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munsonmuses · 6 months ago

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Emperor Geta x Fem! Reader

Warnings: smut, gladiatorial combat, animalistic tendencies, uhhhg there’s a breeding kink. This was not proofread.

Word Count: 2.3k

Authors Comments: Iiiii was a major Roman Empire nerd as a kid, so if there’s stuff you’re like “that seemed specific” about? I promise you the research was done and I had to consult my notebooks from when I was a teeny tot (like a young teen). And yes, thumbs up signified death because it represented an upturned sword for combat, and the thumbs down signified sparing the loser, by turning your sword down to sheath

The light fabric of the linen chiton you wore felt like chains, the beautiful gold brooches holding it in place and the belt that rested low on your waist like the shackles. Leading you to a life you’d never wanted. To a future you knew you’d loathe so deeply. This wasn’t the life you’d dreamt of as a young woman. Bringing peace to an empire, marrying a man who was made perfectly for you by the gods.

All of these opportunities had been ripped from between your fingers. Your life slipped away the moment you’d heard that Emperor Geta had set his sights on you. He was callous, pompous, the human equivalent of a promenading lion. He thought nothing but the best of himself, and believed he deserved things equally as good. One of those things being you.

Your finger delicately worked on adjusting the raw leather straps of your sandals. The stephane felt like it was weighting your whole body down, veil swishing against your nape, sending chills down your spine. That the earth may swallow you whole in one fell motion was a wishful thought as you carefully examined the large hall.

It was egregious, how much gold one man could have. How many statues of himself an individual could bare to own. Slowly standing from the large chaise you’d been guided too and approaching one. tracing the curve of his nose, the apples of his cheeks. The manic look they’d managed to capture in his marble portrait, captured perfectly within the massive pupils. Scoffing lightly before hearing a laugh from behind you that caused your skin to pebble viciously. Turning around to face him.

The statue somehow didn’t manage to perfectly capture his mania. Pupils so wide they looked almost entirely black. A wolfish grin. His entire body reeked of need and want.

“You, are even more beautiful than Caracalla described…just look at you-“ his hands clamped down on your upper arms. Holding you in place as he hummed. “You’ll do nicely…” he murmured as you quirked a brow lightly.

You prayed that when you asked, he’d give you a different answer than what you’d been prepared for. Not wanting to surrender yourself to matrimony with a man so viciously bloodthirsty and self righteous. “What will I do nicely for, imperator?” You whispered as he let his eyes glaze over your body. Taking in every inch of you before nodding.

“Don’t be silly, you know what I brought you here for. I have chosen you to be my empress. Not Caracalla’s. Strictly my own.” He insisted as he moved a hand up to grip your jaw while humming. “You’ll take to the role with pride. A loving and affectionate empress…and you’ll give me my sons to lead the future of my empire once my time has come. Am I understood?” He questioned as you scoffed lightly to yourself. Fixing your rings and pulling away. Pacing the large floor of the hall as he kept his eyes on you. Ready to pounce if necessary.

“I am marrying you strictly for familial agreement. Through my loyalty for my empire and my dedication to my familial name…it has nothing to do with you.” You murmured as he sucked on his teeth lightly. You weren’t afraid of him, you saw yourself as an independent being, even a possible equal. An equal amount of hatred that matched his levels of obsession. Overall, he was clearly agitated by your lack of throwing yourself at him, the need for you to desperately present yourself to him. Though he wouldn’t push it. To get you out from under Caracalla’s thumb was difficult enough, so he’d take what he could get.

“Your chambers are prepared, you’ll be dressed for our wedding and you’ll smile. You’ll be grateful.” He ordered as you nodded, allowing the two women by the doorway to follow you out as you sighed in frustration to yourself.

These women were terrified to touch you, though they attempted to feebly conceal their terror as you hummed. Hair carefully arranged with an orange veil placed atop. Slipping into the white woven fabric of your wedding tunic, and slipped on orange sandals. Careful with them as you worked on fastening the knot of Hercules around your waist. Nodding slowly as you assessed yourself in the mirror.

It felt like lead lined your stomach as you approached the large garden, eyes meeting with Geta’s own. Your family and his court clearly anxiously awaiting your arrival. Your dowry had been exchanged, and Geta grinned delightedly at the sight of you approaching. Wringing his fingers, rings loudly knocking together as you frowned in mild fury. He was childish and cocky and self absorbed, albeit a bit handsome.

You stopped in front of him as the two of you read over the marriage contract. His eyes constantly flicking up to you as you lifted your metal pen from the inkwell. Scrawling your name with confidence as he followed suit. His hand suddenly clutching your left wrist as your head whipped to look at him. Geta removing the thick red stoned ring upon one of his fingers and slipping it onto one of your own as he hummed contentedly. Clearly awaiting reciprocation for his affections.

You carefully took his face, pressing a pursed lip kiss to his own plush pink lips as he cradled the back of your head and your waist. Satisfied with his win. Cementing your future with your new husband, as empress.

Your wedding was a few months ago, and in that time you’d been growing to know, like, and even love Geta. Although shrouded in cruel mystery, he did have a tender heart when it came to you. Gifting you lavishly, bathing you in riches and praise. You’d never gone to bed on an empty stomach, and you managed to share romantic pleasantries with him regularly.

You sat beside him as you watched a battle in the coliseum. Head perched on your fist in boredom as he smiled wide at you. The folds of your brooches and adornments complimenting the rich purples of your own robes. Your stephane crooked as his hand delicately reached up to adjust it. “Isn’t this delightful my heart?” He whispered eagerly as you scoffed in light amusement. Grinning lightly at him as you kissed his rings lightly.

“It’s alright. Gladiator fights have never…settled my nerves. If anything the bloodsport terrifies me…” you murmured as his own lips pulled into a tight frown. Though unlike usual, he didn’t have a smart or cold comment to make.

You carefully watched the two men fight, though you could barely call them that. Barely older than sixteen a piece as you chewed on your lip. The larger of the two slamming his sword into the smaller boys shield. Reminding you of the kind boys you’d known in your youth who had the whole world in front of them, stolen in war. Your heart heavy at the sight.

Geta’s eyes were trained on you. Noticing the paleness in your face, watering eyes as you left your chair to look over the edge of the balcony at these boys. Heart pounding in your ears as he sighed. He was furious, he was angry…love had “weakened” him, was what Caracalla had lamented before. But in his eyes, it simply made him better for you. Being weak for one’s own wife was impossible.

Your head whipped to look at him as the smaller boy was bloodied and bruised. Whipped to the ground by his foe as Geta stood slowly for the crowd to see.

He lifted his hand slowly, glancing over at you as his thumb rested on its side. He would typically give a thumbs up, signaling the death of the weaker boy…but instead his thumb dropped. The crowd gasping at the young man being spared at the Emperors command.

Geta’s eyes flicked to you one last time. Seeing nothing but adoration in them as he dismissed his co-contributors frustrated muttering, walking off with you to your shared chambers as he hummed in your ear.

“You’re welcome…” he whispered as you rolled your eyes lightly at him. Kissing his cheek lightly as you closed the large doors behind yourself.

With your back to him, you slowly worked on unhooking the brooches of your chiton, letting the fabric pool at your feet as you worked on removing your sandals slowly. Hearing his movements stop, eyes on you as you grinned lightly over your shoulder.

“You have shown such monumental growth…and kindness…and change, my emperor…” you whispered as you stalked towards him. His breath shaky and heavy as he carefully nodded. “I am so amazed by you…” you murmured as he watched your hands making work of the fasteners on his own tunic. It slipping down his shoulders as you smiled.

“I want…to reward you,” you murmured into his ear. Geta was a man who worked on praise, adoration and reward. He needed something for every “accomplishment” he made. This time you’d give him something more.

He let himself be lied back on your massive bed, his cock slowly hardening. Pressed to his stomach. Cheeks and chest flushed as you hummed lightly to yourself. He deserved this, even if it was simple human decency…it was a major turning point for him.

You kissed along his jaw, down his neck, his chest. Lightly nipping at his flushed skin as you worked lower and lower. Pressing kisses down his stomach and licking along the light indentations of his abs before finally paying attention to his desperate cock.

Already twitching lightly, Geta was not a hard man to work up. Lightly pressing warm, open mouthed kisses along his shaft. Tenderly massaging his balls as he whimpered lightly at your ministrations. Following your movements with frantic eyes.

He shivered lightly as he felt your lips lightly wrap around his tip. Lazily sucking and stroking the rest of his shaft lightly. Having used your kisses from earlier as a bit of lubrication. Stroking in time with your slowly bobbing head. Every few moments getting lower and lower. Relishing on the velvety feeling of his thick cock against your tongue. Finally taking your hand away and placing it on his hip. The other taking his right hand and leading it to the back of your head as he trembled lightly. “My heart…please-“ his whisper wasn’t much more than a breath.

The lewd noises of you taking him deep down your throat, slowly sucking while hollowing out your cheeks. Obediently tending to his needs as you groaned desperately against him. Your free hand trailing downward to massage your own clit as he bucked his hips lightly.

“You tease me…” he growled out. “With your desperate hands, your heavenly mouth, your body on full display…you tear me into nothing but tatters of a man…and you relish in my desperation,” he hissed as you pulled your head off.

Stroking his cock lightly as you maintained eye contact with him. Your own blown out with need and want as you continued to tend to your own clit. Sensitive bud twitching under your small, circular motions. Geta’s eyes trained on simply you. Filled with nothing but love and obsession as he growled.

Taking your wrists firmly, he pulled your hands away from both of your own sensitive bodies. Working on lying you back as he pressed his lips to your ear. “You’re a temptress…and you’ll understand just how deeply I want for you…and you’ll give me my sons,” he hissed as he worked one of your legs up around his waist. Keeping one hand on your wrists, pinned above your head as he lined himself up with your wanting cunt. Slowly easing himself into you.

You could feel every vein, every curve. A desperate moan being ripped from you as you arched your back lightly. Geta’s soft laugh and heaving breaths the only other noise you could focus on. His mouth greedily kissing along your soft skin. Nipping at your shoulders and neck. Trailing down to your breasts. Lightly taking your left nipple between his teeth. Sucking and nipping at the sensitive bud while lazily rolling his hips. Breeding you on his terms.

“Fucking…mnghhh…you’re so good~” he mumbled between mouthfuls of greedy kisses. His thrusts short and swift. Though deep enough to give that knot in your stomach a bit of reprieve. Humming contentedly to himself as he watched your lust clouded eyes. “I can’t promise that you’ll be able to do much once im finished…” he murmured as he began to focus on his thrusts.

Deep and swift, pressing deep into your twitching cunt, your wrists finally free of his grasp as your arms wrapped around his shoulders. Holding him close as he fucked deeper into you. “It’s a blessing, to get to carry the future of our empire. Thank me for blessing you…” he growled out as he held your hips firmly. Your moans in time with his thrusts as you struggled to form a single coherent thought.

“Fuck!…thank you, for allow-…allowing me to carry your heirs, and the future of Rome!” Your voice cracked between moans as he laughed lightly. Working on bringing you to your orgasm as he hummed.

Your body felt like it was ablaze, each thrust causing that knot to unravel further and further. Whimpering in desperation and squawking desperately before letting your head fall back. His name spilling past your lips before feeling that knot come undone. Mouth falling open in incoherent babbles as Geta fucked you through your orgasm. Making sure you were thoroughly satisfied and gritting his teeth.

Unable to hold himself back much longer, his thrusts became short and swift before he hilted himself deep within you and came. His own mutters just broken up syllables of your name, trembling arms, and weak kisses along your skin. His body collapsing upon your own as he pressed hot and gentle kisses to your skin.

“I love you…” he murmured, allowing his eyes to close as you lightly combed through his hair. Your own growing heavy as you sighed.

“I love you too…”

#emperor geta x reader #emperor geta #joseph quinn #Joseph Quinn Cinematic Universe #JQCU #addiewrites #gladiator 2 #gladiator Joseph Quinn #emperor geta just one chance please

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bucketsofmonsters · 1 year ago

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On The Altar

cw: kidnapping, size difference, attempted human sacrifice, indoctrination, culty vibes, blood, hunting animals for food, self-loathing, allusions to drowning, heights, non-human genitalia, voyeurism, oral sex, threesome, unprotected sex, everyone in this is having a rough time

male dragon x male knight x fem reader

word count: 12k

Your breath caught as you stared at yourself in the mirror and a sort of disappointment washed over you. The white ceremonial dress draped across your form, fitted perfectly to you.

You were supposed to look better than you ever had. Your heart sank a little when realized you didn’t think you did.

Your birthday a few months ago. You thought you looked better then.

You should have toned it down, not given yourself such a high bar to clear. It was your own fault, really.

It had just been your last one. You'd wanted to make it count

Your head felt heavy with the ceremonial braids in your hair and the golden crown atop your head. It matched the rest of your accessories. Golden bracelets and necklaces and cuffs that circled your biceps.

You wondered if it was real gold. Of course, everyone said it was but it seemed like a difficult thing to manage, a whole set of new golden adornments made every year just for it to be lost. A Sisyphean task.

You didn’t have to worry about that. Your responsibility was far from that of the clothing and jewelry makers. You didn’t have to do any work at all, a crowd of women ensuring you didn’t so much as lift a finger on your day, bathing you and dressing you in unfamiliar clothes.

You’d spent the whole day preparing. This was the first time you’d had a chance to breathe.

Excitement and nerves all swelled inside of you, neither able to snuff the other out.

Time was flying by and you weren’t sure whether you wanted it to slow or speed up. Part of you wanted to cherish these last few moments but it was almost here. It was almost your time.

They tied you up. Not that they had to. You weren’t going anywhere. It was just tradition.

You forgot to treasure your last moments of sight before someone behind you pulled a blindfold over your eyes.

All you were left to do was imagine it. Being pulled from where you stood on the shore, being dragged under the water, the air leaving you as you fulfilled your duty.

And the town saved.

They’d do it again next year and again the next, just like they had for decades. But this year was yours. You would save them.

What a privilege it was to die for them.

You wondered if the ropes ruined the lines of your dress. You supposed you’d never find out.

Something hooked around your shoulders and you couldn’t help but flinch. You took in a big gulp of air instinctually, knowing what was coming.

You braced yourself to be dragged forwards and instead slipped backward as you were lifted in the wrong direction. The ground disappeared from under you before you could fall.

Your legs kicked, searching for anything below you, but you found nothing. The wind rushed up around you and despite your lack of vision, you could feel that you were rising up and up and up.

You were meant to be dragged down to the depths and yet here you were, being hoisted into the sky. Claws dug into your skin and you were still blind and disoriented. Fear overtook you.

You reached up and felt at whatever was carrying you, finding scaly skin connected to the strong talons digging into your shoulders.

And then, as quickly as you’d been scooped up, you were being dropped. Rocks scraped your skin as you tumbled onto a hard stone floor. The bindings had come undone during the fall and you scrambled for your blindfold, squinting when the harsh light reached your eyes.

As your vision began to adjust, you saw an enormous figure in front of you. At first, all you could see was a silhouette. Massive wings curled into the figure and the dragon that was slowly coming into focus in front of you stared right back at you.

It was retreating into mounds of shiny things, gold and silver, old pieces of armour and crowns and candelabras piled into the cave you’d been thrown into.

It stood out amongst the collection, a hulking creature with scales that shone a dark bronze that matched little of his horde. It was probably 20 feet long, its head cocked to the side as it watched you.

Your instincts screamed at you to run, to get as far away from the creature as possible.

You took a deep breath and tried to steady yourself. If you tried to run it could just scoop you up again. Besides, the last thing you wanted to do was activate a hunting instinct. Maybe right now, covered in gold jewelry, he saw you as something for his horde. It was certainly preferable to the alternative.

He didn’t seem to be eating you, which you took as a good sign. Maybe if you removed the gold from yourself, it would lose interest in you and you could sneak out. If you rushed and were lucky, maybe you could even make it back in time. A sacrifice without the ceremonial adornments wasn’t ideal but it would certainly be better than nothing.

You slowly lifted your hand to the golden cuff on your bicep, praying it wouldn’t think you were trying to take it. You tried to rip it from the white fabric of your dress, wanting to return home with at least some of your dignity, and your clothes, intact.

Its head tilted further to the side and then a voice sounded, echoing off the walls. “What are you doing? Why would you ruin such a lovely dress?”

You froze at the noise, looking up wide-eyed at the creature. It couldn’t have. That wasn’t possible. Dragons were forces of chaos. Mindless beasts, nothing more.

You blinked slowly, wondering if maybe you hadn’t woken up this morning quite yet. Or perhaps you’d been pulled underwater too quickly to notice and this was the oxygen deprivation messing with your mind.

“Hello,” you responded.

Its jaw opened to reveal layers of teeth in a ghoulish imitation of a smile. “Hello!”

You felt your heart stutter in your chest. “What… why did you take me?” You tried your best to keep your voice steady. The last thing you wanted was to upset the creature.

“You were out there to be taken, yes?”

Oh. You supposed you were. Perhaps you’d been sending mixed messages to the monsters of the world.

You wondered if maybe some town made sacrifices just like you to dragons.

“I was,” you said cautiously. “But not for you. For the creatures of the deep. Fishing is our life, it’s how we survive. We need the waters to be safe.”

“Not… what? You’re… but I thought. So you weren’t out there for me?” He sounded heartbroken.

“It’s fine,” you said, keeping your voice level. “Misunderstandings happen. Just take me back and everything will be fine.”

“No, it doesn’t make sense. You’re covered in gold. You can’t just cover someone in gold and not expect a dragon to come snatch them up. You must have known. You must be for me.”

“Well, I’m not. And I would love to go home now.”

“What do they even want with you?” it asked, avoiding any discussion of bringing you back. “I don’t know much about humans but I know you aren’t water creatures. They couldn’t even take you anywhere, they’d have to come all the way up to visit you every day.”

Now it was your turn to be confused. “What?”

You’d assumed he’d taken you for the same reasons as the creatures you sacrificed maidens to every year. To take and consume, to feel worshiped. But it sounded like this dragon had entirely different ideas as to why a monster would want a sacrifice.

“I wouldn’t have to just visit you,” he said. “I could be with you all the time. Take good care of you. No water involved. I’d keep you warm and fed and completely dry.”

“I’m not given to be a pet,” you snapped.

The creature reeled back and began backpedaling instantly. “I didn’t mean you’re like a pet, I just meant…”

“They were going to kill me,” you said. “I’m a sacrifice. They need to kill me. It’s the only way.”

It took him a minute to understand what you could possibly mean by that. You could practically see the wheels turning in his head as he tried to understand.

You didn’t have time for this. “Just take me back,” you pleaded with him.

He paused. “They’re going to kill you?”

“It’s none of your concern what they’re going to do.”

He dropped his head low, resting it on his tail with a huff. “Then I’m not taking you anywhere.”

Your heart sank. “I can’t believe this is happening.”

“I can’t let them hurt you.”

You let out an exasperated groan, burying your head in your hands. “It has to happen, without it so many more will perish.

“What if I start terrorizing your village!” the dragon said, with the intonation of someone who’d just had a great idea but none of the content. “Or say I would if I didn’t have you. Then your sacrifice won’t have been for nothing.”

Reasoning with him was starting to seem pointless. “Please don’t.”

“Well, either way, I’m not letting you go back. If I let you go, it would be like I hurt you. No, you can stay here.”

You could not do this, couldn’t argue with this strange creature who was incapable of understanding how vital it was that you returned so your town had its proper sacrifice.

You stormed over to the corner of the cave, leaning against the cold stone wall with a huff.

He just stared at you, neverendingly, undeterred by your attitude.

“It can’t be comfortable over there,” he called out to you.

“Leave me alone!” you shouted back, curling in further on yourself.

He wanted to approach you, you could tell that much. His hesitation was evident and he took small steps forwards before pulling himself back, repeating the gesture over and over until he seemed to come to a conclusion.

“Alright. I can go for a while. Don’t hurt yourself.”

With that, he gave you a final once-over and flew out of the cave.

He was hard to read. The way a dragon worked was unfamiliar to you. The most you could do was take guesses and try your best. Hopefully, you wouldn’t be around long enough to figure out the intricacies of dragon body language.

You should run. If you were going to have a chance to escape, this would be it.

As you edged out of the cave, your dreams of making it down the mountain were crushed. There was, technically, a sort of path down the mountain. It was barely a few feet wide with a sheer cliff at the edge of it.

You hadn’t eaten since this morning. You were scared and exhausted and there was a slight tremor in your hands you couldn’t quite seem to rid yourself of. There was no way you could safely traverse that path.

You went back into the cave with a huff, waiting for your captor to return.

Eventually, he did, blood dripping down his face as he dropped an animal in front of you. It was hard to tell what it was with the way it was mangled. It was clearly a fresh kill.

You stared blankly at him, edging further away and into the cave wall.

At your lack of reaction, he nudged the creature towards you. “You should eat,” he said.

“I can’t eat that.”

You prayed he wouldn’t try and force you.

“Why don’t you just eat me?” you spat at him. “At least it would be better than this.”

At least then you wouldn’t have to live with the knowledge that you’d failed, and your village would pay the price.

He tilted his head once more. “Why would I do that? I’ve wanted to meet a human for a very very long time. I’ve got another friend too, come look.”

He started to wander back into the cave, behind piles of gold and you hesitantly followed him on shaky legs.

When you reached the back of the dark cave, you found a single, frightened sheep sitting atop a massive patch of grass that seemed to have been uprooted from the ground.

“I took him from a field. I couldn’t eat him, he had sad eyes.”

“Do I have sad eyes?” you asked. Maybe that was why he insisted on keeping you, refusing to let you go back home.

He looked at you and as hard as it was to read the facial expressions of a dragon, you knew exactly what he was thinking.

“Is it that bad?” you asked as you looked away.

“Not bad. You just look like you're hurting.”

If you were it was because of him. This was supposed to be the best day of your life, the only day that mattered. And instead, you were here, looking at a poor terrorized sheep who was in the same position you were in.

“So, what can you eat?” the dragon asked. Before you could give an answer, it said, “Nevermind, I’ve got an idea.”

You didn’t get the chance to ask him what it was. He was off again, moving through the cave until you heard the telltale flapping noise that meant you were alone once more.

You looked down at the sheep again.

Maybe not entirely alone.

He returned swiftly with a whole market cart in tow. It had piles of bread in it, although they were a little worse for wear from the flight. You had no doubt that some unsuspecting farmers had found it raining loaves of bread as he made his way back.

You were too hungry to worry about scolding him for the thievery. You grabbed the first piece you could get your hands on and took the biggest bite you were capable of.

Your dragon watched, seemingly entranced by the sight.

As you chewed your first bite of freshly baked bread he asked, “I did alright this time?”

You nodded, unable to speak through the mouthful of food.

As you finished scarfing down your bread, you sat in the grass with your new sheep companion and asked your captor, “Do you have a name?”

The dragon considered this for a moment. “No. No one has ever needed to call me anything.”

“Oh. I thought dragons would have names.”

“They do. Just not me.”

You looked up at him, brow furrowed. “What, just you?”

He hummed in acknowledgment, the vibrations from the noise cascading through the stone under you. “Didn’t bother to give me one. I was the runt so you know how it is. Or maybe you don’t. I don’t really know how people work. With dragons, the littlest one always has to go. That’s the way it is.”

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It’s fine. I get a little lonely but now you’re here!”

You rolled your eyes, collapsing back into the grass. If you closed your eyes you could pretend you were outside your village lying in a field instead of trapped in a dark cave on a cold mountain. “Yeah, now I’m here.”

The moment couldn’t last. It was too cold, there was no wind. The air smelled different.

“You know,” you said. “We had stories about dragons. Big terrifying ones that wanted to hurt people. My mother used to tell me stories of Pytho. I was so scared of him when I was little.”

“Oh.” You heard his wings rustle and opened one of your eyes to peek over at him, shuffling uncomfortably in place.

“I could call you Pytho,” you added. “It’s the only dragon name I know.”

“If you think it fits, I suppose. I thought you said he was big and scary?”

You laughed. “Well, from my perspective, you’re pretty big and scary.”

Instead of being pleased at your words, he reeled back. “Are you scared of me?”

You shrugged. “I was. Not so much anymore. Honestly, I think on any other day, I would’ve liked you”

“But not today?”

You shook your head. “Not today.”

“Well then,” he said as he began to curl up into a ball, “Maybe tomorrow.”

You backed up, leaning against the cold wall, and tried to suppress your tears at the thought that there would be a tomorrow for you at all.

When you woke up, it was all still real. A dragon snored beside you as a sheep stared at you with the saddest gaze you’d ever seen.

Maybe, as you looked at it, it thought the same thing about you.

Pytho stirred from his slumber, immediately turning to check on you.

When you felt his warm breath directed at you, you realized just how cold you were. Not that you were going to do anything about it. Your only source of warmth was the dragon in front of you and you were going to go nowhere near him.

You clench your fists, doing your best to stop the shivering.

He didn’t seem to notice. With the warmth that he radiated, you were sure that the concept of being cold was something that was foreign to him.

You turned away from the creature. If he wouldn’t take you back, the least you could do was deprive him of your attention.

It wasn’t much but it was all you had.

The day passed slowly but still, it passed. You spent it wallowing in the corner.

Pytho left you alone after the first few outbursts. He seemed to understand that you needed your space. You could appreciate him for at least that much.

As the sun began to set once more, you began to realize just how much warmth and light the day had brought to this miserable cave.

You curled in on yourself, not far from how Pytho slept.

You watched him begin to settle in for the night and saw a moment of hope where he tried to move closer to you. You glared at him and he stopped in his tracks.

“You’re still upset with me,” he noted.

“Of course I am. There’s nothing for me now. It was supposed to be over and now it’s not. You took that from me.”

“I took your ending,” he said, and you knew he understood.

“You did.”

“You’ll find a new ending someday.”

“But that one was mine. It mattered,” you said, frustrated that he couldn’t seem to get it.

“You matter.”

You scoffed. “I did.”

“You do.”

You turned away from him with a huff. “You don’t understand. You can’t.”

“Goodnight, little human.”

You fell into a fitful sleep against the cold stone of the cave. When you woke, however, you felt warm and safe.

You opened your eyes to find Pytho standing over you, his body heat covering you in waves of warmth, even when he wasn’t touching you.

“You were shivering,” he said, like it was that simple. You were cold, he was warm. There wasn’t anything else to be done. You hadn’t even known he understood what shivering was.

You slid away from him, back into the cold.

He watched you. That’s all he ever seemed to do. Watch you. “You’re mad at me but you’re punishing yourself.”

You didn’t dignify that with a response. “Let me go back.”

“I will not.”

You tried to sleep again but the cold felt harsher now, crueler. It was your turn to watch him, remember the waves of heat across your skin.

You waited until his breathing leveled out, the rise and fall of his chest becoming uniform. You couldn’t handle a smug look or excitement. You just needed to sleep.

You took the few steps between you slowly and gently leaned against his side.

Almost instantly, without thinking, he curled around you, bundling you up in a nest of warm scales. His breathing was steady against your side.

You’d never slept better.

You woke to find his head a few inches from yours, propped up on his tail and staring at you with a soft gaze.

“Good morning,” he said.

You gave him a hum of acknowledgment back.

You were wracked with guilt. How could you be enjoying this, allowing yourself even these minor comforts? It wasn’t right. None of this was right.

You pulled away from him, feeling sick.

Traitor. You’d betrayed them after they’d put so much trust in you. Who knew what was happening to them now, while you slept feeling warm and comfortable.

“You still want to go?” he asked in hushed tones as you backed away, clearly afraid of the answer.

You nodded. “I’m always going to want to go. I have to make this right.”

He let out a pained whine and moved towards you slowly, giving you the chance to stop him.

You didn’t.

“You could be happy here,” he insisted. “Why won’t you just be happy here?”

“It just wasn’t meant to be."

“Don’t want you to get hurt,” he whined out.

You pressed your forehead to his. “Does it not matter what I want?”

He let out a huff and hot air cascaded over your face. He was always so warm.

You pressed a kiss to his scaly nose. “I know you want to help, but I have to do this. Please let me do this.”

And he stared. Just stared at you, like he was drinking it in, trying to memorize you.

Finally, his face fell and you knew exactly what it meant.

“If you change your mind…” he said. “If you ever get the chance, come back to me. You’ll always have a safe place here.”

You nodded, still holding his head in your hands. You knew you never would, but it was nice to imagine returning someday.

You looked down at your dress, dirty and torn, and you finished ripping off the golden cuff you’d started to tear days ago.

“You can have this if you want. For what could have been.”

His eyes were glassy. You didn’t know dragons could cry. He grasped the golden cuff in his talons, tucking it away far from the rest of the gold, instead next to his beloved sheep. “For what could have been.”

A forlorn laugh escaped you as you looked at him. All three of you had sad eyes now.

Before either of you had the chance to rethink it, he moved towards the mouth of the cave and you followed.

Familiar talons grasped your shoulders and you were off again.

This time, there was no blindfold. An entire landscape unfolded below you and you watched towns and rivers and forests pass you by at incredible speeds.

Your hands reached up to grab Pytho’s legs, the seer distance to the ground making you dizzy.

The flight was shorter than you remembered. You wished it wasn’t but as your feet touched grass, real grass rooted in the real ground, you knew there was nothing to be done.

He dropped you off near the village but still outside of it. It was for the best, you couldn’t imagine anyone inside the town would be particularly pleased to see him. Worst case scenario, they might even try and hurt him.

As soon as you’d properly landed he flew off, leaving you behind. No parting words, no last look. Before you knew it he was gone, a distant silhouette on a blue sky.

Good. You didn’t want him to see what might happen here anyways.

The walk back was too quiet. You could hear the birds and the wind but none of it was enough to drown out the blood rushing in your ears.

You didn’t know why your heart was pounding so loudly. This was what you wanted. You were back, ready to repent for the crime of being stolen.

The first person who saw you was a boy. He couldn’t have been more than ten. He wandered on the outskirts of the village but as soon as he saw you he turned and ran back into the town, probably telling tales of your miraculous homecoming.

You’d been so caught up in your return you had managed to think of little else but now, as you neared society once more, you realized what a mess you’d become. Your sacrificial dress was brown with now much dirt it had collected, ripped and shredded and hanging off of you in tatters. You were sure your face and hair were just as dirty.

You walked further and further into town, unsure of what to do with yourself. You’d assumed someone else would tell you what to do but instead, they grouped together and stared, whispering and pointing as you trudged your way through the village.

As you reached the center of town, you found a gathering waiting for you.

You stopped in front of them, waiting as they inspected you. The same people who’d helped ready you and told you how vital you were to the town now looked down at you with thinly veiled disdain plastered across their faces.

“I came back as soon as I could,” you said, your voice sounding small and weak.

The man at the front of the group, the one who chose the sacrifices, made speeches about its vitalness every year, spoke. His voice boomed across the gathering. It didn’t feel fair. He was accustomed to speaking to crowds like this. You weren’t meant for this, of course you sounded small. “We chose another,” he said, and his words echoed in your ears.

Your heart sank in your chest. Of course they did. What else would they have done? At least it meant the town was safe. So why did it sting so badly?

“I can do it next year,” you said. “Please, let me do it next year. I’m here now.”

The man turned up his nose at you. “You abandoned your post.”

You could feel yourself getting more and more frantic as he spoke. “No, I was taken. I came back as soon as I could, I promise! Please.”

“An example must be made.”

You nodded, searching for a way out, any way you could still be useful. “Anything. I’ll do anything.”

The women who’d helped you bathe and get dressed a few days prior surged forwards, grasping at your arms. They held you in place as you refused to struggle.

“This is what happens to deserters,” he called out over the crowd.

You could barely think, barely hear his words.

The fact that you’d been replaced kept running through your mind. You’d been raised for this. It was all you’d ever wanted. You’d dreamed of it.

You weren’t so sure you wanted it anymore.

It didn’t matter anyways. It was too late. You’d left.

The man chanting to the crowd pulled out a knife.

It felt like what you deserved. Your chest tightened with guilt and fear. Now it wouldn’t even be for anything. Just an example, nothing more.

Maybe it was saving them, in a way. Saving them from an epidemic of girls who thought they could escape it and damn the town in the meantime. Maybe you still could die for something.

A thudding sound echoes in your ears, slightly out of time with your heartbeat. It felt almost grounding, helped you ignore the chants of deserter and heathen. You didn’t have the strength to try and defend yourself, to insist that no, you’d fought to come back. You weren’t even sure you believed that anymore. You latched onto the thudding, anything to get those words out of your head.

And then the arms that had held you down were being ripped away and instead you found yourself being lifted. This was not the endless upwards motion of your dragon. Instead, you found yourself hoisted onto the back of a horse.

Hard metal dug into your side and you looked up to see a knight in full armour, his face hidden by his helm and his arm hooked around your waist.

You pounded your fists against him, fighting to be let go. “No!” you shouted. “I need to do this. I need to be forgiven.”

The knight's grip on you tightened and the horse you were both on sped up. Neither seemed to find your fighting anything more than mildly inconvenient.

Before long, your struggle slowed. You were becoming very used to the intense frustration that accompanied being trapped, being taken away with no regard for what you wanted.

You lost track of time as you rode. You’d just been trying to make things right, even if you couldn’t do what you were meant to do. The universe seemed intent on stopping you.

Maybe you’d done something wrong, offended the cosmos so severely you were no longer permitted to do what you were meant for.

As the horse slowed, the knight's grip on you loosened.

He set you gently on the ground in the midst of this unfamiliar forest and you glared up at him.

“Can I go now?” you hissed. “Or am I still being kidnapped?”

“There were going to kill you,” he said as he dismounted his horse.

“You don’t know what was going on,” you insisted. “Maybe I deserved it.”

He rummaged around in his saddlebag. “Maybe.”

You reeled back a little, not expecting him to agree with you. “Oh. Can I go back then?”

“No. Here, eat this.” He held out some dried meat in your direction.

You refused it. It would be a waste anyways.

“Why can’t I go?” you asked. If he didn’t even know if you were in the right, what reason could he possibly have for taking you?

“I’ve heard about your village, you know. I was worried I was too late. They’ve messed with your mind. It’s not your fault but you’re not making good choices right now.”

“My choices are fine,” you shouted. “Who are you to decide that? You don’t even know what I did.”

“What did you do?”

“I shirked my duty. I should have been there.”

“For what?”

“To be their sacrifice.”

“You didn’t deserve that.”

You did, but he couldn’t know that. It was beyond him.

It was hard to remember where you were. It didn’t make sense. Why weren’t you home? Or were you? You knew that you should be. Why wouldn’t you be?

You saw your dress, dirty and crumpled and ripped. You’d ruined it. How would you go through with the ritual now?

Something in you always knew you’d ruin it somehow. And now things were all wrong. Who else’s fault could it be?

The knight pushed some food at you and once again you were in a forest far from home.

You threw it back at him. “I said I don’t want it. Aren’t you going to eat?”

That damn helmet stared back at you for a moment before he said, “Maybe later.”

“Do you have a name?” you asked, desperate to get anything from him.

“Phillip.”

You missed your dragon. At least you could see his face and try to figure out what he was thinking.

He got up without warning, and you jumped a little at the sudden movement.

He froze for a second as you did, staring down at you before continuing on, trudging through the nearby bushes.

He returned in a few moments.

“There’s a pond back there,” he said, gesturing towards the foliage. “It’s not too cold, you should be fine.” He started to move back towards his horse before pausing for a moment and adding, “It might make you feel better.”

You went to inspect this pond as he tended to his horse.

It was a small pond, the trees around it curling over the top of it, mostly blocking out the sun. You dipped your foot into the water and found that the knight was technically right, it wasn’t cold enough to hurt you. It still wasn’t a pleasant temperature but right now it was the best you were going to get.

As you tested out the water, you watched from behind the bushes as he mounted his horse and started to ride away.

It made sense. You wouldn’t want to keep you around either. At this point, you were just ungrateful dead weight.

You considered taking off your dress and attempting to keep it dry but at this point, it consisted more of rips and dirt than anything. Dousing it in water might do it some good.

You sunk into the cold water, doing your best to get the dirt out of your hair. As long as you were in here, you might as well attempt to get clean.

You wondered if you could find your way back to Pytho’s cave. If you could manage to get close you were sure he’d be able to find you. At least you hoped he would. It was the only place you had left to go.

You had no real desire to prolong the bath in the cold water. You just didn’t know what came next. After this, where could you even go?

Your fingers began to prune and you know you couldn’t do this forever.

As you exited the pool in your sopping wet, muddy, ripped ceremonial dress, you decided you needed to go. You weren’t sure if you were trying to find your village or Pytho but it didn’t really matter, you had no sense of what direction either was in. You just needed to be headed somewhere.

You made it half a dozen steps before you collapsed.

You didn’t even notice he’d returned until he was right in front of you, staring down at you collapsed in the dirt in your soaking-wet dress.

You watched his helmet as he looks you up and down, lingering a second too long on your chest before snapping his head back up towards your face.

He cleared his throat and you would have bet money that his face was bright red beneath his helm.

“Apologies, my lady. I thought you might want some fresh clothes.”

He held out some folded clothes with a pair of leather boots balanced atop them.

No. It wasn’t right. This was supposed to be the last outfit you ever wore. It felt like a betrayal to take it off.

“No thank you,” you said from your spot on the ground. “I’ll stick with what I have.”

“I know they’re not much but they’ll fit.”

You shook your head again.

You heard a quiet, muffled sigh escape him. “The sun is setting, you’ll freeze to death if you wear those. You can change back in the morning if you really want to.”

You eyed him suspiciously. “Promise?”

He nodded. “Promise.”

You took the clothes with a sigh. “Fine. Turn around.”

You’d never seen him move so fast. It was like he was afraid you’d start stripping the second you decided to change.

A giggle escaped you and you watched his shoulders tense up at the noise. It seemed like the two of you were having entirely different kinds of crises.

You got dressed as quickly as you could, a chill starting to set deep in your bones. He’d found you a faded red tunic that hung midway down your thighs and some pants that miraculously fit pretty well.

The boots had thick woolen socks inside and putting them on felt like heaven. You swore you’d never wear pretty shoes again as long as these were an option.

You didn’t bother telling Phillip he could turn around. He’d figure it out in his own time. Or he wouldn’t. It wasn’t really your problem.

As you got ready to sleep, you watched him, keeping track of time as best you could. It took him about twenty minutes before he finally peeked over his shoulder, finding you sitting with your back against a tree.

You gave him a halfhearted smile and he cleared his throat. “You should rest now,” he said. “We have to leave at dawn.”

“And when are you going to stop dragging me around with you?”

“Whenever you’d like. I can drop you off at a town tomorrow. I just have something I need to attend to first”

You knew by now not to get hopeful. “Can you drop me off at my town?” You kept asking but you didn’t know what the point of it was. There was nothing for you there anymore. The most you could do was repent. Pay for what you’d done. But for what?

“I can drop you off at any other town.”

You slid down the tree, basically lying on the ground. “Alright.

He spent the rest of the night in full armour and you wondered if maybe part of him thought you might attack him. Either that or these woods were more dangerous than you knew.

He awoke you the second the sun began to peek over the horizon and you groaned, trying to kick him away from you.

He would not be deterred, coaxing you up and onto the back of his horse. You got on behind him and wrapped your arms around him for stability with minimal protest. You didn’t have the energy to fight him on it.

It took you too long to realize you'd left your dress behind, discarded in the mud.

The ride was much more comfortable when you weren’t being held captive.

Forests and plains and mountains passed, all foreign and strange. You’d never left your town before, never seen anything like this. Even in your bad mood, it was hard not to admire it.

Your heart stopped as you noticed one of the mountains that the two of you were fast approaching seemed familiar.

It had taken you too long to recognize it but in your defense, you were used to seeing it from a cave right at the peak.

You shut your eyes and prayed to anyone that might be listening that you’d ride right by it.

If the gods were listening, they had a special hatred for you. You weren’t sure you could blame them.

Phillip lead the horse along the precarious path you’d deemed too dangerous only days ago.

You needed to figure out a plan but you had nothing.

With only a few minutes left before you reached the peak, Phillip dismounted, holding out his hand to help you down. You half considered trying to take his horse to go warn Pytho but you had no real idea how to ride one on your own and you couldn’t shake the feeling you’d ride the pair of you right off the cliff edge. The poor creature didn’t deserve that.

You dismounted and Phillip nodded, getting right back on the horse. “You stay here, I won’t be long.”

“No,” you yelled, a little louder than was necessary. Phillip flinched, probably worried it had echoed up the mountain and warned the dragon at the top of his presence. You hoped it had. “I want to come.”

“These are dangerous lands, m’lady. I will not let you get hurt.”

You scowled at him. “You know, people won’t stop saying that to me.”

The helm stared down at you, unwavering, before he gave his horse a swift kick in the side and it rode up the narrow path.

You took off in a dead sprint after him.

You neared the top of the path, panting, just in time to see Phillip creeping into the cave, sword drawn and at the ready.

You had no idea what to do. You couldn’t just stand here and do nothing but you felt frozen in place.

The problem was, you’d rather neither of them were hurt. It felt like an impossible situation.

Pytho needed to be warned but as gentle as he’d been with you, he could decimate Phillip in a second. That much you were certain of, no matter how competent of a knight Phillip might be.

You finally willed yourself to move, darting into the cave to see Pytho standing over Phillip, who had his sword positioned right at the dragon’s neck.

Before you could even think, you shouted, “Don’t hurt him!”

You had no real idea which of them you were talking to but both stopped in their tracks, heads spinning towards you.

For one moment you were terrified one would take advantage of the distraction to harm the other and then their blood would be on your hands. Before the worry had time to settle, Pytho swung his tail around, hitting Phillip over the head with it.

He instantly collapsed to the ground, going limp.

You rummaged around in the saddlebag as Pytho stared at you. When you finally found rope you raised it triumphantly.

Pytho’s gaze followed it up. “What is that?” he asked as you rushed towards the knight.

“It’s rope,” you informed him as you tried and failed to drag him across the floor. As soon as Pytho realized what you were doing, he swept him effortlessly into the corner for you.

You bound his hands behind his back, tethering him to some heavy golden chair that would at least slow any escape he tried to make.

“You’re back,” Pytho said behind you, his voice airy and incredulous and so very grateful.

You turned from binding the knight with a big smile. “I am. I was afraid I wouldn’t be able to make it back but this guy led me right here,” he said, nudging at him with your foot.

He didn’t seem to hear any of it. “I can’t believe you’re back.” His eyes were wide, refusing to leave you.

You nodded, grabbing Phillip’s abandoned sword and throwing it right off the mountain, listening to the clanging noises as it bounced all the way down. You glanced nervously at Phillip as you returned, leading his horse over by the sheep. “I am. This is so rude but can you please go for a couple minutes? If you’re still here when he wakes I’m afraid he might perish from fright.”

He nodded. “If that’s what you want. I will be back.”

He bumped his head lightly into you before heading out, flying off somewhere.

And not a moment too soon.

The knight stirred from his slumber. The only way you could tell was by how his helm slowly moved up, rising to meet your gaze.

The second he did he tried to move before realizing he was bound. “Why?” he asked you. “I don’t understand, you… Was this all a trap?” His voice cracked and he sounded genuinely hurt by the betrayal.

You felt a pang of sympathy in your chest as he struggled against his bindings. Quiet fearful noises escaped him as he glanced between you and Pytho’s horde.

You shushed him, your hands up in a quiet surrender. “We’re not going to hurt you. You’ll be just fine.”

“We? You’re in cahoots with this monster?”

You bristled at the harsh langue but did your best to be forgiving to the frightened man.

“He’s not a monster. He helped me. Why are you even here? He hasn’t hurt anyone.”

“That’s not what I heard. From what I’ve heard he’s been snatching up women.”

You groaned, rubbing at your temples. As you did, the knight leaned forward as much as he could and even through the stoic armour, you could tell exactly when he realized.

“No. But… but you….”

“I just wanted to help my people. I don’t know why every creature within a thousand miles is trying to stop me.”

“If he took you, how did you escape?”

“I didn’t. I asked him to let me go, to be able to make my own choices, and he did. Because he respects me and didn’t kidnap me on the back of a horse!” You tactfully decided to omit the original kidnapping. At least for now. You had a feeling it wouldn’t help your case.

“Please, it’s a dragon, it…”

“He! He’s a dragon! And at least he’s allowed me to make decisions.”

He reeled back. “I… you were going to get yourself killed. I couldn’t just let you get yourself killed. It isn’t right.”

“And it’s not your choice to make.”

He hung his head, helmet clanging against his chest plate.

Pytho chose then to return, his tail swishing happily as he walked. He rubbed up against your side, letting out a happy rumble as he did.

“So they let you go?” Pytho asked, ignoring the man on the floor.

“Not exactly. They were going to kill me. They wanted to make an example of me.” You couldn’t help but smile. “I can’t imagine that the example they wanted to set was getting rescued by a knight but I suppose that’s the hand they were dealt.

Pytho turned his gaze to Phillip. “You saved her?”

He nodded hesitantly.

Another pleased noise escaped Pytho. “He’s a good one. I’m glad you didn’t let me kill him.”

“About that,” you said and you watched Phillip freeze up, all of his limbs locking. You glanced at him, adding, “I said we weren’t going to hurt you, calm down. I was just going to say, Pytho, you should let him go.”

The dragon tilted his head. “Why? I like him, he’s shiny.”

You suppressed a laugh. “He’s not shiny, his armour is. It’s like clothing.”

“Oh. Why do you creatures insist on that stuff? Seems awfully restrictive.”

Phillip cut into your conversation, saying, “I can’t leave.”

You looked over at him, a wave of irritation rushing through you. “Why not?”

“I can’t leave you here with this beast.”

You had half a mind to throw something at him. “Get this through your head, I don’t need you to save me.”

“It wouldn’t be right,” he continued, undeterred.

“Fine. But I’m not untying you and risking you hurting him.”

“Fine.”

Pytho’s head swiveled between the two of you as you bickered. As the argument finally finished, he asked in a hushed tone, although still lough enough that Phillip could hear, “Does that mean we get to keep him.”

You snorted. “Guess so. It’s your lucky day.”

“It really is,” he said, voice as genuine as it could be.

The sunlight was fast fading and you knew how cold it could get in here. You had no intention of sleeping alone but you glanced at your mostly willing captive.

“Pytho?” you called out.

He turned to you immediately. “Yes? Do you need something?”

“Could you go get some wood?”

“Of course I can,” he said, already speeding off.

When he returned, he had a whole tree in his mouth and another in his talons, dirt still clinging to their roots.

You bent over laughing as he dropped them both in front of you, tail swishing behind him. They’d barely fit through the mouth of the cave, filling up a significant amount of the room and knocking over at least one pile of gold in the meantime.

You got to work snapping off some of the more reasonably sized branches, having Pytho move the trees back outside as you finished.

You set them up a few feet away from Phillip, far enough away that he’d be safe but could still feel the warmth.

“You can breathe fire right?” you called back to Pytho. It would be unfortunate if he couldn’t because you did not have the proper tools to start one here.

He nodded, visibly eager. “Do you need one?”

“Just on the sticks here. Make sure not to burn anyone,” you said, nearing Phillip to ensure that he didn’t forget there was a person inside of the shiny armour and cook him.

With a quick and surprisingly controlled burst of flame, the pile of sticks turned into a quaint little fire.

You gave Phillip a pat on the shoulder as you headed over to Pytho. “Goodnight. Have fun sleeping in full armour.”

He didn’t respond.

You left the fire behind to go curl up with Pytho. No fire could compare to his warm scales, of that you were certain.

A happy rumble escaped him and ran through you as you leaned against him.

He spoke in hushed tones, face right in front of yours as his tail curled around you. “I can’t believe you came back.”

“I shouldn’t have,” you said, giving him a quick kiss on his snout. “But I think I realized I didn’t really want to be anywhere else.”

His head leaned into your touch immediately, a wistful look in his eyes.

“I wish I could do that.”

“What, kiss me?” you asked with a laugh. “Well, how do dragons kiss?”

Without another word he licked a long stripe up the side of your face, leaving a sticky residue behind.

You giggled as you felt his spit on your cheek. “Well, my way is definitely less messy.”

He let out a noise that sounded almost like a purr, resting his head in your lap. “I like it your way.”

You hummed quietly and you wished he could feel it reverberating through his body the way you did for him. You curled happily into warm scales, surrounded by an overwhelming sense of safety, and fell asleep in your new home.

The next morning, you realized you had no idea how to tell if Phillip was awake or not. He could have escaped and left only his empty armour behind and it would be impossible to tell.

What you did know was that he hadn’t eaten.

Pytho still had some slightly stale bread from your last stay here and you’d brought in all of Phillip’s supplies. You grabbed some dried meat and the freshest of the bread that you could find, heading over to him.

“Good morning,” you said, hoping he could hear you.

He shifted, just barely, to turn to you. It seemed like the most positive reaction you could hope for.

“Okay, you need to eat. Here, just let me.” You went to lift his helm but paused as he flinched away from your hand.

“Please don’t.” His voice was low and shaky.

You backed off, keeping your hands up and away from him. “Okay,” you said, “But you do need to eat.”

There wasn’t any other way to do it. You reached behind him, pressed close to him as you untied his hands. As you struggled with the knots, you felt his breath hitch in his chest.

After a few moments, you pulled away from the newly freed knight, rope in hand. “Tada.”

He froze once more, something you were getting used to, and just stared down at the rope for a minute, flexing his hands by his sides.

With no warning, he grabbed the food you’d gathered for him and stood on shaky legs, giving you a small nod before he headed out toward the mouth of the cave. It was near where the animals were being kept, tied up to some golden pillar near the front. If he wanted to, he could leave here and now.

You waited patiently for him, avoiding looking in his direction, even if you were sure he’d gone far enough that you wouldn’t be able to see him.

He quickly returned, fast enough that he must have scarfed down his food.

He presented his hands to you and it took a second to realize he was waiting to be tied up again.

You scoffed, looking at him dubiously. “Is that really necessary?” It seemed silly to tie him up again after that.

His hands stayed out and you rolled your eyes as you grabbed the rope.

You tied them in front of him this time, taking much less care with the knots as you did.

“Where are you a knight of?” you asked as you pulled the knot taut. “I see no insignias anywhere on you. That doesn’t seem normal.”

“My kingdom is long gone, m’lady.”

“Still so respectful, even after everything I’ve put you through. Well, sir knight, how can you be a knight with no kingdom to serve?”

His head cocked to the side as if baffled by the question. “I know nothing else.”

You paused a moment before asking. “How long have you been doing this?”

He remained ever impossible to read, although that never stopped you from trying. After a long, stoic pause, he simply shrugged and said, “I’ve lost track of the years.”

“And so what? No kingdom to speak of, you just keep fighting?”

“I do what I’ve always done.” Like it was as simple as that.

“Don’t you get tired?”

“I never have the time.”

“Well, sir knight, I think you were just about due for some rest anyways.”

He didn’t respond, the helmet following you as you left him.

He was so stoic. You weren’t sure how it was easier to get a read on a dragon than a man but somehow he’d managed it.

Anything other than silent staring began to feel out of place.

“M’lady,” Phillip called out. You turned, confused. It wasn’t like him to start a conversation.

“Yeah?”

“Where is my sword?” he asked.

You’d forgotten he was unconscious for that. “Oh. I threw it off the mountain.”

“You what? Why?”

Pytho chimed in immediately. “I can get it.”

You shifted between him and the entrance to the cave as quickly as you could. “No, you will not.”

“Why?” asked Phillip.

“What do you mean why? You tried to kill him.”

“I won’t attack him unprovoked.”

“You already did attack him unprovoked.”

“I didn’t have all the information. For that, I am truly sorry, sir.”

Pytho’s chest puffed up at the title. “You are forgiven. And I am sorry that I almost destroyed you.”

That caused Phillip to reel back a little. “You did not. I can best a dragon easily, I almost slit your throat.”

Pytho huffed and you smelled a bit of smoke on his breath. “You did not.”

“Okay,” you said, cutting in. “You’re both very dangerous. I’d still love it if we could keep the sword where it is.”

Phillip nodded. “I understand your hesitancy.”

He said it tied up on the floor. Despite not having a weapon, despite his promise not to try and hurt Pytho, despite the fact that you'd already untied him so he could eat.

“This is stupid,” you said, pacing up to him and immediately setting to work on the knots and ignoring his quiet noises in protest.

It didn’t take long to undo them, you’d put barely any effort into tying them in the first place.

“We have to free you so you can eat anyway, I don’t understand your obsession with this little performance.”

Phillip froze, still holding his hands together despite the lack of rope.

“What should I do?” he asked you quietly.

You threw the rope to the side. “That’s up to you.”

It took him hours before he was even willing to stand from his spot on the floor.

His movements were all colored by hesitation. You understood. The freedom made staying a choice. And even when he managed to stand, to move from his corner, he stayed.

He stuck to his corner as often as he could, but nonetheless, he stayed. Watching him sleep alone in the cold, you were certain that this was how Pytho had felt every night when you froze your ass off far away from him.

You both lit the fire for him every night. Pytho has started running off to get wood without you even asking, even if the trees that remained outside left you with enough wood to last years.

His armour got lighter as time passed, forgoing pieces from time to time. No matter what, the helmet stayed. It felt like a part of him, like you could imagine there possibly being a man under there.

He was adjusting to the newfound freedom about as well as you’d expected.

With every small sign of growing comfort, something else went wrong.

A few days after his freeing, while Pytho was out gathering more food for the two of you to eat, you heard him muttering in the corner.

You drifted closer and he paid you no mind. You couldn’t make out any words but you could tell it was frantic.

“Phillip,” you said softly, doing your best not to startle him. “Are you alright?”

You had no idea if you’d frightened him, he remained entirely unreadable. All except for his hands. He had foregone his gloves and much of the armour on his arms and you watched as he nervously fidgeted, threatening his fingers together, cracking his knuckles absentmindedly, his hands never staying still for more than a moment.

“I’m wasting time here,” he said. “I have things to do. I have a duty to this land.”

You knew it was near impossible to get through to him but you couldn’t help the urge to try. “It’s a waste to rest?”

“It is. I need to go, need to continue on.”

You sat beside him, as close as you could get without touching. “You should take me back home on your way. I’ve got a duty too, you know.”

His head fell back. Metal against stone sent a clanging noise echoing across the walls. “That’s different. You were brainwashed.”

“I wasn’t. The monsters are real you know. I’ve seen them. We all do, every year. I really would have been saving them. Whatever girl they chose instead of me really did save them. Maybe you don’t think it’s right. That’s fine. It’s an important duty nonetheless.”

“It’s not the same. I’m not being marched to my death.”

“People will still need saving in a week, in a year, in a century. There’s no real, final end to it. There has to be ends to it for you. Little ones. There just has to be.”

His head was turned towards you and you squirmed, feeling like you were being studied.

Finally, he said, “It upsets you.”

“What?”

“That I never stop. That upsets you?”

You nodded. “It does.”

“I can stand tiny ends to it. To ease your mind.”

A sad laugh escaped you. “I’d rather you did it for you.”

“That’s the best I can do right now. You’re the same, aren’t you?”

And you supposed you were. “I can’t go back. I can’t do that to him. Or to you, I guess.”

A small laugh escaped him, a noise you weren’t sure you’d ever heard from him before. “You guess. I’ll take it.”

Pytho returned, entering the cave a little too quickly and knocking one of his piles of treasure over. He dropped a cart in front of you, this one with boxes of pastries covering it.

“The humans seemed to love this one,” he said with his disarming, open-mouthed grin.

“Who are you taking those from?” Phillip asked incredulously, and you were almost certain you could hear a smile in his voice.

You grabbed something that looked chocolatey and when you felt that it was still warm you almost sobbed. “I don’t care who he’s taking it from,” you said, taking a massive bite of it. “This is the best thing I’ve ever eaten.”

You scarfed down three pastries, offering a small piece to Pytho, just so he could taste it. He spat it back out, questioning how you could ever eat something like that.

And then you remembered your stoic knight, still sitting beside you, just watching you eat, and a sense of guilt overtook you.

“I’m sorry,” you said and he perked up as you addressed him. “You know, I could turn around or we could close our eyes. We wouldn’t have to see anything. So we could eat together.”

You didn’t wait for an answer, didn’t wait for him to politely refuse, instead turning around and signaling for Pytho to do the same. You shut your eyes, just for good measure, as you leaned against the dragon.

The quiet thud of the helmet being set on the floor made your heart swell.

As you took another bite of a pastry, this one filled with a beautiful lemon cream, he slid his hand into your open one and ate behind you, slower than he’d ever eaten before.

Even if it was for you, you hoped he enjoyed it.

And still, no matter how much progress you made, every night he still slept in that goddamn corner.

You were glad Pytho curled up around you at night because then at least you couldn't see him, sad and alone next to his fire, away from the two of you.

You knew Pytho could tell it bothered you. He always did his best to distract you, pull all of your attention to him. He’d gotten pretty good at it.

He was nuzzling into your side, pulling giggles from you as he gave you a big, slobbery kiss on your face.

“What are dragon kisses for?” you asked.

“What?”

“I’m just curious. Humans kiss their kids, their partners, their parents, all sorts of people they love. Dragon kisses don’t feel like something you can do as casually as a kiss on the cheek.”

Pytho perked up immediately. “You love me?”

You pressed a kiss into his cheek. “Of course I do.”

He purred at you as he answered your question. “Well, dragon kisses are just for mates. We aren’t an overly affectionate species.”

“Could’ve fooled me. You know, maybe you can’t kiss like a human but I could kiss like a dragon.”

He tilted his head and you decided to take the gesture as a challenge.

You opened your mouth and licked a broad stripe up the side of his face. His scales tasted ashy and were incredibly smooth against your tongue.

A wave of heat passed through him as you did, a deep guttural sound escaping him.

You pulled back, trying to get a better look at him.

“What was that?” you asked quietly.

He ducked his head down in a poor attempt to hide from you. “Nothing. It was nothing.”

Something clicked in your head. “Hold on. You said dragons only kiss their mates.”

He nodded hesitantly.

“You kiss me all the time though.”

He whined again, his tail moving away from you and curling in front of him. “I’m sorry. I know it’s strange, I know you’re human, I can't help it. You're so soft and nice and I love you so much…”

As his words got more frantic you kissed his snout again, shushing him. “You should’ve told me. If I’d known my big, strong dragon wanted me maybe I could’ve done something about it sooner.”

You practically watched his eyes glaze over, head tucking into your chest as he purred more.

You gave him all the kisses you could, peppering them along his head wherever you could reach. After about a dozen, you decided to try another dragon one, licking along his jaw.

You were flipped and pinned under him in a second, looking up at a ravenous face. His wings were folded over the two of you, blocking you from the outside world. In here, it was just the two of you.

You couldn’t be happier.

“Please, let me see you,” he hissed and you struggled to get your clothes off as quickly as you could. You kicked your pants off and they got caught on your ankles, spurring on a minor giggling fit, feeling absolutely giddy.

And he just watched, perfectly content to stare down at you as you waged a minor battle against your clothes, desperate to get your bare skin against his.

As you lay below him, finally fully naked, you didn’t feel shy or self-conscious. It felt right, the two of you, like this.

“I will never understand clothes,” he informed you. “Why would you ever cover this up?”

His head shifted around, looking at every part of you he’d never gotten to see before.

As his head moved downwards, you could tell exactly when he noticed how wet you were. He stopped moving entirely, nostrils flaring and eyes locked on you.

He nosed at you and you opened your legs for him, spreading them as wide as they could go.

His tongue snaked out instantly, licking a hot stripe through your folds. Whatever he found there seemed to interest him because the next thing you knew his thick tongue was snaking deep inside of you, your walls stretching around him.

You let out a strangled cry, fighting to not snap your legs closed at how overwhelming the sensation was.

His content vibrations ran through you, causing a spark of pleasure to run up your spine.

His tongue found a spot deep inside of you that’d didn’t quite feel like the rest, rubbing against it experimentally and you slapped your hand over your mouth, trying not to scream.

It was too much. You’d never felt anything like this before.

His jaw was cracked open over your stomach, his impossibly long tongue reaching as far into you as it could go.

His tongue slowly withdrew from you and you didn’t know whether to beg for him to keep going or take your reprieve from the overwhelming sensation while you could.

You noticed his hips shifting and glanced down. Your heart skipped a beat.

He was massive, probably a foot long.

“That’s not going to fit,” you whispered.

The dragon shook his head. “No, I would never try. You’re too small, it would break you. I wouldn’t hurt you.”

“What about you?” you asked, feeling bad you couldn’t reciprocate.

“I have everything I need,” he said, nuzzling into your chest once more. “But if you want someone your size, we could always ask for help.”

Your face heated as you realized what he was implying. To be honest, you’d entirely forgotten Phillip was there, too caught up in what you were doing. Oh god, he’d probably heard everything.

Pytho lifted his wings as you looked at Phillip, who had turned to face the wall.

“I am so sorry,” you called out, embarrassment washing over you.

He turned to you slowly and you prepared to get yelled at.

Instead, his voice came out breathy and strained. “Do you want me to help?”

Your heart skipped a beat as you stared back at him. “I do.

He moved towards the pair of you. “I live to serve”

You wanted to kiss him. You wanted so badly to kiss him and you just couldn’t.

So instead you made do, grabbing his hand and pulling him towards you. He fell next to you, both of you leaning against Pytho.

He froze a little as your hands neared his helmet and you whispered, “Trust me.”

He untensed, although you could sense his anxiety.

You grasped the side of his helmet slowly, tilting it gently to the side to reveal a sliver of his neck. You moved towards it, taking all the self-control you had to go slowly.

He shivered as you neared him, your breath ghosting over his skin.

You started gently, pressing soft kisses into his skin.

Before long you wanted more, nipping at his neck and sucking marks into it as he let out little whines. You could feel his throat move as he swallowed, could feel his muscles tense as you moved.

Eventually, he pulled you away from him and you looked up at him, wide-eyed.

“Um…” he said, his voice shaky and high. “If you do want me to… to help. You need to stop doing that.

You smiled, resting your forehead on his helm. “If you insist.”

The way you’d pulled at his clothes, shifting his shirt out of the way, meant you could see as he gulped.

His hand hovered inches over your hip, as if afraid to touch you. You covered it with your own, pressing it onto bare skin.

You didn’t mind his staring so much now. You could feel the waves of awe coming off of him as his hands gently slid up and down your sides.

You hooked your fingers into the front of his pants and pulled him closer to you.

“Please,” you asked.

He didn’t bother taking his pants off, instead pulling them down just enough to get his dick out, already painfully hard.

Pytho’s tongue had more than prepared you and Phillip seemed like if someone breathed on him wrong he might come so you wasted no time, pulling him over to you.

Pytho sat there, watching as Phillip pushed inside of you. He was painfully slow, groaning with every inch.

Your walls fluttered as his hand pressed tentatively down on your clit and he had to stop entirely, breathing slowly.

“Do you know how hard it was,” he gasped out as he buried himself fully inside of you, unmoving. “Hearing all that and not touching myself. It felt like torture.

You could feel Pytho shifting behind you, molding himself against your back as you saw his hips twitch, grinding against nothing.

You opened your mouth to speak when your words were cut off with a sharp thrust.

Phillip gripped your hips so hard you were worried it might bruise in the morning. You couldn’t bring yourself to care.

He slowly found his rhythm, desperately trying to pull you impossibly closer as he thrusted inside of you.

You felt something hard against your back, moving as Phillip slammed inside of you again. And then, as if sharing one mind, you felt a sticky substance coat your back just as Phillip gave you one final, hard thrust, groaning as he came inside of you.

As soon as Phillip pulled out, Pytho rushed to snake his tongue back inside of you. It was so dexterous, pressing up perfectly inside of you as he tasted both you and Phillip.

Phillips fingers intertwined with yours as your back arched and you felt waves of pleasure run through you. Pytho seemed intent on working you through it, his tongue moving steadily until you could take it anymore.

You pushed at his head and he lifted it, mouth slick and eyes looking just as dazed as you felt.

You were all gross and sticky and you’d never been happier in your life.

Phillip snorted. “I was supposed to kill you.”

“Plans change,” you said.

“You never could have killed me,” Pytho declared and you couldn’t help but smile as their argument began again.

You woke up in a tangle of limbs. Your head was tucked into Phillip's chest, his arms wrapped around you with just the tip of Pytho’s tail betwixt you. You were both entirely surrounded by him, curled up protectively around you.

Pytho had to take both of you down to the nearest lake to get clean the next morning. He sat patiently at the edge of the pond as both of you washed off the mess from the night before.

Phillip helped you clean, scrubbing your back and running his fingers gently through your hair as you both stood in the waist-deep water.

You’d had the good sense to remove your clothes but Phillip had to clean his along with himself, standing in the water in his pants, shirt, and that helmet.

It seemed a little silly but you wouldn’t bother him over it. It would come in due time. Or maybe it wouldn’t and honestly, you didn’t think you would mind.

Pytho was content watching the two of you, occasionally shifting his tail to splash water at you, a favor you returned to him readily.

As the cleaning finished and the three of you sat on the shore, drying off, Phillip braided your hair as you both leaned against your warm dragon.

You were curious where he’d learned it but scared to ask, to remind him of anything other than this perfect moment.

He did not seem to understand how precious and fragile this moment was, breaking the silence by saying, “I can’t stay here,” and shattering everything.

You looked at him with panicked eyes and Pytho hid his head under his wing.

“What?”

His next words came slower, more gently. “I think we’ve made a little home here. I do. But I can’t just stay.”

You nodded. You understood. “Neither can I. You’re going off adventuring again, right?”

He nodded and you immediately added, before you could lose your nerve. “I want to come.”

“It’s going to be dangerous,” he said, his voice not commanding but instead cautious and worried.

“Please. I need to do something, to help someone. I feel like I’ve got a debt on my back. I can’t let it hang over me like this forever.”

He went to protest but you stopped him. “I don’t care what you think, I can’t live with it. Please.”

He nodded. “First, we’re going to need to find my sword.”

You gave him an apologetic smile. “I’m sure it won’t be too hard.”

“And we can’t come back every night,” he continued. “You’re going to have to spend days on the road. You sure that’s what you want?”

You rolled your eyes. “I think I can manage for a few days.”

Pytho lifted his head from where he was hiding it. “Come back? You said you can’t stay?”

It took a second to understand what he could possibly be asking. The idea of leaving him forever was so inconceivable to you that you hadn’t realized what this must have looked like.

You rushed over to him, kissing his forehead. “No, I’m not leaving you. Neither of us are. We just…I just can’t stay in a cave for the rest of my life.”

“People will still need helping,” Phillip chimed in, standing behind you. “I won’t ever stop doing this. It’s what I was made to do. But it's been too long. I think it was about time I found a home to come back to.”

You smiled at him as you leaned into your dragon’s side. “I think it was.”

#terato #terato writing #monster x reader #monster x human #monster boyfriend #monster bf #dragon x reader #dragon boyfriend #dragon #dragon bf #The cws on this are wild #Phillip’s armour set up is a little wonky compared to most real armour #I attribute this to his accursed knight status #Definitely not just for narrative ease #I would never #also I came up with this idea and then wrote the whole thing in like 6 days #Everyone say thank you ducky #lol

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starmosaics · 1 month ago

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Many Rohinis are known for being in the public eye and having an infectious presence— whether it’s good or bad, eyes are on them, but from my observations and my own personal experience along with having loved ones with Rohini placements, most of us feel like we’re playing a part.

You can find Rohinis sometimes unknowingly play into someone’s projections or fantasies of them, other times they’re entirely aware. This may leave the Rohini native feeling alone and misunderstood because of their tendency to show people what they want to see, not who they actually are within. I feel like people tend to have this “idea” about Rohinis that can be so far off from the reality that at times the Rohini native may unconsciously absorb whatever that idea of them is. The Moon is receptive meaning it is constantly receiving stimuli and is sensitive to its environment; it can be easily influenced. Rohinis also receive a lot of passivity, jealousy and anger from people when they don’t match that person’s idea of them. However you perceive a Rohini to be, in worst cases the Rohini can mirror it back to you as we know the Moon reflects.

Marilyn Monroe for example had a Rohini Sun and was either loved or totally loathed by the public and had this reputation for being this beautiful and sensual actress. She often publicly portrayed herself as this innocent woman with a teasing presence that made men go crazy for her, yet she had a very sorrowful and vulnerable side that not many people got to see.

She was known for something called “The Marilyn Monroe Effect” where she would alter herself into a persona which caught people’s eyes. Essentially, Marilyn was wearing a mask. She was a character perceived as a sex symbol by the male gaze.

In her journal entries, Marilyn wrote about loneliness. Bette Davis also said she could sense Marilyn’s loneliness when asked about the actress as she and Marilyn starred in a film together.

Another example is Rohini Sun Priscilla Beaulieu who was 14 when she met her future husband Elvis Presley who was significantly older than her. She was heavily idealized by Elvis and was deemed to have an innocence that Elvis favored. Elvis claimed that he could “train her anyway he wanted.” He ended up doing exactly that; molding her into his fantasy wife, treating her as if she was a doll. He made her dress a certain way, he made her wear makeup and told her to dye her hair and she willingly did out of love for Elvis to embody being “the perfect wife”. Once again, here’s an example of a Rohini playing a role and being shaped by those surrounding them. She also had a lot of Elvis’ fans show disdain towards her as she was dating one of the biggest stars at the time.

In the 2023 film “Priscilla” directed by Sofia Coppola, based on Priscilla’s book “Elvis and Me”, it dives into Priscilla’s backstory. The director perfectly depicts how lonely Priscilla was standing beside Elvis. Many of the scenes within this film show Priscilla being alone in a large empty house.

Rohinis often put their best foot forward to show the world and those they love much like Marilyn and Priscilla did and as a Rohini Sun myself, I can heavily relate. It would make sense for people with this nakshatra in their charts to do such since Rohini is Lunar in nature and the Moon has a mysterious and deep side; being selective as to what you present to the masses (Moon rules masses). There’s a very soft, vulnerable and somewhat melancholic side of Rohini that they possess.

It’s a very vulnerable thing to unmask and show the real and raw unfiltered self when you’re idealized by others or expected to show up a certain way, and it can be a very isolating feeling to not feel understood by anybody which is a very familiar phenomenon to those with Rohini placements. When people don't grasp your nature, thoughts and feelings, it can create a profound sense of isolation, making you feel alone even when surrounded by others, which is what I meant by in an earlier post about how Rohinis may feel alone in a room full of people. To be unknown or misunderstood is to be lonely.

#rohini #nakshatra #rohini nakshatra #astrology #astro notes #astro observations #astro community #vedic astro observations #vedic astro notes #vedic astrology #vedic #m

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kakashixhatakesxwhore · 8 months ago

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hc/short story/blurb?? for shino with a girl that specializes on plant jutsu? I like thinking of them as sort of like in nature. (I had to look it up lol) mutualism! 🌱🪲

Also whenever shino (attempts) to talk, she takes all of it in. When shino’s not around, she notices and remembers him. Shino and her go back and forth about all sorts of stuff; she asks about Shino’s bugs and his favorites and she actually listens. Shino finally reciprocates and asks about her plants and all that.

She vibes well with most of the teams though so she’s got friend groups up the wazoo. Shino’s petty as fuck so I’m getting some jealous vibes from him too. But he shouldn’t feel that way over someone he’s not even in a relationship with, he thinks…. Not with the first person that’s actually remembered him, no……

(Also, shino’s canonically packing so do with that as you will, my friend. I just need something for our beloved bug boy.)

this request had me in a chokehold for two whole days - i really ran with this, it's pretty long, but sets up well for the last part of your request - i hope this hits your marks, thank you for the request!!

The Art of Mutual Growth

Pairing: Shino x f!Reader

Summary: Shino meets his perfect match while on a mission, and he quickly finds out that his solitude was dust, compared to the castle of your company.

W/c: 4.3k

Warnings: Swearing, talk of suicide (Shino's terribly dramatic about you), self-loathing

Notes: i was imagining Shino a few years post Blank Period in this, but this could work for Boruto era Shino too if y'all are in to that top knot - if you want a smuttier part 2, i got that shit lined right up, just lmk

Masterlist💿

He was used to being overlooked, discounted, alone. It never bothered him - even in love, his parents were solitary people, raising him to be unbothered by a sullen lack of attention. Being left to his own devices, Shino turned to his bugs for solace, and they provided as much as they could. To his knowledge, he was perfectly happy, alone with his insects.

But then you danced into his life, a trail of flowers in your wake.

You were his perfect match; a woman who could use Plant Release technique. Your kekkei tota was a gift of your Kiso blood, but too powerful for you to ever have full control over. Still, your control was wildly impressive, and your technical fighting skills were more precise than any Shino had seen before. Unlike him, you hailed from the Land of Flowers, but you couldn't reveal any further personal details at the time. It was a shame that the mission that brought you to Shino didn't allow him the time he so desperately needed to talk to you.

Side by side, you and he had fought together. Your snaking vines fed Shino's bugs chakra, and allowed them to infiltrate places on your vines with a much greater speed and accuracy than they ever could when Shino was alone. His bugs found your chakra delicious, almost as distracted as he was by you and your power. The recon mission went without hitch, mainly thanks to your immense amount of pure chakra and will to prove your capabilities. It was a shame.

Upon the mission's completion, Shino merely listened to your cracking conversation with Kiba and Shikamaru, resigned to the fact that he had missed his chance, already moving on in his mind.

When the team returned to the Hidden Leaf, Shino was ready to be the first to leave, already peeling away from the group until...

"I'm sorry," your sweet voice said timidly, behind Shino.

He stopped in his tracks, and you did as well, staying right behind him. The bugs' chakra told him you seemed nervous, which arguably relaxed him. Clipped, he asked, "What for?"

"We never got the chance to get to know each other," you grinned, coming around Shino to face him with a placid smile. Extending your hand, you gave him your name, and with a charm to your tone, asked for his.

Clearing his throat, Shino couldn't find his voice for a second. He had never seen such a pretty smile, let alone been the receiver of one. Your bubbly attitude caught him off guard. He couldn't fathom what you were doing, why you would be wasting your time, talking to him. You could've stayed with the team, striking up any number of conversations with one of them... but you didn't. You chose to talk to him.

"Shino Aburame," he said finally, taking your warm hand in his.

"You're wonderfully strong, Shino," you hummed, shaking his hand slightly. "The chakra control you possess is to be envied. I'd love to know more about your insects, if you have the time."

Staring the gift horse right in the mouth, he scoffed, "You must be joking."

"No." The expression you wore quickly became confused, but your tone genuinely despondent. With a twitch, you let go of his hand and Shino could feel his heart plummet. "No, I'm sorry. I didn't mean to-"

From behind, Kiba's strong voice cut you off. "Hey, Y/n! Wanna take a tour of Konoha?" He came bounding up to the pair of you, Akamaru by his side, stealing your attention from Shino. "I'm free to be your guide, unless...you two..."

Looking back at Shino for a moment, you seemed to mull something over thoroughly in your mind. Your eyes were full of expectation, and Shino could feel his palms dampen.

"Go with him," Shino said, as casually as he could, though his words came out rather harshly.

He wished he could take it back as soon as he said it. The feeling that came when he saw a sharp sparkle in your eye, followed by an overbearing dullness, made Shino feel empty and so very stupid. Your lips drew straight, and your air became serious - everything about you became stony, frigid. The exact opposite of your demeanour before Shino had opened his stupid mouth.

Maintaining eye contact with Shino as you took Kiba up on his offer, he could feel his heart leap from his chest and into your palm. You squeezed it then, and when he watched you walk away with Kiba and his ninken, you crushed it.

In the aftermath of the successful recon mission, you were invited by the Fifth Hokage to stay in Konoha and train under her. You took her up, of course, and became an active member of the society within the Hidden Leaf. Everywhere Shino went, there you would be, talking to swarms of people at a time.

It was Promethean punishment, that he didn't deserve.

You would never speak to him again, because he was born with his foot in his mouth. He would be cursed to see you everywhere he turned, but you would never speak to him again.

A week had passed since you came to Konoha to stay. Shino had been tantalized, shown exactly what he wanted but couldn't have, for seven days, and he was sick to death. His solitude had never felt so solitary, watching you bop around the village with an onslaught of people.

It was made even worse by the fact that he had consistently been catching you, staring at him. The bugs would be abuzz, begging Shino to ask you to sprout one of your vines, telling him that you looked ready to approach him, yourself. He ignored then dually, thinking they were exaggerating your apparent willingness to speak to him. Why would you ever leave a full entourage, just to speak to him?

With the sun sinking lowly over Hokage Mountain, Shino decided to wrap up his meditation and just go home. His body was alight with energy, but his soul begged for rest and reprieve, something that Shino could not provide. As such, he left the sanctity of his neck of the woods to make a medial dinner and have a long sleep. Maybe that would fix him, though it hadn't seemed to work for the last week. Shino felt restless, completely unable to settle in a way that even resembled himself before you came along.

He would just have to get over you. The chance you served up on a silver platter had been spit on, and you would surely never serve it again. Shino had to move onward and upward, he couldn't stagnate.

But then-

There you were. In his hallway. In front of a door. Fiddling with your keys and hissing curses under your breath.

And all Shino could think was, I am going to make her my wife. I need to marry this woman.

"Hi."

You looked up, startled, but quickly smiled and looked back at your keys, still pulling and shoving. Slowly, you said, "Hey...Shino, right?"

He had never heard his name like that before. It dripped with silver and gold as it left your pretty lips, and Shino never wanted anyone else to say his name again. Only you. Only you, forever.

Looking up at his lack of response, you seemed nervous but tried to smile. "You're my bug boy, aren't you?"

"Yes," he said a little too quickly. The nervousness vanished from your expression as embarrassment became his. He cleared his throat, trying again, "Yeah. That's me. Shino."

She remembered. Her bug boy. Her's. She knows. I need to make her mine. Someway, somehow.

"I didn't think I knew anyone in the building," you said, finally procuring the key you wanted from the tangle. You slipped it into your door, the smiled at Shino, the nervousness coming back to you. In a light voice, you asked, "Would you...would you like to come in? Have a tea? With me?"

Shino thought he had died and gone to Heaven. There was no other plausible reason for him to have been getting another opportunity with you, this one infinitely more golden than the last.

The lock clicked and you opened the door, still awaiting his answer. A rush of cool air came over Shino, standing near your door. Leaning back, Shino tried to bite back his forming grin, before saying,

"I would like that very much."

You mumbled something under your breath and stepped into the apartment. Shino followed in after you, welcomed by the scent of lavender and rosemary. As you let him look around the living room, you went to the kitchen to prepare the tea.

Shino had never seen such a beautiful little place, especially not one that reflected it's inhabitant so well. Plants sprawled across every wall, their pots interconnected through a series of braided vines that wrapped and weaved around the others. All of the wooden things in the apartment were birch, the coffee table, the bookshelves, the chairs. To boot, all of the pillows and cushions were a pale, dusty green colour. Books and journals laid all over, accompanied by a myriad weapons and solo-practice materials. The feeling of peace was abundant in the small apartment, Shino found himself actually start to relax.

So, he would be letting you decorate the house when you eventually became his wife. This was useful information to Shino.

"Sencha or matcha?" You asked him, poking your head out of the kitchen.

You cared. "Sencha."

"Okay, give me another minute." You ducked back into the kitchen, your hair flowing so nicely behind you.

Feeling his bugs growing anticipatory, he began to try and suppress them. The last thing Shino wanted right now was for his bugs to take advantage of your hospitality. But his refusal only made them angrier. With your vines so near, it was like holding a lollipop in front of a child and saying no.

Coming back into the living room with a tea tray, you smiled at Shino, making him neglect his control over the bugs. Almost immediately, a swarm of insects came from Shino's body and flocked to the nearest vine before Shino could do anything about it. He swore and started trying to wrangle them, only stopping when he heard your melodic laugh.

He never wanted to hear anything else again. Not even the way you said his name could compare to your laughter - no sweeter sound had ever been produced.

"I don't mind, Shino, let them be," you hummed, setting the tray onto the table almost silently. Shino turned to you slowly, unsure if you were just letting your hospitality speak for you. You laughed, "It's fine. I promise."

"Whatever you say," Shino replied faintly, still not convinced but not willing to argue with you for even a second.

He came around to the couch as you picked up the jade teapot and poured both cups. He thanked you, taking up his teacup while you sat down on the couch. Sipping the steaming beverage, Shino hummed,

"This might be the best tea I've ever had."

"I'm glad," you grinned, sipping your tea before patting the cushion beside you. "Sit with me. Please."

Without hesitation, Shino sat on the furthest edge of the couch, giving you the space you deserved. You just giggled softly, collecting your legs onto the couch and shifting your entire body to face Shino. He smiled absentmindedly, heart thumping inside of his chest.

"So, I have to ask," you started. Shino turned more toward you, giving you his full attention. "Why did you get all aggro when I asked you about your bugs, the other day?"

Oh. No. No, this wasn't what he wanted. No.

"It...erm, it was... I don't..." Stars above, wasn't he pathetic? Couldn't even speak to the only person he wanted to speak to. He sighed deeply, "It wasn't the bugs, I just... I thought you were making fun of me when... when you... you know...?"

Furrowing your eyebrows as he blathered, you looked at Shino like he was crazy. He had never had so much trouble stringing together a sentence, and he didn't even finish the thought. The silence that followed was thick and heavy, just making Shino feel worse about his inability to talk to you.

"When I complimented your chakra and your control?" You asked finally. Shino nodded, just thankful that you spoke and he didn't have to. To his surprise, you smiled that sweet smile of yours and asked, "Why?"

"Who are you? The police?"

"Oh, n-no... I'm sorry."

Fuck, he could've killed himself. Only Shino Aburame could make a joke that wipes the smile off of your face. It was his voice, it wasn't jovial enough. No, it was his face, he looked too mean. No, no, it was his brain.

"No, I'm sorry," Shino sighed, setting his cup on the coffee table before rubbing his eyes under his sunglasses. "It's the fact that you're as powerful as you are... and I'm not..."

"We don't have to talk about that."

Letting a short chuckle fall from his lips, Shino looked at you from the side of his glasses, getting a fully coloured vision of you in his peripheral. He took a breath, then felt a small bubble of laughter as he asked,

"Then what do you want to talk about?" He sipped his tea, letting it warm his hands. "I'm a much better listener than talker, if you haven't caught on."

"I could've guessed." Narrowing his eyes, though you couldn't see them, Shino turned his head to you slowly. You laughed freely, "I talk too much as it is. I've got some innate need to chew the air. Aren't we a lovely pair?"

The church bells ringing, everyone's chatter falling to a hush as the organ begins-

"Hm, you've got such a nice voice, Shino - it's a pity you want to deprive me of it."

And here you are, coming down the aisle, right into his arms.

"W-what do you want me to say?" He asked quickly, chomping at the bit to make you happy. He didn't even have the mind to question your sentiment, just elated that it existed.

You sipped your tea, saying, "Tell me about your bugs."

"You're not making this easy for someone born to be a mute," he joked, watching your reaction intensely. Shino prayed his tone was humorous, that the small smile on his lips would support him.

And, to his joy, you laughed. Warm and rich, each soundwave landed on Shino's ear like a butterfly's kiss. You hummed, "I'm sorry-"

"And, please, stop apologizing to me - you haven't had a thing to be sorry for," he added.

"Okay," you said softly, looking at Shino with a matching expression. "Who's your favourite, then?"

That was a hard question for Shino to answer, especially given the bugs were in the room. But they were distracted, and so was he - both parties too under your influence to care.

Shino was still stumbling over his words and forgetting the most important ones, but you remained patient and attentive. It seemed you either were enchanted by his voice, or you were genuinely interested in what he had to say. Either way, Shino felt confidence bloom within him, and he started launching into great detail about his insects.

With rapt attention, you listened to every word that came from his mouth. Here and there, you would interject valid questions into the lulls of his speech, and he would answer them fully. As the two of you gradually finished the entire teapot, Shino found himself talking, and talking, and talking. He suddenly couldn't shut up.

"Fuckin' pot's empty," you grumbled, letting the final drop drip into Shino's half-full cup. "Want me to put on another, or do you fancy something else?"

"It's getting late, and I've already taken up enough of your time," he declined politely, finishing off the swig in his cup.

You sighed, "You say that like I've not been enjoying myself over the last-" Glancing at your watch, you gasped, "-three hours. Jumping Jehovah, I'm so sorry, I totally sucked up your night under the guise of tea."

"I would've just been sitting around, wanting to talk to you anyway," Shino chuckled lowly, feeling rather bold after having spent so much time with you.

Both of you stood from the couch with bashful smiles, each too shy to look at the other. Shino walked to your door and you followed after him.

"Do you want me to walk you to your door?"

He laughed lightly, "I don't expect that of you, but I'd have to be insane to turn down your company."

Opening the door wide, Shino motioned for you to go through. You thanked him kindly, then walked beside him in the hallway, five whole paces, to his door.

"Thank you for the tea, Y/n," he murmured, getting out his keys.

Your hand found purchase between his shoulder blades, making Shino freeze in his motion. His eyes darted to your face, finding the beautiful crescent of your smile in full bloom. "Anytime. We should make it a thing."

"We should."

"Goodnight, Shino."

"Goodnight, Y/n."

The breeze floated down the street with Shino. Today was the day, and it seemed even nature knew it. Nothing could slow him down, nothing could stand in his way.

Today was the day.

He had decided last night, today was going to be the day. It was an easy decision to make, but the gathering of courage tested Shino's resolve. But he was ardent, he was determined. Even if he did stutter, you would find it endearing, just like you had for the last six months. Even if he did say something wrong, you would understand, just like you always did.

Today, he was going to make you his. And he would finally be yours.

The plan was simple; show up at your door with something you would enjoy and deliver a great, long monologue that perfectly encapsulated every emotion he felt for you, then you would jump into Shino's arms and promise yourself to him.

The issues immediately became obvious; you could've hated the gift, he could've (and probably would've) screwed the monologue up to high Heaven, and, scariest of all, you might not have been so quick to jump into his arms.

Shino could have potentially been planning on destroying the only relationship that ever particularly flowed naturally for him. He didn't want to think about that, not at all.

Not when today was the day.

The act of getting you a gift turned out to be more of a tribulation than Shino had imagined it to be. Nothing was grand enough, nothing meaningful enough. He needed something that would blow your socks off, something that would reduce you to the babbling fool that he became around you.

After spending an hour scouring the market squares, Shino moved to the trading post. Even longer was spent there, looking through stalls and trying to picture your reaction to each thing that struck him. But nothing was good enough. Nothing would ever be good enough for you.

Settling on a pricey collection of teas before the trading post closed, Shino haggled with the old man selling the tea. Just trying to get the price down to the amount he had in his wallet, Shino eventually left the trading post, coatless and penniless.

It didn't matter. Today was the day.

Stars, he wondered how nerve-wracking the ring shopping would be in a few years if this little trifle was causing so much strife.

Rounding the corner of the main street, Shino mulled over what to say to you. He just wanted to say I love you and kiss you, but that left you no agency. Even though it was becoming abundantly clear that you were interested in him, Shino still wanted to give you the chance to say no.

One thing that Shino hadn't taken in to account, though, were your other relationships.

And, as you came out of a restaurant with Kiba and Akamaru, Shino realized how grave of a mistake he had made.

Your face shone with a smile, ear to ear as you laughed at some witty quip Kiba delivered. He smiled back proudly, looking at you hungrily. The three of you began to walk toward Shino and he wanted the ground to open up and swallow him whole.

"Oh! Shino!" You exclaimed brightly the second you saw him. Tearing away from Kiba and his ninken, you quickened your pace to Shino. He took a step back as you approached, otherwise frozen. Your happiness faded to worry as you asked, "Are you okay? What's wrong?"

The fact that anyone else could be graced by your laugh was wrong. The fact that you just finished what looked a lot like a date with Shino's former teammate was wrong. The fact that you didn't know what was wrong, was wrong.

"Shino, sweetheart, talk to me," you commanded gently. Kiba and Akamaru loomed a few paces behind you, trying to look like they weren't intensely listening. It aggravated Shino monumentally.

Everything about how today was becoming was aggravating him. Shino couldn't even enjoy his name on your tongue, let alone the pet name you had given him. It all felt like lip service.

"I got this for you," he said weakly, offering up the wooden box in his grasp. You looked down and cocked your eyebrow, before looking back at Shino. "I wanted to... to... nevermind." His heart was shattering. "Just take it."

Even if the gift wouldn't have the same effect, Shino wanted to see your reaction. He truly thought you would like the tea, potentially more so now that his unrequited feelings weren't attached. Cautiously, you took the box from Shino but didn't open it.

"You just wanted to what?" You asked, still so concerned over the man before you. "Where's your jacket? Shino, please, what's wrong?"

"Nothing, it's not important."

"Something is clearly bothering you, and it is important," you rebutted, acquiring a slight edge. "What's bothering you? If you don't tell me, I can't help."

Fuck.

"I love you!" He shouted, putting every single emotion he felt into his words.

Fuck.

Feeling like he was going to cry, Shino turned on his heel and walked. He didn't want your reaction now, he just wanted to save face, if that was even at all possible, at this point.

"Shino," your sweet voice said timidly, right behind him.

Stopping dead in his tracks, Shino hung his head lowly. The bugs were no help, just saying your eyes were as glossy as his.

Slowly, you came around to face Shino and bent lowly enough to be in his view. You smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile back, taking in the odd posture you assumed as you let the wooden box rest beside your feet. Everything felt so silly. So trivial.

"Yeah?"

You straightened out, making Shino's head follow you as his eyes stayed glued to your face. Your beautiful face.

"Before I make myself look stupid-" Your sentiment made Shino scoff a laugh, because no one could look more stupid than him. Sweetly, you just smiled, continuing, "Do you love me platonically, or romantically?"

He took a deep breath, blinking slowly, before answering, "Every single way under the sun."

"Good," you beamed, taking a step forward and taking the lapels of Shino's flak jacket into your hands, pulling him forward. On your toes, your face came closer to his than it ever had been before, your petal soft lips brushing against his so gently as you said, "I love you too."

Not wasting a moment, not getting in his head, Shino knew that this was it.

He leaned down, closing the small gap, and met your lips fantastically. Not even Shino's wildest, wettest dream could've prepared him for the utter decadence of your kiss. His hands found your hips, pulling you as closely as he had needed you to be for months. But it wasn't enough, for either of you.

Leaning even lower, Shino's left hand cascaded down your lower back and you got the message. Immediately, you jumped up and he caught the bottom of your thigh, squeezing your tender flesh with his left hand while his right explored your back, sitting you atop his hip bones. Your legs locked behind Shino, squishing his waist in a way he didn't know he craved so badly. Warmth exuded from your being, a warmth that Shino longed to be blanketed under and hidden within.

"Come back to my place," you said between kisses. Shino just smiled and started to walk, but then you stopped kissing him, making him stop on a dime. Running your fingers up his lapels and allowing his neck the sweet contact, you laughed, "What's in the box, if you can just leave it in the middle of the street?"

With a chuckle, Shino turned around. He noticed Kiba had left, and he felt a wave of satisfaction wash over him. Not putting you down, Shino knelt and picked up the heavy box with his right hand, holding it behind you.

You groaned, scratching his neck lightly, "My stars, you're strong."

"You never noticed?" Shino joked, though a feeling of pride surged through him.

"I've noticed you're impressive in a few different respects," you replied with a teasing lilt. Moving your hips, Shino felt a friction that was positively dream-like and you purred, "Don't you want to impress me?"

"More than anything." And he meant every syllable.

"Good," you hummed, placing a lingering kiss to Shino's lips. You looked at him, eyes more obviously filled with desire than Shino had ever thought visibly possible. "Take me home."

By his lucky stars, Shino would gladly do so for the rest of his life.

Part 2 - The Art of Mutual Pleasure

#shino aburame #shino aburame x reader #shino aburame fluff #naruto shino #shino naruto #naruto fanfiction #shino #aburame shino #aburame shino x reader #shino x reader

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the-kaedageist · 7 months ago

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I love the burgeoning friendship between Lark and Phineas - it stands out as one of the most meaningful relationships in the entire series. These two, neither of them people who can form anything even resembling a normal relationship with others, are such perfect foils for one another.

They have very little in common other than a history of childhood trauma. The first time they ever saw one another, Lark thought Phineas had murdered Sherman. The first time Phineas is aware of their meeting, he is consumed with self-loathing and thinks he’s about to die. She loathes him almost as much as he loathes himself. She tries to rid herself and Tzila of him, over and over again - and then, over and over, she listens to the Fold’s vibes and continues to follow this impulsive, ridiculous disgraced adsecla.

Somehow, from that, he becomes her greatest ally. He sneaks her into The Highest Light, hiding her even from Kozma Laszlo. He helps her disguise herself, buys her makeup, lets her stay at his shitty apartment. He brings her into the Breach with him, connecting her with a network of people who have her back - her, a loner her entire life. Together, they destroy the system that created the monsters in them both.

It’s never easy. It’s never not messy. Phineas will have always hurt Sherman and Tzila. He will always live with the damage the Trust left him with, and we know he feels the temptation to sacrifice this woman who is a symbol of the new life he’s found for the chance to regain his old, even as recently as a few episodes ago. Lark has spent her whole life learning how to keep people at a distance; she doesn’t trust easily, and Phineas has not given her particular reasons to trust him.

In the end, though, it doesn’t really matter, does it? Phineas does NOT betray her. Lark saves his life multiple times. Phineas is the physical fighter to her sorceress in the final battle. They’re two sides of a three-sided coin, perfectly matched despite the fact that they differ so greatly in history, in generation, in personality, in power itself. The Fold seems to love both of them.

Their friendship just means so much to me. It says so much about the ways that two unlikely people can form a deep connection with one another - past fury and hatred and difference and trauma - and why these relationships matter.

#midst #midst podcast #midst spoilers #midst season 3 #phineas thatch #lark midst #lark #midst meta #my meta

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mrs-snape5984 · 7 months ago

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“There is no other love, it's only yours…”

“You're all I want, all I love…” (“You’re all I want” by Cigarettes after Sex)

Yesterday I had a really rough day. It didn’t just feel like one of my regular “PEM-Crash-Days” (PEM = post-exertional malaise = the worsening of symptoms after crossing the boundaries of my condition, due to my disease ME/CFS). The whole day was also coated in a thick layer of sadness and grief…an emotional turmoil, which I could only barely endure. Well…mixing these feelings with another wave of fever and pain, seasoned with the incapacity of tolerating screen time, adding the suffocating sensation of loneliness….et voilà! The perfect recipe for a day in hell was created! 🙄

In order to cope with my emotions, I found myself drowning in my fantasies of teenage Severus and my undeniably self-inserted OC Jules…rewriting one of their short fictional scenes. Again, Severus was tormented by his own insecurities, getting carried away in self-loathing. I don’t know, how many times I’ve already written scenes like these. Jules encourages Severus to stay resilient, praising him for all those traits, which he only identifies as his flaws and weaknesses. But for Jules, there’s so much beauty, so much strength in his imperfections. She’s making his blemishes look like the most loveable attributes of Severus’ personality with her passionate speech.

When I wrote this little scene, I recognised something: I already knew, that I’m identifying myself a lot with Severus…but Jules’ words of encouragement and consolation to her beloved friend Sevy…well, they’re are also things, I would crave to hear for myself (how pathetic, huh?!). But since I’m struggling immensely with the acceptance of my own insecurities and fears, I’m not able to reassure myself of my own worth. It’s just not on the table for me!

So…I’ll just keep on telling Severus in my stories, that he deserves nothing less than the whole world…and that Jules will always try to make him feel loved and cared for. She will never stop to compare his flaws with her own weaknesses by explaining to him, how perfectly they’re matching. Jules will never grow tired to assure Severus, that his cynicism is the perfect complement to her sense of sarcasm. For the Slytherin girl, it's a clear sign for Sevy’s extremely high intellect, which is also something, that she adores about her friend. In Jules’ eyes, his bitterness mirrors a form of hypersensitivity, a characteristic, which she knows so well from herself. That’s why she’s acting so empathetically with Severus, whenever he’s suffering with his life…and Jules is convinced, that sharing those feelings will make them less unbearable! The girl even praises Severus’ stubbornness by telling him, that she’s enjoying every good and intelligent argument with him to clear the air between them. All together, Severus’ imperfections are pure perfection to the hopelessly devoted (and obviously love-struck 😅) girl.

I’m aware of the overdramatic nature and the unnecessary fluffiness of my short stories, but that’s the reason, why I’m writing them for my eyes only. It’s my form of a coping mechanism…the only way of allowing myself some kind of self-assurance and comfort…through Severus!

Some time ago, I found an artist here on tumblr, who made me fall head over heels for her tender style of drawing my beloved dungeon bat. Especially an artwork of her interpretation of the younger Snape made my heart ache with longing for him, so of course, I just had to commission @pssherri for an illustration of Severus and my OC Jules in their teenage years.

Sonja, you did an amazing job with this project and I can’t express, how grateful I am for your kindness and the dedication to your profession! It was a pleasure to cooperate with you on this idea of mine and I hope, you’ll be open to work on more of my requests some day. Thank you for everything, my dear!

🖤Severus & Julia🖤

🖤Sevy & Jules🖤

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borgialucrezia · 10 months ago

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the borgias truly went off in 2.10 'the confession'. specifically, where devastated rodrigo buries juan with his own hands, being intercut with everyone happy and celebrating lucrezia's betrothal, and being perfectly juxtaposed with dark and light. we get to see how rodrigo always saw juan while carrying his body (and that's probably how he sees all his children) as an innocent little kid instead of a broken soul. which was one of the most touching and well-crafted scenes that have ever aired on tv btw!! the whole sequence is also backed by a moving piece of tragic music that matches how guilty rodrigo feels about making the family hate juan by pressuring his inadequacy, making him full of misguided notions of defending the family's honor that led him to go wild. and setting him up to be envied by cesare. the murder made rodrigo reflect, and the viewers can tell that he has never told his eldest son that he sees himself when he looks at cesare, and that he has always held him in high regard but with a different dream and vision for him, despite cesare's wrong assumption that juan was rodrigo's favorite. and all because he always had a self-loath. to accept cesare as his favorite, he has to accept himself first. plus the cliffhanger? peak cinema imo.

#it's crazy how this episode and those sequences occupy my mind #cesare and juan are convinced that the other is somehow more favored and less deserving...#and each one is concerned that the others are getting something more and better....#and then there is rodrigo; a father who's sincerely and also misguidedly devoted to both his faith and his family #but he unintentionally fucked up his sons lives #rodrigo borgia #cesare borgia #juan borgia #the borgias meta #the borgias #text post

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wild-magic-oops · 2 months ago

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Gortash gets resurrected by god!Durge(Lucas) and god!Gale

Suffering Bane's punishment was excruciating, to say the least. It might've been a week, might've been a year, or ten. But it felt like eternity to Gortash. Pain like he had never felt before. The House of Hope was but a mere joke compared to it.

It had somehow become even worse for a time, when Bane had started losing a portion of his followers to a new god - one of Ambition. And oh, how the god of tyranny loathed losing control over his subjects. And if that hadn't meant more pain and suffering for Gortash, he would've relished in his master's displeasure. And how sweet it would've tasted on his tongue if it was tangible.

Gortash had loyally served for over two decades. He had paid his dues, had aided his god in his plans, had given his best, had succeeded where countless others had failed. And what was his reward for that? Pain and suffering because of an outcome he couldn't have even controlled in the first place.

Where once was worship and respect now was nothing but hatred. What a fool he had been, all the while thinking, or rather deluding himself, that it would've been Lucas suffering his own god's wrath eventually. But Lucas had broken free of Bhaal's chains and Gortash couldn't help but wonder what had happened to him. Did the Netherbrain kill him as well? He doubted he'd ever know. But how he wished he had tried to rekindle the flame between them, instead of sending Lucas to kill Orin to prove himself capable of being Gortash's equal again. But Gortash had seen the glimpse of affection between Lucas and the wizard in his group, and bitter irritation had spurned his decision further still.

And even before Lucas's disappearance and amnesia - what they had had never been defined, always diminished by their roles, by expectations, by their plans. Love was for fools and weaklings. They had enjoyed each other's companies and bodies, but never like true lovers. That would've been taking it too far. Gortash had been better at hiding his feelings. And now that he had nothing to lose, it was easy to admit them. Lucas had been less subtle, and eventually had misstepped too many times and it had cost him a hole in his brain. And that was that. Love missed for a plan that backfired so spectacularly into Gortash's face that he was still feeling the consequences.

At some point the pain had stopped and immense exhaustion had settled in instead. Gortash's very soul was still reeling from the torture. Like before, he couldn't tell how long he had been in this new place. It was a safe assumption that Bane had grown tired of him and banished him to the Fugue Plane. Or had been banished himself and all souls at his disposal were now godless.

Amid the exhaustion, he felt a warm touch, then a tight hug, after which it felt like he was being dunked into an ice-cold river, and he startled, sitting up. The rough stone was cold beneath his behind, and a shiver went through his whole naked body. The disorientation faded slowly, and the realization that he had been brought back to life settled in his still foggy mind. It took a moment to focus his eyes on the figure leaning over him.

Lucas. It was Lucas, grinning in obvious self-satisfaction. His shoulders and arms were bare, and so was a portion of his chest, the rest covered only by the crimson robe that he wore, matching the crimson of his hair almost perfectly. While it was a sight for sore eyes, what truly caught Gortash's attention were Lucas's eyes. There was... something different in them, something not quite human, or rather - not quite half-elvish. And while Lucas's gaze seemed warm on him, he couldn't shake the feeling of being lesser in his presence.

"It truly worked!" Lucas exclaimed, then looked to his right, on the other side of Gortash. Gortash followed the direction with his eyes. And it all made sense now. The feeling of slight inferiority. It was one of standing in front of gods. Bane had always exacerbated that feeling, of course. While Lucas and his wizard lover turned god were not trying, at least by the looks and feelings of it.

"As I assured you it would," the ex-wizard said, a small smirk playing on his silver lips, "Bane's hold on his domain has severely weakened after all."

"Which makes poaching his followers all the easier for you," Lucas said with amusement.

Oh, so that was the new god of ambition. Lucas's choice of a new lover made more sense to Gortash now. Lucas had always been drawn to power, to ambition. At the time Gortash had thought that that attraction would win in the end in his favour, with Lucas wanting more than to be his father's puppet and breaking free of his yoke, to instead rule with Gortash over their made-pretend worshippers. His prediction was partially correct. But it wasn't Gortash who had helped Lucas on that path to surpassing his role. And as much as Gortash had achieved in his life, offering Lucas true godhood would've never been something he was in the position to do. The feeling of inadequacy and inferiority could almost choke him.

"I see it more as his followers realizing that there is a more worthy deity to worship," the ex-wizard said matter-of-factly, "The ambitious ones, of course. The ones who wish to accomplish more and are willing to raise above their lessers."

Gortash would have to agree. That ideology had drawn him to Bane in the first place. And with a sick feeling in the pit of his stomach he realized why he was brought back. It was not out of affection. Lucas hadn't missed him so much as to bring him back purely because of that. No, he was brought back to serve. In what capacity he was yet to discover.

#galedurgetash #durgetash #durgegale #enver gortash #gale dekarios #gale of waterdeep #the dark urge #enver #durge #gale #galemance #bg3 #I said the last fic would be my last bg3 fic but this has been in my drafts for a long time so I thought I'd post it anyway #for the maybe 2 people max who are into this concept #lucas #my posts #my fics #if a miracle happens and I see people are interested in seeing more of this I'd continue it #but my main reason for not wanting to write for BG3 anymore is the lack of feedback and interaction

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joshusten · 1 year ago

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love the sinner (albus york/faith koria, bastard warrior || good boy audios)

Albus York takes a bath and Faithful washes his hair. (angst, slight argument, hurt/comfort)

2.2k+ words [ao3 link] [masterlist] [CW/notes: religious imagery ofc (this fic was basically an excuse to write that), typical albus york language, lots of self-loathing and some suicidal thoughts. albus is just having a bad time but hes also so whipped for faithful. speaking of her, i didnt make faith's physical descriptions vague or made it so that she's a "listener" but rather a character of her own! and i based it off of gba's description of her + my own interpretation hehe.]

once again THANK YOU SO SO MUCH to @slushiepizza for all the AMAZING suggestions and support like omfg i SWEAR i keep on saying this but this fic rlly wouldnt be finished without them!! i appreciate it sm!! and im shaking and kissing my irls that ive also bothered with this fic that will probably not see this THANK U SM!! edit: I FORGOT THE FUCKING READ MORE LMFAO

—

Albus York steadily sank into the half-filled tub of one of the ship’s quarters—stripped of his clothes, and left bare to no witness.

Gentle waves of the bathwater rippled against hardened, battle-torn skin. He dementedly mused that if he could go down further, he might finally drown.

He chuckled at the thought, shifted his position, and got to work. It's been a while since he last had an actual bath—way before he even agreed to this suicide mission of an adventure—with warm soapy water and scented products.

The constant near-death experiences and whatnot had interrupted the trio to get any time for themselves, much less to do any sort of basic hygiene. Since the route Devlin had charted for the ship to follow allowed for ample downtime, the Forgemaster had practically shoved his younger half-brother into the common bathroom and forced him to take a much-needed bath (Of course, not without a snobby comment about how his stench matched his personality perfectly well.)

Albus’ inexperience was made clearer with the stiff, awkward motion of his large, calloused hands as he attempted to wash himself. The unpracticed movement made the unfamiliarity of it all fully realized. How long has it been since he felt this safe? Does he even remember how to take care of himself?

Does someone like him even deserve this luxury?

The warrior submerged himself lower, down until his eyes were right above water level. He was thinking again. It was all that he had been doing for the past hour. If the gods wouldn't allow him to drown, then he hoped that the water would at least cleanse the grime and sin embedded into his flesh.

But he knew that filth clung to his skin like how a believer clings to the idea of repentance. No matter how hard—how desperately—he scrubbed (until pale skin turned into blood red, until rough turned rougher), it was all pointless. He had learned long ago that a bastard's prayers were never left answered.

The mark on his chest was a bleak reminder of that reality. Damnation was basically his birthright. Albus York was dead the moment he came out of his mother’s womb—dead to his family, dead to society.

Cursed to hell for being sin itself.

Life had a funny way to remind him—that goodness is something he can be in the presence of but never be a part of it.

"Albus?"

Speak of the devil, his ever-so-naive angel had arrived.

“Albus? Hello?”

Tender, serene, heavenly.

The voice was melodic—like the somber hymns he used to hear in his youth when his mother would take him into the temple and meet with her fellow brothers and sisters. At that time, he always felt drawn to the choir’s performance, despite not being old enough to understand the words (not that he was any more literate in the present). Back then, he was just a kid, blissfully unaware of the blasphemy he had committed for existing.

He had grown since then—in every aspect of the word.

"Albus! Are you still in there?"

A deep grunt, muffled slosh of water, and the pitter-patter of droplets on the tiled surface were all that Faith Koria had heard from the other side of the metal door before a familiar, gruff voice answered back.

"Calm ya tits, woman. I knew you were eager to see my dick but I never knew you were this eager!"

The outside replied with an annoyed groan, a sound Albus was all too familiar with, especially when it came from her. That being said, he couldn't fight the smile forming on his lips as he hastily dried himself up with a nearby towel.

"You've been using the bathroom for more than an hour, just what are you doing in there? Some people want to get cleaned up too, you know!”

The metal door swiftly slid open with a sudden 'woosh!', hot steam dissipating before the runaway nun to reveal Albus’ tall stature, half-naked and slightly dripping wet. Faith frantically averted her eyes on instinct, ears immediately burning with embarrassment. It wasn’t like it was her first time seeing him undressed—for gods’ sake, she treated his wounds like this when they first met! But to have him fresh out of a bath with his toned body exposed and his dampened long hair was—Wait! His hair!

"Alright, alright! I’m out, ya happy? I’m decent too so you don’t have to be a prude about it,” The bastard huffed, a little irritated with how his peaceful bath (or at least, as peaceful as it could be) was abruptly cut short.

“Albus, your hair!”

The man scrunched up his face in confusion. He gathered one of his dark locks and examined it with an intense focus. “Huh? Looks fine to me. What, you're not expecting me to be all prim and proper now, are you?”

“No, no, no! It's all matted and uneven!” The woman replied with a horrified concern in her voice that was rare for the warrior to hear directed at him.“It’s probably from all those monster attacks. Some of them must’ve managed to get to your hair! How long has it been like this? Does it hurt? Do you even have shampoo?”

“Uh…what’s that?”

“Ugh, never mind. Just—” Before Albus could process what was happening, Faith grabbed his arm with a surprisingly strong grip for a nun. She dragged him down near the bathtub he just got out of. He can even hear the water still slowly swirling down the drain.

“Faithful, what are you—”

“Stay right here. You got that, York? I’m just going to get something and I don't want you to move a muscle.”

A deep chuckle resonated within the man’s scarred chest—he always enjoyed it when she got this bossy. He gave her a mock salute and answered with a hearty “Yes, ma’am!”

The sister paladin made a face, letting out a flustered huff before hurrying to wherever she needed to be. So cute.

Albus had put on his clothes at this point while he waited (lest he risked Faithful suffering from a heart attack). A few minutes had passed by when she returned with a rather large pouch that Albus recognized was packed with the rest of her belongings. He deduced it must've been from her childhood with how worn down the embroidery was. Once vibrant floral patterns dulled from years of usage.

“Lean back by the bathtub,” Faith instructed. “I’m going to start detangling your hair. I might cut off some of the more unsalvageable parts too. If anything hurts or if I snagged on it too hard just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” The man repeated simply, not really knowing how to react to all of the amount of consideration he was receiving. Abrasiveness was what he was more used to responding to, not the care that she unabashedly gave him.

She beamed brightly at his compliance (and no, his heart did not just skip a beat), soft hands found their way to his head and started brushing away the more manageable tangles before using a wide-tooth comb for the bigger ones. Despite the numerous warnings, her fingers were nowhere near to being rough. She was as gentle as a lamb—her slow brushstrokes eventually formed a rhythm that filled in the silence of the room. Albus decided to break the comfortable atmosphere.

“How are you so good with this shit?” He mumbled, voice heavy with drowsiness. Fuck, he felt like he could sleep until his next life. “Never knew sisters of Cindergorn get to be part-time hairdressers too.”

Even with his sluggish state, Albus could almost sense the nun’s eyes rolling above him, brushing out his hair with a slightly more forceful than usual tug.

“I'm the one usually taking care of the children at the temple. I’m used to seeing this kind of stuff whenever they play too hard. Obviously not on this level but you get the gist.” Faith snipped off the last of a particularly challenging knot.

“I've also been doing my own hair ever since I was a kid, so really, it's like second nature to me at this point,” she followed up, running her fingers through his hair with a satisfied nod.

Now that Albus thought about it, he had seen Faithful braiding herself earlier on their journey when they had just…tastefully borrowed the flagship meant for his father. He remembered swift, practiced hands twisting sections after sections of dark, coiled hair and had mentioned in passing how it was a hairstyle she often did to withstand the Eastern Faithlands' harsher seasons (Fortunately, it also turned out to be great for going-on-a-quest-to-kill-your-priest-brother-and-save-a-child seasons too.)

Faith’s hands suddenly paused. Before the man could ask if something was wrong, she signaled him to stay still while she rummaged through the pouch to get a small bottle. She squeezed a moderate amount of product into her palm and spread it evenly. As she was about to apply the substance to his head, Albus jerked away, quickly stopping her hand with his own as a furrow formed on his thick brows.

“Faithful,” He chuckled. “Please, I’m a warrior. You don’t need to waste your fancy shit on me. My hair’s going to get fucked up again eventually so what’s the point?”

Faith struggled to wriggle herself out of his grasp. “Wha–Albus, it’s fine!”

“No, Faithful, I’m serious. It’s just hair. Hell, it’s my hair. Relax.” The man sat up straighter at this point, the water from his long, damp hair trickling down along the scarred tissue of his back but it was the intensity in those familiar brown eyes that made him feel a chill.

“And I told you it’s fine just let me—”

“Why are you making it a big fuckin’ deal? What do you want from me?”

“What?” Faith’s voice cracked, appalled and confused. “Albus, what are you even talking about? I’m not asking for anything—”

“I’m just a bastard you hired to kill your brother! I was paid to do the dirty work for you, not to be your fucking toy—”

“Albus, wha—Y–You’re not a toy! Why do you—”

“If I’m not then why are you being like this to me? There’s a catch—there’s always a fucking catch. So what the fuck do you want from me?”

The nun managed to finally yank her hand away from his harsh grip and angrily slammed at the smooth surface of the tub.

“I just want you to stop being stubborn for once and let me do this for you!”

The silence that followed between them felt suffocating.

Faith’s breath hitched, shocked by her outburst. She immediately straightened up her posture only to look down shamefully at the tiled floor. A shaky sigh left her lips, and Albus was doing everything in his power to stop himself from reaching out to her, seeking salvation he knew she shouldn’t give him because he was not sorry that he was like this. He wasn’t afraid to show his filth to the world because it was all he knew to do—all he was taught to do. There’s no excuse, no justification, no escape. She’s everything good and he’s just scum or worse yet—he’s a bastard.

Because she’s an angel and he’s far worse than the devil.

“This isn't anything all that fancy…just something to keep it healthy and less stressful on your scalp. I just want you to feel okay. So please…” She trailed off. “Let me.”

“It’s…It’s just hair, Faithful. I’ll be okay, I’m a big boy,” Albus joked, but his words were sincere. He almost found the whole thing amusing—having the ever-so-snappy sister paladin fuss over him—if he didn’t get a feel for how much…his comfort seemed to mean a lot to her.

Faith pursed her lips, her gaze still fixed downward. “I just think…you deserve at least one good hair day.”

It's that word again. Deserve. Does she really think that? That he's worthy of all of this?

The man cleared his throat with a curt nod. Hesitantly, the nun's fingers slowly found their way back to the crown of his head, resuming whatever she was supposed to do. Steady, rhythmic brushstrokes filled the quiet once again.

After what felt like hours of stillness, the bastard dared himself to shift his head and face her timidly—as if he was afraid he could melt under her piercing gaze.

"Thank you, for…for this," Albus grunted. He hadn't only meant for his hair.

Faith graced him with a dimpled smile—the one that made her eyes squint and showed the tiniest bit of the gap between her front teeth. She proceeded to tuck away a stray lock behind his ear, trailing down to hover over his cheek. Albus can practically feel the nervous tremble on her fingers as if she were hesitating on something. It all came to nothing in the end, closing her hands in a fist before withdrawing to her pouch to start cleaning up.

“Anytime, Albus. Besides, with how you always manage to find yourself in trouble,” the sister murmured, her voice playful (it never failed to leave Albus’ mind racing). Her eyes glinted as they locked into his almost like clockwork. “How can I not?”

Albus York sat by the empty bathtub of the ship’s quarters—fully clothed yet he had felt the most bare that he had ever been in front of someone.

Faith smiled at him again and he swore he could make out the faintest halo crowning her head under the fluorescent bathroom light. ---- a/n: this is probably my most favorite fic that i wrote and i hope you enjoyed! lemme tell u this fic took way to long and got me so stressed for no reason idk ! i was worrying abt how this would happen in the timeline and all the lil details and then !! its a fic!! and im suppose to be having fun!! i am being self-indulgent!! (although i hope was able to characterize them well) again, feedback and comments r highly appreciated!! :DD have a good day/night and thank you for reading!!

#good boy audios #gba albus #albus york #gba bastard warrior #gba faithful #gba fanfic #THIS TOOK WAY TOO LOOOOOONG BUT ITS FINISHED see you guys next year /j

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narcissisticpdcultureis · 5 months ago

Note

NPD culture is Miyuki Shirogane from Kaguya-sama, which I will heavily recommend for several reasons

His NPD is consistently portrayed in a completely non-demonizing way, and this is so interesting because he is one of the rare examples of NPD-coded characters who are just presented as unambiguously a good person (I absolutely love the villains/morally grey characters too, but this is rarer and refreshing to see), one who is usually very kind in a relatively conventional sense while also totally being a narcissist at the same time.

And his complex, while also utilized for comedy, is ultimately completely taken seriously by the narrative too, as a key part of his character and his core psychological struggle, in a way that foils his love interest (who has low-empathy autism among other things, like probably OSDD-1 and ASPD traits, that makes her feel like an unkind person despite also being kind in an unconventional way).

Also, what I particularly like about this series is that the key premise is very neurodivergent-coded in itself:

The entire major cast is very nd, and the synopsis is that the two leads basically engage in psychological warfare battles for years over perfectly mundane social situations at school because their inability to process and do social/emotional things in a ""normal"" way (especially for Kaguya) + their respective pride, insecurities and self-loathing complexes (Kaguya views herself as a fundamentally unkind, ill-tempered, and abnormal person at heart whereas she loves Shirogane for being kind and compassionate, while Shirogane views himself as fundamentally weak and forever a failure deep down which is why he does anything he can and works himself to death to keep up his perfect grades and prevent his mask from slipping; he feels like he could never possibly be match for the gifted & multitalented Kaguya in his "true", incompetent self) prevent them from seeing themselves as genuinely lovable, or ever seeing the possibility that the other person could possibly love them for who they truly are, beneath the millions of masks they carry. So they scheme and battle, because from their point-of-view, each of them is no match for each other in what they value more and they can never be truly loved for their ugly real selves, so the moment they admit their love for each other is the moment they "lose" and face unbearable shame.

tl;dr Kaguya-sama is good check it out, and Shirogane is a pretty interesting and refreshing example of a morally good NPD-coded character whose NPD plays a major part in his character and themes

#npd culture is #npd #actually narcissistic #actually npd #narcissistic personality disorder #cluster b #media

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olivia-crains · 3 months ago

Text

“I have been a therapist for two decades, I have seen hundreds of people, and I can say with absolute certainty that I have never met anyone with more self hatred than you.”

I never thought I would be 31 years old and in this position. My pastel apartment walls stare back at me, the opposite of my innards. The walls of my home are lined with various artworks from my favorite movies and shows, even my favorite people. My books and records are colored coded and sit aligned perfectly on the shelves before me. But all I can focus on is the key sitting on my coffee table, shaming me for my acts completed earlier today.

“Remember her?”

Her title card is a stark white.

You see the real Elisabeth Sparkle, she is so unbelievably beautiful, thin, successful, it appears that people love her but once alone you can tell she is unhappy. When someone matches your internal monologue, it make it fact. Harvey discrediting her and firing her and essentially degrading her, the sliver of self love Elisabeth had left, has died.

I realize many will call me stupid and say I missed the entire point of the movie, but this is my personal take on it.

I am 31.5 years old. I have not experienced a moment of self love. Please do not be like me. I wouldn’t wish this on anyone. It’s completely exhausting and all consuming. I spend every waking moment thinking of things I hate about myself, and each and everyday I come up with something new. And when people start pointing out those things and agreeing with me, it validates the hatred. It validates the violence. It gives it more power. It makes the hole even deeper.

The car accident is so violent and yet, there is not a scratch on her. This may be untrue but it seems to me that she wished she died in that car accident. She has nothing to live for anymore. Her success is over. Her life is over. The physical appearance of her, sitting on that table, hunched over, a blank stare with dried tears on her face, but still there, its a visual I can’t shake. You’re still here and people so want you to be grateful, but all you can focus on is the bad.

I can’t think of even one thing I like about myself. I am overweight, my nose is difficult and gigantic, my skin is pale and covered in freckles and moles, my boobs are small, I have various skin issues, my teeth are yellow and crooked, my hair is shit brown and grey, I have thin short eyelashes, I have short and patchy eyebrows, I suck at doing my makeup, I have no sense of fashion, but the worst part of me, is what is inside.

“Everything comes from you.”

Elisabeth examines herself before activating. She scans every inch of her body, the shame radiates through the screen even when she is simply ordering The Substance. She is already so ashamed and she hasn’t even administered the drug yet. She is taking a step to try to be better. To meet the best version of herself. It is so heartbreaking.

“Would you like to stop? Go back to being just you. On your own.”

Sue’s title card is bright pink.

Elisabeth takes care of her. She places a rolled towel under her head, she makes sure she is comfortable, she makes sure is fed, she takes such good care of her, almost maternal. She looks at her with love and care, not envy just yet, how we would maybe view our past self or even little us. Before we really get to know ourselves.

Elisabeth counts down the days until Sue takes over, she sits at home, binge eating and watching television in her chair, further shaming herself. Why not make things worse? She keeps herself locked away and further isolates.

Self loathing is so paralyzing. Its so easy for people to say ‘just move forward, don’t look back!’ There is no moving forward. You are still there at the finish line. You.

“That this part of yourself is still worth something.”

Elisabeth sees the boy Sue has been fucking and feels the need to call Fred. You see a glimpse of the Elisabeth that loves herself in the scene. But the phone call with Fred is so vulnerable, he feeds her heart and ego in a sincere way and you can tell she feels like magic again, even if only for a moment. She brings down the ‘old junk: Elisabeth’ box from the closet, she puts on her red dress and gloves, she does her makeup and even smiles as she gets ready. She feels beautiful. She feels confident. For the first time in a while.

She looks at Sue’s lips. Starts over. She looks at Sue’s body. Starts over. She sees the billboard. Starts over. She keeps going back and checking. Looking for imperfections. She finally turns to violence and smears her makeup, pulling and beating her face, destroying the physical self and returning to her room to isolate and ignore the man who genuinely adores her. She was so close to having a moment of self acceptance.

I have been trying to find words to describe how visceral and all consuming self hatred is, and I have failed. It is something indescribable. It affects every single aspect of your life. The date scene does more than words ever could when it comes to describing self hatred.

“I can’t do this. I need you. I hate myself. Come on! They are going to love you so much. You’re the only lovable part of me. You have to come back.”

The attempted termination scene rings through my head. My immediate reaction to watching that scene was one of such intense fear, vomit crawled up my throat as I fought back tears. Demi’s delivery is completely soul crushing, the way she says the words above, each word said differently and laced with such intense hatred and pity all at once. It broke my heart. It was the first time in my life that I have maybe seen what others see when I treat myself in such a way.

Feel like I have to add this here and say that Demi Moore’s performance as Elisabeth Sparkle will sit on what I call my heart shelf for the rest of my life. She joins the likes of Nina Sayers and that’s a huge honor, in my eyes. It’s a performance so gutting and comforting I will reference it in times of turmoil for the rest of my days. Nina and Elisabeth. Two halves of my shriveled and broken heart.

There is so much self violence in this movie, and I realize that is the point but the way it is portrayed profoundly affected me. Sue holding Elisabeth up to the mirror and bashing her head in, but making her take a good long look at herself first. It is so extreme but internally, that violence is so much worse than one can ever imagine. There is a great deal of humiliation in this movie that I noticed a lot more on rewatches. Dragging her down the steps, making her look at her ugliness in the mirror over and over again.

Stop it. In the mirror. Hitting her head. Stop it. On the bathroom floor. Banging her head against the tile. Stop it. Sitting at the kitchen table. Alone. Hitting her head with her hands. All of this after she experiences moments of humiliation or pieces of herself come to the forefront of her mind.

The choice to kick Elisabeth to death, I mean god…kicking someone to death takes so much effort and energy, the scene itself feels never ending, you’re praying for it to stop while some in the audience are laughing at the absurdity of the scene. The blood spraying Sue more and more with each kick, Jesus Christ.

I am not worthy of self love. My life is pathetic to an extent I’m not sure anyone would ever resonate with. I am alone. I am a loser. I have no one. I have never been loved. I have never been touched. And the only person to blame is myself.

I am the meanest person you will ever encounter. I judge people who love themselves to the point it makes me hate them and resent them, I can’t understand it. How could anyone love themselves? But then I look at their lives and see why they do. They are loved. They get fucked. They have friends. They have talent. They have children. They have husbands. They have wives. They have a life. They are good people. They are thin. They are attractive. They have no flaws.

I do nothing for no one. I sit at home 7 days a week and stuff my face and watch reality television. I sit and stew in my self loathing and enact terrible violences toward myself on a minute by minute basis. I don’t feel worthy of the steps I take. I don’t feel worthy of the breath I make, nothing. I wish I was a completely different person. I would give anything to be anyone other than me.

I see people do things to better themselves and it makes me want to do the opposite, as if I’m somehow better than others because I’m humble and despise myself. Writing that now is the first time I’ve ever really thought about how ridiculous that is and how completely unfair to even myself that is. It makes me wonder if I even want to improve or if I want to be a person that lives in the past, worshipping my former body, my former self.

“Don’t be scared! It’s still me!”

The bleeding never stops. And in the end, only you remain. Even if its in the form of a monster. You’re still in there.

I took it too far today. As I dragged the key into my arm and saw the blood dripping down, I was met with so much shame. I was embarrassed over the way I was perceived and the way I acted over, idk, most of my life? But when I socialize and can’t control the way I am being seen and the way I act, the shame is so intense I have to find an energy outlet. Its so difficult to separate these thoughts from the desires to immediately carve out a piece of flesh or inject yourself. And now I am met with likely a lifelong scar that will serve as a permanent reminder of how much I hate myself.

Elisabeth ignores her own potential. It’s so deeply upsetting to see a character like Elisabeth feel this way and watching her downfall and how she becomes her own worst enemy. How can someone like that feel such a way? Look at her! Look at her life!

You always come back to yourself. Even as you fade from existence.

Coralie Fargeat’s The Substance is cathartic for those of us who hate ourselves. I wish I could kill so many part of myself, but The Substance made me realize that maybe beneath it all there is something about me that is worth celebrating, even if I haven’t discovered what exactly that is yet.

“It changed my life.”

#the substance #coralie fargeat #demi moore

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streets-in-paradise · 1 year ago

Text

Friday the 13 Th - Eddie Munson x (Fem) Henderson! Reader

Warnings: Friday the 13 Th franchise references.

Summary: Eddie has convinced you of making something big to bother Jason in the most fitting day for your inside joke about him.

Notes: Happy Friday the 13 th! Let's make fun of Jason lol

The school's cafeteria was a stage where Eddie loved to play being a dreaded artist annoying the well adjusted students with his unhinged dramatizations. He was an autentical court jester despite many loathed his performances. You may have been once too shy to get involved or even engage, but the spirit of companionship of Hellfire had slowly and consistently changed that.

As two lonely weirdos doing their best to not be noticed during most of your highschool experience, you have always been in a distant bubble with Jonnathan doing your own thing unless bullies would disrupt you. There was no one else at least untill he started to date Nancy and you befriended Eddie first, later also Steve. While you remained best friends, some of that crave to hide together in a little corner going unnoticed began to change and that was way more evident in you under the influence of Eddie.

For once at least, Jonnathan acceded to get involved for a small role in a carefully crafted espectacle you were planning because he got to appreciate the concept. Fellow horror geek, he found it simple yet quite effective. At very least you both would have a funny story to share with Will and Dustin.

Staged action took it's course as you approached him limping and pretending you were crying your heart out.

" Please, please! You have to help me!! " You begged him for the entire place to hear you, your ketchup soaked hands seeking to hold his clean ones . " … He is coming, he got my friends!!! He is gonna kill us! "

Pretending confussion wasn't that hard given your performance.

" What are you talking about?"

" The councelors were making love while that young boy drowned!!" You directly referenced the speech of Pamela Vorhees in a mashup with a victim character. " … Now we are all cursed. WE DESERVE TO BE PUNISHED!!!! "

When your agonical, prophetic scream gave him the sign Eddie emerged rushing like a maniac into the scene.

" FRIDAY THE 13 TH!!! IT'S FRIDAY THE 13 TH, PEOPLE!!" He began to scream to anyone in his way. " RUN FOR YOUR LIVES CAUSE JASON IS GONNA COME TO GET YOU!"

The joke was perfectly timed with the entrance of Jason Carver. Annoyance was the less concerning feeling it awakened on the target. When you once started it he could have never imagined it was going to stick with the full weirdo group and even escalate.

" Are you looking for trouble, freak?"

Enacting a reaction fitting for a horror movie, you got in between them shielding Eddie with your body.

" No, Eds! Don't sacrifice yourself for me!! "

Eddie turned dramatically to play pretend a heartfelt objection.

" I must do it. You are the final girl and i am just the disastrous but charming male lead following you into the woods just because i'm in love with you. " He followed your performance with a self awareness touch. " Go, my beloved. Save that stoner and remember me. "

You held his hands as if his life trully depended of listening to you.

" I won't let you go! I know how to defeat Jason, you just have to trust me. "

The basketball player was frankly weirded. Still angry, but his lack of contextual orientation to whatever you were thinking to be doing temporally overcame his desire to punch Eddie in the face.

He was accidentally incarnating one of the lapsus of confussion Jason Vorhees could sometimes had in the films before resuming the chase for his victims.

Perfect moment for you to iniciate the end of the third act taking off your jacket to reveal a striped sweater in matching colors with the Tigers.

" Look at me Jason!! Look! Come over here … " You began to call him in the sweetest tone. " Do you recognize this? You are in home, honey.. It's gonna be ok, I'll take care of you!"

Your friends were laughing uncontrolably and you realized that even a guy in the jock's table was holding his chuckles. Probably only just for the excessive female nudity of the franchise, but he must have watched the film your joke was referencing. Not missing the chance to expose it, you smiled at him and his amusement turned inmediately into disgust.

" Friday the 13 Th Part 2, just in case you want to rent it for the weekend. " You explained to Jason after abandoning the character. " My interpretation didn't stick completely to the source material, but I found this sweater in a thrift store and inmediately thought of you. Eddie insisted we had to save it for the next Friday the 13 Th. "

" Meaning that you got that cheap sweater in my team's colours and prepared a scene arround it just to annoy me. " Jason summarized out loud, clearly fed up with all the freaks. " At least i can say you took too many bothers to get my attention in this oddly specifical charade. "

" Bullshit! He is pissed off, only tries to hide it because he lost. " Eddie quickly corrected. " We made it, sweetheart!!"

You both hi fived each other and rushed in the opposite direction, but hubris made Eddie deliver one last comeback on the way.

" Happy Friday 13 Th, Carver !!!! Don't get in the lake!!! "

Despite he did enjoy the thrill, Jonnathan was giving you judgamental looks as you reached him.

" … If i get targeted again for this."

Eddie patted him on the shoulder cheerfully before reassuring him.

" Chill, man! His feud is against us, you are totally safe. "

" That was freaking awesome! " You followed the cheers. " Don't lie to me, I saw it in your eyes. You are as excited as me. "

You had a point and he couldn't deny it.

" Fine, it was quite fun … Not as satisfying as punching Steve, but still. "

Eddie clearly supported the posibility of finding someone to complain about Harrington with that you couldn't object to. Besides, he was a big fan of the referenced episode.

" I heard all about it, the freak that kicked his bully's ass and stole his girlfriend … I just want you to know that Hellfire considers you a hero. You will always be welcome among us. "

His most inmediate answer was an awkward smile.

" Thanks. I really appreciate it, but i would like to keep my girlfriend. "

They chuckled and Eddie's was the loudest.

" Good call, man! Good call. "

Something in the specifical way Eddie choose to congratulate Jonnathan made you feel uneased. Probably because you were just jealous imagining he could want to steal his bully's girlfriend too if he had the same chance.

" Eds, if we were in a horror movie. Do you really think we would be the romantically coded final girl and last kill boy sacrificing himself so she could make it to the final fight?" You asked him as you were walking thowards the Hellfire table. " I mean, I won't do well as a final girl. To be one you need more than just be the virgin ... "

The joke may have been themed as a different thing, but you were masquerading your will to figure out if that was the case.

" ... And most times they aren't unwanted freaks, they are normal cute girls just too shy to approach their crush or too nervous to let their boyfriends convince them of sleeping together. "

He wasn't sure of where the point was going, but didn't mind to indulge you.

" Realistically, I would be the guy who dies alone getting high in the woods. " He mocked himself. " but i do think you could be a final girl. Although a rare breed we don't often get blessed with, freak girls tend to be passionate horror fans. You know all the rules to survive, my prediction is that you would make it and at the end of the film Harrington would be asking you out. "

The answer deviated from the path you expected.

" I thought you would accuse Steve of being the asshole jock dying in the sex scene. "

" As a judge I'm cruel, but fair. That has to be Hargrove, Harrington has higher chances of making it if he sticks with you. "

That made you laugh for reasons he could never possibly understand. In real life, Steve was the resourcefull fighter.

" Would you believe me if I tell you that Steve is a final girl ? "

He was laughing harder then, untill your softly delivered conclussion stopped it.

" I would like to make it with you too … It would be a refreshing change for the slasher formula. "

Eddie wasn't sure of it, but for an instant he choose to treat himself imagining you said you wanted to be with him in a very freakish way.

" There is no way i could make it. Ríght now i can tell you I would die for you. "

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things fanfiction #eddie munson #jason carver #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x henderson!reader #joseph quinn

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lucygxybaird · 5 months ago

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tagged by @francixoxoxo & @milliesfishes

five favorite fics you've written

one true time

I think I love this one so much because it gave me the chance to explore Billy's tendency to blame himself (and hate himself) for all the awful things that have happened to him. I think it would be so hard for him to keep surviving when people he's cared about -- whether it's his mother or John Tunstall -- have died, as if it's his fault. And I think with Dulcinea in particular, the guilt would be unbearable, especially because he (at least in his mind) brought her into this life. And after everyone else he's lost, I think that if he lost her, too, he would just have no fight left in him. I also wanted to give him the reward of a peaceful afterlife.

2. shelter and adore you

So first of all, this one is just cute. Tbh I feel like Billy is basically built to be a girl dad, and I really wanted to show him living a happy, domestic life with the woman he loves and their little daughter. And since the show loves to have Billy sing (don't we all), I had to include that, too. That song is a real old Irish folk-tune (it took me forever to find a good one that was time period-appropriate lmao). He wouldn't think twice about giving Dulcinea the chance to sleep, either. He would be a devoted, very hands-on parent, and I think he'd even appreciate the chance to have this moment with Kathleen.

3. i've just seen a face

You can't possibly look me in the eye and tell me Billy wouldn't worship the ground Lucy Gray Baird walks on. There's just no way. Billy falls in love in 3.5 seconds flat, and Lucy Gray matches him perfectly for charm and energy. If you couldn't tell, Kathleen McCarty is definitely a Bonneybaird shipper lol. I plan on continuing this, I have at least one or two follow-ups in mind.

4. only one of two ways

My OG :''') Another one that explores Billy's self-loathing, and his terror of losing anyone else he loves. He's so afraid of losing Dulcinea and his baby that he thinks his only option is just go to lay down in the desert and wait for the end. I was trying to draw a parallel between Billy and Pat Garrett's story of losing both his wife (?? I think it was his wife??) and his baby in childbirth. And then!! Yay, surprise, healthy baby and mother at the end.

5. thank god i'm yours

Okay, technically this isn't out yet, so this is just a preview. But I'm really excited about this one. I'm planning on a little surprise at the end. :)

they've already been tagged so please go check out @milliesfishes / @lucysgraybird / @francixoxoxo, their fics are amazing!!

#billy the kid 2022 #billy the kid x reader #billy the kid fanfiction #william h bonney fanfiction #william h bonney x reader #tom blyth

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romanceisdeadbutimnot · 2 years ago

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I guess I maybe had a couple expectations

💌

(Gojo Satoru x Reader) modern! college! au

Word count: 3.6k

Warnings: cursing

Summary:

When a spring dance is announced for campus everyone collectively agrees that Gojo will be crowned King if the Night. So why are rumors going around that you’ll be Queen? And why is everyone convinced that you and Gojo are going together?

In which Gojo ropes you into being his fake dance date without your permission, and then promptly falls in love.

Link to ao3 pt2

How did I get here I need to know? (I guess I maybe had a couple expectations)

You wouldn’t say you were the only person on campus that hated Gojo Satoru -but you may have been the only person completely honest with themselves as to why. You could’ve said you hated him for any number of reasons; the list of broken hearts he had left behind, the fact that he was effortlessly admired by students and professors alike, his patronizing comments in class, his childish attitude, the fact that he hardly seemed to try and succeeded in everything -top of the class, top of his year, top looks, top athletics or how perfectly punchable his face was. The truth was, you hated him because you were so easily mesmerized. God, you wished more than anything that you found him as insufferable and you claimed you did. It was impossible. His wit was charming, his cocky attitude was fascinating, his prowess was second to none, he knew it, and like a fool you fell hard.

Reasonably you knew that by all accounts, you should’ve hated him. There was nothing you loathed more than self righteous cocky assholes, but for some reason when it came to him it was endearing . Being in the unfortunate, (or rather quite lucky), position of having multiple classes with him you had plenty of time to develop a rather hefty dislike for his character -especially with how insufferable he was in class. He challenged your commentary with ease, captivated your peers with easy smiles and boisterous laughter. It was hard to compete with him. You thought that maybe, if he didn’t have lottery winning genetics, you might’ve stood a chance. You didn’t think you were ugly, but you were no bombshell. Still, try as you might, style and class were no match for Gojo’s photogenic aura. So you hated him, despised the way he made your heart flutter, cursed the flushing of your cheeks when he grinned at you in class.

All this to say, it wasn’t a big surprise to you when Gojo became the talk of campus dance. He was certainly going to be elected King of the Night, a title you argued vehemently wasn’t needed. Popularity contests should stay in highschool, you told student activities, and you knew that getting crowned King of the Night would only make Gojo’s ego more inflated than it already was -something you didn’t want to be responsible for. In the end you were outvoted and the student body was made aware of such contests.

It had only been three days since the dance was announced and it was already unanimous that Gojo was King of the Night, what was more debated on was who Gojo would be going with and if they would be Queen by proxy. It was a topic you tried to avoid as much as you could. From what you did hear; and sometimes oversaw, Gojo had rejected just about a dozen peoples advances. Although seemingly untouchable he looked more annoyed to you than you thought was possible. It served him right, but you knew you’d be annoyed in his place. He probably just wanted a chill night with his friends, and not to taint the memory with a one time date, and it would be one time. So it was your surprise when you showed up to the planning meeting and overheard your friends chatting about his date. You must’ve not known him as well as you thought.

“Who’s the victim?” You ask your friends setting your belongings down by an empty chair beside them. Anne and Aliyah look at you in confusion.

“What do you mean?” Aliyah asks.

“You were gossiping about Gojo’s date to the dance. Who is it?” You clarify, settling yourself into the seat.

The two girls in front of you look at eachother, holding a silent conversation without you. After what seems like eons Aliyah turns back to you.

“It’s okay girl. We already know,” she says.

“Well the whole school knows,” Anne chimes in. “He’s not exactly subtle.”

You stare back at them; confused.

“Know what exactly?” You ask, developing a rather hefty pit in your stomach.

“Oh my god!” Anne exclaims. “That you asked Gojo to the dance by throwing rocks at his window.” This causes Aliyah to perk up and turn to Anne in confusion.

“I thought she wrote him a love letter.” She exclaims.

“Well either way congrats on getting a date with the hottest man on campus. I thought you were gonna stay in denial about your crush until you graduated.”

“I didn’t ask Gojo to the dance.” You state blunty, trying to convince yourself that you did not in fact ask Gojo out somehow in your sleep.

“The whole school is talking about it. Gojo’s rejected Kelly Mikleson’s flowers and the donuts Deja Thomas brought. He said he couldn’t accept because he has a partner for the dance. You.” Aliyah explains to you.

“Ah I see.” Suddenly the dots were starting to connect together. He was tired of being asked out so he used you. He must’ve thought you’d find him and reject his invitation, seeing as your one of the only available candidates that actively argues with him in class.

Just then, your third friend Wen bursts into the meeting room, only a couple minutes late.

“(Y/n)! Tell me you did not burst out into tears and beg Gojo to take you to the dance. That’s so not cool!” She exclaims, walking up to you as quickly as she could.

“Goddamnit.” You laugh. “Not only does that bastard use me as a scapegoat, but he attacks my reputation.”

It was on.

You weren’t sure how he expected you to reject his proposal, but you knew he’d never in a million years suspect that you’d run with it. So when a group of first years asked if you wrote Gojo a poem asking him to the dance you denied it.

“Actually he drew my name out of a hat. It had the entire student body's names in it.”

When the second year football team asked if you really challenged Gojo to a race and won, you told them of course not.

“Gojo actually begged me to be his date. Got on his knees and everything.”

No you didn’t shoot a paper airplane at him in class, but yes he did blackmail you by taking an ugly photo of you sleeping during a late night study session in the library.

Maybe you didn’t buy him a bouquet 4 times the size of his head, but he had a pretty bad degradation kink and all the times you argued with him in class turned him on.

You were starting to lose track of all the ways that Gojo and you had asked each other to the dance. At this point you weren’t sure what stories you had told, or which one he did. Sometimes you couldn’t even tell if others were making up fantastical fairy tales just to get an audience. You weren’t sure Gojo had the aptitude to come up with the idea that he had asked you out after a candle lit dinner, on top of the overlook with a bouquet of flowers in the starlight. No, Gojo didn’t have a romantic bone in his body. Partners came too easily to him, he’d never work that hard. Still- the idea that you two were undercover agents who fell in love on a mission didn’t fail to make you laugh. Maybe for this reason you weren’t too shocked when you felt his presence looming over you at the bus stop.

“What color is your dress, I’ll buy the matching pocket square.” He calls out behind you. You don’t turn to look, maybe because you knew that secretly you were overjoyed that he chose you to be his fake date to the prom. Maybe you worried that he’d see your glee written all across your face.

“That’s presumptuous,” you snort, diverting.

“How so?” He hums, close enough to you now that you could smell his cologne.

“You haven’t even asked me to the dance.” You turn to look at him now. He was wearing those annoying sunglasses that he refused to take off, even in class.

“If I recall correctly, I’ve asked you 37 times, and you’ve asked me 93.” He smiles at you.

“You’re making those numbers up.”

“Am not.”

“Are too.”

“Am not.”

“Are- you know what whatever,” you rolls your eyes, turning to look down the street for the bus, which was chronically late as always. “It doesn’t matter anyway because none of those scenarios are real. It’s all gossip.”

“Well, pick your favorite.” He laughs, loud and boisterous. You can’t help the tinge of pink that dusts across your cheeks and the annoyance in your brow.

“You’re so full of shit Gojo. If you were serious about taking me to the dance, which you’re not, you wouldn’t be buying a silly little pocket square -that’s definitely too tame for someone as annoying as you.” You turn back to look at him this time, eye twitching at the signature smirk on his face.

“Aw, you know me so well!” He glomps onto you, wrapping himself around your form. You go cherry red this time. It was too much, he was too much.

“Get off me. I haven’t even purchased a dress yet, so even if you were going to buy a pocket square, which-“ you hold up your pointer fingers for emphasis, “you’re not, I couldn’t even tell you what color it would be.” You finish explaining to him, then seeing as he hasn’t moved from his position across your shoulders, you shrug him off.

He looks to you, and although you can’t see his eyes you knew they would be sparkling with mischief, given the wicked grin he was pointing at you. He opens his mouth and before he even has the chance to speak you shut him down.

“Whatever you’re thinking, my answer is no.”

“Aw, come on sugar cheeks, you haven’t even heard my idea yet.” He pouts.

“Tragic.”

He huffs, moving to stand next to you and placing his hands in his pockets as if he too were waiting for the bus. It was silent between the two of you. Too silent.

“Wanna take my car?” He finally asks, dangling some expensive car keys in your face. You roll your eyes.

“Unfortunately I lost all feeling in my legs 10 minutes ago, I can’t walk further than onto the bus. It’s a condition called egoist paralysis, whenever I see someone with an inflated ego my legs stop working.” You challenge him, with an obvious lie. He seems to find joy in your response but you don’t realize why until he speaks next.

“Don’t worry babe, I’ll carry you!” You snort at his enthusiasm.

“There’s no way you can carry me to your car.”

“Bets on. I carry you to the car and you don’t complain about where I take you.” He’s oddly calm, as if he was on the verge of winning everything.

“Trying to murder me before the dance?” You challenge him.

“Better.” He smiles.

“Sure, because there’s no way you can carry me across campus to the parking-“

You’re stopped halfway through your rebuttal by his sudden movements. He squats down, throwing you over his shoulder. Your hands come dangerously close to hitting his ass, and your own was right next to his face. If you weren’t flushed red before, you certainly were now. He palms your thigh and takes off in a considerably fast walk across campus.

“Okay okay you win! Put me down!” You nearly yell, flushing bright red. You cover your face the best you can, his shoulder sharply digging into your stomach.

“No can do!” He chirps happily, nearly skipping across campus.

“Seriously! You’ve proved your point. I'll get in the car, just put me down, people are watching.” You were pretty confident that he was used to the stares and whispers that followed after him, Gojo the unattainable, Gojo the untouchable. You wouldn’t mind the attention to much, if it wasn’t for the manner you were getting it. Nothing was more embarrassing than being paraded around on Gojo’s shoulder like a prize winning sack of potatoes.

“You know I can’t do that!” He laughs boisterously. “I’d lose, and I’ll never lose to the likes of you.” At the rate he was going you weren’t sure he would ever lose to you. You didn’t think you would ever win.

He sets you down, the cocky ass, in the passenger side of his car and buckles your seatbelt shooting you a playful wink. You scoff at his antics crossing your arms and turning to the window.

“Where are we going?” You ask finally, trying to distract yourself from the confident -yet dangerous- way he drove through traffic - ten over at least and refused to slow down on turns, changing lanes like a maniac, swerving around even the fastest of cars. It would be attractive if you weren’t so sure you’d die before ever arriving at your destination.

“Guess,” he looks over at you, grinning, narrowly avoiding a crappy purple scion ahead.

“God you’re insufferable.”

“So mean!” He pouts.

“The bakery?”

“Hmm?” He taunts you by playing dumb.

“Jesus Christ Gojo. Are we going to the bakery?”

“Nope. Guess again!” He takes a right.

“Candy shop?” You weren’t sure where Gojo frequented, but given his constant snacking on sweets the above two seemed likely.

“Wrong again!” He chastises you. “Though maybe we should go there after?” He muses more to himself than you, taking another right turn.

“I don’t know Gojo, a sports park?” You guess again growing a little frustrated. He certainly wasn’t taking you anywhere you’d like, he didn’t seem like the considerate type.

“Well we know you’re good at one thing at least.” He takes another right, skidding around the corner.

“What?” You utter before you can think better of it.

“Being wrong.”

“You’re such an ass. Where are we going then? You’re house?” You fire back, riled up. He takes another right turn.

“No, but you’d like that wouldn’t you?” He gives you a shit eating grin before you smack his arm and he mumbles about how violent you were. You were (reasonably) angry by this point. You knew Gojo was an ass. You shouldn’t be surprised when he teased you like this, it was nearly an everyday occurrence in class, and yet his tomfoolery was a little more hurtful today. You knew it was because he put your hopes up. Asking you to the dance, pretending he was going with you, carrying you all the way to his car. Whatever elaborate prank he was trying to pull on you it was certainly going to work. He knew. He must’ve know about your crush and he was using it to torture you in classic Gojo fashion. He takes another right turn. Wasn’t this like the fourth right turn he’d taken? Where on earth were you going?

Then it dawned on you.

“Have you been driving in a circle?” You ask, punctuating each word and you turn slowly to him.

“Only around the block once or twice, it was fun watching you guess!” He pulls a u-turn immediately parallel parking. Your grip on the side of the car fearing for the worst, he really was a horrible driver.

The store he pulled in front of was one of those high end fashion stores. If you thought the color was draining from your face before, it certainly was gone now.

After a little coercion and Gojo threatening to carry you into the establishment you finally go inside. The shop keepers refer to Gojo by name, and he pulls down his shades just to send you a playful wink. If you weren’t so off put by the extravagance you certainly would’ve flipped him off.

Gojo immediately gets to work, chipper than you’d expect him, pulling out ball gowns and telling you to try them on. You casually check one for pricing. You thought it was casual, but after a minute of attempting to locate the price tag and finding nothing you feel the demon's presence behind you.

“You’re not going to find a price tag in there.” His overly tall frame leans over your own. You shoot him a pointed glare.

“That means it’s too expensive then. I can’t get anything here, so you should try on whatever you want,” you huff. He merely laughs,

“It’s only 10 grand.” He steers you toward some attendants, both hands on either of your shoulders.

“Only?” You exclaim to him in shock. He heeds you no attention as he turns to the workers he thrust you upon. Start with the blue dress, then the white, then the black. They nod ushering you into the changing room, despite your protests. You tried, you really did, but social convention kept you from freaking out and refusing to put on the pieces. They parade you about after putting you in each piece, showing you off to Gojo who’d whistle and holler at you. Much to your pink cheeked dismay. He’d pull out more pieces for you to try, and they’d somehow convince you to put them on. They’d even managed, much to your demise, to take your measurements for any future gowns you’d like to purchase. You hadn’t the heart to tell them you wouldn’t be purchasing any, and that Gojo was just wasting their time. As you finally managed to convince the attendants that you were done, and you were changing back into your civilian outfit a few scamper off citing another customer. You were thankful for that.

You were thankful atleast, until you realized who the second customer. She was a tall woman, beautiful, model thin with long locks of snowy white hair. It takes you a moment to place who she looks like, as you peer at her from behind the curtain. When it becomes obvious, so painstakingly obvious it was already too late.

“Satoru. Have you asked the Adams girl to the banquet yet?”

No good afternoon. No how was your day. Just straight to the point, almost cruel. As you peek from just beyond their sight, you notice how Gojo stiffens, how the smile of his face doesn’t reach his eyes. He doesn’t like her, you quite quickly deduce. He doesn’t like her or he doesn’t like whoever Adams is. Or both.

“Not yet.” He tells her, vessels straining in his neck. You swear this woman, his mother, snaps before your eyes, shifting from the seemingly polite woman who entered the establishment.

“And why not? Have you not found her suitable?”

Maybe it was the way he seemed to cower- seemed to shrink under her gaze, Gojo the untouchable. Maybe that was why you made the decision, even though you knew it was trouble, even if you knew you would regret defending the pompous ass he was.

“He can’t because he’s taking me instead,” you emerge from behind the curtain, strutting confidently to where Gojo was sitting, entangling his hand in your own. You give it a gentle squeeze as his mother laughs in your face.

“Come now honey, I know my son enjoys fooling around with women of low class, but when it comes to important matters such as business and connections he’s no fool. I’m sorry to break your little heart.” She gives you false sympathy, a pretty pout tainted on your lips. Any reservations that filled your stomach dissipated. There was nothing you hated more than rich people looking down on you. You stand, facing her, Gojo’s hand lingers on yours as you pull away from his grasp.

“So power, status and wealth are what matters to the Gojo family?” You ask, anger seeping into your words.

“Aw, I’m sorry my dear. Did he make a little nobody like you feel important? Did he promise you a luxurious life? There there, it’s good you see now, instead of getting your pretty little hopes up.”

“Oh quite the contrary, Gojo promised me a life of headache and trouble. See the thing about people born into power is that they forgot. Forgot how hard it is to crawl up the line of succession, stuck in thier ivory towers desperately grappling onto what wealth they have.” You smile at her, baring your teeth like fangs.

“Why you insolent-“ she starts to yell, but you cut her off.

“You see, I have nowhere to go but up, you on the otherhand have so far to fall, and by the looks of it, scuffed Gucci heels, a 2001 Versace scarf, and last seasons designer dress, you’re already slipping.”

She stares at your, mouth agape, you swore you could see the metaphorical steam shooting from her ears.

“Come on now Satoru. I’m bored of this place.” You reach your hand out behind you, not daring to look away from your enemy. Gojo slips his arms into yours, wrapping his lanky form around your own. His chest presses against your back, the tips of his bangs tickle your cheek, as he presses a rather obnoxious kiss onto your cheek.

“Sorry mom, what the girlfriend says goes!” He leads you from the store, ushering you into his car, as you feel all the bravado wear off.

“Oh my god.” You whisper, as he pulls out into traffic.

“I know!” Gojo caches beside you.

“I insulted your mother!” You turn to him horrified. You could already see your future crumbling before you. All the jobs you wanted closing thier doors on the woman foolish enough to insult the Gojo family.

“I know! It was thrilling,” he laughs next to you.

“Oh my god. I’m dead. I’ve ruined my whole career.”

He laughs boisterously next to you, speeding down the interstate.

(There’s more chapters up on my ao3 incase you can’t wait )

#gojo fluff #gojo satoru #gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jjk reader insert #jjk fanfic #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #jjk gojo x reader #x reader #modern au #college au #lmao Gojo is an ass and I won’t write him any other way #he’s such a little shit

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