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#I draw too much and forget to post any of it I apologize
griffin-ktb · 3 months
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KH Doodle Dump 🫶✨
I will never not be thinking of Soriku
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girlgenius1111 · 3 months
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i don't know why i am the way i am
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barça femeni x reader
when r scores an own goal, leading to the first not-win of the season, she is wracked with guilt. it suffocates her, until her teammates step in. angst, fluff.
warnings: pretty angst. unintentional self harm but... not really? lots of self resentment. r is sad :(
-----
As soon as the ball bounced off your head, you knew it was going the wrong way. You couldn't explain it, you just knew. Your senses were heightened as you landed back on the ground, whipping your head behind you. The ball was already in the back of the net, the opposing team already celebrating around you. You felt frozen, watching Cata pick up the ball, not looking at you. She looked frustrated. You assumed that was directed at you.
There wasn't much you could have done; the ball was already bouncing off an opponents head towards you. It would have gone in even if you hadn't touched it. Yet still, guilt chewed at you from the inside. It was an own goal. In a tough match for the team, where everyone left everything out on the pitch. There were only a few minutes left, and you'd let the opposing team tie the score.
"Olvídalo," Irene said, placing a hand on your shoulder. Forget it. How could you?
You knew you wouldn't be forgetting it anytime soon. Not when Barça failed to score before the clock ran out. Not when the other team celebrated as the final whistle blew; even a draw with Barça was an achievement. Not when your teammates tried to tell you it was alright, that it didn't matter. Not even when Cata pulled you into a hug, promising that she didn't blame you.
It felt like everyone was watching you, teammates, opponents, coaches, everyone. You stuck around on the pitch only as long as you had too, shaking hands and numbly extending congratulations. Then, you were practically speed walking inside, towards the locker room. A hand caught your shoulder, stopping you in your tracks.
"Hey, don't beat yourself up, kid. It happens to everyone. That was going in either way." Lucy said softly. You searched her face for any sign of annoyance, of anger, and found none; the only recognizable emotion was concern. She was sporting her usual post-game ice pack around the knee, but it was clear that she'd ran over to catch you before you could disappear. You didn't deserve her kindness, not when you'd just singlehandedly ended the team's impressive winning streak.
You didn't really have anything to respond to that; a disagreement from you would only prompt her to try to convince you. And you couldn't agree, not when she was so very wrong. So, you shrugged, pulling away from her, and continuing on into the building. You felt her watching you as you walked away. You didn't deserve her kindess.
You were first to the showers, allowing a few tears to slide down your face now that you'd finally found solitude. The team was quiet as they filed into the locker room and eventually, the showers. A draw was not a result anyone was happy with. Not when they'd basically had the game won.
Finishing up your shower and heading back into the locker room, you tried to avoid eye contact with everyone. Unfortunately for you, the injured players had made their way down and it seemed like Alexia was waiting for you. The minute you'd gotten to your locker, she was hovering next to you.
"Talk with me outside for a minute?" She asked quietly, although you knew it wasn't a request. Sighing, you nodded, following her out of the room. Your captain led you down the hall and around the corner, to a vacant hallway, before turning around and looking at you with an unreadable expression on her face.
You couldn't decide if you should apologize or not; mistakes were something you should apologize for, and this was a mistake. At the same time, you got the feeling Alexia hadn't pulled you aside to lecture you.
"Are you upset?" Alexia asked you after a minute. You looked at her in disbelief.
"Of course I'm upset."
"You should not be." She replied.
"I lost us the match," you scoffed.
The blonde shook her head. "We did not lose, we drew. And no one loses the match singlehandedly. Losing is a team effort, just like winning is."
"I think an own goal is pretty much losing the match for us, Capi."
Still, Alexia persisted. "No, pequeña. This is not your fault." She could tell you didn't believe her.
"Y/n, Alexia, vamos." Jona called, evidently instructing you both to reenter the locker room for the post match talk. You walked off without another word, and Alexia followed, concern tugging at her as she watched the defeated way you carried yourself.
-----
If your teammates thought that you'd get over this one fast, they would be proven wrong. Three days later, and your behavior was only increasingly concerning. You'd been training like a crazy person. Extra reps of everything, staying after training to work on penalties.
Everyone had tried speaking to you about it, especially because it was clear you were working yourself into the ground. You wouldn't hear a word, though, even going so far as to shove Irene's hand off your shoulder and tell her to leave you alone. Your behavior wasn't normal for you. You didn't joke around with Pina and Patri, you didn't try to kick balls at Mapi's back when she wasn't looking. You didn't ask Ingrid or Frido to fix your hair, and you hadn't pestered Lucy about getting coffee with you before training.
No one was quite sure why you were taking this so hard; everyone had own goals, everyone dealt with them. You were acting like your career was on the line, though, and it very much wasn't.
On the fourth day, you were acting the same. You were exhausted, clearly, both mind and body. Alexia finally decided to put her foot down after you almost collapsed into her during sprints. It was halfway through training, and it was an endurance day. The team was only halfway through the assigned sprints when you stumbled, pitching forward.
"Kid?" Lucy questioned, lunging forward to catch you before you hit the ground.
"Fine. I'm fine." You mumbled, shutting your eyes and waiting for the wave of dizziness to pass. Lucy held you up, looking over your shoulder to make eye contact with Alexia.
"Keep going." Your captain directed to the rest of the team, who had slowed down, looking over at you. The blonde made her way over to you, pulling you away from Lucy and into her, directing you over to a bench on the side of the pitch. She waved away Jona and the physios, crouching down in front of you.
"I'm okay, I just tripped." You said halfheartedly, even as you swayed slightly where you sat.
"Do not try, pequeña. Drink." Alexia ordered, handing you a water bottle. She stayed right in front of you, as if making sure you were actually going to drink the whole thing. You chugged it, before trying to stand. Alexia rose with you, giving you a look as she placed her hands on your trembling shoulders.
"No, pequeña. You need to rest. You are overworking yourself." Your captain's voice was stern, but it only made you angry.
"Alexia, I am fine. How many times do I have to tell you that? Let me go back to training."
"No. You go back to training, and you are benched this weekend."
Your jaw dropped, as a look of pure apprehension passed over your face, before it was quickly replaced by one of fury.
"Fine." You seethed, shrugging out from under Alexia's hands, and stomping towards the locker room. It was the second time in a week you'd walked away from her when she'd been trying to help you, and she was beginning to worry that if she didn't get through to you soon, the consequences would be bad.
-----
Your fists pounded, again and again, into the punching bag. Your knuckles on both your hands were split open, blood oozing from the cuts. Bruises were forming on your hands; you hadn't wrapped them like you were supposed to, and you'd been at this for close to a half hour. You had no plans to stop anytime soon. There was so much frustration, disappointment, and anger inside of you, and it had to go somewhere.
You'd gone home, briefly, after Alexia had forced you out of training, and tried to rest, despite your arguments. The minute you sat down on the couch, though, the feelings of guilt once again became overwhelming. The only time you didn't feel inadequate, guilty, filled with resentment towards yourself was when you were doing something. So, once you were sure everyone else would be gone from the Barça training grounds, you threw on training gear and headed back over.
You'd been in the gym since, working away at the punching bag. It was starting to stain with your blood, but you didn't notice. You didn't notice any of it, the pain in your hands least of all.
Your own goal kept replaying, over and over, inside your head. The gasp from the crowd, the cheer of the opposing team. It echoed around inside your head, haunting you.
You didn't hear the door to the gym open, didn't hear the soft calls of your name. You jumped when an arm wrapped around your midsection tugging you back from the punching bag, fighting the embrace. You looked up into the mirror, seeing Ingrid tightly holding you to her body, and calmed somewhat.
"It's okay, it's okay," her words broke through the fog. As she spoke, you realized there were tears falling rapidly down your face. Mapi stepped in front of you, grabbing your hands in hers.
"Dios mio cariño," she murmured, taking in the damage you'd done. You were dizzy, suddenly, and you collapsed back into Ingrid, knees buckling.
"Easy, elskling," she said, catching your weight easily. Her and Mapi got you over to one of the massage tables in the room, sitting you down as you leaned heavily into Ingrid. Your heartbeat was loud in your ears, and you weren't quite sure what was going on. Other than the feeling of Ingrid's hand rubbing up and down your arm, no other sensations registered.
It felt like only seconds had passed when someone pressed an ice cube into your hand, wrapping your swelling fingers around it. You jolted up and away from Ingrid, somewhat coming back into yourself.
"Hey, pequeña, you with me?" Alexia asked, standing in front of you and peering at you worriedly.
When had Alexia gotten here? And when had Mapi finished cleaning your hands off? All the lights were on in the room, now, and you were suddenly aware that a unknown period of time had passed.
"Yeah. Yeah, I'm with you," you murmured, mouth feeling dry, teeth chattering.
The girls exchanged looks. "What were you doing here?" Ingrid wondered.
"I had some energy I needed to burn off." You said, looking down at your bandaged hands.
"I told you no more training today, pequeña. Why did you not wrap your hands?" Alexia questioned, eyes narrowing slightly with worry.
"I forgot to."
"Forgot? You did not notice that it hurt?" Mapi said.
"No. I didn't feel it." You explained. Your friends didn't like the way your voice sounded, not at all. It was completely monotone, no emotion or inflection to it; like you were numb. You did feel numb, honestly. Now that the feelings had faded, you were left empty. All that registered with you was the throbbing in both your hands, and the fact that you were suddenly, incredibly exhausted. "What were you guys doing here?"
"I went to check on you, and your car was not home. I had Mapi and Ingrid meet me here."
"Oh."
You slid of the table, standing on slightly wobbly legs. Your teammates all moved closer, as if expecting you to collapse again.
You looked at them, raising an eyebrow. "I'm good, guys. Really."
"Stop telling us that when it is absolutely clear that you are not okay." Mapi pleaded.
You shook your head instinctually, crossing your arms over your chest, but wincing as you did so, the movement causing pain to shoot across your swollen knuckles.
When Ingrid spoke, her tone was painfully gentle, like you were fragile. "Elskling, you are not okay. We care about you and we want-"
"-Well stop caring. I don't want you to." You cried, frustrated with them, with everything. With yourself most of all.
"Amiga, we are not going to stop caring about you," Mapi began, eyebrows furrowing as you interrupted her, tears beginning to flow down your face once again.
"I don't understand why you aren't all mad at me. Yell at me, tell me you're disappointed, do something. I can't take this anymore, please." You sobbed, bringing a wounded hand up to cover your eyes. You'd hit your breaking point, clearly. For better or for worse.
"Cariño," Alexia whispered, moving closer to pull you into a hug. You pushed away from her, trying to head for the door. Your teammates couldn't let you leave, though, not in this state. Ingrid grabbed you around the waist once again, pulling you into her even as you fought her hold.
"Stop, stop, stop," you repeated, words barely understandable through your tears.
"I can't let you go right now, y/n, I'm sorry," Ingrid murmured. Weakly, you continued to struggle against the Norwegian, trying to squirm your way out of her arms.
"Stop try-trying to comfort me. 'Don't deserve it," you choked out. In front of you, Mapi and Alexia stood, heartbroken, unsure of what to do, though they were desperate to do something.
It was all too much for you, understandably so, and you gave up your struggle, allowing Ingrid to ease you to the ground, her grip on you never faltering. You cried into her shirt, soaking it with your tears, leaning into the comfort she brought even as you were so convinced you didn't deserve it.
You were slumped against Ingrid, body trembling as the Norwegian tried to hold you steady, when Mapi approached with the first aid kit. She began to carefully wrap your knuckles up. Her touch was kind and gentle, where the wounds you had inflicted were left in a harsh and cruel fashion. It was the rhythmic movements of the bandages being wrapped around your hands that got you to stop crying. Something about it was strangely comforting; maybe, it was just the care that you were being shown, even as you'd fought so hard to reject it.
Your gaze was torn away from Mapi's hands holding your own when Alexia approached with a damp towel in hand. Your captain wiped carefully at the tear tracks staining your cheeks, face pinched with worry. The room was completely quiet, and you flinched when that quiet was broken.
"Let's get you home, okay?" Alexia suggested, leaving it up to you. You nodded minutely, allowing Mapi to pull you to your feet, and lead you out the gym door. You went willingly, all the way to Alexia's car, compliant as Mapi helped you into the front seat and buckled you in.
"We love you. You know that, right?" She asked quietly, leaning against the door as Alexia slid into the drivers seat.
"I know." You admitted, voice raspy from the stress it had been through. Looking up at Mapi, she could tell that you did know it, even if you didn't quite understand why. Exchanging a look with Alexia, she pressed a soft kiss onto your forehead, before shutting the door and heading to her own car, where Ingrid was awaiting her.
Alexia drove you towards her house, and once again, you didn't object. Before, you'd been completely tense, wound so tight she was worried you would snap. It seemed like you finally had; she glanced over at you while stopped at a red light. You were curled into yourself, arms wrapped around your body as if you needed to physically hold yourself together. The fight had gone out of you, and Alexia felt that she should be glad, that you weren't fighting her anymore. Instead, she only felt dread at the aura of defeat that seeped off of you, filling the car.
This guilt, this desperate desire to make your percieved transgression right, it had to come from somewhere. Alexia was absolutely dead set on finding out where. You were just a kid, and you were much too good, completely and purely good, to despise yourself to such a massive extent, over something that wasn't even really your fault. She was determined, also, to dismantle this guilt. Whatever it took.
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i don't think im capable of... not writing part twos.
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helios-writings · 4 months
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Keep my Hand in Yours
Sanji x gn! Reader
wc: 1k
Warnings: angst, post wci, wci spoilers(obvs) angst with a happy ending.
You’re angry at Sanji after what happened, so angry, and maybe that makes you selfish. You don’t care.
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You shouldn’t be angry at Sanji, this you know. You shouldn’t be avoiding him, shouldn’t be refusing to eat the meals he’s cooked or refusing to be in the same room with him, but you are. You are pissed at him, you don’t want to speak to him, you don’t care if he left to protect the crew.
He still left. And maybe that makes you selfish, but you don’t care. You had to sit there and watch as he yelled and fought with Luffy, as he was driven in a way in a carriage by a family you didn’t even know he had, to marry someone else.
You know that Sanji knows you’re angry, if the space he’s giving you is any implication. He doesn’t beg or plead, doesn’t corner you in the kitchen, demanding that you speak to him. The most he’s done is look at you, blue eyes impossibly sorrowful, remorseful, their own silent apology. It’s not enough.
It only takes a week for Zoro to corner you instead. “This is getting ridiculous.”
“What is?” You ask as you sweep the deck.
“You and Curly, fighting.”
“We’re not fighting.”
“Not talking, then.”
“What’s it matter to you? You don’t even like Sanji.”
He groans. “Just talk to him. His sulking is getting on my damn nerves and making the food taste bad.”
“Fine.” You snap, annoyed.
You watch as he walks away, practically steaming. To be honest, you didn’t think the swordsman, out of all crew members, would be the first one to say something. You suppose that’s how you know it's really bothering everyone.
***
You enter the kitchen for the first time in nearly two weeks and lean against the counter. Sanji is washing the dishes, but he knows you’re there, can tell by the way he tenses up.
“Just give me one moment.” He says to you, voice even and gentle, barely even a whisper.
You wait, bouncing your leg, trying not to let your nerves show too much.
The water shuts off and then it’s just you and him in the late night darkness of the kitchen.
“I don’t know how easy it’ll be to forgive you.” You tell him, eyes downcast.
“I understand.”
You close your eyes, taking a deep breath, annoyed. “I don’t think you do.”
He’s annoyed now too. Sad on top of it all. “Then help me understand.”
“I would’ve waited right alongside Luffy,” you tell him, the anger and hurt making the words sound like venom, but they’re true, “I would’ve stood right there, waiting for you to come back to me. How am I supposed to just forgive you?”
Sanji’s face breaks then, a sob leaving his body as if it’s been torn out of his chest and he falls to his knees, hands gripping your pants tightly as he whispers an apology over and over, a relentless heartbroken echo. You can feel the tears absorb into the fabric.
You know he is. God, you know he is. The tears fall freely from your face as you collapse, too.
He draws you into his chest, burying his tear stained face into your hair. “I couldn’t bear to see you hurt, I know you don’t want to hear it, but it’s true. You’re everything to me.”
“And you’re everything to me. What was I going to do if you had died, like they had planned, or if you had decided that your bride was enough to make you forget about me? Forget about the crew?”
He takes your face in his hands almost immediately, his blue eyes dark in the moonlight, but you can still see the panicked desperation in them. “Never. I’d never forget about you.”
“She was in love with you.”
“I don’t care. I don’t care about any of it. Out of all the crew members, you were the one they had used against me the most. I don’t care what I had to do to keep you safe, I was going to do whatever they wanted.”
“You know what I’m going to say, Sanji.”
He pulls you closer. “I know. I can’t promise that I won’t try to sacrifice myself for you anymore. Any of you.”
“I can’t promise that I’ll forgive you right away each time.”
Sanji kisses your fingers. “Just….I need you to talk to me when you’re angry, even if all you do is tell me you’re upset. I can’t do this again.”
You kiss him on the cheek, just once. Softly, like it didn’t even happen. “Of course. Whatever you want me to do.”
“Are you still angry with me?” He’s smiling softly though, like he already knows the answer and doesn’t care.
“Pissed beyond belief.” You tell him, but you know that it’s still the leftover fear. The fear that you almost did lose him, that him riding away in the carriage could’ve been the last time you ever saw him.
“That’s alright,” he kisses your head and then stands, “are you hungry?”
You nod. “Starving, actually. The sandwiches I’ve been making can’t compare to your cooking after all.”
“I’d eat whatever you made,” he tells you, “even if it was disgusting and gave me food poisoning.”
You laugh, wrapping your arms around him. “I love you.”
“I love you too. Now, no distracting the cook. Go sit at the table and look pretty.”
You roll your eyes but do as he says. As you watch him cook from your place at the table, you know that there are going to be times when he thinks he knows what you need; thinks he knows about what’s best for you. You know it’ll lead to someone getting hurt or an argument, or whatever else happens in the aftermath, but you also know that you’re prepared to make it better, that you’d rather have him to argue with then you would rather have a body to bury and a eulogy to read out.
He walks towards you, putting a bowl of soup, reheated on the stove, in front of you, before you grab him by the hips and pull him into a simple kiss. When he pulls away, he sits next to you, holding your non-dominant hand. You don’t dare let go
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slayfics · 2 months
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I know you don't do anymore Mui fics, but I come with an offer. 👀
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I will draw you any character you want, or any oc x Canon art in exchange of a short Mui fic because I love your writing, preferably of valentines day but whatever works easier for you.
You may deny this offer if you so please in dms and or delete this ask.
I hope you have a great day and happy valentines day \(^□^)/🫶
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Valentines Day with Muichiro.
~500 words
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Your feet padded along the dark forest floor as you returned to Muichiro’s Mansion. You had been on a mission for several days, and your excitement at being back increased with every footstep.
Once the estate came into view, you were surprised to see dim lighting inside the mansion. You expected Muichiro to be resting or out on a late patrol.
When you walked inside the mansion you were met with the sight of Muichiro waiting patiently at the table.
“You made it back safely!” He exclaimed with a warm smile. “Not that I would have expected any less from you, but I’m glad you made it in time.” He spoke and gestured for you to join him at the table.
“Made it in time?” You asked and glanced at the table. The table was set for dinner for two, and origami flowers decorated the middle of the table.
“Mhm- seems I’m finally not the forgetful one,” Muichiro joked. “Today is Valentine’s Day.”
The days blurred together while you were out on your mission, and you had completely forgotten about the holiday.
“Oh! Happy Valentine's Master Tokito!” You said and finally sat down joining him at the table. “I’m sorry I had no idea it was today. I must have lost track of the days on my mission.”
“Don’t apologize, you completed your mission successfully. That’s all I could have hoped for.” He reassured you.
You nodded accepting his praise and looked over the food on the table, “You made this yourself?” You asked.
“Yes, it’s my favorite dish Furofuki Daikon. I thought it would be nice to share it together,” he answered.
Momentarily stunned for words all you could do was smile and nod. You hadn’t expected Muichiro to go through so much work for you.
“Please try it,” he urged, waiting for you to take a bite before he tried any of his.
You obliged and took a bite. It was better than you imagined- and after such a long journey it tasted heavenly.
“Wow this is amazing Tokito,” you spoke taking another bite.
“I’m glad you think so… it may have taken me a few times to remember how to make it just right,” he giggled. “Oh, before I forget this too-,” he cut off as he reached into his haroi and pulled out a gift. “Here these are for you.” He said handing you the gift.
You grabbed the gift reluctantly overwhelmed by his kindness. It had been this way since he regained his memories, but his fondness for you still took you by surprise.
You inspected the gift realizing they were long socks. “Uh- socks?” You asked smiling confused at him.
“Mhm,” he nodded. “Iguro said he gifted socks to Miss Kanroji once and she really enjoyed them so… do you not like them?” he asked, tilting his head to the side.
“No no!” You said quickly waving your hands. “I love them! They’re perfect- thank you Tokito! This is the most thoughtful Valentine’s Day I’ve ever had.” You spoke.
“Is that so? Then I’ll have to make sure I make the next one even better,” he said smiling.
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I was worried I wouldn’t be able to do this since my heart isn’t with Muichiro anymore- but I did my very best and I hope you like it! The artwork you made me is absolutely stunning 😫✨! I haven’t been able to take my eyes off it! Posting @naramaiz art of my OC Kansa and Katsuki Bakugo below because it’s absolutely perfect!
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vetinarivimesy · 1 year
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Kenobi-centric fic recs
Everything here will heavily feature Obi-Wan Kenobi in some fashion, and will vary wildly by ship, tone, and fic-type though I'll do my best to give little blurbs/not-too-spoilery summaries.
The fics range from gen to explicit, in some cases pre-date tagging ettiquette, and, no, no I have not re-read them all (ye gods have you seen the word counts).
In a few cases I'm basing my summaries on very hazy memory and I have a noted bad habit of skimming straight past explicit porn when I don't want to read it, then forgetting its there entirely - so caveat lector!
These are mostly fics that I currently mentally catalogue as Wonderful Obvious Obi-Wan Kenobi Goodness fics rather than expecting to dig up any obscure hidden gems. The list would probably look very different on a different day. It's far from comprehensive, and the categories are loose at best. But here it is!
I've been contemplating putting something like this together for a while but been a bit nervous of sticking my head up above the metaphorical parapet. As, follows my fave character around without caring overmuch about the ship trash, I've got quite a list of Star Wars fics inhaled/rediscovered.
(Wee bit too used to coming into very dead fandoms long after everyone's left, put the chairs up on the tables, the metaphorical lights have been turned off... and the not so metaphorical bills have stopped being paid. More than once I've stumbled into a wonderful old fandom fic archive only for it to vanish into, Only What Was Saved on the Internet Archive Remains status. Even when the archive isn't actually an ex-archive, many don't actually allow for interaction. Apologies to the authors I've never worked up the courage to comment on, this is an explanation not an excuse!)
Obi-Wan's apprenticeship fics:
Commander Kenobi - norcumi (complete, 9646 words)
Obi-Wan gets de-aged in the midst of battle. Cody gets to find out what teenaged Obi-Wan was like. Given Obi-Wan thinks he's fresh out of Melida-Daan, nothing like whatever Cody might have been expecting.
A Town Called Stagnation - deniigiq (complete, 33,000 words)
Qui-Gon and Obi-Wan take a trip to Stewjon, to let Obi-Wan get in touch with his roots post the horrorshow of his early apprenticeship. Smalltown thinking and the trauma of recent events clash horribly for everyone involved.
Another brilliant author who's whole fic-output is well worth checking out. Their wry utterly charming character voices never fail to amuse, even when the POV character is one I'm currently in an... actually I wouldn't mind some bashing of this guy kinda mood. I draw amusement and sympathy for Qui-Gon's character in every single one of their immediately post-Melida Daan fics for context here, with my knowledge of that event thoroughly warped and contaminated by the current popular fanon take on the matter too.
Though more Cody-centric, and thus Clone Wars era, than anything parallelogram (Complete, 33,000 words) and they're neutral (complete, 9900 words) by the same author are also wonderful.
poisoned chalice - qigiined (Complete, 9900 words)
Another author with the wit and deftness of characterisation to make immediately-post-Melida-Daan Qui-Gon's POV both amusing and sympathetic. They've also got quite a few other gems!
Qui-Gon's very wry POV as he tries to navigate raising a very traumatised child, and appeasing his various lineage members.
through hardships to the stars - kivaember (WIP, 148,000 words)
Canon divergence where Obi-Wan's apprenticeship snafu on Melida-Daan went just that much worse than those Legends-were-never-technically-canon novels would have it.
As a result Obi-Wan and a very young Jango Fett end up on the run from a terrifying darksider, whilst Jaster Mereel and Feemor despearately try to catch up with the pair.
Little Lights Stories - ms_nawilla (WIP, 628,000 words)
Qui-Gon neglected too much of Obi-Wan's training, so Obi-Wan isn't immediately knighted post-Naboo despite saving Qui-Gon's life and defeating the Sith.
Anakin goes to the creche, Qui-Gon's in utter denial, and Obi-Wan begins the rocky process of finding his own feet post-Naboo, getting through the thorny process of working out who you are as your own person after living under someone else's oppressive shadow for far too long.
Super detailed epic detailing all sorts of wonderful possible jedi-culture headcanons, illuminated manuscripts! beer! force-manipulation games! communal caring! crystallography! sex ed! old-people's homes! the engineers! clerical branch! outreach via art! dance instruction! reincarnation! politics! spies! terrible james bond esque spy films to hide that the spies were really real! lightsaber classes! non-jedi temple residents! U and L leaning prejudice! Alderaan!
Just what would happen if Qui-Gon Jinn were exactly the sort of irresponsible unpleasant adult who should never ever be given a child a lot of fandom suspects he is. His implied treatment of Obi-Wan here can be fairly harrowing, for all that its emotional neglect rather than anything graphic.
The jedi are never depicted as anything less than trying their best, unfortunately no matter how thorough the system tries to be, sometimes people do just fall through the cracks. As was v.nearly the case for Obi-Wan in this verse.
Mostly character driven, though the hints of the greater plot bubbling away underneath all of this glorious worldbuilding and character growth are both ominous and intriguing. The pairing is a hell of a spoiler, but also one that could potentially be a bit of a squick, I don't want to spoil the slowburn of this thing but I do want to give fair warning. Does tumblr offer spoiler tags?
Preventing Order 66 fics:
When Duty is Done - thosenearandfarwars (WIP, 257,000 words)
Wonderful long-form piece - technically a WIP but all installments so far are complete - a what happens next post-Palp's getting his comeuppance, messily. Features Codywan, grief, internalised ableism, jedi order reforming in a very nuanced 'we were this close to the brink' and lost so many people to the war sense *not* the sneaky 'jedi-positive but actually bashing' sense.
Hell I wholeheartedly reccie just about everything this author's ever done tbh!
(This Too Was a Gift (Complete, 69,000 words) is also utterly wonderfully done, and a complete fic in a similar vein, albeit much more focused on the ramifications for individual characters than the ensemble cast of thousands that is Star Wars.)
I Got My Head Checked - frostbitebakery (Complete, 79,000 words)
Codywan Sith!Obi-Wan AU. Cody falls for the hot Sith in the next cell...
Light of the Mists- Snowy Egret Chimes of Kyber, Songs of Kyber, and Anthem of Kyber (Complete, 166,000 words)
This one technically also fits the Obi-Wan's apprenticeship category too. Bit of an epic of, what would happen if Obi-Wan never made it to Bandomeer, and instead trained under a force sect with rather different ideas about how things worked than the modern jedi order?
Supreme Chancellor Obi-Wan Kenobi - stonefreeak (WIP, 113,000 words)
Wonderful crackfic premise done mostly seriously. (WIP)
By an extremely obscure bit of Senate Legalise, Obi-Wan finds himself thrust into the role of Supreme Chancellor. Palpatine is furious.
How A Romance Novel Saved The Galaxy - Ariana Deralte (WIP, 184,000 words)
The galaxy takes a left turn when a popular novel takes the world by storm, and the Jedi and Mandalorians mutually discover their two cultures aren't so different after all...
sanguine - glimmerglanger (complete, 158,000 words)
In which Obi-Wan being a vampire, with all the nasty prejudices that come with being a non-human in the GFFA, somehow saves the galaxy.
Just Go Kill Palpatine - nevertheless_turtle (WIP, 6662 words though this is likely an underestimate due to formatting of a wonderful epistolary/OutsiderPOV social-media-centric chapter)
Just as the title says. Obi-Wan goes and attempts to do just that. Wonderful and hilarious.
The More I Live the More I See this Life is Not About Me - K_R_Closson
Another de-aged Obi-Wan fic. In which post-Melida-Daan suspicious of everyone and everything Kenobi somehow fixes things. Everyone around Obi-Wan is suitably horrified by the news of just what his apprenticeship under Qui-Gon entailed.
Not Quite Sure How to Catergorise these...
This category is the equivalent of the draw marked 'misc.' sorry! Mostly a mix of action/adventure stuff and fics I suspect will turn into, and they prevented order 66 fix-its, but maybe not, with some other truly misc. things thrown in.
backdrop - esama (Complete, 2300 words)
Short and sweet self-contained little tale. Very succinct, but what the author does with those words...
Gunslinger's Paean - Idiot's Array + Homeworld Elegy - Ashcroft_Writes (WIP, 299,000 words)
Epic, what if Obi-Wan post-Rako Hardeen paired up with Cad Bane action adventure tale. Mistrust. Violence. Gunslinging. Espionage. Murder attempts galore!
We Brothers, We Sisters, We Vod'e Few - infinitecompositions(WIP, 322,000 words)
Hell of a fic. WIP. What if canon were to take just a step to the left... Post-Naboo Obi-Wan finds himself recruited for the Shadows branch of the jedi order...
Another epic, cough, can you tell what style I like yet? Uh, starts off as a bit of a dark action adventure romp, rapidly morphs into a detailed dissection of spy-craft, espionage, and galactic politics - but becomes no less tense for it.
Kneading - Threebea O (WIP, 79,000 words)
Manages the miraculous trick of being canon, whilst seeming to be a fluffy bakery AU for a significant chunk of the first few chapters.
Jango/Obi - Jango falls for a local baker whilst hanging out in small town with Boba. Increasingly important to the fate of the galaxy shenanigans inevitably ensue when aforementioned baker turns out to be Obi-Wan Kenobi undercover.
Be Your Love - glimmerglanger (complete, explicit, 9000 words)
I tend not to go for 'real world' AUs but this author's work is so very excellent that I'm reccieing this one - hell I think most of their work is well worth a look through, and every fic-genre they've attempted has proven very fun indeed.
Heed the tags. Explicit Codywan BDSM stuff contained within.
Wizard of the Jundland Wastes - phoenixyfriend (complete, 3200 words)
Obi-Wan on Tatooine, outsiderPOV.
One of many wonderful Star Wars fics this author has written. If this one doesn't catch your fancy, one of their many delightful utterly bizarre premise taken to logical conclusion fics probably will.
Father of the Year (Not) - phoenixyfriend (complete, 2430 words)
Obi-Wan and Jango find out they're each other's soulmates. Mostly they're furious.
Wonderful very pointed skewering of all the usual soulmate and Jango is actually a decent dude tendencies in fic-writing.
Time Travel fics:
I thought I fought this war alone - stonefreeak (Complete, 3783 words)
Wonderful short and sweet Obi-Wan time travelling to his padawan days fix-it.
this is unexpected - MarbleGlove (Complete, 4461 words)
Very succinct and perfect with it time travel what if. Old Ben Kenobi goes back in time and immediately ruins Palpatine's day.
This author tends to be delightful no matter the fandom.
The Sun Swings East - kj_feybarn (Complete, 33,000 words)
Brilliantly done timeloop story of woe and hope. As much about recovery as the initial plot-driven despair. Mind the tags, Obi-Wan is understandably severely depressed throughout much of this fic.
The Making of Mavericks - AppoApples (complete, 146,000 words)
It was extremely difficult to choose just the one time travel fic from this author. Their output is wonderfully varied, don't like their particular take on the Jedi Order and/or the Mandalorians in this fic? Pick another, and odds are they'll have explored the concept from precisely the opposite angle.
This author has a wonderful exploratory sense of, okay okay, so how do we fix this thing/how do we make it worse?
In this case, Obi-Wan, Ahsoka, Cody, and Rex time travel to the past. This creates broad sweeping changes to the timeline, not always for the better.
The Desert Storm (complete, 1,144,599 words) & Rise and Fall series (WIP, 396,000 words) - Blue_Sunshine (WIP)
Wonderful epic-length time-travel fic. Highly recommended. Technically a WIP, but what there is already is well worth the time.
Ben Kenobi, now Nasaade, in utter furious despair finds himself back in time, pre, well, everything. He decides to take matters into his own hands and change things.
Gorgeous character-work, where by the end of the piece the characters are all in very different places than where they started out. And you utterly believe the growth (positive and negative) that got them there.
Draws from both legends and canon in a bit of a hodgepodge approach - despite drawing from a few of the more leaning towards the jedi were the bad guys sources in legends, impressively manages to tread a nuanced stance on, okay so what if the jedi and mandalorians did decide to start reforming in the face of this grave existential threat that's been brought to their attention?
Wonderful utterly enviable pacing - I know this one's extremely long. But at no point do you ever feel/notice the length when reading this thing.
It Was Another Time and I Another Man - Pell_Binterhol (WIP, 196,000 words)
Multiple Kenobis time travelling. Absolute chaos for absolutely everyone else; fellow time travellers, fellow Kenobis, and plotting Sith alike.
the massive machinery of hope - Killbothtwins (Complete, 150,000 words)
Obi-Wan travels back to his padawan days and annoys everyone else into helping him save the day. Wonderful sense of wry humour throughout this fic.
Living Memory - elsa3beth (WIP, 363,000 words)
Epic very detailed wonderful fic detailing just what General Kenobi would do if he had to fight the war again.
Deals with just what could happen if Anakin had ever had to face his fellow jedi with even a few of his flaws laid bare, and the fallout.
Meanwhile, Obi-Wan, just barely managing to hold himself together, fresh out of the middle of his exile to Tatooine, is desperately playing four-dimensional chess against Palpatine and trying to use the awful structure of the Republic's Army to save both the Jedi and the Clones.
The 212th Attack Battalion's Guide to Saving the Galaxy by Accident - antigrav_vector & quarra (WIP, 783,000 words)
Long, character driven fic that's an incredibly fun take on just what might happen if Obi-Wan and a bunch of Ghost Company stumbled into Jaster Mereel's True Mandalorians and get themselves adopted. Heed the tags wrt pairings!
All the complications that come from being an adult stuck as an apparent child ensue. From being squicked out about being a kid again, to having other people being concerned that a kid is behaving like an adult, to just... time travel complications, kidnapping, force esoterica, and fighting a small war.
Plenty of Jedi thoughtfully staring at this strange miniature jedi master, lots of Mandalorians being both stunned and horrified by these tiny soldiers, and Dooku/Sifo-Dyas being a surprisingly lovely central pairing.
Not Qui-Gon friendly in the least, and in this verse you can't help but feel he very much deserves it.
Suicidal Misunderstandings - nevertheless_turtle (WIP, 67,000 words)
Obi-Wan spends much of this fic convinced he's hallucinating and on a bad spice-trip. The trigger warning is very much in the name here.
That said, wonderful, often hilarious time travelling Obi-Wan fic, as the jedi desperately try to work out 1) what's wrong with Obi-Wan, and 2) how to stop Palpatine.
Re-Entry (Complete, 568,000 words) and Re-Entry Journey of the Whills (WIP, 889,000 words) - flamethrower
Fair warning, might turn into a deadlink fairly soon. The author's stuff is in the process of being transferred to another archive. Not a big deal (though fandom being a collective arse is, ffs), as with many older fics this one has moved home fairly often! (Squidgeworld.)
Wonderful absolute epic time travelling Obi-Wan Kenobi fic. Even if you're not a fan of the central Qui/Obi pairing it's written from a very believable perspective, of you can see precisely how these two adults got there, and an extremely enjoyable read with it.
Starts off as a fairly character-driven piece, as the plot slowly builds into something extremely ominous indeed, though once the plot momentum gets going ye gods it gets going.
Another case of technically a series that's a WIP, but every individual story that's up is complete and a satisfying individual whole.
Filled with all the things I love in a Star Wars fic, Obi-Wan getting to be awesome, force esoterica, Obi-Wan getting to be a little shit, plotty plot, the jedi getting to be nuanced and awesome, canon and fanon star wars lore all over the place, and plenty of action adventure and gorgeous character work.
I don't want to go into too much spoilery detail here, but suffice it to say this one is a classic in the fandom for a reason, and deservedly so.
Warning that the dark stuff in this fic can get dark, the level of whump Obi-Wan endures goes all the way up to extremely creepy Palpatine-torture on par with the Ventress/Sith-mask/Alpha-17 situation. It's never gratuitous with it, but in places this fic is explicit, at turns in both the fun porny way and the whump sense.
Star Wars crossovers and fusions:
Alas this section will be shorter than I'd like it to be - unlike a lot of other sci-fi fandoms Star Wars fandom seems to shy away from crossover fic by and large. There's both less of it, and what there is seems to get a hell of a lot less interaction than it would in a different fandom. Not guilt-tripping, again, I am very very guilty of failing to interact myself, just a weird, 'huh, where are all the crossovers?' thing I've noticed.
Rouge Handed - nevertheless_turtle (complete, 2190 words)
As the name hopefully implies this one's kinda sorta a Moulin Rouge crossover. Ish. In that it's firmly set wholly in the GFFA.
Delightful little crackfic.
The weeping stone - Gabriel4Sam (complete, 6965 words)
A wonderful crossover with The Mummy that somehow manages to thread the needle, hitting the humorous tone of those films perfectly whilst simultaneously making you feel very sad indeed for Obi-Wan.
A Star to Steer By - dogmatix, norcumi (first fic in the series is complete, second a WIP, 109,000 words)
Absolutely wonderful Stargate crossover/fusion - it somehow manages to be both a crossover and a fusion at once.
Largely told from Jack's POV, the Jedi are symbionts, with all the misunderstandings that would imply, given the SGC are much more used to dealing with malevolent parasitic Goa'uld than benevolent symbiosis.
Lost Jedi - Augusta Pembroke (complete)
A Velvet Goldmine crossover fic. Curt Wild meets Qui-Gon Jinn, and things get complicated. Qui/Curt with implied unfulfilled Qui/Obi feelings.
All the unhealthy messy relationship stuff the Velvet Goldmine tag and the age of the fic implies is probably present and correct here.
Qui-Gon ends trapped on the wrong side of the galaxy, he finds Curt who's force sensitive, and trains him to help him get back home to Obi-Wan... Things get messy.
Snow and Cinder - MrsHamill (explicit, complete, 16,000 words)
The pre-requisite wonderfully done Highlander/Methos crossover fic. Obi-Wan hangs out with the ROG for a while post-Naboo in a bid to get over a falling out with Qui-Gon Jinn and work through his own messy feelings on the matter. The main pairing is Qui/Obi as many older Master&Apprentice archive era fics are.
All you really need to know about Methos is he's very old, and very cynical. He's literally seen and done it all.
This one doesn't fall into the all too easy to fall into trap of having Methos, understandably an extremely old and cunning immortal being so much better at anything and everything than everyone else around him that it stops being fun and starts bashing the other-verse in the crossover, for which I'm extremely grateful. It's a difficult balance to tread and this author manages it wonderfully. (I say this from first-hand, I have tried and failed to airdrop this character into other sci-fi fandoms you'd think he'd work well in, fic-author perspective rather than as a crit of anyone else's work!)
Look at the publishing dates please.
A few of these fics pre-date Attack of the Clones. They were written in the 90s.
If I find out someone's been bashing an author for outdated terminology or characterisation or for not using the current 2022 language, or a character the fic pre-dates in a fic they've not looked at for over twenty years, or how they wrote the central pairing in the era when the punchline to every single joke in Hollywood was 'haha they're gay!' I... Well... I won't be writing another one of these rec lists. Which isn't much of a threat I realise, but please, be civil.
I could probably easily fill a couple more of these lists tbh, and get more specific with it genre-wise... But as a general, here's a few fics I remember fondly often. I can feel myself getting neurotically 'this has to be perfect' at this thing, so, this'll do for now.
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ryuichirou · 2 months
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you have a hc list for floyd in heat, but do you have any thoughts about JADE in heat??
Finally it’s Jade-in-heat time!
Just in case, here is the Floyd post: FloRid Floyd in heat hcs.
I thought I won’t have a lot to say about him, but ehhh turns out I have a lot to say about him lol As pretty much always, there are a couple of things I would rather draw than write into a hc list, but here are my thoughts. I hope you enjoy them, and thank you for waiting!
Jade is much better at keeping it together than Floyd, he doesn’t get as animalistic as Floyd in general. He knows how to distract himself and has more self-control in general, plus never forgets to take medications + uses some other soothing remedies. It’s not like he hates going in heat, he just has many other interesting things to focus on most of the times.
However, even Jade gets overwhelmed sometimes, and even though Jade is the working horse of the Octa-trio, Azul always excuses him (i.e. kicks him out of the Lounge) when he gets too horny. Horny Floyd is a liability, but horny Jade? Straight-up endangerment. So he usually tells Jade to either hide in his room until it gets better or live in the mountains for a couple of days lol Jade usually complies (begrudgingly). Jade also gets intensely hungry, so Azul doesn’t want him anywhere near their food… or himself.
Another comparison: when Floyd is in heat, his mood swings get more intense, he gets very clingy and aggressive at the same time, loses appetite and becomes very irritable; Jade is kind of worse. It’s not as obvious when you look at him, he acts the same, but the atmosphere around him gets heavier somehow…? He watches everyone, evaluating them as a potential mate, and sometimes smiles very creepily, as if he’s not just going to have sex with that person but also going to do something even more horrible to them. His sadistic side really shows whenever it gets to that point.
Whenever his and Floyd’s heat happens at the same time, Jade is way more reckless about the whole thing and allows himself to be aggressive and assertive, to break things, to ruin clothes, to leave puddles of secretions everywhere, to grab people and be much more of a menace. And it’s not due to any biological reason; it’s just that people would always think that it’s Floyd who did it, and Floyd doesn’t always remember what he does, so sometimes he doesn’t even understand that Jade threw him under the bus.
Jade, as I’ve already said, isn’t as interested in sex, but he does have it in him sometimes. Sometimes he starts thinking about who would be the perfect candidate to have casual sex with to make things easier on himself, but then he just throws this thought process out of the window and approaches the first person he sees. This man loves chaos lol
Sometimes swimming also calms him down, so he hides in the school’s pool. And if some lonely soul goes near that pool, he might attack them. People always expect Floyd to be there, but surprisingly, out of the two it’s usually Jade who acts like his mermen ancestors.
There was one time when Jade almost jumped Riddle and even started undressing him, but stopped at the last moment. He apologised to Riddle and even brought him a basket of fruits and sweets as an apology and asked Riddle to please keep the whole thing a secret. And he looked so sorry when he said that (he wasn’t sorry at all)! Riddle agreed to never speak about this again, but now he always jumps whenever Jade approaches him quietly. Jade is very amused by that.
If he had to pick the perfect candidate, it’d probably be Idia, not only because he’s very cute when scared + is surprisingly kinky underneath his layers of anxiety and denial, but also because he knows that both Azul and Floyd like Idia a lot, so not only he gets to have sex with a cute boy, he’ll also get to look at these two get all jealous and angry at him. So whenever he does it with Idia (and it happened more than once, both times without Idia expecting this to happen), he leaves a lot of marks on him and takes pictures of Idia covered in all kind of wet slicky slimy mess…
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ganondoodle · 5 months
Text
since seeing a post from a mutual yesterday i was thinking about how grateful i am that i can now, confidently say something like -im taking demise away from nintendo- or -hes MY character now- while knowing that the people following me will understand that thats not actually possible and also i dont mean that literally literally (duh)
bc (while i have mentioned it in the past and im not trying to fish for sympathy with this, the memories ... and trauma really does come back every now and then) there were people once that imagined i said that about a popular character in the fandom i was in when i was a teen and proceeded to try (and nearly succeeding bc i was already struggeling alot with depression, anxiety and undiagnosed autism) to bully me into killing myself; perhaps it wasnt their actual goal, but the shit they did (alot of them were adults too), was absolutely insane, but i've only been able to see that wayyyy after the fact
like even if im remembering wrong and i did word it wrong or weird or in a way that was easily misunderstood, i was a teen, with english not as my first language and it still was some fandom shit that ultimately did not matter and never in any scenario warrented that level of harrassment, i dont even think i ever told my parents bc i thought i had to deal with it alone since i 'caused' it too and since then just ... wanting to forget it ever happened
while i am much, much better now, and slowly learning to manage my mental health struggles too, i do wonder just .. how much of how i am today was shaped by that horrible experience, like the way i overly try to pre-apologize and put doubts on every thought i write out, or the panic i feel when something does go outside my usual range (mostly twitter really ..) was immensely worsened by that .. among stuff i probably dont even realize
funnily enough, i made my account on tumblr to try and flee from all that was happening to me (even if they did stalk me at first .. even here) and hey, im still here :D
i guess what im trying to say is, i am very happy to still be here, i am grateful to be able to be myself, even with its downsides, even with my problems, even if the things i do are passable at best, even if i will never "make it big", even if i am annoying at times, even if i do mistakes still, even if i am .... horribly bad at replying to the awesome people that message me-
there are, at least a few people, who enjoy, or even care, or heck, even think about what i draw and write, which is .. still mind boggling to me and i might never be able to truly believe its all real, there are people who are able to see beyond my flaws, forgive me if i do missstep or overreact, and just be aware that even with everything i share about me, there is lots you dont know that may inform why i feel a certain way about something, but thats okay, i am human, i am here, there are people who enjoy my brainworms, and perhaps even think i, as a person, am nice
i am so grateful for that
some things are good
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multifandomenjoyerr · 10 months
Note
Hi hi! Love your writing! Can I request headcanons of cg hobie brown? I think he'd be so fun! There needs to be more spidervere agere
‹ 🎸 › Hobie Brown As a Caregiver
🎀 : As much as I don't like to post after I already posted recently, I couldn't pass a hobie headcanon. Thank you for asking anon! Hope you enjoy :] ✨
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🎸 : unlike Miles and Pravitr he's completely a rebellious caregiver. Bedtimes? Nah, rules? Not unless you really need them, and he encourages you to get in a little of his shenanigans here and there
🎸 : he often gets his ear torn off by the others about how he takes care of you
🧸 : he has a hard time directly comforting when you need it. He's not around it alot and since you're in a vulnerable state he has to find his own ways to help you
🧸 : even if it's just a pat on the shoulder or telling you you're fine
☕ : He's not the one to use petnames. At first he didn't use them at all or kept forgetting, but slowly began calling you them now and again
☕ : punk/bugger/kid/rebellion/little dude is his usual petnames for you
☕ : he's not that affectionate either, though that doesn't mean he doesn't like a good cuddle or hug sometimes. In fact he finds it comforting, but he won't admit it
🎸 : out of all the spider people, he is the most active when it came taking you places and getting you out of the house. Pravitr loves Taking you places like parks, sure. But what about carnivals, pools, hiking and concerts? Hobie is your guy for that stuff
🎸 : "Hey, little dude, how about instead of sleeping we skip to go to a concert? I heard they're selling cotton candy!~"
☕ : he might've snuck you out of the house several times during his times of taking care of you— even if he gets an earful from Miguel or Gwen the most at the end
🎸 : if he upsets you in any way, he'd just write letters to you and give them to you full of apologies. Usually containing: horrible drawings (don't worry he tried his best), him writing sentences on sentences of him being sorry, and just sappy things
🎸 : he apologizes like you're about to bite him for it
☕ : "They asked for no pickles.."
🎸 : he'll never admit it, but he can get jealous whenever you're being babysat with someone else that isn't him. like.. so jealous he'd tear up
🎸 : don't worry though, a simple hug or you just being yourself around him makes him feel instantly better
☕ : "back off, man, they're just a kid."
🎸 : not overprotective but protective enough to tell others to back off if you're overwhelmed. If Miguel expects you to do a heavy job Hobie will do it instead instantly.. maybe scold Miguel a bit in the process
🧸 : If you happen to fall asleep that isn't in your bed, he'd carry you "bridal pose" or pick you up by your armpits and make sure you're covered up and comfortable in your room. Don't worry he'll let you have your sleep. Afterall a little one like you needs it
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‹ 🎸 › Mini fic of CG!Hobie — "You're too little for that"
🧸 : for all little ages! This is just hobie babying you
hobie studied you from across the room, seeing you quietly make cupcakes for the others. No special occasion but you thought it would be nice thing to do Afterall. Lately you've been secretly Regressing, feeling bad for it you kept it to yourself. Hobie started to catch on but you'd quickly denied it or do something that made him forget about your behavior change. It worked for a few days but hobie knew you a bit too well. He's been your caregiver for about two months so there wasn't going around it. Not now or anytime soon. Before you know it you slipped completely. you try to grasp the little parts you have left to stay big, but it was too late. Hobie raised an eyebrow, catching on what happened. Even though in your regressed state, you continue to make the cupcakes. You weren't even half done.. and this was harder than it looked. You grabbed the ingredients and put it inside the blender, about to turn it on before a soft hand cupped yours, stopping you in your tracks. You looked up to see Hobie, who had a curious look on his face. It was almost unreadable but you can tell he was more confused than anything.. maybe just his neutral expression? He just tilted his head at you before he let out a soft chuckle. "Hey, hey how.. c'mon, kid.. you aren't getting past me with that 'oh I'm a big kid' bullcrap.. you're too little to bake by yourself. Here, let me help you..”
🎀 : SUGGESTIONS ALWAYS OPEN FOR ANY FANDOM! +mini fics like this are now open! So suggest that if you'd like ✨
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streamafterlaughter · 24 days
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Fundamental Differing
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nav | chapter XXI | masterlist | playlist | pin board
Chapter XXII: Blood Sugar Sex Magik
tags/warnings (spoilers below the cut!): MDNI 18+ ONLY! angst, drama, confession, tension, ALL YOUR FAVORITES! rockstar!eddie x rockstar!reader, afab!gnc!reader, mentions of reader being bisexual. dual pov
a/n: buckle up people it’s a doozy. i think you’ll like it though.
cw: unprotected p in v, oral (afab receiving), graphic content not meant for people under 18. MDNI, NSFW.
a/n: haha. hey. hi guys. sorry for all that waiting… i hope it was worth it. This chapter is a little different, no prologue flashback, one scene instead of multiple. Decided this deserved its own chapter. a nice lil mindless sex scene for your reading pleasure. thanks SO SO MUCH for reading, and for your patience!
Disclaimer: i do not give permission to repost my work, please let me know if you see my writing posted anywhere else. reblogs welcome and encouraged to support the author!
Your POV
Shit. Shit, shit, shit. You were drunk, but not too drunk to forget what you’d said last night.
The sunlight streams through the blinds, giving the room an orange glow. It’s early, but the bed next to you is empty. Understandably. Shit! You sit up, groaning as the movement makes your head throb. You’re in your underwear, and the shirt you’d worn to the bar last night. You can feel the underwire of your bra digging into your flesh. There was absolutely no reason to go that crazy last night, not if this is the aftermath.
As you’re gaining the courage to stand, the door swings open, and you catch Eddie’s eyes for a millisecond before he looks to the floor, face beet red, breakfast burrito clenched in his grip.
“Sorry, shit, I thought you would have left by now.” Eddie tries to leave the room, but you stop him before you know what you’re doing.
“Wait! Wait,” He stops, slowly stepping back into the room. “Eddie, I am so sorry.” You blurt the words out before you can chicken out. “That was so unfair to you. I was so wasted and I was celebrating, and I wanted to tell you about it but I-”
“Y/n,” Eddie’s voice is calm, firm. “Slow down.”
You take a deep breath, centering yourself. Your head has stopped spinning since Eddie’s appearance in front of you, but you try not to make too much of that. He’s dressed in his usual attire, a pair of black ripped jeans, beat up sneakers, and a well worn band t-shirt. Today’s choice just so happens to be the homemade, one of a kind Death Dance Approximately shirt you’d given to Eddie a lifetime ago. He’s since cropped it right above his navel, exposing his midriff, including a tattoo you’d forgotten existed: Your initials on his hip bone.
Shit!
“Okay,” You start, unsure of how you’re gonna dig yourself out of this one.”I want to apologize.”
Eddie’s face contorts, confusion carved into his features. He leans against the wall, still so far away from you.
“What for?”
You gesture loosely to the air. “Well, you know, everything. Last night.”
“Everything, huh?” If you didn’t know any better, you’d think he sounds hurt.
“It wasn’t fair. I was drunk, I shouldn’t have barged in here, put you in that position.” You trip over yourself, feeling your throat tighten. Do not fucking cry right now.
“Well,” Eddie draws the word out slowly as he pushes off the wall and towards you. “I can only accept that apology under a certain condition.” He looms over where you sit on the edge of the bed, surrounding you. He smells freshly like cigarettes and mint, clouding your brain as he fills your senses.
“And what would that condition be?” You try to sound unbothered, but your words come out meek, nervous.
“If you mean it or not.”
You gape at him, unblinking, waiting for him to crack, to say “Nah, I'm just kiddin’! We don’t have to get into this right now!” But he doesn’t. He takes another bite of his breakfast instead before tossing it on the dresser, completely unfazed by your silence.
“Do I mean that I'm sorry?” You’re playing very, very dumb right now.
Eddie isn’t willing to drop it, though. “Sweetheart, c’mon. We’re adults. I thought we were over this tiptoeing shit.” He cocks his head to the side, eyes rolling.
“I-” You huff, flustered with the way his neck flexes.. “Look. I didn’t want it to happen like that.” You look at him, determined to get through this without actually admitting anything. “I didn’t mean to say it.”
“Why not?” Eddie shrugs, like this is no big fucking deal.
Eddie’s POV
He really hopes you can’t tell he’s sweating. He can feel his heart in his throat, choking him with every breath. He keeps his eyes on you to focus. He can’t let you go again. Not after those words have left your mouth.
“Why not?!” You shake your head at him, frustration practically bursting out of your ears. Good, he thinks, you deserve to squirm a little. “How about, because this is what happened the first time? We moved too fast, we didn’t think, and look how that ended up! Or, how about, you’re supposed to be getting well, and the last fucking thing you need is me distracting you. Or, because if this doesn’t go well, we still have another month on the road together! And the fans, what are they gonna say when-”
“Stop.” Eddie shakes his head, kneeling on the floor in front of you. He should be pissed, but he can’t bring himself to be even a little upset. He has the upperhand now, and all he wants is to hear you say it again. Sober, this time. “Please, just tell me if you mean it.”
Your POV
I should lie to him. It’s not a good idea to tell him, not right now. You could take it back, this is your chance to make everything go back to that uncomfortable, tension riddled “normal” you’ve become so used to with Eddie. Things would be so much easier if you could just lie to him. But the way he’s looking at you, with a hopeful discretion, chocolate eyes wet with unfallen tears. makes every rational thought slide out of your brain, only leaving room for the way he’s pleading with you, wordlessly, as his hands grip yours tightly, hopefully.
“I mean it. Of course I fucking mean it, Eddie.” You barely get the words out before he’s climbing on top of you, hands letting go of yours to find purchase on the mattress either side of you, and you let yours fly to his hair, tangling your fingers through it like it’s second nature. You are quickly overwhelmed by him, your space completely infiltrated. The walls you’d been reinforcing to keep him out now crumble without a second thought, and he’s the one behind the wrecking ball.
“Thank fucking god.” He mumbles against your lips, and you smile into the kiss as he lays you down on the mattress.
“Eddie, wait,” You come to your senses, one final time as his mouth detaches from yours. “Are you sure this is what you want?”
Eddie has moved his mouth to your jaw, and you feel him chuckle against your skin as he kisses down your throat. “Even after all these years, you still doubt that I want this? That I want you?” You can feel his hand slide up your shirt, his skin lighting yours on fire. “You are all I want. All I could ever want. In fact,” He pulls himself away from your neck to look at your face. He’s serious suddenly, all traces of sweet teasing gone. “I should be the one asking if you want this.” He moves to get off of you, but you wrap your legs around his waist, holding him down. You’re tired of pretending not to want him, of avoiding how you feel because it’s easier. “I do. I really, really do.”
Eddie groans as you pull him back to your lips, letting the kiss say everything you’ve wanted to this whole tour. You hold his face in your hands, afraid he’ll disappear if you let go. His hand finds your skin again, sliding up your back to where your bra is still clasped. You’re nodding before he can even get the question out, and you feel the relief as he unhooks the fabric. He tugs your shirt off swiftly, and you let the straps of your bra slide down your shoulders.
Eddie’s POV
He separates from you then, getting up to kneel in front of where you lay on the bed, mostly exposed, save for your modest pair of black cotton panties. “Fuck,” The word comes out in a heavy breath as he takes in the sight before him. Your torso is littered with tattoos he’s never seen before, including one nestled between your tits. And speaking of, he can’t help but let his eyes land on your chest, admiring how your nipples have pebbled even before he’s really touched you.
“Still beautiful as ever.” He’s mostly talking to himself, but you smile up at him, eyes crinkling around the edges, and he feels his dick throb in his too-tight pants.
“I can’t be the only one exposed here!” You exclaim through giggles, and he obliges without argument, yanking his shirt over his head before moving back towards you.
Your POV
He’s been shirtless in front of you a few times over the past month, but not in this context. You watch, delighted as his abdomen tightens when you run your fingers down his stomach, along his happy trail to the waistband of his pants. You rake your fingernails over his skin, trace the new ink you hadn’t yet seen up close, listening to his breath hitch when you unbutton his jeans. Before you can yank his pants down, though, Eddie grips your hand in his, moving it back to the mattress. “We’ll get to that. Let me taste you first.” If you weren’t so eager, the words would have knocked you out, but you nod again as Eddie climbs clumsily off the bed to kneel back on the floor. He takes hold of your ankles, swiftly pulling you to the end of the mattress. You feel those pesky bats in your stomach for the first time in what feels like forever, heat rushing to your face as Eddie moves further in between your legs.
He’s in no rush as he moves up your body, lingering to place soft kisses in the crevices of your knees, the plush of your thighs, the peaks of your hips. He ghosts over your clothed heat, nose grazing your mound as he watches you writhe and plead above him. He’s amused by your eagerness, you know him well enough, but you can’t bring yourself to care. You want him, need him, and you’re tired of pretending you don’t.
Eddie is about to yank your last shred of clothing from your body when there’s a knock on the door.
Eddie’s POV
You have got to be fucking kidding. “What?!” He shouts, irritated, relaxing only slightly when he feels you giggling underneath him.
“Have you seen Y/n?” It’s Steve, taking his morning roll call. Eddie looks to you for the answer, but you only shrug, face getting redder by the second.
He moves to get off of you, but you follow him like attracting magnets, attaching your lips to his neck as he tries to answer his friend, causing his words to get lost in the fog, only letting out a strangled “Uhh…”
“Ed?” Steve twists the doorknob, out of habit probably. You flinch, and he feels his heart crack. “Wha- yeah! Sorry, I'm a little busy right now!” He clenches his teeth to keep from moaning as you lick a stripe up the column of his throat.
“Busy? You wanna know busy?!” Eddie can picture Steve behind the door, leaning into the peephole, one hand on his hip the other gesturing wildly. As pretty as Steve may be, the image is killing Eddie’s hard-on right now.
You’re not about to let that happen, though. “Steve, go away.” A command. He shifts, dick twitching in his pants again like a fuckin’ teenager.
“I-,” Pause. “Y/n?”
“Yeah.”
Silence. Then the fading of his footsteps down the hall. Eddie wills himself to look at you again, and is rewarded with your shit eating grin. “You are such a brat.” He scoffs, no actual effort behind the insult.
You have the gall to pout at him, like you’re an innocent bystander.
“Does this mean you don’t want to fuck me anymore?”
He gapes at your question, blinking rapidly as he digests it.
Your POV
You’d meant it to lighten the mood, but you’ve caught him off guard. Instead of his answer, you’re greeted with another interruption beyond the door. “Hey, love birds! Steve sent me over here because it is far too awkward for him to talk to you in this position, but I, frankly, am happy to relay the information.” While Robin is talking at you, Eddie is making his way closer, lowering to the floor while you bite back laughter at the mess you've gotten yourself into.
”We check out in two hours. If you plan to live out your honeymoon a little longer, it will be on your own dime!” Eddie kisses up your leg, grazing your skin with his nose, sending chills up your spine. Robin is seemingly unaware of your state, or she genuinely does not care. “We’re all going out for dinner tonight before everyone goes home, and both of you better not skip it to cuddle up in bed, you can do that for as long as you want, starting tomorrow. Also,” Eddie’s yanking at your waistband, his body shaking with giggles that you echo despite the knot in your stomach tightening with his touch. “Why are you laughing? What are you guys even doing in there? I know you’re not still asleep.”
”Robin!” Eddie calls, voice strained against his laughter. “I’m trying to eat!”
You drop your jaw, sending a backhanded slap to his shoulder.
”Did you guys get room service? Got any extra-,”
You cut her off with an involuntary moan, caused by Eddie slipping a finger past the damp cotton barricade of your underwear to slide teasingly between your folds. You smack a hand over your mouth, but it’s too late. There’s no way she didn’t hear that.
“Are you okay in th-“ It clicks. Finally. “Oh my god. Oh my god! Are you guys fucking?!” No regard for her fellow guests, or her best friend, Robin is cackling on the other side of the door. You’re in crisis, and she’s laughing!
”We’re trying!” You shriek back, feeling the frustration build as Eddie’s finger circles around your clit, causing you to grind against his hand.
“Oh my god. Wait. Is this first time?! Am I interrupting? Holy shit, I am so sorry-“
”Robin!” Eddie shouts again, this time sternly, losing his patience.
“Yeah?”
”Leave.”
”Yup, yup. See ya!” And finally, the fading of her footsteps, scurrying down the hall.
Eddie turns his face back to your center, littering kisses on your thigh as he wiggles your underwear away from your body.
You can’t help but get in one last dig. “You think she’s going to tell Gareth?”
His smile drops from his face completely, jaw tightly clenched. “I have no problem ignoring him yelling at me on the other side of that door. I think at this point he knows I don’t listen to him. And, he’d probably be relieved to find out I grew a pair.”
You scoff, ready with a wise ass remark when he shuts you up with a slow, wet lick between your folds. He glides your panties the rest of the way down your legs, and you don’t miss him pocketing them before moving his hands back to your thighs.
“Fuck,” you whine, desperately clawing at the sheets as Eddie’s tongue latches to your clit, tracing eager patterns across the bud. You drop your head back to the mattress, willing your brain to turn off. Eddie groans into your pussy, rutting against the mattress as he slips a single ringed digit into your hole. You buck your hips, aching for more and blinded by how good it all feels, how familiar. You’d had your fair share of one night stands since leaving Eddie, enough to get used to the normalcy of bad sex. Now, you’re blinded by how Eddie reads your body, like you’re written in a language only he can understand.
His tongue moves in circles over your clit, fingers curling steadily inside of you. The sounds he causes you to make are wet and absolutely filthy, but you can’t bring yourself to feel any shame. It’s Eddie, after all. You can feel your desire ripple through you, the coil in your stomach tightening with each swipe of his tongue, every stroke of his finger. He doesn’t relent, keeping an agonizing pace while you grind your pussy against his face, desperate for release. In response to your begging, Eddie groans into your core, the vibrations sending a shock of pleasure up your spine, and your vision goes white.
“Eddie, I’m gonna, fuck I’m gonna come!” It doesn’t take you long to feel your resolve snap, sending your legs shaking on either side of Eddie’s head. He holds you in place, still lapping at your juices as he claws at your hips, a response to the desperate praise you sing for him, an unintelligible string of curses and his name through breathy sighs as you attempt to slow your heart down. Eddie only pulls away when you tap the top of his head lightly, signaling your overstimulation. He releases his mouth from your core with a wet pop, and you can see his lips and chin are shiny with your arousal.
“Good as you remember?” He hovers over you, teasing smirk on his swollen lips as you scoff, rolling your eyes.
“Even better, somehow.” You wrap your legs around his waist, pulling his body flush against yours. Your breathing is still ragged, heart still skipping around in your chest as he closes the gap between you, letting you taste yourself on his tongue. You take his distracted state as an opportunity, tightening your grip around him, flipping him onto the mattress, landing on top of him a little less gracefully than you’d have liked, causing Eddie to burst into laughter. You’re quick to shut him up, grinding your sensitive cunt over his clothed cock, feeling it kick up at the contact. “You wanna help me get these off?” You ask sweetly, toying with the button of his jeans.
Eddie’s POV
“Jesus Christ, sweetheart.” His head falls against the mass of pillows, head foggy with the heat between his legs. “Keep doin’ that and I won’t even get the tip in.” Eddie grips your hips harshly, willing you to be still. Touching you doesn’t help in centering himself, though.
“What a shame that would be,” You tease, unclasping his belt as you speak. “Guess I’ll have to move quickly.” Eddie gets the hint, tucking his thumbs into the waistband to assist in getting his stupidly tight jeans off. He’ll curse himself about it another time, though. Right now, he’s solely focused on you, yanking his pants and underwear from his body, and tossing them to the floor carelessly before straddling him again.
You’ve always been a tease, and even all of this time apart hasn’t changed that, Eddie notices. You move slowly, sliding the length of his cock between your wet folds, head lolled to the side as you close your eyes, as if focusing into the feeling between your body and his. Eddie bites back a groan as he watches your performance, awestruck by the closeness. You infiltrate his senses, and he wills himself not to close his eyes from the pleasure.
Finally, after what feels like eternity, his swollen tip catches on your entrance, jolting him into action. He takes his cock in his hand, preparing to line up to your center the way he must have hundreds of times before. Even after these years apart, the distance both emotionally and physically between you, it is a second nature to him. You’re about an inch away when he has a moment of clarity.
“Wait,”
You huff in complaint. “Seriously?”
“I don’t have a condom.”
Your POV
That has never stopped him before, and you can feel the panic in your throat as you ask the question. “Have you ben fucking other people?”
He stutters, “Well, I-”
“Wait. Don’t answer that. Did you wear one when you were fucking other people?”
“Of course.”
“Okay.”
“Okay?”
“Okay. I’m on the pill, you’re being safe.” You shrug. Nonchalant. Not desperate at all.
“What about you?”
“What about me?”
“When you fuck other people, do they… ?”
“I just said I’m on the pill.”
“Yeah, okay, but you don’t know who these guys are, what diseases-”
“Okay, Eddie, stop. First of all, how do you know what genetalia the people I’m fucking have?”
That shuts him up. “Yeah. Also, if you must know, I have made all the people with penises wear a rubber. Feel better?”
Eddie is silent, and you let your brain run with your panic again. The mood is dead, Eddie is over the spontaneous, passionate confession and he’s never going to speak to you again.
“Okay.” He shrugs, and before you can respond he grips your hips, guiding you down onto his cock as you roll your hips forward, taking him deeper. Without much effort, you take his entire length, reveling in the familiar stretch of your walls. He lets you set the pace at first, a vice grip on your hips as you gain your strength, bouncing on his cock as he bucks his hips into you. You feel him growing impatient though, his thrusts growing eager, hands migrating up to grab your tits. Though you would love to draw this out, make him beg you for it, you find you’re just as desperate, watching him beneath you, mouth slack and eyes glossy, a picture you’ve missed for so long.
He finally sits up, and you let him wrap an arm around your waist, flipping you onto the mattress. Effortlessly, Eddie gains control, lifting one of your legs to wrap around his waist, allowing him even deeper inside of you. The new sensation draws a guttural moan from you, unabashed and absolutely filthy.
“Fuck, I missed that sound,” Eddie speaks between grunts, seemingly hypnotized by the way his movements cause your boobs to bounce. He continues snapping his hips, prodding that spot deep inside, that only he’s ever been able to reach. “Thought about ‘em all the time. Couldn’t let myself forget those pretty noises.” All the while, you can’t form a single coherent thought, brain foggy from the heat, coil in your stomach tightening again. He looks so beautiful above you, curly bangs stuck to his face with perspiration, eyes blown out with desire.
Eddie babbles on, ever the talker. “Missed these beauties,” He holds himself up with one hand, the other squeezing your tit again teasingly, and you giggle. “And this pussy too, so much.” the same hand travels down, ghosting over your skin until he reaches between your bodies, rubbing sweet circles on your clit. “Best I ever had, only one I ever wanted. Takin’ me so well, sweetheart. You feel so fucking good.”
“I missed you too, Eddie. You make me feel so good.” It’s a whisper, all you really have the strength for. He’s panting, resting his sweaty forehead against your own as you breathe into each other’s mouths, and his smile widens with your admission. His rhythm stutters slightly, but he doesn’t relent. “Need you to say it again, baby. Wanna hear you tell me again.”
You don’t have to ask what he means. Through your haze, you can barely get the words out, but you muster enough from the way he’s looking at you. “I love you, Eddie.”
Eddie groans at your words, throwing his head into the crook of your neck, like he’s embarrassed by his sensitivity “Fuck, I love you too. I love you so much, y/n. So. Fucking. Much.” He punctuates each word with a thrust, bringing you to peak.
And he’s right behind you. “Where should I-” He lifts his head up, and he looks at you with wide, frightened eyes.
“Inside, Eddie, please come inside me.” Your breathing is ragged, legs twitching rapidly as you cry out, white knuckles gripping the mattress.
“Shit, baby, fuck!” Eddie keeps his pace until you can’t hold on, the tether finally snapping as your walls tighten around him. You throw your arms around Eddie’s shoulders, nails digging into his skin as his cock twitches. He comes with you, spilling inside of you as a shiver runs through his body. You bring your mouth to his, swallowing his whines as you both ride out your orgasms, skin sticking to skin with sweat and spit.
Reluctantly, Eddie slips himself out of you, causing you to whine at the loss. Before you can say anything, he’s rolling out of bed and into the bathroom.
Eddie’s POV
He needs a minute. Maybe an hour. Realistically he’s gonna need a month. Shit. Regret isn’t the right word. Ashamed, maybe, of his lack of resolve when the subject comes to you. He’s vulnerable, exposed. He tries to shake the intrusive voice from his brain yelling in his ear that he doesn’t deserve to be loved, especially not by you.
“Eds?” Your voice pulls him from his thoughts, and he takes a deep, heavy breath before returning to you with a wet cloth.
“Sorry, got a little lost.” He chuckles, suddenly unsure how to approach this. Post sex for Eddie lately had consisted of a brief wave and a paid cab at most. Something tells him that isn’t the correct approach this time.
“Where’d you go?” You tilt your head, lending your ear like nothing’s changed since yesterday.
Eddie shakes his head. He won’t let himself ruin this again. “Nowhere more important than here.” He slips the cloth between your legs, gently wiping your inner thighs as he speaks. “Just had to pinch myself a few times.”
When you smile at him, he forgets everything he’s supposed to be worried about. He can only smile back, briefly before he kisses you again. He makes a point to be gentle, to show you he means it. Nothing is more important than here, now, with you. When your hands lace into his hair again he can’t help but sigh, as if relieved to be in your arms again.
He can’t fully shake the tension, though, and you seem to sense that. “We’ll figure this out, okay? We can talk after dinner. Just float here with me a little longer.” Your soft hand caresses his stubbled cheek, tickling him slightly as he reads your features. There is so much love in your eyes, it causes his heart to race.
Eddie nods, leaning his cheek further into your palm. You lean in again, kissing him gently as if sealing your word. He pulls you into his lap, holding you as closely as he physically can. You stay like that for awhile, before migrating to the balcony, lazily draped in t shirts as you smoke your cigarettes, enjoying each other’s presence. For now, Eddie can relax. Even for a few minutes, he is grateful for the silence.
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gurofushi · 10 months
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“i left love letters in your locker, don't forget to read them.”
꣑୧ saiki kuriko x fem! reader. (fluff)
warnings; none. <3
a/n; kusuo as a girl (kuriko) is actually so pretty oml i HAD to write something about her :<
(apologies for any grammar mistakes, english is not my first language^^)
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recess was about to end soon. you and your usual circle of friends were sitting at a table somewhere near the entrance of the cafeteria.
they were being loud as usual, but you didn't mind, they were your best friends after all.
though for some reason, you couldn't seem to focus on whatever topic they were shouting on about to eachother.
instead, your mind was being occupied by a pink haired friend of yours, one that was sitting right across from you on the table.
saiki kuriko, she was one of your closest friends and long time crush.
she was quiet, reserved and liked to be alone most of the time, but you'd always find yourself spending time with her quite often.
even though she doesn't really say much, she has always had this silent charm to her that has never failed to draw all of your attention to her.
despite all of your feelings towards her, you knew that you could never confess, you were too scared to cause you knew you could possibly put your current friendship into jeopardy.
‘i'm completely happy with staying friends with her.. right? yeah, i totally am. she doesn't have to know anything, i don't wanna lose her.’
well, too bad for you. kuriko could only raise her eyebrows as she heard your thoughts.
unbeknownst to you, kuriko felt the exact same way. only difference is, she had already planned on confessing her feelings to you.
her plan was already underway as of right now.
so far, she successfully wrote three long and heartfelt letters expressing her admiration and love for you.
that was a lie. each letter only had ‘i like you.’ ‘you're very pretty.’ and ‘be my girlfriend.’ written on them. she tried her best.
she was able to teleport those letters into your locker, in exchange for some silly cat drawings you kept. (but don't worry, she made sure to remember to give them back to you.)
now, all she had to do was to tell you about the written confession she left so that you wouldn't miss them before you went home.
easy enough right?
wrong, seems like kuriko didn't think hard enough about that part.
there's no way she would actually *tell you* that she was confessing. that's absur–
ringgg!
the bell rung, signalling the students to go back to each of their classes.
each of you stood up from your seats and started to bid eachother goodbye before making your way out of the cafeteria.
“y/n, wait.”
kuriko held your wrist to prevent you from walking for a moment. you turned to look at her, and so did your other friends.
unfortunately, kuriko didn't notice that they did. her focus was completely on you.
“ah, yes?”
“i left love letters in your locker, don't forget to read them.”
she told you bluntly. you were stunned, unable to move as your mouth hung open.
after a moment of silence, you quickly regained your composure and nodded with slightly red cheeks.
“o-oh, i see. okay, kuriko. ill be sure to read them.”
kuriko only responded with a nod and slight smile before turning away and walking towards her next class.
she felt accomplished, all she had to do now was to wait for your response to her feelings, even though she already knew your answer, she wanted to hear it come out of your own mouth.
“woaah, y/n! didn't know our pal kuriko had the hots for ya! congratulations!”
she froze as her train of thought suddenly came to a halt.
others thoughts started to fill her brain as she slowly realized what she did.
she DID NOT just tell you that in front of all the others.. right?
‘im done for.’
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this was way too rushed than i intended it to be 😭 it's literally almost 1 in the morning and im just finishing this up.
i hope this was still readable anyway, i promise that ill be posting better stuff soon! xoxo
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souriadraws · 9 months
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Thanks for sending me the text. So, it's the last time I am talking about Dokidokistart / Lia Marin on here or anywhere. For my own health they’ve been out of my existence and memory for + 1 year now. She makes me ill and depressed, and I am not saying that lightly I've been hospitalized two times in 2022, because I unjustifiably thought I was a horrible/ fake person and my body didn't react well. I will say "their" for the different art accounts they have but apologies in advance if specific pronouns were needed :/
So:
This is the meanest, ugliest and filed with hate message so far - and of course I'll reply to it. And I am the obsessed one? SURE. I've been sick for a year after their emails and I won't let it slide. Art is not a competition nor should it be a 'fight' imo.
I admire a looot of artists, including theirs from the get go, and I still do - I am in a constant struggle to not let any interference or inspo (colors, shapes, style, composition etc!) drive the way I draw or imagine drawings, but like anyone out there, I do get automatically inspired by many artists I come across. I am not sorry for that, I feed myself with different artworks because I just love art and love to be inspired. I've said to them sorry if my art tends to lean toward their style since I've seen it, I've liked many comics/ anime artists and it's just not from theirs only (I mainly love Dan Mora and that’s been the main inspo from the beginning not theirs so, it’s funny really), it's a multitude of inspo I am proud of to build my style or artworks. All my drawings or sketches are my OWN, and I've been drawing F1 stuff since 2018 (and I didn't even know Lia at all back then?) What is this mascarade, if only I knew?? Will not waste my time with the lies - or the way they seem to take everything the wrong way somehow (and see evil in everything). When I am just trying to be the best version of myself as person and artist, and it comes with its struggles for sure, but know I am doing my best, always. For the art style inspo, isn't everything inspiration from our own empiric feelings to make our own stuff afterwards? The dokidokistart artstyle itself is inspired from Evangelion art and Yoshiyuki Sadamoto lines of work, and that's very cool, nothing wrong with that imo. So why can't I love artists and draw my very own stuff?? In the end, My style is unique and it’s me.
About the other arguments - I am not fake kind, this is just the real me, the education I am proud of and I am a work in progress, leave it or take it, it's ok but don't put ill attempts on my person, when there's none. For the stamps (I won't put our WhatsApp convo in there, I've shown you the stamps to try them and I've asked if it's ok to use it just on some letters (so its non commercial), with a 2 days delay bc yes I forget things; your reply was that it was ok for me to use it- why not come forward if it wasn't ok back then? The incomprehension is total when it comes to them and the way they're just not straight forward. I am not in everybody's head, I do not have ill intentions, if there's an issue, just let me know.
About the post and Lewis flag itself-- I've seen what misplaced jealousy can make you say or do but this is way too much. I've just made a flag because my dear father asked me to do one for the past 6 months, so I've made one with Big Cartel dropshipping option. This is my artwork, I drew it from scratch, what does it have to do with any of their work?? A Lewis pic I've like popped off and I've drawn it with a flag, nothing fancy , a very generic drawing - a simple Lewis portrait for a race flag - why make it wrong or big deal? Why ruin this moment, I didn't do anything harmful and this is MY DRAWING and composition. This is just sick. Didn't know they'd invented race flags or notebooks (cf all cool artists I follow do awesome products similar to them. I should be gatekeeping Keychains too because when I started doing them, Lia did some too, you think?) Well no. I let everyone strive and do their thing, as long as they’re happy and it's their drawings.
I will keep bettering myself as an artist, I will keep drawing on my terms and live my life surrounded by caring people who know that I am not just an @ you can punch whenever. Please Lia do the same and forget about me forever.
X
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manda-kat · 13 days
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Actually, I'm not finished.
A lot of people (especially in online friendships) who struggle with their mental health put an overwhelming amount of pressure on their friends, even if they've only been speaking for a few months.
It's always some kind of 'I have this issue, but I'm working on it, so don't worry' until you don't message them back quick enough and they send you a lecture about how you must hate them and they're a terrible person and if you don't want to talk, you should just go.
You stop being their friend and turn into their source of encouragement and validation. They post depracating things about themselves so you'll tell them they're wrong. Every day. Every conversation. Something needs your attention constantly. And I mean constantly. If you leave them on read for too long, they dissolve and you're messaging them for hours trying to talk them off the ledge.
And what can you do? They don't do this maliciously. Most of the time they have a legitimate condition and their reactions are fueled by things outside of their control. And you love them. They're your friend. You want to help, but you have no idea how.
You can't say anything. Even gentle boundaries cause them to spiral. 'I'm at work on these days, so I won't reply until I get home' is met with 'I'm so sorry, I'm a terrible and needy person. If you want to leave, just go ahead. I don't want you to feel pressured to reply. I'm a horrible friend.' Telling them that their reactions are genuinely upsetting is worse. They accuse you of not caring about their disorder and it doesn't take much for them to tell you how close they are to killing themselves. They never say it directly, but it feels like they're blaming you. You shouldn't have said anything. You apologize, comfort them, beg them to stay, talk for hours to keep them calm and tell yourself never to be honest again.
You can't talk to your friend. Most topics are taboo. You can't have any negative feedback and if you even use different puncuation than usual they begin to accuse you of hating them. They start urging you to be honest, saying they know you must be annoyed and angry at them. And honestly? At this point they're right. You feel like a monster. They're so vulnerable and in such a terrible spot and you've let them think you hate them. No matter how much you try to bend around them, they can sense that you left the friendship weeks ago.
Things boil over. Every conversation is them challenging you to leave. Daring you. Almost begging you. They test you at every chance. You wonder if they actually hate you and want you to go. They've stopped sending extra messages when you don't reply. You stop messaging first and hope they forget about you. Maybe they do. Time goes by and you realize you haven't spoken in several months.
Whenever you think of them, you don't remember the jokes or the songs you shared or the movies you gushed over together. You remember bending over backwards and struggling to say just the right thing all the time. Why don't you miss them? You're an awful friend. They were in so much pain. It was all your fault. You should have tried harder. They never said anything mean to you, only themselves. They had such a hard life. You wonder if they're doing any better now. You wonder if you had stayed maybe they would have gotten out of that rough patch and become your friend again. You wonder if they ever went through with all those threats...
I'm just begging anyone who reads this to think about it next time they're about to send a message that resembles one of my examples here. Don't send it. Take a walk. Draw a picture. Watch an episode of TV. Eat. Take a shower. Do something- anything. Then go back and ask yourself- do you really want to say that? If you already know you have the 'sabotages every relationship' disorder, then maybe ask yourself beforehand if a certain message might be self-sabotaging. Before sending messages, type them in your notes app and ask if they sound reasonable. Idk. All I know is some things can't be unsent.
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wrongcaitlyn · 11 days
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AHHHH I ALWAYS FEEL LIKE I SEND YOU TOO MANY ASKSMHFJGXJC BUT ANYWAYS- the greatest of luxuries takes place around 2018, right? Which is also coincidentally around the time tiktok got popular so just like hear me out-
Nico is a chronic tiktok user and definitely makes tiktok dances (he was supposed to use it for promotional purposes and it's not until Apollo asks him about it that he actually does)
Nico and Will are those tiktok friends, the kind that you see videos of and it just looks like they came straight out of a coming of age movie- same goes for whenever Leo is featured in Nico's tiktoks like they are so iconic
Apollo definitely gets tiktok for the shits and giggles, only to go accidentally viral constantly- like he could make one silly random tiktok of freaking alley cat he found and it'd get like 50 million likes 😭😭 (bros tiktok account consists of his children and their silly friends)
ANYWAYS HAVE A GOOD DAY 🫶🫶🫶🫶
NEVER APOLOGIZE FOR TOO MANY ASKS I LITERALLY LIVE FOR THEM LIKE YES PLEASE ASK ME A MILLIION QUESTIONS ABOUT THIS AU THAT CONSUMES MY ENTIRE LIFELKSDF
and you are RIGHT OHMYGODSKLJF i keep thinking of a way to incorporate it bc rn they're in 2019, but i'm like, ahgsdf how do i bring in tiktok, do i make it a whole convo or just casually mention it orrrr
i do have quite a few tiktok headcanons in relation to them but i LOVE your ideas they're so real😭
these are the hc's that i had before reading this but tbh might have to go back to the drawing board on some of them becauseee i mean
(also i deleted tiktok a while back bc it was too addictive so tbh i have no idea what's going on over there anymore... nor was i there in the early daysSDLKF)
nico already strays away from social media quite a bit, and i think over the music industry changed, it's def encouraged for artists to like promote their music there and stuff. BUT. he has a bit of an addictive personality (relatable) and so when he eventually downloads it (because he would resist for a very long time) would get hooked. except he rarely posts, instead, he's that verified celeb account that you find in the most random comment sections and he spams all his friends with vids. he definitely gets a lot of pet videos i feel like, like the cute dogs and cats and he would send a vid of like yk YK WHAT VIDS IM TALKING ABOUT like two cats snuggling with each other or smth and send it to will with 'us' i just KNOW he would bc it's incredibly sappy but doesnt require too much descriptionsfkljs
he probably has 235829348 drafts and he mostly posts random stuff that's completely unrelated to his music. like i bet there would be a few people (when he occasionally says something related to his job) who didn't even know he released music despite definitely having heard it
i didn't really envision him doing tiktok dances eXCEPT maybe they all stay in his drafts. bc i dont think his vids would really be focused on *him* because he's not a huge fan of being on camera, so it'd more just be like those rants where you can only see his forehead or random studio vids oR TRAVEL VIDS WHILE ON TOUR. he would def do those. there's def some people who think he's a travel influencer and then find out he's a grammy award winning artist and are like ??? NICO?? FROM TIKTOK???
but he isn't called a "tiktok artist" despite some people knowing him from tiktok because he literally ALWAYS forgets to promote his own music in his vids. his fans are promoting it in the comment sections to try and get the people who think he's a travel influencer to listen to him😭
but his posting schedule is so very sporatic like he'll post ten vids in a day and then nothing for a month. it's fully based on vibes and is completely chaotic, just like everything else he does
will, like any other social media platform, has a private account. (nico also has a private spam) so will is that person who tags people in the comments like all the time (whereas nico sends it more often just bc he doesnt wanna risk being on the wrong account accidentally)
he appears a LOT on leo and lou ellen and cecil's tiktoks (and nico's) and every other week there's a huge internet search to find out who this guy is on a new famous person's tiktok account and then someone will be like "it's just will solace again HOW THE FUCK DOES HE ALWAYS FIND THESE PEOPLE"
like when he randomly shows up in taylor swift's getting ready for her nyu graduation post. like he's definitely there for a brief second in just like the reflection of a window or something and everyone goes CRAZY
before realizing it's this cryptid guy again who seems to be surrounded by every famous person to exist
he definitely posts a lot on his private account though and often it'll just be him rambling about something he's learned in class or him documenting every time he sees a cute animal in public
eventually he'll be dared to make a public account and he decides "haha that's funny okay sure it's not like anyone will find me"
WRONG. this guy is allergic to being not-famous. he will never be allowed to be a normal guy. his first video goes completely viral. he posts once in a blue moon, usually documenting his friends being crazy and every single time he does, it gets like a million views with people in his comments being "how does he know them???"
but you are DEFINITELY right about his account always seeming like it comes out of a coming of age story
and there are most definitely thousands of shippers in every single comment section with literally every friend. so he tries to have at least two other people in every single video so that people can't ship him with just one other person. but it's unavoidable. esp when he comes out as bi, people are just shipping him with ANYONE who shows up on his account
he also does those screaming lipsync vids to whenever a song by one of his favorite songs comes out he's a huge fanboy
OH and he gets to show off his vinyls there. he loves doing that. he's got so many and vinyl tiktok admires it.
also in every single video there's at least one comment that says "you look like apollo the singer"
EVERY SINGLE ONE
leo's the most active on tiktok, as he is with every other social media
it's either him building something, him setting something on fire, him with his friends, him talking to the camera while walking down the street (you know the genre of tiktok)
he is very similar to will in the aspect of "HOW DOES HE KNOW THEM??" but he's been a bit more public than will so people will know him more
he doesn't go viral as often as will (despite posting 132532x as much) but when he DOES it goes VIRAL viral. like tens of millions of views. it still happens quite often and he has the highest follower count of the friendgroup
and he's also the most active in comment sections like he's in every comment section you can't escape him and he replies to like every single one on his vids, usually with very cryptic responses that leave you with more questions than you started with
he ALSO tags will and nico in a bunch of videos, but not in a private account. he doesn't have a private account. he just tags them (obviously, avoiding any romance-related / stuff that could out them, in which he would send it to them) in EVERYTHING
and that's also the highest chance you have of will (on his public account) commenting on a video bc he's mostly on his priv
he also (when him and jason eventually come out) makes a million couple tiktoks and does all the trends
most recurring character in his vids are piper (and shel) (and will and nico over the summer when they're not so far apart)
apollo runs the account for delphi records
i know i haven't shared much of this BUT most people 100% assume that it's run by some intern or something bc of how casual it is but it's actually just him
he loves comment sections and hyping up all of his artists
oh BTW leo and will and apollo do all the promotion for nico because of how much he forgets about it
it's very common for nico to be posting a random ass video and then the top comment is Delphi Records ✓ Check out Nico's latest single, ______!
he also EVENTUALLY gets a tiktok for himself
that is just entirely his kids
as he should
aside from leo, i think kayla and piper are most active on tiktok
piper knows all the inner fandom details from shel (who has an editing account 100% bc i have an editing account and im projecting onto her)
piper's vids are mostly with leo they're such an iconic duo
idk why but all i can think of when thinking about piper is that her feed is like momona tamada?? like that's the vibe we're going for here
and ofc she promotes charities and other important topics there too!!!
and if there's a wlw trend going around yk that piper and shel are going to be on that first thing, probably the top video under whatever audio it is
and KAYLA. GOD. KAYLA'S TIKTOK IS SOOO ICONIC i think she's second to leo with most followers
the lip sync videos for sure, also out of all of them i think she'd def do tiktok dances she'd slay them all
and then some of them are just trends or her in the archery range
somewhat similarly to will, she often gets comments that say "how does she know them??"
but like a good 30% of people watching the archery events of the olympics are there just because of her tiktokSDLFKJS
she also happens to go viral. all. the fucking. time. like i swear apollo's kids just HAVE to go viral all the time they can't escape it they're made for fame and it's likeee kayla does love it (will not so muchKSDF and austin has avoided this problem by just not downloading tiktok at all! except apollo's video of him performing has gone viral. oh well.)
so those are my hc's feel free to add on to these!!! i would love to hear what y'all think bc AHGSDFL writing about these characters' social media is one of my favvv things to do - thank you for the ask!!!! sorry for the lengthy rambleKSDJF
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brisquad-unit-4402 · 3 months
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hello i’ve got some thoughts and updates for this blog.
i’ve been on a bit of burnout for a while, including life outside of writing. naturally the termination has sped up that burnout. i’m exhausted and struggling to be graceful about it, but that’s to be expected. i’m not one to sit on my feelings even though i’ve lacked the energy to write. which really bites because that’s my number-one passion really.
however i’ve taken some time to relax by diverting my attention away from social media and niji streams. i’ve relearned an old hobby and splurged a little too much on a new one, and i kind of can’t believe how much i missed drawing on real paper with a real pen and pencil. and thank god the love and deepspace sponsorship wrapped up before the termination, because that game has me in not just a chokehold but like one of those umbilical cords from astral projection. the silver cord? that
i’ve been watching other vtubers lately as well. i’ve always considered adding holostars en to my list but hesitated because everything else on my blog was niji-related.
consider this confirmation that i will be adding holostars’ tempus hq, vanguard and armis, and first stage productions’ avallum to my list of characters i will write for. i admit i’m not as familiar with armis, but i’ll be paying closer attention in the near future as i branch out from strictly watching niji only.
(might also be adding idol corp’s e-sekai? maybe? i watch them once every few months and i haven’t seen pochi or yuko stream since they debuted 💀 no clue on their gen 2 either)
i’ll be overhauling my masterpost for organization soon. so apologies for the horrors about to come… to be clear i will not delete any of my writing so don’t worry!
i’m unsure how much niji i’ll write in the future. give me some time to think as the situation hopefully cools down. i appreciate your patience.
and who knows maybe i’ll write for non-vtuber fandoms too
i think it’s about time i clean my inbox out soon too. i‘ll answer what asks i can and delete the remaining ones. i’ve had a few requests sitting in my inbox for nearly a year now and i’ve recently realized how stressed i was over them and learned about some boundaries i didn’t know i had beforehand, among other things, so so it’s about time i face them head-on. i apologize if i never got to your request! please don’t take it personally if i don’t answer your request. but above all else thank you for being patient, understanding, and kind enough to send in a request. even though i tend to bite off more than i can chew i always get so happy whenever i see a notif in my inbox and i appreciate your time for a little unit 4402.
even though i’m not watching niji streams atm i’m hesitant to stop writing for them because, like, i keep thinking of this clip of doppio saying he feels like he’s allowed to buy healthy/organic food because of fan support and donations, and among other reasons... it’s very easy to make conclusions on people you only know through a screen and i just can’t bring myself to cut them out so abruptly, even if i’m a fan creator on a site none of them use.
idk when i’ll post next and it feels nice to say that. i usually try to post once every 2 weeks, but considering how i’m trying not to think about niji right now and am instead embracing other parts of my life, i dunno. it’s nice. this blog is a major source of joy for me and it feels like i’m preserving what makes it so special for me instead of turning it into a chore. hopefully with time and rest i’ll have a clearer idea of where to go from here.
that’s pretty much everything on my mind, i think? thank you for bearing with me and my yapping. i hope to return soon and that the next time you see me, my blog will be cleaner, more expansive, and with a fresh mindset. take care of yourselves and don’t get immersed in toxicity. don’t forget to do what you love 💛
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verbenaa · 25 days
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to eden | chapter two
𝓈𝓊𝓂𝓂𝒶𝓇𝓎: “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words are weak, spoken as her back arches. Astarion’s tongue licks flat against her skin once more, drinking up another line of blood that makes its way down her neck and towards her collarbone.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my dear.” Astarion places a small kiss against the marks, blood still leaking out of the wounds.
✧· · ─── ·✧· ─── · ·✧
𝓅𝒶𝒾𝓇𝒾𝓃𝑔: Astarion/Female!Tav 𝓇𝒶𝓉𝒾𝓃𝑔: M 𝓌𝑜𝓇𝒹 𝒸𝑜𝓊𝓃𝓉: 4,813k 𝓌𝒶𝓇𝓃𝒾𝓃𝑔𝓈: light angst, implied substance abuse, blood drinking, poor coping mechanisms, unresolved sexual tension
𝒶/𝓃: FINALLY posting chapter two of this story, and I apologize for how long it's taken for me to get to this point! But it is here now and ready to be read. Let me know if you liked it and tell me what you think! Thank you all for following me along on this journey!
ao3
masterlist
There isn’t enough room. 
Rin paces back and forth the span of her tent—three steps forward and three steps back—as she tries to calm herself. Her heart beats loud in her ears, the notes of it frantic within the confines of her chest as a leaded weight settles somewhere deep in her stomach, lungs constricting on every breath in and out as the walls seemingly close in.
All Rin can see is that little girl—Arabella, that was her name, wasn’t it?—laying there motionless on the ground, the life leaking from her small body with every passing second until it’s finally gone, spilled out of her like a cup overturned. 
It’s an image she doesn’t know if she will ever be able to escape from, one Rin will be cursed to see behind her eyelids every time they close. She’s far from a stranger to death, her own hands long soiled with such things in the name of survival, but it never makes it any easier. 
It all weighs too heavy on her soul, however patchwork it may be. She’s not made for such things. 
For this. 
Rin feels so far from anyone’s definition of a hero and certainly is no bleeding heart.
But she did not want that girl to die. 
And yet, in the end, it does not matter because Rin can still hear Arabella’s parents wailing cries, sobs wracking their bones and weakening their knees as they fall onto the well-worn stone, lost in their grief for a child no longer of this world. 
Their misery is like a depthless, gaping hole that lives somewhere in the back of her chest, the darkness of it threatening to eviscerate her very being as it grabs ahold of her ribs as if they were the bars of a cage.
A small piece of Rin’s heart breaks for them. She can’t truly relate, of course, she never quite had much of a family to begin with. But she can at the very least empathize with what it must feel like to see something so important—so wanted and loved— slip through fingers like grains of sand, unable to ever be truly held in hand again.
Her legs slow to a stop as she stands near one of the poles of her tent, leaning to rest her head on the rough wood as she braces her hands, trying desperately to take deep breaths and calm the rampant beating in her chest.
Arabella’s death, her parents mourning for a girl-shaped piece of their heart now lost, Halsin yet to be found deep within the goblin’s lair… 
It’s all just too much.
Rin wants to forget about it all, needs to forget, and wishes not for the first time that she had simply been a casualty of the Nautiloid instead of one chosen for some yet unknown reason.
There’s a familiar want pulsing through her body, an urge to push all of the thoughts and feelings out of her mind; and the sudden pull towards the cache of wine that promises relief sitting somewhere outside the tent is a draw she can’t ignore as she swivels mid-step to face the small flap of fabric separating her panicked mind from the outside world.  
With hurried feet Rin steps out into the fresh air of the night in a rush, flipping back the striped tent flap without care as she walks into the quiet of camp, any thoughts of stealth or poise discarded as she surveys the landscape around her in a desperate search for one of the many darkened glass bottles collected during their adventures.
The world is still at this hour, no one present but a lone figure sitting by the warmth of the fire, a head of white curls downturned towards something in his hands, his silhouette illuminated by the flickering gold of the fire.
Astarion.
Rin’s feet still as she stares at the place where he sits, eyes stuck on his form as Astarion’s back straightens; no doubt hearing her less than subtle entrance into the night.
She wants to retreat, desperately wishes she could return to her tent but she can’t. Not when she can still feel the staccato rhythm of her heart against her rib cage and the panic clawing up her throat aching to be free.
“And to what do I owe the pleasure of your company, little bard?” Astarion keeps his voice low, the words drifting over to where she stands behind him, not bothering to turn and look at her.
Her breath comes out of her in short little bursts, a hand coming to grasp at her tunic over her chest, gripping the fabric in between her fingers as she works to find something to say.
“I…couldn’t sleep.” She stands frozen to the dusty ground below, willing her voice to carry her usual casual composure. Instead it comes out just a shade too soft, a touch too unsure; a difference from her normal put-on confidence that Astarion no doubt notices. 
Astarion always paid attention despite attempts to pretend otherwise, quick eyes always looking and pointed ears always listening, ready to glean whatever knowledge he can to find something to exploit. It’s one of the things about Astarion that Rin understands, an aspect of him that she so easily sees in her own self.
There had been something different between them ever since that moment in the cave, a subtle something new gleaming in Astarion’s eyes when he looks her way that she has been thoroughly unable to solve the mystery of. She knows she is nothing more than a game to him though she’s still unsure of the rules, as though she was playing a game of chess set in his favor.
Astarion was still just as flippant and haughty as ever, but there was a distinctly unfamiliar note to it all. A new tolerance, perhaps, between companions that wasn’t nearly as unwelcome as Rin had thought it would be.
“Well, are you planning to stand there all night then?” Astarion lifts his head slowly, his words already affected with impatience that break her out of her thoughts.
Rin briefly considers retreating back to her tent without a word, but the promise of caging herself back inside her own mind is simply not an option. Rin’s eyes dart around, looking once more for the bottles she seeks before coming up unsuccessful.
On soft footfalls, she makes her way over to where the fire roars in front of Astarion, the warmth of the flames brushing against her cheeks as she nears him. She can still feel the quick beats of her heart, thumping away as she lets loose a shaky breath.
With a quick look at the log on which Astarion sits calm before the fire, she lowers herself down on the opposite side of him, only a breath of space between their bodies.
Neither speaks as Rin adjusts herself gingerly on the wood, raising a foot to rest against the roundness of the log as she rests her chin on the hard bones of her propped knee.
The crackles and pops of the fire fill the nighttime air, the heat emanating from the flames a small comfort as Rin stares into them, the reds and oranges and yellows blending together as its tendrils reach up towards the sky like flowers in search for the sun.
Astarion’s head lowers back down towards his hands, and Rin notices for the first time something white draped over his lap, a corner of it held in one hand as a tiny silver needle sits between the nimble fingers of the other. She shifts herself, cheek moving to press against her kneecap as she swivels her gaze to take in the sight of Astarion sewing, of all things, in its entirety. 
With tiny, delicate motions Astarion begins once more, weaving the needle in and out of the fabric—a shirt, she realizes—his hands mesmerizing in their efficiency. Rin may as well not be present for all the attention Astarion gives her, his focus solely on mending the shirt in his hands by the wavering light of the fire.
There’s a hypnotism to his hands at work, something strangely soothing about watching the movements of the needle move in and out, up and down, in a rhythm Astarion had no doubt perfected over his many, many years. 
“I didn’t mean for her to die.” Rin doesn’t intend to say the words that rush out faster than she can help them, said on an exhale that escapes her lips without her permission as she stares at Astarion’s hands and the firelight that dances over his pale skin.
“Well you probably should have tried a bit harder then, darling.” He doesn’t pause as he speaks, not deigning her even a passing glance as he continues his work with evenly places stitches moving in a clean line across the fabric. 
She expected such brusqueness from him, but it makes her flinch all the same, the line of her shoulders tensing as she squeezes her eyes shut, once more seeing the vision of Arabella’s lifeless eyes staring up into nothing as she lays dead.
“I don’t know what everyone sees in me that makes you all so willing to let me make the decisions. I’m not terribly good at it.” The words are weary as Rin says them, exhaustion dripping from every syllable.
“Frankly, my dear, I don’t know what they see in you either,” Astarion gives a long suffering sigh, eyes still downcast. “But our little cadre has decided on you as our fearless leader.” He spits the last two words out with derision, though Rin can’t say she disagrees with his sentiment as she sighs heavily in agreement.
“Has anyone ever told you, Astarion, that you have such a way with words?” Something about his outright honesty draws a small smile to her face, breaking up the tension in her body the smallest bit as she gives a humorless chuckle. 
Astarion was nothing if not predictable in his reactions, at the very least.
“One of my finer qualities, certainly.”
Silence fills in between them once more—though not as uncomfortable as it would have once been—the quiet roar of the fire and the soft whisper of fabric in Astarion’s hands the only sounds, silver needle still moving with practiced precision. 
With another deep breath Rin wills her body to let go and forget as she leans slightly forward to look beyond Astarion for any sort of alcohol. She’s far from picky and any promise of temporary delirium is as much a blessing as it is a curse. Anything would do in the end to numb her, to shove away the pain and anger and sadness from her mind and pretend as though it didn’t exist.
She spies nothing to her eternal discontent, settling her cheek back onto her knee with a scowl. 
The tightness in her chest remains, still a vice around her lungs as she breaths in the night air. It would be so easy to get up and retrieve a bottle of wine or brandy or ale, to drink until the thoughts and feelings and sensations dulled and she could no longer remember who she was or the many mistakes she had made; the same as she had done time and time again as a means to cope. 
But something keeps her sitting, a kernel of an idea that maybe she shouldn’t let what happened to Arabella be forgotten, the concept festering in her brain like a wound that refuses to stay stitched.
“I didn’t know you could sew, Astarion. How domestic of you.” Rin’s voice carries out into the air as she breaks the silence, another attempt at distraction from the thoughts clouding her mind.
“What can I say? I’m just full of surprises.” His eyebrows raise as he speaks, features ever expressive if unimpressed by her present conversational abilities.
“Indeed. And here I was thinking your only skills were murder and subterfuge.” Rin punctuates her words with a roll of her eyes, her exasperation towards him a blessedly normal feeling amidst the cascade of unease settled in her body.
“Speaking of subterfuge, you certainly have some quite nefarious skills for a bard, darling. Stealing, cheating, lying…why it’s almost enough to make me jealous.” Astarion gives Rin the barest of glances as he looks towards her, red eyes skating over her face for a brief moment before turning back to the shirt in his hands. “I’d almost think you know your way around a blade far better than that lyre of yours.”
“Well, I never said I was a very good bard, now did I? If you’re not careful, Astarion, I’ll have to take those words as a compliment.” 
“Far from it. I don’t give compliments, darling.” Astarion makes sure to send a stern glare in Rin’s direction, a teasing smile on her lips.
“Ah, yes. Of course. Silly me.” 
“So, the Elfsong was above your pay grade, then.” Rin decides to ignore the subtle jab in the words on the grounds of building camaraderie, settling instead on a small huff.
“Decidedly. Performing at the Blushing Mermaid would have been considered an honor,” Astarion looks her way again, disbelief written across his face. “There are quite a lot of bards out there, if you hadn’t noticed, so I decided to learn some more…practical skills. Turns out I’m not so terrible with a blade.”
“Well, aren’t you just so very pragmatic.” 
With a swift motion, Astarion draws his knife up from the other side of him, severing the needle from the thread with a slice. He ties off the remaining thread with a small knot, pulling the rest through the shirt until it firmly holds against the final stitch.
“One must have gold, unfortunately, to survive. Therefore, I learned other ways to make some that weren’t quite so…reliant, shall we say, on a good natured audience.” She shrugs as best she can in her position, a subtle movement of her shoulders as she continues. “I’ve taken on my share of work with The Guild over the years.”
“Not one for the circus, hm?” Rin swears she can hear a note of amusement in his tone as he speaks, his hands busy with pulling out a small, worn leather pouch and depositing the needle and leftover thread inside. 
“And be harassed by clowns day in and day out? I’d rather not. Besides, the wardrobe never suited me.”
That would have to be enough information to sustain him, she was neither in the mood nor drunk enough to delve too much deeper into her past. 
Not that there was terribly much to say, anyway. 
What worth was there in yet another story of a failing bard from the Lower City who—despite the good-natured attempts of her youth—was unable to sustain herself on her art; forced instead to take on feeble contracts and protection rackets to make a little gold to survive.
It was far from a unique beginning, at the very least. 
There’s comfort in the fact that Astarion knows, maybe better than any of them, the price of survival. He would be the last to judge her on any of the less than ethical moments in her past. 
Rin’s mind replays another conversation spoken by another campfire only days before, on the heels of a timely visit from a certain devil by the name of Raphael. 
A conversation of Astarion’s own past back in Baldur’s Gate and of another vampire—Cazador. 
Yet another tick to add to her somehow growing list of ways her perception of him continues to change and grow, a metamorphosis of its own. 
200 years of slavery and torture and of no freedom.
200 years of hunger.
The thought of his sanguine hunger brings her mind around to another set of circumstance between the two of them, one bound by blood. He hasn’t asked, but that doesn’t surprise her. Rin knew from the moment she offered in the first place he would never ask for her blood. 
Astarion had never seemed like someone who asked for much of anything, not if could steal it with sly fingers and quiet steps instead.
But he hadn’t tried to take it, either. Not like the first time, when he hovered over her sleeping form ready to bite into her neck.
This decision, at least, is a much easier one to make than the first time she found herself questioning it.
“You can feed on me, if you’d like.” Rin asks quietly from her place next to him.
A smirk alights Astarion’s features and the moment of easy exchange between them is gone, replaced instead by a hunger all too evident in his eyes.
“Why you sweet, generous thing,” Astarion’s lips curve up as he speaks, the little tilt of his head like that of a cat with a trapped mouse. “That’s an offer I simply can’t refuse.”
Astarion’s eyes flick downwards towards the line of Rin’s neck, the collar of her lightweight linen tunic falling open ever so slightly to expose the soft skin there. Pink spreads across her cheeks like watercolors at the heat of his gaze, his attention focused wholly on her ever fragile skin.
Rin averts her eyes from his face to fall onto the tendrils of the fire licking at the air, the pops and crackles of the flames low against the otherwise quiet of the late night air. The steady heat that emanates from the fire is like a balm against her skin as she moves to stand on slightly unsteady legs.
Rin keeps her gait easy, attempting to pull off her own version of Astarion’s unaffected grace as she takes several steps towards where he sits waiting, his face expectant as he watches her move and sets his mending to the side in a neatly folded pile.
“You’ll have to come closer than that, darling.” Astarion’s words fall over her like a caress, beckoning her to him, and with a breath Rin steels herself as she closes the last bit of distance between them.
She raises her brow as she stands in wait for further instructions, suddenly imbued with the tiniest bit of confidence, feeling a little more like her self once more as she stares Astarion down.
“Sit, you silly girl.” 
“Does this suit you, Saer?” Rin can’t help her tone as she shoots Astarion one last look before turning to face the fire, lowering herself to sit on the dirt in front of him as she crosses her legs and waits.
She moves her hair off one side, still in its messy plait from earlier, little tendrils escaping the braid like the smallest of leaves off a vine as he settles in behind her, the beat of her heart skipping ever so slightly at the sound of his knees crunching into the pebbled ground. Astarion’s presence looms behind her, the shift of his clothing too close in her ears as he makes to kneel.
She feels the lightest pressure of his hands on her shoulders, a sharp exhale of air escaping her lips as one of his hands skates its way up her neck to settle around her jaw, holding her chin between his thumb and forefinger as he moves her head the tiniest bit to the side, baring more of her neck to his waiting lips.
His fingers are cold where they rest against the bare skin along the line of her face in a touch that could almost be considered delicate were it not for the pressure of his fingers, the hand holding her face just a shade too tightly for it to be anything resembling affection.  
Astarion must be able to feel the rhythm of her heartbeat thrumming through her veins, the slightest bit of question skating through her body, though she does trust him not to kill her even if it’s against her best judgement. He’s every bit a predator as his grip tightens infinitesimally on her, no doubt able to see and smell the blood pulsing just underneath her skin. 
“Relax, darling. We’ve done this before.” Rin can feel the words brush against her skin as he speaks, lips hovering just above her neck as he looks for a place to feed, the warmth of his breath and the chill of both his lips and hands sending tiny goosebumps down her limbs.
Rin feels the sharp points of his fangs mere seconds before they pierce her skin, sinking into her flesh easily as she winces against the brief flash of pain, her mouth opening in a quiet gasp. It’s the same as before, ice striking against the column of her throat that turns to a hazy warmth as her blood leaves her body only be captured by his eager mouth.
A small noise escapes her throat at the first suck, lips parting on the sound as Astarion’s own move against her neck. The cold pain contrasts against the heat inside her, every movement of his mouth as he drinks her in both wonderful and awful in equal measure. 
Rin’s pulse thrums in time with his mouth as he drinks, the feeling of his plush lips against her neck intoxicating. The hand on her shoulder tightens, pulling her body closer to his own as he buries his head deeper into her neck. His silver curls are soft where they brush against her skin, the tips of the strands turning red as he drinks.
Blood drips down her back and chest, the thin rivulets of scarlet warm against the nighttime air that surrounds them. The tension in her limbs loosens with every drink taken of her essence, head swimming in the haze that begins to settle over her as the blood leaves her body.
The sensations of their bodies this close with his head at her neck, her blood rapidly draining into his mouth all send her mind reeling. Somewhere in the depths of her brain, she can feel her tadpole connecting with his own, a clouded bond forming between them, barely able to make out any coherent feeling or thought amidst a sea of exhilaration and hunger and a want of more working through his mind. 
Distantly, Rin notices her reactions slowing to a point of alarm though she finds it hard to summon up a reason to care, not when the movement of his lips on her skin feels far too good despite the tiny bits of pain interspersed in the strange bliss of it. 
But she does not want to die like this, not quite yet.
Drawing up her strength through slow and sleepy limbs, Rin finds the motivation to move her hand from where it rests to reach up instead, shaky fingers threading through the soft strands of Astarion’s hair against her neck.
“Enough.” A part of her rankles at the subdued sound of the word as it leaves her lips, the way it spills into the air like a lover’s sigh—soft and dreamy and sated. 
Her voice falls on empty ears, though, Astarion still drinking greedily from her neck with what feels like no plans to stop as he relishes the deep scarlet spilling from her veins. 
“I said enough, Astarion.” With one last effort to get his attention, the fingers threaded through his soft hair dig into and pull at the strands, her nails scratching lightly against his scalp.
It’s enough to make Astarion pause in his indulgence and come back to himself, a shiver working through his body at the sensation of her nails on his skin. 
“Terribly sorry, darling. I got a little carried away, didn’t I?” Astarion gives a low groan as he sucks at the punctures, the air around them rife with the metallic scent of blood. 
“Liar. You’re not sorry at all.” The feeling of his tongue on her neck sends a spike of heat straight to her pit of her stomach, her nipples brushing against the fabric of her tunic as she sucks in a breath.
“Takes one to know one, my dear,” Rin can feel his smirk against her neck, her little inhale not going unnoticed by Astarion as he gives another broad lick of his tongue. “Oh, you like this, don’t you?” He speaks without lifting his head from the skin of her neck, blood still leaking from the two small wounds there, his tongue absently collecting any stray droplets of blood that still fall.
Rin can hear an edge of arrogance as he speaks, the sound of it infuriating and grating despite her position in Astarion’s arms, body weightless as he supports her against him. 
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” The words are weak, spoken as her back arches. Astarion’s tongue licks flat against her skin once more, drinking up another line of blood that makes its way down her neck and towards her collarbone.
“Whatever helps you sleep at night, my dear.” Astarion places a small kiss against the marks, blood still leaking out of the wounds. 
Rin summons another burst of strength, the hand in his hair slipping out of his curls to grasp instead at his slick wrist before pulling it away sharply from where he holds her chin in his hand, her fingertips coming away bloody. 
Astarion lets her get away with it, the knowledge that he could overpower her with barely any effort not escaping her as she shakes his other hand off her shoulder.
Rin gets up hurriedly on unsteady feet, swaying as she stands and turns toward him, the heat emanating from the fire warm against her back as she looks down at him.
Astarion reclines back against the log, lazily licking at messy red lips, the dark cherry red of her blood glistening on his chin. His pupils are blown, chest heaving as hard as her own as their eyes meet, dazed emerald connecting with fervent crimson. 
They mirror each other in this moment; both of their collars stained red, drops of her blood running down each of their necks. Astarion has a look of pure euphoria on his face, the newfound power running through his veins far beyond that of what she knows to be capable of the living. 
“Don’t want to stay and play a little longer, sweet thing?” Astarion tilts his head to the side as he smiles wide, bringing a hand covered in blood up to his lips—the one that had been holding her face, she realizes—tongue peeking out to lick the digits clean.
“I’ll pass.” It’s a wonder Rin has any blood left to rush across her cheeks and down into her stomach, pink flush heating her skin as her head swims. There’s not nearly enough power behind her words as she takes one, two, three steps back from him, each one a near stumble.
“Suit yourself, little bard.” That infuriating grin stays in place as he watches her flee to the safety of her own tent, practically tripping over her own feet.
Rin doesn’t bother to say goodnight to him as she all but falls behind her striped tent flap and onto her bedroll. She wrangles with the bloodied tunic as it sticks to the blood coating her shoulder, pulling it up and over her head with a harsh yank, uncaring of the twinge of pain that emanates from her neck at the motion.
Finally free of it Rin buries her face into her hands, her attempts to take calming deep breaths failing as her chest heaves with the exertion. 
For fuck’s sake.
Her cheeks warm with embarrassment at the heat that has pooled in her lower belly, resisting the urge to press her thighs together to grant herself some modicum of relief.  
She settles instead for stripping off her pants and throwing them into a heap next to her as she lays down, pulling up the threadbare blanket and closing her eyes, hoping to drift off into a dreamless sleep.
Rin doesn’t know if its mere minutes or hours that she lays there awake, mind spinning, before she falls into a fitful rest, twisting and turning in her bedroll under the darkened sky above as the forgotten blood on her neck dries to a dull red, flaking and crusting against her skin.
She sees him in her dreams against her every wish, her subconscious instead conjuring images of Astarion’s phantom hands and lips along her naked body, ghostly fingertips dragging lines across the expanse of her skin as he drinks from her neck.
When Rin wakes from the dream—or was it a nightmare?—it’s with a beating heart and flushed cheeks, a terrible realization dawning upon her, rising up like a wave as it washes away any remaining chance of sleep.
She is absolutely and unequivocally fucked.
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blaxcunicorn · 1 year
Text
Goodbye
Synopsis : Eren and the reader saying their goodbyes
Length : 1.1k words
Content : fem!reader, spoilers, nsfw warning, minors do not interact. Oral sex (female recieving), kissing and a bit angst at the end
Authors note : Hi, this is my first ever fic and decided to dedicate to the ml. Hope you guys like it as I was very anxious about posting it. I also wanna apologize in advance for any language mistakes as English is not my first language. Hope you guys will give me feedback on how to improve my writing. Thank you🥰
You are lying in bed admiring the sunrise that is growing through the window. The colors makes you feel alive. You stroke his big hands while feeling his heavy breathing on your neck. Turning around and admiring the young man sleeping beside you. Eren and you met as three year olds in Shinganshina after his father treated your mother from an illness.
Since then the two of you have been inseparable. Losing your loved ones after the fall of the wall and the battles against the titans really took a toll on you and Eren has been very supportive through that period. However, he noticed that every day the glow in your eyes faded and your once wide smile that would light up a Room vanished. Regardless of that he never stopped loving you. "Dont you agree that it is a bit creepy starring at someone sleeping?", you feel your cheeks burn right as the sound of Eren’s raspy voice takes you back to reality.
"I was just reminiscing the past", Eren kisses your forehead and strokes your cheeks with his thumbs while looking at you with sad eyes "dont think about it too much love". Some guilt creeped upon you as you were the one who suggested to Eren that the two of you should run away from the war. To start a new life togheter, to forget the past and the war against Paradise. "Im sorry" you respond as you grip his wrist and lean into his left hand to feel his warmth. As you close your eyes your head starts aching and you starts seeing flashes of events. The Colossal Titans marching, Eren eating the War Hammer Titan and Levi being injured. You cannot really wrap around what those flashes are.
"Y/N,Y/N!" you hear as the flashy memories disappears. "Huh" you respond as you feel tears running down your cheeks. Eren wipes your tears with his thumbs and kisses your lips gently. The kiss turned passionate and greedy which makes you moan. Eren starts kissing your neck before gently pushing you down on your back. He then starts slowly roaming around your body and kisses every inch of your body and takes his time on your skin. Feeling it while his hands massage your inner thighs gently. You feel on fire and moan "Eren, Eren". He looks at you with love struck eyes and responds with "yes my love, how do you wish for me to pleasure you?", while reaching two fingers on your clit and draws circle on them.
"I-I want you to mmmh go down on me". He responds with a smile and reaches down to your inner thighs. Kissing around the inside of your legs and bites you near your lips. He runs his tongue on each side of your lips and his big hands goes around your legs to keep you comfy in place and rests his hands on your stomach. Eren then explores the entrance of your slit with his tongue to tease you more, hardening it against the side, not yet going for the clit. You moan "Eren please don’t tease me". He responds with giving you a quick kiss your lips as an apology, before licking from the bottoms of your slit to your clit slow and long. Before hardening his tongue on your clit to stimulate it with flicks but not too fast as it might be too sensitive. Then circling his lips around your clit to suck on it gently at first before each suck becomes harder, rougher and sloppier. He puts both his index and middle finger in your mouth before inserting them inside your slit. Pushing them in and out, your uncontrollable moans and the sound of Eren eating you out fills the room. He starts pacing and you are on cloud 9. You reaches down to his manbun and pulls his head closer, he starts breathing hard and moans which creates a big vibration. You are on the edge as you feel a familiar pleasure building up.
"Eren, I’m…ugh!" you moan as you roll your eyes and catch your breath. Eren pulls out his fingers and make you suck on them while starring into each others eyes. You are reaching down to Eren’s pants but stopped by his hands on your wrist. "It’s okay, today is about you" he rasply says while slowing pressing his forhead on yours and gently stroke his thumb on your palm. You close your eyes before more flashes shows up. "Y/N?" Eren says softly while you widely stare at him.
"We are not supposed to be here, right Eren?", he looks at you with broken eyes "I guess we don’t have much time left". You ask him with a shaken voice "b-but why did you take me here?" Eren hugs you and whispers in your ear "because you are one of the few people I’d like to say goodbye to before I die". You try to break out of the hug but Eren is too strong so you are just stuck there, with your head on his chest.
"Eren, why? Why all this?" you say as a burning feeling hits your eyes but you try to keep yourself composed. "I need to die so that you, Mikasa, Armin and the others can live long and happy lives". That made you finally break down in tears, your throat is on fire but you are still trying to talk. "P-p-please don’t…I-I don’t want you to leave me alone…please Eren! I love being with you, I love myself when I’m with you and I love who I become when we are togheter. I don’t know what I’ll do once you are gone.I beg you, isn’t it any other option?"
Eren is tearing up and responds with "Y/N, as much as I desire to be with you, be with all of you I can’t. This evil circle has to end and it will only end if I die. I do not wish for any of you to live in danger anymore. If I should hear that you died, my life as I know it, the me who is speaking with you now, will cease to exist." You sobe out "Eren I don’t want you to die!" He takes one hand and starts stroking your head. You look up to see his eyes and he responds with "I will never fully die, I will live on in you. Promise me one thing, that you’ll smile again" before kissing your lips gently but passionatly.
You close your eyes one last time before feeling wind blowing your face. "Goodbye Eren, thank you for everything" you whisper with a smile. "I know where he is, Captain Levi!"
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