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never2tired4u · 2 months ago

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Hey!! I hope you're doing well! I just read your post about the dateables reacting to MC back in human form, and I really loved it! Your writing was great and I loved how their personalities were on point!! I saw your asks were open and wanted to ask if you'd like to write a bit of a domestic fluff with the dateables reacting to MC cooking/teaching them how to cook human food! (especially Solomon bc he's the worst at it lol) Thank you and please write more in the future, you're amazing 💗

— 🦇

Note: Thank you so much 🦇 anon! Also I love this idea, unfortunately i actually didn't know what to do with it :( but tried my best and sorry for not replying soon. Been busy with life in general… Came back to NB yesterday only to get a message from Luke saying he was being chased by Devildom tomatoes lol

You are amazing too and I will try to write more in the future <3

OBEY ME! Dateables x Reader

Characters: 《°•[ Solomon , Simeon , Diavolo , Barbatos...]•°》

Summary: 《°•[ Cooking with them!]•°》

Warnings: 《°•[ Fluff, Solomon wanting to cook.]•°》

With Solomon, cooking isn’t easy. He is a free spirit, curious, and itching to try different combinations with a smile on his face, be it potions or spells, or cooking. Thankfully, he is powerful enough to fix those failed experiments and let it be a learning experience for him, except when he is tasked (himself) to cook. He tries, fails, and just accepts it as perfection, never learning his lesson, never improving. You don’t have the heart to tell him to not join you in the kitchen since he seems to genuinely love cooking for people, however, sometimes he really tests your patience.

Like right now, as he tries, once again, to add some sort of weird ingredient to the pot. Something that DEFINITELY doesn't belong in a human dish…Or any realm's dish for that matter.

“Oh, you caught me.”

“Put that down.” you warned him with a stern voice, Solomon just smiled while slowly lowering the thing, “Not in the pot!” you yelled, barely managing to stop him before he added his ‘touch’ to the meal, “Solomon, what did we talk about?”

Solomon frowned, “I know, it just…” sighing as he glanced at the book, reading the instructions again, “The recipe seems so boring.”

“It’s a soup recipe.”

He dramatically sighed again and stepped back, putting the “ingredient” he was going to add back into his pocket, making you wonder what it even was. Your thoughts were quickly interrupted by him wrapping his arms around your waist from behind and resting his cheek on your shoulder, “Sorry, I promise I won't try to add any DemonFlower Eyeball into it.”

“Just don't add anything!”

“Okay okay,” he laughs, “Only human stuff, got it.”

A smile formed on your lips after hearing his voice next to your ear, a gentle and calm tone. Ready to do anything you requested from him. For now.

After all, even though Solomon is a free spirit, his love for you makes him come back down to earth. If it is you who tells him to follow the recipe, then he will. And surprisingly enough, he isn’t a bad cook once he stops his ways of…adding things.

He fetches you some ingredients then stands next to you, waiting for your instructions (since you sadly don't trust him much to do anything on his own). You finished rather quickly and ready the bowls. Both of you sit on the table and Solomon takes his first sip, “And here I thought I was the teacher in our relationship. It seems I have a lot to learn from you too.” he says as a genuine smile graces his lips.

“Hm? Why do you say that?”

“This tastes delicious.”

“It's a simple dish.” you say, a little confused by his low tone, and the far away look in his eyes.

“It's been forever since I've eaten any human world food,” his smile never leaves his face, “It may be a simple dish but that is what makes it so special. Thank you for the food.”

Simeon is someone who enjoys cooking, not as much as Luke perhaps, but he is still okay at it. For him, trying new recipes every now and then, helping Luke around is something of a routine at this point. Cooking in general has always been a job he needed to do, until his view changed quickly when you decided to enter the kitchen with him. The angel then quickly realized that cooking can also be fun and engaging too.

If you are around that is.

Tonight, you had a craving for some human world food. Luke asked to try some too so you decided to get to work and Simeon offered to help.

“So, where do we start?-” he is suddenly stopped by your arms wrapping around him and completely stops moving for a moment, however he gently hugs you back.

“Simeon?” you ask in confusion, “What are you doing?”

Simeon slightly pulls back, only to realize you were just tying the apron around him, “Oh.” he smiles gently, while mentally hitting himself on the head and pulls back, “I thought you wanted a hug.”

“Maybe later, now let's get to work!”

Simeon is out of his usual attire and wearing something more comfortable instead, with an apron tied to his waist thanks to you.

He listens to what you want to make and what he can do. (Un)fortunately he usually finishes his work pretty fast and then tries to take over yours to help which you refuse. Giving him another, much more simple task and while he does that Simeon often starts to ramble.

“...Would it be rude of me to say that I like how human ingredients are so normal?”

“Compared to what?”

“Anything from Devildom really...” Simeon can't help but look guilty, it feels like he is insulting the whole Devildom himself, a place most of his friends consider a home, but he can't help it, “At least these don't try to attack us.”

“Oh, that's true,” you almost let out a chuckle at how nervous Simeon seems as he chops tomatoes, probably imagining them starting a fight, “What about Celestia?”

“Celestia? Well, hm…” his hands pause for a moment as he gets lost in thought, “They are…Okay? Though, some of them are…Too much.”

You aren't really sure what Simeon means by ‘Too much.’ but decide not to ask about it as he seems annoyed. A memory of an energetic cucumber crossed his mind, perhaps?

“I'm glad you like our normal and boring tomatoes then.”

Simeon laughs nervously, “Yeah, I like it, especially since they don't grow legs and run around.” he turns to you with a smile, “So, we can just focus on making the food and enjoy talking like this.”

Even after the food was finished and the three of you sat down to enjoy the food Simeon can't help but ask you to teach him more human world recipes, “Luke enjoyed it.” he says. Hoping you don't notice how he just wants to spend time with you.

“You want me to make a human world dish?”

“No.” you shake your head, “We are going to make it together, Barbatos.”

Barbatos smiles, when people come to him they always have requests. For example, Beelzebub. The young devil always says he wants to eat his cooking, or use the big kitchen at the palace for a new dish. No one ever came to him and asked to cook together since it was usually his job alone to do, he is a butler after all.

“Alright. However, I don't know the dish you want to make, so…” he can't help but chuckle a little as he bows his head, “Please treat me kindly.”

His words are a complete lie though, Barbatos may not know how the recipe goes but he can tell what needs to be added. He is a great cook, and so graceful while he does the work. He is pretty quick too so the food is almost done already.

“Hmm…” after taking a small sip from the pot you can't help but think that something is missing, it tastes good but it could be better you think, so you turn to your helper, as he likes to call himself, “Barbatos, what do you think of this?”

He casually takes the spoon you hold for him and hums, “It's great, but how about adding some bay leaf?”

“...Bay leaf? We have that?”

“I do, I sometimes use it.” he walks up to a random cabinet and pulls out a jar, “It goes well in foods that need to be cooked for a long period of time. You just need to take it out after it's done.”

“Huh. So, you use human world ingredients in your cooking?”

“Only when you are around,” you watch as Barbatos adds two leaves into the pot, “It's amusing to see your reaction when you eat what I cook for you.”

“That's why they taste so familiar!?”

Barbatos innocently smiles at you, “Don't forget to stir, dear. Or would you like me to take over?”

“Barbatos, don't tell me you actually have been making me human food that looks like Devildom food.”

“I thought the familiar taste would make you happy.”

“...That's kind. Thank you.” you smile, but then squint your eyes at him, “You sure there's nothing else…?”

Barbatos doesn't say anything as he starts cleaning around the kitchen, picking up the things you've used and no longer need.

Of course there's another reason why he secretly cooks human dishes for you. It's so you can visit him, compliment him and ask for him. It's a selfish reason. However, for someone like him it's not surprising. He is a demon, and when it comes to your time and attention, he selfishly wants it all.

You are asking the prince, the future ruler of Devildom to cook with you, a human dish? And he agrees with a laugh? If anyone heard this, they would be thinking the Devildom is coming to an end. His butler however, can't help but think Diavolo agreed without hesitation only because it's you and only because it's a way to escape from his duties. Considering the prince has never touched an utensil in his life, it is weird to see that he seems so confident.

His confidence, however, quickly shaders as he accidentally pushes on the tomato too much while trying to chop it and makes a mess. Covering your aprons and walls with tomato seeds and juices.

He turns to you and smiles, “Have I ever told you that you look good in red?”

You scoff but can't help as a smile grows on your face, “Yes, usually when I'm in a red outfit, not when in a red mess.”

“Small details.” he laughs, but a sigh leaves him as he looks down at the chopping board, “I didn't think they would be so soft and delicate.”

“Don't blame the tomatoes.” when he turns his sad eyes towards you, you wave your hands around quickly, a feeling of guilt settling in, “Don't blame yourself either, accidents happen in kitchens! We can still use it.”

“That's great! Then I'll continue with the cutting,” he says, smiling again, “I'll be more careful from now onl.”

Diavolo may not have a lot of experience in the kitchen, no matter which realm the food is from, but he still finds his own failures fun. Laughing when he accidentally drops the salt shaker in the pan or when he almost burns himself. As a prince he never had mishaps in the kitchen before.

It's new, it's entertaining.

“Thank you for helping me.” you can't help but look at the bandages around his fingers, “Even though it was kind of a disaster.”

Diavolo laughs as he searches for the plates,”No no, thank you! This was a lot of fun. And we get to taste the fruit of our labor too!” he finally finds the right cabinet, “And I'm always happy to learn about the things you enjoy, like this dish.”

He might still have a lot of papers to read and sign but every once in a while he goes into the kitchen to cook the recipe he learned from you. He is extra careful while making it if he is making it for you but is more care free if it's only for himself. He also eats it when he misses you when you are unable to visit him, the same human world dish brings comfort to him as he imagines it bringing comfort to you.

#obey me #obey me x reader #solomon x reader #obey me solomon #simeon x reader #obey me simeon #barbatos x reader #obey me barbatos #diavolo x reader #obey me diavolo #🦇 anon

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lesinquietes · 22 days ago

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Summary: It’s been a few months since you and your friends moved into the old house. Inspections of the entire place — including the cursed basement — were completed. The results showed nothing out of the ordinary. You begin to feel safer in your new environment, growing carefully more comfortable in a space that never belonged to you. Alucard has been watching, though; dormant in the shadows and eager to play with his new toy.

Pairing: Yandere!Alucard x AFAB!Reader

Warning: 18+ (minors don’t interact), horror, sexual themes, violence.

Previous l Next

ᴍᴀꜱᴛᴇʀʟɪꜱᴛ

Lots of psychological horror mixed with a bit of subtle lust. The buildup is happening fast. If I was reader I’d be subletting the shit out of my bedroom by now ngl

The Basement’s Monster I

You gaze out of your new bedroom window and take in the view. It’s dusk. Shadows are being cast by the trees and shrubbery surrounding your property. Within seconds of the sun’s descent, the house is swallowed by darkness; it sits in utter solitude, the closest road at least 500 metres away. This is a cryptic reminder that you’re actually here — in the very home you feared.

It’s been a month since you moved in. So far, nothing spooky has happened. The realtor didn’t find a single fault with the basement. When she asked the old man if he noticed anything out of sorts, he claimed he never went down there — bad knees. If his excuse didn’t do the trick, the realtor’s detective work served to convince you. After talking it over with your friends, you agreed to move in under one condition: the basement door must be locked tighter than a penitentiary. Graciously, no one disagreed.

“If it means you get to have peace of mind?” Cree shrugged. “No problem.”

“To be honest, I don’t even think we have anything to put down there.” Nelly asserted. “We have enough room on the first and second floors for all our stuff.”

It warms your heart to reminisce on their kindness. They care about you. Who else would sacrifice a whole portion of their rental to quell the fears of their roommate? Only the best of friends.

You bolted the basement shut with three different locks. Of course, they can only be disengaged from the outside. Initially, you didn’t know if it would be enough. He transcends the laws of physics, after all. But after zero incidents, you’ve started to believe restricting its access to the rest of the home sealed the deal. You certainly feel more at peace. And now that the horror is dissipating, you can finally see why your comrades liked this place so much.

It’s old and well-loved. It has an aged charm that you don’t see too often anymore; one that’s homely and tranquil. The road in front of you barely sees any traffic, and whatever vehicles do roll through are muffled by the tall evergreen trees decorating the grounds. Your closest neighbour is also roughly 500 metres away. It’s modern day seclusion.

You don’t bother to draw the curtains when you pull off your shirt and carefully remove your bra. Your pants come next, along with your underwear. You reach down to peel socks from fatigued soles, tossing them into your laundry basket with the rest.

Your chamber is cozy. Your bed is situated at the centre of the room, pressed against the furthest wall. Partially above it is a large window, shrouded by curtains fluttering gently in the autumn breeze. There’s a nightstand on one side, and a tall floor lamp on the other. The floor lamp has three arching claws that stretch over your mattress, golden bulbs illuminating your book when it comes time to read in the evening.

Your dresser sits in proximity to the door, wide enough to provide a surface for small trinkets and valuables. You keep a photograph of you and your friends atop it — a reminder that there is good in this world. Behind the grand item hangs a mirror.

A desk is shoved into the corner adjacent to your dresser, messy with notes and assorted books. Your laptop lives there, too. A chair is parked in the desk’s gap, wooden and uncomfortable. This is where you spend your work day.

There’s a door in the corner next to your dresser. It’s a closet. You twist the handle and hear the hinges squeal. After surveying, you yank your bath robe off a hanger and adorn it. The silky fabric is white, with black details of painted flowers and tall grass. Once tied, it dips halfway down your thighs, barely covering your backside. Not that it matters; no one is home but Ericson.

You exit your room and move down the upstairs corridor. The floorboards creak beneath your heavy footfalls. You have the first room at the top of the stairs. The bathroom is at the end of the hall, on the same side as you. Across from you are Cree and Nelly’s rooms. They’re at work. Downstairs, you can hear Ericson talking on the phone. She chose the only chamber on the main floor.

When you reach the bathroom, you open the door. It’s chilly, like outside. You frown when you identify the culprit. The window at the far end of the room, behind the bathtub, is wide open. The curtains flap with the nippy gusts that are flowing in from the night. Gooseflesh decorating your skin, you march to the problem and solve it. The window is shut with an abrupt clap.

From there, you bend down to run the shower. The washroom is Victorian-inspired, with a beautiful standing bathtub and a pedestal sink. A shower head was installed later, curving menacingly above the basin. The stream that gushes out is quite weak in comparison to what you’re used to. The realtor said it has something to do with the boiler being old and defective. The owner plans to replace it before winter.

You wander to the sink and begin to wash your face. Glancing into the mirror, you exfoliate your skin, cleansing it of the day’s stress. It feels good to do some form of self-care. With age, you recognize the need to treat your body with the respect it deserves.

Once you complete your task, you make your way back to the shower. Cautiously, you expose your wrist to the jet. You sigh, content. It’s ready for you.

Your robe drops to the floor. You step into the tub and close the curtain. As soon as the water hits your body, a soft moan leaves your lips. Your nervous system relaxes, and your mind straightens out. Eyes closed, you make the foolish mistake of thinking that you’re safe.

Alucard watches you from his hiding spot in the basement. He’s grinning from ear to ear, a droplet of saliva dripping down his pale chin as he remains transfixed by the image of your bare figure. How long has it been since he’s had a frigid body beneath his, serving and soothing him? More than a decade. Two decades, perhaps. But that doesn’t matter. He wants you, regardless of the pent-up lust that’s coiling around his loins.

From lying dormant, he’s harnessed enough strength to manifest himself in physical form. It’ll have to be brief, but he can’t have you trusting that what you saw on the day of the showing won’t come back to haunt you. He’s been picking up on some of your thoughts. If there’s one thing he despises, it’s false courage. His visit will teach you that it’s asinine to lower your guard in this hellhole.

Meanwhile, upstairs, you lather your hair with shampoo and scrub yourself down. The heat of the water is heavenly. You don’t recall the last time you were this relaxed.

Your anxiety has been on the rise recently, since you came across that beast during the showing. You kept anticipating to be hypnotized once more, but he hasn’t disturbed you. Didn’t he want this — infinite, unbridled access to you? At least, that was the sense you got from the encounter. Where is he now? Not that you’re complaining.

Alucard inhales greedily. The smell of your soaps is wafting down the hallway. His licks his lips. Despite the scent being artificial, he thinks it suits you. He deliberates how your blood will taste. If his intuition is right, there’ll be a sweetness to the coppery undertone. The last occasion in which he had that flavour on his palate was a century ago.

It’s difficult to restrain himself from laying claim to your neck. Despairingly, he wishes to plant a chaste kiss on its length before grazing his fangs across the target spot. He would feel your pulse and be unable to resist plunging into your jugular. The blood that would spurt from the wound would gush into his ravenous mouth and satiate him. No doubt, he’d be addicted to your unique taste.

Soon, he reminds himself sternly.

You hum a song you’ve heard a lot of lately. It’s been stuck in your head. Ericson’s a fan of indie rock and the like.

He doesn't look a thing like Jesus,

But he talks like a gentleman,

Like you imagined,

When you were young.

You don’t know how ironic those lyrics are to the situation that’s unfolding beneath your conscious awareness. You will in due time. For now, only Alucard relishes in the mockery.

A squeak outside the bathroom door causes you to perk up. The words catch in your throat. Your heart pangs, disrupting the ambient serenity you’ve cultivated. Wordless, you stare at the shower curtain. It’s not transparent. You don’t know what’s stopping you from peeking out of it to investigate. Fear, perhaps, or the hope that it’s just Ericson.

Alucard clasps the doorknob, nesting the bulb in his palm. He snickers cruelly. You stopped singing. Shame. He was fond of the melody.

You hear the latch of the bathroom door click. It startles you further. You can feel your pulse thudding in your temples. Heart galloping in your chest, the frantic organ begs you to rip open the curtain and face the intruder. Your limbs are frozen. It’s oddly reminiscent of that day near the basement; you don’t think that’s a coincidence.

It can’t be Ericson. There’s a bathroom equipped with a sink and toilet downstairs. She wouldn’t use this one.

Something lets itself in. It closes the door behind it, barring you in this minuscule prison with its wrath. You know, in the recesses of your soul, that a monster beyond your scope of comprehension is lurking behind the curtain. Paranoia has become your friend lately; nevertheless, you understand when a genuine threat has presented itself. And it rattles you to the core.

Alucard’s dead hand, with jagged nails protruding from lithe fingertips, ghosts along the fabric that’s separating the two of you. He growls lowly. If he snapped the curtains from their hooks and dragged the whole ensemble to its demise, you would be vulnerable for him. You would cover your chest and womanhood as best you could, leaving your dainty neck exposed. It would be the perfect opportunity to—

He bites his tongue. No. Repetitively, he insists that this isn’t the night to turn you; there’s more to be done before then.

Your jaw unhooks as you register what you saw. The curtain seemed to quiver. Did that really happen?

All you can register, outside of your rampant adrenaline, is the noise of water striking the tin basin. It’s as though everything else is frozen in time. Images of that cryptid return to you. Each blink ignites a memory of him treading closer, whispering with his barbed tongue. You can almost hear him in the present.

Come, pretty human.

Petrified, you don’t breathe for what feels like an eternity. At last, your first exhale is measured — a futile attempt to regulate yourself. With courage akin to the Chernobyl divers, dipping into a radioactive pool, you raise your hand. Shaking with dread, you guide it to the precise location you saw the movement.

Alucard fights the urge to snatch your delicate wrist. He can see your silhouette. You’re about to rip open the veil, in a silly attempt to thwart him. He yearns to tug you into his firm chest, securing your figure while he lulls you into a submissive state.

In a flurry of bravery, you grasp the curtain and rip it open. A cry leaves your mouth as you do. The fabric flies, and what’s revealed is an empty space, housing solely your derangement. No being stands there. No creature is seeking to haunt you.

You stand there, motionless. Every inch of the room is scanned until you’re wholly satisfied that not a damn thing is out of place. The towels and cloths are stationary. Your supplies remain on the shelves next to the sink. Hell, even the toilet paper looks untouched.

“Okay.” You breathe under your breath. “What the hell was that?”

Maybe what you heard was the house settling. Recently, you spoke with Nelly about the creaks and groans that resound in this place, and how they’ll take some getting used to. This evening, you let your apprehension over-encumber you.

You desperately want to shake off the sounds. Something inside you begs to forget about this incident, to turn around and finish your shower without acknowledging the truth. Against your better judgement, you do. You close the curtain and inhale deeply. Your objective is singular: conclude your shower so you can get the fuck out of here.

You don’t sing another word. Speedily, you continue to rinse off, straining your hair and body of any soapy residue. You glare out the window. You didn’t bother to close the curtain. This is common for you. It’s unlikely that anyone will see you. Cree and Nelly won’t be home anytime soon, and no stranger has business at the house. Besides, you enjoy peering outside as you unwind.

You furrow your brows. That’s funny. It wasn’t this dark before. You could delineate the closest trees. It’s as though a blanket is obstructing your visibility.

That’s when you notice the pair bloodshot eyes glowering down at you. Your heart skips numerous beats. Your mind goes blank while you examine the fiend. His irises are crimson. His pupils are death. His grin is all teeth.

You can’t swallow your misgivings. The howl that flies from your mouth is unhinged. You stumble backwards, almost tripping and falling as you struggle to get away from the window. Miraculously, the curtain survives your plight. Your shin isn’t as lucky; you smack it against the tub as you barrel out the door. Wet and partially nude, save for a towel wrapped clumsily around your torso, you back away from the room.

“(F/n)!”

Ericson is mobilized, too. You can hear her dashing up the stairs to get to you. Reaching the top step, she immediately notices your unease.

“What’s wrong?!” She shouts, skidding to a halt next to you. “Did you just scream?!”

“There’s someone outside!” You contend, legs wobbling. “They were watching me!”

“Where?!”

Without a second thought, Ericson shoves her way through the ajar door, fearlessly entering the steamy room. You witness her search thoroughly around the small area. Shutting off the shower, she unhooks the window and sticks her head out. Interestingly, the black figure is nowhere to be found. Just as it disappeared when you tore open the curtain, it fluttered into nothingness when your friend responded to its wrath. It seems intent on making this experience personal.

Your friend ceases her inspection after discovering no lingering threats. Riddled with shame, you feel silly. It doesn’t help that you’re cold and damp. Your entire demeanour is miserable. Why couldn’t you have stayed and assessed the situation? Maybe things weren’t as they seemed. Then again, if the cause truly is supernatural, you might have saved yourself by reacting.

“I don’t see anyone.” She calls, frustration washing over her peachy visage. “Where were they?”

Aversively, you take a few steps towards the bathroom. You don’t dare go back inside. Instead, you point.

“Literally standing in front of the window.”

Ericson’s expression doesn’t waver. If anything, it deepens. She return to the hallway.

“In front of this window?”

She gestures over her shoulder, to the one in the bathroom. You stare at her like she grew an extra head. You’re dripping and clad in a flimsy towel. Where else does she think you came from?

“Of course!”

Silence for an interval; then, the punchline.

“I’m asking because we’re on the second floor.”

You purse your lips. You know that; you know how stupid this sounds. But you saw what you saw. You wouldn’t cry out for fun.

“I swear I’m not making this up.”

Ericson clasps your shoulder with a ginger hand, rubbing the bare skin to soothe your raw nerves. A whimper leaves your lips. She doesn’t believe you.

“I believe you.” She mutters, contradicting the lie she’s concealing. “It’s just weird to me how someone got all the way up here.”

It would be weird, if you weren’t dealing with a multi-dimensional being.

“E, I saw his eyes.”

“His?”

“Well—“

How do you explain that you met the monster in the basement on the day you viewed the house, and that you think it’s back to wreak havoc on you for no reason? Right; you don’t. Just like you can’t confess to knowing its gender.

“I… don’t know that for sure.”

She hums.

“In any case, we should ask Cree and Nelly to search the exterior when they get home tonight.”

“Absolutely.”

Even if she doesn’t agree with what you saw, and she’s simply conceding to make you feel better, that’s still a fine idea. It rained this afternoon. The ground will be damp. They can check for footprints. You don’t know if this thing is capable of leaving a trace of itself behind, but this will be a good test to confirm your suspicions. You believe it skirts between this world and another, picking and choosing which clues to plant. If your hypothesis is correct, they won’t find a thing.

Ericson swings her arms and glances in the direction of the stairs. You worry about being left to your own devices after this. Graciously, she isn’t one to leave a loved one stranded.

“Wanna come hangout?”

You cast her a shy simper.

“Do you have to ask?”

She chuckles.

"You gonna be okay?"

It's a gamble. He could sweep you away into nothingness tonight, when everyone else is asleep. Nonetheless, you nod. For now, with her partially aware of the situation, you're fine.

"I think so."

“I’ll meet you in the kitchen, then?"

"Sure."

She flashes you the peace sign, and you allow her to depart without qualm. You think the worst of it is over. The cryptid has been intercepted, and thus, it wouldn’t dare return tonight — not with everyone on guard. Despite that, it’s hard for you to discard the eerie imprint left by the event. Thick in the air, you find it taxing to breathe through the tension.

The top of Ericson’s head vanishes as she descends. Her footfalls are faint when she closes her bedroom door. Both of you are isolated once more, though it’s only you who’s anxious. If your comrade could comprehend half of what’s lurking in this house’s bowels, she might be, too.

Gradually, you walk back into the bathroom. You squint through the steam. Fear ices your heart, giving you pause. It’s the mirror; there’s something written in the fog.

A low groan rises from your abdomen. You gaze over your shoulder. Should you run and grab Ericson? No. You want to see what it says first. It could disappear by the time you return.

You tread closer to the message. Nausea rises in your gut.

YOU LOOK AS DELICIOUS AS YOUR BLOOD SMELLS

A shiver travels up your spine. You process the note as it begins to fade, questioning why you bothered to stick around. Arguably, you could have gone without knowing that the creature hunting you is a night stalker.

“Oh my god,” you whisper. “Not a fucking vampire."

You clap a clammy palm over your mouth. If he’s not a demon, then he must be a vampire. What other beast craves human blood? But as far as you know, they’re the stuff of legends. Sure, there was Vlad the Impaler, who brutalized his enemies and danced in their blood, and Elizabeth Bathory, who bathed in tortured virgin’s blood for eternal youth, but they weren’t actually fanged and inhuman. They couldn’t vanish. They couldn't transform into a flurry of bats. They couldn’t stretch as tall as the grand window in the bathroom. And they certainly couldn’t live forever... to your knowledge.

It's challenging for you to admit that this is the work of a bloodsucker. It’s illogical and frightening. It goes against what you understand about the universe. Worst of all, how can you hope to protect yourself against something that no one else believes to exist?

When Nelly and Cree got home, you and Ericson told them about the occurance. She said she heard you scream in the upstairs washroom, so she bolted out of her bedroom and met you at the end of the corridor. You narrated how you heard footsteps and saw a set of eyes. Perhaps unsurprisingly, Cree voiced his support for your otherworldly experience.

“There’s an overhang outside the bathroom window.” He offered. “Some creep could’ve climbed up to spy on you.”

“Mm-mm.” Nelly shook her head in dismay. “I do not want to think about that.”

“But who would go out of their way to do that?” Ericson argued, unconvinced. “The road is like, an eight minute walk.”

“The house is old and run-down looking. Wanderers could think it’s abandoned, and when they found it wasn’t, they stuck around anyway. They might’ve been casing us.”

Reflecting back, Cree made a few solid points. You’re glad he’s been willing to hear you out. He might be the one you turn to if things continue to unravel. At least you know he’ll be more dedicated to grasping your perspective than the skeptical Ericson.

“We should probably check for footprints, no?” Nelly prompted Cree. “And if we find any, let’s call the police.”

“Agreed.” Ericson interjected. “If someone’s fucked enough to walk all this way from the road, just to spy on us in the bathroom, I don’t want to find out what else they have planned.”

A grim undertone lied in her statement. They don’t yet believe the source of your dismay could be anything beyond human. After all, aren’t mortals scarier than the notion of demons and ghosts and vampires? With the way mankind treats each other, always implementing new ways to maim and kill, you ought to be worried about an intruder more than a v—

You chew on your inner cheek. You’re still having trouble admitting what he is. It doesn’t feel real.

Cree and Nelly spent twenty minutes on the prowl. Predictably, they didn’t find anything disturbing. Outwardly, it seemed invalidating to your claim that there was someone watching you; inwardly, however, you were petrified with the realization that this truly isn’t another human. Part of you wanted your spooky experiences to be debunked. Why can’t it be the deranged ex-homeowner screwing with you, or some neighbour from down to street with a god complex? Either of those culprits are criminals who can locked up. A vampire can’t be stopped.

You sit on your bed. The flesh beneath your eyes is sagging and dark with exhaustion. It’s twelve past midnight. The urge to rest is nagging; sadly, fear keeps your brain on high alert. It’s impossible to sleep right now. The darkness of your room does little to lull you into a peaceful slumber.

Phone high above your head, you read what’s displayed on the dim screen. Your eyes are squinted from hours of research. You’re grateful for the internet. Discussion forums of others who claim to have encountered vampires gave you ideas on how to protect yourself. Not only that, but you’ve perused information across various cultures on nightstalkers. If you’re going to suffer from insomnia, you may as well use your time to study the enemy.

The term vampire didn’t originate until the early 1700s. Some ancient people believed that demons were blood suckers. Others thought they were ghouls roaming the plain of living, yearning to feed. Suddenly, the monster’s words echo in your mind.

But I classify myself as none of those creatures, sweetness.

He doesn’t refer to himself as a demon. The ancients were wrong. A ghoul, perhaps. For now, you’re confident to say that he’s undead.

It’s three-fifteen in the morning when you ultimately drift off. You leave consciousness while you’re neck-deep in lore, unable to fight your natural urges any longer. Unfortunately, your dreams are much different from the stark reality of supernatural forces. An unconscious mind is more vulnerable than a conscious, guarded one, and monsters know it.

#18+ minors dni #the basement’s monster #alucard hellsing #hellsing x reader #yandere alucard x reader #alucard x reader #yandere vampire x reader #vampire x reader #fem reader

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jamneuromain · 1 year ago

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A Proper Nest

Steve Rogers x You (Reader)

Warning: Omega!Steve Rogers, Alpha!Reader, established relationship, smut, p in v, in heat, a lil breeding kink, sub-ish Steve, creampie if you squint

W/C: 2K

Summary: Steve wants to build a proper nest for his upcoming heat.

A/N: Gifting this fic as a bday present to @rogerswifesblog :3 Wish you all the best things in this world uwu

It was the top secret that Steve was an Omega.

Which was a piece of frustrating news to the higher-ups.

They complained. Multiple times, about why Steve wasn’t one of the Omegas like in the ancient history, which could bear children so that the United States wouldn’t be in short supply of super soldiers.

No. Steve, rare as hen’s teeth, was born a male Omega. Meaning that he could not bear children, that he would suffer from Omega heat, and that he needed a comforting Alpha every six months when his heat would strike.

Waking up in modern days, however, does have its perks.

For example, a big online community focuses on male Omegas, though surprisingly, there were many male Omegas just like him.

For example, there are better scent blockers that will disguise him like a Beta in the crowd if he puts one on his gland.

For example… bonds are created between two loving mates, not forced upon them.

Love and attraction can stay well away from each other, or so he figures, when he is anxious about another upcoming heat that will land in a week, and that he has yet to finish his nest.

Steve presses his nose into your long silk robe, and inhales deeply.

The fresh scent of mint smells calming and comforting, with a hint of laundry detergent. He tucks the robe into the pile of clothes and blankets which he would use to build his nest.

He nuzzles his face with a blanket. The slight roughness irritates him, followed by his folding the blanket into a square and placing it on the floor. He has the decency to fold it now. Wait until it’s three days till the heat and he’d be throwing stuff on the floor, losing his temper, and rather stay inside his nest than do anything.

“Do you need anything, Stevie?” You ask him softly, standing by the door instead of by his side. As his Alpha, you know better than to poke your nesting mate right now.

Steve’s eyes scan your form with a warning glint. “Don’t touch my stuff.” He grumbles, picking up a cotton sheet of yours from the pile of fabrics and clothing he would use to build your nest, and splaying it in the middle of your shared bed.

It’s funny how he’d want you during heat, love you with or without your mutual bond, and also protect his nest like a hatching hen these days. Even from you.

Pouring some water into a glass, you carefully put the glass by the door, “You’re sweating, Stevie. Here’s some water for you, okay? I’ll be in the kitchen to count our stock for next week, give me a shout if you need anything.”

You have no doubt, that even the pile of clothes belongs to you, Steve would tear you down if you approached him without informing him first.

Steve nods somewhat hesitantly. With two pillows and the sheet in place, the basic structure of his nest is gradually forming. Though he would kill for a glass of water right now, the hindbrain urges him to build his nest for his safety and comfort.

The faint scent of mint ghosting the glass you prepared for him, making Steve downing the glass and sniffing it, running the cold glass over his gland.

Fuck. He wants it.

Steve lets out a whimpering noise in protest, but he goes through the pile, sniffing them to find if there is a stronger minty scent.

No.

FUUUUUUUUUCK!

He needs your fucking scent when he has just driven you away because of his omega hindbrain.

His gland is burning, itching for your scent.

Steve throws the annoying pile – a second ago he wanted to make his nest properly, but nothing else matters more than a dose of your pheromone at this moment – onto the bed, roughly arranging them into the shape of a nest, and runs to the kitchen where you were supposed to be.

“… protein bars, check. Chocolate chip cookies, check. Three loaves of bread, check. Two cartons of milk, check.” You murmur to yourself, counting and putting the groceries in place.

Steve embraces you from behind, where he buries his face into the crook of your neck and takes a deep inhale. The wave of mint knocks his hindbrain out cold, a breeze of coolness to his heating body.

“Stevie?” You pat his arm that’s tightening around your waist, closing the refrigerator door, “You okay, baby?”

“Need your scent.” He whines, “Need you.”

The tremor over the bond you shared informs him that you are experiencing joy and somewhat – amusement, which he cannot comprehend.

He is an Omega. AND IT’S PERFECTLY FINE TO APPROACH HIS ALPHA FOR HER SCENT.

Still, it doesn’t make the scene that a grown, beefy, 6’2’’ man whining like a big baby any less amusing for you.

“I hate you.” He whines again, all the while inhaling more of your scent.

“And I love you, baby.” You grin, “Do you want to take a shower? You are sweating a lot.”

“After I finish the nest.” He runs the tip of his nose over your gland, agreeing, before licking it. Once. Twice. Sucking on it.

Your gland is stimulated. Producing pheromones in large quantities that blend into the air around both of you. Although you grew up with this scent ever since you turned Alpha, the heavy and sharp smell of mint is a bit too much compared to the usual amount.

Through the bond, your body knows that your mate will be in heat soon, so it naturally tries to speed up the process – or comfort your mate, whichever comes first.

After he is finally satisfied with the amount of scent your gland produces, he kisses your cheek one last time. By this point, your thin sleeping gown is soaked with his sweat.

You turn around and gently wipe the sweat drops from his brows and his chin with the back of your hand, cupping his jaw, asking softly. “Better?”

“Yeah.”

“Nest and then shower, ‘kay? We need to cool you down a bit.”

“I’m fine.” Steve scrunches his nose. He doesn’t want your scent, your precious scent, going away and be replaced with stinky shampoo or body wash, even if he’s sweating like crazy right now.

“Stevie, please?”

“Ugh fine.” He pouts so visibly that you are certain you could hang a basket on his lips and it would stay still. Stomping like a kid, he returns to your bedroom, rummaging through the pile much faster.

You shake your head. A small smile hanging by your lips.

The way your Omega eventually agrees with you warms your heart (and your hindbrain). The Alpha in you takes pride in assisting your Omega, taking care of him in any way that’s possible – for example, reminding him to shower as he is too tied up to your nest to prevent himself from getting cold.

Technically, he can’t. But he sweats so much that he could dehydrate, or risk getting electrolyte disorder.

You finish counting the last few items on your list, before there is a light tug on your bond.

Enough to dawn on you that this house has been too quiet.

No ruffling clothes, no murmuring, no Steve walking on the floor barefoot. Not even the sound of distant showers running behind closed doors.

It is too quiet.

“Steve?” You drop the list and head to your bedroom immediately, as a harsher tug on the bond makes you wince.

Steve is entering his heat.

Right FUCKING now.

You slow down, approaching your bedroom. The scent of apple pie and cream hits you like a freight train bus, knocking nearly all of your senses out cold.

“Steve?” You push the door open, revealing a mess of clothing, sheets, blankets, comforters, and a writhing 6-foot naked man on your bed, lying in the middle of your clothes that could barely be called a nest.

“Alpha-” He whimpers, as your scent responds to his almost on instinct, battling for his sanity, “Alpha, please-”

Speed up the process, or comfort your mate – clearly, your pheromones decided on the first. Steve’s heat is at least five days earlier than it was supposed to be.

Letting go of your sleeping gown, you lie on the bed next to him, caressing his faint pink skin and the rising and falling of his chest, “Shh. It’s all good now. I’ve got you.”

Despite the flaming heat that swept over his body, and the tight coil in his guts, Steve grabs your hand and places it on his gland, pleading, both through his voice and your bond to soothe him from the pain.

“Please-”

You unleash your pheromones in a heartbeat. Hovering your body over his, you press a small kiss over his gland.

“Hurts- It hurts, Alpha, make it better-” Steve whimpers, his hand clenches on the back of your neck, urging you to take him, to bite him, to renew your mark again-

Your teeth sink into his skin, drawing out blood, and bite the most sensitive part of his body.

A cluster of pheromones his marked gland leaks reaches your tongue and throat as you lap on the wound to help it heal. Although you doubt it will stay healed for long, the heat will last roughly a week and the marking process will keep happening every time the pain returns to his body.

Swallowing his blood down your throat, it tastes like iron with a faint smell of warm apple pie.

He whispers your name, moaning, as he humps on your thigh. His thick girth chasing your body, wanting to be cooled down. “Want you to ride me,” Steve chokes out, “Y/N, Alpha, please…”

You snake a hand down, stroking his heavy cock, pushing the foreskin to reveal the reddening head. “Shhh,” You coo, “anything for my good boy.”

His cock slides into your weeping pussy with ease, he lifts his hips as you sit, his sweaty hands claw your back, desperate for his release.

You begin bouncing on his lap, moving your body in a steady rhythm, one hand on his abs, the other steadying yourself on the bedside post.

Lowering to kiss his plump lips, you can taste his willingness, his submission, and his unconditional love on the tip of his tongue, when he whines because of your retreating, swaying your hips to create more friction on your clit, clenching your walls as his orgasm arrives.

“Fuck.” He gasps, “Fuck I’m gonna-”

His soft golden strands stick to his forehead, his breath quickens, clinging to you with a firm grasp. He pushes his hip up one more time, veins bulging down his neck, pulsing pheromones to every cell in his body. The mighty super soldier now lying on your bed, almost helpless, begging with his pretty voice and his throbbing cock.

It makes the Alpha in you purr in excitement and satisfaction.

“Cum for me, pretty boy,” You whisper praises by his ear, your lips tracing his clean-shaven jaw, while your nails scratch his delicate gland, leaving a few crimson marks on his neck, “So good for me, Stevie, gonna give me pretty little babies and let me be a mommy, yeah?”

“Yes. Yes.” Steve snaps his hips up, his eyes roll to the back of his head.

A heavy load coats your tight walls. You reach your orgasm soon after, lying on top of him. The heating skin under your palm subdues, as Steve gains his senses back and buries his head in the crook of your neck again.

“… didn’t even build a proper nest.” He mutters. “I’m sorry.”

“It’s okay.” You run your fingers down his arms fondly, pressing soft kisses to his collarbone, “We’ll build a better one next time.”

#steve rogers #steve rogers x you #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers fluff #steve rogers fanfiction #captain america #captain america x reader #captain america x you #captain america fluff #steve rogers smut

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abbyslev · 1 year ago

Note

JUNE BABY PLS I BEG YOU PLS WRITE SOME YELENA SMUT PLS I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE IM TOO FAR GONE I NEED THIS WOMEN TO SLAM ME AGAINST A WALL AND MAKE OUT WITH ME AND LOVE ME AND PUNCH ME AND MAKE ME HER WIFE AND SPIT IN MY FACE AND NEVER LET ME GO PLS I BEG YOU PLS IM SO DESPERATE PLS

𝑭𝑶𝑪𝑼𝑺- 𝒀𝑬𝑳𝑬𝑵𝑨 𝑿 𝑹𝑬𝑨𝑫𝑬𝑹

A/N: the craziest part is that no one gets my love for yelena like lea does. @lejayooo GETS IT. SO GOOD. i wrote this for her bc i love her and ofc i need to feed into our delusions TOGETHER??? THIS WAS INSPIRED BY LANA TOO LIKE THE WAY I WOULD LET YELENA FOLD ME IN HALF AND DESTROY ME??? I HOPE ALL OF YOU ENJOY OK IM GONNA GO FANGIRL W LEA NOW OK GUYS

WARNINGS: pure smut bro

Your name left her mouth once again, an annoyed sigh from your mouth leaving as you looked up.

“I need you to focus.” Professor Yelena gave you a stern smile before pointing to the board. “Answer.” She added. Your cheeks turned red, your ears hot. You had been thinking about Professor Yelena's long fingers touching you in such soft ways, mouth meeting yours as your hands tangled themselves in her soft hair. You practically dropped at the thought.

“I- uhm…i’m not sure.” You cleared your throat as you could feel the stares of your peers. “Like yesterday? And the day before that?” Yelena shook her head, sucking her teeth. You look down, picking at your fingers. “Stay after class.” She let out a soft chuckle before turning back to her lesson.

This must have been the longest lesson in the world. You couldn’t stop thinking about how badly she was going to scold you, how she was going to shame you for your skills. You bite your tongue, the people around you moving as Yelena yelled out what pages to read tonight. You stuff your bag with your belongings before slowly dragging yourself to her desk, a shy smile on your face.

Yelena waved off her last student before turning to you. She walked past you, opening the door to her office. She extended an arm out, letting you go in first. You stood there shyly as she removed her coat, rolling up her sleeves.

My god, her long, pale veiny arms made you practically drool again. You tore your eyes away from her arms, looking at her exposed collarbones, wishing nothing more than to kiss them. “What’s going on in that pretty little head of yours?” Yelena chuckled, tapping her head.

“Erm, nothing. Just a hard time focusing.” You lied. “I think not. You seem to have a perfect score in every single class, so why is mine the issue? You passed Zoë’s class easily enough last year.” Yelena sat down, typing on her computer. “I don’t like this book. I only like books that i’m interested in.” You lied. “You told Zoë you loved anything by this author, which is why I chose it. Is that an issue?” Yelenas brows furrowed.

You stayed quiet, eyes wide. Why would she ever pick anything you liked? She didn’t even know you last year. “This is your major, I expect more from you. You did pretty well up until a while ago.” Yelena rested one hand on her chin, her cold eyes trailing down your body.

Yeah, that was a couple of months before you started realizing how hot she was, before you started thinking unimaginable things about her.

“Zoë says you’re perfect, I was really expecting that kind of participation in my class.” Yelena smiled. “I just have a lot going on right now.” You say quickly. “Want to talk about it? It stays between us.” Yelena gave you another warm smile. “I’m ok. Thank you.” What else were you supposed to say? How you want her to fuck you so bad?

“Well, come here, i want to show you some alternative assignments, maybe we can get that C to a B.” Yelena waved you over. Oh my god, were you really about to be right next to your hot professor?

You sit next to her, body stiff. She smelled like cologne. You inhaled deeply, trying not to be obvious. You were so close to touching her. Yelena spread her legs, her knee touching yours. Neither of you moved. “You could write me a six hundred word essay on this book. Unless you’d rather just read it with us.” Yelena looked over at you.

She noticed your stiff body, your hands slightly shaking as you avoided eye contact with her. “I can just read.” You blurted out. “What, sweetheart?” Yelenas brows furrowed again. SWEETHEART? Your heart pounded, eyes shooting to the floor. Her hand lifted your chin up, forcing you to look at her. “Answer.” She whispered, leaning in.

You squeeze your legs, lips parting a bit as Yelena leaned in, thumb playing with your lower lip. “I can read.” You whispered back. “Good.” Yelena kissed you, hand softly caressing your jaw. You embarrassingly whimpered, holding her wrist. Yelena brought you into her lap, hands massaging your thighs.

She kissed your neck, nose tickling your neck. “Is this what you think about?” Yelena played with your waistband, holding a fistful of your hair, making you look at her. “Tell me what you think about, baby.” Yelena brought your lips down to hers. “I think about your fingers inside of me. I think abou- fuck.” You throw your head back as Yelena squeezed your breasts.

Yelena helped you pull off your pants, pushing you on her desk. “I always think about you. How you’re mine. Not Zoë’s dirty little pet, you’re mine.” Yelena shoved her fingers in your mouth. You drooled all over them, face pouting as your legs shook. Yelena tapped your clit softly before starting to do slow circles.

Your nails gripped the edge of the desk, eyebrows furrowing as Yelena slowly sank a finger in you. You close your legs, teeth sinking into your bottom lip. Yelena's free hand tugged on your shirt. You threw it off, hands locking around Yelena’s neck. Yelena kissed you, fingers pumping in and out of you and her thumb continued to circle your clit.

“You get all embarrassed when I call on you, do you like that? Do you like that I think about punishing you when you’re wrong?” Yelena mumbled in your ear, fingers quickening with every word. “Yes, fuck, yes!” You scream, your head laid in between her shoulder and neck, teeth sinking into Yelena’s shoulder, quiet pleads leaving your mouth.

You rock your hips upwards, hoping for more. Yelena pressed your body down with her cold hand, shaking her head. “Please,” You look at her. Yelena ran the same hand down your face, softly caressing your bottom lip. She kissed you softly, capturing your bottom lip between her teeth.

You grasped Yelena's upper arm, feeling the soft curve of her muscles. She could feel you about to cum. “Beg for it.” She slowed her pace, pressing her forehead against yours. “P-please, professor.” You try to keep your shaking legs open. “Please what?” Yelena kissed the corner of your mouth, tongue tracing your lips. “Please let me-shit!” Your fingers dig into her back. Your nails scratch her soft skin, decorating her pale skin with your red love marks.

“I wanna hear you, pretty.” Yelena watched as you moaned out loud, lips quivering as you called out her name. “How bad do you want it?” Yelena hummed. “S-so bad! Bad!” You shut your eyes. Yelena slapped your face, hand grabbing the back of your neck and pulling you forward.

“Look at me when I'm talking to you.” Yelena mumbled. That sets you off. Your legs gave in, chest collapsing as loud, breathy moans left your lips and hands tangling themselves in her hair, forehead against Yelena’s, your cum all over her desk.

She helped you come down, pushing your hair out of your face. “You’re a mess.” She chuckled as she handed you your bottoms. “Thanks to you.” You sit there for a moment. “Do you really think of me that way?” Yelena traced soft circles on your inner thigh. You blushed, pushing her hand off.

“Oh, don’t be embarrassed now.” She caressed your cheek, leaning down to your level. She pressed a soft kiss on your lips. You pull away, standing up. “What?” Yelena smiled. You kiss her one more time before opening her door. “I’ll see you tomorrow after class.” You smile, shutting the door behind you.

#attack on titan #yelena snk #yelena x reader #yelena x you #yelena attack on titan #snk yelena #yelena smut #yelena headcanons #yelena #yelena aot #aot x reader #aot smut

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wordsofdiana · 7 months ago

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Today is International Asexuality Day, a day devoted to raise asexual awareness, so it seemed like a good time to make you all aware of this asexual.

This is a label I’ve used privately and happily for quite some time, but I thought it was time to share this part of my self with the rest of the world, and I especially wanted to come out here on tumblr because I wanted to thank everyone who’s ever posted about asexuality in any form for helping me figure out this huge part of myself.

I didn’t know asexuality existed for most of my life. When I first heard about it, it was explained as meaning someone who has never had sex. Since I had sex before, I figured that didn’t apply to me and moved on. I’d also heard for so long that women don’t hit their sexual peak until their 30’s, so thought for most of my life that my interest in sex would come later, and eventually I’d understand why people are so into this sex stuff. But 30 came and went, and nothing changed, except that I was still on tumblr and I’d see posts describing the range of asexual identities and people discussing their personal experiences, and when I realized that this identity actually did fit me, that I did belong to it, I felt such a sense of relief. I’ve felt more like myself since I embraced it. I’m happier, more comfortable, less stressed all the time. A few months ago I told my partner and that went incredibly well. We’re communicating more and figuring out how this works for us, and our relationship is stronger and better than it’s ever been and I love him so much for that. It’s a journey I’m still going on, but it’s been a really great one so far.

In conclusion, I’m happy and proud to be Ace. Thanks to everyone who helped me get here and I hope your own journeys are going well. Asexually yours, Diana.

#Asexual #Asexuality Day #Personal #My writing #Ace #Asexuality #Thanks all #Everyone who's ever posted fun and easily digestible info about asexuality is a hero #This includes people who bring it up casually and have fun with it that's a shockingly huge part of making it less scary to embrace it #It's cool to reblog this FYI

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srjlvr · 1 year ago

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,, summer camp ’’

PAIRING . . . non-idol!Jungwon X fem!Reader !

GENRE . . . fluff , childhood friends to lovers trope , angst !

WC . . . 3.0k+ (so terribly sorry i didn’t think it’d be that long) !

SYNOPSIS . . . summer camps became your favorite thing in the world, all because of the kid with the boba eyes.

WARNINGS . . . mentions of bullying (nothing violent) , annoying teenagers ! (PLS inform me if i missed something!!)

“you could’ve let me stay at grandma’s!” you disappointedly looked at your parents. “she’s busy just as we are, plus honey its just for three weeks, it’ll pass you quickly!”

you stared at your parents packing your stuff into a (ten times bigger than you) suitcase.

you’re twelve, and it’s the first time you’d be going to a summer camp, they clearly don’t trust you with the suit packing so they decided to do it themselves.

“we packed you everything from A to Z, you’re all ready for tomorrow!” your mother looked at you and you could see the excitement on her face.

“you’re going to have real fun!” your father added, “most of your friends are going to be there!”

“they’re not really my friends” you said quietly, your parents are too old to hear what you said anyway.

your parents than pat your head and smiled, “you should go sleep now, you have to wake up early for the big day tomorrow!”

next thing you knew you were already on the bus, full of little kids around the same age as you, and a few elderly people who were your counselors.

your seat was near the window so through the whole ride you just looked out for the view, not even bothering to notice who sits next to you.

“we’ve finally arrived! everyone go to your counselors and they’ll guide you to your cabins! we’ll gather up together around 7pm, in the meantime, get comfortable and don’t be afraid to talk with your counselor if something is bothering you!”

you sighed heavily and walked after your counselor who introduced you to a small cabin, with four beds and a place to put all your belongings.

“y/n, you’ll be here together with your three friends” your counselor smiled warmly at you and you nodded.

“hey! you’re y/n right?” one of the roommates asked you and you nodded. “don’t you know how to talk?” they all giggled and you looked away.

“don’t think you can join our group just because you’re in this room, it’s annoying enough to have you here” another one said and they all laughed.

“just go catch your bed and don’t do anything stupid” the other one pointed at one specific bed as if she had already decided for you which bed you’re going to sleep in.

kids can be cruel sometimes.

it was 5pm, in two hours you’re all going to gather up for dinner.

you have two hours to get to your counselor and talk with her about wanting to change a cabin or call your parents to take you out of here.

two hours feels like a nightmare in a place like this, full of cabins and in the middle of the woods, luckily, your counselor told you where she’d be staying, you just can’t really remember where is it when all of the cabins look the same.

after half an hour of debating which cabin is your counselor’s cabin, you found another counselor whom you recognized as the 11 years old kids counselor.

“hello! i’m y/n, i’m twelve years old, do you perhaps know where my counselor is?” you asked nicely and he smiled at you.

“yes! i can take you to them” he pat your head and took your hand to guide you to your counselor’s cabin. “wait here i’ll call her” he said and went into the cabin.

after a few minutes, your counselor came out and you thanked the other counselor for saving your day.

“hey y/n is everything o-“ “i would like to change a cabin please” you said, cutting her off before she could finish the sentence.

“why? what happened?” she asked worriedly. “i just don’t like the girls that much” you could feel a few tears threatening to fall and she was quick to hug you.

“okay okay, everything’s fine, wait here a few minutes i’ll go see what i can do okay?” she looked at you and you nodded. “oh? there’s jungwon! jungwon, come here for a second!”

you looked over a saw a boy who looks around the same age as you, confusedly walking up to your counselor.

“can you stay a few minutes with y/n? i need to check for a free place in a cabin for her” your counselor pat his head, “wait, we have a free bed in our cabin! she can join us!” he suggested.

“really jungwon? are you sure?” “yeah! we would like to have another roommate” he smiled.

you took a glance at jungwon and saw how his dimples suddenly showed up with his smile. there’s something about his smile that just makes your mood bright up and you don’t know how to explain it.

“thank you” you whispered and he then looked at you, “i don’t think we’ve met before which is quite weird because we’re around the same age, but hey im jungwon” he waved and you waved back, “i’m y/n” you replied.

“do you need help with your bags?” he asked and you nodded. he took your hand and asked you to lead the way to your now old cabin, so you could take your bags and place them in your new cabin.

as you arrived at the small cabin, you noticed that three beds were already occupied by the rest of your roommates.

“are you new? you’re going to join our cabin? hey! i’m wonyoung!” a girl with the cutest smile you’ve ever seen came up to hug you. “im taesan!” a cute boy popped out and smiled. “you already know me” jungwon giggled.

“i’m y/n, thank you for accepting me” you became emotional for a second and wiped the tears that were about to fall.

the rest of the day went by fast, you got to know your roommates quickly and even sat with them for dinner. when it was time to get back to the cabins, the four of you sat down in a circle and played a few games.

taesan and wonyoung ended up falling asleep before you and jungwon, so you two decided to just talk for a bit.

“your eyes reminds me of boba pearls” you suddenly said and jungwon laughed, “it’s the first time i’m hearing something like that” he covered his mouth in amusement. “i’m going to call you boba from now on” you replied and he nodded.

you kept talking and getting to know each other more. he told you that just like you, he didn’t like the idea of going on a summer camp, but due to his parents being 24/7 outside of home, he was forced to be in this camp. you also learnt that you were so busy on being annoyed with the summer camp, that you didnt notice he was sitting right next to you the whole ride.

you both ended up falling asleep really late that night.

the next day you woke up tired and could barely even function, but the late night talkings became your habit and favorite thing in this whole camp.

just like that, three weeks passed by real fast.

each day would be a new adventure for you and your new friends that you made, and every night you would spent those late night hours talking and chatting about whatever with jungwon. your bond became stronger and stronger with each day that came by.

on the last days of the camp, you all went to the beach and your counselor brought a polaroid camera with her.

“hey jungwon! let’s take a picture under this tree!” you suggested and he nodded.

the tree was a coconut tree, it was located a bit far from the beach, but even if you took a picture there, you could see the beautiful view of the beach behind.

you two called your counselor and asked her to take two pictures, one for you to keep and one for jungwon to keep.

she called you two cuties as you posed and made funny faces to the camera, and when the pictures were ready, she handed you them and you started fighting over which picture you’d be taking.

in one picture you and jungwon were putting your shoulders over each other, making peace signs with a big smile on your faces, and on the other picture you two were making funny faces to the camera.

“i like this one better! its funny and cute!” you said, “but i look really pretty there” he frowned.

“you always look pretty, boba” you smiled.

you ended up taking the picture you wanted. after all, jungwon decided to do everything to make you happy and to make this summer camp become your best memorial.

on the last day you cried. you cried heavily, suddenly not wanting to leave and get back to your family, especially not wanting to leave jungwon.

jungwon hugged you tightly, he too was crying. you made the best memories in this camp, and you met the kid that made you the happiest whenever you were with him. losing him meant that you’d be losing your happiness as well.

you held the picture you took a few days ago close to your heart through all the ride back home. “i’m going to miss you” he quietly said. “i’m going to miss you too” you replied.

“we’ll meet again next summer in the same summer camp again, i promise” he forced you to make a pinky promise and smiled.

you two know you won’t be able to meet up through the rest of the year, jungwon lives a bit far away and your parents won’t be able to drive you to there. you both also study in different schools and have different societies.

as you arrived back home and hugged your parents, you could only hope you’d be able to meet him again.

a year passed by quickly, and it was time for you to start begging to your parents to send you off to summer camp.

“what’s so good about this summer camp? you didn’t even want to go there in the first place” your father said, “plus, we finally get to stay at home for the summer, we can enjoy our time together”

and as much as your parents tried to convince you, you were so driven and stubborn so they eventually gave up.

now all you had to do is hope that he’d do the same for you.

“hello everyone! it’s time for another summer camp! are you excited just as me?” one of the counselors started talking but you were too busy searching for that one kid that could make you smile.

you squeezed and pushed other kids, too desperate to find the boy you were so willing to see again.

after a few minutes of searching, you found your friends, wonyoung and taesan.

“hey! omg its been so long i missed you two” you said and hugged them. “y/n! we’re so happy to see you!” wonyoung hugged you tightly, a few tears falling down as a relief to see you.

“did you perhaps see-“ “finally, i’ve been searching for you like forever!” someone back hugged you tightly.

you jumped in your place but when you turned around, you saw the only reason you’re going to this camp, your favorite person of all time.

you jumped on him and hugged him as if you haven’t seen each other in forever (a year is too much), he hugged you back and giggled, “i missed you” he said. “i missed you too.”

then again, you found yourself in the same cabin with the same roommates, the four of you together were literally inseparable, but your friendship with jungwon became even stronger than before.

“there’s something special about that, you know?” jungwon told you in one of your night chatting routines, “what’s special about what?” you asked. “about our friendship” he smiled, “i think it’s because we’re very similar and can relate to each other, i feel more connected to you every new day”

“think about it, we’ve met last year and didn’t even talk after the summer camp, but we still found each other in this place again” he held your hand and you smiled, “you’re right actually”

“i don’t know what i would’ve done without you” you sighed.

on one of the days, you got to walk around the camp just to relax, so you, jungwon, wonyoung and taesan decided to go picnic.

“can’t believe we’ve only met a year ago” taesan said and you all agreed, “it feels like i’ve known your asses ever since i was five” you added and they giggled.

“what are we going to do after the camp? vanish from your life and then return after a year again?” wonyoung asked. “let’s just exchange phone numbers” jungwon said, “write them down and i’ll add all of you in a groupchat once we get our phones back” he added and you all nodded.

the camp’s policy is no phones are allowed, so you spend all of your time together, without even getting bored for once.

the rest of the camp days flashed by so quickly, in a day you’d be leaving this camp for a whole other year, but just like last year, all of the camp went to the beach again before you had to say your goodbyes.

“hey jungwon!” you called, “let’s recreate our photos!” he completed you before you could finish your sentence, “you know me well boba” you giggled.

you took the pictures and began to fight on who’s going to take the picture again,

“i don’t want to have the same- wait no i meant familiar picture!” he complained, you two recreated the photos so perfectly that they almost seem the same (except for the fact that you’re a year older now). “but i turned out really pretty there” you held the photo closer to you, “you’re always pretty boba” he smirked and winked,

oh he just used your sentence as a roast.

he ended up getting the picture he wanted, after all how could you say no to such cute boba eyes?

then, the day you were most afraid of arrived, the last day of the camp. you were already familiar with the feelings that are about to come out and all the tears that are threatening to fall.

this year is even harder than last year and you barely even sleep the night before, you and jungwon pulled an all nighter because you wanted to spend those hours together as much as you could.

“i’ll see you next year too, right?” he asked and you nodded. “plus you have my phone number, so we’ll be okay” he smiled.

“it’s just that talking on the phone and being with each other is not the same” you frowned after wiping the tears. he knew you were right, so you both embraced each other until it was time to let go.

it’d be the same routine each year, you spending the rest of the year talking on the phone and meeting up in the summer camp, then on the last few days you’re recreating your famous picture together and crying when you have to leave.

you’re eighteen years old now, and its the first year that something had changed around the camp. you and jungwon became camp counselors.

you looked at jungwon, who was wearing his camp counselor shirt and smiled, “the shirt suits you” you smiled, “you look even more pretty in this shirt” he complimented you.

“we’re going to be counselors together” you pointed out. “yeah” he smiled, “it has been one of my dreams actually”

“to be a counselor with you” he added and you nodded, “i look forward to work with you, boba” you chuckled.

to say that you didn’t catch feelings for jungwon would be a complete and total lie. and it’s obviously the same in his case.

you two became OBSESSED with each other, your texting became from ‘hey’s and ‘bye’s to nonstop texting everyday.

as you watched jungwon grow up, you couldn’t deny that he was becoming more handsome and mature in your eyes.

and as jungwon watched you grow up, he couldn’t stop thinking how breathtaking you look by each year that passes.

through the camp, you and jungwon fell in love with the kids you were counseling. they were so overly adorable and enjoyable to be with (also the fact that they kept pushing you and jungwon next to each other just to explain how much they want you two to date added to their cuteness).

and as the very last days of the camp arrived, you went with the kids to the beach.

you and jungwon wanted to take another recreation of your pictures (of course, it’s a tradition already) so you asked one of the other counselors to take a look at your children while you’re going to recreate it.

you brought your polaroid camera and dragged wonyoung to take the picture.

“please! it’s going to be real fast!” you begged her. “it better be, i left taesan alone with the kids and i do not trust him” she rolled her eyes.

as you and jungwon got ready to pose, he paused. “wait wonyoung!” he said.

“im in hurry!” she said.

“what is it?” you asked. jungwon then took out something from his pocket, it was a bracelet with yours and his initials on it.

“i wanted to give this to you and i also wanted to ask you something” he took a deep breath, “y/n, would you make me the happiest person on earth and agree to be my girlfriend?”

you covered your mouth in shock, “yes of course!” you took the bracelet he got you and put it on your wrist, “i love it so much!”

jungwon then held your waist to get you closer to him and kissed you.

the kiss was so sweet and romantic, you completely forgot about the fact that there are other people in the world and just focused on you both.

*click* “oops im so sorry! i forgot i have a camera in my hands” wonyoung smirked and giggled.

you and jungwon blushed out of embarrassment.

“i understand that you two are in love and i really started to wonder what took you so long, but let’s just hurry i think taesan might’ve started crying” she smiled.

you two giggled and started to pose for your pictures.

now you have a new photo to recreate next year.

#enhypen imagines #enhypen drabbles #enhypen #enhypen scenarios #enhypen headcanons #enhypen fluff #enhypen oneshots #enhypen jungwon #jungwon headcanons #jungwon imagines #jungwon scenarios #jungwon fluff #jungwon drabbles #jungwon x you

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princelylove · 1 year ago

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Hi, accidentally stumble in your blog~ I love yandere jojo contents too so I hope to see your content about it :D

I don't know what to request yet but maybe we can talk about type of yandere. What is your favorite type of yandere? Mine is delusion or simp yandere (what characters in jojo you think they will be in this category btw)

Delusional types are adorable to me. There’s just something so charming about someone who’s so bent on being together that their brain skips the entire courting process and goes right into “We’re dating. No actually we’re married and have been married since forever and even our past lives were married. You belong to me what do you mean I have to stop calling for fifteen days.” I think my favored type is protective, but delusionals are too cute to pass on. As for those I think are delusional or simps, off the top of my head…

I’d also argue that Mista’s the type to simp, he’s pretty sure he’ll die if you carry your own shopping bags, but he doesn’t strike me as delusional. Love’s gotta be real to him, you know? He’s the kind of guy that can take a maybe, hell, even a hard no! He knows how to back off, but he’s just gonna keep watch from over here if that’s cool with you. I mean, come on, what kinda “friend” would he be if he let you open your own doors or pay for your own meal? He’s got a job, it’s totally on him! Don’t even think about trying to step over that puddle yourself, he’s already got you up by your legs to carry you across. He’s pretty strong, isn’t he? Oh, he’d die a happy man if you praised him for something like that. He’s like a dog whose tail just won’t stop wagging. You’re his everything, why wouldn’t he try to do things for you all the time? That isn’t weird, don’t shove him into the same category as creepy guys who never give up! It’s like typical hollywood stuff, you know? Romanticism or whatever!

You know who’s fully delusional, though? I say this with lots of love, but Diego. He just cannot fathom the idea of someone rejecting him, I mean, what’s wrong with him? He’s the prince of the british horseracing world, how DARE you reject him??? There’s absolutely nothing wrong with him, don’t play hard to get with him of all people! You should be begging for his attention, not the other way around, but here we are. Diego fully believes that you were made for him, you just don’t understand the gravity (I do think I’m funny for this wordplay) of the situation yet. No matter what happens, you’re always going to be his. As long as he’s got it in his head that you’re more of an object than a real person who has thoughts and feelings like he does, he’s not really going to care about your ‘yes’ or ‘no’. Look, pigeons are just meant to be led, and he’s already somewhat fond of you, so just let him have what he wants. I’m firmly of the belief that if you ever flat out rejected him, he’d just think you were unwell and needed him even more. Be good for him, he doesn’t have the time to play this silly little game of cat and mouse with you right now.

Joseph is another “You can’t play hard to get forever!” type to me, honestly. He’s persistent like a bloodhound, and is going to get in the way of whatever lover or relationship you’ve got going on right now no matter what. He called dibs on you, so, it’s totally fair. He’ll show up to your apartment or house and completely ignore his training if it means getting just a glimpse of you. So what if he’s got a ring in his throat, he wants to put a ring on your finger! Joseph goes the extra mile for you- literally. If you were to move out of town, he’d walk all the way to your new place if he had to. Joseph won’t be deterred so easily. You just wanted him to get some exercise, right, babe? That’s so thoughtful of you! It makes his day when you look his way, especially if you actually catch him showing off with his training. If you were to actually talk to him, or god forbid compliment him, he’d be reeling for a week. He trails behind you on your errands, taking notes mentally of where you go and what you get. One day he’ll know it by heart, and then you won’t even have to go on errands anymore! Unless you want to go with him, that is. Then he’s totally down for a little couple’s day out. Joseph will buy you whatever you want as long as he gets his fix in. Let him put his head on your lap and just stare, and he’ll be thrilled. I don’t necessarily believe that Joseph would kidnap you if you broke his fantasy too many times, but you’re definitely going to start losing a lot of personal time. It doesn’t matter how he got into your apartment, he made dinner. Haha, ok, you caught him. He ordered dinner.

I think it’s fairly obvious to say that Yukako is delusional. She has a warped sense of reality. Her crimes really don’t matter to her because she’s making up for it. Look, look, she cooked for you. Stop trying to go for the door or the window. Yukako loves you, so you’re going to be perfect for her, and you’re going to be perfect together. She’s firm about never leaving your side even though she’s already got you all to herself. She sees nothing wrong with skipping dating and going right to locking you up if she thinks you need her for something. You’re failing at that cooking class that school made you take despite your pleas not to? She can do that. You’re awful with directions? She knows every little corner of town. You actually don’t need her and are perfectly capable of taking care of yourself? Don’t talk like that. You need her. There’s absolutely no reason to deny her, so let’s do this the cutesy way she wants it.

#yandere jjba #yandere jjba x reader #yandere guido mista #yandere joseph joestar #yandere diego brando #yandere yukako yamagishi #yandere #tw objectification #request granted

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nomie-11 · 2 months ago

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Chapter 8 - So What?

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“So what?” Rhiannon asked, as Violet, Genevieve, and her sat in a circle on Genevieve’s bunk. “Xaden’s training you now. Wasn’t he already before?”

“No he wasn’t!” She exclaimed. “And this is different from our morning talks on the roof. He normally just gave me vague advice or changed my whole world view. Now he’s sparring with me, or at least he’s supposed to be. He says we start tomorrow.”

Violet cast a sparing glance at Rhiannon, before turning back to Genevieve.

“So what did you do in his room at 3 am the other night?” She teased, her eyebrows wiggling. “Anything fun?”

“We just kissed,” she grumbled, “and it was definitely a mistake.”

“Oh, come on, don’t say that!” Violet said, slapping her softly on the arm. “Tell us what really happened, you’re not telling us anything.”

“Fine, fine,” Genevieve groaned, leaning back, rubbing her shoulder. “He kissed me, and he totally was in the heat of the moment, grabbing my hair, pulling me close, the whole nine yards. And then when I pulled away, I felt like I needed to kiss him again, so I did. Gods,” she paused, looking down. “He smelled like leather conditioner and mint and Churum,”

Violet nodded her head intently, and Rhiannon looked at her with so much intensity that there was almost a flame of curiosity under her eyes.

“And then we talked some more, and he was doubting stuff and getting into his own head, and he gave me my dead sister’s old dagger. I don’t even know why or how he got it, but I didn’t ask, I just pulled down his shirt and kissed him again before leaving. I don’t even know why I left!” She exclaimed, throwing her hands down onto the bed.

Rhiannon and Violet just sat there, silent, eyes wide.

“So you kissed him,” Violet started.

“Twice.” Rhiannon finished.

“And he kissed me first!” Genevieve emphasized. “And I wish he would have just pinned me down onto the bed and fucked me instead of messing with my head. But yes, I kissed him twice and he kissed me once.”

Genevieve swallowed hard, leaning her head back onto the wall. There was a heavy silence after Genevieve’s admission. The weight of her words hung in the air, and for a moment, none of them seemed to know what to say. Violet was the first to break the silence, her voice soft yet laced with amusement.

“I mean… you realize that’s not just some casual kiss, right?” She glanced at Rhiannon, who nodded eagerly, still wide-eyed. “Xaden Riorson doesn’t just kiss people for now reason.”

Genevieve grumbled, tugging at the hem of her shirt, feeling the weight of the conversation settle over her. “I know that,” she muttered, her gaze locked onto a crack in the stone wall across from her. “But it’s like… I don’t know how to handle him. One minute he’s this wall of steel, completely untouchable, and the next… he’s pulling me close like I’m the only thing grounding him.”

“Yeah, I assume that’s kinda his thing,” Violet mused, her expression softening as she looked at Genevieve. “He looks like the kind of guy who pushed people away because he’s afraid of what happens when they get too close. But the fact that he’s kissed you? Given you something as personal as a dagger that belonged to her sister? That’s… that’s not nothing, Genevieve.”

Rhiannon, still processing everything, finally spoke, her voice steady but laced with curiosity. “Okay, but let’s not overlook something here. You’re talking like this kiss was some huge mistake, but it sounds like Xaden is just as caught up in you as you are in him. I mean, come one, Genevieve, if he gave you Quinn’s dagger—your dead sister’s dagger—that’s more than just attraction. He’s giving you pieces of himself. You can’t pretend like that doesn’t mean something.”

Genevieve felt her chest tighten at Rhiannon’s words. She knew they were right, and that was what terrified her. Xaden wasn’t the kind of man to give pieces of himself lightly, and she was far from the kind of person to trust anyone. Especially not with something as personal as her heart.

“I don’t want it to mean anything,” she muttered, her voice low. “I can’t afford for it to mean anything.”

Violet leaned forward, her eyes sharp as she studied Genevieve. “But it already does. You can’t ignore it. Whatever it is between you two, it’s not just going to disappear because you want it to. He’s pulling you into his world, and you’re letting him.”

Genevieve let out a frustrated sigh, running a hand through her hair before roughly yanking it out and slamming her hand down. That was a Xaden mannerism, not a her mannerism. They aren’t close enough for her to be picking up his mannerisms.

She could feel the weight of their words sinking in, but she wasn’t ready to accept it. She’d spent too long hardening herself, building walls to survive. Letting Xaden in—even letting Rhiannon and Violet it—was dangerous. It made her vulnerable and vulnerability was something she couldn’t afford. Not here. Not now.

Rhiannon broke the silence again, softer this time. “What are you so afraid of, Genevieve?”

The question hit her harder than she expected, and for a moment, she didn’t know how to respond. What was she afraid of? Losing control? Losing herself? Or maybe it was the idea that Xaden, someone who had seen some of the same horrors she had, could tear down the defenses she had so carefully constructed.

“I’m afraid of what happens when he decides that I’m not worth his time anymore,” Genevieve whispered, her voice barely audible. “I’m afraid of letting him in, and then watching him leave, like everyone else. I can’t handle that again.”

The room went quiet again, but this time it was comfortable. Violet and Rhiannon seemed to understand without needing to say anything. They knew what it felt like to guard your heart, to be terrified of the loss that always seemed inevitable.

Finally, Violet spoke, her voice gentle but firm. “You can’t control what happens, Genevieve. You can’t control him, and you can’t control how he feels. But if you keep shutting him out, you’re not just protecting yourself. You’re keeping yourself from something that could be real. Maybe even good.”

Genevieve closed her eyes, her mind swirling with thoughts she didn’t want to face. It was easier when it was just survival. When everything was black and white, and when the only thing that mattered was staying alive. She hated this. This was different, it was messy and it was complicated and she wanted to stand on the edge of the roof and take a swan dive off of it instead of unpacking why it scared her so much.

“I don’t know if I can do it,” she admitted, her voice cracking. “I don’t even want to let him in. I can’t let him in.”

“Genevieve,” Rhiannon said, her gaze softening. “We’ve all been through a lot here, and we’ve all got our own baggage. And yet, you know all about my relationship with Tara. It’s not about flinging your gates open and hoping for the best. You’ve been through too much for that, we get it. But maybe you let the door open a crack, just enough to see what’s on the other side, and let Xaden in from the storm.”

Genevieve stared at Rhiannon, blinking blankly as the weight of her words settled like a stone in her chest. Letting Xaden in, even a little, felt like risking everything. She didn’t want to be vulnerable, not when it had cost her a year and 42 days of her life. But Rhiannon’s metaphor of a storm, of Xaden being caught outside while she sat sheltered and safe—it struck a chord deep inside her. Maybe there was truth in what she was saying.

But she couldn’t flip a switch. Genevieve wasn’t the kind of person to ‘crack open a door’ and let someone in. The walls weren’t built to keep people out—they were there to keep her safe. She didn’t want someone to see the scars that were laid deep into the stones that were cemented around her heart. The scars, the hurt, the parts of her that were still bleeding, still raw.

“I don’t think I can do it,” she repeated, her voice stronger. “I don’t even know how to let someone in anymore.”

Violet leaned back, resting on her elbows. “You let us in, didn’t you? We’re having this conversation with you right now because you let us past whatever you hold onto. And you hate me, so you definitely can. It’s not like there’s a manual for this kind of thing, so maybe you just talk to him the way you talked to us. Figure it out in the long run.”

Genevieve scoffed, shaking her head. “I’ve been figuring things out as I go my whole life, and look where it’s gotten me, I’m still… this.” She gestured vaguely to herself, as if it explained everything. “I’m still this broken mess of a person who’s spent more time running from her past than attempting to live in the present. And, Violet, I don’t hate you, I hate your mom, there’s a difference. And I’m not even sure anymore that my idea of revenge being focused on you is the right answer. Everything in my head is like all jumbled up and shifted.”

Violet raised an eyebrow at Genevieve’s last admission, her lips quirking up into a half-smile. “Aw! That’s the nicest thing you’ve ever said to me! And that’s a start! revenge doesn’t have to be as clear cut as you thought.”

Rhiannon, sitting cross-legged, leaned in, her voice thoughtful. “Yeah, and maybe it’s not about being a ‘broken mess’ either. You survived things most people couldn’t imagine, Genevieve. You’re allowed to be a little jumbled up.” She paused, her gaze shifting as she studied Genevieve. “But you shouldn’t punish yourself for it.”

Genevieve groaned, running her hands down her face, feeling the exhaustion in her bones. “I don’t even know where to start.”

Rhiannon shrugged, her posture relaxing as she looked at Genevieve and then at Violet with an easy kind of warmth. “Maybe you don’t need to. You’ve already kissed the guy, for gods’ sake. Just… see where it goes. Stop overthinking it.”

Violet laughed, nudging Genevieve playfully. “Yeah, stop trying to plan everything five moves ahead. This isn’t a battlefield, it’s love. Sometimes you just have to throw yourself into the chaos and see what happens.”

Genevieve shook her head, though there was a small, begrudging smile tugging at her lips. “I can’t believe you two are giving me relationship advice. Like I’m supposed to just, what, go to him tomorrow during our training and say, ‘Hey, I know we’re sparring, but could we also talk about our feelings?’” She rolled her eyes, though the sarcasm didn’t fully cover the nervous energy bubbling beneath the surface.

Rhiannon grinned. “Exactly. Maybe mid-punch, throw in a ‘How about that kiss?’” She mimed a jab, her fist lightly hitting Violet’s arm.

Violet dodged the playful punch with a laugh, shaking her head. “No, no, it has to be more subtle. Maybe when you’re pinning him to the ground, you can ask, ‘So, you ever think about what we’re doing here? You know, other than me kicking your ass.’”

Genevieve let out a snort of laughter despite herself, the tension in her shoulders easing slightly. “Gods, you two are impossible.”

But their lightheartedness, as ridiculous as it was, managed to be a rope that she was able to climb out of the heavy spiral of thoughts that had been dragging her down. Now, she had allies, people who knew her more than she liked to admit. And even if things with Xaden were complicated and messy, maybe it didn’t have to be a war.

“Well,” Genevieve said with a sigh, standing up and stretching her arms above her head. “I’ll figure it out. Somehow. Maybe I’ll just focus on beating him in a spar tomorrow and leave the emotional stuff for later. Or never. I’m good with never.”

“Good luck with that,” Violet said with a knowing smirk. “You can try, but I have a feeling Xaden won’t let you avoid it forever.”

Rhiannon nodded, still grinning. “Yeah, especially if he’s giving you daggers and pulling you into heated kisses. I’d say he’s already in deeper than you want to admit.”

Genevieve made a face, but she didn’t deny it. She couldn’t. Her mind was already swirling with thoughts of tomorrow—of seeing him again, of the sparring that would inevitably lead to something more, something unspoken between them.

“Thanks, I guess.” Genevieve muttered, her voice soft, almost reluctant. “For the advice, or whatever that was.”

Rhiannon winked at her. “Anytime. We’ve got your back, Genevieve. Even when you’re being stubborn.”

Violet added with a mischievous grin, “Yeah, and when you’re ready to admit that you love me and that I’m your best friend, you let me know.”

Genevieve smirked. “Don’t hold your breath, Sorrengail.”

With that, she shoved both of them off of her bed, a mix of strange dread and anticipation settling in her chest. Tomorrow would bring its own challenges—both on the sparring mat and in her tangled mess of emotions she was trying so hard to push aside.

But for now, she allowed herself a small, fleeting sense of peace. Whatever happened next, she wasn’t facing it alone. She had Violet, and she had Rhiannon, and, whether she liked it or not, she had Xaden, too.

——————————

It was too early to be pulling training clothes on, too cold to be wearing anything but her warm leathers, but there she was, trudging down the cold and empty hallways of Basgiath to the training room before the sun had even risen over the horizon. It was day 1 of training with Xaden, and she wasn’t sure if she was completely ready.

Soft mage lights from the training gym cast a warm glow down the hallway, as the deep and familiar voice of Xaden and two others drifted out of the open door and down to her.

“So what?” The unfamiliar voice said, and Genevieve paused. “You’re training that Genevieve girl now. Weren’t you already training her before?” Her breath caught in her throat. She just had this exact conversation. She willed her feet to move forward, to interrupt the conversation before she heard something that would hurt her, but instead she pressed herself up against the walls and listened. Xaden and his friends were talking about her.

“It’s not so what,” He snapped, and Genevieve braced herself to hear that he regretted it. “I kissed her for gods’ sake. I totally scared her off and all she wanted was a training partner not a… boyfriend.”

The last word seemed to be choked out of his throat, as if it was physically painful for him to see himself in a situation so domestic.

“It sounds like she kissed you back, though,” The other unfamiliar voice responded, his tone a little younger, a little more playful. “Maybe you should just wait to see what she says.”

“This is Genevieve we’re talking about,” Xaden groaned. “She’s never going to say anything unless I force it out of her or another of her friends die.”

“Listen man, neither Bodhi nor I know anything about this girl,”

So one of their names is Bodhi. That’s a second year. I know that name.

“You clearly seem to know her well, so just talk. Gods, love is always so complicated and brooding with you. Just let yourself have a crush on her, it’s not that deep.” Genevieve’s interest peaked. If love was always complicated with him, who else was in this equation? Her feet moved once more, taking her closer and closer to the training gym.

“You are no help, she’s never going to-” Xaden paused as Genevieve entered the gym, his face of surprise instantly morphing into that mask he was always wearing.

“Good morning,” She said, tossing her water bottle down onto one of the benches. “What’re you talking about?” She questioned, clearly catching him in the middle of a sentence about her.

“Nothing, Gen,” He said, waving her off. “Let’s get started. This is Garrick Tavis and Bodhi Durran, they’ll be training with us.”

A nickname???

“Gen?” She quickly questioned, before she could stop herself.

Xaden’s mask crumbled for a second, panic flashing on his face as he spared a glance at Garrick, pleading for help. Garrick chuckled softly, his gaze flicking between Xaden and Genevieve with a knowing smirk. “Well, looks like the cat’s out of the bag,” he teased, leaning casually against the wall as if this was all great entertainment for him. “Xaden here’s got a soft spot, who would’ve thought?”

Bodhi, the youngest of the trio, snorted. “More like a death wish. She looks like she’s going to kill him by the end of this.”

Geneviev raised a brow, looking pointedly at Xaden, whose usual cool demeanor was unraveling faster than she’d ever seen. The mask of indifference he so often wore had fractured, leaving a man scrambling to regain control, but failing spectacularly. She could see it in the tightness of his jaw, the way his hands clenched and unclenched at his sides as If beating between brushing off the comment or addressing it head-on.

“Gen,” she repeated, more slowly this time, as if tasting the unfamiliar nickname on her tongue. “That’s new.”

Xaden finally met her gaze, the weight of it landing hard, though there was something vulnerable there—an opening, a slip of the armor never let anyone close enough to see. “If you don’t like it, I can stop.”

Her eyes narrowed as she searched his face, the lingering awkwardness in the room thickening the air between them. Was this the same man who had kissed her, or was this the wingleader? The way his lips hovered over hers in her memory now seemed at odds with the uncertainty radiating from him in this moment. It was almost endearing—almost.

“I didn’t say I didn’t like it.” The words slipped out before she could stop them, and she instantly regretted how soft her voice sounded, how much of her own vulnerability she had let show. She was here to train, to fight, not to get caught up in Xaden’s emotional turmoil.

Garrick straightened, looking between them with an amused tilt of his head. “Well, this is going to be interesting. I’ll give you two a minute,” he said, grabbing Bodhi by the shoulder and steering him toward the door. “C’mon, Bodhi. Let’s go pretend like we didn’t just witness the most awkward conversation of the century.”

Bodhi resisted for a second, wanting to watch the scene unfold, but eventually let Garrick drag him away. They left, leaving Genevieve and Xaden standing in the dim glow of the gym, the tension crackling between them like a box of sparks waiting to be opened.

Xaden cleared his throat, stepping forward, his familiar stoicism slipping back into place with each step. “We should focus on training. That’s why you’re here, right?” He sidestepped the previous conversation with an ease that might have fooled someone else, but not her. Not now.

Genevieve folded her arms, her stance firm. “You kissed me, Xaden. And Violet told me I can’t pretend it didn’t happen.”

His dark eyes narrowed slightly, the tension in his posture rippling through his broad, muscled shoulders. “And you kissed me back.”

Silence. She opened her mouth to argue, but the truth hung between them, undeniable. She had kissed him back, and in that moment, it had been more than just a reaction—it had been something she didn't expect to feel. Desire. Affection. The very things she had told herself she didn’t need.

Xaden took a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, though the weight of it made her breath catch. “But I need you to understand, I’m not good at this. I can’t just… let people in. Not when I have so much at stake. I can’t risk… you.”

His words struck a chord deep within her. She knew that feeling all too well—the burden of always being on guard, of not letting anyone close for fear of losing them or herself in the process. But a part of her, the part of her that had kissed him back, didn’t want to hear it.

”And yet here we are,” she replied quietly, her heart pounding in her chest. “You kissed me, you made the choice, you let me in, whether you meant to or not.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his hair, the frustration evident in the way his fingers tensed as they caught a knot in his hair. “That’s the problem, Genevieve. I don’t know how to stop.”

The rawness in his voice was like a dagger to her chest, cutting through the defenses she had built so carefully. She didn’t know what to say—what could she say? She wasn’t here for this, wasn’t here to get landed in whatever this was between them. She was here to get stronger, to train, to survive. But as she looked into his eyes, she saw the same struggle mirrored there—the same push and pull between duty and desire, between survival and the dangerous allure of something more.

“Then maybe we stop pretending we can,” she whispered, the words barely audible, but the impact between them was demeaning.

Xaden froze, his gaze locking onto hers, as if searching for any trace of hesitation. When he found none, he moved closer, the heat of his presence overwhelming as he reached out, gently brushing a strand of hair behind her ear as he rested his other hand on the small of her back. His fingers lingered for a moment longer than necessary, the simple touch sending a wave of warmth through her.

“Garrick and Bodhi are just behind that door, Xaden,” she whispered, her breath catching in her throat. “They’ve been listening the whole time.”

“I know,” he whispered back, his voice so low it reverberated through her thoughts. “But I’ll regret it if I don’t do this right now. If I don’t… let you in.”

The air between them seemed to shift, thickening with a tension that hadn’t been there a moment before. The room felt too small, the silence too heavy, and as his hand lingered on her back, Genevieve couldn’t suppress the shiver that ran down her spine. Her heart pounded in her chest, the steady rhythm echoing in her ears as Xaden’s hand traced the line of her jaw, his fingers grazing her skin with a tenderness she hadn't expected. The shift from tension to something deeper was palpable, every nerve in her body humming with anticipation.

“You’re sure this is what you want?” His voice was low, barely more than a whisper, as if the question pained him. His gaze bored into hers, intense and unyielding, giving her one last out, one last chance to retreat behind the walls she had spent so long constructing. But the gates were locked from the inside and she was beyond the walls with the door shut behind her.

“I don’t know what I want anymore,” she admitted, her voice cracking ever so slightly. It was the truth as much as she hated it. Being here, standing so close to him, the carefully drawn lines she had etched into her mind–the lines of survival, vengeance, and isolation–blurred into something she couldn’t quite understand. She couldn’t figure out how she had gone from thinking about Xaden as an obstacle to… this.

“But I know what I feel right now,” she whispered, her voice steadying as the words hung between them.

Xaden didn’t need to hear any more. In one swift movement, his lips were on hers, capturing her breath in a kiss that was anything but careful. It was raw, intense, and demanding. There was no hesitation now, no pretense of holding back. His hands were on her waist, pulling her closer as if he couldn’t bear the distance between them any longer. Every inch of space vanished, their bodies pressed together as the kiss deepened, fueled by the emotions they had both been too afraid to admit.

Genevieve’s hand slipped up his chest, feeling the hard lines of his muscles beneath the fabric of his shirt. His skin was warm, the heat radiating off of him was consuming her. The desire to have him next to her, close to her, overtook every logical thought in her mind. Her fingers tangled in his hair, tugging slightly as she kissed him harder, her body molding to his as if they were met to fit together.

Xaden responded in kind, his grip tightening around her waist, his hands trailing down to her hips with a possessiveness that sent a surge of heat through her. His lips left hers only for a moment, traveling down her jawline to the sensitive skin of her neck, where he pressed a searing kiss that made her knees weaken. She gasped, the sound barely escaping her lips as her body arched into him, her fingers clutching the back of his neck as she fought to keep control of herself.

But there was no control in this–no restraint. The emotions swirling between them, the unspoken desires, the pain, and the longing–it all came pouring out in every touch, every kiss, as if the dam they had both built had given way to the flood. Xaden’s mouth returned to hers, more urgent this time, his hands gripping her hips with a ferocity that mirrored the intensity in his kiss. He backed her up against the nearest wall, the cool stone pressing against her back as he held her there, pinned beneath his weight.

Her breath came in ragged gasps as he kissed her again, deeper, more demanding, and she found herself kissing him back with just as much fervor. It was overwhelming, this feeling of being consumed by him, by the weight of his desire, but she didn’t want it to stop. She needed it–needed him–in a way that both terrified and excited her.

Xaden pulled back slightly, just enough to look into her eyes. His breathing was heavy, his dark eyes smoldering with a fire that mirrored her own. His thumb brushed over her cheek, his touch gentle in contrast to the heat between them.

“Tell me to stop,” he murmured, his voice hoarse, though it was clear that stopping was the last thing he wanted to do. “Say the word and I back off and we train the way you wanted.”

Genevieve swallowed hard, her chest rising and falling rapidly as she fought to catch her breath. But the words never came. She just pulled him back down to her, her lips crashing into his with a fervor that left no room for doubt. This was what she wanted–what they both wanted, consequences be damned.

For a minute, she was just 20 and he was just 23, and they were just normal students in a normal school, kissing each other. They weren’t soldiers, weren’t leaders, weren’t scarred by loss and burdened by the weight of survival. At that moment, it was just them. Just two young adults, raw and unguarded, stripped down to nothing but their desire for each other.

And his response was immediate, his hands gripped her even tighter as he deepened the kiss, his body pressing into hers with a need that sent a thrill coursing through her. Her mind swirled, thoughts of training, vengeance, and survival slipping away as the only thing that mattered in that moment was him–his lips, his touch, the way he made her feel like she was on fire from the inside out.

The door to the training room creaked, a soft noise that barely registered in the haze of their kiss. But it was enough to remind her of where they are, of who they are. She broke the kiss, her head resting on the chest as they both struggled to catch their breath.

“They’ll be back soon,” she whispered, her voice rough with desire.

“I don’t care,” he replied, his voice low and full of promise as he lifted her head to his once more. His lips found hers again, in a softer, lingering kiss.

And she didn’t care either. For now, there was only this–only him.

--------------------------

Hey guys~ I'm a few days early with this chapter because I have been on a roll with writing, but I'm so unsure if anyone is actually reading this I got no traction on the last chapter.

I'll probably be back on Sunday with another chapter, but I don't know, if I get no traction on this chapter as well I may wait a little bit.

Thanks for reading! If you liked this chapter, please leave a comment or like the chapter and let me know you're here and reading this. I'm so unsure if anyone is actually here ;-;

#violet sorrengail #fourth wing #fourth wing imagine #fourth wing x reader #fourth wing xaden #liam mairi #xaden and sgaeyl #xaden riorson #xaden riorson x reader #garrick tavis x reader #bodhi durran #bodhi durran x reader #the wounded healer

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peterparkersnose · 2 years ago

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Merry (Din)mas

pairing: Din Djarin x fem!reader

word count: 1k

warnings: none, din is grumpy but whats new, small sexual reference ?

a/n happy holidays!

summary Din learns and celebrates about Christmas.

masterlist

join the tag list

read time: 3 mins 41 seconds

“And the issue is…?”

“There is no issue. I just don’t think we should spend our time focusing on the old holidays.”

Din sat at the lousy refresher table feeding Grogu. You stood on top of one of the chairs, balancing your best and attempting to stick a branch with some leaves from the ceiling.

“That’s not gonna stick,” he sighed, taking a bite of his food. “Yes it wi-”

The branch fell on the floor in front of the chair.

A tiny smirk arose on his face.

Annoyance rose on yours. “I’m just trying to give him the natural experience of a holiday as a child,” you argued, hand reached out towards Grogu.

“He doesn’t understand, do you?” Din asked the baby. He was half asleep in his makeshift high chair after finishing his meal. “My point,” he said, finishing the argument.

The next morning Din woke up early to the sounds of brush and grunts from the kitchen.

He opened the door from his chamber and found you wrestling a tree you seemed to have chopped down and dragged into the Crest.

“Maker Y/N, what is this?” he sighed, his hand rubbing his temples. “Christmas…tree,” you struggled, pushing branches down to reach the stem of the tree.

“It needs to go back outside.”

“But Din!”

“Back. Outside.”

“It’s Christmas!”

“I don’t give a womp rats ass what it is. The outdoor belongs outdoor and it will stay outdoors.” he demanded, pointing towards the open hatch.

You sighed, defeated. Maybe Christmas was an old holiday for a reason.

“It’s too early for this shit,” Din mumbled, slumping back into his chambers.

When he awoke, he was met with the scent of what seemed like bread- only sweeter.

When he rose from his chambers once again, he was met with the blasphemous sounds of what seemed like sirens.

“Turn it off!” he yelled, planting his hands over his ears.

He saw your confused face sitting at the table with Grogu once the music stopped. “What in the worlds was that?” he asked. “Christmas music. From a long time ago, the traditional stuff.” you shrugged, stirring a spoon in one of the pots.

Din looked at the colorful paste you had in your hands. It seemed like red goo.

“Oh, come on Din. Just sit with us,” you begged, kicking out the chair opposite from you.

Reluctantly, he agreed.

“Why is he red?” Din sighed, looking at Grogu thoroughly for the first time that day.

He had the red goo all over his hands, various places on his face, and somehow the tip of one of his ears.

“What even is that?” he asked, carefully swiping a bit off of Grogu’s forehead.

“Taste it,” you smirked, amused at his disgust. “Taste it?” Din replied, his nose was crinkled at the meer suggestion.

You swiped your finger in the bowl and sucked a hefty amount of it off your finger. That totally unintentionally turned Din on.

His eyes seemed to pop out of his head. “It’s only frosting,” you teased. The makeshift cooker beeped. You turned around, excitedly taking the sweet smelling things out.

“Christmas cookies.” you said, carefully placing them on a plate.

Grogu extended his tiny hand and began to levitate a cookie off the plate.

“No, not for Grogu. Too hot.” you said, catching the cookie mid air. You dropped it back on the plate quickly.

“Did you see the rest of the ship?” you asked eagerly. “Please tell me there isn’t some magic rabbit sitting in my living room ready to spread Christmas joy.” Din said, crossing his arms.

“That’s easter, wrong holiday. Come on,” you sighed, scooping Grogu up. The apron you had on wiped him clean on your way to the living space.

Grogu cooed as the two of you entered the room. A much smaller tree sat in the corner, decorative lights covered it. “And Grogu helped, didn’t you?” you asked, tickling the child ever so slightly.

Tiny decorative balls hung off the tree. “He’s gonna have a field day with those,” Din muttered. “Already did,”

The cardboard box near the trash was filled with broken bulbs. “And we’re not going to do that again, are we?” you asked the baby. He just whined and looked up at you with his sweet eyes.

“What’s that?” Din asked, referring to the tiny box on the ground. “That is your gift,” you smiled, sitting next to the tree with Grogu in your lap.

“A gift?” he asked, joining you. “I was going to save it for the solstice, but…”

You handed him the wrapped gift. “Open it,”

He carefully tore away the paper and revealed a small box. He opened the lid.

A tiny brooch sat upon white fluff paper. It was a skull, similar to the Mandalorian crest he often wore. This one had three sparkly stones engraved in it, one for each of you.

His lip began to quiver as he stared silently at the beautiful gift. “Do you like it?” you asked, patiently waiting for his response. The silence made you suddenly doubt your gift choice.

“It’s… beautiful,” he said, completely touched by the gift.

“One for me, you, and Grogu. Isn’t that right, buddy? I let him pick the color out.” you smiled down, looking at the baby now grabbing for stray pieces of your hair.

“This is just…”

Din was at a loss for words. He didn’t know how to tell you that this is the first gift he’s ever gotten. Or at least remembered getting. And it was perfect.

“Are you okay?” you asked, reaching over touching his shoulder. He lifted his head from looking at the box in his lap. A smile was on his face as his glossy eyes met yours.

“Don’t cry,” you said, embracing him in front of the tree.

“This is the best gift I’ve ever gotten.” he whimpered, wiping a stray tear away.

Grogu quickly jumped in his lap next to the gift.

“Besides you two.” Din smiled, patting Grogu’s little head as he admired you on his side.

tag list: @dani5216 @uwiuwi @alohastyles-x @samanthacookieone @maddieinnit0 @alexxavicry

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philosophicalparadox · 13 days ago

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The term “Modern AU” for Naruto fandom needs to die. (Jk, sort of). It needs a new name, for ontologies sake.

Like. There is no consistency to the technological advancement in Naruto at all, but nonetheless, it is a demonstrable product of its initial years of development, which is the 90’s.

Throughout pt1 and Shippuden, we get a weird and nonsensical mix of Showa era (all of it, from 1886-1949) postwar period (1947-1980 thereabouts, though Wikipedia will disagree with me on that) and mid-late 90’s tech boom.

Now you could solidly argue for a “modern” interpretation of the Showa-era systems and customs, although that very much interferes with 1. the Uchiha as a clan, because they are 100% late Showa / WW2 period culturally. Hyuuga are more representative of the earlier Showa era, like 1920’s or so. SO yes you could do away with that, but frankly those clans are not themselves outside of that satirical context. (And I do actually think Kishimoto meant it to be satire, or at least his editor, who came up with most of the Uchiha premise, did). And

2. The whole Shinobi premise, which had still-living threads during that time period despite Shinobi as a profession supposedly dying in the 1850’s. (Pfffffft, Like mercenaries went anywhere during the European renaissance; they simply went from mercs to commissioned officers. Title change but not role change. Same idea.)

Furthering this, if you take them out of the dirt, so to speak, then they cease to have the in-universe function that they do. They don’t have to — you can still absolutely mock up a Mercenary-Paramilitary-Mage Caste for the “modern” world, by which is typically meant: In Japan/Our World, not the NarutoVerse.

Yes I know I’m being pedantic, but to say “modern” implies “past” and while there’s lots of that in Naruto, there’s also:

90’s Telephones (why doesn’t the Hokage have one in their office??? Landline is pretty darn secure.)

90’s Electricity

Computers (90’s era, but clunky things with limited functionality but can store data)

Floppy Disks to go with the above

Security cameras

Polaroids (again, 90’s era)

The cutting-edge-of-its-time (90’s again) radio collars

Industrial production of steel (how? We don’t know. But they can build 80’s-90’s skyscrapers, somehow.)

Steam engine (not that impressive or modern, but like, Where Are The Trains. We got 90’s steam boats in Kiri, but no locomotives? How? Why?)

Medical devices. Oh the list I could make about that. All like mid- late 90’s, at least in Konoha/Orochimaru and Co. The iron lung does not exist, replaced by stately 1999-2002 ventilators. (Kimmimaro) The concept of IV nutrition exists and is applicable, even if Kishi did an absolutely abysmal job of demonstrating that. (On Kakashi) (the reality: So. Many. Ports.) That little innovation didn’t exist until 1982, and didn’t actually work until 1996. (Because figuring out how to synthesize metabolic fats and proteins was really hard); you’ve got Ostomy tubes and bags that belong in 1995, (Kimmimaro again) and don’t even get me started on Lab equipment. Do you know how long it took to produce incubators that didn’t take up a quarter of a room? Do you have any idea what the world of cloning looked like in the 90’s? (Actually, it was a lot more advanced at that point than it is in Naruto, which is stuck in like, 1980’s with that notion).

And I could go on!

And there is just as many examples of the inverse, too, where there’s things juxtaposed to the past level. Example:

Psychiatric care. Granted we don’t see a lot of that outside of Kakashi’s little stint, but it is very 1940’s-1950’s type BS.

Similar to that, most the stuff in the Interrogation Unit. From attitudes to technology, but mostly in just the very weird, 1930-1950’s way the whole thing operates. Kishimoto did not do his research there, very obviously (Torture does not work like that), but nonetheless they give me Nazi vibes. (Well, Inaba and Ibiki do, respectively). That part might be intentional, but it still doesn’t really make sense in the bigger scope. (Why doesn’t the village know things when they are a SHINOBI VILLAGE. A postwar village no less! Make it make sense Kishi!)

Some elements of medicine. There’s a very weird divide there, between synthesized chemicals that are complex poisons, which SHOULD mean complex medicines exist, (because the only difference between medicine and poison is the dose and many toxins have medical value) and the demonstration of this, which relies upon herbalism. I suppose both those would exist in a Shinobi’s world, but there’s a bizarre element of “only the bad guys actually have good medicine” going on, which again is a very 1940-1950’s thing.

Idk, I feel like “modern” sort of fits? But not entirely. Because fundamentally the NarutoVerse is a completely separate dimension, a twisted alternate reality that is very removed from our own yet also very like it.

Gahhhhh the world building in this series is hot, messy garbage 🤣

I would love to see an AU where it’s more homogeneous, like smack-dab postwar all over the board. Or even just bring her up to the 90’s. That would be actual modern-NarutoVerse.

But using Modern to mean “Our World” has always just been a small thing to bugger me. Use what you want, because I don’t think the term is going anywhere, but if I can’t share this anywhere else I can share it here.

#naruto #naruto shippuden #Naruto fan theory #naruto meta #writing #timelines #modern au

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corvusblackk · 2 years ago

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I SHIFTED 𓍊𓋼𓍊𓋼𓍊 AVATAR DR

The last few times I shifted were only with intention but this time I also said affirmations that grounded me in that reality (for example: "I am ene'ya te kalin satkie'itan” , “I live in Pandora”, “I am a na'vi”, etc…), and I went to sleep with the mentality that I was already there in Pandora.

I took notes right after I came back btw so everything was still fresh in my mind, then I added it all together and I tried to make a storytime as detailed as I can. I probably don’t remember well all the things but I tried my best to make everything accurate to what happened.

Okay so let me start.

I had scripted that Lo'ak would wake me up but that didn't happen, instead when I opened my eyes (I don't know what time it was because we don't keep track of time with clocks there) i got kind of scared because I found myself with my face squashed in a hammock so I could see everything from a big height and thought I could fall at any moment. This time I immediately realized that I had shifted because 1. I scripted it and 2. everything was too different, starting from the environment (forest) and ending on myself (literally blue), but I didn't even feel strong emotions like in the other shifts idk why, I was already used to being there as if I've always been there (in that reality it's obvious that I've always been there but you know what I mean).

As I was getting up I was told something like “you finally woke up, we thought you were dead” or something like that because it was said in Na'vi (now that I’m back I think its so weird that I knew and was used to a completely different language). Anyway, in the end it was Tuk who had spoken and she was standing next to a surface of worked wood with stuff on it that looked like exotic fruit. When I got up from the hammock for a moment it was strange to feel so huge (and semi-naked lol) and blue, but this too was super normal so I didn't think about it much.

There around the table, besides Tuk, were my father and one of my sisters and everything immediately became normal, I got back the memories and knowledge of that reality and I had the feeling that this reality was now a distant memory, or a dream, and it was there instead that I belonged. Tuk was at our place because she wanted to have breakfast with us, so then we started eating these seeds which were called pxorna and a type of fruit which name I don't remember, then there was also the spartan fruit which I think was the one from the first film (which Jake tastes for the first time in his new body). My mother and my other sister had gone hunting since I had woken up late, meanwhile then I decided to take Tuk back to her family and bro, I expected to be super excited to meet the rest of the Sully family but instead it was normal like everything else 😭 (now that I'm back here I've been freaking out the whole time that is, I still don't realize but okay).

Neytiri is fucking beautiful btw, and Jake is ethereal irl and is much more patient with the children since the sky people wasn’t there yet. Kiri is like in the movie I have nothing to add, she is nice to me but she is very sarcastic. Lo'ak is quite a kid lmao, even though he's in his 20s he acted a bit annoying and rebellious just because (obviously I love Lo'ak but I'm just describing how he was there, I’m not judging him) but still he was my best friend and i have to say we were very similar now that i think back on it.

Neteyam on the other hand.. bro, the most annoying person in the world, I’LL EXPLAIN RIGHT AWAY don't attack me. Practically, clever as I am, I scripted an enemies to lovers with him, not considering that actually in the "enemies" phase we would have been "enemies" and I have to say okay: it's not that we hated each other or were really enemies, but we kind of couldn't stand not even breathe the same air. He still always had that protective older brother personality and was kind/available to everyone BUT NOT WITH ME, I really pissed him off 😭 but it was mutual so yea. In fact, when he saw me bring Tuk back he snorted and changed seats so I remember that I kind of teased him about it but I don't remember exactly what I said to him.

Later I went out with Lo'ak and we went to get the ikrans because he wanted to go to Tsireya and wanted me to accompany him lmao because they weren't really together yet so he was shy. We had another friend called Nìmäng (he isn’t in the movies), and he was much more serious than us; I don't know how he could be our friend but somehow it worked because he balanced our non-seriousness. In short, we took the ikrans (mine is called Zeswavi) and y’all, it's a one of a kind experience, you feel the wind stinging your skin and you perceive in your body everything the ikran is feeling, then don't make fun of me but you also feel invincible, it's so incredible (I recommend you to shift there just to experience this thing).

When we arrived in Awa'atlu (I scripted that it's only 10 minutes flight away because I'm smart) it was just spectacular, it looked like the Maldives🧍🏼 but much much better. So, now I want you to trust me when I say that I had to hold back not to jump on Tonowari, that man is irresistible and so mighty irl, I can't do it lorddd. Ronal didn't like me that much and frankly I'm afraid it was because she saw me drooling over her husband. Tsireya is lovely, the kindest person there I must say, as well as Rotxo. Ao'nung on the other hand.. an infernal beast, literally; he’s cool I mean, but he was really annoying, he liked to tease me and provoke me every 5 minutes, but I responded by hitting him so it was all balanced.

The rest of the day was spent swimming with the ilus, playing a kind of ping pong with barks and also fishing at some point, which would have been very boring if it weren't for Ao'nung who, although annoying, is really funny. Later Kiri and Tuk also joined us, Neteyam as well, with whom I had a fight because I hit him on the head with the fishing net (it was actually hilarious). Before the eclipse we went back to the forest and brought back some of the fish we had caught, my mother cooked it and wrapped it in seaweed and it was all so good man.

We then all gathered around a bonfire and sang songs, other na'vis sang and some danced, it was truly magical. For a moment I stared at Neteyam because, even if I couldn't stand him, he was really beautiful under the firelight, but when he saw me he said like "what are you looking at, skxawng?" (“idiot”) so I insulted him and started ignoring him again lol.

At night I decided to shift here again because the experience was so beautiful that I wanted to tell everyone about it.

Thanks for reading this all <3 go shift!

#shifting realities #shifting stories #shifting to avatar #shifting #success story #shifting to pandora #avatar #avatar the way of water #shifted

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tigreblvnc · 2 months ago

Text

BLUE LOCK MATCHUP — m1ckeyb3rry

Your match WAS...

— Nagi Seishiro

✦ Well, I didn’t think about it for very long :D

✦ I was waiting to read the part about the traits you like in the other person and… Well, honestly, I hesitated for a moment but still brushed it off, thinking, "meh, it's part of life."

✦ So here’s our most motivated player from Blue Lock :)

✦ (No.)

✦ And I have to admit that Nagi isn't a character I can easily place because he's so unique and not at all receptive to anything related to human relationships. I even think he belongs to his own manga, within the manga itself.

✦ That’s probably why we end up with a movie named after him and a series of mangas dedicated to him.

✦ For me, what creates a funny and unusual chemistry right away is the fact that you’re extremely different… but that you connect on very specific details that form a common bridge between you two.

✦ Example: "I’m also pretty quick-witted and good at thinking on my feet BUT I’m kind of judgmental." Without saying Nagi is the most reactive guy in the world, in moments of despair (lol, going straight to the tough stuff), it almost seems like he doesn’t think and manages to instinctively react to anticipate a decisive move on the field. Stimulated correctly, he unleashes potential that, in my opinion, is unmatched by anyone else. He’s got this ON and OFF mode! Most of the time, he’s sleeping, slacking, or playing games; but during very specific key moments, he wakes up and breaks all performance records. It’s almost like it doesn’t require any effort, you know? It’s just an aspect of his personality that awakens under certain conditions, but it’s part of who he is. Meaning, he didn’t really have to work on it beforehand to possess it. Some like to call it "genius."

✦ And I see that trait in you when you explain to me, "I’m quite smart but I don’t really try to be?? Like I mostly play on my phone or watch shows/read in my classes but I have perfect grades anyways."

✦ It’s both awesome, and it can also attract a lot of jealousy. Those who work hard but end up with average or even bad grades, while you don’t need to spend time studying; you succeed no matter what.

✦ I can see my duo of prodigies :)

✦ "It’s hard for something/someone to keep my interest for long, but when it does, I am SUPER into it, so I’m really good at pursuing goals and whatnot!!" Yes, it’s the same for Nagi. You both need a goal that makes sense to you to become productive. A discipline in which you can excel once you get into it; but also one where you become passive once an activity loses its appeal. A downside that’s not easy to manage, on top of driving those around you crazy, who see your potential but feel like you’re not using it to its full extent.

✦ "I’m pretty cheerful and kind for the most part, and I’m a chronic people-pleaser, so I’ll bend over backwards to help out people I don’t know that well/to be agreeable, but when I know a person super well (ex. my family), I can def be kind of demanding/picky." For Nagi, it’s really the opposite, and it causes him problems in the other direction; he cares too little about his surroundings and what others think to even react accordingly. Which leads people to label him as heartless and selfish, something he doesn’t deny but doesn’t really approve of either.

✦ I’ve often observed that people who expect a lot from their surroundings are those who don’t let just anyone into their personal space, out of a need to protect themselves. This involves a very meticulous and sometimes extreme filtering process, often demanding a lot and becoming tough or guilt-tripping others when they don’t meet those expectations—sometimes unrealistic ones.

✦ But this behavior wouldn’t last with someone like Nagi, from whom you really can’t expect anything, absolutely nothing. Even Reo, who might be the character who knows Nagi the best, experienced his worst moments of doubt because Nagi didn’t quite meet his expectations—the one of staying by his side no matter what. What seemed obvious wasn’t true, leading to a violent disillusionment for Reo.

✦ So, I think it’s a match that could be complicated because it’ll require both of you to make efforts to step out of your comfort zones and accept each other’s flaws, but it could be extremely rewarding and fulfilling. I’ll come back to explain with some MBTI, but you’re typically a duo where almost everything contrasts.

✦ "As for what people tell me… I guess that I’m super confident, funny, kind, trustworthy (I was the one in high school who knew ALL of the tea because people would just tell me their secrets unprompted)." Yes. Really, with EVERYTHING in contrast.

✦ Side note, but when I read texts, certain words have colors, sounds, and sensations for me. They give off something, and when I read your whole section of likes, I see springtime paintings, sweet, fragrant scents. I see lots of nature, countryside, flowers, I feel silk, the smell of books, the careful unwrapping of packages to keep in a drawer. When I read the word "pomegranate," I see the fruit and feel the texture and hear the flowing, viscous sound of its seeds. All of this gives me a very colorful overall vision, and I think it’s the complete opposite of what I feel when I read about Nagi, who for me is very monochrome, on the same horizon line.

✦ "Traits I like in others: people who are passionate about things, people who are very kind/gentle." Well, you can see why I hesitated, right? :D

And that’s when I stopped everything to rewrite it all. The ""real"" matchup is right here.

#nagi seishiro x reader #bllk nagi #blue lock nagi #nagi x reader #nagi seishiro #blue lock matchups #suo matchups #clown

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