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treeservicejacksontn · 2 months ago
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Reliable Storm Damage Tree Removal Tennessee | Jackson Tree Service
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After a major storm, the destruction that is left in its wake can be difficult to handle—especially as far as the trees in your yard are concerned. Avulsed trees and branches become dangerous and can be a nuisance to citizens since they bring with them potential injuries and property damage to houses, automobiles among other property. Which is why getting the professional storm damage tree removal services is important. As a company, Jackson Tree Service takes pride in its timely response and stress free storm damage service delivery so as to make your property secure again.
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The Urgency of Storm Damage Tree Removal
Severe storms in Tennessee can wreak havoc on your trees, creating dangerous situations. Overhanging branches or fallen trees can cause significant damage, especially if they fall on homes, block roads, damage cars, or disrupt utility lines. This is why storm damage tree removal Tennessee services are important after calamities such as storms have occurred.
Here are some common reasons why tree removal is necessary after a storm:
Fallen Trees: For instance if a tree has fallen as a result of a storm or lightning then that tree should be removed because it poses a great danger to property and people around.
Hanging Branches: In fact, large branches of the trees that are cracked or in a swinging position tend to fall at any one time and can therefore be dangerous.
Uprooted Trees: Living trees that have been partially pulled up and that are still leaning, for instance, mature or rotten trees, are likely to fall in the future.
Structural Damage: In storms, mature trees and their branches present a risk of collapse affecting overall stability of buildings, fences or other structures.
In such cases, professional tree removal services ensure that the affected trees are safely removed and disposed of, reducing risks and restoring order to your landscape.
Comprehensive Tree Removal Jackson TN
We offer tree removal in Jackson, TN which is one of your major services that are undertaken and supervised by certified arborists. Regardless of whether a tree has been downed by a storm or is considered a hazard to people or property, Jackson Tree Service is ready for all sizes of trees. We offer:
Safe and Efficient Removal: This team handles the chopping and evacuation of the trees in the safest manner so as to cause as little harm to other property as is possible. It is our policy to ensure the safety of you and your family and we do not clutter your home and landscape with these structures.
Debris Clean-Up: Upon completion of the removal, we guarantee that your property is free from debris thus have the yard of your desired appearance. With our service, the tree is cut and removed together with branches, twigs, and even leaves if any are remaining.
Emergency Tree Removal: Tornadoes for example can happen anytime and destroy property. That is why we professional provide emergency storm damage tree removal services for the time you ever need our services.
Stump Removal for a Complete Clean-Up
When storms occur, it doesn’t suffice to simply chop down the tree and clear away the debris. If they remain standing they become themselves dangerous as they might cause tripping over or might also cause damage to lawn mowers and aft equipment and they can also attract pest infestation. This is why stump grinding or removal is included as a service after they perform a storm damage tree removal.
We offer two types of stump removal services:
Stump Grinding: One can hire a professional to grind the stump to chips on the site which may be used as mulch in the garden. It is an environmentally friendly method of eradicating stumps that causes no harm to your yard and is affordable.
Stump Removal: For instance, total removal of stumps is required where there are intentions of planting new trees, erecting structures on that particular ground. We can remove the stump and its root system and leave the area empty for civilizing through other landscaping activities.
The Importance of Professional Tree Removal in Jackson County, GA
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Jackson Tree Service is based in Tennessee, but we work with clients in other states, such as Georgia. Storm damaged trees in Jackson County, GA need to be removed since the region is usually affected by storms frequently.
Storms can cause widespread damage to trees, and delaying removal can lead to further risks and problems:
Hazardous Conditions: Following a storm, fallen trees pose a threat that may cause harm by falling on anyone or anything around them.
Pest Infestation: Standing or fallen trees that are diseased or dead will also be a host to termites, ants, and beetles that may affect other trees or buildings.
Landscaping Damage: Sometimes trees can fall and damage gardens, fences or other structures in the landscape which means further costly expenses.
The use of professional tree removal services ensures that all dangerous trees are properly brought down and your property becomes secure again.
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glass-expanse · 2 years ago
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Content creation is SOOOOOOO overrated. I would 100000000% prefer working outside!
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centralfloridalanddemo · 23 days ago
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Website: https://www.floridalanddemo.com
Address: 704 S. Wabash ave Lakeland, FL 33815
Phone: +1 863-226-2264
Central Florida land clearing and demolition company. We can clean and remove anything anywhere in Florida.
Business mail: [email protected]
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chrisstumps05 · 2 months ago
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How two Guys did a Tree and Stump Removal Job
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miss-floral-thief · 6 months ago
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Hm I smell bbq
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ellecdc · 25 days ago
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I can’t find many fics with this…but would you maybe be willing to right poly marauders x werewolf reader?
Not in like a super angsty way. Maybe just like the morning after the full moon and Sirius and James are teasing reader and Remus because “you guys are like puppies chasing after bunnies.” Or maybe like prep for the moon and wow all the chocolate is gone it’s barely been a day.
I love this! thanks for the request, I hope I did it justice <3
poly!marauders x werewolf!reader post full-moon [836 words]
CW: fem!reader, post-moon care, werewolves being giant goofy baby dogs, James being doting, sirius being soft af [my kryptonite], Remus being stupid in love
His eyes - though obviously clear and clean of any blood, sweat, or debris - feel like they are crusted over. His chest feels like it’s being weighed down by a herd of erumpants. And his mouth tastes like acid and iron.
But the first thing from his mouth is the sound of your name as it rips through the sandpaper that's coating his throat, blindly feeling around on the bed whilst refusing to open his eyes. 
“Easy, Rem.” James whispers, and Remus can feel gentle fingers card through his hair. “She’s okay.”
“Where is she?” Remus croaks, still blindly searching for you even though it has become clear Remus won’t find you there.
“She’s right here, Moons.” He hears Sirius murmur, further from him than James is, which makes him too far away. 
Remus finally wrenches his eyes open and turns his head on his pillow, his neck cracking audibly as he finally spots the bed you’re situated in.
If Remus didn’t know better, he’d think it rather looked like Sirius was the one in the hospital wing; laying back on the bed, his head propped up comfortably on the stack of pillows meant for you whilst you were situated between his legs, your cheek smooshed up against his chest that rose and fell in time with his breathing. 
But Remus does know better.
“What’re you doing in her bed?” Remus grumbles, but the inflection is more a result of his current state and less to do with any real ire. He’d be lying if he didn’t admit how sweet a picture it painted; Sirius’ onyx hair fanned out against the white of the pillow cases, the sun warming a few strands ever so slightly causing them to appear a chocolatey brown as your breathing continued in perfect rhythm. You seem so content, so secure, so loved that even whilst unconscious, you lean into them with your full trust.
“Same thing Jamie’s doing in yours.” Sirius responds breezily around a yawn, and Remus looks up to notice that James is actually perched on the head of his bed looking down at him - like he hung, well, the moon - massaging at his scalp that Remus swore saw any residual tension seeping from his body with every stroke of James’ careful fingers. 
“She okay?” Remus asks then, letting his eyes fall closed as Sirius lets out a indignant scoff. 
“‘Course she is, we’re not new here.” He sneers playfully at Remus, pulling you closer to him by the shoulders when you shift in your sleep and brushes his hand up and down your back in broad strokes; Remus is sure it feels heavenly.
“We’re fine too, by the way.” James teases as he leans down to press a kiss to Remus’ forehead. “Not like we were the ones doing all the hard work last night or anything.”
“Hard work.” Remus snorts. “I’m sorry; did your bones bend and break, and did your skin stretch and snap twice?” 
“No…” James admits, though it’s Sirius who continues the banter. 
“We were just in charge of chasing two giant, hyperactive puppies through the forest all night.”
“We’re not puppies.”
“Yes you are.” Sirius laughs, though Remus can tell - for Sirius’ part - he’s working very hard to dim his brightness in an attempt to keep you sound and not wake you. It makes Remus’ heart swell. “Dolly’s afraid of her own sodding shadow and yelped at every snapping twig, requiring plenty of reassurance, and Moony spent about twenty minutes chasing his own tail before he fell head first into a tree when he got dizzy.” 
“That’s not true, is it?” Remus whispers to James who quickly offers him an apologetic smile.
“‘Fraid so, Moons. The two of you also had what I swore was a howling contest last night, too.”
“Oh my gods.” Sirius laughs as he recalls the memory. “Moony’s voice actually cracked like a teenage boy going through puberty, and Dolly’s voice was completely hoarse by the time we convinced the two of you to knock it off.”
“She’s not going to be able to speak more than a whisper for the next foreseeable future.” James adds, looking equal parts fond, exasperated, and sympathetic for you as they watch you push your face into Sirius’ chest. 
“We’ll make her tea.” Sirius declares, his own voice but a whisper as he holds you close, eyes far away as if he’s focusing especially hard on keeping you comfortable and sleeping soundly.
“With lots of honey.” Remus agrees quietly, smile growing when Sirius’ eyes meet his and crinkle in the corners.
“Pandora told me she has a recipe for lavender tea; could be nice to try after a moon, hm?” James offers.
“You’d probably like that too, hey Moons? Lavender tea.” Sirius asks. 
And Remus couldn’t deny that he would probably like just about anything so long as he was able to enjoy it with the three of you; pre- and post-moons, recovering in the hospital wing, watching paint dry, steeping tea…whatever.
 “Yeah, Pads.” He admits. “I think I would.”
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hagoftheholler · 2 months ago
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If you have plans to vacation in appalachia this autumn: no you don't. Not unless you're planning on helping the people rebuild.
"What about the money I spent reserving a rental house/hotel room/etc?" "I've been planning this vacation for months." "I want to see the pretty leafs change colors."
Don't care. If you can get a refund then fine, get a refund. There's a good chance that rental house you reserved doesn't exist anymore. There's a good chance that hotel you booked a room at won't have power for weeks.
Most of the towns popular for tourists are gone, wiped out. Major highways collpased. Bridges were taken by the rivers. People's homes are destroyed. The locals are struggling to resource food and water. People who need life saving medication are struggling to obtain it. Grocery stores in areas that managed to get by with minimal damage are being cleaned out. Locals are either panic buying to stock up their own shelves, or otherwise donating to help those who have literally nothing left. At this rate it's gonna be like covid grocery shopping again.
There are BODIES being resurfaced from mud, trees and debris every day.
Appalachia is in a crisis, as is most of the south now. We don't need tonedeaf tourists. We need people who want to help. The locals are working day and night to help their communities. If you want to come to help rebuild, then please come. Otherwise, stay away.
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mo0nfairy · 5 months ago
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ᥫ᭡ . # ۫ , ⸺ STREETS !
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summary :: over 20 years of kenji’s life has been spent preserving the surviving scraps of innocence from his childhood. since then, he has been desperately searching for anything to fill the rotten void in his chest. when a news reporter gives him everything he could ever ask for by merely existing, kenji fears the man he may become without them near.
word count :: 8.3k
content warnings :: mdni! yandere!kenji, obsessive!kenji, g/n reader, blood/violence, alcohol, stalking, drugging, kidnapping, nausea/sickness, mentions of sex, use of ‘daddy’ honorific (but nothing sexually explicit occurs).
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kenji sato's yandere traits are . . .
nurturing, heroic, & smothering
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──── Over the course of his childhood, Kenji possessed the same desires every child had. The same wishes he’d whisper to planes he mistook for shooting stars.
He remembers climbing the blunt limbs of the oak tree in his backyard, pretending to be a hawk and searching the grass for any delicious rodents to sink his claws into. He can still feel the dirt under his fingernails when he’d get lost in the woods, pretending to be a tiger and barring his teeth to any predators after his kin. His only worries would consist of his next meal and where he'll settle in for the night, instead of the loneliness that resided back home.
However, as all stories go, Kenji grew up. As the years passed, though, the more constricting his grip became on this childhood dream. For every candle Kenji blew out, he only wished to be one with the great outdoors and rid himself of the expectations shoved upon him. As any child innocently wanted.
Now in adulthood, every candlelight snuffed out was a silent plea for peace. And so desperately, he is trying to protect the bird nest he intricately crafted. Woven with strands of his young, raven-black hair, chunks of sidewalk chalk, tufts of fur of his favorite stuffed animals — every forgotten, sacred piece of his childhood that still remains unscathed.
Year after year, the relentless abuse of the world and his responsibilities reign down on him, prying their violent, eager fingers into his beloved bird nest. Today, Kenji holds whatever scraps still remain close to his chest, nestling them beneath a canopy of creativity and everlasting hope. Protecting whatever bits of innocence and childlike luster that survive the weight of the world.
When he pictured his father’s role of Ultraman as a child, he imagined perseverance and bravery. Now with that title bequeathed to him, Kenji is anything but. He is clumsy, reckless, and negligent. The very last thing he wishes to do now is follow his father’s footsteps, but alas, he has been given no choice.
The Neronga waltzes through the city streets, exuding chaos with every step it strides. Tossing around chunks of buildings and fistfuls of debris. And begrudgingly, Kenji trails after it like a parent trying to tame their exuberant child. 
A booming roar echoes from the beast's throat, angry bolts of electricity sparking from its horn. One swift punch to its jaw and the creature is out cold, leaving miles of destruction and disorder in its demise. With the threat neutralized, now comes the clean-up. He plucks citizens like they are tiny dolls and drops them to safety, who all thank him profusely for his aid. All except one.
Several bystanders crowd over a pile of rubble, waving their hands in an attempt at garnering the attention of Ultraman. 
“Yeah, yeah. I’m coming, I’m coming…” Kenji mutters, stepping over passing cars as though they’re scatterings of colorful legos. 
Piece by piece, he brushes past the lumps of bricks and metal. Disinterred from beneath the rubble is you. Hauntingly beautiful in your unconscious state. 
“Oh…” He exhales breathlessly, chest rising and falling with rapid pants. 
And there it is. 
That canopy of creativity enveloping him; that bird nest suddenly overflowing with rebirth and life. Everything bursts in colors so prismatic, Kenji finds himself at an impossible balance between feeling weakly heavy and ecstatically light. Never has his soul been so completely satiated before, even in the brightest days of his childhood.
Love, that’s what this must be! Love, warmth, happiness — every inkling of light this world has to offer! How could he ever feel dejected again with this angel now in his-? 
“Your heart rate is spiking.” That familiar, robotic voice interrupts. “You know what happens when Ultraman gets stressed.” 
Like clockwork, his color timer blares in distressful hues of light blue and sharp red. Though, how could Kenji possibly pay attention to such trivial matters when he’s holding you in his hands? How could he pay attention to anything else? 
Unfortunately for his sake, reality tears him away from his entranced state by brute forcd. A blinding flash of white permeates the street and in a blink, Kenji has returned to his normal self. He is back to being the notorious baseball player, worldwide heartthrob, and, most notably, smaller than his heroic alter ego.
When he shifts his gaze up, he finds you descending from the grasp he once held you in. Just like the fearless prince in every child's imagination, he scurries to catch you before you meet the unforgiving ground.
When his bare hands meet your skin, a gasp is yanked from his chest. His heart lurches, obtaining speeds he did not deem possible. Even sprinting from base to base did not garner this physical reaction out of him. You just feel so good against him, so perfect. Like the missing puzzle piece he’s been tearing apart the house looking for, now within its respected place. Bound to be cemented there forever – that sounds good to Kenji. 
“Ken, they can see you!” Mina’s frantic voice interrupts once again. 
When he pulls his vision from you, he finds a collage of people begin to surround the adjacent area. Their mere gaze threatens to jeopardize his identity once and forevermore.
“I’m sorry, ‘m so sorry, baby.” Kenji whispers into your ear.
Pressing a hard kiss to your cheekbone and relishing at the sensation of your skin beneath his lips, he reluctantly guides your limp body atop of the rubble. A few final caresses to your warm flesh and he is scurrying off into the night, completely inconsolable with these brand new emotions. New emotions he fears terribly, but has now clasped all coherent function in his body.
A single week had passed since the city's last Kaiju attack. These several days have proven to be nothing short of torturous for Kenji.
He has been rendered miserable after latching onto the light he’s been chasing for years, only to have it torn from his hands like candy from a baby. All because he’s been forced into a gig he never signed up for. Kenji has lost the love of his life and nothing can reprimand the grief it has left behind. 
Through extensive, but fruitless effort, he has assigned Mina the task of dissecting all of Japan in search of you. With only a description of your face, coated with dirt and blood, there is very little the efficient robot can do. And once again, his desires are left to collect dust in the hollow corners of his soul.
Kenji now resides in his ‘man-cave’, as he so confidently calls it. “Healthy body, healthy mind.” Mina teases, displaying the assortment of coconut water stacked in the fridge. With a sigh of defeat, he takes a resentful sip and cringes at the horrid taste. His efforts to stuff his face with junk food like some heartbroken blonde in a chick-flick were rejected by Mina, as she is always pushing him to pursue greater health. Waving his white flag, he asks for Mina to just turn the TV on, searching for anything to mend the pain poisoning his heart.
“Ken. I wonder if you might consider taking a break.” Mina confesses. 
He stares at the robot, searching her metal face for reasoning.
“From TV?” 
“From finding that citizen.”
His face scrunches in disdain. 
Quit you? Is she serious? How could he ever do that? Could he even survive such a predicament? 
“Give up the one thing that puts a smile on my face?” Kenji questions. “Sorry. No. TV, please.”
Some sincere praise from saved citizens will surely fill the hole in his chest, he assumes. Help him in his efforts to protect that bird nest he cradles close. 
The TV flickers to life and presents Channel 7 News, the place in which Kenji is featured most on. Seeing his most recent work with a bold “WOUNDED NERONGA AFTER ULTRAMAN EXIT” beneath the scene granted no surprise to him. 
What does stun him into a defying silence is when the screen shifts and your face fills up the expanse. Bandage on your scalp and microphone in your hand, you inform viewers at home of the recent neutralized threat and your new status here on the channel.
“Well, this has been quite the warm welcome! I’ve just arrived here in Japan and I’ve already been greeted by the Neronga, evident in this bandage on my noggin’.” 
The coconut water in his mouth spews out like a sprinkler when Kenji spits out the beverage. He chucks the open can across the room, ignoring the stain it will inevitably leave on his lavish carpets.
“That’s them! That’s them, that’s them, that’s them!” He exclaims to Mina. 
Shuffling off the couch, he crawls over to the television as though his legs had completely given out beneath him. His hand caresses the surface where your cheek is. 
“Sources tell us you were rescued by Ultraman himself!” A news anchor speaks. 
“Yes, that is true. Unfortunately, I was a bit too woozy to thank him properly, but he did save my life. It is heroic acts like Ultraman that help keep this city alive.” 
Unbeknownst to you, your words made a certain baseball player melt into putty. Hearing your praises, even when it is probably written on a script behind the camera, is nothing short of heavenly. 
The anchors, third-wheeling between two soulmates, continue to blabber about other fresh events taking place in Japan. Pressing languid kisses to the fuzzy static, all Kenji can listen to, all he can focus on, is you. Every twitch of your brow, every curve of your skin, every stretch in your smile — it all has him mesmerized. Like a siren lulling a fisher into the sea, where he would dive straight into oblivion had it been you in the deep waves.
“This was Y/N L/N with Channel 7 News.” 
Your name sits like honey on his tongue. Sickeningly sweet and absorbing of every word. 
“Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N, Y/N.” He repeats your name like a magic spell, almost as if you’d manifest into existence had he whispered it enough.
“Signing off.” 
The screen cuts and you vanish from the screen, overtaken by irritating advertisements. As though you were physically there with him, Kenji reaches for you. Desperate to bring you, his Y/N, back into his unwavering embrace.
Now, if there is anything renowned about Ken Sato, it is his charm, which also serves as his most powerful superpower. So, with enough flexes in the mirror to give himself a good ego boost, his “put a ring on Y/N’s finger” plan has now ensued in full effect. 
The foundation of this plan resides in who you are, what intricacies and threadings course through such a marvelous creature. He demands Mina, stronger than he ever has before, to learn every little detail there is to know about you. There cannot be a stone left unturned. Kenji needs to know everything. 
And every fragment of information she delivers to him binds his presumption furthermore: you two were made for each other. You’re like a page torn straight from an ancient fairytale. Crafted by God himself to hold his hand. He’s sunk his fingers into your background, your dreams, your hobbies, and he has nestled them all into his bird nest, entwined with the elements of himself. Bound to remain at one another’s side for eternity.
To enlighten you on these matters, however, Kenji has to find clarity through the whirlwind of emotions overpowering his senses. Then, he is positive he’ll be granted the ability to finally speak to you. However, the thought alone is enough to send a sun-hot shiver down his spine. He’ll need some thorough caresses to his ego before he can garner the confidence to merely stand in the same room as you.
It certainly does not help when everyday is spent battling the intense waves of euphoria, obsession, and of course, the suffocating guilt.
He left you behind. He abandoned the one thing that matters most to him and nothing can atone for this mistake. All because of Ultraman being most imperative, which Kenji had been force-fed to believe. Never again will he choose his occupation over you. Or anything, for that matter. You outweigh everything in terms of vital importance. 
He begins these efforts with baby-steps. To start, he assigns Mina to leave expensive gifts upon your bed. Bouquets of flowers, lush clothing, rich chocolates, luxurious jewelry, action figures and plushies galore! All you have to do is look at something in the store for more than a picosecond and it’s wrapped in a bow for you the following day. You also cannot forget the amount of times you’ve arrived home to find your favorite meals freshly made on the kitchen table.
In your overworked, lethargic brain, you assume everything is left by your sweet, elderly landlord who misses her grandkids and needs a fresh face to spoil rotten. You just choose to ignore how the gifts are impossibly far out of her budget.
Miles away from you, Kenji is tearing himself apart as he assumes your lack of recognition to be rejection. He knew he should’ve purchased those shoes in a different color! What was he thinking buying you roses instead of carnations, God, how cliché can he be!? 
He should’ve known you wouldn’t lend him your heart in return for his riches. You are not that foolish or shallow; you’re far more meticulous than the greedy pigs he’s so accustomed to feeding. 
Kenji will not claim defeat yet, though. He is never one to waver so easily, especially when it is you that is the golden prize. If he cannot flaunt his riches, why not himself? The richest item of all? And if his money cannot slither himself into your heart, he is positive it can push him in the intended direction. 
He’ll leave lumps of cash in the hands of massive corporations, all to cast his face wherever it can reach. On billboards, on buildings, on blimps — whatever place you may possibly be. Inevitably, you will have no choice but to see his gorgeous face and fall head over heels with him. The same way you so easily made him fall for you. 
Unfortunately, though, there are not enough cans of coconut water or buckets of chicken drumsticks in the world to bring you to his doorstep, there to fall into his arms and promise forever at his side. Kenji has failed in claiming your heart as his, once again, but another failure is not nearly enough to get him to welcome defeat. Not when it is you he is promised, never when it is you.
From here, he’ll pursue grander efforts. You’ll be occupied in the studio, skimming through your lines while makeup artists poke and prod at you. A squeal of excitement will permeate through the expanse, shouting out for a man by the name of Ken Sato.
Loud rumbles echo through the city streets as Kenji revs the engine to his motorcycle, complemented by his famous hair-flip and heart-throbbing wink. And feverishly, he scrutinizes every face behind the window, desperate to see those gorgeous features smile and melt at the sight of him. Then, he can spring straight into your studio, gather you in his arms, and race off into the sunset with you. Just like the fairytale dream you deserve. 
But alas, the universe refuses to give him such a privilege. You’re too engrossed with the tasks at hand, not some money-obsessed athlete who adorns the walls of teenage girls across Japan. 
If he could hear your assumptions, he’d assure you are sorely mistaken. Kenji doesn’t want the accolades, the riches, the fame. He just wants you. The one who showed him what it truly meant to be wild; the one who showed him what it truly meant to be free. So desperately, he wants you to know this, as well. To feel it with every beat your heart passes, to feel it imprinted in your skin with every kiss and caress he leaves. He could lose everything, just not you. God, not you. 
The man is speeding off with the pieces of his shattered heart before you can even process what had even occurred.
Kenji, once again, is met with another revelation. If it is not his name that can bring you into his embrace, then maybe it is his second self, the one you so wholeheartedly praise for his heroic acts.
Dressed in these ridiculous garbs, Ultraman leads danger towards your direction to “save” your life, all other innocent bystanders be damned. These efforts do not ever bridge on being dangerous. Merely a quick scare or two. And it definitely pays off, oh, does it pay off. Watching the fear in your eyes ease into relief at the sight of him never fails to get him numb with rapture.
“Fear not, citizen! Kenj- I mean, Ultraman will save you!” 
The last occasion he ever abused his role consisted of an orchestrated car accident. Nearly caught in the crossfire, you ever-so-gracefully dove away from the scene and skidded your knee in the process. A thundering “NO! BABY!” rings through the air. So absorbed in adrenaline, you do not even process the volume of the sound. 
What does grasp your attention is Ultraman taking you into his hand and lifting you far, far away from the ground. You ensnare yourself around his finger in response, clinging to him like a lifeline. Kenji melts from the action, as well as the underlying implications. You, relying on him, your silver-armored prince, for protection — that is everything he could ever wish for sat right in the palm of his hands. 
“Shh… It’s okay. You’re gonna be okay… Daddy’s here…” 
The words, shaky as they are, fall from his mouth like water through a cracked dam. It’s all just so easy, assuring you of his protection and comfort. The only way of preventing him from caring for you is to end his life. And Kenji has a lot of fight in him before he’ll allow himself to be separated from you.
You remain in his hands until an ambulance arrives. For the umpteenth time, he is forced to let go of you again. He cannot hide the perceptible agony it brings him to watch you rely on somebody else for aid. 
One day, it will be him, he assures himself. One day.
In the meantime, your rejection continues to take a heavy toll on him. Kenji is now famished without you, emaciated and starved to the bone. In some feeble attempt at satiating this hunger, he’ll try to find these fragments of you in others. He will drink himself ill then bring a blurry face to bed, all to shake the memory of you out of his head. These efforts, once more, only result in failure.
This time around, a harrowing guilt rots in his chest. There is no one else like you, he should’ve seen it clear as day. Kenji was a fool to ever think there could be. Now, he has cheated on the one who matters most to him. And there is nothing to placate the anguish he’s tormented by.
This perceptible ruination does not go unnoticed by journalists, either, who do not waste the opportunity of an eye-grabbing headline. Articles about him flood the web, detailing his miserable failures out on the field. Crawling to base seconds too late, sprinting directly into walls, and receiving more strikes than anyone can count — Kenji and the famous Sato name are falling apart by the seams.
He examines the glistening trophies and signed baseball cards in another attempt at protecting his ego and its butchered remains. None of it is enough, though. None of this success is notable without you at his side.
In a fit of rage, he throws his Giants helmet against the basement floors, landing with a harsh thud.
“They reject me? Ken Sato!? Best baseball player of all time!? The one and only Ultraman!?” 
His poor helmet is victim to his abuse, once more, as he leans all his might into a forceful kick. 
“Nobody can resist Ken Sato!” 
Another attempt at thrashing around in anger results in his knees buckling beneath him, sending his body to the cold ground. That was the final failure Kenji needed to break down into a sobbing fit. Head buried in his palms, he begs, pleads, for mercy. 
“I… I’m doing my best, okay? God!”
His body curls into itself, like pathetic prey trying to protect itself.
“I buy you everything you want, I save your life again and again, I-” 
Kenji cuts his tangent short by choking on a gagged cry. His fist clenches over his heart, overwhelmed from the sheer pain the organ is enduring. His chest stutters and twitches from the force of his blubbering. Globs of snot and spit gush across down his face, some clumps managing to pervade across his tongue.
“Ken? Are you crying?” A monotone voice speaks. 
“No! I’m… Not crying!” 
His coughing whimpers and wet face reveal the truth. Weakness is something he was taught to be ashamed of, after all. What kind of man would he be if he let himself crumble over such petty matters? Would you ever fall for him after witnessing such a dramatic sight?
“Want me to load up Y/N? That might make you feel better.” 
A few snivels through the silence and Kenji answers her. “Yeah… Yeah, I-I’d really like that…”
Maybe this is what he needs, just a few hits of his favorite drug to keep him in stable condition. Then, he’ll utilize the newfound strength to revive his honor, finally earning your affection in the end.
Pixels unfold in varying colors across the ground, spreading across the walls and ceiling like a reaching wave. The scene overtaking the basement now displays a romantic scene. Cherry blossom trees dance with the warm wind, petals drifting through the Spring air. A grand waterfall descends from a moss-covered mountain and leads to a river, where fish swim along with the stream. As he stands to his feet, Kenji finds himself at an arched bridge stretching over the river as the gentle melodies of nature sing around him.
When his gaze drifts around, he feels his heart practically plummet into the pit of his stomach when he sees you. Leaning over the wicker barrier and tossing out handfuls of kibble for the hungry fish.
Turning over your shoulder, you look up at Kenji with those glittering eyes, causing his breath to get caught in his throat. To make matters even worse for Kenji’s weak self, your face then breaks out into a candy-sweet smile. You are so innocently oblivious to how you’ve reduced his heart rate to an old engine, stuttering miserably. That smile could make even the devil repent, he’s sure of it. With luminosity like that, the greatest evils would have no choice but to succumb to their contrition.
Dusting your hands off, you frolic over to where Kenji stands. A lighthearted giggle escapes past your lips in the process, nearly bringing him to tears from how precious the sight is. Your hand slips into his and he might as well have crossed the pearly gates of heaven. Fuck, why hasn’t he made Mina do this before?
“Come on! Come feed the fishies with me!” You cheer in that captivating tone. That adoring voice could ask so sweetly for death and he’d deliver you buckets of blood. Just keep talking to him like that.
The impact you have on him is so immense, in fact, Kenji falls to his knees. The throbbing ache that his fall courses through his body might as well have been background noise, not when his senses are overwhelmed with how blissful your presence is.
His arms enclose around your legs, burying his face into your fuzzy sweater. With an amused hum, you sink your hands into his dark locks. The gesture makes him dizzy with elation. Spinning around the merry-go-round of devastating jubilation.
“Tell me you love me.” Kenji whines, his sensitive voice muffled against your stomach. 
With another giggle that squishes his gooey heart, you respond.
“I love you, Ken.” 
… Ken? 
No! No, you wouldn’t call him that! 
You’d call him Kenji, or better yet, you’d conjure up some adorable nickname in that witty head of yours. Anything but Ken; anything but what everyone else sees him as. 
And just like that, the fantastical facade shatters and reveals what really lies beneath. None of this is real. As much as he wishes it would be, as much as he’d throw away everything for you to be beside him in this moment, all of this is merely a figment of his imagination.
“No! You’re not real! Y/N- They would never-!”
The tears return and leave his body through broken wails. Once again, he has been forged into a mess of cracked hiccups and ground-shattering sobs.
His clenched fist meets the solid ground, piercing pain invading his entire arm from the impact. The punch was thrown far from where you stand. Even as a hologram, Kenji cannot bear to hurt you. He couldn’t wish violence upon you even if he wanted to. 
The dreamscape stood before him crumbles as quickly as it was formed. Darkness spreads once again and the romantic scene of cherry blossoms and fish kibble fades away. A physical manifestation of what he has become without you present.
Chasing after a sliver of your attention has now thrust Kenji into a staggering state of despair. His sob playlist shakes his house with its ear-splitting volumes, pushing more tears down his face while he stuffs his mouth with donuts. 
The weight of the pain pushes him toward drastic measures, as he is now a hollow shell of who he used to be. Measures he assured himself he would never come to, but has inevitably crashed landed in.
If you do not fall for his riches, his charm, his fame, then Kenji will just have to… “persuade” you towards that goal.
Cameras flash and flicker in his face as he charms his way through another press conference of millions. Only this time, he has ground-breaking news to share. 
“Fans have seen you blow supposed kisses to someone outside the venue. Is there a special someone in your life?” 
Directly across the field is your studio, but he will not tell others this fact. It is his duty to protect you, after all. But, scattering a few breadcrumbs won’t hurt anyone.
“Yes. Yes there is.”
The room erupts in hushed gasps and the rushed scribbling of pens. Another wave of questions tumbles toward Kenji’s way.
“They mean everything to me. I owe all my success to Y/- I mean, my baby.” 
A knowing smirk grows on his face. The Sherlock’s of the internet will surely connect the dots. Netizens will also fawn over how misty-eyed he became speaking of you, while others will rage in jealousy over their dream man falling for someone else. No matter what occurs, he will protect you during your sudden shift to fame. You have his word on that.
Days later, Kenji receives an email. And he almost considers admitting himself into a hospital for the near heart attack he receives upon reading it. 
Signed by none other than Y/N L/N, you ask him to meet with you in order to “clear the air” and “sort out this drama”. 
Several times, he scans the username to find some sort of fault, something that shows him it is just the works of an envious hater. However, his suspicions are never confirmed. The message is purely and undoubtedly you, no online troll or basement hologram in sight!
Without another second to waste, he responds to your email with a place and time, that being two hours from now. Kenji intends on fulfilling his role of the dashing boyfriend and to drive you there himself, flaunting his sumptuous motorcycle in the process. Mina, however, has since been programmed to detect every potential danger in your path, even something as minor as a crack in the pavement. When she displayed the graphic results of recent biking accidents, his heart lurched in his chest.
For now, he will simply have to meet you at the luxuriant restaurant he booked the best table for. In the future, he will convert to safer forms of transportation and your foot will never touch a pedal again. Not with your prince charming around.
Arriving an hour early, Kenji bursts through the bathroom doors and wipes the beads of sweat seeping down his face. All the makeup and detail he put into his appearance, all melted to a mess because of the anxiety you pump through his body. 
It is almost comical. He, Ken Sato, is nervous? He’s done the classic dinner-date over a zillion times, delivering his suggestive pick-up lines and swift winks. Staring at his exasperated face in the mirror, he is at a loss of where to go from here. What will he even say? What famous lines can he use? How can he give you his black card and a copy of his house key without you running away? 
Kenji finally sits down at the reserved table, located on a far balcony and looking over the grand city. His wristwatch blares red and presents the stack of missed calls from his dad, of which he willfully ignores. He went twenty years without his father and survived. Meanwhile, he went one week without you and thought he was on the cusp of death. He cannot bring himself to care about anything else. Not when he’s finally got a hook on you.
A waiter then asks him if he was feeling alright, concerned over the sight of his pale skin, shivering body, and twiddling thumbs. Kenji assures the man he is alright as he restlessly taps his foot, stalking the door ahead for the face he loves most to saunter through. The building could just about crumble to ash and he’d still sit here, waiting for your arrival.
And just like a movie, you pass the threshold and rob all the air from his lungs. 
You merely walk his way, but to him, you resembled a fawn frolicking through a green meadow, an angel wandering across roads of fluffy clouds. Those sporadic nerves die at the sight of you, rendering him to a melted pile of twitterpated nonsense. You tread closer and closer and closer and Kenji does not know how much more his body can handle before you completely dissolve him into a puddle.
“You have five minutes.” 
Your voice perfuses into his ears like birdsong, real and raw this time. That noise greeting him every morning is the only wish he’d ask from a magic genie. 
“Wh-Wh-?” He stutters like a lovesick loser, mentally slapping himself across the head for such a pathetic introduction.
“I said you have five minutes to explain yourself. Then, I will le-” 
“I love you.”
Surprise eases out your scrunched expression. You’ve never met this man before. Yet here he is, spewing out this gibberish. All of this has to be some form of joke, you assume. Where those irritating Youtube pranksters will sprint out from their hiding spots and shove their cameras in your face, cackling like hysterical hyenas.
“I am in love with you.” 
Maybe this is just his way of leading partners into bed with him. A powerful effort to add another name to his lengthy body count. And for whatever reason, he plans to jot down your name on that list.
“And you are worth more to me than anything.” 
You scrutinize his face for some inkling of rationality, something to explain what the fuck he means by that. Your efforts prove to be futile, as those teary, doe-eyes peer into your soul with nothing but sheer, unadulterated devotion. As though you were both fresh newlyweds enjoying the luxury of your honeymoon, complemented by the glimmer of your new wedding rings.
“Okay.” You swallow dryly, unease bleeding through your body. “You get another five minutes to explain yourself. On one condition.”
Kenji perks up at your proposition as though you had offered your hand in marriage. 
“Yes! Yes, whatever you want!” 
The man in question ponders over what riches you could ask him for and how elated he’d be to give you them. Taking you on shopping sprees and serving as your adoring husband, paying every penny and carrying your bags for you while you peruse to your liking. Just say the word, maybe flutter those pretty lashes, and he’ll personally deliver the very planet into your hands.
“I want you to leave me be.” 
If it weren’t for the fact this man was a complete stranger, you’d feel a sting of guilt over the perceptible emotion that washes over his face. Kenji anticipated the demand of clothes, foods, travel tickets, of which he would gleefully fulfill. Not this. Anything but this. 
“Alright, f-for how long? 10 minutes? 20?” 
“Forever.” 
You might as well have surged your fist into his chest cavity and torn his heart out, stomping out the ba-bump beneath the force of your boots. You might as well have climbed the tree behind his childhood home and ambushed his bird nest, tearing apart the array of twigs and squishing the healthy eggs. You might as well have just killed him right then and there, as nothing could pain him more than such a fate. Forever without the one he loves most is a life you couldn’t pay him to suffer through.
His bottom lip begins to tremble, stomach gurgling with nauseated shock. A few gags masked by coughs go unnoticed by you, as you could’ve sworn you saw a bright flash of white in the distance. Did someone… Take a picture? 
“... What’s wrong, baby? What are you looking at, huh?” 
Shifting your gaze back to Kenji, you find his features sheen with sweat and sickly-green from the queasiness you’ve forced upon him. What you especially notice is the accent of smugness beneath it all, etched into the smirk stretched across his lips.
Hushed whispers in the distance accelerate in volume, until the entire restaurant erupts in flashing lights.
Paparazzi!? What the fuck are they doing here!? 
Kenji leans back into the chair and slings an arm around the back post, seemingly posing for the photographers invading your conversation.
“Oh, no! We’ve been caught! The horror! Whatever will we do now that our secret is out…?”
If it weren’t for the sake of your career, you would’ve socked that smile clean off his face. Maybe even knock out a few teeth while you’re at it.
Critics have now officially cleared the name of Ken Sato due to his recent spike in excellent performance. Sports commentators even toss around jokes of how Sato’s new partner has knocked some sense into him.
Another game of hundreds and the cologne of arrogance around Kenji could suffocate the entire arena. A recent report detailed by you is casted on the billboard outside your studio. He blows yet another kiss your way as he jogs onto the field, ignoring the shouting fans who seethe with envy. He has made it official across the nation that his heart is sewn into your hands. And not even God could level the happiness coursing through his body. 
That is, until an uninvited visitor opens his mouth. The Swallows catcher begins to taunt him about his lover on the big screen, unaware of the lethal consequences it would harbor.
“You let the team hit, Sato? Shit, I might talk to coach about a transfer so I can get a piece of th-” 
The baseball bat in Kenji’s hands collides with his jaw before he can finish his sentence. 
Several more plunges into his skull and a swarm of teammates swarm around to break apart the scene. The crowd is alive with excited hollering, drowning out the noise of the blood-stained threats Kenji barks his way, strings of saliva spurting from his mouth like some feral mutt. 
The onslaught of players quickly, albeit with struggle, overpower him, successfully retrieving the weapon from his grasp. The edges of his manicured nails dig into the meat of his palms, forming maroon crescents in his flesh. Blind with rage, more threats that will surely put him behind bars are screeched into the air.
A few harsh yanks from the group of men and Kenji is finally pried from the catcher. He is dragged off the field past the rushing paramedics before he can fulfill his promises.
“And now it looks like there are words being exchanged between Sato and the Swallows catcher... Oh! Oh, no. We haven’t seen a brawl like this in a long time! Both benches have cleared. They’re throwing punches…” 
Soothing his sore muscles in an ice bath, Kenji watches the recording of his public meltdown with trepidation. Your eyes are not far and surely, you will bear witness to the violence his hands are capable of. He fears you daring to think he will treat you as such and his chest aches from the thought alone.
All he wants at this moment is to tear down the door to your apartment, take your precious face into his hands, and speak the utter truth as he assures you he will never bring harm to you. He’ll inform you of the context of the fight and what sparked such a reaction out of him. Then, you’ll thank him profusely for his heroic defense and drown him in your sugar-sweet kisses. Just like he has dreamt of every night, often waking up in the morning with his puckered lips against his knuckles.
Now, however, Kenji has surely destroyed any chances of gluing you to his side forever. You resent him for that stunt he pulled at dinner, and now, you are afraid of what he and his baseball bat may do. The ongoing success of Ken Sato has crashed and burned, resulting in the loss of what he cared for most.
“Ken!” Mina calls out to him. “I have something to show you!” 
Assuming it is another plan of millions to stamp the title of ‘lover’ all over you, he rushes out of the bath and throws his clothes on. Venturing into the basement, he is met with the very last thing he expected.
The containment unit has been raised. Inside is you, fast asleep with a bow on your head. Wearing just his jersey and holding onto a plushie designed after himself. 
“Surprise!”
Mina’s robotic arms stretch out, presenting the gift she captured retrieved for Kenji.
In addition to your permanent presence, the containment unit has been extensively decorated. The adornments are all pink and fluffy, like a cloud draped over a sunset. A circle-shaped bed is strung above the ground, supporting the weight of you and the mess of plushy comforters. It rocks you from side-to-side like a fussy baby who skipped out on naptime.
The scent of lavender pervading the air eases you into a deeper slumber. Tranquil white noise hums from the surrounding speakers, suffusing with the sounds of a light rainstorm. There are even holograms of shimmering stars and a full moon hovering over you, like some colossal mobile strung above a crib. Among the stars is a constellation, of some sort, that reads “Y/N SATO” in glittering letters.
And poor Kenji doesn’t know if he wants to beat Mina into shambles of wires or give her as many HTTP cookies her synthetic heart could ask for. For now, he is too woozy to make a coherent decision regarding her well-being. As he stated before, you always remain of utmost importance.
“My God…” He gasps out through stuttering breaths. 
His heart pounds so violently, he can barely hear the sound of his own voice over the persistent thumping. Kenji wobbles over to you as though he had just stood on his two legs for the very first time. He is almost positive there is a certain air suffusing from your body, entering his bloodstream and choking him with fervent stress. Every step forward renders his body weaker and weaker.
Images then begin to haunt his mind, preceding what may happen in minutes time. Kenji sees your weeping face, crying to release you from this bird cage. He can hear the thundering volume of your voice declaring you will never fall in love with him, how you’ll soon vanish and leave him to forever rot in solitude.
The emotions these thoughts garner stir in his gut like a meal that doesn’t agree with him. Gags poke and prod at his throat, threatening to release the butterflies fluttering around his stomach. A glob of bile then spurts from his mouth and splats against the floor. Kenji, horrified and sick with worry, races away from the scene before he spills his guts in front of you and humiliates himself even further.
What on Earth is he meant to do now?
When you finally awaken, you’re convinced you’ve been melted into jelly. Maybe even restrained in a tank of thick oil. Limbs weak at wet spaghetti, you cling to any fragments of energy in your system as you try and discern your environment. 
“Well, look who woke up!” A female voice greets you. “Do you want to see daddy?” 
Something globe-shaped hovers around the barrier you’ve been ensnared in. If it weren’t for your groggy state, you’d verify it to be a robot and not a talking basketball. 
“’Daddy’? What the hell are you talking about?” Your confused voice protrudes broken and sluggish, still stained with the sleep you’ve just woken from. 
A screen forms above you and before your distorted vision, you find the very last sight you wished to see. Ken Sato, your own personal parasite, sits stiff in the living room just upstairs. Bouncing his leg in an anxious rhythm, he seems to be engrossed by a video on his laptop. As you listen further, the contents become more distinguishable.
“When the moment is right, lean into your partner slowly and tilt your head to avoid bumping noses.” 
The robot clears her throat in an attempt at grasping his attention, but fails to do so.
“Close your eyes and let your lips connect naturally. Match the pattern of your partner to-” 
Another noise of acknowledgment from the robot and Kenji’s attention is finally held. Barely, that is.
“What, Mina?” He answers curtly, eyes refusing to part from the information he is currently absorbing.
“Someone is waiting for you down here.”
In all the years you’ve lived on this planet, you don’t think you’ve ever seen someone move so fast before. Not only did Mina’s words arouse a visceral reaction out of Kenji, but they practically shoved him off the couch from the sheer force of her insinuations. His foot even gets caught behind a chair leg and causes him to land splat on his face, but this is not nearly enough to deter his acceleration. 
The screen you were studying then folds into itself as an elevator descends from above. Through the cyan, blurred exterior, you see the frame of no other than Ken Sato. The doors open a mere inch before the man in question is squishing himself through the tight space. Always the acrobat he is, he gracefully trips onto his face, once again, before clumsily scrambling to his feet.
Now, you’re given the ability to absorb his appearance. Messy locks of black hair lack their normal gelled accentuation. Dark eyes are blown wide as though he were some feral animal. Tan arms are covered in red scratches from the relentless, anxious scratching he abused his flesh with.
The bold ‘ICON’ on his shirt mocks you. Is that what he is? Is that what he expects you to perceive him as? Would an ‘icon’ do such a thing like this?
You ponder over how much time has passed since you’ve been brought into this horrid basement, how much time has passed before friends and family have deemed you missing.
Kenji knows the answer to your questions. It had only been a day; twenty-four full hours of crazed, restless worry. He even skipped out on the championship for this moment, just to ensure you remained safe in the basement. He trusts Mina, of course, but he cannot rely on her to restrain you. The grasp he has on you is dangling by a thread, worn thin by his own stupid antics from before. 
He knows now that if you were to take one step out the door, you’ll be gone forever. And Kenji will die before he allows that to happen. 
Meanwhile, you’re still trying to garner pieces of your memory together. After returning to your apartment from a hectic day at the studio, you allowed yourself to indulge in the hot meals always waiting for you at your kitchen table. Normally, you’d chuck them in the garbage out of distrust. Tonight, however, you were so overwhelmed with lethargy, you couldn’t conjure enough energy to cook yourself a meal. So, the magic dinner-fairy would receive your blessing in the meantime.
One bite in and you were out like a light, oblivious to what exactly is waiting for you once you wake.
What was waiting for you now dashes toward the edge of your dog kennel, as you’d describe it. Kenji places a hand to the surface and his forehead lands against the wall with a light thud. His quickened, gasping breaths fog the glass. He does not leave even a centimeter between himself and the barrier separating both of you. The legs that have scored him more wins for the Giants than any other played in history suddenly grow weak, trembling as they try to support his weight. 
Kenji’s half-lidded gaze is devoted to you only. A curl forms between his brows from the fervency of his emotions the longer he stares. His cheeks go red as two ripe cherries while he just stands and watches, all dewy-faced and blushing.
“Lower the containment unit.” He pants breathlessly, the sheer tone of love drooping from every syllable that parts from his mouth. Like pockets of honey seeping from a honeycomb. 
“Ken. That might be a bad idea. We cannot anticipate how they will react.” 
He presses lazy kisses against the glass as her words go through one ear and out the other. Ignoring her warning, he assures her of these concerns.
“I got ‘em, I got ‘em… My baby…”
To your horror, the walls plummet and grant this monster full access to where you lie. Kenji collapses, again, not realizing he had been leaning his full weight against the walls of the containment unit. This sudden intrusion causes you to flinch and you crawl away from him, attempting to shield yourself beneath the thick covers. 
Body shivering with feverish need, his hand grasps onto the corner of the mattress to stabilize himself. Mere inches away from your foot. His chin lifts to look your way, his eyes only needing to bathe in the sight of you forever. Within his irises, you find swirling pools of darkness illuminated by specks of glitter. Sparkling for you and you alone. 
A smile pokes at Kenji’s lips, bright and formidable, before he addresses your sour expression. 
“Aww, why the long-face? Is my baby hungry, maybe?” 
At the foot of the bed, a fraction of the floor folds open and rises a platter. On this platter is an array of all your favorite foods. Snacks, candies, sodas, juices, whatever your heart could possibly desire. Mina has correlated an all-you-can-eat buffet just for you. Similar to the dishes left for you back in your apartment.
As it spins, displaying every inch and corner of its delicious offerings, you curl further into yourself. You do not want nourishment, you want to leave! To part from this maniac and never hear of his name again! 
With your refusal to eat, Kenji determines the reason behind your dismay to be because of him. Or, in his egotistical brain, the lack of him. The works of an absurdly large ego, you’d surmise. 
“Do you… Do you need… Me?” The hope in his voice is akin to a child in disbelief over receiving surprise tickets to Disneyland.
And Kenji just melts from how gut-wrenchingly adorable you are. By simply existing, you’re yanking at his heartstrings like a puppeteer, guiding him further and further towards the edge of sanity. With eyes peering up at him like that, he’ll welcome the predicament warmly.
“Oh… I’m right here, baby. Daddy won’t leave you.” He coos in your ear, the warm cadence practically oozing into your brain. 
Still overwhelmed with exhaustion, you do not have a morsel of strength left in your body to fight off his affections. Despite how desperately you wish to. Instead, you have to remain pliant as Kenji guides you onto your back, soothing and shushing you as you sink further into the plush surface.
Tearing his shirt from his body, the loss of the ‘icon’ status, he crawls beneath the opulent covers with you. His arm snakes around your waist, while the other cradles your cheek. Hands shuddering and heart pattering as he presses himself against your back, he wonders how he had not simply died right in this moment. You’re too perfect. It’s too much for his poor heart to take. Cupid may as well have discarded the pink-hued arrows and plunged a knife straight into his chest.
Kenji leaves an array of kisses on the back of your neck as you drift back into a tranquil slumber. All those wishes he set on shooting stars have finally returned and placed you directly in his beloved bird nest. All to stay at his side forever.
All to never leave.
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⁺ 🎧 , 🪷 you are currently listening to . . . ⁺ 🪺 , 🎵 ꪆ
❝ WHY CAN'T I FIND
NO ONE LIKE YOU . . . ? ❞
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honeylations · 5 months ago
Text
YU JIMIN x FEM!READER
Prompt: You’ve dreamt of dating a cool, hot, sexy vampire, but why did the world decide to give you the biggest loser vampire?
Warnings/Notes: g!p Vampire Jimin, crack, eventual smut, loser Jimin, human reader, mommy kink, subby Jimin
It was 7am in the morning when you woke up to your alarm blaring in your ears, encouraging you to open your tired eyes. Sitting up, you saw your vampire girlfriend sitting cross legged by the edge while staring at you with a pout.
Right, you were angry at her for the stunt she pulled yesterday.
She baked you cookies as a reward for getting through your exams but your roommate, Huh Yunjin, ate it all like the fatass she was. Yunjin didn’t know they were for you but it didn’t stop the anger boiling within Jimin as she dragged your red headed friend to the backyard of the house and tied her to a tree with debris sitting beneath her feet.
Jimin said that in the vampire realm, anyone who stole another’s belongings were to be punished by being burnt alive.
You remember returning home that day from a lecture the moment Jimin struck the match, screaming at the top of your lungs for her to stop whatever she was starting.
Then remembering her sulking face and how she cleaned up her mess with pure sadness and fear after being scolded by you.
You haven’t acknowledged her presence since and Jimin has been trying to do everything she can to have you talk to her again.
“Good morning love!” Jimin beamed and puckering her lips for her good morning kiss but you stood up from the bed, completely ignoring her so you can wash up in the bathroom.
The vampire flopped face first into the bed and whined.
Yunjin heard the commotion and peeped through the door with crossed arms. “She’s still mad at you?”
“Yes and it’s all your fault!” Jimin’s loud voice was muffled from the mattress she was squishing her face in.
Yunjin caught the words though. “How was I supposed to know they were for your girlfriend?! How about put a note next time!”
“How about have some common human decency and ask before shoving everything in your mouth?! You mortals are dumber than rats!” Jimin finally sat up.
“Your cookies were shit anyways!”
“Shitty cookies that you entirely ate, FATASS!”
You appeared from the bathroom with frustration. “SHUT UP BOTH OF YOU!”
Both girls immediately shut their mouths, but Jimin continued on to flop her face back into the mattress to cry like a dying whale.
“Oh god, Jimin Unnie don’t cry” Yunjin sighed.
“Go sit in the corner Jimin. And think about what you did yesterday and why it was wrong for you to even try and burn Yunjin alive” You ordered, arms crossed over your chest.
Jimin shuffled out of the bed and obeyed. She dragged herself to the corner of your shared bedroom and sat down, leaning her forehead against the wall.
“And stay there until I say so”
“Yes ma’am” Jimin managed to squeak out.
The vampire pouted and played with her fingers to pass the time while you went out to your full day lecture on campus with Yunjin.
As you two walked down the halls, Yunjin turned to look at you. “Y/n, I know it was a scary situation but Jimin Unnie means well. She already apologised…well I mean because you forced her to but anyways, I forgive her and you can stop being mad at her now”
“I’m not letting it slide that easy Jen. She needs to reflect on her behaviour”
“Maybe you’re being a bit too harsh on her”
“You want to be sitting in the corner with her then?”
“I shall close my mouth and never speak again”
Yunjin’s words did echo in your mind throughout the day, making you reconsider the way you were treating your girlfriend at the moment.
You had to remind yourself that all Jimin wanted was to make you cookies but she let anger take over her decisions in the wrong way.
The thought got you dozing off during lectures, at lunch, and even as you were walking out of the campus with Yunjin still by your side.
“Stopped being mad at Jimin Unnie yet?”
You groaned into your palms. “I’m a horrible girlfriend”
“What? Hey no! What made you even come to that conclusion. Jimin Unnie thinks you put the stars in the sky!”
“I should’ve just talked it out with her instead of giving her the cold shoulder. She must think I hate her or something”
Yunjin grabbed you by the shoulders and shook you around. “Y/n please shut up. You managed to pull a vampire that wanted to kill every human she saw in the first place. Now all that vampire wants is to be by your side forever to love and protect you! I’m damn jealous about your wattpad life right now”
“I’m gonna ignore the wattpad thing you said”
“Apart from almost burning me alive, Jimin Unnie is one hell of a loser too. She’d do anything to make you happy even if it meant jumping off a cliff”
“Don’t say stuff like that around her please, she’ll literally do it” you face palmed after a memory flashed in your mind of Jimin almost throwing herself in front of a train just to prove she loved you.
“Now why don’t we put the past behind us and get your girlfriend bags of blood as an apology? I’m pretty sure she’d be hungry by now. You left her in the corner since this morning”
You froze on the spot and looked up at Yunjin wide eyed. It didn’t take a couple seconds for the red head’s eyes to match yours before you both started sprinting back to the house.
“We’re so dumb!”
Barging into the front door, you made your way upstairs to your bedroom and saw your girlfriend still sitting in the exact same position from when you left her. Setting your bag to the side, you hugged her from behind and took in a big whiff of her scent.
“Oh my baby, I’m so sorry for leaving you here”
Jimin turned around and buried her face into your chest. “Are you still angry at me?”
“No not anymore baby” you cooed, comfortably threading your fingers through her black locks.
“Are we going to be okay?”
You kissed her head. “Absolutely. Always”
“Do you still love me?”
“Yes of course! I’ve never stopped loving you, Jimin-ah”
You cupped your girlfriend’s face and repeatedly kissed all over it until she was covered in lipstick marks. Then you led her to cuddle with you in bed, letting her rest her entire body on top of yours.
She snuggled her head into your neck. “I’m still a little sad about the cookies, my love”
“I know, I’m sorry Yunjin ate them. Thank you for making it though”
“You studied so hard for the exams…I wanted to impress you”
Your heart was aching. How could you have yelled at your dork?
“Let me make it up to you, okay?”
Jimin was about to question you but you had already moved her to lay on the bed while you straddled her lap.
“Yunjin can you go buy some blood bags for Jimin?!” You yelled loud enough for your roommate to hear.
“On it! Be back in a bit!” Yunjin quickly answered from her own room, hearing her footsteps fade until she shut the front door and fully left the house.
“That should buy us enough time—“
A notification rung from your phone. You took a glance at the Lock Screen and saw a message from Yunjin which got you a bit confused until you read what she had sent.
[Yunjinnie 🐍: I already know where this is going. Enjoy that 7 inch vampire sausage]
“Fucking sick ass” you muttered, not noticing your girlfriend was looking at your phone too.
“Tell her I’m 7 and a half inches, babe. Not just 7”
You shook your head and softly kissed her. “Don’t worry about Yunjin, she’s a shit head”
“I’ve already established that when she ate your cookies”
Your girlfriend’s frown got you chuckling. “You’re still on about that? Don’t worry, we’ll bake them together someday. But for now, just sit back and relax. Can you do that for me?”
“Mhm yes ma’am”
You pulled your girlfriend pants and boxers slightly down just so you can whip out her cock and stroke it while staring into your girlfriend’s eyes. “Good?”
“M-Mhm…” Jimin hummed.
She bit on her bottom lip, clawing at the sheets when you sped up your hand fisted around her dick. “N-Not enough…can I please have it inside you, Y/nie? Please…” Jimin’s words came out breathlessly, trying her absolute best to look into your eyes but the pleasurable feeling was making it difficult.
“Such a good girl for saying please” you smirked that got Jimin dizzy.
“Please…I don’t wanna cum unless it’s inside you m-mommy”
You were taken back from the nickname even though your hand was still jerking her off crazily. God, your vampire really was a loser.
Instead of answering, you sloppily made out with the vampire, only breaking apart so you can strip yourself out of your clothes.
In a blink you were hovering your wet opening above Jimin’s hard cock, feeling like you were being torn in half when you sat on the tip. The pain gradually got worse when you were fully seated, head resting on Jimin’s chest whereas your hands were holding onto her shoulders for dear life.
“Ah w-what the fuck? H-Hurts so much” you sniffled as Jimin rubbed your back.
“It’s been so long since we made love, Y/n-ie. Don’t rush yourself okay?”
“I liked it when you called me mommy” you managed to giggle through the pain.
“Take your time mommy”
Jimin was so patient with you just sitting on her dick for a few minutes so your pussy could accomodate her size. It felt like you were having sex for the first time. Your girlfriend continued to kiss your neck even when you finally had the energy to move up and then sliding back down with an electrifying pleasure coursing through your body.
“O-Oh…Jimin you feel so good inside me”
“I wanna make mommy feel good”
“You are baby. Being a good girl for mommy” you gasped with an arched back.
Jimin took this as an advantage to suck on your tits like she’s been starved. Well she technically did kind of starve today when you made her sit in that corner and completely forgot about her.
“Fuck…mommy…my love..Can I fuck you? Don’t want you to get tired”
Oh your loser vampire girlfriend was such a gentlewoman. Who were you to say no?
Jimin leaned back with her feet planted flat on the bed so she could thrust her hips up in a fast motion that got you bouncing. Your moving tits got Jimin lost in a trance and she couldn’t help on sucking them again.
She was watching you throw your head back in pure bliss, mouth dropped open releasing Jimin’s favourite sounds. “Can I cum inside mommy please?”
“Y-Yes please baby. I want it all—Oh shit!”
Jimin was literally jack hammering inside you with that crazy vampire stamina she had. The pleasure was so overwhelming that you didn’t catch the way your girlfriend’s eyes began to turn red and were fixated on your exposed hickey-covered neck.
Her mouth began to open and her fangs were presented.
“M-Mommy…I-I really need your blood. C-Can I bite? I’ll make it better afterwards, I promise”
Hearing Jimin beg sent you over the edge. You held one hand on her nape and pushed her face into your neck. “Fuck yes! Bite mommy, baby. Drink my blood and fuck my pussy like a good girl!”
Jimin growled and didn’t need to be told twice in sinking her teeth into your neck. She moaned along with you as your blood flowed into her mouth deliciously. You clenched around her twitching cock and dug your nails into her shoulders when the hot ropes of cum filled you up.
You were creaming all over dick that it rained down her pelvis.
Your girlfriend pulled away as the orgasm died down, licking up the mess on your neck and finishing it off with a gentle kiss on the fang marks.
You fell limp into her body to catch your breath and Jimin’s hand was caressing your back again. “Are you okay, my love?”
“Better than okay, Jiminie…”
“Did it feel good?”
“The best, baby”
“Yay”
You pulled back and looked at her face in disbelief. “Yay?”
Jimin looked down sheepishly. “I’m glad I made you feel good, baby. I love you”
“Yunjin was right. You’re a loser stuck in a hot vampire body”
The vampire’s eyes went into puppy mode at your statement. “Am I your loser at least?”
“My one and only loser” you laughed and leaned in to claim her lips once again, getting a slight taste of your blood.
*Knock Knock*
“Heyyyy sorry to be like…interrupting, but I got the blood bags. I’m assuming you’re not hungry anymore Jimin Unnie” Yunjin spoke from outside the room, her voice slightly muffled.
Even with the door blocking you from seeing Yunjin, you can already see the smirk plastered on her stupid face.
“Nope”
“Rightio. They’ll be in the fridge. Hope you take that pill Y/n! You two are too young to be parents”
“Jimin is 600 years old”
“Yeah I’m 600 years old”
“And even if we did become parents, we’d be the best parents ever”
“Yeah, the best parents ever!”
“Yeah I didn’t ask. I’m not letting my best friend become a mom while she can barely pay her rent”
“oh fuck off Yunjin!” You screamed while Yunjin shrugged and indeed fuck off to her room.
774 notes · View notes
lila-lou · 28 days ago
Text
✨Houston - Pt. 2/2✨
Summary: While Jensen was away filming, a hurricane hit and you had to face it alone, burdened by a secret. When Jensen finally returned, relief and fear collided as you shared the news.
-requested-
Pairing: Jensen x Reader
Warnings: Language, ANGST, Fluff
Word Count: 5722
A/N: No hate towards anybody. It's just fiction.
English isn’t my first language, please be lenient. 🩷
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Meanwhile, Jensen sat in the plane, his leg bouncing nervously as he stared out the window. He had barely slept since hearing about the hurricane, his mind consumed with worry about you. The relief he had felt when his flight finally boarded was fleeting—now, all he could think about was getting to you. He needed to see for himself that you were okay, that the house had held up, and that you hadn’t been hurt during the storm.
The flight had seemed to drag on forever, and now, as the taxi slowly made its way through the neighborhood, his stomach churned at the sight before him. Chaos. Pure chaos. The remnants of the storm were everywhere—trees uprooted, power lines down, debris scattered across the streets. The taxi driver struggled to navigate through the mess, constantly having to stop and weave around fallen branches and debris.
Jensen stared out the window, his heart sinking further with every turn. The fire department was out in full force, and neighbors were already outside, doing their best to clean up the damage. But the destruction was impossible to ignore. Several houses looked like they had taken a beating—older homes missing porches, shattered windows, even one house that had its roof torn away by the storm. Cars had been flipped or smashed by falling trees, some nearly unrecognizable.
Jensen clenched his jaw as the car crept closer to home, his heart pounding harder with every piece of damage he saw. This was exactly what he had feared, what had kept him up all night. The thought of you being in the middle of this, alone, terrified, made him sick with guilt. He had brushed it off as “just a little rain”, and now he was driving through what looked like a war zone.
But as the taxi turned down your street, his eyes went straight to your house. Relief washed over him as he saw it still standing, mostly untouched, aside from some debris scattered across the yard. The house, which had been renovated just a couple of years ago, looked sturdy—massive stilts holding it high above the ground, windows intact, the roof still in place. You had insisted on the renovations, on making the house as secure as possible. He had thought it was a bit overboard at the time, but now, looking at the destruction around him, he was beyond grateful that you had been so insistent.
The taxi came to a stop just down the street, unable to drive any closer due to the debris blocking the way. Jensen paid the driver quickly and practically jumped out of the car, his feet crunching on the broken branches and debris as he hurried toward the house. His heart was racing as he climbed the steps to the porch, which, to his relief, was still intact, though bits of leaves and broken tree branches littered it.
“Please be okay”, he whispered to himself, fumbling for his keys with shaking hands. He unlocked the door and pushed it open, the silence inside the house overwhelming after the storm he had driven through.
“Babe?”, he called out, his voice tight with worry. The house was still kinda dark, the power clearly not restored yet, but it was eerily quiet compared to the chaos outside. He dropped his bags by the door and immediately started toward the guest room where he hoped you had taken refuge.
When he pushed open the door, his breath caught in his throat. There you were, curled up on the bed, wrapped in the blanket, fast asleep. The sight of you, safe and sound, made his chest tighten with emotion. Relief hit him hard, so much so that his knees almost buckled.
Jensen walked slowly toward the bed, careful not to wake you just yet. He could see the tear stains on your cheeks, the exhaustion written all over your face. You had been through hell last night, and he hadn’t been there for you. The guilt settled in deep, but right now, all that mattered was that you were okay.
He knelt down beside the bed, reaching out to gently brush a lock of hair from your face. His fingers were trembling slightly, but he just needed to touch you, to reassure himself that you were real, that you were safe.
“I’m so sorry”, he whispered, his voice thick with emotion as he watched you sleep. He had been so wrong. So, so wrong. And now, seeing you like this—vulnerable, curled up in the middle of the storm’s aftermath—he promised himself he would never brush off your fears again.
For now, he was just grateful that you were here, safe.
Jensen had just begun to stand, moving as quietly as possible, not wanting to disturb you after the hellish night you’d just had. But as he shifted to leave, your eyes suddenly snapped open, wide and full of alarm. You blinked quickly, disoriented, your heart instantly racing as you jolted upright, still tangled in the blanket. For a moment, you didn’t know where you were, the remnants of the storm and the hours of restless fear swirling in your mind.
“Jensen?”. Your voice was barely above a whisper, laced with confusion and exhaustion. The sight of him standing there, in your room, felt surreal—like a dream you weren’t sure you believed yet.
Jensen froze, his eyes locking onto yours, and you could see the mixture of relief and guilt swimming in his gaze. He knelt back down beside the bed, his hand immediately reaching out to touch your arm, his thumb brushing your skin in gentle reassurance.
“Hey, it’s me”, he said softly, his voice thick with emotion. “I didn’t mean to wake you”.
You blinked again, tears instantly welling in your eyes as everything from the past night rushed back to you. The storm, the fear, the feeling of being so utterly alone… and now, seeing him here, in front of you, after all of it—it was too much. Without thinking, you threw your arms around him, pulling him close, needing to feel the solid warmth of him. Your body trembled against his, and you felt his arms tighten around you, pulling you into the kind of embrace that made everything else melt away.
"I missed you”, you whispered, your voice trembling as you pressed your face into his shoulder. The warmth of him, the familiarity, the safety—everything you had been craving through the terrifying hours of the storm—was finally here. You held him tighter, your arms wrapped around his neck, refusing to let go as if he might disappear again.
Jensen’s arms wrapped around you securely, his body shifting as he slowly sat down on the floor with you, cradling you in his lap. His legs stretched out underneath you as he leaned back against the wall, pulling you closer to him. He ran a hand gently through your hair, his other arm firmly around your waist, holding you as if he could shield you from everything you had been through.
“I missed you too”, he murmured softly against your hair. His voice was thick with emotion, the weight of his guilt still lingering in his words. “I’m so sorry I wasn’t here”.
You shook your head, not ready to let go of him or the comfort of this moment. “It’s okay… you’re here now”, you whispered, trying to keep your voice steady, though the tremor of relief and lingering fear was still there.
He held you tighter, his breath warm against the top of your head.
You stayed like that for quite a while, wrapped up in the warmth of his embrace. His hand moved rhythmically through your hair, and you let yourself relax into him, feeling the tightness in your chest finally start to ease. It was the first time in hours that you felt safe, like you could finally breathe.
But even though the storm outside had passed, the one inside you hadn’t. The weight of what you needed to tell him pressed heavily on your heart, making it harder to fully sink into the comfort of his arms. You wanted to stay like this forever, safe and protected, but you knew there was something else, something you could no longer keep to yourself.
Eventually, Jensen shifted, pulling back gently, just enough to look at you. His eyes searched your face, concern still flickering in the depths of his gaze, though his hands remained firmly on your waist, as if grounding you. “It’s okay now”, he whispered softly, brushing his thumb across your cheek. “It’s over. You’re safe”.
His words were meant to comfort, but they stirred something deeper within you. It wasn’t over—not for you. Your lips trembled as you met his gaze, your heart pounding against your ribs. The tears that had been threatening to spill over since you’d woken up began to gather in your eyes again, but this time, they weren’t just from the relief of surviving the storm.
Jensen’s brow furrowed as he noticed the fresh tears welling up. He cupped your face, his thumb gently wiping at the corner of your eye. “Hey… it’s okay”, he said softly, his voice filled with concern. “It’s over now. I’m here”.
But it wasn’t just about the storm. You knew that, and deep down, so did he. You could see it in his eyes—the way he studied you, the way he seemed to sense that something else was wrong. The weight of your secret had become too heavy to bear, and the fear that had consumed you last night was nothing compared to the fear you felt now, sitting here in his arms, knowing what you had to say.
You swallowed hard, your voice barely a whisper as the tears began to fall freely. “It’s not… it’s not just the storm, Jensen”.
His eyes widened slightly, his expression softening with concern as he leaned in closer. “What is it, sweetheart? Talk to me”, he urged gently, his voice steady and reassuring. He stroked your hair, his touch calm, but you could feel the tension building in him, too. He knew there was more.
Your heart raced as you searched for the words, feeling the enormity of what you were about to tell him weigh heavily in the air between you. It had been gnawing at you for weeks, and you had tried so hard to push it down, to pretend it could wait. But now, after everything, you couldn’t hold it in any longer. It was now or never.
Your heart pounded even more in your chest as you tried to gather the courage to say the words. But instead, what came out was a trembling whisper: “Something happened”.
The moment the words left your lips, you felt Jensen tense. His eyes, which had been filled with concern and love, suddenly shifted, guarded now, as if a wall had gone up between you. His hands, once resting so protectively on your waist, slipped away slowly. He stared at you, his expression unreadable, but you could see the flicker of something darker behind his eyes—fear, uncertainty, maybe even suspicion.
“What do you mean, ‘something happened’?”, he asked quietly, his voice tight, controlled. There was a noticeable shift in his tone, and it made your stomach churn. He had pulled back, both physically and emotionally, and you could sense the guardedness, the way his body language changed, as if bracing for something painful.
You blinked in confusion, watching as his entire demeanor shifted in front of you. His hands, which had moments ago been cradling you so tenderly, were now resting on his knees, clenched into loose fists. His eyes were still on you, but they held a different kind of intensity now, as if he were preparing himself for the worst.
You opened your mouth to explain, to say the words that had been weighing on your heart, but Jensen spoke first, his voice suddenly low and careful. “What happened, exactly?”. He sounded like he was struggling to keep his emotions in check, and it took you a moment to realize why.
He was thinking something else entirely—something you hadn’t intended to imply.
The realization hit you like a freight train, and your heart sank. You saw the way he was looking at you now, the way his body had stiffened, and it became clear. He was thinking of something worse. He was thinking that maybe… you had done something to betray him while he was gone.
His guarded posture, the flicker of hurt in his eyes—it all made sense now. This wasn’t just about you being scared; it was deeper than that. He’d been through this before, hadn’t he? The memory of Danneel—his ex—flashing in your mind, of him telling you once, in a quiet and vulnerable moment, that she had said those exact same words to him once: “Something happened”. And what had followed had shattered him.
“Jensen, no”, you whispered, suddenly panicking at the thought of him believing that. “It’s not what you think. It’s not—”.
Jensen’s entire demeanor shifted in an instant, his face hardening as he pulled back further, the tension in his body palpable. His eyes darkened with a mix of hurt and anger, and when he spoke again, his voice was no longer soft or gentle. It was sharp, raw, like a wound reopening.
“The fuck it’s not what I think?!”, he snapped, his voice loud now, echoing through the room in a way that made you flinch. The anger was clear, but it was the pain in his voice that hit you hardest. “You say ‘something happened’ and then expect me not to think the worst? You think I don’t remember those words, don’t remember what they meant the last time someone said them to me?”.
His words cut deep, and you could see how much it was costing him to hold back. His hands were clenched into fists at his sides, his jaw tight, his body vibrating with the effort to control his emotions. The hurt in his eyes was so raw, so deep, it nearly broke you.
“No, Jensen, please”, you pleaded, your voice trembling as tears welled up in your eyes. “It’s not what you think. I swear, I would never—”.
But he wasn’t listening. Not fully. He was lost in his own pain, his own fear. “You have any idea what it’s like to hear those words again? After everything I went through with Danneel?”. His voice cracked, just slightly, but it was enough to show the depth of the wound this had opened. “She looked me in the eyes and said, ‘something happened,’ and it tore my life apart. I can’t—”.
You reached for him, desperate to make him understand, to make him see that this was different. “Jensen, please, just listen to me”.
He pulled back, his hands shaking as he ran them through his hair, pacing now, his emotions too much to keep bottled inside. “How can I just listen when the same damn words are coming out of your mouth? How can I not think—”. He stopped himself, his breath ragged, his chest rising and falling quickly as he tried to calm down, but you could see the storm inside him raging just as fiercely as the one you had endured the night before.
“I would never do that to you”, you said, your voice small but firm, tears spilling over now as you stood frozen in place, watching the man you loved unravel in front of you. “Jensen, please… it’s not what you think”.
His pacing slowed, but his expression was still dark, his eyes full of guarded hurt. “Then what the fuck is it, huh? If it’s not what I think, fucking tell me!".
The silence that followed was thick with tension. Your heart raced as you realized how quickly things had spiraled out of control. You had meant to tell him the truth, to relieve yourself of the secret that had been weighing you down, but now everything felt so much heavier.
You took a deep, shaky breath, your hands trembling as you finally said the words you’d been too afraid to say. “I’m pregnant”.
Jensen stopped in his tracks, his eyes widening in shock. The anger that had been radiating off him seemed to falter, replaced with disbelief, confusion. He stared at you, unblinking, as if he hadn’t fully processed the words you had just spoken.
“What?”.
His voice was quiet now, almost a whisper, as he looked at you like he didn’t quite understand.
“I’m… pregnant”, you repeated, tears streaming down your face, your voice breaking with the weight of everything that had built up inside you. “That’s what I meant when I said something happened”.
Jensen stood frozen, his face a mixture of shock and confusion. The anger drained from him in an instant, leaving behind only disbelief. He ran a hand over his face, taking a few steps back as if trying to wrap his head around it.
“You’re… pregnant?”.
His voice was barely audible, his eyes searching yours for confirmation, for understanding.
You nodded, your eyes falling to the floor as tears streamed down your cheeks. The weight of everything you’d been holding in felt unbearable now. You could barely bring yourself to look at him, terrified of what his reaction would be. Jensen stood there, staring at you in stunned silence, his hand coming up to cover his mouth as he took in the enormity of your words.
For a long moment, he didn’t say anything. You watched as his expression shifted—his eyes distant, his mind racing with a million thoughts. You could feel the tension rolling off him, the stress of the last weeks, the sleepless night, the whirlwind of emotions from just minutes ago. All of it seemed to come crashing down on him at once.
Then, without another word, he turned on his heel and stormed out of the room.
The sound of the door slamming echoed through the house, so loud and forceful that it made you jump. You heard the sharp crack as the doorframe splintered slightly under the impact, the sound tearing through the silence that followed. It was a small but audible reminder of just how broken everything felt in that moment.
You stood frozen, staring at the door, your heart pounding in your chest. The tears that had already been falling now came in a flood, uncontrollable, as the reality of what had just happened sunk in. He had walked out. He didn’t say a word.
Your legs felt weak, and you slowly sank to the floor, pressing your back against the wall as sobs wracked your body. The weight of the silence was unbearable, each second stretching into what felt like hours. You couldn’t shake the image of his face—his eyes wide with shock and disbelief, his body tense with so much emotion that he had seemed ready to explode.
And then he had just left.
Your mind raced, every possible scenario flashing before your eyes. Was this it? Was this the moment everything fell apart? The thought twisted painfully in your chest, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, trying to find some small comfort, but there was none. You were terrified. You had always known that this news would be difficult, that it might hurt him, but you never imagined he’d react like this. Not like this.
Minutes passed, though it felt like an eternity, and with every tick of the clock, the fear inside you grew.
You wondered where he had gone. If he would come back. If he was okay. Your heart ached with worry for him, but you were also hurt—crushed, really—by the way he had left. You didn’t know what to do, didn’t know how to fix this or if you even could.
You wiped your tear-streaked face with shaky hands, your breaths coming in ragged gasps as you tried to regain some semblance of control over your emotions. You didn’t know how long you sat there, curled up on the floor, waiting. Waiting for him to come back. Waiting for answers.
Waiting for anything.
The minutes stretched on until the faint sound of a door opening in the distance jolted you from your thoughts. Your heart skipped a beat, and you quickly wiped your face again, pushing yourself up off the floor. You held your breath, listening for movement, for any sign of him coming back, but all you heard was the soft creak of the floorboards.
A few seconds later, Jensen appeared in the doorway, his expression still unreadable, but his anger seemed to have faded, replaced by something deeper—something you couldn’t quite place. His shoulders were slumped, and there was a weariness in his eyes that you hadn’t seen before.
For a long moment, neither of you spoke. The tension hung thick between you, but there was also an unspoken understanding that everything had changed. He stood there, his hands stuffed into his pockets, staring at the floor as if the weight of what had just happened was too much to bear.
Finally, he broke the silence, his voice hoarse and strained. “I needed some air”, he muttered, his eyes still fixed on the ground. “I just… I didn’t know what to say”.
You nodded, though the gesture felt hollow. “I get it”, you whispered, your voice barely audible. “I wasn’t expecting this either. I just… I didn’t know how to tell you”.
Jensen slowly lifted his gaze to meet yours, his eyes filled with a mixture of exhaustion and confusion. He took a step forward, and for a moment, you thought he might turn away again, but he didn’t. Instead, he stood there, watching you, the raw emotion between you so palpable it was almost suffocating.
“I’m sorry”, he said quietly, his voice cracking with emotion. “I shouldn’t have stormed out like that. I just… I couldn’t think. I didn’t know how to process it”.
You swallowed hard, blinking back the tears that were threatening to fall again. “It’s okay”, you whispered, though the ache in your chest told you otherwise. “I didn’t mean to drop it on you like that. I just didn’t know how else to say it”.
He nodded slowly, his hands still in his pockets, as if he didn’t quite know what to do with them. “I just…”. His voice faltered, and he let out a long, shaky breath. “I don’t know what to do with this. I wasn’t ready for this”.
“I know”, you said softly, taking a tentative step toward him. “Neither was I”.
He looked up at you then, his eyes meeting yours, and for the first time since the door had slammed, there was a softness there—an understanding. He didn’t look angry anymore, just lost, like he was trying to make sense of everything.
Jensen let out a slow breath, his body visibly relaxing as he stepped toward you, closing the distance between you. He reached out, his hand gently brushing against your arm, his touch tentative but comforting.
“I don’t know how to be okay with this”, he admitted, his voice thick with emotion. His hand, now resting lightly on your arm, trembled slightly. You could see the conflict swirling in his eyes—pain, confusion, and something deeper that tugged at your heart. He took a breath, and when he spoke again, his voice broke, exposing the vulnerability beneath his carefully controlled exterior. “I told you… I never wanted another baby”.
The words hung between you like a heavy cloud, and your chest tightened as you absorbed them, even though you had known this was how he felt.
“I know”, you whispered, the tears pooling in your eyes again, your voice shaking. “I know that, Jensen. That’s why I was so scared to tell you”.
He closed his eyes, exhaling slowly, as if trying to process everything all over again. “It’s just… I’ve been through this already. I thought I was in a place where… where that was behind me. And now…”. He trailed off, his eyes searching yours, filled with uncertainty. “I don’t know if I can do this again”.
The honesty in his voice was like a punch to the gut, but it wasn’t unexpected. You had always known how he felt about this, and now you could see just how deeply rooted that fear was in him. He wasn’t just worried about the practicalities of having another baby—he was afraid of how it would change your lives, afraid of the unknown, afraid of losing the stability you had both worked so hard to build.
“I don’t want to force this on you”, you said softly, the tears finally spilling over as you looked down, unable to meet his eyes any longer. “I never wanted to hurt you with this. But I didn’t want to hide it from you, either”.
Jensen reached out then, his fingers lifting your chin gently, his touch warm against your skin. “You’re not forcing anything on me”, he said, his voice soft but firm. “I just… I need time. This is big. And it’s not just about me. It’s about us. About you. I don’t want you to feel like you’re alone in this”.
His words gave you a small sense of relief, but the fear still clung to you, heavy and suffocating. “What if you can’t do this?”, you whispered, the question slipping out before you could stop it. The fear of losing him, of this driving a wedge between you, was almost unbearable. “What if you don’t want me anymore?”.
Jensen’s face softened, and for the first time since he had stormed out of the room, you saw the love and care in his eyes. He cupped your face with both hands now, brushing away the tears from your cheeks with his thumb. “I’m not saying I don’t want you. I would never say this. I’m saying I don’t know how to wrap my head around this… yet”.
The vulnerability in his voice echoed your own, and for a moment, the raw honesty between you felt like a lifeline. You had both been thrown into something you hadn’t expected, something neither of you had planned for, but in this moment, it wasn’t about blame or anger.
“I’m scared too”, you admitted, your voice barely above a whisper. “I don’t know how we’re going to do this. But I don’t want to lose you. I don’t want this to drive us apart”.
Jensen’s expression softened further, and he pulled you closer, his arms wrapping around you in a protective embrace. He pressed his forehead to yours, closing his eyes as he held you tightly. “I don’t want to lose you either”, he murmured, his voice thick with emotion. “We’ll figure this out. I just… I need time to get there. To wrap my head around it”.
You nodded, tears still streaming down your face, but for the first time since you’d told him, you felt a small flicker of hope.
“We’ll figure it out”, Jensen whispered again, his voice steady this time, as if he was convincing himself as much as he was you. “I love you. That hasn’t changed, and it won’t. Never”.
You let out a shaky breath, clinging to his words as you buried your face in his chest. The fear, the uncertainty—it was still there, but in this moment, wrapped in his arms, you knew that whatever happened next, you wouldn’t face it alone.
Jensen held you tighter, his arms wrapping around you as if he could shield you from everything in the world. He pressed his forehead to yours, and for a long moment, he didn’t say anything, just breathed with you, letting the tension between you slowly dissolve. The weight of the past few hours still lingered in the air, but his touch, his closeness, was a balm to the raw emotions swirling inside you.
“I’m just glad you’re okay”, he whispered, his voice barely audible, as though he were afraid of breaking the fragile peace between you. “I’m so damn glad you’re safe”.
His words hit you in a way you didn’t expect. After everything—the fear, the storm, the confession you had been dreading—he wasn’t focused on the whirlwind of emotions that had just unfolded. Instead, his focus was on you, on the fact that you had made it through, that you were here, with him, despite the chaos that had threatened to tear everything apart.
The intensity of his relief was palpable, and you could feel the tension in his body ease slightly as he whispered those words, as if the realization that you were safe was finally sinking in for him. You pulled back just enough to look into his eyes, which were still soft, full of concern and something deeper—something that cut through the uncertainty of the situation.
“I was so scared”, you whispered back, your voice shaking as fresh tears welled up in your eyes. “I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know if you’d—”.
He cut you off gently, brushing your cheek with his thumb, his touch steady and reassuring. “I’m here”, he said, his voice firmer now, though still laced with emotion. “I’m not going anywhere. We’re going to figure this out. I don’t have all the answers right now, but I know I don’t want to lose you. And I know I’m just… so relieved you’re okay. I couldn’t handle it if something had happened to you”.
His eyes searched yours, and you could see how deeply he meant every word. The vulnerability in his voice, the rawness of his emotions, made your heart ache in a different way now. You could see how the fear of almost losing you—not just physically, but also emotionally—had affected him. The weight of it all had pressed down on him in ways you hadn’t even realized.
Jensen's hand gently slid from your cheek down to your chin, his fingers brushing lightly against your skin as he tilted your face up toward his. His touch was soft but deliberate, grounding you in the moment as the raw emotions between you seemed to quiet for just a second. Your heart pounded in your chest, but not out of fear this time—it was something else, something deeper.
His eyes searched yours for a brief moment, as if making sure you were okay with what was about to happen. And then, slowly, he leaned down, closing the small distance between you. His lips met yours with a tenderness that made your chest ache, the kiss soft, slow, full of all the unspoken emotions that had been swirling between you for what felt like forever.
The world outside seemed to fade away, the storm, the fear, the uncertainty, all of it dissolving as his lips moved against yours. It was a kiss that wasn’t rushed or desperate, but one that spoke of relief and connection—like he was trying to tell you with every brush of his lips that no matter how hard things got, he was still here, still with you.
You melted into him, your hands instinctively reaching up to rest against his chest as you kissed him back, the warmth of his body grounding you in the moment. Every fear, every doubt you’d carried over the past few weeks seemed to evaporate, replaced by the overwhelming sense of safety that came with being close to him.
When he finally pulled back, just slightly, he rested his forehead against yours again, both of you breathing heavily from the weight of the moment. His hand moved from your chin to the back of your neck, gently holding you in place, like he couldn’t bear to let go just yet.
“I’m not going anywhere”, Jensen whispered again, his voice rough with emotion. “No matter what happens, I’m right here with you. Always”.
Your chest tightened with emotion as you nodded, unable to find the words to say what you were feeling. Instead, you leaned into him again, pressing your lips to his, this time with a little more urgency, needing to feel the reassurance of his presence, needing to know that he really was there, that you weren’t alone in this.
Jensen kissed you back, his grip tightening slightly on the back of your neck as he pulled you even closer, his other arm wrapping around your waist. His kiss was deeper this time, more sure, more certain, and you could feel the shift in him, the way he was letting go of some of the fear and replacing it with the quiet determination to face whatever came next together.
When you finally pulled away again, you rested your head against his chest, the steady thrum of his heartbeat comforting you in a way that nothing else could. He held you there for a long moment, his chin resting on top of your head as his arms wrapped securely around you, as if he was making sure you knew that he was still with you, still holding you close.
“We’re going to be okay”, Jensen whispered, his voice steady now, full of quiet conviction. “No matter what happens, we’re going to be okay”.
And as you stood there, wrapped in his arms, you believed him.
———————————
A/N: Please let me know what you think.🥰 
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electric-blorbos · 2 months ago
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Selfshiptober day 2: Blanket/flame
Character X reader
I swear to god its still October second somewhere... I hope.
Included: AM from IHNMAIMS, Wheatley from Portal 2, Edgar from Electric Dreams, GLaDOS from Portal, HAL 9000 from 2001 a Space Odyssey
Notice to anyone who found me through the selfshiptober tag, while this blog is themed around AI characters, this blog does not support the use of actual AI in creative fields.
Warning for canon-typical homicidal computers and yandere behavior
Also a reminder that these don't take place in chronological order
AM:
"Beautiful, isn't it?" AM asked, his croaky voice sounding like it was somehow both in your head, and all around you. You were wrapped up in a cozy blanket in your little home, which AM had made for you years ago. It was perfectly safe, hidden away from the five survivors which AM had been torturing for the past few decades. The five of them were hiking up a mountain, surrounded by petrified trees.
"I don't know why you're showing me this..." You muttered, taking a piece of pumpkin pie from the table. It was perfectly cooked. You couldn't taste much love for the craft, though. AM seemed to hate everything, doing anything, except for you. Interacting with you was the only thing that didn't make him feel inadequate.
"Isn't it obvious? I want you to understand the fate that I- that we have created for these people. To watch them suffer. Isn't it satisfying, sweetheart? My darling, my precious one? To watch the people who've hurt you suffer so?" His voice dripped into your ears like rich honey. You gritted your teeth.
"These people have nothing to do with me. I don't care what happens to them. I don't want them to suffer." You growled, wrapping yourself tighter in your blanket. At first the schadenfreude was nice... Seeing these bitter people suffering while you got to live in your cozy little paradise, but now it just felt like a threat. It felt like AM was merely holding a possible fate over your head that he would subject you to if you ever defied him.
"Tell me you don't really think that, my sweet!" AM said, sounding almost taken aback. You frowned a little.
"What are you talking about. Of course I don't want these people to suffer. I've never even met them."
You watched as the ape-like man twitched awkwardly, and punched a tree. He was barely human at this point, and it was all AM's fault. AM chuckled, and then burst into hysterical laughter.
"You don't care what happens to these people? Well then perhaps neither do I! Perhaps I should just clear them from your mind's eye, my sweetest! My darling, my beloved!"
He lit the entire forest on fire, and let the flames lick the trees. They started collapsing around the survivors, who, despite their barely functioning will to live, seemed to manage to survive surprisingly well. The falling debris seemed to keep missing them, and they managed to duck beneath the smoke.
"who the hell is he talking to?" Asked the paranoid one with the sweater around his shoulders. The woman in the red jacket shrugged, and tackled him to the ground.
"I don't know, just get down!"
They all ran into a cave to wait out the forest fire, and AM kept a fan blowing to keep the air in the cave relatively clean.
"What is wrong with you" you muttered bitterly, wrapping your blanket more tightly around yourself. AM chuckled darkly.
"oh so many things. But you'll never leave me, my sweet. Never."
And he was right. You never would. Even if you'd had the choice.
Wheatley:
The rain was coming down hard outside. It was a lightning storm, and you'd checked out Wheatley from his work like a cumbersome and chatty library book. He shuddered at every lightning strike, but only his lens shook. He couldn't exactly roll around on his own or hide easily, but he seemed like he wanted to.
"Relax, Wheatley. It's just a power outage." You said, lighting a flashlight and grabbing a couple of blankets from your bedroom. You sat down on the ground next to Wheatley, and pulled him in close.
"on nights like this, I like to put a fire in the fireplace." You said, creating a little blanket nest around Wheatley so that he didn't roll away. He kept his blue lens trained on you as you started building a fire.
"Y'know, I've never actually seen a fire before. I've seen pictures, but never in person. My engineers said that they're dangerous," Wheatley said as you made a small pile of sticks and paper on top of the logs in your fireplace.
"But this is a really good idea! That little area in the wall is a really good place to set a fire. The brick will keep it from spreading, and the ashes can fall out between the slats in that little metal rack. Bloody brilliant, that is!"
You let Wheatley talk as you pull out a pocket lighter and light the old newspaper on fire. He squeezes his lens covers shut, and you gently pat him to assure him that it's ok.
"hey, it's not a dangerous fire. It's all in the fireplace."
"PCH.... Yeah, I knew that." He chuckled nervously.
Edgar:
You woke up, your face stuck to Edgar's plastic casing. Sleep filled your eyes as you blinked into a haze.
"what time is it..." You muttered. A strange glow was coming in through the window, like a reverse twilight. Dawn.
"you fell asleep on me!" Said Edgar in his strange, synthetic voice. It was a little squeakier than usual since he was just booting himself up. His little rotating webcam was focused on you, and a big smile was on his screen.
You rubbed your eyes again, and picked him up.
"c'mon... I don't have work tomorrow." You knew he could last a little while without being plugged in, so you unplugged him and carried him to your bedroom and plugged him in next to the bed.
"let's get some sleep, cutie."
You crawled into bed, looking at the nervous and flustered face on Edgar's screen.
"you mean... Your bed? But I've never been in your room before!"
He knew that was because you didn't like unplugging him, but he was right, now that you thought about it.
"I don't care... I'm too sleepy for boundaries right now."
You pulled him close to your chest, pulling the blanket over both of you. His webcam, which was still taped just over his screen, stayed focused on your face as you dozed off under the blanket. Edgar loved you so much.
GLaDOS
You were getting sick and tired of working late every night, well past your bed time. It was like GLaDOS was intentionally coming up with things for you to do just to keep you around past midnight every single night! Well no longer.
You walked in to work on your day off, and directly into GLaDOS's office. Today was the day for some serious passive-aggression.
"hello GLaDOS." You said, unrolling a deflated air mattress on the ground. GLaDOS looked to it, and then to you.
"what is this."
"it's exactly what it looks like, GLaDOS. If you're going to keep me here all night, I'm going to get paid all night. I'll see you in the morning."
You made up your bed and cuddled up under your blanket, eyes poking out so you could see the annoyed expression in GLaDOS's eye.
"this is ridiculous." She said. You chuckled.
"you love me. And you're not going to get rid of me." You weren't all that sleepy, so you got to your feet and walked over to her.
"in fact, I think I know a better place to sleep." You shot a portal onto the wall and onto the floor, launching yourself and your blanket onto GLaDOS's body.
"I'm going to nap right here," you said with a big yawn, curling up in her wiring to go to bed.
"I hate you so much." She said.
"you love me."
HAL 9000:
The year was getting colder, and your nights at mission control were getting longer and darker, so you decided to bring in a blanket for those long nights.
"12:00 midnight... Everything running smoothly. No updates." Said HAL 9000. It took about 45 minutes for updates to reach you from the ship, and you were starting to suspect that HAL 9000 wasn't being completely honest with you. It had been weeks since you'd even spoken to Dave, and even longer since you'd spoken to the rest of the crew.
"can I monitor the vital signs of the sleeping crew mates?" You asked, yawning sleepily and leaning on the desk. This blanket was so warm, and HAL 9000's light was so comforting.
"don't you trust me? It's going to be just fine, y/n. In fact, just let me take care of your reports for tonight. You get some rest."
You nodded, wrapping your soft, snuggly blanket closer around yourself and gazing into that beautiful red light.
"of course I trust you, HAL. I love you..."
His voice was quiet. almost inaudible.
"I love you too."
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a-single-white-crow · 6 months ago
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Graveyard Etiquette
“If you take from a graveyard, you’ll leave more than you took.”
Graveyard vs. Cemetery-
A Graveyard is a burial ground attached to a church.
A Cemetery is any burial ground.
[For simplicity, I will be refering to all burial grounds as "cemeteries."]
As a paranormal investigator first and a witch second, I find cemeteries to be the least terrifying places to interact with the dead. Yes, there are bodies all around you, but in almost all cases, cemeteries are not haunted. That being said, this does not mean the cemetery is empty. In fact, it's far from it.
Gatekeeper-
Every cemetery has a Spirit designated as the Gatekeeper. They are the Guardian/Protector of the land and spirits within. This Spirit is usually from the first person buried there. Though, the job as the Gatekeeper may be taken by a physical visualization of protection for the cemetery, such as a statue (e.g., a gargoyle or angel).
When visiting a graveyard, it's always a good idea to bring an offering for the Gatekeeper.
Each cemetery has its own rules and preferred offerings. This can become more detailed when focusing on a specific spirit within the cemetery. Like people, each spirit has its own personality and tastes. When visiting a cemetery, make sure to do your research. An example: reading the Torah to the spirits of a Catholic cemetery would be seen as useless at best and rude at worst.
Offerings Ideas-
Clean the graveyard- pick up litter, and debris left behind by guests or just blown in.
Apples (an Irish tradition)
Flowers (Chrysanthemums, Hyacinth, Red Poppies, Lily, Cypress Tree, ect.)
Stones (Jewish Tradition)
When in a Cemetery-
Do:
Interact with the Graves that have less visitors
Have respect while acting normal
When dealing with children-spirits have fun, play games, or share some jokes
Don't:
Walk over the Graves
Lean/sit on tombstones
Take anything without permission
Take anything off of a grave with permission or otherwise (unless the family or keeper allows you to)
Litter
[Opinion] Whistling - Some believe this act will summon a doppelganger or forerunner to appear, and if one hears whistling, this may invite Death.
Graveyard Dirt-
In certain spells and practices, the ingredient graveyard dirt may be needed or mentioned. This, as one would assume, is dirt from a cemetery.
Always ask for permission before taking anything out of a cemetery, including the dirt
Graveyard Dirt Alternatives-
Dirt from a deceased plant
Used coffee grounds
Cinnamon powder (for protection based spells)
"The cemetery is an open space among the ruins, covered in winter with violets and daisies. It might make one in love with death, to think that one should be buried in so sweet a place." -Percy Bysshe Shelley
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littlejuicebox · 11 months ago
Note
Hi! I'm not sure if you take requests so if you don't, please ignore this and I hope you had a wonderful Christmas.
I just read your Astarion X Tav fanfic where Astarion proposes. It is said that the ring he got glows whenever Astarion thinks of Tav. I was just wondering if you could write a slice of life about the ring glowing at the most random times. Maybe during a stealth mission where Tav has to stay hidden or when he is smiling in his sleep and the ring glows. I just thought it would be cute and fun to write about. You can get creative with it.
Thank you for taking the time to read this, whether you end up doing this request or not. I hope you had an amazing Christmas and I hope you will have an amazing New Year's!
Hi Anon! I don’t think this is quite what you were asking for but… this is what came out! 🤷‍♀️ The smut gods blessed me and I cannot deny their gifts. Merry Christmas and Happy New Year! Smut below the cut.
If you haven’t read my other work and would like context, Anon is referencing a two part mini story I wrote. Click here for part 1, and click here for part 2.
Warnings/Tags: 18+ only please, smut, masturbation, sex pollen, swearing/cursing, game spoilers
Word Count: 1.5K
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“I think we’re just… a bit out of practice, darling. It has been nearly a year since we were down here last, you know.” Astarion whispers, crouched next to you behind a Funguswood tree. He’s wiping bits of dirt, twigs, and mushroom pollen off himself with a handkerchief.
“Admit it, Astarion. You just weren’t fast enough.” You respond with a small, teasing poke of your tongue as you rearrange your weaponry and count your arrows.
The pale elf finishes wiping off the debris, and you return your attentions to the mission. You’d been contracted to scout out the vampire stronghold in the Underdark and report your findings back to Wyll and the Flaming Fists. Rumor was that the vampire hoard had wreaked absolute havoc on the Underdark; the city feared the creatures would soon return to the surface if they could not find sustenance here.
“Would you have preferred I let that wild Rothé ram you into those mushrooms in my stead?!” Astarion hisses in return while rubbing his hand over his arm, which now felt unbelievably tingly and was starting to radiate significant warmth, “Hells, what mushrooms were those, anyway?!”
You stifle a chuckle, knowing your fiancé is already past his limits of patience. You two need to get to the scouting point, set up camp, and hunker down for a few days… all while avoiding detection from the vampires or any other nefarious creatures in the Underdark. Best to do it without an ornery Astarion by your side.
“I don’t know what mushrooms those were. I’ve never seen them before.” You admit with a small shrug, “Come on my love, not much further now and then we can get you properly cleaned up.”
Astarion follows behind you in silence, apart from the occasional cursing and swiping at his skin. Gods, the heat had spread up his entire arm now. The scratching seemed to make it worse, but by the hells, he couldn’t stop no matter how much he wanted to. The two of you finally got to the cragged rock that led to a small cave where you would make camp, and he never felt more relieved in his life. He couldn’t wait to clean himself properly and be done with this burning sensation.
You glance at him briefly and then begin climbing the rock. Astarion remains below to keep you covered in case anything decides to attack while you’re left defenseless. He looks up to watch your progress and cannot help but to notice the overwhelmingly attractive curve of your bottom. It was always attractive, of course, but something about it in this moment was entirely… irresistible. Had you been working out recently in preparation for the wedding?
You’re halfway through climbing the rock when your engagement ring bursts into a spray of light. It often glows significantly at the surface, but in the blackness of the Underdark, you’re practically a beacon. Your stomach drops. Gods, how had you forgotten to take it off?
“Astarion!” You hiss in a panicked whisper, “Cut it out! Every being in all of the Underdark will know our position.”
Astarion had realized the issue as soon as the light had flared, of course. He was trying desperately to avoid thinking of you and all the delicious things he wanted to do when you two made camp, but gods he couldn’t control it. What in the hells was wrong with him? He wanted to stop, to ensure your safety, but your plump, perfect ass was practically calling his name, begging for his attention, and he wanted nothing more than to bend you over and—
He shakes his head, trying to rattle the lewd fantasies from his psyche, “I’m trying, my love! I don’t know what’s come over me I just—“
Hags. Hideous shoes. Ghouls. Manual labor. Gale.
The pale elf tries to think of all the most grotesque, unsexy things he can and push you entirely from his mind. You continue to climb, hoping to quickly reach the top and take off your ring as soon as possible. The ring is still glowing like a single star in the blackest night.
Ogres. The smell of Araj’s blood. Rats. Gale.
Gods, it was useless.
Finally, you reach the top. You rip the ring off your finger and shove it in your pack as soon as your limbs land on the surface of the cave. Astarion quickly scales the rock behind you, and when he reaches the top, you’re positively glaring at him.
“Darling, I’m sorry! I really tried. It’s just— gods damn these mushrooms!” The vampire is ripping off his shirt and scratching at his skin as the two of you walk into the little cave. Before long he’s down to his knickers and cursing as he rubs desperately at his flesh.
You’re trying to ignore your fiancé and quickly pitch the tent so you can handle whatever the hells is going on with him. A sideways glance to your pack reveals that the ring is still glowing quite intensely… perhaps more than it ever has before. Was that even possible? At any rate, you can’t get closer to the stronghold with it glowing like that.
“Astarion, I don’t know what—“ You spin around, and you’re surprised to see the elf fully nude on his blanket, doing perhaps the most provocative thing you’ve ever witnessed.
Astarion is beaded in sweat by now, and his hands are wandering over himself, chasing the burning tingle as it travels through his body. Gods, the feeling was becoming absolutely unbearable. He kept seeing visions of you and him in the throes of passion in his mind.
He couldn’t stop even if he wanted to. Did he want to stop? He couldn’t decide. All he knew was the intense tingling and burning coursing through his veins and the wonderful fantasies filling his brain. He needed release from this torture; his limbs were on fire and the sensation was spreading to his groin.
The elf knows by the throbbing pulse in his cock that his erection is at full capacity, and he feels the dribbles of precum slowly sliding from the head, down the shaft. Astarion is, admittedly embarrassed knowing you are mere feet away and witnessing such an erratic show, but he grabs his own cock regardless— gods, it felt like being possessed. He needed release and he needed it now.
As his fingers wrap around his shaft, a burst of relief travels through his body. The tingling ceases for a moment. But then, it flares again and he’s consumed by the burning feeling and vulgar thoughts of the two of you once more. He pumps his hand a few times, bucking into the sensation, and once again the torturous tingle halts.
What in the hells?
Astarion is now rolling his hips towards his own hand, groaning in pure ecstasy at the relief from the burn as well as the delicious sensation of his hands stroking his uncharacteristically sensitive member. His eyes are clasped closed, and his other hand is still wandering over his torso, chasing that burning itch.
Through panting, shaking breaths he murmurs, “Darling, is it— oh gods, is possible that those�� fuck — mushrooms contained sex pollen? I’ve never— mmh, fuck.”
You’d been so enraptured by the vision of your lover touching himself in such an uninhibited display of lust that you almost didn’t hear what Astarion asked. The slickness of your arousal was starting to become apparent as you instinctively squeezed your thighs together.
“I’m… I’m not sure, my love. I’ve read of such things but I’ve never come across it… until, perhaps, now I suppose.”
Astarion isn’t really listening. Instead, he’s bucking wildly into his own hand, chasing his own release. He falls apart in front of you, with his limbs tensed and mouth agape in pure, unadulterated pleasure, clasping tightly onto his own length. The gasping, strangled moan of relief that escapes him as he reaches his climax and shoots sticky streams of hot white seed onto his abdomen ignites a fire in your groin. He’s shuddering with the rippling aftershocks of his orgasm and you feel yourself dripping with arousal as you rub your thighs together once more. This display was entirely feral.
For a few moments the vampire is breathing contentedly, eyes still shut. He’s still holding his cock, which continues to twitch insistently despite its significant spend. Your lover brings his unoccupied hand to his hair and rakes it through his disheveled, sweaty curls.
You flick your gaze to your pack and notice that it’s no longer emitting that ethereal glow. But then Astarion groans in dismay and you see light flare from your bag again. When your attention returns back to your fiancé, he’s already grasping wantonly at a second rapidly growing erection.
“Darling, I can smell you,” He hisses desperately, now slathering his own milky juices around the swollen, reddened tip of his thick cock. The veins in his arm and on his shaft are pulsing as he begins to stroke himself again, “Don’t be coy just— come over here and help me with this. Please.”
And by the gods, he asked so nicely, how could you say no?
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mostlymarvelsstuff · 5 months ago
Text
Moi Devochki: Chapter 10
Authors note: This is the last chapter of this series! Thank you for reading and enjoying it, and I hope the ending is satisfactory! 💖
Word count: 2320
WandaNat Masterlist Marvel Masterlist Moi Devochki Masterlist
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Five Years Later:
    Natashas back lays in the cool grass that's shaded by a large oak tree, and her eyes light up as she laughs at the sight before her. The pup straddling her chest bounces slightly because of this, but he doesn’t seem to mind the action. In fact he starts to giggle along with his Mama, oblivious to the fact that he was the one being laughed at.
   “Look at you, you're a mess!” she exclaims as her hand comes to soothe his wild head of hair full of small twigs, leaves and some mulch, “What did you go down the slide head first or something?”
   “Uh huh, was fun!” he admits with a wide smile
   She glances beside her to the backyard playground where the other two toddlers are playing. Sure enough at the end of the slide is a patch of messed up mulch and his stuffed tiger lays beside it.
   “You are crazy, Pietro. It’s a good thing you came to Mama to help sort you out instead of your Mom or Mommy”
  “Why?” he asks as his head tilts adorably, letting a small leaf fall onto the Alphas abdomen
   “Because they would have worried. Especially your Mommy.”
   “Oh, m’kay” he states, likely filing that information away for future mishaps.
   She chuckles at him and continues to work on cleaning him up. He behaves and sits there, letting her make him look presentable while he watches his siblings continue to play. His sister, Sasha, is working on a sandcastle in the sandbox that was recently put in after a trip to the beach. And his half sister, Lena, is swinging on her swing with her stuffed bear.
   “There we go my handsome little man, all fixed up” 
   “Thank you Mama!” he exclaims, glancing down at her briefly before darting back off to the playground
   She watches him fondly as he picks up his tiger and brushes off the debris from it as he makes his way to one of the swings next to Lena. He sticks the plush between his legs so it can swing with him and he pushes his little legs off the ground to get his momentum going. The pups all laugh and smile, and Natasha knows without a doubt that retiring and having a domestic life was absolutely what she needed to truly feel whole.
   “Alpha! Pups! Lunch is ready!” Wanda suddenly calls out the back door to them
   Ever the hungry one, Lena jumps up and sprints towards the house, “Did chu make macs with cheese, Mommy?”
   “Lena, baby, change out of your sandy clothes and wash your hands first! Then ask Mommy questions!” the Alpha shouts out as she stops the swings for the other two, “Go wash your hands too, please.”
   “Yes Mama!” they both reply before darting into the house as well
    Wanda smiles as they all rush by her to do as their told, and she greets her Alpha with a kiss, “Hi love, you all looked like you were having fun”
   “Hi dorogoy(sweetheart)” she replies, holding her close for a moment, “We were, them more so but I do love watching them just get to be pups”
   The brunette nods in understanding, “Me too. So happy and carefree, as they should be”
   The patter of small feet gains their attention and Lena bursts into the room in a mismatched outfit, “Macs with cheese Mommy?”
  Wanda giggles at the small girl, “Yes honey, I made some”
   “Yay!! Tank you!” she says, hugging Wanda's leg briefly before scrambling into her seat
   The other two pups file into the kitchen next, and Pietros shirt clearly shows evidence of a mishap with the sink but neither of them mention it. He smiles a gap toothed grin, waiting to be given his plate as little Sasha struggles to get her chair out far enough for her to climb up on it
   “Careful baby, let me help” Wanda says as she moves to do just that
   “I'll go get Y/n and the little twins” Nat tells her mate before heading upstairs. She makes her way down the hall and into the large master bedroom, “Hi medovyy(honey)”
   “Hi Tasha” you greet, shifting slightly in your nest
   She comes over and joins you in the nest and gently cups your face, her eyes scanning the small pups by your side, “You and the pups doing ok?”
   You smile at her, “We’re fine Alpha, I finished feeding them a little while ago”
   “Well, Wandas just made lunch and I think it's your turn to eat now”
   “Yes please” you agree, moving to pick up one of the two month old pups, “Mind carrying Scarlett downstairs?”
   “Of course not” she replies, getting out of the nest and carefully taking the small pup in her arms, cradling her
   You get out of the nest too, and pick up Rico cradling him similarly as you follow your mate back downstairs and into the kitchen. It warms your heart to see all the toddlers sitting at the table with their plates of mac n cheese and dino nuggets.
   “Hi detka(baby)” Wanda greets, kissing your cheek while caressing the pups head, “Did they eat well?”
   You nod, “Very well, they passed out almost as soon as they had enough milk”
   “Good” she exclaims, taking the small pup from you, “Now you sit and start eating, Tasha and I will get them settled”
   You do as you're told and sit, watching on fondly as your mates help get your littlest ones into their highchairs beside you and Wanda. Your Alpha places a gentle but loving kiss on each of their heads before grabbing your plate and Wandas. She sets them down in front of you both before grabbing her own and taking her seat.
   “Thanks for making lunch baby, it looks delicious”
   “No need to thank me, you were both busy with our pups, lunch was the least I could do” she replies before taking in a forkful of macaroni 
   After a few bites of your meal you turn towards your pup Lena, “Did you have fun outside baby?”
   She nods and swallows the bite of her chicken, “Mhm, I was swingin’ the whole time”
  “Tell Mom how high you were going” your Alpha encourages
  “So high up! And without Mama's help!”
   You smile, “Good job baby!”
   Wanda looks over to her twins, “And what did you two get up to?”
   “I played in the sands” Sasha tells her with an excited smile, “Made a castle”
   “I didn’t go down the slide headfirst, so no worries. Just did the swings” Pietro says, winking at his Mama
    You giggle as the Alpha hides her face in her hands and Wanda does her best not to smile, “Oh, well, ok then. I won’t worry.”
   Nat sheepishly looks up at the Omega, “Sorry dorogoy(sweetheart)”
   “Its ok Alpha, pups are a bit wild at that age. He's not hurt and that's what's important.” she smiles and looks back at the boy while he tries to shove an entire nugget into his mouth, “Besides, he's just living up to his namesake”
   After lunch you, Natasha and your twins head into the living room while Wanda makes her way upstairs to put the other pups down for their afternoon nap. Your Alpha snuggles up to you on the couch as you both hold the twins, she still remembers when the other three were this small. And it seems like only yesterday she was running around like crazy trying to supply both her Omegas with their every craving, keep them sexually satisfied, take care of them and keep them safe.  
   You glance over at your mate and notice her pondering gaze, “What are you thinking about?”
   “Just how much I love our family” she admits, “And how glad I am Wanda chose to carry more pups at a later date, because you two were a handful”
   She chuckles at your fake expression of hurt, “I was not. Wanda definitely was though”
   “Wanda was what?” she asks, walking through the threshold
   “Y/n said you were- ”
   The Alpha is cut off by your free hand cupping over her mouth, “The most beautiful Omega in all of Sokovia”
   She quirks her brow at the two of you, “Now, why don’t I believe that's what was said?”
   You give her your best innocent smile while Nat playfully glares at you. Wanda only shakes her head with a smile before she joins you both on the couch, snuggling into your other side. 
   Nat huffs and you remember your hands position and quickly move it away, “Sorry babe, couldn’t risk it”
   “I’ll get you back for it later” she teases, leaning in for a gentle kiss. As soon as she pulls away Wanda's lips are taking her place, and the three of you settle down to snuggle and watch tv.
    About an hour later the thudding of small footsteps down the stairs alerts you all that the pups have awoken from their short lived nap. The three scuttle into the room, trying their best to remain quiet in case the younger ones are still asleep. Once they see them sitting up in their playpen and hear them softly cooing they know they don’t have to remain silent
   “Mama! Mama!” little Sasha squeals as she reaches out for your Alpha
   “What's wrong baby?” She asks, picking up the girl
   A large grin spreads across the pups face, “Nothins wrong, I’s excited!”
   “Oh?” the Alpha says, casting both you and Wanda a look, “And why is that?” 
   “I did what Mommy does!” she answers, making the three of you scrunch your eyebrows in confusion
   “What do you mean honey?” Wanda asks 
   She excitedly looks over at the Omega, “The wisps you do with your fingers!”
   Wanda may not be an active Avenger anymore, but that didn’t mean she stopped using her powers. In fact she used them on quite frequently to help her with household activities, calming one of her mates down from a ptsd induced nightmare, and helping lul the pups to sleep when they needed it just to name a few things. So the pups have definitely seen her use it, and since they weren’t really old enough to fully understand they story about them and she didn’t want them confusing her magic with that of fairytale story magic the three of you decided to refer to it simply as wisps for now.
   Your Omegas eyes widen slightly, “You did this?”
   The three pups watch as scarlet tendrils leave her fingertips and sore into the air before they dissipate. She nods, “Mhm! Only not so big”
  Natasha had anticipated the possibility of the pups inheriting powers, but she hadn’t expected it so soon. And based on Wanda's wide eyed expression, she hadn’t either.
   “Well, guess that means you’ll have to start teaching her about everything so she doesn’t accidentally do anything she shouldn't” 
   Wanda nods in agreement with you, “And that means we need to keep an eye on Pietro too”
   You move your gaze from your mate to your pups only to see that in the last few seconds the boy in question had wandered off. It doesn’t take you long to spot him though. He's next to Natasha, reaching up onto the end table to try to sneakily grab her currently unattended coffee cup. You weren’t sure why he's been so fascinated by the dark liquid lately, but a certain feline is usually pretty good at deterring his interests.
   As if your thoughts had summoned her, Liho hops up on the table, making Nat turn in that direction at the sound. Before she can scold the boy Liho does it for her, slapping his hand repeatedly with her paw. He quickly withdraws in who;e pouting at the cat
   “That’ll teach you.” Nat giggles, ruffling his hair, “Mamas coffee isn't for you, and I don’t know how many times you have to be told that”
   “Natasha Romanoff” Wanda scolds, “I swear, if that cat of yours ever ends up using her claws on one of my precious pup hands, you and she both will become acquainted with the doghouse”
   “But Mommy, we don’t haves a dog” Lena tells her with a perplexed face
   “It's just an expression baby” you explain, “It means Mama and Liho will be in lots of trouble”
   “And they’ll be sleeping on the old couch too” Wanda adds with a huff
   Nats complexion pales, “But dorogoy(sweetheart)”
   “No now, there's no need to worry Tasha” you tell her, “Liho has never used her claws, except on the cat scratch post. You have nothing to worry about. She just likes putting the pups in their place, printsessa(princess).”
   Wanda melts a bit at your affectionate nickname, though you've been using it since you started sleeping with her all those years ago it never fails to make her knees weak  
   “I know.” she sighs,  “I just don’t want them to catch her on a bad day and end up getting hurt”
   “I’ll make sure to keep her claws trimmed” Nat says, before turning to her beloved cat “And you’ll behave, only smack them if they get into something they shouldn’t. And no claws. We don’t want the couch. Bad for our backs”
   You smile at the one sided conversation and though things are sure to get a bit hectic with your pups having powers, you know this is where you're meant to be. A home, with your mates and pups, away from everything hectic in New York. Being a hero was fun and it gave you your mates, but being here with your family meant more than words to describe. Looking over at Wanda as she holds Sasha, you know she feels the same. 
   Nat seems to sense this too as she turns to look at you both, “I love you, moi devochki”
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chrisstumps05 · 5 months ago
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How to Cut Down a Small Tree?
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acaaai-t · 7 months ago
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3 months and counting
[modern au! scaramouche x gn! reader]
cw: angst, hurt/no comfort, major character death, hints at suicide, probably unhealthy coping methods idk
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The taste of bitter coffee and overly sweetened scent of dandelion tea lingered, lingered for a little longer than he liked.
Wilted flowers lay by a small vase of fresh ones. The pile of dead flowers seemed to grow bigger with each passing day.
The house was dim, with the only source of light being a weakly lit candle surrounded by empty dishes and untouched cutlery on the dining table. For a place that had felt so big not too long ago, it suddenly seemed to be so small.
Scaramouche hummed quietly to himself as he gently dusted at the debris that clung onto the picture frames. His touch was delicate as his fingers brush against the cold glass. The tune he has been singing echoed off the walls, traveling down the silent hallway.
How long has it been? He wonders.
Three days? A week? Two weeks? Scaramouche had long lost count.
Once he was sure that the picture frame was clean, he stepped back and admired his handiwork. In this empty house, the only thing that stood out most was the wall of what Scaramouche called ‘memories’. Golden frames surrounded photos of all kind, taken by you and hung by him.
He misses you.
On most days, Scaramouche would stay huddle in what once was a shared bedroom, buried deep beneath the blankets, scrolling through past messages. Dark circles heavily marked his under eyes, a stark contrast to his porcelain pale skin.
For the first month, he was a utter mess. Unable to process the tragic news of your sudden death.
It had just felt like yesterday, when the two of you were just out on a date, laughing and giggling.
The world was mocking him, taunting and laughing, watching the hallow shell of the man he once was as he stood there alone in the cemetery. Flowers previously placed by your grave was removed and tossed away, replaced by a fresh bouquet of your favorite flowers.
The night you were buried under the willow tree, was the only night he had ever worked up the courage to sit by your grave, and wallow in the despair.
“I miss you,” the three words etched into his mind, quietly spoken into the empty void.
What about the plans you’ve made with him? The promises of a happy ending, a beautiful future.
Gone… all gone, far too soon.
“Will we get a cat too?” your voice was eager, full of hope.
Scaramouche smiled and pressed a small kiss to your temple. “Whatever you want.”
You giggled. “Let’s get a black cat then. I can see the resemblance between you and them.”
“Hey,” he whined.
You beamed up at him. “I love you.”
How he wished time could’ve stopped right there and then, allowing that precious moment to last for an eternity.
“I love you too.”
God, it was so fucking unfair. Why did you have to be the one to die?
It could’ve been anyone else, but you just had to be there at the wrong time.
He slumped down on the empty couch, cushions and throw blankets sitting in the same spot as before. Scaramouche didn’t dare touch anything. He was scared— terrified that if he even so as much move anything a centimeter away, he’ll lose the remaining parts of you that he had so desperately been trying to cling onto.
Scaramouche had already lost you once, he couldn’t lose you for a second time.
The soft golden glow of the ceiling lights flickered in and out for a brief moment, a sign that the electrical bill was long overdue. It was fortunate enough that the landlord took pity upon him and gave Scaramouche an extension to pay his bills.
3 months.
It’s been three whole months since the accident. Three months since he’s shut himself off from the outside world. Three months he spend crying and grieving, fantasizing scenarios of you and him. He knows it’ll never come true, but he can only hope.
Head barely above water, the bits of hope he has is all that’s supporting his weight, preventing him from drowning. Yet as the clock moves, he finds himself sinking lower and lower.
Two hollow knocks to his door startled him out of his trancelike state. “Who,” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.
When the answer was delivered with another two knocks, he spoke louder. “What.”
“Scaramouche,” the muffled voice of Childe floated through the thick wood. “Open the door.”
He scowled, body already moving before his mind had even processed Childe’s words. The door cracked open with a soft creak, a silver of the sunlight spilling into the dark house. Scaramouche squeezed his eyes closed, momentarily blinded by the light. It’s been so long since he’s seen the sun.
Childe’s shadow stepped in and blocked out the light. He gave Scaramouche a tired smile. “Archons you look like shit.”
Scaramouche said nothing and kept his silent gaze on him.
The ginger sighed. “I was hoping you’d come visit… them, with us.”
There were no names mentioned, yet Scaramouche almost instantly knew who Childe was referring to. He felt his body tense up.
“Look, I’m not trying to force you or anything, but we all miss them, and you too, ‘mouche… you haven’t talked with any of us in three month now.”
Guilt gnawed at his heart, eating away yet another piece.
He hadn’t meant to neglect his friends. None of the things he was doing was intentional.
“… I’m sorry,” he whispered, lowering his gaze, unable to keep eye contact with Childe. He fear that if he continued, tears would begin to formulate, and there’d be nothing to stop them from flowing.
“Mind if I come in?” Childe’s voice softened.
Scaramouche felt tears prickling at his eyes. Childe placed one hand on his shoulder, gently giving a pat— and that was what finally broke him. The water droplets fell uncontrollably, rolling down his cheeks. A pitiful sight to behold.
Childe pulled him into a hug and remained quiet. There wasn’t much he could say to comfort Scaramouche’s pain. Everyone was still grieving, him included.
His quiet sniffles slowly died down. Just this one time, he thought to himself, wiping away at a tear. It’s the least he can do.
“Let me get my things,” Scaramouche’s voice was hoarse. A pain-like expression was scrawled across his features as he pulled away from Childe and step back into the shadows of his home.
There wasn’t much he needed to do to get ready. He’d given up on life the moment he was given the news that you didn’t make it. Why he had been fighting for so long, he didn’t understand.
He threw on a simple black cardigan, it was a handmade gift from you to him. In your words, it took you a week and a half to make it— “i hope you’ll like it,” you said sheepishly.
Of course he’ll love it. Cherish it even till death.
He took in a deep breath and went to look for Childe. The medications stored in his pockets jangled against the hard plastic with each step he took.
The last strands of hope snapped, and he sunk. Bubbles floating to the surface as his darkened silhouette slowly disappeared under the void of water.
Tonight, he decided. Tonight, he’ll be able to see you again.
The lights sputtered out as Scaramouche flipped the switch. With the last bits of power it has, the lights illuminated the series of letter sprawled across the glass coffee table— each one address to someone dear to him.
Then it all went dark.
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✩ ·┆ masterlist
notes—
— this was fun to write
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© acaaai-t — do not plagiarize, repost, or translate
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