#the way he smiles in the second one because no matter what she's his treasure he'd give it all up for her he doesn't care that he's killing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

arminsumi · 7 months

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when is daddy coming home ?

g. satoru ⋅ fem wife reader

note: WOW i'm so sorry for writing this anyways tagging @satoruhour for no reason except i'm evil 👍 ik we need fluff comfort rn but i had to get out at least one devastating post. anyways. enjoy the suffering!!

warnings — heavy pure angst prepare to suffer and cry more than you already are, implied death, chapter 236 spoilers

playme ♪ oh god it's you i watch tv with / when i wake up i see you with me... as long as i'm here, no one can hurt you

scurrying around the kitchen, there's no free time when you've got a little mouth to feed. and you smile when you see your cute little girl devouring the bowl of steaming food. it's satoru's favorite, he asked you to make it today especially and you don't know why.

an hour goes by. you observe your child drawing a scribbly heart.

" what are you drawing ? " you ask, and she replies with " something for daddy. "

" it looks beautiful. who's that ? "

" that's you. and that's daddy. and that's me. "

" are we inside a heart ? "

" yup ! we're inside daddy's heart, because it has the most space. "

your heart feels a peculiar pang, and you look out the window. how strange, you felt like your whole world caved in for that split second.

" mommy, when is daddy coming home ? " your little girl asks innocently.

" soon, angel. "

you ring his number.

gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !

you remember the day he made this prerecorded messgae. his ow at the end is a reaction to your little girl biting him when she was teething, that was years and years ago now.

the little bell on her bracelet sounds. it's the bracelet that you and gojo wove together in high school; your little one had found it in your memory box and loved it so much that she asked if she could have it as her birthday gift.

that bell chimes as she moves her wrist to color in satoru's eyes with the prettiest blue crayon. and for some reason, it sounds louder than ever; you stare at it. why are tears coming forth?

the tv is playing. the birds are chirping. the world keeps spinning. but your world? it feels like it broke apart. and why? what was this feeling? you felt like... like something devastating has just happened.

you try satoru's phone again, wandering aimlessly into the kitchen. it feels eerily quiet and joyless.

gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now, leave a message — ow !

you try it again.

gojo satoru ~ i'm busy right now —

you try it again.

gojo satoru ~

he was mimicking the way you always said his name in high school.

and you start breaking down crying, trying and trying repeatedly as if it would change anything. you don't need someone to knock on your door to tell you he's gone, because you can feel it; his spirit isn't in this world anymore. you and him were completely connected, a string between the two of you that linked your hearts and subconscious no matter the distance between them.

when you look up at the sky, there's an endless blue. but all you really think of when you see that sky is his eyes. when you first met, that was one of the first things you told him.

" your eyes put the skies to shame. "

and he replied with something so cheesy that for some reason made you fall in love with him right there.

" aw. well, you put the angels to shame. "

the food goes cold. in his last moment, when he detached from the world, he was thinking about returning home to you. that's why he had asked you to make his favorite, after all. he thought it would be nice to enjoy such a simple thing after saving the world.

it's funny, even if he would have saved the world, he wouldn't have been able to come home to boast about it to you; because you never knew that side of him.

you never knew he was gojo satoru.

you just knew he was your gojo satoru, your doting husband.

when those eyes stared up at the blue sky for the last time, he thought;

at least i got to say i love you to you this morning, and give you that big kiss. treasure it baby, there will be no more now.

rest well honoured one.

Do not plagiarize / repost / translate / copy layouts / etc.

Do not steal what I've worked hard to create.

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one-idea · 4 months

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Is there anything out there yet about a Nika worshiping cult trying to capture Luffy. Because there should be.

Maybe the crew comes a cross an island and the people are way to friendly. It’s giving Zoro flashbacks of Wiskey Peaks and he’s already starting to warn the crew not to trust these people.

But they’re so nice. Offering the crew food (Luffy’s sold)

and taking about a treasure hidden on the island (Nami’s all in as soon as money is brought up)

There are beautiful women who are more then excited to watch Sanji cook (Sanji’s suspicion is gone instantly)

Usopp’s with Zoro, always be cautious. But then they start complimenting the Sunny and Franky is proud to tell them about his baby and Usopp gets roped into talking about his inventions and then people are complimenting him(“come on Zoro-bro lighten up.”)

Brook is entertaining while Sanji cooks, both wrapped up in the tasks and the women around them.

Chopper’s been distracted by all the people complimenting him

The only people still on guard are Robin, Jinbei, and Zoro (no matter how much sake they put in front of him he’s not going to drop his guard. Not when the people seem really focused on his captain.

Robin is indulging the crowd but her eyes are sharp waiting for the Betrayal to come. It’s how she survived for so long and she’s not losing her crew.

Jinbei’s been around for a while and while he starts to drop his guard. (His captain and crew seem content to enjoy themselves, relaxing might not hurt) he hears some whispering of Nika in the crowd. He can’t pin down who is talking or what is being said but he’s not letting his guard drop until he knows their intensions.

Zoro is staying pretty close to Luffy as he watches over the rest of the crew. One of the villagers hands Luffy a drink and he downs it without thinking. And then he starts choking.

His hand goes up to his throat and he can’t breath. There’s no air making its way in. Zoro’s attention is immediately on his captain. Holding him up and trying to figure out what is wrong. The crowd starts to push in towards them and Zoro is quick to draw Wado Ichimonji holding Luffy close with his other hand and calling for the crew.

He can’t draw Sandai Kitetsu yet, she’s screaming for blood and he is to but he can’t give in to that impulse until Luffy is safe with another crew mate and they know what’s going on. It’s the same reason he doesn’t draw Enma who calling for the death of anyone threatening their king. Wado Ichimonji is protective of Luffy, loyal as Zoro and while she also wants to kill anyone who harms their captain she’ll wait until Luffy is out of harms way before demanding blood

The crew quickly gets between the crowd and their captain. Chopper quickly realizing the Luffy’s been poisoned.

Robin demands the antidote, already holding several of the leaders with her devil fruit ability. But the leaders laugh and tell them that there isn’t one. Why would they give him something with an antidote when they were trying to free Nika.

The crew starts to spiral at the first part, there has to be a cure! But then the second phrase registers. What do they mean free Nika?

Jinbei asks, more demands an answer. He can hear Luffy’s struggling gasps getting weaker and weaker and the whole crew is ready to burn the island down if they stop.

The leader smiles and goes on a tangent about how they have waited for Nika and they know he resides with in their captain. And that their prophecy says that to free Nika they need to kill his host.

Right now Nika is suppressed by his hosts consciousness but if the host life is put in danger, if he is about to die Nika will come forward and keep the body alive. They want to bring Nika forward. If they wounded Luffy then Nika would only stay in command until the wound healed. But an incurable poison. Nika will be in control for the rest of time. The sun god will return. And all it will cost is the life of their captain. They should be honored that they get to witness this glorious moment.

The strawhats are losing their minds. They can’t be serious. That’s not how devil fruits work. If they don’t give them the antidote right now they will all die!

Jinbei cuts through all the yelling and tells them they are wrong. He’s seen Luffy at deaths door before and Nika didn’t awaken.

But just as he finishes his sentence. Luffy’s body spasms and he goes rigid before his body goes lax and he fall deathly still. Zoro still has a hold of him and has to witness/feel the whole event as he called out “Luffy!” Alerting the rest of the crew.

For a moment everything is still. Then Luffy’s eyes snap back open but they are a different color. His hair turns stark white, his clothing changes as well. But it’s not like Wano. There is no laughter, no Joy. And isn’t it haunting to look at joyless Joyboy.

He rise up out of Zoro’s hold. He barly looks at his crew and when he does there is no warmth in his eyes.

This is a god that is furious at his host just being taken from him.

This is my base idea. From here I think I would have the crew go on a quest to find a cure for Luffy.

All the while Nika is standing there in Luffy’s place once they leave the island Nika is back to being Joyfull but it’s different from Luffy. They have to stop the god from running off (how do you contain freedom?) he’s laughing and bouncing around but he’s not Luffy. He knows all of them because Luffy thinks of them none stop but it’s that second degree of knowing someone, like meeting a friend of a friend. All of the warmth and love Luffy shows his crew is missing because Nika isn’t Luffy.

#one piece #monkey d. luffy #straw hat pirates #roronoa zoro #one piece zolu #zolu #nami #usopp #one piece brook #Jinbei #vinsmoke sanji #black leg sanji #sanji #nico robin #one piece franky #tony tony chopper #sun god nika #Nika cult au

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justauthoring · 5 months

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the bait.

zoro only wishes he'd gotten there earlier.

a/n: okay, so... listen, three things; i meant to write something for opla when it came out but of course, as usual, i'm late to everything :) (fashionably late???) second, i can't help it. i love protective!zoro :) and third, yes i will post the third part to naturally soon!

ALSO! i've never seen one piece (probably won't ever tbh) so this is strictly based off of the live action. if things aren't canon accurate to the anime, it's because it's not meant to be!

word count: 3,757

warnings: attempted sexual assault, creepy guy, also rushed ending

want to support your local writer? send me a coffee!

“Absolutely not.”

At least, that’s what he said.

No one had really bothered to listen to him regardless of the fact.

“Zoro,” you sigh, frowning at the nasty glare set on his face, harsh eyes set specifically on Nami as he faces her fully, arms crossed over his chest, seconds away from practically lunging at her (at least, it sure seemed that way – you knew, or hoped, he wouldn’t actually).

He doesn’t acknowledge you. Not at first. It takes you grabbing him by the crook of his elbow and tugging him to face you for his eyes to finally fall on you. Almost instantly, his gaze softens as you shake your head up at him.

“There’s no way I’m letting her use you as bait like that–”

“It wasn’t Nami’s idea, Zoro,” you huff, “it was mine.”

His lips part, hands falling to his side in disbelief. “What.”

“We need that treasure, yeah?” You ask, trying to appeal to his logical side. The rest of the crew is watching as well, and you know he’d rather not make a scene in front of all of them if he can help it. He’s not thinking all that rationally, though and you know that as well. The second the plan had left Nami’s lips, he’d cut her off with a harsh no that everyone had chosen to ignore at first. The second time he’d said the words, he’d been firmer, harsher, a cruel tone bleeding into his tone as he cut Nami off.

You needed him to understand that this wasn’t her idea and this certainly wasn’t her fault.

“Yeah,” he nods, shrugging, “but we can easily steal it another way–”

“Not unless you want all of the Marines after us in seconds–”

“We can handle them,” Zoro cuts Nami off, turning to her once again with a glare. “I can.”

Nami rolls her eyes; “the whole of the Marine’s?”

And his answer is blunt; “yeah.”

She scoffs.

Stepping in before the two of them actually fight, you opt for physically stepping in front of Zoro this time. “Listen, this was my plan, okay?” You try to placate, setting your hand on Zoro’s chest to hold him back. “Mine alone. I’m volunteering. When we scoped things out, he wouldn’t take his eyes off of me, right?” Zoro frowns at the recollection, and you’re quick to continue. “I'll distract him just while Nami quickly slips in. In and out, she grabs the treasure and the second she gives me the okay, I leave, right?”

You turn to Nami, smiling at her.

“Yup,” she nods, leaning against the table where her map lays of the restaurant the heist would be taking place in. “In, out. I’m quick. I wouldn’t do this if I thought Y/N was in any danger.”

Turning back to Zoro, you nod; “see?”

“Besides,” Sanji speaks up, shrugging his shoulders. “The rest of us will be keeping an eye just in case.”

“Yeah!” Luffy calls out, grinning widely at Zoro who stares back at him unimpressed. “We won’t let anything happen to Y/N! I promise.”

Zoro doesn’t say anything at first. His eyes drift from Luffy, across the crew, Nami and then finally you. He can tell that no matter how much he argues, none of them are going to budge–and Nami had a point. He knew that the crew would never intentionally ever put you in any danger.

Not to mention you… he could tell this was important to you. Helping the crew like this.

“Fine,” he huffs, ignoring the tightness in his chest as he meets your gaze. “But the second something goes wrong, mission or not, I’m–”

“Stepping in,” Nami finishes for him, sending a smirk Zoro’s way as she rolls her eyes. “I’d expect nothing less.”

And that settles that. A moment later and Nami is finishing the plan, you lean in to listen intently to her words as Zoro watches from behind you, eyes drifting across you. It wasn’t that he didn’t have faith in your abilities, but it was the premise of the entire idea. Zoro didn’t need to know the man they were trying to steal from to know he was a sleazebag–the guy practically oozed it and a single glance at him at Zoro feeling disgusted.

To know that you’d have to be batting your eyes at a man like that?

It made him feel sick.

It didn’t help that you were exceptionally skilled at it, though.

Sanji’s kept a very close eye on him since the entire operation began, never drifting too far in fear that Zoro might lunge forward at any given second. If the cook was being honest, he wasn’t all that comfortable with what was happening either (a gentleman like himself, of course) but he also knew how crucial this mission was and he didn’t want to put Nami in any unnecessary danger either.

So, he stuck to the plan and tried to make sure Zoro did too.

God, why’d he always have to get stuck with the mosshead?

“I must say, you look rather… fetching tonight, my dear.”

Forcing a smile on your lips, you turn your head towards the man, batting your eyelashes prettily as you brush a strand of ruly hair behind your ear. You play the part of bashful well, even though you feel sick to the stomach at the man’s rather… gross flirts.

“Why, thank you Mr. Becker,” you smile back at him, letting your weight fall against the side of the counter of the bar. When the mission had started, you’d come here first, remembering that Nami had told you that your target often spent his free time at the bar, drinking himself to a stupor and preying on whatever poor girl had caught his eye that night. Of course, tonight you were his prey and you had every intention of making sure that by the end of the night, this man would prey.

It was the main reason why you’d been so okay with offering yourself up as bait. Never in a million years would you allow your body to be used like this, but this man was notorious for trapping young rich women, lying to them with pretty words and hopeful promises, until he forced himself on them and stole every pretty penny off of them. The Strawhat’s goal was to get the treasure for yourselves, but your main goal was to teach this man a lesson.

You could see why so many women fell for his tricks. Despite being older, he was handsome–though the admission felt sour on your tongue–and he was exceptionally charming. Or, rather, he would be if you didn’t know the truth. An hour of his charms and flirts and you’re already feeling exhausted from his games, knowing that this is just what he does… makes a woman feel special and beautiful, only to use them for sex and steal every bit of their money right off of them. He had a big enough name that no one believed these women, but you? You did.

“Please,” he admonishes, “call me Rinano.”

You beam, “thank you, Rinano,” you correct, making sure to say his sultry tone, shifting your body so that you’re facing him. The dress Nami had found for you certainly was beautiful, you only wished you’d gotten to wear it on better terms. A floor length, black, silk dress that hugged you in all the right places, with a rather tempting slit that ran quite high on your leg and a neckline that dipped low enough to have anyone’s eyes glancing at it.

You know the second the words leave your lips, the words go straight to the man’s penis. His eyes bulge faintly, and this dazed look washes over his eyes as his eyes dip lower, just briefly, taking in the view of your chest.

You ignore the shiver that threatens to run up your spine.

“Please, Y/N, I think it’s time we moved this somewhere else, no?” He offers, eyes finally falling back on your own as he extends a hand out towards you. “Somewhere… a little more private?”

You mull on the decision briefly. It wasn’t part of your plan to go anywhere private with the man, knowing that this is how he lures women into his trap… but Nami still wasn’t done. Or, at least, she hadn’t given the signal. And you didn’t want to risk her or the mission…

Letting a smile curl on your lips, you set your hand in his.

“I’d love to.”

He grins, shifting to lead you through the crowd. You chance a glance back towards where you know Zoro is, but it’d gotten a lot busier since you’d come in and you can’t make him out in the crowd. Your chest tightens with worry, but you try to shake it off. You know Zoro would never let his eyes off of you, and you know the rest of your crewmates wouldn’t ever let you be in any danger either. You’re sure, even if you can't see him, that Zoro knows where you are.

“Hey man, you got a light?”

A frown curls onto Zoro’s lips when suddenly there’s a group of men standing around him, effectively blocking off his view of you. His body tenses as he glances at the three men, noticing for the first time just how busy it's gotten in the restaurant–Zoro and the rest of them had already had to make sure there was enough distance between you and them so as not to blow your cover. Zoro, though he argued against it, was forced to stand near the entrance of the restaurant, a good distance away from the bar and where you were, but it had been fine because Zoro had still been able to see you.

Now though? Especially with these idiots standing in front of him? He couldn’t see you at all.

A quick glance to the left and Zoro realizes he’s been separated from Sanji somehow as well.

Shit.

“Excuse me,” one of the men cuts in, taking a step towards Zoro. “We asked you a question.”

“No,” Zoro answers bluntly, glaring at the men as he tries to shove his way through.

“Are you sure?” Another one asks, the one holding a cigarette in his hands, a frown on his lips but as Zoro’s eyes flicker to him, he notices a glint in the man's eyes. “I forgot one at home and I’ve just been dying for a smoke–”

“I don’t have one,” Zoro grounds out, “get out of my way.”

The third one steps in front of him, hands held by his sides as he laughs; “hey, man… we’re just talking here. No reason to get mad.”

Zoro glares at him.

“I mean…” the one holding the cigar speaks up, “it’s not like you’re looking for someone, is it?”

Panic sets in then. By the smirks on their faces, Zoro comes to the startling realization that these men aren’t just annoying but that they must be Rinano’s men and they’re fully aware of who Zoro is and what he’s here for. And if they knew, then…

Zoro doesn’t hesitate, his right hand falls on his swords before striking his leg out towards the man to his left, knocking him up the chin and effectively knocking him on his ass. Instantly, a chaos of panic ensues as Zoro fights the other two, screams from other people in the restaurant but Zoro pays no mind to them. Rinano’s men are exceptionally weak that it barely takes Zoro anything to knock them down, and his eyes instantly shoot towards the bar the second he can, only for his heart to fall the pit of his stomach when he realizes you’re no longer there.

“Zoro!”

It’s Sanji who’s calling out for him, racing towards him through the panicked crowd and he’s slightly out of breath when he reaches him. Sanji’s eyes fall on the three men on their backs around Zoro and sighs; “so, they know.”

“Y/N’s not at the bar.”

Sanji’s eyes widen, head snapping towards the bar before he curses. “They knew who I was, tried to corner me like you. We should find Luffy and Usopp–”

“There’s no time.” Zoro cuts in, shaking his head. “You go. I’m finding Y/N.”

Zoro is pushing his way through the crowd before Sanji can say otherwise, leaving the cook to let out a huff.

The door slams behind you the second you step through, causing you to jolt slightly in reaction. When you turn your head over to glance, Rinano is simply smiling in your direction, stepping past you and further into what you assume is his ensuite above the restaurant. You hadn’t really known where you expected Rinano to lead you, but you figured it made sense he’d have a room above the restaurant he owned–it was, after all, easily accessible for the women he’d lead from the bar.

You’re quiet, scoping the room as Rinano pulls out two wine glasses at the bar located on the far end of the room. His back is turned to you as he prepares the glasses, and you shrug, using the time to see if you can find anything; Nami had snuck into the vault you knew was in the basement but you figured there might be something worth taking in here.

“For you.”

Blinking, you turn back to Rinano, smiling faintly as you accept the glass from him and take a seat right by the bar. Rinano takes a seat across from you, swirling the wine around in his cup, eyes on you as you take a slow sip of the wine. You weren’t a big drinker and you’d been careful to monitor your intake throughout the night, not wanting to be tipsy while with a man like Rinano–but one drink wouldn’t hurt. Plus, you needed the courage to steal your nerves.

It was a whole new ballgame being alone with him like this.

Honestly, you still weren’t really sure what you were doing. You just hadn’t wanted to put Nami in any danger and tip him off at all…

“You know,” Rinano says, and your eyes fall on him, head tilting in curiosity. “I didn’t think I’d see you again.”

Letting out a light laugh, you shrug; “well, the food here was delicious.”

“Ah, yes, I know.” You resist the urge to roll your eyes–smug asshole. “But, if I remember correctly, you hadn’t come alone last time, right?”

Body tensing, you take another sip of your wine. “Ah, no,” you nod, setting the wine glass down as you fix the strap of your dress. “No, I came with two friends before.”

“Yes, a boy with an odd straw hat and a man with green-hair and three swords.” Rinano recalls, and your eyes squint–what was he getting at? “If I remember correctly, the green-haired man made quite a fuss about being allowed to keep his… weapons on him.”

You blink. You… hadn’t known Rinano had been watching all of that.

“Yes, well, he’s very protective of them,” you explain, leaning against the back of the seat when you feel your vision blur for a moment, head spinning momentarily.

“It’s also odd, you see,” Rinano continues, leaning forward, arms resting on his knees as he stares back at you, gaze intensely on your own. He’s waiting, you realize–watching you, more like it. Why, you’re not sure. “I could’ve sworn I saw a similar looking man watching us from the entrance all night. He seemed particularly keen on keeping his eyes on you.”

You feel your breath quicken, and somehow, you can’t explain it, your hands are shaking. Your whole body feels like it’s shaking, actually.

“The two of you seemed close that first night you came in,” Rinano continued. “I’d tried to catch your attention that entire night, but you hadn’t seemed to care when he was next to you. And him on the other hand… he’d glared at me the entire night for even looking at you. I wonder why, then… you were at my bar tonight, batting your eyelashes at me with your tits out on display?”

You stare back at him, noticing the anger and glint in his eyes as he stares back at you. Something uncomfortable twists in your chest and you’re moving to stand before you even realize. “I… I think it’s time I–” but your words get cut off as you feel your world spin. You’d stood up, you know that, but you find yourself on your back, staring up at the ceiling and your body won’t respond to you despite how hard you try to make it.

Then, Rinano is in front of you, leering over you.

“I’m afraid that won’t be possible,” he smiles down at you, “you enjoyed the wine more than I expected.”

Your eyes widen, blinking as you feel your body slipping.

“You–you asshole!” you cry, forcing the words out but they’re more slurred than anything. Rinano just laughs, and then his hands are on you, grabbing you by the waist as he moves to pick you up. You use every last bit of strength in your body to push him off, forcing your legs to work as you move to stand but you make it one step before you’re crashing to the ground, hitting it with a hard thud that has your breath leaving you for a moment.

In a flash, you’re flipped around, Rinano over top of you.

“I imagine you thought you’d come in here, get your money’s worth and rob me blind, yes?” Rinano grins down at you, and your body refuses to move even as his hand moves to the strap of your dress, pulling it down. “But you see, Y/N, that’s not how this works. Women are simple creatures and all it takes is a pretty smile and they’ll bend over backwards for men like me. Usually, I like to pick women who have something more than just their bodies to offer me, but… well, you really did catch my eye that night.”

The strap of your dress is yanked off, while his free hand hikes the skirt of your dress up, revealing your panties and bra. Your mind screams at you to do something, but your body refuses to listen. You can feel your heart pounding madly against your chest, but nothing happens.

“St–stop!” you cry, tears welling in your eyes as you feel his hands lift you, moving to the zipper of your dress. “Get off me! Stop!” but your words are slurred as your lips begin to fail you as well. The sob that wretches past your lips is piercing as you hear the familiar sound of a zipper, feeling a cold brush against your back before the carpet of the floor scratches against your bare skin.

Rinano leers above you, eyes dazed as he moves to pull your dress off.

“You really are magnificent,” he whispers, “maybe I’ll just keep you around… you’ll be my own personal treasure.”

Your head lolls to the left, feeling his hands drift across your bare stomach as tears stream down your cheeks.

Where… where was Zoro?

You wanted Zoro.

But in the back of your mind, you knew that if Rinano had known about you, he’d known about the rest of them as well.

You feel Rinano’s fingers slip under the band of your panties when the door slams open. You can’t turn to see who it is, but the sight of it is enough to have Rinano’s eyes widening, panic flooding his vision before suddenly his weight is knocked off of you and you see a familiar flash of green blur past you before a cry echoes across the room. There’s the distinct sound of someone choking, gasping for breath, but you can’t turn and see and you’re left there, exposed and vulnerable, sobs wracking your body, until a shadow falls over you.

Zoro is suddenly there. His wide eyes are on you, panic flooding his gaze as he pulls you into his arms, pulling your dress up and back on as he zips the back of it for you. You’re limp in his grasp and you want to say something, force your mouth to move, but you can’t. All you can do is stare back at him as he pulls you into his arms.

“It’s okay,” he whispers and it’s the softest you’ve ever heard him sound. “I’ve got you. You’re okay.”

Nami had profusely apologized but you’d only brushed her off.

It seemed Rinano’s one mistake was he hadn’t known about Nami so everything on her end had been successful. For that, you were grateful. It wasn’t all for nothing.

The rest of the boys had come to check up on you as well the next day, clearly each worried but you’d brushed all their concerns off. It wasn’t any of their faults. It was yours… and you wouldn’t let them take the blame.

It takes a whole day before Zoro finally checks up on you.

He’s eerily quiet as he steps into the room. It’s late at night but Nami wasn’t here yet… by the look on Zoro’s face, you figure he’d asked her to hang back a minute, give you two some privacy.

You watch him, a frown on his lips as he takes a seat next to your small cot.

Then, after a minute, you speak up; “I'm sorry.”

And his eyes widen, head snapping to you in disbelief.

You just shake your head, a sob breaking past your lips as you curl into yourself. “I'm so sorry. This is all my fault. It was my idea and you could’ve gotten hurt because of me–”

Zoro cuts you off by setting his hand on your own, squeezing. Your eyes fall on him, lips left parted, sniffling. “This isn’t your fault,” he mumbles. “I came in here with every intention of telling you to never do that again… to never use you as bait but… but that wouldn’t be fair of me. And I’m not here to make you feel worse.”

Your lip trembles. “I… I didn’t think that’d happen,” you whisper, staring down at your entwined hands. “I… I was so scared.”

Shaking his head, Zoro leans forward, “I wouldn’t ever let anything like that happen to you. I’m just… sorry it got that far.”

You squeeze his hand back, “it’s okay. You came. That’s all that matters to me.”

#one piece #one piece x reader #one piece live action #opla #opla x reader #zoro roronoa #zoro roronoa x reader #opla!zoro x reader #opla!zoro #opla!zoro roronoa

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rainybyday · 1 year

Text

Flower au Pt3 going to Pt4 (wow didn’t expect that to be honest)

Danny learned that just like a ghost, Liminals are also affected by the rules of ‘tokens’ and ‘gifts’.

He first tested it out with Danielle since he needed to see if a token can work on a Halfa. Ellie is a good start since not only is she a Halfa, but that she is also a clone of him, hence, what affects her should affect him and potently Vlad.

It did, in fact, work.

He never saw Ellie look at something in so much adoration that he couldn’t help himself but to wrap his arms around her and squeeze.

He was even more surprised when she snuggled into him instead of playfully trying to get out of his hug-attack. The rest of the day was for them to run and play with Ellie somehow acting much more like a child then a girl who had her life ripped away.

He debated himself for a while, but he decided he had nothing to lose and walked his way to the mayor's house.

It took six hours to finally leave after the Fruit Loop went ecstatic with pride and joy, smothering him and thanking him every single minute for the flower he gave him. Good thing to know a Halfa, is indeed, affect by the flowers as well.

(On the bright side, he didn’t mention his mom even once!)

So with that over and done, Danny took in a deep breath and walked into his sister's room with a large bundle of white, yellow, peach and pink roses.

(White roses for purity and innocence. Yellow for joy and friendship. Peach for appreciation and gratitude. Pink for appreciation and perfect happiness.)

Danny was a little scared, he must admit when he approached Jazz with the boutique. He was constantly fidgeting and debating with himself over what he can give Jazz his sister his everything.

But in the end, he walked through the doors of her room and handed her the flowers.

Perhaps it was because he was a Halfa or maybe it's because of Jazz being Liminal. Maybe it was because they are siblings or perhaps because the flowers, he gave her mean something rather than just a thoughtless experiment.

He didn’t know, but he didn’t care. Not when Jazz was holding him in so much adoration, like he was fragile and safe and warm, like he was something worthy to be protected. Like he was worthy of her love and that she loved him back as her little kid brother. Nothing mattered, nothing but the waves of I-love-you-I-love-you-so-so-much-my-brother as he hugged her just as tightly back.

(And if they both end up crying and laughing and curling against each other watching movies on Jazz’s laptop then no one needs to mention that. It was their moment and only they will treasure that time together.)

(His core thrilled when Jazz asked how she can dry her flowers to preserve her gift.)

---------------------------------------------------

Danny would sometimes wonder through his memories as he greets the man, now regular customer, Jason. Jason himself was an enigma which he helped to protect and heal to grain Gotham’s favor, but now was a person he truly genuinely wants to help.

Jason likes to read, and Danny was thankful that he had such a hobby or else he would never get him to stay for hours on end in his haunt in order to cleanse him. He was truly happy to help the man that was under Gotham’s protection.

It was just that, ever since Jason’s brothers, the trio of boys that came in that one day, he started to see them come him with him more often.

Not every time mind you but enough times for Danny to know that he would have to get use their presences.

Sometimes he comes in with the youngest, mostly on weekends, with his sharpe tounge and street animals tucked in his arms. Sometimes its the second youngest with a cup of coffee and a laptop at hand. Sometimes its the eldest with his bright cheery smile and chatting on endlessly.

Danny watch and smiles as the bond between the four grow stronger and tighter every day.

But as he does, he thought back at a time him which made him the most warmth he had ever felt and made a plan.

It started with the second youngest since he sometimes drags behind Jason with the lack of sleep clear in his eyes. Once Jason was out the door for the day and the younger brother was slowly tripping his way down the steps, Danny helped him down and handed him a flower.

A white Heather.

(A Heather that means admiration, beauty and solitude, but a white Heather means protection from danger and that their wish will come true.)

Danny said that this was a gift for the brother to give to Jason, a gift that he would gift back.

The second youngest looked at the flower like he never seen it before making Danny having the urge to laugh. When he finally took the flower, hesitantly so, he thanked him and walked out his store.

When Danny went out to make his rounds that night he paused at Jason’s grave, laughed, and skipped him for the night.

Jason started to drag the second youngest more often these days to be with him.

The second one was the youngest of the four brothers. Though he may seem rude and sharp in his approach Danny could still sense waves of protect-idiot-brother-watch-protect-unruly from the ectoplasm that the boy was exposed to. Though he was almost the same in amounts to Jason it was much more tamed and calmer.

(He once whispered to Gotham why the little one was walking by Death so much. Gotham replied in anger and rage about how the boy was not born in her lands and that someone kept him away from her to protect.

He watched over the little one a lot more after that.)

The youngest was hard to get alone when Jason likes to stick with him a lot more often than not. It took a while to get him alone, but he managed to do so when he asked Damian about the animal he brought in that day as the store was closing. By the time the young one was done, Jason was waiting at the store front with his back turned towards them.

(In the back of his mind, Danny couldn’t help but be proud of the fact that the Jason trusted him enough to leave him with his kid brother without having to watch him.)

Quickly as he can, Danny gave the young one a Poppy to give to his brother.

(Poppies as a taboo with many meanings. Great scarifies. Remembrance. Honnor.)

(But sometimes they can also mean strong everlasting familiar bonds.)

The young one gave him a glare and asked why but Danny only deflect by saying that this was once again, a gift for Jason from the young one.

After a bit more debating and insults the young one huffed and left with the flower at hand.

(Once again Danny smiled softly at the purity from Jason’s grave and walked right by.)

Then it was the eldest turn to give him a flower.

The eldest was the easiest to get along but sometime the hardest to understand. He doesn’t know what to make of the man, but he seen the bond between him and Jason and left it at that. It was far easier to get the man alone and give him the flower. What he wished though, was for the man to not think it was a gift to woo Jason but instead a gesture of kindness for the man himself.

Yet still, Danny handed the man a small bundle of Lilies of the Vally.

(Though they mean purity, they also mean “I’m sorry”)

Danny could only watch the man leave and sighed.

That night, Jason’s grave felt weaker. Danny thought that maybe it was the wrong time to give the flower, but he notices something. His grave was not weaker, it was being protected and safely tucked away from everything around it. Danny breath shakily and walked away.

(It seems that that one was the hardest out of the three.)

(Yet he could still feel something tried and dark from the grave.)

Danny didn’t know what it meant until he saw a man over Jason’s grave again.

The same man he notices the first few weeks he did his rounds.

The man who leads him to Jason in a way.

The man connected with the Jason was the last bit of the puzzle.

So, Danny breathed and walked towards the one Jason missed the most.

Part 5 is a given now at this point: Pt 5 of flower au

Tags: @wisteriavines @plainly-colorful @britcision @justgray15777 @lady-time-lord- @blu-lilac @wisebouquettree @rosiea184 @chaoticmistake @mlpizza @kyrianclawraith @adorswan @crystalizedirongoblin @serasvictoria02 @passivedecept

#dp x dc #dc x dp #Danny Phantom #danny fenton #Damian Wayne #Jason Todd #dick grayson #Tim Drake #batman #jazz fenton #danielle phantom #Vlad Masters #bruce wayne #flowerrs #flower shop #flower shop au

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thesithdiaries · 2 years

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Monster (Aemond Targaryen imagine)

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x female Strong!reader

Requested: Yes, but @astraljedi and I modified it a lil

Warnings: angst, cursing, lets say rhaenyra and laenor get married two years earlier than in the show (everything else is the same), im trying to make this timeline make sense, spoilers for episode 6, 7 and 8, aemond channeling his inner daemon, typical westeros violence, awkward dinner, very telenovela fight after the dinner A/N + additional warnings: i normally try to avoid this but i will be mentioning hair descriptions in this. sorry about that

Aemond was hugging his mother, resting his head on her shoulder. He had just lost an eye but he gained the biggest dragon in Westeros.

He watched as his betrothed, Y/N Velaryon, held onto her younger brothers. Many years ago, Alicent had agreed to an arranged marriage, all because Viserys thought it would be a good idea. Aemond always got along with Y/N, she was the only one that did not antagonize him for not having a dragon. He did expect her to take his side and comfort him, but he was a fool to think that.

“This marriage,” Alicent started, pointing at her son and Y/N, “is off. I do not want your daughter near my son.” Rhaenyra smirked as she was walking away from the hall. After what had happened in the past weeks, she also did not want her daughter with Aemond.

Six years later

Y/N sat in the gardens with her younger brothers Joffrey, Aegon, and Viserys. She was reading to them but they fell asleep. Life at Dragonstone had been peaceful, being away from King’s Landing was the best for everyone, especially after what happened after Laena’s funeral.

Part of her wishes to be in Harrenhal with her brothers, looking after their father’s castle. Harwin's death was devastating for her. Rhaenyra and Laenor got married sooner than expected, after the news that she was with child. Everything was perfect until Y/N was born without silver hair. They tried to dismiss it, claiming it was because of Princess Rhaenys’ mother. The speculations about who their real father was were growing more as Rhaenyra gave birth to three boys, all with dark hair. Y/N found out at a very young age that Harwin was her father. He always treated her differently, and part of her knew it was not because she was a girl. Rhaenyra had no other choice but to admit it, knowing her daughter was stubborn and would not drop the matter.

Ser Harwin knew he could not act like a father in public, yet that did not stop him from treating Y/N well. He would give in to her many child-like demands, which consisted mostly of getting savory cakes and being carried around. He would also give her a single flower whenever they were alone during their walks along the Red Keep. Harwin would say “Here you go, Princess,” as he placed it on her hair. Y/N kept all of them in a small jewelry chest, along with many other gifts he gave her through the years. She treasured them all.

Daemon was quietly approaching her after noticing the three young boys laying around her. “Darling,” he whispered. Y/N carefully got up, trying to not disturb them. Daemon grabbed her hand and pulled her away.

“What is it, father? Did something happen?” She asked, noticing he had a worried expression.

“We have to return to King’s Landing.”

“Why?” Y/N sighed with annoyance.

“Y/N,” Daemon warned, causing her to roll her eyes. “Vaemond has decided he wants the Driftmark throne. By doing this, he will also bring up Lucerys’ legitimacy.”

“What about grandfather? Can he do something about it?” Daemon shook his head.

“The greens are the ones making the decisions,” he pointed out. “We need to be there and prevent Vaemond from taking what he wants.”

Y/N nodded, now scared at the possible outcome. Daemon noticed immediately, caressing her face as he gave her a reassuring smile. “It will go our way, I promise.”

Every fear Y/N had was solidified the second they arrived at the Red Keep and nobody was there to greet them. Her parents went to see the King, while she went to the training yard with Jace and Luke, who was getting nervous from all the stares they were receiving.

“What’s your problem?” Jace asked him while looking at all the weapons that they had for training.

“Everyone's staring at us,” Luke replied, fidgeting.

“So?” Y/N scoffed.

“No one would question me being heir to Driftmark... if... if I looked more like Ser Laenor Velaryon than Ser Harwin Strong.” Y/N stared at him in disappointment. She understood what he felt and how Vaemond’s claims made all of them look yet that did not make her feel less sad.

“It doesn't matter what they think.” Jace reminded him before Y/N could say anything.

Their conversation was interrupted by the cheering crowd behind them. As they approached in curiosity, they saw Ser Criston fighting with a man with long silver hair. In all honesty, it was impressive.

“Well done, my Prince,” Criston congratulated him. “You'll be winning tourneys in no time.”

“I don't give a shit about tourneys.” The man turned around to face them, it was Aemond. Y/N felt Luke grabbing her hand, it was something he did when he was very nervous. “Nephews, niece... have you come to train?”

Aemond was staring at her, she was more beautiful than he remembered. Y/N was avoiding his gaze, making him smirk. If only things had gone their way, they would have been married at this moment. They could have been happy.

The air in the throne room felt tense.

“I hereby reaffirm Prince Lucerys of House Velaryon as heir to Driftmark, the Driftwood Throne, and the next Lord of the Tides.” The King had appeared, surprising everyone. Y/N smiled at her grandfather’s strength, she knew he was in so much pain but he loved his daughter and his grandchildren. “And, in addition, I declare that Prince Aemond and Princess Y/N are still betrothed and will be wed before the next full moon.”

Y/N felt her heart drop to her stomach. Daemon and Rhaenyra looked at her with worry. They knew what Aemond had become, they knew what he was capable of. On the other side of the throne room, the Prince’s chest filled with pride at the King’s command. He gazed over at his future wife, who was also looking his way. Her expression was unreadable, he did not know if she felt happy or sad. They were both so concentrated on each other that a yell from Vaemond Velaryon snapped them out of their thoughts.

“Her children are bastards!” Y/N held onto Jace’s arm, knowing that he was capable of throwing himself on top of Vaemond to beat him. “And she... is... a whοre.”

The crowd behind them gasped. This was the highest of treasons and he said it all in front of the king. “I... will have your tongue for that.” Viserys threatened him, but Daemon had other plans.

He sliced off his head with Darksister. Y/N flinched, hiding her head on Jace’s shoulder. “He can keep his tongue.”

Aemond looked for Y/N, only to see Jace shielding her from the graphic scene in front of them. He had his arms protectively around her, despite knowing Daemon would never hurt them. He felt his blood boil. If anyone should be comforting her during a moment like this, it should be him, not her bastard brother.

Viserys had requested to have a family dinner.

Y/N entered the dining room behind her parents. Alicent and her children were already there, waiting for them.

“Y/N, dear, you can sit here.” The Queen called for her. There was a seat next to Aemond’s. Y/N flashed a look of absolute fear to her father before walking towards them. Aemond was once again staring at her every move. She sat next to him quietly. Helaena grabbed her hand, giving her a reassuring squeeze. Lucerys was right at the other end of the table with Rhaena. They both smiled at her as if to say everything would be alright.

“You look beautiful,” Aemond whispered in her ear. Y/N finally turned her head towards him, flashing a quick smile. He hummed at her shy behavior.

Y/N was not focusing on what was being said during the toasts. The fear she had felt the previous day was returning. She still did not understand why Viserys wanted her to marry Aemond, he knew why it was called off. However, she did not hold it against him, she knew he was very sick. She would do this for him, as a final wish.

A hard bang on the table made her flinch. Jace had stood up in anger, trying to control himself. Aemond also stood up, daring him to do something. He gave a toast in honor of his uncles. Luke was biting his cheek to hold back his laugh, all the memories of them being children filling his mind.

Helaena stood up next. “I would like to toast to Baela and Rhaena. They'll be married soon. It isn't so bad. Mostly he just ignores you... except sometimes when he's drunk.”

Y/N’s eyes widened at what she said. She felt pity for her, Helaena was kind and she did not deserve to be married to Aegon. He was not a good man. Aemond was carefully studying Y/N. Her expressions, her movements, the subtle shake of her hand when she reached for her cup. It had been so long since he saw her last and he wanted to make up for the lost time.

Jace stood up again, asking Helaena to dance with him. Y/N smirked at Aegon’s expression, but it quickly dropped when he glanced her way to lock eyes with Aemond. Luke was next to her out of nowhere, grabbing her hand. As they danced, Aemond felt the anger rising in him again. Seeing Y/N dancing with the same boy that took his eye was driving him mad.

A servant sat a cooked pig right next to Aemond. Luke was giggling quietly at this.

Aemond hit the table before standing up. "Final tribute. To the health of my nephews: Jace... Luke... and Joffrey. Each of them handsome, wise... hm... strong. Come, let us drain our cups to these three... Strong boys.” The room fell quiet after this.

“I dare you to say that again,” Jace threatened him.

“Why? 'Twas only a compliment. Do you not think yourself Strong?”

A hard slap echoed through the room. Y/N stood directly in front of Aemond, her body was shaking with fury. He stared at her in disbelief but before he could even move, Jace was in front of her. She held his gaze over her brother’s shoulder.

“Wait, wait!” Daemon warned, softly pushing his children away.

“Go to your quarters. All of you go, now.” Rhaenyra ordered.

They all walked out, Y/N getting ahead of her siblings, not wanting to speak about what had happened. Aemond had followed them out, quickly spotting her in the distance. He took a shortcut, appearing right in front of her in another corridor.

Y/N scoffed, attempting to walk around him but he grabbed her forearm tightly. “Let go.”

“No,” he retorted. “How dare you hit me, in front of everyone.”

“You know why I did it, Aemond,” Y/N hissed, still struggling to get away from his grip.

“I was speaking about them,” he told her.

“You insulted them, and me,” Y/N corrected him. “Whatever insult you throw their way still includes me.”

Aemond stammered, he truly did not wish to include her. “That was not my purpose.”

“No? And what was it? Just antagonize my brothers for fun, as revenge for what happened years ago? I still remember what you said to Luke, how he would die screaming in flames just as our father.”

He just stood there, bewildered, without saying a word. He still remembered that night perfectly, the look on her face when he said that. Y/N kept trying to remove his hand but he had other plans. Aemond grabbed her other forearm, leaving her completely at his mercy.

“Let me go,” she ordered him again. He scoffed, shaking his head.

“You are to be my wife, you will listen to me.”

“Aemond, I will only do it for the King. If he wasn't the one asking, I would be on a ship to get away from you,” Y/N confessed.

He finally let her go. Her confession stung, the Y/N he remembered would not have said that to him. Aemond did want to marry her, but the feelings he felt when he was a child had not changed. They stared at each other, no words being said.

Y/N started walking away. Her steps echo through the corridor. Her thoughts wandered, thinking about what could have been of their life if that night at Driftmark had not played out the way it did. Would they be happy right now? As she turned a corner, she looked back. Aemond stood in the same spot, he had not moved. He stared at the ground in disbelief, still replaying the conversation in his head. He truly felt like a fool for saying those things in front of her.

#hotd imagine #hotd fanfic #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen x reader

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blakeswritingimagines · 1 year

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When you fall asleep on their shoulder

Eddie:

It's cute that you're comfortable enough with him to sleep. He'd wake you up gently with a hand to your side holding you close and a soft smile, gives you a little kiss on the cheek to let you know he's here. It's sweet, and kind of adorable, even if it's a little funny to see.

Oh, he would never even try to wake you up. Maybe a little bit of noise but not a lot at all but can't help moving around or practically squealing with happiness and he would never wake you up because of the way you are just laying on him it’s so adorable and he loves the feeling of your head on his chest it makes his heart feel so fuzzy.

It gives him a rush. He feels like he's needed, that he's important to somebody, and that he matters to someone that's not his uncle. It gives him butterflies because he feels so cared for and he feels so special. He'll want to mess with you but just chooses to tease heavily once you wake up and never lets it go and will joke that he's the best body pillow when he notices your tired.

Gareth:

His reaction to that would be pretty much shock, considering he's never been in a romantic situation before. If you fell asleep on him he kinda freezes not sure what to do, he'd be pretty flustered and taken aback. So in that case, I guess he'd probably just sit there and let you nap on his shoulder because it's really cute to him.

Oh, absolutely teases you for it. You'll just wake up and look all confused, and then figure out what happened, and likes to see you get all blushy and embarrassed. It's adorable. And yes, he might give you a little kiss just to make the blush bigger.

He finds it very cute and sweet it is a great sign of trust in a relationship that you feel comfortable enough to fall asleep on him and that’s very special and something to treasure.

Steve:

When you fall asleep on his shoulder it makes him really happy, he just wants to hold you forever. It’s so peaceful, it just makes him feel so loved and wanted. He loves being able to comfort you and support you, and feeling you trust him enough to fall asleep on his shoulder makes him feel special and precious. It’s his favorite thing in the whole world.

Well, it’s quite sweet it shows trust and comfort on your part. Which makes him feel happy and he’d probably gently carry you to the bedroom in this particular scenario and tuck you in to make sure your nice and snug.

You falling asleep on him is one of his favorite feelings. It's warm and comforting, and it lets him know that you feel safe with him. It's a beautiful thing that makes him feel needed. It's also incredibly precious and sweet to see someone you care for so much in that vulnerable state, and it's something that I always take the time to appreciate whenever it happens.

Robin:

She thinks it's adorable. It makes her happy because it's one of the best feelings, knowing that you are comfortable enough around her to sleep in her embrace. She feels honored And… There's a small part of her that's amused because her partner is asleep and she gets to sit here and watch you.

Well, when you fall asleep on her shoulder, she gets this feeling of warmth that comes over her. It's a feeling of love and affection, and it makes her heart feel all tingly. She feels so special and unique when she knows you trust her enough to fall asleep on her shoulder.

Well, she'd probably poke you and say "Wake up! Are you asleep? You must have fallen asleep, doofus!" It's all in good fun though, and she's sure you would poke fun at her right back.

Nancy:

If you fall asleep on her shoulder she knows that's a special moment. It's a moment of trust, of security, of intimacy. She would gently run her fingers through your hair or up and down your back lightly and hold you close to her because she would want to remember every second of it. Every single second.

She would feel both touched and annoyed. Touched, because you clearly trust her enough to fall asleep in her presence and annoyed because you fell asleep mid-conversation. It’s a very odd mix of emotions. She would probably brush a lock of hair out of your face and let out a long breath.

It's the cutest thing and the most adorable thing ever, It makes her happy, it melts her heart, and it makes her entire day. It makes her feel like she is the only thing that matters in the world. Whenever this happens, she just wants to be super close to you. It's an amazing feeling that she hopes all couples can have. It really shows how comfortable you feel around her, and how much she means to you. It makes her feel so special.

Jonathan:

He thinks it's kinda sweet. I mean, there's not much he can do so he just tries to enjoy the moment, It's kinda nice to have someone trust you enough to fall asleep on your shoulder. He feels just how much you love him a lot if you can fall asleep on his shoulder, it makes him feel good that a person can be so comfortable around him.

If he sees you falling asleep he would probably tuck your hair behind your ear gently and hold you close to him while you sleep, if he moves or says something too loud he might wake you up and he doesn’t want you to be tired for the day so he will be absolutely silent the best that he can.

Gives you so much attention when you wake up and loves all over you not even giving you a chance to be embarrassed or shy about the fact that you fell asleep on him, does, in fact, check in with you more after that or lets you sleep on him again while he gets bullied by everyone for letting you use him like a personal pillow.

Argyle:

He is delighted when you fall asleep on his shoulder, it shows that you feel comfortable around him and are able to trust him. He feels safe and content when this happens, and it makes him feel even more connected to you.

At first, he's surprised because it’s a situation that he didn’t expect at all. But quickly he felt comfort. It’s a little comforting to know the other person trusts you with something so vulnerable. It’s like nothing else matters. But then somewhere in his brain kicks in and he starts to worry that you'll will start snoring.

Depends on the situation. if you've been through something then he'll hold you close and give you kisses while he lets you sleep if it's just because your sleepy he'd still hold you and let you sleep. You're the most important person in the world to him why wouldn't he?.

Billy:

He really wanted to be mad at you, he wants to shove you off and be like "Dude are you for real, I need to focus" But he can't, you're just so adorable, looking so peaceful. He just doesn't have the heart to move you or wake you up. It makes him feel weird and soft, but he won't lie there's something to it. It's nice. He'd give up a lot to have you do that more.

A little pissed at first, but then I start to find it kind of cute. You know he's not exactly a romantic kind of guy, but there's a part of him that likes the feeling that someone was comfortable enough around him to just fall asleep like that. It's sweet.

Oh, definitely, he'd sneak up on you and tickle your feet, or maybe tie your shoelaces together so you trip when you get up. He'd put some black makeup around his eyes it would be so much fun, maybe he'd draw a little mustache on your face with eyeliner or draw a funny picture on your forehead with a marker. Something like that. Just some mild, harmless fun to give himself a little laugh when you wake up.

Henry:

He's not an emotional person, but after all that has happened, a certain vulnerability arises when you trust him enough to sleep on him. He'd never admit it in front of an audience, but it would certainly be a wholesome feeling.

It's quite nice. The fact that you feel so close and comfortable with him that you'll fall asleep on his shoulder is a wonderful sign of trust and friendship. You've only done it once or twice, but it means so much to him, the fact that you trust him that much.

And to be honest, he wouldn't want to move for anything anyway, which makes it even better. He would just keep the moments like that, and let you sleep in peace, while he silently watches over you, and keeps you safe.

#eddie munson x reader #gareth emerson x reader #steve harrington x reader #robin buckley x reader #nancy wheeler x reader #jonathan byers x reader #argyle x reader #billy hargrove x reader #henry creel x reader #stranger things hc #stranger things headcanons #stranger things

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chuthulhu-reads · 10 months

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[ID: Five panels from Trigun Maximum. The background and borders are solid black instead of solid white. Before the first panel are speech bubbles saying, "Mama. Mama, look!" The second panel shows a small child pointing as his mother, a pretty woman with a kind smile, crouches next to him. In the second panel, the mother looks down at the child and says, "She's pretty, isn't she?" The little boy, still staring up, asks, "Why..." In the third panel, he looks up at his mother and continues, "...Is she in there?" In the fourth panel, the mother puts her hands on the kid's shoulders and looks up as she says, "She's... working." In the fifth panel, the mother smiles back down at her son as she says, "It's thanks to her that you, mama and papa can live here safely." The little boy looks confused. End ID.]

I WEEP over this flashback. They're introducing the plant to their child not as something weird or alien, but pretty. Not as a thing, but a person who's working, who's not just property of the community but a crucial member of it. In the next panels, the mother prompts her child to thank the plant in a way that looks both like a hyper-respectful Japanese bow and Christian prayer.

[ID: Three panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows the little boy pointing up with a big smile. Behind him, his mother is looking back over her shoulder at her husband, a smiling man in glasses. The little boy is saying, "Mama, look! She smiled!" The second panel shows the little boy still looking up and smiling as, behind him, his parents talk and laugh together. In the third panel, the boy is turning away and looking at his parents, saying, "See?" as the father smiles and waves and the mother looks surprised. After the last panel, there's black space, and a last speech bubble saying, "She smiled..." End ID.]

She smiled. She smiled at a child smiling at her. She smiled at a child who was alive because of her. She smiled at the people who loved her and prayed to her and thanked her. She treasured them enough to remember their smiles even after being fused into the horrendous amalgamation in the Ark.

[ID: Two panels from Trigun Maximum. The first shows Knives looking startled, wide-eyed and sweating, the left side of his face flaking somewhat. The second panel shows him standing on a walkway over a huge mass of fused plants, an uncomfortably fleshy mess of wings, veins, and random limbs. Knives is saying, "Was that..."]

LOOK at that. Knives himself knows he's at risk of losing his sense of self inside that mass, and Chronica later says that plants don't innately have an individual sense of self to begin with. Yet one of those plants remembered some of the humans she once supported fondly enough to cling to that memory, no matter what; or, perhaps, that memory was so beloved by every other plant that saw it that they all kept it, all shared it and held it close to their hearts, all that love battering against Knives' shaky mental walls of rage and hatred and fear.

[ID: A chaotic double-page spread from Trigun Maximum. The first four panels show a quick sequence of Knives falling to his knees and gasping as he clutches at his face, his eyes widening desperately. The next three panels are thin slices, each showing a larger and larger number of random people, like you're pulling out from a crowd that just keeps getting bigger. Despite how many people are crammed into each panel, artistic effort has been put into making each face unique and distinct from each other. The next face shows Knives' face literally cracking and splitting into a number of panels showing the Project Seeds ships, stars in space, the shooting-star image of the ships falling, a sun rising over ruined ships, and the elongated arms of a plant reaching out from among folded wings. A panel at the bottom of the page shows Knives screaming as it looks like the flesh is actually melting off of his face. The last panel shows Elendira running towards him, crying out, "Knives!" End ID.]

I really think, at the end of the day, the plants don't necessarily mind being relied on as producers, because I think they love life and creation. They've held onto all of these faces, all these people who were alive because of them. Short of the horror of the Last Runs, maybe they take pride in what they do. Maybe seeing other lives flourish from theirs makes them happy. We don't know for sure, but for all the body horror in their imagery, they are still, ultimately, evocative of angels. And they're reaching out to Knives with enough love for humanity to fracture the walls in his mind that he's put up against the reality of what the Big Fall was, against remembering that he did once love humans, and then he killed tens of millions of them. Being forced to see humans as Vash and the other plants do--as individuals, as living things, as people--is literally tearing him apart. God this page is a real artistic flex from Nightow, both in terms of panel composition and just thumbing his nose at mangaka that draw the same three faces forever

#Trigun #I love the plants so much #I think we can infer a lot by assuming that Vash (and Knives as a child) is pretty normal for a plant #Loving being around other living things #Loving helping other living things #Like yeah now Vash has a massive guilt complex #But he was always a kind kid #and Knives as a kid was LONGING to meet other people #My autistic ass feeling the longing to just be weird and do your own thing #but being extra happy when you can Do Thing for others that they appreciate #They're such eldritch sweethearts I love them so much

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veronicaphoenix · 1 month

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To drown your sadness in a sea song. ⋆｡𖦹 °.

Pairing: Noah Sebastian x mermaid!reader Parts: one - two - three - four - five - epilogue Trigger warnings: mental health issues; implied depression.

PART ONE — THE KISS | Words: 1.3k

He’s heard tales about creatures like her before. He’s certain his grandma used to read books about them to him as a child. Mermaids. He doesn’t remember much, though. He doesn’t know what to say or what to do. He just stares at her.

Her face is heart-shaped. She’s got long hair cascading over a bare torso. Her lips are thin and pink, her eyes vast and blue as the ocean itself. Tiny patches of shiny scales adorned her shoulders, chest, and wrists, while from the waist down, her legs are missing. Instead, a beautiful tail flaps against the water.

She’s the most magnificent thing he’s ever seen. Not in a beautiful way, but in a mesmerizing sort of manner. He can’t keep his eyes of her, maybe because she’s also staring straight at him.

They don’t say anything.

Noah is here, in this secluded corner of the earth, a piece of land hidden from the rest of the world by towering rocks on the shoreline. Things hadn’t been good lately, and the whole ordeal going on with work and his colleagues has started to take a toll on him.

The thoughts that haunted him the night before were unsettling and dangerous. They scared him and kept him awake. To avoid the story from repeating itself, today he left his house before those thoughts got the worst of him.

He came down to this distant beach because they say that gazing at the vast expanse of the ocean puts life’s troubles into perspective and makes them seem insignificant. He’s not convinced about it, but the creature staring directly into his eyes has certainly seized his attention, and all he wants to do is to approach her, ask her why she’s there instead of traversing the ocean’s depths, and what sort of fascinating thing she’s seen in him that’s keeping her gaze fixed upon him.

The first thing he asks her is her name, but he gets no reply.

Mermaids are known for their alluring voices and their melodious songs, however, under the moon’s gentle glow that first night, Noah realizes that this mermaid has no voice. He finds out because of the pained and disappointed expression that crossed her features each time he sought answers and each time she couldn’t provide.

It’s painful to watch. A deep-seated desperation for something to go right courses through him.

As if sensing his distress, she splashes some water his way, just a few droplets to catch his attention again. This time, she has a little smile on her face, and it’s sweet and innocent.

He decides he feels at peace merely looking at her, and if that’s what the sea has got to offer him, he will take it.

It’s been ten minutes or maybe an hour. Noah is not sure, and he doesn’t care. He lets the minutes meld into hours. He doesn’t want to worry about time anymore. He knows once he’s back home and away from the ocean he will have to get back to the mundane; phone calls, meetings, a working schedule, and all that. But for now, while he’s here, with her, time doesn’t matter. They regard each other with the intensity of a summer storm.

She disappears after a while.

The second time he meets her, she offers him something more than just her smile and company.

She extends her arm out of the water, droplets cascading between her fingers, and Noah instinctively opens his palm out for her. When she drops the amulet, it’s the first time they touch. It’s merely the brush of her fingertips against the skin of his palm, but it’s enough for him to know that he wants more.

Looking at it, Noah feels grateful. In his hand lays a necklace. It’s just a piece of weathered thin rope, adorned with a glass pendant containing a miniature world: inside, there is a bit of the ocean, a few drops only, a sprinkle of sand, and a minuscule pearl. The weight of it is not much. All the same, he’s convinced he’s holding a treasure from the depths.

When he looks up, she’s looking at it with a mesmerizing smile, content that even if she cannot offer him the gift of her voice, she could give him something else.

There’s sweetness in her eyes.

Yearning, too.

He can guess enough by the look on her face: she wants to communicate with him, to tell him something. Yet, she cannot bring herself to, and the pain of it spreads through her delicate features as they stare at each other after he’s muttered a low ‘thank you’.

She motions around her neck and then signals to him. Understanding her unspoken message, he hangs the necklace around his neck. Her expression shifts and she’s smiling again. It’s just a tiny smile but it will do for now. She sees him reciprocate the feeling, too, and that’s all she had hoped for tonight.

The young man is beautiful, and she wants to tell him. He’s goodhearted despite the thoughts that have been scarring his mind for the past weeks and she wants to acknowledge him that she can feel it.

Instead, she can only offer him a place of her home in that precious necklace, hoping that he will understand that he’s worth the ocean.

The third time he goes down to the beach it isn’t just to seek solace from the noise of the world. It’s also because he longs to see her. A voice in his head tells him he might be under an enchantment, some sort of bewitchment. She’s after all, a mythological creature, and he’s too mundane and too rational to believe this is real. Life is no magic tale, or is it?

Maybe it’s all in his head.

Maybe the sleepless night, the headaches, the arguments with his teammates, his dissatisfaction at the turn his life has taken has started to show its effects. Nevertheless, he wants to see her, if only one last time.

She’s already waiting for him by the time he arrives, but she’s cautious. She’s perched behind a massive rock partially submerges. She peers at the descending path in anticipation of his arrival. The way they greet each other feels like they’ve reached home after a long journey.

Her tail gently flaps at the water as she rests her body on the shore, her forearms and palms laid on the sand, her long neck stretched towards him.

Noah doesn’t stop. He takes off his shoes and socks, but he doesn’t bother rolling his jeans up.

He crouches down. The water laps at his feet, seeping into his clothes. The salt tang of the ocean fills his senses. She’s shining under the moonlight when he grasps her chin with his thumb and the bend of his index finger.

Droplets of water rest on her eyelashes. There’s no fear in her eyes. Her lips are wet, and he dives right for them.

He kisses her, his lips trapping her lower lip in a tender clasp.

Worried that she might pull back, he’s taken by surprise when, instead, she presses her mouth harder against his and parts her lips a little to give him more access. It’s like diving into the depths of the ocean, tasting a bit of the world we know so little of.

If the water touching his feet is cold, he cannot tell anymore. A shot of warmth is spreading through him as he moves his lips ever so slowly against hers. He would have loved to elicit a moan from her, some sound, but he knows by now that’s not going to happen, and he doesn’t let the disappointment take a hold of him. He relishes in the comfort of kissing the shiny creature in the water, thinking that if this is the respite the ocean has got for him, he’ll gladly take it.

'PART TWO — THE BODY' COMING UP TOMORROW

Author's note: I'm aware I have tons of projects going on at the moment. I'm looking forward to complete The Unmaking of a Warrior & Into the Abyss of Bad Habits this month, but bear with me and my random ideas in the meantime 😶‍🌫️

#noah sebastian x reader #noah sebastian fic #noah sebastian fanfic #bad omens fic #bad omens fanfic #bad omens cult #noah sebastian x you

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beanghostprincess · 3 months

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WOMEN MY BELOVED

Okay but Shanks being SUCH A SIMP is so hilarious and also RIPE FOR CHAOS. She needs a non-fruit user for some of it ((maybe up to and including some seastone experiments)), and Mihawk either can't or Won't ((or, and he refuses to admit it, doesn't exactly want to run the risk of hurting her or Croc if there's Residue)). Now she has the Best Little Guinea Pig Ever.

Shanks never considered himself to have a weird k!nk for unhinged scientist clown women, but hey, Buggy awakens things in him, what can he say?

Also imagine the exchanges there.

B: "so we're gonna take this bomb, and I'm gonna throw it at you. And you're gonna cut it, and see if the explosion causes any damage."

S: "I dunno, Bugs, it could be kinda dangerous-"

B: "if you do, I'll kiss you."

S: "YES MA'AM!!!!"

GODS AND YEAH THE OUTFITS

Personally, I think she'd either be fairly The Same as far as outfits go, for practicality, but she also is friends with Alvida, and she's a Flashy Princess, so OBVIOUSLY there's gonna be some SKIN. And just... imagine for a moment.

A gathering for/of pirates. No I do NOT care that it's not a Canon feasible event. Moving on.

Pirate Gathering. A Dress Code. Formal.

Clown Princess in Princess Dress.

Clown Woman In Any Dress. And HEELS. and if it gets uncomfortable, she just detaches her ankles and floats while her feet rest at their table.

Crocodile and Mihawk get to coordinate with her a lil bit, and they both get to watch her bounce around and just grin bc no matter who she charms or spends time with or Spends Time With (👀), she's still theirs. Open relationships.

Also also - consider Luffy and crew being there. Sanji is SWOONING. Nami is disgusted to be a clown fucker, but she's also Looking. There's bets being plaxed on Who Will Flirt First and one of Who Will Be Most Successful.

Luffy meanwhile is splitting his time between FOOD, FRIENDS, and AUNTIE HI HOW ARE YOU I LOVE YOUR DRESS.

She acts all annoyed and put out but she and Luffy CLICK in a way few ever have, their brands of Unhinged and Feral are complimentary.

((Extra Bonus, maybe it's a gathering for the Emperors. Shanks is there too. He is frothing at the mouth bc AAAAA LUFFY and AAAAA BUGGY and AAAAA LOOK AT THEM TOGETHER.

The only way we include Teach in this is if he's in Dirty Baby Jail, hit on Buggy and got OBLITERATED, or Buggy point blank 'seduces' him to knock him out, steal his treasure, and then locked him in a closet with seastone cuffs and a toothbrush.))

I love seeing an ask starting with "women my beloved". It makes a lesbian's day. Do not stop loving women.

This is all amazing. Thank you. Yes. Absolutely. Shanks would let Buggy do anything to him and he'd thank her and honestly? Understandable. While Mihawk and Crocodile just see their girl do her own stuff with pleased smiles on their faces. If their clown wants to torment people with her silly shenanigans and lethal inventions, who are they to intervene?

And the outfits would kind of be the same, yeah, but she'd definitely want to catch people's attention. Maybe at first she still wears the same things, but after a while of feeling comfortable in her body and with her identity? She has a closet full of clown-themed outfits. Beautiful dresses. She has everything. From classy, more sophisticated dresses to sillier outfits. Everything is provided by Crocodile because now Buggy is some kind of beautiful Barbie he dresses and watches explode things. "This Barbie is a pyromaniac clown" but like, literally.

Sanji and Nami are having a moment™. Leave them alone. It's understandable. Sanji is shameless about it, though, while Nami is questioning her entire persona (that's only like the first five seconds tho). Zoro wants to get out of there and he can't stand them (<- gay gay homosexual gay) but at least he has a chance to talk to Mihawk again so, whatever. And Luffy won't stop annoying Buggy but she secretly loves the kid a ton, and he won't stop telling her to go "boom boom" on stuff together while they catch up and that's something she can't say no to.

Shanks is going through a heart attack, by the way. I heard those AAAAAAAAAAAAs in his voice. He's SO happy to see Luffy. And SO excited to see Buggy like that. And SO thrilled to see them together getting along. He can't get rid of Mihawk and Crocodile who're staring at him menacingly (because yes, they have an open relationship with Buggy but that does not mean Shanks gets to hurt her again. So they try to be careful even when they know he's pretty much her silly toy now to try her new inventions on) but he doesn't really care about it.

#I LOVE FEM BUGS FEM BUGS MY BELOVED #she's so gender #i wanna look like her #i mean i already cosplayed her but i wanna do it again #one piece #buggy the clown #fem buggy #cross guild

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auburnitzy · 1 year

Text

KISSES WITH THE TRAFFIC LIGHT TRIO

CHARACTERS - RED SON + MK + MEI (SEPERATE)

DISCLAIMER - FLUFF

IDEA - HOW DO THE TRAFFIC LIGHT TRIO PREFER THEIR KISSES?

WORDS - 750+

• RED SON •

- Red Son prefers long, passionate kisses that matches the intensity of his flames. A short peck on the lips wouldn't satisfy him as he likes the feeling of your lips on his.

- It's mostly you who initiates it. No matter how frustrated Red Son gets, he won't ask you for a kiss unless he's really desperate because he values his pride and dignity.

- He'll get red in the face and would stutter on the rare occasion that he'd ask. His eyes would land on anywhere but yours. If you decide to tease him, the color on his cheeks would intensify (and maybe spark a few flames on his hair).

- If he gets fed up with your teasing he'll just yell "FORGET IT!" before turning his back on you. He still wants a kiss, but again, he values his pride and dignity. There's no way he would beg a mere mortal for something as trivial as a kiss.

- In the end, Red Son caves in to his urges and gathers up the courage to ask you again. No matter how much he denies it, he craves for your touch.

- If you accept, he'll take a moment to stare into your eyes and admire them as he tucks a strand of hair behind your ear before he places his lips on yours.

- Like the rest of his body, Red Son's lips are warm. Not hot enough to burn you, but warm.

- If you're feeling frisky and decide to deepen the kiss, you'll actually get feel his little fangs.

• QI XIAOTIAN •

- MK prefers short kisses. It doesn't matter if it's on the lips or the cheek.

- He likes to receive kisses more than giving them.

- Making out would be difficult because he can't sit still for even a second.

- The guy's not afraid to ask you for a kiss. He's not even gonna hesitate. The only exception is when you're in front of his friends, because he knows they're gonna tease the heck out of him.

- His favorite is the one where you kiss his forehead. He thinks of it as a good luck charm, and will put even more effort into his work and training. Sun Wukong and Pigsy would take notice of this, and would mistake it for productivity when in reality, Xiaotian's repeating the forehead kiss in his mind.

- Definitely the type to ask you to kiss his wounds and bruises, telling you that it makes it heal faster. It doesn't, but you still do it anyway because the warmth that would radiate from Xiaotian's smile would rival even the sun's.

- On the off chance you guys would make out, you're gonna have to take the initiative here. His face would turn redder than a tomato and he would melt in your arms. Steam is practically coming out of his ears. He might even pass out if he gets too hot.

- If you decide to be a meanie and refuse him his kisses, he will pout and sulk into the corner. If he has to train or go to work, he'll put less effort because he's sad that you didn't give him a kiss.

- You monster, look at what you've done.

• MEI DRAGON •

- Mei doesn't have a preference on the length of the kiss. She doesn't care. Kisses are kisses.

- Just like gifts, she prefers to give than to receive.

- Her favorite place to kiss is your cheek.

- Surprise kisses are her forte. She'll sneak up behind you, attack you with a hug before spinning you around to give you a smooch. Don't worry, she asked for your permission beforehand. Mei doesn't like to make you uncomfortable and will put your comfort above her wants.

- She would absolutely pepper your face in kisses. From your forehead to your cheeks, messy lipstick marks would litter your face. There's not a single day where you don't have a pink lipstick mark on your face.

- You have to be on your guard though. Mei would probably bite your neck and leave a mark if given the chance. You can't exactly blame her, because you knew dragons are possessive of their treasures, and you're no exception.

- Mei likes to use waterproof lipstick, so have fun washing all that off!

- If you're in the mood to be mean, block her kisses. This is a surefire way to get on her nerves.

- Make sure you give her a kiss or she'll spend the day avoiding you like the plague and looking at you with an annoyed face.

- Never upset the dragon.

Don't follow me for content like this. I rarely post stuff like this as it's mostly OC x Canon.

#monkie kid x reader #monkie kid #red son x reader #qi xiation x reader #mk x reader #mei x reader #lego monkie kid x reader #lmk x reader #☆ writing ☆

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kuromitos · 1 year

Text

Heartbeat comfort

[Jason Todd x Fem!Reader]

Late-night ideas and some ideas I had for an oc of mine but instead of boring you with those details. I create this instead.

Jason Todd isn't exactly the smartest guy around but he did notice things. He notices the little details about stuff. The stuff that matters. Like his current girlfriend. He notices very single details about her.

The way she parts her hair before heading to work, the way she cooks the food when they have a night together, the way she rolls her eyes when she annoyed with him.

But his favorite details about her are how she shows affection to him. Everything about it makes him feel so loved and treasured. Like he's the only one in the world. The only thing that matters. Just like how he feels about her.

As much as he loves the way she shows affection, there's one way that stick out the most to him.

Before going to bed, she wraps her arm around him and lay her head directly on his chest, right where his heart is, and goes to sleep. On an occasional morning, he wakes up to her doing that exact thing. Laying her head on his chest. Does it every morning and every night.

At first, he thought she just like his chest. He got to admit that he has an attractive body. He has seen people stare when he's at the gym.

But due to how long she had been doing it, he can't help but feel like it more than just simple attraction. It's almost like its is part of her daily routine. Her day can't start without doing that simple action.

Due to that feeling, he decided to confront her about it. Just when she came home from work, he greet her as usual, with a forehead kiss, and started the conversation.

"Hey doll." A giggle escapes her mouth, "hey handsome. You hungry for Chinese tonight? My friend recommended me this place on 65th street we can order from." She walks around him to put her coat down on the couch and heads to the bathroom. "I was actually thinking about cooking something," Jason says while following her around to hear her response.

"As much as I love your cooking, baby. We rarely get a night together so I want to spend it together as much as possible." "I'm just going to the kitchen " "you don't like me in the kitchen when you cook. You make me seat in the living room" "Yeah cause you eat the ingredients and boss me around. " she laughs at his answers and wraps her arm around his neck; He wrapped his arms around her waist in response. "I'm just helping." "You can help by seating still and look pretty " another laugh left her mouth as she leans closer to his face, "Well another reason I don't want you to cook is because I want your attention on me and me only tonight"

She kiss him after that sentence and a moan left his mouth. He pulls away because he getting sidetracked from his main goal. "Speaking of attention, there's something I wanted to ask you." Jason put his hands on her shoulders and rubs them up and down on her arms, a sign he comes in peace with his questions, "I've noticed that you kinda have this routine of laying on my chest." Her smile was slowly dropping the more he talks.

"I don't hate when you do it. I was just if there's a specific reason why you do it." His hands are still on her arms but not moving. They start to grip her as if she slip away. Her reaction to his question made him believe she was. Did he cross a line somewhere? Should he apologize? He should apologize

Before he could, she shyly respond. "It's a stupid thing. Nothing really." She push his hands off her and walks towards the kitchen, grabbinga takeout menu. "On second thought, how about we order pizza? I think we have a coupon for a free appetizer. "

Ah. Jason understands now. She doing a detail he dislikes. Avoiding the question. She does that when she not sure about her answer towards a question. Mainly when she think jason won't like the answer. Now he needs to know.

He follows behind her but everytime he gets close,she dodges him. "Babe?" "what pizza do you want? I'm thinking meat supreme." "Babe." "But you said you're watching your diet,right? How about veggies instead? " "Baby please-" "you know what? Forget pizza! Let's just get something from that place from down the street-" "Baby please! just stop!"

Jason grabbed her wrist when she tried to escape from him, "I know what you're doing. You think I won't like your answer so you trying to avoid it altogether. I promise I won't hate you or your answer, so just tell me okay? I can handle it."

He said that he can handle it but the next words out of her mouth did surprise alot.

"I'm listening to your heart beat. I'm making sure you're still alive."

"What?" Due to his shock, she able to get out of his hold and turn her full-body toward him, her face was pointing towards the ground though, "It's may sounds stupid to you but hearing your heart beat brings me comfort. Most nights I come home to a empty apartment and bed because you're out on patrol. Fighting and dealing with dangerous people every night. Other nights, I wake up to you coming home, bloody and broken, and I have to patch you up. So I worry about the fact that I...i..." tears start to brim in the bottom eyelids. Threatening to spill over but she keeps it in.

"That I might lose you. That you won't be the one climbing in the window, that It's your family, having to break the news to me. So to calm those thoughts, I listen to your heart as reassurance that you are still here with me." She lifted her hand to wipe the tears that escape her eyes but someone else did it for her. Jason, with a tender smile on his face.

"I know it's dumb to worry so much since I know what I sign up for but-" Jason interrupted with a kiss on her lips and leaning his forehead on hers. "No. No, it's not dumb. If anything it's appreciated. Knowing you care so much about me. I wish I could do more to ease your worries but I want you to know that nothing is going to take me away from you. I will do everything in my power to return to you safe and sound. So you can hear my heartbeat every time you need to."

Hopefully, it didn't end up in a mess due to half of it being done in my sleep. But here's a full-length jason todd story.

That's all I got. Bye for now ( ´∀｀ )b

#jason peter todd #jason todd x y/n #jason todd imagine #jason todd x reader #jason todd #red hood

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kavvehs · 1 year

Text

RESUSCITATION — PERSONA 5 ROYAL

he should be dead, but if he has to spend another unfortunate minute alive he wants it to be spent with you.

♡ — themes : gender-neutral!reader, phantom thief!reader, angst, hurt / comfort, physical affection, reader is referred to with “you”, minor one-sided feelings (joker) if you squint, minimal dialogue, essentially a reunion fic bc i love this crazy bastard.

♡ — content / trigger warning : spoilers for shido’s palace + third semester + akechi’s background, mentions of blood / death / wounds.

♡ — word count : 3k

The cruelty started with his mother.

He was young, but he wasn’t stupid. He was a mere child, but he was far from naive and innocent to the ugly truth of the world around him. He knew that the way mothers and fathers gazed at their sons and daughters differed from the way his own mother would gaze at him. Goro could count on his own two hands alone how many times she looked him in the eye, a single hand for how often that lasted for more than a couple seconds that felt like significantly less than that. In her own way, however, a distant and saddened and haunted way, she cared about him. She dressed him and fed him and asked him if he had a good day at school over dinner at the rickety table held together by duct tape. She combed her fingers through his hair and kissed his forehead with trembling lips while her eyes became glassy, as if confronted by the horrible reminder that the literal personification of her suffering stood before her.

The obvious lingered in the air between them like smoke, but went unspoken like it wasn’t there to begin with. He wasn’t deaf to the slander and expletives hurled at them that only gave reason to another round of sobbing when she thought he was asleep. She still smiled at him afterwards, as if he didn’t notice the exhaustion hanging to the underside of her eyes or the expensive cologne clinging to her exposed skin. It wasn’t until he reached for her hand in search of comfort and was met with empty space that he realized just how blind he had been. She shielded him from countless cruel names and jabs because she placed what should have been his burden upon herself. His soft body wasn’t prepared for the punctures that the people’s cruelty inflicted upon him and still wasn’t, even when he was left battered and bruised and pleading for a warm hand, but received cold shoulders instead. A lonely child doesn’t know how to mend the wound that loss and grief leaves behind, after all.

He could still recall the poison-riddled sneers. Whether he was in earshot or not, it didn’t matter to the beasts masquerading as people, calling his mother weak and laughing as if they had no hand in the reason she gave up. She despaired until she couldn’t handle the heavy weight of torment and the pressure that came with enduring hardships any longer. She gave up not because of a lack of strength, but because of injustice and the savagery of the corrupted masses. For the pedestal human hearts are placed upon, they are no less easy to manipulate once you grasped what they treasured at their cores. A figure in the shape of him lingered in hers and that should have been enough—he desperately wanted it to be enough—but the unabashed hostilities opened each wound he tried to ease and heal with his tiny palms until he was powerless to do anything more. Hers would have given out eventually, but that didn’t ease the ache in his.

Goro spit in the face of fate, destiny, whatever bullshit name attributed to some scapegoat to shift the blame onto when things turned sour. How could anyone believe in something so knowingly cruel? How could they be content putting their lives in the hands of mere coincidences or a so-called deity that couldn’t care less about what became of mortal men, and then be alright with whatever miserable fate befell upon them? All because of destiny? All his mother did was meet a rotten shell of a man, and then what? She was fated to live in a constant cycle of torment and suffering and promptly die because a higher power said so? That was a load of shit if he ever heard it and he refused to live a life under someone else’s jurisdiction. It was because of his hard work, his perseverance, his accomplishments, his everything that he ended up where he was and he refused to allow anyone to claim that as their own.

Most importantly: Goro Akechi refused to live because someone else said so.

In the face of his impending demise, Goro was...somewhat, somehow, satisfied going out this way. Death certainly wasn’t ideal by any means—hell, he could say the same for the entire predicament he found himself in—but he was backed into a corner with no escape method. Unable to watch Shido be knocked off of his obnoxiously tall pedestal was honestly disappointing, but if anyone could take that piece of shit down at all, regardless of if he was there or not, it was the Phantom Thieves. They made it through the most impossible scenarios tossed at their feet and weaseled their way out with a just as impossible plan; this would be no different. To think that would be his dying wish. He didn’t think he’d have one at all. Knowing Shido would finally end up where he belonged, dead or alive, by his hand or someone else’s, brought him a twisted sense of closure. You would always be cared for while he was gone, and that would be enough.

When he closed his eyes and he allowed his thoughts to drift, Goro could still see the betrayal that lined your eyes, moistened by the hurt and confusion and worry he knows fully well that he’s deserving of. He told himself, readied himself, for that very look because he knew it was coming. It was inevitable and he knew that, but it was like a shot to the empty chasm where his heart should be to really see it and be the one it was directed towards and it hurt like hell. It was agony and Goro didn’t know how to soothe or turn his cheek from it, but he had no choice but to face you head-on. In the moment where nothing but laughter ran his throat hoarse and an addicting sort of adrenaline that totally disregarded any rational thought pumped through his veins, he decided he hated that fucking look. Quit looking at him like that! Goddamn you! He didn’t want your sympathy; your pity; your love; nothing! But he’s always been quite the liar, hasn’t he?

His last memory was him staring down the crumpled, fading corpses of the Shadows and his doppelganger while more of the distorted creatures formed in their place. Vaguely, he could still recall the cool metal against his back and the warmth between his fingers as he clutched his side. Seeing the physical representation of who he was in the eyes of that bastard neither shook or surprised him, but he could still taste the bubbling disgust. Its eyes were so empty and soulless while it declared how happy it would be to serve and lay down its life for someone who never cared for anyone but himself. Joker spoke through the wall and he somehow felt close to the nobody, but the irony was bitter considering the circumstances. Someone screamed his name from the other side of the door, voice echoing across the walls while his body rattled as a fist or weapon slammed against the divide over and over. He didn’t live long enough to hear the rest.

Goro Akechi died in Masayoshi Shido’s Palace and yet was miraculously resurrected in the busy streets of Shibuya. He might have been impressed if it didn’t piss him off.

“One last thing,” Goro said, turning his back to the prosecutor. “How are they?”

Clarification is irrelevant when the tone of his voice dropped into something softer and uncomfortably vulnerable of its own accord. It’s obnoxious, really. Ren stood a bit straighter, a bit taller, squared his shoulders, and didn’t respond. The response, or lack thereof, is enough for him to get the picture. He didn’t have the right to know the answer, nor did he deserve it after the damage he inflicted, but his fingers still twitched to try and piece things back together. It would undoubtedly be messy and his hands would surely bleed and mix with what stained them already, but he was still willing to try. The look Ren gave him said enough, however: he didn’t have that option, not right now. He immediately felt like a fool for asking. In any other situation, he may have been proud of himself for the emotion that seeped through the Phantom Thieves’ leader’s mask of cool composure. Instead there was only disappointed numbness.

“Is something wrong?” Sae asked after a long period of silence and tension. He knew that some part of her, past the loyalty to the law and younger sister, she did care for the Phantom Thieves.

“Ah, nothing of concern,” he lied, voice pleasant and full of its usual false charm, but it didn’t quite reach his expression.

Though his words were directed towards the woman, his attention never shifted away from an openly conflicted Ren. He pinned him down with his glare alone and clung to the minute hope that he would get the answer at the very last second. Or a minute. Or even two if he remained patient. Pale lips didn’t so much as move from its frown and any visible surprise and relief from the detective’s initial appearance became a mere memory of moments prior. All things considered it was fairly understandable. He turned to Sae and it was clear that she didn’t believe a single word spoken, not after that, but he didn’t care or dignify her with a response, especially the one she was looking for. If he didn’t get what he wanted, neither would she. Goro turned his back to the both of them and began walking away in false stride.

“We should be going.”

Goro didn’t know why he was here. He had his suspicions of how and why he had been so rudely resurrected if his conversations with Ren were anything to go by, but the reason why he’s here in Shibuya and standing in the middle of the sidewalk like some idiot alluded him. There was nothing special about this place and nothing that stood out, and yet his feet refused to move despite his attempts at willing himself forward. He had nowhere to be, but no reason to stop either. Curious, or another one of the doctor’s cheap tricks. It was hard to say. Faceless passerby navigated around him and he couldn’t be bothered in giving them the time of day when they didn’t so much as blink in his direction anymore. It was the usual order of society, but he despised the unwelcome familiarity that crept to the forefront of his mind from where he buried it deep within his memories. The title of second-coming of the prince detective, all of his hard work, meant nothing in a world where he only lived for someone else.

The cool air nipped at his face and a cloud of air expelled from between his lips. Instinctively, he curled his hand a little tighter at his side, but when he glanced downwards at his glove he merely grasped at the empty air with nothing but the lens of what used to be filtered over his vision. To have you suddenly missing from his side was jarring, to say the least. Reflection wasn’t his ideal pastime, but it was all he had when his loss drowned him. Loss of what he once had, loss of direction, loss of company, loss of purpose. He didn’t regret what he did and there was no shame in his admittance, but a twinge of regret sparked for not doing more to keep you out of the confrontation. His waking moments wouldn’t be consumed so mercilessly if he had a little more time, was a little better. Maybe that’s why you chose to stand by Joker and not him, because that nobody living in an attic was somehow always better than him.

Goro shook those thoughts away before they could fester into something worse than his (not at all jealous) scowl and grounded himself back into the distorted reality around him, only to find his back seared from a burning gaze drilled into him from behind. He first glanced over his snowflake-covered shoulder and then turned his whole body, and was given little time to linger on the realization of how fluidly he was suddenly able to move when your eyes stared back from across the people-ridden street. It was something out of a fantasy, the crowds parting and disappearing as if the world belonged to you and him, and you and him alone. It could, a voice that sounded suspiciously like that damned doctor’s whispered in his ear. If that’s what would make you both happy. Tempting, calculating, sickeningly genuine. Goro swat that thought away without thinking twice.

Even when you sought warmth in the winter clothing bundled comfortably around you, you were just as captivating as he remembered, twice as breathtaking, and Goro wouldn’t have looked away even if he was capable of doing so. Your eyes, a gorgeous hue of color that he could wander and get lost in, widened in recognition and a sudden swarm of emotions that summoned tears. Were you crying for him or another reason? He would be selfish and hope it was the former, but then why would that be? He had your love—whether he still did was up in the air—and that was enough. Despite how much he craved it, craved you, craved more, he knew it was undeserved. How could you love someone who left scarlet stains across your face and body when he held you? The love in your eyes when his true self slipped past his princely persona was wholly authentic in the past, but would that remain when there wasn’t a front for him to fall back on?

His feet carried him forward and yours did the same with far more urgency and less self-deprecation between maneuvering around the mindless passerby, as if he was a fleeting memory you were desperately trying to hold onto. He tended his arms and dug his heels into the concrete before he could fall backwards when your body collided with his. Your arms wrapped around him and with his chest pressed against yours, he could distinctly feel the erratic drum of your heart. His, meanwhile, bled between your fingers from where he ripped it out and gave it to you for safe-keeping. In your kind and loving palms it swelled, it warmed, it beat, it mended itself together. Goro couldn’t recall the last time it did that or how, despite each and every crack and bruise and puncture, it still yearned and lived. For all that he did, you still held onto it and nurtured it. He still couldn’t put a name to the fluttering in his stomach after all this time.

Your grip on the back of his coat tightened incrementally, body and breath trembling between trying to muster all of the strength you had. Goro couldn’t even bring himself to hold you close like he had before and could only watch as his palms hovered over you, as if he’d somehow do further damage from touch alone. How pathetic he had become within your absence. He couldn’t tell how long you stayed like that for, but it certainly long enough, if you asked him. He couldn’t complain too much when you raised your head from where it rested against him for your teary-eyed gaze to meet his. A chill ran down his spine at the feeling of your wandering hands cradling his cheeks, fingers caressing the flushed skin beneath his eyes and outlining the contour of his face. One hand raised to cover yours as he melted into your touch and leaned into one palm without so much as breaking eye contact. All of the tension in his body faded far out of sight and out of mind.

“My Goro,” you whispered for him and him alone. “Is it really you? This isn’t a dream, right?”

It’s a little late to be asking that, what little of his mind that wasn’t drunk on you realized, but all he’s able to get out is a nod and a breathless, “Yeah, it’s me.”

It was hard to tell whether it’s because of the sound of his voice or the confirmation that summons them forward, but one tear after the other slipped down your cheeks and left glittering stains in their wake. With trained carefulness he used for nobody else, he brushed both away with the back of his fingers one after the other. Some part of him patiently awaited for the knee-jerk reaction to his touch, but it never came. Instead you sunk further into him and his free hand rose to rest against your hip where it belonged before he could so much as give himself the command. Then his lips are on yours and that’s an order he happily followed through with the moment it crossed his mind. It was too harsh, too ravenous, impatient, pathetically desperate, and Goro knew that, but he did nothing to ease it. His mouth moved against yours and he would have drew away at the initial stillness had you not returned the gesture tenfold.

His lips slipped away from yours for a breath of air at the very last second when his lungs screamed for oxygen and he only needed a second more before he went in for another, and another, and another. Eventually, he could feel the corner of your lips rise and laughter bubble between each depraved, downright desperate kiss. Goro nearly forgot how much he loved the sound of it, how much he missed it. His gloves curled tight into your clothing with only the whispered reminder of how careful he needed to be at the back of his mind, but it did nothing to stop him from holding you close against him. Your arms snaked around his shoulders and he blamed the chill for the shiver that tore through him until the pads of your fingers, cold yet somehow sparking warmth throughout his body, rested against the back of his neck. Your forehead pressed against his and he was only slightly aware of the gentle tugging at the strands of hair caught beneath his scarf, but he didn’t dare tear his eyes from yours.

“I missed you,” he admitted with a vulnerability that burned his lungs. “So, so much.”

“I missed you more.”

#[ ❦ ↣ within the starlight ]#persona 5 x reader #persona 5 royal x reader #goro akechi x reader #persona x reader #p5 x reader #p5r x reader #persona 5 #persona 5 royal #goro akechi #gender neutral reader #angst #hurt/comfort #persona 5 royal spoilers #x reader #reader insert #persona 5 goro akechi #goro akechi persona 5 royal

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 9 months

Text

No Time This Time 9

Warnings: this fic will include dark content such as noncon and other elements. My warnings are not exhaustive, enter at your own risk.

This is a dark!fic and explicit. 18+ only. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: You prize order and practicality but your past, and newest client, throw your life into chaos. (older [~50s] reader)

Character: Tony Stark

Notes: Alright. Tony is growing on me but only because he’s a shit stirrer.

As per usual, I humbly request your thoughts! Reblogs are always appreciated and welcomed, not only do I see them easier but it lets other people see my work. I will do my best to answer all I can. I’m trying to get better at keeping up so thanks everyone for staying with me <3

Your feedback will help in this and future works (and WiPs, I haven’t forgotten those!)

Love you like Tony loves his own voice. Take care. 💖

"Please clear the week. Reschedule my meetings," you toss a pair of unworn sandals into your suitcase, your phone on the bed next to it.

"Yes, ma'am," Halton answers from the speaker.

"I did a quick sweep, there shouldn't be anything urgent. As it were, we will not be accepting any new clients until the end of the month."

He acquiesces again as you open a drawer and sift through, searching for a swimsuit. You can barely recall the last time you needed one.

"You can file it as paid vacation," you inform him.

"Thank you," he says, the smile obvious in his tone.

"Well, off you go. I don't want to hear from you again unless it's an emergency," you find a black bikini with the tags still on.

"Got it."

"Great, have a good day," you drop the suit in the bag and tap the screen, ending the call.

Almost as soon as the line is dead, another incoming call pops up. Your morning has been effectively avoiding the series of attempts from both Samia and your mother. You've set your voicemail and your automatic replies, you are out of office and soon to be out of the country.

It's as spontaneous as you've ever been. You're a planner. You don't just hop on the next plane out but that's exactly what you're doing.

Your father was the same way. When he was practicing, he never took a vacation. And what did that get him? A heart attack. Several, actually. There will never be a better time to get away or a better reason.

No, you won't give Stark that much credit. It's not just him, it's you. You're old enough, you need to start doing things just for you.

Another call. Your mother has never been known as subtle. Or to take a hint. Sometimes even when you spell it out, she refuses to understand.

So be it. You need a moment to breathe before you relent. You need a second wind before you face the task that is your family and your past. More so, you need to be far from New York.

👜

You cannot claim to be unfamiliar with decadence. It is a privilege you treasure but never one you place as requisite. You can still admire luxury and you would define the resort as nothing less than.

Your room has a broad balcony that overlooks the Italian coast, the sun beats down on the sparkling sea, and illuminates the space, shadowing intricate patterns carved in wood. The decor speaks of an old world drawn into the present. Refined and elegant.

You wear a caftan down to the shore and claim your reserved seat among the row of vacationers. You strip off the sheer layer and rub in suncreen before reclining beneath the shade of a broad umbrella. You open your book and dive into the plot, forgetting the hot sands and the stolid air.

You're still not used to it. It's as if you're on a whole new planet. The first day saw you fighting not to check your phone or delve into your work email. You fought the urge to cling to routine and won. Your determination has ever been a talent.

After twelve, you have your first cocktail. A simple gin drink with lime. You let it seep in and ease you back into your fictional escape. An attendant brings you a fruit cocktail and some pastries not long after.

It's paradise and you value it dearly. You hadn't realised how sorely you need this.

As you pack up, balmy and slightly sleepy from the sun, a speck flits across the sky. You look up but cannot place the phenomenon before it disappears. Your imagination must've been sparked by the mixture of heat and alcohol.

You return to your room and enjoy a dinner of handmade gnocchi and wine sauce. The more you indulge, the harder you know it will be to go back to the city. Your peace is underlined by a strand of wistfulness.

Several days trickle by in the same vein of lethargy. You have no appointments, no calls, no obligations besides the beach, a cocktail, and a book. It’s as if you are an entirely different person, as if you’ve taken on someone else’s life entirely. The stuffy overworked lawyer is still trapped in New York with her leeching family and arrogant clients.

A few too many mojitos have you sprawled on the sofa. The open balcony lets in the warm dusk breeze and lulls you deeper into drowsiness. The weight of the alcohol shrouds your body, sweeping you up in a swirling slumber that makes you dizzy.

The soft whisk of metal doors shut and you look over as a button clicks beneath the push of a finger. You follow the arm, the dark fabric of a tailored jacket, to the familiar face. You sneer and take a step back, the elevator tipping with your movement. You stumble and fall against the wall.

He laughs. A menacing laugh that echoes all around you and adds to the disorienting skew of your subconscious. You brace the metal rail against the wall and suddenly, you’re falling back, plummeting through open air.

Bright flashes of white appear above you as you flail helplessly. The laughter is muffled but deep. You’re scooped up in a hard metal embrace, the red and gold mask taunting you as you’re carried through the open sky.

The metal retracts and reveals your saviour. Not who you expect. It isn’t Tony but Carlisle, mocking you with that slanted grin you once thought was charming. He winks and lets you go, letting you fall like a stone through water.

You spin and face the looming ground, hurtling faster and faster towards you. You let out a shrill scream and jolt awake as it cuts through to reality. You’re out of breath as you sit up, nearly rolling off the couch as the sharp noise continues. It isn’t you, but your phone, shrieking at you.

You stagger to get to your feet. You shiver, still in only your bikini, and the phone goes silent. You search around the dim room, the sounds of the ocean crashing through the open doors.

Your cell lights up again and you snatch it from the wooden tabletop. You drag your finger across the screen, only vaguely reading the name on the display; Samia. You answer with a croak, holding back a hiccup.

“About time!” She sounds like your mother with her abrupt greeting, “I’ve been calling you all day. Don’t you understand it’s a fucking emergency?”

“Samia,” you say dully, bracing your forehead, “shhhhh,” you amble around and sit on the sofa, “why are you yelling?”

“Are you drunk?” She accuses.

“I’m on vacation–”

“Yes, we know, but not all of us just run away from our problems–”

You snort. Loud. You devolve into sardonic laughter and click your tongue loudly.

“Don’t lecture me on running away from responsibility, Sam, don’t,” you warn, “tell me what it is. Let’s cut out the rest.”

She gives a dramatic heave, “mom’s in the hospital.”

“What?” You sit forward.

“She fell. This morning. I… I was looking at venues, I couldn’t be there.”

“Fuck!” You exclaim without filter, “Samia… have you seen her?”

“Mmm, I really wanted to but Carlisle–”

“Oh,” you snarl, “Carlisle!” You growl as you ball your hand to a tight fist, “I’ll get a flight.”

“I’m going in the morning, I prom–”

You hang up and throw your phone onto the narrow table before you. You hang your head, cradling it as you fear it might split in two. Were you really stupid enough to think you could ever catch a break?

👜

The redeye has you back in the city by noon. You fall into the rush of the city naturally, hailing a cab and collecting yourself in the back seat. You tip the driver as he idles outside the hospital and you hop out, rolling suitcase in tow as you march through the front doors.

It takes another hour to be admitted to your mother’s room. You don’t expect a warm welcome. You’re not entirely sure what to expect as you enter her private room. The nurse informs you before she lets you in that your mother is awake. That must be good.

The entire space is decorated in bouquets of flowers. You didn’t know your mother would have that many wellwishers. You leave your bag by the door as you give a long consideration to the red roses nearest you.

“Finally, you decide to show up,” she yaps at you.

“Flights from Italy are not quick,” you reproach, “I came as quickly as I could.”

“You wouldn’t pick up the phone.”

You repress your frustration, “I left it in my room. I’m sorry, mother.”

“Selfish, as always.”

You swallow tightly. Selfish. You cut short your first vacation since your honeymoon to come make sure she was alright. Even after calling and being assured by the staff that it was luckily only a fall. She hadn’t even broken her hip.

“Lovely flowers,” you remark as you walk along the row of vases.

“Oh, isn’t it so pretty? Mr. Stark is so generous–”

“Stark?” You spin on your heel, “what do you mean?”

“Well, of course, he heard that my daughters were both absent and he had to be here. Samia is so busy so she called him just to be sure that I wasn’t alone.”

“She called him. Why would she do that?”

“Oh, he’s been most helpful with the wedding. He’s let her have his Tower for her party and he’s been helping with all sorts of details. He referred her to a wonderful designer for her dress, too. Ah, and he’s invited Carlisle to some tournament? I think, golf or the like–”

“That makes no sense,” you sniff, “why is Tony Stark… doing all that?”

“Perhaps he sees a lonely old woman who’s been neglected by her only children,” she bemoans.

You know you won’t get the answer from her. She’s drunk the fresh-ade. She is entirely swindled by the overpaid crook.

“So, where’s Samia, then? She told me she was coming this morning.”

“She’s on her way, I’m sure. The city, traffic.”

You could scream. You could break her hip yourself. She would excuse Samia for not making it across the city but would remand you for not magically teleporting from across the globe.

“Well, I’m not waiting on her. I think we have something to discuss.”

“Is it lunch? I am rather hungry and this hospital food, it does not agree with me,” she touches her stomach, “Mr. Stark was kind enough to come for dinner last night but I hate to trouble him further.”

“That can wait. Mother, we are hiring you a caregiver.”

“A caregiver? I am not helpless.”

“That isn’t what I’m saying. But it would bring peace of mind if you had someone around when me and Samia are not. It wouldn’t be forever but given your fall, you will need supervision.”

“Oh, so you can take time to go traipsing across the world but you can’t take any for me?”

You cross your arms and sigh. You stare at her blankly.

“It’s not an argument, it’s not a negotiation. It is how it will be. You are getting a nurse, at least until the physiotherapist clears you. That’s that.”

She scoffs, “ugh, you always did have the makings of a lawyer, you know that?”

“Thank you,” you retort harshly, “that’s the kindest thing you’ve ever said to me.”

“Oh, lord, what is up your behind? You’ve always been trite but you’ve never like this.”

“Mother, realise that you are not the only one with hardships, yes? I have to make sure you are well, which is what I am doing. I have attend the wedding of the husband who cheated on me, and I have to deal with the that is—” You stop yourself before you can say his name, “I have work. I have responsibilities and I hold to them. And it will never be enough.”

You wave her off and go back to the door, “I will order you lunch, we will eat it together, and we will hope that Samia for once comes through and shows up.”

You leave the room before you can combust. You stand in the hall, searching through your phone for somewhere nearby, or somewhere to order from. You fight to keep from shaking as you read the screen; get yourself together.

👜

Your vacation is a quickly fading memory as you fall back into the city life. You make several calls around in search of an appropriate homecare worker for your mother. Amid that, you return to office and work on your own to catch up. Halton is away but you’ll let him enjoy the last of his days off.

Between all that, you are faced with the daunting sight of an unexpected delivery. The clear glass box with the bouquet of pure white roses. It’s all very elaborate and exhausting. You flick back the silver clasp and lift the lid. Inside is a crystal rose on a golden stem, a date etched into the metal.

It’s an invite to your sister’s wedding and you are unsurprised by the tackiness of the overdone gesture. Beneath the ornament you would rather smash to bits, is a triarch that folds out to reveal the details and how to RSVP. You roll your eyes and blow out a breath.

A vineyard. Suiting. You replace the pieces in the box and leave the bouquet where it is. You type in the venue to Google. You nearly choke. Brick and Blossom Vino recently acquired by Stark Industries. How convenient.

It’s no coincidence. Stark has no business in wine or vineyard or event planning. It is not an advantageous deal, it is a direct statement. He may not be there in your face but he is haunting you nonetheless. Taunting you.

Let him waste his efforts. You will not be affected.

A knock comes at your office door. Another delivery. You sign and accepted the second bouquet. This one small and admittedly aesthetically pleasing. The small wooden box holds a cluster of pink tulips and baby’s breath. There’s a ribbon around it, attached to a simple card. It doesn’t really suggest Stark handiwork.

You take the envelope and unfold it. You smile as you see only the embossed bumps of braille within. Oh.

You take the card to your desk and grab your phone. You pull up Matt’s number and put him on speaker as you wait for an answer.

“Hey,” his voice comes amidst the honking of traffic and shuffle of the street.

“So, uh, how exactly am I supposed to read this card?”

“Ha, well, I could show you,” he offers, “if you’re free for dinner.”

“Hmm, well, I suppose I could clear my schedule,” you hum.

“Wow, really?”

“Sure,” you chew your lip and catch the unusual pinch, unclenching your teeth and clearing your throat, “I could use a drink.”

“Hopefully, this one doesn’t end up in some jerk’s face,” he chortles, “I’ll pick you up.”

#tony stark #dark tony stark #dark!tony stark #tony stark x reader #matt murdock #daredevil #mcu #marvel #fic #dark fic #dark!fic #series #no time this time #avengers #iron man

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giorno-plays-piano · 11 months

Text

Thorns In His Mouth

Part III

Pairing: fae!Steve Rogers x reader

Warnings: obsession, dubious consent, minor character death, drugs (neither reader nor Steve are involved), slight eating disorder, mentions of tumor, high tech elves.

Words: 1.4k

Summary: Maybe it was a good idea to chat with a waitress a bit more once she brought you your order. Perhaps she could at least tell you with whom you should speak because you simply couldn’t force yourself to look at others, most of them already high, shouting something loudly or laughing or weeping. You could constantly hear the flapping of someone’s wings, weird whispers and noises, and the sound of boots and hooves that made your hair stand on end.

Part I

Part II

________

"I'm sorry?"

You clenched your fists tightly in your pockets, suddenly very much aware Steve could be a way more dangerous creature you portrayed him to be. If the fair folk enjoyed drugs, they could also enjoy all other horrible things humanity invented. What if this man was a sex trafficker? What if he was a rapist? To hell with that law prohibiting faes hurting humans. Looking at all those lowlifes surrounding you, you could barely imagine any of them abiding by any laws at all.

Seeing you raising your defense, the man gave you a cheeky grin, jokingly putting his hands up as if showing you he harbored no ill intentions.

"Don't look at me like that. It's a simple deal: I bring you to a person who might be someone you're looking for, and you give me something valuable in return. Say, your earrings. Do you treasure them?"

His question put you off for a second. Earrings? Yes, you were wearing your favorite ones with pearls today, but they weren't precious. They were made from stainless still, and you bought them for a couple of bucks on sale.

"They're not expensive," you answered, eyeing the guy suspiciously. "Why would you want to trade them for your... services?"

He sent you a charming smile, "What matters to me is that you treasure them. They'd make a lovely amulet once I work on them a little. So what, will you trade them? In return, I will bring you to one person who fits the description of someone you look for."

Oh. All of a sudden, it made sense. Not that the fair folk could live without money in the human world, but they did treasure other things just as much. Maybe this elf was telling you the truth. What did he say before, that fae can't lie, right? Perhaps that was simply it.

Carefully unclasping your earrings, you put them on your palm, watching perfectly round pearls shining under the dim light of the cafe. Yes, you really, really liked them, and many people complimented you when you had worn them to work, but you could do without them. Fulfilling your promise was so much more important than anything you owned.

"Alright," you replied, handing him the earrings, and Steve quickly hid them in the pocket of his faux leather coat. "I'm looking for a man who was sent into an exile after losing in a battle. He was a great warrior once, but he took a wrong decision, and many of the fair folk died."

"It doesn't help," Steve informed you casually. "Half of fallen elves were once great warriors who failed in a battle and were exiled. Anything else?"

"Um, eh, he has a younger brother who's looking for him."

"An average elf has many brothers and sisters."

"Ok, then, well, the one I'm looking for had a knack for mechanical devices."

Finally, the elf gave you a nod, "That's something. Anything else?"

You let out a huff, irritated and tired. Your elven friend gave you very little details, explaining he had to keep the secrecy because many other fae would be happy to get their hands on his brother and execute revenge the moment they found out who he was. But what else could you give to Steve?

"Since my friend is a High elf, I think it's fair to suppose his older brother is also one."

"Ah. That's better. I can work with this. In fact, I know a guy who fits this description perfectly, and I can take you to him right now. Are you sure you're ready?" But before he finished speaking, you were already up, rushing to the waitress with a five dollar bill to pay for the cupcake and ready to go.

Of course, despite trying to forget about all about creatures surrounding you, you couldn't possibly stay here any longer, shivers running down your spine from just one glance at a fairy laying right on the ground, sleeping, his rugged clothes smelling so horribly as if he lived on the streets. Well, perhaps he was, you thought as you impatiently waited for Steve to leave, nervously scratching the gentle skin near the nail on your thumb. You wanted nothing but to run away before you vomited from disgust on the floor, and you felt immensely greatful the moment you two stepped on the cement road outside of the café.

"Thanks," you said, biting your lips and watching the elf smirking as he stretched his long limbs, letting out a soft groan.

Now that you could see him fully, you wondered how tall he was as he was towering above you for a good foot, and his long black coat only added to the impression Steve was way over 6 ft. He appeared painfully skinny, even malnourished, and his bleached hair and sharp features made him look like some sort of 90s model who constantly shot heroin between his fashion shows.

If the waitress handed him some suspicious powder, you'd have no doubts Steve was a drug addict, but seeing him still holding that black disk made you calm down a little. If anything, you also had your pepper spray with you and a pack of salt any fae despised.

"Let's get going," Steve said as if you two were leisurely taking a stroll under the moon, and you winced, painfully aware how insane your little journey was.

But you weren't to back down on your promise when you had a chance to meet the guy who could easily be the one you're looking for. If you were lucky enough, it would all end tonight.

The longer you walked in complete silence, eyes on the old road full of cracks in the cement, the more it felt like you were going somewhere you shouldn't. Maybe the sheer presence of this strange, horrifyingly handsome and at the same time revolting guy was unnerving you, but it could as well be everything you saw in the bar: you were still processing the thought of magic creatures becoming living trash under human influence, and the thought made you want to puke. Why did it turn like that? How could fairies and elves from fairytales become this? Why no one cared to do anything about them?

Well, it's not like people cared about all drug addicts and alcoholics and simply unfortunate ones human world was full of. The realization hit your hard.

Before you succumbed to your misery completely, though, the elf spoke again, "His name is Julius. He was the youngest son of one of the high lords, a knight of the Seelie Court. When he lost to an enemy in a battle, his father sent him in exile, and Julius ended up here. Like most of us, he quickly developed a taste for stimulants, so he's very much not the elven prince you might expect."

You didn't expect anything, actually. Not after seeing fairies mixing cocaine with god knows what right in the café and putting suspicious looking pills in their drinks.

"Remind me again, why are you doing this?" Steve snorted, gazing at you from above.

"For my mother," you replied grimly, looking at several abandoned buildings where a machinery fabric had been once. "My friend agreed to treat her if I helped him find his brother."

"Makes sense," the elf let out a chuckle as if there was something funny about all this, but kept quiet then, and you were grateful to him for it because you couldn't pretend you were in a state for an idle chat.

The night was chilly. Wrapping your scarf tighter around your neck, you wished you could come here during the day when the world would seem a bit friendlier than now, but the elf you met on the street assured you it was better to go at night. Besides, you still had your own life, and no one could replace you at work while you chased after the fair folk. You just hoped it would end well for you. Yes, you were ready to sacrifice yourself if it meant you could save your mother, but you very much preferred not to if you had a choice. You wanted to come back to your boring human life, to the routine you grew used to, and to simple pleasures you could afford instead of going on this wild adventure.

"We're almost here," Steve pointed to the rusted metal door that most likely led to the basement, and you rubbed your cold hands together, mentally preparing yourself. "Don't expect a pretty view."

_________

Yeah, as if you were waiting for something exactly like that.

Part IV

Tags: @finleyjayne @alexakeyloveloki @helenaeisenhower @villanellevi @inlovewiththefictionalcharacters @navegandoaciegas @rosalynshields @sllooney @angrythingstarlight @lookiamtrying @buckysbunny @soleil-dor @stargazingfangirl18 @dillybuggg @literate-lamb @cosicas-cuquis @sarge-barnes-sir @buckybarnesplumwhore @jaysayey @megzdoodle @gotnofucks @lux-ravenwolf @biiskuitx @stupendouslovegardener @melodierin @yeolliedokai @what-is-your-wish @lou-la-lou @gachawipes133 @eralen @magnificantmermaid @lovelydarkdaydream @illyrianprincess @youngdreamer3214

#yandere #steve rogers x reader #steve rogers #dark steve rogers #mcu fanfiction #captain america #dark steve rogers x reader

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streets-in-paradise · 15 days

Text

A Man of Honor - Odysseus x Trojan Princess!Reader

Troy 2004 Oneshot

Requested by @alysinwonderland-at-tea

"Ok ok ok, so..... here's the idea.

Odysseus, with the younger sister of Paris and Hector, like she gets captured because she bought Briesis time to run. She fought off some of the men but couldn't get all of them. Anyway, quite like the movie scene, Agammenon "gives" her to the men to "play with" (throws her to the wolves). But instead of Achilles rescuing her, it's Odysseus. He suggests that hurting her would not be in their best interest because she is the princess of Troy, and if they harm her its gonna be really bad for them. Anyway, the reader falls for him because he's so honorable. Idk man, he seems honorable, and men with honor got me"

Sure, dear!! My twist on the concept is a bit fluffier, but hope you will enjoy it anyways.

Warnings: Kidnap, Agamemnon and Menelaus being creeps, threats and an attempt of sexual assault ( stopped by Odysseus), age gap.

Note: For this i'm pretending he is single, simply because i don't picture Odysseus as a cheater.

Tags: @yerevasunclair

The gathering of the kings celebrating the first greek victory of the war finished abruptly because Agamemnon of Mycenae, supreme commander of the forces, wanted to scold his rebel soldier. Used to act as intermediate between them, Odysseus of Ithaca intended to follow the matter closely. He was the last one leaving the tent, trying to prepare Achilles for the meeting hoping he wouldn't loose his temper again. Sensically suspicious of the situation, he waited outside pretending he cared to talk with the guards of the mycenaean king.

A good amount of them were watching over a girl, likely a spoil from the looting of the temple. Two aspects of that scene got the sharp observational skills of the ithacan king on alert. The first one, knowing that the myrmidon leader would never handle a prisoner of war to a man he often adressed as an old pig. Second, that the escort was too great to watch over her. There were way to many men gathered arround her.

" Don't you all have orders to follow?" He mocked them in a friendly tone. " Just two of you would be enough, she is clearly going nowhere. "

The cleverly delivered callout brought a half smile from her, and in a closer look Odysseus noticed that her eyes were more vivacious than normal for a captive.

There was still fire in her glance, a sign of life.

" The myrmidons warned us to watch out, they say she fought bravely for her freedoom. " One of the mycenaeans informed him. " We brought her for the King, she is the treasure he has choosen."

No flicker of fear in her face as she was hearing her fate, what made Odysseus wonder if she was too brave or completely unaware of the dangers coming at her.

" Two were actually left in charge, the rest are just watching." She commented him. " They won't stop talking about how pretty they find me."

He felt as if he was being invited to share an opinion on the matter, probably being tested by her because she wanted to know if he would hurt her.

" A young slave as beautifull as you must worth more than everything I keep in my tent." He joked in return. " Even if Troy would be sacked tomorrow, like Agamemnon hopes, none of this men would affort to have one like you. They know it, so consider their vulgar admiration a reflection of their powerlessness. "

It wasn't enough to work as comfort, but she didn't mind.

" I don't mind, as long as they won't touch me."

Her pridefullness was out of place, as if she tried to prove she was still weilding some sort of authority she may have had in the past.

" Sadly, I think that's the first thing Agamemnon would want to do." Odysseus informed her, trying to do what he considered was waking her up to the new reality. " ... You were lucky of not being exhibited in front of all the other leaders in the celebration, he likes to brag about his prizes."

The latter comment seemed to have offended her, she even dared to give a few temptative steps in his direction to verbally fight back.

" I'm not a prize, I'm a hostage. " She quickly corrected. " And I'm ready to bargain the terms of my liberation."

The mycenaeans laughed, but Odysseus could tell she was being serious because the fire of her eyes could have burned him alive. Unfortunately, he couldn't keep interrogating her because the men in charge were called to bring her inside.

He watched her following them calmly and couldn't help smiling. Partially, because he wished he could ease such horrible moment for her, but also given how impressed he remained of her attitude. As if she already knew that Agamemnon wanted to see her humilliated, she quickly put together what was left of her honor and dignity walking inside with the grace of a royal.

It was in that moment when the clever king of Ithaca discovered that you, new treasure of the mycenaean king, could be hidding something of importance. After Achilles stormed out of the place he was too angry to acceed any questioning, so his curiosity had to wait a little longer.

During that first encounter you couldn't tell exactly who he was, but you knew he had some sort of authority over men due to how they listened to him. However, his way with words was astonishingly pragmatical. To them, he sounded like a friend making healthy advices before a greater power figure could reprimand them and, to you, like a fair ruler. Never taunting your anger like Achilles did, or threatening you like you later discovered was custom of Agamemnon.

Nightfall was the dealbreaker of your fate, signaled time for the accomplishment of the dark promises he made to you. After having dinner, he would make you give him a bath to later have his way with you. Playing wise with your only advantage to save yourself, you waited untill then to start the negociations.

The king's table had guests, more commanders that you didn't know. When his brother heard that you were the only daughter of King Priam, everything seemed lost. A third leader arrived to hear the very stubborn brothers discuss what would be the most efficient way to make you suffer instead of accepting your more wise proposal of a bargain with your family.

Awareness of his coming silenced their wicked planning, like if they suspected he would have a say against that.

" Odysseus! " Agamemnon saluted him. " Welcome, old friend! "

You recognized the kind man and his friendly smile, paying high that short distraction. The King of Sparta tried to grab you from behind and forcefully sit you on his lap. Reflexes reacted fast and you fought him, but in the scape you accidentally stumbled with the newcomer.

He catched you gently, holding your shoulders so you won't fall.

" Forgive me, ... Odysseus." You inmediately responded, your voice turning slightly sweeter with the pronunciation of his name, then moved away after finding balance. " ... Please, take a seat. I'll get you some roasted meat from King Agamemnon's feast."

He smiled in polite agreement, but the calm enviroment didn't last long.

" GET BACK HERE, TROJAN WHORE!" Menelaus complained, angry because you didn't behaved with the docility he expected. " YOU WILL PAY FOR WHAT YOUR BROTHER DID TO ME! "

You refused to move and swallowed hard, then replied.

" Your wife's choices aren't of my concern, but become more understandable to me with the display of your brutal manners."

Your refined insults amused Agamemnon, who thought that your flamboyant manners were hilarious.

" ... A trojan princess. Can you believe our luck? " He commented to the freshly arrived king. " My brother wants to go first, reparations for his honor. "

Odysseus was frankly horrified by the scene, there was no honor in the sort of justice that Menelaus seeked.

" It's a terrible idea. If you hurt her, this girl could become a symbol even more powerfull than Helen. "

" I told them, but they won't listen. " You interrupted him. " King Menelaus doesn't understand the concept of bargain, perhaps you can explain it to him."

You shouldn't have say that, but the presence of the ithacan made you feel safer as the anger of Menelaus keep growing.

" YOU INSOLENT LITTLE .... "

Odysseus gave him a path on the shoulder right before claiming his sit.

" My friend, calm down! She is just a girl, maybe even young enough to be your daughter. " He minimized your insults for you. " And, unfortunately, she is right. Having her is too riskfull and we can't allow more reckless mistakes. "

You realized he was subtly referencing the fight of Agamemnon and Achilles, what made you stiffle a chuckle in reminder.

" Postpone your vengeance for the right targets. " He concluded, deviating the topic. " You are here to kill Paris, not to take advantage of his little sister. "

The excellently delivered speech was enough to calm him, but not to make him desist.

" Odysseus, you are a good friend, but the use I will give to my brother's slave is not your problem. "

" ... Not yet wed, certainly untouched. " Agamemnon provoked him. " Pretty virgin princess will make for a fine revenge. "

You spat on the ground, a wordless curse, but that only increased the hate of the spartan king.

" I can't wait to taste you ... And tomorrow, I will tell your brother exactly how i had broken you. "

Terrified in the inside, you still won't let him knew it.

" Before you would get to finish bragging the sword of Hector would have already pierced you. " You recalled, as serious as if you would be sentencing him to death. " He wont care about your hurted honor if your sense of justice damages his siblings. He tossed our familiar honor to the sea to save Paris' life once, we are fighting this war because of that. "

Your elocuency was the surprise of the night, the King of Ithaca was very attentive to your words.

" It's true, Paris had no honor proceeding the way he did, but if you force me you give up your right to claim you are the victim here because that's not the justice of an honorable man. " You bravely kept exhorting the spartan king to save yourself. " Your mistreated wife, who not all trojans simpatize with, will win credibility. "

Odysseus began to chuckle, a subtle expression of pride.

" Right again, your highness! " He pointed out. " The ruin of your virtue would unify trojans at the precise moment we are on the edge of loosing Achilles. The Kings should respect you, not even because that would be the action of an honorable man. From the most selfish standpoint, it's still the wisest solution. "

Agamemnon evaluated the advice with disdain. The goal of unifying greeks against a common enemy was an essential part of his plan. Previous attempts of presenting Helen as a victim of kidnap had failed, everyone knew she ran away on her own and the moral approach changed. She was a whore who left her husband, but you were an innocent virgin dragged away from a temple.

A perfect victim, everything in that story highlighted your purity and a direct threat to it could cause a response even more violent than than Paris taking Helen did.

" May you care to suggest us what to do with her then, Odysseus? " He sarcastically critiziced. " Giving her to you, perhaps? I won't fall for your trickery if what you want is fooling me into gifting you a prize that was too fine for Achilles. "

You hide your face using your hair so he won't see your excited reaction to hearing he could want to take you out from that tent.

" Offer her hospitality, show her that we are not savages. " Odysseus simply proposed. " Menelaus should also work on his impersonation of an honorable man wanting his wife back. We are all here claiming to be victims because of him and the control of this narrative gives our army a moral advantage. If he turns Paris into the savior of a frightened Helen escaping the brutality of her husband, this motivation falls apart. An insulted king who demmands justice can't brag revenge forcing himself on the virgin princess captured while she was innocently praying for the salvation of her homeland."

You directed a triumphal smirk to the youngest of the despicable kings, but Odysseus warned you against that with an impercepible glance.

" Do you play any table games, little one? " He asked you right away, resolving for everyone else. " My favorite way of getting to know someone is learning how they think."

You couldn't believe your ears because the kind offer seemed so out of place.

" Table games? After this two were deliverating on who should hurt me first and what would be more painfull, you offer me to play games with you? " You repeated, in disbelief. " You are a strange man, King of Ithaca, ... but quite lovely. "

To your even greater surprise, he even helped the greek servants on settling you a spot where you could be comfortable. The disgusting brothers gave him freedoom of action because they believed he was up to something, a scheme of the kind he often used to save them many times before. They respected his opinions allowing him to treat you kindly so they wouldn't have to do it themselves. Agamemnon suspected he wanted to make you talk for them, but nothing you were saying was of any importance for him.

The trickster king was deceiving them, making them suspect a deeper reason for his comfort of the unlucky, but beautifull princess. To some extent, he was even deceiving himself pretending he would only do it because winning your trust could be usefull, yet you had awakened enough curiosity for it to be a bit personal.

After a while, it became obvious that you enjoyed the company of the smartest leader arround. He was a smoother, more interesting talker than the pigs surrounding you. If you would have been in front of your father's table instead, he would have easily enraptured all the attention of your relatives as he had gained yours. Odysseus ruled a kingdom of poor sailors, but he had travelled everywhere, and he gave you a good moment sharing some of his stories. During the hours he spent there that night, you were able to escape from your sadness even at the moments he wasn't paying direct attention to you.

If that dinner would have taken place in Troy, Paris would have teased you for staring at him for too long while Hector would have scolded you both and warned that significally older man to stay away from you. That was fun to imagine, but you had to remind yourself that he was still your enemy. Perhaps the most dangerous, for how well spoken and handsome he appeared to you. Harder to hate, specially because you couldn't take your eyes off him.

Before leaving to get rest in his own tent, his farewell to you was a kiss on your knuckes that showed he still respected you as a princess. It made you blush furiously, mostly because you thought that kind of consideration was lost to you arround greeks.

Menelaus noticed your reaction and, as his brother accompanied the king outside, let you know of that.

" Turns out you do like older men." He commented, in a falsely cassual tone. " Is that how your brother got my wife to spread her legs for him, or only his looks did the work?"

Everything he said was always so repulsive, you seriously couldn't imagine how Helen managed to stay by his side for so long.

" You are not bad looking, for a man of your age. Neither is your brother ... You are just horrible people. " Was your honest reply. " Paris has seduced married women everywhere, but all the others stayed with their husbands because they gave them reasons. Fear of death was all Helen had with you, and when she lost it, she left. "

The answer surprised him, perhaps because your explanation of what happened resembled nothing he had ever heard.

" You have a strange wisdown, hard to explain in such young girl. I'm hearing you speak so lightly of things I never cared to see. " He oddly praised you, then sipped more of his wine. " When I was a child, our mother cheated on our father with our uncle. Agamemnon, being the eldest, had more awareness of what was happening. Ask him about what Atreus did to the cheaters and you will find out we are not so horrible. "

" Being less horrible than your father is not the great, comforting excuse you think it is. " You warned him in return. " A good man would have came here peacefully, presented his complaint in the city's council, and maybe ask for a private talk with his wife offering her actual reasons that could make her want to go back home. You are an evil man posing as a victim, and your thirst for vengeance will bring your doom. "

Dark chucking interrumpted you, Agamemnon was back inside.

" Nobody told us the princess of Troy was a seer! " He mocked you. " I have another prophecy for you: tomorrow, I will take over your city and my brother will kill yours. "

" You don't know Hector, or how far he can go to protect his family." You insisted one last time. " Your brother is a fool, he will get himself killed trying to kill Paris. "

" Hector is a man of honor. " Menelaus pointed out. " He will understand that Paris had to die."

You directed him a cold look, as if life would have started to abandon him.

" His honor won't protect you from his rage of brother. "

It was the last time you spoke to him, and the last moment you saw him alive. Exactly as you warned, the king perished by the hand of Hector, who saved Paris while he was begging for his life. You never imagined it would happen so fast, because you weren't prophetizing. Knowing your family so well made you suspect it would be a matter of time untill the rage of Menelaus would be forever stopped by your protective eldest brother.

Still, they weren't there to save you from the rage of brother displayed by the mycenaean king. You were all he had to damage Hector, since even the result of the battle turned against him. The only pain he could inflict on him that night was hurting you, but he decided he wasn't going to be the man doing it.

Odysseus noticed your absense on the tent during the gathering of the war council, at first thinking it was due to the needed secrecy that the discussion of strategy required.

" Where is she? "

The answer Agamemnon had for him overpassed any expected cruelty coming from him.

" I gave her to the men ... They need some amusement after today. "

Careless for the thoughts of anyone else on that meeting, he stormed out searching for you. It was clear that the King of Kings wanted to unleash over you a vengeance even worse than the one Menelaus considered before.

More humilliating than warming the bed of a king was becoming the whore of his troops.

Odysseus was guided by the sound of the complict mocks of the very same men who one day before observed you as some unattainable luxury item. Temporally forgetting their looses, they were cheerfully bragging on how they were about to feast on you.

Despite you presented a good fight, they were too many. Their hands roaming you with desperation and trying to tear your clothes off in the process.

" STOP, YOU FOOLS! " The strong voice of the King of Ithaca interrupted the horrible scene. " YOUR KING HAS SENT YOU TO DO HIS VENGEANCE FOR HIM BECAUSE HE KNOWS THAT WHOEVER TOUCHES HER WILL BE A DEAD MAN! "

A few of them reacted, but two were still holding you and Odysseus spoke directly to them.

" Do you even know who this woman is? " He warned them. " She is the Princess of Troy! Do you want to be the next ones Hector will slaughter ? LOOK AT WHAT HE DID TO US TODAY JUST TO SAVE HIS COWARD BROTHER! He killed Menelaus, he broke the pact ... Imagine what he would do to you for raping his sister. "

They tossed you to the ground, sudden fear making them act as if they would have just heard a deathly curse had spread among them.

When Odysseus picked you up, you had no more tears left to cry. Or at least you believed so, untill you clinged to him as if your life depended on it.

He took you to his small tent in the little corner of the greek camp he ruled. His own men seemed weirded by the sudden arrival, but followed his orders of not disturbing you.

Your spirits were even more broken than your body, and the safety you temporally found in him made it hard for you to separate. He understood it, and craddled you by the fire while silently hearing your sobbing.

" He is a monster. " You were saying between your crying. " He did this to me in honor of his brother. "

He guessed it, and he cursed himself for not thinking ahead of him.

" Honor? There is no honor in any of this." He commented in a comforting tone, caressing the top of your head. " Don't worry, beautifull. You are safe now."

He inmediately regretted to have adressed you in a way that could be very uncomfortable after what you have gone through, despite he didn't mean it in the same way of your attackers.

" I'm so sorry, I shouldn't have ... "

You raised your face so your eyes would find his for the first time since the arrival.

" It's allright, I know. " You calmed him, tears still flowing. " Crazy, isn't it? When you say it I don't feel the danger. "

Softer by the blow, burning slowly, but the fire in your eyes was still there.

" How does it make you feel? "

Despite the pain, you still had a shy smile for him.

" Good, but strange ... I never felt like that before. "

As if you attempted to thank him with the only thing you judged a man would want from you in that hole of doom, you gave him a rushed peck on the lips.

" Thank you for saving me, you are a man of honor. "

Even hurt as you were, he found you beautiful to the point of cruelty. The brush of your soft lips made him tremble, but he replied with a chaste kiss on the top of your forehead.

" No need for rewards, princess. I did what i had to do. "

Noticing that you were finaly calm, he stood up and peeked out of the tent to command orders from its entrance.

" Eurylochus! Get this woman the means for a proper bath, she will wash herself. Send some men to roam the camp and find her decent clothes. She is our temporary guest now. If Agamemnon has something to say about that, tell him I would rather expose us to an argument with him than face the rage of Hector ... Understood? "

By the time his attention was back at you, he discovered you already self tending your wounds with water from a basin and the nearest cloth you found.

" Resourceful girl ... Mind if I help you out? "

#troy 2004 #troy #odysseus #sean bean #odysseus x reader #sean bean x reader

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