#can you tell I’ve thought about this for years
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You're Mine
Azriel x reader
~
You threw back another drink at Rita’s trying to drown the way you were feeling. You sighed as you leaned against the bar. You watched as Azriel leaned into Elain to make sure she was okay. You felt your heart crack a bit. You made sure your walls were up mentally and physically. You didn’t want anyone else to know how you felt about the shadowsinger. Mor was the only one that knew and you wanted to keep it that way. You closed your eyes centering yourself. When you opened them again, you locked eyes with those hazel ones you have loved for the last two hundred years. You gave him a smirk as you turned for your next drink. You felt a presence beside you.
“How are you holding up?” Mor leaned against the bar with you.
“I’m fine, Mor. Nothing a little of this can’t take care of.” You swirled the amber liquid around in the glass. Mor rolled her eyes at you.
“Maybe, you should tell him?” You felt yourself freeze. She was the only one that knew the mating bond snapped, for you anyway. She was there when it happened. Your jaw tensed.
“I’m not telling him.”
“Why?”
“Look at him over there with her. He’s infatuated, he looks like he’s in love and in the last three hundred years I’ve been with you all he’s never looked at anyone else like that before. Anyone.” Mor pursed her lips. She was about to say something when she saw it about the time you felt it. A shadow wrapping around your ankle. You smiled a bit. You let the shadow slither up to your shoulder.
“Hello there. I’m fine, you can tell him.” You gently caressed the little shadow before it scurried back down your side and over to the shadowsinger. You looked over to find shock on his face. Did he not know one of them came over to you? You quirked your eyebrows but quickly turned back to your conversation with Mor. “Anyway, I’m gonna go. I leave in the morning.”
“Leave? Where are you going?” You downed the rest of your drink before you answered her.
“The continent. Rhys wants an eye on the queens since we haven’t heard from them since before the war with Hybern.” Mor’s eyes widened.
“Are you going alone?” You nodded. She let out a scoff. “I can’t be here right now, Mor. Not while all of this is going on. I need to go somewhere, do something. I won’t be gone long, just a day.” She sighed. She knew.
“Doesn’t mean I like it. Just be safe, don’t die.” You laughed at her. She gave you a smile back.
“I’ll be fine. Don’t worry.” You gave her a small hug and made your way out of Rita’s. You were halfway down the street when you heard, and felt, a gust of wind.
“You’re leaving?” Shock covered your features as the shadowsinger appeared behind you.
“Jeez, Az, a little warning please.” He waited for you to answer his question. “Yes, I’m going home.” He gave you a look. You sighed before answering him. “I leave in the morning. I’ll only be gone a day, two at the most.”
“Where?”
“The continent.”
“It’s dangerous.” You tilted your head at him.
“I’ll be fine, Az. You’re the one who trained me. I’ll be fine.” Azriel didn’t seem so sure. You giggled as one of his shadows wrapped up your arm. You smiled down at it. “Tell him I’m going to be fine.” The little shadow seemed to disagree as well. You let it wrap around the hand you held up to it. You let it wrap around your hand and slide around for a while until it seems to be content.
Azriel was looking on in awe. He didn’t even ask his shadows to do that. They did it of their own accord. He had never seen that happen until tonight when you were at the bar with Mor. The way you giggled as it wrapped around your hand made his heart squeeze in a good way. Once his shadow seemed pleased it slithered back down your arm, leg, then scurried across the small space between the two of you.
“Are you sure you don’t need anyone to go with you?” He wasn’t sure why, but the thought of you going that far alone made his entire body ache. You reached out, giving his arm a squeeze.
“Az, I’ll be fine. Don’t worry about me.” That signaled the end of the conversation. Azriel sent one of his shadows with you to make sure you made it home. You let out a loud laugh, “Thank you, Az. Goodnight.” The shadowsinger didn’t reply. He just waited until you made the short walk back to your apartment.
~
You were not fine. Someone had tipped the queens off about your arrival. You didn’t know who it was, but you sure as hell were going to find out. You were taking a quick breather in a cave that seemed to be safe. That’s when you felt it. A little shadow crawling from behind your wing. You let out a sigh of relief.
“Hey there. He just couldn’t stand that I was going alone could he.” The shadow seemed to do a little dance confirming you were right. “I need you to tell him I was ambushed. I don’t know who did it and it could be more than a day until I’m back. He cannot come and cannot send anyone. I’ll make it back.” The little shadow slithered down to your hand and wrapped itself around it. You gave it a smile. “I will make it back.” It seemed to hear the conviction in your voice. It seemed to hug your hand before it scurried away.
You took a deep breath steeling yourself for what you were to do next.
~
Azriel’s shadow came back to him. He was surprised considering he hadn’t sent any out today. Once back it told him what happened. He swore the entire world stopped at that moment. You were ambushed and you told him to stay away. The worst part is, he knew you were right.
“Dammit.” He made his way to Rhys’s office at the House of Wind to relay what he found out. He did send a few shadows out to see if he could find who ratted you out. Azriel opened the door to find Rhys and Cassian already there. “We have a problem.”
“What is it?” Azriel explained everything that happened to you and how you were holed up in a cave, safe, for now.
“Shit.” Cassian was up pacing before he even finished and Rhys had his head in his hands.
“What was this for anyway?”
“I needed someone to go see if there was any movement from the queens. I was going to ask you, but she volunteered.” Azriel didn’t know how to feel about that.
“Why would she do that?” Rhys and Cassian leveled him with a stare.
“For a spymaster, you sure are dense.” Rhys threw a hard stare in Cassian’s direction.
“For the love of the Mother, Rhys, I can’t not tell him at this point.”
“Tell me what?” Cassian and Rhys shared a conversation he wasn’t privy to. Rhys finally relented.
“She’s your mate, Az.” Az felt his heart drop.
“What?” Rhys and Cassian sighed. You didn’t know Rhys and Cassian knew the bond snapped into place for you. They had sensed something was different. It didn’t take long for them to put the pieces together, although you hid it very well. They let the information sink in for the spymaster.
“She volunteered because of the way you’ve been stuck to Elain’s side.” All three turned to see Mor standing in the doorway. She wasn’t sure if they had put the pieces together, but she knew Rhys, it wouldn’t take him long. Azriel felt his chest tighten. Yes, he had been by Elain’s side the last few months, but she didn’t see him that way, she just needed a friend.
“That’s not, there’s nothing between Elain and me.”
“It didn’t seem that way, especially to her. I tried to get her to tell you, but she thought you wanted Elain. So, she took this mission to get away, even if it was just for a day.” Azriel had no idea. Didn’t even get a hint that the two of you were mates. It made sense though, the way he was around you. He seemed more open with you, it was easier to joke with you. The way his shadows were drawn to you. It made so much sense. The other three stood there watching as all the pieces fell in place for the spymaster. Azriel opened his mouth to say something when one of his shadows wrapped around his ear.
She’s hurt.
Azriel stood up ready to go find you when they heard a commotion in the hallway. The four of them ran out to see what was going on. They followed Naula down the corridor, she led them to the balcony outside the dining area. There you were a crumpled heap on the ground.
~
You heard your name. You looked up to see Azriel, Mor, Rhys, and Cass running toward you. Azriel reached you first. He hooked one arm around your back and the other under your knees lifting you off the ground.
“What a welcome committee.” You rasped. You were breathing hard, too hard. Az watched the pain flash across your face. Your hand gripped Az’s shoulder a little harder. One of his shadows curled around your hand. You managed to smile a little. “Hello again.”
“Where are you hurt? What happened?” You closed your eyes, taking a breath before you replied.
“My wings.” The four of them looked to see the ends of your wings torn and many different spots. You heard Rhys yell for someone to get a healer. “I found out who did it. They won’t be a problem anymore.” Azriel couldn’t help the smirk that crossed his face.
“That’s my girl.” He kissed the top of your head. Azriel carried you to a room, there was a couch. That’s all you could manage to comprehend through the pain. Azriel laid you down on the couch and immediately kneeled down beside you. He grabbed your hand. He didn’t let go. Not when Madja arrived. Not when you nearly passed out from the pain. He was there. Never letting go. Never leaving your side.
~
Madja said to rest for a few days. It was currently day four of healing and you had managed to talk Madja into letting you go home. You were rummaging through your kitchen when you felt it. You giggled as the shadow wrapped itself around your ankle and made its way up your side and perched on your shoulder.
“You can come in, Az. It’s unlocked.” A second later you heard your apartment door open. You turned to see him bringing a couple of bags in. “What’s all this?”
“A few groceries. I thought you might be getting low.”
“Thanks, Az.” You started helping him unload the bags. You were putting them away, his shadow still perched on your shoulder.
“They don’t do that with anyone else.” You turned, giving him a questioning look. “My shadows. They don’t do that with anyone.”
“You haven’t sent them?” Azriel shook his head. “Even the one that was with me on my mission?”
“I didn’t send it. I didn’t even know it was gone until it came back to me.” The shock was evident on your face. You had assumed he sent it. You looked at the little shadow still perched on your shoulder. “They only do that with you.”
You felt your heart stutter at the look he gave you. That’s when he felt it. The bond snapped into place. It had snapped for you long ago, but you could finally feel him. Everything.
“Az,” you didn’t know what else to say as he made his way to stand in front of you.
“You’re mine.” You felt the bond glow within you, but you had to ask.
“What about Elain?”
“What about her?” He didn’t mean it in a mean way, but he wanted you.
“You two just seemed so close.” You didn’t know how else to say it.
“I don’t want her. I’ve loved you for so long. I just didn’t think I was enough for you. I’m a-” you placed your finger on his lips. You knew what he was about to say. He was about to repeat what every Illyrian warrior has called him for years. You weren’t having any of it.
“Don’t you dare. You are everything, Az. Everything.” You cupped his face and watched as his shadow crawled across your arm to join the others. You stared into those hazel eyes, losing yourself. You took a deep breath knowing what you were about to do would make this final.
“Would you like something to eat?” Azriel’s eyes widened. He knew you were mates, but he was still unsure if you would accept the bond.
“Really?”
“Really.” Finally he slotted his lips against yours. You felt everything in the kiss. You were his and he was yours.
#azriel x reader#azriel#acotar#acomaf#shadowsinger x reader#azriel shadowsinger#azriel acotar#azriel spymaster#cassian x reader#cassian acotar#azriel x you#rhys x reader#mor x reader
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[Hey, how are you?] Simon Riley*F!Reader
Ten years ago, Simon lost you due to his mistake, and he meets you again after these years of regret.
Hurt and comfort, Happy Ending
“Are you married?”
He always be asked when others see the ring on his finger.
“No.” He answers while taking another sip of his wine, letting the person realize it’s a topic they don’t have the authority to dig in.
He still remembers the vow he chanted as he put the ring on your finger.
The memory is as clear as the day you left the house, and he never saw you again.
It’s his fault, you didn’t shed many tears when he yelled at you, saying that you will never be able to free him from his nightmares, who do you think you are? a fucking philanthropist?
He knew he screwed up everything the moment his taunt escape his mouth.
No, No. I didn’t mean to say that, I need you, I love you, please don’t leave me.
He watched you lower your head, trying in vain to hide your sadness, but your heart was already shattered into pieces, by him, the man who promised to protect you by any means.
I’m sorry.
The words stuck in his throat when he looked at you stepping out the threshold with your belongings.
Please stay.
The greedy wish was buried inside his heart when you stopped for a second. “Bye, Simon. Take care.” you whispered, and disappeared into the aisle.
Ten years, he’s still unable to move on.
He brainwashes himself repeatedly, she will have a better life without you.
Yet he still opens his phone every time he finishes his therapy sessions, looks at your number, and just stares at the screen for minutes.
His thumb lingers on the “call” button but never dares to press it.
Hey, are you doing alright? I’m sorry, I want you back. I went to therapy after that day. I’m not the same person caged in his past anymore.
I miss you so much.
but how selfish he is if he interrupts your life now? Such a nice person like you deserves someone to cherish you nicely, and treasure you with their whole heart.
That’s why he now stands afar from you, watching you behind the veil of autumn’s breeze.
You’re still stunning, time doesn’t deprive your beauty even a bit.
He gazes at you for a long while, and when you turn around and spot him, it’s obvious that you’re in shock and come to a halt.
The world keeps moving, but the time seems frozen between you two, as you both set eyes on each other and never dart.
You head towards him as he starts hesitating to take the first move.
“Hey.” You look at him with a shallow grin on your face.
“Hey.” He mumbles.
The silence fills the air, but no awkwardness, he’s just too indulged in your presence, which he has been dreaming of for years.
Sorry for that day. How are you doing now? Have you married? Have a partner?...
He has too many things he wants to ask, but his thoughts are like matted wool, until his eyes land on the ring on your finger.
“You’re marrie—“ He questions without a second thought, but the words get cut off instantly due to his realization.
because the ring is paired with the one on his finger right now.
It’s not until you chuckle that he’s back to reality.
“Yes, I’m married, about ten years ago? to an idiot man.”
“Why did you marry him? he’s a bloody dork.”
“Good question. or maybe that’s the reason why I married him.” Shrugging, you then meet his gaze with a smile “How about you? Are you married?”
“Yeah, ten years ago, to a woman that’s too precious for me, so I lost her.”
“If you meet her again, what do you want to tell her?”
“I’ve improved. I’ve reached for help and now I’m not the same man anymore.”
“Anything else you want to say?”
“I miss her every single day, and I hope I can have her in my arms again.”
“Well, I don’t know about her.” you step closer to him. “But I’m sure she will love to have some tea with you as her first compensation from you, what do you think?”
He blinks at the hand you reach out at him, and slowly, he takes it into his palms, that’s befitting to drive away the chill.
Your hand fits well in his, like it’s made for him to serve it with all his warmth, and he’s sure that he will never let go of it again.
“My pleasure.”
a/n: lemme give Simon a fucking punch/j
#cod imagine#ghost x reader#simon riley x you#simon riley x reader#cod x reader#simon riley imagine#cod x you#ghost x you#simon ghost riley x you#simon 'ghost' riley x reader#simon ghost riley x reader#simon ghost x reader
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Replaced part two
Omg I’m so upset- it won’t let me tag like anyone with dashes in their name at allll soooo if you commented on that post I am so so so sorry I couldn’t tag you guys
Type: one shot turned more
Part: 2/2
Part 1 here
Masterlist here
Pairing: Azriel x reader/ mystery character x reader
Seriously guys thank you so much- I’m so glad that the first part had so much love and I hope this one is just as good.
“So, what did you need my love?” I lean down to kiss my fiancés temple. He’s stressed, I can tell. His fingers tap away in rhythm with his foot. “Baby- what’s going on? Why are you so stressed?” My hands run down the length of his arms in a soothing motion. “How can I help you?”
The new high lord of autumn’s head meets my shoulder, a small smile gracing his lips. His head raises till his lips meet mine in a soft kiss. “Baby I need you to sit down.” His smile disappears as soon as it came and I frown, moving to the seat on the other side of his desk. I raise my brows expectantly as his hands move to reach mine. “Love- we have a high lords meeting in two weeks time. They have requested it be held here in order to see how I’m handling the court now.”
“Ok? And?”
“Darling I want to introduce you as the new high lady of Autumn. I want you come along.” He sighs, “it means you will have to see all of them again.”
The realization hits me like a ton of bricks. I breath for a moment, thinking about it, it’s been nearly five years since I left, the last time I saw any of them was the battle with Hybern, and even then Eris kept me mostly away from them so that I wasn’t distracted. “I’ll go.”
“Are you sure darling?”
“Very. I want them to see me as the high lady of autumn. Not the girl that left all that time ago.”
He smirks his signature smirk, pride filling his eyes. “Very well. Shall we begin planning?”
———
Everyone has finally arrived- or what is usually everyone, confusion sets in as Eris seems to sit in waiting, an empty chair beside him at the head of the table. “Are we waiting for someone Eris?”
“Yes actually. Shell be here any moment, she likes making an entrance.” Something bothers Azriel with the way the high lord smirks. He didn’t know who was going to walk through that door but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like it.
The door swings open, a woman stepping through, decked in a gorgeous burnt orange dress, green and gold accents around her body, a golden crown, one looking like leaves woven together rests on her head. As her eyes catch Eris’ she smiles. “Sorry I’m late. Hope you haven’t started without me.” She surveys the room before stepping towards the empty seat. Eris stands, going to pull it out with one hand and take hers on his other. The pause for a moment, facing the table together.
“Everyone. I’d like you to meet my fiance and the high lady of the Autumn court. Some of you may already know her.”
As the female turns to kiss Eris, it clicks for Azriel. “Yn.” He can’t help but gasps and that is when it finally hits the inner circle of the night court.
“Hello guys. Long time no see.”
Cassian speaks this time, his brows furrowed and mouth agape, “you- your with him? Your the high the high lady?”
“Yes, in fact our wedding is next month. I am terribly excited. Especially after being named the high lady of Autumn.” She and Eris sit finally, hands staying tied together
An agony Azriel has never felt tears through him as he stares at his mate. She looks back to him as he gasps, clenching his chest wildly.
“Azriel. I’d like to get through my first meeting as high lady. So if you could stop…flailing. That would be preferred.” Yn clears her throat before turning to the others at the table. “I’ve seen some things. I see Koshei. I thought we took care of our issues with him, however I-“
The meeting continues, the night court still trying to process the news. After the meeting is finished, the high lords are given a walk through of the new Autumn court. “Yn. Yn can we speak please.” It was towards the end of the tour, courts had been led to where they’d be staying, only the inner circle trailed behind, minus Morrigan and Cassian who had been dropped off to their respective rooms.
I choose to ignore the shadowsinger, instead stopping at the next door and turn back to Rhysand and Feyre, “You two will be staying here. This castle works much like the house of wind. It will cater to you, we do tend keep things much warmer here for obvious reasons so if you are uncomfortable with the temperature just say the word and it will be brought down by the house.”
“Goodnight Yn.” I nod before turning back to lead the final male to where he’d be staying, Eris never leaving my side. We barely make it three steps down the hall before I feel Rhsyand pry at my mental walls.
‘What do you want Rhysand.’
‘You should talk to him Yn. He’s been devastated since you left and see you with Eris killed him I-‘
I shut it down. I don’t want to hear some sob story from my mate who didn’t even want me till I was gone. “You will be staying here Azriel. What I said to Rhysand and Feyre goes the same for you.”
Me and Eris turn to leave before I’m grabbed by the arm. “Wait. Yn can we please just talk.”
Eris growls. “Get your filthy hands off my fucking finance.”
The shadowsinger seems to get just as upset, opening his mouth to speak before I rip my arm from his grasp and turn, a glare resting on my features.
“Don’t you fucking dare! You have no right- no fucking right to get angry at my fiancée! Do you understand, you didn’t want me and I don’t fucking want you so go wallow in your self pity but stay the hell away from me!” Eris rubs soothing circles on my arm, a glare that could kill sent towards the shadowsinger as he grabs me, winnowing us to our room.
—————
Sooo I hope this lives up to your guys’ expectations!
#acotar x reader#azriel x reader#acotar#azriel#elain archeron#elain x reader#feyre archeron#feyre x reader#nesta archeron#nesta x reader#cassian x reader#cassian#rhysand x reader#rhysand#eris vanserra#eris x reader#replaced#angst#no happy ending
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Stina Blackstenius x Swedish Arsenal reader
request- could u do smth with stina blackstenius where reader is very flirty with stina, making flirty comments and being touchy with her but stina is absolutely clueless and doesnt catch on at all. then reader has enough and just kisses stina ☺️
a/n- i’m aware my fics are pretty short atm but bare with me :) requests are open!!
518 words ———
You always found a way to be close to Stina, you really liked her so you wanted to be around her. You always laughed at her jokes a bit too loud making those around you give you some glares but you didn’t care.
Walking into colney you spot Stina getting out of her car, you run over to her turining into a koala as you wrap your limbs around her. “Hej på dig med y/n” (Hello to you too) She giggles at your current position. “Jag saknade dig” (I missed you) you whispered into her ear, still clinging to her.
Before training, laura caught you making heart eyes at Stina and came over to talk to you. “what’s going on between you two?” she said quietly so no one else could hear. “i wish i knew Laura, i’ve tried so many times to tell her without actually telling her but she’s just so oblivious” Laura places a comforting hand on your back “maybe just use your words” she gets no response, just a knowing sigh.
During training, you being a defender and Stina being a striker, both of you were working together on some drills. As you start defending the ball away from her, Stina accidentally clips your heal sending you straight to the grass holding your ankle. “OMG y/n I am so sorry” she says as she rushes to your side. “Stina It’s okay don’t worry about it, I am fine kärlek” (love). You get back on your feet and walk back into the building with the medics.
Sitting in your cubby with ice on your ankle, the team start to filter in. Stina makes a beeline to you. “How’s the ankle?” said with a sympathetic tone. “Just a little niggle, nothing big luckily” said with a sheepish smile. “I was so scared, wouldn’t want to hurt my best friend” the minute the words ‘best friend’ came out of her mouth, your heart sunk. “Are you okay y/n” Stina asks with concern. You stay quiet for a moment. “Ka jag kyssa dig?” (Can I kiss you?) Stina looks at you for a moment then lightly nods her head. Soon your lips were connecting with Stina’s and your heart felt like it was about to explode. You had waited for this moment for years! You pull away “Förlåt att jag inte borde ha gjort att du inte ens gillar mig” (Sorry I shouldn’t have done that you don’t even like me) “I never said I didn’t like you y/n, I just didn’t know you liked me” as she looks at the wall behind you. “I thought I was making it really obvious, I think you’re just oblivious Stina” you say with a little chuckle. “Y/n is right, you’re oblivious” Frida chimes in after over hearing the conversation.
Everyone starts to leave the changing room, leaving you and Stina. “Well em I will call you later maybe only if you want” you say kind of nervously. “Jag skulle älska det” (I would love that) as she quickly pulls you in for a quick peck leaving you both blushing messes.
#woso fanfics#woso imagine#woso x reader#woso#woso one shot#woso community#stina blackstenius#stina blackstenius x reader#awfc#awfc imagine#awfc x reader
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can you hotd characters (mostly alicent and rhaenrya) when the reader almost passes in child birth? thank youuuu :3
A/N: Yep can do! I’ve never given birth, gotten pregnant nor seen anything resembling child birth apart from the Aemma scene in HOTD so I hope I did this justice!? Sorry this has taken so long!
Character Roll Call: Rhaenyra, Alicent, Daemon, Aemond and Jacaerys (All romantic love)
Warnings: Child birth, talk of infertility, talk of not able to have children, pregnancy, she/her pronouns used in some places for reader, talk of death during childbirth, talk about smut but no smut, dirty talk, a most likely inaccurate childbirth telling, graphic detailing of blood and gore, this is not proofread! (if I miss any please let me know in a way you’re most comfortable!)
Rhaenyra Targaryen:
It was not the typical marriage you and your husband shared. For whilst you had never had a particular fondness for goose, he understood that and went after his own interest in tasting the variety the world provided him with.
So while he was off exploring, you were in the chambers of the heir of the realm. Showing her your devotion in the most unexpected of ways.
Yet soon, after nearly two years of marriage with no children, people were beginning to become suspicious of your womb. More specifically, your husband’s own family. There was talk of them already arranging a second marriage for him as your womb was supposedly infertile. So after a talk with him, you and your husband for a whole of three months, with the help of Rhaenyra. And just when you thought your efforts were unsuccessful, the maester greeted you with a smile, and told you you were with child.
Your lover took the news surprisingly well, as Rhaenyra spent all hours of the day with you comparing possible names for the baby. Your husband had done his part in this game. Now, you and Nyra could spend your days eating the cake and kissing the days away. Acting oblivious to the hateful world surrounding the two three of you.
“What about Aurion?” Nyra suggests, a lazy smile on her lips as she places a fork with a large chunk of vanilla cake on the end between your lips.
“Hmmmmm” You hum, smiling in thought. “Perhaps let’s not raise more suspicions than we’d like my darling. How about something not so Valyrian?”
She laughs, and yet agrees with you with her smile turning strained and sad. Her hand reaches for your own instinctively and you quickly move to grab it and squeeze it tight. “Alright alright! What about Rhys? Ivan? Those are some more boring names!”
You laugh, and yet make sure to note them down somewhere in your head. You discuss names of girls also, just in case. Yet months later as you sat screaming your heart out on the birthing bed, those names disappeared as pain became all you know.
“You must push my lady! The baby is trapped you must push!” One of the ladies in waiting says as she positions herself by your bottom half.
“I’M TRYING TO FUCKING PUSH!” You scream, sweat dripping down your face as your eyes screw shut. Your voice loud as the pain spreads further through you, till eventually you feel it all over.
Soon, the pain that blooms all over becomes numbing. Especially, when you feel your eyes becoming heavy, eventually shutting so all you see is black and the world becomes silent.
“What is happening?!” Rhaenyra screams, her face becoming pale as memories of her mother come flooding to her head. “What is happening to her?!”
“The lady is haemorrhaging!” One of the maesters yells, a multitude of rags of all sorts in his hands as he attempts to stop the blood from further dripping onto the floor. The babe that had quite literally fallen out of your whilst you had fallen unconscious was quickly taken away by the ladies in waiting to be cleaned and attended to. So now, all focus was on keeping you alive. By order of the future Queen of Westeros.
It feels as thought it had taken hours to stop the bleeding. Yet that meant nothing till Rhaenyra who waited anxiously by your side with your hand in her own. Her fingers poised by your pulse so she can reassure herself that you were truly living beside her and not dead like her mother.
By the time you had finally begun to rouse from your deep slumber, the day had turned to night. And all those in the room were exhausted from the effort it took. The maesters in particular, who knew that if they allowed themselves to slack, the princess would soon be upon them with the fury of the dragons.
“My love….” Rhaenyra whispered, at this point uncaring of the multiple people in that room who’d scuttle themselves to her father and the hand at the slightest chance of a scandal. “Do you hurt?”
“As much as childbirth allows me to be in…” You laugh, yet wincing as soon as your body moves. “I am glad you were here… i fear if you weren’t-“
“Do not speak of such things!” Rhaenyra begs, her hands clutching your own tightly as if she was fearful you would drop dead. “I forbid it!”
“Do you say that as my future queen or as my friend?” You murmur, both knowing the true meaning of the word.
“I say that as both..” Rhaenyra whispers, kissing the top of your head as one of the ladies in waiting comes in holding the bundle containing your baby.
“It’s a daughter, my lady.” She says, walking over and placing her in your arms.
“She’s beautiful…” you can’t help but say, brushing away one of her curls from her eyes. You can feel Rhaenyras eyes on you, and so you take her hand and somehow manage to pull her closer.
“I wish to name her Arya.” You firmly say, locking eyes with your daughter who begins to cry in hunger.
“Beautiful…” Rhaenyra says, unable to tear her eyes from the sight of you beginning to breastfeed your child.
Alicent Hightower:
Even while Alicent was married to the king, yours and hers unique relationship had never once wavered. When Alicent had her children with the king, who did not even enter the room when the time of birth came, it was you who held her hand in place of her mother’s, and murmured soft words of encouragement and affirmation into her ears.
While you had your own, even though your mother was there to be by your side as a place of comfort, it was only Alicent name that sprung from your lips. Begging for her to come closer so you can hold her hand and beg her for mercy and encouragements.
Most recently, your third pregnancy had been said by the maesters to be the most difficult one yet. Pain was all you knew through those last few months. Pain in your legs from when you were forced to walk to the dining hall. Pain in your belly from where not only did the baby insist on kicking but also from the cramps the maesters insisted did not need to be further looked at.
Yet Alicent was always close by ready to lend a helping hand whenever the moment allowed her too. According to her, she still has the old treatment the maesters had prescribed her with just in case she fell pregnant again after Daeron.
“You… my utter darling, are my world!” You moaned, eyes shut closed as Alicent carefully massaged the soothing ointment into the base of your feet. She continues to help whenever she can. The ointments and herbs she providing you with being much better than anything the dreading maesters could’ve ever given you.
Yet like most treatments, the effectiveness wore off. Soon, not even the most obscure of medicines would work on you. Pain was always lingering in every part of your body. Even in places you had no idea were on your body.
“I just want this babe out of me!” You groan one night while Alicent once again attempts to stop your pain using this time a supposed miracle working ointments from Lys. “Nothing is fucking working!”
“Well complaining won’t solve anything!” Alicent attempts to jest, though quickly haults any other further attempt after a harsh glare worthy enough to rival the Strangers is sent hastily her way. “Perhaps it is the gods way of telling you how strong you are for having this child? A way to tell you how powerful your son will no doubt be in the future?”
“I would not care if I was to birth a dragon for gods sakes I only with for it to come out of me so I can no longer feel so fucking horrible!” You groan, “I have already told my lord husband that this shall be my last time on that fucking bed! If he even brings his cock within inches of me it’s being torn off his body and fed to your children’s dragons my love!”
“Oh hush now!” Alicent scows, a rare bout of anger coming about her. “The gods have their meanings and their ways! Though I for once shall agree with you. You will be having three beautiful children my love, and that is all you need. Perhaps you could give birth to a daughter and we can betroth her to Aemond?”
“Perhaps…”
By the time the ninth moon has passed, it is quick to say that you were very much serious about this being your last child.
“GET THE FUCKING CHILD OUT OF ME!” You scream, the maesters wincing at the volume rivalling that of a child being born. Something your own child it seems is refusing to let happen. “RIP IT OUT IF MUST BUT IF I DIE I SHALL HAUNT THIS KEEP FOREVER MORE!”
“There shall be no talk of dying on this bed from you!” Alicent yells, her grip on your hands almost as tight as your hand on hers.
The maesters voices cutting through though as they announce how they can see the babes head. Meaning to much your relief the pain will hopefully be soon over and you can hold the thing that’s been hurting you for nearly nine moons in your arms to give it a stern talking off.
You make sure to push hard when the maesters tell you too, even pushing when they don’t so you could hopefully get the babe out quicker. But even when you feel the babe quite literally fall out of you and hear its cries, the maesters make their own cries far more audible.
“Alicent what is happening?!” You ask, feeling what feels like warm liquid gushing from your lower half. Only she does not respond. Only turning paler than the sheets that with horror, you realise are turning a deep red from blood. Your blood.
And It only turns worse when you realise just how faint you feel. A once iron grip you had on Alicents hand turning weak and feeble as your eyes slowly begin shutting.
It’s all a blur when you feel your body waking. Yet still your eyes have not grown enough strength to open, so it’s with great horror you realise you are still conscious but are practically unable to move. You are alive but it is as if your body is dead.
You can hear Alicent beg for your sake. And you realise with your heart beating frantically in your chest that you can also hear her hushing a baby you had not realised was crying this whole time. Your baby.
“Your mother is sleeping now…” You can hear her say, tears building in your eyes when you hear how damaged her voice sounds. “She is strong, your mother. She will wake and see what a beautiful baby boy she has waiting for her… it won’t be long now. I promise.”
You try as hard as you can to open your eyes, yet your attempts prove to be impossible. Yet somehow, you manage to utter two words to your lover while your lower half screams in pain at you.
“Thank you…”
Daemon Targaryen:
It was no surprise to anyone when after a few mere moons after your marriage to the rogue Prince Daemon, you were announcing you were pregnant with his child.
The king had said his congratulations and announced a feast in his nephew or nieces name, and even Daemon had to admit the whole ceremony was wonderful.
Yet like everything in life, all good things must come to an end. The announcement of the first babe of the rogue prince turned sour as news quickly spread about how much pain you were in from them.
The babe refused to let you rest for even a second. All it did was kick and kick, and make you feel shitter than any other possible ailment in the world. You almost felt like having a conversation with the stranger after one too many bouts of particularly bad spells.
“You must let your muña rest ñuha trēsy… let ñuha jorrāelagon rest…” Daemon murmurs one night against the swollen bulge of your stomach. The warmth his dragon like body providing you with being possibly the best thing he’s given you since the day you married him.
“You know I do not understand a single thing you say in that tongue of yours…” You say, eyes closed as you relish in the lack of kicking and blinding pain. If it wasn’t obvious before, it was at least obvious now that your child had chosen favourites.
“Just because you cannot understand something does not mean you cannot understand the beauty of it.” Daemon murmurs, his voice gentle and nurturing as he continues attempting to soothe you.
His words to others would be considered strange and out of character. But as you’ve come to realise over the time of your betrothal and marriage, even though that shared time has lasted around only a year, you know deep down beneath the hardened dragon scale skin of his is a heart that bears solely for the life of those he loves. The latest addition being of course the babe of his own blood nestled in your belly.
It was such a lovely moment, and yet it seemed that would be the last of its kind the rest of the time your babe was steadily growing inside. The more time passed the less Daemons unusually warm body worked in soothing your unrelenting aches and pains.
“Are you okay ñuha jorrāelagon?” He asks one evening, his brows furrowed in what has become a near constant state of stress and worry for you. For is has now nearly been a full nine moons of pregnancy, and with that, it means the babe will hopefully be born.
“Unless you can get this child out of me with no pain,” You grunt, mentally cursing Daemons cock for being what it was. “Then I suggest you leave me be and allow me to wallow with the seed you yourself placed within me!”
For the first time in a while, Daemons worried stricken face turns cheery as he laughs at the familiar wit of yours that helped him to fall in love with you in the first place. The rest of the day is filled with similar circumstances, as while the babe continues to make your days a misery, Daemon is right by your side never ever venturing too far away from you.
You suppose it is why he insisted on being by your side when two days pass and you were on the birthing bed, his hand locked firmly in yours while your screams echo off the walls. You swear you can feel your cunt tear and drip with blood, yet with how much you screamed you honestly couldn’t be able to hear it.
“Please Daemon!” You beg, a multitude of tears running down your face. “Please make it stop!”
“It’ll be over soon ñuha jorrāelagon…” Daemon tries to comfort you with soft words and a tight reassuring grip, and yet his face clear as day is struck with fear and nervousness.
“You said that hours ago Daemon!” You sob, screaming even more as you feel the dragon spawn within you break even more of your innards. “I just want it out!”
“You will my love you will! You are strong and brave and a fighter! You will not die today do you hear me!?”
Daemons hands envelope the sides of your head to force you to look and him, and yet he’s utterly horrified when your eyes roll to the back of your head and your hand that was once clutching his shirt for dear life falls limply by your side.
Daemons words reach no bounds as he insults the maesters and common people alike, swearing if his wife was to die then all shall die with her. So even in the seven hells his wife can make sure she achieves the justice she deserves.
Yet it somehow enrages him further when by the next hour, the maesters have managed to successfully take out the babe from within you, and present it to him as his first born, whilst other maesters make quick work of stemming the bleeding and disposing of the evidence.
Daemons eyes watche as a wet nurse moves to take his son into her arms and takes him into another room so she can clean his son, and it’s not until they’ve left does he begin to shout.
“IS THAT ALL IT TOOK? MY WIFE WAS SCREAMING IN AGONY ON THE BED, BLOOD POURING OUT, AND YET IT IS ONLY WHEN YOUR LIVES ARE THREATENED DO YOU HELP HER?!” He yells, his hand clutching the hilt of dark sister as a reminder that he has the upper hand. He’s the prince of the realm. The rogue Prince. If he wanted to kill people then he will fucking kill someone.
The maesters faces turn ashen as they stand there, practically shaking as they fear for their lives. Daemon is almost tempted to actually kill them. To send a message that no one fucks around with the rogue princes wife. That is however, until he hears a stir behind him and feels a familiarly soft hand clutch his own that previously had clutched dark sister.
“My love!” Daemon breathes, his face one of pure joy as he drops the sword hastily and moves to clutch your still weak body in his arms. “I was so worried!”
“What have you done with my Daemon?” He can hear you say, the laughter in your tone surprising considering what had just happened.
“Don’t worry ñuha jorrāelagon, he was here a few moments ago, about to kill some pathetic fucking maesters…” Daemon begins, turning with a dark glare when he sees the said maesters still standing where they were before in fear. “But I suggest they scarper before dark sister becomes hungry for rat blood once more!”
This time, Daemon doesn’t turn back to watch them all practically run from the room. Not when there is someone in front of him so much more important.
“Where are they?” You say, your movements still sluggish as you wince while trying to turn your body to look around the room.
“Where is who ñuha jorrāelagon?” Daemon asks, preoccupied with finding the cup of milk of the poppy one of the maesters had said was somewhere in the room. A hum of satisfaction slipping his lips when he eventually sees it and grabs it, before placing it by your lips to try and force you to drink it.
“Where’s our baby?” You murmur, wincing again when the bitter taste of the drink runs down your throat. “I want to see them!”
“I will get him for you jorrāelagon.” Daemon says, moving to the direction of where the wet nurse had taken his son too. When he does find her, he does not care for whatever she has to say. Instead just moving to take the boy in his arms and walk back to you, who’s already sat up through the pain ready to see your son.
“Oh Daemon…” You breath, your eyes focused solely on the babe in his arms. “He’s beautiful…”
“He takes after you…” Daemon murmurs back. A soft smile on his face as he moves the boy into your arms. “What shall we name him my love?”
“What about Aenor? First of his name…”
“I love it…” Daemon murmurs, kissing the top of your sweat soaked head and moving to perch against the edge of the bed transfixed by the holy sight in front of him. “I love you…”
Aemond Targaryen:
Your husband wasn’t anything except attentive. Every moment after finding out you were with child he spent within meters of yourself. Even when you slept, his hand was always placed on your stomach.
“I would never allow myself to live if you were hurt ñuha vēzos.” Aemond would murmur against your skin, amongst other Valyrian words this time against the curve of your slowly swelling belly. Each one sending your skin further and further aflame with desire and love for your husband.
The whole pregnancy though, for the most of it, was smooth and ordinary. The baby had begun to kick a little after the fifth moon of your pregnancy, and Aemond was eager to experience every part of it. Yet when you’d passed the eighth moon, that was when everything began to turn on its head.
Pain was blooming in your stomach nearly everyday, and even with the maesters having to forcibly pour milk of the poppy down your throat, you had resisted firmly, not wanting the babies health to be put as such risk especially so close to the due date. Especially when you have been in the presence of the king, who openly abused the opioid near daily.
Yet the maesters with stern eyes and unwavering faces, claimed that if anything, it was the pain inside you that would risk the babies health. So whilst you wished pain on the maesters, they stood there stiffly with a near full to the brim cup of the drink. They watched every time you were needed to drink it. Even going as far as to make you open your mouth wide to make sure you weren’t resisting.
Aemond though like he had done so earlier in your pregnancy, was never as far as an arms reach. He never said anything to maesters face to face, yet he certainly did not hide his anger from you when the two of you would lay in bed holding one another in a close embrace.
“If it weren’t for the babe, I’d strike them where they stand…” He’d begun to murmur. Starting his now usual evening moan about how according to him, they weren’t good enough to care for his pregnant wife. Sometimes it’s sad as you realise how he at his lowest points believes even he is not good enough for you.
“Don’t let that stop you…” You indiscreetly murmur back, a clear glare on your face as you try to drink something to wash away the bitter taste of milk of the poppy.
“Dont you tempt me now ñuha vēzos… I very much can and will make my way to wherever those men lie and slaughter them before it’s time to break fast tomorrow.” Aemond chuckles, a comforting hand on your stomach where near instantly you can feel the babe kick twice. As if the babe was eager to say hello to its father.
“That’s right ñuha valītsos… kepa is here…” Aemond murmurs, his deep voice sending shivers down your very spine. If you weren’t already eight moons pregnant, you very well would be eager to take him right at this moment and take his seed deep inside till it takes root.
“You are getting distracted valītsos…” Aemond says, smirking at the dark blush that spreads on your face. It matters not how long you’ve been married to Aemond for, since he’ll always manage to find a way to fluster him. You suppose it’s as fun for him as it is for you to fluster him. Though you suppose by doing that is how you ended up in this position in the first place…
“How can I not, when theres such a beautiful man in front of me?” You say, grinning triumphantly when Aemonds own face turns a light pink. It’s not as dark as your own, but even seeing Aemond blush without him trying to hide himself away counts as a win to you.
The two of you revel in the rare soft moment between you both, and it’s not long before you both fall asleep holding each other.
It felt so perfect at that moment, as all the previous worries about the babe swept away. The both of you honestly didn’t think the whole ordeal could get worse. That is however, until your waters broke and you were lying on the birthing bed. Your screams breaking Aemonds heart as he tries his best to comfort you to the best of his ability.
Yet his controlled anger and frustration comes out in waves as your screams continue further and further into the day, and the maesters it seems are no further to helping you than from when they started.
Aemond withholds every single urge to kill them for their insolence for your sake, given that they are supposedly they best men available to help bring his and your child into the world. Though when he sees your eyes roll to the back of your head and your body go limp after attempting to push the babe out again per the maesters instructions, all hell broke loose there and then.
“What have you done!?” Aemond yells, his voice whilst commanding also torn with how scared he feels at that moment. His uncles wife, and his grandsires wives had died in childbirth attempting to bring a child into the world. He cannot have such a thing happen to you.
“You are meant to help my wife not fucking kill her! If she is to die today then so shall all of you! Your blood shall stain these walls if she dies do you all understand!” He yells, tears brimming in his eyes from how emotional he currently feels. Aemond refuses to let go of you hand as the maesters scurry around like rats to appease him.
It’s not long before the sound of a babes cry brings him from his sorrowful thoughts.
“It’s a daughter my Prince.” One of the maesters says, before handing her off to a nearby maid presumably to go clean her off of all of your blood and other bodily fluids Aemond most certainly does not wish to be thinking of right now.
Instead, Aemond chooses to grab a lone damp cloth free from any uncleanliness, and carefully uses it to wipe away the sweat on your face. Yet even with all of that Aemond still believes you to be as beautiful as when he first ever saw you.
The sound of your blood onto the floor that Aemond had tried to ignore for his own sake earlier finally stops, and he’s grateful that the maid comes back with his daughter then so he doesn’t have to think about any of that.
“I will give the baby to a wetnurse my Prince for her first feed.” The maid begins to say, about to walk away. That is however before she feels the princes hand clutching tightly on her shoulder forbidding her to leave.
“She will feed from her mother.” Aemond says firmly, moving to take his daughter away from the silly woman’s grasp. “‘Twas a decision me and my wife made and you shall respect that. Now leave.”
The maid stands there a moment surprised, even looking to the maesters for guidance in the situation. But when Aemond looks up at them with a cold glare on his face and a sneer on his lips, both the maesters and the maid make quick work on leaving the Prince with his daughter in his arms and his unconscious wife by his side.
He does not know how long it is till you finally begin to stir, and yet it does not matter. All that does matter is that you woke at all.
“How are you feel ñuha vēzos?” Aemond murmurs, his daughter in one arm as in the other he holds the cup holding the milk of the poppy he makes you drink. Making sure you don’t waste a drop.
“Like I’ve given birth…” You simply say, suddenly focusing on the baby in Aemonds arms. “Is that-“
“Yes ñuha vēzos. This is our daughter.”
Aemonds hands her to you, and when she begins to stir it’s almost instantly you bring down your dress and place her near your breast. Hissing slightly as she begins to immediately nurse from it.
“She’s beautiful.” You find yourself saying, refusing to take your eyes from her. “She looks like you sweet husband.”
“She may look like me but I believe she has her mother’s beauty.” Aemond says, moving to hold your hand in his. “What shall we name her my love?”
“What about Elaenor?”
“It’s perfect…” Aemond says, kissing the top of your head. “She’s perfect…”
Jacaerys Velaryon:
It appears Jacaerys was ever as loyal as they say. As even after being married in an arranged fashion, and finding out you were pregnant with his child after consummating the marriage, his presence was never far from you.
When in the middle of the night sickness plagued your body, it was Jace who was right there next to you with a bucket in hand. Even going as far as to hold your hair back with his hand so no sick could ruin it.
“Is this what it is like for all women?” Jace asks, attempting to smooth you while you once again throw your dinner up into a bucket, groaning whilst you do so.
“Only the lucky…” You moan, about to turn to look at your husband before you find yourself immediately needing to throw up again.
At first, it was strange to you to have a husband be so close and eager to be by up side, given the stories that your mother had told you. Yet now, you honestly could not think of your marriage without the little services Jace provides you with.
Whenever you find yourself craving a certain food, no matter how bizarre or disgusting it may seem to him, Jace was always willing to call a maid and inform her to make it for you.
“Thank you husband.” You sigh in delight, chewing on some honey dipped carrots in the comfort of yours and Jaces bed.
“It is no problem my lady.” He says, awkwardly perched by the edge of the bed covers while he watches you eat.
“You can come closer Jace…” You laugh, patting the side of the bed indicating your want to have him closer to you. His warmth comforting. His smile kind. “You have seen me naked before. I do not think you have the ability right now to be shy. Call me by my name Jace. It is only fair since I have been calling you by yours.”
“Of course… wife.” Jace smiles, a strange girlish sounding giggle leaving your lips as he moves himself closer and opens his arms so he can enclose you in them. “Has the babe been bothering you much today?”
“Only as much as usual.” You sigh, choosing to invite his pointed stare in honour of eating another one of your special foods. “Though not as much as I have been eating these.”
“That is good.” He simply says, softly kissing the top of your head as he touches the skin of your arms with his hand. “That is good…” He repeats again more gentler than the last.
The next few months all went smooth as they could go. You were still throwing up in the mornings and some evenings, and experienced some horrible cramps once every few weeks. What was the most difficult and painful thing you had to endure however, was the birth of the babe itself.
It felt like it was ripping out of you. Screams pierced the air as it felt as if the babe was determined to take your insides out with it.
“It hurts!” You cry, holding Jaces hand so hard he has to hide any audible winces in pain, as whilst he is not the most experience man with women, he knew at that moment to not even think about saying his own pain. Not when he could tell his pain was like a mere headache compared to your own.
“It will soon be over!” Jace says, trying to squeeze your hand in an attempt to comfort you and let you know he is here. But with how much pain is flowing through your system he honestly doubts you can feel it right now.
“I just want it out!” You yell, screaming again as the maester intruders you to push. It’s almost like a rhythm, as when the maester tells you to push, you push. And when you push, you scream at the top of your lungs. It’s like that for what feels like hours and hours on end.
Yet soon, it’s finally over, as the maester finally steps away from you holding a crying baby. The maester looks at him, and shows him his crying daughter.
“A daughter my Prince.” The maester says, placing her in Jaces arms. Your husband’s eyes unable to tear away from the smallest child he thinks he’s ever seen. Possibly smaller than Joffrey from when he saw him as a child.
He turns to you to show you with a smile on his face, but that soon disappears when he sees your face.
“My love?” Jace begins, looking worriedly at your pale sweat layered skin. “You do not look well…”
You try to answer, and yet you even with all your strength you cannot even find yourself able to move your lips, your head even.
That though is when Jace turns his own head and sees the frantic moving of all the maesters and ladies in the room. It’s when he hears a most frightening of sounds. The sound of your blood falling and dripping onto the stone floor. It’s almost worse when he sees how deeply stained your dress is by your own blood.
He’s frozen as he stands there, completey horrified by what he’s seeing and hearing and yet he cannot find himself able to move. His daughter still in his arms, only it’s when she begins to fuss and make sound does another lady in waiting take her into her own arms to put her from the room.
The maesters are beginning to yell now. At the ladies in waiting mainly but to each other a handful of times too. They sound too loud. But that may be because Jace hasn’t said a word since you collapsed against a bed. He does not know what it is he should say. He does not know what it is he should do. His mother has insisted he be in the birthing room alone with his wife, and yet here he is standing alone in the middle of it looking like an idiot.
Yet while he’s thinking, it’s like some sort of driven force when he suddenly realises he’s been holding your hand. Your skin feeling cold and damp from sweat, and Jace stays there the entire time holding onto your hand and staring at you face. He commits to memory the rise and fall of your chest as you breathe, and the feeling of your heartbeat in his hand. He blocks out the sounds of chaos and panic, and chooses to focus on you.
Jacaerys slowly watches the colour bloom back into your face when the maesters finally manage to stem the flow of your blood and keep it inside you. Yet when he sees you open your eyes sluggish and exhausted, he cannot help but have his heart speed in happiness and joy. The smiles may have to come later though.
"My love, how do you feel?" Jace asks, still clutching your hand as he edges himself closer to you.
"Like l've given birth.." You simply say, even smiling as you slowly turn your head to look around the room. "Where is the babe?"
"She is with one of the ladies in the other room, if you wish me to fetch her I shall." He asks, watching as your eyes widen and your mouth fall open in what he can only say in a comedic fashion. Not that he'd dare mention that here though that is.
"We have a daughter…" You say, so silently that he barely even heard you. "Yes. Yes I want to see her!"
"I will go get the lady." Jace says, letting go of your hand for the first time in hours and admittedly as soon as he escapes your sights wipes the thick layer of sweat lingering on his hand on his shirt.
When he arrives back with his daughter in his arms though, he cannot help but smile as he watches your entire face light up at the sight of the babe with what could only be utter awe.
"We did that..." You say, reaching out and immediately rocking the small girl when she's in your arms. "We made her..."
“Yes…” Jace can’t help but agree with you, placing his hand on you as he sits beside you on the bed, watching you as you hold his and your child closely to your breasts. “We made her…”
#rhaenyra targaryen x reader#aemond targaryen#house of the dragon#aemond targaryen x reader#aegon targaryen#aemond x reader#Aegon Targaryen/reader#aegon targaryen x reader#Rhaenyra targaryen/reader#daemon targaryen x reader#daemon Targaryen/reader#alicent targaryen#alicent hightower#Alicent Hightower x reader#Alicent Hightower/reader#jacaerys velaryon#jacaerys x reader#Jacaerys Velaryon/reader
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Your sister is
You were sitting in your room with your teammates you play from Barcelona u19s you are from England but you got an offer to play for Barcelona and you went for it your phone started to ring it was your coach
"Hey Sam can you come in a bit early tomorrow please "You look confused "Yeah can I ask why have i done something wrong " "You have done nothing wrong I just want you to meet someone " " ok see you tomorrow " " bye sam "
you get off the call and your teammates look confused "What's coach want " " he wants me to come in tomorrow " "Why what have you done now" "I don't know he wouldn't say "
the next day
As coach asked i'm here early I wonder what it's about "Sam" I looked up to see coach and jonatan the manager of Barcelona women's team " hey sam can we talk " i sat there for a minute " yeah " yous go into the meeting room " sam we have been looking at the way you play and how you play and we would like to ask if you would like to be apart of the senior team " i sat there in shock " i would love to "
time skip a week you just got drooped off at the tranig ground i walk in to the entranced and i see some of the team they were looking at me jonatan walked up to me " hey sam how are you " " im ok a bit nevers "" youll be ok if you get stuck ask someone for help ok " " i will "
you get changed and go on to the feled no one on the team came up to you you didnt mied tho he introduced you to everyone and the first thing you were donig in training was working on your passes you were in a team of lucy kira alexia patricia amd sandra it was the end of training you hadnt talked to anyone you all when to the changing rooms
you go to your cub and get your bag you get changed you open you phone for a minute and see 3 missed calls from your sister you text her
" hey sis what you want" she texts back strat away " why didnt you tell me you had signed a contracted with barcolana " someone says your name so you put your phone down you look up and relise that it is alexia
" hey new be " you lok at her " yeah " " we all want to get to know the new player so we were wondering if you wanted to come over to one of our house and we will all meet there " " yeah "
5 hours later you are stud in front of lucy and kiras houes you knock on the door and lucy answers it " hey come in " you go in and go to were the rest are they all say hi mapia was the first to ask you a question " so sam how old are you and what's your last name " you look around you and see all eyes on you " " I'm 17 and my last name is erps " lucy is the first to talk “ i thought you looked familiar your Mary’s sister " you look around the room " yeah she’s my sister "
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I know this is crap I wrote it about a year ago I’m trying to get ideas of what to write but so far I’ve got nothing so sorry
#women’s football#women’s soccer#women’s super league#woso community#woso imagine#barclays wsl#wsl#woso x reader#barcelona femeni#lucy bronze#mapi leon#mary earps
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pairing: Suguru Geto x F!Reader
word count: 9.7k
contents: Canon compliant up to the events of JJK0, cult leader!Suguru, naive reader, slight age difference between reader and Geto (5 years), reader can see curses/has cursed energy but it is kept intentionally vague
cw: dark content | emotional manipulation, dubious consent, voyeurism, oral sex (m!receiving), spit, violence, descriptions of anxiety, mentions of religion and religious imagery, mind fuck-y
notes: so this is a remaster/full repost of unkindness that was on my old blog! i only got up to like the third segment in that post so i figured why not do it all at once. thank you for reading if you do and i hope that you enjoy my little story! ♡ | crossposted to ao3
When you were eight years old, sitting in your mother’s lap as she combed through your wet hair, you remember telling her about a recurring dream you had been having for weeks. You were nervous to tell her, your little hands balled into fists as they rested against your nightgown clad thighs.
“A raven,” you recount to her as she nods and gently uses the bristles of the comb to detangle a knot. “Bigger than any bird I’ve ever seen is in this dream every night, flying around over my head.” Your mother sighs and reassuringly pats your head. You hear the spritz of a spray bottle from behind you, a synthetic green apple scent filling your nostrils.
Telling her filled your stomach with anxiety, an issue you didn’t know you had at the time. You figured the world was just scary back then. You wish you could go back and tell yourself how right you were. About how scary the world is, anyway. To tell yourself about how everything will eventually end up likely wouldn’t change the outcome but at least you could say a few things.
“The raven comes to the ground eventually. He doesn’t fly over your head forever, instead he glides by your side.”
“The visions you’ve seen are real, you aren’t crazy.”
The most unbelievable thing of all?
“You end up in love and you end up losing yourself along the way.”
Back then though, you only had your mom and her words to illuminate the darkness you felt lurked around every corner.
“Have you ever heard of omens?”
Shaking your head, you turn to look at your mom who is tapping the edge of the comb against the heel of her hand. She’s chewing the inside of her cheek and you can tell she’s deciding what to say next to comfort you. Your mom has never been good at this kind of thing, a woman who never envisioned she would have a child with so much angst and fear.
“Sometimes we receive signs that something is going to happen in our lives even if we don’t understand them,” she starts. You hear her mouth open, as if she wants to add something additional, but you hear it snap shut as if she thought better of it. You nod once, signaling your understanding and she gets back to work at the stubborn tangle at the base of your skull without another word shared between the two of you.
You hate that this is the most vivid memory from your childhood.
You hate that you still have the dream.
You wake with a gasp, looking around and blinking as warm morning light filters through the window. Feeling around the bed, you wonder if Suguru is already up and moving for the day as your hands touch the duvet where he should be. It’s cold, as if nobody was there in the first place. Knowing that may have been the case anyway, you sigh and rub your hands over your face.
“Suguru?”
His name leaves your lips in a tentative manner and you look around the room to make sure he isn’t looking at the early morning sun or standing there watching you sleep. No matter how much of your life you spend with him, you’ll never get used to the feeling of those black diamond eyes following you everywhere you go. But finally, you are seen.
Four years spent with him and no one sees you like he does.
You were 18 years old, a few months from graduating high school, when Suguru approached you. The sight of a stranger raised your hackles, scared of the world at large at that point in your life, and you were concerned trouble was coming for you. All of the omens in your dreams would finally come true at the hands of this beautiful man, rising to his full height which is nearly towering over you. His hair was shorter then than it is now, just past his shoulders and tied in a neat half bun off of his face.
He looked like less of a god now than he did then but you knew it. The omnipresent feeling of him sticks in your bones. It’s the confidence that makes you stand with your back straight, that guides you through the worst of the days where he’s nowhere to be found.
Unable to find him, you shuffle back to the futon and lay down amongst blankets that smell like him. You’ve never been able to place the scent but you know it’s his. Wrapping yourself in the duvet, you let your mind wander back to all of those years ago.
“I know this seems sudden but I wanted to ask you about your gift.”
Mention of your gift, not that you’d ever call it that, makes you freeze. He notices your expression, wide eyed and haunted, and he fights the urge to smile at you. Just as he and everyone else suspected, you have no idea what you’re capable of. It would be a failing worthy of death to let Gojo find you first. Suguru couldn’t risk the bird dog finding his canary and dropping her off, bloodied and broken, on the doorstep of the Sorcerer community.
He wouldn’t allow it.
“M..my gift?” You repeat with uncertainty and he nods, bun bobbing against the back of his head as he does so. The situation is withering, a handsome stranger asking you about a secret you’ve kept hidden for your whole life while the sun beats down and makes you sweat. You wonder if you’re about to be killed.
“You are an exceptional young woman, do you know that?”
The background noise of the world fades out, the sound of the spring birds chirping disappearing as you blink once, twice, and you notice those dark eyes fixated on you. You blanch and avert your eyes. Were you even allowed to look at him? Dressed in such nice clothing with such a regal demeanor? Shaking your head, you play off the awkwardness with a humorless chuckle.
“You must be looking for someone else, sir.” Bowing your head as a sign of respect, you turn to walk away. “I’m sorry for wasting your time.”
Before you can turn on your heel to walk away, you feel a large palm rest on your shoulder. You take note of the weight of it, the feel against your bones, and you wonder why this is happening to you? You are so afraid but you can’t run, you don’t have the guts for it. What do you do now?
Nothing. You do nothing, just as you’ve done your entire life. You let this strange man grab you, hold you, speak to you. Humiliation rises like bile in your throat and you turn to face him, astounded again by his beauty. The sunlight catches his dark eyelashes, warmth emanating from him. How can you walk away? You won’t walk away.
“I don’t want this to be more strange than it already is,” he starts, voice deep and dreamy. You could get lost in the baritone and the way it wraps around you but you choose instead to focus on his words to try and understand what he wants from you. “But I know you have something nobody else has. Abilities.”
He’s correct but you wonder how he could possibly know about your struggles. You have kept them to yourself for years even to the detriment of your own well being. Your mother and father both assume you’re deranged and there are times where you’ve wholeheartedly agreed with them since you began seeing the things that haunt you at every turn when you were 5.
“How do you know about that?”
The man shakes his head and holds his free hand ahead of him. “Why don’t you walk with me and we can talk some more?”
How can you say no with his hand on your shoulder? Turning on your heel to face him, you keep quiet and wait for further instructions. Your naturally submissive tendencies are serving you well in this situation and Geto doesn't hide his smug smile. You are perfect and he knew it.
As the two of you begin to pick up pace walking side by side, you anxiously keep your eyes glued to the ground. Being able to visualize each of your steps is keeping you calm and if you look down, there's less of a chance you'll see whatever is out there to scare you.
"Look at me."
He doesn't ask, he commands, and you listen. For the first time, you notice something perching on his shoulder. It's formless for the most part and less terrifying than what you usually see attached to others as they pass by you but you're intrigued nonetheless.
"Do you know about that....thing?" Pointing to his shoulder, he nods at you and you breathe a sigh of relief. "You see them also?"
A chuckle is his response and you ponder what it means while you wait for him to clear up your confusion. "I don't just see them, I control them."
The figure disappears quickly and you gasp, searching around your own feet and your shoulders to make sure he didn't order it in your direction to harm you.
"How?"
Despite your trepidation, Suguru can see the way that your eyes sparkle at the thought of someone being like you. He knows how it felt for him, too.
"I can show you and so can my friends." He watches your nose scrunch in confusion at his words and he laughs, amused. The sound is musical and uplifting and you feel yourself lightening up for the first time maybe in your entire life. Knowing you aren't alone has shifted your perspective more than you realized it would.
"There are more of you?"
"A couple dozen, yeah."
Nodding, you think for a moment. What if he can actually help you? What if these people are actually like you? What if you can find a place that suits you for the first time in 18 whole years?
"How can you help me?"
The man turns to you, knowing smirk in place across his mouth. “I can show you better than I can tell you.”
You hate her.
Never in your life has such a bitter feeling gathered in the pit of your stomach. Your face flames every time Manami walks by, you can feel it and you know she can see it. Tonight, you are more glad than ever to be on kitchen duty even if it means having to listen to her cackle from the other side of the wall.
“Geto-sama!”
She sing-songs across the tatami with a giggle as Suguru traipses by en-route to have dinner with the group, seating himself at the head of the table as everyone else files in around it. You fight the urge to roll your eyes from where you’re standing next to Mimiko and Nanako, pouring hojicha into tea cups.
“Geto-sama,” you mock under your breath and Nanako giggles, dishing rice into bowls at your side. The two of you giggle together, a secret shared, as she begins to bring the dishes to the table for service. Sorting your tea cups, you count how many more servings you need as you look around the doorframe to see who is waiting.
Your relationship with Geto’s most trusted inner circle has expanded greatly since you first arrived months ago.
They knew better than to be outwardly distrustful of you. Aside from the twins, every one of them had set out to find Suguru and his group on their own. He found you. He brought you. He touted your abilities long before you arrived.
“She’s the perfect blank slate,” he gushed over dinner one night as the other members of the group listened enraptured. “We got to her just in time, too. My source says that Gojo was planning on paying her a visit.”
Your arrival was underwhelming. Greeted at the end of the footpath that leads to the front door by Miguel, Larue, Mimiko, and Nanako while Manami glowered from the porch with folded arms, you weren’t immediately made to feel welcome by anyone except for Suguru who continued to guide you along the property with your arm looped in his. She was scoping you out, taking an assessment. She believed you to be no threat. She believed wrong.
Tinkering with the last cup on the counter, you take one look into the dining room again and the realization that your usual spot is full makes you chuckle humorlessly. Not that you’re surprised, Manami has done all but piss all over Geto to mark her territory but the sight makes a bitter, sour feeling turn in your guts just the same. Your nose scrunches as if you’ve smelled something bad and you don’t immediately hear when someone else enters the kitchen to pick up the tea cups you are still filling.
“About ready?”
The voice you recognize as belonging to Mimiko calms you and you respond with a nod, wrapping your hand around the warmest cup as you take a breath and plaster a smile on. This one goes to the man himself and you feel eyes upon you as you offer it to him with a bow. His hand lingers on top of yours for a moment and you’re glad your face is pointed toward the ground, your flustered look hidden as long as you don’t make eye contact.
“We’re just waiting on you,” he chides lightly, always a stickler for timeliness. You lift your head to his view enough to offer an apologetic half smile. He pats the side of your face with his tea-warmed hand and your smile grows. Your eyes meet his rich, umber colored pair and you feel at peace. “Manami will be out of your spot by the time you get back.”
A small “oooooooh” breaks out around the table but the tension is quickly killed with a sharp look from Suguru. Everyone quietly begins shuffling their utensils and you don’t stick around to watch Manami’s rejection, scurrying back to the kitchen to gather your own rice and tea.
“I want to share a few moments after dinner, if you’d all like to stick around.”
Suguru’s words inspire nods and happy, affirmative hums and you catch the tail end of them as you settle next to him at the table. Your opposition glares icily from the other end of the table, the same look she kept plastered on her face the day you arrived, and you meet her eyes long enough to offer a sweet smile before bowing your head in thanks for the meal you were about to share.
“I’d especially like for you to stay,” he looks across the table at Manami who nods once before turning back to her plate. Her lips are pursed and her eyebrows are knit together in irritation but smugness glimmers in her eyes. “You too,” he says and you turn your head to see him glancing down at you. Fondness crinkles the corners of his eyes slightly and you shrink into yourself with a nod and a shy smile. “Of course.”
The rest of dinner goes as you’ve come to expect. The twins giggle and joke with every other member of the group and you all sit beneath the watchful eyes of your leader who sips at his own tea with a barely visible over the edge of his cup smirk but you can see it from where you sit. You can see the corners of his mouth upturned just enough it makes your heart flutter in your chest.
He looks down at you and thinks about how vulnerable you look. How little you hide, your emotions and yourself alike. Were you like this before he met you or is this his influence? He takes credit. He knows the way you flash fake nice shit eating grins in Manami’s direction is for his sake. His sweet little bird isn’t afraid to fight and he hoped that would be the case.
“Since we’re all here, I wanted to discuss a few things,” Geto clears his throat and sets his cup on the table in front of him. He basks as he feels every eye in the room turn toward him but none make him feel more intoxicated than yours. When he casts you a glance, you smile shyly. He wonders if you’ll do that forever, look at him as if he’s a savior on a big white horse. He hopes so.
“I want to make some changes in what we’ll all be doing around here,” his voice rings proud and clearly and you fight the urge to prop your head up with your hand girlishly to get a better look at him. A few people shift in their seated positions but you don’t glance around to find out who, gaze fixed upon the person you want to witness the most.
“Manami, your duties are changing.” Replacing the sound of shifting clothing is small gasping and murmuring. Manami has been Geto’s assistant for close to two years, a coveted spot amongst anyone in the group. “You will still be my personal assistant but only for off compound events and daytime hours.”
Grateful for your own refusal to look at the rest of the table, you can tune out the uncomfortable chatting. “I know this may be surprising but we have many things ahead of us we need to prepare for,” he starts and the noise quiets. “Manami is one of the brightest among us and she will excel no matter what she’s doing.”
Hearing him praise someone else makes your back stiffen, the urge to pick at the seam of your t-shirt making your fingers twist in the fabric idly. You’re grateful your grip is beneath the table, hidden from view. No one will suspect how you feel as long as you’re careful but you gasp as you feel two large, soft hands untangle your fingers from your shirt and squeeze them between their palms. Looking up you’re greeted by the handsome, vulpine smile of Geto and you feel another gentle squeeze of your hands.
You take a deep breath and ground yourself, focusing on his words as he opens his mouth.
“You will be my new on-premises and evenings assistant.” Despite your shock and the look on your face that shows it clear as day, you nod. “I would love to,” you clarify and he squeezes your hands once more as he rises and drops your clammy fingers back into your lap.
Standing at his full height, Geto smiles as he looks over the faces of everyone sitting around him. Even Manami is working to hide her pout, looking toward the ground but keeping a smile plastered on her face. You sit with your legs tucked beneath you, a shred of hope illuminating parts of you that you once saw as dark and empty.
You get to spend most of your day with Geto, most of your evenings too. Perhaps in that time he will finally have the opportunity to tell you about your gift. In 6 months you’ve learned as much as you knew the day you arrived but that may be soon to change. Giddiness makes you smile slightly, your face beaming as you keep it looking up.
Suguru extends his hand in your direction and your smile grows wider. Gingerly placing your palm in his, he helps you rise as he places his hands on either side of your face. You strain your neck glancing up at him, you’re only chest level or so to his massive form and you can feel him using his grip on your cheeks to lower your head. Once you’re gazing at the floor his lips graze your forehead and you gasp, fire erupting through your limbs.
“I’m going to teach you so much,” he coos as he uses his grip to turn your face back toward him. His eyes drink in the sight of you - the tip of your nose, the shape of your lips, and he smirks so quickly you swear you only imagined it. His thumbs graze your cheeks before he drops his grip and looks over your head at everyone else. That tall, dark shadow rests directly over you, though.
“You’re all dismissed, thank you for a lovely evening.”
Everyone stands and you stay facing Geto until all of the footsteps have filed out, waiting for his permission to leave next. You flinch slightly when his hands grip your face again, a natural reflex to the surprise of his touch, and he gazes at you silently for so long you stop keeping time. It could have been seconds, it could have been days - you will never know but you will accept it nevertheless.
“Come see me tomorrow morning,” he whispers and you nod. You can see his eyes flit from your eyes to your mouth and you wonder what he’s thinking. He dips his head slightly and you can feel his lips brush gently against yours, a kiss almost too small to be qualified as one. You shiver, his thumbs digging into the plump flesh of your cheeks.
“Yes sir.”
“Say that again,” he mutters against your lips. The vibrations of his words are directly on your skin and the heat that erupted in your limbs before has become a full blown fire, your face hot and your palms sticking together. “Yes sir.”
He presses another kiss to your forehead and releases his grip, straightening his back out as he walks toward the door and offers you a bow of his head. “Get some rest.”
You make certain he’s gone before you touch your fingers to your lips, your eyes fluttering shut as you commit the feel of his soft mouth on yours to memory. You won’t be sleeping tonight.
“Geto-sama?”
The sound of your meek voice alerts Suguru to your presence and he looks up from his usual place by the open sliding door between his room and the porch attached to it, a light breeze blowing his hair off of his shoulder. He looks ethereal and resembles a hero from a book you obsessively read as a child. Rescuing a sweet young woman from a life marred by sadness, the hero hauls her off to a place where she can be happy.
The irony isn’t lost on you.
“I’m so sorry to interrupt,” you start, clasping your hands together in front of you and he rises to standing, elegance exuding from him even in the most mundane of situations. He approaches you and gently rubs the back of your head and you fight the urge to lean into the touch. No amount of him feels like enough.
“You didn’t interrupt anything,” he responds with a serene smile, one you’ve noticed is just for you. He doesn’t smile at anyone else like that, not even Manami, and smugness rises in you for a split second before he speaks again. “What can I do for you?”
Clearing your throat, you look toward the ground and keep your hands linked. Geto recognizes the posture, something you do frequently when you want to speak, and he waits with his own hands joined inside of the sleeves of his yukata robes. He loves how naturally you submit to him, how you won’t even meet his eyes.
“Why am I here?”
If he’s surprised by your question, he doesn’t show it, but he does take a few strides to your side to place a comforting arm around your shoulder. Against your better judgment, you lean against him. Sides pressed together, you’re surprised when you feel the most minuscule squeeze of reassurance. Your heart threatens to burst as he leads you to where he was sitting and invites you to sit across from him, the two of you looking out at the sun setting on the horizon.
“Before I answer,” he adjusts his sitting position and turns to face you. The golden hour warmth hits his face and you swear, not for the first time, you are glancing at a deity. Something, someone, greater than yourself. You shouldn’t be this close to him and you start to spiral but his voice brings you out of your own mind and into reality, your gaze shifting from the ground to him. “Will you tell me why you’re asking?”
Twisting your fingers together and sitting your hands in your lap, you sigh.
You’re uncertain of how much time has passed since you left your old life behind to join him and while you do finally feel at peace with yourself, the natural pull you feel toward the man who brought you here in the first place hasn’t dissipated in the way you expected it to. It feels like an unfulfilled hunger, a need more than a simple want at this point, but how can you begin to tell him that?
“I’m afraid that if I tell you, you’ll see me differently.”
Your words finally get a rise from Suguru and he quirks one of his dark brows. The crack in his cool headed exterior makes you giddy - is that because of you? You’re dumbfounded when his posture changes and he scoots closer to you, your knees nearly touching his. Should you pick yours up and press them against your chest? To quell your own anxiety, you decide to follow his lead. You will only move if he does.
“Nothing you say will change my opinion of you.” He reaches out and touches your knuckles with the tips of his fingers and you feel heat rise through every inch of your body. The touch makes you feel emotional and you break the intense eye contact between the two of you to stare at the ground, hoping it will hide the tears that are threatening to spill down your lash line. “I brought you here.”
Nodding, you lift your still joined fists together and wipe your eyes and down your cheek with the back of one of your hands. Although you are still looking down, you can see Geto moving from your periphery and you wonder what he’s going to do next.
Concerned your display is upsetting him, you sit still and try to regulate your breathing to keep from sobbing but errant tears still flow. You feel Suguru’s finger before you realize what’s happening and you flinch slightly beneath his touch as he wipes the wet tracks off of your skin. He wipes his finger along the fabric of your yukata robe before wrapping both of your fists in one of his much larger hands.
“Please be honest with me.”
Thinking back to what prompted this need for confirmation of what you mean to him, you dig your nails into your palm until you’re certain marks will be left. Manami, someone who spends almost as much time around Geto as you do, comes into your mind and you gnaw on your lower lip as you think about the jealousy churning in your gut. Why does she get to be there to help him make decisions? Why does she get to watch while he’s in meetings? Why did you see her leaving his room last week, hours before dawn?
Knowing it should be you is the emboldening thought you need to open your mouth.
“Do I mean anything to you?”
Feeling him squeeze your fists, the palm of his hand warm and comforting, you release the breath you’ve been holding. For better or worse, you’re about to find out and although your mind is racing, willing yourself to be calm comes easy in his presence. As if you needed further confirmation of everything he has done for you at a moment when you’re demanding something you feel unreasonable for wanting.
“You mean everything to me, you’re our future.”
His confirmation makes you weep. Tears flow freely, dripping down your cheeks and they hit the knuckle of Suguru’s thumb. You should feel guilty, you think, for putting him in a position to have to answer to you but cannot bring yourself to do it. You shouldn’t have had to wait more than a year to know but forgiveness is easy when it comes to him. If anyone should be sorry it’s you for questioning him in the first place and so you begin to ask for forgiveness.
“I’m so sorry for asking, Geto-sama.”
You feel him pulling you into his lap, his strong hands wrapping around your hips and the blood rushes into your face. Perching with uncertainty, your bottom rests against his thigh and it feels natural. All of the yearning couldn’t have prepared you for this feeling and you sigh as he brings one of his large hands to cup the back of your neck, his voice so close to your ear it makes goosebumps erupt across your skin.
“Call me Suguru from now on,” he whispers, a secret for your ears only. You feel his lips press against the space where your jaw and neck meet, another secret for the two of you to keep. Everyone on the compound would view you differently if they knew this was happening but you don’t care. You can’t care, not when he’s running his palms up your waist and unfastening your robe.
The opened door with a view of the outside doesn’t concern you as Suguru’s deft fingers work at the knot keeping you decent, the same breeze that rustles his hair that has always reminded you of feathers blowing across your bare chest as the robe is worked down around your waist. Your nipple stiffens and Geto reaches to pinch it between his thumb and index finger, making you yelp.
“How long have you wanted this, my little bird?” He wonders aloud and you almost feel as if he isn’t speaking to you at all, he merely wants you to listen and to witness. “Since you met me?”
He knows the truth just as he knows the way you’re looking at him. Eyes lidded, cheeks puffed out, lips wet with your own spit. You’re never going to leave his side.
“Tell me the truth,” he pinches your nipple once more and you arch your back, lip jutting out at the roughness of the feeling. Nobody has ever touched you like this before and the feeling is electric. Despite the fuzziness in your brain, the heady arousal clouding your every thought, you wet your lips with your tongue and speak.
“So long, Suguru.”
He smirks knowingly and lowers his head to suck your breast into his mouth, his warm tongue lapping at your skin. It’s nothing short of heaven, you think. This is how it always should have been. His hands travel from the dip of your waist to your hips, pulling the fabric of your robe further down to expose more of you to his hungry eyes. You reach out toward his face, your fingers tentatively brushing against his lower lip and he releases your nipple from his mouth.
“Can I touch you too?”
Another whisper, another secret. A predatory gleam shines in Suguru’s eyes and you wiggle against his lap, keeping your fingertips pressed against his mouth. He puckers and kisses them gently, reaching to grab your wrist. He places your hand against the bulge beneath his robes, covering your delicate fingers with his own.
“You can,” he uses his grip on your hand to press the heel against his hard cock and he hisses through his teeth. You admire the way his throat looks when his head is tipped back in pleasure, his Adam's apple bobbing. How is everything he does so effortlessly beautiful, you wonder. Your attention is recaptured by his voice. “But first, how long?”
Your wide eyed, parted lip expression only serves as further fuel for the blood pumping between his legs. You look so innocent, the same as you did when he felt the first of your defenses crumble, the day he approached you to come with him. It strikes him as funny that both times, your vulnerability is because he has put his hands on you. Nervously, you shift in his lap and he presses you closer to his body to keep you from going any further.
“Since the first day,” you admit, to him and yourself for the first time. He smirks, molding your hand around his bulge and you squeeze. Another hiss from him is all you want, the noise motivating you to offer yourself further. Using your free hand, you slip out of your robe the rest of the way and for the first time, you're bare to his eyes.
"Look at you." Your face heats and you feel your posture collapse in on itself, shoulders slumping after being so seen. "Show me how well you listen."
His command drips with condescension but you’re too awed to notice. When you nod, he gently nudges you off of his lap and you tuck your legs beneath you. Watching as he rises, you stay seated and admire the way those same lithe fingers that were just caressing your overheated skin work at the knot in his own robes.
Those dark eyes glance down at where you kneel on the ground and he gently smooths his hand over the top of your head and slides it into place along your cheek to cup your face. Using his grip to force you to look at him, you do and appear dazed. Transfixed, perhaps, would be better.
“I’ve always known,” Geto unfastens the knot in his robe fully and you gasp at the sight of his nude form backlit by dusk right outside the door. He’s tall and broad and you can’t look away. “That you would realize.”
Pumping his hand along his impressive length, you bite your tongue to keep from eagerly interrupting him. You want to touch him so badly, you have to sit on your hands like a child to keep from approaching sooner than you should. Before you can think any further about his words, he walks a few steps and the sticky head of his cock nearly brushes your soft, swollen mouth.
“I knew it was you from the moment we met.”
He hangs his head just low enough that you feel the words are truly meant just for you and you shiver. As you wait for further instruction, he squeezes your cheek and jaw in the palm of his hand. Your eyes don’t leave him once.
Suguru has always prided himself on his ability to break people down - to their core, their most base selves in every sense of the word. Usually there’s a moment where he can see in their eyes that they have been broken, cloudy and glossy. Yours have looked like that since he met you.
“This is what devotion gets you.” His words make you shiver as he uses his free hand to point the head of his cock at your lips, rubbing the sticky tip along your pouty mouth. Sitting still as stone and waiting for his directions, he gently pulls your face toward his pelvis and his tip pops into your mouth. A long, low moan leaves him and you squirm at the sound. “Just relax for me, okay?”
Suguru releases his grip on your cheek and moves to palm the back of your head, fingers finding an easy and natural grasp on your skull. You take a deep breath and look up at him with watery eyes and he chuckles, shaking his head. “You’re perfect,” he breathes toward the ceiling and you tense slightly as he uses his grip to move more of his cock between your lips. “Stay relaxed, baby. It’s okay.”
Your head bobs slightly and he groans again and you wonder what it will take to get him to make that noise again, the deep guttural moan sending shockwaves to your clit. You want to rut against something, to feel the pressure release in your stomach and between your legs, but Geto is your first priority.
Experimentally, you dip your face toward the dark hair at the base of his thick cock and you gag a bit as more of his length slips down your throat. The grip on the back of your head tightens and he gasps. Lifting your eyes in his direction for just a moment, you whine at the sight of him with his head thrown back in pleasure. Open mouthed, eyes shut tightly, every muscle in his neck bulging - you love it. If you were a more artistic person, you’d find a way to capture this forever but for now you commit the vision to memory and allow him to thrust his hips so that the remaining length of him dips fully between your lips. The tip of your nose brushes his pubic hair and you moan and gag around his length, tears slipping out of the corners of your eyes. Using the thumb of his free hand, Suguru brushes your tears away and it makes you sob and gag.
“Oh, don’t give up on me now,” he comforts from above, brows furrowed as his hips jerk and your nose continually bumps against his pelvis. Finding a rhythm, he listens to the noises coming from between your lips with every stroke and he feels himself getting closer. His balls tense and his cock twitches and he isn’t willing to prolong the wait any longer than it has already been.
“Open up, keep your tongue out, just like that,” he instructs as he releases his cock from between your lips with a sticky and wet pop, jerking his hand along his spit covered shaft right above your lips and chin and nose. “Stay just like ahhh-,” his words are cut short with a pleasured shout as he shoots translucent ropes of cum across your spit soaked face. A splash lands across your tongue and you note the salty taste - something you’ll associate with just Suguru for as long as you live.
Wrist pumping until he feels fully emptied, he takes a deep breath and covers himself halfway. His lean torso is visible and you feel your cunt throb at the sight and part of you wonders if he’s going to do the same for you - if he’ll kneel between your legs and worship your pussy like he hasn’t had a meal in days.
“Miguel, Manami, you can come in now.”
The deep voice filling your ears makes you scramble to cover yourself with your arms, your breasts and back bare to the open sliding door. The pair make their entrance and you keep your face pointed toward the ground, tears spilling hot down your cheeks. Suguru pats the back of your head as he walks back toward the tatami and sits, patting the spot next to him for you.
“Had some other business to take care of, please forgive my rudeness.”
You stay frozen in place but you can feel the eyes of your compatriots on your sticky face, remnants of Geto clinging to your cheeks.
Days spent on the compound are simultaneously mind-numbingly boring and some of the busiest you’ve ever had.
Each morning, you rise with the sun and watch her from the window that is on the wall opposite where you lie. Most of the time you are on your side, arms wrapped around yourself, in your bed or Suguru’s depending on the events of the evening prior. He most often has you visit him in his quarters and you appreciate the near luxurious gift of privacy on those evenings. It’s far less private in your own room, thin walls separating yourself and whoever is in the room next to yours, although everyone seems to know exactly what Geto uses you for and has since your arrival.
He honors you by allowing you to love him, you remind yourself while the dark thoughts swirling in you churn. They’ll be chased away by the sun and by his presence when he returns to his room where you lay. His side of the futon is empty, already made up as if he were never there, so you allow your mind to wander. If he’s feeling generous, maybe today he will have lunch with you or even better, he’ll finally allow you to begin training your cursed energy into something more than a never-ending sinking feeling in your guts.
He promised you a very long time ago he would help you learn about your own abilities. It seems ungrateful to still long for usefulness considering you know exactly what your role is, yet you can’t help but wish to find this key to understand yourself that seems to always be out of reach.
Tracking the time fell away from you long ago, not long after the first time you were intimate with the man you so dutifully serve. Autumn gave way to winter which faded into a difficult to remember spring followed by the once again balmy days of summer. Again and again and again. Cicadas ring out across the secluded surroundings of the compound morning to night. You blink as they instruct you to rise, singing a tune even more rehearsed than the mechanical beeps of the alarms you used to set on your phone. How long has it been since you’ve had a phone?
Does it matter?
Months or years may have passed but you find that you don’t care all that much. Time passes the same without being able to watch it, a voice that sounds a lot like Geto’s reminds you in the back of your head. You are here forever as part of your purpose to serve his goals and time is just a construct.
When’s the last time you felt like yourself?
Last night, when his satisfaction was the only thing you had to be concerned about, you chide yourself silently. You sound ungrateful to your own ears even if you don’t speak, these endlessly appearing questions becoming more aggravating with each second that passes, and you are annoyed and angry when you rise from Suguru’s bed, re-knotting the tie of your yukata. The shoji is open and he stands just outside of it wearing a cotton robe of his own, sunlight silhouetting him.
He’s a God, you remind yourself, though it doesn’t kill the bitter taste in your mouth the way it usually does. Shuffling toward the door, you take a deep breath and call out his name from inside, his face turning toward you. This makes the bitter taste turn into something sweet you wish to taste again, a soft smile replacing your uncertain frown.
“Good morning,” he calls toward you, sweeping his hand out in front of you to indicate where he’d like you to be. You dutifully follow the wordless instructions and arrive at his side with a smile, squinting in the early morning light.
“Good morning, Suguru. How did you sleep?” Smiling down at you, he gently takes your hand. “As well as I always do when you’re in my bed.”
The compliment and his touch make you feel girlish, heat rising in your face. To be a God’s beloved concubine is an honor, one you rarely take for granted even in your weakest moments. He has given you purpose, motivation, and an understanding you would not have found in a world with people who are unlike you.
Yet that same pit in your stomach lingers. He can tell, narrowing his eyes when he glances at you again though you avert your gaze.
“What’s on your mind?”
A tight smile slips across your face, measured and careful; similar to the one you always give Manami when she’s swearing her devotion to him at dinner or after the congregation. You want to tell him the truth, to open up and make him understand your need to be useful, but the words stick inside of you.
“Nothing, I just didn’t sleep very well.”
It isn’t exactly a lie but he knows that it isn’t the entire truth and his blood runs cold wondering what you’re hiding. You are usually so placid around him, glassy eyes and subdued smiles with averted eyes, but he can feel the anxiety flaring from your body. Are you unhappy? Is the spell he has held over you weakening? Does he need to scare you into reminding you of where your place is, the way he has with so many others?
Tutting gently, he wraps his arm around your shoulder and pulls you to his side.
“Speak freely, I value everything you have to say.”
Lulled into a false sense of security, you look at him out of the corner of your eye.
“May I train with you today?”
Suguru laughs, lifting his hand and gently brushing his thumb against your chin. He’s always touching you when it’s just the two of you, hands rubbing your forearms or fingers pressed against your face. He’s a sculptor and what are you if not simply the clay he’s molding beneath his touch, smoothing out edges and reshaping you from the bottom up into something you aren’t sure you recognize anymore which is how he has always intended things to be. His perfect blank slate, he said so many years ago. There isn’t a time where you haven’t proven it to be true even if you need a reminder.
“Why?”
The tone of his voice makes you feel foolish for asking and your sidelong glance turns to the ground beneath you. Subservience is a practice and one you tend to be good at, evidence provided in the form of your refusal to make eye contact even when he begins speaking again.
“I’ll protect you from anything that could hurt you. You know that, right?” He furrows his brow, one of his hands wrapped around your forearm while the other remains on your chin. “You are safe here. Nothing here can or would hurt you, not while you’re in my care. Isn’t that enough for you? You demand training so you can, what? Fight?” Chuckling and finishing with a haughty sigh, he shakes his head. “You don’t have a fight in you, little girl. You never have.”
Defenses faltering, you laugh to yourself and up at him, sensitive eyes once again squinting when faced with the grace of the higher being in front of you. Of course he’s keeping you from having to enter battles you aren’t equipped for, isn’t that what he has been doing this entire time? Protecting you from those shadows that have lurked over your shoulder and kept you from sleeping since you were a child, comforting you, blessing you.
Your rudderlessness isn’t Suguru’s fault, it’s simply your own for assuming you know more than he does.
Nobody knows you like he does. They never will.
“Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”
You call him Suguru in pleasure and Geto-sama in exaltation, raising it to the heavens that put him on the earth. Moving to fall to your knees before him in apology for making him believe his protection isn’t enough, he stops you with a firm hand on your shoulder. His thumb digs into your collarbone, somewhere between painfully and pleasurably, and you remain standing on wobbly feet with a dumbfounded expression.
“I already have. For everything.”
There is so much you’ve done since you’ve arrived, so much to be forgiven for. Questioning him, doubting your place with him, doubting others, speaking with a jealous tongue and thinking poisonous thoughts. You accept his grace with a smile, tears rimming your eyes. You have always been told that forgiveness grants freedom, the wind at your back and the sun on your face. You feel it on this day, gazing up at a man who has saved you time and time again despite your own folly.
Nodding and sniffling, you shut your eyes to stop yourself from open mouthed sobbing in thanks. You don’t deserve this and never have.
“I’m going to tell you something I’ve told nobody else, okay?”
The assertion that he still trusts you despite your disrespect makes you emotional again, eyes opening and tears falling while you nod.
“I love you.”
I love your devotion to me, he means, though you’ll never read between the lines to consider that the truth is that you are just a pawn to a man you’ve dedicated your existence to pleasing. Your body, your words, even the way you enter a room have all been carefully trained to suit him. You’ve been broken by his hands and he is always in a hurry to remake you, fashioning you into something once again useful.
“That’s why you’re here, little bird. To be safe and loved, not to fight or grow jealous or be angry with me. Are you angry with me?” You shake your head quickly, leaning into his touch with furrowed brows. He drops his hand from your chin and wraps his arm around your waist. “Never, Suguru.”
“Then don’t ask about training again, understood? Trust me to take care of you.”
And trust you do, nodding and finally letting that open mouth sob escape. He does a bit more tutting and his large hands paw at your body, yanking at the knot keeping your robe closed, roughly cupping your breast when the fabric falls open. Tears drip down your cheeks and onto the back of his hand, just how he likes it, and his tongue pokes out from between his teeth as he glances down at you.
“Do you trust me?”
This isn’t even close to the first time that he has asked but he needs to know just how many pieces he has smashed you into. He flexes his hand, squeezing your breast, further punctuating the point he’s trying to make - every little bit of you is his to have, to control, to make, to break, to feel.
“More than anything, Suguru, I swear.” Your legs ache to once again fold and bring you to your knees, the way you best know how to prove your regret, but you remain standing, lower lip quivering. “I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”
Your apology is a mantra you repeat as his hand dips lower beneath your robe, grazing the soft skin of your stomach and hip. Roughly wrapping a hand around said hip, he pulls you against his body, cold glance locked on your puffy, wet eyes. Despite himself, he smirks down at you, head tilted to the side. His hair is a black curtain that falls over both of you, soft strands resting against your bare torso and arm.
“Do you love me?”
You do not have to think about your answer though it shakes when it leaves your mouth, your lungs begging you to gulp down enough air to replace what you’ve let escape through sobs.
“I love you so much.” You shake your head and sob again. “Please, please believe me”
You feel like a half-formed thing, ready to be made over however he sees fit.
“I believe you, no need to cry,” he assures you, grip on your hip tightening. You breathe through your open mouth and he takes the opportunity to bring his thumb to your face once again, pulling your jaw down and widening your mouth. You know what’s coming next, heat stirring from deep within you despite your sorrow, before he even commands it.
Your tongue lolls out of your mouth and he spits down onto the muscle.You roll it back into your mouth in an instant, grateful for the opportunity to have even the tiniest piece of him in you, his eyes following your throat as you swallow. Communion, consumption of him to purify yourself from the inside out. The ultimate apology until he can use your cunt to fulfill himself later, although he wants to take you now, right here, inviting everyone out to see the work of a master craftsman.
Sobs gradually give way to less powerful sniffles, you squint up at him with your skin exposed and his touch and his hair and his scent and wonder what you were even wishing would happen in the first place. That he’d train you to do what, exactly? This is what you were meant to do.
“Do you feel better?”
You nod and he smiles down at you, the same measured smirk he always wears. He leans down and kisses your forehead, pulling up the sleeve of your robe to give you some semblance of modesty but leaving it open as he ushers you back inside, sliding the shoji shut behind him. Suguru crowds you into the room, leading his nearly lost lamb toward the futon while untying his own robe.
“Now, apologize like you mean it.”
Now, you fall to your knees, grateful he’s allowed you to show how sorry you are in the shadows of his room instead of by the light of the sun.
“War is on the horizon.”
Sitting with your legs tucked beneath you at Suguru’s side on the elevated platform at the front of the room, you keep your eyes downcast while he addresses his congregation. This is your role, it has been for a very long time now, and you’ve learned to ignore curious onlookers or newcomers who will never be able to fathom such fanatical love.
You love him so much you silence yourself. You sit by his side, so quiet you may as well be nothing but air. You have never learned how to defend yourself or even delved into the curses that used to weigh you down; freedom from these responsibilities came in the form of surrendering yourself fully to him. Body, mind, soul, all tied to his whims. You are a puppet on a string and he is free to move you in whichever way he chooses.
Just the way you like it.
“I’ve officially made the declaration to Satoru Gojo himself.”
For the first time in years, you look up when you are meant to look down, the anxious murmuring of the crowd making the hair on the back of your neck stand up. You know what happens when the congregation disagrees or questions their leader and he rises with a flourish, petting the back of your head gently before stepping off of the platform.
“Do I sense disagreement?”
Looking every bit the apex predator that he is, you dare keep your gaze trained on his back rather than the floor. His head swivels from one prostrate form to another, seeking out anyone who dares disagree with his plans. Foreheads touch the ground below them, the ultimate show of devotion, yet one head remains raised and Suguru chuckles as he approaches the newcomer.
You don’t know their name, you realize. You stopped bothering to learn the newcomer’s names given how little interaction you have with them. They’re nothing but faces to be forgotten about after they have spoken out of turn and met their end at the hands of the man standing with his chin held high.
“Is there something you’d like to say?”
Whatever boldness was previously etched into the face of the man kneeling before Suguru has very clearly disappeared but tension flares through the room regardless. You know that whatever choice he makes, however he chooses to deal with this foolish man, is exactly what he deserves. To spit in the face of God is bold and everyone has to learn their place eventually.
You certainly have.
“N-no, no. Please forgive me, Geto-sama.”
Suguru clicks his tongue, turning to face the rest of his family with his arms spread wide, face turned toward the ceiling. Your eyes are to be trained on the ground but you drink in the sight of him standing amongst the mortals who have always believed they know better than he does.
“What do you think I should do to the non-believer today?”
The question is rhetorical. At least, the silent room treats it that way, no one rushing to answer. Everyone knows to only speak when spoken to, even the inner circle who welcomed you years ago keep their foreheads pressed to the ground. He quietly pads through the crowd again, headed back toward you, and your eyes meet the ground swiftly to avoid being punished for looking at him out of turn.
“Look at me.”
Yours are the only pair of eyes he ever truly cares to have on him. Following the command, you glance up at him, remaining with your knees tucked beneath you and your hands folded in your lap. The way he looks down at you is as tender as he will ever get, even his softness is cold and harsh, but he speaks loudly enough that even the room behind him can hear that he values your opinion above the rest of them.
“What do you think I should do with him?”
Smiling back at him, your glassy eyes meet his and you say exactly what you know he wants to hear.
“Kill him, Suguru.”
Smirking, he reaches down to pinch your chin between his index finger and thumb like he always does when you are performing as expected. It isn’t a performance anymore, if it ever was, it’s simply the way you feel when it comes to those who oppose him. He wags your head back and forth before dropping the touch completely, turning around and leaving you facing his back.
Your eyes dart toward the ground once more. You were not instructed to look at him.
Geto walks through the rows of people once more, reaching to touch the backs of each of their heads while he passes, finally stopping in front of his target. His hands rest in the opposite sleeve of each of them and he bends at the waist, offering the same smile he gives to all of his victims.
“Well, unfortunately, your fate has been chosen. You may as well speak now while you still have the chance.”
A curse materializes, brought to this realm by the man in front of you, and you keep your eyes trained on the ground while screams and the sound of the rending of flesh fill the congregation room.
You’ll only look up once you’re instructed, as always.
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staying afloat - k.th
pairing: kang taehyun x gn reader | genre / tropes: angst, argument -> makeup, implied friends to lovers, office worker!taehyun, the subtlest of love confessions | word count: 899 | warnings: burnout and exhaustion from overwork
part of my 300 followers event (event masterlist)
prompt - HEAT: while engaged in a passionate argument with one another, sender, in the heat of the moment, blurts out “i love you!” to the receiver. think of like, that glorious trope where people have a huge argument and then suddenly sb drops the mic with “because i’m in love with you!” and silences the other person. u know the trope! (requested by anon)
author's notes: HI ANON im sorry this took sooooo long. as i said, this was hard for me to write bc i already did the heat prompt twice before and i didn't want to be too repetitive with the arguments... the argument here is a bit calmer and more one-sided on yn's part but i hope it still works!
“you are running yourself into the ground, taehyun!” you grab his shoulders and give him a little shake. taehyun watches you closely, and you can see the darkening circles under his eyes.
he’s still standing before the threshold of your home, right in front of the door. with just one step he could walk in if you weren’t blocking his way. outside, the night air is so cold that you shivered instantly upon opening the door for him. the sky is dark, with neither moon nor stars, and the only light comes from the fluorescent bulb at the doorway.
“y/n, you’re up working too,” he says. his voice is steady but firm. “you can’t tell me what not to do when you’re also working like this.”
“i’m doing overtime for just one night, for god’s sake. but you 一 you’ve been so busy and tired for what, two weeks? you forget to answer my texts. forget!” you throw your hands up. “and you’ve never forgotten before, not in all the years that i’ve known you.”
taehyun stuffs his hands into his pockets and his gaze flickers away from yours for a second before it returns. though he tries to stand his ground, you notice the soft look in his eyes, laying bare the tiredness and worries weighing down on him.
“well, i’m here now. why won’t you let me make it up to you?”
“because it’s one in the morning and you’ve been staying up late for overtime and extra projects for what, two weeks now? you go home late and you wake up early, your boss dumps all this work on you, and you barely get any time off!” you take a step closer, now fully exiting the warmth of your home, to stand so close to him. “please, taehyun. it’s not that i don’t want to see you, but you’re so, so tired. i can see it in your face.”
you reach out to touch his face, but his expression goes taut and your hand hovers just inches away. he turns away from you before you can scan his eyes for the tired look you saw; a cold breeze blows by, causing both of you to shiver and pushing the bangs away from taehyun’s forehead.
he looks... sadder than what you remember. you remember how easily his face would light up before he took on his new position at his job; he would smile at the smallest of your remarks, his big eyes sparkling like jewels. you thought of the steady stream of texts from him day after day, reminding you to eat or commenting on a silly photo you took, and how that stream soon turned into a trickle. the memories make your body feel heavy.
taehyun says nothing for a few moments and just lets out a sigh. when he looks back at you there’s a pained look that wasn’t there before, and you feel an ache in your chest at the sight.
“y/n, i... i don’t want you to worry about me like this. i can’t... i can take care of myself. please, please just trust me. i hate watching you worry like this.”
“oh, you hate watching me worry?” your tone rises before you even realize it. “and i hate watching you turn into this! you’re exhausted, taehyun. you’re not yourself anymore. i can’t even remember the last time i saw you smile! do you know how much it hurts to see the person you love lose himself like this?”
you tremble in your spot and your words start to trip over themselves. your emotions pile onto each other, keeping you from speaking straight: some anger, yes, but mostly disappointment, worry, loneliness, fear. “i ha一 i hate seeing you like this, taehyunie. i can’t一 i can’t watch一 i love you too much to see this一”
taehyun cuts you off to pull you into a hug. he holds onto you so tightly, as if trying to wrestle you away from the emotions gripping you. one of his hands makes his way through your hair. angry tears prick at your eyes but you relax in his hold, finally letting out a sob.
“i’m sorry,” he says, his hand combing through your hair then rubbing your back. “i know you’re just looking out for me... and you’re right. i am exhausted...”
something shifts and now you feel his full weight on you. now you’re the one holding him, his head moving to rest in the crook of your neck, his shoulders fully slumped. the weeks of exhaustion have finally caught up to him, and you wrap your arms around his waist to prop him up.
“i’m sorry, y/n,” he repeats. “for not... listening to you... for forgetting...”
your hold on him tightens and tears stream down your face, but you manage to speak. “i just don’t want you to hurt yourself...”
neither of you say anything more. taehyun doesn’t let go of you and sinks fully into your touch; despite the chill night air, he’s still warm in your arms. you let your tears fall freely as you keep a firm hold on the friend you love, as if letting go of him means he will sink and drown.
the night is so quiet that the murmur he lets out against your neck still comes out loud and clear.
“i love you too.”
#txt x reader#taehyun x reader#txt x you#taehyun x you#kang taehyun x reader#kpop x reader#txt imagines#kpop imagines#taehyun imagines#txt angst#taehyun angst#tomorrow x together imagines#txt fic#txt fanfic#bhj originals#bhj's 300 follower event 🖤
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our boredom's bone-deep
ੈ✩ aki hayakawa x reader
ੈ✩ cw: smut (minors dni, ageless + blank blogs will be blocked), unprotected sex, drunk sex, angst, alcohol, smoking, hurt/comfort, depictions of blood and injury, mentions of s*icidal ideation
ੈ✩ wc: 3.8k
ੈ✩ a/n: theyre both so repressed. also sorry about the tswift reference guilty as sin is just on repeat this week
“Yo.”
Aki turns around to see you walking towards him. You join him on the balcony, reaching over to steal his cigarette back from the breast pocket of his windbreaker.
He looked good in civilian clothes. You didn’t see him like this often – out of his dress shirt and tie with his hair down. Dressed casually like he was a normal boy and not a hunter who signed his soul over.
“You can ask first, you know,” Aki grumbles, watching as you light up the cigarette in your mouth.
“You were going to say yes, anyway.”
He rolls his eyes, knowing that it’s true. He’d taken you to his apartment because it was closer to the location of the mission, offering aid to the wounds you’d gotten in the face of a devil. He didn’t have to. You could still walk and you certainly weren’t dying, but he felt the need to keep you close, anyway.
You chuckle when you see the irritated look on his face.
“Don’t pout.”
The cigarette in his mouth is burned down to the nub. You take it out, grazing the cherried end against the ceramic eightball ashtray you’d gotten him for Christmas the year before. The paint was chipping from how often he used it, speckles of white against the black paint.
You take another cig out from the pack before placing it back into his pocket, holding the stick between your fingers up to his mouth and lighting it.
“Thanks,” he mumbles.
“You’re very welcome,” you grin.
You stay like that for a few minutes. Smoking and silent, staring at the sky post-golden hour, when everything is blanketed in cobalt blue bleeding into a light orange.
“How are your cuts?”
“I’m fine,” you chuckle. “Why do you worry so much? I’ve been around longer than you have, you know.”
Aki merely shrugs. He doesn’t look at you. Holds in his emotions like a geyser begging to stay dormant.
“I just do,” he says plainly.
“How sweet,” you scoff, flicking your cigarette off the railing. “Thought you liked me the least, to be honest.”
“What do you mean?” he asks, irritated. “You’re the one who trained me. Obviously, I don’t hate you.”
You merely chuckle, discarding your blazer. Your uniform shirt is still slightly bloodied.
“What, you think I don’t like you?” Aki asks, a brow raised.
“I’d be surprised if you liked anyone,” you shrug. “But I can tell you have a soft spot for Denji and Power, even if you refuse to admit it.”
He grunts, looking away from you as he finishes his second cigarette. The late spring breeze blows his hair into his face. He doesn’t realize how close he is to you until he adjusts his arms on the balcony, his elbow grazing yours. You don’t react, your chin tucked into your arms as you lean forward. He looks at you with curiosity.
You look at him finally and grin.
“You look better with your hair down, you know.”
“I was thinking about cutting it,” he mumbles.
“Don’t. It’s cute. I always thought you looked kind of like a girl. The hair is working.”
He rolls his eyes again, grimacing. He tries to hide his flush.
“Thanks,” he deadpans. “You know how to make a guy feel special.”
“So I’ve been told.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“What do you mean?” you grin. “You think I’m scary and mean? I’m very sweet to my lovers, you know.”
He could cringe. That wasn’t what he meant. He shivers at the word “lover” like it’s taboo, knowing very well that images of you are flooding his brain against his will. Your proximity makes it worse, how even despite both of you getting roughed up during your mission, you still smelled sweet to him.
“Yeah, right.”
“Do you really think I’m so cruel?” you challenge him. He’s not going to take the bait. He won’t.
“I’d assume you were a sadist.”
“You think I’m a sadist?” you laugh.
“Probably,” Aki grumbles. He fidgets.
He doesn’t want to take out another cigarette, but he’s convinced that it’s the only thing that would help him tolerate your presence right now. He’d felt unusual since he took you back to this apartment. His nose wrinkles at the memory of your body hours prior, your side saturated in blood. His rabbit heart thumping out of his chest at the thought you’d die in his arms — and yet here you are, next to him, teasing like you always do.
“Why?”
“Because you love pushing me to my limits,” he mutters.
“Oh, come on,” you chuckle. “It’s not like I treat you like a toy. I’m not Makima.”
“What does Makima have to do with this—”
“Because you listen to everything she says. It’s like all of you fucking worship her.”
Your voice sounds bitter, but Aki doesn’t want to pry about it. For some reason, something in his chest riles him, makes his heartbeat faster at the prospect that you might be jealous of his devotion to Miss Makima. You’d always clashed in your beliefs but was never particularly candid about it – you were like him. You wanted to kill devils for the sake of avenging your family, but you also seemed apathetic about your life. With no family or a promising future, you often didn’t care if you died. It was the most frustrating thing about you.
Aki huffs. “You hate following rules yet you’re still controlling. It’s hypocritical.”
“I am not controlling.”
“You are. And you love to torment me because I’m the only one willing to put up with your shit,” he says, laughing humorlessly. You don’t know that he would do anything you told him, that he didn’t give a fuck about Makima. It had always been you, at the forefront of both his blissful dreams and worst nightmares.
“I like your resilience,” you say quietly.
“Resilience?”
You nod slowly. “You’re the strongest person I know, Aki.”
He hates how much dopamine fills his brain when you say this. The smallest praises from you would have him hung up, lately. Even a smile was motivating, though he’d rather die than admit that to anyone. He was never one to pine or yearn, keeping to himself since he was young. No girl could pry anything out of him that wasn’t surface-level until you.
He hated it. It felt like a weakness.
“Yeah, right.”
“I mean it.”
“If I’m actually that strong, I probably would’ve broken down your walls by now.”
It could be a teasing statement, but he tucks his expression away into the fabric of his jacket, looking away from you. You’re so close to him, close enough to touch, but he still holds himself back.
“You should save your efforts,” you mumble.
Aki looks at you with narrowed eyes and tries to scan your face for anything telling, but you’re as stoic as him. He’d always found it frustrating, how he could never get anything out of you. He didn’t know how to be selfish. He was apprehensive about provoking you despite how much he wanted to.
“Why?”
You finally look him in the eye. Your features are painted with stubborn contempt as you glare at him.
“Because I’m not worth it.”
Your words strike him through the heart. You weren’t one to be particularly insecure – he’d known this since he met you. But your words now are trying to downplay how much he feels for you, and he won’t have it.
Aki moves close enough to you to smell your breath.
“You don’t get to decide whether or not I waste my time on you,” he protests.
You stare at him. You’re surprised he wants to know you at all. You’ve barely processed the meaning behind his words, the possibility of him wanting you beyond mission support and devil-hunting guidance. Both of you had walls up and that was fine. You never had any intention of breaking any of his, regardless of how often he showed up in your dreams. No matter how often you’d find yourself glancing at him, drinking up his features until you had snapped yourself out of it.
“You can’t want things as a devil hunter,” you say blankly, staring at the dark sky. “There’s no use. Desire is the root of all suffering and shit, right? Like in Buddhism?”
Aki feels his face warm up, his frown deepening as you say this without even looking at him.
“I’ll suffer for you if I want to,” he says firmly.
“Always a masochist,” you whisper, sighing. You smile weakly at him.
“Maybe I am a masochist.”
“I know. Otherwise, you wouldn’t be a devil hunter, huh?”
“Why are you a devil hunter?” he raises a brow.
“Because it’s better than killing myself. If I die because of this job, at least I died being useful, you know?”
He swallows thickly at the thought of your death. He’d imagined it a thousand times since he met you and realized how sardonic you were, how little you cared about your own life. You were a mirror of him.
“Don’t say shit like that,” he says, his tone cold.
“It’s the truth.”
“Yeah, well, I’m not letting you die.”
You stare at him, the expression on your face unreadable. Your eyes look dim.
“Thanks,” you mutter. You slide the glass door open and go back inside. Aki feels his lungs ache.
Eventually, he follows you in and sees you on the couch, staring blankly at the television with a bottle of whiskey in your hand. He rolls his eyes. You were just as bad as Kishibe these days.
He sits down next to you without a word, stealing the bottle to take a gulp, flinching. You watch with amusement. He grimaces at you.
“What?” he asks, irritated.
“You can do better than that.”
He wants to wipe the smirk off his face. Maybe with his mouth. He blinks at you a little too fast, then distracts himself with another gulp. A longer one that makes his throat burn, his head dizzy. You laugh.
“I fucking hate you,” he grumbles.
“I didn’t force you to do it,” you scoff.
No, you didn’t. But it was always easy for Aki to do things for you. He often wanted to, didn’t ask any questions. You always wondered why.
“Would you roll around like a dog if I asked you to?” you grin.
“Fuck off.”
You lay down, perching your legs over his lap. He sets his hands on your thigh like it’s second nature to him. You scan his features. His midnight eyes glisten with the blue of the television reflecting in his irises, his mouth downturned into a default pout.
“You should keep your hair down more often.”
He looks at you with surprise, like he’d forgotten you were there.
“Pretty boy,” you mumble.
“You’re drunk.” He tries to keep his expression level. His face is hot from the whiskey, not you, he tells himself.
You shift your position and your foot grazes his crotch. It makes his breath hitch, the creature of want inside him gnawing at his heart. He thinks maybe you’re teasing him, so he takes your foot and rubs it. You raise a brow.
You’re sitting up now, grunting as you do. He pretends that you aren’t staring at him.
“Does it still hurt?” he murmurs.
“Nah. I’m good.”
There’s contempt on his face when he looks at you, his eyes tracing your collarbone just for a second before gazing at the blood on your shirt. Speckled shapes turning from red to brown.
“Let me see.”
“Aki. I’m fine.”
“Let me see,” he mumbles.
You sigh, unbuttoning your shirt until you’re only in a sports bra. He frowns at your wound, how the gauze is dark and nearly falling off.
“Why didn’t you tell me it needed to be changed?”
“It’s fine—”
“No,” he scolds. “Stay still.”
He pins you down by your hips. Somehow, he’s in between your legs, his face frowning in concentration as he looks at your skin. He gets up to grab the first aid kit.
You take another sip of whiskey.
It numbs the pain when he fixes you up again. His fingers are delicate when they handle you — you can’t help but stare at the way they move when he blots your cut. A small press to the center and you feel it sting, making you hiss. He grips you by the waist to disarm you.
Stay still.
“There,” he breathes, kneeling on the floor in front of you. “It’s more secure now.”
He looks at your stomach, watching the rise and fall of your skin as you breathe. You reach out and pat his head like he’s a pet. Aki was a cute drunk. Still stoic, but malleable in your hands. There are moments during group outings when he opens up a little, places his head on your shoulder. Looks at you for a bit longer than he normally allows himself to.
He presses his cheek to your thigh and sighs as you skim the nape of his neck with your fingers. You stroke his jaw. It’s the closest he’s ever been to you.
Your thumb hooks on his mouth briefly and you feel his tongue on the pad of your fingertip. He looks up at you with half-lidded eyes. Glazed over in the dimness, dripped in syrup.
“You’re barely awake,” you breathe. “I should go.”
“No.” He grips your wrist when you pull your hand away, saliva from his mouth creating the string of fate. The sight made your heart sing. Disgusting.
“Why?” you whisper.
He’s quiet. He could bite the bullet, let the heat of it soar straight through his chest so you can see all the gory bits of desire in him. The whiskey only exacerbated the feeling. He was usually good at keeping it down, despite clinging to you like an extra limb. You probably saw right through him.
“Just stay,” he mutters.
“Make me stay, then.”
He hides his face in your lap again. He feels like such a boy. When you run your fingers through his hair again, he pulls away and grabs both of your wrists, pulling you toward him until you fall onto his lap, his body on the floor. He grips your hips and stares at you from below.
“What are you doing? You wanna wrestle?” you joke half-heartedly.
“No,” he slurs quietly. “You’re hurt.”
Aki sits up and leans on the back of his elbows. He looks at you like he’s eager prey, offering himself on a platter, but he won’t say it. It’s killing you.
“C’mon,” you grin. “I can take it.”
“Stop.”
You pin him to the ground. You’re playing. It’s just that and nothing else, isn’t it?
“Aki,” you say. Your face is so close to his. Your breath smells like tobacco and cinnamon, your neck like petrichor.
“I’m not letting you provoke me,” he groans.
You roll your eyes. “Stop trying to take care of me.”
“But I want to,” he mumbles, his voice barely audible.
“Then I’ll take care of you. I’m your senpai, remember?”
His face is hot again, sweat sticking to his shoulder blades. Fuck, he needed to fix the fan since Power and Denji had broken it while wrestling. The memory reminds him of the position he’s in right now and a flush creeps up his neck.
“I–”
Your mouth interrupts him. It’s an experimental peck. Impulsive. It’s short, but Aki groans into it and touches his tongue with yours. You pull away with wide eyes.
There’s hunger in his gaze, something like desperation. You could work with this. You knew that you had Aki wrapped around your finger since he started at Public Safety, but you didn’t know he would be like this.
He breathes deeply, dark lashes blinking at you from the mess of his bangs. His dick was infallibly hard since you’d straddled him. It was aching now underneath your cunt — there was no hiding it.
He narrows his eyes, trying to disguise how much he wants you.
“Thought you said desire is the root of all suffering.”
“I guess we’re both masochists, then,” you whisper.
He kisses you with more force this time, buries his mouth into your neck to exhale the scent of his shampoo in your hair. Drunk on you. He sucks a hickey into your flesh like it’s payback.
He groans when he feels your hands underneath his shirt, rubbing against the pale skin of his abdomen until he takes the liberty to pull the fabric off himself. Aki has always been pretty – like a girl, like you’d told him before. He was also remarkably boyish. The shy type. He’d seem to grow muscles over the past year, his lean figure always hidden by the uniform.
“Stop staring at me like that,” he huffs.
“Get uglier, then,” you roll your eyes, pulling at the zipper of his jeans.
He lets you handle him like a doll.
“Thought you’d be rougher,” you whisper.
“You’ve… thought about this before?” he asks.
You blink at him, then look away.
“Once or twice.”
“I’m not gonna be rough with you,” he says, his voice lower than before. “Not when you got stabbed earlier today.”
“Told you I’m a masochist,” you chuckle dryly. You strip off your slacks, showing off your less-than-sexy cotton underwear. He grazes your core, the wet patch growing larger with your slick.
“You’re so wet,” he mumbles, mesmerized. He licks his lips, wanting to taste you, lust transparent on his face. It humiliated you, for some reason — you were always used to it rough and fast, your vision blurred while you took cock that you didn’t give a shit about. This was different. This was real.
You put your fingers in his mouth again, pinning him down. He moans when you spit on the head of his cock, palming him gently. Taming him.
You slide your panties off of your legs and do the same with his briefs. When you hover over him, your throat feels tight. He keeps looking at you like you created him. Like you were the world itself.
His tip catches on the slick of your cunt, circling your entrance. Your blood boils, every ventricle in your body sparking to life. You feel him buck his hips, desperate and rutting.
“Use me,” he groans, muffled from your fingers on his tongue.
You sink down on him and his eyes roll back. You remove your fingers from his mouth to toy with your clit, whimpering at the sensation of him filling you up. He was bigger than you expected.
Aki shudders from sensitivity. Alcohol usually numbs his senses, but he can feel all of you, how hot and tight you are. It’s driving him mad. He hiccups through moans, his throat raw.
Your cunt pulses as you grind on him, trembling above him as you try to keep your hips from stuttering too much. Already, you were about to fall apart.
“Fuck,” Aki mutters.
Your hand grazes his face and jaw, and he leans into your palm to kiss it earnestly. Your face burns as you tangle your fingers in his raven hair. When he rises to kiss you, you pull his strands while your other hand holds him back by his shoulder. He groans and thrusts upward into you, holding your hips so that your thighs are flush against his.
Your pulse throbs against the cave of your chest. Aki is desperate to kiss you, to get his tongue in your mouth, so he uses your own trick on you – pulls you in with force and grabs a fistful of your hair. You moan into his mouth, tapering off into a whimper, and you feel him let out a breathy laugh in between kisses.
Aki lets himself be a little loud — no one else was home, and fucking you was cathartic. He squeezes the fat of your thigh, his lunacy suppressed into his tight fists. Entranced by the sight of your cunt swallowing up his dick.
You whimper as your knees start to get rug burn, the skin as raw as the love bites on your neck. Your stomach stirs, ecstasy boiling in the pit. You could pretend it was love from the way he gripped you.
“You’re fucking tight,” he grunts.
“Do you like it?” you rasp. You almost sound like you’re begging.
He nods and holds your face, his other hand making an imprint on your waist. Aki was so much taller than you — his size didn’t register until now, the way he was forcing your chin up to look up into his eyes.
He can barely speak, only letting out choked moans and heavy breaths. You look so vulnerable despite being on top of him. He could picture it now, your thighs shaking with arms outstretched to him in morning light. Bare-faced and illuminated, not a bruise on your body. Happy in another life.
“Fuck, Aki,” you moan.
“Again,” he breathes.
“What?”
“Say my name again. Like that.” Like you love me.
“A-Aki,” you whine, gasping for air. “Close.”
A rush of blood to the head. He almost wants to tell you he loves you, force you to say it back to him in between swapping spit. Even if it was just pretend.
You writhe as you cum. Heat-struck by the coil breaking in your stomach. It was like he was melting your insides. He feels your cunt twitch and spills into you with a groan, nose buried in your hair.
He winces as he pulls out of you, his cum getting the carpet wet. He’ll have to clean it up later. He breathes heavily and looks anywhere but your face.
“Lie down with me,” you whisper.
So he does, face to face with you, his arm loose over your waist. He wants to kiss you, but he assumes you’ve had your fill. He wonders if you’ll ever toy with him like that again. He hates himself for how badly he wants it.
But then you look at him, your eyes searching his for meaning. Unspoken words.
“You okay, baby?”
He’s shocked at the nickname, blushing like he didn’t just fuck you to the moon and back.
He nods, blinking rapidly when you stroke his jaw gently. Branding him with tenderness. Maybe he shouldn’t have slept with you. He didn’t want to be a sycophant, but he still felt attached to you, and it would only get worse from here. Stuck on his heart like chewed gum.
“Angel boy,” you sigh, hazed. You’re still a little drunk. “Pretty.”
“Don’t talk to me like I’m a dog.”
“What are you, then?”
He says nothing. You smile. The warmth in his chest is immeasurable. It aches like a wound that never heals. He supposes that’s what you are for him. But what is he?
“Yours.”
#aki hayakawa smut#aki hayakawa x reader#aki hayakawa x you#chainsaw man smut#chainsaw man fanfiction#csm smut#chainsaw man x you#chainsaw man x reader#csm x you#csm x reader
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your writing makes me feel safe, thank you. if i could request something? it’s totally ok if you aren’t comfortable but i was wondering how you think seventeen would react seeing their s/o’s self harm scars? but not the act of doing it; i’ve just been feeling a bit unworthy because of my own from my past and my mind wandered (but absolutely no worries if this is out of your comfort zone. i know self harm scars can be a trigger for sure (and you don’t have to reply in that case either)) <3 thank you either way
thank you for sharing kind words and requesting! i'm sorry for taking over a year to answer this... hopefully you still see this >.< i also hope my interpretation of your request is ok. sending you all my love 🥺 i hope you’ve been feeling better these days. you’re deserving of all the good things
seventeen: seeing your self harm scars for the first time
tw: mentions of self harming (no details of the act itself) and scars
seungcheol: he’d trace them with his lips, allowing his love to sink into the scars and caress their edges. he’d ask if they still hurt—if the memories are still piercing
jeonghan: “you turned your scar into a butterfly?” “yeah, it always made sense to get a tattoo, and it’s a reminder that pain and discomfort are fleeting. i’m never stuck.” “you’ve always had a thing for flying, haven’t you?” “yoon jeonghan, i’d exchange my arms for wings if i could.” “you’ll need me for so much more than reaching things on the highest shelf.” “you’re right… not the most practical idea.”
joshua: walks with you through the park after seeing the small x on the kitchen calendar, marking the passage of another year, and the feeling is overwhelming as painful memories flood your mind
jun: “so these aren’t from a bike wreck?” “i can’t believe you remember that…” “everything you tell me… i can’t forget anything.” “it was only our second date. i didn’t want to scare you away.” “you wouldn’t have, but i understand why you worried. i wish you didn’t have to.” “what do you think you would’ve said? would’ve thought?” “i would’ve admired you. i can’t imagine that’s an easy thing to share with anyone, let alone a person you just started dating. i would’ve felt honored that you trusted me with something so… intimate, something that leaves room for conclusions being made that you aren’t in control of.”
soonyoung: he asks if you’re ok now and immediately wonders if that was too simplistic of a question, but he means it. he wants to know if you wake up and feel peace or dread. he wants to know about the cracks in your smile. he wants to know if you’re proud of yourself now. if you were before. if he can do anything to make the dreadful moments with forced smiles easier
wonwoo: thank you for being here is the last thing you hear before drifting off, carried away by a current of warm dreams
jihoon: he cries for you and his childhood friend with similar scars. a man he hasn’t seen in years but thinks about the last week of every october—reminded of his birthday, hoping he’s celebrating well
seokmin: he holds you. he doesn’t want to let go until his tears have stopped. he doesn’t want you to know that the thought of you harming yourself pierces his heart, stops his breath, stays heavy on his shoulders, and keeps him awake while you sleep
mingyu: he wants you to know that no feeling you meet will ever scare him away. you don’t need the reminder, but he tells you anyway: you can always come to me. he will be your solid ground, the maker of comforting words and sweet distractions
minghao: will you believe him if he says you’re the strongest person he knows?
hansol: he doesn’t know what to say, and he’s suddenly afraid of his ability to support you. he hopes you can’t tell because this moment isn’t about him. the last thing he’d ever want is for you to turn to another if he’s unable to give you what you need. “it’s ok. you don’t have to have the perfect words. they don’t exist. i just want you to know. i’m so much better now. i’ve never been happier, truly, but the words were starting to itch and pull me out of present moments. summer’s coming, and i know you’ll see them soon. i just want you to know.”
seungkwan: so many questions roll around in his head. they stick to the back of his throat, and he searches your eyes for any signs of the capacity you have for sharing in this moment. you smile softly and offer a nod of encouragement. he takes a deep breath and asks the first one
chan: “do you ever…” “think about doing it again? i do, but i made a list of things to do instead.” “can i hear it?” “make tea, watch the sky, turn music on, call a friend, think about something yummy to make for my next meal, ride the train and stop as close as i can get to the library… i have a playlist of seventeen videos on my phone too.” “you’ve thought about it that recently? y/n…” “i didn’t make the playlist for that purpose alone. it started out of missing you, but i know it’ll help if i start to slip.” “you can always call me. call me first and call again if i don’t answer.”
#seventeen scenarios#seventeen imagines#seventeen blurbs#seventeen fluff#seungcheol scenarios#jeonghan scenarios#joshua scenarios#jun scenarios#soonyoung scenarios#wonwoo scenarios#jihoon scenarios#seokmin scenarios#mingyu scenarios#minghao scenarios#hansol scenarios#seungkwan scenarios#chan scenarios
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So anyway this is the newfound brain rot because I got to many ideas, not enough for a fic, but it’s gonna distract me from others so here we go lol-
(Also yeah Grandpa I’m in a manly mood)
Note from weeks later: Nah this bitch a fix tf-
“Tell me about my Дедушка*.”
Capitano looked down at the ginger with contempt. It was often now, since Dottore had let it slip - curse that bastard - that Tartaglia’s Grandfather was a Harbinger. Apparently the boy had been raised to think that great man was simply a lowly solider, not one of the most powerful men in Snezhnaya.
When he heard that, Capitano had never wanted to kill a family more.
They hid your legacy from their kids, how dare they keep living as thought they had any right!?-
He sighed.
The boy continued to bother the much larger man at any chance he got, borderline begging - or now was he? Maybe he crossed that line ages ago - the man to tell him anything about his grandfather.
War stories, tall tales, hell even DRINKING stories, the 11th would take any.
It wasn’t like his Grandfather wasn’t alive, Childe could leave the palace right now and go ask you, seeing as you lived with his family.
But what Childe wanted was to come home one day in a boisterous manner and shout at his parents:
“You LIED you FEINDS!!! How DARE YOU LIE to not only ME but the REST OF YOUR CHILDREN about their ГРАНДФАТЕР?!? And to YOU, ГРАНДФАТЕР, ALLOWED THEM TO LIE!!! How COULD YOU?!?”
But he held to much respect for both them and you, even if his father sent him off as thought sending his blood thirsty son to join the Fatui would do anything. It was like sending a polar bear to a penguins nest, he had no clue what his father was thinking.
No matter, because you were there, showing him moves and teaching him tricks and giving him tips. Though, he still felt a bit betrayed at the fact that you even hid the fact that you were one of the strongest men in Snezhnaya.
“You truly wish to know boy?” The sharp voice of his superior snapped Childe out of his head. A quick nod was enough to bring Capitano to a nearby chair and sit, Childe quickly following.
“He was brave, I can say that much… He was around before me and had made a name for himself long before I even dared touch the Fatui, let alone graced its ranks.”
Childe took in the information like a sponge, absorbing everything the man said.
“They called him Большой хищник Севера*, a powerful title I’m sure you can see. It is said that before his accident, he had not lost a single man in war or battle, but after, he only lost seven men, one of each nation.”
Childe looked on in wonder. Only seven men… in the entirety of his Harbinger career? He knew the Doctor could never account for that.
“Wait… his accident? Do you mean..?” “Yes, when he first received that scar across his face, marring it, that was the first time he lost a man, someone near and dear to him as I’ve heard. I was only then truly climbing the ranks when this happened… a pity. But he wore that scar, and his friend’s Vision, with pride.” Childe gaped.
“Wait, you mean to tell me that-“ “Yes, Tartaglia, that Vision he carries in his eye, as well as arm and ear, back and finger, even his heart, they all work. They are the last pieces of his closest comrades. He’d rather die than give them up, I’ve heard. Unfortunately the strain of using them forced him into retirement, but he comes when we call.”
Childe’s eyes widened as he screamed.
“WAIT THEY WORK?!?-“
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“BWAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA-“
Ajax looked on in awe at his Дедушка. The nearly ten foot tall giant of a man, with a full beard and furry body hair to boot had just pulled a huge fish out from beneath the ice sheet they currently stood on while ice-fishing, bare handed.
Your roaring laughter echoed through the tundra as you held the fish up proudly. You grabbed the then four year old and hoisted him onto your shoulder, that which he could fully sit on and still have some room. His hands latched onto the side of your face but that didn’t seem to phase you, as you continued your loud laughter. The cause of your laughter, being that the fish was the same size as Ajax.
“LOOK AT HOW LARGE IT IS, МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН*!! SHE IS THE SAME SIZE AS YOU BWAHAHAHAHA!!”
Ajax’s entire body shook as you continued to laugh, giggles beginning to bubble up from his own mouth.
He watched as your Hydro themed earring bounced around as your body gyrated up and down from the mere force of your laughter. His laughter grew until the two of you were basically screaming out through the tundra.
You sighed and - while still chuckling - wrapped an arm around the boys waist and began walking back home. Of course, not before grabbing the bucket filled with other fish from your fishing trip.
Ajax didn’t want to say anything, on account of the fact that it would’ve been disrespectful of course, but your arm that was wrapped around him was bumpy and hard and cold, not unlike a certain place on your chest, though it was just super cold.
The arm was usually covered in more layers or a bunch or bandages wrapped around it to soften its shape and surface, but Ajax could still feel the sharp points and edges, though he never minded.
Eventually you both made it back to the house you shared with his family, and ducking under the doorframe quickly alerted the family of your presents.
“ГРАНДФАТЕР!!!!” Ajax’s two younger siblings - a third was on his way, Teucer would be his name - ran up to you jumping at your feet. You chuckled more and let their heads, greeting each.
“Tonia, Anthon, calm yourselves!! We were only gone a few hours hah hah!!” The two only cried out in joy louder, wrapping themselves around your legs. You stumbled for a moment before walking forward as if they weren’t there.
A man and a woman watched as you walked into the kitchen and subsequently the freezer - ironic considering where you lived - to drop off the fish before waltzing into the living room. You plopped down in the couch, first removing Ajax’s coat and then your own.
The two on your legs let go and smiled up at you, the man and woman - Ajax’s mom and dad - walked over a gave you smile, a hand landing on your shoulder.
Your smile widened.
Archons you fucking loved your family.
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Archons you fucking hated these enemies.
These fuckers from Natlan were resistant little fuckers. You chop off a hand and they’d still keep fighting.
You were growing annoyed after hours of fighting, blood drenching your uniform and absolutely caking your hair, something you knew would be a bitch to get out from experience.
Your right hand of the time, a Natlander by the name of Eztil, was beside you through the whole fight. He wielded large war hammer made of various precious metals and stones, as well as prettified wood; it swung through the skies, heating up the air as his Pyro vision burned bright. Much like you, his battle-hungry smile was long gone, replaced by annoyance as he squished another enemy beneath his hammer, blood spraying across his already bloody face.
“UGH! I’m getting bored nouehuepo*!! When are we going to be finished?? I am growing hungry and wish to challenge you to another eating contest after this!!” He shouted, completely ignoring the man running at him with a knife, whom was taken down by another Fatui member.
“I do not know приятель*. But let us continue until no other man stands but us!” And with that, you both continued swinging. You with your fists, sickles and hammers, him with his war hammer and bursts of flame.
Your movements were in sync, almost like a dance as you ravaged the battle field. You had each others back, making you both the most dangerous force on the battlefield.
If only it could’ve stayed that way.
It was a second. A second to look back at your friend to make a mental check.
Then you felt a searing sensation on the side of your face not looking at him. Eyes quickly looking back, a knife was embedded in your skin and a man had his foot on your chest. He smirked, then dragged the burning hot knife up, towards your eye, but before you could fully react.
Everything went white in that eye, then black.
Then, the most searing, burning, awful sensation you had ever felt.
Your scream silenced the battlefield as you bat the man away with the knife still embedded in your flesh, his body skipping across the land like a stone on a lake. Eztil’s eyes landed on you, which was just enough time for another attack.
“EZTIL!!!” You screamed.
…
A sword embedded itself through his chest. Both your eyes widened as your hand left the knife in your eye, reaching out to your now falling comrade.
You refused to cry, because he’d live.
That’s what you said to yourself as you rushed over to him, not minding your injury.
“Eztil, don’t you DARE fucking close your eyes, do you understand me?!?” Blood bubbles from his lips as his breathing slowed. A tear slipped from his eye as one of his hands pressed against your cheek.
“Nouehuepo… take it.” He whispered. Your gaze became confused as you stared at the dying man.
“What..?-“ “My vision. Take it. She shall be of service to… y-you.” He let out a harsh cough, his blood not staining your skin, making you flinch.
“No. It is yours приятель, I could never-“ “It is my last wish. Y-you wouldn’t deny a d-dying man his last wi-sh, would you?” You sighed, smiling at him.
“I don’t want you to die of enemy hands, so would you allow me to do the honors?” His grin widened, a glint in his eyes as he laughed, which quickly turned to hacking up his lungs.
“O-of co-urse!!” He smiled, and you smiled as well. Your hand flew up to the knife in your eye, and tore it out, not caring for the fountain of blood that squelched out. You also didn’t mind the large flap of skin that fell from your cheek, revealing the musculature of your face and your gums and teeth.
“Goodbye, my friend. May you find many fights in the afterlife to satisfy your bloodlust.” He grabbed your hand with the widest smile you’d ever seen in him.
“And ma-y I see you I-in that place!” Your hand came down onto his head, knife imbedding itself into his skull. Then, you raised your arm and planted the knife tainted with you and his blood now into his chest, striking his heart head on.
The light died from his eyes and his vision, but you quickly picked up the small red jewel which had been attached to his hair. Wiping it off, you leaned back and held your hand forward, before slamming the damned thing into your eye.
The battlefield suddenly felt as though it was atop a volcano itself, the air heating up and ash seemingly falling from the sky. You gripped your friend’s weapon, testing it in your hand and grip, swinging it slightly. Your hands pressed to your waist and your hand tilted to the sky, and finally, you laughed.
Your laughter shook the world, men falling in their asses as you showcased your joy. the air grew even hotter as the vision grew even brighter. Your entire body shook as the ear hammer in your hand heated up to a point where the metals were turning white in heat, though they didn’t melt.
You turned to your men, a wide smile on your face and tears, one trail of water and one of blood, streamed from your eyes.
“WHAT ARE YOU WAITING FOR MEN?!? LET US FIGHT UNTIL ONLY WE REMAIN!! CHARRGGEEE!!!!”
You continued to laugh as you knocked down tens of hundreds of soldiers in one swipe, the sky nearly turning red at the mere sight of your bloodlust and rage.
That night would go down in history. The night the sky cried blood, the fall of a nation of soldiers, the day Natlan would forever regret.
‘The Night Man became a God”
⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆ ⋆｡‧˚ʚ🍓ɞ˚‧｡⋆
You stared at the bloodied Tartaglia- no. You stared at your grandson, Ajax’s bloodied form.
He only looked back at you.
“Well, Дедушка? Have I become a God?”
Holy shit this sucked the shit outta me-
This ain’t the best but I hope you enjoyed might go back and make another of these lmao-
Дедушка - Grandfather
ГРАНДФАТЕР - GRANDFATHER
Большой хищник Севера - The Great Predator of the North
МАЛЕНЬКИЙ ОДИН - LITTLE ONE
nouehuepo - my friend
приятель - buddy
#male reader#x male reader#Genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x y/n#male y/n#platonic#family#Childe!Grandpa!Reader#genshin impact x male reader
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A Not-So-Disastrous Romance (Book 1) Chapter Seven
Kusuo Saiki x Reader
Chapter Seven: New Year's Day
Summary: Saiki's parents invite his friends to celebrate New Year's, and that leads to disastrous realizations.
Let (Y/N) continue to be my friend, prayed Saiki.
“Hey, Saiki!”
I should have prayed for a quiet New Year’s Day.
“Hi, Saiki!”
You’re fine.
“Hello! I’m Kusuo’s dad!” Mr. Saiki leaned in to Kaidou, who he hadn’t met yet.
Mrs. Saiki hadn’t either. “I’m his mom! Wow, you’re such a cute boy! Thank you for being friends with Kuu!”
“What? Uhm…Well…Er!” He stuttered and leaned back nervously. “N-Nice to meet you! I’m the Jet Bla—I mean, I’m Kaidou! I really appreciate your son’s camrader—err, help.”
(Y/N) pretended to cough as they chuckled at Kaidou’s near-slipups.
“Well, I didn’t realize Kusuo had friends other than (L/N) and Nendou,” said Mr. Saiki.
“Nendou’s not my friend,” huffed Saiki. Then, he added, “Neither is (Y/N).”
“Do you think if you tell yourself that enough you’ll actually believe it?” asked (Y/N) playfully.
Saiki declined to answer since he actually did consider (Y/N) a friend.
�� “To think someone like Kusuo actually made three friends,” said Mr. Saiki.
“I prayed that Kuu would have lots of friends!” said Mrs. Saiki. “And it came true.”
So it’s her fault.
“You haven’t gone to pray yet, have you two? You should go!” chirped Mrs. Saiki.
(Y/N) nodded. “Yep!”
“Ah, yes! I should! Indubitably,” said Kaidou nervously. He walked up and rang the bell. I hope I’ll have lots of friends.
(Y/N) rang the bell and clapped their hands. I wish for the people I care about to have a wonderful year! Especially Saiki…
The pair returned to the Saiki family.
“I never expected to engage in a battle with God,” said Kaidou, back to his usual self.
“What did you pray for, Kaidou?” asked (Y/N) curiously.
“Ah, well, it’s a secret!” squeaked Kaidou, blushing out of nerves.
Yare yare. At least he’s getting over what that fake clairvoyant said.
“What about you, Saiki?” (Y/N) looked at him.
He shrugged in answer. (Y/N) nodded in understanding.
“And you, (L/N)?” asked Mrs. Saiki.
“I want my friends to be happy!” answered (Y/N).
Saiki blinked. I suppose I shouldn’t be surprised anymore at their good heart.
“Oh, hey Kaidou, (L/N),” said a new voice. Hairo had arrived. “You’re here, too, Saiki? What a coincidence. Happy New Year!”
“Y-Yeah,” said Kaidou.
“Are you all visiting the shrine to pray? To tell you the truth, I—Hm?” Hairo noticed the adults behind Saiki who looked ecstatic. “Saiki, who are you with?”
“My parents.” Unfortunately. I don’t want you all to meet.
“Oh, so you’re Saiki’s parents!” exclaimed Hairo. “Nice to meet you! My name is Kineshi Hairo! I’m Saiki’s Class Rep! Saiki is always helping me out!”
Mr. and Mrs. Saiki were crying in happiness about how good a kid Hairo was as the boy walked up to the shrine.
“To think you have this many friends!” sobbed Mrs. Saiki. “I’m so happy I’m about to cry!”
“Since when do you have such good communication skills?” cried Mr. Saiki.
“They all just follow me around on their own.”
“You know you like us!” teased (Y/N). Hopefully at least me. It’d be weird if you didn’t like me as a friend. Their heart clenched at the “like me as a friend.”
You, maybe.
I pray for a good rival that I can passionately challenge with all I’ve got, thought Hairo as he bowed at the temple. A formidable rival is also like a good friend. I hope I’ll find someone like that.
“What did you pray for, Hairo?” asked Mrs. Saiki as the redhead returned.
“Well, it’s a secret,” said Hairo.
What’s the deal with everyone wanting friends? Saiki’s eyes wandered to (Y/N). Not everyone is like them.
“Oh? Hey, guys!” greeted Nendou, walking up to the group. “What’re you guys doing here?”
“Hiya, Nendou!” (Y/N) waved.
“Oh, hey, look! My pal’s mom and dad are here!” observed Nendou.
As Saiki heard Hairo’s astounded “realization” that Nendou might be his rival and Kaidou’s excitement at having friends, he couldn’t help but think about how people’s prayers were coming true. Even his own. (Y/N) seemed pretty happy as usual. Though their parents were probably on another business trip, they were still cheery. Saiki was glad about that.
“By the way, Nendou, have you gone to pray yet?” asked Hairo.
“Oh, you mean ringing the bell and stuff? Okay then, I’ll go do it,” said Nendou. He rang the bell hard. “All right! Let’s go get some ramen.”
“What type of ritual is that?”
“The Nendou ritual,” answered (Y/N), amused.
Mr. Saiki laughed. “You only rang the bell. Here, I’ll show you how to do it.” He and Nendou walked back up to the shrine. “Now, you first throw money in here, and then you ring the bell. After ringing the bell, you bow twice. And then you clap your hands twice and say a prayer.” I hope Kusuo finds a nice significant other! “After that, you bow one more time to finish.”
Nendou repeated the ritual before they returned to the group.
Yare yare. What a wish my dad had… Saiki glanced at (Y/N) unconsciously.
“Oh? Could it be?” said a sweet voice. “Ah! Saiki, what a coincidence!” Teruhashi had appeared in her glowing glory. I ran into him here! How lucky! I mean, lucky Saiki!
Mr. Saiki noticed her, and his mouth dropped open in shock (a normal reaction for those meeting Teruhashi). Could it be that my wish from earlier has already—?
No!
But it ticks me off that it would be someone this cute! thought Mr. Saiki.
There’s only one person here I actually like to be around, and that’s (Y/N). Not Teruhashi.
“Oh! T-Teruhashi!” stammered Nendou.
“Hiya, Teruhashi!” (Y/N) waved.
“Wow!” Mrs. Saiki clapped happily. “Who is it this time?”
“Hi, Teruhashi,” greeted Hairo.
“What’re you doing here?” asked Nendou.
“I’m Kusuo’s father! Nice to meet you!” said Mr. Saiki.
“I’m Kuu’s mom,” introduced Mrs. Saiki.
As everyone crowded around her, Saiki and (Y/N) stood off to the side. Saiki was annoyed that so many people were interrupting his chance at a peaceful day. (Y/N) was standing there like a personified ray of sunshine. They were rocking back and forth happily, humming lightly to herself.
“Let’s leave before they notice we’re not with them.”
(Y/N) grinned. “I’m a terrible influence on you! Let’s do it!”
They turned and took a few steps before Mr. Saiki noticed.
“Oh? Are you going home, Kusuo?” asked his father. He turned suddenly to the other teenagers. “Oh, that’s right! If you like, you’re welcome to come by our place! We have customary New Year’s dishes, too.”
“Yeah, come join us,” invited Mrs. Saiki.
“Yeah, let’s go!” cheered Nendou as the others agreed.
Poor Saiki had become black and white and blank.
“Saiki? Saiki?” (Y/N) waved a hand in front of his eyes. Oh, man. This really did a number on you!
l
“Whoa! These mashed chestnuts totally rock!” said Nendou as he ate.
“Go ahead and have as much as you like!” said Mrs. Saiki.
Saiki sat in a corner, trying to avoid the festivities. (Y/N) was sitting in the sun next to him. Like a cat, they were almost napping in the warm light.
“It’s very delicious! Please teach me how to make it sometime,” complimented Teruhashi.
“Of course! It would be my pleasure!” said Mrs. Saiki.
“You’ll make a good wife, Teruhashi,” commented Mr. Saiki.
“I’m flattered!” gushed Teruhashi.
That is not the option I want anyone to consider.
…Not that there is any option.
“Everyone, thank you for being good friends with Kuu,” said Mrs. Saiki honestly.
“No need for thanks!” Hairo grinned.
“We’re his friends because we want to be,” said (Y/N), stretching and smiling.
Saiki liked that idea, strangely. He could make people do whatever he wanted, but to know some people just wanted to be around him was nice.
“Yeah, you’re right, sorry,” said Mrs. Saiki emotionally. “I’m just so happy. He’s always had very few friends because he’s a psychic.”
Everyone froze after that statement. Silence fell over the room.
Yare yare.
Saiki’s eyes immediately darted over to gage (Y/N)’s reaction. They tilted their head in confusion and glanced between him and his mom questioningly. However, there didn’t seem to be any hostility or fright on their face. Saiki was thankful for that.
“Honey, you probably shouldn’t have said that,” said Mr. Saiki.
“What?” Mrs. Saiki clearly hadn’t planned to say that.
“He’s a…psychic?” asked (Y/N). “What do you mean by that?”
Mrs. Saiki paled as she realized what she had revealed.
“Honey, you should say something,” said Mr. Saiki.
“O-Oh,” stammered Mrs. Saiki.
Calm down. This is nothing to panic over. Nobody is taking this seriously. Well… Saiki glanced over at (Y/N) who was looking intently at him as if realizing something. Most of them aren’t. They may be a problem. As usual, (Y/N) was observant at all the wrong moments.
Mr. Saiki coughed awkwardly. “Well…” He attempted to change the subject. “Do you guys know the logo of Shonen Jump?” he asked nervously. “You know, the pirate symbol?”
“Yes, I do know it,” said Hairo, slightly confused.
“If you turn it ninety degrees, it looks like the profile of a girl,” said Mr. Saiki. “Well…I just thought I’d point that out.”
The teenagers still looked awkwardly at him and his family. Finally, Nendou looks at a manga.
“Oh! Whoa! Cool! It really does!” exclaimed Nendou. “Here, look at this!”
“You’re right! It does!” realized Hairo.
“It looks like she’s wearing a skull hairclip,” remarked Kaidou.
“I guess it does look like a girl,” said (Y/N). They remained distracted, however, and kept glancing back at Saiki questioningly. They weren’t as mollified as the rest of the group.
Yare yare. I have no choice. I need another distraction. Using his powers, he knocked over a water glass and made it seem like Hairo had done it.
“Oh, no! I’m sorry,” apologized Hairo as the water soaked the tablecloth.
“Oh, no! I’ll bring a dishcloth!” cried Mrs. Saiki.
The night ended with the incident, finishing any talk of Saiki’s psychic abilities. After dinner, the teenagers said their thanks and began to walk back to their houses together.
“I didn’t expect Saiki’s parents to be so cheerful,” said Kaidou.
“Yeah,” agreed Nendou.
“At any rate, have you no manners?! You sure made yourself at home,” said Kaidou.
“What?! Hey, you were the one talking all funny! What was that about?!” cried Nendou.
“Now, now. It’s New Year’s. Let’s not ruin it by fighting,” admonished Teruhashi angelically.
“More importantly…” (Y/N) suddenly spoke up after thinking hard. “I wonder what Saiki’s mom meant about him being a psychic.”
“Oh, that…I wonder what that was about,” said Hairo. “That made things kinda awkward, didn’t it?”
Saiki teleported behind a telephone pole. Yare yare. They couldn’t undo the damage after all.
“She was probably just joking,” said Kaidou.
“But they did suddenly change the subject…” pointed out (Y/N).
“Yeah, it definitely was a little strange,” said Hairo.
“But Saiki’s mom is a little unusual, so…” said Nendou cheerfully.
Don’t say that about my mom.
“But they really dodged the subject,” remembered (Y/N).
You really become observant at the most inopportune times.
“I thought it might be true for a second,” admitted Hairo.
“That’s silly,” scoffed Kaidou, acting tough.
“I was just kidding,” said Hairo.
At the next crossroads, they all split up to head to their respective houses. Each teenager was now alone.
As (Y/N) walked, they continued to ponder on what had happened at dinner. Especially the incident with the water spill. (Y/N) knew it had seemed that Hairo knocked the glass over, but…his elbow never touched it. Could it be possible? It seemed outlandish, and yet…(Y/N) couldn’t help but think it made sense. Could Saiki really be a—
Thwack.
Sorry, (Y/N). I can’t have anyone know. Saiki sighed as he watched (Y/N) walk away. He could only hope that their germanium earrings wouldn’t negate his Nanana stick and memory altering.
l
Saiki was half-pleased. His memory altering had been successful on Nendou, Teruhashi, Kaidou, and Hairo, but now they all had annoying misconceptions of what Mrs. Saiki said. The only person he was unsure about was (Y/N). He couldn’t read their thoughts, so he had no idea what she thought. As (Y/N) waved to him as he sat down for school, however, they clearly “remembered” what Mrs. Saiki said.
Saiki’s never had many friends because few people understand him.
(Y/N) smiled to themself. Saiki…You’re an enigma incarnate, but…I want to be your friend. Through thick and thin, I want to be by your side. I want to try to understand you, if you let me. I hope you’ll let me…because I really care.
Those sentiments had been hidden quite deeply before, but as (Y/N) thought them, they took root, and something new bloomed in their heart.
Oh dear, thought (Y/N) as that something new grew unbidden. Their eyes widened, and they touched their heart. I have a crush on Saiki.
Taglist:
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@painstakingly-juno
@characterreaderwriter
@melovepurple
@sleep-7372
@w0mank1sser
@geminigengar
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#a not so disastrous romance#x reader#gn reader#nb reader#x gn reader#x nb reader#saiki kusou no psi nan#the disaster of psi kusuo saiki#kusuo saiki#saiki x reader#saiki k#saiki no psi nan#saiki#saiki kusuo#saiki kusuo x reader#kusuo#kusuo x reader#kusuo saiki x reader#tdlosk
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Fuyume Hanamura Idol Story 2
ーA basic studio within the ES building, two years since the establishment of ES
Fuyume: …
Midori: …
(What am I supposed to do?)
(This new kid…Hanamura-san, was it? The staff told him that I'm going to be using my experience in the field to guide him through today’s job.)
(It’s already been a whole 20 minutes since then and neither of us have said a word to each other..)
Fuyume: …
Midori: (I-I have to do what they told me to and teach him what he needs to do. I know I suck at this stuff but between the two of us, I’m the one who’s more familiar with this type of work.)
(But there’s no way I can bring myself to do it. I really, really don’t want to.)
(This kid is radiating an aura that screams ‘don’t talk to me’...this whole time, he’s been doing something on his phone while occasionally whispering and muttering to himself.)
(I think…he’s even been taking selfies and posting them online…?)
(It feels like he’s in a world of his own making.)
(I’m scared~, I don’t like it~ , I don’t wanna talk to him~...)
(Now that I think about it, he was there listening when the staff put me in charge of coaching him so he must know what’s going on too.)
(He should be turning to me and saying something like ‘Please give me your guidance, Senpai!’. It’s the polite thing to do, really.)
Fuyume: …Um.
Midori: !? Y-Yes? What’s the matter…?
Fuyume: …They’re calling Yume.
Midori: (Huh, what does that mean? Is he one of those people that hear voices that aren’t there? Is he 'cuckoo', as people used to say?)
Fuyume: It looks like it’s time for Yume to go up now.
Midori: (Oh, right, the staff are calling for him. Seems like they’re ready to start the shoot.)
(What do I do? I didn’t teach him how to do a single thing.)
(From what I’ve heard, it sounds like this kid is a popular amateur model? I think they call it a cos…player?)
(There’s no need for me to come in acting high and mighty and tell him what to do, right?)
(I bet he’s already familiar with how these jobs work. He seems so confident for some reason…?)
Fuyume: Fufufu. Yume will do his best.
Today, you’re all invited to step into Yume’s world
Fuyume: Sniffle. Sniffle sniffle.
Midori: (What am I supposed to do?)
(All that confidence he was giving off was just a front…)
(He doesn’t know the first thing about professional modelling and kept insisting on using methods from his amateur days.)
(I wonder what that one staff member did to have this kid going off at him the entire time? Just when I thought he’s behaving well, he suddenly started berating and denying that guy’s humanity.)
(Not to mention all the complaints he has about the lighting or the costume...)
(He started telling the staff to take pictures from his cutest angle and even asked to wear the outfit he had brought along himself.)
(After all the back and forth, it was agreed to put the shoot on hold for a while. When this guy realised the staff weren’t going to listen to his opinions, that's when the tears started...)
(The staff asked me to see if I could do something to motivate him or change his mindset but…is that even in the job description? Shouldn’t this be the responsibility of a manager or something?)
(Who am I kidding? We probably wouldn’t be in this mess if I had just done my job and shown him what to do from the start.)
(I’m at fault here too, so I feel like I should at least do something.)
Fuyume: Midori-sama.
Midori: Huh? Yes, what’s…wait, ‘Midori-sama’ ?
Fuyume: Yume has seen you in a magazine before and thought you were as dashing as a prince. Fufu.
So you’re Midori-sama. ‘Cause you’re a prince. Fufufu.
Needless to say, you don’t have what it takes to be called Yume’s prince, since that title is already taken by another.
There is no sin in beauty. Fufufufu.
Midori: (Huh…? What is he talking about…? I don’t understand a word that’s coming out of his mouth. Are all the kids like this these days…?)
(Hey, wait a second? He’s acting surprisingly unfazed for somebody that I thought was crying into his hands just a minute ago? Was he faking it…?)
Fuyume: Melon soda, plum and kelp tea, coffee.
Midori: ? What? Are you casting some kind of spell?
Fuyume: I’m trying to make the drink that Esu found during his adventure. What else was in it again…?
Midori: I-It’s going to taste awful if you mix so many random flavours together.
Fuyume: I’ll be able to drink it. I will drink it. I want to relive Esu’s story for myself.
Bottoms up. Glug glug…
……
Fuyume: …
Midori: Tastes awful, huh…? I warned you not to drink it. You can tell just from looking at it how bad of an idea that is.
Here, spit it into this cup.
Fuyume: Urgh, Yume has a long way to go.
His image of a perfect princess is still far out of reach.
—I’m sorry, Midori-sama.
Midori: Uh, for what? I can’t keep up with this conversation…
Fuyume: Yume messed up again…he couldn’t keep his ego in check and screwed up the job. He even made Midori-sama mad.
So…Yume is sorry.
Midori: Oh, uh, you did cause a lot of problems but…no, nevermind, that’s not true. I should be apologising too. I was trusted to be your mentor but I haven’t taught you a single thing.
I’ve failed as a senpai, huh?
Fuyume: It’s alright. Besides, even if you had given Yume some pointers, if he didn’t like what he heard, he'd probably just get annoyed and ignore you.
He’s always been like this—so egotistical. It’s the only princess quality he has.
Regardless, Yume is sorry. The staff member that Yume was blowing up at was someone he had met before. They'd shown up to one of Yume’s photo shoots in the past with a super bigheaded attitude.
They were giving out business cards and masquerading as a professional. It was seriously the worst, they started taking over and ruined the mood on set.
A photo shoot is supposed to be a part of Yume’s world.
Ever since that day, Yume hasn’t been able to forget all the hate and frustration that he felt. When he saw that they were here today, he couldn’t stop his emotions from bursting out.
Yume can’t stand being in their line of sight. He hates being treated like a toy and having that person making up their own ideas of him…so, uhm, he’s sorry.
Yume honestly never wanted to cause all this trouble for you.
Yume was hoping we could get along…he wanted to talk to you but he was too embarrassed and nervous to know how to.
You looked like you were in a bad mood today, Midori-sama. The vibe you were giving off made it seem like you didn’t want anyone to approach you.
Midori: (Oh…)
(So we both had the same impression of each other…I should’ve known that he’d be feeling nervous about his first professional job.)
(Even I was feeling anxious when I first arrived on set.)
(I know how it feels to be in his position…that’s exactly why they asked me to be his mentor today.)
(I’m terrible, aren’t I? I’m never going to make any growth.)
Hanamura-san.
Fuyume: Yes?
Midori: Let’s go and apologise to the staff once you’ve had a drink and taken a moment to calm down.
Fuyume: Yume doesn’t want to apologise.
Midori: Oh…okay, I understand. If you want, I can go and ask for the staff member that doesn't like you to be removed.
It’s within our right to request things like that. You can even step away from jobs you don’t want to do too.
Fuyume: …
Midori: That being said, if we don’t do our jobs properly, we’ll cause problems for even those that don’t have anything against you, Hanamura-san.
We'll end up being hated and labelled as 'someone I don't want to work with' by the people around us.
Fuyume: Yume hates being hated.
Midori: Then let’s go and give them a proper apology. Once we’ve done that, we can focus on finishing off the job.
It might be late, but I’ll teach you the correct methods to use. Since I’m your senpai, I’ll make sure I put you on the right path.
Admittedly, this’ll be tough for me…I’m not important enough to be bossing people around, and I suck at talking to people too.
Fuyume: Mm…Yume isn’t good at it either. People always seem to get confused when he tries to have a normal conversation with them. It’s weird.
Midori: That was meant to be a normal conversation earlier…? You really do live in a world of your own.
(Crap, I didn’t mean to say that out loud. He’s probably going to get mad at me now. Judging by the way he seems to hate being challenged, I’ll bet that he always had his way in the amateur world.)
Fuyume: Fufufu. Thank you, Midori-sama.
Midori: (Huh? He took it surprisingly well? This kid doesn't make any sense to me…)
Fuyume: Yume wants to put his world on display for everyone to see.
He's grateful that you noticed its existence.
You made Yume happy, so Yume must thank you.
Fufufufu, Yume just had a sudden burst of motivation. He’s going to turn over a new leaf and do the very best he can to make sure this job is a success.
Midori: R-Right…I’m glad you’ve found some motivation.
I’ll do some reflecting of my own and give it my all too.
Let’s work together to finish this job, Hanamura-san.
Fuyume: Stop saying ‘Hanamura-san’, Yume wants you to call him ‘Yume’ instead. It’s been getting on his nerves all day. Yume doesn’t feel like working anymore.
Midori: Whaaat…?
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AITA for not wanting to divorce my wife when my in-laws are racist and fat phobic about it?
I’m(M) recently married to my(F) wife. For some context, I’ve known this family for roughly 3 years and worked for them; I never complained about the hard labor or long hours, hell I did the work of 3 men or more without breaking a sweat! I’m very self conscious about my looks and weight, so I glamorize myself and sometimes use a wrap to make myself thin. It hurts sometimes, but it’s better than being stared at or comments thrown at me. Now my in-laws, let's call them Mr. and Mrs. G, are big on tradition about passing the family business to a son, but they only have daughters and the oldest two are already married, and they can’t find a guy who will give up his surname for theirs (I can’t blame them, I haven’t met a guy who’s willing to do that). Anyways during those three years I’ve gotten to know Mr. and Mrs. G’s youngest daughter and currently my wife, Cui.
Sweetest, nicest girl I ever met and we hit it off without a hitch, she’s everything I wished for in a wife. She knows the ins and out of how to run her family business, but Mr. G refuses to just let her take over unless she’s married to a man who can take their surname…well after she told me that I said I can be her husband since I’m technically an orphan and I don’t have any attachments to the surname given to me. Originally it was going to be more of a business relationship or front until she can find someone she can love, especially how I actually look, and I told her that. Cui thought that was sweet of me. So we talked to her parents together and they gave their blessing once they learned I’m an orphan.
Wedding planning, preparations, and the actual wedding was nice but very stressful; I didn’t have much time to myself and decompress as my in-laws wanted my attention 24/7. I can feel my glamor smearing off and the wraps digging into my skin to the point it’s cutting into my skin. Though during the wedding I can’t just walk away for a moment to be alone and I don’t want to disappoint Cui, so I bear through the ceremony and during the reception I drink to get my mind off the pain and my insecurities. Now I may be an asshole here since I drank way too much and I haven’t had a drink in 3ish years, so I get more drunk than I wanted and got way too relaxed…where I took off the wraps under my clothes and my glam is off.
All hell broke loose, as if a hungry ghost or one of the kings was there! People were screaming about a fatass pig demon crashing the party and I was ready to throw this asshole out until Cui, my sweet wife, told me that they were talking about me. Still drunk and now shocked, I bawled my eyes out and ran out of the room, accidentally knocking stuff and people over on the way out. Cui followed after me to make sure I’m okay.
Ever since that, her parents bully and pick on me about my appearance and my weight, telling me I’m a fatso that doesn’t have the right to be part of their family, saying I stink up the place (I’m still working hard to support the business and during the hot summers I can’t help but sweat), to how much I eat (again it’s hard work and I do eat to cope from the abuse), to how they never see Cui anymore (she locked up in our house and I have the key so her parents can’t have surprise visits and abuse me more), to how I should go back to where I came from (and other racist remarks, but I don’t want to be flagged by the mods). They even hired thugs to get me to divorce Cui! Thugs who try to chase me out of my own home and wife! Thankfully I had years of experience in combat, and so far none bested me. Though their words are starting to get to me and that’s why I’m here asking you guys. Am I the asshole?
#zhu bajie#journey to the west#jttw#xiyouji#Gao Family#Fake AITA#Wukong would definitely have multiple accounts(almost all of them banned and one hacked)
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mission (im)possible (April 30th prompt; Rational) @jilymicrofics
Lily shares a quick look with James, both of them now seated at the kitchen table in Grimmauld Place, facing their son.
Their almost seventeen years old son.
“So…what’s up Snitch?” James asks, and as always, he seems perfectly able to keep his grin on, although Lily knows they both feel uneasy.
In fact, they’d both hardly been able to think of anything other than this moment for the entire day, ever since Harry’s asked them about a chat after dinner.
Now, he looks just as worried as them. Though, Lily would think that that’s hardly possible.
“I’ve got a plan.” he replies his Dad, clasping his hands together on the table. “And…you probably won’t like it.”
Lily purses her lips. She is already sure she won’t like it. “A plan?” she asks, raising her brow. “What for?”
It’s unnecessary really, to ask that, for it could only ever be one thing, yet Lily still hopes it wouldn’t be that.
Anything but that.
James stirs next to her, leaning onto his elbows. “You’re not dropping out, kid, are you?” he jokes, chuckling amusedly—
Until they both see the sinister look on Harry’s face.
James falls quiet at once, glancing over at her before he looks back at their son. “You’re not—“
“I am.” Harry‘s decisive voice cuts James off. “I’m sorry, but I have to.”
Lily can only stare back at him — at the boy, their boy, with way too many burdens, all unjustly placed upon his young shoulders. It’s painfully overwhelming, because she still remembers, like it was yesterday, how he used to be so much smaller. How he’d held onto her hand whilst going out, or asked for bedtime stories and good night cuddles.
Lily’s heart clenches. How fast did the years pass? Spiting any rational thought, she can’t help but wish she could have frozen time, just for a little while.
Because now, she can’t help but mourn for the carefree little boy Harry had been. How could she not? When her son looks so utterly worn and tired these days.
“You don’t have to,” James protests, and Lily can hear the frustration clear in his voice.
She places her hand upon his arm to calm him, whilst her eyes bore intently into Harry‘s. “Why do you think that?” she asks him calmly.
Harry looks away, towards the small kitchen window. “I…can’t tell you.”
James sighs, before he takes Harry‘s hand into his over the table. “Yes, you can. Common Snitch, you know we want to help.” he tries. “Tell us.”
Lily nods her head eagerly. “Your Dad’s right, love.” she adds, taking his other hand. “You can tell us.”
For a moment, when their son‘s green eyes flicker up to look at her and James, he seems so close to tell them — tell them everything that’s been worrying him so much. But it’s too fleeting a moment for Lily to even be sure she hadn’t just imagined it.
“I can’t.” he insists instead, pulling his hands away. “I’m sorry, I really am.”
Lily can see the truly apologetic look in his eyes, though that doesn’t help to ease her worries.
“I promised Dumbledore I wouldn’t.”
Dumbledore?
Lily’s eyes flutter closed for just a second, as she silently curses the man that, although he’d always been a good friend, had more than once now disappointed her.
Even in death, his mysterious plans still seem to be continued, with Harry as their main act — which goes against everything she and James have wanted for their boy.
James’s hand clutches into a fist on the table. “What?” he asks angrily. “Why would he want you to promise him that?”
He’s angry. Lily can tell that he’s so very short of raising his voice. She can understand him for it too, for she feels just as frustrated.
Harry on the other hand remains almost stoically calm. “Because he knew it wouldn’t help if I did,” he explains. “You can’t help me this time.”
And just like that, Lily’s resolve crumbles.
“Don’t say that.” she argues fiercely, her unnaturally pitched tone a clear reflection of her own despair.
“Mum, it’s fine—“ Harry sighs tiredly, as though he’d known this would happen. As though no matter what Lily says, he’d already made up his mind.
“It’s far from fine!” she retorts anyways, fighting best she can the sudden feeling of tears in her eyes. “I don’t care what Albus told you. We can help, and we will.”
Harry opens his mouth to reply, but Lily’s too deeply upset to let him. “You can’t just decide to do this on your own, Harry. I won’t let you. We’re in this together, we’ve always been—“
“We’ve never been in it together!” Harry interrupts, jumping to his feet.
Lily can’t help but flinch, her words dying on her tongue as she stares at him, utterly shocked by his uncharacteristic outburst. She can’t recall him ever reacting like this in her presence before.
“Harry,” James warns. “Don’t talk to your Mum like that.”
But Harry only shoots him a quick look, ignoring his warning, before his blazing eyes lock with her’s once more. “You can’t help me.” he insists. “And you should stop trying to convince yourselves otherwise.”
His words rip Lily’s heart into shreds. Not only because he’d said it with such unwavering conviction, but because deep down, Lily knows he’s right.
It hurts worse than any torture curse ever could.
“Harry!” James exclaims loudly, standing up as well.
“What?” he bites back, but where any other person might see anger, Lily now sees her son‘s very best attempt to steel himself.
It’s better they’d be angry with him, rather than heartbroken, before he’d leave. Suddenly, it all makes sense.
Slowly, she stands up, and without another word, walks around the table until she’s just an arm’s length away from her son. “You don’t have to go.” she says quietly, tears once again filling her eyes. “Please, sweetheart.”
Harry turns away from James to look at her with sad, but unwavering eyes. “Mum—“
“No, please,” Lily repeats quickly, taking hold of his arms. “We’ll figure it out. I promise. You can’t— Dumbledore could be wrong.” she implies, biting her lower lip. “I can’t let you go.”
It’s finally out. Lily can’t let go, not when there’s a chance that she’d never—
“I can’t let you risk your life.” she says fiercely, as she pulls him closer to her, until their foreheads almost touch.
“Like you did?” Harry asks knowingly.
Lily curses her son‘s wit in that moment. “It’s different,” she argues, although she knows that really, it isn’t different at all. “I wanted to protect you—“
“I know.” Harry smiles slightly. “And now, I can finally return the favour.”
#harry potter#james potter#lily potter#jily microfic#jily#harry potter and the deathly hallows#horcruxes#jily lives#angst#last day last prompt
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Astonishment
Gaang x fem!Reader
Summary: The Gaang is on the way to the Earth Kingdom where they meet an Earth Bender, and they can’t help but be amazed at her abilities.
Warnings: Nothing I’m mindful of! Let me know if y’all find anything.
Note: Thanks for requesting @fqshionkilla! This request was quite interesting and wonderful! I had so much fun writing it and I hope you enjoy it. (I may have added a little Aang x reader but just a little bit I couldn’t help it.)
Also this isn’t based on a specific part in the show, I just made it up lol.
“We have to keep moving.” Katara encouraged, watching as her brother fell to the ground from exhaustion for what seemed the hundredth time in the past hour. Momo was sitting on his shoulders, wide eyes looking at the boy as his tail wagged with confusion. That was most likely Momo’s way of saying “Seriously, what’s wrong with this guy?”
Toph groaned from the rock she decided to sit on, and Aang slipped from the tree his back was leaning against at the sudden noise, but he quickly regained his posture.
“‘Keep moving’?!” Toph repeated, faded eyes widening in disbelief. “I’m dying out here!”
Katara crossed her arms, the map in one of her hands as her eyes scanned her tired friends.
“I know you guys are tired, but we have to keep walking if we want to get to the Earth Kingdom. Aang, do you think Appa is rested enough for us to fly again?”
Aang was in the middle of rubbing the sleepiness out of his eye, and his hand stopped when he was addressed.
“Sorry, Katara,” he started, “but Appa was carrying us for two hours; not to mention him walking behind us this whole time. He’s tired.”
Katara looked bumped out that they couldn’t move on, but she sighed after a moment of thinking. “I guess so, I just want to get there in time.”
“What’s the rush?” Sokka intervened, rubbing the sweat off his face with Momo’s ear, despite the animal’s objections. “It’s not like something major’s going on.”
“Right Sokka. It’s not like a war has been going on for one hundred years!” Katara injected sarcastically, her already crossed arms tightening as a way to cross them for a second time.
Aang sighed. “Although you’re right Katara, Sokka’s also right. We’re not really in a hurry to get to the Earth Kingdom. I think we should make camp. Rest for a night.”
Katara, basically the mother of the group, had trouble being convinced, but the three of them including Appa and Momo already decided on staying the night, their bodies visibly relaxing at the thought of finally being able to rest.
“I suppose we can rest.” She allowed, but none of them seemed to hear her, for they already knew the decision was made before it was spoken.
So the team made camp, Toph creating a rock tent for her to sleep in, four thick walls surrounding her tiny body that was totally fight proof, while Sokka, Katara, and Aang planned to sleep in sleeping bags.
Sokka reluctantly gathered fire wood and spent five minutes rubbing two sticks together before he realized he had matches on him.
Together they sat along the fire, satisfying cracks coming from the flames. All their eyes reflected the flames, fire dancing in their orbs.
“Too bad Aang doesn’t know Fire Bending yet; the fire would have been a lot easier to make.” Sokka commented, only trying to innocently start a conversation, only to get a harsh glare from the Avatar himself, making the boomerang guy sink his shoulders.
“Sorry.” He mumbled. “Just trying to fill the silence.”
“Well it’s definitely working.” Toph said sarcastically, making Aang and Katara stifle a laugh.
“How about we tell some stories?” Aang suggested, leaning against Appa’s white fur with a grin plastered on his face. “Anyone got something interesting?”
Toph shook her head. “Sorry to disappoint, Twinkle Toes, but I’ve got nothin’”
“Katara?” Aang asked, hope filling his eyes as he died for have something fun and wild to think about before he went to sleep.
She shook her head. “Unless you want to hear old Water Tribe legends.”
Sokka groaned, having heard them a thousand times from their Gran Gran. “No thank you.” He said, Momo’s ears covering his eyes as he laid on his stomach.
Toph blew some hair out of her face, the noise breaking the short couple of seconds of silence. “Sokka?” Aang hesitantly asked.
Sokka shrugged the best he could while laying down. “I’ve got nothing.”
Aang leaned back onto Appa, his excitement wearing off. He previously lept forward in hopes of hearing a suspenseful story, but leaned back once he got no response.
“Well, I guess that settles it. Let’s just go to sleep I guess.” Aang suggested, a slight frown on his lips out of disappointment.
“Sorry Aang, we tried.” Sokka said, getting up lazily and making his way to his sleeping bag. He yawned loudly, arms stretching up high but forgetting Momo was sitting on his shoulders, and the poor animal fell to the ground with a noise of protest, crawling over to Aang in hopes of comfort.
Aang petted the lemur’s head, blue arrow on his hand shining in the fire’s light. The boy yawned himself. “Goodnight, Momo.”
The lemur seemed to get the message, body curling up into a ball, tail wagging a couple times before it made home beside him. His wild unique eyes shut, slumber slowly taking over.
The whole team felt the wave of sleep come over them, all eyes shutting after a few yawns were heard.
Suddenly Toph bended the rocks around her to the ground, a loud cracking noise from the rocks doing so. A gasp was heard coming from her lips, her body standing up so her feet could feel-see-better.
“Guys!”
The urgent tone of her voice got everyone sitting up, Sokka rubbing the heck out of his face to show that he was in fact dead asleep a couple seconds ago before the disturbance.
“What? What is it Toph?” Katara asked, grabbing her container filled with water just in case.
“I feel someone coming.”
“What? Who?” Aang asked, hand reaching for his staff as he took position of a fighting stance, looking in all directions for any sign of movement that wasn’t from the wind.
Toph suddenly slammed her foot to the ground, a sharp line of rock scurrying along the earth’s floor toward what looked like just a dark spot on the woods. All three of them watched it, including Momo who was on top of Aang’s head, trying to get as far away from the danger as possible, and Appa, who was still lying down, eyes half open.
The line suddenly changed course, and before Toph could stop it, it bumped right into her foot, her body falling to the ground.
“Oof!”
“Toph you okay?!” Sokka yelled, making his way over to the girl only for him to trip on what was left of the line of disturbed earth, arms flying in circles trying to regain balance but he failed to do so, body falling to the ground right next to Toph.
“How did that happen? Did it run into something?” Katara asked confused.
Aang shook his head. “Not something. Someone. Someone’s Earth Bending from the woods.”
Once Sokka and Toph were off the ground, they were about to start slowly walking towards the woods to check things out but someone came out of the trees, revealing themselves.
“You know, you didn’t have to do that, I was just exploring; the forest is pretty at night.”
A girl was standing there, dressed in dark green Earth Kingdom clothes, hair half tied up, an Earth Kingdom pin tucked in the strands. Her cheeks were flushed at the sight of many people looking at her strangely.
Suddenly all of them went in a stance, ready to strike. One boy, blue arrow in his bald head held his two hands up with a staff in one of them, clearly ready to Air Bend if needed. A second boy dressed in blue- she figured he was Water Tribe- held up a boomerang in his hand. The girl in a matching outfit of his had water wrapped around her arms, and the -blind?- girl next to her held two rocks in the air.
“Woah!” She said, holding her hands up to show she didn’t have weapons on her. “What’s this all ab-”
“Oh don’t act like the Fire Nation didn’t send you! Stay away from Aang!” The boy in the blue yelled, holding up his ‘weapon’ higher as a way to prove his point.
The girl was surprised. “Fire Nation? Why I’m on earth would I be on their side?” She said, stepping closer.
The girl holding rocks in the air suddenly put them down, the two rocks crashing back into the ground. “Wait.. I recognize you. Your voice I mean.”
“What? How?” Aang asked, titling his head.
“You’re one of the best Earth Benders in the world!” Toph exclaimed instead of answering Aang’s question.
“What?” Sokka said disbelievingly. “No way. She’s been sent by the Fire Nation to capture Aang. Stand back, Toph.” Sokka said, stepping in front of Toph to protect her.
Toph wasn’t having it, and pushed Sokka out of the way.
“Calm down. She wouldn’t work for the Fire Nation. She’s one of the best warriors ever!”
“It’s nice that you’re a whole fan and all, but please someone tell me what’s happening.” Katara asked, her water going back into her container strapped to her side now that she knew the girl wasn’t a threat.
Topph smiled. “You don’t know her? Seriously, you guys need to educate yourselves. She’s known in all the Four Nations- mainly for being one of the best fighters in the world.”
The girl smiled sheepishly. “I don’t really go around telling that to everyone but thanks I guess.” She said, chuckling nervously. “Sorry, you know, for frightening you guys. I guess I shall be on my merry way.” She said, saluting them with her first two fingers on her head, spinning around and starting to walk away.
“Wait! Stop!”
The girl turned back around, looking at the boy skin the blue arrow on his head. He was a couple steps in front of the group, staff still in his hand but no longer in a threatening way, and she just then noticed the lemur on his head.
“What?” The girl asked.
“Where did you come from? And are you really a good Earth Bender?” He asked curiously, eyes widening. She laughed nervously and rubbed the back of her neck.
“Yeah, I’ve been told. And I come from the Earth Kingdom, King Oblivious.” She nicknamed him, and his cheeks got red and this time he was rubbing his neck. He chuckled awkwardly.
“Yeah, that’s pretty obvious.” He said, glancing at her clothes that were indeed Earth Kingdom attire.
“I don’t believe you.” Sokka injected, right before he suddenly flung his boomerang at her, the weapon coming straight for the girl. She didn’t spare a glance, waving her hand as the once was settled earth rose up instantly and blocked the boomerang, so instead of hitting her it just simply smacked the rock and fell to the ground.
“Don’t even try.” She said, making the rock go back down into the earth so she could see the boy’s face. Aang was watching the girl with admiration in his eyes, orbs sparkling.
Sokka dramatically wept, leaning down and grabbing his boomerang and holding it close to his chest. “Boomerang!”
Katara rolled her eyes, and walked closer to the girl.
“Well if you’re not a threat then what are you doing here?”
The girl shrugged. “I honestly don’t know. I was just exploring away from my campsite when I say an earth worm scurrying toward me.” She remarked, referencing Toph’s Earth Bending mechanism. The blind girl flushed. “Sorry.”
The girl waved her off with a simple gesture of the hand. “All good.”
Toph’s eyes suddenly widened with excitement.
“Can we keep her?” She asked desperately. Aang nodded very enthusiastically, turning to Katara. “Please?” He asked, making his eyes wide like a puppy.
The girl waved her hand again and earth came bursting up from the ground, knocking Aang over onto his back. “Oof!” He yelled. “What was that for?”
“I can’t stay with people I don’t know the names of.” She reminded.
Aang burst up with a whirl of air. “I’m Aang!” He introduced. “And this is Katara, Sokka, and Toph. Oh! And that’s Momo and Appa.” He said, pointing to each of his companions.
The girl smiled. “Cool.” She said quite sarcastically because she’s never seen a flying bison before.
“So, can we keep her?” Aang asked, begging Katara, almost on his knees beside Toph. Katara rolled her eyes.
“Whatever.”
Aang and Toph burst up out of excitement, high giving each other. (Once Toph Aang’s hand that is.)
Sokka made a noise of despair. “We’re keeping her?! She bent my boomerang!”
“Come on! You gotta show me some tricks to use against the Fire Lord.” Aang said, sleep the last thing on his mind as he grabbed her arm, leading her to the cliff that was great for Earth Bending.
Let’s just say that Sokka’s complains weren’t being listened to and the team’s so wanted rest wasn’t granted.
Thanks for requesting and I really hoped it was what you wanted! 🫶🏻
#aang x reader#earth bending reader#avatar imagine#avatar live action#avatar last airbender#atla#Sokka#katara#toph#earth kingdom#avatar the last Airbender imagines#imagines#x reader#gaang x reader#the gaang#avatar gaang#gaang imagines#stories#avatar stories#avatar imagines#y/n#Aang x y/n?
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