#the latter of which I’m having many feelings about in regards to this today | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

phantalgia · 2 months ago

Text

9/27/24 - I don’t know what to title this

Disclaimer: TW! Talking about heavy abuse

So, I’m not sure if I spoke about my plan. But it was in regards as to how I was going to get out and meet people. There's a certain discomfort I have with my therapist in which I cant talk about certain topics. Such as the type of people I plan on meeting, the number, and so on. As well as my identity as being queer and a furry. Although the latter I probably will keep private.

So I finally talked to my doctor. That was the plan. See if I cant get the ball rolling on this getting out thing. Meet someone. Maybe I don’t need a car yet. Can worry about that later. That's all settled as well as talking about me being queer and other topics. However...something happened...

This Year Just Keeps On Giving

TW part!!!

So....I just found out from a source today that my Dad was a victim of bad "s" abuse as a child. I don’t want to explain how this came about. But needless to say things feel even more surreal.

What do I even think? Well...it explains a lot. A shit ton. And damn...do I owe my dad an apology. I have been frustrated with him. His lack luster parenting, his infusement of anxiety onto me, and an inability to do anything but just worry. And...I guess his reluctance on me being queer.

I don’t think I want to know the details, and I will definetly not confront him on it. But the implications are damning to say the least and are absolutly critical pieces of information I needed in order to understand myself...intergenerational trauma is a thing afterall (not to use it in a way that devalues meaning to many other groups like BIPOC groups or survivors of genocides etc.)

It explains not just my Dad's behavior but also who I would become as a person. I...don’t know what to think. I mean I knew my Dad's Dad was shit but I thought that was where the abuse ended. But this just changes everything. What's running through my head?

How does this affect my relationship with my Dad, as little as there is left? Why do I feel the desire to not get close to my dad, both before and after this? What are the intricasies that affect my Dad? Why does his worry affect me and make me idle? How has this influenced me, my brother? Is this why I feel the way I do?

I did some digging and intergenerational trauma has an effect on how the victim's children grow up. Those children themselves can have cPTSD, ADHD, ASD, etc. It doesnt mean anything substantial of course. Correlation doesn't imply causation. And so what? We've had plenty of traumatic as humans. Of course we don’t have the mechanisms to adequetly respond to them.

But it still gets you thinking doesn't it? Wow. Unfortunately after being told this. There's a lot of disgust with myself, a lot of imagery that comes up, internalized homophobia. And...another thing that I’m thinking about that I don’t want to talk about that I hope to one day come to terms with. It was one of the first places I went to when I was told this new thing...new to me thing. I just I hope I can build the courage to tackle it. It's eating at me...it's not my values...at least not my current ones. And it's making me feel like a phony because of it.

I keep oscillating between thoughts and images and having to snap myself out of it. It's traumatic to hear. There's a lot of frustration of dishonesty? Like why couldn't he pull us aside now we're older and tell us. Why. Well i mean it's obvious. Why tell anyone? Why tell your children? Why tell your children well in their 20s when they could lash out at you for staying silent? The stigma is real.

Why would I lash out? I mean it's frustrating to have your parent keep this away from you. Something that defines how you'll end up being as a person. And how to move forward. To build resiliance. If he had told me, he didn't have to be alone with this. Instead he just raised his trauma, not his children.

I guess this means I’m caring this trauma too. It's a big responsibility. I...am not sure if my Dad will ever change. And I’m not sure if i'll ever feel a connection with him. I hate to say it but...I feel so distant from him that I cant imagine being at his funeral. My Dad is aging faster than his real age. It's just not something I want to see. I genuinly feel uncomfortable around him. How is he my father? It's fucked to say...but that's what it feels like. I want a new family...

I won’t be able to fully understand those feelings completely tonight. So...now what? I don’t know. I’m probably putting too much emphasis on this and how it has created me. But my mom is also a messed up individual when I was in the womb. That compounding stress...and the raising of me. Oh my god.

Who am I? What else do I not know? Was my mom physically abused too? What secrets is she keeping? What more secrets do I not know of?

I used to romanticize my own transformation into a person Id like to be. But the reality is much messier. The person I’m fighting to be is contending with these traumas, these mental issues, physical issues, indeciviness. I’m constantly searching for those people I ghosted and abandoned. That maybe they'll show up again or I'll find people like them. I probably won’t. Or i will. Who knows.

I’m bombarded with people. I feel like I’m being picky. I’m still searching for "them". They gotta be "them" but I don’t even give people a chance. I’m learning to expand my horizons a bit. This is new and often confusing. I think i have issues distinguishing different love types, relationship types, and how to include everyone. It's so much to juggle.

I gotta live. I want to have relationships. I want to be close with other sensitive and chill twinks like me or trans people somewhat like me. I want to get into my hobbies. I’m sick every day. Best I can hope for is things to clear up.

I want friends who want something different out of life and not the 9-5 grind. It's something I cant do. Where do I go now? Luckily I took the big step today. Just...I guess more questions, thoughts, and feelings than answers.

I don’t know...nothing is clear. Except I know I’m indecicive. I feel like there's more to say. But I don’t know what to say. I just don’t see any of this changing how I see my Dad for the better. I still am going to feel like he's a stranger from out of this world.

It's a very dark place to be. Not really hopeful to him. And I’m probably reaffirming something. But it's just like you had the choice to have me. You should have used protection or get an abortion. You put me in this world, didnt see my beauty, didn't see the hope in your child. Instead you made me feel like an NPC following scripted events. It might have not been your fault. But just why? I cant feel love and when I try to get it. It's too good to be true or is complicated because of my own nonsense. Why didnt you have someone when you were ready?

Sigh...I hope this doesn't seem like blaming. But. We live in this world where we hold messed up people accountable by equally messed up people. And we cant seem to realize that. We have nothing in place to put ourselves in front of a mirror and find something deeper or more hurt. Our ideas of accountability are so distorted they're just systems of reinforcing cycles of trauma.

It's fine to be angry and frustrated. And you don’t necessarily have to accept forgiveness. But we can at least do our best to make amends even if we don’t want to associate.

I’m angry, frustrated with my parents. But this has put things in context. I’m angry and frustrated with the person I was and am. Is this person worthy of forgiveness? Of having people around them?

Where do we go next. Where do I go next. Fate here I come...

#trigger warning #tw abuse #diary #journal #diary entry #journal entry #personal journal #mental health #personal vent #tw vent #vent post #content warning #rant post #justice #forgiveness #grief #shame #guilt

0 notes

meisteralready · 2 years ago

Text

To a man I will never really know but celebrate nonetheless

It feels like

We are at least an hour behind

In our spot,

The place we are

As opposed to Crystal Lake

Where we are supposed to be

For the funeral

Of Matt

My brother-in-law

That I barely know.

We’ve had numerous occasions,

Birthdays, first communions,

Other such family must-haves,

And beyond taking the piss out of each other,

Or the random, banal talk-of-sportstalk,

Nothing of note truly happened.

No histories shared

(I’ll most likely meet his three brothers today,

None of which I knew he had),

No common history or even hobbies

(He loved to cook and I loved to eat,

Yet I never saw him do the latter- he stood and surveyed as we would devour his holiday dinners-

Us standing in as his yearly restaurant)

But others knew him,

Knew him well.

He loves my sister,

The one I know least

(I left home when she was six

And stopped talking to that family for many years as she formed

- (I am like a distant cousin but with a past formed in grudges and regrets, even secondary relatives get more disjointed respect than I)-

And my parents loved him,

Contribution a cool 1K to his

GoFundMe/Funeral Fund,

Because he didn’t think to think ahead,

Even though he had a bad heart

And a pacemaker

And a defibrillator installed

For years before.

It was easy for Rich & Shelia to give,

They went to their house for countless dinners,

Gifted them hand-me-down, barely-used sectionals and plasma televisions.

They visited me in the city once,

Exactly one time,

On my daughter’s first birthday,

She’s 16 now

And she couldn’t give anyone who requested

their first names

If demanded to do so,

Even though they only live

An hour-and-fifteen-minutes

Away.

Matt died in his backyard,

Playing catch with his beloved retrievers?

Pinchers?

Some dog…

As my sister,

The youngest of my three,

And apparently the healthiest of cardiacs, shoveled the front drive

Because Matt could not.

Throw.

Vape.

Tell Bob the Dog to drop the ball.

Throw again.

Yet after a while,

Cara just heard unbroken barking,

And Bob,

Wanting a toss,

Could not be satiated,

And my sister,

Interest piqued,

Stopped her shoveling,

Rounded the corner

And found Matt face down,

Dead in their backyard.

A nurse by trade,

Cara quickly sought yet found no pulse,

His lips were blue

From death and snow,

She yelled for help and began CPR,

Eventually so heightened,

That she would fracture his sternum,

Trying to rouse him

From the other side.

“He was dead before he hit the ground,”

The cardiac surgeon told us.

His pacemaker lost rhythm,

His defibrillator fluttered and missed,

Both “common” the doctor said,

Which the rest of the family seemed to accept,

Except all I could think of,

Was which lawyer friend of mine I’d call

Regarding a malpractice inquiry.

We’ll land in about an hour-thirty,

And I’ll rent a car in my own home city,

Because I don’t own one

And no one can pick me,

And I could Uber,

But with that other one back to the airport,

A day-and-a-half later,

The car rental,

More-or-less equals out,

And I get more freedom.

I threw $100 towards the GoFundMeFuneral,

That’s all could do,

Because I am into this for $298 for the plane ticket,

$143 for the car rental,

Not including the gas,

Which, I know, sounds trite

And you should know

That I don’t care.

I’m kinda working for free this week

On account of these expenses

- no offers of a flight home here, $1K or otherwise-

And I will give due respects

And have appropriate amounts of grief,

Because I am fairly certain,

Matt would have probably done less for me and mine

Though he’d go on behalf of the bind shared of my cousin/sister,

But they’d leave early

For the fact,

He hardly knew me.

0 notes

jonathankatwhatever · 2 years ago

Text

Today - still 11 Jan 2023 - was fantastic as an experience with you, but not so fantastic in the feeling of work accomplished. I feel like I have it, but that the words don’t convey, which means I don’t really have it, but rather have a pre-version, an earlier version or depth of the Metaphoric Bundle of this Understanding. I think it’s about how we make decisions, meaning every single decision at every single stage, which means scaling. And that this idea abstracts and extracts so it has a grid squares and Triangular representation. I say both because it has to reach Triangular and I’m trying to phrase better with each question exactly what grid squares are.

As in, when we talk about a square of a number, like 36 is 6 squared, we can count grid squares because Start, Between and End all represent as individual grid squares. Why is that? Something so fundamental should be explicit. We must have thought this through many times, but I can’t recall, so we’ll have to do it now. It is perhaps easiest to start with Between, because we represent Start and End as the outside edges of those Ends, if counting along szK, and as the outside edges of the 1Segments that connect the Ends. Start and End then extend over 1Segments which are transverse or orthogonal. The former implies a wave of these, which of course is true. That is, if you say xK is Start and End, then yK is Between. I think I see something: xK at its midpoint stretches over Between, as we drew out earlier today. Does that make sense?

I keep having an issue with the layers of counting here. We’ve used SlideOver many times, including over Extents. BTW, I keep forgetting to mention that the concept of an Extent at its heart contains a proof of the twin prime conjecture. That is 1-0-1 Extends, meaning all other differential gaps which can occur, but for any of those to occur, 1-0-1 must have the potential to occur, which means it must in infinite counting (or you need to explain why it can’t). This is a version of the same thoughts used to describe the Collatz case: fundamenal attributes of SBE and Halving are contained in every integer. This came up this evening in regards to 10: it Halves to 5 only, and 5 appears in Triangular as an fD counting the interior 1Segment. So thus 10 is both of the Irreducible forms of these fD.

Can I put that in words better? The dividing 1Segment is shared between - small b - 2bT, so as a dimension Between D2. That conveys D5 much better: D2 and D2 with a shared dimension linking those, with whatever combinations you can find. That’s the internal expression, so when 10 reduces to 5, that becomes 2 of these. So becomes 8+2 this way, as well as 5+5.

So, the idea is that the 1-0Segment slides over and ‘through’ the intervening transverse or orthogonal, which is the Irreducibles flipping. Those stitch together, the same way that 3+6 stitches together.

So when we say 10, we mean in 9+1 terms that the SBE count, which expands to SBE3, and beyond, becomes 9 out of 1 to 3 to 9, so each 1Segment is a 9 is a 1, and the 1-0Segment slides over that 9 or 1, as we drew earlier.

I can almost say it.

———

Just hit a phrasing: the difference between telling lies to others and telling lies to yourself. These make a 1-0Segment, so we have everything from preservation lies to dementia. Both of these reference the internal dividing 1Segment. How? Let’s say it’s an external lie: then it references that as dividing one side, one compartment, from another, one bT from the other. Let’s say it’s an internal lie. Then it references that line as not dividing one side from the other, which doesn’t eliminate it, but rather changes the character of it. Say the former is 1 and the latter is 0.

This is what happens when I get a second wind.

This is D5 because? In the usual, a lower D fits within a higher D, and that is exactly true here because every iteration of D4 appears along and across the 1-0Segment.

0 notes

assetfinx · 2 years ago

Text

How Does Dillon Bhatt Is Revolutionizing The World Of Web 3.0 And Luxury Watches?

I am a passionate watch collector, advisor to both collectors and brands and the founder and CEO of Luxe Forte Limited.

From my formative years, I have been fascinated by mechanical watches, their intricacies, aesthetics, and movements. As a kid, I read QP Magazine, hoping one day I would own such incredible timepieces. Today I'm lucky enough to collect and turn my passion into a business.

What makes watches so special for you? Watches have always been a form of expression; each watch tells a unique story. Owning a watch is a journey; a watch sees what you see, goes where you go, and is a companion through your hard times and good times. Each scratch tells its own story and a story that can be passed down from generation to generation. A watch can tell a lot about a person; it is the first thing I notice about Somebody I meet for the first time. You can almost tell their likes and interests by what watch they wear. Additionally, I love how watches have connected me to so many people worldwide. Watches cultivate community. Now more than ever, they are conversation starters, bringing together many like-minded people.

Tell us about your journey in the watch industry and how your experience has been? During my time at university, I shared watch knowledge with my peers and organized meet-ups where we discussed new releases for hours. Towards the latter part of my university years, I made it my goal to attend what, at the time, was the most prestigious watch show - Baselworld. At 19, I went to Switzerland without knowing anybody and started making appointments to speak to brands. It was extremely overwhelming, and I had gotten turned down many times, but at the same time, a few brands welcomed me with open arms.

It was a truly exhilarating experience, and at that moment, I knew I wanted to continue to deepen my knowledge and build relationships within the watch industry. Nine years on, some of my best memories have been with people I met through the love of watches; I have friends worldwide and have been lucky enough to develop my passion into a business. Most importantly, I can still learn and share my knowledge with enthusiasts around the world.

You work with rare and unique items. Can you explain how you choose them? My love started with understanding the intricacies of watches and what makes them great. It is only natural to work with brands and watchmakers who share the same values. I lean towards independent brands as well as rare and intriguing watches, both modern and vintage, regardless of value.

Independent watch brands have very different values, which you can feel within the company's DNA. They are much more flexible and expressive (in some cases playful) when they create their watches. As they are not restricted by group guidelines, their first and foremost goal is to create phenomenal products. I am lucky enough to work with several brands including De Bethune and L' Epée, who are regarded as one of the top watchmakers and clockmakers in the world. My working relationships have naturally formed through years of friendships and a love of watches that bring us together.

What are the biggest challenges you face on a day-to-day basis, and how do you overcome them? One of the biggest challenges within the watch industry, especially within the realm of vintage watches, is the issue of authenticity and tracking provenance. The value of a timepiece can be determined by various factors, which include whether the watch is bundled with its original documentation, warranty certificate and other accessories, the current condition of the watch, and whether any of the original parts have been modified or replaced.

These are all extremely difficult to track; until now, the tracking within the industry has been done manually, and the information stays with the brand, as it isn't typically shared or made public. Web 3.0 and, more specifically, blockchain technology can be the solution. Where we can add a layer of transparency into the industry, information such as when a watch was purchased, its servicing details and transactional information will all be notarized onto the blockchain.

We heard you’re the leading person in bringing Web 3.0 to the luxury Watch industry. How do you see the landscape moving forward? Web 3.0 comes in many forms, and the potential use cases are endless. I have done a deep dive into learning about blockchain, cryptocurrencies, NFTs and the metaverse. We have just started scratching the surface regarding how we can use these solutions. I am developing Web 3.0 solutions for the luxury goods space and, more specifically, working with brands within the watch industry.

Through the adoption of Web 3.0, the luxury industry will revolutionise the way brands will interact with their consumers. We are already seeing innovative mediums of communication through NFT projects, new sales channels within the Metaverse, and improved after sales care and reduce counterfeited products on the market through blockchain protocols. Most importantly we are trying to bridge these two worlds in seamless manner, providing extra peace of mind and greater value for collectors and brands.

The inevitable goal is for my name to be synonymous with Web 3.0 within the luxury goods space.

Source: Outlook

Who Can Help You?

Web 3.0 Development Company

The internet greatly impacts everyone’s lifestyle by making our lives more sophisticated and easier with the evolution of Web 3.0 technology. We Assetfinx - Pioneer Web 3.0 Development Company contributes to its growth by developing personalized Web 3.0 browsers, Web 3.0 e-Store, Web 3.0 Event Platforms, Web 3.0 Education Platforms, Web 3.0 Gaming platforms, Web 3.0 Social Media Platforms, more. Our experts assure guarantee for its security, decentralization, ubiquity to initiate top-performing Web 3.0 Platforms based on your demands and needs.

Get consultation! Phone/ Whatsapp: 638 430 1100 Mail: [email protected]

#web 3 #web 3.0 #web3 development #web3 developers #web3 development company #Business #startup #entrepreneur

0 notes

dailycharacteroption · 2 years ago

Text

Draconic Druid (Druid Archetype)

(art by vest on DeviantArt)

A good long while ago, we covered the dragon shaman archetype for the druid class. A variant on the various “animal shaman” archetypes from Advanced Player’s Guide, it represented about as far as they were willing to push the concept back then. After all, dragons were, while excellent representations of elemental fury, beyond the normal ken of nature magic… right?

While I still feel like that archetype has a place in the game, today’s subject takes it further, firmly believing that despite their supernatural nature, dragons are a part of the natural world, so much so that they devote themselves fully to draconic shapeshifting, and to bonding with a drake companion (using the rules from Legacy of Dragons).

The history of this archetype is a sort of snapshot of how the Pathfinder system slowly grew beyond the confines of the 3.5 framework that it was spawned from. As someone who was here for most of that journey, it really is fascinating to look back on.

But I digress. The draconic druid and the dragon shaman can still exist together in the same world, the latter more focused on emulating reflections of draconic might in the reptilian world, while the former actively attempts to accept the true power of dragons into their very being.

Giving up many draconic abilities, these druids learn to attract and bind to themselves a mighty drake companion, which can emulate all manner of drake species and roles, or might represent something unique. However, like all drake companions, they are extremely difficult to replace.

As one might expect, the knowledge these mystics attain regarding dragons makes them well-versed in their lore, but also in the dangerous powers and abilities of such beings and how best to avoid and resist them.

Rather than wild shape into a wide variety of forms, they instead grow scales and fangs, taking on a fierce draconic, but otherwise humanoid aspect. As they grow in power, they can use double the normal energy to transform fully into a man-sized dragon, and later into a larger dragon.

If you’re interested in playing a druid, but with a distinctive draconic flair, this might be what you’re looking for, both with a customizable drake companion and the ability to (eventually) shapeshift into a dragon. That being said, you do give up a lot of defensive and utility abilities, so keep that in mind.

In any case, the customizable nature of the drake companion lends itself to a lot of different build types, such as a flying mount, a flanking companion, or even combined ranged artillery and support. Also, don’t forget that druids also get their own draconic polymorph spell at higher levels: form of the exotic dragon, which grants them primal dragon forms!

It’s appropriate that I bring up the primal dragons, as their connection to the elemental planes gives them special significance to druids. Alas, as written the wild shape of this archetype does not cover the Form of the Exotic Dragon spells, but if you want to replace or even add those form to their wild shape with some homebrewing, I’m sure nobody would mind.

In the middle of the night, a drake and rider smash through the sliding screen door of a local daimyo’s mansion, creating quite the ruckus and sending the guards into a frenzy. The rider, a druid versed in the mystic arts, claims that the daimyo’s bride is in fact a rokurokubi in disguise.

Called the Drake Tamer by bards and contemporaries, the vine leshy Moon Dew doesn’t consider himself the master of his companion Alexaar, but rather, his partner, the two having mutual respect for each other. Together, the two patrol the forest for threats against the natural order.

Desert drakes are an uncommon sight in the dunes of Misabur. While most are little more than predators, those that dwell close to the constant light of the Whiteshard become curious about the whispers emanating from it, and seek to learn from the humanoids that wander under its glow.

#pathfinder #archetype #druid #draconic druid #drake #rokurokubi #vine leshy #desert drake #Legacy of Dragons

12 notes · View notes

anasticklefics · 3 years ago

Text

Unsaid

Fandom: Star Wars

Characters: Poe/Finn

Summary: They land on a planet that has a field that tickles anyone who comes near, and Poe is having one too many feelings about it.

A/N: My first fic back from hiatus! Honestly I’m only posting something because I wrote more than half of this while I was gone, but felt inspired to finish it today. I hope you like it, I’m very proud 🥺

Words: 2k

A breeze of heat ruffled Poe’s hair as he stood at the edge of the Field of Laughter on a planet that had too much of an orange tint for his liking. It reminded him of dry, unforgiving land full of sand and nothing but sand, but mostly it reminded him of the times he’d been stranded, so thirsty he could die, running for his life over the scorching ground. Just last week, that is. It reminded him of being near death, and of watching Finn and Rey getting dragged just out of his reach.

“It’s okay, you know,” Finn told him now, watching Poe as Poe watched the field. “If you want to try it, I mean.”

Poe chanced a glance at him, wondering what the orange tint made his blush look like. “I’m good.”

“Poe.” Finn had mastered the knowing smile he occasionally shot his way wonderfully. An amusement to it, but also something kind that made Poe all the more embarrassed whenever it was aimed at him. Vulnerability, even during the war, was always something that terrified him, even more than the war.

“Really, I’m okay,” he said, averting his gaze back toward the dancing blades of yellow grass. They’d been told the field was bigger than it seemed, twisting and turning behind the mountains and the trees Poe had been surprised to find here. They all looked dead, but were apparently perfectly fine.

“If you’re worried someone will see or hear you we could go further.”

“Why do you think I want to try it?”

“Oh, come on now.” Finn bumped their shoulders together. “You don’t have to pretend with me.”

The Field of Laughter was said to be a very ticklish experience; so much so that the natives who lived by it had developed a thicker skin, quite literally so, in order to survive having to cross it. It had saved them valuable time, not having to walk around it, and it only got a couple of giggles out of the younger ones now.

Poe was absolutely certain he would never escape the dancing blades, whose only purpose in life was to tickle whomever walked over and through them. They were kept regularly short, cut with hovering blades and quick hands, as they could probably tickle someone to death if they were able to trap them. A field of torture for most, but something else to Poe.

“I promise to pull you out if it becomes too much,” Finn continued, but Poe could tell he wasn’t going to push it more. It was up to Poe to decide whether he was brave enough to be vulnerable in more than one way.

They’d landed there by accident. A mission gone wrong, but not so wrong it had really cost them anything. Just time, which they sometimes couldn’t afford and other times were swimming in. They’d been fortunate, for once, to be rich enough to give it away so easily to a planet that neither attacked them nor wanted to help them. Proud of their history, but wary of their grounds, meaning they told them everything but let them see little. Poe knew of the group that had settled not too far away from their makeshift camp, keeping an eye on them and making sure they didn’t stray past the point they’d been allowed to see. Poe wasn’t sure why they’d been forced to stay by the Field of Laughter of all places, but he’d been thoroughly on edge for the past two days because of it.

“Better be careful,” Jess had said, pointing to the field. “If you piss me off I might throw you in.”

Poe hadn’t replied, his ears still ringing with the story of the field they’d just been told. Lab-made. Torture device. Impossible to stop. It had made him want to peel his skin off to hear it.

“Poe.” Finn, his one and only confidant in this, hadn’t teased him like Poe had feared, but that knowing look had almost been worse. “Come on, let’s take a walk.”

One thing you should know about Poe Dameron: he had absolutely no idea how to handle any type of feeling that involved vulnerability, which included embarrassment and fear and love and lust. Unfortunately his feelings about tickling had traces of all, to a certain point. It was embarrassing to love something most people hated. It was terrifying to love something to the point of sensuality.

Finn had found out by accident, too. A drunken night, Poe too touch-starved and exhausted and in love with him to keep quiet, and while whatever they were was still unsaid and only shown in quiet fingertips to skin, Finn was all too eager to give him what he wanted after he’d let it slip. Poe refused to talk about it now, all of it unsaid and quiet, all theirs but barely.

Finn hadn’t mentioned the field as they’d started their walk, but Poe couldn’t look at him as they’d walked along the edge of it, maybe too close to it for comfort. One misstep and he could fall in, and then he’d have to face one too many truths at once.

Truth was, he almost wished someone would push him in. Just as an excuse.

“It almost doesn’t look like the blades are dancing,” was the first thing he’d said. “There’s no rhythm to it.”

“I’m sure they’re trying their best,” Finn had replied and Poe had laughed, nearly hysterically, as if giddy at the idea of having them dance over his skin.

“How does it even work?” he said now, two days later, the evening sun still bright and orange, but fading ever so slightly by the minute. “Like, do they go for your feet first or trip you or what?” He was only able to ask because it sounded so stupid to ask it.

“No idea.” Finn tilted his head at the field. “Does it work if you’re dressed and wearing shoes?”

“No idea.”

“Maybe we should ask someone. I’m sure they’d be willing to share.”

“We’d look too invested.”

Finn grabbed his wrist, squeezing once and calming him instantly. “We don’t have to.”

Poe went to bed untickled, tangled up in Finn’s embrace.

He only went because he’d dreamt of it and had learned to take dreams seriously years ago. In his dream it had been intoxicating, the sensation unbearable enough to have felt real, and so he went, wondering if he would leave or die there, laughing until it hurt him. That was the most fascinating part. Where did the line go between pleasure and pain when it came to something like this? How much could he take? Were Finn’s occasional prodding hands enough or was he capable of handling more?

In retrospect there was probably a safer way to figure this out, but Poe stopped by the edge of the field, feet bare and pants rolled up to his calves, with a relief he rarely ever felt regarding this. The early morning sun was more of a soft canary yellow than orange, and Poe felt he could breathe more easily.

“Hello,” he said, his voice a murmur as he bent to get closer to the grass. “Aren’t you causing a lot of commotion.”

He didn’t feel stupid to speak to it. Somehow he felt it was alive, just communicating differently than him. He’d walked as far as he’d been able to, but felt as if his laughter would still be heard if it caught him. Many years ago, when he’d had too much pride to admit to vulnerability, he’d been captured by a rope and remained hanging upside down for longer than was comfortable, squirming, struggling, but refusing to scream for help. He knew he wouldn’t be able to keep quiet during this.

The blades did nothing to acknowledge his presence and Poe longed for a thick forest - preferably a dark green one - to hide him from view when he reached out a finger to hover above it. An idiot, they would call him if they saw him. An idiot that’s asking for it.

If only they knew how desperately he was really asking. How loud and persistent and starved his pleas were, in the midst of a war that gave him no privacy to be candid.

“Would you let go of me if I asked nicely?” The blades were just out of reach. He could imagine them suddenly reaching forward and gripping him by the wrist, pulling him in and under for the rest of his giggly eternity.

But of course, they merely kept dancing. He wiggled his index finger over them. “Are you ticklish yourselves?”

The silence around him was deafening. If he fell he would be heard by the whole universe.

If he didn’t fall he could pretend he had. Say he’d been sleepwalking, hence his lack of proper footwear, and had ended up in this ticklish awakening.

Finn would know, naturally, but Finn would never tell. Would only try to gently coax the answers out of him and Poe would blush and blush and blush until he would say something stupid that would have Finn either laughing or rolling his eyes. Finn would drop it only momentarily, for it was too big of a thing to do on your own for him to never bring up again.

Poe wasn’t surprised when Finn appeared a moment later, his steps quiet but not non-existent. “Hi.”

Poe sighed and straightened, turned to glance at him quickly to hide the already spreading flush. “Hi.”

“I knew I’d find you here.”

“Dead or alive?”

“Hmm, either. Happy it was the latter.” He stopped beside him, letting their shoulders brush as they gazed over the field. “Are you gonna do it?”

“Not sure. Honestly I might’ve stood here for hours if you hadn’t arrived.”

“I can hold your hand. Pull you back out.”

Poe looked at him. Finn, with his own worries and dark circles under his eyes from how little he actually slept and his ever present way of reaching out without expecting anything back. If he trusted anyone with this it was him.

“Okay.”

Finn met his gaze. “Okay?”

Poe held out his hand. “Okay.”

Finn took it.

In retrospect it was both an overwhelming and underwhelming experience. The idea of it, the actual act of stepping his bare foot onto the field, still made his heart race. But while it did tickle it wasn’t the hysteria he’d been imagining. To be fair, he only let it go as far as to his calf before he decided he’d had enough, but for someone as sensitive as him it should’ve been worse.

It did tickle, though. It tickled a lot.

“I think you’re just too used to the sensation,” Finn told him after they’d returned to their quarters.

Poe huffed in embarrassment. “Not like that.”

“Oh, come on. I’ve pinned you plenty of times.”

“Not like that,” Poe said, quieter.

“That sounds like a challenge.”

As he’d stepped onto the field, Finn’s hand tight over his, Poe had felt fear and excitement and shame and acceptance, all at once, as the blades started dancing over his skin. When he’d realized, after the blades had started tickling between his toes, that he wasn’t able to actually remove his foot from the grass, was when he’d started laughing and couldn’t stop.

“I’ve never heard you laugh like that, though,” Finn said now. “I’m actually offended. I’m definitely taking this as a challenge.”

“How did I laugh?” Poe asked, because yes okay sometimes embarrassment made him stupid.

“Desperately. More high pitched than usual.” Finn’s smirk was intoxicating and fucking terrifying. “Want to try to recreate it?”

“People will hear us,” Poe said, already laughing stupidly, nervously, too smitten for his own good.

“I have a perfectly good palm to muffle it.”

And so the rest of Poe got tickled, too.

#tickling #ticklish!poe #finnpoe #stormpilot #finnpoe fic #star wars #star wars fic #tickle fic #unsaid #mine #ana's fics

132 notes · View notes

marchenkonig · 3 years ago

Text

I’ve been thinking a lot about religion lately, and my relationship with it. I am not a religious person, but I was raised in a very religious household. My parents, their parents, and my parents parents were all members of the church of Jesus Christ of Latter Day Saints. Mormons. Pretty much all the way back to when Joseph smith came up with his first get rich quick scheme my family has been part of and supporting the Mormon church. This has lead to my relationship with the religion to be super complicated in so many different ways, and has left a profound mark on me I will never shake. I’m not special in that regard, everyone who’s left can say the exact same thing. I’ve been really pondering on that lately, which has lead me to the discovery I’m posting about today.

I just want to make this clear right up front: I’m not here to insult or make fun of anybody. I felt the need to make this post when I found the Queerstake tag here on tumblr. It’s a group that profoundly saddens me. I’ve never seen a group so deeply in denial before in my life. The king and short of it is that they’re mormons who are also queer. If you know anything about mormons, you might see some conflicting beliefs in that statement. This group made me so sad, reading through their posts. So clearly so many of them hate being in the church, but have never lived a life where there were any alternatives. Posts begging the church leadership to not make them choose between their sexuality and their faith. Posts complaining about how every 6 months the leadership stands up in front of every mormon on earth in a broadcast that is mandatory to view, and condemns them and their lifestyle. Posts that start asking deep questions if the church, ones that really scrutinize it, that get so close to understanding the truth, and then miss the mark at the last second.

It really hurt me to read this because I remember being in a similar place. Trying my best to love myself in a world I felt like not only did I not belong, but also hated me. Praying to god every day to please help me understand only to be met with silence. Crying myself to sleep at night, feeling just so guilty about being who I am. Talking to people I trust only to be met with the mantra “doubt your doubts before you doubt your faith” as if I wasn’t riddled with enough self doubt at the time. Tricking myself into believing in the church because knowing god had a plan for me was much less scary than accepting that I had to figure it out myself.

And it wasn’t all bad. A sense of community I that I almost fit into, a set of rules to follow. It was even good at times. Rituals are good for anxiety, and what is prayer but meditation. Sometimes, I felt the “”spirit”” too (which is insidious for its own reasons. We’re taught that good feelings or that feeling of making the right choice is not our selves but god/the Holy Ghost telling us that feeling is correct, and not a conclusion we came to by ourselves) but of course this wasn’t the divine doing of god, it was just… people. My friends, my family, myself. It wasn’t god it was people. I get the same feelings hanging out with my friends as I did on church sanctioned camping trips. Bearing my heart out to people I love late at night is the same as bearing my testimony. Breathing exercises when I’m panicking are the same as the prayers I reflexively said any time i got nervous. And now I’m aloud to love myself and make my own decisions and know I’m the one making them instead of some outside force! And the best part of all of this? It comes without all the negative downsides and baggage the same experiences in the church gave me!

At the end of the day, I don’t know if there’s a god or not. I don’t really think about it, but I do know this. If there’s a loving being out there, all they would want is for you to be a good person. God wouldn’t care if you followed a checklist of arbitrary rules, just that you tried your god damn best to be a kind and positive force in the world, and if that’s not comforting I don’t know what is. Everything else is just arbitrary bullshit. Be who you are, you don’t need the church. I love all of you struggling with what I struggled with. You will find your people, I promise. You don’t need the church.

#Mormon #lds #church of latter day saints #church of jesus christ of latter day saints #tumblrstake #mormonism #Joseph smith #Utah #lbtqa #gay #lesbian #bisexaul #trans #transgender #nonbinary #lgbt #asexual #aromantic

23 notes · View notes

lettrespromises · 4 years ago

Text

#LettresPromises informs you : You have one notification.

──➤ Roronoa Zoro sent you a love letter to celebrate +400 followers, would you like to read it?

@newfriendjen sent a letter : ❝Hi Friend! Congrats again on your 400!! You definitely deserve many more! If you still have a spot open for you event (ignore if you filled them!), can I request: Smut Prompt #15 with Zoro 😏 please and thank you so much!❞ the author sent a letter : ❝dear jen, to say i got a bit carried while writing this is a bit of an understatement! but i hope you’ll like it as much as i liked writing it, all while cackling like a villain as i was writing this. thank you tons for the sweet words, you are such a sweetheart and i’m so lucky to know you! sending you lots of love! sealed with a kiss, nikki.❞

──➤ Prompt used : #15 “Look at what you’re doing to me.” ─➤ Genre : Smut. ➤ Warnings : MINORS DO NOT READ THIS, 18+ ONLY. Sexual intercourse, jealous sex, mild degradation, choking, biting, cunninlingus, penetration, spanking (once), sir kink.

The weather of the New World was often unforgiving, unpredictable, and at times, untamable. Sometimes, Mother Nature showed she was capable of crossing the limit of Nami’s extended knowledge regarding climate (and God knows her brain was severely infused with every secrets regarding the different kinds of weather, rendering her as a living, walking encyclopedia.) But alas, sometimes the rage of Mother Nature would be thrown upon any poor ship unready to face her wrath in the forms of undying tornados and waves that could reach the sky.

Hence why, every morning, Nami’s prediction on today’s weather was awaited by all, very much like a prophecy which was often set to come true— and if said prophecy announced any kind of weather gravitating around the lexical field of a natural catastrophe, one wouldn’t be surprised to perceive Usopp down on his knees in a praying position, diverse and unintelligible wishes to survive Mother Nature’s anger.

Much to the crew’s collective joy, the navigator had announced the most ideal weather— sunshine, a slight breeze and no cloud in sight, what appeared to be a regular weather in heaven. And, why of course, such a hot weather meant that both Nami and the local archeologist, Nico Robin, would bathe under the sun and relieve any kind of tension which had settled in after several fights (or just the exhaustion of having to deal with Luffy on a daily basis.)

And there you were, standing like a mannequin in the girls’ room in company of Nami and Robin, the latter throwing you an amused look at the way Nami was comparing which bikini would look better on you— the red one, an appeal for passion, or the black one, a statement of boldness? Her brows furrowed in unison at her poor attempt to make a decision, comparing how the colors married the shade of your skin.

« Robin, how are we feeling about the red bikini? It’s so cute, but I have a feeling something is missing… » The navigator wondered, her gaze falling on the taller woman next to her.

Robin couldn’t refrain from allowing a giggle from leaving her lips, surely it meant that she had her idea, an ill-intentioned one, that is. And, oh well, to say she had just a mere idea was an understatement : as she remained still, Robin summoned a couple of limbs to look for a green-colored bikini hidden in the drawers only to bring it to Nami’s attention. The two women shared a teasing glance, as if they communicated intentions filled with mischief through their eyes alone.

« I do believe something was missing, too. » Robin trailed off, bringing an index under her chin. « Something that might appeal to a certain swordsman. »

The evil cackle falling from Nami’s lips announced nothing good, and the sweet tone of her voice only deepened that sentiment. « You know how the saying goes : great minds think alike. »

« Hold on, what are you—… » You began, only to be cut off by the navigator, « Yeah, yeah, whatever you have to say, Y/N. We’re not fools, you know? You’re going to look like a real stunner with this bikini on, and I know that a certain someone won’t be able to resist. » She concluded her sentence with a wink sent your way, boy, sometimes you did understand why Zoro called her a witch at times.

« Join us when you’re ready, Y/N. I’m intrigued to see how this will go. » Concluded Robin, accompanying Nami towards the door to let you some privacy so you could change into the bikini, not that you have never changed in front of them and vice versa, but oh well.

You were now all alone, still haven’t moved an inch. Your thumb was brushing against the green fabric of the bikini over and over again until it had become some kind of obsession. But the more the motions continued, the more you realized that perhaps there was no other way to get out of this trap glamorously set by Robin and Nami. A sigh of despair left your lips, swearing to yourself that you’d have your payback sooner than later.

The door of the girls’ bedrooms slammed open, allowing your figure sculpted by the finest hands of the muses of beauty to be exposed to the kisses of the sun. The first sound to rip apart your thoughts was a squeal which left Nami’s mouth, the latter shaking Robin’s forearm with urgency to bring her attention onto you. « Robin, Robin! Look at her, isn’t she to die for? I’d bet all my money that Zoro is going to throw himself on her. I mean, just look at her! »

The same amused smile graced Robin’s facial traits, lowering her shades just a bit to have a good glance at how the oh so awaited green bikini embraced your body. « I must confess that it’s impossible to resist her. »

The words leaving her lips became clearer and clearer the more you approached them, a palette of rosy tones sitting proudly on top of your cheekbones at their compliments. « We saved you a seat, Miss I’m-too-sexy-for-my-own-good. Come with us! » Nami said, patting the empty spot next to her to which you wordlessly replied with a nod, sitting between her and Robin.

« You’re so evil, I kinda hate you for it. » A smile plastered upon your lips as the words died on your tongue.

« You love us and you know it. » Nami replied, letting her hand lingering on your forearm. « Ooh, would you look at that, Robin? The show is about to begin. » She concluded, taking a sip out of her cocktail with a gleam of mischief shining in her eyes.

And by show, the navigator undoubtedly meant the sudden appearance of the Sunny’s resident lover who had stormed out of the kitchen with a plate of different kinds of treats and cocktails for his ladies, spoiling them rotten on sunny days if it meant he could allow his eyes to linger a bit on your bodies in bikinis.

The first act of the show had begun in a flashy manner, as soon as Sanji closed the door leading to the kitchen behind him, the plate he was holding had fell onto the floor, a loud echo reasoning into the swordsman’s ears who was stuck in a deep state of slumber… Until now.

« I must have saved a country in my previous life to be worthy of such a privilege. » Sanji sobbed, falling onto his knees, « Y/N, you’re a goddess amongst us, we’re not worthy, I’m not worthy of your beauty. I will worship you everyday, I will cover you in love until my very last breath! » The cook continued, more and more praises falling from his lips in a continuous cascade as your cheeks were getting more and more red by the second. Alas, the more the blonde sang your praises, the more the swordsman was stirring awake— and if there was one thing Zoro hated with passion besides Sanji, it was waking up to loud noises.

Sanji had approached you, on one knee, the back of your hand pressed against his lips as the tears falling from his lips mixed with the blood leaking from his nose. « Thank you, my goddess, thank you for blessing my sore eyes. Words can’t describe how—… » And he went on and on again, his lips still traveling from the back of your hand to your forearm under Nami’s disgusted stare who yanked you away from him.

« My goddess—… »

« Oi! Do you ever shut up, stupid cook? » And despite the numerous occasions on which Zoro and Sanji have fought, Zoro’s words seemed intensely more acerbic, as sharp as the swords laying to his side, which even surprised Sanji.

« Were you talking to me, mosshead? » Sanji taunted.

« I don’t see anyone else here acting like a damn fool. » Zoro began, his sole eye conveying so much anger you could feel it. « Know your place. »

Nami elbowed Robin once more, the latter having long forgotten about the book sitting on her lap at this point. Sanji stepped towards the swordsman, dangerously reducing the space between the both of them until their foreheads were touching. There was no frown noticeable on Zoro’s face, but a blank expression which let through a pure anger. « She belongs to me, hands off what’s mine. » The swordsman spat, his shoulder hitting Sanji’s as he walked past him, leaving the cook in a stupor.

« Oi! You. » He said, pointing at your frame with his index. « Follow me. You and I are gonna’ have a word. »

He cursed himself for allowing his gaze to fall on your form, knowing damn well that with each second he spent looking at you in this green bikini (this damn color, he thought), the more he was falling under the spells casted by the muses of lust.

« Go get some! » Nami whispered, her tongue gracing her bottom lip.

« We expect all the details afterwards, my dear Y/N. » Robin giggled.

You had barely enough time to form any kind of response that you felt the foreign presence of Zoro’s digits snaking around your wrists and yanking you towards him. « Hey, I’m sure we can talk about this calmly, right? We can chat about it over a drink, I’ll ask Sanji to—… » Alas, your sentence never found its end, your mind going numb at the death glare Zoro sent your way as you mentioned Sanji’s name. But, paradoxically enough, it only fueled your arousal even more.

Zoro led you to the crow’s nest, trapping you and him both inside the same room. And as the silence grew heavier and heavier, until becoming asphyxiating, Zoro’s snicker broke the silence in the most mischievous way. A look of confusion was painted on your face, and you were quick to point at it. « W-What are you laughing at? »

« Do you think I’m fucking stupid? » Zoro half-asked.

You tilted your head to the side, slowly backing away until your back met the unforgiving surface of the wooden wall. « Answer me. » He demanded, one of his hand grabbing both of your wrists in one hold pinned above your head whilst his other hand cradled your jaw so you had no choice but devote your attention onto him.

« I don’t know what you’re talking about. » You pleaded, cheeks burning under the rosy tone as you felt his uneven breaths crashing against the column of your neck.

Wrong answer, Zoro shoved his knee between your already trembling legs. « You like the attention, hah? You love it when that pervert of a cook was throwing himself on you, is that it? Tch. » He was feeding his lust off of the scared expression on your face, blood rushing in the tightest space possible by the second.

« No answer, huh? ‘Guess I’m gonna have to teach you some manners, because it looks like you forgot who you belong to. » And with that, he dug his teeth into the skin of your neck, alternating between biting and sucking motions to form the most ravishing love bite— a symbol of belonging if you will. You squealed at the sudden sensation of his pearly whites inking his name into your skin, giving him exactly the reaction he was anticipating.

You rocked your hips against the thigh settled between your legs, a desperate attempt at getting some friction for your poor and aching core in need for attention. Zoro clicked his tongue once more at your antics, choosing to hush you by continuing the trail of hickeys adorning your martyr of a neck. « Care to explain what you’re doing? Throwing yourself on my thigh because you couldn’t get the shit cook, hah? You’re so fucking desperate, it makes me want to leave you there all alone. »

« Zoro! Please don’t, don’t leave me! I just need you, I don’t need anyone else but you! I promise I’ll be good but please, please, don’t leave me. » You pleaded, a clear veil of despair covering your eyes under his impassible expression.

The façade worn off soon, letting a smirk throne amongst his facial features instead. « Who do you belong to? » Zoro demanded, gliding the hand that was under your chin to your throat and applied just enough pressure to make sure to earn absolute submissiveness out of you.

« Y-You… » You choked out, the lack of oxygen marrying so well with your growing arousal.

His smirk only grew wider, a real testimony of the sick thoughts implanted in his brain that would make a demon blush. Both of his hand retreated to his side, gaze falling on the unmissable erection showing through his dark pants. His eyes alternated between you and the bulge in his pants, your mouth going dry at the wordless order. « If you want to be a whore, then be a good whore and suck me off, yeah? Don’t give me those eyes, you want it. »

You sunk to your knees, tongue wetting your lips in anticipation for what was bound to come. And whilst your eyes were stuck on his form, your fingers were busy tugging down at his pants to reveal his grey underwear stained with pre-cum. The sight of this alone was enough to send yet another wave of arousal down to your core. And as his cock sprung free from the constriction of his boxers, his girth slapping against his exposed abdomen and the tip rouge from anticipation, you were convinced you could’ve come undone from the sight of this alone.

« Suck. » He ordered, grabbing a fistful of your hair to force your towards his aching cock and the veil of pre-cum coating the tip.

And thus it began. You flattened your tongue, drawing a large lick from the base of his cock all the way to the tip where you finished with a few kitten licks, knowing damn well the head was where all the nerves devoted to pleasure were hidden. « Don’t tease and put your mouth to good use, whore. » Zoro said, almost betrayed by the groan threatening to be released.

Following the rules of performative language, you began to rock your head back and forth around his cock, making sure that your tongue was coating in a lustful love each inch of his girth whilst hums of pleasure were leaving your lips as you went. The hold of your hair in Zoro’s fist grew tighter and so did the metaphorical knots in his stomach as you went along, until the tip of his cock reached the back of your throat— such enticing sensation earned a growl out of him. Fuck.

« F-Fuck. Look at what you’re doing to me… Ah! Shit. Enough! » He ordered, yanking your head away from his cock, and the sight of the corners of your mouth dripping with the sweet marriage of his pre-cum and your drool could have provoked an orgasm out of him at this very moment.

« It’s too soon, and it’d be giving you what you want, huh? Too fucking bad, I’m going to cum in that sweet pussy of yours and you’re gonna love it. Ya’ hear me? » He asked without really asking, and taken by a rush of lust, you could only nod in return. « Y-Yes. » You stuttered. « You’re missing something. » Zoro added. You swallowed thickly before adding « Yes, yes, sir. » Your response caused an ill-intentioned snicker to fall from his lips. « That’s right. Now get on your back, and make sure to be as loud as you can, I want everyone on this damn ship to hear how I can make you scream. »

Zoro’s glorious height forced you to lay back until your spine touched the mattress where all the sins would soon break free. The smirk on his face never left, a pure testimony of what all the sinful deeds he was bound to accomplish. You were now trapped between his forearms, hips circled by his knees— bending under his dominance. « Did you wear that for me? » Zoro asked, slapping the string of the bikini top against your skin.

« I d-did, it’s all for you because I’m all yours. » Your response caused a chuckle to break from his lips, sweet words feeding his ego some more. And in a flash, his fingers had ripped said bikini top in half (you made a mental note that you now owed a serious debt to Nami), and there you were, (almost) in all you bare glory. « Fuck, if only you knew the things you do to me. »

Zoro wasted no time and threw all caution out of the window as his mouth latched onto your breasts, the motions of his tongue around your bud causing your spine to pay homage to the moon from how arched it was. His pink muscle flickered around your nipple before he swallowed your breast whole, his drool covering your flesh in a sinful veil. And because he was such a giver for his pretty girl, he gave the same treatment to the other breast whilst gasps left your lips over and over again at the methodical motions of his tongue, your anatomy held no secret for him.

« Are you going shy on me now? Did you forget what I said? » He trailed off, reducing the space between his lips and your ear, « I said I want you to be fucking loud. »

And with that, he left a trail of open-mouthed kisses down your stomach before tearing apart (once more) your poor martyr of a bikini bottom under your desperate attempts to keep it intact. Were you challenging him? Oh well… Zoro has always been the type to face any challenge thrown his way. « Zoro—… Sir, please! » You pleaded, not knowing really why.

« You’re such a desperate little thing, huh? » He leaned down to face your core, glistening in its lustful glory for him and him only. Zoro pressed a finger against your folds, dragging it vertically to obtain a finger pad covered in your slicks. « So fucking wet for me already? ‘Bet that shit cook can’t make you as wet as me. » He stated, confidence embedded in his every word. « Only you can make me feel this way, sir. » You replied before he crashed his lips onto yours in an uncharacteristically sweet manner to cut you off. « And why’s that? » The swordsman asked, already knowing the answer. « Because… Because I belong to you. » He pressed yet another kiss against your lips for having given the answer that had been lingering on his mind. « Good girl. »

Your reward came in the form of his tongue brushing your folds, flickering motions against your sensitive bud sending you in overdrive as continuous waves of pleasure washed over you ceaselessly, the knots in your stomach tightening each time his tongue touched you. Two of his digits poked your entrance, teasing you to let your torture last before they penetrated you. The sudden sensation caused you to let out a dragged whimper accompanied by his name coated in a sinful tone. « S-Sir please, please just fuck me— I can’t take the teasing, ahh, fuck, fuck! Please, please! » You begged, eyelids shutting close under the pleasure.

But your pleas fell in deaf ears as he kept pumping his fingers in and out of you, sucking onto your sensitive bud to build an orgasm within you that he was bound to deny. He knew you were close by the way you were holding his green hair, tugging him ever closer to your core to amplify the inferno burning within you. But alas, to your greatest displeasure, all the motions ceased in one go under the hint of mischief glowing in his eye.

« You’re gonna cum on my terms, and when I say so. Got it? » He seethed, knowing damn well that his own end was going to arrive soon. He gave his girth a few experimental pumps, allowing the pre-cum to cover his length before shoving the entirety of his cock in one go inside you, barely leaving enough time for your cunt to stretch correctly— and saying that a elongated moan left your lips was an euphemism, the sick grin plastered upon his face grew more and more as the sounds of pleasure drowned in his eardrums. « You’re so fucking tight, shit! » He breathed out, « Look at your pretty cunt swallowing me whole. »

The rhythm of his hips followed the scheme of a crescendo, each slam of his hips against your derrière drew a clearer portrait of both Zoro’s end and your own climax. The nature of the rhythm itself indicated that he was chasing after his own end, and with his head thrown back and his irises dilated under the hunger to satiate the raging fires breaking loose in his abdomen by the second. « S-Sir, it feels— Ah! It feels so good! »

The tip of his cock kissed ever so precisely the roof of your cervix where a panel of nerves designed to draw a lustful reaction out of you every time he thrusted into you. Your vision became more and more blurry until a liquid veil covered your eyes as pearls of tears gathered at the corners of your eyes. Under the pressure of each of Zoro’s thrusts, your body bent to his will and soon you had no longer control over your legs that used to be around his waist, only to be picked up by the swordsman who threw your legs over his shoulder, thus allowing him to reach a deeper part in you and the cries leaving your lips were just the proof of how good he made you feel.

More and more cries echoed against the wooden walls of the room, your sounds of pleasure marrying the groans falling from his lips in a cascade. « Ah, fuck, fuck! R-Right there, please! Shit…! » You pleaded to fuel him some more. His nails were digging into the luscious flesh of your thighs, drawing rouge crescents in his wake.

« Who do you belong to? » He groaned out, his eye admiring the lustful look on your face.

« Y-You! I belong to you, fuck, you a-and no one else! » You attempted to reply mid-moan.

But as much as Zoro knew your anatomy, you also happened to be an expert of his— and the way he planted his nails into your skin, the raw groans loosing their chains to be set free and the way his thighs were shaking… Everything announced the beginning of his own end.

« Cum with me… Now! » He ordered, letting his hand crash against your buttcheek in the process. And there it was, the marriage of two lovers under the spell of lust. The rhythm of his thrusts reached their apex, all whilst he painted your walls with the white color of passion. His own cum was mixing with your own elixir of pleasure leaking from your throbbing core as your cunt was clenching around his cock in despair. The sounds of his hips slamming against yours were long gone now, the room was solely filled with heavy breaths and his name falling from your lips over and over again like a forbidden prayer.

Although Zoro’s stamina knew no bounds, he felt like the oxygen had been knocked off of his lungs. But perhaps it was the price to pay if it meant he could observe you in all your post-orgasm glory after holding it inside you for so long. God, he was so proud of you, proud of every mark he had left onto your skin, proud of the way your skin gleamed under the sweat, proud of being your lover.

« ’S alright, ’s alright. I’m going to pull out, breathe. » Zoro demanded, the sweet tone reserved for you only finding its way back around his words. His digits snaked around his girth to pull out of you, only to witness the satisfying marriage of your cum and his own. You were so good to him.

And whilst you remained unable to move, Zoro fell to your side, his arms quick to lock you into an embrace as your head rested on his chest, his frenetics heartbeats echoing in your eardrums. You loved the peace of the aftermath of any sexual activity involving Zoro, you loved how peace seemed to bend his facial features in the most enticing way.

He was the first one to break the silence, pressing his lips against your forehead whilst he tugged you impossibly closer to him like a reminder that you were indeed here, and would always be. « So whose plan was this, hah? » He asked, earning a giggle out of you in response. « It was Nami’s, although Robin helped too. She said I would one hundred percent ‘get laid’ if I wore this. » You answered, head tilting towards the poor green bikini torn in pieces.

« That witch can go to hell. » Zoro groaned, but the raw tone of his voice was betrayed by the sweet caresses of his digits down your forearm.

« I mean, her plan did happen so I think it’s a win for her. It’s not like you regret what happened, mhm? » Alas, nothing but silence in return. « Zoro? » You called him, but an angel passed. « Zoro! » You repeated more sternly, and this time you were met with the sound of his snores— of course, typical Zoro fashion.

Well, you knew who you were going to thank now.

#zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro roronoa #one piece x reader #one piece smut #zoro one piece #zoro smut #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro roronoa x reader #Pirate Hunter Zoro #one piece zoro #zoro imagine #zoro one shot

431 notes · View notes

thoughts-on-bangtan · 3 years ago

Text

Let’s talk: Serendipity with a side of 4 O’Clock and other guest appearances

by Admin 1 and 2

We’ve been meaning to write a analysis/theory/discussion on Serendipity for the longest time, especially after I once mentioned in a previous post how I think the song can be interpreted in a way that works for both vmin and namjin. So, while I’ll add my thoughts in regard to the latter, the vmin portion is more based on conclusions and thoughts Admin 2 arrived at. I think their idea presents a perspective I haven’t really seen anywhere else before yet, so I think it’ll hopefully be interesting.

As with any song analysis/discussion/theories, this only represents some of our interpretations which don’t have to be right and no one is meant to take this as gospel. Art is subjective and while we all listen to the same song, read the same lyrics, our understanding and thoughts may/will vary, so you might not agree with any of what we say and you are not obliged to do so. This is just meant as a discussion, some pondering, and perhaps we can discover something along the way that we haven’t considered yet.

With that being said, let’s get into it.

Additional preface: this post will work off of the assumption that both vmin and namjin have romantic feelings for each other and/or are together. If this isn’t an angel you’re interested in reading about, this likely isn’t the post for you. Furthermore, if you’d prefer to put on your delulu hat for the duration of this post, please take a moment to put it on now. Enjoy!

All lyric translations are from doolset.

Serendipity is the opening song on Love Yourself: Her, the first album of the Love Yourself trilogy, and was released September 18th 2017. Of all the members, Namjoon is the only one credited as lyricist on it along with four other people (two outsiders, Slow Rabbit and Bang PD). Based on that we can say that Namjoon definitely had a big influence of the content of the lyrics and the story they tell so analyzing the song in the context of Namjoon makes sense. But at the same time the song is Jimin’s solo so I don’t think it is that farfetched to think that he kept Jimin in mind when writing the lyrics, and judging by how attached vmin, and especially Tae, seem to be to this song, thinking that there might be more to it than just the fact that it’s Jimin’s solo, again, seems like a sensible conclusion to arrive at. In 2020 Tae even used a moment where he recommended Serendipity (as part of the digital Map of the Soul ON:E Exhibition which, by the way, opened on Jimin’s birthday) in order to wish Jimin a happy birthday.

Serendipity /ˌsɛr(ə)nˈdɪpɪti/ as: the occurrence and development of events by chance in a happy or beneficial way.

Looking at the meaning of the title and the big focus on the concept of destiny displayed in the lyrics, I think it makes a lot of sense in the context of Bangtan. The members themselves have spoken about how it was meant to be them, these seven men, and just think about how many different factors had to work in their favor for them to end up not only as trainees for BigHit but also as members of BTS. If Seokjin hadn’t gotten on that specific bus and gotten off on that station the BigHit staff might’ve never seen him and approached him, if Tae hadn’t gone with his friend to the audition and hadn’t gotten talked into auditioning himself, he wouldn't even be an idol at all, and if Jimin’s dance teacher hadn’t encouraged him to audition he wouldn’t have come as trainee to Seoul either. And if one of the BigHit producers hadn’t seen Namjoon, hadn’t shown him to Bang PD, BTS wouldn’t have been created at all. As the lyrics themselves say:

이 모든 건 우연이 아냐 All this is not a coincidence

Timeline wise we think Serendipity is about two different moments in time depending if you look at vmin or namjin. For the latter I’d say it’s about the beginning of their relationship which, if namjinists are right in our thoughts and theories, would put this sometime 2013. Meanwhile for vmin, Admin 2 actually thinks it would be 2016, more specifically the time of the dumpling incident, so before FIRE was released. This also leads us to the main idea that Admin 2 arrived at and thought of, being that Serendipity and 4 O’Clock tell two sides to the same story, as in Tae in 4 O’Clock is the one waiting for the other person, who describes the moment in time and the feelings he had when that person came to meet him. Meanwhile Jimin is the one who came to meet him, who asks him to love him, who cried because of his feelings and who’s telling him about those feelings and thoughts (as displayed by the sentiments of Serendipity). Namjoon also wrote both, and he knew as many details of the incident as Tae was willing to share with him which, seeing how filled with emotion and deep the lyrics to 4 O’Clock are, I’m sure were rather extensive. How else would he has been able to write such beautiful lyrics?

Actually, to sidetrack for a moment, Admin 2 thinks that it’s not a coincidence that Namjoon isn’t just on 4 O’Clock was writer but also as artist, that in a way he also verbalizes his own pain/troubles through his verse even though, as far as we know, namjin never had anything that would be like the dumpling incident, but in this sense it’s more about what the incident represents rather that the literal event. As in, for vmin this was the big fight they had, a majorly significant moment that brought about a change in their dynamic and bond, and according to them it was their last big fight in general. Like a moment that was destined to happen in order to allow for them to later down the line grow into what they are today in connection to each other, but we think it was also a moment in which, while they might’ve realized and opened up to each other about their feelings, it was also when they had to realize that despite there being more to their feelings, it wasn’t the time for it.

As the lyrics in Serendipity say:

설레는 만큼 많이 두려워 As much as my heart flutters, I’m afraid

운명이 우릴 자꾸 질투해서 because the destiny keeps getting jealous of us

너만큼 나도 많이 무서워 As much scared as you are, I’m, too, scared

When you see me When you touch me

Destiny in this case represents their career and them being idols, being part of a group destined to become the phenomenon and the superstars they are today, meaning that this destiny stood in the way of their bond in a romantic sense. They had to prioritize this destiny over their feelings, over wanting to be with each other, because they were afraid of the repercussions that could otherwise bring upon them (as well as the other members). Besides, they could also look at namjin who, in a way, came before them. If theories are right and namjin were together sometimes starting in 2013, they had to eventually split romantically for the greater good of the band, so if their relationship had to take the back seat, so to speak, destiny having gotten in their way (gotten jealous of them), how could vmin know it wouldn’t be the same for them? Besides they already had so much going on with Jimin’s feelings of jealousy due to Tae’s Hwarang hyungs, Tae’s work on the drama keeping him away from the band and exhausting him even more, and the sad things still to come which they couldn’t know at that time just yet.

From Sweet Night we know that they had a first chance that Tae didn’t take, that he couldn’t have known that one day he would wake up and feel more for his best friend, as in Jimin, even though, deep down he realized that he’d long reached the shore already. So, in that park that night the conclusion they arrived at was that while they couldn’t move forward with their feelings (because perhaps Tae didn’t even know just yet the extent of his own), he realized that Jimin is an angel after he told him that he at least wants to be his source of strength which subsequently unleashed arrows of pent up emotions from his heart. So while it was a positive event in sense of it bringing clarity, to a certain degree, about their feelings for each other, it was also one of sadness because they knew they couldn’t follow those feelings. Remember how when performing 4 O’Clock Tae cried in the end? If it were a song just reminiscing about two friends making up at the park after a fight over them being stubborn about dumplings, would he really feel saddened enough to cry, to get to that level of emotionality?

Later in the song the lyrics say:

이젠 곁에 와줘 Now, please be by my side

우리가 되어줘 Please be us

I don’t wanna let go no

그냥 맡기면 되는 거야 We can just leave it to fate

말 안 해도 느껴지잖아 We can feel it even if we don’t talk

Here the important part would be the line about how they can leave things up to fate, which can be interpreted as even if things might not be what we want them to be right now or anytime soon, they will happen eventually because that’s how it’s meant to be. The lyrics generally make a lot of mention of how their love is destined, how their happiness together has been destined since the universe was first created. So it shows a sense of trust that regardless of what will happened, or might’ve happened in the past, they will find their way back together eventually (in a romantic sense). Like, again, in Sweet Night where Tae didn’t use his first chance but hopes he’ll get a second one and, judging by the hopeful tone of the song and everything that we know currently, it looks like he got it and it worked out in their favor. The same, I think, can also be said about namjin.

Looking at the lyrics of Serendipity, the idea of them being fated even though their meeting was serendipitous, Namjoon is basically telling us that here, too, he believes that his connection to Seokjin, if we are correct in the interpretation that Seokjin is the lover hinted at throughout different songs on the Love Yourself albums, was also meant to be and that it will remain as such even if they had to step away from each other romantically, that while they used to be scared back in the day to be together, to open up to each other about their feelings, it still was destiny and that it would work out in the end. Looking at how much they’ve influenced each other, how Namjoon even went as far as saying that Seokjin is his muse/inspiration in a way, would such conclusion really be all that farfetched?

The first line of the quoted verse also reminds me of the same sentiment that Jimin wrote about three years later for Friends in which he wrote:

언젠가 이 함성 멎을 때 stay hey Someday, when these cheers die down, stay hey

내 옆에 함께 있어줘 Stay with me by my side

영원히 계속 이곳에 stay hey Forever, keep staying here, hey

We know that forever/eternity is a big thing when it comes to Jimin and Tae which we’ve seen as early as 2014 with the picture of their intertwined hands that Tae posted on twt with the wish of them keeping going together for a long time and then with Jimin’s addition of saying forever. Later during Bon Voyage 4 he also said that again, how he wants to live with his lovely Taehyungie forever, and years before that how he wants them to be together until they’re grandpas.

So, in a way, it isn’t just destiny they trust that will be in their favor, but it’s also their active wish and “work” in that direction, that it’s not just something a higher force has foreseen for them but it’s also something they consciously want for themselves as well. All because of that serendipitous fact that they ended up as trainees and members of BTS.

넌 내 푸른 곰팡이 You’re my blue mold (penicillin)

날 구원해 준 that saved me

나의 천사 나의 세상 My angel, my world

Here is where we can draw two connection directly to Tae and Jimin, one because of something Jimin said about Tae years prior and the other due to the fact that as recently as the second half as 2020 (DICON Magazine) Tae said he had Jimin saved on his phone as Penicillin. We also know that after the song came out, Tae made a phone case for Jimin with the word penicillin on it which Jimin proudly used and showed off.

Furthermore penicillin itself is something that can save you, and while we might not know from what, exactly, Jimin needed to be saved, he did say that Tae is more than just his close friend, he is also his savior.

As for Namjoon, there was certainly a time where he would’ve needed someone to save him, from himself and his dark, less than life positive, thoughts (as displayed by the lyrics in Always) but also the world around them back in 2015/16 where he was seen as the worst of the worst for things he’d said that had been purposefully misconstrued and misunderstood, as well as lyrics he’d written which, again, where taken to mean things much different from what he actually tried to say. While there is nothing I can use or base any assumptions on that Seokjin would be the one/was the one who saved him, contextually, I don’t think it would be farfetched that he did help him and was there for him during that time, much the way the other members surely were too. Based on what we know about Abyss and the background of that song, we know Namjoon helped Seokjin in some ways with it, so if Seokjin came to him and spoke to him about the hard time he was having in 2020, it isn’t that out there to think that Namjoon might’ve done the same back in 2015/16, and during other times between when they first met until Namjoon wrote these lyrics, right?

난 네 삼색 고양이 I’m your calico cat

널 만나러 온 that came to meet you

Love me now touch me now

Calico cats are very rare, and usually you’ll only find female calico cats, meaning that male ones are even more rare than that. Looking at Namjoon as a person, I’d say he is a very rare type of person as well, I mean, how many teenage underground rappers turned idol group leaders who might also be queer and is also a literal genius do you know off the top of your head? Furthermore calico cats are seen as lucky cats in many cultures and places so in this sense Namjoon/Jimin would represent something lucky/positive that came to their partner which, if we again look at things that were said over the years, Jimin did say that Tae is the happiest when he’s with Jimin.

As for Namjoon and Seokjin, this could be connected to the fact that Seokjin was thankful that Namjoon is on their team, their ally, instead of someone from another group, thus seeing it as luck that they are together (Rolling Paper FESTA 2020), like he is their good luck charm that played a major role in them getting to where they are, so to speak. And yes I’m aware that he said that three years after the song was released but it wasn’t the first or only time he ever voiced such sentiment. Seokjin has underlined how much he admires Namjoon’s abilities as leader and lyricist many, many times over the years.

“Our leader, RM. This guy is amazing. There are 2 more older guys than him, yet he is great as leader. I want to thank our leader personally.” -- Seokjin as a concert which, judging by their hairstyles (and the use of Namjoon’s old artist name) must’ve been some time around Dark & Wild perhaps?

As a side note, the mention of calico cats reminds me of a picture Seokjin posted for Namjoon’s birthday in 2019 (so two years after Serendipity had already come out) in which Namjoon is seen asleep while sitting and hugging a calico cat plushy. You’ll recognize both the plushy and the ARMY B*mb hat as part of the VCRs for 4th Muster in 2018. So I’m mentioning this as more of a cute thing rather than some kind of definitive sign of any sort really. By the way, that same cat plushy can also be seen when Tae lies sleeping and Jimin sits next to him singing the calico cat line and places the plushy on Tae.

But, what I think is, for me at least, the biggest hint toward Serendipity being, to a degree at least, about/inspired by vmin is the fact that early in 2017, February more specifically, Jimin and Tae both called each other their soulmates during one of their fansigns. And what are soulmates if not two people destined to meet and be with each other, two people quite literally meant for each other? And here Jimin is singing a song about how his love for this person and his happiness with them was fated, that destiny had this planned for them regardless how scared they may be and how destiny (outside factors) might be jealous of them (keep getting in their way).

Furthermore, isn’t it curious how this song, specifically, is written as gender neutral instead of with female pronouns like their songs in the past or even Outro: Her off the same album? Yes, Namjoon explained in their interview with Billoard that this decision was one he made because these rare moments and special things in life are something that transcend genders, cultures and barriers between people, and love is also something that doesn’t care about genders, in this case love and destiny don’t care about the fact that they are all the same gender because they are fated anyway, they are soulmates, each others fated person, and their happiness is meant to be in one way or another. Together.

#vmin #namjin #song discussion #serendipity #4 o'clock #Jimin #Taehyung #Namjoon #Seokjin

74 notes · View notes

verryberriess · 3 years ago

Text

Whatever This Is | Chapter 1

READ PROLOGUE HERE!!

Whatever This Is

Synopsis: In which Jude and Cardan meet again after seven years, but not on good terms.

thanks to @maastrash for helping me edit LOL!!!! :D

CHAPTER ONE

The last time I saw Cardan Greenbriar was seven years ago.

Today, seven years later, we were a mere few feet apart. I’m unsure whether to feel relieved or insulted at his lack of acknowledgement. Relieved that maybe he has forgotten my face and I could continue along with my life, undeterred and unaffected as ever. But insulted, because, maybe he has forgotten me.

“Are you ready to order?” The cashier startles me. I didn’t realize that the line had suddenly quickened in pace. He must be new, since I haven’t seen him around the Torre’s until today.

Thankfully, I respond with my usual order without thinking. The cashier nods and I fumble my purse in search of my wallet. I’m able to quickly spot my cyan-colored wallet and unbutton its strap with haste, fishing for my credit card from the compartment with my nail. The card is stubborn, in a tight space stuck to two other cards.

“Sorry,” I look up and flash the cashier a tight smile, embarrassment coloring my features.

The cashier responds in turn, his green eyes alight in amusement. “It’s alright. That happens to me all the time.”

I immediately return to the war against my card, which finally relents. I slam it into the card reader, chip in first. While the payment approves, I smile and say, “Thanks for your patience,“ peering down at his name tag to add, “Beckett.” He is handsome and new, and on another day I would try to get to know him, but I am in a hurry, so I walk from the bounds of the register and head straight towards the door outside.

The door swings open in response to my adrenaline and haste. I curse inwardly at the crowd outside of Torre’s that seems to have gotten even bigger. As I mutter “Excuse me’s” and sidestep around the large number of people, I inspect the streets for an absurdly tall head of iridescent midnight hair. I am quickly astonished to see that exact head right in the middle of the large crowd, showering the thrall of excited women with a crooked smile.

Cardan stands in the middle. While he keeps his hands at his sides, his posture is loose and his torso leans in to angle himself for a selfie with another woman. The woman presses her back into Cardan’s again. He doesn’t seem bothered by this at all.

I zero in on the changes in his features. He has gotten taller, his face more angular. His style has been perfected, dressed in a dark suit and decorated in gold rings and darks and blacks while the midnight black hair atop his head seems unruly and untamed, as if on purpose. All these years and he seems to have perfected perfection, looking more horrifically beautiful than ever. I have forgotten this obtrusive charm I had once been fooled by, and even after all these years I am disgusted at myself for still being reigned in, captivated.

But all of a sudden, for a few seconds, he turns his head away from his surroundings and regards me with his eyes, looking as if he were noting my presence with the same disgust, and then quickly looking away. The exchange was so quick, I had barely registered it.

Yet, as I stand at the outskirts of this group, I am reminded of the past, and how I have gotten over this already. I have replayed scenario after scenario of reunions in my head after the first few months of my departure, but I had never really anticipated some overly-large crowd separating Cardan Greenbriar and I by just a few feet.

A few feet that might as well be an ocean. Or two.

I can’t help but marvel at how we were once more than acquainted with each other. That look had reminded me that everything is over, that he wants nothing to do with me. Seven years could be more, if I refocused myself. I could do that, I reminded myself. Seven years could turn into forever.

A twinge of sorrow worms its way into my gut. I squash it.

I turn around. My coffee must be done by now and I want to head to work before I’m late. I suppose the sidewalk will take some weaving around and being late was not on my agenda.

My steps are forward. I make my way back to the door of Torre’s, pulling open the door to step in.

But a familiar voice, ringed with the same distinct tone of arrogance and authority that I haven’t heard in years, ceases any of my movements.

“You need to back up.”

My grip at the handle falters, and another person shuffles out on the other side. They thank me for holding the door for them.

Instead of responding, I turn back around and face the direction of where the voice had called. The atmosphere feels almost different. Where the women had once been gathered around him, they now stand at a distance, clearing for the space he had requested.

I watch one of them snap a quick selfie while he is in her background. She leaves the group right afterwards. My eyes move back to where Cardan is, but he is walking towards my direction, uncaring of the people around him.

I pull the door handle hurriedly and slip inside into the safety of Torre’s. The chatter and ambiance of the coffeehouse usually offer safe haven from San Francisco’s morning bustles, but not today.

I could feel his looming presence right behind me, about to catch up to my stride. I’m not about to do this right now. I don’t think I can.

The choice is ripped away from me, however, when a gentle grip takes hold of my wrist.

“Jude?” The voice is soft, a complete one-eighty from that of authority outside.

I still immediately. I first turn to check the surroundings, discovering that none of the women from outside have followed him in. Then, I glance at the hand which still grips my wrist. I try to shake it off. Cardan’s hold is firm, but he reluctantly lets go. He removes himself slowly as if he is unsure whether or not he should.

Taking a step away, he stands and shifts awkwardly. He is too tall now, absurdly towering over me. Where he used to be only about an inch taller, he is now a few inches above my height. He is no longer able to slouch against me without adjusting himself as easily anymore.

The distance between us is off-putting. Though traits like his height and broadness separate us physically from our past selves, it is the other changes in our approaches and personalities that further highlight the obnoxious tension between us.

Why he suddenly acknowledges my presence is a mystery to me. Why he is here astonishes me. I am unsure if fate is cruel enough to have forced us to meet in this kind of circumstance, or if this was a making of pure coincidence.

Cardan stares at me with some deep intensity. I want to be rid of his scathing stare, grab my coffee, and disappear from this whole ordeal. Pretend that this stain of an encounter had not been inked upon seven years of spotless script.

“Cardan,” I say stiffly. Once acquainted, but now strangers. I am hesitant to say more, despite all the questions that rage within my mind and my wickedly cursed heart. Everything about this is full of uncertainty and unpredictability. A type of situation that I am not entirely familiarized with, since plans and strategy have always ruled my life. It is frustratingly tiresome.

Cardan eyes the row of occupied couches, and later the arrangement of empty rustic tables and chairs. He gestures out to the seats, “Why don’t we find a seat? I imagine that we have much to catch up on.”

I secretly consider his offer, but my brain votes to think of ways to escape his reach. Before I can make a decision though, I am led away to an open table. I am reluctant to make this encounter any longer than it should be, but I decide that I should at least gain some reasoning for his recent presence.

“I’m glad you’re so eager to see me again. After all, it’s been so long.” Cardan resumes his usual nonchalant character. “What an extraordinary coincidence running into you here.”

For a moment, I remark on his wording. I am glad that this turned out to be an occasion of pure coincidence.

Concern or indifference? I decided on the latter tone to respond with. “Yes, it certainly has been a while. But considering how we left things, I’m surprised that you even want to be near me.”

He raises an eyebrow and the corners of his mouth lift slightly. “Considering how we’ve left things, I’m surprised you’ve let me into your vicinity.” It doesn’t look like it, but the small twinges in expression reveal that he is thinking of what to say next. I am about to retort back, but what he asks next catches me off guard as he continues, softly, “Why did you leave for so long?”

My cheeks heat. At this, I am suddenly hyper aware of how close he is, of his overwhelming heat despite the violent cold that rages outside, and how he almost whispers his question, with a compelling mix of rasp and seduction. He towers over me, as if using his height to shield me from the world like he has done so many times those years ago, but in this instance, it feels as though he is also looking for something. Cardan is cautious though, leaving room for retreat.

If I am not careful myself, I imagine that I would fall into his chest, and take advantage of the closeness that I had secretly yearned for nearly a decade. Seven years be damned, my focused mentality would dissolve into dust.

I announce my resolve by taking a step back. The distance between him and I is lengthened. Although my heart curses at me, my mind is indiscriminate. I hadn’t expected this conversation to go about this way. Though, I also didn’t know what to expect. Everything was unpredictable at this point and many things have changed. I didn’t know what response he wanted, because he should’ve known why I left.

“... Because of you.” I say gruffly. I leave little context, wanting him to fill in the blanks.

For a second, a mixture of hurt and surprise leaks into his expression before it is masked again. In that second I can’t help but relish in a small sense of satisfaction that I had got to him. Hurt for hurt. An eye for an eye. Whatever game he is trying to play at this time will not rouse a fraction of feeling from me. Not again.

“I see.” Again, Cardan contemplates. He does not show anything, but his eyes start to roam around us, like he is taking in the coffeehouse setting again as if he wasn’t just here only a few moments ago.

“Excuse me?” The green-eyed cashier from before stands in front of us.

He looks between Cardan and I. Cardan, in turn, twists to the direction of the abrupt voice, and slowly assesses his form. I watch his eyes trail up and down the cashier’s physique, his face contorting in judgement before glaring at him, clearly annoyed by his abrupt intrusion.

Beckett turns to me instead, smiling brightly. His dimples deepen and his white teeth flash to me. He holds out a branded cup of Torre’s. “Hey, Jude right? We called out your name earlier, but I don’t think you heard us. I thought I’d bring your coffee to you before it got cold.”

“Thanks so much, I almost forgot.” I take the cup from him and gently set it down at our table.

“Of course.” Beckett still hovers over us, his attention only towards me. “Andrea told me you were a regular here. I should have known.”

“Yes, I come here often. But it’s okay, I noticed that you’re new here too. And it’s Beckett right?” I ask.

Beckett replies, “Yeah, it’s actually my second day.”

Beckett hovers over us. I notice that he is handsome, with close-cropped blonde hair that is slightly grown out. His green eyes twinkle as he observes me in return. He is well-muscled and tan from what I could see of his arms, which are mostly covered by his gray, long-sleeved uniform.

I take a quick glance at Cardan. His fingers tap the tabletop in a particular rhythm as he watches the exchange between Beckett and I.

“Well, I better get back to work now. If you need anything else, check your cup.” Beckett smiles again and walks away.

I look back at the coffee cup and peer at Cardan who eyes its side, a murderous expression set upon his facial features. His eyes are cold and his jaw is clenched.

As I take the cup in my hands, I inspect the sticker attached to the side of the cup. A phone number written in scrawly blue ink is scribbled onto the light orange sticker.

“I didn’t realize hand-serving customers was a part of the job description.” Cardan remarks icily.

“Well,” I clear my throat. “At least he’s done something you didn't have the balls to do seven years ago.”

A/N: i haven't been here in a while... hello! let me know if you want to be put on the tag list lOL

#jurdan #jurdan fanfiction #jurdan fanfic #judexcardan #judeduarte #cardan greenbriar #the cruel prince #the folk of the air #tfota fanfic #tfota #verryberriess #jude x cardan #twk #tcp fic

61 notes · View notes

mrsgiovanna · 4 years ago

Text

The Beguiling (Hades! Don Giorno x Persephone! Fem! Reader)

This concept has been on my mind for the longest time. This is loosely based off the lore of Hades and Persephone, set in a modern mafia AU, with Giorno as Hades and the reader as Persephone. 🥺💖🐞

TW: Kidnapping, yandere themes, manipulative behaviour, disordered relationship dynamics

Word count : 6.3k

“The truth of the matter I believe to be this. There is, as I stated at first, no absolute right or wrong in love, but everything depends upon the circumstances, to yield to a bad man in a bad way is wrong, but to yield to a worthy man in a right way is right.”

- Plato, Symposium

Being the Don of a mafia is a difficult task, being so far removed from everyone and everything else. Some would even say, its like being part of an entirely different realm…

Extremely beautiful but entirely unapproachable, Giorno didn’t appear in public very often, the burden of running the organization had brought many threats to his safety. Granted, he was able to thwart any plan to even remotely harm him, but one doesn’t have time for such annoyances when you wield as much power as he did. Taking over something so big at such a young age changes a person, and Giorno was no different, he was always seen as aloof and calculating, but there were other dimensions to his character that he was painfully aware of, but would not reveal to anyone else… yet.

“Don Giovanna, are you ready to go? The driver is ready for us,” his consigliere spoke in an even, respectful tone while addressing his don.

“Yes, we can leave, have you informed Fugo of the change in our plans?” Giorno’s voice was monotonous, soft and polite, but conveyed no emotion. The task at hand today was not a pleasant one… he hated having to deal with defectors and had avoided it up until this point. This case was different… the defector in question was your brother. You had always held a special place in his heart ever since he encountered you upon taking over Passione. You were always kind towards him, and all your conversations had brought about a sense of peace within himself. Nonetheless, he dismissed it as a simple juvenile crush, and continued with his mammoth task of remolding the diseased organization, excising the ‘tumors’ to allow for a healthier, better, stronger Passione to emerge. Sacrificing his youth, his personal life and precious friends in order to attain his dream, he was not going to let anyone destroy everything he had worked so hard to create.

As the years went on, there were many times that your path had unwittingly crossed with the young don’s which only intensified his feelings for you, but given the nature of his lifestyle, he tried to convince himself that loving you from afar would be good enough, but Giorno’s resolve- unshakeable in every other scenario- was quickly waning in this regard.

Meeting with your father was painful, his demeanor reminding Giorno of a shadowed figure from his past who had changed his life forever.

“He’ll have to be dealt with, you understand this, correct?”

“I’m aware of this, Don Giovanna. I… I’m willing to take any punishment you see fit… please keep my daughter out of this… I can stake my life on her innocence in all of this,” your father spoke emphatically, desperate to protect you, appealing to the don’s humanity. Giorno furrowed his eyebrows, surely your father knew he wouldn’t harm you in any way- was it normal for people to be this terrified of him? The sharp slam of a door and a greeting from a honeyed voice snapped Giorno from his thoughts.

“I’m home, I hope you’re hungry, I’m making octopus salad, squid ink risotto and I’ve got chocolate fondants for dessert… oh goodness! Don Giovanna- I’m sorry… I, um…” you stuttered embarrassingly as your gaze landed on the blonde’s handsome face and shifted to the ground immediately. Before Giorno could answer you to try and quell your discomfort, your father interjected, sending you away from the room. The young don was completely awestruck by your ethereal beauty, as if you had been crafted by the gods themselves, descended to create joy in an otherwise dull world. He made a silent promise to himself- he had to have you as his own.

“(Y/n), please give us a moment piccolina, I’ll come to you as soon as we have concluded our meeting,”

“Of course, please pardon my interruption,” with a small nod of your head, you took your leave, wanting to start making the dishes you had just rattled off. As you busied yourself with your preparations, your mind kept returning to Giorno, he was always calm and pleasant, but you hadn’t seen him with that kind of expression before. The fact that you hadn’t seen your brother in days didn’t bode well with today’s events… you hoped he was okay, but you experienced first-hand how aggressive he could be, something, you were told, he had shared with your mother. You didn’t have much of a relationship with her as her job had taken her away from the family a bit too much. You understood now that you were a young adult, but your emotions still vacillated between acceptance and resentment when you observed the families of your friends.

“You know… because of the difference in our ages, you’ve always told me that you cared for me as a father would care for a son, as a result, our relationship has always been cordial… its allowed us to speak frankly as we have always done in the past,”

“Yes, Don Giovanna… this is true.”

“Please, I’ve told you many times before, call me Giorno…”

“Alright… Giorno,”

“Good, good, see? That sounds better already. As I was saying before, if your affections for me run that deep… accept me as a son-in-law and allow me to marry (y/n) and you will never have to worry about her safety again. Nobody would ever think to harm her if they have to contend with me first,”

“What? Are you asking for permission to marry my daughter? I don’t think she has even considered something like that… you’ve barely spoken to each other…” your father was battling to make sense of Giorno’s request, if one could even call it a request.

“I don’t think you understand the situation you’re in… your son has singlehandedly created a colossal mess; we’d be in the middle of a turf war if it wasn’t for the quick thinking of my consigliere. That’s not to say other people wouldn’t want to exact their own personal brand of justice. I can guarantee you though, if she’s under my care, none of those things will ever reach her.” Just as the consigliere was about to speak, perhaps, an attempt to rationalize with the don, a sharp sideward glance from the latter had left all suggestions unspoken. The silence in the room was palpable… uncomfortable, until it was broken by Giorno.

“I’ve loved (y/n) for as long as I’ve known her, the best place for her would be with me, my strength is unparalleled… this is probably a lot to take in right now, I’ll allow you some time to come around to the idea, I’d hate to have to take her by force, but, if that’s what it will take…”

“Are you threatening me Don Giovanna?” asked your father with a restrained bite to his voice.

“Of course not, I’m merely making my intentions clear, my reach spans well beyond anything you could ever imagine… well, I’ve said all I need to in this instance. I’ll be back for her in three days, I trust you’ll be able comply with my suggestion. I’ll be taking my leave now.” With a flourish of his cerulean blue coat, Giorno and his consigliere left your home. Your father cursed his position, but there was little he could do about it. Finding you blissfully tinkering in the kitchen, his heart broke, knowing already that this was one of the last times he would be seeing you like this… or at all.

“You don’t agree with what I’m doing, do you, Lorenzo? You know I’m good at reading people, although you’re not even trying to mask your disdain,” asked Giorno, breaking the silence on the drive home.

“Well, if I’m allowed to speak freely, I don’t think you’re going about this in the right manner. She’s going to be terrified and resentful because you’re effectively abducting her, so in brief, I don’t agree with this at all,”

“Fair enough, and for the record, obviously I’m aware that she’s going to hate me… at first anyway, but she’ll come to understand eventually. Anyway, what’s done is done, in three days, I’ll be bringing home my goddess.” Giorno turned his attention to his phone and with that Lorenzo had backed off, knowing from years of serving Giorno that there was no talking to him when he resolved to do something.

“Father, you’re so quiet… did something happen?” you asked, part of you not wanting to know the answer to that question.

“It’s a mess, but don’t worry about that, I’ll handle it. There is something that I have to speak to you about though… it’s about Don Giovanna, he would like to see you in a few days, nothing serious, just be sure to keep your schedule open for the day,” your father explained, only divulging half the truth of your situation.

“He wants to see me? Do you know why? Have I done something wrong?” you were curious as to what Giorno could possible want with you.

“Of course not dolcezza, he just wants to have a chat with you, I think he’s just making sure that you’re alright… that’s part of why he was here today.

“Oh, alright, I’ll be available. Anyway, dinner’s ready, once you get washed up, we can eat,” you glanced up at your father to see his face contorted in grief. “What’s the matter? I know you don’t like talking about things that have to do with your occupation, but you’ve been like this ever since Don Giovanna left,”

Being too much for him to bear, he pulled you into a vicelike embrace, almost as if you would disappear if he let you go, which was not entirely false. “Aww, it’s okay dad, everything will be fine, come on, the food’s getting cold, you need to eat,” with that, you both ate in a comfortable silence as you always did, before you both retired for the evening.

While you tried to prepare yourself for your “meeting”, your soon to be captor was busy creating your sanctuary, or rather, overseeing the creation of your sanctuary- there was no reason why your surroundings couldn’t be as beautiful as you were, his aim after all was to get you to fall in love with him. Large, glittering mirrors with gilded frames adorned the walls of the hallways that lead to your room. Inside, was everything one could ever hope to have; an extensive closet filled with things that were made especially for you, various trinkets and baubles carefully selected for you, state of the art electronic devices, albeit with restrictions on the amount of things you could access… just for the time being though. If you were to start off as a bird in a cage, it should be a bejeweled cage worthy of a rarity like you.

As it got closer to the time you’d be seeing Giorno, your nerves started increasing exponentially, you knew that under normal circumstances, having to meet with someone like him without knowing what the subject matter would be was intimidating, but this feeling was something else altogether. As if something in your gut was telling you to cancel- to run- but you dismissed those feelings, and prepared yourself for the engagement.

“Buonasera cara, you look especially charming this evening…” he greeted you with a velvety voice that masked the true nature of him being there.

“Buonasera Don Giovanna, thank you for the compliment,”

“Shall we leave, (y/n)?”

“Um, okay… I just need to fetch my things and let my father know that I’m leaving…”

“Alright, perfect, actually, would you mind if I followed you? I’d like a quick word with him before we leave,” his expression was so charismatic, you felt guilty for not inviting him inside immediately.

“Of course, I’m sorry, please do come in.” you say as you stepped aside to make room for Giorno to enter. You lead him to the study and went to fetch your coat and purse to go, giving yourself a onceover in the mirror to make sure you were presentable and with that you kissed your father on the cheek and left.

The restaurant that you and Giorno went to was completely empty except for a single table set up for you both and the staff that were going to serve you, you found it odd, but dismissed it as one of the nuances of leading a mafia, privacy was of utmost importance. Ever the gentleman, the young don pulled out your chair for you and seated himself across from you.

“Thank you for agreeing to see me (y/n), I appreciate you taking the time to do so,”

“Of course, although I have to admit, I’m a little confused as to why I’m here,” you say with a nervous titter. The waiter brought a bottle of wine to the table, probably preapproved by Giorno already, and with a small nod, it is poured out into the awaiting glasses for the two of you.

“You will understand soon enough cara, come, lets toast to something… ah! To new beginnings…” he suggested with a sardonic smile.

“New beginnings? Okay… to new beginnings, salute!” with a confused smile and a delicate clink of your glasses you both took a sip of your wine. As the night went on, you were having a wonderful time, however, it seemed like your alcohol was getting to you faster than usual.

“Are you alright, cara, you look a bit out of sorts, come, I’ll take you home,”

“Thanks Don, I… I’m sorry I don’t know-” before completing the rest of your sentence, your consciousness faded and you fell into a strong pair of arms. Giorno sat you back down and made a quick call to his driver before picking you up again and placing you in the awaiting car to take you to your new home. As he gazed lovingly upon your face, he knew that the road is going to be a tedious one, but you would love him one day.

Your head pounded incessantly as you tried to open your eyes. The sensations on your skin were unfamiliar- soft, silken, so inviting, lulling you back into the deep slumber you were trying to break. Was this a dream? Your eyes finally opened to an unfamiliar room, you gathered the courage to sit up in bed, still unsure if you were in a dream or not and tried to rub the sleep out of your eyes. Looking around the room, feeling a sense of panic enveloping your very existence, you ran towards the large, ornately carved door to try and leave the room, but it was locked. The windows, it seemed, were crafted from reinforced glass as they would not break regardless of what was thrown at them. Left with only one option, you began to cry out for help, surely someone would be there, it was too well kept to be an abandoned building.

Listening to the commotion from outside the room were the guards and servants tasked with making sure your requests were fulfilled, but more importantly, they needed to ensure you were safe and didn’t escape. Giorno had a way with people, a charisma that both scared and enchanted those around him. Disobedience was not even a fleeting option for those who served him, partly out of fear, but mostly out of devotion to the young don. Giving each other a knowing glance, your guard decided to call his boss to come and subdue you before you had hurt yourself.

Your throat felt raw from the shouting and hyperventilating, your skin shimmered, veiled in a thin layer of sweat and your eyes shifted this way and that, trying to spot something you could exploit to leave the room while your captor was away. It dawned on you that as terrifying as it was to be in that place, it would be even worse if you had to face whoever was holding you there, choosing rather to contend with the fear of the unknown, than putting a face to your jailor. As if even thinking of something willed it into existence, your worst nightmare materialized as you heard the door being unlocked.

“Tesoro… please stop, you’re hurting yourself,” your eyes widened when you heard the velvety voice addressing you with such tenderness.

“Don… Giovanna? Where am I? What are you doing here? Please, I need to go home, I don’t know who brought me here…” you could barely articulate yourself with your shaky voice.

“I know that you’re extremely scared and confused… there’s so much I need to explain to you… but please, first, let me look at your hands, you are hurt, I can take care of that,” it was only after he spoke that you saw the bruises blooming on the delicate skin of your hands and arms. You still stayed rooted to where you were, but Giorno inched closer, materializing GE to heal your injuries. His heart stung when you silently grimaced at the pain of his ability rejoining the blood vessels that had broken, but he hated seeing your beautiful skin being marred like that.

“Don…”

“Please, call me Giorno…”

“Okay… Giorno… can we go now? I need to go home, if we stay any longer the people who put me here might come back or send others, I…”

“Tesoro… this is your home now… the person who brought you here was me… what is the last thing you remember from yesterday?” The young don circled around you and sat you down next to him at the foot of the bed.

“Why? Why did you bring me here? Are you insane? I can’t stay here, I… don’t understand what the hell is going on! I need to call my father,” seeing you start to get agitated again, Giorno pulled out his phone and motioned for you to take it.

“Here, call him, he has already agreed to this arrangement. You’re not safe my love, I’m sure you know about the recent transgressions courtesy of your cretin of a brother. People are angry and want revenge, and unfortunately you’re in the direct line of fire. So it was decided that you would come and live with me, you’ll find all your belongings here already, mixed with things that I believe you would like. I will give you anything your heart desires, lavish you with all the love and attention I can. All you need to do is stay here… near me… nobody can challenge me…”

You heard the words, but nothing was making sense to you. You decided to take up your captor’s offer to speak to your father, who confirmed his entire story. Feeling dejected, empty and completely alone, you sank to the floor as violent sobs wracked your body. Seeing you in this state filled Giorno with dread as he lifted you off the lushly carpeted floor, but he knew he would be able to get you to love him eventually. This was this the initial shock; he was willing to wait for you to acclimate to your surroundings.

Thus began your life of isolation… your routine, if you could even call it that, consisted of waking up in your palatial room, begrudgingly having breakfast with your green-eyed abductor and sulking around for the rest of the day. Giorno put a lot of effort into making sure that you were comfortable and tried to interact with you as much as his schedule would allow him to. Initially, all of his attempts to speak to you were ignored, you wondered if the awkward silence even bothered him at all, but he always had a peaceful expression on his face. If nothing else, he was very patient with you, and at times you tested his patience on purpose, goading him to anger, in those times though, he simply left you alone in your room, not allowing you to leave for a few days, instructing your handlers to confiscate your electronics, not even offering you a sliver of human contact… you needed to think about why you were in that position after all, so there could be no distractions whatsoever. Those isolation periods would thankfully not last long enough to tip you over the edge though, and like a ray of sunshine after a storm, he’d come to unlock your doors and add color back into your world. You always were more affectionate towards him after a few days on your own, which, you reasoned, was due to the lack of any interaction at all as opposed to having any genuine feelings towards him. Giorno wasn’t picky though, he accepted your gentle touches and embraces all the same, one day… soon… you would undertake those gestures solely on your desire to do so.

Surely enough, as the days turned into weeks and the weeks into months, you had warmed up to him, settling into an oddly satisfying domestic life with the don. The more of yourself you gave to him, the wider your world had gotten, until you eventually had free reign over the entire estate. You soon had come to realize that if you had just played your part, and listened to him, complied with his simple requests, his kindness towards you was limitless. Giorno had remained as attentive as ever, picking up on every little change on you from the subtle change in the color of your blush to the miniscule changes in the length of your hair after its trimmed, nothing escaped his well trained eye. He beamed when you started to wear the clothes and jewels he bought for you, seeing it as a sign that you were slowly starting to accept him. The truth of the situation was that you had, against your better judgement, fallen in love with this living deity.

“Giorno… the weather’s warming up quite beautifully, why don’t we train outdoors from now on instead of working out inside?” you suggested while you kneeled on the bed behind a seated Giorno as you undid his elaborate hairstyle and brushed out the product from his hair before he took a shower.

“Hmmm… alright bella, I suppose we could do that, I’m sure the fresh air would do us both some good,” as he got up, he bent down to place a chaste kiss on your forehead before heading into the shower. For a fleeting moment, you thought about your old life, you had earned back the liberty to speak to your family, well, your father, and some friends, but the fractured relationships weren’t the same. Pushing those negative feelings to the back of your mind, you waited for Giorno so that you could both go to sleep, but your heavy eyelids fell shut. His patience with you was never more evident than in these moments, never once overstepping your boundaries or initiating intimacy that would make you feel uncomfortable. Emerging to see your sleeping form, he pulled up the covers around you and climbed into the other side of the bed, facing you, he clutched your hands in his, allowing himself to close his eyes as well.

“We’ve managed to locate her… you aren’t going to like this though,”

“Just tell me where my daughter is, I’ll decide the rest,” your mother spoke bluntly to her partner.

“She’s living with some mafia boss; I think he’s her boyfriend or something. You never see her out on her own, she’s always with him. I’ve got people watching your husband’s house, she’s only been there once, with the cocky bastard in tow. The security at his place is insane, worst of all, we think he’s a stand user,”

“Stand user? Don’t make me laugh, that means nothing, we’re stand users too, every ability has a weakness that can be exploited,” your mother lit a cigarette and took a long drag, musing on what her first move should be. After a moment of contemplation, she had her sights set on her old marital home, deciding that your father would be able to provide the most complete description of what is going on. She portrayed a nonchalant exterior, but your mother was very worried for your safety. She had a powerful stand of her own, in fact all the members of your family were powerful stand users- except you. Your mother worked closely with a foreign organization dedicated to studying supernatural phenomena as such, most of her time was divided between her travels on behalf of the organization and work that she would need to do onsite at their headquarters in Washington. Over her lifetime, she’s found herself in many precarious positions, so she decided it would be safer if she stayed away from the family in an attempt to keep everyone safe… upon hindsight, that was a fatal miscalculation. To describe her mood after speaking to your father as livid, would be an understatement.

Not wasting a moment, your mother called her associate and made her way to the don’s villa, hell-bent on taking you back from his dark clutches.

“Bella, are you ready to go?” Giorno called to you as he pulled on his coat while you put on your last accessory. You never turned down an opportunity to go out, even though your outings became slightly more frequent, you were completely captivated by discovering the different facets to Giorno’s personality. As much as he was fervently observing you and curating an ideal world tailored to you, you were learning a lot about him and the circumstances that fashioned him in this manner.

“Yes tesoro, sorry for keeping you waiting… what is it?” you were met by a wide-eyed Giorno, and it hit you… Tesoro… the name trickled so effortlessly off your lips, “I’m sorry, I wasn’t really thinking…”

“Don’t apologize amore, as long as it’s you, I don’t mind…” he softly replied, as he stroked your cheek with the back of his forefinger. You heard a faint clatter accompanied by the ring of Giorno’s phone, informing him that there had been a security breach. The soft expression on his face was gone, as he gripped you with a protective arm.

Before you had time to ask him what was going on, you heard your name being called out by a voice you barely remembered, one you didn’t think you’d hear again.

“Mother?” your voice was a whisper. Your mother looked at you, disdain skewing her features before turning her attention to Giorno, whose grip continued to tighten around you.

“(y/n), I’ve come to take you away from here, it’s obvious leaving you in the care of your father was a mistake. And you, step away from her this instant, you will regret it if you don’t,”

You hadn’t noticed the swarm of black suits that had surrounded you all, ready to pounce at Giorno’s command. His intense gaze had not left your face while your mother spoke, searching for the slightest tell indicating you might have known about this, but you were just as perplexed as he was… the guilt of him doubting you twisting his features even further.

“It’s alright, stand down men… while you really have a nerve of breaking into my property, I feel that this can be solved amicably, I’d hate for (y/n) to have to contend with any discord between us,” he spoke with a calm, even voice but that didn’t match the fury brewing in his eyes.

“Amicable? You take my daughter away from her home and you still feel like this is something that can be talked out of? You really are a piece of work!”

“Better to be the overbearing lover than the neglectful mother…” Giorno’s tone was dripping with cynicism as he handed you to one of your awaiting guards.

“You sick bastard!” your mother cried out. As if being pushed back by a glowing force that you couldn’t quite discern, the young don was thrown backwards. You hated feeling so powerless. Giorno sat up and smiled mockingly, before launching into an attack of his own you assumed, as you saw a similar golden glow envelop his body, and the bodies of the security personnel backing him up.

“Please, stop it! All of you!” you wanted to run out between them but you were restrained by your guard. It didn’t take long for Giorno and his men to restrain your mother and her associate, taking care to leave them largely unharmed while you were still present. Giorno had made one fatal error though… blame it on overconfidence or his need to constantly check on you, he had turned away and left himself wide open for a last ditch attack from your mother as she broke free. At that very moment, your body moved itself before you could even think, and faster than you ever thought possible, pushing him out of the way with only a second to spare, as the attack hit the very spot he had stood on just a moment before, shattering the marble flooring on contact. The room was enveloped in silence, Giorno motioned for his guards to leave the room, as did your mother to her partner.

“(y/n) … tesoro mio… are you okay? You… you saved me…” he said as he kneeled next to your shaking, winged form, combing his hands through your hair as he tried to get a look at your face. You looked up to see Giorno with a wide eyed golden figure hovering over him, approaching you was your mother, with a luminescent humanoid woman matching her footsteps.

“Tesoro, it seems you’re a stand user after all,” mentioned Giorno, still gazing at you, this time with an expression you hadn’t seen from him before. Completely overwhelmed by the recent events, you sat for a moment, trying to regulate your breathing with the exercises Giorno practiced with you when your anxiety overwhelmed you.

“So these are what stands are… they look terrifying…” you say, finally managing to normalize your breathing and take command of your senses once again. “where is my stand then? I presume these two figures belong to you and mother.”

“Yours is different amore… are you able to walk? Come with me…” Giorno lead you to one of the mirrors so you could see how your stand manifested; you had large wings that had sprouted from your back, your eyes glowed colorlessly, and you had luminescent geometric patterns running down your face and body, akin to the patterns you would find on a circuit board. “You have what is known as a phenomenon stand, this means that it changes your body rather than manifesting a separate entity,”

“I see…”

“We can figure out the extent of your abilities another time, for now I need to see those injuries,”

“Excuse me? You’re not doing anything further with her, I’m still serious about taking back (y/n),” interjected your mother sarcastically.

“Are you trying to anger me on purpose? I loathe having to repeat myself. Do not mistake my unwillingness to kill you this very instant on anything other than respect for (y/n),”

“Likewise…”

“You’re both so selfish!” surprised to hear you raise your voice that much, both parties were stunned to silence.

“I’m a person with my own will, I have feelings, thoughts, desires, dreams… but neither of you bother to consider any of that… Giorno, you essentially abducted me, under the ruse of protecting me, I’m sure you would have found a way to keep me safe while I lived my own life, if it was that important to you, but you weren’t interested in that… if you had just approached me like a normal person, I’d still have fallen for you… well I guess now we’ll never know … And you… mother- I use that term liberally- abandoned me… abandoned us, I don’t care what the reasons were, you left me to grow up without a mother, and now you come here and ridicule me with this dramatic display of affection,” your voice began to crack but you wouldn’t let them see you cry, not so soon after finally finding your voice, so you left them there and went off to your special spot in the far corner of the estate. You knew that Giorno created that little piece of heaven for you strategically, as it was visible from his study, but it served as your safe place, and it was what you needed right now.

Giorno’s mind was clouded and he felt an uncomfortable suffocating sensation in his chest. Glancing at your mother it was apparent that your emotional outpouring had affected her as well.

“I think its best if you leave,”

“Wait, Giorno… perhaps this approach wasn’t the best way to do this, I underestimated you…”

“For the sake of curiosity, what do you propose?”

“That’s going to depend on how you answer my next question…”

“For someone with as few options as you have, you’re incredibly brazen,” shot back Giorno, clearly becoming tired of the conversation.

“I spoke to her father before coming here… he told me about my son… is… is he dead?” speaking earnestly this time, your mother steeling herself for what the young don would say to her. He observed her intently, debating whether it would be safe to divulge any information to her.

“That’s classified information,” he said, knowing full well that the idiot was alive somewhere, unable to be a threat to anyone again, unfortunately he couldn’t divulge this information to anyone. If she was smart enough she would be able to figure it out for herself, any more than that he could not offer.

“I understand… Fine, I’ll back off, (y/n) can stay here… but I need to speak to her, to explain everything, when she’s ready though…”

Giorno contemplated for a moment, feeling oddly moved by the change in your mother’s demeanor, he found himself agreeing with her, “Fine… I’ll allow it, but I can’t have you here, never again, if you need to see her, we’ll come to you… if that’s all, I need to check on (y/n)” Your mother took her leave, thoughts of the bizarre events of the day dominating her thoughts.

You listlessly played with the water in the fountain you sat beside, eyeing the way the sunshine made the droplets that fell from your fingertips look like gems. Hearing the scrunching sound of grass being stepped on, you knew that Giorno was approaching you. Unwilling to turn around to face him, you continued to look at the water.

“May I sit with you?” his voice was tender and didn’t match his imposing figure. Looking up his striking face, framed by golden waves, you nodded wordlessly.

“Talk to me cara…”

“What do you want me to say?”

“What’s on your mind…”

You paused, thinking carefully before starting to speak. “There’s so much on my mind… I… I just can’t understand you. You bring me here under the most dubious circumstances, but treat me like I’m the center of your world. I want to hate you for taking me away from my world, but I’ve never felt as loved by anyone in that world as much as I do here with you. How can you look at me with eyes so gentle now, when those same eyes were ready to kill not even two hours ago? How am I supposed to make up my mind about you when your every action contradicts the next?”

“It’s simple bella… I love you… you’re above the rules I set for everyone else… my one weakness is you, I’m sorry, I just don’t know how else to be, it’s either everything or nothing. Perhaps, forget about what you think and focus on how you feel… You know, we aren’t that different, the two of us… so many parents between us and barely enough traits among them to make up one good guardian, having to basically raise ourselves, so much pressure from such a young age, being scared of what lurks in the dark, experiencing so much physical pain, you just become immune to it. I have to admit, I was jealous of that brave assault by your mother, I don’t know if anyone would do the same for me… except you of course… you almost died to get me out of harm’s way… and just when I thought I couldn’t love you any more than I do…”

The gentle way he cupped your chin, as if you were made of crystal, and the swirl of emotion in his eyes, compelled you to act on your impulses, kissing him passionately, releasing some of the pent up emotions and frustrations that have been building up for the longest time. His free hand curled itself around your waist, while your hands tangled themselves in his hair. Resting your forehead on his, you hear him murmuring affirmations of his love for you.

“I love you too, Gio,” the words just rolled off your tongue as if you were always meant to say them. Giorno, seemingly moved by your placid declaration, buried his face in your hair, inhaling the floral scent of your shampoo that he loved so much. What you didn’t see was the sardonic smile blooming on his handsome face. He always was a master at deception… although, it couldn’t be classified as deception if most of what he said was true… could it? He didn’t want to play the sympathy card today, but it was the only way he could firmly cement your place with him for good. Pulling away for a moment, looking at the love-struck expression on your face as you softly move your hand from his hair to his chest, he could see that you were finally complete- entirely devoted to him… there was no room for guilt this time.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #Hades!Giorno x Persephone! Reader #Hades x Persephone modern AU #yandere jjba prt 5 #yandere giogio #yandere giorno #giorno giovanna #giorno #yandere jjba x reader #kidnapping #manipulation

191 notes · View notes