#(i may be almost 18 but i know its not really good that i relate to the themes in the show and im not qualified to talk on it really) | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

heich0e · 1 year

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bittersweet - vash the stampede/f!reader (trigun stampede): 7k, listen there's only been 2 eps and i don't know the lore so i am loudy and emphatically declaring creative license, in my mind this is set before the start of stampede but not by much, heavy on the wild wild west core here, light angst, smut, fingering, needy vanilla sex, domesticity, mentions of alcohol/alcoholism, boot-throwing related violence. 18+ NSFW MINORS AND AGELESS BLOGS DO NOT INTERACT

The desert smells bitter.

You wouldn’t think that sand would smell like much at all, but the fragrance that hangs perpetually in the air is heavy, singed, and acrid with the heady scent of life and its misery. Waste and runoff make their unpleasantness acutely known on the hottest days, and the fumes from old machinery that’s barely functioning thanks to age and disrepair—that no one can afford to fix, so they have to hold out hope it keeps running—clogs up the already noxious atmosphere as it rattles on throughout the day.

Mama used to tell you that outside of Jeneora Rock, the world smelled different. There’s somewhere else past the walls that mark the edge of the only town you’ve ever known, even past the wastelands—a place where almost no one ever goes, but that your Mama saw once. Or at least she said she did.

She told you it smelled clean. Sweet. Untouched by anything but the sun’s heat and the five moons’ glow.

Mama’s gone, has been for a long time now, and even though she never had much to give to you in the first place, that story is the most precious thing she left behind. You think about it almost as often as you think about her.

The end of another long day is marked by a familiar heaviness to your bones. Between the suffocating heat that makes you groggy and a hard day's work, there’s a palpable weight that bears down on you as you climb the never-ending metal stairs to your front door—your feet drag a bit more with every step.

The lock to your home is getting hard to turn. You’ve noticed it a few times now: a resistance as you slip your key into the keyhole, a pressure as you urge the mechanism to turn and let you in. There may be sand built up in there to clean out, or maybe it needs some oil.

But oil costs money, of which you don’t have much, so you really hope that it’s the former rather than the latter.

You examine the keyhole once you manage to force the lock open, dropping to your knees outside your door to peek into the narrow opening on the tarnished face of the lock. It doesn’t do you much good because the sun’s already dropped dark, and even if the light of day still hung overhead you doubt it would be enough to make the issue any clearer. You drag your thumb idly along a little scratch beside the keyhole that's probably been there for years; the metal is still warm to the touch from the heat of the day that still hasn’t quite broken, the surface a little rougher where the score is chipped in.

You sigh, picking yourself up off the ground and dusting off your skirt, and turn the knob into your home.

It’s dark when you get inside, but something feels wrong.

You shut the door behind you as you enter, pressing your back flat against it as your eyes struggle to adjust to the dark. Your home, like every other one in town, isn’t really much to look at even in the plain light of day. You’re luckier than lots of people though, you’ve got a couple rooms all to yourself where some families have no choice but to cram many people into just one. Papa left you this house, cause now he’s gone too just like Mama, but not much has changed since the day he left it to you—except now there’s less empty bottles rolling around underfoot, and you get to call the little bedroom off the main room yours.

It takes a second for your eyes to get used to the dimness with the door shut tight behind you, so you blink hard to make it happen faster. You see the rickety little table against the wall near the door, and the chair on the other side of the room where you sometimes sit by the window to mend your skirts when they wear and tear—but only when you get home early enough to catch the last few moments of sun, cause Mama always used to warn you about sewing by lamplight. The shutters on the window are closed and locked now, but there’s no light outside them to let in anyway.

Something shuffles in the dark.

Papa left you a gun, too. Even taught you how to shoot it. Mama hated that. She hated how good you were at it even more. She used to say that shooting was gonna be your husband’s job someday, and that even in a world this wicked Papa was teaching you things you didn’t need to know.

But now Mama’s gone. And Papa’s gone. And the world is still wicked. And you’ve got no husband, but you have a gun you know how to shoot.

You keep it and a little stash of 7 bullets underneath your bed where you can get to it quick, but it’s on the other side of the house, and even though that’s not very far away you don’t know what’s waiting for you between the door and your bed. You don’t know if it’s faster than you are, either, so running for it would be a fool’s errand.

Inside your chest, your heart starts pumping a little harder, ‘til you can feel the wet thump, thump, thump right in the back of your mouth.

You know you need light. You need to be able to see. You can’t make any decisions until you know what’s between you and your Papa's gun tucked up safe underneath your bed.

Slowly your eyes flicker over to the lamp on your table, just within reach.

You suck a little gasp into your lungs to steel your nerve. The air is less sour in here—more familiar, a little more comforting—but the acrid scent of the desert still lingers on the edge of each breath. Slowly you reach towards the lamp and flick it on.

“PLEASE DON’T SHOOT ME!”

The frantic plea frightens you so terribly that it sends you tumbling to the hard floor, landing flat on your ass with your back thumping painfully into the wall beside your door. In front of you is a face that has no right being as familiar as it is; eyes wide in panic beneath a round pair of glasses, blonde hair tousled in disarray, two hands (one flesh and one crafted) lifted in innocence.

Your heart is beating even faster now under the tight pull of your laced waistcoat.

“Are you an idiot?” you hiss, instinctively tugging your boot off your foot and lobbing it forcefully at the unexpected intruder. “You scared the daylights outta me!”

The man sidesteps the projectile easily, and it clatters to the floor. The expression on his face morphs from one of panic to something a little more chagrined.

“Sorry, sorry,” he says, drawing out the word. His tone sheepish, and his lips pull into an apologetic little smile.

You place a trembling hand on your chest, pressing down on the spot where you feel your heart thumping the hardest and willing it to slow. You stare at your scuffed floorboards and take a few breaths to ease the frenetic beat of your pulse, and feel yourself begin to wilt as the adrenaline in your veins starts to fade.

“How’d you get in here, Vash the Stampede?” you ask, looking up again at the man in front of you from your place on the ground.

“I knocked first,” he says with a grimace, “but you weren’t home and I…”

“Broke in because you’ve got someone looking for you?” you finish his explanation for him, your tone flat and entirely unsurprised.

He sighs, shoulders slumping dejectedly as his head hangs forward.

“I didn’t know where else to go.”

He lifts his chin only enough to guiltily meet your gaze.

“It’s just for one night,” he murmurs the plea, his bottom lip weighed down by a pout.

You shut your eyes tight, hands balling into fists over your skirt to hide the way they tremble.

“Fine.”

Vash falls to his knees in front of you, hands pressed to the floor as he gets right up in your face with a wide, cheerful grin. He’s almost nose to nose with you, the light of the lamp glinting in his glasses.

“Thanks so much! I promise I’ll be outta here before you know it!”

He doesn’t need to tell you that, because the pang in your empty stomach tells you that, even unspoken, you already knew it to be true.

Vash is travelling light again, just like the last time you saw him. He’s only got one bag that he begins to unpack onto the rickety table in your kitchen, leaving you to quietly go about your own business like you would if you hadn’t found him in your home that night. On the other side of the kitchen you unpack the meagre amount of food you’d managed to buy for yourself that day from little satchel you carried it home in. It’s barely enough food for one, and now you’ll have to stretch it between two.

“Where’s your father?” Vash asks as he fiddles with his gun at the table behind you. “I thought it was him coming through the door, and I thought for sure he was gonna blow my—“

“He’s dead.”

The silence that follows is heavy. Uncomfortable, even. Vash’s hands still even as yours keep quietly peeling the sad, withered skin from the vegetable in your hand with the blade of a half-dulled knife.

“I’m sorry,” his next words are quiet. “Your father was a nice man.”

“My father was a drunk who got himself shot in a bar fight with a merchant who came to town and was talking big. He just worshipped you because you saved the plant.”

That same uncomfortable silence creeps in again in the wake of your words, but after a few moments you hear Vash pick up his tools and start tinkering away at whatever he’s working on once more.

“Is the plant still running?” Vash is the first to speak again, though a fair amount of time passes before he risks another attempt at conversation.

“More or less,” you remark, setting a little pot on the stove to boil with whatever ingredients you’d been able to scrounge together into a meal. You watch the flame of the element burst to life as you flick the switch, a little hiss as the fire licks at the edges of your only copper pot. “Some days it’s more reliable than others. But whatever you did seems to be holding up all right.”

“Good!” Vash says behind you. “That’s good.”

You turn to face him, the unevenly mended hem of your skirt swishing around your ankles. You lean against the little countertop behind you, with your arms crossed behind your back.

“I’ll pop by the plant before I leave town—”

You watch as Vash’s fingers nimbly fiddle with his gun, broken down into its component parts to be cleaned and maintained. You’re sure it doesn’t need it—are certain he’s fired less shots from that gun in the two years since you’ve seen him than you’ve heard in town this week alone—but it’s kind of nice to watch him work, to appreciate how certain and precise his every move is, and to see how concentrated he is while he goes about it.

“—just to make sure everything’s still in good shape.”

He looks up at you, like for the first time he feels your gaze as it traces the lines of his profile. He smiles again, that same wide, willful expression of cheer that he always endeavours to wear even though he might be the person least entitled to it.

You hum. “I’m sure everyone would appreciate that. You should stop by to see Rosa too, she’ll box my ear if she finds out you blew though town and didn’t go see her.”

The two of you eat across the table from one another in silence. Just the scrape of cutlery and the occasional loud swallow passing between the two of you. Vash seems hungry, but appears to be trying his best to be at least a little restrained as he eats with you. Even though you’d given him the larger of the two portions, he’s still finished his plate before you’ve finished yours, but he sits patiently across from you waiting for you to swallow your final bite.

“I’ll take these,” he jumps to his feet before you have the chance to even push your chair back from the table, snatching both of your dishes up into his hands. “I’ll clean up, since you’re letting me stay.”

You don’t deny him, and instead slump back into your seat, dragging your wrist along your forehead. Your skin feels grimy from the hot day and the filth outside. Normally you would have bathed before you cooked, but you hadn’t eaten a proper meal all day—and Vash looked like it may have been even longer than that.

“I’m gonna wash,” you say, standing from your seat. You pause, your fingertips tracing against the rough, rutted surface of the tabletop. You know you don’t have enough water for two baths in your tank. You used to bathe with your mother when you were little, then once you were older and Mama was gone, you got the bathwater first and Papa would get in after you were done. It’s never been an issue until now. “Er—Vash?”

At the sink where your uninvited house guest is scrubbing at the dishes in the washbasin that you’d filled ahead of time, Vash pauses, glancing at you over his shoulder. He’s taken off his familiar red coat, left hanging off the chair he’d been seated in at the table, and the black turtleneck he wears beneath it stretches taut over the musculature of his back as it faces you.

“The bath… there’s only enough water to fill it once. I don’t…Do you want…?” you aren’t sure what you’re even trying to ask him, but whatever is coming out of your mouth is even less clear than the thoughts running through your head.

“I’ll bathe second, don’t worry about me.”

Vash’s smile is gentle and obliging, his eyes crinkling at the corners as they narrow into little crescents. You nod stiffly, feeling heat flush through you at the softness in his expression, and shuffle off towards the other side of your home while avoiding his gaze.

The walls of your home are paper thin, and you’re certain that Vash can hear the splash of water in the tub as clearly as you can hear the scratchy, garbled sound of his radio from the other room. Once your skin’s been scrubbed clean of the day, you sit in the water with your knees pulled to your chest and your chin tucked between them. You strain to try to make out what’s being broadcast, but it’s difficult to hear since the reception in town is always so piss poor, and whatever coherent bits of news you manage to catch are just as abysmal as always.

It’s strange, hearing someone else in the house. It’s something you didn’t realize had become so foreign to you in the time you’ve learned to live alone. The idle puttering in the other room is a sound you didn’t realize you had missed. You lean back and dunk yourself into the water, where everything goes quiet.

The bathwater never gets very hot to begin with—tepid at the best of times, which seems unfair given the climate—but you know it’s not fair to waste time in the tub when someone else is waiting for it. You pull yourself up out of the metal basin, careful not to disturb the stopper in the bottom of the tub, and dry as much water from your skin as you can. Once you’ve deemed yourself sufficiently towelled, you pull on your nightdress and a threadbare housecoat overtop.

Vash looks up from the chair in the corner by the window when you emerge from the bathroom, and he meets your eyes so unwaveringly it feels decidedly like he’s trying hard not to let his gaze wander elsewhere. You fidget under his stare, fiddling with the fraying ends of the towel around your neck that’s catching the droplets that fall from your hair. He must realize that he’s unnerving you, because he averts his eyes to a point on the wall over your shoulder after a moment.

“My turn?” he asks, his tone chipper but polite.

“All yours,” you nod, stepping into your bedroom and leaving him to his business.

There’s an old trunk at the bottom of your bed where you keep some of the things your father left that you haven’t yet been able to sell or make use of. You find an old shirt of his near the very bottom, soft and worn-thin from years of washing. It’s something you could have easily sold or traded by now, but that you couldn’t quite bring yourself to part with—though you’re certain the day will inevitably come when sentimentality can no longer outweigh your basic needs.

You stand outside the bathroom door for a moment, your father’s shirt clutched tightly in your hands. You can hear the splash of bathwater you’re sure has gone cold from where you stand, only a few feet and a thin door between you.

You muster your nerve and tap your knuckles lightly against the door.

“I have a shirt if you need something to—“

The door opens, and you find yourself unexpectedly facing the bare chest of your one-night housemate, still damp and glistening from the bath, lined with silvery scars that the low light catches on.

You toss the shirt at him unceremoniously and turn quickly away, and Vash himself makes a little sound of surprise.

“Sorry, I didn’t expect you to be—“

“It’s fine,” you answer before he can even finish his apology, still refusing to meet his gaze. You gesture vaguely over your shoulder without turning. “Just take that.”

The bathroom door clicks closed again, and you clutch the belt of your housecoat over your diaphragm.

You need a drink.

You cross your home to the cabinet in your kitchen, reaching to the back of the nearly-bare shelf and pulling out a dusty old bottle that’s been there since your father died. It wouldn’t have lasted a day if he were still living, and you’ve made it years without ever so much as cracking it open.

Today however, you feel it’s well-deserved.

The dust caked on the bottle smears against your palm as you open it, and you wipe the grime furiously against the material of your housecoat as you pour a long glug of the amber liquor into a waiting glass. It’s vile, lukewarm from the constant heat of your home, and burns every inch of the way down—but as you set the empty glass back onto the counter, you still find yourself grateful for it.

You pour another drink.

“Take it easy,” you hear a voice say behind you, accompanied by a breathy little laugh.

You turn and see Vash hovering not far from you, his black turtleneck folded over one arm and your father’s shirt over his no-longer-bare chest. His hair is wet, a towel draped around his shoulders just like yours, and he’s taken off his usual eyewear. The mole underneath his eye seems more prominent now that he’s scrubbed himself clean.

Your empty glass dangles from the tips of your fingers, the acerbic taste of the liquor lingering on your tongue. You hold it out to him in offering, and he scrunches up his nose a little bit.

“I really shouldn’t—“

“It’s rude to turn down a drink your host is offering you, y’know.”

Things like rudeness don’t mean anything to anyone these days, least of all yourself. Decency is a luxury few people can afford.

Vash sighs, still smiling, and takes the glass from you. Your fingers brush as it passes from your hand to his, and then you take the bottle and pour another healthy splash into the waiting cup. He brings it to his lips, wincing against the fumes alone that waft up from the glass.

“It’s better if you don’t sip it,” you offer him, though even then you know the guidance doesn’t help much.

He tips it back and drains it.

Two drinks were enough to have you feeling woozy, but you pour yourself a third for good measure. You spare Vash the pain of another, much to his apparent relief, and let him off with just the one before tucking the half-drained bottle back into the cupboard you’d dug it out of.

When you turn around again, Vash is crouched down, examining something on the ground.

Your boot. The one you’d thrown at him earlier.

He peers up at you from the floor, he lifts the shoe slightly.

“It broke again.”

A memory floods back to you then, unbidden.

Sitting side by side with Vash on the edge of the steps outside the same house you live in now, but when the way you lived was different. The plant had just been repaired, and there was a palpable feeling of effervescent joy sizzling through the town around you. An uncharacteristic camaraderie amongst the people of Jeneora Rock as the celebration of Vash’s handiwork spreading through the narrow, grimy streets. The two of you were away from it all, sitting quietly together in a strange sort of celebration of your own.

You were less a woman than you were a girl back then, but still somehow neither. He’d patched the sole of your boot back on when it had ripped loose. And you’d laughed when he handed it back to you with an endearingly clumsy flourish, the sound as high and bright as the sun that hung in the sky overhead. You still remember the way your laughter had made his smile grow.

The patch job had lasted a year. You’d sobbed the day it came loose again, just shortly after the death of your father. You’d been using twine tied tightly around the toe of the boot to hold it together ever since.

Vash blinks up at you from the ground as you stare down at him with what you’re sure is a vacant look in your eyes.

“I brought you something,” he says, hopping up and skittering over to his rucksack with your boot still in his hand. He rifles around in the bag for a moment, his mechanical arm shoulder deep as he roots for what he’s looking for. His eyebrows shoot up and he grins when he locates it—a wide, brilliant smile splitting across his face as he pulls his arm out.

He holds his find up in triumph.

You look at it with narrowed eyes.

“What… is it?” you ask, after a moment of trying to identify the small, relatively unremarkable little container in his hand.

“Boot glue!” he says excitedly, waving it in front of your face. “I thought of you when I saw it! The merchant wanted an arm and a leg for it but I managed to—”

Tears have sprung up in your eyes against your will, and you quickly turn away from him to hide them from his sight.

“Hey, are you okay?” Vash’s voice is softer now, less enthusiastic and more concerned.

That softness is what upsets you more than anything. Tenderness is a foreign thing in the desolation of the wastelands.

“Thank you,” you say quietly, scrubbing your hand over your stinging eyes.

For thinking of me.

For knowing that you’d come back.

You leave that part off, but you feel it just as much as what you say.

You drain that third glass that’s been sitting on the counter waiting for you, hoping the burn of the liquor as it sloshes down your throat to your stomach will give you something else to focus on. Or, if nothing else, that it might numb the sudden pain that’s laid roots down in your core.

Vash sits at the table as he patches up your boot under the lamplight, much like he had the first time. You watch him from the chair in the corner, under the shuttered window, with your knees drawn up into your seat with you. You’re more shameless now than you had been while he cleaned his gun, observing him keenly as he scrubs your boot with a rag and leftover water from the dish pan. He makes sure no more grime clings to it before he carefully smears a thick layer of the glue along the sole, pressing down firmly to make sure the adhesion takes. He holds the boot up in front of him when he’s done, his tongue poking out from the corner of his mouth, eyeing it from every angle to survey his own work.

You watch him just as raptly.

He turns in his seat once he’s satisfied, holding the boot up.

“All done!” he says, hopping up to his feet and shuffling towards you. He crouches down in front of you and holds out his hand expectantly. Slowly, you stick your foot out, and he cradles it gently in his roughened palm.

Carefully he slips the boot onto your foot, tightening the laces once it’s fully in place.

“How’s it feel?” he asks you, peeking up at you from his place on the floor.

“Feels good,” you reply, with an equally breathy tone.

The lamplight doesn’t reach this corner of the room quite as brightly as it does at the table, but you can still make out a blush that sits high and pretty at the top of Vash’s cheeks. You wonder if he’s starting to feel the flush thanks to the liquor, or if maybe it’s something else entirely.

“G-good!” he stammers a little, fiddling with the laces at your ankle. “I’m glad!”

“That glue must have been expensive,” you say. “Thank you, Vash.”

He shoots you a smile as he loops his fingers through the laces. “It's the least I could do, especially with you putting me up for the night.”

For the night.

Just for the night.

The reminder makes you ache a little.

Vash helps you slip your boot off again, carrying it over to the door and setting it down beside its mate.

“I’ll leave this here for you, in case you need it again,” he says, screwing the top back onto the little pot of adhesive at the table. “There’s not much left, but there’s some.”

You nod from your seat in the corner, one leg up and one leg still down—your nightdress drawn up to your knee from when he’d helped you into your boot.

Vash ruffles the hair at the nape of his neck, dry now after his bath. Yours remains a little damp, but you’re sure it won’t last long as the residual heat from the day still hangs in the air even though the sun has long set.

“It’s late,” he finally says after a moment. “You should sleep.”

You hum in agreement, moving to stand from your chair. The room spins slightly around you, those three glasses you’d knocked back sneaking up on you while you’d been sitting down. Your foot hooks in the hem of your nightdress because of the way you’d been sitting, but before you can stumble theres a strong arm wrapped around your waist to keep you steady. A warmth pressing into you as your face meets a heaving chest.

“Let’s get you to bed,” Vash murmurs, his grip on you tightening for the briefest moment.

Your hands clutch at his shirt, and you don’t meet his eyes as you nod, letting him lead you towards your bedroom.

Your hands fumble at the belt of your nightdress, pulling it off and tossing the garment across the end of your bed as Vash helps you onto the mattress. You tuck your feet under the thin sheet before leaning back against your pillows, and Vash is quick to turn and head towards the door after helping you pull it up to your waist.

“Wait,” you call to him before he can retreat. He pauses in the doorway, glancing at you over his shoulder. “Where are you going to sleep?”

You hadn’t thought much about this, and you ought to have considered it earlier. You only have the one bed, but you have two pillows you can share and a spare blanket in the trunk at the end of it that you could offer him if he wants to sleep on the floor.

But you don’t want to tell him that.

“I’ll just take the chair,” he says with a blithe smile, jutting his thumb towards the armchair in the other room.

It won’t be comfortable. You know that from experience, having fallen asleep there a few times yourself after a particularly gruelling day. The stuffing is lumpy and the springs are painful if you press against them the wrong way. You know he won’t complain about it. You even know that it’s probably still more comfortable than lots of other places he’s rested his head over the past two years.

But you want to be selfish.

For once you don’t want to be alone.

“Vash,” you say quietly, and you watch his entire body go rigid at the sudden bare vulnerability of your tone. “Please stay with me.”

You’d asked him the same thing once before, but different. The words once murmured desperately against his lips as you clung to his red jacket. Staring at him with eyes full of hope and a freshly patched boot on your foot.

He’d looked at you the same way back then too. That smile that doesn’t reach his eyes. As gentle of a no that he could ever offer you.

“I know you have to leave,” you murmur, eyes downcast to your hands as they rest atop your lap. “I don’t expect anything like that from you. I know it’s just for tonight.”

“Please don’t cry.”

The bed dips beside you, and Vash tilts your face up towards him. He looks troubled when you meet his gaze, even in the dim light of your bedroom you can make out the conflict on his features. It’s strange to see him not smiling, wrong almost.

But your eyes are dry.

“Stay,” you repeat yourself, meeting his gaze resolutely. You swallow hard over the lump in your throat, bracing yourself for the impending sear of rejection.

Vash cups your cheeks in his hands, and you can’t tell if it’s your cheeks or his touch that feels so warm.

“You deserve someone that can say yes to that and mean it properly,” he says ruefully, not dissimilarly to what he’d said the first time you’d asked the very same thing of him.

“I’m not asking anyone else,” you whisper, “I’m asking you."

You wonder if your mouth still tastes like liquor as Vash’s tongue dips inside of it, hovering over you as you lay sprawled across your bed.

It didn’t start like this, of course. The first kiss had been gentle, hesitant even—like Vash wasn’t quite sure if he was going to see it through at all, poised to flee at any moment. But neither of you could deny how right it felt when his lips brushed yours, an immediate wash of relief and of unadulterated want inundating you all at once. You’d been the one to crane up and bridge the gap, but soon Vash was crawling into your bed overtop of you, easing you back to lay flat as he succumbed to the same need you felt thrumming through your veins.

Your hands are tangled in his hair now—a gesture that earned you a pitchy, needy little groan from him as your fingers twisted through the blonde strands. It only seemed to make him more eager as he parted his lips against your own in a deeper kiss.

There’s something a little clumsy about it all, an eagerness and inexperience to every touch and graze. But it’s not the same as it was at first, no longer hesitant or wary—his reservations have been peeled away as surely as the clothes the two of you are wearing, until you feel nothing but his skin against your own.

Vash’s hands are as greedy and rapacious as his mouth; touching, grabbing, grazing anything he can reach. His calloused fingers cup themselves around the swell of your chest, squeezing lightly, and when you reward him with a little moan it stokes the flames of his curiosity, and his touch moves to the pebbled bud of your nipple next. He rolls it tentatively between his fingers, pinching ever so slightly, and when you gasp against his mouth, arching further into his touch, he makes his own little pleased sound of surprise before lavishing your other breast with equal attention.

His metal hand touches you more gingerly than the other, and he tends to favour the one made of flesh and bone. The contrast in sensations is a little disorienting—smooth, hard metal versus the life-roughened heat of skin on skin. It’s dizzying. You want more.

“Vash,” you murmur against his mouth.

Your lips are stinging now from the constant kissing. He’s scarcely left your mouth uncovered by his own since they first connected, but at your hoarse whisper of his name he pulls back slightly, watching your face for any sign of reproach.

“Touch me more, please,” you say to him, cupping his cheeks as he presses his forehead into yours, both of you sharing the same breath in the little space between you.

He makes a sound halfway between a grunt and a hum, nodding a little, and kisses you again as his hands slip further down your willing, waiting form.

If he’s surprised by the wet wet heat he finds between your legs, it doesn’t stop him. One finger and then two find their way inside you slowly; he moves in gentle thrusts and scissoring motions that have your jaw going slack. His palm presses against the swell of your clit, and each time your hips jump it grinds into the heel of his palm, earning a keen from the back of your throat.

“Feels good?” Vash trails kisses up the top of your cheek until his lips are by your ear. His breathing is laboured and the air of each breath is hot as it ghosts across your skin. Your tongue feels leaden, but you nod repeatedly, wrapping your arms around his neck and keeping him close.

“Yeah,” you finally manage to breathe out, “’s good.”

It’s even better when you feel the stretch of him pressing himself inside.

The sound that’s pulled from the depth of Vash’s broad chest as he carves his way into you makes your toes curl—high and sweet and desperate.

“’S hot,” he slurs, his hips giving a shallow, desperate thrust.

He’s needy, pulling you closer as he moves you how he wants you. He loops your knees up over his elbows, his mouth frantically finding it’s way back to yours as the weight of his entire body bears down on you.

The next thrust is harder, deeper. And the pace only increases after that.

The rickety headboard of your old bed knocks against the wall each time he brings his hips down against yours. It’s loud, but so is the sound of skin on skin, and you have the distant thought as the bed frame creaks that it sounds like it might splinter underneath you—but you don’t find it in yourself to care as the pressure in you core steadily builds, threatening to burst. It blinds and deafens you to anything but the pulse that pounds in your throat. It makes your fingers curl against the skin of Vash’s shoulder blades until your nails dig into skin.

He’s still kissing you, wet and messy and noisy as his tongue presses into your mouth. He never stops kissing you.

It's nice to be with someone. To be touched. To feel wanted and needed.

Especially by him.

Your eyes flutter open, and as though he can sense your gaze on him Vash’s do the same. His expression is heavy-lidded as he pants, a little drop of sweat sitting high on the edge of his blushing cheek. He smiles a little, a soft, gentle expression you’ve never seen before.

A tenderness in his gaze unlike any you’ve ever experienced.

The pressure in your core comes undone.

He takes your face in his hands as pleasure rips through you like a sandstorm, blistering and unescapable. He’s still kissing you. Keeping you so near. In the haze it’s hard to tell where you end and he begins, everything clouded into something thats both and somehow neither. Something new.

“Close,” Vash whines, grinding his hips down against your own.

Your muscles ache, the pleasure has worn you raw, and your lungs are pricking with the need for a full deep breath you haven’t been able to draw into them now for some time. But even so, you don’t want it to be over. Can’t bear the thought of being apart.

The headboard rattles a few more times, and then the pressure between your legs is gone as Vash pulls out and spatters his spend across your stomach with a long, low groan.

It’s hot. The mess on your skin, the sweat that clings to you, the paltry breaths of air you draw into your lungs. Even the sheets of your bed have absorbed the heat from both of your bodies, sticking to your skin as you collapse into them in boneless heaps, chests heaving and hearts racing side by side.

You tilt your face towards the boy crowded into your narrow bed beside you, and find him watching you expectantly.

“You okay?” he asks, brushing a piece of hair away from your eyes.

You hum, leaning into his touch.

Vash’s gaze travels down your body, eyeing the mess he’s made of you with wide eyes. He pops up suddenly, clambering out of bed and tripping clumsily over the sheet that’s fallen half-way off the mattress as he skitters out the door. You’re not too worried that he’s going far, considering he’s still stark naked, but you watch the doorway curiously as you wait for him to return.

When he does, he has a cloth in hand—still damp from your bath earlier in the evening. As gently as he can, Vash cleans you up; the cloth cool is against your sticky skin, and feels nice. Once he’s satisfied with his handiwork, he presses a kiss to the valley between your ribs, lifting his face to smile up at you.

You shoot him a feeble smile back.

He slips into bed beside you once more, crawling up towards the pillows and pulling the rumpled sheet up to your chins as he goes. He settles in, and with one sweep of his arm he tucks you safely against his chest, with your ear resting over his heart. His hand pats gently along the back of your hair down your spine, keeping you close to him.

Vash smells good. Clean and comforting. It makes you think of the place your mother told you about once. You wonder if he smells like that place, or maybe even better.

You wonder if he’s ever been there before.

You wonder if he’d tell you if you asked.

You open your eyes, though the effort pains you in your exhaustion, and you see him peering back at you. Vash’s lips pull into a smile, but it's one of the ones that doesn’t quite meet his eyes. An expression that you know is more for you than it is for himself.

You think the two of you have a lot in common, then. That maybe the two of you understand the same loneliness. The same feeling of being haunted.

Your ghosts live on in the trunk at the end of your bed and at the back of your cupboard, covered in dust, tucked away out of sight.

Vash’s live on inside of him, and it’s where he seems determined to keep them.

In that moment you know that even if you were to ask, he’d tell you nothing—and he’d do it for your own sake.

Tomorrow you’ll wake and the air will smell bitter and burnt, and he’ll be gone, but your boot will be mended, and the little pot of glue will remind you he was there. But tonight you’ll dream about the place your Mama told you about, and tomorrow you’ll still have the smell that clings to your sheets. So for now, the world smells different.

And that has to be enough.

#vash the stampede x reader #vash the stampede x you #vash x reader #vash x you #vash the stampede #trigun stampede fic #trigun stampede writing #writing

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lovely-oh-so-lovelyyui · 5 months

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Reiji - House of Chanel

Inherently, I think this went well especially with Chanel being such a traditional fashion house but also with its very feminine undertones. In comparison to some of the others, calling Chanel Reiji’s brand was more symbolic than realistic but I’ll explain.

Chanel in all its years since 1910’s has the same iconic look, the tweed structured suits, and the armoured corset dresses with delicate but impactful embellishments. It makes sense for Reji, he has this blunt yet sophisticated personality which physically manifests in his clothes; always well put together, tailored and steamed.

His suits may change but they maintain the same composition and colour palette, to the untrained eye they don’t look different but if you look closely he pays a lot of attention to what he wears.

He’s aware even as a vampire he still has the face of an 18 year old boy, there’s still that youthfulness present in his face, he makes up for it by wearing glasses he doesn’t really need but they highlight the aristocratic cutting of his face - with his sharp upturned nose, and bright red eyes.

He doesn't have his mother’s curls or his father’s pin straight hair but rather a wavy touch to his locks, he knows how it makes him look when it’s down, younger, softer …gentle and that’s just despicable! So he carefully styles his hair with mousse slicking it back, making him look more stern.

Reiji is also a lot more sensitive ( he’s a fussy, whiny little rich brat), so he can’t stand pungent smells ( blood, guts, drugs), that doesn’t mean he makes excuses to lose his composer so he has this strong cologne that is like sandalwood and kind of fruity? Like winter berries and tea leaves or something no one expected it to smell so good but he makes it work. Not to mention his hygiene is always top tier, so he has this freshly washed cotton and minty undertone.

So that's his main style right? So I was in between Dior and Chanel - and Chanel won of course

Mainly I mentioned before Chanel has more feminine undertones which I think expands well with Reiji’s complex relation with his brothers; whilst the misogynistic response to his trauma is still present he almost takes on a maternal role towards his family as much of the fandom has noticed - the reasons as why he does this is quite ironic actually. In his entirety, the persona of someone being capable is important for him, if he cannot be successful in maintaining - not only his family's name and reputation through the dictatorship of his brothers - how he holds himself in public how does he expect to be King?

Yet, all the care and attention to detail he gives is almost seen as motherly. The sheer unseriousness of it is not lost on me, even with all the rampant comments on the inferiority of women within the Sakamaki Home, the most well-adjusted and competent man is seen as feminine.

In other readings of Reiji though his feminine undertones are more purposeful, they come from the fact that him and Shu are perpendicular to one another because of Shu’s immense strength being seen as this "laid back protector archetype" as intrinsically masculine so Reiji’s more mentally vulnerable, cunning, shrewd approach is seen as more feminine ;dissect that how you will. My favourite though is Reiji picking up on etiquette by copying his mother who was a figurehead for women in the vampiric society.

Also reflected in Coco Chanel who is like, not a nice woman but she did have her moments - a cause for much scandal was her pioneering for trousers and women's athletic wear believe it or not, she was a big equestrian ( is that not the most Reiji sport ever?) and encouraged women to wear equestrian kits.

I think this also goes really well with his character in terms of politics, the synonymous nature of being a traditionalist yet paving the way is a part of Reji. He very strongly believes in the House of Sakamaki and what it stands for but he also like his father wishes to further vampiric society from it’s barbarism; in some ways he is a cultural snob but in others he’s quite attentive to the the silver lining that maintains modernism and the old ways.

The House of Channel also does this; it has always had its roots cemented in the old ways of aristocratic luxury items, but unlike many other fashion houses it does try to adapt to the changing times sometimes successfully, others not so successfully.

On a less serious note, in general I think it suits his aesthetic as well; as I’ve mentioned the iconic Chanel suits, but also the Corsets? Like Reiji is a big corset man I don’t care what anyone says, the timeless figure of archive Chanel pieces, the monotone colour scheme of darker colours. Moreover, even the chic pieces take inspiration from old money outfits: the arranged tulle of the Victorian era, the heavy contrast, the heavy gold pieces and brooches.

In comparison to Reiji’s fashion, with his fitted suits and tiny waist with the chain of his watch fob, as well as heavy contrast colours: blacks, reds, whites and navy’s.

Also the chunky jewellery makes sense in my head, it’s like masterfully placed so it doesn’t overwhelm him but I think the jewellery Reiji has includes: obviously the different chains for his antique watch, but also chunky rings seem more his thing than thin ones especially ones with carefully placed family jewels (rubies, emerald's, obsidians - as I said: snob) , this would do for more traditional attire too.

His outfits in the demon world definitely include brooches, and chains and pendants to embellish his outfit, eye makeup isn’t a big thing for him because it’s so fussy but he would definitely do darker eye makeup to bring out his eyes. He’s quite theatrical, and definitely plays into the ashy white vampire skin ( this is the skin of a killer Bella).

Overall, I refuse to believe he does casual clothing- like Reiji in sweats ( esp the juicy couture ones ) is a horrendous image. So yeah Reiji is a Chanel girl!

Also I can’t believe I completely forgot this but in the beginning Coco Chanel was overlooked by the media, in terms of her designs in the beginning of career because of a little brand called Polo…owned by Ralph Lauren that was also making athletic wear but also quite good friends with Coco Chanel

It’s almost like A certain someone who I said represented Ralph Lauren (Shu) overshadowing Chanel at first before she split off to make her own name.

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hermesgoestojuvie · 2 months

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do you have any permes hcs or fic ideas?

oh anon u have no idea what you've unleashed. the permes fic ideas are all i have some days, alas, im not that accomplished at the whole idea to words transition as i wish i was. i'll go into a few more concrete ones under the read more

Quick note: So like. All the things I plan to write happen when he’s 18+. and there's no sibling or parent incest. (bringing that up cause i got an. interesting dm once.) So this is just a quick disclaimer of sorts. And I’m not hating on anyone who wants to write or read something dark! I mean for instance I have a time travel Percy/Hermes brainworm that is considered dark and probably not what a lot of people want to read, so i'll tag it as such.

The One Where There is a War

Explained a little more in detail here but I have no problem talking a little about it again. It was inspired by this one perpollo fic that I'm still looking for so I can link it, bc trust me, it is GOOD. (edit: FOUND IT!!!! HERE it’s by @ghost-bxrd)The premise of that fic was a war between the gods and demigods, and my fic is meant to draw from that as well as some elements from Lore by Alexandra Bracken. It takes place post-second Giant war, but I'm toying with the idea of having the war and all related events, like gaea's rising, happen when percy is maybe 19-20? I'm not sure yet though. I might keep the timeline as is instead. For now, just know that it is post-second giant war.

Anyways, the premise is the new war the demigods have waged on the gods, when Percy, already a conflicted party to the war, comes across an injured Hermes when he is separated from his group of scouts.

2. Warning: Untitled For Now But It Is The Dark!Hermes One

you ever read child surprise by aphroditesfavorite or the breezeblocks series by violetmoreviolent?

Both are perpollo, and while I've not caught up to child surprise (i'm two chapters in, its been in my marked for later for a while, and ive had the tab open for ages, i just keep getting distracted lol) i know that it does deal with a time-travel trope, with percy, post-second giant and titan wars, waking up in the past, the day athena and poseidon compete over athens.

from what i hear, where child surprise is perpollo, there is a dark, forcecful hermes scene, which is absolutely not meant to be shippy btw! i heard from a friend who has gotten farther than me that the aphroditesfavorite has also stated that the shippy comments received about that hermes scene has made them uncomfortable so like, dont go reading it for that guys please.

breezeblocks meanwhile has a take on dark!apollo, a more ancient apollo, in a way. an apollo that you remember IS an olympian and all that may entail. i actually have caught up with the latest updates, and it takes place in the present. i dont want to go spoiling, but I will say that like, the way its all unraveling and unfolding is just so interesting, im high key invested.

@ashilrak and @mrthology have also written an absolutely heartbreaking, gutwrenching, exceptionally glorious banger of a fic, HAUNT ME, THEN- that also really captures the otherness and ancient, almost older, aspect of the olympians.

anyways, the reason i bring these fics up is because i just really love the idea that percy was born from the sea, while also acknowledging that one of my favorite parts of the whole book series in the first place is percy's connection to mortality and to his mother. reading child surprise really was root of a lot of ideas of percy emerging from the saltwater fountain in athens at the time of poseidon and athena's competition, with the idea that the trip to the past coincides with unwanted percy's ascension. it is not the birth of percy jackson the demigod, but in half, percy jackson the deity (the other half near coming to fruition in tartarus before he forced himself to stop.)

all that^ was just a very long way to say, this fic, im not sure WHAT it is yet, or where the direction its going in is, but we have established permes in the modern era, the time slipping happens when percy is struggling with keeping his impending ascension at bay, and then percy deals with a hermes at his like. prime? if thats the word. having to reconcile that with the softer versions they know later.

3. The One I've Been Struggling With

i'm just gonna copy/paste some stuff from my outline, like just the first two pages. this is the most concrete fic wip i have lmao. its all very rambly bc thats how the process goes for me so sorry abt that! anyways, starts below:-

an au that is not modern times, but perhaps in the past? Ancient Greek times? So more “ancient greek minded hermes.” Or if you think there is a better alternative, that would work too, I’m all ears. Trickster god Hermes (which he is) and minor immortal(?) Percy.

i dont know what percy's situation is yet. need to figure that out

i was looking at a comic and thought, trickster god Hermes would definitely pull something like this on Percy. And then I thought, what if, trickster god Hermes, sees this one man (Percy) and falls in love with him. But this man seems to pine for a woman who doesn’t love him back, and so Hermes takes her shape. (I don’t know who this woman would be. Annabeth? It could be her, but I also love the bond Percy and Annabath have in general, she and him are incredible friends. Rachel? I loved her friendship with Percy too.)

Anyways, Hermes taking their shape made me laugh a bit because wow Percy is getting catfished by a god. And then I was like WHAT IF- Percy himself is a minor immortal like. A young nymph-ish type. A prince of Atlantis? A demigod turned prince of Atlantis? I am not sure what he is, but, I am going to use nymph as a placeholder until I figure this out.

So sure, Percy is immortal, newly or otherwise, but he’s young and still not fully like, aware (I don’t know if that's the right word) about what it means to be immortal because he literally was born 20 years ago, which is normal mortal young man age. And Percy is like, “I’m as old as them and I want to live as them. I was them.”

His father is protective of course, he is aware of the way of the gods and how they chase pretty people. Poseidon warned him about gods, how they come and go, how he should never fall for one because loving one usually ends in tragedy or heartbreak- that to them hearts are easily won by tricks and discarded as easily. (Thinking again: mortal Percy turned immortal by marrying/mating with Hermes? Except, then I thought, Poseidon wants Percy to be immortal–if he thought Hermes showing interest and Percy reciprocating would allow for Percy to choose to be immortal he would probably begrudgingly allow it. So then….immortal Percy? Need to think)

The big Hermes reveal is when Percy is attacked or injured, or some other god shows up, and Hermes saves him but reveals his true form in the process.

BACK TO THE PLOT!!!

Hermes was like, I will have this nymph, and that is FINAL. And Percy is kind even though he is not necessarily always NICE, (it may be ancient greek but new yorker percy is timeless) he's sweet and cares so much. he’s a hero and so loyal. he's brave and mischievous and genuinely good, and Hermes is just. Blown away, by the way Percy loves, so deep and it consumes you, to be the one Percy cares for, Hermes thinks there is no feeling like it.

Hermes tells himself that Percy can't possibly be deserving of mortal love. So what if golden haired Annabeth (placeholder for now, still dont know if we're going the annabeth route?) is a warrior who can run like the deer and loves the very woods Percy does. No, he needs a god's adoration, a force to be reckoned with at his beck and call to fulfill his every whim the way Percy himself makes others feel. If people would be loved the way Percy loves, everyone would be a god.

I am laughing at Hermes taking the shape of Annabeth while talking to Percy, but also using the moment to talk up Hermes. Like if Percy is in his starry eyed about Annabeth phase, Annabeth wanting to have a sit down would be so exciting for him, and Hermes as Annabeth would be petty enough to be like lemme proselytize about myself, “have you heard of the great wonderful god Hermes?”

Percy being like, “Yeah my dad tells me every day, stay away from these people and then gives me a list of gods, why?”

Hermes immediately pissy

Percy is still talking, “so yeah Hermes is on the list too- why, Annabeth? Did something happen? you look...not well. Are you sick?”

Hermes, through gritted teeth, “with all due respect to... your father, I think you should hear about the god Hermes because he's not... whatever it is your dad said.”

Percy: Well, apparently the god Hermes fixates on pretty people and tries to get into their pants using trickery.

Hermes as Annabeth: CHOKES

Hermes-Annabeth: THAT IS SUCH SLANDER. I have never.... ahem, i have never heard of that about the god Hermes

^That was the first two pages. there's 11 more of me realizing writing is hard and i have commitment issues. but hopefully i finish at some point bc this is the fic ive poured some serious time in!

anyways, that was the three main fic ideas ive been tackling. i have had more that i immediately forget about, but just know, i can think about them all day!

#hermes #hermes pjo #percy jackson #permes #hermes x percy jackson #percy x hermes #percy jackson pjo #answered asks

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ms-m-astrologer · 2 years

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Transiting Mars enters Retrograde Zone

Timeline (current events in bold)

Saturday, September 3, 2022, 22:04 UT - transiting Mars enters pre-retrograde shadow, 8°08’ Gemini

Sunday, October 30, 2022, 14:26 UT - transiting Mars stations retrograde, 25°37’ Gemini

Thursday, January 12, 2023, 13:57 UT - transiting Mars stations direct, 8°08’ Gemini

Thursday, March 16, 2023, 03:58 UT - transiting Mars exits post-retrograde shadow, 25°37’ Gemini

The main intention of any Gemini placement (and remember, I am a Gemini!) is relating and connecting. To illustrate: almost 40 years ago I was asked (as a trivia question) where US Route 66 goes. “Chicago to LA,” I answered promptly. The man who asked was flabbergasted. “You’re too young to have watched the TV show!” Well, yes - but the Rolling Stones covered the show’s theme song on their first album, and that’s how I knew.

So there’s a definite intent behind Gemini’s unending quest for breadth of knowledge. How it’s going to play out in this Mars retrograde situation, I’m not sure! I have this vision of Mars being weighted down by carrying every possible known weapon as it prepares for battle. Which I guess is one way to end up avoiding a fight? Let’s look at Mars’ areas and figure it out:

Energy levels, physical strength - “cross-training” literally just now popped into mind: we may have been focused (say) on strength training, only to find that we neglected flexibility training. Another scenario is making the assumption that just because we’re skilled at one sport, we can do all the others equally well. Nope. Gemini tends to run on nervous energy and can ignore its bodily needs if it’s hot on the trail of some information; too much of this, over the next six months, and we could be looking at serious illness.

Sexuality - talk dirty! Unfortunately, when the time comes to act dirty, Mars will probably have found many other interesting rabbit holes to investigate, and may or may not even remember what he said. I also think this potentially could be a difficult time for - um - the more insistently cishet among us. Gemini refuses to see life in black/white terms, but rather insisting that everyone (to paraphrase Gemini poet Walt Whitman) is “large and contains multitudes.”

How we go after what we want - the problem with Gemini is that there are so many possibilities of manifestation. Gemini is clever, versatile, flexible, quick, and light-hearted. Which attribute will Mars need to learn?

During this the first pass of Mars through 8°-25° Gemini, we are going to become aware that Mars has some problems. We don’t know the right information, we’re too inflexible, we’re too sloppy, and/or we don’t take things seriously enough. After Mars is actually retrograde, then we can tackle the problems.

Here are some especially critical dates, when Mars mixes it up with the other planets:

Sept. 11-18: Mars/Gemini square Venus/Virgo and Juno Rx/Pisces. Some new relationship problem - mutable sign afflictions indicate a new problem. Our partners seem very critical, and they think we’re being critical of them. Or, good old commitment phobia strikes.

Sept. 25 - Oct. 3: Mars/Gemini trine Saturn Rx/Aquarius. This is a wonderful aspect; it’s like gratefully listening to the advice of a wise old elder. We have ideas that are definitely practicable. Hold that thought, though, until after Mars stations direct! There will be two more Mars-Saturn trines during which we can refine our ideas.

Oct. 1 - Nov. 11: Mars/Gemini trine Vesta/Aquarius. Another good one, giving us a lot of focus. We may have some long-term vision of a goal to pursue.

Oct. 4 - Nov. 30: Mars/Gemini square Neptune Rx/Pisces. This being in orb for almost two entire months is really unfair. Our best-laid plans don’t go agley, as much as they vanish completely. A baffled Mars is not a pretty Mars, and we have to deal with whatever shortcoming we find in ourselves.

#Astrology #Transiting Mars enters retrograde zone #Ms M astrologer

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linawritesocs · 1 year

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oh boy we're really doing this it's rollo's vp

listen, i know it's january 2023, but i'm still obsessed with the masquerade event and i want to make more content with that event and nbc students the urge to write masquerade vignettes is so strong.

so! sol adopted rollo's assistant and i adopted his vp. they are our sons now. and here's a profile i made for my boy!

also i should mention that this is how i personally see him and he doesn't belong to me BUT. we got no canon info so I CAN DO WHAT I WANT

name: cole rayne [コール- ・レイン]

age: 18 y/o

gender: male

species: human

birth date: july 29

zodiac sign: leo

height: 174 cm

hair color: his hair is more brown in canon, but tbh i see his hair being a bit more pink? i prefer to use "faded pink" for him, but it looks more "pale violet red" here.

eye color: his eyes are the same color as his hair and again, they look more pale violet red here.

homeland: ???

family: father, mother, grandfather, grandmother, three younger sisters

school: noble bell college

dorm: ??? (do i look like i'm good at coming up with dorm names)

school year: third year

occupation: student

club: none, just like sebastian, he prefers to check up on other clubs with rollo.

best subject: astrology

dominant hand: right-handed

favorite food: junk food and anything that you don't have to cook yourself and can easily buy anywhere.

least favorite food: his spicy food tolerance is extremely low, so yeah, he hates food like that.

hobbies: surfing the net, gaming, online shopping

talent: none. he's not particularly good at anything and he's not really trying to get better at anything.

unique magic: "disobeying the order". whenever cole misbehaves, forgets/refuses to do something or simply does something stupid, he can easily make anyone forget about it and he can get away with it that way. it sounds very useful, however, it has its weaknesses: cole can wipe someone's memory only if cole let that person down or "disobeyed their order", so it's not like he can always do that, he must do something bad before he's able to use his magic. and also, his magic has its limits and he can use it only three times a day. he accumulates blot very quickly as well, so he must be careful with it, he actually has almost overblotted once.. but no one remembers it. and if he uses his magic too often on a specific person, that person will start slowly losing their memories and if cole doesn't stop, they can end up forgetting even their own name. that person may also start feeling very tired most of the time and lose the ability to sleep.

dislikes: working, studying

personality: cole is a very easygoing and carefree person, who loves having fun and hanging out with other people. he's also very interested in romance and dating, so you can often see him flirting with someone.. and failing. he's actually very awkward, even though he doesn't seem like that type of person. though he claims that being awkward makes him even cuter and someone will definitely fall in love with him one day. he's very serious about it and if someone makes fun of him for being single, he will literally fight them. even though most people would describe cole as "energetic", he's a lot more lazy than they think and he refuses to do anything that he sees as "pointless" or "meaningless", which is pretty much.. everything. he tends to use his unique magic very often, so that he doesn't have to do any work and he can make other people do his job. but again, his magic does have its limits, so he makes sure to behave when he's not able to use it. also, even though he hates paper work and other "boring" tasks, he's very good at things that require talking to people and making connections, so yeah, there's a reason why he's still the vice president. he also often offers rollo his help with more personal stuff, like simply listening to him talk or helping with his problems that are not related to the student council's work even though rollo doesn't trust him enough to ask for his help and cole just appears out of nowhere and goes "hey, you need anything? :D" he's also the guy who makes tea whenever the student council is having a meeting and yes, he has to force himself to make it sometimes because of how lazy he is, but there is a reason why he doesn't let anyone else do it. and yes, that reason is "maybe if he shows that he can do at least something useful, he won't get kicked out". he also has a 13 year old boy's sense of humor, which means that he has the same password he uses for everything and it's "coleisthebest69420lolol"

notable relationships:

when cole just became the vice president, he thought rollo was a bit scary and he didn't know how to act around him. however, he quickly got used to his company and like two weeks later he already was like "HEYYYY WHAT'S UP BUDDY HOW ARE YOU FE- okay. okay, sorry, president. sorry, it won't happen again. sorry." he actually tries to get to know rollo better and he often asks him about his hobbies, interests, friends, family- oh, okay, it's a touchy subject, okay. now that he's a third-year and has more experience, cole claims that he knows how to talk to rollo now and he's proud of being his vice president.. but he became one not because of being good at his job, but because of his luck. he's also the type to randomly give rollo dating advice even though he did tell him muiltiple times that he doesn't need it. but cole thinks he does.

cole likes to call sebastian his best friend, though their relationship wasn't that good when they just met. cole kept annoying him and he didn't respect his personal space at all, trying to become closer with him. their relationship eventually got better, mostly thanks to sebastian enjoying doing the work that cole was supposed to do. LIKE HELLO HE CAN JUST MAKE THIS GUY DO EVERYTHING FOR HIM AND HE WON'T MIND, LET'S GO. and cole is the one who does most of the talking, if sebastian doesn't feel confident or comfortable enough. cole is secretly jealous of him though, because he thinks and knows that sebastian is much more talented than him and he's also jealous of his looks. it's not like cole is not pretty, it's just.. he thinks the assistant boy is more beautiful than him. but even though he's jealous of him, he's actually very protective of him and if sebastian gets bullied by someone, he's already here and he's ready to beat that person up.

cole met merrill during nrc students' visit to nbc and he thought he was interesting right when he saw him. he had a lot of fun talking to him and he jokingly tried to flirt with him once and he did not expect merrill to flirt back. so he ran away and hid behind sebastian because he is not strong enough for this. their dynamic is actually kinda funny because of how 😄😆😜🤣 cole usually is, but when it comes to merrill, he immediately goes 😳👉👈 they kept talking online after merrill had to go back to nrc and they're very close now.. but cole is still too scared to make the first move. he will punch anyone who makes fun of him for that.

fun facts:

he's actually not from the city of flowers and he lived in a small village before moving there, so he's kind of.. you know. he's a country boy, even though he absolutely loves the internet and knows all the latest trends. his family thought he should go to nrc at first and they thought he would feel right at home there, however, they realized that if he goes to a school like nrc, his behavior will most likely get worse, so they sent him to nbc, hoping that he will become more responsible there. his mom also comes from the city of flowers, so she knew a lot about it and she told cole everything he needed to know.

his sisters are much younger than him, the oldest one is 10 years old and the youngest one was born when he already started attending nbc and he was able to finally meet her only after coming back home for the summer break. he's not the best older brother though and his little sisters are much more hardworking than him.

his nrc dorm would most likely be heartslabyul and his phone case design is a reference to that.

even though the original npcs don't really have a height difference, cole is much shorter than sebastian and rollo. he's also the same height as avery.

if sebastian is inspired by snowball, it can be said that cole's disney counterpart is phoebus and his unique magic is a reference to phoebus being the captain of frollo's guard and going against him. however, cole's magic somehow manages to be a much darker, but also funnier version of it, because if his disney counterpart stopped following his boss's orders because he realized that he's been working for an evil and cruel man.. cole just uses his magic because he's lazy and he doesn't want to work. the dark part is that he mostly uses his magic on rollo, so it means he's been brainwashing the student council president for like.. a year or two. y-yeah.

no one knows about cole's unique magic because they obviously wouldn't remember him using it on them/in front of them and he also hasn't told anyone either. he also doesn't see a reason why he should talk about his unique magic, if their president's mood gets worse whenever magic is mentioned.

just like sebastian, he likes romance media a lot, though he doesn't really have a cute reason for it. it's just that romance media is one of the things that actually makes him feel something. for example, other student council members have noticed that cole is usually more interested in romance movies and comedies, but he's mostly emotionless when he watches something else, even horror movies.

according to molly, malleus's cousin who goes to nbc and hangs out with rollo, cole and sebastian, cole most likely has depression because they used their unique magic on him which allows them to understand other people's feelings better and they found nothing but emptiness inside of him, which explains why he finds everything tiring and he doesn't have any motivation.

cole becoming rollo's vp was the only moment in his life when he actually tried to achieve something. he tried to get the vice president position just because it sounded fun and he had nothing to do, also his mom said that he should try "doing something great" so that his life feels more meaningful. he got it mostly thanks to his luck, because most people were too scared to work with rollo and thought they didn't deserve it. cole was scared of him as well but he managed to get over his fear and rollo thought the student council could use a sociable and extroverted person like cole. also cole's grades were surprisingly good for a guy like him.. totally not because of his unique magic. totally. so it's actually kind of wholesome, cole doesn't want to get kicked out and he even agrees to do the work he finds boring so that rollo won't get mad at him, but only because being a part of the council is the only thing that makes his life more interesting and fun.

he also secretly works for seth's sister, luna, who ended up in twisted wonderland after trying to find her brother. the reason? uh.. she's pretty. that's it, really. he does start questioning her motives when he ends up getting attached to rollo and seth and realizes that luna is actually not a good person.

#ohhh he would definitely get along with vance i just know he would #vance wasn't allowed to come with others to nbc only because he would make too many fire puns #one day i will show how luna looks now. one day #anyway i love the nbc gang <3 that's it #lina draws ocs

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cj-writes-things · 3 months

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~Introduction Post~

Hi, I'm cj

My pseudonym/pen name is Chris Shades (cringe I know but it made sense at the time)

I identify as genderfluid and use any pronouns (including it/its and neos, I'm chill with pretty much whatever, not a huge fan of she/her but don't mind it all that much either)

🩷🤍💜🖤💙

At the time of this post, I'm 18 and in my freshman year of college as an english major

I hope to be a writer, whether it be books, poetry, songs, shows- you name it, I just love to tell a good story

I'm queer (somewhere under the bi umbrella, maybe on the a-spec, and as mentioned above, genderfluid) and neurodivergent (AuDHD and possibly some other things I haven't quite figured out yet), so homophobia, transphobia, ableism, etc. will not be tolerated here

Things I'll probably post about here:

*My writing (obviously)*

**Music**

Art of various forms

Personal stories/experiences/musings

Photography- if I ever get a good camera :')

Dreams/goals

Whatever my current hyperfixation/special interest is (usually fandom-related)

Mental health, psychology, neurodiversity, etc.

✨️Aesthetics✨️

And I'd totally love to discuss/answer questions about any of those topics!

I'm also very interested in history, mythology, space, animals, theatre, and travel

*For the most part, I intend to use this blog to post fanfics, poetry, songs, and pieces of the multiple book series I have in the works

I look forward to sharing my stories with you all, but I do ask that you engage with my work in a respectful and considerate manner. If you don't like something, obviously you don't have to read it; constructive criticism is welcome and even encouraged but don't just hate-comment bc I do tend to take things very personally, and please don't ever repost without credit or use my work without permission as I do hope to eventually publish some of this stuff

(Also, I absolutely love talking about my OCs and the worlds they inhabit, so please please please don't hesitate to ask me about them)*

**I cannot for the life of me recognize or comprehend the genres and I may not be familiar with every single song or artist but I live and breathe music, I love to sing, I'm listening to music in my earbuds almost 24/7, I really want to learn an instrument (planning to start working on guitar this summer) and maybe even be in a band someday, and I'm always happy to give or receive song/artist recommendations or share specially curated playlists (including OC/series based playlists) if anyone's interested**

Fun facts:

I have a little sister and three dogs

I love the rain

I want to learn sign language

I was in a horrendous production of Alice in my senior year of high school (I played the caterpillar)

I absolutely cannot settle on an aesthetic; I love so many of them so much, so my style is kind of all over the place

I have an awful, stupid sense of humor (think dad jokes, corny puns, etc.)

Contact options:

"Ask" button under the blog title

Messages here on tumblr

Email: [email protected]

Phone number: [REDACTED]

You can also find me on...

My main tumblr blog: @duck-in-a-thrift-store

Instagram: mx.harris05

Among Us: MxHarris (username), tiemint#1852 (friend code)

YouTube Music: you can check out some of my playlists here

That's it for now I guess, I might eventually be on ao3 and/or webtoon and if that happens I'll update this with the relevant info

~Tagging~

(subject to frequent changes/updates, still in the works)

Music:

#cj's music recs

#song of the day

#cj's playlists

Warrior cats fanfic:

#love over law

#LoL Secrets (arc 1)

#LoL Truth (arc 2)

#LoL character

#LoL song

Side note: since I can only have one pinned post at a time, the love over law master post can be found here

Other writing:

#miscellaneous short stories

#common tale with a twist

#the prince × the pauper

#new blog #intro post #blog intro #writers on tumblr #writerscommunity #artists on tumblr

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cutielatias · 3 months

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I find fatal frame a little interesting cuz despise being a horror game, if we look deep into it, the games are actually about very simple and sad themes/situations(all the horror games are like that,now thinking). Even the second one that I thought it was more horror cuz of the haunted ville theme,actually is about a more deep/simple situation, after seeing a text from the director talking about the endings/characters this becomes much more obvious. I'm going to try to do a mini analysi of "what i feel the situation of the game is about" and will be interesting to see from a twin's point of view(since the whole theme of the game is about twins (identical)/ twin's relationship). In shorts words, is about how much society/"life" tend to want to separate twins and how this is harmful to the twins and twins itself fear this fade.

●The ritual the ritual represents society/people's ideia(mostly adults) that the twins after reaching a certain age (adulthood(18)) they should be separated, so much so, that the people who perform the rituals are even the adults(i know i know, is because only a adult/"wise" person would know how to make a ritual duh, yeah but let's forget it the horror aspect and think in a more normal way, is very specific being adults, already showing that this demanding comes mostly from a authority/the people in general), people do this believing that this will be better for the twins or somehow this is more appropriate to society's standards, with that, the ritual in the game is even something said to be done for the sake of the village and their residents, the village representing society,how for society it's best the twins being separated, the thing of "becoming one" on the ritual, is a way of saying becoming one in a way of becoming "one person", without your twin by your side/without being around your twin,but just like in the game we can see that this is not right at all/this is something that the twins themselves don't like it/try to run away, even the twins that do the ritual didn't want to do it, and the twin's that stayed/lived none of them have happy endings or lived for to long after that. ■kiryu twins- if we seem the story in a normal way, basically, the other twin got so sad with the loss of her sister that she even got depressed and lose herself and gone crazy. ■tachibana twins- itsuki end up feeling so guilt and sad by living without/losing his twin that he end up commiting suicide so that they could stay together again. ■Yae and Sae-(this twins are kinda weird actually, doesn't even feel that wrong to separate they…, but fine) though we don't know much what happend with yae after she runs away, i think she didn't lived much longer after that, sae died with sadness and anger cuz of her sister breaking their promise, and yae becomes emotionless and died cuz she couldn't live with the fact that she left her sister behind.

None of them have good endings, even though it may seem like something good, live by your ownself "again" the fact of being such abrupt choice, that its not made by the twins own wish, makes very harmful.

●mio and mayu feelings In the beggining it's has a flashback of mio and mayu when they were kids( i never really understand much of this flashback before, i thought it only exist to show the similarite between mio and mayu with sae and yae, but now seeing the director commentary, even this scene have way more deep meaning and very twin relatable) mayu slipped on that day on purpose(and the same happend a little with that sae)mayu always felt that mio could lived without her, and while mio was slowly leaving her behind this thoughts become bigger and bigger, making her almost suicidal, so she decided to slipped/hurt herself so that mio could pay attention to her again(i find interest on the director words he says that mio also knew that mayu did that on purpose on that day, and this is such twin move, we can sense each other feelings, so we probably feel when one twin do something on purpose; but mio just didn't understand why she did that, but she feels, which is a very twin thing). both mio and mayu have the fear of losing each other or that somehow life will separate they, this is a thinking that a lot of twins really can have, since when we grow old, we end up building our own lifes,especially ordinary people, people date, have works, marriage and some even have kids, whinch are things that separate us, you can't always stay with your twin when you have this things (nowadays i don't have much of that fear but when i was a kid i used to think about it but now, not much, cuz i gonna be honest, i not normal(this is very obviously), so i probably wont have an ordinary life, and i don't feel me and ana's paths are much different from each other, so we probably will always stick and stay together)but for ordinary twins this probably a thinking. the meaning of mio and mayu journey is very relatable to that feeling.

●Final now we get to the end/the ending (or the conclusion or final message of the game, I think) it's difficult to say whats the game wants to say/express (because i think just like anything, its depends on the point of view),but I think the game just portrays a twin connection/relationship, and shows how the twin's bond is so strong to the point that not even a ritual where the twins kills/hurts the other, the twins will never stop to love each other, and it's also shows how it's a beautiful connection but at the same time there's a suffering and melancholic on it, the part of people wanting to separate them and the fear of the twins themselves if one day this happens and how the twins almost cannot live without each other (they can live but it will be an empty and depress life), and how the idea of separation is something painful for the twins, so much so that in the end where we kill mayu, I feel that the reason why mayu/sae wanting to kill themselves /do the ritual so much, comes from the feeling of both of them being afraid of their twins leaving them(a bit possessive…but ok~) but at the same time they know that this can happens and that it's also wrong to not let the other twin live their lifes, so they prefer to die, so that they don't see them and their twins separating cuz for them this is more painful than die, but at the same time also letting the other twin live their life/"be free".

#fatal frame 2 #random things #finally!!! i finished this text (dont know why took me so long)end up not even that big #But not gonna lie its was a bit difficult to explain the things (maybe the text can even end up a little confuse on the end)...#But whatever i tired so it gonna stays like that #This mio and mayu/sae and yae are kinda sus somethings on the game are kinda er*tic/yuri material(i not blind this game is sus)#...and i know that😑 but if we ignore this part it does portray a twin bond/feelings well #I think i gonna chance the beggining of the text cuz now i played the others fatal frames again and now i finded their stories kinda weak #I didn't like it #It's really only the second one that its more well done(the others do talk about simple/deep themes but for me they...#are not well developed)

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enochscribbles · 5 months

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Hiii!!! If it isn't to much trouble may I have (male) genshin matchup please. My pronouns are she/her. I tend to be shy around new people but I can be somewhat loud with people who im close to. My height is 5'0. I would describe my aesthetic as girly/soft/cottegecore, lots of long dresses and skirts.

Im not very athletic and im not a big fan of sports but I love to go roller and ice skating. I also love to read books and to also cook and bake food. I also like to garden. I've been playing the violin for 7-ish years. I love animals. I am currently studying in college. I like to Watch nature/animal documentaries. I also like sweets.

Somethings I dislike are people who bend or ruin my books and people who speak over me when im trying to talk.I love music, I can listen to any genre and like it but my favorites are indie,bedroom pop and classic rock. sorry if i spelt anything wrong. Hope im not bothering you:)

I am 18, so like I know none of the characters have like confirmed ages, but one of the characters who most people see as an adult lol (does that make sense? Lmao)

Hi! Thank you for the request. Like the last matchup, I wrote it assuming it’s romantic but tried to keep it ambiguous.

I wasn’t entirely sure about these (particularly as perception of that first character’s age varies), so I wrote two somewhat shorter. Sorry about that. (You’re not bothering me at all, don’t worry.)

Okay, first:

I’d match you with Tighnari!

So, Tighnari is very straightforward and stern with people who need it, but seems more friendly among good company

He’d make you feel completely at ease even with someone shy

(Although a small obstacle is that you may have to tone down how loud you can get around him, you know, for the sake of his ears. Sorry about that.)

He strikes me as the kind of person to listen carefully to what you have to say and not immediately dismiss people

Animals? Nature documentaries? Right up his alley, he could speak about plants and animals for hours, so if you’re interested in those things, you’ll likely get along well

As well as gardening, there may not be much of that to speak of in the rainforest but he loves botany

Since you mentioned studying in college, as a scholar, he’d be a huge help with coursework, whether it’s explaining facts, helping you stay on track studying, reminding you to take breaks- he’s really good at all of it

I’d also match you with Albedo!

Not an entirely different person to Tighnari, but more importantly, someone you could also get along with

First of all, the cottagecore/soft aesthetic meshes well with Mondstadt as a location and its characters, which includes Albedo, and I can see a few ways it could fit well

Spending time reading in the Knights’ library

Ice skating in Dragonspine’s safer outskirts! Albedo might not regularly himself, unless Klee asked, but he finds it quite beautiful and you’ll find many drawings of ice skaters in his sketchbooks, trying to capture the dynamic movement, speed and striking figures

He’s meticulous during experiments and I imagine with his own possessions, so your books and anything else are in safe hands, he also may not exactly fumble as a completely organic human would

While nature documentaries wouldn’t immediately catch his attention (as I believe he only pursues things he’s personally interested in), he’d probably find something intriguing related to his experiments and then would just start watching them anyway with you

Cooking is a form of alchemy. Probably. Jokes aside, I do think Albedo would find cooking worthwhile, as a science and to cook for Klee and others, including you – and his own meals can be quite bland, so improving at cooking by doing it with you might be something he’d be interested in

It was a close call, but Venti was almost almost in here, pretty much purely because you mentioned a cottagecore aesthetic, and a tad because of the music…perhaps I’m a little biased towards an old favourite?

Oh I can write headcanons for Venti if you actually think he’d be better, though

#matchup #genshin impact #writing requests

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helioscasereports · 1 year

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There are a lot of things you can do as a conversation level speaker!

I think you have to be 18 for most of them? I could be wrong

You can do work from home transcription and translation! This is how I got into my own job!

There are a few companies that I do not suggest due to their strict nature or shady business practices

* TranscribeMe

* UpWork - I do not like it in general

* BabbleType

These companies have strict practice and may not be the best suited

I have had poor relations with them.

If you fail even one spelling they deny you forever from the job.

Things to know in general:

Jobs like these pay for by the minute! Which means depending on how fast you type you can make money very quickly.

In my experience I have found it takes me about 15 -25 minutes to translate a 15 minute audio piece, this is to be able to correct myself as well.

At 1.40$ per minute I would get paid 21 dollars. Or 84 dollars an hour.

While this is really incentivizing, these companies can tend to cheat you. DO NOT WORK FOR THEM IF THEY ARE NOT WILLING TO W2 YOU!!! Please learn from my experience!

Some companies will also, if you are japanese speaking as a second language, take a duolingo score for a job! This is really neat, while I do not wholly agree with duolingo I find it fun and a good way to engage in learning! I have seen colleges and jobs now taking this as experience!

Safe Sites to find translation jobs

* Indeed

* Monster

Job searching sites like this! They are safe sites and you can always report the job if it turns out to be shady.

General safety

No job should ever ask you for passwords like for your PayPal, Bank Account, or other accounts. If they are a real company they can transfer right to your accounts. Please do not give your information such as passwords. If you are worried about filing with a company you can :

-- ask for their tax payer ID. This is something that is linked to the government and will show up on a W2 for taxes. This is not hidden information and if they fight with you over something like this DO NOT CONTRACT !

-- search them on Green Glass Doors, almost every company is on here. There should be reports of salary, reviews, info about the company in general and that should be good to look at. If you can't find it on Green Glass Doors I would 100% ask for a tax payer ID.

How do you know if Japanese at home translations is for you ?

Well, I really thought this was the job for me, I have wanted to do this since I was very very young and found...I really. R e a l l y do not like audio transcription or translation at home.

There is never enough quiet time for me, I feel like as long as I am on my computer I am distracted and people always bother me. I get up frequently and leave my work. I also just. Really did not enjoy the subject.

A lot of audio places are asking you to transcribe audio of business conventions (?). I find it very difficult to place the speakers' titles in these things and it really annoys me.

Personally I like transcribing Japanese and translations from text.

These are things you should definitely try out for yourself before seeking out a job in that specific field. Its as easy as going to YouTube, searching a medical conversation (the most common kind) and tabbing out of it so you can see if you can place speakers and transcribe /translate well

How should I charge for freelance translations ?

So first off, most companies will give you a wage if you are W2'd with them, this is generally why I suggest this because it just feels safer and cozier.

If you are a freelancer it means you are 1099 / W9, you do not belong to a company. My personal suggestions for wages are generally

* 20 - 50$ per page at 12 - 14 size font for text

* .80 - 1.50 per minute for audio work

These should be based on how fast and ACCURATE you think you can do the work at. If you have no experience take the lower, you will still make a reasonable amount of money :)

*** Audio rates are for the length of the file that you are sent, not how long it takes you! Please keep this in mind when doing them. Again, audio files can take up to twice the amount of time as the length of the file.

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certifiedjaeger · 2 years

Text

Just a Little More

Stepbrother!Eren Jaeger x Female Reader

Summary: Things get out of hand when your stepbrother asks to sleep in your room for the night.

Word Count: 2K

Warnings: 18+ content, stepbrother au (tw stepcest), manipulation/dub-con elements (via eren, but don't worry reader is into it), unprotected sex, creampie, includes a very horny eren <3

Notes: Listen, I know this may not be everybody's cup of tea but let me tell you......I am a whore for this man.... that is all, thank u - Enjoy ♡

You don’t know how you ended up here– With Eren rutting his cock against your clothed heat and both of your hushed moans filling the rather small bedroom. What had started out as Eren simply asking to stay in your room for the night–noting something along the lines of ‘not being able to sleep’–had now led to this very predicament you two found yourself in– with Eren on top of you and your bed quietly creaking against the wood floors.

It felt wrong to have your stepbrother on top of you like this. But god, it also felt good. It almost felt too good. And after all, it's not like you two were actually related. His dad had married your mom only a couple of years ago and you were both now in college, so… a part of you didn’t feel too bad about what was happening. Or at least that’s what you tried to tell yourself as your mind conjured up every possible excuse as to why having him on top of you like this wasn’t such a horrible thing. But if you were being completely honest with yourself… you knew this was wrong. You knew it–deep down–that it was wrong to feel the head of his cock push against the thin, damp cotton of your underwear and you knew that it was wrong for your body to shudder at the immense pleasure that it brought you.

His clothes were long gone; thrown on the floor after several minutes of dry humping and a small nod from you, signaling to him that yes, he could use your clothed cunt to get himself off. But you, on the other hand, had insisted on leaving your underwear on– It was at least some sort of protection, some sort of barrier that prevented this situation from getting even worse and making it all too real.

But it was real. You could feel just how real it was as his hips frantically moved; his cock desperately rubbing up against the growing wet spot on your underwear.

“What if I just–” he breathes deeply, “What if I just stick the head in?” He urges, caging you with his arms on either side of your head.

“I–” you huff a little, feeling his cock rut against your clit. As badly as you wanted him, as badly as you needed to feel him deep inside of you, you knew it was wrong. “We- We shouldn’t,” you choke out, a little breathless as you feel the weight of his hard length rest along your barely-clothed entrance.

“You really want me to cum like this?” he says, almost stunned. “I thought you cared about me,” he softly chuckles, giving a small boyish grin as though you were punishing him.

“I– I just don’t think we should… right?” you glance up–with nervous desire in your eyes–into the dark emerald ones peering down at you.

That was all he needed to hear from you– That slight hesitation. He knows how badly you want to give in to him. He knows how desperate you are to feel him inside of you. And after all… wouldn’t he be a bad stepbrother to not give you exactly what you want? Before you know it, your underwear is suddenly being tugged down your legs and strewn across the room. You gasp, feeling the cold air rush against your now exposed cunt; the arousal gathered between your folds no longer being hidden away behind your underwear, causing a gentle shiver to run through your body.

“There’s a lot we shouldn’t be doing, you know,” his voice lowers in its tone, his green eyes–full of desire and lust–gaze at you almost as though they’re hiding something. He watches how your lips part in a quiet moan as he rubs his cock against your bare cunt, feeling you coat his tip as small lewd noises fill the air.

He bites his bottom lip–feeling the overwhelming need to bite onto something, anything–as he gently guides the head of his cock through your silken, dripping folds. Sliding easily–almost too easily– between them as he realizes with one little mischievous push, he’d be seated comfortably inside your warm, plush walls… Just one little downward push and he’d have no choice but to completely sheath himself inside of you; your tightness sucking him in, pulling his cock in and surrounding its length in your warm, compact walls. Just as he had always desired.

“What about just the tip, hm?” He questions eagerly. “That’s it, nothing more,” his thrusts become more languid now; slow, yet powerful as he drags his cock along your folds, pushing with the slightest force every time his head nears your entrance, only to then bring it back up to rub against your clit.

“Uh–” you part your lips in a small gasp, feeling his cock desperately trying to get inside of you with every long thrust of his. It was as though it had a mind of its own, seeking out your warmth and needing to be surrounded in it. “O-okay, just the tip,” you agree to his almost too-enticing offer. Surely just the tip of his cock would be okay… It wasn’t as though he’d be fully inside of you. So, it was okay… right?

You feel the warm, flushed head of his cock prod at your glistening entrance, his head slowly easing its way into your tight walls as Eren closes his eyes in pleasure; his face relaxing as a quiet groan lazily falls from his lips.

“Fuck, you feel good,” his voice drawls as he feels you constrict around his sensitive tip. He pulls his hips back slightly, the head of his cock threatening to fall out with the slightest movement as he pushes back in with another groan. His hips slowly begin moving back and forth, relishing in the tight feeling of you sucking him in, only to then hold him tightly as he threatens to leave. The head of his cock aches from the little taste of pleasure he receives from you, his length twitching as though it were mindlessly begging for just a little more– After all, his tip has had the pleasure of being inside of your warm walls, he feels it's only right that his shaft gets to experience that same feeling, as well. He figures it’s only fair…

“Just a little more, okay?” His voice is laced with desperation as he pushes just a little deeper inside of you. You gasp at the feeling. You should be scolding him, telling him that that’s not what you two had agreed to. But that's not what you do at all. No, your hands instinctively fall to his lower back and help him to push in just a little more.

“Wait, no, no– We really shouldn’t,” you suddenly force the words out of your mouth, hating the way that they sound. Their inauthenticity somehow feels even more wrong than what you’re doing with Eren right now. It’s just the thing you should be saying at the moment; the thing you should want and the words you should be listening to as you feel his cock slide in just a bit more. And yet, you feel like a liar as you hear those words leave your lips. You don’t want him to stop, you don’t want that at all.

“I know, I know– but it just feels so good,” he groans, pulling his hips away from you only to sink halfway back in. “Feels good, right?” His eyes are still closed in pleasure as he asks the obvious question. After all, he knows you’re enjoying yourself just as much as he is, so there’s no need to ask such ridiculous questions.

“Y-yeah,” you agree, voice shaky with desire. “It shouldn’t though,” you utter.

“But it does,” his quiet groan echoes off of the wall as he suddenly pushes himself fully inside of you. “Fuck, sorry,” he apologizes, although he doesn’t stop his now frantic thrusts. “S-sorry, can’t help myself,” he stammers out, his apologies holding no meaning to them as he eagerly continues his movements.

Not that you exactly want him to stop– It feels too good. It feels too right having him inside of you like this, even though you know it’s wrong. His cock sits perfectly inside of your warm walls, pushing into you angelically and filling you with his thick length, only to then quickly pull away and do it all over again in short, rushed thrusts.

“O-okay, this is fine,” you rationalize, realizing how this night has progressed far past anything it should have, but not having the strength–or desire–to put an end to it. “This is f-fine, just don’t–god–don’t cum in me,” you warn halfheartedly in a hushed whisper, trying to keep your voice down so the others in the house don’t hear.

“Ah–fuck–okay,” he says, burying his head in the crook of your neck. He feels that he’s close, he feels that you’re close… he knows he should pull out. He knows he should. He knows he sh–

“Ahh,” he groans in your ear, his thrusts slowing as pearly white ropes of cum spurt from his tip, filling the inside of your silken walls. He doesn’t stop. No, he can’t stop. Your cunt wraps itself around his cock, pulling him in deeper, draining him of everything his body has to give you.

You gasp, feeling a new sensation inside of you and hearing a small squelching sound as Eren slowly moves his cock in and out of you. You know what he’s done. And you know how fucked you both are. But, you can’t help how much you love the feeling of his cum covering the base of his cock–slapping against you with each languid thrust–as he fucks his milky white essence in and out of you; feeling it begin to drip out of your entrance and onto the sheets below.

“Eren–” you say breathless.

“I know,” he confirms what you already knew. “Wasn’t… fast enough,” he gives one final thrust of his cock, seating himself perfectly inside of your slick walls as he lets out one last lengthy groan.

I know.

Eren came inside of you and only let you know after the matter, whispering those two little words in your ear… I know. But if Eren were being completely honest with himself, that wasn’t the only thing that he knew. For instance, he had known that from the moment he had stepped inside your room, that he was going to find out what pretty little underwear you were wearing. Just like he had also known that he was finally going to experience what you smelled like when you were aroused or what your body felt like underneath his; things he had only ever dreamt of before. But of all the things that he knew prior to laying down in your bed that night, he knew that the most important was that he would not be leaving your room without his cum inside of you.

He had known from the very beginning just exactly how this night would end. With his cum fucked so deep inside of you that there was nothing either of you could do about it. And yet, he feigns innocence as he stares down at you now. Claiming that he couldn’t control himself, that it was a mistake and that he didn’t mean to. That he never intended for tonight to happen the way it did. All lies he whispers as he tells you only what you want to hear. Stroking your cheek and telling you how he’ll make it all better. How nothing bad will come of your rushed affair. How… since his cum is already inside of you, there’s no point in stopping now.

And after all, he had so much more to give to you… It’d be a shame to let it all go to waste…

“You don’t need to worry about a thing,” he coos sweetly in your ear. “Just let your big brother take care of you.”

Tagging: @princess-jaeger @pocks-waifu

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visionofhope04 · 3 years

Note

Hii I was lowkey wondering if you would do something maybe like a one shot of neglected where reader is older (18-20) and dipped out of the house and became a singer and one of her songs basically exposed them for how they treated reader and in like an interview she full on tells them how she doesn’t even talk to them and like only Jason

This is literally perfect. I love this idea! I was planning on making a singer batsis reader anyway so here you go! I'll be making this part 4 of the series instead of a one shot. There’s a bit of angst. Btw, thanks so much for your support everyone! I'm glad you enjoy this series! Feel free to request anything you'd like besides smut as well!

This is the longest thing I have ever written so there will be a part 5. I planned on this being the last part but it's just so much. It’s not proofread and neither are all of the other parts because I post at 1 am most of the time lol. Hope you like it!

f/n = friend name

Y/G/N = your group name

N/S = news station

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4 (Current) Part 5

---

You were sick of it. Sick of how even after confronting them about how you felt and almost dying because of it, they still neglected you. You couldn't wait to move out at the age of 18, even if it proved to be a struggle. You had taken mini jobs since you turned 15 and saved up since then. You just couldn't see them anymore as it would remind you of how they treated you that day at that hospital. None of them apologized either. They just pretended it never happened and continued to ignore you. The media had a field day with speculation of what had happened but eventually stopped because Bruce had claimed it was “just a bad case of the flu” which they believed.

Jason was always the only one that would talk to you. He was the only one that actually cared enough to make sure you were taking proper care of yourself and that you wouldn't have a repeat of what happened. He took you places, spent time with you and gave you advice. You even had a tradition where you'd always meet up at the manor's library every week at the same time that same day every week and just have a mini book club together. He always made time for you and never bailed on you.

So on your 18th birthday, he helped you move out. You managed to rent a small apartment in Star City with the money you had saved up. It wasn’t that close to the manor which was a good thing. The neighborhood wasn’t good but it wasn’t as bad as Gotham’s neighborhoods so you would be fine. You could handle yourself with your assassin training if needed. You also managed to get hired at a cafe which was about a five minutes walking distance from your apartment.

It had taken a while but eventually, you had packed all of your belongings into color coded containers and moved them into Jason’s car with his help. You didn’t say goodbye to anyone as you had no friends to say bye to and you knew that your so called “family” couldn’t care less about what you did with your life. ‘This is it, hopefully the last time I’ll ever be near this place.’ You thought. You didn’t plan on stepping foot in Gotham ever again after you left. It would bring back too many memories you prefer to keep buried away deep inside your mind.

The car ride to Star City was entertaining. You and Jason conversed the whole time, telling jokes and listening to his funny tales with the radio playing softly in the background. Eventually, a song you both loved came on and you both started yell-singing along to the lyrics. You wished those moments could be permanent. You were both so carefree and nothing else mattered besides having fun and enjoying yourselves.

You now stood in the doorway of your new apartment, admiring your new home. Jason and yourself had just finished unpacking all of your belongings. You really liked how it looked and thought you both did an amazing job at designing the place perfectly according to your style. Jason, unfortunately, had to leave in order to avoid raising suspicions. Once you both said your byes, he left you to your apartment.

Jason drove back home in silence. He hated to admit it but he would miss you dearly. You were always there for him and helped him with anything. You tried your best to always comfort him and make him feel better on his darkest days and it would always work. Somehow you seemed to always have the right words to say or knew exactly what to do to help him. Out of everyone he was closest to you. He assumed it was because he could relate to you the most. More so how you felt. He’d felt like the black sheep of the family before you came, and he was. When you came, you took that role from him. It pained him to see how much their insults would affect you, even if you were good at hiding it. He could just tell.

Jason made it back to the manor after a while and went straight to the library. He didn't want to deal with the others. After the whole hospital situation, he'd never really bother interacting with them. He hated how they treated you as if you didn’t exist and hated how much pain they had caused you and that they didn’t even care. He guessed that they'd probably be doing something for Damian's birthday and forgot that you were his twin. They probably couldn’t even remember that Damian had a twin.

He made it to the library and pulled out one of his favorite books. He’d read it so many times you’d often joke that he could probably recite the whole book by heart at this point. Sitting down in a chair, he started to read. However, he couldn’t bring himself to stop thinking about what it would’ve been like if they treated you how they did Damian. The both of you were Bruce’s real children. You both even looked like clones of him! At first, Jason thought you would’ve been the favorite twin due to your personality. Even though you were twins, your personalities were polar opposites. You even refused to kill! You were trained by the League so why didn’t you kill as Damian did?

Jason knew you would benefit them greatly if you joined. You had self control, didn’t kill, could act perfectly, lie perfectly, do well under pressure, and not to mention your skills. Being raised by the League may have been torture, but you managed to gain incredible skills out of it. You could take on at least ten guys who doubled you in size and beat them within five minutes. You even bested Damian in spars and he was supposedly dubbed the “better twin” by Talia, so why hadn’t they let you join their nightly crusades like they had let Damian when the both of you first arrived?

Damian passed by your room but noticed something was off. He decided to take a look. He twisted the doorknob and pushed. The room which was once occupied by you now looked extremely plain and bare, stripped of all of its accessories. The only things left were the bed itself, multiple dressers, and a vanity. It looked as if it had been vacant the whole time. It might as well have been. Damian couldn’t really remember what it had looked like since he’s never paid much mind to it but he could tell there was a drastic difference. He knew that you disliked just leaving your room plain unlike himself and wanted at least something to make it look less boring.

He couldn’t help but wonder what had happened. Had you finally been kicked out by Bruce? Did you get shipped off to a boarding school like he had been suggesting to your father for years? He decided to go ask. He exited the room and closed the door behind him, taking off for Bruce’s office. Walking down the hall, he suddenly remembered that he had seen you leave with Jason. This meant that you were not at a boarding school like he had originally thought. But then why was your room vacant?

Instead of going to see Bruce, he decided to go see Jason and bring up the matter with him instead. He changed directions and headed to the library where he knew he’d find Jason. It was no secret that Jason was a book worm so Damian had a fifty percent chance of finding him there.

He entered the library and was immediately greeted with the sight of Jason sitting comfortably on a chair, legs crossed with a book opened in his hands. Jason didn’t bother to look up from his book as he spoke.

“What do you want Demon Spawn?”

“I’ve come to obtain the whereabouts of my sister.”

“You mean my sister?”

“She’s not your sister!” Damian exclaimed.

“Well I act more like a brother than you do.”

“Where is Y/N? Her whole room is bare.”

“That’s for me to know and you to find out.”

“Just tell me, you imbecile!” Damian said, growing increasingly frustrated by Jason’s blunt answers.

“She’s not here.”

“Then where is she?”

“Not here.”

“Just tell me already Todd, I have no time for your foolish games!”

“She moved out.” Jason said, giving in.

“What?! Where.” Damian demanded.

“Why would I tell you?”

“Because I demand to know!”

“Okay and?”

“Tell me!”

“No.”

“Why not!”

“Because you don’t even care.”

“And you do?”

“Yes, I actually do Damian! I’m there for her when she needs me the most. I’m there for her while she’s watching you live the perfect life that she’s just a background character in! While you and the others ignore that she even exists! I’m there for her when she breaks down and has panic attacks! And what were you all doing to try and help her? Nothing! Absolutely nothing!” Jason snapped.

“Y/N’s fine, I know my twin!” Damian screamed.

“Do you even know what her favorite color is?” Jason questioned in a harsh tone.

“...” Was Damian’s reply.

“Exactly! You don’t! You and the others have never cared about her, so why all of a sudden do you care now? You don’t know anything about her so don’t act like you do!” Jason then stood up and walked out of the room in a fit of rage.

Damian stood there, shocked. Had Jason just refused to answer his question? He was about to follow him but decided against it. Why was Damian going to chase Jason down just for her? She was just an annoyance, a mistake, imperfect. He had been wanting to get rid of her for so long, so why doesn’t he feel relieved? Why does he feel guilty? He decided to stop dwelling on it and get on with life. He figured it would happen eventually if it hadn’t happened then.

---

It had been a year since that day. The day you left your old life behind and started a new life, a better one. One where you weren’t constantly ignored. One where you actually had more than one person care about you. Instead of seeing yourself as a failure and disappointment, you now saw yourself as an amazing person (which you always were). You had been going to a community college in Star City. You made many friends there and started up a music career with three of them.

Their names were f/n, f/n and f/n. You all started off by taking random gigs anywhere you could. You performed covers of songs and would receive standing ovations all the time. Seeing as your group was well liked, you decided to write and produce your own songs. At the age of 19, Y/G/N released their first album. It went viral within a day and everyone was talking about it. After a week, several articles were posted, praising your work. News Stations talked about all the records Y/G/N managed to break. People started to stream it like crazy, and you couldn’t be happier with all the positive feedback you were receiving.

You had been a Wayne once, meaning you had experience in dealing with the media. Since you had already been used to it, you knew you’d all eventually be invited to interviews. So, when you had received an email stating how N/S wanted a one on one interview with you, you weren’t sure how to feel. You weren’t looking forward to interviews with your whole group, let alone one where you would be alone. You knew how unfiltered interviewers could be and didn’t feel comfortable with it.

However, you decided it would be best to go. So here you were, sitting in front of the interviewer in an uncomfortable chair preparing for the interview to start. You had somehow managed to keep a smile plastered on your face the entire time while you were a nervous wreck on the inside. You hoped none of the questions would be sexist as they usually were towards women. However, you had no more time to think about that. You heard clicking, signaling that you were about to go live. Once you heard the last click, you knew you were live and the interview had begun.

“Hello everyone, welcome back to N/S. My name is Jerald Tangleberry and I’m here today with songwriter, singer, and celebrity, Y/N Wayne! How are you?”

You waved to the camera and then answered, “Hello everyone! I’m doing good, how about you?”

“I’m doing great, thanks for asking! So by now I’d assume everyone knows that you’ve released an album with your group. How does it feel to gain more fame?”

“It doesn’t feel any different. Fame wasn’t our goal when we released the album. It was to express ourselves.”

“Mhm, well Ms. Wayne, what inspired you to write songs?”

“Well we know people may be in a tough spot in their life right now and want them to know they aren’t alone.”

“That’s so true. Some fans have been speculating that every member has three songs that specifically relate to them since there are twelve songs in total and three of the songs have the same group member as the introduction part of the song. Is this true?”

“Yes, it is true.”

“So all three of your songs relate to family issues of some sort. Is that hinting that you have family issues?”

“Yes, actually. My family isn’t the best. They ignored me all the time, even when they weren't busy. The only person who didn’t was Jason.”

“You’re saying it in the past tense.”

“I moved out about a year ago. When I was around 14, I suffered from anorexia. My family would always ignore me since they were either busy doing work or hanging out with each other. The only family member that acknowledged me was Jason. I assumed it was because there was something wrong with me. I started to hate myself so much to the point of starvation. One day, I passed out right before a gala and my oldest brother Dick found me passed out on the floor. They took me to the hospital and when I woke up, Bruce, Dick, Tim, and Damian started fussing about how I’d ruin their image if the media knew what actually happened. They started to yell at me and told me how I was a useless burden. I started to have a panic attack so I kicked them out. Jason stayed behind with me and comforted me. Ever since then I made a planed to save enough money so I could move out when I turned 18, which I did.”

“Oh, wow. So Jason was the only one who interacted with you?”

“Yeah.”

“Looks like the Wayne family isn’t as perfect as they seem.”

“No family is actually perfect.”

“Did your family try contacting you at all after they found out about Y/G/N?”

“Not yet. They’re probably too busy or don’t care.”

“I’m sorry to hear that.”

“It’s alright, I got over it. What’s the next question.”

“Oh-” He cleared his throat and continued the interview. (So basically I don’t wanna bore you all lol)

---

Jason had woken up late into the afternoon that day. Patrol that morning had exhausted him. There was a huge breakout at Arkham they had assisted with. They successfully locked up every escapee, so today, Jason just wanted to relax until it would be time for patrol again. Even though he was exhausted, he knew he couldn’t take a break. The others wouldn’t and it would be unfair to them if he did.

He headed over to his couch with his phone and a bowl of popcorn in hand, ready to watch random movies the entirety of the day. He set down his phone on the coffee tables and grabbed the TV remote. When he turned on the TV, he almost dropped the popcorn and remote. You were sitting on a chair, giving an award winning smile while you politely answered the man’s questions. He was baffled. He didn’t know why you were being interviewed, let alone on TV at all! You made it clear you didn’t want to have any relations with your family any longer and you couldn’t stand publicity, so what were you doing?

He placed the bowl down and snatched his phone off the table. Unlocking his phone, he quickly dialed your phone number. However, he realized that the interview was live and that he would be interrupting it if he called you then. Deciding to wait, he placed his phone back down, picked up the bowl, and then got comfortable.

---

Tag list: @fake-id-69 @pepelachanel @loxbbg @what-0-life @yoongi-holland @omnivorousfangirl @cawcaw-pretty-thing @sexysamsungl @iceddonuts @buginetye @portrait-ninja @azazel-nyx @alculai

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ladyartemesia · 3 years

Text

The Kiss

◐ PART VIII of THE ALPHA ◐

◐ Series Masterlist ◐

◐ Part I ◐ Part II ◐ Part III ◐ Part IV ◐ Part V ◐ Part VI ◐ Part VII ◐

Pairing: Alpha Werewolf Jimin x Omega Reader

Rating: Hard Mature 18+ (for this installment)

Warnings: this one is a little darker, descriptions of violence, ABO sexual dynamics including discussion of scenting, marking, mating, and claiming, strong sexual innuendo, discussion of violence relating to ritual combat, possessive behavior, injuries and discussion of injuries, lots of people have, use and are threatened by knives, kidnapping and drugging, its not as bad as it sounds, but it is definitely a bit darker…

Word Count: 4250

Author’s Note: I said it before but it bears repeating...You have no idea what your support has meant to me. Truly your asks and your messages and comments…they made me so happy. You made me believe that people wouldn’t forget about this story. I am so grateful you were able to wait. As many of you know I faced a medical emergency recently and you were all so lovely. The best followers on this site and I MEAN that. As always, my angels @ppersonna @xjoonchildx and @untaemedqueen were (and continue to be) the best betas and the best friends anyone could ask for. My thanks to ALL of you for helping me bring this story to life! I don’t know what I would do without your daily encouragement and your daily support. You guys are the heartbeat of this story. It wouldn’t be here without you.

——◐——

Two Years Ago

——◐——

Centuries ago the moon goddess stumbled across her human soulmate while he was sleeping. Struck by his beauty, but reluctant to reveal her identity, the goddess began to visit him in his dreams where she could hide her true form and appear before him as a mortal woman.

In the world of dreams their love flourished and from that blessed union the packs were born…

The wolf nations celebrated this sacred romance every ten years during the Festival of the Lover’s Moon…

The day of the festival was spent eating and drinking and dancing at large parties, but when the sun went down… well—

That’s when things got really interesting.

On the night of Lover’s Moon the young unmated wolves of the pack were permitted to commemorate this legendary love story in a decidedly scandalous manner.

The unmated men assumed the role of the goddess’s sleeping lover—they were blindfolded (to represent slumber) and led into a large sectioned off area of the dark forest to ‘wait and dream.’

Unmated she-wolves over the age of maturity (eighteen) took herbal scent suppressors and ventured out into that very same forest in order to anonymously ‘visit’ the young men ‘in their dreams’...

The rules for what exactly that meant were pretty fast and loose which was why Min Yoongi was thanking the goddess and every other deity he could think of that Yunli was still seventeen.

“But I will be eighteen in two days! Please can’t I just—“

“No. Absolutely not under any circumstances ever.”

“But Yoonji is going!”

“Ji-ah is nearly nineteen and has never been interested in any of the snotty little man-pups of our pack.” He snorted. “She’s probably going out just so she can shove a bunch of them in the lake.”

“I wouldn’t count on it,” Yunli mumbled irritably.

Kim Taehyung yawned idly and snuggled into the cozy little pallet he prepared at the base of his favorite tree. The blindfold he and all the other unmated ‘lovers’ wore was made from witchcloth and could not be removed while the sun was down—so he had snuck into the forest earlier to set everything up.

Now all he had to do was wait until—

“H-Hi Taehyung.”

Oh sh—

“Uh. Hello...Miss.”

Taehyung didn’t recognize the owner of that voice, but he knew for sure who it wasn’t.

“I was hoping to find you tonight.”

This is not good.

“Well I’m—I’m flattered… naturally but—”

She touched his hand and he squeaked.

“I was thinking you and I might get to know each other a little bet—eep!”

The sharp point of a custom blade pressed directly into the unfortunate young beta girl’s pulse point.

“Are you lost, puppy?”

A heavy cloak obscured the newcomer’s features, but there was no mistaking her meaning.

Taehyung bit his lip to keep from snorting as the poor she-wolf scrambled away.

“Ji-ah,” he tsked with feigned disapproval, “that wasn’t very nice.”

Min Yoonji grinned as she sheathed her wicked looking dagger and slid languidly into his arms.

“You don’t like nice girls, Kim Taehyung.”

“I like you,” he whispered breathlessly against her lips. “Nice or not—it doesn't matter to me…” His hands slid greedily over her soft curves—pulling her closer till he felt the beat of her heart against his own. “I’ll like anything as long as it’s you.”

This was the stupidest idea in the history of stupid ideas.

Jimin huffed as he struggled to find a comfortable position against the giant boulder he’d chosen as his perch.

Why did I let Taehyung talk me into this?

He could be at home—in bed—comfortably sleeping off the all-day feast he’d indulged in.

Instead he was out in the middle of the forest sitting blindfolded on a rock in the off chance that one of the she-wolves was out looking for him.

Not bloody likely.

Not when prime targets like Namjoon, Hoseok, Jungkook—and countless others—were scattered throughout the woods.

“Park Jimin?”

Every hair on Jimin’s body stood on end.

It was a soft whisper—the speaker clearly didn’t want her voice to be recognized, yet something about the sound sent a curious frisson of interest down his spine.

He gulped.

“Yes… that’s me. But if you’re looking for Hoseok he’s just a little deeper in. You probably caught his scent downwind so—”

“I’m not looking for Hoseok.”

Jimin licked his lips and the sight of it sparked a odd curl of heat in the pit of your belly.

“I don’t know where anyone else is…”

“That’s quite alright.” A muted shuffle of movement reached his ears as you settled down beside him. “I was looking for you.”

“Oh…” He rubbed the back of his neck idly. “Are you sure?”

Laughter like fairy bells whispered through the air and Jimin felt his heart clench.

Don’t get your hopes up.

“Who are you?”

You were silent for a long time and then—

“I am someone who owes you a debt. One I have never been able to repay.”

Jimin’s head tilted curiously as he considered your words.

“I’m sorry, miss… you must be mistaken. There isn’t—“

“You don’t remember.”

It was a statement—not a question. Your voice was nearer now. He could feel the warmth of your body close to his—though not quite touching. “It was your wolf that saved me. But you had not gone through the Change yet.”

Familiar shame spiked sharply in his chest.

“I’m seven years past the Change...Why have you never mentioned this before?”

“Circumstances prevented me from doing so.”

There was a cold finality to your pronouncement—which of course did nothing but further inflame his curiosity.

“Then why come to me now?”

“I’ve come to repay you.”

Jimin’s mouth dropped open.

Were you trying to—?!

“Oh—no please that-that’s not necessary—I could never take advantage of—”

You giggled again.

“I am not offering my body, Park Jimin.”

Jimin breathed a heavy sigh of relief then shook his head with a wry chuckle.

“Well considering the circumstances I can hardly be blamed for assuming you might be. And honestly most men would jump at the chance to—”

“You...are not most men.”

Jimin’s eyes narrowed beneath his blindfold.

“Little she-wolf—I may not be wrestling bears for fun or bare knuckle boxing in the town square, but I am still an alpha.”

The weight of his command poured over your body as he spoke the last word. There was no order or intent—he had simply given you a taste of his power.

Aside from your direct blood relatives, no alpha had ever dared unleash their compel in your presence—therefore you were utterly unprepared for the effect it had on you—

Utterly unprepared for the strange surge of want so potent and profound that it stole the breath from your body.

It was primal—invigorating—

Sensual.

You and your wolf may not have been entirely connected yet, but she was suddenly quite vocal about her desire to fully bask in Park Jimin’s attention.

A wicked grin played over his lips as he leaned in closer and you could almost feel the soft brush of his lips against your cheek.

“Did you think I would not desire the touch of a beautiful woman in the moonlight?” he whispered.

Please touch me, Alpha.

Your eyes widened.

Dear goddess. Your inner wolf was turning out to be a shameless hussy.

“You might desire it, but you are far too honorable to accept it as payment for a debt.”

Jimin drew back warily.

You were correct of course. After all he had refused you when he believed that was your intent but—

“How could you know that?”

Evade. Evade now.

“Well... how could you know I was beautiful? You’re blindfolded.”

He shrugged and your wolf took careful note of the way it made all the pretty muscles in his back and shoulders ripple.

He will give us such strong—

Oh boy.

He will do no such thing. Please calm down.

“Not everything must be seen with your eyes.”

Is that how you found me? All those years ago...

Questions churned chaotically beneath your consciousness but you dared not give voice to them.

Focus.

“I must repay this debt. Ask for what you want and—if it is in my power—I swear it will be yours.”

Jimin smiled again, but this time it was somehow softer. For a moment he looked almost…

Sad.

“I’m afraid that the only thing I have ever wanted is not within your power to give...and I dare not ask you or anyone else for it.”

For her.

He sighed and drew even farther away from you—in fact it seemed like he was preparing to leave.

No.

Your hand reached out almost of it's its own accord and wrapped tightly around his wrist. The contact sent a shock of searing heat through his veins and he froze.

“Please alpha. It is not acceptable for someone like me—” a leader, a Luna, “—to owe another my life and offer nothing in return. You must let me pay my debt.”

Omega, his wolf growled, sweet perfect omega.

Suppressors may have hidden your scent, but the siren song of an omega pleading prettily in his ear was unmistakable—irresistible…

“What if all I want is your name?”

You sighed deeply.

“I cannot give you that. My name is… not mine to offer.”

Jimin laughed.

“A woman I cannot remember with a name I cannot know and whose face I cannot see.” He shook his head. “Perhaps you are just a figment of my imagination.”

It was hard to explain what happened next...For whatever reason his words cut you deeply and you were overcome with the desire—no need—to refute them somehow.

“I’m real enough,” you whispered, bringing his hand to your cheek.

Jimin was genuinely beginning to wonder if you were a witch as well as a she-wolf. Being close to you was intoxicating and the urge to draw you in was steadily overpowering every other thought.

“Could I ask you for a kiss, then?”

“You—...You saved my life and all you want... is a kiss?”

The air grew heavier as the strange magnetic pull between you swelled to a silent inescapable crescendo.

“In Seoul I often searched for someone who could ease my loneliness, yet each time I walked away emptier than before.” His thumb brushed gently over your lips and your eyes fluttered shut. “I have never had a kiss that meant anything to me.”

But yours might.

It was unclear who moved first, whether he pulled you to him or you surged forward but when your bodies aligned and your lips met his for the first time it was as if you had never been separate from one another.

As if you had always been deeply—intimately —together.

The indescribable feel of him lit over your senses like a struck match. It was an ignition in the purest sense of the word— a fiery visceral awakening fueled by a consuming flood of desire.

Yes, Alpha.

He might never see your face or hear your name, but Jimin knew he would remember the taste of you for the rest of his life. It was hot and bright like liquid sunshine— a pure relentless light flowing through him where there was once only darkness.

A soft needy moan rose up from your chest and he growled in primal satisfaction as you melted against him.

Your fingers curled into the fabric of his shirt of their own accord, desperately trying to bring him closer until he wrapped his arms around you in a heated embrace.

“Please,” he begged breathlessly against your mouth. “Please tell me who you are.”

The words crashed over you like a bucket of ice —dousing the hazy pleasure of his kiss with a cold bite of reality. Suddenly you were wrenching yourself away from him and your wolf whimpered in misery at the loss of his touch.

“I can’t,” you whispered.

And then you were gone.

“Did someone hurt you?”

You looked up to find Jin taking in your tears with cold fury.

Twin knives were already gleaming dangerously in his hands and he appeared ready to filet whichever bastard was foolish enough to make you cry.

“No,” you sniffed—well aware of how pitiful you were at the moment—crying in the corner of your cousin’s kitchen. “I got myself into this mess without any help—as usual.”

Jin sighed and slid down next to you.

“Tell me.”

“Something happened that I…I didn’t intend.”

“Oh I knew that already. The Luna isn’t supposed to be running around on the night of Lover’s Moon in a forest full of blind horny wolves—“

You snorted and shook your head.

“You’re absolutely right. I should have stayed away.”

Jin’s eyes narrowed and he wondered if perhaps you had caught Kim Namjoon with another omega. Nothing would be official until after the Change of course, but your bond with him was basically a foregone conclusion at this point.

“You went looking for someone...didn’t you.”

You nodded miserably—all but confirming his fears. He made a mental note to push Namjoon in the swamp at the next available opportunity.

“You know... the stories say that a Luna is powerfully drawn to her mate under the Lover’s Moon—that her wolf can sense him even before the Change.” He reached over and gently began to brush the tears from your eyes. “So it’s not surprising that you sought him out, but it’s not really fair to hold whatever it is you saw against him. There is no relationship between you yet and…” he chuckled, “kisses beneath festival moonlight don’t really mean anything anyways.”

It was clear that Jin had somehow gotten the entirely wrong impression, but perhaps that was for the best.

No one knew of your connection to Jimin and no one had seen what passed between you.

Still…

Something about his assessment stung you.

“You really believe that? ...That a kiss exchanged tonight means nothing?”

“I do.” Jin spoke with conviction. “There’s ancient magic at play in those woods. You can’t always trust what you see—or what you feel.”

“Oh I...I didn’t know…”

After a moment you laid your head against his shoulder and let the last of your tears run silently down your cheek.

“Jin-ah have you ever wanted something you knew you couldn’t have?”

“Yes.” He sighed heavily and pulled you in to snuggle a bit closer. “When I was younger I dreamed of having a mate just like everyone else…”

The words were so softly spoken—almost wistful. Your heart splintered just hearing them.

“But… she could be out there—your mate.”

Jin shook his head.

“When is the last time you heard of a female alpha?”

Fresh tears welled up in your eyes.

“Jin…”

“Hey,” he whispered, “don’t waste your crying on me. I’ve long since come to terms with who and what I am.”

“You’re not sad anymore?”

“Well… maybe sometimes I am… but I had to accept that people like us are not like everyone else. Our destinies were written long before we were born.”

“And you believe you’re destined to be alone?”

“Wolves in a pack are never really alone.”

“Yes...but they can be lonely,” you whispered thinking back to Jimin’s words.

For a moment Jin’s eyes were the saddest you had ever seen them.

“Well...I suppose they can.” Then he chuckled and gave your nose an affectionate little tap. “But you don’t need to worry about that. When the time comes Namjoon will take his place at your side and the two of you will build a wonderful life together... Isn’t that what you want?”

Isn’t it?

Your treacherous thoughts drifted back to the boy in the moonlight—to the way your body sang when he touched you and the strange insatiable desire to know him and be known by him in return.

“Please...Tell me who you are.”

A heavy ache settled in your heart.

You were the Luna of the mountain nations. A true born moon princess.

You could never be the woman who kissed Park Jimin underneath the stars.

You were not like everybody else.

“...Yes. That is what I want.”

——◐——

Now

——◐——

Jimin’s heart pounded as he tore through the dark paths of the wood with Taehyung, Yoongi, and Jungkook close behind.

He had never led an attack—had never been trained to command wolves in battle.

It was his first true test of leadership and he hadn’t even been a leader for twenty-four hours.

Yet the fears and anxieties that might have normally clouded his mind were notably absent.

There was only you.

Ironically Jimin owed Namjoon yet another debt—this time for explaining what exactly someone like him was capable of.

The alpha Jin captured had given up their plan and position after being exposed to Jimin’s unique gifting, so he had a concrete target in his mind… He suspected however, that your captors had taken precautions after leaving some of their men behind. They had shifted their camp.

But it wouldn’t be enough to save them.

Jimin didn’t need your location to find you.

He spent years refusing to look at you, and even then he always knew exactly where you were. He could sense you in any crowd—hear your voice in a thousand.

Once it had tormented him cruelly to be so aware of you.

Now it was the only thing keeping him sane.

He followed the connection between his heart and yours like a lifeline and it guided him as surely as the stars.

The alphas followed him without question.

If any of them harbored lingering doubts before, they were firmly laid to rest after what they saw at the cottage. No ordinary wolf could do what he had done.

The Alpha would bring back their Luna and retribution would be swift indeed.

The drugs in your system kept swinging you in and out of lucidity like a nightmarish pendulum. You tried to shift after the initial nausea faded, but whatever they gave you kept your wolf caged beneath your skin.

Jimin

The longing you felt for your mate was the only thing tethering you to reality. You could almost hear him echoing in the far corners of your mind—

I’m coming Omega—hold on.

I’ll find you.

Part of you recognized that his voice was likely nothing more than the wistful creation of your drug-addled mind, still you clung to it like the last shred of hope while the minutes (or hours) flew past.

Chaos clouded your thoughts even in clearer moments as many unavoidable concerns forced their way through the haze.

Jin was at the house with you when they broke in. You had no way of knowing if he survived.

The men who took you were crass and irreverent. Their eyes followed your form with too much interest and too little respect.

It was starting to get cold and (due to you nearly dismembering a high council member and needing to be compelled unconscious) you were still wearing a thin white ceremonial dress which offered very little protection from the elements.

You wondered idly if your idiot captors would let you freeze to death before they accomplished whatever it was they took you for. They clearly needed you for something or you would have been long dead by now.

None of them struck you as particularly brilliant planners so the mastermind must be somewhere else...

Frankly the entire situation was as puzzling as it was troubling. Iron Claw had always gotten along well with your pack.

Technically they were (almost) what the human governments called a vassal state. The presence of a Luna determined the dominant pack in a region and the Luna of the mountain nations had been born into Silver Fang—your pack—for the last thousand years or so.

Why would they challenge us now?

The birth of a Luna indicated that the goddess had chosen that pack to lead. Their willingness—not only to kidnap you—but to go against the dominant pack by doing so was alarming to say the least.

A sudden explosion of movement and sound interrupted your contemplation. Motion erupted all around you—boots pounding on the ground, men falling into their wolf forms, knives being drawn…

You lifted your head—straining forward to see the source of the commotion—and nearly collapsed in relief when you finally did.

Alpha

Your mate stood at the edge of the camp flanked by two enormous black wolves.

A deadly looking jingum sword gleamed dangerously in his right hand. You recognized it immediately as your great-grandfather’s combat blade—the thousand year-old weapon of the Silver Fang Alphas.

Relief flooded your chest all over again at the sight of it. Only Jin could have given him that sword—which meant he was still alive.

The black wolves—Yoongi and Jungkook—snarled viciously but made no move to attack.

Your captors were still scrambling into some sort of combat formation when Jimin finally spoke.

“You have violated our sacred laws, trespassed in sovereign pack lands, kidnapped a Luna under the protection of our goddess, abducted the mate of the Silver Fang Alpha, and risked open war between our peoples.” He took a single step forward. “Surrender now and I will be merciful.”

The biggest of your captors—a man you recognized as the de facto leader—spat viciously on the ground.

“You are not my Alpha,” he growled.

A cold—almost cruel—smile twisted over Jimin’s lips.

“Very well.”

Then he dropped to one knee and a massive grey wolf—Taehyung—leapt over his head and tore out the defiant leader’s throat before he even hit the ground.

Your mouth dropped open.

Bangtan formation.

Yoongi and Jungkook lunged forward in opposite directions, tackling their targets to the forest floor in a bloody clash of teeth and claws.

One of the larger Iron Claw alphas half-shifted and charged Jimin but his arm shot out lightning fast, catching his attacker by the throat to send him flying through the air into a tree.

The next several minutes could only be described as terrifyingly beautiful.

It was immediately clear that Jimin had been holding back when he fought Namjoon.

He dispatched his opponents with such elegant savagery it was almost art.

You were so mesmerized watching Jimin sensually sword dance his way through a dozen alphas nearly twice his size that you almost missed Taehyung’s wolf rushing over with a dagger clenched between his teeth.

Luna are you okay?

You grinned and held up your rope-bound wrists.

“I’ll be better once you pass me that knife.”

Taehyung nodded once and dropped the blade at your feet before tackling another wolf that was tearing towards the two of you.

You sawed through the ties around your ankle first then twisted your arms to try and slice through the restraints on your wrist.

The Iron Claw wolves were clearly no match for Jimin and his alphas.

Jungkook and Yoongi chased after the few who were trying to run while Taehyung half-shifted to subdue the handful of wolves left alive as prisoners. Only Jimin continued to fight as the last three of your captors still standing took turns being slammed into the dirt by his strikes.

He was clearly capable of dispatching them, but you were fairly convinced that you would die if you had to stay away from him for another second. The ropes, however, were surprisingly thick and the angle you were cutting them at wasn’t the best. If only—

You were almost free when you saw it.

One of your captors had pulled a hunting javelin from their supply wagon. He must have hid himself at the onset of the fight, but now he was comfortably concealed by the shadows—and taking aim at Jimin.

Your heart dropped into your stomach.

The attacker appeared to handle the weapon with familiarity. He was too far back—too well hidden—Jimin would never see him in time—

The last cord around your wrist snapped and you were on your feet, pushing through the combined haze of fury and sedatives to charge the wolf who dared attack your mate.

By the time he saw you it was far too late.

Under the effects of the drug your aim was a little skewed but you weren’t Kim Seokjin’s cousin for nothing.

One clean flick of your wrist and the dagger shot through the air, burying itself between the brute’s shoulder blades—all the way to the hilt.

His body fell to the ground just as Jimin sent the last of your captors careening into a pile of previously defeated foes.

For a moment all was quiet.

Then your eyes locked across the distance and everything around you sharpened to a single whispered word.

“Jimin.”

He had run non-stop for miles and torn apart a dozen wolves to get to your side—no amount of space between you now was tolerable.

The sword clattered to the forest floor as he moved toward you—desperate to feel you—to wrap himself around you and know that you were safe.

What happened next was as natural as breathing.

You opened to him and he lifted you into his arms, taking your lips in a hot unrepentant kiss.

Fire exploded across your senses, burning away everything but the touch and taste of him. Every part of you was at once fiercely and gloriously alive. Desperate moans passed between you as he licked into your mouth—a dark primal promise of the pleasure he would take between your thighs.

“Alpha,” you whimpered, too delirious with want to manage anything else.

Suddenly Jimin’s eyes shot open. His hands flew to cup your face, searching it with a mixture of realization and disbelief.

“You… It was you.”

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astrobydalia · 3 years

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🌸OBSERVATIONS!! (finally lmao)🌱

Credit: Tumblr blog @astrobydalia

It's been a long time coming! So happy for spring being finally here! Here's the long ass observation post you guys asked for. Since it's quite a big amount of observations, I've decided it'd be a good idea to number them so that it's easier to reference them. As always, enjoy them!

🌸 1. Lilith in the 2nd house can indicate something fishy going on with the relationship between the native’s parents.

🌱 2. Malefic placements such as pluto, chiron, Saturn or Lilith in the 12th indicates a lot of skeletons in the closet when it comes to family and family history

🌸 3. Chiron in Aries/1st house or Leo/5th house is kind of bitch placement. The person basically feels like they can’t be themselves and there’s a lot of self-denial and/or not accepting themselves, how they really are, what they really want, etc. Lots of self-esteem issues

🌱 4. People with sexual placements in the 2nd house (Mars, Venus, Lilith, Eros, ruler of the 8th house) base their self-worth on how sexually attractive they are. If they don't feel sexually desirable to everyone, they feel like they're shit

🌸 5. Lilith is what people think Pluto/Scorpio is!!!! All that stuff about magnetic, sexual and intoxicating but dangerous? Lilith.

🌱 6. Scorpio/Pluto in 4th could mean that the person had to work hard to survive something growing up. It could be poverty, their parents’ expectations, an early trauma, etc. Whatever the situation is, the native felt like they grew up in a high-stress environment where they had to endure and survive

🌸 7. When it comes to degrees, the higher the degree, the bigger or stronger the effect. For example Leo degrees (5º, 17º, 29º) are fame degrees. 5th degree would give small fame, 17th degree would be normal and significant fame or recognition inside the person’s field and 29th degree is moreso widespread or permanent fame

🌱 8. Saturn in the 5th house is a huge indicator of turning your hobby into your job. Also these people can be very awkward in their personality

🌸 9. I’ve noticed people with Neptune in the 6th (maybe 2nd) house may have been hospitalized and if Uranus or Pluto are placed here also indicates getting surgery or operations for health reasons

🌱 10. People with Uranus or Pluto in the 1st, 2nd or conjunct the ASC could get surgery due to aesthetic reason

🌸 11. Mercury dominant people (or strong Gemini energy in the chart) like to have or get things quick and easy. For example they prefer a straight forward summary over an in-depth and elaborated explanation with too many details

🌱 12. Your moon sign shows how you see your past. Your 4th house represent how you see your childhood. But your moon represents under which light you always view your past and everything that has happened in your life in general. It also shows the type of stuff from your past you tend to focus on. Since Cancer and Pisces represent past and remenaicence, that's why Cancer and Pisces moons have trouble getting over the past.

🌸 13. Your 10th house on the other hand is how you see your future. Whenever someone asks you “where you see yourself in 5 years?” your 10th house is the one that’ll be answering that question

🌱 14. Gemini moon/mars are the LEAST likely to hold grudges (unless chart says otherwise)

🌸 15. The house where you have your Neptune indicates the themes you tend to lie about, don’t give much info, say stuff about it that are misleading etc. and in consequence people might not have a clear/correct idea of this part of your life

🌱 16. Virgo risings rarely or basically never pose for pictures. They just look straight forward to the camera, sometimes smile and maybe make a small gesture like putting one hand in their pocket or tilt their head but that’s it. (Virgo = minimalism)

🌸 17. Scorpios really don’t give a single fuck they just DON’T 😭💀 Remember this sign is all or nothing, they either care too or don't care AT ALL

🌱 18. I said it once and I’ll say to a hundred times more: Geminis are not two-faced, it’s LIBRA!! Seriously Libras are the FAKEST people I’ve ever met. Why? Because it's ruled by the planet of love (Venus), which means Libra has a knack for being liked by everyone and making everyone feel liked. HOWEVER Libra is an AIR sign and air represents mind, NOT feelings. In conclusion, Libra can make you feel "loved" (venus) and still not give a damn about you bc its air nature makes them prone to emotional detachment. That's why they are able to roast you and make it look like they're complimenting you, specially when they have Scorpio mercury.

🌸 19. Just like you look at where’s the ruler of your rising sign to get more info on your rising, check the ruler of your Sun sign for more info on your personal identity (check sign and house). For ex. I have Virgo Sun in the 9th. Ruler of Virgo=Mercury. I have mercury in Libra in the 10th house which makes me more serious (10th house) and diplomatic/people pleaser (Libra)

🌱 20. If you found that you “couldn’t” do what’s previously described because you’re a Leo sun, check the degree and decan of your Sun

🌸 21. I’ve noticed mercury retrograde people are the type of individuals who always know exactly the right things to say. You’ll always see them take a couple of seconds before answering but they tend to give very good responses

🌱 22. I’ve noticed many women with Virgo Venus/Sun/MC/Lilith have been slut-shamed at some point of their life or they’ve been seen as promiscuous/sexual/etc.

🌸 23. Capricorn moons are not emotionless machines. The thing with these natives is that their mothers treated them like an adult the second they came out of the womb, so basically they skipped the “love and affection” stage and went straight to the “grow up” stage, but they can love really hard and real deep (Capricorn is deep down a very sentimental sign). They are very ride or die people tbh, they are very patient, accepting and understanding

🌱 24. I've noticed that people at first deny their rising sign in Vedic astrology, but eventually they end up accepting it and they actually end up relating to it a lot. I feel like this is because our rising sign in Vedic astrology is usually the sign of our 12th house in Western astrology, which leads me to believe that our 12th house sign is not our shadow side but more like our deep subcontious personality and that's why we have a hard time accepting it when we see it as our rising sign in Vedic astrology. It's like your rising sign (in western) is the director of the play but your 12th house is the energy that previously wrote the script

🌸 25. So many celebrities have moon in the 11th house. Also this placement indicates that you had a mother that put you out there constantly like posting everything about you on social media, bringing you to big events or your mom was “famous” in some capacity

🌱26. Gemini risings tend to believe everything they are told. More specifically, once they find someone that knows a little bit more than them they’ll believe everything they teach them and will most likely rely on them intellectually, for advice, guidance, etc. This is bc they have DSC in Sagittarius which makes them see the people they associate with as masters and mentors while, as a Gemini rising, they identify as an apprentice.

🌸27. Both 8th house and 12th house have been associated with secrets. The different is that the 8th house represents what you CONTIOUSLY and deliberately hide from others and most likely deny to yourself (or not, depends on the person). 12th house on the other hand represents subconscious, things that are hidden even from you and you didn’t even know were hidden. 4th house is not necessarily secrets, it represents privacy, like when people have a sanctuary to just relax, unwind and feel secure, that’s the 4th house.

🌱28. Sun or Moon in the 4th house will make you a sociable but private person.

🌸29. Sun or moon in the 8th house will make you an intriguing and mysterious person.

🌱30. Sun or moon the 12th house makes you a very elusive or wishy-washy person

🌸31. I’ve seen many Scorpio sun/moon/mars/rising individuals obsessed with the idea of being prepared for a catastrophe. They could be the type to, for example, have some saved cash just in case something bad happens with their bank money, have a backup account just in case their main one gets deleted, could have a “leave before you get left” philosophy, etc.

🌱32. Is it just me or the astro community talks a lot about Aries moons???

🌸33. I’ve noticed people with 4th house in Virgo could have been raised in a very judgemental household where there was lots of taboos and prejudice as to what’s right and what’s not and the family was too preoccupied with a perfect and immaculate reputation. For example could have been raised with values such as “only criminals wear tattoos” or “you should stay celibate till marriage or else you’re a whore”, etc. and if the native broke those rules they could have been very criticized and almost loathed by the family. They native could have been highly criticized in general by their family

🌱34. I’ve noticed women that have their moon harshly aspecting Pluto, Uranus and Mars or overall have a very afflicted moon tend to have very painful period cramps

🌸35. Something I have noticed with Venus or Moon conjunct Saturn people is that the concept of unconditional love sounds like alien language to them. That of course doesn’t mean they can’t love but they have this deep belief that they have to achieve something in order to deserve love and stuff like that

🌱36. Also, I just noticed that people with Saturn conjunct sun/moon/Venus/ASC, Capricorn big 3 or Capricorn degrees in personal placements have gone through IT man, specially on an internal level. I've noticed going through depression is a common theme for people with this Capricorn/Saturn influence

🌸37. Virgo Suns could often struggle to find balance between having healthy ego and being humble.

🌱38. Also people with Virgo+Leo energy are the MOOOOST judgmental people out there. Imagine ego mixed with a sense of knowing what’s correct. They tend to believe they’re morally superior and easily liable people as inferior

🌸39. The underdeveloped energy of a sign asimilates negative traits of its sister sign. For example underdeveloped Virgo is overly perfectionist and judgmental to the point where they have unrealistic expectations (Pisces)

🌱40. On the other hand the developed version of a sign is balanced out by understanding its sister sign. For example Leo knows they are unique and special and deserves recognition but understands everyone is also unique in their own way (Aquarius)

🌸41. I’ve noticed a person can very easily manifest the stereotypical characteristics of the sign that naturally rules the house where their chart ruler is. For example if someone’s chart ruler (ruler of the ASC) is in the 7th house the person can easily manifest stereotypical characteristics of Libra like being a people pleaser

🌱42. Sagittarius ASC/Mars people are all fun, amicable and outgoing.... until they don’t get their way. They will get away from people and situations that won’t give them what they want and they can genuinely dislike people solely because those people don’t let them have their way. They tend to go around life like they have a free pass to get away with everything they want.

🌸43. People with ASC-Neptune aspects don’t have a very reliable vision of reality or themselves to be honest. I don’t know how people with this aspect haven’t lost their mind already. They are prone to subconsciously manipulating or easily getting manipulated. With hard aspects this is a lot more obvious but I’ve noticed with easy aspects this energy tends to go almost unnoticed and they easily get away with stuff

🌱44. Have seen many famous people with North node in the 2nd, 5th, 11th and 12th houses specially

🌸45. Air risings or air dominance with Sagittarius placements/degrees are people who love cartoons/animations/videogames regardless of their age.

🌱46. When I got into astrology I didn’t understand why Sun is in detriment in Libra, but oh man... All Libras I’ve met had HUGE issues with trusting themselves. They doubt themselves 24/7 and that’s not even an exaggeration and I’ve noticed they actually may have grown up doubting themselves for some reason or they had a family (their dad) that caused this feeling in them. Also I’ve seen that those Libras with Scorpio placements feel like they have to hide something about themselves otherwise they’ll be rejected. Yes they are endlessly charming, but that's because they have essentially created their personality around the desire of being liked/accepted. They always need to feel they have SOMEONE. Their sense of self, INDIVIDUALITY, independence and assertiveness is lost in the process. Unless they have fire and specially Aries placements to balance this out they can feel like they have no personality and that’s why they are often perceived as fake or shallow.

🌸47. Literally ALL Virgo placements one way or another will always suggest a way to solve your problems when giving emotional support

🌱48. I have a theory that, since 4th house is how you were raised, your home and your parents, your 10th house is how you’d be as a parent yourself and the type of home you’ll create yourself

🌸49. Contrary to my expectations, I’ve seen priests having a much more prominent 4th house (many times combined with 8th house/Scorpio energy) than 12th house. People with 12th house placements or stellium seem to prefer artistic fields rather than classic spirituality

🌱50. The house where you have your Pluto is a house you just can NOT take lightly EVER. This area of your life feels like a heavy topic to you in some way (you are either obsessed with it, find It traumatic, get extremely defensive over it, find it spiteful, you feel everything goes wrong, etc, etc.) Can also apply to the house where you have the sign of scorpio

🌸51. In synastry, Venus falling in the 12th house creates a healing dynamic in the relationship, the connection can feel cathartic specially for the house person. The house person might tend to always be comforted by the venus person’s support, always feel better (or even energetically “cleansed”) after being with them. The venus person never judges the house person and accepts them and is always willing to be there.

🌱52. I’ve noticed this pattern in people with mutable moons where they have absent mothers in some shape or form. Their mother is very inconsistent, she always comes and goes. Very often the native may have felt like their mother always “left them be” (virgo moon moms put restrictions but eventually are rather flexible)

🌸53. People with cardinal moons have bossy mothers. In many cases they can have the type of mother that is constantly making decisions for them, like their mother decides what/where they’re going to study for example (the house tells what type of things the mother tends to make decisions on).

🌱54. People with fixed moons have possesive and protective moms. While mutable moons have absent mothers, natives with fixed moons have mothers that are ALWAYS there in some shape or form. At the very least the influence of the mother is always there and they always have this sense of “loyalty” towards their mom.

Credit: Tumblr blog @astrobydalia

That's it for now, next observation post is just as long but much better, stay tuned and safe loves 💕

#astrology #astro #astro notes #astro observations #zodiac

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fullfiresiren · 3 years

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beauty of the dawn

jujutsu kaisen

fushiguro toji x reader

The notion of a loving family was something foreign to Fushiguro Toji. Family, to him, was a bitter word -- full of hate and abhorrence. Abandonment and fear were a commonality in his own childhood. But in you, he finds a warmth he didn’t think he deserved – a home he craved, a love that makes him feel safe; full of gentle touches and soft kisses. But he’s scared. He's broken, and angry, and he knows the threat of his family is always lurking close, snapping at his heels, ready to devour. You bring the notion of family to his doorstep, and he spooks. He panics. He can’t let them find you, he can’t and he has to give up the only feeling of warmth he has ever known to do so.

It haunts him forever – leaving behind the only woman he ever loved, and a child he will never know.

word count: 3.8k.

notes: *inhales* ANGST— lmao but really, I live for it. Toji may be a bad person, but I suck dick, not morals, so ¯\_(ツ)_/¯ bro I fr don’t even know what came over me. This has been like the smallest headcannon for me and somehow it turned into this horribly sad piece, and although Toji is a dick, I also think he is an incredibly complex character that, at the end of it all, was just a desperate father trying to look out for his child. I think he deserves much more than he got, and he kinda gets shat on in this fic lmao I'm so fuCKING SORRY FOR THAT--

warnings: nsfw/18+, angst, hurt no comfort, abandonment, unplanned pregnancy, pregnant reader

“Take me,” he prays, panting secrets that fall from his lips onto your soft skin; promises of pleasure as he breeds you deep. “Take all of me.”

And you do – over, and over, and over again.

Hilting him to the deepest part of yourself, and holding him close, so close, his breath a hot ghost across your face as he leans his forehead against yours. You keep him there until he is finished, taking his seed like it was sacrament. He gives you everything he has to offer, and only when you have slipped into a light slumber does he pull away.

He never strays far, though, and he cannot stay away for long. You are like sweet honey and warm sunsets; the breathing embodiment of a life he was never before privy to – the promise of something better; a miracle. Far from the cold depravity and sharp pain of his own family, in you, he found only warm touches, and words of tender affection. Toji feels so overwhelmed by the amount of love he has for you, that sometimes it’s unbearable. He feels so happy he could die.

He is not an honest man, by any means. He kills for a vocation -- and enjoys it, too. It’s something he’s good at. It’s an easy way to make money, and it helps him pay for his half of the rent on the meagre apartment you share. It also lets him keep the fridge full, make sure you’re always warm, and that you’re never without. He doesn’t really care about himself or what he has to do – so long as you’re happy.

The weight of his body is always heavy between your thighs, his chest solid, thrusts slow and deep, stretching you, making a perfect fit for himself inside you. He likes drawing it out – each time he takes you. He enjoys seeing you beg for release, relishes the way your tears slide down your flushed cheeks, because he likes being the one to kiss them away, knowing he is the only one who ever makes you feel this good. His name sounds so perfect when it falls from your lips at your height of ecstasy, and the way you take him in has him swearing he can see heaven.

You see a side of him that no one else does, but he’s dark, he’s toxic. The amount of sadness in his soul is challenged only by the sheer force of his anger. He's sure that he wasn’t always like this, but... he can’t really remember a time when he wasn’t. Everyone and everything was his enemy. He’s never really told you much about his family, or his past. His childhood had been dark, you assumed, based on the way he flinched around children, and steered clear of any conversational topics that included them or parental figures.

Toji Fushiguro was untouchable to everyone, and only just tangible to you.

He wants to be able to give you everything. He wants to lay his head on your chest in the depths of the night when he’s feeling lost, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to come home every night, no matter what happens to him throughout the day, and be able to feel the brush of your soft lips; to taste your tongue with his – god – he wants to. But he’s afraid. He’s scared. If he gives you everything... if he shows you who he really is... what happens if you see something you don’t like? Will you pull away from him? Will you cast him out and abandon him – just like his family did? Toji isn’t feeble by any sense of the word, but he thinks that would be the one thing that would break him.

That’s why he’s only let you see glimpses... and only every now and then.

He’s just so miserable when he’s alone. He’s angry at the world, and you’re the only thing that soothes him. The only thing he has ever loved.

You’re staring at yourself in the mirror when he comes home, locked away in the too-small bathroom. You hear the keys turning in the lock; a signal of his arrival, and the door to your apartment opens, bringing with it sounds of paper bags crinkling, keys being tossed into their bowl, and huffing exhales as he struggles to kick his heavy boots off.

“Toji?”

“I’m home!” he calls, his voice a deep timbre in his chest, smooth like rich oak.

You follow it, leaving the safe space of your bathroom to find him, and when you pass the threshold into your small kitchen, he’s lifting bags of fresh groceries onto what little counter space you have. The movement carries with it droplets from an October rain that had caught him by surprise on his walk home, ones that hang from the edges of his black hair and drip down onto his damp black shirt.

“Toji,” you repeat, beaming as you bound into your small kitchen. “I have wonderful news!”

He spares you a glance between unpacking vegetables, dark eyes tracing the curve of your face, hands grasping at packets of food that need to be tossed in the fridge, and cans to be stacked in the shelves.

“Hmm?”

He offers you his face, leaning in close, pausing in his task to receive a small blessing of affection from you — a soft kiss against the scar on his lip that has his eyelashes fluttering closed, and then one more fully against yours – always greedy for any love you bestow, always chasing just one more, just once more, just another, my love, just one more...

He continues with his chore, but only when you giggle at the fluttering of kisses he peppers across your face, your jaw, suckling at your neck, your hands against his chest pushing him gently, urging him to finish his task – but not before you give him another deep kiss, all giddiness and mirth swimming in your gaze. He can’t help the deep chuckle that spills from his lips at seeing you so happy.

“Toji,” you begin, and he’s rummaging in the paper bags, brows furrowed because he could have sworn that he bought three carrots, and not two -- “I’m pregnant!”

He stills.

He can sense your beaming smile, almost feels the warmth of it on his cold skin, and it only makes him shiver.

The seconds tick by without any form of reaction, and the atmosphere grows horribly tense. Toji doesn’t look at you, but he can see from his peripheral vision that your smile slips at the same time that your shoulders round and you make yourself smaller, unconsciously closing off. You’re twisting something in your hands, suddenly nervous, and he has a nauseating feeling that settles in his gut, because he knows exactly what it is that you’re holding.

It’s proof.

“Are you... happy?” you ask, and you hate that you have to. It’s like a punch in the gut, and you’re afraid. This was not the reaction you were expecting at all.

“Are you sure?” he doesn’t know why he asks that.

He isn’t looking at you, and he isn’t moving – he’s not even blinking. You feel your hands becoming sweaty as you clutch the positive pregnancy test, mouth dry. A quickly increasing panic creeps over your skin, gripping you by the throat, and you honestly have no idea how to traverse this kind of response to your news. In the bathroom you only practiced scenarios in relation to a beaming, positive reaction.

Which room should we make into the baby’s room? Our baby can always sleep with us, though, and I know they’re definitely going to prefer you – I'm hopeless with kids... but I hope they look like you, Toji – a perfect combination of everything I love about you!

Do you want to pick names out? I hope it’s a girl... but a boy would be wonderful, too! I know the baby will adore you, no matter what! Do you have any names you like? We can name them after someone you love? If it’s a boy, I want to make his middle name yours...

Why didn’t you think he was going to show apprehension or reluctance? Why were you so idiotic to assume this is something he desired when he’s never given you any signs of wanting to start a family? He’s probably feeling entirely overwhelmed – and no wonder – you have no tact about this. Fuck, you’re stupid. You fucking idiot. Pathetic, dumb, worthless--

“Y-yes,” you reply, and your voice is a shadow of its former self. “I took three tests. I have one here--”

“How.”

You flinch a little under the curtness of his words.

“W-what—?”

“How did this happen?”

“Uhm...” your voice sounds so frail when you speak, and you can't help it. He’s making you feel like you’ve committed a horrendous sin. You’ve managed to combine the epitome of affection between the two of you into the creation of what will become a child – a perfect mix of the two of you, and yet, you’re beginning to hate yourself for doing so. You didn’t mean to... it was an accident... “We don’t... you know... use protection... and we... have sex... a lot...”

“I thought you were taking the pill.”

You feel like you want to throw up.

His entire body is unnaturally still, and he’s not looked at you once since you’ve told him. You are pretty sure that the can in his right hand is warping under the violent pressure of his grasp, and you wring your hands around the test nervously, the weight of it somehow heavy against your palms.

“I... don’t take the pill...” you remind, and then as an afterthought, you add, “I’m sorry.”

Words you never thought you would say in relation to this. You never though you would have to apologize in this kind of situation. You exhale a shaky breath, and it seems to bring him back to reality. He sets the can down on the countertop with more force than needed, and you try your best to blink back tears as you ask, “You’re... not happy... are you...?”

It’s more of a statement than a question, and it hurts to say – god, it hurts. The words sting when they leave your mouth, like a hard slap against your face, but the ache is not nearly as bad as the way his silence is wounding you. You feel like you’re about to collapse from the amount of pain you have in your heart.

“I need to go somewhere,” is the most he offers you, before he’s turning on his heels and striding past you, leaving the apartment you share.

The noise of the front door slamming shut echoes in your mind long after the sound itself has gone.

He never did come back.

— — — 5 years later — — —

In the end, you were blessed with a baby girl, all chubby with round, rosy cheeks. Dark hair and eyes like her father, but soft and gentle like her mother. She was an almost perfect child. She never cried, and she never fussed, content in just being close to her mother. She listened when you spoke, and learned fast, growing just as quick, and you would die for her. She was your blessing; Akemi – the beauty of a new dawn.

You’re sure that he would have loved her more than life itself, but you try not to spare any thoughts his way anymore.

Toji gambles his life away, blowing through anything he earns as quickly as he makes it, drowning himself night after night in heavy alcohol to dampen his senses until they are nothing more than a faint hum in the back of his brain.

With any luck, those things will kill him long before the guilt does.

He fucks faceless women, drunk beyond sense, and when he finishes, he leaves before they sleep.

“Hate me, (y/n),” he sneers, turning sharply to vomit up onto the wet asphalt, breath a shaky exhale as he stumbles into the cold night, thoughts only on you – only ever on you – unaware that he’s crying. “Hate me. I fucking deserve it.”

His face is smeared with bile and tears, and he is so fucking angry -- so desperately sad, and he cries, and cries. He wants to go home. He just wants to go home. He wants to meet her – his darling daughter – he wants to hold her, and kiss her forehead, and tuck her into bed. Fuck everything that he thought – he would have been a great father, he knows it – and you knew it, too. He’s so lost without you, and he wants to lay his head on your chest in the safety of your bedroom, listening to the steady rhythm of your heartbeat to guide him home. He wants to feel the brush of your soft lips again; to taste your tongue with his, moan your name into your parted sigh, make you feel him again.

He screams, but it catches in his throat before he can, and he splits his knuckles open when he sends a furious punch against a brick wall.

He can protect you from a lot of things – but not the power of his family. Not that. He’s just one man, and they’re so many. He has a heavenly restriction, and they are all blessed with both innate and inherited techniques, passed down through eons. He knows what they’ll do if they ever found out about you – about the child, and Toji swears on everything he has, that he won’t let them touch you – or her. Even if he won’t be able to. Even if he’ll never be able to hold his daughter, to thank her for being born, to cradle her against his chest and feel her wrap her small fingers against his – he won’t let the Zen’in have her. He won’t.

But that doesn’t mean that he deprives himself from watching over her – or you. Eyes follow the two of you home from her pre-school, singing nursery rhymes to your hearts content, watching as she orders “up, up, mommy!”, squealing happily when you lift her onto your shoulders. He imagines himself in your place; lifting her to higher heights, hearing her giggle a chorus of happy songs as your hand finds his, lips on his scar as you tell him how much you love him.

But he always keeps his distance, dark baseball cap shielding his features, and leaves before you feel someone following you.

It becomes increasingly hard to keep it at that. He starts pushing the boundaries, testing how close he can get. He knows he shouldn’t -- he has no right to – but when she dropped her stuffed toy one time in the supermarket, and you were oblivious to it, he finds himself bending down to grasp the too-soft toy in his calloused hands, dropping it in your basket when your back is turned, and your brows are furrowed as you regard the price difference between her favorite flavor of juice compared to the off-brand ones.

The thrill of being so close, of doing something, anything fatherly, was like a fix – a short relief from the aching despair and loneliness constantly plaguing him, and he finds himself doing it more and more – always pushing, always testing the waters. He even smiled at her once when she caught him staring, and she sent her own toothy grin back at him. His heart soared.

His daughter’s name was Akemi, and he first heard it when it fell from your lips one warm afternoon. He wants to write her name on his heart – right beside yours.

He wants to give her something – a pretty gift, but he doesn’t know what. He was never good at buying presents, and would only ever bring you flowers, since it seemed like something that could never go wrong, and would always bring a bright smile to your face. Flowers would be strange for a child, though. He twists the dainty silver bracelet between his large fingers, thinking bitterly that this was the same way you held the pregnancy test all those years ago. He didn’t really care how much it cost him. He’s sure that the salesman added unnecessary tax and extras to the price just to give himself more commission, but Toji doesn’t care – he just wanted something pretty to give to his daughter.

When he finally sees her enter the park, small hand tugging yours happily, his mind goes empty, and he can’t stop staring. You are as beautiful as ever, and it’s no wonder his daughter is so ethereal when she has you for a mother.

She is perfect, he thinks -- too good for this life -- and even though it’s the worst thing he has ever done, he is reminded that pulling away from you was the only way to save her from his family. It looks like she escaped the curse of inheriting any of his bloodline's techniques, and what’s more so – it seems like she, too, is oblivious to curses; skipping past them as she chases leaves that skit about the dirt path of the park, her teddy in her arms. Toji dips his head down when she draws near the bench he’s sitting on, the brim of his baseball cap keeps his face hidden, and his sadness known only to himself.

“Excuse me?”

He bristles when her voice floats past his ears, so gentle and sweet.

“Hey, mister,” she pokes his knee with her slim finger, so tiny compared to the size of his body, and he jerks at the contact. “Is this yours?”

She’s holding the bracelet in her small hand, the silver glinting in the morning sun, offering it up to him with large eyes, so close to him. At this distance, he can see the true color of her eyes – exactly like his own – and the small freckles that dot her skin. The longer he stares, the more his chest constricts painfully, tightly – he’s finding it hard to breathe, and he exhales suddenly, sharply snatching it away from her.

The force of the movement causes her to stumble a little, tripping over her feet, and before she knows it, the man who was once sitting before her has entirely caught her in his large arms, scooping her up before the ground has a chance to harm her.

She blinks once... twice... swaddled in his arms, sitting against his broad chest, and Toji frantically looks for you, finding you caught up in talking to another mother, too busy to notice. He knows he would scold you for it if he was still in your life, but when his daughter laughs, he snaps his head back to look at her, forgetting what thoughts he had in his mind at the glinting sound of her happiness.

“Whoa!” she exclaims, “You’re fast! Thanks for catching me!”

He doesn’t know what to say – if he should say anything at all. His plan was to give her the bracelet, telling her that it was a late birthday gift from someone that loves her very much, and walking off before she (or you) has the chance to catch on or respond. But now that he’s inches away from her, holding her close as she peers up at him, he’s lost again. He’s lost, and he can’t breathe. He needs you to steady him, but you aren’t here, and he doesn’t know what to do, what should he do, what should he--?

“Where did you get that scar from?” she asks innocently, her large eyes suddenly trained on the mark beside his lips.

“F-from an accident,” he mumbles, “a long time ago.”

“Oh,” she hums, hands splayed against his broad chest, looking around her, swaying her legs absentmindedly. “Wow, you’re really tall! I can see everything from up here!” she exclaims happily, “My mommy’s not as tall as this, so when I sit on her shoulders, I can’t see nearly as much as I can now!”

“Oh,” he mutters, not really knowing what to say, “is that so?”

“Mhm,” she nods, “Mommy’s not as big as you are either.”

At this, he gives a genuine laugh – a sound he hasn’t heard fall from his lips in a long, long time, looking at her with quiet adoration.

“She’s not as fast as you either,” she continues, “you were super-fast!”

“She’s strong in her own ways, though,” he mutters, offering her a soft smile.

“Do you know my mommy?”

He bristles, actively avoiding her gaze. His heart is racing from this much interaction with his daughter, and he’s sure she can feel it under her small palm. It beats for her – if only she knew, and Toji contemplates, for the briefest of seconds, just telling her. The thought leaves his mind as soon as it enters. He doesn’t have that choice, and he doesn’t deserve it.

“Not really,” he mutters, dipping down slowly to set her footing on solid ground once more.

“She’s really pretty,” the little girl continues, playing with the soft fabric of his t-shirt in a small moment of fondness and familiarity, “and nice – and she makes great food!”

Toji realises only after the fact that his hand had settled on top of her head, and he’s stroking her hair softly, thumb caressing her cheek when he moves to cup her face. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, and Toji is overwhelmed with a plethora of emotions. Pride in you for doing all this by yourself and raising such a wonderful child, shame for abandoning you and his daughter, mirth, anger, warmth, sadness, love--

“Akemi!” you call, seeing her lift her head at the sound of your voice. “This way, honey!”

“Oh, I have to go now! My mommy is calling me!” she perks up, gripping her teddy a little tighter and offering the man a smile. “Bye-bye!”

“W-wait!” he calls, thrusting the gift into her small hands. “This is for you, uh... f-from me...”

She looks down at it, before her whole face lights up, and Toji is suddenly breathless – she looks so much like you when she’s surprised, happiness blossoming over her face the same way it would on yours.

Toji feels a deep-rooted emptiness inside his body when he watches his daughter retreat away from him; a living embodiment of all his failures to you, and yet, as he sees her long, black hair whip out behind her, he realizes something else — she was your promise delivered; a combination of everything good between the two of you, in itself a miracle. He might not be in her life, but he was also partly responsible for creating something so beautiful, so ethereal.

He knows he doesn’t deserve it, but if he was ever fortunate enough to be granted a second, it would be a miracle; a holy gift.

A blessing that would accompany the beauty of dawn.

#jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you #toji x reader #fushiguro toji x reader #toji x you #fushiguro toji x you #angst #pregnant!reader #abandonment #dilf toji

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glowingbadger · 3 years

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do you have anything in the ask box abt sfw + nsfw hcs w caspar and linhardt??-- if not, could i rq them pls?

Two Very Good Boys TM why have I not written more for them yet lol - especially Lin, he's a fav of mine for sure~

Also. Can I just say. Linhardt has so much Game. Like, half of his support chains end with him being like "what if we fucked and/or got married haha jk... unless?" and the other person just 👀👉👈

Caspar, Linhardt x GN Reader

SFW (nsfw below the cut)

Caspar:

- Caspar is as intense and energetic about love as he is about everything else. His feelings for you grow steadily as you work together as friends and allies, and he eventually realizes that there's a reason why he's always bizarrely excited for dull monastery chores like supply runs and patrols when he's assigned with you.

- When he finally confesses, it's in the middle of some such chore. He's been staring at you oddly as you work, until he abruptly says your name, then blurts out, "I think I'm in love with you." He practically shouts it at you, his eyes fiery and his face red. Once you work past the shock of the moment and affirm that you feel the same, he pumps a fist in the air, then laughs as he lifts you and spins you in a circle.

- He's not exactly "smooth" and doesn't have much romantic experience, but his unwavering sincerity and desire to be good to you makes up significantly for these. He's terrible at surprise gifts, since he always wants to get you something you'll love, so he'll spoil it by saying something like "So how do you feel about danishes??" right before heading to the best bakery in town. But when you thank him, wearing one of those warm, genuine smiles- he just melts, and he figures he doesn't have to be smooth or clever as long as he can make you smile like that.

- This. Man. Is a Cuddler. He doesn't like to be "mushy" in public, but he truly adores every-day physical displays of affection. He can't help swinging your hands a little when your fingers are laced during a walk through town, and if you're alone together, he just habitually has to be holding or touching you somehow. Caspar was never one to sit still for long- until he realizes that holding you to his chest while the two of you chat on his bed is completely addictive.

Linhardt:

- Oh Lin, this beautiful weirdo. For a long while, you won't get much of a love confession from him; instead, he just continuously puts himself near you. He doesn't need anything from you, and there's no pressure to keep him occupied in conversation- he just finds he's soothed in your presence. He doesn't question it until he finds himself even choosing your company over his studies or sleep. Then, for some time, he actually finds this new feeling rather disturbing.

- Finally, you're both enjoying a sunny afternoon, reading, casually chatting a bit, him dozing off periodically. In a quiet moment when you'd assumed he was fast asleep, he instead turns towards you and quite suddenly says, "If I were to tell you that I find myself quite insistent upon being near you at every possible opportunity, how would you describe that feeling?" when you don't give an immediate response, he follows this up with, "Would you consider that romantic attraction? Perhaps I really have fallen for you... hm..."

- Linhardt doesn't have much of a memory for birthdays and holidays (his mind is generally occupied with any number of other things), but you're not likely to find yourself doubting his feelings for you, nor his commitment. That's because he's very blunt about telling you. The delicate propriety of the nobility is of very little concern to him, so he feels no hesitation about placing a kiss to your lips in the middle of the (very occupied) library and telling you, "My, you are exceptionally lovely today." Before, of course, returning to his search for whatever tome he'd insisted he needs to review for his latest topic of interest.

- He is an excellent listener when you've had a stressful day or are in a bad mood. Though you will need to tell him directly if you're just looking to vent, because he's one to always think of a straightforward solution for you. But, as a creature of his comforts, Lin is wonderful at helping you relax. He'll hold you and rub small circles along your back until one or both of you dozes off- if you need it, he'll even force himself to stay up long enough to talk more, or recite some list of known crest effects until his gentle, even voice lulls you to sleep.

NSFW 18+ v

Caspar:

- He likes sex intense and passionate, and has no problem "doing most of the work," as it were. You may have to guide his pace a bit, as he can get a bit too excited- but he has immense stamina, so you'll certainly be satisfied by the end. In fact, he's fully capable of cumming more than once in a night, with a fairly short refractory period, so if you're up for it, fucking Caspar can become quite a workout in its own right.

- Caspar can be pretty bitey- he loves marking you and being marked, and even he's surprised by how much he just loves burying himself at the crook of your neck, or at your chest, or your lower stomach. He's been attracted to people before, sure, but he's never known he could be so absolutely entranced by someone's body before you.

- As you'd imagine, he's pretty vocal in bed, and likes it when you are too. His pleasured grunts and moans are completely shameless, communicating exactly how incredible you make him feel. He doesn't have much of an innate sense for dirty talk, but he loves it when you talk dirty. Even simple encouragement, like "Oh, Caspar- fuck, just like that! Mmmh- your cock feels so good-!" gets his body burning to his very core. He never realized it before, but his ultimate weakness is when you can tell he's getting close, and you moan out that you want him to cum for you. It's his kryptonite, and his body shudders as a powerful orgasm takes over him.

- His cock is about average length-wise, but it is thick and very nicely veined. He's not excessively sensitive or anything, but if you manage to tie him up or force him to slow his pace in some other way, it is deliciously easy to reduce him to a whiny, needy mess. He'll buck his hips up as you tease the tip of his cock with a slickened finger, desperation in his eyes as he groans out, "Ungh, Y/N, this is torture- please, I- I want you so bad-!"

Linhardt:

- He's deeply focused and fascinated by your body, and will study you for as long as you can withstand his gentle touch. He wants to know your every single turn on, your every tender sweet spot, and wants to hear every possible way you can moan his name. Related- I've seen a lot of people assume Lin is entirely and exclusively a bottom out of laziness, and I firmly disagree. We've seen how intensely he commits himself to the things that have caught his interest, and once you're his, he's going to learn everything he can about your pleasure. He's open minded and willing to try almost anything at least once, provided it's not too strenuous.

- Lin very much enjoys exploring some less expected erotic pleasures; things like circling your fingertips with his tongue, then nipping and sucking at the tender skin, or fucking between your thighs or ass cheeks without fully entering you until you beg him. His easy self-confidence and patience make him something of an unintentional soft dom. It's not that he aims to make you whimper and beg for him before he finally enters you- it's just that he's enjoying your body so much that he doesn't feel the need to rush.

- He loves cockwarming. Lying comfortably on his side with you cradled against him and his length buried in your warm little hole- it's absolute heaven for him. He gets to relax and feel completely at ease and even a little sleepy as you hold him deep inside of you, and it's adorable when you squirm a little, trying to get his cockhead to rub into you a certain way. He gives a light chuckle and nuzzles against the back of your neck, murmuring, "Now, now, don't be impatient- aren't you comfortable?"

- He's not much of a fan of the mess that can come with sex, and resents the cleanup time required, as once he's cum, he wants nothing more than to just hold you close and let your steady breathing lull him to sleep. So, he'll generally do his best to minimize marks, or a mess of cum- though, given his method is frequently to lick you clean, who's complaining.

#caspar von bergliez #linhardt von hevring #caspar x reader #linhardt x reader #fire emblem #feh #fe3h #fire emblem three houses #fire emblem headcanons #fluff and smut #fire emblem smut #fire emblem x reader

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