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mvth3r · 20 days

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daryl doesn’t think he’s anything special. he never has. but to you? he’s everything.

5 times daryl feels your affection down to his core and the many 1 time he unconsciously returns the favor.

cw: 18+ MDNI, p-in-v, mention of injury, swearing, mostly fluff, 4283 words

a/n: this draft got the most votes in the poll, which was surprising tbh! next up medieval au, princess reader, forbidden romance?? hmmmm

one.

daryl hears you coming before he sees you. he knows it’s on purpose, so you don’t startle him (“and get an arrow in the tit or something, i don’t know!” you had explained, laughing). he’s long since taught you how to be quiet when walking over leaves and branches.

his eyes drifted in the direction of the noise, watching you melt out of the trees, water bottle in one hand and knife in the other. you had a bad habit of speeding through or ignoring your own duties in favor of tracking him out into the woods while he was hunting. the teasing looks from rick and carol when they saw the gates open in the evening, revealing the two of you instead of just him, were enough to have him blushing up to his ears, but he couldn’t find it in him to stop you. if anything, daryl found himself lingering closer to the prison when he was first setting out for the day and making his tracks a little easier for you to follow as he went on. he liked to think of it as a teaching moment, encouraging you to follow his lessons, but he knew what it really was.

he liked having you here with him, away from prying eyes and ears. daryl wasn’t big on pda, he’d never been, and you knew that, but you could be as affectionate as you wanted out here.

the smile that split you face when you saw daryl was blinding, creasing your eyes and cheeks, “hey, handsome.”

daryl felt his heart start to pound immediately in his chest and warmth radiate through his belly and down his limbs. he had the distant, bizarre thought that any walker for a few miles would probably be able to smell his blood as it rose rapidly to his face, coloring his cheeks and the tips of his ears.

he scoffed quietly to keep the words he really wanted to say from spilling unbidden from his throat as you caught up to him, instead deadpanning, “handsome? really?”

you hummed, raising a hand to card through his long bangs, eyes tender when they met his, “mhm, very handsome. don’t i tell you every day?”

you leaned up to press a sweet kiss to his lips, no longer than a moment. you hand drifted from his hair down to cup his jaw as you did, and daryl found himself leaning into your palm, his own hand coming up to grip your wrist loosely.

you pulled away with a smaller, more intimate smile, one that daryl had only ever seen directed at him. and, if you had felt the pounding of his heart through his shirt or seen the intensity of his flush, you didn’t say a word.

two.

daryl was distracted.

this council meeting was dragging on much longer than intended. what was initially supposed to be a quick conversation about planning a run to get supplies for judith and a few of the other kids had turned into a heated debate about possibly opening up the council to a few of the people from woodbury. he could understand why. there was still a stark divide between their group and the new people, but daryl had been content to sit back and let the situation mend itself, so long as it didn't escalate.

the discussion was split down the middle. or.. maybe there were more in favor of maintaining the current council? daryl couldn’t tell because he couldn’t focus and he couldn’t focus because every time he tried to lock in on the conversation, he could feel your fingers brush over his knuckles.

earlier, when the meeting started, you had sat yourself right next to daryl, reached under the table, and grabbed his hand where it was resting on his knee. no fanfare, no lovesick gazes, just your fingers intertwined with his calloused ones like they belonged there. which, he mused to himself, maybe they do.

and so there your hand had remained as the meeting went on. every so often, you would brush your fingers lightly over his knuckles, or give his fingers a squeeze if you happened to catch his eyes… which would lead to you chuckling quietly to yourself when his neutral expression would warm over with a blush.

the meeting had been going on for at least an hour. god.

“daryl, what do you think?”

glenn’s voice cut through daryl’s thoughts like a knife. he jerked a little, almost dislodging your hand when he looked across the table, meeting the expectant stares of the council.

“uhh,” he grunted eloquently, “‘bout bringin’ some of them folks on?”

hershel nodded expectantly, his voice thoughtful, “don’t you think we could afford their input? after all, this is their home now just as much as it is ours.”

your fingers brushed again over his knuckles and daryl willed himself not to lose focus. not to allow his mind to run on with thoughts about the softness of your fingers and how much he liked the feeling of your palm against his. how comfortable-

no.

daryl blinked and cleared his throat, “we don’ even have rick on the council right now, i’on think it’s a good idea.”

glenn nodded along with maggie and, reluctantly a moment later, hershel did too, though his mouth had settled into a thin frown.

daryl felt your hand squeeze his twice, taking it as a nonverbal ‘good job!’, and paused only a moment before squeezing back his own nonverbal ‘thank you’. he saw a small smile flit across your face out the corner of his eye.

before the debate could start up again, you were leaning forward and speaking up, saying, “alright, let’s table this for next time then. the run is already planned for the baby stuff, so—?”

hershel’s eyes swept across the table and he nodded, “meeting adjourned, i suppose.”

three.

the woods were clear as daryl looked out over the gate. he could see everything from the watchtower, as was intended, but for once the calm darkness was not a comfort.

instead, every moment that passed heightened the panic that had been swirling in his gut since earlier that evening.

it had been roughly fourteen hours since you had left on a run with glenn and maggie. there was a small gas station a little ways out that looked to be mostly untouched, and you had been pulled to fill in daryl’s usual slot since he was already slated to go hunting.

he was regretting it now, though, as he continued to watch the road leading up to the gate for any sign of maggie’s headlights.

while the general rule of thumb was to be back to the prison before dark, everyone knew that sometimes shit happens, whether it be walkers appearing at the worst possible time, or not being able to secure the haul. hell, shit happened more often than it didn't, as far as daryl was concerned.

maybe the haul had been much larger than the three of you had planned for, and you had to hide some of it away for a return trip.

maybe y'all had come across a herd large enough to block the car's path and had to find a way around it to get home without leading them back behind you.

maybe the gas station had been a bust all together and you’d gone further out in hopes of not returning empty handed.

the thoughts swimming through his mind sent daryl pacing across the small area of the watchtower. back and forth he went, eyes flashing over to the gate of the prison every few seconds.

“you’re gonna wear out your shoes like that.”

oh right. daryl isn’t even on watch, not officially at least. he’d joined carol a little after the sun went down and been up here ever since.

carol continues on despite his brooding silence, “they’re okay. something probably held them up, it happens.”

daryl turned to face carol, scrubbing a hand down his face. he opening his mouth to respond, but before he could, the sound of wheels crunching across gravel made him whip back around.

he barely registered that it was maggie’s car before he was yanking the floor hatch open and climbing down. rick, who’d been poking around the farm despite the late hour, unwilling to admit his own anxiety, was already pulling the gate open to let the car in.

daryl stopped further up the hill to meet you, and, as soon as you popped the lock on your door, he was tugging it open with one hand and reaching for you with the other.

you went willingly, a sheepish smile on your face as you let him turn you this way and that, checking for any injuries or bites, neither of which you had.

“sorry i’m late, handsome,” you whispered, “i didn’t mean to worry you.”

daryl grunted in response, resisting the urge to press himself against you and feel your heart beat against his skin. he understood that you were capable, and that you had lasted just as long in the apocalypse as he had, but he can't help but wonder if he'll ever get used to this, or if he'll spend any moment you aren't within his reach on the edge of a panic attack.

by then, rick had made his way up the hill to the car and was helping unload their findings from the boot. all things considered, the three of you had brought back a pretty decent amount of stuff.

“everyone alright?” rick questioned, eyes skirting over the contents of the trunk to scan the three of you instead. "what held y'all up?"

maggie shook her head with a smile, “nothing like that. we found a good bit at that gas station, but there was a map of a small trailer park a little ways away, and we thought it was better to go for it while we were right down the road.”

“and we had the space anyway. didn’t make sense to waste a second trip, but it took a little longer to search than we thought,” you added. you had turned to face the group and, under the cover of the dark, you leaned back just slightly into daryl’s side.

carol, who had followed daryl down from the watchtower, hummed, and rick nodded thoughtfully. they both followed behind maggie and glenn, grabbing as much as they could carry from the car and heading up to deposit it for sorting tomorrow.

now alone, daryl took a moment to breathe you in, but he was moving soon as well, heading for the trunk to grab what was left.

he didn’t notice you coming up next to him until he felt your fingers slipping into his pocket.

“found something for you,” you said quietly, standing at his side.

daryl patted his pocket, feeling the dented box of what he assumed to be cigarettes and looked over at you, brows furrowed in confusion.

“i noticed you ran out the other day,” you answered his unasked question, a small smile lifting your cheeks, “combed through every trailer looking for ‘em.”

with that, you turned away from him and back to the trunk.

daryl stood speechless, his heart building up to that rapid thrum he only seemed to feel in your presence.

you had brought something back for him. had spent the daylight rummaging through dirty trailers on the off chance that you’d find a pack of cigarettes to replace his empty one that he himself hadn't even bothered to go searching to replace.

he wanted to think he didn’t understand why you would do something like this, why you would care, but he did. he’d done the same for you, time and time again on the road, if only to see you smile. he understood exactly why.

“‘preciate it,” he grunted, thankful that the darkness surrounding you kept his blush from being too obvious.

you hummed in acknowledgment, and daryl could your small smile growing out the corner of his eye.

four.

having sex in the prison was no easy feat, mostly due to the lack of privacy. a sheet could only provide so much, and even then it did nothing for the noise echoing constantly off the concrete walls.

as far as most were concerned, maggie and glenn had found the best spot early on, making the most unused watchtower their designated private retreat, but you and daryl knew otherwise.

deep in the tombs, which were no longer a threat as they had long since been cleared and sealed, there were a few tucked away offices that had sat empty even after the woodbury residents had been moved in. noise didn’t escape the tombs, and no one ever just wandered in, especially not in the middle of the night, so despite the cell that you and daryl shared, you both much preferred spending your more intimate moments here.

well, daryl did. you weren’t picky, and could be quiet when you really tried, but it made daryl more comfortable.

he’d like to think it was just because he was wary of any listening ears, especially with all the children roaming around, but he knew the truth of his resolve.

daryl had never been a selfish man, and certainly not after the world fell. everything he had, everything he was, he would give to his family in a heartbeat.

but this.. this was just for him.

your body arched beautifully under his, legs falling open to accommodate his weight settling against you. daryl’s hand left your heat, fingers dripping with wetness, to squeeze your hips, using them to guide you as your moved against him.

you were already bare, both of you having stripped each other of your clothes between heated kisses while you stumbled in the office. you hadn’t even made it to the double-stacked cot in the corner, daryl instead pushing you firmly down on the dusty desk and leaning in to mouth at your neck.

you moaned under him now, a breathy sigh of his name, and the sound sent a shiver down daryl’s spine.

“needy girl,” he grunted teasingly, reaching down to grasp his hardness. he dragged the head of his cock up your slit, collecting your wetness and smearing it over your clit.

your head knocked back against the desk and a loud groan burst out of your throat. your knees tried to close around daryl’s waist as if to keep him away, but you arms came up to wrap around him, pulling him closer to your body, and he leaned into you willingly.

your voice trembled when you spoke into his ear, want dripping from every syllable, “please, baby. need you inside me so bad.”

and god, daryl wanted to make you beg for it. he wanted to wait until he could see the desperation in your eyes and then wait some more, but he couldn’t. not when you looked so pretty spread out beneath him and your hands were petting over his shoulders and neck just how he liked. he almost thought you were doing it on purpose, but he knew better. this was just you.

you couldn’t stay off him when he was in you, always tugging at his hair or rubbing his chest, hands scrabbling for any skin you could reach. it used to send him reeling, flustered and blushing bright, but now he looked forward to it. he could feel the want in your touches like physical imprints of your affection.

daryl pushed into your slowly, groaning deep in his chest. your slick walls felt heavenly around him, but daryl was more focused on you right now.

soft whimpers fell from your lips as your hands drifted over his sweat slicked skin. daryl’s thrusts were slow but purposeful, and he ignored your legs squeezing around his waist, trying to urge him to speed up.

“relax, peach,” he soothed, hands drifting up and down your sides in pace with his thrusts, “i’ma take care of you.”

“kiss, please,” you whispered, voice floating past daryl’s ear. he would have missed it if you weren’t pressed together like this.

daryl would not describe himself as a selfish man. he might have had his moments in the past, but now, with the dead walking and a prison full of survivors to protect, it was virtually out of the question.

but as he leaned down to press his lips to yours, feeling your hands finally make their way up into his long strands, daryl thought that he might be a possessive man.

he’d sooner spread you out deep in the woods than have you where anyone could see you like this or hear the noises you make.

no, daryl thought, tongue sliding in your mouth to tangle with yours, this would always be just for him.

five.

daryl came into awareness slowly and then all at once. he startled, trying to sit up, but a searing pain made itself known in his abdomen. the pain clouded his senses, blooming out across his torso and down his limbs. he flops uselessly, feeling like the wind has been knocked out of him.

hearing bits of voices above him, daryl wills himself to focus. he’s hurt, obviously, and it’s pretty fucking bad, but he’ll have to suck it up and figure out a way home if he’s in bad company.

the voices start to filter in. the volume makes his temples throb in rhythm with his abdomen and his heart as the situation starts to force adrenaline through his body.

“—harder! put more pressure on it!”

daryl relaxes just a bit. that’s rick. frantic, angry, but rick all the same.

“what the fuck do you think i’m doing?!” the other voice, higher, snarls in response, “just drive the damn truck!”

and daryl feels his body try to relax all together. he would recognize your voice in his sleep, and this milky haze of pain is no different. he can feel your hands pressing a wad of something soft into his abdomen.

he can hear your panicked breaths and feel the way your fingers flex continuously against his skin. whatever’s wrong with him must be bad, and it definitely hurts like hell, but daryl takes comfort in the weight of your body against his. you won’t let anything happen to him if you can help it, you’d sworn that fiercely, and if you can’t help it then he doesn’t think anyone could have.

daryl can just barely make out the creaking of the gate being pulled open over the sound of rick laying on the horn.

as they pull in, the gravel of the path rocks the truck and daryl feels the ache in his abdomen bloom again, distracting him from his thoughts, but here, knowing he’s safe and back with his family, he allows himself to drift away.

—

this time, when daryl comes into awareness, the first thing he feels is fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently as if to untangle a couple of knots and snarls.

without even opening his eyes he knows it’s you. he can feel the heat of your body settled next to him and smell the soap you like to bathe with. daryl leans towards you, chasing the warmth of your hand against his skin.

the bandages on his stomach are wrapped tight, but it’s more annoying than anything and the pain has finally, thankfully, subsided to a dull ache. daryl stretches on the cot, trying to loosen him limbs from their inactivity, but what he focuses on is your fingers immediately pulling away.

“daryl?” your voice prods quietly, “you awake?”

he opens his eyes slowly, squinting at the sunlight that streams through the bars of the cell. the privacy sheet isn’t down, actually there’s no sheet at all, daryl notes as he looks out. he must be in one of the cells near hershel’s.

“‘m up,” he grumbles, a cough working its way out of his throat. before he can attempt to clear the dryness, you’re standing to grab a bottle of water off some boxes stacked nearby and pressing it into his hand.

your fingers linger against his wrist as you pull away, but you’re resuming your previous position anyway, in a chair brought right up to his bedside.

daryl hasn’t sat up yet, staring instead at you as one of your hands return to his hair and the other rubs down his arm.

a few quiet moments pass before you speak again, head bowed and voice a little choked, “we almost lost you. i almost lost you.”

“didn’t though,” daryl croaks. he feels your grip tighten on his arm and just knows. knows that you’ve been sitting right here every moment that you could since he went down. knows that you probably haven’t had your hands off him. knows you’ve spent the time, however long it’s been, agonizing over what went wrong and how to keep it from happening ever again. he knows.

“i didn’t,” you agree with a barely restrained sniffle. you refuse to allow the tears beading your waterline to fall, but daryl sees them all the same.

oddly, he feels that familiar warmth blossom in his chest. he hates to see you upset, but to see your love, your heart laid so bare for him? daryl thinks he can finally understand the depth of your affections.

plus one.

to anybody who knew what to look for, it was obvious that you and daryl were.. something.

you remembered when the woodbury residents had really began to settle in, how they began to whisper about ‘the hunter and his lady’.

it had confused you at first. the group knew, of course, nothing could be kept a secret from them for too long, but for strangers? it was odd, given that you weren’t very public with your affections.

regardless, with an entire prison to secure and almost triple the amount of people to provide for, it was nothing to think too hard about. there was always something that needed to be done or something bigger to think about. you couldn't afford to think about it now.

eventually, though, you ended up mentioning it to carol, and the older woman had laughed, a teasing edge to her smile as she considered you.

“i think it has less to do with you and more with him, if i’m being honest,” she said.

“more to do with.. daryl?” you said slowly, raising an incredulous eyebrow, “nah, no way.”

carol hummed, her smile turning knowing, “just watch. he’s more affectionate than he gives himself credit for.”

you’d left the conversation feeling like carol had no idea what she was talking about. later that evening, though, when you were sitting with the group for dinner and daryl was sliding a couple pieces of meat from his plate to yours despite your multiple protests, you understood.

your face must have been the textbook picture of a lightbulb going off because carol sent you a wink from across the table, lips twitching like she was hiding a laugh.

it wasn’t that the woodbury residents were over analyzing the very minimal physical affection that passed between you and daryl in a day, no. instead they were observing his quieter, more unconscious actions.

they saw the way that daryl always took care to come and find you before leaving for a run, even if it meant holding everyone up a little.

and how every so often they could find daryl sharpening a knife that was far too small for him to be wielding safely while you sat nearby, watching with a grateful smile.

and how whenever you were in the same room, you always had his eye. daryl had been adamant about keeping you within his sights while you were on the road, and the habit hadn’t left him just because you were behind walls now.

even now, months later, the newer additions to the prison were starting to catch on quicker and quicker.

they overheard daryl talking to glenn about taking your place on the run later today because you’d overdone it in the sun earlier and he wanted you to get some rest.

they saw you gush excitedly every time daryl brought you back any kind of gift, whether it be a pretty rock that he thought you’d like, or your favorite animal to cook into the stew.

they watched him watch the road every time you left for a run, regardless of who was with you, and also saw him come back to be the first to greet you when you returned if he could help it.

daryl was a quiet lover and a private man if you didn’t know what to look for, but if you did, you’d see that his affections ran just as deep as yours.

your thoughts brought a sleep smile to your face as you stretched out on the cot in your shared cell, waiting for daryl to shut off the lantern on your makeshift nightstand in the corner.

you could barely make him out in the dark, but the weight of him settling in next to you sent you right into his arms, your head pillowed on his chest while his arms came up to wrap around your back.

you tilted your head up to place a small kiss to the bottom of his jaw, mumbling a quiet, “love you.”

daryl’s arms tightened around you momentarily before loosening again. you felt him lean down to press a kiss to your hair in turn.

just over the steady thumping of his heart against your ear, you could hear him whisper back, “love you too.”

#daryl dixon #daryl dixon x reader #daryl dixon imagine #twd imagine #daryl x reader

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fairycheol · 3 months

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Sunday Morning

luke castellan x apollo!fem!reader

cw: pure fluff, kissing, minor injury, a little bit of angst

Everyone at Camp Half-Blood knew how good you were at your job as head counselor for the Apollo cabin. You were strong and agile, and had a great hand in archery, healing, singing and dancing. You were everything an Apollo kid needed to be.

Apollo himself took pride in that. Sending you arrows crafted by Artemis and even requesting Hephaestus make a gold bow just for you. His favorite daughter.

Everyone at camp also knew you as the girl who had stolen Luke Castellan’s heart. The two of you arrived at camp only a day apart, and despite being claimed by Apollo two weeks into your stay at the Hermes cabin, you were able to form a bond with the boy. A bond surely impossible to break. Right?

This Sunday morning was no different then any other day, the sun was up earlier than usual and in true Apollo kid fashion you followed with it. As a camp counselor it was your duty to take on the heavier jobs in camp. Hunting for food with some of the Artemis girls, gathering herbs with the Demeter cabin and other things.

Today’s chores involved restocking the infirmary, Capture the Flag was approaching and knowing Clarisse La Rue there was sure to be a few kids walking in with narly bruises after.

“What’s up Sunshine?” Turning around to the sound of a deep voice from the infirmary entrance you see Luke. His hair is messy and his shirt is inside out. Unlike the other cabins at camp, the Apollo kids don’t get the luxury of sleeping in late.

“Hey Curls you’re up bright and early,”

“Yeah well, Mr.D said I could help you with restocking the infirmary and I won’t pass up an opportunity to spend some time with you.” By this point Luke has walked forward so you stand toe to toe with him. Wrapping your arms around his neck you give him a quick kiss on the lips,

“Well that’s awfully sweet of you,” Luke leans in for another kiss but is stopped by your pointer finger being pushed against his lips

“But! you should probably fix your shirt. It’s inside out and I don’t want you to come mopping to me when Chris makes fun of you for it.” With a pat to his cheek you leave the infirmary closing the door behind you.

When Luke finally joins you outside his hair has been tidied and his shirt has been fixed so you grab his hand and begin to head for the forest.

The two of you spend the next two or so hours in pure harmony and bliss. Throwing strawberries at one another and stealing a few kisses.

Nothing could this moment, except maybe the raging storm that was soon approaching in the form of a 12 year old boy.

#luke castellan imagine #luke castellan x reader #pjo x reader #luke castellan imagines

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http-tokki · 6 months

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my fucking elbow!

~ levi ackerman x reader ~ tags/cw: fluff, explicit language, established relationships, canonverse. ~wc: 530

The piercing howl that rips from your throat has Levi jumping into action. Springing over his desk and across the small office, he is in the dim kitchenette a second after the cry left you. He pants as he searches for you, eyes frantically darting around the room, heartbeat quickening with each passing second until he spots you crumpled in on yourself, arms wrapped around your shaking frame, fingers gripping your elbows.

"What's happening, why are you? What's wrong?" The words spill out of him, an unfiltered stream of concern flowing between his lips.

Levi reaches you, dropping to his knees on the hard tile and grips your shoulders. He tears you upright, panic flooding his bloodstream in a cold flash. Tears line your eyes, eyebrows furrowed in pain, and teeth gritted as you hiss.

"My fucking elbow."

Levi blinks slowly, pulling away from you as the realisation sets in.

"I hit my elbow, and it really hurts." You're crying now, fat tears spilling over your cheeks as you rub your aching joint.

Levi sits back on his haunches, a smile cracking at the absurdity. You, a decorated war hero and veteran, had just screamed and carried on as if you had been fatally wounded. He had seen you rip an arrow from your thigh, patch together your slashed arm, reposition your dislocated knee without so much as a cry, and now a knock to your elbow had you seizing up and crying?!

"Stop laughing! It hurts!" you whine, weakly kicking at your laughing husband.

"I'm not laughing at you; it's just the situation," he explains, pushing your hair back from your face. "I've seen your experience worse, and this is the injury that brings you down?" it is impossible to keep the laughter from infiltrating his every word. "I'm sorry. Are you okay, my love?"

You sniff and turn away from him, still cradling your arms and sigh loudly. "You're so mean. I hope you hurt your elbow, and when you cry about this, I'll laugh at you, too!" A giggle slips through your offended facade.

Levi stands, knees popping and aching at the move against gravity and snorts at your dramatics. "I'm going to be so careful now to not hit my elbow, and you'll never get to laugh at me!"

The exchange is childish, but it feels good; it feels natural to laugh and tease in light of the world around you. These moments are few and far between, but when they do happen, you are grateful to see a side of your lover you rarely do these days. You watch as Levi turns away, walking back into his office to finish the work he had abandoned in favour of your safety, and once he is out of sight, you turn your attention back to your bruised arm. The tingling and pain have subsided, a small purple bloom, the only remnant of the torture your nervous system was under not two seconds ago; you poke the small mark to test the level of pain you would feel if you were to hit it again but are interrupted by Levi's scream from the room over.

"I just stubbed my fucking toe!"

a/n: i got to see my baby again for one last time ahhhh I lub him s much I wanna cry please levi become real and let me love you

#attack on titan levi #levi attack on titan #levi #levi ackerman x reader #levi x reader fluff #levi x reder #levi x y/n #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader drabble #levi ackerman x reader fluff #levi ackerman imagine #aot x reader #aot fluff #aot imagine #levi ackerman drabble

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vilhelios · 2 months

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— SWIM WITH ME / I THINK I CAN SEE THE BEACH;

( i need you here with me / but we're out in the open. ) ; romantic headcanons for abysswalker!rafayel ♡ more under the cut!

CW: spoilers for rafayel's "sea of golden sand" myth + general abysswalker rafayel lore ; fluff ; angst ; hurt/comfort ; mentions of blood, injury, and self-harm (rafayel plucks off his scales) : might feel a little ooc because it is abysswalker and not main story rafayel ; quite the word dump (bc i rattle my cage for him)

— as the morning light of the desert creeps into the dim of a tent, two bodies lay tangled in the warmth of each other. RAFAYEL sleeps light and wakes early—hours before the sun peeks over the golden dunes—and although the habit irks him, it does offer him a wonderful sight as compensation: the sight of you, bathed in the soft, rose-gold light of morning, hair a mess, marks littering your skin from where the sheets pressed up against you.

overcome with a love that warms him like molten gold, the young god cannot help but litter your face in butterfly kisses. two to the apples of your cheeks, one on the tip of your nose, the corners of your lips, the middle of your temple. when you shift in your sleep, groan at his ministrations, rafayel can only chuckle, nuzzling his face into the crook of your neck. he thinks he can hear amund yell for his presence. he couldn't care less.

— RAFAYEL sees himself as the sword at the hilt of your belt, the dagger in your hands that you should use as you see fit, the steady hand guiding your own, drawing your bowstring. he is your ever faithful shadow, always at your side, a watchful gaze always on you. it is only natural for one to protect the keeper of their heart... which is why you and the medical kit from the nurse's tent have gotten well acquainted with each other.

"one of these days, you're going to listen to me." you sigh, gently peeling aside the torn leather of his garb. rafayel does not wince; you don't think you've ever seen him do so, not when he ripped that arrow from his shoulder, or when he stumbles back to your tent with a bloody gash on his chest, or when he's brandishing new bruises on his knuckles. the royal guards seem intent on tracking you down, crossing all of philos's 30,000 zetameters of sand to lock you up in your gilded cage again.

rafayel seems equally intent to ensure that doesn't happen, even if it means throwing himself into their line of fire.

"if i listen to you," the lemurian starts, violet gaze trained on the gentle workings of your fingers, "they'll take you from me again, back to the palace." his breath hitches the slightest—at the thought of you leaving him again, or at the too-harsh tug of the bandage, you're not sure.

— some nights, RAFAYEL is awoken by dreams—horrible, lifelike nightmares. it's sudden, a jolt that has him taking in rapid breaths, a tremor in his hands. "a nightmare", he tells you, when you stir awake and ask him what's wrong in a groggy voice that makes his heart ache, "just a nightmare, sweetheart. nothing to worry about." he waits until he hears your breathing slow once more, pressing kisses to your temple all the while, before slinking out of the tent and into the cold desert air. he'll return to your side before the sun rises, but for now, with still-stuttering breaths, he just needs some time to clear his head.

in his nightmares, a butterfly flaps its wings just the wrong way and rafayel is landed in a world where he is as cold-blooded as amund wished he was. he is back in the ruins of the isle of songs, your hand guiding his own (white-knuckled, dagger brandished) to the place where your heart thrums beneath. and unlike himself, rafayel takes the chance: takes back what is his, what was never yours to keep. the god of the sea was a foolish, lovesick man. he would not make the same mistake.

the dagger sinks into your flesh, the ease of it wrong. your blood flows onto his palms, gets into all the creases of his gloves, spills onto the barren earth and dyes the returning sea red. it is so, so warm against his skin, warms the fire in him that threatened to fizzle out. (he has always been a selfish man, he knows. it is only right that he is no better than bloodthristy philos.) the look dream-you gives him, before he awakes from this cruel world, sears itself into the back of his eyelids. he can see it still, when he looks at the dark of the night sky: reverent, loving. (how could you not, when he has freed you yet again?)

— often, you ask RAFAYEL to tell you tales of the ocean; more specifically, its creatures! what were those rays he spoke of, or the sharks, or those star-shaped things? do the lemurians actually eat them? your lover finds your boundless curiousity incredibly endearing, chuckling whenever your eyes seem to light up at the mention of some new deep-sea fish.

"this is a whale shark." rafayel says, and you watch as the scale in his hands transforms into a small purple apparition. it's as long as his pointer finger, heteroceral tail flicking as it swims in the flame currents, light purple spots patterning its black back. "they are gentle things, despite their size. they only ever eat plankton. i used to have one as a pet, long ago."

"how cute!" you laugh, waggling your finger in front of the shark and watching it follow. "did you have other pets?" and at that, he procures another silver scale, places it into your palms and covers it with his own. a barreleye manifests, and you grin when it's luminous purple eyes stare up at you.

(rafayel ignores the sting in his arm, pinpricks of blood soaking his garb from where he'd plucked some scales off. the wonder in your eyes is more than worth it.)

— helping the LEMURIANS with their daily chores within the camp comes like second nature to you. there is always so much to do: collect jars upon jars of water from the nearby oasis, prepare food, feed the camels, record the state of the camp's supplies... all the while, you feel RAFAYEL'S eyes on your form, your ever cautious vassal. with a little smile, you pretend you don't notice his lavender gaze, if only to spare him from the flushed ears.

it's surprisingly simple, making that lemurian cake: tapioca flour, camel's milk, a healthy dash of sugar, and citrus rind... when the sweet old woman you've spent the afternoon baking with feeds you a slice, you think you've simply ascended. back then, rafayel had fed you one that was cold and a little stale—probably as it was a part of his rations for long journeys. perhaps he'd like one that was far fresher, and baked with love?

... which is how rafayel found himself with a wicker basket full of cake shoved into his hands, and an awaiting you in front of him. "you've been training a while, haven't you?" you smile, taking one of the soft slices and bringing it up to his lips; "try it for me, please!"

and as obedient as ever, rafayel takes a bite, sweetness and citrus on his tongue. "it's good," he hums, kisses your fingertips, "tell me when you're making it next time, love. i'd love to help."

— the LEMURIANS, you remember, were masters of the arts: singing, painting, poetry... so it's no surprise, then, that they celebrate their craft almost every night: children crowd around a charming poet, hooked on every word of their newest bedtime story—his newest fable, that is (something about a fish and a bird, who wished to visit a bakery); the musicians have already begun their newest improvised song, a lively version of an old elegy, it seems; the bonfire in the centre burns high into the night sky like it was trying to reach the stars itself, and when the lemurians dance around it their shadows are long against the sands. you don't know how, but you're eventually dragged into the dance yourself. the glee is infectious, and you find yourself instinctively looking for your beloved.

RAFAYEL doesn't indulge in dancing often, as fun as it may be. he knows the steps, his feet still tapping to the rhythm of the tambourines even as he nonchalantly leans against the tent pole in the distance. it is second nature, now, but his eyes always find you, even in the crowd of people—you, laughing and twirling around without a care in the world. it makes his heart race, a smile creeping onto his own features. he watches you dance with his people, linking arms and being spun around; for a moment he wonders if he should join just to be your one and only dance partner.

... he doesn't notice when you've escaped his gaze, but before he knows it, you've snuck up on him and wrapped a shawl around his neck, dragging him towards the crowd; "dance with me, rafa!"

and how can he refuse a shared moment that transcends lifetimes—across shimmering oceans, and marble floor ballrooms, and golden sands? rafayel's stumbling forward into you until his arms take their rightful place around your form. his hands find the small of your back and yours hold onto his shoulders, shawl long abandoned on his neck. this is second nature, galaxies colliding, two souls becoming one.

— after all of the night's festivities are said and done—the musicians pack up their flutes, lyres, and tambourines; the children cover up their yawns with still-red palms from clapping to tonight's tunes; the remaining food is safely packed away for tomorrow—it's just you, RAFAYEL, and the dwindling embers of the fire he'd just stomped out. "i do believe even your highness is not exempt from curfew," he hums, takes your hand in his, and presses his lips to the knuckles.

and in the silence of your tent, coveted in the silver hues of moonlight, rafayel sits you down before him, your back leaning against his chest. his arms wrap around your frame, his chin resting on the crook of your neck. this is your ritual, on too-cold nights: rafayel lights a flickering flame in his palms, the black and violet embers cold as ever. you both stare into this dying fire—you both know what is to come.

sometimes, when the ugly concoction of guilt and sorrow prick at your very soul, your hand reaches up to entwine with his own, just as they did to guide his dagger to your heart. "i won't." rafayel says, and you know what he means. "i will never hurt you." he doesn't complete the sentence, the words dying on his tongue, but you know the rest (there is no other end to this story): i would rather die.

a/n : i need abysswalker carnally it's not even funny anymore 🤩 these were. not supposed to be this long (they are like little fics in themselves omg). but i love this rafa so much i think he deserves it. thank you for the love on the previous rafa content <3 it makes me so happy seeing people who also love this lil guy. the dancing with rafa hc is very much so inspired by "through heaven's eyes" from the prince of egypt! <3333

#love and deepspace x reader #rafayel x reader #rafayel fluff #rafayel headcanons #love and deepspace headcanons #qi yu headcanons #love and deepspace fluff #qi yu x reader #abysswalker rafayel

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sonder-paradise · 2 years

Text

𝐓𝐚𝐤𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐚 𝐇𝐢𝐭 𝐅𝐨𝐫 𝐓𝐡𝐞𝐦 — 𝐆𝐞𝐧𝐬𝐡𝐢𝐧 𝐈𝐦𝐩𝐚𝐜𝐭

◊ characters. xiao, kazuha, heizou, scaramouche, gn!reader

◊ genre. angst to fluff?

◊ cw. ya get hurt lol, like stabby stabby hurt and i describe how

— 𝐗𝐢𝐚𝐨

the second it happens, he can feel this deep, carnal regret erupt from within him. he shouldn’t have allowed you to come with. you should have stayed at wangshu inn and awaited his return. now a shower of rocks cascades upon the two of you and he stumbles for a moment to reach out for you. “xiao, wait!”

hearing his name, he’s stunned when your hand collides with his chest and he gets pushed back. the pit of his stomach dropping as you’re flung backwards and thrown into the mountainside. he can barely call out your name before the tides of his anger erupt to eliminate his enemy.

xiao is at your side in an instant and the second you know it, you’ve returned to the inn. he’s trying to stay calm and assess your injuries. all the while silent and eerily passive. “xiao, are you hurt?” and that’s when he finds himself staring at you. his eyes gloss over for a moment and he can’t seem to stop shaking.

“you’re hurt. why are you asking me such a thing? i should have protected you instead,” he whispers into your palm when you clasp his cheek. your body tenses but you know the injuries will heal. “i’ll always protect you though. so don’t worry, i’m right here.”

— 𝐊𝐚𝐞𝐝𝐞𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚 𝐊𝐚𝐳𝐮𝐡𝐚

blade in hand, he’s always relied on you to watch his back. however, your travels to mondstadt have taken quite the turn. blocked by the road, the two of you make quick work of the last treasure hoarders. “i believe that takes care of all of them,” he says, briefly looking over you for any blemishes.

your mouth opens to answer but he’s unsure whether or not you truly spoke as the next thing he knows he’s tumbling to the dirt; dust flies up into the air and taints the surroundings a misty brown. he can barely see but through the dust he can make out your figure hovering over him.

“kazuha…?” you gasp, stumbling back and into his arms as he’s just barely gotten up. the last wounded treasure hoarder stands above you, crossbow empty and arrow lodged in your thigh. kazuha’s quick to avenge you. but his eyes widen in a mute horror as he drags you away from the danger.

blood stains his fingers as he works diligently to patch you back up safely. “please don’t ever do that again, my love. i couldn’t bare to watch you hurt yourself for me,” he says, hands trembling as he bandages your shoulder. “i’m fine now thanks to you though. i would have done it again if needed.” kazuha sighs, leaning his head against yours in half-relief and half-worry.

— 𝐒𝐡𝐢𝐤𝐚𝐧𝐨𝐢𝐧 𝐇𝐞𝐢𝐳𝐨𝐮

you tagging along during a bit of sleuthing never hurt. heizou enjoyed the company and your presence helped him think. the evening waned on with little hindrances. just a few flirtations from both parties until the time to grow serious came. investigating this particular case never seemed dangerous until things quickly fled in the wrong direction.

heizou’s desperate to get you out of here. the wandering samurai lunges forward, katana brandished and aiming in your direction. he’s quick to get you out of harm’s way even if you have your own weapon in hand. “you have to get out of here!”

“i’m not leaving you here!” heizou grits his teeth at your words but nothing else can be said before his name flies out of your mouth and he finds himself stumbling to the ground, gripping onto the dirt to stabilize himself. the sword rips into your shoulder blade and heizou’s breath leaves him.

he can barely remember what happens after that, the only thing on his mind is getting you out of there. you’re in his arms in a second and he can feel your blood staining his clothing. “shush, it’s fine. they’re gone now. just… just hold on i’m right here.” he can feel the iron sting of blood in his mouth as he bites the inside of his mouth, praying that you’ll be alright.

— 𝐒𝐜𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐦𝐨𝐮𝐜𝐡𝐞

he’s honestly not used to someone being by his side during missions. especially not you of all people. he feels a little more self-aware of his actions and his tone. still, he needs to get the job done and your assistance is certainly better than him doing it entirely alone.

but he curses under his breath when things go wrong. the plans are burning faster than he can even keep up with and now you’re stuck under this crumbling infrastructure of deluded lies with him. scaramouche isn’t even sure when or how you appeared next to him but when the wet splatter of blood hits his cheek his eyes widen.

your name tumbles from his lips faster than he can even react to your violent shove. as you crumple to the ground, he’s wrapping you up in his arms. you can see the fragility in his eyes as he stares down at you. blood pooling in a crimson puddle around you as your eyes flicker shut.

light seeps in eventually and you find yourself staring at the ceiling of an unknown medical ward. your body aches with a pain slotted within your chest and examining your surroundings you’re surprised to see scaramouche worriedly pacing the room. he stops when he sees you’re awake.

“you idiot! what the hell were you thinking taking the hit like that! do you even understand—“

“are you alright?” he stops, staring at you incredulously but at the same time relief washes over his body in a tidal wave.

“i’m… fine,” he mumbles, going to your side in an instant. he takes your hand in his, quietly accepting your decision.

Taglist: @xo-cuteplosion-xo @ik8 @nonsense-corner @ireallylikehamsters

#[🖋] writing #also if anyone asks #yes the header is a haikyuu doujin #🧍‍♀️#i wrote this at 4 am #kazuha x reader #kazuha drabbles #kaedehara kazuha #xiao x reader #xiao x y/n #xiao scenarios #heizou x reader #heizou angst #heizou fluff #scaramouche x reader #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x y/n #genshin x reader #genshin drabbles

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i-drop-level-one-loot · 7 months

Text

🎃 Friday the 13th 🎃

Happy Friday the 13th!! Why not celebrate with our boy, Jason Voorhees? This is pre-zombie Jason, which going by the canon of the films, means that he is sexually active (a rapist)

Knife Play CW: Non-con, knife play, minor character death, stalking, mild reader injury, blood, brief urine mention, Jason Voorhees x GN!Reader ❤️

(Reader) didn't know how long they had been running for. The muscles in their legs burned and it felt as though their rib cage wasn't large enough to take in the amount of oxygen required for their escape. Everything was on fire and their exposed skin was littered in cuts, but they couldn't stop. Even taking a second to catch their breath would disrupt the momentum and (Reader) would lose the adrenaline propelling them through the woods.

All of their friends were dead. They had gone to Camp Crystal Lake to set it up for the upcoming summer, and (Reader) had been looking forward to working with children. But in less than a day, all of the young adults preparing the camp were picked off one by one. (Reader) had woken up to the sound of Jennifer's screaming as her life was cut short, her body stuck to the side of the cabin with arrows.

The exhausted (Reader) sprinted blindly through the dark, not knowing where the road was, only aiming away from the camp. They wore a t shirt and pajama shorts, so the branches and brambles sliced open paper thin cuts across their arms and legs, stinging as their sweat dripped into the fresh nicks.

An axe suddenly swung in front of (Reader's) face, barely missing their nose as it lodged into a tree they were running past. On reflex (Reader) threw themselves back, landing hard on their ass and shuffling backwards from the weapon. The man with the sack over his head emerged from behind the tree, yanking the axe out of the wood easily.

"No, no, no!" (Reader) begged, knowing that their sobs were in vain. "Please don't, I'm so sorry! I'm sorry!"

The man stopped, looking down at the person below him through his single eye hole. (Reader) didn't know if he was pausing out of confusion, pity, or amusement, but they continued pleading, praying it wasn't the latter.

"I'm so sorry! You-you're Jason, right? These are your woods? I'm so sorry! I'm sorry, please don't hurt me!" Tears and snot dribbled down their contorted face, blurring their vision and suffocating them as they choked on their sobs.

Jason's head subtly dipped as his eye traveled down from (Reader's) face to their bare legs painted in tiny scabs. The heavy axe fell from his hand, planting next to him in the soft dirt.

But before (Reader) could breathe a sigh of relief a hunting knife was pulled from his back pocket. (Reader) tried to scoot away faster, but Jason was on his knees, straddling their legs before they could shimmy away.

The cold metal of his blade gently tickled (Reader's) thigh. It's tip was pressed against their skin only enough to feel the scraping against their goosebumps, but not enough to draw blood. Jason raised it up to their shorts, the sensation causing involuntary shakes across (Reader's) body. They whimpered in fear, but it seemed to be misunderstood by the murderer. The knife traveled from the outer part of their left thigh towards the middle, sliding up under their pajamas until it poked the front of their underwear.

(Reader) cried out, too frightened to move with the sharpened blade so close to their genitals.

In one swift movement Jason sliced through their bottoms, cutting in open and revealing (Reader's) urine soaked undergarments. He brought the knife back down into the underwear, peeling it off their wet body to examine the humiliated victim.

A blood and dirt crusted finger caressed (Reader), rubbing across their sensitive organ. (Reader) squeezed their eyes shut, unable to stop themselves from convulsing. His calloused touch sent unwanted shocks through their nerves.

Their hands flew to his face unintentionally, lashing out like a cornered animal, but all that resulted in was a punch to the face, breaking their nose under his fist and recoiling back into the earth.

Jason held the knife against (Reader's) throat, warning them against thrashing about. Searing pain bloomed across their neck as the sharp edge pierced their skin.

He didn't prepare their hole, pulling his pants down far enough to reveal his erection, and tore (Reader's) underwear off, throwing it unceremoniously into the forest.

(Reader) couldn't contain their blood curdling scream as his cock entered their body, the only lubrication for their unprepared hole was their piss from (Reader's) earlier accident.

The knife dug deeper into their flesh, holding them down to the ground as Jason began fucking them.

It felt like they were bleeding down below, but they couldn't see anything past the shiny blade. (Reader's) horrified eyes could only see their own terrified reflection.

His thrusts turned erratic and her began grunting as he approached his climax. Wet sounds of precum and blood filled the night air as his heavy balls slapped against (Reader's) ass. Each thrust forced the entire length of his member into (Reader's) body, grinding his pelvis against their's painfully, bruising the front of (Reader's) hips.

Then, his whole body trembled, spasming against (Reader) as he reached his orgasm. The knife finally left (Reader's) body as Jason stood, his cock twitched as a few more pumps of hot fluid spilled out, splattering across (Reader's) stomach.

'Is this it? Am I going to die now?'

(Reader) clenched their jaw, prepared to be put out of their misery. They accepted their fate.

But, to (Reader's) surprise and horror, Jason buttoned up his pants and grabbed (Reader) by the leg, dragging them through the woods.

"Wait, no! Please stop!" They whined, finally finding their voice again. However, it seemed that Jason had plans for them. He continued on his path, bringing his new friend home to meet his mom.

#kinktober #friday the 13th #happy Friday the 13th!!!#cw noncon #cw knife #cw blo0d #jason vorhees x reader #pre zombie jason voorhees #bad writing #thank you for reading #not proofread

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angelkissiies · 1 year

Text

prophetic

abby anderson x scar!reader

cw : mentions of canon violence, injuries, canon doesn’t exist here, slow burn as fuck, literal bare minimum romance but like ,, you can feel it.

wc : 5.5k

a/n : i did NOT proof read this ,, i finished it at 4am and it was 11 pages. nooooo way. hope you enjoy !

The rain pelted you as you followed closely behind the boy, shielding him from sight as you pushed through the dense forest, hearing sharp whistles coming closer and closer no matter how fast you’d tried to run. It felt endless, the harsh scratches of the branches on your skin as you held the machete close- praying you didn’t end up having to use it.

“Demons!” Lev whisper-shouted, altering you to the growling that seemed to be encroaching faster than the seraphites could- their hellacious moans of plea ingrained into your memory. He tried to ready his bow, pulling an arrow from his quiver before your hand rose to stop him- hand securing around his wrist.

You shook your head, pointing ahead to the glow of fire in the distance, the area was populated solely by seraphites now- seeing as the treaty fell through. That meant even the smallest noise that could indicate human life would be used as a call sign, sending the hunters out. With a group coming in from behind you and no way to go ahead, you nodded towards the right path, that being the only one seemingly uninhabited. You loosened your grip, urging him to take hold of Yara and run.

Yara nodded swiftly, understanding your plan wordlessly. It was just like that between you two, spending so much time together growing up- despite the age difference, you could read each other like a book. “May she protect you.” She spoke in a hushed whisper, coming to take hold of Lev and practically drag him away from you. She didn’t want to leave you, but she knew you wouldn’t take no for an answer, choosing to trust you knew a way out of this.

“May she guide you.” You whispered, not loud enough for her to hear as you bolted towards the left, hearing a sharp whistle follow your movements. The goal was to make as much noise as possible, draw them as far as you could from Yara and Lev so they could find a safe place to hide out. They were the ones the elders wanted most of all, your collaboration being shaken off as rebellious youth. If you got caught, your punishment wouldn’t be half as bad as the torture that awaited them back home.

The rain picked up, soaking through your clothes as you flew blindly through the trees. You could feel the branches snagging your clothes, causing rips in the loose material before you came to a sudden stop- the whistling seemingly coming to an end as you panted. It was quiet, not even the growling of demons permeating the tense overhang of silence, causing your stomach to lurch. They knew you were here, so where were they?

You got your answer as you felt two arms wrap around your waist, pinning your arms to your side, causing your machete to fall to the damp forest floor. “We found an apostate!” A gruff voice shouted, making your ears ring, their fingers digging into your skin hard enough that you began to feel blood trickle. “No more running.”

You stifled a scream, not wanting to give them the satisfaction. You knew this was bad, worse than bad actually, feeling another set of hands come to grip your left arm- allowing the first man to settle into the flesh of your right. You’d begun to make peace with the idea of dying tonight, your suffering surely ending in a much swifter way than they’d allow Lev or Yara. It was worth it, in your eyes, to die for such a cause. “The prophet abhors blind followers of evil.” You choked out, trying to dig your heels into the ground as they drug you back towards the fire.

The man on the right snorted, almost choking on his spit as he laughed. “Don’t tell me what the prophet abhors, apostate.” He snarled, squeezing tighter as he pushed through a thick brush. “You hold no right to her words.” As much as you hated to admit it, he was right. Your ties to the prophet being cut when you chose to leave, to search for freedom elsewhere.

They pushed a thick branch out of the way, the harsh orange firelight blinding you as they came to a stop before a woman you recognized as Helah. If there was one person you’d always be able to find in a crowd, it was her. From her spindly arms to the mass of dark hair pinned to her scalp, she’d always sent a chill down your spine, now more so- her focus being on a girl struggling to keep her feet on a bucket just a tad too short, a rope tightening around her thick neck.

Her impossibly dark eyes settled on you as she turned, letting her knife fall to her side as she looked upon you in contempt. “You.” She spoke, tilting her head as she came closer. With every step she took towards you, you could slowly begin to make out the splatter of blood that burned her unnaturally pale face- making you shift uncomfortably in the men's arms, from what you could gather- these bodies were her doing. “Your mother begged us to find you, to save you from the demons.”

You winced at the mention of your mother, imagining her falling to her knees before the elders- begging them to spare the only daughter she’d ever come to bring full term. You tried to shake off the thoughts, knowing this was her game, manipulation being her weapon of choice. You couldn’t let her get the high ground, not knowing what could possibly come of her supposed ‘mercy’ as allotted by the elders. “The only demons I need saving from are you people.”

One of the men kicked your legs out from under you, making you fall forward as they finally relinquished their grip on your arms. The feeling of the moist earth under you was an almost welcome sensation if it hadn’t been for the words you’d heard slipping from the lips of the woman standing above you now.

“Clip her wings.”

A horrified scream was ripped from your throat as you tried to scramble off of the ground, motions halted by hands pushing you back down- cheek pressed roughly into the hard ground. You could feel the rocks digging into your skin as you tried to wriggle away, harsh sobs falling from your lips. As a last resort, you cast your eyes upward, coming to connect with the dangling girl.

She looked on in gargled disbelief, face turning an unhealthy shade of red as she held your gaze. What did they mean by clipping your wings? It wasn’t something she’d ever heard of in passing during the time of the treaty. Her stomach lurched, as she watched you closely, almost forgetting the fact that she was also fighting for her life. Though, she couldn’t manage to tear her gaze away, the horror in your eyes sending shivers down her spine. In those moments, it felt like time moved in slow motion, watching as the repulsive-looking man brought down a massive hammer to the joint of your elbow. The screams embedded themselves into her chest, every shrill, ear-piercing noise committed to memory.

You couldn’t breathe, the white-hot pain filling your entire body as you felt him hand off the hammer. The shock had sent your body into a primal shudder, twitching uncontrollably as you tried to conceptualize the pain- you had to get up. You had to get up now. Your working arm was held down in place, dirty nails cutting into your skin, leaving you to try to use your broken one as leverage. “Oh, god.” You whimpered, the pain shooting into your shoulder with every movement.

Suddenly, the man’s hand on your wrist went limp- the large hammer coming to land with an obnoxious thump on the ground by your head. The newfound freedom giving you the chance to pull yourself away from the other man, hand securing on the fallen hammer. As you turned yourself around, you saw the man lying with an arrow poking out from the back of his head, though your curiosity was short-lived- attention being caught by the short, struggling breaths coming from behind you.

The girl secured her legs around Helah’s throat, holding her in place as she struggled with catching small puffs of air. You stared in amazement for a moment before sense kicked back in, pushing yourself off of the ground. The pain took a backseat to the problem at hand, legs trembling under your weight as you used your remaining strength to swing the hammer to wedge into the woman's skull- seeing her instantly fall limp, the girl letting her fall to the ground as she relaxed her legs.

“Help me.” The blonde wheezed, eyes beginning to roll back into her skull, face turning a sickly shade of blue. The bucket was long gone, lost in the struggle between her and Helah, causing her to swing haphazardly on the tensed rope. The world was beginning to dot in black, pupils tiny from the lack of oxygen. She didn’t even have to grab the woman, it was a choice she made in the moment- seeing the way she delighted in the suffering of a seemingly innocent girl. Maybe it was her conscious dictating her actions, or maybe, it was a nagging voice in the back of her head- telling her that if it was her, she’d like to think you do the same thing. How she could know that was beyond her, it didn’t make sense logically, but it was enough for her.

You nodded quickly, hissing as you grabbed your broken arm in an attempt to not strain it anymore. You eased yourself onto the ground, feeling around under Helah’s body for the knife she’d been planning to use on the girl. “I’m sorry.” You huffed, stifled breaths breaking your words as you finally found the blade. You got back to your feet, wasting no time in your sawing of the thick rope. It came apart with a harsh snapping noise, sending the girl onto the ground hard.

Yara bounded out of the darkness, your lost machete in hand as she looked at the two of you frantically. “Demons, we have to go!” She rushed, motioning to the path leading left, Lev following her lead as she pushed forward. Her eyes tried to avoid your limp arm, the discoloration seeping from your joint down to your fingertips, guilt overtaking her.

You nodded, urging them to go, as you looked at the girl. “Are you okay?” It was simple, something so seemingly meaningless, but enough to convey the appreciation you felt towards her. She was the only reason you weren’t dead, feeling absolutely sure that Helah would’ve ended you before your friends could save you.

She nodded, pulling the rope from around her neck before dipping down to jerk the hammer from the woman's skull. “Can you still run?” She asked, hearing the noises of infected closing in. The last thing she wanted was to let you die, seeing as she now felt just as indebted to you as you did her.

“Yeah, yes. I think.” You grunted, pulling your lifeless arm to your chest as you gave her a curt nod. “We have to go, come on.”

The blonde eyed you for a second before giving in, giving you a small nudge forward as she took off in the direction of what she assumed were your friends. She could hear your slowed footfalls behind her, making her cut her pace to let you pass her. If anything was to catch up, she could handle them- but in your state, you’d be too easily overtaken.

It didn’t take long for the two kids to come into view, their bodies moving nimbly through the trees as they seemed to have a rendezvous spot in mind. You didn’t even consider asking about their plan, focusing solely on just making it there- the mind-numbing pain being the only source of drive you had left. You stumbled, feet getting caught up on a root that blended into the dark earth, acting just fast enough to catch yourself on a nearby tree, your arm falling limply to your side.

“I can carry you if you need.”

You shook off her offer, panting lightly before pushing forward- not even able to grab at your arm anymore. Every breath rattled your body, sending indescribable jolts of pain reverberating through your nervous system, if you’d not known any better you’d have assumed this was what dying felt like- but you’d always been classified as the dramatic type, so you tried not to dwell on it. “I can make it.” You attested, not fully believing your own words, but pushing forward nonetheless.

The forest felt endless, from blindly following Yara’s lead to dodging infected spewing from unknown sources- it was like it was trapping you here. In a constant state of suspended terror, you dragged behind, feeling the burly girl's unrelenting aura looming over you with every step. She was different from the other wolves, you’d gathered in your short time with her, her attitude about your situation border lining empathy. It was something you’d never expect from her kind, having spent most of your life running from their old-world weapons.

“Here!” Lev called behind to you, seeing your figure slowly encroaching on the two of them, he wanted to run back to help but restrained himself- seeing the shadows morph into fungus-ridden figures trailing after the pair of you, he nocked his bow in preparation.

The girl ushered you forward, turning her back to you whilst you slid through behind Yara, allowing Lev to enter before she followed behind him- making sure no infected managed to come in behind the four of you. Her hair was sticking wildly to her face, eyes blown with adrenaline as she pushed herself through the hole. “Where from here?” She gasped, catching her breath as she peered around at the three of you standing at a fenced-in gap.

Yara was inspecting your arm silently, leaving Lev to speak on her behalf. “The fence, it’s new, we have to go through there.” He explained, his bow remaining tense in his hands as he watched the girl carefully.

She nodded, coming to kneel next to the fence. Her hands latched in the lattice holes, grunting slightly as she pulled the wire away from the pole. She managed to get it loose, holding it open for the three of you to pass.

“Go ahead.” You halted Yara, pushing her gently towards the exit, not giving her the option to object. Her eyes lingered on your arm before giving a hesitant step towards the hole in the fence, giving it a once over before getting down on her hands and knees to crawl through. “Lev, you next.” He bore no hesitation, following Yara’s motions.

You bent down next to the girl, ducking your head through the hole and using your feet to push yourself out to the other side, hearing her mutter a soft ‘watch your arm’ unconsciously. You heeded her words and pulled the limb to your chest, holding it firmly in place as you found your footing again, only to be grabbed by a force strong enough to rival that of what you imagined a god could. A choked scream passed through your lips, cut off by the neckline of your shirt coming to press uncomfortably around your throat- whoever had you was using the fabric of your shirt to dangle you just above the ground.

“Goddamn it, leave her alone!” Her gruff voice rang out, finally wriggling herself free from the fencing, coming to bring the hammer down on the person's knuckles. It was enough for them to release you, letting you fall to your feet, their attention now solely on the wolf. Something she didn’t mind, her abilities lying mainly in her uncanny strength, as you’d come to notice. She took in the massive woman, eyes zeroing on the straps of an oh-so-familiar bag that hung on her back- practically straining against her massive shoulders. It lit a fire in her, her fingers tensing over the handle of the hammer- tilting her head slightly. “Is that my fucking backpack?” She shouted, quickly dodging out of the way of her massive pick, and taking a few stunned steps back.

You stumbled away from the pair, whipping around just as Lev let an arrow fly- landing in the woman's shoulder- sharpened stone burying itself in the muscle, giving the wolf a moment to strike. It was like watching feral dogs fight, strike- yelp- strike. They both had the strength to overpower normal people, but when paired together it was one immovable force meeting another.

The girl locked her hand in the strap of the backpack, jerking the woman back just as she struck- hammer embedded in her skull. It was like destroying a sand castle, her body crumbling right before you in a mass of blood and muscle, it took one hit. “Fucking hell.” She hissed, kneeling down beside the woman’s body to strip her of the backpack that was rightfully hers- not hesitating to retrieve the hammer either. “We almost there?”

Yara nodded quickly, pointing towards a building marked with a large seraphite symbol. “I-it should be right through there,” She began, glancing around nervously, anticipating the arrival of more soldiers- or worse wolves. “We have to hurry, she might not make it much further.”

The words sent a pang of guilt into your stomach, causing you to shake your head. “I’m fine, I promise. I can make it.” You assured, glancing over to the bloodied girl, not letting your eyes linger for too long. You didn’t want to be seen as a burden, even now with a lame arm, you could still keep going- you had to. It wasn’t for lack of trying, that your convincing words fell through, no it was the sight of your now blood-red fingers peeking out from your shirt sleeve that caused the three of them to share a look of concern. “Let’s go, now, before they catch up.”

The wolf stayed close behind you, eyes trained on the crimson of your fingers as she racked her brain for a possible explanation. Her father being a doctor meant nothing in the long run, leaving her with a basic knowledge of injuries, not nearly enough to account for what had happened to you. “How’s the arm?” She hummed, not wanting to bother you too much in case her presence began to cause you to recoil from her, seeing how differently you two were.

“Bearable.” You managed, doing anything to not think about the numbness that had begun to creep into your arm. You knew it wasn’t a good sign, seeing as normally when you got injuries- even bad ones, they continued to hurt. This was a new sensation, one that sent a dread-filled ball into your stomach. “Thank you, by the way.” You added, your dull eyes coming up to meet hers as you pushed a bramble push to the side so you could pass.

She chuckled, the noise lightening the mood for a moment, shaking her head in disbelief. “Don’t mention it.” She spoke quietly, coming to a stop in front of the warehouse ledge, lifting herself effortlessly onto the platform before turning to you- offering her hand. “Can I ask a question?” It was something she hadn’t been able to shake, the idea of ‘wing clipping’ being something regularly used in scar life, she wanted to gain perspective- though after she asked, she realized how bad a time this might be.

You took her help gratefully, scaling the wall with minimal effort. Once your feet were back on solid ground you nodded at her, using your good arm to pull your lame one close to your body, trying not to hit it on anything. It had gotten easier to deal with the arm, though you’d begun feeling an uncomfortable chill creeping up your spine as the minutes dragged on. “Ask away.” You prompted, watching as she took hold of the latch- pulling the heavy metal off of the ground so the three of you could slide in under the door.

“Do the scars clip wings.. a lot?” She spoke once you’d all made it under, letting the heavy door fall closed with a ridiculously loud bang. Her hands came to her pants legs, wiping off the rust that had detached from the old metal, leaving red stains on the taut cargo.

The words made you shudder unconsciously, the flashes of burning hot pain plaguing your memory. For something so recent, you could’ve sworn this ache was ancient, rattling even the strongest pieces of your will. “Seraphites, and,” You paused, shaking off the unwelcome recollections. “It’s not the go-to method of punishment if that’s what you’re asking.” It was mainly true, wing clipping being reserved only for the apostates they had no will to kill. Their goal was to maim them enough that they wouldn’t consider disobeying again, and usually, it worked. “It’s reserved for the ones the council decides to spare.”

Her brows knitted together, “Spare?” From her viewpoint, this seemed worse than death, the bones surely crushed into powder by the sheer amount of times she man brought the hammer down onto the joint. The memory made her want to crawl out of her skin, hammer suddenly feeling much heavier, the screams being the worst thing she’d ever heard in her life. “This is what they consider sparing people?” She wanted to say more but stopped herself, not understanding why she cared so much about the goings of scars.

“I’m just glad to be alive.”

She nodded, finding that a good enough reason to drop the conversation there. “Grab any supplies you find, okay?”

Lev almost choked on his own spit, looking at Yara and then at you. “We can’t touch this stuff, it’s old world.” His words hung in the air between you as you gave him a half-shrug. His mouth snapped shut before he turned on his heel, using the tip of an arrow to move stuff on the tables around- your reply wasn’t what he wanted to hear, but he didn’t dare to fight against it.

You came to stand with Yara, her hands trembling as she thumbed through different stacks of old material. “You okay?” You hummed, swallowing thickly as her glossy eyes met your own, indicating she was nowhere near it. She was such a strong girl, pushing aside her emotions for the sake of others. She was so good at it, it had become her fatal flaw.

She nodded curtly, dropping her eyes back down to the sheets of fabric, stuffing them in her pocket haphazardly. “I’m sorry, sister.” She whispered, doing everything in her power to keep her voice steady. “I went back for your machete, I... I thought I’d be able to get to you in time.” She turned on her heel, coming to face you fully, tears brimming her dark eyes. “I was wrong.”

The sight made your stomach twist into knots, free arm coming to wrap around her shoulders gently- pulling her small frame into your chest. She’d been the sister you needed through childhood, becoming the closest thing to blood you had besides your mother. It crushed you to hear her blame herself for something that should've never had to happen, the blame falling on the group you’d once thought was home. “She sees your love, she doesn’t blame you. Neither do i.” You hummed, squeezing your eyes shut to avoid letting the brimming tears escape, ignoring the faint feeling that had crept into your head as you held her.

A cough drew you from the embrace, causing you to turn in response- the movement almost knocking you off of your feet. “We found a way forward, might even be a couple places to rest.” The wolf spoke, nodding towards a door Lev stood by, seeing it barely hanging onto its hinges as rain droplets slowly raced down the corrupted frame. “Are you feeling okay?” She spoke suddenly, not letting you fit a word in before stepping forward, the back of her hand coming in contact with your forehead.

You almost took a step backward, your heart jumping into your throat at the heat of her touch. It felt like she was on fire, her skin burning into yours as she spared Yara a nervous glance. “What’s wrong, why are you so hot?” You asked, tearing away from her touch with a slight tremble in your legs. You brought your own hand up, pressing it to your forehead in the same manner she had- pulling away quickly, finding your hand coated in sweat.

“You have a fever, we need to get you out of here, now.” She pushed forward, not letting you object as she scooped you into her arms- careful to not crush your arm further. This was something she knew wasn’t a good sign, meaning you’d contracted an infection or worse.

The sudden change left your head spinning, the body heat radiating off of the girl making you uncomfortably hot as you writhed in her arms, fighting in a sense. Not against her but against her unbearable heat, though in your eyes currently- they were one and the same. “You’re so hot, wolf, I can't breathe.” You knew she wasn’t doing this out of malice, quite the opposite actually, but sense evaded you in your current state.

She pushed through the doorway, eyes locking on a trailer on the far side of the yard- her feet picking up pace as she held you firmly in place. “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” She managed, on any other day she would’ve made some tasteless joke about her being hot, but she settled on this not being the time for it. She could feel your body shuddering, still trying to fight off her warmth as she practically broke down the trailer door- kicking it open so hard it left a door knob-sized hole in the panel wall.

Lev followed closely behind her, closing the door behind Yara to avoid drawing any more attention. “Is she gonna be okay?” He asked gingerly, putting his bow to rest on the dusty countertop. He knew the wolf didn’t seem like a healer, so she probably wouldn't know, but it was worth it to at least ask.

The girl gently let your body press into the moth-eaten couch, her arms sliding from beneath you with ease. “Can I?’ She asked, nodding to your arm, seeing the purple tint your fingers had taken on in the time it had taken the four of you to get out of the woods. A nod was all she needed, her hands coming to your arm.

One hand held your wrist, and the other pushed the linen of your tattered long-sleeved shirt up past your elbow. As the extent of your injury came to the light, nobody moved. The air felt stale, not even a ragged breath cutting through the anxious silence. You glanced down, the sight drawing a sharp gasp from your mouth, dark red pigmented your skin down to your fingers, which now took on a darker more purple hue. It looked like something a child would draw, devoid of all sense of tone, hung high in some disease-ridden home.

“I can set it, That might help.” The wolf spoke, eyes betraying her thoughts as she glanced up at you, trying to make it less scary. If maybe by some miracle this could work, she’d try just about anything. “Let me do that, okay?”

You didn’t even think to object, giving her a tiny nod. “Yara, the cloth.” You spoke, looking between her at the girl. “That would help, right?” You checked, having the most inept idea of healing from your time spent sneaking around the healer's hut for herbs.

Yara dug into her pockets, drawing out a handful of thick strips of cloth- immediately placing them into the hands of the girl. “I can go find more if we need more.” She rushed, watching closely as the girl turned them in her hands.

She nodded, “This is perfect, thank you.” She gave the younger girl a tight-lipped smile, kneeling beside the couch. She brought the chair leg to rest on her knee, popping the fabric on top of it, as she placed her hands at the wrist and just above the elbow. This was going to hurt, a lot, and the only way she could think to do it- was by distracting you. “What’s your name?”

“It’s-,” You began, only to be met with a harsh crack and a searing pain filling your arm. From your fingers to your shoulder, it felt like someone had sent you through initiation again, fire licking at your skin. “-My god!” You hissed in response, a choked sob escaping your trembling lips.

“I’m sorry, I know it hurts.” She shushed gently, letting your arm come to rest on the cushions as she picked the chair leg up- fitting it to your arm. “You’re gonna be okay-?” She drew out, waiting for you to finish your previous sentence

“(y/n), my n-name is (y/n).” You forced through the pain, breathing labored as you felt her secure the wood to your arm- straightening it permanently to let it heal. You had no idea if it would work, but you chose to trust her, not considering the fact that she might have just been lying for the sake of your comfort. “What’s yours?”

She smiled slightly, finishing up her work, letting her forearms come to rest on her knee. “Abby.” It was like some switch inside of her had flipped, all thoughts of her original reason for coming out here being lost in her subconscious, heart jumping with anxious beats at the idea of leaving the three of you here- but she had to go, much to her dismay.

“Abby.” You repeated sluggishly, getting a feel for it on your lips, earning a small chuckle from her. “Thank you, Abby.”

Abby stood, glancing between the two kids standing off to the side- looking visibly relieved. “I have to go, try not to make any noise. '' She warned, knowing the wolves had not cleared this area of infected yet. If they needed to be scared of anyone, it was the flesh-hungry infected that ran these woods. The ache to stay threatened her chest, forcing her to move faster. She pushed out of the door, halting on the wet steps as she turned on her heel- coming face to face with the boy she now knew as Lev.

“Listen, kid. Whatever shape she’s in, you need to be out of here by tomorrow.” Her words came out rushed, her hand digging into the door frame as she loomed over him, watching as his lips set into a thin line. She didn’t know what else to say, already conflicted enough, so she just took a step back. “Don’t let her die because you wanted to be a hero.”

╰╮later

The night passed in a blur of delusion-filled hallucinations, the pain creeping back into you when you least expected it. So when the light of morning poured through the tattered curtains, you thanked the prophet for the ability to even see another day- having thought many times you’d just die with the next flutter of your eyelids.

“Here, drink this.” Yara hummed, holding a small water bottle up beside your head- waiting for you to part your now chapped lips. Her hands shook slightly, letting the liquid drip out of the bottle slowly to avoid making you choke. She’d not slept, spending the night hovering over you just to be sure you were still breathing, making her even more cautious in her pouring.

You swallowed the water gratefully, feeling the ache in your throat dull slightly with the moisture. “Thank you, but really, try to rest before we have to leave.” You pleaded, eyes glossed over with the usual maternal worry you reserved for the siblings. “It’s gonna-,”

Your words were cut off by the door swinging open, Yara immediately reaching for Lev’s bow on the counter her hands moved faster than you could follow, nocking an arrow and letting it fly in just seconds before a familiar voice called out from behind the door. ‘It’s me!” They began, slowly coming around the corner, face flushed.

Yara let out a stressed breath, watching Lev rise from his sleep with a confused expression on his face. “On the prophet, have you heard of knocking?” She huffed, letting the bow fall back onto the counter as she crossed the room to collect Lev’s (definitely broken) arrow.

“Abby?” You spoke quietly, voice hoarse as you gazed up at her approaching form, her name still feeling foreign on your lips. “What are you doing here?”

The blonde shook her head shortly, kneeling down by the edge of the couch- leveling with you, letting her gaze rake over the sickly flush of your face. “You deserve a shot, (y/n).” She spoke, bringing a hand to rest on your uninjured one tenderly. “I’m here to give you one.”

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kaeyazuha · 2 years

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May I ask for Tighnari and romantic "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" Please allow yourself to rest, and don't force yourself to write if you don't wish to. -part-time poet

gn! reader x tighnari || cw: cursing, injuries || fluff

Withering zones were a pain in the ass, you mentally noted.

You were a researcher, curious about withering zones and the effects thereof. In order to research them, you had to get close. but archons, that was a mistake. You found yourself into easily one of the largest zones you've ever see; the uncomfortable heat making your head spin as your body was pelted with what felt like flaming balls of fire from the scarlet flowers. Now, you knew how to deal with these: a bow and arrow alongside the dendrograna and you're good to go. But of course, of course you couldn't find the damned dendrogranum and you found yourself in a dance with death itself.

It felt like hours of a 1v1 with Mother Nature, your skin bloodied and bruised all over, before you finally destroyed the tumor and laid down on the now green and plush grass. Usually, the warm sunlight and ticklish feeling of grass against your body would be welcomed, but now?

You just wanted to go home.

The walk back to Tighnari's lab was a long and treacherous one, but you braved it. And you continued to brave the pain with a grin as you greeted the fox-eared alchemist, finding comfort in his warm greeting to you. Though, he didn't turn around.

"How did the study go? Were you careful?" He spoke calmly, but not absentmindedly despite his focus being on his notes.

You weren't lying by saying you were careful, it's just...being careful didn't work out. "It went well, but I've yet to find what causes the rise in temperature. Maybe the ley line energy?" You shrugged off your shirt, keeping your undershirt on before you sat on the bench. Since he wasn't looking, you started treating your wounds- wincing at the feel of alcohol burning your cuts. His ears twitched when his head perked up, the smell of the liquid catching his attention.

Too focused on the bloody mess that was your arm, you didn't notice the way he harshly grabbed your hand and tugged upward to see the rest of your arm. "Why didn't you tell me you were hurt?" He sounded upset, far more upset than you thought he'd be. But, as you looked closer, you noticed the slight panic swirling in those multicolored eyes.

"I'm treating it just fine, there wasn't a reason to tell you?" You laughed nervously, trying to lighten the mood- but he wasn't having it.

"As your boyfriend, I'd think you'd want to tell me." He sighed, and grabbed the gauze and alcohol-drenched cotton ball from your hand before gingerly holding your forearm in his hand. "I'm taking over, don't touch anything." You smiled at how focused he became on your wounds, looking determined in his mannerisms.

"Do these injuries feel any different than usual?" You tilted your head, nodding in though. And with his right hand, he quickly noted something in his book before returning to wrapping your arm. "Describe the differences, if you're up for it."

You rolled your eyes playfully at his questions, musing at his curious eyes that wandered over your wounds. While he was your boyfriend, he was also a researcher.

He huffed, biting the end of the bandage to cut it before securing it in the wrap. "I'm coming with you next time, no arguments." You hummed in response, absentmindedly patting his head and relishing in the twitch of his fluffy ears.

"I wasn't planning to."

#kywrites #genshin tighnari #tighnari x reader #tighnari #tighnari x you #tighnari fluff #tighnari x y/n #tighnari imagines #tighnari hcs #tighnari headcanons #genshin fluff #genshin comfort #genshin x reader #genshin imagines #genshin hcs #genshin headcanons

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dotster001 · 9 months

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Hi Dot! I hope you're having a good day! <3 I'm so excited that your requests are open again. Your writing so so cute and sweet and being Ace myself I totally get the 'not getting it' feeling lol.

If you're up to it I'd love a protective or hurt comfort with Rook protecting/defending/taking care of the reader! <3 he's such a sweetie but also like...terrifying lol. I love him so much! If not that's okay and I hope you have fun with your other requests! <3

The Guardian of Love

A/N:I know you didn't specifically ask for an ace reader....but..... 😁 Also, the irony of me writing this whle a guy hit on me, asking me my body count 🤮 I hate it here 😂

CW: Asexual Reader, injury to NPC, toxic flirting, insult to reader

3k masterlist

"Ah, baby, c'mon!"

"I'm not your baby!" You growled, attempting to rip your arm out of his tight grasp.

This Diasomnia student had been aggressively courting you, if you could even call it courting, for far too long. No longer wanting to deal with him, and his tight grip, and his ability to not take no for an answer, you decided to drop the Ace bomb.

In hindsight, you should have known this would have the opposite effect. Because now, he seemed to think your resistance was nervousness.

"Look, you just haven't been with the right person yet, just trust me! We'll start out with a nice date-"

Unable to pull yourself away, you punched him in the gut. Unfortunately, the rage in his eyes kept you frozen in fear.

"Now listen here, you bastard," he growled, reaching out for you, until he fell to the ground, clutching his leg.

His leg that now had an arrow protruding from it.

You turned in shock, seeing Rook pointing his bow at the man, his ever present smile on his face.

"Bon jour!" He said as though he hadn't just shot someone.

"Rook! Get out of here, before-"you began, frightened that this act of protection would get him in trouble.

"Non, non, Mon petit fleur. You witnessed it, this was an act of defense!" He slung his bow over his back, hugging you tightly as though he was worried you'd disappear, "besides, I have enough riches to bail myself out."

He winked after that, despite it having no relieving effect on you.

"You can have them," the student on the ground spat, "they're broken."

You hadn't dropped the ace bomb on Rook yet. Perhaps because you were worried about the reaction that the Diasomnia student was giving you.

"My Trickster is not broken," he said calmly.

"Shows what you know! They can't properly love people becuase-"

You'd barely blinked, and Rook was holding an arrow under the student's chin.

"I know my Y/N better than you. I know what they are."

He looked at you with the softest of expressions.

"And they are beautiful. What a beautiful, unique, expression of love that I get to experience!"

For a moment you forgot about the boy with an arrow in his leg, tearing up at the loving expression in Rook's eyes.

Rook slung the student over his shoulders.

"And now we must get you to the hospital before I decide to kill you. Have a good night, my love," he pressed a kiss to your cheek, before walking away, whistling a cheery tune.

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #3k followers #rook x reader #rook hunt x reader #twst rook #rook hunt #asexual #rook hunt x ace! reader #asexual reader

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bedoballoons · 8 months

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OMG I WAS SO EXCITED WHEN I SAW MY REQUEST TY!!!

Ok so I have another one, This time it’s Shinobu kocho like reader x anemo characters (including my bb wanderer and albedo) and so basically shinobu is VERY short like 4’11 short, she uses poison to kill demons, she is always smiling Hashira has a cheery attitude even though she’s burning with rage on the inside, she is a doctor (technically) and her katana only the tip is blade because all she needs to do is stab her opponent to get poison injected into them, and she is also technically a alchemist. I’m sooo sorry if this is too much you don’t have to do all of it!!

fun fact: I only have one eye 👁

IM SO GLAD!! I love Albedo and the anemos so much oh my gosh!! Again this was a blast to write and I hope you enjoy!!

Also that's extremely cool! You totally don't have to answer but I'm just insanely curious...why do you only have one eye? 👀

─⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⁠⊹ฺ✿─

{༻~Shinobu Kocho like reader!~༺}

CW: Mentions of fighting, reader with rage on the inside and slight teasing for being short, overall just super fluffy! Xiaos is a whole oneshot because it was super intense to write!

(Includes: Albedo, Xiao, Kazuha, Heizou, Venti, and Wanderer!)

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

𑁍༄Albedo:

Albedo glanced in your direction and instantly became mesmerised by you, your hair clipped up in your butterfly clip to keep the strands out of your face while you worked away concocting the next deadliest poison. To anyone else you'd most likely look like just another alchemist at work, but in his eyes, you were the most beautiful when you were experimenting. Especially when you were so deep into your discovery like you were currently, your attention completely focused on your potions, making you completely unaware of just how much he was unable to take his eyes off you.

Eventually he looked away, his face slightly pink as he went back to his own studies, only now he couldn't concentrate, his eyes drifting to you ever so often.

𑁍༄Xiao:

You knew Xiao could take on almost any beasts the world threw at him, but that didn't mean he had to do it all alone, especially when he was incredibly out numbered and injured from a previous fight. "Xiao! Stay back, let me finish the battle for you!" You shouted jumping in front of him as more hilichurls crowded around you both, swinging weapons of fire and shooting arrows in every direction, one wrong move and it could all be over in seconds.

"I can handle myself, you should be the one staying back!" He swung his spear, the blades slashing through the air as he sent another beast flying, no matter what he'd make sure you left alive...even if he couldn't join you in the end. "Always so stubborn." You muttered, as you went to work, your movements quick and thought out, the top of your blade sinking into hilichurl after hilichurl, poison draining them of their life force before they could even defend themselves.

You and Xiao fought side by side while your opponents numbers steadily decreased, his injury slowing him down as the seconds ticked by and your own body loosing its momentum as exhaustion took its place. Just as the battle began to reach its end, the walls around you began to shake, their once sturdy foundation now crumbling from the heavy burden of filling in for a arena. "Xiao! The place is going to collapse!" You screamed for him, but you couldn't see where he was, your eyes searching for him frantically.

Then suddenly arms wrapped around you, the battleground fading away while he teleported you just outside of the building, using the last of his strength. "Are you, alright?" He asked falling to his knees, making your mind cloud with worry as you kneeled beside him. "I'm fine...are you?"

"I'll be okay. Don't worry."

𑁍༄Kazuha:

You looked at the butterflies surrounding you, their bright purple and blue hues standing out against the rising sun, while the wind flowed softly, carrying them to their next destination. "You remind me of them, the beauty of a butterfly and the gentleness they bring as they flutter by, but unlike them, you have burning rage on the inside and I don't think you truly know how to handle it." Kazuha sat next to you, his eyes never leaving you as he spoke what had been on his mind for some time now...the things that made him worry everytime you two weren't together.

Your cheeks felt warm, partially from his compliments, but also from the slight embarrassment of just how well he knew you and how right he was about your situation, you didn't know how to handle the anger and every day you got closer and closer to loosing any control you had. "I don't..know how to...to help myself." You whispered, you sounded so weak in that moment and you wondered if he'd look down on you for that, but of course he wouldn't.

He put his arm around you as you leaned your head on his shoulder, the cold morning air making you snuggle up to him as the two of you watched the sunrise. He'd do anything to help you, especially because you didn't know how to help yourself...

𑁍༄Heizou:

Heizou held your hand, his fingers intertwined with yours as the two of you walked along the soft shore, sharing a stick of fresh sweet dango and talking about the most recent mystery he'd been investigating, one that just so happened to involve you. "And you're sure you had nothing to do with the toxic flowers going missing? You could tell me you know, just because I'm a detective doesn't mean I'll arrest you right away." He attempted, his sweet smirk and charm almost enough to make you share your little secret, but you simply couldn't.

"Heizou, I have nothing to do with those flowers disappearing and even if I did, you know you don't have enough evidence to actually put me at the scene, the only way you'd have enough grounds to take me in, is if I confessed. And we both know I wouldn't do that..." You smiled sweetly at him, placing a kiss on his cheek as he chuckled in defeat. "One day I'll catch you for your crimes."

"How about you just catch me in general?"

𑁍༄Venti:

You danced around happily, your hair slipping out of its clip as your jacket flowed around you with every movement, your smile bright while you hummed the words to the song that was playing. It wasn't often you got to be like this, free to have fun and dance without a care in the world, and you owed it all to the musician himself, the one you held so dear to your heart after just a few outings with him.

You couldn't really explain it, but he had a sense of wonder that you couldn't get enough of and as the song came to a end you hurried up to him, wrapping your arms around him in a tight hug while he laughed happily. "Venti your performance was incredible! I loved it so much!!" You couldn't contain your excitement, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek as they turned a light shade of pink, "Awe thank you, honestly seeing you dancing brought me alot of inspiration, I wanted to match the joy you were giving off and sing the words with as much enthusiasm as your movements held."

Your face instantly went red, you'd inspired him...

𑁍༄Wanderer:

"...you can't reach it can you." Wanderer watched in amusement as you attempted to stand on a chair to get something out of the top cupboard, but to no avail, you just weren't tall enough. "Shhhh, how is it I could kill multiple enemies at once with only the tip of my blade, but my height is enough to stop me from reaching the sugar?" You sighed in defeat, slowly climbing down and putting the chair back in its rightful place at the table.

"You just have to find a poison that makes you taller." He chuckled teasingly as you shot him a playful glare, "Actually...I don't think I need to. Wanderer, oh please, please can you, my hero, get me the sugar....I will forever be indebted to you!" The amount of sarcasm in your voice made him roll his eyes and yet, you calling him your hero...still made him feel good, he kinda liked being someone's hero, even if it was for something silly like this.

"Alright alright, I'll get it shorty." He smirked at you the entire time, even though he had to use a chair as well and when he handed you the sugar, you could tell he was absolutely filled with pride. "Thank you my hero!"

♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡

ଘ(੭*ˊᵕˋ)੭* ੈ♡‧₊˚Have a nice day*⁠.⁠✧

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