#token: shine in the sky | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

mononijikayu · 5 months ago

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from the start — fushiguro megumi.

“You’re now my friend, Fushiguro–kun!” You smile at him, turning to your snack pile and handing him one. It was a panda bread, one of those he sees at the convenience stores. “Here, as a token of our friendship!” He blinked. “...It’s okay. You can keep it. I’m not hungry—” You pouted, pushing it toward his arm. “But Fushiguro-kun, these are good! If you take them, you end up making a wish that our friendship is sweet too!” “Huh? There’s no such thing as that.”

Genre: Alternate Universe — Canon Convergence;

Warning/s: Alternate Universe, Romance, Fluff, Comfort/No Hurt, Strangers to Friends, Friends to Lovers, Sorcerer! Reader, Mild-Tsundere! Megumi, Feelings, Romantic Confession, Getting Together, First Kiss, Making Out, Light-Hearted, Humor, Protectiveness, Happy Ending;

Words: 5k words.

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kayu's playlist - side 800;

note: i rewrote this multiple times because i wasn't satisfied. i was going to upload this hours ago, but i ended up reading it and i was like 'shit this doesn't look as good as i would have liked' and now i finished it and i love it now. i hope you love it too!!! i love you all <3

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MEGUMI REMEMBERS THE DAY HE MET YOU. The sun was shining brightly that day. He could remember how the golden rays cast a warm, inviting glow over the middle school courtyard. Students milled about, enjoying their lunch break under the clear, blue sky. The air was filled with the sounds of laughter and chatter, a vibrant tapestry of youthful exuberance.

Fushiguro Megumi doesn’t really remember when he ever partook in anything that big. Even in kindergarten, he really didn’t find himself in a big group of people, messing about. It’s something that Gojo Satoru had consistently teased him about for years. It’s not that he didn’t want to. He just didn’t know how. And if anything, it frustrates him. Because he does want to. He wants to reach out to someone and talk to them. Even just one. But he knows his reputation wouldn’t make it easy.

He was known in school to be someone who got into trouble. And it makes it even more hard, knowing that Gojo manages to make every bit of trouble and complaint go away. a flick of a finger. Even back then, whatever the trouble — Gojo Satoru would insist.

Of course, he lectures him here and there, as any pseudo–parent would. Yet he still saves him, no matter the trouble. But it’s not like Megumi wanted trouble. Somehow, it always just finds him. Because if he was being truly honest with himself, Fushiguro Megumi doesn’t like injustice. And he hates it even more when it’s done to people minding their own business.

That’s how Megumi met you. On the third day of the school year, it was a chilly afternoon. You sat on a bench, unbothered, watching the chaos unfold with a peaceful expression as you prepared to eat lunch. The sound of laughter and chatter filled the air, people making friends and people talking about in their freetime.

He saw you from one of the windows by the second floor. He already ate his lunch with his sister a while ago, but he wasn’t particularly hungry and her friends had come over to their spot. So, he just left to go look at the school through a window and enjoy the weather.

And then he stops at you. You were so quiet, but he could feel it. How your energy just bursts from within you. You smiled happily as your focus was fully on the carefully packed lunch box resting on your lap, filled with your favorite snacks. You seemed content with some silence, it didn’t bother you. You were just excited to eat well.

The serenity was abruptly interrupted when a sleazy boy, with a smirk that revealed a missing tooth, snatched the lunch box from your hands. Megumi always hated the kid the moment he met him too. He was a senior, but he acted like he owned the place. You would think that he would learn his lesson being knocked out by him. But he didn’t. And that annoys Megumi. Because he could continue to do horrible things. Like now. That sleazy boy’s eyes gleamed mischievously as he darted away, leaving you momentarily stunned.

You quickly stood up and shouted, your voice slightly trembling, "Hey! Give that back!"

Megumi didn’t know how fast reacted. Jumping from out the window and into the scene, it would have taken someone much longer. But he took no time at all. That sleazy boy can feel it. Fushiguro Megumi, famed for his deeply sharp gaze. He approached the boy with the stolen lunch box and effortlessly blocked his path.

"Hand it over, scum." he said, his voice calm but commanding, leaving no room for negotiation. “Or do you want a repeat of what happened last time, huh?”

The elder boy hesitated, caught off guard by the sudden confrontation, and glanced between him and you before reluctantly dropping the lunch box at his feet and muttering under his breath as he slinked away.

He picked up the lunch box and walked over to you, offering it back to you. “Here you go. It didn’t drop, you know….the food.”

You took the lunch box, feeling a warmth spread across your cheeks. “Thank you. I didn’t really know what to do.”

He shrugged, his expression easy and relaxed. “No problem. I’m glad I could help.”

You nodded, a small smile forming on your lips as you introduced yourself. “I really wasn’t expecting that. Thanks for the save. Hey, hey! What’s your name?”

“I’m Fushiguro. Fushiguro Megumi.” he replied back. “I’m from Class 1–A.”

“Ehhhh, I didn’t see you in class!” You gasped. “We’re classmates!”

Megumi thinks he would have noticed if you were his classmate. But then again, he did get bored and slacked about the other day. It’s quite possible that he didn’t just notice you. He shrugged and nodded at you.

“I guess we are.”

He blinked. “...It’s okay. You can keep it. I’m not hungry—”

You pouted, pushing it toward his arm. “But Fushiguro-kun, these are good! If you take them, you end up making a wish that our friendship is sweet too!”

“Huh? There’s no such thing as that.”

“But that’s my wish.” He doesn’t know how your pout got deeper. But it suited you. “Please, just take it.”

He really doesn’t know what to say. He could feel his palm embalmed with sweat. If he doesn’t take it, you might pester him even more. And if that happens, he wouldn’t be able to leave because you’ll continue to ask him to take the panda bread. He could feel heat rising in him. He could feel it even in his ears.

“Alright, fine. Megumi relented, taking the panda bread from your hand. The soft packaging crinkled as he reluctantly accepted the snack, feeling the eyes of several classmates on him. It was strange, this sudden attention, but there was something about your insistence that he couldn’t quite ignore.

You beamed, satisfaction lighting up your face as if you’d achieved a small victory. “Yay! Now we’re officially friends!”

Megumi glanced at the panda bread, his expression softening despite himself. He supposed it wouldn’t hurt to indulge you just this once. It’s not like its going to be something that happens on a daily basis. Anything to get you off his back.

“Thanks….I guess.” he mumbled, unwrapping the bread and taking a small bite. The sweetness of the filling surprised him. It’s good, not too sweet. He thinks it's great and he finds himself nodding in approval.

“See?” you said, watching him intently. “Isn’t it good?”

“It’s... not bad.” Megumi admitted, trying to maintain a semblance of nonchalance. But he could feel the corners of his mouth twitching upward, a sign that perhaps your enthusiasm was contagious.

“Let’s make a deal then, Fushiguro–kun!” you proposed, eyes sparkling with mischief. “Every time we hang out, I’ll bring you a new snack to try, and you can tell me if it’s good or not. Deal?”

Megumi considered your offer, weighing the potential for more unsolicited treats against the undeniable warmth in your smile. It was hard to say no to that sort of smile. It reminds him of Tsumiki somehow. It’s….it’s pure.

“....Fine.” he agreed finally, unable to resist the sense of camaraderie forming between you.

And just like that, Fushiguro Megumi found himself drawn into your world, a place where small gestures held deeper meanings, and new friendships could be sealed with a simple piece of panda bread. And somehow, when he walked away from you as you waved him away, he was afraid to admit it then. But, he wanted more.

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IN A BLINK OF AN EYE, YOU WERE IN MEGUMI’S LIFE COMPLETELY. He really didn’t expect that to be the cas. But all these lunch hours turned into days together in the classroom and turned into weeks in the abandoned classroom, and as always, your new tradition took root. It was now his normal. You were now his normal. And he couldn’t say it was a bad thing.

Every day, without fail, you would meet up. It didn’t have to be at lunchtime anymore. For a while, he didn’t know why he’d make time, but his body had gotten so used to needing to find you, to meet up. He thought you’d bother him again, and you were good at finding him.

When you did, you’d present Megumi with a new snack, each more interesting than the last. Sometimes it was a sweet treat, sometimes savory, but always chosen with care and a mischievous glint in your eye as you awaited his reaction.

As time went on the awkwardness slowly dwindled. He felt like he was finally starting to get used to your presence in his life. You are his constant now, his routine, his day to day. Slowly but little, Megumi found himself looking forward to these small exchanges.

At first, he couldn’t understand why. It was just a simple gesture, after all. But there was something about the way you offered him each snack, the way your eyes lit up with anticipation, that made him feel...special. It was as if you saw something in him worth noticing, something he hadn’t seen in himself.

One afternoon, as the two of you sat under a large cherry blossom tree in the school courtyard, you handed him a small box wrapped in a colorful cloth. “Today’s snack is special, Megu–chan!” you said, your voice full of excitement. “I made it myself!”

He raised an eyebrow, intrigued. He doesn’t mind you calling him that. “Really? You cooked this?”

You nodded, a hint of nervousness creeping into your smile. “I hope you like it.”

Megumi carefully unwrapped the cloth, revealing a neatly packed bento box filled with an assortment of foods. It was….it was cute. It was a dog chara��bento.His shikigami dogs. You saw his shikigami before. Very well, and he could only surmise that you were just like him. But he hadn’t asked. And he wasn’t going to do that now.

His eyes widened in surprise. “You made all of this?”

“Yep! Go on, try it, Megu–chan!” you urged, watching him intently. “I made it all for you.”

He picked up a piece of tamagoyaki with his chopsticks, examining it before taking a bite. The sweet, fluffy texture melted in his mouth, and he couldn’t help but let out a small, appreciative hum. “This is really good, you know?” he admitted, looking at you with genuine admiration.

Your face lit up with a radiant smile. “I’m glad! I was a bit worried it wouldn’t turn out well. I really…I really tried to do well. I didn’t know your taste in bento that well yet, so I was nervous!”

Megumi shook his head, taking another bite. “You’re talented. This is better than most of the things I’ve tried from the other places. Don’t worry. You…you did great.”

The compliment seemed to fluster you, and you ducked your head, a faint blush coloring your cheeks. “Thanks, Megumi–chan! It means a lot coming from you.”

At that moment, Fushiguro Megumi thinks he felt a strange warmth spread through his chest. It was an unfamiliar sensation, one that left him slightly off-balance but not unpleasantly so. He realized he was beginning to look forward to these moments not just because of the snacks, but because of you. The easy way you talked, the kindness in your eyes, and the genuine interest you showed in him—it all made him feel like he was part of something special.

He thinks nothing of it.

He really thinks it's nothing.

He could feel his heart thump.

“Shit.” He whispers as he went home that day. “Is this….Is this something?”

He couldn’t sleep much that night, and laid in bed, thinking about you. As the days went by, Megumi found himself seeking out your company even outside of your snack-sharing ritual. You’d come over to his house now to study together, share stories about your day, and laugh over silly jokes that only the two of you found funny.

Gojo was good at teasing him about it, Tsumiki too but she gave you space. Still….he’d endure the teasing. He liked you—well, he liked having you around. He liked how comfortable he was with you. Even if he doesn’t speak most of the time. You were fine with that. Megumi thinks he was lucky. It was easy, being with you, and he couldn’t remember the last time he felt so at ease around someone.

But with that ease came something else, something deeper and more complex that Megumi wasn’t sure he knew how to handle. He caught himself thinking about you at odd times—during class, while training. Gojo had managed to corner him in training badly and had to ask him if he was okay.

Megumi thought he was being subtle but even when he was supposed to be focused on other things. He wondered if you thought about him, too, if you felt that same inexplicable pull he did. He wished you did. He wished that you thought about him as much as he did with you. Maybe then…maybe, he’d be able to sleep at night. And dream of you.

It was during one of your afternoons together after club activities. The birds were singing, the air was clear, the sky was as blue as it could be. You hummed a song as you ran your fingers through his hair. He was reading the book aloud. You said you liked his voice and….no was hard to say. To you, especially. So, he just did as you asked.

But now he was tired and he thought that laying on the grass was comfortable. But you furrowed your brows like you always do, so cutely —and pulled his head on your lap and pouted. You said you make comfort more than the grass did.

Megumi was lucky that his face wasn’t facing you. You would have noticed it. How red his face is. But you were too focused on the clouds. So, that he was glad about. As you both lay on the grass watching the clouds drift by, Fushiguro Megumi found himself on the verge of admitting something he wasn’t quite ready to face.

“Hey, Megumi?” you said suddenly, breaking the comfortable silence. “You hear me? Are you awake?”

“Yeah? Why wouldn’t I be?”

“I’m really glad we became friends, you know?” you confessed, turning your head to look at him. “You make school a lot more fun. Actually….You make everything fun. You’re my bestest friend. And you just….I’m so lucky to be with you.”

He met your gaze with his blue–green gaze, feeling a rush of warmth at your words. “I’m glad too….” he replied, his voice quieter than usual. “You’re...important to me.”

The sincerity in his voice seemed to surprise you, and for a moment, neither of you spoke. Megumi was often blunt with his words. And at times, it's hard for people to understand him. But there were times he preferred to keep things to himself.

He couldn’t vocalize it well yet. But at this moment, you think you were waiting for it for a while. And you finally have it. The world around you faded into the background, leaving just the two of you in this garden of eden.

As you smiled at him, Fushiguro Megumi felt a strange flutter in his chest, a sensation that was both exhilarating and terrifying. His chest was throbbing, over and over. He pursed his lips into a tight line, looking at you as you stared into the sky again.

He realized then that he didn’t just want to be your friend. Not anymore. He didn’t want that name anymore. He wanted to be something more, something….something beyond that. He wanted to say it, to make it real to you. To him. But nothing came out.

‘Not yet, Megumi.’ He thinks to himself. ‘Not the time.’

This was enough. For now, this is what he has. Friends. That’s better than nothing. He’d have to hear you talk about some other guy for now. He’d have to deal with your tears when this guy hurts you. He’d have to deal with being just your friend.

Your best friend. He can do it. He’s content. He can wait. This was more than he’d been able to ask for. He was content to be by your side, to bask in the warmth of your presence and enjoy the sweet moments you shared.

Because even if he couldn’t quite find the words to express how he felt, he knew that with you, he’d found something truly special. And that was enough. At least, for now. But one day. He knew that one day he’ll find his voice. His words will make their way to you. They will. Because he….he loved you. And love? It should always make way. It will always know how to lead him there to you.

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HE NEVER THOUGHT THAT YOU WOULD JOIN HIM HERE IN TOKYO. But you were a sorcerer and you were needing training too — so you joined him. He knew from the beginning that you might be recruited by some of the other sister schools.

You after all had potential and the other sister schools would love that in their ranks. In fact, he found out later that your parents were Fukuoka alumni. They were retired sorcerers, who retired for wanting to enjoy watching you grow up. They wanted for you to attend their sorcerer school too.

But you thought it would be better for you to join him in Tokyo. You knew that being together would make it easier. You were friends, meaning you wouldn’t have a harder situation. You’d have Megumi, as you always had.

And Gojo-sensei, as Megumi calls him now, was good at charming your parents. That had been a surprise to you, but it seems the Gojo charm was something that could not be stopped. And that settled everything. You were going to go to Tokyo with him.

Though, he couldn’t help it but he worries about you. He knew you were perfectly capable of taking good care of yourself. He’d seen you stand your ground against Maki-senpai. But being a Jujutsu Sorcerer, there was no guarantee that you’d live another day against curses.

It terrified him to think that he would lose you, that he’d end up without you at all. He…he was close to losing Tsumiki already. And it pained him to think he would be unable to protect you. To think that you wouldn't come home after a mission.

Like always, Megumi didn’t think he’d be able to voice it out loud. He was scared of what you would think. What if you got angry at him for thinking you weren't enough? What if you thought he was belittling you?

He didn’t want it to come across badly. And he was already bad at explaining things. He sighed as his thoughts became heavy. It must have been the exhaustion from training. Yeah, he was overthinking it all. He could tell you well. You’d understand what he was saying.

Still, the nagging worry persisted, and he realized he couldn’t keep these feelings bottled up forever. Every day he spent with you, Fushiguro Megumi felt his heart swell with emotions he couldn’t quite articulate.

It was becoming harder to ignore the way his thoughts wandered to you during missions, how his heart skipped a beat when you smiled at him, and how the mere thought of losing you was unbearable. If he didn’t say something soon, he might explode, and that would be both messy and embarrassing.

So, he decided that today was the day he would finally confess. He had to. There was no going back on this. He was in love with you from the start. He knew that. Backing out now….he’d just suffer. And so his free day was spent thinking about you and lamenting about you.

He spent the morning overthinking every possible outcome, mentally rehearsing what he would say. He had even considered writing down his feelings, but each attempt ended up crumpled in the wastebasket. He was at one point close to breaking his mirror. But he realized that would make him worry more because of bad luck. So he stopped.

The entire day had passed, and Megumi still hadn’t managed to confess his feelings. He’d woken up with every intention of telling you how he felt, but each opportunity slipped through his fingers like sand.

In the cafeteria during breakfast, he’d seen you sitting at your usual spot, animatedly discussing the latest manga you were reading. Megumi had slid into the seat across from you, silently willing himself to say something—anything. Instead, he sat there, listening to you talk about what you were excited about today, nodding along as you spoke.

“...and then I found out there’s going to be a new chapter released next week!” you said, your eyes bright with enthusiasm. “Can you believe it, Megumi? I’ve been waiting for this arc for months!”

Megumi forced a smile, trying to focus on your words instead of the nervous energy buzzing inside him. “That’s great.” he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. “I’m glad you’re excited.”

You raised an eyebrow, sensing something was off. “You okay? You seem a little...distracted.”

“Yeah, I’m fine,” he lied, avoiding your gaze. “Just thinking......about some stuff.”

You accepted his answer, but he could tell you weren’t entirely convinced. You always knew what he looked like when he’s lying. But you let him do it. You don’t think that you should pry. He will open up eventually. He will tell you what’s wrong when he's ready. He always has.

Later, as the two of you went for a walk around the school grounds, Megumi tried to muster up the courage to finally speak his mind. The sun was high in the sky, casting dappled shadows through the trees as you strolled along the path. You walked close enough that your shoulders occasionally brushed, sending a thrill through Megumi each time.

“This weather is perfect these days, you know!” you remarked, tilting your head back to gaze at the sky. The sun was shining brightly, casting a warm glow over everything it touched. A gentle breeze rustled the leaves, filling the air with the fresh scent of summer. “It’s days like this that make everything feel...right, you know?”

Megumi nodded, silently agreeing as he walked beside you. He couldn’t help but notice how the sunlight highlighted the contours of your face, making you look almost ethereal. Your hair fluttered slightly in the breeze, and he found himself mesmerized by the simple beauty of the moment.

The two of you had fallen into a comfortable rhythm, your footsteps in sync as you meandered through the school grounds. The path was lined with vibrant flowers, their petals swaying gently in the breeze, adding a splash of color to the serene scene. It was a perfect setting, and Megumi knew it was the right time to speak his heart.

He could feel the words forming in his throat, the weight of them pressing against his chest. Every time he opened his mouth to speak, doubt crept in and silenced him. What if he messed up? What if he said the wrong thing and ruined everything?

He glanced at you, searching for a sign, anything that might give him the courage to speak. Your expression was peaceful, content, as you took in the beauty around you. It was moments like these that reminded him of why he’d fallen for you in the first place.

He took a deep breath, feeling the cool air fill his lungs. His heart was pounding, a relentless drumbeat that seemed to echo in his ears. Megumi knew he couldn’t let this chance slip away, not again.

“You know….” he began hesitantly, trying to sound casual despite the nerves bubbling inside him, “I’ve been thinking a lot lately.”

You turned your gaze to him, curiosity sparkling in your eyes. “Oh? About what?”

Megumi hesitated, momentarily losing his nerve. His mind raced through all the possible ways to say what he needed to. Finally, he forced himself to speak, his voice quiet but determined. He looked at you. Your eyes were the clearest he had ever seen. It took his breath away for a moment. You pat him. He forgot how to breathe.

As you walked side by side, Megumi found himself growing increasingly tense, his nerves threatening to overwhelm him. He had been working up the courage to tell you how he felt, but now that the moment was here, his heart was racing so fast that he almost forgot to breathe.

“Are you okay?” you asked suddenly, glancing at him with concern. “You haven’t breathed in a while!”

“It’s... alright. I just forgot,” he replied, trying to sound more relaxed than he felt.

You snickered, giving him a playful nudge. “What do you mean you forgot how to breathe?”

He laughed awkwardly, scratching the back of his neck. “I guess I’ve got a lot on my mind.”

You tilted your head, curiosity piqued. “Like what?”

Megumi took a deep breath, feeling the cool air steady his racing thoughts. This was it—the moment he’d been waiting for all day. He couldn’t let his nerves get the best of him now.

“About us. About how much I enjoy being around you,” he said, his words tumbling out more awkwardly than he’d hoped. “I mean, we’ve been through a lot together, and...well, I really like having you in my life.”

Your expression softened, and Megumi could see the understanding in your eyes as he continued to speak. His heart was pounding, but with every word, he felt a sense of relief, as if a weight had been lifted from his shoulders.

You paused, processing his words, and he couldn’t help but wonder if he’d made a mistake. But then you smiled, a soft, genuine smile that eased his fears. His ears were red. He seemed embarrassed. And nervous. He looked so cute.

“I like being around you too, Megumi.” you replied warmly, your eyes shining with sincerity. “You’re one of my closest friends. You know that. You’re my best friend.”

Megumi’s heart sank slightly at the mention of friendship, like a souffle collapsing in the oven. He could almost hear the sad trombone playing in the background. This was his one shot to get this right, and he knew he had to be clear.

“Yeah, but I mean...I like you as more than just a friend.” he blurted out, his words coming out in a rush like a nervous racehorse out of the gate. He blinks. Oh. He just said it out loud.

You blinked, surprise flickering across your features. “Huh?”

“I...I like you,” Megumi repeated, his voice cracking slightly, sounding like he was a teenager going through puberty all over again.

“You do?” you asked, your eyes widening in disbelief, as if he’d just revealed he was secretly a wizard from another dimension. “Wait, what?!”

He nodded, feeling the weight of his confession lift from his shoulders, though it left behind a trail of awkwardness. He rubbed the back of his neck, struggling to find the right words. “Yeah... I’ve liked you for a while now, but I didn’t know how to tell you. I was afraid I’d mess things up between us. Because we’re friends, and I didn’t want to—”

Before he could finish his rambling explanation, you leaned in and planted a quick, unexpected kiss on his lips. The suddenness of it left him momentarily speechless, his blue–green eyes wide and blinking rapidly, like a startled owl. You turned, hiding your face in your hands. It was too red all over for you to even reveal. Megumi didn’t know what happened. You….you kissed him? You did it first? What happened?

“Nghh—” Megumi exclaimed, his brain short-circuiting for a moment. “That was... I mean, not that I didn’t want that, but... uh, wow.”

Finally recovered — you looked at him and still clearly amused by his flustered reaction. “I figured…… I’d shut you up before you started overthinking everything. You know, like you always do.”

He huffed, trying to regain his composure. “I don’t overthink that much.”

“Uh-huh, sure,” you teased, giving him a playful nudge. “So, does this mean we’re a thing now? Do I get to call you my boyfriend?”

Megumi hesitated, his usual stoic demeanor struggling to catch up with the situation. “I guess so. If you want to. But only if I can call you my partner.”

“Deal!” you replied with a cheeky grin. “Though I have to say, you’re not as smooth as I imagined.”

He sighed, pretending to be exasperated. “Well, sorry I’m not a charming prince. But at least I’m honest.”

“True, and that’s why I like you.” you said, leaning in to kiss him again, this time slower, savoring the moment. “From the start, you know?”

Megumi’s heart did a little flip as your lips met his, a sudden rush of warmth spreading through his chest. It was as if a dam had broken, releasing a flood of emotions he hadn’t realized he’d been holding back. He couldn’t help but smile against your lips, feeling a mixture of relief and happiness.

For a moment, the world around him faded away, leaving only the two of you in your own little bubble. The tension that had been building inside him all day melted away like snow under the sun, replaced by a sense of lightness and joy he hadn’t known he needed.

His mind, usually a constant whirl of thoughts and calculations, was blissfully quiet, focused entirely on the simple yet profound sensation of your closeness. He could feel the gentle pressure of your hand on his shoulder, grounding him in the moment.

As the kiss lingered, he became acutely aware of the details—the softness of your lips, the way you seemed to smile against him, the faint scent of your shampoo carried on the breeze. It was an odd mixture of overwhelming and comforting, as if the universe had aligned just for this perfect moment.

When you finally pulled back, he found himself at a loss for words, his usual stoic demeanor nowhere to be found. Instead, he let out a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding, his eyes searching yours for reassurance.

The look on your face—affectionate and a little amused—told him everything he needed to know. Any lingering doubts he had vanished, replaced by a newfound confidence in the bond you shared.

As the two of you broke apart, you chuckled, “See? That wasn’t so hard, was it?”

“Easier than fighting a cursed spirit,” Megumi admitted, his voice tinged with relief as the corners of his mouth twitched upwards in a rare, genuine smile. The normally stoic expression he wore was softened by a warmth he could no longer hide.

He hesitated for a moment, his eyes flickering between yours with a mix of shyness and longing. “Can I…,” he began, but the rest of his sentence faltered as if the very thought of what he wanted was almost too overwhelming to put into words.

Before he could finish, you took the initiative, a playful sparkle in your eyes. You stepped closer, closing the small gap between you with a confident, yet tender, movement. Your hands found their way to his shoulders, gently guiding him as you leaned in.

Your lips brushed against his in a kiss that was both reassuring and electrifying. It was a kiss that seemed to capture all the unspoken emotions and the depth of what you both felt. The sensation was soft yet intense, a slow dance of warmth and intimacy that seemed to make time stand still.

As you deepened the kiss, Megumi’s initial nervousness melted away completely. His hands instinctively cupped your face, his fingers feeling the gentle curve of your jaw, as if he was afraid to let go and have this perfect moment slip away. The kiss was tender and full of the promise of something more, a shared connection that felt as solid as it was fleeting.

When you finally pulled back, your lips lingered just a breath away from his, the faintest smile playing on your face. Megumi’s eyes fluttered open, meeting yours with a look of awe and contentment. His cheeks were flushed, and there was an unmistakable softness in his gaze.

“You were saying?” you teased gently, your voice a soothing murmur.

Megumi smiled, still feeling the echoes of the kiss on his lips. “I was saying,” he replied, his tone now brimming with a newfound confidence, “that I definitely want more of this.”

You laughed softly, leaning in to give him another quick, light kiss before resting your forehead against his. “So do I.” you whispered, the warmth of your breath mingling with his.

With that, you both pulled back slightly, but your hands remained entwined. The world around you felt like it had shifted into a perfect harmony, where every little detail seemed to fall into place. You finally felt like you finally belonged where you are, in his arms, from the start.

┏━━━━━━༻❁༺━━━━━━┓

epilogue

The late afternoon sun cast a golden hue over the campus as you and Megumi continued your walk, your hands linked together in a comfortable, affectionate hold. You were enjoying the tranquility of the moment, the weight of the day’s earlier tensions now replaced with a sense of ease.

As you reached a secluded spot near the edge of the campus, the world seemed to narrow to just the two of you. Megumi leaned in, his gaze soft as he captured your lips in another gentle kiss, savoring the newfound closeness you both had discovered. The kiss was tender and unhurried, a shared promise of more to come, until—

“Hey, lovebirds! Time’s up!”

The sudden intrusion of Gojo Satoru’s voice startled both of you. You pulled away, cheeks flushed, to see Gojo Satoru standing a few paces away with his trademark blindfold, that ridiculously dashing wide grin and a mockingly exaggerated pout.

“Having a moment?" With that, Gojo turned on his heel, his laughter echoing as he walked away, leaving you and Megumi standing there with a mix of relief and lingering embarrassment. Megumi lowered his head, muttering. You think he’s about to conduct a curse against Gojo Satoru.

Megumi’s eyes widened in surprise, and he quickly stepped back, trying to regain his composure. His face was a deep shade of red, and he rubbed the back of his neck awkwardly, clearly caught off guard.

“Gojo-sensei, what—” he mumbled, clearly flustered. “We were just—”

You turned to Megumi, who was still trying to compose himself, and said with a smirk, “Well, I guess our moment’s been officially interrupted.”

Megumi sighed, shaking his head with a faint smile. “Yeah, thanks to Gojo-sensei. But... I guess it’s kind of funny.”

You nodded, giving his hand a reassuring squeeze. “It is. And at least we know we have his approval.”

“We don’t need it.”

“He’s….he’s your dad, isn’t he?”

“Hgh— no he’s not!”

“But—”

“No, he’s not!”

“Ah, they’re arguing. Their first couple argument!” Gojo Satoru says, still laughing. “True love!”

“Shut up, Gojo–sensei!”

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styllwaters · 1 year ago

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KNIGHT DEITIES

It's been a hot minute since I posted Vivere 44 art. Been intensely busy with school for the past few months but now that I've graduated I've got a lot of time to kill! Since the Knights post surpassed 1k notes I figured I may as well elaborate on them more. I'm so blown away by how much love they're getting already! Thank you all <3

I'm gonna talk a bit about Mountain and Plains Knight religions, mythology and a snippet of evolutionary history. I will cover Polar Knight religions in another post. The focus is on two gods in particular, Uwet-Jana and Kiraiarik.

_______

Uwet-Jana is the demigod of good health, vitality, and inner balance. In some regions they are also the god of fertility. The name of their Host is Uwetsil, and their Helmet is Serrjana. Mainly worshiped by Mountain cultures, Uwet-Jana takes the form of a Knight whose Host and Helmet are physically merged into a singular being.

Kiraiarik [pronounced ki-rai-ah-rik] is the personification of the host-helmet symbiotic relationship. They are the god of symbiosis, rebirth, and love. Kiraiarik was the name given to two immortal partners, a Host and a Helmet, who began as a singular being born to the sea in Ettera’s prehistoric era. Ettera decided to make them Two, one half (the Helmet) ruling over the sea and the other (the Host) having domain over the land. The story goes that in every form they take, they try to find each other - for their body remembers being One.

Both gods have lots of lore to their name. Further information below!

UWET-JANA

Uwet-Jana's Host body has long spines and red stripes like a Pike, and long fingerlike paws like a Helmet's manipulators. The Helmet section sports two long horns and elegant facial markings. Uwet-Jana has an iridescent sheen on their golden fur, catching the rays of the sun in a shimmering glow.

The story of Uwet-Jana is as follows: Both Uwetsil and Serrjana were born as runts, in a dark time when sickly Knights were seen as curses and not worth caring for. Their Order, believing them to be bad omens, cast them out to wander the tundra alone. They believed that the natural forces of Ettera (the Knight’s homeplanet) would quickly end them. However, Ettera took pity on the castaway, sending them three blessings. The first gift was a bone with marrow inside that ensured one is never hungry or thirsty again. Then, Ettera sent a warm, sweet wind into Uwet-Jana’s lungs which warded off all sickness and disease. Finally, a sun shower fell, the rains cleansing them and blessing them with a coat made of ivory and gold.

Transformed into a demigod with a hybrid body, Uwet-Jana was offered a place among the deities in the sky - but they refused, preferring to stay on the ground to share their gift with the mortals. Unbeknownst to them, their Order who had exiled them was struck by three curses from the Gods to mirror Uwet-Jana’s blessings: all the rivers in the area dried up and all their hunts were unsuccessful, leaving them with no food or water. Infections and diseases picked them off one by one, and a great storm ravaged the land, destroying their home and all remaining survivors. Uwet-Jana now blesses Knight Orders who take care of their sick and ailing members, and ignores those who don’t, leaving them to the wrath of the Gods.

Although they are nomadic and always on the move, many Mountain Orders will refuse to leave any sick members behind. They may also keep ivory statues of Uwet-Jana in their bags as a token of good fortune. Sometimes these statues are filled with bone marrow, or have holes which make a whistling sound as wind passes through it as a reference to Ettera’s gifts. Occasionally Pike Helmets are born with an extra long ‘horn’ spike, and are considered a child/reincarnation of Uwet-Jana. Additionally, whenever it rains while the sun is still shining, it is seen as a blessing from the demigod.

_______

KIRAIARIK

Kiraiarik's Host is depicted as a small creature with a striped pelt to mirror its ancestral form, and the Helmet as an aquatic beast with long, trailing red fins. It is frequently shown twisting around the Host, sharing its blood. Kiraiarik is also often simplified as two disembodied eyes looking at each other. (And yes, the artstyle is a nod to medieval depictions of heraldic beasts!)

To understand Kiraiarik, one must be aware of how much Plains religions are intrinsically tied to concepts of evolution and paleontology.

Digression on the origins of Etteran symbiosis:

Large stretches of Plains Knight deserts and scrublands were once submerged beneath the sea. As a result, there are countless fossil hotspots which have been unearthed over the centuries. These high concentrations of fossilised remains have lead to Plains cultures basing their religions around said discoveries. Although many features have been warped, the general timelines are strikingly similar.

For instance, a mass extinction event occurred on Ettera millions of years ago, caused by a series of catastrophic volcanic eruptions on a worldwide scale. This event is known in Plains culture as The Remaking, traditionally interpreted as the planet shedding its skin. Many species were decimated, but some groups survived; these happened to be phyla who possessed an exposed ‘Interfacer’ organ, a precursor to the specialised Integrator organ which connects the Host’s brain to the Helmet’s. Before The Remaking, there was no prior record of the deep symbiotic connection which Knights possess (scientifically deemed ‘Hyperadvanced Mutualism’). The Interfacer organ was used in the phyla for species to communicate simple stretches of data to each other, such as health and reproductive status. After the extinction, populations of these species were dwindling. To ensure their survival, an odd phenomenon occurred in which many individuals began to interface with different species who possessed the same organ - strangely enough, some were able to successfully exchange information. These individuals survived and passed on the practice to their offspring, eventually culminating in what would be discovered as a very primitive form of mutualism. Host and Helmet ancestors (pictured above) were some of the first species to achieve this.

As the planet recovered and populations increased, the relationship continued to solidify and become more complex, with symbiotic species sharing memories, emotions and complex thought. In modern times there is now an entire class of organisms on Ettera which possess an Integrator organ for Advanced Mutualism, including Knights.

Kiraiarik is said to be a manifestation of this relationship. After The Remaking, their two halves finally managed to find each other again, eternally locked in a joyous dance of love. (Side note: the love in question is not platonic nor romantic, but a deeper kind which is indescribable and not easily understood. Due to their intricate nervous systems, Knights have a higher degree of emotional intelligence and can experience sensations we would consider alien). When a Plains Knight is experiencing inner turmoil, they will often pray to Kiraiarik to restore a healthy connection. The god’s blessing is also called upon when an infant Host and Helmet first Assimilate.

Note: Many Plains ‘saints’ and deities have palindromic names which can be read both forwards and backwards, an indicator of holiness. Fun fact, the word Kiraiariku means “Your heart and mine are very old friends.”

Thank you for reading! More Knight content coming soon ;)

#come get yo foood #vivere 44 #my art #knights #speculative biology #spec bio #speculative evolution #sophonts #spec evo #xenobiology #art #illustration #worldbuilding #artists on tumblr #good god I have been working on this for over a month.#also been playing around with a fun new brush #a bit painterly and experimental

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sanarsi · 4 months ago

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Gardens of Eden

Din Djarin x goddess!f!Reader

Summary: Another bounty hunt goes wrong when he comes across a creature whose influence changes his view of everything. Warnings: +18, MDNI, mention of using weapon, goddess!immortal!reader, reader has long hair which can change colour (you will understand), sub!Din (by reader’s power), unprotected PIV, loving sex, soft!dom!Din, creampie Wordcount: 3,4k An: First shot with my fav Pedro boy. For a long time I resisted writing something with him because I thought it had to be perfect. Din is my first love, that's why he and my fav band together create a mind-blowing mix for me. Sooo hold my beer bc I’m just getting started ;) Music I worked with: Take Me Back To Eden - Sleep Token

Masterlist

He had never been in a place like this, a planet full of greenery and colorful flowers like something out of a story about what paradise could look like.

As a bounty hunter, he had been in places that were more look like hell. It was rare for his bounties to be in places like this. The energy that reigned around made it easy to fall into a sense of security, but he knew better than to allow himself to have false feelings.

The transmitter in his hand flashed more frequently, assuring him that he was well on the way to target. His finger rested on the blaster trigger, ready to disarm his opponent if necessary.

His careful steps prevented the slightest sound, giving him the opportunity to create a surprise effect. The quiet chirping of birds echoed in the background, and wild animals fled in panic, sensing danger.

Everything here seemed peaceful, unlike what was happening elsewhere in the galaxy. The dense forest barely let in the rays of the three suns shining high in the sky, yet everything was bright.

The tracker blinked harder, catching his attention, the red light letting him know that his target was within reach.

He looked ahead, putting the device in his pocket and took a few cautious steps before he spotted a clearing ending the forest border.

The birdsong was drowned out by the increasingly distinct sounds of running water. He stopped behind one of the trees and slowly began to look around the exposed area. With the trigger of his blaster, he moved a few leaves blocking his view and then his gaze fell on you.

You were sitting on a large rock by the stream, giggling as you dipped your hand in the water. Your long white hair blindingly reflected the sun's rays and the translucent white material of your dress flowed down your body.

You looked like a living example of innocence.

Din couldn’t tear his eyes away from the way you gracefully moved your fingers across the surface of the water, sitting completely unaware of the threat that he was.

A gentle smile adorned your face, adding to your charm, and he had to admit that he hadn’t seen such a beautiful sight in a long time.

He had seen a lot in his life but he had never experienced such conflicting emotions as you had stirred in him. He knew very well that appearances were deceptive and you could have turned out to be the worst thing he had to fight so far but he simply couldn’t…

He couldn’t shake this strange feeling that he had stumbled upon something beautiful, innocent and flawlessly good. As if some greater power was letting him know that he even shouldn’t have aimed a gun at you.

He stepped forward to get a better view of you, but as it turned out, it was a bad decision.

A dry branch snapped under his weight, piercing the space like a shot. Everything around fell silent as you straightened like a string and looked in his direction. His heart stopped for a moment as he looked into your eyes and saw fear in them.

He cursed himself in mind and slowly walked out from behind the trees, spreading his arms to show that he meant no harm.

Unfortunately, your reaction was the opposite of what he wanted to achieve.

Your hair changed color from shiny white to blacker than the forgotten ends of space in a second. He watched this in shock, slowly approaching you and to his surprise, you didn’t move an inch.

“I don’t want to hurt you,” he said, and to confirm his words, he slowly put the blaster behind his belt. You didnkt even notice, continuing to stare into his black visor, and even though he was wearing a helmet and thick armor, he felt naked under your gaze. “Please,” he added more gently.

His words didn’t work.

The blackness of your hair seemed to only deepen with each step he took. He didn’t know where the feeling of desperation had come from in his body, for you to trust, that he didn’t have bad intentions towards you; or at least not anymore. And it was this desperation that made him fall to his knees a few steps away from you.

Surprisingly, it did just that, your hair lightened a few shades, matching the greynes of his beskar. Your watchful gaze began to examine every inch of his body as if you were assessing the threat he posed to you.

“You’re a bounty hunter,” you noted.

Your voice didn’t match your appearance at all, sharp and commanding, as if you had lived much more than he had. As if you had lived centuries.

“I am,” he confirmed, feeling deep in his bones that trying to deceive you was purposeful. His honesty made your hair lighten a bit and your eyes filled with interest.

“And yet, you don’t want to hurt me.” You raised an eyebrow, wanting to let him know how absurd his words sounded.

“I don’t,” he replied without a moment’s hesitation.

He didnkt know if it surprised you or him more, after all, he had come here for one purpose and he had the impression that you knew it very well.

His answers were short and honest, giving a sense of sincerity but even that didn’t seem to convince you.

“So why are you in full armor and armed?” you asked even though you knew the answer. This wasn’t the first bounty hunter or even Mandalorian with whom you had the pleasure to dealt with.

“It’s part of my culture.”

Yes, you’ve heard that answer before.

“Indeed,” you nodded thoughtfully, your gaze dropping to the shiny beskar again. You had never seen a hunter who looked as majestic as he did, which made you interested in him even more.

Din watched as you finally flinched to look at him from a different perspective, your hair getting closer to its original color with every passing second.

“I can’t trust you.”

Your gaze met his again as if there was no helmet on his head at all.

Your words were completely justified and yet, there was a tightness in his chest that made him realize how much he wanted— no, needed you to change your mind.

Before he could say anything, you stood up from the stone and slowly walked over to him. The sheer material of your dress gave him a perfect view of your entire body, but his gaze was still fixed on your eyes.

“Stand,” you said and there was no room in your tone for his protest.

He obediently rose from his knees, forcing you to look up as he now towered over you.

“I don’t trust you,” you declared, plunging another dagger into his chest. Your sharp gaze made him understand that he was too weak to let you stab again.

“Then make me earn your trust,” he said it confidently and really meant it. He was willing to go as far as he had to.

His words hung between you, finally letting the birdsong and the rush of the stream reach your ears.

The grey slowly began to give way to white with each passing second as you thought about his words and what was behind them.

“I exist beyond any religion.”

These words should have caused a red light to go off in his head, but nothing like that happened. Instead of common sense and the Laws of the Way, a small flame appeared in his body, drawing him towards you. There was nothing in your look that could suggest that you wanted to force him to do something, on the contrary, you were giving him the opportunity to leave.

But the seconds passed and he still stood there, worse, he nodded, giving you a sign that he had made a decision. A decision that start the downfall of his beliefs.

“Your way does not lead here, Mandalorian,” you said as if he didn’t know.

But he did. Better than anyone before him.

But that worry died faster than it appeared the moment your hands found their way to his armor. Despite the beskar separating you, he could have sworn he felt your burning touch.

Your attention focused on the clasps of each protector that you slowly pulled off of him and Din couldn’t do anything but watch your face as if hypnotized.

You carefully placed each piece on the grass, showing his armor the respect he was grateful for.

A sharp intake of breath sounded through his modulator as you knelt before him to remove the protectors from his thighs. The sight was definitely too stimulating for him, and you could see his cock smacking the material of his pants. You didn’t comment on it, but to his surprise, you leaned down and placed a gentle kiss on his bulge. A shameful groan escaped his throat as his dick twitched, eager for your closeness.

You straightened up, leaving him in just his clothes and helmet. Your gaze didn’t meet his as you continued to work on each clasp, revealing his arms, chest, stomach, legs, every part of him that was decorated with scars.

“Will you tell me their story?” you asked, running your fingertips over the wound on his right chest.

Shivers ran through his body at your gentle touch.

“Each one of them,” he blurted out on a ragged breath.

His answer brought a gentle smile to your face, and he didn’t miss the way your hair flashed white again. You felt good again. Safe.

He wanted to ask about it, but as the words formed on his tongue, a dozen other questions suddenly appeared so he just kept quiet. He preferred to blame it on his own flood of thoughts rather than the fact that your gaze was rendering him speechless.

The sparkle in your eyes seemed even brighter than your snow-white hair. For a moment he lost his breath and then he twitched anxiously, feeling your hands on the edge of his helmet.

You waited.

One second, two, but there was no sign of resignation from him, so you continued.

The fresh air brushed his cheeks and then his hair, bringing a strange feeling of relief. He didn’t expect this after he willingly let his helmet be taken off. He expected negative emotions, anger at himself and his tormentor. But when he saw you without any barriers, he couldn’t feel anything but desire.

His dark eyes, dressed in small wrinkles, radiated with warmth but also emptiness.

He seemed lost, not in an endless galaxy but in his own mind.

A curved nose that hid a thin lips surrounded by the same dark stubble as his irises. To that, messy hair from constantly hiding his identity from the world.

He was beautiful. Wounded by life but beautiful.

“You look tired,” you said sympathetically, lifting a hand to stroke his stubbled jaw.

He let out a shaky breath as he felt you.

Like— he really felt you.

His eyes closed on their own and his head tilted, clinging to your hand. His mind barely reached the memory of the last time someone had been this close with him. And he had to admit it felt good. The closeness of another person was so rare for him that he forgot how addictive it was.

You allowed him a moment of tenderness that he needed after so many years of loneliness and watched with affection as he snuggled into your touch.

“Feels nice, doesn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he almost purred with pleasure.

“Will you let me to show you more?” you asked.

His hand covered yours before he began to place soft kisses on the palm of it. He didn’t even know how to describe what he was feeling; desire was too weak a word.

He felt hungry.

And that hunger seemed to keep growing.

The rough stubble irritated your skin and the soft lips brought relief. Every inch of his skin screamed for your attention. You saw how broken he was deep inside, how much he needed what you could give him.

“Please,” he moaned desperately.

“Then kiss me.”

That command made his gaze fall back to your face. He seemed in disbelief, searching for something that doesn’t exist. He found nothing in your eyes that could suggest the opposite of your words.

He didn’t need anything more.

His hands landed on your jaw, holding you hardly as his lips crushed yours even harder. You moaned, not expecting the force he used. He didn’t hold back, couldn’t hold back, allowing himself to drown in the moment as he hungrily began to kiss you. His tongue quickly found yours, forcing you to submit to his guidance. This time, you were the one who began to melt under his touch.

You kissed him back, wanting to give him as much as he needed and even more.

“Fuck,” he gasped. “Lay down,” he said, overcome with the need to claim you.

You shivered, looking at him like a defenseless animal. You backed away from him as much as he would let you, before he followed you like a shadow as you laid down on the grass.

His lips attacked yours again in a thirsty kiss. You tangled your fingers in his hair, trying to catch your breath with every chance he gave you because there weren’t many when his tongue didn’t want to stop caressing yours.

His large, warm hands slowly began to roam your body. Your dress was no barrier to feeling him as should.

He ran his fingertips over your breasts, teasing and bringing your nipples back to life. You moaned, thirsty for his attention in that place which he didn’t give you. Instead, he dug his fingers into the soft flesh of your hips. You wrapped your leg around his, pulling him closer to you.

His hard cock brushed against your core, making him hiss. He couldn’t hold back his instincts any longer, so with slightly too aggressive movements, he began to pull up the material of your dress, and only when it was all wrapped around your waist he was satisfied enough to pull away from you and look down between your bodies.

He was panting heavily from the kisses and allowed himself to stare at your temple for so long that you began to arch with desire. His cock quivered painfully at the thought of being inside you.

“Din,” you begged. His name on your lips sent a wave of shivers down his spine.

He looked at you, wondering how you knew his real name, but when he saw you, he was speechless again.

Your hair was lying around your head, and it wouldn’t have been strange if it wasn’t for the fact that it was now in a shade of light red.

“Please,” you moaned, digging your fingers deeper into his scalp. He couldn’t think straight seeing you like this, lying beneath him and craving his touch.

He wanted to give you what you needed, he wanted it so badly, but he was afraid that after so many years of celibacy he wouldn’t be able to satisfy you, and he really wanted to see you fall to pieces because of him.

“Cyar’ika…” he began hesitantly.

“Stop talking,” you cut him off, sliding your hands down his cheeks. “I want you inside me.” You pressed a kiss to his lips. “Just enter me,” you almost begged, feeling your core throb with desire.

So he did as you asked.

He positioned himself at your entrance and slowly pushed into you. He rested forehead against yours, overwhelmed, reveling in the warmth and wetness you greeted him with.

A feeling of bliss attacked all of his senses at once. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so good, like he was right where he was supposed to be, like he was home.

Your moans mingled as his cock sank fully inside you. He shuddered as you began to clench around him, wanting more.

“It feels so good,” he whispered, and with a groan, he began to gently move his hips. He didn’t want to leave your core for even a second, so he simply ground his hips against yours, constantly filling you all.

You shivered, digging your fingers into his shoulders at the constant feeling of stimulation. Your cunt throbbed around him like she never wanted to let him go.

“Yes, so good,” you moaned, overcome with pleasure that was building inside you. You hugged his arms tightly, surrendering yourself completely to his care.

The gentle movements he fed you with were more than perfect for you to feel what kind of man he really was. He needed someone to show him how to take care of each other and that’s what you wanted to give him today. His heavy breath was lost in your mouth which constantly showed him how good he made you feel; your kisses were everywhere.

He finally forced himself to watch the blissful expression on your face. You looked beautiful, overcome with pleasure, your eyes closed and your lips parted; but what fascinated him more, was the way your hair turned redder with each thrust of his hips. He focused on that and entered you harder noticing the color suddenly darken.

So he thrust again-harder.

You howled as you felt the traces of your orgasm begin to show in your core.

Din began to experiment, he entered you slowly and gently, and after a moment he plunged his cock into you with animal strength. Your hair gave him a show of different shades of red and he quickly understood how that magic had worked.

So he began to do everything to make your hair the reddest it could be, such as a color of blood.

He found the perfect pace and intensity with which he caressed your pussy until you cried out of pleasure under him. He felt as if he had unlocked a forbidden ability that allowed him to know what you felt.

Suddenly everything made sense; black when you were afraid, red when you felt pleasure.

And he had to admit that red suited you the best.

“Fuckin’ beautiful,” he gasped, clenching his jaw as the pleasure began to build in his core too.

Your hair began to flash like a transmitter that led him to you, letting him know that you were fighting against the last barriers that separated you from fulfillment.

“Come for me. I know you want to,” he whispered against your ear, sending the missing stimulus through your body. The orgasm overshadowed your senses and gave him a unique spectacle as your hair ignited like living fire. Your pussy began to throb on him and he couldn’t fight the pleasure you were pulling him into.

He growled, cumming inside you in several bursts until his balls were empty. The orgasm momentarily blurred his vision and left his body trembling. The experience of such an aegis after so many years was overwhelming for him.

He wasn’t experiencing his peak, almost panicking from the intensity of it but then your fingers had a grounding effect on him. The gentle touch of your hands brought him the desired feeling of stability.

He looked at you with a drunken gaze and the first thing he noticed was your warm smile, only later the delicate pink color of your hair.

Tenderness.

He found himself wanting to learn what each remaining color meant. He wanted to be present for everything so he could learn to read you like an open book.

His breathing slowly calmed down under your touch. You stroked his cheek, watching a million emotions that flew through his eyes. You were silent, allowing him to experience, understand, and accept his own emotions, something he didn’t experience often.

“What are you?” he finally asked the most important question. You smiled tenderly and pulled him into a gentle kiss.

This gesture ignited something inside him, making him realize that he would like to feel this every day when he woke up and fell asleep.

“I am everything.”

#din djarin x reader #din djarin x you #din djarin x y/n #din djarin smut #the mandalorian x reader #the mandalorian x you #the mandalorian x y/n #the mandalorian smut #pedro pascal x reader #pedro pascal x you #pedro pascal x y/n #pedro pascal smut #sanarsi fic

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yuoimia · 1 year ago

Text

one chance pt.2

summary: you give them one chance. how do they use it?

characters: kazuha, lyney, wanderer, zhongli

notes: zhongli’s is super rushed im sorry, gn reader! wc: 200-400

part 1: alhaitham, diluc, neuvillette, wriothesley

kazuha

Lethargic movements of cascading waves rock the ship, emanating a warm ambience of comfort, wrapping you around in a dreamlike mist. It’s dark, the cabin is silent, and dawn is slowly approaching. Nevertheless, swallowed in the labyrinth of blankets and pillows, your sleep is undisturbed, a line of drool evident on your chin.

Unlike usual, the space next to you is empty. Strange, isn’t it? The whole blanket has been carefully intertwined around you, a beautifully simple yet loving action calculated from the very depths of his heart.

It’s likely that you’ve probably forgotten.

The one chance you’ve given him, the perfect time, and Kazuha would be a fool to let it pass.

—

The sudden explosion of sunlight almost blinds you.

“Kazuha… It’s too early,” you mumble incoherently, sleep still tangling your words, your movements sluggish as you follow his blurry figure. “Besides, where are you taking me?”

Kazuha rotates to face you, a gentle smile plastered on his cheeky face. Almost flirtatious.

“Take my hand,” he whispers, etching closer and pulling you just a bit further. “And look.”

He doesn’t let go of your hand, moving to your side, revealing the dazzling sky he promised since day one.

lyney

Sitting in the front row of the Opera Epiclese means you’re able to catch the smaller things. Actions are more precise, mistakes become more prominent, and, of course, the stars are always shining more magnificently than ever.

Tonight, it’s Lyney and Lynette.

Their voices glide over the exhilarated crowds, cheering and clapping jubilantly at the success of one of the final tricks. Confetti rains from the ceilings, glitter gleams from every corner, and finally, it’s time for the show to end.

The curtains aren’t closing, and no one is moving.

That mischievous glint in his eyes, directed solely at you as he bows, a discreet hint on what he’s going to commit next.

—

A vibrant bouquet of rainbow roses lands on your lap.

You look around, and for a second, you’re confused.

Then you finally understand. It’s almost humorous how he managed to remember that small promise.

Everyone else has a singular, crimson rose.

“A beautiful red rose as a token of our appreciation,” Lyney announces, beaming towards the audience. “And a single bouquet gifted the most delightful person here, who once told me that I had only one chance to charm them without words.”

When his eyes meet yours, it’s victorious—painfully so. Almost as if saying to you: I told you, didn’t I?

wanderer

You’ve been staring at the bland ceilings of your shared bedroom for nearly all day.

The furniture that once was neatly placed in their respective areas are now all messily piled up against the door. It’s locked, but today, you were highly determined to be as agitating as your boyfriend was, no matter how many stacks of furniture it’s going to take. Even if a small part of your resolve was beginning to run out like the sand in an hourglass.

You’re currently debating if you should just abandon this fruitless attempt. He always did this better anyway. Being sulky was really not your thing, and perhaps he knew that too; otherwise, he likely would’ve barged in the first few seconds of your outburst of annoyance.

There only seems to be one problem—a big problem. How are you going to return the stacks of furniture to their original placement in the most quiet fashion so he wouldn’t suspect a thing? So that he wouldn’t suspect that you’ve lost your own competition? You didn’t even bother to conceal the scrapes and bangs when first assembling it.

A few ideas spout in your head, each more desperate and ridiculous than the previous.

An irritating sigh escapes from you as you flop back onto the bed, once again back to square one.

—

From somewhere within the depths of your shared bedroom, a snicker escapes. And then another.

The variety of sleep lines on your arm and heavy pounding in your head are evidence that you fell asleep. When you sit up, movements tired and slow, everything looks and feels lopsided. As if the world had been rearranged. The space before the door looks so empty… Wait, didn’t it hold a barricade of furniture before?

Everything begins to connect; you begin to piece together all the possibilities, but not before someone has to butt in.

“Good morning, sleepyhead.”

The closeness of the voice startles you; the warm familiarity sending a coded message down your spine.

Next to you on the bed, lying on his side, looking all proud and pleased, is the only person who could get away with all this. Winning your heart and being every exception.

“This is the only time I’ll forgive you. This was your last chance, okay?” you warn.

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies airily as he sinks beneath the covers. “You’ll repeat that the next few hundred times too.”

zhongli

Strange things have been happening these past few months.

Maybe you’re just overthinking it, but you swear everyone knows something you don’t. The only person you can agree is just as clueless about it all: the consultant of Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, Mr Zhongli.

However, he’s also been acting a bit unusual lately. You haven’t seen him in a while, and you’re not stupid enough to believe that it’s a coincidence that you never bump into him anymore.

The possibility makes your heart sink.

Moving on, you assess his boss, Director Hu. Typically bright and vivacious, more than often singing lively poems throughout Liyue.

Lately, she’s been more short-tempered. You recall her complaining about something about having a scaredy-cat consultant just yesterday evening.

As if she could hear your thoughts, a hushed ‘boo’ comes from one of the bushes.

—

“Aiyaaa… This bush is so spiky..."

“Director Hu? What are you doing hiding in a bush?”

She glances up, rubbing her sore arms before squeezing further into the bush with a desperate, “Shush! He’s coming!” at your bewildered expression.

You turn to where she was pointing, and it’s…Zhongli?

Zhongli with a bouquet of glaze lilies?

Your breath hitches as he gets closer, a gentle smile gracing his face as he offers you his hand.

The split second before he hands you the exquisite bouquet, a faint giggle is heard from behind you.

“Guess you’re no longer a scaredy-cat anymore, Mr. Zhongli? It’s about time; he’s been dying to do this for months.”

#genshin x reader #genshin fluff #genshin imagines #kazuha x reader #lyney x reader #wanderer x reader #zhongli x reader #anya writes ✧.*

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leonw4nter · 11 months ago

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Give Me A Star In The Sky and Promise To Be By My Side

Knight!RE4R!Leon x Mermaid!F!Reader

fluff, medieval setting, no use of super flowery words, mentions of death/dying (once or thrice i think)

SUMMARY : Leon's a knight in shining armor but he begs to differ because he swears God sent him an angel with a voice that outshines all that comes along with an even shinier mermaid tail.

Fighting. Killing. Coming back alive when men you considered your brothers are dead. This is all something Leon is used to ever since the royal family has taken him in as their knight; no compensation, no amount of pay could ever repair the damage that fighting mutant horrors beyond human comprehension has done to him. He has lost it all– friends, family, and the will to live. He has considered ending this torment with a rope around his neck but he never could bring himself to do so; someone has to do the job because if he doesn’t, then who will? He takes a swig of the strongest whiskey he can get his bloodied hands on, hoping to drown his sorrows and dissolve the faint image of his comrade’s mangled body that lingered in his mind like a taunt that he will never rebuild his life again and one day, he too will die like this and there will be no loved one to grieve his death; no one to lay flowers on his grave, no grave to be paying respects to but as if there was ever anyone in his life to visit him in the first place. He did not think that he would be deserving of praise or recognition; no matter how many times he scrubs his hands clean, there would always be blood on them. He zones out, dead blue eyes focused on nothing in particular as the voices that taunt him grow louder and sound as if they’re doubling in number. The grip on his glass falters, fingers trembling as tears flood the waterline of his eyes. Forcing himself to get a grip, he refills the glass and takes another long swig as he lets the drink burn his throat.

God must certainly exist because it’s as if He saw Leon struggling to keep the voices at bay and decided to send down an angel to sing solely to overpower the demons with her powerful voice; Leon thinks that maybe God still has some compassion to spare for a rabid stray like him. Leon keeps his head down, trying to keep himself grounded as a euphonious voice begins to sway his soul and move him gently. He finally looks up and sees a singer on stage, clad in a beautiful red dress; the color red never fails to make Leon feel a twinge of betrayal and hurt but this red is a shade he will always associate with silencing the raging screams in his troubled mind.

The peace is interrupted when a group of drunken men stumble to the front of the stage, filthy hands reaching out to touch her legs. Her voice weakens and trembles slightly, eyes widened and darting to and fro from the audience and towards the men. Leon decides that this is enough and gets up from his seat, walking over to the front of the stage and grips the wrist of one man tightly but the man does not give up easily; punches thrown, glass shattered, and noses bloody, guests pour out of the club, leaving you and him alone. He tells you his name and you offer yours, both of you knowing full well this is not the last time you two will see each other again. With a small nod, he turns around and heads out the door to retire back to his quarters. Swiftly, you grab a cloak and run outside to follow him. He hasn’t wandered too far off from the club so manage to catch up to him, placing a hand on his back. As a small token of your thanks, you give him a mermaid scale. Drawing him a little nearer, you place the iridescent golden scale on the pocket of his gambeson and give it a safe little pat before pulling away.

“What was that for?” he asks, gaze falling to his pocket.

“It’s a thank-you from me. I feel the need to repay you for defending me so I decided to give you my scale.” you respond, a small smile on your lips.

“A fish scale?”

“Mermaid scale.”

“I’ve seen large, rare fish sold to merchants with scales like these but thank you, I guess. I just did what’s right.”

All the singer does is laugh and look up at him with sparkly eyes.

Leon tries not to hide the bewildered look in his face. Mermaids are not real, they’re simply manatees that explorers have misidentified but she seemed a little too kind and eager to express her thankfulness so he takes it, not saying another word. It wouldn’t hurt to keep around a rare fish’s scale so he decides against giving it back or throwing it away on his way to his quarters.

“I’ll see you around, Leon.” you respond before giving him a small bow and heading back in. He looks back at you once but you look back three times, incredibly grateful for such a man to have stepped in and done something about the harassment.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

Even after a few days of the charming singer giving him the scale, he still keeps it around and carries it with him everywhere. He doesn’t know why he does so but he just does, perhaps out of respect for the singer; maybe it’s in her culture to give a kind stranger something like that and he’s just respecting whatever customs she may have. Sometimes, he pulls the scale out and holds it up to the sun or whatever source of light there is to admire the scale. The scale is a lot thicker and bigger than the usual fish scale so he figures that it must have come from a bigger kind unknown to the region. He has also decided to frequent that club more, staying around not for alcohol alone but also the music; the club had two or three singers but out of all, he most preferred to hear you sing. You always looked radiant, making the room seem brighter than it is but whenever you spot him in the sea of spectators, he swears you seem to look a lot brighter. You two don’t talk, him being a man of few words and you being an introverted person but occasionally exchange glances that said enough. It is easy to admit that the man is attractive but she didn’t feel anything more than just the mere urge to offer the man some company and same goes with him yet there were times where he felt his heart thrum whenever he recalled the way the corners of your eyes wrinkled whenever you smiled, how your eyes squint first before a bright grin graces your red lips; the way your glossy hair would softly sway along to the song as if there were waves causing your hair to dance along to the melody. He found himself subconsciously looking around for any threat looming around to disrupt the peaceful atmosphere you have effortlessly created and to keep you safe, of course. He also began to cut back on the whiskey he always got, making sure he only limited himself to a number of glasses in order to stay sober so he could rush in and protect you fast if the situation arose.

This night, being in the club would stay in his imagination as he is sent to roam the forests for threats of those crazy cultists running around and planting parasite eggs around; news of livestock and villages from more rural portions of the kingdom reached the town, causing the king to raise alert levels within the kingdom’s line of defenses. The evening sky is dark, littered with shimmery dots of white and silver moonlight that beamed through tall and dark trees. The gale is cold, a refreshing contrast to the hot afternoon; the wind gently blows, as if caressing Leon’s body like he’s made of thin glass and gently ruffling his slightly unkempt blond hair. He’s not wearing his usual bulk of armor tonight, opting for white long sleeves and a black leather doublet over it; a belt to contain his sword and daggers hang on his waist, causing a faint clanking noise with each stride. Despite being tall and muscular, his footfalls were trained to be as light and noiseless as possible to keep him undetected when he was on duty. However, light footfalls are nothing when you fail to keep yourself guarded and fall prey to who you are supposed to be preying on. An assassin sneaks up from behind him and renders him immobile, a handkerchief damp with a sedative substance clamped over his mouth which causes him to lose his consciousness. The assassin holds his heavy body, pulling it to some place else to effectively keep him immobile. Blade belt removed, hands and ankles tied, a black cloth covering his eyes, the assassin lugs him to a cart used for the transport of the dead and takes on, disguising themselves as someone assigned to pick up bodies and send them to a burial ground in order to properly execute their mission.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

“Leon! Leon!,” Chris calls out. The man walks and looks around, his booming voice reverberating through the woods.

“Where in the hell is he,” he mumbles softly. Leon is someone who always knows the way and would always come back; he could be set to drift out at sea with a blindfold to his eyes and his arms constricted but he would always get back, no matter what.

“No sign of Leon anywhere,” Luis responds. Luis, one of the palace’s scholars, had been called over by Chris to ask him about Leon’s whereabouts. When Leon was not hanging around the barracks, he could be seen in Luis’ laboratory flipping through books or observing Luis’ notes.

“Ran off with a certain lady friend of his, perhaps?” he jokes, a failed attempt at making the situation lighter. Chris’ forehead creases with worry, fumbling around his pockets for a cigarette only to remember that he left it at his chambers. “So much for trying to quit.” he thinks to himself. They continue discussing where Leon could be, occasionally calling out his name every now and then, wading deeper into the forest. Suddenly, they hear a child’s helpless screaming. The screaming sounded a little more reverb, as if he was trapped somewhere.

“You hear that?” Luis asks, to which Chris nods.

“We’ll help you kid! Hold on!,” Luis exclaims as he and the other brunette set off to find the source of the noise.

“Help us! We’re in a well!” the kid exclaims. Luis raises an eyebrow at Chris; We? What did he mean by “we”? Could it be that Leon is with the kid too?

The pair rushes to the source of the sound, the child’s voice growing clearer and clearer with each speedy stride. Finally, a well comes into their view and they sprint towards the well. They peer down and see Leon, finally conscious but his head is tipped up for if not, he would sink below the water and drown. On his shoulder is the child, legs untied but hands bound together. His clothes are wet, cheeks deeply flushed from all the crying he’s done. The way they are positioned looks odd; the kid, despite being much much smaller than Leon, is standing with the water up until his ankles whilst Leon looks like he’s struggling to keep his head up and it occurs to them that he’s letting the kid stand on his shoulders to call out for help despite his weakened state.

“Don’t worry, we’ll get you chico!” Luis exclaims before scrambling off to find a rope, a vine– whatever they can use to get the kid and Leon out. Luckily, a portion of the rope was stuck on a stone that jutted out from the inside of the well and if Chris took a stick and brought a portion of the rope up, he could get them both out. Unfortunately, there wasn’t a stick sturdy enough to support the weight of a child but Luis piped up with an idea.

“Chico, can you jump for me?” Luis calls out. He smiles half-heartedly, trying to stir up some feelings of confidence in the kid.

“I’m going to need you to jump as high as you can and grab on to that stone,” he adds with a slender finger pointing to the stone that juts out.

“Think you can do that for me?”

The kid hesitates for a moment, looking down at Leon and back up. His bottom lip quivers and a look of fear flashes in his bright green eyes before shaking his head and breaking out into a new set of tears. A grunt could be heard coming from Leon, all his energy going into keeping his body up for the kid; he hasn’t even broken out of the ropes, more focused on getting the child out before himself.

Luis mutters something in Spanish and Chris considers shedding his armor to climb down and somehow try to get the kid and Leon himself, even if the odds are stacked up against everyone. Without warning, a yelp from the kid could be heard as he took a leap without warning, one tiny tied hand holding onto the rock.

“Help me!” the kid cried in a shaky voice and nasal tone. Chris bent down as deep as he could, his hand stretched and trying to get the kid’s wrist and lift him up.

“This might hurt a little but it’ll be fast, I promise!” he says before finally getting the kid’s wrist. Luis holds on to his waist to keep him from dipping into the well too much. With a few grunts, Chris finally manages to lift the kid out. Luis sheds his coats, wrapping it around the shivering kid as he tells the child to sit beside the well and try to stay warm. Leon, however, stays trapped and has gone beneath the water due to the downward thrust when the kid lept. The two men above the water consider shedding whatever clothing and dividing down, spotting a golden glow beneath the water. Golden? But the moon appears silver this evening; the faint light appears as if it’s beneath the waters. Interesting.

─────────────────────────────────────────────────────

She is backstage, gently patting powder into her face as she gets ready for tonight’s performance. She has her best pink dress on, silk embroidery casting a peachy sheen whenever golden candle-light struck the threads; long locks of her hair is kept away from her delicate face using starfish hair clips, strands defining the plumpness of cheeks the shade of tropical corals and framing her soft jaw. She spreads her lips into a wide smile, trying to get more of the product into her cheeks when she feels a sharp pain in the left side of her chest. She hastily returns the powder puff into the pot, a dainty hand flying to her chest and clutching it as she tries to catch her breath. The pain persists for a few more seconds until she realizes that someone may be in dire trouble. Hurriedly, she grabs her coat and runs out of the club. The ache in her chest could only mean one thing: a recipient of her scale needs her help right away, that recipient being Leon. Leon is the only person she’s ever offered her scale to, that tiny iridescent thing connecting the both of them in a way she didn’t quite expect. She has heard of what offering a scale could entail but she didn’t expect it to be like a map; she doesn’t know where he is but a connection to an item of hers just leads her there. She speeds through the thickness of the forest, legs pumping fast to get her to him as fast as possible. Not too long after, she spots a well and she feels the ache grow stronger. A hand flies up to unclasp her coat, hurriedly moving over to the clips in her hair to let it drop down to the floor. She spots two men and a child right by the well, the men shedding their shirts and vests. One of the men, the tanned and lean one between the pair, reaches out to her but she doesn’t pay them any mind. Stretching her arms in front of her and keeping them together, a shimmery flash of pink plunges into the well and hits the water with a loud splash. Immediately, her eyes adjust to the darkness and her legs shift into an opalescent gold tail. With a strong kick, she sets off to find Leon whose eyes are closed. She spots a muted gold glow in his chest pocket, her scale and sees his hands below his back. Hastily, she swims up to him and takes his arms; a broken piece of rope is attached to wrist and the same goes for his ankles. Wrapping her arms around his waist, she swims them both to the surface of the water but his eyes are still closed. Offering him some of her strength, she unwraps her arms from his wrist and places her tender hands on his face, she lets her lids drape over her eyes and brings her face near his. Tilting her head, her soft lips meet his lightly chapped ones; a surging tide of warmth and some miraculous strength courses through Leon’s formerly limp body, eyes slowly flying open only to be met by a blur of dark blue and a stinging sensation which causes him to shut them again. He could not see but he is certain that it’s her; an odd yet not uninvited swimming giddiness overrides his ability to reason logically and before he knows it, he finds himself pressing his lips back only for her to finally pull back and reach the surface of the well. Leon had always been the savior, the knight in the armor dirtied from war and he does not mind it– not at all but it is at that moment of nearly stepping into night’s Plutonian shore does he realize that maybe, just maybe, it doesn’t hurt to have someone save him for a change. As a man who has seen the face of war and smelt the stench of death, he has learned to raise strong walls to protect his heart from abandonment but through this moment, he comes to the realization that you’re slowly taking those walls apart but he doesn’t resent it– not one bit.

He wakes with a painful cough, sitting up and spitting out all the water from his lungs. With each jerk of his body, tears spring in his eyes from the sheer pressure he’s exerting just to get everything out. He feels a satiny touch fall on his back and he turns around; the singer from the club he frequents holds him in her lap and strokes his back from all those forceful coughing fits.

“You alright?” she asks in the most silvery voice he’s ever had the high grace of hearing.

“Yeah,” he responds with a hoarse voice. His throat feels weird and scratchy, a hand coming up to feel for his Adam's apple. He looks back at her and notices that they’re both drenched, her shimmery sleeveless dress clinging to her body and her long hair still dripping with water. His gaze falls on her cheekbones and drifts down to her arms and spots subtle opaline scales, similar to the ones on her legs. Her hands and feet look a lot more webbed, eyes appearing a little more bright than the average person’s.

“Thanks. For what you did. I mean it,” he softly says.

She smiles, still patting his back.

“It’s nothing. It’s sort of like me returning the favor for when you defended me back in the club.”

She coaxes him closer to her and he lets himself rest against her body, the weariness of the ordeal setting deep in his bones.

“How’d you find me?” he asks.

“The scale. My chest hurt while I was getting ready and I figured that you’d be in some form of trouble. I had this weird intuition on where you are and I ended up saving you.” she responds.

“Didn’t know you had a ladylove, sancho.” Luis chimes in, which causes the both of you to look avert each other’s gazes and attempt to conceal the deepening glow of pink in your cheeks. Chris finally finishes putting his garments back on, a smile on his lips. Urging Luis and the child up, they go to move somewhere else but not too distant from the both of you. Leon lifts his right hand up, gesturing it to you and shows you a gold radiance wrapped around his ring finger like a thread. You tilt your head, bringing his hand closer to you until you notice that the luminescent thread connects to your own ring finger, which also resembles thread.

“Am I going to be a mermaid too?” Leon speaks up.

“N-no… I don’t think so. This is my first time seeing something like this.” you quietly say. The threads disappear, fading into shimmery moonlight that lingered on you two for a swift moment.

“You’re a mermaid.” Leon mumbles faintly.

“Yeah, I am.” you say.

“That explains the voice.”

“And not the scale, which you thought belongs to some kind of rare fish?”

“You aren’t entirely fish but you’re quite the catch if I do say so myself.”

“Oh?”

You turn your head to a side not facing Leon, shutting your eyes and biting your lip in a moment of pure glee as waves of excitement crash over your body, a coral tint adding more color to your face.

“Let’s get back. It’s getting colder.” you finally say as you try to fight back a smile.

“Sounds like a plan.” he says as he flashes that swoon-worthy grin.

NOTE - THANK GOD I'M FINALLY DONE WITH EXAMS OH MY LORD. Fun fact: I started this fic when I was supposed to be studying for one of my tests and I finished this when I'm currently supposed to be practicing for a music class requirement :3 Making the fic look a lot more cuter took more time than I initially thought but I don't mind tbh. I'll be inactive from January 25 to 26th because I'll be on a day-long school trip. Hopefully I'm passing all my tests because I will be CREMATED if I don't. Also ordered my Leon photocards and they haven't arrived yet (baby come home) That's all and I'm really thankful that you've read my fics and enjoyed them :) I love you <///3

The animated pink divider and chain dividers are from @cafekitsune , the images are made by me (sourced from Pinterest).

#leon kennedy #resident evil #fluff #leon kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x y/n #leon s kennedy fluff #leon kennedy x reader #leon scott kennedy #leon s kennedy #re2 #resident evil 4 #resident evil x reader #biohazard #resident evil 4 remake #re4make #re4 remake #re4r

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xzaddyzanakinx · 1 year ago

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| Not Yet | part one

An Anakin Skywalker X FemReader Oneshot

18+ MDNI

Warnings: Eventual Somnophilia, Cockwarming, oral, fingering, unprotected vaginal sex, etc. (More warnings to come in part two)

Aggression, anger, biting, pinching,

Info: Unburned Anakin, Darth Vader Anakin - No Mask, Established Relationship, Anakin is broody but he adores you. He destroys something of yours he’s not sorry. NOT proofread❤️

Anakin Skywalker, leader of the Empire. A powerful Sith, a harsh and unforgiving presence looming over the galaxy. Known for his anger, his hatred, his ruthlessness.

No one would suspect that behind the mask, underneath the intimidating vocoder, is a soft smile. All boyish charm, beautiful sky blue eyes with just a hint of yellow. A scar across his right eye, a token of his past that he wears well.

The dark web of his blighted path is littered with holes of light shining through with the memories of his younger years. You see him for what he truly is. A master weaver.

And weave he did, straight into the missing piece of your soul.

Anakin, The Lord Darth Vader, would be seen as a weakened man if any one were to discover how he acts behind closed doors. The web of lies stretches far and wide, but never into the confines of your shared quarters. When the mask is removed, your Anakin emerges. Your sweet boy, loving, caring, considerate, everything that Vader is not.

The vastness of space always seemed to calm you, it was peaceful. The stars seemed close enough to touch as you pass the planets hanging in the surrounding darkness, watching them slowly shrink as the Death Star made its way to the next destination.

The long curved window of your living room was your favorite spot to sit and read, Anakin had a large oval shaped lounge chair designed specifically for you just for this very purpose. He couldn’t understand why you’d remove the couch cushions and place them on the floor just to be near the window, so he’d surprised you with the beautifully made black velvet seat. If you could call it that, really it was more of a day bed.

As you lay there, book in hand, the door opened abruptly causing you to jump.

“Ani?”

There was no response from behind you, just the hissing of the release of his helmet followed by the soft thump of hard plastic against the plush carpet. It was rare that he returned in a foul mood, and clearly this was one of those days. You knew better than to ask questions, he hated talking war and politics with you, work was work and home was home. He kept them entirely separate, no one dared to bother him with questions or updates once he’d stepped foot into your quarters.

You heard him huff in annoyance as he stomped off to the bedroom. You sighed and placed your book aside, making your way to the kitchen. A nice little glass of whiskey worked wonders on him on days like this. You poured a generous amount, grimacing when the smell hit your nostrils. You sat the glass aside, sliding the whiskey bottle back into its place.

You prepared his favorite snack, peanut butter and bananas, a strange pairing for whiskey… but he liked it so who were you to judge? You left the plate and glass on the counter for him and made your way to the bathroom.

You drew a steaming bath, complete with bubbles and fragrant oils, placing two fluffy towels and his robe beside the sink. He never asked you to do these things for him, but you knew he enjoyed it. It was a habit you’d started and followed religiously after the first time he’d returned home in a sour mood like this.

You undressed allowing the fabric of your dress pool at your feet. Slowly sinking into the hot water, you closed your eyes and waited for him.

Soft footsteps alerted you to his presence, a small smile upturned your lips as you opened your eyes to see him standing above you already nude. Whiskey glass in hand, he stepped into the tub in silence.

He settled in, taking a sip from the glass before setting it aside, letting his head tip back against the high wall of the porcelain tub. His hand felt for your ankle, pulling it to rest on his thigh, he rubbed his thumb gently back and forth against your skin.

He tugged at your ankle slightly, trying to get your attention after a few minutes of comfortable silence.

“M’ sorry I’ve been grumpy.” Anakin whispered, watching you with a pout as you opened your eyes.

“Had a rough day?” You asked him, earning a groan and a nod as confirmation.

He shifted, trying to crawl into your lap. His cheek rested on your chest, nestled between your water slicked breasts. His left hand came up to lazily circle your nipple, watching in fascination as it hardens under his touch. With your legs on either side of his torso you took the opportunity to trap him there with your thighs. Smirking at the low rumbling you felt his chest make against your abdomen.

“How can I make it better?” You asked, twirling a strand of his damp hair around your pointer finger.

“Neck.” He grumbled shrugging his shoulders to encourage you.

“Mhm,” you grinned, placing your hands on his shoulders but not moving. You were waiting for a ‘please’.

“C’mon, you asked how to help and this is how.” He picked up his hand and flicked water at your face.

You let your fingertips ghost across his skin, hearing him sigh, you guessed it was a mixture of gratitude and impatience. You pressed a little harder watching his skin dimple beneath your touch. A small strangled moan left his lips from the sensation, just like you’d hoped. A smirk crawled up the corner of your mouth as you stilled your movements.

“Fucking stop doing that!” Anakin pinched the skin on your ribs harshly.

“Ow!” Before you could think you had smacked the back of his head. “Oh shit oh Ani I’m sorry!”

He slowly raised his head and you couldn’t help but be mesmerized by the golden flecks in his eyes that so intensely burned into yours. Ani had a temper, that you knew, you rarely fought and it was never caused by something as small as this. A little teasing was just part of your love language but occasionally you’d find yourself stepping over the fine line of ‘cute annoyance’ and straight into ‘Jesus FUCK! Where’s my fucking stun gun!’, followed by laughter from the both of you.

Though this time, he wasn’t laughing.

He lifted himself up with his hands firmly planted on either side of your hips, a glare in his eyes that could’ve burned through beskar as he dropped his line of vision to your chest. Before you could think of a good apology for bothering him, your brain short circuited from an intense sharp pain.

It took longer than expected for your mind to catch up with what you were seeing. Anakin had bitten you right on the softest most sensitive part of your breast. He was merciless with it, sinking his teeth in and leaving a perfect impression on your skin. It was already bruising as you ran your finger over it gently. You looked up to see Anakin watching you with a glazed look in his eyes, no emotion on his face.

“What the hell Anakin?!” You shrieked.

He stood sharply, making sure to completely douse your face and hair in water as he kicked his legs up and over the edge of the bathtub. He snatched his robe from the counter and stomped off, leaving puddles as he went.

“Fine. Whatever.” You mumbled, knowing it was not fine and it was not whatever.

You drained the tub, taking extra time to pamper yourself once you got out since someone had decided that you were enemy numero uno. You wrapped your hair around a soft silk strip to create waves once it dried. Lotion and oils applied to your legs and arms gave your skin a delicious scent and a shine that almost glowed in the dim lighting. The bite mark was throbbing and warm as you rubbed bacta-gel over it with a wince.

Normally you wouldn’t mind sporting a bitemark like this. But right now, looking at it didn’t give you a shiver as you remembered an intimate moment, it brought a red blush of anger to your cheeks.

You exit the bathroom in your towel, peering cautiously into the bedroom. Anakin was no where to be found so you went in, throwing on the first nightgown and panties you could find. Your mind whirled with reasons for his anger, but there were none. This wasn’t something you’d caused. But it was something you’d fix.

Anakin POV

Everything was so constricting. My robes, my shoes, my gloves, the stupid fucking mask. My hands flexed into fists over and over as I walked.

“I can’t wait to get home to her.” I thought.

That breifing was shit. Absolute shit.

That moron Tarkin had gotten eight, eight Imperial Cruisers, damaged and one completely destroyed beyond repair. How did this happen?

“My apologies Lord Vader”

“Those fighter pilots came out of no where!”

“You don’t understand Lord Vader! It was just a routine visitation to the Outer Rim, we weren’t aware there were Rebels gathered there!”

If he wasn’t someone who’d never made a mistake in the entirety of his career under my supervision I would’ve crushed his windpipe while he dangled above the conference table. What a way to achieve your first mistake.

The moment I walked through the doors of my quarters I dropped my helmet, shedding my outer robes as I trudged to the bedroom.

“Ani?”

I sighed when I heard her sweet voice, smiled when I heard her set aside what she was doing just too brighten up my terrible day with my favorite guilty pleasure. I dropped my clothes to the floor, kicking them out of the way before walking out the door, not caring that I was stark naked.

We must’ve just missed each other in the hall because she wasn’t in the kitchen when I got there, and the sound of water running hit my ears a moment later.

I didn’t deserve such a woman. Someone so gentle and caring. But here I am, graced with her presence every day.

I chuckled when I saw she’d made a smiley face with the banana slices.

Her body.

Her gorgeous body lay before me in the bath, she looked so serene with her head resting tilted back, her slender neck exposed. Her gentle breathing lifting her chest from the bubbly water, exposing her naked breasts with each inhale.

The water was so warm that it drew an involuntary groan from me as I slipped into my spot across from her. Soon finding her ankle, rubbing my thumb across her soft skin, doing this to sooth myself more than her to be honest.

“M’ sorry I’ve been grumpy.” I mumbled, knowing my attitude was horrible since the moment I returned.

“Have a rough day?” She furrowed her eyebrows, always concerned for me, always worried.

I nodded, it was a rough day. Horrendous actually. I groaned and lifted my head hit the porcelain behind me to make my way over to her open arms. Melting into her body as I rested my head against her chest, centered between her soft, supple breasts. I couldn’t help but reach out and tease one, just to watch it rise from the simple touch.

She squeezed my sides a bit, gentle enough but much to hard for me after the day I had. I bit back my complaint, by bruised ribs not worth ruining the sweet moment between us.

“How can I make it better?” She ran her fingers through my hair, gently massaging my scalp.

“Neck.” I replied, a bit more gruff than I intended. I wiggled my shoulders hoping she’d take the hint.

Her fingers slithered across my skin, palms resting on my shoulder blades.

“C’mon you asked how you could help, this is how.” I flexed my hand, bringing above the water to throw little droplets at her face.

That seemed to do the trick, I relaxed against her under the light pressure of her fingers. Letting my hands travel up her waist to rest my thumbs in the crease created under her breasts.

Though I love her massages, sometimes she takes too long to begin to really work out the knots. She kept lifting her fingers, removing them completely, bringing them back for soft pressure only to take it away again. Finally she really dug in, hitting the spot that ached the most, it was almost satisfying. It would’ve been if she hadn’t ripped her hand off me again.

“Fucking stop doing that!” I growled, pinching the tender skin on her ribs a bit harder than intended.

“Ow!” She shrieked in pain.

I went to immediately apologize but before I could make a sound her palm delivered a swift ‘whump’ to the back of my skull. Something deep inside me snapped. My breathing stopped as I felt an intense streak of rage run through my spine.

“Oh shit, oh Ani I’m so sorry!” She yelped out, she clearly did it from reflex. But the apology fell on deaf ears.

I lifted myself above her, steeling my gaze into her eyes. Normally I wouldn’t mind being smacked around by her, I encouraged it actually. But this wasn’t the bedroom, and today wasn’t a normal day. Before I could stop myself my impulses controlled my movements.

My mouth clamped down into her breast, digging my teeth in harshly. Coming to my senses I quickly released her, feeling immediate shame as I looked in her eyes again. She was hurt, physically, emotionally… it only intensified when she inspected the wound.

Her eyes snapped up at me, fire burning in her irises.

“What the hell Anakin?!”

She sounded as hurt as she looked, I couldn’t bare it. But I also couldn’t force my mouth open to speak. So I did what I do best, avoided it. I left the tub in a hurry, not caring that I’d left a lake of water in the floor as it splashed over the edge.

“Fine. Whatever.” She whispered under her breath. It wasn’t fine, and it wasn’t whatever. It was wrong of me… but I couldn’t say that right now.

I grabbed my robe and headed to grab some pajamas, hoping to hide myself away so I could contemplate which way I’d prefer to grieve the loss of my marriage when she served me with divorce papers tomorrow morning.

You had searched every corner of your shared quarters, and Anakin wasn’t sulking in any of them.

“Anakin!” You yelled and waited but got no response.

You threw on your slippers and grabbed a throw blanket to wrap around yourself as you left the warmth of your quarters to search for him in the cold corridors.

Once you’d made your way to the end of the hall, you turned left in the direction of his office. You passed a few troopers on your way who gave you a wide berth as they passed, not daring to make eye contact.

“Hey!” You said, trying to get their attention.

You startled them so badly that they collided into each other before they quickly turned to face you.

“Y-yes ma’- sorry.” One cleared his throat and started over, “Yes Empress?

“Where is Vader, I need to speak to him please?” You asked your polite tone never ceased to shock the subordinates and it shows.

“Oh-uh he…” one started, and another cut him off.

“Last I know he was headed in the direction of your quarters Empress. Shall we escort you?”

“No that’s not necessary. Thank you boys, carry on.”

You turned on your heels, padding down the hall back in the direction of your quarters. Leaving the stunned troopers behind you.

Soon after arriving home again you searched the apartments. Finally giving up when you realized his helmet was missing from the spot it landed on the floor. You resigned to crawling into bed alone, for the first time in years.

Tag List:

@tsugumiholic

@kingdomhate

@burnthecheshirewitch

Let me know if you wanna be added/removed!

Thanks for being so understanding. I’m truly devastated that I lost part of this post. I’ll do my best to re-write it better than the original😭

#anakin x reader #anakin smut #sw anakin #anakin skywalker #star wars #star wars fanfiction #slutty anakin #star wars anakin #darth vader #darth vader smut #anakin skywalker x reader

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cloaksandcapes · 5 months ago

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We really, really love this design. It was made along with an illustration for our Sky Knight Class (which you can find on our Patreon!). We let the stream name it, and the Moonlight Lance was born.

Who wants to create a Lunar Dragoon character now? Only us? Okay.

Moonlight Lance

Weapon (lance), very rare

“This long, thin lance is made of an alloy rumored to be from the moon. It was forged and crafted by a sect of druids that have never worked with metal, except for this one weapon. It’s dressed in druidic runes that harness the energy of the moon.”

When you hit a target with this weapon, if the moonlight property has been used and is no longer active, you deal an additional 1d8 radiant damage.

Moonlight. When you hit a creature with this magic weapon you can summon a silvery beam of pale moonlight that shines down in a 5-foot-diameter, 20-foot-high cylinder centered on the creature, dealing 2d10 radiant damage. Until this effect ends, dim light fills the cylinder. You can maintain this moonlight for 1 minute by concentrating on it as if it were a spell. When a creature enters the moonlight for the first time on a turn or starts its turn there it takes 2d10 radiant damage. You can use a bonus action to move the moonlight up to 20 feet in any direction. Once you have used this property of the weapon, it cannot be used again until you finish a long rest. Mastercraft Weapon. Add an additional half of your proficiency bonus (rounded down) to attack and damage rolls made with this magic weapon.

Join us in Discord or on Twitch every Mon\Wed\Fri to create new D&D Homebrews like magic items, monsters, or subclasses. If you want to support Cloaks & Capes check out our Patreon for 657+ magic items, 12 monsters, 200+ tokens, maps, and more for just $3\month.

We add over 30 new items a month and 1+ monster a week.

(Bonus Sky Knight teaser!)

#DnD #Dungeons and Dragons #DnD5e #Homebrew #Magic Item #DnD Homebrew #Homebrew Magic Items #dnd 5e homebrew #dnd item #dnd stuff #DnDaDay #Moonlight Lance

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pearlywritings · 1 year ago

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Only if I were to write them down

synopsis: the only way these loving words would end up in a book

prompt: 25

requested by: my dear @nerdyladyrebel

pairing: Kaeya, Kaveh x fem!reader (separarely)

tw: fluff, established relationship, tipsy Kaeya, Kaveh brought those three foxes home

word count: 2k+ words in total

a/n: part of my Token of appreciation writing event! Closed now, still have 4 more requests to write.

Kaeya

“Did you know that Kaeya is most creative with his compliments when he is tipsy or borderline drunk?” You chuckle, one arm wrapped around your lover’s waist, to keep him leaning into your side and walk somewhat straight, the other motioning towards Rosaria, who made a decision to accompany you two home just to be sure that nothing happens. To you or to the citizens she didn’t clarify, but you could bet it was the latter. Reasons? Those very compliments you’ve just mentioned. And maybe a couple of instances of kissing in the middle of the street late in the evening.

“Let me assure you I could’ve lived without that information just as merrily as a moment ago,” the sister of the church deadpans and you roll your eyes. Here goes your attempt to try and strike up a conversation. Well, maybe, just maybe you’ve been infected with Kaeya’s talkativeness tonight and walking half the city with two companions and staying silent? Not happening.

“Come on, Rosa,” oh, look at that, someone’s decided to join your cute little chit chat. The shape or star in his eye shines just as bright as the ones in the sky when he lifts his head from the side of yours to direct his attention to the fellow cryo user. “Don’t be a party pooper.”

“Never said I was a part of your ’party’,” at that the male whines and it’s hard to contain your amused laugh.

“Hey, handsome, don’t be sad. After all, isn’t it best that this party is just for the two of us?”

Your words make your lover perk up immediately, attention fully on you, the sister of the church completely forgotten.

“Ooooh, you are absolutely right! You are so smart, it’s sexy~”

The corner of your lips ticks in attempts to fight a smile when Rosaria makes a gagging noise. Kaeya, however, ignores her as if she doesn’t exist. And that’s the truth - because right now, tonight, on your way back to your shared apartment, nothing exists for the Cavalry Captain - only his loveliest, dearest girlfriend.

“Y’know I was soooo jealous,” he drawls, words confusing you - if you recall the evening correctly, no one approached you even once, and the conversations you had with Rosaria were pretty brief.

“Who were you jealous of, baby?”

“The glass.”

“The glass?” You cock an eyebrow, meeting Rosaria’s eyes for a second, then immediately looking back at the man. “You mean, the one I drank from?”

“Mhm,” a pout forms on his lips and he leans even more into you, to nuzzle against your cheek. “Because you were making out with it.”

The nun at his other side chokes and it’s unclear if it’s from her friend’s audacity or amusement. You only see her reaching into her pocket for a cigarette, as if saying ‘I am not dealing with you two right now’.

“Oh, I’m sorry, love, for making you think that was the case. I assure you that once home we’ll be making out for real.”

“Nice,” a smile against your neck is victorious. “No one is stealing my girl from me.”

“No one was trying to,” the woman huffs out a puff of smoke, flicking ash. “Everyone is too fed up with your lovesick aura when Y/n is nearby.”

“I can’t help it Rosa!” He whines again, clutching your body closer to his. “Look at her!” Saying those words he himself glances at you with eyes full of adoration and undying devotion. “She is like the embodiment of beauty itself. If asked, I won’t be able to choose what I like most about her. Her hair is like glass, shining marvelously in the sun, so captivating. Her hands are like flowers, so delicate like petals, palms holding me like uncurling buds in the bloom…”

As he goes on and on, Rosaria’s face gets more and more alike to a person who ate something sour. You lift an eyebrow. See? That’s what I was talking about.

At your teasing smirk, she just rolls her eyes, and waving a hand with a smoldering cigarette held between fingers, the woman bids her goodbye, turning left to the next street.

You, on the other hand, finally get you and your rambling lover home. Only passing the threshold of your apartment does Kaeya take a break, bending to pull his boots off.

“So…” you hum, remembering his very first couple of compliments, that sounded exceptionally lyrical not to end up imprinted in your memory, “saying my hair looks like glass, and my hands are flowers… how romantic you are,” the Cavalry Captain straightens up with a satisfied look on his face, which quickly turns offended by your next question. “Or are they just words from the book?”

He gasps, clasping his chest. He looks much sober now. Which could've been so since much earlier - it wasn’t uncommon for Kaeya to pretend to be more delirious than he actually was for his personal gain.

“A book! My, are you doubting my ability to speak the truth of you? These could have ended up in a book only if I were to write them down!”

“Alright, alright, I believe you,” with a smile you take a step closer, lifting your hands, but stopping right before touching his cheeks. “Let’s then get your face into my palms and your fingers in my hair, shall we?”

Kaeya Alberich has never been more eager to act on someone’s words.

Kaveh

“Beautiful?” You hear your boyfriend shout from his study, calling for your attention. Startled, one of the desert foxes Kaveh brought home years ago, jumps in its spot under the dining table and dashes out of the kitchen. You hear two more sets of running paws rushing to the blonde’s room.

“Yeah? What’s up, love?” Shouting back you reach for a towel to wipe your hands - you were about to start working on dinner.

“Can you come here for a sec?” Another question echoes in the house, followed by a quick yelp - looks like one of your friends reached the inviting lap of the architect first. Chuckling, you hang a towel and exit to the hall.

And just as you anticipated all three fennecs were squirming on top of the Light of Kshahrevar, while the said Light held them firmly against himself, not letting them jump onto the table. Noticing you, Kaveh’s face turns desperate.

“Please, remove the blueprints!” Too used to this, you simply walk to the desk and carefully lift his sketches, putting them away and safe from the animals’ sight. Assured that his work won’t be destroyed, the architect loosens his embraces, giving the trio freedom to go nuts all around his work space.

“It’s your fault they are like this,” you chuckle, removing a pencil from behind his ear. “Every time you call for someone they assume it’s time for treats.”

“I know, I know,” your lover sighs, leaning back into his chair and watching the two foxes about to scream at each other sitting on top of the table, while the last one is tugging on a trinket of his shirt. “I should’ve been more responsible.”

“Mhm. Now, what were you calling me for?” Grabbing the back of another chair in the room, you bring it closer to Kaveh’s, sitting down and catching one of the little troublemakers from the desk, bringing it to your lap. The blonde stares blankly at his hands for a moment and then his eyes flash with recognition.

“Oh, right! It’s nothing serious, don’t worry. It was just a… sudden thought and I wanted to know your answer.”

“So, it’s a question?” Fingers run through the sandy fur of your floofbaby, making it squint happily.

“Yeah, a question,” rosy eyes meet yours and you simultaneously smile - for no particular reason.

“Go ahead, songbird.”

“Alright... A client of mine came with a peculiar request… He wants to build a house in the image of his wife.”

“Oh? That’s interesting and actually so sweet! But I hope the wife is in good health, yes?”

“Yes, don’t worry. It’s just his way of expressing his love for her. We spent quite a few days discussing the designs, determining how I can integrate his feelings and her traits into the structure… But that’s not actually the point right now.”

Already having prepared to engage in a discussion regarding his new blueprint, you are surprised to hear that his question might not have anything to do with work. But the intrigue has been planted and you can’t wait to hear what possibly your boyfriend could be wondering about.

“Since you are the person who knows me better than anyone else I wanted to ask you - if you had to choose a building or any kind of structure to describe me... What would you choose?”

A building or a structure to describe Kaveh? The Kaveh? The architect who rebuilt half of Sumeru, made a name in history and is held in high regard by the Dendro Archon herself? There is probably no piece of architectural art to be as grand as this man is.

However, you know that he asks you as your lover, as the person who you cherish the most and who loves you as passionately and selflessly in return. Who makes you smile without a fail, who lets you curl in his lap while he works, rarely complaining if the pose is uncomfortable (which you lightly scold him for), who takes your hand and dances in the rain with you, jumping when the first clap of thunder booms and rushing you back home with a boyish laughter. The man who makes you feel the safest, most adored and beautiful woman in the world. And for this man you have a definite answer.

“Promise me you won’t be offended if don’t say ‘a temple’ or something alike,” the blonde shakes his head, releasing the fennec that was clinging to his shoulder, and reaching out for your hand. Your own fox is set free too, and the two of them jump back onto the table, startling the third one, and the crazy running around starts again. But neither of you pay attention to it anymore.

“Of course I won’t take it to heart. I am asking for your sincere opinion.”

“In that case,” intertwining your fingers and firmly holding his hand in a lock, you lean forward, as if it was a secret, “I think you remind me of a greenhouse.”

“A greenhouse?” he hums, scooting even closer, sitting on the edge of his chair. “What is motivating this idea?”

“It’s quite simple actually. Your hair are as pretty as glass, so sunny and bright, perfect for the flowers that grow. Oh, but the flowers are your hands, despite being rough from hardships and sometimes dirty from the smudged pencil, they are still as tender as delicate as the petals. But most importantly inside you grow the most marvelous thing that is ever to bloom - love. I am a lucky girl to be taking care of it.”

With soft expression you witness blush creeping onto his cheeks and readily move closer to let your foreheads touch in a tender gesture.

“Saying my hair looks like glass, and my hands are flowers…” Kaveh muses, a warm smile playing on his lips, eyes staring right into yours with such deep emotion, “how romantic you are. Or are they just words from the book?”

“Only if I were to write them down.”

“Oh, my muse… I love it.”

You don’t deny your lover when he tugs you forward, sliding himself back into his chair and leading you onto his lap, into his embrace. With arms loosely wrapped around his neck and his palms resting on the small of your back, you indeed feel like you are surrounded by wonderful flora.

“Are you going to let me stay in your greenhouse?”

Kaveh chuckles, reaching up, searching for your lips.

“Only if you promise to stay in it forever.”

#pearly writing appreciation event #token of appreciation #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #kaeya x reader #kaeya x fem!reader #kaeya alberich x reader #kaveh x reader #kaveh x fem!reader #kaeya alberich #kaveh #genshin impact fluff

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imasallstars · 2 years ago

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SR/SR+ 【Shine In The Sky☆】Koharu Koga

FOCUS STAT 　　　 6176 VOCAL at max Level, Max Bond, 0 Potential

TOTAL APPEAL 　　　 13 440

Skill:「Dream In The Sky」　　　 (Skill Boost) For every 9 seconds, there is a 40~60% chance that skills activating in the same time will be boosted, for 4~6 seconds

Center Skill:「Tricolor Voice」　　　When all the three types are available in a unit, all card’s SKILL PROBABILITY increased by 40%

※ this card is available through ranking in the Top 200000 in the Shine In The Sky☆ Token event. You are able to get multiple copies of this card, by ranking in higher tiers of the event

※ you are also able to obtain this card by reaching 15k, 25k, 35k, and 45k points in the Shine In The Sky☆ Token event.

#deresute event #token: shine in the sky #koharu koga #koga koharu #center: tricolor boost #skill: skill boost

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whyisaravenlike-awritingdesk · 8 months ago

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A Taste of the Divine (ao3)

@nestaarcheronweek day 4. Returning from a mission, the Night Court’s spymaster arrives back in Velaris in need of a stiff drink above all else, but after seeking out Velaris’ seediest tavern, Azriel gets more than what he bargained for when he finds Nesta inside. Post-ACOWAR, pre-ACOSF. Title taken from The Summoning by Sleep Token.

Even after a week away, the cobbles beneath his feet did not yet beckon Azriel home when he returned to Velaris.

With the dust of the Continent still clinging to his boots, the Shadowsinger looked up at the horizon, finding the distant lights of the House of Wind against the darkening sky— slices of golden light piercing the rock of the mountain, and though Azriel ought to have glimpsed the light shining from those windows and rushed forward, he remained exactly where he was; standing a thousand feet below, finding no desire at all to go home just yet. At Rhys’ behest, he’d spent the past week observing the human queens on the Continent, his mind fixed towards schemes and plots with nothing but his shadows for company. And now…

It took a while, after a mission, to remember what it was to live outside of the dark.

So he didn’t want home. Didn’t want the welcome he knew would be waiting as soon as he stepped over that threshold. He was too accustomed to the dark, to the hidden corners and the silence, and what he wanted more than anything right now was a fucking drink.

He needed to feel the burn of whiskey sliding down his throat, blurring the edges of his mind. But he didn’t want the shiny, polished bars he frequented with Rhys. He didn’t want Rita’s. Azriel wanted grit and dust, wanted the back alleys and the dim bars lit by candlelight.

A place where his shadows could melt into the darkness, one and the same.

And so he found himself ten minutes later standing at a worn and chipped wooden bar top, a coin laid on the counter to pay for the liquor the barkeep poured into a short glass. There were no faelights here to bathe the place in a pleasant glow. Only candles, flickering flames few and far between that illuminated the gaming tables and left the corners swathed in shadow. It was run down and sub-par, and yet, Azriel thought dryly as he nodded his thanks to the bar tender, wasn’t that exactly how he felt? Wasn’t this exactly what he needed?

The whiskey burned his throat as he drank— cheap and sharp, scraping its way down through his chest, setting a fire behind his ribs. He grimaced as he took a large sip, baring his teeth with a soft hiss as he set down his glass.

Before the burn had subsided, his shadows tittered. Whispered.

Even above the din of the bar, Azriel heard the footsteps approaching. Heard the heels slamming against the wooden floorboards as his shadows skated along his arms, coiling around his wrists. He didn’t turn; didn’t bother to see who had dared draw near.

“Did my sister send you?”

The voice was cold and flat and resolutely furious— and above all else, familiar. Azriel turned his head to find Nesta standing beside him at the bar, with her arms folded over her chest and her eyes alight with anger. Silver swirled in those eyes, churned like a riptide, and her jaw was clenched so tight it made him wonder if she was physically biting her tongue to keep it behind her teeth. Her hair was swept up in her usual braid, leaving the long column of her neck exposed, and as the candlelight danced across her bare skin, it dragged golden fingers across her collarbone, illuminated the planes of her that would have most men begging for the chance to touch her.

Azriel wasn’t most men— but still, it was an effort to pull his eyes away.

He let his gaze skim her face, raising one eyebrow as he barked a dry, sardonic laugh. Downing his whiskey, he ordered another with a flick of his wrist, a twist of his fingers.

“No,” he answered, sliding another coin across the bar in exchange for another double measure. “Nobody sent me.”

“Then what are you doing here,” she gritted out; not a question but a demand.

Azriel merely lifted his glass, watching the candlelight set fire to the whiskey. “Same as you.”

The silver in her eyes burned as she lifted her chin, met his eye with every ounce of irascible hauteur she could muster. “And are you planning on being my nursemaid all night?”

A sigh slipped between his lips, quiet and resigned. The spymaster shook his head, too tired to argue, and blinked flatly as he answered her with a simple, “No.”

The furrow in her brow smoothed, her dark lashes fluttering as she blinked once, twice. She didn’t argue either, and as she leaned forward, elbows braced against the bar’s surface, Azriel caught the scent of her— something sweet beneath the sharp, something cool beneath the heat of the bar. He swallowed, tilting the glass in his hand, and forced himself to watch the whiskey clinging to the clouded glass instead of studying the way the heat gently curled the strands of hair that had escaped the braid at the nape of her neck. She said nothing, but silently Nesta lifted herself onto the seat beside him, a damn near perplexed expression on her face as she watched him drown his sorrows. Slowly, Azriel lifted his gaze to hers. Ignored the way his shadows shivered. Almost lazily, Azriel quirked a brow and slid the glass towards her, nodding wordlessly; a silent go on, then.

Nesta curled her fingers around the glass in silent understanding, didn’t hesitate in bringing it to her lips and knocking the whiskey back. She drained half before returning him the glass, and when it passed from her grip and into his their fingers brushed. He stilled, the air frozen in his lungs. It was the barest of touches, so slight, and yet one that felt far too much like a spark against touch-paper, almost begging to burst into flame.

Azriel didn’t think about the way that simple touch had his skin feeling suddenly tight.

Didn’t think about the way her lipstick lingered around the edge of his glass.

Nesta looked at him in the dim light, lifting her face until the candlelight glanced across her jaw and—

Gods, she was beautiful.

Azriel didn’t know why he’d never let himself truly notice before, why he’d never let himself fall down the well that was those mercury-blue eyes. Why he’d never given more than a passing thought to her beauty, to the lines of her face that could reduce a man to nothing with the right tilt of her head.

Cassian, a voice inside his head whispered, one he tried too hard to ignore. Cassian is why you never let yourself notice before.

But Cassian wasn’t here, and from what the Spymaster had gathered from his brother’s ranting, he hadn’t been at Nesta’s side for a while now. Had left her seeking companionship in the dark and shadowed corners of Velaris, where the starlight didn’t reach. Anyone with eyes could see that Nesta was hurting and yet— it had been Azriel to find her, entirely by accident, alone in a dive bar.

He didn’t believe in fate. It had fucked him over too many times, and yet—

There was something serendipitous in it, something providential about this chance meeting that made him feel… bold.

“What are you doing here, Nesta?” he asked a moment later.

The question was soft— tentative and half-hidden in the shadows that glided as one along the worn edge of the bar, slinking towards her like they might seek to hide the pitfalls of such an inquiry. Nesta shook her head, strands of hair slipping free from her meticulous braid, and maybe the alcohol made her bold too, because she met his eyes with purpose and didn’t look away as she said,

“I want to feel something.”

She shifted her shoulders back, the silver in her eyes catching in the light of the bar. Azriel’s shadows seemed to shiver, and he couldn’t hide the low laugh that scraped along his throat as his eyes dipped to the hollow of her neck.

“Don’t we all,” he said dryly.

His fingers dragged around the edge of his glass, and Nesta’s eyes tracked the movement, following each circle he made with his fingertips. She pressed her lips together, her sharp eyes dark, and fucking hell— this was new. A kind of uncharted territory he knew he shouldn’t want to map, shouldn’t want to explore with his hands, his teeth, his tongue. And yet he heard her heart pounding behind her ribs, its steady beat kicking when he caught her eye and pulled his gaze down to her mouth, lingering at her lips, and he couldn’t help himself.

Didn’t want to help himself.

I want to feel something.

It echoed in his mind, settling into him like a stone dropped down a well.

Nesta leaned against the old wooden bar; a thing of beauty in place so tragically dim. She tilted her head, and the movement stirred something in him that he knew he ought to ignore.

“You never answered my question,” she said bluntly. “If you’re not here to spy on me, then what are you doing here?”

Azriel sighed, sipping his whiskey and leaving a finger-worth behind. He nudged the remainder towards her, let her finish it.

“Had a shit day,” he shrugged. “Didn’t want to go home just yet.”

Wordless, Nesta lifted the glass to her mouth in an echo of the way she had before— like they were two old friends, sharing a drink together. Yet she finished his whiskey and something beneath his skin tightened as he watched her lips part, glimpsed the liquor glistening on her mouth. He wanted to taste it— wanted to taste it on her tongue, and he swore softly, cursing everything that had brought him to this threshold, so close to tipping over. There was a line he shouldn’t cross, a boundary that he knew shouldn’t be broken.

And yet.

Nesta set the glass back down on the bar. “Care to talk about it, Shadowsinger?”

“Would you care to listen, Lady Death?”

Her eyes shuttered, her face tightening in a way that had Azriel clawing at the past few moments, like a thread unspooling in his hands. “Don’t call me that.”

With a dip of his chin, Azriel nodded. “My apologies.”

Nesta shrugged it off, the stiff set to her shoulders melting as she leaned a half-inch closer, blinking slowly as her heart thumped once in her chest. “Buy me a drink and perhaps I’ll forgive you.”

He pretended not to notice how her voice had dropped, how there was an edge to it that hadn’t been there before. Pretended, too, not to see her eyes darken, shining with intent. He wasn’t fool enough to pretend that his hadn’t done the same, that he wasn’t still thinking of her mouth. His shadows slipped down his arms, begging to go to her, desperate to touch, and it took effort to keep them restrained, to keep them in check. Still, he motioned for another drink. Another two.

And when the barkeep presented him with two short glasses, Azriel slid the first towards her, but kept his hand closed over the rim, the candlelight throwing his scars into relief as he kept his palm flat above her glass.

“Shall we sit properly, then?” he asked, nodding to the booths that lined the back wall. “And stop pretending we’re strangers in a bar?”

Nesta only blinked, amusement threading through those silver eyes like vines through an iron gate. Idly, she hummed. “I’ve never seen you like this, Spymaster, free of your High Lord’s influence. You may as well be a stranger to me right now.”

Azriel rolled his eyes, but lifted his hand from her glass nonetheless. A smirk lingered on her lips even as a kind of surprise swept swiftly across her face— some kind of pleasant shock that he didn’t berate her for daring to mention Rhys at all. Cassian, he knew, was far too sensitive when Nesta criticised Rhys; his brother had frowned and scowled about it too many times for Azriel to be unaware. But it didn’t rankle him the way it did Cassian. After all, what difference did it make to him, if Rhys and Nesta never found a way to get along?

Silently, he gestured to the back of the bar again, ignoring her comment and nodding once more to the tables shrouded in shadow, so far from the soft glow of the candles.

In answer Nesta slipped from the bar stool and led the way, leaving Azriel to follow, a shadow at her heels. He kept his eyes up, refusing to notice the movement of her hips, or the way her dress dipped low at her back, exposing her spine. His shadows thrummed, jerking as if they would reach out to caress the length of that spine, and he cleared his throat around the desire to pepper it with kisses, to trace a line of fire down her back with his tongue. He swallowed around the surge of pure want rising in his blood, making his every nerve feel charged. Unaware, Nesta slid into the booth, her dress whispering across the worn leather that covered the seats, and when she reclined, crossing one leg over the other, Azriel was reminded starkly of a queen in her own realm.

She was, he supposed.

The dive bars of Velaris had never really been all that popular with Rhys or the rest of the Inner Circle. They were wholly in Nesta’s domain, now.

For a moment there was quiet.

And then Nesta dragged a finger idle along the rim of her glass, an echo of Azriel’s earlier move, making it sing beneath her touch. He wondered what else might sing beneath her hands, what else she could do.

“So,” she began airily, “what is it that has the brooding spymaster brooding so much more than usual?”

Azriel laughed into his whiskey. “Brooding?”

“Brooding.” She raised a brow, stained lips pursed as she nodded. “Stop avoiding the question.”

He raised a hand in surrender. “I had a mission on the continent. Surveillance on—“ He hesitated a moment. Not because he didn’t want to share or because she couldn’t know, but because he didn’t want to shatter this moment, to bring the darkness back to her eyes. “—the human queens,” he finished quietly.

Nesta said nothing, but knocked her drink back.

In the back of his mind, Azriel knew what Rhys would say. That he was being irresponsible, feeding Nesta’s vices.

But when he looked at her, he didn’t see a woman lost to the alcohol. He saw a soul struggling to cope, leaning on the only thing that could bring her a little bit of warmth. He’d spent enough time after the first war drinking his own way through Velaris to know, and besides… When Nesta glanced at him and dragged her eyes over his chest, he thought that this was one vice he was more than willing to feed tonight.

“I see,” she said at last. “No wonder you needed a drink.”

Azriel hummed in agreement. Emboldened, he leaned his head closer to hers, dropping his voice to a murmur as he cast his eyes across the bar.

“Tell me. Which one were you taking home with you tonight?”

Nesta stilled, a frown creeping into her brow as silver eyes narrowed.

Azriel shrugged, shaking his head with an idle smile tilting his lips. “Not that I’m judging. I’m just curious.”

She pulled back, curiosity a wildfire in her eyes.

“The one by the gaming table,” she said flatly, without turning to look at the mark she’d had an eye on. “He has pretty eyes.”

Azriel cut a look across the bar to find the fae in question. The male was tall, dark haired, but willowy and thin, and there was a look in his eyes that Azriel didn’t like as Nesta’s intended watched the two of them together in that booth— it was something petulant and spoiled, like he was a child and Azriel had just stolen his new favourite toy. Even his shadows shuddered, whispering their disapproval in a language only he could understand. In answer the spymaster raised a brow and looked at Nesta wryly.

“He looks like one who doesn’t like the word no,” Azriel said, directing a dark look in the direction of the fae by the gaming table. If he made his eyes darken, if he made his face more threatening than usual… well.

“You don’t approve?” Nesta asked, her voice like syrup.

He barked a laugh. “Not really, no.”

“And here I thought you weren’t judging,” she said smoothly, her head shifting to the side as she blinked, saccharine. She shifted infinitesimally closer, just a half inch that had Azriel clinging so tightly to his restraint that it was a wonder it didn’t break entirely. “Perhaps you should tell me who I should take home instead.”

Me, he thought, shifting in his seat. The answer had risen to his tongue without missing a beat, like it was the most obvious thing in the world. It had taken even Azriel by surprise, how easy it was to let even his boldest thoughts bloom around her. His shadows slid along the edge of the table, trailing towards her like they were pulled by some kind of gravity, and when Nesta glanced down at them, a smile curved her lips. When she looked back up and met his eyes, there was something searing in her gaze that had Azriel’s mouth turning dry. He cleared his throat, shrugged, and yet couldn’t bring himself to say it— to give her the answer that ricocheted inside his mind.

But mother above, Cassian was a fucking fool.

Nesta was sitting there, alone, seeking connection with any that would let her find it, and all Azriel could think was—

Me.

Me, me, me.

He couldn’t do it.

“You won’t like the answer,” he said at last.

The amusement winked out of her eyes.

“Let me guess, you think I should be here with your General instead.”

His shadows slinked closer, like even they could see the sting behind her words. And in another world, maybe Cassian would have been there with her. Maybe he would have been the one in her bed. But Cassian was nowhere to be found, and didn’t seem to have any intention of cutting in and finding out what, exactly, had Nesta seeking solace in a place like this. So Azriel blinked slowly, eyes like flint when they caught hers, hazel colliding with silver-blue and igniting in the dim light. His shadows shivered.

“No, actually,” he said flatly. “I wasn’t thinking of him at all.”

Liar— liar. He’d hardly done anything but think of Cassian ever since Nesta had sidled up to him at the bar— hardly been spared a second where some part of him wasn’t thinking of how much of a fool his brother was. After all, if Nesta was Azriel’s—

He didn’t let himself think it.

Nesta’s breath caught audibly. He’d taken her by surprise, and it had a small smile taking root at the corner of his lips. She noted it, tracked the curve of his mouth. She tilted her head, the loose strands of hair that had escaped her braid brushing her shoulder. He wondered what it would be like to plunge his hands into her hair, to pull those braids loose strand by strand. There was a flame in her eyes when she met his gaze again.

“Then why won’t I like your answer, Shadowsinger?”

Gods— was he imagining the husk in her voice? The way it had dropped so impossibly low, edged with some kind of promise, something so damned seductive it had him thinking of all the things she could do with that mouth— all the things he could do with his.

Azriel downed what remained of his whiskey.

“Tell me what you’re looking for Nesta, and maybe I’ll answer.”

She rolled her eyes, and there was a moment where she looked him in the eyes, unflinching. She shook her head, and sat back, changing the subject.

“Has anybody here caught your eye, shadowsinger?”

Azriel scoffed, a low noise in his throat that seemed to make her eyes impossibly darker. It made his skin feel too tight, made his pulse thrum with anticipation so thick he could taste it on his tongue.

Around them, he noted, the atmosphere had shifted. The night had grown deeper, the hour later, and all those who had come to find someone to warm their bed had either left with their quarry already, or was closing in. Azriel glanced around the bar, saw the fae Nesta had thought of taking home sitting at a table with another fae woman draped over his lap, her fingers toying with the collar of his shirt. Beneath the din and the smell of liquor, hands began to wander and eyes began to roam, and in the corner where the candlelight couldn’t quite reach, Azriel felt the darkness masking them and leaned into it— leaned into every piece of the thrill that was building in his chest.

“What if they did?” he asked, looking at her from beneath his eyelashes.

Nesta leaned forward, daring to drag her finger around the rim of his glass. His shadows practically vibrated, the scent of her intoxicating.

“Maybe I’m looking for someone who isn’t afraid of your big bad general,” she shrugged, lifting her finger to her lips, tasting the drop of whiskey she’d collected from the rim of his glass. Azriel felt a slashing smile bloom across his lips, one that was knife-sharp and deadly.

“And that’s your only criteria?”

Nesta huffed a laugh. “You’d be surprised how many run a mile when they realise who, exactly, I am.”

Fools, he thought— all of them, fools who didn’t deserve the chance to kneel before her, to take up space in her bed.

He tilted his head back, resting against the back of the booth and looking down at her. “And that’s it, is it? You want someone who can go toe to toe with Cass and make it out unscathed?”

Nesta hummed, her eyes dipping to his chest, his hands, his shadows. He didn’t think he imagined the way she looked… interested. Maybe it was the whiskey, or the intoxicating look in her eyes, but he smirked, letting arrogance take over.

“Seems to me like there’s only really two people in this entire city that fit that bill, love.” The endearment came out smoothly, without thought. Nesta’s eyes heated. “One is Rhys.”

She smirked. “And the other?”

Azriel laughed, the sound low in his throat. “Do you need me to say it?”

Nesta bit her lip to mask a smile. “I didn’t know you could be cocky, Spymaster.”

He barked another laugh. “There’s a lot you don’t know about me, Nesta.”

She blinked, leaned closer. “How about I find out, then?”

She was so close now, her thigh almost brushing his. It would take nothing, no effort at all, for him to reach out and brush a hand along her leg, beneath the table where none could see. Her eyes were molten, and Azriel couldn’t resist the urge to touch her— to feel her skin beneath his palms. Slowly, he moved his hand, letting it drift until it landed on her knee. His shadows tittered, and when she made no move to escape his touch, slowly Azriel traced a path upwards.

“And what happens when we’re next at the river house together?” he made himself ask, even as his fingers travelled north. They skated over the fabric of her dress, finding the split in the fabric and slipping beneath, his hands finding bare skin as a groan gathered in his throat. “When we have to sit at the same dining table and pretend none of this ever happened.”

Nesta shifted, taking his hand even higher. “I don’t see how it’s any of their business.”

Her own hand darted out, began to trace circles over his knee. His blood pulsed, raced through his veins as his entire body seemed to tremble with need, and fuck— he wanted her. Her breathing grew shallow, the beating of her heart the drum he was marching to, and when his fingers skated over the very top of her thigh, Nesta tilted her head back. A woman almost begging to be kissed.

Azriel cursed his lack of self-restraint; thanked the Mother for it, too.

She blinked up at him. “I answered your question. Now answer mine.” Her fingers gripped his knee tight above his leathers. “Who do you think I should go home with, Azriel?”

Fucking Mother above, this woman.

The sound of his name on her lips was heady, and he couldn’t help it as he leaned in, found his lips bushing her hair. Lower, dragging a slow kiss down to the shell of her ear.

“Are you sure you want to know?” he murmured. Her hand flattened, her palm dragging up his thigh even as his own fingers lingered on hers. Silent, she nodded. His lips were still at her ear, and he longed to graze his teeth over the skin there. Her eyelashes fluttered.

“Me,” he breathed.

Nesta bit her lip again, even as a smirk travelled over her mouth.

“I thought you’d never admit it,” she whispered.

His hand moved from her thigh, up and up, palming over her arm until he reached her neck, rounded it, brought her closer. She twisted in his embrace, and in one easy movement Azriel took her leg and draped it over his own, until she was all but sitting in his lap. The bar was dark already, but he bid his shadows to embrace them a little more, to hide this little corner from prying eyes, and in the darkness Nesta leaned into his touch, dragging the heel of her foot down his calf as she pressed herself into him.

His hands wandered to her waist, gripping her so tightly he wondered if she’d bruise. If he’d leave a mark behind.

Nesta arched into him, her lips close to his neck as she breathed his name.

“We shouldn’t,” he breathed, even though every nerve he possessed cursed the words.

“No,” she shrugged. “We shouldn’t.” She looked at him boldly, her fingers trailing along his arms, across his shoulders. “But is that going to stop you, Shadowsinger?”

He laughed, acerbic. “It should.”

“Not an answer.”

He couldn’t fight the grin that spread his lips, predatory and vicious, and when an echoing smile spread across Nesta’s own face, the laugh that left his chest was dry and heated, heavy with want. He dipped his head, his lips lingering a breath from her neck, from the point where, beneath her skin, her pulse was racing.

“Do you want it to stop me, Nesta?”

She shivered, her eyes closing as he said her name.

She likes that, he thought, feeling his head begin to empty, his thoughts narrowed on her and only her— on the pleasure he wanted to give to her, what he knew she wanted to take. She likes it when you say her name.

He breathed her in, daring to drag a hand down the side of her ribs, feeling her shudder again. He leaned in, his nose against her neck. His body was a continuation of hers; no end and no beginning, like they were two strands so irrevocably tangled there was no telling them apart. Her hands were at his shoulders, her fingers drifting to his neck, and his wandered from her waist to her thighs, feeling the heat of her and relishing in it. He could have drowned in her.

Wanted to drown in her.

“Nesta,” he whispered, teeth scraping against her jaw.

“Azriel,” she breathed, her chest rising beneath his straying hands. He dragged his touch up from her middle, his palm resting at the bottom of her throat.

“Stop avoiding the question,” he said, lips against the shell of her ear as he parroted back her earlier words. In his embrace, she shivered. “Do you want it to stop me?”

She shook her head as his shadows skimmed her ankle, winding around her calf like ivy. “No.”

His heart thudded in his chest, and suddenly he felt like he was falling— like the ground had opened up beneath him. He wanted this, wanted her, and it didn’t matter that she could never be his, didn’t matter that if Cassian ever found out—

Her nails, sharp on his collarbone, dragged him back to her. Cut the thought off before it could bloom.

Fuck everything else— fuck it all to hell and back.

Nesta was in his arms, his hand on her thigh beneath her dress and fucking hell, he could barely find two words to string together in a sentence, so he did the only other thing he could think of— the only thing that made sense.

In the darkest corner of the dingiest bar Velaris had to offer, Azriel lowered his lips and kissed Nesta Archeron senseless.

It wasn’t soft or gentle; they came together like a wave crashing against the shore, all lips and teeth and shared breath that tasted like whiskey. Her hands were around his neck, fingertips brushing his wings, and as his hand splayed flat against her spine, Azriel brought her closer and kissed her with a hunger that spoke to centuries of control finally, finally, beginning to slip. For so long he had kept himself in check— never allowing himself to take what he wanted.

He wanted now— he wanted her.

And Nesta wanted him. He felt it in the way she gasped his name, in the way she tipped her head back to grant him access to her neck. He groaned against her as his tongue tasted the skin beneath her jaw, because—

Divine.

She was divine, something so decadent and heady that his mind was beginning to spin.

They moved in tandem, like this was a dance they both knew the steps to. When her heart skipped a beat, Azriel’s surrendered too; when the tips of his wings shivered with anticipation, a shudder racked through her that began in her chest and ended in her fingers. They were one and the same, the kiss bringing them together, setting them alight, letting them burn like a bonfire.

Azriel never wanted it to end.

Nesta turned in his arms, lifted herself up so that it wasn’t just her legs slung over his knees now. She straddled his hips and claimed his mouth, like she had forgotten where they were, forgotten who they were— they weren’t the High Lord’s brother and the High Lady’s sister anymore, just two souls who had collided in a darkened bar and found their mirror in one another.

Azriel’s hands smoothed down Nesta’s sides as his palms came to rest on her hips. She sat back, putting distance between them as she took a breath. Her lips were swollen, the skin at her neck marked by his kisses. He squeezed her hip once, heard her heart skip in response.

“Let’s get out of here,” Nesta breathed.

She came back for one more kiss, slow this time— lingering. Azriel obliged her. He kissed her sweetly, like they had all the time in the world, his hands rising to cup her face in his palms. When Nesta’s teeth sunk into his lip, he didn’t mask the curse that slipped from him, all at once low and desperate and edged with ecstasy.

“Yeah,” he said, feeling the sting in his lips left behind by her bite. It was the most decadent thing he’d ever tasted, and as he pulled away from her mouth and pressed another kiss to her jaw, he felt the heat in his veins stirring, his blood thrumming and his need for her more potent than anything. One hand dropped to hers, and Azriel linked their fingers together as he rose, pulling Nesta to her feet. He leaned close, breathed her in, let his free hand wind around her waist and pull her into him as he nipped lightly at the edge of her jaw.

“Let’s get out of here,” he echoed.

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b1xi · 2 months ago

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𝙃𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙮 𝙛𝙤𝙘𝙪𝙨

Glenn rhee x reader

Word count:4578

Warninig: blood, dead,Alcohol.

Previous Chapter/Next chapter

You didn’t know how long you had been in Glenn’s arms. Your head rested against his shoulder while he, with gentle and repetitive movements, slid a hand down your back, soothing you with each caress. Every now and then, tears would escape from your eyes again, an involuntary release of all the accumulated fear. Alice, who had been crying desperately until recently, now remained silent, curled up between the two of you, her little head resting on your chest. The sky was starting to lighten, the night’s gloom giving way to the first light of dawn. It was probably five in the morning.

Glenn pulled away slightly, though not enough to completely break contact. His fingers still rested on your arm, as if he feared a single movement might cause you to fall apart again. His tired eyes met yours. You could see the deep bags under his eyelids, the fatigue evident in every line of his face. But despite everything, there was constant concern for you in his gaze.

“Everything’s okay,” he said softly, his voice raspy but full of calm. “Let me take you to your tent. You’re exhausted.”

You looked at Alice, her small body still trembling and her eyes shining with exhaustion. You knew you needed rest, but the mere thought of being alone again filled you with indescribable unease. However, when you saw Glenn’s face, you couldn’t help but worry about him too.

“You’re tired too,” you whispered, trying to show a small token of concern, though you had barely any strength left. Glenn gave a small but sincere smile.

“I’m fine. I just want you to feel safe.”

Carefully, he helped you stand, keeping Alice secure in your arms as he walked with you back to your tent. The camp, which moments before had been a chaos of screams and gunfire, now lay under a heavy, painful silence. You could hear the wind moving through the branches of the trees, a sound that, under different circumstances, would have been soothing, but now made you feel more vulnerable.

As you walked, your heart shattered into a thousand pieces when you saw Andrea. She was kneeling on the ground, her face drenched in tears, her body shaking with desperate sobs as she clung to Amy’s pale, lifeless body. The scene was unbearable. You placed a hand over your mouth, trying to hold back the scream threatening to escape. Andrea’s pain was palpable, so real and tangible it seemed to invade the very air around you.

You forced yourself to look away, feeling the weight of someone else’s grief was too much for you in that moment. Glenn noticed it too. Without saying a word, he quickened his pace slightly, guiding your steps towards the safety of your tent. Every step felt like a battle, not just against physical exhaustion, but against the emotional tide threatening to sweep you away.

When you finally reached the entrance of the tent, Glenn lifted the flap for you to enter. He carefully helped you settle onto the makeshift bed. The air inside the tent was warmer, but it didn't calm the coldness you felt deep within. Alice, though calm, was still in your arms, her breathing soft, but your own unease prevented you from relaxing completely.

Glenn knelt in front of you, making sure you were comfortable before speaking. “You need to rest. It’s all over for tonight, you’re safe here.”

You nodded, though words wouldn’t come out. There was something in your expression that Glenn didn’t overlook. Despite being physically safe, your mind was still trapped in the horror of what you had witnessed. Your eyes still showed a deep fear, one you couldn’t hide.

Glenn remained still for a moment, watching you with concern before making a silent decision. He stood up and took a few steps toward the exit of the tent but stopped when he noticed your hands trembling slightly as you held onto Alice.

"I'm not leaving you alone," he said softly, almost tenderly, returning to your side. He sat on the ground beside you, his presence steady but discreet. "I’ll stay here with you, just in case you need something.”

You looked up at him, unable to express in words the relief you felt. You didn’t want to be alone, not after everything that had happened. Glenn, always attentive, seemed to understand that without you having to say anything. He stayed there, by your side, offering his company as an anchor in the middle of the storm that still raged inside you.

As the minutes passed, the rhythm of your breathing began to stabilize. Alice, finally surrendered to exhaustion, had fallen asleep in your arms.

"Did they find Merle?" you asked, your voice hoarse, forcing the words that seemed stuck in your throat.

Glenn, who had been staring at the canvas floor with his hands clasped, looked up at you, his face somber but calm. "No," he responded quietly, though the content of his words was unsettling. "Just… his hand.”

The impact of that answer hit you like a wave of cold, but all you managed to do was nod silently. You wanted to ask more, but you feared the answer. Instead, you followed up with the next question that had been lingering in your mind since you had seen him arrive at camp.

“Why did it take you so long to get back?” You looked at him with curiosity and concern, waiting for an explanation.

Glenn glanced at you for a moment before letting out a sigh. "They stole the truck," he explained, shrugging as if trying to downplay what he was saying. "And then a group of survivors kidnapped me.”

Your brows furrowed in confusion as you stared at him, trying to process his words. “Kidnapped you?” you repeated, incredulous. “And they were good people?”

Glenn, noticing the disbelief in your expression, smiled faintly. “Yeah,” he replied with a small shrug, as if it were the most normal thing in the world. “They were good people.”

A confused laugh escaped your lips despite the tension of the moment. "People kidnap you, but they’re good people?" you asked, still incredulous but relieved. Glenn allowed himself a small smile too, one that brightened his face in a way that comforted you more than you dared admit.

God, you loved that smile.

“Well, yeah,” he responded with a soft laugh. “I guess it sounds strange, but after talking to them... they're not bad, just as desperate as we are.”

“Thank you, Glenn,” you whispered finally, feeling that the words were not enough to express what you truly felt. “For staying... for everything.”

He looked at you gently and nodded, saying nothing more. Your eyes started to grow heavier before you closed them. The tent’s flap opened, and Jacqui peeked in, looking at both of you for a moment before focusing on you. “Y/N, we need your help. It’s Jim.”

Carefully, you stood up from beside Glenn and walked toward where Jim was sitting, leaning against the side of the RV. Every step you took made you more aware of the disaster surrounding you: bodies scattered across the ground, some in advanced stages of decomposition, others just beginning to lose the life they had left.

Jim looked at you with dull eyes, his face marked by fever and exhaustion. His movements were slow, almost clumsy, as he lifted his shirt to show you the wound that condemned him. You crouched to examine it more closely, seeing the unmistakable marks of a bite on his side. The skin around the small wound was already starting to darken, a sign that the infection was spreading quickly.

You knew there was nothing you could do. It wasn’t possible to cut away the infected part, and even if you tried, it wouldn’t change his fate. There was no cure for what was consuming him. The silence between you was heavy, filled with a truth neither of you wanted to speak.

You slowly stood up, saying nothing, and approached the rest of the group that had already gathered in a circle. The tension in the air was palpable; everyone knew what was coming, but no one wanted to be the first to say it out loud.

"Let’s just put a pickaxe through his head and the dead girl's too, get it over with," Daryl said, his voice full of frustration and anger. You knew he wasn’t heartless; there was just no time for sentimentality in this new world. But his words cut like a knife through the silence, causing uncomfortable glances between the others.

Shane huffed, frustrated, taking a step forward, his eyes blazing with disbelief and irritation. "Is that what you’d want if you were in his place?" he asked, his voice sharp as a blade. His words seemed directed at both Daryl and the rest of the group.

Dixon didn’t flinch for a second, his gaze hard and full of conviction. "Yeah," he answered calmly. "And I’d thank you for it." The coldness in his tone only made the tensions in the group rise further. For him, there was no room for doubt when it came to survival.

Rick, still processing everything, searched your eyes. "What do you think, Y/N?" he asked, a mix of desperation and trust in your judgment in his voice, making everyone else turn their faces toward you.

You took a deep breath, crossing your arms over your chest as your lips pressed together, considering the few options. "There’s nothing I can do for him," you began, your voice measured yet firm. "We can’t cut off the infected area, and even if we did, we don’t have the proper medicine to treat him. I’ve seen what this virus does. If you think Jim is going to last more than two days, you’re fooling yourselves."

Rick lowered his head, nodding slowly as he stared at the ground. He knew you were right, but that didn’t make the decision any easier to make.

"I hated to say it... I never thought I’d agree with something like this, but I think Daryl is right," Dale spoke heavily, his gaze sad yet resigned.

"Dale, Jim is not a monster or a rabid dog!" Rick reprimanded, his voice laden with anguish.

"I’m not saying that," Dale replied, looking at the others with concern.

"He’s sick, and if we take that route, where do we draw the line?" Rick raised the question, visibly affected by the idea of having to end the life of one of their own.

"It’s obvious: zero tolerance for walkers," Daryl insisted, and everyone looked at each other, unsure of how to proceed. "Or in the case of potential ones."

"And what if we get him help?" the sheriff suggested. "I heard the CDC is working on a cure."

"So have I, and a lot of other things before everything went to hell. There were a lot of promises made before this," Shane’s tone was pessimistic as he spoke.

You sighed, feeling tired and lost in the conversation. After a moment of discussion, it was decided that they would try to get to the CDC in hopes of finding shelter and medical assistance for Jim. Meanwhile, the group took care of burning the corpses and arranging a small, proper burial for Amy.

As everyone packed their things to leave in the morning and prepared the vehicles, you decided to go with the others in the RV to keep an eye on Jim’s condition. Upon entering, you took a seat next to the bed where he lay, his body covered by a dense layer of sweat that revealed his fever was beginning to rise.

"You’ll be okay," you tried to offer some comfort, though you knew the words sounded empty. Carefully, you dampened a cloth in cool water and gently wiped it across his forehead, feeling how the heat of his skin burned beneath your fingers.

Jim could only nod before closing his eyes again. You leaned back in the chair, resting your arm on a small table beside the bed. Fatigue was starting to set in; you hadn’t slept since the night before. From a distance, you could hear Alice’s light laughter filtering through the curtains.

After a while, Jacqui appeared to take over, allowing you to rest for a moment. You thanked her for the intervention and reclined, though the stress of the situation kept your senses alert.

Eventually, after several setbacks, they arrived at the CDC. The sight that greeted them was nothing short of desolate. Hundreds of walkers and bodies lay strewn outside the facility, and the smell was nearly unbearable.

Quickly, you placed Alice in her carrier, making sure she was snug and comfortable. Then, you wrapped a light blanket around her, shielding her from the stench emanating from outside.

"What the hell...?" the words escaped your lips as you gazed at the place. Your hands instinctively tightened around the loaded weapon you carried with you.

"Listen up. Don’t split up and stay quiet," Rick ordered firmly as the group moved toward the facility. His words seemed to temporarily calm the latent panic in the air, though with each step you took, your body tensed further.

As you walked, you could see several bodies in an advanced state of decomposition. Birds feasted on the rotting flesh that remained, creating a macabre image that churned your stomach. The group began to move faster, avoiding glances at the decomposed bodies that lay as warnings of the fate that awaited them if they failed to find shelter.

Your eyes fixated on the enormous metal doors of the building when they finally stood before them, closed and showing no signs of activity. Was there even anyone inside?

"Nothing?" Shane asked, turning his head toward Rick with a look of distrust as he saw the sealed doors. Meanwhile, the others kept watch around, weapons ready in case a walker got too close.

"Should we go back?" you suggested, your eyes following Rick and Shane as they knocked insistently on the metal door, trying to attract the attention of anyone who might be inside.

"There has to be someone inside," Rick replied with conviction, still clinging to hope.

"Walkers," someone warned from behind, causing a wave of panic to wash over the group. Daryl reacted immediately, releasing an arrow that pierced the head of a nearby walker with precision.

The situation grew tenser as Shane and Rick argued over what to do next. As the walkers approached, the bullets began to fly, and the desperation in the air became palpable.

"The camera moved!" Rick suddenly exclaimed, stopping the steps of those who were already starting to retreat to the vehicles.

"It’s your imagination," some told him, trying to reason with him.

"It moved!" he insisted, refusing to back down. His desperation was palpable as he pounded on the metal doors again, calling to anyone who might be listening on the other side. "I know there’s someone in there; I know you’re listening to us! Please, we’re desperate; we have women and children, we have no food or fuel, we have nowhere to go! Please!" he shouted, his voice cracking under the weight of the plea as Lori tried to push him away, moving him from the doors.

Your heart raced at the intensity of the moment. You stared intently at the metal doors, silently praying for a miracle, but silence persisted.

Just as you turned to follow the others, a metallic screech echoed in the air, and a blinding light erupted from inside the building, catching everyone’s attention and halting their march.

"Daryl, cover us," Shane quickly ordered as the group ventured in with their weapons raised.

"Is anyone in there?" one of the group members called, but the only response was the echo of their voices reverberating in the vast, seemingly empty space.

The sound of a weapon being loaded made everyone turn their heads sharply. A blonde man, shotgun in hand, was watching them from a safe distance. "Is anyone infected?" he asked seriously, keeping his gaze fixed on each of you.

“There was one, it didn’t make it here,” Rick replied, swallowing hard, keeping his weapon steady.

“What do you want?” the man asked, moving slowly closer, not lowering his guard.

“A chance,” Rick answered honestly, his voice reflecting the exhaustion and desperation everyone felt.

“That’s a lot to ask for these days,” the man replied, a slight gesture of skepticism in his demeanor.

“I know,” Rick admitted.

“You will undergo a blood test. That’s the price of admission,” the man announced after a quick glance at the entire group.

“We can do that,” Rick accepted, speaking for everyone.

After returning to the vehicles to gather their belongings, they followed Dr. Jenner to an elevator. Although it was tight, they all managed to fit in, with Glenn insisting on carrying your things so you could better manage Alice, who was starting to squirm in her carrier.

“Do doctors always go around armed like this?” Daryl asked, raising an eyebrow at seeing Dr. Jenner still holding his weapon.

“There were a lot of weapons lying around. I just familiarized myself with what was left,” Jenner replied with a calm smile. “But you all look harmless. Except you, Carl; I have to keep an eye on you,” he joked, playfully directing the comment at the boy in an attempt to ease the tension.

The group remained silent as the elevator descended, immersed in a heavy atmosphere. When it stopped, the doors opened to reveal a long hallway leading deeper into the CDC. Without saying a word, everyone began walking closely behind Dr. Jenner.

“Are we underground?” Carol asked, firmly holding her daughter to her side, her voice betraying some anxiety.

“Does it feel claustrophobic to you?” Jenner replied calmly, not turning to face her.

“A little,” Carol admitted, casting a glance around the narrow corridor.

“Try not to think about it,” Jenner suggested with a smile that didn’t quite reach his eyes. Then he raised his voice and gave an order: “Vi, turn on the lights in the room.”

Instantly, the lights came on, revealing a spacious room filled with computers and lab equipment. Murmurs of astonishment were inevitable as everyone surveyed their surroundings.

“Welcome to Zone 5,” Jenner announced, his tone not hiding a certain solemnity.

The surprise deepened when the doctor explained that he was the last one left in the facility. As he described “Vi” as an artificial intelligence assistant, he led them to a room with several chairs lined up and a desk in front of them. On the surface lay a couple of syringes and tubes of EDTA waiting. The time had come for the blood draw.

One by one, the group members took a seat for the procedure. When it was your turn with Alice, you approached cautiously, holding the little one tenderly.

“Please, be careful,” you warned Jenner, your voice firmer than you had intended. Your eyes fixated on the small needle he was holding, and although you trusted his skill, a mother’s anxiety never faded.

Jenner looked up, surprised by your intensity. “I will be,” he replied softly, a hint of respect in his gaze. His hand trembled slightly as he inserted the needle into Alice’s tiny arm, and she let out a sharp cry at the prick.

“Done,” he murmured, withdrawing the needle with the same care and applying a small bandage over the spot. Alice continued to cry, though more softly now, as you cradled her gently, trying to soothe her.

“It’s okay, it’s over,” you said softly, cradling her against your chest as her cries gradually subsided.

It had been a long time since you felt this sense of calm, one that seemed almost impossible in the world they now inhabited. Laughter echoed in the room, creating an unexpectedly warm and relaxed atmosphere as everyone gathered around the table, enjoying the dinner that Jenner had prepared for them.

You brought the glass of wine to your lips, savoring the deep, bitter flavors interwoven with a slight smoky note. You felt the warmth of the alcohol begin to relax you, blurring the tensions that had built up in your muscles. Occasionally, your hand brushed against Glenn’s, a subtle yet intimate gesture that was enough to bring a small spark of comfort amidst the uncertainty. His warm, slightly nervous fingers intertwined with yours for brief moments before releasing, as if the contact were too intense to prolong.

At the table, conversations flowed with an unusual lightness. The emotional fatigue from days of fear and exhaustion seemed to dissolve with each sip of wine and each shared laugh.

“In Italy, kids usually drink a little wine with their meals, and in France, it’s customary too,” Dale commented with a smile, pouring himself another glass while making the remark to Lori, who was watching Carl with a mix of concern and tenderness.

“Well, when Carl goes to France, he can have some,” Lori replied, throwing a sideways glance at her son, a gentle smile creeping onto her lips.

Rick, who had been silent until then, watched the interaction carefully before interjecting. “It won’t hurt him,” he said with a mix of softness and firmness, his voice laden with the intention to soothe Lori’s anxieties. “Come on,” he added, looking at her hesitantly, waiting for her approval.

Lori, after a brief moment of doubt, lifted her hand from Carl’s glass, giving the older man the go-ahead to pour a tiny amount of red wine into the boy’s cup. Carl accepted it with curiosity, but as soon as the liquid touched his palate, he made a clear grimace of disgust, prompting a new wave of laughter around the table.

“That’s the way to do it, champ,” Lori praised him, reclaiming the glass and passing it to her own drink while affectionately stroking her son’s hair.

“Better stick with the soda, buddy,” Shane joked, adding to the conversation with a conspiratorial smile.

However, attention quickly shifted when Daryl, in his usual direct and slightly mocking tone, abruptly interrupted. “Not you, Glenn,” he spat, drawing everyone’s gaze to the young man who, carefree, continued to enjoy a bottle of wine on his own.

“What?” Glenn replied, confused, raising an eyebrow and smiling absentmindedly. It was clear he was in a much more advanced state of intoxication than the others.

Daryl, enjoying the moment, watched him with a half-smile. “Keep drinking; I want to see how red your face gets,” he added, mischief in his tone.

The comment made the group laugh, but it was Carol who, with a playful laugh, made an observation that further fueled the atmosphere. “Then keep Y/N away from him; we don’t know if he’s turning red because of her or the alcohol.”

That sparked a collective burst of laughter that resonated through the room. Your cheeks immediately flushed, feeling the heat rise to your face as embarrassment enveloped you. You knew your expression wasn’t helping, and you could feel the blush spreading rapidly across your skin.

“She’s gone even redder,” Andrea pointed out amid laughter, while you tried to maintain your composure, though your own embarrassed smile betrayed your attempt at serenity.

“I think we haven’t properly thanked our host as he deserves,” Rick said, standing up and drawing everyone’s attention to him. He raised his glass, his eyes scanning the table before addressing Dr. Jenner with gratitude. “For your hospitality, and for giving us a safe place amidst all this.”

“It’s more than just our host,” T-Dog added, his tone a bit drawn out but sincere, raising his glass as well. A relaxed smile crossed his face as the words resonated in the room.

One by one, the others raised their glasses, following the toast and celebrating with a strange mix of joy and relief. Amidst laughter and conversations that began to fade into the drunkenness of the moment, you shifted your gaze to your lap, where Alice, curled up against you, was struggling to stay awake. Her little eyelids were slowly closing, and her head tilted further to one side, in a losing battle against sleep.

Tenderly, you adjusted her comfortably in your arms, making sure she was snug. You downed the last sip from your glass, the warm wine sliding down your throat, before carefully getting up, trying not to disturb the little one’s rest.

“Where are you going?” Lori asked, raising her voice to ensure you could hear her over the growing noise of conversations around the table.

“I have to put Alice to bed,” you replied in an equally loud tone, mimicking her volume so your answer wouldn’t get lost in the noise. You glanced at the little one in your arms, who now seemed completely asleep.

“Come on, stay a little longer, enjoy the night,” Andrea intervened with a broad smile, trying to persuade you to remain in the celebration a bit longer. “We don’t always have moments like this.”

You glanced briefly at the others, all lost in their own state of relaxation. While the idea of staying was tempting, a sense of responsibility made you shake your head gently. "Maybe later," you said with a smile, though the calmness in your voice made it clear that your priority at that moment was taking care of the little one in your arms.

"The rooms are over there; keep going straight, and you'll find the bathrooms," Jenner said, pointing down the hallway with a firm yet relaxed gesture. You nodded in thanks, silently bidding farewell before walking in the direction of the rooms. As you moved forward, the voices and laughter from the dining room gradually faded away, leaving behind a peace that, though fleeting, was deeply comforting amidst the constant tension.

Once in the room you had reserved for yourself and Alice, you decided to give the little one a quick shower. You carefully cleaned her up, ensuring she felt safe and comfortable. Afterwards, you gently tucked her into bed, her calm breathing indicating that she was already deeply asleep.

With Alice resting, you took your towel and headed to the empty showers, knowing it was one of the few moments you could allow yourself a breather. As you entered, the steam from the hot water filled the small space, and the sensation of relief was almost instantaneous. The warm water cascaded over your body, relaxing every tense muscle and washing away the dirt that seemed to have clung to your skin during days of exhaustion and stress.

You washed your hair meticulously, feeling the strands return to their soft and clean texture. As you scrubbed your skin, you noticed a fine layer of dirt coming off, as if each stroke of soap was taking away not only the grime but also a bit of the accumulated fatigue.

You turned off the shower but took a moment to enjoy the last drops of water slowly sliding down your skin. It was a small pleasure, a fleeting sensation of tranquility amidst the constant struggle. Finally, you wrapped your naked body in the towel, letting the warmth linger a little longer before dressing in a loose shirt and denim shorts. Your still-damp hair slightly soaked the fabric of your shirt as you headed back into the hallway.

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ashecampos · 10 months ago

Text

ANYONE BUT HER 3

JANIS IMI-IKE X FEM READER

Part one part two

Warnings - smoking, alcohol, drugs, swearing, cheating, mentions of anxiety.

The POV switches between reader and Janis (I use — when I change the POV)

there will be more parts to this, make sure to reblog and comment and I will get the next few parts up as soon as I can, happy reading lovelies 🫶🏼

“and where have you been?” My best friend Tess says while she sits on my bed, cross legged, her gym clothes still on. She smirks at me before throwing my pillow at me face, earning a groan from me. “Tee I feel like shit, no abusing ur token gay today please” I look over at her before falling next to her on my bed face first. “What’s wrong? Did Bea or Jason approach you again? Look when I come back to school tomorrow I’ll stick by your side to make sure they piss off yeah?” She states proudly.

Tess has been my best friend since middle school, we can’t actually remember how we became friends but our closest guess would be that we got sat together in some class, the rest is history. She got put into a different high school freshman year, however she is being transferred to Evanston for the rest of high school.

I lift up my head and smirk “oh yes my princess in shining armour please save me from this distressing part of my life” I say dramatically, rolling over to face her fully. She smiles back, shoving my shoulder a little laughing, her face lights up and she scoots forward a little “oh before I forget, this girl in my bookclub called Cady said we can sit with her and her friends at school, she’s really nice, and her friends sound amazing” she says while grabbing her tote bag off of the floor and pulling a book out, swatting me on the head with it “now read and we shall watch a movie of your choosing later” she hands me my book off of my cabinet.

——-

Cady walks into my basement where me and Damien are already sat down gossiping about todays events “hey guys where did you two disappear to earlier?” She says while plopping her backpack down and sitting on one of the beanbags. I look over to Damien begging him to not say anything, but let’s be real it’s Damien. “Damage control, little miss lover girl may or may not have overdosed a little” he says, earning a slap on the arm from me “for one” I look over to Cady pointing “she didn’t overdose, two she got spiked, three don’t call it damage control, im really worried about her” I say with a sad smile. Cadys phone pings a few times earning an ‘ooo’ from Damien, she picks it up and smiles “oh it’s my friend Tess, she’s just transferred to Evanston, I invited her to sit with us if that’s cool?” She says vibrating with excitement.

Great another new friend. Actually this might take my mind off of y/n, seeming though she hasn’t stopped ringing through my mind since that one gig.

—-

“Y/n/n. Wake uppppp” I am shook awake by Tess, “cmon we fell asleep” she says, my body jolts up, how did we fall asleep? What time is it? I look over at my alarmclock, it’s only 6am. Thankgod.

I roll over to face her and she smirks “hey do you have any clothes I can steal?” She laughs before getting up out of the bed and grabbing me by the ankle and pulling me with her to my closet. “Ugh fuck you and your strong rugby arms” I curse her out half asleep as im being dragged across my room.

I sit up and she is raiding my closet. Groaning I lay back down on the floor, she walks back to my bed, clothes in hand then back to my closet. I start laughing “you’re in the closet” I say squinting up at her with a smirk. She kicks my shoulder and throws some clothes on my head “cmon goofy, get your emo ass dressed” I stand up and we get changed.

Upon entering the school, Tessa is stared at by every man we walk by, we attend classes together, I thank every god in the sky that me and her have all of our classes together. The day is going smooth until third period art, we walk into the room, she is told to sit in front of me, that’s when Janis strides into the room, immediately noticing the blonde and freezing up.

The story is, Tess is Regina Georges cousin, she attended the same middle school, was indeed apart of the plastics. However Tess had no part of the downfall of Janis.

Tess turns around to me “is that?” She asks leaving the question open. “Mhm” I groan back to her. “As in your longtime crush Janis?” She mocks me, with a sweet smirk. I throw a pencil at her as Janis walks by, sits down next to us. “Hey Janis, y/n here has told me so much about you” she continues, making me regret being born. The class goes by, I end up drawing sketches of people in the class, while my dearest best friend talks to Janis, telling her embarrassing stories.

——

Walking into that art classroom was my worst mistake of the day so far. As soon as I walked through that door, I saw her. Tessa George, or as she goes by now Tess. You see the problem with Tess is that she is one of the kindest souls to walk the streets of suburban Illinois, however she is regrettably related to the one and only Regina George. In middle school, Tess was there for me when we were both plastic but when Regina ruined my life she was out of town and didn’t find out till I was long gone and expelled.

“Heyy Janis, y/n has told me so much about you” she says happily, meanwhile y/n groans a little and puts her face in her hands before slowly putting her head on her desk while Tess continues to talk about y/n, spilling secrets and telling stories. “Oh and then there was the time she tried to fight a man a foot taller than her when she was drunk” the blonde continues her rant. My eyes flicker from y/n to Tess, I never knew y/n was even friends with Tess, never mind best friends. Tess sounds really good for y/n. The bell chimes to indicate lunch has started, Tess grabs her phone and squeals causing y/n to roll her eyes, I try to ignore them, I start to pack up, grabbing my bag “Cady said meet her outside, she can’t wait to meet you” Tess said, grabbing y/n’s arm and dragging her out of the classroom. So Tess is cadys mysterious friend.

…

I walk to outside and find Damien, we end up sitting under our tree, I pull out my cross stitch and start sewing the rest of the eye I have been working on for this art contest. I hear leaves crunching and look up to see Cady, Tess and y/n walking over. “Oh my god, is that Tessa?” Damien starts to freak out. “Y/ns best friend Tess, Regina’s goddam cousin Tess?!” He exaggerates but shuts up just before they reach us. They all say hi and sit down. Y/n sits next to me, Tess and Cady sit on the other side of Damien.

“So Cady tell us about this Aaron dude you cannot shut up about” Tess says while nudging Cady. to this all of us snapped our heads toward her “Samuel’s Aaron Samuel’s?” Damien asks “oh no Cady no” I continue “are you unwell?” Damien leans forward. “Wait you like my brother?” Y/n speaks up making everyone stay quiet, I look over and she shakes her head “Cady in the nicest way possible be careful, things with him and Regina ended horribly, and I don’t want him to be hurt” she says protectively “well things ended horribly with you and Bea but I don’t see Aaron sticking up for you” Cady bites back. A few seconds go by in silence before y/n stands up “sorry I have to go grab my charger from the art classroom” she says, Damien and his quick thinking blurts out “Janis can go with you, she left her needles there” which makes me look over and mouth ‘what?’ To him.

Y/n starts to walk away not waiting for me, which would be my que to get up and follow her, I stumble up and run after her. We end up in the art classroom, she grabs her charger and turns to leave but I grab her arm. “Wha..” she starts to say “what’s going on with you?” I cut her off, she looks at me as if she’s trying to analyse me to see if she can trust me. “Nothing in fine” she shrugs “no no your not now tell me what the fuck is going on” I push further, walking to the door and locking it. I walk back to her and hug her. She stumbles back a little but regardless her arms wrap around my waist. “Sorry” she mumbles into my shoulder “maybe let’s try explaining our actions instead of apologising for them” I say while rubbing her back. “Jason got his friends and beat me up, I rely on drugs to cope, my brother is in love with the queen bee of the school. Everything hurts jan” she says while tears stream down her face. I pull away from the hug and wipe her eyes. “Okay so we keep you away from Jason, we find better ways to deal with pain and we ignore the fact Regina exists mh?” I push some hair out of her eyes. She stares up at me before stepping forward a little, wrapping her arms around my neck and pulling our faces together, she pulls me into a kiss. My fingers graze her hips and I use the loops of her belt to pull her closer to me. She starts to pull away to say something “this isn’t going to be awkward later right?” She questions, “no..I really don’t think so” I say pulling her in again, deepening the kiss.

——

(With Damien and the girls)

“So shall we talk about the elephant in the room?” Damien says as Janis and y/n walk away.

“What the fact that those two would make an adorable yet scary power couple?” Tess quips back to the boy, in return he clicks his fingers and points at her “truth” he says smirking.

“So how do we get them together because I know Janis is as stubborn as they come and y/n well y/n is just y/n” Damien laughs.

🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼🫶🏼

Heyyy my gayssss, I hope you liked this chapter, it is a bit happier than the last one. The next chapter should be up in a few days, thankyou for reading.

#reader insert #x y/n #mean girls #meangirls2024 #mean girls the musical #janis imike #janis x y/n #janis x reader #janis #janis imi'ike x reader #janis imi'ike #janis ian #damien hubbard #reader #wlw #Janis being adorable #enemies to lovers #friends to lovers #cady heron

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