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#or at the very least something enjoyable enough to read
shiroganeryo · 3 months
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I don't know if you've answered this before but what do you predict will be the ending for DGrayman? I think we all think that Kanda (my boy's got literal death flags everywhere) and Allen will die, but what about everyone else? How will the world be saved?
I really apologize for taking so long to get to this ask, but I've been actually thinking the matter over and over. My answer is probably a little off the chart regarding to the actual question, but this is all I can muster with the current information we have (up to chapter 250). This will be a tad long but I'll try to keep it brief.
But the thing is: it's impossible for me to make a prediction. The beauty in Hoshino's writing is that, while she scatters little details for us to catch and plants seeds very early on, helping us find out certain reveals ahead of time (Allen being the 14th's host, Mana being the Earl; there were very early signs for things like these, things of the sort), knowing such information still isn't enough to give us a definite outline of how the story itself will play out.
That's masterfully done writing right there, and I admire her so because of it; not many shounen/seinen mangaka nowadays can pull this off with the same grace as she does.
Back to your question, much like the majority of the fandom, I believe Kanda will die at the end and there are two reasons for that: one is that it's been hinted at (we could even call it foreshadowing) since Kanda claims he wouldn't be able to die in peace without returning the favor to Allen - not to say he means anything other than "one day I'll die and then I'd take this regret with me to the grave", but we can only get the feeling he has dwelled on the thought (and also possibility) of dying, sooner than expected, especially with the weakened state of his seal.
The other reason is that this would be the most gratifying ending for Kanda, as he would be able to reunite with Alma. He lived his entire life searching for that person and longing to reunite, so that would be the most logical route to take - as well as the best, happiest ending possible for Kanda. After all the horrors the Seconds went through, they both deserve eternal peace.
As for Allen... call me crazy, but I believe there is a chance, albeit slim, that he makes it out alive. I'll need to bring up some things from Chapter 250 to be able to elaborate on this, so here's your warning not to click the Read More if you're avoiding spoilers.
One thing I've observed is that Hoshino plays a lot on word meanings (which unfortunately translation can't convey efficiently) as well as red herrings. Ever since we found out Allen's the 14th's host, he's been considered doomed to get erased so we're playing a clock-ticking game, waiting until that happens.
So it seems that there are only two possibilities: that Allen either gets erased by Nea, or that he dies, sacrificing himself for everyone's sake in the ensuing battle against the Earl that is possibly bound to happen. I can easily picture Allen doing the latter, but the latest chapters gave us something else to consider: Apocryphos' meddling.
We still don't know the full details as to why, but Allen is both deemed as an angel as well as a lamb of sacrifice to the Heart. Something makes me think Apocryphos might be trying to 'craft' the perfect host for the Heart by making use of Allen.
It just aligns with everything we know about Apocryphos as an entity: for someone that is a sentient Innocence whose existence gravitates around the sole purpose of protecting the Heart, why is it so obsessed with a specific accommodator, to the point it even quite literally turned Allen into a blank slate (Nea has confirmed so)?
I'm led to believe Allen is not the Heart, that would be far too easy and predictable. But that's not to say he can't become the Heart. We don't know if the Heart is sentient (all Innocence seem to have sentience to an extent regardless) or if it has an accommodator, and if there is one, if this person isn't out there waiting for the perfect candidate to pass the Heart on to.
This is all just speculation, of course. But it's something that's been on my mind for a while, as I've tried to understand Apocryphos' end goal.
And in the end, if Allen and Nea have become allies due to their shared goal (ending the war and saving Mana), that could also mean that they both die together, as that would be the reunion of Mana and Nea as one, as well as the reunion of Allen with the Mana he so loved.
But then comes in another valuable variable that is Link. It's highly likely that he might sacrifice himself and bring Allen back if he falls, but because of how Atuuda works, that would mean exchanging his own life for Allen's.
There are just a lot of things that could go either way, and that's how Hoshino is so good at keeping us guessing. I often say that I find theorizing anything that goes too far into the future of DGM to be pointless because of how sharply a new, unseen reveal might shift the current scenario.
The latest chapter is building up the expectation that Allen will meet his end soon, especially since the Zoogle Bookstore entered the picture. And that is exactly what's keeping me from being able to predict anything worthy of note; because what they unravel there will very likely be a major game changer not only to Allen but to all involved - which means, by extension, everyone involved in the Holy War.
Another thing keeping me from theorizing anything more solid is Lavi. As a Bookman, he's a witness to history itself, and his whereabouts/status are extremely relevant to map out an end game. The most popular theory is that he's the one telling Allen's story, as it seems the D. in the title refers to "Dear Gray Man".
I can, however, also see Allen as the potential narrator of this story. As for whomst this Gray Man is, only time will tell.
I could go on and on with this, and not get anywhere near what'll truly happen. It's difficult to reach a conclusion in what will happen at the very end for the aforementioned reasons, but if there's one thing I can say, is that this current universe's loop will be the one to end the Holy War, so the Black Order and the Clan of Noah should cease existing as organizations.
Innocence would very likely cease existing as well, having fulfilled its purpose, so all accommodators would be freed. With the end of the war, also comes peace for the Memory of Noah, freeing its hosts from the millenia-old anguish that bound them to a perpetually-destroying world. That would leave the remaining survivors free to do as they please with their lives, away from the war, at last.
First and foremost, DGM is a story about love and hope, even in the darkest of times, and most fans can resonate with such - it's not rare to hear from a fan how this series has helped them hang on when things were looking rather dim in their personal lives. DGM's story is a tragedy, but a beautiful, bittersweet one, just like real life. Thus while I don't see it having a perfect, neatly sanitized ending, I don't see it having a kind of overly dramatic 'everyone dies and the planet explodes' kind of ending either. It would go against everything Hoshino has built all along, after all.
I apologize if, in the end, this wasn't the kind of answer you were hoping for, especially with how long it got - and I did keep it brief, really! But thanks to you and whoever may be reading until here. ❤️
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graveyardcuddles · 2 months
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The early stages of Astarion's romance as he's just beginning to fall for the player are so precious to me. There are so many lovely scenes/moments with Astarion's romance throughout the game that it's really hard to pick a favorite. Obviously, the final romance scene in the graveyard is incredibly beautiful and makes me weep, and the conversation you have with him after defending him from Araj is brilliant.
But honestly, the one scene I keep rotating in my head, even months post game release, is the scene where he propositions you for the second time. I love how it's both incredibly angsty and also painfully sweet to me? I love the silly flirting he does, I love the fake-ass manipulative "I love you," he give you (that might have made me a lil mad first time I played). And I especially love how much you can read between the lines in those moments. Personally, I'm a big believer that Astarion definitely has at least a bit of crush on the player at this point, if not already actively falling for them. The "I love you" might not have been 100% real in the moment, but his responses for when you both accept and reject his offer are very telling.
A lot has been said about how he seems to be genuinely disappointed when you turn him down the second time. And I think he is a bit disappointed, has a bit of a hurt ego probably. But mostly he seems very self-reflective. He mentions how he got on his back so many times for so many people and none of it was memorable or enjoyable, unlike with you. That's such a vulnerable thing to admit, something that he doesn't necessarily need to confess to Tav in order to manipulate them. It's like he's trying to grapple with the feelings himself. That subtle pause and look in his eyes right after he wishes us goodnight? He wants to connect with us in a non-sexual way SO BADLY but just can't feel safe enough to at this point.
When you accept his offer, he plays it off cool at first. But I love how right before the fade to black he says: "There you are. Now you're all mine and I'm all yours...At least until morning." He's literally thinking about how long you two can have this time alone together. And his cute little "Let’s see where the night takes us~" with this little happy sway and smile he does it's like...he's so eager to just have this time with us. He might still be trying to "seduce" and manipulate our feelings at this point, but he's so obviously just happy to be spending time with his favorite person.
The feelings were complex and obviously may have felt tainted by his plan, but I feel like it's all a part of him learning to enjoy intimacy again. Which eventually leads to him learning to enjoy non-sexual intimacy with his partner in Act II and III. Idk I just think watching all the stages of him falling in love and learning to be worthy of love is so neat.
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elainemorisi · 2 years
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I can't believe, 2/2 thus far on the only even kind of good filmed scifi being "schlocky muscle dudes from the 90s"
#are they on par with written no of course not#are they fucking painful to watch a la much lauded horseshit? NO! THEY ARE GOOD!#I am now reading the wikipedia summary for Pitch Black's reviews and my dudes I have a theory about why the horseshit is so lauded#'lack of exploration of the alien world and recycled human conflicts' ???#look. look at me. anyone who thinks that 99.9% of ANY LITERARY FORM can say something interesting about aliens is an idiot#film simply Cannot Do It#99.8% of written works cannot do it#you use science fictional concepts to say something about recycled human conflicts come ON#good science fiction says something with its concepts that cannot be said without them#Pitch Black ain't that it's a perfectly straightforward individual-person story#(and... that person is not Vin Diesel wtf)#but at least it's fun and well-done and not UP ITS OWN ASS about something it's doing badly anyway!#it does a very respectable scifi thing that isn't committed to often enough: leans into and sticks with horror#truly lauded filmed scifi is that LeGuin quotation about falling off a rope bemoaning being called a tightrope walker#it's just congratulating itself for flying instead of bemoaning#anyway the other enjoyable one is Total Recall which I will actually say if it'd disfigured its leads at the end#would be fully on par with decent writing; it doesn't so it's just enjoyable and again uses its perfectly simple conceit well but hey#(I have watched but totally forgotten Alien for the record so please assume no implied claims about that one)
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yandere-romanticaa · 8 months
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𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who took a sudden interest in you once you moved to your new place. Finding this place was relatively easy and the rent was dirt cheap. The previous owner was also beyond eager to be rid of this property as soon as he possibly could be. His demeanor when he was showing you around the place was incredibly odd, not to mention that it made you feel jumpy. He was constantly toying with his hands, the sweat he was oh so obviously trying to hide had already created massive puddles all over his white button up, he even tried putting on some cologne and lighting some incense but nothing worked. You decided not to comment and chose to only follow him around, asking him the most basic questions anyone could think of. At the end of the tour the man had turned fully towards you, a big grin suddenly on his face as he raised his arms slightly upwards in a dramatic gesture.
"I'm sure you'll be very comfortable here. Take these keys - welcome to your new home!"
And with that, he was out the door and gone into the night. Holding the metallic key in your hand you closed the door shut and took one last look around the place for the evening. Unfortunately, you were in no position to turn down a place so cheap. It was this or the streets. It'll only be a few months, you had said to yourself.
What could possibly go wrong?
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who had been following you around the moment you stepped foot into the place. At first he did nothing but observe as he needed to get used to you, his new roommate. It was enjoyable watching you live out your mundane life, cooking, cleaning and the sorts. He was also interested in your possible hobbies - did you read? Write? Paint? Play an instrument? He has been dead for quite a while now and staying dead can get very tedious and outright boring. He always got a little kick out messing with the owners of this place but there were times when he would go overboard. With a scoff, those thoughts were banished from his mind almost immediately.
It's not as though he was here completely alone. There were... others. Hiding in the shadows. Some more dangerous than others. The rest were human souls such as he was, unable to pass onto the other side. They weren't as proactive as he was as they were not too keen on the living.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who starts leaving you little clues and hints around the house. Old books that you couldn't possibly own, newspapers which dated all the way back to his era. A broken glass here, a suspicious handprint there. He particularly enjoyed praying on you while you occupied the bathroom. Don't get him wrong, he was no pervert! Heavens no!
... Maybe he was a little. No need to worry, it's not as though he can act out on any of his urges anyway.
But there was just something so vulnerable to see you so exposed, so completely alone in your element. There was no one else who could see you like this (he always laughed a little at your cluelessness). Your image was etched into his memory like a record that played over and over, if he had the ability to paint you, he would.
Watching became tedious though. He wanted and needed more.
Even in death, he was still just a man.
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓, who was trying to get you to talk to him. By simply calling out to him was enough, at least at the start. There was an old ouija board hidden beneath an old bed and it was the perfect means of communication.
He just wished there were other, more safer options than that. He knew all too well that if a person was not careful they could summon something else completely.
That was how he got into this mess into the first place.
That thing would also catch wind of things. He couldn't allow that. Feelings he hasn't felt in decades started to come flooding back but they were even stronger than they ever were in life. Panic, fear and worry - they were all consuming and nothing could ease his mind. Even as he stood at the foot of your bed and watched your chest rise up and down, up and down, there was still no peace for him. He was bitter at your liveliness and your ability to breathe but at the same time, the softness of your cheeks and the song of your laughter became addictive, dare he say like a drug. He wasn't too fond of the fact that other people came over so often, that was not fair.
It was supposed to be just you and him! Even if you didn't know it yet!
𝐘𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑𝐄! 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓 who amps up the hauntings and starts becoming more aggressive. He is sick and tired of these games, he wants you all to himself. Windows are forced open and shut, books and other objects start flying off shelves in the dead of night and you even manage to catch a glance of him one evening in the bathroom mirror.
You tried running out the door, barely even dressed but he had locked all of the door beforehand.
His voice could be heard tandem echoes, all teasing and petrifying. He wasn't sure if he wanted you alive or dead anymore.
He just wanted you to stay.
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itsswritten · 2 months
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gone. | 3
Pairing: Azriel x fem reader
Word Count: 5.9K
Warnings: Slight angst, drinking alcohol, nightmares, slight mentions of death.
Summary: Sometimes it take's heartbreak to move on...or to realise what you've always had.
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To celebrate your return, Mor insisted on a night out at Rita's. Despite your lingering exhaustion and the pull of a quiet weekend begging you to spend it sleeping and reading, you didn’t have the heart to say no to her.
That evening, you prioritised finishing your reports before joining your friends at Rita's. You had always been exceptionally dutiful in your role, taking immense pride in your responsibilities. Though Mor grumbled at your decision to work, she reluctantly agreed to meet you there later, with the rest of the group.
As you worked alone, you cherished the moments of silence. After six months of solitude, acclimatising to the hustle and bustle of family life was both exciting and well… exhausting. And navigating your relationship with Azriel wasn’t the easiest, you were trying, trying really hard in fact. And although you had fallen into old patterns, it was still a little awkward at times. 
Azriel had perhaps had the most enjoyable week he’d experienced since you’d left all those months ago. Everyone had noticed how the tension had eased from his shoulders, warmth had returned to his eyes and how finally, his lips would pull into a full smile again. Azriel hadn’t allowed himself a moment of happiness since you left, in fact he quickly realised in your absence how you were the cause of most of his smiles. So your eagerness to mend a bridge between you both had been greatly appreciated, and he had relished in having your company back.
Yet, despite the familiarity in your interactions– friendly banter, teasing laughter and comforting silence. Azriel still felt the weight of your confession, and what it had done to him. How it had peeled back the layers on himself, revealing something that threatened the very dynamic you had begged for when you came back.
Best friends again?
Your words reverberated in his mind, a relentless echo of your plea. Azriel had teetered on the edge of refusal, almost said no, on the brink of voicing his own desire for something more. Admitting that just being friends would no longer be enough. But he found himself frozen under your vulnerable gaze, he had faltered, he too, consumed with the fear of unsettling the delicate relationship between you. The idea of risking your friendship was too daunting, too uncertain. It was safer to remain friends, safer to keep things as they were.
So he had remained silent.
Azriel took another sip of his drink, listening to his family laughing around their designated table at Rita’s. You weren’t here yet, your usual spot next to him and Mor still empty. Mor had mentioned you were wrapping up some work, and a part of him couldn't shake the urge to seek you out. He was contemplating sending his shadows to check on you. 
Again.
His shadows had been silent watchers since you came back, although you hadn’t you seemed to mind. In fact after spending six months with a few of the smoky tendrils, you actually welcomed their company. Each morning, you were greeted by at least one shadow curling around your cheek, or if you were away from the group for too long, a shadowy companion would appear to give you a light whispery kiss on your skin.
Whether they acted of their own accord or at Azriel's behest remained unclear to you.
He had always been protective of his family, but it only intensified with you since your return. It becoming somewhat obsessive. He couldn’t stop himself though, and you hadn’t rejected his shadows yet, so he took that as silent confirmation that he could continue.
“Gods, the girl has always known how to dress.” Amren said approvingly, her words pulling Azriel out of his thoughts. He followed her gaze to the entrance of Ritas, where a familiar figure seemed to capture the attention of the room.
You.
Dressed in a black lacy number, you exuded an alluring energy. In fact you always had, but Azriel in all his centuries of knowing you had done a remarkable job of ignoring it. The dress was classy in shape, but the sheerness added that Night Court sex appeal you always carried so well. A little black thong and bralette peeked through the sheer fabric, while the lace hugged all your curves.
You had always captured the attention of everyone, a trait of yours that had only become more endearing to Azriel as the years went on. But previously, he would bury those thoughts and feelings in the darkest recesses of his mind, never to be touched. Them only slipping out occasionally in his dreams.
Those particular dreams had plagued his sleep for centuries now, his deepest desires burying themselves in his consciousness to slide out when he drifted into a slumber. His suppressed desires manifesting themselves in vivid dreams, visions of you that often made him struggle with what was real or illusion. 
Some dreams were innocent, filled with whispered conversations under the starry nights. Dreams of taking you flying while your melodic laugh filled his ears. It was those nights he slept soundly, his mind surrendering to the hazy false reality.
There were also those darker dreams. More forbidden. 
The kind that made it hard for him to look at you the next day. It was those dreams he struggled to stir from, the kind of dreams where he’d find you waiting for him in his bed, or where he’d wake still hearing your moans and the taste of you on his lips. 
He’d had more of those dreams since you’d come back, and he knew he would definitely have that problem tonight after seeing you in that dress.
Was it really a problem though?
He couldn’t pretend that those dreams weren’t some of his favourites. As guilty as they made him feel.
And now, after everything. Knowing that there had been a possibility you could have been his, that feeling you, tasting you could have been his reality– he found it hard to steer his gaze. Hard to ignore your allure. Hard to believe he ever could have been so blind.
Pretty, pretty, pretty.
His shadows coiled round his ear to chant, it was information he didn’t need. Because he already knew how beautiful you were. 
He watched as you sauntered in, flashing a smile and small wave to regulars you recognised. A male had reached out, gently tugging on your arm for your attention, Azriel swore he heard him beg you to come dance.
“Maybe later,” you replied sweetly.
He was glad you rejected that male, glad he didn’t have to watch you dance with someone else, not that he had a right to feel that way. Azriel’s eyes followed the sway of your dress as it cascaded down to calf-length. He was mesmerised by you, and when he caught your scent he had to stop a quiet groan rolling up his throat.
Careful Azriel, you’re almost salivating there. It was Rhys’ talons that had clawed on Azriel’s mind, only for him to tease as soon as he was granted access.
Azriel shot Rhys a dark glare.
Fuck off.
Rhys merely laughed into Azriel’s mind. I’m just reminding you, that’s not how you look at a friend.
I said fuck off.
How you stayed composed all those centuries, to merely crumble now I’ll never understand.
Azriel was fast to push Rhys out his mind, while you took your seat beside him. “I got you a drink,” Azriel said to you, pushing your favourite cocktail your way.
“Thanks Az,” you beamed, picking the glass up to sip of the sweet concoction. A soft giggle left your lips as one of his shadows, coiled round the glass up your hand, to greet and pepper you with kisses.
He wanted to tell you how beautiful you looked, the words on the tip of his tongue but there was this fear holding him back. 
“ME-OWW, I want a bite of you!” Mor teased, her fingers grabbing your waist pulling you closer to her on the bench.
“Was that Orion giving you those sex-eyes?” she spoke loudly, wiggling her eyebrows suggestively. She had clearly seen the interaction you’d had with an old admirer of yours. 
You shrugged nonchalantly in response, opting to sip your drink instead of answer.
“We aren’t the only ones to have missed you it seems.” Nesta purred from across the table, joining in on Mor’s suggestiveness.
“Put the poor male out of his misery and fuck him already.” Amren smirked, stating an obvious solution.
The table erupted in amusement, words of encouragement and teasing remarks filling the air. It was definitely an option, one worth considering. Especially after that crushing rejection from Azriel.
And Orion was undeniably attractive. He had that deep dark tan with vibrant blond hair that offered a stark contrast to Azriel. It would be a welcome distraction.
However he could never match Azriel’s beauty. 
You noticed how strikingly handsome Azriel was looking tonight, dressed in all black just like you. Always so smart and chic, the pair of you always dressed that way. Mor had pointed out years ago, you both always seemed to coordinate effortlessly. Her comment had sparked a glimmer of hope within you, something you had desperately clung to. That maybe yours and Azriel’s connection was deeper, and a small part of you had fantasised at the possibility that maybe you were mates. 
In the end it had just been wishful thinking. Fulled by your own affection and longing. You and Azriel were fated to be only friends.
And that would be enough.
You rolled your bottom lip into your mouth, glancing behind you with Mor to look at the male. A large shit-eating grin on his face as he winked at you. He was quite the charmer.
“Hmmm maybe,” you replied to your friends quietly as you turned back to face them, Mor bumping her shoulder with yours gently in response. 
Maybe this was how you would move on from Azriel? By getting under someone else. 
You’re not sure why you felt compelled to look, why you cared what he thought, but your gaze steered to your side. Gazing up at your handsome darked-haired friend. Azriel’s eyes were already on you. There was an intensity in his eyes that caught you off guard. 
He didn’t appear impressed, neither angry nor happy. “You’re too good for him,” he stated quietly, before taking a sip of his drink again.
You wanted to respond, ask what he meant by that. Ask why he even cared, why it even mattered. Casual rendezvous’ didn’t hold some kind of standards, and your partners didn’t need to meet whatever expectations Azriel suddenly had for you.
“Oh shut it Az! She deserves to get laid, she didn’t get to have any fun on her trip and that was six months long!” Mor reiterated her rhetoric from the other day.
You rolled your eyes, about to interject to remind her once again you were not on some half-year vacation.
“It was not some trip but a high-stakes mission yadda yadda” Mor chimed, mimicking you.
You had to bite your lip to stop yourself from laughing, the female really knew how to open you up. Her teasing, her probing, was relentless to some. But had always worked on you. Pulling back those walls. 
Giving her a playful glint you spoke, “I almost had some fun if you must know.”
For some reason, you found yourself stealing a glance at Azriel, curious about his reaction. He had never taken an interest in your romantic encounters in the past, so his sudden attention confused you. 
Azriel tensed at your words, chewing the inside of his cheek before taking another sip of his drink. It was Rhys that was watching him with that infamous smirk. Azriel wanted to wipe it clean off his brother’s face.
I told you to fuck off.
Rhys only laughed back into his brother's mind.
“Give me all the details.” Mor squealed, clasping your hands in hers.
You shrugged, your lips curing into a soft smirk, retelling how you had met this mysterious male on your travels. “He was really cute…handsome…had these gorgeous eyes,” you sighed dramatically, your eyes gazing off into the distance, hand on your heart. “But he was the enemy, so I had to kill him.”
Your friends laughed in response, some of them shaking their heads in disbelief. Nesta leaned across the table with a dark glint in her eye, “You could have had a bit of fun first.”
You scoffed playfully at the notion, hand waving in the air dismissively. “Etiquette darling. I don’t like playing with my food before eating,” you purred.
Nesta shook her head with a smirk, “I’ve missed you, come dance.”
It wasn’t so much a request as it was a command when it came to Nesta and dancing. You rose from your seat, Mor and Feyre joining you eagerly as you made your way into the crowd, letting the music engulf you.
Azriel’s eyes, though, stayed glued on you.
"She's not going anywhere, Az," Cassian chuckled, downing the rest of his drink. It was easy for Cassian to assume Azriel’s obsessive nature had spun from your absence, from your dangerous mission, just Azriel’s natural protectiveness of all his family members, but of course that wasn’t the only reason.
He couldn't help but watch you, captivated by every movement. Not when you looked like that, when you moved like that, smelt like that.
Your confession had torn him a part, shattered his perception, forcing him to confront feelings he'd long buried. Make him acknowledge a possible reality he never considered himself worthy of. Azriel couldn't shake the image of what could have been, a world where it would have been your body swaying against his tonight.
Cassian had smacked his empty glass on the table now, shouting that he’d get another round in as he walked over to the bar.
“So what are you going to do, Azriel?” Rhys then asked, his own eyes never leaving Feyre who was dancing drunkenly with you.
Azriel glanced briefly at Amren, who remained at the table, swirling her drink absently. She didn't meet his gaze, clearly uninterested in being dragged into the complexities of her family's relationships.
"I don’t think you'll have four centuries to pine for her this time," Rhys remarked quietly. "I don’t think she'll wait that long."
Azriel drew in a sharp breath at Rhys’ words, his gaze still tracing the contours of your form. His breath caught as he realised your eyes had found him from across the crowded room. A soft smile forming on your lips, prompting him to give you one back in return.
If this was all he could have of you. Would it be enough?
“Az…”
He heard someone calling his name. That familiar melodic tone.
“…Azriel wake up,” that soft sweet voice sang to him. 
Only that voice could pull him from his deepest dreams and nightmares. 
Azriel stirred, his consciousness slowly emerging from the recesses of sleep. Blinking groggily, he glanced around his dimly lit room, his mind clouded with confusion. 
His head throbbed faintly, a dull ache pulsating behind his temples. Had he drank too much? He couldn't remember.
He turned on his side to face where your voice had called him, only to find you laying beside him. Why were you here? What had happened last night?
There was a soft smile gracing your lips. You were adorned in a delicate white nightgown, that seemed to shimmer in the faint glow of the moonlight filtering through the window. You were a vision of ethereal beauty— and you were in his bed. A sight that left Azriel momentarily breathless.
How had this come to be?
You were so close to him, only a breath away from his face. So close, he could feel the warmth radiating from your body. For a fleeting moment, he almost let himself get lost in your gaze. Those eyes, he loved so much. He often dreamt of them, lost himself in them, and searched for them in a crowded room. He loved the way they crinkled when you laughed. A sight he would never tire from seeing.
His mind was reeling though, he couldn't recall getting into bed. Or when you joined him.
"It's time, Az..." you whispered.
Azriel didn’t understand.
"Time for what?" Azriel mumbled, his brow furrowing in bewilderment.
Your words were sickly sweet, dripping with an unsettling ambiguity that sent shivers down his spine. But before he could make sense of them, your fingers were threading through his hair, and he found himself paralysed by the intimacy of the touch.
"It's just time," you murmured softly, your smile masking a deeper sorrow. Your voice echoing through the caverns of his mind like a haunting melody. 
But time for what? 
Azriel's confusion deepened, his heart pounding in his chest. Something was wrong, he could sense it. 
Where were his shadows?
Before he could question you further, he watched as you closed the small gap between you, pressing your lips to his.
As your lips met, there was a sensation of weightlessness over Azriel. As if he was suspended in a realm where time held no sway. It was silent, peaceful and felt endless. He wasn’t sure why or how this was happening, but he couldn’t bring himself to question. Couldn’t bring himself to break away.
No, not now. Not now he had you. 
His heart swelled with a mixture of joy and disbelief. You were finally his, finally in his arms.
He felt you against him. Your body plush to his, melting into his touch. A warmth vibrated through his chest, as your breaths mingled. Azriel’s arms wrapped around you tighter, as if terrified this would all slip away. 
Wait, something was wrong. But Azriel, lost to your touch, couldn’t remember what.
The softness of your kisses against his lips was like a sweet melody, stirring something deep within him. He craved more, his hunger for you insatiable, as if he could never get enough to quench the burning desire within him.
This was what he had been searching for all those years. All those times he got it wrong, thinking it was someone else. It had in fact been right in front of him the whole time– you. 
He could feel you pulling away. Azriel looked at you now, noticing that sorrowful expression on your face again.
“It’s time…I have to move on now,” you smiled sadly.
 "Move on...what do you mean?" he managed to ask, his voice barely above a whisper.
"I've waited so long, Az...too long," you replied, your words laced with a haunting sense of finality.
Unable to find the right words, Azriel watched helplessly as you began to slip away, sliding out of his arms and off the bed. He tried to move, tried to grab you, stop you, pull you back but you were slipping through his fingers like water.
A cold breeze swept through the room, sending goosebumps over his body. The air seemed to grow thicker, heavier, as if the very atmosphere was connected with your emotion. 
Panic gripped his chest, like a claw had clasped his heart and it was squeezing it with every heartbeat. Desperation was flooding his senses as he reached out for you, his voice cracking with emotion. Something was wrong.
“Wait don’t leave y/n, I’ve been meaning to tell you–”
"Will you make me wait another 400 years, Azriel?" your voice echoed in his mind, the haunting tone of your voice shaking him.
His body felt as if it were encased in stone, every movement sluggish and strained. No matter how hard he tried to rise from the bed, he could only manage to shift to its edge, his limbs refusing to obey his desperate commands.
In the doorway of his room, you stood, your form bathed in an eerie half-light that cast strange shadows across your face. Fear etched lines of worry into your features, your eyes wide with a terror that mirrored his own.
Something was wrong. You needed to come back to him, back to his arms where it was safe.
"I may not live that long," you cried out, your voice raw with anguish, the sound of it tearing at his soul.
Azriel tried again, ragging his limbs to try to get closer to you. Then in that moment, time itself seemed to warp and twist, as if the hands of fate were turning the clock.
Azriel could only watch in horror as you began to age before his eyes, each passing second drawing lines of time upon your skin. Your once youthful visage contorted and twisted, suddenly you began to wither, flesh peeling away like petals from a dying flower.
Your scream was piercing through his skull, your hands trying to hold onto the pieces of flesh that were burning away until there was nothing left. 
Tears were streaming down his face as Azriel stumbled off his bed, his heart pounding with a frantic urgency. His rapid uncoordinated footsteps matched his heartbeat. He felt drugged. But that didn’t matter, he needed to find you. He ran out of his room into a darkness that seemed to swallow him whole, his voice a desperate plea echoing through the empty halls.
"Come back...please," he cried out, his words carried away by the chilling breeze that surrounded him. Each step he took felt heavier than the last, his limbs weighed down by a crushing weight. "I won't make you wait…please...please," he begged, his voice suffocating with painful emotion.
“Azriel…” he heard a voice.
“Y/n,” he cried out again. But only darkness answered him.
“Azriel! Wake up!” It wasn’t your voice, no, someone was shouting. Someone was shaking him.
Suddenly the darkness faded, and the face of his brother speckled into his vision. Rhys had his hands gripped to the side of Azriel’s face.
Rhys and Mor had stayed up for the night, lounging with some faerie wine, reminiscing as the house slept silently. But then they’d hear screaming, and before they could even move Azriel had stumbled down the hall screeching your name. It was clear to Rhys, that Azriel was entrapped in some disorientating nightmare, and he had used his talons to pull him from the deathly grips of the dream.
“It’s a dream brother, only a dream” he tried to reassure him.
But Azriel’s eyes were searching, looking for you. 
Azriel was slumped on the floor, his knees under him. Rhys and Mor pulled him against a wall, hoping the cool stone would bring him to his senses. His shadows were frantically buzzing around him. Attempting but failing to console him.
“Where is y/n?” he managed to choke out.
Not here, not here, not here. His shadows whispered in his ear.
Mor stepped forward, concern on her face “She’s with Orion. You know this…” she spoke softly.
Slowly slivers of reality seemed to sink into place. His dream had felt like eternity, and yet it had only been a few hours since you had all left Rita’s. 
No you hadn’t left, you had stayed. Stayed with him, stayed with Orion.
He had been too late. Too late to find the courage, too late to speak his truth.
That male. Orion, had found you on the dance floor. Ensnared your attention for the evening, had charmed you. Charmed you enough that you hadn’t returned with your family, that you had stayed to seek the comfort of him that night.
Not Azriel. He had been too late.
Azriel had curled in on himself, knees brought to his chest as sobs began to rack through his body. The talons of the nightmare still clung to him, dragging him back into its clutches. Senseless words left his lips, your name rolling off his tongue repetitively.
"I was too late…" he cried, his voice choking with anguish. "Rhys, you have to save her… she… her face… Rhys… she was dying."
“I think you might need to call for y/n, Rhys,” Mor suggested, her concern evident as she crouched near Azriel. He was trapped in a dreamlike state, caught between the realms of reality and imagination. When she reached out to touch him, he only flinched away, lost in his own torment.
Azriel was drenched in sweat, his body burning with fever as he struggled to distinguish between what was real and what was not. As much as Rhys tried, Azriel’s mind was a mess. He couldn’t decipher what was right in front of him and what was in his mind. 
To him you were gone, he’d seen it with his own eyes. He had failed you. 
"What's going on?" Your voice cut through the tense air, drawing the attention of Mor and Rhys.
You stood in the doorway of the lounge, your hair tousled and your nightgown askew as if someone had forcefully dragged you from the depths of your own dreams. In fact that is exactly what had happened. Azriel’s shadows were circling you, pulling and tugging you relentlessly, just as they had awoken you.
You could tell from their desperate plea something was wrong, and it had only taken you a matter of seconds to run from your room.
"We thought... I thought you'd gone home with—" Rhys began, but you shook your head, your expression filled with concern as you took in Azriel's state. Without hesitation, you moved quickly to kneel beside him.
You could have gone home with Orion, almost did. Was tempted, but there was something about the way Azriel had looked at you as they all departed for the night that had gnawed at you. A look of a broken male. His expression, a mixture of sadness…and well, longing. It was confusing.
And unfair. He had rejected you after all.
Yet, there was a vulnerability in his gaze that you couldn’t ignore. Despite his rejection, your heart ached for him. After an hour in Orion's company at the bar, you couldn't shake the feeling of unease. So you called it a night and came home.
It had been a long time since you’d seen Azriel caught in a state like this. Azriel didn’t sleep much, but when he did there had been a few times in your years of knowing him that he'd find himself trapped in the liminal space between dreams and reality.
“Hey Az…” you moved to the space in front of him, crouching between the space of his kness. His eyes were skittish, looking at you but through you. It was as if he didn't register your presence at all, trapped in a world of his own making.
“I waited too long…” he breathed out, his fingers tangled in his hair pulling and ragging at the strands.
“Azriel,” you spoke gently but firmly, your voice a lifeline in the darkness that engulfed him. You needed to coax him out of this. “It wasn’t real, only a dream”
A torrent of incomprehensible words spilled from his lips, and you exchanged a glance with Rhys and Mor, who stood nearby, frozen in place. 
Over the centuries of being part of this family, you'd all encountered moments like these. Moments where the nightmares and traumas racked over you. However, Azriel had always been more private about his inner turmoil. You realised that this might be the first time Rhys and Mor had witnessed this part of him.
It wasn’t your first time, though. One of the earliest moments you realised you loved Azriel was after he had helped you through a debilitating nightmare, one that had left you screaming in your sleep. From then on, he had always been there to offer comfort in those dark moments. 
And you had always been there for him in return.
“I’ve got this…” you reassured them with a soft smile, and they nodded, reluctantly leaving the room. They didn’t want to abandon Azriel in such a state, but they trusted you, trusted that you would only ask this of them if it was for Azriel’s best interest.
You waited for them to leave, the room enveloped in a heavy silence, save for Azriel's incoherent whispers that echoed off the walls.
“I was too late…” he repeated, his voice strained.
“Hmmm were you? What were you late for Azriel?” Again you voice, firm but sweet resounding through the room. 
He blinked, finally recognising your presence. His brows furrowed as tears streamed down his face.
“I lost you, I was too late” he choked out.
“You haven't lost me, Az. I'm right here,” you reassured him, your voice a soothing balm.
But Azriel shook his head, haunted by the vivid memory of seeing you slip away before him.
“Tell him, tell him I’m right here.” You spoke, this time towards his shadows.
She’s here. She’s here. They sang.
Azriel’s eyes fluttered shut for a moment, as he listened to his shadows. They had never deceived him before, always guiding him with honesty. So surely what they were saying was true?
You tilted your head slightly, a soft smile gracing your lips as you reached for his hand. His eyes widened at your touch, but he didn’t recoil. He watched as you gently placed his hand against your chest, just above your heart.
Real, real, real. His shadows continued to sing in his ear. Their own feather-light touches caressing his body, cooling him down.
He could feel the steady rhythm of your heartbeat beneath his touch.
Ba-bump, ba-bump, ba-bump. The vibrations of your heart were sobering under his palm. And there was something about the way this felt, so different to the version of you in his dream. Everything was heightened, every sense felt multiplied.
“I’m real Az, and I’m here. It was just a dream, okay?”
Azriel felt a shaky breath leave his lips as his own breathing synced with yours. His rapid heartbeat gradually slowed to match the steady rhythm of yours.
You weren’t gone. But you had chosen someone else. 
“But…but you chose someone else,” he sputtered out.
You weren’t sure what he meant. Whether this someone else was what he had dreamed of, or if he meant Orion. But you leaned forward, drawing closer until your faces were mere inches apart, so close that he wouldn’t be able to look away.
“I’ll always choose you, Azriel.” It was the truth. You knew he needed to hear this, he needed reassurance to pull him from the grasp of his nightmare, but it was also unequivocally true. You would always choose him.
You had tonight.
In the opportunity of comfort and pleasure of another, you had chosen Azriel. Even in his rejection. Even if that made you a fool. You would always choose him.
“Really?”
“Always.”
You both sat there for a while, Azriel syncing his breathing to yours as the cloudiness of his vision cleared and he began to feel reality pinching him. It felt so real, that nightmare. A version of his future he never wanted to face.
“I’m sorry,” he whispered, gently moving his hand from your chest as embarrassment seemed to finally wash over him.
“Don’t ever apologise for this, Az,” you spoke softly.
“No,” he shook his head. “I just mean I’m sorry for everything, for hurting you before, for not seeing what was right in front of me all along, for not being honest…”
Your brows furrowed as you looked at him, but you let him speak.
“I’ve been trying to find the right words to say to you for the past six months.” He laughed then, not the laugh you loved. A self-deprecating laugh that made your chest ache. “I had six months to find the right words, and I was still too late…” he trailed off, his voice heavy.
“Ever since Mor introduced you almost four centuries ago, you’ve had me mesmerised. I thank the stars every day you came into my life…”
You thanked the stars everyday for him too.
“Azriel, I feel the same…” you began, but he interrupted you.
“No, I don’t think you understand, y/n. I adore you. I’ve always adored you.” Azriel's voice wavered slightly as he spoke, his hands trembling as he reached out to take yours. 
He hesitated with his words, still struggling to find the right way to say this. You felt the roughness of his scars against your soft skin, but it was welcome, you had always found his hands beautiful. His touch, comforting. 
Right now though, something felt different. 
The way Azriel was looking at you was unlike anything you had seen before. It was as if he was seeing you for the first time, truly seeing you.
“You are so wonderful, so beautiful, smart, hilarious. You’re the best of all of us.”
You weren’t sure how to respond, it was a notion your family had always told you. Azriel through the years, claiming that statement more times than you could count. But this time the words felt different, they weighed heavier, they revealed so much more. And you feel your cheeks heating under his intense stare.
“You are. You’re the best of us, better than me. Too good for me.”
“Azriel…” you said softly,
“That’s why your confession came as a shock, I just never considered myself good enough for you. Never thought I’d be the kind of male worthy of you.”
You felt your throat tighten at the idea. The thought that Azriel had never considered himself good enough for you, when he was exactly everything you wanted and needed.
“I’ve been deflecting my feelings for years, ignoring them, because I didn’t think I deserved you…”
Azriel's hand tightened around yours, his thumb tracing soothing circles on your skin.
"But I don't want to waste any more time," he confesses, his voice barely above a whisper. “I know you were with Orion–”
“There’s no one else,” you cut him off quickly, the realisation dawning on you. A realisation of what was happening, what your dear friend was admitting. Something you had hoped and wished for so long.
Your heart was now the rapid one and you could feel it beating through your chest. 
"If there's a chance for us, I want us to take it." Azriel concluded, his confession final.
"Really, Az?" your bottom lip quivered slightly, your eyes becoming glassy as tears threatened to spill.
"Really, my love."
“I love you…” The words tumbled from your lips, soft and heartfelt.
With gentle strength, he pulled you into his embrace, your head finding its place in the curve of his neck. He inhaled deeply, savouring the familiar scent of you.
“I love you more than words can express, more than you may ever realise,” he whispered, his voice brimming with tenderness. “And I promise to make up for lost time.”
You leaned back slightly, your eyes meeting his. A soft smile was on his lips, one you gave back, as a tear rolled down your cheek. He moved gently then, leaning down to press a tender kiss where the salty tear had escaped. 
Then, as if drawn by an invisible force, a force he had ignored for hundreds of years, his lips found yours in a long-awaited embrace. Time seemed to slow as you shared that kiss, your lips melting into one another. Finally, the kiss seemed to speak of. 
This was it. 
This would be enough, because this was everything.
fin.
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a/n: Sorry to make you all wait so long for this! I was in a really bad writing slump, and wasn't sure how to make this work, still not 100% on it but hey-ho (but thank you to my love, @illyrianbitch for her continuous support every time I changed my mind and scrapped an idea lol, and to @milswrites for her lovely words that helped me get out of my slump) Anyway I hope you all got the ending you wanted ;) but yeah let me know if you want any one-shots from these two! I'd be happy to explore their dynamic a little more if you've got a scenario in mind <3
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Forever tags: @lilah-asteria @illyrianbitch @milswrites @sleepylunarwolf @daily-dose-of-sass @alittlelostalittlefound @amberlynn98 @marscardigan
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countingdots-tc · 5 months
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TEACHER/STUDENT BOOK RECS
*if you want me to add a forbidden romance list, let me know*
𓃠 This is a list with links to books that have teacher/student, age gap, and experienced/less experienced themes that I have read! These are in order from most recommended to least recommended based on my opinion.
𓃠 This will be updated as I read more! Think something should be added to the list, then let me know!
𓃠 To find the Age Gap/TeacherxStudent Movie list, click on the link on my pinned post!
⭐️= highly recommend/changed my life
😇= no smut
🌶️=contains smut
💦=read to really get your rocks off
highlighted=warning
PROFESSOR/COACH BOOK LIST
The Unrequited by Saffron A. Kent-⭐️😇
ProfessorxStudent & mental health themes
Cute little poet embarrassingly falls for her grumpy professor. Beautiful slow burn and perfectly describes what it feels like to want someone and not feel enough for them. She is such a realistic female lead and reminds me a lot of y’all 😂. This is THE teacher crush community book. If you don’t read anything read this!!
The Professor by Invi Wright-⭐️🌶️
ProfessorxStudent
Cute romance by young, new, and self published author. Very relatable female lead. If you enjoyed The Unrequited, you will like this book for all of the same reasons. Quick and easy read, only 240. She isn’t perfect, she clumsy, and I wouldn’t even say she’s socially awkward, she just a normal college student in her early 20s. She’s a fun narrator. This author has a lot of potential and her writing will only get better.
Gabriel’s Inferno by Slyvain Reynard-⭐️😇
ProfessorxStudent
Such a good dark academia book. Beautifully written and actually has a movie adaptation. I would definitely recommend this if you want a realistic couple but a bit more serious. Characters have so much depth
Off Balance Series by Lucia Franco- 💦
CoachxStudent
Warning: female lead is age of consent NOT legal age.
If you want something really forbidden and fucked up, read this. If you want the MOST insane sex scenes, read this (MINORS STOP). I really don’t even want to add this series to this list but for the girls who wanna go there, have fun. I started this when I was still in high school, read the 3rd one as an adult, it’s not as easy to read now. Take that info as you please
Lessons In Sin by Pam Goodwin-🌶️
TeacherxStudent with 18 Y.O female lead
Troubled rich girl gets sent off to a catholic boarding school and falls for the asshole Dean of the school. Smut is pretty good, plot works. I’m not going to say it’s bad, I think whether or not it’s enjoyable depends on the person. It wasn’t bad, I just wasn’t obsessed. If you’re just trying to live vicariously through her (aren’t we all), then it works!
Teach Me by L. L. Ash-🌶️
ProfessorxStudent
Really good start, and I do mean GREAT start… I just feel like the sex scene came too soon (Ch. 9/32) and it threw me off but I also like SUPER slow burns. It’s still a good book. I enjoyed the male love interest, Professor Harlo. They’re cute together. Grump and Sunshine.
Dark Notes by Pam Goodwin-
TeacherxStudent & themes of abuse
Probably DNF-ing
AGE GAP BOOK LIST
Something In The Way Series by Jessica Hawkins-⭐️😇
Sister’s Boyfriend/Husband & “I saw him first”
Most beautiful romance series I’ve ever read, best written books by Jessica Hawkins. I recommend all of her other books. Lake is 16 when she first meets Manning but nothing sexual happens between them for another 3 books until she’s in her 20s. Beautiful slow burn with characters full of depth.
Sinner by Sierra Simone- ⭐️💦
Brother’s Best Friend & religious themes
Amazing character creation and mapping. These characters feel real! This book is about “teaching” a girl about sex before she becomes a nun. It’s not just a bang bang, hump hump book. It has heart and it really good. If you enjoy religious themed romance, you may enjoy Priest by Sierra Simone too. I didn’t 💀
Birthday Girl by Penelope Douglas- 💦
Ex’s Dad
Most popular forbidden romance so whatever you’ve heard about it, dump it. This might be the most tame book on this list. Pacing is good, well written main character. Insane amounts of smut but it doesn’t drive the story forward so feel free to skip it if you get tired.
Love Unexpected by Q. B. Tyler- 💦
Ex Stepdad & parent death
This book is HOT! However after the first few scenes, I got a bit tired of the smut. Well written enough female lead with a rushed ending. However if you just need something to read and not despise it, it’s good enough.
Strictly Off Limits by Jessica Hawkins-🌶️
Dad’s Best Friend
Jessica is my favorite author so I’m a bit biased but she definitely isn’t a smut writer. This novella would’ve been better without smut however it isn’t super present and doesn’t really drive the story forward so don’t feel like you’re missing anything if you skip the smut!
The Doctor by Nikki Sloane- 💦
Ex’s Dad
personally didn’t care for this book, smut starts off way too quick and I’m more of a slow burn girl. It is a novella however, it was still too quick. However! You may love it <3
𓃠 If I’m not reading fast enough for you and you want to see what I will be reading in the future here is my Amazon TBR, have at it!
𓃠 If you want to see a more organized bookshelf of what I’ve read, here is my Goodreads!
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kaeyachi · 2 months
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some kaeya facts that i want to remind everyone with because I miss him so much! (no angst this time i swear!!...but if you all want angst, I could also deliver hehehe)
1. Kaeya tells the children of Mondstadt some stories! Specifically, one that some forgot or didn't know of is that he has told the orphans under the church's care some horror story about the light in the lamp posts :D He had been shown to do a story telling to Klee while at the Veluriyam Mirage and he has also been reading to Klee her bedtime stories as well
2. Kaeya made Klee's survival rules! Kaeya has definitely done his part on preventing Klee from destroying Mondstadt before Celestia ever could (well, at least lessened the amount of times Mond gets bombed anyway). Anyone else think Kaeya purposely let Klee explode the Good Hunter's stove to avoid going to the Chasm? No? Ok-
3. He takes the attention when he dances! Depending on which language you hear it from, it is either a good or a bad thing. However, I am on team good thing simply because some mercenaries invited him to go dancing with them while he was in Sumeru ( very interesting information, Kaeya! Glad to know they found you so attractive that they did something they don't usually do!)
4. If you call him kind, he will attempt to look mean (and he fails at it lmao), and if he is not being mean, he will try to deny it. The traveler once listed down the kind things he had done for Captain Wu, a Liyue npc, and Kaeya proceeds to tell us that he records people who owe him (which is a lie. He forgot the person he helped TWICE. What he does have a record of is a well-detailed list of Treasure Hoarders and their rankings + patrol areas in Mondstadt). Another instance was during Jean's story quest where Kaeya planned the appreciation party for Jean where he gave the traveler all the credit
5. He is a great gift giver! (unless that person is Diluc because otherwise he will find the ugliest thing ever and gift that... arguably, that kinda sounds like amazing gift giving if we are talking about being an annoying sibling). He remembers passing commentary from friends and coworkers and gifts them accordingly.
6. He has his own intel network (and I'm theorizing that it is just a group of people he has helped before that insisted on paying him back in this way). Kaeya, after some heavy insistence from Captain Wu, asks him if he wants to be a friend or be part of his intel network and follow his commands no matter what. Vile, one of his known informants, also gave us a glimpse as to what it takes to be part of Kaeya's network, and that is the ability to decipher codes and read messages in between.
7. He is incredibly reliable as a knight! Not only do the people of Mondstadt agree that he is the more approachable cavalry captain between him and Diluc, but it is also a known fact that Kaeya has never failed to complete a mission to date (except the one during Diluc's 18th). Nearly every citizen of Mondstadt adores him and knows how reliable he is. Arguably, this success rate could be attributed to his "end justifies the means" mindset that not all find enjoyable, but he is definitely the person to ask if you want something done. Vile has once mentioned that she could just ask Kaeya to do the charming and convincing for her, dubbing him as a prince charming for it.
8. He is one of the people who spends so much time with Klee (potentially attributed by the fact that he also has more free time compared to others). He spends so much time with her that Klee mentions a few interesting things about Kaeya, such as the fact that Albedo draws Kaeya frequently (enough times that Albedo says Kaeya could be drawn by him easily. yes, it's that "three strokes" line lmao) and the fact that Kaeya has saved Klee from solitary confinement a lot. He is shown to be a very effective person when it comes to corralling Klee without making her feel bad as even when he was trying to berate her, he still ended up giving her a possible reward if she listens.
9. He is very meticulous. He willingly spends the time to get himself ready in the clothes that he is wearing, and he likes embellishments. He really is quite the perfectionist in his actions as well. (very Alberich of him!✌️) We can also see this in his handwriting that has been described as "beautiful" and again with his near perfect track record as a knight.
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etheries1015 · 5 months
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In memory of the Apology Mug Story (and because I walked past a super old building recently; guess what it had on the facade)
Reader who knows how to carve rocks into specific forms and is very skilled in it makes Malleus a gargoyle for his birthday. He's so happy he ends up accidentally confessing his love to them.
Bonus points if that was Lilia's idea because he got tired of seeing them dance around each other and wanted things to happen already
This is really cute <3 for those who aren't certain what the apology mug story is; the link to that is Here!
A special birthday present for our favorite draconic prince <3
Being in Ramshackle with a limited amount of entertainment (being unable to afford many electronics) you had to resort to other forms of entertainment. Reading, cooking, sewing, board games, long walks outside, musical instruments, and your most recent of endeavors; rock carving. You had learned a few things here and there from Malleus, he was an avid crafter of gargoyles within his club and was more than happy to teach you a thing or two. Although most of your attempts seemed to fail in his eyes, you were actually secretly incredibly skilled at this. You were leaving your skills to set up a surprise present for the fae for his birthday; January 18th.
It wasn't hard to figure out what you were planning on doing for his birthday, Malleus was incredibly easy to read. Although money was scarce for you, using your skills to handmake something would be much more worth receiving than any amount of money could pay for. At least, that's what Malleus had said when you inquired what he would like at his celebration.
"A present is not necessary," He told you with a graceful smile, "Bring yourself, and your smile. That is enough for me." ...you were not going to take that as the final verdict, thus began your journey to create a gift he was surely going to enjoy.
His birthday came upon you, and your gift was finally completed. You did not hesitate to rush over to Diasomnia for the celebration, bringing over two things; A homemade ice cream cake, and your gift box. The cake was pretty much the start of Malleus's excitement, ice cream cakes exist?! It wasn't common in Twisted Wonderland much to your surprise, so sharing your handmade cake with his enjoyment of icecream implemented already sent him over the moon. The joy that was written all over his face was the easiest text to read, soon pouring out of his mouth in a theatric novel after unwrapping his second gift from you- two gargoyles. They were miniature and made for décor less than actual function, however, his excitement seemed to explode off the tip of his tongue.
His bright green eyes were sparkling, his mouth ajar, and a blush painted across his pale cheeks.
"It's us! See, one has your horns and the other-" Malleus immediately wrapped you into his embrace, much to the protest of Sebek nearby, yet the smiles of amusement of Silver and Lilia quickly hushed the student. It seemingly seemed the words held inside had burst at the seams, and Malleus had begun setting free the things he had been eager to share for some time now.
"I am in pure infatuation with you," Malleus blurted out, "I have not received a gift so heartfelt and beautiful," it almost sounded like he was holding back tears of happiness.
"Two gargoyles representing you and I, shall I take this as a declaration that you wish to be my pair?" He did not await your response, the tall fae was already shooting off at the mouth. "I reciprocate. Your beautiful craftmanship will forever be my treasure, next to you, of course." You could not hide the clear redness from your face, and the dumb smile that planted permanently at his sudden confession.
"it's about time!" Lilia laughed, "Now, let us celebrate not only our prince's birthday but also the union between these two lovebirds!" Malleus pulled away from the hug and smiled again at the gargoyles you intricately designed, turning to face his dormmates.
"Yes, let us resume the festivities. We shall celebrate all night long, this will be a birthday well worth remembering. Come now, my dearest." Setting down the Gargoyles in a safe place, he grabbed hold of your hand dragging you into the joyful celebration <3
Happy birthday, Malleus!!
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the-greatest-8 · 19 days
Text
Obi-wan has had visions before, even when he was in the creche. It was a simple fact by now. Master Yoda had even offered comfort before, after a particularly difficult one. Obi-wan was well aware the risk of reading too far into them- because that simply wasn't how they worked. 'Always in motion, the future is.' Obi-wan knew this.
However- Obi-wan had one vision, one, that he hoped so desperately would become true. It always started the same, he would feel so light, so free- It was a comfort he has clung to in his darkest moments. He would be in bed, warm, and content. He would hear the sound of rustling next to him, before arms would wrap around him. Obi-wan always remembers how he sinks into, how he'd fall back asleep. That's how the vision always ends. It was never enough- not enough information.
Obi-wan wanted so deeply to know how to make that vision real. He knew it wasn't proper; He was just a man though, he tried so hard to follow all the rules- but oh, how he wanted. That feeling never left, even during the war he was in now. If anything, it made him wish even more, for a warmth to keep him grounded around all the deaths. Around all the sorrow after battle, Obi-wan just wanted to feel safe, like in the vision.
It wasn't often, he wouldn't mope, not when he was needed at his best. It was moments like this, however, when the desires in him felt suffocating. The last mission him and his men went on was successful, very successful. Morale was high, and so a stop into town to celebrate was made.
Obi-wan had been corralled into joining, as had Cody. It was enjoyable, even, he drank plenty with his men as they all laughed and told stories. Obi-wan was even sporting a buzz, he was happy, he had realized. Here, with his men, next to his loyal Commander. It made him pause for a second, surprised. Cody, vigilant as ever, took notice and sent him a look, feeling questioning in the force.
Obi-wan smiled at Cody, "I'm fine, Commander, I simply was surprised at something." Obi-wan said exasperatedly. Cody hummed, "If you don't mind me asking General, what was it?" He asked, and sipped his drink. Obi-wan huffed, "I just realized I'm enjoying myself, that's all my dear." He says. Cody smiled then, a soft expression that momentarily made Obi-wans heart flutter.
"I'm glad, sir, we've all noticed you've been tense." Cody said, his worry in the Force being replaced with a soothed, content feeling- and the gentle flames of fondness. Obi-wan almost stuttered, his face flushing slightly. Obi-wan felt warm, his heart raced while he worked on keeping his face straight.
The Force was entirely unhelpful, almost mockingly it made him more aware of how soothing Cody feels to him. Obi-wan decided then he was far to sober for this, and ordered another drink. He doesn't remember a single thing after.
Obi-wan awoke feeling warm, and content, surprisingly without a hangover too. He must have filtered his blood through the force before bed, he thinks distantly. He was sleepy, not entirely certain what woke him, so he just let himself feel. He was floating in soft feelings, he felt light and free, his troubles seemed all the more distant. Obi-wan doesn't remember feeling like this, not in a long while at least. Obi-wan hears rustling next to him, and before he can panic about another person in his bed, strong arms wrap around him and pull him close. "Go back to sleep, General.." a half asleep Cody mutters, before he fully succumbs to his rest once more. Obi-wan pauses, his heart thudding in his chest, and face ablaze.
Obi-wan decides this is a dilemma for future Obi-wan, and sinks into the embrace. He fleetingly thinks about his vision, but is unable to put more thought into it as he drifts off once more. A smile on his lips.
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Authors note-
Honestly I'm not sure I'm happy with this one. Maybe I'll try again later, but I had to write my idea down or I wouldn't be able to to remember it lol. Hope you like it 😊.
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sunshinesteviee · 2 years
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call it what you want - s.h.
summary: you find yourself on the edge of friendship and something more with steve at a halloween party. for @sparklingsin's spookinktober writing challenge with the prompt "quick, switch costumes with me!" wc: 8.1k wtf warnings: friends to lovers. alcohol consumption. smut!!! 18+!!! f!reader. a/n: this is the longest thing i've ever written and it killed me lol i hope y'all like it. feedback is much appreciated! love u sm. also huge shoutout to @sparklingsin and @familyvideostevie for reading this and helping me out and listening to me complain about this gd fic for weeks i love u so much thanks for putting up w me
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Parties weren’t Steve’s thing. Not anymore, anyway. And Halloween parties in particular were definitely crossed off the list, especially after everything that had happened with Nancy a few years ago. He was over Nancy, they were even friends now, but something about the idea of going to another Halloween party stirred up a sick feeling in Steve’s stomach that he wanted to run from. Somehow, though, Robin had managed to convince him that it would be fun. 
Really, it hadn’t taken much convincing on Robin’s part — all she had to do was mention you, and Steve was in, though he’d never admit that to her. It was stupid, she thought, the way the two of you were constantly pining for each other, but refusing to do anything about it. She’d heard enough lovesick complaints from her best friends, and decided she’d take it into her own hands. And Halloween seemed like the perfect opportunity. She wasn’t quite sure how yet, but she was sure the night would end at the very least with confessions. She’d make sure of it. 
And so, Steve was two drinks deep in a crowded house, filled with more regret than beer. Robin had somehow disappeared after one drink, Eddie was nowhere in sight, and he still had yet to see you. Maybe you’d decided not to come. If so, the whole night would be a waste. He hadn’t missed parties one bit. The stuffy, crowded rooms filled with sweaty bodies pressed against each other as music pounded in his ears, pulsing lights making his head throb. 
It didn’t used to be so bad. He used to be the keg king, down shot after shot, maybe get lucky, and still wake up the next day more or less fine. Now, two drinks usually did him in, and he didn’t always like the feeling of being drunk. Of being out of control. To be fair, he’d taken quite a few beatings that had definitely fucked with his head since he’d last been to a proper party. But parties just weren’t enjoyable anymore. Especially when all of his friends had disappeared, and he didn’t know anyone surrounding him. 
Tipping the last of his drink into his mouth, Steve crushed the red plastic cup in his hand and tossed it into the trash can nearby that was already almost overflowing. A familiar laugh sounded behind him, a sweet sound above the loud bass, “Whoa there, champ. How many drinks have you had?!”
Steve already had a smile on his face as he turned around, and his jaw nearly hit the floor at the sight of you. You hadn’t ditched. And better yet, you looked fucking gorgeous. He let out an adoring laugh, eyebrows furrowing together, forehead wrinkling as he asked, “Champ?”
“Your costume, silly,” you nodded towards his outfit as you reached out, placing your warm palm against his bicep. Without thinking, Steve leaned into your touch, stepping in closer to you, his hand grazing your hip slightly. 
Since it had been a last-minute decision, and since he wasn’t fond of Halloween anyways, Steve had decided to pull his baseball uniform from high school out of his closet. It fit a little tighter than it used to, but would work well enough for one night. The ugly green and orange baseball jersey was tucked into a pair of baseball pants, and he’d even tucked his wild hair underneath a Hawkins high baseball hat. Steve’s cheeks flushed with embarrassment, the soft pink obvious on his pale skin, even in the dim lighting of the house. “Oh, right. Yeah, I think I kinda… knocked it out of the park with this one.”
The snort that left your mouth had Steve smiling again as you clapped a hand over your mouth, “Oh my god. That was fucking awful, Steve. It does look good, though. Can’t believe you’d ruin all of your pretty hair under that hat.”
Steve flushed again, a common occurrence that he couldn’t help when he was around you, and shrugged, “What can I say? I’m dedicated to the costume. I like your costume, too, by the way; you look nice.”
Your eyes lit up at his compliment as you bounced on the balls of your feet nervously, “Yeah? Thanks, Stevie.” You were wearing a short shirt that had “Camp Crystal Lake” printed across the chest, with a picture of a lake underneath it, and a pair of red shorts that were also nearly too short; you were a counselor from one of your favorite horror movies, Friday the 13th. Quite frankly, the costume fit you perfectly, accentuating all of your best features, and you weren’t oblivious to the way his eyes had caught on you when he’d first turned around. 
“Yeah! That’s a great movie.”
“I thought you didn’t like horror movies?” you questioned, a teasing tone lacing your words. You and Eddie had had to convince him more than once to watch a horror movie on one of your movie nights, and he usually hid underneath a blanket for more than half the movie. 
“Well, no,” Steve huffed, crossing his arms over his chest as he narrowed his eyes at you, “But I’ve seen that one, and it wasn’t bad. Do you want a drink?"
When you quickly agreed, Steve’s hand left your back as he pulled back from you. Before you could mourn the warmth of his hand on your skin, though, his hand was reaching toward yours. “C’mon then, babe.”
Without a second thought, your hand slipped into his, fingers slotting together easily. Steve started pulling you through the crowd, weaving between bodies skillfully. The grip he had on your hand, though gentle, was firm, as if you’d be lost forever if he let go. As if the crowds of people would swallow you whole and carry you away from him. He glanced back a few times to make sure you were alright, flashing you a small smile every single time his eyes caught yours. 
The alcohol was finally starting to hit Steve, making him feel a bit lighter, though maybe it was just from being near you. Your hand in his was enough to make him feel tipsy. To have him questioning if it was real. He definitely didn’t need to have another drink, not if you were going to be holding his hand like your life depended on it. It wasn’t an uncommon occurrence, to be close to you, but the alcohol had his senses dialed up. Steve knew that if he wasn’t careful, he might let his real feelings for you slip, and he didn’t want to risk the friendship you had. 
Steve shook his head in an attempt to clear it, though the alcohol was making it a bit difficult, and refocused back on you. He gave you a lopsided smile, working to untangle his fingers from yours, “Whaddya want, cutie? Punch? I had two cups and it’s kinda strong because I’m definitely starting to feel it, and—”
“I’ll have punch!” You’d listen to him ramble for hours, but the kitchen was even more packed than the room you’d just been in. You didn’t see Steve drunk, or even tipsy, often, and you adored the way his face flushed red and he started rambling. He’d clearly had just enough to have him feeling good, not enough to tip him over the edge, and it was endearing the way he seemed to let go a little bit. 
Not wanting to be away from your side for too long, Steve hurried across the kitchen to get a cup and fill it with punch for you. He pushed by a few people on his way back, trying to be gentler than the asshole who had pushed you, and frowned as some of the drink spilled over the edge of the cup and ran down his fingers. The pout was still on his lips as he approached you, holding the cup out, “Sorry, didn’t mean to spill it. Here you go, babe.” 
Taking the cup from him carefully, you smiled gratefully, glad that you hadn’t been the one to cross the kitchen, “Thanks, Stevie. You didn’t get one for yourself?”
“Nah, if I have more I’ll be suffering tomorrow,” he replied. As he talked, Steve lifted his hand that was now covered in the sticky punch, and slipped one of his fingers into his mouth to clean it off. Heat rushed to your cheeks and you stared in disbelief as Steve did it again with another finger. This time, he caught the look on your face and his own eyes went wide as he stared at you in confusion, completely oblivious, “What?”
You nearly choked on your drink, and you quickly shook your head, turning away from Steve so he wouldn’t see the reaction you were having. There was no doubt you were attracted to Steve — how could you not be? He was kind and funny and brave, and treated you better than anyone else ever had. The problem was, he wasn’t your boyfriend, and you were fairly certain he had no intention of that. He was a nice guy to everyone.  Just because he called you babe or cutie from time to time, and held your hand or shared blankets with you… that didn’t mean he was interested, and you’d done your best to shove those feelings down. You didn’t want to lose Steve’s friendship above all else, so if you had to pretend your feelings for him were strictly platonic, you could do that. But watching him lick his fingers clean sparked something in your stomach, and made your face feel hot. To be fair, you had already downed a shot with Nancy while the two of you were getting ready, so maybe you could just blame the way your thighs clenched on the alcohol. 
Instead of responding, you downed half the cup of punch just in time for Steve to look back at you, a grin breaking out on his face as he chanted teasingly, “Chug, chug, chug!” 
You nearly choked again, this time as you laughed, sputtering some of the red liquid out of your mouth, “Steve!” You wiped the back of your hand across your mouth to catch the drops sliding down your chin with a giggle, “Stop itttt.”
“Hey!” Steve’s pout matched yours, eyes narrowing at you, bottom lip pushing out, “How come you can tease me when I’m drinking but I can’t tease you?”
Your eyes may have lingered too long on Steve’s lips as he pouted, but he didn’t notice with the way he was unabashedly returning the favor as your tongue darted out to catch the last of the punch that had spilled past your lips. You wondered what his lips would feel like against yours. If they were as soft as they looked. If he was as good a kisser as the girls from high school claimed. You shook your head, desperately trying to focus so you could answer Steve’s question instead of gawk at him, “No, it’s not allowed.” 
Steve laughed hysterically as his arms wrapped over your shoulders so he could pull you into him. He got even more affectionate than normal when he’d had some alcohol. Pressing his lips to your hair, he shook his head, but was totally sincere as he replied, “Okay, fine! I’ll never make fun of you again, cutie. Promise.  Should we find Robin? Or maybe Nancy and Jonathan?” 
His words had you feeling like you were on fire once more, but you quickly agreed, needing to find someone else to get your mind off of Steve. To think of something other than SteveSteveSteveSteve. Your cheek pressed into the rough fabric of the jersey he was wearing, and you nodded against his chest, “Yeah, let’s go find them.” 
“Wait,” he paused, fingers wrapping around your arm as you tried to pull away from his grasp, “you still have…” His sentence trailed off as he licked the pad of his thumb before placing his free hand against your cheek, fingers slipping into the hair just behind your ear. His thumb pressed to your chin, rubbing across your skin carefully in an attempt to get rid of the last of the punch that you’d spilled. Steve’s hand slid down, fingers hooking underneath your chin as his thumb dragged down, pulling on your bottom lip slightly, and you thought for a moment that he was going to kiss you then and there, his eyes flashing with something you hadn’t seen in them before. But as quickly as it came, it disappeared, and Steve was back to his tipsy, bubbly self, “Got it!”
You felt absolutely breathless, frozen in place as Steve pulled away searching the crowd for anyone he recognized. “You coming or what, babe?” 
“I, uh–” you shook your head to clear it and moved towards Steve, “Yeah, ‘m coming.” 
Finding Robin seemed to be a lost cause, but Nancy and Jonathan had been easy to find, talking to some of Nancy’s friends from high school, drinks in hand. And after talking for a bit, it didn’t take much to pull your friends away to dance with you. You immediately grabbed Steve, feeling bolder than you normally would be, and pulled him into you, chest to chest. 
Steve’s heart thudded in his chest as his hands grabbed at your hips at the same time, fingers pressing lightly into the soft skin there as you swayed to the music. Had he been sober and more aware of what he was really doing, he probably would’ve been much more flustered with the way you were pressed up against him. And, had he been sober, he would’ve seen the look Nancy and Jonathan were exchanging knowingly, with Nancy in on Robin’s plan. 
Robin found you a bit later, the sound of your name being called over the music was enough to get your attention, and you quickly stopped dancing next to Nancy to search the crowd of people surrounding you. It wasn’t hard to find Robin, who was already pretty tall and was wearing heels for her costume. You grinned at her, throwing your arms out to her for a hug as you shrieked her name, “Robin!”
“Hey, hot stuff!” she replied, wrapping you up in her arms, careful of the drink in her hand, “Where have you beeeen? I’ve been looking for you everywhere!”
You scoffed, “Stevie and I have been dancing. Thought maybe you weren’t here,” you said, pushing your bottom lip out into a pout. 
“I am! I have been the whole time!” she laughed like it was the funniest thing in the world, “I’m glad I found you! We’re gonna play a game!” She paused and turned to point at Steve who had been watching the two of you, “You too, dingus! You’re gonna play, too.”
“What? No, Robin, I don’t—”
“Please, Stevie?” you asked, cutting him off with wide, pleading eyes, even though you had no idea what the game actually was, or who you’d be playing with. 
The alcohol Steve had consumed was now starting to wear off, while it seemed like it was in full swing for you. Had Robin shown up half an hour ago while he was still feeling tipsy, and was actually dancing with you, he would’ve agreed no problem. Now, as he started to think a bit more clearly, he knew that Robin’s drunk ideas usually weren’t her best, and at the very least, he’d make sure you all didn’t get into too much trouble. And, as always, he couldn’t say no to the look you were giving him. “Okay, okay, fine! I’ll play.”
Reaching out to close the distance between the two of you, your fingers curled around Steve’s bicep to pull him closer. You were giving him the brightest smile he’d ever seen as you leaned into his side, “Yay! C’mon, Harrington.”
The smile that pulled at Steve’s lips was involuntary as your hand pushed down his arm and into his own hand, tugging him behind you as you followed Robin through the house, back to the other side where she’d been beforehand with a few other friends. They weren’t really people you knew – mostly Robin’s friends from band, and Eddie and a few of his friends – but you weren’t going to let that stop you from having fun. 
“Okay!” Robin clapped her hands, drawing the attention of the small group, “Everyone stand up, get in a circle. We’re playing a new game!” 
“What game is it?” Eddie grumbled, ever the contrarian, though he was getting to his feet to do as Robin said. 
Steve had also reluctantly joined the circle, standing at one of Robin’s sides, arms crossed over his chest as he waited impatiently for her to explain what was going on. You couldn’t help but giggle at his sullen expression as you glanced at him from the other side of your friend standing between the two of you. Your laugh caught his attention, and he cracked a smile as he glanced over Robin to look at you, eyebrows furrowing together as if he was asking “What’s so funny?”
You shook your head, pulling your bottom lip between your teeth with a smile as you quickly glanced away, trying to focus on what Robin was saying. Only after you’d listen to half of the “rules” did you realize that this was some kind of speed costume changing game, and you groaned, feeling a bit too tipsy for trying to change quickly. Not only that, but this felt like a game that some boy in high school had come up with in hopes to see the girl he liked half naked. 
“On the count of three, find someone that you want to change costumes with, and then we’ll time everyone! One… two… three!” 
You’d been counting on switching with Robin, considering she was right next to you, and you could probably get into at least some of her clothes. Steve had a similar idea – who else was he going to switch with when he’d already shared clothes with her before? – and turned in her direction. Robin, on the other hand, had a different idea, pointing aggressively at Nancy who was across the circle from her, “Nance! You’re my partner!” She quickly stepped out from between you and Steve and darted over to Nancy without letting her respond. 
At the same time, both you and Steve groaned in frustration, “Robin!” She all but cackled, an evil grin on her face that you knew meant this had been her plan all along. You’d told her about your feelings for Steve, but you never expected her to use that information against you.  
Still, you turned to Steve with a grin, hooking your arm through his to pull him closer to you, “Guess you’re my partner, Harrington! No backing out now!” 
As soon as he realized that partners were being shoved in one of the closets one at a time to change as fast as possible, Steve wished desperately that he could back out. His face burned at just the thought of being in a confined space with you while you took off your clothes. He didn’t have long to think about it, though, as after two other pairs were timed, Robin quickly pushed the two of you in, closing the door behind you and plunging you into complete darkness, except for the small sliver from under the door. 
You and Steve weren’t strangers to being close to one another, but this felt like a new level of intimacy, and Steve didn’t know what to do. His heart was pounding in his ears, so loud he was worried you’d be able to hear it, too, considering how close you were. It didn’t seem to affect you as much, though maybe that was just the alcohol, and you giggled with an urgent whisper, “Quick! Switch costumes with me, Steve! I don’t wanna lose!” With that, you pulled your shirt over your head, nearly elbowing Steve in the face with how fast you were moving. Steve immediately averted his eyes to the dark ceiling, wanting to be a gentleman, though he’d be lying if he said he’d never thought about you shirtless. 
Frustrated with how slow he was moving, you gave his shoulder a weak push, “C’mon, Stevie!”
Steve huffed, amused with how badly you wanted to win, even though he knew it wasn��t going to happen, “Okay, I’m going!” He started unbuttoning the baseball jersey as fast as he could as you started to shove your shorts down your legs, and suddenly his buttons became a lot more interesting, fingers fumbling with the small pieces of plastic. The closet felt scorching hot as he shrugged off the jersey and quickly pulled the  plain white tee he was wearing underneath off as well, shoving it in your direction. “Jesus, babe. Here.”
The shirt you’d been wearing had been quickly dropped to the floor as you pulled Steve’s shirt over your head, immediately engulfed in his scent. He always smelled nice, and this shirt was no exception. As much as you wanted to hug yourself and breathe in Steve’s comforting scent, you also wanted to win, and slipped the jersey on, motioning for Steve to take his pants off next. Your voice was frantic when you spoke again, “Pants! Give ‘em to me!”
The giggling from his friends outside the door was distracting to Steve as he thought of ways he could get back at Robin for this. It was torture, really, being shoved into a small space with the girl he liked while they undressed, but in a situation where he couldn’t touch her without seeming like a perv. He was only snapped out of his thoughts when your hands reached out towards his waist, going for the button on his pants. There was no way he could let that happen, and pushed your hands away, all but shouting, “I got it!”
He quickly shimmied out of his pants and traded them with you for the tiny shorts you’d been wearing. Groaning internally, Steve pulled them up his legs and knew immediately that he looked ridiculous. They barely fit over his thighs, and his ass was nearly hanging out. It was bordering on completely inappropriate to be wearing in public; he might as well just be wearing his boxers with how little it left to the imagination. “These do not fit.”
Just then, you stumbled forward as you tried to get Steve’s baseball pants on, hand catching on his chest for the second time that evening. His hand shot out as if on instinct, grasping at the bare skin of your hip to steady you, even though there wasn’t really any place for you to go. You were giggling like a maniac, breathless as you murmured a thanks and pulled the pants up all the way. It was only as you buttoned the pants that you realized your shirt had dropped on the ground, and you grabbed it, shoving it into his hands, failing at your horrible attempt to avoid looking at his bare chest, “Last one!”
Steve stared at the fabric in his hands skeptically; the shirt was already short on you, there was no way this wasn’t going to be the most extreme crop top anyone had ever seen on him, “I don’t wanna rip it!”
“You won’t!” you reassured him, “‘s okay if you do, anyway. ‘M never gonna wear it again.”
Letting out what was possibly the most dramatic sigh you’d ever heard, Steve pulled your shirt over his head. The fabric stretched around his arms and chest, the hem falling just below his pecs. His entire stomach was exposed, and while it wasn’t exactly what he’d prepared for that night, the smile on your face in the dark made it worth it. 
As your hand reached for the doorknob, Steve realized you were missing one last piece of his costume, “Wait! Can't forget this.” He lifted his hat off of his head and placed it on yours carefully, running his hand through his hair, “Okay, we’re good.”
Your heart fluttered in your chest as he placed his hat on your head, and you nearly dropped everything to kiss him then and there, but the sound of someone laughing outside the door caught your attention. You gave Steve a grin and then pushed the door open, nearly falling over yourself as you shouted, “We’re done! Did we win?!”
Steve’s hand was at your hip again to steady you as he followed you out. He finally felt like he could breathe again. The whole thing couldn’t have taken more than a few minutes, but it felt like he’d spent a lifetime in the closet with you. So close, but so far. 
So wrapped up in his own thoughts, Steve missed everything you and Robin were discussing, until there was a loud wolf whistle from someone else in the group, “Damn, Harrington! Who knew you had all that ass!”
 Without even glancing in the direction of the noise, Steve knew who it was. He flipped his middle finger up but grinned at his friend, “Fuck off, Munson!”
You let out a laugh as you turned to Steve to say something, but you felt like all of the air had been sucked out of your lungs when you finally properly saw Steve. It’d been too dark in the closet to really see what your clothes looked like on Steve, so you were surprised to see how little of your costume actually covered him. His biceps, stomach, and legs were on full display, and somehow, it still wasn’t enough. Your eyes caught on his arms, the small moles and freckles that covered his stomach, and then, the trail of dark hair that disappeared into the waistband of the much-too-short shorts. 
Robin, who was standing next to you, nudged your shoulder, a smirk evident on her face. Her plan was working. You were short-circuiting. Even though your head was feeling less fuzzy due to the alcohol, you might as well have been drunk on Steve. You watched for a few seconds as he found space on the couch to sit down, his cheeks flushed a light pink, and then turned to your friend. 
“Robin!” you hissed her name, grabbing at her elbow to pull her closer to you. You gave her the most menacing glare you could muster, but before you could say anything else, she let out a low giggle. 
She looked quite pleased with herself, leaning in and whispering loudly, “Did anything happen in there?” 
“No! How would that even be possible?” you asked, laughing a little yourself at her ridiculousness. 
“Dunno, but a girl’s gotta try. Still have the rest of the night to make something happen.” 
As much as you didn’t want to give in to Robin’s hand, you were starting to realize that if she was trying this hard to get something to happen between you and Steve, it probably meant that Steve felt something for you too. You narrowed your eyes at her and then huffed, all but stomping away in search of Steve. If something was going to happen, it had to happen before you lost the confidence. 
He was still sitting on the couch, chatting with Eddie, but quickly looked up as you walked over, eyebrows furrowed in concern at your seriousness, “Are you okay?”
“Will you come with me?” you asked instead of answering his question, holding your hand out to him. 
“Yeah, of course,” he replied, still confused, but took your hand in his and stood up, allowing you to lead him away. You weaved in and out of people, trudging up the stairs to find a quieter place to talk. 
When you finally found an empty bathroom, you flicked on the lights and pulled Steve inside, shutting and locking the door behind you so no one would bother you. The music from downstairs had quieted to a dull thud and suddenly the idea of confessing your feelings felt much more daunting in the harsh light of the bathroom. You quickly turned away from Steve to try to take a deep breath, wringing your hands. Steve watched in concern, reaching a hand out to rest on your forearm gently, “Hey, what’s going on? Are you okay? Did something happen?” 
You were just going to have to go for it. Turning around quickly to face him again, you started rambling, “I don’t really know how to say this, so I think I just have to jump into the fucking deep end and say it. Especially since Robin’s getting on my nerves with all of the scheming and smug smiles, which I’m sure you’ve noticed, but if I’m reading this wrong, I’m really sorry, we can just pretend it never happened, and–”
“Say what, babe?” Steve interrupted, shaking his head which caused his hair to bounce slightly, “You’re worrying me.” 
“I really like you, Steve. A lot.”
It was silent for a moment, and you couldn’t tell what Steve was thinking with the way he was staring at you so intently, nearly scrutinizing. Your heart began pounding in your chest, worried that you had read the entire situation wrong. His arms crossed over his chest and he let out a soft sigh, “You’re drunk.” 
“I’m not!” you insisted quickly, shaking your head vehemently, “Maybe the tiniest bit tipsy, but mostly sober, I swear. I’m– I’m serious, Steve. I just… I thought maybe Robin had a point? And honestly, you look so fucking good in those shorts, and I–”
You were cut off as Steve surged forward, one hand moving to cup the back of your head, the other grabbing at your hip to pull your body into his. Before you could process what was happening, Steve’s lips were on yours and he was kissing you desperately. Your hands struggled to find purchase as they landed on his shoulders and you kissed him back, hardly able to believe that this was actually happening. That you were kissing Steve. But just as soon as you’d started to wrap your head around it, Steve pulled back, eyes wide, chest heaving. 
“You don’t…” he stopped himself and shook his head as he looked down at the floor for a moment before looking up to you, “You have no idea how long I’ve wanted to do that. How long I’ve liked you.”  His hand that had grabbed at your side flattened as he smoothed over the fabric of the baseball pants, his gaze dropping down to the floor again bashfully. 
“Are you drunk?” you asked in disbelief. 
Steve laughed, a soft and amused sound, as he shook his head and repeated your earlier sentiment, “No. Just barely tipsy, almost completely sober. I feel sober now.” 
The kiss had sobered you up, too. Your hands slid down from his shoulders, palms resting flat against his chest as you tilted your head up so you could see him clearly. You could count each individual eyelash if you wanted. Count each and every freckle on his face. But all you really wanted was to kiss him. 
Your lips met his again as you pushed your chin up, fingers curling into the fabric of the shirt as Steve sighed into your mouth. Both of his hands dropped to your waist, pressing against your body gently until the small of your back bumped into the counter behind you. He squeezed your waist again as he murmured against your lips, “Up.” 
You jumped just enough as he helped to lift you onto the counter. His palms grasped at your thighs, fingers digging into the softness there as he stepped into the space between your legs. Once his lips were back on yours, his hands dropped down to your ass and pulled you forward on the counter easily. The feeling made you gasp; your shorts on him left little to the imagination with how you were pressed against him, “Steve.” Your own hands slid down from where they were resting against his chest and pushed against the soft lines of his abdomen, feeling up towards the tiny shirt on him.
“Mm?” he hummed, distracted by the feeling of your hands on his skin. His lips trailed along your jaw, nipping at your skin softly. 
“Want you,” you breathed out, eyes fluttering shut momentarily at the feeling of his lips on your neck. 
This caught Steve’s attention and his eyes lit up at your admission, “Yeah?” 
“Yeah,” you nodded quickly, cheeks filling with heat as you recalled the moment earlier in the evening when Steve had licked the spilled punch off of his fingers, “Want… want your fingers.”  
“Shit, okay, babe. Just let me…” he trailed off as his fingers hooked into the waistband of the baseball pants. You lifted your hips to help, letting him drag the fabric down your legs and drop them to the floor. Steve’s eyes caught on the wet spot in the center of your underwear and he cursed softly as his hands slid back up your legs, thumbs sliding up the inside of your thighs. A smirk was growing on his lips, “Y’already so wet, baby.” 
You let out a soft huff of embarrassment, cheek pressing into your shoulder to ease the burn as you looked up at Steve, “You’re… you just… you look really fucking hot in basically a crop top and short shorts and then you’re kissing me like I’ve never been kissed before, and–”
“Relax, cutie. I got you,” Steve’s eyes softened, the pads of his thumbs rubbing small circles up your inner thigh, inching closer and closer to the hem of your panties. At the same time, the tip of his nose brushed down the length of yours before gently nudging up against yours until he caught your lips with his own. 
He kissed you a bit softer than he had before, murmuring as his fingers slipped under the hem of your panties, rubbing back and forth against the delicate skin, “Can I get rid of these?”
Instead of answering, you lifted your hips off of the counter again so Steve could pull the fabric off. It dangled off of your ankle for a moment before falling to the ground to join the pants. Steve’s hands were warm at your knees as he pushed your legs apart, but before he could properly touch you, you grabbed at his wrist, fingers circling around it carefully. He watched you in confusion, about to speak but quickly cut himself off when you finally did what you’d been wanting to do all evening. 
You pulled his hand up to your mouth, kissing his palm once before your tongue darted out to circle his middle and ring fingers. Steve’s jaw dropped open slightly, eyes somehow growing even wider as you took his fingers into your mouth, his breath hitching, “Jesus fucking christ, babe, I—” Your hand still wrapped around his wrist gave it a small tug, releasing his fingers from your lips with a small pop. “Fuckin’ hell, baby.”
Steve kissed you like it was his last chance, tugging at your lips and licking into your mouth, distracting you enough to let his hand drift back down to your center. You jolted forward, whining into his mouth as his spit-slick fingers traced up your center until his fingertip nudged into your clit. “Please, Stevie.”
“I got you, baby,” he replied softly, emphasizing his words with another circle over your clit. Then, as if reading your mind, he slipped two fingers into you, drawing quiet moans from the both of you. “Shit, you’re so tight.”
His words had you clenching around his fingers as you leaned back, pressing your palms into the cool countertops beneath you. Finally, he started moving his fingers, thrusting them in and out of your cunt at a slow pace. “Steve, I need— oh, shit— I need more.”
Happy to oblige, Steve picked up the pace a bit, fingertips just grazing the spot that was going to make you see stars. Ever in tune with you and your body, he heard your soft whimper, and saw the way your fingers curled over the edge of the countertop, knuckles white with how tightly you were gripping it. He didn’t really have to ask, but did anyway, a knowing smirk settling over his lips, “Right there?”
“Ri-right there,” you repeated, voice breaking as you nodded frantically and rolled your hips against Steve’s hand. He curled his fingers inside of you and then he doubled down, fingertips repeatedly rubbing against the same spot that had you keening before. And when his thumb pressed to your clit, you nearly fell apart then and there.  
“C’mon, baby, know you’re close,” Steve muttered, rubbing his thumb over your clit again and again and again until you were clenching around him and falling over the edge with a loud moan of his name.
Your head fell back, thudding against the mirror on the wall behind you as you gasped for air, knocking Steve’s hat on your head off, chest heaving, “Fuck, Steve, I–” The words died in your throat as your eyes fluttered open, only to find Steve with his fingers halfway to his mouth. 
He paused for a moment but quickly took note of the way your breath hitched, eyes wide, and slipped his fingers into his mouth, sucking them clean for the second time that evening. You squirmed against the counter, trying to shuffle off of it as Steve hummed around his fingers and then pulled them from his lips, “Mm, y’taste so good, babe.” 
“Holy shit, Stevie,” you gasped as you stumbled off of the counter. 
Steve’s hands shot out, grabbing at your hips to steady you, “You okay?”
“More than okay,” you replied, nodding as your hands trailed down Steve’s chest. To prove your point, you leaned up on your toes and pressed your mouth to his. One of your hands curled into the tiny shirt as you kissed him, and the other slid down his chest and abdomen, brushing over the soft hair that disappeared under the waistband of the shorts. You paused, pulling your mouth from Steve’s to look up at him through your eyelashes, “Can I?”
“I— yeah,” Steve nodded hard, hair bouncing with the movement. He looked so pretty — prettier than normal — with his messy hair and wide hazel eyes, lips pink and shiny from your kissing. As he dipped back down to kiss you again, you slid your hand under the waistband of the shorts, but over his boxers. He groaned as you began palming him, and you nearly did as well. 
The shorts left very little to the imagination — you knew Steve was big, but feeling him hard in your hand was something completely different. You wanted him, and you weren’t sure you could wait much longer. Your fingers tugged at the shorts and his boxers, discarding them into the pile of your clothes, and you pressed a kiss to his hipbone as you straightened up again, “What… what do you want, Stevie?”
His chest heaved as your hand wrapped around his length, stroking him slowly while you waited for an answer. Steve felt like he couldn’t think, couldn’t breathe, couldn’t function. Not when you were finally, finally touching him. He wanted to do so many things with you, but most of all, he wanted you. “Need to be inside you, baby, fuck.”
Your breath hitched a little at his admission and you nodded quickly, wanting whatever he wanted, “Okay. ‘M yours, Stevie.”
“Fuck, you’re gonna be the death of me, baby,” he groaned, fingers sinking into the soft flesh of your hips again to help you back onto the counter and pull you towards the edge. “Do you— um, I don’t have a condom, I—”
“‘S okay,” you shook your head quickly, leaning back into your hands as one of your legs hooked around Steve’s waist and pulled him in closer to you, “‘m on the pill.”
“Are you sure?” he asked softly, eyes searching yours carefully. 
“Positive, Steve. I want you. Have for a long time.”
That was enough for Steve, and he shuffled forward, one hand resting against your waist while the other reached down to line himself up at your entrance. You sucked in a sharp breath as Steve pushed in slowly, your hands sliding into his hair at the back of his head. It was more of a stretch than you were used to, and it must have shown on your face because Steve’s hand left your hip and came up to cradle your cheek carefully, lips pressing to the corner of your mouth, “Okay?”
“Mhm,” you breathed out heavily, eyes flicking open to find Steve’s face centimeters from yours. His thumb rubbed soothingly over your cheekbone, back and forth a few times, and you nodded, “More, Steve.”
Steve nodded, pressing another soft kiss to your lips as he pushed forward again slowly, searching your face for any sign that you wanted to stop. And when he found none, he continued until his hips were flush with yours. His jaw clenched, fingers digging into your thigh that was around his waist, and hitched it higher up his side to push a bit deeper. “Tell me when you’re ready,” he murmured, dropping kisses to your shoulder. 
Your mind was racing, but with thoughts of only SteveSteveSteveSteve once again. Your senses were flooded with him; the smell of his cologne and sweat, the sound of his heavy breaths in your ear, the taste of his lips on yours, his hands on your body and his cock buried deep inside your cunt. With a gasping breath, you pulled Steve’s chest to yours, your other leg wrapping around his waist. “Ready. ‘M ready. You can move.” 
His hands slid under your arms and wrapped around your back to hold you against him as he began to move his hips slowly, “God, baby, you— fuck— you feel so good around me. So good for me, huh? Been wanting you like this forever.”
You rolled your hips into his as you all but sobbed his name, pressing your heels into the small of his back. He took the hint quickly and picked up the pace, the filthy sound of his skin smacking yours filling the small bathroom. Your hands searched over his shoulders and back, slipping underneath the shirt of yours that he was somehow still wearing, nails digging into his skin. 
Steve’s chin hooked over your shoulder, and he caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror behind you. He looked just as fucked out as he felt; eyes and hair wild as he clung to you. What really got to him, though, was the sight of his last name sprawled across your back. Maybe, just maybe, you’d finally be his after all of this. Heart racing at the sight, he set a punishing pace, “Look so fuckin’ good in my clothes, sweetheart. You’re so… so fucking perfect.” 
“Steve— oh fuck— you feel so good. Gonna come soon, ‘m so close—” you were mumbling incoherently into Steve’s neck, trying your best to meet his thrusts, which became harder as one of his hands snaked down between the two of you to rub over your clit. You clenched around him again at the feeling, pulling the best noise you’d ever heard from the back of Steve’s throat. Your moan echoed his, completely oblivious to the fact that you were still at a party and that someone could probably hear you. 
“Gonna come for me, my pretty girl?”
My pretty girl. His and only his. It was enough for you to come undone, Steve’s name intertwined with the curses and filthy moans you couldn’t hold back. His thrusts faltered, hips stuttering against yours as he came, your name spilling from his lips in a way you wanted to hear again and again and again. 
Your chest heaved against his as you both tried to catch your breaths, and you left soft, open-mouthed kisses to the crook of his neck where you’d buried your face as you’d come. His hands were gentle as they pushed up your thighs and hips, around your back to slip under the shirt of his you were wearing. They were exceptionally warm, tracing over the curve of your spine as he pressed your body into his, voice soft at your ear as he murmured, “Are you okay?”
You let out a soft laugh as you kissed up Steve’s jaw, fingers slipping into the slightly damp hair at the nape of his neck, twisting a strand around your index finger, “‘M perfect, Steve. Are you okay?”
“Fuck,” he laughed, shaking his head in amusement, popping up from your shoulder to look into your eyes, “I’ve never been better. Meant what I said… been wanting you forever.” 
“Yeah?” you asked quietly, feeling bashful, like he wasn’t still inside of you.
“Oh yeah,” he nodded, dipping his head down to press a soft peck to your lips. At the same time, his hands moved back down to your hips, holding you tightly as he finally pulled out. You winced slightly at the feeling, causing a soft apology to tumble from Steve’s lips, followed by another soft peck. 
It was quiet as you cleaned each other up as best as you could, stealing sweet kisses from the other more often than necessary. The sound of the music had finally come back into focus, and you realized that it wasn’t as loud as you’d remembered. Still, you’d do it all again, even though you weren't sure you could walk, and you knew your friends were going to give you shit for how long the two of you had disappeared. 
As you redressed, you finally swapped your clothes back, but just as you were about to give Steve the last piece of his costume — the jersey — he shook his head, cupping your cheek in his hand, tilting your head up, “You wear it. Looks better on you. And besides, need everyone to know you’re mine now.” 
You didn’t put up a fight, grinning and shrugging the jersey back over your shirt that Steve had definitely stretched out. Smoothing down your shirt, you held your hands out to your sides slightly, “Good?” 
Steve laughed again, reaching out to swipe a thumb under your eye in an attempt to remove some of the mascara that had smudged, “As good as it’s gonna get. And still perfect. Ready?”
Before he could open the door, you grabbed his hat off of the counter and brushed his hair back before placing it on his head, “For the sex hair. Oh, and Steve?”
“Yeah, cutie?” 
“Good game!” you giggled, slapping his ass before bolting out of the bathroom, leaving Steve to stare after you for a few moments with the biggest grin on his face. 
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lirational · 2 months
Text
Bait
Eldritch AU Path to Nowhere inspired by this image.
Monster!Shalom x Reader
Warnings: Dark content, dubious consent, general monsterfuckery, implied breeding, questionable anatomy, questionable science ethics or honestly ethics in general. DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT
SMUT UNDER THE CUT, MINORS DO NOT INTERACT
“It seems that they take a particular enjoyment to observing both of us.”
A statement, not a question. You were used to observing beings that are not of this world, captured by unknown means and now kept here to minimize their danger to the world at large. Monsters. You hesitate to call them that, as the term implies they were driven by familiar, animalistic instincts much like creatures of this world, while they seem to operate less on instinct and more on an unfathomable logic that you, and most human beings, lack the capacity to comprehend, a phenomenon which you and everyone here would witness whenever any of them deigned to entertain themselves with your reactions.
Perhaps, you should count yourself lucky that even after the higher ups captured them and shoved them in this facility designed as a cage, most of them were willing to adapt to parameters acceptable to humans. You’ve seen the ease of which some of them ruin lives when agitated, remembering that hapless scientist who tried to debate S-087 about the true nature of the universe and ended up being a little less, ah, comprehensible after she witnessed a glimpse of something not meant to be seen. You shudder, lost in the thought of the fate of your colleague after that ordeal instead of entertaining the monster in front of you with a response—
A cold feeling interrupted your thoughts, slender fingers wrapping on your wrist as the monster directed your hand to touch her cheek. She was now only centimeters away from your face, her fingers playing with your hand as she asked, “Your thoughts seem to be wandering away. What is it in your expression, ah, penny for your thoughts?”
She paused, letting her words sink in. In that brief moment, the triangular symbol in her eye seemed to flicker and flash.
“I cannot say I like being treated as if I’m not present.”
“S-017, I only wanted to record more information about that World of Mania you mentioned. Your thoughts about the research procedure is irrelevant,” you answer, the fake detachment all too evident to you. A part of you dislike treating her in such a cold manner, but this was one of the most basic things they drilled in your training manual. They are not people, there is no need to treat them as such, and don’t show your fear to them, for they might - and on occassions, have - take advantage of it.
“It’s Shalom,” she responded, her smile unfading, face close enough you could feel the warmth of her breathing. You have been warned about this, read the case files about how Sha— S-017 presents a veneer of perfection in each of her movements, and only when you pay very close attention you can see traces of her inhumanity. Every single part of her seems to be sculpted without flaw, from her porcelain skin to her doctored expressions, down to the vivid shade of maroon hair that faded into white as they tickled your skin and pooled on your lap from your proximity. Some of your colleagues have theorized that her perfection was meant to lull, to decrease one’s wariness towards her and lure people’s eyes from her less human traits. About the only part of her that gives away her true nature was the triangle in her right eye, but you suspect that if she didn’t want to show that part of her, you won’t even know it was there. “Perhaps it is irrelevant to the scheduled questioning we’re having right now, but I’m sure you are familiar with scientific curiosity.”
In that moment, your senses tinged a little as cold, vivid blue invaded the edges of your vision. A warning? Even if Shalom didn’t mean it as that, you’d rather not push it into a situation where being smashed into bloody pulp is the least undesirable fate. Many of your colleagues have theorized that the creatures held here merely stayed because the facility provided a measure of entertainment or possess something they want, and if any of them has a shred of determination to escape, the facility would be gone without a trace in the time it took for you to blink.
“I’m sorry, Shalom, may I ask you to elaborate about the World of Mania you mentioned in our last session?” You indulged her.
“Mhm, that’s more like it,” she hummed, clearly pleased. “Sure, I don’t mind, maybe I’ll tell you later.”
In your overstuffed armchair, you could feel something slither onto you, her stare anchoring you in place as the foreign tendril slides up your leg. More joined to trace your arms, and you glance at the camera stationed nearby, wordlessly pleading for the scientist watching the whole thing to get up and get help. It didn’t take long for Shalom to use another of her tendrils as a lithe finger to tilt your chin back to her, drowning you into her unmoving stare, “I will tell you, but in exchange…” she let her words sink in for a moment, “Won’t you entertain me?”
There was no need to be a, well, rocket scientist to understand what she was getting at. Her words carried a certain cadence to it, and you squirm in response, your head turning to look at the camera to scream for help, the monster’s feelings be damned. However, she was faster, one tendril rubbing circles on your clothed clit, the other teasing your lips, before holding down your tongue to render your plea ineffective. For a moment, blue flooded your vision, and when it subsided, the space around you has been warped, the door out of this room buried behind layers and layers of walls as the space itself warped to form a dark, foreboding maze. Did they not see what happened to you? Did they decide to dispose of you as punishment for something you weren’t aware of—?
“Again, what is bothering you? Ah, let me guess, are you bothered by the eyes trained on us?”
“S-017, I’m not here to, in your words, entertain you. You’re crossing and breaking several— ah, facility rules we are both bound with,” your voice was shaking, the authority and distance you tried to imbue into it fading as you gulp at the feeling of another tendril slipping past the band of your undergarments to play at your shamefully wet core. Your back was pressed to the stuffed chair, your movements limited as the tendrils around your limbs started to tighten, not enough to hurt, but enough to disallow you from moving even an inch without her permission.
From your files, S-017 seemed to be the rational sort, and you hoped the appeal to her rationality would allow you to escape this horrifying predicament. Even as your body started to ache and quiver with need from Shalom’s teasing touches, you still have enough of a mind to remember that both of you are being watched and recorded. At least, you would buy another few precious seconds for the security squad to come barging in, hopefully distracting her—
“Frankly, your rules hold no relevance to me,” Shalom answered, mismatched eyes glancing at the direction of what seemed to be a wall she erected herself by warping the space. “I’m sure you are familiar with the concept of bartering, hm? You get information, and I get a little bit of entertainment while I’m cooped in here. It’s a win-win for both of us, hm?”
Each word from her lips seem to infuse the air itself, thickening each breath you take in and eroding your reason to stoke your desire. Shalom stood up, taking a step back while she snapped her fingers, engulfing the chair you sat on with a gelatinous substance before the object disappeared into the darkness. Now, you were only held up by her tendrils, helplessly hung in the air as she drank in your appearance. Four more tentacles, two sliding out from somewhere on her back and the others from behind her legs, move towards you and made quick work on your clothes, the articles left to drop in a haphazard pile on the floor.
“I’m not here for you, or anyone else to have sex with. I will forward the request for approval to the facility if you want something of that nature, but—“
In that moment, the symbol on her right eye seems to bore right into your soul, then she stroked your cheek, voice soothing, tickling the air and making you gulp. Was it fear or anticipation? You could no longer be sure. “What got you so frightened? You will not share the fate of your colleagues, or come back as anything else but a normal, living person. Does it count as killing you a little if you come back out perhaps a bit exhausted?” She mused, practiced amusement sliding into her tone. “Don’t worry, I’ll make it pleasurable for you, too.”
Another couple of tendrils engulfed her clothes, and you were left with the sight of her naked body. Just how many did she hide behind that human appearance of hers? Regardless, like what you had always seen, every part of her was sculpted to perfection, any blemish and flaw hidden, or perhaps, she never allowed any to mar her. A few of your colleagues had theorized she made her own body, or perhaps, stole one from an unsuspecting person before she came to be imprisoned in the facility, but regardless, S-017 - Shalom’s perfectionism was well-known among your fellow researchers, to an unsettling degree.
“Does this body appeal to you?” The question snapped you out of your own reverie, not helped as she emphasizes her words with a rough pinch on your nipples. She sounded amused, sitting on thin air propped with her own alien limbs. This was the first time you had ever gotten a proper look of them, the tendrils starting with a vivid maroon of her hair, before fading to white and glowing in a bright, luminescent blue at the tips.
“Answer me,” she demanded, tendrils forcing you to look at her eyes. A lulling blue glow flooded your vision for a moment, and when it fades, your mind felt hazy, cloudy, your inhibition loosening as approval tumbled down from your lips. It felt good, it felt good as she smiled, and at least, even if the facility won’t send anyone, you can take comfort in the fact that the monster before you seem to be fond enough of you. The limbs propping you up shifted and made you lean forward, ass up in the air, another tentacle invading your puckered hole, only leaving your mouth free.
“Service me, and I’ll see that you’re returned, more or less unharmed.”
Accompanied with a flash of blue in your vision, her order seeped into your mind in a more direct way compared to a verbal command, an easy pleasure invading your body as you leaned as close as she allowed you, to the dripping slit between her legs. Hesitation screamed at the edge of your thoughts, yet, you could no longer process it, your tongue lapping at her with the fervor rivalling one induced by addiction. Your reward came in the form of pleasure as the tendrils nestled inside you start to move in tune with your movements, brushing that spongy spot while unnatural glee washed all over your body. It was as if each of the monster’s words carry a hidden reward, one that would be released as flashes of happiness as you obeyed her.
As your climb ever closer to your peak, Shalom released two more tendrils from her back, covering your eyes until all you could feel, could hear, could taste, was her, her moans of pleasure that sends happiness jolting straight into your quivering body, and the feeling of her tendrils invading deep, deep into you as if to prevent you from knowing, perceiving anything else. In the darkness, your senses felt sharper, each brush becoming tenfold in its intensity as you felt yourself thrown and engulfed in the throes of pleasure.
Everything was heightened, sharper. As you reached that sweet release, you tasted her release right at the same time, only for it to be snatched in an instant as you taste the monster’s lips on yours. You were far too distracted, unaware as foreign objects settled deep in your body, only feeling the oddity for a moment before you were dragged back to feel the full force of pleasure. She swallowed your screams, leaving you dripping, out of breath, and hung suspended in the air as the tentacles covering your eyes start to shift away, allowing you your sight again, to see Shalom looking especially pleased with herself. In contrast to the mess you were in, she had already dressed herself, no proof of the pleasure you had shared could be seen on her.
A contrast to your messed-up state.
While propping you up, she lowered you and let you stand, and in a flash of blue in your vision, you were already dressed.
“That completes the deal, as for my end—“
A tentacle probed into your head, not at all painful, yet there was a strangeness to it that you couldn’t put your finger on. As it reached a part of your mind, you saw images, information engraved directly into your memories. It felt like an eternity before she released her hold on you, and when she did, the room has returned to its prior state, no trace of the maze in sight.
“Huh…?” You mumble, dumbfounded. “Did no one see that, or was that just a—“
“Dream? Of course not, they have been pretty busy, I might add, but they can’t reach both of us in the corner of an ever-shifting maze. I would estimate it will take them around a century to find the exit, if they keep searching the entire time,” Shalom smiled at your dumbfounded expression, “Don’t worry, once you open that door, they’ll be transported back somewhere in this building. After all, I want you to be able to come back here without suffering any consequence, but…”
Her smile turns hungry.
“Come back in time, otherwise, you’ll be in for quite an amusing experience, alright?”
251 notes · View notes
thegainingdesk · 10 months
Text
Momentum
It was hard at first. John thought he knew exactly what to do - he'd read enough gainer stories, followed enough fat guys on twitter for years. All it would take was the decision to dive headfirst into gaining and he'd be as big as any of them in no time at all.
Once a day, every day, he'd eat something that would add at least a thousand calories to his diet. He'd barely even notice. A tub of ice cream, a pot of double cream, a whole cake, a second dinner - all very doable, all easily passing that thousand calorie threshold. Once that got easy, he'd start upping his intake - supplementing it with gainer shakes, or trips to fast food restaurants between meals.
It turns out that your average 12 stone man isn't really built to suddenly, rapidly increase the amount of calories he's taking in. Especially when most of those excess calories were dairy. He spent most evenings clutching his flat stomach as it churned with acid. Each evening he'd vomit it all back up, or have to miss meals, or feel nauseous the next day - constant signals from his body to stop.
He actually lost six pounds that first month. Maybe gaining wasn't meant for him. He watched enviously as his mates the same age succumbed to middle aged spread as they hit their mid-thirties, lamenting how lucky he was to still have his twenty year old metabolism as they patted beer bellies they couldn't shift.
John went back to his old diet, gained back those lost six pounds, and accepted he was just always going to be the skinny one in the group. He kept up a few old habits of course - still bought some of the ice cream flavours he'd discovered for the occasionally treat, kept up cooking with butter and cream where he'd found out how much they improved certain recipes, always made sure there were a few beers in the fridge for those nights when he fancied it. Nothing mad though, nothing that would cause any weight gain, just a few treats. You've got to enjoy life, haven't you?
John looked in amazement at the scales. A stone. An actual, whole stone. 14 pounds. On his body! He started noticing things - the tiniest pinch when he buttoned up his jeans, the slightest blur of softness on his stomach. It was nothing really, nothing anyone would notice, but it was there - solid proof that he could gain weight. He'd just pushed himself too far before, he realised with a laugh. Slow and steady and all that.
All those little habits became regular. Dessert every other night, then every night. Cooking with butter and cream no matter the recipe. A couple of six packs of beer a week. Nothing too intense, not that many calories, but it all started adding up, bit by bit.
Fancy coming for an Indian? the text read.
John's fingers hovered. The answer was obvious - thanks, I've just eaten, I'll join you at the pub after if you're going. But… his fingers traced that new curve of his gut, inching slowly bigger by the month. Not enough to be visible in most clothes really, not enough to be called fat, but there, sure enough. Was he really full? He could eat, couldn't he? What's a curry and a couple of naans?
You off to the Raj? he texted back. What time?
That old familiar feeling, of a stomach overly stuffed, too much food and beer. But different this time. The pain was there. The pressure. But there was a certain enjoyment to it. A pleasure. Warm, rather than acidic; heavy, rather than sharp. And god but didn't his gut look round? He stood in profile in the mirror, holding it almost like a pregnancy announcement. How long until it was always this size, he wondered? How long until it was bigger?
A second dinner became a weekly occurrence, then spread to two times a week, three times, four. After all, he'd proven to himself he had the capacity - why not? Eventually if he hadn't had four meals a day topped off with ice cream he'd be ravenous, his stomach biting at him in retaliation for his neglect.
He crossed 200 pounds. 210. 220. Clothes were bought, grown into, outgrown, and the cycle repeated. The general increase in size that had come before gave way to true signs of fatness. Soft pockets of fat at his chest, his arse rounding out, chubby cheeks, a real, honest to god, gut. It was happening. It was really fucking happening.
His mate Sam, the largest of the group, reached over and slapped John's baby gut after he took his coat off one night at the pub. "Fucking hell mate!" he said. "Never thought I'd see you with one of these!" There were some jeers, some belly pats, some comments - "At least you're not making us look bad anymore." "Welcome to the club, mate."
John looked around as he downed half of his first pint. How much more weight until he was the biggest there? None of them were that big, really, even Sam. Just a load of ex-rugby players with some overdeveloped beer guts. Another 30 or 40 pounds maybe? 18 stone? It sounded good, didn't it? And it would take, what? Six months at his current rate? A nice place to stop for a bit, enjoy his weight and new status as the big guy of the group.
He downed the rest of his drink and went to the bar for his next. "What we eating tonight then lads?" he asked them all, thinking back to the burger and chips he'd had just before coming.
It was all a lot easier with a definite goal in mind, he thought to himself a few weeks later, as he finished a tub of ice cream and placed it down next to four empty beer bottles. The sizes of snacks crept up, until they were meals in and of themselves, and he'd find himself convincing himself he was hungry almost as soon as he'd finished eating. He started stashing snacks everywhere that he couldn't reasonably expect a meal - the passenger seat of his car became reserved for a small mound of chocolate bars, the bottom drawer of his desk at work was filled with crisps and cereal bars.
His mates fell silent as he walked up to them a few months later, the next time he saw them, and he grinned smugly as he saw that, yes, he'd definitely become the fattest there. A couple of them even looked like they'd lost weight, the stupid pricks - didn't they know how good this felt? He put his pint and packet of pork scratchings down, and maneuvered himself down into his seat.
"Jesus Christ John," Sam said softly. "Are you… I mean… Is everything okay?"
John slapped the top of his gut and beamed. "Just enjoying life mate!" he replied, laughing. He tried to listen in as the others murmured around him, doing their best to not be too obvious.
"He wasn't that big last time, was he?" "Definitely not, he was smaller than me." "What's it been, four months? Three?" "He's not ill, do you reckon?" "Must be four stone, at least?"
Okay, so he knew he'd overshot his target and weighed in at 20 stone and change that morning, and yes, how fast it had piled on had shocked even himself, but really, it was all so hot, he was hardly about to complain. In fact, he'd made the decision that 285 felt a little small, really. Why not push for 300, when he was already so close anyway? Then he'd be satisfied, he knew.
"Mate," Sam whispered to him quietly, leaning in. "You've got a little uhh…" He gestured to his face. John took a finger and wiped the corner of his mouth.
"Cheers mate," John said, licking his finger. "Just a bit of cream." He spent the night making jokes about how fat he was getting, and eventually everyone else relaxed a little, content that he at least seemed happy with his shocking weight gain. Underneath his gut, his cock was rock hard.
300 pounds, it turned out, also felt a little small. Or at least, that's what John told himself a couple of months later as he saw 316 flashing on the scales. Maybe just a little bit more - a few more pounds and then he'd stop, once and for all.
But god, did it feel hot. Eating became its own erotic experience. It wasn't merely that he couldn't cum anymore without being completely, painfully stuffed (that point had long since come and gone), he now wondered why he would want to at all. Hook-ups became as much about being fed as they were about the sex. He didn't care who they were - if they had food and were willing to feed him, he'd take them.
John's body became unrecognisable. He was far beyond mere beer belly or dad bod now, his gut was now a globe that spanned out in every direction, wrapping around into thick cushions at his back, draped in inches of fat on top of the firm ball, before cascading off, a surprisingly cold apron of flesh that was slowly threatening to cover his ever shrinking cock. His tits sagged to the side and joined up to his back fat nestled in his armpit. His face, long-since fully rounded, began to elongate, his cheeks and chins sagging into new shapes.
John panted a little as he stood naked in his bathroom, doing his best to push his gut in with one hand as he peered over the top of it to see the scale read 363. "Right," he told the walls of the bathroom. "That's it, I'm stopping there." He struggled to lean down to pick the scales up, sliding them away to the side of the cabinet before straining to stand. "I only bloody wanted to be bigger than Sam."
Food, however, still tasted as good as it had before. And every meal he tried to scale back, every snack he tried to forgo, left him ravenous - each day he'd just end up gorging on more food than he tried to cut back on.
370. 380. 390.
His body began to feel alien. Every joint began to feel crowded, flesh filling the space before he could fully bend his elbow or knee. His arms sat awkwardly by his sides, pushed out by sloping tits. Manspreading became the default, as his thighs met all the way down to his knees which themselves began to inflate out, pillowy and soft.
400. 410. 420.
The gym, he decided. If dieting was out of the question (and there was no doubt at this point that dieting was very much out of the question), he could always exercise. He drove to a nearby gym, asked about personal trainers. Put down more money than one of his mortgage payments for their premium membership for a year, as much to force himself to commit as for the actual services.
His feet ached. His knees grinded. His lungs burned. Sweat poured off of him in quantities that he didn't know people could sweat - and he considered himself to be quite the expert on sweating these days.
Fuck it, he thought to himself after the first session, his circus tent of a t-shirt practically see-through, clinging to every roll of his body, showing off each crevice and valley. It wasn't that much money, really. He could afford to wave goodbye to it, if it meant never having to do that again. What did he have such a good salary for, if not to waste it on shit he'd never use? He'd have only spent it on food anyway.
430. 440. 450.
"My weight's plateaued recently, actually," he told Sam proudly over a pint.
Sam gave an encouraging smile. "That's great mate," he said, in the same tone he'd speak to a child or elderly relative. "Really great."
"Yeah," John said, opening one of the bags of nuts on the table in front of them. "I only put on like five pounds last month."
"Fuck," Sam said quietly, his face draining of colour. "Five pounds last- John, mate, that's still over a pound a week. What are you… how quickly were you packing it on before?"
John shrugged, and pointed to the rugby match on the TV in the corner of the pub, trying to change the topic. At least Sam had put on some weight himself recently - it blunted to criticism just a little.
"I'm over twenty stone now," Sam confessed later, his breath reeking of beer as he leant in close. "I don't know how I'm going to stop," he continued, his words slurring. He leant back and pulled his t-shirt up to reveal his hairy gut beginning to fill his lap and he slapped it. "Look at this thing!" he said loudly enough that people at other tables looked over and laughed. He began to rub it in slow, wide circles, and John could see the outline of his dick growing down the inside of his trousers. He leant back in, lowered his voice once more. "It's kind of fucking hot, isn't it?" he asked, punctuating with a burp. "That's why you've gotten so fat, right? You find it hot too?"
Forty five minutes later, Sam clumsily lined up his cock with one of the folds on John's gut, and slid it inside, grunting as he did so. Both of them held a kebab in one hand, and ate them as Sam's gut and John's whole body shook and quivered with Sam's thrusts, bits of meat and salad and sauce falling down onto their bodies.
"I can't stop," Sam moaned, as his thrusts became more erratic. "I keep on trying to lose weight but I just gain more and more." He spasmed and yelled out, one hand shoving the last of the kebab into his mouth, the other gripping one of his love handles hard, his fingers sinking in to the growing ball of fat.
"That's the thing about momentum," John said as he licked the last of the sauce off his fingers. "Once you get started, it just gets harder and harder to stop."
Sam slid off of John's body and John looked down at himself, surveying his acres of flesh. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad to put on just a little more weight, he thought to himself. After all, Sam needed someone to set a good example.
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halcified · 5 months
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teru & socialization
i've posted about this before but something ive been thinking about a LOT is mp100's themes of loneliness (and eventual connections). i think this is an aspect of teru's character (in particular) that gets left out because it's not as explicit but i've been wanting to do a deep dive on it for a while and i finally sat down to do it. just a warning, this post is gonna be LONG.
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these two panels are from chapter 16 of the manga (which i'm using for my evidence because i. dont want to scrub through the anime LOL). initial sentiment: teru uses his powers to cheat having friends/a good social life and wouldn't have that if he tried earnestly. this is a fair interpretation of the scene. with what we know, at this point of time (as in within the teru-mob fight) teru would not be able to connect with other people earnestly, due to his mindset. which i think is a fair interpretation, HOWEVER:
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(from chapter 17 ^^) the first panel shows teru's expression to be strained and the second is visibly unhappy. this puts the first set of panels into a different context, that maybe underneath all of this, teru doesn't WANT any of this life that he's built. keep in mind that i'm analyzing this with teru's possible autistic tendencies in mind & you dont have to believe he's autistic, im not your dad, but i do find this a pretty meaningful indication of masking if he were
(note: yes, the strain can definitely be read as comp-het, and i would agree but that's not relevant so go read this post on that instead)
even if the rest of these panels show teru content with his life, i think these expressions are pretty vital to how we read his life especially because we know so little of it. think about it, if you were a kid desperate for affection because you couldn't get it anywhere else, especially not in a way that would come off as "mature" or "unaffected", wouldn't you also look for validation in your popularity? even if it aligned you with people who you consider fundamentally different to you? my point here is that teru can't not stand out-- it's in his nature-- and we are shown how he tries to blend in & receive attention in the only way possible to him; which is to say that he molds himself into something that is palatable, likeable, and superior to other people. if he's nothing, like mob, he has spent his entire life covering up for it. if he fails socially, like mob, he has to be good at everything (even if he cheats to do so) so that everyone else can look past it.
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(side note for my teru angst enjoyers: this is a panel of his mom. the mom who he hasn't seen in years. doesn't it make sense that, if he hasn't heard his mom say he's proud of him for literal years, that he would overachieve in response? not related to the autism thing i just have the teru bug. also don't be misogynistic in my notes both his parents suck we just get a singular mention of his mom)
so if teru couldn't meaningfully have friends before mob, that could very easily be because of his past mindset, right?
...except, we don't.. really... see him make other friends afterwards.
but, the awakening lab, right?
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(ok i lied to you sorry there is one anime screenshot and thats because it stood out to me while i rewatched it earlier this month. sorry.) id like to bring attention to this screenshot during the cultural festival because the awakening lab can definitely be seen as a direct contradiction of this and i'd like to point out a couple things:
1) in this scene the shiratori brothers are in another room 2) them and the other three are friends with ritsu (or at least close enough acquaintances to want to see him).
considering this is one of the only times they appear together for Fun i am more inclined to believe this is an encounter where they went together because they all would've gone separately anyway. this isn't to discount the possible bond that these characters might have, but thats the thing. we... aren't really shown that they're friends and enjoy spending time together outside of this screenshot, where two out of six of the members are not even present. not to mention that teru is still placing himself in a role separate from his peers. despite stripping the superiority away, teru is still the awakening lab's mentor, not friend. teru still views himself as fundamentally different in a context where his psychic powers don't make him that way.
...except with mob. i bring this placement of power up because where he is the awakening lab's mentor, teru declares mob to be his rival, or, in other words, teru is just like him. he is accepting that mob and him are the same. (and if we view mob from an autistic lens... so on and so forth)
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as if to hammer in that point even further-- in the summer vacation omake, teru explicitly states that "summer break is just a super long, super boring stretch of alone time." i'm not sure of the timeline here, but guessing from the hair, we're at least post season 1. which gives us explicit confirmation here that teru is spending the break alone despite his relationship to the awakening lab. his connection to mob is a lifeline here because mob is one of the only people who can intuitively understand teru's isolation without judgment
(also, on that point of teru's autistic tendencies: teru does and says a LOT of things that would raise other peoples eyebrows and doesn't seem to notice.
here we get teru actively admitting to his home life, right in front of reigen, WHO COULD CALL CHILD SERVICES ON HIM? this genuinely made me rethink this character entirely. teru's filter is... minimal. he isn't constantly volunteering information and generally minds his own business, but if you ask? Well.
teru is a social person, but to say he is proficient in understanding social situations seems... wrong. teru views his loneliness as boring because, despite being fairly open, does not actually allow himself to think about his own feelings and how they affect him. this loneliness is boring because he doesn't have enough of a reference to realize its not
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if we are taking pre-mob teru to be a version of himself who is masking, or at the very least someone who is faking a lot of stuff in a less autistic sense, the fight with mob changes teru to the point where he no longer hides himself. in the same way that mob was able to shake teru's fragile superiority complex i think the change in appearance marks the end of the self teru had built up. from this point on we see him become a lot more... Him. his appearance and his fashion choices are, presumably, completely normal to him and we get no indication that he believes otherwise despite the reactions it gets-- which is... well, i wouldn't be writing this post if i thought it was one of his most neurotypical traits.
in fact, he seems... pretty oblivious to what other people think of him. which is an interesting distinction to make considering the intelligence we Know he possesses (which is not to say that you are unintelligent if you don't pick up on social cues, just that its common for media to depict it that way.) these traits are made pointedly, even if unintentionally, separate, ESPECIALLY when you note the amount of characters who Do ruminate on or stare at teru's appearance.
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some examples. i don't even think this is all of it-- case in point.)
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ihavethedreamies · 5 months
Text
Deserted | Hoshi
Kwon Soonyoung (Hoshi - Seventeen)
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Rating: M (18+) MDNI
Word Count: ~5.1k
Pairing: Hoshi x AFAB!Reader
Genre: Sci-Fi AU!, Reader-Insert, Smut, Some Plot, Hookup/One-Night-Stand/Strangers to Fucking
!!This is smut…if that much isn't clear you should probably leave now!! MDNI!
Warnings: She/Her Pronouns used, Pet Names (Sweet Girl, Baby Girl, etc.), Swearing, Kissing, Oral (M! & F! Receiving), Deepthroating, Unprotected Sex (Use a condom!), Added some piercings for ~flair~
Author's Note: I had my best friend read this the other day and she said it was a little much for her, but still enjoyable and she was sure others would love it.
I am planning on doing something like this for each member, so stay tuned!
-> Woozi's <-
-> Wonwoo's <-
-> S.Coup's <-
I am cross-posting this on Archive under the same name. Please reblog! If you know anyone that would like this or future fics but they aren't on Tumblr my name and icon are exactly the same on the other site. Happy reading!
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"Oh, you have got to be kidding me." You groaned as your sand-rover grumbled in protest, slowing down before it halted. The engine not only shut off, but it let out a giant puff of black smoke. The smell of burning rubber stung your nose and you groaned louder, grabbing your bag off the passenger seat. Throwing the door open, you're glad that happened as the sun was setting and not when it was high in the sky. The desert, however, could be very cold at night. A gust of wind blasted against the door, almost slamming it shut on your legs. With a yelp, you swung out your arm to catch the door and sighed when it didn't keep going. Unwrapping the thin scarf around your neck, you rewrapped it around your head and face to protect you from the blowing sand. Slipping your goggles on over to cover your eyes, you winced when the leather cracked further. Getting another strap would be a pain in the ass. Grabbing the door, you let it slam closed and slung your bag over your shoulder. Walking around the vehicle, you noticed that is had been hit harder than you anticipated. Since your rover was just that, you had no gun mounted on it, so when the acid-spitting space worm shot out of the ground, you could only flee. The back tire had finally been eaten away enough to go flat and there was also a hole that led to the gas tank. Only a bit of the fuel dripped out and you knew there was no chance of getting the now wrecked rover anywhere. Climbing up on the other back wheel, you got the hatch in the back open so you could grab your bigger pack. Grunting, you swung it onto your back and cinched the straps tight. Turning back to the last outpost you had been at was a no go. There was a huge alien monster in the way. You weren’t sure where the next outpost was, so you pulled out your old, beaten up holo-tracker. When you turned it on, the holographic screen glitched, so you slammed the body of the device against your thigh a few times and then it evened out. Clicking the buttons, one of which kept getting stuck, you saw that the next outpost was miles away. Walking that far would be an absolute drag but at least it was going to be night.
"Freaking desert planets…" You grumbled as if you had ever lived on a different one. You grew up on Sierra-Victor-Tango, but after taking a trip to several other human worlds, you learned that your home was…well, a shithole. Everything was old and falling apart. In the cities, crime was rampant, and the smaller outposts and towns were poor. When you told your mother you were going out to scavenge through the desert, she was unsure. Not because she was worried for your safety, but she had no idea what you hoped to find. It was a sandy wasteland inhabited by weird space bugs and lizards. You had never known earth like your grandparents so when you learned Terra animals and bugs looked so different, you understood why your grandma was so skeeved out.
Looking back at the wrecked rover, you wondered if it could give you some credits for scrap, but the work to get all the way out to it was not worth it. Hiking up your pack again, you set off, holding the scarf to your mouth as a gust of wind blasted you. A little blinking cursor flashed on your holo-tracker indicating where you were as you walked toward the setting sun. Behind you and to the right, the two different moons rose higher and got clearer. Twinkling stars began to appear and the cold was starting to set in. In the distance, you saw a giant rock outcropping and you headed for it. It was off the packed-in road, so you couldn't go very fast in the shifting sand.  When you reached the rock, you walked around to the other side, looking for a crack or something you could wedge into for shelter. What you were not expecting was some kind of shelter erected against the stone. It looked semi-permanent and constructed around some kind of indent in the giant rock.
Creeping closer, you saw someone sitting at a fire pit, their back to you. What startled you the most though, was a giant feline-like shape lying next to the fire as well. You had never seen one that big and it looked like a tiger from the books your grandmother brought from earth. Instead of orange with black stripes, it was black with white stripes and had long top fangs. The wind shifted; it was coming straight behind you instead of at you. The beast lifted its head, beginning to growl. At this, the person turned around and you saw it was a man. He had a scar across the bridge of his nose and his ears were heavily pierced. Another piercing accented his right brow, and he had a long narrow tattoo behind his ear and down his neck. You immediately shot your arms up in surrender and he motioned his tiger to lay down.
"Who are you?" He called and you dared not step closer.
"Uh…(Y/N), of Morgran Town." You had never seen someone like him before. He was incredibly attractive, and his poncho-like cloak hit right at his ribs, and he had nothing on under it. His muscles were toned, and his skin was smooth other than a scar near his hip. Tight leather pants clung to thick thighs and his big boots highlighted his long legs. Even his arms were well defined, a belt holding some sort of flask wrapped around his right bicep. His eyes were bright yellow, and you didn't know that happened naturally, his hair was white with black tips, reminiscent of his tiger.
"Morgran Town? You’re a long way from home." He replied, motioning with his hand for you to come closer. Finally, out of the shadow of the rock, he could see you in the double moonlight. You felt…tiny. He wasn't super big, not like some you've met, but he wasn't short either.
"Well, I'm a traveler, my rover broke down a few miles back." You finally let your arms down and instead moved to grip the straps of your pack.
"Headed to Korvo?"
"Yes."
"Don't."
"What? Why?"
"Two weeks ago, they got hit by slavers, it’s a ghost town." The man motioned you closer and toward a stump he had carved into a seat. Slowly, you walked the long way around, avoiding the cold gaze of the animal. You removed your pack, letting it thumb next to your seat, but you didn't take off your other bag; just in case you had to flee. Now that you were closer, you could tell that some kind of meat was being roasted on the fire.
"It won't taste too good because I can't really cook, but it will be cooked." He flashed a smile, and it took you off guard. He was…adorable.
"You'll share?" You looked at the roast, your mouth watering. You hadn't had fresh meat in months, only dried stuff. You wondered if he made the kill or his pet.
"Don't worry about Horanghae, he won't bite unless I let him." He waved at the animal, and you nodded, still feeling nervous in its gaze.
"I'm Hoshi." He held out his hand to shake and you shyly returned the gesture, and he sat back down at a long bench.
"You're a traveler? What do you do that for?"
"Oh, uh, I'm mostly looking for old wrecks of like shuttles and ships and stuff." You shrugged. It took forever to find things like that, but you gained a knack for it, and it got you a crap ton of money sometimes. While not official, you basically worked for the International Assembly as a freelancer, so you did jobs at your leisure.
"That must take a long time." He smiled and you shrugged.
"Sometimes. What about you?"
"I'm a Ranger." He held up a medallion hanging around his neck that had an upside-down triangle-like logo on it. You had heard of them before, there weren’t too many of them, it was hard to get accepted. They traveled the desert and worked as bounty hunters. That's all people really knew about them.
"So, if Korvo is a bust, where should I head next?"
"Hm. There's nowhere close really, not that you can get to easily by foot…I can't leave here for a few days, so you can stay with me till then. I'll give you a lift after." He jutted his thumb over to a hover bike that was resting next to his abode.
"Oh! Thank you. That's very generous." You let out a sigh of relief, you had begun to wonder what you were going to do. You were really bad at hunting and had only so much water in your canteen. He told you about his situation as you waited for the meat to be done. He had a well that was in the back of his tent, which was half in the rock. He had blown a giant cave into it with a grenade and set up his home. Horanghae would hunt for him, and he had a communication relay set up as well to talk with the rest of the Rangers.
"I only have one place to sleep though…" He finished off his explanation and you waved him off.
"I can sleep on the ground, not the first time I've had to."
"No way. What kind of person would I be if I let my guest sleep on the ground?" He shook his head. Thanking him, he declared the food done and hacked of a chunk for you. Hoshi speared the meat on a wooden skewer and handed it over. Eagerly eating the food, he watched in amusement at your ravenous behavior and then ate himself.
"Thanks. I can't begin to thank you; I would've been a goner." You shuddered at the thought. If you had arrived at Korvo and found it wasted, you might have had a breakdown.
"Don't worry about it!" He took the rest of the meat off the spit and gave it to the tiger. He led you inside his hut, even carrying your big pack in for you. It was nice and cozy inside, beautiful colored Afghans and rugs were laid out everywhere. The front room was like a living room and had a pile of pillows to sit at and even had a fairly nice holo-screen set up. There was a curtain against the left wall that he told you led to the bathroom. The next room was the bedroom essentially and he told you to go in and make yourself comfortable, he would sleep in the front room. Thanking him again you scurried into the back. That's where he had his communication equipment set up, and there was an actual bed in there! Under all the blankets and pelts, there was not just a sack of straw or even a crate; it was an actual mattress. You hadn't slept on one in almost a year. Taking your boots off, you jumped on and groaned at the comfort. Pulling the softest Afghan over you, you drifted off quickly and slept better than you had in a while.
A soft beeping stirred you from your sleep. Glancing at your watch, you saw it was almost sunrise and so you sat up, stretching with a groan. The beeping was coming from the monitor he had set up. Not wanting to invade his privacy, you got up to go into the other room and inform him. He was still asleep, having spread out across the floor and pillows. His tiger must have been outside. It would have been cute to see him sleep like that if it wasn’t for the fact his torso was now completely uncovered and only his lower half was covered by the blanket. Not just that, but his tight pants were thrown over a chair in the corner, and the blanket was tented in a very obvious way. The realization made you squeak in embarrassment, and you fled back into the other room. While you had not been with too many guys before, you knew for sure what he was hiding under there. The soft beeping continued from the monitor, and you wondered what you should do. If he had to go in there to check on it, he might not realize he had a…problem. Living alone probably allowed him some freedom, but you were here, and you weren't sure he would think of that.
Dashing from the back room into the bathroom, you realized how bad you had to go. Once that was done, you realized in shock that the plumbing was…actually plumping. Kind of. It was one of those high-tech situations that vaporized the waste into nothingness. The sink actually gave you water and it seemed so would the shower. As you were still in there, staring at your face in the mirror, you kept thinking of how to wake him. All of a sudden, the beeping got loud enough for you to hear in the other room and when you peaked your head out, you saw he was stirring. That solved that problem. Peering through the curtain, you watched him get up and your jaw dropped as the blanket fell. Luckily, he was at least wearing undergarments, but they were tight and hid very little. He was very nicely defined, his muscles weren't huge, but he still looked extremely good. His hair was messy, and you were enraptured watching him stretch. He trudged into the back room, scratching his chest and seemingly ignoring his morning problem. You heard a ding and he spoke to whoever was on the other line. His voice was rough from sleeping and you knew you were in danger. How is it that you managed to find such a gorgeous man out in the middle of the desert? Another voice responded to him, but you couldn't pick out any specific words and soon their conversation was over, and you jumped back into the bathroom and away from the curtain.
"(Y/N)? You in there?" He was standing right on the other side, and you swallowed before answering in the positive.
"I, uh, need in there, but…" You knew why he was hesitating and for some reason, some stupid little voice in the back of your conscience screamed loud enough for it to come out of your mouth.
"I can help you with that." You blurted and gaped at yourself in the mirror. He didn't say anything, and you kicked yourself. Why, why did you say that? Before you could say anything else, the curtain pulled back and you saw him behind you in the reflection of the mirror. His look was much different than the night before. His yellow eyes that shined with laughter had turned sharp. It made you shudder as you made eye contact with him indirectly through the mirror.
"I-I mean, I don't know how to thank you for helping me…So, I uh, can help with whatever." You were glad the mirror didn't go too low, otherwise you would definitely be staring. You could see him slowly look you up and down and you froze under his gaze. It was like what the tiger did to you last night, but ten times worse. You felt like a deer about to be eaten, and it turned you on to no end. Wandering around the desert for a living doesn't exactly afford many opportunities for romantic or sexual escapades. You figured the case was probably pretty true for him as well, if not more. Realizing in the night you had shed your shirt; you were just standing in the wrap-around you used as a bra and your leggings. Because of the heat of the desert and the tightness of said leggings, you usually went commando, and you wondered if you were wet enough for it to soak through the fabric.
As he stepped into the small space, he let the curtain fall behind him but didn't step completely through the entryway.
"Are you sure?" He stared you in the eye, once again through the mirror, you did not yet have the courage to turn around. While you wanted to say you were joking, that it was just an impulse to tease, you couldn't. Seeing him to begin with was enough, let alone in his current state.
"Are you sure?" You shot back. You thought yourself rather plain with no distinctive features. Your freckled skin from years of sun exposure was highlighted strangely by the tan line that formed around your goggles. You were covered in dirt too because of wandering out in the blowing sand. His poor bed was probably covered in sand too. Not easy to find somewhere with running water, let alone hot water, your hair was pulled back into a braid but was not exactly clean. You were glad body odor had been genetically eradicated decades ago. Plus, compared to him, you were painfully average.
When he didn't verbally respond, you grew even more nervous, but he stepped in further till he was standing a few steps behind you. He peered at the mirror from behind, and he was nearly a head taller than you. His stare was even more intense now and you shivered. Taking a deep breath, you finally worked up the courage to turn around, and he was immediately on you. His kiss was searing, and you immediately groaned. Nothing about it was gentle, it did truly feel like he was trying to eat you. He bit your bottom lip and you moaned, his tongue quickly flicking against your own. Something cold and round hit your teeth and you realized his tongue was pierced. Oh lord. Hoshi's hand had come to rest around your throat, under your jaw, but was in no way harsh or tight. This way, he could angle your head just right. Your neck protested some and so you propped up on your tip toes, tipping your head and allowing the kiss to deepen further. His second arm wrapped around you, almost encircling you while his hand gripped your ass. The hand on your jaw moved to the back of your head and you wrapped your smaller hands over his biceps. Pulling back for air, his fingers buried further in your hair and yanked your head back so he could kiss down the column of your throat. You moaned as you felt his teeth buried slightly into the flesh, then sucked hard, definitely leaving a mark. As he pressed you so close to him, you could feel his covered hard-on against your bare stomach. Your head swam as he sucked on your earlobe and his hand left your head to wrap around your back.
"Jump." He ordered and you followed, his mouth landing on yours again as he left the bathroom. The man easily carried you and brought you to the bedroom, "Put me down a sec." You told him. Hoshi raised his eyebrow in question but did so. You immediately sank to your knees, and he groaned before you even touched him.
"You sure?" He asked.
"If I go to do something, I'm sure." You told him, implying for him to stop asking. He nodded and you nervously but quickly reached for the waistband of his only item of clothing. Exhaling, you removed the garment and gaped as he stepped out of it. Swallowing a build-up of saliva, you no longer had to imagine. What shocked you the most however was the two metal spheres adorning the head of his cock. A full reverse prince albert. That was the hottest thing you had ever seen.
"Good?"
"Yes." You cleared your throat, wiggling your jaw a bit then reached for him, laving your tongue around the head, the metal imbedded there cold where his flesh was hot. He swore as you began to descend. Your jaw protested some, but in the best possible way. You saw his eyes widen in shock then narrow as he moaned, your nose reaching his pelvis. Swallowing around him, the piercing was an odd sensation, you pulled back as little as possible so you could still breathe. Once you found the proper depth, you pulled off him and gave him a look, spreading your legs more and placing your hands on the floor.
"(Y/N)?" He asked and you simply opened your mouth wide, tongue out.
"Fuck." He practically growled and he adjusted your jaw by the chin and then he slid in. Keeping your teeth covered was a little difficult with his girth, but you managed. You could focus on that while he did all the movement. He had noticed what you were doing and made sure not to go too deep but every so often so you could still breathe. Your gag reflex was pretty much gone at that point for several different reasons, but with his size (and the piercing) you let out a small gag every once and a while. Hoshi's hands dug into your hair as he used your mouth, very quiet but high-pitched moans flowing out. Feeling him twitch, you knew he was close, and he almost pulled out. While part of him wanted to see your face covered, he much preferred it when you grabbed the back of his thighs and buried him completely in your throat.
"Oh, fuck." He groaned, throwing his head back as he came. You moaned at the feeling yourself and the vibration rolled his eyes back. When he was done, you swallowed to make sure everything went down and he pulled out fully, still half-hard. Licking your lips sensually, he huffed and reached down to lift you up under your arms. You yelped at the east to which he does this, and he literally tossed you onto the bed. He grabbed the fastener of your breast band; as he roughly pulled it open and off, the motion flipped you over onto your stomach. He was manhandling you with such ease. Hoshi moved your braid out of the way and started to lay seething kisses along your spine and over your shoulders. His hand came under you and ran down your stomach till the tips of his fingers reached the waistband of your leggings. He pulled your waist up, his now fully hard cock wedged between the cleft of your ass. You were definitely leaking through the fabric. Placing a final kiss on your shoulder, his hand hooked into your bottoms, and he tugged hard. You flipped over once again and as Hoshi dragged the last of your clothes off, he also tugged you to the foot of the bed. Before you could get your bearings, his hands gripped your thighs, tight, and pressed your legs open. You knew you would have bruises there in the morning and his hot breath on your core made your hips seize.
"W-wait-!" You gasped as his tongue licked a hot stripe up to your clit. You had never had this done before, just never really cared to. It was something new for sure and it was almost too much. The slight cold of the ball piercing his tongue made you flinch. You could feel hip lips curl into a smirk against you at this and caught him looking up at you. The sight was overwhelming, and he sucked hard on your clit, you head slamming back into the bed.
"You taste amazing." He groaned against your skin. His hands moved from your thighs, and he wrapped his arms around your legs and buried in deeper. The hold he had on you prevented almost all movement and your upper body squirmed to compensate. Hoshi's tongue seemed like it shouldn't be as long as it was, nor as strong. The piercing was brushing right against your entrance and hit your clit over and over. He was like a man starved, dehydrated, and he was sucking your soul out.
"Ah!" You almost screamed when he came back to your clit and your orgasm hit you, hard. It was stronger than you had ever experienced and lasted much longer. He groaned against you, his continued tongue movements dragging it out. When it finally calmed down, he pulled away as the overstimulation began to sting. The man let you catch your breath and when you were able to open your eyes to look at him and he was drenched.
"Oh my god!" You gasped and he just laughed, wiping his mouth and sucking everything else off his hand and fingers.
"You ever squirted before?" He asked and you shook your head, mortified.
"It’s okay, pretty girl, that was sexy." His smile was too cute for what he just did to you.
"You need a minute?" He asked and you rested back again with a nod. Delicately, instead of what he was doing before, he picked you up and shifted you higher up the bed. His lips came back to yours, gentle at first and growing heated again. There was something about his kisses, they alone made your head swim. Was it him or his skill? The tongue piercing? Who knows? As he felt your body become less tense, his arms wrapped around you and tilted your hips up so he could grind against you. You were still somewhat sensitive so even just the slight friction was so good. Already knowing this from when he was straining your jaw, you knew that his cock was going to stretch you so good. The sting would be so worth it. It had been a long time since anyone filled you up and no one had ever as much as you knew Hoshi was going to.
"You ready, princess?" He finally let your tongue go and you could not form a thought to make words, so you nodded. He smirked and the head poked at your entrance. As he eased in, the sting was more intense than you thought it would be, but so, so good. The stretch wasn't the only thing that took your breath away. That gosh darn piercing perfectly hit your clit and rubbing against your walls as eased in. At least he was self-aware of his size because he went slow, but knew he wasn't hurting you. Your hard exhales were tinged with a moan, nearly imperceptible. He was big, you knew part of it was because you were quite small, but his cock was impressive on its own.
"So tight." He grunted, grinding into you and your clit throbbed.
"J-just give me a sec." You gripped his shoulders, breathing through the delicious stretch. It felt incredible despite the slight pain. After you sat for a bit, he shifted some and then moved slowly, hiking your leg up over his elbow and he went even deeper.
"Fuck!" You moaned, your head tossed back, and you almost came again right then.
"You okay?" He chuckled some, he could tell by how you clenched that it felt good, not that it hurt. That fucking piercing brushed right against your sweet spot. Hoshi had already ruined you for any other man, and he hadn't even moved.
"Ready?" he asked, massaging your hip. You nodded and the hand on your hip tightened its grip, and his arm hiked your leg up higher. He barely pulled out, maybe an inch, then his hips snapped, and you came.
"Ohgodohgodohgod." He grunted as your walls clenched him tight and he was growing smug at the pleasure he was wreaking on you. In truth though, he was trying really hard not to cum already himself. He knew he would have some time before he could again given he had already came, but it had been a while. However, every other time he had waited this long, he could go for many, many rounds. If he could, he would keep you in his bed and in his hold for the rest of the day. He wanted to make it so you couldn't walk by the time he could bring you to the outpost. Honestly, he wanted to make it, so you never wanted to leave. When your orgasm died down, he waited a bit longer, you laid limp in his arms.
"You're gonna have to do all the work now." You told him with a tired giggle, like he wasn't already doing that. He smirked, notched your other leg up over his arm, then proceeded to fold your legs up to your chest. He pressed your thighs down with his hands, forming more bruises and you prepared yourself. His next thrust was almost hard enough (it seemed) to dislodge a kidney. It knocked the wind out of you and your sensitive skin burned. You were in for a ride. His thrusts were not even as hard as they could be, you knew. Hoshi only pulled his cock halfway out before he was buried as deep as he could go. After every thrust, he would grind down into your clit, the metal ball inside rubbing your g-spot. Your moans were getting harder to contain, you almost wanted to scream. Drool pooled out of the sides of your mouth; your entire body was on fire.
"Don't hold back, baby girl, let me hear you." He grunted out, his thrusts slowing but no less deep. Finally getting permission to be loud, you whined, and he unfolded you and led you to wrap your legs around his waist. Up on his knees, he positioned you to rest your lower back on his thighs and he rolled his hips to snap his cock into you over and over. The new position let that stupid piece of metal scrape perfectly against your walls, the head of his dick probably bruising your cervix. You were ruined, no thoughts in your head. You were letting out slurring moans of his name and pleas for…you weren't even sure at this point. He had fucked you stupid.
"(Y/N), pretty girl, where can I cum?" His thrusts had gotten more erratic, he wasn't able to hold back anymore.
"I-inside." You moaned, able to form a complete thought.
"Yeah?"
"Please." You keened and this sent him over the edge. Getting as deep as he could, he swallowed your moan, sliding his tongue back in your mouth, painting your insides white. The hot sensation gave you another orgasm, not nearly as strong though, and it was a relief. As the spurts of cum stopped, he pulled away from your mouth and he  chuckled at the fucked-out look you had.
"I'll let you rest, sweet, but then I'm going to fill you up again."
-> Woozi's <-
-> Wonwoo's <-
-> S.Coup's <-
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Master-Master List
Seventeen Master List
Taglist: @gaslysainz
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silentcryracha · 1 year
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❍ ‗ Taking care of you during your period x hyung line (skz) ‗ ❍
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Pairings : Chan x reader, Minho x reader, Changbin x reader, Hyunjin x reader
Genre/warnings : reader has periods, breasts are mentioned, mention of painkillers/mood swings/blood (yk), nothing else just fluff and really sweet boys
Summary : Like the title says, the oldest boys take care of you when you have your period. You are their s/o in this. Half headcanon and half scenarios.
Word count : 1.5 k
A/n : I'm currently on the FLOOR trying to get through this so I just, indulged myself I guess lmao! I hope it'll be an enjoyable read and also if any of y'all is also suffering now, good luck babes we got this <3
ps: There could be grammar errors, my first language isn't english!
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
Chan ‗ ❍
First of all, he wouldn't be weirded out or immature about it at all, he grew up with women in his family so he wouldn't be completely oblivious. Second thing, he seems to be natually very nurturing and attentive, so you know for sure that you'd be well taken care of, more than usual.
Depending on how this time of the month would be for you, he'd act accordingly. For example, if you are usually on time or late, if you tend to suffer more or less. In general he'd probably remember the days/week and always make sure to have a little bit of every essential thing at home beforehand. Sanitary products, painkillers, snacks, comfort food; you name it, he got it. Wether you lived together or not, doesn't matter.
In the best case scenario you'd just be having a shitty day and he would make sure to spend time with you (full day if he's not working, and even then he'd check on you multiple times), taking care of you, cuddling and probably babying you more than you need. And you'd let him of course, even just to show him you appreciated him caring for you. He would be really attentive but... chill at the same time. He just wants you to be comfortable, not further stress you out.
On the other hand, if you were someone who usually hurt a lot or maybe had some issues related to your condition, then he would be more clingy. If hugs and cuddles were an actual solution you'd be CURED.
He hated seeing you in pain regardless, but if the pain in question was out of the norm/more severe he would absolutely be in the worst mood. Again, every supply possible would to be 100% ready at the right times, and you truly wouldn't be allowed to lift a finger.
"Channie, baby, I've been handling this stuff since forever, I'll be fine, okay?" and then he'd frown and pout like "But I want to take care of my baby, that's the least I can do". Of course you wouldn't be able to refuse him even if you wanted to, so you'd just end up accepting the help making sure to thank him all the time to let him know how grateful you were for him. <3
Minho ‗ ❍
Minho just kind of learned along the way how to take care of you at the best of his abilities. Something that seems to be very important to him is health, and you having your period to him it's almost like a seasonal cold. Something that just kind of happens? He would learn which foods or beverages help the pain/body, or the things that would make you feel better, but he'd be kinda random about it? lol.
"You know what? I really feel like eating some good meat for dinner" and he'd pull some shit like "Actually, I was thinking of salmon for tonight. You know, it would be very good for you now", Not gonna lie you would be lowkey impressed that he bothered to search up stuff like that in the first place. He wouldn't be pushy though, he couldn't deny you even if he tried. Want a specific dinner/dessert? It's yours. You want to watch a movie and cuddle? Done. Or do you just want to sleep and hug? Good enough for him. He just really wants you to have a calm and comfortable day.
This being handled as a health matter would also mean that he'd probably be quite precise with keeping track of the days/week. If being irregular wasn't a usual thing for you, one day late and he'd be asking questions lol.
"How are you feeling?" "Do you need anything from the store?" "Need any help?" and so on. Especially if we were talking about a person with more severe pain/issues.
At this point he would be a little more insistent with the whole "take care of yourself right" but only out of worry and you knew it. "I made some ginger tea for you" "But-" and you wouldn't be able to finish the sentence without him raising one eyebrow like 'I dare you'. Two minutes after the cup was EMPTY. You'd also get belly rubs with warm hands afterwards so it's okay :')
Minho would never miss to make you feel loved and taken care of, it's like he needs you to know that you can count on him whenever you need.
Changbin ‗ ❍
Changbin also grew up with a sister but I feel like he was the baby of the family so I think he'd try to replicate that more than anything. His s/o would be treated like royalty regardless, don't get me wrong, but during this time I feel like he'd feel bad for you and the fact that he can't really help, and would try to 'fix it' by indulging you a lot.
He probably wouln't keep track of the days/week, just in general. But, I think that he'd realize it quickly when you start acting a little off or being fatigued, and at that point he'd piece it together quickly and offer his help if he can. And if he can't, then he'll just settle with random gifts that could cheer you up. It could be something cute like a plushie, a treat like your favorite sweets, or something more unique like an expensive gift. You don't want him to spend such money on you, but you lowkey know that's his love language and appreciate it ten times more for it. He would also remind you of it "Shh, you know I love to spoil my princess", that would make you melt and he knows it well.
In a more severe case I think that he would make sure to not let you lift a finger. Dinner? Dishes? Medicines? Cuddles? Tissues for a particularly off moment? The remote being an inch too far? HE'S GOT IT. Changbin would also probably try to be there for you physically during this time and would get annoyed when he can't manage. At that point expect multiple calls and texts throught the day and maybe even a few cute selfies too that would never fail to make you smile and lift your mood.
If you happened to be crying, he would try to handle himself but just wouldn't be able to do it so you'd probably have a nice liberating ugly cry session together and then fall asleep hugged comfortably :(
He would also make sure that you're comfortable wherever you are, and that usually means completely laying on him, the best pillow in the house.
Hyunjin ‗ ❍
Hyunjin is shy and an empath, we know. I feel like at the beginning of your relationship he could be a little uncomfortable handling this situation, mainly because he'd like to help in some way but would be unsure of how to ask. You would also probably try to hide it or not mention it, you know like in early stages of any relationship, but out of shyness more than anything. You know he's a very sweet guy and he would probably feel bad that you feel bad. And he does.
One day during movie night you'd probably unintentionally flinch or hiss at the pain and then he'd decide that he had ENOUGH and would blurt out a "Can I do anything for you?". You'd be kind of taken aback but appreciate it a lot. You would give in "Yes actually" you wouldn't have to say it twice before he's back with what you asked for.
From that moment on I feel like it would be a process for him to learn how to know you and your needs and after a while he would just...do it. Which were your habits or comfort foods, your preferred type of sanitary products to use, what could make you uncomfortable and so on.
I feel like he wouldn't necessarily intentionally keep track of it but would randomly look at the date and go "Mhh, isn't this that time of the month?" and you'd probably show up with a belly ache and an extreme need of hugs so yeah he'd be like "I figured" and kind of laugh at you being cute.
You'd probably have something silly like a "Cursed week" playlist to cry to or a specific list of things to watch that would absolutely wreck you emotionally because why not. And you'd plan it together and go back to them like a routine. You probably have a very sad or angsty tv show/drama that you go back to once a month just to either cry your eyes out or comment together like two bitter old ladies. And you have a blast.
Hyunjin would try to be lowkey about it though. Once he learned how to properly take care of you he would just do things and not be obnoxious about it. Like he would be they type to leave a sticky note for you before leaving for work that said "Good morning my love. Remember to take it easy and take some medicine if you need, I love you <3"
In general I think that he would be the type to try and distract you as much as possible, wether it was with some nice cuddles to warm you up or even tease you to make you laugh. He could be out of pocket sometimes but that's exactly what makes it hilarious.
.・。.・゜✭・.・✫・゜・。.
This is it for the hyung line! Maknae line link. Hope you enjoyed my silly writing, feel free to leave feebacks if you feel like it :')
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wangxianficrecs · 6 months
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Rewind 2023 - Follower Recs
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WangxianFicRecs - Rewind 2023
For our Rewind 2023, our dear followers were also able to submit Follower Recs of their favourite stories published in 2023 for you to enjoy! Thank you to everyone who shared their recs and make sure to give the authors some love!
~*~
Lovely fic, the worldbuilding really got me hook, it is background but absolutely fascinating. -Anon
The Lines of your Soul
by athena_crikey
M, 24k, Wangxian & Nielan
Summary: At this point he just wants to get Lan Zhan horizontal so he can sleep off the drugs that are making him make little confused snuffling noises and ask questions like “How soft is purple?” and “Where did the moon go?” and “Why does Wei Ying smile all the time?” Lan Zhan under the influence is cute, and it makes Wei Wuxian genuinely angry because he cannot appreciate it. This is not something Lan Zhan chose, this is not even an accident, this is an intentional violation and none of the sounds or questions or wide-eyed glances Lan Zhan is giving him are his choice.
~*~
Not an easy read, there is a lot of hurt there, but how lwj and wwx behaved in such an awful situation really got to me. -Anon
swallowing rocks, swallowing peach skins
by AvoOwO
M, 24k, Wangxian
Summary: There is an indescribable rage boiling within Lan Wangji's chest. Lan Wangji has often heard stories of unsuspecting travelers being taken from their camp within the night, held against their wills only to be somehow found weeks later, dead and in the most horrid of states. Stories are hard enough to read about. It is worse, he thinks, when it is Wei Ying he is here with, gagged and bound in the same way. They walk, and walk, and walk, and they do not stop.
~*~
Lwj and wwx are just. such disasters. and I loved their jobs, especially lwj. it was a very enjoyable read. -Anon
To See You (Again)
by FrameofMind (@frameofmind6), Jo Lasalle (Jo_Lasalle)
E, 84k, Wangxian
Part of Bottomji Big Bang 2023
Summary: A new job brings Wei Ying to London, and back into Lan Zhan's life. Many things have changed since their time in boarding school (Lan Zhan is out of the closet, arranges charcuterie boards, stocks a fine bar…), but their friendship slots right back into place like no time has passed. Wei Ying is a little perplexed by the fact that Lan Zhan apparently doesn't have any interest in dating anyone despite being an obvious catch—but hey, at least that means he doesn't have to fight anyone for Lan Zhan's time and attention. And besides, it's not like Wei Ying is in any big rush to find himself a girlfriend either. It’s all working out great!
~*~
This story is a ton of fun and such a different and interesting concept. @danegen
Pairfire
by PaidSubscription
E, 65k, Wangxian
Part of Bottomji Big Bang 2023
Summary: Welcome, young cultivators, to the most important event of your lives: your Coming of Age Symposium. At dawn tomorrow, you will be assigned to your pairmate. You will then complete the following courses together. Week 1: Love Languages (core course) Week 2: Conflict Resolution (core course) Week 3: Guided Gender Selection (core course, ongoing) Week 4: Caring for Your Pairmate in Distress (elective) Week 5: Heat Week (elective) On your final day you will choose which permanent A/B/O gender is right for you. We will provide guidance as you try each of them in the coming weeks. Good luck. OR: WangXian are unexpectedly paired for a relationship course. Shenanigans, pining, gender feels and horniness ensues. With art by Beanie.
~*~
This series was so much fun, especially watching Lan Wangji's lust for Wei Wuxian from Su She's POV. And I'm grateful the author included a second part so we can see all the bits we missed and how wangxian got together. Also lwj's competency kink for wwx's brilliance was gold. @gentil-minou
💙 The epic college romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan
by KizuKatana (@kizukatana)
E, WIP, Series, 57k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary part one: The (bitter) third party pov of the epic college romance between Wei Ying and Lan Zhan, as told from the pettiest NPC to ever exist. - - - - - A new student transferred into the university in their second year, and Su She was gleeful to see how much Lan Zhan was irritated by him from the very first day that the student (Wei something) showed up late for class with a ratty hoodie pulled up over his head and proceeded to sleep through lecture. Finally, someone else would be the butt of everyone’s jokes as they watched Wei Ying constantly try and fail to get Lan Zhan’s attention. When midterm grades came out, Su She was expecting the guy to be humiliated. That was… not what happened. Worse still, Lan Zhan was now actually turning his head to look at the guy when he spoke. And... wait, was Lan Zhan… putting his hand on the guy’s ass?! No. Su She does not accept this.
~*~
I love historical aus and Greaser!WWX with GoldenBoy!LWJ is one we know well, butI love this fic for all the heart it has and the way it covers setting-typical homophobia. Wangxian get a happy ending and then the epilogue at the end really just made me feel all kinds of feelings about being queer. @gentil-minou
Mad about the Boy
by TriviasFolly (@triviasfolly)
M, 62k, Wangxian
Summary: It's 1954, and Lan Zhan's life would be going well if it wasn't for the charming Wei Ying. Did he say charming? He meant annyoing. If it wasn't for that smile Lan Zhan could accept the future planned for him, the job as Cheif Surgeon who returned home to a demure wife who'd cook him dinner and asking him about his day. Instead, he finds himself dreaming about something more. So when Wei Ying offers him a deal, one that would get him out of Lan Zhan's life he took it. When the evening goes wrong, Lan Zhan expects his life to be over. Instead, he finds it's just the start of a new chapter.
~*~
The way this author made the story of the Scarlet Pumpenel fit in mdzs is, in my opinion, masterful. The arranged marriage is built on devastating misunderstanding after devastating misunderstanding, but the identity shenanigans are so fun! Other highlights include Jiang sect love and wangxian adopting not only A-Yuan but MXY as well. So much fun and an epic adventure! @gentil-minou
The Scarlet Lotus
by rainbowninja167 (@rainbowtitania)
M, 137k, Wangxian
Summary: In the years following the Sunshot Campaign, the mysterious, masked cultivator who’d defeated Wen Ruohan took on many identities: the Yiling Patriarch, leader of the Wen rebels, enemy of the Jin Sect, practitioner of wicked tricks. His true name was shrouded in mystery. He always wore a mask. He carried no sword; wore no clan colors or insignia. Clouds of resentful energy clung to him as he walked. But there was one thing that absolutely everyone agreed on: the Yiling Patriarch could not possibly be from the Jiang Sect. Or: a Scarlet Pimpernel-inspired fix-it featuring Wei Wuxian in disguise, Lan Wangji determined to bring the nefarious Yiling Patriarch to justice, and the hijinks that ensue when you accidentally marry your greatest enemy/love of your life.
~*~
Another fun and sexy fic built on misunderstandings but I love the tone of this one! There's a lot of heart in this fic along with some real world issues along with just lots of wwx love, which makes this fic something i reread again and again! @gentil-minou
With No Particular Affection
by Chrononautical (@chrononautintraining)
E, 92k, Wangxian
Summary: A prominent physicist and professor, Wei Ying has built a life for himself in Chicago. He's safe, he's happy, and he has plans for his future. Unfortunately, those plans are derailed the moment he finds out his brother is in trouble. To save the family business, it will have to be Wei Ying's life on the line. He has to marry his old high school crush, Lan Zhan.
~*~
wangxian exploring their sexuality while getting to act their age in cloud recesses is such a wonderful premise, and I love the way this fic lets them not being good at it. Also the little excerpts from the book throughout were such fun and always made me giggle! @gentil-minou
Fentao-laoshi's Guide to Cut-Sleeve Pleasures
by occultings (microcomets) (@microcomets)
E, 31k, Wangxian
Part of the good place server exchange 2023
Summary: Lan Wangji says, “I am also looking to . . . gain practical experience. It seemed mutually advantageous.” “Mutually advantageous,” Wei Wuxian echoes. “Wait. Do you mean I’d get to . . . ?” Lan Wangji stares at him. “Practice — on you?” Wei Wuxian finishes, his eyes round with disbelief. — During a shared summer studying in the Cloud Recesses, Lan Wangji and Wei Wuxian diligently pursue an informed sexual education. What could possibly be the harm in some mutual learning?
~*~
the most heartbreaking, angsty, canon setting arranged marriage au i've read so far, in the best way. We get to see things from LWJ's pov and while his actions make sense, it's still so devastating as we watch WWX be affected by it all. The happy ending makes the hurt all the better too! @gentil-minou
💙 Concord
by Deastar (@youhideastar)
T, 41k, Wangxian | Kay's Rec
Summary: Lan Wangji hopes, somewhat frivolously, that his betrothed might find him an acceptable companion. Neither he nor Wei Wuxian are able to bear children, so there will be no need to share a marital bed; that should make it easier for the two of them to reach a natural, comfortable equilibrium. Two strings played in harmony: this is Lan Wangji’s quiet hope, as he arranges the Jingshi to accommodate a second inhabitant. Perhaps, he thinks, they might even become friends.
~*~
MothXian and WitchJi!!!!! The art for this au is always so lovely, and this fic fits it perfectly! The author has this gorgeous, dreamy prose that really enhances the setting and the sweetness of wangxian in this is so beautiful. @gentil-minou
light a lantern (and guide me home)
by xuanxuanwo (ostentatiouslyrealistic) (@xuanxuanwo)
T, 63k, Wangxian
Summary: At first, he thinks he’s caught a bird; it’s the size of one of his palms and wrapped fully in damp feathers. As he shuffles toward the beam of light that streams through the open window, he wonders how it managed to fly into his lantern, shut the door, and latch it against the wild gales of the wind. Then, he takes a closer look, thumbing across its feathers, and realizes that they’re not feathers at all. They’re leaves. Startled, Lan Zhan shifts as gently as possible and, using the tip of his finger, parts them to reveal a body, complete with tiny limbs and a small face, all of it wrapped in the dress made from peony petals. “Oh,” Lan Zhan breathes softly, heart clenching. “Oh, what are you?” -- A thunderstorm brings tea master and herbalist Lan Zhan a companion he never knew he needed. A tale of love, loss, and letting go.
~*~
Rockstar!WWX and Bookseller!LWJ and they are just the cutest. Notting Hill is a classic romcom and this fic fits the romcom vibe perfectly. @gentil-minou
When the Lights Come Up
by brooklinegirl
E, 50k, Wangxian
Summary: Lan Zhan's brother draws to a halt next to him, staring at the man on the other side of the counter. "Oh, it is you, isn't it?" The man, still propped against the counter on his elbow, gives Lan Huan a grin, then directs it at Lan Zhan again. "I don't know," he says. "Is it? Am I?" "You are." Lan Huan is hurrying around to the other side of the counter, a wide smile on his face, while Lan Zhan looks on, feeling more and more perplexed, like he's stepped into some alternate universe where absolutely nobody is making any sense at all. "Wei Wuxian! Lan Zhan, do you know who this is? It's Wei Wuxian!" Lan Huan is reaching for the man's hand, and he pushes himself lazily to standing, shaking Lan Huan's hand warmly. "In the flesh," he says. "You caught me." "My goodness." Lan Huan is staring at him like he's never seen a human being before in his life. "What on earth are you doing here, of all places?
~*~
magical wangxian who adopt mo xuanyu in a setting that's written so vividly, the whole place comes alive! it's part of a larger series but it can be read alone, but most importantly the characters are so patient and kind with such great moments between them all @gentil-minou
quiet, blooming hours
by Sanguis (@bel-ennui)
T, 13k, Wangxian
Summary: Fingers push through the earth, and a long lost boy takes the first gasping breath of his second life. The house of buried things has a new surprise for Wei Wuxian and Lan Wangji.
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