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cerezzzita · 2 years

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— aesthetic words to fill up your vocabulary ♡

✦ if you're tired of using the same repetitive words to describe feelings or actions on your writing, here are some aesthetic words that are not frequently used to help you evolve your vocabulary better and also maybe help you with creative titles <3

ABENDROT: the color of the sky while the sun is setting.

ABIENCE: the strong urge to avoid someone or something.

ACHROOUS: colourless.

AEQUOREAL: marine, oceanic.

AESTHETE: someone with deep sensitivity to the beauty of art or nature.

ALIFEROUS: having wings.

AMITY: warmth and heartfelt friendliness in a friendship; mutual understanding and a peaceful relationship.

AMORIST: someone who is in love; someone who writes about love.

AMBROSIAL: fragrant, delicious.

ANTHOMANIA: great love for flowers.

AQUAPHILE: someone who is an enthusiast of all things related to the water.

ARENOCOLOUS: living or burrowing in sand.

ASPERSE: change falsely or with malicious intent; attack the good name and reputation of someone.

ASTERISM: agroup of stars; a constellation; a cluster of stars.

ATTAR: essential oil or perfume obtained from flowers.

AUREATE: golden or gilded; brilliant, splendid.

AURICOMUS: with golden or yellow colored foliage.

AVIOTHIC: the strong desire to be up in the air or to fly.

BALTER: to dance artlessly, without particular grace and/or skill but usually with enjoyment.

BATHIC: pertaining to depths, especially of sea.

BELAMOUR: the one who is loved; a beloved person.

BELLICOSTIC: aggressive, belligerent, warlike.

BENEFICENCE: the quality of being kind or helpful or generous.

BERCEUSE: a quiet song intended to lull a child to sleep.

BLÁFAR: indicating the freshness and beauties of youth or health; attractive and possessing charm.

BRONTIDE: the low rumble of a distant thunder.

BURBLE: to speak in an excited manner.

CAELITIS: the divinities who dwell within the celestial planes.

CATHARSIS: the release of emotional tension, especially through kinds of art or music.

CELERITOUS: swift, speedy, fast.

CERAUNOPHILIA: loving thunder and lightning and finding them intensely beautiful.

CHEVELURE: the nebulous tail of a comet.

CINGULOMANIA: a strong desire to hold a person in your arms.

COCCINEOUS: bright red; scarlet.

COCKAIGNE: an imaginary land of luxury and idleness.

CONSTELLATE: to eluster; to compel by stellar influence.

COSMOGYRAL: whirling around the universe.

CORDOLIUM: heartache; heartfelt sorrow.

CORUSCATE: to reflect brillantly, to sparkle.

CRAMOISY: of a crimson color.

CREATURELY: a person who is controlled by others and is used to perform unpleasant or dishonest tasks for someone else.

CRYSTALLOMANIA: an obsession with crystals and other crystalline objects.

CHRYSALISM: the amnotic tranquility of being indoors during a thunderstorm.

CLINQUANT: glittering with gold and silver.

CLYSMIC: cleaning, washing.

CUPIDITY: greed for money or possessions.

CYANEOUS: a sky-blue color.

CYNOSURE: guiding star; a object of common interest.

DARKLING: of or related to darkness.

DÉCLASSÉ: having fallen in social status.

DEIFORM: god-like or divine in nature.

DEMERSAL: that lives near the bottom or a body of water.

DESIDERIUM: an ardent longing, as for something lost.

DISPITEOUS: cruel and without mercy.

DOUX: sweet, soft, mild, gentle.

DRACONTINE: belonging to a dragon.

DYSANIA: the state of finding it hard to get out of bed in the morning.

ECCEDENTESIAST: someone who fakes a smile.

EFFLORESCENCE: a period or state of blooming, blossoming.

ELEGY: a poem of serious reflection, typically a lament for the dead.

ELEUTHEROPHILIST: someone who advocates free love.

ELYSIAN: beautiful or creative, divinely inspired; peaceful and perfect.

EMACITY: desire or fondness for buying things.

EMPYREAL: pertaining to the sky; celestial.

EPHIALTES: a nightmare; the demon Incubus that supposedly causes a nightmare.

EPICARICACY: the joy that results from others misfortune.

EREMOPHOBIA: the deep fear of stillness, solitude, or deserted places.

ETHEREAL: extremely delicate, light, not of this world.

EUMOIRIETY: happiness due to state of innocence and purity.

FLORENTIS: abounding in flowers; being in bloom and adorned with plentiful flowers.

FREICEADAN: guard, garrison, watch, sentinal.

FULMINATE: cause to explode violently and with loud noise.

FURCIFEROUS: brat; rascally, scandalous.

GLOAMING: twilight, dusk.

GRAME: anger, wrath, scorn; sorrow, grief, misery.

HALCYON: calm and peaceful; happy, prosperous.

HELLION: a rowdy or mischievous person.

HELIOPHILIA: desire to stay in the sun; love of sunlight.

HEAVENIZE: to render like heaven or fit for heaven, to purify and make a holy place or a person.

HENOTIC: promoting harmony or peace.

HIRAETH: a homesickness for a home you can't return to, or that never was.

HOLILY: belonging to or derived from or associated with a divine power.

HYPNAGOGIC: the state immediately before falling asleep.

IGNICOLIST: a worshiper of fire.

ILLECEBROUS: attractive and alluring.

IMPLUVIOUS: soaked with rain.

INCANDESCENCE: light produced by high temperatures.

INCALESCENCE: the property of being warming.

INCENDIARY: designed for the purpose of causing a fire, likely to cause anger or violence.

INEFFABLE: too great or extreme to be expressed or described in words.

INSOUCIANT: free from worry, concern or anxiety.

IRENIC: aiming or aimed at peace, promoting peace.

IRIDESCENT: producing a display of rainbow-like colors.

INVIDIARE: to envy.

ISOLOPHILIA: a strong preference and affection for solitude.

KALOPSIA: the delusion of things being more beautiful than they really are.

KALON: beauty that is more than skin deep.

LACONIC: expressing much in a few words.

LACUNA: a blank space; a missing part.

LATIBULE: a hiding place, a place of safety and comfort.

LAMBENT: to glow or flicker softly. Luminous, light or brilliant.

LIMERENCE: the state of being infatuated with another person.

LONGANIMITY: still suffering while planning revenge.

LOUCHE: disreputable; morally dubious.

LUCELENCE: the state of being fine and beautiful; shining, brilliant.

LUCIFORM: resembling light in appearance; having, in some respects; the nature of qualities of light.

LUMINESCENCE: light produced by chemical, electrical or physiological means.

MALTALENT: the negative emotions of wanting injury or harm to befall someone; a hostile behavior or attitude towards someone considered an enemy.

MARMORIS: the shining surface of the ocean.

MAZARINE: a dark blue color; rich blue or reddish-blue color.

MELIORISM: the belief that the world gets better; the belief that humans can improve the world.

MÉLOMANIE: an excessive and abnormal love and deep attraction to music and melody.

MERCURIAL: subject to sudden or unpredictable changes.

MESMERIC: appealing; drawing attention.

MORDACIOUS: biting or given to biting; biting or sharp in manner; caustic; capable of wounding.

MORPHEAN: of or relating to Morpheus, to dreams, or to sleep.

MOXIE: courage, nerve, determination.

NEBULOCHAOTIC: a state of being hazy and confused.

NEFARIOUS: wicked, villainous, despicable.

NEMESISM: frustration, anger or aggression directed inward, toward oneself and one's way of living.

NERITIC: pertaining to shallow coastal waters.

NOETIC: of or associated with or requiring the use of mind.

NOIRCEUR: the state of being pitch black in color; a state of lacking illumination.

NUBIVAGANT: wandering in the air, moving through the air.

NUMINOUS: spiritual or supernatural; surpassing comprehension or understanding; mysterious.

ONEIRODYNIA: restless, disturbed sleep, characterized by nightmares and sleepwalking.

OPHIOMORMOUS: snake-like.

ORPHIC: mysterious and entrancing, beyond ordinary understanding.

PAVONINE: characteristic of a peacock; resembling the tail of a peacock; as in colors; iridescent.

PETRICHOR: the scent of rain on dry earth.

POIESIS: creation; creative power or ability.

PORPHYROUS: purple; of purple hue.

PLAXONDRY: the mix of introspective nostalgia, sadness, and calmness felt when listening vaporwave and its related genres.

PRATE: to talk excessively and pointlessly.

PROCELLOUS: tempestuous, stormy.

QUIDDITY: the essence of something.

QUIXOTIC: extravagantly chivalrous or romantic; visionary, impractical or impracticable.

RANTIPOLE: a wild, reckless young person; to be wild and reckless.

REDAMANCY: the act of loving the one who loves you; a love returned in full.

REDOLENT: having a strong distinctive fragrance; serving to bring to mind.

REMEANT: coming back, returning.

RESPLENDENT: having brilliant or glowing appearance; dazzling and impressive in appearance through being richly colorful or sumptuous.

REVERIE: a state of being pleasantly lost in one's thoughts; a daydream.

RODOMEL: juice of roses mixed with honey.

ROSEATE: rose-like; overly optimistic.

RUTILANT: glowing or glittering with red or gold light.

SANGUINEOUS: accompanied by bloodshed.

SASHAY: to strut or move about in an ostentatious or conspicuous manner.

SCIAMACHY: a battle against imaginary enemies; fighting your shadow.

SEQUACIOUS: lacking independence of originality of thought.

SERAPHIC: beautiful and pure; having a sweet nature befitting an angel or a cherub; of or relating to an angel of the first order.

SERENDIPITY: finding something good without looking for it.

SKINT: having little or no money avaliable.

SOLIVAGANT: someone who wanders or travels the world alone; a solitary adventurer.

SOMNIATE: to dream, to make sleepy.

SORTIGER: delivering prophecies of the future; having the qualities of being oracular.

STELLIFEROUS: having or abonding with stars.

STELLIFY: to transform from an earthly body into a celestial body; to place in the sky as such.

SUCCIDUOUS: ready to fall, falling.

SPUME: a white mass of bubbles or froth on the top of a wave.

SYNODIC: relating to or involving the conjunction of stars, planets or other celestial objects.

TARANTISM: the uncontrollable urge to dance.

TEMENOS: a sacred circle where no one can be oneself without fear.

THANATOPHOBIA: fear of death.

TYYNEYS: the state of peacefulness; absent of worry or fear, being composed and at ease.

ULTRAMARINE: beyond the sea; greenish-blue color.

VELLEITY: a wish or inclination not strong enough to lead to action.

VENERATION: a profound emotion inspired by a deity.

VESPERTINE: in or of the evening; setting at the same time as, or just after, the sun.

VERDANT: with plants and flowers in abundance.

VERMEIL: a liquid composition applied to a gilded surface to give luster to the gold.

VERTICORDIOUS: to turn the heart from evil.

VIOLESCENT: tending toward violet color.

VORFREUDE: the joyful anticipation that comes from imagining future pleasures.

WANDERLUST: a strong desire to travel and explore the world.

WHIST: to hush or silence; to still, to become still.

#writing prompts #writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #writing prompt list #writing help #writing tips #creative writing #aesthetic words #dictionary #synonyms list #writing list #writing study #writing on tumblr #aesthetic words list #synonyms #helpful writing

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kaszuma · 4 months

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Bad Habits | Hoshina Soshiro

Part 6 of “Certainly Yours”

pairing: Hoshina Soshiro x fem!reader

summary: Soshiro wanted to set things right by you, so he planned a date that would've gone perfectly. Had a Kaiju not appeared in front of you.

warnings: Mentions of Blood, heavy detail on Injury and Pain. Breathlessness and lots of claustrophobia related to crowds, Angst, Hurt/No Comfort, Slight Kn8 Manga Spoilers

wc: 6,552

–

note: Please inform me if I missed any warnings, It has descriptive injuries so I don't want to trigger anyone who's willing to read this.

Part 7 will be a direct continuation of this. So that's why I dubbed it as a Hurt/No Comfort fic for now. The comfort will come in another part because things have been going too smoothly in the relationship. And I don't want that. Anyways, look forward to the next part. I will be adding a tags list. So if you want to be tagged. Please tell me.

Also, thank you for a hundred followers 🫶

–

Today was the day Soshiro had decided to finally make it up to you.

After weeks of moving between bases. Handling Number 10’s strange quirks in its new prototype suit. It had been an understatement to say that he had kept himself rather busy in the wake of his occupation. His attention often divided between the lousy paperwork stacked against him, as well as his individual training.

One that he had always upheld to keep his body sturdy and his reflexes sharp. Not once acting careless in his response to a Kaiju attack. Especially now where he was equipped with a powerful and sentient combat suit, bloodthirsty for war. Willing to pick a fight with anything remotely breathing in his direction.

By all means, Soshiro could not afford to slack off. And if there was a miniscule chance that he did, he'd be minced alive for sure.

Just when his hard work had started to pay off too.

Now that he had been recognized as a numbers wielder no less. He'd be one of the few melee specialists that Japan could rely on in the case of an emergency. The proof of his existence. That he wasn't just a reject of the Hoshina Family's line of descendants.

That he was more than capable to wield a blade that could slay Kaijus that came after him. And he had succeeded. He had fulfilled his place in the hierarchy. His place solidified beside Captain Ashiro who was an even stronger ally than he was.

But despite his successes. Despite the satisfaction he got from climbing to the top with only the swing of his blade.

That had not been enough for him.

It had not been enough to prove his existence to the world.

And although that had been a major goal of his. To surpass people's expectations of his limits. His boon to keep fighting. To keep swinging his sword despite the odds stacked against him, had also been the downfall of many past relationships that could not blossom because it had gotten in its way.

And you had been the first to stay.

The first to understand his sentiments.The first to clear a path for him when everyone else had all but given up.

And yet here he was. Being a stellar lover and prioritizing everything else above you.

It had been weeks. Practically an entire month since he's spent some quality time with you. Sharing the occasional kiss in the hallways where you'd start your day off. Or acknowledging each other briefly when he had been stuck in the confines of the training rooms.

Beating the lessons right into rookies' bodies when you'd pass by. Or better yet, the daily coffee you had somehow managed to squeeze in despite your equally tight schedule. His favorite blend had always been waiting for him. Ready at his office on the days he burned the very wicks of the midnight oil.

And what had he done in return?

Nothing.

Not since that incident with Kaiju no. 10 at least. That of which he worked so hard to erase any evidence left in its wake. The fake report had at least been a piece of cake to do. And they had to do over the entire prototype testing just to make sure Number 10 was usable in its current state.

And unfortunately for him, it proved to be a much more difficult task to complete. Day by day he had not once made progress in raising the Suit’s combat power. Leaving Kaiju no 10 to mock his defenses and other battle related tactics whenever it could. But that had been the least of his worries.

In all honesty, he had been feeling guilty since that day.

Although he'd be remiss to say he didn't enjoy the feeling. Soshiro had not been in the right sound of mind when he found himself getting closer to you. Drunken by your scent, he had practically seen images flash by his mind. Courtesy by the Kaiju that had seen through his desires. And one thing led straight to the next. He found himself in a troublesome situation that he had been afraid to know the consequences of.

He had desired her. Yes. That much was clear. But he wanted the relationship to evolve slowly. At your pace. One that made you most comfortable.

But he had breached that space. The inch you had given him had turned into a mile. And he was lucky he still held some sort of restraint before he did something stupid and regretted his past actions.

And somehow, you still forgave him.

You enjoyed yourself even. Welcoming him with open arms for the next time around when they had managed to squeeze in the time between work. Open to the idea of a more sensual intimacy. In the privacy of someplace else. And Soshiro had wanted that too.

He wanted to correct his haste. To properly love you right.

But not everything had been picture perfect in the way he had planned. His bad habits showed in the ways he'd prioritize everything but you. And just when he built up his courage–Built up the resolve to face you. To do right by you.

Of course, things just had to get in his way.

Things always got in his way before he could properly apologize and make it up to you. Or atleast, that was the excuse he'd find himself feeling guilty of.

And that is where he found himself outside the premises of the Tachikawa base. Strangely out of uniform and in his civvies that he had managed to find beneath the sweatpants in his closet. Dappered in a simple black turtleneck and a white overcoat. Befitting of the cooler weather Japan had been facing in recent times.

He had been waiting for you to show up with a picnic basket in hand. A few paperback novels that he thinks you might enjoy. Added with a few sweets that he hoped would lighten up your day perhaps.

The plan had been simple.

He’d already done the nerve-wracking part. Stopping you midway as you finished giving him the stack of blueprints for the Combat Suit you had worked on upgrading. His hand reached to touch the soft skin of your knuckles. An action that made you look back at him in turn.

“Is something wrong?” You had asked curiously. The softness in your voice remained. One that made Soshiro want to melt into a puddle.

He smiled. Somehow the words got stuck on his tongue. And he had to remind himself that you were his lover. Who of course would agree to a date. Should he suggest it, Right?

He gulps. Suddenly feeling a little irritated at the way his stomach had dropped and a plethora of nervous butterflies had resurfaced.

Normally he'd have no problem taking out hordes of Yoju that came his way. Boasting the highest individual kill count for slaying midsized Kaiju of his generation. Yet somehow, his reason had gona askew. And he found this situation a little more terrifying than he anticipated.

“Hey, I was thinking..”

“Uh oh- That's not a good sign.” Your comment makes him smile. His eyes rolling to give your shoulder a playful squeeze.

“-That you and I need to have a talk.”

“About what?” You had replied with a tilt on your head.

“I got a few paperbacks in the mail yesterday. I was hoping we could grab a bite to eat while we read through ‘em?” He smiled. His usual grin did not falter in the way he spoke to you. Though you could tell that he had an inkling of nervousness by the way he reached up to scratch the side of his cheek.

“Oh. And here I thought I was in trouble.” You chuckle. “So you're finally inviting me out on a date, Vice Captain?”

He had moved to stand much closer to you. Hand already at the shape of your hip, habitually writing his name on the waistband of uniform. “Is that a no I hear from ya’”

“Now when did I say that?” And it makes you smile knowing he had been trying despite the busy schedule he had.

You had long since understood his place in the hierarchy. Soshiro may have not realized it, but he was far too important of a person in the Defense Force to have been kept away from duty.

His life alone had been the cost of a thousand who'd live due to his sacrifices. And whether or not his insecurities had blocked his view of his own self-worth. You were able to see it clearly.

So despite the difficulties. Despite the yearning you felt for his proximity You did the usual and prioritized his work. Letting him handle things when command had already put so much weight into his daily responsibilities. Not that he seemed affected by it, no doubt already used to the pressure of a hectic battlefield. Much less a hectic work environment.

But of course, you wouldn't reject an offer out on a date with your lover. Not when he so sweetly asked.

And if he had the occasional free time to invite you out. Who were you to say no to his offer?

“Soshiro!” You had called out. Appearing just beside him who stood nearest the entrance of the underground metro station. And he smiled turning towards you with his usual cheeky and cat-like grin.

“You shoulda’ texted me. I would've picked you up by the train stations.” He had moved his free hand to pinch your cheeks. And it makes you chuckle. Revealing yourself completely to him.

Where his eyes had raked over the surface of the cute outfit you decided to purchase the day before. Hand already twirling a strand of your hair before tucking it behind your ear. Admiring your very soul. Your entirety in front of him.

“And miss your startled face? Fat chance I'd miss that opportunity.” You laughed.

Soshiro had rolled his eyes in turn. His heart pounding as his free hand immediately intertwined with yours.

“If it makes ya’ happy Sweetheart.” He didn't waste this opportunity to gently pull you close. Kissing your temple which had been nearest his lips. “You look pretty.”

His compliments had made you brighten. Your face visibly beamed when his eyes drank your figure. “Damn straight. I wasn't about to let you one up me in the looks department.”

“Alright, alright.” He found himself chuckling. “Let's get moving before the desserts I bought ya’ go bad.”

You had half a mind to drag your feet while he took you out of the metro line. Acting stubborn just to stall and ruffle his feathers for a bit. As payback for neglecting you all those days ago.

But you had decided against it, the crowded train station was far too busy in the early hours of the afternoon. And you would not risk losing each other and wasting the rare day Soshiro had all planned out for the both of you to do.

“Lead the way.” You had smiled, giddy at the mere thought of a time well spent together. And Soshiro had shared that very sentiment. Already leading you away from the busy horde where lines of people had been waiting for the next train stop.

Upon your words, he had gently walked forward. Leading you by the hand.

His grip on you was firm and you can see the way his back had engulfed and weaved through the crowd much more easily than you ever had. Broad in his strides as he tried not to go too fast. Matching your pace since he knew you weren't as built in stamina as he was.

You had admired the little details of his nape. The one mole peaking through the skin of his turtleneck, where his hair had shown every detail of his jugular. One that you had marveled at when he wasn't looking.

Just as you were about to offer your help. Reaching for the sling of the basket on his free hand.

A shiver ran down your spine. The hand that had tried to reach for the basket had paused in heavy response.

And you had suddenly flinched as a loud gust of wind had blown past you. Making the indoor lights of the metro begin to pop and flicker abnormally. An eerie buzz emitting from each light source as if the electricity had all short circuited, simultaneously.

The temperature underground had strangely heightened. Unusual for the cool metro station during this time of day.

And the crowd that had busied themselves passing each other by, had all but stopped. With people's stares directed behind the both of you in a frozen and frightened state. You look around, almost confused. And Soshiro had gripped his hand harder against yours. As if he already knew the exact dread that overcame him.

The exact thing that had been staring right back at them.

And somehow you had that inkling too.

But denial had only been your first problem. And the rest of your body seemed to know the truth. Your very palms began sweating like bullets, and you had hesitantly looked behind you. To prove to yourself that it had not been what you think it was.

But Soshiro who had somehow read your mind. Had moved much quicker than you had.

Pulling you behind him, already pushing you to the exit when people had started panicking. Screams had been the accompaniment of hasty footsteps. With people of all different ages, running in the same direction. Away from the stairs leading down the metro line.

A mere glimpse is all it took for the hair on your skin to rise. And the face of a humanoid Kaiju had looked in your direction. Its skin peeled like oranges, unlike the gritty leathery texture that surrounded its cheeks. And although it had a terrifying grin on its face. It remained calm. Observant. It seemed ecstatic in the way it reveled in the attention it had gotten. Whilst Soshiro had pulled you from your trance.

“Run. Get going!”

Soshiro had strangely screamed. Already pushing you to evacuate, weary that the Kaiju could attack you at any given moment should it wish to. But the Kaiju had a strange way of showing its excitement. Gurgling at every noise it heard. And Soshiro's yell had all been reduced to a mere whisper against your ear. The sound of a panicked crowd was all too encompassing for you to actually make out his words.

Soshiro had kept a firm grip on your shoulders. Still trailing close behind you with his gaze fixated on the Humanoid Kaiju.

Its legs had hovered mere inches above the ground. Crinkled like an old vegetable that was left out in the freezer for too long. It had double the arms, one that resembled old branches with no leaves. And although it looked sickly and frail, he was sure the damn thing was capable of major damage given the right opportunity.

But instead of grabbing onto the nearest person like Soshiro had anticipated. It surveyed the area. Weary of its nearest surroundings.

It's molars and gums chattering against each other. Echoing throughout the underground halls of the metro station. It looked as if it was occupied with something. A far off look in its beady eyes. As if it were communicating with someone.

Perhaps it had something to do with Number 9? Shit.

If that's the case, Soshiro needed to get you out of here as soon as possible.

“I can't get through. They're all pushing..” You had gasped. Feeling yourself stumble back when another person pulled at your shoulder and leaped forward. Using you as leverage to get to the exit.

Soshiro, who had seen this, was quick to catch you before you could fall. Your back against his chest in a protective stance.

He couldn't move. Not yet at least.

More than anything he'd like to handle that thing as quickly as possible. But to leave you nearby in such close proximity too? There's no way in hell he was going to let that happen. So all he could do was fixate his eyes on that Kaiju.

This thing was clearly sentient. Soshiro had seen the way it lingered to read one of the signs nearest the exit. But I didn't seem interested in conversing, let alone leave if he had asked. And he wasn't about to take his chances.

He needed to get rid of that thing now.

“Hoshina here.” He had fished out the white earpiece that he hid on his overcoat's back pocket. Pressing the small item down to his ear to contact operations.

“There's a Daikaiju sighting in the Tachikawa-Kita Station. Requesting permission to use Number 10 to neutralize it.” He spoke seriously. Unlike the usual light hearted conversations you'd have with him. And it makes you stare up at him with raised eyebrows.

It had been weeks since you had worked on Number 10. It was still far too early to be used as a plausible weapon out in the field. And yet here he was, indirectly telling you that he had worn it out in public.

“You what?” You had gasped out. Eyes blown wide whilst his hand remained on the small of your back.

Much to your dismay, Soshiro had not answered you.

Simply moving you closer to the wall, to let other people get through. His hand still pressed against the intercoms whilst he waited for a reply from Operations.

Soshiro had been focused on shielding you for the most part. The crowd was pushing, but it seems they had still been making progress in evacuating the area. Save for a few rumbles that had happened when the Kaiju had suddenly implanted its branch-like fingers onto one of the pillars. Cracking the surface of the solid cement that held the pillar in place. And you couldn't help but worry at the close proximity you both had been.

Right in range of where the Kaiju was looking at.

“Permission granted.” Okonogi’s faint voice could be heard. Likely already booting up Number 10's system underneath Soshiro’s civvies. The bioweapon would slowly regain energy which kept it from its usual conscious state.

“Do you, or Do you not have Number 10 on?” You had asked incredulously. Prying his arms off of you to peel off his shirt. And his larger hand stops you before you could see the peak of red in the place of where his skin should be.

“As a precaution m'dear.” His reply was immediate.

And he suddenly grabbed you by the wrist. Ushering you forward along with the thinning crowd. The stairway had all been emptied now. Save for a few runaways that had tripped or were pushed earlier.

“Higher ups wanted me to get used to it. Releasing this thing’s combat power, I mean.” His voice had been an octave lower. His smile, although present, had not been enough to reassure you. And you had a feeling he was trying not to have you panic on him.

“That is stupid. Command shouldn't have let you wear it. Number 10 is still unstable. What if you go berserk and lose control?” You sighed, running your hand through your hair.

“You did try to argue with command right?”

…

“Right?”

Soshiro did not answer you. Already pacing to drag you out of here before things could escalate.

Meanwhile, you had all but looked at him once over. Now it made sense why he chose to wear an overcoat when the weather had only been a little chilly this afternoon. It had surprised you that he was able to hide its tail from emerging from his legs. But then again, he probably had his blades tucked away in that too.

“Soshiro..”

“Listen, I'll explain things later. Take this and get to the nearest shelter. I ain’t havin Number 10 going berserk. I'll be fine. Just let me handle the Kaiju first, okay-” His sentence was cut short by your scream.

A broken chunk of the large pillar had been thrown towards you. And it had startled you enough to drop the basket he handed you. Soshiro had been quick in his motion to shield you. Wrapping his arms around your shoulder to let his back hit the brunt of the pillar.

But before it could hit and crush the two of you to bits. The faint sound of number 10 chuckled inSoshiro's suit. And its weaponized tail lashed out to strike the pillar back. Destroying it before it could scratch you both from its debris.

The sharp end had all but ripped Soshiros overcoat to shreds. And he was quick to remove the unnecessary fabric on top of his combat suit. Revealing the distinct eye hollowed out in the middle of his chest.

“Lucky this bonehead woke up on time.” Soshiro had chuckled darkly. And it was followed by its immediate reply. Tail haphazardly swinging around from behind him.

“Stop with your meaningless trifles and get to fighting swordsman! My patience is thinning.” It sounded almost like a child. Though its voice had been a deep and rambunctious chatter like usual.

“You heard the darn thing.” He sighs, pushing you forward before another attack could come in.

And you shook your head, placing your firm hands against the suit of his chest. Just beside Number 10's glowing eye. Your gaze fixated on his usual smile, one that you had grown accustomed to hearing cheery laughs from. “Are you serious? This thing isn't ready for an actual fight.”

“Do not mock us Woman. By the time you have escaped our opponent would have been ripped to shreds by me.” It screamed.

Making you roll your eyes in turn. And Soshiro had all but chuckled. Already letting you get a head start as you stepped out of the underground Metro line. “Just go. I promise you I'll be jus’ fine.”

“I’ll come find you later.” He had spoken. Already turning his heel to grab the swords he had hidden on his back.

You knew this was his job. The unavoidable was bound to happen. And as much it pained you to leave him alone with a Daikaiju with only a misaligned prototype of a suit as an ally. There was bound to be trouble afoot. But what can you do other than run?

You weren't a fighter like he was.

Your use was only in the presence of a laboratory, as a technician. Paving the way to enhance his equipment. To heighten his chances of survival, even if it was a measly one percent of it.

That had been better than none after all.

So with a heavy heart. You nod. Glancing at his form for a second longer before you began running. Taking careful steps to the opposite direction where you knew the nearest shelter would be at. There was never a shortage of Defense Force Officers there. Maybe they'd be willing to let a few assist Soshiro before things could go awry.

Captain Ashiro had always made quick work of any Kaiju that appeared. The third had always been quick to respond to action. Not once arriving late when the Tokyo district needed them the most.

Soshiro would just have to hold out before then.

Deal with Number 10's strange habits and hopefully manage to unleash the suit's combat power which had proven to be a tricky feat for a while now. And if he were lucky, maybe he wouldn't need backup at all.

The optimistic side of you wished to see him make quick work of the Kaiju. Have him return to you, maybe with a couple or bruises to sport but nothing serious.

He'd smile at you. Holding peace signs with his fingertips out as a form of comfort. To tell you that he had been fine and the Kaiju had easily accepted defeat, ending the story in a clean neutralization.

You'd even be willing to hear Number 10's inflated boasting in the background. Telling you that they had sliced it to ribbons before you even had the chance to reach the shelter.

At least that's what you hoped to imagine.

Just as soon as you arrived at the familiar street. You passed by the multitude of shopping districts in the area. And you see the familiar crowd of people being ushered into the sturdy underground bunker of the shelter. Far away from the premises of the Metro Line where Soshiro’s battle had taken place.

You had immediately stepped up. Trying to fall in line with the rest of the crowded spaces that led up to the entrances of the bunker.

But somehow the temperature rose once more. And you feel the familiar rumble in your chest as a gust of wind had blown behind you. Your hair going in all sorts of directions before your eyes settled on the familiar looking Kaiju floating in the very back of the crowd. Nearing you inch by inch.

What was it doing here?

Everyone who had equally felt the same tension had been paralyzed from fear. Its beady gaze had been burning holes unto the crowd. And its neck cracked as it tried to tilt its head to the side.

This had been enough to get rid of the stupor on everyone's expressions. And another wave of panic ensued. Leaving you and a few others to be pushed around in the wake of everyone's panic.

“Report. Kaiju has been spotted here in Shelter 1121. Requesting permission to engage.”

You had heard one of the Defense Force Officers yell. The few that had been present were already aiming their firearms at the chattering Kaiju. It's head convulsing as it floated ever so closer towards the crowd. Its branch-like fingertips grazed the road. Eerily dragging its long limbs down the cement. Its pace is slow and tantalizing as if to tease your inevitable demise.

You had groaned.

Feeling yourself be pushed down to the ground. Palms hitting the coarse texture of the cement roads. Knees scraping the rough surface as you stopped yourself from falling face flat onto the floor. Luckily the crowd had been mindful enough not to trample you. With most of the citizens already crowding the entrance as Soldiers had blocked the Kaiju's path from going any further.

But you saw the way it moved.

In a blink of an eye the Kaiju had made quick work of the Officers. Sweeping them off like insects thrown to the side. Their bodies hitting the nearest surface available in the area. And you had tried to back away. The itching pain that had surrounded your knees was like putting salt on an open wound. Still fresh from the poor landing you had from earlier.

But there was no time to focus on that. Its beady gaze already staring at you and his next target had been made clear.

Just as you had tried to get up, you saw the way a car had been thrown right above your head. And you had been a hair away from being hit by the force of its pitch. Landing on a few people who had crowded up against the entrance of the base.

Likely crushing a few people in the process.

Shit.

The dizzy unease you felt had all but dazed your mind's eye. And somehow through the fire and the panicked screams. A force had thrown you off the ground.

And suddenly your body had slumped against the nearest wall. Your back landing on the very glass of a fashion boutique. Your weight had shattered its surface upon impact when you were thrown against it.

A shockwave on the ground had likely thrown you a few feet back. And you whimpered. Feeling the shards of glass puncture your shoulder and arms. A few cutting your legs that had shamelessly bleeded against the floor.

You could feel a much larger injury on the small of your back. But as it stands, you couldn't really focus on a specific area. Not when it had hurt all over.

It had hurt to stand up. Let alone to crawl away.

You were not in the safety of the base. And Soshiro had not been here beside you. Even if it hurts like hell. You knew that you had to move. You had to get away and find some help before the situation got worse.

But somehow, it had only gotten much more difficult to breathe. Your eyes which had blurred from the blood flow on your head had suddenly cleared a little bit. Just enough for you to inspect your surroundings. And you noticed it had gotten significantly darker upon your landing. Everything, even within the confines of the boutique, had been covered in a thin layer of smoke that you could've sworn wasn't here before

The scent had been weird. Both earthy and a little rusty for your liking. But it had a distinct bitter smell, like something had gone rotten in the area.

And suddenly your throat lurched. Coughing at the sheer difficulty your lungs had inhaled. Like suddenly oxygen had all but ran out and you were left with a gas that had been invading your system entirely.

Your hand had shakily reached up your throat. Trying not to panic as the breaths you made had gotten shorter and shorter.

Was this poison?

Did the Kaiju have anything to do with this?

Where was Soshiro? Was he dead?

Only panicked thoughts plagued your mind. Not entirely aware that the pain had made you almost delirious as you try not to cry from all the overwhelming sensations you felt.

Your only thought had been to gather your bearings and find Soshiro. Damned the injuries that weighed your body. Damned the poison gas that made you want to throw up your lungs.

All you needed was Soshiro.

Yet somehow, you find yourself back on the ground. With your cheek pressed up against the shattered glass. Eyes slowly fluttering to a close from the sheer exhaustion alone. And your body, had never accepted sleep more than this moment had.

–

Who knows how long you've been laying there. A few gunshots sounded out from the distance before it ultimately quieted down. A roar rumbled to the far east of where you had rested. But the sounds had gone silent a few minutes after.

And here you were, dizzy from a concussion. Bleeding from your arms and legs. And your breaths barely audible from the amount of toxic gas you had inhaled.

You didn't know whether or not your lungs were barely functioning anymore. But with the slow rise and labored falls of your chest, you were sure you had still been okay. Though it's a miracle you were still half awake.

You could still make the odd gasps and silent plea for help. So you couldn't sleep. Not yet at least. Not when help could so easily arrive and your chances of actually surviving would lower.

The smoke had not cleared up from where you had laid. And for a moment, you see the shadow of a figure step hastily through the broken boutique. Staring down at you with gritted teeth.

“Found you..”

Your breath hitched. Suddenly the blinding numbness had been replaced with a fresh bout of soreness and burning pains. And Soshiro, who had stood above your half-conscious body, had stumbled a bit.

Not used to the way your body stood so still. Arched upward from the shard of glass punctured nearest the back of your waist. His breath was stolen away, as he could only imagine how the pain must’ve felt when you were thrown off balance to crash a building no less.

“Shit, shit, shit, shit, c'mere.” Soshiro's familiar voice was much clearer now that he had stepped much closer to you.

The clang of his blades had dropped beside you as his hands were already fumbling to remove the straps of his respiratory mask. Rushing to place it atop your mouth and nose. Hoping it would help you breathe properly.

“Someone get the medic. Get the medic.”

Soshiro screamed. Glancing behind him for a moment before his focus had been fixated on you. His other hand gingerly lifting your head from the ground to assess the injuries you sustained.

And his eyes. The wine color of his eyes…

You could've sworn it had darkened. Brimmed with the fear of losing you. A cacophony of unshed tears that would usually be closed and cat-like in its features.

“..Soshiro?” You croaked out. Voice a little raspy from whatever gas that Kaiju had decked out. And your lover immediately pulled you closer. Rocking your body to keep you awake.

His first instinct was to secure the straps of the respiratory mask on your face. Letting you take a few filtered breaths before you try to speak once more. Though he hushed you right after, in the case you’d drain the little energy you had left in you.

And from the deadweight he felt. He somehow feared the worst.

“Hey, hey, Shhhh. You're okay.” He spoke with a shaky voice. As if he were assuring himself more than he did you. “I'm here now. We're gonna fix ya’ up brand new. I promise.”

His words had been loud. Desperate even. But for some reason, it went in and out of your ears. Not entirely sure if he had been screaming at somebody else, or he had been talking to you in particular. His reassurances got softer and softer from the minute your ears began to ring.

The sound of his voice, which you would normally find comfort in. Had your head spinning around. Making you wince in turn.

You had wanted to reach out. To pull him close and check for his own injuries. But your arms and shoulders would twitch in pain anytime you had tried to move a muscle. The poison in your system had made it all the more heavier for your body to move. Chained to the ground as if restrained by your own powerlessness of the situation.

“You're done?” You had managed to groan out. Wondering if the Kaiju had been neutralized.

And his immediate response was to nod in your direction. Pulling you much closer so that his leg would be able to support your weight on the ground. Away from the edged shards of glass that had scattered about.

“I'm okay baby. Yer’ the one that needs the help here..” He lets out a dry chuckle. Not entirely convinced that his jokes were actually landing. His panic was more evident in his tone than it had usually been, and for some reason. That hurt more than the physical wounds you endured.

“I know.” You hissed. “Hurts all over..if you couldn't tell..”

“Shit. Medics are on their way. I'm gonna lift you up okay? You'll be fine. Just gonna meet em’ halfway..” He had started. With Soshiro gently hooking his arms underneath the knees of your legs. And just as soon as you were an inch off of the ground. You winced.

Your teeth gritted together as you tried not to cry from the pain you felt when your body had raised from the ground. His hands, although they had been careful, were far too firm against the cuts on your body.

And the pain on your back, where the glass shard had punctured your organs, had a burning sensation you wished would go away.

Soshiro who had seen the way you panicked. Stopped in his actions. Putting you back down on the ground where his leg had cushioned your bleeding head.

“I know, I know jus’ bear with me, alright? Keep your pretty eyes open.” The string of curses never left Soshiro's lips. And his hand which had gently held the cheek where the respiratory mask met the skin of your pale face. Hoping that your breaths would get steadier. The mask recording all the slow inhales you'd take.

In and out. Labored but at least it was still there.

“Breathe..jus’ breathe for me, okay?”

Your eyes had tried to blink rapidly to remove the fatigue you had felt. But somehow, you were fighting a losing battle. And you couldn't help but give into the darkness. The fatigue would feel much nicer since you didn't have to worry about the pain. And with your lover here. It was okay to relax now. No longer did you need to have your guard up to combat the fight or flight situation.

And Soshiro found himself panicking even more at the way your eyes grew distant. Screaming at his intercoms for a medic on-field. Likely already on their way to the location he had sent to Operations moments prior. Okonogi in particular was trying to reassure the Vice Captain, but to no avail.

Not when his focus had all but fixated on your wellbeing. Eyes already closed as you drifted to an unconscious state.

His hand had reached down to your cheek. Already running circles against the bags of your eyes. Running across the dried tears that brimmed your eyes. Denying that this moment had a possibility to be your last.

And without hesitation, he started lifting you up again. This time not a peep from your mouth.

He was gonna fucking take you to the neareat hospital himself if he had to.

Like hell he was going to let you die. Right?

Right?

“Shit. This ain’t funny. Wake–Wake up!”

He hears Okonogi speak on the other side. Something about how a few officers had already turned the corner nearest their location. And he found himself running to their direction, your head leaning against his shoulder leaving small blood stains on Number 10's plated armor.

Help was close. But Soshiro's mind wasn't eased by that fact. Not at all relieved.

Not when your head had still been bleeding and a shard of glass as large as his hand had been punctured just below the small of your back.

And as he ran, he had wondered what he could've done to avoid this.

Should he not have asked you to go out today?

No.

You had been far too eager for this moment. It had been his fault for neglecting you. For not prioritizing the wave of affections you gave him in turn.

He had promised himself that he was gonna cherish you. Dedicate entire days just for you.

And yet here he was. With his plans, ruined beyond repair. And he finds himself going back to the root of his bad habits.

His work, his ambition to be seen as someone capable. Someone who existed in the hands of the world who did not see his strength and dedication. It had held him by the collar, forcing him to face elsewhere. Trapped him from doing right by you.

And now?

His bad habits had now suffered the consequences of his actions. No longer did he have the chance to do everything once over.

And his apologies had fallen to deaf ears. Hoping for the chance you'd get to hear him again.

He had a bad habit of doing you wrong. And now, he hopes you'd be awake so he can set things right.

#anime #kn8 #kaiju no. 8 #hoshina soshiro x reader #soshiro hoshina #soshiro hoshina x reader #hoshina soshiro #kaiju no 8 x reader #kn8 x reader #angst

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littlexdeaths · 1 month

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stage tech eddie munson x actress reader

warnings: modern!college au, lots of making out

y’all can blame this brain rot i’m currently having on a conversation i had with @rebelfell about techie eddie that ended up spawning all of this… thanks sarah for indulging me xx. 😘

also big kisses to @taintandviolent and @uglypastels for giving this a look over for me <3

“hey— sweetheart. you’re gonna miss your cue.”

eddie all but mumbles against your lips as you pull him in even closer, your bodies wedged between the heavy stage curtains.

“don’t care,” you reply almost breathlessly, allowing your lips to trail over his neck.

you are no longer interested in listening for the inevitable call of ‘veronica?’ to leave barb’s microphone. the music begins to swell just as you are supposed to rush out on stage to finish off the opening number.

while robin was initially supposed to help you with your quick change, when you rushed off stage you were surprised (and delighted) to find eddie in her place instead. the male gave you a cheeky grin as he had your blazer and skirt combo draped over his arm.

but the way his eyes continued to linger a little too long on your half naked figure once you slipped your costume up over your head— would only spell out trouble for both of you.

which was how you ended up half-dressed, blue blazer dangling off your shoulder and your lips smashed against his own. his hands tug you inevitably closer, rings digging into the meat of your hips while he effectively steals the air from your lungs.

your fingers grip tightly onto the cotton of his black t-shirt, feeling the heat radiating from his chest beneath the worn fabric. your lips eagerly drag across the thick skin of his throat, sucking harsh bruises onto the pale skin there.

this had been building for weeks— it had all started when eddie had offered to help you with your scene work. the male almost too eager to have you in his lap, grinding on him while you belted out the lyrics to dead girl walking.

but he’d had his eye on you from the moment you walked into that first rehearsal, all bright eyed and giddy. the more he saw you blossom under the glow of the stage lights, the more he wanted to call you his. little did he know that you felt the same way, despite your initial reservations.

the cast and crew should never mix— that’s what you were always told.

however your eyes would always seek out his lanky figure in the light booth during rehearsals. and you’d ‘accidentally’ leave your prop package of red vines out for him to steal, just to have an excuse to go up to booth to see him. only for him to hold them hostage above your head, dimples on full display as you fought to get them back.

but when you had to kiss your on stage JD— all you could think about how much better his lips would feel slotted against yours. and eddie can’t help but feel a sense of relief wash over him after you receive some feedback that the passion between you and jonathan was less than stellar.

but that low burning jealousy would rear it’s ugly head when you steadily began to improve.

wanton hands would paw at each other hungrily, those once dull kisses becoming increasingly more passionate with each rehearsal. and that blissful expression that flitted over your features while you gazed into the warmth of jonathan’s eyes has eddie crumbling the pages of his script beneath his fists.

but if this sudden improvement was because you were picturing eddie during your scenes together, no one was the wiser.

the mutual pining between you was palpable and downright maddening, to everyone involved in the production. so if some of them began to scheme a little behind the scenes to bring you two together, neither of you were aware of this recent development.

but everything finally come to a head with the culmination of what your cast mates so lovingly called, hell week. with the stress of opening night looming over your head, and the ever mounting tension between you two— it didn’t take much for your remaining resolve to crumble.

so when he gave you that look, all bets were off.

when eddie desperately tugs your mouth back to his, any worries that you shouldn’t be getting involved with one of your crew members is thrown out the window with each heated press of his lips. you can taste the lingering cigarette on his tongue and you’re engulfed in the musky, spicy scent that is so distinctly eddie when he reaches up to cup your cheek in his palm.

you are so wrapped up in each other that you don’t notice when the music stops abruptly and the burst of confused chatter erupts on the stage. eddie just pulls you in closer, eagerly swallowing the small whine that leaves your lips. the two of you only manage to pull apart when you hear nancy’s annoyed voice ringing out from behind the curtains.

“where the hell is veronica?”

you are a flurry of limbs and fabric as you struggle to pull on the rest of your costume, eddie’s rings accidentally getting caught in your hair during the process. he presses a soft kiss to your forehead in a silent apology before pushing you toward the bright lights of the stage.

you subtly wipe the gloss that was smeared across the corner of your mouth when you rush back out from behind the curtains. unaware that your blazer was buttoned incorrectly in your haste to finish dressing.

“sorry! costume malfunction! can we run it from the bridge?” you ask innocently.

nancy gives you a disapproving look from her stage manager’s seat, flipping the pages of her script back with a raised brow. you’re just thankful the director wasn’t here for this run through— or you’d have your ass chewed out for missing your big entrance.

“alright from the top of the bridge people, places!” she calls.

everyone utters a ‘thank you places’, while you duck back behind the curtain to get into position.

you can feel how flushed you are, adrenaline still pumping through your veins. whether that was from the way his lips were pressed against your own or the melting warmth of the stage lights, was hard to say. but you manage to catch his eye as he makes his way past you and the male can’t help but grin despite himself.

“don’t miss that cue again, sweet thing.” he teases, giving your ass a little pat before continuing on his way back towards the light booth.

#the freak writes 🫧#tells myself not to make this into another au 😂#eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x f!reader #eddie munson x female reader #modern!eddie munson #modern!eddie x reader #my series: our love is god 🫧

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ladythornofrivia · 4 months

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SING FOR ME (part one) | REVISED

dark!aemond x septa!tyrell!reader 🌹

summary: a once princess from a noble house took sworn oath for the Faith of the Seven blossomed into a septa with immaculate reputation due to her gift and preserving her virtue until the fate encounters with the one-eyed prince. (Also inspired by Phantom of the Opera).

warning: stalking, r*pe, unprotected sex, non-con, dubcon, dark aemond, manipulation, obsessive, kidnapping, aemond being delulu

a/n: I'm so sorry--I had to revise this. I didn't think it's good enough, so I had to make some changes, even the title--it feels off. Please forgive me.

Chapter One

The Pious Rose

The most beautiful rose was hidden away from the gardens.

The rose meant to blossom, not wither. She wasn’t meant to be tucked in the rest of her life. (Y/n) wasn’t meant to be tucked in the shadows. She belonged in the golden daylight, surrounded with flowers and her companions, her servitude in the Faith of the Seven, a lady with a driven purpose for the greater good to the Gods in the Sept. Her fate is supposed to be hers and hers alone.

Her dignity, her honor, her virtue and morals, one that inspires love and peace.

Within this darkness, how will the bask of sun shine her with comfort—living in suffocation. How will she live?

Rigid walls greeted her when her eyes were open. Where is she? Her stomach ached with a sharp jab. What has transpired for your fate to be trapped in a lonesome room with no sunlight, no candles, no sound and touch of breeze gliding through the windows? The windows were shut—no, you were confined.

Like the light, her hope has dimmed, and the shadows of her qualms and debate within her outlive. In this darkness, no one was present to succor her distress. The tattered clothing on your sleeves dampened from tears she shed.

No mother or father or sisters to guide her back home.

No servant or subject would come to her aid.

No guard to escort her out of the darkened room that has confined her to flee.

No sound of laughter, or talk amongst folks and lively music she had grown accustomed to.

The air is vacant. No one is to hear the voice but hers and the walls. And the door is locked. No way of escape.

The world felt so small and cramped, you weren’t sure if your life has been meaningful. Surely the Gods were testing you in this challenge.

The peace didn’t last when a heavy oak door boomed with long croak shattered the silence, flames pierced onto your sleepy eyes, until you met the eye of a certain shadow looming over her.

Several Months Ago….

It is said that the Gods had given grace to someone holy and pious. But you were the most holy and pious of all.

But it wasn't pious and holiest reputation.

With a gift you possessed, you managed to capture everyone's hearts, even the look of your beauty. But a song is what entranced every noble and ladies and children alike--at every occasion--namesdays, feasts and tourneys, and at every private and bond between families. Lords and ladies in every kingdom requested for you to commemorate on their special day.

Your song was a gift of light. A song in your voice is a gift of your heart and feast for the soul. A heart so pure and ethereal, that even men would swoon with tears.

You sang an eternal hymn, a hymn of love. A stellar performance like yours is not like any other--light and airy and amongst the heavens.

Since the days of wisdom, you are the most beautiful princess in all of Westeros, titled as ‘Golden Rose—the Rose In Winter and Sun’, ‘A Rose Never Wilted’—as you were born under a chilled winter under a golden sun, hence the given title. You’re the youngest of all Tyrell daughters.

Guests and family members of the court showered you with gifts, jewels, dresses and dolls that is twice as heavy and shiny with importance. Since when you were a child, you are cheery and bright; cheeks flush with health, as you grew older, your mind is constant with wit and daydream.

You have it all.

A gifted wit such as you shouldn’t be cast aside for a nobleman—whether handsome or hideous, young or old, sick or healthy—and to decay as a mother and a widow. And with your wit, you were also pious. Pious and cautious. For a young woman such as yourself, you’re wiser than others.

With every letter the suitors have sent have been casted into the hearth. Sometimes when suitors visited the kingdom, they would often asked of your presence, which you turned a blind eye.

Men.

Men are close to define as a unhinged beast.

Men are vile—filthy as if men are created from Seven Hells. Men are creatures that are made of fire and lust. Marriage is the death sentence to women as men being dutiful as killers and swordsmen at Night’s Watch, with their cocks gelded and their flesh smeared in sin. A woman’s body is as holy as the Sept, must be preserved and clean and mustn’t be driven with temporary hunger. The thought of your virtue being soiled by a man disgusts you, almost a phantom pain summoned between your legs, jab like a sharp knife. You shall never be clean again—overripe and tainted.

Undesirable, one which you can’t undo, with a child born in a mother’s belly was a monstrous and vile thing to give from an unmarried and unfaithful man—a beast hungered and scorched, burnt into the ashes of regret, unable to reverse the damage has been done. Frightened of a soiled reputation, as to avoid death, you must remain healthy with vigor.

You witness to all noble ladies, to whoever they consummate or shared pleasure with they’ve spent in secret upon a high nightfall, with their pleasurable sighs and moans, coming on their high, neglecting their noble duties, or how they gave a painful birth, you tend to avoid converse your peers and stayed inside, wandering in the gardens with flowers blooming just for you, as the canary birds chirped you’ve found yourself with reading or sewing or tending the birds in your pass time.

Most noble folks mistook you as shy, but in your heart, its grimace and resentment. At this rate, the noble ladies will likely to gain bastards than those with natural birthright.

No, it was never your destiny to tarnish.

You must remain pure.

With a life like yours, it’s perfect.

Almost.

House Tyrell has thrived since the dawn of time—the Age of Heroes and survived through fiery battles and clashing swords and broken oaths, traitor after traitor. Vows reformed and ruined by the likes of men’s lusty thoughts from their lusty cocks. House Tyrell went through all. How Tyrells became resilience is all thanks to lessons from experience—had been passed down generations to newcomers that breathed their first air.

Through beauty, through grace. Tyrells are clever and winsome and sly. Flower among flowers. But with flower with thorns are all the more dangerous.

It is said that your beauty is the fairest of all fairs. The day when you’re born, it is said you are bestowed by the Gods of Old and New. Since you were a child, all families brought together in peace. With you as a babe in a cradle, you are precious that when you were a child, you tend with animals and planted seed in the garden for flowers to blossom, for the grass become greener and brighter and clearer in the air. Sometimes you even sang hymns to the injured--animals, more particularly, to ease the frantic emotion that has been emulating.

But those are the days of past.

For years, you have not experienced duty, but all is thrive with a command with a snap of your fingers or whines in your voice to command. For someone young, courtship and marriage is not your intention. Your intentions are made clear to all with prying ears: you would never soil yourself to be bind by dutiful marriage and loveless vows.

But you, as of now, you are made to forge your own destiny. With beauty and grace, you remained to use cleverness for greater good. When you have been informed of the lords’ son wanted your hand, you declined his offer—an offer of negligence and ignorant bliss. That is when your mother resented you.

"Selfish," they all said.

"Cold and calculating," others concluded.

"A conceited bitch," the other men--who have once looked at you with admiration, muttered in between gossip.

Like flowers, beauty and life of love never lasts.

"She mustn't do this," your mother objected. "A young girl like her doesn't know what she wants. She preserve her status as a princess until she gives birth to children and cherish--remain loyal to her husband. That is her future accomplishment. Her reputation amongst men will be tarnish for eternity if she does this. Some men are turning away from her. There's still a chance to remedy this! We must remedy, we must!"

"We have other daughters, my love," your father said with a tender smile. "They have potential to be married off to the suitors. All of our daughters are kind and diligent."

"But all are not as pretty and useful at their talents as she," your mother remarked, as the father's smile died. "She can't be spending her days in the Sept for the rest of her life. I have confiscated all of the books, locked them away so she wouldn't suggest or spark an idea. A woman's mind is as clear as a man's mind. One must give as a future mother and wife. What good are the other daughters for, if they cannot be as achievable as she?"

"This is the fate I choose," you reasoned your father, in determinable rage. "I must do this."

And so, you cast aside the crown, the future prospects of awaiting suitors, who constantly want your hand in marriage of great alliances, and transformed as a septa. Like your mother, few other members of the Tyrell family objected, but your father had the last say and committed to a subjugation of your apply for a challenging task. Although your father and older sisters and brothers shared their support, your mother's intentions are quite clear as it did everyone else's.

As the matter has settled, your mother stopped you midway. "You will regret, for that there are many dangers beyond the threshold. You shall die alone, and no one to love you. The knowledge in books meant nothing to a woman. Books will only give you delusions of idea and that inspires no love but the selfish dreams that you're meant to fail," she hissed.

She's no rose, but a serpent that leeches the flesh.

"I always knew that you're an insipid witch who inspires no love but resentment, as of others. I must remain clean and pious, ever virtuous and benign. I hope you remain bitter and ugly, so that you die alone in your bed, no one to love you. You have killed the love from my father and my siblings, for I want no part with the likes of you," you told her, and barged out at the doors.

Perhaps your thorns are sharper than theirs.

And so, the raven sent a word from the capital, and by dawn—days later—your status is disposed and born anew as Septa (Y/N), and said your farewells and head off, afar from Highgarden with a single tear dropped on your face, as you recalled your grandmother’s words.

Growing strong.

"Farewell, my family, my home, my life, my garden, my comfort..." is all you uttered.

~*~

In King’s Landing, the capital since the dawn of time—has reconstructed and instructed under Aegon I, the most well-known infamous dragonlord that one day overshadow Westeros with a dragon and fury, as well as Visenya with her stubborn grit, and Rhaenys with her peace and wit. Once upon a time, King’s Landing used to be called Aegon’s Fort, but before Aegon’s Fort, it simply used to be a giant forest. Until all three of the dragonlords’ combination of their superb qualities and giant beasts, they’re unstoppable. Therefore, it’d be wise to bow down and surrender, if not, you’d be burn with dragon flame.

Rumor has it when living in King’s Landing, you can afford all the things and wealth and status you desire, even for being a prostitute in one of the inns at Street of Silk, but you intended to avoid filthy things altogether.

Other whispers you’ve heard is the Green Queen, Alicent Hightower, often visited in the Sept. Queen Alicent shed her blood through heretics on praying to her gods for salvation, whatever it may be, prayers to Gods are as sacred as a woman’s maidenhead. Somehow you felt it was out of duty to remain clean, or rebuke the filth to remain clean.

Since the days you have resided in a newfound residence within a glorified kingdom, you immersed your time on tending the orphans and the sick, you tend to your prayers and studies, sometimes tutoring the commoners and bastards and nobles alike—sunrise until sunset. Sometimes the children liked it when you sang them to keep them distract in daytime, or when you sang to them in sleep, for they have no parents to guide them in the land of sin.

In your private quarters, you summoned the belongings you treasured in your luggage—several books, a ring and a doll. There are times where you have missed your family dearly in your heart. Dresses exchanged with robes, your shining hair draped and tucked by veil.

Every once in a while, in your sleep, when an overwhelmed perception intruded in your blank state of mind, you pressed the porcelain glass doll in between your breasts, stroking it’s stringed hair and embraced it tightly.

Somehow, you felt the doll is alive each time you spoke to it, sometimes sang, pretending to be as your family member. You are alone in the capital, but you will outlive the loneliness. But that feeling of loneliness spread, tears dropped, your heart hitched and clenched as if someone’s fingers pressured onto the bleeding organ in your chest after ripping your ribcage open.

"Please stay close to me, stay close to me, my beloved, for the garden has grown cold without you," as you sang to the doll.

Each time your heart beats, the bell tolled in your ears and head on a slumbering nocturnal hour. In an otherworldly place, on the vast side afar from your former homeland, the bells reminded that King’s Landing is your new home.

Every now and then, you sent letters to your family. Every letter they sent gave you a sense of pride and joy--mostly your father, but only to be address as "Your Lord" instead of "Your Father". And every letter, there was a trinket of love that your father shared. And each time you lay on your bedside, you read their letters repeatedly until you lulled to slumber.

But as of late, you gained no response from them. For whatever reason, you kept on writing letters to them.

To think of a good and peaceful life, think of prosperity and glory to your prayers, guidance to a fulfilled wisdom and grace and flourish as the purest soul to fly within Seven Heavens above is the only way after passing on from a life of blood and lust and wretched souls that are beyond saving.

Days had been busied, and days had been hectic and tedious. Shutting your eyes in prayer in front of a grand statue, mouthing prayers in your mouth that you knew by heart. Each time you utter another thought, tears threatened to spill once more.

But you hardened your consciousness and pressed on.

~*~

One day, when dismissed from duties, you ought to find time a seclusion away from books and scriptures—lessons you have dealt with rambunctious children and spiteful elderly on the other side of city. You attended there, tending needs and care for animals, as well. Tending to endless hours seems forever, no way of escape for isolation.

But alas, you found solace under a spare time on a new night--and you have done this several times in several night previously. The area is empty but the walls adorned in fresh red roses and outgrown vines, reminded you of your garden. It was perfect. Surrounded in a garden, light of moonlight pooled behind the tree. On a marbled bench you sat, you resumed with your stitching of a canary, and sang a song from a book you've last read.

The birds chirped alongside yours, as it remain peace, but melancholy. But with the company of feathered friends, you remain your heart steady and true. You have chosen this life.

But as of late, you grew self-conscious, wondering if anyone was spying on you, in case you didn't do your duty to serve the Gods. Therefore, the passing hour has grown dark and departed from a secluded area.

~*~

The underground tunnels of King's Landing was all but darkness. But with a torch placed upon the walls stirred a bit ease to your liking. You ought to company other sisters back to the main ground.

As of now, you didn't like walking alone, as your thoughts remained at the last converse with your mother.

"You will regret, for that there are many dangers beyond the threshold. You shall die alone, and no one to love you. The knowledge in books meant nothing to a woman. Books will only give you delusions of idea and that inspires no love but the selfish dreams that you're meant to fail."

Immediately snapping out of your dreary thoughts, you marched onward with a sewing fabric clutched to your chest. Tunnels rumbled and echoed from your footsteps, as you saw a glimpse of small light above you.

You were almost there.

The air in your breath held in as you felt a large hand grasp your mouth and waist, dragging you back in the dark part of the tunnel. Struggle you as fought your way out, your needlework dropped, dragging and trapping you, wedged between the rustic bars. Biting off his fingers, you scurried off, but caught in between his hands again. You bit again and again until he yanked the veil back, released a sharp wail as the scalp on your golden brown hair has tugged in brute force.

As you attempted to turn around, but a lithe and large retaliated by you turning back around. Behind you, the shadow of someone's trousers dropped, and bent you forward. With large hands gripped tight on your waist, felt a hot tip, his hips grinding you, and plunged it all the way in, blood trailing down on your legs.

You cried aloud as the cock jabbing in your slick cunt.

No, no--not my virtue. Anything but my virtue.

A man groaned in satisfaction as he plunged into you, positioned your wrists behind you, hearing the wet splat as his hips snapped harshly to your entrance.

"Please...no..." you begged, cried.

But the man ignored you, a guttural moan pressed onto your ear, a man’s breath panted.

As he reached his high, hot semen spilled, leaving you breathless and beaten. Bruises on your skin swollen with numbness and your hair--the veil undone, your tucked hair loosened with tangle. Leaning forward with your shaken hands support from fall, you didn't spare a moment to shed your tears, as your final thoughts head straight to the culprit. Your eyes dazed in confusion and hurt. Why would someone hurt the person who was trying to heal the weak, and to preserve a restoring peace?

In your last moments of awake, your eyes glimpsed of a shadow strutting down at your direction, and passed out before a chance for you glimpse and run away.

Heavy footsteps caved in.

And the breath withhold loosened as a pair of hands reached you.

Like every flower, they wither.

~*~

In the next hour, you woke up, surrounded by darkness on cold bedside. You trudged at the door, finding out it was locked. Your fists banged against the door, screaming, "LET ME OUT! LET ME OUT!"

Each time you screamed, your tears formed and stuck between your lashes. The tight, cold air caved into your chest, breathing harshly as your hands reached its exhaustion.

Then a pain between your legs had swollen each time you stride vastly back and forth, unsure to grasp the circumstances. It was then you realized one conclusion. Therefore, you tried to find another path, but how could you when you don't know its secrets to where you're standing now? Everything is dark and you're buried with stoned walls, nowhere to run to, or to hide or to tell someone to help you escape and flee from a wretched prison.

Leaning upon the wall, relying on a dimmest light of candle flame, you rested as your back slid downward, pressed against the wall, cuddled your knees to your chest and wept.

Weeping went on, but your hope wasn't lost.

But months went by, as the consciousness in your heart was trying to cooperate, to survive at least for tomorrow and the upcoming of days. You've been fed and clothed and sheltered. But it's not to your content; you yearned for more. There are times where you have sang to yourself, but still ended in tears with no one to hear but your own.

Oh the Gods have been cruel, but the god in your heart sets alight of hope for freedom, finding its way, but you must find a way within a perfect time.

Until one day, in your confined chambers, the dark room lit up until you faced the tall shadow casted before you with a sapphire glinted under the heavy cloak.

A shiver ran down on your neck, knowing who it was.

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mechaknight-98 · 5 months

Text

Perfect Night (NSFW) FT Sakura Miyawaki

Author's note: World Tour announcement when? In all seriousness where has this Sakura Miyawki been and how do I get more of her? She killed it and me a little bit

After their fiery performance, the fimmies arrived back in their hotel. Not long after arriving Yunjen called Porter, Chaewon called Aaron and Sakura texted Daigo. Luckily for them, they were all on the same ride together. When they received messages from their significant others. Kura’s message was especially hot to Daigo,

“Did you like the performance,” Kura asked in the text but along with that was a picture of her in a more than flattering situation. She hoped that Daigo would be feral for her when she got there. What she didn't know was he already was.

Daigo was barely keeping his composure as images of what he would do to Kura swam through his mind during her entire Coachella performance. He had never seen her so at ease, so powerful, so sexy, so comfortable on stage before…well as long as he knew her. She may have wanted to kiss everybody, but he wanted to kiss her everywhere. To stay composed he stayed eerily silent to Porter and Aaron, which they noticed. they figured he was in contemplation gearing up for this night…he was just not in the ways they were thinking. The trio arrives at the hotel and takes the elevator up. Daigo carried the cooler his silence persisted which began to worry his friends until right before the trio entered.

"Oh unnies it's just the boys," Eunchae said as she opened the door. The trio walked in and sat next to their respective fimmy. Daigo leaned back and crossed his arms. as he sat next to Kura after placing the cooler by the front door. Kkura looked at him trying to get a read on him but he was stone-faced. He was barely containing himself near her.

"So what did you guys think," Yunjin asked courageously, "Did we do fantastic or what?"

"Oh you all did stellar," Aaron said first before he squeezed Chaewon tightly. Chaewon did her signature nose scrunch and smiled at her boyfriend. Connor was quick to jump and affirm Connor's statement. All that was left was Daigo who was sitting next to Kkura he looked at her and raised an eyebrow.

"I am mad. you let your company have you sing in all these high registers, and try to make y'all look bad on awards shows and live performances, but you come to my home, and not only do you guys sound amazing. You put on probably one of the best live performances I have ever seen. So I am heated because y'all have been holding out on me, and you (He's pointing to Sakura) when did you become so sexy Mrs "Cute Little Voice Idol"? you owned that stage. (to the rest of the fimmies) I mean you all did, but you (Back to Sakura) for all the times you talked to me about not wanting the spotlight and wanting to fade away you very clearly blossomed today." Daigo said. Sakura looked at him surprised. As he spoke. she waited for him to say something mean, but when she processed what he said she realized that every word was genuine and he was impressed and enamored with her.

"You liked it," Sakura asked worried.

"Like it? I loved it," Daigo said in a pitch that Sakura heard very rarely from him. "I got to see my bre... my best girl shows the world why she is a borne idol after years of being verbally abused and criticized. Sakura blushed at Daigo's response, his tone was reminiscent of their more private activities and began to arouse her mirroring what she did to him earlier in the night. she also chuckled at his almost slip-up. He was ready for her and she just needed to pull the trigger.

"Oh, I am so glad. You liked it. When you walked in and were silent I was worried you hated it and were mad at us," Yunjin said relieved

"I did, and I am mad. You guys have been holding out. It isn't y'all fault because you are bound by K-pop's rules but tonight was bullshit. Y'all did great and I know it's not going to be an every-performance thing," Daigo lamented. which caused Chaewon, Eunchae, and Kazuha to laugh

"Why don't you think so," Sakura said in a tone similar to their more intimate activities.

"Because the K-pop system demands conformity, and the show you put on tonight was not "K-pop" but to me, you all have never been a K-pop group," Daigo explains. Yunjin clapped for Daigo as someone finally saw Le Sserafim as she saw it. Le Sserafim was a Korean group but not a Korean Pop girl group. Daigo not understanding took it in stride, Sakura on the other hand felt her possessive Lioness rise inside her and grabbed Daigo violently to sit him back down. Jen noticed this and decided to finally press the issue.

"Kkura unnie. when are you finally going to wife Daigo up? He loves you more than anything," Daigo and Kura reeled at Yunjin's blunt statement while Porter, Aaron, and the rest of the Fimmies laughed in joy. Kura's eyes narrowed and dragged Daigo with her to her room.

"Wait Kkura," Daigo said before reaching into the cooler and picking out some sandwiches and Angma Soju he got for the of Age fimmies. Sakura smiled when he followed her. Sakura opened the door and when she secured her "prey" she closed the door and locked it. Daigo set the Alcohol down and chose to sit on the bed as he gazed at Kkura. She was trying to hide her hungered gazes towards him.

“You aren't actually mad at me right,” Sakura asked. Her eyes were soft and kind the fire of a few moments ago a distant memory.

Seeing Kura’s current affection softened Daigo’s impassioned heart. Feeling his bravery and passion dissipate from him Daigo turned timid once more. “I could never be mad at you. Just a little miffed because of how you let people talk to you that way,”

Sakura relented and then asked a question that had been plaguing her. “Why do you like me so much,”

Daigo saw the weariness in Sakura’s eyes. It pained him. So he told her the truth.

“Well, my crush started because we were similar in age and experience. You've had tremendous pressure on you since you were like what 12? I related to that. (not to the sheer scale but you get the idea) so anytime I'd hear you talk about the situations you found yourself in and just found myself endeared to you,” Daigo explained plainly and Kura gave him a sweet smile. Seeing her so happy Daigo replied with a question of his own.

“Can you explain the ninja comment?”

Sakura burst into laughter and knowing her friend she decided a display would explain. She did 6 hand signs then several duplicates of her appeared in front of a startled Daigo.

“Oh okay,” Daigo said as he processed what was going on.

“Wait you're not freaking out,” Sakura replied

“Well, this you being a ninja magic girl isn't the weirdest thing in my life. Plus if you comfortable revealing this to me. I need to be mature enough to see it,” Daigo explained casually. Sakura laughed at the calm and collected Daigo she knew.

“Now if you are going to tell me I have to fight in some ninja battle royal tournament thing to date you that would be something I'd freak out over but for different reasons,”

Sakura laughed until she noticed Daigo’s serious expression, “why,” she asked

Daigo sighed before he explained, “I am a pacifist.” Kkura smiled

“Oh I like it, but why,” she asked

“I have issues with self-control especially when it comes to anger, violence, and moderation. So I avoid it at every cost,” Sakura laughed and countered by saying,

“Yet you play violent video games?” Daigo laughed before replying realizing he had been caught

“Well, I still get angry and have hostility burn within me. so I need a space to put that so I don't snap and become a serial killer,” Sakura heard that and smiled before laughing harder.

“You are so dramatic,” she teased. Daigo smiled as usual Sakura knew the exact words and tone to put him at ease with her.

Kkura dismissed her multitude of clones as she sat next to Daigo. She put her hand on top of his and felt a proud feeling of ownership. She knew Daigo was hers and that gave her more confidence than she realized. In his support she found strength. She leaned into him and the two fell asleep exhausted.

The next day Daigo woke up to a Sakura chatting with a male voice. At first, he was on alert until he heard the Kkura was fine.

“Sakura you can't keep this fling with Daigo up,” the male voice said

“It's not a fling I truly like him and he feels the same,”

“But if what you've told me is true he's not ready to deal with your life as a star or as the heir of the Miyawaki clan. You don't want him getting hurt do you,”

“I’ll protect him,” Sakura said as a hint of possessiveness crept into her voice. Daigo was her stud and she'd be damned if she was going to lose him.

“Don't let your lust or your feelings cloud your judgment. He's not the one. He's just some guy you played games with,” the man’s voice says aggressively.

“Yeah and do you know what he did for me? He's always been encouraging and helpful to me. He has always supported me listened to all of my songs and believed in me even when I couldn't. I'm not getting that anywhere else so no I'm not leaving him,” Sakura asserted.

“And what makes him so special huh? He's a coward who needs you to prop him up. He's a leech. He's going to suck you dry because he's attracted to the glitz and the glam and when it's gone he will leave,” the young man said. Something about leaving Kura rubbed Daigo the wrong way.

Daigo listened and he felt a feeling he hadn't felt In a while. A cold rage possessed him as he tried to stay in control. It was a palpable emotion as Sakura and Tobi (the guy she was arguing with felt the room’s temperature drop 4 degrees.” Sakura shivered as did Tobi. Daigo meanwhile got up undeterred and Tobi saw Daigo for the first time and his eyes went wide. See Daigo wasn't typically menacing in his presence but at that time Tobi saw Daigo not as Kura’s goofy fling but as something else. It frightened him. So he performed the better part of valor and ran away from this confrontation. Sakura turned around and was happy to see Daigo. As he got closer to her she felt his warmth as the room went back to its normal temperature.

“Hey Stud how are you,” Sakura asked in her deep sexy tone. She smiled as she watched Daigo grow hard under her gaze and voice. “Oh someone's excited,” she said with a bigger smile. Daigo approaches her and closes the door. Sakura smiles and kisses him deeply. Daigo can feel Sakura’s desire and is almost ready to succumb to it but he needs to make sure everything is alright.

“Hey Kkura what was all that about,” he asks trying to maintain his composure. Sakura feeling more aroused with each passing moment can't wait as she pulls down her pants revealing her bare pussy.

“It's nothing stud, but I need your help,” she says as she guides Daigo down she nudges his face to her core and whimpers when she feels his breath against her skin. Daigo gives in to her and dives into her pussy. Sakura moans lewdly as Daigo takes his first long and slow lick. The next lick is more intentional a long figure 8 around Kkura’s clit. Daigo has never done this before, so the actions send a jolt through her body. Kura looks down to see an extremely pussy drunk Daigo. She moans as Daigo breathes in her arousal and his mind goes blank. His only thoughts are of pleasing and breeding his preferred mate. He does another lick around her clit before going lower to Kkura’s leaking pussy. He laps up her juice and savors her taste. It's sweet like cake frosting almost. Sakura shudders at Daigo’s ministrations. Sakura smiles watching her stud lose himself. As he dives deeper into her sex she mewls at his enthusiasm until it becomes too much for her and she explodes all over Daigo’s face. Sakura’s high is abruptly interrupted by a knock on the door. She whines as she tries to sober her pussy drunk stud.

“We have time,” Daigo insists, and as much as Sakura wants to let him continue. She needs him to stop.

“No stud it's probably the girls and you know I still have responsibilities, we all can't take a week off,” Sakura chided

“Well excuse me for wanting to give you my undivided attention,” Daigo teased Sakura laughed Before having him go start a shower,

“Oh am I your servant now,” Daigo replied.

“No, but I figured you'd a little bit more time with me,” Sakura pouted as she replied. Daigo smile.

“You should have led with that,” he said and Sakura laughed Before brushing him off.

Sakura gets ready and opens the doors it's the rest of the Fimmies.

“We have 15 minutes until we need to go do schedules,” Chaewon said.

“Okay,” Sakura replied trying to hold in her frustration.

“Hey, where's Daigo oppa?” Eunchae asks

“He is getting the shower ready for me before we go,” Sakura replied. Jen having her a knowing look which Sakura glared at. The girls left her alone after that. Sakura groaned. She wanted to do nothing but quilt play games and fuck her stud’s brain out an make him a dumb little fucktoy for her today, but alas she had responsibilities. She walks into the shower and strips to an excited Daigo.

“Sorry stud we have to be quick so let's get clean and you gotta go okay?” Daigo was bummed but understood.

So the duo shared a quick and chaste shower before leaving. Daigo gave Sakura an innocent peck on the cheek before saying, “don't go kissing everybody,” he teased. Sakura smiled and said

“I won't babe.” she kissed him back and said “tonight I am going to drain those balls.” Daigo laughed as he opened the door for her.

When they got to the lobby the other fimmies, Aaron and Porter were waiting for them. The boys bid them farewell and watched as they left. Daigo excused himself to go to the bathroom.

As he was finishing up a young man approached him. He eyed the young man suspiciously (he was suspicious of everyone) as he was making a move to leave 4 other similarly dressed men surrounded him. Daigo got in a fighting ready stance before he felt a hard presence on his neck before everything went black.

“Target secured,” the young man said

#kpop fanfic #fanfic #miyawaki sakura #lesserafim smut #sakura smut #izone sakura

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geotjwrs · 4 months

Note

Hey do you think u can do Jenna Ortega x male reader. The reader is a professional soccer player for AC Milan

goal!

Pairings ; Jenna Ortega x Male!Reader

Warning/s ; injury??

Y/N was living the dream as a professional soccer player for AC Milan. His days were filled with intense training sessions, thrilling matches, and the camaraderie of his teammates. But amidst the glitz and the grind, Y/N had a secret that kept his life balanced and his heart content – his relationship with Jenna Ortega.

Their romance had blossomed quietly, away from the prying eyes of the public. They cherished their stolen moments, the late-night calls, and the occasional secret rendezvous whenever their schedules allowed. Despite their different worlds, they made it work, keeping their love under wraps.

One sunny afternoon, Jenna managed to sneak into Milan unnoticed, her excitement bubbling beneath the surface. Today was special – she was going to watch Y/N play live for the first time. Disguised in a hoodie and sunglasses, she found her seat in the stands, trying to blend in with the crowd.

As the game began, Jenna couldn't help but cheer for Y/N, her heart swelling with pride every time he touched the ball. She captured videos on her phone, whispering words of encouragement that he couldn't hear but she hoped he could feel. It was thrilling to see him in his element, commanding the field with skill and confidence.

But not everyone in the stands was oblivious to Jenna's presence. Some fans began to murmur, their curiosity piqued by the young woman who seemed particularly invested in Y/N's performance. Whispers spread, and soon enough, Jenna found herself under discreet scrutiny.

Y/N, focused on the game, was unaware of the stir Jenna's presence was causing. He was having a stellar match until an opposing player, known for his rough play, started targeting him. During a heated moment, the rival player approached Y/N with a sneer.

"Hey, Y/N," he taunted, his voice low and mocking. "Your girlfriend's watching. Would be a shame if something happened to you."

Y/N's eyes flicked to the stands, briefly catching sight of Jenna. Panic and anger flared within him, but before he could react, the opponent made his move. A hard, deliberate tackle sent Y/N crashing to the ground, pain shooting through his leg.

The stadium erupted into a mix of cheers and gasps. Jenna's heart plummeted as she watched Y/N writhe in agony. The medical team rushed to his side, assessing the injury and signaling for a stretcher. Jenna's first instinct was to run to him, but she knew she had to stay put, keeping their secret intact.

Back in the locker room, the atmosphere was tense. Y/N was being examined by the team doctors, his face contorted in pain. His teammates hovered nearby, concern etched on their faces.

One of his closest friends on the team, Luka, knelt beside him. "Hey, man, hang in there. We'll get you through this."

Y/N nodded, trying to stay strong. "Thanks, Luka."

Meanwhile, Jenna paced anxiously outside the stadium, her heart aching for Y/N. She wanted nothing more than to be by his side, but she knew she had to wait for the right moment.

She sent him a quick text instead: "I'm here for you. Stay strong. I love you."

Hours later, Y/N was back at his apartment, his leg bandaged and elevated. The injury wasn't as severe as it had initially seemed, but it was enough to sideline him for a while. He was frustrated and in pain, both physically and emotionally.

A soft knock on his door broke his thoughts. Jenna peeked in, her eyes filled with worry and love. "Hey, superstar. How are you holding up?"

Y/N's face softened at the sight of her. "Jenna, you're here. I'm... managing."

She crossed the room and sat beside him, taking his hand in hers. "I'm so sorry, Y/N. I wish I could've done something."

He squeezed her hand gently. "You being here is enough. I just hate that we have to keep this a secret."

Jenna leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to his forehead. "We'll find a way to make it work. I promise."

They spent the evening together, Jenna doing her best to lift Y/N's spirits. They talked about everything and nothing, the comfort of each other's presence a balm to their souls. Despite the pain and the secrecy, their love felt stronger than ever.

Days turned into weeks, and Y/N's recovery was slow but steady. Jenna stayed by his side as much as she could, supporting him through the tough moments. Their relationship remained a secret, but the bond between them deepened with each passing day.

...

The next game was a pivotal moment. Y/N was back on the field, and this time, Jenna was determined to be there for him, publicly. She donned an AC Milan jersey with his number on it and made her way to the VIP section, a spot that would inevitably draw attention.

As the game progressed, Jenna cheered for Y/N with all her heart, her excitement palpable. She didn't try to hide her face; she was there to support the man she loved. Fans and cameras quickly picked up on her presence, and the speculation started to spread like wildfire.

Y/N, aware that Jenna was in the stands, played with renewed vigor. Her presence was a source of strength, reminding him of what truly mattered. As the match wore on, AC Milan gained momentum, and Y/N's performance was stellar. His passes were precise, his tackles were solid, and his energy was contagious.

Late in the second half, with the score tied, Y/N saw an opening. He sprinted down the field, weaving through defenders with incredible speed. As he approached the goal, he took a deep breath and struck the ball with perfect precision. The crowd erupted as the ball sailed past the goalkeeper and into the net.

Jenna jumped to her feet, screaming and cheering louder than anyone else in the stadium. Her heart swelled with pride and love as she watched Y/N's teammates surround him, celebrating the crucial goal.

The final whistle blew, signaling AC Milan's victory. The team gathered on the field, their joy palpable. Y/N's eyes scanned the stands until they locked onto Jenna's. Without thinking, he ran toward her, his heart pounding with excitement and adrenaline.

Jenna didn't hesitate. She climbed over the barrier separating the VIP section from the field and ran to meet him. They collided in a tight embrace, and for a moment, the world around them disappeared. Y/N pulled back slightly, his eyes searching hers.

"Jenna," he whispered, his voice full of emotion.

She smiled up at him, tears of joy in her eyes. "You were amazing, Y/N. I'm so proud of you."

Before he could respond, Jenna leaned in and kissed him passionately. The crowd around them gasped and then erupted into cheers and applause. Cameras flashed, capturing the moment that was sure to make headlines.

As they pulled apart, breathless and smiling, Y/N felt a weight lift from his shoulders. Jenna was by his side, and he didn't care who knew. Their secret was out, and it felt liberating.

Theo and a few other teammates approached, grinning widely. "So, this is why you've been so secretive, huh?" Luka teased, clapping Y/N on the back.

Y/N laughed, pulling Jenna closer. "Yeah, this is why."

Jenna smiled at the team, her eyes twinkling. "You guys played an incredible game. I'm just happy I could be here to see it."

As the celebrations continued, Y/N and Jenna stayed close, their hands intertwined. The media buzzed with excitement, and social media exploded with the news of their relationship. But Y/N didn't care about the attention or the speculation. All that mattered was that he had Jenna by his side.

...

Back at Y/N's apartment that evening, the two of them cuddled on the couch, reliving the day's events. Y/N's leg, though still sore, was a small price to pay for the victory and the joy of sharing his love for Jenna with the world.

"Today was incredible," Y/N said, pressing a kiss to Jenna's temple. "I'm so glad you were there."

Jenna snuggled closer, resting her head on his chest. "Me too. I wouldn't have missed it for anything."

They stayed like that for a while, enjoying the peace and quiet. Eventually, Jenna looked up at Y/N, her expression serious. "Are you ready for what comes next? The media, the attention..."

Y/N nodded, his eyes full of determination. "As long as I have you, I'm ready for anything."

Jenna smiled, her heart swelling with love. "We'll face it together, just like we always do."

And with that, they settled into a comfortable silence, knowing that whatever challenges lay ahead, their love would guide them through.

#jenna ortega x y/n #jenna ortega x you #jenna ortega x male reader #jenna ortega imagine #jenna ortega fanfic #jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega #dailywomen #imagine #fanfic #one shot

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stellar-fiore · 2 months

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CRONOLOGÍA Y ESCALAS DE PODER

Buenas! en este apartado pondré los años de donde son cada una de mis Musas. Ademas de explicar al respecto de donde vienen las musas de Fate, ya que ellas se desarrollan en un canon divergent de los sucesos de Fate/Stay Night. Igualmente explicare un poco como manejo las escalas de poder en caso que surja un rol de combate, especialmente para los Servants los cuales nerfeare por el bien de la trama (ya que Nasu el autor original de la franquicia, tiene la PÉSIMA! propiedad de poner a sus personajes casi dioses -.- para luego el mismo nerfearlos en sus obras...NASU PARA ESO PONLOS REALISTAS NO ME*****)

ANIMES DIVERSOS

Yoh y Sakura, ellos provienen específicamente del año 1998, así que si se les antoja un rolcito en los 90 pueden picarles a ellos. En cuanto a su escala de poder, es la misma que la serie, aquí no varia mucho.

Madoka proviene del año 2011 (año de salida de la serie) lo decidí así ya que el anime lo sitúa en un futuro no preciso, y el manga en los años 2000, así que bueno, un punto medio. Sus poderes y habilidades son iguales que en la serie.

También, consta aclarar que Madoka es su versión Puella Magi de las diversas lineas de tiempo anteriores que vivió gracias a los viajes en el tiempo de Homura (ya que la ultima linea de tiempo que es la de la serie ella no se convirtió como tal en Puella). La versión Ultimate Madoka o Goddess Madoka, que seria la de final de serie y Rebellion/Post-Rebellion, la reservaré para roles específicos, ya que en condiciones normales ella no puede interactuar con los humanos.

Maomao, como saben, en la obra original viene de un reino llamado Reino de Li, pero! tomando en cuenta que prácticamente es la antigua China, decidí cambiarlo a la misma, específicamente el siglo VII. Ademas, también tiene un Verse Moderno en donde es farmacéutica y ayudante de enfermería de su padre que es medico. Este no tendrá año en especifico, el año lo determina la historia en la que se sitúe.

NOTA IMPORTANTE!!!: Si los años de procedencia de mi musa y tu musa no coinciden, no tengo problemas en colocar que mis musas vienen del año de tu musa! Lo tomaría como un AU.

FATEVERSE

En este caso en particular me extenderé un poquito. Los sucesos de Fate/Zero se desarrollaron tal cual, sin cambios en la obra, salvo que al final Gilgamesh regresa al Trono de los Héroes. Luego de eso pasaron diez años hasta la Quinta Guerra del Santo Grial, la cual aconteció en 2004, que es el año donde actualmente se encuentran los musos de Fate. Respecto a Gil, dado que la personalidad que tiene en Zero es distinta a como yo lo roleo, la explicación es que al ser el único Servant semihumano invocado en esa Guerra, fue influido por la maldad del Grial Corrupto, volviéndolo la peor versión de si mismo. Ello y que desconocía lo psicópata que era Kotomine, que de haber sabido que era maldad pura en potencia jamas le hubiera alentado a descubrir su verdadera personalidad.

Ahora bien, la Quinta Guerra en este verse no ocurrió cual la obra original, aunque toma elementos de la versión/ruta Unlimited Blade Works. En esta Guerra, Gilgamesh es Servant de Rin, y si tiene su verdadera personalidad que es la que yo llevo (la personalidad del Caster) aunque igual Arturia fue convocada por Shirou, y que fue Kirei solamente el ultimo enemigo a derrotar, siendo el artífice de todo, y gracias a que esta vez destruyeron el verdadero núcleo del Grial y no la copa que lo contenía como en Zero, lograron de algún modo purificarlo, lo cual les permitió pedir brevemente un deseo al Grial, que se volvieran a invocar a los Espíritus Heroicos (lógicamente bajo ciertas condiciones y parámetros, no iban a dejar que cualquier Magus llamara a un Servant) al mundo humano, y que permanecieran los que estaban presentes. Desde entonces Gil vive con Rin (aunque también tienen a Enkidu casi de habitante de la casa (??) y Arturia con Shirou.

En cuanto a Lancelot, prácticamente es igual que en el Zero original, es convocado por Kariya Matou en la Cuarta Guerra, pero debido a las condiciones especificas de su invocación (las lineas del hechizo creadas para llamar a la clase Berserker), redujo aun mas su racionalidad humana, razón por la cual no podía comunicarse mas que en gruñidos y rugidos y actuaba mas brutal y salvaje, ademas de permanecer durante toda la Guerra en forma espiritual hasta que fuera necesario actuar, ignorante de la situación a su alrededor, hasta que murió a manos de Arturia, cumpliendosele el único deseo que tenia, que era ser castigado por las manos de su Rey, motivo el cual siempre le llevaba a actuar contra Arturia creyendo así era el único modo de provocar la ira de la soberana y que lo atacase a el también, aunado al sentimiento de ira que lo consumió creyendo que Arturia había sacrificado demasiado olvidándose de ella misma. Diez años después, habiendo concluido la Quinta Guerra del Santo Grial, debido al desastre de la misma y las consecuencias que dejo en las lineas ley, ademas del hecho de ser un Espíritu Heroico que fue previamente llamado a Fuyuki y encima estar vinculado a Arturia, apareció de nuevo en este mundo, al igual que sus colegas Servants recibiendo el deseo de poder vivir nuevamente en el mundo mortal como Servant. Vive junto a Arturia en casa de Shirou (luego de una acalorada discusión entre ambos Caballeros, uno porque no quería importunar a su Rey y la otra por no dejar a la deriva a su mejor amigo) siendo que gracias al deseo ambos Caballeros pueden compartir Master (aunque complementan su suministro de mana a través de la comida). Además, pudo recuperar su capacidad de habla, aunque la misma esta limitada al igual que su racionalidad y pensamiento por los efectos de la habilidad de Clase Berserker llamada "Mad Enhancenment", por lo cual cuando conversa lo hace de modo entrecortado, y sólo puede hablar con el estilo y modo que lo hizo en vida, siendo incapaz de aprender palabras u modismos nuevos.

En cuanto a las escalas de poder, Rin tiene los mismos poderes y habilidades que la serie original.

Respecto a los Servants, hice una pequeña modificación en cuanto a su origen respecto al original. Son seres espirituales en esencia, más al morir una parte de sus cuerpos trascendió con ellos junto a su alma al Trono de los Héroes (lugar donde residen los Espíritus Heroicos en Fate), lo cual permite al momento de su invocación ser "materializados" a través de magia, no obstante bien pueden tomar una forma espiritual. Por dicha razón, para hacerles un daño real o "matarlos" aka borrarlos de este mundo, es necesario el uso de magia o técnicas espirituales para herirlos de verdad. Las armas o golpes corrientes pueden lastimarlos o hacerles heridas pequeñas pero solo eso.

En cuanto a Arturia y Lancelot, al ser Espíritus Humanos, al convertirse en Servants vieron un aumento en sus parámetros de fuerza, velocidad, agilidad y resistencia entre otros, convirtiéndolos en "super humanos" a falta de un mejor término, siendo de los dos Lancelot el mas fuerte físicamente, por su clase Berserker que es la mas fuerte en cuanto a fuerza física (si queremos un punto de referencia, Arturia es capaz de mover un auto pequeño y usarlo como escudo, y Lancelot alzar una minivan, siendo ambos autos lo máximo que pueden levantar en cuanto a fuerza, o usando la escala de poder de Jujutsu Kaisen, están a la par de los Hechiceros Grado Especial). Respecto a Gilgamesh, debido a que en vida fue un semi dios, no recibió ningún aumento en sus parámetros de poder, estando dos niveles mas alto que sus congéneres Servants, o de nuevo, usando la escala de JJK, al nivel de una Maldición Grado Especial.

Igualmente, si los años de mis musas y tus musas no coinciden, le daré preferencia al año de tu musa. Los Servants no envejecen al ser Espíritus Materializados, y Rin seria su versión adulta!

#headcanons #verses #stellar golden king: gilgamesh #stellar king of knights: arturia #stellar black knight: lancelot #stellar crystal heiress: rin #stellar star cherry blossom: sakura #stellar puella of hope: madoka #stellar medicine flower: maomao #stellar earth samurai: yoh #gracias por leer!#importante!

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lovebugism · 2 years

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✶ ┄ FIX IT !

summary: you thought you were over it, the whole steve-and-nancy thing. spoiler alert: you aren't. pairing: steve harrington / f!reader word count: 3.5k warning: angst. gut wrenching angst. with a sort of happy ending. a/n: i'm such a sucker for angst it's gotta be unhealthy at this point. anyway, shout out to all my angsty fic enjoyers. let's read this and cry together <3

Having four roommates and only two bathrooms was worth it if it meant getting out of Hawkins. The apartment was a quaint little thing just outside of Indianapolis — up four flights of stairs with no elevator, cracks in the walls, and a stellar view of an alleyway.

But it was nice to have a place all your own. Sharing it with all your best friends was even better. That was the dream after all, wasn’t it? And being with Steve — that was just the cherry on top of it all.

So you weren’t going to let your mean, green, and envious heart ruin the new life you and your friends were trying to build in this tiny apartment.

You didn’t even think yourself the jealous type. Not until you realized that Steve was going to live under the same roof as his ex-girlfriend. It was dumb and it was irrational and you just couldn’t shake it.

It was probably a whole lot harder for Steve than it was for you, really. Besides, it had been years since they were together. Both of them had moved on, both of them had new and blossoming relationships.

Jonathan was good to Nancy. And to you, Steve was… well he was perfect. More importantly, he was yours.

So it really shouldn’t bother you.

And it didn’t. Not for a while.

Not until Nancy and Jonathan broke up out of nowhere and he’d announced to all of you on movie night that he was moving out.

He said that he missed California too much, that Argyle was getting lonely all the way out there, and that he had a spare room at his place. You couldn’t tell if that was the truth or just some bullshit excuse.

Maybe both.

What made it worse is that Nancy hadn’t seemed all that upset about it. Hell, you were more sad about him leaving than she was.

She told you as much during your weekly designated wine night (the one where you and her and Robin got drunk on cheap wine, while the rest of the boys fucked off and got drunker on cheaper beer).

“It didn’t hurt as bad as I thought it would,” she’d confessed with a shrug, only slightly tipsy and cheeks pink with it. “We… drifted apart, I guess. Just felt right to end it.”

You and Robin spent the rest of the night comforting her, anyway.

She loved Jonathan, everyone knew that. It sort of came with the whole shared trauma thing. She had to be at least a little bit sad that her person was gone, but she hid it away from the rest of you like it was her job.

But when the days got really bad, and she found herself missing Jonathan more than she liked, she sought refuge in Steve. Your Steve.

And it made sense. He knew her better than the rest of you.

But it didn’t mean it hurt any less.

A sick feeling twists in your stomach when Steve accompanies the girl on a liquor store run without her having to ask. You watch with your heart in your throat when he leaves with her in the dead of night — a swirling bubble of jealousy in the pit of your chest with an ache so palpable you can taste it.

You spend the next several minutes trying not to look as sad as you feel while Eddie can’t stop debating on what the two of them might be talking about.

Nancy had been more reserved as of late, carrying a rain cloud over her as she wandered through the apartment like a ghost — he concludes they’re just going out to spill some hot goss. Robin makes him promise to never say those string of words ever again while you quietly dismiss yourself to your bedroom.

Nancy and Steve have been gone for an hour.

Lying in the dark and staring up at the textured, water-stained ceiling, you start to do the math. Fifteen minutes there, fifteen minutes back with traffic — but the streets are usually bare after nine o’clock. Either way, that leaves a half hour spent trying to choose what alcohol to splurge on.

You’ve seen Nancy try to pick out wine, she’s indecisive and a perfectionist to boot. She could spend hours dissecting each bottle to find the perfect one, if Robin wasn’t constantly over her shoulder rushing her.

Maybe that’s why Nancy had declined when the girl offered to tag along with them.

Or maybe she just wanted to be alone with Steve—

You have to physically shake that thought from your head. But even when you shut your eyes, it’s like the image of him and Nancy making out in the back of her Station Wagon is ingrained in the depths of your mind.

You curl into yourself and bathe in the depths of the dark abyss you’ve created in your bedroom, trying to see your way out of your handcrafted turmoil like a bad cold.

When Nancy and Steve return, they come cradling paper bags in their arms like babies.

Robin relieves the latter of the load in his hands and follows the darker-haired girl into the kitchen connected to the living room, no larger than a decent-sized closet.

Steve notices the lack of your presence as soon as he walks through the door. When he’d left, the three of you were pregaming — a feat that often led to Eddie breaking out his guitar and you and him singing terribly off-key to whatever was playing on the radio.

Now you’re nowhere to be found, and he feels it like a missed meal. He feels the ache of your absence like an empty stomach.

“Where’d she go?” Steve asks Eddie, who’s lounging on the couch and taking up the entire space — legs spread and arms thrown over the back.

The curly-haired boy takes a noisy sip of his nearly gone beer. Then exhales rather dramatically when he sits the can on his thigh. It leaves a damp ring on the denim. “Hey, buddy... Just blow in from stupid town?”

“…What?”

Eddie rolls his eyes, already annoyed and knowing more than he lets on. “She’s in her room, dingus.”

“She okay?” Steve wonders with furrowed brows, uncaring of the use of the stupid nickname because there’s bigger things to worry about apparently.

It wasn’t like you to miss a night of drinking. He gets momentarily fearful that you’d gotten sick while he was away, that he wasn’t around to help you if you had.

“Why don’t you ask her?” Eddie lilts with wide eyes, like it’s a bright idea that neither of them would’ve thought of otherwise.

His sarcasm makes Steve roll his eyes, but he heeds the boy’s words anyway.

Through the short hallway and the last door on the right, he finds you in the darkness of your shared bedroom, illuminated only by the orange streetlight that filters through the blinds. You're hid beneath the covers, a little lump on the mattress.

He idles in the doorway and waits for you to react to his presence.

You don’t.

“Hey, babe,” he greets cautiously after concluding you just hadn’t heard the door squeak open upon his arrival. “You feel okay?”

You mumble something he can’t quite make out. He takes the raised infliction as an affirmative and shifts his weight on his feet because it’s unlike you to be so one-note with him.

“Well, I, uh— I bought some of that wine you like... I couldn’t remember if you liked the blackberry or blueberry, so I ended up just getting both, you know, just in case.”

“Okay,” you respond after several agonizing seconds. Your voice sounds so fragile in the still darkness. Like he didn’t already know something was wrong.

He so desperately wants to pry but chooses to err on the side of caution for now, out of fear of turning the bad, worse.

“You wanna come down and try it with me? If you don’t like it we can always go back—”

“I’m okay,” you interrupt gently, with a tone so soft and coated with so much emotion that it makes his heart sink. You’re anything but and he knows it.

“Okay,” he nods anyway with the hope that he can pull you from this funk you’d managed to fall into. “Do you, uh… Do you want me to stay in here with you?”

He hears your deep sigh and sees the way the wad of blankets rises and falls again. A telltale sign of your annoyance. He knows then that he’s overstayed his welcome.

Your voice remains quiet but loses its kindness when you tell him: “You can do whatever you want, Steve.”

He’s hurt by the way you’re so suddenly short with him, then angered because he didn’t do anything to deserve it in the first place.

“Okay, what’s wrong with you? What did I do?”

You don’t answer. You just sigh again, the same really big, dramatic one that’s more to showcase your irritation with him than anything else.

You’re more than keen to end the conversation right there, but Steve isn’t. Not when something’s eating you away from the inside out and he can’t do anything to help you because you won’t let him.

“Babe, c’mon. I get it, alright? You’re mad at me. Just tell me what I did wrong so I can fix it.”

“You can’t fix it,” you monotone, stifled beneath the covers.

“I can’t fix it?” he repeats with furrowed brows. “What do you mean, I can’t fix it?”

You use your silence as an answer, as a weapon. It’s almost worse than any silver-tongued reply you could've given him. The quiet forces him to think for himself and imagine all the things he could’ve done wrong that he can’t take back. It feels like quicksand.

Did he forgot to kiss you good morning? Of course, he didn’t — actually, he gets mad at you for forgetting — and you were golden before he left. Eddie probably said something stupid, that was likely. Or maybe Robin made a joke that upset you, that was even more likely.

He figures it’s something in between all those. Something silly that feels like the end of the world. He can make it better. He always makes it better.

Steve lifts the lump of covers you shield yourself with and crawls beneath them with the intention of pulling you out of the void you’ve sunken into.

It’s not so comfortable, lying in bed in socks and jeans and a collared shirt, but he doesn’t need to feel good right now — you do. He’ll be content if he can just hold you in his arms for a couple of hours, the rest of the night if that’s what you need.

But he can’t even do that.

He reaches for your arm, fingers just barely trailing across the warm skin there, and you jerk away from him like he’s shocked you.

It startles him, how quick you are to avoid him. It has him jerking back too, because you’ve never denied him the opportunity to touch you. He becomes the same sort of storm cloud that you are now, because he doesn’t know what he did to deserve this. Any of it.

“Why are you doing this?” he asks you, less soft than he’d been before.

You sniffle. “I told you I didn’t want you going out alone with Nancy anymore,” you mumble, face still shoved into your pillow. The words are slightly muffled but he can hear the tears that coat your voice.

“That’s what this is about?” he wonders, not as empathetic as you’d hoped he might be, but genuinely confused. With your back to him, you don’t see the smile pulling at his lips while he shakes his head, like it’s funny to him. “Babe, we were just getting drinks. It’s no different than you going out with Robin.”

“It’s totally different! Because I was never in love with Robin. She was never in love with me—”

“Well, I beg to differ,” he murmurs in a soft laugh.

“It’s not funny, Steve,” you retort wetly and then sniffle again. When you turn to face him, he sees for the first time what he’s done to you.

The orange of the streetlight lamp outside bathes you in a sunset shade of neon — your eyes are glassy with tears that gather at your lashes. Emotions glow at the tip of your nose and your cheeks. Your skin would be hot to the touch if he felt you now.

“Do you know how weird it is for me? To watch my boyfriend and his ex go fuck around with me?” you ask him with a scrunched nose and brows, like your trying to keep yourself from falling apart in front of him.

“It’s not like that and you know it,” Steve scolds. “She just wanted to get alcohol for tonight and had some shit to get off her chest. I mean, she’s been having a really hard time lately—”

“It’s not your job to take care of her, Steve!” you shout before you even realize you’re shouting. You take in a shuddered breath and let it out in a trembling sigh, shining eyes flitted away from him and towards the ceiling as you calm yourself down.

When you start your lament again, you’re quieter.

“You can’t just be this, like, emotional crutch for her every single time something’s wrong. She’ll just get invested in you all over again and…”

Steve watches from beside you, propped up on his elbow, as you trail off. The frown between your eyebrows deepens, a great and inquisitive crevice, while your eyes widen and your mouth falls softly agape — like you’ve discovered something in the midst of your rant.

“Is— Is that what you want?” you ask him then. “Do you, like, need her attention to feed your ego or something?”

He’s too offended by your words to tell you all the ways they aren’t true. “What? No! Why would you say that?”

“Because it’s embarrassing, Steve.”

“What is?”

“Watching you and her together!” you admit through a tightening throat. You rise from where you’d been laying down and Steve follows you, settling in front of you as you wrap your arms around your knees. “When I have to sit here, by myself, while you guys spend time alone. When she always knows what you’re up to, and I don’t—”

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes quietly, because he doesn’t know what else to say.

“—It’s not fair. She’s not your girlfriend, Steve, I am. It’s your job to take care of me, not her.”

Steve deflates like a popped balloon. His chin falls to his chest and his eyes squeeze shut at the weight of your words.

It’s like you’re reminding him that he’s supposed to be in love with you and not someone he cared for a long time ago. Like you felt the need to remind him because you thought he’d forgotten somewhere down the line.

It hurts him too. It feels like you’ve got his heart in your hands and you're wringing it in your grip.

“You’re right,” Steve concedes with a nod. “I just... I guess, I never thought about it like that.”

He feels the same way, too, sometimes. When you and Eddie go all buddy-buddy mode and want to spend time together.

When you’re out all night with him at band practice. When you’re attached at the hip and having sleepovers in his room to talk about everything and nothing for hours until you fall asleep when the sun rises. When you both come down at one in the afternoon the next day for breakfast, giggling about the thing you said the night before.

It makes him feel like he’s missing out. Like you’re sharing parts of yourself with someone else and he isn’t allowed to see it.

And sometimes he gets irrational — keeps himself up all night as he imagines you and Eddie making out on his floor after going through all his new tapes or fucking in his unmade bed while he keeps a hand on your mouth to keep you quiet.

Steve concocts waking nightmares for himself whenever you’re not beside him.

But even then, it’s different. Because he used to do all that shit with Nancy. They fell in love, made out for hours because they didn’t want to stop feeling each other, had sex on a twin-sized bed and tried to keep from falling out of it while they did.

You’d never done that shit with Eddie — or with anyone you’re now sharing a home with. Besides Steve.

Because he’s yours now. And you’re his.

But you can’t stop thinking about how he used to be Nancy’s too.

“I don’t need you to tell me that I’m right,” you murmur with the childlike shake of your head, slow and lazy, as you wipe your wet cheek on your shoulder. “I need you to do something about it— I needed you to do something about it a long time ago.”

“I will, okay? I will. I promise. I’ll fix it,” Steve assures you quickly, with wide and hopeful eyes and a nodding head that makes his hair flop against his forehead.

He can see you losing hope in front of him, like a flame going slowly out. You’re slipping away. He keeps fighting to keep a hold of you.

“No.”

“…No?”

“You can’t,” you sniffle. “You can’t fix it.”

“Baby—”

“It’s not fair. To either of us,” you tell him, looking at him through clumped together lashes and heavy, sparkling eyes. “And it’s not your fault, okay? But I can’t keep feeling this like. It’s not healthy— this isn’t… this is what a healthy relationship is supposed to look like. It shouldn’t feel like this.”

Steve blinks back stinging tears. He brings his hand to his face and rubs the back of it against his burning nose. He feels a bit like you do now, hopeless. You’re slipping away and he is too and you both just keep on slipping, just going going going.

“You’re not even—” he clears his throat when his voice breaks halfway through. “You’re not even gonna let me try?”

You shrug weakly. Tears burn as they gather at your waterline. You revel in the sting because it’s better than the hole ripping through your chest.

“I don’t know. I think… I think it’s too late.”

“Why would you say that?” Steve agonizes with the shake of his head, looking like a wounded puppy as he gaze at you with brown eyes full of hurt. “Don’t say that. Don’t.”

“Steve—”

“No,” he interjects firmly, stopping the spiral before it can start again.

He positions himself so he’s sitting further ahead of you and holds your arms in his numbing hands, ducking down to catch your gaze when you try to look away from him.

“I love you, okay? I’m an idiot and I’m sorry and I'm stupid, alright? I wasn’t thinking. But we can’t just… It’s not too late. I can fix this. I promise I can fix this.”

Your chest aches at his plea, at the way he still doesn’t understand.

It’s not his fault you feel this way, not entirely. It’s not anyone’s fault and that’s what’s so scary. There’s no one to blame the pain on, no root to cut out and put an end to it. You’re frightened that it’s always going to be there, constantly in the way, forbidding either of you from ever moving on.

“Steve...” you murmur through tears while the boy gathers you in his arms. You try to stop him but your voice gets caught in your throat halfway through. Because you don’t want him to stop. Not ever.

He nurses you into his velvet hold, wrapping a pair of strong arms around you to cage you against him. He presses his nose into your temple while he rocks you back and forth. “I promise. Everything’s okay. I’ll fix it.”

He repeats that like a mantra while you keep your head pressed against his chest — everything’s gonna be okay, I can fix it, I love you.

It’s a promise. One that he’d rather die than break.

You stay there, curled against his chest, while dark feelings ebb and flow in a constant and bitter cycle.

You hope he’s right. That these big feelings are just big stupid feelings that'll pass come the pink and blue sunrise. That everything really is going to be okay and that he really can fix it.

Because even now, all hopeless and full of doom and gloom, you feel soothed in his hold. You’ve never felt safer anywhere else. You’ve built a home in the peace of Steve’s arms and you want to keep on living in them.

“I’m gonna make it better,” he whispers against the crown of your head. If you’ll let me.

He feels you nod lazily against him. “Okay.”

#steve harrington x reader #stranger things x reader #steve harrington imagine #steve harrington angst #stranger things imagine #steve harrington #stranger things #stevie oneshot #published by bug #st oneshots

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staranghae · 7 months

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better than the movies

summary. a new love blossoms between two people who could not be more different from each other. and no seungkwan, it is not because of your self-proclaimed 'stellar cupid skills', shut up!

pairing. cinephile! c.hs x bookworm! reader wc. 1.1k warnings. profanity, agggtm and its two sequels are movies in this. genre. crack, fluff, non-idol! au, intentional lowercase. a/n. this was requested by one of my very lovely moots and was a blast to write. @nonononranghaee hope you like it 🤍

you were browsing through the shelves of your local library looking for the sequel of the novel you had finished that afternoon.

you were growing increasingly desperate as you browsed shelf after shelf of the literature section but to no avail.

tired and miserable, you dragged yourself over to the librarian and asked her about the book,

"hello, do you have a copy of 'good girl, bad blood' by holly jackson?"

the librarian glances at you before going to her computer and looking through the library's online database. she turns to you with an apologetic smile before informing you the tragic news,

"i'm so sorry darling but someone checked it out just this morning."

your face visibly falls at her statement. the librarian, feeling a bit sorry for you, asks,

"i can put it on hold for you when it gets back if you'd like?"

you give her a somber smile before nodding your head.

you turn to leave but recall an incident that had taken place a few weeks ago at your place.

"seungkwan i swear to every god in the universe, if you don't give my book back i will suffocate you in your sleep, you sneaky little bitch!" you yell, chasing your best friend around your apartment as he maneuvers around your furniture, waving your book in the air.

he finally stops, standing on your futon while holding the book above his head and out of your reach.

"y/n listen. the deal is simple. agree to go on a blind date and i'll give you the book back. easy, right?"

you look at him incredulously before climbing on the futon and kicking him in the shin. not too hard, just enough so his knees would buckle. he immediately drops your book in favour of inspecting his now injured shin.

"this is what happens when you play with fire kwan. now i have a book to finish so get out!"

he mumbles something about 'stealing the sequel' before slamming your door shut on his way out.

you turn on your heel and go back to the librarian's desk. mustering up your courage, you ask her,

"may i know who checked it out? in case it's someone i know?"

she looks at you, a little confused, before turning to her computer. a few seconds later, she reads off of the screen,

"it seems a person by the name of 'boo seungkwan' has borrowed this book."

you chuckle under your breath, thank her, and storm out of the library furiously typing on your phone.

y/nie boo seungkwan!! when i fucking get you, its soo over for u. kwangerine y/n! what's got you like this at....2:13pm? y/nie idk kwan :| maybe it's the fact that you checked out the sequel to my book from the library:/ kwangerine ah so you found out :D welp, if you want it, come to heaven's cloud at 5:30 hehehe y/nie gremlin ass kwangerine :P

you sigh for what seems to be the millionth time today.

as you start walking towards your apartment, you make a mental note of everything you have to do today.

first, you have to pick up the laundry on the way to your apartment.

then, you have to go to heaven's cloud to murder seungkwan get your book back.

once back in your apartment, you decide to change before heading out to heaven's cloud. it wouldn't a very nice impression of you to go to your best friend's cafe clad in a concert tee and sweatpants.

you change into a dress and put on some light makeup before heading out.

the smell of coffee and vanilla envelops you as soon as you step into heaven's cloud cafe. you look around for seungkwan, but don't spot him.

but you DO spot his roommate, sitting in seungkwan's favourite spot holding your book, looking a bit...nervous?

you walk up to him and stand in front of him. when he doesn't notice you, you call him,

"vernon? did seungkwan send you?"

"y/n? you look...nice."

"thanks? you still haven't answered my question?"

he laughs a bit before gesturing for you to sit down. you sit in front of him as he starts to talk,

"so what happened is, i was watching the 'a good girl's guide to murder' movie right? seungkwan came in mumbling something about you being to engrossed in books to even have a social life."

you just roll your eyes at the perfect description of your best friend before telling him to continue.

"and then he looks at me and starts going off about how we're exactly like each other but also exact opposites."

"as in? what does that mean?"

"as in i wouldn't read a book to save my life and according to him, you would only watch a movie over your dead body. and-"

you interrupt him, knowing exactly where he was going with this.

"-and also. i'm a huge bookworm and you're a...movie connoisseur?"

he chuckles before answering you,

"well, the term is cinephile but yeah. a movie connoisseur of sorts."

"yeah whatever. and seungkwan thought it would be good idea to pull whatever he pulled and make this a date. am i right?"

he freezes up a bit before nodding slowly. you, on the other hand, did not know what to feel. had seungkwan done this because of how many times you had gushed to him whenever there was a opposites attract trope in your cheesy little romance novels, or had he finally figured out your yearlong crush on his extremely attractive roommate?

it is only after you finally look at vernon do you realise he had asked you a question. you smile sheepishly while asking him to repeat the question because you hadn't been paying attention.

he merely chuckles before repeating his question,

"were you not aware this was a date? because seungkwan told me you knew."

"nope. didn't have a clue."

"ah. you can leave if you want, i don't really mind."

you feel a pang of disappointment in your chest at his statement. you take a deep breath and work up the courage to ask him the one question you've been meaning to ask him for the past year.

"vernon. do you, perhaps, like me? like, romantically?'

vernon all but spits out his drink at your sudden question (or was it a confession?)

he regains his composure before answering you,

"yeah! i mean, yes uhm, i have liked you, for like, uhh a year at this point i think."

you audibly laugh at his stuttering and ask him the million dollar question.

"do you want this date to go on?"

sure, but only if we can go back to my place so i can tell you why the movie is better than the book."

"that is, quite literally, impossible but sure, also only if i can tell you, factually, that the book is always, and i mean always, better than the movies."

the two of you laugh at your statement and continue with the date. a few tables behind you guys, there was a very pleased human cupid sipping on his iced americano, eavesdropping on your guys' conversation every so often.

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