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#and there's been an ache in my soul i didn't notice until he said this
kentucky-daisey · 2 years
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It’s been eight years since i sang in a choir and ten years since i was in band, but the theatre director at work decided to start a choir and our first rehearsal is this Monday and i am genuinely so excited. I feel emotional just thinking about it.
Life has been hard lately and i can’t wait to experience the joy of making music with other people again.
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greenandsorrow · 5 months
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the price for misbehaving (ii)
post rut Alastor x gn!reader
WARNINGS; the aftermath of a very horny fic, mentions of deer mating season, friends to lovers, deer/doe!demon!reader, reader with self worth doubts, a sprinkle of angst, curly-haired!Alastor, undertones of Alastor being a momma's boy, mentions of his past, making out, fluff (literally), plot
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Dividers by; @saradika-graphics & @cafekitsune
Please do not repost or directly copy my work and don't use it on AI platforms either.❤️
From a smutty oneshot to a multi chap fic. Nothing can compare to the chunkiness of the 1st chapter, but I'm satisfied with this one as well. Enjoy you lovely beings and thanks for being patient with me!!! The art above is by @kalico-of-doom.
~masterpost~
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The only time Alastor isn't smiling is when he's sleeping you have come to realize. You can't help but notice how tired he looks as you lay motionless beside him. You start petting his ears and he groans softly, nuzzling deeper into your touch without even bothering to open his eyes. A small smile forms on his mouth, a real one. Is this really the same man that has been fucking you until your legs stop working?
In the morning you wake up in his bed, a daily occurrence at this point. However, you weren't expecting him to be staring deeply into your contemned soul.
"A- Al?"
Your voice is hoarse from sleep. You scratch your deer ears, flop on your back and stretch. Alastor keeps staring, studying you and every micro expression you make.
You can feel fear creeping into your gut. Is this the end? Is the rutting season gone? Does he want to kill you and eat you now? Will he kick you out? One thing is certain.
He doesn't need you anymore.
After all, you were just a friend helping him go through a difficult time. Nothing more. Still, you would be lying to yourself if you said that you haven't caught any feelings. From his forceful claiming that hid a great deal of desperation to his tender claiming last night, Alastor has left more than just his mark on you. One could say that he owns you in the most primal and raw of ways, but if he chooses to deny that... that's all it takes really, then you were nothing but a fucktoy.
"Um... I- I'm gonna take a shower"
Is that you doing the walk of shame? Alastor is a gentleman, why isn't he saying anything?! Not a single thing that could make you feel less terrible about the whole situation!
Now that his hormones have died down and you are far from aroused as well, getting out of bed and standing completely naked in front of him... It makes you feel exposed, vulnerable, small and inferior to him.
This new emotion, the deep embarrassment that has your face feeling hot and your stomach to churn with anxiety makes you dress up and leave "your friend's" room in the speed of light.
You lock yourself in your much smaller room, preparing a bubble bath for your spent and tired body. You smile to yourself a little, remembering how Charlie had made sure you'd have your own bathtub so that you can read your books while soaking in the warm water.
Sinking in the water, having it envelope you, cleanse your energy and take his scent off of you feels nice. You let your eyes droop until they close lazily, you allow your shoulders to relax, your jaw to unclench. A long and audible sigh. Your hands around your frame.
You start crying.
If another deer demon resided in the hotel, he might as well had spent his breeding season with them. You weren't special. The mere thought of such a thing is killing you. You were just another victim of the radio demon's manipulation.
Still, it's your fault as well. For believing this was more than what it appeared to be? Maybe. You are getting more and more confused by the minute.
But oh the way he had been repeating your name like a prayer... It must mean something to him, you being there for him that is. You didn't even judge the way he had spilled tears of sexual frustration when handjobs weren't enough to relieve the ache in his loins.
Who else has seen Alastor Hartfelt of pride under this light? No one. You are the only exception. He wouldn't have allowed you to get so close to him if he didn't trust you.
As your thoughts keep overlapping and fighting with each other and you continue to cry softly, you peak up the all too familiar sound of static.
Another unfair thing! He can melt into shadow and go anywhere he pleases... The sound intensifies as he approaches... you? Is he really thinking of invading your space like that? You can't even cry and be miserable at peace! Not like you're in Hell.
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"Bonjou! Konmen s'apé kouri? Huh?"
Not only are you not in the mood to ask him to translate what he just said, but Alastor literally spawned in your bathroom and he's now acting like this is okay to do. The way he's readjusting his lapels and smiles smugly like he wasn't a grunting mess last night infuriates you even further.
"Can you please get the fuck out of here?"
"Mh?" he just stands there in his usual apathy. He's even holding his cane.
"Can you at least stop smiling for a second?"
"Oh ho! I'm afraid I can't do that my dear!"
"But you can definitely get your ass out of my room! I-" The sound of your voice carries to your ears like a child whining. There's a lump in your throat that you're beginning to fear you won't be able to keep down for much longer. If your face and hair weren't already wet from the bath, then it would be crystal clear that you were weeping like an idiot before he suit himself in.
Alastor is quick to gauge your body language. You're hugging your knees, shielding your naked body from him. Sometimes you swear he can tell your emotional state by sniffing the air around you. It's like your scent is enough for him to piece together the puzzle you are. The radio demon scranches his nose.
"What's there to be so sad over y/n? Today is a beautiful day!"
Is he playing stupid?! Because if he's doing this on purpose... Well, there's not much you can do now that he doesn't need you anymore.
Your lower lip trembles at this terrible thought and the lump in your throat escapes your notice, resulting in a broken and weak sob to come out of you.
Tilting his head to the side way more than necessary and squinting his eyes, Alastor asks "Are you pregnant?"
You freeze and widen your eyes. "I- Is that even... even fuckin' possible in the afterlife?"
The fucker chuckles!
"Oh I don't think so, at least not for lowly demons such as yourself!" The worst part is that he wasn't trying to insult you by saying that, but rather calm you down.
"Go to Hell."
"Ironic."
You can't help it now. You break down in tears. Your chest feels tight as the sobs ripple through your body and make your frame retreat to itself. In addition to your general misery, the water has gone cold, causing you to shiver.
The overlord places his cane against the tiles of the wall and crouches down so he is eye-level with you. He won't let it show just yet, but Alastor is very worried. There's a guilt eating him from the inside.
While he was in heat, in breeding mode, or whatever you wanna call it, he wasn't fully aware of his actions. Alastor's mind was blurred from the desire to mate and basically reproduce. Now that he's back to his senses, he has come to the unpleasant realisation that he might have caused you harm in the process of letting out his passion.
And this simply won't do! This deer demon has done cruel and vile things that he doesn't particularly feel bad about, but hurting you... He would never be able to forgive himself.
You were there for him and showed him a great deal of love and understanding.
So, that's the reason you left so hurriedly from his quarters... He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. He hurt you. HE DID IT TO YOU.
Alastor's permanent grin fades just slightly. It is replaced by concern, evident in the way he looks at your trembling body in the water. He reaches out to gently touch your skin, checking for any signs of pain or discomfort. Your friend's voice softens, it's now filled with genuine worry and regret.
"I'm so sorry darling... I didn't know I caused you... pain."
It's true that you have many bruises and hickeys decorating various places on your body, but that's not the reason behind your breakdown.
"I- It's not th-" you just look down. You can't even explain yourself.
The radio demon's worry deepens after your vague response and he quickly takes action to be by your side, pulling you out of the bathtub and into a tight hug. Alastor whispers reassurances in your ear, his voice filled with remorse.
"I'm so sorry... We should have stopped when it got too much."
No one has heard Alastor apologize before, not even God, for all that's worth.
His expression softens even further as he sees your tears that just keep coming. He carefully brushes them away, worry etched into every line of his handsome face.
"I didn't mean to make you cry. You must know that."
"I'm not in pain... Just sad."
You do look rather devastated.
Alastor is almost frozen in place from all the guilt since he can now see the bruises forming on your skin. The water camouflaged them, but now they are exposed for him to observe and take in.
He swallows hard, his voice shaking with emotion like never before. "Y/n... I didn't mean to do that. I didn't. None of it."
"None of it?"
Your voice is muffled due to how you have hid your face in his chest. At least he's warm.
"My intention wasn't to cause you injury or physical pain."
You look up at him, finally making eye contact. He's looking at you as well, eyes shining with regret, guilt and what appears to be shame.
What really surprises you though, is the pleading tone of his voice. It's one thing to be vulnerable because he's hungry for sexual contact and another because he genuinely cares for you.
"Can you ever forgive me for this? I promise, it was never my true intention. I just... I got carried away. And now... It's not an excuse..."
"You really meant none of it to happen between us?"
"Now now little deer! Someone's getting ahead of themselves! That's not what I implied at all."
You sigh and settle in his lap.
"Oh mon cher, did you really think I regret our... stimulating times?"
Alastor's long arms press you against him, his clothes absorbing the water on your still bare skin. He then peaks you up bridal style and carries you to your bed. It's not king sized like his but he doesn't seem to care for such detail right now.
"Now let me see you."
"I said I'm fine!"
"The artist will be the evaluator of his work."
"No Al! Artists get critics to evaluate their work."
"Hmmm, did you say something dear? Cause I didn't hear you!"
It's a common tactic of his to hide his real feelings by being chatty and pleasant. You of course know that, but in your current state it's very validating to have him take care of you.
So he did care. And he still does after having stopped necessarily needing you.
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Alastor isn't joking around. He's searching your body, subconsciously writing down every scratch, every bruise and hickey, every bite mark.
Ears alert on top of his head, eyes wide open. He can even make out the shape of his fingertips on your hips... He turns you on your stomach only to discover his whole palms are imprinted on your buttocks. Meanwhile, you just allow him to inspect your body for as long as he wishes. All the crying has left you drained but also tranquil and calm.
"I'm fine Al. Really."
"Shhh, I'm not done evaluating the damage."
"It's just a bite or two."
"I drew so much blood..."
"Yes and?"
He just keeps observing, keeps rolling you this way and that. The scratches and the bruises are the most triggering to him. They remind Alastor of unhappy memories, in the days when he still hadn't taken good care of his father. As long as he hasn't permanently marked you it should be fine.
"I'll ask Niffty for some ice."
"N- no... Can we just... sit here? Like... cuddle?"
"You were my solace."
"What-"
He gently presses a finger on your lips to shush you.
"Thank you."
"You don't have to say that. It's not like I helped you with a flat tire or something."
"I don't do cuddling."
"Nor touching for that matter. But... It's not that bad, huh? Just let me put something on first."
You stand up and go to your closet to pick something to put on. Your hair is still wet and your legs still feel sore from all of your intense moments, but it was a relief to know he still wants you in his life after the rut has ended.
Alastor's behaviour makes you wonder. He's contradictory. From fucking your throat in his radio station, to bending you over various objects in the hotel, taking you in missionary, against walls, windows and doors, he still seems pretty reluctant to give himself to intimacy. Unlike those times, his mind is now clear, no overwhelming heat involved. Intimacy -to him- equals vulnerability and vulnerability equals pain. The inevitable way in which things had worked out in his life.
"But we did sleep together until yesterday."
The radio demon cannot deny you. He's already sat at the edge of your bed, taking off his coat, shoes and anything else that could make the experience any less enjoyable.
"I wish I could say you'll take this to your grave."
You grin brightly and chuckle at his silly, little remark. Your confidence has been restored to an extent after he made it clear that he does concern himself with your wellbeing.
"But why do you not like being touched? Physical contact is a form of affection."
"Or a form of punishment, of intimidation, domination and... many other vile things my dear..." His voice is too low for your liking as he says that. You don't know what burdens Alastor's shoulders, but it can't be good. And I'm not even referring to his own cruelty and the pain he has inflicted on others. Maybe his opinion of physical contact is connected to the endless scars on his body.
"Oh well whatevs Al. I just want my cuddles."
The way his ears are pulled back and he looks at you almost like he's a shy and innocent boy makes your heart bit faster. At least there's no velvet rubbing off his antlers this time.
Alastor is extremely gentle and cautious in the way he handles you now. He lays down on his back and you use his chest as a pillow. It's a cozy place. His chest. He has some fluff there, just like Angel Dust, but unlike the former he hides it under layers of clothing and keeps it unstyled. Still, it's undoubtedly soft and fuzzy and you like to sink your hand in it or swirl the soft hairs around your fingertips. The radio demon isn't complaining as one might expect, it's soothing to have someone touch his body in a non-hostile manner. It's refreshing to have someone appreciate his body as it is.
Would you also appreciate it if you saw him as he once was?
His father hadn't. He could handle the child of a mixed marriage, but Alastor wasn't just mixed, but also looked the part and according to the racist beliefs of his father in the 1900's that was a bad thing.
As you're nuzzling against his long and elegant neck, your friend's mind wanders. You lived during the 90's. What would it have been like if he had also lived during that period? Everything would have been different. The town he grew up in, his relationship with his parents, his career as a radio host and a serial killer.
"Did you know that my hair is naturally curly?"
Your ears perk up at that and Alastor gently takes hold of them and pulls at them from the root, just slightly.
"That feels nice..."
"Oh I know."
"What were you saying?"
"Oh yes, my hair's curly! Since I was nothing but a tiny, adorable baby boy! ...my mother... she..." His hand lets go of your ears and you can feel the rise and fall of his chest as he takes a deep breath and lets it out in a long sigh.
There's a melancholy about him now and you feel the need to comfort him. He's opening up to you by being genuine and vulnerable. Alastor is sharing a part of who he used to be and the least you can do is listen. You resume your activities on his fluff, almost massaging the area. He seems to like it, for a moment closing his eyes and letting a sound like purring.
"Can you keep this up?"
"Sure Al."
"Merci. What was I saying...? Oh yes of course! Mama and my curly mop."
The radio effect of his voice and his arms around you make you feel like you're a kid being told a bedtime story. It's a good thing the other residents have gotten used to you and Alastor disappearing together for long periods of time. His soft chest fluff under the pads of your fingers only intensifies the feeling of being told a story while tucked in bed, warm and safe from the outside world.
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"It's truly amazing how much power is given to hair in certain cultures. In my culture, dear y/n, hair texture served as an indicator of social status. My family -a wedding between a white man and a creole woman of colour... oh ho dear! It was something else back then...-
As a kid, I was always the one teased for having “weird hair”, as if it didn’t match my other facial features. When school began, my sweet mama, she... she would put my hair in locs to protect the curls. Apparently they didn't like that at school! So my father... he radio static intensifies he made my mother shave it. He claimed that if my mother and I wore our hair differently then no one would take us seriously."
You take a moment to digest this new piece information. It's true that locs enclose the natural hair and help it stay intact. It's also true that Alastor grew up in a time when it was very difficult to be of a cultural background which was different to the majority's. You choose to not comment on anything, that's not your job.
You swirl some more of his fluff around your fingertips before moving your hand to his hair.
"Well, it's not curly in the afterlife."
You feel the vibration of his chuckle through your check that is resting on his chest.
"But it is!"
Alastor lets out a satisfied sound as he presses you even tighter against him and begins rumbling about his hair care routine. He uses anti frizz oils, heat protection oils and then blow dries it. Truth is, that's just the steps you managed to actually register in your brain, because a sleepiness started overtaking you as you stayed laying in his embrace.
You're now fading between consciousness and unconsciousness. It almost feels like you're floating. Is this what Heaven is like?
Maybe it is. Maybe it is not. But you did manage to find your little oasis in Hell. And so did he.
Alastor looks down at your much smaller frame curled up against him. Your breath has slowed down and your eyes are closing. Why does it feel so warm and soft to have you close to him like this? He knows he shouldn't be letting his guard down, but he can't help it when it comes to you. The radio demon is enamoured with you.
Wanting to make the experience even cozier and dreamier for his favourite sinner, Alastor starts singing quietly. His sense of rhythm is immaculate and his jazzy tunes make you fall sound asleep in no time whatsoever.
When you wake up an hour or so later, he still hasn't moved, but he acknowledges that you're awake with a small hum.
"Oh wakey wakey my darling y/n!" had been his usual response to you waking up while he was in the rut. However, right now he appears to be much more unguarded and raw than his usual persona. You haven't even completely woken up and you're already wondering about this new side of him.
"Al? Is everything okay?"
"Oh why yes it is, but there's this thought occupying my brilliant mind..."
"Care to share it with my not so brilliant one?"
You expected him to laugh or even chuckle but Alastor goes straight to the point. "All this... making love and we still haven't kissed. Not really."
Kissing him would mean that you actually view him romantically and that whatever "friends with benefits" situation you had going on will get destroyed. That's not a bad thing though. Despite your initial fears of your fellow deer demon being too emotionally unavailable and only needing you to calm down the torment of his lust, a kiss wouldn't hurt. Kisses are good.
"We can change that y'know."
You make the first step by leaning towards him, basically giving him the green light that you're consenting to this. Alastor notices it and loses no time, pressing his lips against yours while wrapping his arms around you and pulling you close into another embrace. He smiles widely as you kiss, his head tilting slightly as he runs his fingers through your hair. After a few seconds pass, he pulls his head back, slowly breaking the kiss as he looks into your eyes with a broad smile on his face.
"Aren't you delightful?!" and he dives back in.
Alastor's second kiss with you is firm and passionate, but not overly aggressive. His lips are very warm and he seems to enjoy the intimacy of taking his time to explore your mouth. As the kiss progresses, he gradually increases the pressure of his lips on yours. His arms wrap around your waist and his tongue slowly wanders further into the welcoming heat of your mouth.
Once again -just like when it came to sex- you have come to the conclusion that Alastor isn't that experienced, but some raw power, an instinct if you will, provides him with the ability to do all the right moves at the right time.
And then you just break character. You burst into laughter. His large and pointed ears twitch at that change of pace.
"When I thought I was doing a good job-"
"Oh no, that's not it at all. I'm just happy." You're giddy and so is he.
Maybe not needing you but actually wanting you isn't the worst case scenario.
To be continued.
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rosesareredrosa · 16 days
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The Strongest Weapon
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Mattheo Riddle x reader
Summary: based on this ask <33
w/c: 1344
The cold wind whipped through the corridors of Hogwarts as you made your way to the Astronomy Tower, your heart heavy with worry. Mattheo Riddle, the boy you had come to love, had grown distant, a shadow of the person you once knew. His usual charm and warmth had been replaced by a chilling detachment, as though something dark was gnawing away at his soul.
You found him at the top of the tower, staring out at the night sky. The stars glittered like distant, unreachable hopes, casting an eerie light on Mattheo's tense features. His dark curls were tousled by the wind, but he didn't seem to notice. He was lost in thought, his brow furrowed, his jaw clenched. You could feel the weight of something terrible pressing down on him.
"Mattheo," you called softly, stepping closer. He didn’t turn to face you, but you could see the tension in his shoulders. "Please, talk to me. I’m worried about you."
He remained silent for a moment, and when he finally spoke, his voice was cold and distant. "There’s nothing to talk about."
Your heart ached at his words. This wasn’t the Mattheo you knew—the boy who had once made you laugh until you cried, who had held your hand when you were scared, who had whispered sweet promises of a future together. This was someone else entirely, someone shaped by the darkness you feared.
"There is," you insisted, taking another step forward. "You’ve been distant, withdrawn. I can see that something’s wrong. Whatever it is, we can face it together."
Finally, he turned to you, his eyes dark and stormy, filled with an inner turmoil that sent a shiver down your spine. "You wouldn’t understand," he muttered, his voice laced with bitterness. "This isn’t your fight."
"Is it because of your father?" you asked, your voice trembling slightly. The very mention of Lord Voldemort made your blood run cold, but you couldn’t let fear stop you. "What has he done to you?"
Mattheo’s expression hardened at the mention of his father. "He’s given me a choice," he said quietly, his voice filled with a mix of anger and despair. "Join him, or suffer the consequences. There’s no escaping him. Not for me, and not for you if you stay with me."
The words hung heavy in the air, each one a knife to your heart. You had always known that Mattheo’s lineage was a curse he bore in silence, but you had never imagined it would come to this.
"You don’t have to follow him," you said desperately, reaching out to grasp his arm. "We can leave, Mattheo. We can run far away, somewhere he can’t find us. We’ll figure it out together."
He shook his head, pulling away from your touch, his eyes filled with a painful resignation. "You don’t understand. If I refuse him, he’ll kill me. And if he knows about us, he’ll kill you too. I won’t let that happen."
Tears welled up in your eyes as you saw the agony in his expression, the internal battle he was fighting between the person he wanted to be and the person his father was forcing him to become. "But what about you? What happens when you lose yourself to him? I can’t lose you to that darkness."
His eyes softened for a moment, and you saw a flicker of the Mattheo you knew and loved. But it was quickly replaced by a cold determination. "I’m doing this to protect you," he said, his voice barely a whisper. "I love you too much to let him take you away from me."
Before you could respond, a cold, sinister voice echoed through the tower, making your blood run cold.
"Ah, young love. So fragile, so naive."
You spun around to see the shadowy figure of Lord Voldemort himself emerging from the darkness, his serpentine face twisted into a cruel smile. His presence was suffocating, filling the room with an aura of pure evil.
"Father," Mattheo said, his voice trembling with a mix of fear and defiance.
Voldemort’s cold, red eyes flickered to you, and his smile widened. "I see you’ve been distracted, my son. This… attachment is making you weak."
Mattheo stepped in front of you, shielding you with his body. "She’s not part of this," he said firmly. "Leave her out of it."
Voldemort chuckled, a sound that sent chills down your spine. "On the contrary, she’s very much part of this. You see, Mattheo, love is a weakness, and weaknesses must be eliminated."
Before you could react, Voldemort raised his wand, his movements quick and deliberate. "Crucio."
The curse hit you like a bolt of lightning, sending waves of excruciating pain coursing through your body. You screamed, collapsing to the ground as the agony ripped through you. It was as if your very nerves were on fire, burning away every thought, every hope, every dream.
Through the blinding pain, you heard Mattheo shout, his voice filled with desperation and rage. "No! Stop it! Please, stop!"
But Voldemort’s twisted smile only grew as he watched you writhe in agony. "Do you see now, Mattheo? This is what happens when you allow yourself to care. It makes you vulnerable, and vulnerability is death."
The curse lifted, leaving you gasping for breath, your body trembling violently. You felt Mattheo’s arms around you, holding you close, his hands shaking as he tried to comfort you.
"I’m sorry," he whispered, his voice broken. "I’m so sorry…"
But Voldemort wasn’t finished. He stepped closer, his wand still raised, his eyes gleaming with malice. "You have a choice to make, Mattheo. Join me, and she will be spared. Refuse, and watch her die."
Mattheo’s breath hitched, and you could feel his internal struggle, the war raging inside him. He looked down at you, his eyes filled with pain, and you knew what he was thinking. If he joined Voldemort, he would be lost forever, consumed by the same darkness that had taken his father. But if he refused, you would pay the price.
"No," you whispered, your voice weak but determined. "Don’t do it, Mattheo. Don’t let him control you."
Tears welled up in his eyes as he cradled your face in his hands. "I can’t lose you," he said, his voice cracking.
"You won’t," you said, forcing yourself to smile through the pain. "We’ll find another way. We’ll fight this together."
But the decision was already made. Mattheo stood slowly, turning to face his father, his jaw set in a hard line. "I’ll join you," he said quietly, his voice filled with a bitter resolve. "But only if you spare her."
Voldemort’s smile widened, a cruel, triumphant expression that made your blood run cold. "Very well," he said, lowering his wand. "But remember, Mattheo, this is only the beginning. Love will not save you in the end. It will only destroy you."
With a flick of his wand, Voldemort disappeared into the shadows, leaving you and Mattheo alone in the tower, the echoes of his words lingering in the air.
Mattheo collapsed beside you, his face buried in his hands, his shoulders shaking with silent sobs. You reached out, your hand trembling as you gently touched his arm.
"It’s going to be okay," you whispered, though you weren’t sure if you were trying to convince him or yourself.
But deep down, you knew that nothing would ever be the same. The darkness had claimed a part of Mattheo, and you didn’t know if you would ever be able to bring him back from it. But you would try. You would fight for him, for the love that still burned between you, even in the face of the overwhelming darkness.
As you held each other in the cold, empty tower, you made a silent vow to yourself: you wouldn’t let Voldemort win. No matter what it took, you would find a way to save Mattheo, to bring him back to the light.
Because love might be a weakness, but it was also the strongest weapon you had.
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imaginingbleach · 4 months
Text
Forever your protector,
Word Count: 1,176
Requested: No, personally wanted to write angsty fluff using the phrases: My first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost. && I never realized how much I needed you until you weren't there.
Summary; You distance yourself from Ichigo in hopes your absence will go unnoticed when you're taken to Hueco Mundo... Ichigo's more perceptive than anyone gives him credit for and rescues both you and Orihime.
CW: implied that reader has been stalked by Aizen; kidnapped to Hueco Mundo; tiny confrontation with Uryu; Ichigo worrying; Ichigo is hurt but what else is new
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Tears streamed down your face as you ran over to him, the man who had come to your rescue despite everything...
You had known that Sosuke Aizen had planned to kidnap you at some point... It was not a matter of if but when.
You had accepted that fact long before it happened...
You had accepted that when you went to help Ichigo rescue Rukia that he would see you... And you already knew whatever he was planning was not good. As soon as he showed his true colors to everyone... you knew it was only a matter of time before he was going to come and find you.
When you returned to the World of the Living, you had said goodbye to Ichigo and his friends, and had made a silent vow to yourself. You didn't want to drag them into anything, so you would begin to distance yourself from the others.
You saw them less and less, you basically dropped off the face of the Earth... However, unlike Rukia, though, you didn't just suddenly disappear from their memories.
It came as no surprise to you when strange hollow like men came to take you. This was the first time you had met any arrancars, and likely the first time they had come over to the World of the Living. You had accepted that this was going to happen and that there was nothing you could do to fight against it.
Fate had a funny way of reminding you of what you had left behind... Orihime at some point had been brought to Hueco Mundo and that was when you knew Ichigo would come to save her.
How would you be able to explain to him just why you were here? What would he say?
... Would he give you that famous scowl and tell you how stupid you had been for running off on your own?
The thought made you giggle to yourself, but it made your heart ache...
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"The hell do you mean you haven't seen them since we got back?!" Ichigo growled as he gripped onto Uryū's shirt, leering down at him.
"I said they haven't been in class or clubs since we got back from the Soul Society. I don't have their number, so I can't contact them... I would think you would've heard from them, Ichigo."
"I..." His grip loosened as he began to think over the days since their return. He remembered saying goodbye to you... He remembered saying he would see you later... And... Then, what? His thoughts were racing through every face he had seen since then and none of them were yours. Not a single one.
"I gotta go," he spat out, letting go of the other's shirt and running off. He had to see you. How did he manage to let the days go past without noticing?! His jaw clenched, hands balling into fists and speeding up into a sprint towards your home. You were okay... You had to be okay.
The thoughts of you being hurt or dead made his chest ache and only made him go faster. Once he arrived, he quickly searched for the spare key you had. In his haste, he nearly dropped it before managing to get it into the key hole and slam open the door. He called out your name, looking everywhere within your home.
He was just overreacting, right? You would be in your room, curled up with your computer or a book and peek your head up at him... Looking confused why he sounded so frantic... Right? You had to. His hand shook as he reached for the doorknob of your bedroom, twisting it and pushing the door open.
But you weren't there.
His lower lip trembled as he looked around your room. The bed was made and honestly it looked like no one had been in there for... Well, it definitely looked like you hadn't been home much since your return. He gritted his teeth and slammed the side of his fist into the door frame.
"Damnit!"
Unfortunately, he didn't have time to even begin thinking about where you could be or what could have happened to you... The arrancars soon came down and he was thoroughly defeated. Then they came back and took Orihime with them.
As he was preparing to head to Hueco Mundo to rescue Orihime, something hit him. He remembered his conversation with Grimmjow during their last interaction.
"Hah! You're so dense, Kurosaki! All these people and none of you even noticed we've already taken one of your pals!"
His eyes grew wide at the realization, feeling like he was hit with a train.
"He wasn't talking about Orihime! Son of a-"
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"You're such an idiot, Ichigo! You didn't have to do that," you sobbed out as you fell into the sands before him. He had gotten badly hurt during his fights... And naturally you blamed yourself.
"Heh, but I did... My first instinct is to protect you, no matter the cost." He explained, smiling up at you as Orihime began to heal him.
"That's stupid and you know it!" You whined out in protest, feeling a bit better now that he was starting to get healed. "I'm not-"
"Hey, none of that. You are such an important person in my life," he spoke softly and reached up to wipe your tears away. "I never realized how much I needed you until you weren't there..."
"D... Don't say weird stuff like that!" You huffed, cheeks growing warm with embarrassment. Despite that, you never tried to move his hand from your cheek.
"I mean it... It took me way too long, but, I love you."
"Y-... You're just dizzy from blood loss! Stop saying weird things when you're so hurt!" You could feel the steam coming out of your ears, heart racing and trying to turn situation to have less of a focus on yourself.
"Hey! I am not! I've been thinking about this since the day I realized you were gone! It's taken me way too long to realize it, but you know me... I'm not always the best with these sorts of things. I'm just happy I can see you again and tell you how I feel."
Before you had a chance to say anything, he had gently pulled you forward until your lips met with his. It was gentle and sweet and left you absolutely breathless. When he pulled back, forehead resting against yours and his hand still cupping your cheek, you felt a soft sigh leave your lips.
"You're so stupid... and reckless... and I love you too, Ichigo."
"Great, wanna go on a date after we defeat Aizen?"
He stared at you with a confused look for a moment, watching as you just began to laugh at his silliness. His expression soon changed to a soft smile, knowing just how ridiculous he was being. It was the first time in a while he had gotten to see your smile... so he didn't mind you laughing at him.
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yanderestarangel · 8 months
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TW: mention dysphoria, v!sex, overstimulation, praise, ftm reader, smut.
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Just thinking about Bi Han helping his boyfriend, after he said he was dysphoric.
You were sad and horny, extremely needy, thinking about the grandmaster's muscles as you masturbated in the shower - sticking two fingers inside your pussy thinking about the length of his cock filling you to the base - with still hot tears running down your cheek.
He had been on call with you for hours on end, to help you feel better and promised to return home as quickly as possible just to keep you company. However, you didn't even notice the presence of your boyfriend arriving in the bathroom stall, smiling dominantly as he easily trapped you with his cold arms, placing you against his body.
His blue clothes were now soaked with water from the shower, but he didn't even care about that, whispering his cold breath in your ear as he brought two fingers to your clit, rubbing it hard, to the point that you squirmed and whine.
"-You know dear... I know you're insecure when you get dysphoria. But damn, the only thing I see in front of me is a fucking beautiful man." he grunted against your skin, watching you squirm from the deliciously painful massage that his thick fingers applied copiously to your wetness.
He lifted you against the wall of the room, placing you with your legs wrapped around his waist, awkwardly taking off the black pants he was wearing to expose his cock, already thick and dripping with pre-cum from the reddened tip, while he aimed at your aching pussy, sliding his throbbing length up your velvety walls - letting out a satisfied moan looking straight into your eyes, stripping away all the resilient dominance there was love and concern in his soul, he wanted to make sure you were okay, that you saw yourself as he saw you, as the strong man that you were.
"-Look at me boy, look into my eyes, look at how you make me lose control, I love how you're such a beautiful boy as you squeeze that perfect pussy on my dick... Oh fuck- yes, just like that... Take my dick like a champ I know you can handle it."
Bi Han thrusts his dick even deeper, hitting your G-spot in the process, his hands squeezed your hips as he sped up even more, your two voices echoed in the small space of the bathroom, raw and hungry kisses were exchanged between the two of you - with even the older man biting your lower lip in the process in a provocative manner, smiling as he looks down and sees your cunt drooling on his cock spreading your juices all over his crotch.
"-I'm not going to stop fucking you until you admit that you're my handsome man... So you better start screaming my sweet boy, otherwise I'm going to have to fuck all your pretty holes." the cyromancer spoke with conviction, cumming in your pussy, but continuing the relentless rhythm forming a beautiful white halo of his cum at the base of his cock, sliding down his balls - you knew he wouldn't stop until you were a trembling vision and messy, admitting your true worth... It would be a long night.
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𝒂𝒍𝒍 𝒓𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕𝒔 𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒆𝒓𝒗𝒆𝒅 ©𝒚𝒂𝒏𝒅𝒆𝒓𝒆𝒔𝒕𝒂𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒈𝒆𝒍 2024. 𝒅𝒐 𝒏𝒐𝒕 𝒄𝒐𝒑𝒚, 𝒓𝒆𝒑𝒐𝒔𝒕 𝒐𝒓 𝒕𝒓𝒂𝒏𝒔𝒍𝒂𝒕𝒆.
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coryoskywalker · 10 months
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History (Young! Coriolanus Snow x Reader)
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Description: Maybe you should’ve taken the risk. Perhaps things would’ve been different….
You and Coriolanus have been friends since the age of six. There was a moment between you two that she couldn’t forget. It was after the war when Y/n spotted young Coriolanus walking around the Capitol, presumably searching for food. Being the kind soul she was, Y/n took a piece of bread from her basket and offered it to him. Despite Coriolanus's initial stubbornness, he eventually accepted the bread, forever thankful.
From that moment, both Coriolanus and Y/n knew they would become great friends, or perhaps something more. It wasn't until they became adults, in their last year at the academy, that Coriolanus faced a crucial day. Winning the plinth prize was his only chance to save his family from starvation and secure a worry-free university education.
Y/n, aware of Coriolanus's home situation, always told him to come to her if he needed anything. However, he, driven by guilt and a high ego, consistently refused her help. When the day of the plinth prize announcement arrived, Dr. Gaul changed the rules, making each of the 24 students a mentor and allocating them to a tribute.
Y/n, the saint she is, panicked when she got the young girl named Wovey, knowing the girl didn’t stand a chance, breaking her heart. It wasn’t until Coriolanus softly grasped her hand and reassured her that everything would be fine. As time passed, Coriolanus still didn’t have a tribute. He knew High Bottom purposely gave him a girl from District 12, Lucygray, to secure his downfall. An interesting tribute, Y/n admitted, especially the moment the girl started singing and swearing on live television.
Y/n looked at Coriolanus as the scene played out. He had a stern look, and what she assumed was admiration, a look she had never seen him have—at least not directed towards her. From that moment, Y/n knew Lucygray would be the downfall of her and that Coriolanus could have been.
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“Coriolanus do you love her? Do you love lucygray?” Y/n whispered to him. It was mid way during the hunger games.
Coriolanus looked guiltily at Y/n, unable to meet her gaze. "I... I have feelings for her," he muttered faintly, without even looking at her. Y/n had noticed Coriolanus's unusual behavior — his inability to sleep, his loss of appetite, and his lack of social interaction. She couldn't figure out what had changed, but now, she knows the answer. Coriolanus felt an unexpected affection toward LucyGray. He was deeply ashamed of it, but he couldn't deny it. He looked at Y/n painfully, yet with determination.
"I'm sorry," he said, his voice breaking with emotion. "I don't know when it started... I have no idea how to explain it. All I know is this: I love Lucy, and I want to win the Games for her." Y/n was stunned. She had known that Coriolanus felt something for the District 12 tribute, but she didn't expect him to put his feelings into words so soon. It was as if he had forgotten about her completely, as if he no longer cared about their shared time together. Her heart ached with pain.
"Y/n..." He looked stared at you. "Lucy... my Lucy... deserves happiness. She deserves to know what love is. She deserves a shot at a future. And I will give it to her. But that doesn't mean I haven't felt things for you. It's just... You... you and me... it's not as simple."
“I understand,” was all you replied. He had always been honest about his feelings, but it was not the answer you were expecting. You were hurt to find you had been reduced to ‘too complicated’ when you thought of him as the perfect complement. But you knew you could never be that simple, with all your duties and expectations. As much as it pained you, you could understand why he had chosen another girl. He would never have to worry about her, to question her motives or her honesty. She would be loyal and good, with no strings attached.
“Is it easier with her?” You questioned him. You were confused and doubtful. How could being an outsider from the Capitol be easy? You refused to believe him.
“Yes,” he was honest with you. No reason to hide the truth. “She’s... simpler than you. Easier to understand. She’s honest and good and pure. But our path in the Games is not that simple. And you... You’re complicated too. I’m aware of our status. I know I’m bound by duty while you’re… free in comparison.” He spoke pushing a piece of fallen hair.
Y/n stepped back, keeping a short distance between herself and Coriolanus as her heart shattered to pieces. She couldn't believe the man she loved... the man she had spent years thinking also felt the same way for her had betrayed her like this. She was lost for words and the only thing which came out of her was an uneasy breath and tears flowing down her angelic face.
"So everything was a lie, Coriolanus?" Y/n whispered, her voice shaky and broken. "Everything we admitted to each other throughout the years was a humorous joke to you?".
Coriolanus stood there, strong and proud even though the words he was speaking were breaking her heart. He said without shame, without hesitation, "Yes."
Seeing the heartbreak on her face, he softened his tone and spoke as gently as he could despite the situation. "I'm sorry. I'm truly sorry. I do care for you... it's just..."
He searched for words, and then stopped. His jaw clenched... there was nothing he could say. So he just stood there, trying really hard not to look away as her tears poured.
Y/n felt her heart break into pieces when she heard Coriolanus speak those words. She had no idea that her feelings for him were not reciprocated all this time. Coriolanus had been honest with her, but at what cost? She felt betrayed and hurt beyond measure, and the only thing she could do was let out a painful cry. Y/n could not believe that her and Coriolanus's relationship was now over. She felt like a piece of her heart was missing and she didn't know how she would ever recover from this heartache.
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As y/n lay curled up on the forest floor, she took a deep breath, taking in the tranquil atmosphere. Coriolanus's arm was wrapped around her, his breath gentle and slow against her cheek. They had found refuge from their busy schedule under this old tree, and for now, nothing else mattered to them but each other. The day's worries melted away, the stress of work and deadlines no more than a distant memory.
"What do you see in your future?" Coriolanus asked casually, brushing her hair away from her face as he looked down at her.
"Huh? Oh...my future..." y/n mused, blinking slowly. She thought for a moment, her mind wandering back to the dreams and ambitions she held when she was younger. But something changed as she grew older, and she started to feel as if those fantasies were becoming increasingly unrealistic, to the point where she no longer believed them possible. "I'm not sure anymore."
"Why not?" Coriolanus pressed, shifting so her head was now nestled on his lap. The gentle rustling of the leaves in the trees above seemed to drown out their conversation, providing them with a sense of seclusion.
"I used to dream about becoming a scientist. Or becoming a journalist. But after a while, I began to realize that the odds of that happening were next to zero. So, I settled with less..." y/n trailed off, feeling her voice waver slightly.
Coriolanus reached up to stroke her cheek, the sound of his own voice now soft and subdued. "Maybe you're not giving yourself enough credit, y/n. You're smart and capable; you can do anything you set your mind to."
"Maybe..." y/n mumbled, leaning into Coriolanus's touch. But her uncertainty remained, her voice a whisper as she spoke. Even her best friend, the boy who had supported her throughout all her life's ups and downs, believed in her more than she believed in herself.
Coriolanus seemed to notice a hint of sadness in y/n's voice and his gaze met hers, his expression one of concern. Y/n tried to hide it, but was it really that easy for people to see through her defenses?
Coriolanus studied y/n closely, his hand moving up to her cheek and gently turning her face so that their eyes met. Y/n's heart skipped a beat as she felt the warmth of his touch and her gaze quickly flitted away. After everything they'd been through, she should have been used to these moments where he looked at her with such tenderness, but it still made her cheeks flush and her blood run cold. She wondered whether he was thinking the same thing as her...and if maybe this moment was about to become something more...
Y/n felt the weight of the world melt away as Coriolanus leaned in and brushed his lips against hers, so gently and sweetly that it felt more like a whisper than a kiss. Her eyes remained shut, her heart pounding in her ears as she savored the sensations of Coriolanus's arms around her and their bodies pressed against each other, a perfect moment of intimacy. Y/n parted her lips slightly, and Coriolanus's kiss deepened as he wrapped his arms around her. The warmth in her stomach grew, her breaths coming in rapid gasps.
Y/n felt a jolt of electricity run through her body as her heart pounded harder in her chest. She had always known these feelings existed, but now they were suddenly given life as Coriolanus pressed himself closer to her, his hands brushing her hair away from her face and his breath catching in his throat. Y/n tried to hold back, but the kiss was so overwhelming that she let out a tiny whimper of surrender, her hands clutching at his shirt as their embrace became deeper and more meaningful.
Coriolanus was the first to pull away, his chest heaving as he lifted his head and stared down at her. Y/n couldn't breathe, her body still trembling from the sensations of the kiss.
"Y/n..." Coriolanus murmured, his fingers slowly brushing aside the dark locks that framed her face. His eyes were fixed on her lips as he studied her face closely, trying to determine whether she truly was as affected by their kiss as he was.
Y/n swallowed hard, unable to tear her eyes away from Coriolanus's face. How could their friendship ever be the same after a kiss like that? Yet, as she looked at him, she felt as if they were the only two people in the entire world, and that nothing else besides their feelings mattered at all.
She wanted to say something, ANYTHING to break the silence, but her thoughts were too clouded by the emotions coursing through her body, still reeling from the intensity of their kiss and every touch of his fingers on her skin.
Maybe if she broke the silence, maybe, just maybe things would’ve been different….
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jjkamochoso · 6 days
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Hii! I definitely don't wait for you to reopen your requests religiously. Anyways, could I request a Feitan x Female Reader again with the personality like all my previous requests where they return to the base after a mission and she's more tired than usual and mindlessly starts ranting to him. They're probably rooming together wherever the troupe is staying this time around and she's just going through her usual night routine while he sits and watches and she slips in how much more comfortable she is around him than anyone else. Just something sweet and simple about how he's her comfort place! Thank you for your time!! ♡
You always have the cutest requests😭🫶❤️ sorry this took a little bit longer than usual but I thank you for your patience and never ending support!! I hope you love this☺️
Mission: Impossibly Handsome
Fluff
Feitan Portor x female reader
Warnings: none
Your entire body ached as you climbed into the backseat of the getaway car that was waiting for you at the curb, courtesy of Phinks. Your energy was absolutely depleted after the Phantom Troupe's mission that had just finished. Your enemies were formidable opponents this time and your nen abilities were really being pushed to the max up until the final battle. Of course, you and your teammates proved victorious at the end, but the whole ordeal had left you totally exhausted.
"You feeling alright?"
You didn't register that the question was for you until Phinks called out again.
"Y/n? You good?"
"Huh? Yeah, I'm okay. Just a bit tired, is all."
You gave him your signature sweet smile to ease his worries which seemed to work since he nodded in understanding and struck up a conversation with Shalnark who was in the passenger seat. As you laid your head against the window and watched the landscape fly past you from the car that was going much faster than the posted speed limit, you sighed, missing the presence of your favorite person. Feitan wasn't assigned to this mission and your irritation at his absence increased tenfold when you thought about how nice it would be to rest your body against his. Knowing you had a long trip back to the base, you closed your eyes as the roar of the car engine lulled you into a dreamless sleep.
When you felt the car roll to a stop, you knew you had made it back to the house that was currently serving as your base. You bounded out of the vehicle without hesitation, barely noticing how the sky had erupted with endless amounts of stars in the time it had taken your team to go back home. It seemed as if the place had been abandoned with the way all of the lights were off and not a soul was to be found. You checked your phone and noticed the time: 3:37 am; that explained why everyone was quiet. You frowned, putting the phone back in your purse and trudging up the stairs to your room. You opened the door and couldn't help the small smile that appeared when you saw that Feitan was still awake, reading by candlelight in your shared room. He looked so peaceful and handsome with his nose buried in a book and you hoped that image of him would be burned in your mind forever.
"What took so long?" he asked, setting the book on the side table.
"We were really far away and unfortunately up against good fighters," you said, closing the door and starting to take off your shoes. You wobbled a bit as you unbuckled the second one, earning a look of concern from the man.
"You hurt?"
"No. Just worn out," you responded, finally out of your shoes and thankful that you wore socks as your feet touched the cold ground. Feitan watched you in silence as you walked about the room, gathering your things from your bag as you laid out everything you needed in your nightly routine. You were so not in the mood to do all of your skincare, but you knew it would help relax you before bed and you needed all the help with that you could get after such a tumultuous day.
"Turn around, please. I'm changing into my pajamas."
Feitan obliged, covering his eyes with his hands for good measure. That made you giggle for the first time all day and you were grateful for the calming effect Feitan had on you by just being himself.
"You look tired," he commented after you had told him he could turn back around.
"There are certain things you don't say to women, Feitan, and that's on the top of the list," you replied in a huff, putting your plush headband on and going into the bathroom across the hall to wash your face. To your surprise, Feitan followed you in there.
He handed you your washcloth to dry your face. "I no mean to offend."
You took the cloth from him and gently dabbed at your skin, not meeting his curious eyes.
"I know. I'm sorry for being snappy, I...had a really hard day."
You both left the bathroom and sat on the bed to apply the rest of your products and Feitan sat across from you, observing you under his intense gaze. You picked up each bottle and sighed in a defeated sort of way that was so out of the ordinary for you that it actually had him worried. You, however, were starting to feel more and more at ease the longer you were in company of the raven haired man in front of you.
"Everything started going wrong this morning," you finally spoke, piquing Feitan's interest since he knew you would dive into what had been bothering you. "My first pair of shoes I was going to wear broke and then I was almost late since my hair wasn't going the way I wanted it to. And don't even get me started on the huge fight. That was the absolute worst because..."
You continued on and on, your venting session seemingly never ceasing. The more you talked, the less weight was on your shoulders and Feitan noticed how you were were looking happier and more relaxed than when you first came back, which, in turn, made him a lot more at ease knowing you were okay.
"...and so I'm just purely exhausted after all of that. I've never been on a mission so physically and mentally taxing. I'm ready for a break," you told him at the end of your mindless rant, your nightly routine long finished. Everything seemed less daunting when Feitan was around; you barely noticed yourself going through the motions of your various skincare steps that you previously thought to be an impossible task.
"I was so relieved when I learned we were rooming together again," you added as you put all of your things away before succumbing to sleep. "You're the person I feel most comfortable around and I really like spending my time with you. I appreciate you listening to all of my complaining and I'm grateful that we're in each others' lives. Sorry to get all sappy, but I just thought I should tell you that. I don't say it as often as I should."
Feitan was grateful for two more things: that your back was to him and that the room was so dark that you couldn't see the blush he was sporting and probably would be for the rest of the night. You expected to hear lots of teasing for your emotionally charged words but all you got in return from Feitan was a tiny scoff. You smiled to yourself, knowing he took what you said to heart, even if he wouldn't admit it to you (or himself) that he felt the same way about you.
"I glad you okay after mission. You rest now," Feitan eventually said, pulling back the bed's covers for you to get comfy under. He was not a caretaker in any sense of the word so you enjoyed being at the receiving end of his shockingly sweet actions--maybe this was how he was showing you that he was most comfortable around you too. No matter the reason, you easily complied with his wishes as you slid under the sheets, more than ready to get restful sleep next to Feitan. He got comfortable on top of the sheets, sitting up with his back against the headboard as he dived back into his previously discarded book.
"Fei," you whispered a few minutes later.
"Hmm?" he questioned, his eyes not leaving the worn out pages.
"I missed you a lot today," you confessed, your tired, sleep deprived mind letting your mouth run wild without inhibition. You snuggled closer to him in your shared bed, wanting to be as near to the man you loved as possible. "We make a great team. I never want to do anything without you again."
Feitan froze when he felt your cheek rest against the side of his thigh. Judging by your steady breaths, you were now either asleep or close to it, and waking you up to move at that point was much too cruel, even for him. He was unsure how to react in that sort of situation, but he'd be lying if he said he wasn't enjoying the sight and feeling of you touching him so gently. The sensation tugging at his heartstrings was so very new, and so very foreign, and he didn't know why but he never wanted it to stop. He cautiously brought his pale hand down to your other cheek, a featherlight finger barely caressing your skin.
"I go nowhere unless it with you. I promise."
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phr3ia · 3 months
Text
Resonance (Jiyan x Fem!Reader x Calcharo) [Chapter 1 : Drained]
How long has he been awake?
Jiyan wasn't entirely sure. The days had started to blend into one another after the most recent set of battles, with Tacet Discord outbreaks happening more and more frequently. Every day was another day of fighting, of trying his hardest to make sure every one of his fellow Rangers made it through the day and had another day where they might be able to get home.
...Some days though, even his best efforts were for nothing.
This was one of those days.
He fought fiercely, trying to keep the majority of the TD away from his subordinates. But one of them - a brave, foolish soul who had seen an enemy approaching Jiyan's back - had tried to intervene.
Jiyan didn't notice until he'd heard the choked cry behind his back. But when he'd turned back and saw them crumple, eyes blank...he lost his head a bit.
The next thing he was aware of, the TD were gone, and his subordinates were staring at him with a mix of awe and fear. His Tacet Mark was throbbing, and he was dimly aware of the way his entire body shook with an energy he needed to contain.
"Go back to camp." He'd ordered, all of them scrambling at the chance to return to camp, to rest and try to forget the image of Jiyan's rampage that he was sure was imprinted in their eyes. And Jiyan...had stayed in the valley, channeling the excess energy thrumming under his skin into killing even the smallest TD that crossed his path.
Now he was trudging back to his tent - exhausted, heart-sore, and numb. But upon entering his tent, he stilled, eyes immediately locking onto yours sitting on the edge of his bed.
"...Hey.." Jiyan greeted politely, his voice tired but courteous. "What brings you to my quarters?"
"I heard about what happened." you said, your tone was sad yet filled with understanding. Despite your gloomy demeanor, you were keenly aware of the struggles Jiyan faced each day and the toll it was taking on him. Although you had known each other since childhood, the word "best friend" was never explicitly mentioned between the two of you. However, the undeniable bond you shared spoke volumes beyond mere words. Both of you grew up side by side, chasing dreams together. After graduating from the Military Academy a decade ago, you rarely had the chance to see each other, unless under special circumstances.
As Jiyan ascended to the role of General, leading thousands of soldiers under his command, you became the Secretary Of Justice in Huang Long. You administer the government's criminal justice system by investigating crimes, prosecuting offenders and overseeing the correctional system. A position you earned through your undeniable intellect.
Upon noticing your melancholic behavior, Jiyan immediately sensed that something was amiss. He has always known you as a cheerful and carefree woman, who maintains an optimistic outlook on everything. It was unusual for him to see you behaving so strangely, as if you were miserable. However, Jiyan refrained from pressing you for details, knowing that your poorly-lit behavior may be related to your job, Jiyan acknowledged that the workings within the Department of Justice are private matters that he needs to respect.
"It was our first casualty this year, and I- I'm not sure I handled it well..." His voice was heavy, as he slowly came to sit in front ofyou. He could feel his chest tightening, and he looked away. "I don't know if I'm fit to lead them. Losing a soldier under my watch, I felt... I felt like..." He shook his head.
You could see through every barrier, every lie he tried to bury himself within. He didn't try to hide it from you. He brought his hands up, his broad-fingered hands gripping his own Tacet Mark. He closed his eyes, "All I did was wield them as weapons." His breathing sped up, and Jiyan slowly opened his eyes. "I want to do better...for them, for the Rangers..For Huang Long.." His body ached all over, and he welcomed the touch of another's hand on him, a touch that was not healing but comforting. Jiyan needed it, now more than ever.
"Jiyan." you said, gently placing your hand above his. Your previously unhappy demeanor had faded. "The first rule of leadership is to save yourself for the big decision. Don't let your mind get cluttered. I know you're always doing your best for Huang Long. Whatever you do, don't lose yourself in the process. I hope you would care enough for yourself to know that you deserve to receive as much as you give." Your gentle smile reassured Jiyan, conveying a sense of comfort and hope with just that simple gesture.
Jiyan inhaled sharply, closing his eyes, and leaned forward, his forehead resting against your shoulders. His breathing seemed to steady, his heart slowing, and he whispered, "Thank you, Y/N..."
He wasn't sure how long it took for him to feel the world slowly coming back into focus. But when Jiyan finally pulled back, he was a bit steadier, eyebrow furrowing as he glanced at the map that was folded on his table.
"I know we should call it a day, but...Tacet Discord activity is off the charts...I need to at least examine the map, make sure the strategic points are still secured..." He admitted. "And that we have enough reserve forces to rotate out. My mind won't rest until it's done, and besides..." Jiyan frowned, "I have to appear in control, or else the rest of the Rangers will lose heart. And I need to, I need to manage, I can't-" He stopped, fingers tightening around his hilt. "Just...give me a moment, and then I promise that I'll rest." He didn't want to overwork himself, but it was their lives at stake. He couldn't afford to let them down.
"Is there anything I can help you with?" you asked. Having previously been a member of the Military Defense Team under General Geshu Lin's command, your expertise and experience were invaluable.
Jiyan opened the map and spread it flat on the table. He took in the details, lips pursed in thought, as he mentally compared the map with the TD activity the Resonators had reported. It was a never-ending task, protecting the borders of Huang Long. Jiyan turned back to you, a wry smile tugging at the corner of his lips. "You could give me your unbiased opinion, like always. Keep me from potentially running myself into the ground."
"You can look over my records, reports, and see if there's any new information on the Tacet Discord's movements, that'd help a lot." He gestured towards the papers on the table. "I don't trust every piece of information at face value. A second set of eyes can't hurt. With that, Jiyan returned to his map, eyes scanning the depiction of Jinzhou and its surroundings. His fingers continued to lightly trace lines in the map, considering different strategies to deal with the outbreaks. Jiyan's carefully constructed calm shattered for a moment when he noticed a freshly marked TD hotspot. "Damn..." He muttered, going back to the reports. Your presence, however, did help, and Jiyan's eyes flickered over to you. He wasn't sure if you would pick up on it, but Jiyan couldn't help the relief of having someone else to share the burden with.
"General. It's important that we pinpoint these areas, especially since the City Guards are stretched too thin as it is." You suggested as you attentively observed the placement of the TD marks on the area. As both of you  analyzed the map, Jiyan found himself relaxing a bit more. He'd always admired your sharp mind, and while you spoke, he found himself absentmindedly staring at you. "So, General, what do you think about my plan?" you abruptly asked, shifting your gaze towards him, which snapped him out of his trance.. Jiyan's cheeks warmed in embarrassment and he hastily looked away. He glanced back at the map, a frown creasing his features. "That's a solid plan. We need to move the Rearguard into sectors with the highest Tacet Discords. Some soldiers seems to have reported multiple sightings of TD moving in a particular formation, I want to explore that." Jiyan's voice trailed off in thought as he watched your expressions. "Though it'll be chaotic, but we can make a dent into some of these hotspots...There are some reinforcements camped out a bit south-east. I'll have to consider rotating these additional soldiers in...and perhaps get some fresh supplies to the current Rangers." Jiyan stretched his arms, eyes squinting a bit. "Once we do that, and the replacements are settled in, I think I'll be able to relax." It was said lightly, but Jiyan was acutely aware of how heavy his eyelids were. He glanced back at you, his eyes softened appreciatively. "Your input has helped ease the weight. I'm grateful for it, truly."
"Ha! Admit it, I'm better than you." you teased with a smirk, your arms crossed over your chest as you chuckled.
"Not a chance." The General replied with a light laugh, shaking his head in disagreement.
Jiyan stood, stretching his back to alleviate some of the muscle pains that had settled after his recent battle. He'd need the sleep, but he grabbed a small box from his desk, rummaged through it, drawing a tea bag to the table. "Tea?"
"Absolutely." You replied with a warm smile.
And the rest of the night was filled with conversations that brought smiles to your faces.
[2 hours later...]
"Thank you, General. I had fun!" With midnight approaching, you knew that Jiyan needed to rest.
"Hey, would you mind if I visit you in Jinzhou the day after tomorrow?" Jiyan inquired, hoping for you to say yes. It had been a while since he had a normal conversation with you, and he honestly missed those times when he could just be himself. Not as a soldier, not as a general, but simply as Jiyan.
"Of course." You both value and respect each other's work schedules. You and Jiyan acknowledged that both of you couldn't spend as much time together as you used to when you were younger.
"Anyway, I should head off. It's getting late, and you can't hide that tired look of yours anymore." you chuckled, pinching the General's cheek. "Hey, cut it out!" he playfully pushed your hand away, feeling a twinge of embarrassment that you still teased him like the short and shy boy he once was.
In return, Jiyan tousled your hair as he wrapped his arm around your neck, restraining your movements.
"Alright! Alright! You win!" you surrendered, dropping your arms in defeat. Jiyan was now too tall for you to reach. "What's that?" Jiyan teased. He seldom heard you admit defeat, so hearing you say this was like music to his ears. You couldn't help but just roll your eyes at him as you freed yourself from his arm.
"Would you like me to accompany you back to Jinzhou?" He was concerned about you returning late at night with only a few soldiers escorting you.
"No need. I can take care of myself." you replied confidently. There was no need for you to prove yourself, as you were also known for mastering the element of fusion and handling it like a crazy maniac. However, at times, your overconfidence can lead to distractions, which is one of your downfalls.
"Oy, you keep forgetting the huge gap in our strength. You can't rely on going into a rampage to defend yourself. It's not the best approach." Jiyan remarked, aware of your occasional recklessness.
"Whatever you say, General." you sighed, rising from your seat. "Stubborn as always." Jiyan mumbled quietly as he escorted you out of his quarters.
"Goodnight, General." you bid farewell as you closed the door behind you. "Until then, Madam Secretary." Jiyan headed back to his bed, the slow exhaustion catching up with him. His armor had been stripped to reveal his elegantly toned body, sleek and unfaltering. He'd need to rest, he'd need to heal, just a bit more. He started to undress, shelving his armor. Jiyan laid down, the weight of the day finally catching up with him, and the soft snores filled the room sometime later. He was finally drowning in the comforting embrace of unconsciousness.
•┈••✦ ❤ ✦••┈•
End Of Chapter 1 🥀...
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Who would you choose in a world where love and duty collided, and where the heart's desires clashed with the demands of fate? The unspoken love of Jiyan, who has known you since childhood, or the fiery passion that Calcharo harbors for you, despite the shadows of his past?
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coffeecat1983 · 3 months
Note
Hello! Hope it's okay if I send you a suggestion for the drabble game 🥰 I was thinking, how about 10 "I'm right here, okay?" for Mario and Luigi? No rush of course! 💖
A pleasure, my friend! I hope you enjoy.
Prompt #10 "I'm right here, okay?" (set in the Mario movie-verse, 2023)
   The apartment door swung open and Mario shuffled in with a groan. Despite his aches, he smiled when he heard his mother singing along to the radio as she made dinner. Hearing him, Marianna came out, a warm smile greeting her son.      "Hi sweetheart," she kissed his cheek before noting how exhausted he looked. "Bad day at work?"    He slid the toolbox off his shoulder. "Just a long one. Really could have used some help today." he said softly.      "Well get cleaned up and come eat, dinner's almost ready." she said, returning to the kitchen. Mario went to wash up and change. As he entered the bedroom, something felt off but he couldn't place what it was. Returning to the dining room the feeling increased as he took his seat.    Dinner was quiet, just him, his parents, and grandfather. Talk was light until Giovanni asked how work went.      "It was lousy, had to pull a lot of old pipes out from the floor. Thankfully the bathtub had already been taken out." Mario said, picking idly at his plate. He glanced at the chair beside him. "Big jobs like that will be easier once Lu gets back."    Giovanni froze, fork halfway to his mouth. Placing it back down he cleared his throat.      "Ah, Mario..." he stopped as Marianna touched his arm, a barely perceptible shake of the head making him change his mind.      "I mean, you're right, son. It's been a long day. Why don't you take tomorrow off, get some rest?"    Considering this, Mario gave in. "Yeah, yeah I think I will. I'm not very hungry tonight." He went to stand. "Sorry, Ma."      "It's all right, sweetheart."      He didn't notice the worried looks from his family as he made his way back to the bedroom. Going over and turning on his bedside light, he rubbed at his head.      "Really can't wait for Lu to..." he turned and letting out a small cry, fell back.    Hurried footsteps raced down the hall, Marianna bursting into the room with Giovanni right behind her.      "M-Ma?" Mario pointed, hand shaking as she kneeled beside him. "Where... Lu's bed, where's his bed?!"    He stared with horror at the empty spot. All that was there now was a table set up with some of Luigi's things with a framed photo in the center.    Mario's heart twisted as he realized it was a shrine.      "Mario," Marianna put her arms around him, "he's been gone for a year now." she said gently.    Memories that he kept pushing back came flooding forth.      A melted cage.     His brother hanging on.    Racing to reach him as he fell.    The scream that pierced his very soul.    The scream that echoed in his dreams night after night.      "No...I couldn't... I tried, Ma, I tried!" he broke, his body shaking as everything came back. Clinging to his parents, he threw his head back with a sob.      "Luigi!"
     "Mario, Mario, wake up..." The nightmare shattered around him. Waking, Mario gasped wildly as he struggled to sit up, shoving his blankets off in a panic. Hands grabbed his own, tired blue eyes that matched his watching him with worry.      "It's okay, it was just a dream." the soft, rusty voice he loved so dearly wrapped around him, forcing back the waves of fear.      "L-Luigi?" he choked out. The nod was all he needed. He grabbed his twin, trembling as tears flowed.      "I dreamt I lost you! I wasn't fast enough, the lava, you f-fell." another sob shook him. Warm arms held him close, a tender kiss to his head.      "Shh, you didn't lose me.  I'm right here, okay?" Luigi soothed. "I'm not going anywhere. I promise."      "Mm'sorry." the exhausted apology was mumbled into his brother's shoulder as Mario slumped against him. Gently guiding him so he could turn, Luigi rested against the headboard with Mario snug against his chest. The gentle heartbeat provided a lullaby and Mario relaxed.      "Th'nks Lu." he mumbled again. "Love you."    A faint chuckle. "Love you too, big bro."
END
By "CC"
Drabble master list and game here
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aquagirl1978 · 1 year
Note
a story in which mc goes to the past and meets the child chevalier and the boy ends up having his heart stolen by belle
Anon, this fic has lived rent-free in my head for entirely too long. I hope you're still around to see this finally posted 😊
It Was You - Chevalier Michel x Reader (Ikemen Prince)
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A/N: Part of the Different Universe, Same Love Content Creation Challenge hosted by @xxsycamore and @queengiuliettafirstlady
Pairing: Chevalier Michel x Reader
Prompt: free day (i'm not exactly sure what kind of au this falls into - time traveling? soul mates? something?)
Tags: fluff
Word Count: 1674 (so long i included a word count)
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The skies were gray and the line was long as you stood and waited your turn, white rose in hand as  soft sobs and muffled whispers filled the air. Raindrops gently fell from the clouds, as if heaven, too, was mourning the loss of Rhodolite’s queen.
Two young boys stood in the distance, away from the crowds. And despite their distance, they somehow caught your eye. Your heart ached as you caught the sad expression on one of the boy’s faces; he must have been close to the queen and is grieving.
You tugged on the long sleeve of Mr. Akatsuki’s dark kimono, your wide eyes pleading. “Is it okay if I go see those boys over there? I’d like to offer my condolences.” Mr. Akatsuki turned and looked at the boys, noticing their elegant attire.
“Don’t stay long,” he replied.
“I won’t.” You turned to face the boys, the distance between you closer than you had initially thought.
As you approached the pair, their voices grew louder. 
“...from the books I’ve read. I thought I would feel something, even just a little bit, but –”
Your heart lurched; you were right, they were close with the queen.
The voices grew quieter and you couldn’t hear anything for a moment, but then you heard the same emotionless voice again.
“I realized this awhile ago, but somehow, I can only see things from a bird’s-eye point of view.”
Your heart ached hearing the young boy speak; he couldn’t be more than 10 years old. Such a young age to lose his mother. 
He must be hurting so much.
The boys, engrossed in their conversation, didn't even notice you approaching them.
“Hello?” you called out.
The two turned and looked at you. The boy with purple hair looked stunned, as if he had just heard a horrifying secret. 
The other boy, the one you had heard speaking earlier just stared at you silently, his ice blue eyes cold and emotionless.
“I’m sorry for interrupting, but I just wanted to offer my condolences…”
“It’s not necessary,” the boy with blonde hair replied, coldly dismissing you.
“Chev, please,” the other boy spoke up. “This young lady came all the way over here to offer you her sympathy. Don’t you think, as the queen’s son, you could just accept it and say thank you?”
Chev, as the boy with purple hair called him, narrowed his eyes, and looked as if he was refraining from scowling. 
“I have no need for her sympathy, Clavis. You should know that better than anyone.”
Clavis approached you, a smile plastered on his face, clearly covering his grief. “You’ll have to excuse Chev. He’s so overcome with sadness that he’s forgotten his manners.” He took your small hands in his. “Allow me to accept your sympathies, on behalf of the royal family. Thank you.”
Having done what you came for, there was no reason for you to stay and intrude on them no matter what your heart was telling you. Lifting your skirt, you curtseyed and said your goodbyes to the pair.
But as soon as you took one step away, you turned around and walked right up to Chev and wrapped your arms around him.
“What are you –?” he asked, his arms awkwardly pinned to his sides by your embrace. 
“You looked like you needed a hug. Everyone deserves to love and be loved. And you lost one who loved you.” Your eyes met his, his blue eyes wide and wild like those of a caged animal. “So I’m giving you a hug today.”
You remained in the embrace until he calmed down, his body relaxed somewhat and his blue eyes returned to their cold, emotionless state. After letting go, you took a step back, your gaze holding his.
“Prince Chev, I’m really sorry about your mother,” you whispered before turning around and walking away, not giving him the chance to dismiss you again.
Clavis stared at his brother, your figure growing smaller in the distance. He watched Chev watch you walk away, and thought he detected what could be considered a ghost of a smile gracing Chev’s lips.
*****
The bookstore had been empty all afternoon, to which you were grateful as it gave you the time to finish reading. When the bell chimed, announcing the arrival of a customer, you quickly put your book away, readying yourself to work.
The gentleman who entered was tall and lean, pale blonde hair framing a face carved from marble, bright blue eyes intense as he perused the books on the shelves. Dressed casually in a black turtleneck and trousers, you wondered to yourself if he worked at the university as a professor and that was what brought him to the bookstore today. 
As he walked around the store, you got this feeling that you knew this man from somewhere. Probably a past customer, you told yourself.
But you’d remember a man so handsome, wouldn’t you?
“Excuse me, is Mr. Akatsuki in?” he asked, his tone curt.
“No, he’s out this afternoon. Can I help you with something?” 
“Yes, perhaps you can, I had ordered a number of books from him and was told they should be here.” 
“What is your name so that I can look for your order?”
“Chevalier Michel…” His voice trailed off as he looked away, clearly not a fan of social interaction.
Definitely not a professor, you told yourself as you went into the back room where Mr. Akatsuki kept all the orders. It wasn’t hard to find the order – it was a large stack of romance novels. Only romance novels. In many different foreign languages. Impressed, you were stacking the books, double checking the list to make sure everything was there, when it hit you.
Chevalier Michel. The Second Prince of Rhodolite. The late queen’s only son.
Chev. The boy you hugged on that sad day so many years ago.
Despite all the years that had passed, for some reason, your heart remembered him when he walked through that door into the bookstore.
You put the books down, an attempt to catch your breath, somewhat relieved in knowing he would not remember you, so there would be no need for any awkward conversations about that day.
How you had wondered about that little boy you met that cold, gray day. You had heard the stories about Bloodstained Roses Day; you had heard of the prince they called the Brutal Beast. 
But for some reason, the man waiting in the other room did not seem brutal nor beast-like to you. To you, he was a boy who had just lost his mother. 
“Here you go,” you said as you returned with the books, placing the pile before him. “Feel free to check over them and make sure everything is in order.”
Your hands were still on the books when his hand darted out, his fingers encircling your wrist.
“Do you remember me?” he asked, his voice cold and emotionless, much like it was all those years ago.
Your eyes widened in shock. “You remember me? After all these years?” 
“I don’t forget a name or a face. Ever.”
“Oh,” you whispered, swearing you felt his thumb gently caress the inside of your wrist. You closed your eyes, wishing for a moment that he was a professor and not royalty.
“I don’t normally come in to pick the books up myself…”
A chill washed over you as he removed his hand from your wrist, knowing you’d likely never see him again.
“Thank you. For the books.” He gathered the books in his arms, and without as much as a smile, he turned and walked out of the store and your life.
“Royalty and commoners cannot mix,” he muttered to himself, more reminder than commentary, as he closed the door behind him, leaving you for good.
*****
“Do you have any questions?” 
You looked at Sariel, who was waiting for your answer. Your eyes flicked down to the voluminous contract placed before you; your eyes flicked up and found eight sets of eyes on you.
No, that would be incorrect. Seven sets of eyes stared at you, one set looked down at the table, his eyes not meeting yours the entire meeting.
Sariel sighed as he stood up. “If you have no more questions, you have a bit of reading to do now.”
“Belle,” he added, as if to remind you of the role you just accepted. 
You quietly waved goodbye to Sariel and the other princes as they all left the room.
All but one.
He made his way towards the door, as if he was leaving with the others. But he shut the door, his body pressed against it, blocking any entry as he glared at you.
“You.”
A chill ran down your spine as he spit the word out, his body seething with controlled anger.
“I didn’t ask for this task….” you tried to reason.
How were you going to spend 30 days in this castle – his home – with him this angry.
“Of all the people in all the towns of Rhodolite, they had to pick you.”
“You keep appearing in my life. Why?” When his eyes finally met yours, you felt sadness, not anger.
Your heart ached; pushing back your chair, you stood and walked over to Chevalier, placing your palm on his cheek. 
He bristled at your touch causing you to slowly withdraw your hand.
“Don’t,” he whispered. He let out a low sigh before continuing. “No one has ever touched me.”
“Except me…”
“Except you.” 
His hand found yours and he tugged you roughly, pulling you closer to him. You looked up at him, your heart pounding wildly in your chest, his pale blue eyes softening, shards of ice melting. 
“It was you, all these years it was you. It was always you.” His lips crashed against yours in a kiss you had both waited a lifetime for. Deepening the kiss, he wrapped his arms around you in an awkward embrace.
“It will always be you.”
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Tagging: @redheadkittys @alixennial @rhodolitesroseforclavis @kissmetwicekissmedeadly @chaosangel767 @queengiuliettafirstlady @queen-dahlia @ikehoe @ikemen-writer @talfollowingstuff @kpop-and-otome @kisara-16 @altairring @lucyw260 @lordsisterxotome @violettduchess @umi-adxhira @bellerose-arcana @yarnnerdally @crypticbibliophile @lancelotscloak @scorchieart @tele86 @nightfoxqueen @melodiousramblings @wendolrea @aceuuuuu @randonauticrap @aria-chikage
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kaorikarma · 1 year
Text
Let Your Soul Take Flight
Howard Phillips Lovecraft X Reader
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"I'm... starving.."
"Aren't you always?" You tsked, having been caring for him for several days. From the moment you saw him, emotionless and uncaring in a pouring rain shower, you knew he would be difficult; but you hadn't expected just how deeply odd he was.
He hummed, gazing at a wall with what you could only hope was some sort of thoughts processing in his brain.
"Most of the time." His head turned to look at you at an eerie, inhuman swivel while he answered, eyes blank and wide. You shivered a bit, something you hoped he didn't notice.
"Ok, well, let's go for a round three on taking care of that today. Let's try a buffet this time. I can't afford $300 in fast food again." You sighed, noting his doe-eyed expression. He didn't really seem to care if he drained your wallet; hell, he didn't even seem to fully grasp the concept of monetary value.
Feeding him had been a monumentous task. It was first on your list, since he looked frighteningly gaunt and emaciated, but nothing seemed to fill his stomach.
He constantly complained of being hungry, tired, and itchy, though no amount of sleep, food, or anti-itch cream sated him. He just stared at you with those blank, dead eyes.
There was something about him that made you decide to keep trying. He didnt seem to understand anything about society, and you were strongly worried for his well-being otherwise. At first, you had suspected mental health issues, his eccentricities ever-present to a degree of naiveté, but after the several days you'd spent trying and failing to care for him, you began to suspect some inhumanity present in him. His odd movements, insatiable needs, the way you discovered late last night that the cause of his consistent itching was your gaze, he seemed to you too strange to be human.
You plopped down in the chair in front of your bed, which he had promptly taken over before you could direct him to your couch, complaining all the while that the linens were giving him a rash. Head in hand, you watched his brows furrow with unease as you looked him in the eyes.
"You said mostly. So.. what's kept you full in the past, stranger?" He paused for a second.
"Mm... Call me Lovecraft." The words floated lazily off his tongue. He hadn't graced you with his name yet, though he knew yours.
Your eyebrows shot up with amusement. "Well that's certainly a step in the right direction..., Lovecraft. You starting to trust me now?" You chuckled a bit as he seemed to look regretful of the admission, turning to look away from you.
"Ugh...Yuck. My stomach aches when you call me by that name."
You openly face-palmed, albeit playfully.
"If that's your name, what else should I call you?"
He seemed to think for a moment.
"...How..ard..? No.. that doesn't feel right either.. Perhaps you should go back to calling me 'stranger'." He finished, crossing his arms with a deep frown.
"Howard? Hmm.. a bit old-fashioned, but I think it suits you well--" He gave you such a look of incredulous disgust that you sat, slack-jawed; you couldn't recall a single time he seemed to feel so strongly about anything.
"Absolutely not.. It feels too weird... ugh... no..no..." You watched as he pulled the blankets of your freshly made bed over his head, quite literally hiding under the covers, writhing a bit, like he'd been physically wounded by your attempt to call him by name.
Sighing once again, you stood up to pull the covers off his slender frame, but found that he tugged stronger than you could pull your fleecy bed-spread from him.
You sat next to him, dramatically flopping backwards until you were lying next to him, on top of the still-tucked in edge of the bedding.
"So your name must be Howard Lovecraft, huh?"
He made some sort of hissing sound and withdrew further under the blankets, curling into an ill-proportioned, too-leggy ball of a gangly, tall man.
"But you don't like either of those."
No hiss. A good sign.
"What about a nickname?" You looked over at the lump under the covers; had there been no linen divider, your noses could almost touch.
You swore you heard a low grumble in his throat. Not particularly a pleased sound, but it wasn't an aggressive 'no'.
You put a wary hand on where you thought the back of his head would be, feeling his breath catch and his body shiver with the unexpected sensation. He didn't pull away, like you'd thought he would. This was the one of the first times you'd been this close to him, and the first time you'd touched him, even if indirectly, through thick cotton.
You admonished the feeling, letting all the possibly nicknames for 'Howard' run through your head.
"What about... Howie?" You whispered to the ball next to you.
He growled again, this time more than pleased.
Not a man of many words, but as you smiled, happy with with yourself for finding something he liked, he emerged from the blankets, navy hair mussed, but looking overall content with his new namesake.
He reached out an touched the base of your head curiously, as you had done to him, light smile gracing his face.
"Perhaps..is this... affection, you displayed to me?" He asked quizzically, voice soft and slow with all the wonder of a dreaming child.
The moment was gentle, you thought, but you were having trouble focusing on his words with the deep, freezing chill the emanated from his fingertips, making your skin prickle with goosebumps.
You took the icy plunge and braced yourself for discomfort as you embraced him quickly and tightly, head resting in the crook of his neck.
He seemed confused and surprised, arms still where they were a moment ago, helplessly curled around the air.
"Yes, Howie. This is affection."
When his arms finally came down to awkwardly squeeze you, you realized this was the first time you had given him attention in which he responded well; no shivers of discomfort or anxious expressions in sight. He seemed to actually enjoy the embrace, freezing cold and trying to keep your teeth from chattering as you were.
You weren't sure how you'd not realized he was this cold before. Though you'd been staying decently far away from him, you thought that he would eminate this raw polar cold from a distance, yet you'd not felt a single change in the air until you were in his arms.
Though he'd relaxed and began deepening the embrace himself now, you had to pull away out of sheer discomfort, briefly looking down to see your bare skin blue and purple-tinged where you'd touched him for too long.
You hoped he didn't notice, although he looked disoriented after you'd broken the hug off so suddenly, looking a bit upset and ready to cling to you again, so you changed the topic with a gentle smile.
"You didn't answer my question earlier. What's kept you full in the past?" You repeated, knowing he'd already blanked on the question from minutes earlier.
He blinked for a moment, thoughts slowly returning to your prior conversation.
"I've not been full since I was a child. I ate copious amounts of crabs and fish, until I was sated for a few hours." At least he was more open to your probing questions now.
"Wow, your parents must have thought you a real challenge, huh?"
He looked down at you from his high perch with an unnerving gaze, not at all kindly and curious as it was a moment ago.
"I was capable of feeding myself. My parents had nothing to do with it."
"Oh.. ok, then."
You looked down at your feet, shuffling to the other side of the room before he took your hand, unexpectedly. A chill ran through your body, but his touch was so soft and pleading for you to look back at him, you didn't pull away.
"Am I too cold?" He asked, observing the way your fingers reddened in his grasp.
"A bit," you laughed lightheartedly, through half-chattering teeth.
He dropped his hand, ruffling through an inner pocket of his coat until he pulled out thick, woolen gloves.
Pulling them on, he took your hand again.
"Better?" You barely felt the chill of his hands this time. Smiling, you nodded at him.
"Let's go get lunch, Howie."
He let out a low, quiet laugh, accompanied by a near-impercievable smile, that barely reached your ears.
Maybe the third time would be the charm.
°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°•°
Note: Can be taken as a (long-before) prequel to 'Primal'. I want most of my Lovecraft stories to follow the same essential plot and lore I set up, so they shouldn't have many differences unless it's a request.
Thanks for reading!
June 5th, 2023
-Kaori
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Text
Summer painting
Warnings: Implied/referenced self-harm, references to depression only for those over 14 years of age, alternate universe - canon divergence, established relationship
Word count: 1.8 K
Pairing: Carol Aird x Fem!Reader
Prompt: Sometimes flowers rot in summer
Part three of winter painting
Requests: OPEN
[Main masterlist] [Carol masterlist]
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Y/N's chest was rising and falling rapidly, she felt a tightness in her chest that prevented her from breathing.
Her hands were moving, desperate for something to do.
The back of her neck was sweating, her stomach ached, her legs kept bouncing. Her eyes filled with tears.
She felt something stuck in her throat that made it impossible to get air in and out.
The place was spinning like a spiral. Her body felt heavy, as if at any moment it would give in to gravity. She was going to pass out from lack of oxygen… Until the phone rang. It was Carol. I knew it.
Y/N had been avoiding her, but he knew he couldn't do it anymore.
The last voicemail message warned that Carol would be stepping foot in the apartment any second.
She replied.
"Hello?"
"God, T/N, are you all right, I thought something bad had happened to you…"
She took a deep breath, she wasn't going to let the sadness creep down the phone cord to her.
"Yeah, I just…I have a lot of homework…Professor Brown is trying to fuck with me and…"
"Owww, my little working ant."
The heart was depressed, her voice trying to be as soft as possible, as if Carol thought her voice would embrace Y/N's tired soul , but in reality, it felt like stabs in Y/N's brain. over and over again bringing the memory back to her immediate memory.
"Maybe a break will make you feel better.
"What?
"A break…"
"Oh Carol, I can't afford that…"
"You will pay nothing."
Her throat closed. Y/N swallowed hard.
"… I wasn't talking about money. I don't have time…"
"Y/N, please…"
She closed her eyes tightly. She meditated for a few seconds.
She knew that Fred himself had taken a few days off to go see her grandmother, she could do it too.
"Okay…"
"Oh honey, it's going to be wonderful… Finish your work today and first thing tomorrow morning, I'll come pick you up."
"Okay…"
"Y/N?"
"Yes?"
"I love you."
The air escaped her lungs. It wasn't the first time Carol had said those three words, but, today they felt different. Full of inexplicable weight. But at the same time, as light as feathers dancing in the wind.
"I love you too."
"See you tomorrow."
"Yes…"
————————————————————————
Three distinctive knocks sounded on the door, causing Y/N to put aside the sketchbook, walk to the door and open it.
"Hello."
Something different could be noticed in Carol's eyes, Y/N could notice a lack of brightness in the blonde's eyes. They looked sad, dull, almost gone, as if she was not present in that astral plane.
But her cheeks were upturned in that characteristic smile.
The smile she only used for Y/N
But Carol's smile couldn't quite manage to flood her sea iris.
"Hello."
Y/N's corners turned up despite Carol's fake smile.
"Are you ready to go?" before Y/N could answer, Carol entered the younger girl's apartment so she could rummage through her small suitcase. She reached in and pulled out a palette of watercolors. The blonde chuckled. "Some watercolors, will there ever be a day when you don't carry something paint related?" the blonde joked, causing Y/N to smile and shake her head. Carol herself shook her head and reached up to kiss the crown of Y/N's head, "All you're missing is a bathing suit…"
Y/N felt her heart stop pumping, at least for a few seconds.
"A bathing suit?"
"Yes, at first I thought about not telling you, but…I didn't want you to get your clothes wet. So, better safe than sorry" Carol smiled.
Y/N feels the back of her neck begin to tingle, her esophagus begins to ache, her fingers drum on the door behind her back and her mouth begins to go dry.
"Is that really necessary?" stammers Y/N, "Because… I have to get back early. My anatomy teacher let me do a detailed drawing…"
"Ohh, come on Y/N" exclaimed Carol, as she herself opened one of Y/N's drawers and pulled out a bathing suit. She could tell it was old, and it had been a long time since Y/N had worn it. "Let me spoil you, pretty girl" She folded the bathing suit and stuffed it into Y/N's small suitcase along with a towel. "I promise we're going to have fun."
Y/N swallowed dryly, gave a fake smile and nodded.
"It's okay."
————————————————————————
When they reached the little hidden river that Carol had brought them to and noticed that it was indeed hidden and only the two of them would be there, it made Y/N's heart relax a little, but not enough when she saw Carol begin to take off her light clothing and get down to a beautiful bathing suit.
Y/N could tell that Carol was a vision, a goddess in front of her eyes.
With beautiful curves in her hips; large, smooth, unmarked thighs; toned arms full of tiny freckles; lightly tanned shoulders; and hair that looked like golden strands in the sunlight.
A part of Y/N was fully captivated, eyes spiraling around at the goddess in front of her.
But the other part of Y/N felt like she was becoming small, like a tiny little caterpillar next to a beautiful and elegant butterfly.
She was comparatively too thin to be considered beautiful, her mother always said she looked sickly; her thighs were thin, and full of scars and cuts; arms thin and full of dark hair; shoulders with visible bones, and brown hair that always looked like a bird's nest. She never knew how to style it.
What had Carol seen in her?
Before Y/N could continue self-pitying, Carol jumped into the water.
"Come on Y/N, the water is cool."
"Amm actually, I'd like to paint for a moment before… swimming."
Y/N could tell how Carol pouted a little, but quickly brushed it away.
"All right, have it your way."
And he walked away, to start swimming.
Y/N took out her small notebook and began with a sketch.
Carol's curves returned to her unconscious, and she began to capture them on paper so as not to forget.
A few minutes, or hours later, Y/N had forgotten what almost stopped her from going to that beautiful lake in the first place. And even more so when Y/N saw Carol emerge from the water, her skin a little red from the sun. She had no choice but to start laughing
"Carol… damn. You're red," the younger woman said with a chuckle.
"Don't make fun of me" Carol herself said with a chuckle. "I was silly enough to forget to put on sunscreen."
Y/N couldn't stop laughing.
"You look like a fucking shrimp."
Carol pouted a little.
"Don't tease, burn a little."
Y/N got up from the small blanket she had brought to lie on and pointed to Carol.
"Lie down, I'll put some cream on you."
Carol lay on her stomach and Y/N sat on her lower back. He pulled out a burn cream and began spreading it on Carol's back.
"Tell me if it hurts."
Carol moaned as she felt the cool cream touch her shoulders.
"It doesn't hurt. It feels good."
They both remained silent. Enjoying the sounds that nature could bring them, as if enjoying the intimate contact they could have, away from the constant prejudice that busy New York life brought.
A bubble of peace and love.
Until Carol spoke up.
"You haven't put on your bathing suit."
Y/N felt her heart stop again.
Carol stood up to turn and meet Y/N's eyes, forcing Y/N to stand up.
"I don't think I feel like swimming…"
Carol grunts.
"Please Y/N, it's summer, we're like 86°F, everyone wants to swim…"
Both were silent, until Carol reached up to try to lift Y/N's blouse, but Y/N quickly pulled back.
"Carol, no!"
And in a bold and sudden move, Carol lunged at Y/N knocking the young girl to the grass. Y/N did nothing but scream and kick.
————————————————————————
"Give me that"
"No!"
"Damn it Y/N, give me the doll."
"No, you always want to take my stuff!"
"Mom said you have to share…"
"What's going on here!"
As quickly as she could, Silvia, her sister, pulled herself off her and cowered in a corner, fearful.
"Nothing, daddy" replied the two girls.
But her father had already entered the room, noticing that Y/N was holding on to a small rag doll.
"Let her go, Y/N"
Y/N knew she had to obey her father, but she was scared enough that her body didn't react.
"I told you to drop it, Y/N!"
Before Y/N could react any further, her father's large hands began to run down her body, filling it with blows.
"WHEN SOMEONE GIVES YOU AN ORDER, YOU HAVE TO FOLLOW IT, YOU LITTLE PIECE OF SHIT!"
————————————————————————
"ENOUGH CAROL!"
Y/N kicked Carol, forcing her to back away, but, Carol had managed to loosen Y/N's shorts, causing them to ride down Y/N's legs and exposing her scarred thighs.
Both women were silent.
Carol kept her eyes fixed on the scars and cuts on Y/N's body, but Y/N's eyes stared blankly, lost, as they began to fill with tears.
She felt used, exposed, vulnerable… abused.
As best she could, she tried to grab her things in a hurry.
"Y/N, what are those?" Carol was closely following Y/N's footsteps, trying to be able to understand what had happened. "Y/N… Did you cut yourself?"
Y/N kept ignoring her, stuffing her things into her backpack, even, closing her notebook even when the watercolors were not dry, probably ruining the drawing.
"Y/N"
The young woman placed her backpack on her shoulder and picked herself up off the ground.
Carol did the same, but, before Y/N moved a foot, she held his arm and whispered.
"Y/N"
"DON'T TOUCH ME!"
Y/N slapped Carol's hand away. Both in complete shock at Y/N's extreme reaction.
"Y/N…"
"No, Carol. I don't want to talk to you."
Y/N began to walk, Carol following close behind, but not touching her again.
"Y/N"
"No!"
"Y/N, where are you planning to go, it's okay if you don't want to talk to me, but at the very least let me take you home."
Y/N paused, thinking for a few seconds. And walked back to where Carol was, getting into the car.
————————————————————————
Summer was officially over.
Two weeks after Carol and Y/N had their fight.
Two weeks since Y/N did not answer Carol's calls.
Two weeks since Y/N avoided Carol's visits.
Two weeks since Y/N threw away Carol's letters and flowers.
Two weeks since Y/N was feeling like a little five-year-old girl again.
Two weeks since Y/N felt like she wanted to die.
Two weeks since Y/N could not continue.
Note:
Damn, I'm so sorry I'm late with this, but maybe you guys have heard that I had a problem with my health. I'm much better now and ready to get back into the swing of things (as long as this dreaded life of a functional adult can allow me).
I hope you enjoy it
I appreciate the reblogs, the likes and the comments
taglist: @littlebitchsposts // @xxsekhmet
message me or send an ask to be added to my taglist!
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marcia-11111 · 1 year
Text
Daffodils. Prologue. Sae Itoshi x gender neutral reader
TW! 
Breakup, angst, and heartache
Synopsis:
Sae Itoshi is a Japanese prodigy pursuing his dream of becoming the world's best midfielder. In the race to his own goals, he loses the person dearest to him: you. 
(y/n) (l/n) - Sae’s ex-partner. You are an exchange student from a Spanish university who came to Japan. You met him a few years ago during your year abroad in Spain and became his partner. You have moved on, or you thought you had. However, what will happen when the one who wanted you to avoid him the most finds himself again in your life? Is he going to prove his love to you? Or will everything turn into another heartbreak? Does your heart want the Japanese prodigy back?
All "Blue lock" characters belong to the authors of the manga and anime "Blue lock".
h/c - hair colour
e/c - eye colour
s/t - skin tone
Please don't translate, plagiarise nor use my works on other social media platforms, etc.
-----------------------
TWO YEARS AGO
Whoever said loving was supposed to be easy must have been lying. It was anything but pleasant for you. A young human being in their late teens. How would you have known that choosing to date as an adolescent could turn a person into a scarred soul? Today was one of those days when you wondered about everything, from decisions to hopes. The person whom your youthful heart elected to love became your boyfriend. The one you yearned for was the Japanese prodigy and Real Madrid’s Youth team midfielder. You didn't even know when your crush on someone you should not have accepted to crave had started; however, what should you have done when your heart was stronger than your will? 
You would have been fine if it had not been for your sensitivity, and you would not have been crying on the bed, hiding from the cruelty of the world. Everything you believed in was altered by the words he poured into your mind. You knew he was cruel, but you never imagined he would go so far as to destroy everything you would built together. The relationship with your boyfriend ended a week ago. Sae was your first love and the person you decided to commit to. It seemed you were not enough for him. All your affection only pushed him further away from you. Both of you parted ways in such a horrendous manner. Everything was fine until last Tuesday. Your soul became imprinted with the memory of that (not-so)-warm evening.
A soccer game before you broke up. You could not have gone there and chosen yourself over him, but you did not. Unfortunately, the bus came late, and when you arrived there, the second half had already started. Your eyes noticed how Sae struggled. The opposite team had an advantage of two points, and nothing could have been done to overcome the obstacles caused by the opponents’s strategy. 
The match had ended, and you came up to Sae. 
“Good job, Sae.” You smiled softly at him, and he scowled. “Is everything fine, my love?” His reaction filled your mind with worry.
“I am fine, (y/n).” Sae answered in a rude manner, “And I didn’t do well." He frowned, having been deeply in thought. After a minute’s pause. “We should break up.”
Your eyes widened. The heart started to beat faster, and no breath escaped your lips. 
“Why? We have dated for so long, Sae. Just why? Explain it to me. Please.” Tears welt up in your (e/c) eyes. You tried to grab his muscular arms.
The prodigy looked away and did not dare spare you even a glance. 
"Why?  I love you-” 
“You mean nothing to me, (y/n). You are only an obstacle. Every second I spend with you takes me away from becoming the best midfielder in the world. Go away. That’s all.” Sae expressed himself in a cruel and cold manner. The teal eyes were filled with nothing but ice. Tears spilled down your cheeks. “I have had enough of your soft and sensitive heart. Do not come back. I do not wish to see you anymore.” He added. His words made your aching soul hurt more. 
“But-” Your hand tried to grab his shoulder, but you took it away when Sae chose to step back. 
“No, (y/n). We are done. Our relationship was a plain waste of time. I was never truly yours. Stop lying to yourself.” The midfielder turned around, causing you to face his broad back. “I hope we never see each other again.” Then he left you all alone, crying your heart out.
It took everything you had not to fall. The person you cared most about broke you. The tears cascaded down like a waterfall. Your heart was filled with the rain clouds that sunny evening. That day, you decided never to fall in love again. However, the future is far more unpredictable than you might have thought.
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blingblong55 · 1 year
Text
Last Words of a Shooting Star-141+Los Vaqueros
pt.1
Heard you liked the first part, so heres this one!
Gn!reader, platonic!relationship
In the span of 5 months the team had lost all control of any other operation. Laswell let Price know it was time to take things easy. It happened when Soap and Gaz committed a few mistakes on a short operation that had happened a week after you arrival. "my men can do this." he protested, "No, and I can't have any casualties happen on my watch, you take care of your people and when all is good...I'll make and evaluation and put you back on the field. Take it slow." was all she had said. Ghost was furious, not even a 'are they okay' or anything, he started to understand why Alex had left.
3 months you had been gone out of their site. 2 months of recovery and many arguments between the team had occurred. 1 month of you being awake and fully conscious.
"it was all your fault. You had to get them away, didn't ya?" Gaz had spoken to a already upset Price. They had all been drinking that night. Except Ghost and Soap. Those two never left your side, if one had to shower the other would look after you.
Soap:
Tears left his already tired eyes.
It was only to you that he had full conversations with, always telling jokes to see your eyes shine once more.
Every morning he would take off and prepare you breakfast, the same one you would make him when he was in recovery for a wound.
"This time I added my mums recipe, and that awful syrup we have." he'd say, earning a small chuckle from you.
"Where would I be without my mactavish?" your smile brightening your friends soul. "Not alive, for sure."
It was always a joke, that if either of you got injured the other would be the servant, and it was their duty to make jokes of the situation.
When Alejandro was in the room, he would like to butcher his Spanish.
"thats not how you say it, pendejo!"
God did your giggles bring joy to him
he would do anything that was too stupid just to get a reaction off of you.
Gaz:
He resented price for so long, until the night you and him talked about it, eventually you told him "it wasn't on him, or you. This time it was just a minor fuck up."
He drank a lot, he wasn't a drinker before, but now he is.
You rarely saw him, it was always blowing off steam or training with Ghost.
He and Ghost were secretly planning revenge.
Although he was upset at you, for reasons he still wasn't sure about, you always woke up to fresh flowers and get well balloons.
When he was upset about how he'd been treating you, he would usually go back to your room, and play your music. It was therapy for him.
I know people say he is all fun and games, but for a long time he wasn't. His whole demeanor had changed, and it was for the worst.
At times he let Ghost hurt him, he thought maybe he can earn all of the pain you went through this way.
He stopped crying once you woke up. But that didn't mean his heart ached for his best friend.
Price:
he blamed himself for it all.
Never did he step in your room.
He stopped smoking, swore he needed to clear his head, but in reality, it was you who smoked with him. His mouth in his cigar, a cigarette on yours. Telling stories and laughing.
You were a mini him, his best version of himself.
He behind everyones back caught the main guy, and while he was out "gathering intel for the hopeful next mission" he would go down to a safe house. For hours he would beat the shit out of the man.
Although Gaz blamed him for it all and for most he knew it was him to blame, everyone saw him calm, he slept better at night. Even apologized to Gaz for the pain he had caused.
While you were in recovery, he would ask the medical staff on updates.
He sent you flowers, but he would keep one, and once he would notice the flower was dying, he would buy more.
He added more security around base, men always stood outside of your room.
He installed cameras everywhere, and unfortunately he saw his team fall apart, he saw how soap was running out of energy, how Gaz walked into your room and cried, how Ghost though mighty and strong lost his strength, the person who was sunshine and hope soon became the kryptonite.
When alone, he would look at your file, and sometimes stare at pictures where you held enemies or evidence in your arms. Your smile wide, your team stood proud, "what a life you've lived, kid" he would whisper, regret coming back and making him cry.
Alejandro:
Much like price, he kept one of the men that had tortured you
He took his sweet time torturing that man, sometimes he would forget blood was smeared on his body.
"¿qué es eso?" Rudy would ask, "mi almuerzo" he'd respond.
He would rarely be with you instead he would always busy himself cleaning your room.
One time some stupid rookie started playing Amor Eterno (super sad song in Spanish..thanks google,,,now its ME crying).
He started crying because he imagined a life where you weren't there, one where you had never made it out of the infirmary.
I don't think anyone understands how much you resembled his family, your stories where your family didn't treat you right and how you had found comfort in his family.
You so smart but so dumb when it came to common sense.
Much like his little sisters, they lacked common sense, good thing you knew more.
Rudy:
He would call his mom, asked for any soup recipe she can give. And he would make it for you.
"Una vez que comas esto, comenzarás a sentirte mejor." he would say as you were fed by him and soap.
After a while of looking he would find the photograph of you and his siblings. He carried it everywhere.
This man was the one who sneaked you out to go look at the stars, your excuse was "this is a comet that passes once in a lifetime, por favor rudy, si te gusto, harás esto conmigo."
He read to you after he heard from the medics you had night terrors.
You made him promise to not look for revenge, it was stupid and not kind. "You'll get hurt, hermano."
Yes at time he cried but it stopped very soon.
Rudy also changed, he wasn't so kind or at least he tried looking rough, this man has a kind look in his eyes so it was hard to change his stereotype.
As comfort he brought his blanket replacing the one the staff had given you.
Lots of hugs because he also needed reassurance of your current state, (don't you dare tell me he isn't like this bc I know he is)
Ghost:
He rarely slept, the bags under his eyes called him out. and after much hesitation, he slept, but only when he was around you.
The days he trained with Gaz, he thought of you. His best soldier and only family member (I know he has the other guys but the bond you and him had created was further from any of his relationships with the other men)
On some of your bad days he would go and collect a small flowers, it was a promise he had to fulfill, "if either you or I get hurt, we get small flowers and hide them in Soaps awful hair." "agree" he grins at the commitment, so small but so important to him.
One time he found out what price had hidden, so he followed him and once price was back at base, he took his round with the man. He made sure to keep him close to death and near life.
Every night when soap would go out, he would sing to you. "Gosh you need lessons Simon" you would joke. "as if your voice wasn't;t worse" he replied.
Beautiful boy was the one song you two sang when needed, only 3 times has that song been sung, and the next one would be at either yours or his funeral.
He hugged you without every hurting you, he told jokes and stories. The ones only he and the stars had heard, you like the comet were an anomaly, a once in a lifetime listener.
He showed you how to mask the scars he knew you'd be conscience about, "now lift the sleeve and turn it up a little." he instructed and watched as you got desperate and gave up.
"such loser mentality." "shut up."
A/n: I'm so glad you all enjoyed the first part. Thank you for reading this one too!
REQUEST ARE OPEN!!
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simslegacy5083 · 4 months
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NSB (Straud Legacy) Gen 9 Ep 77: When it All Falls Apart
Luigi had hoped to scuffle with Leroy secretly, so as not to disrupt the party, but Vlad had ensured the pair a wider audience.
Peachy was front and center, mustering up his best "cop voice" as he hollered at the fighters to "cease and desist!". Sadly, either his policing skills were rusty, or the combatants were too far gone, but it did no good and the battle continued to rage.
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Luigi had expected the scrap with his elder to be easy, but Leroy had a lifetime of experience picking fights in seedy dive bars.
The expert brawler landed hit after hit. Luigi started out deflecting the worst of them, but soon had the wind knocked out of him. Head spinning, he could no longer defend himself. Leroy landed one final decisive punch, declaring "and that’s how it's DONE, you young punk!”
With that he turned around to grab his coat and his wife and get out of there, figuring correctly that he was no longer welcome.
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As for the loser, Luigi didn’t just feel defeated, but also humiliated and judged by the hushed crowd of family that had appeared suddenly around him.
His anger spent, the foolishness of his little escapade came crashing down on him like a tidal wave of guilt. How had stooping to Leroy’s level ever seemed like a good idea? Even if he had won their little scrap he would have looked like a colossal ass, fighting on his dad's special day.
Dazed and aching, he wobbled over to a nearby bench, flopping down and burying his throbbing face in his hands.
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He looked up and tried to smile when he heard Amaya approach, but something about the fight had clearly set her off.
“What kind of evil jerk tries to beat up an old man at his father’s wedding?! You can lose my number; I’m not interested in dating someone who would act the way you acted tonight. I can’t believe I was so wrong about you!” Having said her piece, she turned around and stormed off in a huff.
Hurt and shocked Luigi yelled at her retreating back to "just go then, if that's how you feel!". Fuming and trying to convince himself he'd never really liked her that much anyway; he didn’t even notice his dad approach until Peachy quietly settled beside him.
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As calmly as he could Peachy told his boy: “I hope I won’t hear any excuses out of you. No matter what Leroy said or did, sneaking away to brawl like the sort of tavern crawler he associates with is not a reasonable way to settle differences or right any perceived wrong.”
Luigi's heart felt like it would break in two as his father went on “your papa would never want to see you acting this way. He always used logic and cunning to fight his battles. What you just did makes you no better than the sims Jack and I were forced to put away back in the day. I’m not mad, son, just deeply disappointed and worried. Please take a few minutes to reassess your behavior and do some serious soul searching, because you are on the edge of a very dark path.”
Clapping him on the shoulder Peachy rose, turning back with a smile “Not too long though. The dance floor is open, and that’s what I was hoping to see my boy doing tonight. It always makes you look so happy.”
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As the crowd headed back inside, Luigi sat alone in the twilight, attempting the "soul searching" his father had recommended. He thought of how easily Leroy had goaded him into violence, and his father's concerns that he could end up on a "dark path" if he didn't change his behavior.
Looking back even further he considered his other serious altercations. Crashing prom and picking a fight with Bryon just because he'd asked Isra to go with him to the dance after they'd broken up. Beating up Beau, who all in all was turning out to be a decent sim, accidently injuring him in the process, because he'd made some snarky comments about Denton's choice of Spooky Day attire.
Amaya's choice of words as she was leaving echoed in the back of his brain. She'd called him evil. Surely, she was wrong… maybe he'd been quick to anger in the past but surely, he wasn't an evil sim, was he?
🎶Its me, hi, I’m the problem, its me🎶
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View The Full Story of My Not So Berry Challenge Here
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Text
Word Find Tag
Catch up p2 - Thanks for the tag in May 😶, @oh-no-another-idea! <3
My words: flinch, interrupt, idiot, name, and bottle
Your words: shift, soothe, secret, support, and suspicious
Gently tagging: @i-can-even-burn-salad, @outpost51, @winterandwords, and You, if you want. Here's an Open Tag :)
Moving on down the list, these words will be from Shattered Soul (welcome to unedited-ville lol)
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Flinch & Name Kiala
Her eyes darted around the room. "Am I—" she cleared her throat, "am I a prisoner here?" Puzzled, Kiala placed a hand over hers, pretending not to notice her flinch. "Why in Reyanel's name would you be a prisoner?" Her auburn brows drew together, her eyes narrowing as if she thought Kiala was crazy, or slow. "Because apparently, I am a human in the fae lands. Even if nothing I've heard about the fae is true, I can't imagine I'd be welcome here." Okay… this was an interesting development. Kiala moved back to the chair, the tenseness in the female's body giving her all the clues she needed as to whether she welcomed tactile comfort right now. "Would you mind sharing your name? Referring to you as "the female" is getting a little tiresome." The female stared, an indecipherable look crossing through her jewel-toned eyes. Serafae, she had to be a serafae, with those eyes. Kiala saw absolutely no evidence of human ancestry anywhere she looked. "Alaia," the female finally croaked out. "Thank you, Alaia." Kiala gave her a gentle smile. "I'm not sure why you think you're human. Everything about you screams fae, except for your eyes, which leads me to believe you're a seraph and fae halfling."
Interrupt Darian
Are you guys going to have sex already? I've been waiting forever and I'm bored. Darian brought his head up to find Alaia's dragon, Fyel, hovering over their shoulders. His interruption cleared the haze of lust from his mind, and he stepped back, leaving Alaia flushed and panting against the wall. Gods, he had to get ahold of himself. They needed to get out of his rooms. Grasping at straws, he said the first thing that came to mind. "You mentioned wanting a haircut." Fyel swooped in to land on Alaia's shoulder. Eloquent, isn't he? She shook her head, amusement replacing the glazed look in her eyes.
Idiot Alaia
Alaia woke in her room at the Hall of Healing on the fourth day of Darian's absence, missing him so much her heart ached. She curled up in her bed and attempted to reason with the stupid organ, to tell it how ridiculous it was to miss someone this much when she'd barely spent any time with him. Her heart didn't listen, and she was trying to hold back reaching out to Aleix until a more decent hour when a knock sounded on her door. Wiping the tears from her eyes, Alaia pushed aside the books littering her bed and sat up. A glance out her window revealed a soft red glow lightening the navy of the night sky, but the sun hadn't even crested the horizon yet. Gods, she hoped she hadn't leaked her emotions. It was then she felt the bond thrumming inside her, pulling her gaze toward the door. It had been faint with the distance between them, but now… Alaia? It's me. I know it's early, but can I come in? She leapt out of bed at the sound of Darian's mindvoice and practically threw herself at the door. Her fingers fumbled on the lock, but she finally got it open, barely daring to breathe. And there he was. Darian was hardly visible in the shadowed hallway, with his black hair and black leathers and brown skin. His eyes were the only part of him that caught the faint light coming in through her window, and Alaia found herself standing there like an idiot, drowning in a sea of amber.
Bottle Serin
"Gods Serin, how bad was it to start with if it still looks like this after multiple Healers have been at you?" Lyre asked. He was starting to feel woozy, and he leaned harder into Bell's sturdy chest. "Filleted like a fish, one of the Healers said." Serin laugh-cried. Bell cursed under his breath. "Are they trying to kill you? I've never seen another mage delivered to the common room in your condition." Lyre's face was hard as she agreed, then she turned, speaking softly to the mage on her other side. From the gods only knew where, a roll of bandages and a cloth were delivered, along with a sealed bottle. She uncorked it with her teeth, and the pungent scent of straight alcohol assailed Serin's nose, making his eyes water. Or maybe the moisture streaking down his face was just him crying. Again.
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