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sentientcave · 11 days

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Retirement Party

Price has retired from Military life, and he's not handling the change well. But on the one year anniversary of him hanging it up, his boys bring him something special to help keep him busy. You.

Chapter Two - An Understanding

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Contains: No Y/N, Kidnapping, Forcible relocation, Generally creepy behaviour, Alcohol mention, Smoking mention (Tobacco), I guess this might count as human trafficking?, Dubcon everything because Reader is terrified (non-sexual), plus-sized reader, fem/afab reader, There is something fucking wrong with these guys for real, More reader details given, but we're still pretty vague about it. Even though it is hard for me. No promises for future chapters though.

~3.8k - MDNI - Dark fic! Please mind the content warning above

The captain looks at you for a long moment, dark blue eyes wide with surprise as he takes you in. You have to admit that he’s handsome, dark brown hair and well-groomed facial hair (muttonchops, no less) flecked with silver, and a nice nose that skews to the large side. It gives him a friendly, approachable demeanour, despite the weight of his stare. His heavy attention shifts from you to the other three, and his expression turns serious. “Lads,” he says, his voice a rumble that you can feel through your own body. “Please tell me this isn’t what it looks like.”

“Weeeel. It might be,” Johnny says apprehensively. “But I did my research, sir. She’ll be perfect for ye, ye’ll see.”

“She’s a good girl,” Ghost adds. “Sweet as can be. Won’t be any trouble for you.”

“Already moved her in and everything.” Gaz gestures around the room, looking rather too proud of their work.

The captain nods slowly, taking in the new additions to the space. “So you did. And did this pretty little thing agree to having her life upended, or did you lads just decide for her?” His arms shift around you, and you feel almost protected, oddly enough, even though by the size of him, he’s just as dangerous as the others. Probably even more dangerous, the way they defer to him, standing in a line like cadets, eager for his approval.

“Not… Not exactly,” Gaz admits. “I mean, we didn’t ask. But this’ll be better for her. She was living in a real rat hole before. Tiny little apartment in a shite neighbourhood. Was only a matter of time before something bad happened. We’re just looking out for her.”

Johnny shuffles his feet. “Dealt with a few neds while I was doin’ reconnaissance, even. Poor lass coulda been in real trouble if I hadna been there. Bawbag employers would ask her to stay past the last bus to watch the bairns an’ no’ even offer her a ride or ta pay fer a cab.”

“It wasn’t that far a walk,” you protest, glaring at Johnny. As if it’s any of his business. “And they did offer to drive me, I just wasn’t— It doesn’t matter! You had no right—”

The captain shushes you, and your words wither on your tongue, your cheeks turning hot under his stern blue gaze. He cups your jaw and turns your head to face him again, the rough pad of his thumb stroking your cheek gently. “Sweetheart, you and I will talk in a moment. Soap’s right about that not bein’ safe, and you know it.”

Your stomach flutters nervously. He gives you a little smile, and his crow’s feet deepen, the lines fanning out further. There’s a moment where you’re tempted to smile back, but his legs shift under you, and you wince sympathetically instead. “Sorry, I should get off of you,” you say quickly. “I’m heavy.”

“I won’t stop you if you’d like to sit somewhere else,” he says, that cheeky smile deepening more. "But you’re not heavy, and I'd like it if you stayed put."

"Told ye he'd like her," Johnny whispers, loud enough that it shatters the isolated pocket of reality that, for a moment, housed only you and the captain. "Hasna even introduced himself an' he's flirtin' like mad."

"Soap!" Gaz hisses back. "Shut up."

Ghost scruffs them both. "Let's finish getting dinner on. Give 'em a minute to talk."

Johnny grins at you and gives you two thumbs up as he circles around to the kitchen, as if you’d actually been a willing participant in all of this.

"I'm John, by the way," the captain says, calling your attention back to him. He drops his hand and settles it on your knee, his fingers curling around the joint. "You alright, doll?"

A loaded question. "Well. Not really."

"You're keepin' it together real nicely, all considered. Wouldn't blame you if you were hissin' and scratching."

"I'm not much of a fighter," you admit. "And even if I was, I don't think it would do me much good."

John chuckles, squeezing your knee lightly. He's gentle, but there's power in those hands, the kind that comes from years of hard work. There's scars all over it, from his the tips of his calloused fingers up to the leather band of his watch, etched in evidence of violence. If there are scars further up his arms, their hidden by the buffalo plaid flannel. "No, it probably wouldn't."

"Are you going to let me go home?" you ask.

He sighs. "The thing is, doll, the boys have put me in an awkward spot here. If I let you go on home, you're going to get them in trouble, and I don't want to see that happen."

"I promise, I won't say anything, I just--"

He shushes you again, and you shut your mouth, biting your lip. "Let me finish, sweetheart. You're being so good right now because you're scared. But that's not gonna last, is it? And worse, it sounds like you don't really have much to go back to."

"I'll find a new job. I always do."

"With another family who doesn't appreciate the work you put in? That doesn't make you feel safe?" His fingertips toy with the edge of your skirt absently, but his eyes are on your face, studying your reaction with rapt attention. This is how a rabbit must feel, pinned under the stare of a grizzly bear, frozen in place and hoping that no claws come down on top of it. "I can read between the lines, doll. That man you were workin' for made you feel so uncomfortable that you'd rather walk through a bad neighbourhood at night than get into a car with him alone."

You can't dispute it, although you're surprised he can glean so much information from half an outburst. "It wasn't like that-- He wasn't that bad."

John hums. "You're tellin' me you've had worse?"

A dozen jobs with a dozen managers or coworkers that took your silence as permission to stand too close, or put their hands on you flash across your mind. Mr. Kinsey was just the latest of many. You know that the thought is displayed on your face, from the way his eyebrows pinch together just slightly, not angrily, but concerned. You try to deflect with a little laugh. "Oh, well. I suppose I have. But hasn't everyone?"

"Soap had a bad lieutenant once and locked the man in his own car when he was just a private. Just because you have a bad boss doesn't mean you have to take it." He looks at you so seriously as he speaks, his fingers dancing distracting circles against the top of your knee, rough fingertips catching on the nylons just slightly. The heat from the arm curled around your waist bleeds through the fabric of your dress, his hand twitching slightly, like all he wants to do is take a handful of soft flesh. “You should speak up when you’re not comfortable, doll. You just need some practice standin’ up for yourself, don’t you?”

If a statement could have teeth, this one would, and you’re not sure if agreeing or disagreeing will have him closing his jaws around you. He’s probably right, you do need to do a better job of standing up for yourself. But you’re certain that he doesn’t want you to start by standing up to him, or his three attack dogs either. “I’ll work on it,” you say meekly. You test his commitment to the statement by gently picking his hand off of your knee, although there’s nowhere to really put it either.

“We’ll work on it,” he agrees, lacing your fingers together. When he rests your now-entwined hands, it’s a little further up your thigh. “You want a drink, darlin’?”

“Oh, um, no thank you.” You wouldn’t mind another tea, but you don’t think that’s what you’re being offered.

The scrutiny he puts you under is intense, like he’s determined to figure out what every microscopic shift in your expression might mean. “You sure, doll? You gotta ask if you want somethin’, or you won’t get it.”

“I would like a tea. But I can make it, I don’t want to be trouble.”

“Nonsense. Lads?” he tips his head back slightly.

“On it, sir,” Gaz replies cheerfully.

Ghost leans over the back of the couch to hand John a tumbler. Whiskey or scotch, by the sharp smell that hits you. John pulls his hand away from yours to accept the glass. “Thank you, Simon,” he says pleasantly. "Good lad."

“S’your party, sir. An’ you’re busy, ain’t you?” Ghost rests his hands on the back of the couch and studies the pair of you, dark eyes gleaming with pride. The man has the demeanour of a cat that’s brought in a helpless little bunny to his master, while it’s still alive and struggling.

“Gettin’ to know our pretty guest.” John smiles at you over the rim of his glass as he takes a sip. “She’s a sweet girl.”

“Isn’t she just?”

“Could I, um, sit over there?” you ask, glancing at the chair. Somehow John had managed to distract you from the idea of moving for a while, but you were still eager to get a little space from him, especially with Ghost looming over both of you.

“Of course, sweetheart,” John’s arm loosens, and you quickly get up and move to the chair.

You almost feel cold, without the heat that radiates off of his body. His attention feels weightier now too, or maybe it’s just that his body isn’t shielding the stares from Johnny, Gaz and Ghost, and you’re subjected to all four of them watching you, like you’re either fascinating or delicious (or both). You cross your arms over your chest and shrink into yourself as much as possible, eyes wide.

"Here's yer tea, hen. And may I just say, ye've go' a fantastic rack from this angle." Johnny hands you the mug and sits on the arm of the chair, leaning over you. "Weel. Ye've go' a nice rack from any angle. Nice arse too. Captain's lucky I like him so much, or I'd've gone for you myself."

You breathe in steam, wrinkling your nose slightly. It doesn't smell quite right. "Did you put something in this?"

"Aye. Finger of whiskey. Ye look all stiff and peaky still. Need a pick me up, don't ya?"

You look at him reproachfully. He sighs and plucks the tea from your hands and takes a big sip. "There's nothin' else in there, if that's what yer askin', ye suspicious wee daftie. A little whiskey ne'er hurt no one." He hands the mug back to you, smile crooked, doing his best to be charming, but he's too intense, too fervent, to be anything but unsettling.

“Got Johnny checkin’ everythin’ for poison, do you?” Ghost asks, chuckling. “Can’t say I blame you.” He nudges John with the back of his hand. “She’s smart, worth keepin’ an eye on that. Know’s ‘ow to ‘old ‘er tongue, but she’s listenin’ and payin’ attention.”

“Of course she is! Wouldna choose a lass withoot a brain in her head. Wouldna be worth the captain’s time. Weel, maybe worth a wee bit of time.” He winks down at you. “But no’ wife material, ye ken. Chose her because she’s delightful, no’ just ‘cause she’s bonnie.”

The few times you’d spoken to Johnny before you’d thought that he was so nice. Laughing and joking with you in the pick up line while you waited for the children you were respectively responsible, greeting his niece and nephew with big smiles. And Finn and Rory were always so excited to see him, you’d chalked him up as harmless. Clearly you hadn’t been paying enough attention then, too focused on the Kinsey kids and your job, maybe. You hadn’t noticed that he was appraising you like a piece of livestock, judging your value like you’d been put up to auction.

The whisky-fortified tea is a bit on the strong side, but you take a few sips anyway. Getting drunk would be unwise, but you’re so tense that your whole body is starting to ache, and that’s not doing you any good either.

“Dinner’s ready,” Gaz announces, untying his kiss the cook apron and setting it on the counter. “Hope you’re hungry. Soap made a cake earlier too.”

John raises an eyebrow. “You can bake?” he asks, surprised.

“Aye, picked it up while I was gettin’ rehabbed for the big fuck-off hole in my head,” he replies airily. “Was goin’ mental putterin’ around Kirsty’s waitin’ for the bairns to get out of school, so Ah picked it up. Isnae so hard. Just chemistry, aye?”

“He did make a big mess,” Gaz says. “Had to wash about fifty dishes before I could get started on dinner.”

“Everyone’s a fuckin’ critic,” Johnny complains. “See if I bake ye a cake for yer birthday, Garrick. Ye’ll be sorry then.”

“Oh no, how will I survive?” Gaz clutches his chest like he’s deeply wounded by the statement, laughing. “I have two mums, I’m still pretty much guaranteed a cake.”

“Always braggin’ abou’ that. Thinks he’s more evolved than the rest of us just because his da’s a woman.” He hovers next to you as you get up, and sticks close as you walk over to the table. You don’t choose a seat, in case there’s an order to things you’re not aware of.

“Pretty sure the whole point is that he dun’t ‘ave a dad,” Ghost says. “Now sit down, mutt. Yer not sittin’ next to the bird. You’re botherin’ ‘er.” He points at a chair, and Johnny sighs and slinks into it.

“Here, sweetheart,” John says, putting his big hand on your back to guide you the last few steps and directing you to a seat. He slides the chair in for you too, masquerading as a gentleman, and sits next to you.

Gaz settles in on your other side, all smiles. “Feeling better?”

They keep asking you how you are, as if the answer is going to change. Like all you need to adjust to the reality of being kidnapped and relocated to some stranger’s house in the country is a little time. Like you’re going to be just fine, if you just get a few more minutes to adjust. “Not really.”

"Ah, don't worry, doll. Captain's gonna be real good to you. You'll get there soon enough. Probably'll feel better once you've had a proper meal."

At least they don't try to make you talk much at the table. They fall into easy conversation between them, and let you eat roasted chicken and potatoes and carrots with some kind of sweet and mildly spicy glaze. Ghost pulls the mask down to eat, so you're able to watch when he goes slightly pink from what barely qualifies as spice. Gaz gives you a little side-long glance, and you almost laugh. There's some solidarity to be had, even in a situation like this one, something funny about how a little more spice could probably straight up kill the other three men at the table. Maybe that would be the key to you freedom: Murdering John by feeding him something full of chilies.

Admittedly, you do feel begrudgingly more charitable towards them after eating. You could maybe blame it on the tea too, which, against your better judgment, you do end up finishing.

John stops you from helping clean up when you stand automatically and try to stack Gaz's empty plate with your own. "No, sweetheart. C’mere." He guides you to the door and out into the chilly evening air. You wish that Ghost had let you put on a sweater over your summery dress, but he had been so keen to show you off, and you’d been too scared to insist. You curl your arms around yourself for warmth, and keep quiet, watching as John trims and lights a cigar, looking out into the darkness beyond the porch.

Fear has morphed from pressing terror to something that gnaws at you from the pit of your stomach. You could try to run for it, but you’d probably roll your ankle wearing the stupid red heels, and you have no real idea where you are, or how far you are from someone who could help you. Outrunning John would be a feat anyway. He’s older than you, but he’s in better shape, nearly perfect shape, broad and strong, that long military career not yet forgotten.

There’s a bench by the door, so you sit down to take the heels off. You’re not used to wearing them, it’s so rare that you have anywhere to go that calls for spicier footwear than your comfortable, worn in trainers.

“Here.” John slides his flannel shirt off and drapes it over your shoulders, and kneels down in front of you, cigar clamped in his mouth, pulling your heels off for you. Smoke curls around you for a moment, thin and blue in the scant light, before a breeze carries it away. He leans on his one leg and studies you, but he doesn’t stand. “You’re beautiful, you know that?”

You put your arms through the sleeves of the flannel, humming noncommittally. You know you’re pretty enough, by most standards, but you feel like his interest— And the interest of the other three— is disproportionate, too intense.

“I’d like you to stay a while, doll,” he continues. “I won’t force you, I’m not that kind of man, but I’d have a hard time letting you go back to living paycheck to paycheck in a bad nieghbourhood, workin’ for creeps that don’t know how to keep their hands to themselves. You deserve better than that.” It’s as though he doesn’t even hear his own words though, or imagines himself better, because he absently runs his hands over your calf, squeezing the tense muscle gently.

“I have to work,” you protest, biting back a moan. You didn’t need to encourage him, even if you weren’t quite brave enough (or willing) to stop him. “I have student loans, and I send money to my lola in Vigan. I can’t afford to just disappear off the face of the earth.”

He nods thoughtfully. “How much?”

"Three hundred pounds a month to Lola. I know it might not seem like a lot, but it goes a lot further there."

"And the student loans?"

"Sixteen thousand. Not that much, I worked through my degree, and I inherited a bit of money from my parents. But I still have to--"

"I'll pay for both. You'll stay until you find a good job, and a safer apartment." He says it like it's a final edict, no room for argument.

You pull your leg out of his grip, tucking both further back under the bench. "No, John, I don't want to owe you either--"

"You won't. My boys kidnapped you and disrupted your whole life. I'd pay a lot more if it keeps you from going to the police over it. Least I can do is make sure you're better off when you do leave here, hm?"

You bite your lip. Starting over with a clean slate is tempting, but you're not sure you can trust John. He seems so earnest, blue eyes clear and guileless, but he can't be much better than the other three. Unless he was just holding their leashes tight as their captain, and had to let them loose when he retired.

"Can I think about it?" you ask.

"Of course." He puts his hand on your knee to steady himself as he leans across to ash the cigar in the ashtray that sits on a little table next to the bench. "But I think you'll say yes. You're a smart girl, hm?"

You're tempted to say no, just to test weather or not he's being honest about not forcing you to stay, but there's a niggling worry in the back of your mind that the veneer of civility will evaporate if you push him on it. He's nice enough now. And maybe that niceness isn't a show, maybe he has no darker side, maybe it's all just paranoia on your part. Perhaps the worst thing about him is his predilection to protect his "boys", even though all three are clearly insane.

Military is like that, isn’t it? The whole brotherhood thing? Maybe fighting for your life beside someone changes how you see them forever.

“How long did you all serve together?” you ask. “Johnny mentioned that he was SAS before— I asked about the scar once.” You tap the side of your head, the same spot where Johnny has a nasty bullet scar.

“Long time. Hand-picked Gaz and Soap for my taskforce about ten years back. Simon and I served together longer. He’s a captain now, even if the lads still call him LT. They’re both lieutenants, and Gaz’ll be a captain himself before long. Probably would’ve been already if he’d transferred out of the 141.” He gets up with a grunt and settles onto the bench beside you. “Don’t think Simon’s long for it. He’s only still in because he wants to keep an eye on Soap. Man’s a bloody romantic. Live together or die together.”

“I didn’t realize that they were together at all.”

“The way Soap’s been droolin’ all over you, I’m not surprised.” He puffs on his cigar thoughtfully. “But Simon’s just like that, as far as I can tell. The world’s divided into three categories. Enemies, his people, and everyone else. Enemies ‘n’ everyone else can’t touch what’s his, but he’s never given a damn about Soap sleepin’ with Gaz, or me.”

“I’m not his people.”

John looks at you and shakes his head. “Course you are, doll. You’re one of our people now. They might’ve gotten a bit overzealous, bringing you here the way they did, but those lads would do anything you asked of ‘em now.”

A bit overzealous. You laugh, but the sound comes out bitter.

"Relax, doll. I know you're determined to hate them, but they're good lads. Their hearts are in the right place." He pets a big hand over your head and rests it on the back of your neck, warmth seeping into your bones, relieving some of the ache from all the tension of the day. John has a way of soothing that terrified little animal in your chest that would otherwise threaten to kick it’s way free from your ribs and flee into the dark trees. “Lookin’ out for me, in their own way. Lookin’ out for you too. If your situation was a better one, they wouldn’t’ve plucked you out of it like that.”

There’s hope in his eyes when you look up at him, hope that you’ll forgive and forget, that you’ll come around to some kind of understanding in time. His thumb brushes a sensitive spot behind your ear, sending an awful, irrefutable thrill through you.

You’re worried that he might be right.

My favourite John Price to write is the sneakiest, most charming, manipulative bastard on the planet. I definitely take a lot of inspiration from 391780 's portrayal of him. The Rear Window and Neighborly have been forefront in my mind while working on this (Largely because I think my John would have taken a similar approach if the lads hadn't jumped the gun. The Rear Window is dark, so be warned! Early writes delicious dark fics, but that may not be everyone's cup of tea, so mind the tags.)

Image Credits: Banner

Dividers: 1 - 2 - 3 by @/Cafekitsune

#Retirement Party #Chapter 2 baybeee #Doll is coming to terms with the weirdest situation she's ever been in #cod mw fanfiction #John Price x Reader #x reader #Some hints of Poly 141 (I think it'll crop up properly later on)#Gaz wearing his kiss the cook apron wondering why Doll's not kissing him ): (It's because you kidnapped her)#Johnny never change baby boy you're a dog and we love that about you

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linkcities · 16 days

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in a year or two (i'll take care of you) | gojo satoru/reader

“Do you have a favorite flower?”

You ask him this moments before the two of you begin your journey home, dragging along your worn out suitcases and the individual white plastic bags filled with dirty laundry. You ask him this and you’d come to realize later on in your life that it’s a question he found himself thinking of whenever he hears your name.

He places his head against yours gently. “I do.” He whispers, “sweet peas, if you know them.”

You hum. “What do they mean?”

Geto Suguru and his jet black irises gleam under the light of the vernal sun, his hair dancing along to the music of the leaves from before. Through the corner of your eyes, you caught a glimpse of the way he smiled at you so softly that day—it’s one you’ll grow to never forget, regardless of how many years pass you by.

“I’m a bit unsure, but,” he tells you, his index finger tapping the tip of your nose. “It’s ‘thank you for the time we spent.’”

or,

Snippets of your grief after Geto Suguru's betrayal, spread throughout the course of thirteen years; alongside the only person who could understand even just a crumb of your pain.

—

pairing | gojo satoru/reader

note | this is a preview of the current 'fic i'm working on. not sure when i'll be posting it, but the projected word count for this piece is around 17,000 words, subject to change. enjoy! :]

—

The day after that, Shoko went on to pretend as if nothing happened. She continued her routine. Medical check-ins, training, mission updates. The day after that, from Satoru, you heard that she blew through an entire pack of cigarettes in under six hours. You think this must be her way of repenting. Irrational penance for something she knew she wasn’t accountable for.

In the present, Satoru hops up to sit on the metal bar posing as the only hurdle between you and the running stream. His hands are in his pockets now, your bag discarded safely next to the railing. Carefully, just as he averts his stare elsewhere in the distance, he brings out an old and tapered pack of cigarettes.

You watch him intently.

“Stop staring at my hands.” He grumbles underneath his breath, loud enough for you to get rightfully annoyed by. “I don’t want to hear whatever you have to say.”

Your heart drops to your stomach after that. You say nothing in response.

Satoru tugs out his lighter from his other pocket cautiously, as though he was testing out your reaction first, and when he realizes that no protest would be sprinting towards his direction, he takes a stick from the box and he brings it close to his lips. You watch everything through the corner of your eyes.

The lighter clicks, and then you wince. Smoke flows out through his mouth in seconds, three coughs following suit. He tests it out repeatedly, a few more times, more and more times; waits for his body to get used to the smoke.

Halfway through his first stick, he coughs violently after a long puff. You wince again. “I’ll leave if you don’t put that out.” You mutter, displeased, waving away the cloud of gray enveloping your surrounding area. He doesn’t budge.

Deep breath. You know better than to try and tell him what to do. I know better than this. There was no rational conversation to be had when it came to Satoru. They were only ever frustrating and indignant and brutal and upsetting. “It’s bad enough that Shoko’s smoking more and more each day.” You try to bite your tongue, but the metallic taste of your own blood only makes you want to keep speaking, “why are you doing this to yourself, now, too?”

Ash falls from the burning end of the cigarette. He hangs the stick loosely between his index and middle finger, turning around to rest his elbows against the silver railing. Satoru does not offer you anything but an unconcerned shrug.

More and more ash falls atop the grass beneath your soles. When he coughs for the last time, you push yourself off the barricade and turn to the direction of the subway station.

“This isn’t mine.”

You pause. Satoru exhales deeply behind you.

“Shoko and I cleaned out Suguru’s old room three days ago,” he tells you, quietly, overdosing on the wave of uncomfortable air. “We were supposed to clean it with you, but your mission was extended and Yaga said we can’t keep putting it off.”

At this, you clench your fists. You take it upon yourself to look back at Satoru, who was now standing straight—overlooking the flowing river, watching the currents pass by and turn orange. You dissolve into a puddle of many, many regrets. You circle in on the lingering emptiness that has been tormenting you for weeks, and the conclusion strikes you like lightning again, almost as though you were realizing it for the first time: We had all lost something so terribly important when Suguru left. It all happened so quickly, you think to yourself. Suguru left quickly, too. Just three weeks ago. The wound was recent and fresh and the higher-ups didn’t even give you enough time to let it scab first before ordering you to search through Suguru’s things. It leaves a bitter taste in your mouth.

This isn’t mine.

That’s what Satoru said. So it must be Suguru’s. It couldn’t be Shoko’s; she never liked to share. You and Satoru never smoked as often as they did. No, incorrect, the two of you never smoked at all. You walk closer back to the railing, laying your left hand on top of the bar.

“Did you find anything?” You ask him. “Anything worth keeping?”

You see him struggle with looking for an answer for your question. Satoru was never subtle with what he was feeling. “I took some of his clothes,” he starts, “I kept a bunch of his shoes, too. We’re the same size. Shoko took his lighters and books.”

There’s a lump in your throat filled with words you know you’re not allowed to speak into existence. You want to tell him, though. Put it back in his room. I can’t handle seeing someone other than Suguru wear his clothes. You argue with yourself, inwardly. You asked him the question, yes, but truthfully you were hoping he’d answer no. No, I didn’t find anything. It’s equally as devastating, but at least that way you’d carry no reminder of his leaving.

(But is that what you really want? To forget? To erase all traces of Geto Suguru from your brain?)

It’s a horrible thought to have. It’s a horrible thought to have. Satoru and Shoko were more than welcome to grieve the way they wanted to grieve, and the lord knows you weren’t significant enough to the universe to ever be given the right to police them.

A single cough. He disrupts your thoughts, loudly stomping over them, almost as if he knew what was running through your head. You know he does. “I don’t know why I decided to keep them.” Satoru directs his stare down to the ground, his hair nestled in front of his eyebrows. “They’re in boxes on top of my closet. If you want some of them, just let me know.”

Your mind goes numb. You don’t know how to respond to that. Satoru’s saying all the right things right now and you’re unsure of how to handle his being rational—it’s not like he hasn’t been this way in the past, it’s just that usually Suguru was the one who was often rational enough for the both of them. Your mind goes numb. You hear nothing but an incessant ringing. Ultimately, you understand what Suguru’s abandonment entails; you know that his leaving necessitates numerous adjustments and relearning of previous lifestyles. If Yaga were here, he’d say something along the lines of Good. If it took him leaving to get Gojo to straighten up, then good. You could honestly hear his voice saying that. But you know he never would. He’s high strung, but he’s not heartless. You’re projecting something.

You’re projecting something because everything feels either wrong or excessive. Satoru is being rational and quiet and Shoko is avoidant and even more jaded than before. You don’t know what you’re supposed to be; and yet Satoru stares at you, finally, for the first time in a while, with wide blue eyes and chapped and parted lips, staring so expectantly almost as though he’s tethered to your reactions. The sheer weight of his eyes alone is too heavy for you to carry.

“I don’t.” You say, finally. After several agonizing minutes of only trickling silence. “Keep them, it’s fine. I wouldn’t have a place for them in my room, anyway.”

In the blink of an eye, the weight dissipates when his pupils slant themselves back towards the gushing river. The tension is thick, and so is his nearly tangible disappointment, but you convince yourself it’s out of your control. Gojo Satoru is a god among mortals and if his sorrow cleaves the world in half, the burden of stitching it all back together shouldn’t fall on one as miniscule as you.

“Alright.”

He throws the worn out pack of cigarettes to the steep downhill curb near the river, and then he turns around to walk to the direction of the subway station. His footsteps echo loudly in your head. It disrupts the incessant ringing from before.

An exhale escapes your throat. None of the air you’re trying to keep inside is staying inside. You lean against the barricade. We had all lost something so terribly important when Suguru left.

When the silhouette of the young god’s retreating form no longer appears in your peripheral vision, you descend down to the river and you pick up the pack of cigarettes before the wind blows it towards the water. The sun sets in the horizon, and you feel an ache inside your chest, a thrumming in your head; the ghost of a migraine looms over you, and yet you think it couldn’t possibly feel any worse than this.

#jjk #jujutsu kaisen #jjk one-shot #gojo satoru #gojo #gojo satoru x reader #gojo x reader #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #one-shot preview #✧ | juno writes!#pls count on this fic to slay as hard as wormwood because it WILL #im not finished with it yet but best believe i Will be powering through soon enough

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manjibunny · 4 months

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Pretty When You Cry

Synopsis: Everything seemed to go so well for you and your best friend, Chifuyu, until you discovered your feelings for him...

C/W: Angst, no comfort, friendship breakup, mentions of gang fights and wounds, mentions of death (no one dies tho), imagery from Greek mythology if you squint, messy as hell, reader is emotionally unavailable and doesn't know how to deal with their feelings, Chifuyu deserves better :/ W/C: 4k + words A/N: Welp, off to a good start in the new year. As previously mentioned in a post, this fic took me a good while to finish. This fic is basically me reflecting on a situation that occured many, many years ago. I was so foolish to destroy something great in favor of keeping my heart safe, but today I'm old enough to know that love is a complicated thing, even if it's just platonic. Tagging luvs @avatarofstars @kokonoiscoconut @nanamikentoseyebags (look, this is the fic I rambled to you months ago!)

Glossary:

Moira = Also known as the fates; Greek goddesses of fate

Atropos = Greek for “unalterable”/ “inflexible”: one of the three Moira; the goddess that cuts the thread (symbolizes life), making her the one that decides ones inevitable fate

Love is a wolf in sheep’s clothing. Stalking its prey and disguising itself as an innocent feeling of adoration, it lulls you into a false sense of security. It’s a soft voice in your head that gently whispers to you, advising, begging, demanding you to lower the walls you’ve built around your heart.

“It’s ok” It’ll whisper to you in an encouraging voice “It’s ok to lower your guard. It’s ok to feel vulnerable. It’s only human that you want to love and be loved”

You were 15 years old when you caved, and you caved for none other than Chifuyu Matsuno.

You wouldn’t have looked twice his way if the circumstances were different.To you he was a troublemaker, someone you’d forget about after graduating highschool. But just like in a classical Greek drama, the Moira already sealed your fate, dooming you to fall right into Chifuyus warm embrace. At the darkest time of your life, he was the sole candle that illuminated the night of your melancholy. His light helped you navigate and keep the demons of the night away. In a way, Chifuyu was your personal safe haven.

Befriending Chifuyu felt like finally putting the last piece into the puzzle. But no matter how strong a bond is, if the Gods demand the ties to be severed, so it be…

Your lungs burned from the lack of oxygen. Not being used to running this much, your legs began hurting as you stormed through the familiar streets. You ignored the voice calling not too far behind you, begging you to stop, to return to him, to talk to him goddamnit. You ignored the pain that shoots through your legs with every step you take and his desperate cries. Your heart thudded against your ribcage as you finally arrived at your destination: Your home, your fortress. You shakily searched for the keys of your home, taking them out of your pocket. Thank God, you found your keys just in time. You swiftly opened the door and entered, not looking back as you slammed the door a bit too loudly behind you. Once you entered your home, you slumped down right before the door, not even bothering to turn on the lights. With trembling hands you brought your knees closer to yourself. Engulfed in the darkness of your home, you were left alone with the memories of Chifuyu Matsuno, the man that the fates have tied you to.

Memories of golden days rushed through your brain. Memories of sitting next to Chifuyu in a cute cafe near your university. You and him have been friends for a while now, not imagining what life would be without the other.

“Look what I’ve found at the bookstore” Chifuyu mused excitedly, “It’s a manga I used to read back in highschool!”

You playfully rolled your eyes at your best friend “Wow, and here I thought you would start reading real literature” You giggled before taking a sip of your coffee.

“This is real literature! Ai Yazawa knows how to write compelling, and most importantly, real characters. Take this manga for instance-” He scooted closer to you, taking the manga out of his backpack before opening it. Being so close to him, smelling his fresh cologne that he recently started to use, and seeing the excited glint in his eyes as he got ready to rave about the manga, made you feel at ease. Without knowing it, Chifuyu would always calm your nerves.

You took a look at the opened manga on the table. Inside you saw beautifully drawn panels. As you took a closer look, you noted that the characters have been drawn very detailed. You especially took note of the extravagant jewelry.

“This manga -” Chifuyu pointed at a panel of two women sitting on what appeared to be a dining table.

“- covers so many serious topics. It covers romance, breakups, loss, grief, loneliness, and much much more!” he sighs “Listen, I know you might think this is silly, but I really want to reread this manga series with you because I feel like you could relate with the characters.”

Humming, you gently took the manga from Chifuyus light grip, your hand lightly brushing against his. You inspected the manga closer, flipping through the pages and skimming through the speech bubbles sporadically before closing it. Upon closing the manga, you teasingly side-eyed your best friend.

“‘Nana’? Really?” You chuckled as you handed the manga back to him.

“I heard of this manga. Man, I wouldn’t have thought that you’d be into that” sighing, you continued your teasing remarks. “Who would have thought?Just when I thought I knew everything about you, I’m learning something new”

Chifuyu flushed at your taunts. He took the manga back and brought it close to his chest.

“I know, I know. Who would have thought that a feared gangster would be into that stuff”

“Feared? You’re Chifuyu Matsuno, not Sano Manjirou”

Throwing a glare at you, you knew this was Chifuyus way of asking you to shut up. You chuckled at Chifuyus blushing angry face. Adorable, you thought to yourself as you took another sip from your coffee.

“I’m just joking. If ‘Nana’ is so important to you, I’m willing to give it a shot” You grinned at him “But we need to find the Saturn shaped earrings. I don’t know much about the plot, but I can tell these characters got style”

Bittersweet memories of you and Chifuyu sitting side by side in silence reading his favorite manga shot through your head. You’d discuss the themes with him, but most importantly, the jewelry of the manga. As it turned out the Saturn shaped earrings were made by the real life designer brand Vivienne Westwood, and staying true to your words, you dragged Chifuyu to a department store that sells Vivienne Westwwod pieces.

You remember entering the department store and being met with the smell of expensive perfumes and the bright colors of designer bags. As you walked further and further into the store, mesmerized by the sheer luxury money could buy, you finally spotted the familiar logo that you’ve been looking for. You grabbed Chifuyus arm and began moving closer to the Vivienne Westwood stand, excitedly pointing at it.

“Fuyu, look! We found it!”

You remember him chuckling at you, you remember the way his eyes sparkled in amusement. But more importantly, you remember forgetting for a second about the earrings upon gazing into his eyes. A wave of emotions so sweet rolled over you, you swore you were drowning in honey. Or perhaps you were drowning in the oceans of his eyes? Brilliant turquoise pools that seemed to drag you deeper and deeper into them, and for the first time in your life, drowning didn’t seem so scary anymore.

Either way, Chifuyu managed to take your breath away that day.

Your hand felt heavy as you mustered up all the strength to lift it to your ear. The metal saturn in your lobe, the earring you and Chifuyu got, felt so cold against your fingertips as the memories kept on replaying.

As it turned out, the earrings were way above your budget. Staring at the rhinestone encrusted studs, your mind began to crank the numbers.

“If I save up, I might get these earrings… in about three months”, you muttered under your breath mindlessly, eyes still focused on the price tag of the earrings you wanted to wear for so long.

You remember Chifuyu Chifuyu placing his hand on your shoulder and smiling warmly at you.

“You know, I always wanted us to have a friendship bracelet…” He trailed off, looking at you expectantly. The gleam in his eyes tells you that Chifuyu is trying to say something, hinting at something that you should understand.

“Yeah? What does that have to do with the earrings?” You bluntly stated, oblivious to his effort to get you to understand what he was trying to say.

“Dummy, you should stop hanging out with Baji-san. His stupidity is rubbing off on you” Chifuyu teased.

“Hey! Now that is insulting, you know? I’m way smarter than he is” You rolled your eyes at your best friend, feeling irked at being lumped into the same category as your dumbass friend, Baji. You were about to bark back an insult about his stupidly round face, or his dumb, edgy hair from middle school, literally anything, just to shut him up. However, knowing how you get defensive, Chifuyu cut you off, not letting you insult him.

“What I was trying to say was, we could also have friendship earrings. You pay for one earring, and I for the other.”

You were left speechless. Chifuyu’s words hit you like a brick, the meaning behind them slowly sinking in. He would pay half the price for the earrings that you wanted so desperately…

The sweet gesture makes you feel fuzzy deep inside. He knew how much you wanted the earrings, so he wanted to make sure you got at least one earring. So thoughtful of him, he cares for his friends a lot… Warmth spread across your body, as you met Chifuyu’s seafoam eyes gazing softly at you. You could make out his trademark smile and a pink hue grazing his face. For the first time, Chifuyu looked different to you.

Side eying the price tag, you were brought back to reality. These earrings were still expensive, even if Chifuyu paid half the price. You didn’t want him to spend his money on you, especially on jewelry.

“You don’t have to-”

“I insist. Besides it’s not like you’re getting the earrings to yourself. We’ll share”

“Still, I would like to-”

“Listen” , Chifuyu cut you off mid sentence once again.

“I will get you the earrings one way or another. If we walk out without the earrings today, I will come back and get the earrings another time. I know how much you want them, so please, let me at least help you out”

Your stomach churned, Chifuyu’s words hitting you right in your heart. Trying to be annoyed at him turned out to be futile, his stubbornness and insistence on getting the earrings made you feel appreciated. You meant a lot to him, and Chifuyu would go out of his way to prove to you that you are dear to him.

You sighed, giving up on all your counterarguments to stop Chifuyu from his plan.

“Fine, but promise me you’ll always wear your earring, ok?”

Chifuyu grinned victoriously at you, his hand reaching to find yours as he softly pulled you towards the counter.

“Of course. I just want to see you happy”

Walking out of the store, you and Chifuyu wore the earrings. You wearing your earring on your right ear, and him wearing his earring on his left ear, you walked through the busy streets of Tokyo in silence. Still unable to comprehend how Chifuyu was able to convince you to have friendship earrings - expensive designer friendship earrings no less - you racked your brain on how you’d thank him. To your surprise, Chifuyu took the initiative.

“The earring suits you a lot. I’m glad I can share this experience with you”

“Gosh Chifuyu, ever the charmer” You teased back, trying to play it cool. He didn’t need to know that his loving words were your kryptonite.

“Oh, I know I’m charming” Chifuyu chuckles as he stops and attempts to tuck your hair behind your ear to look at the earring.

“But I mean it. The earring suits you a lot; you bring out its beauty” Chifuyu gazed into your eyes “I love that we share the pair, you know? Now everyone will know that we are two halves of one whole”

You rolled your eyes at him, your heart beating faster and heat spreading across your face as you heard the latter part.

“You are such a sap, Fuyu. This is why Kazutora and Baji make fun of you”

“Hey!”

Chifuyu took his promise seriously; he never took off his earring. He knew how important it was for you to see the shining silver metal on him, and wearing the earring meant to him to commit to you and your friendship.

Sitting on the cold floor of your apartment, you remembered how your friendship turned into something different, into something that scared you.

As time went on, the boundaries between friendship and romance seemed to blur, and your feelings for your supposed best friend seemed to get more confusing. You found yourself daydreaming about the blonde man, worrying about his well-being and wondering who he's hanging out with when he wasn’t with you. Was he with Baji? The gang? With someone else? Someone prettier?

You’d have to snap yourself out of your thoughts on numerous occasions. What was going on with you? Why the hell did you think about Chifuyu possibly going out on dates, and why did it break your heart?

One particular event seemed to open your eyes to what you felt towards Chifuyu, your best friend.

Worry filled you as the nth text went unanswered. A wave of dread washed over you as the alarms went off in your head after remembering that Chifuyu was supposed to be in one of the shadiest parts of Tokyo, bashing some punk's head. Or getting his head bashed by some punk…

Remembering the way you were practically on your knees, your hands clasped together as you prayed to any God and entity that came to your mind, was bittersweet to you. God, you loved him more than you respect yourself. And you still do.

You remembered that the only thing that was able to stop your uncontrollable sobbing was the familiar sound of your doorbell ringing. Chifuyu…

It was truly remarkable how you were able to sense the person behind your front door was none other than your best friend. One moment, you were a sobbing mess on the floor, and the next, you were a sobbing mess at the door. You remember throwing yourself into the arms of a barely standing Chifuyu, almost knocking him off his feet. Tears soaked his already dirty gang uniform, but neither of you cared. All that mattered to you was that he was in your arms in one piece, alive and breathing.

Chifuyu held you tight. Seemingly having forgotten about his own painful bruises, he softly stroked your tear stricken cheek, cooing reassuringly to you as you felt his warm embrace engulf you.

“It’s fine” Chifuyu would whisper “I’m here. I’m not going anywhere” He knew you so well. He knew you would worry after not responding to any calls or messages, too busy to fight alongside his friends to pick up his phone, so Chifuyu mustered up the little energy he had left and limped to your home. As realization hit you, you couldn’t help but feel your heart flutter. You still shook in his arms, tears still falling down your eyes, but for a different reason.

You couldn’t deny it any longer: You were hopelessly in love with Chifuyu, and that fact alone made you unable to sleep. The memories still fresh in your mind of you rolling around in your bed, trying to find fault in the blonde man. You didn’t want to love him as much as you did, so trying to fall out of love seemed like a viable option. You thought hard of his stupid face when he read his favorite manga. But he looks so cute. His crazy devotion to his friends, he would do the most reckless things just to help. But he is so loyal and loving. You thought about his lame jokes, which you still laughed about because how could you not? No matter the way you looked at him, Chifuyu seemed beyond perfect, too good, in your eyes. With a defeated sigh, you gave up trying to find anything wrong with Chifuyu. There wasn’t anything wrong with him.

As time went on, the feelings you’ve been fighting so hard wouldn’t leave. Like a wolf stalking its prey, it was always a step right behind you, breathing right into your neck as it waited to swallow you whole. You feared loving Chifuyu, but you feared not loving Chifuyu as well.

So you withdrew from Chifuyu. Despite the stabbing pain you felt inside your heart as whenever you saw the disappointed and saddened face from the blonde whenever you’d decline hanging out with him, you knew that you had to stay away from him. Maybe the feelings would fade away on their own? You kept trying to tell yourself that loving Chifuyu wasn’t an option. It was either get your feelings under control or never see Chifuyu again. Guilty thoughts spread in your mind and followed you to your sleep, making you unable to rest. How could you ever think about leaving Chifuyu like that?

But oh, the Gods above must be laughing at the spectacle, wheezing as your mind was clouded by the fear of committing. At last, overwhelmed by the dread and lack of sleep, no clear thought was formed as you confronted Chifuyu one last time, to cut the string that connected you two. Everything was a blur, you could barely remember the exact words you uttered to your now ex best friend, but one thing you could never forget, and that was his face. You remember clearly his eyes shooting wide as your words sunk in, his eyebrows knitting together. Chifuyu opened his mouth, to ask you, no, to beg you to stay, but you were unable to look him in the eye with a clear conscience. So you ran to your home.

A loud bang behind you brought you back to reality. Of course Chifuyu wouldn’t just accept defeat. He’d do anything to get you back.

“Please, let’s just talk it out!” Chifuyu demanded behind your door, the banging on the door not faltering. He’s going to hurt himself, you thought, wanting to open the door, and bandage his throbbing hands. In another life, you’d profusely apologize for even thinking about abandoning Chifuyu. In another life, you’d have the courage to face the hungry wolf and allow it to consume you; you’d embrace the beast that was love and come to the understanding that love’s bite isn’t as painful as you originally thought. In another life, you’d give love a chance. But fate is anything but nice, and now you have to suffer through the consequences of throwing away your friendship.

You clasped your hand over your mouth, muffling the sobbing to the best of your abilities. Tears streamed down your face, and judging by the shakiness of Chifuyu’s pleas, you weren’t the only one crying.

“I know you’re listening to me, so please, I can’t just let you cut ties with me like that! Talk to me, we can fix whatever is bothering you!”

And God knows the cruelest answer to the begging of a broken hearted man is silence. But how could you respond when your mind is so loud? Every fiber in your body was screaming, demanding you to answer Chifuyu, to ask for forgiveness and pour your hearts out on him, but you couldn’t allow yourself to open the door. So you didn’t answer him, forcing yourself to remain quiet as the man behind your door couldn’t admit defeat just yet.

“Please, we can even pretend this never happened. I just need you to talk to me”, Chifuyus voice trembled, still of the opinion that his words full of agony could reach you. You had to finally end it, so you took a deep breath to calm yourself. Collecting the little energy that you had left, you were sent the final blow that burned the bridges.

“Why can’t you just leave me alone?” your words dripping with poison, you projected the disgust you felt towards yourself onto Chifuyu.

“Can’t you see that I just don’t want to be around you? Things have changed, Chifuyu, so be a fucking adult about it and accept my decision”

And with that, the knocking stopped and Chifuyu remained quiet. You held your own breath as you felt regret wash over you. You said way too much. Your words so mean and hateful, words you didn’t even mean, have effectively broken Chifuyu’s will and heart. The silence became so overbearing that you assumed he might have left already, until you heard his voice right behind your door.

“I’m sorry you had to put up with me. I know that it must have been hard for you to make this decision, but you have every right to end our friendship if it feels wrong to you. I accept and respect it, I really do, although it pains me to let you go like that” Chifuyu stayed silent for a moment, his voice still shaky when he continued “I will always treasure the time that I have spent with you. And despite the way that you’ve decided to end it…. I can’t hate you. Goodbye”

And just like that, Chifuyu left and took a piece of your heart with him. You felt numb, never having anticipated that you’d lose yourself in the process of letting go of Chifuyu. It’s for the better, you tried to tell yourself, but your broken heart knew better. Your attempt at standing up failed, your legs and arms weren’t able to carry you to your bedroom, so you remained seated on the cold floor, your back still pressed against your door. Before you knew it, sleep had taken over you, kidnapping you to a time and place much merrier.

Dreaming of gleaming seafoam eyes contorted in pain as tears rolled down his rosy cheeks, you couldn’t even escape Chifuyu in your sleep, but oh, he still looked so pretty to you. You wanted to reach out to him so desperately, but you just couldn’t move. You didn’t even have the chance to admire him any longer, as a knock on the door awoke you from your slumber. Groaning, you cursed at the person that had woken you up. Grumbling, you managed to stand up with shaky legs. The person behind the door seemed eager, the knocking not seeming to end anytime soon. So, you opened the door to see an empty hallway. Were you imagining things? Have you gone insane at this point? Or did someone play a childish prank on you?

Feeling fed up, you attempted to slam the door shut, however, something was blocking it from closing. You saw a small package from a familiar online retailer and mentally slapped yourself. Of course you’d get whatever you’ve ordered at the worst time possible. Bending down, you stretched your arms to pick up the package, until you spotted something silver on your doormat. All thoughts about the package left your mind as you inspected the shiny object, already dreading what it was.

In your hand, you held a small saturn shaped earring, the perfect twin to the one you were wearing.

“No”, you breathed out, as your suspicions got confirmed. The silver Vivienne Westwood earring Chifuyu wore as a symbol for your friendship. He must have taken it off and placed it on the doormat after I demanded he’d leave… You knew that this was ultimately what you wanted, cutting contact with Chifuyu to fall out of love, but holding the symbol of your friendship in your hand was a special kind of pain.

So you took the earring inside, having forgotten about the package, and went to your bedroom. Heading to grab your jewelry box, you placed the Chifuyu’s earring inside. With a heavy heart, your hands moved to your ear, slowly taking off your own earring and placing it right beside the other one. You knew this was the right thing to do, after all, at least the earrings could be a perfect pair together.

#chifuyu matsuno #chifuyu x reader #chifuyu angst #ghostqueues #chifuyu x reader angst #tokyo revengers chifuyu #tr chifuyu #tokyo revengers x reader #tokyo revengers angst #tokyo revengers x reader angst #tr x reader #tr angst #chifuyu matsuno x reader

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venturethroughtheveil · 11 months

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Beyond The Pines [Pt. I]

[Series description: Two years ago, dad died from cancer, leaving you to raise your younger sister, Vivian, alone. Your best friend, Ellie, was one of the few support systems you had until your feelings for her seemingly put a strain on your relationship. When Vivian goes missing, can you trust Ellie to help bring her back?]

[Author comments: I've put together an audio to go play along as you read. Voices are *ALL* AI-generated using ElevenLabs. I did not include Y/N's voice in order to preserve your own inner dialogue. This series will be slow-burn, and will have smut and graphic depictions of violence. 18+ only.]

[Credit to Youtube Channels Ambient City (horse stables); Hursty Outdoors (walking/snow); Music: Gustavo Santaolalla (Opening Suite; Longing; Unbound)]

Be sure to expand the audio to play from the beginning!

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You slipped a glove off, braving the winter chill to scavenge your jacket pockets.

Sugar cube.

A rare commodity for your generation; you were lucky to find a small box of them while scavenging a ravaged coffee shop. You twiddled the rock-hard substance between your thumb and index, anything to dissociate from the girls’ conversation. Something about Dina falling into a pile of shit; you tried not to smile at that.

Fresh, powdered snow crunched beneath the heel of your boots. The warm glow of faerie lights danced across the ground at the stable’s entrance.

Jackson was quiet. Peaceful. Safe. A stark contrast from the nightmarish infected and worse – bandits – roaming the mountains outside town limits.

They pass you.

“C’mere, Phantom,” The sleek, black mare whinnied and happily trotted into her refuge, “my pretty girl.”

She was a young horse, strong, with a spitfire nature. You had that in common.

When you weren’t on duty, you and Ellie used to race her and Shimmer on Cirque Trail, stopping to stuff your pockets full of wild huckleberries, which Joel made into killer pies. You frowned at the thought.

Gently, you threaded your hands through Phantom’s mane, silently thanking her for keeping you safe another day.

"Because you've been so good today," you murmur, presenting the sugar cube in a cupped hand. Immediately, Phantom gnashes it between her teeth, nose flaring.

Her face is just too comical. You laugh, wiping the slobber from your palms on your worn blue jeans.

The shrill creak of another stable door shutting disrupts the moment. Dina laughs at something Ellie says.

“Night, Ellie.”

From your peripheral, you see the woman leave.

The last six hours of patrol were miserable, from the clutch of infected you cleared to the dry dialogue between you and your friends.

Well, you were friends until three months ago at the town dance when you watched Ellie and Dina kiss. At this, you passed your glass of whiskey off to an equally dumbfounded Jesse and walked straight out of the hall, tears pricking your eyes and bile rising in your throat.

Beyond patrols with them– which, despite your pleas, Maria continued to schedule, likely to force a reconciliation – you hadn’t talked to either since.

Apart from working well together, you and Dina weren’t inseparable, so avoiding her has been relatively easy. On the other hand, avoiding Ellie, your ex-best friend, has been excruciating. No matter how hard she tried – showing up at your door in the dead of night to beg you to come outside, leaving joints on your windowsill, landing snowballs square in the back of your head – Ellie couldn’t get more than cut-and-dry responses out of you.

Eventually, she stopped trying.

Part of you was embarrassed at your childish behavior, but you couldn’t face her, not after that night.

You closed the latch to Phantom’s stable, hyper-aware of the forest green eyes that bore into your side profile.

Without a word, you make your way over toward Mike, who was on duty tonight.

“Hey - thanks again for picking up a shift so short notice, Y/N,” he gave you a sympathetic smile, “with the horde that’s passing through, we can’t be too careful.”

‘Bullshit. This is all Maria.’

“Sure, don’t mention it” Your tone was casual, but irritation and exhaustion were etched into your features. Desperate to go home and avoid Ellie – who was clearly waiting for you, you quickly scribbled in the logbook.

‘Four runners + three clickers in Tetonia. Cleared.’

You said goodnight to Mike and walked straight past the freckled girl. She was propped up against the stable entrance, brows furrowed and lips in a tight line. She looked tired.

“Uh - hey...”

You keep walking.

“…okay…”

‘Fuck off,’ you wanted to say. Instead, you shook your head and gripped your backpack tighter, eyes unable to meet hers.

No more stargazing with her. No more all-nighters snuggled up watching cheesy 1980s horror films. No more spitballing ideas for her next set of tattoos – a rabbit skull; an arrow; the numbers 000129 – she never explained that one; an ouroboros. No more. You had bigger things to worry about.

She made her choice, and it wasn’t you.

‘UGH,’ Your face scrunched up in a cringe.

She could have at least told you. While her head was in your lap – your fingers gently combing her auburn locks to the soft tune of Johnny Cash’s Hurt filling your bedroom – she was dreaming of Dina the whole time.

And you could have it all, my empire of dirt.

I will let you down.

I will make you hurt.

Heat bloomed across your face in embarrassment. You never told Ellie that you loved her – that you were in love with her – hell, you didn’t even understand it until you saw them lock lips at the dance. Now, you were cursed to watch them fall in love while you self-isolated and grew more bitter by the day.

The walk home was about thirty minutes from the stables. A good chunk of land on the outskirts of Jackson that's been in the family for generations.

Hopefully, your sister wasn’t asleep. You needed to vent.

‘If I walk fast, I’ll probably get home at 10ish.’

Fragrant pine and earth filled your frost-nipped nostrils. Even with your heavy parka, and thick, fur-lined boots, the cold settled deep in your bones. Without a flashlight, seeing your hands in front of your face would be impossible. It was that dark out.

The metal of your keys stung your battered hands. You became keenly aware of something behind you as you turned the lock. No need to reach for your pistol; it was obvious who was in your driveway.

‘How the fuck did I not notice her?’

“So, you’re stalking me now?” Without turning around, you tapped the heel of your boots against the worn, wooden deck to knock off the snow. You then kneeled to untie them. “Go home, El.” There was an authority in your voice.

Footsteps approached, crunching through the snow.

“Maybe I’m not here to see you,” Ellie shrugged, “maybe I’m here to see Vivian.”

“I really doubt that.”

You turned and looked up at her, batting snowflakes from your lashes. It was the first time you’d really studied her face in weeks.

Dark circles hung beneath her eyes, cheeks hollow as if she’d not slept or eaten, yet, with that constellation of freckles smattered across her face, the deep forest green of her eyes, those lips, she was still the most beautiful girl you’d ever seen, more beautiful than any model from those Vogue magazines your sister collects.

“You look like shit.” You lied.

��Gee, thanks.” A smile tugged at the corner of Ellie’s lips. “Can I come in? It’s cold as shit out here.”

You hesitated; time seemingly slowed as you studied her. Ellie’s eyes met yours, unwavering. That stupid cocky smirk was still etched into her face.

“Take your shoes off,” you conceded. “Don’t track horse shit into my house.”

Family pictures, odds and ends from your grandparents’ vacations to Maine, and cheesy words of affirmation your mother hung years ago adorned the entrance of your home. It wasn’t your style, but it felt wrong to take them down.

Ellie’s eyes traveled around the room, searching for changes.

The cabin was simply too spacious for just Vivian and yourself. Two stories tall, there were four rooms and three baths. Maria has scheduled to move incoming residents downstairs sometime next month. This angered you more than Viv. This was your family’s home, and you certainly didn’t want strangers sleeping in what once was your parents’ bedroom. You didn’t have any say in the matter.

Your younger sister, on the other hand, was enthusiastic. For her, it was ‘too quiet,’ being just the two of you. You couldn’t really blame her, though. Most interactions between you since your dad’s passing have stuck to mostly your venting about patrols and Maria and all the house repairs needed. Vivian would talk about her newest boyfriend – if you can even call them that – the boys never lasted more than a month.

Dad passed two years ago from cancer.

It was a devastating loss to both of you, but you especially had little time to grieve. Vivian was just 14 at the time. She’d started supervised patrols with Jesse only one week prior. Dad was proud.

When everything went to shit, you took extra patrols to cover Viv’s duties. You did this for a few reasons, to let her have the chance to be a kid and grieve, to provide for your baby sister, and to avoid facing the reality of your situation. You two were alone in the world, and you weren’t ready to raise a 14-year-old.

Ellie made the extra effort to be there for you both. She’d walk Vivian to school and training, cook dinner, and often help with chores. She’d spend ration coupons on old, crumbling makeup or cheap-smelling candles that your sister adored.

It wouldn’t be totally out of character for Ellie to walk all this way to check on Viv, not at this hour, though, and you both knew it.

‘So why did you let her in?’

You set your shoes down at the entrance, inviting Ellie to do the same. The grandfather clock in the adjacent dining room read 10:13 pm.

“I’ll tell Vivian you’re here. I’m gonna head to bed –“

“Come on, Y/N,” Ellie grabs your arm, “I can’t live like this anymore. You don’t answer the door, you won’t talk to me,” she grips you tighter, “you won’t even fucking look at me.”

Her touch burned your skin. You try to yank back your hand to no avail. She was much stronger than you.

“I fucking miss you, I miss my best fucking friend, and I don’t even know what I did wrong.” Her eyes are pleading, desperate.

“Let go of me, asshole,” you demand in a whisper-yell. “you’re gonna fucking wake Viv.”

But it was useless; Ellie’s eyes were determined, glossy, as if she were on the verge of tears.

She pulls you closer to her, chest pressed against yours, and you’re sure she can feel your heartbeat pounding out of your ribcage. This is too close. Intimately close.

“Talk to me. Say what you need to say.” She demands. “yell at me, hit me – anything – so we can move on and pretend you haven’t been acting fucking insane the last few months.”

Her lips are too close to yours.

“Don’t make me.” Your voice was small, eyes welling with tears. Emotions that had been bottled for the past three months. It was your turn to beg. Beg her not to do this. Not here, not ever. All you wanted was to grieve the loss of your friendship and move on so you could get your shit together for your sister. There was no room for weakness in your life anymore. Cutting her off is easier than a painful rejection.

Ellie’s eyes searched yours for an answer, and her lips were pulled in a frown.

“I need to know, Y/N.”

‘Don’t do it.’

You weren’t the best at impulse control. It was a trait you got from mom, something you thought you’d begun to improve at. But the body heat between you, the desperation in Ellie’s eyes, and her nails digging into your now-bare shoulders were too much.

Ellie’s lips were chapped compared to yours. Salty from the tears that had flown moments prior. The kiss was innocent, sad. Your lips moved gently against her still ones. This wasn’t how you dreamt it happening.

The kiss was over as soon as it began.

Ellie pulled back, freeing you from her iron grip. You both stood there, facing each other for an eternity. The grandfather clock ticked loudly.

She looked dumbstruck, cheeks blooming red, and it wasn’t from the cold.

“Shit”

White-hot shame finally engulfed you as you realized what you’d just done.

‘So much for self-control.’

Without another word, you grabbed the jacket at your feet and rushed upstairs, two steps at a time.

Part of you wanted to seek refuge in your sister’s room, cuddle up, and cry into her shoulder like when you were kids and mom and dad would have screaming matches downstairs. Instead, you barged into your room and locked the door behind you.

Ellie doesn't follow.

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starfirewildheart · 5 months

Text

Chapter 2

The Wolf and the Flame

Summary: Geralt had just found Ciri and was headed to Kaer Morhen when something drew him into the woods. He found a woman near death and things changed for them all. (I suck at summaries just read please!) Yennefer is bad in the start of this but she and Geralt work on their friendship. Eskel is a dick at first but there is a reason and it works out. Will have a happy ending. Ciri is younger here than in the netflix show. She is about 12.

Warnings: abuse history, injuries, hurt comfort, no one under 18 to be safe, will add when I need to

Words: 3,233

Naurel heard soft muted sounds around her. A crackling fire, water being dipped out of a bucket, the sound of something being placed on a hard surface. An astringent smell stung her nose and she absently wondered who’d been injured and if she was needed to help. She was on a hard surface but was warm with a soft pillow under her head. Then the pain registered in her mind and all the terror she’d experienced flooded back with a vengeance. She gasped a deep, wheezing breath and sat bolt upright. Searing pain shot through her body and her ribs protested both her breathing and movement so much that she nearly vomited.

Geralt had been crouched down adding more wood to the fire when he heard the gasping breath. As quick as he was, the woman had already sat up by the time he got to her. He gently pushed her back down. “You are safe here.”

Her eyes locked with the giant man’s again and she remembered seeing them before and some of the panic ebbed. “W..Where am I?” Her voice was scratchy and her throat hurt but nothing like it had before when she was awake.

“You are in the town of Lakeside, at the home of the healer,” he answered. “What is your name?”

“Naurel,” she answered. “How did I…? I was dying..” she trailed off, confused.

“You were nearly dead when I found you and brought you here,” he affirmed. “Triss worked for hours to bring you back from the brink.”

“Who are you?”

“Geralt of Riva,” he nodded to her. “We were traveling and saw your encampment. Were you traveling with the Nilfgaarians?”

A shiver ran through her. “No.” She was afraid to tell him she had been their prisoner. She didn’t know anything about him or where his loyalties lay.

He could sense her hesitation and didn’t push. She’d been through hell and he knew it would take time for her to trust him. Still, he felt drawn to her. There was something there that he didn’t understand. “What happened?”

“I..I’m not sure,” She hedged. It was partly true. She didn’t know exactly how things had happened in the end. “My dress?” she gasped and tried to set up again but his hand on her shoulder stopped her.

“It’s ruined. We will get you something else to wear.”

“But I need it!”

Her eyes were panicked and he could smell the stress coming from her. “I don’t think it can be saved but I will put it in my bag to be cleaned.”

“No,” she shook her head. “The skirt has a hidden pocket on the inside.” She watched Geralt go to the pile of rags that was formerly her dress and search the pieces until he found what he was searching for and returned it to her. She clutched the gold locket against her chest with trembling hands and relaxed against the pillow. “Thank you. It’s the only thing I have from my birth family. The only clue to who I was before I became nothing.”

“Where are you from?” He continued with the questions, keeping them simple so she didn’t feel threatened, although he wanted to argue with her about being nothing.

“I.. I don’t know where I was born,” she told him honestly. “I was sold as a slave in Centra when I was three. I remained there, though I was sold to a few different families over the years.”

A frown crossed his stone features. “I had no idea that Calanthe allowed slavery in her kingdom.” He knew she was not the great Queen some pretended her to be. While she wasn’t as prejudiced as Nilfgaard and its leaders she still did not like elves or anyone different in her eyes. She just wasn’t as open about it. “Is that who did this to you? The person who owned you?”

“No. I mean yes.” She sighed and tried again to explain, “some of it,” she corrected. “I was accused of taking something from the market but I didn’t,” she insisted. Panic was starting to bubble up in her chest. Why the hell was she telling him about her accused crime? What if he took her back there so they could punish her more? She would end up back in the hands of her torturer?

Geralt could hear her heart starting to race and her breath hitching. “Easy, you are safe. I will not let anyone else harm you Naurel. I promise you. Relax and slow your breathing. It will only aggravate your ribs.”

“You are a witcher.” It was a statement, not a question. Geralt nodded. “Why are you helping me? I have no coin to pay you or anything to give you in return.”

“I am not asking for anything.” He had to bite back a frustrated sigh at the damn witcher stereotypes. “I’m not the monster.”

“I.. I didn’t mean to imply that you were. I just.. I know witchers kill monsters for coin. It’s how you survive.” She stumbled over her words. “Thank you, for everything. I didn’t mean to insult you.”

He was about to speak when Triss and Ciri came barreling in from outside. “Good, you’re awake,” Triss sighed breathlessly. “The villagers have heard about what happened to the girl. How she was found among the dead and they think she's a death omen. They are coming here. You can’t stay here Geralt.”

“She can’t travel like this,” he growled. “I’ll talk to them.”

“They are in no talking mood. I tried. They are afraid that whatever killed all the soldiers is still after her. If she stays here then they think whoever or whatever it was will come looking for her.” Triss paused. “I can’t say I disagree with them either. She poses a threat to the village and Lakeside is a peaceful place.”

Naurel pulled herself to a sitting position, noticing for the first time that she was naked under the sheet as it pooled around her hips. Her face flamed red as she quickly covered herself. “I don’t want to cause trouble.”

Triss nodded at her and started gathering some herbs. She handed them to Geralt along with some other supplies and a jar with flowers and a white milky liquid inside. “This is milk of the poppy. A drop of this under her tongue for pain when she needs it. It’s fall and the herbs and flowers are getting hard to come by. I don't know if you will be able to find much on your journey. Traveling will not be easy on horseback but she would never survive a portal. Take her to Kaer Morhen. I will go ahead and let Vesimer know you are coming. We will prepare for your arrival.”

He didn’t like it at all but he knew Triss was right. He would have to kill the entire village if they stayed and he couldn’t risk exposing Ciri like that. By the time he packed the saddlebags and got the horses ready Triss had helped Naurel into a dress and some shoes. The poor girl was still so weak she was shaking like a leaf blowing in a windstorm. Scooping her up in his arms he placed her on Roach before climbing up behind her. The villagers were running toward them with pitchforks and torches as they rode out of town.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Geralt kept the pace as slow as he dared to try and lessen the strain on Naurel’s battered body. Even though Triss healed all she could there were still many injuries that remained. He could feel her start to lean against his chest, body exhausted but then she would quickly straighten up again and try to support her weight. He wrapped one of his arms around her waist and carefully pressed her back. “Rest, I’ll keep you steady.”

She sank back against him, no match for his strength. Hell, she was pretty sure a slight breeze could knock her over right now. “I don’t want to hurt you,” she argued even though she didn’t try to set back up.

He grinned at her. “I assure you that your weight is no burden.” It was like her body fit to his perfectly. It felt right. “How is your pain? Do you need something for it?”

She shook her head as she curled to his chest. His skin was so warm and she was so cold. One of the many experiments that the evil sorcerer had performed on her made her feel like her blood was ice. “So warm,” she sighed. Geralt pulled his cloak so that it was wrapped around her as well. There was barely a chill in the air and he wondered if an infection was starting to sit in on some of her wounds.

“Do you want some water?” Ciri wanted to talk to the woman, to find out more about her but she was unsure. In the back of her mind, she wondered if the woman was sent to kidnap her. She knew it didn’t make sense but still, she was leery of the newcomer.

Naurel forced her eyes open and smiled at Ciri. “No thank you, Princess.”

“You know who I am?”

“Yes,” she rested her head back against Geralt’s shoulder. “May I ask why the Lion Cub of Centra is traveling with a witcher and not the guard?”

Ciri bristled, “is that some sort of cruel joke? How do you know who I am?” she demanded.

“I meant no disrespect,” she said as she sat up straight. “I know who you are because I was a slave in your city. When I would go to the market I would often see you playing knucklebones. Members of the guard would always be lurking nearby to keep you safe.”

“Then you know well that all my family was slaughtered by the same soldiers you were found with! How dare you be so cruel!” Ciri shouted.

“Easy,” Geralt said as he held a calming hand out toward Ciri. “She was a captive not a member of their party.”

Ciri backed down slightly but was still angry. “Fine but why be so cruel to ask why I’m not with my dead family?” she demanded.

“Dead?” Naurel gasped. “How?”

Geralt was shocked that she didn’t know about the sacking of Centra. “How long were you held captive?”

“I.. I lost track. I was kept chained in the dark. No sun or moonlight ever filtered down to the depths of hell I was a part of.” A shiver ran through her at the memory. “I’m very sorry about your family princess.”

Ciri huffed and trotted her horse ahead a bit. She didn’t like this woman at all. Geralt was ready to stop Ciri when she rode ahead but she didn’t go far so he let her have some space. He could feel the anger coming off his young charge and the sadness and disappointment coming off of the woman in his arms. This was going to be a long trip.

“I didn’t mean to upset her,” Naurel said as she forced herself to set up again. She always seemed to say the wrong thing. “I don’t think I can walk very far but if you could find a place near the water to leave me. I will be fine.” She squirmed attempting to free herself.

“You think I am going to leave you alone in the woods, injured?” Geralt asked. He was angry that she even suggested it.

“If I’m close to the water I’ll likely survive.” She shrugged then flinched at the pain the simple movement caused her.

“And when something or someone attacks you?” he growled.

She shrugged again, hissing at the movement. She really had to stop doing that. “Then I die.”

Her answer was so blunt and matter of fact that it caught him off guard. “If I was willing to let that happen I would have left you in the woods where I found you. Ciri is in pain right now, just like you, only her’s is emotional pain.” He put his large hand on her stomach and pressed her back against him before wrapping her in his cloak again. “And you will listen to me when I tell you to do something. It is not up for debate.” Geralt didn’t know why he felt so possessive of her but he did. It was like she was meant to be a part of him.

A wave of desire ran through her and she wanted to bare her neck to him and submit but that wasn’t in her nature, ever. It’s like the words that came from Geralt went straight to her soul. Like he was meant to command her and she was built to be his to command. What the hell had that sorceress done to her? She’d never felt this way before. She let him push her back and settled in but gave him a grievous pout in return and she was sure she saw the corner of his mouth turn up in a grin. That was the last thing she remembered until they came to a stop a few hours later.

“We need to make camp for the night,” Geralt said. Ciri, who had fallen back to ride beside him again, pulled her horse to a stop and hopped down grateful to be out of the saddle for a bit. Geralt handed her his bedroll. “Put that down over there so I can put Naurel on it while I set up camp.”

“I can do it,” Naurel said from the crook of his neck. She felt him chuckle. “I can,” she huffed.

“Uh huh,” he agreed as he climbed off of Roach and pulled her into his arms. “I know you can.” She was fucking adorable.

“You know, I’m not going to be weak forever witcher.” Her growl was tiny and soft but a growl non the less.

“Oh I’m counting on that,” he smirked as he put her on the blanket. “Now do you think the two of you can stay out of trouble long enough for me to gather some wood for a fire?”

Naurel and Ciri both gave him indignant huffs as he walked away. Ciri sat down next to Naurel and offered her some water. “That’s the first time I’ve seen him smile,” she told the redhead.

Naurel took a sip of the water. “He isn’t anything like the stories I’ve heard of witchers. They are said to be feral, emotionless beasts whose only thoughts are to kill monsters, seek pleasure, and make coin. Geralt seems to be the opposite of that really.” She looked at Ciri, “I’m sorry about earlier. I didn’t mean to upset you.”

“It’s alright. I overreacted. It’s just still all so fresh in my mind that anything seems to cause a flood of memories and thoughts.”

She nodded in sympathy. “How long have you known Geralt?”

“Four days.” She smiled at the surprised look on Naurel’s face. “Before I was born the law of surprise was invoked. My grandmother told me to find him as she lay dying. That he was my destiny. I still have no idea what that means,” Ciri confessed.

“What does he have to say about it?” Naurel asked.

“I haven’t asked him,” Ciri confessed. “Since I found him people have been trying to take me or kill me and then he found you so there hasn’t been time to talk about it.”

“About what?” Geralt asked as he strode back to camp with his arms full of wood.

Ciri bit her lip. “What any of this means. What I am to you?”

He continued to set up the wood for a fire as they spoke but Naurel caught the tightness that flashed in his eyes momentarily. “It means that I will protect you with my life. We will find out why all of this is happening.”

“Why would my grandmother keep all of this from me?” She was hurt and angry to have been kept in the dark so long.

“I assume she thought she was somehow protecting you. We never realize our time is short until it’s too late.” He looked up at her with sympathetic eyes. “I don’t think she did it with malice. I think she wanted to hide you from the evils of the world and protect you but all she managed to do was to leave you unprepared for what was to happen. She left you with more questions than answers but I promise you, I will do all in my power to help you.”

Ciri nodded, happy with that answer. She was relieved that she wasn’t to be his wife. Gods Geralt was hot of course but he was far too old for her. Appeased for now she watched as Geralt flirted with Naurel. It was funny to watch, really. You could tell it was completely foreign to the witcher but still, he was so damn cute.

They all talked for a while before Ciri fell asleep near the fire. Geralt checked all Naurel’s bandages before bundling her in a blanket close to his side under the lean-to he’d built to block the wind. “You should rest,” he told her.

“No, you should rest. You have been going for at least forty-eight hours Geralt, you need sleep.”

“I will be fine,” he argued.

“When you sleep are you easy to wake?” she asked.

“Of course but I won’t fall asleep. I will keep you safe,” he reassured her.

“I know you will.” She gently pushed at his shoulder until he let her readjust his position and pull his head against her chest. “You sleep. If I hear anything I promise I will wake you. When I get sleepy I will tell you and you can take watch.” When he opened his mouth to protest she put her finger to his lips to stop him. “No arguing witcher,” she scolded. “It’s your turn to let me take care of you for a while.” She felt his shoulders slump in defeat and knew she’d won.

Geralt was going to continue to argue but he let her win this one. He would rest his eyes for a few minutes so that she felt like she had helped him some. He laid his head on her chest and sighed contentedly as she started carding her fingers through his hair. Her soft, pliant body against him, her fingers massaging his scalp and back, her sweet scent, and the warmth of the fire lulled him to sleep and for the first time in a long time, he didn’t have a nightmare.

Tag List

@kneelforloki

#henry cavill #henry cavill fanfiction #witcher geralt #the witcher #witcher fanfiction

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trafalgarlogy · 1 year

Text

THE KING'S WOMAN! Qin Shi Huang X fem! reader

CHAPTER 1 !

WARNINGS: GORE, BETRAYAL, LOVE TRIANGLES, MASS KILLING, YANDERE-ISH, OBSESSIVE BEHAVIOUR, SUICIDE

-Flashback-

On a dark night, soldiers of Zhao chased a mysterious figure in the forest, there was nothing that could be seen clearly, lighting up their torches they ran to the end of the forest to finally catch their prey, which appeared to be a young boy of around ten weeping for help, wounded, his face covered with blood and a huge scar, the guards pulled their swords out ready to attack the young boy

"HELP!!!!" he yelled for the final time covering his head with his small hands and closing his teary eyes until two figures stood in front of him shadowing him, as the silence spread in his surroundings

he hesitantly looked up opening one of his eyes, viewing two kids of the same age as him, "amazing..." he thought to himself looking up at them, having second look he realized one was a boy and another was a girl, for a while his eyes sparkled in admiration.

the girl turned back to look at him with a concerned look on her face, "this place is dangerous for now let's get out of here and treat your wounds! " she said lending her hand to help him get up, he was quiet shy and embarrassed at the same time, he held her hand slowly and got up

when he got a closer look at the girl, he saw her silky (h/c) hair shining in the moonlight, her rosy lips curled into a smile, and her beautiful eyes that made him feel like heaven hit him, touching her warm palm made him feel safe

he turned to look at the surroundings to see all guards knocked out, it was quite a shock for him, "don't worry about them, they won't be able to chase us anytime sooner, let's go" she said confidently.

after a while.....

"thank god, we didn't get in trouble," said the boy who introduced himself as, Jing Ke, "or else grandfather would have been angry" the (h/c) girl giggled as the three of them sat at the end of the cliff viewing the breathtaking view of the moon, "oh I forgot to as what is your name?" she turned to look at the wounded boy who was very silent, " Y-Ying Zheng......" he replied, "hmmm, so Ying Zheng tell me how did you end up getting chased by the soldiers of the Zhao? " she asked out curiosity, Ying Zheng's grip tightened remembering it all...though he was not certainly sure, why

"Oh I see, it's ok if you're not comfortable," she said smiling at him, "can you show me your hand, I'll try to cover it up for now cause it hurts like hell if you keep your wounds in the contact of surroundings," she suggested, Ying Zheng put his hand forward nervously as she gently held it with one hand and using the other to takeout a handkerchief from her pocket and slowly tied the handkerchief on his hand and later kissing it softly, he flushed red at the moment for what just happened

"By the way, what's your name ?... " Ying Zheng asked the (h/c) haired girl," Wei (Name), but just call me (Name)" she said with a grin.

"Hey Ying Zheng, what is it you want to become when you get older? " Jing Ke asked, "OH!! HOW ABOUT WE TELL EACHOTHER'S GOALS IN LIFE" (Name) exclaimed, "Hmmm, so I'll start! I want to improve my martial skills and become a great warrior like (Name)'s grandfather and protect (Name) for the rest of my life," said Jing Ke looking towards the moon and then turning his head towards (Name), "OK! I'm up next, so I want world peace, and all this war and fight to end once and for all," said (Name) confidently, "So, Ying Zheng now it is your turn". "I want to become a person who is powerful and feared so that I can protect the ones, I love", (Name) gasped, "Woah that's really nice !" she said smiling widely.

-End Of Flashback!-

Ying Zheng smiled within himself looking at the handkerchief that (Name) once gave him, it had been years since he last saw her, and with her breathtaking smile, he always kept thinking of where she was now? how was she doing? , he couldn't get (Name) out of his mind even as the King of the Qin

after all, He missed her.....

End of Chapter 1 !

NOTES !: i. I'll be writing Qin Shi Huang as Ying Zheng till the near bit end. ii. I got lazy with the senior's name so I used the name of the senior in the show. so don't mind it-

#qin shi huang x reader #qin shi huang #ror #record of ragnarok #xreader #record of ragnarok x reader #record of ragnarok qin shi huang #shuumatsu no valkyrie #snv #itssimpforeternity #nyxxcore

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specialagentlokitty · 4 months

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Giles x teen!reader - a demigods fate

Part 10:

Buffy tilted her head back, taking a deep breath.

“We.. we need to give them a proper burial…”

Giles snapped his head up, shaking it.

“No… no that’s.. that’s not what they wanted…”

The trio looked at him confused, and he looked down at you.

“There’s a uh.. there’s a lake… we.. we must take them there…”

“Will it help them…?” Willow whispered.

“I’m afraid not… but it’s… it’s what they wanted…”

Giles picked you uk and immediately the hounds stood, ready to follow you anywhere.

“I.. I.. need their jacket from my office… and.. and some things we can use to clean the uh.. the blood..”

Giles carried you to his car, and he carefully laid you in the back seat, waiting for the others to come through and they brought what he needed.

He set everything in the backseat and he reached with trembling hands for his keys in his pockets, tears burning his eyes.

“I.. I can’t drive…”

The hellhounds barked, looking into the shadows.

“The hounds can shadow travel, they’ll know where to go.” Chiron said.

Giles handed everything back to the three students, and he picked you up once more, following the hounds into the shadows.

It was dark and cold for a second, and then it became clear, warm sun shining through the trees, just in front of them a small sandy shore.

They all walked over to it, and Giles looked around.

“It’s.. it’s just like they said…”

“This place was the centre of death for many years, when the underworld moved it sprang back to life more clear than ever. Everything untainted, Poseidon left this one lake to his brother as a thank you for something Hades did, it still links to the underworld.”

Chiron laid himself down, unfolding a blanket and he put it on the sand, then Giles laid you on the blanket.

“I.. I don’t understand doesn’t water belong to Poseidon?” Xander asked.

Chiron nodded his head.

“It does, except this lake is now the purified version of the river Styx, so it still belongs to (Y/N)s father, whom has agreed to hold their body here forever as per their wish.”

Giles said nothing, and he began to clean the blood from your head very carefully.

“What does that mean…?” Buffy whispered.

Chiron looked at her.

“It means their will become part of the lakebed, the ground will take their body and keep it safe for eternity, where no more harm will come to pass to them.”

Giles moved to cleaning your arms, your hands.

He then took your jacket and carefully put it on your, zipping it up so he wouldn’t have to see the gaping wound in your stomach.

Taking the coin from his pocket and he flipped it, catching the sword, he placed your hands around the hilt, placing them on your chest, blade pointed down.

He sighed, brushing some hair from your face, and he looked towards the water.

“So.. they’ll be here forever..?” Willow sniffled.

Chiron nodded his head.

“Yes.”

Willow looked around the lake, and the crystal clear water.

“It’s a nice place…”

Giles picked you up, holding you in his arms and he turned to the lake, taking a deep and shaky breath as he walked over to it.

He didn’t want to walked into it, but it was something you made him promise, you wanted to be buried here, so he walked into the water.

He kept going until it was up to his chest, and he was barely supporting you, the water gently holding your lifeless form.

He moved one of his arms, still holding your head.

He was expecting you to wake up, things like that happened all the time, and he was scared that if he let you go you would drown.

His tears hit the water, and he hugged you ever so gently.

“I.. I am so sorry…”

Through the clear water he could see the ground move, the moss coming towards you and it carefully encircled you.

Giles let you go, and you were taken under the water, down to the lakebed where the moss called you its friend.

It took shape, keeping your face in a peaceful like state as it covered you, your face the only thing that could be made out.

“May Hades looked over them, keep them safe.” Chiron said.

“To hell with him!” Giles yelled.

He turned around, making his way back towards the shore.

The ground trembled, unamused with his outburst.

“To hell with all the gods! If they actually dealt with their own issues non of this would have happened! Innocent children wouldn’t have died in their name! (Y/N) would still be alive!”

The ground trembled, the thunder roared ahead.

Giles dried his hands on the blanket, wrapping it around himself while the hounds walked along the edge of the lake, whining.

“Unfortunately we have no control over these matters.”

Chiron reached into his pocket, pulling out the letter you gave him and handed it to Giles who took it.

“They asked me to give this to you, I’m sorry we couldn’t have changed things. The hounds will carry on followings you all, with no master their won’t return to the underworld.”

Chiton turned around and he began to leave.

“Why did it have to be them..?” Giles asked.

Chiron said nothing as he vanished from sight, and for the rest of the day they all sat there just staring into the calm water.

“We must get you all home…”

“Giles…” Buffy whispered.

“Now. Let’s go.”

They didn’t argue with him, the hounds took them back to the school, and Giles sent them all away as he made his way back inside.

He walked back to the library, everything looked as it was, back to normal, even the library.

He ran up the steps to find them sword gone, and he ran back down, rushing into his office to make sure that everything else was still there.

A sigh of relief left him when he was it was all there, including the sword that was originally missing, neatly presented on some of his shelves.

Walking to his desk, he sat down, opening the letter he was given so he could begin to read it.

‘Giles,

When you receive this letter it’ll be too late, we both know that. We knew what would happen when the day came, that I wouldn’t survive. The hellhounds will stay with you unless you send them away back to the underworld, but they’ll come if you call.

Please don’t tell the others that you knew, they would never forgive you and I don’t want to break you all apart, you need each other, that’s important. You had each other before I came, you’ll have each other after I leave.

I wasn’t completely honest with you, and for that I am really sorry. When I first came to Sunnydale I knew I wasn’t going to leave, I already knew I was fated to pass here, which is why I tried to keep you all away. I never wanted to hurt anybody, and I never imaged how important you would all become to me.

I never knew what it was like to have a real family, one that loved me aside from my mother. I never had friends, and I didn’t have a father who was very interested in me or what I did, or even cared about me the way you cared.

I will forever be grateful for that, I’ll never forget the lessons you taught me, even the boring ass ones (put a dollar in the jar for me). If I could choose who I wanted my father to be, I would choose you Giles, I wish I could’ve had you as a father instead, but this was my fate, foretold, set in stone.

I love you, I love all of you, and I wish you all nothing but the best.’

Hand shaking, Giles set the letter down, running a hand down his face to wipe the tears so they wouldn’t smudge the ink and ruin your messy handwriting.

Reaching for his glasses neatly placed on the desk, he picked them up, and he stood up, taking the letter he folded it back up, placing it under the your sword.

Waking to the bookshelves, he placed a dollar in the jar with your name on, letting out a tear laugh.

“Still swearing.. even after death… I expect nothing less…” he whispered.

You were chalked down as a missing person due to the strange happenings of Sunnydale, people forgot about you.

All aside from the four who knew you the most, their hellhounds serving as a painful reminder of you.

All your books and scrolls were passed down to Giles, added to his own personal library, and they still carried the daggers you made them despite the fact the monsters were gone.

As the months slipped by it become apparent how quiet everything was before you, it was a horrible silence nobody could bare but they had to walk through.

Once a week they would take a trip to that lake and talk to you about what they had been doing, updating you on their lives.

The three other teenagers were slowly recovering, but Giles was still taking it rather hard, he loved you like his own flesh and blood.

Everytime he looked at your reports, your sword, Rig and Oris, it was like you were still there, but the decorations sat there as a dusty reminder for him.

Eventually because of students he had all of it moved by Hermes to his home, set up in that little corner that you would always come running from.

Sometimes he would sit and stare at the shadows, hoping you would come tumbling through them.

Tonight was no different, he was sat in the library, staring into the darkest corner.

“Staring won’t bring the dead back, believe me, many people have tried.” A voice spoke.

Giles reached for his dagger.

“It’s useless, won’t even touch me.”

“Who are you?” Giles asked.

The two hounds stood up, standing next to Giles as they snarled and growled.

“I’m betrayed by my own hellhounds, I suppose that says a lot doesn’t it?”

“Hades…”

The man stepped out from where he was hiding and Giles stood up.

“How dare you step foot in here…” Giles said lowly.

“How dare I? You’re the brave soul who’s been cursing out us gods as if you have a death wish, I’m surprised my brother hasn’t zapped you down yet.”

“What do you want?” Giles snapped.

The hellhounds at his feet circled him in a protective manner.

“I came to speak to you my child.”

“(Y/N) was not your child.”

“Yes there were! They were my flesh and blood!”

Giles slammed his hand on the table, knocking his cup of tea over, shattering the cup.

“No they were not! Yes, you may have helped bring them into this world, but it was you that took them out of it. That is all you did, you were no father to them!”

Giles took his glasses off, setting them down.

“Where were you when they lost their mother?! Their best friend?! When they had monsters hunting them down all over the place?! Where we you when they were sent here to die?! Did you even try to find a way to save them?! Because I did! I tried everything to find a way to save them!”

Hades stood there.

“I cleaned them up after every bloody fight! I cooked them food when I found out all they were eating was takeout! I took them to see the penguins because they had never been!”

Giles took a few deep breaths.

“Where were you when they were plagued by nightmares and couldn’t sleep? Were you sat there all night holding their hand? No. Were you there when they got their very first A grade? No. You handed them the sword that they used to pierce a hole right through their own stomach to save the world.”

Clenching his jaw, Giles clenched his fists to calm himself down, drawing small droplets of blood.

He knew he couldn’t survive a fight with a god, but it didn’t mean he didn’t want to try.

“You were not their father, a father doesn’t send his own child to die, a father doesn’t sit there and watch his own child die. I am (Y/N)s father, I will always be their father.”

Hades hummed a little, walking a few steps closer.

Giles’ heart raced in his chest, maybe screaming at a god wasn’t the best way to go about things, and it was a sure way to get himself killed.

“You’re right, maybe I’m not so much of a great father, but that’s how it has to be.”

Hades clasped his hands behind his back.

“I know you loved my child, in fact, I’m glad you do. I’m glad they found somebody to love them as their own flesh and blood, to help them grow, truly be happy.” Hades said.

Giles furrowed his brows.

“You’re right, I did give them the very sword that killed them, but I didn’t do it to push (Y/N) into using it on themselves, i did it because it was the only way.”

“To save the world because you wouldn’t?” Giles scoffed.

Hades chuckled, shaking his head.

“No, to save them.”

Hades walked over, standing on the other end of the table, and he set a book down on the table.

“The sword absorbs the essence of whatever it kills, that’s what the metal does, how it’s forged. But this one is slightly different. Whatever goes in, can come out.”

“What?”

“I instructed (Y/N) not to use the sword on the monsters, use it once, and only once. And they did. Their soul is the only thing inside of it. The prophecy was that their soul was supposed to go to Tartarus, and I didn’t want that, so I found a way around it.”

Giles looked at the god.

“You.. you’ve known this whole time…”

“I had to be sure that to would take care of them, that you truest did have a fathers love for (Y/N), and you do. Consider this a gift, a thank you for what you’ve done, from the god, to you.”

Hades pushed the book over and Giles picked it up.

“The.. the lake…”

“Preserves the body of all those buried, which means as far as death goes, (Y/N) is untouched by it, will be exactly the same.”

Hades turned around, making his way back towards the shadows.

“The monsters will come back if you bring (Y/N) back, and if you do bring them back I expect you to take on the role as their father Mr Giles.”

With that, Hades left and Giles stared at the book before grabbing his glasses so he could go through it.

The dead never stayed dead in Sunnydale, and he wasn’t going to let that happen to you.

So, Giles took care in gathering everything he needed, which took a lot longer than he had hoped, it wasn’t easy stuff to find.

But once he had it all, he sat in front of the sword in his office, the only thing that couldn’t have been moved, and he began to do exactly as the book told him.

There was a small flash around the sword, and he prayed it had worked.

The book explained that after the ritual, he wouldn’t be able to return to the lake until after you left, otherwise it would claim him in your place.

If you wanted to return you would, if not he would have to live with the fact he would never know if it worked or not.

So, he waited, his head always snapped to the door when it opened.

A few days went past, and he sighed heavily, looking at the book.

“Maybe I did something wrong…” he mumbled.

He had been reading through it for days, trying to figure out if something went wrong, maybe the god had lied to him, he had no idea.

Running a hand down his face, and closed the book, heading to his office.

The hounds followed him, and they sat watching him as always, their ears flicking a little as they both turned to the door.

“I’ll be with you in one moment!” He called.

The hounds ran out of the room, and he frowned, following them out.

As he looked around the corner, the sight alone was enough to make him take a few steps back.

You were sat on the floor, laughing and hugging your beloved hellhounds tightly.

You pushed the hounds off, and you smiled up at him.

“You look older than normal.”

Giles slowly walked over, kneeling in front of you, reaching out he touched your shoulder.

He was convinced you were maybe a ghost, messing with him, but when his hand came into contact with your shoulder he knew it had worked.

Taking your shoulder he pulled you in for a hug, and you groaned in pain.

“I.. I’m so sorry…”

He quickly let go.

You smiled warmly, shaking your head, hand on your side.

“It’s okay, I.. I guess being put in a permanent state means wounds don’t heal all that good..”

Sitting on your knees, you leant forward, gently hugging him, and he hugged you back, gentle this time as not to hurt you again.

“I.. I’m so sorry…” he whispered.

You shook your head.

“No… im sorry Giles I.. I I’m just so sorry…” you sobbed.

He gently shushed you, running a hand up and down your back.

After a few minutes you pulled away, sniffling a little.

“You buried me in my jacket…”

“I thought you would want it no matter where you went.” He smiled.

Giles wiped your tears with the sleeve of his blazer.

“The monsters…”

Giles smiled, taking your hand.

“We will face them together. You came to Sunnydale alone, but you’re not alone anymore (Y/N), we’re here for you, I am here for you, by your side. It’s your fate to be here.”

You hugged him again.

Giles hugged you back.

“I’m glad you’re back…” he whispered.

“Me too…”

You two enjoyed the peace.

“However you do owe me a dollar.”

You laughed, pulling away as you winced in pain, then you grinned at him a little.

“I suppose I should tell the others.”

“What will you tell them?” You asked.

Giles stood up, helping you to your feet and he sat you down in a chair, kissing the top of your head and he took a step away.

“I’ll tell them that my rather reckless, impulsive, and now apparently unofficially adopted demigod teenager has returned.”

Giles sat on the table, looking down at you.

“I’m your teenager now huh?”

“Well I seem to just keep adopting troubled teenagers, what’s one more to that list Hm?”

“I’m more trouble?”

He chuckled, nodding his head.

“Yes, you are, but I still love you even if you are the most troublesome of the bunch.”

You beamed proudly at him and yawned loudly, rested your head on the table.

He got off it, folding his scarf he placed it under your head, then he covered you with his blazer.

“Get some rest, I’ll be right here.”

He smiled as you nodded half asleep already.

He had his work cut out for him, but for now everything felt right, everything felt as it were supposed to be.

You were back where you were supposed to be, and when you were fully healed and well rested, you were going to be in a world of trouble for the stunt you pulled. But for now, Giles was just happy to have his family back.

Walking back to his office, he looked at the scrap of paper that had fallen out of the book that hades gave him.

The finely part of your prophecy.

‘The underworld child will die once, and will rise again, entrusted to a new home where they will stay.’

#buffy the vampire slayer imagine #buffy the vampire slayer #Buffy the vampire slayer x reader #buffy the vampire slayer x you #Rupert Giles #Rupert Giles x reader #Rupert Giles x you #Rupert Giles imagine

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safety-writes-noms · 8 months

Note

Hi hello it's me again, heard you wanted asks-

I was wondering if you had any more thoughts on spider noir? I'm sorry I'm just really obsessed with him hshsh

Have a great day/or night!

I got you covered! i actually love asks so send as many as you want

vore below cut !!

noir has a small tendency to put people in his over coat’s pockets. His reasoning is something like ‘if they’re not made to hold my friends, then why are they there,’ and he sort of uses it for both emergency situations (carrying around civilians) and casual. But when he can’t, (and he’d actually rather not use his pockets since it’s a lot more dangerous during a fight,) he’ll give the person a quick heads up and nom them before they can fully process what he just said and start panicking.

He understands that it’s scary, genuinely terrifying to a person who doesn’t know what’s going on or happening. He tries his best so that he doesn’t have to nom the person, but ultimately it’s the safest option, if not the most panic inducing one. He hates being the one to cause people’s fear, but he’d rather the person be alive and hate him forever than be dead. Besides, most people calm down a little when he finds an opportunity to tell them that no, they’re not dying, and yes, this is completely safe. Of course that can be a little difficult when you’re scrapping with multidimensional monsters. Or just the normal villains from his world.

(I'm switching over to my phone rn so pls excuse any spelling errors 😭)

Anyways, he always feels incredibly guilty when he has to get someone to safety via transportation to his stomach and he doesn't have the time to explain that what he's doing is for their benefit. It makes him feel like a monster :(

Basically, while he's in the middle of a fight, he has to let the person he's tucked away stew in the assumption that he tried to kill them when they looked to him for safety until he manages to explain things.

But when he does receive the green light in a safe and casual situation (hanging out together, etc) it makes him feel really warm. He sees it as the person trusting him enough to let him welcome them into the deepest parts of himself. Literally. And in turn, he becomes fiercely protective over them. He has that person's trust -- it'll be a cold day in hell if he betrays it or lets them be injured in any way.

he's not one to be impatient if someone is hesitating with the prospect of noms (again, in a safe situation. if he's in the middle of a dangerous one he can't afford to let them take their time no matter how much he wishes he could) and is completely understanding. Noir would actually prefer for you to take as much time as you need, content with letting you move at your own pace. you absolutely know this sweetheart has a whole bunch of safewords or actions (two taps for okay, one tap for stop, three for wait, etc) and makes sure you know them too. Your comfort is incredibly important to him.

he's one of those preds that let you wait in his mouth for however long you want, just in case you decide to change your mind. Him trying to keep his breathing soft and slow so it doesn't alarm or frighten you in any way, making sure his tongue isn't moving too much underneath you, inwardly wondering if you're fine with your clothes getting a little soaked from his saliva. especially if it's your first time. he always feels so happy that you trust him enough with your first ever experience with noms and is determined to make sure it goes well.

then he'll be slow and careful as he tilts his head back and let's you slide down into his tummy as gently as he can.

#extreme cuddling #s: spidervores #sw answers asks #spidervores #sfw vore #nonsexual vore

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girlwiththepapatattoo · 8 months

Text

The Unlikely Similarities Between Kittens and Vampires, Chapter 8

Warnings: canon typical violence alluded to, Astarion being himself, Halsin doing a meddle

Summary: Banter and bathing and bear-matchmaking, oh my!

Notes: I love all these idiots. I hope you enjoy, lemme know what you think! <3

Read on ao3 here!

Chapters: 1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7

“All right, Fangs, here’s one: best way to kill a goblin?” Karlach asks the vampire on Sable’s left.

“My dearest meat shield,” he says fondly, shooting her a grin, “do you mean the most efficient way, or the most fun? Because there’s a rather large difference.”

The large tiefling woman cackles at what Astarion calls her, not offended in the slightest. “The most fun of course! Personally, that time that I picked one up and beat another to death with him was great!”

“Ha! That was a show indeed. I think for me, my favorite was that time I was invisible, picked one goblin’s pocket of her gold, and put it into her friend’s. They ended up killing each other!” He laughs at the memory, wiping a tear of mirth from his eye.

“Ohhhh yeah! That was a bloody good one!” she crows.

“Ugh,” Wyll says emphatically from behind.

Sable is trying not to laugh, biting her cheek as they all walk through the forest. They should arrive back to the Grove in a matter of hours, and everyone was looking forward to getting off their feet for the night.

“Oh, loosen up!” Karlach says to the Blade. “Woulda thought you’d be the first one up for killin’ gobbos.”

“I am,” he replies, crossing his arms with a frown. “But there’s a difference between killing them to keep people safe, and killing them to have fun.”

“Yes, you’re right,” Astarion says primly, and almost everyone blinks at him in surprise. “One of them is far more boring.”

“Ah,” Wyll says tiredly as Karlach laughs and Gale hides a snort behind his hand. “I should have suspected.”

Sable couldn’t help the grin that tugs at her lips. She wasn’t particularly enraptured by the talk of past violence, but she did enjoy the banter between everyone.

Even if not all of them felt much the same way.

“Must we engage in this inane babble?” Lae’zel grumbles. “If there are still enemies around, they will hear us coming a mile away.”

“I assume the githyanki don’t care much about morale, do they?” Shadowheart quips from two people away.

“We are uplifted from earning glory in Vlaakith’s name. We have no need for this endless prattle.”

“Well, only one of us here is githyanki, Lae’zel. After a victory, we do like to let ourselves unwind,” Gale says agreeably.

Lae’zel just scowls at him and turns her head away. The wizard shrugs at the cleric, who smiles almost grimly and shakes her head.

The others continue to banter amongst themselves, and Sable listens contently. The day is beautiful, a soft breeze caressing her face and making her sigh, the scents of the woods calming her.

And Astarion is walking by her side. Really, a perfect day.

“So,” he says softly, looking down to her. “Now that we don’t have anything to kill in the next little while…what’s the first thing you’re going to do once we’re free for the night?”

“A bath, for sure,” she replies emphatically. She gently touches her hair and makes a face. “It’s going to take three washes to get all the blood out of my hair. How about you?”

“The very same! Gods,” he utters, his nose wrinkling, “you’ve no idea how disgusting everyone smells when your senses are heightened.” He pauses, then chuckles. “Well, actually, you might in particular, kitten.”

Sable shrugs. “Honestly, when I’m in animal form…well, it’s hard to explain. Animal senses are so different from ours that what smells bad to us might not smell bad to them.”

“Really? So if you were to kitten up right now, we wouldn’t smell bad to you?” he asks, surprised.

“Not really. Strong, yeah, but not offensive.”

He blinks, thinking about it as he ducks under a low hanging branch. “Well, I’ll leave you to it. I wouldn’t want to smell this group any more strongly, thank you.”

Sable chuckles in response.

“Hey soldier!” Karlach calls over. “What do you say we take tomorrow to rest up a bit at the Grove? The past week’s been a lot and I’m sure we could all use the break.”

“And we have weapon and armor repairs to do,” Wyll adds thoughtfully.

Sable blinks over at them. “I…I mean, of course we can, but why are you asking me?” she asks in confusion.

“Well, you’ve been leading us this far,” Gale says thoughtfully.

The younger druid’s jaw drops. “I’ve been what now?!”

Astarion bursts out laughing at the completely dumbfounded shock on her face.

“Did you think we’re following you for fun?” Shadowheart asks, her voice amused.

“You’re a good leader, Sable,” Wyll assures her gently. “Truly. Not that I’d want you in this situation if there was a way to prevent it, but I think we’re all happy it’s you here.”

Lae’zel rolls her eyes a bit. “You have been…adequate.”

“High praise, from you,” Gale teases, earning himself a glare.

“Seriously, soldier, you’re like the glue that holds this group of assholes together!” Karlach says happily.

Sable’s face is beet red, and Astarion expects her to shape-change any moment now. But to his surprise…she doesn’t. Instead, she looks around at everyone, meeting his eyes last. He gives her a surprisingly fond smile and simply nods to her. She takes a deep breath, and her shoulders square off. “Thank you, everyone. I…I’m just trying my best. But if you all think that I’m doing well…” She grins faintly. “I won’t argue. Yes, we’ll take tomorrow to rest. I’ll have mending up and ready, so anyone with minor repairs to do can bring them to me.”

“I can help with that as well,” Halsin offers, and she nods to him.

“I’m rather good with a needle and thread,” Astarion adds. “So long as your gear is clean when you bring it over, I’ll sew up any rips and tears.”

The others all offer their help with different things as well, and Sable’s heart warms. This rag-tag group is really starting to come together.

//////////////////////////////////////////////

Halsin is reunited with the druids, the situation with Kagha is diffused, and the ritual to close off the Grove has been halted. The tieflings are over the moon in joy that their road to Baldur’s Gate should be safe now, and there is to be a celebration that night. Sable’s not one for parties, normally, but seeing everyone letting their guards down and being at ease would be nice.

But for now, it’s time for a bath.

Halsin stops her with a gentle hand on her arm before she could move off to the small, communal bathhouse, however. “Grab your bathing things and follow me,” he murmurs. “I have someplace I think you’ll like.”

She blinks, but follows him. He leads her down a shaded path that opens up into a fairly big, well hidden cave. At the back of the cave is what looks like a large pool of water that’s gently steaming. “Is that…?”

“It is. A small hot spring,” Halsin says fondly. “I’ve spent many nights soaking away in here. Use it at your leisure. All I ask is that you wash up outside the water.”

“Of course,” she assures him, and smiles to him gratefully. “Thank you, Halsin. This is perfect.”

He smiles and gives her shoulder a gentle squeeze, before turning and making his way back.

Sable immediately undresses, dipping a hand into the water to test the temperature. She can’t help the soft sigh at feeling the perfect amount of warmth enveloping her skin, like wrapping a warmed blanket around yourself after just coming in out of the cold. She fills her bucket and sets to washing up, deliriously happy to be finally cleansing the grime and gore from her skin.

She’s halfway through her second hair wash when the sound of a boot on stone makes her head snap up. Her gaze finds Astarion, standing there with his eyes wide and his mouth open in surprise. They stare at each other for a solid ten seconds, before the vampire abruptly spins around. “I…I am so sorry, darling, I–that is–Halsin mentioned this place, but he neglected to tell me it was occupied!”

She notices that he has his own bucket in hand, and makes a mental note to figure out whether she wants to thank the huge druid or hit him. “I-It’s okay, Astarion, really, I–”

“No, it’s not okay,” he says over his shoulder, and the vehemence in his voice makes her pause, surprised. He huffs, rubbing the back of his neck. “If it were anyone else, I wouldn’t think twice of some teasing, maybe trying to cop a view. But…but I don’t want that with you. If I join your bath, it’s because you’ve asked me to, or I’ve asked you and you said yes. Not…not like this.”

A million thoughts race through her mind. It’s curious to her that he said ‘and you said yes’ about him asking her, but not ‘and I said yes’ about her asking him. Does that mean that it’s obvious he’d say yes? Or does that mean he thinks he wouldn’t have the opportunity to refuse?

But any further thinking about that is cut off as a rogue trail of soap makes itself a home in her eye.

“Ow, fuck shit dammit ow!” she hisses, eyes squeezing shut and patting around blindly for her bucket.

“Easy, darling, easy, hold still,” his voice says, suddenly closer to her. Two fingers gently tilt her chin up, and water gently pours over her eyes, cleaning the suds away. “Open for me, hm?”

She can’t help the flush that rises to her cheeks. His voice is low and soothing, and though she’s not sure he meant it to be, it was doing…things…to her lower belly. But obediently, she opens her eyes, brow furrowing as a lingering sting pierces her eye. But it fades quickly, and she meets Astarion’s amused gaze with a faint smile. “Thank you.”

“Of course, kitten. I’ll just…head off then, until you’re done.” He goes to stand, but she catches his wrist gently, and he looks to her in surprise.

She’s not looking at him, that sweet blush driving him faintly mad. “You…look, I…I wanted to soak for a while–the water’s naturally warm, you see–but I don’t want to make you wait for too long. If you…if you want to bathe now, we can…keep each other company while we soak. A-And I promise I won’t look.”

He stares at her in surprise. She still wants him, still desires him–he can tell by the way her pupils widen, by the heat in her face. But she’s offering…what? Non-sexual intimacy?

When was the last time anyone offered him something like that? He can’t remember.

And so he softens, and he smiles, and he leans forward and impulsively brushes a kiss over her forehead. “I think I’d like that, my sweet kitten,” he says, and his tone is one she hasn’t heard before. Soft, gentle, grateful. She smiles helplessly.

It’s that exact moment when she knows, when the feelings click into place: she’s fallen for this man. Hard.

Well…shit.

“But you know,” he says with a smirk as he moves behind her, beginning to strip, unable to resist teasing now that he knows he’s wanted here. “I don’t think I’d mind if it was you doing the peeking.”

WELL SHIT.

#baldur's gate 3 #astarion #astarion x tav #bg3 astarion #my writing

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silverynight · 1 year

Text

The bunny from the Red light District

<----Previous

Part III

"I'm not... sure," Tanjirou mumbles, cheeks turning bright red. The one with the scars on his chest looks like he's getting desperate. But the young woman keeps smiling at him as she puts one hand over his shoulder.

"We just want to protect you," she insists, eyes sincere.

"Do you really want to stay here for the rest of your life?" The man almost growls, startling Tanjirou. Although he looks like he regrets being so rude.

"Sanemi..."

"You can't pay off my debt, it's–"

The one called Sanemi, snorts and shows him something he takes out from his pockets. Tanjirou almost gasps, he's never seen so much money together in his life.

"You shouldn't... You don't have to–"

"We will free you," Sanemi grins.

***

Tanjirou is still not sure if things just got better or worse, but now the three of them are on their way to see Nezuko. He's a little bit nervous.

At first, Nezuko looks at the newcomers with suspicion, but there's something that changes in her expression after the woman called Shinobu, explains to her about the hashira and what they do.

"We try to protect people as much as we can, especially when the police can't do it. They need evidence, we do not. I'm not saying that what are we doing is legal or good, but you have to believe me when I say that we want nothing more than to make your brother happy and give him everything he wants."

Suddenly, Tanjirou looks confused at her because she's making it sound like she's asking Nezuko's permission for something...

Nezuko nods, although reluctantly.

"We are currently trying to investigate a criminal named Muzan," Sanemi adds, prompting both siblings to shiver at the mention.

They know who that man is.

Even though Nezuko looks relaxed in their presence, there's still something in her eyes...

"I'm not going to make this easy for you," she warns them, confusing Tanjirou even more.

"We know," Shinobu chuckles as Sanemi rolls her eyes.

"What kind of work I'll be doing for you?" Tanjirou decides to finally cut in; even though he's not sure about his choice, there's no turning back now, he owes them.

"Honestly, whatever you want as long as you use the bunny outfit the whole day and let us–"

Shinobu elbows Sanemi before he can finish; she looks a little bit irritated.

"Just keep the house clean and if you want to cook that'd be really helpful, but you don't have to. We... go out a lot, but there's always someone in the house to keep you two safe since we're nine. Also, you can wear whatever makes you feel comfortable."

That sounds too good to be true, although Tanjirou decides to believe them.

"When do you want us to move in with you?"

"Right now," Sanemi says without hesitation.

"Oh... okay."

***

At first Tanjirou is tense, wondering if he made a mistake and put his sister in danger, but then they reach the place. The huge house that screams luxury and power and yet it looks peaceful somehow.

New people introduce themselves to them; there's a short young man with beautiful and long dark hair that hugs Tanjirou and nuzzles his cheeks almost affectionately, there's a man with a serpent around his neck that looks at him intensely and then he turns his head away with a slight blush on his cheeks. And another one who takes him in his arms and starts gently running his fingers through Tanjirou's face. He's even taller than Ten–Uzui.

He should use their last names from now on, he's no longer in the place he works... Well, the place he used to work at.

After they both check their respective rooms, Tanjirou walks into Nezuko's only to find her completely asleep on her bed; he's glad because it means she's started to actually trust them.

Maybe he should do the same.

When he returns into the living room to look for any of them and ask what they want him to do first, he realizes they all are waiting for him.

Tanjirou is not going to deny he finds that a little bit intimidating at first. There are nine people (the hashira) sitting on their knees in front of him.

He does the same almost immediately.

"Where do you want me to start?"

"Actually, you can go get some rest," Tomioka mumbles, staring at him intensely (they all doing the same, except for Himejima). Tanjirou doesn't understand why.

"We'll make dinner for you and your sister!" Kanroji says then, looking really pleased for some reason.

"You don't have to!"

"We want to," Himejima assures him.

"Thank you!" He mumbles, feeling his cheeks turning slightly pink. Tanjirou is not really used to being taken care of like that.

"You don't have to worry about anything, Tanjirou," Kocho smiles at him sincerely.

"We'll protect you from now on," Uzui promises him, but the others look at him like he's speaking for everyone in the room.

Tanjirou doesn't understand, he'd like to ask them why, but perhaps it's better not to.

Besides, he still worries about a lot of things, like Akaza and Muzan.

He just hopes that Akaza forgets about him soon, he would hate to bring trouble into other people's lives.

Why is he there exactly? Why did they pay off his debt? He'd like to know the answers, but he decides to remain silent instead.

***

Next--->

Patreon

#kny #kimetsu no yaiba #demon slayer #tanjiro kamado #sanemi shinazugawa #shinobu kochou #mitsuri kanroji #kyojuro rengoku #giyu tomioka #gyomei himejima #muichiro tokito #obanai iguro #tengen uzui #modern au

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happyimagines · 2 years

Text

MacGyver: Mac/Reader

This wasn't requested, but I hope you like it!

My breathing grew more and more ragged as I ran after the others. Mac and Jac were ahead of me as we had placed EMPS to stop a shipment of weapons. Riley was in our ears feeding us directions to get out as safely as we could.

“Next left,” She told us through the comms.

The three of us followed her directions until we came to a door that had an electronic keypad. The building wasn’t as new as others so it took some extra time for her to crack the code. As we waited, I leadned against a wall to steady myself as black dots began swimming into vision. My knees gave out, but I caught myself, except Mac and Jack noticed. They turned to look at me.

“You were shot?” Mac rushed to my side and gently lifted my shirt that was now sticky with blood.

“Yep,” I gritted my teeth as he checked the wound.

“I think it went through, so that’s a good thing.” I tried to lighten the situation.

“Riley, we need the door open now! (Y/N) was shot!” Mac said, the concern in his voice was heavy. I cried out in pain as Mac put an arm around me, keeping me upright.

There was a click and Riley gave us more directions.

“We have exfil ready.” Mattie told us.

My knees gave out, and if Mac wasn’t holding me, I would’ve hit the ground and made myself a sitting duck.

“Almost there,” Mac told me.

“I’m trying,” I tried moving but everything felt like jelly and going blurry.

24 hours before.

I closed my car door and smiled as Mac and Bozer walked towards me.

“Good morning,” I greeted them.

“Hey (Y/N),” Boze walked past me with a smile leaving me with MacGyver.

“Hi,” I held out my hand to him and he smiled. He pilled out my wallet from his pocket it and placed it in my hand.

“I found it in the living room,” He told me. I sighed with relief.

“Thank you. I swear I was losing my mind until you texted me.” I glanced at the doors for Phoenix and saw Bozer through the doors. “What did Bozer say?”

“He actually found out a while ago.” Mac laughed. I covered my face feeling it growing hot with embarrassment. “It makes sense considering how long he and Leann were dating.”

“That probably means that Mattie knows.” My voice muffled behind my hands.

Mac took my hands and moved them from my face. There was a smile on his face and he leaned in and kissed me. I smiled and kissed him back, my troubles temporarily disappearing. Mac pulled away and groaned when he heard his phone go off.

“I think we need to go inside,” He breathed.

“We should,” I quickly kissed him once more before letting go of his hands and going in.

Our mission seemed simple enough. And it was because of that that told me it was going to be anything but. Someone had decided that they were going to double-cross the sellers and jack up the price per weapon. That mean more people with weapons were there for the buy. The aliases that we had created to get us into the buy-in held up for extra time until the double-cross happened. Then everything went to hell. By that time, the EMPs had been planted but we needed to get out before the building that ran on electricity wasn’t functioning.

I wasn’t sure as to what happened but I woke up every now and then. Each time I did, I saw MacGyver.

There was beeping, and there was chatter that sounded far away. I took a deep breath and opened my eyes to see a hospital room. And Mattie, sitting in a bed next to my chair. I looked past her and

“Hey, we were waiting for you to wake up,” Mattie explained nodding to Mac who was in another chair slumped over. I opened my mouth and coughed, waking Mac.

“Here,” Mattie put a straw near my mouth prompting me to take a sip. “Mac, how about you get cleaned up and let the others know (Y/N) is awake, I’ll stay with them. I think the nurses will want to go a check-up.” She told him.

I looked at him and gave him a slight nod to tell him I was okay. Or at least as okay as I could be.

Once the nurses had come and gone, I was left with Mattie. Everyone else had also gone home to get changed and freshen up.

“Mac wouldn’t leave your side.” Mattie had told me.

“You wouldn’t either,” I pointed out. Mattie gave me a look and I took another long sip of water from my glass.

“I have to admit, you guys managed to keep it hidden for a while.”

“Did you find out before or after Bozer?” I asked. She tilted her head. “Before then.”

“Well, I’m happy for you two. And you of all people should’ve told me (Y/N), how long have we known each other?”

“A while, since I was a kid. I’m sorry.” I leaned back against the pillow.

There was a knock on the door, and we both looked over to see MacGyver. I smiled at him, and Mattie patted my leg. She stood up and went to leave. As she did, she said something to Mac that I couldn’t hear. He nodded and she left, leaving us together.

“Hey,” I smiled at her.

“Hey, how’re you doing?” He made his way over to the bed.

“I’m okay, Mattie knew before Bozer, so I’m not sure how he’ll feel about that. She also told me that you wouldn’t leave my side.” My voice soft.

“I didn’t want to. They brought you to surgery right away once we got here.”

“You know what’ll make me feel better?” I asked smiling.

Mac smiled and cupped my face before kissing me. This is going to be fast recovery.

#MacGyver imagines #MacGyver oneshots #angus macgyver imagines #Angus Macgyver oneshots #MacGyver x reader #secret dating is my favourite trope

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mrsparker3696 · 2 years

Text

Peter parker x reader- Baga-boo and silvy pt.1

**************************************

You finely landed on the ground, straightened your suit and looking around you for any sign from him.

"Looking for someone?"

Your head shoots back, faster than a falling star as a smile curved under your mask.

Spiderman stood there, right in front of you with his hands on his hips and his head titled to the side.

Without even answering, you fly up, lifting your legs off the ground and flying away, hearing him yell your name but you just kept flying.

You wished you could just take that stupid mask off and feel the wind hit your face, the air blow your hair back, just feel truly free.

But you had enemies and enough people you put in danger without revealing yourself.

As soon as you reached the usual building, you hovered on top before gently dropping.

"Jesus, you have to stop doing that" spiderman came not longer after you, panting and leaning on his knees.

"I like keeping you on your toes" you shrugged.

Spiderman finely got his breath straight he took a step closer, holding your waist and pulling you flat against his chest "hi silvy"

"Hi baga-boo" you smiled, lifting your sliver mask just above your nose before doing the same to him, revealing his special smile, the one he only wore in specific moments.

"You wanna do it cheesy style, don't you"

He bit his lip and nodded, causing you to laugh and fly up, and back a few meters, landing back on the floor and running into his arms "oh baga-boo!!"

"Silvy!" He lifted you up wrapping one hand around your waist and with the other holding your thighs that were wrapped around his torso.

Your hands were around his neck rubbing up and down "I missed you baga-boo" you whispered leaning closer to him so your lips are almost touching.

"I missed you too silvy" he whispered back, finely pressing his lips to yours.

And like every time you kissed him, your whole body warmed up.

Sparkles, fireworks, tingles, call it whatever you like, but it was there.

You shoved your fingers under his mask, feeling his soft hair and tugging on it lightly that you knew drove him crazy. And like you expected, he squeezed your waist gently and moaned quietly into your mouth.

"I can hear your enjoying this, huh bug boy?" You mumbled against his mouth tugging again, hearing him moan again, sending vibrations through your body "you like it when I pull your hair?" You teased as you pulled back, but he just followed your lips and kissed you again "God yes" was the only thing that left his throat

He didn't really care right now about your teasing or sexual comments.

He just missed you so so bad and he wanted to kiss you.

When he finely was satisfied for now, he slowly pulled back, rubbing his nose with yours "I missed your lips"

Your face lightened up in light pink and your heart beated just a bit faster.

"We saw eachother three days ago"

"Three days too long"

You shook your head and chuckled, pecking his lips one more time before getting off his arms "so how 'bout date night until K.A.R.E.N cockblock us?"

He quickly nodded "delmar's?"

"Oh ho, my favorite superheroes" Mr. Delmar grinned as you and spiderman walked into his store.

It's started a few weeks ago, when you saved his shop from a rubbery. Since then, it was your favorite place to eat.

"Hi Mr. Delmar, how are you?" Spiderman waved at him, leaning at the counter.

"I'm good, son. So the usual for you and the lady?" He asked, nudging his head toward you, holding murf.

"Uh, yeah, and um, two bags of the strawberry gummy" he pointed and took a 10 dollar out of his pocket.

"Hi Mr. Delmar, how was your day" you walked to them, holding your boyfriend's arm.

"Good, good" he smiled at you. "You two are very cute, you know" he winked and handed you a clear bag "have a great night. Stay safe!"

You waved at him and wished him good night as well when you got out of the store back to the roof top.

You sat next to him, your right leg on his left thigh as he ran his thumb on your suit as you two munched the sandwiches.

"So anything good happened today?" He asked looking at you.

"Not really... same jerk ass kid who tease me, but I had this chemistry test that I aced. Thanks to you" you pecked his lips as a thank you "and tomorrow I have a big math test" you finished taking the last bute from your food.

"You want me to teach this kid a lesson? I could-"

"Baga-boo I'm not letting you kick some random kid's ass just because he's immature" you laughed taking his hand in yours.

"What?! He's annoying and bugging my girl. It my responsibility as your superhero/boyfriend to kick his ass"

You shook your head.

He always had a thing with protecting you, even though your powers.

All since the war with Tony and Steve.

"How was your day bug?"

Spiderman lifted his eyes from his lap to stare at the city in front of him, humming when your free hand moved to rubbing up and down from his head to his back "it was alright, like every day"

You nodded, eyes lighting up when an idea came up your mind "want me to make it a better day?"

He titled his head and shrugged "you're here with me, its already better"

You groaned dramatically dropping your head back "Jesus, baga-boo let me flirt with you!!"

He felt like he's on fire.

It's not the first time you said something like that, but no matter how many times you'll do it, he'll feel embarrassed.

You climbed to his lap, placing your palms on the side of his neck rubbing your thumbs on the exposed skin "so you wanna kiss me or not?"

So he did, gosh he wanted to so so bad.

But in the second he leaned, his spidey senses alarted him.

"Shit"

You frowned "what is it?"

"There's a rubbery in the local bank" he sighed, repeating what the voice in his suit just said.

You kissed his nose then both of His cheeks then finally his lips "let's go kick their ass, yeah?"

-------

After you and spiderman took care of the rubbery, he helped you with your math.

You stayed even after, doing nothing.

Well, if you consider heavily making out on the roof nothing.

so around midnight, you came home to the same routine.

You stood in front of your mother, wearing shorts and a bra, with hands in the air, twirling around.

"Mom i promise mom, I'm okay. And bug, I mean, spiderman helped me, see?" You pointed at your ribcage, showing her where he stitched your skin. "I promise I'm okay"

After you reassured her she sighed and nodded "Alright. Now, tell me, how was your day?" She asked as she sat on the couch, looking at you with a smirk.

You put on a shirt before sitting next to her, pulling your knees up to hug them close to your chest while a stupid smile tugged your lips.

"It was okay"

Your mother raised an eyebrow, knowing that you're not lying but not telling her the whole truth. She moved her finger to the left side of your neck, flicking you there "your hickey says different"

Your faced turned in a shade of dark red, slapping your neck with your palm "shut up" you mumbled.

"Look, y/n, i know you, and I know you're careful but-" your mother started but you stopped her, knowing where this is going.

"But you should think about it. You're young and-"

"Y/n!"

"Sorry" you stopped.

"I just want you to be extra careful. Don't you think its a bit odd? You don't know him" she placed a comforting hand on your knee.

Your mother knew about your little romance with your partner.

But she didn't quite like it.

ou sighed and sat next to her, taking her hand in yours "mom im gonna ask you questions about dad and you're gonna answer me with a simple yes or no, alright?"

She rolled her eyes but nodded, waiting for you to start.

"When you met dad, he waited until the fifth date to kiss you, right?" She nodded.

"When dad was around did he made sure that you're comfortable with everything he's doing no matter what?" And she nodded again.

"Did dad kept you safe even if it meant that he'll get hurt?" She smiled softly and nodded.

"Did dad made you happy that you just felt you're the luckiest girl alive? Did dad helped you when you needed? Listen to you when you talked for hours? Comfort you after hard days? Made sure you're eating when nana and papa were at work?

Is dad your and America's hero?"

Your mom groaned lightly, knowing where you're taking this. "Y/n sweetie, what is your point?"

You squeezed her hand with a smile knowing that what you're gonna say will let her off you "spiderman to me is like what dad was for you. And I know, I know it's dangerous and I know that if something will happen to him it will hurt like a bitc- a lot" you quickly changed your language when your mom rised her eyebrows at you "but you met dad when he was in the military, right? It's basically the same!! And if I told you 20 years ago that dad is going to die after 13 years of relationship, he would leave and die would you do it again?" Your words were harsh and it hurt saying that. Because even if it been 7 years since his death, you still missed him and your mom still cried every once in a while in the middle of the night, thinking you can't hear her.

Your mom's sad smile showed up again as she nodded "of course"

"Spiderman makes me happy. He makes me feel special and safe and he helps me with school and he's listening to my endless talking and I know that it's weird that we don't actually know eachother or what we look like, but i know the real him. And he loves me for me and not the way I look!! Don't you want that for me?" You whined.

You won. Your mom didn't had anything to say against the boy you praised so much.

And you were right. Since you got close with spiderman, you smiled more, your grades jumped up and you were genuinely happier (even if that means that every once in a while you're coming home with a hickey or two), your relationship with spiderman is everything your mom wished for you.

She rised her hands in defeat "Alright, you won. No more reassure talking" she said. You crossed your arms over your chest and tilted your head and she let out a breathy laugh "I promise!"

You finely broke into a smile and jumped to hug her "thanks mom"

A short ring cut your sweet mom-daughter bonding moment short.

You looked at the table to see a picture of spiderman with the name "Baga-boo🕷🍑".

His masked lifted just above his nose and his tongue poking out of his cheesy grin.

You pulled away from your mom, looking at her before she nodded "go, answer your little perfect boyfriend"

You bit your bottom lip in a sad try to hide your big grin as you jumped and took the phone, pressing the grin button on the screen "hey bug"

"Oh, slivy, hey! You answered!" His voice sound exited along with a heavy panting.

"Of course I answered dumbass. So did you get home safe? Why only now?" You asked worried.

It's won't be the first time he fought alone without telling you, claiming that "he wants to keep you safe" even though your telekinesis powers.

"Oh, nononononono don't worry! My aunt wanted me to bring some eggs for dinner and I probably have to go out again after she'll burn them" he joked.

You herd a thousand stories about spiderman's aunt.

Sad storied like after his uncle died and she couldn't stop crying that spiderman had to give her food to bed and force her to eat or else she wouldn't.

Funny stories like when she tried to bake him a birthday cake and burned half of their kitchen.

You giggled and shook your head "It's midnight baga-boo, you should go to sleep" you said and received a nudge from your mother and a "look who's talking" look before she stole your phone.

"Hey, spiderman?" She asked.

It's the first time you're mom is talking to him. You hope he's not freaking out.

"Oh hey Mrs. Uh... silvy's mom" he squiked.

"Could you get her to sleep? I'm tired of trying and I'm sure she'll listen to you more than she'll listen to me" you scoffed and rolled your eyes.

You could hear his faint laugh through the phone and smiled.

"Sure, i was going to anyway, she have a big math test tomorrow and she needs to sleep or else she won't remember what we learned"

And that's it. That's all it took from spiderman to make your mother fall in love with him.

#peter parker #marvel #peter parker fanfic #peter parker fluff #peter parker fluff imagines #peter parker imagines #peter parker x y/n #peter parker x you #avengers #marvel mcu #tom!peter x reader #tom!peter parker x reader #tom!spiderman #tom holland spiderman #tom holland #tom holland x reader #spiderman x reader #spiderman smut

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bmpmp3 · 2 years

Note

please god talk about the orientalism i want to read that so bad

.... but im shy <:3 (JK JK lol but for real just as a heads up im a foolish undergrad who just has a really strong interest in orientalism in regards to art history and media analysis so take everything i say with a gallon of salt jfdklffsds)

so as a heads up for anyone who's not familiar with orientalism, its a concept referring to like, the colonial idea of an exoticised, mysterious "east" fabricated for a western gaze. originally from a textbook from the 70s that was focusing on middle eastern cultures, although because of the amalgamated nature of these fictionalised "east"s it nowadays has a lot of use when discussing perceptions of basically all of asia, southern western easten southeast etc, plus some south american and caribbean and other island cultures get caught in it too. i do think its kind of interesting as a racial and cultural form of criticism because it has little to do with the cultures being depicted and everything to do with the cultures doing the depiction, like its often less about appropriation than it is about deliberate othering, if that makes sense? sometimes when im talking casually (like i am now) i end up defining it as "when french painters in the 1800s got really horny about brown people and then got mad about it". sorry if any fully degreed art history scholars are following me that im like this.

ANYWAY i got particularly fascinated with how brown characters (often specifically indian and caribbean because thats part of my own background but like i said before. we're all in this together LOL) are depicted in romance stories since i play too many romance games and read too many romance comics and specifically recently ive been paying a lot of attention to the coding of orientalist-amalgam-of-like-five-different-south-and-west-asian-countries = mysterious. most of the time these romance stories usually just have one single vaguely brown mysterious prince of far-off-landia with no brown women characters (or if they are there they're either evil masterminds or treated like silent accessories so uhm. yeah).

I DONT have much a thesis statement about all this yet outside of what anyone else can tell you about orientalist depictions of cultures and the harms it inflicts, im mostly just keeping track of it all on my own and attempting to trace influences? if that makes sense? sometimes we in north america get a bit of a boom of specific orientalist tropes and ive always been really interested in tracking storytelling trends lol right now i have a very unprofessional and unresearched theory that old timey british adventure literature tropes of vaguely brown fantasy prince characters getting combined with various cultures colourisms (thats also another interesting thing about orientalism, any culture can depict another culture in an orientalist way even if they are a country that's often the victim of orientalism themselves since its about the gaze, like the western gaze of it all, if that makes sense? thats how we have some old bollywood movies with vague orientalist depictions of like three east asian countries amalgamated together into one character and then we have 1000000 sorta middle eastern sorta south asian (maybe a bit of hawaiian or another wildcard thrown in) vaguely brown mysterious princely anime boys in a bunch of comics and games from japan)

its also a little interesting because as someone who is probably best described irl as "sorta ambiguously brown ish question mark" (in a unique position as a mixed person who tends to get assumed to be anything but what i actually am LOL) i cant help but be a little attached to all my ambiguously brown brothers and sisters even if they're conceptualised as orientalist stereotypes in the stories theyre in. gently picks up every mysterious ambiguously brown guy from every otome game and carefully puts him safe and sound in my pocket. hes my guy now LOL i will protect them from their sloppy writing....

ive noticed that within a lot of family members too, getting really attached to vaguely brown characters over specifically brown ones, it might be a west indian immigrant/children of west indian immigrants urge since its not often that specific culture is depicted in a lot of wacky genre fiction that my family tends to like, like scifi and mystery? or maybe my extended family is weird who knows LOL

i dunno, i just really love thinking and analyzing things like this, even in stories i love!! it sometimes can be hard to explain to people but for me thinking critically about fiction isnt like a chore that needs to be done, its something i actively like doing! talking about the good things, the bad things, the harmful things, its all very interesting!!!! for me lol i guess thats why im majoring in stuff like art history orz

also sorry about the word vomit!! i got a lot of thoughts and not much brain to keep em in qwq

#ask #grabs you by the shoulders BY THE WAY what is the DEAL with AMBIGUOUS BROWN GUYS NAMED ZERO #is like three or four enough to consider that a trend or is my pattern recognition going in overdrive #and where on earth did that trend come from #maybe i should change my name to zero #add another to the pile

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cyhyr · 2 years

Text

Summer of Whump - Forced to Watch

Fandom: Naruto

Rating: T

Pairing: Kakashi/Iruka

WC: ~870

Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply

Additional Tags: Tied up, creepy whumpers, choking, established relationship, forced to watch, rope burn, asphyxiation, abrupt ending, TBC?

A/N: I wrote this in one sitting, this morning, on my phone, so if there are errors or it doesn't make sense I'm very sorry. I'm going to be taking a week or so off from SoW to finish up my KKIR Reverse Bang fic, but once that's sent off to the beta I'll do my best to catch up! There's no lead-up to this whump, so the entire thing is behind the cut; stay safe y'all!

This is a combo for my Bad Things Happen Bingo Board square: hogtied. I'll be posting an updated version of my Bingo Board for y'all to send in requests and prompts soon enough, so keep an eye out for that if you're interested in making a request!

If you want to be added to the tag list, comment below or send me a message!!

Tagging for Summer of Whump: @atereal @summer-of-whump @stupidbadgers

"At least we're still together," Kakashi murmurs, fidgeting in his bonds as he lay on his stomach next to Iruka. They're each tied up in such a way that their hands and ankles are bound together, forcing a deep stretch in the shoulders and thigh. It's not too bad, or it wouldn't be if their attackers hadn't also placed chakra repression seals between their shoulders.

Kakashi's as weak as a kitten, but no doubt just as fierce. Whatever these people plan to do, he'll fight back however he can.

Beside him, Iruka has relaxed into the bonds, breathing deeply and keeping his eyes closed gently. His mouth betrays him though, twisted in either pain or worry, and Kakashi's not sure which one he would prefer it to be.

"Iruka? Are you alright?"

Iruka opens his eyes and winces. "You didn't… hear them, as we were being brought in?"

Kakashi frowns, trying to remember, but he had been so focused on making sure that the people ushering Iruka along weren't hurting him that he honestly wasn't paying attention to much of anything else. That's what he gets for going on a mission with his boyfriend, though. And Sandaime had warned him not to do it, that doing so was a serious conflict of interest.

But still. The mission required seal script knowledge. And there aren't many Konoha ninja who claim seals as their proficiency. So, bringing Iruka along was a logical choice, really.

"They want information, Kakashi," Iruka says. "And they're prepared to do anything to us to get it."

"I won't—"

"Have a choice in the matter," Iruka finishes for him, snapping. "You're the ranking member of this squad, and I'll defer to you, but protocol states that information not be given out even under torture."

"Iruka. You will do whatever you need to do to stay safe," Kakashi says, a harsh whisper.

"And is that Kakashi, my captain, speaking; or Kakashi, my boyfriend?"

His heart stutters and flips. He… he can't answer that.

Doesn't get a chance to.

The flap on the tent they're being held in opens, and three people stride inside. The largest among them comes to Kakashi and lifts him to his knees, his wrists and ankles still tied together, forcing a slight arch to his back. The woman seats herself on Iruka's back, crossing her legs and smirking at his groan and deepening breath. And the last one comes to stand in front of Kakashi and puts his hands in his pockets, slouching nonchalantly, and says, "Tell us about the Konoha patrol shift schedules, the Archive door codes, and where to find the—"

"No." Kakashi snarls. "You're better off just killing me now. Hatake Kakashi, jōnin, registration number 009720. I will not talk."

The man smirks and steps back to stand beside Iruka, nudging his cheek with his boot. Iruka initially winces, but gathers his wits and steadies himself.

"Maybe not now. But you will."

The woman speaks up, running her fingers through Iruka's hair. "We've done enough research into Konoha shinobi to know how much you all value each other, and this one is so very pretty, don't you think so, Boss?"

Kakashi watches Iruka close his eyes, like he's already admitting defeat somehow, and he seethes, "If you touch him—"

"Oh don't worry about that," the Boss chuckles. "We're going to do so much more than touch. Daki-chan, would you like to start?"

The woman grins and purrs, "You know I would." She leans over and twists her fingers in Iruka's hair and asks, "Will you speak, pretty boy?"

Through gritted teeth, Iruka says, "Umino Iruka, chūnin, registration number 011850."

"Iruka—!"

"That's what I thought," she giggles, and drops his head back to the ground. She takes a length of rope from the Boss, and Kakashi watches in horror as she wraps it around his neck and pulls it tight, choking him roughly. All the while she sits on his upper back, pressing his shoulders into the ground while his arms and legs strain with the position of the tie. He thrashes as much as he can, but he's in no position to free himself.

And Kakashi can do nothing but watch as his face turns red, then purple, before Daki lets go and Iruka sucks in air with heaving, coughing breaths. There's already the barest beginnings of rope burn on his neck from his thrashing.

The Boss takes a knee in front of him. "Ready to talk yet?"

Kakashi can hardly breathe, but he can see Iruka's hard eyes staring at him from around the Boss's shoulders. Iruka would never forgive him if he gave these people information, and besides that there's no guarantee that even if he did that they'd let them live. Better to just… wait it out and see if he can get them free. They'll have to tire eventually.

It takes all of his willpower and training to keep his voice steady as he responds, "Hatake Kakashi, jōnin, registration number 009720."

The Boss just laughs. "Alright, alright. So you need some more convincing. Daki-chan, would you continue, please?"

Daki nods and pulls on the rope, "Certainly."

Kakashi watches, waiting for the moment when he can get them out of this.

#summer of whump #summer of whump 11 #forced to watch #bad things happen bingo #hogtied #kakairu #Umino iruka #hatake kakashi #my writing

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