#this isn’t towards like the moots or anything

[weirdgenetic-fuckup]

Hai^^ I love your stories so much and I was wondering if you could make one about 80s slash x reader? And how the reader’s parents and slash’s mom were friends and forced them to meet each other?

When the reader sees slash - she kinda into him and the more she stares at him the more attractive gets and slash is a bit older than her and finds her funny and weird as he notices that she’s been staring at him the whole time during dinner.

It isn’t until they’re left alone that they start talking to each other and slash makes playful gestures and teases towards her? With smut and fluff of course :P

I hope that’s not a lot^^ anyways whenever you get the time^^

A/n: I wrote this in class and barely finished so the end is kind of shit

Warnings: smut, arranged marriage trope(ish), if you think I missed anything let me know otherwise enjoy!

I think I’ve used this before but no I didn’t bc I said so

Ever since you were young, around twelve, there was always this pressure to be with someone, relatives coming by and asking where your boyfriend was. It was annoying and you couldn’t get away from it.

Your parents only got worse as you got older, inviting friends over with suitors. Annoying old men shoving money and power in your face, none of it was ever for you they just wanted to show you what they had. They didn’t care about you.

This dinner was just like any other, you had to get all dressed up to meet some guy your parents knew. He’d be old, creepy and wasting away, just wanting someone to bed whenever he wanted, someone to beat, who he could show around town as he pleased.

You were in your room, getting ready as per usual. You stared at your reflection in the mirror, pristine and proper, white floral dress and golden makeup. Just once you wanted to do something bigger, something harsher.

The doorbell rang and you were called down to meet the guests. You say yourself at the table, ready to meet the next suitor to leave.

A woman walked through, she was gorgeous and had a beautiful smile, behind her came a man with bigger hair than his mother. He shared those big, dark eyes, full lips, but he didn’t smile. He wasn’t dressed up all fancy, he wore jeans and a leather jacket over a Ramones shirt that was torn up and well loved, to say the least.

You weren’t allowed to listen to the Ramones, devils music you were told. This man was the devil incarnate and you were certain he’d be the one to take you away.

Your mother sat down next to you and placed a hand on your knee, leaning into you. “Don’t you dare go looking at this one all puppy eyed, I gave you good men you will not be falling for this monstrosity.” She said through gritted teeth, but her warning was moot, you’d already made up your mind.

The dinner went as every other did, your mother would ask questions and listen closely to the answers, except she didn’t. She didn’t care what this man, Saul was his name, had to say.

You sat idly by and ate, gaze flickering over to him all too frequently, he was sure to notice but he didn’t bring it up or look back at you.

His voice didn’t match his appearance. He was soft spoken and only spoke when told to, he rarely looked up from his plate and when he did he didn’t make eye contact.

Saul Hudson to be wed, you could see it in the papers now.

“I play guitar in a band.” He said, it broke through your day dreaming haze.

“You-you play..?” Your mother sputtered out, unable to even finish her sentence.

Saul nodded, a wide grin on his face and he looked up at you, still not making eye contact. His gaze flicked from your lips down to your shoulders, you didn’t dare guess where else he was looking. “Big band, Guns N’ Roses.” He clarified. “Playing stadiums now.” His mother smiled proudly over at him.

You wiped your mouth on a napkin and stood, quietly excusing yourself from the table. The food was gone and what was left needed to be packed away now anyway, you were just leaving it for other people.

You went to your room and sat down at your desk once more, staring at yourself in the mirror. Something new filled you, you wanted his attention, all of it. You wanted to run with him, to venture with him. He’d take you all over with his band and he’d love you. He was gentle and he wouldn’t hurt you, he wouldn’t flaunt his money, only buy you jewelry for your birthday and flowers when he loved you, just because.

You dug through your drawers and tried to find something… big, a statement piece for your face. Your attention snapped to the door as it opened and Saul walked in.

He was hesitant at first, staring at you bent over a desk drawer and digging through it like a mad man. He came over and stood just beside you, placing a hand on your lower back as he looked through the drawers for you.

Saul pulled out a deep red lipstick. He brought a finger under your chin and tilted your head for him to see you properly.

You were struck, in your core a pulse came with a heat, a desire, but you snapped out of it quick enough to wipe the gloss you already had off your lips so he’d have a bare canvas to work with.

He smiled down at you and got to work, using the tip yo outline your lips before filling them in.

You looked back at yourself in the mirror, Saul now stood behind you with his hands on your hips. He didn’t look in the mirror, he stared at you in front of him, the side of your face and how pleased you seemed with his work.

You turned back to him. “Do more.” You asked, drawing a chuckle from him and he shook his head, by god you made him laugh and you wanted to hear it again and again for as long as you lived.

“I don’t know anymore.” He said, bringing his hands to your shoulders and turning you around again. He leaned down to you, his lips caressing the shell of your ear. “You do it, you can’t mess up when it’s just gonna be running down your face in a minute anyway.”

You paused a moment and looked back to him. “Why? Will you make me cry?” He nodded confidently, you looked back to the mirror. “Why would you do that? Will you leave?” You asked curiously.

“More than one way to make someone cry.” He said, rubbing your shoulders. He inhaled deeply, taking in your saddened expression, you clearly didn’t get what he was referring to. He’d just have to show you once you looked the part, well enough the part anyway, you didn’t have the clothes.

“Heavier on the eyes.” He said as you tapped on a bright red, something to connect the lipstick while still being different. You picked up your pencil liner but he took it from you and had you turn towards him. “Gimme a second.” He said with a smile, being careful to not poke you in the eye as he worked.

He was giggling when he turned you back to the mirror. You had a leopard print on your eyelids and whiskers on your cheeks. The print on your eyes was pretty, neat and well done, the whiskers were an afterthought he was enjoying much too much.

You stood up and turned to him, placing your hands on his shoulders. “It’s perfect!” You exclaimed, standing on your tiptoes to kiss him, he couldn’t say no to that.

He wasn’t a gentleman, not by a long shot, he was just sweet. The first chance he got his hands were on your ass, pulling your dress up over your head and not caring if he smudged it, not one bit.

Your arms went around his neck and he lifted you up, allowing you to wrap your legs around his waist while he carried you to your bed and laid you down.

He was laying over you, an arm holding him up by your head, his other hand moved down between your legs, rubbing through your folds and catching your clit, feeling how wet you already were for him.

“You’ve never done this before, have you?” He asked, already starting to trail kisses up your jaw towards your ear. You hesitated before slowly shook your head, hoping it wouldn’t make him stop. Luckily he didn’t and just sucked his teeth. “Well, I don’t feel like slowing down for you.” He said sitting back up and undo his jeans, pushing them down just enough for his dick to spring free, of course he didn’t wear boxers. “Just tell me if it hurts.” He said as he pushed into you, groaning as he did.

Despite his words he did give you a minute to adjust to him, running his hands up and down yours sides until he felt you were ready and he started moving, slow at first but he couldn’t keep that pace for long.

His hands gripped your hips tighter, tugging you closer to him as his hips slammed into yours, each thrust bringing you closer to an edge you’d never seen before.

He was perfect above you, full lips, bruised just like yours, parted ever so slightly in soft, low grunts and groans. Sweat clung to his curls just around his face, the rest of his mane framing his sharp jaw. His teeth were crooked and he didn’t look right at you, focusing on feeling good, making you feel good.

You didn’t have anything to compare it to, but this was definitely the best you’d ever felt. Free, and it felt so good. You reached down and found your clit, rubbing it in circles.

Saul chuckled over you and nodded in approval. “Just keep doing that, keep doing that.” He said. You could feel him inside you, veins dragging against your gummy walls, cunt pulling him in for more, every time he pulled away you sucked him back in.

You melted into the mattress, vision going white and when you came doing from it you felt something warm spilling out inside you, Saul’s face tucked into you and he kissed over your chest, latching onto your nipple and swirling his tongue around it.

Finally he pulled away and pulled away and sat up, fixing his pants before heading out to your balcony. You saw he was smoking, he just looked so… you couldn’t even describe it.

You got your dress back on and went out to stand with him.

He smiled at you when you came out, he held the cigarette out for you but took it away before you got the chance to get it. “No way in hell am I letting you do that.” He said with a laugh.

You sighed and leaned your head on his shoulder. He glanced down at you as he took a drag from his cigarette. “It’s pretty tonight.” You said.

He nodded, looking out on the cities lights below. Your house was up on a mountain, giving you a good view all around. “I bet it’s a pretty night for you every night.”

You smirked up at him. “What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means you live here, you see it every night.” That’s not what you were expecting.

You looked back out to the city. “I want to see more… with you, Saul.”

He let out a heavy sigh, he wanted you with him too. You were intriguing to him, you needed a chance to rebel and he knew you would never stay with him, not after growing up like this, but he could be the one with you to see the world and that was enough. “Slash.” He said. “If you’re coming with me you call me Slash.”

“Slash.” You repeated. “Slash Hudson.” He might regret this, but he didn’t care. In that moment, he didn’t care about anything.

[alicentwhore]

Everyday I think I hate this fandom and a lot of the people in it just a little bit more

[izvmimi]

cw: selfship-coded. sappy. first kiss. isekai elements referenced if you pay attention. aged-up characters to early 20s. reader is part of the corps however not from time period nor country. love triangle.

Tanjiro is exactly where you expect him to be when you find yourself unable to turn in for the night, slipping your feet into tabi slippers, and finding the courtyard where he trains.

You’re no longer at the Ubuyashiki Estate these days but at the Butterfly Mansion, a welcome reprise from the rest of the Hashira with the subset of your comrades you’re most comfortable with - your best friends, in the same predicament as you, slumber in their own respective bedrooms. You can imagine that one has slipped into the room with Genya at some point in the night, and the other is probably asleep, her own gentleman (gentle really only with her and perhaps his pet beetle) caller having sent word that he’d be visiting in the morning. The Butterfly Mansion is truly a beautiful, restful place compared to the bustle of the estate but your heart has been aflutter ever since you came here.

You hate to admit it, but Kanao gets under your skin. 

For a moment, as from afar you watch Tanjiro practice his strike for what may very well be the thousandth time that night, you stand transfixed, wondering if it is worth it to break his concentration to tell him what’s been on your mind. After all, perhaps all this for him it’s something silly and inconsequential, something you’ve only built up in your mind. The draw to him may not be something real even, and even if it were, you are not destined to stay in this land or even this time period.

Whether or not you like him doesn’t matter. Whether or not you love him is moot. You can’t stay. Knowing how he feels about the situation will not serve to clear the muddy waters, plus you have never been one to draw unnecessary love triangles, anyway. 

Before you can let your own misgivings overtake you and turn tail, Tanjiro spots you from afar.

He calls your name loudly, one last strike before his sword is sheathed, and set by the trunk of the nearest cherry blossom tree. He’s fast, and before you know it, he’s by you, grinning widely as he does when he’s excited, despite the exhaustion evident in the very marrow of his bones, communicated by the sheen of sweat overlying tense, overworked muscles. 

“You’re up,” he says, and you try to come up with the best way to organize your thoughts. “Couldn’t sleep?” he asks, carefully. He’s moving back to where he’s left his sword, but this time he’s taken your hand gently, pulling you along as one does a small child. He has the tendency to do this, reach out to you without considering it first, still unable to understand the effect his touch has on you. He hasn’t picked up on the fact that you let only him and your closest friends touch you casually, and you wonder how he would take it if he realized.

Has he realized yet how special he is to you? 

Your mouth opens then closes as he unsheathes his sword again, and puts himself back in stance, throwing a glance at you to make sure you’re out of striking distance.

“Is it okay if I keep going? I assume you want to talk, but I’m not done. I can still listen, though.”

You nod then look around. Part of you is surprised Kanao isn’t out here, watching him with loving steady eyes, a mind that is as unreadable as her feelings are obvious. You can’t tell if she sees you as a threat or not, or if she sees you at all. But she’s nice. And you are nice. 

That’s all you are to each other and this arrangement is what you wish it could remain. 

Regardless, Aoi’s words have unsettled you.

I know how you feel and I’ve felt that way, but Kanao needs him.

Just thinking about how she practically accosted you, while well-meaning, terribly abrasive, you can feel your teeth clench. 

You haven’t done anything wrong except be yourself. You don’t know how to control the fact that he gravitates towards you. You haven’t tried to seduce him; you understand the roles of girl code, that she was there first, that she loved him first, that she was by his side when he was comatose, when he was fighting, when he was becoming what he is now, and you have no right and yet-

“Talk to me.” 

Tanjiro pauses, and he’s looking at you again, eyes washing over you in the moonlight as though they’re looking for any pain he can assuage. It hurts how he can care about you so deeply, like the most attentive of lovers, when all you’re fated for is a short-lived friendship. You have to remind yourself constantly that he does this for everyone, he loves everyone this tenderly, and thus let your heart stop racing, but there’s not much you can do when all you can think of is the way your lips met just days ago.

It wasn’t a kiss. Kisses are for people who love each other. Kisses are for him and Kanao. He is not for you, nothing is for you, everything is for Kanao.

“Kanao is in love with you,” you blurt out, and immediately regret it.

You can see his body tense, and then he breathes out slowly. You watch him move, and you can feel the night chill suddenly intensify, your arms wrapping around yourself for warmth but for comfort. Your body is trembling. Why did you say that? Everyone knows. It’s not a secret that they’ve been fated for each other for the past several years, long before you tumbled into this world that doesn’t in any way belong to you.

“I know.”

Heat rushes through your body. It’s the worst answer he could have possibly given you, polite and patronizing at once. He’s watching you carefully now, eyes matching your gaze, his hands running through his hair.

“I’m glad you know,” you finally convince yourself to say, trying to prevent your voice from cracking. Heartstrings taut to snapping, you try desperately to come up with a way to change the subject. You don’t care to hear about how easily he returns her feelings or any other part of their love story, whatever you’re not privy to.

“We’re supposed to head out in a couple of days, maybe you shouldn’t tire yourself out like this.” you offer. You turn your head from him, your hand on the tree trunk before you, pretending that the ridges of the bark are of particular interest to you now, although it’s mainly to catch a few errant tears threatening to escape your lash line. “When do you sleep?”

“__.”

He calls your name again, softer this time. Your heart sinks into your stomach. You can’t discuss this anymore.

“The soup Kanzaki-san made today was quite delicious, don’t you think? I have to ask for the recipe.”

There is a pause that is far too loud, and you’re now frozen stiff, holding back tears. You know he will not let you move on, but the idea of rejection in the middle of the night is just too much for you to bear.

Lovesick. Truly lovesick you are at this venture in time, and the fantasy has to last just a little bit longer. It’s all you have going for you in this awful situation, the dream that even if you’re trapped here slaying monsters for an indeterminate length of time, away from family and the technology you took for granted, perhaps he can smile and warm you like the sun. 

“I think Inosuke may have said my name right today, Tanjiro, isn’t that so funny?!”

You laugh, but it’s coming out disingenuous, a sound not unlike a barking sick cough.

“___,” he says again, his voice even softer now, pleading with you to manage your own font of emotions. 

It’s too much. 

You turn quickly and whisper something about being tired and needing to leave, and the moment you walk past him, he grips your wrist again, stopping you in your tracks.

Your heart thumps.

“I don’t love her.”

Your head shakes automatically even if it’s what you wanted so desperately to hear. “I think you should,” you say in the smallest of whispers.

Your hand pulls but Tanjiro doesn’t let go, instead stepping around to face you. Your head is turned downwards but gently, he takes your chin and raises it up to his face. You look away, but you’re biting your lip and the tears are starting to well up again. Your heart is racing out of control.

This isn’t what you want, but it is. You must still be dreaming, never having left the security of your bed. 

“Why are you crying?” 

Concern dripping in his voice, he’s thumbing away tears that you’re too embarrassed to explain.

“I…” you trail off. There’s no excuse, really.

“What do you want me to tell you, __?” Tanjiro asks. It’s a harsh question but it’s said with firm kindness; the gentle glow in his crimson eyes are patient still.

That you love me as much as I do you, you think, then dispel. Preposterous.

“I’m not sure,” you lie. He frowns, the immediately detected deceit disappointing him. He lets go of your chin, then takes both of your hands in his. Your stomach turns as he raises them to his lips.

“Kanao is important to me-” he starts. You wince and pull away, but he holds on tighter, “but you too are important. Very much so.”

“She loves you-” you start, and he quickly rebuts, “I love you.”

And this stuns you to silence.

“You…”

“Yes, you.”

A sharp inhale as your body recovers from sobs racks your body. Tanjiro pulls your knuckles to his lips and kisses, and you find your breathing erratic again.

“Tanjiro,” you start, and he pulls your face closer.

“I’ve loved you for a really long time,” he says, and the adoration in his eyes makes it so clearly true, sparkling in the moonlight. Your mind’s eye spins memories like films, every time he’s been too close, every time he’s been too careful, every time he’s wanted to be with you above everyone else.

“Are you sure?” you ask. It’s the lamest of things that you can ask but you have to hear it from him, the man who loves everything and everyone, that would choose anything before himself. 

“As sure as my blade.”

Your lips meet in a kiss that dizzies you before you can find his last statement cheesy. When the haze clears, you think of Aoi again, you see Kanao in your mind’s eye watching Tanjiro, butterflies in her hair.

“What about Kanao? She needs you.”

“I need you.”

He kisses you again, and this time you’ve lost all your reservations, perhaps too easily, your arms reaching around his neck to deepen the kiss.  You’ve never needed to tell him you loved him because it was written all over your face. It’s a part you’ve hated about yourself, that no matter how badly you’ve tried to limit your emotions, all comes spilling out through your words and actions. He might have known before you even did, your penchant for devotion spilling into every word you spoke to him, smiles you couldn’t quite temper.

Your friends saw it, Aoi saw it, Kanao saw it, the heavens above must have seen it.

Most importantly, he saw it. 

The tears remain free-flowing, now cathartic. You breathe in his love as he continues to kiss you, your lips, your neck craned, your back now supported by the tree that knows your poorly-kept secret.

“Tanjiro, I love you,” you admit finally, your noses just inches apart, breathless.

“I know,” he whispers. He smiles and kisses your neck. “And I’m so glad.”

[qin-qin16]

cw.: Dust x Reader, gn!reader, almost non verbal Dust, fluff, Dust lacks communication skills, reader is trying their best to understand him, he actually cares about reader?!

note: He was the first skeleton I wrote about, so I wanted to go back to write a little about him again :D

Dust had always been unusually quiet — almost eerily so. Unlike his counterparts, Killer and Nightmare, he preferred to remain in the background, barely joining in on dinners or group training sessions.

That was fine; you never judged him for it (well, maybe a little at first, to be honest). However, it wasn’t just his isolation and silence that troubled you; it was the lack of communication.

You knew he wasn’t much of a talker — it was possible to count on one hand the times you’d heard his voice — but his complete stillness meant you couldn’t read any body language from him. And if that wasn’t enough, there was also the hood.

That damn hood. If only you could see his face, maybe you’d understand Dust better. Perhaps those bicolored eyes would be more expressive than his lack of movement, or maybe even a smirk, a furrowed brow, or a look of disdain would be more revealing than this complete absence of expression.

Inevitably, your hands went to your face, massaging your temples with some unnecessary force. All these questions and uncertainties were making your headache worse — and Killer’s incessant chatter during breakfast didn’t help at all.

For a moment, you close your eyes and let your mind drift, trying to imagine Dust's possible expressions. Does he maintain eye contact, or does he look away constantly? Does he have any habits like biting his tongue or lips, as you do?

Despite your efforts, nothing comes to mind. It’s already difficult enough to picture Dust doing anything other than sitting still on the couch, watching TV, or standing silently in a corner observing the others. Imagining a range of expressions on his face feels even more daunting — almost impossible.

As you sink further into the couch, feeling a slight ache in your back from the uncomfortable position, a weary sigh escapes your lips.

Just as you’re about to get frustrated with your lack of creativity, a poke on your cheek snaps you back to reality.

“Not now, Killer, you know I’ve got a splitting headache—” you start to say, but your words trail off when you open your eyes and see it isn’t Killer beside you, but the skeleton that’s been occupying your thoughts recently.

Still a bit taken aback, you almost miss the mug he’s offering, gently nudging it toward you as a signal to take it.

“Uh, thanks?” You carefully take hold of the mug, quickly grasping the handle when you realize how hot it is.

You soon catch a faint aroma wafting from the mug. Without hesitation, you inspect the liquid inside: judging by the color and smell, it’s definitely tea, though you can’t tell if it’s magical or herbal.

“It’s mint.” In an instant, your gaze locks onto Dust, who is still standing beside you.

This is one of the few times he’s directly addressed you (maybe the third? Certainly the first time he’s spoken so calmly), and you can’t help but be slightly taken aback.

Dust was offering you tea. Tea. Something usually associated with soothing physical pain and fatigue. Has this Dust actually gone so far as to prepare, serve, and offer tea to you? Did he know about your headache? Wait a minute—

Was he trying to ease your headache?

“Drink it slowly; it’s hot.” And just as quickly as he had appeared, he turned and began to walk away, his steps slow and shuffling. You couldn’t help but wince at the sound of his slippers scraping against the floor.

“Um…” You mutter, your gaze returning to the mug and watching the steam rise gently from it.

Your lips quiver slightly; even though it was a simple gesture, it had deeply touched your heart.

Maybe Dust wasn’t as expressionless and distant as you had believed.

( @howlsofbloodhounds ) forget to tag you moot

[numinousmysteries]

Handfesta

He wants to marry her in a primeval fashion that transcends man and law and God.

MSR/S7ish/Explicit

@today-in-fic [on Ao3]

Although they’d been involved, entwined, inseparable, cosmically linked (take your pick, really) for years, he feared actually being with her would mean making promises he couldn’t keep. He’d want to give her the world: A husband who didn’t feel the urge to drive across the country at the mere suggestion of strange lights in the sky. A home to fill with as many blue-eyed babies as she wanted. Or, at the very least, a dog.

But he can’t marry her. They can’t live together. The babies are a moot point—an especially painful one after their failed IVF attempt. And look what happened to poor Queequeg.

In the end, though, pretending he didn’t love her proved more painful than admitting that he did.

***

1.

If the world didn’t end in the early hours of the new millennium, it certainly shifted on its axis. The sun had yet to rise on the first day of the year and Dana Scully had already let him kiss her, insisted on staying the night at his apartment on the flimsiest of pretenses (to look over his barely fractured radius), and is now—assuming he isn’t hallucinating—naked, astride him, and riding his cock.

He isn’t ready to rule out a drug-fueled hallucination quite yet, although this feels pretty fucking real. Underneath the fingers of his one useful hand, the delicate skin on her hip feels soft and warm. Her scent envelopes him like a halo. Moving his thumb to the wet bud of her clit elicits more of the breathy moans that he could listen to for the rest of his life.

She throws her head back, exposing her pearlescent neck. Earlier on his couch, he lavished the skin there with hungry kisses as he fumbled with the buttons on her blouse. She pulled away briefly to put him out of his misery by freeing herself from her clothing. Then she dragged him by his good arm into the bedroom. She helped him out of his jeans but they didn’t bother getting his t-shirt off with his sling in the way so he kept it on as she got on top of him. The thin gray fabric covering his chest makes him feel oddly chaste like an actress who kept her bra on during sex scenes.

There’s nothing chaste about the way Scully is writhing above him, though. She’s so wet that he’d be nervous she'd slip off of him on each upstroke if she wasn’t also clinging to him so tightly. They shouldn’t fit together this well—fuck, they shouldn’t even get along—but they’ve seen phenomena far more difficult to explain than this, so why not?

She folds forward to kiss him and he sucks greedily at her mouth. Her lips are plump, swollen from the barrage of kisses he assailed her with the moment the apartment door shut behind them. Their New Year’s kiss at the hospital had been restrained, but it was enough to crack open the floodgates between them. They barely spoke on the drive back to his place, both sharply attuned to the new dimension of their partnership. He’d become an expert at reading her moods from across a car’s center console. He knew when she was angry or tired or hungry. Now he knew how it felt to sit beside her and feel raw need emanating off of her. And he knew she sensed it from him as well.

He wants this to last forever, to live in an endless time loop of watching her perfect breasts bounce in sync with the rhythm of her hips and her face contorting in pleasure. He wants to take up permanent residence here and have all his mail forwarded in care of Dana Scully’s glistening, velvety vise of a vagina (although she’d certainly shoot him again if she heard him say anything of the sort out loud). But they’re both so close now and when she arches her pale belly toward him and reaches back to stroke the seam between his rigid balls, he lets go. Seven years of pent up desire rush out of him in desperate hot spurts. She comes in stride, squeezing him dry as her inner walls frantically contract in pleasure.

Once he feels all of her muscles surrounding him relax, he half-expects she’ll disappear like a phantom in the night, the delirium of a love-starved man. She lifts up her hips and rolls over next to him. With her chest flush against his side he can feel the hammering of her heart. Alive, alive, alive is all he hears with each beat. He’s come too close to losing her too many times. The simple mechanism of blood pumping through her body is a holy sound to him. A prayer, an incantation, a vow.

“Let’s get married,” he says, testing his luck.

He suspects she’ll blame it on the painkillers, the orgasm-induced euphoria, the sudden rush of blood away from his brain, but instead she says, “Okay.” Her voice is quiet yet resolute and he questions if he’s been propelled into an alternate reality.

“Okay?” he asks, turning to her and squinting in disbelief.

“That surprises you?”

“Scully, I’ve seen you take more time deciding what you want from a vending machine.”

She shrugs. “You’re my best friend. The only person I’d want to spend every day of my life with. We’ve already made it through the sickness and health part more times than I’d like to count. And we love each other.”

She ticks off the reasons with the same confidence she’d use to explain why a pair of tracks in the woods couldn’t possibly belong to a sasquatch. She loves him. In the first two hours of the new millennium Dana Scully has kissed him, fucked him, and said she loved him. Now he’s even less sure he isn’t hallucinating.

“You know we can’t…really…” he trails off, feeling the heft of reality settle back over him like a dark cloud heavy with rain.

“I know,” she says. She bites her lips and glances down. “But we can be married in all the ways that count.”

“You don’t want a big church wedding? A cake with fondant flowers? A taffeta gown?”

“Taffeta, Mulder? Really?” she smirks.

“You’ll have to excuse me,” he says. “I haven’t been to a wedding in at least a decade. I suppose bridal fashion has evolved.”

“Clearly.” She smiles. “But I’m serious. Marriage is a union based on love, companionship, and trust. We have all of that. I don’t care about the window dressings.”

“We’ve even consummated that union,” he says, trailing his fingertips along her upper arm.

“Yes, we have,” she responds. She rests her palm on the flat of his abdomen just below his t-shirt hem. “For what, I hope, will be the first of many, many times.”

“Wait ‘til you see what I can do with two hands.”

2.

“You were married before,” she says, somewhere on an empty stretch of highway. Of course she brings it up when he’s stuck behind the wheel and can’t escape.

“How did you—”

“The Gunmen told me.” She’s staring shyly at her hands. It’s the first time they’re speaking about Diana since her death.

“Shit, I’m sorry, Scully. I should’ve told you. But it only lasted a few months. I was young and stupid. I convinced her to go down to the courthouse mostly because I was terrified she would leave me. Not that it made a difference. I only told my parents after she fled to Berlin and I needed help from their lawyers to get an annulment. They were scared she’d try to get a big settlement, but I just wanted to forget about it.”

“It’s okay,” she says, still examining her lap and not looking at him. “We met as adults. We’ve been in serious relationships before. There’s no reason to be ashamed.”

“Does it bother you?”

“Honestly,” she turns to face him now. “Not as much as I thought it would.”

“Scully, what we have is so much more—” he pauses to find the words but comes up short.

“I know,” she says, bringing her hand to rest on his thigh. “I know.”

After a few miles of silence she asks slyly, the corners of her mouth arcing into a smile, “Did she wear taffeta?”

“I don’t remember,” he says, and it’s true. An eidetic memory and you’d think he’d remember what his bride wore on what was supposed to be the most important day of his life, but he draws a blank. All he can picture is staring at the gold band she slipped on his finger and trying to convince himself it meant he’d never be alone again.

3.

She has to know he’s up to something when he starts applying his Socratic style to global wedding traditions instead of astral projection or lizard-eyed cryptids.

“Did you know the bouquet toss originated in medieval times and was meant to serve as a distraction so the bride and groom could slip off to their private chambers unnoticed after the ceremony?” He asks her on an airplane on the way back from Chicago.

“I know my cousin Nora once elbowed Missy in the gut to push her out of the way so she could catch one.”

“Ouch,” he winces. “How’d that work out for Nora?”

“She actually did get married the following year to some guy she met on a singles’ cruise. Last I heard, though, he ran away with his secretary and left her with reams of credit card debt,” she says. “And he went bald.”

“You win some, you lose some,” he says. “Did you know wedding rings are traditionally worn on the fourth finger because of the belief that a vein in that finger ran directly to the heart?”

“Well, that’s just inaccurate,” she asserts with a smug smile.

“Did you know that Congolese newlyweds aren’t allowed to smile for the entirety of their wedding day? Or that brides in ancient Rome used to paint their faces red?”

“I did not,” she says, scooting closer to him.

“In the Chinese Yugur culture, the groom shoots his bride with three headless arrows before the ceremony then breaks the arrows in half to symbolize unbroken love.”

“I already shot you once, I don’t think you need to return the favor.”

He playfully reaches for his shoulder and winks at her. “Jews, of course, break a glass for the same reason, while the Greeks smash plates. Did your parents do the whole full Catholic mass hoopla?”

She shakes her head. “My father’s commanding officer married them on base in Norfolk. We pretend not to do the math, but it was only six months before Bill was born.”

Mulder whistles. “Oh, Maggie. Remind me to thank her again the next time I see her.”

“For what?”

“For everything. For you.”

“What about your parents?” She asks.

“Oh, the Kuipers-Mulder wedding was the social event of the summer of ‘59. I think some distant Kennedy cousin even showed up. My mother’s parents didn’t like that he was nearly two decades older than her, and my father’s parents didn’t like that she was Jewish but they had enough money to throw a nice party so it all evened out. Not that any of that pomp and circumstance did them any good when the shit hit the fan.”

“And yet you still believe in marriage,” she ponders.

“I believe in marrying you.”

Even though they have a row to themselves on the plane and everyone around them seems to be asleep or absorbed in a book, he’s still surprised when she leans over to kiss him on the lips. It’s a quick, close-mouthed peck but still more than she’d typically allow in public. They interlock their fingers under the arm rest and he wonders what he ever did to deserve her.

4.

They’re curled toward each other on the motel bed like a pair of parentheses, too wired to sleep. He tells her about seeing the spirit of his sister in a field of dead children. She kisses his brow and pulls his head into her chest. She thankfully doesn’t suggest his vision is the result of a mind warped by grief and stress. The silk collar of her pajama top darkens with his tears and she holds him closer. He’s been cold for so long and her touch is thawing him.

He first told her about his sister in a motel room not unlike this one. Even then, Samantha had already been dead. She’d already been dead when Scully embraced his quest as her own. She’d already been dead when Scully was abducted, when Scully lost her chance at motherhood, when Scully nearly died in a hospital bed from a cancer that had been given to her. He finds it’s this that stings the most—that he made her suffer for nothing.

“She’s been gone this whole time,” he whispers into the hollow of her throat.

“I’m so sorry, Mulder.” She presses her warm lips to the crown of his head, her words muffled in his hair.

It’s been a long day and he can smell her skin and sweat through faded layers of powdery deodorant and woodsy perfume. He likes that she chooses to smell like a forest and not a flower. He likes her natural scent even more.

He’s an orphan now. The last of his kind. And yet, cradled in her arms, this moment feels like a beginning and not an ending. The ties that held him to this earth have been severed and it’s only her firm grasp that’s keeping him from floating away.

“Be my family, Scully,” he says, raising his head up to the pillow so he can meet her gaze.

“Always,” she swears. Her lower lip is quivering and her eyelids are heavy. New tendrils extend, stretching between them, twisting around and around each other, serpentine. They’re interwoven and he never wants to break away. He can stand to lose anything except her.

He kisses her lips softly and feels her starting to cry. Tears stream down their cheeks and it’s impossible to tell which are hers and which are his. She is his home and everything about her feels right. Deepening the kiss, he rolls on top of her.

She brings one small hand to his chest to stop him. “Are you sure, Mulder?”

She asked him the same question in his apartment after autopsying his mother. That night he was seeking numbness and she, rightfully so, wouldn’t give it to him. She bore witness to his pain, holding him as he wept and slipped into a fitful sleep. Tonight, though, he is sure. He’s coming to her purely out of love, to rededicate himself to her.

He nods solemnly and she brings her hands to either side of his face, pulling him in so she can probe his mouth with her tongue. The taste of diner coffee lingers under the artificial mint of her toothpaste.

He takes his time unbuttoning her pajama shirt, revealing the milky skin of her chest. Tracing a trail down the valley between her breasts with his tongue, he pauses at the scar on her abdomen. It’s a reminder of her fragility and her strength. He kisses it to pay tribute to the duality of her nature.

She gasps when he reaches the hem of her pajama bottoms. Lifting her hips up, she lets him ease the silk down her legs and slim ankles. Her presence feels so powerful and all-encompassing that he sometimes forgets how small her actual physical form is. Her feet are so delicate he can’t believe they have the endurance to carry her to crime scenes and autopsy bays and wherever he asks her to follow him. He kisses the arch of each one in gratitude and then lets her pajama pants drop to the floor.

As he works his way back up, she starts spreading her thighs apart in anticipation. He can feel the heat of her sex radiating on his face like the sun before he even reaches the space between her legs. He inhales deeply and takes in her intoxicating essence before dragging his tongue up from the folds of her labia to the nub of her clit. Her thighs tighten around him and she rakes her nails through his hair.

“Mulder,” she begs of him quietly, his name an invitation on her lips.

He answers by latching onto her sex with his mouth, sucking and releasing her clit with increasing speed and intensity. Breathing feels unnecessary when he’s devouring her like this. He can’t be sure if the swirl of dizziness in his head stems from a lack of oxygen or a surge of adrenaline. Either way, he doesn’t come up for air until he sees her clenching the sheets between her fists in his peripheral vision and hears the high-pitched whimper from the back of her throat that lets him know she’s close. He loves making her come this way, knowing he’s able to give her this much-needed release, but now she’s tugging on the sleeves of his t-shirt, pulling him up to meet her.

Rising to his knees, he sheds his shirt and peels off his boxers, freeing the erection that’s been throbbing to the beat of her moans. He pulls a pillow from the other side of the bed and slides it under her hips.

She reaches down between them, taking his length in her hand and confidently guiding him inside her. They’ve done this 12 times in his bed, nine times in hers, thrice on his couch, and now in their sixth motel room (the eidetic memory works when it counts) and yet each time feels like a new discovery.

Tonight feels endowed with a singular significance. He has finally laid his sister, and therefore his quest for her, to rest, and can give himself to Scully fully. The rules feel like loose suggestions now. Why not quit the bureau and run away with her? Why not stake his claim to her in the light of day and marry her in front of everyone they know?

But he’s getting ahead of himself. Right now, there is only this moment—only their bodies gliding together in this timeless dance. They are prehistoric cave dwellers mating on a pelt of wolf fur. They are medieval peasants copulating under the thatched roof of their cottage. They are federal agents making love on the polyester duvet of a budget motel room in Sacramento, California. Plunging into her, he knows he has loved her in every lifetime.

Their bodies find a rhythm that feels as natural as their age-old verbal tête-à-tête. Perhaps after all this time it shouldn’t be such a surprise that they’re so good at this.

“What?” she asks, breathily, and it tears him from his stream of consciousness.

“Hmm?”

“What are you smiling about?”

He must’ve had a shit-eating grin on his face by the way she’s staring at him. It makes him laugh and he collapses on top of her and chuckles into the side of her neck.

“I just can’t believe how lucky I am,” he whispers into her ear.

“We finally found something you don’t believe in,” she says.

He doesn’t know if he wants to smile or cry or keep thrusting into her. Somehow, he manages to do all three and soon they’re both coming hard and likely earning a noise complaint in the process. Fuck it, he thinks, let everyone hear.

After he slides out of her, they’re too mentally and physically exhausted to move so they stay lying atop the covers side by side. The window air conditioning unit kicks on, cooling the damp sweat that coats their skin. Feeling the goose pimples rise on her skin, he maneuvers them onto their sides so he can hold her from behind.

“I officiated a wedding for two of Sam’s Barbie dolls once,” he tells her. The scene surfaces from the hazy sea of his memory. It was months before her disappearance. They’d heard their parents fighting nearly every night that summer and he imagined Sam’s precocious mind grappling with the knowledge that marital bonds could be so brittle.

“Yeah?” she asks hesitantly.

He wants her to know that it’s alright, that talking about his sister feels lighter now.

“Well, I started anyway but I wasn’t taking it seriously so she made me stop and kicked me out of her room.”

“She couldn’t have asked for a better big brother,” she says. He wraps his arms around her and chooses to believe.

5.

His lungs are mostly healed, although he isn’t cleared for active duty yet, when he insists they head back to North Carolina for a “personal mission” over the weekend. She doesn’t want him to risk flying so she agrees to let him pick her up early on Saturday morning for the long drive. They’re on the road before the sun rises.

“I know you’re feeling better, Mulder, but you’re really not up for anything too vigorous,” she says as he steers the car south.

“Well, it’s up to you how vigorous you plan on being on our wedding night.”

He looks over to find her eyebrows predictably raised.

“Open the glove compartment, Scully.”

He takes his eyes off the road just long enough to watch her remove the pamphlet for the Irish-themed bed and breakfast in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains and the braided ivory rope he’d sent away for.

“What is this, Mulder?” Her skeptical tone is replaced by a light, hopeful voice as she examines the rope.

“It’s for our handfasting ceremony.”

Looking over at her again, he sees even more questions in her eyes.

He doesn’t tell her he’s chosen this because their bond is so pure and elemental that he wants to marry her in a primeval fashion that transcends man and law and God; that he wants to tie his soul to hers like the stars are tethered to the sky; that he needs to know that even when their bodies have long decayed and reverted back to base matter, even when the sun has burned out and the universe has collapsed back within itself, that their essences will still be bound together.

He only shrugs and says, “It’s Celtic. Like your ancestors.”

Her smile breaks his heart wide open and he knows she understands.

“We missed May Day—you know, the feast of Beltane, the lusty month, and all of that—but Ewan says the old Neolithic hunter gatherers weren’t too picky about auspicious dates.”

“Ewan?”

“Byers’ cousin. He owns the B&B and does these things from time to time” he says. “But don’t worry, the other two Stooges don’t know anything. I didn’t want to hear Langly’s spiel about the evil capitalist roots of marriage—nor did I have the heart to let Frohike know you’re officially off the market.”

“I appreciate that,” she says with a toothy grin.

“I hope you’re not upset I sprung it on you like this,” he says.

“Oh, Mulder,” she sighs. “A pagan ceremony preceded by a mysterious seven-hour road trip with a 5 a.m. wakeup call is the only way I would ever expect to marry you. Truly, if you got down on one knee with a diamond ring after a candlelit dinner I’d probably immediately order a CT scan to check you for a cerebral hemorrhage.”

The old stone home that houses the B&B looks straight out of a fairy tale. It’s drizzling when they pull up and he starts humming a few bars of Alanis Morisette. She catches his eye and he winks at her.

“Rain is considered good luck in Italy and India,” he says.

He fetches their luggage from the trunk of the car and follows her inside. There’s no check-in desk, just a cozy living room with overstuffed floral furniture, a wood-burning fireplace, and Ewan waiting for them.

He’s only a little disappointed when Byers’ cousin turns out to be a gentle-looking older man dressed in a flannel shirt and hiking boots and not a bearded druid priest clad in white robes and a crown of antlers.

“Agents Mulder and Scully,” he says, shaking their hands. “It’s such a pleasure to meet you. John has told me so much about you. I’m honored to be a part of your sacred day. Why don’t I show you to your room and give you some time to freshen up before the ceremony?”

He leads them up a creaky flight of stairs to their room. It isn’t much larger than their standard roadside motel room but has far more character. A linen bedspread with Celtic knots woven in emerald thread covers the four-poster bed and there’s a wooden rocking chair in the corner that looks like it’d made the journey from the old country.

“Take your time,” Ewan says as he heads out. “You can meet me downstairs whenever you’re ready.”

After he closes the door behind him, Scully crosses the room to envelope Mulder in an embrace, resting her head under his chin.

“This is perfect,” she mumbles against the fabric of his sweater. “Thank you.”

They take turns using the bathroom and then head back downstairs. Ewan leads them through the B&B’s tidy eat-in kitchen and out the back door.

“Did any ancient mystics speak of the significance of a bride wearing jeans?” Scully whispers to Mulder as they follow Ewan to a clearing in the woods.

“I’m sure if any of them ever got a chance to see what your ass looked like in that pair, white dresses never would’ve made the cut.”

They’re walking hand-in-hand and she gently nudges his upper arm with her shoulder. After months of playing platonic in public, getting to touch her out in the open like this—even with the woods and John Byers’ cousin as their only witnesses—feels like taking a deep breath after being submerged underwater for too long.

“We’ve made it,” Ewan says, leading them to the center of a circle made from small stones. He guides them to stand face to face and take each other’s right hand.

Mulder recalls the first time they touched—shaking her hand on the morning she entered his office. He remembers her fresh-faced energy and how she met all his theories and hunches with fully formed counterarguments; how they improvised the steps of a dance that would become second nature over the years. Locking eyes over their hands, she smiles at him and he knows she’s reliving the same moment.

Despite whatever attempts she made to tame her hair into submission back in DC, the humidity and light drizzle in the woods bring out the soft frizz he loves to run his fingers through. He thinks of a downpour in an Oregon graveyard, the first time the peal of her laugh struck a chord in his soul.

He hands the rope over to Ewan who starts wrapping it around their linked hands and explaining the meaning of the ceremony. The words—commitment, love, intention—wash over him. He knows he could spend years studying the OED, the works of Byron or Neruda, and still never find a combination of letters that describe how much he loves the woman standing in front of him. For two people who rely on words to explain, argue, dispute, and affirm, they’re shockingly bad at expressing what they mean to one another using language. Or perhaps they’d reached as far as words could take them and only stumbled when they had to take the next step without any.

Ewan has looped the cord around their wrists and tied it in a string of nautical-looking knots that make Mulder wonder if Scully is reminded of her father. Ewan has them repeat a series of vows to each other. The words echo through their lips but Mulder knows they can only begin to encapsulate the commitment they’ve already made to each other. There’s no point in the ceremony where they’re instructed to kiss, but he does it anyway when Ewan stops speaking, leaning in to open her lips with his and feel the slick warmth of her mouth. Does it feel different now that they’re married (at least in some spiritual sense)? He isn’t sure, but he plans on conducting more experiments once they’re back in their room alone.

They break apart and Ewan looks up from the ground where he’d been staring in respectful silence.

“A first handfasting represents an engagement or a trial marriage. The ceremony is repeated in a year and a day to formalize the union,” Ewan says. “It’s tradition, I promise. Not just a way to stir up repeat business.”

“Well, same time next year, I suppose. Put us in the books,” Mulder says, looking down at their bound hands and then up at Scully’s wet eyes. She gives him the softest smile and a gentle laugh. A year, a day, and a millennium from now and, he knows, they will still be tied together.

They wear no rings. They sign no papers. Their union isn’t documented in any official records. By the time they get back inside and warm up with cups of coffee, the faint lines left on their wrists by the cord have faded. The interstitial fluid under the skin has redistributed itself, restoring equilibrium, but their internal balance has been forever recalibrated.

***

A year and a day passes. He dies and she brings him back to life. She gives birth to their son and then begs him to leave.

Their anniversary does not find him reunited with her in the foothills of the Blue Ridge Mountains but alone in the desert of New Mexico. Of the few personal belongings he took when he fled, the one he holds most dear is the braided ivory rope she pressed into his hands on their last day together. I’ll bring it back, he vowed.

The cord is yellowed from the oils of his fingertips constantly worrying over it and the dust of the desert, but he holds it tighter on this day. He doesn’t know when he’ll be able to safely return to her and to William, but he intends to keep this promise.

[vixensbrainrotts]

Happy Birthday, lover — Manjiro <Mikey> Sano

Content: specialty post

Tropes: established relationships, it‘s readers birthday, kind of a continuation of the ‚Committed to you‘ series

Summary: it‘s your birthday! Let‘s see what your darling lover has in store for you once you get home…

Vixen‘s two cents: Hello hello hello! This is a special piece because guess what? It’s @anahryal ‘s b-day!!!! Happy birthday moot, hope you‘re treated well, and all the best for the coming year! Anyway, i was a little unhappy with this, i cant do half as much as i usually can cause im like really sick right now (its stunting all my intelligence) so yeah, sorry if this isn’t up to standard… either way, happy birthday and enjoy!!!

Mikey had never really put much effort into anything, things just had a tendency of coming to him. But for this, for today he had planned in and out, checked up and down to make sure that everything was working out.

In terms of gifts he learned to be resourceful. From checking your perfumes to see which ones you were running low, on to crossing the ethical boundary of snooping into your journal to check the “wanted” list of items you fancied.

He double checked with your best friend for your favorite type of flowers and even attended a Mitsuya-special baking course to personally make you a cake.

It was a struggle and a half to try and time the whole thing right, between grocery store runs to get the supplies and decorations to somehow getting you out the house to hopefully set everything up.

Now he sat at the kitchen counter, completely winded and waiting for your arrival back. He had everything done and dusted, and was just eagerly awaiting your arrival.

When he heard your car pull up into the driveway, he snapped out of little phase and brushed off the dress shirt he had put on earlier, breaking into a quick jog towards the living room where he had set everything up.

There were garlands hung across the room, and the coffee table had been turned into a gift display table. A large bouquet was placed in the center, wrapping paper and gift bags coordinated to match the floral display.

The cake was placed on the formal dining table, two sets of dishes, glasses and utensils set out for the both of you to dine on later.

Mikey’s eyes drifted over everything once more, and widened once they spotted an unlit candle on top of the fire place. That’s right, he had bought a specific candle for today, one he had found when shopping for ingredients for the cake. It caught his eye, and when he gave if a big sniff, the scent didn’t seem too bad either.

With a smile on his face, he grabbed the candle and pulled a lighter from his back pocket. The lighter was yours, he noted, looking down at the pretty pink plastic as he lit the ‘birthday cake’ candle. Fitting.

He heard your keys jingle in the lock and caught himself almost giggling as he made a quick pace to meet you at the door.

“Majiro! I’m home!” You called out, voice rather cheerful (seemingly in a good mood, Mikey said a quick prayer thanks). You turned around to face the door when hanging up your coat, unaware of your darling husband creeping up behind you.

Slowly, Mikey approached and waited for the right moment to strike. “Mikey?” You called again, just about to turn around when a pair of hands were clasped across your face, shrouding your vision.

“AHH!”

Your hands flew to your face, grabbing at those that held your eyes shut, a bit more than derailed as your scrambled to gain recognition. You were about to scream again when your fingers found and felt the very familiar ring that donned the left hand over your face.

“Mikey?” You said, entirely confused as you finger the ring again to confirm your suspicions.

“Hey baby.” His voice mumbled into your ear, and you could hear the smile in his voice. “Manjiro what are you-?” You started, but felt him push you forward to walk, taking baby steps towards what you thought to be the living room.

“Trust me.” He spoke as he guided you towards somewhere within your shared home. “Alright..” you trailed off, now smiling a little unsurely yourself.

You allowed him to push you towards somewhere, giggling a little as he chose this to be a good moment to place tiny little pecks down your neck and nape.

“Mikey shouldn’t you be focusing on where we’re going or-“ you smiled as you held his hands. “Nah don’t worry baby, we’re here anyway.”

In an instant he pulled his hands away to reveal your living room, decked out and dressed to the nines, a cute display set up, just for you. “Happy birthday sweets!”

“Oh my gosh, Jiro…” you turned around to look at him. “You did this all for me?” You looked at the display, seeing the flowers and the gifts all daintily wrapped.

“Yeah… i mean why wouldn’t I? I had the day off anyway, so I figured I should do something sensical, especially cause it’s your special day, right?”

(That’s a lie, he groveled on his knees to one of his coworkers to switch shifts and spent half of his overtime to get today off.)

“Manjiro…” You turned to look at him again, eyes glossing over with emotion. “Thank you…” you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him into a tight hug.

“Anything for you.” He hugs you back and nuzzles into your hair, swaying you lightly from one side to the other. “Now please babes let’s eat the cake, I’ve been resisting it since I got done with it.” He pulled away with a wide grin.

“You made me a cake?!” You gasped in delight as you looked at the beautifully decorated delicacy that sat on the dining table. „Yeah, you dont want to know what i went through to get it right…“ Mikey trailed off remembering the many, many failed attempts at cake that Mitsuya had to coach him through.

„Oh my goodness Mikey… this is, i- thank you so much!“ You preached to him again. „Alright now, how about you open those gifts so that you can thank me more and then eat cake together?“ He had a twinkle in his eye as he pushed you towards the gifts with a hand placed on the small of your back, giving you an encouragement to progress further into the room.

„Open this one first!“ he plucked one of the bags from the display and thrust it in your hands, sitting himself on the couch in neat anticipation. „Alright…“ you smiled at him and pulled the topper paper from the bag, revealing… „Manjiro! How did you know?“ your voice sounded even more cheerful than he had anticipated, and the mini-Mikey inside his head did a celebration dance.

„Well, i know you love those crafty things, especially the knitty gritty things that i cant wrap my head around… You know, i wanted to make you a heart out of those yarns that you always use to decorate that bag, but after trying and failing about a million times, i figured i should leave it to the professionals… also you wouldn‘t shut up about fluffy yarn so…“ he monologued to you as you scanned the insides of the bag, pulling out the colorful yarn.

„And baby, i was thinking, for all my hard work and cause you love me and all such wonderful things that you could maybe, just maybe, and hear me out on this… make me one of those delightful scarves you‘ve been making for all your friends but not me??? Preferably not in pink though, ill take a red one instead.“

You giggled heartily and pulled him into another hug. „Of course i will, it‘s only fair, right? Yarn is like, super expensive so yeah, i wouldn’t mind giving back…“ you smiled at him and pulled away with a quick peck to his cheek, to which he cradled his face with a bashful expression.

All these years that you spent together, as friends, as lovers, as a couple, as fiancée’s and now… married… No matter how much time would pass, Manjiro knew that he had found everything he wanted in you, and he‘d be damned to let it go.

[inkysquelched]

Them.

I drew my bozos and there’s nothing you can do about it. Now get ready for a long post as I talk about my headcannons for them. Feel free to ask me anything about them, I love rambling:

Agent 3: Has a major RBF, but she’s nice I promise you. She’s been enjoying her role as captain but was overwhelmed at first.

Weapon preferences: shooters, chargers

Fave Special: Splashdown

Agent 4: Just vibing honestly, she’s gotten pretty good at hacking/research over the years.

Weapon preferences: daulies, brushes

Fave Special: Boyah Bomb

Agent 8: Curses in octarian at least 5 times a day. Remarkably relaxed despite all the bs shes been through.

Weapon preferences: shooters

Fave Special: Triple Inkstrike

Neo 3: A chaotic child, will occasionally eat stuff off the floor.

Weapon preferences: tri-stringer, blasters if shes feeling spicy

Fave Special: Super Chump

Some Honorable Mentions:

3 has a major sweet tooth and she won’t apologize for it. (shes awful with spicy food tho gchfxgfz)

Neo really likes bread.

8 will eat the most criminally offensive spicy food without a reaction.

3 likes to sleep in her squidform, it’s kinda weird to others. It’s honestly more worrying if she doesn’t shift forms. (hc that people usually only do that when theyre really sick…..and then theres 3)

4 listens to her music too loud.

3 and 4 bicker all the time, but it rarely gets to a point where they’re actually upset. They especially fight about how to lead on missions (this is moot bc 3 is the captain lol) because 3 prefers the “slow and steady” approach and 4 prefers to play “fast and loose”, if that makes sense. (8s just here for the ride)

The squid sisters like to say that 3 and 4 are twins and they both hate it.

3 is a runaway, Neo is an orphan. Different circumstances, same outcome. They relate to each other a lot and I think thats awesome (and sad).

Neo (and 8) will occasionally say some out of pocket shit without realizing just how messed up it really is: “what? you’ve never had to eat out of the trash before?”

3 is very emotionally numb and has a hard time expressing any care towards others, so she ends up showing it through favors/giving advice/“are you ok?”s. She’ll tell you to put on a jacket when it’s 70 degrees out lol. (this is also why she’s a mess around 8, those are feelings she has no idea how to deal with)

3 is terrified of being sick (like bedridden sick, haha sanitization go brr) and will inwardly panic the whole time.

3 has the worst alcohol tolerance behind Marie and 4. (Callie will drink 12 shots of vodka without flinching)

Octolings have a very different view on relationships than inklings do; inklings will date/marry out of love while octolings will treat it more as a transaction (not saying they can’t, love just isn’t a priority). 8 as had and infatuation for 3 for years but doesn’t act on it because she wasn’t sure if she really felt the way she did. She knows inklings hold more weight to relationships and didn’t want to risk hurting 3 if she was wrong. (the events of side order really helped her figure it out)

After the events of Splatoon 2, 4 took a back seat on being an agent. Less frontlines and more research focused. (like Marie lol) She hated this at first, but grew to like it.

3s alter ego is DJ Sango, she uses her rapping/singing to vent. 4 and 8 play dumb and pretend they don’t know about her account. (They both listen to her music tho 😶)

8 is extremely calm, you’d have to be trying to piss her off.

Inklings are like mood rings, there tentacles will change color depending on their mood (think like streaks or spots of other colors) The more intense the emotion, the deeper the color.

8 and 3 both have to clean/replace their weapon filters more often than most but for different reasons: for eight its bc shes an octoling (their ink is more abrasive) while 3 has thicker ink than normal as the last remnant of being partially sanitized.

3 isn’t actually as stinky as the squid sisters will have you believe. She one time came back from a mission smelling particularly RANKED that day, and they’ve never let her live it down.

There’s probably more but I can’t think of any rn

k bye <3

[dumplingprincessextraordinaire]

I’m going to give myself some time sit on it and think more, maybe look for more perspectives and info on it but as of now, my gut reaction to pro paraphilia stuff is kinda “ummm idk about that” at the moment. To be clear y’all aren’t on my DNI list, I’m just iffy/nervous about it. Because my comfort and acceptance currently goes toward FICTIONAL taboos (hence my proship stance) but people who have attractions toward irl beings that can’t consent …. Yeah even if you’re anti contact I don’t know if it’s a good idea to advertise that you’re still supportive of them as people. But idk. Maybe “paraphilia” isn’t as scary as it sounds.

But recently a pro-para blog followed me (I won’t be saying names because they didn’t harm me and also backed off when I asked them to not interact with me) and told me straight up they were a map (I don’t even like that word, would rather just call them pedos to be honest) but were anti contact. Like okay, it’s great you’re not hurting anyone but to be honest I still don’t want pedos or people who are attracted to real animals anywhere near me.

Yes, to be fair, not EVERYONE uses darkship or kinks as a coping mechanism but let’s be honest, a lot of us still do. I use darkship and lolicon stuff to vent and explore what I’ve been through as a teen. So seeing people in the proship community saying “well I still support people with harmful paraphilias, just not contact” STILL makes me very uncomfortable?? Scared?

And on a greater level even just beyond me, I also think it’s going to make it ten times harder to advocate for proshipping. I mean it’s already kinda hard to explain that pro/darkshipping is ultimately harmless and non-toxic, but yall advertising being “pro” for anything to do with irl attractions (harmful attractions, to be clear) MAKES IT EVEN HARDER AND FRUSTRATING WHEN CONVERSING WITH NORMIES/NONPROSHIPPERS.

Lastly, when it comes to people struggling with irl attractions that are dangerous or sexual disorders in that category, I don’t necessarily know if it’s our place? Like yeah we can debate and advocate all day long for expressing fiction freely and anti-censorship but most of us still aren’t mental health professionals and idk if we should be putting out a stance on shit like this. I mean. Irl people with dangerous, harmful attractions to irl potential victims.

I hope this post didn’t come across as mean or attacking anyone because I don’t want it to. I think I have a few propara moots following me (I’m only just now kinda learning what it is) so if y’all can educate me, the comments and reblogs are y’all’s place to do it. Maybe this whole propara thing isn’t even as big in the proship community as it looks or maybe “pro para” isn’t even as scary as I’m seeing it currently. Im open to opinions and education what not. But ofc personal attacks and stuff will be blocked!

Edit:to be clear—I still don’t want irl pedos or zoophiles to interact. But propara blogs in general may, as I’m not saying that automatically makes someone pedo/zoo/whatever else is harmful.

[ikkosu]

In your opinion in the fan space is Prowl a popular or unpopular character? I love how much attention you give him but it’s been a little hard finding other blogs that do. Wasn’t sure if it was just because he isn’t as popular or something

I adore prowl, for personal and uh, lusftul reasonf BAHAHHJHA. my opinion and rant below I guess?

I dont really know how to answer this question, I’m terrible at expressing my opinions without short circuiting every second but I do think Prowl is quite popular (not as popular as the fandom’s babygirls : Ratchet, Starscream, and etc but you get the gist) and for both popular and unpopular reasons is he so.

Especially, with him being known as the Pricktm, and just generally an asshole (which I don’t really believe). I mean, he is an asshole but c’mon. It’s often I see he’s characterized by his unlikable traits, which in turn, antagonizes him often (where is his sassy side!!!) and I do find those jokes funny but at a certain point I get irked when that’s the only thing they could see about him.

I know some prowl lover’s already made this point, but he’s so much more than the typical cold calculating Autobot with no other hobbies than committing war crimes. The only reason I welcomed that aspect mostly because it’s funny and also because i usually keep his deeper character analysis to myself, since I relate to his character a little too deeply as well. (Not on the war crimes part, I am anything but a war criminal)

Especially when prowl would be introduced into ES and immediately everyone just immediately assume prowl!!! Asshole!! I want him to be mean!! I do agree it would be funny if he is, and his arc of being lovable towards everyone would be heartwarming, but come on… even in the shows they’d anataginize him for being logical and calculating, it’s frustrating when most of the things he said are right (okay he’s a bit too much on the organic thing, prowl seriously) but I love how prowl is in ES his personality is perfect. He’s affectionate, he listens and he still has his typical prowl personality that I like.

okay I’m going off on a tangent now. Uh, anyways back to prowl. As for the other blogs that don’t talk much about prowl, I guess it depends on who they like. But I was a little confused, maybe it’s because I’m talking about prowl often and most of my moots love prowl and most of my followers love prowl so I’m in the prowl zone of tumblr, so I get a lot of things related to prowl ahaha so I was like wait people don’t talk about prowl? But it’s only recently I noticed that Prowl is getting popular. I have no idea why, though.

conclusion : yes, he’s quite popular. It also normally depends on the blog if they like him or not.

[floralifetime]

Toruk Makto’s Sister

Warning: Very bad writing, maybe some gramatical error (English si not my first language, so be gentle), some bad words, one episode of bullism, mention of death, mention of mourning, mention of grieving.

Previous chapter ➡️ Next chapter

⚠️⚠️The image is not mine, all credits to the owner.⚠️⚠️

Chapter n.2 Welcome Jakey.

“I didn't choose you, but I still love you and I wouldn't change you for the world. Thanks for being here, big brother.”

“Y/N they have arrived, do you want to go and see if your brother is with them?” Norm Spellman, one of the scientists I befriended and who trained with my brother, looks at me with concern. He knows how much Tommy's death has hurt me and he thinks going alone to see Jakey isn't the best idea, but he can't accompany me, he has a backlog of work. I hold my breath, clenching my hands into fists so hard my knuckles turn white, staring straight ahead but not really seeing what's there. I haven't seen Jakey in person since I got back here for training, and I can't deny that I wish I could have seen him under far better circumstances than Tommy's death, but whatever, there's no other choice. 

I'm still very happy to see Jakey again, but at the same time I can't help but wonder if I'll actually get to see him, he and Tommy are twins, what if I'm not as ready to see him as I thought I was? If I couldn't stand the sight of him why would he remind me too much of Tommy? If this reaction of mine hurt Jakey I could never forgive myself for it, and on the other hand his presence could serve as the last indicator that I have learned to live with the pain of his death, no matter how much they say, time doesn't heal anything, it teaches you to live with your pains, because some are so strong that they will never really go away, they will always stay with you, but the wound heals and this is what allows you to look forward. "Yes." I answer.

When I arrive I rush into the room, scanning the newcomer capsules with my eyes and there he is, he is waking up but I can't help but recognize him, my big brother is here, he has arrived. I made a strangled sound, bringing my hands to my mouth with a few tears squeezing out, blinked them away and started running towards his pod. "Jakey!" I squeal as I rush to him with a toothy grin, lightly slap my hands on the glass as my brother opens his eyes wide and smiles seeing me so excited, he tries to move but I wave him off as I address the nurse next door who enjoyed the mooted interaction, Tommy's death was scandalous, after all. "Excuse me, can I open the capsule and hug my brother again? Will it be okay if I do it now?" The girl nodded and I didn't get told twice, I opened the capsule quickly while he, as usual, instead of listening to me does the exact opposite, the familiarity of this attitude is reassuring. As soon as I manage to open it, I help him sit up then I wrap my arms around his neck and hold him close to me as if I was afraid he would disappear, and indeed he was, I was afraid that if I let go he would disappear, like in a I dream, when I would have opened my eyes again. Jakey hugs me back, placing a hand on the back of my neck and starting to softly stroke my hair, I didn't even realize I started crying with joy until I hear Jakey's voice whisper “Shh, don't worry Sweetie. Your big brother is here, it's alright…” I sigh and smile at the same time, my brother's affection always warms my heart no matter what the occasion.

“Jakey, I'm sorry…Tommy, he's…” I hear him nod “I know, I know…” “Could you see him?” I retort and he replies: "Yes, you weren't authorized to travel... It's not a nice act on the part of your superiors." I nod and rest my forehead against his shoulder “I know, but they had good reasons not to give me permission. In order to travel you have to…Be fit, and I wasn't because…I was having some health problems.” “And what would they be? Why didn't you mention it in your last letter?” I was afraid this question would come from him, but honesty is always the best way in general, but above all it is recommended with stubborn people like Jakey. “Because…Because I didn't want to weigh you down. I didn't want you to worry, and they weren't disabling in everyday life, but they were enough to prevent me from making a further journey from here to Earth, my body couldn't handle it and it was a risk my superiors didn't want to take." Despite the happiness I felt for seeing him again, the discussion had led to silence on the part of both of us, the only noise we could hear between us was Jakey's hand constantly stroking my hair. Just when I was about to pull away slightly from him, fearing I'd pissed him off, his sweet voice reaches my ears again.

“I can understand both your attitude and that of your superiors, I would be lying if I said I wouldn't have done the same if I were you or them.” Jakey tapped his fingertip gently on my temple, mimicking the way we communicated as kids. I'm only a year younger than Jakey and Tommy and I've always been very affectionate, which means that I would have hugged my brothers and I would not have easily detached them, on the other hand it's not like they could just hold me, given the little age difference, this prompted us to "invent" our own "language" to communicate. It's not that it was who knows what, but it was one of the few things our parents let us do without punishing or scolding us, they have never been so good to us, just as the Earth itself is no longer good to its inhabitants, but this it's only our fault and we have only ourselves to blame for it, no one else. In any case, it is sweet that this way of doing has reached our adulthood intact without being lost. I pulled away slightly and his blue eyes mirrored in mine e/c, my brother smiles and strokes my tear-stained cheek, delicately as if he fears damaging me further. We look at each other for a couple of minutes and I realize he's very pale, I didn't remember him that haggard, and only then does the realization hit me, so eager to hug him again after all this time and after Tommy died, I didn't even make sure that he was fine. My eyes widen and, before I can calm down, I speak up “Jakey, I'm sorry I should have asked first, how are you? How are you feeling?” Jakey chuckles and twists a finger in a strand of my h/c and h/l hair. "I'm fine, Sis, don't worry." "If you lie it doesn't reassure me, you know?" I retort. His laughter echoes softly throughout the room, it's contagious to me, I can't hold back a smile that creeps rapidly across my face. “Still got some temper, huh?” I nod and he resumes "Anyway, I'm a little nauseous and my head is spinning...Is that normal?" I don't even need to turn to the nurse, I don't even know if she's still here actually, to nod. While preparations were being made on Earth to convince Jakey to come here, I wasted no time in inquiring about all the symptoms he might experience when he woke up and how to remedy them.

I rummaged in the shoulder bag I'd been carrying around, pulling out some light snacks that she could eat to curb the nausea, and handed them to her. “Eat, this will make your stomach turn.” I smile. “Have you really thought of everything, hmm?” she laughed as he grabbed the snacks and started eating them. "Of course, my brother deserves the best available." Jakey laughed again as he ate them and I gently pressed his head to my chest, kissing his hair softly. We stayed like this for a couple of minutes, just long enough to finish the snack, then we waited another two/three minutes for him to go away from the dizziness, I helped him sit in his wheelchair and accompanied him to the shuttle that would take us back Back at the base where our Avatars are kept, my brother and I talked the whole way.

“Jakey, can I push you?” My brother looks at me and sighs, nodding. He has always been very independent, despite the injury, he never accepts help from anyone, except that he can't say no to me. I smiled and began to push him behind the line of soldiers who were exiting the plane and entering the base. “Well well, guys, look at how much fresh meat here! Ahh, look at this one... She's a nice morsel, I'm telling you!" One of those who was waiting for the newcomers could not help expressing his unsolicited and decidedly inappropriate opinion. I looked him up and down for a couple of minutes, he was stripping me with his eyes, I don't even wonder why he doesn't have a girlfriend, his unhappy outing about him speaks for itself. “Very kind of you, I wish I could say the same about you but…I'd be lying, and I'm not a good liar. Sorry."

His cronies burst out laughing at their friend's expression as Jakey performs his usual protective act “Keep your eyes dirtier than the inside doorknob of public bathroom away from my bastard sister, or I'll teach you a lesson in chivalry!” I chuckled as I pushed Jakey towards the cafeteria, where the meeting that all newcomers have to attend takes place. Once inside I knelt beside him, to be level with him and rested my hands on the arm of the chair, looking into his eyes. “Here is the meeting you need to attend, okay? I have to go, the meeting is only for newcomers like you, when it's over I'll pick you up, so we can stay together a little longer, ok?” She nods, we hug quickly and I go out to join Trudy, I promised her that I would help her with the maintenance and care of her flying jewels.

“Hey, Trudy!” I greet her as I catch up with her, smiling spontaneously to herself for the first time in a while. “Hey…Wow, nice smile. Has your brother arrived?" I nod as I hug her, it doesn't matter if she's all dirty or sweaty, I've never been a picky eater when it comes to giving hugs to my friends. "You're better, I'm really happy about it." she whispers as I feel her hug back. “Yes, the pain will never really go away, he is always my brother and I will miss him until I reach him, but I am happy that I knew him, happy that he was my brother, happy that his love gave me memories that no one will be able to steal." Trudy chuckles softly, she's always said she likes my "wisdom." “Who knows where your wisdom comes from.” "Nowhere." I reply. “I always thought you were smart, I wasn't wrong. And now, let's get to work so you finish in time to show your brother the bodies you're going out with." I nod and get to work with her, talking about the mechanics and history of her planes, I also had to hear her complain that her colleagues had ruined her Samson.

Once finished, I joined Jakey in the cafeteria, he was leaving when someone, perhaps in the mood for a fight, purposely stood in front of my brother at the last moment, pretending they hadn't seen him move. “Oh, watch out!” "Be careful you fucking handicapped!" My eyes widened at the fellow's words, and just as Jakey was about to retort, I placed myself between them both. “Of course…Some people are mythological creatures, with a human body and a dick head. The Dickheads. Have you ever heard them?" I smile candidly at him while he, confused by my sudden appearance, stares at me in disbelief and shakes his head. “Oh, too bad, because I see one right here in front of me.” Jakey bursts out laughing as the individual recovers from the initial confusion and glowers at me. "Well, look here, he's being defended by a little girl!" “Wow…My compliments for the originality, you deserve a lot of applause…Yes, with your head in the middle.” I turn to my brother and give him a complicit wink, he continues to laugh. That character's gaze becomes even more idiotic than before and I didn't think it could get any worse. “You have a sharp tongue, I like it.” "Thank you, please place your opinion on one of the tables in the cafeteria." I retort and, since I wanted to end the discussion quickly, I resume the conversation before he has time to respond. “That's about if you like me, if you don't like me, well…Then go line up with the others so you all wait together for me to give a shit.” I joined Jakey in laughing as I winked at the man who grunted in frustration as he walked away, not having found fights as easy as he probably hoped. “You did good, little sister.” Jakey congratulates me, not that he said anything. "Thanks, I didn't want to argue for a long time, we don't have time to waste." I answer smiling. “Can I push you again, big brother?” I ask again, Jakey's laugh slowly fading and he raises an eyebrow. “You know I prefer to move by myself as much as possible.” “Yeah, I know…” I curled my lip slightly and made my classic beaten puppy expression and he moaned knowing he couldn't deny me anything. "Tommy never taught me to say no to you." he moaned again and I smiled "Even he couldn't do much in the sense of denial... Neither of you could say no to me." I giggle. "At least Tommy resisted more, I always gave in first." we both laugh until Norm's voice cuts us off.

“Y/N! So how did it go?” I turn in the direction of the voice to see a specimen of Norm Spellman walking briskly towards us. “Oh, hey Norm! I would say quite well, are we late, by any chance?” Norm joins us and denies it, then lets his gaze fall on my brother. “You must be Jake Sully, right? Hello, I'm Norm Spellman! I did Avatar training with your brother and just finished it.” Jake shakes his hand vigorously. "Hello, Norm. Yes, I'm Jake, I'm Y/N's older brother and Tommy's twin." he looks at me “Late for what, exactly?” “Oh, but to see your Avatar bodies. Follow me guys, I'll take you to the labs." Norm answers the question even though it was clearly aimed at me. Before Jakey could say anything, I started pushing his chair following Norm, his resigned sigh making me laugh. “Norm, so it's true? Shall we go out tomorrow on a mission?” enthusiasm shines through my voice, I've always longed to come here to Pandora, ever since I was little and, despite dreams and things changing from childhood to adulthood as it is normal, this dream on my part does not it never disappeared. “Of course, we will all go out together tomorrow night, today we will take the last test of the Avatars.” he replies. “Everyone who?” Jakey asks. “Oh, me, Norm, Grace and you.” I answer. Jakey turns to look at me amazed “Can I go out tomorrow already? Really?" I nod. "Sure, your Avatar body should be ready, or at least, last I checked it was ready." Norm speaks up again and doesn't seem to be letting her go anytime soon. “Ok, Jake welcome, this is the area used for the use of the laboratories, this part leads to the bio-lab. We'll be spending a lot of time up here, you'd better get used to it." Jakey looks at me with a raised eyebrow and I shrug smiling kindly, Norm is ecstatic, it's clear as day. "To the right is the connecting chamber, that's where we connect the various Avatars to our human bodies." my brother nods "Sorry, but can we now see our Avatars?" he asks, probably already suspicious that the bodies aren't actually ready and that Norm has the thankless job of distracting us to buy the others time. “Oh yes, sure! This way, come on!” replies the scientist and takes us to finally see the Avatars, or rather, the Avatar that Jakey will wear, the one that should have belonged to Tommy. He was wonderful, just perfect and enchanted everyone. So caught up in admiring the Avatar we didn't notice a man in a white coat joining us. "It's fantastic, isn't it?" he asks, catching both of us by surprise, making me yell in a decidedly unflattering way. 

Max, that's the name of the new addition to the group, laughed. “Sorry, sorry Y/N, I didn't mean to scare you. You are admiring the Avatar, huh? What do you think, do you like it?” “Sure, it's just perfect. There's nothing more to say." I replied. "It's big. When did he grow up so much?” Jakey asked. “During your journey, the Avatars fully develop as their human counterpart reaches Pandora from Earth.” I explain and both Norm and Max nod "That means the propioceptive sims work perfectly, it's a relief to know for sure." sighs Norm. We said goodbye to Max who had some work to fix and we stayed a few more minutes admiring Jakey's body. "It's...Identical to him." sighs, I smile sadly placing a hand on his shoulder. “No, he is the same as you. It's yours now." Jakey smiles. "But where is my sister's?" he asks, after a moment's pause. "Yes, where is mine? Everything went fine?" I worry as Norm smiles and motions us to follow without saying anything. Jakey and I look at each other and then we follow him, Norm guides us to a side room, where Max is already checking some papers, and my Avatar is lying in a capsule.

“Leave my chair, go see your Avatar, I can move by myself, you know.” I turn to Jakey and see him nod, so I leave him alone and go to press my face against the glass that encloses my Avatar. It was...Absolutely breathtaking. Her hair are h/l and h/c, with a braid, her body resembles me only in some details, since her shape is much more similar to a feline, only bipedal, as the Na'vi are on the other hand. The skin is of a well distributed dark blue, the color becomes lighter on the face going from dark blue to light blue, obviously the skin is all covered with white dots that look like our freckles, to protect it from the heat of the sun, while the streaks act as a perfect outline on the body, resembling the streaks of a land tiger, just a little lighter. I thanked both of them for their work on my Avatar, just as Jakey also came out of the trance he had engulfed him when he started watching my Avatar. “What do you think, brother?” I asked him smiling, he reciprocated and replied “Definitely beautiful, as you are in reality. I like that they kept this detail quite a bit!” he laughed to see me blush redder than a tomato as Norm and Max joined him in laughing at me.

After a few more minutes of laughter Max, Norm and I take Jakey to practice video logs, even though I've never been out and tomorrow's is the first practice mission of my life, I got to do some practice with video logs, is a training topic, to be as ready as possible because it would be better to be prepared once in the field, because then there will be no time to learn. After that we took him to meet Grace, the legend. “Grace Augustine is a legend on Earth, she is the one who leads the Avatar program and she is also the one who wrote the book on the flora of Pandora.” after finishing his introduction Max looks around and smiles sarcastically "Well, because she prefers plants to people." he concludes and I reply immediately, as if they had flipped a switch. “If I found myself surrounded by idiots, I too would develop a disproportionate love for plants, huh, what are you saying?” Max smiles and raises his hands in surrender “Sorry, Y/N. I forgot that to you Grace is practically sacred and nobody can touch her." I roll my eyes as Max looks around again. “Oh, there she is! Let's reach out to her, let's take advantage of the fact that she has graced us with her presence. ” he smiles as we catch up with Grace. “Hey, Grace, I wanted to introduce you to Jake Sully, he's here replacing his brother Tommy, and Norm Spellman, he's just arrived and you haven't had a chance to meet him personally yet.” Grace, in the meantime, had smiled giving me a nod, continuing to smoke her cigarette quietly, as if what Max said about her didn't concern her in the slightest. “I've heard good things about you Norm, regarding Y/N she did the entire training under my personal guidance so I don't need to know anything.” I smile as I watch her flick some ash off her cigarette and put Norm's Na'vi to the test. "It's a bit formal, but it's not wrong. All right. As for you…” Her inquiring gaze wanders towards my brother and I am already starting to sweat. “Your sister told me about you, I have to make sure of what she said. How much lab experience do you have?” Jakey grins and I glare at him, "Watch what you say!" I hiss, warning him that if he says what I'm thinking he's going to get a slap on the back of the head. “I dissected a frog once.” and the slap on the back of the neck starts and it was definitely a must. "Ouch! You knew I was going to say that, sis!" he moans like a child. "Yes, unfortunately, and I also warned you, but you wanted to go your own way. Don't say you didn't deserve it." I finish before turning to Grace, "Sorry, I love him, but sometimes she's such a jerk." “Hey!” he replies offended. Grace raises her hand and smiles. "I know, you told me." she replies. "Anyway we have to do with what we have available, and that goes for the staff as well. Come back here at 8.00 tonight, try your Avatars for the first time and take a tour of the outer perimeter." “Grace, do you need help?” I ask her. "Yes, could you give me a hand to update some categories and some of my notes? I plan to get more information tomorrow evening... Ah, you were told that you will accompany me, right?" "Yes! And I can't wait!" I yell, hopping slightly and Grace smiles at me. "I figured, but now come on, the break is over." she resumes her serious gaze as she begins to walk into the labs, I turn to Jakey "I'll let you go, I see you have work to do." he smiles, glad to see me busy with people who like me and doing what I love. "Norm, can you please give him a short tour? He needs it." I ask and Norm nods, after which we say goodbye and I help Grace until 8.00 in the evening.

“How long have you been logged?” Grace's question is for Norm, as far as I'm concerned she already knows everything, even if you don't actually use your Avatar body, you still get plugged in to get your body used to the feel of the plugged in, sadly that's not something I it can be done out of the blue, unless you have a particularly strong physique and in fact I don't know how Jakey will react, all I know is that I studied on purpose to make sure everything goes well. I've already lost Tommy and I can't lose him too, I wouldn't forgive myself that. “More or less 520 hours.” he replies. “Perfect, not bad.” she congratulates then passes in front of my capsule, leans out and smiles at me, greeting me. I returns it and I relax, closing my eyes without thinking about anything. Suddenly a kaleidoscope of bright shapes and colors appears around me, soon replaced by a moment of total darkness that leaves room for a pure, blinding white light that seems to embrace me and welcome me home. I wake up once I hear the sound of monitors all around me. “Do you hear me, Y/N?” I open my eyes and I see the faces of the scientists pressed close to me, not too much to suffocate me but it cannot be said that they stay away. "Yes I hear you." I answer smiling and breathing deeply, despite being still in a laboratory you can already feel its purity that you will never find on Earth again. “How are you feeling? Some problems?" asks another scientist. “No, I'm fine. Thank you." I look around and see that, in the meantime, Jakey has also woken up, I smile at him as I watch him look around and observe his own body. “Y/N let's start testing your movements, can you touch my thumb with your fingers?” I perform both this and the other requests, my movements seem to be, for now, perfect, which is strange since it is the first time I take on the body of Avatar, so it shouldn't be so fluid, yet…They just come naturally to me, like i'm meant to hold this body, like i feel at home. “Jake, man, I need you to sit down! Do not get up!" And did it seem to you that my idiot brother didn't do what he does best, that is the moron, not even listening to the indications of the scientists by mistake? I turned to Jakey and saw Norm trying everything to get him down, failing miserably. "Don't worry, I can do it, I'm strong enough." she attempted to reassure the team following her link. Jakey gets up and leaves the room, I imitate him with the scientists who follow me. "Don't worry guys, I can do it, I recover my brother since I'm the only one able to do it." I reassure, despite the chances that Jakey will listen to me are slim, despite the good we love each other Jakey has to do his own thing and bump his nose against the consequences of his actions, otherwise he doesn't understand.This attitude drives practically anyone into a rage, I understand to be honest, it wears you out inside unless you have infinite patience. I follow it through a basketball court, had to dodge Avatars playing on it, and an obstacle course before I was able to retrieve him. “Jakey, I want a hug! Come here!" I call him, for once he listens to me and joins me, then giving me the most bone-breaking hug I could bear. "It was a stupid thing to do, you know." I scold him with concern welling up in my voice. "I could not help it." he defends himself. I hum as I rub my cheek against his. “Sorry, you might have felt bad since you have no training or experience and if something happened to you I…I couldn't…” “Shh…Hey, I'm here, it's ok.” he reassures me. “I love you, big brother” I smile. "Me too little sister." he responds by turning around and kissing my temple softly. "I'm sorry for making you worry." he apologizes as I rest my cheek on his shoulder. "It does not matter. I'm happy to see you standing and walking, how do you feel?” I ask him and he smiles. "It's great, fantastic! I mean, now I can move on my own without always having to carry the chair with me, I can go wherever I want without restrictions and you don't have to push or wait anymore. It's a blessing for me!" I laugh at his enthusiasm as I kiss his cheek.

Jakey is about to ask me something when Grace's voice interrupts us. “Hey! Marines! Y/N!” we turn to see the Avatar version of Grace join us. “Grace? It's you?" my brother asks as Grace stops near us. "Sure, who were you expecting, idiots?" she replies, I smile looking at her. “Grace, you are beautiful. Your Avatar is perfect!” I compliment, she looks at me and smiles at me. “Thanks, yours turned out well too.” It's her best, I already know that. Having said that I see her take two fruits. “Quick thinking!” she smiles throwing the first fruit towards Jakey who catches it on the fly, he is about to pass it to me when Grace throws another one towards me which I catch on the fly with very fluid movements, which amazed both of us. “Perfect, your motor system is good. Y/N, yours is particularly good, congratulations.” she congratulates and I nod smiling. "Already! It almost seems like you've always had this body. As if you were born Na'vi." Jakey compliments as I lower my gaze slightly, taking on a darker shade on my face, the equivalent of human blush. “Thanks to both of you, I don't know what it's from, they just come naturally to me.” I justify myself. “Very interesting…” Grace notes as I blush further and, since both Jakey and I are hungry, we eat the fruit Grace threw at us.

We spent all afternoon and late into the evening doing test after test, making sure all was well with both of our Avatar bodies. Although Jakey's initial stiffness coped great and soon felt more natural, but never as much as I did, the training has only increased my motor agility and my feeling at ease, which impressed Grace and my brother. However now it is night and we have to rest, because we are all tired, it has been a busy day. My brother and I are both sitting on a bed where our Avatars will be safe until we get them back to go on a mission tomorrow night. Jakey obviously plays dumb and plays with his queue, I've already told him twice not to. "Stop playing with it, you'll go blind if you go on like this." Grace scolds him and finally Jakey takes his eyes off the queue, much to my relief. "It's so weird..." I took his hand in mine. "I know, but you'll get used to it, we'll both do it together." I smiled "Because the Sully’s stick together." I concluded smiling and he did the same thing. “Come on, lie down and be quiet! Lights off! Relax your body and clear your mind, Jenny! Hurry up, come on!” Grace yells out various instructions as Jakey and I do what she tells us to do. We are in the same bed, actually at my request, I wanted to stay with my brother and he doesn't mind, I always slipped into their bed when I was afraid for some reason, so sleeping next to each other is nothing new for the two of us. “Good night Jakey, thanks for being here and thanks for letting me sleep next to you this time.” he hugs me and kisses my forehead, before falling asleep I hear his voice whispering “I love you too, little sister. I'm glad you're okay, don't be afraid, big brother is here and he will never leave you. Good night and sweet dreams."

Ok, so this is the second chapter, maybe even longer than the first😅...I'm still trying to work on my ability to summarize but it's not going so well😅...Anyway, thanks to everyone who enjoyed the first chapter, I didn't even think that anyone would read it, let alone appreciate it🤩😅.

©️ Floralifetime April 13-2023, please don't do not republish, repost, steal, modify, translate or claim my work as your own. All rights reserved.

@avatarbyamara​ This is the second chapter, if you want to stop being tagged let me know, I hope you like it.

[twistthesinews-writes]

The Needle and the Damage Done

Summary: Devil's Minion era. Daniel drinks Armand's blood for the first time. There's no going back now. [1063 words]

Disclaimer: Listen. Don't come at me. I haven't even read Queen of the Damned. I hadn't been planning on writing any fic for these two in the first place. Then I remembered Henning May's cover of The Needle and the Damage Done and something possessed me right in the middle of an online class and uh. This happened. (Whether or not you read this, definitely listen to that cover. Because like. Damn.)

I may have taken significant creative liberties with how it feels to drink vampire blood.

Still in pretty rough shape, I might try to neaten it up, continue it, and post it on AO3 eventually. For now, though, it's gonna live here. Enjoy some fucked up power dynamics and a junkie not-quite-realizing that he's bitten off more than he can chew.

The first time he drank of the blood, he knew he had crossed a line.

Up until then, it had been just another thing to try, just another probably-dumb idea. Dumber than his usual, maybe, sure, but at the end of the day just another step down his not-so-slow but mundanely steady path of self-destruction.

The instant the first drop slides down his throat, he feels the ground disappear beneath him and knows he’s reached that path’s end. What he thought was just another step turned out to be a plummet off the edge of the cliff he always knew, but never truly believed was there.

And then it’s too late.

He grabs Armand’s wrist, drags it to his mouth with more desperation and naked need than he’s ever felt drinking from a bottle, be it liquor or milk. He barely catches the flicker of cold amusement from the creature he does not yet realize he has just become wholly reliant on. For this, he cannot find another dealer. He can’t drop to his knees in the right club bathroom for another hit. Now, to a deeper degree than he even knew was possible, he is an owned thing.

For the moment, though, he isn’t thinking about this. He isn’t thinking about anything at all, everything beyond the instinct to drink, drink, drink stripped from him. He is too far gone to be ashamed of the mewling whimper he lets out when the source of the blood is ripped away from him. He turns his eyes up, wet, pleading, to those of his new master and finds a glinting smile.

“That’s enough for now, boy,” he says. Daniel blinks, slowly, an electric feeling starting to spark its way through his body. Neuron by neuron, his brain begins to come back to life.

“For now,” he repeats hoarsely. “We can do this again?” It’s a moot question. If the answer is no, Daniel will die. That doesn’t feel like melodrama, it feels like simple fact.

“If you’re good,” Armand says, buttoning the cuff of his shirtsleeve.

“Anything,” Daniel breathes. “Armand— I— anything.” Daniel tries to crawl toward Armand on the bed, but abruptly, his tingling arms give out from under him and he falls, landing face-first on the sheets in front of where Armand sits cross-legged. Before he can roll over so he can breathe, Armand’s hand lands in his hair, pressing his face harder into the mattress. Daniel doesn’t resist. Right now, breathing seems superfluous to Armand’s hand on him, Armand’s blood in him.

You’ll never leave me now, will you? he hears in his head. Stars swirling behind his eyes, he shakes his head as best he can. He tries to open his mouth to reply, but the pressure against his face is too great and he can’t draw breath to speak anyway. Instead he thinks, as hard as he can,

No. No. Never. I’ll never leave you, never, never, never— Things are getting hazy, now—maybe vampire blood doesn’t actually absolve a human of his need for oxygen—but even as he begins to lose feeling in his extremities, still all his thoughts are occupied by that one-worded mantra, repeated like a prayer. The stars flashing behind his closed eyelids are blinking out one by one when abruptly the hand against his head yanks him up by the hair. He heaves in a gasp of air, the room suddenly very bright, every desperate inhale carrying sharper, more intense scents than he’s ever experienced before.

“All right,” murmurs Armand, effortlessly flipping Daniel onto his back, stroking his hair as he pants. “All right. How do you feel?”

Daniel blinks up at Armand’s upside-down face. “I… I can hear a woman on the street hushing her baby. She’s speaking… Serbian, I think? Something Slavic. And the Nuts4Nuts guy—he’s just put a fresh batch of peanuts on to roast. I can smell them. Armand,” Daniel says urgently. “Armand, the window’s closed. The window’s closed and we’re on the seventh floor.”

Armand smiles indulgently down at him. “And so we are.”

Daniel closes his eyes and takes another breath. “Is this what it’s like for you all the time?”

All of a sudden, the electricity sparking through his veins meets oxygen and is set ablaze. He leaps off the bed, energy pulsing through him. “Is this how you feel all the time?,” he repeats excitedly. “God, no wonder food tastes like nothing to you—what could compare to this?” Daniel bounces on his feet a few times, then reaches out to yank on Armand’s wrist. “Come on, let’s go!”

Armand arches an eyebrow at him. Pulling on him is like pulling stone. “Go?”

“Yes, come on, let’s go out! Let’s go chase down some dumb guy or get in a bar fight or steal a painting or—or—or anything, let’s just go!” Daniel’s bouncing from foot to foot now, all but running in place. The energy thrumming through him is easily equal to any coke high he’s experienced, and usually he wouldn’t hesitate to strike out on his own at this point, burn that energy off however he saw fit. But somehow the only thing worse than staying still right now is the thought of being away from Armand. Armand, who looks from where Daniel is pulling ineffectively at his wrist to Daniel’s slightly manic grin with a deeply unimpressed expression.

“You’re forgetting your manners, I think,” he says softly. “Is this how you show me your gratitude?”

Daniel drops his hand as if burned. “No, I—I’m sorry—I—I only meant—”

Armand tsk’s softly. Daniel feels it like a knife in his chest.

“I know just what you meant, child. You think I can’t find sufficient outlet for the ancient energy in your veins here, in this apartment? In this very room?”

Golden eyes bore into him, and Daniel finds his sense of fear has been intensified along with everything else. He stops bouncing, trains his eyes on the ground, not daring to meet the deceptively soft gaze of the predator that owns him.

“Of—of course. I mean, what… what would you like to do?”

Silence. Daniel risks glancing up. The danger has dissolved from Armand’s face, replaced by a fond smile.

“Oh my darling boy.” A hand caresses Daniel’s cheek. “Why don’t we go out?”

*******************************************

Fun fact: I wrote the first draft of this by hand in my best cursive during online class. No clue why. I'd meant to take my lecture notes on that paper. In possibly-related news, I suspect I haven't gotten my Adderall dosage quite right yet.

If you've gotten this far, thank you for reading and I hope you enjoyed <3

[tsukimefuku]

— THINGS YOU SHOULD KNOW

1. I’m here to have fun and make friends.

2. My kindness is not an invitation to treat me poorly.

3. I’m from the global south, bisexual, anarchist, polyamorous, autistic, person of color, married to a trans woman and vocally pro-palestine.

INSTABLOCK: Racism, Ableism, LGBTQIAphobia, Zionism, Naz*sm, Alt-Right Takes, insults towards me.

Also, I will not tolerate catty behavior, shit-stirring drama, and stalking/harassment/mistreatment of my friends or myself.

It doesn’t matter who you are. If you’re nice to me, I’ll be nice to you. If you’re shit to me, I will block you.

— LIST OF RULES

- Minors, do not interact. Come back when you’re 18.

- TERFs are unwelcome. Leave immediately.

- requests are open unless stated otherwise. However, I will pick which requests I’ll write.

- if I’ve missed something you asked/commented etc., feel free to send me an inbox.

- Do not spam my inbox harassing me for any reason. You will be ignored or blocked, depending on how severe it was. I have a life away from the internet.

- If you feel offended or bothered by something I’ve said/posted, you can come and talk to me privately for us to sort it out or keep it to yourself. Shady posting = blocking.

- The fact we’re mutuals is not a silent agreement to reblog each other. I will not demand anyone to reblog anything from me, and I expect people to not demand it from me either.

- Hate inboxes will not be answered. The answer will always be “seek some therapy instead of hating on an online porn writer”. The only exception to this rule will be if I think my answer might help other people that have received the same type of thing.

- Writing is a hobby for me, and I will talk about my opinions and takes on writing here from time to time. These are simply my opinions so don’t take what I say to heart.

- If you break moots with me, I will most likely unfollow you too when I notice it. I just feel weird about following someone who has unfollowed me.

- don’t copy anything I write. As this is all fanfiction, it obviously isn’t copyright protected, but be mindful. If you wish to use the very same approach or concept to something I’ve written, just send me an inbox and we’ll chat. I don’t bite.

- don’t ask me to “rewrite” something someone else has written, especially if you’re mentioning their work in your ask. That’s just rude and you’ll either get ignored or lectured.

- my credentials for any discussion (apart from criminal law) are “I’m three mental illnesses in a trench coat and horny for fictional dick/pussy”. This is tumblr, not a ***** measuring contest. 

In the end, we’re all on the same horny boat to simp on fictional characters together.

Be kind, have some sense, and have fun. Following this, we probably won’t have any problems (: 

[izvmimi]

cw: dead dove do not eat. horror. love as consumption (bad). cannibalism. true form sukuna. reader with female pronouns.

Uraume doesn’t like you, hasn’t from the very second they met you, and never will. 

Uraume doesn’t like a lot of people, especially not any of the wives, and you’ve once wondered if the way that wives get disposed of when they’ve outlived their duty has anything to do with their own specific…recommendations, but it’s all moot point. All that matters is that Uraume hates you particularly, possibly because you are the favorite, but not favored concubine, and it has nothing to do with envy or malice, it’s something far deeper than that.

Uraume is actually smiling, a severe upturn of both corners of their thin lips that crinkles their eyes and looks painfully unnatural, as though imitated from a painting with minimal practice, when the heavy, padded doors that carry out your confinement finally unseal. 

Light floods the dark room and blinds your eyes practically. You’re not sure what time it is; it’s been hours since you’ve been locked within these four walls, and you don’t remember the last time water or food has graced your lips. It must be over a day you think, typical of the punishments he doles out to you because despite the fact that he acts severe, in some small way he does truly dote on you. After all, it’s been a year and you’ve yet to be digested or maimed, all of your limbs present down to the fingers and toes, skin unmarred, both eyes still able to look at Uraume in the face and piss them off, lips and tongue still pleasing to the demon’s scarlet eyes and hard at work in the depths of night.

Uraume lowers their eyes as they approach you, then bows. It’s ridiculous that Sukuna makes them do this, a mockery even, because you’re both slaves to that demon’s wit and power and you know intuitively that even if Uraume is poised as subservient to you, they are of far more use and necessity than you are. Warm bodies are a dime a dozen, even if you’ve managed to convince the owner of the harem that your pussy is particularly pleasing. Either way, right now, he’s mad at you, and while you have not died, your starving stomach turns at the same time as it growls, disorganized like a thrashing tantruming child, and your brain wants to entice you to vomit, even if your mouth is watering.

Uraume thinks it’s particularly hilarious to see you like this, frenzied as the wafting smell of the food they’ve brought you hits your nostrils and they flare like a beast. 

Perhaps it hasn’t been just a day. Perhaps longer. Your breathing is deep and straggled as you hold your arms around your growling stomach, and try to collect yourself into a kneeling position, lacking the strength to stand. 

“Princess,” Uraume says mockingly. Sukuna does not require them to call you this, wouldn’t dare call you this in front of him, but they are doing it now grinning as they present the tray to you. 

The food smells contradictorily heavenly, and you hate that such an evil human being (if you can call them that) is such a good cook. The savory aroma can practically put you in a frenzy, almost as powerful as the desire that swells up inside you when you’re filled with Sukuna’s ample presence, but you know better.

This isn’t the first time. You know better.

“Eat.”

Uraume’s tray practically drops in front of you, and you reflexively clamor towards it. An ornate assortment, dressed in red. Red wine, red meat, red, red, red. Red strawberries fed to you by candlelight as your body was stretched to the limit, palms pressed against Sukuna’s chest, pushed into your mouth, skewered by the point of a clawed finger. Sweet juices running down your chin, your slick running down the shaft of Sukuna’s cocks, saliva pooling in your drooling mouth. 

You can’t eat this, but you are so, so hungry.

“Who is it?” you venture to ask, but your voice only comes out as a hoarse rasp.

Uraume snorts.

“Does it matter? You’ll still feed like a dog.”

As they berate you, you’re already hand in plate, forgoing any utensils, eating rabidly. The meat has a sweet aftertaste to it, again like the strawberries you covet from him. You gorge yourself, Uraume watching with a sneer, in part disgusted, in part entertained.

Uraume doesn’t have to remind you that the cup you use to force down the bolus of food you’ve just taken in is blood diluted thinly. The irony aftertaste is barely perceptible when you’re this ravenous. Tears run through the corner of your eyes as you continue to eat. Uraume’s food is an orgasmic experience, you’re always moved, no matter what they prepare. You’d eat by the mouthfuls, drink by the gallons if you were allowed to.

Funny how you’re only allowed this experience when you misbehave.

Uraume stands in wait as you continue to bite and chew and swallow and sigh, then shakes their head. 

“Do you still want to know?” they ask finally, once the plate has been licked clean. Your face is tearstained but your belly is full, and in a couple more hours you can leave to service your master once again. As a treat.

Perhaps he’ll feed you something sweet again. Perhaps not strawberries this time, perhaps something that’s no longer red, something with a myriad of colors along with a complexity of taste. You’ve only been shrouded in darkness for the past few days after all, you’d love some light.

Now that the food is gone, you don’t want to think anymore.

“No,” you whisper, trying to contain the moroseness in your voice.

Uraume snorts.

“Remember that child you smiled at?” they start, anyway. You reflexively cover your ears and Uraume won’t force your hands down, they know you’ll hear them anyway. “In the courtyard, on your daily trip. You’re supposed to keep your eyes straight ahead, remember princess? You wanted this opportunity, didn’t you?”

You curl into a ball but Uraume would like it if you crumbled. The food was delicious, you do not have to know where it came from. He would have eaten that child anyway. It doesn’t matter if it was you. You are but part of the whole. A small part. The whole is Sukuna. The evil is him.

The smile is back on Uraume’s face - perhaps they will get that practice after all.

“I’ll be back shortly to clean you up for tonight’s service. I’ll leave the gate open. Enjoy the fresh air.”

The fact that all the food doesn’t come back up as fast as it went down is proof enough that you are no longer being reprimanded, you are being trained.

[cybrsan]

Hey cutieeee congrats on ur 100! I hope we can become moots!!

I was wondering if you can do a yunho request :33333

I was thinking of request 125 & 148 fluff

There’s lowkey so many from ur prop I wanna request for but I don’t wanna overwhelm you so I will wait ><

Aw, thank you so much, you're so sweet <3 I am more than happy to write something for Yunho! I've been meaning to for a while, I have been so in his lane recently, omg.

Prompts:  125. “Here, let me help you.” + 148. “I really want to kiss you right now.” “Then do it.” Pairing: Best Friend!Yunho x F!Reader Genre: Fluff Word Count: <1k Tags/warnings: Friends to lovers, mutual pining

Requests are currently closed, but my masterlist can be found here.

“Yunho, I don’t know why you are insisting that we do this. You know I’m awful at games.”

Yunho doesn’t take no for an answer and practically forces the VR headset into your hands. You’re surprised by the weight of it; it’s much lighter than you expected. Somewhat intrigued, your fingers trace the smooth edges, following the curves of the device.

“See, isn’t it cool? It’ll be fun,” he promises, practically bouncing up and down with excitement. “Plus, this is different from a normal video game so maybe you’ll be better at it.” When you make no move to put it on, he adds a sickeningly sweet “Please?” with puppy eyes that make it impossible to resist. 

“Alright, fine. You’re lucky I like you.”

He beams at you, and you practically melt into a puddle. It’s so hard being friends with someone you can never say no to. How are you supposed to when he looks that happy when you agree? He could outshine the sun with the brightness of his smile. You put the headset on; it’s a bit too loose, and you struggle with the straps as you try to adjust it. Yunho chuckles, watching you endearingly for a moment before moving towards you.

“Here, let me help you,” he says, his slender fingers making quick work of the straps. Once he tightens them, he gently shakes the headset to make sure it stays put. “Feel okay?” 

You nod, and after a few bouts of dizziness later, you have managed to adjust to the virtual world and are doing a pretty good job of killing zombies and watching Yunho’s back. You’re in the middle of a particularly chaotic fight, with enemies coming at you from all sides, when you feel a very real pain on the back of your head. You yelp, stumbling over your feet and falling to the ground.

Yunho immediately pauses the game and comes to your aid, kneeling beside you and helping you get your headset off. He inspects the back of your head for any noticeable wound, apologizing non-stop all the while.

“Oh my god, I am so sorry, I wasn’t paying attention to what I was doing, I didn’t mean—”

You cut him off with a laugh. “Yunho, I’m fine. It hurts a little, but it’s nothing major.” 

He looks at you, a twinkle of embarrassment in his eyes. “I promise I’ll stop forcing you to play games with me now.”

“You don’t force me to do anything—I may pretend I don’t want to, but I always will because it’s something you enjoy, and you mean a lot to me.” He seems to blink away tears at your words, and you gape at him. “Jeong Yunho! Tell me you’re not about to cry right now.”

“No, no, I’m not,” he insists, laughing. A beat passes, something changing in the air between you, and you suddenly feel a lot more conscious of his touch. His hands are still lingering, one mindlessly playing with your hair while the other holds one of your own, his thumb rubbing soothingly over the back of your knuckles.   

You look at him, really look at him, suddenly overwhelmed with the urge to take in his every detail. While he has always been attractive, it is in these past few years that he has truly flourished. He has managed to find his confidence and now carries himself in such a way that demands the attention of those around him.

His soft, chestnut-brown hair has gotten long, a few loose strands falling across his forehead. His eyes are warm and inviting, and he always looks at you as if he hangs on every word that you say. His lips… as much as you try to avert your gaze, not wanting to give into the thought of what they might feel like on yours out of fear of what that might do to your friendship, you find yourself unable. 

“I really want to kiss you right now.” 

The words are out of your mouth before you can give them a second thought. Yunho’s eyes widen, and he freezes, obviously not having expected things to take this turn. You go to backtrack, to pretend like it was just a joke, when suddenly he’s intertwining his fingers with your own and pulling you closer.

“Then do it,” he murmurs.

And so you do. The second your lips touch, it’s like something within you sparks to life, igniting a fire that has long been smoldering beneath the surface. Time seems to stand still as the world around you fades into oblivion, and all you can focus on is him. His hand tangles in your hair, pulling you impossibly closer as if now that he has you, he never plans on letting go. It’s obvious now that this is both something you have been yearning for, something that you have been holding back from. Together, you tumble over the point of no return, willing to deal with whatever the consequences may be. 

When you part, breathless and wide-eyed, neither of you seems to know what to say. The air crackles with anticipation and uncertainty. But Yunho, never one for awkward silences, takes it upon himself to be the first to speak.

“Should I be concerned that this stemmed from me hitting you?”

You immediately laugh, flinging yourself at him as the tension in the room dissolves. “Hey, don’t make me sound like a weirdo!” 

He laughs too, pulling you close and pressing a kiss on the top of your head. “Sorry, sorry, I couldn’t help it. Now,” he stands, holding out his hand and helping you up, “Why don’t we go get something to eat? Seems like we have quite a bit to talk about. It’ll be my treat to make up for hurting you.”

“Sounds good to me. Don’t complain when I order one of everything!”

He just shakes his head, smiling at you fondly as he follows you out of the door.

[blackbutler-readerinsertsandjunk]

A scenario where the one(s) Ciel is after revenge for is already dead and gone. Sebastian's reaction to being stuck with Ciel till he dies and even then he doesn't get his meal and how Ciel and his soulmate feel. (I'm thinking they just met shortly before Ciel finds out those he was after are dead).

ohohohoho

At the end of his quest for revenge, which spanned years, CIEL was hoping there would be some kind of satisfaction at the end of it.

Instead, he’s left with nothing but a hollow sort of relief as he looks down at the bodies of the people responsible for ruining his entire life.

Is he glad to have them gone? Of course. To know that the proof is right there, that they can never hurt him or anyone he cares about or anyone at all ever again is a weight off his shoulders.

He’s just angry that he wasn’t the one to take them out of this world. It’s frustrating in a way he doesn’t fully know how to describe.

He’s sure the ride home in the carriage is going to be a long one, full of too many thoughts and not enough words to express them all. When he settles in beside (Name), his beloved, the other half of his soul (which will get to exist and persist now), he already knows he’s going to be too tired to sleep.

SEBASTIAN gets as comfortable as he thinks a demon can possibly get across from the two of them. It’s a moment before anyone speaks; presumably none of them really want to address anything that’s hanging in the air. It has to be done, though.

“I should have known a little brat like you would find some way to not keep your end of the bargain, my lord.” Sebastian’s eyes flicker briefly toward (Name), then his gaze returns to Ciel. “Shall I assume you’ve told them of our deal?”

“And everything it entails. Which is now a moot point.” Ciel removes his hat and sets it on the other side of him, his free hand being held by (Name)’s. “Am I correct about that part?”

(Name) squeezes Ciel’s hand before looking over at their soulmate’s butler. “… Is that true, Sebastian? Does that mean―”

Sebastian lets out a small huff; Ciel hasn’t heard this tone since the very first days of this demon serving him. It’s been a while since he let the mask slip. “Yes, it does. Congratulations, you’ve solved the mystery. I no longer get to eat your lover’s soul. What do you want me to do, bake you a pie?”

“Shut your mouth, Sebastian. Talk to them like that again and you’ll be relegated to playing hall boy for a month.” Despite everything, Ciel hasn’t lost a bit of his spine to be ordering Sebastian around. In fact, he feels might he might have more authority than ever before. “I don’t care that you’ve known (Name) for less than six months. I don’t care that you’re upset over this. I don’t care. You will not speak to them with anything less than respect, and that’s an order. It certainly won’t be the last one I ever give you.”

Sebastian raises an eyebrow. Clearly, he isn’t happy about the situation. Ciel doesn’t think he’d be happy in Sebastian’s position either, but, well, that’s the chance he took with a deal like this, isn’t it? “Oh, yes. Put your ego on full display to soothe your wounded pride, as usual.”

“My pride isn’t wounded, thank you very much. You’re lucky I don’t order you to carve out your own tongue.” The city goes by outside the windows, shrouded in darkness. Ciel spares the buildings a passing glance and, for the first time in a while, thinks about how he might pass his whole life here now.

“… You know,” (Name) murmurs, “I know it isn’t what you wanted, Sebastian, but I’m glad things turned out this way. Now I get to have a future with Ciel, and you won’t just vanish from our lives. Even if you didn’t like it, you’ve taken care of him for all this time. I’m grateful that you’ll be around.”

Ciel snorts, and it’s the first time since the revelation that he’s felt a little lighter. “Even if he acts like a complete bell-end?”

Sebastian’s eyes glow fuchsia as if he’s barely restraining himself from showing off a taste of his full power. “I follow every single order you give me, only to be cheated out of my meal, and I’m the bell-end? I’d like to see someone else do everything I’ve done since I came into your life, in exchange for the promise of a dinner that never comes.”

“And you’ll be continuing to do it until I die,” Ciel snaps.

Sebastian snarls back at him. “Don’t give me any ideas.”

“Ideas we both know you can’t act on, thereby doing nothing but tormenting you? In fact, I think I will.” He smirks. “Just wait until (Name) and I start a family. I can’t even begin to tell you how many nappies I’m going to make you change.”

(Name) beside him bites down on a laugh. “Ciel.”

The rest of Ciel’s life is laid out before him, and he’s so confused as to what he’s going to do with it when he couldn’t conceive of having a future less than an hour ago.

He may not have vengeance, but he has his life back. And he has (Name).

He thinks he’d rather have those things.

[deulleya]

"lie and truth."

the fifth instalment of my musical translation series — entering an elite academy amidst shrewd lies and shocking truths. will friendship endure, or will betrayal tear them apart?

the video is not mine, but all translations are my own.

musical: eli (일라이)

cast: [lyon] yu taeyul, ki sejung, noh yun • [eli] bae nara, hong seungan, park jwaheon • [sophie] lee seoyoung, lee jiyeon • [alice] im yejin, seong minjae • [yulia] baek yeeun, sun yuha • [justin] shin hyucksu (shin subin), hong kibeom • [headmaster] jeong jaeheon, byun heesang

synopsis: in the prestigious brixton academy for the rich and elite, the scholarship student lyon and his best friend eli are lauded as role models for the student body. that is, until the transfer student sophie upends the status quo alongside whispers and rumours. amidst the burgeoning distrust, the students defend themselves with lies upon lies that shake the very foundation they've built themselves upon. everyone has secrets, yet everyone seeks the truth — but is the truth they yearn for truly the real truth? and is there even a real truth at all?

production: new production (twitter / youtube)

[ this musical will be streaming online here, here, and here (different cast each day). hyuckstin and nyun lyon!! ]

- ☽ -

- ☽ -

하나만큼은 – at least one

+ 바람 rep. – wind (reprise)

noh yun as lyon, park jwaheon as eli

[Lyon] What are you doing?

[Eli] I have faith in you. Whatever comes your way, you’ll pull through. That’s who you are. The real problem is me. Nothing interests me nowadays. As expected, the righteous path of law ought to be treaded upon by someone like you. A righteous person, like you. Not someone like me.

[Lyon] What do you mean by that?

[Eli] Hey, should I just flunk an exam? Or perhaps I'll withdraw from the moot court? That way you’ll definitely get in, regardless of what Sophie does.

[Lyon] What do you think you’re saying?! We promised to enter the same university together. Look, if it wasn’t for you, I wouldn’t even be here. You were the one who led me into this world. That’s why we have to keep going together, till the end!

[Eli] Lyon… I’m sorry. Calm down, okay?

[Lyon] …I’m sorry.

[Lyon] From a certain point Not a single thing has been going my way Not my grades, nor my evaluations, not even my emotions

The words that surface endlessly in my mind Perhaps the image you have of me May not be the real thing

Scared, fearful, unfamiliar, anxious These feelings, this side of me This isn’t who I am

I don’t want anything to change I’m going to live as I planned

[Lyon] When I’m with you, I can stay true to myself. The me whom you believe in. That side of me.

[Lyon] The future that I dream of I can’t let it crumble Can’t just this one thing Turn out the way I wish for? Without anything changing Even if it’s just the two of us

- ☽ -

[Lyon] Hey, that’s dangerous. Come back down—

[Eli] Lyon! You remember, right? You told me so — as long as I hold fast to my balance, I won’t be swayed!

[Lyon] I did..?

[Eli] Do you still remember? The day we first came to this place A school we’d never aimed for A dream we’d never harboured As if wearing ill-fitting clothes We were nothing but stifled

[Eli] C’mere. Ah, c’mon!

[Lyon] Coming.

[Eli] Ah, it’s refreshing!

[Lyon] Ah, it’s refreshing.

[Eli] Lyon.

[Eli] Do you remember that day? You told me, who felt trapped Not knowing where to head towards Or what to pursue, To feel the wind

[Lyon/Eli] Feel the wind If we feel it with our hearts Even without flying, we can soar As long as we don’t lose our balance We can be free, anywhere

[Eli] Hey, grab my hand! Grab it, grab it! Lyon. Shall I tell you a secret?

[Lyon] I have one too. A secret.

[ alternate pairings here (yu taeyul, bae nara) and here (ki sejung, hong seungan). ]