#awl x reader

[awlimagines]

How they respond to hearing you have a crush on them.

CELIA/CECILIA

Cecilia overhears Marlin grumbling to Vesta one morning about you. Though she knows it's wrong, she pauses on the stairs to listen in. He is complaining about how obvious you are in having a crush on Ceci. Marlin doesn’t think you’re a good fit for her. You distract her from work and aren’t good enough with nothing but a run-down farm to your name. Vesta laughs and says she likes your sincerity and determination. She thinks you’d be a perfect fit for Cecilia with how much progress you made on the farm in such a short time. Ceci’s face flushes at the thought; it feels like an impossible dream to think you would like her. Why would you choose her? You were close with the glamorous, outgoing Molly and accomplished young Lumina. Not to mention the last time you met, Cecilia had unloaded about an arranged marriage and her misgivings. The next time you see Cecilia, she seems hesitant to speak with you and avoids meeting your eyes. Cecilia nervously laughs when you ask what’s wrong and confesses what she overheard this morning between Marlin and Vesta. You confirm that you do have feelings for her. You were doing your best to be discreet since Cecilia had the arranged marriage date coming up, and you wanted the best for her. She quickly assures you that she has the same feelings and would always choose you over anyone else.

CODY/GORDY

Gordy is surprised when Gustafa lets slip you have a crush on him. Gustafa quickly backtracks and asks that Gordy doesn’t let you know. He was told the secret in confidence, but Gustafa thought Gordy and you would be great together. Gordy gives the thought serious consideration over the next couple of days. His work has always consumed his mind rather than love. As he worked on sorting through his feelings on this information, Gordy naturally became more attentive to observing you when you spoke with him. You didn’t seem unaware of this new focus. You blushed as the large man’s purple eyes bore into your own. Gordy realizes he has had more inspiration and motivation since you arrived in the valley. The sculpture outside his house is improving as Gordy spends time with you, and he enjoys your moments together. Is this the love that Gustafa sings about? Gordy decides to explore where these feelings lead. He starts to prolong conversations with you when he sees you. Gordy doesn’t want to rush through his feelings for you, so he can one day express them adequately with his art.

DARYL

He overhears Rock complaining to Lumina about why anyone, especially you, would have a crush on Daryl. He just doesn’t get it. Daryl had heard the term throughout his school years but never paid it much thought. He couldn’t understand why people were so wrapped in liking someone and made a note to research a ‘crush’ in more detail at the lab. A crush was a bit more than just liking someone Daryl discovered. Instead, it is an intense and usually passive infatuation. All valuable and reliable information ended with the dictionary’s definition. Daryl’s interest peeked. He wasted no time in confronting you about your crush and that he wished to observe the physiological systems at play. You blinked in surprise, shocked by the sudden request but agreed. He quickly identified that blushing and sweaty hands occurred alongside dilated pupils. You had an increased heart rate, but he could not get an accurate baseline read as it spiked each time he tried. Daryl noticed you tripped over your words with him and not with others in the valley. Daryl only needed to discover why his lab felt warmer and his stomach tight when you were around.

FLORA

Flora is flattered when she hears you have a crush on her. She had never given much thought to matters of infatuation or love. Flora likes the idea of one day getting married and having children, but her career seemed more pressing after school. Your crush helped explain how you made so much time to help at the site with a farm to run. Flora spends a few weeks working through her feelings. The last thing she wants to do is act rashly on impulse. She is uncertain if she feels love or infatuation for you. Flora enjoys your company. She wonders where you are and if you’re okay when you are late or don’t arrive at the dig site. Could this be the start of affection? She had many crushes of her own when she was a young girl. They seemed so long ago Flora wasn’t sure of her feelings, and all the pondering hadn’t helped. She would like to focus on you and see what caused her indecision. Flora soon invites you to dinner at the cafe to spend time together outside work.

GUSTAFA

You were sitting by his yurt, humming along to the chords Gustafa strummed. You reflected on how close you had gotten to Gustafa. You never expected it from the brief pointing out Takakura did. After all, Gustafa was a traveling musician. Who knew how long he would stick around here? His playing felt so relaxing to stop and listen to as you struggled. The melodies he played were like a spell to lift your troubles for snatches of time before resuming your responsibilities once more. 

“What’d you think?” Gustafa’s voice roused you from thought. 

“I like you.” 

You watched his eyebrows shoot up in surprise from behind his glasses as you froze in wide-eyed horror. That was not what you meant to say. Mortified, you hurriedly tried to explain. You had a sinking feeling as he tugged the wide brim of his pointed hat down to hide his face further. Gustafa softly explained that your confession made things easier for him. He’s had a crush on you for a while but was worried about you not feeling the same. Gustafa asked if you’d like to meet with him for a drink at the bar that evening.

LUMINA

Lumina felt frustrated when she discovered you had a crush on her. She was obvious in dropping hints of her crush on you. At least, she thought she had been. How could she make it more clear? Lumina was scared to confess. What if she was wrong and you only thought of her as a friend? Or worse, like a sister. No, she would much rather you confess first. It needed to be before Aunt Romana found out you were who she was pining for and got involved. But how? Lumina’s eyes widened as she had a brilliant idea. You said something interesting the other day that could help move things along. The next time you came by, Lumina mentioned she had been thinking of how you didn’t know how to play an instrument. It was one of the reasons you liked to listen to her play. Lumina gazed off to the side and shuffled her feet as she offered to teach you. She was thrilled when you enthusiastically agreed to lessons. Lumina found chances to ‘accidentally’ brush hands or correct your placement as you sat squeezed together on the piano bench. Each of your blushes felt like she was inching closer to one of you admitting your feelings.

MARLIN/MATTHEW

Marlin returns to the house after speaking to you about Cecilia turning into Vesta in his most recent dream. Ceci greets him at the door with a huge grin and a sparkle in her eyes. Marlin froze in shock as she asked what you talked about. He mumbled something about hybrid crops. Marlin had barely told you and certainly didn’t want to share his dream with either of them. Cecilia let out a disappointed sigh in response. She was so sure you had confessed. Nonplussed, Marlin asked what she was talking about. Vesta says it's because you obviously like him a great deal when Ceci hesitates to answer. He grumbles that they must be mistaken; you’re that nice to everyone. His sister shakes her head, telling him he should watch you closer if he thinks that. Marlin watches you more as you pass by their farm. He doesn’t see anything different at all as you wave towards them. Marlin headed to the cafe with his hands shoved in his pockets. He had foolishly gotten his hopes up listening to Cecilia and Vesta. Marlin hoped a drink would help. He didn’t expect to see you selling from a stall. It stung to see you smile at Gordy as you passed over some flowers. He was about to turn and leave when your eyes met. Your radiant smile when you met his eyes made him realize Vesta was right. You didn’t give a smile like that to everyone.

MUFFY/MOLLY

She’s heard this before about prior guys, and nothing ever came of it. So, Molly does her best not to get her hopes up. She will not confront you but continues to act the same as before. Molly’s teasing and flirting are not limited to you as Molly continues the occasional date with city boys. She comes to you for support and a shoulder to cry on with each disastrous result. Eventually, you’re frustrated enough to tell her to stop. Molly shouldn’t keep entertaining guys that aren’t good enough for her. YOU like her and have for a while now and would treat her like the goddess she is. You avoid looking at Molly while trying to get your blush under control from such a confession. When the silence drags on, you peek at Molly to see her reaction. The tears in her green eyes cause you to panic as you fumble to comfort her and apologize. Molly brushes you off as she smiles through her tears. She was just surprised you had such strong feelings for her. Molly was scared to get her hopes up, but to hear you confess made her so happy she couldn’t stop the tears of relief. Her eyes crinkle with a giant smile as you promise this is the first and last time you’ll make her cry.

NAMI

Nami realizes she has a crush on you long before she finds out it goes both ways. At first, Nami couldn’t figure out her feelings. She traveled around so much that she didn’t usually make close connections with others. The valley had been different, and she’d stayed too long to leave at this point. Nami should have left the first day you arrived. She was proud of how great she had hidden her growing feelings or thought she was. Nami felt a bit disappointed when you left to continue your day.  After watching her parents' relationship fall apart as a child, she had trouble trusting there were good ones. Galen and Nina had shown her that love could easily carry on for years. Nami wanted that. However, each time she thought to confess, her doubts would overwhelm her. When you admitted your feelings, Nami felt she could be honest too.

ROCK

“Are you sure you’re not tired? You’ve been running through my-”

“Yeah, I am tired. Your dog is such a sore loser when he loses races to me. I’m glad someone understands how taxing that is.” Rock cut off your cheesy pickup line rattling about his day on your farm. You thought this would be the easiest way to say you liked him. You could brush it off as a joke at the worst. You never expected he would interrupt you before you could finish. At least he was happy you sympathized with him, so it wasn’t a complete miss. 

“Do you know CPR? Because-”

“Nah, Dr. Baddoch tried to tell me, but it seemed like a lot to remember. And he said you’d have to do compressions until a professional arrived. Do you know how far off he lives? I think it’s better left to someone else.” 

Rock was driving you to frustration. Was he being this difficult on purpose? You seriously doubted it, but he foiled each pickup line. 

“I bet you dinner that-”

“Dinner sounds great. We can skip the bet and just to you winning. What did you plan on-” You cut him off by pressing your lips to his. If he wouldn’t stay quiet, then you’d make sure he found out another way.

[myunghology]

࿐ i thought i had you figured out.

— ✦ leo tsukinaga x gn! reader. angst-ishh i don't know. it wasn't meant for angst but it's kinda sad. set before reader and leo graduates, readers family is mentioned to be living abroad; leo confesses to reader.

“what about you? what are you planning to do in the future?” leo asks [name], a good distance between the two sitting on a bench; turning his head to look at them, only to see that they were looking at the moon while they were also looking for an answer.

the wind softly blows their hair, making the ginger look at them with awe, if anyone saw how he was looking at [name], they would instantly know that he had something for them.

“im.. im not sure yet.” they say hesitantly, still not turning their head back at the male, he smiles at the view of their side profile, but then he speaks up yet again. “you're beautiful, you know that, [name]?”

they scoff, but before they could even reply to leo's comment, he starts yet again. “can i say what i want us to be in our future?”

“go for it.” they say, finally turning back to leo, while he smiles, looking away from them. “don't look at me. it's embarrassing.” he says, right before clearing his throat.

“i know i can't force you to do anything, but even after we graduate, i want you to stay with me, by my side. i don't want us to go our seperate ways just because we graduated. you've seen me before when i was at my lowest, it's hard to be alone.

and no— im not trying to use that as blackmail to make you stay. honestly..? i guess it's to say it's uncool of me, or even shameless. i don't want you to feel like you have to be with me just because i asked you to, or because you're worried about me. you shouldn't have to stay just for that.

you could quit doing the shit you're doing here in yumenosaki if you want to take care of your family, since they live abroad. no one would criticize you for a choice like that.

but maybe i will admit that there's a small part of myself wanting you to stay, even if it's for a selfish reason. it's funny to say because we only met like what.. in our first year? but i got attached to you quickly. you and sena were one of the first people i got to be friends with.

but i guess you just stuck out to me. i love both you and sena— but yours is somewhat in a different way. i don't love you like a sibling, i don't love you like a friend, nor like parent or child, but it's true that i do love you.

it's funny, no? i caught feelings for you so easily. and now we're about to graduate.. and im only confessing now. we even adopted a cat together we found on the streets on our first year.

everytime i saw you a struck of inspiration came to me, it made me want to write everywhere, but knowing you'd get mad, i didn't. there was one thing i noticed they all had in common; that they were all love songs. embarrassing.. right?

im sorry this confession was so sudden. it's selfish and i don't want to get in the way of your future. but i just.. hope you know id wait for you, no matter how long it takes. that's just my pride talking though.

if you don't love me back, then it's fine. even if i look stupid for believing all of the signs you sent me, thinking that you liked me. but you can't blame me, right? you know im gullible.”

[name] starts to tear up, but then shakes their head, sighing and giving out a smile. “and i thought you had me figured out, leo. maybe you are stupid, but you're stupid for even doubting that i didn't like you— no, that's not the word. you're stupid to even doubt that i don't love you.”

they wipe the tears on their face while leo turns back to face them; “hey.. don't cry.” he laughs, wiping their tears off their face for them, while they start to laugh as well.

“how are you not in tears right now?” they ask through laughter, sniffling. “im just built different.” he shrugs it off, taken aback when [name] pulls him into a hug, burying their head in his neck.

the moon was silently shining down on the pair, illuminating their little moment.

[ ©myunghology ; ok guys bye. *cries myself to sleep* ]

[barbieaemond]

And all the roses turn to black

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x reader

Warnings: angst, implied smut, fingering

Author’s note: I have no idea what this is. It just came to me like this lol

Word count: 686

taglist: @zae5 @multyfangirl @chompchompluke

The coin twists and turns, and you with it, waiting to see if you will go to bed with regret or remorse. They have been merging for some time; it is hard to draw the boundaries between one or the other, between what is right and what is wrong.

The anarchy of your heart dictates different laws. All it takes is a fresh bouquet of roses on your bedside table to get you over the boundaries. White roses, precisely, not blue, not to be too obvious.

"I hate to break it to you, but any kind of rose is…quite plain."

“Precisely how my intentions shall be: plain.”

“They’re orders, not intentions. I shouldn’t owe you anything more than my loyalty.”

“That is loyalty.”

“The Gods may beg to differ.”

“I don’t think I care.“ he had swallowed your useless grievances with a kiss that dug into you like a claw, and you had let him cut you openly, you let him carve his law like an awl in stone, welcoming each groove, blowing your obedience into his mouth, swearing on his name again and again as you came undone beneath him.

With each rose found in your rooms, a new oath muffled on sweaty sheets and on his ruthless mouth. Ruthless in words and bites, in kisses, in the way his tongue draws arabesques on the swollen skin between your legs, in how he slips inside your drenched flesh as if slipping a ring on his finger. Just like the one he wears, proudly displaying the seal of his noble house.

The same one you had seen twirling between his fingers that morning when you were walking in the gardens with your husband. He had seen you and fucked you from that distance. You felt it.

Inside, you had bent over on the grass, in front of your husband, with the sun beating hard on your naked limbs as the Prince grabbed your hips and thrust harder, spilling another sacred oath from your throat.

“I thought of making love to you this morning.”

“Where? In the garden? With your husband watching?”

“Yes.

“And then what?”

“And then it was all I could think about.”

“‘Tis not what I asked.”

“I did not do it.”

“Good.”

“I hate someone else touching me. Including myself.” hunger clouded his eye and then you were panting, arching your back as he slipped two fingers between your wet lips. “Do you see what you did to me?” you panted next to his ear, feeling his hot cheek against yours and the low groan hissed through his teeth as he bit your jaw. “I loathe my own body when you’re not inside me.” you said, cursing his name as he slid a third finger “You turned me into a vestige.”

You spin the coin one last time and you’re out of your room. He’s sitting by the fire, unbothered as you step in front of him. The only sign that tells you he’s not transmuted into stone is the light raising of his chest.

“No roses?”

No answer. Only a glance up before returning to the flames.

“I know what happened. Lucerys is dead.”

Aemond looks up, his eye is peaceful. A malignant peace the Gods will curse him for.

“Why are you hiding in here?”

“I am not.” he says “I’m sparing my family.”

“Of what?”

“My lack of regret.” the words do not come out of his mouth, but from some haunted place where a maimed child swore revenge on and on, screamed it so much that he’d lost his voice, so he carved it into his flesh and the retribution had finally come, mangling his nephew in bits of bones swallowed by the sea.

“Don’t spare me.” You say sitting on his lap, as at the altar of your own.

“This means war.” he says tilting his chin until he’s breathing through your lips “Your husband shall be willing to go back to the West and call his banners.”

“Indeed.”

“And where will you be?”

“Where my loyalty lies. Until all the roses turn to black.”

PART II

[minaturefics]

Alive & Alight

Request/prompt from @tolkien-fantasy: Aragorn or Eomer x Reader but the reader is a disabled girl who can't ride horses because of her illnesses, so she becomes a leatherworker who makes saddles instead because that's the closest she can get to working with horses. She gets commissioned by Elrond/Theoden to make Brego or Hasufel a saddle and they fall head over heels for her.

A/N: It's... finally here... idk why I even try to limit myself to <3k words when things just always overflow. I tried to keep the disability vague, and based it on my understanding from a relation of mine. If anything comes off as problematic, please lmk. Hope you all enjoy it!

Eomer x disabled!Reader

Fem reader

Content warnings: Non-graphic/detailed mentions of chronic pain

5.5k words

---

The evening sun streamed through the windows into the workshop, casting long rectangles of orange across the workbenches. The sweet, earthy scent of leather lingered in the air above the sharp tang of metal. You rocked the head knife, slicing through the buttery leather. Pain shot through your body and the blade clattered to the table. 

Across the room, Deormund looked up from his work, a frown on his face. His dark blonde hair was pulled up in a haphazard bun and stray strands brushed the top of his shoulders. He was burly and stout, but his brown eyes were gentle. “Girl, are you hurting again?”

“I’m alright, sir.” You stretched and shifted in your seat. “I just want to get started on this saddle before we finish for today.”

He narrowed his eyes at you and shook his head. “You’ve had enough.”

“But—”

“There is no nobility in unnecessary suffering, girl.” He laid his awl down and crossed the room. “Come, you should rest.” He ushered you over to a small table in the corner and lifted the cloth covering a basket of bread. “I’ll finish up the cutting.”

You tore off a piece of bread and stared out the window. Horses trotted by, their heads bobbing and their tails flicking. How beautiful they were, with their braided manes and glossy coats. You eyed the riders, just some simple merchants riding back to their villages, and your chest tightened. If only you were able to ride, if only your body did not ache so. 

Your eyes wandered to the plains just visible through the thatched roofs. Oh, to ride unhindered through the grass, to feel the sting of the wind, to go wherever your heart desired. You sighed and comforted yourself with the knowledge that you still had the pleasure of working with horses in your craft. You could make them beautiful saddles, comfortable for both animal and rider, could see your work on the backs of the most noble horses.

Voices approached the workshop and your eyes drifted to the entrance.

“Uncle, this is unnecessary.”

“Eomer, it is time for a new saddle.”

“I do not see what is wrong with my own.”

“It is… plain. Future kings do not ride on unadorned saddles.”

Your eyes met your mentor’s and your heart sped up. The prince and the king? You tossed the half eaten bread back in the basket and replaced the cloth just as they entered the workshop. They were dressed in their formal tunics, the gold embellishments glinting against the rich green velvet. Theoden was grinning, but Eomer’s lips were pressed in a hard line. 

“Your highness,” Deormund tugged his dirty apron off and bowed deeply. 

You forced yourself to stand, wincing as you did so. You managed a short curtsey before the dull throb of pain began to grow. 

Theoden gestured at the rickety chair. “Please, sit. I understand that you suffer from an illness.”

Eomer’s eyes drifted over to you and your breath hitched in your throat. He seemed to fill the room in a way that was not evident when you saw him from afar. He was tall, taller than his uncle, and his broad frame seemed to make the room smaller. His gaze fixed you where you stood and for a moment all you could do was stare back into his hazel eyes.

You glanced away, willing your heart to slow, as you lowered yourself back down.

What were they doing at the workshop? It was rare of the king and his family to personally visit merchants and craftsmen. Was it the saddle you had made for one of the Marshals of the Riddermark? Were they dissatisfied? Your fingers twitched on your lap, wishing you had one of your tools to fiddle with. 

“I’ve come to convince my nephew to have a new saddle made.” Theoden shot a look at Eomer. “I thought perhaps if he saw the level of craftsmanship that went into the saddles you make he would be won over.”

Deormund nodded and walked over to the bench where the half-finished saddles sat. “These are all hand-carved by our young lady over there.”

Eomer’s eyes met yours again, intense but with a spark of curiosity in them. He joined Deormund by the bench and cast his eyes over the saddles. You fidgeted with your thin apron. Would they be to his liking? To have one of your saddles on the horse of the prince, the future king of Rohan… It would be an honour of the highest regard, one of the greatest compliments to your work and skill. You swallowed as you watched his face. 

His brows slowly relaxed and his jaw loosened. He reached a hand out and traced the ridges and grooves of the pattern. “These tell a story,” he muttered, voice full of wonder. “A woman’s journey across the plains, an encounter with another, injured. Caring, healing, building a home together.” He looked at the next one. “And this, of a young boy and his father, from travelling merchants to wealthy shop owners.”

His eyes cut to yours and you nodded. “Horses are the centre of our people. I wanted to pay homage to the way they serve us, the way we work with them. They carry more than just our bodies on their backs, they carry our lives, our stories.”

He held your gaze, his hazel eyes alight with something you could not name. 

“Alright,” he said, eyes never wavering from you. “A new saddle, I’ll agree to it. But only if it’s you.”

-

Eomer paced his rooms, a frown on his face and his hands behind his back. Candles burned around the space, casting flickering shadows on the walls. The air was filled with Eowyn’s perfume, lavender and some Gondorian flower he could not place, and under that, something familiar and comforting that reminded him of their parents.

The last few days had brought back memories he did not know he had.

He had spoken to you about his life as part of your work for the saddle. The memories and stories had come slow and stilted at first, but encouraged by your soft eyes and smiles, they began to unspool and unfurl. His mother’s hands covering his as they stroked the horse, his father’s booming voice as he acted bedtime stories out, racing Eowyn on ponies across the fields. 

You had sat there, hands folded on your lap, still and attentive, listening. Once again, he had been struck by how beautiful you were. When he had walked into the workshop and set eyes on you, his stomach had fluttered and flipped. Framed by the window, illuminated by the evening sun, you looked glorious, at home among the leather and tools. 

“Daydreaming again, brother?” Eowyn said as she walked into the room and settled on the cushioned bench. 

He clicked his tongue at her. “Do not tease me so. I was not daydreaming, I was… thinking.”

Eowyn snickered. “About the young lady who makes the saddles?”

His cheeks burned and he turned away from his sister. “She is… intriguing.”

“How so?”

“Have you seen her work? It is a marvel how she manages to bring stories to life on the leather. Her carving is so intricate, it is nearly unbelievable.” He spun to face her. “And when she speaks of her work, she comes alive, shines almost, like the Entwash on a summer’s day. And when she smiles, I —”

His sister laughed. “Brother, I dare say you are smitten.”

He grumbled and looked out of the window. Could anyone fault him, truly? He was surprised there was not a line of suitors lingering outside the workshop or your home. 

Homes and shops dotted the hill of Edoras, flowing down from Meduseld. Little squares of light vanished into the distance and darkness and he gazed out wondering which one of those squares might have been yours. Were you whiling your evening away on your own, or was there another beside you, holding your hand, enjoying your smiles?

His stomach clenched strangely at that thought and he whirled around to face Eowyn. “How goes your project with the healing houses?”

“Well enough. The building you have allotted us is more than sufficient. Our apothecaries are not as well stocked, but the women are well trained.” Her eyes softened with understanding. “Uncle has told me she suffers from a chronic hurt. There is not much we can do, but I will be able to brew a tonic to ease the pain a little.”

“I would be most grateful,” he muttered. He sighed and joined his sister on the bench. “I am seeing her again in a few days. She has sketched out a design, I think. She wishes for me to look over it.” 

“Are you nervous to see her?”

He scowled at her. “I am not nervous. I am simply… eager to see what she has come up with.”

“And I suppose your now regularly washed and oiled hair has no relation to your meetings with her?” Eowyn bit back a smile.

Eomer’s eyes darted back to the window. “Nothing at all.”

-

The late afternoon sun poured over Edoras and the thatched roofs below you gleamed gold. A cool wind swept through the small garden, tossing your hair and tickling the back of your neck. You leaned back against the cushions spread on the stone bench, idly playing with the glass vial he had given you, while he looked over your sketch.

“I feel as though something is missing,” he muttered. “Here, in the later sections.”

You leaned over and peered at the sheets of paper. It depicted the victory at the Black Gate, his reunion with a healed Eowyn, his return back to Edoras. The last panel showed him with his uncle and sister, standing in front of The Golden Hall.“I have never been to Gondor or seen Minas Tirith. Is there something wrong with the way I’ve drawn them?”

“I am not sure. Perhaps there is some part else that also needs to be included.” He handed the parchment back to you. “But the earlier panels are perfect. My parents, my family… you have brought their memory alive.”

You gave him a smile as your fingers tightened around the paper. You looked at the figurines, at the vistas and buildings you had drawn. “I can start on the first few sections. Then perhaps in time what is missing will come to you.”

“May I keep them? Reviewing them might help, I think. And I can show Eowyn as well.” You nodded and he rolled the papers up.

He hummed and looked out at the fields. You followed his gaze and tried not to focus on how his knee was pressed against yours. You could feel the warmth coming off him, could smell his scent of leather and sandalwood.

You thought back to the last couple of weeks, to the hours spent talking to him. There was a fire to Eomer, a passion that seemed to overflow from him, and when he told his stories, he told them with a fervour that roused your spirit. It was no wonder then, that he was one of the Marshals of the Riddermark, no wonder how so many were willing to leave with him when he was exiled. 

But there was also a softness to him, a tenderness underneath it all. In the quiet of the evening, by the light of the fire, he had told you stories of his parents and his sister. How they used to terrorise the servants in the house, how they would spend time braiding each other’s hair, how their parents would take them around the villages and towns, acquainting them with their people.

It seemed that he drifted closer to you with each visit. The first time he had sat opposite you, his heavy desk like a wall between the both of you. But soon he sat in the next armchair over, and then some visits later he chose to share the cushioned bench by the window with you. The front of his knees would graze yours, or his hand would rest just a reach away.

You had heard from the gossiping maids at Meduseld that he was yet to find a partner. How was it possible that a man like him did not have countless betrothal offers and arrangements? For a time it seemed as though there were always princesses or noble ladies coming to visit Edoras, especially after Eowyn’s marriage to Faramir.

They were all regal and graceful and soft.

Eomer cleared his throat and turned back to you. “My lady, I was wondering if you had some time to spare after this.”

“I do. Would you like to discuss the design more? Or maybe look over the different leathers that we have?”

“No, ah, I was hoping you’d like to join me for dinner.” His cheeks tinged pink. 

“Dinner?” Your finger tightened around the vial. What a strange thing to ask of you. It was not very common for the royal family to invite mere craftsmen and merchants for dinner. Perhaps he was just being polite since the evening was drawing near and he had taken up any time you would have had to prepare a meal.

It had been a long day; carving in the morning and sketching in the afternoon. Your body ached, and you longed for some rest. But Eomer’s eyes were so wide and hopeful, his slight smile so shy and boyish. “I… Um…”

“I understand if perhaps, I am aware you have been quite busy today, if another evening, or morning, would suit you better…”

You smiled at him. “Perhaps in a day or two? I am quite weary today.”

“Of course, of course.” He nodded, a smile growing on his face. “Simply let me know and I shall clear my schedule.”

-

Eomer fiddled with the reins in his hand as the carriage moved towards the small grove by the Snowbourn. There was still an hour or two before sunset and the river glittered in the strong sun. The air was cool and carried the fresh scent of dirt and grass, and subtly, from you just beside him, a smell of cloves from the balm you used on your muscles and joints.

It had been over a week since he last saw you. Your message had come the day after he saw you, deferring the dinner invitation, citing some urgent work that had come up, and he had been left anxious that you had changed your mind. He nearly drove Eowyn mad with his questions and doubts, and more than once she had chased him out of Edoras, telling him to go for a long ride. 

But then your message had come a few mornings later, and he was left scrambling to prepare what he had envisioned in his mind. You had mentioned before how much you adored horses and how much you wished you could ride. It had been some months since you were last out of the city, when you and Deormund went to source some leather from the neighbouring town. 

He had made certain to load the carriage seat with cushions, to bring a basket of fresh berries and cheese, to plan a path near enough to the city should you wish to return, but far enough that his horse could run unhindered. Everything to make you comfortable, everything just so he could spend some time with you away from the chatter and noise of Edoras.

Just you and him, alone. 

He froze in his seat. Was it not proper to do such a thing? Was there some parent he needed to ask permission from? Or even then, were you willing to be alone with him in such a setting? Bema, he should have thought about it more, but from the moment you had accepted his invitation that afternoon his mind had run away with plans and ideas. 

He fought the urge to glance at you beside him. Did you simply accept his plan because he was a prince? Perhaps you did not actually wish to come out with him, perhaps you simply felt obliged. Eowyn has berated him more than once about his forwardness and rashness. Perhaps he had overstepped without even realising. 

“My lord?” you asked, and he allowed his eyes to dart to you. “Is anything the matter? You have gone stiff and quiet.”

“I was simply thinking.”

“What troubles you?”

He tugged on the reins and slowed the carriage to a halt. He turned in the narrow seat to face you. “My lady, do you truly wish to be here?” You frowned but he continued. “I do not wish for you to feel obligated to… to… accept my invitations simply because I am a prince. I would not wish to —”

You reached for his hand but your fingers curled away. You shook your head. “I feel no such thing. I assure you, I… I do wish to be here.”

His heart sped up. “Well, I am… yes, I… I am glad to hear it.”

“Now, let us go. I wish to stop by the river.” You grinned at him and his chest loosened. “But perhaps… we could go faster?” Your smile turned shy and you glanced away. “I relish the rush of wind in my face, the sight of the land hurtling by.”

“Then perhaps you should take the reins.” The worn leather sat in his open palm. 

You reached out, your fingertips grazing his skin, delicate and feather-light. Your hand curled around the reigns and your smile turned sly. “Are you certain? Deormund never lets me with the reins for fear of his life.”

He laughed. “My lady, I have much experience with Eowyn’s wild steering. I beg you, do not hold back. Go as fast as you please.”

You tugged on the reins and clicked your tongue, and before he knew it, he was thrown back in his seat as you laughed above the roaring wind. 

-

You knocked the mallet against the decorative stamp, shifting ever so slightly across the smooth leather. Mountains materialised over the plains, rising above the ocean of grass. You sighed, thinking about the evening out with Eomer racing wild across the fields. It had been exhilarating, the trundle of the carriage, nearly flying with the speed of Firefoot. And afterwards, windswept and giddy, he had taken you home. 

You thought of how he lingered in the low light of the lantern hanging by your front door, his hair a mess and his cheeks flushed. How he wished you goodnight, his voice low and his gaze alight with something you had not seen in his eyes before.

“Girl,” Deormund said, and you looked up. He glanced away and down at the piece of leather he was working on and fiddled with his knife. “It might not be my place to ask, but that boy…”

“You mean… the prince?”

“Yes. That boy.” He grumbled something under his breath. “Listen child, I am not one for gossip and rumours but even I cannot escape the words flying around Edoras at the moment.”

You flushed a little and glanced away. Deormund was the closest thing you had to a parent, and the weight of his words caused your stomach to turn. Did he disapprove in some way? Was it perhaps affecting the business? “Is something the matter?”

He cleared his throat and you hazarded a glance at him. His face was impassive but his eyes were concerned. “Do you truly care for him?”

Your fingers traced the outlines on the leather idly. “Yes. He is a good friend to me.”

“A friend…?”

You sighed and threw your hands up. “Yes, a friend. I do not know why you prod and poke me so. You are a practical man, sir. Of all people I’m certain that you understand that he and I will be nothing more than friends.”

Your chest tightened as the words left your mouth, the reality of it suddenly tangible in the air. You deflated in your chair, body protesting at the sudden movement from before. 

“Girl —”

You shook your head. “There is no use in it. I know the work we do is important, held in high esteem even, but we are still craftsmen. And craftsmen are not equal to princes. Eomer will find another, and she will make a fine queen for him one day.”

You looked at the panel you were working on. It was one of the last ones, and after the saddle was finished, there was no reason for you and him to keep meeting. Yes, Eomer will find someone else, and all that will be left for you will be the ghost of the memories. Would he bring her into the workshop and commission a saddle for her? Will you have to watch as he gazed upon her with love in his eyes?

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I did not mean to push you. It is just… You have seen happier these past few weeks. I thought perhaps I would have to find a new apprentice.”

A new apprentice, of course. Even if Eomer did return your feelings, what of your work? Leather carving was not the work of a queen; there would be no doubt that you would have to give it up. But to sit in hallowed rooms, silent and still, forever staring out at the plains, what sort of life would that be? 

You looked around the workshop. It was home, was it not? The worn wooden work tables, the comforting scent of leather, the tools that fit so perfectly in the palm of your hand. 

Tears stung at your eyes and you blinked them away. “Do not worry, sir. There will be no need for that.”

-

Firefoot galloped at full speed. The grass underneath Eomer was nothing but a blur of green. Sweat dripped down the back of his neck and dampened the collar of his tunic. His heart pounded in time with his ragged breaths and he tensed his thighs, urging Firefoot to go faster. 

“Enough!” Eowyn shouted as she caught up to him. “Brother, enough!”

He glanced at her. Her hair was wild, streaming with the wind, and her eyes were cold and angry. She was braced on her saddle and he knew she was ready to speed ahead and round her horse to cut him off if he did not heed her words. 

He tugged on the reins and Firefoot began to slow.

“You’re going to run the horses ragged.” She huffed and shook her head. “What is the matter with you?” The horses slowed to a comfortable trot and she drew close to him. “You have been ill-tempered this whole week. Even uncle does not dare to be near you.”

“It is nothing.” He let out a sharp exhale.

“It is that carver, is it not?”

Eomer glanced at his sister. Her gaze had warmed into something soft and sympathetic. He sagged in his saddle and sighed. “Yes. I had thought perhaps… She seemed to like my company, even said so herself. And yet this whole week all of my invitations have been declined.

“She is well within her rights to do so. I am aware she does not owe me anything, but it does… sting somewhat. I do not know if I did anything wrong, if at all. I know there has been gossip circulating. Perhaps she became aware of my feelings and was frightened away? I do not know, and it drives me to madness.”

“Maybe her pain has worsened this week. She simply may not have the capacity to see you.”

“I know,” he groaned. “But in the past she has told me if that is the case. More than once she had rescheduled our earlier meetings. It is unlike her to be so reticent. Maybe I have just been mistaken about her feelings towards me.”

He stared at the horizon wishing he could just ride and ride and ride.

He had never been in love before, not properly at least. There had been little infatuations, charming women who turned his head, but nothing like the feeling that had now rooted itself inside his heart. How was he to love another when you existed in the world? 

Despite himself, he had wandered down to the workshop the day before, just to catch a glimpse of you. He saw you through the window, hunched over the table, working on the saddle. How beautiful you were, your brows creased in concentration, your hands steady and skilled. And when you had laughed at something Deormund said, it took all his willpower not to sweep into the workshop and pull you into his arms. 

He sighed and tipped his head back to catch the cool wind. “The saddle will be finished soon. I will not have any excuses to see her anymore, and perhaps that is for the best. It would be too painful to be by her side and not have her. And she does not need to be burdened with my unwanted feelings.”

Eowyn arched an eyebrow. “Are you certain your feelings are unwanted?”

“I think this past week is evidence of it.”

“It is evidence that perhaps she is… avoiding you. But maybe not for the reasons you think.” She gave a laugh, slightly pained and embarrassed. “When The Ring was destroyed and the sky cleared, there were a few days where Faramir kept his distance from me. He… He thought I would ride out to Cormallen to see Aragorn.”

He blinked at her. “You are suggesting that she is acting in a similar way? But I have not shown interest in anyone but her.”

“I am simply saying that you do not know her reasons for sure. It would do you both good, I think, to speak plainly.”

He nudged her foot with his and gave her a small smile. “I will miss you, sister, when you leave.”

She grinned at him. “We still have a couple weeks yet.”

-

You laid your tools down and swiped at the bead of sweat on your forehead. The second last panel was finished. It showed Eomer’s return to Edoras with his uncle and Eowyn, happy and victorious. You ran your fingers over his carved face and form, unable to stop the small smile from tugging at your lips even as your heart twinged.

Deormund walked over from his station and nodded at the saddle. “You did good work today, girl. Take the rest of the day off.”

You stretched and silently thanked Eowyn for her concoction; your muscles would certainly have been more achy without it. “Thank you, sir. Perhaps I will —”

A shadow darkened the entrance and both of you looked up. 

Eomer stood in the doorway, flushed and slightly out of breath. “Forgive my sudden intrusion. My lady, I wish to speak to you if you can spare the time.”

Your eyes darted from him to Deormund who simply inclined his head. “Is it important, my lord?”

“I would say so, yes. Perhaps we could walk just outside the city gates? But if you are not feeling up to it then —”

“I will go with you.” You stood and tried to slow your heart. It seemed that a week apart from him did not abate your feelings for him. If anything, the sight of him just made you long to be by his side even more. 

You bid Deormund farewell and followed Eomer out of the workshop. The walk down to the city gates was silent, though many openly stared as the both of you passed. You twisted your hands together and kept your gaze fixed on the plains beyond. 

As you passed through the gates, Eomer let out a breath and glanced at you. “Forgive me for taking you out here. I wished to speak to you without the risk of being overheard.” 

You nodded and the both of you paused a few paces from the main road. Simbelmynë waved in the breeze, the delicate blooms rippling where they dotted the barrows. The sun was low in the sky and orange spilled across the land. The end of day bustle and the neigh of horses was just audible through the open gate.

You cleared your throat. “What is it that warrants such a precaution?” You took a breath and readied yourself. Was he unhappy with the saddle so far? Had something terrible happened? Was he being sent away?

“My lady, I hope you will forgive me for being forward, but I simply must know.” He looked into your eyes, beseeching. “Have I offended you in some way? It has not escaped my notice how you have been avoiding me.”

You opened your mouth and then snapped it shut. How could you possibly tell him the truth? It would ruin what friendship you had with him. “I… You have not offended me, I assure you.”

“Then what is it?” He looked askance at you before his eyes trailed over to the barrows. “I know I have not hidden my affection for you well. That much is evident by all the rumours circulating. But if I have made you uncomfortable in any way, please let me know. I shall endeavour to rein myself in better.”

“Affection?” You gaped at him. “You…”

He gave an awkward chuckle. “Perhaps I have not been as blatant as I thought I was. Yes, I am quite fond of you. When you started declining my invitations I thought… Well, if you do not feel the same, please tell me now. I will bear you no grudge and we will never speak of it again.”

Eomer returned your feelings? Your heart fluttered but dropped the next moment. “No, I…” Your voice came out strangled. “I can’t.”

His head snapped up, his hazel eyes intense. “You cannot? I do not understand.”

“My lord, I cannot give up my work.” You clenched your skirts in your fists. “I cannot, I will not sit idle and lonely in Meduseld forever removed from what I love so dearly. Not even for you.”

His frown deepened before his face cleared into what looked like relief. “Is that your only reservation?” 

You nodded and straightened, ready to counter any argument he may have. “It pains me to be apart from you, but it would hurt more should I never carve again.”

A wide grin split his face and he laughed. “I would ask no such thing of you. I have seen my own sister trapped in a gilded cage, withering and wilting. I would not place that on another.” His smile softened and he reached up, cupping your cheek. 

Blood rushed to your face and your eyes fluttered shut. Did you hear correctly? That you could have both Eomer and your work? You felt him step closer and his scent filled your nose. You peered up at him, nearly unable to bear the weight of his gaze. “But… I am not suited to be a princess, let alone a future queen.”

“I could not think of anyone better suited than you. It would be fitting, would it not? That the Queen of Rohan herself saddles the very horses of her people. I know your heart, I have seen it in your work. Your love and respect for our land, our stories, our people.”

“Eomer, I am not… But I am… But what if…”

“Peace,” he whispered, dipping his head as he tipped your chin back. “I will stop your mouth.” His lips hovered a hair’s breadth away from yours, waiting for your permission. 

You gave in to the pull of your heart and surged forward. His lips were soft and warm, and he kissed with a passion that left you lightheaded. He tugged you closer, pulling your body flushed against his, and sighed a little when your hand found its place on his firm chest. 

He drew back to catch his breath and he laughed, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “By my troth, I love you as I live and breathe.”

You giggled, giddy and delighted. “Are you glad your uncle brought you to the workshop now?”

“I was glad the moment I laid eyes on you. Ah yes, this reminds me.” He reached into his breast pocket and withdrew a creased piece of paper. He unfolded it to reveal the slightly smudged sketch of the final panel you had given him weeks ago. “I think I have discovered what was missing.”

“Hm?” You glanced at him then back at the paper, a little confused. The scene looked perfect, even Meduseld was accurate down to the patterns that decorated the arches.

“You, of course.” He gave you a fond exasperated look. “Bema, I have never met another so oblivious.”

“Oh.” You laughed and pressed your face into his chest. Your feet ached and you leaned a little bit harder on him. “Eomer, may we return now? I am quite weary.”

“Of course.” His smile turned mischievous. “Shall I carry you back?”

“Eomer, there is no need, I—” You shrieked and laughed as he picked you up, his arm under your knees and the other looped around your back. “People will talk.”

He kissed your cheek and started up the road. “Let them talk, then, and let news of their future queen spread.” 

---

The line Eomer says before he kisses you is from Much Ado About Nothing

Taglist: @sotwk

[eyeheartboobiez]

manifesting that gojo dies in a car fire🤞🏿

Sundered 2: EMBERS

Pairing: Gojo x reader

Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | ...+

Genre: Angst

tags/cw: angst, mean!gojo(kinda), babydaddy!gojo, babymomma!reader, motherhood, insecurities, arguments, implied pregnancy, mentions of abortion

word count: 5.4k

a/n: it's not sad.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

Each step that you take away from Satoru’s house feels like a stomp to your already broken heart. Your eyebrows furrowed, feeling the waterlines of your eyes start to get hot and itch. You recalled the noises and laughs that you heard from them while you walked out of their door. 

They have no idea how much you want to get down on your knees and beg them not to take away the only thing you have left. 

Your feet feel heavy with each stride you make toward your car. You could taste blood inside your mouth as you bit your inner lip to channel the pain away from your heart and to your body instead. You found yourself looking for answers on why all of this has to happen to you. As if being replaced by the man you love so easily and having to see how he treats someone else a thousand times better than you were not enough, you also have to witness your own flesh and blood turn away from you. Am I really that far behind that woman?

Is she that much better that even my own child prefers her over me?

You placed your hands on the steering wheel, looking down at your lap as you let the tears fall. You kept glancing over at the gate, hoping that Satoru would come out, running with your baby in his arms. Yet, you don’t want him to see you crying miserably. You swallowed thickly, letting out a large breath in an attempt to get rid of the painfully heavy feeling in your chest.

Driving away was numbing, and all sorts of thoughts ran inside your mind. But above all of them, your eyes were focused on the toy store as it got bigger in your view. You wondered about what you could get your little love to at least make her smile when she comes home. You remembered how your gift to her, her favorite bear that she used to hug as she sleeps ever since she was an infant, was cast aside as she clings to her new ones. 

Is that a foreshadowing of how you’d end up being in her life? It scared you.

Reaching the parking lot of the store, you looked at yourself in the car mirror, noticing your bloodshot eyes. You inhaled and let a big breath out slowly, puffing your cheeks as you assured yourself that it’ll be fine when she comes home later. Your head hurts so much but you can’t afford to care, stepping out of your car and heading to the front door of the store. The first thing you saw was a pregnant, young lady checking baby books. 

She reminded you of yourself when you were still pregnant with Yui; curious about everything, eager to learn, and all was about the baby. You admit that it wasn’t like that at first, given that you were young and had to drop out of college at that time. You were anxious, torn between decisions, and terrified of what life would be like for you from that point in time. During that period, you and Satoru were ignorant but trying hard to figure everything out.

You met Satoru at a nightclub where you worked as a bartender. He was flashy, and women just flock to him as if it was the most natural thing to do around him but that night, his eyes were on you. What with persistent offers of buying you drinks and talking to your manager to let you off early for the night, you ended up in a luxurious hotel suite with him. 

He even wrote his number on the price tag of the fancy lingerie set that he bought you after he ruined the one you were wearing the previous night. He was joking that you’ll never get enough so he’s providing you his contact for next time. You thought that would be the end of it. You didn’t think that it was just fate giving you a helping hand in advance because you’d end up with a child together. 

You consider it a dumb mistake. You know that Plan Bs exist. But with a working student like you who couldn’t even have time to get a proper boyfriend, it slipped your mind. The first thing you did after you got the results was call Satoru. You thanked the heavens that he wasn’t seeing anyone, and that he remembers you. It was a tense meeting, what with you asking if he wants you to abort the fetus. Next thing you know, you two were already dealing with your mood swings. 

“Look, I really want to work this out with you, Y/N. For the baby.” Satoru sighed, slamming the door behind him as he watched you sit on your old couch. You lean your elbows on your knees as you covered your face with your hands, harshly running them down your cheeks to wipe away the big, fat tears that fell from your eyes. There are just so many things going on with your life. 

“I’m only 21, Satoru. I got my whole life ahead of me.” You looked up at his tall figure, frustration was evident in your eyes. You can tell that he was also distressed. His hair was messy, his jaw was clenched tightly, and even if you cannot see behind his tinted glasses, you can tell that he hasn’t been getting enough sleep. The dark half-circles under his eyes and the redness in them show just how exhausted and disquieted he has been in the past few days.

Satoru’s five years older than you. He was born to a rich family of politicians who don't and probably will never need support from him or the other younger generations in their household. He has a stable source of income, he could probably make life investments that could cover your yearly living expenses. He has nothing to worry about, he won’t be dropping anything if he decides to take in another mouth to feed. But you…

You’re basically your mother’s retirement plan and now you got pregnant with a kid of a man you barely know. “Y/N, listen to me.” He got down on his knees in front of you, trying to take your hands off of your face as you sob, struggling to catch your breath. What’s going to happen to you now? You didn’t even get to finish the degree that your mother was working her ass off day and night for.

“You won’t have to worry about anything, you know? I’ll handle everything you need—” He trailed, trying to calm you down as he gently grabbed your forearms. “You don’t understand!” You cut him off, snatching your hands away, aggravated that he’s not thinking about how it could affect everything in your life. “Then, what the fuck do you want to do?!” You flinched as he raised his voice at you, breathing hard as he backed away.

“You think you’re the only one who’s going to be affected by this? You think you’re the only one who’s being robbed of another future! Open your fucking eyes, stop being selfish!” Satoru snapped back, harshly taking his glasses off before throwing it across the room. You started to cry, whimpering as you used the collar of your shirt to wipe your tears away.

“I’m scared, Satoru. I’m just so scared. I can’t even take care of myself, how am I supposed to raise a child…” You broke down, turning your body away from him. There was a long pause, a moment of pure silence, save from your sniffs and Satoru’s ragged breathing. 

You felt the couch dip as he sat down before pulling you to him, letting you cry on his chest.  “I know, I know. I’m sorry.” You would be lying if you said that the back rub, the temple kisses, and his whispers of reassurance didn’t calm you down. Those thoughts were recurring in your head and now that you finally let it all out and got answers from him, you were soothed.

You blinked hard, shaking your head to get out of your trance. You went straight to the dolls section. You can’t believe you just had a flashback of Satoru comforting you in the warmth of his chest. Your mouth started to twitch, wishing that he held you like that earlier when his girlfriend was slapping into your face that they’re gonna give your child siblings. It shouldn’t hurt you, but it still did. You realized that this girl, this woman is gonna have everything you wish you had with Satoru.

You walked past the kiddie pools and trampoline section, stopping when you saw a playpen, almost similar to the one Satoru bought for your little girl but smaller. The size doesn’t really matter though, because you know that you don’t have enough space in your place for something so big, anyway. 

Going closer to check the prices, you bit your lip as your eyebrows bumped together. You were calculating your monthly expenses along with the money for your savings in case of emergency. It’s expensive but you’re determined to cut back just to buy it. You kept your eyes on the tag as you took half a step away from it but your back was met by something, or rather someone behind you.

“It’s not cheap, is it?” A man’s deep voice boomed as you turned around, but your eyes were met by a broad chest. He’s big, you thought. He’s literally blocking your view. It didn’t help that you were short enough to have to look up to see his face. He was also staring at the playpen as he held the pushcart beside him.

“Y-yeah…” You answered, a bit awkward as you found yourself admiring the guy. You admired fathers who are active when it comes to their children. You didn’t grow up with a father so, you just found it endearing. You looked away from the man, gritting your teeth as an image of Satoru and his girlfriend shopping for baby things appeared before your eyes for a split second.

“Excuse me, sir. I still have to buy my daughter a gift.” You bowed slightly before turning away. He just nodded his head, too occupied to even look at you. You proceeded to check out the little dolls, hoping that you’d find something that’ll really catch your daughter’s eye. Picking up a dark-haired baby doll with big blue eyes sitting on a stroller, you smiled as you remembered how it has the same eyes as your baby.

You went to pay for the doll, and your heart was filled with joy despite the throbbing pain in your skull and the hot feeling behind your eyes. You reminded yourself not to forget to take your medicine. Thinking about getting sick and having to leave your child for a couple of days with them again makes you anxious, afraid that she’ll never want to go home to you again. 

You hurriedly went home, driving in the midst of the rain. You put the little doll on the chair, ready to surprise your baby girl when she comes back. You had to bear with the time, constantly checking your phone if your little girl and her dad are on the way to you. Your heart swelled at the thought. 

Though, you know that you’ll never be the one he comes home to, it’s still nice to think about. 

—--------------------------------

“She really called me Mama.” Naomi giggled as she kissed his daughter’s cheek. Satoru smiled, watching them play together warms his heart. It made him feel like he was staring at his family even if he knows that his daughter isn’t hers. He pursed his lips, remembering the look in your eyes at what you heard the child say.

He felt conflicted, not knowing how to react to all of it. He doesn’t want to embarrass his girlfriend by correcting her in front of you. But he also felt bad that he just watched you walk out that door on the verge of tears. Satoru had you memorized after all this time, it wasn’t a long time but he used to watch everything you do.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea, though.” Satoru sighed, shaking his head as he pushed a bit of Naomi’s hair away from her face. Her expression dropped as she adjusted the toddler in her arms. Satoru pulled her close to his side, hugging her waist as he thought about how to explain it to her without making her feel disheartened.

“I’m worried about how Y/N will feel about it, to be honest. I don’t know but it may worry her.” He kissed the side of her forehead before stepping away as he watches his daughter’s eyes look at them. He knows that she’s still too young but he feared that she’ll get confused by all of this. 

Like why is her father not with her mother, and why is he holding someone else?

He wondered if she’ll grow to hate him for giving up on their family. “Oh, Is that so…I thought we were fine already.” Naomi’s voice was quiet as she bit her lip, making Satoru rethink. “It’s not that, I just think that maybe that’s how she might feel.” Satoru took one of her hands, kissing it before rubbing his thumb on her soft skin. “No, I understand, I got too comfortable. I’m just a girlfriend, I shouldn’t have done that.” 

Satoru doesn’t want to make her feel like this, she’s just really attached to his baby. He knows that Naomi adores kids, they often joke around about it, so he could see why she’s excited about his daughter calling her Mama. Thinking about it now, maybe this shouldn’t be so bad. After all, she’s not gonna be just a girlfriend to him forever, right? Naomi is a great person, and Satoru thinks that it’s not impossible to have a future with her.

“Don’t say that. That’s just my assumption. She’ll tell if it’s not alright, I know. We’re co-parenting so we have to talk about those stuff.” Three squeezes to her hands made Naomi smile sweetly at him, her eyes as kind as the stars. “Yeah, discussions are important. I don’t want her to feel like I’m trying to keep her away from us.” The calmness in her voice comforted Satoru.

—-------------------------------------

After receiving a text from Satoru, you found yourself staring at the mirror, retouching your makeup like it’s gonna make him fall for you. Hopeless. Not long after, the doorbell rang and you dashed to the door. There, Satoru stood with Yui asleep on his shoulders. You took her bags, along with the teddy bear that she was hugging to her chest. Seeing her holding it again made you feel relieved.

“Are you feeling better now?” Satoru inquired, walking past you to put your kid in her little bed. You hummed in response, “She’s full, don’t give her any more milk. Naomi fed her before she fell asleep.” Her again. You thought as the small smile on your face dissipated. You’re just thankful that he didn’t take her with them here.

There was a moment of silence as the two of you watched your daughter sleep peacefully. A sigh escaped Satoru’s lips before he turned to you. He was about to say something, but closed his mouth, thinking. You took a deep breath, pursing your lips as you collected your thoughts. You started to rub your hands together, trying to get rid of the cold feeling on your fingertips.

Your communication issues with Satoru only worsened when he got a girlfriend. Seeing how he is with her made you doubt the importance of your words to him. It’s like if you get stuck in a room together with her and something happens, you’re almost certain that he’d accuse you first. You wouldn’t admit it but you yearn for him. You yearn for the way he acts towards her. You yearn for the things he does for her. 

You yearn for the things he so easily, willingly offer to her; things you had to beg for when you were still together.

“Satoru, I just want to ask…Since when did Yui start to call Naomi Mama?” You looked at the ground, somewhat embarrassed of your question but can’t pinpoint why. It just made you feel…weak and insecure. And you are that. But you can’t let Satoru see it. You don’t want him to feel even more sorry for you. You can see it in his and his girlfriend’s eyes whenever they look at you. They probably pity you and the state you are in. 

Alone. With no one to hold your pieces together but you.

“I don’t really remember. Look, I was going to mention that…” Satoru trailed, looking everywhere but you. He probably noticed your discomfort earlier. “I know it doesn’t seem right to you because she’s just my girlfriend but…” Here’s the “but” again. How come he can always find the good when it comes to her, even when she literally did you so wrong by letting your daughter call her Mama and even acting like one in front of you?

Ever since Satoru got a girlfriend, arguing with him started to feel like fighting in a war without any type of armor in your body. How are supposed to stand strong, when the fact that he’ll always be on her side was your weakness? There were times when you wanted to fight for yourself but you couldn’t bear to because you know that he was shielding her from everything, heedlessly deserting you.

“I didn’t really appreciate it. I mean… I-I just think she’s not in the place to—” You thought the words you chose to describe the situation were too risky when you were cut off by Satoru, taking his glasses off. You can’t read him but he’s looking at you with that apologetic gaze again. His face was filled with contrite and you can’t quite understand why. But like a mouse sensing danger, you wanted to run away.

“I…I’m thinking about proposing to Naomi.” It shouldn’t hurt. You told yourself again. You don’t have the right to feel hurt. This man disrespected you, hurt you, and made you feel so incredibly small yet here you are, wishing you were the one he wants to spend the rest of his life with. “I know she’s just my girlfriend now, but it’s bound to change.” You suddenly just wanted him to leave. “She…she’d like to ask for permission to let our daughter call her Mom. You know she treats Yui like she’s her—” 

“I don’t want to.” You whispered firmly through gritted teeth, cutting Satoru off. You don’t wanna hear it anymore. You can’t go through that again and you can’t let that happen again. “Yui is my daughter, and I don’t want her calling anyone else Mama.” You looked up at him with glassy eyes before turning away to walk out of the room, not wanting to startle the toddler from her slumber. Satoru was instantly on your tail, calling your name.

“She’s my daughter, too. Y/n, what is wrong? I know that you have your limitations and that’s why I’m here to talk about it with you, but why are you acting like this?” He walked closer to you, trying to catch your eyes. “I know it’s not just about this, I know you’ve been having problems with her but give a reason, at least. She’s been nothing but good to our kid. ” It’s getting hard for you to breathe as you tried to process your emotions and his questions.

You proceeded to the kitchen, hurrying to grab yourself a bottle of water before you collapse, but failing terribly when Satoru spoke the next sentence “Y/N, we all have to adjust, don’t be unfair to her, she doesn’t deserve it.” 

“And I do?!” You shouted at him, taking him by surprise and making him take a step back. 

“You think she doesn’t deserve any of that shit but I DO?!” You lamented, shaking your head in pain and disbelief. There were tears streaming down your face and no pattern of breathing can help you control it. You were able to keep it in when he shoved his new girlfriend in your face several months ago, but now it’s taking its toll.

You were about to get the clothes that he bought for your daughter on your way home from work but were met with a woman snuggled up to him on his couch. You hated him for allowing you to see them like that when he knows that you haven’t even processed your split yet because a month before that, he was saying that he could fix his shortcomings for you and his daughter. 

You remember how sick you felt in your stomach when he introduced her, saying that you weren’t supposed to see them like that. It’s revolting; how he thought that you were upset because of what you saw and not because he just went back on his words. Naomi kept her head down, standing in front of you as she muttered an apology before scurrying to Satoru’s room. 

Naomi was his father’s new assistant and unlike you, she got to finish her studies. Despite being classmates in high school, she was three years older than you due to the frequent relocation of her family. Regardless of her tough childhood, she was known to be a smart kid. No wonder his mother approved of her in such a short amount of time. 

You and Satoru were never perfect but it doesn’t mean that you were never happy with each other before. The issues overpowered your interest in each other, making it hard for the two of you to bounce back. You admit that you’ve been negligent of Satoru at a certain point of your relationship but it was only because you got tired of his ways.

He would come home late, making you stay up all night because he failed to reply when you texted him, asking him his whereabouts. He’d be out drinking with friends, and it wasn’t a problem but you just wanted him to at least let you know so wouldn’t be worrying to the point that you can’t even sleep.

His mother was overbearing. You got pregnant by someone’s son in a one-night stand and that’s all she paints you with. You were belittled and told that you can’t even take care of the child properly. Hell, was she so eager for Satoru to leave you and find someone better who achieved something in life.

Consequently, this negligence led to fits of jealousy from Satoru. This drove you to quit the job you used to have after a coworker of yours who only wanted to help became the subject of his suspicions. His mother saw you getting dropped off by your friend while she was babysitting your daughter. 

It was only because your car broke down and you don’t want to bother Satoru at work. You couldn’t really blame him for thinking that way because you know that he’s been feeling invisible to you which wasn’t true. You just don’t know how to deal with it anymore and you started to pull yourself away.

It got to the point where you couldn’t even communicate how you truly feel about him because it was overshadowed by your problems. You were arrogant enough to tell him that someone could treat you right and do much better and now, look at you; standing before him and his girl. Longing for him and eating the words you spitefully told him.

Pining so intensely for something you never had to the point where you physically ache.

The memory was tormenting, heart-rending, and traumatic to you. And now you get to watch them write their happy ending while you are here, left in the dust, drowning in the feelings that will never ever get recognized and will never ever be relevant. 

It hasn’t even been a year, and he’s already planning to marry her. He’s been nothing but better to her, yet, he couldn’t even change his ways for you and your child? Couldn’t he learn to truly love you after everything you endured just to be with him? You know that you have flaws, and chose some wrong steps and paths in your relationship. 

But you can’t bear to lose him like this. You know that you could have fought more for your relationship. He’d always say that you’d work things out. So, why did he stop? How could he stop choosing you so easily?

“How could you give her the world, yet refuse me the tiny bit of what I have left?” 

Your voice was small as you backed away, defeated. Satoru couldn’t move. From everything that has happened that morning, he could tell that you’ve been on edge. To Satoru, the only thing that connects you to him is his daughter. He refuses to believe that after all of that, you can still make it work.

At least, that’s the realization he came about when he met Naomi. She taught him that love isn’t supposed to be strenuous, it isn’t always about fighting. Within his tumultuous relationship with you, she came around and showed him that he’s seen. That his feelings are valid. He came to the conclusion that maybe he just wanted to love you because you have a child together. 

“Tiny bit?” He asked, frustrated that you just won’t let this go easily, irked that you always think you’re the only one having a hard time. If Satoru’s being honest, he’s just tired of it all. He just wants you to understand his point and get it over with. But now you’re crying in front of him and again, he doesn’t know what to do. He can’t even think of the right things to say or the right decisions to make. It’s like it’s all back to square one with you.

“You call it ‘tiny bit’ when I couldn’t even live my life because of you?! I’ve given everything, Y/N! I just want to be at peace with everything and I’m obviously not having it with you!” You couldn’t even breathe through the piercing ache in your chest from the daggers that are coming out of his mouth. Your hand reached over to your chest, grasping your shirt as his every word irreversibly pulverized your already wounded heart.

“I wish I never met you that night and I wish I never had Yui with you. You’re a thorn in my side, Y/N!” By the time he finished screaming at you, you were shaking like a leaf, grabbing a chair beside your table as your wide eyes stared at him in shock. Grief, mortification, and agony were plastered on your face, and only then did Satoru’s words sink into him.

“Y/N, I—” Before he could even form a proper phrase, a loud cry erupted from the other room. Yui. He watched as you quickly wiped away your tears, seeing the emotions mix inside your eyes until they turned into a weeping void with all the tears pooling inside them.

“I…I loved you, Satoru. And I hate that even now when you’re kicking me while I’m down for the sake of someone else, I still love you.” The crack in your voice had Satoru subconsciously moving closer to you, opening his arms to pull you into him but you were quick to flinch away, sniveling.

“Please, just-just go. Do whatever you want, just d-don’t take Yui away. I’m fine with it now, Satoru.” It’s almost as though something in you died when he spoke those words to you. You don’t know if he heard because you couldn’t even hear yourself. You could feel the beat of your heart in your chest and each one of them sends a burning ache to your body. “Just go, please.” You whimpered as you bit your upper lip, looking down on the floor. 

Satoru can’t take his eyes off of your fragile figure as you leaned on the kitchen counter, slowly walking back to your daughter’s room. He remained unmoving until you exited the kitchen area. It was only after a few minutes that he decided to go, not bothering to wipe away the tears that rolled down his face as he listened to your muffled cries behind the closed door.

Each sob was filled with anguish that Satoru knows he’ll never be able to erase.

—------------------------------------------------------

A few weeks later have passed yet Satoru still doesn’t know what to make of himself. He couldn’t focus on anything that he works on. He couldn’t even workout properly, he always ends up getting angry. It was a good thing that both he and Naomi were swarmed with tasks; they didn’t have time to interact any more than what their jobs would allow. If they did, Satoru isn’t sure if he’ll be able to focus on her. She still has time to visit every week, though. During those days, she spends her time with Satoru and sometimes, Yui.

He makes sure to free his time and himself completely when he’s with his daughter so he can give his full attention to her. Satoru picks her up from your house, same schedule as before. Sometimes it’s you, but other times, it was your mother. “All I asked of you was to never break her, Gojo.” were the first words she spoke to him. Satoru can’t look her in the eyes. Your mother was a kind woman, humble and unjudging. And to have her talking to him like that, Satoru was beyond ashamed.

He couldn’t give her a reason, or an answer. All he did was apologize. Like he should. Naomi was unaware of it all and the proposal that Satoru was planning for her was set aside due to all that had happened. He just doesn’t think it’s the right time to plan about it when his relationship with you is strained. Yes, you’re not together anymore but you’re still the mother of his child and he wants to be civil with you, at least.

Yui kept asking for you even when she was with him as if sensing that her Mama was hurting. She’s always carrying the new doll that you bought for her. Satoru once asked her if you cry and she would simply shake her head. He gets nothing out of it, of course, she’s just a kid. But who else could he ask?

Satoru has no idea what you have been doing. He knows that you go to work, but other than that, he’s clueless about the places you go to and why your mother started babysitting his daughter more during the past few days. Satoru thought that maybe you just can’t stand seeing him anymore and is refusing to face him whenever he picks his daughter up. You have every right and reason to despise him, after all.

So, now he stands on the other side of your door, wondering if he’ll get to see your face this time or be welcomed with the frowning face of your mother. He knocked three times, like he always does, adjusting the collar of his shirt. To his surprise, it wasn’t any of the two women he was expecting holding the door open for him. 

“Who are you?” A shirtless man with a muscular build stood before Satoru, a curious yet accusatory gaze scanned him like he was an intruder in his own woman’s home. He leaned on his tattooed arm against the doorframe, blocking the tiny view he has of the inside. It pissed him off, clenching his jaw for a few seconds before speaking.

“Who are you?” Satoru bit back, raising his brows in an attempt to intimidate the guy. He’s only a couple of centimeters taller than the stranger but he’s bigger. It wasn’t a big deal to him until the man opened the door wider. A short, deep chuckle escaped his lips before a smug smirk appeared on his face. 

Tilting his head, the man gave Satoru a clear look at the scratches adorning his nape and the purple and maroon marks on his jaw. It made Satoru’s blood boil, unreasonably so.

“Think you know who I am now?” 

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a/n: just send an ask if u want to be removed <33

[awlimagines]

art by @kinokoshoujoart

Day Three- Celia/Cecilia

Cecilia hummed to herself as she followed the cleared path. Those between Mineral Town and Forget-Me-Not Valley did an excellent job clearing the mountain trails. The constant traffic and the warm sun on such a clear day also helped wonders. It wasn’t until she veered from the gravel that she touched snow. Cecilia finally came to a halt at the lake’s edge. She took a seat on a felled tree to lace her skates on. Cecilia timed her arrival perfectly; she was pleased to note as she observed you exit the mine.  

You had mentioned coming here last week to investigate the newly accessible mine. Upon hearing your plans, Cecilia immediately enlisted help for her own. Takakura discretely helped ensure the ice skates would fit you while Vesta, with Gotz's help, checked the thickness of the ice early this morning. Everything was in place, and she eagerly skated across to join you. 

“Hi, Y/N! Would you like to join me?” Ceci warmly greeted you, holding a pair of skates for you aloft. Her heart fluttered to a stop as you frowned and avoided her gaze. 

“I would love to, but I don’t know how to skate,” you mumbled. 

“Oh, that’s no trouble! I’d love to teach you!” 

Cecilia gently explained the basics as she helped you lace the skates properly. You took a deep breath before wobbling onto your feet. Ceci fought a smile at the sight. You reminded her of a calf, new to the world and trying to find its footing. Her hands shot out to catch you as your first step forward tilted your balance. You clung to Cecilia, questioning if this was a great idea. 

“Here, I’ll support you,” she said, holding your hand tightly in hers to pull you along behind her. You couldn’t help but think her bright smile would melt the ice before you learned the hang of ice skating.

[spacecadet-ticklesinspace]

hi, can you write a platonic ler!Marc x lee!reader where Marc and the reader are playing a game and Marc accidentally finds out the reader is ticklish? and can the reader's weak spot be the armpits and hips?

Marc and Reader

Summary: See prompt above :)

hi! can you write a platonic ler!Marc x lee!reader where Marc accidentally finds out the reader is ticklish?

(I think these were sent in by the same Anon so I'm just putting them together ❤️ I'm sorry this took so long Anon ❤️ Thank you for your patience, I'm slowly starting to get better and I'm hoping to catch up on all of the prompts you guys have sent in ❤️ Have a great weekend you guys 👋 Enjoy! ❤️)

"Ha!" Marc threw his last card on the pile. "I win!"

"No fair!" You whined as you threw down all the cards in your hand.

"Sorry Y/N, I'm just too good at this game."

"You're a cheater, that's what!" You replied before sticking your tongue out at your friend.

Marc smirked. "Aww, don't be such a sour puss Y/N."

"I can't help it." You kicked at Marc. "I'm playing with a cheater!"

"Come on Y/N. Let's try again." Marc reshuffled the cards.

You whined. "What's the use?"

"It takes practice to get good. With a little practice you might---."

To be reassuring, Marc had reached over and squeezed your knee. However, Marc did not know one very important thing. You were extremely ticklish.

You let out a loud squeak and immediately pulled your knees away from his touch. Then your eyes widened when you realized what you had done. After witnessing the tag teaming Marc and Jake did on Steven, you kept the secret of your ticklishness under tight lock and key.

The smirk on Marc's face showed you wouldn't be able to talk your way out of this one. "Oh Y/N."

You gulped. "Y-yehes?"

"Have you been keeping a secret from us?"

You blushed darkly. "N-no!"

"I think you have." Marc sat up. "I think you've been keeping a special little secret from us."

You backed even farther away. "Nuh-uh y-you gohoose!"

The older knight scoffed. "Goose? Serihiously?"

"I'm nervohous!"

"Aww." Marc began to crawl toward you. "Why would you be nervous if you have nothing to hide hmm?"

You squeaked. "Get bahack! Evihil!"

"It's tohoo late Y/N. The monster is coming to get you!"

You felt your back hit a wall. "Wh-whahat monster?"

"The tickle monster!"

Then Marc pounced.

You were yanked forward until you were lying on your back. "Eep! Marc!"

The older knight began to spider his hand along the soles of your feet. "Aww, what's wrong?"

"Yohou're ticklihing mehe!"

"I'm not tickling you." Marc playfully pinched each of your toes. "The tickle monster is."

While not the most ticklish spot on your body, Marc's playful pinches managed to find all the squeaky giggles you had to offer. "Maharc!"

Then that hand began to spider up your leg. "How many times must I tell you Y/N? That's not my name."

"Wehell tehell Mister Tihickle Mohonster hehe suhucks!"

A loud gasp left Marc's mouth. "How dare you!"

Through your giggles, you managed to stick your tongue out at your friend. "Wehell he dohoes!"

That same hand began to crawl up to your thighs. "Now you're in big trouble Y/N."

Your eyes widened as your nervous giggles picked up. That hand was getting awfully close to one of your sweet spots.

"Oh?" Marc smirked. "Am I getting close?"

"Noho! N-nohot ahat all!"

"But what if I . . ." The older knight placed his hand on your hip. "Try here?"

You immediately froze. Just the feeling of his hand on your hip was enough to make you squirm.

"Hmm, this looks promising." To emphasize the word promising, Marc gave your hip a gentle squeeze.

Immediately, you squealed and bucked.

With an evil chuckle, Marc placed his other hand on your other hip. "This should be interesting."

"Maharc, Ihim beggihing yOOOOU! NAAAAH!"

The older knight grinned as he watched you be reduced to a squirming mess from only a few hip squeezes. "Awww, wittwe Y/N is awl wiggwy."

Now the blush on your face flamed even darker. "NOT AHA BABYHY!"

"But youwr awl wiggwy wike wone. Yes youw awre! Yes youw awre!"

Marc usually reserved those teases for when he tickled Steven. Now you knew exactly how he felt."

Finally, Marc's hands spidered onto your sides. "So Y/N, are there any other 'secrets' you wish to share?"

"Nohot ohon your lihife!" You exclaimed. You were keeping your other ticklish spot a secret because your life may depend on it.

"Come on Y/N, you can tell me."

You shook your head. "Yohou'll tickle mehe thehere!"

By now the older knight's hands were already crawling along your tummy. "What do you think I'll do when I find it on my own?"

That was code for he was going to tickle you more when he found it so you stayed quiet and giggled in anticipation.

The older knight chuckled as he moved up to your ribs. "Or are you hoping I'll find it on my own?"

"Sh-shuhu--."

"Awww." Those wiggling fingers climbed higher up your ribs. "You're so flustered."

You tried to subtly press your arms closer to your sides so he couldn't get to your armpits. Yet, you weren't subtle enough.

Marc wiggled his fingers into the ribs just below your armpits. "Did I find the spot you were trying to hide?"

"N-no!"

"I think I did." The older knight lifted your arms above your head and pinned them with one hand. "I think I found your tickle spot."

You bit your lip and shook your head.

Marc's free hand slowly wiggled toward your armpit. "I'll be the judge of that."

All of your protests turned to helpless babbling as you kept your eyes on that hand.

"Gootchie gootchie goo Y/N."

When those fingers dug in, the loudest squeal yet erupted from your mouth. Your whole entire body squirmed as ticklish shocks shot through your entire body.

But they couldn't keep the giant happy grin off of your face.

"Now that's the most precious things I've seen in a while," Marc teased.

It took a bit of effort, but you managed to slap Marc's arm.

The older knight paused his tickles. "All tickled out?"

"Yehes!"

"Aww, alright." Marc let your arms go. "But I'm definitely getting you again in the future."

As you rubbed the remaining ghost tickles away, you kicked a foot in the older knight's direction. "Shut uhup."

Marc smirked. "You never told me to stop."

The blush on your face darkened even more at Marc's observation so you covered your face to hide it. "Shuuush!"

"For nohow." Marc nudged your leg. "I want to beat you in another game ohof Uno."

You scrambled up to grab the cards. "Loser gets tickleheled!"

"You're on!"

Once the cards were reshuffled, the two of you got ready for another intense game of Uno.

[potatoplace]

On my roster for writing this week:

✨definitely happening✨

Omega Needs C6: it should cover the rest of Feyre's first week at the Night Court

💞hopefully happening💞

Control III: daddy!az smut, if I'm feeling brave

Timeless Prologue/Chapter 1: If I choose to do a prologue, it will probably give backstory on the town (Harvest Moon AWL inspired AU!!) and on Feyre and Rhys's friendship. Chapter 1 will cover Rhys's homecoming after a few years away at war, returning to his family farm to become the patriarch after his father past in the war (that includes taking a wifeyyyy)

💔if I'm feeling angsty💔

Elain's POV of loml/my tears ricochet: covers Elain's version of events plus some extra scenes of fucked up shit she and Az did cause they're terribleeeee

Easy or Red Flags: Az x Reader angst, based off Chelsea Cutler songs, basically would just be Az being a piece of shit agaaaain (highly recommend listening to her oml I love heeer I got to see her in concert and she played both it was truly magical)

I'm definitely most excited about Omega Needs and Timeless. In Omega Needs there will be a bit of spiciness so long as everything goes according to plan when I write. Just remember it's going to be as slow of a burn as I can manage to make it (I am also excited for the spice).

But yeah! I'm hoping to get a lot out this week, but for right now I'm gonna play some minecraft and try to make a cute house.

[jwirecs]

ok hi hello um there was a joshua smut ff and basically the reader got fed up with the lack of acknowledgement from joshua in public because theyre fwbs so joshua makes it up to her by eating the reader out .. it was really well-written & i can't find it at awl 😭😭😭

helloo!!

so i tried to look for it using what i can with google (ie. joshua x reader friends with benefits, no acknowledgment tumblr) and it didnt really work out, unless its under his like korean name and its not a tumblr fic.... but

if anyone happens to know this fic, please do let us know!🥺

these fic findings are literally lowkey recs for me to read too.

[awlimagines]

@dedtoot I hope this is okay, but I felt inspired.

Why they're covered in blood. (SFW)

CELIA/CECILIA 

You woke gazing at the blue sky and confused about your whereabouts. Dr. Hardy, Takakura, and Cecilia’s faces soon swam into focus, hovering above you. Cecilia frowned at you as the doctor moved away to speak with Takakura. The sight worried you. She only ever smiled. As she helped you to slowly sit upright, you noticed her apron stained with red. You quickly questioned her on what happened, worried she was injured. Instead, Cecilia informed you about your injury. As the brunette explained, your hand traveled to the bandages around your head. Cecilia was headed to the Goddess Pond when she saw you collapse harvesting fodder. Her explanation shifted quickly to a lecture: you could have been seriously hurt! What if she and Takakura weren’t around?  You meekly hung your head, promising her to be more careful in the future. 

CODY/GORDY 

You felt responsible despite his assurances. Gordy wouldn't have misplaced his next punch if it wasn’t for you jumping out to surprise him. Instead, his hand caught the sharp edge of metal, ripping the flesh across his knuckles. His amethyst eyes widened as much as your own when the blood began to gush from his hand. You scrambled, retrieving your basic first aid kit from your rucksack. Bumps, bruises, and cuts were too uncommon on the farm. You were familiar enough with first aid to assist. It wasn’t until you had the wound clean and worried over the possibility of stitches that you noticed his gaze fixated on the manor in the distance. Gordy softly explained he couldn’t stand the sight of blood. It made him feel faint, and it seemed like a lot. Your heart fluttered at his vulnerability as you delicately wrapped his hand. 

DARYL

He was frustrated. You could tell from his muttering and the furious glances he cast at you. For your part, you sat as still as possible, ignoring the stinging as Daryl patched you up. It was an innocent mistake. You had planned to surprise him. He would come home from his daily walk to find you waiting with dinner to share. Instead, he walked into the lab to find you surrounded by shattered glass. Daryl’s eyes almost instantly widened, and his face turned red when he saw you. You quickly tried to apologize for the damage and explained that you accidentally bumped into the shelf. It was soon clear that the scientist didn’t care about the mess or damage to his lab. No, Daryl was upset you got hurt. As he delicately removed another shard of glass from your hand, you focused on his sleeves. The poor lab coat was stained with your blood by this point. Would he let you buy him a new one? Maybe Sebastian knew how to get the stains out if you could get the coat off Daryl long enough to clean it.   

FLORA

It was a pleasant day until you found Vesta, Matthew, and Cecilia gathered in the back corner of their fields. You listened as Cecilia urgently told you Dr. Hardy had just gone to the dig site. As the older woman saw your confusion with the words, Vesta calmly attempted to tell you about the cave-in. At the mention of the dig site’s collapse, you rushed up the path. When you arrived to find the damage, your heart dropped to your stomach. Flora’s usual blonde locks were half-dyed red with blood. She quickly tried to reassure you everything was fine as she spotted you from under the doctor’s care. Despite her reassurances of head wounds bleeding a lot and their measures to prevent cave-ins, Flora did not protest too much when you insisted on her staying under your watchful eye for the evening. 

GUSTAFA 

You cried in frustration rather than pain as you cradled your hand. The sound of a familiar voice calling a greeting soon had you jumping to your feet. You hesitated at the door, unsure how to hide your injury, before shoving your hand in a pocket. The door swung open to reveal the green-hatted musician. While he smiled seeing you, you could tell he knew something was up. A concerned eyebrow rose higher above his shaded frames as Gustafa asked if everything was okay. You shuffled your feet in shame before sliding your hand out to show him. Your hand trembled, the still bleeding wounds now holding bits of fuzz from the pocket lining. He wasted no time in cradling your injured fingers in his hands and tending to them. As he left to wash the blood from his hands, you fidgeted, wondering if he was going to ask what happened. Gustafa returned to your side with the poorly hidden guitar you borrowed from Gavin to learn how to play. 

“Hey,” the softness of his voice made you jump. “I appreciate you learning for me, but you’ve got to listen to your body. I hate seeing you hurt.” 

LUMINA  

Lumina insisted on learning to ride your horse. The young woman had quickly broken from her shell of expectations after your engagement. While you typically supported her exploration, you hesitated on this particular one. Horseback riding could be dangerous. Your inexperienced fianc�� was excited to jump fences like you did. Lumina’s pouts as you instead walked them around the pasture were very clear. You hadn’t expected her to take matters into her own hands. So, when you returned to the farm from foraging at the Goddess Spring, you were shocked to see Takakura tending to Lumina. The young woman refused to cry despite the moisture forming at the corners of her eyes. You learned Lumina had tried to surprise you, but a sudden hare sprinting from the back of the property startled her and your horse, sending her to crash. The numerous scrapes and scratches from her trip to the earth while drawing blood looked superficial. Lumina did cry when you mentioned having Dr. Hardy look over her. She didn’t want Aunt Romana to find out what happened. 

MARLIN/MATTHEW 

The typhoon that swept through only created minimal damage in Forget-Me-Not Valley. Thankfully, your farm was spared the worst of it. Due to your luck, you were helping out at Vesta’s after you finished work. As Vesta and Cecilia tended their fields, you helped Matthew repair a broken fence. The two of you had managed to remove the damaged parts. Matthew insisted on replacing the post, leaving you to gather the slats to attach. The boards fell from your hands as a sickening crack caught your attention. The post driver had slipped from the post, smacking Matthew in the head. He gruffly tried telling the group gathered around him that he was fine. Until a trickle of blood ran down his face. Matthew reluctantly let you and Vesta help him sit inside as Cecilia ran for the doctor. Even after being treated and cleared by Dr. Hardy, Vesta refused to allow Matthew to resume work. 

MUFFY/MOLLY 

When you arrived for lunch at the Bluebird, you were surprised to find out-of-towners filling the seats. The rowdy bunch was traveling and managed to stop here. You tried to ignore the noise and enjoy your lunch. It wasn’t until an argument broke out between two of the patrons and a glass whistled by to strike the shelves that you acted. After helping Gavin remove the party, you returned to help clean the mess and saw Molly with tears. A thin red line ran across her cheek from the bottles exploding. You hurriedly sat the shaken blonde on a barstool to clean the cut. At Gavin’s insistence, Molly soon followed you back to the farm to take the day off. Tears formed again in her green eyes when you gave her a cream to help ensure there wasn’t a scar. 

NAMI

Honestly, it was a terrible idea from the beginning. You were bragging to Rock about learning fencing from Nami. The two of you had the brilliant thought of sharing what you learned. Unfortunately, all you could find were the foils and not the protective gear Nami always insisted on wearing. It didn’t take long before both you and Rock recognized the purpose of the suits. Nami arrived outside the inn from the beach to see you both cut open, the fencing foils lying forgotten in the dirt. She hopped into action, instructing you to apply pressure as she focused on a hysterical Rock first. You were ready to cry and beg Nami to not be angry as well, but you followed her commands. Later once Rock and you were both treated and Nami sporting stained clothing, you sat in the inn’s lobby enduring a safety lecture from the angry redhead. 

ROCK

The blonde had arrived at your farm to rechallenge your dog to a race. You hid a smile as you rolled your eyes and let Rock play with the pup. Screaming minutes later startled you and the livestock you attempted to care for in the pasture. You clambered over the fence to hurry to Rock’s side as he rolled in the dirt. Takakura soon joined you as you tried to settle the young man down to discover what happened. From his cries, you worried over a broken bone. Relief and annoyance swept through you as you learned Rock’s shoe slipped off, causing him to trip. His palms were scratched from catching himself on the gravel, droplets of blood dotting the scrapes. You thought the shaken man had calmed down from the injury and his ruined pants when you helped him to a seat inside your home. Fresh wails came from him as Rock saw the hydrogen peroxide in your hands. 

“I’d rather Dr. Hardy just cut them off! That stuff stings!”

Tier list on how high is the chance of awl characters to be covered in blood

[tteokdoroki]

I honestly couldn't figure out whether or not requests are open so I apologize in advance if they aren't.

I wanted to request an Izuku x Reader where he's dating Ochako and she wants to have their first time but he's nervous so he goes to his best friend (reader) to practice 🙊

i don’t do requests at awl bestie !! sorry <3

[love-bokumono-fics]

Fresh Crops! August 21 - August 27, 2023

This week's newest fics and chapter updates for Harvest Moon and Story of Seasons on AO3!

Cause and Effect - by sylarcookie; Complete, 1/1, 3k

Rating: Explicit; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Category: F/M Fandom: A Wonderful Life Relationship: Flora/Daryl Additional Tags: One Shot, Explicit Sexual Content, Aphrodisiacs, what if the characters designers weren't evil and Daryl was hot, Daryl deserves to be hot, science is hot, Gone for Her, Shyness, STEM nerds getting it on Summary: On a hot summer's day, Flora goes to Daryl's lab to show him a specimen from the dig site. She drinks a jar of what she thinks is water while waiting outside. It's not water. It's a cow aphrodisiac.

Umami - by Chibimiie; WIP, 1/1, 1.3k

Rating: General Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply Fandoms: Animal Parade, Story of Seasons (2014) Characters: Molly the Farmer, Chase, Raeger, Fritz Additional Tags: Childhood Friends, yes this is another au of my fic, no the other one is not abandoned i still have ideas for that one too, this is just what happens when one little line from a chapter gets stuck in your head Summary: A silly little AU of my main fic, Sugar and Spice, based around the idea of Molly and Chase meeting each other as kids over the summer. Just a fun little look into what could have been.

The Egg Thief - by dicelady20; WIP, 5/19, 23k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: Graphic Depictions Of Violence; Category: F/M Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town, Dragon Ball GT/Z Characters: Trunks Briefs (DB), Claire the Farmer Additional Tags: Harvest Moon, Dragon Ball Z, Dragon Ball GT, Romance, Slow Burn, Martial Arts, Cussing, Crossover, Healing, city vibes, dark scenes, POV Multiple, POV Third Person Limited, Mild Gore, References to Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons Games, Suspense, Supernatural Elements, First Meetings, story of seasons Summary: Claire decides to give the city life another chance, but as she does, she is haunted by her nightmares. Mr. CEO of Capsule Corp., Trunks, needs to keep a secret. He is bound by the oath of an unsealed dragon. What happens when their two worlds collide? And what is lurking in the shadows of West City as these two learn to show vulnerability? Is it something that could shake up the dragons emotions?

Tumblr Posts for A Wonderful Life Characters - by actaeoncross; WIP, 17/?, 24k

Rating: Not Rated; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Categories: F/F, F/M, M/M, Multi Fandoms: A Wonderful Life Relationship: Multiple Characters x Reader; Characters: Celia | Seperia | Cecilia, Cody | Gordy, Daryl, Flora, Gustafa, Lumina, Marlin | Mash | Matthew, Muffy | Molly, Nami, Rock, Reader Summary: A collection of Tumblr posts for A Wonderful Life Characters x Reader prompts. The blog is an offshoot of my main and should be found under AWL Imagines.

Blue Bird - by viridian_house; WIP, 3/4, 12k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Categories: F/M, M/M Fandoms: A Wonderful Life, DS Cute Relationship: Pony | Aya | Jill/Takakura; Characters: Takakura, Pony | Aya | Jill Additional Tags: Angst, Pining, Bisexual Male Character, Age Difference, Angst with a Happy Ending Summary: Takakura never had much luck in matters of the heart. Until Aya came along, that is.

Degausser - by JillOfAllTrades__x; WIP, 10/?, 56k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings; Categories: F/M, Multi Fandoms: Friends of Mineral Town Characters: Pete | Jack, Claire the Farmer, Ann the Innkeeper | Ran, Gray, Cliff, Jennifer, Popuri, Karen, Kai, Mineral Town Residents Additional Tags: Redemption, Fresh Start, Loneliness, Angst, Self-Loathing, Self-Acceptance, Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Drug Use, Self-Harm, Multiple Pairings Summary: Those that live in glass houses shouldn’t throw stones – but that’s all Jack and Claire ever knew up until a series of half-lit cruel intentions landed them on the ferry to the desolate island of Mineral Town. After all, it was certainly easier to cast judgment unto others than it was to face the skeletons in your own closet. And surely no one would have an ill word to say about a brooding playboy and an immature party girl taking over the once-great farm that founded and funded their small town, right?

Don't Eat Flowers - by Maymist; Complete, 3/3, 7k

Rating: Teen And Up Audiences; Archive Warning: No Archive Warnings Apply; Category: F/F Fandoms: A Wonderful Life Relationship: Nami/Pony | Aya | Jill; Characters: Nami, Pony | Aya | Jill, Rock, Reader Additional Tags: Lesbian Character, Inspired by Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons, Mentions of Other Harvest Moon/Story of Seasons Games, Blue Feather, Romance, LGBTQ Character, POV Lesbian Character, Canon Lesbian Relationship Summary: The new farmer girl in Forgotten Valley attempts to give Nami some flowers to, er… totally give the hint that she's romantically interested in the very much reserved tomboyish red-head. Nami completely jumps to conclusions and misunderstands though, and that's where this silly romance begins. What kind of other madness will ensue?

[shelbystales]

Time Off - One shot

Tommy Shelby x Reader - Masterlist

Requested by An: Hii! I hope I'm not bothering you. I really like the way you write. I was gonna ask If you can do one when the reader is sick and he just take cares of her like a child. Maybe you can do a scene when the reader is throwing up and Tommy rubs her back and hold her hair. I will be so thankful If you do it.

Summary: Tommy gets home after a long day at work and you are not waiting for him like you normally do and finds you sick in bed.

Warning: Swearing, fluff

English is my second language so I apologize in advance for the grammar mistakes.

︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿︵‿

The days that Tommy managed to get home early were not many. It was 7pm and it might not be early, but at least it was not late.

But no matter the hour he came home, you were always waiting for him to either join him for dinner or simply make him company before bed.

He never told you but he loved to come home to you, to hug you and smell your perfume, or to feel your soft skin on his... but let's be honest, he didn't have to tell you that because you already knew. You knew him.

To his surprise he opened the door and you weren't sitting on the couch reading your book noor were you helping Francis out with the dinner table.

He took off his overcoat as he walked in looking for you. At the dining room, he spotted Francis.

"Oh, Hello Mister Shelby, you are home early" she spoke as she saw you

"Yea, yea. Where is me wife?" he asked and Francis looked surprised for a minute

"She's in bed Sr" she answered

"In bed?" he frowned

"Yes, she was feeling sick all day. I thought she had told you or called" Francis answered but during the mid of her words, he had already turned his back and was walking to the bedroom.

As he made his way to the bedroom he kept asking himself why he didn't call. He cared about your wellbeing, he would have come home to take care of you or at least call a doctor to check on you.

He opened the door slowly and faced a dark room with only one lamp on.

He looked over to the bed and you weren't there, looking around he saw the bathroom light on.

Opening the bathroom dor he saw you sitting right next to the toilet all curled up, your knees to your chest and your arms hugging your legs, your head resting on top of your knees.

As you heard him come in you raised your head to look at him. He looked at you with tenderness.

"Hi" you spoke with a tinny smile on your lips, feeling nausea take over you once again.

"Hey" he kneeled in front of you he caressed your cheek with his thumb and asked. You looked sick, your skin at least two-toned clearer, eye bags under your eyes, hair messy, lips pale, the sight of you like that made his heart clench.

"what are you feeling, hm?" he asked truly worried

"Sick and my head hurts" you answered "I think it was that shrimp we ate yesterday"

"yeah?" you nodded "have you been feeling like this all day?" you nodded again "hm, why didn't you call me? I could've come home, take care of you, ey" he continued caressing your cheek

"Didn't want to bother you... honestly, I am ok" you answered "just feeling nauseous"

"Are you sure it's the food?" he asked and you already knew what he meant. You weren't trying to get pregnant but you weren't doing anything to avoid it either.

"I feel like it is... the awlful taste that's in my mouth is the fucking shrimps" you made a disgusted face and he smiled. You loved when he smiled.

"Well, let's get you to bed, ey" he said and you quickly shook your head

"No no, it's coming. I can feel it preparing itself in my stomach... at any moment it will come out" you said

"Alright. I'll get you some water" he stood up and quickly walked to the kitchen seeing Francis again he pointed at her and spoke "the next time she's sick like that, you call me"

"Yes, Sir." she nodded watching as he got a cup of water feeling like the whole scene was a bit strange "do you want me to set the table sr.?"

"No. Make some soup, something light, ya? Maybe some tea. Bring it to my bedroom when it's ready" he answered and left the kitchen with your glass of water

As soon as he entered the bedroom he could hear you vomiting.

He rushed over to the bathroom, putting the glass of water over the sink before kneeling next to you.

With one hand he got a hold of your hair and with the other, he caressed your back.

"That's it. That's it, let it out" he encouraged

"Oh I hate this..." you mumbled between one wave of vomit and another "I'm never... eating shrimp again".

When you finished he closed the toilet lid and flushed.

"Feeling better?" he asked handing you a piece of toilet paper to clean your lips

"A little" you answered after you cleaned yourself, throwing away the paper

"Good" he caressed your face and stood up. You raised your arms and he helped you up and hugged you tight. "I want you to call me and tell me when you're not feeling good, ok?" He asked and you nodded

"I just thought you already had too much in your head. Didn't want to bother you" you explained yourself

"You kidding me?" he pushed you a little further away from him so he could look in your eyes "you will never bother me, especially when you are sick. Got it?" You nodded "good, here" he handed you the glass of water

"Thanks" you used the first sip to rinse out your mouth and followed to brush your teeth.

While you cleaned, Thomas walked back inside the bedroom and changed into his pajamas.

When you finished you went straight to bed.

"I asked Francis to make some soup" Thomas announced as you curled up on the duvet closing your eyes.

"Not hungry" you growled

"You have to eat something" he statted

"All the things I put inside came out minutes later, so no thanks" you answered annoyed

You heard his footsteps approaching and then his body weight on the bed. You opened your eyes to look at him.

"You have to try and eat a little" he said caressing you over de duvet

"No, I don't"

"Why are you such a stubborn?" he asked amused "I've been spoiling you too much" you smiled

"I don't feel like eating Tommy, my stomach hurts. I just want to sleep, my head is exploding... I promise you I'll eat propper tomorrow" you said with a tired tone.

"Ok" he mumbled and gave you a peck "I'll take some time off tomorrow to take care of you. The entire day if it's necessary" he caressed your face taking the hair out of it.

You nodded, enjoying the idea of having him all to yourself tomorrow.

[awlimagines]

art by @kinokoshoujoart

Day Four - Lumina

“Are you sure? We could have a coach take you there,” Aunt Romana asked for the hundredth time that morning. 

Lumina's golden-brown eyes glanced from buttoning her jacket to her grandmother. Sebastian hovered behind the bent older woman, their faces lined with worry. She reassuringly smiled at the two before gently telling them again that you would accompany her to the city. Some part of her felt like it was a harsh rebellion against the care they had provided, but she wanted to do this herself, especially since Aunt Romana would not approve of her plans. 

She did her best to push the thoughts from her mind as she traveled with you. Although she was interested in your farm, it became harder to track the conversation as her nerves built. She started like a spooked rabbit as your hand grabbed her outside the dress shop. Lumina gave you a weak grin as you lightly squeezed her hand in encouragement. She hesitated before the mirror, observing the black dress. Panic swelled in her at the choice as she stepped from the dressing room, and your jaw dropped. 

“Y-you look amazing!” you stuttered, fighting not to ogle Lumina as your face grew warm. 

A flush rose in Lumina’s cheeks, pleased to hear your exclamation. Your apparent approval diminished her second thoughts. Lumina protested as you paid for the dress before carefully following your guidance to the theatre. She fought to ignore the butterflies in her stomach as she entered through the stage door. Aunt Romana disliked jaunty Christmas music. She particularly detested The Nutcracker which Lumina now prepared to play. Her fingers ran lightly across the surface of the piano’s keys as she steadied her nerves. 

Lumina hoped you wouldn’t regret an orchestra seat. You had assured her that you’d rather see her play than the ballet. She had trouble believing your sincerity. The Nutcracker used to consume Lumina’s thoughts each year around Starry Night. After her mother’s death, she wished a prince would sweep her away to a magical land. Lumina glanced toward your seat to see your eyes glued to her with an excited grin. 

She hid her smile as you gave a huge thumbs-up before the lights dimmed. Lumina began to play, enjoying the music swelling around her. She hadn’t realized it until now, but her prince had already come. You had entered her life and freed her from the manor's walls, promising new adventures.

[serzhantkris]

Haunted- 15

Summary: He knew, from the moment he found her there, bathed in the glow of fire, that she would haunt him for the rest of his life.

Damon Salvatore x Reader

Masterlist

Taglist Open

Word Count: 2589

Author's Note: This chapter contains sensitive content. Reader discretion advised. (Contains references to menstruation and depictions of blood.)

1883

Lilian was thirteen the first time her heart was broken. It would not be the last, though it was certainly the first.

Damon had taught her many things in the years she had known him, between his yearly visits to the convent and the two years they spent huddled in a small house that did not belong to them. He’d taught her how to properly sew using an awl, a skill he’d picked up during his short lived time in the Confederacy; he’d taught her how to bargain with vendors at the farmers market and how to dance the waltz and the meaning of the word titillating.

He taught her that sometimes, the right thing to do is also the hardest.

They’d spent the day at a traveling circus, with Damon guiding Lilian from one tent to another. She had never seen anything quite like it before, and never would again, and was captivated by the bright colors, the cacophony of music, and the sheer thrills of each act. More than once she had begged Damon to get closer, which he obliged, and had tugged on his arm to get through the crowds. Sometimes the pink dress, a recent gift and easily the nicest article of clothing she’s ever had, was all he could see when she slipped between onlookers, curious and amazed. They had seen tigers, elephants, acrobats, jugglers, and clowns; Lilian had clung to Damon’s arm in fear when a man put his head in a lion’s mouth, and he promised not to tease her when she covered her eyes as the trapeze artist walked precariously on a high rope.

It had been the best day of her life. Lilian told him as much.

Now that they were home, the exhaustion had begun to settle in. Even though she prattled on, reminiscing the entirety of their day, she was yawning as she brushed her hair, and once she was in bedclothes, promptly came down the steps to tell Damon goodnight. He could hear her snoring only moments later.

He’d gone out, locking the door behind him, and fed, and when he returned, the house was silent and dark. The quiet crept into his bones as he moved through the living room and up the stairs, pausing at Lilian’s door to hear the low, steady beat of her heart before slipping into the opposite bedroom, exchanging his tailored pants and shirt for something comfortable. He, too, was worn out from their day, and it took only a handful of minutes before he slipped into unconsciousness.

Whimpers of pain tugged at Damon’s subconscious, his eyelashes fluttering in the darkness. He rolled over, imagining that it was a cat outside, or an active imagination, until he heard the unmistakable sound of rustling sheets from across the hall.

“Damon!”

He wasted no time in turning on the lights, the sleepiness in his eyes gone in a blink. He crossed the bedroom and the hall, and threw open Lilian’s door just as quickly, the doorknob smacking the wall with the force he’d thrown it open. Her light was on, casting long shadows over the floor, but he didn’t need to see to realize what was wrong.

The smell of blood, thick with iron and something unfamiliar, reached Damon’s nose before he’d even torn the door open. Fear gripped his heart, threatened to pull it from his very chest, as he moved closer. The smell was not enticing, the way it usually was, but it was unmistakable.

Lilian was sitting up in bed. Her face drained of color, her lips trembling with fear and pain. Her hands gripped her stomach, bunching the blanket at her waist, and she leaned forward as though she were trying to hold closed a wound on her abdomen.

Between her legs, the thick quilt she had wrapped herself in for two years was stained with blood. Not as much as he had feared, not enough to suggest she had been in any way mortally wounded, but enough that Damon understood right away what had happened.

“Damon-“ she hiccupped, her palm digging into her cheek, “Som-something’s wrong-“

“Lilian-“ Their voices overlapped, his attempts to be soothing washed by her shrill cries of despair.

“Am I dying-“

“No, Lilian-“

“There’s so much blood-“

“It’s alright-“

“Please,” she continued, ignoring his attempts to quiet her tears and pleas. “It hurts!”

He dropped onto the bed beside her, the wooden frame protesting, and seized her face in his hands. “Calm down.”

He hadn’t meant to do it. But her tears stopped immediately, the wrinkles of pain smoothing her expression until her face was placid. Compliant.

He let go, hands hovering but not touching, and swallowed thickly. Instead, he gently pulled her grip from the blanket, brushing her hands with his thumb, feeling the thin scar on her knuckles.

“You’re okay,” he smoothed her hair back, the way he always did when she was upset, his voice hushed. “It’s alright, Lilian.”

“What’s happening to me?”

Damon licked his lips and shook his head. “It’s okay, you’re not hurt. Stay here,” he said. “I’m going to run you a bath, we’ll talk once you’ve cleaned up.”

“You promise?”

“Promise.”

Damon went to the bathroom, starting the water, and dug through the cabinets, searching for something, anything, that would help. Surely the mother had been a fertile woman— there. He found what she’d need, and placed it, along with a towel and clean clothes, beside the tub. He explained, as well as he could, what to do with the bandages and belt he’d found. As the bathroom door closed behind Lilian, Damon quickly removed her sheets, and tossed the soiled quilt with the rest of the clothes that needed washing. He brewed hot water, and made a compress to ease her pain.

He was putting fresh sheets on the bed when she came back into the room, her hair still dripping, hands clinging to the front of her nightdress. He sat on the bed, and rolled back the new quilt so she could slide under it.

“I was afraid,” she said. She had scrubbed at her face, her eyes red, but not brushed her hair, and Damon did his best to comb through it with his fingers without tangling them in knots. “What’s wrong with me?”

“There’s nothing wrong with you,” he mumbled, carefully picking apart a tangle in her hair. “It’s normal, flower.”

“Normal?” She scoffed at the absurdity. Damon had not considered that she was so unaware of something like menstruation, though he suspected that the young girls of Sisters of Quiet Mercy were left in the dark on quite a few aspects of life, particularly those that the church considered to be… Sinful, or dirty.

“It happens to all girls, eventually,” he said. “Most, anyway.”

“What does it mean?”

Damon frowned, tucking a piece of hair behind her ear. “It means you’re a woman, now,” he said thoughtfully, dropping his hand to his lap. “You can… Have children, if you… Fall in love, and want to be a mother.”

Lilian stared hard at the quilt between them. Damon knew very little about women, in terms of their anatomy and especially menstruation, and even less about young girls. “I don’t know,” she said. “I don’t feel like a grown up.”

Damon studied her face. It was less round than it had been the first time he saw her, her features becoming more defined, though her youth shone brightly in her eyes. “You should sleep.”

“Will you stay? Just- just until I fall asleep?”

He nodded as she laid back in the bed, and he stood to tuck the quilt around her. She held the compress against her abdomen with both hands, still looking unsure, but Damon made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed, one foot on the floor.

Eventually, she was asleep once more, and Damon watched her torso rise and fall in deep breaths.

The smell of blood was faint, but still present, and Damon closed his eyes, batting it away. He’d never once considered drinking from Lilian. She trusted him, and he’d sworn to take care of them both, and that did not include causing her any number of pain.

She was no longer a little flower. She had blossomed, become something between woman and child, and Damon was disconcerted to think what might have happened if he’d been out of the house. Perhaps she’d have panicked, perhaps she’d have gone running into the street and gotten hurt. Perhaps he would have come home to bloodsoaked sheets and an empty house.

What would happen, if she cut herself on a kitchen knife, or pricked her finger with a needle? That was different from what had happened tonight. That blood would be rich and tempting. He had always been confident that she would never be one of his victims, but now he was unsure.

And, what would he do, as she made her way through her teenage years? If a young man wanted to court her, if she wanted to have friends or go to school or work? How would he handle not knowing where she was or if she was safe? Who she was with?

Furthermore, how long could he stay, here, in Chicago, unaging and unchanging as she continued to grow into a woman? People would certainly notice, and he couldn’t afford to draw attention, especially not suspicion. Not if it would put her at risk.

Damon left Lilian alone in the darkness of her bedroom, moving quietly toward his own, as he made up his mind. He eased himself back into the cold bed, trying to find some semblance of comfort. He did not sleep.

They went to breakfast first thing the following morning. Damon had picked out a dining establishment that neither of them had entertained before, one where they could sit outside, under the sun. Lilian had been wide-eyed when they brought food to the table, an array of egg fritters, waffles, bacon, and fruits that would’ve been sizable for an entire family, and Damon watched with amusement as she tried bits and pieces of everything, not bothering to take her time as she ate and ate. Damon leaned back in the weather worn chair, eyeing the surrounding company, while Lilian gave not a care in the world and indulged in her gluttony.

Two tables away, a pair of burley men, no doubt factory workers, conversed over a table that was almost comical compared to their size. “I’ll be back,” Damon said, buttoning his jacket as he made his way over to them. Lilian paid no mind, reaching for her cup. He spoke to them only briefly, but they were looking at him in a way Lilian had never seen anyone look at Damon before- as though he were the only thing around for miles- and Damon returned by the time her plate had cleared.

“Come on, flower,” he said, finishing the coffee that had gone cold. Lilian rose from her seat and followed him. He led her through the cobblestone streets, passing by flower shops and bakeries, places they had passed a thousand times and never been inside, and he answered as many of her questions about womanhood as he could, assuring her that the answers would come as she continued to grow, until she had exhausted the subject and become much more interested in what caused flowers to bloom and what make bread smell so heavenly, until she realized they had stepped onto a street that no longer smelled of roses and vanilla. Instead, the street became less smooth and the sun less bright, the crowd thinned, and as they passed beneath a bridge, the hairs on her arms stood on end.

“Damon?”

He kept walking, holding her hand in his, and her steps became weary. He pulled her forward still, even when she stopped walking all together and tried to pull her hand away.

“Where are we going?” Her voice shook, and suddenly the insurmountable trust and faith she had placed in Damon wavered for the first time in years. “Where are you taking me? Damon?”

Damon stopped then, still holding tightly to her hand, not crushing it but unrelenting. He softened, turned toward her, and knelt down. Being at eye level often meant only one thing: that he was about to say something she would not like.

“I’m sorry.” His voice was quiet as he smoothed her hair back. It was his way of calming her, when she was afraid of the dark, when she cried because she touched the hot stove. It was not working, however, because she heard the two burly men approaching from behind, feeling silly for not having noticed them following before. “I’m sorry, flower.”

The long shadow of Sisters of Quiet Mercy hovered ominously over them. Lilian’s eyes widened, and she yanked hard on her hand, but Damon grabbed her arm with his free hand and pulled her against him, wrapping his arms around her in a hug as she began to sob into his coat. She kept trying to pull away, though Damon suspected if she broke free, she would not run.

He could compel her. Tell her to do as he said without a fight. Make her say goodbye and relent. But the idea made his stomach churn, and when he had done it last night, completely by accident, he had felt as though he’d committed a terrible act. Compulsion was something Dracula would do, and he loathed to think that he would leave Lilian feeling as though he were a monster. Somehow, this way was better. At least this way, she would see him as a man, not a beast.

The two men had reached them, and Damon held up a hand to give them pause.

“Please,” she begged. Her resistance turned heel, and she clung to him the way she did when she woke from a bad dream in the dead of night. “Please, don’t- I want to stay, why can’t I stay? Did I do something bad?”

Damon forced himself to peel her away, holding her at arm’s length. “This will be better, in the end. You’ll see. I’m sorry,” he said, cupping her cheek. A tear rolled under his thumb. “I can’t keep you.”

“Damon, no!” At his nod, one of the men grabbed Lilian’s arm, and Damon let go as the other pulled her to her feet. “No, please! I’ll be good! Damon!”

He rose to his feet as the men tugged Lilian toward the building, her body flailing as she tried to hit them with her fists, kicked at them, even bit one of them on the hand, but they didn’t let go, no matter how hard she cried. Of course they wouldn’t, he had told them, you’ll take her inside, no matter what. Damon’s resolve shook, bent, cracked, as they half-dragged, half-carried Lilian to the doors of the convent. She was screaming his name, garbled by her pleas, her crying so severe that even her nose wept. One of them pulled open the door, and he caught sight of Sister Mary Eunace, waiting, looking at him as though he were the devil.

“Damon!”

The sound of his name echoed through the empty street. The wind carried the sound of it as it scattered leaves over his shoes. He held his breath, holding back apologies and stop, bring her back until the door slammed closed, and once more, as it always seemed to be, he was alone.

@navs-bhat @allinhishands @hereforsumbucky @lordofthunderthr

@suspiciousmuffin

[morceid]

Thomas Edison Can Kiss My Ass

Dad!Spencer x Fem!Reader

Summary: The power goes out in your house, and Spencer knows how to kill the time with your kids.

Word Count: 939

Category: fluff. very much fluff.

Content Warnings: implied smut, some swearing, pregnancy mentions, implied character death

A/N: inspired by recent asks and concepts on @subspencer​ ! i love talking about dad spencer over there lol

You woke up to an empty bed. It was normal after Didi was born but she was now 2 years old and could go through a whole night on her own. It was just something you would have to get used to with another baby in the house. 

You walked into Ollie’s nursery and saw Spencer sitting in the rocking chair, cradling the baby on his chest. You wanted to stare at the sight for hours.

“Hey. I heard him crying about an hour ago, so I came in and he kind of just fell asleep in my arms. I was able to make breakfast though. Eggs are on the counter.” He whispered as he rocked back and forth.

“I love you so much. I have to run to the store after I eat, are you gonna be okay here?”

Even though Spencer was still on call, he guest lectured online for the community college on Saturdays.

“Yeah, I’ll be fine. Didi will probably want to sit in with me anyways.” He smirked.

You woke up Didi and made sure she ate before heading out. The thunderstorm outside surprised you and you had to take the car instead of walking to the dollar general on the corner like normal. You only needed to get a couple of things like cereal and fruit snacks for Didi, so you were back before Spencer’s classes started to take Ollie from him.

Ollie was playing with his teething ring in his crib and you were sitting in the rocking chair next to him when the power went out. You heard a scream from Spencer’s office and picked up Ollie, holding him to your chest as you walked through the darkness and into the room you knew your distressed child was in.

Didi was sitting in Spencer’s lap, face red and wet with tears. He bounced his leg up and down, shushing her.

“Where did awl my fwends go?” the toddler whined.

“The power went out, Didi. They’ll be back later. It’s okay.” Spencer said, repeatedly kissing her forehead.

“What now?” You asked.

“Well, I’ll email my students with my phone, and Didi over here can finally dig into the rainy day box I have hidden in the closet! Come on, Didi!”

She leaped off of his lap and ran to your shared bedroom, Spencer in front of her. You sat on the couch in the living room, still holding Ollie. A moment later Spencer walked in holding quite possibly one of the largest boxes you had ever seen.

“Seriously? All of that just for a small power outage?”

“What? Power outages are fun!” He said, pulling out multiple candles and flashlights from the box.

Ollie started to fuss in your arms so you pulled your shirt down to reveal your breast and letting him latch on. It was easier to not wear a bra when Ollie was nursing instead of hassling with an extra clothing item. God, Spencer’s kids were just like him.

Didi had climbed onto the couch next to you, Spencer on the other side of her. He pulled a scrapbook out of the box and started flipping through it.

“This used to belong to your grandma, Miss Diana Reid. It has pictures of me when I was as little as you.”

“Really? Daddy, why were you so tiny?” Spencer chuckled at his daughter.

“Because, everyone is a baby at one time or another.”

“A baby? Like Ollie?”

“Yep. Exactly like Ollie. Momma was even a baby once. I can show you those pictures.”

“Oh absolutely not, Spencer. I love you but if you show our daughter that I might have to cover Ollie’s ears and have a talk with you.” You burst into laughter with the family around you.

“I can handle that.” He closed the leatherbound scrapbook and placed it back in the box, taking out a smaller, newer one, “Do you wanna see you as a baby, Didi?”

The four of you sat there, occasionally laughing at the pictures of before and afters of your pregnancies. 

“I think that’s all we have so far. How about a puzzle?” Spencer dug back into the box.

You watched as Didi picked out a puzzle that would show the image of a butterfly when completed. Your family was so perfect. It was everything you had ever wanted.

Eventually you presumed you had fallen asleep, because when you woke up you were back in the bed you started your day in. Spencer had taken Ollie back to his room and put him to sleep. The exhaustion from the new baby had finally subsided for just a little bit when you realized that the bedside clock read 10:12 and that you had probably slept all day. Spencer climbed into bed behind you.

“So, Spencer, what did you do with Didi after I fell asleep?” You asked, rolling over to look at him.

“Well, we finished the puzzle, and then smelled something weird from the fridge. It was a super old take-out box. Probably from before she was even born. It was a good opportunity to teach her about mold though. I threw it out and then we read practically every book on her shelves. I ordered pizza for lunch and dinner.” Spencer had never been one to like cooking.

“Is the power still out?” You noticed the lights still weren't on, and a candle had been placed on the bedside table.

“Yep.” Spencer confirmed.

“Good. We shouldn’t have power more often.”

“And what? Go back in time and kill Thomas Edison?”

“Thomas Edison can kiss my ass.”

“Not if I do first!”