#how did he fit so much disdain in four words
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i'm gonna be honest with y'all? i think i would really like operating a forklift
i bet you Would
- jacob + nathan
#how did he fit so much disdain in four words#12 letters#how#turning the most weirdly specific t-shirts into characters#drawfee#drawfee quotes#drawfee video#jacob andrews#jacob drawfee#nathan yaffe#nathan drawfee
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👵🏻👵🏻👵🏻👵🏻👵🏻
🍼 🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼🍼
Please and thank you 😊
Hi Diana darling! Of courseee, I've got you, my love ♥ Here's 15 (ok, 17, but you know how Nonna is, she always wants extra sentences for everyone!) sentences of Nonna Rosa, a direct continuation of my fuck it friday snippet: 👵🏻
“How come you never told me you’re an artist?” Buck asks him, and Tommy frowns at him until his eyes land on the painting that Buck’s close to. Then he rubs his neck, his blush deepening and not from the cold this time.
“Nonna, are you already throwing me under the bus? It hasn’t even been ten minutes since Evan’s got here” He says with a nervous chuckle, and Nonna doesn’t look even the tiniest bit apologetic.
“I haven’t started throwing you under the bus yet, Tomasino, I am merely letting Evan know about your talent”, she tells him, patting his cheek.
“And she is right, you are very talented, babe”, Buck interjects, still admiring the four or five paintings that adorn the small living room; it seems Nonna has put them in every wall space available. It gives Buck a warm feeling in his chest; it’s exactly the kind of thing Maddie would have done if he had any sort of artistic talent. “How come I never saw anything like that in your house?”
“Ah, I wouldn’t call it talent, I just… Anyway, I haven’t painted in a really long time”, Tommy shrugs, his eyes scrutinizing his works with a much more critical glance than Buck. “My… My father didn’t like it, said it wasn’t something men did. Eventually it became too much work, trying to hide it from him, and I just stopped”
There’s a smallness in his voice as he admits to that. Not for the first time, Buck privately wishes he could meet Tommy’s dad just so he could give him a piece of his mind. Tommy barely talks about him, the little Buck’s known has been pieced together by glimpses here and there, but it seemed the man tried to squash down every urge of Tommy that didn’t fit his own twisted idea of what ‘real men’ should be like. He knows he lives in this very same town, but that Tommy has no intention of extending the visit to him.
“Pah, that man was always too stupid to understand anything”, Nonna says, disdain clear in every word, but then she looks at Tommy with the softest look. “You should pick it up again, tesoro. It used to make you so happy, working through a painting, and they were always so beautiful. You deserve beautiful things in your life” She looks meaningfully at Buck, who does his best not to look like a deer caught in the headlights and smiles softly at her. (Blobs under the cut!)
And here are 21 sentences of Little Blobs, ch. 3, for you: “...A stork plushie?”
Tommy groans, sitting up in bed and blinking at Evan. His husband is lying down on his side, his hand draped over his belly as it’s become his habit in the last ten days. There’s the tiniest bump under his shirt; it’s barely noticeable, really, and they only know because they’ve been avidly looking for it ever since finding out about their blobs. But it’s there, and Tommy smiles as his hand joins Evan’s, even though he sighs exasperatedly at his husband’s idea.
“Where exactly do you plan to find a stork plushie, Evan? And how exactly would that announce your pregnancy to your family?”
Evan shrugs, as he usually does when Tommy points flaws in ideas he thought infallible.
“I don’t know, Amazon?” He says, and before Tommy can think of an answer, he’s already lighting up, sitting in bed with an excited smile. “C’mon, can’t you imagine it? We could put two little bundles in the beak and a plate saying ‘Special Delivery!’. It would be so cute!”
“You’re cute”, Tommy can’t help but say, placing a kiss on Evan’s cheek, and the way he blushes and smiles bashfully, even after eighteen months together, will never cease to make Tommy’s heart skip a beat. “But I don’t know, darling, sounds like a lot of work. And what if someone comes by and sees the plushie earlier? You know our friends have no boundaries, they just drop by whenever”
Evan hums thoughtfully, nodding and then dropping his head by Tommy’s shoulder, snuggling into his chest. Tommy cuddles him close, softly caressing his arm as the two of them try to think of another way to announce their babies that’s cute and not absurdly tacky.
“How about we throw a barbecue?”, Tommy suggests after a while. “We have two weeks before we’re ready to tell, right? So we find a way to get everyone’s shifts aligned, throw a barbecue and just… tell them?”
“Hmmm, I like the idea of a barbecue”, Evan says delightedly, and Tommy snorts; in the last few days, his husband has been liking the idea of any food. His morning sickness is a lot more subdued, only showing up with some specific foods, and the rest of the time he’s been ravenous. And the worst part is that the cravings are starting to show up; just two days ago Evan asked Tommy to go to the market to get him coconut yogurt cause he desperately needed it. Once Tommy brought it, he had to watch Evan drop Cheetos into the yogurt and eat the concoction as if it came from a Michelin restaurant.Tommy's still not over it, and he's not sure he’ll finish this pregnancy with his sanity intact.
-- I hope you enjoy it, darling, and that you have a great week! ♥ ♥
#bucktommy#tommy kinard#evan buckley#mpreg#little blobs verse#pregnant evan buckley#pregnant buck#gabby writes#make me write tag#nonna rosa
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Eustass Kid - Bitter-Sweet
Requestor: Anonymous! Reader Vibes Requested: AFAB she/her - no pronouns or bodily description was used in the final result. CW: Physical Injury, angst, amnesia (those last two are gonna be repetitive warnings.)
You remembered it only because your body ached. The concussive force of the blast had sent you flying, and the fear of that memory was seared into your mind.
Everything else was gone.
You couldn’t remember your name, or why you were somewhere that had put you in such danger. You were aware you were in a recovery room of sorts, but it didn’t feel like a hospital, and the uneasy shifting sensation left you assuming you were on a boat.
You hated water, especially the ocean, you were certain of that. Old memories floated hazily through your mind. It hurt to focus on them, but the fringes of those long term memories were clear enough to know you avoided your island’s piers and beaches.
Faces floated in and out of your mind as you stared at the ceiling. You could smell the bracing scent of disinfectant, a sweet scent of some sort of salve or lotion, and the itchy tingle of bandages and what were probably a couple casts. You could wiggle your fingers and toes, but everything simply ached.
You weren’t sure if your hazy memory was because you were in too much pain to be bothered to remember, or if it was all simply gone. A cost for having survived the blast that still rattled your soul against your bones.
You heard the door open, and turned a little, to see an impressively tall man with neon pink hair enter into the room.
“Ah, you’re awake. Don’t move,” he insists, putting his hands up after setting down the crate he’d brought in. “You took a hell of a beating and House says you gotta rest. Cap’n’s orders too.” He adds.
His demeanor and his voice are kind, and casual. Friendly. Your head throbs and you think you should know him, but no name is coming to mind. There’s a soft pang of guilt, but you didn’t consciously decide to forget so much.
“Tha-ungh.” You try to say thank you, but the act of speaking hurts and you wince instead.
“You’re welcome.” He replies swiftly. “Don’t try an’ talk. You hurt yourself more an’ Cap’n’ll kick my ass down the deck. I’m just bringing in these supplies for House, I’ll let her know yer up, and see if Killer can make you some broth at least. You’ve been sleeping for a couple’a days.”
Captain.
Something in that single word makes your chest tighten. The burning sting of tears swells up in your heart and you cried. Silently and easily, surprising yourself a little. A large finger wipes them away and the big guy in the room with you smiles down at you kindly.
“It’ll be alright (Y/N).” He assures you.
Your brows knit and he stops, tilting his head a little and looking at you. There’s a moment of silence and you slowly, and carefully, manage to get four small words out.
“Is… that my name?”
You can feel the large man beside you flinch, and he pales so fast you’re worried he’s going to pass out and collapse by your bed. He nods slowly.
“Yeah. It is.” He answers, lips and words tight. He’s trying not to sound as worried as he is, a strained kind smile doing it’s best to bring color back into his face. “I… I have to go get the doc, so - so jus’ stay here. You’re banged up pretty bad, so please don’t move.”
He nearly bolts out of the room and you lay on the bed, staring at the ceiling, wondering who you were a few days ago. What thoughts did you think three days ago, before something happened and changed it all. Did you smile easily? What sorrows gnawed at the edges of your laugh? What joys filled it out?
How could you know words, and a disdain for the sea, and not know your name? Or the name of someone who obviously cared for you enough to react like that man had?
You mumbled the name the pink-haired man had said, letting it sit and roll on your tongue. It felt new and familiar, strange and fitting. A heavy sound because you’d forgotten it, pulling the edges of your lips down as tears slipped quietly down your face.
A commotion pulls you from your heavy thoughts. You can’t make out words, but there’s a cacophony of loud voices drifting into the room. One rising over the rest. You can’t hear the words, but the tone cuts into the meat of your heart.
Pain.
Far more than any anger or rage, there’s just pain in the voice, rough like gravel, warm like -
- red? -
Blood. Warm and harsh, desperate and fading. Slowly fading as the other voices around the booming pain bring it down.
The door opens slowly, and a woman, much smaller than the bubble-gum pink-haired man from earlier, steps inside. Her clothing is eclectic, and she comes over to your bedside with a tight look on her face.
“Mosh says that talking is difficult for you, but can you tell me how you feel physically right now?” She asks.
You nod carefully. “Aches, but,” you lick dry lips and swallow. “I haven’t moved.”
The tight expression softens a little and she gives you a bit of a smile. “Wiggle some for me, make sure your toes and fingers move, let me know if anything hurts sharply. The ache and bruising is gonna persist for a couple of weeks.”
You do as instructed, wincing a little at jolts and tingles here and there, but nothing hurt enough to make you cry out or swear.
“… Who?” You prompt and watch the small lady flinch just as much as Mosh.
“House,” she answers. “My name’s House, kiddo, and I’m the doctor on this ship.”
“Ship.” You grunt the word, and House puts a hand over her face.
“Yeah, it took a while for you to adjust. Not a fan of the ocean, but… you managed before, I’m sure you will again.” She takes a deep breath and lets it out slow. “Memory loss is sticky business. I can’t sit here and say it’ll come back in a couple days or weeks. It might not ever.”
House pulls a stool over and sits down beside your bed. She’s worn and rough, tanned and probably younger than she looks, hair a little bedraggled, and you can see the weight on her shoulders.
Weight that is likely due to you.
“You’ve been a part of this crew for almost two years now. So I have a ship full of people who are concerned about your memory loss. Especially one very loud, very proud, Captain.” House gives you a moment and her expression softens, her smile gets warmer. “You are under no obligation to try to be who you were, no matter what anyone else wants, but all of us will answer any questions you have, and we’ll do whatever we can for you.”
You nod a little.
“For now though, we need to get some food in you, and some water too.” House pats your hand softly. “I’m going to limit your visitors for another week, but you’ll only need to stay in here for today I think. You’re healing up neatly, and I’m not worried about infections or anything.” She stops, looking at you and making sure she has your attention.
“But don’t go thinking the crew’s avoiding you, they’re just going to give you space for a few more days, okay?”
You nod again, moving again to give her a little thumbs up.
When House left, Mosh came back in with some broth. He told you Killer made it, but House wanted to limit new faces and names for a bit, and give you a chance to adjust. You ate, drank what was provided, got some medication from the doctor, and slept a little more.
House checked you over after your second meal of broth, and gave you some hard tack to nibble on. She changed your bandages with help from someone named Hip, who was a younger looking woman with short blonde hair.
Hip talked a lot, just about the ship itself, and House would cut her off if she started losing you. Afterward she just repeated what she already said, trying to help it feel more familiar.
Breakfast the next day was more than broth, but not by much. Dry toast and some juice, and afterward House and Hip escorted you to the bathroom and helped you get cleaned up. House was pleased with your wounds, and once you dried off they put far less bandages on before helping you get dressed.
Hip escorted you through the ship, showing you were the mess hall was, and how to get to the main deck. She put names to faces as the two of you walked, assuring you there wouldn’t be a test or anything and not to stress.
The crew was a little smaller than you expected, at least numerically. With just a couple exceptions everyone was much taller than you were.
A couple of days later you were on regular food, and regular meals with the rest of the crew. You knew most all of them by name now, and people were slowly sharing stories with you about what you’d been up to for the last few years of your life - so far as they knew it.
You weren’t scared. It was comfortable, but also frustrating. None of your memories were old. They were all just from the last few days.
At least one person was avoiding you. The captain. You’d seen him once, and he barely even glanced at you before storming off. Something ached when you saw him. A pain so deep you would’ve bled to relieve it.
A week later you stood at the back of the ship, hours after dinner, watching the moon and the waves. Every glimpse you caught of him made your heart ache so deeply that guilt ate at you for hours afterward. You wanted to remember, to relieve the ache in your heart, to release the guilt that was gnawing at your stomach no matter what anyone else said to you, trying so hard to assure you. If you could remember one thing. Just one thing.
Anything.
If you could just remember his-.
“Mouse.”
The voice and the word slammed into your body like a second bomb. You couldn’t stop the pained sound that slipped from your lips and bent your body. You caught yourself on the railing and nearly collapsed trying to turn around fast enough.
You could already hear heavy steps turning away and your arms reached out for him, even before you could make your legs move.
“Wait!” You force the word out and he stops, turning after a second. Turning, just in time for you to grab the deep red coat around his shoulders. “Wait, dammit.” You insist, holding tight onto the coat, shivering between pain and fear, sorrow and loss.
“Stop… avoiding me.” You demand, tears stinging your eyes as you look up at him. The golden orbs are sunk deep and are dull, heavy circles around his eyes. He almost looks gaunt, and the moonlight against skin that is desperately pale from being locked in his workshop for at least week, makes your stomach knot. “Please.”
“I’m sorry.” He says, in a voice more sand than gravel. Worn down and quieter.
You shake your head, holding onto his shirt. You couldn’t stop him if he decided to walk away, but you were going to just drag behind him if he tried to leave at this point.
“Then… be sorry by my side.” You grumble. “Idiot.” You feel him flinch under your fingers.
“Eh!?” He snaps.
“Idiot!” You repeat, looking up at him.
You can see anger bubbling up into his expression. “Stop calling me that!” He barks.
“I’m calling you an idiot cause you’re an idiot!” You bark back, yanking on his shirt so harshly you actually yank him forward. Anger is replaced by surprise and his metal hand clamps down on the railing stopping him short of falling into you.
“I’m not a-.” His words break in his mouth, tears bubbling down your cheeks.
“Idiot.” You say quietly, shaking his shirt as he moves enough to be kneeling in front of you. “I miss you. I miss you even though I can’t remember you,” you sob shaking the now immovable man in front of you. “If it hurts me this much, how much worse was it for you?”
One warm, calloused, gentle hand rests against your back, pulling you carefully into a hug.
“Idiot.” You sob in relief.
#Forget Me Not Event 2024#reader insert#x reader#amnesia#one piece fanfiction#request event#eustass kid#bitter-sweet#angst
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Tale of Two Champions - ScfWhip
I honestly had similar stories in this au' circling my brain for months, but I finally got to it, yay.
https://archiveofourown.org/works/55722241
fWhip tired every excuse he had in his sleeves but there was no reasoning with Gem. “Come on sis, I'll be fine, like literally no one ever recognises me…” he did still try though. Gem might be impossible to convince but fWhip could argue with her the whole day long.
“No,” she said sternly as she turned to poke her finger onto his chest. “You'll listen, and you'll stay with Scott until me and Jimmy catch whoever's targeting the former arena champions,” she could be pretty scary if she wanted to.
“Come on Gem, I can take care of myself, I don't need some pompous prick looking after me,” fWhip rolled his eyes. This was getting ridiculous in his eyes.
“He's not looking after you, he's the current champion, therefore also a potential target. Both of you are under constant watch,” Gem finally seemed to see fit to say he'd be stuck with the person who probably liked him less than the killer did. “I'll sooner eat my hat than let anything happen to you,” she finished with one last poke and marched on. fWhip had no excuse to not follow. He could just hope the killer would be caught quickly.
“Why are you hiding us at the arena? Wouldn't whoever's looking for Scott just come right here?” fWhip questioned, hoping Scott wasn't there yet.
“Wouldn't whoever's looking for you two assume we hid you away from the arena? Besides, it's just the meeting spot and I wasn't the one who came up with it,” Gem's response didn't feel fWhip with confidence in Council’s decision making process.
Seeing Jimmy, his freaking ex, member of the council, head of law enforcement, talking to Scott. Whom fWhip only knew from TV and posters. Had his confidence sinking even lower. Of course he had to have been dragged out from work, in very casual clothes, when he had to meet Jimmy for the first time since the break up.
And not to mention Scott was like the walking image of the perfect champion. With his perfect form fitting trousers. Did they have to be so tight? Thigh high boots. Why the heel? You're tall enough you pompous prick, fWhip thought as he eyed his successor. The perfectly fitted blazer and stupidly perfect, soft looking bar. And his stupidly perfect, handsome face?
Next to him fWhip looked like some vagrant. With his heavy boots and loose jeans with more holes than they had when he brought them. Not to mention the old tank top and how messy his hair was. Not that it was ever properly styled for more than five minutes. All in varying shades of black and dark red. Well, save for his cyan hoodie that painfully matched Scott's hair. Sleeves rolled up even if it was barely hanging on around his elbows, exposing the shimmering tattoos on his arms. And he had his glasses on and likely looked low-key like a bit of a nerd. Which he was but it didn't mean he wanted to look too much like one.
And of course Gem instantly started talking to Jimmy about how to best get them to the hiding spot they prepared. Leaving fWhip to awkwardly stand next to Scott. Whose unfair tallness was even more apparent up close.
“So you are still alive,” Scott huffed with what had to be disdain in his voice.
“What? Disappointed you didn't win the title from me?” fWhip bit back, doing his best to match vitriol Scott spoke with even if he personally didn really care how Scott felt about him just stepping down with no fight.
“Maybe at the start I was, but now I don't really care,” Scott seemed to shrug and fWhip just tensed a bit more, kind of ready for a fight.
“That's good because I'm not fighting anyone, ever again,” he huffed just to have the last word. And thanks to Gem and Jimmy moving in to explain their elaborate plan he did.
The plan was that four cars with Council agents disgusted with illusions to look like them would leave first. With a car with real them leaving a bit later. Scott and fWhip just nodded as Jimmy spoke. Then they would be practically on house arrest in a secret safe house somewhere in the city.
“And how long are we expected to stay there?” Scott asked what fWhip was thinking.
“Until we catch the guy,” Jimmy's answer only had fWhip groan in annoyance.
“Come on Jim, some of us have actual jobs they have to go to,” he grumbled. He didn't really believe this was the first thing he said to Jimmy since.
“We informed your job you'll be unavailable for the foreseeable future, they agreed to mark it as a vacation without taking any of your days off away,” of course Gem had an explanation for everything.
fWhip just huffed out an annoyed puff of smoke. Perks of fire magic. You can breathe smoke at anyone who annoys you. Like a twin sister or ex boyfriend. Or icy, pompous prick. “Let's just get this over with then,” he grumbled.
Jimmy and Gem then left to coordinate the decoys and fWhip was left alone with Scott. And several guards who were probably there to make sure they didn't run away.
“They probably don't have a plan in case the killer finds us anyway,” Scott said in a hushed tone. At least he looked a bit worried.
“Knowing Jim? Absolutely,” fWhip huffed. “I guess we can try to knock them out or something,” he shrugged.
“I was about to say you better stick close to me in case it happens,” Scott rolled his eyes.
“Why? I can protect myself.”
“Didn't you say you didn't want to fight anyone ever again?” Scott's expression was too serious for fWhip to even attempt reading it as a dig at him. Bastard was totally serious. And it was pretty nice of him to offer.
“Well, I'll fight if my life depends on it, duh,” he rolle dnia eyes but quickly added, “but I appreciate the thought,” to not look like a complete jerk. It wasn't Scott's fault Gem and Jimmy decided to get them stuck together.
They spend the rest of the wait awkwardly standing there in silence. fWhip holding onto his bad. Scott just standing like an ice statue.
The drive wasn't any more exciting. Just the silent in the back seat as he agents drove. They weren't even playing the radio so talk about awkward silence.
The safehouse was a pretty nice suburban home with tall fence and electric gate.
“Leave the key in the car, remote for gate and garage too,in case we have to get away quickly,” Scott told the agents. They tried to argue but fWhip backe dthe idea up. At least the two of them had some braincells in this whole operation.
The rest of the day was pretty boring. There was no TV in the house. No radio. No internet. They were not allowed to turn their phones on since they turned them off at the arena. At least there were cards and board games so they had something to do until it was time to sleep. fWhip really hoped Gem and Jimmy would catch the killer soon. He was going to go crazy if he had to keep this up for too long.
At least Scott seemed to be equally bored and annoyed by the time they separated to get ready for bed. Annoyingly enough, no one thought to get them a change of clothes. Scott had to be real comfy in his outfit, fWhip thought. He himself was totally fine sleeping in his jeans. In case anyone attacked at night.
He was almost sleep when someone sneaked into his room. “Off the bed, stay low and quiet,” Scott whispered as he shook fWhip. “I think we've been found. I heard commotion, and new voices,” he explained as fWhip follows his instructions, dragging his bag with him.
“Think we can't get to the car?” fWhip asked, focusing his hearing. He heard nothing. Scott's room was closer to the front of he house.
“Can you drive?” Scott asked back.
“Yes. You don't?”
“Everyone was pushing me to focus on magic training,” Scott sighed. “If we get out of here alive I'll go and learn, we need to move,” he hissed, pulling fWhip to the window. There were barley audible footsteps outside the door
Scott seemed to have it all figured out as he left his window open. So they could sneak back in. They assumed whoever the intruders were already searched that room. And they were right. The door just closed as they dared sneak in.
They waited a bit by the door listening for footsteps, ready to fight. But no one came in. When they heard doors open and close the peeked out. Clear. So they quickly and quietly made their way to garage.
“Once we're out turn my phone out and call Gem,” fWhip said tossing his back in Scott's lap. Garage door and front gate already opening as h started the car. He didn't really have time to bother with seatbelts at the moment.
“Got it,” Scott nodded. “Head down,” he added as he started looking for fWhip's phone.
fWhip ducked enoug to still see the road and drove them out quietly, as to not alarm anyone in the house. Idiots didn't leave anyone outside.
“She's ‘twinny’ in my contacts,” fWhip said without Scott needing to ask.
Scott nodded and called Gem. No answer. Was she in trouble too? Did someone mess with the signal? “What now?” Scott grumbled, looking back. Yup, they were being pursued already.
“The arena? At least there's space there, just in case, keep trying to call her,” fWhip sighed. Of course they couldn't contact help.
The arena looked creepy at night. “To the center,” fWhip said, ready to be exhausted and in a lot of pain the next day. He hated physical exercise.
Which was clear when he started running out of breath about halfway. Scott just grumbles something and the next second fWhip was over his shoulder, carried like a sack of potatoes. “Oi, I'm not that tired,” fWhip huffed but his lungs were saying otherwise. He was not getting out of bed tomorrow.
“Shut up and tell me if they're getting too close,” Scott huffed and ran possibly even faster than before. Was fWhip's lack of condition holding him back? Show off.
The arena center instantly illuminated as soon as they walked in. “Well well well, council really saved us some work putting both the last and present champions together,” a voice laughed as fWhip tried to recall how to breathe once sat in the sand.
“And you are?” Scott called out, ice covering the door they got in through. And generally covering them as a shield from any potential attacks from outside the arena.
The person didn't seem to like it. “You insolent little… No. It doesn't matter if you know, you'll both die tonight anyway, and tomorrow I'll be the champion,” they cackled as fWhip and Scott exchanged stares and shrugs.
“Can't you just challenge me normally?” Scott asked and fWhip instantly knew what he was doing. Buying time. So fWhip hid as much as he could behind him and tried sending a text to Gem. It got through. ‘Been got, at the arenaz whole organization, Scott's distracting the leader’ he sent, once he knew it would work. Now they had to just wait.
“What? You think you can win against me? You'll freeze before you can,” the man in charge scoffed.
“I don't think he will,” fWhip grinned and snapped his fingers. Instantly the outer edge of the arena burst in flames. He was starting to get chilly from Scott's ice surrounding them anyway. “Go crazy,” he chuckled, patting Scott's back.
And go crazy Scott did. The few times fWhip saw him fight, even if just on the TV at the tattoo shop he worked at now, he didn't see Scott pull out maneuvers and spells this crazy. It was honestly pretty impressive. But it also meant he had to put effort into keeping the flames going.
At the end of the fight, when the leader got knocked out Scott still had some frost on his hands and face and his breath came out with puffs of cold.
And it would seem Gem got everyone into gear as fast as she could and every member of the mysterious organization present got caught.
“You okay?” fWhip asked, sitting next to Scott. Gem and Jimmy had everything else handled now.
“I think so,” Scott nodded with a clearly forced smile. “Could use a blanked,” he joked, that fWhip knew. But he still cradled his stupidly pretty face in his hands. Melting the ice build up on there
“No you're not, you're bleeding,” fWhip sighed and used a trick not even Gem knew he had. Long time ago he figured out he could heal small scrapes with his flames. And used it now on Scott. “Not a word to anyone,” he grinned, not mentioning Scott's hands coming up to lay on his as he still held ice pricks face.
“Fine, but I'm buying you coffee tomorrow, it'd be a much more troublesome fight without you here,” Scott countered with a genuine smile.
“Uhum, I hate to break the moment but I'll need you two to get up and see the medics,” Gem interrupted, arms crossed over her chest. She might have looked annoyed but fWhip knew she was glad they were fine.
“Yeah yeah,” fWhip sighed and got up, and offered a hand to Scott but he didn't need it, already up before fWhip. He just rolled his eyes and dutifully went to see the medics even if he was totally fine.
Medics didn't hold them long, quickly declaring them good to go home. At least some good news. Now, how does he get home at this hour…
“My place isn't too far and I have a free guest bedroom if you don't feel like being alone after all that,” Scott offered as fWhip wondered how to get to his apartment. “And I can add breakfast to that coffee,” he added with the most awkward smile fWhip ever saw.
“You know what, sure, it'd be a pain for me to get to my place anyway,” fWhip shrugged and once Jimmy cleared them as free to leave the scene. They walked to Scott's.
It was indeed not at all far away. And pretty cozy for a high rise, luxury apartment. The guest bed was damn comfy too. Not that fWhip could sleep at all. Even after a shower and changing into comfier clothes Scott lent him he kept tossing and turning as his brain wondered what would happen if Scott didn't come for him.
“Damn it,” fWhip muttered and decided Scott probably wouldn't mind if he makes himself some tea.
To his shock Scott was already in the kitchen, sipping on some tea. Looking exhausted. “Can't sleep too?” He asked with a weak smile.
fWhip nodded. “Can't stop my brain from thinking,” he sighed and glanced at the kitchen.
“Go for it,” Scott nodded and yawned.
fWhip thought for a second and decided that it was too late for tea. “I have a better idea if you're willing to listen,” he offered. Scott nodded so he continued. “We can just sleep in one bed, might calm our brains to have someone else there, but feel free to refuse I won't be offended,” he quickly rambled out.
Scott blinked a few times as he processed what fWhip had just said. Then he looked at his tea, grimaced and nodded. “We can at least try,” he agreed.
In all honesty, until they were together in Scott's bed fWhip didn't really process that sharing a bed entailed them both being in it. At once. And that Scott only had shorts and a t-shirt on, same as fWhip. But once the initial shock passed it was shockingly easy to fall asleep like that. Staring at Scott's face. It was really nice up close, okay.
fWhip woke up, mildly confused, with something cold touching him. Cracking one eye open he got met with a mess of cyan hair. Scott, his brain supplied as he remembered last night. The current magic arena champion, his successor even if they never fought each other, was cuddling up to fWhip. They were in his bed. Some crazy group tried killing them last night.
Who would have thought the ice prince would be cuddly in the morning, fWhip smiled to himself as he just let Scott cuddle him. Who knew if he ever got a chance to share a bed with Scott again.
Not that he got a long time with the cuddles. Scott soon started to stir awake and abruptly sat up once he realized he was cuddling fWhip and not his mass of pillows of varying sizes and shapes.
“Morning,” fWhip yawned, stretching slightly but did not even try to get up.
Scott looked at him with wide eyes. “Morning,” he said, whole face red in embarrassment. “I should have mentioned I can get grabby…” he sighed.
“Don't worry about it, I don't mind,” fWhip waved it off.
That didn't seem to convince Scott. “We should go get breakfast…” he muttered and fWhip sighed.
“Or it can wait and you can cuddle more if you want, I really don't mind he offered with a grin. Scott was absolutely adorable when not putting up the champion persona.
“Really?” He asked and fWhip nodde. In like two seconds Scott was once more cuddled up to him. “You're warm…” he sighed.
“Yeah, I know,” fWhip nodded. Mission success he thought.
In the end neither of them felt like cooking so they went out for brunch. It was a bit late to call it breakfast. Scott took them to a place that, in his words, had best blueberry pancakes in town. Couple bites in fWhip was inclined to agree.
Or maybe he was enjoying spending time with Scott when he wasn't dressed as champion but instead in baby blue cardigan, beige slacks and tenis shoes. Who knew. He'd have to come by couple more times to really decide. Coffee was pretty good too.
“So what now? We just go back to living like we used to?” Scott asked, poking his pancakes with a fork.
fWhip shrugged. “I certainly wouldn't mind having pancakes with you again,” he grinned, hoping he read Scott's intentions correctly. “Or cuddling again,” he added as Scott blushes a little, making him blush harder.
“That would be amazing,” Scott nodded with the cutest smile ever.
fWhip was about to offer they exchange numbers when, “aren't you two adorable?” Gem was suddenly next to their table. “Media will certainly love you two going out more.”
“Any news of what that organisation was?” fWhip ak
Sked to move the topic off of personal topics.
“No clue, they all suddenly died while in police custody, but that's Jimmy's problem. He's gonna be so salty his exes got together while he struggles to try asking Tango out for coffee,” she grinned and fWhip groaned. Of course.
“You and Jimmy? Wow,” Scott whistled.
“Ditto,” fWhip rolled his eyes but could see what Scott meant. fWhip never looked like someone who'd date a cop.
“I'll leave you two to your flirting, but next time let me know before gossip radio channels do, okay?” Gem sighed and left with a wave.
Scott groaned. fWhip just nodded. Media was one of the top reasons he quit being the champion. “Media's why I don't hate you for just stepping down,” Scott explained with a deep sigh.
fWhip hummed and passed his phone to Scott. “Put your number in and maybe I'll agree to a friendly spar. But only because it's you,” he grinned. Scott instantly perked up at that.
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i might say something stupid | challengers (2024)
wrote a little song fic from one of my asks and it has not been proofread or anything so my apologies if it is awful but a win is a win because i finally actually wrote something. it’s inspired by charli xcx’s song, ‘i might say something stupid’ ^_^ okay enjoy!!!!
fic below the cut !!
January, 2007
Art Donaldson stares at his reflection in the bathroom mirror. He pulls at the collar of his salmon-coloured shirt. Nothing feels right. He’s meant to be at a party, celebrating the latest win of his best friend’s girlfriend. Tashi typically isn’t one for parties, but with Patrick in town, she was somehow convinced. Art felt the bitter taste of jealousy on his tongue as he swallowed back any disdain. It should be him. He should be the one parading Tashi around, admiring her every move without having to be subtle. He wants to be happy for his friend, but he can’t help his heart from sinking every time he sees the two sharing a moment, one he will never be a part of. All he wants is Tashi, all to himself. At least that’s what he has convinced himself.
Art can tell that a line has began to form outside the bathroom, so he splashes some cold water onto his face, unlocks the door, and slips back out into the crowded room, the smell of smoke and sweet perfume dancing in the air. He grabs a drink, in the hopes that it’ll help him loosen up a bit, and leans back against a wall as his eyes begin scanning the crowd. He spots Tashi, as beautiful as ever, dancing among the bodies, her long brown hair gracefully flicking from side to side. Then, his attention is drawn to Patrick. His large, firm hands gripped Tashi by her waist, as he gently sways along beside her. Art bites his tongue so hard he swears he can taste blood. He’s happy for his friends, he truly is, but no amount of cheap wine could drown out the jealousy he feels.
His eyes trace invisible etchings in the air as his gaze firmly follows his best friend’s hands. He thinks of how often he used to feel them, grabbing and playfully punching at him. His mind is lead to the time he once felt them on his face, so tender and gentle, much like the lips that accompanied them. He shakes his head forcefully, as if to almost shake the thought away. He only thought about that because that was when they first met Tashi. He didn’t want Patrick like that. He couldn’t. His best friend who meant the world to him, even if he did want anything more, he couldn’t risk ruining a friendship like that. He feels a shiver run down his spine as he watches the two share a passionate kiss. He doesn’t know what to do, or why he was even invited to the party in the first place. No matter what, or who, he wants, he can’t have it.
August, 2019
“What were you for?”. The same four words repeatedly circle Patrick Zweig’s mind. He sits in the back of his Honda CRV, a location so fitting for the pathetic mess of a man he has become, trying to make some sense of what Art was saying to him. The man he once knew so well, whom he shared his youth with. The man who reached the top and seemed to have it all.
Patrick had gotten used to the life he made for himself. He knew who he was, and he was glad he didn’t have anyone to hold him back from that, but a part of him wishes things were different. He wishes he could worship someone like that. He wishes he knew what he was for. Long gone were the days he felt happy, before he faded into the background of others’ lives. He tells himself that it’s tennis he’s talking about. Like how tennis was what he spoke to Art about in the sauna. He often found it hard to distinguish between tennis and life, so he allowed them to obscure one another. That way, he could always just assume it was tennis.
Patrick felt a chill run through his body. He blamed it on the weather. He found his mind clouded with ‘what ifs’. What if he never invited Tashi to their hotel room that night. What if he never felt his lips interlock with those of his best friend. Maybe then he could have told him the truth. How he liked boys. With nothing to make it weird. What if he told him anyways, despite it all, and it was weird, but okay. What if he didn’t stay silent in the sauna earlier that day. What if he told the truth. How he knew exactly what he was for. Who he was for. Maybe if he spoke to Tashi. Maybe she would laugh in his face and tell him to get lost. Or maybe she would understand.
#challengers#art donaldson#patrick zweig#tashi duncan#josh o'connor#mike faist#tashi donaldson#zendaya#artrick#luca guadagnino#challengers blurb#challengers fic#challengers fanfiction#art donaldson x patrick zweig#art donaldson x tashi donaldson#patrick zweig x tashi duncan#patrick zweig x art donaldson#challengers fanfic#fanfic#charli xcx#song fic#brat#i might say something stupid#not beta read#plz be nice#Spotify
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The Punk and The Suit 7
Kristoph took Kieran to a suit shop with a tailor.
Kieran groaned walking in, “But I have a suit”
“And it fits you like shit by your own words. You have a professional art show and you need to look the part.”
At this time the shop keep approached Kristoph, “How can I help you sir?”
Kristoph side stepped and pointed to Kieran, “My associate will be needing a suit, a few shirts, a couple of vests, and a selection of bow ties.”
Kieran shouts from behind Kristoph, “Are you filing my whole closet with stuffy suits?”
The shop keep gave Kieran a look over, unable to hide the disdain in his face, “This will be some work. Does the sir know his measurements?”
Kieran raises an eyebrow, “Large?”
Kristoph turns back to the keep, “No, so if you don’t mind, we will take a dressing room and a tape. A pin cushion as well would be appreciated.”
The shopkeeper nods and waves for them to follow, “Right this way.”
Kieran silently mocks the keeper but follows behind. They are shown to a room with a large five paneled mirror and a small stage in the middle and an attached dressing room and are left with a measuring tape, “I shall return soon with the pins as requested.”
“Thank you,” Kristoph then turns to Kieran, “Ok, now for the moment, I need you to stand with your arms out and feet shoulder length apart.”
“Do I need to do jumping jacks?” Kieran jokes but does as he was asked.
Kristoph sets about quickly measuring Kieran, starting around the chest. This surprised Kieran slightly when Kristoph wrapped his arms around him. Kieran almost gave Kristoph a hug until he pulled back and pulled the tape tight around him.
Kristoph then relaxed the tape and let it slide down a few inches and paused. “Where are your hips?” as he patted Kieran’s side.
“What?”
“Your hips? I can’t tell in your current clothes. Where are your hip bones?”
Kieran grabbed one of Kristoph’s hands and placed it on his hip, “Here I think, what is this for?”
“I need it to find your waist measurement for your pants of course, also for your shirt and to find the length for your pants.”
Kieran nodded as Kristoph continued to measure. Once the waist measurement was done. Kristoph knelt down in front of Kieran. With one hand still on his hip, measured down his leg. Once done, he moved to the inside of his legs and measured the inseam.
Kieran couldn’t help but blush and try to make a joke to break his own tension, “I didn’t know we were at this level yet.”
Kristoph looked up, still on his knees in front of Kieran, “What level is that?” completely missing the joke. It wasn’t until he noticed Kieran’s eyes darting between himself and his crotch that he got the message.
Kristoph stood up and playfully pushed Kieran, “This is a completely normal process of getting a suit.”
Kieran smiled and winked as Kristoph tossed the tape around Kieran’s neck, “Well then maybe I should get measured more often.”
Kristoph stood there briefly looking into Kieran’s eyes. Trying to discern if this is playful fun or serious flirting. Kristoph began to lean in as Kieran’s eyes began to widen when a cough was heard.
“Pins as requested sir. Anything else I can help you with?”
Kristoph turned his face from the keeper as he finished getting the final measurements, “Yes, I would like two slacks, blazer, and vest, one black and one in a dark grey, preferably charcoal. Then four shirts, white, black, red, and blue. Bow ties and ties in matching colors. And three more vests with pattern, one floral, a Kerr tartan if you have one, and I guess surprise me.”
Kristoph gives him the list of measurements and the shop keeper walks away.
“Are you expecting me to get all of this? There is no way I’m-”
Kristoph interrupts, “No I don’t expect you to get everything but I know how much you hate suits. So I am trying to show you that suits can be more than just funerals, marriages, and lawyers.”
Kieran huffs, “Right…and how did you know what tartan was my family?”
Kristoph blushes, “Well after hearing about the IRA connection-”
“Alleged.”
“Alleged connection, I admit I got curious but I had already shred the file. The only word I found was O’Carrey, which is your last name on your social media as well, and from that, when we agreed to go clothes shopping, I figured I’d look it up and get family detail. Thinking that-”
“You could butter me up?”
“You would be more amenable to suits.”
“Ok smart guy, since you know my last name, what’s yours?”
“Really? You don’t know it?”
“Yeah really, why would I know it?”
“I figured you already did because you are always outside of the office and would have seen the sign. It’s Chryses.”
“Chryses? Like a crisis but a fancy plural form of them?”
Kristoph ignores the comment, “It means golden in Greek.”
“Your life is in a Chryses,” Kieran teases.
Kristoph nudged him, “So original,” he said sarcastically but still laughed.
A cough came from the door before it was pushed open and in wheeled a rack with the requested clothes.
“Thank you, Sir.” The shop keep wished them luck and exited, Kristoph turned back to Kieran, “Now real fast. The main suits, black and charcoal, which do you like more?”
Kristoph pulls both suits from the racks and holds them up.
Kieran shrugs, “I have a black suit at home.”
“You have a black garbage bag back at home, forget about it. If you are so attached to it, we can bring it back here and get it properly tailored but here and now, which one do you like more.”
Kieran shrugs, “Man, I don’t know.”
Kristoph walked over and gave Kieran a spin towards the center mirror. He then wrapped his arms around Kieran and draped the suits lightly across his body, “Just look, Black or Grey? Black or Grey?” repeating the colors as he moved them back and forth.
Kieran ended up picking the Charcoal Grey.
“Good, now I will show you how to have fun with the suit. First, take this, with the white shirt and black bow tie, something I know you are used to seeing.” Kristoph shoved him into the little changing room before hanging the Black suit on the rack and organizing the rest of the items as Kieran changed.
Kieran came out slowly in his socks, “I don’t think Grammo will let me in the house if I showed up like this.”
Kristoph looked at him, “Ok, you look good and I know you are uncomfortable but now think back to your old black suit. This must be better?”
Kieran looked himself in the mirror, “Only slightly. It does fit better, not so lose but otherwise just as stuffy.”
“Ok, now the fun, the vests and shirts. You can do this with the pants and blazers too but that is far too much for you. The vests, shirts, and ties are the easiest way to do this. Now try this one.”
Kristoph hands him some clothes. Kieran begins undressing in the mirror room before Kristoph yells at him, “Hey, hey, hey, in the changing room.”
Kieran raises an eyebrow, “You’ve seen my chest? Suddenly shy?”
“We are in a shop. Plus it’s a better surprise when you walk out.”
“Fine, fine, whatever.”
A moment later Kieran walked out in a black vest and shirt.
“I like this on you. It feels more you, with the punk style but also business with the monochromatic. This doesn’t need the tie as it just gets lost or you can take one of colored ties for a pop.”
Kieran walks over and picks a few things up, “I think I found a look I like that I should wear to the next function with your family.”
Kieran pops back out, he is in the charcoal suit but with a golden vest with black details, a black shirt, and a matching bow tie to the vest.
Kristoph stood up and clapped when he came out, “That looks great and you are right, that would kick things off with the family.”
“Why’s that?”
“Well with the golden last name, if you showed up dressed like that, they might think we are engaged or married and we haven’t told them. That’s the family tradition when we make that next step.”
“Oh wow! I am not sure I am ready for that commitment.”
Kristoph rolled his eyes, “Do you have any issues with the suit?”
“Well I still don’t get it. It looks only slightly better than what I have at home for five times the price if not more.”
“That’s because we aren’t done, now face the mirror.”
Kieran spins to face the center of the five full length mirrors as Kristoph walks up behind him. “Ok, just relax your arms,” Kristoph commands.
Kristoph places his chin on Kieran’s shoulder as he grabs the excess fabric in the blazer, “First we need to take this in, even though we got your measurements they of course don’t have an exact match so they give you the closest fit and then they tailor as needed.”
Kieran noticed the suit did already look better.
“Now take off the blazer.”
Kieran pulled it off and tossed it on the nearby chair.
“They will do the same on the vests and shirts you pick as well,” Kristoph repeated the process as before.
Kieran couldn’t help but think this has been the most anyone’s hands have been on his body in a while.
Kristoph bunched the material in the back and then grazed his hand over Kieran’s chest and stomach, “With just taking it in a tiny bit, your physique is much better shown and the clothes don’t look rumpled on you.” Kieran just nodded as Kristoph let go and crouched down next to his legs, “Now they will do the same here. I think it can do with a slight cinching in but let me know what you think.” Kristoph pulled the material tighter on his legs, “Just a tiny bit again shows more of your body tone though doing so also restricts some of your movement.,” Kristoph turns Kieran around with his hands, “If we tighten it just a little, you can really show your, um, assets, as you seem to like to do but still fully clothed.”
Kieran looked back and could see that with the material tightened, his ass did look great. Kristoph’s hands were on his thighs, holding the folded fabric down. It was obvious that Kristoph didn’t know he was being watched as Kieran could see Kristoph’s lusty gaze. Having his head at his groin area, was not making the situation any easier. In fact if anything it was making it-
Kieran coughed and stepped back, catching himself in thought, “Thank you,” is all he could mutter out before rushing back into the changing room, back into his normal clothes.
Kieran yelled from the room, “I think I have made my decision. I’ll take the suit, the black shirt. I’ll take the vests, just all of them. I think the floral will be great for the Art installation and I can rotate through them. Need the gold for you and your family in case we really wanna make their heads explode. I have a white shirt. I can get more later if needed. I’ll take the Gold bow tie as well but not anything else.”
“Great, I’ll let the tailor and owner know. Then let’s go get dinner. This all took longer than I expected. I am famished!”
Kieran laughed, “Famished, Ay? I know just the place.”
They leave with a receipt that Kristoph gives to Kieran with orders to pick up in a week’s time. They head over to St Paul’s Famished Potatoes.
As the reach the front of the line, a familiar face is staring at Kristoph.
“Can I take your order?”
“You run this truck too?”
The owner looks past Kristoph and both sees and starts yelling at Kieran, “You took him to Patrick first?!”
“Hey, Paul, it’s nothing personal. Paddy was just closer that day and now today we’re here.”
“Lawyer boy, you’re supposed to be impartial,”
“I am not a lawyer,” Kristoph tried to argue but was completely ignored.
“since you ate at Patrick’s and are now here, give me your honest opinion on which one is better.” Paul pointed at Kristoph.
“Uh, sure. Can I get the Pretty Fly for A French Fry?”
“Good choice. By the way Paul’s the name. I am the pretty twin. Remember that lawyer boy.”
“Will do.”
As they head over to a park bench, Kieran leans in, “Just in case this needs to be said. Don’t fucking say shit.”
Kristoph scoffs, “Of course not. I know a family feud when I see one. I’m not stupid. So what’s the story there? If you don’t mind me asking.”
Kieran shakes his head and starts talking, “They’re the eldest grandchildren. They both always wanted to open a restaurant together. I helped them with the designs actually. But they couldn’t agree on a menu or whose name should go first. So they made a bet of which ever business fails or does worse, has to join the other.”
“Well they both seem to be doing great.”
“And there’s the feud. Some of the family refuse to eat at either truck just to stay neutral. The rest of us ensure to bounce equally between them to show no family favorites. Both have their own followings and are doing great. They do work together during big events or family gatherings but the rest of the year they are at each others throats.”
“Hmm. And why not just do both menus?”
“Don’t ask me. But just remember to not say one is better than the other and if you eat at one, to eat at the other within a month. They do keep track.”
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In the Den of Dragons (Part IV)
Aegon ii Targaryen X Reader
It's your last chance to change your fate. You have a last talk with those around you, knowing if by the next morning you haven't convinced one mind to help you, you will be married off and never see the Red Keep again. You can only hope you've been clever enough through your own flawed desires to keep your freedom. But one should always be careful what they wish for.
Warnings: NSFW 18+ sexual themes, one might say. First time intercourse, p in v, oral, touching, kissing, the patriarchy as a whole. Possessiveness, power imbalance. Word count: 6000
(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3)
“What is this rumor that the prince defiled you?!” Your father gawked as soon as you closed the door. There was no holding back your disdain. The look you fixed him with was enough to take him back. The bewilderment in response aggravated you.
“Defiled now, defiled later. What does it matter as long as you are compensated to the highest bidder?”
All the confusion ended with a sigh and a roll of his eyes. “I know it is not the best fit, but surely he will die soon-”
“Words uttered by his last wife, I am sure!” You snapped, not caring if anyone beyond the four walls heard. “And what if he were to die too soon?! What if I am accused of poisoning, and you are a thousand leagues away from saving me?!” Your father turned away from your wrath, wandering back to his seat and plopping into it. You followed him, hands on your hips as you seethed from above. “Not only am I to be raped by an old man, I am to be hung till death shortly after. Is that the future you designed for me!? What you dreamed about all this time?!”
He held his hands up in a gesture to calm you. “I understand why you’re upset. But Barston has promised a great exchange for your dowry. This will bring us a hefty sum of wealth, and when he passes, it will be inherited to you. You will be the Keeper of the Clay Fort and all it’s wealth. I promise, it’s not so bad a plan as it sounds.”
“From your end! I’d like to see you on your back and open your legs for Barston! See how much the wealth is worth then!” You father put a hand to his chest and gave a choked grimace. With a huff, you jabbed at his chest. “And you’re forgetting it is my son who would be Keeper! Not me! Not you!”
“The Lord is impotent!”
“Then it will go to his brother, his nephew, his cousins! You think no one will contest me and not win!? A young woman with little experience and no surrounding connections? I will be a laughing stock before I am sent to my grave!”
He tried to reach out to you, take your hands in his but you were livid and under all the fire, panicked. You ripped your hands free and crossed your arms over your chest. “But you are a very clever girl, and so very easy to love.”
You rolled your eyes, heating in your frustration, glaring out the bright sunlit window. “Cleverness will only get me so far. There are some traps set that the only way to escape is to sever a limb.”
“You’re being dramatic.” You took a step closer, looming above him as an inquisitor before their suspect.
“Who have you been talking to, to brush me aside so easily?” It agitated him, bristling and finally showing a hint that he might take this seriously. “I have always done what is most beneficial to our house. Even as a girl I wanted to be just as important to you as my brothers.”
He jumped up, “But you are! A daughter unifies houses-”
“Sons do that too. But sons get to be lords and knights. What is there for me to aspire to?”
“Married, my darling. You should have been married years ago.” You bit your tongue. “You are getting to the age it may be too late and now there are rumors of your impurity. This is our last chance, do you understand that? You’ve refused all those before-”
“Because there were bigger and better deals to be made! I-”
“You’ve delayed. You did it because you didn’t want to be married.” There was a soft laughter from him as you looked away, pouting in shame. Perhaps there was some truth to that. “I get it. No one want to be told who they will spend the rest of their lives with. That’s just the way of things, and you should know that better than most as you imagine yourself as some great schemer.”
“Not him. Please.” The tears welled up in your eyes. “Pick any other, but not him.”
For only a moment, he faltered. His eyes dodging from yours. But then he steeled himself and gripped your shoulders tightly. “You will be married at the end of the week. We will inherit a large sum of the Clay Keepers enterprise, and in a years time, you might even thank me.”
A weight dropped in your chest. The tears fell but you wiped them away and stifled the furious fire in your gut. Without a word, you dipped your head and walked for the door. As your hand fell on the handle, you heard him quietly ask, “The prince… did he hurt you?”
It was tempting to just walk out, but there was a rumor that needed to be squashed. Rumors were like cockroaches in that way. “He sees me as a confidant.” Something your father no longer saw you as. “I help him navigate the political climate.”
Giving you a look over, he pressed, his brow knitted with concern. “And that’s all?”
Lifting your chin, you clutched the doorknob. “The prince has wounded me far less than you have today.”
The knit of concern quickly turned to a whiplash of pain. You whipped away a last stray tear and left the guest room. Only to run into Barston a few steps down the hall. He himself headed for your father. There was a different air about him today. Not his usual sour irritable way. He stood tall but hunched above you, a down-tipped smile forming on his face. Victory. He could see the tears still in your eyes and it only brought him joy.
You would kill him. By poison or slitting his throat in his sleep or burying him in a coffin of his own clay. If this man took you to be his bride, he would pay for it with his life, you swore it.
Barston sauntered up to you, looming beside as he smile down. “Keep giving me that evil eye and I’ll have both removed from your pretty head.”
You didn’t let up the glare, instead fixed him with a long look over. “I would consider that a great kindness, my lord.”
Barston scoffed, a wicked sneer forming on his yellowed and blackened teeth. “Spit venom all you like, willow witch. Enjoy it while you can.”
His rasping chuckle moved past you. Leaving you alone in the hall as you listened for the door of your fathers guest room to open and slam shut. You felt like a rat trapped in rising water, the roof of your enclosure creeping closer and closer. Such desperation kept spurring on dark thoughts. Violent thoughts. You could hope your father would see reason and free you from this bond now that you’ve gotten to talk to him. But you’d been hoping all month something would change. Perhaps you should have been doing more than fleeing to Aegon. You should have been wooing an unmarried lord all this time, your mind too muddled between fear and ecstasy to see it before. One that was not too bright and easily manipulated. As if that would make you any happier. It would be easier to live with than Barston. But not happy.
“Roots spun thick as webs.”
You startled at the soft voice beside you. She as well startled. Blinking back your welled tears, you gave her a bow. “My lady, forgive me, I didn’t catch what you said.”
Her big eyes looked behind you, to your fathers door where the mens jovial talking could be heard as murmurs. Laughter echoing past. “Was that your husband?”
You had a week. But a lot could happen in a week. Bitterly you stood firm. “Maybe. We shall see.”
She nodded, “I was having lunch with mother. She says it is a great shame to be in such a poor match.”
You hadn’t expected the Queen to still be thinking of your predicament. She certainly made no indication. “She… wouldn’t by chance be interested in helping me?”
Helaena shyly bowed her head, “Um, she said it wouldn’t be wise to interfere.”
You conceded. It would have been quite the reach. “That is true. It would upset many if she interfered in the marital affairs of other lords.”
“Perhaps he will leave you be once the wedding is over.” She had said it so hopefully, and you couldn’t help but feel it was a shame her and Aegon had been married. The two had no interest in the other, and you doubted she would even if he’d been faithful to her. They were two very different people with very different needs. They saw one another as siblings before husband and wife. It really was a shock the Faith allowed the old Valyrian tradition to go on.
“One can only be so lucky.” You mused. The way she smiled softly at you, it made you appreciate how she always allowed you to speak freely. That Helaena enjoyed you talking about your home and was so genuinely entertained by your anecdotes despite not even being a lady-in-waiting. You wondered if she’d really even be disappointed in your affair with Aegon. If maybe she had her own kept secret.
“I will miss serving under you, my lady.” She gave you a curious look. “You are very kind and humble for one born of such a high station. It was truly a privilege.”
Your compliments flustered her as much as they made her smile, anxiously playing with a strand of her long hair. “You don’t have to say that.”
“I mean it.” You assured her. “I’m going to miss you, Helaena.”
Your affirmation only warmed her more before a harrowed look came to her eyes. “If there was something I could do-”
You shook your head. You hadn’t meant to burden her with that sort of weight. “I’ll figure something out. Don’t you worry about me.” To distract her, you glanced down the direction she was facing. “Would you like me to escort you?”
She thought a moment before nodding. It took a little while before she revealed where she was going, to the gardens, where a few ladies were already waiting for her. Seeing Helaena off, wishing you could forgo all these chores and make flower crowns and find bugs with the princess, you continued on with your day as any other. No one else mentioned the development, seeing it all too plainly on your face.
Maybe you could make something out of it. You were hardly the first woman to be married off to old and wicked men for wealth. The first to taste bitter bile in her throat when touched by their husbands. In a year you’d made a home in Kings Landing. You could make one in the Clay Fort. Talk to those around him. Make friends with his enemies. It would be a slow process, but he was old. Surrounded by a youthful council ready to take his place. Those brothers and nephews and cousins.
The constant thinking of the day left you exhausted by nightfall. You dropped onto your bed with a long sigh, rubbing at your burning eyes. Tomorrow morning, you’d have your fathers answer. If you were to be given a second chance or be forced to make due.
“Um, sorry to bother you.” Lydia loomed over you, “Aegon has requested wine.”
You grumbled, making her chuckle. She went by her bed and began to dress down to her plain white chemise. “It’s a shame you can’t stick around. Aegon’s really calmed down since you two became such close friends. Who knew, all he needed was someone to talk to.”
“Yes. I do wonder what might happen once I’m gone. If he’ll go back to his old ways.” You were only his plaything. A favored one to be sure, but you made sure not to give yourself any delusions through all this. No doubt as soon as you left he’d be right back in the brothels, looking for another. A small sting nestled in your chest. Lydia gave a shrug, half muttering to herself. "I'm sure someone else might be around to talk to him."
The sting inflamed as you glared at her back. Wild thoughts nipped at you, feeling like your efforts of bonding with Aegon would go to waste now. That you deserved some reward for giving him your attention. That he was yours, not someone else's. Then you rolled your eyes at yourself, ignored her and headed for the kitchens.
When you entered his room, Aegon rushed from his balcony, making strides across the room. You set the cup down and began pouring. Aegon came up to you but stopped a few feet away, not saying anything. He was standing awkwardly with his hands behind his back and having a stiff time meeting your eyes. You raised a brow to him as you poured a second cup. “Is something wrong?”
“I uh… got you something.”
You stopped pouring, surprised. He pulled around his hand, a slim golden chain dangling from his fingers. At the bottom hung a small and simple gold pendant of a bird in fight. It reminded you of the little wrens of your home, though it wasn’t as plump as one. The many round little brown birds chittering their sweet songs in the boughs of the willows. You often talked of them when you talked of home. He must have noticed. You smiled warmly as you took it and brought it closer, admiring his gift.
“I remember you saying not to get you anything too expensive looking because someone might claim you stole it.”
Feeling a warmth flooding your veins, you smiled at him. “This is very sweet, Aegon. Thank you.”
He reached out and took it, offering to put it on you. With a soft giggle, you turned around, your hair already done up in the coif. Patiently holding still as he draped the necklace before you and locked it behind. It was the perfect length to hide just under the collar of your uniform, and the chain thin enough to be easy to miss. You toyed with the bird between your fingers. Arms came around you then, holding you, easing away all your stress as Aegon rested against you, his chin on your shoulder. “I heard the talk with your father didn’t go well.”
You sighed, clutching onto him. “It’s hard to say. I can only hope my words sink in. I really wish he hadn’t delayed. I have half a mind to think he did on purpose so I couldn’t talk him out of it.” You shook your head, admitting bitterly, “I hate all those people out there who get to choose.”
“Marriage isn’t about love or happiness. It’s about serving your duty to the Realm and to the Gods.” His arms held you tighter, his hand gently caressing your arm, forming a barrier between you and the harsh world beyond his embrace. “That’s how I heard it anyway.”
It made you think of Helaena. Wondering if she heard the same thing. If that was what they reminded each other when forced to bed. From what you heard, Helaena didn’t protest as Aegon had. Helaena followed the wishes of her elders without a word of disagreement. And here you were spending the entire day thinking of all the “accidents” Barston might have in the future. Aegon should be grateful to be married off to Helaena and not someone like you, who had a mind in seeing enemies in every shadow.
“Do you know any noble lords in need of a deal?” Aegon suddenly went very rigid. He began pulling from you but you insisted. “Do you know of anyone who might make a bid for my dowry?”
When you turned to look at him, there was such a darkness in his gaze. His jaw was set and he spoke firmly. “No. I don’t know anyone like that.”
Trying to ease him, you stepped forward, placing your hands on his waist, but he didn’t hold you back, instead glaring behind you. What difference did it really make? You were to be married to Barston if not a different lord. “Aegon, please. If there is any other option, I don’t have much time. A recommendation from royalty would entice those wanting a good relationship with the crown.”
You didn’t like the way he had gone cold. The way he wouldn’t even look at you now when you'd been surviving off his generous attention all this time. “It can’t be him.” You pleaded, as if he had any power to change what was happening. Some of Aegon’s anger ebbed, falling into shame as he realized that too. Your hands caressed up his sides, pulling him a little closer to you as you whispered, “If I had my way, it would be you. I would choose you.”
He hesitated a moment, the ice shedding away when he reached up and touched the gift he’d gotten you. With a sigh he caved entirely and cupped your neck, trailing his thumb along your jaw. You keened into his touch, the heat infecting your eyes. The words slipped from you in a hush, slipping past all sense. “I want you, Aegon. Please, I want it to be you.”
When it dawned on him what you were asking, his eyes went wide. “Are you saying that-”
“Yes, yes I want you to take me.” You pulled up flush against him, hands craving more of his heat. A striking heat aching low in your core, readying. The tears welled higher, desperation guiding you. “I can’t have my first time be with him. I want it to be you. It has to be you.”
His eyes danced between yours, taking in how serious you were, brushing away a tear that had fallen. Aegon swallowed thickly, nodding. In a fluid instant your breath and all other sound around you stopped. He pressed a kiss, soft as silk to your lips. The gentle heat on your face lifted the heavy weight off your chest, filling it with the sensation of fluttering.
He parted your lips and tasted you with a hum, wrapping around your waist and shoulders, pressing you flush against him. So often now you associated his embrace with safety. All the energy of the day twisted into relief, into a pure wet heat. One of your hands drug up his back and tangled in his hair, tightly to give a small tug in the way you knew he liked. A moan rumbled in his chest and sent a thrill through yours.
Aegon broke the kiss to pepper more across your jaw, bury his face in the crook of your neck were he lavished lazy wet kisses, each giving your spine a tight jolt.
Hands slid down your body. A hot sigh left you as he gripped you tight, grinding your hips against his. A shudder went through you, his hands sprawled on your back until they found the ties of your dress and began to undo them with ease. He took a step back and you followed the lead forward, pleaded against his mouth, “Oh Aegon, I don’t want to leave. I don’t want to leave you.”
“Don’t worry about that now.” He pulled open your top gown, slipping it over your shoulders and it dropped to the ground. You stepped out, melting against him as you took his lips again, savoring the slick feel of running your tongue against his, the jolt of pleasure that jumped up your spine, your skin alight with the soft lick of heat. As he gripped the thin chemise, he murmured, “I’ll make you happy again.”
The last dress was raised over head and dropped to the floor, and Aegon dropped back onto the bed. Before, he’d only ever gotten to see glimpses and parts of you at a time. Your liaisons together were always rushed affairs, always on the cusp of getting caught and needing to return to your duties before anyone caught wise. For the first time he got to see you in your full form. His lips parted in awe, running his hands up your body, and down your chest, his fingertips tickling your stomach before moving out and rounding your hips. With a sigh, he rested his head against your front, pulling you closer enough your knees tapped against his length already beginning to firm, the brush of his breath ghosting down your legs.
You combed your fingers through his hair, closing your eyes as his hands ran back up your sides, peppering wet kisses and licking down your front. His mouth wandered lower and lower, the tight heat making your hips shift to relieve the pressure, making you wait impatiently until you felt that first hot slick lick.
With a whimper, your fingers tightened and you pressed him snug between your thighs. Aegon was quick to relax, burying himself deeper to better latch onto you, his tongue working up a thirsty rhythm you began following, chasing the pleasure that lifted you high out of your own head. Normally you cared very deeply how loud you allowed either of you to be, but the cries and whines that dripped from your lips were unrestrained. Aegon seemed to catch on to your free voice, moaning in an echo of your voice, palming himself with one hand while the other gripped you, kept you tight against his feasting.
It burned you with delight seeing him so aroused, so determined to have you. Lifting a foot onto the mattress, you opened up for him, everything in you hot with tension, craving more and more as if you'd never be satisfied. On the cusp of the overwhelming flood threatening to consume you, Aegon broke away a moment, giving noisy quick breathes and you caught him, cupped his face in both your hands and crashed your mouth to his. Tasting the mix of you and him, savoring his many little noises.
His hands, trembling as they were, ran down your thighs and gripped them, pulling you onto his lap, your legs instinctively clutching his waist. With hunger you rolled your hips on his, your body knowing before you how to get what you wanted, Aegon whimpering between your suffocating kisses as you pushed him back.
His skin, even through his clothes was burning hot, making you start to sweat as you wrapped your body all around him, a tug on your spine urging you to take more. Finding the rim of his loose shirt, the moment your palms felt bare hot flesh they roamed hungrily. Feeling the expanse of his chest, mapping him out and dearly wanting to follow your touch with your lips.
In your exploration, you led the shirt up over his head, leaving his bare chest to press against yours and it felt so right. The way two pieces of a puzzle fit together. You felt his hips move against yours, felt his cock, freed and slick smooth between your soaked thighs, felt it jump eagerly. You were eager to finally know, to get the proper consummation you'd been craving all this time.
You parted just to look at him. Take in his flushed face, his glistening lips, curling white hair framing him as a halo, a beauty in his own right, the only movement you made was parting your legs wider and grounding yourself down. The sharp take of his gasp as you felt the dull head of his tip press at your hot entry, it didn’t ease your desire but enhanced it.
You leaned over him, “Aegon, help me with the next part.”
Surprisingly, a chuckle came from him. “You sure you’re ready for that?”
You nodded. “I’m ready.” You ran your hand down his chest, low down his front. “I’ve thought of taking you in me for awhile now.”
It dazed him, One hand bringing you back to his lips when the other dived between you. You moaned as his fingers ran along your open seam. Your hips followed his fingers as he touched you, finding the small peak and spinning circles until you began to whine and whimper above him. Until your were soaking his fingers. He pressed two fingers inside you with ease. And as he slipped out, he gripped and lined himself properly.
Testingly, a little too eager for your own good, you sank down. Your entire body flinched, stopping as the stretch surprisingly burned. You whimpered a few times having gone rigid, Aegon brushed your body as he soothed you despite his quick breaths and his eyes trained low, “Don’t rush it. Take your time.”
Call it stubbornness, but you didn't want to. Despite the bit of pain, there was something about the whole thing, the stretch, the heat, the thought that it was him slipping inside, it made you determined to take him entirely. You sank down in small rocking, a little in and a little out, going deeper every round. Until he was deep enough your lungs spasmed, panting gasps ripping from you. You sat down that little bit of way, finally feeling his skin under you. You sat there, catching your breath and savoring the way he filled you. Letting the muscles get comfortable.
Aegon rolled his hips and the motion drug against something damn good, sparking a new pleasure you’d never experienced before. You felt it low and up your front, jumping up your spine and swimming in your head. It was such a shock you clutched and gave a small cry.
“Sorry-”
“No, it felt good.” You said, emphasizing your words with a roll of your own hips, mimicking his action. Again it was such a strange pleasure, the heat numbing the pain. You started rocking harder, taking him deep. Dropping a hand onto the mattress, just above his shoulder just to stabilize yourself, you chased the waves of pleasure that came with every hit, chasing them faster and faster.
“That’s it.” He praised, “No so bad, is it?”
You couldn’t think clear enough to talk, merely looked at him through misty lashes. Aegon moaned, running a thumb down your lips and chin. His words were choked, but he got them out in bursts, “I’ve wanted- to see you like this- for so long.” His eyes nearly rolled back, his brow knit as you only rode him faster and harder. “We could have been doing this all year, if you’d just let me.”
There was a clutch deep inside you. It was warped. It was wrong to remember that time and forget that you’d been afraid when he tried to force himself on you. That even if you had given in, even if you had liked it, you would have been stressed endlessly for your reputation. As pleasure pulsed in time with your thrusts, flitting away the memory, numb to reality. That’s why you were here, wasn’t it? Why you’d began seeing him? “Mm, Aegon-”
Aegon sat up on his elbow, the other hand on your hind, feeling your desperate thrusts. As he spoke, his voice, breathing heavy next to your ear, he spoke as a siren, “You like that thought? You want more of this?”
You nodded desperately, rocking your hips harder and faster to show how much you wanted more, chasing the glow building up inside, starting from low in your core and climbing up. Liquid heat burning through your system, making you shudder, a string of cries spilling from your lips.
Suddenly the world spun and your back was pressed into the mattress, Aegon above you as he gave a dragging reach, snapping his hips against you, smacking deep inside, making you arch your back to accommodate him. A great tightening suddenly took over. You placed your hands on his chest as you were mercilessly pounded into, feeling like you were taking him completely, pushing your mind higher in the clouds, your body as bright and hot as sunlight.
Aegon rode you through your climax, continuing to hit that place that had you rolling your eyes back, gasping for air. You felt him lean closer to you and you relaxed your arms, wrapping them around him instead as he laid himself on top of you, kissing you, filling you. His strides became long and savoringly slow, messaging the walls inside. You could have an entire session this way. Dragging it out, spending a long time just feeling him all around you, in you.
With a shudder Aegon pulled himself back, your chest in his face as gripped himself, whimpering against your breast as he reached his own climax, bucking over you and you were almost disappointed he'd not finished in you, as you finished on him.
You let out a long breath, letting him drop down and you soon following, relaxing beneath him, trailing your nails down his back. There was a dull ache between your legs, but you figured that would fade.
Your mind still buzzing with the remnants of ecstasy, and something more as you held him in your arms and he brushed down your side. You began to worry you might fall asleep and mumbled lazily, “I should probably get dressed-”
“Stay.” He said. Aegon lifted enough to look you in the eye. He was uncharacteristically serious. “Just for a little while. Until I fall asleep.”
You nodded and settled up on the pillows. Curling up into his arms as he laid the blankets over the both of you. You hadn’t anticipated how tired you’d be from all the activities.
By the time you cracked open your eyes, the sun was coming through the windows. You jolted up in the bed, only to find you were the only one in it. Since when was Aegon awake before you? You looked around the room, tilting enough to see around the divider and the tub. “Aegon?”
He didn’t appear to be in the room at all. Unsure what to do and in a full blown panic, you found your clothes on the ground and rushed putting them back on. You straightened out the wrinkles, tried your best to tidy up your hair, and before you were thinking of leaving, the door swung open, startling you before you sighed in relief.
“There you are. Where did you go-” Aegon briskly crossed the room, wrapped you up in his arms and kissed you, long and brimming with excitement. The door wide open.
When he parted, he was all smiles. “I had a little talk with your father and Lord Barston. You’re not going anywhere.”
An ice cold dread fell all around you. “What- what did you say? Aegon, what did you do?”
“I told them I’ve taken you as my mistress.” You firmly pulled his hands from you and backed up, stared at him with horrified eyes. He returned them with bewilderment. “What?”
“Do you remember all those little talks of my reputation? That it was important to me?”
Aegon scoffed, taking your chin between his fingers, looming before you. “Be honest, would you really rather go to some marshland, getting mounting but an old ugly lord in a cold ugly old fort, or stay here with me?”
“I-I’m going to be seen as a whore for the rest of my life!” Aegon rolled his eyes, dropping his hand and dropping on his bed. Clearly he’d only gotten up early to ruin any foreseeable future of yours. How could he be so flippant? “Don’t you understand what you’ve done?”
“I’ll make you happy. You have nothing to worry about.” He said, kicking off his shoes and flopping up higher on the bed, closing his eyes. “Breakfast will be here shortly. Afterwards we’ll take a trip into the city. I want to buy you a dress befitting the mistress of a prince.”
But for how long would that last? What should happen to you when he gets bored? And Aegon grows bored so very easily. Frenzied horror was shaking through you. “My father, what did he say?”
“He just nodded and said whatever I wished.”
You nervously scratched at your scalp, brushing it back and breaking in a cold sweat thinking of what your father and lord Barston must think of you. What they might tell everyone. What everyone might tell everyone. You sighed, feeling as if you might throw up at any moment.
Someone walked in but it wasn’t the maids with breakfast. It was Alicent. There was a furiousness to her step and for a moment in the way she looked at you. But the drained fear on your face was evidently painting a clearer picture for her. Your voice distant and dazed, you announced very blandly, “Your mother is here.”
Alicent looked to him. Aegon gave a tired sigh, sitting up in bed to give her his attention. No one said a thing, merely looking between on another. You were feeling cold, couldn’t feel your fingertips anymore even as they cupped your burning face, now your steps clumsy as you moved toward the small table.
“Do one of you care to explain yourselves?” She asked.
Aegon shrugged, “She said she didn’t want to leave.”
Your ears were ringing, the nausea welling up your throat. You grabbed the untouched wine cup from last night. Drinking it down then dropping into a chair. You couldn’t see Alicent look at you, but you could feel it. “Is this true?”
“I…” Well, yes in the most technical way. However you didn’t ask for your entire life to be ruined without even talking to you about it. Everytime you thought how you needed to say something clever, something to get you out of this, no words came to you. “I don’t know what to say.”
Staring into the floor, you could hear the mattress shift, and soon Aegon came into view, dropping to his knees before you. His face was heavenly and innocent as he looked up to you, resting his hands on your waist. “Hey, everything is going to be alright. I promised I’d make you happy and I will. You’ll see.”
What came out was the only sentence playing in your head over and over. “Everyone is going to call me a whore.”
Still with that look of summer sweetness, “If anyone does, I’ll have their tongue cut out.” He thought that would be a helpful thing and not make people hate you and him more. You rested a hand on his shoulder, meaning to explain that but words simply wouldn’t form on your tongue anymore. So you just patted him.
“Aegon, why don’t you get some rest?” Aegon looked up to his mother who moved in closer. She rested a hand on your back, though you wondered what she really wished to do to you. “She and I will have a talk about your arrangement.”
You reached over and grabbed the other untouched cup, drinking that down as well, hoping it would prevent you from fainting. As you went to stand, Aegon’s grip suddenly hardened to stone, locking you down into the seat. His jaw was tense, his glare furious on his mother. “She’s not going anywhere.”
Both you and her took back. You looked up at Alicent as she tried to challenge him, “Aegon, there isn’t-”
He jumped to a stand, looming over you as he seethed, at the Queen. “I’ve made my decision. She stays.”
You looked between them, wondering if this was just some terrible nightmare, hoping and praying to the Gods it was. Alicent looked down at you, as bewildered as you were shocked.
“We will talk about this.” She quietly assured, leaving you in the room alone with him.
A touch came to your cheek and you flinched, coming face to face with Aegon as he lowered himself before you again. “Relax. The marriage is a thing of the past and my mother won’t do anything to you.”
He leaned in and kissed you, but you were far too stunned to kiss back. Still when he pulled back, he smiled, satisfied as he turned back to his bed and dropped on it. Shortly after the maids came with trays, one of them Lydia. You recognized the stunned mortification in her, as you knew it in yourself. They cleaned up and reset the table. Before she turned to leave, she reached out and rested her hand on your wrist. You desperately turned your hand and held hers, silently trying to assure both of you things would be alright.
Hey hope you guys enjoyed the run so far! I was thinking of ending things here, felt like it sort of rounded itself out with the final deed done. Let me know what you think! If you enjoyed it or would like to see more!
#hotd fanfic#hotd x you#aegon ii x you#aegon x you#aegon x reader#aegon targaryen x reader#my writing
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Word Find Tag
Thanks @starlit-hopes-and-dreams for tagging me and for the patience because it took me a while to remember you tagged me lol
So my words were never, murmur, life, change, mistake and I took them all from my main WIP The Heir's Curse, but that's no surprise really lol
Your words: fire, light, book and chance
Tagging without any pressure at all: @starlit-hopes-and-dreams (I am tagging you back :D) @i-can-even-burn-salad @the-broken-pen@jay-avian
Let's bring it on :D
Never (Robyn POV)
Milah, like all other novices, was the daughter of an ordained priestess, conceived during the Rite and with the blessings of our Great Mother. As a true daughter of Celnaer, her destiny was already predetermined. That was not the case for me. I was no born priestess and not a day went by without me being reminded of it. My sisters made sure of it. Fraud. Wannabe shadow witch. Imposter. Their words were still ringing in my ears and my nails dug into my palms. As if it was my fault in the first place. I didn't choose boarding a ship bound to Wraesian with my parents. I didn't summon the storm that broke the vessel to pieces as if it was merely a toy and took away my parents. I didn't ask the sea to pull me under and drown me, nor did I ask for the strong arms that grabbed my body and saved me. It wasn't my choice, but the grace of the Great Mother that saved me that day. It was her grace that led the few survivors to the safe haven that was Celnaer where the High Priestess Eirene found me and accepted me into her temple. I was only five years old and she's treated me like I was her own blood ever since. Very much to the disdain of some of the elder priestesses. But not Milah, never Milah. Whenever the shadows seemed to take over my mind, she was the sun that chased them away.
Murmur (Baz POV)
"Careful," Faolán hissed and pulled a pocket mirror from his pocket. He adjusted the sides made of moon glass so that the incoming moonlight was reflected on the floor and revealed what lay between us and the treasure. I exhaled sharply as my gaze fell on what seemed to be random symbols drawn onto the stone floor. Defence spells. I should have known. Even an arrogant bastard like Drogan wasn't so simple-minded as to leave his trinkets without extra protection. Even if it meant breaking the law.
"I guess good ol' Drogan doesn't think much of rules," I murmured. Faolán gave a snort of laughter.
"Since when do the rich give a damn about the law?"
"True," I replied with a grin as I carefully stepped around the runes. "Then again, neither do we."
Life (Baz POV)
I couldn't deny that I was tempted by the idea. In Anoven my crew would be safe, and so would I. But was I ready to give up the pirate life for good? Of course there had been days when I thought about it, scarce moments where I allowed my mind to wander to the shards of a little boy's dream. To a small house built in the middle of fields. A small garden overgrown with a wild selection of fruit and vegetables and fresh water drawn from my very own well. A place where sea-dried, bloody skin and weeks of meagre bread and pale water would once and for all be a thing of the past. A life of peace.
Change (Robyn POV)
"So you're the first mate," I said to break the awkward silence between Faolán and me. After all, I would be spending four days on this ship, so it seemed only appropriate to get to know parts of the crew a little.
"Your perceptiveness is truly remarkable," Faolán replied without giving me a glance. But I decided not to be intimidated by his taunting comment. He didn't trust me, that much was clear, and frankly I couldn't blame him. If I were part of this crew, I wouldn't trust me either. And I suspected he wouldn't change his mind about me so quickly, no matter how hard I tried to fit in.
Mistake (Robyn POV)
"Come on Naera, you're a girl, she's a girl." Faolán pointed between the two of us. "Who better than you to share the hammock with her?"
If looks could kill, I was pretty sure Faolán should be dead on the floor at that moment. The first mate seemed to notice his fatal mistake as well, because the next moment he raised his hands in a pacifying manner. "Not my order, it comes from the captain."
I frowned. That wasn't entirely true, but I knew better than to contradict Faolán in Naera's presence.
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Reader is a werewolf and transfers to Hogwarts. She is totally not forced to meet Remus, and the others by extension, by Dumbledore. It’s very awkward in the beginning but when the full moon comes around, that’s when they all realize why Dumbledore forced them to meet. Weird matchmaking happens with Remus and the Reader. After that let your mind run loose. 🍄
fun fun fun! i love this request and i'll always do one for my boy remus. also very sorry if this imagine is a bit dry, i’m still coming out of writers block!
Remus Lupin x fem!reader
summary: as it says in the request!
word count: 3,533
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"I hope this school is up to your standards, Miss L/N." Albus Dumbledore said as he walked through the halls of Hogwarts School Of Witchcraft And Wizardry, a girl walked beside him and her face was one of heavy disdain whilst the students milling around in the corridors eyed their headmaster warily and by extension, the girl beside him.
She gave a small hum in response, not even bothering to force out any words to reply with. This man had been talking her ear off all morning about her furry little problem and quite frankly, it had gotten extremely annoying very quickly; Their conversations consisted of how the school was properly fitted to her needs and they had an excellent Matron who had been notified of her condition.
It was all rather tedious. She hadn't even wanted to move to Hogwarts in the first place but her mother had been adamant about the fact that this would be good for her. By good she knew her mother was talking about how the school had another person like her which Y/N actually found quite offensive.
Obviously she knew that her mother couldn't handle the stress of tying her daughter up in chains every full moon to keep her from tearing the house apart, but sending her away to a boarding school was something Y/N had not been expecting.
At first she had been sad and slightly put out, but now on the day of the full moon she just felt angry. She could pin anyone in this hallway staring at her against the wall and throttle them if she would get away with it, her emotions were heavily out of control.
To top it all off, she didn't even know where this man was taking her. He was extremely vague and it frustrated her, maybe he would be the one she throttled.
"Here we are." He said, stopping in front of two large double doors and Y/N looked up at them and let her eyes travel to the sign next to the doors that said 'Library' on a golden plaque. "There's someone I want you to meet."
It was definitely the other werewolf. Y/N rolled her eyes and followed him into the room, noticing how much quieter people got as soon as he walked in. People with green ties were sat at one of the tables and scowled at her as she passed, people with blue ties watched her carefully and people with yellow ties did the same.
Y/N just stared back at them all with the same straight face she had been sporting all day. People really needed to mind their own business.
The only people with red ties that she could see were four boys tucked into a corner of the library and laughing with one another. A boy with scars all over his face and messy hair caught her attention first, he was the werewolf. The scars were a big give away but her enhanced senses also made it clear to her.
She had a couple of scars herself, mainly on her chest but she had one on her face; A long stripe which went from the top left of her forehead and diagonally down her face to the bottom of her right cheek. This boy had the same, it peaked her curiosity but she said nothing about it.
Next to this boy, was another boy with clear-skin, messy brown hair and round glasses that were falling off his face so often he needed to push them up.
Across from him sat a third boy with shoulder-length brown hair, she couldn't see his face but she could see the rings on his fingers and immediately had an impression of what kind of guy he was. The final boy was plumper than the others and his blonde hair stood in stark contrast to his companions, his overall innocent aura made her like him best already.
As Y/N and Dumbledore approached their table, Y/N watched as the boy with scars slowly trailed off in his laughter and glanced up towards them before they even got too close. He must've noticed their matching scars too as he sat up slightly straighter and squinted inquisitively at them.
"Gentlemen." Dumbledore greeted, stopping by their table and all four looked up at them. Y/N caught the eyes of the scarred one and he looked like he didn't know whether to smile or run at the sight of her. "Are you enjoying your weekend?"
"Now I am." The long-haired one smiled at Y/N and she turned her attention to him, raising an eyebrow. His lips tilted into a smirk and Y/N didn't react. "Hey, I'm Sirius."
"Okay, well, I'm not going to take you serious with that haircut." She deadpanned, looking away from him straight after his sentence and instead opting to look at the boy with glasses who had just snorted. "Don't know what you find so funny. I'm guessing every time you push your glasses up, your hairline recedes by an inch."
He was stunned into silence, Sirius too as he reached up to touch his hair slightly. Y/N then turned to the blonde boy who just gulped and she looked away, satisfied.
"Pleasure." The messy haired boy smiled tightly.
"Delightful to see you talking, Y/N." Dumbledore smiled serenely at her and she subtly rolled the eyes, catching the other werewolf smile slightly at her display of carelessness. “This is James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew and Remus Lupin.”
Y/N snorted, his parents must’ve been seers to name him that. She was glad that she had a slightly normal name compared to Remus which just practically screamed werewolf matched with those scars on his face.
Her own matching scar down her face hadn’t actually come from herself but instead from her mother who had defended herself when she tried to attack, swiping a glass shard in front of her in a moment of panic. It had been an accident, Y/N knows that, but if her own mother could hurt her like that then what would strangers do.
The girl had learned to steel herself against all ridicule a long time ago once she had gotten her scar and realised there was so much danger out there so she was practically stuck with her emotionless expression every minute of every day. It scared people and they stayed away from her as though the scar didn’t do that by itself.
“Nice to meet you.” Remus said with a small smile and Y/N looked over at him for a moment and surveyed him more closely then she had the others.
His hair sat scruffy on top of his head and he had brown glossy eyes that showed a spark of nervousness at her blank stare, his nose and his lips were both perfectly proportioned and his tongue poked out to lick at the skin on his lips out of anxiety. The scars on his face looked like they had been crafted carefully with needle and thread unlike her own which looked like she had been attacked relentless with a knife.
“Well,” Dumbledore said after a moment of silence between the group with Y/N surveying Remus carefully and the other boys looking in between them awkwardly. “I’ll leave you to settle in, Miss L/N.”
Sirius snapped his head up and furrowed his eyebrows at Dumbledore as he started walking away from the table and Y/N was left in the boy’s awkward company. She pulled out the chair in front of her and sat down, dropping her bag under the table carelessly and slouching in her seat as they all awkwardly stared at one another.
James was the first to clear his throat and redirect his attention back to the paper beneath him, Y/N eyed Sirius’ paper from across the table and raised her eyebrows slightly at the wrong answer before looking away again and meeting eyes with Remus who was staring at her too.
Her lips curled into a small sneer and he flushed red and looked away quickly as she frowned and sunk further into her seat, hoping it could make her disappear from whatever mess Dumbledore had left her in.
It was a rough hour and a half sat there in silence whilst the four Gryffindors talked amongst themselves and threw her a wary look every time her eyes zeroed in on the darkening sky outside and the emotion in them grew darker with every shade the light blue swapped to. It was scary for them to say the least, especially when Peter coughed and her eyes snapped to him immediately; all four of them froze and stared at her whilst she scrutinised Peter quietly.
Remus was just as paranoid as her about the darkening sky, she could smell the stench and it nearly got to the point where she had to lift her jumper over her nose and mouth to help herself block it out. The negative emotions weren’t a good smell, especially on a hormonal werewolf, most of them smelt like buckets of sweat and Y/N wasn’t quite fond of it.
Just as Y/N went to reach for her jumper, nose scrunching up the slightest bit, a woman behind her said her name and she turned slowly to see a woman wearing an odd hospital apron thing there. All Y/N did was raise her eyebrows at her inquisitively.
“Come with me, please.” She said and Y/N dragged herself out of her chair, getting her bag from under the table. There were no questions to be asked, Dumbledore had explained that the school matron would come and get her and take her to where this ‘safe place’ was.
The woman took her silently to this place, across the grass fields and over the hills surrounding the castle; Y/N didn’t know when they were going to stop until the woman abruptly turned and she was suddenly facing a large tree with violently swinging branches. The sky was darker than it had been before but the moon hadn’t made an appearance yet and for that, Y/N was thankful.
Just because she had a careless persona didn’t mean she didn’t wish she never had this godforsaken curse thrust upon her.
“Immobulus!” The woman cast with a flick of her wand and the harshness of the branches swings slowed immediately, moving in a syncopated rhythm back and forth. She then walked forward to the tree and stepped on a knot at the bottom of the trunk which opened to reveal a small tunnel.
The young girl’s eyebrows raised slightly, this was not what she was expecting when Dumbledore had said ‘safe place’. A click of the woman’s fingers caught her attention and Y/N rolled her eyes like she always did before slipping down the tunnel as the woman was instructing her to.
It was a short journey but she reached the bottom in no time, landing onto the hard floor with small noise of surprise before she stood and heard the woman sliding down too. Y/N walked on slightly whilst the woman stood far more gracefully than she had. Then the woman had instructed Y/N to follow her again and lead her though a different tunnel and up some rickety, wooden stairs until it became clear she was in some sort of shack.
“This is where you will go every full moon.” The woman spoke as Y/N followed her down one of the grimy corridors and into a room that had scratch marks all over the walls, she quickly assumed this is where Remus went too. “You won’t be alone, don’t you worry but I will take care of you every morning. My name is Madam Pomfrey.”
She held her hand out for her to shake but Y/N just gave her a nod of acknowledgement and walked further into the room to examine it. “The moon will be up soon.”
“I know.” Pomfrey said, eyes burning into the back of Y/N’s head and as the girl turned to stare back at her, she noticed the familiar look in the woman’s eyes and looked away before she spoke and killed another person. “I have to go and get Mr. Lupin, stay stafe Y/N.”
She said nothing and just listened to the footsteps retreating out of the door.
It was another long 20 minutes before she heard footsteps again and two people conversing, one a boy and one Madam Pomfrey. Y/N had retreated to a side of the room where she sat against the wall twirling her wand in her hand boredly whilst her eyes scanned the crumbling architecture.
“It’s you.” Is what persuaded Y/N to open her eyes, Remus was stood in front of her now, shrugging his bag off and putting it in a corner. Madam Pomfrey left them with a soft promise to see them in the morning. “I mean, I guessed that you were like me but I didn’t know...you know, for sure.”
Y/N picked up a new scent at the end of his sentence and then picked up 3 more before narrowing her eyes at Remus who smiled guiltily before 3 more pairs of footsteps wandered into the room. The three of them stopped at the sight of Y/N sat facing the door and the looks on their faces was priceless.
“You-” Sirius pointed at her and narrowed his eyes.
“Me.” She shrugged.
“You’re a werewolf too.” James observed and Y/N nodded slowly, pursing her lips. Of course these fools knew about Remus and had followed him probably on multiple occasions.
“Can we handle both of them?” Peter asked quietly and Y/N groaned quietly as the dull ache started to set in her muscles and her bones. Remus did the same, turning his neck from side to side and the three other boys looked in between the two whilst they both winced and rubbed at their shoulders.
“Course we can.” Sirius said but he didn’t sound so sure.
Y/N looked up and the boy flinched back at her yellow eyes staring back at him whilst the moonlight filtered in through the bordered up window. She glanced over to Remus who groaned as he sat down on the floor too.
The pain commenced quicker than normal that night and then Y/N L/N and Remus Lupin were gone for the night.
•*•*•*•*•
She had been the first to awake to the early morning sunlight shining into the room, naked and bloody. Surprisingly it was only her cheek that had a gash instead of another major place on her body, the slightest movement sent a spark of pain through her but she fought it through over to her bag to get out the big t-shirt she had packed and also get out the large plasters she had also managed to put in.
It was a hard process, especially since she didn’t have a mirror but she attempted as best she could with a couple of winces when she touched the wrong spot; The morning after was always pathetic.
“Let me do that for you.” A groggy voice said from across the room and she spared the hurt boy a glance, he was bare too but had his hands covering his private places. He attempted to shuffle over to his bag to presumably grab something like she had but Y/N shook her head and stood as best she could before walking over to him.
“We’re gonna have to get used to seeing each other naked anyway.” She mumbled whilst she slowly said, Remus’ hand darting out to help her down when she nearly fell. “Might as well get over it.”
“Well you have a shirt on.” Remus said, looking down at the material but he didn’t dare look any lower than that. “I don’t find it fair if I’m naked and your mostly covered.”
Y/N took the shirt off in one move, her limbs screaming at her to stop being so rash in her movements. Remus made a noise and looked away once she had ripped the shirt off of herself and she rolled her eyes before reaching out for the medical supplies.
She fiddled with the wipes but a large hand took it off of her before she could do anything and then she found herself looking into Remus’ eyes whilst his cheeks flamed red and he unwrapped the wipe from it’s packet and shuffled closer towards her.
It was silent whilst his hand came at her with the wipe and then not so silent at Y/N’s loud hiss at the stinging applied to the cut on her cheek. Her head jerked away from him but his other hand landed on her other cheek to make her come back, tears pricked her eyes at the pain but she could still see the apologetic meaning behind his own whilst he cared for her.
“You’re hurting me.” She gritted out, a tear escaping and adding to the pain of her cut and she opened her mouth to gasp slightly.
“I know, I know.” He shushed her softly as he cleaned it and then took the wipe away, putting it down and Y/N eyed the blood that covered it whilst Remus grabbed the plaster and took it out of its package before going back up to her face. “All done.”
She let out a small, slightly relieved breath and brought her fingers up to slightly touch at the plaster and Remus moved her hand away slowly but winced and looked at his arm which had a cut on the upper part of it.
“My turn.” Y/N said as she grabbed another wipe to unwrap and Remus surveyed her nervously. Her hands gently came up to his arm, cold fingers making him flinch slightly but after her glare he calmed down.
It was silent whilst she wiped it, it hurt of course it did but Remus just took a deep breath in and held it there, knowing it probably wasn’t as painful as her cheek wound. He looked at her concentrated face as she wiped his arm and eyed the scar she had identical to his own.
“How did you get the scar?” He asked, he didn’t really have to expand on his question since there was only one scar he was mainly curious about. “I mean, you don’t have to tell me if you don’t want, it could just be a normal werewolf scar but I was just...curious.”
“Glass shard to the face.” She answered dryly, throwing the bloody wipe next to the one he had used on her before grabbing another plaster and unwrapping it again. “From my mother.”
“Your mother?” His eyes widened.
“Broke free of my chains and she didn’t know what to do.” She explained further whilst flattening the large plaster on his skin before putting her hands in her lap and looking towards the wall and instead of at him. “Fight or flight response, you know?”
“Chains?” Remus repeated again and Y/N’s glare made him apologise softly. “Sorry.”
Her glare softened slightly and she looked away again in order not to show the softening in emotion. “It’s okay. Not all of us have the same experience, some of us are in packs, some of us are in Azkaban, some of us are murderers and some of us are in poverty. Some of us are just kids like you and me, cursed with this thing that no one else will every understand.”
“At least we both have someone who does now.” Remus said with a small smile and Y/N nodded slowly but still didn’t smile. “Which means if I’m going to Azkaban then you’re coming with me.”
That one got the tiniest quirk of her lips out of her and she carried on nodding before she looked up to meet his eyes and they shared a look for a moment, sitting in silence with nothing to say. Naked and vulnerable, yet safe and secure at the same time. Someone would understand and that’s the most either of them could ask.
Y/N grabbed the shirt from behind her and stood abruptly, Remus making another noise and looking away again as she retreated over to her bag and threw a heavily amused look over her shoulder at him; Cheeks red and eyes wide whilst he made a point to stare at the floor again and cover his genitals.
“Take a good look if you need, lord knows this is the first time you’ll ever see a woman’s naked body.” She teased, sitting back down as well as she could across the room.
“Ha, Ha.” He said sarcastically, looking at her face and only her face, resisting the temptation to look any lower. That wasn’t a worry for long since she tugged on the shirt again and Remus reached for his shorts in his bag.
Once he had pulled them on, he sat back against the wall and the two of them spent the next ten minutes in peaceful morning silence speaking to each other softly until Madam Pomfrey had come in and helped them back up to the castle, astounded that this girl was talking to someone and actually smiling sometimes.
It seemed as though the teachers had another bet to make.
#remus lupin imagine#remus lupin x reader#harry potter imagine#the marauders#remus lupin#the marauders x reader#the marauders imagine#werewolf#harry potter#fluff#marauders fluff
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Part 2 of request Shinchiro x popular reader (sorry i did it on hurry) :
Reader is super serious and cold to everyone but him
MASTERLIST
Sano Shinichiro x f!Reader
Word Count: 2.7k
Genre: Crack, Fluff, Friends to Lovers
Warning: The usual spoiler warnings, implied sexual threats, cursed words
Synopsis: Your journey into becoming Shinichiro’s girlfriend.
a/n: hey hey anon~ thanks for the request, this turned out longer than expected ngl but i hope you liked it!! <33 (also, thank you lovelies for 600 followers, i wasnt able to check the other milestones cause everything happened so fast - like 1 1/2 months? but thank you <33)
Letting out a sigh, you straightened your back, face stoic as you made your way to his classroom, barely acknowledging the students who greeted you as you walked past them.
Peaking through the open door, you spot Shinichiro with his friends, the four of them seeming to have just finished lunch which makes you look down at the small bag of cookies in disdain, silently scolding yourself for not going earlier so that he’ll be able to eat the cookies as a treat during lunch.
A sigh leaves your lips, shoulders slumping just a little but before you can fall into a deeper sense of dejection, someone cuts through your thoughts.
“L/N-san? Are you okay? Do you need anything?” Aiko, from what you can remember, asks you, voice small and timid as she offers you a small smile which makes your eyes widen a little as you look them straight in the eye in surprise at being caught lingering around. They flinch a little, not expecting for you to actually look at them.
You notice how more people are now looking in your direction after she mentioned your name. Composing yourself, you clear your throat. “I’m here for Sano Shinichiro.”
As soon as his name escapes your lips, the room explodes in a fit of murmurs, all of them looking at you or Shinichiro who just started to notice you by the door.
Once both of your eyes meet, he offers you a smile, immediately standing up from his chair and waving his friends off when they start pushing him around. You can hear some of the words that they’re saying.
“Tsk, Sano’s about to get in trouble huh? No way L/N-san’s gonna be giving him the light of day unless he did something to trouble the School Council.”
“I think a teacher sent her ‘cause Sano hasn’t been handing in his homework. Too busy with his gang.”
You can hear how his classmates all snickered under their breath, the snickering group all giving Shinichiro a dirty look which started pissing you off.
Shinichiro makes his way to you, hand going straight to your hair to ruffle it up much like he always does when the two of you meet up.
A smile is about to make its way to your face but his classmates’ comments made you frown.
“I don’t even know why he thinks that he can just go and be close with L/N-san when all he’s good for is getting beaten up.”
They all burst out laughing once more, guffawing at the irritated looks that Shinichiro’s friends are giving them. Even from the door, you can see the way the assholes are trying to hide their shaking hands when they heard Wakasa whisper a threat directed at them, but you’re not satisfied with the little threat since you know that the Black Dragon, you met them once when Shinichiro was walking you home after you tutored him for an exam, won’t be doing anything to actually harm any civilians.
You know this because Shinichiro told you before that they’re only after rival gangs. And because the faculty already issued a warning to the four Black Dragon members about any gang related activities near the school campus or any non-members in the school.
So, with full confidence and irritation, you walk over to the group of snickering buffoons and peered down on them, glaring at all of them one by one before speaking. “I don’t even know why any of you think that you’re better than Shinichiro or any of his friends just because you’re not part of a gang or something like that. Or that you ‘do your school work better’ than him. You don’t have the right to talk shit about any of them, especially to Shinichiro. Not when your personality is worse than all the trash in the world combined.”
You don’t notice Shinichiro’s gaped look as he stares at you with awe in his eyes, you also don’t notice the look that the 3 Black Dragon members are giving each other while watching you intimidate their classmates. The only thing you do notice is that the boys that you’re glaring at are giving each other smirks while eyeing you up and down.
“Now now, L/N-san, you shouldn’t be getting too cocky, the Black Dragon won’t be coming to your rescue once we actually do something about that big mouth of yours.” His friends snicker at his words while the rest of his classmates all looked on with horror.
With one swift motion, your hand wraps around his throat, pushing him off of his chair until he’s forced to lean back and hold onto your wrist so that he won’t fall onto the floor. Gasps can be heard as you lean down on his reddening face, still holding him up with only one hand.
“Shall I report you to the faculty for threats of sexual assault? Or should I go to the police station now and file the report there? Do you want to see just what will happen if I do something about you and your friends? I can and will ruin your life if you give me the reason to. I’m not part of the student council for nothing. I’m there because I’m not afraid of handing out punishment to those deserving of it.”
Rolling your eyes at the way he’s gone completely white from your threat, you tighten your grip on his neck and pull him up.
Finally letting him go, you turn around and start walking back to Shinichiro who’s waiting for you by the door, mouth wide with his eyes open like saucers.
Ignoring the lingering looks of his classmates, you subtly hold his pinky, pulling him towards the rooftop.
“Thank you for protecting me back there. You were also very cool.” Shinichiro shyly compliments you, eyes darting to the side, trying his best to hide the growing blush on his face, afraid that you’ll think of him weirdly.
Shaking your head, you let go of his pinky in order to open the door to the rooftop.
Letting him in, you close the door behind you and give him a smile, the tension in your body disappearing now that you’re alone with him.
The sight of him makes your heart beat just a little faster than normal, cheeks heating up when you remember why you dragged him here on the rooftop.
“It was nothing, Shinichiro. I just couldn’t let them say bad things about you or Black Dragon when I know how much they mean to you.”
Looking him straight in the eyes, you continue.
“That's why I like you so much.”
1
2
3
It took 3 seconds for the words to sink in and for Shinichiro’s neck to almost break as he gives himself whiplash, head moving from left to right, trying to see if someone’s behind him and that you’re just confessing - are you confessing? Is this a confession? - to someone behind him.
Or maybe you’re playing a joke on him?
But you just stood up for him earlier. You wouldn’t do something as cruel as play with his feelings even though you are cruel enough to hand out punishments to the students who break the school rules without any hesitation.
And so far, Shinichiro hasn’t done anything to warrant a punishment from you, right?
So this must surely be true and that the president of the student council, head of the disciplinary committee, first honour of the batch ever since the two of you started school, is actually confessing her love for him, right?
This is not a dream, right?
RIGHT?
RIGHT?
THIS IS NOT A DREAM, RIGHT?
Just as Shinichiro’s about to lose his mind, you decide to step in, a little concerned with the wide-eyed look that your crush is sporting, along with the shaking hands.
So, with the gentleness that you’ve practiced for years, you take a step closer to him and raise your hand, taking his shaking ones in yours and holding onto it tightly. Thankfully, the shaking stops.
Offering a small smile, you start to speak. “You don’t have to accept it Shinichiro, I know that you’re not that interested in me considering you’ve almost asked out all of the girls in our batch except for me, but I just wanted to confess now before I regret it.”
A light chuckle leaves your lips even though your chest feels so painful from the sting that’s going through your body right now, but alas, you keep your facade up, not wanting to guilt trip him into accepting your feelings.
When he still hasn’t said anything, you decide that it’s finally time to let go.
So, with another gentle but fake smile, you slowly let go of his hand, fingertips grazing against his knuckles as you pull away.
But just as you’re about to fully let go, Shinichiro lets out a grunt and quickly takes your hands in his, hands tightly gripping onto yours as he stares at you with wide eyes. It takes him a few seconds to gather his thoughts, heart starting to beat wildly when he sees the way your eyes look all watery.
God, he’s an idiot.
For years, he’s like you.
And now, he almost let you get away when you’ve just flat out confessed that you liked him too.
God.
When he gets home, he’ll make sure to ask Mikey to kick him.
“No no, please don’t go. No no, sorry, I just, I didn’t know what to say. I was too overwhelmed. I thought you were joking or it was a dream. But I like you. I love you too. I mean, no. I like you. I’ve liked you for years! I’ve liked you ever since you helped Mikey and Emma when they were looking for me in school and you were holding their hand and they looked like angels beside you even though they’re total brats. And they were telling me stories about how you bought them snacks in the cafeteria. Then the next day, you talked to me and helped me with school. Then, you. Oh God, this is embarrassing. But you told me that you’ll start helping me with exams and then you asked me to go to your house so that you can tutor me and that was the first time that I went to a girl’s house and I saw your dad’s motorcycle and we talked during dinner and it felt like we were dating. I know it’s weird but I really like you and I’m sorry that I didn’t get to confess first but thank you for confessing-”
Now, you’re the one being overwhelmed by his confession, not sure on what you’re supposed to be focusing on.
He loves you?
Liked you for years?
Mikey and Emma?
First time in a girl’s house?
Your dad’s motorcycle?
What even…what?
Calming yourself down, you look at Shinichiro, trying your best to not laugh at the way his face looks redder than a tomato and how his chest is heaving like crazy. It looks like he just fought in another gang fight.
Taking a deep breath, you give his hand a little squeeze, feeling how he’s starting to sweat. “Shinichiro, calm down…” You watch as he listens to you, taking in deep breaths and only staring at you. You can see the way he’s starting to relax, face going back to its usual colour. “Alright, you don’t have to tell me everything today okay? We have the rest of our days for that now that we’re dating, yeah?”
At that, his cheeks bloom into a palette of pinks and reds, lips parting as he aggressively nods at your words. “Does that mean you’re my girlfriend now?” He whispers, voice a little raspy.
You almost coo at how cute he looks now, with his styled up hair being blown by the wind, face red and lips all pouty. Makes you want to kiss him.
But you’ll save that for later.
“Yes, and I’m assuming that you’ll be my boyfriend?”
A choked sob escapes his lips as he pulls you against him, arms wrapping around your form as he presses a light kiss to the side of your head, his chest pressed against yours and you can almost feel the erratic beating of his heart. Or maybe that’s your heart beating wildly in your own chest. Either way, both of you are too caught up in finally being together for you to notice the door opening behind you.
Though the distinct voice of his friends does break the two of you up.
“Oh god, don’t tell me the two of you are dating?!” Takeomi shouts from the doorway, mouth open in shock as he watches the two of you pull away from each other, Wakasa and Keizo right behind him, also with shocked looks.
“Are you sure?!” Wakasa barrels through, pushing Takeomi aside so that he can stand in front of you, his blond hair swaying in the wind as he gives you a serious look. “Are you sure about this L/N? There’s no going back once you start dating him.”
Shinichiro’s eye twitches, blood boiling at the absolute DISRESPECT coming from his friends and Black Dragon members.
He’s literally their leader, do they not have an ounce of respect for him?!
Keizo steps in, pushing Wakasa away from you. The giant gives you a concerned look, hesitantly placing a hand on your shoulder and slightly nudging you away from Shinichiro. “Are you sure? Are you sure about this L/N? It’s never too late to back out. We’ll help you get away from him if you need it.”
Shinchiro feels like he’s about to start a gang war with his own members, he feels like he needs to start bringing his wrench and just start hitting people on the head everytime they question your budding relationship with him.
EVEN HIS FRIENDS CAN’T BE HAPPY FOR HIM.
Flicking Keizo’s hand away from you, he shoos his friends away, eyes squinting, trying to see where his real friends are ‘cause these men ain’t it.
“Can’t you be normal and congratulate me for finally being in a relationship with the person I’ve liked for years?” He says, voice stern as he stares his friends down.
There’s silence for a bit, with you silently standing beside Shinichiro, subtly holding his hand. You can see the way his face tints pink at your action. The sight only makes your chest feel warmer.
Damn, it hasn’t even been 10 minutes but the butterflies sure are having a fiesta.
“Are you sure about this L/N?”
Shinichiro’s just about to jump Takeomi, fists ready to pummel his friend to the ground as best as he can when the bell sounds, indicating that lunch is ending.
Tugging on Shinchiro’s hand, you give all of them a heartwarming smile, one that you rarely give anyone. “Well, I need to get going, I still have things to do but…” Facing Shinichiro, you tilt your head to the side, shyness blossoming in your chest at your next words. “If you want, we can go to your house later so that I can visit your siblings again? We can have a date too if you want.”
He can barely nod his head, heart erratically beating from excitement at the promised date along with smugness, seeing his friends all gape at you in disbelief at proposing a date AND meeting his family on the first day of dating.
Waving at them, you start walking away, steps light from the new found connection you have with the boy you like.
“ARE YOU SURE YOU WANT TO DATE MY BROTHER?!”
“Y/N-chan, I know you’re a smart girl, why not think about it first-”
“YOU NEED TO SAVE YOURSELF Y/N-NEE! SHINICHIRO IS NOT WORTH I-”
“DOES NO ONE BELIEVE IN ME?! ARE YOU NOT MY FAMILY?!”
From the very first encounter that you’ve had with the Sano family as Shinichiro’s girlfriend, you can say that you’ll be loving every second of being a part of this family. <3
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#sano shinichiro#tokoy revengers#shinichiro#tokyorev#tokrev#sano shinichiro x reader#shinichiro x reader#tokyo revengers x reader#tokyorev x reader#tokrev x reader#sano shinichiro fluff#sano shinichiro crack#sano shinichiro imagines#shinichiro fluff#shinichiro crack#shinichiro imagines#tokoy revengers fluff#tokyo revengers imagines
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SEQUEL TO “don’t forget it”
SYNOPSIS: One week after accidentally blowing you off on your date, Bakugou Katsuki seeks your forgiveness.
pairing: bakugou katsuki x fem!reader
genre: fluff, very little angst
word count: 5.4k+
warnings: none really accept maybe a character sustaining an injury
author’s note: hellooooo this is a very very very late part 2 of my don’t forget it drabble that many people asked for! i hope this lived up to your expectations and was worth the wait!
Since the events that led you to leave Bakugou’s room in a fit of bitterness after attempting to penetrate that thick head of his, he hadn’t been able to speak to you for a week.
It goes without saying he did his best to chase you down the hallway from his room and toward the elevator the moment he realized his faults. But at the stink eye you shot him through the minimizing slit of the elevator doors sliding into place, he knew he had no right to reconcile with you after pulling a stunt like that. Nor did he think you’d want to spare him any more words to begin with. It was clear you were done arguing with him.
“C’mon man, it’s probably best to let her cool down before you try to make up with her,” was the advice Kirishima offered when Bakugou returned to his room, disgruntled as he heavily fell back into his seat next to the desk. He did the bare minimum to acknowledge his friend’s words with a grunt before resuming tutoring the redhead, his method of teaching suddenly harsher than how it began thanks to his soured mood. He lapsed the day away by pounding Kirishima with problems upon problems against that hard noggin of his, both literally and figuratively.
At the very least, Kirishima earned himself a passing grade on their exam as a result of his hard work and their rigorous tutoring sessions. But what followed Bakugou’s and your relationship was still undetermined.
Days later and you were relentless in giving him the cold shoulder.
Bakugou was met with nothing but empty glances and blatant disinterest whenever he crossed your path. It felt like the wall you slotted between him grew another layer at each encounter, your defenses so impenetrable, it could give Kirishima’s quirk a run for its money. He couldn’t so much as utter a word in your direction without you effectively dodging every possible interaction in favor of joining another conversation nearby.
At first, Bakugou shrugged it off, calling your “childish attitude” unwarranted for something he thought was incredibly trivial. In his eyes, it was just an ordinary date at some run-of-the-mill restaurant he just happened to suggest to you because he took a liking to their spicy food. Not like it was some fancy dinner reservation serving caviar on dry toast beside a pretty, city night skyline. To him, it was nothing special.
However, as the week continued to roll by, it became clear to him how much he hurt you due to his selfishness. In a hangout with the Bakusquad, he learned that you apparently told Mina, along with the rest of the girls, everything during one of your girls’ nights. Which included the events prior to your heated argument in Bakugou’s dorm. And Mina, being just as peeved as you were at how Bakugou stood you up that day, had to let the blond know of the damage he’d done.
.
.
“I swear, Bakugou Katsuki, I know you can be an asshole sometimes—”
“Make that all the time,” Sero quietly adds in the middle of Mina’s rant while he lounges backward on Kaminari’s bed. If it wasn’t for his current dilemma, Bakugou would have elbowed him in the back of the head.
“—but this is crossing the line!” she finishes. Her arms are thrown exaggeratedly over her chest. The amber surrounded by the black scleras of her eyes points a beady look at the ash-blond crisscrossed on the floor between Kirishima and Kaminari.
“Poor girl sat there for hours waiting for you, only to find out she got blown off because you couldn’t even properly check your reminders!” She paces back and forth in the room, feet excessively stepping across the floor as she’s engulfed by the emotions she feels for her friend. “What’s worse? She comes back and finds out you’ve been doing your own thing with Kirishima the whole time!”
“Hey! It’s not like we were playing around! We were actually having a very serious study grind, thank you very much,” the redhead immediately clarifies. Though his explanation doesn’t alleviate Bakugou’s case in the slightest, who pounds his palms against the surface of the table they’ve gathered around.
“Look. I fucking get it, Ashido. I screwed up, okay?! Now what the fuck do you want me to do about it?!” he exclaims, anger overpowering his voice, but it does little to deter Mina.
“Fix it, obviously!” she quips back with equal fierceness, leaning in eye level with Bakugou.
“And how do you propose I do that, Raccoon Eyes? Hah?” Repositioning his elbow to rest on the table, he leans his cheek against his hand. “Y/n won’t even let me within five fucking feet in front of her and you still expect me ‘fix this’?”
Despite the situation weighing heavily on his shoulders, no immediate answer is bestowed upon him. That is, except the obnoxiously loud crinkle of a chip bag popping open next to Bakugou that cleaves into the scene like a record scratch. As if unable to read the mood in his own room, Kaminari fishes a chip to throw in his mouth, stirring the awkward silence into tension.
“Wow, Bakugou. I know you’re bad with girls and all, but you really messed up this time,” he remarks. His voice is slightly muffled as he munches his chips, continuing to wrinkle the bag for more. It incites a vein to swell on Bakugou’s forehead. He amasses all the willpower within him not to blast the bag of chips to ash, and the boy alongside it.
“If you dunce faces are just gonna sit here and throw salt in my wound then I’m outta here.”
“No, wait!” Kirishima catches Bakugou’s wrist before he fully lifts himself off the floor. “Come on, Bakugou, I’m sure we can think of something! We just need to put our heads together! Right, guys?” he assures. Finding it hard to deny his friend’s hardened conviction, Bakugou gives Kirishima the benefit of the doubt, albeit with slumped shoulders and a tentative raise of his brow as he slowly sits back down.
“Right! Everyone, let’s get some brainstorming done!” Mina yells encouragingly.
The atmosphere of Kaminari’s room is consumed by moderately thoughtful silence for the next ensuing minutes. A few hums pass, followed by an exchange of contemplative looks as four of the five rack their heads together to uncover a solution. The one in need of help only hunches in his seat, waiting with mild disinterest.
“Oh hey, don’t we have hero training with All Might tomorrow?” Sero is the first to comment, scooting to the edge of the blond’s bed.
“Yeah. So?”
“He said we were going to work on group exercises this time around. You know, teamwork and stuff,” he explains further.
At that, Mina snaps her fingers, the work of a brilliant idea flickering in her head. “Sero, that’s it! Tomorrow, during training, we’ll just form a group together with Y/n! After all, she’ll have to talk to Bakugou if you two are on the same team!” She claps her hands in front of her, her enthusiasm rippling through her body and shown energetically with each raise of her voice. “Then, while the rest of us ‘split up’ to cover more ground, that will be your chance to make everything better with Y/n! It’s genius!”
“You missed one fucking crucial detail, Pinky,” Bakugou gruffs. “That will only work if Y/n doesn’t join another group. The moment she sees I’m on yours, she’s not even going to hesitate making a u-turn.”
“Worry not~ I’ll just text all the girls except Y/n about the plan later and ask them to help sort everyone out!” She solves the problem with relative ease—quick as a click of her phone lighting up and finger sliding open to her messages.
“Uh, another thing though.” Kirishima raises his hand to spare his concern. “All Might says we’ll be splitting into groups of five at most, but there’s already five of us here.”
There’s a brief moment of deadpanning until Mina speaks casually. “Oh, that’s right. Kaminari. Take one for the team and make sure to join another group, ‘kay?” She settles without batting a lash.
Kaminari almost chokes on a mouthful of chips. “H-Huh?! What?! Why me?!!” he sputters.
“Because you’ve been eating chips this entire time and haven’t contributed to anything.”
“Hey, I offered the room, didn’t I?!” He tries justifying but is inevitably rejected by Mina’s wagging finger.
“Ah-ah, no complaints! Besides, it’s only one day of training. If we want this dilemma between Bakugou and Y/n fixed then we all have to play our part, got it?” Mina finalizes with a firm point of her finger nearly grazing the tip of the blond’s nose as he leans back to avoid it, eyebrows scrunched in discontent at the role he’s been reduced to.
“Alllllright!” Kirishima springs from his seat with outstretched arms and tightened fists. “Operation: Get Y/n to Forgive Explosion Boy is underway!”
“Dude, that’s a terrible name!” Sero laughs but rises from the bed to join the redhead’s cheer alongside Mina, the group already in high spirits.
Despite rolling his eyes at their swell of confidence, Bakugou does not object to the state of things. As crazy as it sounds, one could almost decipher the cusp of a grin pulling the seams of his lips as a possible sign he’s actually all for this extravagant little plan. Quite a first for Bakugou, but then again, there’s not much else he can do in this situation except rely on his pack of chumps.
Meanwhile, Kaminari grumbles something beneath the salty grit between his teeth.
“Alright, can you all get out of my room now?”
.
.
The scowl etched on your face carries a strong air of disdain that dampens the mood around your teammates considerably. Well, no one should be surprised. With Bakugou standing across from you, staring into the void of your expression, it’s to be expected that you wouldn’t be happy with this outcome.
No, “unhappy” doesn’t quite do your circumstance justice. You are beyond livid.
You feel your eyebrow twitch as you try quivering your lips to form a tinge of a smile. Unfortunately, all that quickly falls apart when you suddenly recall the disaster of last week, triggered by an accidental glance at Bakugou’s mug.
Trying to simmer down, you release a mental sigh amidst the turmoil boiling inside you.
Okay, maybe you’re over-exaggerating. Maybe you’re still just a bit too bitter for your own good and letting your emotions get to you. But in a class of twenty or some students, how did you end up in a group with the one person you were actively trying to avoid?
The moment All Might gave everyone the go-ahead to form their teams for today’s training exercise, you swiftly made a beeline toward two particular star students. Midoriya and Todoroki.
It was simple really. Your experiences throughout the school year told you Bakugou planned on staying away from his rivals when it came to teamwork, regardless of whether you’re there or not. He’s a competitive ass whose goal is to beat anyone he deems a threat in his climb to be the number one hero. It’s only logical you partner with people he adamantly dislikes to evade him.
Yet it seems fate has other plans for you today. By the time you found yourself pacing over to the two students you had in mind, they’d already gone and picked their own group members, forming teams before you could even ask.
Your nose wrinkles like you��ve taken a whiff of something rancid. Or, to be more specific, something fishy. Hooking an arm around Mina’s elbow, you drag the pink-haired girl off to a corner somewhere while tilting your head back at the three other boys.
“Ex. Cuse. Us.” Your words sound as stiff as cardboard. It comes out in practically a hiss when your eyes cross Bakugou. Once you’re positive you’re out of earshot, you whip your head at Mina.
“Mina, what the hell? When you dragged me over here to form a group with you you didn’t tell me he’d be there,” you groan. Childish and petty as you may sound, you just couldn’t fathom the idea of confronting the boy so soon.
Mina holds her hands out, ready to rationalize the whole ordeal. “C’mon Y/n, this is actually an advantage for us! With us four plus you on our team, we’re sure to knock the rest of the other guys out during training today! I mean we showed pretty good teamwork together at the sports festival, didn’t we?”
Steadying your gaze, you hold a finger below your chin as you slowly buy into the explanation. The reasoning is there. It’s hard to argue against a case like that, fully aware that being on the same team as explosion boy will easily snag good results for you and your party. ‘Cause as much of an arrogant jerk as he is, you have to admit Bakugou Katsuki knows his way around hero action like the back of his grenade gauntlets.
“Besides it’s not like you could avoid him for the entire school year. I mean, you two are in the same class. It was only a matter of time before you had to—”
“I know, Mina,” you interject, not wanting the rest of her sentence about the inevitable fall to your ear. “I just… Agh, you know what I mean!” You ruffle your hands through your hair in confliction, unsure how to piece your thoughts together.
Tilting your head over Mina’s shoulder, you sneak a glimpse at Bakugou, watching him as he’s cast to the side with the others. He’s fending himself from Kirishima and Sero’s combined jokes, that usual look on his face sending glares at the two and yelling something you could almost pick up on if you honed your ears a bit more. Surprisingly, when his eyes meet yours for a split second, he stands there looking nonchalant again. Both of you immediately avert your gazes.
Mina pats your shoulder, bringing you back to the conversation at hand. “I know, I know, but after this, I’m sure you can go back to ignoring his ass. After all, it’s just one training exercise, right?” she says. As her words deliver some relief to your ill-timed situation, you give in with a sigh.
Unbeknownst to you, turning your back to Mina and striding toward the rest of your teammates again, you miss the small glint in her yellow eyes, along with the subtle gestures she aims at the three boys, waving her pointed thumbs over your head secretively.
“So I take it you’re on the team with us, Y/n?” Sero asks when the two of you return. You nod in reply and the boy flashes his pearly whites in a wide grin that Kirishima mirrors. He nudges Bakugou at his sides which you subtly catch in the far corner of your eye.
You raise a brow suspiciously at their fidgeting, wondering why having you on their team warrants such enthusiasm, but you’re thankful for their energy at least. Someone has to lift the atmosphere for this not to be a complete drag and Bakugou surely isn’t going to be the mood maker of the group.
The blond scoffs. “Yeah, well, if you dumbasses are going to form a team with me, you’ll follow under my leadership, got it?”
The three readily agree. Though you roll your eyes, you don’t challenge his position, considering no one else is that much up to the task as he is. You’ll simply have to deal with the fact that you’re forced to tread through the day under his leadership. So with no objections, the five of you walk back to the class, gathering around the entrance of today’s battlefield.
Jumping into the activity, All Might goes about explaining today’s lesson to the four sets of teams—consisting of a group exercise to heighten teamwork. The name of the game? Capture the flag.
In short, each team will be split off into different sections of the labyrinth where their assigned flag is stationed. The objective is to not only protect your flag from being stolen but also try and steal an opposing team’s flag from their base and escort it safely to your home field. Nice and simple.
Not long after All Might’s explanation, the gate to the training grounds opens and you all scatter off into your teams, navigating through the twists of the maze to locate your flags. Once your group situated themselves onto your home base, you assemble in a huddle to devise a strategy before the game starts.
“So what’s the plan?” Kirishima asks, eyes darting around his teammates until they rest on Bakugou—the team leader. The ash-blond crosses his arms, a confident sneer plastered on his face as he’s already thought of his plan of action the moment All Might announced the mission.
“Easy. I’m going straight to the front-lines to swipe one of those dumbasses’ flags. You lot are gonna stay here and guard ours until I come back.” He delivers the strategy in a matter-of-fact tone that you quickly don’t take a liking to. Your fist curls in irritation.
“What kind of a plan is that?” you question audaciously, your voice louder than you intended. “So you’re just going to do all the work while we sit around and wait for you?”
Bakugou grits his teeth, leaning further into the huddle to direct his senseless logic. “Look, it’s the fastest and most surefire way to snag our victory without sacrificing anyone,” he says. Playing over his words again, he finds it surprising he even chooses to offer his reasoning. Because if it were anyone other than you he was arguing with, he’s certain he’d leave it at that.
Knowing the current tension between you was a result of his misjudgment, it feels only right for Bakugou to make an effort in communication. He ignores the antsy expressions belonging to the others who signal from behind you to follow along with their original plan.
You don’t seem to catch the hint, nor do you buy into his ridiculous strategy. “Oh, so you’re that confident you won’t get taken out by the other team then?” you quip. As a result, Bakugou’s brows tighten at your noncompliance.
“I know how to take care of myself. You of all people should realize by now that no other nerd in this whole damn class can outmatch me.”
“And what about an ambush? How do you know they simply won’t anticipate your strategy and see you coming?” You fire another counterargument and the boy purses his lips, beginning to find this quarrel spiraling into a headache rather than a step in the direction of reconciliation.
While Sero and Kirishima stand there, shifting their heads back and forth throughout the fiery exchange, Mina speedily reacts. The gears of that cunning mind of hers click into place again.
“You know what, Y/n’s right. Why don’t you two go together then?” she proposes boldly. Her suggestion catches you by complete surprise. You veer in her direction with an incredulous look blown in your eyes.
Before you can open your mouth to protest, the two boys standing beside her immediately back her up.
“Hm, Mina has a point. The chances of you falling into a trap wouldn’t be much if you two work together,” Sero remarks.
Kirishima follows, “Yeah, you guys can watch each other’s backs while going to collect the flag! It’s safer to go in a pair than by yourselves I’d say.”
The three seem adamant about the idea, sharing equally content expressions, and with all that said, you find it hard to dig yourself out of this situation. In a way, you practically volunteered yourself after questioning Bakugou’s plan and doubting his abilities. The group only feels it’s right you come along as his support since you clearly must be worried about his well-being.
Pushing your objections down your throat, you reluctantly agree to tag along with the blond. What you find exceptionally shocking is how Bakugou doesn’t oppose these new conditions. Given his hard-headed temperament, you thought he would’ve scoffed and turned his back at being paired without notice, but no such things were happening here.
...Odd.
“Tch, whatever. Let’s get going then,” is all he gives, starting in the direction into the urban area of the training course.
You trail behind him. “Coming, Boom-Boy…” you mutter the last bit but don’t suppress the urge to let your words be known. Bakugou turns his head and gives you a look akin to an uptight six-year-old you just offended at your local playground. You shrug in response, a corner of your lip pinched upward. He doesn’t pick a fight over the nickname, but his eyebrows remain fiercely slanted, and coupled with his heavy steps and the excessive swinging of his gauntlet-clad arms, it tells you of his emotional constipation plain as day.
.
.
The journey toward the other teams’ flags is cloaked in strained silence and the physical gap between you two does not encourage any of you to speak up. At this point, both of your levels of annoyance for each other have mellowed out. Now it just feels... awkward—strange. You don’t see his expression, nor does he see yours. It feels like you’re being left in the dark, having only the back of Bakugou’s head to stare at the entirety of the way, and though you supposedly have his back, Bakugou feels precarious in this state as he trudges along at the front, not daring to turn his head to cross your eyes.
The ambiance is reminiscent of the ancient Greek legend of Orpheus and Eurydice. Where Bakugou walks through the depths of the underworld, seeking you out in hopes you’d join his side once again. If he turns around now and spills his thoughts to you too soon, he fears that your forgiveness would be whisked away, thoroughly beyond his reach, and replaced with your promises of retribution.
That was the eloquent version of the situation anyway. To put it bluntly, Bakugou was just impatient as hell to say something to you. The silence suffocates him to the point where the words are nearly about to be squeezed out of his throat, but he bites his lip to snuff out the urges.
The more he keeps them in, the more fidgety he becomes, hands itchy and mouth trembling with grit between his teeth. The idea of not letting his voice be heard was something Bakugou detested. Mainly because it was already such a challenge to even keep his mouth shut, given his fiery attitude and lack of patience.
Man, what the hell am I hesitating for? he asks himself, that outspoken side of him spurring him on.
Ah, screw the uncertainty, he thinks. If he doesn’t say anything now, then he won’t get to say anything ever.
Bakugou stops in his tracks, turning his head. Here goes nothing,
“Hey, Y/n, I–”
“Katsuki–”
Words collide into each other, jumbled and incoherent, which take you two by surprise as you meet each other’s furrowed gazes. It’s quiet as you both piece your way through this, eyes trained like you haven’t seen each other in months when the reality is that a week of bitterness has somehow made you act like strangers. The bewildered look crossing his features is foreign to you; you’ve never quite seen Bakugou as taken aback as he is now.
“You first,” you grant before Bakugou could mix up your words again. Even being given permission, the blond still isn’t sure what to say, his thoughts lost on him the moment his voice clashed with yours. He takes a deep breath, calming his senses and steadying his mind for what he wants to convey.
“Look, Y/n, I don’t know how to put this as nicely as I can,” he begins, tone consistent yet wary, assessing your expression, “but I know I fucked up and I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have left you there all by yourself. I shouldn’t… have blown you off like that and forgotten about you.” He delivers this bluntly—honestly—as open as a boy of his nature can muster with arms spread out, willingly exposing him to his faults and your reprisals.
Looking at you, he finds your eyes are cast to the floor, assuming to be reflecting on his words carefully. After some deliberation, you come across the vermillion in his eyes.
“Frankly, I haven’t entirely forgiven you just yet. But I will say that despite how I’ve been acting, I’m not as mad at you as you think,” is what you give, and Bakugou would be lying to himself if he didn’t achieve relief at your statement. He mentally releases a breath he hadn’t realized he was holding throughout the exchange. However, you aren’t done yet.
“I just want you to understand what moments like those mean to me. It’s during that time where I can share my feelings and learn more about you—understand who you are,” you say. Bakugou latches onto every word. “And it goes both ways, you know. It’s hard to want to stay in a relationship with someone who doesn’t make an effort to make time for you.” It’s obvious you aim that comment at him as Bakugou’s eyes soften slightly hearing it. His calloused, glove-clad hands wrap into his palms. Man, he really was a jerk.
“Still… I know you’re making an effort to be sincere and that you’re genuinely sorry for what happened, especially considering how the others seem to have set this whole conversation up, right?” Bakugou winces over the Bakusquad’s ploy coming to light and makes a note not to follow along next time unless those dummies can scrape up a more elaborate plan.
Despite that, he presses on, “So, what does this mean?” A smile settles on the curve of your lips, sensing his impatience as his voice hastens you along.
“Well…” you begin, speech drawn out in anticipation as you step toward him to where Bakugou follows your movements. That is until he catches a few shadowy figures shifting around atop the small building behind you. Before you can open your mouth to continue, his instincts flare to life.
“Hey, look out!” he exclaims, already acting on his warnings by lunging forward to push you out of the way. Your breaths draw back into your lungs, your body thrust abruptly into the opposite direction. Landing on your butt, you wince at both the shock and the pain, but your whines desist when you witness Bakugou taking a force to the head as a result of coming to your aid.
“Katsuki!” you yell, immediately getting off the ground to rush to his side, but he can’t find it in himself to respond. Afflicted with a substantial blow to the crown of his head, his whole being throbs and his vision spins.
Fuck, is Y/n, okay? is the first thing on his mind, ignoring the liquid trickling down his forehead. His question is answered upon turning his head to meet your anxious expression—your eyes wide and lips quivering as they move to say words he can’t exactly make out beneath the pounding sensations consuming his mind. As he feels a set of arms wrap around him, he tries discerning his surroundings to form a reply, but can only capture bits and pieces.
“—tsuki! ...old… n!”
“...god—! I’m so dead!”
A sputter of words tangling together is the last he hears before his vision fades to black.
.
.
The next time Bakugou awakes, his eyes slowly sever open to come face-to-face with a blurry white ceiling. The lights assault his vision as his senses take time to adjust, unraveling the environment to realize he’s laying on a bed—a hospital bed to be precise.
He attempts lifting himself but is met with retaliation in the form of his pulsating head which he immediately flinches at. His hand goes to rub his scalp to soothe the ache and he finds bandages wrapped tightly around him. “What the hell happened?” The last he remembers is traversing the urban area with you for the capture the flag mission before finally confronting the subject that had been plaguing your minds for a week now. After that, he caught sight of some object descending toward you and before he had even realized it, his feet had moved on their own. Next thing he knows, he’s waking up in the nurse’s office with a headache from hell.
Wait, what about you? Were you okay? Surely, he had to have pushed you out of the way in time, right?
His head moves quicker than it should’ve, revealing the other hospital bed in the room to be unoccupied, vacant. He sighs and his relief is further bolstered by the door to the nurse’s room opening to unveil you unharmed with only your heavy look of concern troubling him.
“Katsuki, oh thank god, you’re okay!” you say, quickly pacing over to his side with a glass of water in hand. You leave it at his bedside, sitting before him. Gauging your appearance up and down, Bakugou tries making out even the smallest details.
“You aren’t hurt?”
You’re appalled he would ask this despite clearly being the one patched up in a hospital bed right now, and likely sporting some serious head trauma.
“Of course I am, you’re the one that lunged forward to protect me,” you tell him. Bakugou looks down at his lap, figuring that was what happened, but hearing it from you comforted him more than he thought. However, his comfort is wretched from him by the intense pressure persisting in his skull. Seeing him in pain, you urge him to lay down and rest.
“How the hell did I end up here anyway?”
You fidget with your fingers, hesitating on answering. At that, the blond lifts a brow, suspicious.
“Mineta… accidentally dropped a rock on your head.”
“...You gotta be joking, right?”
Bakugou leers hard, finding the reason he was out of commission to be a damn pebble hitting his head a detriment to his pride. And because of Mineta of all fucking people. Still, if he hadn’t acted as quickly as he did, you would’ve been the one to meet his fate instead, and he weighed this outcome to better than the former.
Then you explain how the teachers had temporarily intervened to bring his unconscious body to the nurse’s, where the old lady went about tending to his injury. Said she did her job and all he needed was to rest and let her quirk take fuller effect within that time.
“So did we win the game?” He switches the topic to today’s mission of capture the flag that was cut short on his end.
You shake your head, but at least grant him the benefit of knowing Mineta’s team ended up placing last. At that, his eyelids shut and he crosses his arms behind his bandaged head. “Yeah, well, it wasn’t my intention to win anyway.”
You give him a look. “...Liar.”
Bakugou cracks an eye open at you. “Hah? What do you mean I’m a fucking liar?”
“I know you, Katsuki. I dated you, after all. And the Katsuki that I dated is an arrogant, competitive jerk who thinks of being the best above all else.” Bakugou scrunches his nose, wondering what you’re implying through your... overly frank descriptions. “Still… he’s sweet and caring at times… and reliable when he needs to be,” you continue, tone softening that draws Bakugou in, “And the kind of guy I want to give a second chance to.”
Absorbing your words, Bakugou blinks. “S-Seriously?” He doesn’t mean to stutter, but the offer catches him off-guard. He replays what you just said. That’s what he heard, right? A second chance?
You giggle at how uncharacteristically astonished he sounds. “Yes, seriously.”
“Does that mean you forgive me for what happened last week?”
You hum between pursed lips in playful contemplation. “Well, maybe you can redeem yourself by going on another date with me then?”
Hearing your proposal, a wide grin arcs his lips, edging into a smirk.
“That’s it? Well, I can definitely fucking do that,” he states, confidence rejuvenating his body at the new, hopeful chance before him.
“Oh, just one more thing though,” you suddenly add.
“What?”
“We are not going to that Chinese Restaurant again.”
#bnha x reader#mha x reader#bakugou x reader#bakugo x reader#bakugou katuski x reader#bakugo katsuki x reader#katsuki x reader#bnha imagine#mha imagine#bakugou fic#bakugo fic#bnha fic
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consequence / pt ii
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pt. ii of iii
The sky was still dark when you woke with a splitting headache. You blinked the sleep from your eyelids, eyes adjusting to the shadowy silhouettes of furniture around you. This was— one of Wangshu Inn’s rooms? You checked yourself for wounds and fractures; there was a scrape on your knee, but it had been properly dressed and bandaged.
Zhongli.
You had to get Aether and get out. You would have taken any punishment from Zhongli for breaking the contract but Aether— it was clear that Zhongli knew he could get to you through him. Your brother was in danger, too.
Stumbling to the door, you threw it open to meet the stunning Liyue night view. At the altitude of Wangshu Inn, the air was always cold and crisp, and you took a deep breath as you stepped out of the room to come face to face with a pair of familiar, bright yellow eyes.
“Xiao?” The relief you felt was immense. No matter the danger, you’d always been able to depend on the Vigilant Yaksha to back you up in battle. “I’m so glad to see you. You won’t believe this—“
Once you took a better look at Xiao’s face, you trailed off. There was no surprise in his gaze. You had not found him by a stroke of luck; he was here to stop you from leaving.
“I know of your contract with Rex Lapis.” How long had it been since he had last spoken to you in that tone of disdain? “I have helped him uphold countless in the past few millennia. Even you are no exception.”
“Xiao, I didn’t even know what the contract meant,” you pleaded, hope soaring at the flicker in his eyes. “Please, let me leave.”
The Yaksha swallowed visibly, brows knitting together. “No,” he finally said. “Go back to your room. I don’t want to have to fight you while you’re in... this state.”
“You’d fight me here?” You said, for the second time that night. “The civilians—” As you turned to gesture at the staff of Wangshu Inn, you realized that despite the commotion, not one of them was looking in your direction.
“The staff of Wangshu Inn are prepared, as am I,” Xiao said, without so much as glancing in their direction, “to carry out the will of our lord.”
Ah. You were alone here. But still, you stood firm, and watched the resignation dawn in Xiao’s eyes. You had not backed down when Chef Mao told you they were out of Almond Tofu, during your dinner with Xiao three months ago. You had not backed down when three Abyss Mages had you cornered in Lingju Pass; and even as Xiao had slaughtered them, you’d tried to get one last swing in with a tree branch. You would not back down now, and Xiao knew it as well as you did.
“I wish it didn’t come to this,” Xiao said, and you believed him wholly.
He clasped his hand to his face, and when it came away, he was wearing his mask. You supposed that you should feel a little flattered that he thought he had to don his Yaksha mask to fight you, hungover as you were. But before that, you felt worry. You knew full well what the mask did to him, had seen your fair share of aftermaths after a battle had dragged too long.
“Xiao, don’t hurt yourself,” you whispered.
In his eyes, behind the teal glow of his veil, you saw just a flicker of hesitation. But not enough.
Just as you shifted into a defensive stance — the way Xiao had taught you to do during your sparring sessions — there was a movement behind you. The Yaksha looked up over your shoulder, and immediately bowed his head, his mask fading away as quickly as it had come. You turned, even though you already knew what you’d see: Zhongli, pristine and immaculate as ever, his coat carried gently in the wind.
Disappointment in Zhongli’s gaze had always been hard to stomach, but today, it felt like the weight of the world on your lungs. “So she did try to escape, then, before even granting me an audience?” The former Archon asked, every word chilling you to your core. “Thank you for your service, Xiao. You may go now.”
Xiao lifted his head, turning to go wordlessly. Before he disappeared down the stairs, he paused. “What are you going to do to her?”
Zhongli regarded him with a lidded glance. “Only what must be done.”
—
After Xiao’s leave, Zhongli turned to you.
“Do you understand now?” He asked, flicking his hand back in the same slow gesture as he always did when he was telling a long story. You remembered how much you adored listening to the tales of the Archon War. Stories of those he conquered, brought to life through his deep, rich voice. You never thought you’d be among them, one day. “Six thousand years is a long time, even for those who live forever. I know every crack, cave and crevice, every clan, bloodline and family in Liyue. There is no place for you to run.”
You knew what he left unspoken. You had been a part of Liyue for what, one, two years? He had raised it from the earth. Despite all his talk of friendship, you would find no allies here who would, when faced with the choice, defy their archaic lord for you.
Xiao’s betrayal still stung, but in light of the weight of Zhongli’s presence before you, it was all but inconsequential, and wholly unsurprising. The slight shiver that ran down your spine, this time, was not because of the cold night air.
“What did you do to Aether?” is the first thing you managed to say.
“Your brother is safe.” Zhongli assured you. “I’ve had him sent to Bubu Pharmacy for treatment, and Paimon is looking after him.”
The relief you felt was uneasy. Safe— for now, at least.
“Where is he?”
“A location that I have secured, personally. You may see him when we are done here.” Zhongli answered seamlessly. You did not miss the threat that was left unspoken. “Though, he is not the one you ought to be worrying about, right now.”
An amicable departure from Teyvat was but a dream at this point; but maybe if you swallowed your anger, you could get him to leave you alone. Of all the farewells you had imagined, this wasn’t one you hadn’t even imagined would come to pass.
“That was it, right?” You joked weakly, even the pretense of cordiality almost too difficult to maintain, “the Wrath of the Rock? I mean, you literally knocked me out.”
Zhongli studied you carefully, before opening his mouth. “What do you think?” He asked. “ Was that a punishment fitting enough for one who reneged against the God of Contracts?”
“I— I,” You stammered for a little, but stopped once you realized it was futile. Zhongli would exact what punishment he deemed you deserved, and no force in Teyvat could possibly hope to stop him. Defeated, you exhaled deeply. “Would it help my case if I said ‘yes’?”
“No,” Zhongli answered, without hesitation. “Not in the slightest.” There was nothing left of the Zhongli you knew — thought you’d known — in his stone-cold expression.
A festering fear had settled deep within your stomach, rancid and heavy. How arrogant you had been, to think that you could thoroughly understand a being that had lived longer than recorded history, longer than human civilization in some worlds — could you even grasp the very notion of living six thousand years, of spending four thousand fighting a war? The countless bygone friends and foes he must have had to cut down?
How foolish of you to think that you could have outweighed any of them.
“What will it take to keep Aether safe?” You said, dropping your smile. If Zhongli would not budge when faced with the lingering remnants of your friendship, then you would speak to him the only way you knew how to get through to him; with a contract. “I’ll willingly accept any punishment, without a fight, as long as you promise to let him and Paimon go safely afterwards.”
Would Zhongli really… kill you? Even knowing all that you knew of his brutality during the war, it was hard to wrap your head around. You couldn’t breathe.
“Any…?” Zhongli’s huff created a small cloud of condensation in the night air. “It seems I have not taught you enough about the art of negotiation during our journey together. An open contract is a very dangerous thing to place in the hands of your adversaries.“
“I don’t care,” you snapped. Any other time, and you would have loved to hear him lecture, but...“Just tell me you won’t hurt them.”
Zhongli closed his eyes once more, as he always did when presented with a contractual proposal to ponder. Finally, when he had been still so long you’d thought he might have fallen asleep, he crossed his arms. “Very well. I accept the terms of your contract.”
At least, no matter what happened to you, Aether and Paimon would be safe.
“Come, y/n,” Zhongli beckoned with two gloved fingers, “let us continue somewhere more private.” He turned around and began walking, as though he had not a doubt that you would follow him. Well, with the terms that he had over your head, did you really have a choice?
You had been to Wangshu Inn so many times — to complete commissions, to grab a quick lunch, to bring Almond Tofu for Xiao — that you knew the land around it like the back of your hand. It would be so easy to escape on your own; you’d make it to Mondstadt within the night. Determined as Zhongli was, the idea of a diplomatic fallout with Liyue’s neighboring nation would at least make him take pause in his pursuit of you. Right?
Freedom was within your grasp. Behind you, the crickets chirped their hymns into a star-flecked sky.
You owe me big time, dear brother , you thought bitterly to yourself as you followed Zhongli back into his room.
#zhongli#genshin zhongli#zhongli x reader#yandere zhongli#yan!zhong#zhongli fanfic#genshin fanfic#consequence#anqi writes#my writing
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Please do 61 with Ransom.
61) “If you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.”
Hmmm, more OTP for all you lovely hoes! You nonnies just keep lobbing em right at me.
This ended up sparking something in me and I ended up writing a full length fic about more escapades with the asshole bunch.
Tagging my babes @chrissquares @stargazingfangirl18 (I’m targeting you a little with this one Siri cuz lacrosse Ransom is def wearing Fila) @subtlebucky @egcdeath
Quick, dirty, outdoor smut!!! No minors!!!
You and Ransom had decided to meet at the park with the other couples in his little asshole group of friends.
It was finally starting to warm up some, and when the boys had brought up getting out the sticks for some lacrosse you had jumped on it. Ransom didn’t have the balls to tell you it was really just a guy thing, you looked so excited about it.
He parked the beemer at the park entrance and grinned when he saw your Volvo already there. He grabbed his sticks and the cooler full of beer from the trunk and headed towards the field where he saw the rest of you gathered.
He groaned as he drew closer and finally got a good look at you as you waved at him. You looked like a preppy dream in a polo shirt and tiny shorts, a headband around your forehead and knee high socks under your cleats.
“Hey baby!” You said giddily as you ran towards him with your stick slung over your shoulders. “Can you believe I still fit in my high school uniform?”
“I think you’re taking this a little too seriously sweetheart.” He grinned, dropping the cooler and catching you when you jumped into his arms and pressed your lips to his with a satisfied hum.
“Says the man who showed up wearing his letterman’s jacket.” You teased as you hopped down and helped him carry the cooler the rest of the way.
“Yeah? Well if you don’t change out of those shorts and into some pants I’ll have them around your ankles by lunch time.” He purred in your ear as you set down the cooler, wrapping his stick around your back and drawing you close.
“Ha! I’m not playing lacrosse in pants, Hugh!” You said with a shake of your head. “But keep that in mind for later. Can you believe none of the other girls brought sticks?”
“Honey, none of them play lacrosse.” He chided as he watched you stretch.
“Well then what’s the point of... oh goddamn it!” You rolled your eyes as you stood up. “This was supposed to be another boy’s outing where I sit with the other girls and get wine drunk wasn’t it? Don’t answer that! Chauvinist assholes...”
He just chuckled as he watched you mutter to yourself angrily, grabbing your extra sticks and storming off towards the other girls, gesturing wildly as you tried to go over the basics with them.
“So, the girls are playing then?” Dylan asked as he came to stand by Ransom, grabbing an IPA from the cooler and taking a gulp.
“Sure seems that way.” Ran answered as he watched you shove a stick at Lexi and make a throwing motion that she tried to emulate feebly.
“Is this gonna be another day of your girlfriend showing us all up, Drysdale?” Chaz asked as he joined the two of them, chuckling as they tried to figure out exactly what you were trying to instruct the girls on now. “Cuz I don’t think my ego can take it.”
“I dunno what to tell you man.” Ran said with a shrug, grabbing himself a beer and drinking deep. “Quit inviting us to this shit if you don’t want her to hand your ass back to you.”
“Alright douchebags, lets play some lacrosse!” You screamed at them, a massive grin splitting your face.
“I can’t decide if having her on my team or playing against her will be worse.” Logan groaned as the four men walked towards the field apprehensively.
“Alright, should we split this up by couples or what?” Dylan asked as Lexi moved to stand next to him.
“Sounds good to me.” You beamed.
“Great, so Y/N, Ran , Chaz and Brit, you guys can play together and me, Jess, Logan, and Lex will be the other team. Girls play defense.”
“Sounds good.” Ran said fast before you had a chance to start an argument, guiding you away from the center of the field quickly.
“But I play attack, babe.” You whined as he walked next to you and stopped in front of the goal.
“Yeah, I think that you playing attack might be a little too much all at once sweetie.” He said with a shrug as he moved to middle position. “Just channel that frustration babe, you’ll do great!”
You just chewed on your lip as you watched Logan and Chaz grapple for the ball. Logan won out, barreling over Chaz and spinning past Ran like a pro. You smirked as you pivoted towards him, bracing yourself as you charged each other.
He shifted his weight to spin around you and you grinned before full body checking him, ripping the stick out of his hand and helicoptering it out of his grip as you tossed him over your shoulder. You scooped the ball up and lobbed it to Ransom as you sprinted up the field. He passed it back to you when Dylan tried to take him down and you snatched it out of the air before diving around a confused looking Lexi and chucking the ball at the net, grinning when it sailed past Jess for a point.
“Goddamn it!” Dylan groaned as you jogged past him back to your position, giving Ransom a celebratory high five that he followed up with a smack on the ass as he grinned at you.
Logan was still trying to stand up as you returned to your defensive position, glaring at you as he ran a hand through his hair.
“How the fuck was that not a foul?!” He seethed at you.
“A foul?!” You shouted with an air of disdain. “Don’t be a pussy Van Doren! You bring that weak shit to my house and I’m serving it right back to you! Right babe?”
“That’s right babe!” Ran shouted back to you as he shrugged apologetically at Logan when he stalked past him.
The rest of the game went about the same, you hardly let anyone past and Logan flinched so bad every time you got near him it was easy for your team to dominate. Dylan finally called a stop after an hour, he and Logan covered in dirt and bruises from the rough play.
“That’s it, we’re done. I need a fucking drink.” He huffed as he dragged himself off the field, Lexi bouncing next to him excitedly. Apparently, one of the things you had been teaching the girls was how to hit, and she had cracked Chaz and Ransom a couple of times. You grinned and congratulated her and the other girls on a game well played as you moved to grab a porter from the cooler.
“Jesus Christ, Drysdale. That woman is a damn menace.” Logan groaned as he grabbed a bag of ice and pressed it against his ribs.
“Yeah, how the fuck do you keep up with her?” Chaz asked, shaking his head as sipped his lager. “She’s barely sweating.”
“I don’t even know man.” He said with a shrug, gasping for air as he chugged his IPA. “She’s a fucking pistol.”
“Not the word I’d use but whatever.” Logan said, annoyed at you two.
“Shut up, L, you’re just pissed she beat the shit out of you.” Dylan said with a grin. “Where you going, Ran?”
“Gotta take a leak!” Ransom lied as he jerked his head towards the trees suggestively after making eye contact with you.
“Scuse me gals, I gotta help Hugh with something.” You said around a grin after chugging the rest of your beer.
“Jesus, you two will do it anywhere, huh?” Brittney said with an eye roll.
You just shrugged at her as you jogged after Ransom towards the small clutch of pines.
Ransom grabbed you around your waist and swung you off your feet when you reached him, making you squeal before he smashed his lips against yours.
“You were amazing.” He purred as he pressed you up against a tree, running his lips up and down your throat and making you whine.
“Yeah, I’m a fucking legend babe. I told you.” You muttered around a grin. “Did you see those hits I landed?”
“Mmhm, sure did.” He mumbled, nipping at the hollow behind your ear that he knew drove you crazy as his hips ground against you.
“You ever eat a legend’s pussy, Hugh?” You teased, starting to shove his head down between your legs.
“Are you fucking kidding me? Y/N!” He whined as you forced him to his knees. “I was kinda hoping we could both get something out of this.”
“Sorry babe, middle gets whatever attack says they get.” You said with a shrug as you slid your shorts off and hooked your leg over his shoulder. “Make me come with that pretty mouth and maybe I’ll let you get your dick wet.”
“Bitch.” He murmured as he started brushing his lips over your inner thigh, no real malice in his tone as he gazed at you through his lashes.
“That’s right Hugh, I’m the fucking bitch. Now lick it.”
He ran his nose over your clothed core and inhaled deeply before shoving your panties aside. You moaned as he dragged his tongue over your slit, lapping up the evidence of your arousal before swirling his tongue through your folds.
His hands moved under your ass and tilted your hips towards his face, giving him even more access to your dripping heat. Your fingers gripped his hair painfully when he flicked his tongue over your asshole in a quick series of kitten licks before moving it in a heavy stripe back up to your clit.
You had to bite your lip to keep from screaming when he slid a finger inside you, curling it in a come hither motion at the same time he pressed his tongue against your clit. He lashed your bundle of nerves lightly as you writhed against him, your head thumping back against the tree as he slipped in a second finger.
His lips wrapped around your clit as he started fucking you with his digits, curling and twisting them inside you so he hit every spot he knew would drive you absolutely crazy. You felt him grin against you as he shook his head to bury himself deeper in your folds, groaning when he felt you clench around his fingers.
“Fuck, Ransom! I’m so close.” You panted breathlessly, grinding your pussy into his face as you neared the edge.
You felt him slide his pinky into your puckered hole, spearing past the tight ring of muscle until you felt the cool metal of his ring against your entrance and you fucking lost it.
Your thighs tried to crush his skull as you came violently, somehow managing to swallow the shriek that tried to rip out of your chest. He moaned as he ran his tongue over your pussy to collect your release as it ran over his fingers while you clenched and fluttered around him.
“How was that, champ?” He said around a wicked grin once you finally released his head, sliding his hands up your body as he stood up.
“Good... it was good.” You panted as he buried his face in your neck.
“Yeah? Good enough for you to help me out, babe?” He asked, grinding his hips into you to show you how hard he was at the same time he wrenched your polo and sports bra up to expose your breasts.
“I think we can work something out.” You murmured as he palmed your breast with one hand while the other splayed over your ass.
“What did you have in mind, sweetheart?” He hummed as his lips moved over your throat softly.
“Oh, I dunno. Something extra special for my favorite middle.” You purred, pushing him away from you a little bit so you could turn around.
“Fuck, really?” He beamed, running his hand over your ass as he pressed you into the tree.
“Really, you did such a good job, baby, you deserve a reward.” You said as you peeked are him over your shoulder. “Now fuck my ass until I come again, Hugh.”
He chuckled darkly into your hair as he slid his shorts down his legs and drew his cock out of his boxer briefs. You moaned as he ran his length through your slick before he pressed his tip against your pretty hole. The groan he let out as he speared into you made your pussy clench around nothing, fluttering as your body tried to draw him as deep as possible until he was fully sheathed in you and his hips were resting against your ass.
“Shit. Oh my god.” He hissed into your shoulder as he stilled his hips for a beat. “You feel so fucking good, baby.”
“Yeah, I know.” You mumbled as the tree bark scratched at your cheek. “Could you move? I’d like to have another orgasm sometime before noon.”
“So fucking bossy.” He groaned before sliding out of you halfway and slamming back into you, making you yelp.
You moaned as he finally started fucking you, his hips moving at a vicious pace as he bounced you against the tree. He wrapped a hand around your throat and squeezed lightly as he drew you back against his chest.
“Love when you let me fuck your ass, baby.” He growled in your ear as his hips slapped against your cheeks, making you mewl as slick started leaking down your thighs from your aching pussy. “Love how wet you get and how you strangle my cock. You want my fingers in that tight little pussy?”
“Yeah.” You whined as he teased his fingers over your clit. “Need you in my pussy so bad Ran, I’m gonna come.”
He sucked your earlobe between his teeth and spanked your pussy before shoving three fingers inside you as you came with a shriek, your body arching against him as you spasmed uncontrollably.
“Jesus, you’re squeezing me so good.” He groaned as you came down, sobbing with pleasure and sagging against him. “I’m gonna fill this ass up.”
You felt his cock throbbing inside you at the same time he twisted his fingers and you screamed, your release gushing out of you and soaking his thighs as he filled you with his spend, pressing you against the tree and sinking his teeth into your shoulder as his hips jerked. He groaned into your hair as he shoved his cum deep inside you and pulled his fingers from your swollen cunt.
“Holy fuck.” He mumbled into your hair before sucking his fingers into his mouth and groaning at your taste.
“Yeah.” You murmured as you yanked your bra and shirt back down and pulled your panties back into place before bending over to slide your shorts back on. “You should’ve lettered in that.”
——————————————————————————
A/N: Not just regular assholes, preppy jock assholes!!!
#natalie answers#smut prompts#ransom drysdale x you#ransom drysdale x y/n#ransom x you#ransom drysdale smut#ransom drysdale x female reader#ransom drysdale x reader#ransom smut#ransom drysdale#chris evans#chris evans smut#chris evans character#smut#eighteen and over#eighteen plus#do not interact if you are a minor
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A/N: I don’t know man, we got a smart fridge and it went to my head, might make this a series idk
Also- if you like my writing please fill out the interest form here, I want to make an x reader zine for haikyuu and want to see if there is any interest for it!
“Ah don’t like it,” Osamu clicks his tongue, his dark eyes creased into a glare. “Ah don’t like it at all.”
You roll your eyes, leaning against the kitchen counter as you get a good look at the object of Osamu’s disdain.
In front of you, it all it’s glory, stands the french style, four door, customizable bottom right compartment, craft ice, Samsung smart fridge. The glossy surface of the led screen, still covered in the protective plastic, stares back at both of you.
“If you didn’t like it you should have said something.” You shrug.
“Ah did say something” His gaze softens when it sweeps to you, but his mouth remains in the firm straight line. You would tell him to be careful, his face could get stuck like that after all, and then who would greet customers at Onigiri Miya? But you get the feeling Osamu doesn’t want to hear that right now.
“You should have said something louder” Your fingers twitch to the corner of the screen, fidgeting with the plastic, and Osamu sighs.
“How much did this thing set ya back?” His thick index and forefinger rub at his temple, eyes warily watching you set up the fridge and connect it to your wireless Internet.
“A little more than ‘not much’” you admit. Even without the smart appliance upgrade, it was a pretty pricy purchase, since the total for the upgrade was only slightly more, you didn’t see the harm in treating yourself to a nice piece of technology.
Well, not until now at least.
“Is it too late to return it?” Osamu asks, and you feel the skin on your forebears stretch as your eyebrow quirks up.
“Why? Are you in the mood to destroy our credit and end our financial lives before they even really begin?” Osamu cracks a smile at your sarcastic comment and you feel the tightness in your chest relax a little.
So he’s not completely beside himself with rage.
“I thought you of all people would appreciate this.” And it’s true, you did think he’d be beside himself needing out about what a culinary advancement this fridge would be. You should have known better considering the quality of the appliances at Onigiri Miya you suppose.
“Oh?” His eyebrows raise into his hairline, the corner of his mouth lilting into a smirk. “Why’s that?”
He’s only humoring you, you know that. But despite it, you can’t seem to let this opportunity slip through your fingers.
“Well, the fridge does everything, it makes three different kinds of ice, including the big spheres you get at bars, you can turn the bottom right compartment into a freezer, and best of all the fridge takes care of everything, see-“ you point to the led screen which has a recipe for inari onigiri on it. “It can even tell what’s in your fridge and recommend what to make for meals”
Really, it’s pretty incredible, it even connects to your doorbell so you can see if someone’s there with a package, or just another telemarketer that you can avoid. You’re starting to think your refrigerator might be even smarter than you.
Osamu should love this thing. But he doesn’t. Over the course of your speech, his mouth slowly curled down, until it resumed its previous frown.
“That’s the problem” His eyes are averted, refusing to meet yours as you silently prod for more information. It takes three long seconds for him to realize you’re waiting for him to elaborate, and another three seconds for him to find the courage to admit it out loud.
“It’s just…. If this thing does everything, than what am ah supposed to do” his voice is soft, only slightly louder than a whisper, but you hear him loud and clear. As the silence stretches between you too, so does the color on Osamu’s face. First a light pink, no darker than the palest pink rose, blooming into a deep scarlet.
“Well at least say somethin’” he mumbles, his face hidden behind his hand and bite your lips to keep from laughing.
“I’m sorry, I’m still processing the fact that you’re jealous of a refrigerator”
His gaze swings to you, hand falling away from his face and hanging limply by his side. His mouth opening and closing, only to open again, unable to find the right words.
At the sight, you can’t contain yourself any longer, and laughter bubbles out of you. Softly at first, and then in a rush of gasps and wheezes.
“Oh my god!” You manage between fits of laughter. “Who would have- who would have guessed-“ you pause as another roll of giggles pass your lips, tears forming in the corner of your eyes. “Who would have guessed my six foot tall, Adonis-like, boyfriend is jealous of a household appliance!” You howl with laughter, and Osamu’s blush only darkens, teeth digging into his lip.
“W-well how am ah supposed to feel when ya- when ya bring this machine to come in and steal mah job!” He points an accusatory finger towards the fridge and you laugh even harder.
“Your job?” You screech, slapping the counter with one hand and wiping away the tears from your eyes with the other.
“Yes! I consider taking care of you my job!” He’s still bright red when the words fall past his lips, and when you stop laughing and look at him, finally understanding that this is more than just petty ego, he looks away.
“Oh ‘Samu” you murmur, and he sighs when he feels his hand tugged into both of yours.
“Jus’ wanna be good for ya” he mumbles, burying his face into your hair.
“You are ‘Samu, if you want we don’t have to use the smart features, I can just turn it off” it wasn’t exactly that simple, the panel controlled the temperature after all, but before you can worry too much you feel Osamu shake his head.
“Nah, it’s fine, you’re right it is pretty handy.”
You feel your mouth arch into a grin as you look up at him, his eyes are warm as they gaze at you, those soft pink lips curled into a smile.
“I knew you’d like it”
#Haikyuu#haikyuu x reader#haikyuu x gender neutral reader#haikyuu imagines#osamu smau#Osamu Miya#miya osamu#Osamu x reader#osamu miya x y/n#osamu miya x you#osamu miya x reader#haikyuu zine#haikyuu!!
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Hear My Heart!
Song association with these beautiful boys. Glimpses of your life with them told through music. Fluff fluff fluff! Maybe a bit of angst thrown in here and there.
Ft. Tsukishima Kei, Oikawa Tōru, & Kageyama Tobio
↠ Tsukishima Kei
“I say the wrong shit at the right times. If I'm offending them, I don't mind. Maybe they all should listen to me, it isn't all about what you see. Question though, how do I look to you...?”
Scrawny. Motherfucker. With a meh-hairstyle. Until he grows it out and he beefs the fuck up in the timeskip.. good lord, have mercy.
♫ Tsukishima rolls his eyes at you and uses every bit of self-restraint he has to never give you the satisfaction of his attention. He will always fail. It shows in the littlest things, though he doesn’t really notice it.
♫ Tsukishima will let you call him nicknames. He’ll be on your case ten times more (or ten times less) than on anyone else’s. When he’s being a bitch to someone, he doesn’t care at all what they think. But every time, he secretly looks for your face, praying the look on it isn’t disdain. Disgust for him being the way he is.
♫ You see him without his headphones one day and you thought the world was ending. That is, until he brings out a pair of earphones. “Would you like to listen to some real music instead of the trash you blast everyday?” You can’t help but come a little closer, the way he flinches ever-so-slightly at your scooching. He doesn’t understand why, but he finds himself at your side—and he doesn’t want to leave.
“Wired and phoned to a heart of glass. Now I'm falling in love too fast—with you or the songs you chose, and all the stars play for me...”
♫ Tsukishima’s blonde head rests on his dinosaur-cased pillows, ears red from a day of being smushed by his headphones. Instead of watching his nightly selection of videos before bed, he decides to end his day with something more lyrical. Maybe it’s not so bad, he thinks, as the playlist you sent to him is now being blasted by the same person who once called it trash.
♫ Tsukishima hears you through each lyric, imagines you singing along with the biggest smile. Laughing as if you didn’t have him on his knees, falling at your feet. He’ll never admit it, but he wished the words were for him. Moonlight blinds his eyes through his bedroom window. The boy you call moon isn’t used to feeling like this, so all he can do is close his eyes and wonder if you were always this bright, this sweet, this dreamy. Did you ever look so nice before? He falls in love with you, more and more before he falls asleep.
(Not giving him an angst song, because I can’t handle Tsukki’s peak asshole characterization when it comes to romance. If you would like one though, Jealous by Eyedress has lyrics that fit well with every angst fic’s Tsukki.)
“You are my medicine when you're close to me. So call in the submarines, 'round the world we'll go. Does anybody know, love—If we're looking out on the day of another dream?”
♫ Golden rays shine upon your golden-haired boy, hard-to-miss as he stands tall under dinousaur bones. It was his first day working in the museum, and you know how much he’d been looking forward to it. You hear him snort at the last text you sent him, some lame joke about berries and cream and a picture of his favorite strawberry shortcake stuffed in your mouth. You almost knock over a stand as you creep up behind his hunched figure. “Hey there, four-eyes. I was wondering if you could tell me about these things.” You’re unaware of how his heart skips a beat, how the nerves that had him shaking suddenly disappear as he basks in your presence. “Guess I wouldn’t mind wasting my time a bit, starburst.”
♫ A punch and a kiss, a snicker here and there as you whine at him for not calling you “sunshine” and for not letting you drag his lanky ass home right away. You take a picture to capture the moment, both of you beaming as he tells you stories about the fossil he’s been studying. When his shift ends, he continues to show you around. No matter how many museum dates you’ve had, no matter how many times he’s seen your face and held you close after a game—he still can’t believe he isn’t dreaming. In a world full of plastic that surrounds him, you are the one true, natural, real thing that he cherishes wholeheartedly. He shines because of your light, and he’ll rest his own bones with you forever.
(OMH is a song about consumerism and love and I don’t know why I associate this with him but yes. Also don’t know why I added the berries-and-cream thing but for those of you who need context: it’s a trend?? on TikTok from a Starburst commercial. The moon calling you his sun—ugh, c’mere and kiss me, Mr. Jerkface He gets visuals because I found some perfect for this scene and it’s his birthday. // Bonus song: I Wear Glasses by Mating Ritual <3)
↠ Oikawa Tōru
“You like me, oh, obviously. So why you trying to leave when you know that I’m the king? ‘Cause I’m supreme—choose me...”
♫ Oikawa, from the get-go, will spend his time trying to convince you that you were in love with him. He found you attractive, even more irresistible as you resisted his charms. Or at least tried to. If he sees you with someone else, having the audacity to be interested in someone other than him, he’ll huff and puff in jealousy like he was blowing a pig’s house down. It’s fine, you’ll always come back to him, right?
♫ Oikawa is an unstoppable flirt; it’s usually a force of habit, a slip of the tongue instead of something meant to be taken seriously.. a front. But for you? He means every single word. All he wants is to be king—not of the court, not of the world, but of your heart. And for his reign there to never end.
(When he says “I’m supreme” it’s him trying to reassure himself that he’s the best... right? Even though he knows he doesn’t deserve anyone. *Sobs* Bonus: Crush Culture. Me trying to resist this man after despising him for so long...)
“You’re the ground my feet won’t reach. So if you’re lonely—darling, you’re glowing. If you’re lonely, come be lonely with me...”
♫ Oikawa hasn’t had the time to know what true love is, but he longs for it. He longs to be understood, appreciated, valued. Imagine the effort he puts in pursuing his dream, proving that he is worthy of achieving it. But that fear of his eats at him, his heart inside his throat.
♫ How could he let someone into his life just to watch him fail? How will he know that he is worthy enough of you? He isn’t even worthy of playing for Nationals.. He doesn’t mind being alone anymore, it still hurts—but he doesn’t mind. But if he can be alone with you, if you want him.. maybe then will he realize what love really is.
(Saved myself from pain by not giving Oikawa a full-on angst song here. If you would like to listen to one, Georgia by Vance Joy fits well. After he pushes you away, choosing volleyball before you, never thinking of the possibility of his dream and his dream girl coexisting. Soon, he finally realizes how much you really meant to him.. but only when you’ve gone.)
“Even if my heart stops beating, you’re the only thing I need with me. Even if the Earth starts shaking, you’re the only thing worth taking with me...”
♫ You run to him—your pretty boy—after his first game for Argentina. You don’t care for sweat, as you jump into his arms the moment after he raises his medal into the air, saying “This is for you.” The roaring crowd, the team’s cheers; all the sounds surrounding him should be hurting his ears already. But he hears nothing but you. “Happy and proud of you, my love. No matter what.”
♫ Out of all the things he’s done, the balls he’s set, the awards he’s gotten, the gold and the glamour... being loved by you is his greatest accomplishment. Through the ends of the Earth, through heaven and hell, he will follow you. All he needs in this life is the world in his arms. His world. Sorry to say, but you’re stuck with him forever.
↠ Kageyama Tobio
“I must have turned bright red, ‘cause I couldn’t stand to face you. ‘Cause I liked what I saw. Maybe we should just stay friends...”
♫ Kageyama (just like yet so unlike his senpai) wouldn’t know love if it was spiked to his face. However, things change when he meets you, looking like a goon in the dumbest sweatshirt. He thought he was going to die; chest tightening, he couldn’t breathe and thought he was having a heart attack. It happens again, every time he sees you. Yet after that, every time you give him a carton of milk and a quick wave, he’s never felt so alive.
♫ Kageyama would be baffled as Tanaka and Noya gush at the idea of the King of the Court having a crush. A crush? What’s that? He couldn’t look you in the eye after the team explains, Sugawara sending you a look of.. sympathy? When Kageyama steals a glance at you himself, his head hurts at trying to comprehend his own stupidity. He can.. like someone? Could you ever return those feelings?
“But all you want is milk, more than you can drink. All you want is honey—you can't take the sting. You live for overkill, but you're ungrateful still. All you want is honey, well, honey I tried...”
♫ Kageyama is the first to screw up in your newfound relationship. He changed—you know that—but remnants of his old personality still remain at times. He said something hurtful. He made you feel incompetent, made you feel like you weren’t enough, like your opinion and emotions didn’t matter.
♫ You don’t know what he wants. You just know he wants more, and you’ll never be enough for him. His ambition and determination to be better, his endless pursuit for growth were once some of the many things that made you fall in love with him.. made you look up to him. Now? It is his downfall.
(All the songs titled Milk are depressing. Listen to Milk by Cheats for another depressing alt-pop perspective. For sexy time with Tobio-chan, Milk & Honey by Beck <3)
“Guess I'm missing all your energy—that's all I want. Promise I am not your enemy, I just need another memory—that's all I want. ‘Cause all I want is you, is you...”
♫ You play with the fingers he keeps in the best condition, his warmth bouncing off of your body. You barely catch the words that fall from his lips, into your ear—but you hear it. “I love you.” He missed the bright smile that always blinds his blueberry orbs. He missed how you’d pout and punch his arm as he teases you. He used his hunger for success to succeed in making you his again. And the universe is on his side, since the day he met you, the day he confessed to you, the day he told you he loved you.
♫ You will always be more than enough for him. He feels like he could take on anything with you, a winner in every sense as you stroll into the Olympics by his side. He’s an idiot, you think to yourself. Your idiot, and you wouldn’t have it any other way.
A/n:
꩜ Happy birthday, salty boy Kei! Might as well post this as my tribute for you first because I’m not done with your birthday fluff drabble yet + Bokuto’s :(
꩜ Pretty pissed because I spent a good 3 weeks on these and only now did I realize that there’s a limit to the audio links. I could’ve posted these a long, long time ago. But at the same time this is pretty half-assed and all my tiny brain could squeeze out this month—*sad ara ara gomen* Might post a part two of those I’ve already done (includes Suna, Atsumu, Suga/Iwa, Kuroo, Kenma) or the JJK version. I hope you got to play the songs while reading! I cry to my Oikawa playlist a lot :’)
#haikyuu#tsukishima x reader#tsukishima kei#tsukki x reader#tsukishima drabbles#tsukishima headcanons#haikyuu headcanons#haikyuu drabbles#haikyuu imagines#haikyuu oikawa#oikawa x reader#toru oikawa#oikawa tooru#haikyuu songfic#kageyama tobio#kageyama fluff#haikyuu fluff#haikyu imagines#haikyuu comfort#oikawa fluff#tsukki hcs#tsukishima fluff#kore writes
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"You want to know what death is? I'll tell you. Death is the loss of life. Despite everything doctors like me attempt... a patient's life can still fall through our fingers. You think death lies in the apex of science? Anyone with such little regard for life will die by my hand."
Character Analysis: Yosano Akiko
Age: 25 || Ability: Thou Shalt Not Die
BSD CHAPTER CHAPTER 65-66 SPOILERS
table of contents:
1. Author counterpart.
2. Yosano's history.
3. 'Angel of Death' defined.
4. Yosano and Atsushi.
YOSANO BRAINROT!*(#&!*@#($
1. Author counterpart.
Having been given the “Sho Ho” at birth, Yosano Akiko’s counterpart—the real-life author—was known for her zealous take on both feminism and pacifism.
Side note: Once again, to avoid confusion, I will use the name Sho Ho in reference to the real-life author, and Yosano in reference to the BSD character.
Sho Ho's writings were pretty much out-of-the-ordinary in her time, and despite being suppressed by the social norms of gender hierarchy, she sought to reform society’s view on the cultural perspectives of women and their sexuality (She expressed her love for a woman in one of her poems, but many still argued on whether she identified herself as queer or not.)
"Thou Shalt Not Die," Yosano's ability, is actually named after one of Sho Ho's most famous, controversial poems. She wrote it for her brother, who was a soldier in the war between Russia and Japan (1904-1905). In her poem, she expressed her general distaste for war and how her brother was a part of it.
O my young brother, I cry for you Don't you understand you must not die! You who were born the last of all Command a special store of parents' love
Would parents place a blade in children's hands
Teaching them to murder other men Teaching them to kill and then to die? Have you so learned and grown to twenty-four?
- excerpt from Sho Ho's poem, "Kimi Shinitamou Koto Nakare"
Her words were blunt enough to inflict guilt on her brother's conscience, as she wasn't afraid to express her disapproval over how her brother took part in the typical violent bloodshed and manslaughter of war. Such opinions perturbed the authorities, and her work was eventually banned from the public for a period of time. Later on, it was used as an anti-war statement.
2. Yosano's history.
Now, as for the character in BSD, Yosano is seen to be generally strong-willed, and later on, we see that she is terrifyingly compassionately ambitious in the way she treats her patients. She treasured life itself, and hated the thought of losing a patient.
Yosano had developed her relations with Mori Ougai back in the Great War, when she was just 11 years old. Her ability was a great benefactor in saving lives. Realistically speaking, she was used for her ability to heal injured soldiers and diminish the effect of any casualty acquired.
Initially, she wasn't aware of this, until one of her close friends pointed it out by subtly accusing Mori of manipulating her to participate in the War under the close-to false pretence of 'saving lives.'
As much as her ability did save lives, it also forced soldiers to return to the frontlines and suffer injuries over and over again. The soldiers were never given the opportunity to return to their families because of her ability. This obliged them to carry on in the war without any excuse, inserting them into a vicious cycle they had no escape out of.
Metaphorically speaking, Yosano's hatred for Mori sort of mirrors Sho Ho's disdain for war and fighting, don't you think? The way Kafka materialised Yosano's past was quite interesting because he used chapters 65 and 66 to explain Yosano's dislike for Mori, reflecting how Sho Ho used her poem to explain why she condemned the idea of war and how her brother was part of it.
Before the effect of her ability was fully understood, however, every soldier praised and thanked her for what an angel she was. One of the soldiers she had befriended and gotten close to even kept a tally of the number of times she had saved him. He was the one who gifted her the butterfly hairpin she wore all the time.
The weight of the truth that her ability was a curse rather than a blessing fully dawned on her when her soldier friend ultimately committed suicide, because the fact of being indefinitely trapped in the throes of war agonised him until his spirit gave out. This drove Yosano to loathe her ability, or rather, how it was used.
In the time she participated in the War, Yosano was given the alias 'angel of death' due to the control she retained over the battlefield, but I thought that perhaps Kafka had a reason behind giving her this title, so I did my research.
3. 'Angel of Death' defined.
Side note: I wouldn't want to disrespect any culture or religion, so if my citations are inaccurate and/or disrespectful, do feel free to correct me/let me know! I did research out of pure curiosity, and I don't intend to twist the significance of any of the interpretations.
I had to grow up learning about the basics of religious stuff, so it's kind of nice to study something out of the box, and very much against my father's rigid belief system :D
ARCHANGEL ARIEL
(archangel: an angel of higher rank)
I came across the few characteristics of angels/goddesses and their roles, and the one which really caught my attention was the female archangel, Ariel, the angel of nature.
[ source ]
In Hebrew, the name Ariel means 'altar' or 'lioness of God,' and her role is to heal. In addition to that, she is also recognised as a helper to another one of the seven main archangels, Raphael, whose role is to provide physical and emotional healing, too.
She is the protecter of the environment and the animals therein, and is bestowed with the duty to oversee the order of heavenly bodies as well as earth's natural resources. She assures the sustenance of food, water, shelter, and supplies of human beings, much like how a nurse is to a patient I suppose.
In relation to Yosano, I think this part is pretty self-explanatory, or perhaps this is blown out of proportion HA, so take this as a suggestion rather than a fact, because I'd like to believe that Kafka had a reason for giving Yosano a title as such.
In the past, I've come across the angel of death only to perceive it as a female grim reaper of some sort, so it was pretty cool to find that the word 'angel' and 'death' made up a title of a someone like Ariel, one of the purest forms of humility and compassion.
GREEK GODDESS PANAKEIA
For my beloved (wannabe/or not) students of Greek mythology (much like myself, let's make a cult!), you've probably heard of Panakeia, the goddess of healing. Medicine finds most of its vital significance in Greek history, and in its mythology, Panakeia is actually known for her ability to heal any kind of sickness.
[ source ]
Her name means 'panacea,' which is actually defined as a remedy for all diseases. Terminal diseases and injuries lead to death, right? This would bring us back to Yosano's ability to nullify any injury's effects on a person, keeping them from death itself.
Now, we know that in order for Yosano's ability to work, her patient, or victim, has to be in a near-death condition in order for her treatment to take effect. This can't exactly fit into the description of resurrection, but it can be described as some sort of rebirth.
GREEK GODDESS PERSEPHONE
So another goddess which reminds me of Sho Ho/Yosano, is Persephone, the goddess of spring and rebirth. Before Hades, the god of the underworld, fell in love with Persephone to take her to live with him, Persephone lived a happy life.
Hades, with his nature of darkness and the like, was captivated by how pure Persephone was, and stole her away from her former life to live in an environment which differed sharply from her natural aura of purity.
[ source ]
Remember when Yosano's friend left a note behind before he killed himself? The note said nothing except for, "You are too righteous." Take that as you will, but figuratively speaking, you could say Mori takes the role of Hades in the story, while Yosano can be portrayed as Persephone.
Sho Ho can also be a parallel of Persephone, in that she had to adapt to the realities of war and disharmony, while Persephone had to adapt to the raw darkness of the underworld with Hades.
Sho Ho stood against society's norms and decided to reform it, making her one of the most well-known feministic pacifist in history, while Persephone managed to escape from the underworld to return to her former position, earning the title the 'Bringer of Life,' or the 'Destroyer of Death.'
Furthermore, the way Sho Ho's anti-war poem took its effect later on, reflects the way Persephone restored balance in the world after returning from the underworld.
4. Yosano and Atsushi.
chapter 66; Yosano: "It's my fault that those close to me died... Is there some place where it's okay for me to live?"
chapter 8; Atsushi: "If I have any chance of saving them all, of returning them home safely, would that mean it's okay for me to keep on living?"
I couldn't help but think of Dazai and Atsushi back when I was reading through these panels. Ranpo (my beloved), along with Fukuzawa, accepted Yosano as she was, despite how her ability was a cause of despair and misfortune.
Ranpo looked past her mistakes and the entirety of how dark her past was to welcome her into the Armed Detective Agency. Dazai, on the other hand, knew who Atsushi was and what his ability had made him do before anyone else, and still decided to provide a safe place for Atsushi to find his sense of belonging, journeying with him as he learned to use his ability properly.
For more info about Dazai and Atsushi's dynamic, you can check out the analysis I did for Dazai :D
Atsushi desired to save people to prove his right to live, while Yosano made her wish to achieve the recovery of all her patients the reason for her existence.
Others would prefer to accuse both Yosano and Atsushi of having a saviour complex, but the reason why they pursued to save people with utmost dedication, stems from the nature of what their past was like. You know the saying 'from broken to beautiful?' Yeah, it's something like that.
The way their pasts were written out gave them a desire to change, which was, I daresay, initiated by the people who took them in: Ranpo and Dazai. Their abilities were demonised because of how they were used, but once they broke from their abilities' effect over their lives, they honed their skills to control them for the right cause instead.
In a less cynical point of view, I believe both Yosano and Atsushi stood for what was right, and wanted nothing but to achieve peace and harmony in whatever way they could, even if it meant risking their own lives to save others.
So yeah, that's it for my rants today. Thank you for reading, and if you have anything to add, go ahead! I'm open to discussions ;)
#bsd#bsd atsushi#bsd yosano#bungou stray dogs#bungo stray dogs#bsd characters#bsd analysis#literature analysis#bsd abilities#bsd anime#bsd manga#bungo stray dogs atsushi#bungou stray dogs atsushi#bungou stray dogs yosano#bsd dazai#bsd mori#bsd ranpo#character analysis#.daydreams
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