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artycomicfangirl · 2 days

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Princess Daisy’s Past, Her Family, and her Kingdom

Personal Headcanons List so far

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Because it seemed like quite a few people were interested in some of my Daisy fan works. I decided to release this list of headcanons, which I actually found out I abandoned a while ago. Just decided to polish up and add more!

Before I go on, I just would like to add some context of my own kind-of AU and lore about Daisy’s father. (Since the fandom calls him Richard, I’ll be using that name too!) Some of these are just complete brainstorming. So in the future, info might change.

Now we got that out of the way, hope you enjoy this almost mini-book length lore, haha. Take your time, no pressure. But consider this as a little treat for those who love fan-lores and such!

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Sarasaland’s History

Sarasaland was either a Barren wasteland, where 4 Kingdoms have been at each other’s throats for a long time in prior history.

Or, it was once a prosperous land. But one where it had been oppressed and enslaved by a crueler rule.

Whichever idea I was planning, it’s important to know that before Current Sarasaland, it was said to have been a bleak and dark place where “Not even flowers would even dare bloom”. The innocent folk there always dreamed of seeing beautiful fields of flowers.

There was supposed to be a miracle event that was recorded in a historical book entry about the day that Sarasaland was saved. From an account written by someone unknown:

“…Gone was the grey, somber Plume Filled Sky. When the Rays of light shone through, For the first time in ages, we saw crystal blue. Blessed by a miracle, the sight of flowers blooming all across the land. We have been kept in darkness for so long, now finally free from a cruel ironic-clad hand.”

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Daisy and her Family

Daisy’s Father

I had ideas that Daisy’s Father may not even have originally been of royal blood at all. However, he ended up being the ‘Hero’ of his time long ago, when he and his comrades swore to save Sarasaland. And because of his spirit in battle and admirable leadership, he was chosen to be the King of the Land. A bit like Mario and Luigi being the signature heroes of Mushroom Kingdom.

The way Richard was crowned Prince could be similar to how Princess Peach would go through a process in the Super Mario Bros movie 2023. A time period of training, until he was very much ready to be crowned.

I 100% believe that this is a like Father, like Daughter situation. Daisy has inherited much more of her personality from her Father than her mother, and it shows. People would wonder how a Princess can be so battle-ready, rough and brave? Just take one look at her Father, and you’ll see why! She has very much inherited her his stubborn, and often at times very energetic and silly nature.

Personality wise, I assume that current Richard is overall, a tough man. A Veteran. He might look a bit too intimidating. But deep down, he still has a good heart that cares for the well-being of those around him.

Even more so, he melts when he’s around his wife. He adores his daughter even more so, because she is all he has left. So I guess we can believe with certainty, that Richard is definitely an overprotective type over things he loves and cares for.

When he was his younger self, he was more of a Bright-Eyed and determined youth. Leaning towards more of the stereotypical hero figure. Over time, he did learn to become a stronger and good leader. But as he grew older, there show the traces of a slightly grumpy older man.

There was that point where he did made sure to keep a child Daisy in the confines of the castle, right after losing his wife.

At first, the subjects and other 4 Kings thought this was a necessary and appropriate idea. But a while after, they started to think that the Princess might be sad if she was to constantly be watched over and told to stop doing things and be careful.

The King’s mindset would end up changing, when he finds a Diary that his wife used to own around the time when they were both still Prince and Princess.

The contents of the diary contained deep, poignant feelings and emotions. The most that moved his heart, was when she would describe her love for the King. All in all, Richard got an insight of his late Wife’s thoughts. Her happiest moments showed how genuine, kind and free the Queen felt, and how much of a beautiful person she was inside and out.

It was then Richard decided to do what was right, and to raise his Daughter to not always just be cautious and meek. But to be brave, carefree and unafraid, letting her flourish to be her best self. So that in the future, he would be able to have more faith in Daisy being able to take care and fight for herself.

At the beginning, He began teaching Daisy at a young age on how to fight and defend herself, along with giving her scholars that teach her about Sarasaland’s history. It’s a bit later that Richard had the idea of Daisy being also mentored by the 4 Kings in Sarasaland. This is the reason why Daisy is so headstrong and strategic as she is now. Also opening for the idea of her having a close familal relationship with the other Kingdoms, and how much they trust and have faith in her.

I actually thought it would be an interesting take to get some inspirations from the 1993 Daisy in the live action Super Mario Bros movie. A personal Headcanon (And inspired from her original personality), is that despite being a tomboy, Daisy values and treasures history and culture. Being quite knowledgeable in some things across the cultures of the 4 Kingdoms under her rule.

It’s because Richard wanted Daisy to be able to know her kingdom like the back of her palm. In fact, Daisy’s vast knowledge with certain historical things comes off as a surprise to most others. It may be even implied that Daisy could even be able to read and speak certain languages. Funnily enough, Daisy is also quite savvy when it comes to financial things.

But with Daisy being Daisy, she is more of an assertive Soldier/Leader. A bit different to Peach being a calm and caring Diplomat.

On the Day Tatanga made his presence known, the King only found out about the invasion during his usual visitings with the Palace Scientist’s (A bit like their version of Prof E. Gadd).

One of the Scientists gave reports about how for the past few days, there have been strange activity of something entering and lingering within the world’s Atmosphere, Somewhere above Sarasaland. This strange activity would try to emit signals. which each time, seem to grow more powerful every day.

After Richard asks when the next signal could be predicted, all computers and systems were hijacked. Each and every communicative technology displaying a sinister message, Implication of an invasion. The King immediately took action, initiating an entire announcement throughout the entire land. However, they were little too late.

The Main Sarasaland Palace was seized as Tatanga and his army would make his appearance. But not wanting to give up, The King was able to cause a rebellion. Sparking the first Battle with the Alien Army.

At this point is where I thought of the idea that originally, it seemed like that Both the King and his daughter were going to escape together, trying to reach one of the Warp pipes.

However, the big reveal was that The King had only wanted to assist his Daughter in making sure the Future Heir of Sarasaland, would escape safety. Richard would stay and fend for the Kingdom he swore to protect. As he said “Much like your mother did in her last moments, before they took her away.”

Richard believed that because The Aliens had been above their land for quite some time before they attacked, they had been surveying the land down below. And in turn, knew everything on what to expect. If Daisy were to escape, it was highly likely that she could reach other Kingdoms in time and ask for help, places where Tatanga would have not been able to reach just yet.

Daisy initially refused to leave her Father. But at the end, Richard ordered the Sphinx King Totomesu to take Daisy away to the last warp pipe. And that once Daisy was able to be transferred successfully, to destroy the Warp pipe afterwards. The last thing that Daisy saw before she was knocked out from the Warp Pipe being destroyed, was her father and the other 4 Kings going right into battle.

Usually I would go the route of “Parents have died” route. But I’m juggling with a potential idea that in fact, both of Daisy’s parents are not actually dead. She may have initially thought so. But both her Mother and Father in both occurrences, have only been taken away. But in Daisy’s case, she has witnessed Tatanga perform the mind control across almost all residents of Sarasaland.

It is through her Father’s will, which drives Daisy to take back and free her Kingdom and her father.

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Daisy’s Mother

(She is sort of like a Fan Character/Oc at the point. And because I have a name for her, I’ll be referring to her as such here!)

Queen Laelia. A woman of knowledge and intellect, A preserver and appreciator of history and culture. She is pictured to be calm, elegant, kind, gentle and wise. However, she is also known to be firm and confident when it comes to decision making. Yet also understanding and more willing to hear the perspectives of anyone to gain an understanding of them.

Her Namesake is inspired from the Laelia Orchid flower, known for its purple colour. She might have some hint of magical abilities, or has a connection with magical places or objects.

Laelia could potentially be a descendant of long past ancestors from Sarasaland. That, or her ancestors were known to have an old holiday home/territory/Base somewhere located within one corner or Sarasaland. However during her time before she met Richard, she only knew life of her own Kingdom, located across the sea.

Because of this, she always felt like there was a ‘calling’ for her to one day see Sarasaland. Yet, she couldn’t quite place why. Her name might serve as a little indicator that Her Ancestors adopted the floral naming ideas, showing how deep their connection with the homeland runs.

Surprisingly, It’s Laelia whose main role as the Botanist/Plant specialist in the family. Daisy just ends up sharing and taking up similar hobbies and passions as her Mother did. But Daisy might more under the Explorer/Archaeologist role.

A young Princess Laelia would have met a Prince Richard when she was arriving to Sarasaland. Her Royal family treated this trip as a big deal, as this would be the first time they were able to set foot on Sarasaland docks. About a year or more prior, was when the news of Sarasaland being saved became public celebration.

The Princess and her family were impressed at the efforts for the 4 Kings in making the most of their efforts to restore Sarasaland to its former beauty. And even moreso shocked, as the Princess was always told that for the longest time, Sarasaland had lost its beauty and flowers. Yet here, the land was now thriving with no more war.

Laelia’s Interactions with Richard began when the Prince offered to give her a tour of Sarasaland, when she personally asked to be able to learn more as a part of her research and studies. Surprisingly, the Prince took up the role of Acting almost like a guide or advisor to her and her family.

This would lead to The Princess being curious as to why he offered to personally guide her, instead of sending a subject instead. The Prince mentions how much pride and love he has for the land. And how he will always wholeheartedly be a supporter to advocate for how much the Land changed him for the better. It was his job to oversee as much of the responsibility he can, so all of the civilians can live life in peace and free from worry. However, he mentions that if the Princess would like to have interviews with some of the local folk, he’ll gladly let her.

While Laelia’s family had to return to their kingdom, she opted to stay in Sarasaland for a while in order to keep watch, and to learn more about the development and culture. She promised that she would come home some time after them.

However, during this window of time, the Princess was slowly growing attached to Sarasaland. And unbeknownst to her, The Prince was the first to Harbor feelings for her as time went on. This would all build up throughout more interactions with the Prince, and soon ended up falling in love with one another.

When it was time for her to go back to her kingdom, she of course felt sadness when Even when she promised that one day she will return. But at that point, the thought of not being able to see Richard again made her feel down.

This would later be picked up by a family member (Could be mother, uncle, aunt or sibling ect) who couldn’t help but be concerned about the Princess. At first, the Princess tries to hide this, as her time there was meant to be strictly professional. But said family member would put the pieces together. Commenting how they noticed that from reports they heard, Laelia looked like she belonged there. That she had a newfound happiness.

This would later become a process of Laelia discussing with her Father. The King arranging to return to Sarasaland again with his daughter. And after some further discussion between two Kingdoms, there would come to an agreement that re-uniting and reforming an alliance that was once broken, would be the first beneficial step for both Kingdoms.

After a Wedding being arranged and taken place in Sarasaland. The Princess would gain her title as Queen, and the Prince now became a King.

Some time after, The Queen would give birth to their first and only child, A Daughter. They decided to name her Daisy, after the Queen’s favourite flowers.

(*NOTE!! At this point I’m not so concrete and fleshed out on this part of the story next, so these are just potential ideas)

The Queen would be able to be with her Daughter throughout most of her early childhood. However, the first life-changing incident would happen at a festival at the Queen’s home Kingdom.

During the yearly festival, an attack was made where a Villain wanted to take something from the kingdom. Maybe an object that radiated energy or held ancient secrets and knowledge that kept the kingdom thriving. A planned mission. All in all, if this object was taken, the Kingdom would call into Chaos.

At this point, there may be an implication that Daisy’s Mother has a magical ability. ( a Hand Power?? Similar to Firebrand or Thunderhand?) Maybe always born with one. So even when the enemy had failed to take the Prized object. They unfortunately managed to take Daisy’s Mother away. And the little Princess had witnessed it all.

Both Kingdoms were left grieving immensely after the incident. And even as both sides tried to heal over time, this was where Richard would have developed that time period of protectiveness over his Daughter for a little while.

#super mario #nintendo #the super mario bros movie #princess daisy #super mario land #fan character #headcanons #headcanon #fan lore #super mario movie #head canon #lore #sarasaland

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lorereadsclassics7 · 2 years

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September 17th

"Letter, Mina Harker to Lucy Westenra (unopened by her)"

#dracula daily #bram stokers dracula #dracula #lucy westenra #mina harker #that is such a cruel way to start an entry #like my heart #Mina doesn't deserve that #Lucy doesn't deserve that #Mr Stoker I want my money back bc this book made me cry

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so-called-quail · 2 months

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'Trapped in the end!' said Sam bitterly, his anger rising again above weariness and despair. 'Gnats in a net. May the curse of Faramir bite that Gollum and bite him quick!' 'That would not help us now,' said Frodo.

Sword in hand Sam went after him. For the moment he had forgotten everything else but the red fury in his brain and the desire to kill Gollum. But before he could overtake him, Gollum was gone. Then as the dark hole stood before him and the stench came out to meet him, like a clap of thunder the thought of Frodo and the monster smote upon Sam's mind.

Now he tried to find strength to tear himself away and go on a lonely journey – for vengeance. If once he could go, his anger would bear him down all the roads of the world, pursuing, until he had him at last: Gollum. Then Gollum would die in a corner. But that was not what he had set out to do. It would not be worth while to leave his master for that. It would not bring him back. Nothing would.

Sam and vengeance in today's entry

#idk i have Thoughts about this... rambles ahead...#there's an interesting arc here with how sam approaches his feelings of vengeance in this entry #starting with the first quote. frodo's response to sam is so brief and doesn't get much time to sit with all the action going on #but i feel like it speaks volumes #at least in showcasing the different points they stand on #sam centers his resentment and feelings of revenge... he's quick to get frustrated and immediately goes for threatening gollum #meanwhile frodo is focused on getting out. he doesn't have time to nurse anger nor does he want to #it feels like he's advising sam to move past it because he knows it's futile to stay stuck in those feelings #then there's sam's fight with gollum #after days and weeks of building tension from his mistrust towards gollum... this is where the dam finally breaks #sam's been feeding into his resentment for SO LONG it's no wonder he gets into this state of blind fury towards the end #he set himself up to seek vengeance the moment he gets the opportunity #which in some way i'm sure does help him in fending off gollum... that strength had to come from somewhere #but once he's staved him off he continues to fixate that anger on gollum and forgets what he originally set out to do-- protect frodo #and then we're left with the final quote...#it isn't until sam has (perceived to have) lost everything that he is able to come to the conclusion that vengeance won't serve him #...a lesson learned a little too late?? maybe?? no?? it feels cruel to say that #i definitely do not want to take the position that sam was responsible for what happened to frodo #he was pinned in a horribly desperate situation and couldn't do much once gollum attacked #i don't think much would've changed if he hadn't had his moment of fury with chasing gollum #anyways newbie here-- i haven't read anything ahead from here so idk what character arcs await sam #but i'm interested to see if this is later built upon or acknowledged #end of rambles skdfjgkdjsfg #lotr newsletter #lotr newsletter march 13th #EDIT: I forgot to space the quotes out 😭#not a crime but they can get confusing to read when scrunched together hrnnnn

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bragganhyl · 6 months

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ngl these "which eoran god is/isn't problematic" polls make me wanna rant about Magran but I don't have the braincells rn

edit: i did end up ranting in the tags whoopsie lmao

#hablaty #I love magran as a character and as an... imperfect to say the least goddess #but I will also blow a gasket if my fire godlike watcher won't ever get the option to drive a sword through her heart #bc holy shit do i also hate her #she too is a ''god of staying in your lane'' really she only ever steps in to intervene if some god or another starts shit #thing is tho: her followers aren't like her #a lot of folks of the violent murder hobo variety is drawn to her bc god of fire and war and whatnot #but if you read the codex entries on her she doesn't actually urge people to start wars #the doctrines are actually more along the lines of ''don't start shit take no shit'' or idk #don't go out of your way to start a conflict for no reason but be always ready for war basically #she pushes people to embrace their power and strive for bettering themselves through struggle #problem is that bc like i said she ghosts her followers a lot of her followers will just take these doctrines to justify their atrocities #she doesn't want eothasians gone bc she doesn't care enough about them to want that #she doesn't want animancers gone bc she supports animancy #but she won't stop her followers bc she doesn't interfere with kith unless she has to protect them from the other gods #but also on the flip side if she does step in she will stop at nothing to win #even if that means building god killing weapons and then having her priests off themselves deploying it #even if that means wiping out her own fire giant children in a volcanic eruption (whomst you can save btw pls save the rathunn they're nice #and even if that means eating the souls of her godlike children who #magran is incredible cruel and also very cool and I have very complex feelings on her and just aaaa

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yeetus-feetus · 4 months

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Today my mother made me go to the beach. And while I was there I let myself enjoy the water and sand between my toes.

After a little while I felt like crying.

I felt like crying because remembered the videos I had seen of Palestinian children playing in the water of their beaches, of parents chasing children around while they laughed, of people enjoying the water and feeling the sand between their toes.

Then I thought about how these people don't get to enjoy their beaches anymore. Because Israel won't let them, because Israel is bombing the families who used to play in the sand.

When we got in the car my mum rolled all the windows down, said something about the fresh air. And as we drove I felt the cool wind against my face, in my hair.

And I wanted to cry.

Because the people in Gaza don't get to just enjoy the fresh air. Because all they're breathing in is debris from destroyed buildings and white phosphorus, and the smell of the dead.

I looked out my window and saw my old school as we passed. And I felt guilty, because I dropped out. But their are children in Palestine who are crying and begging to go back to school and they can't.

The children in Gaza can't go back to school because Israel has destroyed and bombed them.

And I think about the displaced people taking refuge in those very schools while Israel attacked them. I think about how unfair and cruel that is.

And then I see the trees. My favourite trees, Gum trees that are native to my land. And I think about how the native trees in Gaza are being destroyed and bulldozed, very important trees that mean a lot to the Palestinian people. And those trees are being taken away by Israel.

Then there are houses, homes and people going about their day. I watch them from my car window and I want to cry still. Because the people in Gaza have no homes, they don't get to go about their day.

I think about the displaced people in Gaza, who are lucky to have a tent to sleep in. Because Israel has bombed their homes, rained white phosphorus above their homes, bulldozed over their homes, forced the Palestinian people to flee from their homes.

I'm barely holding in my tears, because I'm in the car on the way to my own home and the people in Gaza don't get to do that.

We pass the shops, and my throat starts to close up because there's people buying ice cream and groceries for their families. And the people in Gaza are being starved by Israel.

The people in Gaza don't get to have ice cream, they can't do their grocery shopping. They don't even have enough food for their own children because Israel refuses to let any aid trucks in, because they control all the borders and entries into Gaza.

We pass by a chemist in particular and I think about all the children in Gaza not being able to receive medical care. Because the hospitals are being attacked by Israel. Because no medical aid can get in. Because they have doctors being killed.

And then we pass by the park. The park is empty. And I think about the empty parks in Gaza. Because there are no children to play on the swings, no children to run and laugh. Because the children are crying instead. The children have no legs to play because they've been bombed. They can't laugh because white phosphorus has burned through their faces. They can't do anything because they are frozen in fear.

Theses children who should be filling up empty parks are holding their baby siblings, trying to keep them alive because their parents, aunt's and uncles, have all been slaughtered by the IDF. These children who should be laughing are screaming out for help because members of the IDF are raping them.

These children who should be having fun at the park are prisoners of Israel for throwing rocks at tanks like the boy David who threw a rock at the giant Goliath to save his people. And these children are being tortured in these prisons because they were hopeful and brave.

These children who should be with their families at the park are dying. Are dead. A lying beneath the ruble. Are cold and limp with no air in their lungs. These children are in pieces scattered across the blood drenched ground.

They should have been at the park today.

I can hear a man talking on the radio, and he's talking about unimportant nonsense things and I feel angry. I feel frustrated. Because why is no one else talking about this!? Why is no one talking about what's happening to these people!??

We pass by the fresh water creak right before my house and I want to scream! Because I know there's no fresh water in Gaza. I know there are Palestinians dying of dehydration and yet there is fresh, drinkable water running right there! But the water in Palestine has been polluted by blood and disease, and the seawater Israel has flooded their water supply with.

And when I get to my bed I finally scream and cry and punch my mattress to get all my emotions out.

Now I'm numb and writing this so that someone will see it, hoping that someone will understand, hoping that someone will fight even harder for the people of Palestine.

I'm hoping that they can enjoy their beaches again. I hope that's sometime soon.

#palestine #free palestine #save palestine #save gaza #gaza #i stand with palestine #from the river to the sea palestine will be free #isreal #idf #fuck the idf #fuck isreal #end the occupation #occupied palestine

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dollfacefantasy · 2 months

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Like a Friend

pairing: toji fushiguro x fem!reader

summary: it's been months since you and toji split. when he shows up at your apartment, you struggle to not fall back into his arms.

cw: nsfw (18+), smut, p in v, toxic relationship dynamics

word count: 4.7k

a/n: commission for @nexysworld <3

One eye cracks open when a loud pounding sound rouses you from your sleep. You sit up, rubbing your face and yawning. The red numbers on your alarm clock glare 2:37. After a few more moments of it, you register the sound as knocking on your front door. As you drag yourself from the comforts of your bed, you wonder who and why. Who would not only disturb you at this hour, but also be so brash about it? You kind of hoped it was no one you knew so you wouldn’t have to deal with anyone’s bullshit problems at nearly three in the morning.

When you arrive at the entryway and glance through the peephole on the door, your wishes dissipate immediately. Standing outside your place was the biggest bullshit problem you’d ever encountered. You unlock your door and crack it open, the bright light of the hallway making you squint as it casts over you.

“Toji?” you ask, your voice still a bit raspy from disuse.

“Hey baby,” he says quietly. Despite his subdued tone, he still flashes you that grin that lets you know he’s still himself.

“What… what are you doing here?” you mumble. You rub your face again to try and make yourself a little more presentable. Even though he was an asshole and you couldn’t say enough about how you had totally moved on, the sight of his shaggy hair hanging in front of his eyes and the faded scar on the corner of his mouth still made your heart flutter.

“The place I was staying kind of fell through. But you know, it’s kind of a good thing. Brought me back to you. I’ve been missing you a lot,” he says.

You roll your eyes. He must need more than just a night to get himself together with how thick he was laying it on.

He reaches out to stroke the curve of your cheek. His rough fingers drag against the soft skin while the two of you stare at each other. You know you should swat his hand away. Tell him to go to hell. Get lost and lose your number. But you can’t be that cruel. Not to him. Even with everything that’d happened, all the tears he’d caused and days he’d ruined, he was still your Toji. Your bad habit. Your never-ending vice. A piece of you that’d you’d never cut out no matter how rotten it became.

“Fine, c’mon,” you relent. You open the door wider and allow him entry.

“That’s my girl,” he says and steps through.

“Don’t call me that,” you say quietly. You were falling for it, but he didn’t have to throw it in your face.

After following you in, he doesn’t shut the door behind him. You raise an eyebrow.

“Before we catch up…” he starts with a chuckle, “I kind of need you to pay for my ride. I don’t have any cash on me.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?” you ask, walking to the window and looking down. As he said, the cab was waiting outside.

All the dreamy thoughts you’d just had about him being yours no matter what start to have a bleak tint. Your gaze hardens as a harsh sigh leaves your lips.

“Fine, but you’re gonna pay me back,” you say. You stop at the counter to grab your wallet and fish out some cash. Then you slap it into his palm and gesture for him to go. Sure you’d give him the money, but no way were you gonna scamper down there out into the cold in your pajamas.

He leans down and gives you a small peck on the cheek before heading out. You stand in your living room alone. He was still affectionate even though you’d been apart for months. You knew he was that way with his words. The occasional texts he sent you during this break always held copious amounts of “baby’s” and “my pretty girl’s.” You just didn’t expect him to touch you like nothing was different.

You rub your eyes in a mix of frustration and exhaustion. Deciding to be proactive, you occupy the small wait for his return by setting up some things on the couch. You rifle through the closet in the hallway to find some spare bedding. Pillows are easy, you toss two spare ones over to your couch. Blankets are more difficult. You initially grab the fluffy lavender one he gave you for your last birthday. It looked brand new. You hadn’t had much time to use it before you kicked him out. Then when it felt like he was actually gone for good, you’d clutched it to your chest while crying your eyes out for days. But since that week, it remained hidden away in the depths of this closet.

He probably wouldn’t even notice if you did put it out, but he didn’t need confirmation that you hadn’t thrown the stuff he gave you away. So instead, you pull out an old blue one with little fish all over it. You spread it out on the couch as he slips back into the apartment, this time closing the door and locking it. Your back is turned while smoothing out the wrinkles in the plush fabric, so you don’t see him sliding a leftover bill into his pocket.

As you finish up the makeshift bed on the couch, he approaches you. He places a cautious hand on your waist, his fingertips rubbing tiny strokes on your t-shirt.

“You’re really gonna put me out on the couch? I thought you’d want me in bed, all to yourself. Like old times,” he teases.

“I don’t want it to be like old times,” you say.

“C’mon, they weren’t all bad,” he says and pulls you a little closer, “You used to love to cuddle. You’d curl right up to me, give me those little kisses. We had a lot of fun together in that bed.”

You look up at him. His familiar eyes meet yours. It would be so easy to give in. To connect your lips and pull him back to your bed that had been missing his presence for months.

“We did. But not anymore. They’re good memories, and that’s it,” you say, turning your head and stepping away. You needed the distance between the two of you.

You further separate yourself from him by sitting in the chair near the couch. It was a single seat, no room for anyone else to slide in next to you and drape their arm around your shoulders. He knows what you’re doing of course. You can see the look of amusement in his eyes. This was how you got during fights. You just closed off, tried to remove yourself from him and not engage. It was kind of cute you hadn’t changed.

He plays along and sits down on the couch, leaning back into the cushions and propping his legs on your table. The silence between the two of you feels heavy. It fills up the room, suffocating any space words could have gone.

“Do you want a drink?” you manage to get out.

“I’m fine,” he says. And in contrast to you, he did seem fine. He seemed unbothered by the lack of conversation. He looked content to stare at you, drag his eyes over every detail of your figure.

“Are you ok?” you ask. You just couldn’t take the silence.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” he asks in return.

“Cause you said you didn’t have anywhere to go and the place you were staying, something went wrong,” you answer.

“That was nothing, I’m fine,” he deflects.

“Well I just want to know if I should be concerned if there’s a hit out on you or something. If someone’s gonna burst through my door in a few minutes cause you ripped them off,” you say and cross your arms.

“Nothing that serious. Just some lady problems,” he says with a smirk.

A dark cloud forms over your head at this. It wasn’t like he was cheating. You weren’t together anymore. But the thought of him with another woman drove you crazier than just about anything else. And of course he knew that.

“What happened? She get smart enough to kick your ass out?” you say, unsuccessfully masking the bitterness in your tone.

“Something like that,” he says. He pauses, still looking smug as ever. “Why? Are you jealous?”

“You wish,” you respond. He doesn’t seem to believe you.

Another bout of uncomfortable silence crowds the distance between you two. This time it’s broken by him.

“You got anyone I should be jealous of?” he asks.

“That’s none of your business,” you answer without a second thought.

“Guess not. I mean if you did, you probably wouldn’t be letting me crash on your couch. And anybody who was a real threat would be here. Would’ve answered the door instead of you,” he mocks.

You roll your eyes yet again. “You’re so smart,” you say.

He shrugs. “Only when it comes to you.”

Rage boils within you. You know you shouldn’t feed into him, give him what he wants by getting all riled up. Your rational mind knows this. But the irrational part of you loves the game. Walking as close as you can to the line without stepping across. Pulling and pulling until you feel something about to snap.

“Well I’m not like you. I take a while to move on since you actually mattered to me. I just can’t jump into someone else’s arms and pretend that nothing is different,” you say.

“Don’t start that shit. Don’t act like I’m some cold-blooded asshole who broke your innocent little heart,” he says. His eyes don’t leave you once.

“You did break my heart and you are a cold-blooded asshole, so tell me where the lie is,” you challenge.

“You aren’t innocent,” he states, “You could get just as nasty when we were fighting. And you’re the one who broke up with me.”

“Because you are a dick. Cause and effect. If you weren’t so insufferable, we wouldn’t have so many fights, and I wouldn’t have broken up with you,” you point out.

“So it’s all my fault? You never do anything wrong? Whatever you say, baby,” he says, now taunting you with the pet name.

“I didn’t say I never do anything wrong. But everything we fought about is because you did something stupid,” you say.

“I make a little mistake once in a while and you blow up on me. I think you just like fighting,” he says.

You dig your nails into the flesh of your arm to keep your temper from flaring. You begin to wonder if it’s too late to throw him out again. Part of you had the urge to go back in time and slap the version of yourself that let him in cause he was “your Toji.” But really, this was your Toji. Your Toji with his sleazy smile, dumb shaggy hair, smug eyes, and chilling voice. This was the man who had you hopelessly trapped.

“Whatever,” you huff, determined to prove him wrong. You rise from your chair and walk towards the hall that leads to your room. “I’m going back to bed. Do what you want, just stay out of my room. If you want to change, I can bring you some clothes.”

“You have clothes here that will fit me? Maybe I should be jealous,” he says, leaning forward and resting an elbow on his knee.

And instead of taking advantage of his assumption, like he would have done to you, your mouth opens and words fly out before you can even think of that.

“They’re your-” you start, your mental brakes screeching to a halt. Suddenly, you felt so stupid for putting so much thought into avoiding the purple blanket.

The smile that breaks out on his face is so wide it’s almost unsettling. It would be if it was anyone else.

“Aw baby,” he coos mockingly, “You didn’t get rid of my clothes? You still been using ‘em? Cause that’s fine you know. I like it when they smell like you.”

You didn’t even know what to say. You had used them a few times since he’d been gone, but it wasn’t like a regular thing. You did like that they smelled like him, and you liked hearing that he felt the same way about you. But he couldn’t win.

“Just shut up. Do you want them or not?” you say and look away.

“No, baby. I’ll be fine. Thank you,” he says, every word dripping with condescension.

You slink away without returning the courtesy. It takes you no time to collapse back into your bed, but resuming the sleep he had torn you from proves more difficult. Your thoughts just keep drifting back to him. You toss and turn, legs kicking away the blankets and then arms pulling them back.

He really was out there on your couch. You thought you may never see him again. You’d broken up a few times before over different small things, but this time felt different. It was supposed to be for real. But just like that, he came back.

Now that he had returned, you felt the dull ache for him returning as well. You had hoped it shrunk over time until eventually it didn’t exist, but here it was, showing itself again. You know you shouldn’t, but you were starting to regret not asking him to join you. He was fucking infuriating, but you had missed him so much. He could help push away the memories of loneliness that had occupied your bed in his wake.

After nearly an hour of this, you manage to slip into some form of sleep. It felt like you were still awake, but far away. You were floating, drifting around aimlessly. You were resting, but you probably wouldn’t feel that way if you woke up right now.

You’re deep enough that you don’t hear your door creaking open. You don’t feel the mattress dip slightly with additional weight. You don’t sense your blanket being lifted as another body slides in next to yours. You only begin to wake once you feel his skin on yours, his thick arms wrapping around you and pulling you close.

You babble tiredly as he presses kisses to the back of your neck. Humming in confusion, you turn and crack your eyes open to see what’s happening.

“Toji?” you croak when you register his face so close to yours.

He’s still kissing up and down your neck. His fingers trace little patterns on the skin of your waist. Once you realize it’s him and what he’s doing, you squirm. You whine and try to pry his arms off you.

“Stop. What'd I tell you? Quit it,” you grumble as you struggle more with him.

He squeezes you tighter and nuzzles you. “But it’s cold out there, sweetheart. Lonely too,” he murmurs.

“Don’t care. It’s the couch or the curb, so take your pick,” you yawn.

“Baby, it’s me. I’ve been missing you so bad. And I wasn’t being a very good guest before. Let me make it up to you a little,” he whispers.

“No,” you whine, “Make it up by letting me sleep.”

“You can sleep whenever. I’m here right now,” he purrs. His fingers ghost along your waist making you squirm and whine at the slight tickle.

“Why do you always have to be so annoying?” you huff and try to readjust to be comfortable within his hold since he shows no signs of letting up.

“You know you like it.”

He pulls you tighter against him and drags his nose against the curve of your neck, inhaling your scent. It felt good, natural more than anything else. Like this is how things should be.

“Has anyone been in this bed since I left?” he taunts.

“You already asked me about that, and it’s still none of your business,” you respond.

“Can’t be too careful. Especially with a cute thing like you,” he says.

“Just shut up and go to sleep. Count yourself lucky I’m not forcing you back to the couch,” you say as if you could actually force him to do anything.

“It’s been months. You really want sleep more than you want me?” he teases and nips at your earlobe.

The drag of his teeth on your flesh pulls you back into the waking world a bit more. Your sleepy eyes open more and take in the sight of his face. He looked almost innocent in a way, like he was truly just asking for another chance to connect.

He leans in for another kiss, this time catching your lips with his own. His toned chest and abdomen pressed against the softness of your side, and despite his claims of being cold, he felt like a space heater the way warmth radiated off him.

You indulge him a bit, gently reciprocating the affection for a moment. But after a few soft movements of your lips, you pull away.

“We can’t… I shouldn’t do this,” you whisper through the darkness of your bedroom.

“Why not?” he says back. His fingers rise to your face, stroking over your temple, from your hairline to your cheekbone.

“I can’t do this again. I’m tired of it. I’m tired of believing you’ll be different and then you’re not. And then we break up again and then make up a little bit later. It’s exhausting,” you sigh.

“It will be different this time, babe. You recognizing this stuff shows that it will be,” he says and brushes his thumb over your lips. He moves even closer to you, as close as he possibly can be. “You’re so pretty,” he murmurs.

The soft hum of his voice alone made you want to give in. Combine it with his gentle touches and firm body, you were fighting with your urges to let him ruin you. Your head tilts back to contemplate, and he takes advantage of the position to start peppering kisses on your throat, sucking love bites into the sensitive flesh.

“Toji,” you whimper, “Stop, you’re gonna leave a mark.”

“I wanna leave a mark, baby. Gotta remind everyone that you belong to me. Can’t have you forgetting either,” he mutters.

A breathy whine floats through your room, and one of your hands laces itself in his hair. You close it into a fist, giving the dark locks a little pull. Your mind was an echo chamber of don’t don’t don’t stop stop stop. But familiar heat bloomed between your legs as his large palm coasted up your side to find one of your breasts. The sound of his lips on your skin and his shallow breaths gave you heart palpitations.

“I didn’t forget,” you gasp softly as his fingers dig into your tit.

“Yeah? So you’re all mine still?” he teases.

“Mhm,” you hum, taking the last step to giving in.

“That’s right,” he says. You can feel his smirk against his neck. “My baby. Back where she belongs.”

“I missed you too,” you whimper as he continues the assault on your neck.

“I know you did,” he breathes as his tongue slides over your skin.

His hand continues to grope your breast. You arch into his touch, a wordless plea for more. He snakes the limb beneath the thin fabric of your shirt and finds your soft skin. With no barrier separating the two, his fingers toy with your nipple. They pinch and pull, twist and tease. They’re merciless until he feels the small bud start to peak. That acts as his signal to direct his attention downwards.

He moves to be more on top of you. His thumbs hook beneath the hem of your shirt and pull it up over the swell of your chest. Immediately, his mouth latches onto the nipple his fingers had neglected. His saliva coats the area as his tongue laves on the skin, getting it to rise to attention just as the other day.

“Been missin’ these perfect tits,” he mumbles before using his mouth again, “No one else could take care of ‘em like me.”

You whine and squirm a bit, your hands staying firm in their grip on his head. You nod along with his words. A completely thoughtless gesture. You didn’t even fully register them. Your mind simply believed he couldn’t be wrong while making you feel so good.

As he works on warming you up, he begins peeling off your clothing. Your shirt comes over your head and falls off the side of the bed. Your bottoms are next, slid down and flung away from the two of you. He kisses down your belly before leaning back on his knees. His shirt meets yours on the ground when he pulls it off.

You’d seen it so many times before, but you couldn’t help gawking at his figure. Your fingers glide up his abdomen, feeling every ridge in his abs. He smiles down at your wondrous expression.

“Remembering exactly what you missed, hm?” he asks.

You reach up to pull him down to you at the same time he starts lowering himself. Lips collide and hands slide all over now bare skin. Your fingers find the familiar grooves on his back that they always dug into when he was buried deep inside you. His digits snake beneath your panties and slip between your folds.

“You’re so fuckin’ wet,” he laughs against your mouth, “That’s probably just her natural reaction when I’m around though.”

You grumble in response and try to mute his words by making out. He cuts you a break and does shut up for once while rubbing your pussy some more and getting your panties off. It’s not long before he follows suit by freeing his cock and brushing it through your slick.

“Time to see if she’s as tight as I remember,” he grunts as he lines up and then sinks in.

Your heat engulfs him like it’s a natural fit. Your walls squeeze around him, the massaging sensation making his breaths more labor.

“Fuck… might be tighter. Think she’s begging me not to leave again,” he teases.

He begins thrusting, working his hips back and forth. He’s so big that he’s instantly hitting pleasure spots. You sigh and wrap your limbs around him more.

“Just be quiet,” you whimper as your cheeks burn.

“Not a fan of me making fun of you?” he mocks, “Doesn’t shock me since you didn’t before. You’re just usually more agreeable while stuffed full of cock.”

You go to argue, but the words in your throat die and shrivel up into a whine. Your body rocks with each of his motions. He’s not even going that hard yet, but you still feel his raw strength as his muscles flex against you.

“Aw, it’s ok, dollface. You just go a little dumb. It’s only natural for bratty girls like you,” he coos.

The whole time he continues, in and out. You stay tight around him, and you start thinking his theory about you not wanting him to leave may have some truth to it. This felt so good. So much better than the couple guys you’d had in between. And even though you are going to be fucked dumb soon enough, you’re not totally there yet.

“The only time you don’t act dumb is when you have your dick out,” you say between soft sounds of pleasure.

He grips your hips harder upon hearing your words. “That so?” he grunts. He picks up the pace, his pelvis making a loud noise every time it slams against your ass. “Like I said, the only time your silly little head isn’t clouded by your attitude is when I calm you down on my cock. So shut it and let all those thoughts melt away.”

And you listen because despite your little comments, you liked how it felt to lose everything except him. You couldn’t live without the feeling that nothing else in the world mattered but you and him. All your worries that plagued you during every other moment of the day transformed into distant ideas as the feeling of him battering into your cunt moved to the forefront.

And as much as you love feeling it, he loves watching it. He loves watching your eyes blank and become thoughtless, totally dependent on him to guide you to release. He was obsessed with the way you’d start to drool. Your inhibitions all but disappeared, and he couldn’t get enough. He’d never admit it to you, but he could never find anyone else with reactions that captivated him as much.

After an extra sharp thrust, your body seizes up and you shriek. “Toji!” you cry out.

“Mhm, never too dumb to remember that, are you? My little slut always knows who owns her,” he says.

You nod mindlessly, your head bobbing in wide movements. “Fuck me so good,” you babble, “No one else. Don’t want anyone else. Always gonna be you.”

“Good girl,” he grunts, “Pussy’s all for me. Takes me like it was made for me.”

“It’s all yours. Nobody else gets it,” you whine.

“Gonna be mine forever. Just look at you. No one else could do this to you. You ever fuck anyone else, and all they’re gonna get out of it is that they’re not as good as me,” he moans while ricocheting his hips off yours.

You gasp, getting to the point where words are an unrealistic concept.

“All your neighbors already know who this pussy belongs too. I’ve got you trained so well, I know my dumb little girl calls for me whenever she cums, even when I’m not there,” he whispers. His voice was starting to strain under the proximity of release. “Even when you’re just soooo mad at me. You press your toys to that pretty little clit to blow off steam, and you can’t help but cry out-”

“Toji!” you mewl as if he had been asking you. It was good to know your mind was still good for at least one word.

He grins like a madman and drills into you harder. Your limbs flail and your noises become short and rhythmic.

“You take any cock from any guy, and what are they hearing the whole time?” he asks.

“Toji!” you repeat.

“What was that? Don’t think they could hear you.”

“Toji, Toji, Toji,” you sob out.

“Good baby. Perfect little whore all for me. Never letting you go again,” he grunts.

“Never gonna be apart again. Gonna be yours forever,” you mumble.

Both of your breathing is picking up. Your chests puff against each other as your sweaty skin rubs against one another. It’s all a blur at the end, like always. You think you cum first, but as soon as you hit that high, you pretty much black out. The room spins and your vision fills with stars. All you really register are his groans that make your tummy flutter, and the feeling of his warmth flooding your pussy as he shoots his load inside.

This time though, the after part is fuzzy too. You vaguely feel him pull out and guide you to lay against his chest. You feel his lips against your head and his large hands cradling you close, but then you’re gone. You pass out and sleep till late in the morning.

By the time your eyes reopen, the room is full of sunlight. You take a second to remember the previous night and all that happened. Surprisingly, a sense of regret didn’t crash into you like a swat van. You actually feel some sort of satisfaction. You feel sated. The ache is gone at least for now. You have him back. As he opens his eyes and sits up to give you a kiss, you return the gesture in full.

“You gonna stay a while?” you whisper.

“Yeah. No reason for me to leave,” he says.

You give him another kiss before he lies down again and pulls you onto his chest again to rest some more. You sink into his toned body. He was yours again. You could admit now that you never stopped being his. As you lay there and absorb the dreamy atmosphere in your room right now, your poor heart truly believes that this time will be different.

#jjk x reader #jjk smut #jujustu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen smut #toji fushiguro x reader #toji fushiguro x you #toji fushiguro imagine #toji fushiguro smut

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yerimbrit · 2 months

Text

lovergirl : m. danielle

synopsis: even after she left you, you still came crawling back.

# : pairing ! danielle marsh x gn!reader

# : tags ! angst with a happy?? ending, this is set in like 2026, i'm... sorry(?)

# : wordcount ! 3.6k

# : warnings ! none i think just swearing

do you know why you're at the airport?

you're 21. she's probably 21 around this time too, since her birthday was last month. you wonder where she is now, if she's doing well. but knowing her, she's probably thriving, unlike you, stuck behind deadlines and finals.

you see her everywhere. not just on billboards, advertisements, and songs, but also in the little things around your neighborhood. the small candy shop around the corner, where your parents took you and her when you behaved. the local family-owned diner, where you and her stopped by on the weekends. the playground that connected to the park in the heart of the city, where you and her played on the swings after curfew.

instead of elation that hit you when you saw these things, though, it was bittersweet nostalgia.

...she didn't even say bye before she left.

it's not like you could blame her, though. she knew that you would convince her to stay, to not leave you alone because she was your everything. that you would take her hands in yours and look at her like she puts the stars in the sky, whispering sweet nothings into her ears like the world was going to end after midnight.

she wasn't there for graduation. or at least, you didn't see her there—she was promoting her first comeback album, or so you've heard. you'd muted nearly everything that had to do with her. it was cruel, you know that, because she hasn't even done anything wrong. but it was for the sake of your heart. you never did get to confess to her properly.

sheltering your heart was the least you could do, in the process of recovering from your heartbreak. but if you knew if you saw her again, that shell would be broken instantly.

so no, you don't know why you're at the airport, on the way to seoul to go to some fansign that you heard about just two weeks ago.

the air of the crowded gate is suffocating, a reminder of how you felt whenever a video of her showed up on your for you page before you blocked the fan account and muted all the tags.

you breathe in, hearing a familiar-sounding laugh behind you, and you whip around only to see two random strangers talking to each other.

'not good,' you grit your teeth. if you saw her right now you would've broke down.

cacophonies of conversation between the crowd rang in your ears, and you groan, covering them. you couldn't wait to get on the plane so you could put on the noise-canceling headphones that you'd bought specifically for this 14 hour flight.

thankfully, your wishes were granted, and you were allowed entry onto the plane. it was a cheap economy seat—you were still a student, after all. your parents offered to pay when you told them you were going to korea, but by then you'd already bought the ticket.

two hours in and it hits you that you're an idiot. a big idiot. you know nothing about the group she's in. buying multiple albums to go to a fansign for a group known worldwide, without even knowing the names of the members?

you pull up their page on kprofiles and start reading, assimilating yourself with the world of... kpop. yeah. you've never bothered with kpop, even though she was an idol. it's not like you hated it, you just didn't bother getting into it. plenty of your friends were avid listeners, pouring details after details about their favorite groups to you, and that was fine. you didn't mind.

'kim minji,' you read to yourself. 22, the oldest... representative animal is a bear... yeah, you can see it. the next was hanni, the vietnamese-australian member of the group. two aussies? what a coincidence.

you read on, studying each member thoroughly before moving to the next. you make a note to watch videos on youtube about them when you get to the hotel. you read about haerin and hyein, the youngest members, then scroll back up to the member you skipped.

'danielle marsh.'

you knew what she looked like already because of how popular the group was, but…

'she still looks the same after all these years.'

the same smile, the same eyes. you wonder if anyone else has ever seen the way her eyes twinkle under the moonlight after dark.

'hobbies: drawing, listening to music, swimming... guess she's the same girl after all.'

your seatmate nudges your shoulder, and you almost jump. "hey, are you interested in newjeans?"

he looks at you excitedly. he seemed about the same age, maybe a bit younger than you. figured there'd be at least one of their fans here. why'd you have to get seated next to one of them?

"um," you hum, "something like that."

you don't bother to tell him about your past with one of the members, or the fact that you bought albums for a chance to see them without any knowledge of who they were, because it was none of his business. god knows what would happen if you told him the truth.

he starts blabbering about how he was a fan since debut, and you tune him out, closing your eyes and putting on your headphones. it's not like he noticed, anyway. maybe you can catch up on some sleep you missed while studying.

you dream of her during your impromptu nap, waking up with tears in your eyes. the guy next to you stopped talking too, fortunately. at that rate, you thought he would've continued after the flight.

you check the time on your phone. surprisingly, a few hours have passed, and the flight is almost over. you must've passed out completely once you shut your eyes. the flight attendant comes by to remind you to unplug your phone from the power outlet, and you patiently wait for your plane to land.

one look outside and you could see fluffy white clouds perfectly set in the air, like a painting or piece of art you could find on social media. you swear you see a rabbit shaped cloud. or maybe you've been staring too hard.

("look, y/n! doesn't that one look like a bunny?

"nah, it's definitely a cat. where are you getting bunny?"

"where are you getting cat? it's most definitely a bunny!"

"okay, okay, fine. you're right, it does look like a bunny, dani."

"see? told ya!")

'fuck,' you shake your head. you try to think about something else. the seat in front of you. the loud sound of the airplane taxiing on the runway. the aircraft marshaller directing said plane.

breathe in. one, two, three, four, five. breathe out. one, two, three, four, five.

you and your seatmate get up to exit the plane, and he flashes a polite smile at you. you offer a tight-lipped one back. the aisleway is cramped, as it always is when you fly economy, and you bump into some people. there's a gross spark of electricity every time you brush shoulders with someone, and you shiver, suddenly reminded of the need to shower when you check in to your room.

the first thing you notice when you step into the airport from the ramp is that there are many products with an idol's face plastered on the front. twice on a candy bag, bts on a bag of chips, le sserafim on a sports drink... the list goes on. it's like they worshipped these people.

...whatever makes them happy.

a crowd comes stampeding towards your direction, causing your survival instincts to kick in. you take refuge in a nearby gift shop to avoid them. the airport was already loud, but the noise increased once the crowd came bursting through.

"minji-ssi, look here!"

"hanni! i love you!"

"please do a heart pose with haerin, danielle!"

"hyein-ssi, over here please!"

your hand twitches. it's not like they were going to see you, but you inconspicuously make your swift escape anyway. there's a bittersweet twist in your stomach at the mention of her name.

instinctively, you whip your head around just in time to make eye contact with her. her mouth is agape and her eyes are widened, and she looks as if she were going to say something, but you turn back around and start power walking to the nearest exit.

does she still remember you? maybe she does, considering the expression she made when you two met eyes. and you can't help but to think, 'does she miss me?'

does she think of you the way you think about her, 24/7, 365 days a year? does she remember the memories you made together, all those years ago? and does she treat them like precious jewels in a well-kept box, or like a constant reminder of what could've been, like you do?

but you also can't help but to think about how beautiful she looked. she's matured, something that you could only sense outside of the pictures provided by the internet. and she holds herself in a poised manner with an air of elegance, but also with a sense of cheeriness and innocence well-placed.

it has been 6 years since you have seen danielle in person.

6 years since you have lost the light of your life.

and you would do anything to change that fact, but, alas, it would never come.

you think you've memorized all the members by now, binging videos of them for three days straight. of course, you went out and explored, since you were in a foreign country, but even when you were out you were still trying to learn everything you could about the group that she's in.

the night before the meeting, you don't sleep well. you wake up on your back, sweating, because you've just had a nightmare. a nightmare where you reunite with her, but she said that she never liked you, and walked away. with every step you took, the distance between you two only increased.

wiping your sweat, you take a few gulps of water from the bottle on the nightstand, taking deep breaths to try and calm your heart. it's around 7 am, looking at the digital clock on the table. the meeting starts at 12, and you have to get there by 11 before it gets too busy for you to even get in.

you walk over to the bathroom with a sense of dread, intending to take a refreshing shower to clear your head.

(it did not help. your mind remains clouded with thoughts of her. impending doom awaits you in four and a half hours.)

not knowing what else to do since you woke up too early, you get dressed and go for a walk. there's a nice, humble café two blocks down the street from your hotel, and you get a warm welcome when you walk through the doors of the establishment. the bells chime in a familiar tune, lifting your spirits ever so slightly.

of all the places you've been to since landing in korea, more than half of them have played at least one newjeans song as background music. and, lucky for you, this one is not. although it is a bit jarring to hear smooth jazz rather than the energetic voices of the girls you've been seeing everywhere.

the café is mostly quiet, aside from the clacking of the dishes and the soft chatter of the few customers also spending their morning here. you mark it as somewhere to visit again, if you ever come back to korea.

with every sip of coffee, there's an added chill to combat the blazing heat that the sun is emitting outside. the sun reminded you of her, who shines just like the sun that breathes us life. the moodmaker between the two of you, who cheered you on even on days where it felt hopeless.

but the iced beverage also filled you with energy, giving you confidence to make it through the big obstacle of the day. (and also the entire reason you even came all this way) you could face her. it's been 6 years. and, well, if it doesn't go well, then at least you'll have an excuse to never come back.

with newfound courage, you exit the café with long strides and return to your hotel room, preparing for the journey ahead. a charger, cash, and a water bottle are all secured in your small crossbody bag.

it's 10:15.

your uber comes in around 10 minutes, and you decide to wait outside in the front to save time.

the drive from the hotel to the venue is about 30 minutes. during that time, you listen to the playlist full of newjeans songs that you made on the day you landed, and take a brief power nap. 'hurt' is the last thing you hear before you drift off to sleep.

you don't feel like you belong here. there's dozens, maybe around a hundred fans talking amongst themselves. from your limited korean, you could tell they were talking about their excitement for the fansign that's about to start in 15 minutes. you really wish you could share the feeling, even though you tried to get into them for three days straight.

a fan approaches you, tapping your shoulder, and you jolt. what is with people and sneaking up on you?

"hey!" oh, they're speaking in english. that makes this easier for you.

"hey," you echo, waving to them. upon closer look, you could see that their tote bag is decked out in merch, from keychains to stickers and a... hanni photocard? you think it's hanni. it's hard to tell when they change their hair colors every comeback.

they notice you staring, and smile at you. then they reach into their bag and pull out a clear goodie-bag containing some stickers and a lomo card.

"would you like one? i ran out of the others, sadly, but i do have hanni and danielle," they say, pulling out another bag which you presume has the other member mentioned.

the iridescent glow of the transparent bag shimmers in your eyes, and you blink. "oh," you start, "i think i'll have hanni."

the goods are handed to you, and you exchange friendly goodbyes. you wistfully look at the card inside the bag, mixed feelings swirling in your gut. it's for the better.

you have a couple more interactions with other fans, some giving you freebies like the first one, and some enthusiastically chatting to you about the group. your initial feelings of discomfort, are, admittedly, still there, but there's an added layer of pleasantness on top now.

weaving through the crowd to get to your assigned seat, you clutch the strap of your new tote bag containing all the things fellow(?) fans have given you.

the tote was another one of the things given, and you think the design is pretty neat, with a nicely placed logo and slogan in a chic style. you might actually use it after today, too.

the announcer calls for the fansign to commence, and five girls file in from a side entrance, their managers and bodyguards following alongside. immediately, the venue erupts in cheers from the audience, shouting affectionate phrases to the members, similar to what happened at the airport.

influenced by the majority, you cheer as well, although it was cut short when you realized that internally you were so out of place.

the group begins with some simple conversation starters, such as 'how are you' and 'have you eaten?' with as much energy as when they came in. you don't exactly know what's happening, so you sit and wait patiently for the event to start. everything seems so daunting.

finally, after around 5 minutes of greetings, the actual signing is starting. you're seated in the middle, which works out in your favor; not one of the first ones to come up and have to face her, but also not one of the last ones and lose your courage. you watched the interactions, the delusion-inducing actions that each of the girls provided, and the poses that they did together. the people around you were either taking videos, pictures, or excitedly talking to their friends beside them.

as the amount of rows in front of you remaining to go up and talk to the girls dwindles down, your heart sped up, thudding against your chest. an even bigger sense of dread instills in you, legs unmoving when the row directly in front of you comes back to sit down. you get nudged by the person next to you to move, and you shakily bring yourself to apologize and get a move on.

what would her reaction be? would she be shocked? happy? maybe mad, because if she actually wanted for you to be involved in her life all this time she would've said goodbye to you, or kept in touch. maybe you should just leave. you got yourself in this whole predicament, anyway. no one even told you to do it.

your palms are sweaty as you make your way down the velvet stairs, and you wipe your hands on your pants in nervousness and fear. eventually, the line slows down once your row reaches the table that the girls are sitting at, and you take it as a chance to try to relax.

breathe in.

five things you can see. seats, the person in front of you, the ground you are standing on, the album that you're holding to get signed (in your extensive research, people usually brought theirs to be signed on), and the table that seems so close yet so far from you. okay.

breathe out.

four things you can touch. the album, your shirt and jacket, and the bracelet on your wrist.

in...

three things you can hear. the increasingly obnoxious whirring sound of the air conditioning, the buzz of the audience, and...

fuck.

"hey, how are you?" a somewhat familiar voice asks. you say somewhat because you've only heard her voice in videos. you find yourself now kneeling in front of minji, the oldest member of the group. she's a lot prettier up close, all of them are, but it's a bit jarring to suddenly see her with your own eyes.

you clear your throat, blinking rapidly to try to focus yourself on the girl. "i'm, i'm gooth-"

...you bit your tongue. you try to laugh it off, awkward giggles slipping from your lips, and thankfully she joins you in laughing.

"that's good," she smiles, and it puts you at ease. no wonder people idolize these girls. she signs the front of the album, asks about your life, and you tell her about your school and how you're a newer fan. she waves at you with another gummy smile once your two minutes are up.

the next is haerin, who is the more reserved and quiet member of the group. there's a pair of cat ears sitting on her head, probably a gift from one of the previous fans, and she blinks at you owlishly, almost like she knew you, before a small smile settles on her face.

it is slightly unsettling, but the more you converse with her the more that feeling dissolves. she really is reserved, and the two of you exchange witty remarks with knowing grins. she signs your album just before the two minute mark.

hyein is super friendly, very high energy. you feel like she'd be a great person to be around on any given day. your conversation with her is mostly centered around food, and how she wants to visit australia again once you mentioned where you're from. she signs the album in the middle of your discussion about the best korean foods to try during your stay.

your time with hyein ends with a staring contest. (she won) and you give her a handshake after, joking about how you would win the next time. you think the sparkles in her eyes are very endearing.

hanni signs your album as soon as you set it down on the table. she's a very likable person in general; you think you could've been friends with her if she went to the same school as you. you also share the same music taste, spending your time together talking about the latest sza album and comparing hand sizes (yours were bigger, unsurprisingly)

but nothing could prepare you for the girl at the end of the table. her laugh rings in your ear from diagonally across from you, and you get a splitting headache. you mask it well enough for hanni not to notice, though, and you're able to finish the interaction smoothly.

how could anyone ever hate danielle? definitely not you. as much as you had reasons to hate her, you just couldn't bring yourself to do so much as dislike or be angry towards her. instead, you just drowned yourself in your sorrow and confusion.

she's perfect. the exact opposite of you, and yet she stayed with you until she didn't. those memories that you have together, they're so engraved in your mind, and you don't even know if she feels the same.

you slide over to the next slot, keeping your head down as you placed your album back onto the table.

heartbeat thudding in your chest. cold sweat running down your cheek. teeth biting your lip. is this the end for you? because it sure does feel like it.

when you finally do look up, and make eye contact with danielle, it feels like time has slowed even though it's really only been five seconds. her expression is mirroring yours: widened eyes, lips slightly parted. you gulp.

tears well in the corner of her eyes, and fuck everything, because you made her cry.

she blinks them away, and clears her throat, taking a second to regain her composure, and timidly calls out to you.

"y/n?"

a/n : 🤗 not the best at writing angst i hope this is ok !

#newjeans x reader #newjeans #danielle marsh x reader #danielle x reader #mo jihye x reader #danielle newjeans #danielle marsh newjeans #gxg #girl group imagines #girl group x reader #newjeans imagines

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moremaybank · 8 months

Note

jj x john b’s little sister will always have a special place in my heart. Especially when she’s been pining over him since they were kids, the built up tension, the way they act like a couple but they’re not, ugh!

no bc this is my favourite trope with jj 😭 it's just so fitting and honestly nothing hits like a good brother's best friend trope (at least for me)

You were lying in bed, mindlessly scrolling through your phone when you hear your front door open, followed by the clunking of heavy shoes against the hardwood floors as they walked their way through your home.

At first, you panicked. Was this it? Were you about to get murdered in the comfort of your own home, warm and cozy in your bed? But then it clicked. There was only one person you knew who had loud footsteps like that. He had messy blonde hair, sparkling blue eyes, a cheeky grin. He was most likely wearing one of his worn out cut-offs, and black timberland boots.

Those staple shoes of his were definitely the culprit.

Your doorknob twisted open slowly, and there JJ was. Stumbling into your room with a hazy smile on his face. He tripped over his foot upon entry, leading him to kick his boots off clumsily.

"J, what the hell are you doing? I thought you were Freddy Krueger or something, jeez."

He plopped onto your bed, using one hand to pluck your phone from your hand and toss it to the other side of your bed. He laid between your legs, resting his head against your stomach and wrapping his arms around your waist.

Butterflies erupted in your stomach instantly. Being this close and cozy wasn't new for the two of you; you'd been touchy since you were kids. Endless piggyback rides, cuddling sessions during movie nights, playing with each other's hair, that was just the two of you in your normal state. That's what happens when you've known someone since you were in elementary school.

"Hi," he murmured, nuzzling into you as he got comfy. "You smell good."

Your brows furrowed as you held back a laugh. "Are you drunk?"

"No." A moment of silence passed, and then he spoke up again. "Maybe."

"Okay, and where's my brother?"

"Ditched me for his kook girlfriend."

You hummed in response, starting to weave your fingers through his sun-kissed locks. You heard him sigh in content, and he hooked his legs over one of yours.

"D'you wanna get high?" JJ asked, breaking the silence.

Your hand crept down to his cheek, stroking it with your thumb gently. "I think you're intoxicated enough, Maybank."

He picked his head up, his chin now resting where the left side of his face was previously smushed against. He smiled, his eyelids half closed. "You're always takin' care o'me. So sweet, like candy."

"You always need to be taken care of," you joked in response. The small huff of laughter he let out was like music to your ears. You could listen to it on repeat for the rest of your days, and it'd always be your favourite soundtrack.

His eyes seemed to glimmer as he zoned in on yours again. He released a sigh, before reaching up and cupping your cheek. "You're so beautiful."

Your heart fluttered. You were used to JJ's unrelenting flirtations, but he'd never said anything like that to you. It'd always been lookin' good, mini routledge, or we should makeout. y'know, for science.

"Don't. You're only saying that 'cause you're drunk. It's mean."

His brow arched. "Me thinking you're beautiful is mean? I don't get it."

"It's mean because it's just the alcohol talking," you explained. "You don't really mean it, J."

"I do mean it. Why do you think I'm starin' at you all the time? I have to force myself to keep my eyes off you."

He was pulling at your heartstrings, saying all the things you'd been longing to hear from his mouth for as long as you could remember. It almost felt cruel; the fact that he could say these things so casually as if the memory wouldn't be burned into your brain until the end of time.

"Go to sleep, JJ. We'll talk in the morning," you spoke, eyes darting away from his as you changed the topic.

JJ removed himself from your hold, scooting up next to you and using his index finger and thumb to guide your gaze onto him. His eyes were softened, so vulnerable as they looked at you. He wore a small pout, too, only making you want to plant a kiss on it and wash it away.

"I know 'm an idiot. But one of these days, I'm gonna get my head outta my ass and tell you that I got a major thing for you," he said. "You're gonna be my girl, princess. I'm not sure of much, but I am sure of that."

And with that, he laid his head down on the pillow next to yours, slinging an arm over your waist and cuddling into your side.

"Good night, beautiful."

concepts

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babypinkhearts · 4 months

Text

tell me, if you’re ever ready - f. megumi

pairing: fushiguro megumi + fem!reader

summary: how many more times is megumi able to nurture you back to health until he’s reached his limit?

warnings: angst (i’m sorry, but it’s not super duper bad i don’t think !!), mentions of mental health struggle, megumi is so sweet it hurts me, fluff!!!

a/n: okay. hi it’s been a while!! this is my first jjk fic :) i’ve been in a writer’s block for a LONG time, but i read a megumi fic from @neiptune that absolutely ripped my heart open (please go read her work, it is incredible!!!), and i have not stopped thinking about it since (it fucked me up so bad). if you’re reading this - oh my gosh i will never be the same. and i love your work!!! this is how i cope. this is HEAVILY inspired by your fic “if clarity’s in death then why won’t this die?” okay okay !!! thank you so much for reading :)

you’re not really sure as to why you couldn’t just let yourself relax for a second. megumi was right next to you; your skin was touching his. however, that was probably the reason why your mind was so restless.

you could never seem to enjoy his company - not because you were revolted by it (not for an infinity), but because you were never sure if it would be your last time getting to see him like this. bodies intertwined so perfectly it would seem as though this was the only way you were ever meant to exist.

and megumi was anything but unperceptive. he learned you quietly. his observant eyes picked up every little thing.

he could tell if your mind was being cruel to you. maybe others couldn’t - well, he knew they couldn’t. megumi knew it wasn’t your favorite skill of his.

he was blunt when confronting you, every time without fail. not in a way that could be taken in offense (he could never do that to you), but in a question of genuine concern.

there had been times where you had truly believed you had made it past him - that your mediocre acting skills had possibly improved since the last time.

you had quickly learned that doubting megumi was futile.

everything about you is engraved in his mind. it’s purposeful.

of course he could read through you.

yuuji and nobara couldn’t. if it were a competition, they would lose before it could start. megumi would be crossing the finish line a year before the starting pistol could go off.

he knew you were awake. you had been for a while. these nights had been occurring more frequently. you would kiss his lips softly, say goodnight, then wait for his breathing to slow, convinced it meant he had finally fallen asleep. megumi faked it every time.

he had yet to ask you about it. he was waiting - silently pleading - for you to come to him. this occasion was different. he didn’t want to pry, but if this had been keeping you up for nights, it wasn’t a thought that could so easily be forgotten.

what were you so fearful of?

steadily, he reached a hand out, cupping your face. he had been laying beside you, though you were turned away.

he’s alarmed when he finds your cheek wet.

quickly sitting up, megumi felt his heart cave into his chest as he took in the sight of your silent tears.

“hey, hey.” he whispered, so softly. he tried to ease the tone of his voice, not letting his anxious concern show much. you let him turn you around, and don’t protest as he cages his arms around you. “what’s wrong? i’m right here.”

and you closed your eyes tightly, letting out a shaky chuckle.

of course he was awake.

“nothing.” you mumbled, smiling small, hoping that you truly did look better than you felt. you loved megumi. he wasn’t deserving of this.

you were at a constant war with yourself. you lost more than you won, the casualties being in the forms of your deteriorating health. but he was there - your card of immunity. he restores you. no matter how much your mind builds a fortress to keep him out. there was no point in denying him entry. he would find himself inside your thoughts no matter how hard you tried to keep him out.

“i’m here forever. tell me if you’re ever ready.”

that only made more tears form.

sentences that are so saccharine, so sentimental. megumi would never lie to you.

and yet, the first words that come out of your mouth in response feel like instinct.

“are you?”

is he here forever? he’s been here for a while. no one knows exactly when “forever” is. megumi doesn’t know. you know less.

and will he ever be ready? will you ever be ready?

you love that about megumi.

if.

you don’t have to tell him anything. if you’re ever ready, you can.

you can choose to never be ready, and he would be okay with that. after all - he claims to be here forever. that’s a lifetime, or more. while it isn’t a promise, it’s a declaration. megumi always chooses his words thoughtfully. he’s poetic at times, though you refuse to let that belief be known to him.

you’re afraid to love him. are you deserving of him? you can’t imagine a life without him. how selfish does that make you?

the principal cause of your worries is how long you have until you ruin something so wonderful.

megumi is strong, but he isn’t invincible. surely, he has a limit. there are only so many times he can possibly stand having to nurture you back to health. how many times has he held you - his arms unrelenting as he waits for you to say you feel better? you feel like you’re tying him down constantly. and yet, he treats you the same, no matter if it’s the hundredth time he’s seen you like this.

it makes you feel so incredibly guilty.

“yes. to both, if that’s what you’re asking.”

the slight hint of playfulness in his tone makes you genuinely smile a little. you truly believed him, and that is what made your heart ache so much. you wished you could be better for him. that it wasn’t currently the early hours of the morning and he’s having to console you. but he’s your immunity, after all. he’s once again restoring you.

“you can’t get rid of me.” he continues, and you feel his fingers tracing your back gently. it’s soothing, and you imagine he’s realized what you meant. “i will never get tired of you. i’m here for as long as you’re willing to have me. and if it were up to me-“

he makes it a point to look at you now. his gaze is almost intimidating.

megumi tends to avoid eye contact. you know he hates it. it’s cute, you’ve always thought. whenever you give him a compliment, his head seems to turn the complete opposite direction, probably hiding his pink-tinted cheeks. but, despite his reactions, he has never complained about your words. it makes you smile, knowing that you can get him flustered so easily.

it’s different when he does it to you, though. he’s not confrontational with words like how you sometimes are, but he’ll do unexpected things when it’s just you two. like eye contact. his gaze that’s only ever reserved for you.

that same gaze that will watch you with pure adoration. megumi, who will wipe your tears, no matter how bad it gets. who knows he will never willingly leave you. and he’ll gladly love you for as long as you let him.

everything about you is worth it to him.

“it would be, like i said, forever.”

#megumi fushiguro #fushiguro megumi #megumi x reader #jujutsu megumi #jjk megumi #jujutsu kaisen megumi #megumi x you #megumi fluff #megumi imagine #megumi fanfic #jjk #jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #anime x reader #anime #jjk gojo #jjk season 2 #jjk x you

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vibingandsimping · 8 months

Note

Okay. First of all, you made me feel things for Haarlep with him wishing for more. I was wondering if you’d be willing to do a small one shot or headcanon about Raphael finding out about tav and Haarlep having secret feelings even though tav is supposed to be Raphael’s or something. I never knew I needed more of this till now thank you

Haarlep deserves more attention. I find their character so interesting.

You were in sorts with Raphael. You don’t know if this was cruel- but did you really care? The devil claimed you as his after pining since he met you in the Underdark. His diaries full of entries of you. All the things he wished to do to you and with you. The first time you visited the House of Hope was partially out of curiosity. A devil’s house must have some secrets, yes? It ended up with you tied closer to the devil. His little mouse, as he liked to say, all for him. Little did he know it was only because of the first night you spent with Haarlep. The way their lips explored your skin was so passionate. Unlike anything you’d ever felt before. In truth you didn’t wish to leave it. After the sex you two laid in bed and chatted for awhile. Haarlep, despite being an incubus, had a depth to them.

That’s why you let Raphael have his way with you. It gave you free access to his realm. You grew used to the chaos of the halls as you snuck to Haarlep while Raphael was away. You’d spend nights of passion and then talk tenderly til Raphael arrived. When his presence was announced, you’d switch and tend to his needs. Anything to keep him strung along and this little affair going. Since Haarlep belonged to Raphael they could never leave unless Raphael relinquished him or died. Each night of hiding became a heavier burden on your heart. Each kiss deeper and longing for a life without ties. This went on for months until you two grew sloppy. Comfortable in your routine of visits while he was away. When Raphael caught you laying in bed nude and smelling of sex. You thought it was over. Surely he’d chain you up or take Haarlep’s head for tainting his favorite mouse.

What you didn’t expect was his expression to be smug rather than shocked or wrathful. His gaze was predatory and gave you chills. “I am not a fool, my pets.” He began with a stride towards you two. “I pieced it together. Did you have fun, my mouse?” He closed the distance between you and grabbed your jaw. It wasn’t forceful but directed you to look at him. Only if you attempted peeling yourself away did his grip become brutal. Your lips parted as you uttered meek confirmation. The devil’s eyes landed on Haarlep who watched in waiting anticipation. He tutted at the incubus. “I’m not pleased with you playing with what’s mine, Haarlep. You’ve forgotten your place. Though, perhaps there’s something in this for me.” He let your jaw go with a wolfish grin. He thought this over if he knew from the start. He waited til the perfect moment to strike like the damn viper he was.

“You’ll get the Crown of Karsus for me, mouse. Like we agreed on. When you’re gone, Haarlep can please me with your body… and while i’m gone on business my pets can play with eachother. As long as you both remember you belong to me. I’ll let you keep this… what do you want to call it? Romance? Affair? Whatever, it matters not.” You weren’t sure to be pissed he was exploiting you two or thankful you were still alive and had permission to continue. He was right though. It mattered not, as long as you could keep Haarlep by your side.

You’d be his toy.

#my asks #my writing #anon ask #baldurs gate 3 #bg3 #baldurs gate iii #baldurs gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 x reader #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 x reader #haarlep #haarlep bg3 #haarlep x reader #haarlep x tav #raphael #raphael bg3 #raphael x reader #raphael x tav #totally normal

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proxima-writes · 1 year

Text

Title: cruel summer | chapter 2

Pairing: Joel Miller/Female Reader

Rating: Explicit (18+ MDNI)

Chapters: 6/6

Read on AO3 | Join the tag list

Summary:

Joel takes a contracting job renovating a master bedroom and bathroom while the homeowners are away for the summer on a cruise.

He wasn’t expecting their twenty-three year old daughter and the thoughts he’d have about her.

Content warnings: age difference (15 years), explicit sexual content

Additional tags: oral sex (m receiving), masturbation, dirty talk, pet names, angst, internalized guilt, Joel Miller is emotionally constipated but Trying His Best. Let me know if I’ve missed anything!

Joel stops eating lunch with you after that day in the kitchen. You try not to let it affect you, but you miss him. You miss the easy conversation and the way he makes you laugh without even trying. It’s hard to focus on studying with him constantly on your mind, especially when he’s so close but just out of reach.

A few days pass without any interaction with him at all. He comes inside and immediately heads upstairs and the only reason you even know he’s there is the heavy footsteps above your head.

So you’re surprised when one day he comes downstairs and heads straight towards you, stopping a respectable distance away. He clears his throat and runs a hand nervously through his hair.

“Sarah’s daycare just called. I forgot it was a half day for them, I gotta go pick her up,” he says. “I’ve got grout mixed upstairs. I’ll come back as soon as I can, but I’ll have to see if Tommy can come watch her.”

“Oh. Why don’t…you can just…bring her here? I can watch her, if you need,” you reply. He stops his nervous fidgeting, hands dropping to his side.

“Really?” He asks. “You don’t have to do that, I don’t want to interrupt your studyin’.”

“Not getting much done today, anyways,” you say pointedly. He presses his lips together.

“Right. Well, uh, if you’re sure. I’ll go get her now.”

“Why don’t you give me your cell number. You can call me if you change your mind and are going to take longer getting back here,” you suggest.

He nods, digging his phone from his pocket and handing it to you. You pass him yours from the table. After entering your number, you exchange devices again. You check your contacts, biting back a smile seeing the entry titled “Joel (contractor)”.

As if you wouldn’t know who he was.

“Okay, well. I’ll be back,” he says, heading out the door with a lingering look.

————

Sarah is sitting in her car seat, asking Joel a thousand questions about where they’re going.

“Daddy’s gotta work, sweetheart. But I’ve got a very nice friend who’s goin’ to watch you while he’s busy,” he explains. “We’re going to her house.”

“Oh. Does she have toys?” She asks.

“I’m not sure. She might.”

“I hope so. Does she have snacks?”

“Probably.”

Her questions continue in the same manner until he pulls into your driveway. She frees herself from her car seat and hops from the truck, running to the front door faster than Joel can catch up. She’s bouncing excitedly on the balls of her feet as he pushes the door open, but she clings to his arm as he enters the hallway.

Joel checks the kitchen but finds it empty. He calls out your name.

“In the living room!” You shout back.

He’s surprised to find you surrounded by a couple large storage totes, digging through one and pulling out another box stuffed with what looks like fabric. You look up when they enter and smile brightly.

“Hi! You must be Sarah,” you say to his little girl, giving her your name as well. “Do you like Barbie dolls?”

Sarah nods, her grip loosening from her dad’s arm as you start to pull some Barbie dolls from one bin. Joel watches you tell his daughter about how they’d been yours when you were her age, and that they’re very excited to have someone play with them again. You open the box of clothes and accessories, Sarah’s face lighting up at all the options.

Watching you with his daughter feels like a fist to the gut. You’re so attentive and kind, patiently explaining the different dolls to her and their backstories that he just can’t look away.

It’s not until you look up at him and your smile falters the slightest bit that he clears his throat and says, “Alright, sweetie, you all good here?”

“Yes, daddy,” she says dutifully, focused on changing the outfit on one of the dolls you’d given her.

“I’ll be upstairs if you need anything,” he says, more to you than to Sarah. You only nod in response.

He trudges up the stairs with a lump in his throat and a vise grip around his heart.

_______

Sarah might just be the best kid you’ve ever met. She’s smart and funny, making up the silliest stories for the Barbie’s to act out. You can see why Joel is such a softie for her.

“Do you have anything else we can play with?” She asks after about an hour of playing with the dolls.

“Why don’t we head outside?” You ask, picking the toys up off the floor.

“Okay! Can I show you my cartwheel?” She asks, jumping up from the floor and trailing after you towards the back door.

“Uh, absolutely!”

She runs full speed out the sliding glass door, bypassing the pool and heading straight for the grassy yard beyond. “Watch! Watch!” She calls out to you as she plants her hands to the ground and shows off her cartwheel.

“Wow, that’s awesome, Sarah!” You call out. You dig in the pool storage and pull out a forgotten soccer ball that you’re pretty sure has been in there since high school. It’s a little flat, but it’ll do.

Sarah continues to do cartwheels through the yard while you kick the ball around. She catches sight of what you’re doing and runs over to join, watching as you demonstrate some of the footwork from high school sitting in the recesses of your mind.

Sarah eventually starts to complain about being hungry, so you head back inside to set up a snack for her. “Give me one second, sweetie, I’ll be right back.”

You jog up the stairs and head to your parent’s room. Joel’s wiping the excess grout from the shower tile he’s just laid when you tap on the doorframe to get his attention. He looks up at you in surprise, dropping the wet sponge in the bucket and standing.

“Hey. I was just about to make a snack for Sarah and I wanted to make sure she doesn’t have any allergies or anything?” You ask. He stares at you for a moment before taking a step closer, hand wrapping around the back of your neck and tugging your lips to his.

You’re surprised but your traitorous body responds before your brain can, your lips moving hungrily against his as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He presses you back against the door frame, his calloused and slightly damp hands coming up to grip your face and angling it to his liking. His tongue slips past your lips and tangles with yours, making you whimper.

He pulls away all too soon, smoothing a hand against your hair as he stares into your eyes, his breathing quick and labored.

“No…no allergies,” he finally says. You huff out a laugh.

“Right…you could have just said that,” you joke. He cracks a smile.

“Get back downstairs. I’ll be done soon.”

________

Joel tried to do the respectable thing. He really did. He was going to let that one slip up be left in the past, move on with a perfectly normal working relationship. No more lunches, no more lingering in the doorway to talk to you when he comes in the morning and you’re still sleepy, sipping your coffee that’s more sugar than anything. No more after dark thoughts of you as he lays in bed palming his cock. Just him and the bathroom remodel.

But then you’d offered to look after Sarah, and you could have easily stuck her in front of the TV while you went about your day, but you gave her your undivided attention. He’d watched from the window as you showed her some fancy soccer footwork that he didn’t even know you knew how to do. You cheered for her when she landed six cartwheels in a row and then laughed when she crashed to the ground, dizzy and giggling. He’d watched you run around the yard with her on your back, a pool noodle held in her hand as she commanded you to charge forward.

And just like it always does when it comes to you, the weak walls of his resolve crumble around him.

To top it all off, you came upstairs to ask him the most innocent but thoughtful question and goddamnit, he can’t do this. He had to kiss you.

Now that you’re no longer standing in front of him, the logical part of his brain kicks back on and the guilt returns. What the hell is expecting out of this? He’s here temporarily, for a job, and so are you. You’ll return to school at the end of the summer and he’ll be here…what? Pining after a girl fifteen years his junior who could have any number of men her age falling at her feet?

Joel scrubs a hand over his face. Much as he hates to admit it, he’s going to have to man up and have a real conversation about all this. He pulls his phone from his pocket and shoots a text to Tommy to see if he can come over and keep an eye on Sarah tonight after she goes to bed.

________

Joel comes down about thirty minutes later and Sarah runs towards him, throwing her arms around his legs and hugging me tightly.

“We had so much fun, daddy! She watched me do all my cartwheels and we played calgary!”

You snort. “Cavalry, sweetie,” you correct.

“That!” She exclaims. Her head tilts back to look up at her dad with big brown eyes so full of love it makes your stomach flip.

“It sounds like you had a great day, baby,” Joel says, running a hand over her curly brown hair. “It’s time we head out.”

She pouts and Joel hits her with a look that’s so quintessentially dad that you have to bite back a laugh. The young girl sighs dramatically before stomping out of the room towards the front door.

Joel reaches a hand out towards you and you step forward, slipping your hand into his. “Can I come over later? To talk?” He asks quietly, fingers tangling with yours.

“S-sure,” you reply. He gives you one last nod before he lets go of your hand, heading out the door after Sarah.

_______

Tommy comes over around 8:00 that evening, after Sarah’s in bed following another chapter of James and the Giant Peach. He lets himself in, joining Joel in the kitchen where he’s cleaning up after dinner.

“Where ya off to this late, old man?” Tommy asks, opening the freezer and peering inside. “No ice cream?”

“Get outta my fridge,” Joel snaps, whacking him with the dish towel in his hands. “And none of your business, nosy lil shit.”

Tommy holds his hands up in surrender. “Geez, touchy.”

“I’ll be back in a few hours. Don’t go riflin’ through the pantry, either, I already hid the cookies.”

Tommy’s annoyed groan follows him out the door. In the truck, he finds your name in his contacts and opens a new text thread.

On my way.

_______

Your phone chimes on the coffee table, screen lighting with a message notification from Joel letting you know he’s on his way. It’s the first time he’s ever contacted you by phone, and you smile down at the brand new text thread despite the dry, no nonsense message.

You fight the urge to reply, fidgeting in your seat with nerves. You have nothing else to focus your attention on as you wait for Joel to show up. You’ve already cleaned up after dinner and your second glass of wine sits on the coffee table. You’ve changed into your pajamas, a pair of sleep shorts and an oversized UT t-shirt you’d stolen from an ex-boyfriend.

The man himself puts you out of your misery with a soft knock at your front door. You open it to find Joel standing there in another pair of jeans, dark wash instead of the light wash work pair he usually wears, and a soft looking flannel, his hands stuffed into the pockets of his jeans.

“Hey,” he says, shifting his weight from foot to foot. His eyes roam your body, every place they linger tingling under his gaze. “Can I come in?”

“Oh, yeah, of course. I’m surprised you didn’t just use the key.”

“Key is for the job. This ain’t part of the job.”

“Right,” you mumble, trailing behind him as he heads for the kitchen. “You want anything to drink? I’ve got beer.”

“Sure.”

You grab a can from the fridge and carry it with you to the living room, setting it beside your glass of wine on the coffee table. You take a seat, folding your legs under you. Joel stands near the doorway, like he’s not sure whether to sit or make an escape.

Finally, he joins you on the couch, a healthy cushion length of distance between your bodies. He smooths his palms over his thighs before grabbing the can of beer and popping the top.

“So…you want to talk?” You ask, breaking the tense silence. He sighs.

“I wanted to apologize. For what happened the other day,” he says, staring at the can of beer like it’ll say the words for him. “I shouldn’t have left you like that. After.”

You remain quiet. It had been shitty, getting left behind, all the adrenaline leaving your body and making you feel untethered. You’d cleaned yourself up and hidden in your room the rest of the afternoon, curled up in your bed.

“I don’t know what I’m doin’ here,” he confesses.

“Sure felt like you knew what you were doing,” you comment. Your smile is smug as you watch his cheeks heat.

“What I mean is,” he continues, throwing you a sharp look that reminds you of the one he’d used on Sarah that afternoon, “I don’t know what you’d want with a guy like me, baby. You’re goin’ back to school in a month, you’ve got dreams and goals I couldn’t touch with a ten foot pole, and you’re just a kid—“

“Don’t call me kid, Joel. I’m a grown fuckin’ woman, and I don’t need you making choices for me out of your own guilt.”

Joel clenches his jaw, his grip on the can of beer going tight enough to dent the aluminum.

“I don’t feel guilty about wanting you, Joel. I don’t know why you’re making such a big deal about it. We don’t have to define anything, we just…go at this with no rules. See what happens.” You shuffle closer to him, walking across the cushions on your knees until you’re kneeling beside him.

“No rules?” He asks. You can practically taste your victory.

You lean closer, bringing your palm up to turn his face towards you, his lips parting slightly as his eyes search yours.

“No rules,” you whisper.

________

This didn’t go at all as Joel had planned. He’d been intent on coming over here, apologizing for his behavior, and explaining that he wouldn’t be sending you any further mixed signals. That all of this had to stop.

But instead, he’s wrapping an arm around your waist and hauling you into his lap, his lips pressed to yours to swallow your gasp. His hands shift the long hem of your shirt out of his way so that he can grip your ass and drag you closer.

Your fingers find the buttons of his shirt, fumbling to get them undone. Your mouth leaves his to plant kisses to his jaw and down his neck, your teeth nipping as you go. Joel groans your name, his hips flexing as you push apart his shirt to expose his chest to your greedy hands.

Your nails scrape down his pecs, catching on his nipples and making him hiss, his head dropping back against the back of the couch.

Your weight leaves his lap and he looks up, ready to complain and haul your ass back where it belongs. But you’re dropping to your knees between his spread legs and looking up at him through your lashes as your hands smooth up his thighs.

“I want you in my mouth, Joel,” you tell him, voice pitched low. “I think about it a lot. What it would be like to suck your cock.”

“God, baby, I think about it, too,” Joel confesses, hips thrusting as you undo his belt and fly. He helps you shove his pants down far enough that his cock springs free, slapping lewdly against his stomach. “Put your mouth on me, sweetheart.”

Joel should have known you wouldn’t make this easy. You don’t listen to his plea. Instead, you wrap your delicate little hand around his throbbing length and give it a few leisurely pumps that have him gritting his teeth.

Then, holding his dick steady, you lean forward to grace him with just one little kitten lick to his head, tongue swiping through the bead of precum that’s already pooled at the slit. Your eyelids flutter and you hum appreciatively and Joel has to fucking will himself not to come all over your pretty face.

“You’re such a lil fuckin’ tease, aren’t ya,” he bites out. You give him your most saccharine smile, the mischievous glint in your eye unmistakable.

He places a hand on your head, fingers flexing against your scalp but not pressing or directing. No, this is your show and he knows that.

You lick up the underside of his cock before finally, finally taking him into your mouth. He groans at the sensation, the tight wet heat the best thing he’s ever felt.

At least for now.

You show him no mercy, taking him as far back into your throat as you can before coming up for air and circling the head with your tongue before diving back down. You gag a couple times, each time making your throat tighten around the head of his cock and making him moan out your name.

Joel catches movement below and lifts his head further to see your hand wiggle its way into those little sleep shorts you’re wearing. “Are you wet, baby? Did you soak yourself just sucking my cock?”

You nod, mouth too full to respond with words. You look so goddamn pretty with your mouth stretched around his thick length, your lashes wet with tears.

“You wanna come with me, sweet girl?” You nod. “Listen to me, then. Slide just one finger into that pretty cunt for me, okay?”

You nod again, doing as you’re told. He can’t see anything past this giant t-shirt you’re wearing and he growls in frustration.

“Bet that feels good, huh, darlin’? Ridin’ your fingers with my cock stuffed down your throat. Add another finger for me, that’s it.” You moan around his length, the vibrations nearly sending him over the edge.

“Can you take a third finger for me? We gotta get you nice and stretched if you’re gonna take my cock someday soon.” You give a little whimper as your motions pause while you work a third finger into your pussy. “That’s it, Christ, you look like fuckin’ sin, sweetheart.”

Eyes shut, you work your hand in the same rhythm as your mouth. When you start to get sloppy, Joel begins to thrust into your mouth.

“Focus on yourself, that’s it. You just worry about makin’ yourself come all over your fingers and I’ll worry about fillin’ this gorgeous fuckin’ mouth.”

With your other hand free, you use it to rub fast circles on your clit. It only takes Joel a few shallow thrusts before he’s spilling down your throat and you’re swallowing around him as you reach your own peak and crash through the ecstasy.

Joel waits until your limbs start to go limp before hauling you back into his lap, wrapping his arms around you in a tight hug.

“Wow,” you mumble against his shoulder, making him grin. You pull back to look at him and Joel hates the bit of fear hiding in the back of your gaze. “You don’t…have to leave right now, right?”

“No, baby, I can stay with you a bit longer.”

Joel’s fingers scratch lightly down your back, making you wiggle appreciatively. He fiddles with the hem of your shirt.

“Where’s this shirt from?” He asks innocently.

“Oh, it’s an ex’s shirt,” you murmur sleepily. Joel hums.

“Maybe I have one rule,” Joel says just as you’re nodding off.

“Hmm?”

“We’re getting rid of this fuckin’ shirt.”

#joel miller x female reader #joel miller smut #joel x reader #joel miller fic #joel miller x reader #joel miller x you #no use of y/n #joel miller #joel tlou #tlou fic #tlou fanfiction

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endless-ineffabilities · 2 years

Text

the flames that divide

Aemond Targaryen x f!Reader (nsfw / 18+)

part three of the prūmia va perzys (heart on fire) series

part one: don't you love me? - part two: and what of your love? - part four: the aftermath

themes: angst, smut, mention of violence, language, dragonrider!reader (her house is not stated)

word count: 3.6k ▪︎ masterlist

Aemond makes a decision about his impending marriage to Alys Rivers, and it's not without its consequences.

You wake slowly, drifting peacefully into consciousness, the haze of dawn pouring into the room, your lover still asleep beside you.

Aemond. He is on his side, one arm slung over you, keeping you close. His face gently rests on your shoulder, and his lips are parted in slumber.

Those perfect lips that traced every contour of your body last night.

Seven hells, I love you.

Careful not to wake him, you let your fingers drift on the side of his face, lightly touching in reverence. His sapphire eye gleams up at you, more beautiful than any of the stars in the heavens.

You can't recall for certain what your favourite color was before seeing it, but now and always, it will remain the same deep, endless blue.

Then, he smirks.

The bastard is awake. "Why have you stopped, my love? Don't mind me, just keep on."

He brings his hand to yours, the one resting on his face, and nudges it to continue its movement.

You smile, "Good morning, you menace."

"I love you too." He whispers, leaning on his arm and hovering over you, “I’ve decided that we could just stay here for the rest of our days. Easily sustain ourselves by putting our field to good use, and we'll go riding on dragonback together, seeing the world, even beyond the Seven Kingdoms."

The image he conjured up was beautiful, but it also elicited a deep kind of pain unlike anything you've ever felt. He was describing a dream. And, reality is often not conducive to dreams.

"Hmm," your voice comes out weak, "that sounds like a good idea, Aemond."

He immediately knows exactly how you're feeling, and how much torment the idea brings. All at once, he feels hate. For everyone. For himself. For his family, the Greens, the Blacks. Why did everything have to be so fucked? Why does he have to be the way that he is? Why can't the two of you just be happy?

It feels like a ceaseless cruel joke that he's been dealt with. He wants to give you everything, but by simply being who he is, he can't.

"We can venture out into the Free Cities this instant." He positions himself above you, forearms framing your face.

"When do we leave?" You whisper in return.

"Hmm," he kisses you, and you think of how there's no better way to wake up than this, "shortly after."

"After, my love?" You ask, but you can already feel him, pressed against your stomach, preparing to anchor himself into your flesh.

"Mhmm," he begins peppering your body with kisses, from your neck to the flesh between your thighs, hands eagerly exploring where they please. His fingers travel downward, and start to glide against your folds. Smooth circular movements that ignite the fire. He lifts himself and kneads his cock with the wetness of your core, priming you for entry.

His hands finds yours, steady on either side of your head.

"Look at me." He commands.

So you do. And, slowly, then all at once, he enters you.

You moan in unison, grinding against each other. And the entire time, he holds your gaze. The way your name keeps spilling from lips - like in prayer, like a spell being cast - sounds nothing short of maddening.

Aemond fucks you desperately, making a wild mess out of you. Hoping that perhaps, if he does it hard enough, then maybe the both of you can forget about everything. And moments later, as he drives you to see stars, you think of how it all feels like a dream.

You realize that dreams are real. They're the way his skin feels against yours, how the words 'I love you' sound from his lips, the tranquility that simply being with him allows.

If being with Aemond was your reality, then reality just might be a dream, after all.

But then again, dreams are typically shattered upon waking.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Putting on your black riding boots, the last piece of clothing still left on the floor, you start to feel a sense of dread. Aemond has dressed prior and is leaning casually by the wall, watching you with his signature smirk. Just a minute ago, he had quipped about being disappointed that you were getting dressed, your "goddess-like" body being shielded from his view.

But what's going to happen afterward?

"Aemond." You look up at him, trying to send a message with just a look.

"Yes, we can just stay here, my love." He smoothly says, not missing a beat.

You're not having it anymore. "What about your marriage?"

"Don't." His entire demeanor changes, losing all his sly playfulness.

"What about Alys Rivers?"

"She does not matter."

"She is your betrothed. She should matter." You stand, arms crossed, trying to catch his eyes, but he is adamant in looking away.

"My love," he moans in exasperation. He doesn't want to reveal the true reason of why he chose Alys Rivers. More than a whim, as he wants to make himself believe. More than how amusing and strange she might be. More than how she defies nearly all the standards warranted of a royal consort for someone of his status.

"Prince Aemond's Alys," as she likes to call herself, was more than just a Strong bastard. She was a Strong bastard witch.

Aemond has only read about the religion of R'hollor in ancient texts, never seeing any proof with his own eyes, until Alys.

She knew things. She could see things. She promised Aemond that she can all but guarantee victory for the Greens, more especially for Aemond, if he just gives himself to her.

He thought, if marriage with you was not possible, then why not choose a marriage that would actually prove to be beneficial. A marriage that would give him power.

When he made his decision, he allowed himself to close his heart to you, even just for a moment. His anger won over - how you abandoned him, how you did not endeavour to see him or speak to him. He thought if he was not going to marry his love, then what better than a fucking witch.

"It's not that simple," is all that comes out of him.

"It is," you raise your voice, "don't marry her because you love me!"

"She may..." he paces the room slowly, "She may yet be of use to me."

"What the fuck does that mean? Do you care about her?"

"Not in the way that you think."

Frustration bubbles up inside you. Why is he being so cryptic? You sigh, "So tell me then. Make me understand, Aemond."

Aemond doesn't know what to say, without arousing any more of your anger. Should he reveal that Alys may help his side win the war, then that ultimately means that your side will be defeated. Most likely even amassing more casualties. More people whom you care about.

Of course, Aemond would never let anything happen to you. As a matter of fact, he's doing this for you. So this war can finally end, and you can spend the rest of your days together. But that wouldn't matter. You will never be able to see past this. Aemond taking up another lover, simply for the purpose of bringing about the downfall of the Blacks. You would never want to speak to him again. Should you feel compelled to kill him, he wouldn't blame you.

So what the fuck do I do, my love? What can I do, that won't result in losing you? Aemond's torment can be reflected in his expression, in his steely gaze.

"I will not marry her. But, if I am to be honest, she will be still be present, for other reasons." Does that sound neutral enough? No, even that is not enough.

"Is she to be your whore?"

"No." He says firmly, but he's not entirely sure what Alys would want from him, in exchange for her prophecies, for the words she hears from the fire, for the visions presented to her in the smoke and in the storm clouds.

“But?”

“She may stay.”

“And you can’t tell me the true reason why.” You feel everything start to unravel. You and him reunited, and made your desires heard, ending in a clash of love and lust beneath the sheets. A year of longing, desperation, uncertainty, and betrayal – all seemingly resolved, somewhat, in a long night of uninhibited passion. But were you simply pretending not to see? Who he is, and who you are? Can you ever truly see eye to eye, and be together?

Aemond reaches for your hand, and you’re too weak to fend him off, even though your pride screams at you to do so.

“Please understand, my love.” His voice comes out tired. “Alys… she… can see things. She has already been of help to me in a previous battle, and if she continues to help me, I may gain enough of an advantage to finally to put an end to this fucking war, once and for all.”

“You mean…” A name comes to mind, taken from the histories which you pored over so diligently. “she’s a… witch? She has visions? That is all real?”

He nods once, “That’s the only reason why I’m not getting rid of her yet. She will never replace you. To even think such a thing is ludicrous and senseless. She’s merely a tool that I’m using to win this war, so that we may be together…”

“And how will she help you? Perhaps by telling you where Daemon or Rhaenyra might be, and when is the best time to strike, so that you may kill them? What if she says that the next step will be to kill me? What if that will turn the tide to your favour? Aemond…”

“I would never let any harm befall you.” Aemond feels insulted that you would imply such a thing. His impatience grows, and his tone sours, “Don’t you want this to cease? The Blacks will never surrender, even though they should-”

“You mean we should surrender? You would have to take me into account as well. I am part of the Blacks, after all, Aemond.”

He feels you pulling farther and farther away, but he moves closer, his face inches from yours, “You know I’m right. If that traitor Rhaenyra had only accepted the terms that my mother had presented then…”

“If only you had not chased your young nephew Lucerys while riding the world’s largest war-dragon, leading to his demise, then the rightful Queen Rhaenyra might have been more lenient in dealing with you traitors.” The words spill out you, spiteful and unrelenting, not giving any mind to how it might sound.

Clearly, that struck a nerve, and you had meant it to. The tension is overwhelming, as if one of you might draw your sword at any moment.

You wait for him to speak up and defend himself, to finally reveal his anger to you. You lean back on one heel, preparing for the onslaught.

Instead, he grabs your face roughly, and pulls you in for a searing kiss. His tongue invades your mouth, protest dying between your lips. You can’t pull away, you don’t want to. So you grab on to him with the same passion, the same desperation. Your hands unconsciously reach up to entangle in his white-golden hair. You kiss him with rage, you kiss him with love. He uses his mouth to extinguish your frustration, even if only for a moment.

And finally, all too soon, you part.

“Ñuha perzys.” My fire, he whispers against you, like a solemn prayer, “One could say that you are the bane of my existence. And, yet, you are the reason for it, as well.”

“Don’t do it. Don’t meddle with such things. You don’t need her.” You whisper, throat feeling thick with emotion, but you know he has already made up his mind. One thing that made you fall in love with Aemond was his relentlessness, his drive, after all. Though these unavoidably get misguided.

“Do you trust me?” Your face is held tightly in his hands, eyes searching yours.

“No,” you shake your head, barely, “yn, avy jorrāelan.” …but, I love you.

He nods, and as he always does, lovingly connects his forehead to yours.

For now, that is enough.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

The ride back to King’s Landing was a quiet one, Aemond still reeling from the feeling of your skin on his, and the sounds emitted from your lips in the darkest hours of the night. As well as the severity of your words, but your rage only spurred his admiration on.

He had missed you, there was no doubt. He is determined not to be apart from you again, at least not for so long a time.

He has just had audience with his mother, the Lady Alicent, about his intention to put a stop to his wedding to Alys Rivers. This proposal was met with as much enthusiasm as a stern mother would allow, given one who never approved of his betrothed in the first place.

Alicent Hightower sat there, mulling over her more favoured son’s words, wondering what might have led him to making such a rushed decision.

“I realize the impropriety of it all, mother,” he said, not revealing the entirety of his reasoning. “You were right about Alys. She does not hold nearly high enough of a status to be my lady wife.”

“And how did you not come to this conclusion sooner?” Alicent asked gently. Aemond had come into her quarters unannounced, but she has always been glad for his visits. Now, even more so.

“I suppose I was acting out of spite. You’re well aware of what I think of marriage, especially in these times, when protecting our claim to the Iron Throne is most paramount. And, my being wed to a bastard of House Strong will not serve any purpose.” Aemond spat, unable to hide the disgust in his words. That disgust stemmed from Alys not being you, rather than her being a bastard, but Alicent need not know that.

“I shall inform the council of your decision. You must not act hastily again, Aemond. There are heavy costs to be incurred.” Alicent declared.

“Hmm.” Her son agreed.

“What of Lady Rivers? Shall I send for her to be taken away?”

“No, I will deal with her.” Aemond said, and Alicent was not sure what to make of that.

“Will you be keeping her, Aemond?”

Her son said nothing, resolute in staring at the flames dancing in the hearth.

She continues, “There is no need to feel ashamed if you wish to have her as a bedmate, Aemond. You are the prince, so it would be an honour for her to-”

Aemond stood abruptly, halting his mother’s words, who merely looked up at him, waiting.

“I shall take my leave now, mother.”

Alicent rose, taking his hands for a moment, before he walked out swiftly. In the back of her mind, briefly, she had thought of you. In her eyes, you had been the only woman for whom Aemond had expressed any strong affection for. She wondered if you might have influenced his decision now.

But how could you have, if you were lost to him?

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

“I no longer wish to be wed to you. I apologize for any inconvenience or displeasure that this may cause, my lady, but I have made up my mind. You know full well that my heart was never truly in this union, and I am convinced that you have the same sentiment.”

Aemond wastes no time in making his intentions known to Alys, whom he called to his chambers after speaking with his mother.

If Alys Rivers is surprised by this declaration, her expression does not betray her. She merely sits across her now former betrothed, taking in his words.

“Aemond…” she opens her mouth to speak, but Aemond merely halts her with a raised hand.

“As for our arrangement… there is no reason for that to cease along with our betrothal. You will continue to be in service to me. You will continue to impart your visions, truthfully, so that I may win this war.”

“With all due respect, my prince Aemond,” The title always sounds lewd coming from her, as if she means to claim him by saying it, “why the fuck should I do that?”

Aemond’s gaze becomes steely and unwavering, meant to dispel any dissent coming from Alys. She may be a witch, but he will never allow her to have any power over him.

“Because, my lady, if not for me, you would have likely been raped and murdered upon our taking of Harrenhal. You owe your life to me, and as it stands, I demand your loyalty.” His voice lowers, as he continues, “Refuse, and I’ll have no further use for you. Although… the Street of Silk customarily remains in need of women of your calibre.”

The final insult hangs in the air, solidifying how Aemond views his former betrothed.

Alys’ demeanor morphs into one of acquiescence. But there was a darkness simmering within. She stands abruptly, ignoring the need to wait for his command, “Will that be all, Aemond?” No longer her Aemond, but he might have never been hers, after all.

She stares at him, one which he does not return. His mind is elsewhere. His mind is on you.

“My prince?” she asks again, frustrated by his callous ignorance of her.

“Hmm.” He wags two fingers, carelessly, in the direction of the door. Leave.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

Alys had been moved from her royal quarters, into one which is smaller, in the lower levels of the palace.

Chin held high, she tried her best to ignore the whispers and penetrating stares of onlookers, as she was escorted through the halls, with her meager possessions in her arms. Word quickly spread of the prince’s decision, and the festivities were immediately put to a halt. Most of the lords and ladies could not hide their satisfaction at the dismissal of the bastard lady, whom they never favoured as their new princess.

Among all the items in her quarters, she had held on to an ornate red box, about the size of her forearm. She did not seem to mind leaving the rest, even if she was given leave to take anything she wished.

It was the miniature red trunk, one which she already had, prior to being taken from Harrenhal, that she chose to take.

As moonlight begins to bleed faintly in her small window, she holds the box open in her lap, facing the humble hearth.

Aemond did not know this, but she knew of you. The Lord of Light had opened her eyes to your existence, to your parasitic intrusion to her relationship with Aemond. The Lord of Light had whispered the truth to her. When he left the feast, some nights before, she had known that it was to see you.

It was only a matter of time, according to her Red God, before she would have to act in order to secure her position. To have a higher power over the realm. To have a permanent stake in Aemond’s heart.

And the time has come. She sees you in the night sky, a triumphant smile on your face, riding on dragonback. Through the flames, through the eyes of the Lord of Light, she sees.

The time has come. And so she begins.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

You prepare to depart Horn Hill, walking towards your dragon, Fyraxes. House Tarly had called for aid, as they had been under siege by the Hightower and Lannister armies, who wanted to claim their land and resources for the Greens.

Instead of sending knights, Jacaerys had proposed coming on dragonback – a better show of force to the surrounding armies, making them measly in comparison. You had eagerly volunteered to join him, and Daemon was also quick to follow, saying, “Any chance to burn those fucking Greens, I’d happily take.”

So the three of you went, and as predicted, the Green armies stood no chance, and House Tarly remains intact and well-defended.

“Well done, Jace, Y/n.” Daemon calls out, preparing to mount his dragon as well.

“Back to Dragonstone, is it, then?” you smile, pleased about today’s small yet significant victory.

“Race you, y/n!” Jace yells, already mounted on Vermax, commanding her to fly.

“Oh no you don’t!” you hurriedly position yourself on Fryraxes, and Daemon merely laughs fondly at the two of you, “Sōvegon, Fyraxes.” Fly.

Fyraxes lifts herself off the ground, the sensation never failing to set your whole being alight. Flying on dragonback has always been as easy as breathing. You needed this. This was a form of escape from all this darkness, a way to be free. You wished you and Aemond could simply fly endlessly, to your heart’s desire.

Suddenly, Fyraxes groans, the sound reverberating throughout her body. She stops about a hundred feet above the ground, faltering, abruptly swaying from one side to the other.

“Y/n! What’s happening?” Daemon yells from Caraxes, flying just above you.

“I don’t know!” you yell back in a panic, and turn to your ailing dragon, “Skoros iksis pirta, Fyraxes? Sōvegon! Dohaeragon nyke!” What is wrong, Fyraxes? Fly! Serve me!

The words barely leave you, when you’re hit with a sudden onslaught of nausea, your vision effectively blurring. As if you’re feeling just what Fyraxes is feeling.

“Y/n!” You hear Daemon scream for you once more, more faintly now, and you can vaguely make out Caraxes flying towards you.

But it is too late. You succumb to the darkness.

And both dragon and her rider hurtle towards the ground.

▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎ ▪︎

series taglist: @dazecrea @ladystardvsts @afro-hispwriter @dudfahsn @poohkie90 @cleverzonkwombatsludge @lilostif16 @deeeeexx @nephitis @minicikasworld @livimulati @the-orions-belt @stillinracooncity @lawlerek @missusnora @wickedbutlovely @umavvitch @claudie-080102 @abcdefghi-lmnopqrstuvwxyz @puredicks @crazylokonuggett @lj127 @icarusignite @mandyki @darylandbethfanforever9 @highexpectationsgurl @whitejuliana1204 @caught-in-the-afterglow @witchmoon @meilikki @carlottalhn @xcinnamonmalfoyx @writer-lee5 @solacestyles @noneedtosearch @thatawkwardlittlefangirl @vensidia @xinyourdreamsx @mikariell95 @cryztalline @fairaardirascenarios @disturbing-love666 @404slayer404 @aemondswh0re @ietss @snixx2088 @inpraizeof @evye47 @schniiipsel @kellzlib @youngbunny3 @ellaash

I self-indulged and held back on the angst :) though this chapter did not end happily anyhow.

I also went ahead and named your dragon, Fyraxes, just for ease of writing.

Next chapter might be shorter and will consist of Aemond fucking. shit. up. After he finds out.

Those tagged here are for this series - let me know if you wish to be tagged for other Aemond works as well :)

#house of the dragon imagine #house of the dragon #aemond targaryen smut #aemond targaryen x y/n #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen #ewan mitchell #aemond targaryen fanfiction

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soupandsorcery · 1 month

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"No son of mine--" Lucius roars, drawing himself up to his full, impressive height. He's red in the face, his thinning hair wispy and unkempt in his anger. "Do you hear me, Draco? No son of mine is going to flounce around dressed like a--" He cuts himself off, like he doesn't know what he wants to say.

And Draco, well. Draco has a moment of perfect, sparkling clarity.

It's as if all of a sudden, Draco's childhood is rearranging itself. All the spoiling, the pampering, the vacations to lavish, lush places, interspersed with hiding under the bed from Lucius' rages, clutching at Narcissa's hand in the kitchen while Lucius shattered crystal in the parlor. Being led, Lucius' hand in a white knuckled grip on Draco's shoulder, to stand in front of the Dark Lord. All the little moments Draco shoved down or ignored in favor of a cruel, empty smile and doing what was best for the family. What Lucius said was best, anyway.

Now, everything is different. Now, Draco knows that Lucius Malfoy is a small, scared man, clinging to the last vestiges of his control with everything he has. And Draco knows that she will do anything, anything to avoid ending up like him.

"That's fine," she says, cutting in before Lucius can take another breath.

"Excuse me?"

"I said 'that's fine'," Draco replies coolly. "You don't have to worry about what a son of yours would do because you don't have a son, and considering the way you treated me when you thought you did, I don't plan to stick around and find out how you could scar a daughter for life."

Lucius splutters, struck dumb by Draco's pronouncement. It feels good, she won't lie.

She turns sharply, heels clacking with finality as she walks across the polished marble floor of the Manor's entry way and heads for the stairs, hopefully, for the last time.

She pulls out her mobile as she goes, sending off two texts with clumsy fingers. Why are the keyboards on these things so bleeding small?

I hope you were serious about letting me move in with you, Potter.

Because I'm certain I can never come back here.

There's a long moment before Potter responds, and Draco starts throwing the few things she wants to keep from this place into her trunk. It's depressing, how little feels worth saving here.

Her phone buzzes, cutting off that train of thought.

Dead serious, Potter replies. I need you to help me with this place.

And then, Proud of you, Malfoy.

So that's that settled, then.

#drarry #drarry microfic #hpdm #draco malfoy #trans woman draco #noah plays with words #just something self indulgent that's been in my head for a bit #i kind of want to do a series of microfics with trans woman draco and harry getting together #maybe even trans woman draco and harry and ron #i don't have the attention span for a whole fic so microfics it is lol

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jacevelaryonswife · 1 year

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Golden and Silver, my new colors | part two

That day Aemond had thought about you more than ever. Maybe it was time to deal with his ghosts and allow your to approach, to see beyond what his eye could see.

∴ pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Wife!reader

∴warnings and a note: slight angst, pregnancy, some reader’s thoughts may be a little aggressive to the topic of pregnancy, spiteful reader, english is not my first language. There's a bit of book!aemond here.

golden and silver masterlist

Duty was more important than petty desires. Prince Aemond did not wish to marry so suddenly, but he performed his duty with obedience. You were a good lady, beautiful and quite polite, but nothing more. You were like all the others that made up the royal court, just normal, there was nothing special about you and he didn't have to convince himself of that. However, there were certain moments when he almost leaned into your touch and let himself sink into the melody of your voice a little longer. It was unexpected, sudden, and almost ripped a hole in the armor that protected him from your affection. It started when you so proudly displayed his colors in your dresses and jewelry, the blue with the purple hues of sapphires enhancing your beauty. Later when you asked him about reading preferences, maybe your intention wasn't as genuine, but it was a good attempt at rapprochement.

He knew that his posture did not match that of a husband, nor the husband you deserved, but it was strange to deal with your presence and especially your affection. No lady ever bothered to disguise their disgust when crossing his path. No matter how good he was with a sword or if he owned the largest dragon in the world, in the end he was just Aemond One-Eye, not as handsome as his younger brother or lucky enough to be the firstborn. So imagine his surprise at not receiving your dislike? You were a pretty little thing, a little afraid and almost desperate for your husband's attention and approval. A good, kind lady, in his mother's words. A nice ass and nice tits, in Aegon's words. Yet what prevented him from removing a part of the shield to allow entry? You weren't dismissive, much less cunning or cruel. A part of him refused to budge, another part just didn't have enough interest. Too simple maybe.

But then the news of your pregnancy hit him. He would be a father. It was particularly strange to the ears. Not all men are born to be fathers — he had some very close examples — so the thought troubled him. How could he be a decent father if he kept failing as a husband? He was aware of his flaw though he didn't do much to remedy it, not even Alicent's constant advice and suggestions made him change. However, things will never be the same, you were pregnant, expecting a little dragon in your womb, his dragon. The thought that had haunted him before (and continued to haunt him) now gave him a small twinge of pride.

“I hope that with this happy event you can understand each other,” the queen said.

That day Aemond had thought about you more than ever. Maybe it was time to deal with his ghosts and allow your to approach, to see beyond what his eye could see. He kept his hand over your for the better part of the dinner his mother had arranged last night — much to the delight of both families — and an almost satisfied expression was visible on his face. On the other hand, you were quieter than usual. Your answers were short and your gaze was almost always beyond the moment. Women were emotional, he knew that, and pregnancy tended to make them even more sensitive by what the books said. It could be something or it could be nothing.

To the surprise of everyone present, it was something. Unexpected and uncomfortable, to say the least. His tender and obedient wife, so affable and meek has just displayed an unknown and almost aggressive facet. Aemond could choose the blindness of ignorance and believe the nonsense his father had said to smooth your way out, but he knew better that wasn't a good sign, especially when you treated him apathetically in subsequent developments. At that moment the one-eye prince felt different sensations, but none were as terrifying as the realization of guilt. It could be a coincidence in fact, but it wasn't what his heart pointed out. After returning to the small dinner, Aemond reassured your parents and his mother with false words that he wisely disbelieved. Would it be naive to believe that your devotion would remain active without any kind of return? He mulled this over at the owl hour as you rested facing the wall. A small detail.

The next day when orange rays directly illuminated his face, Aemond noticed the empty bed before he noticed another small detail: you didn't wake him. Often your hands touched him on the face or shoulder so you had breakfast together every day. All from the first day of marriage. He faced the ceiling as he brooded over the situation. Maybe you needed to go somewhere, maybe the pregnancy made you more sensitive, maybe just like him you didn't know how to deal with the news. There were many options, but the one that tormented him was caused by himself.

That morning you felt a sudden urge to get away from him. Aemond was also a morning person, but he woke up a few minutes after you, giving you the advantage of sneaking out. Not that it was too difficult, you thought, your presence wasn't usually appreciated, what difference would it make?

Your personal maid had set the table as usual, but this time you didn't bother to dismiss her immediately for privacy with Aemond. She asked about the prince, which you answered quickly. Not a word was exchanged after that, you didn't even notice when she withdrew upon the arrival of your husband, too caught up in your current condition. A child, you would have a child soon and you couldn't get anything good out of it. Would you be able to love him with all the grudge you held in your chest? Would you be able to love this child while wishing his father would get out of your sight?

The wisest thing to do was to suppress such feelings and move on as a devoted wife and honorable daughter. But you didn't want that. No, you wanted to feel the grudge in it’s most palpable and fervent state. You wanted the freedom to feel and want what you desire without the interference of right or wrong.

"How are you feeling?" asked Aemond, breaking the silence.

"I’m fine."

That's all the two of you talked about. Interestingly, both the question and the answer were not completely honest. Yes, Aemond worried about you because of your condition, but mostly because he noticed the change in your behavior. And yes, you were physically fine and healthy, but on the inside… you just wanted to slaughter him.

Your meeting with the craftswoman was just after breakfast, the dress you wore was light orange, the majority color of your house, which would soon be replaced by shades of gold and silver. You also asked for new jewels of the same colors, of the most diverse sizes and shapes. You were a little extravagant and always liked to be neat. One of the perks of being a member of the royal family was the improved quality of cloth.

“I ask you to make them as soon as you can, I want to have them with me soon.”

“And the other dresses, my lady… the ones you own?” Asked the artisan's assistant, receiving a rigid answer from her:

“It is none of your business, Irma.”

"There’s no problem. I'm actually thinking of distributing them to the other ladies of the court or to the women of the poorest part of Kingslanding”, your voice was calm. "I never liked green, it won't be a problem to discard them." You didn't mind the look exchanged between the two women, very interested in the new models you would own.

On that day, the tradition that you and your friends kept of getting together whenever one was pregnant happened. You were the last of the small group and expected to be nervous. You felt nervous whenever you remembered the fact, but you were happy to be in the beautiful garden on a beautiful day.

“Have you thought of the names yet?” Drusilla asked.

“Not yet,” you replied as you took a piece of lemon cake.

"Valyrian names are very beautiful, but please don't name Aegon if it's a boy or Rhaenys if it's a girl," your other friend Livilla said, making you laugh.

“Please, how many Aegons has House Targaryen seen? I don't intend to collaborate with another one”, you replied in a good mood.

“And the prince? Did he suggest any names?” Kalena asked, bringing a sour taste to your mouth. Oh please, you meant to reply with an eye roll.

"No, not once, but if he wants to suggest it it should be a tawdry name like Maegor." Your tone was more prickly than usual, more than you intended to show (no less than you felt). Your friends smiled with some concern, and the comment in particular caught Livilla's attention.

"What's he like? You know, he was always so quiet and reserved?” she asked.

“He is quiet and reserved, nothing more.” Looks like I married a door, you wanted to say, but you chose not to reveal too much. You never know when the walls might hear.

“At least he is not unfaithful like Prince Aegon,” Drusilla said. How lucky I am. “It was a little difficult with Willas at first, we were strangers and I always thought his brother was better looking, but he was the heir, not Tyrent. However, time and the magical treasure he keeps in his legs made things easier.”

“Drusilla!” Kalena looked at her with wide eyes before laughing.

"You can't blame me for being fond of my husband's dowry!" she made light of it, “what about prince aemond, what is he like back there in four walls?”

“Uh…” you tried. “I don't know, is it normal? I think. I don't know."

“I'm sorry, dear”, it was Livilla's turn to speak. “I always thought that behind that black wall there would be a fierce stallion.”

“Behind that wall are as many other walls as the swords that forge the Iron Throne, believe me,” you complained.

“Targaryens, love them devotedly or hate them bitterly,” Drusilla said, studying your posture.

“Don't let these things get you down. Men are like that, they take time to appreciate what really matters. Perhaps now, with the pregnancy, he will open up to the present at your side,” Livilla said with a friendly smile.

You knew the risk of her next words, especially if they were heard, but you couldn't help it.

“What if I don't want to?”

On the other side of the palace the queen was talking alone with your husband. Not for the first time, but she hoped it might be the last —they both hoped for different reasons. She asked what happened last night, which he answered truthfully.

"I don't know, she's been quiet ever since."

“She’s pregnant, it’s a difficult but happy period. You are very lucky to have her by your side.”

“You already said that.”

��And you don't seem to listen. Do you think I like to repeat that?” She asked. “What's the problem, Aemond? What is the problem that makes you not understand?”

He did not answer.

“I have my own things to manage, the things of the kingdom in your father's absence. Do you know how much it demands?”

"Yes mother."

“Then why do you insist on going through with it?”

"I'm not asking-"

“But I’m your mother! And believe me, I've been in her place. It's been a long time since your union, Aemond, don't make things difficult on purpose. You will be a father soon, act like it, act like the son I raised.”

His gaze was hazy, hard to read. He hated being charged or warned about something he knew, he didn't need it, Aegon did. Leaving his mother's room after being dismissed, the one-eye prince knew he had a decision to make, but he didn't know he had little time to do so.

taglist: @immyowndefender @arcielee @malfoytargaryen @drinking-tea-and-be-obsessed @fan-goddess @dark-night-sky-99 @siriusdumblittlepuppy @let-love-bleeds-red @sassysaxsolo @cicaspair418 @yentroucnagol @mefools @risefallrise @auratiqs @glitterandgoldfinds @bellaisasleep @plzletmedaydream @padfooteyes @bellameshipper ✨✨

Thank you everyone for the positive feedback! There are a few people I wasn't able to tag, but I appreciate all the feedback received 💙

#aemond x you #aemond x reader #aemond oneshot #prince aemond #aemond #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x you #aemond one eye #fanfic #angst

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hueningsloverr · 3 months

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౨ৎ 48,300 hours !

pairing: soobin x reader summary: being soobins best friend usually came with a lot of benefits, until a certain point. it also apparently came with a lot of communication issues word count: 1.2k warnings: drunk soobin 💀 (friendly reminder the drinking age in korea is 19! this is not underage drinking!) extra: happy five years to our fearless leader!! moa's love you soob!! apart of my anniversary series!

you met soobin when you were both 18. he was scouted by big hit - by you coincidentally. you were the one who realised the number he put on his form was wrong; it was you who tracked him down.

you were utterly mesmerised by the boy. it was hard not to be. he was everything you were told to look for in an up-and-coming idol.

everything about him screamed 'idol', from his dancing to his smile. and he had the voice on an angel (or so you giggled to your friends late at night over the phone). he was the perfect fit for the new boy ground big hit was interested in putting together.

the only issue was he refused to work unless you worked with him. and so, you got promoted, and gained a new best friend.

years later, and soobin still bragged to everyone he met about you. about how if it wasn't for you, he wouldn't even be an idol.

'i'm serious! she's the one who tracked me down! she's my guardian angel!' he giggled drunkly one night to his friends over the table. their recent comeback - eternity - had gone better than anticipated, and so the leader called for a celebration. kai was passed out on the couch (from exhaustion. not drinking. we don't support underage drinking here!!!)

'soobin! seriously you need to stop telling everyone this. all i did was reach out to you.' you groaned, hiding your face in your hands so the other boys wouldn't see the embarrassment creeping up on you. 'you tell this story every time you get even slightly tipsy!'

yeonjun snickered, leaning over and whispering something in beomgyu's ear. the two boys laughed in their seats, the younger of the duo clutching his stomach as he leant against taehyun.

you never learnt what yeonjun said to beomgyu that night, but it never truly seemed important. at least until soobin started staying out later, and claiming that he was just too busy to hang out anymore.

you suspected he was meeting someone - he wasn't bad looking, and he was nice. it wouldn't shock you that he was seeing someone. but it still hurt. that was the shocking part. the hurt.

you had no reason to be hurt, not really. soobin had every right to date whoever he pleased. no matter how much you detested him it. you also detested whoever out there got to see him in ways you never would - the in love side.

it's not like you were in love with your best friend. you just cared. a lot. that's all there was to your relationship - at least up until he showed up drunk outside your apartment door, barely able to support himself.

'soobin?' you whisper-shouted, eyes wide as you stared him down. what the hell was he thinking?

'yeonjun wouldn't pick up his phone when i called him.' he pouted, a downcast look spread across his face.

you sighed, opening your door slightly, motioning for him to come in. he half stumbled half fell through your entry way, and in some alternate universe your heart would've swelled at the fact that out of everyone, he chose to come to you. yet all you felt was pity.

'get into a nasty break up?' you mused, hooking your arm under his shoulder to help support him. it was no help that he was a towering six foot one.

he laughed at your words, shaking his head as you lead him towards your couch. 'i'm not dating anyone, silly.' he poked, and you could feel his body shake from laughing too hard. you simply nodded at his words, setting him down gently.

'so why're you here? just felt like stopping by?'

'i'm in love with you.'

you paused, your back towards him.

it was just a cruel joke.

he was drunk.

'you're wasted, soobin.' you huffed, grabbing him some spare blankets and a pillow. the other four boys were probably all passed out, and even if they were awake, asking them to make the forty-five minute drive at nearly two in the morning was just cruel.

he never responded. by the time you gathered your thoughts enough to face him and turned back around, he was passed out. you tucked him in, much like a mother would to a young child, and left him in your living room. come morning, he was gone. all that he left was a stack of neatly folded blankets and an excruciatingly long hand-written letter detailing the embarrassment he felt.

you never brought up that night to him. never spoke of his words. you had half the mind to just blame the alcohol. but a part of you hoped there was some piece of him that truly meant his words. but you would never say anything that could possibly jeopardise your job and your relationship with your best friend. so, your buried your feelings and continued on working side by side the tall boy.

at least, not until you were reaching the five year mark of soobin calling you his guardian angel.

"so, wanna go out?" he grinned, leaning over the kitchen counter. you had invited all the boys over, along with a few other friends, to celebrate their upcoming comeback and their five year debut anniversary. "for dinner maybe? we've known each other so long, we have so much to celebrate!"

you stuttered in your movements, his wording catching you off guard. "go out?" you confirmed, eyebrows furrowing as you continued to grab glasses from the cabinet. "your wording is always odd, choi." you teased, turning around to face him.

his face was flushed pink, though he quickly turned away. "you just like making fun of me." he whined, rolling his eyes slightly. "but it's whatever. it's why i love you."

he said those words so casually you felt like you were seconds away from organ failure. it was whiplash. a weird dream. maybe the end of the world?

"what?" you sputtered, eyes wide.

your panic clearly set something off inside of him, for soon his expression matched yours. "what do you mean 'what?'" he gasped, and suddenly it felt as if the two of you spoke entirely different languages. "why are you acting like this is news?"

you shook your head, willing yourself to wake up from the fever dream you were experiencing. "because it is?"

he laughed slightly, though it was not as if something was funny. it was a painful, confused laugh. "i told you i loved you years ago!"

your face fell in that instant. he had meant it?

"you told me you loved me back! i thought-" he paused, mortified. "i thought that meant we were… you know? oh my god! i just assumed you were too embarrassed to talk about it - i never thought that you weren't aware."

now it was your turn to laugh. it was cliché. miscommunication at the finest. "i've loved you for five years soobin." you smiled, moving across the counter to place a hand on his cheek. he was smiling like a mad man.

"you don't even understand how badly i've wanted you to tell me that." he spoke as if a weight had been lifted off his chest, as if he could finally breathe properly again. "i've been in love with you for an exhausting 48,300 hours. you know how tiring it is to love someone for every second of the day?"

a/n: decided to take a crack at the classic 'you didn't know i've been in love with you? we've been dating in my head for like, forever' trope!!

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eldesperadont · 1 year

Text

hello and welcome to the start of my rough Despe/Hiromu recap essay! I'll go over their history in relation to one another. A big reason for this recap is to explain my fascination with the 10+ year long history of these characters, and why I, a queer person, is so drawn to it — this post will include links, spoilers and cover the first 9 years of their careers. If you have corrections or additional infos pls DM me!!

egg, (2010-2012)

Hiromu Takahashi and El Desperado started their pro wrestling training around the same time in NJPWs dojo – both passing NJPW's entry exam in 2009 and training for roughly a year till they officially debuted in 2010.

Desperado in March under his real name, Mikami Kyōsuke, and Hiromu later in August. And here we already have some key moments:

Takahashi's professional debut was a singles match against Mikami. (its on YouTube btw)

Despe's first ever singles victory was defeating Hiromu in said debut match.

Mikami is older and ahead of Takahashi, going on to have an impressive winning record over Hiromu, who only managed to get a sole victory over Despe during their time together as students. (two if you count in a dark match)

Hiromu genuinely struggled a lot as a Young Lion (dojo trainee), having been close to giving up on wrestling if it weren’t for main roster wrestler Tetsuya Naito, who took him under his wing.

So yeah starting off Despe had the upper hand.

This part of their career is the hardest to research given that 1.) the language barrier was way higher a decade ago, 2.) there straight up is barely any footage. So instead, I want to explain the emotional importance of the NJPW dojo background:

The time as Young Lions in NJPW is kayfabe canon. These guys are rivals but also teammates, live and train together, fight with/and each other, cheer each other on in their bouts with the seniors, carry each other to the back when they once again got beaten – these guys are close, they have to, it's them against the world.

And that is the case for pretty much all the homegrown NJPW talent. This system provides feuds with an emotional core; why would someone who was that close be so cruel to each other now? What turns brothers, best friends, partners into enemies? So much room for juicy rivalries with a real weight behind it, after all we watched these guys grow and learn, saw their highs and lows.

Also on a less serious note it's simply amusing to watch old stuff and see two guys that will be bitter rivals, who’s matches will get praise and awards - tag together in mostly fruitless efforts, stumble behind the curtain together and be so clueless about all the greatness they’ll achieve one day thanks to each others hard work.

Young Lions my beloved <3

oceans apart, (2012-2016)

As is custom with most Young Lions both went on excursion: Mikami graduating first, in 2012, and working in Mexico for a year as "Namajague" - Hiromu leaving Japan the year Desperado debuts on the New Japan main roster, in 2014, touring in Mexico and the US as "Kamaitachi" till August 2016.

Both worked in CMLL as heels, as is custom for foreign trainees, starting as masked wrestlers, loosing them in a stipulation match, and also getting their hair shaved at some point.

Here you have unmasked Namajague, who went on to rock a half facepaint look and had half of his hair bleached (in 2014, a trendsetter)

and here you got a young unmasked Kamaitachi (yes he was in a team with Christopher Daniels and Frankie Kazarian in RoH)

These are the years Mikami and Hiromu don’t interact in canon, but in an 2020 interview Desperado confessed that he kept an eye on Takahashi during the latter's excursion, cause of his success in Middle/North America and spectacular matches with Dragon Lee.

Love confessions, (May - June 2018)

Their rivalry was fully rekindled in the “Best of the Super Juniors 25” tournament, so let’s set the scene:

Takahashi’s successful: having won the most important championship for their weight division in his first year on the main roster. He’s beloved by fans and critics and a valuable member of his mentor's faction, Los Ingobernables de Japon.

El Desperado is struggling: unsuccessfully having fought for singles titles several times in the last couple of years. His only championship victories so far having been in the tag division, after joining Suzuki-gun, a shady group that tolerates him, but not without hurdles. The masked man debuted in 2013 as a cheerful honourable guy, but by now he was just a bitter, sinister bastard.

They will have their first singles meeting in 6 years, and their first on the main roster.

They are winking and nodding towards the fact that Desperado already has several wins over the younger guy, but do not address who Despy really is - officially Mikami Kyōsuke hasn’t wrestled in New Japan ever since he left for Mexico.

Leading up to the BOSJ Hiromu made a booklet in which he describes all of his possible opponents, Desperado's page is kept blank at first, but later Takahashi adds “I know who you are, and I hate you.”

Despy wants to impress Hiromu. He was one half of the IWGP Jr. Tag champs at that point and took both belts with him to the ring - he's also wearing a special mask, that is mostly white, a colour Japanese wrestlers tend to only wear on special occasions/in big matches.

A lot has changed since they last fought 1 on 1 - except one thing: Hiromu cannot beat Desperado.

Both didn’t shy away from using dirty tricks, but in the end Despy has the upper hand once more. As his opponent lays defeated in the ring the masked menace has this to say:

(postmatch promo) (the match)

Hiromu will go on to win the tournament and IWGP Jr. Heavyweight belt from Will Ospreay at the 2018 Dominion show, but the loss to his fellow former Young Lion means that the latter has the right to challenge him, and so he does, in this now infamous promo.

please watch the whole thing: link

(funfact, this happened the same night Kenny won the IWGP Heavyweight Title with Ibushi in his corner, the gays were EATING that day, in pride month no less)

Leading up to their confrontation Hiromu would post a video on his twitter playing the 'love me/not' flower game, landing on "he loves me" - which promptly makes him eat the flower in frustration

On the day of their match, June 18 2018, he brings Desperado a present:

A bouquet in a guitar case, a cruel call back to Desperados main roster debut back in early 2014: after Kota Ibushi won the IWGP Jr. Heavyweight belt at Wrestle Kingdom 8 a masked stranger approached the ring with a guitar case, revealing it to carry a bouquet of black roses for the freshly crowned champ (who was a lil confused by the whole situation)

It was the start of Despes unsuccessful run as a face and partnership with Ibushi (which you can read as the first man he tried to pursue).

The masked lad wasn't that fond of Hiromu bringing back old memories.

Their match is an all out war, both using underhanded tactics to keep the other one down, including Hiromu unmasking Despy, who shockingly doesn’t care at all - which is a huge deal, I'm going to quote Japanese NJPW commentator Milano here because he said it best:

“To a masked wrestler that’s your identity. It’s everything. But Desperado has it ripped off and then just puts it on like he was fixing his necktie. He was saying that this very essence of himself wasn’t as important as Hiromu or the belt." (translation by Chris Charlton)

But in the end Hiromu is victorious, finally ending his losing streak. After the match he has some interesting things to say:

(postmatch promo) (the match)

Life’s a b*tch. (mid 2018 - late 2019)

Hiromu's next title defence is in August 2018 in the USA against Dragon Lee, a match I still haven't been able to watch and probably never will. Due to a messed up move from his opponent, Hiromu lands hard on his neck, breaking it in the process. He somehow managed to finish the match but collapsed backstage, immediately being rushed to a hospital.

In the documentary RED HEADED REVIVAL Hiromu shared that he knew right away that something was wrong – he saw his life flash before his eyes and feared that this is the end of his career, but he decided against stopping the fight:

It took Hiromu over a year to fully recover.

That wasn't the only unfortunate incident though: in spring of 2019 Desperado broke his jaw in a deathmatch against his idol Jun Kasai. The timing couldn't have been worse: the highly anticipated BOSJ Tournament for that year being just about to start. Despe had to withdraw mere days before its opening.

Neither of them would make a return till late 2019. And their next actual confrontation wouldn’t be till 2020.

It was a sad time to be a fan of either - with Hiromu we didn't know till his return if he will even be able to wrestle again. And with Despy we had to witness fans being unnecessarily rude to him, ridiculing him about doing a deathmatch in the first place, eventho the injury could have occurred in any type of match. (if I remember correctly, Desperado even deleted his twitter due to the fan backlash)

BUT I'm gonna end this post on a good note:

1.) Despy's return marked the start of a new era for him:

He wasn't gonna apologise, he broke his jaw, so what? Shit happens. He wasn't going to pretend that the situation didn't happen either tho, hell - Despe returned in a shirt covered in blood spots, making direct references to the match he got injured in. (sth he talked about in this video) And his mask? Dons a fractured jawbone now, the cracks filled in with gold - reminiscent of kintsugi, a Japanese method for repairing broken ceramics with a special lacquer mixed with gold, silver, or platinum. The philosophy behind the technique is to recognize the history of the object and to visibly incorporate the repair into the new piece instead of disguising it.

2.) Hiromu wasn't giving up on his way of life either, making a spectacular return - the best was yet to come. Individually and together/against each other.

Stay tuned for the next part, that will absolutely also take me ages to finally put out, I'm apologising in advance,, anyways thx bye!! <3 👹🐱

#el desperado #hiromu takahashi #percht.txt #wrestling thoughts tm #🐱👹#njpw #desperomu #namajague #kamaitachi #mikami kyosuke

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