#whats left for him probably a cold abyss
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Awful to think about everytime Loki's died he's seen the stars. First when he fell through a collapsing wormhole and likey ended up stranded in the midst of billions of stars. When he "died" on Svartalhfeim he probably would've woken up, looking up, to the sky, and finally on the ship with Thanos.
#so sad#he used to love the stars#now he probably asociates them with death#cold dark abyss#if you asked loki what he thinks of space he'd say it's “cold”#the place where his ancestors live#well. where Thor's ancestors live#whats left for him probably a cold abyss#/jk hes going to be HAPPY FOREVER#right marvel RIGHT?!#loki#loki laufeyson#marvel#loki laufeychild#loki laufeydottir#loki of asgard#loki of jotunheim#loki odinson#loki god of mischief#headcanon
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𝐋𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐋𝐄 𝐅𝐈𝐑𝐄𝐅𝐋𝐈𝐄𝐒 𝐄𝐕𝐄𝐑𝐘𝐖𝐇𝐄𝐑𝐄 | 00
"You know what hurts the most? I've lost our children too...but you...you're still alive...and I've already lost you."
synopsis: the chairman of the gojo group of companies, gojo satoru, is in need of an heir and quick. however, with a wife who is struggling to conceive and his subsequently crumbling marriage, he is forced to explore other options which now comes in the form of his wife's secretary.
pairing: gojo satoru x f!reader
warnings: 18+ angst, smut, mentions of depression and miscarriage.
You and Satoru Gojo are cursed.
Your marriage began to fracture the day you learned you could never have children, each passing moment turning your marriage into a silent battleground of unspoken regrets and fading hopes. People would tell you that it’s probably just bad luck or wrong timing and that sooner or later, you and your other half would be blessed with your hearts’ desires. All you had to do was wait for the right moment, but no one told you that you’d be waiting forever.
“Your tie is crooked again.”
You step into the now empty groomsmen suite where your husband is peering at himself in the mirror. Just a few years ago, he played the role of the groom, anxiously waiting for the hour he’d be linked to you forever. Now, he’s a groomsman in someone else’s wedding and hopefully a happier marriage.
Satoru looks up at the mirror to see you standing there as if on ceremony, waiting for him to invite you in. Ironically, that pretty much sums up your entire marriage: your shared heartbreak has become a gaping chasm between the two of you. You and Satoru could only hope that his sister’s wedding wouldn’t end up like yours – as lonely and quiet as a solitary mountain lake.
“I got it. You should head down with the other bridesmaids.” Satoru unloops his tie, his heart stubbornly refusing yours.
A numbness coats your veins when he simply gives up, and unbuttons his white collar for a more laid-back look instead, of course he’d rather do that — do anything else — than accept help from you, than speak more than two sentences to you, than be anywhere near you. That’s just how things are now after running head first into a happily ever after that was never going to come. “Fine. I’ll see you downstairs then.”
“Sure,” Satoru says nonchalantly.
He half-expected you to linger by the door for another minute, but his heart caves in when he sees you’ve simply left. But what did he expect? The void that exists between the two of you had grown too vast, and the brighter days of your marriage had been swallowed by the abyss of unmet expectations, and endless heartbreak. And now, all that’s left of the chaos is two lovers who have now ventured into the realm of reluctant strangers driven apart by fate.
Satoru walks over to the now closed door, and somehow sensing that you were still on the other side, he presses a hand to the cold wooden material, as if to say, “I’m still here.”
He hears a soft sniffle, then the painful sound of your receding footsteps and Satoru is, for the first time in one thousand four hundred sixty one days of calling himself your husband, utterly alone.
“Time to go home,” Satoru says monotonously, his right hand buried in his pocket while his free one holds the now settled hospital bill. He looks at you blankly, almost as if he expected this. After all, when you showed him the positive pregnancy test fifteen weeks ago, unlike the preceding ones, Satoru didn’t bother to make it public.
“I-I’m so…” you trail off, your eyes brimming with tears. “...Sorry.”
“I know. You always are,” your husband curtly replies. He’s lost count of how many times you’ve been in this exact position: by your hospital bed with a medical abstract in his hand with the words “spontaneous miscarrriage” printed on it.
He was getting sick of it. It’s almost like a nightmare that never seems to end. This would have been your fifth child, and yet again, you and Satoru would never have the chance to hold them in your arms for even just a second until they’re brutally ripped away from you. He looks at you again and sighs when you don’t move a muscle, seemingly still in shock from the ordeal.
“If you’re not ready to go, I’ll just have our driver pick you up.”
“...Alright.”
“Okay.”
He turns to leave but then your broken voice cuts through the thick air of the hospital room. “Satoru…? You don’t blame me right?”
Satoru screws his eyes shut, that was the last question he wanted to answer. He couldn’t bring himself to tell you that he has never blamed you for miscarrying, that, in the four years since he married you and the four years he’s had to witness child after child slip through your fingers like it was never meant to be, he’s never felt a tinge of disappointment towards you.
He told you not to go to the dental mission today, since you were on strict bedrest with your placenta previa but you made all these bullshit reassurances that you weren't going to push yourself too hard. He wants to say that you should have been more careful, that you should have listened to him. Yet, even then, he also couldn’t bring himself to tell you, his poor wife, his hurting better half, all the resentment he’s been harboring, so, he does the only thing he can do.
He runs away, far away from you when you need him the most. You stifle a sob when he doesn’t even crane his head back to look at you like the act of doing so would make him sick. “Get some rest," he simply tells you, unaware that this would be the last real conversation you’d have for a while because the next two months would be weeks of gut-wrenching silence. "Today...must have been hard for you."
He was wrong, you think sullenly to yourself as he leaves you alone. Every day has already become unbearable for you, every breath has become debilitating. What right did you have to breathe when all your children, each one departing with a piece of your and Satoru’s hearts, had been denied that very right?
Looking back at it now, Sayuri’s wedding was just like yours. What else would you have expected considering that you helped with the preparations from the color scheme to the venue’s decorations? Sayuri valued your input, and with you, despite being the junior party, having gotten married first, surely, you must have known what you were talking about when it comes to weddings. Too bad you couldn’t say the same thing about knowing a thing or two about marriage.
As you watch the happy couple from the top table, you utter a silent prayer in your heart that Satoru’s sister will never have to face the trials you have faced.
Satoru stands up from his seat, guiding you to the top table with a hand on the small of your back to bid your farewells and final well wishes. “Sayuri, it’s getting late. Y/N and I should be heading back now.” A look of disappointment crosses Sayuri’s face but it is quickly overshadowed by understanding.
You watch with a small smile as your husband embraces his older sister, whispering something in her ear that causes her to land a jab on Satoru’s abdomen. Stepping forward, you kiss Sayuri’s cheek in a show of sisterly love. “Congratulations again, nee-san.”
“Thanks for helping out again, Y/N,” Sayuri says sweetly, utterly grateful to all the assistance you extended for her special day. “I’m hoping you’ll help me for my next event, right?”
You return her smile with a slight tilt of your head; the two of you have been friends long before Satoru came into the picture, what with her being your ever supportive senior in university. The trust that you forged with Sayuri is often a running joke in the Gojo family. It’s often said that you got your husband’s sister’s approval long before you even knew each other. And it was true. The way she has stood as an older sister figure for you even during your darkest days fighting your loneliest battles is something you will forever cherish.
Satoru casts a look at new brother-in-law who is busy mingling with his own family; he makes a face at his sister’s remark. “You’re already planning for a second wedding when you’ve only been married for six hours?” your husband playfully jokes about his sister’s very questionable comment.
Come to think of it, that’s the first time you’ve seen Satoru smile in a long while, and when he did, it had to be because he joked about the tricky business of remarriage. It pains you to think that he has smiled so seldomly that you’ve almost forgotten how he looks when he’s not in a constant state of silent detachment, oceans deep in his chemtrail of thoughts. You were glad you weren’t a mind reader, dreading hearing his thoughts aloud: his silent hatred of you, the final goodbye having already materialized and rehearsed millions of times in his mind.
But couldn’t he see that you were still trying? You desperately want to hold his hand in a silent oath: “I’m still here.” but you think better of it, fearing that you might just lose him altogether.
Then again, a ghost of a mirthless smile appears on your lips for a brief second, if there’s anything you were good at, it was losing people.
You are pulled out of your thoughts by Sayuri’s sarcastic laugh. “Ha-ha. If I’m lucky, this’ll be my only wedding.” She sticks her tongue out at Satoru who merely rolls his eyes in response. “Anyway, as I was saying,” she turns to you with a hesitant smile, mulling over if this was a good idea given your circumstances.
Just then, her husband cordially approaches the three of you. “Hey,” he greets his wife with an affectionate kiss. “I got you this,” he places a champagne flute in Sayuri’s hand. “Alcohol-free, I swear.”
Satoru’s face falls momentarily. How long has it been since he kissed his wife like that? No, how long has it been since you put up those unscalable walls around the fortress that is your heart, blocking him out at every corner? He glances your way in an attempt to search your face – for anything to reassure him that your marriage was still salvageable, for anything to let him know you and him were still worth saving – he isn’t even surprised when you instantly turn your gaze away from him.
Guess he got his answer.
“Did you tell them?” your new brother-in-law asks with the same trepidation in his tone as his wife’s.
You make the cardinal mistake of asking. “Tell us what?” you ask, puzzled.
The next few words hit you like a tidal wave. Your prayers of Sayuri never having to experience the anguish you felt have been answered, in place of your own unanswered prayers for yourself and Satoru.
“That…we’re expecting.”
You don’t even notice that you’ve already muttered out a brief: “O-oh. I’m…happy for you.” As you numbly offer Sayuri her congratulations, you think back to all the times you and Satoru have had to hear: “I’m so sorry for your loss”. It wasn’t fair how happiness almost always helplessly slips through your and Satoru’s fingers in the form of a silent heartbeat at twelve weeks, or a fertilized egg that never truly grows into an embryo.
If there really was such a thing as “hell” or “damnation”, then yours came in the form of an empty nursery, an empty stroller, unused onesies, unsung lullabies and unflipped bedtime story books.
Satoru handles the news with an agonizing grace, his voice gruff and raw with held back emotions. He clears his throat, repeating the congratulations. “How far along are you?” he asks his sister, his demeanor shrouded with a profound yearning for the same thing, if not for him, then for you because if anything, of all people, you deserve that kind of joy too. Maybe even more so than him. He was fine with just having his wife back, after all. The succession of the entire conglomerate would always come second to you.
Even if you didn’t know it. Even if you no longer cared to believe him.
“Eighteen weeks,” Sayuri answers quietly. “I-I was gonna ask if Y/N would be interested in helping out with the baby shower but, I’d understand if this feels like a bad idea–”
“--It’s okay,” you defensively cut off Sayuri, refusing to hear another word of pity, another syllable along the lines of: “I’m sorry.”. You’ve had enough of that. “I-I’d be happy to…really.”
With your unconvincing words, your quartet falls into a tense silence. You and Satoru don’t dare to stay long enough for either of them to try saving the conversation, so, with a polite and final few well-wishes, you leave. Just as the two of you settle into the backseat of his car for the return journey to Tokyo, tiny droplets of rain begin to collect on the windows.
“...Why can’t we be like that?” you break the overwrought silence with a genuine question, a slight tremble in your voice.
“We were like that too,” he replies almost nostalgically, recalling the many precious hushed conversations each night in your marital bed, the mornings when you and him gaze at the other’s sleeping form, thinking to yourselves how lucky you two were to have each other, the warmth that came with being so in love.
It was an age long abandoned.
Now, you two were silent, your conversations not extending past two brief sentences, your bed is now empty and cold, and your luck had run out the same way your love died out.
“Once.”
You spoke of your union as if it were a house of cards that’s been torn apart by the wind, the two of you are now all but decimated, to the point where one can only wistfully pine after what had been lost that can no longer be restored. And after the many arguments that had erupted between you and him, unbearably, this was the one thing you could never argue about.
Satoru nods, echoing your words with a heavy heart. “Yeah…once.”
The fact is: no one knows what happened or rather, no one — not even your OBGYN — could have expected this. It was a normal day, you and Satoru, as excited parents-to-be, had booked the appointment and all the succeeding ones leading to your supposed due date ahead of time, so, you arrived at your usual schedule of 3:30 PM, and after a quick check of your vitals, the OB moves to conduct the standard ultrasound.
As you move to lie down on the bed, it seems you’ve only just noticed the bag Satoru was carrying. You look at it curiously. “What’s that?” you ask, pointing to the moss green canvas bag on his lap.
“Your hospital bag,” Satoru says enthusiastically, already opening it. “See? I packed three pairs of socks for you, a sweater, your lip balm, hairbrush, lotion and — why are you laughing?” he asks when you snort with laughter. The OB is also shaking her head in amusement. Clearly, your oblivious husband kinda missed the memo.
“Babe,” you explain amidst your giggles. “I’m not having the baby today.”
“What do you mea—oh,” He awkwardly looks at the hospital bag. Satoru Gojo, the owner of the ever powerful Gojo conglomerate, the darling of Kabutocho and the Nikkei Index, a holder of a dual degree in finance and business analytics, further supplemented with an MBA from Wharton, looks flustered. He had forgotten that he’s only supposed to bring that during the delivery.
The OB chuckles as she lifts your shirt up to squeeze some of the ultrasound gel on the taut skin of your still mostly flat but slightly swollen belly. “Seems dad was a bit too excited,” she remarks. You shift at the cold gel, but relax after a while.
“Well, it’s our first, after all,” you glance at Satoru with a warm smile. He brings your hand to his lips and he sits down on the chair, his eyes altering between you and the monitor. You squeeze his hand as the probe glides over your midriff. The image shifts slightly on the screen and the OB zooms in on the small image of your baby.
She makes a note of the growth. “6.0 centimeters at 12 weeks,” the OB says, pleasantly surprised. “Now, would the two of you like to hear the baby’s heartbeat?”
You and Satoru share a brief look of happiness and nod simultaneously.
Instantly, images of what life would look like from now on flash in your minds: Satoru would constantly be chasing after the little tornado that would be your child, while you’d be too busy cleaning up after the mischievous duo. If it’s a girl — which is Satoru’s preference but he’ll never actually say that out loud — Satoru would be almost always willing to indulge them. Their little girl needs your lipstick to give her daddy a makeover? Say no more, he’s already rummaging through your makeup bag. Oh, she wants a tiara? He’s already on the phone with his ex-fling who also happens to be Swarovski’s top designer to commission a tiara piece for his little princess.
And honestly, the same can be said for you if the baby does turn out to be a boy. It would be a joy to have a little Satoru of your own. You’d shower them with kisses every morning, and every night before he went to sleep, never shying away from letting him know how much you love him.
Or at least that was the plan.
Call it a mother’s intuition but something doesn’t feel right. Worry pricks at your entire being when all you can hear is the drone-like hum of the examination room’s AC unit, the frequency adjustment of the ultrasound machine and the sound of your own hearts breaking at the sound of silence.
“I’m so sorry, Mr. and Mrs. Gojo—”
“—What’s happening?” you ask frantically, your head abruptly lifting from the pillow in alarm to look at the screen. “What’s happening, ‘Toru? Why can’t I hear anything?” you look to Satoru for answers — no, perhaps you knew the answer all along — you simply looked at him, pleading with him to tell you that this wasn’t real, that you’ve probably just gone momentarily deaf or something, and that by some miracle, your baby was still there.
But as Satoru simply purses his lips, gently easing you back onto the bed, his eyes brimming with tears that were now falling in the crook of your neck, silently sobbing into your shoulder with you. You could faintly hear the OB amidst your sobs already paging the hospital pharmacy for a prescription of Mifepristone and Misoprostol to assist with emptying your womb. Not that it wasn’t already empty to begin with now that your baby is gone, and all they’ve left in their wake is a void in their parent’s hearts and a sense of confusion.
Why? Why did they just up and leave like that before you even got to hold them, to see their tiny face as they sleep in their hospital bassinet next to your bed? Did your baby somehow sense that you and Satoru would be horrible parents? Were you unworthy of their love, so unworthy that you’d never get to meet them?
“Shh, shh,” Satoru tries to soothe you in spite of his own turmoil, the thought of losing the baby too heavy on his mind to do anything other than attempt to comfort you. “I’m here…I’m right here.”
He was right. You both were still here but gazing back at the black and white image of your now sleeping angel, you’ll just have to learn to accept that they aren’t.
Satoru has been acting strange all day.
For one, he sent you a good morning text message wishing you luck with your patients today just as you were about to change into your scrubs when you arrived at your dental clinic in Tokyo Midtown, and just after receiving that message, your secretary, Kozue, happily enters your office with your takeaway coffee in one hand and a small gift box in the other.
“You know, Mr. Gojo would be a horrible secret admirer,” she remarks simply, placing the box above the patient records you were reviewing.
“Why is that?” you ask, finishing up on your 9:00 patient’s appointment sheet.
Kozue gestures to the Bvlgari logo on the small box. “He clearly has a thing for high-end jewelry brands, it’s either he sends you Bvlgari or Swarovski.” You breathe a small laugh at her keen observation.
“Looks like your observation skills are improving, pretty soon, I might just assign a patient to you,” you joke. “Anyway, it’s our fifth anniversary today, hence the gift-giving. I left him a new pair of Giorgo Armani loafers on the closet display this morning.”
“You two are so extra,” Kozue chortles. “My boyfriend and I don’t get to do all this.”
You nod sympathetically. “When’s he coming back again?” you ask as you carefully open the box to reveal a pair of Serpenti Seduttori diamond earrings with a blue sapphire on the head. Kozue watches you try them on with a soft smile on her face, it’s not often anyone gets to see you put your hair down.
“Around next year,” Kozue gushes. “But honestly, well, uh…don’t freak out, but—”
“—You plan to join him in Chicago once he gets his MBA,” you answer for her.
You’ve seen her often searching for apartments in the South Loop, indicating her future plans to leave the clinic and the country altogether for greener pastures overseas. You know that the long distance relationship has been hard for her, often using her breaks to speak with her boyfriend on the phone just as he’s about to turn in for the night.
It’s almost funny to think about: that Kozue and her lover, despite being forced into a long distance relationship due to their differing circumstances, were just about as close as literal soulmates get, while you and Satoru live together and yet you’re worlds away from each other.
But whatever, some people just get dealt a better hand.
“It’s alright. I really don’t mind if this would be our last year working together if it means you get to pursue your happiness elsewhere. The clinic is nothing compared to the world, after all.”
Kozue nods in thanks. This is just another one of the many things she admires you for. She knows that she isn’t as tenured as the rest of the dentists in the clinic, and honestly, she didn’t have a doctorate in dentistry either, but you still trusted her enough to be your secretary, and you never made her feel that she was in any way inferior to you or anyone else — it’s all just part of your caring nature even if you do have
“Now, you’re just making me wanna stay even more, boss,” Kozue pretends to wipe a tear from her eye, making you laugh.
Her loyalty is always something you’re grateful for and quite frankly, you couldn’t imagine the clinic functioning as well as it is without her. Sure, sometimes she’s annoyingly optimistic sometimes and just unbearably too happy in the mornings, but you had to hand it to her, in an office full of sleep-deprived dentists like yourselves, Kozue’s infectious enthusiasm is probably just as essential as good quality coffee beans. She always knows when to cheer everyone up, especially you.
“Well, that’s great, since you always know how to get me out of a tight spot,” you half-joke.
“Always!” she holds up her thumb in affirmation. The intercom suddenly pages her and she checks her watch. “Looks like our first patients are coming in, I’ll see you later. And happy anniversary to the two of you!”
The rest of the afternoon rolls by uneventfully and before you know it, Satoru is already picking you up from work like he always does except this time, he’s carrying a bouquet of pink camellias.
He removes his sunglasses just as he steps into the building and you stand there for a bit, a little starstruck.
It’s no secret that your husband is good-looking, but it feels like an eternity since you’ve actually properly regarded him. It’s like seeing him for the first time all over again: your heart thumps in your chest and a blush creeps onto your cheeks. How long has it been since you’ve felt this way? Since the two of you spent time with each other? Since you both made a courageous effort to mend the gap between you and him?
Satoru also stands there, relief washing over him when he notices you wearing the earrings he got you. “Hey,” he greets, striding over to you. The bouquet is placed into your waiting hands and you feel you’ve been swept off your feet when he leans down to press a soft yet somehow yearnful kiss on your forehead.
“Hi…” You shyly greet your husband like he’s some guy you met on a blind date. You then realize he’s wearing the Armani shoes you got him. “Do they fit well?”
What kind of a question is that? Satoru is a size twelve and a half, you should know your husband the same way he should know how his wife prefers pearls over sapphire.
Satoru forces a wry smile. The shoes do feel a little pinchy but you didn’t need to get the impression that he doesn’t appreciate your gift. “Yeah, they’re great.” He glances at the earrings with a soft smile. “You look beautiful.”
“Tell that to the patient who thought I was a mushroom when I gave them nitrous oxide earlier,” you chuckled. Satoru snorted in laughter at that. “Happy anniversary, ‘Toru,” you whispered.
“Happy anniversary, Y/N,” he pulls you into a tight hug, and your heart swells with an uneasy but welcome joy.
Your arms instinctively wrap around your husband’s form which Satoru responds to with an indiscernible sniffle. The walk to the car is quiet but not tense and maybe not peaceful either, years of emotional distancing are not easily forgotten after all. But — you look at your and Satoru’s interlocked hands, noting how for once, it felt like they fit a little more perfectly together right now more than ever — maybe it’s a start.
There’s a saying that goes: “There is no calamity greater than lavish desires. There is no greater guilt than discontentment. And there is no greater disaster than greed.” In a game of poker, it’s said the winner is the first to rise once he gets his betting sum back, and in chess, oftentimes it is the aggressive players that slaughter pawn after pawn who do not realize their own territory has already been infiltrated by their opponent.
With that being said, you shouldn’t have pushed it. You should have been content with the small yet meaningful progress you and Gojo made. After a night out at Tokyo’s Stellar Sky Garden Lounge, the two of you practically stumble back into the penthouse in an intense haze of lust, desire and a banal and reckless greed. In Satoru’s defense, with the way that you were responding to his touch, tilting your head back to expose the delicate flesh of your neck as he nips on the skin like a man possessed, he thought that, at the very least, you were ready to be intimate with him after what felt like an eternity of you choosing to sleep in the guest room rather than your marital bed.
“H-Hah–S-Satoru, mnhh…”
Satoru expertly wraps his lips around your nipple, suckling at it, his nose tickling your mound. His other hand catches your other tit, squeezing at the tender nub eliciting a languid moan from your lips. “Shhh,” he releases your nipple momentarily, his tongue flicking against the bud. “Let me take care of you, babe…”
His hand trails down to your core, collecting your slick, rubbing up and down your slit, plunging a finger inside. He bites his lip at your warmth, he could already feel your familiar and tight walls. And he wasn’t even inside you yet. The thought of being inside you again sends a shiver of excitement down his spine, and he pushes you onto the soft mattress.
It’s been two years since your last miscarriage, two whole years that you’ve denied him of sexual intimacy. And Satoru doesn’t blame you. Having to endure loss after loss, it was expected that you’d withdraw into yourself, closing everyone off as you healed. But can’t you see he was hurting too? That he has wept too? That he also has his own fair share of damp tear-stained pillows? That he has, on many occasions, locked himself in his C-suite office after having had to endure another sleepless night of your relentless sobs in the other room?
He looks into your hooded eyes, and he sees the future you two have lost: you carrying his baby in your arms, cooing to them as you bounce them gently in your arms – now, Satoru isn’t religious, but that image is his heaven. Burying his length into your cunt, he chokes, letting out a pleasured groan that mixes with your own breathless whine. Soon, the bedroom is filled with the sound of skin slapping against skin as he pounds into you at a desperate pace.
On your end, with every roll of his hips, tears prick your eyes.
This feels wrong.
No, this feels excruciating and terribly hollow. He’s never touched you like this. Sex with Satoru was always passionate, and loving. His hands would always intertwine with yours as he catches your lips in a searing kiss. He’s never like this. His captivating sapphire eyes held a loneliness to them.
As he’s bullying your cunt, you could feel yourself sinking into oblivion.
“Aah–” Satoru groans softly, his forehead pressed against your shoulder as looking at you was so painful for him right now. He doesn’t want to hate you, but he seems unable to love you all the same. What should he do? What can he do?
Suddenly, as he’s approaching his high, his hips melding into yours a little more forcefully and erratically, a dam of tears bursts wide open and you push back against him.
“Mm…’m getting close–ngh—gonna make you a mommy again, all round with my baby, you like that huh?” Satoru lifts your legs to his shoulders, thrusting into your weeping pussy, oblivious to the turmoil in your head. Two seconds ago, you wanted this. Now, you feel like you were gonna be sick at his ramblings of getting you pregnant again.
Fuck. You can’t do that anymore: getting pregnant and being led to believe that by some miracle, you’ll carry to term. Please just make it end.
“Satoru, d-don’t–ngh–p-please stop–”
“Shhh, ah…Y/N…gonna cum…gonna give you my baby—agh–”
He doesn’t seem to hear you. No, he pretends not to hear you outrightly rejecting him.
On your end, you felt like you were dying, with the overwhelming self-loathing in your heart, you couldn't even see Satoru’s desperate effort to restore the normal intimacy you two shared during the early parts of your marriage. But you didn’t care. Satoru didn’t deserve to make love to someone who’s already gone, to stick around for someone who can’t give him the happiness he deserves.
“Satoru, PLEASE STOP!”
“Fuck!” Satoru pulls out mid-thrust. Your heart clenches when he looks like he’s been slapped right across the face. He hastily finishes himself off and upon his release, he groans in frustration. He should have known you’d be this way. And fuck, he was angry at you. He was angry at himself for stupidly hoping that things were gonna get better. “You’re impossible!” he fumed, already pulling on his clothes, ready to abandon you.
“Satoru, wait! Where are you going?!” you pull the blanket to your chest, draping yourself as you follow him to the door.
“Anywhere! Anywhere but here!”
“You’ve never been here!” You accuse him without thinking and instant regret overruns you when Satoru lets out a scoff of disbelief. “Satoru, wait, I’m sorry!”
“Never?” Satoru’s jaw tenses. “What do you mean I wasn’t here?” He’s on the edge of losing it completely now. You had some nerve accusing him of that when he had to pick up the pieces — your pieces, the pieces of this shattered marriage. “Say it again, Y/N. Tell me exactly how I was never here.”
It was wrong of you to say that.
Painful memories begin flashing into your mind like a tragic montage: the uneaten and cold tray of food Satoru would leave outside the guest bedroom for you on the hardest and loneliest days of your life, the many instances he’s had to coax you to get out of bed by taking you to the places the two of you used to love, the countless nights he’s had to hold you, staying awake to hush you when you wake up sobbing from another nightmare.
“Satoru, no, I–I didn’t mean…that…”
He turns around to look you in the eyes, rage seeping through his usually calm ocean orbs. “You didn’t mean that? You sure sounded like you did!” He takes a step towards you, and you inch backwards, drawing your gaze to your feet in shame. “It’s fucking amazing how you don’t ‘mean to’ do anything! You didn’t mean to stand me up during our anniversary date last year too, the same way you didn’t mean to start sleeping in the guest bedroom every night–”
You flinch at the accusation dripping from his voice as he unloads all his heartache on you. “Stop…please stop–”
“And let me guess you didn’t mean to lose our children too!”
Your hand connects with his cheek and Satoru is stunned. Not at your slap. But at the vile words that just left his throat. He stares at you in shock, guilt written all over his face.
“Don’t you dare bring our children into this. You think this has been easy on me? Feeling a little life grow everyday in your womb only for them to just…be gone…one day when you wake up? You don’t know how difficult it is to lose a child!”
“And you don’t know how difficult it is to lose your wife!” Satoru retorts, his voice thick with exhaustion.
His eyes bear the scars of your shared heartbreak. He knows you’ve been struggling. Truly he does. And he wants nothing more than to take all your pain away from you, to spare you from the hell that you’ve been unfairly sentenced to. But why can’t you realize that you aren’t the only wounded party here?
“And you know what hurts the most?” His eyes gleamed with unshed tears, his voice cracking mid-sentence.
His gaze falls to the locket that held a small sonogram picture of your would have been fourth child which you wore everyday.
“I lost our children too. I grieved for them too. But you…you’re still alive but I’m already grieving for you like I've already lost you.”
Satoru doesn’t return to the bedroom again that night and the next morning, you both awake to a wedding portrait that now. sheltered a heartbroken wife’s teardrop stains, and a box full of baby items for disposal packed by a husband who has now, by all intents and purposes, given up.
Satoru slips out to the five star hotel's rooftop for some much needed air. Hopefully none of these pesky journalists saw him on his way here. But that probably just comes with the whole experience of celebrating the conglomerate's tenth anniversary. He finds you in the garden, seated on a bench next to a potted plant. Satoru approaches you quietly, sitting down next to you. "I thought I'd find you up here."
"Hmm? Yeah, it was starting to feel suffocating in there," you chuckled. "I think it was nice of you to choose the Tokyo Children's Hospital as this year's beneficiary," you nudge him lovingly. You were already excited for the upcoming courtesy visit and celebratory turnover of the 20 million yen donation from the Gojo clan's multinational conglomerate.
Satoru plants a loving kiss on your temple, pulling you close to his form, his head resting atop yours. It's been a year since you've gotten married and already, people were already getting antsy for a baby, but maybe none as anxious as your families who are more than excited to have a new little one running around their respective estates. "So, walk me through the event next week. What have you got planned?" he asks you candidly about your plans for the turnover.
"Well, I already contacted a catering company for the children's party, oh and of course, there'll be games and storytelling sessions," you share eagerly. "I even hired a magician and facepainter!"
Satoru hums at your plans. "Of course, it can't be a children's party without some facepainting action."
"You know facepainting isn't limited to children," you flash him an impish grin. Understanding the implication of your words, Satoru immediately shakes his head in adamant refusal. "Oh come on, as the Gojo Group of Companies's chairman, you have to lead by example, right?"
"They aren't my employees!" Satoru laughs. Before you could even pull your signature pout, he pecks your cheek. "But if that's what my wife wants, then, I'll have them paint my pretty white hair too."
You laugh along with him, sighing contentedly at this peaceful moment. "Hey, Satoru? Why don't we...make them a part of the permanent beneficiary list?" you suggest quietly. "I mean, we still have some room for them, right?"
Satoru contemplates the possibility of having the Tokyo Children's Hospital as a permanent beneficiary of the Gojo Group, yet, he agrees nonetheless. "You know what? I don't see why not, I'll be sure to talk to PR about it," he smiles softly. "We can even make it a tradition - having a fun get-together with the kids and their parents." Satoru's heart swells at the idea of one day bringing your own child along to these events, teaching them the importance of being altruistic and compassionate to others. You nod, seemingly sharing his thoughts. "Maybe someday, we can bring our own little one into the mix."
You nod against Satoru's warm embrace with a wistful smile dancing on your lips. "I'd like that. Logistically, it'd be faster for the two of us to distribute the goodie bags if we had an extra little pair of hands."
"It's a plan then," Satoru concurs joyfully.
——————
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࣪ . ִֶָ๋ KINICH: ❝ HEAVEN CAN WAIT. ❞
pairing: kinich x afab!reader (uses she/her) synopsis: during the invasion of the abyss, the bond between you and kinich is put to the test when you're both lost in the chaos searching for eachother, as he fulfills his sacred duty as one of the heroes of Natlan. warnings: spoilers of the 5.1 archon quests! lots of bodily injury + descriptions of gore, the war ingame is described in a darker way here, cursing, many mentions of death. wordcount: 5.4k cho’s notes: PLS SRSLY LISTEN TO THE INJURY WARNING!! i might be a little dramatic but theres an injury here that made me geek when i was writing it idk. this is basically 5.4k words of me pretending to understand the mechanics of the ode of resurrection 😭 i was inspired to write this after playing the 5.1 aq! hope u guys enjoy this, happy reads <3
taglist: @sillywinnertidalwave
Today marked the exact moment the people of Natlan realized that the abyss weren’t just these noisy hilichurls you see camping in the meadows or the occasional mages you’d encounter in the caves; The Abyss was a ruthless cult of monsters with their uniform goal of bringing humanity to its demise.
‘It was never supposed to get this bad.’ was the only thought racing through Kinich's mind as he swung from cliffs to trees as fast as he could, the muscles in his arms feeling like they could rip apart if he swung one more time, his head slightly burning with exhaustion and heart racing with overwhelming pressure.
People were getting massacred on the ground underneath him, as numerous warriors and guards pushed themselves beyond their limit to fend off the neverending wave of rifthounds and hilichurls coming from the illuminating pylons—and he couldn’t do anything about it. Not when everyone and everything needed his aid, all at once.
But Kinich had someone to come home to, and it was you.
The last moment of peace the both of you had together was just earlier today; Sipping coffee and eating fruit together, discussing light subjects to try and distract each other from the rising attacks of the abyss, totally oblivious to the fact that Natlan would be dragged into war by them hours later.
He felt like it was just a minute ago when you sat in front of him, and glowed under the sunlight, slicing apples intricately as your lips spilled words. ‘How could this happen?’ he thought.
The image of you smiling, your face full of faith pulsed in his mind, making his stomach twist when his eyes landed on the village of the Scions of the Canopy; it was on the brink of ruin.
Caravans and carts were being ripped open with the goods spilling onto the ground only to be squashed, children getting dragged by desperate parents, greedy businessmen clawing at their money hoping it would save them, and the scattered limp bodies of innocent natlanese. The sky loomed over everyone’s heads in an eerie color, only amplifying the hopelessness he rarely felt in his chest. The scent of blood and burning ash filled his nostrils the second he violently landed onto the oversized canopy, mildly hurting his ankles in the process.
“Y/n? Y/n!” He called out among the frenzy, his eyes darting to every face he could spot. He got on his heel and started running— desperate that you wouldn’t appear as one of the bodies that were left to rot on the ground.
He raced to your house, and tried to push the door open with no luck. He had no time to care for it, and just slashed through it with his bulky claymore and bursted into the room, his eyebrows knitted together, pupils dilated, cold sweat on his nape. His eyes don’t spot you in your usual leisure spot of your common room, making his heart drop. He checked all other rooms, and finally opened your bedroom:
You weren’t there.
You weren’t anywhere.
His heart hurt with every beat, and he desperately clawed at his chest trying to get back his calm composure he was always known for. But what for?
“Just give it up, that peasant probably turned into abyss food long before you even got here. Stop wasting your time, my time!” Ajaw suddenly hissed out, his words filling kinich’s mind with poison.
Imaginations of your body growing limp and cold, face turning blue, and blood oozing out from some part of your body as rifthounds dug through your flesh flashed through his head. And he tried to stop it. But with the spinning of his head and the lifelessness of your house that was once so full with your laughter, it just kept getting worse.
He stood with a lowered head, his hand gripping his claymore so tight his knuckles turned white. He fought back tears as his mind danced like a kaleidoscope. To him, there would be no use in saving Natlan, if you weren’t in the picture.
He was supposed to not let his will in defeating the abyss sway at all, you wouldn’t want that. No one would want that. He doesn’t either. But now faced with the odds that you might not be able to experience a Natlan that is finally free from centuries of prejudice, after you’ve been by his side telling him to have faith that the day will come, and the dreams you want to accomplish when everything is finally okay— It seemed unfair. SO unfair.
He whispers to himself, or rather to anything who was willing to listen, with a shaky voice: “If only one wish of mine can be granted for my whole lifetime, please.. Keep her safe. That’s all I ask.”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
The clashing of weapons against the shelled skin of the abyss monsters zipped through the air, as you swiftly dodged the claws of a relentless rifthound; you’ve been doing this for hours now.
You were helping your tribe, the Scions of the Canopy, strengthen its defenses before the outbreak until you were called by a messenger to help strengthen defenses of an adventurer’s base southeast of the village as it was being easily overwhelmed by the enemies. As the head of preparing defenses from the village, you happily obliged.
But now you were almost hours into battle, with your body aching in all different spots, as you tried your best to continue evading the insistent attacks of numerous monsters. You couldn’t find the energy to swing your sword with maximum strength anymore, so all you could muster up was to dodge them.
“Fuck! Will you ever quit!?” you yell, before pushing yourself beyond your limits again, attacking with frustration. You slashed through the tough skin of the rifthound with your dendro-infused blade, making it dissipate into purple smoke with a screeching growl before fading into the air.
You had a second for a breather and took a deep breath, which you regretted immediately. “ugh!” you cried, falling to your knees, grabbing your side. You recall the moment you heard something snap when a hilichurl swung its wooden baton at your side when you were busy confronting a different monster. You broke your rib, and it was now piercing your lung.
You stared into the dirt, forehead collecting sweat. You took your hand off of your side, seeing blood paint your palm a deep scarlet. You touched your forehead, and brought your hand back to your eyes— You were bleeding. everywhere.
Your eyes sting with tears, the reality of the situation slowly setting into your head— The chances of you leaving this battlefield alive was slim. Your teeth press against your bottom lip tightly, the pain being incomparable to the injuries you’ve sustained.
‘I’m sorry kinich.’ echoed in your mind. Kinich had been training you recently, for you to be ready in case of an invasion and he wasn’t there to protect you. But here you are, head-first onto the ground, realizing you’ll probably die in the next few minutes.
‘I’m sorry kinich.. I’m not built for this.’ you whimpered, tears slowly trickling down your face. You felt so heavy with hopelessness, you felt like you could start sinking into the solid dirt beneath your body.
It wasn’t supposed to end like this. You were only supposed to continue helping people fend off the abyss for a few more days, until the Pyro Archon solved the crisis. And after she did, you would’ve explored places outside of Natlan with Kinich. Sumeru was the first region you both agreed to visit; It was always a dream that you shared together to travel all of Teyvat one day. Hell, you even had a hunch he’d propose to you somewhere down the line of your voyage.
So why are you kneeling on the floor, bleeding from every possible corner of your body, accepting your demise as your comrades slowly thin in number?
‘How long do I have to keep this up? I feel like if I swing my sword one more time, my arms will come flying off. I can’t do it anymore. This is something only strong people can do. Strong people like kinich. I can’t. I just can’t. I ca-’
Woosh!, Your ears picked up the sound and you jumped to your feet, barely escaping the blade of an enormous mitachurl that almost claimed your head.
You tumbled lightly onto the ground, before you hold your sword up again with both your hands, your limbs trembling hopelessly in the gaze of the towering monster over you with demonic horns. You almost drop your blade and just let it kill you right then and there.
But kinich appeared in your thoughts.
The mitachurl was standing the way the dummy kinich built for you was. Kinich’s voice instructing you rippled in your thoughts: “swing your sword down to the left, diagonal to the body. Then, slice up to the right, also diagonally. For the final blow, strike straight down the crown of its head, taking force from your shoulders. ”
You listen to kinich on repeat a few times, drawing imaginary lines on the body of the scowling mitachurl that stomped closer to you. You gulped the lump in your throat, before you did exactly what kinich taught you.
You twist your body with your edge in the air, taking a (painful) deep breath before swinging your blade to the left in a declining path. The mitachurl stumbles back at your sudden strike making an mmgh! sound, breaking down some of its armor. You quickly slice back up in the opposite direction before it could react any further. Your shoulder burned with every twist, but you had to keep going.
As it stumbled one more time, You bring your weapon above your head, and ignite it with dendro, causing a deep green aura to emit from your person. You meet eyes with the monster; It looked horrified. You stood there ready to take its life, appearing like a monster yourself with the blood that dripped down your head, your eyes seething with revenge.
You spare no more time before completely slicing straight down its head with maximum precision. A loud growl slowly faded with the noise, just as its body did, turning into a dark smoke.
“If my life is going to end with this battle, then please grant my final wish—” You whispered, looking at your blood-stained hands, hoping the heavenly principles could hear your wish among the deafening sound of war:
“—Please.. Keep kinich safe for me.”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
The people seeking refuge in a temporary hideout turn their heads at the noise of their beloved heroes walking into the space. ‘Baraka’ Xilonen, ‘Umoja’ Mualani, ‘Uwezo’ Iansan, ‘Bidii’ Ororon, and ‘Vuka’ Chasca. There was only one more hero missing.. ‘Malipo’ Kinich.
Kinich had just rounded up civilians he saved from the village, and brought them there for safety. His gaze met with his friends, before he carefully placed a baby he was protecting into the arms of its mother— The baby had your eyes, which gravitated him into holding it just a little longer. He walked over to them with heavy steps, still trying to keep his composure despite the pain weaving his insides; just like them.
“It’s the final phase of mavuika’s plan. We have to get back to the stadium, and help her with the Ode of Resurrection.” Xilonen says. “Can you do it?”
It’s not like he had any other choice so he just nodded, not being able to muster up the strength to talk.
“Kinich.. Did something happen?” Mualani asked, taking notice of his silence as she placed her hand on his shoulder in support. It was clear she was just as broken down as he was, covered in bruises and scratches. But she continued to stay strong and pulled an empathetic look for him, trying to get his lowered eyes to meet hers.
“I.. couldn’t find y/n.” Kinich barely mumbled, the dread he felt earlier coming back to him, feeling like it only got worse verbalizing it. His eyes stuck to the ground, refusing to peel away.
The five heroes suddenly feel the air grow thick, a gasp leaving Iansan and Mualani's lips. This reaction only made the feeling worse, his fingertips digging into his palm. ‘Why does it have to turn out like this? I don’t fucking get it. It’s unfair. Not fair. Not fair to me, to her.’
The five struggled to find words to say, but ajaw quickly filled the space, spitting out: “Fear not lowly humans! For when Kinich finally slips in this final fight and accidentally ends up kicking the bucket, I, the almighty dragonlord, k’uhul ajaw! Will reign over this world once more! And the abyss will no longer be the biggest threat Natlan has faced!” The 8-bit monster laughed proudly with its jagged voice.
Kinich suddenly snapped at the puny dragon: “Zip it ajaw. Let’s go.” before stepping out of the hideout. The heroes gave each other glances, before silently following after him. They weren’t scared of kinich releasing ajaw, they knew kinich would never do that to them. But it was him they were worried about.
Kinich never handled loss well. It often resulted in.. Accidents. Towards himself.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
You continued to fight your way to survival, the dendro vision hanging by your hip flashing every few seconds. You shifted your focus to destroy nearby pylons. Your hands had bruised, and slowly became callused and firm. The amount of blood loss you’ve endured has slowly started affecting you too, as your actions started getting sloppier, following your sight getting hazy from time to time.
‘Ching!’ You sliced through the last mitachurl around— atleast, last one before another one spawns—and fell to your battered knees. You sat there, gasping, your body begging for air.
“Y/n!” a fellow comrade called out, rushing to your side. You can hear him mumbling something to you, but it’s incoherent. You looked at your dirty, bloodied hands, ‘what an ugly sight.’
“Just.. keep pushing on y/n.” his words sound muffled to you and almost accompanied with sand; he’s losing hope too.
Without warning, a bright beam of light suddenly shot up into the air, emerging from somewhere in the distance.
‘Huh?’ You look up.
The ray of light exploded into a star, making you wince at the glare. The explosion was so grand, you felt the earth tremble all around you, and even felt a slight radiance of heat reach your skin, even when it was suspended so close to the stars.
The warriors and monsters’ brawl comes to a pause, all beings turning their heads to the magic unfolding above their heads.
You look back up once more. It’s the Pyro Archon.
“In the name of the Pyro Archon, Haborym,” the transcendent voice sends chills down your spine.
“I declare the Night Warden Wars underway—”
“—The Ode of Resurrection will guard all life, until the war is over!”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Kinich might’ve lost his mind.
With the Ode of Resurrection, there was nothing in his way to contain the blood rushing through his veins anymore, the flame pumping his drive. There was no limit to the blood he could pour, no limit to the bones he could snap, no limit to the wounds he could take; There was no more life that kept him from death, and no death to threaten him to life.
He shot himself through the trees and cliffs and plunged into the ground, slashing right into an abyssal pylon, immediately shattering it into pieces. The abyss that caught sight of his unhinged eyes, became the last thing they saw. He swung his blade relentlessly, calculated with maximum precision embedded into every strike. Every blow he landed would end a life point-blank, not wasting a single movement. No monster could keep up with the speed of his assault, their death delivered to them in a blur.
A hilichurl had taken an open opportunity to stab him right through the heart from behind. He felt the flame inside him flicker for a second.
‘Again.’
He ripped the double sided polearm right out of his chest, before skewering the same hilichurl right through its chest with the same weapon. A cryo mage quickly sent icicles to penetrate through his limbs and vital organs. He felt the coldness pierce into his insides, feeling the flame inside him flicker for a second time.
‘Again.’
He swiftly turned around, and spun his claymore right into the mage, beheading it in the process. The mage had evaporated to its death, as his claymore spun right back into his palm, snug as a glove. A hilichurl decided to charge into his tall figure and stab him with a dagger, puncturing his abdomen. His flame flickered for the third time.
‘Again.’
He sliced down on the hilichurl, making it dissipate into the air with a groan. He pulled out the dagger from his body and carelessly threw it onto the ground. Noticing the area was clear, he flung himself back into the air, swinging himself through the thick trees and long branches. They would momentarily graze his skin, cutting and wounding him but it was nothing to him, not anymore.
His void eyes scanned through the rocky terrain underneath his feet, searching for your figure. ‘You have to be here. Somewhere. Anywhere.’ His thoughts of you distracted him from an incoming tree, before flying straight into its tree branch, his body getting skewered in the process. He let out a loud cry of agony— “aaghh!”—, hearing static ringing in his ears. His bewildered eyes landed at exactly where he got impaled before feeling his head go fuzzy, his eyes slowly losing light, and his body going limp. He feels his flame flickering once more.
‘Again.’
Life is shot right back into him as he braced himself again, taking a deep breath, and pulling himself off of the tree branch. His injury immediately punished him, making him wince. He took one last look at the tree branch covered in his gore before swinging himself again. He looked at the gaping hole in his abdominal cavity slowly patch and fill itself again, and for a moment he’s completely mesmerized by the power of the ode of resurrection.
In his mind, he punished himself for not being by your side, for not protecting you. And his mode of punishment would be feeling your misery over and over again. The sensation of burning pain ending up to his death just to wake up again completely alive again all in a split second was intoxicating. He was preserving life, as he toyed with his own.
In his mind, he would rather die a million deaths than find out he’d be alive without you around.
“Listen to me bastard! I’m starting to appreciate this new thing you got going on, you know, like actually following your master, me, Almighty dragonlord, K’uhul Ajaw! and using your vision for something exhilarating like ending lives. But I HATE! how i’m getting excited to take your body everytime you go floppy, but you just wake back up! It’s so ANNOYING!! So just keep it up until the fire-head woman turns the ode of what-ever-you-call-it off, and you stay dead. Alright!?”
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Mavuika looked longingly onto her people fighting for their nation underneath her feet, as she levitated in the dark sky. It was a surreal simulation to her; It was her that was the catalyst for their dreams and hopes. It left a deep impression of justice, duty and pressure on her.
Mavuika took a deep breath, before feeling a surging power slither all throughout her body.
‘This has to end, now.’
She collected all the dreams her people have relayed to her, the hopes for a future guided with justice and equality, their ancestors and their prayers for Natlan, the lives of her beloved followers who had been sacrificed and martyred, into her fist and made it into her strength.
Her hair ignited into its flamed form, as she shot out all the might and glory of Natlan into a beam of radiance, targeting the abyssal body that was the sole cause of terror over her nation.
The Celestial body forms a temporary glowing shield to stand its ground, until it doesn’t.
It slowly starts shattering like thin glass, making her attack on it only more powerful. Her thrash breaks through until it exploded into a dark fume, her light piercing right through it and into the distant sky. The sky carries the sound of the thundering explosion, shaking nature all around.
The black cloud slowly starts fading, revealing the eradication of the Abyss.
The black sky lifts off of Natlan, revealing the blue once more. You choked out the blood that’s been pouring in your mouth for the longest time as you finally finish off the last creature in sight. The Abyss had been eliminated by the Pyro Archon, and no more would spawn. Dulled and scratched swords, torn bows, and unfortunate martyrs polluted the grassy field around. The noise of battle could still be heard somewhere distant but not around you anymore.
You spat and coughed out blood onto your palm, your other hand clawing and digging into your chest trying to calm your rampaging heartbeat. You heard your remaining comrades cry and yell out of grief and solace. The words they yelled were incoherent, only being able to hear ringing.
But you could almost make out what they're saying, somewhere along the lines of: ‘It’s over.’
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Kinich’s eyelids slowly peel open, feeling the heat of the sun greet his eyes immediately making him wince. He sits up and tries to gain back his senses, letting out a sore groan.
Ajaw perches up at the sound, and starts roaring in his ear: “You were supposed to be dead! I was so thrilled to finally take over your cold body, finally thinking of the horrors I'd run to this land, just to find our contract not working! Just bite the dust already you useless asparagus! Curse the archons!”
“Wh-what happened?” Kinich croaked, his throat stinging him in the process. Completely ignoring ajaw’s tantrum, he looks at the nature around him; There were dismantled weapons, a few dead bodies scattered meters apart, and an awful lot of silence.
“The fire-head woman destroyed the abyss in the sky, and the magical thing happening to your body that stopped you from dying stopped, and you just crashed into the mountain side and passed out onto the ground. Your head should’ve caved in! Fucking imbecile!”
Kinich stares at the state of his body; It was a disaster. His jacket was torn with all sorts of holes, his arms full of scars and dried blood and smeared dirt, his gloved hands having numerous rips and tears. All of his digits were present, but a huge scar trailed over the joints of his thumb. ‘So I lost a finger huh?’ he guessed to himself. He looks at his headband dangling around his neck, and feels his face with his hand. He felt a few scars and winces at a cut he had, realizing he had a gaping wound that was actively bleeding out.
Body intact, clothes and weapon secured, with his heart beating in his chest cavity.
But something was still missing. Something was out of place.
He feels his heart drop to the ground, mumbling: “Y/n.”
He hurriedly turns around and tries to run on his feet, a sharp pain kicking into his legs making him fall back onto the soil. He curls into a ball, suddenly feeling all his muscles tormenting his body at once. He groans in pain, feeling parts of his body ache and burn under his skin.
“Yes! Perish!” Ajaw shrieks, making kinich swat at him. He takes a cramped breath— almost like the capacity of his lungs had shrunk— before digging his hands into the sharp blades of grass, dragging his body through the earth.
Each pull of his body made him wish he wasn’t human, pain electrocuting each living cell in his body. Grunts slipped through his teeth, as he tried not to notice the torture he had been enduring for what has felt like forever. He despised the pain he could feel as he crawled not because it hurt him, but because it was proof he was alive and could use his senses. That would remind him that you might not be, only making the weight of his chest heavier.
Red from his wound dripped down his head and slipped onto his lip, making him spit it out bitterly.
The silvery of blood was inferior to the bitterness in his mouth if he felt your body without its heart beating against his own. Ajaw slowly follows him in the air a meter away, and is almost horrified. Ajaw that day, saw humanity in its most desperate state.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
“Let me go!” You yelled, trying to break free from the arms of the other scions of the canopy. They had tried convincing you to go to the village and get your injuries treated, but they mentioned kinich was missing. You heard glass shattering in your ears, almost reality to your eyes breaking just the same. You escaped their captive and tried to find kinich, but they had caught up to you easily.
“You don’t understand! You might die out of blood loss before you even find him!” Said one of the nurses, gripping your wrist tightly. “I have to try!” You snapped, shoving and kicking at the men trying to get a holding of your legs.
“And what if kinich is dead y/n!?” A man retorted, making you freeze in your spot. Words got stuck in your throat, as your eyes blurred for a second. “Kinich would never.. be..” you feel your tongue stiffen, your knees slowly sinking back onto the grass. The men among the helpers quietly argue behind you, scolding each other with ‘don’t say that!’ as your thoughts slowly dim your spirit.
‘Kinich? Dead?’ the thought of kinich dying seemed so far and impossible to you. It was always kinich who seemed to prevent harm from going your way, and knew how to deal with injuries or how to get out of risky situations. But not even the strongest warriors of Natan's ancient tales survived against the toughest attacks of the abyss. You feel like vomiting, the imagination of kinich mangled body suddenly tormenting your thoughts. ‘I still have to try’, you interrupted yourself, reminiscing the oath you took between the both of you to never abandon his side, dead or alive.
You quickly try to pounce off of them, but they're quicker into getting ahold of you again. You try your hardest to tear through their grasp, feeling your skin ache as they tighten their hand around you.
“Please! Just let me try!” you cry out, almost freeing yourself. They object in volumes, a series of ‘No!’s and ‘You need to rest!’ leaving their mouths. You almost feel helpless, but the group of five freeze all together, out of nowhere.
Their eyes are wide, dilated. Their mouths agape, skin draining of color.
You turn your eyes the same direction as theirs, and a sudden chill waves all throughout your body.
It’s kinich.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
Kinich locks eyes with you, his breath hitching. Almost terrified you’ll disappear in front of his eyes, he doesn’t waste another second and sprints towards you on his feet, ignoring the sharp pain afflicted to his ligaments. The tribespeople quickly free you from their clutches, stepping back as your aching bodies collided into an embrace.
Everyone else disappears from his world as he takes you into his dirtied arms. His body melt into yours, leaving no space for the opportunity of separation between both of you ever again. He feels you trembling underneath his touch making him hold you tighter. “I’m home.” He whispers into your ear, feeling a weight lift off of his shoulders, like bulky armor sliding off of his battered frame— He had died a hundred times to tell you those words.
He can hear you; you're crying into his shoulder, salty tears reviving the scent of the dried blood on his clothes. All he can do is hold you, and take refuge back into your arms after leaving them for what seemed like an eternity. His heart is communicating with yours, beating back and forth at each other. “I was looking for you.” You mumbled against his skin, lips quivering. Your voice is hesitant, as you pull away and look into his tired dark-golden eyes.
“You never lost me in the first place.” He whispers, planting a delicate kiss to your cheek, placing your nimble hand on the left side of his chest to feel evidence of his return. His arms felt lighter, his bones seemed to unbreak, and his wounds were no longer burning. His eyes slowly stickled with tears, burying his face into your hair to let out his shy tears before you had the chance to notice.
His body grew vulnerable under your touch as your tears slowly undid the knot of grief residing in his chest. He almost feels himself shrink back to when he was a lonely child as your mere presence invited the fragile parts of him to be loved again.
His soul yearns for moment like this, where your love is presented raw; It was never about just the beauty. He thawed under your touch even when his clothes and body was drab and scarred. It was never about just the mora, his wallet was no longer weighing in his pocket and he knew that he didn't have to worry about it. It was never about just the distance, it didn't matter if he had to crawl from mondstadt, he still would've tried to come home even if he knew he would die along the way. and it was never about the festivity. he didn't need a festival to celebrate in a way of holding you like he is now. It was always about the bond between both of you and how much joy his heart is beating out just because he can count the beats of yours.
To him, his soul is bound with yours. No matter how far his heroship takes him, he’ll always return to you. For him, that was enough of a reason to come crawling home.
Kinich escaped heaven a hundred times to come home to you. For you, he would’ve gladly left a hundred times more.
🎕 ‧₊˚ ⋅
You relish his embrace with tears sticking your lashes together when your mind slowly floats you away to a distant memory, one you feel like you should have forgotten by now.
It was so long ago.. 7 years ago or so?
It happened somewhere.. Here?
With someone.. Kinich.
You were younger teenagers with kinich that time. You had tripped down a short rocky fall while traversing grassy terrain with kinich. A wince squeaks through your gritted teeth, as he poured water onto the gash you scored on your stumbling. “I’ve always told you to stay sharp when we go out on a walk, but you never listen.” He grumbles, wiping off the dirt that trailed down your calf. “..And everytime you trip, it’s always me who has to clean you up, bandage you, and carry you home.” He treated your wound as you sat on a rock, awkwardly playing with your fingertips.
You can tell he was just worried about you, you always managed to injure yourself when he took his eyes off of you. He was already pressured on finding a way home, but you just had to go get your knee busted. “Sorry.” you mumble, heat rising to your skin out of embarrassment. “If you really were sorry, you would actually look before you land your feet.” he said bitterly, undoing his bandana, and wrapping it around your knee tightly. As he tightened the knot, he said: “You know I won't always be around to protect you right?”
“Yeah..” you shuffle your feet around. “But I-i swear I looked before I stepped okay! But the dip was.. was hiding under all the grass.” You attempt to defend yourself, looking at him with guilt written all over your face.
“Can you just promise me you’ll make heaven wait when I'm not around?” He sighs, before helping you get back on your feet, his arm snaking around your waist, as he scooped your shoulder over his shoulder. “Only if you promise too!” you scoff. He rolls his eyes, “As if I'll ever die before you. Seriously, one day I might just be running a commission and bump into you just bleeding to death from your knee.” you grimace under the thought. “Don’t say such horrible things!”
“Then promise me.” “..I promise.”
#▸ ✧ ˚ services#genshin impact#genshin impact fanfic#genshin impact kinich#kinich x reader#kinich malipo#kinich x you#kinich fanfic#kinich imagines#genshin oneshots#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x you
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What if instead of waking up in the mushroom body, sqq woke up in a doll.
Something something while lbh was away in the abyss, sqq without noticing offended a misterious (demonic-succubi-esque???) cultivator with a weird thing for making dolls. She had dolls all over her secret workshop that she very kindly let him into when she heard about the famous Xiu Ya sword being in the city.
What she wanted of him? Who knows, sqq couldn't bring himself to care. She probably wanted his money or try to steal his hair, the hair of those dolls seemed very much like real hair, although he had to admit the level of details on these dolls were amazing.
(she wanted to trick him into buying one of her cursed dolls and steal his life energy little by little, but got wifebeamed by widow sqq during their conversation about how talented she was to be able to make so many dolls, and without really understanding he rejected her with little to no emotion on his face)
So she cursed him, and since sqq didn't feel anything bad at the moment he thought it just didn't work and left, not sparing the curse a single thought after their encounter.
The rest of the story goes as usual, excep that after he self detonates his soul doesn't go into the mushroom body, instead it got directly into the shape of a doll in the workshop of this woman.
His first thought is thinking someone snitched the mushroom body bc wtf wasn't he supposed to wake up under the dirt??? Why this place smells slightly familiar? Like paint and humidity and floral perfumes?? and why everything looks fucking giganourmus?!?! A teapot should NOT look that big from his position....Oh no, did the mushroom body turned out as small as a squirrel? WhAT is happening?!
And then he looks at his arms and legs, and he has joints. White paper skin with joints in his wrists, elbows, torso, waist, knees, feet. And he panics, a lot.
The woman who cursed him starts monologuing about how she trapped him now, and you are mine, I made this doll specially for you master shen, this is my revenge for your insolence to leave me yada yada- Sqq stoped listening a while ago.
Somehow he manages to escape from this woman and now he is roaming around as the size of some apples. Everything is huge. Everything is dangerous, even the grasshopers! And this body is fragile! He can't feel heat nor cold, neither hunger or other things, but he is useless with no spiritual veins inside, and if someone is not looking carefully, they might crush him. And the way back to cq is gonna be a hell of a trip! But he needs airplane to fix this. He can't stay as a doll forever! He needs a mushroom body and then fly into the sunset far from this mess! Adiós! Goodbye! So his new plan is to infiltrate into cang qiong, look for that rat and disappear. Sneaking into some disciple's pouch must be enough to break in.
Something something it only had passed a few months since lbh stole sqq's body and everything is still very fresh. CQ mountain is a hot mess. Sqh frankly needs to lay down and take a nap. Lqg keeps figthing with Lbh practially every day and coming back beaten bloody, he has his king pestering him and a lot of paperwork to do, Lbh is a pain in the ass, Yqy is really close to snap and start a war with HHP, and he knows nothing about his bro. So yeah. Such a great time to be alive.
The mushroom bodies should had been ready, right? He must be alright...Yeah. He has enough already to keep him busy. Cucumber bro is gonna come out and stumble across at any moment. No one would bat an eye if he takes a nap, right? He deserves it. He is overworked enough for another lifetime, his head hurts, his bones hurt everywhere, a short nap should be fine...
Until he feels something small tugging his robes and a cold tiny finger poking his eyelids. But he doesn't want to. He is very comfortable on the floor of his office. Whatever bird decided to pick a fight with his face can keep trying.
"AIRPLANE, WAKE UP, YOU HACK! I NEED YOU TO FIX THIS! WHY IS A WITCH WITH ANACHRONISTIC HAUNTED DOLLS IN THIS NOVEL? THIS IS ALL YOUR FAULT!"
That voice. That fucking annoying voice was of just one person and one person only. He opened his eyes, looking for the source of the unmistakable voice of his No1 hater, but he came across with a pretty porcelain doll. With a very ugly sneer in it's face.
"W-Wha-?...Bro-?!"
"Fucking finally! Why are you sleeping on the floor in your ofice?! I was looking around your bedroom like an idiot! Do you know how close I was to falling from your window?!"
-TBC-
#svsss#shen qingqiu#人渣反派自救系统#I don't have a lot about this au bc I just imagined it today#shen yuan in a doll body au#I still need to reach lbh#oh boy that is a can of worms idk if im prepared to open#so any idea of how to progress the story is welcome#since he would be still in his strongest shock and denial#what if sqh has to bring sqq along w him to hhp bc he has there all his plans and secret stuff idk#or to use any hhp treasure or smt#too many posibilites and imma sleep#wip#shang qinghua#I got this idea while watching Barbie
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warning(s): MDNI, sexual contents, mental breakdown, ANGST.
Watching Simon hold another woman the same way he used to hold you. Anyone?
Summoning what little courage is left, you stand up and begin retracing their invisible footprints, making your way towards the backdoor. As you pushed it open, you were greeted by the sight of a dark, empty alley, with your ragged breath as the only sound.
But when you reached the other end of the alley, the silence faded away as hushed whispers and soft sounds filled the air. Alarms went off in the back of your head—it only meant one thing—but you ignored it. Instead, you slowed your steps, hiding behind the crumbling brick wall, and peeked around the corner.
There they were. Simon and the woman, locked in a deep, passionate kiss. His body pressed against hers as she wrapped her legs around his waist in a way that made your stomach churn. The hands you knew so well cupped her jaw like he did to you as he dragged his lips down her exposed neck. Just like he did to you.
A strangled sound escaped your mouth; you covered it to prevent another. You felt your eyes burning, yet you couldn’t tear your gaze away from the show. Spare me, your heart begged, yet you let your ears continue to listen to them.
The sound of a zipper being lowered cuts through the air. Simon lifted her dress, and you watched in morbid fascination as he snapped his hips forward. She lets out a loud moan. Your head throbbed, the pulsing pain matching the rapid beating of your heart. The burn inside you was almost unbearable, and you felt your breath shortening, vision blurring as you grew lightheaded.
You couldn’t bear to watch anymore. With shaking limbs, you walk away from them. The acid reaches your throat—the next second, you're hunched over, vomiting onto the cold, hard concrete.
And suddenly, everything feels like a fever dream—a repetitive loop that leaves you feeling both light and heavy. You exist, but you don't really exist; you're breathing, but you're not really breathing. The cobblestones stare back at you, their edges thickened, spreading like black blood. Beside them, your hands are shaking, and when you turn them over, you realize they’ve always been this way—open, fingers stretched to their maximum.
Like they're grasping for something out of reach.
Here you are.
Surrounded by unfamiliar buildings in an even more unfamiliar city. Yet, the hollowing abyss within you is anything but a stranger. In truth, it's probably all you've truly known throughout your entire life before you dared to believe you could become something beyond this yawning emptiness—the chasm where every ounce of love and all the things you've held dear have been mercilessly flushed away.
When you sob again, you choke. Gravel scrapes your skin as you kneel down, resembling a devout soul pleading to the heavens. It isn't devotion that drives your supplications, but rather fear—and perhaps that's why your fervid entreaties never find an answer.
“Why did you let that man walk away?”
Change the prophecy, change the prophecy, you beg. Make him love me, let him love me.
(But, is it his love you truly seek, or simply the proof that it brings?
Or is it a bit of both?)
Surrounded by unfamiliar buildings in an even more unfamiliar city, you taste the saltiness of your own tears on your lips. Release me. Release me from this pain—from this curse. Make him love me. Prove me right, prove herwrong. All these demands, and yet, the voracious pain continues to spread like an all-consuming malady.
It gave you an open eye.
How pathetic you must’ve looked—like a crumpled, wretched thing, curled on the dirty sidewalk while Simon was still there in the alley, digging his fingers into the hips of another woman. You could almost feel it—the phantom of his touch, the sounds he used to make. You knew he would kiss her just as he had kissed you—he would make her feel good, the way he had always made you feel.
And you knew—you just knew—that she would fall for him, just as you had.
But this time, he would love her back.
Because she wasn’t you.
[sneak peek of chapter 12 of "A MAN'S HEART IS TRULY A WRETCHED, WRETCHED THING.". FULL VERSION OUT NOW.]
#𐙚 — a man's heart is truly a wretched wretched thing#simon ghost riley x reader#simon riley x reader#ghost x reader#simon riley x fem reader#x reader#reader insert#cod men x reader#cod x reader#call of duty men x reader#call of duty x reader#simon riley angst#simon ghost riley angst#simon riley x reader angst#simon riley x reader fluff#simon riley smut
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July 13th, 1917
Be it from a sense of paternal concern or simply patriotic duty, Arthur made sure to leave his soldiers in the charge of an older Corporal and made his way to the quite pathetic excuse of a medical section where his son was left to rot.
Arthur had heard about the attack. He had been informed the day prior.
He had seen war and famine and sickness, but never like this. Arthur wasn't young, in any sense, and what wonders and strong political oppinions young men had, had left him a long time ago like a ship leaving the harbour in a hury to claim new land. This though, had left shock echoing within his tired, millenia old frame. He wasn't used to this.
Arthur made his way through the trenches with soldiers from every corner of the globe instantly stopping whatever they were doing prior and saluting him as if etiquette and rank mattered in hell. As if it was more importaint to greet the Higher ups than to survive long enough to even write a letter back to family. Arthur did understand that though. Routine and rules were the only thing keeping these poor and wretched souls from being consumed by thoughts of an imminent death.
The path to the section where Matthew was held was quite straightforward and quite familiar. He had marched to and from it hundreds of times and had a sort of automatic rithm in his step. Arthur made his way to the small and damp room with a fast pace indicative of familiarity, only to stop in his tracks in the shabbily built doorframe at the sight that awaited him in the corner.
Matthew sat in the corner of the sad makeshift medical section of the trenches, his back firm against the cold, damp wall.
His once-piercing blue-grey eyes were now clouded over with milky white cataracts, rendering him completely blind. The newly used gas had stolen his sight. His skin, once tanned and healthy, now bore the sickly pallor of a much older man who had endured unimaginable suffering.
Matthew's uniform, discarded in favour of his worn down undershirt, was now a tattered and stained relic of his time in the trenches. The not-white-anymore shirt clung to his emaciated frame as if decency still mattered in hell. The physical toll of the war was clear on his body. Not that Matthew would have to worry about seeing that any time soon. His hands, which had once held a rifle with resolve, now trembled even while resting on his thighs.
Despite his physical and emotional anguish, Matthew remained seated upright, his back pressed against the unforgiving, stained wall. A testament to his resilience if there was any left, a silent protest against the horrors that had taken his sight and left him broken in body and spirit.
As he sat there, his spirit reduced to a hollow shell, Matthew's face bore a mixed expression of utter defeat and complete indifference. His lips were drawn into a thin, lifeless line, and his cheeks were gaunt from the weight of his suffering. His blank, unseeing eyes stared into the abyss, as if waiting for answers and also hoping they'd never arrive.
In that moment, Matthew was not a representation of Canada; he was a young man who had been scarred and broken by the senseless brutality of war. The trenches around him buzzed with activity, but he remained isolated in his silent world of darkness and despair. The young medics job was done. He had patched Matthew up and left him to his own misery. Matthew was grateful.
Arthur stood there silently under the doorframe for what seemed like hours, but was probably only a few seconds. A strange and unfamiliar twinge of emotion plucked and pulled on his conscience. He hadn't felt guilt in quite some time. This feeling was reserved for drunken nights spent in solitude with the doors to the room he resided in firmly locked so that his sliver of self-deprecating emotion wasn't witnessed by any but himself, while he drunk himself to unconsciousness.
He preferred the emotional solitude to this.
Arthur had believed himself to be capable of most things. Especially conversation and confrontation. He was quite good at those as centuries of existence had proved. He believed himself quite skilful with words. Most of the time he knew what to say and when to say it without it resulting in unwanted and unforeseen consequences, while still making sure his opinion was heard.
Arthur had no words forming as he stood in that doorframe. If Arthur was a good man, his reasoning would be that he felt such strong empathy and sadness that words wouldn't be enough to express the sorrow he felt at that moment. If Arthur was a good man he'd run to his son, assure him that this wouldn't happen ever again and that he was safe. If Arthur was a good man he would fall on his knees in front of his oldest son and beg for forgiveness.
Arthur wasn't a good man.
He could admit to his shortcomings, but to act on them was not in his nature.
So he stood there for another 5 or 6 minutes watching his son shallowly breathe in and out, hearing the boys lungs struggle to keep up with his muscles contraction and need for air.
He must have made a noise, as Matthew's head tilted slightly to the left, almost looking at Arthur but definitely not seeing him. Arthur looked back at him.
The room was quiet, save for the desperate plea of Matthews lungs to be put out of their misery.
Sensing nothing after a few moments, Matthew turned his head back towards the blank wall ahead.
Arthur silently turned his frame around and slowly started walking the path he had taken to get here. As he took a few steps, he released the breath he didn't know he was holding.
How he longed for that whiskey bottle and that dark room where he could lock himself in and slowly drift out of consciousness instead of facing his own mistakes.
Arthur definitely was not a good man.
#ooof i had a field day with this one#father son drama ugh sighn me the fuck up#arthur is def not a good man im sorry to the england stans but he isnt#he lives his kids but he is not a good man#he would take a bullet for his kids bur he is not a good man#hetalia#hws england#hws canada#myart#my art#historical hetalia#my writing#arthur kirkland#matthew williams#hetalia fanfiction
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Baby, It's Cold Outside
Living in Japan, you were used to people’s negative perceptions of your tattoos. An old man giving you a world-class stink-eye was more common than rain on a cloudy day, and those views were only compounded by the insular Jujutsu Sorcerer society you found yourself working in….. But what would the famous 7:3 Sorcerer think?
Pairing: Nanami Kento x afab!reader
Rating: Explicit (18+ minors DNI)
Word Count: 4k
Warnings: Brief canon-typical violence, brief hurt/comfort, smut, inappropriate use of a cursed technique, you know what you're here for
A/N: Major thanks to @pseudowho for being so wonderful and encouraging. You should all go read her brilliant fics if you haven't yet!!
Click here to join my re-vamped taglist!
You hadn’t officially met the 7:3 Sorcerer until you were assigned a very lengthy mission together. Still, as soon as you started to learn about him from others at Jujutsu High, you knew your tattoos had to stay hidden at all costs.
Gojo, a man world-famous for understating things, had described Nanami as “a bit of a grump sometimes,” and you had even seen poor Ijichi nearly in tears at the thought of disappointing the severe blonde. So, in other words, you were right fucked. At the very least, you planned to hide the tattoos so you could make it through the next few weeks without aggravating your partner every time he laid eyes on you.
You saw Nanami briefly on the day before your mission, and the suited man cut such a clean, no-nonsense figure that you were certain of two things. First, he would absolutely hate the ink on your skin. Second, you’d simply pass away from embarrassment if the achingly handsome man ever had a negative remark about the sentimental art.
Under normal circumstances, you wouldn’t even bat an eye at someone’s poor opinion of you- actually, you’d probably respond with a cheeky grin and a crude gesture- but Nanami was different. He was respected and loved by so many other sorcerers despite his serious nature, and he was infuriatingly attractive. No man had ever been more your type; at some point, you considered going to a shrine to interrogate the gods about when they read your grade-school diary because Kento was the golden-haired prince of your dreams.
Thankfully, it was the middle of winter, and all the forecasts called for was endless snow.
“Even the weather is on my side,” you murmured cheerfully as you packed for the mission, dutifully shoving every long-sleeved shirt and pair of pants you owned into your small suitcase. Everything was in place, and you had accounted for every possibility… or so you thought.
– (time skip) –
The driving, snow-laden wind stung your face as you sprinted toward the last curse, sword in hand. You could barely feel your lips or fingers, chilled to the bone and beyond exhausted, but this was the last one. The pitiful creature that skittered across the snow in front of you was the only curse left standing. It kept you from a warm bath and a strong drink back at the hotel, and if you let it get away now, you’d never catch up to it again after the storm.
“C’mon… just a little bit more,” you bargained with your aching body, groaning inwardly as the curse seemed to gain more ground.
The heavy snowfall muffled every sound and drastically reduced your visibility. Some small voice in your head screamed for caution, for you to go slower, but it was wholly overshadowed by your need to be warm again as fast as possible. Weirdly enough, that small voice sounded exactly like Nanami’s.
Suddenly, the curse tripped with a yelp, and you pounced on it with feline grace, ready to finish it off. A sickening crack rang through the air the instant you sank your blade into its body. You looked in horror as the ice underneath the curse shattered, revealing a roiling abyss of water below.
“Shit!” You screamed and dropped your sword, latching onto the ice's edge as the curse sank in a silent struggle.
It fell out of sight as your gloved hands slid on the ice, the loss of purchase sending your body further into the glacial water. You whimpered in pain, almost daring to believe that any second help would arrive- that Nanami would be next to you. Darkness swam in your vision, and your pain seemed to dull. You fought to keep awake, dimly aware that sleep meant never waking up again.
“N-Nanami, p-please… Help...” You begged into the uncaring snow.
Suddenly, a strong force grabbed your arm and hauled you out of the frosty water, picking you up almost effortlessly. You instinctively buried your face into your savior’s warmth and were rewarded with the deep, spiced notes of Nanami’s cologne.
You tried to mumble something, but the blonde sorcerer quickly hushed you, “No, save your strength. You have to stay awake. Promise me that you’ll stay awake.”
You couldn’t miss the panic in his voice as your eyes fluttered shut.
–
*Warm…. Content… Safe….*
It felt like liquid sunshine had been poured into your veins, thawing every inch of your frozen body. You were curled against something large and warm… Something that smelled wonderful.
Nanami’s hushed voice washed over you, thick and slow like warm honey, “How are you feeling?”
You slowly opened your eyes, and your heart immediately jumped into your throat. Your body was pressed against Nanami’s, your head tucked into the soft crook of his neck as if it were the most natural thing in the world. His bare, muscular chest was pushed directly against your plush breasts, his skin radiating pure warmth as the scent of his cologne made your head fuzzy.
With that image now firmly seared into your brain, it took another second for the rest of your thoughts to process. The first was good news: you were alive unless the afterlife was identical to your hotel room. But the second…. Well, maybe drowning wouldn’t have been too bad because you couldn’t feel that you had any clothes on.
“Nanami?” As you spoke, your voice sounded panicked and far away, almost distorted to your ears. “Where are my- what happened?”
His head shifted slightly against yours. You couldn’t see his face, but Nanami sounded as uncomfortable as you felt. “I needed to get your body temperature back up… Shoko once told me that skin-to-skin contact was the best way to prevent hypothermia.”
You weren’t sure if you should slap the Doctor or send her a bottle of liquor as he continued, “I did my best to respect your privacy, but it was necessary. I apologize.”
Nanami’s apology sounded so blunt and detached that it stung. Your face burned at the thought of him undressing you, immediately replaced with a feeling of growing horror. Surely, he couldn’t have missed all the tattoos as he removed your clothes?
“Oh god… He must think I’m disgusting.”
Your thoughts and insecurities began to pile up as you lay in his arms, silent and stewing in your mortification. The two of you had grown vaguely close in the past two weeks- close enough to have dropped most honorifics and pretenses with each other. Outside the mission, the two of you had spent time idly chatting about life, and you’d developed a comfortable routine around each other. You had even almost worked up the courage to ask him out for coffee when the mission was over.
Nanami spoke again, disrupting your thoughts, his voice tentative beneath a forced layer of calm. “I can close my eyes and let you dress if you feel up to it.”
You could only nod worldlessly as your face burned red in embarrassment. His arms dropped away from your back to untangle the layers of blankets that sandwiched you two together, and you bit back a groan of protest.
“Alright, you’re good to get up.”
Nanami rolled over, facing the opposite wall. You winced at the sting of cold air as you slipped out of bed and away from him, quickly noticing that the only light in the room was from two large candles and the fireplace. Another groan fell from your lips, “Don’t tell me the power is out.”
“Unfortunately,” came the curt reply. “The storm dropped enough snow to block the roads and cut off the power.
“We better get some fucking hazard pay for this,” you swore quietly.
Nanami was silent for another minute; under any other circumstance, your comment might’ve made him chuckle, “I set out some clothes for you. They’re thicker than the ones you brought.”
You opened your mouth to argue but instantly shut it. You knew he was right. The black pajama set you favored was cute and long-sleeved but made of thin material.
“If you’re sure.” You sighed in resignation as you dug through your own bag for socks and underwear. The only two things you had left were a cotton thong and a pair of thick winter socks with bears stitched on them. You committed to your fate, slipping on the sweatpants and blue thermal shirt Nanami had set to the side before turning back around.
As soon as you did, another image permanently seared itself into your brain. Nanami lay on his side, hair mussed from its usual neat style, and you were treated to a mouthwatering view of his muscular back. His skin glistened, reflecting the flickering firelight, and your mouth went dry. It was all too easy to think about him looking like this after a more intimate activity.
“W-what will you wear?” You managed to force the sentence out.
“I have the pair of pants I’m currently wearing, but you have my last shirt.” Nanami paused momentarily. The usually self-assured sorcerer was oddly hesitant as he spoke again, more quietly this time. “I hope it won’t bother you.”
You stared at the back of his head incredulously. “You? Bothering me? Nanami, you just held my naked body for I don’t even know how long to keep me from freezing to death. You’ve seen what’s all over my skin. I probably disgust you now, and you’re worried about bothering me?”
Nanami froze mid-breath, turning to lie on his back and stare at the ceiling. You couldn’t see the expression on his face in the low light, but you could feel intensity rolling off him in waves. “You really think that I’m disgusted by you?”
You clap a hand over your mouth, cursing yourself for letting that slip. “I-I don’t- I mean, I don’t want you to be…”
Your voice felt thick, your mouth dry like it had been stuffed with cotton as you covered your eyes and wished you could magically disappear into the ground. You were so distracted that you didn’t notice Nanami slide out of bed and cross the room.
A gentle pressure suddenly appeared on your shoulder, and you looked up, jumping slightly as Nanami’s warm coffee-colored eyes gazed into yours, his hand firmly gripping your shoulder.
“I’m not.” His voice was rough and strained. “I could never be…. Fuck, you have no idea, do you?”
You blinked slowly, the look on your face akin to a deer caught in the headlights. Nanami squeezed your shoulder to emphasize his next point, “I have spent the last few hours pointedly trying to ignore how beautiful I think you are.”
“But…”
Nanami held up a single finger, a motion for you to wait. He removed his hand from your shoulder and extended his arm for you to see the black ink nestled against his inner bicep. “Believe me more now?”
Your gaze washed over the neat, tidy lettering. The tattoo was Roman numerals- a date? You raised your hand slowly, gently tracing your fingertips along the lines as if entranced. Nanami shuddered at your touch.
“Careful, now.” He warned. “I can’t do much more of this.”
“Hm?” You stepped back to give him a bit more space, but your eyes were instantly drawn to the massive bulge in his sweatpants, the outline of his erection clear against the fabric.
“I have been trying to be a good man. I have been trying to be a considerate mission partner.” Nanami sighed tersely, his muscles flexing in the dim light as he reached up to push his golden hair away from his face. “I told myself that having a- a crush on a mission partner was juvenile and unprofessional…”
A slight blush crossed the usually stern man’s face. “I wanted to ask you to dinner after we returned- to do this properly…. but when I started taking off your clothes and found…”
His sentence trailed off as he gestured up and down your body, and your heart lurched.
“You found?” You questioned softly, almost not daring to believe your ears.
“You’re a work of art,” Nanami murmured. “I need to know if I’m making you uncomfortable… the last thing I want is for you to feel forced into anyth-”
He didn’t get to finish before your soft lips collided with his. Your eyes fluttered shut at the taste of him, savoring it. Nanami’s hands instantly returned to your body to pull you in even closer. He held you closely as if you were the most important thing in the world, and you melted against him, sighing gently.
“No, you’re not.” You whispered against his lips. “I feel the same way about you.”
His large, battle-calloused hand cupped your face with heartwrenching tenderness. Nanami’s thumb caressed the swell of your lower lip before he tilted your head back so he could look into your eyes. The tender, intimate gesture pulled a quiet sigh from you, and Nanami chuckled, a low, rich sound you felt in your bones.
“What do you want from me right now, beautiful girl?”
His gaze was intense and magnetic as it drew you in, causing desire to blossom in your lower body. Its electric tendrils wound throughout your veins at the sound of Nanami’s rich voice. You were usually so outspoken and confident, but this damned man made your head swim.
He stroked your cheek again, “I need you to use your words. Can you do that for me?”
Another sharp pang of arousal pierced your heart and fell straight through your core like a shooting star. “I want you, Nanami. I-I want to have sex with you. I want more than that, but right now…..please.”
You trailed off, acutely aware of how your pussy subtly ached and fluttered at your own words. It begged for attention, the small scrap of cotton underwear you wore already damp with arousal. Nanami’s small smile turned into a rather roguish grin, voice rough and low. “Good girl. Let me take care of you.”
Nanami’s praise forced another whimper from your lips as he pulled you flush against him. One of your hands splayed against his chest, the other tangled into his fine hair. He captured your lips in a searing kiss; you felt the thick strain of his erection press against you so insistently, even through the layers of fabric you both still wore.
With one swift motion, Nanami swept you up and off your feet. You wrapped your legs around his waist, keening as you rocked your aching pussy against his cock, forcing a hiss from the usually stoic man.
“Too many clothes,” you whined, drawing another short laugh from your lover.
“As much as I want to see more of your lovely body, we’ve gotta keep you warm, pretty girl.” Nanami cooed, nipping at your bottom lip. He pressed kisses down the column of your neck as he pulled your hips down, encouraging you to grind against him again. “Fuck, that’s it.”
You swore you could cum just like this, humping his clothed cock like a desperate schoolgirl eager for her first fuck. The friction between your bodies moved the seam of your panties against your swollen clit, making you cry out. His lips returned to devour your cries of pleasure, your kiss becoming desperate, filled with tongue and teeth.
“‘Nami, please…. not like this. Wanna cum on your fingers.” you beg, unable to stop yourself from chasing your rapidly approaching orgasm, despite your plea.
Nanami growled, swiftly crossing the room to deposit you on the edge of the bed. “No, I’m going to taste you first. You’re going to cum on my tongue.”
You sobbed, both from his sinful words and from the loss of his body against yours, as Nanami hooked a finger into the waistband of your sweats. He slid them down and threw them across the room unceremoniously, causing you to giggle.
That same giggle quickly turned into a wanton moan as his thick finger reached down to ghost over the scrap of cotton that barely covered your pussy from his gaze. Your legs fell open, begging him for more, and Nanami tsk’d softly, his legendary impatience flaring to life.
Through the heady haze of your lust, you felt Nanami’s fingers hook through your underwear in two different spots. His cursed energy flashed, and his fingers tore through the material like it wasn’t ever there.
“Nanami Kent-!” You didn’t get the chance to finish chastising him before he knelt with predatory grace, cupped either side of your hips, and pulled your hips closer. He licked a fat stripe through your glistening folds, and your head fell back against the bedsheets; the last syllable of his name instantly turned to a cry of ecstasy.
He chuckled again, lazily dragging his tongue along the same path before pressing a light kiss to your clit, “I’ll buy you more,” he murmured, “Needed to taste you.”
You whined as Nanami grazed your clit, the pressure enough to tease but not enough for true satisfaction. He spread you open with his fingers and watched in desperate fascination as your pussy seemed to beg for him, soaked and clenching around nothing. Your back arched off the bed as Nanami took the small bud between his lips and sucked.
He growled in approval, the sensual timbre of his voice traveling through your body and causing your cunt to clench again, “So perfect.”
Nanami held you firmly in place with his arms as he continued his blissfully torturous assault on your body. He alternated between sucking your clit and thrusting his tongue into your core, feasting on you with abandon like he needed your taste to live. Every so often, his nose tapped against your swollen clit, and you saw stars.
You moaned his name as Nanami’s clever fingers traced your opening, and you nearly cried as one thick digit fully slipped inside. He moved the finger experimentally, completely entranced by the way your velvet walls fluttered around him, begging him to stay inside you.
“Need to cum…. please.” You sob, desperately trying not to wrap your legs around his head and hold him in place forever.
“You’re doing so well for me- so fucking beautiful.” Nanami praised roughly and slipped another finger into you, scissoring them and stretching your walls experimentally. Your back arched off the bed again as he leaned down to tongue your clit at the same time. His fingers caressed your g-spot insistently; stars danced in your vision, and the arousal in your body all coalesced into one aching, burning knot.
“It- it’s too much… Nanami, nnnnguh ‘m gonna-”
Your sentence broke off into a desperate, airy whine as Nanami sucked your swollen clit between his lips once more, sending you over the edge of a mind-shattering orgasm. His hands stroked the inked skin of your hips, and you sobbed his name as he greedily lapped up the cum from your soaked folds. You gazed between your legs and watched, enraptured, as Nanami slowly stood and licked your cum off of his fingers.
“Absolutely delicious,” He groaned appreciatively at the taste, and you whimpered in response; the sight was easily one of the most arousing things you’d ever seen. You rubbed your thighs together, wholly lost to desire, the movement shifting the blue thermal you still wore even higher up your body. The fabric moved against your pert nipples, giving them enough friction to tease.
You tipped your head back as you rolled one of your nipples between your fingers with a practiced flourish, and Nanami’s impossibly hard cock twitched at the sight. If you were more lucid, you’d have seen that he was just as affected by the show you put on. The sight of you toying with your plush breasts, wearing only his shirt, half your tattoos clearly visible, and nipples strained against the fabric … If he were a weaker man, he’d have already cum while still in his pants.
“You put on such a pretty show ‘f me,” Nanami murmured as he slipped a hand into the band of his sweatpants, his gaze heavy-lidded, content to watch you play for a moment. However, you had other ideas. You flashed a coy, lust-addled smile and reached your foot out, tucking it next to his hand to gently tug at the waistband, a clear signal for the pants to come off.
“So impatient,” He chuckled roughly, instantly complying with your demand. Finally, you were treated to the view you’d been dreaming about. Nanami stood before you, completely nude and almost painfully aroused. A trail of neatly groomed, honey-blonde hair led down his toned abdomen, guiding your eyes to his deliciously hard cock. It was long, with a prominent vein that ran down the side to disappear before it met the thick, swollen tip.
You spread your legs invitingly, and Nanami crawled between them, the bed dipping under his added weight. He stroked his cock experimentally, hissing as he traced the tip through your warm folds before kissing the tip to your clit. You whimpered at the lewd, wet sounds, your pussy fluttering desperately every time his swollen tip circled your entrance.
“Please, Nanami….” You meweled, hips rocking involuntarily against him. He needed no further encouragement to slide into your warmth; Nanami hissed and groaned, slowly pushing into you, fighting the urge to just slam his cock inside your core. You took him in deeper, inch by agonizing inch, until his swollen cockhead kissed your cervix, and you sobbed in ecstasy.
With another low growl, Nanami rocked his hips slowly, watching you fall apart at the unhurried drag of his cock against your velvet walls. “Like that, pretty girl?”
You babbled and whined complete nonsense, biting and kissing into his shoulder as Nanami began to thrust his hips at a faster pace, enraptured by the pearly ring of your combined fluids that coated the base of his cock. In mere moments, he was drilling into you with ruthless efficiency, the room filled with the pornographic sounds of your lovemaking.
Every one of Nanami’s thrusts sent an electric shockwave of pleasure through your body, and you rocked your hips against him, desperately chasing another orgasm. You wrapped your legs up and around his waist, shifting your hips slightly, and his cock hit even deeper.
“Good girl… Good fucking girl,” he growled as your hips ground against each other. “Taking me so well... Cum for me one more time- shit, I need to feel you cum on my cock.”
Your nails dug into his back and arms desperately as the tight coil inside you built and built until it shattered completely. Sparks of blinding white flashed in your vision as your orgasm burned through like wildfire, and your pussy clenched around him desperately. Moments later, Nanami came with a look of sheer bliss on his face. Ropes of his warm cum coated your walls, stuffing you and giving you a feeling of delicious fullness.
A few minutes passed in blissful silence as you both caught your breath. Nanami made no real move to pull out, and you weren't complaining. Instead, he simply maneuvered into a lying position, pulling you close with his cock still buried deep inside you.
“It’ll help you stay warm tonight,” he murmured lovingly, tucking all the blankets back into place around your intertwined bodies.
Tagging some friends: @saradika, @thefact0rygirl, @babygirl-leon-kennedy, @hereforthesunrise, @ashotofspotchka, @ironandglass, @amyroswell, @cassandrablacker, @lady-valtieri, @justanothersadperson93
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#I need this man in a way that's concerning to feminism#jujutsu kaisen fanfic#jujutsu kaisen fanfiction#jjk fanfic#nanami#nanami kento#kento nanami x reader#kento nanami smut#kento nanami x y/n#kento nanami x you#nanami kento x reader#nanami x reader#jjk nanami#nanami smut#kento nanami#jjk smut
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“Righteousness”
summary | in another timeline, kunikuzushi never redeemed himself. he took interest in a different kind of heart—not the Gnosis, not a Vision—but yours. (art credits: @/Shiqaruki on twitter).
warnings | lore, kidnapping, kuni calls you ‘little songbird,’ profanity, brief mention of physical abuse, manipulation, praise & degradation, pining, obsessive/possessive, smut [18+, MDNI], dubcon, female-bodied reader (wears a dress & lingerie), dominant kuni, choking, yandere jealousy, murder/arson threats, worship, slapping, finger-fucking, mirror sex, kuni receives oral, deepthroating, edging/teasing, orgasm denial, mention of breeding
genre | yandere, smut with plot, canon-divergent
word count | 4.5k
pairing | kunikuzushi/scaramouche x reader
✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧
In a time all but forgotten, a young boy sat on his knees, caressing a hand-sewn doll in his palms and looking up with childlike compassion to his companion.
“There once was a puppet solider whose greatest wish was to be with a ballerina doll forever and ever,” he began, his eyes reflecting the scene of his storytelling imagination.
He gently squeezed the doll in his hands, as if to comfort his companion before the truth spills from his lips. “But the solider didn’t have a heart and didn’t know where his feelings came from.”
“One day, his owner didn’t want him anymore and threw him away into a fire. But even in the flames, his eyes never left the ballerina,” he continued with a more somber tone, drawing attention to the gut-wrenching ending of a tragic romance.
However, his voice shifted, offering soft words of wisdom and hope to his distraught friend. “The next day, the people found a tiny heart in the ashes left by the fire.”
Instinctively, the beautiful puppet sitting before the young boy curled his lip in disdain. “Probably ashes in the shape of a heart… but that’s not a real heart.”
He could hear the affectionate smile pulling at the corners of the young boy’s mouth. “Maybe, but what if… hearts can be born from ashes?”
“What a joke. It’s just ashes,” the lonesome puppet can barely conjure up a breath in his agony. “Nothing left but ashes.”
As his chest twisted and clenched with the wretched filth of so-called human emotion, the divine puppet came to a profound realization. His body merely served as a hollow shell, cursed by the ghost of mortal weakness—a living testament to the depths of an Archon’s visceral mourning.
In his naïveté, he had trusted the boy he thought to be his friend. He had believed that silly little fairytale, that maybe he wasn’t as empty and worthless as he felt. There was no heart to be found in the cold vessel of a failed god.
Kunikuzushi would have to claim one for himself.
Sin.
The ultimate temptress of mortals. The manifestation of human greed and desire. That which demands repentance and atonement for fear of eternal damnation. It is hinged on the human condition that death is inevitable.
Mortals are easily persuaded by morals and ideology if it means life after death in a paradise that is not guaranteed. Humans create false narratives to exercise the sick satisfaction of controlling one other. When all is said and done, the real struggle is for power—namely the power to control fate itself.
For those who are destined to roam the world with no such motives, imprisoned in an earthly purgatory, sin and salvation are laughable notions.
There is no reason to live, for you cannot die; Sin knows no bounds and comes with no price.
“The sooner you accept this, the better,” Kunikuzushi laments, his face just inches from yours. The bewitching twinkle in his lavender irises has remained all these centuries, a cruel illusion masking the abyss beneath. “Nothing you say will change my decision.”
You were really quite the picture, if he was being honest, all tied up for him. Kunikuzushi loathed that just the sight of you was enough to make the void in his chest cavity ache with longing. A reminder of his imperfection.
Anyone else would have died a violent death for such a transgression. But you presented a unique opportunity.
“Kuni, please,” you whimpered, your pleas falling on deaf ears. On the contrary, he loves hearing your voice, especially when you beg so earnestly. “I-I don’t know what I did wrong… I’m scared. Please, let me go…”
The puppet hushes you lovingly, his lips brushing against your delicate skin toward your ear. “Hey, now. There’s no need for that. You’re safe with me, little songbird.”
You flinch, gasping and recoiling in fear, turning your head away defiantly. It’s not like you could push him away, your little limbs bound to a tall column in the kitchen nice and tight. Hot tears pricked at your eyes. It burns like hell.
“Untie me, Kuni!” you shrieked, squirming and struggling against the binds to no avail.
He snatches your face firmly between his thumb and two fingers, squishing your cheeks to the point you felt pressure on your skull. “Ungrateful slut. Didn’t I explain this to you already? Your heart beats for me from this day forward.”
Frozen in shock, your body stiffens involuntarily as fear floods your veins, rendering you utterly helpless. Even as he gazed upon you with an icy, detached stare, you couldn’t find it within yourself to fault Kuni for this act of desperation. He could never make sense of himself and the pain that came with betrayal after betrayal.
Why even try to embrace humanity if it would mercilessly punish you for not having a heart?
You still remember the day you found him, it was but a coincidence you both crossed paths. Kuni was a wandering traveler, or at least that’s how he introduced himself. He seemed kind enough. You were particularly taken by his appearance, so lovely it was almost inhuman.
It just so happened that you were willing to offer him a place to stay. It took a bit of convincing on your part, actually, but you were worried about the string of murders near your village recently. Someone must have had an insatiable vendetta against the blade-smithing arts, striking them down one by one.
A small knowing smile pulled at his lips, his eyes creasing slightly with amusement as he marveled at how you opened yourself up so easily. This was the first time he had talked to a human in who knows how long. Perhaps since the young boy’s passing many dreadful seasons ago.
Kuni found the void in his chest persuading him to entertain his curiosity about you.
He had to admit, once you both got to know each other, it was quite the impeccable arrangement. During the day, you provided the kind of mundane tranquility and domesticity he had always dreamed of. Thankfully, your residence was in a rural part of the countryside, which offered much appreciated security and seclusion from the world.
Once you were safely tucked into bed and sound asleep, he would lie restlessly in the guest room. Puppets have no need for sleep. On some lonely moonlit nights, he would entertain his own fantasies of you. In the absence of such desires, he was compelled to satisfy his blood thirst.
Though Kuni had long forsaken the human emotions that afflicted his existence with disappointment and abandonment, his burgeoning relationship with you had quickly proven to be the last remaining vestige of his innocent supplication for a purpose.
In fact, he demanded it, after witnessing you day in and day out slipping from his grasp. He was growing impatient, waiting for something more. You had always stopped short of taking a little leap of faith to hold his hand or kiss his forehead, leaving him yearning for your touch and attention. Why?
Even in your presence, he was not alleviated of his turmoil. A number of possibilities plagued him. Were you dissuaded by his artificial constitution? Did he make a fatal miscalculation? God forbid, was there someone else?
No matter how many times he twisted, folded, and bent reality in his mind, trying to make sense of you, he never came to an agreeable conclusion. By the time Kuni realized just how deep you had nestled yourself into the empty husk of his heart, it was too late for the both of you.
All of this mental anguish and pining was unbearable. Unacceptable. He loved you, yes, but needed you more.
The puppet’s chest fluttered as you willingly complied, tears staining your cheeks, but that’s okay. His soft pink lips brushed against your cheek once more, kissing away your precious tears. It was his first taste of you.
Kuni cradled you in his palms like a delicate doll, his thumbs ghosting your cheeks. He leaned in closer, indigo bangs tickling your face and his mouth parted with a breathless question. “Is your heart… truly mine?”
He had broken you, and you had no choice but to nod slowly.
“Say it for me, little songbird,” he encourages you with a warm intonation. His eyes were trained on your lips.
“I-I’m yours,” you replied weakly.
No sooner than you could speak were his plush lips pressed to yours, a breathy hum of relief exhaling through his nose. In turn, you muffled a whimper, overwhelmed by the sensation. He had untied you, knowing you couldn’t hurt him but he could certainly hurt you.
Kuni was gentle at first, relishing in his first kiss with you. He carefully took your wrists to guide your hands to his body, and he wrapped his arms around your waist to pull you against him. Still, you trembled in his grasp.
“There’s no need to fear,” he whispers between kisses, holding your face to his. “I will take care of you.”
He can’t bear to leave your lips. Guiding you towards him, he leans against the kitchen counter and tucks a stray lock of your hair behind your ear. A small prayer barely escapes his lips. “(Y/N), hold me… touch me… please.”
“Kuni,” you choke out, tears forming in the corner of your eyes again. You are silenced with increasingly fervent kisses, one of his hands trailing down to your neck just by his fingertips, giving you goosebumps in the wake of his featherlight touch.
“You are going to give yourself to me. Your heart is my heart, and I will not have you hiding any part of yourself from me,” his voice grows a bit more insistent, closing his fingers around your throat as a threat, but not yet squeezing. “Do you understand?”
You give a feeble nod, unable to look at him directly. Every time your gaze locked with his, it sent a pang of terror jolting through your fragile body. He brings you closer by your neck, kissing you with more confidence than before. There is a little part of you that is worried you are unable to discern fear from excitement.
The puppet lets his hand slip further, fingertips finding the contour of your chest. He hesitates briefly, then allows his palm to feel your plump breast. The act was enough to elicit a little whine from you, and he knew right then and there that he had to hear it again.
“Do you… have any inclination of how long I waited for you?” he whispers hotly onto your lips, feeling down your waist at an excruciatingly slow pace. He smoothed each wrinkle of your dress with his thumb, tracing the silhouette of your figure down until he felt the hem of your underwear through the thin fabric. His breath caught.
You were still not as receptive to his advances as he would like, and suddenly he scoops you up to hook your legs around his hips, pressing your back against the nearest wall in the hallway. Kuni was beginning to reveal his desperation for you in more ways than one, breathing a little heavier. He was determined to have you submit to him and if you weren’t responsive to his soft side, then so be it.
“Answer me,” Kuni lowers his voice with a commanding edge, his lips just inches from your neck while his messy indigo bangs tickled your jaw. You whimpered, involuntarily moving your hips against him at the mere thought of his mouth on you.
At long last, you found your voice—delicate and decadent with a tinge of spine-prickling anticipation. Perhaps you had lost part of yourself, your humanity, in him too. “H-how long, Kuni?”
You shivered slightly, feeling his mouth spread into a satisfied smile against the sensitive skin of your neck. His voice deepens further, sultry and needy, “Lifetimes… I’ve been so goddamn purposeless for too many fucking lifetimes, just waiting for you.”
Without warning, the touch-starved puppet sunk his teeth into the crevice of your shoulder at the base of your throat, sucking at the weak spot to bruise the skin with his mark. A surprised yelp fell from your mouth, and you so nicely turned your head to offer him more. He clutched your curves tightly, as if he was secretly wishing your bodies would just melt into each other.
Ba-dum… ba-dum… ba-dum…
Your precious heartbeat echoed through his chambers of his chest. Kuni craved that little pulse of yours, chasing it up your neck in heated, sloppy kisses. All the while, you encouraged him with sweet little sounds of pleasure, softly asking for more under your breath.
“It’s mine,” he reiterated, perhaps to help immortalize the sensation against his lips. With a faint growl and yet another love bite, he added, “You’re fucking mine, you hear me?”
If only he could be bothered to pull back and catch a glimpse of how the puppet had unraveled you beyond recognition, equally as intoxicated by the heat of the moment. No matter. He will have his fill of you in due time.
“Y-yours, mhmm,” you capture his wet lips halfway, experimentally swirling your tongue with his passionately. You were clinging onto his shoulders, entangling your fingers in the soft ends of his pretty hair resting on the back of his neck.
With a faint moan against your mouth, Kuni lifted you once more by slipping his hands under your dress to feel his digits press into the soft flesh of your ass. It was light work to carry you, giving him the opportunity to squeeze and smack your ass with a smirk.
Slipping into your bedroom, he set you down and turned you around by your hips so that you were facing the tall mirror just a few feet away from the mattress. He leans over your shoulder from behind and you blush heavily at the image reflected by the mirror. Both of his beautiful hands traveled up your body simultaneously, one feeling your stomach, ribs, breast, and resting around the bottom of your throat.
The other, however, caught the frilly ends of your dress, sliding it up your skin at a painstakingly slow rate. Kuni’s violet irises shimmered with obsessive desire, admiring every inch of your body that was exposed to him. He bunches the dress in his fist as he raises it above your hips, revealing the most angelic lacy undergarments accented with cute little ballerina pink ribbons. Kuni chuckled, his breath tickling your neck.
“Do me a favor, darling,” he whispers into the shell of your ear, kissing it lightly. He takes his time to unveil your breasts, each one perfectly shaped with lovely nipples begging to be pinched. “Open your mouth.”
You comply, watching yourself in the mirror with curious fascination, before Kuni stuffs the thin, light fabric of your dress into your mouth. He nibbles your ear playfully. “Hold that for me.”
His eyes marvel at your body. If you told him you were a goddess, he would believe you without hesitation. Divine or not, the puppet was hell-bent on worshipping you like he had been dreaming of. Kuni played with the intricate lace of your snow white lingerie, his thumb brushing your pelvis teasingly.
Instead, he takes two fingers and caresses your folds outside of the undergarment, pleased to feel your panties dampened with excitement. You quiver at the touch, moaning faintly. Kuni is enthralled by the sweet noise, taking the tiny lingerie by his thumbs and sweeping it down your pretty legs.
He immediately sits down on the edge of the bed, quickly pulling you into his lap and spreading your legs apart with his knees. There it was in the mirror. Your glistening flower framed with the loveliest soft petals.
Kuni couldn’t possibly restrain himself when you were presented so exquisitely, wasting no time to slide his fingers over your pussy. You groaned in pleasure, muffled by the dress in your mouth, relaxing against his chest as the puppet focused on rubbing circles around your clit. He kissed your neck and shoulders endlessly, admiring your reactions in the mirror and whispering lowly, “So good for me. So, so good for me, aren’t you, (Y/N)?”
Your thighs trembled. You desperately wanted to close your legs as his movements became faster on your clit, the stimulation swiftly overcoming you. Breathy moans soon evolved into incoherent pleas. Kuni held you steadfast with his legs, keeping you spread all nice, admiring how you twitched beneath him.
“What did I tell you?” his tone is one of warning, groping your right breast and littering your skin with a few more marks. “There are consequences to hiding yourself from me.”
The puppet suddenly swipes his middle finger over your leaking hole—causing you to moan lewdly—before slapping your pussy. It was a light but firm slap, sending an addicting concoction of both pain and pleasure through you.
After a brief moment, he returns to your folds to trace and admire it, then continuing his ministrations on your clit. Occasionally Kuni would let a finger slip to tease your entrance, finding that it drove you crazy.
“P-please, please, Kuni,” your words quivered like your body, bending easily to the pleasure he was so kindly bestowing you. It had to have been the hundredth small cry for relief tumbling from your throat, you were on the precipice of your climax. “I-I need it. Something, anything… fuck me.”
“You better not cum on my fingers,” the puppet orders, gathering your slick and gently inserting two fingers into your warm walls. You whined in frustrated pleasure as he stretched you slightly, pumping his digits in and out of you barely an inch but keeping you stuffed.
“I c-can’t, I’m…” you babble. Kuni knew you were on the brink already, but he wanted to at least try to prepare you for his cock. He suddenly pulls his fingers out, and with it escapes your climax. Tears were almost pricking your eyes. You could definitely feel them beneath the surface.
He slaps your pussy again as punishment for not listening to his commands. “Greedy sluts are not rewarded.”
“I-I’m sorry,” you mumble and he grunts, pushing you off of him and to your knees in front of the bed. Kuni makes quick work of his clothes, tossing his shirt aside and pulling his pants down enough to spring his throbbing cock free. You had certainly felt his hard length while you were in his lap, but seeing it rendered you speechless.
No different from the rest of the puppet’s beautiful body, Kuni’s cock was perfect. A few veins wrapped around his hard member, bulging under the flesh. Towards the tip, it was gradually flushed pink with hot need, a pearl of precum on his slit. You took him in your hand, butterflies swarming your stomach with the realization that he had more girth than you expected.
Kuni grabbed a fistful of your hair and shoved your face toward his cock with a simple demand. “Suck.”
You experimentally drag your tongue underneath his cock, licking your lips, and working your mouth on his tip to lubricate him first. Kuni’s eyes roll in the back of his head, resting one hand behind him on the bed as he moans deeply. “Fuck, (Y/N)…”
The sensation of you smiling with his cock in your mouth sent warmth through him. You eagerly fit more of him in your mouth, sucking and swirling your tongue just the way he likes it when you received praise. Yet, Kuni needed more.
“You can do better than that,” he scoffed.
His grip on your hair tightened, pushing your throat completely down on his cock just to feel it once. The puppet twitched in your throat, letting out a seductive growl of pleasure. You gagged slightly, before pulling back with a string of saliva connecting your lips to his tip. You coughed a little, but he cupped your chin and wiped it from your mouth sweetly.
“That’s my girl,” Kuni coos, guiding you up on the bed next to him and pushing you down onto your back. As much as he’d love to see you taking him in your mouth all evening, he had a prize more tantalizing waiting for him. Clothes on the floor, moonlight pouring over you both, the puppet vowed to never forget how you mewled as he dragged the pulsing tip of his cock along your wet folds.
Gasping, you achingly bucked your hips in tandem, utterly drunk on the delicious sensation of his thick length parting your pussy lips. You loved to be teased, that much was for sure and Kuni ate it up—the desperate crinkle of your brow in pleasure and how your breath became short.
He presses his tip at your warm hole, but never pushes it in.
You groan dramatically, sweat already forming on your forehead and you haven’t even began. Every bit of pressure he applies has you smitten, imagining the moment he finally fills you. “K-Kuni…”
The smug puppet smirks down at you knowingly, grinding his cock against you repeatedly, rubbing your clit just right. “Yes, my little songbird? Have something to say?”
Before you can speak, he kisses you to muffle your answer. You grow even more impatient, using your legs to keep his hips locked close to yours. Kuni peppers your jawline and neck with kisses and little playful licks of his tongue. “I’m listening.”
“Please,” you beg.
Kuni’s tone is unreadable. “Please what? Use your words.”
You give him a flustered look of desperation and he pins your hands on either side of your head, interlacing your fingers with his. You reply, biting your lower lip, “Fuck m-me, Kuni.”
A smile graces his face and his eyes soften, thumbs caressing your hand comfortingly to brace you for his length. “Is this… your first time, (Y/N)?”
Though you were a shy and kindhearted person, he should’ve known from the way you deepthroated his cock earlier that it wasn’t your first. He wasn’t your first. That means someone else was. Someone else defiled you.
Kuni’s electric purple eyes darkened like an impending storm as you shook your head.
“Indulge me,” the puppet asks. “What other men have been in my position?”
You are not in the right state of mind, still insatiably yearning for your climax and grinding your wet folds on his length. However, Kuni doesn’t accept your nonsensical mumblings and half-answers. His hands tighten around yours, pushing his cock into you with a guttural moan inch by inch until he bottoms out completely.
“Oh my fucking god,” you sputter out, sighing in sweet relief and a bit of pain. Your pussy is filled to the brim with his cock, stretching you out good. You try to turn your head away and close your eyes, but Kuni refuses to let you.
“That’s right,” Kuni’s voice is nothing short of alluring in the most raw way possible. “Treat me like your god and fucking look at me while you take my cock.”
He would be lying if he said he wasn’t also utterly euphoric as he sinks his large member into your tight walls. Gritting his teeth, he’s taken aback by how you squeeze him unknowingly, even your subconscious is unable to deny the pleasure he’s giving you. It took you a few seconds to adjust to his girth, your eyes drifting down his muscular chest and toned abdomen in admiration.
With the first drag of his cock out of you to his tip, hushed hum of pleasures are murmured by each of you, until he buries himself all the way back into you. Kuni continues in this rhythm with a few thrusts, unable to his stifle his own moans. He was no better, his climax already building within.
Pulling back, the puppet releases your hands to push your legs against your chest by your thighs to get just the right angle and perfect view of your folds. He hovers above you, fucking just his hot bulbous tip into your needy hole. In mere seconds, you cursed to yourself at how good it felt when he brushed against your sensitive entrance.
Your clit pulsated for attention. How could he not press his palm onto your pelvis and drag his thumb across the slightly swollen bud? His half-thrusts became shakier as you unexpectedly tightened around his cock—moans freely and loudly erupting from your throat. The feeling was beyond exhilarating and convinced him to push you to your limits.
“You think I’m going to let any other man put his hands on you like this?” Kuni sneers with jealous envy reflecting in his irises. “I’ll fucking snap his neck. I’d kill him.”
Impulsively, the obsessed puppet roughly plunges his entire cock into your soft pussy. He relishes in your loud moan of shock at the pleasure and slight discomfort in splitting you wide open. His cock pushes against that wonderful spot deep inside you, incredibly sensitive after all his torturous teasing. You were seeing more than stars.
“I bet they couldn’t fuck you like I can,” he scoffs, possessively pulling your closer by your legs and holding your ankles on his shoulders as he fucks you mercilessly. “Make you scream like I can. And—nghh—breed you.”
You were finer than a work of art, truly, in all your fucked-out glory as you chase your high on his thick cock. His thumb flitting over your clit messily, primal groans of bliss echoing throughout the bedroom at every divine flutter of your pussy milking his cock so well. Your words were simply unintelligible, mumbling breathy prayers wishing for his seed.
“No one can take you away from me,” Kuni himself is beginning to tremble with pleasure, but nevertheless he keeps up his brutal pace. Every crevice of your walls and your womb will know his essence. “You’re mine, and I’ll burn the whole damn world for you if that’s what it takes.”
In a rush of jealous envy at the mere thought of losing you, the puppet abruptly pushes your legs back onto your beautiful breasts by his chest. The erotic melody of your fluids coating the base of his cock and v-line with every sloppy thrust pushes you both over the edge of an impossible free fall of euphoria.
“Cum on me, (Y/N). C’mon, cum all over my fucking cock,” Kuni demands with salacious desperation, pounding into you again and again until you’ve ridden out every second of your climax. The sensation is indescribable as he swears he could feel your rapid heartbeat through your walls—your heartbeat in his hands like he’s the supreme god of your body.
And as such, he blesses you with ropes of hot cum to drown your pussy in his everlasting love. Kuni collapses and cradles you, wiping the tears of pleasure from your sweet, angelic cheeks.
Righteousness means nothing to gods, for whom salvation is too late and sin knows no price.
thanks for reading! reblogs are appreciated! my masterlist
#IDK WHERE 4.5K CAME FROM I JUST REALLY LIKE SCARA OKAY😩💜#[opulent dreams].✿#[dreams of delusion].✿#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact imagines#genshin imagines#genshin x reader#genshin smut#genshin fatui#genshin scaramouche#genshin kunikuzushi#genshin wanderer#scaramouche x reader#kunikuzushi x reader#wanderer x reader#scaramouche smut
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beauty and curiosity
synopsis: As Dottore's research assistant, you had to keep your curiosity on par with what he expected. You never thought that what sparked it after so much time would be Capitano himself
word count: 3k pairing: capitano x gn! reader (slight dottore if you wish to imagine it so, I did)
The door that greets your open eyes is the same like always. Brown wood that someone else picked before you. You can't say that they had bad taste, the door is placed nicely to the right corner and you little friend from last night - the spider- greets you even with this dawn. You wonder if he stayed there the whole night while you were sleeping as a thank you to the mercy you extended him. You did not kill him, and he did not move to make a new web. maybe he saw that as an equal trade? You probably would have left him alive anyway. Someone told you long before that seeing a spider was like a hint that you will get lucky in the following few days. So, even as your feet touch the cold wooden floor, you decide to still have mercy and to open the door without killing him to get breakfast.
Maybe they are lucky omens, maybe they are not. But it is not like killing him or carrying him out the window would change much for you. Your eyes would see the same door tomorrow. The floor would feel cold again and you would pick the same mug off the drying dishes in your kitchen to start the day with.
These routines did not bother you themselves, no. What was bothersome was the fact that you realized how, eventually, everyone develops to have them as creatures of habit. It was inevitable to turn into someone who repeats the same things over and over again. Even the harbinger you serve - one with multiple bodies, had his own routines. His younger clones had far more rebellion towards them but even they still had a need to keep a specific space, to prioritize one thing over the other like second nature.
Truth be told - you were not asked to pick who you would serve. Dottore ended up being the harbinger you would serve as an assistant. and you were not the only one picked for that role. He liked to keep plenty of staff. Part of it was that he needed an audience to showcase his own talents and immense intelligence to, while another part of him was a bit less selfish. Dottore was willing to teach those who had true curiosity and spirit according to his own criteria and for whatever reason, you managed to remain as one of the few assistants he kept close at hand. As close as he would allow that is and with a man like him that still meant millions of lightyears away.
You do not mind that in the slightest. What kept you around despite your failures and 'shortcomings' of having a moral compass in his lab was that he deemed your curiosity the highest out of anyone he had met. He once told you that if you were not serving him, the abyss would have swallowed you whole because you would wonder about its properties the same way you wondered about colors when you were younger.
"Why are apples red and why is the sky blue? from your childhood would just turn into questions about the inside shapes of the abyss and you would be swallowed by curiosity." Were his exact words.
Dottore believed that true curiosity could not be fabricated even at his own hands so while you were the not best person for experiments at the start, you were the one who suited his own curious nature.
'What good is a doctor who cures a disease without wondering about the cause? Without wondering about its transformations? What good is an engineer who cannot disassemble parts at the same speed he would assemble them at? And what good is a person who cannot see beyond the usual?"
He said you could see beyond the usual but in all honesty, sometimes it feels like you can't see past this mug. Or this window looking out into the street next to your breakfast table. Sometimes you felt like you could not see beyond the speck of dust or the peel of a citrus fruit.
Maybe that is why when he gave you a choice to leave, you decided to stay. While every Dottore clone had his own routines, they managed to keep a constant cycle of novelty. Working at his lab eventually brought more interesting things than you could have found yourself.
Was beauty in the new? Or was it in the old?
You were deeply unsure.
Dottore was not above punishing you despite keeping you around. For a few days, Dottore did not hear you utter a singular question in his lab and he found it so offensive you would dare to become ignorant to his breakthroughs. It seemed like you were bored of him and his research and he decided that a proper punishment would be to have you spend a whole month in the city farthest away from the main fatui base and from the tsaritsa.
if you were so bored of constant novelty - you might as well experience true boredom by residing in his abandoned lab in a peaceful town where everyone with something exciting to offer already moved away. The worst part? You did not feel like anything changed.
Numbness even touches curiosity. So, what if your door is now on the right instead of the left? What if the mug is pink instead of white? What if you were there or here? Differences are miniscule and nothing could make your curiosity perk up. If you were still like this when he summoned you back - you would be sent home and that is all there was to it. Or, he would further punish you by extending your stay. He could laugh at you when you mixed the things in the wrong way or when you failed to fix a core and it would explode. But what he absolutely refused is to have your curiosity dim down. If it did, you would be useless.
And it isn't like you have not tried to find something interesting. While you were on the trip to get to here, you tried to find something interesting. Perhaps some plants that would show something new or an animal that would make for a good study case. You did want to try and see how many generations it would take for animals to break a trauma response their parents exhibited alone but even that went out of the window after a few seconds.
If you could not find anything worthwhile in this town - you would be doomed to feel this way forever. Black and white thinking but not without basis. Stubborn curiosity and stubborn numbness started to go hand in hand for you. Maybe if you closed your eyes and prayed, your spark of curiosity would find an object for it to love and latch onto?
In the next moment, your spoon made a small noise. It moved from one side of your mug to the other. Nothing unusual, right? You just wanted to make the tea and honey come together but when you looked down you realized that your hands did not make it move. You already finished doing that around three minutes ago. To prove to yourself what it feels like, your hands moved to make the same motion and the fog over your brain lifted as you felt that danger was near. Somehow this spoon moved and it was not your doing.
With all your senses, you tried to pinpoint what exactly had happened but you were unsuccessful. Even if something was here, it masked its presence so well that a ghost would be ashamed. You did not feel a void, but you did not feel any warmth either. Unnerving. Unusual. Interest could be found in fear but you were unsure where to search.
Luckily for you, the presence had decided to make itself know. With a slight thud, footsteps approached you without your door ever opening. Was this mercy extended towards you in the same way you treated your spider? It sure felt that way.
"My sincere apologies for startling you." Now you had to look up from the mug to search for the stranger. But, with his deep voice and polite manner of speaking, you knew who it belonged to already. Capitano, the first of the eleven fatui harbingers. Your own Lord always said he did not care much for rankings but a certain sour taste would be in his words whenever he spoke of this man. You had not made contact with him previously but in a way, you felt that it was cruel fate that only one number separated you from the most noble and righteous harbinger and a heretic.
"Based on my previous visits to this abandoned small lab, I never encountered another soul here. When I felt your presence, I had to judge if you were sent here or if you were trying to steal information that belongs to our organisation."
You stood up and saluted him. It comes like second nature. "Lord harbinger, you were doing your duty. No need for apologies."
"Nonsense. I felt that I had startled you and should have thought of Dottore sending his own forces to abandoned labs before I made such a move."
Talking to other lords never came quite easy to you. Dottore enjoyed much of questioning and random rambles but other Lords were known to punish just for being asked a question by wretched vermin. But suddenly, you felt that Capitano filled the room with a presence. It seemed like he could choose to be a void or actually have spiritual warmth. How many years had he taken to perfect this?
In fact, how many years has he been alive? Did your lord simply hate him because he was branded with number two? Why did he always wear a mask?
You had heard so many rumours in bars and gatherings of other servants and soldiers but Capitano's own men never gossiped. Not even when they were at their most drunk. That is - they never spoke of their own lord with anything other than praise.
Where did that admiration come from? Had anyone seen him without a mask or cry perhaps?
"Your silence makes for a rather awkward companion. But I can tell you have questions."
"I have been called curious before, but it has been a while since I was curious about anything deeply."
Capitano moved a few steps to open a drawer with syringes in it.
"Are you not a researcher and is this not a lab of your famed lord?"
"Yes is my answer to both of those questions."
His gloved hands picked up two syringes and he did not look at you while he was doing so. You were not part of Dottore's team when he made them and their unique mix of colors piqued your interest. One of those colors looked like synth vaguely but the other one was similar to lava. Just how many experiments of Dottore's were you unaware of?
"And should this not be a prime place for you when the answer is yes to both. What have you been doing all this time?"
"Looking around this lab without actually touching anything for longer than a few seconds. I also kicked out a lot of spiders but last night I let one stay."
Capitano did not seem perplexed with your paradoxical answers. He could see your eyes eying his syringes with interest when you refused to take them apart and analyse the contents for however long you have been here. He felt no malice or dishonesty in your being, so he simply continued to move like you were not here. He had done this countless times before.
"I will not tell you what is inside of these syringes if that is one of your questions."
He sat down on a chair on the other side of your mug.
"I did have questions about the contents but I would have asked the syringes themselves not you. Even if it seems that I might melt or change shape from simply being exposed to them in any capacity.
"Hmm. You make a valid point. What keeps me a monster would make you disappear. I suggest you stay away from these unless you wish to meet a cruel fate."
"Lord first, you give me a kind warning but you speak of being a monster."
"And what is your observation meant to accomplish?"
"Nothing. Well, I could say it will help me keep my form too."
"You are an ordinary human." It didn't feel like an insult. It felt like he was praising such simpleness.
"What form do you speak of?"
This time he was looking at you. You could not see his eyes from his helmet but you could feel his gaze on you. Without flinching or moaning, all while keeping his eyes solely on you - Capitano stabbed his thigh and his heart with the two syringes he had prepared.
It seemed like he felt nothing but you felt both warmth and cold at once and in a second the overwhelming feeling was gone. It was so overwhelming that your curiosity made you run over and place your hands over his own to feel any remnants of energy. Touching any other harbinger so casually would have meant a number of different fates but Capitano was a kind man.
"If you are here to inspect me, there is no need. I know what I am doing and these will not kill me."
You helped him remove them even if he truly seemed like he did not need help. You could run towards the drawer he pulled them out from but the object of your interest were not the syringes themselves.
Your curiosity was this man himself. For the first time in a while, your brain started to race with questions and theories. Just who was he and what was he hiding.
"What is the reason you are so familiar with using these? Why are you here? Are you a monster?"
"Indeed. I belong to them."
"Beings? You speak of yourself as if you are not human. Just what is behind that mask of yours?"
Perhaps Dottore was right, the abyss would swallow you whole if it interested you. Maybe it still can? If you get out of this situation alive - if you survive removing the mask of the famed and powerful harbinger - you could go out to uncover new condensed abyssal energy.
You finally got your curiosity back and allowing it to run out would be a crime against yourself. Curiosity filled your whole body and Capitano felt cold to your touch as you looked at his face.
"You call yourself a monster because of this?"
"Are you perhaps about to call it beauty like that twisted doctor you serve?"
Maybe he expected a bigger reaction than this. Maybe you failed him, but you did not fail yourself.
"Beauty? There is nothing beautiful about it."
"At least you don't call rot beautiful like your own master."
"Your ice is above my head so I suppose your reputation proceeds you. You are kind enough to let me get my words out."
"Speak."
"There is nothing beautiful about the rot of skin. However, you are not a monster. You are undoubtedly human."
"Laughable."
But he did not laugh. He found you foolish. You dared to overstep twice. Removing his helmet was one thing but trying to comfort him was another.
"You are human, lord harbinger. Did you know that my own lord does not rot? Did you know he has made others unable to rot? In an odd way, this rot makes you more human than you believe."
You can't tell if your words caused a change or if they were comforting or insulting. This man has lived more lives than you ever will and he had seen and spilled more blood than you can imagine. He does not need comfort from you. That much is clear.
Still, as the ice descends, he makes it disappear with his hand and you emerge unharmed.
"Your curiosity saved you."
"I always thought it would eat me alive."
"It almost did. I never heard of anyone gaining a vision and immediately aiming at themselves."
A cryo vision had manifested in your lap without you even noticing. When you looked back up, Capitano had already pulled down his mask.
"Why didn't you stop me? You could have made me regret my choice the instant I tried to touch you."
"I had never seen anyone gain a vision in such a way. I suppose my own curiosity got the better of me."
He got up from the chair and you noticed just how much taller and imposing he was from such close proximity. You really were in the presence of danger and still chose risk instead of safety. Capitano was already moving towards the door and something compelled you to sit back down and finally drink the tea that had grown cold.
He was in the doorway now. You were thinking of what would happen to you now that you had a vision. Maybe you could try to boil it? You heard they were indestructible but surely something could dissolve it? Visions were not a completely natural thing in this world.
"Come. Bring that vision and follow me."
"I still do not have orders to leave this place."
"Since when were you allowed to refuse any orders from a harbinger? Dottore is not the only one you ought to listen to and I doubt he would be suitable to teach you how to use your new power."
You would be risking Dottore's wrath and plenty of unpredictable outcomes based on which clone greets you once you are back. But, losing the object of your curiosity would doom you to a worse fate in your own eyes.
Following Capitano would unlock a new world for you. Something told you that you would be able to find new beauty and curiosity if you took him up on his offer.
a/n: guess who is back !! after a year!! I hope my mutuals are around still to actually guess that it is me who is back. i realized the last time i wrote was in november and the new archon quest finally inspired me.
to give you a few updates: i changed two jobs and I became less creative I am afraid. I got into a situationship/delusionship with a narc for a few months but i did not cry. i am welcoming any thoughts because after so long this was vv hard to write.
i hope you are well and that you have enjoyed this at least a little bit
#genshin x reader#capitano x reader#genshin impact#genshin capitano#genshin fanfic#genshin x gn reader#genshin reader insert#genshin harbingers#not om#HI HI#my writing#oneshot#genshin oneshots#genshin dottore
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Tranquil SAGAU - Part 2
-> Part 1
-> Part 3
"How does it feel like, to fly?" You asked idly, cuddling into Dvalin's feathered, soft back.
"I could show you," is what you got for an answer.
And so here you were, flying over Mondstadt (the country) and being utterly speechless at how little justice the game did to the utter beauty of it all.
Hills of grass and farmlands (it made so much sense for Mondstadt to be a country of agriculture, of farming, how had you not thought of it before?) rolled lazily wherever the eye could see, stretching well over the horizon.
Forests swayed with the wind as Dvalin flied by, lush crowns blending into one another and protecting the animals underneath.
Lakes and rivers cut through the monotony of greens and browns with a brilliant blue, sparkling in the sun like Edward Cullen.
The mountains of Liyue, so small you had the impulse to grab them into your hands despite how far away they were, were like an extension of Mondstadt -- a slow and steady rise from a mere molehill to a towering behemoth overlooking the vast world.
Dragonspine, instead of playing into the beauty of Mondstadt, seemed to go directly against it. Using it to enhance its' own presence, to have your eye stray and appreciate the cold, ethereal mountain of snow and ice instead. It looked deceptively peaceful from so far away - the nearly permament snow storm looking like a translucent garb shrugged elegantly onto white robes of an indifferent jade beauty, whose mere gaze could freeze you to death.
And Mondstadt (the city) looked like a mere speck of dust in the grand scheme of it all.
"How pretty," you couldn't help but say, head swaying to and fro as you enjoy the view and the gentle winds from where you sat, sprawled out like a starfish on the dragon's back.
You kind of saw a pattern there, but you certaintly weren't complaining.
Dvalin huffs a laugh.
"It is only natural, Teyvat was made by the All-Mother. Anything made by their hand is bound to be beautiful."
You laugh, loud and unrestrained and uncaring, because there was no one to scold you for being yourself anymore, "Indirectly complimenting yourself, are you?"
And Dvalin laughs too, a deep rumble of a laugh that has him dipping in altitude for a moment before he rights himself.
It was nice.
"I'm hungry."
"Then we shall land."
. . • ☆ . ° . • ° : . * ₊ ° . ☆
While you ate some fruits that a few adorable squirrels offered to you almost as soon as you landed (which made you melt into a puddle of happiness again, because they were so cute it hurt and they let you pet them a few times before they left), Dvalin made himself comfortable and started speaking. He wove stories like a master seamstress --of Teyvat, of Mondstadt, of Barbatos and of his own past--, giving birth to such vivid imaginery that you almost felt like you were there with him while it all happened.
He was a great storyteller.
The years of friendship between him and Venti probably contributed to it, there is only so long you can go without picking up a few things from an insistent friend after all.
"Durin was a pitiful creature. An artificial existence made by an arrogant Alchemist of Khaenri'ah in a futile attempt to recreate the All-Mother's miracle of creation, wishing for freedom and friendship but unable to attain them."
Dvalin huffs.
"I had to strike him down, for the safety of Mondstadt. And even on his death bed, not once had he blamed me nor Barbatos, merely wishing we had met in better circumstances."
The mood turns somber.
"His heart still beats in Dragonspine," you say after a while.
Dvalin exhales a long and drawn out breath.
"You will be able to put him to rest, once you grow stronger. It is merely a matter of time."
Quiet protests of you not being the All-Mother, of you simple being (Name) and nothing else, are quickly shoved to the back of your mind and ignored.
Instead, you ask why he believed so.
"You have purged me of the Abyssal filth that had tortured me for centuries with your mere presence, despite having descended only recently. That is enough confirmation."
You blink in suprise.
Didn't that mean you were much earlier in the timeline that you thought?
Huh.
Something to think through while you monch on the fruits.
Then again, did it really matter how early into the timeline you transmigrated? You weren't an ambitious person and you didn't crave adventure and excitement. People like you manned the market stalls rather than making a difference.
...you probably jinxed yourself.
☆(ノ◕ヮ◕)ノ* ✨ Author Note✨
Countdown to All-Mother dearest jinxing themselves and making a difference - however long it takes me to write the next chapter!
Now, ✨how do I taglist people cuties✨
I am trying to tag someone but the @ can't find them, someone heeeeeeelp I'm poking and fat-fingering everything on their profile but it doesn't work :(
Also, if someone is bored of boring music check out The Kiffness on youtube, I'm having a Kiffness x Goat collab on repeat and it's dope af.
Kookee kookee with a cockatiel is dope too.
And the cat jams.
He has a whole playlist of just cat jams, what more does a coach potat like me need?
#genshin sagau#sagau x reader#sagau#genshin impact#x reader#genshin x reader#isekai#x gender neutral reader#x gn reader#x gn y/n#self aware genshin
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Hi! Could I request a bit of angst to fluff? Maybe Kaeya, Tighnari, Aether, and Itto when there s/o leaves without telling them to clear their head after an argument and they get worried thinking they left them? I'm not sure that makes sense, but I hope it does.
Thank you!
It makes sense!! Thank you so much for your request and I'm so sorry it took a long time to write for you!! I hope you still enjoy it though!
─⊰⊹ฺ🎃𝔾𝕖𝕟𝕤𝕙𝕚𝕟 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕𝕔𝕒𝕟𝕠𝕟𝕤⊰⊹ฺ🎃
{༻~Have you left me~༺}
CW: Angst to fluff! Past arguments but making up in the end! Characters think the reader may have left them! Kaeya drinks some wine to ease the pain! Very slight mention of the abyss twin in Aethers.
(Includes: Itto, Tighnari, Kaeya, and Aether!)
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
𑁍༄Itto:
Itto combed a hand through his thick white hair, trying to make sense of how everything had went bad so quickly, how the two of you had actually gotten into a full blown argument...he loved you so much, why did he start yelling back, what was wrong with him. He sighed, not knowing how to make it better, he wanted to go after you, but you'd just left. What if you didn't want to see him, what if you didn't want anything to do with him... what if you no longer wanted to be his one and oni...
"Come on Itto, use that brain of yours. What do you do when you've upset someone? Apologize. Right right okay, gotta apologize. Flowers? Those are romantic...but maybe to cheesy! What if...yes thats it!" He made a plan out loud, hurrying to get what was needed before running out the door after you. He searched for hours, checking every spot he'd ever caught you in, asking around for you to every person he saw until finally...he found you.
You were sitting under the shade of a lavender melon tree, eyes puffy from tears and nose red from the cold, you looked heart broken...,"Hey, I know you don't want to talk to me right now, for good reason too but I have to talk to you okay! I'm not good with words, but I know how to say sorry...and I know how to say I love you and in case you don't believe me...I wanted to give you something..."
You looked up at him, eyes widened when you saw a golden beetle trophy in his hands...to anyone else this would have been ridiculous, but you knew it was something he cherished, probably even his most precious item, "What... why would you...that's the most important thing in the world to you..."
He shook his head, setting the trophy in front of you, "No you're wrong, you're the most important thing in the world to me and I'm really really sorry I made you upset. I'll do anything to make it better, you can throw beans at me, I'll give you all of my candy stash...I'll even give you my prizes beetles...I just want to be with you."
You started to cry more, which caught him a little off guard, but these were happy tears..."I want to be with you too...and I'm sorry for what I said...I love you Itto."
"I love you more"
𑁍༄Tighnari:
Tighnari rubbed his eyes, trying to dry the tears that didn't seem to have a end, his ears droopy and you...the person he loved with all his heart, had just walked out without a word. Was it over? Was he never going to be able to hug you again? He just couldn't accept it, he needed you in his life and maybe he hadn't said that enough, but he'd say it as many times as you wanted as long as your promised to come back with him.
He quickly threw on a extra coat, he had no plan and no way of knowing where you had went, but even if it took all night, he'd find you just to apologize, just to let you know how much he adored you. He'd search the entire forest if he had to.
Thankfully it wasn't needed, after a few hours his ears perked up, the soft sounds of your sobs reverberating off cave walls, the place he had shown you one time while gathering herbs...it was by a waterfall that held glowing algae and he's been wanting to take you back for so long... he never would have thought the two of you revisiting would be at a time like this..
He made his way to you and sat down, feeling a pang in his chest when you scooched away, it hurt...fighting with you, "I'm...I'm so sorry. Im sure you don't even want to hear it, but I don't think I've ever been so upset with myself before. I love you and I have never wanted to make you unhappy...you...you are my person. My soulmate. The one. Please...I don't want you to leave, I don't want us to end...I can't...loose you."
His voice started to break, sentences getting harder to finish, he couldn't even picture his life without you anymore and the horrible thought that it could happen because of his mistakes was eating him alive...
"I don't...want to loose you either Tighnari... soulmates go both ways. I'm yours and you're mine and I love you,...I just don't want to fight." You swallowed roughly, trying to stop yourself from crying even more as he wrapped his coat around you and pulled you into him, embracing you tighter than he ever had, "I love you too, and I promise...no more fighting."
𑁍༄Kaeya:
Kaeya took another sip from his wine bottle, trying to calm himself down...he almost never got into confrontations, in fact he always avoided them, preferring to smooth talk his way out of situations instead...,but what had went down between the two of you was anything but smooth. He'd said such hurtful things, he didn't even mean to, he'd just lost his cool and then you ran off before he could apologize and now...here he was, sitting under the stars trying to drink away his feelings when he knew full well it wasn't going to solve anything.
Then as he was sitting there, staring off into space...he caught sight of you, just barely outside the city walls, throwing rocks into the water with a satisfying splash while sniffling and holding yourself for comfort between tosses. Suddenly his wine lost any flavour, his mind drawn back to when he first met you, the way your eyes sparkled, the way your smile made his heart skip a beat...and how you laughed at his advances, completely oblivious to his feelings.
He picked himself off the chair he'd been sitting on, left his bottle waiting on the table for a cheery bard to find and then made his way over to you, more serious and determined than he had been in a very long time. The second he was close enough he gently intertwined you hand with his, spinning you for a brief second so your eyes would meet and your body would be close to his...the air felt cold, but he had a warm smile and before you could even attempt to push him away he kissed your lips.
It was unlike any kiss you'd ever had with him, it was passionate...slow...apologetic, it conveyed everything he wanted to say to you without ever saying a word and when he pulled back, his forehead rested against yours, he begged you to stay with him.
𑁍༄Aether:
Aether was running, running past branches and shrubbery, past trees and jumping over rocks, he wasn't worried about what scratches or bruises he'd have by the time he got to you, all he was worried about...all that was running through his mind, was his apology to you. He didn't know what had even started the argument anymore, he didn't care, he just needed you to know he was wrong and that he loved you, that he didn't want you to go, that he couldn't let you go.
He frantically searched around, looking for signs of you while he tripped over sticks and stomped into muddy puddles, "Hello!!" He shouted for you, his eyes scanning the moonlit trees and then, in the distance, he saw a faint light. It was the lamp you had taken with you when you'd left without a word and his first sign that you were near him. He ran to it, knowing full well he looked like a mess when he finally caught up to you, panting and covered in dirt....he looked like he'd just been through a hurricane.
"Aether what the hell-"
"No n-no, wait let me start. I just, i-i just had to follow you because none of what I said was true, I love you. That's the truth. I'd r-run to the ends of the earth to tell you that and then I'd do it again to prove it if you asked me to. Please, forgive me. I can't go on without you, I can't loose you too..." He looked away, trying not to think about his sister...about what it would be like if he didn't have you in his life anymore...what reason would he even have to continue?
"Did you really run...all the way here?"
"Yes, I love you and I don't want you to go..."
"I love you too Aether...and it's okay, I just wanted to clear my head, I'm not leaving." You went to kiss him...but decided it better wait till after he had been cleaned, you'd never had someone run so far just for you before...
♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡♡
◥(•̀₩•́)◤☪︎ ִ ࣪𖤐 ☾𖤓~Have a nice day~*.✧
#genshin impact#genshin headcanons#genshin fanfic#genshin#genshin x reader#genshin x you#genshin fluff#genshin angst#itto x reader#itto headcanons#itto fluff#itto angst#itto x you#tighnari fluff#tighnari angst#tighnari x reader#tighnari x you#tighnari headcanons#kaeya x reader#kaeyaxyou#kaeya fluff#kaeya angst#kaeya headcanons#aether x you#aether x reader#aether headcanons#aether fluff#aether genshin impact
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COULDA, WOULDA, SHOULDA, DIDN'T (ALTERNATE ENDING).
➳ synopsis: aventurine has never lost. that's what he tells people when he makes bets and in passing conversation about gambling. but every night when he lays in bed, he will always think about the day he almost lost you. angst version.
➳ character/s: aventurine
➳ warnings: 2.1 spoilers, aventurine backstory spoilers, aventurine real name spoilers, mentions of death, slavery (it's not romanticised, you're safe-), mentions of torture, blood, hurt/comfort, marriage, sleeping together (literally), reader described as beautiful
➳ word count: 0.7k
➳ notes: here's the happy version for those who were asking for it LMAO also i jumped on the bandwagon of fic writers inspired by aventurine official art-
𝐫𝐞𝐪𝐮𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐫𝐮𝐥𝐞𝐬 / 𝐜𝐡𝐚𝐫𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐞𝐫 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 / 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐚𝐬𝐭𝐞𝐫𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭𝐬 / 𝐰𝐢𝐩 𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭
aventurine will never forget the day he met you. he himself didn't know much better than you did as you ran for your lives as children, but he knew he never wanted to see you like that ever again. that night, he thinks he fell in love.
even with the heavy metal cuffs crushing your wrists, he thought you were beautiful. in the most horrible circumstances, you found solace in each other's arms. aventurine made it a habit to kiss your brand mark and then your forehead as he let you use his arm as a pillow. any screams of pain either of you made as you were roughly dragged from your cell to undergo 'disciplining' haunt your minds in the rare moments of emptiness.
the day aventurine was bought away by jade, he's never felt fear quite the same as looking back and seeing you be dragged away by your cuffs, calling out for him as he left while you were pulled further down the abyss of pain and agony.
"i'll come back for you, wait for me!" he yelled behind him. he was desperate, he didn't know if he would ever get to come back for you and ultimately, that scared him more. the idea that his last interaction with you was filled with despair only fueled his desire to rise to the top. he would free himself and ensure that when (if) he freed you, you would have everything you needed immediately.
aventurine remembers the day he came back for you. he'd beat up a lot of guards, and possibly killed a couple, only to find you unconscious and bleeding onto the cold concrete floor in your cell. scrambling to his knees, he held you in his arms and bolted out the door, desperately praying to whatever god would listen that you were alive.
he lived a nightmare as you recuperated in hospital, but nothing came close to making him cry since leaving you than holding your hand and kissing you all over again as if it was your first time. each night as he slept in the chair beside your hospital bed, he wondered what would've happened if he never got to you or was too late.
when he proposed to you, it felt like a fever dream. when he woke up the next morning to see you beside him, ring glinting in the morning sun and cheek pressed into a silk pillowcase rather than dusty concrete. he smiled in adoration, pulling you closer by the waist and chuckling at your sleepy whine of protest before burying your head into his chest and falling back asleep. taking your hand in his, he kissed the ring he'd given to you as a token of your engagement, resting his chin atop your head.
his phone rang and he sighed, blindly reaching behind him to check who was calling him. dr. ratio.
groggily, he answered. "you're calling early, don't you know i'm spending my paid leave with my wonderful fiance?"
aventurine could practically hear the eye roll from dr. ratio over the phone. "i am well aware, i just thought you would want to be informed that i have located your old master that was missing from the premises when you were searching for them," he said, probably polishing one of his marble busts to occupy himself.
"...keep an eye on him. i'll figure out what to do with him when i get more sleep." and with that, aventurine hung up the phone. he returned his attention to you and caressed his thumb over your hip as he pondered this newfound information.
he could've lost you if he didn't get there when he did. he's grateful for that, because he can have you by his side forever and a little bit more. he would've come looking for you to discover you'd died if he didn't push himself harder than recommended to rise to the top. he should've lost you, for that is what the sick gods on some alternate plane of reality deemed reasonable for his kind.
he didn't.
#honkai star rail#hsr#aventurine#hsr aventurine#honkai star rail x reader#hsr x reader#aventurine x reader#hsr aventurine x reader#honkai star rail imagines#hsr imagines#aventurine imagines#hsr aventurine imagines
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i love reading your fics, they always give me 🦋🦋🦋 i love them so much, so, i want to make a request a angst-comfort where zoro and reader are dating but they got into a fight (*cough* zoro got jealous and starts to question reader's loyalty *cough*) but it ends happily because I don't want cry. n e way, continue writing stories, you write them so well... 😚
im so glad you like my work!! and thankyouu so much for sending in the request, let's get to itt <3
moss and towel ft. roronoa zoro!
set-up: in which, you and zoro have been dating for six months. but after one fight night and growing distances, he finds himself questioning everything you've built together.
warnings: (poor attempts at writing) angst, zoro acts like an idiot, profanities. yeah, that's about it.
the winds were cruel tonight and even crueler were you. atleast there was some comfort in the cold gusts, some reason in the way they played against the swordsman's skin and left behind selfish goosebumps. atleast, he could attempt to understand it with nami's weather charts or whatnot.
but you. how could he attempt to understand you?
his eyebrows bunched as he stared up, fixing his gaze against the twinkling points. groaning, he put his hand over his eyes. maybe in a way, sure, it was his fault. he was never good with words or those fancy poems or haikus. he was never the one to resort to affection. but how was he supposed to fix this?
the first mate of the ship rested a fraction of his bodyweight against the wooden railing of the crow's nest. the wind tousled his unkempt hair and running a hand through his moss-green locks, he vaguely tried to remember how long it had been since nami dragged him into the bathroom and gave him a haircut again.
probably too long. he concluded with a sigh as the soft tresses caressed the mid-point of the back of his neck.
he was supposed to meet his girlfriend here. that's what had been decided. just you, him and the infinitely infinite night sky. the swordsman had even decided to talk about his feelings 'neath the dark abyss of the sky (even if he hated the mere idea of that).
but it had been 30 minutes and there were no signs of you anywhere.
life had been hectic for the both of you lately, whether it was because of the constant run-ins with the marines, zoro having to accompany luffy to side-quests or some other shit the sea sprouted every once in a while. either ways, it meant that you and him saw less and less of each-other as each day passed him by.
resigning himself to a tired sigh, zoro decided to climb downwards. you were not gonna come, that much was sure.
as his heavy feet planted against the wooden floor, he took a second to collect his thoughts. he started walking the stairs to go under the deck, to the common space where most of the crew lounged at the end of the day. descending, he thought of all possible explainations. maybe you had been caught by someone else and forced to listen to one of their anecdotes, maybe nami had asked you to help with the log pose calculations of the last island, or maybe chopper wanted you to help him grind some fresh medicine.
maybe-
he stepped inside the common place with heavy footsteps and a heavier heart and immediately saw you. you, ever so beautiful with you soft smiles and your lame jokes. you with your flowing hair and unruly habits. you, that was currently laughing along to something that shit-cook was talking about.
he must have caught your gaze cause you immediately looked away from sanji and to your boyfriend, giving him a soft smile. but he left the room without returning that gesture and you found yourself on your feet, walking after him and confused.
you trailed after him, calling his name out sweetly till you reached his room and he shut the door before you could get in.
"hey!" you laughed playfully, twisting the handle with ease and stepping inside. you closed the door behind you and tucked your arms around your chest, sporting a lively pout.
but he seemed to have to reaction to your antics, instead, deciding to carefully lay his three swords on the bed behind him as if he was courting the swords and not you.
"what's up with you?" you raised an eyebrow at him, amused by the way the man sat at the edge of the bed with an annoyed huff. when he said nothing, you pressed again, this time a bit more direct, "why are you grumbling now?"
he's been like this for the past few days and now that he refused to elaborate, you found your patience slipping off of you like a thin overcoat, leaving you behind in your ugly, impatient skin.
today had been hard, like any other day. and for some reason or the other, instead of inviting you into his arms, this man had swore to make your life even more difficult.
"zorooo," groaning, you asked again, "can you stop being so dramatic?"
his head snapped up, eyes finding yours with wicked ease. his jaw was clenched tight, face red as if he was burning up, "i am being dramatic? me?"
"yeah? you're being so fucking weird." you sighed, "why?"
"i dunno, go ask that fucking cook maybe?" he grumbled.
if the exasperation on your face wasn't obvious until now, after that comment, it was surely on full display.
"what?" you hissed, "what is up with you and all these weird accusations?"
"as i said, i dunno. ask that fuckin' waiter instead, why don't you? i'm sure he'd have some answers lined up."
"why are you dragging sanji into this?"
"why are you defending him?" he stood up, his face mirroring your exasperation tenfold. he crossed his arms similarly to yours and the muscles shifted impatiently under his shirt.
you threw you hands upwards, "im not defending him! i am aski—"
"—yes you are defending him, don't even."
you were tired.
god knew you every inch of your muscles were alight with exhaustion, your head was pounding and if he wanted to fight you, you wouldn't even have it in you to fight back. these past few days had been enough on their own. so, you sighed, taking on a resigned tone, "i am so tired, zoro. can't we do it another day?"
"yeah, right." he grumbled again, his eyebrows bunching together in a characteristic manner, "everything needs to be pushed back with you, right?"
"what is that supposed to mean?" you were sure smoke was rising from the top of your head and your pupils were comically blown out, "i was tired and wanted to take some time off, so, i had sat down. and sanji found me to make some ideal chit-chat. god forbid i be tired for once-"
"i was waiting at the crow's nest for the past 30 minutes, where were you?"
"huh—" fuck. your eyes widened as the terrible realization set in. almost on instinct, your fingers reached out to touch him so as to makeup for the terrible deed you had committed. but your boyfriend pulled himself back, dodging your careful grasp before rasping out, "don't."
"zoro, i'm sorry! really, i genuinely cannot believe i forgot—"
"so, you forgot me over that fucking cook?"
"no!" you repeated, slower, "no, of course not. i was just tired and—"
"—and you decided to go off with him instead?" he scoffed, "i thought we were dating and yet, i think we've barely had any time to just spend together. every time it's someone or the other you have to rely on, not me."
"zoro..." you started carefully but he cut off you off, "don't zoro me. it's either nami or sanji or luffy or someone or the other. i wouldn't be surprised if you're fucking blondie behind my back too."
you stared at him, shocked. the wretched feeling gnawed at your insides till you looked at him in pure, utter disgust. the corners of your eyes burned up and you spat out, "don't fucking talk to me."
and you left the room, slamming the door shut behind you.
zoro stared at the place you were standing at and then slowly dragged his eyes at the door that you had slammed shut.
fuck.
⋆⭒˚。⋆🪐⋆⭒˚。⋆
well into the night, when he finally had swallowed his pride and mentally beat himself enough, he walked out of his room.
his steps were slow, stride careful so to not panic the mostly sleeping crew. searching through the washroom and the kitchen, the supply closet and chopper's tiny, stashed-away office, he failed to find you. then, he stepped out onto the deck and in a clean sweep, found you at the port side. the wind blew ideally though your hair and you stood with your arms on the railing.
the swordsman silently walked up to you, choosing to stand beside you without saying much. and if he had hoped for you to start the conversation, he was in for a long, long night.
"hey" he finally started off.
"i think i told you to not talk to me."
your feet shifted and you balanced your bodyweight away from him and he pursed his lips. standing in silence, the sounds of waves crashing against the ship painted you both in a uncomfortable hues.
he tried again, "i- i am sorry, really."
"don't care, didn't ask."
roronoa zoro bit the inside of his cheek, savoring the taste of foul rejection in his mouth over and over. but he had never been the one to go out without a fight. hell, he was the king of hell.
"but i am sorry." he repeated and his calloused fingers inched closer to yours, a poor attempt to ghost his skimming touches over your hand. but you were quicker and you pulled your hands back to yourself and wrapped them around yourself.
he slowly withdrew his hand and his head hung low, "how long are you gonna be mad at me?"
"i don't know? probably till i want to."
"babe—"
"—don't babe me."
"i am sorry—"
"—to fuCKING HELL WITH YOUR SORRY!" your cool demeanor washed off and you bore daggers into his paper-like skin as you stared him down. your breath was laboured and you were sure your yells must have woken someone, if not the entire crew.
he stayed silent, ready to face the consequences of his actions. and although venom was a resident on your tongue, looking at his guilt-struck face, you were reduced to nothing but a dumbfounded, little girl.
whatever you had planned, whatever you had thought you'd call him, whatever accusations you had thrown you'd throw at him dissolved at the tip of your tongue. and instead, an ugly feeling stirred under your skin. the feeling sunk heavy in your chest and your stomach and your head and heart and every other crevice of you. bile crawled up your scratchy throat and the same waterworks made home on your lash line.
when you spoke, you were sure your voice sounded more like a desperate plea than a demand for apology.
"why? why did you say that? that was low."
he looked down at his feet, his fingers twiddling against the sword hilt of his wado ichimonji in an attempt to self-soothe, "i know it was wrong. i was just so angry."
"and that makes it okay for you to question my loyalty?" you sniffed, feeling the watery weight cascade down your cheeks.
"no!" he looked up, alarmed, "no! ofcourse it doesn't. i never was— i was just—" he paused, wincing, "—i was jealous of him."
"sanji?!"
he continued, agonized, "yes, the damn cook. and everyone else, i guess. you seemed to have time for everyone but me."
"zoro, why didn't you just say it out loud to me?" you whispered softly. inching closer to him, you rested your palm against his warm cheek. his growing stubble lightly tickled your skin. you hummed softly when he closed his eyes and leaned into your touch, pressing an easy kiss to your fingers. "because i- i just couldn't bring myself to. i'm sorry, i should have talked to you rather than being a prick, really."
"i am sorry too. i know we haven't spent any time for the past two weeks or so. i was so busy within myself that i didn't reach out to you." your fingers played gently against the scars on his face from years of training, "these past few days have been hard—"
"—they've been hell."
you laughed despite yourself, "yeah, i guess they've been hell."
his eyes swayed against yours in a guilt-ridden dance, "forgive me?"
you paused a beat, "do you trust me?"
his answer came more easily than breathing did, "more than i trust myself."
you hummed, "sure?"
and he just nodded. as moments passed you both by, he finally quipped up, "so, am i forgiven?"
"well..." you pondered for a second, "technically, i did fuck up too. so, yeah, you're forgiven." you glared at him, "just never say that kinda shit again."
he smiled and when he spoke, he offered a kind explaination, "i didn't actually mean you were fucking the cook. i just- just kinda said it."
"eh," you waved off his comment, "i don't wanna fuck blondes, anyways. to be honest, not really my type."
"huh?!" his eyes widened in play-pretend, "so his hair colour is holding you back?"
"i mean i'm more into idiots who grow slowly on me. like moss does on a wet towel."
roronoa zoro— bounty hunter, pirate, first mate to a terrifying crew, kind of hell, demon, whatever— looked appalled. "are you comparing me to moss?"
"i am comparing how you grew on me to the lowest form of moss that even grows on the stupidest surfaces."
"don't call yourself stupid, now."
you huffed and turned around, walking towards the stairways that led to the rooms, "i am gonna stop talking to you again!"
he laughed, taking in easy strides to walk after you, "just kidding. i promise. your moss, ever and forever more."
he met your pace, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. you gave him a wayward grin, "good."
he gave you one right back, "great."
"i'm tired."
"me too."
as you both disappeared back into your room, hand in hand, you made a comment about how much his hair grew and he responded with "like moss grows on a wet towel?". next morning you found yourself waking up to the swordsman's heavy snores and heavier body against you.
stupid moss-head.
a/n: i think i like how this turned out lol. hope it's okay @rkiveinmarvel and as always, thank you to anyone else who reads this <3
#one piece#opla#op#roronoa zoro#one piece zoro#zoro x reader#roronoa zoro x reader#zoro fluff#one piece fluff#zoro fanfic#zoro imagine
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bloody confessions
synopsis - in a sudden realisation they may never see you again, they have something to say
includes - diluc, kaeya, xiao, sara, cyno, wriothesley
warnings - gn!reader, angst to comfort in some, angst, mentions of blood, reader is fighter in kaeya's and sara's, reader dies in kaeya's(sorry), wriothesely may be occ, enemies to lovers, wc - 2.1k
diluc ragnvindr ★↷
mistakes. diluc has made alot of those in his life, some of them worse than others. but the worse one to date is letting you end up in this condition.
you were one of diluc's most trusted friends since his childhood, someone that stuck through him thick and thin. but someone along that line of friendship you had started to wish that it was something slightly more than a strong friendship. but you had no idea if diluc felt the same and not wanting to make things awkward you kept quiet about your growing feelings.
but little did you know diluc felt the same way. but both of you were scared that the other may not feel the same way. but passers-by could see that both of you were struggling with your feelings. more specifically diluc's brother kaeya. who practically couldn't help but cringe at the awkwardness knowing his brother was hopelessly in love with you but couldn't bring himself to confess.
but eventually with a little prodding from kaeya, diluc starrted to plan his way to confess. even eventually asking adeline for help, who couldn't help but smile at the idea of diluc finally confessing. but it seemed the archon's weren't in his favour.
on the day if his confession diluc went out to meet you in his wineyard. as the previous day he asked you to meet him there. but after 10 - 15 minutes of waiting passed the time agreed, you hadnt shown up. he tried to tell himself you were just running late that you would be here any minute but that was doing little to his hopes of confessing. eventually he heard someone approaching. thinking it was you he started mentally preparing himself, until ge saw adeline round the corner wearing a concerned look. 'master diluc I'm afraid I've come bearing bad news' this sent his mind into a spiral. 'what kind of bad news?' he was hoping to the archons it wasn't to do with you but seeing as adeline told him presumably right away it was serious. 'im afraid your going to have postpone your confession, they are currently being tended after a serious accident'.
this sent his heart racing, and his mind clouded with worry and anger. adeline explained how some fatui skirmishers had ambushed you and left you in a critical state, dead had not the knights of favonius stepped in. as diluc approached where you were recovering, he had ran into a medic and asked how you were and after confirming you were fine and just needed to rest but he could go see you, he couldn't help but grimace at your bloodied state. matted hair, bandage's, archons he wished he was there to save you. he knelt beside you taking your slightly cold but warming hand in his he pressed it to his lips and in a moment of weakness spilled out all his confessions, knowing you were unconscious and probably wouldnt hear him, but it made him feel better.
kaeya alberich ★↷
you two were known as an unstoppable duo in the knights of favonius. his stragetic thinking paired with your power in combat, you two were a package deal. but recently that had been concerns with more abyss mage's showing up near mondstadt's border. needing only you to go out and sort out the arising problem.
this concerned kaeya more than it should've. to most it seemed like he was worried because you were working partners and this was the first mission in a while you would be separated. and he thought so too. he tried to think rationally but the longer he tried to deny his budding feelings for you, the stronger they became. and he could only hope you returned safely and maybe he could get over his denial and confess.
so on the day you were meant to return, exactly 3 days you were set to be gone - he kept track, kaeya couldn't focus in his work and instead promted to wait for you. he waited until he saw a figure in the distance thinking it was you he got up excitedly, until he saw more people with the figure and the closer they came he noticed you. but you weren't looking like your normal self. you laid unconscious in another knights arm's as they rushed passed him hoping to get you the urgent treatment you needed. he was frozen in place for a while until he realised he needed to check how you were.
he paced outside where you were being treated waiting for the medic's to let him in as he was told it wasn't wise for him to be in there while you were being treated. until the noises of the medics near your bed went silent as tine seemed to stop. panic-stricken, he barged into where you were to see the grimaces on everyone's faces as they didnt stop him from teaching out to grab your hand. your hand that felt colder than anything he had ever felt before.
adeptus xiao ★↷
xiao was reluctant to let you, a mortal, into his life. he was scared his karmic debt would affect you aswell as his past comrade's. but you were insistent on becoming the yaksha's friend. and eventually you earned a spot in his heart.
eventually after being close to the yaksha for a while he started feeling a new feeling he had never felt before. whenever you dragged him to do things he felt a flutter in his stomach that made him feel weird. he didn't know what to do. everytime you smiled at him or did something with or for him he felt this way and he was at loss of what to do about it. maybe it would just go away.
that was until one day he returned to the wangshu inn and verr goldet immediately called for him to tell him 'just to be clear, they should be fine-', that set him up in alarm. there was only one person that verr goldet would know that he had a bond with. you. he immediately went to your room in the wangshu inn, after listening to verr goldet explain the whole story to him.
he looked upon you bandaged body that hid your worst wounds from him. why didn't you call for him? he knelt beside you and with no explanation looked ahead and started spewing out confessions about how you made him feel. 'you are the only person to make me feel these things, stay and help me understand them.'
kujou sara ★↷
you were an upcoming soilder in the tenryou commission. you had alot of potential and that attracted even the general herself. she never really was that intrested in her fellow soilders, she got along with them sure that's what any good general would do but you seemed different.
originally she thought it was your quick rise in the ranks, or something similar. but it seemed different when she had a small twinge of jealousy stir within her when a soilder became overly friendly with you. she also found intrest in how when sparring, you wanted to spar with her and surprisingly managed to keep up pretty well.
but eventually you were placed on a patrol with some other similar ranking commission members a fair way away from the camp. she had made decisions like this for a while but this one felt different and more personal for her. she pushed those feelings back and insisted to herself that they would pass. although she still counted down the days till you returned not that she would admit.
but when you returned you were beaten, bruised and completely bloody, the only one to return. you passed out before you even stepped into the camp and had to be rushed back into inazuma for urgent treatment. turns out your camp was ambushed and destroyed within seconds. Sara felt an indescribable amount of fear at the thought of losing you so she felt compelled to finish the mission as quickly as possible and check up on you and maybe get revenge. this was a shock to other soilders but no one spoke about it, they wouldn't dare. but sara was more aware of her feelings now and as much as she hated to think of it but maybe confessing to you wasn't that bad when you recovered.
cyno ★↷
you had met the general mahamatra through your friend tighnari. you were a nature researcher who had moved to sumeru to learn more about avidya forest and its close by equivalents. and your old friend tighnari was the forest watcher at avidya. however soon introduced you to cyno.
you had originally only planned to spend 6 months in sumeru but the bountiful enviroments and the people you met meant you stayed longer than intended. and eventually you were offered a job in looking at nature in the desert of hadramaveth. it was a way away but you had high hopes for it. however cyno felt slightly differently. over the past months cyno had started developing what tighnari had to point out to him, a crush.
on the day you were to depart, you bid farewells and cyno watched you feeling uneasy at knowing you would be a long way away for a month. he wanted to go with you to ensure your safety (totally not to spend time with you) but he had his duties to attend to and you're expedition team was sure to make a safe trip there and back. however one day, a week before your expected return, there was an uproar in one of the akademiya's medical bay's. cyno thought nothing of it until he saw tighnari rushing over there and stopped him just to find out your expedition had been ultimately destroyed by a setekh wenut, which you had accidentally stumbled across.
cyno was furious that your safety was widely disregarded and the akademiya hadn't provided enough protection, but was ultimately relieved that you had survived. sure you were a bit worse for wear but you were alive, unlike a few expedition members. and in those moments that cyno visited you until you recovered he realised that if you were to die he would've been distraught he never confessed to you. but maybe soon he would.
wriothesley ★↷
you and wriothesley had a complicated relationship some might say. but to each other you were rival's. no doubt about you hated each other. you two would constantly try to one up the other or never fail to make a snarky remark if spotted in the same room. but sometimes the lines between rivalry and something else blurred as wriothesley sometimes couldn't help but find how adorable you looked when you were angry and to him that was just something to tease you with more.
sometimes the people of fontaine, especially older folks, would find your petty rivalries exhausting to witness. sometimes one of you would stoop to the lowest of the lows and find a way to 'prank the other' but that sometimes ends up looking like a children's squabble. a petty, ridiculous and downright tiring squabble.
however at the end of the day you both had jobs. very respectable jobs at that. and sometimes that did mean working with each other which meant that it would come to a unspoken agreement to not continue your rivalry in the workplace. but after a particular day of hardwork wriothesley had overheard a particular conversation from two fontaine citizens about how you had encountered a fatal accident with some fatui members. that made his blood run colder than his cryo vision. there's no way you would lose to some fatui members.. right? probably just gossip roaming the streets of fontaine. yeah that's it.
well it wasn't. he kept hearing about it more and more until he decided to go and see to these 'rumors' himself. so he went over to the medic's himself and asked if you were here and to his fear, you were. the rumors were true. in a moment of panic he demanded to see you but was told that you were still under observation and he could come back tomorrow and visit. so thats what he did.
as soon as he was allowed he went straight to see you, for reasons that escaped him. he gazed down at your bloody, slight frostbitten body and let out a sigh he didint know he was holding and preceded to let out all the unspoken feelings he had that were hidden behind snark comments and teasing actions. he knew you hadn't heard him but it felt good to get it out. he slowly raised your hand to his lips, and left.
#x gender neutral reader#genshin x reader#genshin x gn reader#diluc x reader#kaeya x reader#adeptus xiao x reader#xiao x reader#kujou sara x reader#cyno x reader#wriothesley x reader#genshin angst#genshin x reader angst#genshin impact x reader#genshin impact x gender neutral reader
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Blessed
A/N: Long post. Basically me daydreaming the Forgotten Sea Myth. Just trying to connect things in the story and other myths together. I know Rafayel and the player met as kids, but I don't know how that story connects to this myth, and the myth never alludes to meeting before. IDK, things are not accurate for sure.
You should have died when you fell into the sea, but somehow you survived. Probably because of the man, the Lemurian, who currently stood before you. His face displayed obvious disinterest, yet here you were, alive by his whim. He asked why he should spare your life. You were intended to be the sacrifice. So you lunged at him, selfishly kissing him because you were desperate to live.
You didn’t understand the consequences of your action. The action of affection for humans meant much more for Lemurians. You just wanted to live, but for Rafayel, his bond began. He should have cursed you for stealing his lips, taking his heart, before he could give it to you. But now the emotions filled him, and his senses were heightened. He didn’t know you. Didn’t want you, but now you were stuck together. So he introduced you as the chosen one for the rite and tried to ignore the look in Amund’s face. The elder somehow knew what had happened, and he wondered if the young god’s heart could bear the sacrifice he was offering up.
“A god must always protect his followers,” Rafayel firmly stated.
“They too must be a willing follower, young one”.
The ceremony was months away. In the meantime, Rafayel kept you nearby. Initially he seemed to ignore you, even fall asleep as you looked about your new world with curiosity. Your discoveries were mundane after centuries of being alive. Yet if you ever wandered away, you would always find yourself bumping into him. And while he valued silence, Rafayel found himself more irritated in not knowing the thoughts that swirled around in your head. A strained closeness formed. Rafayel encouraged your curiosity and discoveries. But everything he did was to prepare you for the role you were to play in his ascent to full godhood. He didn’t really know you, didn’t want to know you. Life soon began to feel like a prison. You wanted the warmth of the sun and the sand. You wanted the taste of fruits. You wanted to hear more than the ocean depths. Above all, you wanted to feel cherished. Naturally, Rafayel objected to letting you go.
“What could Lemuria possibly lack?”
It lacked many things, namely that it wasn’t ever meant to be a home for humans. How could he expect you to live here forever? Everyday the sea bit into your soul.
“A god with a heart,” you muttered in frustration.
Your words must have hit home for the deity took a step back and looked genuinely distressed. It was odd, and though you wanted to stand your ground, the unexpected reaction made you reach out to him. It was the first time you touched him. A light hand on his shoulder. A hand you expected him to shrug off. Instead Rafayel crumbled into you, almost leaning his entire weight into your hand. His eyes closed and he sharply inhaled. You thought to apologize, maybe explain your emotions better, but before you could, the sea god’s cold blue eyes snapped open and he jerked away from you, stagging off and slammed the door behind him. You were left to stare into the abyss.
You were duty bound to be his follower, but it wasn’t enough. Rafayel knew it wasn’t enough as he read though every slab the library had on Lemurian gods. Your heart had to be in it. At least, that’s why Elder Amund had warned. It seemed to him that the elder always judged Rafayel for not being like his predecessors. They had followers. They had the hearts of the Lemurians and their human counterpart. Rafayel merely had the respect intuitively given to every deity and he detested it, especially when it came from you. Ever since that night, he knew he was doomed to crave more from you. Initially, he thought your act would benefit him. Surely you would be more willing to give your heart and be his follower if you were bonded, right? Instead, he found you languishing like the algae that grew on rocks along the shore. It hurt. His heart screamed at him to do something, anything.
“Followers are gained, not assigned,” Amund’s voice echoed as the elder ghosted past Rafayel into whatever new study took his fancy.
……
Rafayel started down at you, arms crossed and foot tapping, as he waited your answer.
“You’re granting me my freedom?”
The deity’s eyebrows scrunched as he contemplated your question. Then he took a deep breath and repeated his offer.
“One day in the human world. Just the one”.
“And what do you want in return,” you cautiously asked. There was no such thing as a free gift from the gods.
Rafayel pointed at your chest, where your heart pulsed.
Indignation washed over you. One lousy day on land, and he expected you to fork over your heart?! To be so devoted to him, for one day?
“Is that not what you want? To be around the same humans who were ready to sacrifice you?”
By now you were accustomed to the deity’s mockery and barbed tongue. So you met his eyes and challenged the offer.
“You want my heart that bad? Then earn it. That’s my wish”.
For the first time you saw Rafayel’s eyes glimmer as he took in your challenge.
“Easy”.
“You sure?” you asked. “I don’t give my heart away so easily”.
“Good,” the god’s voice spoke softly as a tender look came onto his face.
It was the first time he expressed such an emotion to you. You expected Rafayel to go into full bravados with his attempts at winning your heart. Instead, the deity took you by surprise. He quietened down. Days spent watching Lemurians go about their day. Nights spent watching marine life quietly drift by. He taught you his language. Told you how to name and call out to each species. You could see genuine praise in his eyes when you remembered their names. But it wasn’t just his world that opened up. Rafayel’s curiosity was insatiable. He wanted to see the world through your eyes. To see the beauty you held in your eyes and mimic the songs you heard. He frequently brought you to a small room filled with paintings and tried to recreate your world from your words, surprising you with his accuracy, as if he’s already seen your world. It was inevitable for you to enjoy his company, and though he wouldn’t admit it, the sea god relished in experiencing his first friend. But, you wouldn’t give him your heart.
Time passed, and it seemed that the two of you forgot the original challenge. Ease and general camaraderie replaced roles and expectations. Excitement rose in you when you saw his familiar face and you knew from the twinkle in his eyes, he felt the same. Many times he would break off a conversation with someone to watch you walk by. Only after you disappeared from sight would the Rafayel turn his attention back to his follower. Often, he would consult with you, bouncing off quandaries he faced and genuinely seeking your advice. You started to feel strange. You weren’t sure if Rafayel considered you a friend. Neither one of you even called each other by name. Rafayel wanted you to be his follower, but you weren’t sure anymore what he meant by that. He clearly did not engage with the other Lemurians as he did with you. On sleepless nights, you would ask yourself if you considered yourself the sea god’s follower. Would you follow him wherever he went? Would you endure what he endured, if only, so that he was not alone? Was he always in your thoughts? Did you act in his name? Were you devoted to him? You could never really answer these questions. They were too weighty for the emotions that sprouted within you. But, as the months wore on and the emotions within you began to grow, you came to one undeniable truth.
Elder Amund pronounced the upcoming ceremony. Within a fortnight, Rafayel would ascend to full godhood and the Lemurians would gain another chapter in their history as the new dawn started. Rafayel always knew this day would come, but for the first time, he felt giddy, unsure. He knew you were the reason, but he still had not gathered the courage to ask you the imminent question. No, that wasn’t the whole truth. Rather, Rafayel realized, the question had long changed, and your answer would determine the challenge. Rafayel had not gone a single day without thinking about the challenge. It would determine everything. He frequently basked in your presence these days, always toying with the question he wanted to ask.
“Tomorrow’s the ceremony,” your voice gently broke through the empty corridor.
You both were staring at the temple doors that would lead to the ceremony.
“What will happen during the ceremony?”
“We will be serenaded by the entire ocean. Our chariot will be drawn by marine creatures as we tour around, greeting our followers”.
You scoffed at Rafayel’s obvious lie.
“Not sure I like the idea of being made a spectacle,”
“You’re right. It’s too ornate. I don’t really know the details of the ceremony”.
His response seemed in line to your question, but you could tell Rafayel’s thoughts were elsewhere tonight.
“Would you like to retire early tonight?”
“No”. Rafayel got off the balcony rail and turned towards you. “We can sleep when it’s all over”.
He continued to stare at you, and you waited for him to ask what was clearly consuming him. Ever so gently, Rafayel reached out a hand and placed it on your head. You looked at him, confused. With more confidence, his hand descended down your face to cup your cheek, and though you leaned into his palm, you tensed.
“I have a question for you,” his voice was low. “Tis a very important one. Are you willing to be my follower?”.
It was different this time. Last time it was the sea god who spoke to you. It was the sea god who pointed to your heart and expected you to all but rip it out. But now, all you could see was Rafayel, and you knew there was more contained in that one word, that one request.
“That’s a heavy request. What does the sea god offer in return?”
You raised your hand but began to lower it as the courage slipped away. Rafayel caught it and continued the ascent to his heart. You could feel it steadily pumping against his cool skin.
“And,” you continued, “What does Rafayel offer?”
You watched as Rafayel’s hands entwined with yours, resting the back of your hand against his heart. Then he lowered his head to kiss your knuckles.
When Rafayel looked up, he saw your free hand outstretched towards him. He placed his hand on yours, and watched as you brought his hand to your heart.
“I will be your follower, O Sea God”.
He could feel the strong beat of your heart to know you were not lying, not hiding anything from him.
“And what does ___ offer?”
Now it was his turn to feel your fingers lace within his.
“My love”.
For the first time, you stood as equals, both relishing the new emotions and path you managed to create. It was well past sunrise when you finally parted, and when the hour of the ceremony arrived, there was new depth to the spoken words that formally bound the two of you together. With the last ritual pending, Rafayel began to anticipate his new life with you. He would take you to the surface. You would bask under the sun and share new experiences. For the first time, Rafayel would have a partner to share life with. Excited for the future, Rafayel turned to Elder Amund, only to freeze. Elder Amund had placed a dagger in the sea god’s hands.
“The rite will be complete when it has the sea’s blessings. You must obtain their heart”.
Rafayel’s eyes widened at the realization of what he had to do. Then he snapped his head towards you. You were stock still, staring at his hands, at the dagger. He could see your jaw and hands were clenched.
“Is this a joke, Elder Amund?”
“I’m afraid not, young one. It must be done, and it can only be done by your hands”.
“No! I refuse!”
“You do not have a say in this rite”.
“It’s my rite!” Rafayel shouted, hands tightly gripping the dagger. He glanced once at you and his voice wavered. “I can’t kill them. They are half my heart”.
Amund’s eyes were downcast as he spoke quietly but firmly. “I did ask you if you were sure this was to be your selection for the rite, and I put my faith in you as our god that you knew what you were doing. That you had our, Lemuria’s, best interests at heart”.
Now Elder Amund rose to observe Rafayel, and the sea god realized that his devotee was watching at him, awaiting providence. Rafayel dejectedly turned towards you, but you had not changed your pose during the argument. When the reality of what was about to happen hit you, you vanished within yourself as your mind screamed at you. All you could hear was Rafayel’s mocking tone to your challenge, Easy. Easy. EasyEasyEasyEasy. EASY! What a fool you were. An utter fool of fools. You wanted to lash out at him! Stab him before he could hurt you! But when you finally registered his face, love and anger both surged forward for Rafayel was in complete anguish.
He was cowering. The sea god was cowering in front of you, unsure of himself for the first time. His eyes begged a word from you. An order to take away the responsibility. Your eyes turned cold as the malice slipped in and a smirk appeared on your lips. You could wait. Stand there forever, refusing to ease the burden off the deity’s shoulders as he sank closer and closer to the floor. Then you could reach for the dagger and end him. But as Rafayel sank, you saw that he still held the dagger firmly in his hands and the smirk slowly slipped off your face as your eyes observed Rafayel steeling himself for the task.
Oh cruel deity. My heartless one. What a mess we’ve made.
Hands gently pressed under Rafayel’s arms, urging him back up to your face.
“You are a god. You cannot hide in the face of adversity,” you bitterly admonished.
“I can’t!” he protested.
You bit down your anger as you brought the dagger up to your heart, holding Rafayel’s wrist firmly.
“You are a god. You were never provided with a choice”.
“How can you be so calm? Aren’t you upset? Don’t you value your life? What’s wrong with you??”
A shudder ran down you at the last accusation. Indeed, what was wrong with you?
“Doesn’t matter which world, I was made a sacrifice,” you bitterly spat, “But what’s pathetic is that I am still willing to give you my heart because I am your follower”.
At this the tears finally began to flow down your cheeks and you allowed Rafayel to wipe them with his thumbs.
“Don’t you hate me?” he whispered hoarsely.
“Oh yes. I hate you. I hate you so much,” you spoke with a shine in your eyes and the sea god knew it was the truth.
“Then why?” he began, but your interrupted him. “Because I love you”.
Rafayel leaned into your shoulder and cried, but you knew now that his heart could bear the pain.
You leaned into his ear to whisper.
“I still hate you. You will regret breaking my trust. But I love you more, so my heart was always yours to take”.
With those final words you gently kissed Rafayel’s cheek and guided his hand to your heart for the last time.
Amund watched as the sea god held the pure flame in his hand. There was nothing he could say, and given the situation, he knew it would be best to stay silent under the deity sought him out again. Rafayel heard the elder leave the temple, but he kept staring at the flame in his hand. Fish are emissaries of the sea. If your wish is blessed by the ocean, a fish will appear. He remembered telling you that one night. There was no fish now. Perhaps because the sea god lost the right to give blessings after destroying his own.
#writing#love and deep space#loveanddeepspace#love and deepspace#love and deepspace x reader#lads#LaDS#love and deep space rafayel#lads rafayel#love and deepspace rafayel#rafayel love and deepspace#rafayel x reader#lads rafayel x reader#lads x reader
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A lost Tau leads to Romance
Description: Tau runs away from Hassian to visit you!
Warnings: None! This is a sfw fanfic!!
Pairing: Hassian x Gender Neutral reader!
Author's note: I love Hassian so much dude, only reason I play Palia for real <3 /hj. I've only been playing it for awhile so I'm using Palia wiki for info and what I've come across in game! I also see no fanfiction for this game and I'm gonna change that 1 fanfic at a time!!
The night was still, the only sound the gentle rustle of leaves in the wind. You had just settled in for the evening when you heard it—a soft scratching at the front door. At first, you dismissed it as the branches of the nearby tree brushing against the wood. But then, it came again, more insistent this time. Curiosity got the better of you, you hesitated, hand hovering over the handle. With a deep breath, you flung the door open, expecting to see something horrific. But it was just
"Tau? what are you doing here boy?" You ask. He turns his head to you, tongue hanging out. "where's Hassian?" You look around the dark abyss that was the woods around your house, the only light being your garden lantern you set out when you first moved in and a few stray lightning bugs. No hassian in sight.
"Come on in" You open the door for Tau, he trots on in; tail wagging behind him. "He's probably worried about you Tau" Said plumehound raises an ear up at his name, turning around and barking at you.
"You're no help" You deadpan. "Guess you're staying the night, you're lucky you're cute" You joke. Tau jumps on your bed, yawning and walking around in a circle till he lays down. "Glad you're comfortable Tau" You walk over to the bed, turning your ceiling light off as you walk past. You plop down on the mattress, jostling Tau as you move under the covers. You close your eyes and drift off, your thoughts filled with that pretty hunter named Hassian. (Completely cause you're worried about Tau and not at all cause of other things).
You wake up to hot air being blown on your face, really stinky hot air if you were to be honest. You peek your eyes open to see Tau's snout in your face, his tongue hanging out as he breathes on you. You push his face away gently. "I'm up! I'm up!" He makes a noise as if he's laughing at you. You glare at him. "I got some left over sernuk meat, if you want breakfast" You tell him, he yips in excitement; jumping off of you and sitting patiently near your kitchen counter. "I'll take that as a 'yes please (name)'" You get up, shivering at the cold of your floors; you dig around under your bed for your house slippers. You silently cheer as you find them, dragging them out and slipping your feet into them. Tau huffs at you in impatience as he watches you "slowly" move around your kitchen, he clearly wants the sernuk meat he was promised.
Hassian trudged up the pathway that leads to the gate of your mountain home, following plumehound prints (ones that clearly belong to Tau, cause who else has a plumehound besides him). He slowly closes the gate as he walks up to your front door, listening around for Tau's barks as he knocks. You look up from your stove as hard knocks sound through your house, you walk over to the door; Tau padding behind you as his hair raises up in warning. You open the door to see Hassian!
"Oh Hassian! Perfect timing, I think this is yours" You joke as you move out the way of Tau. He barks at Hassian as he runs up to him. Hassian sighs out in relief.
"Thank you for taking care of him (name)" He says, scratching Tau's ears.
"It's really no problem. I'll take of him anyday. Speaking of taking care of him, I was just about to give him some sernuk meat. Wanna come in and eat with us?" You ask him, hoping he'll say yes. He looks you over as he thinks, his eyes going from you to the happy plumehound next to you.
"Sure, why not" He says, walking into your house as you move aside to let him in. He sets his quiver on the floor near your coat rack, walking over to your kitchen table. You close the door and walk over to the stove, grabbing the packaged sernuk meat and taking one of the raw steaks; holding it out for Tau. He walks over and snatches it from your hand, scarfing it down. Hassian holds in an amused chuckle. You look over at him as you put the other steaks away, grabbing ingredients to make a nice Veggie fried rice.
"He scared the crap out of me last night, I was reading letters that i got from everyone and he was scratching at my door like some crazed chapaa" You tell him, getting a bowl to wash your rice in. He looks down at Tau and then back at you, a small smile on his face at the look on Tau's face at being called a crazed chapaa. You turn the faucet off and put the bowl of fresh washed rice up, grabbing your cutting board and some veggies.
"So how much do I owe you?" Hassian asks, reaching into his pockets to grab out a small pouch of gold coins.
"You don't owe me anything, You company is payment enough Hassian." You tell him, putting the vegetables in a pot of broth. He looks at you questionably, putting the pouch away slowly. Your face warms the longer he stares at you, you cough awkwardly as you pour the rice into the broth/veggie mixture. He looks away from you, his face a dark purple. Tau looks at the both of you with his head tilted to the side, questioning you two.
"well then!" You clap your hands, putting 2 bowls on the table and sitting down. "Here you go Hassian!"
"thank you" He mutters, grabbing a spoon and dipping it into the fried rice. Tau whines at him and headbutts his leg. Hassian looks at him and then back at you. "Hey uh (name) would you like to go with me on my next hunt?" He asks, not making eye contact. You look at him, your face flushing.
"I'd love to Hassian" You whisper to him. He looks up at you wide eyes for a second before he "fixes" his face and stature.
"Cool. Cool Cool Cool" He says, face palming in his head. You smile.
"Cool. Cool Cool Cool" You repeat, giggling.
HOPE YOU LIKE IT CAUSE IT TOOK ME A FEW HOURS <3
My creative juices did not flow for this one
LOVE YA
#x male reader#male reader#x reader#palia game#palia hassian#x gender neutral reader#gender neutral insert#gender neutral y/n#gender neutral reader#male insert#x female reader#female insert#palia fanfic#Spotify
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