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punkshort · 3 months

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somewhere to run | 7. break the chain

Pairing: sheriff!Joel x f!reader

Chapter Summary: You take the next step in your relationship with Joel. (Smut. It's just all smut. All of it.)

Chapter Warnings: language, smut (18+ MDNI), Joel being a consent king, unprotected piv sex, fingering, dirty talk, hair pulling, oral sex (f receiving), reader is a little bit sexually inexperienced, brief thoughts of SA but absolutely nothing descriptive, talking about injuries (bruising), oh yeah and infidelity duh

WC: 7.3K

Series Masterlist

There were a lot of things that went through your head when you woke up that morning. Primarily, your thoughts centered around giving your statement and dread you felt about Joel possibly treating you differently once he heard the truth. And you were partially right. He did end up treating you differently, but not at all in the way you expected.

No, you certainly didn't expect your evening to end up with Joel's body pressing yours into your couch, his lips alternating between peppering chaste kisses along your jaw to his tongue probing desperately into your mouth while your fingers gripped his tie and the stiff fabric of his dress shirt, holding him as close as possible because you were terrified he might stop.

You knew you were technically being unfaithful, but was it really cheating if your husband treated you like a prisoner? If you never had any means of escape from a marriage you felt manipulated into? Besides, Joel knew everything now and he still chose to stay. Nobody's ever stood by you or tried to help you the way he had. Whatever ended up happening that night, you knew it wasn't going to be meaningless. You trusted him, you knew that much, and for once in your life you finally felt like maybe, just maybe, you could free yourself from Patrick and live the life you deserved.

His hand cupped your cheek, fingertips digging into the back of your neck while he held all his weight on his other forearm, hovering above you and trying to keep his hips from rubbing against your center but his body was desperate for friction, and he knew he couldn't hold himself back much longer. After everything he heard you say, every horrible memory you were forced to bring up and relive, he wanted nothing more than to help take it all away. He wanted to cleanse your mind of those memories, of the life you felt forced to suffer through, and prove to you right then and there that love shouldn't hurt. Had you ever even really felt love before? Truly? Probably not.

Joel's hand left your face and drifted down to your shoulder, then gingerly grazed your ribs, his tongue still dancing with yours, trying to pull out that sweet sound you gifted him with only once before at the carnival. A sound that haunted his dreams, a sound he replayed over and over in his mind late at night when he tried to sleep but was too consumed with thoughts of you.

His fingers dipped lower and nervously fidgeted with the belt of your robe. He was suddenly unsure, now that he was aware of your past, what you would be comfortable with. He pulled back and looked down at you, watching as your chest heaved beneath him. Your perfect, swollen lips were parted and your eyes were dark with lust as you gazed up at him.

"Maybe we should slow down," he said, selfishly regretting the offer the moment it left his lips, but the last thing he wanted to do was pressure you. Thankfully, you shook your head and tugged gently on his tie, urging him back down, but once again his conscience got the best of him and he hesitated.

You furrowed your brow, trying to figure out what the problem was when it occurred to you, a thought that quickly snapped you out of your trance in shame. Scooting yourself back so you could prop yourself up on your elbows, you took a deep breath before speaking.

"Right. Nikki."

His eyes widened and he immediately shook his head.

"No, that's over," he told you, and you inwardly sighed with relief. "But what you said at the station earlier, I just thought..." he trailed off, a part of him not wanting to ruin the moment but the other part of him trying to be respectful. It was clearly not something you were used to. You were used to a man who just took what he wanted from you over and over and Joel absolutely refused to be like that, no matter how badly he ached for you.

"Were you telling me the truth before?" you asked, seemingly ignoring what he just said. He frowned, not following. "You told me you would make me forget about every man who's ever had me."

His breath caught in his throat as he remembered that night at the carnival when he walked you back to your car. He had no idea his words would have such an impact. At the time, it was just something he said in the heat of the moment, but hearing those words echoed back to him, after everything he now knew, he took it as a challenge. All you seemed to know was pain and hurt, but if you let him, he would show you how good it could really be.

"Yes," he said, his eyes boring into yours and watching as a flicker of excitement passed over your perfect features and suddenly all he could think about was taking your pain away.

"Then make me forget."

His mouth crashed down on yours again and finally, finally, he heard that little moan. The one that he couldn't get out of his head. The one that drove him crazy ever since he heard it. The one he daydreamed about every time he looked at you. He growled against your mouth as his arms wrapped around your middle, scooping you upright and making you grip his shoulders for dear life as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his waist while he blindly walked towards your bedroom. You giggled against his mouth when his shoulder knocked into the doorframe and he cursed under his breath. He opened his eyes for just a moment so he could get the layout of the room and put you down safely on the bed.

His lips traveled down your neck while he nimbly undid your robe, his hands sliding underneath the thin fabric, fingers dancing over your delicate skin. He felt you stiffen under him when he touched your side and once again, he pulled back to look. Any other day, his eyes would have locked onto your exposed breasts, but not today. Today, he was focused entirely on the enormous bruise still struggling to heal over your ribs and he had to actively suppress his reaction, but you could still see it. His nostrils flared and he clenched his jaw as he continued to examine the deep blues and purples that littered your beautiful skin.

"I'm fine," you told him quickly, your breath coming in quick gasps as you tried to pull his attention back. "Promise, I'm fine."

His eyes found yours for a brief moment before he looked back at the bruise, then leaned forward to plant a tender kiss against it. He heard you sigh, your hands finding his hair, and he kissed your ribs again, forcing himself to shift gears. You didn't want his pity. Not right now.

"You were naked under this thing the whole time you were talkin' to me?" he murmured, his lips traveling across your stomach, leaving soft licks in its wake.

"I told you I was in the shower," you replied teasingly, grateful that he moved past the bruise as his mouth found the underside of your breast. He pulled your nipple into his mouth and you arched your back with a gasp, his tongue flicking over the stiffened peak.

"Joel?" you whispered, and he hummed in response, still lavishing your chest with attention. "Take off your clothes."

You felt the prickle of his facial hair against your overly sensitive skin when his lips turned up into a smile. He pushed himself up, kneeling between your legs as he stared down at you watching him tug slowly on his tie, unknotting it before tossing it on the floor behind him. His eyes were still glued to yours, the corner of his mouth turning up in a smirk as he slowly unbuttoned his shirt. You watched, lips parted, your eyes greedily drifting down his chest as his thick fingers undid each button with precision until he finally got to the bottom, tugging the shirt out of his slacks and shrugging it off.

Your hands came up to work on his belt while he lifted his white T-shirt off over his head. His hands dropped to his sides as he tilted his hips forward more, giving you better access until you yanked the leather from his waist aggressively, making him chuckle. You were about to start working on his pants when you noticed the deep purple bruise marking the right side of his chest and you gasped, sitting up to reach out to him.

"Oh my god," you whispered, your eyes filled with worry.

"It doesn't hurt anymore," he told you quickly, but he could see the pain behind your eyes when you looked at him.

"I'm so sorry," you told him, your lower lip beginning to tremble.

"Don't be sorry," he said, his hands coming up to cup your face. "None of this is your fault."

"I made him come here," you said, tears welling up in your eyes. "I moved here and ruined everything!"

"No, stop," he said, shaking his head and pressing a gentle kiss against your lips. "You movin' here's the best thing that ever happened to me, okay?"

You sniffled and looked up at him, his thumb drying your tears as quickly as they fell.

"It's okay," he whispered, giving you another soft kiss. You sighed, leaning into his touch like a lifeline. Like it was the only thing tethering you to reality. "You're okay," he added in-between kisses, and you decided to believe him. You let him ease you back onto the mattress, his warm skin pressing against your chest while your hands dipped between your bodies, fingers fumbling with the button on his pants. He lifted his hips up ever so slightly, just enough to give you room to maneuver his zipper and tug on his waistband, but not too much because he couldn't fathom not feeling your body against his for even one unnecessary second.

When you finally managed to pull his pants down, he kicked his legs out behind him, flicking the restricting material onto the floor to join the rest of his clothes. His mouth traveled down your chin, along your jaw and taking a small break behind your ear before he continued down your throat, his teeth grazing gently against the delicate skin as you began to writhe underneath him.

"Are you sure you wanna do this?" he asked, his lips sucking on your collarbone. He realized how ridiculous it seemed to ask that now that you were already both naked, but he felt the need to give you another chance to back out. He couldn't get your words out of his head and he needed to make sure you wanted this just as badly as he did.

"Yes," you moaned, tipping your head back, your eyes sliding shut. "Yes, please Joel, please, please - oh!"

You gasped when you felt his thick fingers trace along your folds, collecting the wetness there before his fingertip teased at your entrance, trying to learn your body's cues so he could give you exactly what you needed. Your hips jutted upwards, encouraging him to continue and he smirked against your skin as he sunk one finger inside. Your grip on his shoulders tightened as you let out a low moan, the sound sending even more blood directly between his legs and he was beginning to question if he was going to make it.

"Fuck, baby," he murmured, withdrawing his finger quickly and making you whine. "I know, I know," he cooed, his breathing becoming shallow as he repositioned himself between your legs. "I just- I can't- shit, I need you so bad," he told you as he notched himself against your opening. You eagerly spread your legs wider, looking up at him with heavy lidded eyes, your chest and neck all pink from his facial hair. He watched how the rush of blood underneath your soft skin he caused helped to hide the bruises and scrapes someone else left. It was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen. Like he was watching the start of him erasing all those horrible memories.

"You tell me if you don't like somethin', or if it's too much, or if it hurts-"

"Okay," you said, cutting him off and nodding enthusiastically.

"Okay," he repeated, his voice a little shaky as he locked eyes with you for one more brief moment before pressing forward. You both groaned, jaws hanging open as your bodies welcomed each other so perfectly. He inched in slowly, trying to memorize every single second until he bottomed out, one hand gripping your hip and the other clenched into a fist next to your head, holding himself up so he could watch your face for any sign of discomfort. When it became clear there was none, he let himself drop down onto his forearm so he could slot his mouth back over yours. You moaned sweetly into the kiss, your fingers coming up to grip his curls and he felt goosebumps travel down his arms. Fuck, he really liked it when you tugged a little on his hair.

You lifted your hips a bit, rocking them, trying to get him to move, but he tightened his grip and pushed your hips back down.

"Not yet," he gasped, letting his forehead rest against yours as he tried to collect himself. "Just... just gimme a second."

"Is everything okay?" you asked after another moment, and he let out a soft laugh.

"Yeah, I'm just afraid this'll end too soon. Gotta make you feel good first," he explained sheepishly, planting a small kiss on the tip of your nose.

"About that," you said, dropping your hands from his hair. "I can't... no one's ever... y'know," you trailed off, feeling your cheeks flare. He frowned as he pieced together what you were trying to say.

"You've never had an orgasm?"

"Well, on my own, yes. But not with someone else," you said hurriedly, shame and embarrassment coursing through your veins as you watched his face fill with disappointment.

"It doesn't mean I don't enjoy it, you just don't need to-"

"Make you come?" he finished for you, raising his eyebrows in disbelief.

"Uh huh," you squeaked, hoping you weren't as red as you felt. He tsked and shook his head.

"Oh baby, you poor thing," he mumbled, leaning down to give you another sweet kiss before reaching to the side to grab a pillow. "Lift up."

Confused, you did as you were told, lifting your hips up so he could wedge the pillow underneath you.

"Comfortable?"

"Yeah, but-"

"Don't worry, I got this. I got you," he said, giving his hips an experimental roll and watching your face for your reaction. You sucked in a deep breath and your eyes fluttered closed. Good start.

He gave it to you nice and slow, dragging himself in and out, building you up little by little and paying close attention to your body language. If it was possible to hate Patrick even more, he did. You had said your relationship together wasn't always bad, but as he suspected, your definition of good was not at all what it should be. And Joel was eager to prove that to you.

"So beautiful. D'you know how beautiful you are?" he murmured, picking up the pace just a bit, his tongue flicking over your nipple each time he sunk back inside you. You gasped, the sensation unraveling something in you. "D'you know how crazy I am 'bout you? Think 'bout you all the time," he switched his attention to your other breast, his thrusts remaining steady as he waited for your body to tell him what it needed.

"Me, too," you whispered, your hands coming back up to get tangled in his hair, making him groan.

"Talk to me, I wanna make you feel good," he said, lifting his head off your chest to look at you. "Tell me what you like."

"It's good," you assured him, your eyebrows furrowed in concentration, little gasps leaving your mouth each time he pushed back into you.

"Nah, not good enough," he determined, propping himself up on both forearms now so he could change the angle. His fingers suddenly reached down to grip your knee, pulling it up to your chest before falling back on his forearms. You gasped, eyes flying open as he circled his hips and he smirked. Got it.

"Ohmygod!" you cried out, pulling on his hair and making him moan. "Right there, Joel, don't stop-"

You had no idea how he managed to actually do it, but he did. He reached a spot deep inside that you didn't know even existed and it wasn't long until you felt yourself falling, his name tumbling from your lips over and over and you had a faint idea of how loud you were being but you didn't care. Nobody, including yourself, has ever made you feel that good and it was making you dizzy, your brain foggy as you tried to make sense of what just happened.

"Fuck, what I tell you? So good, you did so good," he mumbled, his lips frantically finding yours as he chased his own high. "I'd give you one more but it's a miracle I lasted this long," he panted, his head falling to your shoulder as you still struggled to come back to earth underneath him. Your fingers in his hair loosened and he grunted, one of his hands coming up to make sure you kept your hands there and you quickly figured out what he wanted. Making sure to grasp a good handful, you gave his hair one firm tug.

"Oh shit!" he groaned, pulling out of you just in time to come all over your inner thighs. "Shit, shit, shit," he muttered, his hips weakly thrusting forward until he was spent, collapsing in a heap on top of you.

"Sorry," he mumbled into the crook of your neck and you giggled. "I might've ruined your sheets," he added with a chuckle, and you laughed even harder.

"It's okay," you said, burying your nose in his messy curls. "I'm on birth control, you could've..."

"Didn't exactly have enough time to ask first if that was okay," he said, smiling against your neck. What a concept, you thought. Being asked first.

"Do you, um," you began, not sure why you felt so nervous around him still. "Do you like getting your hair pulled?"

Joel laughed softly and finally rolled off to the side, allowing you to take deep breaths again now that his weight wasn't crushing you.

"I think I only like it when you do it," he said, grinning while the tips of his ears started to turn red. You hummed and rolled to your side so you could face him.

"I'll keep that in mind for next time," you replied with a wink.

He rolled onto his side as well, tucking a stray piece of hair behind your ear.

"I like the sound of a 'next time'," he said, making you blush before planting a quick kiss on your forehead and standing up with a grunt. You watched as he left your room, still completely naked, the sight making you grin and bite your lip. He returned just a minute later with a wet washcloth and you watched as he gently cleaned you up before attempting to spot clean your sheets, then giving up and flopping back into bed, wrapping his arms around you and pulling you against his chest.

It felt so warm, so safe, so peaceful that you never wanted to leave. His big hands gently rubbed your arm, his touch so soft and soothing that you almost felt like you could fall asleep. You closed your eyes and pressed your ear against his chest, listening to the rhythmic thud, thud, thud of his heart. Every strong beat a reminder that he was real, that he cared, that he was going to help you. Even if your relationship never got to this point, you knew he would still help you get out of this mess you were in, because he was a good man. You just wish it didn't take so long to find him.

You glanced at your digital clock and tried to hide your disappointment when you saw it was nearly 6pm.

"You'll have to get going soon," you reminded him, your fingers running lightly over his bare chest. "Sarah's probably waiting for you."

He hummed and picked up his phone, checking his calendar quickly before dialing a number. You could hear the ringing on the other end and a tinny voice answer.

"Hey Tommy. Can you or Maria pick up Sarah and keep her overnight? Yeah, I'm workin' a late one, not sure when I'll get home."

Joel listened to his brother's answer for a moment before nodding his head.

"That's no problem, I'll call and tell her you'll be there in an hour. Thanks, I owe you one." He pulled the phone back and you tried to stifle your smile as he went to dial Sarah.

"You don't have to-"

"Shh," he said, then "hey babygirl, I'm sorry but I'm gonna be late tonight. Uncle Tommy'll come by to get you in an hour and you can stay at his house... yeah, I'm sure if you wanted to do your homework at the diner, he won't care. You all good? How was your day?"

You nestled into his shoulder as you listened to him talk to his daughter, asking her questions about school and her extra curricular activities before he finished up the call, telling her he loved her as he hung up.

"You didn't have to do all that."

"Yeah, but I wanted to," he said, kissing the top of your head. You sighed and leaned back into his chest, then froze when you heard his stomach.

"You didn't eat, did you?" you asked with a smirk, and you felt his chest bounce lightly up and down as he stifled a laugh. "Can I make you something? Do you like pasta?" you asked him, sitting up in bed but he reached out and grabbed your shoulders, pulling you back into him.

"Yeah, but I don't want you leavin' just yet," he mumbled, his voice rumbling in his chest and echoing through your ear. You couldn't help but smile at how sweet he was, and you kicked yourself for not telling him everything sooner.

"The noodles are already cooked, it won't take long," you said, sitting back up again after a minute, and this time, he let you, but only after he insisted on helping. Or at least, he thought he was helping by leaning against the counter and circling his arms around your waist while you stirred the sauce.

"If I burn this, it's your fault," you teased, tipping your head back against his shoulder as his lips made their way down your neck.

"Mm, worth it," he mumbled.

You watched him eat from across your small kitchen table with a goofy look on your face. It was still hard to believe the past couple hours really happened, and having him sitting in your tiny apartment eating leftover pasta in his boxers was just making it seem even more surreal.

"What're you lookin' at me like that for?" he asked, his mouth turning up into a smirk as he swallowed the last of his food.

"Can't I just look at you?"

"You got somethin' goin' on up there," he said, tapping the side of his head and leaning back in his chair.

"I was just thinking how the book club ladies were right about you."

He frowned and gave you a confused look.

"All the women in this town are crazy about you, you know that, right?"

He shrugged a little but you saw his cheeks begin to color.

"You're the only one I want crazy 'bout me," he replied, making your heart flutter.

"Mission accomplished," you said, and he chuckled before standing up to wash his plate in your sink, and you watched, still in utter disbelief he was standing there barely dressed in your kitchen.

"I can feel you still lookin' at me," he said, his back to you, and you laughed.

"I'm just having a hard time believing this isn't a dream," you said, coming over to lean against the doorway.

He turned around, drying his hands on a towel before looking you up and down.

"Want me to prove it?" he asked lowly as he took a few short steps towards you. He bent down slightly so he could run his hands up the backs of your legs, disappearing beneath your robe to grab onto your ass. You could feel your knees weakening already, his touch continuing to be your downfall.

"Yes," you whispered, tipping your head so you could find his throat, your tongue leaving wet marks after every little bite to his tanned skin while his hands kept roaming over your body. He quickly became fed up with your robe and before you knew it, it was piled in a heap next to your fridge.

He dropped to his knees, leaving your head spinning at the sudden loss, and when he lifted one of your legs up to rest over his shoulder, you gasped. Even though you knew the answer, you asked him anyway.

"W-what are you doing?"

His eyes found yours and he paused, looking up at you from between your legs, his eyes hot with desire and his curls a floppy mess on his head.

"Is this okay?" he asked, and you swallowed nervously.

"I d-don't... I've never had -" you cut yourself off as your cheeks once again flushed with embarrassment.

"You're kiddin' me, right?" he asked, his expression unreadable. "No one's ever licked this perfect pussy before?"

"Jesus Christ, Joel!" you laughed, taken aback by his blunt words. Never in your life had you ever expected to hear this kind of talk come out of his mouth.

He chuckled and nosed at your folds, making you gasp.

"You ain't heard nothin' yet," he muttered before flicking his tongue out and licking a broad stripe up your center. Your hands flew out to grip the counter behind you, your mouth hanging open, unable to form a coherent thought, let alone sentence.

"Oh, my god," you finally managed to whisper, your head tilting forward and your eyes sliding shut as he buried his face between your legs, his facial hair rubbing against your overly sensitive skin, making it difficult to remember how to breathe.

His fingers gripped your thigh, keeping you in place as he lapped at your arousal, moaning to himself at the taste. Earlier, he felt so angry no one had been able to make you come before, but now he found something incredibly arousing about being able to do these things for you for the very first time. He felt himself throb as he listened to your perfect little moans, garbled versions of his name and curses driving him wild. When your legs began to shake, he hooked your other one over his shoulder, holding you up as you leaned back onto your forearms, trying to take some of the weight off him.

You looked down just as he slid one finger inside your aching heat, hooking it and brushing against that same spot as before while his lips wrapped around your clit, the combination of the two sending you head first into a dizzying orgasm. He felt your arms slack and he quickly reached up with his free hand to make sure you didn't fall, all the while his mouth and finger rode out your climax, slowing down only when your body warned him to. He could feel it when your stomach muscles began to jump and your legs twitched over his shoulders, so he finally pulled away with a satisfied smirk, leaving a trail of wet kisses along your inner thighs as you tried to catch your breath.

"God, you're really good at that," you finally managed to say.

He grinned and carefully set you back on your feet before standing back up with a groan.

"Can't believe no one could ever made you come before," he murmured into your neck as he wrapped his arms around you.

"Maybe you just got lucky," you teased, and he chuckled for a moment before scooping you up, making you squeal in surprise.

"Don't give me a challenge and expect me not to follow through," he said as he walked you over to your tiny kitchen table and laid you down. Your heart raced as you watched him fling his shirt over his head and you did your best to ignore the ugly bruise this time, just as he had been doing to yours. He pushed his boxers down to his knees, not even bothering to remove them as he gripped his erection in his fist, sliding the tip slowly through the remains of your release and watching you flinch when he nudged against your sensitive clit.

His eyes found yours and he waited, wanting to hear you say it, needing to hear you say it.

"Yes," you whispered with a nod. "I need you, Joel. Please make me come again."

He wasted no time sinking back inside you, a groan of relief slipping past his lips as he looked down and watched you stretch so perfectly around him.

"You got any idea how many times I've imagined you sayin' somethin' like that to me?" he said through gritted teeth, watching as your breasts bounced lightly underneath him from the force of his thrusts. "How many times I came all over my own hand thinkin' 'bout you? God, you feel so fuckin' good, better than I ever imagined."

Somewhere in the back of your head, you knew you should feel embarrassed listening to his confession, but at the moment you couldn't bring yourself to care. In fact, it only served to spur you on, your slick coating him more and more every time he pulled out. You hooked your ankles around his back and your fingers gripped the backs of his hands, which were holding your hips in place as he fucked into you, stopping you from sliding up the table.

"Kiss me," you mumbled, and without a second thought he lifted you up so you were sitting on the edge of the table, his hips still rocking into you as his mouth crashed over yours. One arm around your middle, the other around your shoulders, holding you tightly against him as his tongue probed inside your mouth, licking past your teeth, pouring every ounce of affection he had for you into the kiss.

He dropped one hand to your waist, tilting your hips and making you gasp, your legs nearly losing their grip around him. You could hear the legs of the table squeaking against the floor and had you not been so far gone, you might have wondered if it could be heard in the pizza place downstairs.

"Fuck it," he growled, picking you up, growing frustrated with the table and turned around to pin you against the wall instead.

You cried out his name, the new position making you see stars.

"Think you can come again for me?" he whispered in your ear, his hot breath on your neck sending a shiver down your spine.

"Yes," you whined, tipping your head back against the wall, surrendering over your body. Trusting him, needing him to give you something you've never had before. Something beyond the physical. Something meaningful. Something good.

Your fingers dug into his shoulders, looking for something to ground you as the wave of euphoria crashed over you. You buried your face against his neck, practically sobbing his name as he continued to fuck you through it. Your legs began to weaken but you did your best to hold on.

"Oh fuck, I'm gonna come," he groaned, pulling back just a bit, just enough to look down and watch as he disappeared inside your wet heat over and over, the visual sending him over the edge.

"Come inside me," you mumbled, still in a daze. You heard him moan and then whimper, the force of his orgasm taking every last bit of strength and willpower he had. His hips bucked forward, determined to give you every drop of his spend until he finally slowed and collapsed against you.

"Can you stand?" he asked, his mouth against your shoulder as an aftershock ran down his spine.

"Yeah," you said weakly, forcing your eyes open as he slid out of you and gently placed your feet back on the floor. You stood, squeezing your legs together as he pulled his boxers back up and scooped your robe off the floor, draping it back around your shoulders.

"You look tired," he said softly, hooking a finger under your chin, tilting it up so you would look at him.

"I've had a big day," you said with a lazy smile.

The two of you spent the rest of the evening on the couch, trying to watch TV but you were so content and relaxed, you once again found yourself falling asleep against him, his fingers stroking small circles over your back as you drifted off.

You woke up with a start early the next morning, the day before seeming like a fever dream until you felt Joel's arms wrapped around you. At some point he must have carried you to bed because that is where you currently found yourself, his warm body pressed up against yours underneath your sheets. You inhaled deeply, your whole bed smelling just like him. A familiar, comforting smell that made your muscles relax as you melted back into his hold. You couldn't see the time, but you knew it was way too early, so you tried to fall back asleep, however, your body was already responding to being so close to him, and you were finding it difficult to think about anything else.

You shifted restlessly next to him, trying your hardest to ignore the ache between your legs: one that was a mixture of soreness from the night before, and a new, growing need. You never really thought of yourself as a very sexual person. Even when you first met Patrick, you couldn't recall ever feeling like this. Some foolish part of you wondered if it was something else that was the driving force behind your neediness, but you quickly dismissed that idea. It had to be the way he could read your body like a book, maneuver you and touch you exactly the right way at exactly the right time that caused you to crave him this badly because you weren't sure what you would do if it was the alternative. You didn't want to even think about that yet because you knew neither of you could do anything about it until you figured out how to deal with Patrick, and although Joel made promises to help, you knew not to get your hopes up too high.

"You always move around this much?" he teased, his voice a deep, low rumble in his chest, making the ache for him grow even stronger.

Rolling over in his arms, you turned to face him, his eyes still shut but the corner of his mouth turned up into a smirk. He looked so perfect in the morning, it almost wasn't fair. His tousled curls and his voice sounding more like a growl than anything else made up your mind, not that you needed much more convincing.

Deciding to ignore his question, you leaned forward to press wet kisses against his bare chest, slowly making your way across and pausing when you got to his bruise. You made sure to be gentle as you peppered the area with kisses, because even though he said it didn't hurt, you knew better.

"Mm, I could get used to this," he sighed, eyes still closed as he pulled you even closer. He was so warm and he smelled so good and you felt so safe. If you had it your way, you wouldn't leave that bed for the rest of the day.

You continued to trail little bites and licks up his neck, his pebbled skin salty against your tongue while your hand slipped down between your bodies and behind his waistband to wrap your fingers around his already hardening length. He let out a small gasp and his eyes finally opened, looking down at you heatedly as you slowly stroked him up and down.

"Again?" he asked in disbelief, but he was already rolling you over so he could position himself on top of you, his hand sliding down your side to untie the robe you never ended up changing out of the night before. He pulled his head back a bit so he could flick your robe open, your lips losing contact with his skin but your hand still slowly working him underneath his boxers.

"Need you," you mumbled, your eyelids heavy with sleep and lust.

"Yeah?" he asked, fully awake now as his fingers toyed with your nipple, rolling it between his fingers, making you whine. "Tell me, baby. Tell me what you need."

"Need you to fuck me," you replied, no longer feeling any shame or embarrassment. He growled and grabbed your wrist, pulling you off of his cock and gently pressing your arm into the mattress so he could yank his boxers down with his other hand. As he was about to notch himself at your opening, you stopped him.

"Can I be on top?"

He glanced up at you and a huge grin spread across his face.

"Fuck yes, you can," he said, quickly rolling onto his back and pulling you with him so you straddled his hips.

"I never got to do it this way before," you told him, lifting your hips so you could position him under you. He was about to reply but you began to slowly sink down, making his jaw drop, words failing him.

"Wha- fuck," he groaned, his teeth clenched and neck strained when you found yourself fully seated on him, and you let out a sigh of relief. "Whatever you want, it's yours," he finally said, sliding his eyes shut as you began to roll your hips slowly, his hands on your waist gently guiding you.

You planted your hands firmly on his chest, careful to avoid the bruise as you furrowed your brow and picked up your pace, alternating between rolling and grinding on top of him. His thick length reached depths you didn't know existed, and soft, little grunts slipped past your lips each time your skin slapped together.

"God, you're good at that," he mumbled, echoing your earlier words back. His eyes remained closed but his breath was becoming shallower the faster your hips moved.

"You think?" you asked him, suddenly feeling shy. His eyes popped open to find yours and he nodded.

"Oh, yeah. Fuck, so good," he snarled, his gaze dropping down you watch you bounce on him, something he thought he would never actually get to experience but fantasized about more times than he could count.

"I think it's -" you cut yourself off with a gasp when you found a particularly good angle, your eyes squeezing shut, desperately trying to focus. "Think it's all you," you finally managed to get out.

"Hell no," he said with a shake of his head, but your eyes were still closed. "Look at me, baby."

You forced your eyes open, pupils blown wide with desire, lips swollen and parted as you continued to ride him.

"It's you. You're fuckin' amazing, and I'm so sorry no one's told you that before."

Your hips faltered at the unexpectedly sweet sentiment, but his hands urged you to continue, so you did.

You leaned forward, putting more pressure on his chest as you bounced up and down. Joel watched, his gaze transfixed on your face as you chased your high, using him to give yourself what you wanted.

"That's right, take it," he said encouragingly, helping you move up and down a little faster, your mouth forming a small circle the closer and closer you got to your orgasm. "Fuckin' take it, take what you need." And give me your pain. I'll take it all.

"Oh fuck, Joel," you whined, tipping your head back as you felt the heat pooling low in your belly. "Fuck, I think I'm gonna come," you added, your breath coming in sharp gasps as your legs began to grow weak from the effort.

"Look at me," he panted, a thin layer of sweat coating his neck and chest as he tried to hold himself back from flipping you over and fucking you into the mattress.

You lazily rolled your head forward, forcing your eyes open so you could look at him.

"Wanna look at you when you come," he explained, and maybe yesterday you would have blushed, but today you just nodded and furrowed your brows in concentration, your release so close you could taste it.

"That's it baby, c'mon, give it to me. I can feel it, feel you squeezin' me. All for me, ain't that right? All mine?" he rambled, his words pushing you higher and higher.

"Yeah," you whined. His eyes were ablaze when he looked up at you, raw need and desire painted across his face. "All yours. You make me feel so good, Joel."

"Show me," he commanded, his nostrils flaring, his hands gripping your hips until you moaned his name so loudly you should have been embarrassed but all you could focus on was the way he made you feel.

He watched you fall apart on top of him, the sight filling him with so much pride and satisfaction that he quickly sat up so you were sitting on his lap as he fucked into you, desperate to join you, his mouth covering yours messily. Your fingers raked through his hair, twisting around the curls before giving it a sharp tug. He groaned loudly, thrusting deep into you until his hips stilled and he emptied himself inside you once again.

"That was incredible," he panted against your mouth, trying to catch his breath. You just slumped against him tiredly, your body unable to hold itself up any longer. He eased you both down onto the bed, letting you lay on top of his sweaty chest while he rubbed your back, his nose buried in your hair. "You're incredible," he said softly, correcting himself.

A nagging thought in the back of your head wondered what this meant for you two, but you didn't want to break the spell. For the first time in such a long time, you were happy and content and you didn't want to ruin it. But you knew the town was too small for your relationship with Joel to remain a secret, and if people didn't already know, they would soon find out you were still married to Patrick. You chewed on your lip as your mind wandered, still lying on top of him, your head rising and falling with each breath he took.

"You alright?" he asked, picking up on your silence.

"Mhm, just tired," you said, lifting your head to give him a small smile. He searched your eyes for a moment, not believing you.

"You sure? Did I hurt you?" he asked, pinching his eyebrows together. You reached a hand up to his face, the pad of your thumb smoothing out the frown, making him smile.

"You could never hurt me," you told him, hoping you were right before pressing a kiss against his lips.

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#joel miller #joel miller fanfiction #joel miller fic #joel the last of us #joel miller smut #joel miller fluff #joel miller x f!reader #joel miller angst #joel miller series #joel miller x reader #sheriff!joel #STR fic #the last of us hbo #the last of us fanfiction #pedro pascal characters fanfiction #pedro pascal

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evermoresqueiswriting · 13 days

Text

the one where clarisse learns about her love language

"Late in the night, the city's asleep Your love is a secret I'm hoping, dreaming, dying to keep Change my priorities The taste of your lips is my idea of luxury" - King Of My Heart, Taylor Swift

summary: after getting hurt during one game of capture de flag, clarisse gets taken care of by you and after this, clarisse went from never being at the infirmary to being there almost every day with a new injury. weird for an ares kid to get this easily injured, but you didn't mind

pairing: clarisse la rue x apollo!reader

word count: 6.2k i suddenly lost the ability to write shorter fics bruh

tags: fluff, clarisse fell first and harder

masterlist // ask box

No one at camp had a job at camp per say. Hephaestus kids were the ones forging the weapons campers used, and Demeter kids sometimes cooked dinner. And some Apollo kids – including yourself – were the designated healers at camp. So, it wasn’t your job, per say, to stay at the infirmary all day long, but you were.

You enjoyed the calm and serenity of that place. The sun always shined through the windows, and you could sunbathe all day long, while listening to your favourite songs or painting. Most of the time it was quiet, except when Will followed you there. He was a rather loud kid, he loved to ask questions and learn about everything you did.

“Shouldn’t you be playing with other kids your age instead of trying to work here?”

“Shouldn’t you be socialising with kids your age instead of working for free?” Will replied in the same tone.

“Rude!”

“I learned from the best,” he gave you a pat on the shoulder.

“I regret it. All the time,” you turned away. “If you’re gonna stay here, at least help me clean this place.”

The first time Will tried to help you clean this place, it was a disaster. Before you ran the infirmary, it wasn’t organised, everything was just laying around. Then you came in, and cleaned up the place, and organised it how you liked it. Will didn’t know that, so he just cleaned up like he thought was fine. It wasn’t. And you had lectured him about never – ever – touching anything again without you being there.

“Tomorrow’s Capture the Flag,” Will started. “They put really far from the flag and the fight, again,” he frowned.

“Oh. I’m sorry.”

“It always happens when the Ares cabin is teaming up with us. They’re always leading the fight.”

“Well they are good,” you shrugged. “But you know you can talk to Lee about this, he’s our head counsellor and he could talk to Clarisse.”

He shook his head.

“Clarisse is kinda scary,” Will admitted.

“Did I never tell you to never judge a book by its cover,” you put your hands on your hips, “but in that case you’re right. Clarisse does scare me a little bit too. And I’m kinda glad she decided to put me far away from her this time.”

Will rolled his eyes, clearly still upset.

“Okay, I can see how this isn’t great,” you sighed. “If for the next one, we’re still teaming up with the Ares cabin, I’ll talk to Lee and Clarisse alright?”

He nodded. Hopefully, you weren’t going to team up with the Ares cabin anytime soon. You never talked to Clarisse, but you knew who she was. Everyone knew her. Ares daughter, head counsellor and incredibly scary. She was an amazing fighter, and no one wanted to be at the other end of her spear.

“I’m just saying,” you ranted to Lee at dinner, “Will is a kid and it sucks that you decided to exclude him.”

“Who’s ‘you’,” he inquired. “Clarisse was the brain behind everything. She’s the strategist.”

“And what are you? A plant? You were there when the strategy was being made,” you argued.

“But Will never said anything to me. It’s always been this way.”

“Well he told me, and I’m telling you. Please pass along this information if we ever get teamed up with the Ares cabin again,” you smiled.

“Sure,” Lee nodded. “You’re the boss.”

“‘m not,” you mumbled and kept on eating.

Lee was the Apollo cabin’s head counsellor. But really, you were his co-head counsellor. You have been at camp for a long time now, since the age of ten and you have always been a year-rounder at camp. But when the head counsellor spot freed up, you vouched for Lee. He wanted that position, he deserved it, and you agreed. But he always came for advice and your opinion.

Capture the Flag day finally arrived, and you were getting ready, putting your armour on. You picked your bow and slid it on your shoulder, before leaving your cabin. You joined your team – the red one – and everyone was there already. Clarisse stood tall and proud at the front, planting her spear next to her.

“Prisoners may be disarmed, but may not be bound or gagged,” Chiron announced – like every single time. “Killing or maiming is not allowed.”

“Much to my regret,” Dionysus mumbled. “So yeah, let the game begin or whatever.”

Clarisse turned around, waved her hand around and people were running to their assigned position. You were on flag duty. On top of the hill that had a perfect view of your flag. If you saw anyone from the opposite side you'd shoot explosive arrows to blind and confuse them for a second, so your team had time to disarm them before they could reach your flag.

You looked around, and spotted Michael and Lee. Chatting, and looking around. Moving on. Ares' kids were fighting some kids from the Hephaestus cabin. Logic. And then you spotted Clarisse. Walking alone through the forest. Probably to the other side where the blue flag was.

But then you also spotted a group of three Athena kids – blue team – following her closely. Clarisse wasn’t stupid, she probably knew about them following her.

“What are you watching?” someone asked, startling you.

“Will! What are you doing here?”

“There wasn’t anyone around the borders, so I came to help you. So what are you staring at?”

“Nothing,” you shrugged, going back to monitor your flag.

Will stared at you, huffed and went to look at what you were looking at.

“y/n?,” Will called for you.

“What?” you didn’t look at him.

“y/n!”

“What?” you gave him a quick glance.

“Something’s wrong.”

That caught your attention. You looked back at where Clarisse was. She seemed fine. The three Athena kids were no longer there though.

“What?”

“Don’t you see the trap?”

“What trap?” you frowned, looking more closely at where she stood.

It was a particularly sunny day. If your dad wasn’t Apollo, you’d be blinded by the sun rays. But your dad was Apollo, so you were doing great. And there it was. The trap. It was so bright, it was hard to spot it. And the Athena kids knew that. So when Clarisse walked over it, it was too late and something came flying toward her.

“What the hell?” you cursed before running down the hill. “Stay here,” you warned Will.

Before you left, you gave a quick glance back, and Clarisse was down, surely unconscious.

“Fuck.”

You sprinted towards where she was when you heard the emergency horn. The emergency horn that Chiron played at the start of every summer so campers would know what that sound meant. A warning for campers that the game stopped. When you reached Clarisse, Chiron and Mr D were already there. As well as most campers.

“What happened?” campers talked among themselves.

“Move!” you pushed the kids blocking you from reaching Clarisse.

Clarisse was bleeding from her forehead, and a metal stick was stuck in her left shoulder. It was overwhelming, people squeezing in to see what was going on, talking to each other. Even Chiron and Mr D couldn’t keep them in place. You kneeled beside Clarisse, trying to shield her from the campers, when you spotted one of the Athena kids that was following her earlier.

You stood swiftly, without leaving Clarisse unattended and grabbed his armour with both hands to bring him closer.

“You take another step toward Clarisse again and I’ll make sure you won’t ever, ever, see another healthy day again. I’ll make sure you and your brothers will wake everyday in pain wishing you were dead instead,” you cursed him.

You spoke in a low voice, but everyone heard. Just like that, everyone took a step back.

“y/n,” Chiron put his hand on your shoulder. “You’re needed in the infirmary, I’ll bring Clarisse there.”

You let him go, took your armour off and threw it on the ground before walking to the infirmary with your brothers close behind you. Michael had great healing skills too, so you’d need him. Will was learning so he stayed with you. Lee, as your head counsellor, also had to be here somehow.

“Can you really do that?” Will asked timidly. “Make them sick forever.”

“Apollo kids can inherit dad’s plague powers,” Lee stated. “But it’s rare, and never that powerful.”

Will stared at you, but you only stared at the door. Waiting for Chiron to arrive.

“Why are you so worried about Clarisse of all people,” Michael huffed.

Lee slapped his arm.

“What!” Michael rubbed his arm.

“Great to know that’s what you’d think if we were ever on the battlefield,” you noted, “choosing who to help and who can die.”

“That’s not what I said!” he shouted.

“Then why shouldn’t I be worried about an injured camper, who just happened to be Clarisse?” you shouted back.

Someone cleared their throat. You both stopped bickering. Chiron. He put Clarisse on the bed next to the window and stepped back so you and Michael could start working. You didn’t need to talk to know what to do. You trained together, as a team, for years, so everything was done flawlessly and quickly.

“She should be fine,” you announced, “I’ll stay and feed her ambrosia for the next few days and she should wake.”

“Great,” Chiron nodded, relieved. “Great work you two, as usual.”

They all left, except for Will and you both sat on the couch. You stared at Clarisse, with her head wrapped in a bandage, her shoulder too.

“She doesn’t look so scary now huh,” you said.

“No,” Will agreed. “So it really was the Athena cabin?”

“I don’t know, I mean I saw them. I don’t think Annabeth would’ve agreed to such a plan. As in a plan that’d almost kill their opponent in Capture the Flag. For a real quest, why not. But Capture the Flag?”

“What’s going to happen to those who pulled this stunt?”

“Well,” you sighed, “knowing Chiron, he’d probably just revoke their dessert privileges for two weeks instead of one. But I’m sure once she wakes up, she’ll know what to do.”

“Kill them?” Will ask, with a horrified expression.

“Maybe,” you shrugged.

Will left first, leaving you alone with Clarisse. You told him you’d join him later when dinner would come. You went to see Clarisse. The bandages were already soaked, so you carefully removed them. You carefully cleaned her wounds again before bandaging them again. You fed her a tiny amount of ambrosia before joining the rest of your siblings for dinner.

Before the feast could begin, Chiron gave a speech about how Capture the Flag wasn’t the place to settle personal accounts and that maiming and killing was forbidden. And how this time it went too far.

“I’ve talked to the head counsellor in question, and it will be taken seriously. There will be consequences, and I don’t ever want to see this happening ever again.”

Campers nodded along, and went back to their table. You devoured your food in no time, not forgetting to leave some for the offering. Then you rushed to shower and clean your face before running to the infirmary where you’d spend the next few nights.

“I really hope you’ll wake soon,” you told unconscious Clarisse. “I’m not used to having someone else in here.”

You walked around, putting things back where they’re supposed to, and walked back to where Clarisse was. Then you stood again, and sat.

“I’m crazy. A few hours with someone who doesn’t talk to me and I’m going insane,” you sighed. “Well, while we’re here, I have a few things to say, to get off my chest really,” you started your rant. “You know Will, my little brother. Well, Will is capable of holding his own, he can fight… maybe not your siblings, cause you’re all very, very, violent. But you don’t have to put him this far away each time you know, he notices.

“I’m saying,” you rested your back against the bed, “it could be different, you could come up with a different kind of strategy. It works for sure, you win a lot, but we could win in a different way also.

“You know I saw you,” you continued after a moment. “Being followed by these idiots. I thought you knew, and–,” you paused. “Ugh I should’ve tried to protect you. Warn you. It was my job. Why didn’t I think of that earlier? And it was hot as hell, you could’ve felt a little dizzy and I should’ve–”

“Shut up,” Clarisse wheezed.

You whipped around, standing up before backing away.

“Ar– Clarisse?” you whispered. “Are you feeling alright?” you walked to her.

Her eyes were still closed, she frowned and shook her head slightly.

“Waw, Ares kids are tougher than I thought,” you mumbled to yourself.

You went to grab some water and a straw, and sat next to Clarisse, on the bed.

“You should drink a bit.”

She opened her eyes, and stared at you, with a blank expression. You blinked, and smiled, holding up the straw to her mouth. You frowned when she refused to drink.

“Drinking water is good for you,” you added. “Please stop staring at me like you want to murder me.”

She rolled her eyes and drank everything before closing her eyes again, and turning her head on the other side.

“Well, I’ll be sleeping on this bed,” you pointed to the bed next to hers, “if you need anything, shout.”

Clarisse kept quiet, so you went to bed and fell asleep very quickly. Clarisse, on the other hand, could not fall asleep. She turned head around and looked at you. You clearly slept well, with your mouth slightly opened. After a few minutes of staring outside the window, her stomach growled. She needed to eat.

There had to be food in here – she looked around and spotted a basket full of fruits and cake. That’ll do. She gathered all her strength and tried to push herself up using her left arm and yelped in pain. That woke you up.

“What’s wrong?” you worried.

“Nothing,” Clarisse panted, biting her lips.

You rushed to her and saw her shoulder was bleeding again.

“What happened?” you worried, turning the lights on.

You grabbed clean bandages, and a clean towel with some alcohol and rushed back to her. Clarisse somehow managed to sit up, her right arm holding onto where her left shoulder was stabbed.

“Don’t cover it,” you pushed her hand away.

You started to remove the blood soaked bandages when she grabbed your hand to stop you. You gave her a questioning look. Clarisse quickly let go of your hand and looked away, breathing slowly. You opened your mouth, but then closed it and resumed your work.

“What were you trying to do anyway?” you asked when the wound was clean.

“I was hungry.”

“I–, I mean I did say to shout if you needed me but I was not thinking a pained scream with you bleeding again. Just a ‘hey y/n bring me food’ would’ve suffice. I would’ve been up. And that’s done. Good as new.”

Clarisse was still looking away from you which hid her head wound. When she turned her head toward you, you raised your hand to touch her face, but she flinched away hard at your sudden movement. You froze, too afraid to move again. No one talked or dared to breathe – the silence became heavy. Clarisse opened her eyes, and stared at you. She took your hand in hers and put it down.

“I–,” you breathed, “I was just going to check your head wound,” you murmured.

“Go ahead then,” she sat straighter.

You raised your hands slower this time, and tilted her head. You tore off her bandage and put it back in place. Clarisse could hear her heartbeat pacing up. Her mind and body stopped functioning. What was happening? She kept thinking about how your hands felt so warm in the night breeze, and how pretty you looked so close. Then when you dropped your hands, she came back to reality.

“Your face is still good. Like always,” and gave her a small smile.

“I’ll go eat,” she blurted out before leaving bed.

“Oh– okay. I can go to the kitchen and bring other things if you want.”

“No it’s fine,” she brushed you off, focused on the fruits in front of her.

Which was hard with you so close behind her. You watched Clarisse eat the strawberries and blueberries and grapes, and then you grabbed an orange and started to peel it. Once you were done you handed it to her. She grabbed it slowly and whispered a low thank you before eating it. Clarisse also ate half of the cake Katie brought to you earlier.

“Demeter kids, am I right,” you ate with her, “I don't know what they put in their cakes but I could eat them everyday. You should rest now,” you put your hand on her right arm and squeezed it. “You can barely stand.”

This time when Clarisse closed her eyes, she fell asleep instantly. And so did you. The next morning, you were the first one up. As soon as the sun rose, you were ready to start your day. You went to your cabin and washed up before grabbing a new toothbrush for Clarisse. You changed your clothes, and then went to the Ares cabin. You opened the door, and no one was up yet. You spotted the only empty bunk bed – Clarisse had one for herself – and saw her drawer next to it. You grabbed a new pair of pants, and a new camp-half blood tee and left in a hurry. Clarisse was up by the time you came back.

“I brought some of your clothes so you could change,” you gave her the clothes and the toothbrush. “I did sneak into your cabin, but I didn’t look through your stuff, don't worry about that,” you smiled. “I mean, except for your clothes – sorry.”

“It’s fine.”

“Well, I’ll let you change and I’ll be… not here for sure. I’ll go get breakfast!”

Clarisse watched you walk away, humming to some songs and when you were out of her sight, she got out of bed to change and clean herself. All she could think about was what happened yesterday. What even happened yesterday?

Before yesterday, you never spoke. She knew your name and vaguely knew what you looked like, but that was it. Since she arrived at camp, she didn’t once step into the infirmary – she didn’t need to. But now, for some reason, all she could think about was you. And how warm and soft your hands felt, how nice it felt to have you touch her face like that.

By the time you came back, Clarisse went back to bed and laid down. You gave her what you brought and you ate together, picking off the same plate.

“How are you feeling this morning? Does it still hurt?” you pointed at her shoulder.

“I’m—,” she stopped. “It still hurts,” which was true. “A lot,” that wasn’t..

“Really?” you worried. “I thought you’d be doing fine, because you woke so early. I thought your body was healing faster than most campers. Well,” you picked a strawberry with your fork, “you’ll have to stay here longer then.”

“Can’t go against the doctor’s orders,” she shrugged.

“True,” you smiled. “You finish this,” you pushed the plate toward her, “I’ll go get some supplies to change this,” you gently patted her shoulder.

You rolled your chair away, and grabbed what you needed and rolled back to Clarisse. You hopped onto her bed, and started your routine. The wounds were healing perfectly fine, and very quickly, so it was odd that Clarisse was still in extreme pain.

“I don’t think these wounds will scar,” you said.

“A shame, they’d make me look tougher.”

“Look?” you huffed. “You don’t need those to look tougher, you already do. Scary even,” you joke, but not really. “I mean I’m not scared– anymore… but yeah, some people may say– think you do. Anyway, scar or not, you’ll always look and be the toughest.”

“Anymore?” she grinned. “Were you before?”

“I mean,” you dragged that last vowel, “I don’t think scared is the right word. More like– intimidated. I never went to these meetings for Capture the Flag because I knew if you disagreed or worse – dismissed my ideas – I would’ve cried.”

“I never would’ve done that,” she chuckled, “I don’t think you’re capable of having bad ideas. Lee’s constantly praising you and giving us your ideas that I always take into account.”

“Really?” you couldn’t stop your smile.

She shrugged, and nodded. You playfully slapped her on the shoulder – the left one – and she yelped in pain.

“What the hell!”

‘Sorry!” you backed away, “it was a reflex.”

Clarisse ended up staying in the infirmary with you for three whole days, but she couldn’t fake it anymore when the wound completely healed and it was as if nothing had happened. The day she left, you cleaned up the room and sat alone on the couch, just like before.

It was weird. Usually, you enjoyed the silence and solitude of the room, but now it was as if time had stopped. Every time you looked at the clock, it’d only been two minutes. And so were the next few days. Then on Friday, as usual, Lee came in to visit. You worked in silence – which was the first odd thing Lee noticed – then he saw how you always stared at the empty bed Clarisse used to stay in.

“You’re being weird,” he said.

“I’m not!”

“You’re never this quiet when I visit.”

“The past few days were a bit dry,” you explained casually.

“You can say you miss Clarisse, it’s fine,” he sat next to you on the couch.

“I–,” you sighed. “It’s just… I was getting used to having someone with me.”

“Well maybe you should spend less time here and more time outside with, mmh I don’t know, Clarisse maybe.”

“What if she doesn’t see me as a friend though? What if I’m imagining things? She hasn’t visited me once.”

“Then you come back here, and the end.”

“I hate you,” you groaned. “You’re no help to me at all!”

When the door suddenly flew open which startled both of you. You could recognise these hair anywhere.

“Clarisse?” you called her name.

She turned to face you, and a gasp came out of your mouth before rushing to her.

“What happened to your face?” you held her arms.

Clarisse had a nasty cut going from her eyebrow to her hairline. She stared at you without saying anything before turning her gaze to Lee, and he spurted out some excuses and then left. But before he closed the door, he gave you a knowing look saying ‘see, she’s here’.

“What happened?” you frowned.

“I don’t know,” she whispered. She cleared her throat. “These few days of rest weren’t a good idea I think.”

“That’s–,” you paused, “not accurate.”

But before she could reply, you grabbed her arm and dragged her to the other side of the room, and let her sit on the chair. You grabbed clean cotton and some alcohol and started to clean her wound. You stood closely to her, between her legs with her hands holding onto your thighs to stay steady.

“How did this happen anyway?” you asked.

“I was practising with my brothers.”

You frowned, and tried to step away but Clarisse was holding on tight to your thighs.

“You got beat up by your brothers?” you repeated with a raised eyebrow. “I have a hard time believing this. You’re just better than them,” you said casually before patching up her wound.

“Why do you know so much about my brothers’ skills?”

“I don’t! I know about yours. And from what I saw in the past, it’s always you leading the fight so I assumed that’s because you’re the best among them.”

“Mh,” she hummed, “well I guess you haven’t been doing your job very well if I’m not back to my old self yet,” she grinned.

“Or,” you grinned back, “maybe it’s your skills. I think they need a little sharpening. Maybe I could spare some time and teach you if you need.”

She suppressed a smile.

“Or, maybe you just want to spend time with me.”

You were close to each other, and Clarisse was still holding onto you. You crossed your arms, and stared at her. She was looking up at you, and you were looking down, which was a rare occurrence since she was much taller than you.

“I’m doing a favour to you at best. But if you don’t want to,” you sighed, “it’s–.”

“I do,” she affirmed.

That was the start of your friendship. Turns out Clarisse was really glad to hang out with someone that wasn’t her sibling. She was always the one seaking you out. At lunch, at dinner, during classes. All the time. Even when you were working, because somehow she always, always, ended up getting hurt.

One of the first times she came in after your friendship hangouts was for a sprained ankle. She came in limping, and threw herself on her – not really – bed, groaning.

“What happened?” you rushed to her side, worried. “You’re lucky I just came back in here!”

Clarisse didn’t want to admit this, but that was exactly why she was here. She was on her way to her cabin when she spotted you walking around with your sisters and she was so focused on you that she tripped and fell.

“I just fell,” she explained.

“You just fell,” you repeated slowly. “Right. Well lucky you because this,” you patted her leg, “will heal in no time with this,” you brought her some ambrosia.

“That’s it?” she asked.

“Yeah,” you smiled.

“Oh.”

Then the next time she came, like the next few ones, were always injuries that required you to clean up the wound, and then patch her up. It went from tiny cuts to ‘I have a bruise here’ then showing you her perfectly unbruised skin to serious injuries that she got during Capture the Flag.

“You know at this rate I feel like you’re doing this on purpose,” you joked when she came in for the umpteenth time. “What is it this time?”

She shrugged and sat on her designated bed, and laid down. You joined her and sat next to where her legs rested. She held up her hand and you took it before she dragged you to lay beside her. The beds in the infirmary weren’t big enough for two so you were half laying on Clarisse with her arm resting behind your head.

“Did you paint that?” she asked.

The ceiling was painted by the Apollo cabin, all together you decided on a design and painted it over weeks worth of work.

“Here,” you pointed at the top of the painting. “That was painted by me.”

“Two planets?”

“The moon and Saturn,” you smiled.

“Linked by a thread?”

“Yea, the red string of fate. It’s from Chinese mythology. The old lunar matchmaker god, who is in charge of marriages, would tie together two people with this red string of fate and they are destined to be together, to be lovers regardless of time, place or circumstances. And no matter what, that thread will never break. It can stretch or get tangled up, but it never breaks.”

“And what about the moon and Saturn then?” she frowned, confused.

“Because,” you paused. “Your braids like a pattern, love you to the moon and to Saturn,” you started to sing, “Passed down like folk songs, the love lasts so long.”

You turned your head to look at her only to see confusion on her face.

“Taylor Swift, seven,” you explained. “It’s great, we’ll have to listen to it someday.”

“Sure.”

“Really?” you looked at her excitedly.

“Yeah, you seem to like her so sure, I’ll listen with you,” she shrugged.

“Oh and that’s Will’s painting,” you showed her another corner. “That’s my dad and his lover, Hyacinthus. That’s where the name of the flower came from. Isn’t that kind of sweet how he named a flower after him.”

“I mean didn’t Apollo kill – by accident – Hyacinthus?” she grimaced.

“Or Zephyrus was so jealous of my dad that he killed his lover, because he couldn’t get no man. My dad is an excellent archer. His aim never failed him. I don’t see how it’s possible for him to kill his lover. But gods being petty over these kinds of things, that I can believe.”

Clarisse hummed in agreement.

“But enough about my father’s love life,” you shrugged, turning around to face Clarisse, “what about your dad? Still desperately trying to woo someone else’’s wife?”

“I don’t want to talk about my dad,” she yawned, then closed her eyes.

“Okay.”

Just as you were about to continue talking, you noticed that Clarisse had fallen asleep. It was still early in the afternoon so it was still bright outside. You looked around and started to get up so you could pull the curtains but Clarisse grabbed your arm to pull you closer to her, locking you in her arms.

“Don’t go,” she mumbled.

“Okay,” you whispered and stayed still.

The thing was, Clarisse was like a human radiator. Sleeping in her arms felt exactly like sleeping under tons of heavy blankets. This much warmth only resulted in falling asleep in Clarisse’s arms. When you woke, you were alone in bed.

“Slacking off during work hours,” Lee said standing next to you.

“Fuck!” you jumped off bed. “Why were you staring at me sleeping!” you screamed.

“You weren’t there and it’s almost time for dinner. I’m being a nice brother!” he shouted back.

“Oh. Well, thanks!” you yelled, and gave him a smile.

You both left to join your siblings at the dining pavilion, and once you sat at your usual spot, you scanned the room in search of Clarisse. She was at her table like usual, and eating in silence, head hanging low. Your tactic of staring at her wasn’t working even though you knew she knew that you were staring at her.

“What are you doing?” Lee kicked you with his elbow. “Did something happen with Clarisse?” he whispered.

You shook your head.

“I mean,” you leaned in whispering, “we did sleep together.”

Lee’s eyes widened, mouth wide open and he backed away in shock.

“You– you slept together? In the infirmary?”

“Not slept together,” you rolled your eyes, “she fell asleep and did I.”

“Ah.”

“Anyways, she left without saying anything,” you explained. “And now, I feel like she’s avoiding me.”

“It’s only been a few hours.”

“She’s avoiding me, I’ve been staring at her for at least fifteen minutes and nothing. Not a glance from her.”

“Okay creep. But once again, just talk to her. It would solve all your problems here.”

“She’s the one who doesn’t talk. I talk. A lot!”

“Trust me, I know. I just don’t think Ares kids are the best at talking, you know.”

“Fine.”

But as it turned out, Clarisse mastered the art of avoiding people – you – when she wanted to. Whenever you tried to talk to her, she would disappear. After a few days of trying, you gave up and told everything to Lee.

“If she doesn’t want anything to do with me, then fine by me,” you frowned, holding back your tears.

“I’m sure you’re overthinking this,” he tried to comfort you.

“Oh please,” you huffed. “You saw what happened this morning when I tried to talk to her. I’ll get over it,” you whispered. “I’ll get over her.”

Lee considered himself your best friend, and favourite brother. You never said these things, but he considered you his best friend and favourite sister. And as your best friend he had to do something, he had to talk to Clarisse and give her a piece of his mind. So that night, he was a man on a mission. He walked to the Ares cabin, and waited for Clarisse to either go or or go out.

“Clarisse!” he called her name when she finally left her cabin.

“What do you want, Fletcher?” Clarisse sighed, clearly annoyed.

“Oh, so you do speak. And here I thought you lost that ability,” he snickered.

“I will punch you in the face.”

Lee rolled his eyes and crossed his arms.

“I’m not scared, unlike you.”

“What–.”

“You’re scared to talk to y/n for whatever reason, and I need you to pluck up the courage to talk to her because you’re making her miserable by avoiding her.”

“I–,” she froze.

Was she making you miserable?

“You’re just doing your thing and going to her when you need, when you want but have you ever thought about what she was thinking? No. You would if you’d just listened to her, but no,” he made a big gesture, “avoiding her like the plague.”

“Why are you telling me this?” she mumbled, looking away.

“I’m telling you that you made a mistake, and if you continue down this path you’re going to lose her for good. I’m not saying this for you, because I couldn’t care less about you, but y/n is my sister and I want her to be happy and for some reason you are making her happy,” he rolled his eyes, “so do whatever you want with this information.”

Clarisse stood there, not saying anything, watching Lee walking away. But then he stopped and turned around to walk toward her again.

“Before I forget,” Lee added before throwing his strongest punch in her face. “For making my sister cry.”

And he ran away, before Clarisse could punch him back. But Clarisse was too busy thinking about you to think about Lee and what he just did. If it weren’t for that afternoon in the infirmary, she probably would’ve ran to you so you could take care of her, but now, she couldn’t. So she went to sleep, wishing that tomorrow it’ll be better.

You were one of the first campers to arrive for breakfast. You ate slowly, and by the time the dining pavilion was filled with campers, you were done. But you stayed and listened to your siblings talk. Just as you were about to leave, Clarisse came in and you dropped your fork in shock. She had a black eye and her cheek was bruised, with her nose in a weird shape. She looked at you, as you stood urgently. But then you froze – should you go to her? You sat back down, still staring at Clarisse.

“What happened to her?” Will whispered to you.

“I don’t know,” you whispered back.

“You don’t? I thought you were friends.”

“Yea, me too,” you sighed.

Clarisse was walking to her table, dragging her feet along and when she walked past the Apollo table, you stood and grabbed hand, forcing her to face you. When you noticed several heads staring at you, you dragged Clarisse away and brought her to the archery field.

“What happened to your face?” you held her face in your hands.

“Nothing,” she leaned into your touch.

“Clarisse,” you whispered. “Just talk to me please.”

“Lee came to have a little chat with me yesterday.”

“He did this?” you gasped.

“Yeah.”

You held your hand to your mouth, in shock and to hide a tiny part of you that wanted to laugh.

“And?” you asked.

“He said I was making you miserable.”

“That’s not true!” you insisted.

“I ignored you. And I shouldn't have. I don’t–” she hesitated, “want to lose you,” she mumbled.

“Then just talk to me, we’re friends too.”

“I– I don’t know,” she stepped back and took a deep breath. “I was confused! I– I don’t know I like it when you take care of me,” she admitted in a low voice. “I’m being weird and–.”

“You’re not,” you held her arms. “It’s not weird to love physical touch. I mean, I just assumed that it was your love language you know.”

“What?” she asked, confused.

“I think what you like is when I hold you or when I touch you because you love physical touch,” you began, “and you were doing everything to visit me, pretending to be a bad fighter and getting hurt on purpose.”

“No that’s no–,” she shook her head.

“It’s fine! My love language is quality time, and there’s nothing wrong—.”

“No it’s different–.”

“It’s not! It’s fi—.”

“It’s because I like you,” she blurted out.

Oh. You couldn’t help but smile at her confession.

“It’s not funny!” she huffed, crossing her arms.

“I’m not laughing! I’m… happy about this outcome,” you rested your head against her arms and looked up. “Because I like you too Clarisse.”

“Really?” she stared at you.

You nodded.

“I’m sorry about ignoring you,” she added.

“Mmh,” you smiled, “I accept your apology. But you’ll have to make it up to me.”

“Anything you want.”

“A kiss?”

Clarisse uncrossed her arms and held your face instead and leaned in to kiss you eagerly. And you happily gave in, wrapping your arms around her waist.

“Mmh, keep doing that and I’ll forgive you, no doubt.”

#clarisse la rue x reader #clarisse la rue fanfic #clarisse x you #clarisse la rue x y/n #clarisse la rue pjo #clarisse la rue fluff #clarisse la rue #pjo x reader #clarisse pjo #clarisse la rue x fem!reader

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hyperactively-me · 4 months

Note

Okay but king ghost if his queen was kidnapped or held for ransom?? I just want some protective ghost in my life

the way i had this idea planned for a while already, but anon, our brainwaves are connecting. i’ve gotten literally countless requests for this same idea. if you sent in a request similar to this, i’m so sorry, i wasn’t ignoring you, i've just had this planned for a while! (word count: 5.8k)

king!ghost x reader -- taken

warnings: kidnapping, physical fighting, physical injuries/blood/bruises, semi-vague descriptions of torture, torture tactics, throw up, restraints, heavy angst, i guess a happy ending? maybe??? idk 😭, ummmm idk what else... please please please let me know if there's anything i've missed. this is a dark chapter! check your media consumption based off the warnings!

It was a quiet night. Eerily quiet. The sounds of the summer insects ceased, the hot air still, unmoving. You were in bed, trying to sleep. You had no clue what time it was, all you knew is that you were hot and exhausted.

You roll onto your side, huffing as you throw the covers off your body. You close your eyes again, trying to will yourself to sleep.

A moment later, you hear a creak coming from the far side of the room where the doors to the balcony are.

You immediately sit up, scanning the room.

“Hello?” you call out, your voice wavering as you slip out of bed. You immediately grab your knife from the drawer of your bedside table, walking around the side of your bed to stare at your slightly ajar balcony door.

Your heart drops in your chest, but before you can say anything, a hand holding a rag clamps around your mouth. Soap was right outside your door. If you could just— Your scream is muffled as you try to fight off the intruder, swinging your knife back and hitting flesh, trying to stomp on their foot, kick them, anything. The intruder lets out a strangled cry from your stab, pulling your head back farther. You know you’ve made contact when you feel blood trickle down your hand. Serves them right for trying to kidnap you. The intruder wraps their arm around your torso, yanking you back as they shove the rag over your nose, forcing you to inhale the fumes.

Your movements become more sloppy as the fumes enter your nostrils, your eyes fluttering as you fight with everything in you to stay awake. Your knife clatters on the ground as you become limp.

“That’s it, go to sleep,” a man’s voice whispers in your ear, sending a cold chill throughout your body. And with that, you succumb to unconsciousness.

. . .

You wake up in a cold, damp cell. You go to rub your eyes, but are stopped by the clanking of metal chains. You look down, and your hands are bound together by heavy, metal manacles.

“What the—” you say, pulling at the restraints multiple times to no avail, the iron bolted into the wall to prevent you from running. “No, no, no no no—” you cry out, flailing as you try to free yourself from the cuffs. Your heart is racing in your chest, how could this happen? The overwhelming urge to cry washes over you, but you bite your lip to stop yourself.

Your body shivers at the low temperature of the cell, the stone keeping the cold air stale in your cell. You’re still in what you wore to bed which was…not much. You push yourself to standing, walking up to the bars of the cell, trying your best to peek out into the hallway.

The hallway is dimly lit, revealing the cold, unforgiving walls of what appears to be an underground dungeon of some sort. The air is cool, and the distant sound of footsteps echoes through the corridors. Panic tightens its grip on you as you assess your surroundings.

“Hey! Is anyone there?” you shout, your voice bouncing off the stone walls. There's no response, just the eerie silence of the place. You take a deep breath, fighting against the rising sense of despair.

As you peer down the hallway, you catch a glimpse of movement. Footsteps approach, and your heart races anew. A figure emerges from the shadows, wearing a uniform that tells you all you need to know. It’s a uniform from the Southern Kingdom. You back away from the bars, pressing your back up against the wall behind you.

“Your majesty,” the figure says, their voice devoid of any emotion. “You won’t be leaving anytime soon.”

Your mind races with questions, but the figure remains stoic, indifferent to you cowering in the corner. The reality of your situation sets in, and a mix of fear and frustration swirls within you.

“Who are you? Why am I here?” you demand, desperation lacing your words.

The person ignores your questions, producing a set of keys to unlock the cell door. The heavy door creaks open, revealing a corridor lined with more cells. The person steps inside the cell, much to your dismay. Your breathing picks up as he steps towards you, afraid of retaliation. Instead, he makes his way towards the wall where your manacles are attached. With a key, he releases the chain from the wall and takes it in his grip. Shortening the length of the chain, he yanks on it, causing you to stumble forward.

“Walk,” he commands, basically dragging you behind him out of your cell. You contemplate pulling against him, but not before you spot the sword on his hip. Without further thought, you lunge forward, pushing the man to the ground in front of you as you reach for his sword with your bound hands.

The man grunts as he hits the cold, stone floor. Seizing the opportunity, you manage to grab the hilt of his sword with your restrained hands, the metal feeling cold against your skin. Adrenaline surges through you as you pull the sword free from its scabbard.

Without a moment’s hesitation, you point the weapon at the man. “Who are you? Why am I here?” you demand again, your voice trembling with fear and anger.

The man on the floor looks up at you, a hint of surprise crossing his face. Despite the advantage of the sword in your hands, he doesn’t seem intimidated in the slightest. The nonchalant look on his face makes you even angrier, and you don’t hesitate pressing the tip of the sword against his shoulder. “You won’t find answers by waving that around,” he states calmly.

Before you can react, the man kicks you out from under your feet, causing you to drop the sword as your hands instinctively go to catch yourself – that is, catch yourself the best cuffed hands can.

You hit the ground hard, the impact jarring through your body. Groaning, you roll onto your side, the cold stones digging into your skin, surely leaving a bruise where you fell. The man swiftly rises to his feet, his expression unchanged.

“Come along, now,” he says as he yanks the chains, completely unbothered.

You struggle to your feet, the manacles limiting your movements. Glaring at the man, you reluctantly follow as he leads you through the labyrinthine corridors of the underground dungeon. The man, seemingly unfazed, leads you through the dark, winding corridors of the underground dungeon. The chill in the air makes you shiver, both from the cold and the anxiety that tightens your chest.

As you walk, you try to gather your thoughts. How did you end up in the hands of the Southern Kingdom? How did the man breach the castle walls and enter your bedroom? How long have you been gone? Where are you? Where is Simon? Johnny? The questions swirl in your mind, but the stoic silence of your captor offers no answers.

The dimly lit passageways seem endless, twisting and turning without rhyme or reason. Eventually, you arrive at a heavy, iron door guarded by two Southern Kingdom soldiers. They exchange a nod with your captor, who proceeds to unlock the door. It creaks open, revealing a dimly lit room.

The room is adorned with flickering torches, casting dancing shadows on the stone walls. A wooden table sits in the center, surrounded by a few mismatched chairs. You notice there’s a guard standing watch in the corner of the room, and two other people sitting in chairs, most likely waiting for your arrival. The air is thick with tension as you’re pushed into one of the chairs.

“Watch it,” you growl, slightly folding into yourself in the chair.

The figure steps back, motioning to the other two people in the room. One of them is wearing a mask that conceals their features, leaving only their cold, calculating eyes visible. You try to read any emotion in their eyes, but they remain expressionless.

“Who are you, and why am I here?” you demand for the third time, your voice wavering between defiance and desperation. You look between the three people, anger bubbling up within you.

The man who brought you here remains silent for a moment, studying you with an unsettling intensity. Finally, he speaks, his words measured and devoid of any warmth. “You wouldn’t have gone with us willingly, so I am sorry you have to be here this way.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes.

The figure’s eyes narrow at your display of defiance. “Your insolence won't change your circumstances.”

You move to stand up from the chair, but you’re pushed back down by the guard lingering in the room. “We’d appreciate it if you didn’t resist.”

You stare at him, the glare still plainly visible on your face. He seems satisfied enough with your cooperation.

“Now, you’re here because your kingdom has assets and resources we need. Your husband, the great King Ghost, won’t give up easily, but we have leverage now, don’t we?”

You should’ve known.

A chill runs down your spine. You clench your fists, frustration and fear fueling your determination.

“Tell me what you want,” you demand, your voice firm despite the tension in the room.

The figure leans forward, resting their hands on the table, their face just inches from yours. “Your cooperation, your majesty. Tell us what you know, and we won’t hurt you.”

Your blood runs cold at that. Hurt you? Now that caught your attention.

You raise an eyebrow. “So, what? You plan to use me as a bargaining chip to force Ghost’s hand?”

“Yes. You’re one of his only weaknesses,” says the man who hasn’t spoken until now. “Ever since you sent your reinforcements, our army has been experiencing some… setbacks. We were going to come to this as a last resort, but the time came to use you in our strategy.”

He’s rolling up his sleeves with care, pulling some intimidating tools out of the drawer of the table.

He notices you eyeing the tools warily. “Oh, don’t worry. We won’t be using these unless you really won’t listen.”

“And, just a brief mention before we start the questioning, you should really do more thorough background checks on your staff. You were given over to us by one of your own. Within the palace, might I add.”

With a swift motion, the man wearing the mask pulls it off their head, revealing a face you didn’t expect. It's someone you recognize, someone from your own court—an advisor you thought was loyal, someone who had been with you especially over the past few weeks.

“Edmund?” you gasp, disbelief and betrayal coloring your voice. “How could you?”

Edmund avoids your gaze, his eyes fixed on the table. “It was never personal, your majesty. The Southern Kingdom made an offer, and I couldn’t refuse.”

You seethe with anger, feeling the weight of the situation pressing down on you. “Greater good? Kidnapping me in the middle of the night? Betraying me? What greater good could possibly justify this?”

He shrugs. “Money.”

With that, Edmund slinks out of the room.

The word echoes through the room, leaving a bitter taste in your mouth. Money. The one thing that could corrupt even the seemingly loyal. Edmund’s betrayal stings deeper than any blade, and you struggle to comprehend how someone you trusted could sell you out.

“Cooperate, and you won’t have to endure unnecessary pain,” one of the men states coldly, motioning to the tools.

Your eyes narrow at the proposition. “And if I refuse?”

A hand slaps your cheek, the sharp sound echoing through the room. “Refusing won't make this any easier for you.”

Your cheek throbs from the slap, but you meet his gaze defiantly. You won’t give them the satisfaction of seeing you break. You can’t.

The man with the tools takes a step forward, his gaze fixed on you like a predator closing in on its prey. “We can do this the easy way or the hard way. The choice is yours.”

You glance at the guard, a mixture of anger and disappointment in your eyes.

“Now, let’s start with something simple. Kastron’s silver supply. Where is it located?” he demands, his patience wearing thin. “Start talking, little princess.”

. . .

You’re not sure how long it’s been since you were dragged into this interrogation room, but all you know is that your body positively aches. You were treated relentlessly, punched to your gut and slapped at the expense of one of your captor’s short tempers. Thankfully they haven’t used the tools on you, but you can’t help but be weary of them. Your body slumps in the chair, pain radiating from your abdomen. The cold, harsh reality of your situation weighs heavily on your shoulders. Sweat beads on your forehead, a mixture of fear and physical exertion.

The interrogators stand around you, unsatisfied with the information you've provided so far. The room feels suffocating, the air thick with tension and the acrid scent of burning torches.

“Last chance,” he sneers, the coldness in his eyes sending shivers down your spine.

You grit your teeth, your jaw aching from the force of their blows. The loyalty to your kingdom surges within you. You won't betray your people, no matter the cost.

“I won’t... betray... Kastron,” you manage to spit out, defiance in your eyes.

The interrogator scowls, and without warning, delivers another brutal blow to your stomach. The pain is unbearable, and you gasp for breath.

“Stubborn little thing, aren’t you?” the man with the tools taunts, a sadistic grin on his face.

As the interrogators prepare for another round of questioning, the heavy door to the room swings open. A new figure enters, their silhouette backlit by the torchlight. The men exchange glances, a hint of surprise in their eyes.

“Alright, that is enough for today,” a commanding voice echoes through the room.

The figure steps forward, revealing a man, dressed in military attire. His eyes are stern and hold no compassion.

“Release her,” he orders, her voice brooking no argument.

The interrogators, albeit reluctantly, step back. The guard unlocks your restraints, and you slump forward, breathing heavily.

The man turns to the interrogators, his expression stern. “That’s enough, you may go.”

The two men scowl but don’t argue. They exit the room, leaving you alone with the mysterious man.

He turns to you, his gaze assessing. “You’ve endured more than necessary. My apologies.”

“You’re not sorry. Go straight to hell,” you spit.

The man’s stern expression falters for a moment, but he quickly regains his composure. “I understand your anger, but I’m here to explain to you what’s going on. I’m General Shepherd. I lead the Southern Kingdom’s military.”

You’re silent. You recognize the name from a few brief mentions around the castle whilst receiving intel about the war, but you’ve never seen him before.

“We’re not here to hurt you—”

You glare at him, still seething with anger and distrust. “Do you hear yourself? What the fuck are you talking about, when I’ve been kidnapped and tortured? Why should I hear anything you have to say?”

Shepherd grabs your jaw harshly, fingers squeezing your cheeks. You claw at his wrist gripping your face, but he doesn’t let go.

“If you would listen to what I’m telling you, then you wouldn’t be sitting in this room. Don’t wear my patience thin, your majesty.”

His words are sharp, and you can feel the intensity in his grip on your jaw. Shepherd releases you, allowing you to lean back into the chair. You shoot him a venomous look, but he seems unfazed.

“Your husband, King Ghost, has been a thorn in our side for far too long. Quite the nuisance. The war between our kingdoms has dragged on, costing our side quite a lot. We need a resolution, and we need it soon,” Shepherd explains, his gaze locking onto yours.

“So, what? You think kidnapping me and torturing me is going to make Ghost surrender?” you scoff, annoyance evident in your voice. “He won’t surrender, if that’s what you want. He’s going to fight back harder, and you’re going to wish you never had me here.”

“Still, it’s a means to an end. A desperate attempt to force his hand,” Shepherd replies, frustration in his voice. “We have leverage now, and we plan to use it to bring about a swift end to Kastron’s military. We’re not heartless, your majesty. We aim to minimize bloodshed.”

You can’t help but laugh bitterly. “Minimize bloodshed? By kidnapping me and using me as a bargaining tool? Very noble and humanitarian of you.”

Shepherd narrows his eyes, but he doesn’t respond to your sarcasm. “Your husband won’t let harm come to you. He'll do whatever it takes to secure your safety.”

“He’s not going to surrender,” you mutter under your breath. He’s going to do much, much worse than anyone could ever imagine.

“He will. This war has dragged on for too long. We need a resolution, and we need it now,” Shepherd emphasizes, his tone stern.

Your mind races, considering the weight of the situation. You hate Shepherd for this, subjecting you to a cruel game that you never wanted to be part of in the first place. It wasn’t even Kastron that started this war, it was the Southern Kingdom. The hypocrisy of the Southern Kingdom and unjust treatment of your own kingdom has driven you up the wall. You think about your people, your kingdom, and the lives at stake.

Your gaze pierces through Shepherd’s cold exterior.

Shepherd sighs, as if he anticipated your skepticism. “You don’t have to trust me. But you should consider the bigger picture. Your cooperation can save lives, including your own.”

A conflicted expression crosses your face. The idea of cooperating with your captors goes against every instinct, but the desire for an end to the war lingers in the back of your mind. You weigh your options, knowing that every decision carries significant consequences.

“What do you expect from me?” you ask, your voice steady despite the turmoil within.

Shepherd studies you for a moment before responding, “Information. Insight into Kastron's military strategies, resources, weaknesses. Anything that can expedite the end of the war and give Kastron over to us.”

You laugh humorlessly. “See, that’s exactly what I don’t want.”

Shepherd’s gaze remains unwavering. “Your wants are not the priority here. The fate of your kingdom is on your shoulders. If you truly care about your people and your husband, you’ll consider the bigger picture.”

Your jaw clenches, frustration boiling within you. You know Shepherd is partially right, but the resentment toward the Southern Kingdom clouds your judgment. You take a deep breath, attempting to push aside your anger.

“What guarantee do I have that you won’t just use me and murder me when it’s convenient?” you challenge, searching for any sign of honesty in Shepherd’s eyes.

He leans in, his expression serious. “My word. Betraying the terms of our agreement would not serve the interests of either of our kingdoms.”

Agreement, you scoff inside your head. As if I had any choice in the first place.

You find his words hard to believe. The events leading up to this point have shattered your trust in anyone associated with the Southern Kingdom. However, you can’t deny the urgency of the situation.

You decide to not say anything. Shepherd nods, seemingly satisfied with your response. “All we ask is that you provide us with information. I’ll give you time to think this over.”

Shepherd motions for you to stand, and you do so with a glare. Your body protests, every movement sending pain coursing through you. He leads you out of the room, the guards following closely behind. The dimly lit corridors of the underground dungeon stretch ahead, and you realize that you’re not being taken to the same cell you were initially in.

Eventually, you arrive at a somewhat more comfortable room. It's still a cell, cold iron bars keeping you prisoner, but there's a cot and a small table.

Shepherd removes the manacles from your wrists, allowing you to rub your raw skin.

“I’m going to leave these off. Don’t get smart.”

The heavy door clanks shut behind you, finally leaving you alone with your thoughts. A guard stands watch outside your cell, giving you no privacy.

The reality of your situation settles in, and you can't help but feel powerlessness. The fate of Kastron rests, in part, on your shoulders. You sit on the cot, your mind racing with questions and uncertainties.

As you ponder the road ahead of you, a small opening in the door slides open, and a guard hands you a meager meal. The gesture is cold, impersonal, but you accept it nonetheless. The guard retreats, leaving you alone again.

The hours pass slowly in the dimly lit cell. You wrestle with conflicting emotions—anger, fear, determination. The echoes of Shepherd’s words linger in your mind, and you can’t help but have doubts in your mind. Would Simon come rescue you? Or would you have to escape on your own? You don’t even know where you are being kept. Your thoughts flicker to Kastron, what Johnny must be doing right now. Surely they’re looking for you.

As the torches flicker and the dungeon remains shrouded in darkness, you brace yourself for the challenges that will come with tomorrow. Shepherd needs your cooperation, and you’re not going to give it to him, no matter the cost. The journey ahead is uncertain, but one thing is clear—you will not surrender easily, and the fight for Kastron is far from over.

. . .

The next two days, you’re dragged back to the same room for interrogation. Again, you refuse to speak, each blow raining down harder on you. Your nose was bloodied, face battered and red, and ribs surely bruised from the blows. You’ve been in a perpetual state of fight or flight, adrenaline and pain racking your body in devastating amounts. You were plain exhausted, body reaching its limit.

But you didn’t really care. You wanted to keep Kastron and Simon safe, so you stayed silent. Save for your screams of pain.

On the third night, you found yourself alone in the dungeons. It was unusual, as there was usually a guard in place to make sure you didn’t do anything out of line.

You move to the iron bars, trying your best to peek both ways before pulling out a stolen fork from one of your meals. The metal of the fork feels strangely empowering in your hands as you work on the lock. The dim light in the dungeon barely illuminates your surroundings, but you're determined to seize any opportunity for escape. The occasional distant sound of footsteps echoes through the corridor, reminding you of the ever-present threat of getting caught.

As you manipulate the lock with the makeshift tool, you can’t shake off the nagging feeling that this might be a setup. Perhaps Shepherd or someone else in the Southern Kingdom’s monarchy is testing your resolve, observing whether you’d take advantage of a momentary lapse in surveillance. You can’t bring yourself to care that much.

The lock finally clicks, and the cell door creaks open. You hesitate for a moment, listening intently for any signs of approaching footsteps. The dungeon remains eerily quiet. Slipping the fork into your clothing, you step out cautiously, avoiding the patches of cold, damp floor. Your battered body protests with every movement, but the urgency of your situation fuels your determination.

You move silently, keenly aware that any noise could betray your escape. The cool air sends shivers down your spine as you head towards the direction you’re taken in for interrogation. It’s a risky venture, and most likely a stupid venture, but you don’t want to be holed up in this godforsaken hell hole for much longer.

After what feels like an eternity, you reach a heavy, iron door. It's slightly ajar, revealing a sliver of dim light from the other side. Your heart pounds in your chest as you inch it open, revealing a narrow staircase leading upward. The ascent is slow and agonizing, each step a reminder of the physical toll the past days of torture have taken on your body. You wince with each step, taking deep, steadying breaths. As you approach the top, you hear hushed voices and the occasional clank of armor.

Peeking through the crack in the door, you spot a guard stationed at the top of the stairs, seemingly engrossed in conversation with another. Their attention is diverted, providing you with a small window of opportunity.

Summoning the last reserves of your strength, you push the door open just enough to slip through without making a sound. The corridor beyond is dimly lit, and you stick to the shadows, hugging the cold stone wall. Pressing yourself against the wall, you listen carefully to the conversations around you, trying to piece together an escape route. Your gaze falls upon an entryway that has the last hints of the sunset pouring through the crevices.

You reach the entryway, and a sense of trepidation washes over you. Before you could push open the door and make a run for it, a hand grabs your upper arm. Without hesitation, you clench your fork in your hand and stab the perpetrator with the prongs.

The guard lets out a pained scream as your makeshift weapon finds its mark. They release their grip on your arm, stumbling back in pain.

“You bitch!” They cry, and a few more guards appear on the scene after hearing their scream.

Adrenaline courses through your veins as you realize that your window of escape is rapidly closing. Without waiting any further, you burst through the entryway, darting into the fading light of the setting sun.

You bolt as fast as you can across the cobblestones, the sounds of yelling guards and footsteps hot on your tail. Every step makes it feel as though fire is shooting up your body, but you push through. Just as you think you’re about to make a clean getaway into the forest outside the bunker, you’re side tackled to the ground.

The impact is brutal, and pain shoots through your battered body as you collide with the hard ground. The guards quickly swarm around you, their faces contorted with anger. One of them wrestles the stolen fork from your hand, while the others pin you down, restraining your limbs.

“Bloody rebel,” one of the guards snarls, spittle flying as they speak.

“Get the fuck– off of me!” you scream, trying to swipe and hit at anyone in your reach.

Your attempt at escape only intensifies their aggression. The guard you wounded with the fork clutches their side, a seething expression of pain etched across their face.

The leader of the guards, a stern-faced man with a scar running across his cheek, steps forward. “Thought you could just waltz out of here, did ya?”

He delivers a swift kick to your ribs, making you howl in pain. The guards show no mercy as they haul you to your feet. You go deadweight in their grasp, making it harder for them to drag you back to your cell. When they manage to pull you halfway back to your cell, you start kicking and screaming again, not wanting to make this easy for them.

“Fuck all of you, let go of me!” you scream, trying to yank your wrists from their grasp.

“Shut the fuck up,” a guard yells at you, digging their fingernails into your wrist.

As you're thrown back into your dark, dank cell, the manacles are back on, alongside chains on each ankle. The heavy door clangs shut behind you, and the bitter taste of defeat settles in your mouth. Two guards now stand outside your cell, watching you intently.

A few minutes go by, and General Shepherd strides into the hallway. His eyes, devoid of warmth, fixate on your battered form.

“Leave us,” his voice commands, and the guards retreat from the dungeon.

He stands just outside the iron bars, his gaze cold and calculating.

“You’re a persistent one,” he remarks, his tone devoid of empathy.

Despite your battered state, you summon what strength remains within you and glare defiantly at Shepherd.

You glare at him, defiance burning despite the exhaustion. “Fuck off.”

He doesn’t say anything, which enrages you.

“I said, fuck. Off. Leave me alone!” you yell. Shepherd's stoic expression doesn’t waver. Instead, he observes you with an unsettling calmness that sends shivers down your spine. The silence stretches, and you can feel the weight of his gaze.

Finally, he speaks, his voice low and measured. “You have spirit, I'll give you that. But it's time to realize the futility of your resistance. It’s been nearly four days. More than half a week. I don’t have the time or patience to keep you around.”

“I’ll never bow to the likes of you,” you retort.

Shepherd sighs, almost as if he’s disappointed. “You’re not seeing the bigger picture here. Your defiance only prolongs the suffering. Kastron can have peace, Ghost won’t have to face such difficult decisions. All we need is your cooperation.”

“I’d rather die,” you spit out, every word laced with venom. “And I don’t think Ghost would appreciate it if I turned up dead. You think he’ll surrender just because you beat me to a pulp? Think again. He’s coming to get me any day now, but that doesn’t mean he’ll show you mercy or pull back the troops. You’ll see. And you’ll be sorry you even looked at Kastron’s borders.”

His gaze doesn’t falter. “Perhaps. But, death is a choice, too. And it’s not just your life at stake, is it? There’s a kingdom relying on your decisions.”

You clench your fists, the chains rattling with your restrained anger. “I won't betray my people for your false promises.”

Shepherd leans against the cold stone wall, crossing his arms. “Think about it. Reflect on where you are right now. I’ll be back tomorrow, bright and early. I hope you’ll have come to your senses by then.”

Without waiting for your response, he turns and leaves the dungeon, the heavy door slamming shut behind him. Alone in the cold darkness, you curl up on the cot as best you can given the heavy chains.

. . .

Shepherd keeps his promise, returning in the morning.

“Well?” he prompts, a hint of impatience in his tone.

You meet his gaze with defiance. “Go. To. Hell.”

His expression remains unreadable. “Very well. You’ve made your choice.”

You’re dragged back to the interrogation room, only this time you’re silent.

You’re met with the tools set right in front of your chair, and a scary looking person you’ve never seen before.

As you’re restrained to a chair, your eyes glaze over.

For once in your life, you’re quiet. No snarky comments, no sharp words. You’re silent.

Because you’re truly afraid.

. . .

The metallic scent of blood fills the air. You don’t think you’ve ever lost as much blood in your life.

The room is spinning, and your body feels detached from your consciousness. The pain, once sharp and immediate, has dulled into a throbbing ache that permeates every fiber of your being. The interrogator’s methods have taken a drastic toll, and you’re teetering on the edge of consciousness.

You think your wrist is sprained, if not broken. You glance down at it, the swollen and bruised flesh causing your stomach to churn. You definitely look worse for wear right now.

Eventually, they tire of their methods, leaving you slumped in the chair, bloodied and broken. The tools they used on you lie abandoned on a nearby table. Every movement, no matter how slight, sends waves of pain through your form.

As the interrogator steps away, their job seemingly done, a faint groan pushes past your split upper lip. The throbbing in your head matches the rhythm of your heartbeat, each pulse amplifying the pain. Your vision swims, and you struggle to keep your eyes open.

Shepherd approaches, crouching to meet your gaze.

“I had hoped you would see reason," he says, almost conversationally. “The pain will continue until you cooperate.”

You manage a hoarse chuckle, the sound more bitter than amused. “Sorry I can’t be of use to you.”

He straightens, his gaze unwavering. “I have all the time in the world. You however… I’m not so sure. I suggest you reconsider. Your defiance harms not only you but those you claim to protect.”

With that, Shepherd turns and exits the room, motioning the guards to take you back to your cell.

The guards, their expressions cold and indifferent, unshackle you from the blood-stained chair. Your body protests as you’re hoisted up, pain shooting through every limb. They guide you out of the interrogation room, each step a painful shuffle. Your vision is blurring, and you lose your footing a few times. As they lead you back to your cell, you catch glimpses of other new prisoners, faces worn and defeated. The stench of dampness and decay fills your nostrils, and you throw up on the floor in front of you. You think some of it has traces of blood.

The guards show no reaction to your vomit, their faces remaining stoic and indifferent. You stumble forward, the world spinning around you, and your steps become increasingly unsteady.

The door to your cell creaks open, and you’re unceremoniously thrown inside. The manacles and chains are back on, securing you in the darkness. The guards, their duty done, exit without a word, leaving you alone with your pain.

You lie on the floor for who knows how long, focusing on your breathing and attempting to not fall asleep in the fear that you won’t wake up for a long time due to the severity of your injuries.

In, and out.

A few hours pass, and you manage to calm your swirling vision and headache. With a grunt, you pull yourself up to your cot with your good hand, dropping onto the solid mattress with a grunt.

You’re not sure how much longer you could go on like this. It was all too much.

As you lay there in the dimness of your cell, a distant noise catches your attention. Footsteps, echoing through the dungeon. At first, you dismiss it as another patrol, but the rhythm and urgency in the steps hinted at something different. A figure emerges in front of your bars, and you squeeze your eyes shut, bracing yourself for the return of the guards or another round of interrogation.

To your surprise, a familiar voice cut through the silence.

“Dove?”

- - - - -

(masterlist)

#simon ghost riley x reader #ghost x reader #simon riley x reader #simon ghost x you #simon ghost x reader #simon riley x you #simon ghost riley x you #simon “ghost” riley x reader #simon “ghost” riley x you #hyperactivelyme

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missglaskin · 1 year

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Yan!HOTD CHARACTERS MEETING THEIR SOULMATES

All thanks to @the-mechanical-angel for the idea & credit for prompts to @r-evolve-art

Viserys Targaryen + Meeting soulmate in dream every night

He was always looking forward to his dreams, looking forward to you. Initially, he believed it might have been one of his visions, one that somewhat always involved you. But he came to understand there were more than just visions.

Whether you two were lying in a flower field or strolling along the beach, Viserys loved the conversations and times he shared with you. The moment he opened his eyes in the mornings caused his desire for you to swell with each passing day. In the dreams, he begged you to tell him where you are, willing to sail to the end of the world just to see you.

The intensity increased when he assumed the throne and realized that you were the only person with whom he felt at peace. The king was allegedly never to be awakened from his sleep by the servants. When there came a day, he looked up across the court and saw you. The lord and ladies all stare in surprise as the king leaves his throne to approach you, cradling your face in his hands, becoming teary-eyed.

Rhaenyra Targaryen + Sharing the same injuries as your soulmate

Your father brought you along to the coronation ceremony of King Viserys where named his daughter Rhaenyra as his heir. Your father decided to spend a few days at King’s landing, leaving you free to explore the castle. It’s there you could truly meet the princess and befriended her.

During your many walks together, you trip scraping your knees only to hear the princess wince in pain as she lifts her dress, revealing a scrape on her knee. Could it be. It was expected that your soulmate would be a man.

The princess and you exchange a look before she presses her nail into her knee, making you flinch. This all confirms it. You weren’t sure how she would respond, but you weren’t certainly expecting her to reach for your hand, a smile showing on her eager face. Rhaenyra told your father that you’ll be staying at King’s Landing with her from now on. Her father agrees, happy that his daughter made a new ‘friend’.

Daemon Targaryen + Sharing your soulmate’s emotions

You came to the conclusion your soulmate must be quite a violent person, often feeling their strong emotions-their bloodlust and rage, which left you feeling all the more frustrated. Daemon could feel your frustrations and it left him amused. With you, there was much more happiness in the air. Giving him a taste of what inner peace might be like.

Sitting among your family during the tourney. You felt it. The adrenaline, the unbridled excitement of your soulmate. But this time, the feelings were much stronger that it almost made you feel queasy. It's when the rogue prince comes riding on his horse wearing his black armor, do you make eye contact.

And at that moment, you're sure he knows it's you. Sinking back further into your seat as the rogue prince gives you a smirk. Feeling your chest tighten as his horse got closer to you. His lance is right in front of you and he asks for your favor. And you do it all while he can sense your giddiness. Returning to your seat, you are well aware this isn't the last you'll see of Daemon.

Corlys Velaryon + Soulmate has a constellation that points to where they’re

During his nine sea voyages, Corlys was said to return with countless treasures. Silk, jade, spice, ships, gold and so much more. But upon his return from Essos, he was said to have returned with what he told to be far more valuable than any of his treasure. When he returned, he had a princess by his side—who now is his wife.

Corlys knew what he wanted. And he set out to pursue it. He observed the constellations in the night sky and learned that the brightest one pointed in the direction of where he needed to be. Upon his arrival to your kingdom, the sea snake requested your hand in marriage.

Once he had seen you. It had to be you. Corlys was certain. The sudden beat in his heart. An unseen string tugging him in your direction. And there, he gave you the most extravagant gifts with a ship big enough to carry half of a village, and a dress so plush that it felt sheer. And how could your father refuse upon seeing such devotion.

Rhaenys Targaryen + Touching your soulmate allows you to see glimpses of their future

Soulmates. Seemed like a ridiculous notion to Rhaenys. But perhaps that notion was needed. In this world soulmates rarely cross each other's paths. And if they did, it was not as happily as all those tales portrayed over and over again. But what were the chances she’d meet you on this particular day.

After arriving at King's Landing, you spent some time getting to formally know Rhaenys. Many times, having her over for tea. But once, your hands unintentionally brushed against hers. Rhaenys catches a fleeting glimpse. Her hair blown by the wind. Sensing the touch of another. The aroma of salt and seaweed. When the haze clears, a face so eerily similar is seen.

A cup breaking on the ground rouses her senses. A look of worry on your face. You can't help but ask if she's disappointed. Her expression, however, tells you otherwise.

Laena Velaryon + Sharing the same heart beat

At driftmark, you attended the wedding of Laenor and Rhaenyra. The entire ride, your heartbeat has been slightly racing. It continues to bother you, yet you ignore it. As the door opens, it starts pounding rapidly and intensely, almost flopping in your chest.

As you look at Lady Laena, you feel faint and short of breath. It seems she is also struggling, but her expression remains calm that perhaps you are only imagining things. All eyes are on her when she asks you for a dance. When your hand finally touches her, you feel as though you can breathe again. With each passing second, your body becomes more relaxed and at ease.

As the two of you danced, you tried to hide your awe in the face of her breathtaking beauty. When the dancing comes to a close, she whispers in your ear how she would love for you to spend a few days at Driftmark. There was no way you could refuse.

Otto Hightower + Meeting your soulmate after the worst event in your life

As any with common sense, Otto believed the concept of soulmates was utter nonsense. Believed duty to far more proceeds one’s desires and whims. And taking a wife who wasn't his soulmate-whom he loved deeply further solidified his convictions.

But all good things come to an end. Now left with the news of his wife's death. Days after, he still carried out his daily duties. That's when he finally took notice of you; a friend of Rhaenyra and Alicent. As soon you walk away, Otto notices his eyes start to follow.

Moments are spent where he'd ask you of your house or day, and soon the subject shifted to more personal manners. Right then and there, Otto understood his feelings, his gravitation towards you. You must not have known. Envisioning someone much more spirited and youthful. Surprise trickled through you when Otto announces his impending marriage and at the sight of Alicent's expression of betrayal.

Alicent Hightower + Soulmate marks are only visible after touching

In her younger years, Alicent found some solace in the prospect of soulmates, but that all changed when she was made to wed the king. Beginning to scoff at the notion, dismissing it as nothing more than a frivolous dream of little girls.

As she awakens in the morning, a new handmaiden greets her. The queen moves to stand as the handmaiden hastily dresses her. There, she felt fingers graze her skin. An intense stinging pain ran over her body, giving her skin a burning sensation. Holding her wrist. She sees it now. The mark.

A gasp is heard. The handmaiden grasping her own wrist. The implications cause the handmaiden's eyes to enlarge and her mouth to hang open. As they lock eyes, a knife-cutting silence permeates the chambers.

Aegon II Targaryen + A timer for when soulmates shall first meet

As far as Aegon is concerned, he couldn't care less whether he discovered a supposed soulmate—if they even existed in the first place. Looking at his wrist, the timer indicates a decade or possibly longer. And as he grew older, he became more detached to the prospect. Maybe not even his soulmate would have loved the man he came to be.

A day at the feast, however, Aegon's vacant eyes drifted to his wine cup. Where he saw it. His wrist. His head tilted downward, eyes narrowing when seeing the timer rapidly decrease. Has it been that long since he last looked. His wife speaks, but it is all muddled to him. Eyes glued to his wrist, watching it still go down.

He hears more wine being poured into his cup. And then it happens. 0-Inked on his wrist. Finally, Aegon lifts his head at the servant who had stopped pouring his wine, and the prince is met with a horrified look in return.

Helaena Targaryen + Voices in Your Head is your soulmate’s

As with her prophecies, Helaena's claims that she had a voice in her head were ignored. Servants have also claimed the princess is often seen smiling or humming to herself.

With Helaena as your soulmate, you come to find her mind constantly wanders, whether it be the ramblings of the many bugs she found or the cryptic messages. Although initially overstimulating, you've adapted to it. And she didn’t seem to mind when you did the same. Your voice is soothing. Was her response when you'd apologize for your mental babbling.

As long as she could still hear your voice in her head, the princess wasn't too concerned about finding you. But all of that changed when first saw you at her court. Her face softened, and her family had never seen her so delighted. And now, you spend most of your time in her chambers when her husband is away.

Aemond Targaryen + One eye is your natural color, the other is your soulmate’s

It was said the day the prince opened his eyes for the first time, only one violet eye was visible. Clearly seen in the other was his soulmate's eye. His eye will return to its natural color once he meets his soulmate, the master assured his mother. In this world, soulmates hardly ever cross paths. Still, young Aemond caught himself daydreaming about finding you-his other half.

Tragedy struck on the day Aemond claimed Vhagar. Gazing into the mirror with only a violet eye staring back at him. Throughout those years, he was persuaded that he no longer yearned for the dreams he once had. But that day when he first saw you.

There was a momentary expression of surprise. Recognizing the eye he once possessed, the other mirroring his only to return to its natural color. A puzzled look was cast at the one-eyed prince, making him realize you’re oblivious to what had just happened.

Criston Cole + Reflections in the mirrors are the appearances of your soulmate

As a young boy, Criston had placed a mirror that faced his bed, hoping to catch glimpses of you. You had to be the most beautiful creature he ever laid eyes on-his love, his soulmate, his other half. But his chest tightened when he took in your surroundings and the dress you wore. It told him you were much of a higher status-a lady. But the young idealistic Criston still believed the two of you were meant to be. Destined to be like the knights and their pretty ladies in all the tales he had heard.

Even as he matured into a man, Criston always carried a reflection with him at all times. In his pocket, a mirror was safely tucked away. He pulled it out to look at it, and there, in the palm of his hands, was his soulmate—the center of his universe.

So what a coincidence that he was competing in the tournament where your family must be. There, a knight approaches you with a house sigil you've never seen before; asking for your favor. He was quite handsome, and you couldn't help but feel a twinge of giddiness as you gave him a timid smile. When Criston emerged victorious, he requested one final favor. To be your sword shield. And you agreed, unaware of the consequences that would follow.

Harwin Strong + Touching your soulmate causes you to relieve each other’s entire lives

At Harrenhal for the visit, you came with your father. Keeping pace with him as they lead you on a tour throughout the castle. There, you first encountered Harwin and Larys Strong, Lyonel Strong's sons. When it was your turn to greet Larys, you greeted him, and when it was Harwin's turn, he took your hand and gave it a courteous kiss.

Then it took place. All sorts of scenes pop in front of your eyes, one of a baby being born, crawling, taking their first steps, and speaking. Watching him grow into a boy, learning to hunt and wield a sword. Everything comes to a close with you facing the man whose entire life you just saw. For everyone else, it lasted only a few seconds, but for you two, it lasted a lifetime.

With his hand still in yours, Harwin now gazes into your eyes. A gaze of longing. When your father asks what's the matter, you pull your hand away from his, reassuring him that it's nothing. Lionel gives you a knowing look. His son certainly won't allow you to leave after this.

Jacaerys Velaryon + Soulmate’s name on each other’s wrist

On his wrists, read your name. The prospect excited Jace. The idea of unwavering love, being one's other half. He'd study with the Septon intending to learn of other houses, asking them of their daughters. Perhaps he'd find you among them. Only to be left disappointed when your name was never mentioned.

Still, he remains hopeful. He knew his time was limited and that by now he must be betrothed. It's when his arrival at King's landing, did he hear something that perks up his ear as he walks across the hallways. Your name being uttered. Spoken by one of the servants. The said servants are taken aback when Jace approaches them like a madman, asking of the name. One of the servants steps forward. It's you.

The other servants are to leave, leaving just you and him. Reaching for your hand, he sees a cloth wrapped around your wrist. Removing it, he exhales heavily upon discovering his name inked on your skin. It's you. At last, he found you.

Cregan Stark + See color for the first time when you meet

The wolf of the north never bothered himself with the idea of seeking out a soul mate. More important than love or desire were one's duties. He has long since come to terms with the fact that the world he lived in will always be a shade of gray. When the princess and her brother, Jacaerys Velaryon, arrived on a dragon back.

Cregan’s protracted silence was recognized by everyone in the room. Wide eyes are fixed on the princess and she shares his expression. Colors suddenly flood into their world, and the two are suddenly overcome by the sensations that flooded their minds.

As she and her brother explain their arrival to the situation, the princess's voice is shaking as she still hasn't fully recovered from her recent overstimulation. There’s also a slight waver in Cregan’s voice as he speaks. As he pledged to fight for them, the princess swears she saw his eyes soften for a brief moment.

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carolperkinsexgirlfriend · 5 months

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Steddie Upside-Down AU Part 37

Part 1 Part 36

Between being poked and prodded by doctors, visitors trickle in. Hopper stops by, gruff as he claps Steve on the shoulder. Mrs. Byers pops in too; she hugs him gently, kissing his forehead with warm lips. Something inside of Steve burns.

His Mom doesn’t come. Neither does his Dad. Or Tommy and Carol. Steve wonders what it says about him that no one he knows comes by. From before. Before monsters and strangers made their homes in Steve’s life in equal measure

His life is thin. And everyone is holding it up to the fluorescent hospital lighting and looking right through it. Like his old Hawkins High basketball shirt from Freshman year, worn and washed enough to make the thread loose and thin everywhere but the seams – almost translucent. No one who knows him comes.

But Eddie never leaves his side.

He’s still there three days into Steve’s hospital stay when Nancy Wheeler shuffles in, Barbara Holland flanking her like a bodyguard.

Steve shuffles up in his bed, foisting himself up with the multiple pillows Eddie’d stacked behind him earlier. Barbara loiters in the door, light glinting off her glasses almost menacingly as she purses her lips and looks Steve up and down.

“Harrington,” she says, leaning against the wall with crossed arms.

“Holland,” Steve says, voice still croaky.

Eddie’s not saying anything, but he’s sitting up in his seat now, staring fixedly at Nancy as she does the same. Neither of them are blinking. He clutches the sheets tightly, wrong-footed.

“Glad you’re not dead,” Barbara says, ignoring whatever Eddie and Nancy have going on.

Steve nods, clearing his throat, looking down at his lap. He tries to run his fingers through his hair, and meets only stubbled skin. It’s just another nail in King Steve Harrington’s coffin. A week in that other place, and it’s hard to put him on, like a fancy suit. But now the suit’s for his own funeral, and he doesn’t know how to talk to anyone who isn’t Eddie or Will.

“I’m sorry about Tommy,” Steve says, blurts involuntarily in the silence. He hears Eddie shift, doesn’t look up from his lap to see how anyone else is reacting. “That wasn’t cool.”

He thinks of Tommy slinging the same curses at Barbara that his Dad slurs at the television screen when he’s three whiskeys deep. Thinks of Barbara’s nasty voice in the Upside-Down, hears her saying, maybe he’s off with his parents, like they’d ever take him anywhere.

Like they’d even realized he was missing.

“You’re not responsible for Tommy Hagain,” Barbara says, “I don’t give a fuck about Tommy Hagan. I care that you’re friends with such a piece of shit.”

Nancy lets out a sharp, reprimanding, “Barb!”

Barbara continues, ignoring her friend. “You don’t get a free pass because you tried to get eaten by a monster.”

Steve snorts, looking up at Barbara Holland, really looking at her for maybe the first time. Her jaws clenched, chin held high. She looks like she’s just as likely to deck him as help him with his homework. Tommy Hagain had shouted slurs at her back that could get her killed, lies or not, while Steve made excuses, and she’d still showed up in his hospital room before his best friend.

Steve looks Barbara in the eyes and says the only thing he can, “I’m sorry I didn’t say anything.”

Barbara squints at him judgmentally before rolling her eyes and taking a seat by Eddie’s side. “Whatever, Harrington,” she says, eyeing him critically. “How are the injuries?”

“I’m fine,” Steve says, ignoring Eddie’s scoff. “I’ll be out of here soon–”

“–with required physical therapy–” Eddie interrupts.

Steve plows on, “–and back to school in no time.”

“–after another week of bed rest.”

“Glad that’s all cleared up then,” Barbara says.

As if Eddie’s attention finally being away from her has made her bolder, Nancy shuffles her way closer, sitting on the foot of Steve’s bed. Everyone else goes quiet. Barbara’s eyebrows are raised as she looks over at her friend, and Eddie looks one second away from lunging out of his chair and ripping out her throat. Clearly, something had happened while he’d been away.

“Steve?” Nancy says, shoulders back, chin raised, as she finally meets Steve’s gaze. “I’m sorry.”

Steve blinks. “For what?”

Nancy bites her lip, shifting her gaze to the empty side of the room. “For leaving you at the party,” she says.

“Nancy–”

“And for,” she says, looking down at her clasped hands before looking back up into his eyes. “You were gone, and Jonathan–”

She stops talking abruptly, looking at Steve beseechingly, like he should already know what she’s talking about. He looks over to Eddie, hoping for help, but Eddie’s too busy glaring at Nancy, so he looks over at Barbara, hoping she’ll put him out of his misery.

“Nancy and Jonathan have a thing going on,” she says, mouth pursed again, but this time, like she feels bad for him. It takes him a minute to figure out why.

“Nancy, it’s fine,” Steve says, trying to think of a tactful way to tell her he’d forgotten they were dating at all. “We kissed a few times, that’s all.”

He doesn’t know how to tell her that his life rearranged itself around Eddie Munson and Will Byers, can’t explain the pull – the way she sort of fell away on his list of priorities, without it sounding cruel.

“Really?” Nancy asks, at the same time that Eddie says, “are you serious?”

Steve nods. “Really,” he says, meeting Nancy’s eyes. They’re glittering, and he can almost remember that feeling from before. The euphoria of having Nancy WHeeler’s undivided attention. But then Eddie takes his hand, and it fades back again. “Friends?” He looks from Barbara to Nancy, offering the branch to both girls.

Barbara shrugs, but Nancy smiles, “Friends.”

They don’t stay much longer, both slinking off now that the air’s been cleared. Eddie stays by his side, like he always does.

“You’re really fine with her running off with Big Byers?” he asks. “Just like that?”

Steve rubs the back of his head, grimacing at the way the prickly hairs feel on his palm. “Does it make me an asshole if I forgot we were going out?”

Eddie throws his head back and laughs, tangled hair trailing down his back, neck muscles straining. His eyes are twinkling as he answers, “I think just this once, you get a pass.”

It's not long until his next visitors of the day stop by. Luckily, they end up being far more enjoyable. Will comes into the room, standing in front of the door, hand clasped on the doorframe.

A body collides with his back, sending him stumbling forward as his fingers scrabble to keep their grip on the frame.

“Will,” a childish voice whines form behind him. “Let me in!”

Eddie’s laughing at his side as Will smiles sheepishly at them. “I brought the party,” he says, looking at his shoes and then up to Steve’s eyes repeatedly. “They wanted to meet you.”

Steve’s stomach flutters, a weird mix of anxiety and excitement coursing through him. “Uh, okay,” he says, sitting up straighter to try to look over Will’s shoulder and see whoever is trying to get past him into the room.

Will steps to the side, and nerdy kids pour in. The first a gap-toothed kid with curly hair. He smiles broadly at Steve, bouncing up to Steve’s bed. Next is a black kid with an awkward smile, shuffling his feet as he follows his friend over to Steve, rubbing the back of his head. Lastly, is Nancy’s brother. Steve recognizes the chubby cheeks and awkward haircut from the pictures lining the Wheeler’s staircase.

His arms are crossed, and he’s glaring at Steve, but he comes up to Steve by Will’s side.

“Children,” Eddie says, opening his arms magnanimously from his seated position, like he’s welcoming them to his grand castle. “Welcome to my humble abode.”

The curly-haired kid squints at him, “don’t you live in the trailer park?”

Eddie puts his hand to his heart, falling back into the chair like he’s been shot. “You wound me, Henderson,” he says, wobbling his bottom lip like he’s about to cry. “I live to serve my King.”

It’s a joke, he knows it’s a joke, but it curls strangely in Steve’s stomach. Like he’d eaten bad Chinese food but wanted to keep eating more. He decides not to think about it anymore.

“You wanna introduce us?” Steve asks, looking at Will.

Will looks up at him through his bangs, smiling softly. “Steve, this is Dustin,” he says, pointing at the hyper kid with the missing teeth, “Lucas,” gesturing at the awkward smile kid still loitering behind him, “and—”

“Wheeler,” Steve finishes. “You look a lot like your sister.”

Mike grimaces, glaring at Steve. “It’s Mike,” he says.

Clearly, that was the wrong thing to say. “Will talked about you all,” Steve says. Will smiles bashfully, and Mike’s frown lines lessen, clearly pleased. “Told me all about your adventures.”

Dustin sits familiarly on the edge of Steve’s bed, bouncing with excitement. “Will told us you played D & D with him!” he says, as if that was leagues more impressive than fighting real-life monsters, “and that you kicked Xanthar’s ass!”

Steve’s mind’s still a bit hazy with drugs, but he remembers Will whispering hints conspiratorially into his ear, practically leading him by the hand to his victory roll.

“Beginner’s luck,” Eddie says, reaching over to pat Steve’s thigh. “I’ll get you next time, Stevie.”

That gets Lucas into the mix. “Next time?” he asks, awkward smile turning genuine and excited. Even Mike can’t tamp down the glimmer of interest in his eyes as he leans closer to Eddie. Steve can’t blame him. Eddie’s got this magnetism about him – it either draws you in or repels you back out.

“You’ll play again?” Will asks, enthusiastic.

Eddie leans his elbow on Steve’s bed, and he knows by the sly glance sent his way that he’s in trouble. “I’m in if Steve here is.”

The force of four children sending wide-eyed pleading looks his way is enough to send him huffing back into his pillows. “This isn’t fair,” he says, glaring at Eddie, even as his heart blooms. Eddie just keeps smiling at him. “Fine!” He throws his hands in the air before crossing them in a huff. “But I lost my character sheet.”

Eddie brightens, reaching beneath Steve’s mattress, and pulling something out. It’s a crumpled piece of paper, torn at the edges, and stained. He smooths it out before handing it over to Steve.

Steve looks down at the character sheet Eddie had made for him, his character’s name and stats printed at the time, Steve’s own notes scrawled along the bottom as things had come up.

“I hid it when the scientists started stealing our shit for their tests,” he says, leaning back in his chair, obviously pleased. “I figured a paper originally from the Upside-Down would be right up their alley, so I snagged it for you.”

There’s a lump in Steve’s throat. He pushes past it, muttering a quiet, “thanks,” as he runs shaky fingers over the ragged paper.

As children bicker around him, begging to play right away, Steve looks down at the paper and thinks that Eddie Munson might just be a miracle.

Part 38

#steddie upsidedown au #steddie fic #steve harrington #eddie munson #my fic

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shanastoryteller · 7 months

Note

happy pride!! dealer’s choice <3

Steve is going to die again just a few short years after waking up in this new world and his death is going to be significantly less glorious the second time around.

“You don’t think he’s going to come,” Duke Rhodes says, tied up next to him and in even worse shape than he is. An unfortunate side effect of not being a sorcerer’s experiment and being nearly a decade older than him, he assumes.

“You do?” he asks, too exhausted to filter himself like he tries to do around him.

Rhodes raises an eyebrow. “I think his champion and his general are tempting enough bait, yes. Listening to their demands and showing up alone is also the most foolish choice he could possibly make, so I’m confident the king won’t be able to help himself.”

Those words would be treason from anyone else, but Rhodes has long been King Anthony’s personal confidant, and the one managing this war for the king from the beginning. Steve supposes that grants the man a certain level of leeway.

Steve is, now and always, exactly what he was enchanted to be. The King’s Champion. From the moment he woke up in a land at once so familiar and so different from his own, he renewed the vow he took seventy years ago. To serve his king and uphold the dignity of the realm so long as a Stark sat on the throne.

King Howard, however, had been an easier man to serve. He’d at least taken the time to meet with Steve, for one, had taken an active interest in the war he fought rather than delegating it and holing himself up in his castle. He’d been cold, and detached in many way from the realities of the war he’d started, but he was a king, and his attention, however brief, had always rallied the troops in a way that Steve admired.

King Anthony at least delegates well, he’ll give the man that. Rhodes does not come from noble blood, something they share, but by the time Steve woke up here it was long past something others were willing to hold against Rhodes. His title of Duke had been a gift from the king. His title of General had been one he earned.

“Steve?” Rhodes frowns, eyeing him like he’s looking for injuries that he hasn’t noticed.

Perhaps Steve is more injured than he thinks, because he doesn’t have the good sense to stop himself from saying, “He did not come for his alchemist.”

He tenses, but Rhodes just sighs, shifting in his bonds as if trying to find a more comfortable position even though if that existed, they would have found it by now. “You hold a grudge for something that happened not only before your time, but for something that Edward does not.”

“Edward is too forgiving,” he says stiffly and doesn’t say the same of Rhodes even though he thinks it often.

He sees the warmth and tenderness and affection between Rhodes and Edward clearly and it galls him that Rhodes has so easily forgiven his king leaving the man Rhodes loves to die. Edward is often trying to coax Steve and Rhodes into a more affectionate relationship, but it’s a hurdle Steve can’t quite overcome.

When he’d first awoken there had been nothing but mourning and determination and another war and then there was Edward. Infuriating and funny and warm and completely irreverent, the only person who seemed to treat him as more than cursed and made his terrible circumstances feel like home. Alchemist, armorer, blacksmith – he seemed to do everything and anything required by the crown and with a speed and skill that left Steve breathless. Rhodes may be directing and managing the war but without Edward’s tinctures and potions and weapons and armor, the war would have been lost long ago.

And when he’d been kidnapped and held for ransom, their enemy demanding the king’s presence to free him, the king had stayed safe in his castle.

Steve understood it logically. He’d had no queen or heir at the time and was the last legitimate Stark. Even if he’d been the type of king who cared about his people, he could not risk himself for a subject, no matter how valuable, no matter how much that subject sacrificed or gave or how valuable he was.

But that was just as true for him and Rhodes as it was for Edward and the king had left Edward to be tortured. They had tried to force him to make weapons, to betray his king, and Edward had refused. Steve saw some of the marks of that torture even now, years later, and he could not bring himself to love a king who did not care for that devotion, who hid away in his castle and let better men fight for his kingdom.

He was not required to love his king, only obey and serve him, and that Steve had always done.

He’d earned his title too. Both under King Howard and King Anthony. Being the King’s Champion did not mean being his friend. Not that was something he could claim to be, when he’d never even met the man.

“The Iron Mage saved him and the Iron Mage serves the king,” Rhodes points out, as if Steve doesn’t know that. “Isn’t that enough?”

The Iron Mage is his battle brother and his friend and yet another pillar keeping the kingdom steady while King Anthony can’t seem to be bothered. He holds the light of a star in the center of his chest and uses magic like a blunt weapon, the elements of the star sliding over his body, shifting and changing metals as he brutalizes the battlefield. Those that had captured Edward had found their base reduced to rubble and the Iron Mage appeared wielding a power that not even Sorcerer Strange could explain.

They said he was Goddess blessed, sent from the heavens as a shooting star to aid the king in his war, to ensure victory for the Starks who ruled by divine right of the Goddess Herself. Steve wasn’t sure of all that. The Iron Mage seemed man enough, for all he was constantly covered in his strange shifting, shimmering metal. His voice came out raspy and too low, as if he was in pain, and Steve often wondered if holding the core of a star was worth the consequences, but he was the last one to ask questions like that, considering what he’d allowed Sorcerer Erskine to do to him. The Iron Mage’s humor was wry and ever present despite that, and Steve often thought that he and Edward would get along, if the Iron Mage could ever be coaxed into spending time off the battlefield with the man he saved all those years ago.

But he couldn’t quite lay that victory at King Anthony’s feet. If anything, it seemed like the Iron Mage had used saving Edward as a way to secure his place at the king’s side, rather than that he’d been sent by the king in the first place. No one had heard of such a mage before that, after all.

“Perhaps the Iron Mage will come for us,” he says instead of answering. It’s possible. But the Iron Mage is supposed to be on the other end of the battlefield by now and by the time he hears of his and Rhodes’s capture, it may be too late.

Rhodes shakes his head. “You need to have a little more faith in your king.”

“Why should I?” he snaps, knowing starting an argument when they’re literally tied together is a dumb decision, but like most of his dumb decisions, he can’t help himself. “When King Howard dragged us to war, he at least let us see his face, he made an effort. I hardly expect a king to take to the battlefield, but King Anthony stays in his castle, with his drink and his women if the rumors are to be believed. Queen Virginia has introduced herself to the soldiers several times but the king has not. What sort of man is he to ask faith from me?”

“Well, I said faith, not trust,” Rhodes says tiredly. “Tony didn’t start this war and he’s doing his best to end it.” It’s rare that Rhodes will slip into the familiar name for the king, but it startles Steve every time, the reminder of just how close the general and the king are, and how little that closeness had mattered when Edward was captured. “Although I’ll grant you that you’re right about one thing.”

Steve is exhausted suddenly, in a way that has little to do with his lack of sleep or his injuries, but he’s too grateful for Rhodes keeping his temper while he can’t to ignore him now. “What’s that?”

“Tony is nothing like his father.”

#god i love identity shenanigans #prompt answers #prompts are closed #asks #anon #avengers

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jennifer-jeong · 30 days

Text

[Angst + Fluff] [Ryomen Sukuna x Reader] Next time

hehehe see what I did with the header picture, they're leaning on each other (you'll get it if you read)

CONTENT

Sukuna promises you he’ll be better for you in your next lives. NOT SPOILER FREE, suggestive, angst to fluff, gender neutral reader, it’s supposed to be a happy ending if you pretend that things don’t go according to canon LOL, very OC Sukuna so he actually has emotions, near death experiences, injuries, blood, death, suicide, ALL CHARACTERS ARE 18+

AUTHOR NOTES

I can’t write canon Sukuna because he doesn’t even like humans 💀 Basically this is pookie Sukuna LOL There’s a lot of deviation from canon in this fic. I'm probably going to make a smut portion to this in a separate fic so stay tuned hehe, I'll link it here if I finish it!

Word Count: 2244 why did this turn out so long... maybe I actually do like him

Back in the Heian period (a millenia ago), Ryomen Sukuna, “the king of curses,” peaked in power. At the same time, you were just getting started with your adult life. Unfortunately at this moment, however, it seemed that it would be cut short. A strong, locust-like, curse manifested in your village and you’ve been trying your best to stop it but to no avail. In fact, it’s currently pinning your body to the ground, trying to bite your head off. You imagine that the curse came to be due to the fear of famine in your farms, but you didn’t think it’d be this strong. You struggle but the curse is much larger than you are. You don’t even know what your last words should be, your mind going blank in panic. Your life starting to flash before your eyes-

“I suggest you fuck off my turf,” says a dangerously domineering voice. The curse looks up down the road and sees something you can’t in your current position. You barely need to look to figure out who it is though. The curse above you freezes in pure fear and eases up on crushing your body in a jolt. You hear the same voice “tsk” at the curse’s “disrespectful” hesitation and suddenly the giant bug flies in a seemingly random direction before essentially exploding due to the force. You sit up slightly with shock evident on your face, you turn around to finally see your unfortunate savior. He takes your silent shock as confusion and explains “the area is mine… filthy curses have no right to do as they please around here.” Your body feels heavy from the sheer aura of power he gives off but you can’t help but still make a mildly disgusted face at him for what he’s saying. You’ve heard he treats humans like livestock and you have always despised him for having power like that and choosing to do this instead of something good. He makes an angered face back saying “hah?” and just when you start to regret your choice of facial expression, he rolls his eyes and walks away. You pause for a few seconds before taking a breath you didn’t know you were holding. You mutter a “thanks” that you don’t think he hears before heading back to your home to tend your wounds.

Sukuna had been watching you recently. It was no coincidence that he appeared in front of you that night. He first noticed you when you were able to kill any of the curses that attacked your village. He watched, quite amused, that you continued to struggle with no fear against these monsters while the rest of your idiotic village sat back and watched, some even calling you insane despite you saving their lives. Sukuna doesn’t understand why you don’t just beat up the humans that don’t listen. You let them take advantage of your kindness even though you could wipe them all out with an arm tied behind your back. You’re overly kind but you still have the guts to stand up to someone like him. He heard your small mutter of gratitude while he walked away and smiled slightly. He’s never met someone he actually felt bad for in this way. He’s found something he feels pity for, and it’s enough to make him want to protect it, treat it like it’s special.

So now you’re here, a few days later in his temple, bowing 90 degrees in front of him with an offering in your hand. You came here to show him respect for not killing you or the other villagers. He’s impressed you even found him and more impressed that you made the trek here. He walks towards you and reaches for your chin with his hand to make you look at him and stand up. His eyes inspect your slightly flustered face while his thumb very slightly caresses your chin. He releases his hold on your face and takes the offering. You stand there, still on guard and weary of the man. But you know he hasn’t done anything to your village in the time that you’ve been alive, you just know he’s the “disgraced one” and that it can’t be good.

For the next few weeks, your time is spent half at the village and half at Sukuna’s temple. He decided to help you with the journey by just teleporting you with a “simple” technique that you couldn’t comprehend. You slowly discover that Sukuna is actually just so strong he’s bored, no one really stands on equal ground with him. Even if all the sorcerers in the world fought him, he’s confident he’d win, and you don’t doubt it (canon).

He thinks it’s cute that you still go back to the village to help out here and there. He’s only okay with it now because he can watch over you and intervene if anyone wants to be rude. Many of the villagers are kind to you from a distance, only some actually approach you to thank you from time to time. A small group of the villagers unfortunately highly suspect you to be a curse of some sort though and don’t trust you because you’re so powerful. You’ve only ever done good with your power and you know that for a fact, so you ignore them. Sukuna, however, sits in his temple absolutely fuming whenever they interact with you, he’d maim them if you told him to, but you specifically told him he can’t hurt any humans unless they attack first.

Sukuna enjoys watching your little daily endeavors, smiling whenever you’re clumsy while cleaning or when you accomplish hunting down and killing some curses. It brings a sense of innocent joy to his life that he hasn’t ever really had. He’s had violent, murderous joy in his life, but nothing like this before. Some might say it made him soft, but really it made him stronger in a sense, he finally had something to protect.

As time goes on and seasons change, you and Sukuna only grow closer. You can’t explain why you’re still here with someone you used to hate with every fiber of your being. You think it might have something to do with how he actually sees you. He sees your struggle and your kindness and properly appreciates you for it. No one else in your life has done that for you. No one protects you and cares for you like he does. You also learned that he’s always been pretty good or at least neutral in using his power too. Only killing humans when attacked, beating up strong sorcerers but not killing them, and killing curses that bother him in his land. He was never actually as bad as the rumors made him out to be. Basically, Sukuna fell first and fell harder before you realized that you had fallen all the same.

Sukuna can’t help but be a little obsessive over you. You’re the only one he has eyes for afterall. He always checks in to make sure you’re safe when you aren’t at the temple and actually learns how to cook new dishes so he can feed you. His touches always linger on you: his hands on the small of your back, fingers brushing through your hair, lips ghosting over your skin. When you spend nights together, he’s essentially worshiping your body, telling you how beautiful you are and how he’s all yours. You make sure to return the favor and make him feel loved, it makes his heart feel so full and only deepens his love for you.

You’ve discovered overtime that Sukuna is actually human, he’s just so unbelievably strong and feared that people think he’s a curse. It was strange, you could almost draw a parallel between Sukuna and yourself. Both of you were feared by some because they just didn’t understand you or your intentions. It was an unfortunate part of this reality, but as long as you could live happily together, you didn’t really mind.

Another unfortunate part of this reality, though, was that things never go according to plan. Your plans of living happily together with Sukuna quickly fell apart soon after your 3 year anniversary. The sorcerers knew that they could use you to bait Sukuna and have a much better chance at defeating him. So that’s exactly what they did. They caught you when you were out in the village in the late summer. You were strong, but there were too many of them.

It was doomed before it even started.

In the end, Sukuna is out of energy, being forced to fight offensively instead of defensively if he wanted to save you. You managed to escape to return to him and help, but you were both quickly overwhelmed since the sorcerers decided to play dirty like this. You were both sitting outside of the temple, having teleported away to buy some time. You both just sit and talk. “Have we even killed anything other than curses recently?” you question. He chuckles at your seemingly lighthearted question in this situation, “not that I can think of… I think this was always coming for me though.” You look up at him with concern, he can only smile back even though you can see the clear sorrow in his eyes. “Humans are always scared of what they don’t understand. It’s just how it is” he says as he closes his eyes and enjoys the sun. The warmth drying the blood on both of you, some of it belonging to you both, most of it belonging to your attackers. You’re silent, not sure of what to say in what seems to be your last few moments. He leans on you and you turn your head to touch foreheads. He sighs and says “I’m glad I met you at all though… You showed me what being loved is like. It was something I never thought I’d find or deserve.” You start to tear up and reach a hand to caress his cheek. “You always deserved love, darling. I’m sorry the world was so horrible to you,” you say to him in a gentle voice. “Don’t apologize, love” he says as he kisses your forehead and wraps an arm around you.

“Maybe if we can get them to hate us enough, they’ll curse us together and we can live on like that” you say jokingly. He chuckles and says “wow you really do like me, huh?” You both laugh and hold each other.

A group of sorcerers are within view and are approaching fast. You give him one last kiss and speak your last words to him: “maybe we’ll reincarnate together someday. Maybe as curses, maybe as humans.” His eyes soften with sadness written all over his face “if that happens, I promise our lives won’t be like this one… I want to be a good man for you next time… I’d give all this power up if I could just live a long and happy life with you.” You close your eyes as tears fall. Your eyebrows scrunch as the pain washes over you, physically and emotionally. You see him tear up ever so slightly and whisper “I’m sorry for all the trouble, my love.” “Just make it up to me next time,” you giggle. He knows you never blamed him. He smiles.

You always knew what you were getting into when you approached Sukuna. It was dangerous, delusional, and stupid. But you know you would’ve never had it any other way.

You both still sat side by side, foreheads touching, holding each other. You quickly charged two shots of cursed energy. One piercing his skull, the other, yours.

You eventually become a small part mentioned by people when they retell the tale of the king of curses. Many described you as a traitor or as a curse. But some could see that you prevented Sukuna from spiraling deeper into his distaste for humans. Without you, he might have become a sadistic psychopath as time went on since no one would have any way to kill him. They praised you for that, thinking you did it on purpose to save the nearby villages. Both these ideas were lost in history though. In modern times it’s only written in some books at jujutsu high as hypotheses. No one truly knew what happened.

Sukuna’s powers sealed into his fingers upon death. A technique he used on himself before he met you and one he long forgot about. The sorcerers, out of fear, scattered his indestructible fingers to prevent anyone getting their hands on them and reincarnating the king of curses. Hoping to keep the man dead.

Again, reality makes sure things don’t go to plan, and it’s Yuji’s first day meeting some of his classmates. Sukuna has been wondering what to do since he’s been reincarnated into Yuji’s body. He’s been uncharacteristically quiet in Yuji’s mind and it makes everyone question if Sukuna is really the evil being they all thought he was.

Sukuna is barely paying attention until he feels a familiar warmth walk into the room, not even needing to see you to know who you were. He couldn’t believe it, he almost laughed, thinking that the universe really brought you two back together after more than a thousand years. But he paused, suddenly serious because he realized he had a chance to make things, not right, but different.

After class, Sukuna switches with Yuji, and lo and behold, you show him the exact same disgusted face you made to him centuries ago when he came to greet you in Yuji’s body. It made him smile as he let out a whisper,

“I missed you.”

Thank you for reading!

|| MASTERLIST <3 ||

#jjk x reader #jjk angst #jjk fluff #jjk x reader angst #jjk x reader fluff #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna x reader #reader x sukuna #sukuna ryomen x reader #sukuna angst #ryomen sukuna angst #sukuna fluff #ryomen sukuna fluff #j's silly ramblings

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amaramizuki666 · 1 year

Text

Dp x DC crossover

Soul speak part 1

"CONSTANTINE NO! IF YOU SUMMON HIM YOULL DIE!!" Zatanna screamed clutching her side red blood seeping from the gaps between her fingers. "I have no choice if I dont we wont be able to stop this thing" john says in an almost terrifyingly calm voice. Batman lay on the ground barely conscious with a hole in his shoulder. Red hood next to batman putting pressure on his injury.

"What are you two doing, the door isnt going to hold much longer!?!" Red hood yelled his free hand griping his pistol tightly figer on the trigger regretting not bringing live rounds.

"John PLEASE dont do this" zatanna pleads looking at her freind "sorry but this is our only chance at bringing down that, that THING" Constantine says as he finished drawing a summoning circle in his own blood. "I'm going to miss you zatanna your a good kid, watch over the others for me" john says, then starts chanting.

"ƙίภg ๏Ŧ t♄︎є ίภŦίภίtє гєคl๓ร, ί j๏♄︎ภ ς๏ภรtคภtίภє รย๓๓๏ภ y๏ย. ί ๏ŦŦєг y๏ย ๓y ร๏ยl Ŧ๏г t♄︎є єxς♄︎คภgє ๏Ŧ y๏ยг Թгєรєภςє. ๏♄︎ ๔คгƙ ๏ภє ๏Ŧ t♄︎є ภєxt Թlคภє. Թคгίค♄︎ ๔คгƙ ƙίภg ๏Ŧ t♄︎є ๔єค๔ Թครร t♄︎г๏ยg♄︎ tί๓є คภ๔ รԹคςє t๏ ♄︎єє๔ ๓y Թlєค."

John on his knees crying silent tears as he chanted. He chanted the same thing over and over till finally the sigil of blood started to glow and turned from red to Lazarus green. A green fog lifted from the circle high in the air. The others in the room held their breath looking at what was happening. And with a snap the fog set ablaze like air born gas as a match it lit.

As the flames flickered out a blurry figure came into sight. A young man? Slender but muscular build but was slightly obscured by what seemed to be a cape, snowy white hair with something floating slightly above , pointed ears, and glowing green eyes where all that was visible of the being.

"ฬ♄︎y ๔๏ y๏ย รย๓๓๏ภ ๓є?" The creature asks, its voice echoy as if multiple people spoke at once. John looked at the thing in the circle clear confusion on his face. "Yo-your not pariah dark" John's voice craked. The being tilted its head "ภ๏ ί ค๓ ภ๏t Թคгίค♄︎, ภ๏ฬ ฬ♄︎y ๔๏ y๏ย รย๓๓๏ภ ๓є?" The being sighed. "No, no, NO, how did I mess this up, i needed to summon the king of the dead, now thanks to my fucking screw up that monster outside is going to kill everyone!" John panicked, he felt the blood in his veins freeze everyone in this building no in this city where going to be slaughtered by that demon outside starting with the people in the room with john.

"ร๏ y๏ย ภєє๔ t๏ ๓є t๏ รt๏Թ ค ๔є๓๏ภίς ๒єίภg, t♄︎คt ίร คll y๏ย ภєє๔є๔ t๏ รคy" the being says and steps out of the fire and smoke, its/his figur becoming fully viable. Adding to what they could already see, they boy looked to be early to late teens, had light green skin and white freckles. He was wearing a skin tight black body suit with white gloves and white boots, the chest area having an odd symbol on it. His cape looked to be made of the night sky its self and his crown floating above his head looked to be made of stars and green fire.

The boy walked past Constantine to where the door was. "ί ฬίll ๒є ๒คςƙ ίภ 10 ๓ίภยtєร, ๔๏ ภ๏t lєคvє" the being stated and fazed through the door leaving the room of shoked and injured people behind.

"What the hell was that!" Red hood hissed at john. "I dont know" john says quietly "what do you mean YOU DONT KNOW!!" Red hood snapped. "That was not what I was trying to summon" is the last thing that is said. The next 8 minutes quiet and tense.

When the entity fazed back through the door all eyes where on him. The boy staired back at the heros, eyes slowly dissecting each one though they seemed to stay on red hood and Constantine the longest.

"lєt ๓є ♄︎єlԹ y๏ย ฬίt♄︎ t♄︎є๓" the boy said and out stretched his hand two green blobs flew from his hand. One floated over to zatanna and the other to batman, they landed on the heros and both seemed to relax slightly.

"t♄︎๏รє ๒l๏๒ g♄︎๏รtร ฬίll ƙєєԹ t♄︎є๓ รtค๒lє tίll t♄︎єy гєςєίvє Թг๏Թєг ๓є๔ίςคl ςคгє, คร Ŧ๏г y๏ย j๏♄︎ภ ς๏ภรtคภtίภє ฬє ภєє๔ t๏ ๔ίรςยรร Թคy๓єภt" the boy says looking at the blond in question. "The payment is void I offered my soul to the king of the dead not some child demon" john argued.

"ί ค๓ t♄︎є ƙίภg ๏Ŧ t♄︎є ίภŦίภίtє гєคl๓, ƙίภg Թ♄︎คภt๏๓, ๔єคŦєtєг ๏Ŧ Թคгίค♄︎ ๔คгƙ" the being said his eyes narrowed at john. "You defeated pariah?!?" John questions. The boy simply nods. "ภ๏ฬ Ŧ๏г ๓y Թคy๓єภt, y๏ย ๏ŦŦєгє๔ ๓є y๏ยг ร๏ยl ίร t♄︎คt รtίll ฬ♄︎คt y๏ย ฬίร♄︎ t๏ Թคy" the boy king asks.

John sighs feeling tired to his bones "there is no way out of this one, yes my soul is yours, king phantom of the dead" the blond mumbles. "ί єxєԹt t♄︎ίร Թคy๓єภt, y๏ย คгє ภ๏ฬ ๓ίภє, j๏♄︎ภ ς๏ภรtคภtίภє. ภ๏ฬ Ŧίгรt t♄︎ίภgร Ŧίгรt" the being says and gently lays his gloved hand on John's shoulder. John suddenly feels an overwhelming since of wholeness. Like a puzzle just got put together.

"What did you do?" John asks phantom. "ί гєợยίгє๔ t♄︎є Ŧгคg๓єภtร ๏Ŧ y๏ยг ร๏ยl y๏ย ร๏l๔ Թгєvί๏ยรly คภ๔ гєคttคς♄︎є๔ t♄︎є๓ t๏ ฬ♄︎คt lίttlє ๒ίt ๏Ŧ ร๏ยl y๏ย ♄︎ค๔ lєŦt" the boy says "wait how do you have the other fragments?" John asks. "ฬ♄︎єภ y๏ย ร๏l๔ y๏ยг ร๏ยl t๏ ๓є คll ๏t♄︎єг ς๏ภtгคςtร ๒єςค๓є v๏ί๔, ί ค๓ t♄︎є ƙίภg ๏Ŧ t♄︎є ๔єค๔ คภ๔ คll ฬ♄︎๏ гєรί๔є ίภ ๓y гєคl๓, ภ๏ภ ๏Ŧ t♄︎є๓ ฬίร♄︎ t๏ ςг๏รร ๓є" phantom explained.

"ภ๏ฬ ί ๓ยรt ๒є g๏ίภg" the boy king says then looks at John then to red hood "ί ๔๏ ภ๏t ฬคภt ๏г єxԹєςt y๏ย t๏ ๔๏ ๓y ๒ί๔๔ίภg ๏г ๒є ค รlคvє, jยรt ๔๏ ฬ♄︎คt y๏ย ยรคlly ๔๏, ๒ยt t♄︎є ภίg♄︎t ๒єŦ๏гє t♄︎є ภєxt Ŧยll ๓๏๏ภ ί ฬίll ς๏ภє ๒คςƙ t๏ รєє y๏ย คภ๔ ฬ♄︎єภ ί ๔๏ t♄︎คt ๏ภє ๓ยรt ๒є ฬίt♄︎ y๏ย" the king says and looks over at red hood pointedly then turns away from them.

Phantom walks over to the glowing green circle and stands inside "ยภtίl ภєxt tί๓є" are the last words he says before fading away. The sigil of green turning back to red. "What have you gotten us into?" Red hood mumbled "I have no clue" John says back.

#writing prompt #writing #danny fenton #danny phantom #dc comics #dc x dp #batfam #dc #jason todd #jhon constantine #john constantine

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cutetanuki-chan · 2 years

Text

want to make a post with all stuff that I have on Sasha Wolf AU

Marcy meet Sasha in her human form for the first time

Marcy came up with the name ‘Sasha’ cause of her favorite children’s book with princess with same name

complicated relationships between Sasha and Domino

here’s the story:

Marcy used to go several time into the forest that people usually avoid cause it’s dangerous and there are many rumors about the magical creatures living there but Marcy can’t hold her exploratory spirit and that’s where she meets Sasha for the first time

With ups and downs they’re start bonding, and with time they grow really close to each other, since Marcy not much content with life in her hometown, so she spends most of the time in the woods with Sasha, Sasha occasionally visits city in her human form to see Marcy, once after seeing other kids pick on Marcy, she jumps in front of them and starts growl, but since she looks like human she only gets laughed at as an outcome

When Marcy is 14 she decides leave/runaway from home and go explore the world, and of course she asks Sasha to go with her, so they start their adventure, in the process Marcy researching plenty of plants and creatures that helps with her studies with magic and potions, and parallel with the exploration of the world, they are trying to find any leads about any werewolves whereabouts cause not so long ago after Sasha’s birth, all other ones are disappeared (thanks to our beloved king but no one knows about it)

And that goes several years, until they helped to catch bursted into the city creature when they were visiting the fair in the capital and were noticed by the King. The King has a proposition - work for him, help him collect some magical creatures that ‘bother’ people around, Marcy’s thrilled to accept the job, but Sasha says she doesn’t trust him, to which Marcy brushes off like ‘you don’t trust ANY human’, but the King’s proposition goes with room in the castle and after years of wanderings they decides it might be nice to have a permanent place where they can return to, and free meals further strengthen this decision, so they take it

But after a few months, the true colors starts appear, and after unfortunate attempt to sneak in the King’s private room to grab one book, Marcy accidentally falls into a secret passage under it, and overhears crucial conversation between the King and someone else (Idk for now what exactly she hears and what exact King’s plans but after overhearing it she decides to steal very important for King’s plan thing and and she don't go unnoticed)

Marcy bursts into her room, telling Sasha they need to flee castle right now, and she has no time to explain, they're partly succeed in it but royal guards already on their tail, turned into a wolf with Marcy on her back, Sasha runs through the forest in the great storm (for the more effect) but she gets shot with an arrow what caused her to fall and knock off Marcy. With ground slippery from the rain, Marcy ends up holding on the cliff above the river, but her grip breaks and she falls into the water. Sasha dashes to the river, but all trying to find Marcy is in vain

Only a couple of days later, in a small village away from the capital, a girl with curvy hair during her routine finds unconscious Marcy on the river bank

Anne finds unconscious Marcy on the river bank during her morning work routine with Plantars. With Sprig and Polly's help, she drags her back to her house. Marcy sufferers from head injury and broken leg, so it takes time before she able to come to her senses, during that she probably couple times mistook Domino or Anne's hair for Sasha and tried to pat it. Once Marcy in her right mind, she is very grateful to Anne for rescuing her, to which Anne replies that she can stay here until she gets better. But soon Marcy has some explaining to do after Anne's parents spoted a wanted poster of her on village streets, so Marcy reveals all about about the King and why she's a fugitive criminal now. Anne is full head-on on believing Marcy, but mama and papa Boonchuy still skeptical about it, and not very much thrilled with the idea of one more kid living under their roof, who's also a bit shady. But their attitude changes after Marcy helps to fix and innovate some stuff at their house, and they grow to like her with time anyway (how can you not, it's Marcy), so later they're like 'would you like to stay forever?'

To avoid being noticed, Marcy stays on the territory of the Boonchuy's house for all time, and she is physically unable to go much further with her leg. In between helping around the house, she's inspecting the thing she stole from the King, it appears to be some kind of puzzle and she remember seeing King open it, but due to her head injury, she can't quite recall how exactly he did it (she did crack the puzzle but she's missing the key element to make it work)

Meanwhile, Sasha trying to find any signs of Marcy but water washed everything and it's impossible to catch even a glimpse of her presence. After a failed attempt of using her smelling senses, she thinks that maybe guards could already have found Marcy or know where she might be, so she knocks out one of them and steals their clothes, then cuts her hair for better disguise. Talking to the other guards hasn't made much progress in her search for Marcy, but at least she knows they haven't found her either, and it's easier to question those around you when you're in uniform. After weeks of searching, she thinks she has finally caught a familiar scent, but upon reaching her destination she sees not Marcy, but another girl, bewildered, she follows her home. And only then, taking off the upper part of the uniform and with the picture torn off from the wanted poster, she goes to confront the girl and asks about Marcy, to which girl baffled at first, but noticing the bit of clothing in Sasha's hand, she brushes her off telling 'she never seen this person before'. With further pressuring, Sasha gets only more lies and eventually a door slam into her face, understatement to say, she's not happy with such outcome cause she knows for sure Marcy's there and what if Marcy’s in trouble

Waking up at night, Anne noticed her cat meowing anxiously next to the door. She only manages to say 'hey, what's wrong buddy?' how monstrous beast, twice her size, bursts through the door and knocks her on the floor with hit of a claws, scratching her arm. Anne is scared as hell, and when an enormous jaw a meter away from her, Marcy breaks in between them with outstretched hands and shouts 'STOP', all commotion makes Anne's parents worryingly to come down too And here's Marcy, on one hand with uncontrollable Sasha, who without any chances will be able to turn into human in the near time, and one the other - wounded Anne and her parents, who are ready to make a new carpet for a living room, so the only reasonable solution that comes to her mind, - shout 'GO AWAY' to Sasha

And at this moment Sasha's heart breaks, cause the person who has been with her all her life, the person who she genuinely liked, the person whom she has been crazy looking for all the last weeks, not knowing if she is even still alive, the person whom she finally finds again after all this time and thinks she's in danger, yells at her to go away. Sadness gives way to anger when she hears Marcy screaming 'GO' again, filled with rage she runs off, breaking some stuff in the process. After Anne's wound taken care of and atmosphere is calm down a bit, Marcy apologized for what happened and tries to explain everything. Once sun starts to show, took one of her smell tracking potions and a bit of fur that stayed on the stuff, Sasha crushed into, Marcy goes to the forest to find her. Their reunion is not pretty, Sasha's still furious, keeps growl, and whatever other sounds wolf can do, at Marcy and crushing everything around. Only after a several tearful apologies and explanations that this family took care of her and she could not allow them, nor Sasha, get hurt, Sasha let Marcy to help her calm down. Once Sasha is able to turn into a human again, she doesn't speak, to defuse the situation Marcy tries to ruffle her hair saying 'I see you a got a new haircut' but Sasha only brushes her hand away. She agrees to go back with Marcy but she's still very much hurt

stuff from twitter:

When Marcy and Sasha first met, Sasha didn't talk, she intuitively understood some of the stuff Marcy's saying but most of the time she had no idea what she was babbling about but she didn't mind listening, Marcy didn't sound threatening

Marcy was to first one to braid Sasha's hair, she's also went through a bunch of different hairstyles but Sasha stooped at braid

Marcy build a little swings in the forest for her and Sasha

After Sasha and Marcy bonded a bit, Sasha saw a small scar on Marcy's hand that was left after her bite in one of their first meetings and she felt guilty, so Sasha tried to pressure Marcy to bite hers hand in return

In first winter Marcy was so afraid Sasha will get cold no matter the fact that she went by fine last winters, so Marcy brought her several blankets and some old clothes

In Sasha's first visit to the city she was overwhelmed with all new and unfamiliar smells

Sasha is more comfortable in her wolf form and more often sleeps in it

Sasha can’t turn into a human when she’s in the state of rage

Marcy nailing the potions stuff very well (she made potion for Sasha from fleas)

they almost always sleep next to each other, Marcy often just buries herself into Sasha’s fur

Sasha wasn't feeling very intimidating in her human form so Marcy got her a dagger

Sasha loves cutting stuff from the wood using this dagger

They had to switch bed to just a mattress on the floor in the castle room, cause the previous one crashed under Sasha's weight

Sasha on the daily basis has to brush Marcy's glasses from her forehead back to her nose bridge, cause Marcy will squint at the book, forgetting that she's not wearing them

One time Marcy with the words 'watch and learn how to make some money' jumped on a table in a pub with her violin and in the next second fell off it along with the table

Sasha afraid of thunder, Marcy hugs and holds her close during storms

When they wander in the woods separately, like Marcy goes exploring stuff or Sasha goes hunting, and something goes wrong, Sasha can just howl and Marcy will hear her, but Marcy doesn't have such a powerful voice range, so she always carries with her a small vial of spearmint essential oil, and if there's a danger of some sort she will open the vial or simple crash it, depends on situation, so if Sasha will sense a sudden familiar sense means something's up. But Marcy also accidentally crashes it or pours it out couple times, Sasha would huff at her in annoyance when she realizes nothing is wrong, after sprinting half of the woods, but she's glad Marcy is okay

After Sasha and Marcy got separated, all Sasha had left was Marcy's half thorn cape she found in the river

Marcy faked amnesia when she woke up at Boonchuy's so she won't have to tell them she's most likely considered as a kingdom's traitor at present moments, until wanted posters appears

Marcy mentions Sasha a lot of time while talking with Anne but she forgot to mention she's a werewolf so Anne has very ambiguous image of Marcy's friend until she meets her

Anne afraid Sasha will eat her cat

For a while Sasha keeps trolling Anne a bit about various stupid ways she can become werewolf too

Sasha grown to like Mama Boonchuy, she taught her how to do some of the house work

When Sasha and Marcy more or less reconciled, Sasha in her wolf form decided to go in the room where Marcy was sleeping to curl up next to her but she got stuck in a doorway

#amphibia #sasha waybright #marcy wu #anne boonchuy #sasharcy #Sasha wolf AU #amphibia au #art

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my-on-and-off-writingstuff · 1 year

Text

Powerless feelings |Daemon x Reader

Request: can you please write more? Maybe their 2 older kids also got into the fight with aemond and he hits one of them with a rock on his head which caused him to pass out which made the reader go into an early labor. Some childbirth angst and drama that ends up with happy ending and her having a girl

Author notes: This is part two to the request mentioned above covering the reader going into early labor. Part 1 of the request can be found here! if you want to read it. I don’t think I really did the request justice but I hope you enjoy it nonetheless.

Warning: Blood, early labor, fighting.

___

“My prince.” A voice is waking him from his slumber and before he realizes that he does not recognizes the voice he squeezes his wife closer to him. “Please the king has requested you.” The first words were enough to wake him up complete. “What happened?” he demanded this time turning to the voice standing next to his bed. “I am not sure; however, your children were involved, and the king has requested everyone to get down the hall.” You too have been awakened by the voice of the maids and immediately throw the blankets off you. Without sparing the maid a glance you run towards the children’s bedroom. You throw a glance into the room and notice that two of the bed are empty except for the bed of you littlest one. “Baelon and Aedon are gone.” Dread starts forming in the pit of your stomach and you start to shake while a hand goes to your belly.

Daemon who was busy putting on a pair of pants immediately takes you into his arms. “Shh my love, we don’t what happened yet.” He tries to calm you down. His thumb is making circles on your back while he holds you tightly in his arms. “We have to go down, Daemon our babies.” He nods with his chin is resting on top of your head. You make your way out of his arms and throw a robe around yourself, so you at least look halfway decent. You were pregnant what else do they want from you. “You, stay here with our youngest and do not leave until we have returned.” He demanded of the maid that was sent to wake you. The poor girl looks terrified, but you have no time to sooth her as the only thing you want, is to see if your babies are fine.

Daemon takes you by the hand as you make your way towards the hall. Halfway down the stairs you halt and a sensation you know all too well was making your way through your body. After three pregnancy you knew how your body was acting and it felt like you were having a contraction, but it was too early. You still had a month to go. Way to early. Daemon looks at you in concern. “What’s wrong love?” you shake of the feeling that you were having contractions and to not worry Daemon further you do not mention it. “Just some cramps.” He nods and his free hand lays on your belly while he supports you down the remaining part of the stairs.

Daemon threw the doors of the great hall open allowing you to enter. The hall was full of people from the royal family to the king’s guard and about every other guest of the funeral. Who all looked at the two newcomers curiously. “Aedon, Baelon?” You ask and to you relieve the two boys came running to your side. You kneeled down, ignoring the pain you felt in your lower back and hugged them to your body. Before examining them.

You cringed at seeing the dried blood under Aedons nose and you fingers tilted his head to the side to see for any more injuries but other than the nose he did not look too hurt. His hand gripped yours and you softly squeezed it before looking at your oldest. He looked straight ahead at the conversation that was happening around you. But as soon as your hand touched his he looked at you. You gasped when you saw the blood on his hairline. “Who did this?” you ask softly not caring to listen in to the royal bitching, leaving that part for your husband. “Aemond.” Baelon his eyes darted from his father to you, who had taken his position in front of you all, and to the boy that caused it.

You looked over the wound on Baelons hair by carefully shoving his hair out of the way. It did not look like it needed to be stitched but you could only be sure after the blood was cleaned. Another contraction like feeling waved over you, this time harsher and more painful making you grimace. “Mother?” Baelon asks in concern checking your face for any signs of discomfort. “Nothing loves” You straighten up after giving both boys a kiss and put your arms around the boys.

You zone out when another pain hits you. The children around you start blaming each other but the feeling that something is wrong does not leave you. You were taken out of your state when the king called for silence. You focused on the platform where the king and queen were standing. The queen was quick to blame Luke for it but once again you attention was drawn away from the conversation. You moved your arm from Baelon to you belly and tried to draw some soothing circles on your belly. Something that always helped when Jael was bringing out his troublemaker side in your belly. At the loss of your arm Baelon linked up with his father. Tugging at his arm before discreetly looking at you. Daemon looked back at you and cursed underneath his breath.

He could see the pain that you tried to hide. You were trying to stabilize your breathing. It was something you had learnt when you went into labor with both Aedon and Jael after given the tip by Rhaenyra. Your absentminded state and the rubbing of your belly made Daemon anxious. His eyes darted to the door, but he knew the king was not going to let you and their sons leave before he had found out the truth. Daemon moved to your side and slid an arm around your waist. To further increase his worry you felt warm, and your body was shaking. He tried to draw the attention of a maester but the one in question was too busy with stitching that little rats eye.

He raised his brows at hearing the demands of both Rhaenyra and the queen as once again the legitimacy of Rhaenyra’s sons was brought up to question. Daemons eyes glanced around around the room and saw an older lady sitting in the chair nearest to them and without thinking he gestured her to move the hell out of the chair. “Excuse me?” She mouthed at him clearly confused and angry. “My wife is pregnant get up out of that chair, she needs it more that you,” he snarked to the woman showing no remorse as he was not following any of the etiquette rules that had been taught him by his teachers when he was younger. Not that he ever took notice of them. The older woman scoffed at him but quickly decided the seat was not worth fighting a prince for especially when he looked like he could feed her to his dragon at any moment.

“Sit down love, please.” Daemon was guiding you to the chair. You did what he said and immediately went back to rubbing circles on your belly and trying to breathe through the pain. “This interminable infighting must cease. All of you!” At that your head shot up you looked at the king for the first time. Hopefully that this was all over and you could cuddle up with you husband. “We are family! Now make your apologies and show good will to one another. Your father, your grandsire, your king demand it!” It was over. You let out a sigh of relive. Your boys only needed to apologize there would not be a worse punishment. “That is insufficient.” You hear the queen say and you close your eyes one more the pain was getting unbearable, and you knew that something needed to happen quickly. As you could feel a pressure building up in your stomach.

When you opened them again the king was addressing the crowd again. “And let it be known anyone whose tongue dares to question the birth of princess Rhaenyra’s sons should have it removed.” With those words it seems like this debacle is over and you carefully stand up from the chair. Daemon is hovering over you like a mother hen and your children are not far behind him. A shockwave goes through the hall when Alicent goes to reach for the knife and storms towards Rhaenyra. Everything is moving at lightning speed. People screaming, and commanding the queen to stand down.

Daemon had been able to get you halfway through the hall before Alicent had stolen the dagger. But both of you halted at turmoil. Children were screaming as was the Kings guard commanding Ser Criston to stand back. He however does not heed the warning and makes his way to help the queen in her attack. Daemon interceptes Ser Cristons move, fearing for his niece life. You look around the room to find family against family and at that moment you felt water trickle down your legs. “Daemon!” you get out between the pains of the unfollowing contraction.

Daemon immediately let’s go of Criston and rushes to your side. “My love” both his hands are on your cheeks forcing you to look into his eyes. “The babe is coming.” You are able to bring out “Now?” He asks almost frightened. “Yes now!” You clench your teeth through the pain. Something snaps in his head and you swear you have never seen Daemon so feral. “Maesters my wife has started her labor.” “And you.” Daemon seethed with anger turning to Alicent, who at least has the decency to look somewhat guilty. “If it wasn’t for you my wife would not be in early labor so if anything happens to her you better pray to those petty little gods of yours.” With those words he scoped you up and rushes to your chambers. The maester following close.

As soon as he placed you down, he was shooed out of the room by the maesters and the midwife. “Daemon! Daemon!” you exclaimed in panic when you saw him being rushed out of the room. “I am here love, just holler when you need me, those old goats want me gone.” He stroked your cheek and placed kiss son your forehead. “Do not leave me please” you were gripping his hand tightly. Daemon took a good look at you and instantly he began to worry about you. You were looking sweaty and panicky; you have never looked like this in the previous labors. “Of course, not love.” He kissed your hand and threatened the maester to say anything with just one glance. “I will stay right here.” You nod and grab his hand tightly as if it is the only thing keeping you from drowning.

“Okay milady push.” One of the midwives says and at the go ahead you start pushing. Your body knowing what to do, but everything still feels off. You try to remember the breathing exercise to lessen the pain, but nothing seems to help. Your head is against Daemons shoulder, and he is trying to talk you through it. “Milady, you have to push.” The maesters say when you weakly fall back against the headboard of the bed. “What do you think I am doing!” you manage to get out between breaths. You moan and you scream with each contraction, each push, but nothing seems to be working as if the babe knows it is too early and prefers to stay inside, ignoring the signs your body is giving.

You scream out as you once again push at the same time squeezing Daemons hand to pieces. You are staring over the shoulder of the Daemon completely transfixes upon something else. Your ears are ringing, and you feel you mind disconnecting from your body. Slowly the pain is fading away to a dull ache. “Y/n” Daemon is shaking you, but you barely notice. Your eyes can only blink. Your face has lost all its color and you feel limps

“Maester!” the old man is immediately by his side but does little to dimmish the fear he is currently feeling. “Do something!” He screams at the maester. His wife is looking like she is in another state so much worse that the one she was in down in the great hall. “Y/N think about Baelon, think about Aedon and little Jael.” He is back to shaking you again. “Think about me.” The last part almost sounds like a sob. Terrified of losing you Daemon is stroking the wet hair out of your face. “Please what would I do without you.” His warms lips touch yours and you seem to come out of your state a little bit. Enough to start pushing again and the Maester notices it too. “Push at the next one milady.” And you do with all of your strength that is left. You let out one last scream and then it is all over. A small baby is makes it’s way into the world kicking and screaming but alive and judging on those little lungs healthy. All your weight shifts against Daemon, who is quick to lay you on the bed. your eyes follow the midwife who cradles you baby against here to clean it and snip the umbilical cord. As she goes out of your sight you try to keep your eyes open but to no avail.

However, Daemon has only eyes for you. His eyes roam your face for any sign of that something is wrong, but he does not notice the blood streaming out of you at a alarming rate. One of the heavier midwives pushed him to the side without pardon as they roll you on your back. A wall of midwives and Maesters blocks him off any access to you and he feels his heartbeat at the top of his throat at the same time as his breathing being cut off. “What is happening?” he calls out, but he does not receive an answer. Instead, a tiny baby is pushed in his arms before that woman is also rushing towards you.

A little sound comes from the baby in his arms and his brain finally acknowledges the tiny bundle in his arm. His eyes look down at the tiny babe in his arms. So perfect, a little tiny but oh so perfect. Her little Targaryen white hair in little tuffs on top of her head. Her small little hand that is laying against his chest. He carefully tucks the blanket back and he closes his eyes for a moment. You had been right all along it was a little girl. It was a girl, and you did not even know. he felt something wet make his way down his cheek. Ashamed he wiped it off, not that anybody was watching him at this moment as they were concerned with you but he still felt ashamed. He is supposed to protect you and here you were possibly dying because he wanted another child. “You will never marry little one, nobody is going to do this to you.” He promises the little girl. “You will never know the dangers of childbirth.” He rocks her in his arms while at the same time trying to see you and find out more information.

“My prince.” Daemon opened his eyes and stands up. Somewhere in between he was sent out of the room. Doomed to sit outside of the door while they were working on you. He moved around the Maester and walked to the door. He felt himself freeze when he was halfway across the room. He could now see you; they had washed you and covered you with blankets. The midwives now busying themselves around the room with cleaning and other tasks. You looked so fragile and peaceful, and he feared the worst. He slowly approached the bed but hesitated to touch you. Scared that when he died his life would shatter. But his heart won over his mind and carefully he touched your cheek. Another insidious tear escapes him when he felt the warmth of your skin.

“Your wife needs to take a prolonged rest but other than that it will all be well.” Daemon smiles while stroking your hair softly. “And the Babe?” He asks the maester without looking at him. “The little one came early but does not seem to have any problems with deformities, breathing or her heart. But we will monitor her progress nonetheless.” Daemon could only nod while settling himself down on the bed next to you, the little babe in-between and his other hand firmly clasped in yours as if they would take you away from him if he would let go of you.

___

You awoke to bright sunlight. Your eyes immediately scanned the room for your little one but it found Jael first. Jael had fallen asleep at the foot of the bed. He was curled up with his little dragon. You heard the voices of Aedon and Baelon somewhere in the room and finally, Daemon was laying on the bed next to you and in-between the two of you was your tiny little miracle. Ignoring the pain you stretched your arm to carefully maneuver her into your arms, but Daemon kept a tight grip on her so for now you would have to settle at only looking at her.

She was perfect, like her brothers she had inherited the silver hair and while she was sleeping you were sure she had the beautiful violet eyes as well. Her little fist was resting against Daemons chest and moves with every breath he took. “You want to hold her?” You eyes shoot up to meet Daemons and you nod eagerly. Carefully Daemon places your daughter in your arms. “She is perfect.” You sigh while stroking her little face. “She is, after all she is taking after her mother.” You snort at his comment. “If she is any like her brothers she will be all you.”

“How are you feeling?” You meet his eyes again and smile brightly. “As good as I can be.” Your answers seems to have the opposite effect as a frown makes his way on your husbands face. “I mean it, I almost lost you yesterday.” You laugh at him. “So do I, I am still here, with my daughter in my arms. I am feeling great.” He does not seem convinced yet but abandons the topic anyway not wanting to ruin your bliss.

Aedon and Baelon had sneaked up at you side and were sneaking glances at the babe. “Come here boys.” You nod at them and both make their way onto the bed to join your little family of now 6. “What is her name, dad did not want to tell us.”

Long ago the two of you had made a pact he was allowed to name the boys with your approval of course and you were allowed to name the girls. Tears spring in your eyes at the notion that he had waited till you woke up to give her a name. “Alysanne.” You look up to Daemon for approval and he gives you a short nod. “Alysanne it is.” He kisses your forehead and promptly takes her out of your arms. You whine at the loss of your daughter but seeing your husband with her in his arms makes you, you weak on a whole other level. “Should we have another one?” You ask him and the tenses up. “Do you want me to be in an early grave?” “Certainly not but you look so good with a little one in your arms.” You smile at him while hugging your boys against you.

____

Tags: @wallace02sblog @cleverzonkwombatsludge

#daemon targaryen x reader #Daemon Targaryen #daemon targaryen imagine #daemon targaryen fanfiction #daemon targaryen x y/n #daemon targaryen oneshot #house of the dragon #house of the dragon fancficton #hotd #game of thrones #house of the dragon imagine #daemon x reader

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pherelesytsia · 2 years

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Who did this to you? 4

Pairing: Thomas Shelby x female/Reader

Summary: Bruised and broken, Y/N, trapped in a loveless marriage, arrives at her best friend's house, desperately hoping someone will help her, aware she cannot return to the estate of her husband.

Warning: fear, anxiety, Angst, swearing

Word Count: 2.5k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 5

The wind chanting a song of sorrow swept through the town and howled like a lonely wolf at the waxing moon escaping the glimmering mist. Not a soul roamed the streets, but the world was not free from terror and suffering, from pain and grief.

Midnight had not fallen, and the moon climbed high, claiming the sky as its kingdom, but the dawn of a new day, a new hope, was far away, not within reach.

The lawn was low and the lonely tree in the middle of the garden, enclosed by a low fence, swayed back and forth, dancing like a dancer to the serenade of melancholy. Light burned in the far corner of the house of smooth stone surrounded by higher, nearly similar ones. It seemed as if somebody was awake at the ungodly hour, stitching and patching or sitting over a lovingly written book of endless love, full of emotions the heart was longing for, a gentle tale written by a lonely writer longing for the unachievable.

Gasping, her bloodshot eyes opened. Gloom awoke. Fear spread through her. The memories, terrible and unforgettable returned, were painted in shrieking colours, oozing with poison and crimson. Her heart pounded rapidly, crashed into her chest, but the organ couldn't escape the prison. Y/N tried to clench her hands into fists to protect herself, but her fingers were nerveless. Fine lines of crimson trickled down her arms. Y/N begged for mercy, trying to escape the memories, but the formless silhouettes coiled like a snake around her frame. Breathing heavily, she awoke, thought she was already awake, and searched for the enemy, the evil faces bearing wicked eyes, but before the first cry reached her throat, Y/N realised she was in no danger, had survived and was alive.

Y/N hoped it was just a twisted dream. She braced herself. Slowly, fearing the answer, Y/N lowered her gaze. A lump formed in her throat. The wounds prevented her from moving, the sore arms and legs, the bruises shaped into hands. Y/N refused to trust the memories, but she spotted the evidence on her hands. Repulsed, she lifted her eyes. Wet crimson clinging to her trembling finger glistened in the light streaming dimly through the windows shielded by long curtains.

"Peggy?" Y/N breathed.

Her hand shot to her neck and noticed how swollen her throat was, realised how difficult it was to fill her burning lungs with air. Again Y/N uttered her best friend's name, crowed like a crow, but no answer came.

The pain grew dull, but stayed a good friend, a companion reminding of good old times, a mate talking about the shenanigans done in the childhood. Slowly Y/N leaned her pounding head back on the pillow. The shooting pain evoked tears, but no injury on her body ached as much as her shattering heart, broken into millions of fragments.

Silence ruled like a ruthless king, torturing and dooming, wicked with a mind twisted as the limbs of a fallen soldier facing the grey heavens. A hush prayer crossed her lips, her mind played with her, imagined the worst things, but as Y/N calmed and brushed the sweat sticking to her forehead away she realised that if someone had invaded the house, she would have heard the intruder.

She busied herself with her fingers and ignored the pain clouding her mind. Her face curled like soured milk. Gently, almost lovingly Y/N caressed the golden ring, the gold shaped into the sign of infinity, a token of love, of marriage, of someone having captured the heart through caring gestures and tender words.

Realisation hit her like a wave. Weakly, Y/N smiled, knew what had happened, but she couldn't hate Peggy for what she had done, knew her friend well and assumed she must be knocking on the door of the building she had to call her home.

I need to leave, Y/N thought to herself, could not picture to face her husband. The world spun, but the shadows rising and falling like high slopes of the mountain didn’t scare her, amused her. Y/N pushed herself from the sofa and threw the blanket, which could not offer any warmth, to the side. Astonished she glanced at the clock above the wooden door and realised she had slept less than thirty minutes, but it felt as if she had been asleep for a whole year. A lonely tear danced down her face, but she didn’t brush it away, let it fall like rain. Y/N folded her arms in front of her chest, hiding the tips of her fingers, shielded herself and advanced at a slow pace. She couldn’t walk upright, couldn’t stay strong anymore. The darkness told her to come closer, luring her in, telling peace is awaiting her in the gloom, but Y/N was deaf to the voice and turned into the long, seemingly endless corridor leading to the locked door. Suddenly she stopped and focused her gaze over her shoulder, hoping to meet a person but her only friend was the darkness.

Peggy´s coat was gone. The only evidence Y/N needed to see to know that her friend was gone with the wind was the big puddle the shoes had left on the ground next to the door. Y/N clasped the key in the small bowl on the round table and stepped hesitantly closer to the entrance. Aware she could not stay in the house, fearing the words she knew would escape, the looks they would cast upon her and the dooming laughter she opened the door.

The night greeted her with open arms. Goosebumps reigned on her skin, but Y/N did not shiver nor cursed as the wind licked her wounds open. The leaves rustled, danced and painted the sinister sky in the hues of autumn. Y/N stumbled through the shadows, bearing no map and again she laughed, had no place to call her home, no place of refuge, a place to be herself without fearing rejection, could chant like a man or be ridiculous, behaving childish and amusing. Without realising it, Y/N walking in the glow of the faint stars, pushed the garden door open and turned in one direction, not knowing where to go, not having any other friends she could trust with her life who would not take her straight to the Shelby's in hope to get a golden coin, jewels and wealth in return.

“Fools. Bloody Fools.” Y/N chuckled.

Laughter, the sounds of delight, didn't shatter the night like a spear breaking a wooden shield. Her thoughts amused her, delighted her. Foolishly the woman had hoped she would see her husband, wished he would stand in front of the house but Y/N wanted to hear no apology, nothing, no stories nor loving words and as she thought about it, Y/N longed for his closeness, an embrace.

Her mind drifted away, she had fallen in love with him the moment when the gazes crossed, found herself in his clear blue eyes mirroring the beauty of a cloudless day, and Y/N did not want to love him yet she had seen a tender, nearly carrying site of the ruthless man.

Brows almost touched. Bracing herself, Y/N turned, prepared for the worst, punches, curses, men willing to carry out what they have started. A familiar voice called her by her name. A sparkle of hope ignited in her chest. Her eyes narrowed and her heart skipped a beat. The modern vehicle had stopped five steps away from her. Y/N gulped. The outlines were too wide, too tall to be a woman, and Y/N cursed, hissed like a snake and prayed low prayers.

"Y/N?" his voice frightened her.

The beams of the moon escaping the curdling clouds brushed his face, but the hat on his head spread a shadow on his pale features. She stumbled back. The shape rose in size. The beard had grown longer. Concerns continued to reign in his gaze and the wrinkles on his face deepened, realised it was Y/N dressed in the torn and tattered garment, walking like a shadow in the pitch-black shadows. The men jumped and ran. Deviousness did not prevail in his gaze. Fearfully, Y/N backed away, took two steps, tried to put as much space as possible between herself and the men. Crows screamed. She stumbled, the wooden fence forced her to a halt, forbidding her to flee, to escape the worst. Gulping, Y/N clawed her fingers into the flowing material of the torn fabric, covered her flesh and searched for a way out, breathed a prayer, and tried to scream for help, but she couldn't.

"What are you doing here? What happened to you and where's Thomas?" Alfie asked sceptically.

Quickly he advanced, walked ahead, spoke loudly, ignored the people in the houses bordering the narrow road, trying to find a moment of peace in the land of dreams. Terror welled within his eyes, seeking another presence, a friend, but no one was standing by her side, nor in the remote gloom. He unbuttoned the buttons of his coat, took it off, and ignored the silent pleas to leave her alone. Alfie halted and placed his coat on Y/N´s shoulders, covered her battered body, and tried to warm her. He searched for the answer to the unspoken question, but the man could not speak, forgot hate and distaste, and breathed soothing words into her ear. Y/N tensed under his touch. Gently, fearing she would collapse like a house of cards under his touch, he touched her arms and brushed the strands of hair glued to her face away.

"I won't hurt you, little one," Alfie assured.

Laughing, Y/N lifted her eyes from his torso clad in a white button-down. Her fingers curled into the warming material. The smell of smoke and expensive whiskey enveloping her had a soothing effect on her heart.

"I don't think you could do anything worse to me, Mr Solomons.", "Come on, I'll take you home. The streets are no place for a flower like you," he spoke.

Y/N shook her head, stepped back and it didn't escape the man towering high above her.

"Did he?" the man asked.

His voice sounded strange, almost fearful, unusual, and it seemed as if someone else was speaking, but it was Alfie who was talking. Y/N rammed her teeth into her lower lip, pushing away the horrible thoughts invading her heart like an army of hundreds of cruel warriors, barbarians with axes and swords. An icy shiver danced down her spine. Memories returned, but Y/N stayed in silence, couldn't speak nor cry like a banshee.

“Y/N. Tell me. Has the Shelby hurt you?” Alfie urged.

Y/N didn't know what to answer. Lips didn't touch. The sharpened dagger jabbing deeper into her heart caused her to gasp in pain. Yes, he wounded me, Y/N reflected, lost in the ocean of memories. I can count on one hand how many times he has kissed me, how many times he has said that he loves me from the deepest depths of his heart. Thomas had never laid a hand on his wife, never dared to raise his voice, but he had forgotten her and Y/N forgot the moments when his eyes rested gently upon her, telling what lips could not express.

"No, but I can't go to him. Maybe he doesn't mind that I am gone. Thank you very much for your coat, but I don't need it. I have to be on my way. I need to go." Y/N spoke loud enough to know that Alfie had heard her.

"Are you crazy? I'm not going to leave you,” he spoke in a low voice.

His gloved hand gave her shoulder a gentle squeeze.

"Alfie, I can't," Y/N answered hesitantly.

The moon escaped the fangs of the clouds. The pale light beamed upon them standing by the deserted road leading across the town. Patiently Alfie waited, needing to know what had occurred, refused to pressure her. He gulped at the sight. The fabric around her bruised neck was ripped and stained. The lipstick once painting her lips in deep hues, was slightly smudged and the curls framing her face were dishevelled.

"Do you need a doctor?" he asked.

The question was unnecessary.

"If you don't get in my car willingly, I will throw you in. I am not leaving you alone," he said.

Alfie breathed words, trying to bring Y/N to senses, not wanting to force the trembling woman into his automobile to inflict more pain and summon tears. Carefully his fingers played around the large dark buttons of his coat and closed each of the buttons, working from the bottom up, and tried to find more wounds, crimson and blueness, but the clouds reared and shifted and clouded the only source of light.

"Come, little one, the streets are no place for a dainty flower like you. Everything is alright." Alfie continued.

His hands were shaking as he touched her. With care, he embraced Y/N, and she rested her head on his firm chest. His eyes widened. A wetness of unknown origin was leaking through the button-down clinging to his skin. He lowered his gaze. The sight fractured his heart. Alfie gulped. Her face mirrored the moon, pale and cold, and her fingers, bloodied and bruised, searched for a halt.

"I will not harm you. I would never harm a woman. At my place, I will tend to your wounds and I can offer you a place to sleep." Alfie spoke gently.

"Okay." Y/N finally answered.

Fog emerged out of the alleys of the forsaken city, engulfing the houses and streets. The faint smell of rain lingered in the air. Alfie pushed her towards the dark vehicle, telling her no harm could strike her, and Y/N let it happen, trusting the man protecting her from the ruthless winds of winter.

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newkatzkafe2023 · 1 month

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what if monkey kings hear Y/N sing?

Oh it is something similar so this ask But this is the song they heard you sing

youtube

(Lmk Wukong) Yo are you trying to make him cry. This song would hit where it hurts The fact that your basically tell him your still here and will always be there. He himself has told you multiple times that he brings danger and problems. He is irresponsible and impulsive that he is far from perfect. But here you are five hundred years later immortal and married to him despite knowing all of that stuff. It never fails to make him cry and question everything. And it never fails to make him appreciate you no matter what.

(NR Wukong) He remembers this song. He remember this song all to damn well. The song that takes him back to your first meeting and the same song on your wedding. Your song holds the memories of every milestone he's ever had with you. He would always go Quiet when he's hears this song because every time he hears it he remember everything you guys been though and everything that will continue to come and will experience with you by his side loving his crazy ass to the end of time.

(HIB Wukong) it feels like he is getting squeeze. Getting gripped till he just goes POP! He couldn't handle it anymore. He was hit with a waved of memories of the first meeting, becoming friends, first date, first kiss, him purposing, your wedding and Meeting Luier and Silly girl. All of the things he felt he didn't deserve but got anyway despite everything he done. He can stand it and held on to you hoping that he doesn't wake up all alone in that mountain once more.

(MK Wukong) He's trying not to let you know that your song effects him but it's not working out. You do nothing but stay but support and love him even when things are god awful or when you get seriously hurt. But you would come to him injuries and all asking him I he was ok or I'd their is something you can do to help. He couldn't hold it in as he held on to you tears rolling down his face.

(Netflix Wukong) Tears Tears Tears that all you will get from him. You have no freaking clue how important you are to him. He has nothing and he still loses everything if he lost you to he doesn't want to think about it. It would cost him whatever is left of his mental health. Your a Pillar, that keeps him up. An Anchor that keeps him from floating away and keeps him ground. Your song tells him that you are going absolutely no where. Not without him

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#monkey king netflix #monkey king reborn #monkey king x reader #nezha reborn #lmk monkey king #monkey king hero is back #x female y/n

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turtletaubwrites · 2 months

Text

Slipping Away ~ Part 27

This is part 27 of the poly series 'We've All Got Needs,' linked below:

Pairings: Zoro x Fem!Reader, Sanji x Fem!Reader x Robin

Word Count: 4261

We've All Got Needs Masterlist

Ao3 Link (Ch. 17 of We've All Got Needs cont.)

!!SPOILER WARNING!! Spoilers for the anime for the Water 7/Enies Lobby arc (through episode 307).

Summary: More dangers block your path as the Straw Hats keep pushing to free Robin. Help arrives in unexpected ways.

Rating/Warnings: AFAB!Reader, She/Her Pronouns for Reader, Reader-Insert, Polyamory, Canon Typical Violence, Blood, Injuries, (Including Reader), Pet Names, Cigarettes (they're gross, don't smoke), Swearing, Angst, Fear, Heights, Nausea, Throwing Up (just heaving, nothing comes out), Drowning, Reader is not doing great, Dizziness, Explosions, Fear of Death, Hurt/Comfort

A/N: Hi y'all, I'm so sorry about the wait! These chapters following the arc have been taking me longer, and I got distracted with other stories/requests. But I'm here now! The next update will be out within a week, as well as an extra scene. Thank you so much for being patient with me 🙏🏼🖤

Blood splattered on the ground as Usopp dragged himself to all fours, his wrecked body stiff, yet shaking.

“I’m sorry, Sanji,” he coughed, more blood spreading around him. “I tried, but I couldn’t…”

A silent sob left your throat as Nami struggled to guide your pathetic, limp body. Your limbs were dead after clinging for your life for so long, and you hated that you couldn’t help Usopp off the ground.

“You’re alive, that’s what matters,” Sanji declared, his voice rough with emotion. Water dripped from his blonde hair as his eyes flicked to you for a moment, before comforting your friend. “Everyone has things that they can do and things that they can’t.”

The lump in your throat did not help to reduce your frustration at your uselessness.

“Yeah, but,” Usopp mumbled, the wobble in his voice like a punch to the gut.

“Look outside,” Sanji commanded, Pointing through the gaping hole in the stone wall. The sight of those massive gates fell like a weight on your heart. A weight that stole your breath as it started to open, the huge metal slabs moving slowly, but not slowly enough.

“Robin,” Nami whispered, saying the name that you couldn’t with your dry throat.

“If those gates open up, and Robin goes through them,” Sanji warned, “we won’t have any way to follow her. She’ll cross waters infested with sea kings, then there’s the undersea prison, or the navy headquarters. Everywhere on the other side of those gates is beyond our reach. We’ll lose her forever.”

Sanji came to you, taking you from Nami’s arms to hold you against him for a moment. Your feet were getting a bit steadier, but his warmth was too much. You wanted to push him away as he kissed your temple, the tenderness shoving you closer to that edge of falling to pieces.

“This is the worst situation, but in every situation, even one as bad as this, there’s always a chance,” he comforted, his eyes on Usopp as he helped you step toward Nami.

She handed you her Clima-Tact, giving up her weapon for you to use as a makeshift cane before she pulled Usopp to his feet. His blood stained her clothes as she supported some of his weight with his bandaged arm around her shoulders.

Sanji leaned in close to the sniper, reaching to touch his shoulder, but let his hand fall before gripping the wounded flesh.

“I'm gonna stay here, and do what you can’t do. We’ll get those keys. You need to do what I can’t do.”

“Huh,” Usopp questioned, head tilting toward the cook.

“Think carefully, read the situation,” Sanji commanded, his rough voice giving you chills as the wolf man stalked ever closer. “As long as we have you there’s still a chance we can save Robin. You hear me, Usopp?”

Your bloodied friend started shaking, his question interrupted by a howl.

You heard the metal slash of blades as Zoro battled the giraffe man, and in an instant the wolf was on Sanji, your lover yelling for you to leave as he blocked the attack.

“Come on, we gotta go,” Nami ordered with a grunt, fighting Usopp’s struggle to call for Sanji.

“Ow, Nami,” he complained as she yanked at him, “I’m still injured.”

“Well, staying here and getting killed will hurt more,” she scolded, their stumbling forms moving past you.

Your boys. Teetering with the Clima-Tact, you couldn’t tear your eyes away from their fights. Battling agents of CP9, devil fruit users.

Blood, and broken stone, and hits that made you cringe.

Robin.

They can win. We need to save her.

Your movements were agonizingly slow, the makeshift cane slipping in your hands. Wiping your blood and dust stained palms on your shirt, you gritted your teeth, following Nami and Usopp out into the center stairway of the tower as fast as you could manage.

The trek down the stairs had barely started when Usopp pulled away from Nami. He was limping, but practically buzzing with a manic gleam in his eyes.

“I get it!”

“Get what,” you called as he started rushing back up the stairs.

“We can save Robin. As long as I’m here we can save her, damnit,” he declared with more true confidence than you’d ever heard from him before. Chills ran along your skin as the wounded sniper turned to face you, issuing a command that you had to follow.

“Let’s go!”

Nami took her weapon back, offering you her shoulder as Usopp’s burst of energy sent him scampering away faster than you could have gone on your own.

“Fuck, I’m slowing you down,” you hissed, fighting for your body to move, your head still reeling from that antler ride you’d like to forget.

“Didn’t you hear Sanji’s speech,” Nami scolded, supporting your sluggish steps. “We’re a crew, Y/N. Helping each other is what we do, stupid.”

Her comforting words pulled a small smile from your lips that was quashed almost immediately as you struggled up the endless stairs. Usopp’s cheerful yells pushed you forward, and your legs were slowly feeling steadier. It seemed your headache was the biggest issue, dizziness staying with you as your limbs relearned how to function.

Stepping into the sun was brutal. The light gray stone of the tower almost glowed beneath your feet, and you pulled away from Nami to cover your eyes from the glare. She wrapped your hand around her weapon again, moving ahead of you to watch Usopp at the edge.

You couldn’t get too close as your new fear of heights started closing your throat, so you stayed back. The bridge cut across the water in the distance, leading toward that now open gate, those massive metal doors like a gate to hell.

A hell that Robin was being dragged toward.

“I see her,” Usopp cried out, prepping his new weapon. With Kabuto held in front of him, and his broken mask still showing rays around his face, Usopp's shadow really did look like some mythical warrior.

Nami took your free hand, inching you closer, but you had to take it back. Holding it above your eyes to cut the glare, you stared at the bridge, desperate to see her.

You saw people. Very small people. Marines in white moving across the bridge.

“Watch this,” Usopp commanded, humming his silly Sniper King song as he lined up his shot.

An urge to stop him tore through you. It was too far away, how could he see her, let alone aim to ensure she wouldn’t be hit?

But he was your friend, even if he wasn’t part of your crew anymore. You trusted him, but still held your breath.

Then you saw her.

Two of those figures weren’t in white. One charged across the stone in a billowing, dark cloak. The other was in gleaming black, being dragged along the ground by the first.

This pathetic fucking man child. This scumbag that already didn’t deserve to open his stupid mouth again.

Spandam was dragging Robin behind him like she was trash. You wanted to rip his mask off, and smash his stupid mouth into the stone until he choked on his teeth.

“Get him,” you growled.

“On it.”

The terror of waiting was replaced with pride and sick pleasure at the sight of that small, cloaked figure being blown away from Robin. You hoped that the smoke erupting around his head was enough to strangle the air from his lungs.

Usopp hit him again, Spandam’s body flying down the steps of the bridge. And the sniper didn’t stop, sending blast after blast as those marines in white scattered, their shouts carrying across the water.

Without meaning to, your voice joined Nami’s, cheering for Usopp as he wreaked havoc on your enemies. The praise seemed to set him on fire, his shots flying faster, laughter on his lips, singing his song while he blew them away.

“Look,” Nami yelled, pointing toward that figure in black.

Robin had broken away from the chaos, and was stumbling as she ran away from that gate. Toward you.

“Usopp!”

You cried out, ice filling your veins while the marines stood in a line as they faced her. It was hard to see clearly, especially with your head still pounding, but you knew what those movements meant.

They were going to shoot her down.

Usopp kept shooting, but there were too many. There was no way he could take them all down in time.

The three of you screamed for her as she fell to her knees.

You couldn’t look. You couldn’t look away. You could only scream her name, and hope that she heard you. That she knew she wasn't alone.

The moment before the shots were fired lasted a century. A century in which you were trapped in stone, forced to watch and wait, helpless again.

Your eyes almost shut when the sound of death exploded from that line of guns. But if they had, you wouldn’t have seen it. The moment that filled you with more forgiveness and gratitude than you’d ever felt before.

Franky.

The man whose family had stolen from your crew, who’d hurt Usopp. The pervy cyborg whose family was now fighting at your side.

This strange man that you barely knew was standing in front of Robin, shielding her from the marines. He held his arms out, and took every single bullet that was meant for your love. For Robin.

“Hey! Sniper King? Needy?”

Zoro’s voice called up from what sounded like not too far down, but you couldn’t stick your head over the ledge to find out.

“We’ve got the rest of the keys. Catch, and send them to Franky,” Sanji commanded as your eyes returned to the bridge. Franky was still standing, still protecting her.

“Can you do that, Sniper King,” Sanji questioned, his voice filled with his belief in your former crewmate.

“Of course! Just throw the–”

“Catch,” Zoro yelled before a tied up bit of cloth came flying in front of Usopp.

Usopp caught it easily, tossing it in his hand.

“There’s more than keys in this.”

Usopp made you even dizzier as he leaned over to question the boys.

“We stole a snail off an agent,” Sanji’s voice carried up “You still have one right?”

“Yes,” you choked out, confirming that it had survived the monster ride with you.

“Fucking shoot it already,” Zoro yelled.

Nami untied the bundle in Usopp’s hand, adding the remaining keys before securing it, nodding at the sniper.

Everyone was silent as he aimed. This shot would mean her freedom.

“Franky! Robin!”

You were shouting in the poor snail’s face, until Franky turned to pick up that tied up cloth.

“Robin!”

“Y/N?”

“Oh gods, Robin,” you sighed through your tears.

Nami took the snail from your shaky fingers as she smoothed her hand along your back.

“All the keys are in the bundle. Franky, please unlock her!”

“Got it, but how did y’all–”

“Thank you, long-nose,” Robin interrupted. There was joy in her voice. Joy. “That was wonderful.”

“It was the least I could do,” Usopp declared in that silly, pompous voice. If he wasn’t so close to the edge of the building, you would have hugged him. “The true heroes are those who fought to retrieve those keys from the enemy. The Straw Hats will be proud to have you back. Hold your head up high, and meet them with a smile when all of this has ended.”

“Right,” Robin agreed, and even from a distance, you could see when she was freed. She stretched her arms above her head before pulling them down in front of her, and you knew exactly what was coming next.

“Seis Fleur.”

That powerful voice echoed through the transponder snail, just as a cloaked figure made its way to the front of the marines.

“I’ve been waiting a long time to do this,” Robin purred, arms sprouting from his dark clothes as she smacked the shit out of Spandam.

“Fuck yeah,” you cheered, hearing the cacophony of slaps, and the whimpering cries of that sniveling piece of shit.

The remaining marines scattered, rightfully fleeing in terror from her power.

“Alright, let’s move,” Franky ordered with a laugh. “Get your asses over here. I’ll get everything ready for ya. We’re gonna bail.”

“Got it,” Nami agreed, storing the snail while Usopp called down.

“Did you guys hear that? Robin’s free, Franky says–”

“Get down here already, Sniper King,” Sanji yelled.

You were squeezing the sides of your head, trying to relieve some of the pressure. The relief poured through your body, but almost made you feel more off balance.

“Ha, everything went according to my plan,” Usopp hummed as he limped toward the stairs. He stopped abruptly, making Nami grumble as she almost ran into him.

“What’s that,” he wondered, almost under his breath. “I swear I heard something.”

“Come on, we’ve gotta–”

Nami’s demand was cut short, all of you hunching and covering your ears as an explosion went off. It was easy to spot, a huge plume of black smoke rising from the metal fence surrounding the island. A marine ship firing on it’s own base.

“These psychos are really going to destroy their own fucking island, and kill all their own people because some dumbass pushed a button,” you seethed, hearing the boys calling for you.

Nausea rose as you neared that ledge again.

“Things have gotten serious, Needy,” Zoro urged, making you bravely peek down at him on the balcony below while Nami held your hand. “Hurry up, and jump down from there. We need to go now.”

“Jump,” you choked, glad that Usopp cut in to be cowardly for you.

“Is that supposed to be a joke? I don’t have the same kind of freakish superhuman strength that you guys have, alright. And my bravery is not the life risking kind. In case you haven’t noticed, I’m a normal super hero not a super super hero–”

“Don’t be babies,” Nami teased. “We’re almost home.”

Nami called down before leaping off the edge.

“I’m fine,” she shouted as you looked over to see Sanji setting her down on her feet. “Come on, it was fu–”

At first you thought your body was fucking with you, all the looking down bringing that terror up. The crushing sound, the slipping of your unsteady feet, until there was nothing. Nothing holding you, nothing touching you, just you hanging onto the Clima-Tact as you spun.

The rough scrape of broken stone flying across your legs tore your eyes open, but you closed them immediately.

All that clinging, all that hell you went through to keep yourself from falling, and now you were falling to your death.

At least you got to hear your boys one last time, your name screamed from their lips.

It wasn’t stone.

The dreaded moment of impact came, along with the deep groan of whoever had caught you.

“Needy, are you–”

“putmedownputmedown.”

The Clima-Tact clattered to the stone of the balcony, and the top of the tower finished crashing to the ground while you fought to crawl away. Zoro’s warm hands were just another sensation too many.

But those hands held your hair back while you tried to throw up, soft voices floating around you as your head fought to split open. You whimpered as nothing came out, just spinning nausea, and your memory failing you as you tried to recall the last time you ate.

“Hey, you’re okay,” he soothed, pulling you against his chest after your empty retches had turned into frantic breaths. “We have to go now, Needy.”

As he pulled you to your feet, Nami was there, rubbing your arm as she checked on you. She offered you her weapon, but Zoro shook his head.

“I’m sorry, Needy, but we need to go faster than you can walk. Do you want me to carry you in my arms, or do you wanna ride on my back?”

Nausea rolled in at the thought, but you bit the inside of your cheek, motioning for his back. You saw Sanji and Usopp having the same debate, Usopp wincing as he moved.

“If you hadn’t torn my bandages–”

“If I hadn’t caught you, we would have had sniper crepes for lunch. Just get on,” Sanji demanded, until the five of you moved on three sets of feet.

Down those endless stairs, the sky burned through the roof that was no longer there. The rhythmic bouncing of Zoro’s body had you clenching your teeth, closing your eyes to fight the spinning.

I’m going to be dizzy for the rest of my life.

If we survive.

You only knew that you had made it to the bottom as the downward falling motion of Zoro’s steps on the stairs shifted to a steady up and down that was still just as bad.

“Please don’t ever pick me up after this, you groaned against Zoro’s shoulder. “I don’t want to be carried anymore. Ever.”

His chuckle was cut short as a familiar voice called out.

“This way, kiddies,” Kokoro ordered, and you opened your eyes just a bit to see her pointing down a dark corridor. Chopper was back in his normal, small form, his mouth hanging open in sleep as she had him strapped to her hip like some living purse.

“This leads to the bridge, come on!”

There was no time to argue or question. Just heavy steps echoing down the stone hallway that seemed to get colder with every step the swordsman took.

“Try to pick up the pace, we’re in a hurry here,” Usopp rushed over Sanji’s shoulder.

“I could probably run faster if you were unconscious,” your cook threatened, and you were shocked to feel a weak smile on your lips.

“How could you talk to your hero that way? Especially when I've been so seriously injured in the line of duty. All six of my ribs are broken!”

“You have more ribs than that,” Zoro huffed, pulling up beside them, “but if you don’t shut up, we’ll break the rest, and make you run. Got it?”

You smiled at Usopp from your carried positions as he kept complaining. Slowly, the feeling of a hammer hitting your brain was starting to lessen.

Not distant enough explosions had you tightening your body around Zoro’s back.

“We’re almost out.”

His whispered comfort almost sunk in.

“What’s that?”

“I hear something weird down the tunnel.”

Usopp and Nami had spoken at once. The group stared down that cold corridor as you kept heading toward freedom.

“We don’t have time to go worrying about weird sounds. We’ve gotta make those government jerks pay,” Kokoro said with a cough, still sounding drunk as if she’d been at the bar while you all fought for your lives.

“Is that–”

“It’s water,” Usopp cried out, cutting Nami off. “Don’t you hear it? We need to run!”

No one stopped. You couldn’t hear anything over the rhythmic slap of feet against stone, and Zoro’s heavy breaths as you rested your head against him.

“We have to turn–”

“We’ve got nowhere else to go,” Sanji huffed, “we need to keep moving no matter–”

“Holy shit,” Nami cursed beside you, her voice breathy as everyone stopped running.

“Hang on, Needy.”

You cracked your eyes open, the horrifying sight matching the sound you could finally hear.

Water.

Zoro slashed at the stone wall, but even his swords couldn’t break through.

“We’re underwater, dumbass,” Sanji spat as the group started running the other way.

Running for your lives.

The stone walls made that rushing sound echo, surrounding you even before the cold death touched your skin.

“I’ve got you,” Zoro promised through gritted teeth while he sprinted ahead.

As he passed your friends, you saw the terror burning through them, sweat dripping from their faces.

Your mind went hazy, just a little outside of your body as yet another chaotic force threatened those you loved.

Zoro flipped around as the sound roared too close, gripping your knees against his waist as he took the brunt of that liquid force.

You wished you had stayed dissociated, stayed out of your freezing body. Zoro’s rapid turn had shaken you enough that you took a deep breath, but it took every scrap of energy in you to keep your mouth closed, to not scream into that watery void.

Slipping, slipping away. The spinning torture through the rapid water had you reaching for your aching head, releasing your hold around his shoulders.

Zoro never let go. His hold started to slip, but he clamped down on your legs until they ached.

At least we’ll die together.

Your tears never had a chance, they just mixed with the wave that would drown you all.

“It’s alright. Just hang in there. I’m not going to let you die.”

A soothing voice washed over you, clear and calm through the flood. All you could do was fight to keep your mouth closed, letting yourself drift to wherever you might end up.

But something pulled at you, interrupting that chaotic drift. Your eyes opened, but the water burned, the world nothing more than a painful blur. Something had snared you, tugging you closer to Zoro, and you could feel another wriggling body against your side.

At least we’re all together.

“I’m swimming as fast as this tail will let me! None of you are gonna die on my watch!”

Kokoro’s voice carried through the water, and you almost cried out, managing to clamp your hands over your lips as the bodies around you seemed to writhe against the shock.

What the fuck?

But it was too long. You couldn’t hold it.

The choking pain tore through your chest, the struggle to stay finally fading.

Just cold.

“Y/N! Y/N!”

Too many hands rolled you onto your side as scorching water tore through your throat.

Your stinging eyes watched the water that left your lungs as it spread across wood, staining the black clothes of the person holding your hair back.

The person whose many hands held your body, whose voice cracked as she repeated your name.

“Robin?”

She let out a cry of relief, pulling your body gently as she held you against her chest.

“Is this real,” you breathed, managing to move your arms to wrap around her.

“It’s real. You saved me.”

You felt the warmth of her cheek against your temple, and if you’d had the energy, you would have wept.

“I didn’t do–”

“You came for me, Y/N. And you saved me,” Robin countered before you could finish your thought. Many arms held you up so that she could look at you, and tears managed to fall from your tired eyes at the sight of her beautiful face. Stunning, even marred with dirt and blood.

“I love you too,” she confessed, a wave of fear filling those eyes before she cried it away, laughing before she kissed your cold lips.

It didn’t matter where you were, or how much danger you were still in. Robin was holding you, kissing you. The two of you laughed and sobbed as voices moved around you, orbiting your perfect world.

“Sweethearts, are you okay?”

Sanji’s rough voice moved closer, and you finally looked around to find yourself on a ship. An empty marine ship, whose deck was covered with your crew, and all the water they’d ripped from their lungs.

Your cook crawled over, seeming hesitant to get too close.

Robin reached out, and you smiled at that sweet look of awe on Sanji’s face as he gazed at her.

“I–”

“I love you, Robin,” Sanji cut her off, racing to touch both of you, a gentle hand on your cheeks.

“I love you too, Sanji,” she said with a laugh, and your heart melted as they shared their own salty kiss.

Cannon fire and shouting were distant as the three of you held each other, laughter and tears like a shield from the danger that remained.

But it wasn’t complete.

A shiver ran up your neck, a warm vibration pulling your eyes away from Robin and Sanji.

Zoro sat with his back against the railing, giving you a small smile as you caught him staring. He shook his head when you held out your hand.

A frown pulled at your smiling lips as he mouthed, ‘it’s okay,’ nodding his head toward your other lovers.

“Please,” you whispered, hoping he could see how much you wanted him too.

How much you needed him.

He coughed, wiping more water from his brow before he crawled across the deck.

You and Robin clung to each other, laughter and tears still spilling from you. Sanji poured out streams of praise and words of love as he hugged you both from behind Robin’s back.

Your swordsman came to you, and his soaked body warmed yours as he wrapped his arms around you. He joined the group embrace without flinching away, pressing a wet kiss against your shoulder.

It was all worth it. You’d go through all of that again, just to have this perfect moment.

All of your lovers holding you close. Safe, if only for the moment.

All of your crew on this stolen ship, ready to escape this hell.

All of your…

Zoro’s body went rigid, leaving you cold again as he leapt to his feet.

His words cut through it all. No more laughter or tears could be freed until his question had an answer.

“Where’s Luffy?”

Likes, comments, and reblogs bring me much ✨dopamine✨ thank you so much!

a/n: I love them all so much 😭😭😭

Part 28

#nico robin x fem!reader #zoro x reader #sanji x reader #sanji x robin #angst #f/f fanfic #reader insert #fem!reader #nico robin x reader #poly fanfic #nico robin fanfic #sanji fanfic #one piece fanfic #zoro fanfic #x reader #turtletaub fics #one piece x reader #use of y/n

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yandere-daze · 2 years

Note

I don't know if you want to make this request of mine, but I would be very grateful... How would it be if was Yanderes! Twisted Wonderland (dorm leaders) in love with the same reader?

Ohoho I sure can! Man being in that situation would be so scary, good lord, can you imagine? I guess now you can jsfaönf

I decided to finally feed my twst readers again after starving them for so long. I hope you enjoy!

Likes and reblogs are appreciated!

gn reader

tw yandere, obsession, possessiveness, jealousy, mention of murder, mention of violence, kidnapping/ abduction, manipulation, stalking, emotional manipulation

Yandere! dorm leaders that are in love with the same darling

Okay but this is going to be utter chaos, you just know it. Most of the dorm leaders can barely tolerate each other in the first place without a fight breaking out, then you add them being yandere ( and as such, more unhinged) ,and then to add insult to injury they all like the same person? Yeah, that´s a recipe for disaster

I honestly don´t think any of them are willing to share? They want to have you for themselves without anyone else interfering

Riddle Rosehearts

Riddle blows a fuse when he gets wind of this. He already has a harsh temper to begin with but he loses all of his composure when it concerns his darling. Do the other dorm leaders think they can just simply steal you away from him? How utterly unacceptable! He is the most hard-working and flawless student here at Night Raven College so he also deserves your love the most out of everyone here!

He´s honestly so annoyed and angry when he sees one of the others talking to you that he takes out his anger on his poor dorm members that he now collars for the slightest of offenses. It´s like chapter 1 never even happened, his reign of terror is reinstated all at once

And yet at the same time, he would take advantage of the fact that your two closest friends are members of Heartslabyul. You´re bound to want to visit them often to hang out with them, right? So of course it´s only a coincidence that you´ll often find Riddle staying close to their room to greet you and sweep you away when he gets the chance. Of course he wasn´t waiting around for you or anything like that, it´s only natural that he keeps a close eye on those two troublemakers to make sure they don´t get involved in any hijinks again, right? It´s what a responsible dorm leader should do

So while you´re at it, why don´t you join him for a nice cup of tea? He´s told Trey to bake some treats that are just to their liking. So please spend some time with him!

Leona Kingscholar

Leona is one that often doesn´t bother with putting in a lot of effort, simply because he doesn´t think his efforts would ever be rewarded. Why would he give it his all when he knows it´s not going to matter in the end? But this here is different. You´re one of the only people that have shown true understanding for his position as the second-born prince and for once he feels like he needs to try his very best when it comes to winning you over

Leone is no fool, he´s quick to figure out that the other dorm leaders seem to love you in the same obsessed way that he does. It makes him angry to think that anyone else would dare try to stake their claim on you when he´s already decided that you would be his mate. For once in his life, he refuses to play the second fiddle. He wants you and he´s not going to shirk back from using dirty means to get what he wants. He probably orders Ruggie to use his unique magic again to make the other dorm leaders hurt themselves to put them out of commission for long enough to hopefully win you over. If pushed far enough I´m sure Leona wouldn´t hesitate to use King´s roar either. He was so close to killing Ruggie, someone that is actually a big help to him, so why would he ever hold back against his rivals?

Leona is very aware that he needs to fight dirty if he wants to break free from always being in second place

Azul Ashengrotto

Azul is very displeased when he finds out that he isn´t the only one to be harboring feelings for you. It probably took him a lot of time to come to terms with his own “love” for you, not one to freely show his deeper emotions to anyone else, he doesn´t like to feel vulnerable. And yet, whenever he lays eyes on you, Azul feels more vulnerable than ever before. And he finds that he doesn´t hate it as much as he would have thought

But he very much hates his current predicament. All those other fools are head-over-heels for you as well and it makes him more insecure than he would ever admit. Of course he´s primarily upset because he wants you for his own but when he sees the kind of people he needs to compete with ( literal royalty and a celebrity) he can´t help but be caught up in his old insecurities. It makes him want to hide away more than anything but he won´t let himself do that. He knows that you´re meant to be his so he´s not going to ever give up on you

Azul enlists the help of the Leech twins who are more than eager to assist him, if only for their own amusement over the situation. They´ve been given the order to stay around you as much as possible when Azul isn´t able to, to help chase away anyone that might try to approach you. Them being around isn´t enough to stop all of them but their intimidating presence surely has some effect at least. They also tell him any kind of detail about you that they´ve found out about through their tailing.

He tries to get all the information he can about you, both to soothe his craving to know as much about you as he possibly can, but also to know how to entice you into signing a contract that will bind the two of you together forever. Once your fate is sealed, he won´t have to worry about any of the others ever taking you away from him

Kalim Al-Asim

Honestly speaking, Kalim would probably be the only one here not to notice how the other dorm leaders feel about you. He´s a very delusional yandere to begin with, not seeing anything wrong with how intensely he loves you. That´s just a sign of true love, right? Isn´t it just so great that he would do absolutely everything to ensure your “happiness” even if you didn´t ask for anything?

He just goes about courting you like he usually would: showering you with many very expensive but unwanted gifts and clinging to you for as long as he can. It´s just him showing his affection for you so he doesn´t see any reason as to why you might want to reject any of his presents. Do you really have the heart to disappoint someone as nice and sweet as Kalim? Do you want to make him cry? Please just accept whatever invitation he throws your way before things get too difficult

Jamil would likely feel obligated to help Kalim out because he simply can´t handle the other moping around and sobbing all day whenever you express displeasure at staying over for too long or you react negatively to the 5th elephant parade this week. Jamil probably understands why you would feel overwhelmed with all of Kalim´s grandiose shows of affection but he really can´t be bothered to deal with his miserable self for even a second longer. He also fears that his family might be in trouble if it came out that he didn´t help Kalim when it came to winning over his “one true love” so sorry, but he´ll need to prioritize his family´s safety over yours

Unlike Kalim, Jamil would very quickly realize what kind of competition they´re dealing with and would thus function as a sort of enabler for Kalim´s overbearingly clingy tendencies. He knows they need to act quickly before anyone else gets the chance

Wouldn´t it be a good idea for Kalim to introduce you to his parents already as his lover so you can get a wedding prepared for as soon as possible? Kalim would of course jump at the chance and try to seal the deal as soon as possible. He doesn´t see any reason to wait when you both love each other so much!

Vil Schoenheit

Just absolutely unbelievable. Do these potatoes really think they have a chance against him? No one is as beautiful, elegant and skilled as Vil Schoenheit and thus no one is more suited to be with you than him. The moment he had first laid eyes upon you he had decided that you were perfect in every way, inside and out. Vil is usually very strict when it comes to both himself and others but for some unexplainable reason, he felt this pull towards you from the very beginning. Even if logically speaking there is no person without any flaws, he is more than willing to overlook any of yours

You have managed to capture his heart and so you must take responsibility for that by letting him win over yours in return. He´s always made an effort to look the best he can but now he´s spending even more time every day, to improve himself even more, if that is even possible, to draw your attention and impress you. Maybe if he appeals to your preferences you will finally spare him a glance and bless him with your presence

He works so hard every day, which only drives him to be angrier when Rook tells him that he isn´t the only one that has laid their eyes on you. He huffs and shakes his head in dismay with a joyless smile on his face, already contemplating how he is going to deal with this

Vil is an actor so he´s more than capable of acting out whatever kind of person appeals to you the most. If he feels like you might be showing some sort of interest in one of his rivals then he might start to copy some of their mannerisms to hopefully draw your eye again. You only need to look at him, dear! Vil is the most deserving of your love out of all of them. No one else but him could hope to ever come close to your level of perfection, he is the only one that is suited to be with you

If he feels like he needs to ( he feels you slipping away), Vil is also willing to poison his rivals, as we´ve seen with Neige in the main story. He loves you too much to let anyone else have so he´s going to make sure he´s the only one remaining once the curtain falls

Idia Shroud

Idia probably starts noticing that he has some competition when he keeps seeing the other dorm leaders approach you as he is watching you through one of the many cameras he had installed all throughout NRC and your room to be able to look at you at every time of day without leaving the comfort of his room. He might have been able to look past it if it had only been a one-time thing but with the frequency of how often they´ve been seeking you out lately, he knows that something is up

And boy oh boy, Idia is not happy at all when he puts 2 and 2 together. He honestly feels like breaking his pc out of frustration when he sees the others attempt to flirt with you while he can´t even stand face-to-face with you. Idia is cursing his own social ineptitude more than ever before as he has no choice but to curse and grumble as he sees everything unfold in front of him

Idia already thought that he had no chance with you, I mean who would be interested in a weird shut-in like him? It´s the very reason why he had settled for just watching your daily life through all of these cameras instead of trying to strike up a conversation with you. The very thought of standing so close to you already makes him shiver with both excitement and fear

But that doesn´t mean at all that he would let anyone else date you. That´s not how this is going to go! He knows that they´re probably better picks for a boyfriend than he is but he hates the very thought of you being with someone else. Maybe it´s time to jump over his shadow and finally take action

So he decides to start mission “Send out Ortho to lure them into my room and then I´ll never let them leave again”. It definitely isn´t a fool-proof plan but Idia doesn´t want to simply stand by anymore if it means you might be taken from him. He´s sure Ortho is friendly enough to be able to pull it off and then it wouldn´t even matter if you found him disgusting, as long as he kept the electronic locks on his doors shut tight, you wouldn´t be able to leave him any more

Malleus Draconia

Malleus isn´t well-versed in the act of human courting but he´s intelligent enough to pick up on the way his fellow dorm leaders look at you. They look at you the same way he does: lovesick and full of desire to become your significant other. And this just isn´t something Malleus would stand for. As a draconic fae, he´s just as possessive with his darling as were the dragons that would hide away their treasures from the rest of the world. Once he has his eyes on you, he´s not going to let up until you´re completely his for all of eternity

He never thought he would find the one that was destined to be with him at this very school but it nevertheless happened. You were the first person not to fear him and to genuinely call him a friend, something that filled Malleus with happiness like nothing before. Nowadays he feels a bitter feeling pool up inside of him whenever you call him a mere friend, but the original point still stands. You were the first person that treated him as a regular fellow student and because of that he quickly grew attached to you, his own very special human

So he´s very angry ,to say the least when he figures out that he isn´t the only one laying claim to your heart. He´s so enraged in fact, that he needs to be held back by the rest of Diasomnia or he would have ended up just killing all of his rivals with the help of his powerful magic. Malleus truly knows no mercy when it comes to having you all for himself. He won´t let any of them look at you for even a second longer.

If he isn´t allowed to just get rid of everyone else because it might start a major conflict between all of their nations, he simply has to take you away from Night Raven College to somewhere only he has access to. If he were to lock you into a high tower, far away from any kind of civilization, then no one else would be able to speak to you ever again. It would only be you and Malleus. Isn´t that just wonderful?

Of course Malleus is going to make sure to visit you as often as he can so please don´t look so sad, alright? You don´t need any of your so-called “friends” anymore, you have him now! He´s not going to let anyone interfere with your relationship ever again

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