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edenesth · 1 year ago

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The Way to His Heart [17]

Pairing: general!Seonghwa x wife!reader

AU: arranged marriage au (Joseon era)

Word Count: 3.6k

Summary: Life has been hell ever since your mother's passing many years ago. Despite being from a prominent family, you've never received the privileges associated with it. It only got worse with the arrival of your stepmother and her daughters. When the intimidating General Park was in search of a wife, your father seized the opportunity to dispose of you, simultaneously securing a connection with the powerful general—killing two birds with one stone.

Warning: eMoTiOnAl DaMaGe

Part 16 | Fic Masterlist | Part 18

How dare he—

Jongho gritted his teeth, his fists tightening at the despicable tactics the fourth prince employed to disrupt your relationship with the general. Usually composed, the assistant struggled to contain his rising anger, feeling an overwhelming urge to resort to violence.

Meanwhile, all Eunsook cared about was your well-being. She empathised with your past, knowing all too well the horrors you endured in your old home. The idea of being married to someone potentially more ruthless than your previous abusers must have been terrifying. Despite understanding the reasons behind her master's actions, she acknowledged his moral ambiguity.

Her only wish was for you to accept that he would never hurt you.

Despite the whirlwind of emotions stirred by the revelation that Seonghwa might have been involved in more than just supervising your father's punishments, your expression remained unreadable. Yeosang held his breath, watching you intently, half-expecting a reaction of terror or betrayal. Whether it was shock, anger, or disbelief, he anticipated something negative.

Desperation clawed at the prince's heart as he clung to his last resort, willing it to work. Foolish as it might seem, the truth was he had no prior experience in wooing anyone, let alone a married woman committed to another. He fumbled in the dark, unsure of the right ways to win your heart, driven only by the conviction that he could be a better husband than General Park.

In his mind, he painted a picture of himself as the ideal partner for you, one who would treat you with the care and affection he believed you deserved. He saw himself as the only one who could truly understand the pain etched into your body, just as you might understand his. And so, he resolved to pursue you relentlessly, even if it meant resorting to drastic measures that could potentially cause you further trauma.

For the fourth prince, the ends justified the means. If it meant having you by his side, it would all be worth it. He vowed to spend the rest of his days showering you with nothing but love and kindness to make up for what he put you through today.

It's time you come to me now, darling.

However, he was in for a rude awakening if he believed you would run into his arms seeking comfort after learning the terrifying truth about the monster your husband turned out to be.

Instead, after a moment of collecting yourself, you lifted your head to meet his eyes, a newfound intensity burning within your gaze, "I'm sorry if this offends you, Your Highness, but what exactly do you hope to achieve by showing and telling me all of this? My husband acted as he did because those people deserved it. As for my father, if you could even call him that, he abused me all my life and killed my mother; he deserved whatever my husband gave him and more."

Though the revelations about the general's potential actions during those extra hours unsettled you, your anger shifted towards Yeosang for bringing them to light in such a manner. Clenching your fists to conceal your trembling hands, you remained resolute. Even if you didn't condone Seonghwa's actions, he was still your husband, and your love for him remained unchanged.

As you stood there, the annoyance toward the fourth prince simmered within you, each word he uttered adding fuel to the fire. From the very beginning, he had refused to acknowledge your new title as Lady Park, a small but significant act of disrespect. Then, he persisted in bringing up topics from your past, despite your obvious discomfort and desire to move on. Now, his deliberate attempts to tarnish the general's image felt almost like a personal attack.

The sarcasm laced in his words when speaking of your husband grated on your nerves. Seonghwa had sacrificed so much for the country, and the least he deserved was respect. It dawned on you now what San had meant about Yeosang's difficult nature. You finally understood why the prince's behaviour could be infuriating.

Jongho and Eunsook exchanged glances, their expressions shifting from concern to awe as they watched you stand your ground against the fourth prince's attempts to undermine your husband. At that moment, it became clear to them that perhaps their worries had been for nothing all along. They should have had more faith in your unwavering love and loyalty to their master.

Yeosang's confidence faltered as he observed your stern expression and heard the firmness in your voice. This was not the reaction he had anticipated from you. Perhaps he had underestimated the depth of your love and loyalty to General Park.

Could the Queen have been right all along?

Feeling a sense of urgency and realising he had no other viable option, His Highness took a deep breath and decided to come clean about his intentions once and for all. He couldn't risk angering you any further than he already had. It was time to be honest, even if it meant facing the consequences of his actions.

The smugness that had once characterised his demeanour now vanished, replaced by a palpable sense of shame as he lowered his head slightly, "I... gosh, I am sorry, my lady. I acknowledge that it was wrong of me to manipulate the situation like that. I'll be honest with you. There was no actual banquet planned. In truth, I haven't celebrated my birthday in years. It only serves as a painful reminder of my existence."

Your brows furrowed in apprehension as you listened, allowing him to continue with his explanation, "I take it you're wondering why I despise my own existence. You're likely unaware of my reputation, unlike others. You may have noticed the birthmark here," he gestured to the red mark on the side of his face, prompting a nod from you.

He offered a faint smile, "Throughout my life, I've been treated like a freak because of this mark. As a member of the royal family, I'm sure you're aware there's an expectation of flawless appearance. So, imagine the shock when they saw the fourth prince with such a conspicuous blemish, my parents included. Both within and beyond the palace walls, people have whispered about my birth, deeming it a curse, questioning if I should have even been born at all."

"Since reaching adulthood, I've rejected numerous marriage proposals. Every woman presented to me has regarded me with disdain in their eyes. But then I met you, my lady, that day in the cherry blossom garden. You were the first person to wear your own mark proudly, without a trace of revulsion. It was as if you saw beyond my appearance. I suppose you could say it was love at first sight for me. I'm in love with you, Miss Jang, and that's why I've brought you here today—to propose to you."

Everything suddenly fell into place.

The puzzle pieces of his behaviour over the past days and weeks finally clicked together, forming a clear picture. Empathy flooded your heart as you realised the depth of his struggles. You knew all too well what it felt like to be singled out, treated like an outsider even by those closest to you, and shown no respect despite your status.

However, you felt a pang of shock upon learning about his feelings for you and his pursuit. It was unexpected, to say the least. You hadn't imagined that he harboured such emotions, especially considering the complexities of your respective situations.

Observing your softened demeanour while listening to the prince's confession, Jongho and Eunsook felt a resurgence of worry. They understood Yeosang's struggles and empathised with his difficult life. Despite that, they couldn't ignore the fact that you were a married woman. Regardless of what His Highness may have gone through, pursuing someone who was already committed was inherently wrong.

The two of them exchanged a concerned glance, silently acknowledging the complexity of the situation. While they sympathised with the prince, they couldn't condone his actions, especially his attempt to come between you and your husband using such underhanded tactics.

Your chaperones would soon find reassurance in your response after a moment of contemplative silence. With a deep inhale, you attempted to offer Yeosang a smile, despite the earlier anger you felt towards him, "Look, Your Highness, I understand the hardships you've endured, and probably continue to endure. I genuinely empathise with you. I'm also truly grateful to have met you. I've never had any friends before, so meeting someone who shares similar interests means a lot to me."

His Highness grinned sadly, "Ah yes, I'm sensing a 'but' there."

With a light chuckle, you nodded, "But it's precisely because I see you as a friend and care about you that I want you to understand that whatever you think you might feel for me isn't love."

He stared at you with wide eyes, but you halted him before he could protest, "Perhaps you've mistaken the feelings of gratitude and joy from finally meeting someone who treats you sincerely for love," You gently explained, "My prince, love doesn't simply happen at first sight like that. It requires much more than that; two people must go through so much together before they truly understand their feelings. I've been through it myself, and I can assure you that what you're feeling is definitely not love."

"Lastly, please address me as Lady Park. I haven't gone by Miss Jang for a while now. While we can remain friends, I must insist that you respect my marriage and abandon any plans you may have. My heart belongs solely to the general, and that won't change."

You sighed at the pleading look in the prince's eyes, understanding that convincing him wouldn't be easy. But you had said your piece, and the rest was up to him to realise. Feeling the onset of a headache from everything, you bowed one final time, saying, "If there's to be no banquet as you've mentioned, we'll be taking our leave then. Thank you for having us today, Your Highness. I wish you happiness."

I'm almost there, my love.

Nearly two days had passed when Seonghwa finally arrived back in the city and approached his own estate. The journey had been one of the most challenging he had ever undertaken. He cursed his injury for slowing him down, as he had to make several stops to rest and change his bandages, mimicking the actions of the medical team soldiers who had tended to him. Despite his urgency to leave camp, he had taken care to pack enough supplies to last the trip back.

Regardless of the constant yearning to be with you again, he felt a twinge of guilt for leaving his army behind abruptly due to such personal matters. If his soldiers knew about his absence, some might consider him irresponsible for his actions.

Shaking his head, he recalled how he used to criticise some of his men distracted by thoughts of their loved ones during battles, viewing them as foolish for letting such distractions affect them. If someone had told him he would act similarly in the future, he wouldn't have believed them for a moment.

The things you do to me, my wife.

The mere thought of seeing and being near you again made his heart flutter. He admitted to himself that he had become one of those fools he once criticised, but he wouldn't change a thing. Experiencing love had shifted his perspective entirely, compelling him to do whatever it took to keep you by his side forever. Having saved you from a life of suffering, he couldn't bear the thought of leaving you alone again. He was determined to be the one to bring you joy, protect you, and stay with you for the rest of your days.

Or... was he really?

His conviction would soon waver as the ominous sensation in the pit of his stomach intensified with each step closer to his home. Alongside it, the pain in his abdomen escalated steadily. What should have been a mere graze now felt like something far more serious. In truth, the discomfort in his insides was becoming unbearable.

Seonghwa gritted his teeth as he clutched the area of his wound one last time, his breath catching in his throat as a sudden wave of pain coursed through him. With a determined exhale, he squeezed his eyes shut, willing himself to endure the agony that surged within him.

At the entrance of his estate, the staff responsible for guarding widened their eyes in recognition of their master's arrival. He quickly straightened his posture, putting on a facade of strength to conceal any signs of his injury, "Master, you're back!" One of the staff members exclaimed, their surprise evident as they rushed forward to assist him down from his horse.

Within moments, Jongho emerged from the estate, his expression a mix of concern and relief as he hurried to the general's side, "Sir, I assume you've received my letter?"

Your husband nodded, "I did. His Highness also sent me one, mentioning his intention to propose to your mistress."

The assistant's eyes rounded in surprise, realising the extent of the fourth prince's confidence to openly declare his intentions to pursue you to the general, "Well, he certainly made the attempt."

Seonghwa's steps faltered at this revelation, and he turned to face Jongho, who seemed equally uneasy, "So, it's already happened?"

Nodding, the younger man blinked anxiously, "S-sir, it's not good. The mistress knows," The general felt his blood run cold at that, but he pressed on, "Please, be more specific."

Jongho swallowed hard, bowing his head apologetically, "She learned about the Jang family's punishments and what you've done to the former minister. The prince took us to the palace torture chambers as part of his scheme. While she stood her ground there, she demanded that I tell her everything that happened as soon as we got back."

Suddenly, Seonghwa understood the source of his ominous feeling. He should have known better than to believe he could keep the truth hidden from you forever. Surely, your compassionate heart would struggle to accept what he did. Taking a shaky breath, he asked, "Where is she now?"

"She's in the House of Lotus, sir. She hasn't left since we returned from the palace two days ago. But don't worry, Eunsook has been making sure she eats her meals." Jongho reassured him.

With a nod of gratitude towards the assistant, your husband made his way towards your quarters, passing by the head maid who was taken aback by his sudden appearance. She knew he should have still been at the warzone. However, a quick glance from Jongho conveyed that the master had returned because of their letter. Understanding dawned on her, and she could only hope for the best.

The general's breath hitched as he laid eyes on you again after so long. There you sat in the pavilion, your attention fixed on the lotus pond before you. You appeared just as radiant as the last time he had seen you. However, this time, instead of your usual lady etiquette books laid open, his heart lurched at the reports detailing your father's latest status beside you. These confidential documents, presented to Seonghwa monthly, tracked the former minister's movements. Biting back the wince that threatened to escape him, he ignored the increasing pain in his abdomen and called out your name.

As your head snapped up at the familiar voice, you gasped at the sight of your husband at the entrance of your quarters. Slowly rising from your seat, you cautiously approached him, unsure if this was a hallucination. For so long, you had imagined him here, in this very spot, so many times that you couldn't count. You hoped it was not your mind playing tricks on you again.

This isn't another dream, is it?

You didn't understand why he was back; there was no news about the war being over yet. It's not that you didn't want him here, you just didn't expect him to be here all of a sudden. Standing before him, you felt your eyes water and your heart pound from seeing him again. It took you a moment to process his presence before you whispered, "S-Seonghwa... what are you doing here?" When he did not respond, you noticed his gaze staring past you at the reports Jongho was forced to hand over to you.

Despite the intense urge to pull you into his arms and never let go, all he manages is to harden his expression, "So, I see you've found out." He said, his voice strained.

This wasn't how either of you had imagined your reunion after the tearful goodbye. With a deep sigh, you nodded grimly, your mind flashing with reminders of your family's physical punishments and the gruesome things he'd done to your father, momentarily shattering the loving image in your eyes, "Yes, I did. And if I hadn't, were you planning never to tell me? What happened to not keeping secrets between us, hm?"

Truth be told, you found yourself no longer harbouring anger towards him for this matter. Over the past two days, you'd taken time to reflect, understanding his perspective and somewhat rationalising his actions. While you weren't exactly upset, you simply desired to hear the whole truth from him directly and perhaps receive a plea for forgiveness. In any case, you were prepared to run into his embrace.

Your words to the prince in the palace were sincere. Your heart belonged only to Seonghwa, and that wouldn't change. You firmly believed in the strength of your love, likening it to the resilience of your lotus flowers, enduring despite the obstacles. This situation, you believed, was just one more challenge to overcome together.

But instead of giving you the response you expected, your heart sank at the cold smirk he wore before speaking, "That's right, I never would have told you the truth if it were up to me. You women are so troublesome; it was stupid of me to think I could actually handle one for the rest of my life. Besides, what difference would it have made? This is who I am, and you knew about my reputation from the moment you were promised to me. So, are you really that surprised?"

Crossing his arms over his chest, he turned away from you, adding, "You've seen the reports. Now that you know what I'm capable of, I won't bother hiding anything from you any longer."

His words pierced your heart like daggers, leaving you reeling in disbelief. Shaking your head in denial, you whimpered his name, hoping for some semblance of the man you loved to emerge from behind that cold facade. This wasn't what you wanted from him. You wanted him to fight for you, to reassure you of his love, just as you had done for him. Confusion gnawed at your insides.

Why wasn't he fighting for you?

What was going on?

"Seonghwa, I-I don't understand—"

Before you could finish, he cut you off abruptly, his words laced with finality, "Yes, it was me. I did all those horrible things to your family. That's the kind of monster I am. But now, you're free. Your family is gone, and no one can dictate your choices anymore. You're your own person. You can do whatever you want and love whoever you want. If it's the fourth prince you wish to be with, you have my blessing. Maybe he's the one who can give you the companionship you desire."

With that, he turned and stormed out of your quarters, leaving you alone and bewildered, with no assurance of his return.

Once out of your sight, he released a shaky breath and clutched his wound, feeling the fabric already soaked with blood seeping through his bandage. Despite his blurring vision, he stumbled through the estate, desperate to depart before anyone noticed his condition. Seonghwa wasn't oblivious; he knew he must have been poisoned when the pain of his injury became too unbearable.

With a sinking feeling, he realised he didn't have much time left, and perhaps Prince Yeosang was right. Maybe what you truly needed was a husband who would consistently stay by your side and not cause you the worry he did.

I'm sorry, my love. This is for the best.

« Preview of Part 18 »

"Physician Jung, there's a letter for you."

Yunho furrowed his brows, pausing his work on his latest concoction aimed at alleviating all of your scars. Despite the challenges he faced in this endeavour, he remained steadfast in his commitment to helping you restore your skin to its original state.

Setting aside the herbs he was working with, he approached the entrance of his quarters to accept the letter from Jongho, "For me?"

The younger man nodded in confirmation, "Yes, oddly enough, it arrived via a military messenger. Initially, I assumed it was intended for the general, but it's specifically addressed to you. General Officer Song requests your urgent attention."

Blinking, the doctor processed the information, "Wait, do you mean General Park has returned to the estate?"

Jongho smiled sheepishly and rubbed the back of his neck, "Oh, yeah. He arrived unannounced just a while ago, thanks to our letter. I suppose the situation at the warzone must have calmed down if he's able to return so quickly. He's with the mistress now. Let's hope things will improve with him here."

Relieved, Yunho nodded and quickly unfolded the letter. His stomach dropped, and his eyes widened at the hastily scribbled words, "H-he's with the mistress, you say?"

"Yes, what about it?" The assistant furrowed his brows in confusion as he watched Yunho shove the letter back into his hands before bolting out. Reading the letter himself, he soon found himself rushing in the same direction, dread filling his being.

No, this can't be.

I was so excited that I got to writing this as soon as I completed all the assignments for the first half of my semester! Only three parts until the end of this story, how we feeling out there?🤧

Holy crap, thank you so much for 1.4k followers! As always, thank you so much for reading and please let me know your thoughts! <3

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#edenesth #the way to this heart #ateez #ateez fanfic #ateez fanfiction #park seonghwa #ateez seonghwa #arranged marriage au #joseon era #seonghwa x reader #seonghwa x you #ateez fic #historical au

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mrhaitch · 11 months ago

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hi mr.haitch!

as someone who's interested in academia, do you think you can speak a bit about your experiences and journey? it's something i've had my eye on for a bit but honestly don't even know where to begin and idk if i'm just having a mini life crisis because i'm feeling unfulfilled in my current field.

I think I've spoken about this before, but I'll do it again. Please note that I am currently not in academia at present, although I do have plans to return. Currently I'm teaching functional skills in English and maths to kids in their late teens (many of them with severe emotional, behavioural, or learning disorders) so this will be more of a retrospective.

(Be warned, it's long)

Let's get one thing very clear: I was a bad student and my road into academia is and remains crooked. I had bad grades in highschool, an appalling attendance record, and spent a great deal of highschool in detention. It is a miracle that I finished highschool, and a further miracle that I was accepted by a college, and fluked through my A-levels.

I never paid attention in class unless it was something I cared about. Homework was a mythical concept, I never participated, rarely engaged, and generally treated school with disdain.

And I didn't get better until I was in my twenties.

Some of it was anxiety, a lot of it was arrogance.

So fast forward through my undergrad years where I oscillated wildly between workaholic frenzy (political philosophy, existentialism, philosophy of religion) to staunch absenteeism (philosophy of language, socratic philosophy). In my final year things kind of clicked, I knuckled down, got into a few fights with my lecturers, forced my grades up, and came out with a good enough grade to get onto a masters course.

This was largely in thanks to my writing, which I'd become increasingly dedicated to, completing and submitting my first (and thankfully unpublished novel) in the process. During my master's I revelled in the greater degree of independence, how I could direct and engage with the material in my own way, and how it connected with my passions (creative writing). I still had an arrogant moment, failed to prepare for an assignment and failed it. The failure capped my overall grade at a pass which sank any hope for a scholarship.

Dejected and pissed off, I then took the first job that came my way and gave up on academia. I languished in the service industry for four years and thought I'd amount to nothing more. Some political nonsense happened towards the end, I pushed back against the wrong people who promptly tried to fire me under false (and illegal) pretenses.

Haitch pushed me to look into doing my PHD again. I applied, teaching out to one of my old MA teachers to be my supervisor and he accepted with far more enthusiasm than I could've hoped for. I got a loan from the government and vowed to throw myself at my PHD as hard as I could, and I did.

From 2019 until early 2023, I worked five days a week (plus some time in the weekends) on my thesis and my writing. 8-5 every day with my nose in a book, or plugging away at a manuscript, or drafting papers. I lived and breathed it every second. I kept a journal where I pushed myself to work harder and harder to achieve what I felt was my dream. During that time I was determined to come out with my experience and qualifications than I could possibly need for an entry position. I shadowed my colleagues when they taught classes, exchanged emails with academics I admired, published more short fiction.

Brick by brick I built a portfolio and a modest reputation. Then I was invited to speak at a prestigious convention in the UK. I met legendary literary agents, famous authors, hung out with people I admired, and had a chance to read some of my work to an audience and discuss its themes.

I taught for two years, while at the same time working two other contracts for various outreach bodies teaching and supporting kids from deprived or disadvantaged backgrounds.

And I still can't get a permanent position.

I've been shortlisted once or twice, and knocked back at the first hurdle a whole bunch.

Academic positions are like gold dust scattered down the back of a unicorn as it leaps over a double rainbow. It is hard to get a job teaching and researching at a university, especially in the humanities. It is endless rejection with minimal feedback, banging your head against a brick wall over and over wondering if you felt it move or if you've just softened your skull.

It's hard, very hard, and takes a lot of commitment and a lot of sacrifice, with zero guarantee you'll get anyway.

But you do it because you can't imagine yourself doing anything else.

The eagle eyed amongst you will recognise this as the same conclusion I reached about writing, and they're right. It's the same. Often thankless, frequently difficult. A feeling of toiling alone in the dark, waiting for someone, anyone to peer into the well you fell down.

But as hard as it is, if that's the path you've chosen, a part of you doesn't care. You do it anyway. You do it in spite of what it costs you, and the little it gives back.

At least, that's how I see it. Thank you for attending my rambling, somewhat doom-laden, TED talk.

#mr.haitch #mrhaitch #mr haitch #mrhaitch answers you too

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offrozenmemoirs · 1 year ago

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"... you know. Like as not, you probably don't remember much of it, but I still wanted you to know, for what it's worth - I'm flattered that you'd go so far as to be such a flirt with me. If nothing else, it was a hell of a confidence boost."

All of Tahrea looks so tiny from atop the Reus peaks - the once-grand fortress that now housed the Crownswatch looked like little more than a stone house from up here. The winds, having died down from the presence of a god that the tiefling sought to defy, blows softly through Parveen's hair as he sits next to her. His legs are curled up so that he can lean his arms and chin on them, gazing out over the view at first - and then towards Creed herself.

"But, alas. While chastity is not among the vows of the Hitochi, it seems fate - and our tastes - had other plans. And, it's no offense to you, truly! Honestly, you are�� statuesque. But, you go one way, I go both ways - and even so, I'm... truly not even sure whether or not you'd be my type as it is. But, there's nothing wrong with that, is there?"

Unprompted Asks || Accepting! @ofthescatteredstars

Creed still wore her goggles, the world still swimming in colors from her experience with the Forefather's Flayleaf. She's usually got a much higher tolerance for flayleaf, or any sort of situation that could lead to her being poisoned or drugged. So, being completely knocked off of her rocker by her most recent recreational use of drugs...Had been an experience, and then she found out that she had flirted with the kineticist. Slightly embarrassing, but nothing she was unused to.

"Ah, it's no worry, like I said, my sibling Liyan might be more your type than me. I mean, they're a traveler like me, but definitely more of a romantic. Plus, I think you'd be a good fit for 'em. Get em' outta their shell and all that. You'd think that being a bard would mean they're more social, and to an extent, they are, but they still prefer one on one time."

Creed supposes that she can't blame their youngest sibling. Growing up with little attention focused on them, they were more of the type to act out at first, if only to be noticed by their parents...Then they wound up studying as a bard, learning magic and music to use in tandem. Rafan had raised them, mostly because by the time they were old enough to really be more social with their siblings, Ariortos had fully thrown himself into his studies and work with their grandfather, and Creed herself had begun her training with Ramona, being gone for months at a time but returning home to check in. She'd grown into herself, and some of that confidence passed on to them.

"Usually, I'm pretty resilient to stuff like flayleaf. Guess I'll just have to build my tolerance during downtime...Or stick to my regular supply for a while. You're a good kid though, Parveen, I'm sure whoever you wind up with will be lucky to have you."

#the burning path (in character; creed)#ofthescatteredstars

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odditycircus-2002 · 2 years ago

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New Era!Shang and Medusa Reader being childhood friends, she meets a young Shang who is struggling on the streets near her village and secretly brings him medicine and supplies, even letting him stay in their homes basement secretly at night so he has a place to rest. He brings her gifts that he has stolen or made her as thanks and feels like he is able to repay for her kindness toward him, especially when her status goes up as she learns magic and becomes a royal healer, she still takes the time to help him get in a position enough to learn magic and take on a minor healer role alongside her.

Oooh, now this one is interesting as well and filled with possibilities!😁😁😁

Even then, I'd imagine a young Shang Tsung would've been wary if there was a catch to young Y/N's kindness. However, he doesn't say anything and just accepts her assistance and her offer of a place to sleep. Shang Tsung found you a bit odd as you wouldn't speak much, and when you did, you were rather prickly and shrewish. Which only bewildered him more since they seemed to contradict your kind actions. When he first gave you a gift he "bought", that was the first time he saw you genuinely smile. At first, you looked stunned, like a scared goat, as if you didn't know how to process receiving a gift. You then hugged the shorter boy in your arms while thanking him, stunning Shang Tsung in return. After this, Shang Tsung would bring you gifts by the end of the day when he comes to rest in your basement. Always, you'd thank him and reward him with an embrace. Once, when he brought you something he made himself, you gave him a peck on the cheek. Shang Tsung silently vowed to himself that he would make you his, and always make you happy.

Consider that Shang Tsung can receive a minor healer role alongside Medusa!Reader thanks to his experience with occasionally helping Y/N when she was younger. Whether that's as an extra pair of hands to hold more herbs while restocking her father's supplies or helping her haul out a corpse from the Burn Pit during the dead of night to get to the root of what's causing the illness plaguing their canton. It didn't matter to him that sometimes he would have to hide under corpses with you. Especially when your work is recognized by the new Rulers of Outworld themselves, and you happily come sprinting up to him to tell him that you've been accepted into the Imperial Academy for Healers!

While it saddened him to learn he couldn't come study alongside you, he was happy for you nonetheless. Yet, you didn't forget your old childhood friend when you became a royal healer. After graduating with honors, you took it upon yourself to teach Shang Tsung what you learned. You figured, given he spent his time helping your father run your family's Apothecary, he already has a good start. Yet, you didn't know about his shady side hustle of selling fake cures and miracles.

#mortal kombat #shang tsung #mortal kombat 1 #oddball speaks #ask answered #anon ask

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auroraescritora · 6 months ago

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SITTER'S LOVE - Nico!Babysitter, Percy!Teacher-father - Chapter XX and Chapter XXI

Hi, we're back! I've had a bit of time and decided to move things along. I hope you like it.

Previous chapters: CHAPTER I / CHAPTER II / / CHAPTER III, CHAPTER IV e CHAPTER V / Chapter VI e Chapter VII / Chapter VIII e Chapter IX / Chapter X, Chapter XI, Chapter XII e Chapter XIII / Chapter XIV / Chapter XV / Chapter XVI e Chapter XVII / Chapter XVIII and Chapter XIX

Chapter XX

“I’m leaving,” Nico muttered weakly before leaving the house.

He took one last look at his father's figure sitting on the couch, ignoring him while reading the newspaper, and opened the door. Nico didn't even wait for a greeting in return, knowing he wouldn't get one. Not that he cared, he had come there to get some books and a change of clothes, and if that was the way Hades was going to continue to treat him... it was better that way, because things were only going to get worse. After that lunch with Percy, or rather, after he decided to ignoreWill's calls, the vow of silence had begun. However, it was only when the gifts, money and unwanted appearances started to appear that things became truly uncomfortable. That is, gifts from Percy andWill, both competing to see who was the best.

Yes, it seemed that was how things would be. If he didn’t stay too long inside that house, he wouldn’t have to see them and that way, everything would be fine. And if he didn’t stay at home, Maria wouldn’t have to take sides and Hazel wouldn’t have to fight with Hades, but… but it was all right. Jason and Thalia were helping him, the siblings had a spare room and they didn’t demand anything from Nico. Yes, it was the best thing to do, he kept telling himself; in the end, everything would be fine. The good news was that Nico had left plenty of clothes at their house and he wouldn’t have to go back for a few days.

"Nico!" Nico's soul nearly jumped out of his body at the shrill scream. Hazel came running down the stairs toward him, her face distressed and angry, determined as ever.

"Where have you been all week! We've been so worried.”

She was a true angel. Nico let Hazel's short arms wrap tightly around his waist and returned the gesture, barely realizing how much he missed her.

"I'm not welcome here." Nico confessed.

"That’s not true! Mom and Bianca miss you. EvenThanatos asked about you.”

"It's better this way." He said, "You don't have to fight over me.”

"No, I refuse. You're not leaving!”

"Honey, I have to work.”

Nico looked at her and smiled, even though he was crying a little. He missed Hazel so much that he almost gave in to the temptation to stay. He missed his mother too, and the nights watching movies with his brothers.”

"Why, right now? What changed that made you abandon me?" Hazel pouted cutely and tears fell from her golden eyes. The worst part was that she was right.

For the first time in his life, Nico had accepted someone's help and gone to the psychiatrist that Percy had recommended, as well as the psychologist, both community doctors. The truth is that the doctors he had seen before had not been a good experience, but Nico had talked a lot with them, learning that moving away from what was hurting him was essential, even if it was slow, and having a support network was even more important. He had also decided that he would no longer lie and that he would face his problems head on, and he would never, ever again be ashamed or feel guilty for thinking of himself first.

"I'm going to a psychiatrist. She prescribed me a weaker sedative and advised me to seek a healthier environment.”

“Oh,” she murmured. “I understand. I’m… I’m happy for you.” But now she was crying for real, silent tears streaming down her dark face. “You’ll come back to visit, won’t you?”

"I'm not leaving. I just need some distance. When you need me, just call me and I'll come running.”

"Do you promise?”

"I promise." Nico said to her and hugged her tightly.

"Can I go with you?”

"Where?”

"Work, of course." She said as if it were obvious.

And you know what? He shrugged, Percy probably wouldn't mind.

Nico took Hazel's hand and guided her to the bus stop.

***

Nico rang the bell and held Hazel's hand, counting the seconds. The door opened quickly and, as usual, it was Percy who came to greet him, always with a big smile and an affectionate hug.

Of course, it hadn't always been like this, the important thing was that in the last few days a simple "hello" had turned into something more, something that required physical contact and was as easy as breathing. He just wanted things to stop there. You know when you think it's going to rain a little and instead a flood destroys your house? That was exactly how Nico felt, all the presents, tight hugs and soft smiles weren't good for his heart. Or the money that had mysteriously appeared in his bank account, so many zeros that Nico didn't even know how to count them and that seemed to increase every day he looked at it.

"You know you don't have to rin-- Hazel! What are you doing here?" Percy said, opening the door completely and allowing them access to the entrance chamber. Percy crossed his arms and made a face, but Nico knew it was a joke, because soon after Percy bent down and hugged Hazel, ruffling her hair.

"She came with me today, I hope that's okay.”

"Yeah, no problem." Percy said and turned to him.

Holding his shoulders, Percy looked him straight in the eyes and then moved them from his feet to his head, and only then hugged him tightly, tighter and longer than would be appropriate.

"You look much better. The kids will love to see you." Percy said in the middle of the hug, his voice whispered against his earlobe.

Nico could only nod, the words he was about to say disappearing without being pronounced, like, why he found so much money in his account when he went to get money to buy a book and why so many gifts. He just wanted to understand what was going on between them. Or what could still happen. What really made him understand how screwed he was was finding himself surrounded by Percy's arms, realizing how much he had missed him this past week, the week he had asked for time off. It was the only way to get his life together and try to build something to motivate him to continue.

One of Percy's hands held him by the back of the neck and the other came to rest on the small of his back, making him feel welcome and safe. When Percy finally let go, Hazel and Percy had identical smiles on their faces, which made him deeply uncomfortable, as if they knew something Nico didn't.

"Come on, the kids are already at the table." Percy told him.

Percy touched his hand hesitantly, as if expecting to be rejected, but when Nico did nothing to stop him, Percy gently guided him as he stroked his fingers. However, Nico didn't have time to enjoy the feeling of Percy's touch on his skin, because there was the Jackson family; Alice sitting next to Logan,Annabeth at the farthest point from everyone while Percy sat in the center, with him and Hazel seating them next to him and across from the children. The funny thing was that instead of asking the cook or the housekeeper to get more dishes, Percy himself stood up.

"There's always room for one more in this house." Percy placed the cutlery, plates and glasses as the housekeeper had taught them and straightened his spine. Percy puffed out his chest and cocked his head in a comical gesture, looking really proud of his work.

"So, what brings your sister here?”

"I--” Of course Nico didn't get the chance to finish.

"I had to ambush Nico in the morning!" Hazel practically slammed her hands on the table, exactly like Hades would do, all irritated and offended.

“Oh, really?” Was all Percy said, his easy smile seeming to calm her.

"Nico… Nico hadn’t been home for over a week! I was so worried! No one knew where he had gone, not Mom, Hades, Bianca. Not even Lou and Cecil! It was like he had disappeared off the map!”

"Hmm, and how did that happen?”

But this time, Percy wasn’t asking Hazel that question. No, he was looking at Nico as he lifted the wine glass to his lips. One corner of his mouth lifted and he leaned back against the back of his chair, looking Nico over once more from head to toe.

"Could this have anything to do with some recent changes? I wonder what it could be…" Percy said again, in that mix of joking and mocking that only he could do.

“Okay,” Nico said, suppressing the urge to roll his eyes. “I went to the psychiatrist, okay? She referred me to a psychologist too.”

"I'm glad." Percy said then, contentedly. The smile that reached his eyes said much more. “Did you like it?”

“Like isn’t the word I’d use,” Nico found himself saying, feeling his face heat up, that urge to hide stronger than his sense of pride. “It’s helping. I guess I needed to hear certain things, from a neutral perspective, you know?”

“I know!” What surprised him wasn’t that someone agreed with him, but that it was Logan who had said it. Alice nodded, seeming to flinch when the attention turned to them. “Dad put us in therapy after you had your panic attack. It’s so cool! He listens to me and jokes with me, just like you do, Nico!”

He smiled at Logan and Alice, but for some reason he felt like crying. Nico didn't cry, of course, it would be too much drama for such an early morning, he just looked at Percy suspiciously.

Percy shrugged.

"My parents never worried about that kind of thing. I wanted to make sure that… everything was as it should be." Percy muttered, a strange, self-deprecating smile forming.

Nico was so proud! To show his approval, he held Percy's hand and smiled at him. Percy didn't know how much trouble he was saving himself with this. Percy only did this because the children must have been traumatized, but it showed that Percy cared about their well-being, not just their physical well-being, but their mental well-being as well. The problem was that Percy turned his hand against his and intertwined their fingers, making him feel that warm feeling in his heart, and maybe somewhere else too. When that happened, he tended to forget everything else.

It was at that moment that Nico heard a throat clearing.

Sofia pushed her chair back and stood up, knocking it over as she went. She crossed her arms and approached them, circling behind each one sitting at the table, as if she was about to attack.

"Who gave you permission to do this to my children? Is this how you raise them? And letting just anyone come into my house?”

If he didn't know whoAnnabeth was or what the purpose behind those words was, Nico would be offended. Hazel, who didn't know what was happening, didn't have the same reaction. She stood up and, just as aggressively asAnnabeth, lifted her chin, taking a step towards her.

Fortunately, Nico acted faster. He grabbed her arm and sent her a look, which was enough for Hazel to sit back down, not at all happy with the situation.

"Is this house still yours?" Surprised, Nico heard Logan say once more. "If you don’t live here, is it still yours?”

Percy frowned andAnnabeth paled. If Nico hadn't been paying so much attention he would have missed the momentAnnabeth gasped and took a step back in shock. Percy was too focused on Logan, Alice was looking down in sadness, and Hazel had looked away in a huff. He could only watch asAnnabeth took another step back and another, disappearing up the stairs without a word.

Maybe it wasn't a good idea to bring Hazel there.

Chapter XXI

Even though the morning was full of drama, the rest of the day passed peacefully; after Percy talked to Logan, Nico took the children to school with Hazel and then they returned, Nico showing his sister the house, quickly passing by Percy's room, a gigantic place with a double bed, a suite with a bathroom and, in the corner of the room, a spacious table with chairs, a printer and everything Percy could possibly need. They said "hi" to Percy and soon Nico pulled Hazel by the hand when she started to talk, Percy in the middle of documents spread out on the table, laughing at their attitude.

When they finally returned to the living room, Nico was able to sit down and pick up his books. But Hazel? She wasn't satisfied with that. No, she walked around the room, looked out the window that overlooked the garden and the pool, and went to the bookshelf that took up an entire wall and began to read the titles.

That was already getting on his nerves.

"Hazel, what are you doing? Looking for evidence for Hades?”

"What, no… but… is that all?”

She came towards him and sat on the sofa by his side, still curious.

"What were you thinking?”

"You and Percy seem so close…”

"Hazel!”

"I'm just saying. So, you just study? All afternoon?”

"Sometimes Percy comes over and we watch a movie. Or we get something to eat.”

"Really? Not even a little kiss? Maybe a--”

"You can stop right there. If you came here for that--”

"No! I missed you. You still haven't said where you're living.”

"And I won't. I don't want to take my problems elsewhere. They're already helping me, I can't get them into this mess.”

"Is this part of your therapy too?" She asked, pouting.

"Yes. I have to learn to say no, or the same thing will happen no matter where I go.”

"What? People coming to your new house?”

"No, people abusing me. Even if they don't know what they're doing.”

"Oh." Hazel murmured, looking at her hands. "Do I do that? I never--”

"It's not your fault. If I don't tell you how I feel, how can you know? The responsibility for building healthy relationships must come from both parties.”

"Does it start with “no”?”

"Start by defining what I am willing to accept and what I should never allow.”

"Oh." She said, but this time, Hazel understood. She smiled and hugged him tightly. "I hope I'm one of those healthy relationships.”

"Of course you are, I'll always want you in my life. The question is: do you want to study with me until it's time to pick up the kids or do you want me to take you home?”

"I think I've caused enough trouble. I'll go alone.”

"Are you sure? Do you have the money for the bus?”

"Yes, Hades always gives me money to spare. Don't worry.”

That was when Nico realized how differently they were treated. Hades had never given him a penny that wasn't strictly necessary, but for Hazel... only the best. He took Hazel to the door and waited for Ethan to pick her up, and only then did he let himself fall apart. He walked mechanically to his little corner in the living room and lay down in one of the long armchairs, only realizing that time had passed when someone gently touched him on the shoulder.

��I--”

He jumped and tried to sit up. However, it was Percy. The man always caught him in these situations. Percy just smiled at him and sat down next to him, Percy's hands going to his hair automatically, brushing and massaging, rocking him so gently that he calmed down after a few moments.

"You were so quiet, you didn't come to call me for lunch. Have you eaten yet?”

"No." Nico denied, relieved that he didn't have to explain.

He didn't understand where all this care was coming from or why Percy chose to treat him this way. It was clear that he wasn't the best person for Percy to invest so much time... and money in. In the last few weeks it had seemed like as soon as he breathed, Percy was offering him something or giving him "tips" that felt more like extra pay, even when he was off duty, the money showing up in his account randomly.

It’s just… that was why he was working, wasn’t it? Except it wasn’t work at all, taking care of the kids or occasionally making food when the cook was gone. Really, Percy had done so much for him, more than he could ever do for Percy; he just wished Percy wouldn’t make him feel so guilty.

Ah! Who was he kidding? Percy was all he needed. Someone who would support him, care for him, and understand him, someone Nico could trust, just like Percy had already proven. So why did all of this feel so wrong? So bad? Like he was taking advantage of the man and manipulating him, just like those girls his father criticized so much.

"Nico?" Percy called his name, and that voice that was usually soft and husky, sounded authoritative, like Nico hadn't heard in a long time.

He immediately paid attention and looked at Percy's face, who was staring at him seriously, with his jaw clenched, offering him his hand. He didn't hesitate and took it, Percy's firm grip making him feel safe and a little better.

"I'm not going to make you talk about what happened. You know you can talk to me about anything, right? It doesn't matter what it is.”

“I…”

"Am I being too intrusive? If it's about something that happened in this house, I can--”

"No!" He jumped up, facing Percy. "Nothing happened. Nothing at all!”

"Hm. I'll pretend to believe you. But if something is bothering you, I'd rather hear it from you than from other people.”

"I promise… I promise you’ll be the first to know.”

Still a little sad, Nico sniffed and wiped the tears on the sleeve of his sweater. Percy didn't ask anything else, just took his hand again and guided him once more with his firm touch. He knew that if he wanted to talk, Percy would listen; and that was enough to make the sadness dissolve a little more, enough for Nico to know that if he had lost a father, he had gained so much more in return.

***

When Nico opened his eyes, the living room was already dark, only the television and the clock lit up the room. He rubbed his eyes and checked the time, half past eight, well after working hours. He got up and left the children sleeping, heading towards the kitchen, or that was the goal. Nico had to stop halfway when he came acrossAnnabeth, she was coming down the stairs, pulling a huge and heavy suitcase, and for a moment he felt bad for the children who were being abandoned once again, without so much as a goodbye or any words of comfort.

Fortunately, Nico soon snapped out of his trance and headed towardsAnnabeth, running over to where she was, helping her down the rest of the steps.

“Thank you,” was all she said, her attention completely on the still half-open suitcase, her gaze determined to fit everything into that compact space.

"Sofia-- ma'am... aren't you say goodbye to the children?”

"Say goodbye to them?"Annabeth finally looked at him and analyzed him from head to toe. "They don't need me. They don't even want me here. Why would I say goodbye?”

It was a good question. Still, it wasn't the right thing to do.

"The children miss you.”

“I know they do.” She finally closed her suitcase and turned to him, with the same self-deprecating smile Percy had used before. “They miss something that never existed.”

"That's not true. I bet they'd love to spend a holiday with you. If you'd talk to them... Percy would be open to it, I know he would.”

"So cute, yet so innocent." She finally smiled at Nico, a sincere smile that spread across her entire face. "You're a good boy. That's why I know you'll take good care of my husband and my children. You have a gift for it. They're so happy that I won't need to go back for a long time.”

"What?" Nico asked without understanding. “So, you…”

"It's the deal I made with Percy, I have to come back a few times a year. That's it.”

"Aren't you afraid?”

"What could I be afraid of?" She looked down at him, mocking Nico. When Percy did that, it gave him a feeling of affection, but whenAnnabeth did it, he could only feel mockery and sadness.

"For them to grow up and reject you for the rest of their lives?”

Sofia pulled on the handle of her suitcase and hesitated for a moment, then looked back at him with those piercing gray eyes.

"I meant it about the kids missing you. They were so happy when they heard you were coming… all they need is a little attention. They just need to know that their mother cares.”

"Hm." Was all she said before tossing her golden hair back and opening the door, walking out.

You know what was funny?Annabeth had spent the past two weeks watching him like a hawk, trying to find any flaws or mistakes he might make, but all she had revealed was how she and Percy could never be more than two strangers, or how the children worshipped her, like a god they could never reach. But now, listening to the sound of the car driving away, all Nico felt was sadness. These were two more children who would grow up feeling rejected and incomplete.

See you next week!

#pernico #percy jackson #percico #nico di angelo #my writing #percy/nico #sitter's love

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reetu24 · 1 year ago

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Professional Wedding Photography

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#https://weddingtwinkles.in/#professional wedding photography

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wily-one24 · 2 years ago

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The answering of the ask made me curious - how does picking the playlist go?

Do the songs just come to you? Or do you go through a bunch of songs and pick them out?

Does the playlist come first or as you're writing?

Oooh.

It's strange, I've never really made a playlist for my fics before. I have named MANY of then after fic titles, but never actually given them a playlist until this year, so... this is a new and interesting facet.

I usually will have written a good portion of the fic first. So I have an idea of the themes and plot lines and the overall mood of the piece. I mean, obviously, 'Wicked Game' was there from the start, it's the name of hte fic. But one song does not a playlist make.

It's a mix of ways. By the time I feel like making a playlist, one or more songs will have made it to my brain saying "hey, this belongs with this fic, listen... liiiiiiissstttteeeeennnnnnn" and so then I will think through the songs I know off the top of my head, go through songs in my other playlists, artists I know.

I keep my playlists with songs I know and artists I know, I don't just put in random songs (unless they're really good and fit perfectly).

By this time, the drive and effort is there and I will throw a bunch of songs into it and then listen and rearrange and whittle down until it becomes a cohesive (to me) whole.

I did at one point have an E/O playlist, that I have since deleted, but it had some songs that have transferred

Wicked Game, specifally, to me is a bit of a hit and miss. I'm not as confident with this one as I am with D5, but I adore it nonetheless. I culled several songs. But it generally goes through "This things is bright and new and dangers, but danger can be good"/ "What we have is hard to understand, but it means something to me"/ "I love you so much I might be taking things waaaay too far"/ "I am losing myself in this"/ "I am really vulnerable right now, please don't hurt me"/ "Wait... where the fuck did you go? How could you do that?"/ "It's hard living without you"/ "You know what? I've actually grown as a person and it took losing you to find out who I really am".

Deep Deep Down, to me, is the ultimate playlist. All the songs fit. It works. They just... speak. I wasn't sure at first that I would get enough songs to even make a playlist, because it IS a dark fic and has a lot of dark themes. (However, apparently, there is an abundance of "men are fucked up and women are damaged beyond repair because of it" songs... which... esh).

The Lewis songs fit. Red Right Hand, Vow, Closer, Pretty When You Cry, and Breaking the Girl... RRH is a warning song, the others are "I am fucked up and I am going to make you pay because of it", which.. yeah, it's easy to be "Closer, HA HA, explicit! I wanna fuck you like an animal", but it's there because the entire song is "I have no soul, I have looked inside myself and I make no sense, I'm barely human, I want to examine you inside and out and rip you apart and study you and maybe, if I can find meaning inside you... maybe THEN I will learn how I work" and if that's not Lewis here, Idk what is.

Then there is a set of trauma songs as it happens. Tell On You. As Heaven Is Wide. Island. Tell On You was definitely there from the first. The original title of that song (and I have the original CD with it's booklet to prove it before Bif Naked shortened it, was "Tell On You (Letter To My Rapist)" and it is such a gut wrenchingly brutal look of the whole experience. Island is haunting. "I don't want to die here" becomes "I need an island to bury all my feelings, to bury you, because I just can't live like this anymore" and if THAT doesn't personify how Olivia was towards the end... seriously.

Then we move onto healing and accepting help. I'm Alive. Silence Is Golden. Set Me On Fire. State Of Mind. Flashlight. Like, I'm Alive is... "you nearly broke me, but I'm alive, I survived you". Silence Is Golden is... seriously... so perfect for this fic. Not only does it encapsulate the anger of trauma, but... vocalises how the loss of voice is a coping mechanism... "Silence is golden, I have been broken" being almost screamed out repeatedly towards the end is fucking haunting. Set Me On Fire... is... not only very singable, but just "I am struggling right now and I don't know how to fix it... but I know you can help me.".

There is an Elliot POV , which is "Heart and Shoulders" which is all about how hard it is to witness someone in pain and not be able to do anything. And it is hard. So... all he can offer is his heart and his shoulders.

We finish off with "Bones" and "Long Way Back" which are the "yeah, shit man, that was really fucking hard, but i have come out the end of it. My bones have been broken and I know what going through hell is like, but we here now, let's be grateful for it"... and "It's going to be a long way back to something regarding healthy and sometimes it's really hard and I want to give up, but also sometimes you just have to put on your gloves and FIGHT through it. I'm going to take that long way back."

Which, if you're paying attention to the playlist, should give you some hope for the end of the fic.

@dahllaz

#dahllaz #look ma i got an ask #fic playlists

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deleteddewewted · 4 years ago

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Hey comadre! I saw you asked for a fluff request, and I came to deliver 💜 I think you might be intrigued by the idea!

Shinsou who has been bullied his whole life, with the bullying growing harsher his middle school years. When he begins his high school life in UA, he remains distant, not allowing himself for others to get close to him, and for them to hurt him, because he has developed that trauma. He then successfully transfers over to the Hero Course, and his seat partner is the chubby/curvy girl of the class. She is friendly and welcoming towards him, but he remains to give her the cold shoulder, although he saw her intentions genuine, but he still keeps his guard up. She then goes and sits with him during lunch, her explaining that she understands why he gives off the cold shoulder to his peers. She explains she has underwent being bullied herself, by her weight and such. She tells him that as time passed, she learned to love and accept herself for who she is, and offers to help Shinsou in a similar manner. To help him learn to trust people and she asks if he puked accept her as a friend. He accepts and their friendship grows, with him starting to develop feelings for her, and wants to spend more time with the person who saved him from his own troubles 💗

My heart and soul needed this, thank you comadre!💜

(I may or may not have used some of my personal experience being body shamed in here so....yeah, thats your heads up.)

Misery and Company

Emo/Himbo Shinsou x F! Reader (Reverse Comfort)

TW: Mentions of bullying, Mentions of Body Shaming, Leading on

He remembered the constant laughter that was present in his life. Everyone would assumed it was a great childhood but to him, to someone like him, it was never the paradise that it was thought to be. The laughter was at him not with him. Kids pointed their fingers towards him and blamed him for all of the problems that would happen throughout the school day.

“I didn’t do it!” As a child, he didn’t know any better. He assumed that he could scream and yell like every other kid and be listened to. He found out quickly that he didn’t get that right. The teacher quickly told him off and called his parents. They came to pick him up from school and started to ask all kinds of questions. Did your quirk go off? Why did you do it? Is it that hard to listen? He didn’t bother to try to make connections after that. Friends were a waste of time. A liability. An opportunity to suffer unnecessarily.

When Shinsou reached middle school he suffered from the increase of villain comments. His quirk became the center of attention, it didn’t matter if he had good grades or was nice to people. His quirk was the focus, always was.

“You can get away with everything you want!” He’s heard that one about a million times already. It always managed to irritate him how much people cared about what he did with it. He hated the eyes. The voices. It only made his internal monologue become aggressive with himself. The constant reminder that he was less than the others for being born with a quirk that used people. It made him want to scream his head off.

“Yeah, I’m aware. Um, can we stop talking about it now?” He wasn’t a pushover but he knew that he could just say what he wanted. He purposefully asked a question to get the other student to stop talking without using his quirk. The last tithing he wanted was for someone to accuse him of using his quirk on them.

That night, Shinsou worked on his homework at his desk. His parents were away on a work trip so he had the entire house to himself. He looked at the time and groaned when he realized it was already one in the morning. He walked into his bathrooms and looked for his toothbrush. When he looked up at the mirror, ready to brush his teeth, he couldn’t help and stare at himself. His eyes held bags under them, dark and heavy as if he hadn’t slept in days. The faint smudging of the eyeliner he put on only making his eyes look even worse. He was tired and alone. His parents weren’t there to comfort him and with his quirk making it difficult to connect with others, he had no one to speak with other than himself. He dropped his hand down and just stared at his reflection. The image became hazy as he continued to stare back at it.

His face felt warm. He couldn’t stop the river that flowed down his face. He didn’t ask for his quirk, he also didn’t ask to be born. Shinsou couldn’t stop the rattling within his chest nor the stuttered gasps as he tried to breathe. He looked up at his reflection again, this time noticing the red and swollen eyes that belong to him. That night, Shinsou laid down to sleep on top of the covers and stared blindly at the uncovered window. He vowed to never become attached again. Not to classmates, not to family, and definitely not any possible friends.

Going to UA was a dream come true for him, the ability to be closer to your heroic dreams was closer than ever, but not for him. Shinsou had to watch as the heor course students acted like entitled brats, everyone in the school bowing to them like they were some great thing. He hated watching them boast, hated everything about them, to be honest. He wanted nothing to do with them, so why did they want something to do with him?

“Uh, sorry but I was wondering if you’d like to sign this petition?” Shinsou looked up from the book he was reading and stared straight towards the holder of the voice. It was a short chubby girl with a clipboard in her hands. She looked at him expectantly, waiting for his answer to her question.

“No thanks.”

“It’s for a local shelter, it’ll help abused and abandoned pets find a good home-” Shinsou wanted to be left alone. He sighed out loud and closed his book while rubbing his eyes, the eyeliner smudging.

“I said no. Now leave me alone.” Shinsou watched as the girl flinched at his annoyed voice.

“S-sorry, I’ll just leave you alone.” She quickly walked away from him, nearly entering a jog as she left him behind. Shinsou couldn’t help but become disappointed with himself. The girl was being nice to him and he snapped at her. She wasn’t even benign annoying, he just felt tired. He could hear how some people around him mumbled about the exchange he packed his things up and left towards his class.

He did see the girl again from time to time. He found out she was in the hero course and that she was in the A class as well. He would spot her on occasion but he did interact with her during his hero course admissions test. She wore her hero costume with pride and honestly, he had to look away for a moment, she looked like power itself. He couldn’t help feel intimidated in her presence. She didn’t come up to him yet so he had to come up to her. He intended on apologizing for his behavior a few months back, he didn’t mean to snap at her and he never found the opportunity to do so.

You watched as the indigo-haired boy awkwardly made his way towards your group. He wouldn’t meet anyone’s eyes but instead focused on the floor below him.

“Hi, I’m Shinsou Hitoshi.” He extended his hand out to you but you just stared at him like he grew a second head. He felt awkward again, he was expecting you to at least call him a dick but the silence made his stomach become tight.

“Nice to meet you Shinsou, I’m L/n Y/n.” You felt bad for being quiet for too long, you couldn’t help it. He was really pretty to look at especially since he wore eyeliner that sharpened the appearance of his eyes.

“Oh, uh yeah. I um, wanted to apologize for my attitude a while back. It was rude of me and uhh, I know that saying I was in a mood isn’t a good excuse but-”

“It’s fine, I get it. I can be annoying so it’s ok.” You gave him a bright smile and a clap on the back of his shoulder.

He tensed when he felt the heat of your hand on him, he couldn’t help but lean slightly into it. His ears reddened and not wanting to embarrass himself more than he did already, he quickly pulled his mask up to cover his ears and face.

“No- yeah- I mean no, you- you weren’t annoying, I was just in a mood and it accidentally let it out on you. Sorry about that.” He rubbed the back of his neck and looked at you briefly. You just smiled at him again and got closer to his person.

“Hey, do you mind if i-” You grabbed the bottom part of his mask and pulled it down slightly, your face closer than ever before to his own. He stopped breathing as you got closer, he couldn’t help but feel self-conscious about his breath. He smelled like coffee and for some reason, it made him feel embarrassed if you were to found out about his dependency of it.

You reached out with your pinky and brushed some of the black flakes of his eyeliner away from his upper cheek. You blended the smudged eyeliner on the bottom of his eye out and pulled his mask up again to cover his face.

“There! Just wanted to clean up your makeup. It’s really well done, by the way, wish I could do my own eyeliner as clean as your own. Do you wear eyeshadow on the bottom lid or is it just eyeliner with you?” You weren’t mocking him for his dressing and styling choices, many of his old classmates did.

He told you about what products he uses and yes, he did use eyeshadow for his bottom lid. You just smiled at him and occasionally added what you used. He enjoyed talking to you, you were nice to him and allowed him to speak his mind. He couldn’t help but want to know more about you. Unfortunately, your conversation had to come to an end since his group was the first one up, but you both agreed to talk after all matches were over.

His second year at UA was better but he still felt awkward around everyone. Everyone, discluding Bakugou, was nice to him. You especially made it your duty to be around him all the time. He enjoyed your company but he found himself still pushing away from him at times. The constant lingering feeling of possible betrayal being prominent in all of your interactions. It didn’t matter how many times you helped him do his makeup or how many times he did your own, didn’t matter if he showed you his favorite video games to play, nor if he introduced you to his parents and had you in his room playing those same games with him for hours. He was still nervous, paranoid that you’ll stab him in the back. Scared that you’ll turn around and show your true colors. That you’ll take everything you know about him and tell everyone so you could all mock him again.

Shinsou, due to his fears, started to pull away from you. No more hanging out with him, no more doing each other’s makeup, no more eating lunch together. Shinsou ignored you every time you tried to speak with him, always turning himself away from you or being rude in some manner. It did discourage you at times, made you feel like you were back in middle school with the cute guys in your grade only speaking with you to make fun of your interests afterward. You thought that maybe he was going to be different but you guessed not. You kept away from him as you processed the situation but that also gave you the chance to watch him. You noticed that instead of sitting with your guy’s other classmates he would op to sit on his own within the cafeteria at a faraway table or somewhere else. You noticed that he not only avoided you but the rest of your classmates. He was back to how he was in his first year.

You couldn’t keep watching him be alone again, you didn’t want to leave him alone. You made up your mind and made your way towards Shinsou. He was sitting outside of the cafeteria eating his lunch while reading a book that was placed on his lap. He looked tense as he continued to read and nervous at any sound that made itself known. You felt bad for him, from what he told you about his own school experience, more of the lack of, you assumed that he was bullied for his quirk. He never used it on you and he never spoke much about it. He never gave you any details and never told you how his quirk activities, he just avoided the conversation entirely but he was always excited to listen to your own though.

“Shinsou.” You watched as the male jumped in his spot on the floor and direct himself towards you.

“Shinsou, can we talk for a bit?” He averted his eyes and began to pick his things from the floor, shaking his head as he did.

“N-no, sorry. I have to go-” You got in his way and crouched down to meet him at eye level.

“I know you have nowhere to be at. Please, talk to me for a bit.” You placed your hand on his own and stared at him. Shinsou didn’t want to meet your eyes. He didn’t want to see the disgust in them or the hatred you felt for him.

What he didn’t expect was for you to place your hand on his cheek and gently guide his gaze to your own. His eyes were wide and watery, he didn’t understand why you were being so gentle, so kind with him. Didn’t you want to be angry with him? Your own eyes were soft, a small smile present on your face.

“Shinsou, what’s wrong?” Your voice was gentle and your touch never leaving him. He took in a breath and spilled everything and all of his troubles to you. Once he finished, he was welcomed by a hug.

You pulled him into your own body and shared your warmth with him. You gently brushed his wild hair as you allowed him to cry to his heart’s content. He needed someone to listen to him, someone who would just let him talk. You were that person for him. Once he felt better, he pulled away from your person and rubbed his eyes. His eyeliner was running and smudging severely on his face. He pouted slightly at his destroyed makeup but then looked at your uniform. You had black smears all over your jacket and shirt.

“I-i’m sorry L/n. I didn’t mean to ruin your uniform.” You just chuckled and shook your head at him.

“It’s fine Shinsou, you needed to let it all out.” He began to take deeper breaths and eventually sat next to you. His head gently laying on top of your own.

“It… it was frustrating you know? I thought that I was the problem and I still feel like I am at times.”

“I get what you mean, I also had to deal with bullies.” Shinsou lifted his head and looked at you confused. You had to deal with bullies? Why? You were nice to everyone, why would anyone want to hurt you?

“I think it’s obvious as to why Shinsou.” Shit, did he say that out loud?

“Yes, you did.” You gave him another smile and took his hand. You compared him to your own. Your hand was smaller than his own but it was rounder, chubbier, just like the rest of you. You found it adorable how different the both of you were.

“I’m overweight, man. People tend to hold a preconceived idea of what overweight people are like.” Shinsou still couldn’t understand.

“So? Why would anyone bully you for something you don’t have all that much control over?”

“Because they’re mean. It’s a power trip for them.” You began to play with his fingers, taking note of the muscles that you weren’t aware existed within them.

“I used to have a crush on this guy and for the longest time, my classmates made fun of me because of it. They always said that I was too fat for him or that id hurt him if I leaned onto him. Typical mean comments about my appearance and how I was unloved.” Shinsou began to frown and got closer to you. His body heat becoming a welcoming presence to you as you recounted your own struggles.

“Then one day he asked me to hang out with him. We ate lunch together and we spent time together. I thought he was interested in me just like I was interested in him. He once got close to my face and made it look like he was about to kiss me before reaching for something behind me. We laughed it off as an accident but I noticed the small blush on his face. I was excited.” You pressed on each of his fingernails and wiggled his fingers in between your pointer and thumb.

“I thought that this was it, he liked me back. Our school dance came and everyone was asking out their dates for it. I thought he was going to ask me to go with him but that didn’t happen. He pulled me towards him in the middle of class with everyone watching us, a lot of the other girls were jealous of me because of it.” You noticed the chipped nails polished on his nails and began to scratch it off.

“He cupped my face and pulled me closer to him. We were going to kiss.” You stopped playing with Shinsous hand. Your hand falling onto the ground limply.

“He gripped my face and pushed me away saying “Did you really think id like you? You’re such a joke L/n.” ” You pulled away from Shinsou, your hand rested on your lap instead of anywhere near his.

“I felt so alone, so gross, so….fat. It hurt but it was made worse because it was in front of everyone. Everyone saw how he treated me and made fun of me. No one did anything, not even as I ran away crying. Instead, I got comments about my weight. I got called some really mean names that day and the following. I didn’t go to my school’s dance, I didn’t want to be made fun of again.” You didn’t hear a thing from Shinsou. He just sat there looking at you like you were crazy.

“Their assholes.”

“I know.” You looked at him and smiled. He came closer to you, grabbing your hand from your lap and interlacing them in one another.

“But I don’t feel like that anymore. I don’t care is a better way to phrase it. People can have their opinions, either nice or mean. I can’t dictate that.” Shinsou scooted closer to you as you continued talking.

“But I can dictate the way I think about myself and the people I want to be around me.” Shinsou couldn’t help himself anymore.

He leaned in towards you and placed his hand on your cheek. His lips gently pressing onto your own and unmoving. You felt your heart fluttered but it quickly turned to amusement. He just pressed his lips to yours and wasn’t moving, He wasn’t moving. He had his eyes closed and pressed into you, it was beginning to bruise your lips. You pulled back slightly and looked at his face. He had his lips still puckered and his eyes closed. You giggled and quickly kissed him again before he pulled away. You on the other hand did move and deepened the kiss.

Shinsous heart soured as you kissed him back, his lips no longer hurting but feeling gently caressed by your own. He couldn’t help the small gasps that escape him nor the way he pulled you closer to him. When the two of you parted, Shinsou looked at you with sleepy eyes. He wanted this and he wanted more.

“I like you L/n.”

“I like you too Shinsou.”

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karmacharmeleon18 · 4 years ago

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I just need to get this off my chest, so please ignore it if you don’t like criticism of Andrew. Lately I’ve seen several people react to an old comment Nora made about Andrew, a comment that makes perfect sense to me, but has enraged and keeps enraging most of the fandom:

Nora: “Andrew is a misogynist but Renee and Bee are helping him get over it.”

Me: *thinks about the fact that due to his past experiences, Andrew does not trust women and actively dislikes them on principle; he most likely thinks they’re selfish and mean spirited; he actively threatened and harmed Aaron’s ex girlfriends in high school and threatened Katelyn as well even though she’s never harmed Aaron that we and Andrew know of; he hated Tilda and killed her; he hates Neil’s mother and would have killed her if given the opportunity; even after years he still does not trust Abby and threatens her when she tries to come closer to him and Neil in the hotel scene, and I’m sure he wouldn’t have hesitated to hurt her; he almost kills Allison for slapping Aaron. Yet he does not show the same extremely aggressive and almost lethal behaviour towards men, not even when Matt punches Kevin or when Nicky oversteps boundaries with Neil. He does threaten them with knives, but I for one never got the feeling that something bad was really going to happen to any of the guys (while for a moment I seriously thought he was going to snap Allison’s neck); on the other hand he gets Matt off drugs, lets Kevin in into his family, protects Nicky and Aaron at the cost of his own health and life. He almost chokes Kevin because he kept the truth from him, not because Kevin is a guy and he got too close to his family. Renee is the exception because she is similar to Andrew and understands him; Bee is another exception because she was possibly the first adult to actually listen to him* Oh, yeah. That makes sense.

Fandom: omg how dare nora say something like that about my precious soft baby boy Andrew!!!

...

Listen, if a white person came up to me and said: “Because of my trauma I don’t trust black people, I really dislike them and actively try to harm or even kill any black person that comes near my family. But you and one other person are the exception!”... yyyeah I’d still consider them racist.

Now switch white guy with Andrew, black people with women and you and one other person with Renee and Bee.

So yeah, Nora’s comment makes total sense to me. I also tend to trust the author that created the character to know how said character truly is and what they feel and believe.

The same way I trust canon Aaron who makes homophobic comments any chance he gets, over fanon “omg homophobia? never! i’m on my way to the pride right now!” Aaron.

Let the Foxes be flawed. Let them learn to do better. Or not. Some of them will always be flawed assholes.

Ok, back to Andrew.

I’ve read most of the extra content so I know that during Andrew’s last year at Palmetto, he takes a new goalie, Robin, a girl, under his wing and into his family. When she doesn’t feel at ease with her roommates, Andrew lets her move in into his, Neil, Nicky and Aaron’s dorm room (Kevin having graduated with Matt the year before). He gives Robin his top bunk bed and shares a bed with Neil for the whole year. The locker room couch that was once occupied by Neil, Andrew and Kevin is now occupied by Neil, Andrew and Robin. Aaron introduces her to Katelyn and the two become close to best friends. Once he graduates, Andrew gives Robin his knives (Renee’s knives). Nicky gives her the key to the Columbia house, which becomes a sort of Fox House away from campus. Once Neil is left without the cousins – without Andrew – he and Robin become connected to the hip, and the bond will last for the rest of their lives. Neil turns Robin into a Class I athlete. The Foxes – not the upperclassmen’s Foxes under Dan’s guidance, with Matt’s good humour, Renee’s quiet dependability and Allison’s confidence – the cousin’s Foxes, with Nicky’s raucousness, Aaron’s aloofness that becomes almost friendliness thanks to Katelyn’s bond to Robin, Neil’s damn mouth that never shuts the hell up and causes only trouble and his obsession with Exy, and Andrew’s harshness, these Foxes save Robin’s life and give it new meaning. And it’s all thanks to Andrew.

(here’s the proof: https://korakos.tumblr.com/post/126963695002/i-definitely-recommend-just-skipping-this-post)

Andrew makes so much incredible progress. Don’t take it from him.

Andrew and Neil are full of flaws, they’re assholes, they’re harsh and rough, they’re not delicate or soft. For a long time, apart from holding hands, most of the touches they exchange are sexual in nature, because they don’t really know how to be gentle, but are learning. It takes them years, it takes them having their own apartment and the cats occupying the whole couch for Neil to sit in Andrew’s lap just to be close, with nothing sexual behind it. They don’t hug. They don’t say I love you. They don’t get married.

And most of the fandom can’t accept this. They can’t accept that someone can heal and get better and be content with their lives without getting married and declaring one’s love and having a bunch of children.

How many times have people complained that “Nora said Andrew never heals or gets better!” when it’s not true? But she said that Andrew and Neil don’t say I love you (because those words don’t really have a meaning for them, actions mean a lot more) and don’t get married (because they don’t need vows and a piece of paper, their promise to be together - that this is it for the both of them - is implicit, is silent, is made real every day that they wake up side by side), and that’s the same thing, right? She said that Andrew will learn to be content with his life, but that he’ll never be happy in the way most people understand happiness, which means that he must be miserable, right?

I swear, some of the stuff I read is so ableist. In so many fics Andrew and Neil’s canon personalities are completely erased, or their trauma eradicated, made into something more aesthetic and easy to deal with, or their behaviour towards one another and towards the Foxes completely changed into something that the writers deem normal, and digestible, and acceptable.

I often read fanfictions where I’m left thinking “Who are these people? They are not Neil and Andrew. Why write about them if you completely change everything that they are?”

Andrew and Neil are imperfect human beings and that’s ok.

I think we should accept characters for who they are instead of telling the author that she is wrong about them.

I don’t want you to think that this is a defense of Nora as a writer. Gods know I dislike the way she stereotypes Nicky, the ableism, the racism, the way she handles mental health, abuse and trauma (she herself admitted that she has a problem where she only sees characters as interesting if they suffer and are abused and traumatized). I will not be buying any more of her works unless someone I trust tells me that her writing has improved on these issues. But I will never say that she doesn’t know her characters just because I can't deal with my faves having flaws that aren't cool and aesthetic.

#andreil #andrew minyard #neil josten #aftg #nora sakavic #ableism

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conscious-love · 4 years ago

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Do you have advice for growing past and forgiving yourself for reactive abuse? I don't know how to feel about myself after everything that's happened. I know I'll never allow myself to get into a situation like that again, I know it's not a reflection of who I am as a person, but I also feel so ashamed and like I don't deserve any more chances and I'm a bad person forever now. It's my biggest regret and I am struggling to move forward

First of all, I’m incredibly proud of you for realizing the error of your ways. It’s often very difficult for people with a streak of abusive behaviour to realize they were wrong.

If you haven’t already, I suggest reading my response to this ask about self-forgiveness and guilt. I get into the utility of guilt and the point when guilt loses its utility.

I’m going to use the word “sins” several times, so just know that the word predates its use within religion. It’s a very useful word; “to sin” actually means “to miss the mark.”

Forgiving Yourself for Hurting People

Step 1: Reflect

Reflect on your life (mainly your childhood) to figure out why you became abusive. You called it “reactive abuse,” which makes me think that you’re quick to anger and have difficulty controlling yourself. Volatility like that often stems from childhood trauma or lack of healthy models — perhaps that’s somewhere to start. Btw, dialectical behaviour therapy (DBT) works wonders for people with difficulty regulating their emotions and controlling their reactions.

What exactly did you do? Maybe you can write out a list of all the ways you harmed others. How did your actions affect them? This isn’t a means to shame yourself. It’s a way to give yourself a much-needed, healthy dose of humility. When you look at that paper/screen, you’ll be staring your sins straight in the face. That’s a humbling experience, as it brings with it the type of emotions that pierce the depths of your conscience. Such emotions are deeply transformative.

Step 2: Learn your lesson

You’ve likely learned most or all of the lessons to be gained from this. Just in case, though, reflect on it again.

What did you learn about yourself, relationships, emotions, respect, morality, empathy, emotional intelligence, etc.?

Do you truly understand the harm you’ve caused others? Why would it have been better to not harm them?

What are the downsides to being a bully/abuser?

Step 3: Make amends

Making amends does not only mean apologizing.

You make amends with yourself by forgiving yourself (that means: accept, reflect, learn, make amends, vow to never repeat, move on).

You make amends with the world by promising to never repeat your transgressions.

If you want to apologize to the people you hurt, be cautious. Ask yourself, “will I cause this person too much distress by reaching out and apologizing?” If your apology would just hurt them and/or re-traumatize them, don’t do it. If you do, that’s being selfish, not altruistic. Your apology would be just another transgression.

Step 4: Don’t do it again

The biggest part of making amends is promising yourself to not repeat the transgression(s), and following through with that promise.

The goal is not: making up for the harm you caused by racking up good deeds as payments for your “guilt debt.” You don’t have guilt debt. When you learned and moved on, the slate was wiped clean. The goal, going forward, is to do no harm intentionally, and to be kind at every opportunity (within reason).

Self Image and Worthiness

When you’ve undergone the stages of reflection, learning your lessons, making amends, vowing to not repeat, and moving on — you’ve redeemed yourself. Again, your slate has been wiped clean. You’re back on par with all the other good-doers, and you deserve to lead a good and meaningful life, just as they do.

Harbouring guilt past its utility is not noble and will not make you a better person. In fact, it will probably make you a worse person. Don’t hold onto guilt after it’s served its purpose. You’re not a slave to that guilt anymore, it doesn’t belong to you — so find a new, better identity. This redeemed you is the new you, and it’s the real you, right now. Start living in the present and direct your aim toward the future — a good future that you ARE deserving of.

“Every saint has a past, and every sinner has a future.” - Oscar Wilde

Final note: the literature on trauma has shown that the harm we inflict on others is more traumatizing than the harm inflicted upon us. You would benefit greatly from talking to a therapist or going to a clinic for recovering abusers (yes, those exist). If those aren’t available to you, there are several books and countless articles online about the topic. I urge you to look into those.

Again, I’m really proud of you for having the courage to look at yourself, the mental fortitude to understand the error of your ways, and your decision to seek resources for recovery. Those are all strengths to be proud of, and they’re going to get you far in life.

I hope this helped!

~ Bella ✨

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dameronology · 5 years ago

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that’s all {din djarin x reader}

(i’m reposting this bc it wasn’t showing up in the tags and it was stressing me out)

summary: you’d saved din djarin from himself before. now, with the pain of losing his kid, you’re about to do it all over again. (kinda based on find me here by hayley williams)

warnings: this is...flangst. fluff and angst. swearing. mentions of depression but it’s also a bit ✨positive✨

this is just me trying to be the emotional janitor to...that. i’ve tried to keep it as gender neutral as possible but some of the conversation might imply an afab reader but hopefully it’s vague to be completely objective!!

- jazz

anyways i know i already said it but !! spoilers !! spoilers !! spoilers !!

p.s spot the titanic reference

Grogu was tiny but the whole he left in your lives was massive.

You always knew you were going to have to give him up - hell, that had been the job in the first place - but you hadn’t expected it to hurt so much. He wasn’t your kid but at the same he completely and entirely was. You’d never expected your first parenting experience to be with a tiny green Jedi but at the same time, you wouldn’t have had it any other way. The next few months were going to be hard; accepting that he wasn’t yours to keep and that he was in a better place was guaranteed to be a long process. It would be worth it in the end but the initial pain was bordering on unbearable.

Din was better at hiding it than you. Admittedly, he did have a thick beskar layer to shield his emotions and pain from the outside world but he couldn’t hide it from you; never from you. Even behind the metal, you could read him like a book. It was a product of spending every waking minute together (his overprotective doing, not yours) and in return, he had learnt every habit and every quirk of yours. He sometimes cursed your ability to read him, especially when it lead to you saying things like you did not just tilt your helmet at me like that, Din Djarin.

He’d been quieter in the days since Luke Skywalker had taken the kid - quieter than usual, at least. Din was already a pretty taciturn person; compared to how he was with other people, he practically spoke your ear off but since you’d landed back on Nevarro, he’d completely kept to himself. It was painful to watch, seeing him rise at the crack of dawn to take a bounty, only to return in the evening with a few more bruises than he’d had that morning. You wanted to say something to do something that would make him snap back to reality, but this was probably his grieving process and you had to respect that. Or, you had to at least try to.

That was, until, it felt like Din was killing both you and him; working himself to the point of exhaustion, barely sleeping and refusing to even acknowledge Greef or Cara. You could deal with him being angsty. You could deal with him grieving. You couldn’t, however, deal with him ignoring you. You had literally vowed to go through all your bad times together and Din Djarin was nothing if not a man of his word. He knew it. You knew it too - and you’d be damned if you’d let him forget it.

It was on a cold - at least by Nevarro standards - morning that you decided it was time to show him some tough love. The Mandalorian had decided to hole out on one of Karga’s old ships that morning, claiming that he wanted to fix it. You were no engineering genius, but given that the old jet’s wings had fallen off, you could see it was past the point of no return and that Din had just been looking for an excuse. He was good at that these days.

‘Din!’ You called. The bay doors were open, but the ship itself was dark and dusty. Tinkering, my ass. As expected, there was no reply. ‘Din! Don’t ignore me.’

Silence.

‘Please?’

You grumbled to yourself, walking further inside the dimly lit ship. Tiny specs of dust were floating in the streams of thin light, leading your path further and further towards the cockpit. Who ever it had belonged it, it pre-dated the Republic, let alone the Empire or new order. You tried to resist the urge to cough, instead choosing to focus on your mission: hunting down the Mandalorian. The tables really had turned, considering he was very rarely the prey.

‘I was talking to Karga.’ You continued - as far as you knew, you were talking to thin air, but you liked your chances. ‘He offered me a bounty puck for...Corellia, is it? For that big, bad guy we didn’t catch last year. You know the one that nearly killed me?’

There was a crash from the cockpit, and you grinned to yourself. It was a little unethical to scare the man out of hiding with your bullshit, but you were getting desperate.

‘I figured it would be good to get out a bit, try and distract myself, you know?’ You continued. ‘So I was gonna borrow a ship and head out there tomorrow-’

‘- like hell you’re doing that on your own.’

A six foot mountain of beskar suddenly stepped out from the darkness. Normally, that would have been enough to scare anyone, but not you. You’d married that six foot mountain of beskar. That probably gave you more guts than anyone in the damn galaxy -- until they found out he wasn’t actually that terrifying. Not many people would have taken the Mandalorian seriously if they knew he enjoyed having his hair played with.

You held your hands up in the air, stretching out your fingers to show that there was no puck in sight.

‘You lied.’ Din grunted.

‘And you were ignoring me.’ You shot back. ‘’S going on?’

‘I told you. I was working on the ship-’

‘- nope.’ You cut him off. ‘Try again.’

‘Karga asked me to fix it-’

‘- Still no!’ You snapped. ‘We gonna go three for three or are you gonna finally pull your head out your ass and stop lying to me, Din?’

There wasn’t a single person in the galaxy who dared speak back to the Mandalorian - except you. That was what had made him fall for you in the first place. It was like you couldn’t even see the beskar. You’d always seen him as Din, and never as the Mandalorian, or a warrior. You’d made it clear from the day you met that you wouldn’t take any bullshit from anyone, him included, and he’d always respected that.

‘You have been holing yourself away for weeks.’ You continued. ‘I know it’s hard but you have to accept it. Grogu wasn’t ours to keep - he never was.’

Din didn’t response, instead dropping his gaze down to the floor.’

‘Hey.’ You put a finger at the base of the helmet, tilting his head back up to look at you. ‘Look at me. Talk to me.’

‘I miss him.’ He stated; short and blunt. Fitting, really. ‘And it hurts.’

‘I get that.’ You gently placed your hands on either side of his helmet, fingers splaying out over the cold metal. ‘But it’s better to hurt together. Can I?’

Din nodded, signalling that it was okay for you to take it off. You gently tugged at the helmet, momentarily breaking away from him to place it beside you. It was a relief to see his face after so many weeks of having the beskar between you; the soft brown eyes and slightly crooked smile that met you on the other side felt like home. You could have stared at him forever if the galaxy wasn’t so fucking demanding of your presence.

You’d spent far too long on the other side of the beskar, waiting for him to let you in. And now that you’d got him, now that you’d promised yourselves to one another forever? You weren’t going to let it happen again.

You gently pushed back a few tufts of brown hair, offering him a sad smile. ‘You know we made the right decision, yeah?’

He nodded, leaning into your touch as your hands carded through his hair. ‘I know.’

‘So you gotta stop beating yourself up, baby.’ You stressed. ‘Stop shutting people out - stop shutting me out. I know we don’t have the kid anymore but we are still a family.’

‘I lost the ship. I lost the kid.’ Din quietly spoke. ‘I’m just worried that-’

‘- I’m not going anywhere.’ You shook your head, knowing what he was going to say before the words even left his mouth. ‘Even if you paid me. You are stuck with me, okay? Cursed with me till the day I keel over and die.’

Finally, Din smiled. He looked you dead in the eye and he smiled, eyes creasing at the side as he peered down at you, eventually tightening his arms around your waist. He held your head to his chest, ungloved hand gently clutching you as he rested his chin on your hair. The first time he’d clung onto you like this had been after a rough mission; neither of you had been sure if he was going to make it back and when he did, the first thing he did was pull you into his arms and you stayed there for what felt like hours. That was when Din realised for the first time that he loved you - and now, after weeks of isolating himself and shutting you out, this didn’t feel completely different from that. It was just that this time, it was less of a realisation of more of a reminder.

‘I didn’t expect it to be this bad.’ Din quietly admitted.

‘I know.’ You whispered back, voice slightly muffled by his chest. ‘But pain is only temporary. Dark times pass and we’ll learn to look back on this and enjoy the memories. They won’t always be tainted.’

He’d been in a dark place when he’d met you. It was like he’d been treading water, waiting for the riptides to take him, to stake their claim and remind him of his mortality, to remind him that not even the bravest people can forfeit their ability to hurt. He tried. Maker, he had tried. The icy and emotionless impression he gave to strangers wasn’t an accident. It was a survival mechanism; a defense mechanism. One that you’d chosen to ignore. You’d saved him in every way a person could be saved.

Just as the waves were pulling him under, you’d dragged him out; dragged him to the shore and reminded him that pain was merely part of being human. Most importantly, you’d called his attention to the fact that no matter how much beskar he wore or how impenetrable he acted, that he couldn’t avoid being one. He could run away from bounty hunters and Imperials and the thousands of enemies he’d made but the fact of mortality was always hot on his tail.

Now, you were pulling him up for air all over again.

Eventually, pain stopped being a reminder of his humanity and instead, it was replaced by his love for you. His ability to feel things for you. You’d saved him then and now, you were helping him come up for air all over again. Being human didn’t always mean to hurt - it could just as much mean to love.

‘I’ve got you, okay?’ You tightened your grip on him, eyes meeting his. ‘Whatever you need.’

‘You.’ Din replied. ‘I need you. That’s all.’

a/n: ok i realised i published an identical but slightly different imagine to this in october but...clearly i have a type and that type is imagines where the mandalorian confesses that you’re the only thing he needs because i eat that shit up. consume it whole. i am telling you. i have no regrets. my content might is predictable but HELL at least u can rely on something in these wild times❤️

#din djarin x reader #din djarin imagine #din djarin x you #mandalorian x you #mandalorian x reader #mandalorian imagine #mandalorian fan fiction #din djarin fan fiction #star wars x reader #star wars x you #star wars fluff #din djarin fluff #mandalorian fluff #mandalorian spoilers #mandalorian season 2 spoilers

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volterran-wine · 3 years ago

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I think I have multiple questions, but I am not sure that they are truly independent of one another in this context. Hopefully what I ask makes sense.

I like the Anatomy & Society Worldbuilding that you've got going and wanted to know specifically about how libido, sexuality, and monogamy work together with vampires.

This started with my wondering about how a vampire would receive a mate that was asexual (as you headcanoned Renata). I know from experience that drive and receptiveness to sex are different. I've also torn through your blog, and have gathered that the mate bond just indicates potential, and isn't something that HAS to be acted upon. So, if a vampire learned that their potential mate didn't have a sex drive or was even repulsed by the thought, would that present too much of a problem for them to proceed with courting? This is more of a "biological needs" question than a "are they accepting to different orientations" question.

Does a vampire's libido change after they are turned or do they keep the same drive they had during their human days? And is it something that can be ignored, the way they can pretty much exist in a vegetative state without moving (granted they still feed)?

I guess the idea of monogamy in a relationship also pops up because what if the mate without a libido expected that their mate with one didn't seek sex from another? Are all vampires as open as Aro & Sulpicia? If exclusivity was expected, how would the mate "in need" cope?

Do you see the minefield I'm coaxing you into with this series of thoughts and questions? I apologize. I merely view you as the resident Vampire Anthropologist at this time. And this has just been plaguing my mind.

(By the way, I love what you've done with the place! Your blog is like a well-curated museum. And you're so articulate in the way you respond.)

Well, dearest Anonymous... I'll have you know that from now on I will put Vampire Anthropologist on my CV/Resume. It will certainly raise a couple of eyebrows if I attempt to change jobs at some point. I love minefields, at this point I'm quite good at traversing them.

𝐕𝐚𝐦𝐩𝐢𝐫𝐞𝐬, 𝐋𝐢𝐛𝐢𝐝𝐨 & 𝐌𝐨𝐧𝐨𝐠𝐚𝐦𝐲

Renata and other Asexuals In the case of Renata, I imagine that her mate-pull would drive her towards people who would also be Asexual or at the very least respectful of her boundaries. After all the pull finds the people who are best suited for you. So in general I don't think Asexual vampires have an issue so to speak when it comes to their mates, the universe tends to sort itself out at least within my worldbuilding. Of course vampires can always ignore the pull, this can be for multiple different reasons of course. Personally I believe Renata has turned down various different people, none of them had an issue with her sexuality however or her biology for that matter.

Do vampiers need sex? No, I don't think every vampire is a hyper sexual being. For some they just go about their immortality not really thinking about any of that. Others care about carnal pleasure very much, they then seek out partners who enjoy it as much as them. I'm sure some people would bring in biology and how vampires cannot procreate with one another and point to vampires probably having a low sex drive. I however think that is ... incorrect because LGBTQIA+ people exist. So it comes down to the individual and quite possibly what they were like as a human. I do not think there is a common norm among vampires when it comes to this.

Monogamy & Vampires I think vampire relationships can vary just as much as human ones can. Personally I think that the vows a bonded pair makes are much deeper than a human marriage. This is another being you are tying yourself to forever. Those promises are about more than simple fidelity in my opinion. I think vampires lose a lot of their human sensibilities as they get older. As an example, I can perfectly see Sulpicia and Aro having an open marriage even before Carlisle showed up. Those two have seduced good looking people separately, and together for millennia.

Platonic Soulmates I do not think all mates are sexual/romantic in nature, some are simply tied to people who will greatly enrich their lives. This works out perfectly fine because you can in fact have more than one mate. As an example; Aro is both mates with Sulpicia and Carlisle in my worldbuilding. So say Renata finds her mate and they have a platonic relationship, there wouldn't necessarily be an issue if the other party wanted to find a romantic/sexual type of mate-bond.

I firmly believe that Felix and Demetri are platonic soulmates.

(Oh dear, my blog is a well curated museum? My heart is soaring.)

#Volturi Questionnaire #Vampire Anatomy #Vampire Society #Volturi Valentines 2022

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starshipsofstarlord · 4 years ago

Text

Okay rockstars, settle down

rockstar!bucky barnes x assistant!reader x rockstar!loki laufeyson / masterlist

summary; having previously worked for loki, it causes a heat to burn within bucky’s already accumulated hate towards the musician / warnings; threesome, smut, mxf and mxm sex, mentions of sex with other characters, oral sex (male and female receiving), creampie, unprotected sex, double penetration, degradation, swearing, orgasm denial, cum eating

“Can’t believe you worked for that wanker.” Snarked Bucky as an image of the well known, musically spread, and acoustically acclaimed, Loki Laufeyson was shown on the screen of the dressing room television, as the other artist stretched his clothing bare arms across the back of the couch. “Come here sweet cheeks.”

At his command, you dismissed the paper work for a moment, trailing over and straddling the inked hunk’s chain belted lap, digging your manicured set of nails into his shoulders, as you seated yourself over his crotch. “I’m happy I work for you now Buck, you treat me so good.”

Punctuating your words, you pressed your teeth into your bottom lip, giving it the appearance of being more plump, as you batted your dark eyelashes up at your employer. “I do, don’t I?” He rhetorically asked, skimming his fingers across the length of your arms, before moving them to sloppily cup your jaw, ensuring that you would not look away from his wild and dilated pupils. “Tell me what I do better than the lead singer of the god of mischief.”

At his words, a small yet peaceful contortion of uncomfortableness split a skin grafted line through the centre of your forehead, stating that you had no wish to do so. And thus, as punishment for your self aversive silence, Barnes braced his knuckles into your skin, causing you to keen out, and tap his shoulders in verification for surrender.

In turn, you lowered your hands, dragging the tips of your nails, absentmindedly running them down the expanse of his waxed chest, conveniently passing the silver hoops that were attached to his nipples on the trail to a less dominant ground. “I prefer the way that your songs have a heavier bass and-“

“Uh uh uh, not the music. Think of something that has you, let’s say, screaming, but definitely not in a crowd. Though, we may have to try that one sometime; show the world how hungry you are to assist me.”

“You, James Bucky Barnes,” he loosened his grip to your relief, which lead to you hugging in spite, “are the best fuck I have ever endured. Loki has nothing on you, he deems himself a god of the arts, but he doesn’t see how you paint me so perfectly with your cum, nor how you bend my body to your whim, as though I am a tool in the midst of your creations, useful, but disposable.”

“I like the sound of that doll. Disposable, now that really does you make you sound like my personal cum dump.”

“That’s was certainly interesting to listen to...”that voice had your body jolting in shock, and it appeared that Bucky too was surprised by the presence, though, he steadied his well versed hands on your hips, claiming you to the intimate spot.

“What the fuck are you doing in my dressing room you greasy haired weasel?” Bucky sneered, his nose turning up at the sight alone of his competition in the lyrical world. Loki, he had graced you with his presence, and you had to look away; he admittedly looked good.

His shirt was open chested, leaving you with the memorable impression of all the times that you had left crescent marks upon that particular surface, a few times you had even drawn blood, but that had only fuelled his mission to fuck you into a propeller of urgency.

“Our new album Laufey has just been released, I can confirm my dear, you shoulda stayed around and knelt in our success. The records are certainly going to have more sales than what was it called again? Ah yes, the red star. I could tell it was about this one, so much passion, a sultry tune, that did little to justify what it means to be with her.”

Loki’s hands waved around as he spoke, and you could only picture the past whence he penetrated your with those long and talented fingers of his. He had drawn orgasm after orgasm out of you, resulting you to be nothing more than a withering mess, as he digressed the option to simply stop. There was nothing simple about him, nor the time that he demanded that he shared you with his brother.

That thought alone had you mindlessly grinding upon Bucky’s covered cock, plucking at your lip with the keys of your teeth, though Bucky’s voice brought you back to reality, causing you to pause your movements embarrassingly, venting a clear out of your head to process the situation that was before you. The two were bickering like two teenage girls, and it was quite exhausting to listen to.

“Answer the question trickster, else I’ll have you fed to the infamous black panther, and let’s just say that he is the best bodyguard I have ever hired. So, are you going to speak, or will I have you dragged out of here like a damned serpent with a noose around its neck?” Bucky threatened, gritting his teeth together, his nose straining in frustration, drawing more attention to the small stud on the right side of his nose.

“Looks like she needs me Barnes, perhaps your reputation does not proceed you. But to answer in full, my band have made quite the rise, and I thought it would be... fitting to pay you a visit. Though I had no idea that this wonderful woman would be here, pining on your lap like some feline in heat. I see she’s fucking you now, after all my suspicions are never wrong. Or we’ll, Heimdall’s train of thought always ends up at the right station.”

“Can the pair of you stop, for one goddamn minute!” Your hands obscured a path into your hair, as you glared back and forth between the pair of rival rockstars. “I am here, dammit! Stop talking about me as though I am not here, a part of me wishes that I wasn’t so I didn’t have to listen to your bitching.”

Without any thought, you clambered from your perch on Bucky’s lap, walking towards the raven haired gentleman, pointing your finger in his face as you accused him. “You’ve got your point across, but I’ll tell you something. If you don’t leave, Heimdall will see me putting my foot up your ass.”

“Does she speak to you like this Barnes? I thought she had loosened up in more ways than one when I allowed Thor to stretch her cunt, but it appears that that mouth of hers has gotten a little out of hand also. You should do something about that, or else you’ll lose her to someone else like a did. Who knows, could be Romanoff, heard she has a thing for brats.”

Natasha Romanoff, a diverse woman in her ways and songs. She was the queen of the rock culture, tormenting her workers with her verbal abuse and it would undoubtedly be no different for her assistant. If you were to be under her employment, it was certain that you would not get out alive, nor work for another talented person for the rest of your life. To cross her, was a vow to sign your own death certificate, it was plain stupidity, yet people still hustled with her and her limits, resulting in their chances of ever getting hired for any job, vastly slim to none.

At the lack of defence that Bucky provided you, you felt small, your shoulders slacked as you were tortured with Loki’s cold and silky gaze, more so when the man stood up, pressing his bare chest against your back. You could feel the rings that hung off the buds that adorned his chest coil and dig into your back, shrouding your demeanour substantially.

A part of you wanted nothing more than for Bucky to abuse Loki’s face with his fist, specifically the right, since it was the bearer to a chunky silver ring. It’d leave quite the print, however, the unexpected unravelled as his enquiring tone was aimed not at you, but Loki instead.

“You let your brother fuck her, hmm. Maybe she should learn her manners by being shared, that way her retrospective spattering of bullshit may be contained, to a limit of course.” It was unbelievably, you could not believe that Bucky was conferring with the enemy! And not only that, they were talking about experiences of having you literally become speechless from their unprofessional administrations upon your body. “I’d get T’Challa in here, but I know she’s already fucked him. Can’t quite fire him for it though, because who could ever say no to those pretty eyes, and that mouth, god, it is definitely one of her most persuasive attributes.”

“Bu-“ you didn’t even get to finish imploring his name off your lips, about to defend yourself and your previous actions, though, you were interrupted, starved from the opportunity of coming up with an explanation.

“No.” Loki told you, the roles now reversed as he was the one with his index finger aimed at you. He tapped your nose with it, as he began to pace in the room, his wild locks remaining in their place as he spun, before facing Bucky, a sly tranquility of a truce veining out from the pools of his evergreen orbs. “You don’t speak a word to me y/n, not whilst I’m having a conversation with James here.”

James. It was too far a polite way for him to address your boss. They were all hot and ready to tear out each other’s throats a moment ago, and now here they were, having a silent conversation without your inclusion. It had you reeling your mind as to why, until Bucky gathered your hair in his hand to the side, sliding you y/h/c locks over your shoulder, and finally deemed it acceptable for you to hear his voice.

Though, he still was not directing his tensive words in your direction. “Since you had dealt with this subordinate behaviour from her, perhaps you’d like to join us; help me train her to become more...” His breath fanned your the top of your ear, making your skin crawl by not only his warm and inviting breath, but also the offer that he had supposed to the other man.

“Obedient?” Loki asked in turn of his wispy ended offer of optimism, his leather, sharp tipped boots taking a prominent, heart clenching step towards you. He reached his finger out, grasping a loose strand that had fallen out of Bucky’s grip and before your face, tugging lightly on it, as his lips came dangerously close to your own. “Rules aren’t your forfeit, are they my dear? The best assistant I ever hired, with all those unique ideas floating around in that independent head of yours, but you’ve always been troublesome. I remember the time that you bit my cock that day you had attitude. I reckon Bucky here could do a better job.”

“Then why doesn’t he?” You hissed as said man tugged on his handful of your hair, instantly making you regret your phrase in the moment. To a halting surprise however, Bucky released you, lightly shoving you to cause you to fumble forwards, and away from him.

“Maybe I will.” He dared, earning a nod from Loki, whom seductively began to unzip his loose trousers, as Bucky descended to the ground, his hands running up his rival’s thighs, as the material dropped around Loki’s ankles. It would seem, that he had gone commando, and as Bucky grasped Loki’s shaft, you felt a pull in your chest inherently demanding that you play some part in this fornication.

“Wait.” Your hand shot out, as though you had some force to stop them from continuing with their war path to exact all of their developed spit onto you. “What about me?” You were ss

“Oh no doll, you are not pulling any strings here, if you wanna do something useful, come here and warm my cock, you can watch me blow your old associate.” A slither of a whimper fell from your lips, it wasn’t exactly what you were prying towards, but you sure as hell were not going to refuse the contact that Bucky was obliged to give you.

Thus you wandered towards him, your pinkies curling around one another, as you sashayed to the ground beside him, watching as he paid Loki no mind for a moment, ruthlessly in a desperation fuelled motion, unbuckled his thick belt, and shoved the material of his leather trousers to be held accountable against his lower thighs, just above his tense knees.

He too, as their exteriors supposed, had forgone the extra layer that kept his cock tucked away, though it was exposed as he tugged those tight trousers down, and the sight of both his and Loki’s cocks bobbing in the same vicinity had you close to quivering.

It was somewhat of a dream portrayed in the viscous space of reality, the two men half undressed in then proximity of yourself, it was something that you had always imagined, even before you had left Loki’s side, and opted to work for Bucky, but the idea was definitely short lived. They hated each other, but apparently they were willing to put all their issues aside to prohibit you from freely running your mouth.

Bucky’s cock twitched as he patted his own thigh, ordering you without the aid of his voice to commence it as a servant’s throne, or in your case, a stool for you to rest on as he tended to intimate needs of the man that you had once worked for. Finally, with the decision of better judgement, you allowed your grey jumper dress to slide down your body, leaving you nude, and the aspect of the two men’s unforgiving and locked gazes.

“No underwear, and you wonder why your men have no difficulty in her allowing them to fuck her.” Bucky took ahold of his cock, squeezing his cock with one hand, whilst his other aided you in sitting on his muscular legs, as he lightly growled up at the opposing rockstar.

From the stiff grip that Bucky affirmed around his sceptre, Loki gasped, his pale lips instantly shutting once the sound wantonly abandoned him. The last thing that he wanted was for Bucky to see him in vulnerable poise, though with that said, it’d be rather difficult considering the smutty circumstances.

Bucky took Loki’s long, alabaster prick into his mouth, starting from the primrose tip and descending down, reciprocating the action that you did yourself as you sheathed yourself onto his cock, but instead with his lips. A grunt rendered along Loki’s length as the man bit back a whimper, the vibrations running through his veins like a transpiring pulse of sorcery.

Bucky opted for bobbing his head, as you endured the liberation of his very slightly gyrating movement inside of you. Though, despite him being almost completely still and leaving you full to the brim with his thick length, his balls resting against the partition where he was delved into you, you remained transfixed.

The motion image, recording first hand through your own eyes, of him blowing Loki was sinful, but you were drawn to it. If that made you a sinner, one endorsed by the graphic scene, licking your lips from the sight of Bucky running his studded tongue up the length of Loki, dipping the ball of silver metal into his slit, then so be it.

Your heart raced as you were met with an opportunity. A globe of saliva, strung by the lapping muscle of Bucky’s tongue dropped down; you practically saw its fall in slow motion. It was done before you could register your actions, you had leant forwards, catching the trickle of spit in your mouth, thinking not for a moment as you gulped the subjective liquid down.

Bucky’s pace increased, he gagged lightly as he jolted him further down his throat. Loki hummed, harshly grabbing Bucky’s dark brunette locks, biting his lip as he reimagined your little catch. It had him feeling close, and just as he was about to finish, precum furiously pooling out of his tip, Bucky pulled back, a smirk marking his features.

“You’re not cumming in my mouth, I don’t mind sucking dick, nor swallowing, but I have to practically listen to you jizz over your own talent, and prowl over my girl.” The name he labelled you with had your heart fluttering, but not nearly as much as when he lightly pulled out of you, infuriating you with the lack of any pleasurable esteem. “Don’t you worry babes, you can finish with me inside of you, like always.”

That used to be him, Loki thought with a brewing rage in his chest. Though he instead shrugged out of his dull patterned striped shirt that was already loose on his shoulders. The fabric hit the floor, leaving all of you barren to the subject of nudity.

“Always doesn’t suppose the past Barnes.” Loki stated, referring to all the various times that he had found refuge in your spongey walls, you willingly clenching around him, and pleading for him to hit a deeper spot within you. “And I do not prowl, I don’t need to. The evidence is there between her legs, coiling in juices surrounding her ever so willing folds, that are prepared to endure the harshest of penetrations.”

“What are you trying to do, write a fucking song about this?” Scoffed Bucky, rolling his crystallised orbs at the guts that this man had. If he so much as wanted to, he could stop this passage into a three way all together, but he did not, at least he had yet to. He was enjoying the way that you were squirming to yourself, thinking that he didn’t notice, squeezing the sides of your thighs together in an aroused matrimony.

“A fucking song would’ve the correct term - literally.” Was the affirmed words of Loki, as he shoved Bucky to be sat beside you, tilting his messy brush of crazed hair, his untrustworthy eyes drifting to you. “Who’d you want to fuck you, you fangirling slut?”

It was truthfully a difficult decision. “Both.” You admitted, your bones jumping as Bucky pinched one of your erect nipples, continuing to hold a sturdy clasp of his pads around the sensitive flesh; you couldn’t jut choose one of them. Not when they were both in such close range, bore in nothing more than their birthdays suits, talking about your quivering and diversely accepting cunt.

They knew that you couldn’t possibly refuse one or the other. You were vastly too hungry to be filled like you had never been before, shagged by two of three most well known artists in the industry, earnestly and mindlessly earning yourself a title within the circle of uptight yet simultaneously chill performers.

Perhaps, if Bucky we to ever potentially fire you, there would be another pursuer for your articulating talents on standby, awaiting for the moment that you walked out of his complex door to swoop you up as though they were a predatory falcon, flying off into a stationed sunset, those around seeing you as nothing more than a shadow of the ambient orb, but the one who had employed you finding you to be a sufficing inspiration.

Large hands swallows your hips, firmly controlling their angle as they grasped you in their strong, almost super human hold, lifting you so that you were tentatively tucked in a reverse cowgirl position on Bucky’s lap. It was the third time that you had been this close to him, it would almost be intimate, if your legs weren’t strewn in an open, all revealing splay, so that Loki could see your boss tease his tip around your entrance before sliding you down his length, extracting a strong wail from your churning throat.

Your own hand resented down, applying swirls of pressure down on your clit; it appeared that they were willing you to continue without interruption. Bucky lightly, despite the power that he was promoted to in this position, began to bounce you on his shaft, spewing small mewls out from your agape mouth.

Fisting his cock, Loki approached, Bucky reachin this seen hands down to spread te lips of your pussy, so that the other man was guaranteed a crude glimpse of you being stufffed. Though, you weren’t quite filled enough, for Bucky raised a brow and prompted Loki to allow himself to be pulled closer by your axed and whining aura.

He brushed his tip languidly against your buzzing clit, dragging through your slick and jab i at your delicate fingers before probing at the base of Bucky’s cock, and pushing inside, right along his rival’s length, the pair moaning out in a pleasured union. On the other and, you had tears falling from the crescents of your eyes, the stretch so much that it was a blistering pain to your cunt.

“Don’t go all meek dear, you and i both know this is far from the first instance where you’ve had more than one cock in this nasty, betraying cunt of yours.” Loki taunted, gripping the vulnerable expanse of your throat from behind, his icy glazed skin sending provocative shivers down your spine, making your pussy pulse from the chill that ran through your body.

And then, i a split instant, both cocks began to piston into your walls, as though you were nothing more than a rag doll, meant o be thrown around and handled in a disorderly fashion. They ere ruthless, groaning out symphonies in the cursive air around you, as your walls engulfed their pricks more than snugly.

You felt so wide down there, they were taking a pirating toll on your body stealing every breath that dared wither from your lips, tweezing their nimble fingered around various parts of your body, all in due retrospect or coerce you into fucking them back, making all actions in the mass of bodies a mutual effort.

Loki lowered his head down meeting Bucky for a sloppy, brash kiss. It was clear they were simply doing that part to fulfil a greedy desire in your stomach, but you were not one that minded. It was, like the rest of their frenzy of collaborations, a competitive mess. They nipped harshly at each other’s lips, ravenously all in the meanwhile ploughing your body with their har girths.

“Fuck, that’s hot.” Your tongue dribbled, earning satisfied, lust induced smirks from both parties that were currently penetrating you, making you writhe harder against their lengths a new flow of moisture weeping out from your hole, lubricating their movements further, it encouraging them to do nothing more than continue what they were doing, despite their better judgements.

The truth was, they were rockstars. They had no better judgement, which is why everyone like them needed someone like you. Their thought were clouded with one mission, and for once in their spent lifetimes, it was not to beat the others, at least not to a certain extent anyways. It was their assignment, delivered by their own hands, to bring you to the edge, and that’s physically what they reformed to do.

One of them were groping your nipples, whilst the other confined the same treatment to your ass cheeks. Loki found your Rocky enables of positive feedback to be icicles and they were beautiful, he stared at them, as though they were divine ploys extracted from the mythical kingdom of Jotunheim, their residence in the realm to be the peacemakers of all bountiful creatures, much like himself and Barnes.

A rich euphoric groan exuberated from Bucky as he allowed himself to spoil, but he tutted whence he watched Loki’s features suppose that he was to follow shortly behind. “Not inside of her.” Bucky growled, sufficing Loki to roll his eyes, and pull out, the man behind you furiously replacing your hand, rolling our clit in his grasp until a sinful scream enveloped the air, commencing them all to the fact that you had just came.

Loki found the show to be unfair, and instead, spilled his priceless seed onto the huffing skin of your stomach, you eyes fluttered shut at the warm feeling pooling onto you. You leant back, drawing your neck into a crooked angle as you swiped your tongue wordlessly over the piercing on Bucky’s right nipple, metal providing a relief to the heat that your body was and had been swarmed with. “ Last chance you’re gonna have t taste her sweet cunt.”

“You do certainly have some faith in this one Barnes, but I do doubt that it will be the last instance in which i am todo so.” His silver tongue pried at your cum soaked flesh, drinking up all the essence that you had to offer, onshore the flavour that Bucky had brought to the table, i the form of a succulent drizzling of Snow White cum.

As Loki finishes swabbing his tongue over your cunt, Bucky adoringly kisses you, much sweeter than he has before. It was sort, and almost chaste, but his blue eyes roamed your face, delicately observing the high points of your face, that were covered with a sheen of great force making you as he would put it, glow.

The pair of you weer exhausted, there was still some swollen was to his lips from where he had sucked off Loki. His hands cradled you around your waist, his feet kicking Loki back as you whimpered from opaque sensitivity. “I guess that was you bidding me a dew.” Sneered the trickster, fishing for his clothes, as he spared you a spark filled glare, to which you ignored.

Once he was situated back into his attire, he left the sex scented room,a hollow smirk chapping his lips as he strutted th a purpose out into the hallway, taking a left instead of a right, and creeping into barnes’ studio to see what the man was working on in the midst of his enduring tour/ He was always the trickster, and nothing different was to ever be expected out of him.

“That was good.” You mumbled, rubbing your ode lovingly across the scruff that coated his jaw. His fingers made small circles upon your tummy, humming contently as he remained sheathed inside of you. He had to admit, he preferred it when it was just him, but his lonesome, sheathed within your walls, feeling the small trembles of your walls around him. It was practically heaven, and he would say so if he believed in such a place.

A deliberate knock ruined the moment, as the man entered,he quarrelled with himself where her to casually look in the direction of the pair of you or to avert his sight around, and blankly at the all. “What is it T’Challa?” Grumbled the man inside of you, quirking a thin brow at the timing of his presence.

“Loki; he managed to get into ur data, and he’s leaked a whole bunch of your music.” Of course, Loki would not come here to simply gloat, there was alas something extra up his green sleeve, and now it was revealed.

“Son of a bitch!” Bucky made a move to stand, but instead prohibited a whimper out of you as hi ships jutted angrily tip on instinct. “Get Odin on the phone, we’re going to have a little chat about his slippery hands son!” Barked Bucky, prepared t do anything to bring his greatest threat down, compiling him into the put of hate industry, until he was forgotten about, unable to ever produce new music again.

“Talk to Sif.” You whispered, becoming the image of his assistant once more, even if his cum lathered cock was prevailing within a rut of required stress relief, growing in the conjunction of your wall with his body guard there. “She loathes him, and rightfully so. He got her kicked out and she has dirt on him that nobody else has ever heard. If you want to take I’m down, she is your in.”

The strict tone grammatically supported by your logical information was definitely turning Bucky on again. He could handle you more than fine without Loki’s aid, he was just a means to an end, as it was clearly shown in his priorities.

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fridayfirefly · 4 years ago

Text

The Power of Luck [Chapter One]

Read The Power of Luck on AO3

Masterlist [All Works]

Masterlist [The Power of Luck Series]

Written for Maribat March Day 6 - Miraculous Side Effects

The Ladybug Miraculous had quite a few side effects. Marinette was able to think quick on her feet, she was a skilled tactician in battle, and her reaction time was half that of a normal human. Most notably, the Ladybug Miraculous granted its user the force known as Miraculous Luck, which, depending on the situation, was sometimes more of a curse than a blessing. Marinette didn't get to choose how that good luck manifested. For instance, when she needed an extra day to finish a history project, her school closed down due to a gas leak. Or when she wished for a fresh start after the defeat of Hawkmoth, her parents were offered a deal to grow their bakery business in America.

Marinette assured her parents that she didn't mind moving. After all, most of her class had already moved on. Lila had been deported to Italy, narrowly avoiding jail time. Chloé (much to her dismay) was sent by her father to an all-girls boarding school in England. Adrien was taken in by his Aunt Amelie (as Gabriel was in jail and Emilie was declared brain-dead) and moved to England as well.

No one else from Marinette's class left the country, but many of them moved out of Paris. Nathanial was accepted to an elite art school in Marseille. Max was accepted to a gifted program at an elite school in Bordeaux. Officer Raincomprix was transferred to Toulouse and took Sabrina with him. Juleka and Luka both started homeschooling after their mother sailed the houseboat down the Seine to the city of Rouen.

Worst of all was the loss of Alya. Her parents were horrified that the son of Hawkmoth was in the same class as their daughter, and promptly pulled Alya out of class and decided to move out of the city. Alya begged them for weeks but nothing came of her protests. In the end, Alya left too.

The Miraculous Luck could do a lot of things, but it couldn't keep her friends together. Those who remained at François Dupont filled holes in other classes. Marinette tried to make the best of her new class, but she felt no real connection to them. When her parents proposed the move, Marinette jumped on the opportunity. In Gotham, she wouldn't be haunted by the ghost of her old life.

Marinette cut her hair, leaving it choppy and just above the shoulders. She donated all of her brightly colored clothes to the thrift store down the street and created a new wardrobe for herself. It was toned down and mature, much more fitting for Gotham.

Marinette left Paris a much different girl than the naive fourteen-year-old who thought she could save the world. She was ready for a city like Gotham, a city that didn't make any promises, a city where Marinette could set down some new roots.

-----

At first, it was easy to fly under the radar at Gotham Academy. It was a school filled with the self-absorbed children of millionaires and billionaires, after all. Marinette was there on scholarship - her good grades, leadership experience, and working-class parents combined to cut her tuition down by 75%. Marinette quickly learned that scholarship students were at best ignored, and at worst mercilessly bullied. So Marinette kept her head down and vowed that she would get through the year unscathed.

There was one variable, however, that the Miraculous Luck wasn't able to account for. Marinette's entire plan fell apart thanks to one boy: Damian Wayne.

Marinette became acquainted with Damian Wayne through the school's rumor mill. She learned that he was one of the most wealthy and most attractive people in the school, but he was thought himself too good to spend time with any of his fellow classmates (Marinette couldn't fault him on the last bit; she also found the students at Gotham Academy to be difficult, to say the least). Marinette also learned through the school's rumor mill that Damian spent quite a lot of time staring at her. Given that Damian had never paid the slightest amount of attention to a Gotham Academy girl before, this was a big deal. Suddenly Marinette was the farthest thing from under the radar. Everyone who used to look down on her wanted to be her friend. It was exhausting.

Marinette resolved to ignore Damian Wayne - an easy task, given that she still didn't even know what he looked like. Now that everyone was staring at her, it was hard to

"Why?" grumbled Marinette. "Why couldn't my so-called Miraculous Luck help me get through one normal year of school?"

Tikki shrugged from her spot inside of Marinette's backpack. "Maybe all of this attention will turn out to be a good thing?"

"I doubt that." Marinette glanced around, checking that no one had spotted her talking to her backpack. There was one spot in the cafeteria that was hidden from view, a window-sill nestled behind a pillar, bordered by a wall on one side and an out of order vending machine on the other. Marinette sat on the window-sill every day to eat lunch, with Tikki as her companion for the meal.

"I think your problem is that you're overthinking this. Miraculous Luck always works out in the end, even if there are some obstacles in the middle."

"I just want this horrible school year to be over," sighed Marinette, setting her head down in her arms.

"Don't give up yet, Marinette. I have high hopes for this school year," said Tikki.

Marinette had some serious doubts but picked her head up anyway. Maybe this year wouldn't turn out the way she expected. Marinette defeated Hawkmoth, the greatest villain Paris ever faced. She could survive a year of high school.

-----

Marinette was going to survive her senior year of high school. Damian Wayne on the other hand... Marinette still wasn't sure if she was going to let him survive the year, after everything he put her through.

"Excuse me?" a sickeningly sweet voice piped up from behind Marinette.

Marinette put on her best disinterested-face, took out one headphone, and turned around. "Yes?"

There were three girls standing behind her: a blonde, flanked on both sides by a brunette and a red-head. The blonde girl had a smile on her face but a devious look in her eyes. Marinette had long ago learned to spot manipulators, and this girl had it written all over her. "Are you Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Yes."

"My name is Julie Cooper. I was just wondering... Are you dating Damian Wayne?"

Marinette huffed in exasperation. "What do you think?"

Julie's eyes narrowed. "I just wanted to warn you. I mean, did you really think that Damian Wayne would seriously date a girl here on scholarship? You should break up with him before you get hurt."

"It was a rhetorical question. I'm not dating Damian Wayne. It's just a rumor."

Julie instantly perked up. "Oh, good! I was beginning to think that Damian had lost his mind. I mean, I'm sure you would be a nine or a ten at a public school, but at Gotham Academy, you're like a seven, maybe an eight on a good day. Most of the girls who go here are actually hot, not just," the girl waved her hand towards Marinette. "Above average."

Marinette wasn't sure if Julie meant for her to feel flattered or offended, but her words had the strange effect of making Marinette feel both all at once. "Um, thanks? I'm going to go now."

Julie's brunette friend suddenly paled as the girl started to tug on Julie's sleeve. "Um, Julie?" she whispered.

"What, Nora?" Julie's eyes widened as they fixed on something behind Marinette.

Marinette turned around to see what the cause of their concern was. Or rather, to see who the cause of their concern was. It was a boy, tall and scowling. "Are you done here, Cooper?"

Julia nodded, a nervous edge to her voice, "Bye, Marinette." She and her two friends hurried off, exchanging frantic whispers.

"What do you want?" asked Marinette with a sigh. She was tired of dealing with boys who were only interested in her because Damian Wayne was interested in her.

"I wished to apologize."

"For Julie? Did you put her up to this?"

The boy looked confused. "No, of course not. I meant that I wanted to apologize for everything, not just Julie Cooper."

"For everything?" The truth suddenly dawned on Marinette. "You're Damian Wayne! I didn't think that you would be so tall."

"You didn't know what I looked like?" There was real shock in his voice.

"Well, by the time I learned that you had been staring at me everyone was staring at me, so that wasn't much help in figuring out who you were."

"You could have googled me."

Marinette shrugged. "I could have, but it felt weird to google one of my classmates. I pretty much just resigned myself to never figuring out who you were."

"I should have approached you sooner. I've wanted to apologize for a while, but every time I've caught you alone you've looked like you wanted to be left that way."

"I'm not a fan of most of the students here."

"The students here can be..." Damian searched for the appropriate word. "Tiresome. I resigned myself to a dull four years of high school in their company. That is, until I saw you."

Marinette cocked her head. "Why me, though? I'm nothing special."

"You're different than everyone else here."

Marinette stiffened. "I know. I've been told. I'm here on a scholarship which means I don't belong," she snapped

Damian shook his head. "No, that's not what I meant. You move through life differently than all of the other students here. You don't care about the gossip or drama - at least, not until you were right at the center of it all. You've seen the real world, so you float above the high school drama. You're just so... so..."

"So what?" Marinette's tone softened.

Damian ran his hand through his hair, ruffling it. The addition of the messy hair added a certain charm to his otherwise polished exterior. "I've been brainstorming for the right word for weeks. The best I can come up with is pure. You don't let yourself become affected by anything in this school."

It was a very flattering description of her. It was also very on the nose. "I'll forgive you, Damian Wayne, but only on one condition."

"What?"

"I want to get to know you, and I have a feeling that you feel the same way."

Damian nodded. "It's a deal."

Maybe her Miraculous Luck wasn't so useless after all. Marinette had expected to go the whole year without making a single friend. Now, it seemed that she might make one after all.

@maribatmarch-2k21

#maribat #daminette #Marinette Dupain-Cheng #Damian Wayne #MaribatMarch2021 #maridami #marinette x damian #miraculous ladybug fic #my work

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mrsgiovanna · 4 years ago

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A lesson in Recollection (Don Giorno x Wife! Reader)

An awesome request from a nonnie mouse, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Thanks so much for requesting my sweet 💕💜😘💭🐞

TW: brief descriptions of injuries, anxiety and hospitals

Word count: 1.7k

The beeps and hisses of the medical equipment were the only sounds that could be heard in your hospital room. Next to your bed sat your husband, jaw squared off, mouth clenched shut trying to contain his rage. His usually immaculate appearance was disheveled as he clutched your delicate hand against his lips.

He blamed himself for the position you were in by default, a husband was supposed to love and protect, the convention is built into the vows themselves. In reality though, the attack had happened so fast and so suddenly that nobody would have been able to preempt it. None of that mattered now… even though the offenders were severely dealt with, your condition was still the same. It had been a week, and you were still asleep. Your superficial injuries were taken care of by Giorno, but still you wouldn’t wake up. Numerous scans and brain activity tests revealed some swelling in your brain which was slowly subsiding, he simply had to be patient and wait for you to open your eyes again… and fortunately for him, it happened… unfortunately, you stared at him blankly, unable to put a name to his handsome, crestfallen face.

“Tesoro, it’s me… Giorno… your husband,”

“Tesoro? What’s that? I’m… married? I… I don’t feel so good,” you whispered, unable to find your voice after being unconscious for so long.

“Okay, okay amore, I’m getting your doctor, please hang on for me,”

You looked around at the unfamiliar surroundings, at the towering blond man scrambling around with all the white coats, you tried to push yourself up to join the conversation happening just above your head, but your physical strength was virtually nonexistent.

You were given a few days to physically recuperate, being subjected to test upon test to make sure that there was no other underlying cause for your loss of memory. The man who called himself your husband came to see you every day, bringing your favorite flowers, drinks, foods and scents with him in an attempt to help your memory recover. Even though you couldn’t remember him, you felt a sense of peace when you were around him, as if his soul was trying to connect on a subconscious level with your own. He was the only one who was able to talk you down from your bouts of anxiety, or the nightmares that sometimes plagued you. You figured he must have loved you immensely with all the effort he put into trying to get you to remember him.

“Your wife has retrograde amnesia, Mr. Giovanna. Fortunately, the swelling has subsided and her intracranial pressure has managed to consistently remain within normal levels, which is why I’m clearing her to go home. If there is any change in her condition or level of consciousness though, bring her back immediately. The road is a long one, Mr. Giovanna, there are no guarantees that her memories will return, but I have confidence that with the right care, she will be able to recover steadily.” Your doctor spoke honestly, not wanting to create unrealistic expectations, what he didn’t know was that Giorno was the type of person who always achieved whatever he had put his mind to- and right now, he was only concerned with making sure you would come out of this as unscathed as possible. Knowing that you would need all of his attention in the near future, he enlisted the help of his underboss and consigliere to help him run the organization remotely without having anyone privy to what he was actually doing. Both Mista and Fugo willingly obliged, wanting nothing than for you to make a full recovery.

“Thank you doctor, I’ll keep a close eye on her,” Giorno was relieved you were well enough to return home, the villa was painfully quiet and empty without you and he was certain that being in your sanctuary would help you remember your life with him. Looking at you sitting with your legs swinging off the side of your hospital bed and a faraway look in your eyes, you appeared so fragile and innocent.

“Good morning beautiful, how are you feeling today?” you turned to face him with a soft smile.

“Good morning Giorno, I’m okay thanks, and you?” the tender way in which you addressed him, being concerned for his well-being warmed his heart, whether you remembered him or not, you were still you… he was still yours as much as you were his.

“I’m much better now that I’m taking you home, shall we leave my love?”

“I’m ready, let’s go,”

Your doting husband helped you off the bed and took your things, you didn’t want to be wheeled out on the wheelchair, so you both walked out to the luxury car waiting for you. You didn’t expect there to be a driver, or a guard escorting you both… what does he do as job to be able to afford all this you mused. Come to think of it, you didn’t really know what your job was either… you decided to leave those questions for later. The entire drive home, you looked out of the window, the route home was unfamiliar, the imposing villa you were driven up to didn’t even feel real.

“Welcome home my love. Come, let’s get you settled in,”

“We live here? What exactly do we do?” your voice was imbued with curiosity.

“Well, I run a large, multidivisional organization, you are in charge of handing our philanthropic ventures, I’ll explain more later on… are you okay to walk up the stairs? In fact, never mind,” he said as he lifted you off the ground and carried you up the stairs despite your reassurances that you were fine. You looked at the beautifully decorated home, pictures of you both tastefully dotted throughout the hall way. Looking at his gorgeous angled face, you wondered how you both met and fell in love.

“This is our room bella, would you like to take a nap?”

“Gio, I’m fine… sorry, it just slipped out, do you mind if I call you Gio? It just sounds… right,”

“Of course bella, I’d prefer that. Ah! You must be hungry, all those days just eating hospital food… what would you like eat? Our chef will make anything you want, everyone has missed you here, so they’re all pretty excited you’re back home,”

“Really? I’d like to meet everyone later… if they’re not busy,”

“Okay my love,” said Giorno as he went into his closet to fetch something more casual to wear, choosing a simple V-neck t-shirt and jeans, shaking out his hair from its usual style, and leaving it unbound about his shoulders. He walked out to find you sitting at your vanity, looking at the products and the baubles, lifting up your favorite hairbrush and examining its engravings. He walked towards you, and took his place behind you, lifting your hair off your shoulders and bringing it to the back, he took the ornate brush from your grasp and began to gently brush your hair. Your injuries were well healed by now, but Giorno was still extremely careful.

“How does this feel? I’m not hurting you am I?

“No, it feels really nice actually… Gio… would you tell me how we met? Like, what’s our story? I see all the pictures around and we look so happy,”

“We were happy, bella, we still are, we’ll get back what was lost and create even better memories on the way… we met 10 years ago, we were just stupid ambitious kids back then, both 15 years old with heads full of dreams. I won’t go into detail, but we had very… unique occupations and abilities. We’ve been through a lot together, and rebuilt this organization from the ground up. We’ve been together as a couple for seven years and married for the past two,”

“Sounds like quite a journey for a pair as young as us… and now there’s this… I’m sorry, I’m sure you didn’t imagine something like this would happen,” the apologetic quality of your voice saddened Giorno, the last thing he wanted was for you to feel like this was your fault.

“We have fought against worse my love, and just like that we’ll handle this together… come, no sad faces now,” said Giorno as he braided some flowers into your hair.

“Wow, you’re good at this… where did you get the flowers from, you didn’t move an inch?” you asked, admiring his handiwork.

With a smile he replied that he’ll show you a bit later on, which you accepted. The rest of day was spent by talking about some of the interesting things that had happened to you both in the past. Being wary of overwhelming you, Giorno didn’t go into great detail about the more tragic experiences. When it came time for you to sleep, he suggested he sleep in one of the guest rooms if you felt uncomfortable, but you asked him to stay with you, feeling guilty that you were the reason he felt like he had to behave like a guest in his own home.

As you got more comfortable, and built up your strength with your recovery, Giorno slowly started reintegrating you back into your old routine, as difficult as it was, you had made great strides in re-learning key bits of information. Your mental fortitude had constantly reminded your husband exactly why he had fallen in love with you, the least he could do with your trying so hard, was to match your effort, working tirelessly with you on the exercises that your therapist suggested, recreating pivotal events so you could experience some semblance of what you would have when it initially occurred, and most importantly, being the support you needed when things became overwhelming.

Slowly you were reintroduced to Mista, Fugo and Trish, reestablishing the friendships almost immediately. You were grateful for the wonderful people who surrounded you, from the staff at the villa to Giorno’s closest associates who constantly sought to aid in your recovery. Most of all though, you were grateful for Giorno, you were aware of how much he had done and continues to do to aid you. While you were cognizant of everything you had been through together, having regained most of your memory through your combined efforts, what had remained altered though, was how you felt about Giorno, this whole experience solidifying your bond even more than you thought possible, it had just reaffirmed that you both would be able to overcome even the most dire of situations if you handled it together.

#giorno giovanna x reader #giorno x reader #giorno giovanna #giorno #don giorno #don giovanna #giogio #jjba x reader #jojo x reader #vento aureo #jjba #golden wind #jojo's bizarre adventure #jojo no kimyou na bouken

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