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zorosangell · 1 month ago

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⛥ﾟ・。 oiran

synopsis: while luffy and the others are off saving sanji, zoro is assigned the role of a ronin, and told to keep a low profile as he roams the land of wano... but he risks revealing himself and the entire crew when he discovers you're a nearby oiran, and in need of his rescue.

cw: lots and lots of fluff, comfort, zoro is down bad for reader, reader is super pretty, zoro does NOT play about you, took me hella long for some reason.

a/n: i took the song hell n back by summer walker as inspo for this

"Thanks," Zoro nodded with a smile, giving the boat owner a thankful nod as he took a box of sushi from him, quickly setting it down in his lap and cracking it open.

Though he had failed to notice the word WASABI written in bold on the side of the tray.

In his travels throughout the Flower Capital, Zoro had landed himself in a little bit of trouble, having been arrested for the crimes of a serial killer, and convicted as a murderer when he cut down a very important magistrate—who was the real culprit—at his own execution.

Luckily, after defeating the magistrate's followers and walking out the execution yard, he had managed to stumble across a literal sushi boat leaving one of the docks, which gave him the perfect means to escape.

While also offering the perfect opportunity for him to stuff his face.

Eager to eat, he picked up the first piece, which was topped with fresh salmon nigiri and salmon roe, the rice a little more green than the swordsman expected.

But he was too hungry to care, not giving it a second thought as he shoved the whole thing in his mouth.

An act he was quick to regret.

Cheeks puffed and nose scrunched, a bead of sweat trailed down his temple as his face contorted into an expression of discomfort.

'It burns!'

Frantic for something to cool his tongue, he snapped his head around, letting out small hums of muffled agony as he searched for his sake gourd.

Though the spiciness made him feel like his mouth was being seared by flames, most of the heat was moving upward toward the back of his nose, hitting his sinuses just enough to make his eyes water.

Typically, he enjoyed things that sat more on the bitter side, but he'd never imagined food could get this spicy.

Quickly grabbing his sake, he guzzled well over half of it, ignoring the two large streams running down the sides of his mouth as that was what finally stopped the burning.

But as he began to regain feeling in his mouth, he realized that the sushi piece itself actually tasted delicious, slightly smiling at the flavor.

'Looks like I'll just need a sake chaser.'

"My, my! Look at this!" the older man next to him gasped, marveling at a mysterious flyer in his hands. "To think that such a breath-taking beauty actually exists! It's unbelievable!"

Completely unbothered, Zoro went back to stuffing his face, following each bite with a huge gulp of sake.

Though his curiosity began to pique when the man continued to stare at the paper, almost as if he was hypnotized.

"What's unbelievable?" Zoro asked, muffled, as he gulped down another piece. "Hot!"

"An oiran nearby by the name of (f/n)! She's said to be one of the most beautiful women in the country!" the man answered, holding up the paper for the swordsman to see. "It's rumored that her beauty would give oiran Komurasaki a run for her money."

Zoro took another lazy swig of his gourd, brow raised as he flippantly glanced at the flyer, only for his eye to blow wide at the sight.

It was you, your features gracefully laid out and unmistakable in the detailed ink painting.

Surprised, Zoro spit out his mouthful of sake, shooting it directly into the face of a nearby patron.

"Hey! If you don't like wasabi, don't eat it! But I won't tolerate you spitting on other customers!" the owner of the boat shouted, brows furrowed as he glared at the swordsman. "Hold on! Have you even paid?!"

"Lemme see that!" Zoro growled, completely ignoring the owner as he snatched the flyer out of the old man's hands, looking at it closer.

It was indeed you, as radiant and stunning as he'd last seen, which was well over a month ago.

He wasn't told what identity you were assigned or where you were stationed—a precaution taken by Kin'emon as he'd seen throughout his travels how hell-bent the swordsman was on protecting you, and couldn't trust the man not to seek you out if he knew.

And, of course, his intuition would be right, as the paper suddenly began to crumple in Zoro's hand, his expression dropping into a deep scowl.

Zoro was dim, but he wasn't stupid.

During his time in the capital, he had managed to piece together what the whole oiran business was about.

He'd overheard the stories.

He'd seen the men.

It was nothing but an excuse for stuffy rich guys to gawk and leer at women, treating them like objects and products to be bought rather than actual people.

His fist clenched even tighter, veins bulging in his hand as it practically shook, nearly destroying the paper.

While eating out somewhere nice, he'd eavesdrop on some of the stories the men of higher status would tell, and to call their actions harassment would be a grave understatement.

He grit his teeth, attempting to fight off the swell of anger threatening to burst from his chest.

Just the thought of any man doing those things to you made his blood boil, and his hands itch for his swords.

Plan be damned, he wasn't gonna let anything happen to you on his watch.

Abruptly turning around, he yolked up the boat owner by the front of his yukata, the man letting out a fearful yelp as Zoro pulled him closer with a deadly glare.

He held out the crumpled flyer for the man to see, tone deadly serious and leaving no room for argument.

"Tell me where I can find her..."

"Care for some sake, sir?" a blonde-haired geisha asked, a slight flush on her cheeks as she approached Zoro, who was sitting rigidly on his tatami mat.

The man was certainly a sight, and every other girl in the room was having a hard time focusing on their clients with him sitting so close.

He was significantly more handsome than their typical patrons.

Pronounced jawline.

Clearly muscular physique.

Dark, bedroom eyes.

A dream come true for a woman in this profession.

"No, thank you," he curtly denied, not even bothering to look the girl in the eye.

But he had turned down every one of their advancements.

Yet, in all actuality, he wasn't even supposed to be there.

Once the boat owner told him where to find you, he immediately jumped ship, leaving behind some money to pay for his meal before landing on the riverbank.

He ran as fast as his legs could carry him with nightfall drawing ever closer, as he knew that was when red-light districts were at their most busy.

And only after mugging a few rich guys—using their money to pay the exorbitant entrance fee—did he finally gain access to your room, entering himself under the guise of a wealthy samurai.

Then, he laid in wait, watching with a certain disdain as the other men practically jumped the other girls, getting particularly handsy particularly quick.

But he did his best to ignore it, instead focusing on the fact that you had yet to arrive, worry beginning to spike in his veins as he had been sitting there for thirty minutes, with little to no sign of you at all.

"Hey," he called, snappily, snatching the girl out of her lovesick stupor. "When the hell is the oiran comin' out?"

Visibly, her shoulders dropped, a pout settling on her painted lips as she finally caught the message, now understanding why he was so cold toward everyone else.

He was waiting for her.

'Much like the rest of the men that pass through nowadays...'

Sucking up her slight annoyance, she faced the man with a polite smile, fixing her grip on the tray of liquor.

"Oiran (f/n) will be—"

"Lords! And esteemed samurai of Wano!" an older woman suddenly exclaimed, seeming to appear out of nowhere, utterly elated.

Zoro snapped his attention away from the girl, eye zeroing in on the door the madam was standing in front of.

He could sense you standing just behind it, and was fighting off the all-encompassing urge to bust it down and drag you away from the place.

"It is with great honor that the Ogimoto House presents to you our very own shining star... oiran (f/n)!"

As the door slammed open, a woman in the corner suddenly began to play the shamisen, the other girls joining together to gracefully dance as you made your entrance, carefully stepping into the light.

And once Zoro caught sight of you, nearly all the air was knocked out of his lungs.

You were a vision.

Your hair was tied in a both simple yet elaborate updo, adorned with several golden, gem-encrusted hairpins, two small strands of hair falling before your ears.

Your kimono was heavily layered, but richly decorated with bold greens and intricate embroidery that accented the fabric's dragon design—the most prominent one, ironically, missing its left eye, much like your swordsman.

Your makeup was surprisingly simple for an oiran, more focused on accentuating your natural features, while offering small pops of color to your cheeks.

Zoro's heart added another beat to its pattern, feeling as if the skin on his chest was tightening over itself, rendering him unable to breath.

Just being able to look at you brought him an embarrassing amount of happiness.

Lowering your fan, you flashed the men a coy smile, their eyes quite literally turning into hearts at the sight.

"Sorry for the delay," you simpered, gracefully walking into the room.

Because of traditional oiran etiquette, it was impossible for you to move faster than a mile an hour, but that only added to the appeal as that made it seem as if you were floating through the air.

Calculated, your eyes scanned over the crowd, analyzing each face within the room.

You'd recognized a few of the usual suspects—rich, thirsty men who would fall over themselves trying to catch your attention—and noticed a few new faces—skeptical types who wanted to see if the rumors of your looks were true.

But one man among them all stuck out to you.

You'd recognize that head of hair anywhere...

Internally, you let out a sigh, fighting off the wide smile threatening to break out on your face.

'He just can't follow directions, can he?'

Your swordsman.

Though you two had only been apart for about a month, give or take, you couldn't help but allow your heart to swell with joy at seeing him again.

Countless nights you'd found yourself pining over the man, missing his presence by your side.

His genuine, obnoxious laugh.

His funny, snarky remarks.

His drunken, horrible flirting.

His bad habit of resting his hand on your hip, keeping you tethered to his side.

All that was why you found your feet carrying you over to his mat, entire body burning at the intensity of his stare and the cockiness of his smirk.

"May I join you, sir?" you asked, slyly, biting back the grin threatening to crack on your lips. "I don't believe I've seen you here before."

He let out a quiet chuckle, perfectly fine with playing along, so long as he was your only customer.

"Be my guest," he greeted, his hand instinctively coming up to pat his thigh.

You typically sat in his lap when you two were alone, but he was so excited to see you, he didn't really care.

Though, when your eyes flashed him a scolding look, his hand halted in mid-air, brow raising in confusion.

You glanced toward the other patrons discreetly, taking notice that they all were still watching intently, before turning your attention back to your swordsman.

'We can't do that here, dumbass,' your expression said. 'You're gonna blow my cover.'

It finally hit him, and he nodded with an adorably vacant look.

'My bad,' he backed off.

"Oiran (f/n)!" a man suddenly shouted from across the room, grabbing everyone's attention as he bustled to his feet and scrambled toward you. "Oiran (f/n)!"

Despite your confusion, you turned to him with a warm look, masking your apprehension.

"Yes, Sir Kyoguro?" you asked.

You'd recognized the man from a few of his previous visits, and you made a point to remember every name you met, in case they could be of use to you later.

"I must say, I am bewitched by your beauty, absolutely enthralled by your grace, and in awe of your poise!"

You pretended to be abashed by the comments, slightly hiding yourself behind your fan.

"Sir Kyoguro, you flatter me."

Zoro nearly gagged, rolling his eyes at the sight.

He knew you were faking it, seeing as you'd just given him a real reaction only moments ago, but that didn't mean he had to like it.

"(f/n)!" the man eagerly lurched forward, taking your hand in his. "I am utterly taken with you. I see no other woman that can take your place in my heart!"

You fought off a grimace, smiling down uneasily at the stranger, who seemed to have found it in his right to touch you without your permission.

Zoro, on the other hand, was less than pleased.

Arms tightly crossed over his chest, his gripped his yukata, occupying his hands to prevent himself from shooting up and severely hurting the man.

It was painfully obvious that you were uncomfortable, yet you seemed to be taking it in stride.

How many other interactions had you had like this one?

How many men have touched you without your say so?

How many times have you had to hide your distress behind a kind smile?

'Bastard...'

He grit his teeth, fingers tightening painfully into a fist.

"This is why... I want you to marry me!"

Your entire world scratched to halt, Zoro's eye widening at the words.

"I-I beg your pardon?" you weakly stuttered, utterly shocked, praying you heard him wrong.

"I've already paid off your contract and then some. So tonight we leave for the Flower Capital! There we will be wed! And we'll finally be able to start our lives together!"

Your heart practically sank to your feet, the very thought making you shiver under your skin.

It was unheard of for an oiran to get a marriage proposal just within a month of working, much less one where the client pays well over the asking price.

Kin'emon telling you that fact was the only thing reassuring you throughout this whole endeavor.

As cheesy as it was, you had no intention of marrying anyone else in this world other than Zoro, whether the wedding was real or not.

But it wasn't like you could outright say no, or simply run away.

You'd blow your cover that way, and the others needed you to find out everything you could from the nobles of Wano.

'Of all people, why did this have to happen to me?'

It was safe to say... you were shitting your pants.

In a desperate attempt to debunk this, you turned to the madam, but she gave you a proud thumbs up, nodding in concurrence.

'Fuck!'

"And while we're on the topic... please forgive me if this comes off too vulgar for your delicate ears," the man leaned in closer, whispering so only you could catch it.

You shivered, terrified of what nonsense he might say.

"Once we reach the Flower Capital, I must insist that we start the process of producing an heir at once. My family is in great need of one, you see? And we need to start his upbringing right away."

You nearly laughed at the statement, eyes wide, nearly disbelieving of the words that just left his mouth.

There's no way he just said that...

But he did.

And Zoro heard him loud and clear.

And right then and there was when the swordsman decided the time for sitting idly by was over, plan be damned—Traffy could make another one.

It'd be a cold day in hell before he ever let you get married to some pervert for some mission, much less have a kid with him.

Silently, Zoro stood up from his mat, rising to his full height ominously quiet.

The entire room suddenly turned their attention to him, you included, your lips letting out a faint gasp as you caught a glimpse of his eyes, which were darkened with malice.

You recognized the look instantly... and you knew it spelled trouble.

'Oh, no...'

Your swordsman clenched his fist, grabbing the air as if it were one of his swords, before winding up his arm for a swing.

"Zoro, please... he didn't mean anything by it... we'll figure something out, alright?" you tried to calm him down, completely ignoring the fact that you used his real name, and the fact that it was completely inappropriate to talk to a customer that way.

You were more preoccupied with making sure he didn't kill anybody.

But his mind was already made up.

Suddenly, a dark, shiny substance coated his arm from his fingertips to his elbow, emanating a menacing, purple glow.

'HA!'

If he was using his haki, there was no point in talking anymore.

You sighed, exasperatingly rolling your eyes, giving up on any hopes of calming him down and simply waiting for the inevitable.

"No Sword Style... Tatsumaki!"

Faster than everyone else could see, he swung his arm through the air, creating a giant, aggressive air funnel that knocked the sniveling man before you out cold—the winds so harsh that it blew the hairpins right out your hair and tore through the roof of the house, letting in the torrential downpour from outside.

While everyone was distracted, Zoro scooped you up in his arms, bridal style, your yelp of surprise snatching back their attention.

"Hey!" the madam shouted, furious. "You put her down this instant!"

"I'm stealing the woman!" Zoro announced, running right past her and out the exit, snatching up the large sack of money the man left. "And the cash!"

"Don't tell them that!" you lightly smacked him in the chest, laughing, as you wrapped your arms around his neck, the pelting rain forcing your loose hair to stick to your face.

Breaking down the door to the exit, your swordsman sprinted out toward the dirt road, the owner of the house along with your other loyal followers chasing you both outside.

"Get back here!"

"Where are you going with the oiran?!"

"You can't take her!"

"Someone stop him!"

"Oiran (f/n)! We'll save you!"

As if you needed saving...

"Y'know, most guys say hi, how are ya before kidnapping a girl from her house," you teased, turning to your swordsman.

"Most girls typically say thank you after being saved from an arranged marriage," he countered, his trademark cocky grin plastered on his face.

"What other girls are you saving?" you playfully huffed, brows furrowing as you tugged at his cheek.

Amused, Zoro let out a small chuckle, rolling his eyes.

He'd missed you... desperately.

Looking over your shoulder, you checked to see if the men were still chasing you, happy to see that they had given up, all of them stopping and turning back toward the house.

'So much for loyal...'

Pushing the thought to the side, you suddenly cupped your swordsman's face in your hands, thumb softly gliding over his cheekbone.

"I missed you," you smiled up at him, sincerely, taking a moment to re-familiarize yourself with his face.

You'd missed him... desperately.

And the man seemed even handsomer than you remembered.

Finally a decent distance away from the house, Zoro stopped in his tracks, pulling over right in the middle of the road.

"Stand on my feet," he stated, shifting his grip to put you down.

You were only wearing tabi socks, and he didn't want you to get muddy feet.

Following his instructions, you stepped carefully onto the tops of his feet, his hands sliding down to your hips to balance you.

Though, once he was sure you were steady, he didn't hesitate in pulling you flush against him and smashing his lips against yours.

Your eyes widened, slightly surprised by the sudden movement, before you instantly melted into his embrace, relishing the way his strong arms felt wrapped around you.

He kissed you like he was famished, like you were water in his desert, his blunt fingertips having a near bruising grip on your hips.

Moments like these made him wonder what life would be like if the two of you didn't have to split up every two fucking seconds.

Pulling you even closer, he only deepened the kiss, his eagerness electrifying you right down to your core.

Emotional displays of this magnitude... coming from him?

In public?

You never thought you'd see the day.

Pulling back with a soft pop, you took a moment to catch your breath, unable to fight off the stupid smile settling on your lips.

"I should get married off more often," you chuckled, breathlessly, resting your hands on his chest for purchase.

He scoffed, scooping you up again before going back to running, hoping to find somewhere to shelter you both from the rain.

Glancing down at your smug grin, he smirked, rolling his eyes before placing a quick peck on your forehead.

"Don't push it."

#one piece #one piece x reader #roronoa #roronoa x reader #roronoa zoro #roronoa zoro x reader #zoro #zoro x reader #zorosangell #op

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princesssmars · 1 year ago

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thinking of karlach who once her engine cools off goes fucking ballistic. nsfw, fem! reader, me being horny for karlach because who isn't. baldur's gate 3 spoilers! i've only finished act one so i start improvising shit.

now, for a woman who has not been able to have even a hint of physical contact for ten years, you have to give her her flowers with how well she seems to deal with being incredibly emotionally and sexually frustrated.

but once she joins your party that hold she had over her body and brain starts to crack. fast.

hell, it started happening before the two of you became romantically involved. while she was drawn to you from the moment you said "yes" to helping a stranger kill a building full of people, she also had eyes and constantly wondered how everyone in the party was so attractive. astarion was never not flirting with someone, wyll was incredibly kind to her, and she could tell when shadowheart was admiring her physique...

but after a few weeks of traveling, fighting, and making friends for the first time in years, eventually during those quiet nights at camp she finds you invading her mind her mind when she rests in her tent to fall asleep, kind of like the parasite, but in a good way.

she thinks of a joke you you made when the two of you were eating by the fire that made her snort like a pig, the way you explored a dungeon and when you found a magical war axe immediately turned to her and gave it to her with a smile, how you so quickly stood up for her when wyll was adamant on killing her because of her past.

your kindness, your intelligence (she's amused when you act like a dumbass and fail when trying to persuade someone), just everything about you, it was only a matter of time before she asked you to join her when everyone fell asleep one night, talking about how you thankfully return her feelings. it takes a turn when you bring up how her condition leaves her pent up, and as you're whispering the sinful things you cant wait to do to her and she do to you.

it hits her full force that oh, she does actually want to fuck your brains out.

after that night everything you do starts to turn her on. like, horrendously. eating a snack on the road? all she can focus on is the way your lips move around the fruit. dancing to a song volo is playing? she's becoming entranced by the way your hips and arms move to the music.

once when the sun was set and the moon was high she headed down to the lake, figuring the rest of the party had already cleaned themselves when she started to undress on the sand, standing still as a statue when she spots you in the middle of the lake, rinsing out your hair when you turn around to look at her.

she can see the water falling from your hair to your shoulders, dripping down over the peak of your nipples, some falling down your chest to between yours legs-

when she comes back later after running off, the ground where she stood was scorched.

but until her engine got fixed, her nights were spent inside her tent rubbing at her clit and fingering her cunt while pretending it was you. the only thing that makes it better is when she can tell you about all the naughty things she thinks about you and seeing you squirm.

once dammon gets another piece of infernal iron and gives her the final upgrade she needs to have physical contact, she at least has the courtesy to take you to a rented room in an inn before she ravages you.

shes tossing you on to the bed and wondering if she should slow down, take it slow with you for your first time together to make it all the more special, but you're staring at her while she's contemplating and youre taking off your top and then youre pants and then youre pulling her by the arm on top of you and she realizes she can save the softness for later.

there's so much kissing, pulling, biting and moaning that after both of your first two orgasms she starts to feel dizzy. she swears shes never felt a greater pleasure than when you were cumming on her fingers, or when you brought her hips up to your face and made her ride your tongue.

she reaches down to your bag that was throw haphazardly on to the floor earlier and finds the toy you bought, the tiefling smiling so brightly her fangs are on full display as she aligns the double sided dildo with your entrance, nearly going cross eyed at the way it slips inside of you before she sticks the other end into her.

she throws your legs over her shoulders, hold your hands in hers, and starts thrusting so quickly its almost like she's afraid she'll die if she stops.

and she is. she has never felt as good as she does in this moment, fucking the toy into you before feeling it do the same to her every time she pulls her hips back.

shes thinking about how much she loves you when she feels your right hand claw at her back.

shes wondering how someone can be so damn beautiful when you arch your back and nearly scream out her name.

she can barely contain herself when she thinks about how she gets to fuck you like this for the rest of her life when her hand leaves yours and grabs onto the wooden bedpost.

your moans of ecstasy reach a pitch and her eyes are taking in every detail as you come undone, to the heaving of your chest and the fluttering of your lashes. its your gentle whisper of her name and a gentle kiss to her lips that tips her over the edge, grinding her hips faster to the point it starts to hurt and she feels her hands tightening and tightening-

her high feels like it lasts forever before she comes back down to earth, breathing heavy with a dopey smile on her face when she looks at you. she's confused by the look on your face, similarly blissed out but your cheeks are bunched up in that way that means youre trying to hold in a laugh...

its only then she starts to feel it : a large chunk of the headboard is in her hand, snapped almost clean off from the rest of in im the height of her euphoria. she cant help but laugh which makes you finally laugh which just makes you laugh harder.

she drops the wood and shakes her hand of any splinters when your hands are wrapping around her neck and pulling her back into you.

she doesn't feel that bad about it.

i've resorted to getting ideas from both dreams and those thoughts you turn into stories while trying to go to sleep im like a genius. i put this in the queue posted it and it only showed up on my blog whats with that.

#bg3 #bg3 tav #bg3 x reader #bg3 karlach #baldurs gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur's gate 3 #tav x karlach #karlach x tav #karlach #karlach x reader #karlach x reader smut

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sylviathejester · 3 months ago

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TIRED.

maybe it’s time to say goodbye, ‘cause i’m getting pretty fuckin’ tired.

PLATONIC!JOHN PRICE x TEENAGER!GN!Y/N

warnings: mentions of death, foster care (this is my first time writing about foster care, excuse me if there’s any imperfections), attempted suicide, slight swearing

author note: this is separate from the poll. please tell me if the spacing is a turn off, it’s for aesthetic purposes in this oneshot, slowing your reading like Y/N’s world momentarily stills at the thoughts.

word count: 859.

Death. You’ve been thinking about it for days on end, what does it feel like? Your foster father, Jonathan (or as everyone calls him, John), says it’s Cold. Chilling. Scary. But what if it isn’t? Some people die with a smile on their face, so perhaps it could be the same for you?

Foster family after foster family. Abusive, neglectful piece of shits who only foster for the money. You’re afraid John might be the same.

The poor man, however, actively tries to convince you he isn’t like them. He does movie nights every Saturday, he actually listens when you talk, every word you say doesn’t go unnoticed. And his efforts don’t go unnoticed by you, not at all. He’s gentle. He’s a gentle man.

But you’ve had enough.

You’re scared shitless, some families acted like they were “mental health advocates” until you showed signs of burnout, depression, and even a tinge of anger issues, that’s when they threw you away.

And you’re just at your limit with John. The mask is.. slowly.. cracking.

John’s been a sweet guy, and he does everything in his power to make you feel okay, safe, happy. But you don’t budge. But you don’t show that you’re not budging, you show him a happy person, someone you’re not. And you’re getting tired.

”Mama was a bit naïve, and her daddy was a blinded thief. He went and stole away what was left of the remains of a family. “ Another Empty Bottle by Katy McAllister plays, you forgot the last time you heard this song, but it was one of your favorites when you were younger, more innocent, unaware of the shit going on between biological Mom and Dad. Unaware of the abuse. Perhaps your soul always felt like something was wrong, and your brain caught up later.

You sit on the couch, the TV on. You briefly look at the movement, the show must be some silly romcom, how cute.

Your phone’s music and the TV served as background noise, initially done to shut away the thoughts, but they’re.. lingering..

John was out of the house, buying groceries. He tried to persuade you to tag along; “You haven’t been out the house for a couple of weeks now, Y/N. you better go out!” He said, in that sickly sweet and kind voice of his. But you insisted on staying. Being tired from staying up was your excuse, and he let you off.

You paused the music and turned off the TV, and laid down on the couch, staring at the ceiling. It wouldn’t hurt to.. at least try. If he comes back before you actually do it, you can act like you never even tried, it’d be fine.

And if you succeeded?

But wouldn’t he be upset? Sad? He’d feel like he failed you. He never did, he never will.

He’d understand, surely he will.

Suddenly, you find yourself in the kitchen, in front of the knives John kept hanging on a shelf. For some reason he leaves them out in the open.

You grab the sharpest one, or rather, the newest knife. You look at it, and your reflection stares right back, as if to plead with you to not do it, think about it.

You ignore its pleas.

You slowly place the knife right under your wrist. Your breathing’s heavy, your heartbeat’s accelerated.

Should I do it? Should I do it?

Should I-

Warmth, but not from your wrist.

Your shoulder? Is it the grim reaper paying a visit?

You look over slowly, and your stomach drops. It’s John.

You look behind him, the grocery bags are on the floor, the different things he bought scattered across the floor.

“Hey.” He speaks a little louder, which causes you to look at him. He puts two fingers under your chin, keeping it in place.

He slowly takes the knife from your hand, sliding it across the counter; away from your hands.

“Are you okay?” Fuck, fuck, fuck.

Warmth, but not from your wrist.

Your eyes? You must be going blind.

Warmth, but not from your wrist.

Throughout your body, are you in Heaven?

No, you’re in John’s arms. Maybe that’s your own, twisted little version of Heaven. Isn’t Heaven the place where you feel eternal peace? John gives you peace, albeit not as eternal as Heaven, but he’s your Heaven on Earth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry-“ You sob into his chest. He merely shushes you, running his hand up and down your back.

It’s 11PM. You and John are on the couch, you’re holding onto him like a koala hugging a tree. It’s been silent.

“What made you want to do it?” He breaks the silence as he whispers the dreaded question.

“John, do you- will you still want me here?” You look at him.

Silence.

“Pardon?” He raises a brow.

“Will you still want me here? You won’t- give me back, right?” You look at him: expectant, hopeful.

“Of course not, Y/N.” He hugged you a little tighter. “You’re stuck with me.”

Maybe he won’t leave like the others did.

At the realization, the world felt a little brighter.

#call of duty #cod mw2 #cod #cod modern warfare #cod mwii #captain john price x reader #john price x reader #captain john price #john price #task force 141 #tf141 #SYLVIA’S WORKS.#call of duty fanfic #call of duty price #cod captain price #captain price #captain price x reader #cod angst

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mieldreams · 3 months ago

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Payal

Summary: Anakin Skywalker is the roommate of your best friend's crush. That's all. Well, he's also a pain in the ass. But could one dance and a lucky pair of payal change things?

pairing: Anakin Skywalker x desi!reader (or just reader who's familiar/involved with that culture, no physical descriptions involved)

Warnings: None, except for 'i haven't proofread a single fucking thing' :) sorry for the mistakes in advance.

A/n: wrote something on a whim again (this is the first ever time I've written a proper fanfic tho *_*). Happy navratri y'all

Edit: Here's some payal playbacks aka any moodboard/refs if you want to know (songs, outfits, word meanings etc.)

It was Navratri, the festival in honour of the Goddess Durga. Nine nights of colours, prayers, and a whole lot of dancing. Oh, and the sweets! You couldn't wait to just rot your teeth on those festive delicacies.

It was the 5th night of festivities and today's celebrations were mainly the daily prayer and the dandiya dance. The special event for today however, was the ladies' dance competition. Your best friend had practically dragged your ass to get your name registered along with hers and your other friend Pari's, a half-assed promise of treating you to your favourite food at that fancy restaurant on the other side of the city to bribe you into the elaborate bollywood-esque romance scheme to seduce her crush. "There's no seducing!" she whisper-shouted, standing at the booth where you had to give your name, her cheeks immediately heating up at your insinuation. "I just want him to... see me, you know?" and you couldn't help but mentally scoff at that, why was she so blind? "Plus the price is money," she added, smirking as she picked up the pen to write down the names.

"Well shit, you should've said that first girl, I'm always looking to make me some moolah" your smirk matching hers even though your brain was already exhausted just *thinking* about the hours of practice she was gonna make you do to make sure everything was perfect to the T. That was over a week back, and after hours of choreographing and practising and picking out the costumes, the day was here, and despite all the whining you had done during practice, you couldn't deny that you actually hoped that her plan worked. Was it because you were tired of your oblivious best friend and her equally oblivious man playing dog and the bone with their feelings? Nooo, you could never be tired of your darling best friend's endless rants about how 'handsome he looked at the cafeteria today, in his lucky white cashmere sweater his ex-grandma gifted him in 2019' (how did she know that?) or how 'it's so sad his little sister's goldfish died because it jumped into the pot of boiling water for tea, and they've invited us to its funeral' (what?). And it most definitely wasn't because you were starting to get sick of having to watch them make those nauseating googly eyes at each other every time you hung out, for the past year. (though you wondered if it would only get worse when they finally got together.)

That's right, when, because if those two failed to get their ship sailing after tonight, you were 100% planning on just walking up to each of them, asking them what time they're free for dinner and setting them up on a date yourself. Your mental planning however, was disrupted by the creaking of the metal gate to the lawn space that had been rented for the festival. You turned around, a smile immediately pulling on your lips at the sight of the said man you were downright ready to shake like a maraca till your best friend got her deserved confession (though you expected the same on her end as well, of course). But the smile immediately fell at the sight of another man walking in right behind him. Anakin. What the hell was he doing here? And truly, the scowl that pulled on your face was hardly your fault when his eyes met yours and his lips immediately turned up into that infuriating smirk as the two of them headed towards you. But before you could march up to him and demand why he was here, your best friend ran up to you, gripping your arm to stop herself from crashing into you (you supposed the accidental intervention was for the better, since asking him such a thing might only give him more reason to mock you, it was obvious he was here with Krish, your best friend's crush who was also very unfortunately college roommates with Anakin, seriously how did someone as sweet as that guy get stuck with a moron like him?).

"C'mon it's time for the competition to start, ours is literally the second performance!" She started to drag you by the arm only to stop immediately at the sight of Krish causing you to crash into her. "Are we sure you can dance in the competition when you can hardly manage to walk without stumbling?" his voice immediately caused you to raise your head, glaring daggers as you squared up to throw your own taunt about how he just had to be oh so special and wear black even though tonight's theme was white. Unfortunately, you were beaten by Krish as he elbowed Anakin harshly in the rib, making you snicker at his grunt of pain, before walking even closer towards your best friend. "Aamani... hi," Krish breathed out, shifting his weight from one foot to another. And though you wanted to roll your eyes at how his eyes seemed to literally twinkle as he looked at your best friend, or how he always took time to call her by her full name despite all her friends calling her Manu, like he just had to say it every time to even begin to appreciate her entire being that he was so clearly besotted with, you couldn't help the small smirk that tugged on your lips as you gently pried your arm out of her death grip. (when the hell did she get so strong?) ‘Let's leave them to it, then.’ You thought to yourself.

And with that you walked away towards the small stage, knowing they'd most likely not see or hear anything besides the other person for at least the next half hour. "They're not gonna leave each other's side for the rest of the night, are they?" Ugh, Anakin. How had you forgotten? and now he was following you. Great. "Well, they wouldn't normally, but we do have to perform our dance and we're up second, which means the lovebirds will have to sacrifice at least half an hour for final practice and the performance." Hold on, why were you entertaining him? You stopped suddenly and turned to him with a scowl, "and I'll have you know I can dance very well and I-" "Is that why you're wearing red? for the dance? I thought the theme was white today," the audacity this man had to interrupt you. "Oh did you? Is that why you instead wore black?" you popped a hip with a closed fist resting on your hipbone, raising a jeering eyebrow at him, his eyes immediately drawn to the movement and indirectly your exposed midriff and then the shiny white stud in your belly button. He gulped before quickly averting his eyes to the stage behind you. "I think they announced that they're gonna be starting the competition soon," he replied instead.

Oh shit.

"Good luck" was all he said before walking away towards the audience gathering up for the performances. Oh shit, you really had to find your best friend fast.

Half an hour later with your costumes readjusted and makeup re-touched you were ready to get on stage. You weren't worried about messing up as much as you were about not keeping the same amount of energy for the next half an hour. That's right, your original plans of going mostly unnoticed as your best friend's supporting dancer for a mere 4-5 minutes went down the drain the minute she blabbered about you being a dancer as a kid to the aunty from down the block who was arranging her own group dance performance and immediately downright ordered you to join her group as well. At the time you didn't mind much but now, now you were wondering if you could pretend to sprain your ankle after your first performance to avoid the other one. I mean a whole half an hour of continuous dancing? and worse, the traitor that was your best friend wasn't in the second one and so you'd been entirely alone with a bunch of strangers during the first few practice sessions. (you knew it wasn't her fault the lady didn't ask her to join but you were sure she might have accommodated another person considering it was a big dance number) So here you were now, about 30 seconds away from getting on stage, sending a quick prayer that you don't throw up at any point considering they were pretty much back-to-back dances. As soon as you heard your group being announced the three of you walked onto the stage to get in your positions. You used the brief gap before the music started to scan the huge crowd, immediately spotting Krish almost at the very front of the audience, closest to where Manu was standing, but Anakin wasn't beside him like you expected. Your eyes continuing their scan to find him in the crowd before you even realised what you were doing. Wait, why the hell are you looking for him? You need to focus on the count before the music starts.

And as soon as the music started your body naturally moved to the rhythm and beat, a light laughter bubbling in your chest as you felt the stress melt away with each step. You had forgotten just how fun being on stage actually was, and with the atmosphere of such joy and celebration it was that much livelier. Before you know it, the performance was over, Krish walking quickly to the side of the stage as you got off, still high on the adrenaline and euphoria of performing after so long, and everything had gone smoothly too. It was hard to keep the smile off your face, even more so when you saw Manu and Krish talk animatedly at the bottom of the stairs to the stage, her head thrown back, laughing at something he said and then nodding enthusiastically with a toothy grin. Her expression changing to that of shock for a brief second as Krish immediately picks her up to twirl her around, her laughter dancing in the cold night air once again. It was only your obnoxiously loud teasing whistle that broke their bubble, though only temporarily. You had to go back on stage in five minutes and you wanted to make sure that Manu had company since you wouldn't be by her side for at least the next half an hour. Though realistically you knew it was her who wouldn't be by your side for the rest of the night. Ah, young love... or whatever.

"So now that the two of you have finally been cured of your obliviosis, have fun kiddos," you smirked, "and make sure to be safe." You winked at the pair, earning you a half-hearted angry call of your name from Manu as Krish let out an awkward nervous chuckle, burying his face into her shoulder. Aww, you had embarrassed them. "What? I'm just saying, have her back by 11." you gave a pointed look at him to which he immediately straightened up, enthusiastically nodding to your words while Manu continued to glare at you. "Back by 11? What am I in middle school?" "If you were in middle school I'd want you home by 9 miss, just what the hell sorta parents did you have?" You looked down at your watch realising your 5-minute break was nearing its end. "Okay lovebirds, I gotta go, but seriously have her home safe if you guys decide to leave the ground," you said pointing a finger at Krish, "and you," your finger pointing at Manu now, "don't forget to text me when you're leaving and when you get back home, alright?" She left his arms to quickly walk up the stairs to the top where you stood, pulling you into a bear hug as she rocked you side to side without even giving you a chance to hug her back as she held your arms at your sides, "I'll text you." She freed you from the hug to squeeze your palms in hers, "I had a lot of fun with the dance, thank you. And good luck with your next dance, sorry I won't be there to watch it, I mean we could stay till it gets over. we'll have the rest of the night anyway. Hey Krish, maybe we should stay for–"

But you immediately cut her off, "absolutely not, you've been looking forward to this day for almost a whole month now." You shook your head as you saw her open her mouth to argue, "plus I know you have that scarf you knitted for him in your bag." you smirked as her eyes went wide with surprise, not having expected you to know that. "Pulling that lovely 'oh it's a cold night, isn't it? Here, I just so happen to have this beautiful scarf that I definitely didn't knit just for you, here, let me wrap it around your beautiful neck. Oh no, you don't have to give it back to me at the end of the night, I have a matching one at home that I totally didn't plan as a couple’s thing, no seriously you can keep it' on him? There couldn't be a better opportunity." You laughed as her ears became bright red, "I hate you and your Nancy Drew observation skills." she mumbled out of puffed cheeks before immediately pulling you into another hug. "I love you. Good luck." "Thanks, I love you." In the end, you were about 2 minutes late to your dance and the aunty's scary face as she hurriedly signalled you to get into your position made you cringe on the inside, but oh well whatever, there were so many people you doubted that anyone had noticed there was supposed to be another dancer. You were here now anyway. You were halfway through the dance, your back turned to the audience when you felt a sharp gaze on you. Weird, there were about 100 people watching you, why did you feel this one particular stare stand out? It was only when you completed the circle to turn to face the audience again that you immediately connect gazes with the sharp eyes you had felt on you. Anakin. He was standing at the very back, close to the water coolers and refreshment tables, leaning on one of the empty tables with his arms crossed. His gaze never leaving yours. For a second your thoughts drifted and you were annoyed at how good he looked in the black shimmery kurta, though the top 3 buttons being left unbuttoned was so unnecessarily extra. The sleeves folded over his forearms that stretched the fabric, his collarbones standing out from the open collar. Such a slut. But damn did he look fine. Wait, what the hell? Focus, focus, focus. You couldn't lose count mid-step. And tripping right now would mess up everyone's steps since it was a circular movement. Why the hell would you trip over him anyway? Ugh. And so you focused back on your steps, continuing to feel that strange unwavering gaze on you for the rest of your dance.

Half an hour later, you were entirely done with the dance competition. Your feet hurt, your stomach was grumbling every few seconds and you were sure you'd be getting a headache from being so close to the speakers for so long. Thankfully, the emcee had announced a short break for refreshments and such, before the rest of the dances and then the final event to end the night — the dandiya dance. Were you positively exhausted and maybe even getting real tired of all the dancing and loud music? Most definitely. But Manu had texted you saying they'd be back for the final dandiya dance and you were really hoping to get to dance at least once with her, you know, outside the competition, just for funsies sort of stuff. So your irritation? Nothing some tasty snacks and maybe a cold drink couldn't solve. That was until an unfortunately familiar face came into your view as he plopped into the seat right next to yours at the circular table. Not the two other tables that were entirely empty (wasn't he supposed to be some emo loner who preferred to sulk in a corner?) or even the chair on the other side of the table (though you wondered if having him directly in your line of sight would make it worse). But no, he just had to sit right next to you with his stupid pretty eyes purposefully not meeting yours and his annoying plump lips innocently wrapping around the spoon with a piece of gulab jamun on it. He didn't even like sweets.

"Um— what the hell?" "What?" he looked at you with doe eyes rounded in innocence, and your eyes narrowed in suspicion. "Nothing, never mind," you were too tired and too hungry to start anything right now and what would you even ask, 'Why the hell are you sitting next to me?' 'didn't know there was some rule telling me where I can sit' is what he'd say, maybe roll his eyes at you, the usual stuff. So you continued eating your puff pastry in silence. Until you just had to ask, "I thought you didn't like sweets?" You tried to make your voice sound as non-judgemental as possible, you were only curious after all. "And who told you that?" he raised an eyebrow at you. Truthfully, nobody. But you had noticed the way he always avoided the dessert table at parties and functions, the way he only drank his coffee black; not even your best friend's infamous black forest cake that she had made for Krish's birthday a few months back had tempted him to even grab a Yolanda-approved bite. Yolanda would certainly be proud. Obviously, this had nothing to do with you observing him particularly, you just observed a lot of things around you, and he just very unfortunately happened to be around you a lot, being Krish's roommate and 'brotha from anotha motha' or whatever they said. And yet, here he was eating a freaking gulab jamun that was absolutely dripping with the sugary-est syrup. Did he hit his head on the way or something?

"Did you hit—" "I ran into Krish and Aamani, she told me to give this to you," he interrupted you yet again, turning to face you and pulling out a long silver chain-like thing, which upon a closer look you realised with an elated gasp, was the missing half of your lucky pair of payal, the one you'd been looking for everywhere earlier that evening. "I thought these came in pairs," it was a question from the tone with which he said it, but his eyes remained fixated on the jewellery in his hands, thumb running over the delicate silver with a gentleness you didn't know he possessed. You lifted the hem of your skirt a little, head tilting down to point at your left ankle, "they do. I just couldn't find the other one." You shook your head, going back to taking a sip of your drink, "I like the sound they make when you dance, it's fun, so I thought ek hai toh ek hi sahi," catching his questioning gaze you translated, "if there's only one then so be it, I hardly ever get to wear these anyway." You shrugged, "Manu must've found it later and forgotten to give it to me earlier. I think their dating honeymoon phase is gonna be worse than their not-dating honeymoon phase" You rolled your eyes affectionately, expecting him to make a teasing remark too or at least give you that amused smirk. Instead you saw him give an almost imperceptible yet decisive nod, quickly sliding off his chair to kneel in front of you. "What are you-" He gently lifted your right foot onto his folded knee, his nimble fingers making quick work of the clasp on your anklet. Your stomach fluttered as you felt the warmth of his hands on your cold bare ankle, and you were sure if you still had that sip of cold drink in your mouth, your lungs would be burning from snorting it down the wrong pipe, and definitely not because he might've stolen your breath. His fingers skimmed in a barely there touch down your foot. Till now, his gaze had been entirely focused on clasping the jewellery but now that he was done he lifted his head, looking directly into your eyes from his still kneeling position, your faces a few inches apart. This time you could feel your heart burn. Dang, maybe you should cut down on the greasy food and drinks. His gaze briefly shifted to your lips, but then he quickly got up, dusting off his pants, picking up his empty gulab jamun cup, throwing a quick, "I'mgonnagothrowthis" over his shoulder and then he was gone. He quickly disappeared into the crowds while you still sat there, entirely motionless. Your mind blank except for the phantom feeling from his feather touch on your skin.

It was finally time for the last round of dancing. You had run into Manu and Krish while carrying your trash to the bin, the emptiness of your thoughts completely overthrown by the excited shout of your name. You were surprised they had spotted you first, considering all the doped-up lovey smiles and heart-eyes you noticed when they walked to you. The brief hand squeeze and wide-eyed glance from her let you know you were in for an entire night of dramatic recalling of every detail of their evening and you could only shake your head with a fond smirk. As you all walked back towards the dance area, Manu spoke up, "Oh, did you get the payal I'd given Anakin to give to you?" she looked down at your feet though they were covered with your skirt. You supposed she heard them jingle, the sound louder and more noticeable now that you were wearing both of them. But her question brought back that unwanted memory from earlier in the evening instead, and you fought real hard to keep your face from heating up, inhaling a deep breath as inconspicuously as possible, "uh– yeah, he um.. he did." you nodded your head a little too aggressively, "I mean I got it, yeah." Lightly lifting your skirt to show your pair of anklets safely secured, by the most gentle hands you'd ever felt. This time you felt your ears undeniably heat up. 'What the hell? Why were you so fixated on that one thing? It was nothing. It's not like he was sliding a wedding ring on you or something.' Though for some reason, that thought only made your breath stutter as you felt the lava-like blood now rushing to your cheeks. Ugh, get a grip, get. a. grip. And since you were too busy trying to appear totally normal and shoot the butterflies in your stomach dead, you missed the mischievous look that Manu shot Krish as she gave a quick squeeze to his hand in hers. "Should we really have been spying on them like that? And worse, taking photos of them without them knowing?" and though his question was whispered through a sigh he squeezed her hand right back.

"Oh, hush. 10 years from now when they have cute little munchkins running around, I'll have proof to show that I was the one that set their ship sailing." she answered with a smirk. "You've thought about their kids? 10 years from now??" he raised his brows with an incredulous laugh. "Of course. I think about everything." Even the things that you were too practical to consider. Your words, not hers. 'Blind' is what she would call it. You may have the observation skills rivalling that of the most infamous detectives, but she had The Vision. And she knew in her guts that you two were just meant to end up together. "Oh yeah? Then what have you thought about our 10 years? We got 'cute little munchkins' in our cards too?" he tossed an arm around her shoulders, snuggling her close to him to teasingly tickle at her exposed waist. "Mmm, for now our cards hold a very very important mission." She answered and he sighed again, knowing exactly where this was heading. "Let me guess, mission 'get your best friend and my best friend together for the last dance to recreate another Bollywood-style romantic scene?" he raised a brow, coming to a stop as they reached the edge of the canopy of lights and fabrics. "It's only been a few hours and you've already gained the boyfriend-telepathy skills. Impressive." She wiggled her brows at him while turning around in his arms, "I need you to find Anakin and somehow get him to agree to dance." Sensing his hesitation she quickly continued, "I know it won't be easy, but you'll manage. Once we get them both here we need to make sure they're on opposite sides of the circle so that when the final song comes they'll be paired together" she finished. "You really have thought this through, huh? I can't guarantee that he'll agree to dance, I mean it's Anakin we're talking about," noticing her pleading pout he rolled his eyes in fond exasperation, "but I'll try."

With that, he left and she walked to where you were standing, finishing up talking to some old lady, no doubt held hostage to some good ol’ ‘I knew you since you were thisss little’ talk for the past few minutes that the two had spent whispering their plan, but she quickly patted your cheek and left. "So, tonight's the exclusive dandiya night," she wiggled her brows like it was supposed to mean something, it was. You laughed, not understanding her implication. "What about it?" She rolled her eyes good-naturedly, "it's dandiya dumbass. As in, you know, pairs dancing," she continued when she realised your light bulb was still dim. "Oh," you hadn't thought about that, too caught up in the dance competition to care about the other stuff. "Yeah, ‘oh.’ So, who you gonna choose?" "Um...you?" though it came out unsure. "I appreciate the sentiment babe, I really do. I would choose you too–" You raised a brow at that, "but?" "But'" she made a show of dragging out the word then throwing her arms out to her sides, "look at the crowd around you, there's so many kids our age, there's quite a few guys our age too." And finally you caught onto her line of thoughts, narrowing your eyes you shook your head. "Absolutely not. We are not doing this tonight, well I mean you're settled, so I'm not doing this tonight." But the fates seemed to be on her side that night, as she noticed Krish and Anakin talking a few paces away towards the outskirts of the canopy while you both stood at the centre, you hadn't noticed them yet but she could see Anakin shaking his head in a firm no as well. Gosh why were the both of you so difficult? But she also noticed another opportunity walk towards you, and a hopeful scenario played out in her head, courtesy of The Vision. And so she immediately got to work.

"Hey AJ!" she called out to the guy just about to walk by you a few steps away, "didn't you mention that you don't have a partner for tonight's dandiya?" Your eyes widened and you subtly tried to pinch her to stop her from saying the next words but it was too late, "My best friend here also doesn't have a partner, would you mind pairing up with her if you haven't already found someone else?" In speaking to the guy, both of you had turned to fully face him, so she couldn't see Anakin’s reaction anymore. She hoped he had heard what she had just asked this guy. He had. While the two had been devising their plan off to the side, you had been standing at the centre of the canopy taking time to clear your mind and cool yourself. Your gaze was immediately drawn to the gorgeous lights and colourful fabrics that hung above you, mesmerised by how pretty they looked standing out against the dark nighht sky beyond. And though you may never know, Anakin had spotted you right then, standing there in your pretty red ghagra, face tilted to look above you, and it had looked like one of the most gorgeous things he had ever seen, you had looked so pretty with all the lights gleaming in your eyes. And though he was too far to see it, he knew your gaze held that golden twinkle that shone every time you were genuinely happy, though he had hardly been on the receiving end of it. So he had always observed from afar, just as he was doing tonight. His thoughts had been interrupted by the movement of someone approaching him in his periphery. It turned out to be Krish, who clapped him on the back as a greeting and then asked him if he had eaten anything to which Anakin's mind flashed to the almost nauseating sweetness of the tooth-rotting dessert he'd had, immediately followed by the image of the delicate jewellery around your ankle and he quickly shut the door on that thought, instead answering with a single nod.

"Good, good 'cause you're gonna need some energy for a while." Anakin only raised an inquisitive eyebrow in response, while Krish thought of the best, most convincing way to... well, to convince him. "Y/N needs a partner..." "Okay…?" "For the dance, I mean. She needs a partner for the dandiya, she doesn't have one..." he trailed off again, should he just be straightforward with it? "It's you." "What?" Anakin's head snapped to look at him like he was insane. "It's you. You're going to dance with her." "What the fuck? No, I'm not?" it came out as a question because he was baffled as to how his own best friend could say something as dumb as that. Dancing? him? That's fucking funny. "Yes, you are. She needs a partner. You need a partner. The solution is obvious." "Like hell it is. I don't need a partner, 'cause I'm not fucking dancing." He shook his head decisively. "You want to though. You know you want to dance with her." Krish said with a pointed look. "And just what the hell made you think that?" "I'm your best friend, Ani. Do you think I'm blind or—" "Hey AJ!" Aamani's voice had carried over to the two of them, halting their conversation as their attention was now on the two of you, though your backs were turned to them. Aamani's voice was somehow loud enough that they got the gist of it, she had asked this AJ to be your partner, and from the way he walked over to the two of you, your best friend introducing you to each other, him shaking your hand and the dazzling smile you gave him in return, Anakin felt an irrational sorts of a burning pit in his stomach. "Well, looks like the deal's done. She's got her fucking partner." He pushed off the pillar he’d been leaning on, walking away. "Wait! Dude! Where you go—" "Out." and with that he quickly walked towards the back exit of the ground, walking through the gates and out into the cold night. But he had been wrong. AJ hadn't yet agreed to dance with you, or rather Aamani hadn't given him the chance to, stalling him by telling you that he was studying the same thing as you, though he went to a different university. She had been buying time, hoping that any second now, Anakin and his impulsiveness would come barging and say that you've already got a partner. But time was running short as the conversation between the two of you came back to the topic of tonight's dance. "So, you don't have a partner for the dandiya either?" she heard him ask. Where the hell was Anakin? But her movie-like vision for his entrance onto the scene immediately shattered when she turned to see what was holding him, only to see Anakin nowhere in sight and her boyfriend standing alone with a small frown on his face. Catching his eyes she sent him a questioning look, to which he only shook his head dejectedly. And she knew her plan had failed. For her, at least. Because when she turned back around, she saw you agreeing with AJ to meet up under the canopy before the start of the dance before he excused himself, mentioning something about helping move the chairs or whatever. You too said something about meeting up with one of your older hometown friends you'd run into right before the dance competition. You'd promised to come find her when you were free to catch up on things. And so you left as well.

But at that point, Manu could only think about how wrong this was. She knew it was her who had asked AJ to dance with her best friend, so she couldn't blame him. But Anakin – Anakin she could blame. And she could also just about drag his ass back here to ask him what the hell was he doing? With the way the whole payal scene had gone, and knowing Anakin's possessive nature, she was almost 100% sure he'd metaphorically sweep you off your feet (before literally sweeping you off your feet during the dance). So why the hell was her best friend going to be dancing with a guy she was (frustratingly) getting along with instead?

Krish had walked his way back to stand behind her, but not even his warmth and the comforting palm he ran up and down her bare arm could stop the disappointed frown pulling on her lips. She turned to her boyfriend with a concerned expression, "Did I just accidentally push my best friend towards the wrong guy, with the right guy storming off to who knows where?"

Part 2: Jhumka

a/n: so.... there's 4 more nights left... do you think they'll ever get their dance? 👀

A/n: Thank you all so much if you spent your time on this trash wreckage fuelled by finals stress and unfulfilled dreams </3

Would love to hear feedback on this one! Don't hesitate to send me any ques or just anything that comes to mind relating to our dearest love-haters and the overzealous matchmakers ;)

#miel works #anakin skywalker x reader #anakin skywalker #anakin x reader #star wars #hayden christensen x reader #slow burn #anakin imagine #anakin fluff #hayden christensen #fanfic #fanfiction #desi reader #payal universe

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iinumakiis · 7 months ago

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Put Your Records On

prompt: first date with yuuta!

pairing: yuuta okkotsu/reader

warnings: noncurse au, fluff, two idiots in love, yuuta's a nervous wreck, ooc (?), not proofread

a/n: first yuuta fic let's goooo >.< likes + reblogs appreciated!

A light knock sounds from your door, pulling you from the frantic effort to make yourself presentable. Upon opening up, Yuuta is stood in the doorframe, hands wringing together nervously.

"Hi Yuuta," you beam, flashing him a small smile, "I'll be out in just a second, let me grab my keys." He nods in response, opting to stuff his hands in his jean pockets. Returning with your keys, you shut and lock the door behind you, setting off walking on the sidewalk.

"So, did you have anything in mind?" You ask, glancing sideways to look at his face.

"Yeah, there's somewhere I wanted to show you, I haven't taken anyone here with me yet." He answers, a light blush dusting over his face.

A small laugh makes it's way out of your chest, forcing him to look over at you. He takes in how your eyes crinkle when you laugh, head thrown back ever so slightly, the way you expose your teeth in a grin, and he's bewitched.

One of your hands comes up to fan your face as you try to calm down your laughter. You glance towards him, cocking an eyebrow curiously, having caught him staring at you. Yuuta's face lights up again, quickly snapping his field of vision away from you, his own embarrassed smile tugging at his lips.

"See something you like?" You flirt, playfully knocking your arm into his, causing him to actually laugh.

"Yeah, I think so." He smiles towards you, his smile, that smile that makes you feel like sunshine.

After another 20 minute walk and some flirty-playful banter, he tugs on your arm and pulls you into what looks like a bookstore. Tall shelves line the room, each cluttered with books of any genre you could think of. You inhale, savoring the comforting dusty smell of old books.

"Oh my god, Yuutaaaa!" You squeal, excitement evident in your voice. A hand of yours instinctively comes to clutch his arm and squeeze gently, the enthusiasm coursing through you. "You know me so well."

Much to his dismay, he can feel his face heating up again at the contact, one of his own hands coming up to rub the back of his neck sheepishly. "This actually isn't even my favorite part."

With a gentle hand, he takes yours and guides you to a set of stairs leading to a lower level of the building. At the end of the stairs, a soft gasp leaves your mouth, awestruck by the sight. The lower level was overflowing with records and CDs, a record player sitting on one of the shelves playing an old 70s love song.

Yuuta glances at you, anxiety obviously overcoming him as he speaks quickly, "I know it's nothing crazy or super exciting, I just normally come here when I want to get away. I thought you might enjoy the whole vibe of this place as well-"

His rambling is stopped in its tracks when you wrap your arms around his neck, effectively pulling him into an embrace. "Yuu, I love it! This is amazing!" The corners of his mouth twitch into a smile, sighing in relief.

The next several hours are spent with both of you bouncing back and forth in conversation over music, books, movies - anything that came to mind. Conversation felt easy with Yuuta, and each lull in said conversation felt comfortable.

Well past when you thought you'd be home, you finally make your way outside the store, noticing that the sun had set. Each of you carried a bag with one book and one record, having decided to pick personal favorites for each other and share.

"I should probably be getting home, Yuu. It's dark and I'm really not trying to deal with weirdos after such a good night," you sigh, not wanting to leave him.

Yuuta catches this easily, softly grasping your hand into his and interlocking his fingers in yours. "Don't worry, I can walk you home," he says easily, flashing you his sunshine smile that never fails to make you weak in the knees. Without thinking about it, you're nodding along in agreement, and he's leading you back home with slow steps.

"I really did have fun tonight, Yuu, thank you for taking me somewhere so special to you," a faint blush creeps up your cheeks, mentally thanking whatever higher power that the only light to acknowledge it were the sparsely placed streetlights.

His eyes catch yours and he chuckles, giving your hand a reassuring squeeze. "Why wouldn't I want to share my favorite place with my favorite person?"

At Yuuta's words, the light pink darkens to a scarlet. Too scared that if you speak you'll say something stupid, or your voice will crack, you opt to just hum contentedly in response.

Two pairs of feet tap the stairs up to your front door, and he releases your hand. Arriving home has never felt more tense then it does now, him staring at you, with his ears twinged pink in a blush.

"Well... Uh- I hope you have a good rest of your night, [y/n]," He concludes, starting to spin away from you, mentally cringing at himself for being so awkward.

"Hey, Yuu?" You ask quickly, abandoning your bag on your porch. "Hm?" He turns again to face you, only to find you directly in front of him, breathing a little harder than normal. "Are you oka-"

Navy eyes widen as you softly press your plush lips against his, your hands coming to gently take his face between your hands. Slowly, his eyes flutter shut, letting himself sink into the kiss, silencing any thoughts he had about himself ruining things. His slender fingers find your waist and tenderly hold you, almost as if he let go, you'd vanish like a figment of his imagination.

You pull away first, looking at him with hazy eyes, hands coming to rest delicately on the chest. A love-drunk smile plays on your face as you slowly steady your breath and racing heart.

"Now I will have a good night."

#edenwrites #o.yuuta #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jjk x reader #jjk x you #jujustsu kaisen x reader #jjk fluff #jjk smut #okkotsu yuuta #yuuta x reader #jjk yuuta #yuuta x you #divider by @/peachesboard

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still-a-morosexual-help · 2 years ago

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Here's something mildly heartbreaking :) (my speciality!)

Mammon definitely cried when MC died right?

• He (along with Asmo) is the character who cries the most in canon;

1.) He cries during sad parts of movies/shows/plays/books

2.) He cries while watch animal documentries

3.) Hell he cried because Beel ate the soup he was making MC

• MC died on a day where the rest of the brothers were (up until that point) having a relaxing, fun day - playing a game to get Lucifer & MC closer together. Their death was definitely unexpected/an extreme shock

• MC's injuries were bad according to Satan? (Levi?) Bad enough that a human wouldn't have been able to survive it. Bad enough that even Lucifer knew he couldn't do anything to save them when Asmo asked him to. That means the body Mammon was holding was........ I mean it would have been a gruesome sight

• Mammon's been spending every day since the beginning of the year with MC. At this point he's already obviously in love with them, they're his best friend, the two of them share a bedroom frequently. They were close

The point being: Mammon held a dying human in his arms and sobbed his fucking heart out while asking them not to die. In front of Belphie.

The point being: Mammon didn't cry when Lilith died. No listen, he absolutely broke down when she died but he didn't do it in front of his brothers. Mammon was the one keeping it together and looking after everyone when they Fell. He couldn't scream and cry and beg like he wanted to when Lilith died because he had to be the strong one, he had to soothe everyone's injuries and fears and guilt, he had to show them that things could be better, that they could move on to a brighter future (shoutout to Mammon's lines in his unit song with Lucifer).

But you know what Belphie would have seen?

He would have seen his older brother breaking down over a human he's known for months when he wouldn't even cry after his little sister, who he'd known for thousands of years, died

And we all already know what Belphie thought about humans at this time:

And we already know what he thought about his brothers at this time:

For a moment there, while MC was dying Belphie would have hated Mammon. Would have felt vindicated for causing Mammon that kind of pain, when he (as far as Belphie knew) couldn't even spare that for his sister.

Belphie would have felt angry and betrayed. Justified for what he said and did but so so painfully hurt.

And then (in s1 of the anime) when the brothers were tiptoeing around Belphie, were trying to reach out to him and act normal after what he did, but were so obviously failing, when there was a distance between them and Belphie that had previously never existed, that even Beel couldn't find away to breach, Mammon was the first to take that step forward and close the distance which prompted everyone else to do the same, to bring Belphie back to them, to show that he was accepted and loved and always a part of them

And I am very emotional about them.

Disclaimer: this is absolutely not a post bashing Belphie or his thoughts/actions/feelings. They're both complex characters and I always love trying to breakdown and figure out what certain characters were feeling at a time by bringing up other moments in canon. If you try to make this post into something to bash Belphie or start dumb discourse I will eat your entire right leg🐸

In addition, me stating things from canon or talking about negative emotions or things characters have done and comparing those things to another charcter's actions/emotions/responses is not me putting down one character to raise up another. Sometimes when analysing characters you have to compare and contrast them with others present in that or similar situations -> doing so doesn't mean I'm shit talking one character. A character can do, say, think, believe bad or complex things -> there's nothing wrong with talking about/analysing those things or still loving that character.

I know it seems stupid to say something that should seem obvious but *takes out cigar and blows smoke* I've been in this business a long time, kid (3 years for om!, 7 years actively in a fandom, 14 years in fandom in general) I've seen things, terrible things

Also, lemme shamelessly plug in my fic because it's related to this post -> Changing Seasons

Ft. Belphie coming to terms with MC after Lesson 16

Onesided Belphie × (unnamed gn!) MC

Mammon x MC being Besties

Belphie & Mammon talking, but not talking enough

Belphie's PoV

Mammon very briefly being an eldritch nightmare as a little treat for you monsterfuckers

Edit:

Huge additional part added because I realised the entire focus of this post could be misunderstood

Ajznxodjfc9enhd7ejx 😭😭😭😭this was supposed to be Belphie's post about Belphie's feelings. Y'all know I love Mammon, but he's not supposed to be the focus here🥲

Usually when I make an analysis post I take evidence from canon and then add it all together to get ✨️The Main Point✨️ of the post.

In this post I had to infer all of mammon's "canon evidence" (via other actual canon evidence) because we're never explicitly told he cried when MC died and we never see his instant reaction to Lilith's death.

Belphie's side of it was however all explicitly stated in canon so I just added the screenshots. Which is why I wrote much more about mammon on this post than Belphie.

But ✨️The Main Point✨️ that I was always getting to and what made me write this post is actually about how absolutely fucking pissed off Belphie would have been because of Mammon. How hurt and angry and betrayed he would have felt that his older brother who's meant to protect him and his family apparently valued the life of some random human over their sister's.

I added the S1 bit because it nicely rounded up Belphie & Mammon's story. Because it proved Belphie wrong. It proved exactly how much Mammon (and the others) valued him and each other. Because he got to see how heartbroken Mammon was when MC died, he knew exactly what it was like to be that heartbroken, he knew exactly what it was like to NEVER forgive that which caused the pain, and yet he was forgiven. And THAT I think more than anything would have proved Belphie's initial thoughts wrong. It would have eased any lingering feelings of betrayal and hurt he had. Would have proved how much he was loved by his older brother.

So yeah, this was absolutely made to be Belphie's post and I don't think I explained that well enough in the original post💀 in my defense i was half an hour late in feeding the kids & getting yelled at🥲

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ghastlyfilters · 9 months ago

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SPEAK SOFTLY LOVE

— “WE’RE IN A WORLD, OUR VERY OWN. SHARING A LOVE THAT ONLY FEW HAVE EVER KNOWN.”

pairing; post spray jeremiah valeska x fem!reader

summary; jeremiah takes you to see the first part of one of his favourite film franchises of all time. the godfather. and when you return from seeing such a cinematic masterpiece, jeremiah decides to dance with you to one of the songs from it.

note; HII!! i can’t even explain how excited i am to be writing this. i love the godfather and gotham, so i’m glad the thought came to me. nothing wrong with appreciating my love for both jeremiah valeska and michael corleone;)

also, here’s some of the italian words used in this fic, and what they mean! (if these ain’t accurate just blame google translate)

non smetti mai di sembrare raggiante, tesoro. - you never fail to look radiant, darling.

grazie - thank you.

MASTERLIST

You and Jeremiah panted as you had ran back in the rain to the entry of his hideout. Tonight he’d took you to see one of his favourite cinema classics. The Godfather.

He’d had this planned for AGES. Years even. He knew one day he wanted to share with you the joy he felt in watching such an amazing cinematic masterpiece. And today, he had successfully got what he wanted.

There was tons of abandoned theatres scattered throughout Gotham. But Jeremiah didn’t want to take you somewhere shabby and wrecked. No.

He’d taken you to Gotham’s oldest theatre. A building that had been stood even before the very first time The Godfather came to cinemas. It was high class, and full of money people at all times. The theatre was known for showing tons of classics. So tonight was Jeremiah’s lucky night.

He’d made sure he booked out the whole screening. He didn’t want a soul interrupting any moment he was planning on enjoying with you. Only thing was that because of how high class the theatre was, it would cost a shit load to buy tickets, let alone the whole thing.

Jeremiah made sure the owner knew that money wasn’t everything. Well.. after holding a blade to his throat.

The whole thing went smoothly. And you’d never seen him so happy. He looked more like an excited child rather than a grown man thrilled to see the most loved mafia movie on the big screen.

As the heels of his shoes tapped against the flooring, you heard him softly hum the Godfather waltz. And he did so with nothing but pride.

You sat on the couch, your fingers slowly tracing circles onto the beautiful fabric. Jeremiah always had ways of making you feel so expensive.

“A glass of Chianti, darling?” He called out.

You looked back and nodded as he swiftly poured the Italian wine into a tall crystal glass for you.

Jeremiah carefully strutted over to you, two glasses in his hands. He placed one down in front of you, giving you a kiss on the hand.

“I must say,” He said, sitting down beside you, already motioning for you to move closer. “My expectations for this night with you were perfectly met, my dear.”

Jeremiah put a gloved finger on your cheek, and you practically purred at his touch. He held your waist as you moved into his lap, grinning.

“I suppose now I see why you always used to be so persistent on having that slicked back hair, Don Valeska.” You mocked. You’d known for years Jeremiah took a deep liking to Michael Corleone’s character. You couldn’t blame him, of course. Michael and Jeremiah both shared a great charm.

He rolled his eyes playfully, taking a sip of his wine. He let out a small gasp as an idea struck him. And you furrowed your brows the minute he took you off his lap.

“Miah?” You said, curiosity clear in your voice. He held a finger up, hurrying into another room. You just sighed, wondering what he was planning now.

Jeremiah soon returned, a vinyl in hand. He flashed you a smile, before darting over to the record player. He set it all up, and you started to giggle the minute the song started to play.

Speak Softly Love by Andy Williams. A song that included an instrumental theme used in The Godfather. Which had made the song a true gem to listen to.

He rushed back over to you, and you could see the amount of joy dancing around in his eyes despite the song only just starting.

“Shall we?” Jeremiah grinned, putting his hand out for you.

You accepted it, and he immediately pulled you up. Gracefully, but you could tell he was desperate to finally dance with you to this.

Speak softly, love and hold me warm against your heart..

I feel your words, the tender trembling moments start.

We're in a world, our very own..

Sharing a love that only few have ever known.

Another soft giggle escaped your lips as he directed you to sway around with him. You’d never admitted it, but Jeremiah was an incredible dancer. Always so careful with his partner.

Wine-colored days warmed by the sun..

Deep velvet nights, when we are one.

“Non smetti mai di sembrare raggiante, tesoro.” Jeremiah whispered into your ear. God you loved when he spoke Italian.

“Grazie.” You replied, planting a kiss onto his cheek. However, he redirected your lips. He tilted your chin upward, and soon you felt his own velvety smooth lips brushing against yours.

He put one hand on the back of your head, caressing your hair. He pulled away as the rest of the lyrics played on the vinyl, and the two of you went back to swaying again.

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky..

The vows of love we make will live until we die.

My life is yours and all because..

You came into my world with love, so softly love.

You both waltzed around the room as the strong instrumental part of the song really kicked in. You caught a glimpse of Jeremiah’s face glistening from the moonlit sky outside throughout Gotham.

You’d truly began to admire his new features now. His ghostly white face, red ruby lips, and those icy green eyes..

Some were scared, meanwhile others like his followers found it intriguing. But you.. oh.. you found it hauntingly beautiful.

His change in attitude was also something you were secretly enjoying. Before the spray, Jeremiah had been incredibly shy with showing you affection. His overthinking always crept in, giving him the hint that perhaps you did not feel the same way towards him as he did for you.

Now, he was incredibly bold whilst showing his love for you. And he wanted every single person in the city to see that.

Wine-colored days warmed by the sun..

Deep velvet nights, when we are one.

His gloved hands made their way down your body, cupping your hips. Jeremiah loved your curves. You were so womanly. And it was another part of you he’d always admired.

“This is…” He breathed. “Rather.. exhilarating.”

Speak softly, love so no one hears us but the sky..

The vows of love we make will live until we die.

My life is yours and all because..

You came into my world with love…

“It’s definitely-“

“A night to remember.” Jeremiah cut you off. You dipped down as he hovered above you, his grip tight. He bent toward you, kissing you once again.

So softly love.

THIS WAS LITERALLY SO FUN TO WRITE. either that or it’s the concept of mixing my two favourite interests together. but man i love jeremiah more than anything.

#jeremiah valeska #jeremiah valeska x reader #gotham #jeremiah #x reader #fem!reader #the godfather #fics #the valeska twins #valeska twins #gotham jeremiah #fluff #the godfather 1972 #cameron monaghan #michael corleone #reader #ghastlyfilters #Spotify

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omegalomania · 1 year ago

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face in my hands. listen to me. no just. just listen. like. i think on the whole fandom tends to heavily mythologize what certain songs are "about" despite this never being solidly confirmed to be the case and fob (pete in particular) generally try not to say without question What Songs Are About because they want people to take whatever meaning they can from it. but from now on we are enemies is one of the exceptions to this rule to a very limited extent and by that i mean that on two separate occasions, during the hiatus, patrick and pete shared a little bit of what the song was about on twitter, independent of one another.

if you haven't seen the film amadeus it's about a rivalry between two historical composers, wolfgang amadeus mozart and antonio salieri. salieri loathes mozart and finds him supremely childish and annoying...but also irritatingly brilliant beyond words. salieri obsesses over wanting to see mozart fail and even plans on killing him, but they do eventually form a friendship. then mozart gets sick and dies. salieri essentially breaks and loses his mind and years down the line will claim that he murdered him.

the name of the song, "from now on we are enemies," is a direct quote from the film. but it's not talking about mozart. it's a furious diatribe that salieri flings at god himself. he's so wildly and deliriously envious of mozart that he feels like this is divine punishment and so he declares god his mortal enemy for bestowing mozart with such brilliance. from now on we are enemies, you and i.

this is, i should note, one of the last songs fall out boy wrote before the hiatus. this and "alpha dog" were considered "new" for the believers never die greatest hits compendium, but alpha dog was technically debuted before folie released, on the welcome to the new administration mixtape. then fall out boy went on hiatus and there was no guarantee of return.

like i dont know what to say about this song that hasnt already been said. its fucking deranged as all get out ill tell you that much. its fucking unhinged that this song, this song with this central thesis statement, is one of the last songs you wrote together as a band before going your separate ways without any guarantee that you would reform again. and it's THIS. IT'S THIS SONG. a song that laments about whether anyone will remember you when you're gone (reminds me of flu game, reminds me of so much (for) stardust the title track, reminds me of .... so many of the themes inherent to their eighth studio album. actually.), and a song that practically lays out its inspiration for all to see. for a band that seldom if ever discloses with actual intent the Meaning behind their songs, this is a song that discusses a HIGHLY FRAUGHT ARTISTIC RELATIONSHIP and it's hard, it's real damn hard, to see anything but what is clearly all on display. composer but never composed (patrick has always considered himself a composer first and foremost). singing the symphonies of the overdosed (pete played a song that was named after the drug he tried to overdose on with his band mere nights earlier). i'm just a man on a balcony singing no one will ever remember me (again there's the fear and dread about the legacy you leave behind just before the band goes their separate ways).

can't fucking lay out the sheer psychological damage this does to my soul just thinking about this. they played MISS MISSING YOU the night before. just, you know, one of the other Songs that's so hard to disentangle from the hiatus because of the way it was written (patrick wrote the music while making soul punk, felt like it wasn't for him, and set it aside...despite there being, again, NO guarantee that the band would ever reform at this point, and then the song was only completed once fall out boy decided to come back, with joe and andy adding instrumentation and pete adding the lyrics) and whose music video features patrick and pete literally KILLING EACH OTHER. from now on we are enemies. i need to walk into the ocean. i need to lie down. im inconsolable.

#*making poasts #i need to be doing comic work but im just fucking FUMING instead. i cant get over this. im never getting over this.

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spade-riddles · 4 months ago

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Submission:

💛 I like the Gracie theories!

Part one :-)

Gracie said the song ‘Us’ is a conversation where they’re singing to each other. What if Gracie and Taylor met earlier? Did you know they allegedly met because Taylor invited Gracie to her birthday in 2021, seems a rather personal thing to invite someone you’ve never met to right? What if it was an olive branch?

Late 2020-Early 2021 First meeting:

Gracie starts the conversation:

I know you know

(I know you that i’m queer and that I know that you’re queer)

It felt just like a joke

(We’re dancing around the topic it feels so silly)

I show, you don’t

(I tell you i’m queer, tell you about my girlfriend perhaps)

And now we're talkin'

I know your ghost

(Karlie)

I see her throw the smoke

(Through the smoke and mirrors, the lavender haze, the bearding)

She’ll play her show

(The performance of her life, the husband and kids)

And you’ll be watchin’

(You have to watch her do this)

From here we presume Taylor doesn’t take it the best or rather just doesn’t open up to her, perhaps it’s around just after the masters heist which is how Gracie picked up on her flagging and had the courage to bring it up.

And if history’s clear someone always ends up in ruins

(We don’t talk about it because someone ends up upset now)

And what seemed like fate becomes "What the hell was I doin'?"

(Reflecting on the conversation, I’m such an idiot why was I asking her that, this line calls back to failed coming out in Taylor’s verse)

Babylon lovers hanging lifetimes on a vine

Do you miss mine?

(I showed, you never heard about her again)

Gracie:

I know you know

It felt like somethin' old

It felt like somethin' holy, like souls bleedin', so

(A way to describe recognising queerness in another person, it does feel holy in a sense)

Gracie:

It fеlt like what I've known

(I recognised this in you and when i’m near you I can recognise it more)

You’re twenty nine years old

So how can you be cold when I open up my home?

(Why didn’t you give me yours? Why didn’t you open up to me? You’re twenty nine, you’re older than me, I should be the one that’s scared about this)

----------------------

💛 Part Two

Late 2021:

Taylor:

And if history’s clear the flames always end up in ashes

(Failed coming out, likely reason for not opening up)

And what seemed like fate give it ten months and you’ll be past it

(“Come to my Birthday party?��)

Babylon lovers hanging missed calls on the vine

I gave you mine

(I told you about my queerness and Karlie)

The chorus between verses floats through different targets. Gracie may have harboured some hurt feelings about the interaction, in turn probably hurt feelings about Taylor’s role in continuing the machine of closeting (especially in a time when she could be pivotal in breaking that machine for a young queer artist like herself; times are rapidly changing now but even five years ago there weren’t many out and proud big pop artists). Directing the “do you miss us?” at Taylor, do you miss the idea of what could have been? I felt it, I held it, I felt that you were coming out with Lover, I felt the ice castle cracking, do you regret not doing it?

By the second chorus they’ve teamed up, directing the questions at their audience, US. Do we mind? Do we mind that they’re glass closeted, that they know we know, do we miss what could have been? Do we regret listening to the queer signalling and being transfixed while also watching them being spineless in their tomb of silence?

The bridge is where they turn on the machine together, everyone that keeps them closeted, Record Labels, CEOs, Managers, Family etc etc

That night you were talking false prophets and profits

They make in the margins of poetry sonnets

(You made me into this idol for the world that I don’t want to be because it’s not who I am but I continue to do it and it is lining your pockets)

You never read up on it, shame could’ve learned something

(These people didn’t read the poetry sonnets, often that they’re the target of, could’ve learnt that they were destroying their lives)

Robert Bly on my nightstand, gifts from you, how ironic

(Robert Bly is famous for self help material, how ironic that you’re giving me this gift but also causing me to need it)

The curse or a miracle, hearse or an oracle

(Is being famous and closeted awful or once in twenty lifetimes? Will it kill us or save us?)

The last chorus is to this group of people, likely in the future.

All speculation :-)

#taylor swift #gracie abrams

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ruewrote · 2 years ago

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𝑖𝑛 𝑖𝑡 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑟𝑒𝑎𝑙.

PAIRING: jake seresin x fem!reader WARNINGS: strong language GENRE: fluff SONG INSPIRATION: nonsense by sabrina carpenter WORD COUNT: 912

navigation | ask | top gun masterlist

this was now the fifth or sixth time that jake had tried to flirt with you, the previous attempts failing since you had shot him down.

you knew of his reputation and you weren't going to be another notch under his belt.

he probably thought you were just playing hard to get, but he got a little more frustrated every single time he got turned down, but was never forceful, he just didn't think he could like someone this much.

you didn't know what he was trying to prove or who he was trying to prove it to.

you already had enough on your plate, making drinks, wiping tables down. it was far from the first time an aviator tried flirting with you either for free drinks or for your number, of course you never gave it out because they all gave up quite easily or never put enough effort in.

not him though.

man was he persistent, it was nice just knowing that someone was thinking of you. yes he might think there's a possibility that he might be able to get into your pants, but a little flirting never hurt anybody, right?

fluttered eyelashes and small gestures like opening the door for you, him letting you walk in first not before sending you a winning smile.

tonight was no different then the others - well that was until a drunken dickhead decided to think it was a good idea to grab your ass.

as soon as it happened you turned around, fist meeting his nose knocking him onto his butt. shaking your hand a little whilst you kept staring at the creep on the floor.

grabbing his nose, he stood as the blood gushed out of his nose. his face full of rage, you soon regretted your punch when he towered over you, backing away he soon stopped when hangman slid in between the two of you, shielding you away from the guy.

"im gonna have to ask you to leave dude, you've crossed the line, the lady was lucky that she let you get away with just a bloody nose. i would've beaten you black and blue for that."

this just made the guy square up to jake, he stood a couple of inches shorted than the aviator, all jake did was firmly planted his feet where he stood, chest puffed out.

the coward ran out of the bar, seresin stood his ground making sure the guy was gone for good before turning to make sure that you were alright.

the whole bar went back to doing what they were doing previous to when the incident started, you didn't even realise that most people had stopped to watch what was happening - some of them ready to intervene if it had come down to it.

once he had scanned your body for any injuries his eyes landed on your hand, the one that had taken a blow not too long ago.

he lightly ran his thumb over your bruised knuckles as he held your hand, you slightly flinched trying to downplay the pain that you feel.

that led him guiding you to the backroom, penny smirking whilst giving you a nod which made you roll your eyes.

once you got there, he sat you down on a unopened keg, opening the freezer door finding an icepack.

you admired him as long as you could before he turned to make his way back over to you, gently placing the ice on your knuckles cradling your hand.

a sharp hiss left your mouth, which made him apologise profusely.

"ive never had anyone defend my honour before, honestly thought he was gonna lay me out flat after he stood up." that just made him shake his head with a small smile, keeping his eyes on your hand in his.

"you know i would never let anything happen as long as i was there."

you had never been this close to him before, so close that you could see the flecks of brown in his green eyes. feel his breath fanning your face, his eyes flickering down to your lips waiting for a response.

"i know. i believe that..." you both leant closer to each other, you were sure he could hear how fast and strong your heart was beating as your lips met his.

it was everything you dreamt of and more.

it felt right. you felt safe with him.

you pulled away with a wide grin on your face, a nervous giggle falling out of your mouth.

"worth the wait, now you stubborn woman will you please let me take you out on a goddamn date?" he playfully slumped himself against you, head on your shoulder.

of course your answer was yes, how could you say no to him?

after you walked out of the break room it must of been obvious that something happened from the hand holding, payback and fanboy started making kissing noises and rubbing there arms up and down their sides pretending to make out with someone.

everyone else in the bar started cheering which made you rest your head on jake's shoulder as a deep blush spread across your cheeks, all he did was shake his head and snaked his arm around your waist pulling you closer to him kissing your cheek.

"it's about damn time." looking over to see it was penny and pete smirking at you both.

the teasing was never ending of course.

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artist-issues · 6 months ago

Note

idk anything about 21 pilots, but you talk about them a lot and they seem cool!! Who are they and what are they about and where do i get started in their music 😁

GIRL

These kinds of questions make me so happy. People who know me in real life organically ask me to talk about movies and stuff sometimes, but never bands, and when they find out I like twenty one pilots, never them 😂

Anyway,

Twenty one pilots is a roughly 15 year-old band led by Tyler Joseph, who used to be an intern at Five14 Church (New Albany Church) in Columbus, Ohio, and a rising basketball star in his schooling. Then, my understanding is, he taught himself how to play piano, got interested in/wrote songs during his senior year of high school, and then eventually dropped out of college to pursue making music full time. The band is named after a play by Arthur Miller called “All My Sons.” Tyler Joseph studied it in school—he was inspired by the plot of having to make a hard decision that ultimately costs lives…and you can hear through all the songs the sense of urgency, and the way the lead singer is convinced that every single choice you make can have dire consequences.

At the start of the band, it had him and two other members. Their first album is called “Twenty One Pilots,” and it has sick album art that everybody loves:

The band played local shows (like in literal houses and backyards and stuff) and were mostly performing songs from this album. My favorite twenty one pilots song is on this album: it’s called Addict With a Pen.

(Specifically, my favorite is this version of him performing it live several years after its release, which I saw after returning from the camp where I got saved.)

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In those early years, twenty one pilots performed songs off of Self-Titled. But they also did a few that Tyler Joseph wrote independently, the ones not featured on the album.

One of the songs that he wrote that isn’t on this album was written when he was in high school before he had a band. It’s called “Save.” He probably recorded it in the early 2000s, but if I don’t have my years mixed up, I didn’t hear that song until I was 14-turning-15 in the year 2011. And it, along with another song of his called “Clear,” played with it, was the first song I ever heard by twenty one pilots. I heard it the week I gave my life to Christ. Save is a gut-scream song about the need to be saved. It’s hard to listen to. But in the context I heard it in, I needed to be hearing the idea of “needing salvation” in that extreme and real of a voice. So I love it.

Clear is about Tyler Joseph’s struggle with trying to figure out if it’s better to get people thinking with cryptic lyrics about their need for a savior—OR should he just come out and say, “I’m a Christian, I believe Jesus Christ is what you need, please believe in Him like I did?” He winds up settling on the first option (sometimes I wish he hadn’t) and “telling the audience what he can,” and not pushing it on them when they “let him know when they’ve had enough.”

Clear planted the germs in my brain that led to me considering art, and then storytelling as a tool to deliver hard truth “under the eyes of watchful dragons.” He talks about the concept of Romans 7 using the philosophy of disguising his words, like in Clear, in this interview, which, when I saw the part at about 9 minutes, made me start paying attention to Tyler Joseph as a person instead of just listening to his music.

youtube

Anyway. Back to the band.

One of these independent songs, NOT on the original album of the band, was called “Time to Say Goodbye,” and it has a pretty intense ‘cycle of knowing you’re messed up (like really messed up. suicide attempt and purposeless darkness levels of messed up) -> unable to fix it on your own -> trying anyway -> failing -> driven to accept Christ’s ability to kill the old you so you can live for something bigger than your messed-up self’ concept in the lyrics.

That whole progression, the “Romans 7 Progression,” I think of it as, winds up being one of the strongest recurring themes in every album afterward.

But I bring it up because the legend is, when performing that song, Time to Say Goodbye, at a little venue, Josh Dun, who already had some experience drumming in a different Christian band, saw twenty one pilots for the first time. And he thought the song and Tyler were brilliant. The current drummer of the band introduced him to Tyler, and when everybody in the band except Tyler quit, Josh Dun quit his job with no fallback plan and became the drummer of twenty one pilots. Since then, they have been a two-man band.

They have their own genre, because they’re both self-taught, and one of the identifying factors of the band is that both Josh Dun and Tyler Joseph are intensely opposed to giving in to the draw of “Fame” or “Success.” They stubbornly insist that they just make music they like. Whatever, that’s not unique, lots of bands are punk rock and go “fight the power, we don’t care what anybody thinks, etc.”

But then you listen to Tyler Joseph adding screamo and ukulele and rap over…like, church-piano, and you hear him say things like, “I just rap because I needed to fit a lot of words in, and also my brother likes fast rap.” and you go, “oh. They meant it. They don’t know how any of this works and they just do what they like.”

Especially in their early stuff.

I “got into” twenty one pilots in the year 2011. That’s the same year they signed to a record label. They produced what I think is their best album, “Vessel,” (nobody agrees with me.)

I could break down every song on the album but nobody wants that and nobody would read it, so I’ll just say; it has deeper exploration of the band’s same themes:

Be Introspective - All the time, the lead singer is writing lyrics that urgently explore the dark corners of his own fear, doubt, and insecurity—and then he flips it around and begs his listeners to be introspective, too, because “there’s something you desperately need.” It’s this idea of not running from your emotions, but letting them drive you to what you need. (He’s never clear about what that is, though, beyond the general word “faith.”)

Focus on Your Purpose - They insist that being introspective should lead to picking what you believe, and living it out to make the most of your time.

What Music Should Be For - The lyrics are all about how music should be used to fight darkness, because it can be exorcism of your inner demons, and a rallying cry to gather around and show you that you’re not the only person who has demons. With that in mind, the band is consistently opposed to “heartless,” “mindless” music that’s just there to make you dance or indulge.

Peace Wins, Fear Loses - This theme is where they usually get closest to their Christian roots. The pattern, like I said, is the Romans 7 Cycle: I’m afraid of who I am because the digger I deep, the darker and crazier I am…but I don’t have to act on that fear. I can just throw myself at the mercy of…._____ which brings peace. Peace wins, fear loses. (After signing to the record label, Tyler Joseph went full-on into the idea in Clear of never saying point-blank that Jesus is the answer. He hints and alludes. But from that moment on, he disguises Biblical principles in zombie-and-darkness metaphors. And he hasn’t stopped doing that since 2011.)

Doubt - A recurring theme that actually has nothing to do with the audience is “doubt.” Tyler Joseph exorcises his issues with not being able to physically see God, and doubting His existence (usually because of a lack of feeling), or doubting His ability to wash Tyler clean, in his songs. All the time. Just…constantly. He sings about it so often. Which, on the one hand, is cool, because many Christian artists sing about the resolve to have faith in the face of doubt. They don’t sing so much about the feeling and the addiction to doubt that comes with doubt. If that makes sense. But on the other hand, that’s not cool—because when you only talk about the fact that you have doubts, but you don’t ever resolve them, then what you’re doing is you’re constantly rolling around in the problem without ever introducing the solution.

It’s worth noting that I think their very best song of all time is on this album, and it’s “Holding Onto You.”

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It’s their full Romans 7 Cycle in a way that addresses doubt, too. The imagery is everything I love about twenty one pilots, which I would sum up as:

“Use dark imagery to prove how defeatable darkness can be.”

I like that kind of imagery for the same reasons I like Halloween.

People started noticing the band, mainstream, worldwide, in 2015, though. When they released “Blurryface.”

They did it in such a cool way. The band loves giving their fans a sense of “uncovering” what they’re doing next. That gives the fans a sense of ownership—like they’re a part of what the band is creating. And, it makes them want to investigate the concepts in the songs—which is one step closer to examining what they believe. Organically.

Anyway. They accomplished this before Blurryface, is I remember correctly, by making a Twitter account for this mysterious character. They’d livestream Tyler and Josh from the perspective of an unseen, loudly breathing third person. Or the feed would just be a dark shot of the woods. No explanations. At one point I think I remember “he” even started “hacking” popular fans’ accounts and making posts in-character. He always spells things in all caps, with words misspelled or smashed together. And he’d tease new songs that would be on the new album.

And then, BAM, Blurryface the album drops, and it’s a smash hit. Every single song. The band had never seen that level of success before, and all of it is very ironic, because the album concept is this: “Tyler Joseph puts a name to his Insecurities, who want him dead, and battles them.”

So the whole “album cycle,” and all through tour, Tyler Joseph wears inky black paint on his hands and throat, because anxiety gives him the feeling of suffocating. Red is also the signature color of the character representing his dark side, his insecurity: “Blurryface.”

Twenty one pilots have been very intentionally deciding what shirts they wear and what visuals they use from the beginning. Josh was always wearing something alien-associated, and Tyler was always something undead, for example. But this was a whole other level of performance art. During concerts, Tyler Joseph would start out wearing his black paint thick around his neck and hands. But as the live show went on, naturally because of sweat, the paint would get thinner and thinner. So by the end of the show, the feeling is that “Blurryface” has been defeated.

I made a huge post about ranking the Blurryface songs, if you ever have nothing to do for an absurd amount of time and feel like listening to the songs. But those songs are what most people know twenty one pilots by.

Then they took an intensely long hiatus, (I mean. One year of no public appearances.) after the success of Blurryface. I remember wondering if they were ever going to make music again, and thinking “maybe they’re the perfect band” because in my high-school-entering-college opinion, they’d never written a bad song or done anything remotely uncool or worth hating from 2009-2016, so if they never made music again they’d have gone out on top. Plus, at that point, Tyler had married, and, feeling a Christian kinship with him, I had a vague biased opinion that maybe he’d want to settle in with his family and quit the fame game.

But NO. They weren’t done! In 2018, the fans discovered this hidden website associated with the band, and you could read letters written by a new character named Clancy. They were about this whole new world Tyler Joseph created, called “Trench,” which consequently became the name of their next album. This was a full-blown concept album. It was a deeper exploration, not of the Romans 7 Cycle that always made me love their lyrics…but more like an exploration of “how do suicidal thoughts and self-focus captivate you, and what lies do they use…and can you ever really escape them?”

There was also a much tighter focus on suicide being the big idealogical villain, the antithesis, of the band. “Stay alive” and the topic of suicide were always discussed in the rest of the band’s songs. But the momentum of this album seemed very, very specifically targeted at the issue this time. There’s a whole song dedicated to it called Neon Gravestones in the smack middle of the album.

Which is great. I’m glad. It’s awesome. But it’s like…”what’s the answer?” Way back in “Time to Say Goodbye,” the answer is “replace physical life-taking with spiritual self-sacrifice and rebirth.” But Trench, and its whole concept, was specifically engineered to leave you with no clear answer to the problem presented.

Worst of all, Tyler Joseph mentioned, in his vague noncommittal way, that this album saw him flirting with the idea of “a world with no God” and “loss of faith.” But he never really said he wasn’t a Christian anymore, and songs like Morph seem to suggest the opposite.

Anyway. The album’s excellent “story,” with its notes of Shawshank Redemption and The Village and 1984 ended on a cliffhanger. The character Clancy kept trying to escape with the help of a rebellion, and kept getting captured, but he always had this sort of confused resolve to “keep going.”

The next album was weird. They flipped all of their usual imagery on it’s head, from marketing style choices to the literal clothes they wore to tiny things, like whether or not Tyler was standing on Josh’s left or Josh’s right in promotional material. And all of that was intentional. Which is why I’m obsessed with them.

I love this album because I love them and their intentionality. I don’t love it for any other reason; there’s nothing about this album that is “twenty one pilots” aside from what I just said; they are doing all of that reverse-psychology stuff intentionally. In-story, this is still a continuation of Trench; the idea is that Clancy has been captured and the whole album is propaganda from the villains. So that’s neat. But anyone who didn’t know that, and just remembered twenty one pilots from Stressed Out and punk rock were like, “what happened to twenty one pilots? What’s wrong with them?”

The album does this thing that they used to do a lot as like a meta-nod at music—they would make songs with upbeat melodies and happy sounds, but the lyrics would be about insecurity and darkness and doubt. They did that on purpose. But Scaled and Icy took that tongue-in-cheek style and made it the whole album. Plus, it released during COVID. So on top of all the chaos going on in the world, this band that usually releases music that slaps you upside the head and says, “THINK. THINK ABOUT HOW SELF-CONTRADICTORY YOU ARE. THINK ABOUT THE DARKNESS AND HOW TO GET OUT OF IT.” suddenly releases an album that’s more like, “Hey everything is fiiiine.”

This album is pretty godless. But again, this was also the album that has nothing to do with anything serious or real—on purpose—except in a reverse-psychology way. It was all on purpose.

Fast-forward to today. Clancy just released. It’s supposed to be the end of this “story” that started with Blurryface overtly, and the concepts that started in Vessel. Musically, concept-wise, it’s a return to form. They do that thing where they switch up the tempo when you’re not expecting it. You can’t pin it down to any one genre. There’s deep, dark imagery. And the story is back, not with hidden clues, but with in-your-face costumes and a music video for every song.

But the problem is, it won’t end. They said this was the end, and I thought, “if anything forces an artist to use clarity, it’s the end of a story. You have to commit to an ending. You have to say what you believe.” And that’s all I’ve been wishing would happen since 2017, when I started feeling less like “I relate to those dark thoughts and doubts,” and more like, “I’m worried about them.” Because clarity denotes security in what you believe. And the whole “battle” has been against insecurity. And to that extent, doubt.

It’s not happening, though. They released the last music video, and it really looks like the end of the story is, “and the cycle continues.” Now, there’s been hints that they’ll end the story after tour season, maybe by releasing an additional single, or some wishful thinkers are even saying “DELUXE ALBUM!!” But for now, it’s another cliffhanger-maybe-unsatisfying-ending.

The further away they’ve gotten from releasing the song “Clear,” the further away the focus seems to get from “darkness is defeatable.” And they left “it’s defeatable specifically by God” in the rear view mirror first.

And the thing is…I worry about that. Because it really looks like he’s just playing the field. That he started off with the intent to share Christ with people very genuinely, through the gift he was given in writing and music and even the gift he was given in struggling through darkness. And his strategy was, “I’ll use art to help people trust me, and then I’ll share what I’ve learned about the Truth (Jesus.)” But then…I mean, from the outside, it looks like they got popular. And they got popular by talking about their struggles. So how do I know he hasn’t just slipped into a cycle of doubting, then instead of letting brokenness and doubt drive him back to Christ, and pull others along with him, he sits in brokenness and doubt because he’s relying on the people who relate? He’s choosing to lean on crowds of people who feel the same way he does, cheering his songs back at him, as his support, when he used to lean on Christ?

And now he can’t even see his way back to what looked like (to me) the original intent—he says things like “I don’t think I’ll ever come out and say, ‘hey I found the answers, here they are, follow me,” in interviews. He skirts. He says, “stay alive, find your purpose, decide what you believe,” but he doesn’t say “here’s why you should stay alive, here’s what your purpose is, here’s what’s worth believing in, here’s where genuine life comes from.”

So now he gets to tell all his original (and several largely Christian) fans, “I haven’t abandoned Christ, I just struggle with doubt and I don’t want to alienate my friends (the point of the song Heathens.)” But he turns right around and says to his non-believing fan base, “I’m not telling you what to believe—in fact, maybe I’m not even sure of what I believe.”

And at some point, that stops being genuine. I think. I don’t think he’s reached the point where he’s not genuine yet. I don’t believe that of Tyler Joseph. I think he’s still not sure he wants to sing, with all the conviction it would take, about how Jesus is the ONLY way, when he himself feels like he struggles so much with doubt. How do you lead people where you’re imperfectly going? He has a handle on not committing suicide. So he leads them there, as far as he can. But…still. There’s life beyond this life. There’s EITHER life or death beyond this death. At some point, does he believe that, or not? Is he going to keep using his gift to supply bandaids to cannonball wounds, or not?

But I have basically been a nervous wreck whenever I think about them, the backing soundtrack of my growing years, since 2017.

I have enormous amounts of respect and this familial loyalty-feeling for both Tyler Joseph and Josh Dun (Tyler more so, because of his impact on me through his individually-released songs when I was in high school and then up through college.) I look at them on like, MTV and junk and have the same familiar, adoring, well-wishing feeling I did when a friend I knew went on to be moderately famous.

And all that to say, I love them, I don’t think any other band can do what they do or has done what they’ve done, and they’re my unmatched favorite. But I can acknowledge that there’s something that might be rotting in there, now. Something that didn’t used to be this way. And you just can’t keep going so long, claiming you’re talking about hope, without standing up for the Source of Hope. That’s all probably way more than you wanted to know. But thank you for letting me vent it all, even if you didn’t get to the bottom!

#twenty one pilots #top #tøp #Tyler Joseph #stressed out #music #my favorite band #the favorite band #five14 church #Columbus Ohio #bands #Clancy #meta #analysis #band history #Josh dun #Joshua William dun #Christianity #faith

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whumpsday · 1 year ago

Text

Petrichor

Writing Masterlist

content: vampire whumpee, buried alive, begging, rescue, asphyxiation, religious whump, death wish, starvation, claustrophobia, sensory deprivation, touch starvation, comfort, harming self for vampire feeding purposes, possible historical inaccuracies

Whumpmas in July Day 15: Buried Two Weeks of Whump Day 14: Coffin

this is vampire whump, but it does NOT take place in the K&J universe! i wanted to play around with some vampire mythology that i chose not to incorporate into K&J lore.

thank you to @lost-in-labradorite-halls for beta-reading and helping my clueless jewish ass with the christian bits and generally inspiring this piece via the wonderful vampire torture you regularly concoct!!

also have a song:

Petrichor's endless, airless torment was punctuated once again by the sound of a shovel entering the earth.

It was worth noting strictly because anything was worth noting down here. The digging wasn't out of the ordinary: it was a cemetery, of course.

This time, it sounded close. Every time it sounded near, Petrichor dared let himself hope it might reach him, though he knew such a thing was absolutely ridiculous. People dug graves to bury bodies, not exhume them.

It was utterly maddening. Someone was so close, another soul- a soul, rather, given he did not possess one any longer- and he was unable to make even the slightest peep to alert them to his distress, all oxygen having vacated his tiny box what must have been decades ago, if not centuries. At least he didn't require air anymore.

A tear rolled down his cheek at the thought, his body unable to conjure up more than that. He could not even raise an arm to tap on the wood of the coffin, the weakness having deprived him so effectively. Petrichor listened to the digging longingly, laid still and silent in his grave, the corpse he was.

I'm here. I'm still here, after all this time. Please, it can't be like this forever. I care not whether I'm rescued or slain, but please, someone put an end to it. Dear Lord, I know I'm not one of Your creatures any longer, but please help me.

As if answering his prayer, the digging slowly grew closer as the hours passed. It was odd: usually there would be a bustle of people around, and only one grave would be dug. But he could hear nothing but the digging, and it almost sounded like multiple graves. Perhaps some tragedy had befallen the family owning the plot next to his.

It was disappointing, in a way. The voices, though he could hardly make them out from under the earth, were the only human connection he had left in his horrible fate. Sometimes, he could even make out bits and pieces of the priest's sermon, which never failed to make him cry. He could not even utter a prayer aloud in his wretched state, if the Lord would even have him as he now was. And clearly, He wouldn't.

Petrichor's melancholy thoughts were swiftly interrupted when the sound of digging grew yet closer. Much closer.

As if it were right above him.

Oh dear Lord, please. This could finally be it, couldn't it? If his grave were to be exhumed, for some odd reason?

The shovel knocked against wood. Petrichor could feel it reverberate through the coffin, the first physical sensation interrupting the suffocating stillness in longer than he could know.

He wanted to weep for joy. It was finally happening, it was over. His prayers had finally been answered!

Someone opened the coffin, trading the wooden finish he'd stared at for so long for a starry sky.

Petrichor gasped for breath, his first in what may as well have been lifetimes, smelling of freshly-turned earth. It was nearly impossible to move, his muscles stiff and dry, but he was able to breathe through his nose, and open his mouth just a small amount. It was more than enough: he had air, his lungs no longer drowning.

"Holy fucking shit!" His rescuer tried to jump back, but they were inside his grave with him, and space was sparse.

It was difficult to move his eyes, but he managed it, fixing them on the first person he'd seen since his funeral. They looked young, around his age when he'd been buried or perhaps younger, dressed in an androgynous black cloak. Their clothes and face all ranged from speckled with dirt to absolutely caked in it.

Petrichor stared at them with wild, desperate eyes, and with fresh air in his lungs, made what little sound he could manage: a strangled, pleading cry.

"Oh my god. Oh my fucking god." His rescuer continued to take the Lord's name in vain and spew profanities, but Petrichor couldn't bring himself much to care. All that mattered was getting out of his coffin, the end of his suffering. But he was unable to move.

His rescuer seemed to recognize this as well, their string of expletives tapering off as they tilted their head, staring back.

They glanced up at his gravestone. "Here lies Petrichor Adams," they read out. "1797 to 1820."

They looked back down at him, squinting. "What the hell are you?"

Petrichor whined again, a tear making its way down his face once more.

His rescuer leaned in, their initial shock having given way to a surprising lack of fear. They knelt beside him, peering at his face. "You sure got some chompers in there, huh? What, like...?" They looked out over the edge of the hole, like someone would come out and announce it was all a trick, but no one did.

Petrichor could do nothing but stare pleadingly.

His rescuer tapped him on the cheek. The first touch he'd felt in forever, it almost tingled. They tilted his head to the side, exposing the scars he supposed must still mark his neck: the fangs that had condemned him to this fate.

"You supposed to be a vampire or something?" they asked, incredulous. Having picked up that he could not reply, they continued on. "Well, fuck. What, you need blood or something, is that it? Oh, no no no. I've seen the movies, I've played the video games, alright? I am not fucking with this." They produced a small rectangular object from their pocket, angling it at him in various positions and tapping it oddly before replacing it in their cloak.

The soaring hope in Petrichor's long-dead heart crashed against the rocks. He could not understand some of what the digger said, but the sentiment was clear: he would receive no help.

He would remain locked in his prison.

Petrichor's chest quaked with dry sobs. He trained his eyes upward, thankful that his wretched body could not produce tears very quickly, as his vision remained unblurred when he took in the stars. The sight of something beautiful, one last time.

The digger sighed, glancing at his headstone once more.

"Well. It does say you were beloved," they remarked. "Beloved son. They wouldn't've put that there if you were some bloodsuckin' serial killer, huh?"

Petrichor made no further attempt to look away from the stars, but allowed himself to hope again. Perhaps he would be allowed out, if the digger would take pity on him.

His rescuer shook their head. "I can't believe I'm doing this."

They produced a small blade, rolled up their sleeve, and sliced themself across the back of the arm. They positioned the wound just above his mouth, allowing their blood to drain across his tongue.

Petrichor had never tasted blood before- not posthumously, that was. He had been buried shortly after his death, without time to fall prey to his new, monstrous nature. It was nothing like blood had been as a human: the coppery taste when he'd split his lip roughhousing as a child. This, this was everything. It was the sweetest honey, it was the finest glass of red wine, it was the flavorful broth of his mother's pot roast, it was life itself flowing into his veins.

Slowly, the muscles in his body lost their stiffness, and he could move once more. He raised his head up toward the source of the lifeblood, but his savior placed their boot firmly on his chest, keeping him pinned to the floor of his coffin.

"Think that's enough for now. Don't wanna get woozy." They tore a piece of cloth from their cloak, wrapping the wound. "Cat still got your tongue, buddy?"

"P-please," Petrichor rasped, his voice weak from disuse, "Kind... sir? I cannot go on like this. Whatever fate you'd bestow upon me, I care not, so long as I'm not forced to remain inside this box. I am a vampire, it's true, but I had never consumed even a drop of blood before tonight. I mean no harm. Please allow me to leave this coffin." His voice broke, his words coming out squeaky. "I was human once, too."

Desperate begging. He'd never thought his life would come to this, but he supposed it never had. His life had ended long ago.

The boot was removed from his chest.

"Alright, Petrichor Adams, take it easy," his rescuer said. "I'm not gonna leave you down here no matter what you are. That'd be crazy fucked up." They extended a hand. "Robin."

Petrichor took their hand, his own shaking. "Thank you so very, very much. You've saved me from an unbearable fate."

Robin pulled him up to standing, his bones creaking with the unfamiliarity of movement. "Huh. It's almost like you time traveled or something. Says you died when you were 23, that's like, practically my age. Guess the 200 years in between don't really count."

Petrichor wasn't sure what came over him, but he burst into tears instantly. His body had no trouble with it now, two centuries' worth of crying flowing forth all at once as he bawled.

"They count!" he wept. "I was down there, I- I was down there the entire time! I did not sleep!"

"Alright!" Robin agreed with haste. "Okay, grandpa, you're 226 then, whatever's good. Jeez, c'mon, you don't gotta cry. It's gonna be okay."

They rubbed their thumb over his hand, and he gasped from the sensation. After so long, every touch felt one thousand times stronger than it was.

Petrichor attempted to pull himself together. "Yes, yes of- of course."

"And listen, you gotta be quieter. We're reeeeally not supposed to be out here right now." Robin hopped up, pulling Petrichor up with them.

A knapsack laid at the foot of his grave, varied pieces of jewelry and a few golden teeth visible from the top.

His rescuer was a graverobber and a thief. But Petrichor knew his situation was desperate, and chose to say nothing. He was no better, given what he was now.

Robin noticed the direction of his gaze nonetheless, offering him a mischievous smirk. "Yeah, Graverobbin' Robin, that's what they call me. And by they I mean me, 'cause no one knows I do this." They began shoveling dirt back into his grave. "Good thing I do, though. Never thought I'd save a vampire on my side hustle, but life throws you curveballs, I guess. You know baseball?"

"I do not, I'm afraid," Petrichor replied, watching mesmerized as his coffin became entombed once more.

"Bro, how are you gonna die in Boston and not know baseball? I gotta take you to a game sometime. Literally first order of business, now that I've got money for tix!"

None of it felt real. He was finally out, but two hundred years had passed. Everyone he'd ever known and loved was long-dead.

He turned, looking to his family plot, but his eyes instantly caught a horrible burning sensation. A headstone in the shape of a cross.

Petrichor averted his gaze. Of course: he'd almost forgotten. He was no longer one of The Lord's creatures.

Robin finished, slung their pack over their shoulder, and motioned him to follow. "You can crash at my apartment while you figure your shit out. I'll grab you some more blood from the butcher's once the T starts running. That's like the subway. Uh, I mean- never mind, not important. Hope pig's blood's enough for you, 'cause I can't do that every day."

At the very least, he had Robin.

"That sounds lovely."

this was originally gonna be a one-shot but i think i might write more? oh god, am i really starting another vampire series? THIS ONE WILL BE SHORTER. A MINISERIES.

if you liked this but want something a more hurt/no-comfort flavored i recommend Our Man Flint by @dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night!!

tune in on tuesday for some kane & jim!

everything taglist:

@lilac-and-lemon-whumps

@t0rture-me

@whump-for-all-and-all-for-whump

@dismemberment-on-a-tuesday-night

@whumpshaped

@pigeonwhumps

@the-scrapegoat

one-shots taglist (this is only gonna have 3-4 chapters max so im lumping it in with the one-shots):

@icyheart-and-friends

@kira-the-whump-enthusiast

@whuarri

@whumpycries

@reborrowing

event: @whumpmasinjuly @promptsforyourwhumpfic

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molarbeardoc · 11 months ago

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HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HURRR

HUR HUR HUR HUR

HURRRRRRR

HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HURRRRR

HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HURRRRRR

HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR HUR

HUR HUR HUR HUR

Hur hur

Aka PART THREE!!!!

You were supposed to perfect.

You were to rule beside me on this disgusting wasteland.

To make them all grovel at our feet.

To destroy ANYONE who stood in our way.

The others may have assisted in your creation. They may have helped you crawl. They may have fed you. They may have checked your vitals, monitored your every move, written down everything you DID in their presence.

And while I did as well…

I did it with the promise of you becoming something great…

I taught you to speak.

I even remember your first word: beaker!

I spent hours in that DAMNED building, helping you walk on your own two legs.

I showed you the marvellous wonders of the world, even the ones I found pathetic and vile…

When you were sick, I never left you alone.

When you were hungry, I was always the first to feed you.

Even during the storms!

When the bolts of Zeus and the lion roared vicious and earthquaking thunder, every time you were afraid…

I…

NEVER…

left your side…

So why would you think it was okay to leave mine?

Was what you saw so overwhelming that you’d think you’d steal my life’s work without consequences? Was what you read so aching that you just HAD to run away?

To run away from them?

Run away from me?

That’s not how this game works…

When you go against me, you are going against life and death itself.

You are a peasant and I am royalty.

You are but drop of water while I am a mighty blaze

You are prey and I… the predator

Do you understand now?

Do you understand the great turmoil you’ve brought on not only yourself but those around you?

I fail to see evidence that you do..

And while I yap and yowl and hiss and snarl and whisper and retort…

You’ll never believe until I SHOW you, why everyone fears me..

A man’s words mean nothing when it comes to his actions. Shall he fail to fill his hole, it will become his new grave. It shall hold him until he sees his last sky, breathe his last breath, feel his last touch, smell his last aroma, and hear his last song. It was hold him for before he dies and after he dies.

Fortunately for me,

Gods do not die…

When you’ve angered them, there is but one way to appease them.

Through sacrifice…

Your suffering will be eternal.

And I’ll make sure to include your acquaintance in your turmoil…

…

It had been a fun-filled day! The two had spent it making new conspiracies theories… Well at least Bive did. She managed to make them all connect in one way or another. Split was a different story. She somehow managed to get Bive to play a few of the games that were in the dinner.

Note to future self: Bive is really good at air hockey. Guess when you’re a paranoid detective looking for danger around every corner, you’ve gotta be quick on your toes!

They had stayed there virtually all day! It was nearly dark when they had finished. As the two made their way back to the elevator, Split glanced down at her flea-ridden hairy friend, noticing her tired expression and feeling a side of self-pride rising in her chest.

Her plan had worked perfectly.

She was exhausted. Split wondered how she even managed at all, she looked as if she were about to fall over.

"Hey Bive..?"

"Mehm?"

"You alright?"

"Mhm…"

Split gave her a concerned smile. Maybe she should stay with her? Just to be safe of course.

"Uhh so… Would you mind if I stayed over tonight?"

"No."

Oh…! It was pretty straightforward. That’s pretty nice actually. They get to have a sleepover! Darn she’s gonna have to go back and get some clothes.. Oh well!

…

Eventually the two made it back to the funny maze, of course after visiting Split’s floor to allow her to get her sleepwear, Split having to guide Bive away from any walls to ensure she didn’t walk into them. As well as keep her away from Scary Mike and Fleshy. Scary Mike was, of course, Scary Mike; randomly appearing in hallways as its corrosive black oil (🇺🇸) dripped from the walls and evaporated once it disappeared. It even reached its hand from around corners trying to grab at one of them as if it intended to cause harm but would always evaporate into cloud of foul smelling smoke before it could.

Fleshy, however, wasn’t actually a problem. If anything it was more of a sweetheart, curiously watching and following the two while babbling random nonsense. It even went as far as the help guide Split to Bive’s corner of the maze whilst protecting the two from Scary Mike, hissing and growling at it every time it saw it until it saw the cloud of smoke.

In all honesty, as weird as her roommates, if you could even call them that, were, they seemed interesting and were decently enjoyable company. She might have to visit more often just so she can speak with the fleshcousin. Maybe even befriend it like she did the other! Who knew they were all such sweethearts?

Once they made it to Bive’s part of the maze, Fleshy gargled a difficult to understand farewell before leaving, disappearing around the corner as if seemingly purred. Fleshcousins are weird… yet cute in a silly way.

It was rather chaotic. Papers and empty styrofoam coffee cups littered the floor, causing the Fruit-taur to wonder if she ever cleaned. Well… Now that she thought about it, she never bathed. It made sense for her not to clean up. As they descended deeper she started to take notice of red string, old photographs, and even thumbtacks on the floor. If that wasn’t bad enough, there was writing on the walls made with white paint or lead.

They were either equations or some sort of question that related to one of her theories.

`2 + 2 IS 4 NO MATTER WHAT!`

`Clown military hiding inside cacti?`

`Snow soldiers collaborating with Gnarpians?`

`Government using sonic waves to make people hungry to buy more products from companies?!`

Okay Split could see that partially happening it wasn’t too unbelievable.

"Wow… You must be hard at work here huh?"

"Mhm.."

Split continued to look out for any stray thumbtacks before coming to a stop as two made it to her 'room'. It had the basic necessities as well as coffee maker, tiny mini fridge, and her famous corkboard.. And it was much larger than she expected. How much free time did she have? Uh… Oh well!

After getting dressed, she sat beside Bive, watching as the detective fought to stay awake before eventually succumbing to sleep.

Split watched as she fell still completely, the only indication of life being her side rising and falling.

It took her longer to fall asleep but her own thoughts kept her busy until she did. Why didn’t she sleep often? Is it insomnia? Or did she just not like sleeping? Why wouldn’t anyone like sleeping though? Did something happen that made her just stay awake?

For now, her questions could receive answers later as she slowly drifted off into her own peaceful slumber.

Perfect…

HI HI HI HOPE YOU ENJOYED. PART FOUR IS GONNA BE DEVASTATING RAHHHHH BATS EYELASHES MALICIOUSLY

#regretevator #regretevator bive #regretevator split #bive #split #bive regretevator #split regretevator #split x bive #bive x split #spive #regretevator spive #spive regretevator #fanfic #spive angst #angst #she regret on my evator

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luvvixu · 2 years ago

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dazai x reader (she/her)

🏡🧵 home sweet home pt. 1

series

genre: fluff, domestic au

synopsis: what does it look like to have a normal daily life at dazai's household? just you coming home to your little family after a long and exhaustion work. this is the life you and dazai had been dreaming of.

warning: mentioned of breastfeeding, pranking, anxiety

word count: 1.5k

a/n: i got inspired to write a story when i saw a website that said this song is the most therapeutic breastfeeding song. and it came to happened that dazai was the last anime character i saw that day.

so i was like, hmm...what would it be like to have a family with my suicidal maniac crush? so yeah, here it is.

oh yeah, one last note, i kinda made him self-explanatory character on this one???

song - invisible string by taylor swift

a long day just ended for you as a sigh escaped from your lips. you are on your way home to your little family after doing some shift at the agency.

while waiting for the traffic jam to untangle, you open your phone and reveal the wallpaper that never fails to make you smile whenever you see it.

a picture of your new born baby and your husband, dazai osamu.

the statement never lies, your lips crescent a smile at the sight of your little family. you also decided to call your husband who's on his day off and being a male wife for today.

within a few rings, dazai picked up the phone. the sound of your baby's laughter first rang through the phone, making your smile widen.

"hello, my love~ are you on your way home?" your husband's honeyed voice said through the phone.

your shoulder loses its tense from the fatigue just by hearing the sound of him. "yeah. i'm sorry if i didn't arrive on time, there's a small emergency happened. but atsushi-kun and i have already settled it down before it gets worse."

"of course, my wife is good at solving problems." dazai complimented you. he always knows what is best for you.

"anyways, how's things going there?"

"ooh, wait. hey emi-chan! say hi to mama." you hear a baby noise as your husband shifts his phone onto someone.

"emi-chan~" you cooed, and your five month old baby let out a cute babble just by hearing your voice. it makes you laugh and almost die on your spot due to her overflowing cuteness.

"did you miss mama?" your back rested on the seat as your vehicle started to move. luckily, you had a phone holder in front so you won't have to hold it while driving at the same time.

"yes." dazai said in his baby voice, imitating your daughter.

you let out a giggle. "mama misses you too, emi-chan. when i get home, i will kiss your chubby cheeks and watch cartoons together!"

"yah! what about me?" your another baby—i mean dazai interrupted you. a picture of him pouting already depicted on your mind.

"hmm? are you saying something, emi?" you playfully said. the noises coming from osamu intensify. he was complaining, pouting, and whining at you like a big baby. your big baby.

"ahem! sweetheart, emi-chan just asked me if you miss your husband too?" sensing that you did not plan to respond to him as your husband, he changes his tone into a deeper one, like an incognito voice.

"who's there with you, emi?! did you let someone enter the house?" you continued to play dumb until you finally pulled up to your house where your two babies are in.

dazai was whining on the phone and he seemed to want to fight his daughter just because he didn't receive any attention from you.

ignoring him, you purposely muted the call and lowered the volume as you carefully tip-toed inside the house.

"mommy is such a tease, isn't she?" and there you saw your own family. emi was sitting on her father's lap while chewing her pacifier, and dazai was on the floor, still pouting as he talks to his child who's clearly unaware.

"i'm getting jealous of you now, emi-chan." he jokingly said, booping her nose and then proceeded to bite her chubby cheeks carefully. you forced yourself to swallow the laugh in your throat.

"y/n has been unresponsive for a while, did she end the call?" dazai checked his phone when he realized you had been really quiet. the call was still on, so he sought for you.

"darling? are you still there?"

no answer.

"y/n? hello? sweetie, can you hear me?"

still no answer.

suddenly, his pout turns into a deep frown. you could clearly see that he's becoming worried now to the point that he put emi back to the cradle.

he squatted down to meet his daughter's gaze. dazai holds her little hands to give it some pecks. "emi, my cute little baby…stay here and do not do anything, alright? nothing's wrong so no need to worry. papa will keep you and mama safe."

your heart melted at the scene. no matter how worried he is, dazai wouldn't let himself show his fear in front of his daughter who cannot even understand anything, yet.

you knew you didn't make the wrong choice of starting a family with him.

"papa is just going to call mama." he continued. when you saw him about to pick up his call, you immediately ended the call.

you watch his face become more concerned when the call ends without even saying a goodbye to him.

dazai started to bite his nails, a secret habit of his whenever he feels anxious. without any second wasted, he called your number. the sound of your ringtone made him almost dashed to your hidden spot.

"y/n! my god, you're here!" dazai pulled you into a tight hug as soon as he saw you.

you let out an awkward chuckle. "hi?"

"jesus! don't do it again, please. i thought something happened to you!" dazai buried his face into the crook of your neck. you suddenly feel guilty when you sense his shaky breath.

he is really worried.

a hand if yours traveled into his head to give his fluffy brown hair a soft brush to give him comfort. "i'm sorry, baby. i didn't mean to get you worried. i just want to surprise you."

"it's alright—"

"waaahhhhhh!"

both of your heads immediately turned to the direction where the sound came from, emi was crying. you and osamu's parental instincts kicked in as you literally ran towards her.

you carefully picked her up and cooed. "shh~ mama's here, mama's here. aw, why is my baby emi crying?" you land a kiss on her cheeks that was covered with tears.

dazai gently guided you to sit on the couch. he grabbed a tissue and wiped the tears that emi had shed. "don't cry, emi-chan. we're here now." he mumbled softly.

you checked her diaper, it's not full. you tried to make her laugh, but still emi continues to wail loudly.

a sigh escaped from your lips. you gently rocked her and turned your head to your husband who worriedly gazed at his crying daughter.

"when was the last time she drank milk?" dazai ponders for a moment. his eyes widened when he realized.

"that's right! emi just woke up when you called me. she naps for like two and half hours. no wonder she cries because she's hungry." he explains.

"go and make her baby formula." you instructed him because you are busy soothing your child.

dazai chucked hesitantly. "the thing is, it ran out. emi drank the last baby formula earlier. so, i guess we're going to do the traditional way of feeding her."

"♪ and isn't it just so pretty to think ♪" dazai sang a song you two discovered while randomly streaming on spotify.

"♪ all along there was some ♪" he said to you that this song reminded him of the time when the two of you first met.

"♪ invisible string ♪" singing the invisible string has become his hobby whenever he is watching you putting emi to sleep. the song serves as the lullaby that made her fall asleep.

"♪ tying you to me~? ♪" your husband dedicated this song to you. not only it became your couple's love song, wedding song, and now your daughter's lullaby.

overall, this is a sweet moment. but it doesn't…

you tried not to lash out of dazai when he was right there beside you, watching how you breastfeed your daughter. his hands were fixed on emi's tiny ones, caging it playfully and made her squirm. which causes her to latches on your sore breast a bit harder than the usual sucking.

"osamu, for god's sake…let her feed in peace! and why are you even watching me feed her?" you caresses her head gently, making sure that she would not freak out at your little yell.

your husband rolled his eyes. "why not? i've also experienced that before…being fed by you—so, no need to be so shy about me witnessing it." this man had an audacity to make a dirty foreshadow in front of your daughter.

a pillow flew on his straight into his face. "osamu! i swear, get out for a moment." you tried to calm yourself. but dazai doesn't care and continued to play with emi, resting his head on your shoulder.

meanwhile, your little princess was in no mood to play with her daddy. emi got irritated because she couldn't move her hands, dazai has them. so, she let out a squirm and then a whine.

acting hurriedly, you rock her while giving your biggest death glare on your husband.

"welp…" dazai took the cue as he sheepishly go out of the room, finally giving you and emi some private time together.

"daddy is such a crackhead, isn't he?" you talked to your daughter who just looked at you with her big beautiful eyes while sucking your breast. you couldn't help but to squeal at your daughter.

"and you're such a cutie, emi-emi!"

©luvvixu2023

#dazai x reader #dazai fluff #dazai osamu #bsd #bsd dazai #domestic dazai #bungou stray dogs #fanfiction #anime #fluff #fanfic #luvvixu

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