#and its very hurtful to see how many people would rather tell me to be kinder to the people who broke the heart of a child me when they
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@alfiikae I have written it 😳 it is not the best because I got tired halfway through but decided I couldn’t not finish it. This is NOT my best work I don’t love this
This is very OOC for Arlecchino I think, but who cares? Not me
Sequel to the ask I received about childhood Arle and reader as friends!
Contents: crying, mention of self harm (not graphic, but mentioned and briefly talked about without naming it), just sadness
Word count: 3181
Under the cut!!
(Poor reader lmao, projecting all of my school experiences onto her 😓😓)
That day was stupid, you tell yourself. She hurt you, and you shouldn’t have let her back in. You still remember the humiliation of telling your mother that no, she couldn’t come for dinner because you were wrong, and she wasn’t your friend, and that the kids were right, you were weird and weird people deserve to be by themselves. You can still remember the pitying face your mother gave you as you shrunk off to your room to play with more rocks. The memory of you playing with those damn rocks fills your brain as you stare down at the textbook. Why are you so interested in rocks and stones? You don’t know, and part of you wishes you weren’t. You slam the book shut just as a knock on your door sounds out, and Arlecchino’s voice rings out.
“Are you here? You haven’t been answering my messages. I am confused.”
You try to stay silent because there’s no way in hell you want to answer the door right now. You’ve been avoiding her since that night, just like the way you’ve been avoiding everyone else. A vow made to yourself one day in freshman year of high school, avoid everyone like the plague.
“I can see your feet, can you please answer the door?”
A sigh, and your chair pushes back as you stand, walking reluctantly towards the door before you open it, poking your head out.
“What?”
“Can I come in?”
“I’m kind of busy.”
“You’ve been busy since-“
You cut her words short, your voice slightly distant, no trace of the warm child she once rejected.
“Yeah, well, I’m busy. Maybe another time, yeah?”
Your attempt to shut the door fails when her foot blocks the way, her face stern and her eyes dark with.. what is that? Worry? Guilt? Annoyance? You sigh, walking towards your desk again as you clutch the sleeves of your sweater to stop yourself from either crying in frustration or snapping at her.
“Why have you been ignoring me? We had sex, you can’t just ignore me like nothing happened.”
“You’re one to talk about being ignored, hm?”
“..touché. But the point stands.”
“Okay.”
Your head is in your textbook again as you try to grasp how to tell the age of rocks by the patterns inside. Your hand on your temple, attempting to block out the fact she’s stood right there, staring into you like she’s trying to analyse you.
“Damn it, what the hell is wrong? What is your problem?”
“You tell me.”
“I said and did one thing like ten years ago and you still haven’t let go of it! You have to move on. I’m trying to reconnect with you.”
“I’m a weirdo, remember? Why would I try to reconnect with someone who thinks I’m a weirdo? I’d rather hang out with my textbooks and rocks.”
Your voice is sharper than it usually is. You know from so many years of this that you have to toughen yourself up. You can’t let people treat you like this, you know that, but..
“That’s exactly the problem. All you care about is rocks, you never even tried to talk to people.”
Your head snaps around sharply in her direction, a glare on your once smiling face. Your tongue finds its way between your teeth as you take a breath. You can already feel the familiar stabbing pain in your chest.
“I have tried. You just didn’t care to pay attention. I care only about rocks because they’re the only things that won’t be horrible to me! Like you’re any better with your stupid insects.”
You hear a sharp breath being taken as her fists clench for a second. Your face is unreadable, but she can see you’re hurt. She feels guilty, but she’s so annoyed at the same time. She can’t figure you out the way she wants to, she can’t read you the way she can with other people. It’s like you’ve locked yourself away behind a wall that can’t be demolished.
“What the hell happened to you?”
“What? Are you asking me if I was dropped on the head as a baby?”
The words make Arlecchino stop. That was so specific, too specific to not have been said to you before. And your voice is so sharp, so distant. The guilt is beginning to form in a pit in her stomach, pulling her downwards into a sea of anger. Her eyes flick over you, noticing the thing she’s noticed constantly about you.
“No. I’m asking what happened. You were such a happy child and then one day you just weren’t. You were so social and then you stopped talking to anyone, and nobody said anything about it either.”
“Mhm.”
“And now you’re not you. I don’t like it.”
Your mind recalls everything. The day she ditched you seems like such a small thing, but it wasn’t. Not when you pair it with everything else that happened. It was just the icing on the cake. You still remember the feeling, what you turned to, the nights alone. Your vision blurs, but you blink rapidly, fighting the tears away. Arlecchino waits patiently, standing there as she stares at you, analysing your appearance, analysing everything she can about you like you’re one of her insects she plans to research. You’ve never spoken to anyone about this, and you never dreamed of doing it. Especially not to her. But the words beginning spilling out of your mouth in both anger and sorrow.
“Nobody liked me, so I changed. Being me was the wrong thing to do.”
“Wrong? No. People liked you.”
You scoff, raising an eyebrow in disbelief. You know that’s not true, people have told you that.
“Do not lie. Nobody liked me, and it isn’t like they made that painfully obvious.”
“What do you even mean by that? Is that why you..”
She gestures a hand to you, and you know what she means. It isn’t hard to know what she means. Your eyes narrow, and your tone becomes defensive.
“How do you-“
“I just know. I saw one time. You weren’t the best at hiding it, you know. And you didn’t take your sweater off when we had sex. It adds up.”
“Right.”
“You shouldn’t do that, you know. Why? What drove you to start with that? Because people didn’t like you?”
Your jaw tenses. You don’t even know what to say to that. Your hands clasp in front of you, bringing the sleeves of your sweater against your palms, an old childhood habit really, but you never really paid attention to it. You stare in silence for a while before your voice sounds out, quiet, almost sad.
“I don’t need a lecture.”
“Sorry.”
“You really don’t know?”
“No.”
“You don’t remember that the janitor had to lock the changing rooms after school hours because a girl got locked in there for the weekend?”
Arlecchino’s eyes widen for a second as she tries to recall that. She does, in fact, vaguely remember that someone was locked in the changing rooms for an entire weekend in freshman year, and was only found again on the Monday when they had gym class. She feels the pit in her stomach grow significantly.
“That was you?”
“Mhm.”
“What happened?”
“Do you even care?”
A pause, and then:
“I do.”
You begin explaining for the first time in your life, your voice thick and almost wavering. You stare straight ahead at the small amethyst geode next to your bed, refusing to make eye contact. And you explain everything, everything from first grade to now.
“People didn’t like me because they thought I was weird. They thought I was too interested in rocks and that they couldn’t talk to me because of that.”
“You are too interested in rocks.”
“You can go if you’re going to begin with that.”
“No, you’re right. Keep going.”
Your throat constricts. For some reason, all of your anger is towards her. In a sense, she was the catalyst for everything. Not that it’s inherently her fault, but you can’t get her words out of your head.
“I kept trying to make friends but it wasn’t working. They would always play with other girls, which was.. I don’t know, sad, but I could play with myself. Then they wanted to play with me all of a sudden, so we would play hide and seek. They would ask me to hide and they would find me, but they didn’t even try to find me. It was just a ploy to get me away from them. I didn’t get it. I remember thinking that I was a bit sad they never found me until I hid really close to them. I found out they weren’t actually trying to find me, they just talked about me. They called me weird for liking rocks and wanting to play with them.”
You pause, taking a shaky breath before you continue. Arlecchino’s stomach is completely filled with guilt now, because she can tell where this is going. She has the urge to reach out and grab your hand. To trace her fingers over your skin. She doesn’t.
“Then I met you. You tolerated me, at least. And I had never had a friend before. So I remember running home and talking about you to my mom. She was worried, you know. She knew I didn’t have any friends and she saw it made me sad. She was so excited for me and when we stayed friends for a bit— well, ‘friends’, she asked if you wanted to come for dinner. She said I could ask if you wanted to come. I was so happy and I had this whole idea that we were going to swing on the swings in the park and maybe go to the library you liked so much. It turns out you didn’t like me at all.”
Your fingers pick at your nails, and it’s clear that’s something you do often by the way your skin is red and peeling. It was the opposite of her not liking you. She did like you. So much so, that she realised that she was different from other people.
“Stop that.”
Her hand finally reaches over and grabs yours, stopping you from causing more damage to your skin. Her hand are a contrast from yours, her hands patterned and blackened, almost charred and long nails painted perfectly, with your hands being plain, blunt nails that are bitten down. Tears gather on your lashes now as you keep staring at the geode, one you got for your 15th birthday.
“I had to go home to my mom that day and see her excited face. I remember she asked me what you wanted to eat, what she should make and I.. damn it, it was so hard telling her you— yeah. Her face fell, she was so happy I had a friend, and now I didn’t. She asked if I was sad, I said no. I said I didn’t care. I said I knew I was weird anyway and the girls at school said weirdos can’t make friends so it all made sense. I heard her talking to my dad when she thought I was sleeping that night, she was so sad for me.”
“I didn’t mean for it to be so mean.”
“It doesn’t help now. That was just the start of everything.”
A singular tear finally drops from your eyelid, hitting your skin. Everything is running through your mind and it’s so overwhelming you can’t help but choke down a quiet sob. Arlecchino’s own eyes are tearing up, despite her best efforts to hide it. She feels like the guilt is eating her, that the shame of what she said is sucking her into a hole. Ashamed that she said and did all of those things only to fuck you years later like nothing happened. She doesn’t want to hear anymore. But she tells herself that she needs to.
“The other kids caught wind of what happened. “If the loner girl doesn’t want to be friends with her, why would anyone else?” I kept trying to join in conversations, I kept trying to make friends, but it never worked. I got weird looks and insults. I threw a party for my 15th birthday. I invited everyone. Even you. I think a part of me was desperate for someone to show up. I got everything ready at my house, I bought so much food and I had a cake. People said they were coming. They—“
Your words are cut off by a sob. This is the first time you’ve shown any type of emotion in front of someone in years, and you’re cursing yourself for it. And Arlecchino, she’s silent. She’s listening, and she’s so so sad for you. She knows it’s only getting worse because you haven’t even talked about the changing room incident yet.
“Nobody came. I went to bed at 1am after clearing everything away. The food sat in the fridge and I had to throw it away. I did something stupid that night. I wish I didn’t because it became a habit. But I was so sad. I didn’t understand why nobody came, so I asked people. They lied to me, they said they were coming but they didn’t. And then, one Friday, after gym, they hid my gym bag. I spent a while looking, and when I finally found it and tried to leave, they had locked me in there. They said they would let me out when I stopped being a weirdo, because weirdos deserve nothing, they don’t deserve friends. They left, and I was there all weekend until the janitor found me early on the Monday. I never spoke to anyone again.”
The shame Arlecchino feels right now is palpable. She herself is crying now, silently as she stares at the floor. She yells at herself in her head at everything she could have done, but didn’t. Her eyes flick to your upper body, covered by your sweater. It’s not an unusual sight, she hasn’t seen you without a sweater since your 15th birthday. Listening to your shuddering breaths, your sobs, it pains her. So much so that her voice sounds like a yell.
“Why the fuck didn’t you say anything to me? To anyone?”
“Don’t you dare talk to me like that.”
Seeing how broken you are inside, seeing the loneliness that secretly overwhelms you, she wants to punch herself. She wants to apologise, she just.. doesn’t know how. She’s not one to apologise, she never has been. She’s hot headed, cold blooded, but you soften her in a way she’s never felt.
“I’m really sorry I never reached out to you. I’m sorry I called you weird. Really, I am. And I should have never treated you the way I did.”
Her words only make you sob harder. You sob into your sleeve, the fabric muffling your almost wails, your gasping breaths. She feels like her lungs are constricting, she feels like she can’t breathe as she watches you break down into the comfort of your sweater, which is only a painful reminder that you truly have nobody but yourself. She begins wondering how many times you’ve cried like this. How many times you’ve turned to that awful habit. And the thought of that, sitting alone in your room as you cry, breaks her too. She cries into her hands.
“I am sorry. I feel horrible, I’m so ashamed of the way I just didn’t do anything. I could have done something, I should have done something. I pushed you away because I— I had just discovered I didn’t like.. god damn it. I’m a lesbian, and it was then I figured it out. Your fault.”
“It doesn’t matter.”
“It does to me. I tried to push it down, but every time I saw you it was a mean reminder that I wasn’t like everyone else. You’re such a sweet person, you don’t deserve what you got. You should have been a girl who everyone loved. Instead, you got.. you don’t deserve to be alone like you think. I lov-“
She stops. She takes a breath before she continues. It’s not the time, and she can’t use this situation to confess her infatuation with you. It was an explanation, but she can’t use it as an excuse. She feels so awkward, she hates apologising. She can’t recall a single time she’s apologised properly and meant it. Her hands fumble with her tears as she wipes them away, pushing through the awkwardness she feels.
“I like you. I want to be your friend, at least.”
You don’t reply for a bit as you try hard to calm down. Biting your lip the way you did the way she refused to be your friend, you sigh as your breath hitches.
“You won’t leave me alone until I agree, won’t you?”
“No.”
You sigh as you rub your temple, running your fingers through your hair.
“We can try. Don’t expect anything. We’re not best friends. We can try.”
Relief floods through Arlecchino, at least a bit. She was dreading her apology being rejected, causing more awkwardness. A single nod as she glances up around the room.
“Alright.”
You both sit in silence as you try to calm down. Your hands fumble with your sleeves as the tears dry on your face before her voice is heard again.
“You know you have a cobweb?”
“I know. I’m scared of spiders so I just let it live there.”
“Is it big?”
“No, but I still won’t touch it.”
Her eyes search the corners before she finally finds the little fellow, a small smile gracing her face. Her hands reach up, gently pushing the spider onto her hands. She gingerly approaches you, your eyes following her. You know the fear is irrational, but it’s always been a fear. The spider is almost cute, if it wasn’t for.. you don’t know.
“It’s fine. This species won’t hurt you at all. They look a bit scary but they’re actually not. People just don’t know how to hold them.”
You know she’s trying to distract you. It’s like she knows your thoughts, but she knows better than to speak about it.
“Is that why they run?”
“Mm.”
“How do you hold them, then?”
She looks up at you, as if for permission before she opens her hand and lets the spider crawl onto your sleeve. She figures that it not touching your skin is easier for the first time.
“Just don’t be harsh. Don’t hold them by their legs, let them roam.”
“It’s almost cute.”
“I know. I like the purple rock on your nightstand.”
You both watch the spider as it crawls around your arm, you’re slowly relaxing, still on edge, but.. better.
“It’s a geode. Amethyst.”
“Tell me about it.”
“Can I?”
“Yeah. It’s pretty.”
And for the first time in a long time, a real smile ghosts your face as you begin talking.
#arlechinno genshin#arlechinno x reader#arlebina#arlefuri#genshin impact#arle#genshin wlw#genshin x reader#genshin fanfic#arlecchino angst#arlecchino fluff#arlecchino genshin#genshin impact arlecchino#arlecchino#genshin fluff#genshin impact fluff#genshin imagines#genshin impact fic#genshin impact fanfics
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MIKE BLOCKED ME ON TWITTER FOR ROASTING HIS DUMBASS RESPONSE TO THE GRAPHIC NOVEL STUFF!!
grown ass man scared of the 19-year-old queer being mean to him over his public meltdown more at 8.
#ramblez#little white boy sad? U sad bc nobody likes you? Bc u constantly make a fool of urself and show off ur distaste for ur fans? lmao#this is one of the greatest things to ever happen to me imagine how mad he'll be when he finds out the fangame Im making has queers in it#hes gonna have a whole other white boy meltdown on main KJSNFDGKJHFGKJHGKJHSDFGSD#hes so fucking sensitive maybe just get off of social media Mike this never ends well for you#batim#batdr#bendy and the ink machine#bendy and the dark revival#and look Im joking around about this but it really is sad that the bendy devs cant handle this kind of critique towards their decisions#it seems despite the backlash once again they are choosing to ignore their fans which is yknow upsetting#But hey ig if the devs being awful was a dealbreaker for this fandom I wouldve left a long time ago and I havent#dw Im not going anywhere <3#also if anyone else here was also criticizing Mike maybe check his acct to make sure ur not blocked now since apparently#old habits die hard and this is certainly a pattern with him KJHDSFKGJHSDKFGJHDFGSD#also look before anyone asks yes I was kinda mean to him over this but to put bluntly if hes gonna be this dismissive to his fans concerns#he deserves it. Theres this persistent attitude esp in bendy fanspaces of being defensive of the devs#and I dont know why they have been extremely horrible people every single chance they get#and its very hurtful to see how many people would rather tell me to be kinder to the people who broke the heart of a child me when they#dismissed any ideas of putting queers like me in their stories than to realize Mike n Meatly bring this bad attention to themselves#to put bluntly I dont owe them kindness not until they at least apologize for the shit they did which they still havent#mike hasnt even addressed his vent poem in the code of BATDR let alone the other shit he said n did#so no I will not be kind to him ever hope this helps!
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Dancing to the beat of our hearts
Zoro Roronoa x reader
Summary : being Zoro's lover,was a dream come true. Everything was perfect about him,but...when the night comes and you see couples dancing,you cant help but to wish for more...
Warnings : none, slightly hurt/comfort,Zoro being a simp for you,soft Zoro, FLUFF,gender neutral reader
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
"ANOTHER VICTORY FOR STRAW HATS!!!CHEERS!!!"
Luffy's excited shout echoes through the night,as everyone cheer and down their drinks. All around you,people were celebrating,and happily serving you and your crewmates drinks after drinks.
You and your crewmates had managed to save yet another village from pirates,and it was time to celebrate.
Everything about this village was absolutely beautiful;from the cherry trees that had blossomed just recently,making the scenery breathtaking,to its kind and warm-hearted people who knew nothing but how to love and be happy.
They apparently,also loved to dance.
When the song changes to something soft and more melodic,you watch from your place across the bonfire how couples start to gather around;hands being placed on shoulders and arms around waists. You watch and sip your suddenly too bitter drink as they dance,and the sound of their laughter fills the air.
Your eyes wander to the green haired man sitting next to the open bar across you,and your lips pull down to a frown;Zoro didnt like to dance.
You loved Zoro,of course you did,but ever since you two became a couple...things didnt get too different between the two of you.
Obviously there were small kisses here and there,and Zoro became even more protective of you if that was even possible,but you craved real romance. Like the ones you would see young couples do,or read in the books; running under the rain while laughing,going shopping or matching clothes,and of course, dancing .
You could've made a list of the dances you wished to have with Zoro on so many occasions,but you never asked. You knew Zoro;he wasnt a big fan of showing his affection openly,always choosing to show his love to you through his actions. So it didnt take a genius to guess he would absolutely rather die than to dance.
You swallow the lump in your throat and stare down to your drink. You weren't even sure what it was; probably something light since you weren't feeling even slightly drunk. Something sweet. Maybe cherry? It sure had a good smell to it. As you swing the last of your drink around the glass,you make a mental reminder to tell Sanji to get some with you back to the ship. A small smile graces your lips as you think about sailing tomorrow morning once again with your new family,but the happiness is short lived as a bitter feeling fills your chest and you find yourself blinking rapidly in hopes of not bursting in tear right there.
Was it too much to ask to have a romantic love life?
As you start to wonder whether to return to the Going Merry or ask the musicians to play some other song,a small tap on your shoulder makes you jump in your sit slightly. You turn your head,and find yourself face to face with your boyfriend.
At first, Zoro's eyes search yours for a second,before jerking his head toward the back,where the road leads to the cherry garden.
"come with me for a second."
you silently nod,and accepting his offer to help you stand,you take his much larger hand in yours and make your way toward the garden. And when you finally step inside,you let out a loud gasp.
You dont think you've ever seen anything more beautiful in your life;the way the petals of the cherry blossoms dance in the air and settle on your hair,the air having the sweet smell of the drink that you had earlier,and the moon shining the brightest you've ever seen-
And none of them could compare to the picture Zoro was making.
You've always loved Zoro;ever since the very first moment you saw him,the first time he smiled at you,and the first time he held your hand. You loved Zoro,and you believed with your soul that there was no one prettier than him.
But now,as you watch the flower petals dancing around him,and the moonlight shining on his green air as he stares at you with the softest look on his face,you cant help your heart from beating awfully faster.
You loved Zoro. And gods above,he was the most beautiful being in the whole universe.
You're so busy admiring his features that when his fingers brush against your cheek,you jump slightly. Zoro raises his fingers up to you hair,and you feel him pluck something out.
When he lowers his hand,he shows you a small cherry blossom that was trapped in your hair. And in that moment,when he raises it up to his lips,you swear the time stops all together.
Zoro closes his eyes as his lips make contact with the flower,and he slowly opens his eyes to meet yours.
"y/n," he puts the flower in the pocket right over his heart and as he takes hold of your hand,with the sound of his three swords clanking together,he kneels right in front of you. Your gap at him,and you're torn between laughing and kneeling as well.
"Zoro,whats going on?"
Zoro scowls at you.
"what does it look like I'm doing?"
"proposing?!"
"no," Zoro deadpans,and your face visibly falls, "that has to be special. Not out of blue."
Your face brightens and small laugh escapes from your lips
"then,whats going on?"
And for the very first time since meeting him,he actually looks embarrassed.
You didn't know he could feel that kind of emotion
"I'm planning to ask you for a dance,if you let me finish."
When your mouth slams shut,he sighs and unconsciously rubs his thumb against the back of your hand.
Your heart flutter at how comforting he can be even when he's not realizing it.
"Babe,i know I'm not the most romantic person in the whole world," when you let out a snort,he scowls again, "but i promise,its not because i dont love you."
He slowly raises to his feet once again,and gently leans his forehead against yours.
"i know i dont say it enough,but i love you." His hand find your waist,as your arms wrap his neck;your eyes shining with unshed tears, "and i will continue loving you until my last breath."
You let out a small sniffle when he kisses your wet eyelashes.
"sounds pretty much like a proposal to me."
"oh,babe,i promise you that after my proposal, you'll cry your eyes out."
You tug at his short hair and give him an unimpressed look.
"you're making my heart beat with your smooth talk,Zoro. Keep it up and you'll no longer have a lover to propose to."
And when he laughs quietly,you cant help but to pull him down for a kiss.
The sound of the music in the background,makes everything feel surreal. The way Zoro holds you so gently,and his lips moving against yours with urgency,reminds you how passionate he can be. And its right there,that Zoro reminds your how much he actually loves you.
The sound of the music is still audible in the background,so when he starts swinging you side by side,you cant help the giddy laugh that escapes you. Zoro gives you a gentle smile,and kisses your forehead.
"from now on,tell me what you desire. I'll make all your dreams come true."
And when you raise your head to lock your lips with his once again,a small whisper leaves your lips.
"dont worry. All my dreams had already came true the moment i laid my eyes one you."
*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘˚˳°*.✧∘
P.s : thank you everyone for 400 followers!!!
#one piece live action x reader#one piece x reader#opla zoro x reader#zoro roronoa x reader#opla zoro roronoa x reader#zoro x reader
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February Fic Rec
Hey Guys, I'm sorry I'm so late this month that its already the next month😅 I went back to work this month and I have mixed feelings about it so there's that🫤 but at least there's faction - please don't tell my kindle, there's so many books on there that I got to read😓. anyway, happy readying everyone! enjoy the spring and remember to kudos and comment😘
Show Him The Love by scarlettletterr - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,911, sterek)
Everyone realizes Stiles is awesome, and actually gives him the recognition he deserves! For all his research, for his constant loyalty, for having awful stuff happen to him and always coming back for more, for trying to do the right thing even when people don't listen when they should.
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My gift for Meggplant, for the Glompfest. Hope you like it!
You feel like Home by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 24,300, sterek)
Five times Stiles gets abused by his boyfriend and and the one time everything falls into place, like it was always meant to be.
Maybe it was.
-------------------------------------------------------
"Are you really just leaving?" Stiles asked him.
"Yeah? There's no point in me sticking around, we already did what we always do." His boyfriend said, fastening his belt and walking out of Stiles' room.
It Starts When You're Around by strobelighted - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 26,406, sterek)
"Earth to Derek. You okay, man?"
Derek's eyes are drawn back to the guy in front of him, who's starting to look more worried now.
"I --" he starts, then swallows against the dryness. "Who are you?"
--
or, Derek gets amnesia
eli's parents are so gross (read: in love) by ash_mcj - (Rating: T, Words: 1,195, sterek)
"I would’ve been here earlier, but nobody thought it would be smart to call the one person who’s intimately dealt with the Nogitsune before, so,” Stiles said bitterly as he threw his hands up. "Now I have a list of asses I gotta kick over this very avoidable fiasco. Scott’s first, since he’s the Alpha—I’m pretty sure that’s how that works. His responsibility, or whatever.”
The familiar sound of Derek’s car pulling into the driveway caught Eli's attention, and he grinned. “Is Dad on your list?”
“Hell yeah, Dad is on my list! Right under Scott.”
“Well, he just got home, so—”
Stiles didn’t wait to hear the rest of the sentence before stomping off in the direction of the living room—and Eli quickly scrambled to follow him, ready to eavesdrop on what was likely going to be a rather impressive and amusing lecture.
[or: eli is glad that stiles is home, since derek has nearly died several times in his absence, but he really wishes they were a little less glad to see each other]
--
prompt | a reunion kiss
Hide by dr_girlfriend - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 12,419, sterek)
Stiles has been rejected so many times that it doesn't really surprise him when it happens again. Hurts, yeah, because dammit — he'd thought Derek was the one. Heartbreak sucks, and he's not so sure he's going to get over it this time.
Breaking A Rule by SinQueen69 - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 1,426, sterek)
Anon on tumblr wanted: Hiya! Please with sugar on top write a Sterek fic where derek is a business man and Stiles is a horny cockslut that sends Derek nudes while at work and Derek is pent up and punishes him when he gets home. Daddy Kink, Manhandling, Strength Kink, Bruises, Spanking, Rough Sex, Orgasm Denial, mentions of kittenplay?, verbal humiliation, gags! Tanks be safe and healthy
Soft Space by TuppingLiberty - (Rating: Mature, Words: 1,492,k sterek)
This time of year, Derek has to face too many bad anniversaries - the fire, the deaths. Stiles understands when Derek has to take a break from being alpha, when he just needs his daddy.
Rated M for kink, but no explicit (or even mature) sex.
Kinktober day 4: Daddy
(Starting Kinktober now so I can maybe finish in October this year)
How to Win an Argument Without Really Trying by sffan - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 2,288, sterek)
It started with a kiss.
Well, actually, it started with an argument.
no river, no rush by CoraRochester, ravenclawkward - (Rating: Explicit, Words: 5,351, sterek)
“You can’t marry me! I’m the worst choice. For one, there’s no strategic value to marrying a prince from Gajos—and if there were, I’d have been betrothed to you or Cora years ago. We have nothing to offer Beacon. I’m not even good at being a prince!”
…
On the eve of Derek’s coronation, he proposes to Stiles.
Are You Fucking Kidding Me? by Itsreallyjustforresearch83 - (Rating: Mature, Words: 2,893, sterek)
Derek has liked Stiles for a really long time, like embarrassingly long. But he swore to himself that he wouldn't make a move on Stiles until he knew for sure that his feeling were returned because he refuses to force something onto the Spark.
OR
Derek likes Stiles, Stiles likes Derek, but the Alpha is convinced that Stiles is still in love with Lydia and can't see the obvious dofus Stiles is being around him. Lydia intervenes just because she's sick of watching the two dummys not be together.
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Coild you possibly write something about Mizu meeting a fem reader that has albinism?
pairing: mizu x albino!fem!reader
warning(s): swearing, blood
a/n: this is adorable <3 I feel like mizu would be very… interested in the concept, since people with albinism typically have blue/grey eyes as well! she’d be confused but intrigued, I feel. reader believes mizu is male!
summary: mizu is walking through the snowy forest when she meets a woman, hair and skin white as snow. and blue eyes strikingly like hers; and for a plus… she’s injured.
word count: 773 words / 4,050 characters
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mizu’s footsteps were the only thing she could hear. the crunching of the snow beneath her heavy boots, and the whipping wind that hit her face every so often.
that was until a rustle came from the bushes.
out of instinct, she pulled her sword out of its scabbard. she raised her head slightly from the snow beneath her feet to meet the eyes of the one who dared bother her.
she pointed the sword at this persons throat. thought it was almost as if she didn’t see anyone at all; this woman blending into the falling snow.
her hair was white as the crunching snow, and her eyes a pale grey-ish blue. they almost looked like her own, if she squinted.
the red blood of her injured stuck out like a sore thumb on her.
“p-please, sir,” you stammer, your hands coming together in that of a plea. “y-you are that of a samurai.. I-if I am not mistaken. I humbly request your help.. I-I can pay!”
mizu watches you with interest, her blue eyes hidden beneath her glasses attached to your every move. her eyes narrow.
“Is there a reason I should help you?” mizu hisses, “what, besides money, do I get out of it?”
you tremble at her harsh tone.
“I-I am not sure,” you struggle to speak. “y-you do not have my blood on your hands.”
mizu rolls her eyes, before they land back on you.
“I have the blood of many men and women alike on my hands, miss, you seem to think I would care if you died.” she grumbles, looking you up and down.
she would admit, you were quite the beautiful woman. and you were here, practically kneeling at her feet, asking for her assistance. and if you were to pay; that may very well help her journey, as well.
“but I concede,” she sighs, tucking her sword back in its holder. “follow me. I will patch you up and get you to safety.”
she gestured for you to follow you over her shoulder. you nod, following her slowly but surely. It sort of pissed her off at how slow you were; but you were injured, so she kept that bit in.
“s-sir, if I may ask,” you prompt. “where.. are you headed?”
“to tanabe island.” she replies rather coldly, “to find the man I am destined to kill.”
her words hit you like a truck; if she was so determined to kill this man, what would have her hesitating to hurt you?
you nod, keeping yourself quiet at the realization. you stop at a small shop, settling just on the inside.
she sits you down with some amount of force, raising her hand to tell you to stay. you do as told, holding the wound on your arm to keep the blood from spilling further.
she returns with a poultice and bandages.
she doesn’t even take to warn you of the stinging pain you were about to experience. when she applied the poultice to your wound, you flinched and sputtered.
“stay still damn it,” mizu hissed under her breath, grabbing your other arm to keep you still.
her grip was tight, yet not painful. she wasn’t looking to patch up any other injuries.
“y-you could have at least warned me!” you grumbled.
“well, it’s over now,” she rolls her eyes, bandaging your wound tight.
after she had done so, you forked over an iron coin. she accepted it with a bow of her head.
“who is chasing you?” she asked rather bluntly.
“these.. these men. they.. I am a monster. a demon, to them.” you gesture to your white hair and eyes, “they want me dead, simple as that.”
your words seemed to have struck a chord with her. you wondered why that was; a samurai with adequate strength was standing in front of you.
“and you never learned to protect yourself?” she questions, raising an eyebrow at you.
“I am a woman, sir, they would never allow it,” you reply quietly.
she scoffs at that.
“allow it or not, you should know.”
It was obvious to you that you weren’t getting this samurai’s full story. a story you so desperately wanted to know now.
“is that your offer to teach me, sir?” you raise an eyebrow, cocking you head in a question.
she rolls her eyes, “if you are so desperate to learn.”
that makes you laugh, smiling a bit, “you are the one I suggested I do so,” you nod, though. “If you are willing to teach me, sir, that I am willing to learn.”
she nods, “than let’s get to work.”
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a/n: I’ll give this a part two, definitely!!! I love the concept!!
#mizu x reader#mizu blue eye samurai#mizu#blue eyed samurai#fanfic#fanfic request#ask#asked and answered
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Secrets from > PLUTO < that he told me
Pluto is dark. And its hard to understand him. He is your shadow; he hides from you and you hide from him. But your both watching each other very closely >
> 1 > The brighter something is > The darker the shadow. You cannot expel darkness, you can only accept it. Evil things exist and they always will. NO matter how hard you try to remove something with 'evil eye' or try to fight the good fight; whatever your fighting will always exist and the ever prevailing fight of; 'good vs evil' always will prevail. But everyone seems to forget that the darkness resides in everyone as much as their light does too.
> 2 > Rules don't exist; but we think they do. Rules funnel everyone in similar directions > When you see a rule you are forced to go in certain directions in order to avoid 'breaking the rules' but by not breaking the rules you are 'following the rules' and this makes you go in certain calculated directions (set up by people in power/social constructs) in order to avoid trouble. Or out of frustration you purposefully break them; so rules have a much greater pull on all of us then we all want to give them credit for. Also the mere concept of a law or principle defining how we must live; makes us all compromise into the laws of that are governing us. And thus; we are all products of our environments; of the rules we were forced to obey. Social constructs, government laws, or issues of any sort affect your free will, and whilst you can do whatever you want; there are many punishments awaiting you, which inevitably will affect your overall happiness/contentment because when you thought you could do anything; you realise you are very restricted and you compromise far more often than what you would like to admit.
> 3 > The more you front; the more your showing us who you are > When it comes down to it its actually very difficult to fool anyone. You may have the hang of it; but if you meet someone who also knows how to fool others; you will both stick out like a sore thumb to each other. And well once the jig is up; and the perception of yourself falls as it always does. You will feel like a pathetic person, and so it is almost always worth telling the truth; the longer you lie, the darker the dark becomes. To you and to others. and it will make the shadow work far more difficult to overcome. Embody your light as much as your dark and you will not be afraid of yourself let alone others; and you will not feel the need to 'front'
> 4 < The more you prove yourself to others, the more you proved you are trying to prove yourself and rarely did you prove what you wanted to prove. You simply approved yourself as someone willing to prove themselves
> 5 >"When you stare into the abyss, the abyss stares back at you" > I love how everyone thinks they are better than one another, because we can point out certain flaws that maybe we are avoiding; to pretend we are better than the other. But your ratchetness is just as ratchet as another, or worse. Does that make you a worser person? well maybe. But that should make you feel pretty stupid for calling other people ratchet. People need to be told what is correct and what is not; but it simply doesn't matter most of the time, because that person usually is very aware of how destructive they are, because its hard to ignore the messes you create, and sooner rather than later, they will find their karma; so why intefere? work on yourself and become an example, don't adopt someones elses kids when they are already rebelling their real mothers.
> 6 >No one can or will hurt you more than who or what you love > your enemies may sting but if your love one hurts you, as no one knows you better than them, when they strike it will hurt. And sometimes you cannot recover a relationship because you 2 have hurt each other too much. Enemies will piss you off, but truthfully fighting enemies is good fun. Fighting love ones is a whole nother ball game and that is a far more plutonian thing. Sometimes it is necessary to hurt those we love so they learn a lesson, but far more often than not ; you both will cause irreparable scars that will leave a sore spot in both of your hearts.
> 7 < You are equally as powerful and as powerless as you believe to be. Your flaws are as real as your strengths; and the longer you deny your strength or your weakness, the more it will sting when the realization hits that you are both. You are not worse or better than anyone, and the more someone pretends they are one or the other, the more pathetic they are. Regardless of which form they choose to show.
> 8 < You can't blame anyone. Only yourself. If your the vessel of your destiny than everything that passes you is just the current; and you will have a difficult time arguing with the laws of nature. Learn to accept what you are and what is around you, and then you will discover ways to manipulate it. Do not try to educate something that is immovable, but allow it to pass you; in a respectful manner, that is true power; allowing something to exist and not let it interfere with your sense of being. Because you are able to be apart of the dark > notice how any light on in the dark is a magnet to everything that is awake in the dark?
> 9 > "The most beautiful thoughts are always besides the darkest" - dark lives in the shadow of light, and because of this many times over when your fighting darkness its when you feel the most powerful; and its because you are actually embodying a more darker aspect of yourself, as you also embody a stronger 'light' within; "dont you know you can only get as high as you fell?"
I don't want to talk about my pluto; I'm just discussing what pluto means to me. There are so many places you can find him, these are just some places I've found him.
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hello!! 🐊anon here! I'm greatly excited to see the requests are finally open!! I've waited for this moment since december jiji, can I request bsd men (you can choose them but pls add ranpo and grandpa fukuzawa) with a child!fem! Reader (platonic obv) who's like Lucy from Elfen Lied? I've just re-watched the anime but I didn't remember it so bloody O_o" anyways, if you dont know about her, i quickly explain it to you, she is not human she is a diclonius, this race has vectors, which are invisible and intangible weapons and have the shape of arms with incredible physical strength, although they only reach 2 meters. Female diclonius have pink hair with 2 little horns on each side of their head, while males... They are bald and ugly lol 😭. That would be my 'quick' explanation, ofc you can ignore the blood here blood there part, but i'd like it more if you at least describe her as 'dangerous'.
At the end of the day, Reader is not a villain, just a misunderstood girl who has been through a lot, she just wants a hug and to cry in someone's arms :c. Ah i forgot, angst with some fluff if u want :3 you can ignore this if you consider it out of the rules!! Its fine for me i have more ideas to share!! Have a nuce day ill be waiting patiently, take your time and takd care of yourself!!! ૮ ˶ᵔ ᵕ ᵔ˶ ა
childhood misunderstandings
synopsis - maybe you really were just a misunderstood child
includes - ranpo, fukuzawa, sigma, oda - all platonic!
warnings - fem!child!reader, angst to comfort, fluff, mentions of blood and violence, wc - 1k
a/n: hii! sorry this took so long but hope you're having a nice day! take care of yourself aswell <3
ranpo edogawa ★↷
↪while ranpo may be outgoing, he doesn't really use that to form many relationships with the people he talks to. however he may realise how much fukuzawa's care has affected him when he finds you.
↪he is by no means an idiot, and so he can immediately understand that you aren't as dangerous as everyone made you out to be. some people really just have to do what they can to survive and so for you that meant you perhaps had to hurt some people.
↪he had no issue with offering to take you in just like fukuzawa did for him - he knew fukuzawa also wouldn't have an issue. mainly because he also knew that not many would have the same confidence to turn a blind eye and understand your situation.
↪he always thought your pink hair reminded him of the kind of pink that was on sweet wrappers - he also thought your little ears on the side of your head were adorable.
↪your combative side to your ability mattered very little to him. sure it was pretty cool and very dangerous in close quarters but he never really cared about what other people's abilities were. most times.
↪ranpo can be rather expressing, more often with people closer to him and it's not really physical contact. but he could sympathise with your situation and understand that one simple comforting hug could open a floodgate.
↪and when he does give you the biggest hug you'd ever receive, you really couldn't help but feel a sense of home in his arms (his hugs are the perfect mix of a comforting weight that doesn't feel overbearing)
yukichi fukuzawa ★↷
↪fukuzawa was no stranger to finding troubled children and taking them under his care even if a few were literal criminals - some may say he had that fatherly instinct. so when he found you in a mess of blood he wouldn't think twice.
↪of course he couldn't completely ignore the fact that he did find you in a rather concerning display of blood that was most definitely not yours, as much as he would like to. however he could happily tell himself that people always had some reason for doing what they did.
↪he thought your appearance, because of you ability, was quite lovely. your pink hair rather sweet and the small little ears on the side of your head really made him melt.
↪because of the fact that his ability helped others, that eventually extended to you. in turn making your vectors that much more controllable and therefore stronger. he could agree that your ability's more combative side was dangerous but he wanted to refrain you from using it in such ways.
↪the first time he ever gave you a hug you cried immediately. he was the first person to realise how you weren't dangerous for villainous reasons - when you realised this you grew that much more attached to him.
↪ fukuzawa practically radiates a maternal instinct and he has no problem in helping troubled children. as a result he has no problem when they view him as the father figure they might so desperately need.
sigma ★↷
↪sigma has barely lived his life. he was created 3 years ago and ever since he's been serving duties for the oda and running the sky casino. therefore, he was left with very little time to do anything else.
↪he wasn't quite as desensitized as his colleagues and so when he found you, he panicked quite a bit. the last thing he'd expect to see would be the sight of a young child surrounded by blood from what he could only assume was someone else's.
↪ although, if there was one thing that he had in common with you would be the search for a home - he barely had a past and you had a past full of unfortunate experiences. you both just wanted somewhere to be safe and feel comfort.
↪your ability with your vectors did make him wary at first, mainly because he couldn't see them. but he thought your pink hair and little ears were beautiful and unique.
↪sigma isn't exactly the most forward with any kinds of physical expression. he has probably never received a hug in his life but he would try his hardest to give you that comfort he never had. a home for the both of you.
sakunosuke oda ★↷
↪it was certainly no secret that oda loved kids - more specifically loved taking after them. even after a long day's work there's nothing more he'd like to do than visit the orphans he regularly visits. but he'd never really adopted one of his own.
↪but that all changed when he met you. finding you in a mess of blood that vaguely reminded him of how he met a certain brunette, but this time it wasn't your own. he could immediately sympathise with your situation despite probably not being in a similar one.
↪he probably had the mafia to thank for his desensitisation to anything violent and so you being classed as 'dangerous' didn't mean anything to him. to him you were a child. a child in need of proper care.
↪your pink hair and small ears were loved by the orphans that he eventually introduced you to when he couldn't let you tag alongside him - he also thought they were quite adorable.
↪your ability was the reason you were seen as 'dangerous' but he didn't care. as long as you learnt to utilise the vectors and have complete control, he wouldn't mind - he would also gladly help you learn how to control them if need be.
↪oda would be quite happy to give you a very much needed hug. if you really needed somewhere to know that you were safe and that nothing bad would happen, his arms were the perfect place.
#🐊 anon↩#x reader#x fem reader#x female reader#x fem!reader#bsd x reader#bungo stray dogs x reader#bungo stray dogs x you#bsd x you#bsd x female reader#bsd ranpo#ranpo x reader#bsd fukuzawa#fukuzawa x reader#bsd sigma#sigma x reader#bsd odasaku#odasaku x reader#oda x reader
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When Fire Meets Fate
Part 2
Request: Yes or No
A little short but hopefully good. Not very fond of this.
~~~
"I hardly understand why you refuse to cooperate with Father, (Y/N)," Alicent muttered quietly, pouring herself a cup of tea. Lifting her head, she eyed her brother with a frown, fingers slipping under the saucer to scoop it up from its spot on the table. Softly blowing, she watched the steam rise. "Everything he does is-"
"For himself." (Y/N) interrupted, running his fingers over flower designs on his mother's old jewelry box. Carefully prying it open, his eyes looked over the gemstone necklaces he'd seen his mother wear so many times. He picked one of her finer necklaces, cradling it in his palm before approaching his sister. Alicent set her cup down with a clink and raised her hands toward her hair, lifting her braids as (Y/N) moved to stand behind her.
"Mother would hate to see how much you resent Father," Alicent murmured, releasing her hair once the necklace was secured around her neck, one hand falling to touch the gemstones.
"Father and I have never seen eye to eye, Alicent."
"But it's worsened, has it not? When's the last time you've had a civil conversation with him?" Alicent spun around to face him, hair swinging over her shoulder and brows knitting together. The sight of her worried doe eyes tugged at his heartstrings and (Y/N) sighed. Looking down as Alicent took his hands into her own and ran her thumb over his knuckles. "All this fighting and resentment... It'll do you no good, (Y/N). He's our father and he loves us."
"He loves you. And even then, he doesn't truly care about what you think, just what you can do for him. One day, you're gonna reflect on these days and you'll wish you had listened to me." (Y/N) met her eyes again. Big and brown like their mothers'. Even with stoic faces, their eyes betrayed them, showing an ocean of emotions.
"You're hurting and lashing out, (Y/N)." Alicent straightened her shoulders, pink-colored lips pulling into a line. "Perhaps a prayer-"
"I will not argue with you about this again, Alicent." He muttered and slipped his hands out of her tender hold, stepping away from her and walking toward the doors.
"Where are you going?" She called out after him.
"On a walk." (Y/N) replied, pushing one of the doors open and stepping out into the hallway. Maids and guards bowed their heads as he walked past them, mumbled greetings falling from their lips. If only the other lords and ladies gave him the same ounce of respect. Sure, they greeted him similarly, only to whisper about his family as soon as his back turned to them. Not even kings and queens were safe from the rumors spread about in court. Sweet smiles turned venomous when one wasn't looking.
Stepping onto a balcony overlooking one of the many courtyards, (Y/N) peered down at the knights below, waiting and praying to be picked for the Kingsguard. (Y/N) ran his hand along the railing, feeling the bumpy stone against his soft skin. Unlike many of his brothers, knighthood hadn't called out to him. Sure, he knew how it felt to hold a sword and swing it, but the desire to strike someone had never sprung out at him. And besides, the Hightowers had people for that. So, the skin of his hands remained without a scratch.
"Enjoying the weather, Lord (Y/N)? It's a lovely day."
Dropping his arm to his side, he bowed his head. "Princess Rhaenys." He greeted, lifting his eyes to look at the older woman. She studied him, seemingly debating whether he'd be worth talking to or not.
"Tell me, Lord (Y/N)... How is it being the son of Otto Hightower?" Rhaenys asked as she rose from her seat, her long dark blue dress sliding across the floor as she moved.
"Lovely." (Y/N) answered dully, clasping his hands behind his back. Rhaenys hummed and smirked, stepping toward the railing and resting her arms on it, eyes traveling over the crowd of knights before they landed on Rhaenyra. The new heir stood beside Ser Harrold and looked rather bored with the task at hand. Rhaenys watched the princess closely, fingers drumming against her arm. She'd been denied the crown all those years ago because of her gender, only to watch her cousin name his daughter heir. (Y/N) knew the feeling of being so easily dismissed all too well.
"I hear you've made a name for yourself," Rhaenys spoke up once more, glancing in his direction. "The Boy Who Never Smiles... Quite the title at the mere age of five and ten." He remained silent, watching the knights as they were called up by Ser Harrold and waved off by Princess Rhaenyra.
Noticing his lack of response, Rhaenys switched topics. "I assume you are engaged?"
"I am not, Princess."
"A boy of your status without a betrothed? Your father must have something planned. Perhaps an engagement that will finally get his blood on the throne." (Y/N) grimaced at her words despite the amusement behind them. He could imagine his dear sister talking to King Viserys late at night, saying the right words and doing the right things to get him interested. And there was nothing he could do, not when their own father encouraged it.
"I hear your sister and Princess Rhaenyra are close. Could the same be said for you?" Rhaenys asked as she pushed herself up, gaze lingering on the knights before she looked at him, head tilted and brow raised. (Y/N) looked toward Rhaenyra, watching her speak with one of the knights before shaking his head.
"We're not close." He answered, turning back to Rhaenys. "The most we've spoken about is the weather."
While appearing unsatisfied with his answer, Rhaenys nodded and returned to her previous spot on the bench, lifting her cup toward a maid. She watched her cup fill before stopping the maid, motioning to the wine with a nod from her head but (Y/N) rejected her silent offer.
Clearing his throat, (Y/N) moved his arms out from behind his back and toyed with the ring on his finger. "If I may be so bold, Princess..." Trailing off, he waited for her to nod before continuing. "If you had been chosen as heir back during King Jaehaerys reign, it would've saved both the Targaryens' and Hightowers' much trouble."
"You blame the throne for the death of your mother." Rhaenys mused softly.
"I blame my father. I understand being the Hand has been his job for many years but I believe you would've chosen someone else and thus we might've returned to Oldtown. Back home, she would've been a priority, not a second thought." (Y/N) explained. Rhaenys set her cup down on the table beside her. Pressing her lips together, she looked up at him and extended her hand toward him. (Y/N) hesitantly reached out, pressing his palm against hers. She ran her thumb over the back of his hand, something she most likely did to comfort her own children.
"I offer my condolences, Lord (Y/N). Losing a mother is never easy." She spoke quietly, almost warmly. "And your support is appreciated, child."
"Thank you, Princess. I'll be taking my leave." (Y/N) retracted his hand and bowed his head, resuming his walk and continuing down the hall. He turned the corner, fingers ghosting over the spot Rhaenys had provided comfort. He felt tears prick at the back of his eyes. (Y/N) hadn't realized how much he missed the comfort of a mother. Inhaling, (Y/N) blinked away the tears. Weeping didn't bring back the dead.
Heading down the stairs, he halted upon noticing the princess waiting at the bottom of the staircase. She offered him a smile and (Y/N) sighed, resuming his trek down the steps and walking past her, hoping she'd been waiting for someone else. But instead, she fell into step with him.
"Have a nice chat with Princess Rhaenys?" Rhaenyra questioned with a grin. Had Targaryen's always been so nosy? (Y/N) exhaled through his nose and glanced at the girl beside him. When he didn't respond, Rhaenyra quickened her pace and stood in his path, a cheeky smile appearing on her face despite his annoyance.
"Why don't you ask her?" (Y/N) breathed.
"Because I asked you, Lord (Y/N)." Rhaenyra shrugged her shoulders, a soft giggle slipping out. The happiest he'd seen her since the passing of Queen Aemma. A façade for her grief, maybe. But (Y/N) wasn't in the position to question a princess, much less one that had been made heir to the throne.
"It was a lovely chat, Princess." (Y/N) answered. "How was picking a new knight for the Kingsguard?"
"You were watching?" Rhaenyra tilted her head, long hair swaying to one side. "I chose Ser Criston Cole; the knight from the tourney who bested my uncle. Can you believe he was the only knight with battle experience?"
"A good choice then, Princess." (Y/N) praised and the corners of her lips twitched upward. "You and your father deserve to be protected by the best and that certainly shouldn't be some fool who weeps over losing a game."
"My thoughts exactly."
"If that is all-"
"No, it's not." Rhaenyra shook her head and took a step closer to him, hands folding infront of her. (Y/N) resisted the urge to sigh and instead motioned for her to continue with a nod. Rhaenyra looked down at her hands, running a finger over the rings adorning them. Licking her lips, she looked back at him.
"Have I done something to offend, Lord (Y/N)? I've noticed that you and I rarely speak, even when Alicent is with us. We've known each other for years, and yet... You are a stranger to me." Rhaenyra pursed her lips.
"When you have as many siblings as us, rare is the time we get something fully to ourselves. I wouldn't wish to change the dynamic between you and Alicent by inserting myself. She cares for you, Princess. I hope the love you have for each other will help with any obstacles you face in the future." (Y/N) explained and stepped around her, arm brushing against hers as he walked past her.
"Good day, Princess."
✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶ ✶
When their father had told them he wished for their presence in the room where only the council were allowed, a pit had formed in (Y/N)s' stomach. He'd spent the night soothing Alicent as she paced in his room, voicing her anxieties and worries regarding Otto visiting Dragonstone to confront Prince Daemon. He'd returned in one piece, sadly enough, but the relief on Alicents face had been enough to keep (Y/N)s' thoughts to himself. He'd wished for nothing more than to hear about their fathers' demise before his plans could escalate further, but as he stood beside his twin, he knew his prayers had been ignored. They wouldn't have been called in if King Viserys didn't plan on marrying his sister.
His eyes remained trained forward, even as the other lords entered the room and took their seats. Rhaenyra stood by the refreshments table, glancing at the twins every so often in mild confusion but neither of them met her gaze, either out of guilt or anger. King Viserys turned away from the window and approached the table, looking at each lord.
"I have decided to take a new wife." He announced, meeting Lord Corlys expectant gaze briefly before looking toward his daughter. (Y/N)s' fingers dug into his skin as a wave of hot washed over him. Rhaenyra noticed his tense figure from across the room and frowned, brows furrowing slightly. Her eyes slid over to Alicent, and then her father. The wrinkles between her brows smoothened and her eyes slightly widened in realization, head turning toward her childhood friend.
"I intend to marry..." Trailing off, King Viserys looked toward Alicent. "The Lady Alicent Hightower before spring's end." Silence fell over the room as each lord absorbed the information. (Y/N) looked at his father and clenched his jaw. His father didn't bother hiding his smugness and triumph. (Y/N)s' feet began moving on their own, leading him toward the doors. The lords turned in their chairs to watch him, the wood creaking beneath their weight. Shoving the door open, he spared a glance toward the guard he'd nearly hit, the metal clattering against the wall as the guard stumbled backwards. (Y/N) blindly walked in one direction, thoughts running wild. He didn't even notice when he reached his room, only taking note of it when the guard stationed outside his room opened the doors for him.
"I don't wish to speak with anyone, tell them as much if they come." (Y/N) ordered, getting a weak nod in return before the door closed. Taking in a shakey breath, (Y/N) leaned his forehead against the door, knuckles turning white from the grip he had on the doorknob. He pressed his lips together as anger gave way to exhaustion, his shoulders slumping and a sigh escaping his lips.
Each of his brothers had given up their lives to please their father; many becoming knights to earn his praise. But of course, nothing could ever be enough for Otto. He asked for more, desired more, demanded more. And like fools, his siblings obeyed. They hoped to make their father proud, to earn his praise and love. His mother gave him son after son until her frail body could no longer bear children and Otto repaid her by being away the night of her death, leaving her surrounded by a few of her children while she cried for him. He could sometimes hear her soft, exhausted voice at night echoing in his head. Desperate and neglected. Her image flashed in his head whenever he closed his eyes; pale skin, dry lips, darkened eyes, the outline of her bones faintly showing. No longer a beautiful woman. Just a memory.
Pushing himself away from the door, he staggered further into his room and fell back on the bed, burying his face in his hands. It'd only be a matter of time before he'd be pushed into some ridiculous plan such as a miserable marriage for an alliance or more power. He groaned at the prospect, running his hands over his face. As a man, he had more freedom, more time to do as he pleased. While the chain around his neck was longer than his sisters', it was still a chain nonetheless. And only few things would coax his father into setting him free.
Tilting his head, he looked at the painting mountain above his desk. A painting of his mother whilst she'd been pregnant with him and Alicent. Her soft skin had grown wrinkled from age, but she still looked younger than her age. Even in the painting, one could tell how tired she'd been. Her smile felt forced and her eyes looked distant. The painter had perfectly captured the subject. A sad, shell of a woman.
"Lord (Y/N)," The guard entered his room and (Y/N) grunted, pushing himself up into a sitting position. Before he could remind him of the order he'd given, Rhaenyra stepped inside, dismissing the guard with a wave of her hand. Her gaze lingered on the closed door, nails gently scraping against her wrist.
"Did you know?" She asked softly, turning her head in his direction, eyes slowly turning glossy.
"Princess-"
"Did you know?" Rhaenyra repeated harshly, lip curling as her eyes narrowed into an accusatory glare. (Y/N) watched at her silently, fingers pressing into the dark covers of his bed, his mothers' painting staring holes into the side of his head. Only cowards lie to the innocent, he remembered her words clear as day. One of her many lessons. She wanted good men for sons. His shoulders rose slightly as he inhaled and lowered when he exhaled. He rose from the bed and nodded, walking toward the table where wine awaited him.
"I knew Alicent had been... visiting your father."
"Visiting? Since when?" Rhaenyras' expression shifted into one of bewilderment. "How long did it take for your family to latch onto my grieving father?"
(Y/N) glared at her. "My father, you mean. This is the last thing I wished for." He poured himself a cup, setting the bottle down harder than he intended and making the contents on the table shake. "I'm sure it hadn't even been an hour before he began plotting and Alicent foolishly did what he asked of her. My sister isn't entirely innocent in this, I know that, but the choice was ultimately your father's."
"I know that." Rhaenyra spat, the tears finally flowing from her eyes. "Is that what you insinuated the other day? That my best friend marrying my father would be an obstacle you hoped we'd overcome? It hasn't even been a year since my mother died and vultures have already claimed her spot!" Rhaenyra cried out, wiping her tears away. (Y/N) drank from his cup and looked back at the distraught princess, her soft sobbing filling the quiet space. Tightening his grip around the cup, he debated comforting her. Sighing softly, he set his cup down and approached her, reaching out. The tips of his fingers touched her forearm and Rhaenyra stiffened, looking down at his hand. For a moment, (Y/N) thought she'd move out of reach, but instead, she stepped forward, hesitating before she wrapped her arms around his waist, cheek pressing against his chest.
"It was supposed to be Lady Laena, not Alicent... Not my only friend here..." Rhaenyra whispered, shoulders trembling with each shaky breath and sob. (Y/N) wrapped an arm around her shoulders and used his free hand to gently stroke her hair as he'd done many times with Alicent, running his fingers through her soft hair until her sobs subsided. Rhaenyra tightened her grip around him, another tear sliding down her cheek. "I have no one." She sniffled.
"You're a princess. Many would kill for your friendship."
"Only because they want something from me." Rhaenyra frowned, leaning back to look up at him, lips parting as (Y/N) gently brushed his thumb against her wet cheek, drying it.
"I'm sure you'll choose well."
"I choose you." Rhaenyra released him and swallowed, stepping back and regaining her posture.
"Princess, it will only do you more harm-"
"Be it by order or by choice, you and I are gonna be friends, Lord (Y/N). You can understand me better than anyone. Our fathers have both let us down today... Alicent has as well. You know exactly how it feels to lose a mother. I do not wish to be alone here, and I know you feel the same. When everyone else fails us, we will have each other. When I ascend the throne as Queen Rhaenyra, I'll want you by my side as an ally and friend. I've only ever heard the truth from you. I know you are capable of showing kindness and empathy. So, please accept my offer of friendship... Because we both need someone to lean on during times like these."
#x reader#x you#x y/n#x male reader#house of the dragon x y/n#house of the dragon x you#house of the dragon x male reader#house of the dragon x reader#hotd x male!reader#hotd x reader#hotd#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#rhaenyra targaryen#Rhaenyra Targaryen x male reader#princess rhaenyra targaryen#alicent hightower#otto hightower#x hightower!reader
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If you don't mind me giving you some inspiration to write, I've got a little scenario you could play with involving Alucard (Castlevania). Perhaps a great ball is happening and even though they aren't a couple, he invites our dear reader to accompany him. What follows is a tender if not very charged moment between the two as they help each other get dressed. It could end with a resolved note or perhaps linger with the promise of what could be...
And what inspiration it was! Thank you, here it be.
I chose the resolved note
Mirror
Fandom: Castlevania series (2017-2021)
Pairing: Alucard x F!Reader
Count: 2.7k
Rating: T
Tags/CW: AFAB reader, oneshot, mutual pining, romantic angst, longing, unresolved sexual tension, angst again, unresolved emotional tension, confessions
All characters depicted are 18+
Mirror
mirror
on
the
wall
tell
no
more
lies
of
who we
are.
—Atticus
You should never have agreed to this.
Gazing in the mirror to ensure the trappings of your dress are fastened as needed, you realize that the person you see before you is a far cry from the one you knew, months ago.
Not the physical appearance that was altered as much, no.
Longing. Longing and friendship and the loss of both did this to you, and all and everything else that passed; now, there is an everpresent knot in your throat, a despondent voice in the back of your mind, always repeating the same.
Gone.
As you run a hand through your hair, thinking belatedly what to do with it for the night, you consider: he’d suggested this.
He’d put forward the idea that you move to the closest town, noticing your loneliness—and if there ever was a being in the world who knows the torment of its perpetuity, that would be him. But he was wrong. The times he walked in, catching you staring bleakly out the window; the times he’d seen you fastly wiping your eyes with your sleeve as he neared. If anything, loneliness was not the reason; but you were too much of a coward to tell him otherwise, weren’t you?
Weren’t you? You berate yourself, lip curling.
He wanted this. When you’d asked him to come with, to live, he refused on account of his duty. A legacy of ashes, he said, but a legacy still, and it was his alone to guard. But no one should ever be secluded like this, you’d offered, it was not fair, you’d said.
“Oh, but it is,” he’d murmured one chilly night spent watching the snowfall. “It is… only fitting, I’ve come to think.”
You reach for a comb, half-heartedly brushing through the strands, gazing at the cold, flat surface, seeing so many moments that are gone.
He’d wanted this, said it was not your obligation to remain a companion to someone like him.
“You belong with your own people. Not in this decrepitude.”
You fool, the bitter thought comes. That never mattered. I would have stayed. I would have stayed as your friend, even if there was no chance for you to look at me and see more.
But you didn’t. You didn’t want him to know, you didn’t want him to see. What was the point of sharing a depth of unrequited feelings, what help would it be to him, rather than another burden?
How strange. But maybe, you tell yourself, combing idly, after all, it’s merely devotion that you feel? An affinity and gratefulness you’re mistaking for something else, and maybe, maybe… you’re worrying for nothing. Maybe it’ll pass soon, and you’ll forget. You’ll attempt a life here, you will live, as humans must do. You hate the tears that sting your eyes.
“I can’t,” you murmur to your destitute self in the mirror. “I can’t…”
Two soft knocks on the door.
Swiftly you rub at your eyes with your richly embroidered sleeve, taking a breath. “Enter.”
You turn and feel a spike of jealousy, of hurt, of longing so deep you want to carve out your heart and throw it at his feet.
He looks so much like he belongs here, with his bright long hair and elegant shirt, that dark overcoat folded neatly under his arm.
Adrian blinks, staring at you as he closes the door. “You seem…”
“I’m not ready,” you mumble, turning back to your task, gazing at him in the mirror.
Another farce. He’d proposed you attend the yearly masked ball, to begin mingling and integration in this new society, in this foreign town you wish burned to the ground.
“I can see that,” Adrian says. “I merely wanted to,” he hesitates as you turn, then places his coat carefully onto an armchair.
Outside, the rain has begun to patter against the windows of the inn. He’d given you enough by way of means to live comfortably until you found your bearings here, until you found a means to live by. For the purpose at hand, he’d booked a room in the same place for the night.
He’s already donned his mask: black and gold, an embellishment that fades before the sheerness of his eyes. You blink as your stare is drawn to what he holds in his hand, then back to the grimace pulling at his lips. “I’ve tried all, but this cravat won’t do my bidding no matter what I do. I thought, other hands might be of more use,” he looks at you with a pale smile.
You snort. He could be wearing roughened hemp clothes and still look as perfect as he does in these sleek, elegant garments of black and white and crimson.
“Fine,” you shake your head, putting forth your own smile—it’s fake, but it’ll have to do. You rise and walk over to him, taking the fine cravat from his hand. You haven’t seen him in two weeks, not since you’ve made the town a permanent residence.
You look up at him. Unable to meet his eyes so close, you focus on the intricate gilded details of his mask. His hair is tied back from his face, a few strands straying over sharp cheekbones—are they more pronounced than before? You wonder at this and nothing, as you look back to fasten the cravat around his neck, your hands working slowly, your head spinning with the scent he’s using—something of lilies and lilac, certainly some rarity from the early years of his childhood travels with the castle and his now defunct family.
“How are you faring so far?”
You loathe him without a right to, but does he know? Does he even know how he twists the dagger? It seems not, and the sting in your eyes mellows. “It’s different, no doubt,” you speak softly, wanting to press your cheek to his shoulder and weep. “Many more people than I’m used to, but it… it looks safer than the wilds of the woods, for the most part,” you try a joke. “And you?”
Your fingers are nearly done with the knot, but when there comes no answer but the patter of rain against the window you pause, looking up at him again. His eyes tell you nothing. His face is expressionless no doubt, hidden behind that mask, as still as he is.
“As you say, it is different,” Adrian finally speaks. “But there were no other threats, and for now all seems quiet.” On the last word you think his voice cracked just a little; might be you imagined it.
“There,” you say, done with the knot, hands sliding slowly down his chest, over his fine white shirt, before they fall at your sides. You turn away and head back to your seat, burning from the closeness and feeling absolutely pathetic. You pick up the brush again, watching him in the mirror; staring at the ground—what is this?
“I must finish my hair, but have no inkling of what to do with it,” you chatter away to fill the emptiness, though the shallow topic makes you want to cry.
Adrian looks up; your eyes meet in the mirror. Then he’s nearing you, for some reason he’s still here—well, you are to go together, after all, he’d agreed to be your partner for the night, offered even.
“I know a plain one I used to help my mother with,” he says, having slowly neared until he stands behind your chair. “If you wish, I could help with the first steps, you can make something of your own liking out of it.”
“Now that, is a skill I did not expect of you,” you can’t help but smile at him, and when he returns it, you feel the bliss of past, comfortable moments together, before this wretchedness took roots inside you, curling so strong and deep nothing you’ve done so far helped free you of it.
“How so?” Adrian asks, head tilting to the side, then, “May I?”
You nod, then freeze when long hands are placed on the top of your head, gliding through your hair. You glance up at his reflection.
“Well, because…” you curse the sensations brimming at this barest of touches, at the slight pressure of fingertips on your scalp. Oh, but you truly are pathetic, aren’t you?
His long fingers are slow to sift through your hair, catching unwieldy strands; they feather over your cheek, your temples, the nape of your neck; you bite on your lip, hating him for all but casting you out in the guise of friendship and selflessness, wanting that same touch everywhere until you can’t breathe. “Because, you never mentioned it before, I suppose,” you add lamely, your head emptying of logic and coherent thought.
“I never had a chance to,” Adrian replies softly, and in the mirror, you see his eyes are on his task; he looks carefully down at his work, seemingly absorbed by it.
His hands are gentle, not a tug or a snag; you close your eyes, lips parting. If you’re being a wretch, you’ll take all you can get, at least make it worth it.
“Hand me that pin, please,” he says, and you do so, fingers brushing against his just barely.
He’s doing a fine job of it, and as you open your eyes, you must admit: your hair gains a semblance of satisfactory appearance under his care.
“There,” he says at last, looking at his handiwork, then meeting your eyes again. “How do you like it?”
“It’s,” you swallow as his hands alight on your shoulders. “It’s wonderful,” you say.
“I honestly never thought I’d do this again,” Adrian replies, hands sliding from your shoulders but—
There is sadness in his eyes, and something else, and it’s that with the beating of your heart that has you reaching, pressing a hand over his, trapping it on your shoulder.
You look up at him. “Adrian,” you must be mad, what are you doing? What do you think you’re doing? He’s never given any sign that… that he’d see you that way, but damn it, damn it, damn it all.
You stare at each other in silence. His hand presses into your shoulder even as your grip grows tighter. You’re panting, and the tears you’d so bravely kept at bay now tremble in your eyes. “It’s not the same,” you croak, “It’s not the same without you.”
His lips part, but he says nothing, gazing down at you in that mask, unmoving, his hand still warm on your shoulder.
“I don’t understand why you wanted to be alone, but I try. I know you feel so much guilt, and you… you might not have place for anyone else in your heart because of it, and you might never see me as anything else, but I… I’ll go mad if I don’t tell you this, and then… then you can do what you will.”
“You know why we agreed for you to leave,” is all he says; his lips press together in that way you’ve learned he does when uneasy, or vexed.
“Yes, but I… I’ve come to care for you, to feel things I never thought I’d feel for another,” your words leave your mouth even as you dread the outcome of your sudden, mindless outburst; you're shivering. “And you made me leave, you cast me away, I only wanted to… I wouldn’t have asked for more but to be your friend…”
You yelp when the chair is suddenly spun around with you in it, and Adrian’s staring down at you, a hand propped on each armrest. “I didn’t cast you away,” he says, and through your rapid heartbeat you hear the cracks in his words; as though he struggles to speak them. He looks to the side, eyes closing in a frown. “I… I did not want to tie you to me, I want…” he looks back at you, with a sadness and fire in his gaze that leaves you breathless, “I want you to be happy, away from… from my petty self-deprecation, my sleepless nights and empty days. What would you get from it? What could you possibly...” he trails away, shakes his head.
You must be dreaming, you want to scream. Instead, your voice comes like trickling rain. “... were you too blind to see, what happiness is to me?”
His head had lowered, but when Adrian looks at you again, his eyes burn. “Then tell me.”
“It is you,” you say, in agony. “You fool,” and your hands reach, slow to undo the lacings of his mask, and as soon as you remove it, you find his face twisted by the same emotion you’d seen on yourself in the mirror.
Miserable longing.
You smile, close to sobbing in relief, chest heaving. Placing the mask aside, you slowly reach to touch his face; his dark lashes shiver as Adrian gazes down at you, seemingly trapped there though you’re the one caged by him in the chair.
When you pull him down to you by his cravat he yields readily, sighs, nuzzling at your face.
“I’m a coward,” he whispers, eyes shut as you card fingers through his hair with barely contained urgency, feeling the softness, the slickness of it, the scent of it, of him.
He draws back, so close to your face you see the golden rims of his irises. “I did not want to be selfish, to keep you there though I… I didn’t want to think about what I’d seen, the change in you… but… “ his forehead rests on your shoulder with a sigh. His hand, warm and scarred, is gentle as he feels along your bare neck. “... but while you were there, I felt… a little more like me…” he admits, and you’re melting beneath the onslaught of sensation, the confession branded into your skin, his hair tickling and soft where it caresses your cheek.
He raises his head, and you stare at each other for moments; seconds; eternities.
“Come back,” he says, and through the burst of emotion you cup his cheek, and press your lips to his; he sighs; you whimper softly as he deepens it all, seeking more, an arm around your waist lifting you to him easily; you wrap around him with relish, not letting go even if the world were to crash down on you both, and his arms are vicelike around you.
Your feet barely touch the ground in his embrace, and you’re smiling now, actually smiling, shedding layer after layer of suppressed heartache and desire and protectiveness; a care so deep you can call it nothing else than what it is, though you dare not tell him yet.
He licks into your mouth with the thirst of one denied sustenance for years on end, crushes you to him so strongly you gasp; but you’re no different. Your arms are bonds around his neck, body pressing against him, leg curling around his hip as though trapping him for fear he’ll vanish; when you break away to breathe, you see his lips are bruised, his eyes so bright as though a dark veil had been cast off; his smile is the sun forgotten by the rains outside, and his long hand grips the skin of your bare thigh, holding your leg wrapped tightly around his hips. Clothes, crumpled. Your dress, wrinkled. His cravat, which you’d so carefully fastened, is slack around his neck, and his hair is a gleaming mess.
“Adrian,” you say, licking at his taste on your lips, unable to recall a state of drunkenness such as this. Without even realizing, your gaze slips briefly towards the bed, then back on his face.
“Will you?” he asks after another swift kiss, a tug of softness. “Will you come back with me?”
You gently pry yourself away only enough to take his hand, placing it to your breast; he gasps. “Yes,” you say, voice shaking with fear overpowered by need. You reach for his other hand and lace your fingers with his, slow to step back, closer to the empty bed. “But not yet.”
You fall and he follows, his features raw with all that you feel, your shadows melding together against the wall.
The mask lies forgotten on the table, shimmering in the candlelight.
MASTERLIST: CASTLEVANIA SERIES x READER
More of my work is on AO3 [many stories not on tumblr]
BLOG MASTERPOST (all you need to know)
Likes/comments/reblogs always and forever appreciated
The line "I felt… a little more like me" is also inspired by Atticus
#alucard x reader#alucard castlevania x reader#adrian tepes x reader#alucard x you#adrian tepes x you#castlevania imagine#alucard x oc#x reader#castlevania x you#adrian tepes x oc#fem!reader#f!reader#alucard x fem!reader#alucard x f!reader#castlevania x reader#ruiniel:fanfiction
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𝓡𝓮𝓵𝓪𝓽𝓲𝓸𝓷𝓼𝓱𝓲𝓹 𝓱𝓮𝓪𝓭𝓬𝓪𝓷𝓷𝓸𝓷𝓼 - 𝓣𝓲𝓰𝓱𝓷𝓪𝓻𝓲
A/N: I love him an unhealthy amount.
Warning(s): Angst, breakup
——————•°•✿•°•——————••——————•°•✿•°•——————
❀- Oh boy
❀- Busy. Very very busy.
❀- He cant always make time for you, theres things that he just has to do like post the patrol routes every morning and give Collei her tasks and heal the idiot adventurers that for some reason lack any kind of common sense
❀- Hes basically the Avidiya forest version of Kokomi, except hes more sassy then sweet
❀- Its not like you arent busy as well, you are the hero of Teyvat after all and you just arrived in sumeru not long ago. Theres still many things to do and explore, not to mention all the people you have to help to and all of your daily commissions
❀- Really you two could go weeks without seeing or hearing from each other, it worried you and rightfully so.
❀- You loved Tighnari and the two of you had a beautiful relationship.
❀- But you wanted to be with someone you could actually.. well, be with
❀- So one day you were returning to Gandarva Ville with one solid goal in mind, you didnt want to do this but part of you knew it would be better for both of you
❀- You found him sitting in his house, working on whatever he had in those viles, some sort of murky green liquid that you'd rather not know about
❀- He didnt even have to look at you to know it was you who stepped in, his ears do pick up everything after all.
❀- "So you return, i'd thought for sure that you'd met your end to some kind of wild animal or mushroom by now" He joked, turning to meet your eyes only to see the solemn look across your once gentle features
❀- He raised an eyebrow at your expression, surely his jokes weren't so terrible that you looked genuinely sad about them
❀- How were you supposed to do this? Surely theres an easier way to tell him without outright saying it. You racked your brain trying to come up with an easier solution, only to find nothing.
❀- A deep sigh brushed past your lips which only raised your beloved forest watchers concern
❀- "Love?" He called to you, moving to step forward and maybe wrap his arms around you. It'd been a while since you two had seen each other so naturally he'd been missing being close to you.
❀- Before he could get any closer you took a step back, this caused a pit in his stomach to form and an almost hurt expression to overtake the smile his lips held just a moment ago
❀- "Did.. something happen?" Arms dropping to his sides he had a feeling about what you were going to say, but his eyes were franticly searching your features. Looking for any hint of a smile, any indication that this might be a joke
❀- And then you said it, voice cracking as you fought back your already brewing tears. He'd hoped that he heard you wrong, vision blurring as he thought of ways he could convince you to stay.
❀- As you stood there, staring at the floor, convincing yourself that your decision was final you had hoped he would say something anything to try and get you to stay with him
❀- That never came
❀- A gentle "Okay" passed his lips as he refused to allow his tears to flood past his waterline. Tighnari didn't ask for an explanation, he wasn't naive, already knowing that you and him hardly ever saw each other.
❀- "All i ask is that you take care of yourself, if not for me then for yourself" his words no louder then a whisper, knowing well that if he spoke any louder his voice would crack
❀- You'd nod and turn to leave, fighting back your tears as you briskly left the vile. All while ignoring the greetings of its inhabitants.
❀- You wouldn't see Tighnari again for a long while after that.
——————•°•✿•°•——————••——————•°•✿•°•——————
𝐹𝑒𝑒𝓁 𝒻𝓇𝑒𝑒 𝓉𝑜 𝓇𝑒𝓆𝓊𝑒𝓈𝓉!
#genshin impact#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin x y/n#genshin impact headcanons#genshin impact tighnari#tighnari#collei#genshin tighnari#tighnari x reader#tighnari scenario#tighnari angst#tighnari x y/m#tighnari x you#angst#fluff#genshin impact angst#genshin angst#tighnari fluff#tighnari breakup#x reader#genshin impact x reader#genshin headcanons
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Brainrot time! I cant shake this scenario off my head:
Its spring, something in the air changes, flowers blossom, animals seem to be more active, all colors become brighter and senses seem to sharpen. There's almost an electricity in the air... and the hybrids of the smp feel this change. Of course they know what the season means, afterall spring is for breeding, as a matter of fact, most of them start to act... different. With more energy, some of them become particulary territorial, some of them become snappy. Some of them become extra clingy and some seem completly unaffected, until something makes them snap, the further into the breeding season, the more feral some thoughts become.
Everyone is deep down, waiting, holding their breath, the luckier hybrids have a partner to get through the season, but what about those unmated?
Feel free to add your thoughts if you want! About any hybrid you feel like it :]
[Ill probably add a more filthy follow up of this, if i muster up the courage]
BOY HOWDY DO I HAVE A LOT OF THOUGHTS ON THIS ONE.
I honestly am just gonna compile a list of people into this because I have MANY thoughts on this subject (partially from experience...um...don't ask unless you want to know ^^; ))
Dream- Starting strong, I fully believe this man is a hybrid of some kind, usually a ram. Usually would go to George and Sapnap for help during his ruts until he meets you. He was always incredibly meticulous about watching the days before his next cycle. Being in the prison was hell for him because he had no way of tracking the days and no you to help him through it. He'd rut against his pillow and whine your name, desperate to feel your touch to help his overheated, understimulated body.
George- A cat. You can't tell me this man wouldn't be a god-blessed cat. Now this does tend to mean a spiky cat dick, but he does do his best to make that process as painless for you as possible. During his ruts are about the only times he's not an absolute pillow prince and will fuck into for as long as you'll let him.
Sapnap- His touch can be rather dangerous if not monitored very closely during his breeding cycles. He has burnt you before during sex and he will absolutely tear into himself about it after. Think "I was too rough with you during my cycle and now you don't wanna be my mate," to the tune of that one Ozzy Osbourne TikTok. Honestly being with him during a rut is how you probably discovered your love of temperature play.
Awesamdude- Almost doesn't want you around during his ruts. Sam can get a bit violent, namely with his mating marks. In the early stages, he's more prone to exploding, which is part of why he doesn't want you near. But he knows better than most what it's like to go through a rut alone and eventually relents. He learns to to let off tiny explosions over one big one and both loves and hates the scars he's left on your skin.
Eret- I see her as a wither hybrid of sorts, and yes, Withers do go through mating cycles. She tries really hard not to touch you during this time as you WILL get withered. While it might not kill you, Eret still worries about hurting you in a state where he's not really in a position to help, brain too foggy to think of much but how you good you feel.
Foolish- The most violent honestly, namely because of how much he bites. And then, y'know, shark hybrid. Shark smell blood. It can...cause a bit of a frenzy. He will often try to breed you with both members because that's how he gets the most pleasure. He really enjoys the sight of you wearing his cum though as well, all stuffed full and carrying his scent.
Karl- Remember! Karl isn't human, so I would wager he does go through a form of mating cycle. He's more liable to showing his true form in this state, despite how he may have tried to hide it at first. He really likes to wrap you up in his arms and hold you close, both in and out of that form. His cycles don't last super long, but he's so foggy during them he doesn't always remember.
DreamXD- This absolute menace. XD will suppress himself for as long as physically possible before his body says "Look if you don't fuck right this second? We're gonna have a problem >:(". He knows he's allowed to let himself go with you and will honestly probably fuck you relentlessly in the days during his cycle. If you're okay with it, he'll probably go even if you pass out, but if not is more than okay with separating himself from you while you recover. You'll find him in the corner of the room, watching you with darkened green eyes as he waits for you to come to.
Schlatt (saved the best for last /hj)- Absolute menace number two. Schlatt however, is just endlessly horny. He will fuck you no matter where, or when in front of whoever if you're cool with that. During his ruts though? He's far more tender, far more sincere. While normally Schlatt can be pretty demanding and domineering, he shows his soft side during this time, how he craves to feel you take him and how desperately he wants to mate you and make you truly his. Maybe even start a family.
#bat writes#bat squeaks#anon response#dsmp smut#mcyt smut#dreamwastaken smut#georgenotfound smut#sapnap smut#eret smut#awesamdude smut#karl jacobs smut#dreamxd smut#schlatt smut#foolish smut
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OM Demons & Their Broadway Duets
A.k.a the duet you two perform together that’s just a lil bit too on the nose
LUCIFER
You cannot tell me that he’s Not the same person as Hades
Mans has shit to do!!
But that doesn’t stop him from wanting you one bit
He knows he can seduce you, and that’s exactly what he will do
Also has that Stunningly deep voice thats just perfect for this roll
Enjoys making you squirm on stage with his words and voice
Probably circles around you whilst singing
10/10 very hot
Will def invite you to see him after the performance for some quality time
MAMMON
The exact kind of greedy, insecure loving he needs
He wants to sing more because “The Great Mammon deserves the spotlight”
So he sings Elphaba
Tbh, finds it really therapeutic to express his feelings for you so wholly
LOVES that its so intimate; he gets to hold you, with an undeniable excuse!
Gets so flustered during rehearsals
Only makes him love you more
Listens to it often, cause it makes him happy to think of you
He will deny this
LEVIATHAN
He would have died if it was a romance duet, c’mon guys
He was struggling getting on stage as is
So getting to pretend to play video games, right next to you in stage while talking about how he hates everyone else?
Perfect
Has the audio clip of you saying “is it really true, i’m your favourite person”
Listens to it daily
Actually has an Amazing voice, holy shit
It’s Your song and no one else can sing it with you
Probs get the matching pac-man tattoo from the original musical
SATAN
As said before, a hopeless romantic to the core
Thinks this entire musical is god tier
The only one to know and love the entire musical connected to your performance
You see it together “as research” before doing the scene together
Perfect on stage, as expected
Probs cups your face for a Significant portion of the song
Loves being to protector, instead of the persecutor; like he is so often made out to be
Will sing it to you quietly as you slow-dance in his room in the early hours of the morning
Wants it to be the first dance at your inevitable wedding
ASMODEUS
Guess who’s back on their asmo-is-baby bullshit
Mans relates to Audrey So Hard
So its only right he plays her part
You are his Seymor
He tries not to think about it, or else he’ll cry
Thinks its a really beautiful song
Don’t tell him the ending of Little Shop of Horrors, he’ll be devastated
ADORES being on stage, makes every minute of it
Kisses you as soon as the songs over, so deeply and passionately
The audience goes wild
Both of you are grinning wildly
BEELZELBUB
He’s more than happy to sing a song about loving you in front of as many people as you want
Honestly just happy to be spending time with you
Sings Zoe, because he just wants to reassure you that he loves you
Like Lucifer, has a beautifully deep voice
Constantly checking you’re not as insecure as Evan
Makes sure you know he loves you, even if you aren’t insecure in the slightest
A custom bed needs to be built for the two of you to sit on for the scene bc he’s so Large
Puts his heart into the line “I don’t want you to fix what I’d rather forget”, because he needs you to know that you aren’t a replacement for Lilith
He loves you, as you.
BELPHAGOR
Idk what bullying you had to do to get this but go you ig???
Hates JD with a passion
He reminds him too much of how he was during his time in the attic
But it’s almost like a redemption for him; he can do it again but this time he chooses you
He chooses you instead of the anger, the hurt
Voice is probs really raspy because he’s always sleeping
Didn’t do rehearsals, just wung it on opening night
Enforced naptime afterwards
DIAVOLO
Listen, this is Very Directed
He chose this song for a reason; he needs his people to know that loving you is not a political choice
He just loves you
Relates more to Alyssa, but sings Emma for impact
Probs doesn’t have time to be doing something like this??
Barbatos is On Him for the overdue paperwork
But this is Fun
And it’s with You
He loves preforming
Probs has a good vibrato too
Post show fancy dinner date 💕💕
BARBATOS
l i s t e n
Mans is perfect for Warner
Is more than happy to let you have the spotlight
Loves being able to say he loves you so plainly
Sometimes the song makes him think about the realities where you stayed in the human realm
It makes him grateful that you chose the Devildom
That you chose him
But he tries not to linger, because you both have a song to do
Master of honey tea before going on stage
Warm them vocal chords UP
Always praises you on how wonderful you were the second that mics are off
#obey me#obey me shall we date#obey me headcanons#obey me x reader#lucifer x reader#lucifer#obey me lucifer#om mammon#mammon x reader#levi x reader#om leviathan#om satan#satan x reader#om! asmodeus#asmo x reader#om beelzebub#beelzebub x reader#belphie x reader#swd belphegor#shall we date diavolo#diavolo x reader#om barbatos#barbatos x reader#Spotify
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Ooh the backstory for the comic sounds so cool! Could you maybe post the short story?
Sure, I'll put it under the cut!
Keep in mind the comic is an adaptation so the story had to go through some changes.
File info says this was made during quarantine which definitely explains why I can't remember writing it
My sister--and most people in our village, in fact--think that my child is not my own. One would assume it was because of the incident a month after my daughter’s birth, where I walked into her room only to find a fairy flying out the window, a bundle in her arms.
But that’s not why my sister thinks my daughter is fae, because I didn’t tell anyone about that incident. Instead, my sister says it’s because my child is acting odd. It’s a logic I can’t understand, since all children are strange to me.
I love the way they approach the world with a mix of naivete and eagerness. I’ve even met children that don’t realize that a scrape or scratch is supposed to hurt until you look alarmed. They have no understanding of common sense, because everything they do is for the first time in their life. They’re honest, harsh, and innocent in a manner that is gradually clogged up with new responsibilities and knowledge as they grow older.
Their world is limited, and as such they completely permeate it. It’s fragile and destructive in a way I don’t think can be replicated, not after that window of early childhood has passed.
I see it in every child, and my daughter does not seem any more unusual. But my sister insists that there is a difference, and shakes her head whenever she thinks it’s relevant.
My child has broken the table. Not much, she just jumped on the top one too many times and its leg splintered. I’m not going to get it replaced, or get it fixed, or at least not immediately.
She got in a fight with some other children in town, they said something that she just couldn’t understand and she lashed out with a stick. The other kid only had a red mark on his skin from the impact, at least.
My daughter hates being around others, and spends most of her time back home, where it’s quiet. I once tried taking her to the market and she broke down crying, sitting in the middle of the road. I consoled her there, crouching in the dirt path, and tried ignoring the judgemental stares from people passing by. She would rather spend hours on end at the edge of the forest. I don’t let her explore on her own, and when I’m gone the others say she always stands just before the trees become too dense and stares off, wistfully.
She’s a picky eater, but a very hungry one. I can’t find a consistent set of taste, and each new meal feels like a gamble of my time, but I have to take those chances because I can’t have her eating only eggs and milk for each meal of the day.
She doesn’t like being touched, reacts to my fingers as if they’ve given her rashes, and for the longest time I felt lost because I didn’t know how else to comfort her.
(I found my ways eventually. When she gets upset, I take my grandmother’s woolen scarf from its rack and wrap her in it. She loves running her hands along the threads.)
After long days of gathering food and walking from errand to errand I’m woken up in the middle of the night by her, and we both struggle to go back to sleep from her nightmares. When she was a baby she wailed as loud as she could, because she knew doing that would bring me to her. Now I’m afraid that I won’t hear her and she’ll think I left her alone on purpose. My friends comment on the bags under my eyes always getting darker. I know they’re trying to remind me that it’s a bad thing.
They call her a changeling, something that has replaced my real baby. The child I gave birth to is out in those woods, the stories say, maybe dancing with fairies or being sacrificed to the devil. But in the meantime, they say I am left with a parasitical replica, a creature that saps me of my energy, food and time.
I sometimes wonder if they’ve ever had a child before.
I do my best to brush off the people in town, but my sister is more insistent. I know she’s just being protective since my husband’s passing, but something snapped in me with the way she spoke. I yelled that the stories of the fae were all hogwash, and she asked me how I could be so sure. So I told her the truth:
I had already seen the fairy.
I had returned home early from the market, and had seen my daughter sitting at the edge of the forest, like always. Her hand was raised to the air, a single finger stretched parallel to the ground. This didn’t seem out of the ordinary to me, and I was about to head back inside and prepare dinner, when I saw a flicker of movement.
A tiny sparrow emerged from behind a tree, and settled on my daughter’s finger.
It was difficult to see her face from my angle, but just from the outline of her cheeks I could tell she was grinning from ear to ear. The bird whistled to her, and the child gave a raspy, unpracticed melody in response. She moved her hand around carefully, not wanting to startle the bird, but a part of me knew that something as simple as a jolt wouldn’t make the bird go away.
The bird was only there for a few minutes before it took off and vanished back into the forest. So my child sat up, stained in green but not caring, and ran back to the house. I entered shortly afterwards, acting casual. She didn’t know I saw her, and she didn’t tell me about the bird then, so I can only wonder how many times the bird had come before.
Still, gradually the two of us came to a common understanding: she figured out I knew about the bird, and I knew that she knew.
I hadn’t fully realized we’d had this agreement until my daughter stepped into my house, sharp distress twisting her face. She raised her tiny fingers to show blood spilled on them, but not from any wound of her own. She told me the bird had been missing feathers, had perched on her finger with only one leg, and its song was weaker than before. Her bird calls had already greatly improved, so she imitated the bird’s pained song for me, just to make sure I understood.
She wanted to follow the bird into the woods, see that it’s alright. I crouched down with the scarf, wrapped her in it, and told her that I would find the bird myself.
So I wandered through the dark woods, the sun already starting to set, a torch in hand and a cloak on my shoulders. I heard a whistling in the woods, and the melody rangs familiar. The bird was still singing, and it didn't sound any weaker, but my daughter has always been more attentive to details; I trusted her.
I kept walking, kept following the bird, and for brief flickers in the treetops I saw flaps of wings. It was flying slower than usual. It ducked behind a tree, and when I stepped around to keep my eye on the bird, I saw a child.
It was not my child, but another little girl of a similar age, one with brown hair closer to my own than my daughter’s fiery red. Patterns were dotted across her arms like that of a sparrow’s wings, but her skin was also spotted with bruises and scratches, twigs and leaves and mud in her hair and stuck to her body. She didn't seem to be in pain, and I wondered if anyone had told her that those scratches are supposed to hurt. She hugged the tree, perhaps as a shield or perhaps as comfort.
I crouched down, and kept my voice quiet. “Hello.”
She stepped back a little, keeping her eyes off of me.
“Are you the one who plays with my daughter?”
More silence. I swallowed, my throat already dry. “She considers you a very good friend.”
“She’s my best friend.”
The girl’s voice was rough and unused, but that similar constriction in my chest came when I heard it, and I fully realized that this is just another kid I was talking to. I told her what people call me. The girl gave no response, but I could tell that she was relaxing.
“Are you a fairy?”
The girl nodded. “I can turn into a bunch of different animals.”
“Oh? Like what?”
“A cat, and....a dog, and, uh...I’m a sparrow a lot.”
“Do you like flying around?”
To my surprise, the girl shook her head. She told me she likes landing on my daughter’s finger. “I like singing with her,” she said.
I asked her why she doesn’t transform into different animals to do so much more, and the girl looked at me with the most genuine and honest confusion I’ve seen. She didn’t understand the other options, because this was the only one that mattered to her. Her scope was so small, but she embraced it so wholly that I couldn’t be upset. “Are your injuries okay?” I asked instead.
There was a slight bob of her head, one I almost didn’t see in the dark. “They’ll get healed up.” She pointed over her shoulder to a small ring of mushrooms behind her. I know a fairy circle when I see one, and I nodded in understanding. I left her to vanish in the fog of that forest.
I returned home to my daughter and told her the bird is okay, and will come again tomorrow. She didn’t make a relieved expression or gesture, but gave a very quiet and polite “Thank you,” so I know that she was grateful.
Some of the townsfolk think I’ve had my real child switched with an anomaly, a magic changeling. When I first met the bird, I thought that perhaps she was the changeling that was supposed to replace my child.
But whenever the bird appeared again, I made sure to leave some bread and milk for her, as well as leave our window open, in case she ever needed to rest at our home. My child came to me, wanting to sew a pillow for the bird to sleep on. The snacks I left out became more and more elaborate, from a small bit of porridge to pieces of a cake. Some days I would wake in the morning early enough to see that bird curled up in the roughly made pillow of my daughter’s.
I didn’t even think twice before I moved the pillow to my child’s room, setting it next to her head. I watched her and the bird snore peacefully, and I watched as the bird’s feathers slowly retracted and its silhouette expanded in the faint morning light.
It wasn’t until I saw the two children, holding each other tightly under the warm blankets and roof of their shared house, did I realize that both I and the townsfolk were wrong.
No child of mine had been replaced, nor were they meant to. I simply had two daughters.
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Wendigo Connor
You and Connor were on your way to a party the other assassins were throwing. Connor didn't want to go there at first, but after much persuasion, he agreed. He didn't enjoy these things very much, and he didn't feel very comfortable around so many people.
You followed the forest path that the assassin knew like your shoes. Although she was not enlightened in any way, that did not hinder you in any way. You were holding his hand and talking to each other.
Connor told you about his clan's Halloween customs and the creatures called wendigos that were originally supposed to be in these woods.
Some parts of his story were quite creepy, especially when the wendigos were the first people who became monsters eating other people.
You were halfway there when you heard a strange growl. You automatically approached Connor. It didn't like it either. No ordinary animal sounded like that. And even though he knew what it could be, he didn't want to scare you unnecessarily and instead hoped you'd escape it.
You walked on and the growling stopped for a moment when it sounded again and with it, two lights appeared in front of you, glowing eyes.
They were slowly getting closer to you and the growls were getting louder as well. Soon the monster in front of you took shape. It was a black tall creature with an animal skull instead of a face, sharp teeth and antlers.
An eerie energy radiated from him that sent chills down your spine. Connor pushed you behind him to protect you. Over his shoulder, you saw the monster tilt its head slightly to the side before drawing its sharp claws.
The creature in front of you lunged at the assassin, but he slightly pushed it away. You knew Connor was strong, but this surprised you. The two fought, tugged and tried to beat the other.
The monster was growling at you, but you had the impression that the assassin was growling as well. As they were engaged in battle and their powers seemed to be balanced, they slowly moved closer to you.
You backed away until you tripped over a stick and fell backwards. You didn't even bother and rather shuffled off to the tree, where you probably wouldn't disturb them and where you felt safe.
As you fell, the assassin turned to you for a moment, and you were taken aback by the sight alone. He looked as if he had partially become the same monster he was fighting.
After some time, Connor finally overpowered the creature and it fled back into the woods in fear. You had the impression that the assassins would have preferred to chase after her, but instead, he stayed. He turned to you and walked closer to you. He crouches down to you and stops.
That was the first time you'd seen him like this. Two horns grew from his head, which reminded you of bison ones. One of them was broken. His whites were black and his irises shone gold.
His mouth was half open as if he wanted to say something when you noticed his inhumanly sharp teeth. In addition, his fingers were blackened, as if burned, and looked more like claws.
Despite all that, however, you earn concern and fear in his eyes. It wasn't the eyes of the monster you thought of, but the eyes of your friend.
"Are you hurt?" he asked worried but even though he wanted to make sure you were okay he kept his distance.
"I'm fine" you replied and before he could react you wrapped your arms around his neck. His skin was cooler now, but his heart was still warm. “Thanks for saving me,” you added, kissing his cheek.
"I... Um..." he was speechless and even in the darkness you could see how his cheeks darkened. You had been together for a while, but these little gestures always got him. "Am I not scaring you?" he then asked nervously as you pulled away. He still looked weird, but he didn't scare you.
“Not at all,” you shook your head. “I'm just curious if you'll ever tell me about it,” you said calmly. You didn't want to pressure him in any way. He must have had his reasons for not telling you.
“Thank you,” he smiled weakly before looking at you. "You know I would never hurt you?" he asked vulnerably.
"I've known that for a long time," you replied and took his hand. “It's just that this is kind of new,” you hinted at his appearance. Connor just nodded his head that he understood.
During the journey back, the assassin turned back into a human and talked about himself and the fact that his clan was all Wendigo. He even told you about how he lost part of his horn.
It was when Charles Lee and the other temari wanted to find their village. He refused to tell them the truth and so his horn was broken. Even then he didn't say anything to them and they stunned him.
In addition, he mentioned that the person who attacked them could have been someone from his village. This is what they become when they lose their humanity. After that, they become real monsters that are aggressive towards absolutely everyone.
It was completely new to you, but you knew and told him right away that you would never allow something like this. You will be there for him and whenever needed, you will remind him why he should not give up his humanity.
You listened to him and whenever you sensed that he was getting sick of talking about it, you squeezed his hand to show that you were there for him.
Assassin's Creed Masterlist
#assassin's creed x reader#assassin's creed#wendigo connor#connor kenway#connor x reader#ratonhnhaké:ton
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Hi! Can you please do a Nico fic where the reader is someone in the team’s sister like Jack’s or Jesper’s? Maybe the reader and Nico like each other or are already secretly dating and the brother is super protective?
You and Nico have only been dating for around 4 months , you both told your brother Jack a month into the Relationship. You and Nico were a Little nervous to tell him that you were his sister and Nico being his teammate after all, but Jack took the news quite well. He knew Nico was a great guy but Jack always had a fear of you getting hurt. Even though you were a year older than him
Nico and Jack started living together during Jack's second season with the devils, so you were around their apartment a lot. But one day you and Nico got into a little bit Of a disagreement.
“Nico I don't understand why you can't take a day to come to this event with me” You said “It's important to me, I'm getting an award for my work!”
“Y/n its the middle of the season i'm busy you know this!” he groaned. Nico hated arguing with you, it made him even more annoyed.
“It's 2 hours of your time Nico, that's all I ask!” You told
“And I told you I have an interview I cant Y/n I just can't I would If i could” He spoke
“Then do it! Reschedule the interview” you whined
“ I can't I just cant, I've had to reschedule this interview three times in the past”his voice rose as he spoke only making you raise yours
“You know how many times i've Canceled on friends or postponed plans to go to your games sooo many times Nico” “Y/n I kno-” But you cut him off “No Nico you clearly don't know”
There was a long stretch of silence, you both just standing awkwardly in his apartment Until you walked over to the kitchen counter and grabbed your car keys and made your way to the door.
“Where are you going?” Nico asked chasing after you
“Out” was all you respond with
“Keep your phone on so I know you're safe” yes you too were In the middle of an argument but that doesn't mean that he's not going to make sure you're safe “I love you” but the only response he got was you slamming the apartment door in his face .
Nico sighed rubbing his hands in his face
“Fuck” He Whispered
He turned around to the sound of one of the bedroom doors opening, Seeing Jack in the doorway.
“What the fuck did you do man” He asked. Nico walked to the kitchen counter leaning up against it.
“You know how Y/n got that award for her project at work?” Jack nodded in response “Well it's tomorrow but I have that interview, the one i've Had to reschedule three times and if i cancel it will look bad” Nico explained
Jack paused before be reapsoned “I think your a fucking Idoit”
Nico was shocked at Jack sudden choice of words
“You'd rather go to an interview than go to your girlfriends and my sister award show, You know how many times she has canceled going out with her friends to go see your games” Jack told him
“I know I just-”
“No Nico you don't know, She goes to every single dinner, game and event that involves you,You have to cancel stuff too” He told Nico
Jack was right and Nico knew it, Nico knew how many times you had to cancel plans with your friends, sometimes even getting into fights with your friends cuz they were upset that you would cancel plans to go to one of his games.
“Fuck” Nico groaned
“Yea fuck is right so before she gets home your gonna make a call and cancel the interview and when she does get home your gonna Apologize?” Jack said. Nico nodded in response as Jack walked back into his bedroom.
Nico did end up making the call and canceling the interview. The people on the other line of the phone were quite annoyed but Nico had to do it. Now, he was nervously waiting on the couch for you to come home. Around 45 minutes later the apartment door opened and Nico was met with a still Very annoyed you, you looked and saw Nico sitting on the couch and quickly made a beeline for your guys' bedroom not wanting to talk to him still.
Nico quickly stood up and followed you into the bedroom calling your name but you wouldn't turn around.
“I canceled the interview,” He said. You stopped moving but didn't turn around so Nico kept going. ‘You were right you have canceled more things in this Relationship and that's unfair I haven't been putting 100% in when I should have been Im sorry”
you slowly turned around to look at Nico
“Thank you, That's all i wanted” You told
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A sweet but slightly sad moment
From Since I First Saw Your Face by Stavia Scott Grayson (@artemisastarte) - to give you some cheer (long post btw 🤭)
For the people who haven't read this yet, it's written from Holmes' point of view.
It's the Christmas season, and Watson has managed to get Holmes' permission and acceptance even, to fill 221B with Christmas cheer and candies for Baker Street's unofficial detective force 😉
They don't attend church, but on Christmas Eve, Holmes walks into their drawing room and sees Watson looking through a Bible which once belonged to his grandma.
Watson tells Holmes sadly that he used to believe. He used to believe everything, but the 'belief was beaten out of me quite soon, in fact'.
Holmes comforts him, saying that many people find themselves in their situation, especially as they begin to see that sometimes, religion is an excuse/driving force even for misdeeds - how can they still believe?
‘And if we replace religion with the Darwinian model, it seems to lead to a grim end,’ he observed. ‘All nature striving for survival, at the expense of others. Red in tooth and claw. What of goodness then, Holmes? What reason can there be for selflessness, if it brings no advantage to the individual who practises it?’ What moral code can a man follow without a deity?’
‘You must look into Winwood Reade with me.’ I retrieved my copy from under my chair (how did things always find themselves there?) and showed it to him. ‘Perhaps we could take a healthy course of philosophy together, Reade and Feuerbach, not to mention Kant, as an antidote to this intolerable deal of seasonal sentiment and sugar.’ And then, seeing the hurt in his face that he could not conceal, I thought myself a brute. ‘No, no, I did not mean that, Watson, truly I did not mean it like that. I am a cross-grained creature enough, but not such a brute as not to feel. I am most terribly afraid of sentiment, you see. It – I feel things – I find myself moved – perhaps more than I would wish to be moved – and, and, well, I would not wish you to think me unmanly. Please, my dear fellow, don’t let my careless words hurt you. I – I am –dash it, it is difficult to say this, but, but, well, I have not had such a happy Christmas for many years. I am really very –‘ I looked around at our home, ‘I am quite con – so content here in, in our home.’
He closed the little Bible, not without a regretful caress of its cover, and rose from his seat to replace it in the drawer of his desk. Mute with distress now, I handed him my book to replace his, and he clasped my shoulder kindly.
‘My dear Holmes, you meant no harm. It is I, on the contrary, who am too sensitive on this subject. I fear I am dragging you into all sorts of sociabilities and expenses you would not go to if it were not for me, and I feel rather guilty, d’you see? But is it so much to ask for? Food for the hungry, and a little cheer; the sweetness of Christmas song,’ he nodded to the window outside which a group of waits was butchering the melody of ‘Lo how a rose e’er blooming’. ‘And I know you do not like sentiment. You are a good fellow to indulge me in mine without quibbling.’
‘If more of us valued food and cheer and song above gain and gold, it would be a merrier world,’ I said, blinking hard against the moisture in my eyes. ‘But as for sweetness of song, Watson, even you must be able to hear that those waits are deplorably flat. Hand me my violin, dear chap, and I shall show you how the immortal Bach intended his chorale to sound.’
but holmes calling himself a cross-grained creature is peak entertainment 👻
#sherlock holmes#johnlock#holmes x watson#artemisastarte#since i first saw your face#chirstmas#religion#love
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