#sorry this got long but i have So Many Words about this little bastard | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thatdeadaquarius · 5 months

Note

About your language brainrot. I see your "Reader's writing can't match tyvat's long and flowery writing" and bring you "Tyvat isn't used to books over 50 pages long so a short story to the Reader is a whole dictionary to tyvat readers".

Seriously, have you seen how thin the books are? They don't wrote novels, they write short chapters formatted in the way really old stories are. As in, summarizing all the events down into one smooth story then adding a few quotes. Fanfiction writers are insane. They will willingly sit down and write hundreds of words at a time. To them, a proper modern day story of maybe, oh 10k words or so, would probably be like the Oddessy itself.

If we were to combine the two headcanons. It would end up as many historians being intimidated by this insanely long written scripture in the language of the forgotten.

I'm going to take this a step further and say that if the creator asked some people to proofread their things, it would establish a hiarchy of who is able to actually finish the book the creator read and who isn't.

NOW THIS, THIS IS MY FUCKING JAMMMM

I'm so sorry this is so old!! u probably all know this by this point that I've really slowed down as the year has gone on, but I graduated university and then got my first job so its been pretty crazy!

Sun: Reader (you/they/them)

Orbit: Headcanons-ish

Stars: dash of all the book/nerds of Genshin, heavy on Sumeru?

Comets & Meteors: Content Warnings: Cussing, 16+ Mature Audiences, Spoliers for Sumeru Archon Quests/Scaramouche, & Trigger Warnings: mention of shipping/characters shipping themselves with you.

Comment if any missed, please.

☆

FULL STOP.

THE AKADEMIYA, FONTAINE RESEARCH INSTITUTE, HAVE BEEN WAITTTINNGGGG ON YOUR ASS LMAO

You fall from the fucking sky like a 5 star, or pop out of the Irminsul or whatever

and immediately are mobbed by scholars. LMAO jkjk (not really, bc that's what it’d feel like)

can you even imagine the dread older stories(”the classics” to them), that was instilled in the poor students around Teyvat??

id like to think ur works are the most preserved over the thousands of years of Teyvat archeologists excavating them, in comparison to other authors (teyvat just likes you more, suck it William Shakespeare)

also, bc I cant resist language differences/world building I'm sorryyyy 😭 😭

the vocab of Genshin lang vs. ours, has significantly less vocabulary like their actual dictionary is 1/3 the size of ours type of energy

(Omfg all ur fanfics being considered like insanely long realistic romantic classics or tragedies like Jane Austen-level, and only the richest and biggest play companies put on plays about ur stories bc the script goes on for hours)

(ur plays only get put on for rlly big events bc of this, like Lantern Rite or like a Summer/Winter festival/your birthday, which is, yes, an international holiday)

dude the sheer power move of anything you’ve written being essentially “Journey of the West” to them, like Damnnn.

endless like adaptations, plays, Teyvat-short stories condensing it, (THEIR OWN FANFICTION ABOUT UR STORIES)

the power is, in fact, going to your head every time another scholar both deflates at how long ur stuff is, but also lights up bc they get to read it

speaking of scholars… you know who snatched you up first. you know. you don’t even need to read the next line.

Alhaitham.

sneaky bastard he is, absolutely manipulated, mansplained (and manwhored bc he knows he’s handsome, cheeky little shit) his way into getting you to sit down with him and interview you about both translating other classics, your own, giving your own analysis of others works and ur own, and picking ur brain apart of how/why you wrote urs, etc. its fucking endless,

Kaveh had to come rescue you bc u were starving to death after getting stuck with the Haravatat scholar in his office for nearly 7 hours of interrogation discussion about literature

and Alhaitham wasn't even nearly done, he’d informed you as you left that he already had another appointment for later conversation scheduled (how?? you don't even know ur own schedule??? you have a schedule???) and was looking forward to more of your “creative and enlightening input” :)))

(you’re never going to escape him, not even Nahida herself can save you from his stubborn ass)

On another note, Xingqiu is quaking when you agree to autograph his copy of your stories (of which he has all hard covers of the first edition translations)

Zhongli/Rex Lapis is known for having a near-lifelong passion for searching for your works specifically, and learning how to translate them better into Teyvatian vernacular

like the same way he can absolutely speak on Rex Lapis facts/rocks/adepti info, is the same confidence he speaks about knowing ur work lol

(yes he did also ask for several autographs and another sit-down talk about the works, tho a lot more sneaky then Alhaitham bc he just casually gets u guys into it during dinner)

Barbatos/Venti has written some of the most famous songs based on your stuff, he has his favorites too,

but he always claims the best songs are any that have been written in the story, like either when a character sings something, or there are like quotes from songs ur fanfics are based on lol

(he also demanded to hear what they actually sound like from you, yes, you have to sing them for him lol)

Venti also can surprisingly drunkenly ramble the entirety of at least one of ur stories, like, word for word lmao

(Diluc gave in and did give him a drink on the house for that one, just once, Venti doesn’t remember it lol)

(I forgot to mention, u guys still speak the same language, just like, different versions of it)

ur works being one of the few things all the Archons can freely talk about with each other, like it’s neutral ground bc they’re all fangirling about it lmao

Furina and Neuvillette have had like,, fierce debates over the decades about character dynamics and the general drama of ur stories, they’ve gotten into it enough they’ve stopped talking to each other for a couple days a few times lol

Albedo, Sucrose, Kokomi, Yae Miko, Ei, Raiden, have read every single work they’re gotten their hands on in Teyvat (it took them like a literal year or longer)

Albedo drew you fanart for every single story, bc he’s hyperfixated on everything related to you ngl,

Kokomi had commissioned smaller pocket versions of ur works (which later got popular thanks to Yae Miko) both the OG and the Teyvat shortened versions

THE HARBINGERS ARE THE MOST DOWN BAD LMAO

Childe has literally tried to recreate battle scenes from ur works lmao

and gets especially riled up about fighting someone who resembles any characters from them (esp villains, what a cutie)

You cannot fathom the amount of research throughout Teyvat that has been secretly or indirectly funded by Pantalone/Tsaritsa

from the experts to analyze them, to funding play companies to act them out, to actually excavating places to get more of ur stuff unearthed

(the Harbingers absolutely are the first group of people that got to read several of ur stories first bc of this, like the world’s most exclusive secret book club lol)

Scaramouche used to clown on Childe all the time about how he was too impatient to even “sit down and read the King’s classics”, and he was downright insufferable when he found out about Tartaglia’s habit of recreating battle scenes/that being what motivated him to fight sometimes lol

that being said, Wanderer surprisingly never forgot ur stories.

Even when his memories were wiped for a bit, he found comfort in these fantastical epics still sticking around, even when his old names did not

(he mayyyy or mayyy nottt have secretly namedhimselfafteroneofthetragicprotagonistsherelatesto- )

oh btw, Nahida also found joy and comfort in ur stories when she was trapped, they also helped her literally grow as a person bc she had ur stories to help her sort of process the world/what life was like outside of her dreaming prison 🥺💔❤️‍🩹

◇

OMFG

ANYWAY FULL TONE SHIFT LMFAO-

the ABSOLUTE SPIRAL-RED-STRING-CONSPIRACY-THEORY-BOARD ENERGY IF THIS WAS A BLUNT LANGUAGE AU LMAOOOO

like specifically how Teyvatians like to give all the context ever thru their words, but older deities/beings like you just do simple phrases that can have deeper meanings (whereas teyvat just explains all the meanings behind their words)

STOP there’s like an official display at the Akademiya and Fontaine Institute of red string theory boards 😭😭 (look what you’ve done to themmm LMAO)

for like every story of urs, INCLUDING THE FANFICS STOP

IMAGINE THE SHIPPING WARS IF U EVER WROTE ONE THAT WASNT EXPLICIT OR LIKE ONE OF THE MAIN ROMANTIC INTERESTS HAD CHEMISTRY WITH OTHER CHARACTERS HAHAHAHAA

that's actually what Akademiya scholars argue about the most viciously, it’s like politics you can’t just bring up ships from ur stories casually in regular convos 💀

(poor Cyno has to deal with a shipping war once a year bc someone always makes the mistake of reading ur work for the first time (without being told to not talk to others abt ships lol) and it starts an all out brawl in the cafeteria every time LMAO)

Also yes.

Cyno is a fanboy.

(he has read Creator x Reader-insert fanfiction.)

(As have most of the characters mentioned, and those not lol)

…

(I'm gonna make a whole Creator x reader fanfic post one day i stg lmao)

☆

an iced coffee? for me?? :0

ok but real talk…

wtf do you guys wanna see for new years!!

i didn't do a inktober/october days thingy bc i felt too unprepared (and bc id wanted to post that 1000+ followers eldritch au for Halloween)

but now i kinda wanna, at least for a few days :o

ill post a poll in a minute, so check it out!! but still, please feel free to comment some ideas here! :)

Safe Travels Deafening Dreamer,

💀♒

If you wanna join a taglist, DM me what for! "Pspspsss, please tag me for [All SAGAU posts, Only SAGAU Language AUs, diff fandom, etc.]!"

(If you ever wanna drop, just DM me! "No more taglists/[specifically this AU/fandom] please!")

♡the beloveds♡

@karmawonders / @0rah-s / @randomnatics / @glxssynarvi / @nexylaza / @genshin-impacts-me / @wholesomey-artist / @thedevioussmirk / @the-dumber-scaramouche / @chocogi / @fallen-starr / @areaderofbooks / @devilangel657 / @esthelily

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alotofpockets · 29 days

Text

Meeting again | Part 1 - Part 2 | Leah Williamson x Reader

Where you take your son to Leah's book signing and you reconnect with your high school friend/crush.

Happy birthday to our blonde pookie!

Woso masterlist | Words: 2.7k

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You were doing some work around the house when your ex called. “Hey Ryan, what’s up?” You say as you turn off the vacuum. “Hi y/n, I’m so sorry. I know that it’s my day, but I’m going to be stuck at work until late. Is there any way you can pick up Liam from school and take him to that book signing from Leah?” The two of you had gotten a divorce many years ago, when you had finally come to terms with your sexuality. Ryan had always been understanding, and now you were still friends, and co-parented your son Liam together. “Oh yeah, don’t worry, I can do that.” You could hear the relief in his voice. “Thank you so much, I owe you one. He has a half day, so he should be done at school in about an hour. I packed his Arsenal jersey and scarf, he wanted to wear them to the signing. Thank you again, I have to go. Send me pictures of the signing?” Your kid would always be your number one priority, so you hung up the phone and got ready.

“Hey bud, your dad is stuck at work, so I’m going to take you to Waterstones later, is that okay?” The boy greeted you with a hug. “Yes, of course, you’ll get to see Leah again!” Back in high school you and Leah were very close, there was even some gossip about the two of you dating, but when you got wind of that you shut those rumours down quickly by starting a relationship with Ryan, a relationship that drove a wedge between your friendship with Leah. Your love for the women’s game continued to grow though, and you have supported Arsenal all your life, just like Leah. Liam fell in love with it too, and you often found yourself amongst the crowd of Arsenal WFC and Lionesses matches together. Liam was a smart kid, and after finding you looking at TikTok videos of Leah, he started asking questions. “Watch it, or we’re not going.” You said with a fake seriousness. Liam knew full well that it was an empty threat as you loved messing with him.

You decided to make it a special day for your son, by taking him out for lunch before heading over to Waterstones. It was to no surprise to you that he wanted to go to his favourite restaurant. “Smile for your dad.” The boy looked up from his plate with a big grin on his face. Proudly wearing his Williamson jersey and his Arsenal scarf.

The line at Waterstones was long, but you bought the book and joined the line together. You could tell he was excited just by the way his eyes lit up, and his smile was constantly present on his face. His excitement made you glad that you were able to join him on this occasion, but it didn’t trump your nerves of seeing Leah again. Of course, you had seen her play, but you were always just a person in the crowd, and now you were going to be face to face with the girl you’ve had a crush on since you were fifteen.

Never in your life had you been so nervous to see someone from your past, but you set it aside for your son, this was his moment. Plus Leah would probably not even remember you, right? You were a nobody, and she was the England captain and the Arsenal co-captain.

When it was your turn, Liam walked up to the signing table, while you stood back to take pictures. “Hi, what’s your name?” You heard the blonde ask your son. “I’m Liam, it’s very nice to meet you. My mom is a big fan of yours as well.” The sneaky little bastard, you thought as your eyes met Leah’s. Her eyes showed instant recognition. ‘Yours?’ she mouthed your way, and you answered with a nod. “It’s very nice to meet you too Liam, want to come over to this side for a picture?” Leah signed the book, and wrote something on one of the cards laying to the side as Liam made his way around the table. “I see you’re repping my jersey! You know what would go great with that?” He shook his head. “This new cap, would you like one?” Liam looked over to you with hopeful eyes, “Can I mom?” You smiled at the interaction between Leah and your son, “Yeah, of course.” He turned back to Leah, “Thank you so much!” The two posed for a picture. “Any time Liam. Here is your signed book, and could you please give this card to your mom?” He grinned big when he saw a written phone number on the back of the card. “Thank you Leah!”

“Mom! I got you her number, you have to call her!” You look at the card that Liam handed you ‘Would love to catch up, send me a text if you’re up for it :)’ along with her cell. You looked between the card and Leah, who shot you a smile before returning to the next person in line. “Please tell me you’re going to send her a text, please!” Liam was tired of always seeing you admire Leah from afar, and now that you had a real shot to reconnect with her, he wanted you to take it. Plus how cool would it be if his mom would go out with the Leah Williamson? You pocket the card, “Maybe later, you little snitch. I thought we had a deal.” You say playfully as you put your arm around his shoulder. Quite frankly it scared you a little to send her a text. “Let’s head home.”

When you got home you put Leah’s number in your phone and stared at the message screen forever, trying to decide what to text her. You really wanted to reconnect with her, but you also didn’t want to overcompensate, and ruin any chance you had. You settled on something simple, letting her make the next move.

You: Hi Leah, it’s y/n. It was good seeing you today, catching up sounds nice.

You hadn’t expected to get a message back from her so soon.

Leah: So glad we ran into each other. Talk about the details later?

The message notification was staring back at you, your heart was beating out of your chest simply from her message. You quickly put your phone away, without opening her message when Liam walks in. “Mom, you know that I want you to be happy right?” You nod, “Of course, I know that kiddo. What makes you say that?” He shrugs, “I just don’t want you to hold back because of me.” You shake your head, “You’re too smart. I love you, kiddo.” He hugs your side, “I love you too, mom.”

The two of you were hanging out at home, when Ryan called again. “Hey, thank you for sending me those pictures. They really made my day, glad to see him so happy.” You notice the exhaustion behind his words, “Yeah of course, I don’t want you to miss out on stuff because of your job.” Liam was so important to the both of you, but your divorce had led to missing some things here and there, that you always tried to minimise together. “Speaking of work, I should be done around eight. You know I hate to ask, but-” You interrupted him, “You don’t have to ask, of course. Pick him up whenever you are done, okay?” You heard the relief in his voice, “Thank you. Can I talk to him for a moment?” You walk over to Liam and hand him the phone, “It’s your dad.” After handing him your phone, you give him some space to talk to his dad.

You continued vacuuming since you weren’t done when you had to pick up Liam from school. So, you didn’t hear the interaction with Ryan, or when the call was over, and definitely not when you got another phone call. Liam looked at the contact and smirked to himself. When he realised you didn’t hear the phone call, he picked up himself. “Hi Leah, it’s Liam.” The girl had not expected your son to pick up, but she went with it anyway. “Hey Liam! How did you like the book signing?” He told her how much he enjoyed it before Leah continued with her questions. “I was looking for your mom, is she around?” If it were a video call, Leah would have seen the mischievous look in Liam’s eyes, but since it was a voice call he could hide behind the screen. “She is a little busy right now, but she said she wanted to invite you over for dinner tonight if you had time.” Leah knew she should’ve questioned it more, but she wanted to see you so badly, that she set up dinner plans with your son.

Just ten minutes before Leah said she would be there Liam came walking up to you. “Hey mom, so I kind of invited Leah over for dinner tonight.” Never in your life had you turned around so quickly, “You did what?” You could not believe what your son had just told you. “She will be here in-” His sentence was interrupted by the doorbell. “Now.” He said with a big smile. You were frozen in place, Leah Williamson was at your door, and you were in sweats and a tank top, your hair a mess from the house work you had been doing for the past hour. “Are you going to let her in?” You turned to Liam, “You are going to be in so much trouble later.” Again, Liam knew there was no actual threat behind your words, because that’s not how you parented.

On your way to the door, you tried to quickly fix your hair. You open the door, “Oh hi Ryan, you’re here early.” He smiles back at you, “Yeah our last meeting got cancelled, sorry I didn’t let you know.” You shake your head, “No, no it’s okay. Liam, your dad is here!” The boy came running into his dad’s arms. “You’re here!” The bond between them was amazing, he truthly loved the both of you equally. “Have you had something to eat yet?” Liam shakes his head, “How does McDonald’s sound?” You grab Liam’s bag, and give him a quick kiss on his cheek, before waving the both of them off.

As soon as you closed the door, you ran up the stairs to quickly get changed, and look more presentable. You had just finished doing your hair when your doorbell rang again. This time it was Leah standing on the other side of the door. “Hi Leah, come in.” She looked so beautiful in her simple white t-shirt and a pair of green cargo pants. “Hey y/n, thank you. No Liam?” She questioned when you walked her further into the house. “He wanted to be here but his dad came to pick him up a little bit ago. I’m sorry to say that McDonald’s has been picked over dinner with you.” You joke, hoping to make the moment a bit lighter. Hearing Leah’s laugh brought you back to those days where you would sit on the grass, and make fun of the boys on the football team.

“So, Liam is a big fan of football then?” Leah started awkwardly. You loved talking about him, so you just started talking. “Yeah, I started taking him to matches when he was still a little baby. He loved it ever since, I can’t go to an Arsenal match without him nowadays. A gooner from the start, just like you.” Leah blushed slightly. “So, you’ve been coming to our matches all this time?” Now it was your turn to blush. “Maybe.” The both of you laugh. “Ryan surprisingly never got into football, so it’s been something I get to share with Liam.” The name you mentioned caught Leah’s attention. “Wait Ryan is Liam’s dad? You actually married high school Ryan?” You realised that bringing his name up was probably a mistake since he is what drove the two of you apart. “Oh yeah, high school Ryan indeed. Liam’s dad indeed, and I did marry him. We haven’t been married for like five years though.”

Leah’s ears perk up at that. “Oh, I’m sorry to hear that.” You shrug your shoulders, “It’s all good, it was time I finally figured out my sexuality. We’re still friends, and he's great with Liam. Anyways, how have you been?” The two of you start talking and catching up, and somehow even though more than a decade had passed and you had lived such different lives, it felt like you had never not known each other.

You walk into the kitchen together, still talking, when the both of you start getting hungry. That is when you realise that you had to go to the grocery store today, and didn’t have much in the house. “So, confession time. I didn’t actually know you were coming over until Liam told me about ten minutes before you arrived.” Leah laughed, “I had a feeling the invite wasn’t extended by you, but I didn’t want the opportunity to go to waste.” You blush at her words. “I am very happy that you are here, don’t get me wrong. I was just not prepared. It was Ryan’s day with the kid, but he got stuck at work so I didn’t have a chance to go to the grocery store like I had originally planned. Let’s see, I have Potato Smileys, and literally nothing else. I am so sorry.” Leah did not care what you would eat one bit, she was just happy to be there with you. “Good thing I love Potato Smileys then!”

You shared a laugh at the situation and decided to make the best of it. While the Potato smileys were in the oven, you set the table with some condiments to go along with them. As you were waiting for the Smileys to cook, you and Leah fell back into conversation. You were reminiscing over old times, and shared stories from the past years since. It was easy talking to her, it really felt like no time had passed.

Once you were done with dinner, you moved to the living room where you each found a comfortable place on the couch to continue catching. Before you realised it, hours had passed by. Leah looked at her watch, and noticed the time first. “Oh it’s late, I hadn’t realised so much time had passed.” You glance at the clock yourself, “Wow, yeah it is. I’m really glad you came over tonight, catching up with you has been great.” Leah smiled in return, “Yes it was, I’ve missed this. I hope we can hang out again soon!” You walk her to the door, “For sure! Liam and I will be at the match Sunday, maybe we can do something after? If you don’t mind him tagging along of course.” Her smile grew big, “I would love that, and for Liam to tag along always!”

As you said goodbye, and Leah got into her car you couldn’t help but feel hopeful for what the future might hold. Just having Leah back into your life in whatever way possible made you extremely happy. Tonight had been so nice, and you really wanted to see Leah again soon, Sunday didn’t feel soon enough. So, you decided to send her a message. You felt less nervous sending this message than the one this afternoon, but still there were some nerves.

You: Would you maybe want to grab a coffee sometime this week? I’d love to meet up sooner than Sunday.

As you were getting ready to go to bed, your phone dinged with a new message.

Leah: I know a great spot! Are you free tomorrow?

You smiled at the text, Leah proposing tomorrow had to mean she wanted to see you again soon too, right? You quickly let her know you’re free, before sending her a goodnight message and calling it a night. Though, your mind kept you up for a while longer, not wanting to let go of today just yet.

Continue reading part 2!

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#leah williamson #leah williamson imagine #leah williamson x reader #arsenal wfc imagine #arsenal wfc #arsenal women #awfc imagine #awfc x reader #awfc #woso #woso imagine #woso imagines #woso x reader #engwnt x reader #england lionesses #engwnt #engwnt imagine

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venus-haze · 8 months

Text

You're My Best Friend (Homelander x Reader)

Summary: Homelander was a test tube baby, raised in isolation in a cold, clinical lab. But that doesn’t inspire America, does it? Vought tasks you with creating the idyllic backstory for its hero, and what starts as a limited comic run spirals out of control when Homelander himself demands your help in making the story a reality.

Note: Gender neutral reader, but no other descriptors are used. Based on a request by @crash-and-cure as well as a bastardization of one of the sweetest love songs ever written (sorry, John Deacon!) This got kinda meta? Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Emotional manipulation, I guess some gaslighting on Homelander’s part? Do not interact if you’re under 18.

When Vought hired you to create their long-awaited Homelander origin comic series, you were thrilled—until they gave you so little information about his childhood to work with, you weren’t even sure you could come up with one comic, let alone the ten they requested. The details about his childhood were minimal, not even a full printed page—a loving mom and dad, played baseball, did well in school, strong sense of justice from a young age, his friends called him “Johnny.” Your requests to meet with Homelander so you could get some stories from the man himself were constantly denied.

You almost considered dropping the project, until you decided to throw caution to the wind and pull from your own childhood and set it in good ol’ generic suburbia. Some of the storylines were based on your own experiences or things that had happened to people you’d grown up with, though you changed enough names and details to not link it to anyone in particular. Except yourself, of course. Using a pseudonym professionally meant you felt no need to change your own name in the comics. Sure, making your cooler fictionalized self Homelander’s childhood best friend was a bit self-indulgent, but no one would know, really.

To your relief, the editors at Vought loved your ideas, making minor changes before bringing the storylines to their comic artists to bring it to life. The result was Finding Homelander: A Boy’s Journey To Be a Hero. The issues flew off shelves when they were first released, ironically praised for their relatability and authenticity. Vought extended your contract, asking you to produce the cartoon adaptation and another ten issues.

Still, in all of that, you’d never met Homelander. A representative from Vought emailed you to let you know to tune in to his interview on a talk show one day, saying that he’d be talking more about the cartoon project on it. You recognized the host, Tracey, always chipper and having some extravagant giveaway for her audience members. Daytime TV was never your thing, though.

“I think what resonates with so many people is how relatable your childhood is,” Tracey said, holding up a copy of Finding Homelander issue #3, where he saved ‘you’ from getting hit in the face with a baseball at one of his games, catching it with ease. It’d been the happy ending to a short storyline of him struggling to find his place on the team and you encouraging him to not give up. “You and Y/N were pretty close, do you still keep in touch?”

“You know, Tracey, not as much as I’d like, unfortunately. Adulthood can be so busy, you need to cherish those childhood memories,” Homelander said. “I did give them a call when the comics first came out, and wow, the laughs we had over those old antics of ours. Talk about a walk down memory lane!”

You guessed the bullshitting was all part of the promotional circuit for Homelander. Knowing this childhood of his was your own fabrication, you couldn’t help but wonder what else about him was fake. Maybe he wanted to maintain his privacy, you could certainly understand that. You couldn’t shake the voice in the back of your mind that said it wasn’t so simple, that the narrative Vought pushed was a cover to hide something in Homelander’s past.

“Now, I’ve heard rumors of a cartoon show based on the comics in the making, is this true?”

“It is! I’m excited for this project, getting back to my ‘roots’ so to speak. I’ll be voicing myself, of course, but it’s funny you’d bring up Y/N, because they’ve agreed to voice themself, too.”

“How fun!” Tracey exclaimed over the roar of the talk show crowd’s applause and cheers. “I guess this is the hopeless romantic in me, but I hope this reconnection leads to something a little more. I’m just a sucker for childhood sweethearts!”

Homelander laughed along with the host’s giggles, “Well, you never know.”

You balked at the television, mouth agape. Surely he couldn’t be talking about you. ‘Y/N’ could be anyone with your same features. Vought had probably hired a professional voice actor for the role and were pushing the authenticity angle. The whole situation felt odd.

When you checked your work email again on your phone, you nearly dropped it on the floor.

SUBJECT: Meeting with Homelander This Week

The email contained a list of days and times throughout the week wherein Homelander would be free, apparently wanting to meet you to thank you for the success of the comic series and discuss upcoming work. Yeah. That last part you sure as hell wanted to discuss too. You responded with the soonest time available, in a meeting room in Vought Tower the following evening. As soon as you hit ‘send’, you wondered what exactly you were getting yourself into.

Anticipation filled your gut as you went about your day leading up to meeting the supe himself. What would he be like, really be like? Was there even a version of Homelander that wasn’t hopelessly manufactured for the masses? You knew then that his upbringing was a lie, and thus stood the probability that so much else was, too.

When you stepped into that meeting room, you hadn’t been expecting his face to light up at the sight of you.

“Homelander, hi, it’s great to—“

“No need to be so formal, Y/N! You can call me Johnny, just like old times,” he said cheerfully, in on a joke you clearly hadn’t been aware of.

“Sorry, Johnny,” you said, playing along. “It’s great to see you again.”

He pulled you in for an unexpected hug that you returned. “Figured we should catch up before things really start getting crazy, don’t you think?”

You nodded, your nose brushing against him as you did so. Just as your lips parted to offer an apology, he smiled, shooing away the assistant who’d accompanied him out of the room.

He sat down, motioning for you to do the same.

“Gotta say, I’m a fan of your work,” he said.

“Thank you,” you said. “I’m not sure I understand exactly what’s going on, though.”

“What’s there to understand? I’m not allowed to know more about my best friend, our lives together growing up?”

“How did you know it was me?”

“Wasn’t hard for me to put two and two together, but considering everyone else around here has their head up their asses, they have no idea,” he said, before lowering his voice conspiratorially and giving you a charming smile. “I haven’t told anyone. What’s a secret between friends?”

You nodded, overwhelmed by the intensity of his attention on you. “What do you want to know?”

He sighed, resting his head on his hand. “Everything.”

So you told him. Not quite everything, of course, but enough to abate his curiosity. At least for the time being. His interviews were sharper, more specific with details rather than rattling off whatever had been in the comics. You watched in shock as convincing photos of his Little League days were posted to his social media accounts, anecdotes provided by his increasingly frequent conversations–or more like interrogation sessions–with you, but in his style, of course. It was almost scary what the graphic design team at Vought could accomplish, not that you’d ever know how, exactly, as they were all under the same strict NDA that you were.

He started spending more time with you, too, and after a while, it did seem like you were old friends. Part of you flinched whenever you called him Johnny, because Johnny wasn’t even real, but with your complacency, this fabrication was slowly morphing into a strikingly tangible memory. With each conversation, he drew you deeper into the world you’d been paid to create for him until you found yourself slipping up.

You’d been showing him a goofy stuffed monkey on your desk, a cute little thing with big sparkling eyes. A prize for getting two out of three at the ring toss. Probably spent more money winning it than it was actually worth, but it was about the effort, the memories made.

“You remember, don’t you? You won it for me at the county fair,” you said without thinking.

He laughed in agreement, as if he actually had. Except he hadn’t. Your high school boyfriend won it for you a week before graduation. Sensing the mood shift, he set down your prize and looked at you with the same intensity he had when you first met.

“It’s been a while since we were there, huh?” he said. “Why don’t we go back?”

You furrowed your eyebrows. “Go where?”

“Home.”

With a strong arm around your waist, he took off for your hometown. You could hardly tell which way was up or down, he was flying so high, but he didn’t seem to mind the way you clung to him at all. When he finally landed, you recognized the community baseball field where all of his fictional games were set.

“Geez, it’s like nothing’s changed,” he said cheerfully.

You looked at him in disbelief. How long was he going to expect you to go along with it? Or maybe the question you should have been asking was, how long were you going to enable him? The end wasn’t anywhere in sight as he took your hand, and you walked him through your childhood, further enmeshing him in it until you arrived at the house you grew up in.

The middle of the day, no one was home, and so you let yourselves in like you owned the place. Suddenly, the house seemed too small for a man like Homelander to occupy, but he was engrossed in the details of it. He scanned the kitchen, no doubt inspecting the contents of the fridge and cabinets with his x-ray vision. Moving onto the living room, he stared at photos on the wall, the magazines and DVDs that were strewn on the coffee table, giving away your parents’ taste in entertainment.

“Which one was your room again?” he asked.

You swore you could feel his breath on the back of your neck as you wordlessly led him to your room. Each step down the hall felt dangerous, as if you were about to walk into a trap. Face-to-face with the closed door, you opened it, standing aside while Homelander looked around, from what you had hanging on the walls to the knick-knacks you’d left behind.

An uncomfortable tension settled over the room when Homelander closed the door of your childhood bedroom. An odd blend of hurt and amusement spread across his face as he observed the way you were eyeing him, body ready to fruitlessly run from him the way a rabbit would a hawk.

“C’mon, after how long we’ve been friends, I would never hurt you,” he said, as if reading your mind. “We’ve been through so much together. I mean, we were each other’s first kiss.”

You froze. Issue #9. That was something Vought’s editors had added, claiming a romance angle would make the series appeal to the younger female demographic. You hadn’t thought much of it at the time.

He slyly backed you into the wall, leaning over you as you slinked down the slightest bit.

“Show me how we did it,” he whispered, his hand caressing your cheek. “So clumsy and nervous, I can even feel you…quivering.”

“Homelander, I don’t know what you’re—“

He tsked. “Y/N.”

You let out a shaky breath, “Johnny—“

He hummed in satisfaction. “It’s alright. I know it’s been a while.”

You let him kiss you, sweetly in a way that put your actual first kiss to shame. His lips were soft against yours, his tender movements intentional as he cradled your face, pulling you the slightest bit closer to him when you kissed him back.

A sense of familiarity settled over you, warm and comforting like pulling a blanket out of the dryer on a chilly evening. Every time it seemed like you were beginning to overthink the situation with Homelander, he drew you back in with the kiss, a more than effective distraction until you pulled away with a dazed smile on your face.

#homelander x reader #homelander x you #the boys x reader #the boys x you #the boys tv #the boys amazon #homelander #homelander the boys #the boys

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doberbutts · 3 months

Note

Thank you for making the schindler post, it perfectly illustrates why I hate the way people will act like people who hurt others (like active nazis and racists) aren't capable of regular emotion and thought. Second chances are often seen as bad when it comes to violence and crime, but if you never give someone the chance to change, form different opinions, or see the damage they or their associates have caused, they'll just keep taking the path of least resistance, keep following orders. I just want people to take a serious look at a nazi who changed his mind. There is nothing inherently evil about anyone, there are only moral and immoral choices.

It helps, I think, to understand that he did not join the nazi party because he hated Jews. Even what research I did on the real man said that for the most part his reasons for siding with Hitler were purely economical. And, as I've said before, Hitler did not start with "I hate Jews let's kill them all" but with "look how bad the economy sucks! And who is doing well while the economy sucks? The Jews. That means they're the ones behind making the economy suck!" to get people on his side.

I think Schindler did have some internalized antisemitism. How could he not? He thought of the plan to use almost exclusively Jewish slave labor as good business sense. Cheaper than Poles, more desperate for the work and thus less likely to complain about conditions or quit, can't fuss about wanting wages or better hours, what's not to like? Supposedly his workers were treated well. I don't know if that makes it particularly better. I wonder how his workers felt, staring at the emblem proudly pinned to his jacket, knowing it stood for the extermination of their entire people.

I wonder if any of them ever considered it might be a trick. An elaborate long game to get them to trust and slip up. To get them to reveal the hiding places and secret messages and the others striving to find or make a way out.

I think the movie played with that concept a little bit, when the character of Stern (who apparently was 3 different real guys rolled into 1) is portrayed as always being a little standoffish and cold to Schindler until close to the very end. He was afraid of him. Schindler held not only his life but the lives of all of the people working there (plus more, irl) in his hands. He rubbed shoulders with high ranked officials and knew personally more than one known sadistic bastard that actively got off on murdering Jews. All it would take is a single word and it would be more than just those in the factory who died.

But then the ghetto was cleansed. In history, Schindler had advance warning and made his workers lock themselves in the factory overnight to spare them. In the movie, Schindler did not have warning, and saw the chaos from atop a vantage point as he'd meant to pass by.

Either way, both in life and in film, that was the line. He was, at minimum, willfully blind and passive to the evidence of what was happening up to that point. Once he couldn't deny it, he put his foot down and said, no more. I'm not doing this. I can't save everybody but you aren't getting your hands on anyone in my charge. Put me in jail if you have to. This is wrong.

He had everything to gain by continuing to look away. In the movie, Stern says something to the tune of "you'll have to hire Hungarians and Poles. They cost a little more but you'll still be rich" when they're both faced with Hitler's final solution. No more cheap Jewish labor when they're all dead, after all. It is at that point that they come up with the list- to get as many Jews as possible out of Germany before they're all sent to their deaths. He could have just said "yeah, sorry. I tried". Stern even more or less gave him permission to do so, like he was expecting it.

But he didn't. He said no fuck that, it's bullshit. It's not happening. I'm not letting it happen. They can arrest me or kill me if they want but if I'm alive for it I'm not just going to stand back and watch.

But I think it is difficult for people to grapple with that level of complexity. Not everyone he saved thinks he was overall a good person. His motives were not always pure. In fact many times his motives were just about lining his own pockets. But when he saw atrocities happen, he put his foot down and refused to participate. Even at his own cost- he had the equivalent amount of money back then as would be needed to retire early nowadays from his factory labor. He spent it on bribes and rations to keep them safe. He went to jail several times for refusing to back down. He risked his own neck by networking with other factory owners to get them to do the same. He could have been executed for this at any point. Nazis loved public spectacle executions for traitors and for collusion with Jews.

He wasn't a perfect ally. But I think I'd rather an imperfect ally do whatever they can to help, than no allies at all.

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flowersandbigteeth · 1 year

Note

I’m obsessed with Levi, absolutely smitten. Thank you for sharing him with us.

If you feel up to it could we get a snippet of someone maybe a rival vampire trying to plant doubts in Levi about the reader. Maybe accusing them of cheating on him and using him, only for Levi to laugh in their face because he knows how devoted and loyal they are to each other.

Just like the opposite of the miscommunication trope. Please and thank you🥺👉👈

I'm so happy you like Levi ^_^ This is just a little thing, but I thought it turned out cute and it's nice to do something lighter after the last one omg :D

Vampire (Levi) x female mom reader

Word Count: 1k

W: sfw vampire fluff

“Ugh,” Levi’s cousin Ivan and leader of his clan in Russia grimaced looking down at Meryl over his glass of blood, “don’t you have a nanny?”

Levi nudged him away from the baby sleeping peacefully in the crib he’d put in his office so she could be nearby. He’d wanted to give you a spa day and he knew you weren’t yet comfortable with the nanny, so he happily offered to keep his favorite cinnamon roll with him.

He also wanted you out of the house when his cousin arrived. He didn’t like males seeing you and he knew how frivolous vampire’s could be. Their lives were long and got boring, rare jewels intrigued them, if only for a time. He’d sent you surrounded by a handful of Amazonian vampire bodyguards, so he felt confident no one would bother you.

“(Y/N) and I have decided to keep her caretakers to a minimum,” he said, “she’s already been exposed to so many different germs and people, there’s no reason to add anymore.”

Ivan snorted.

“So she’s got you babysitting her brat?! Cousin, are you a fool?”

Of course in his time, the idea of a vampire Clan lord carrying around an infant was preposterous, let alone one that was not his son, specifically. Many vampire mothers immediately gave their children to wet nurses so they wouldn’t look weak carrying a drooling baby around.

Levi growled at his cousin, prompting him to lower his voice so as not to wake the baby.

Ivan hissed lightly back, his eyes flashing. Vampire lords didn’t like being told what to do.

“Who is this trollop anyway?” he snapped, though a bit quieter, “I’ve never seen you so wrapped around anyone’s finger.”

Levi looked a little wistful.

“Just an angel I came across in a fish store,” he murmured, his eyes resting fondly on Meryl.

Ivan raised an eyebrow.

“Fish…store…? And you’ve taken in her bastard? You’re babysitting it? Levi, I know losing Karen must have been hard but-”

Levi’s face hardened and his voice boomed.

“Don’t say her name in my presence!” he snarled.

Meryl cooed that she was waking up and started to whimper realizing she was alone. Levi looked distraught and hurried over to her, picking her up and bouncing her in his arm.

“I’m sorry baby bat, did I wake you?” he cooed, and she gave him a gummy smile, doing her “daddy is picking me up” dance in his hand.

Something about the happiness on Levi’s face when he looked at Meryl and how innocently she completely trusted him incensed Ivan.

“This is absurd Levi. No one can be this happy! How do you know she doesn’t have some lover on the side and she’s just using you? Tugging a vampire lord on a leash?! She’s probably making another one of those things right now! Aren’t you concerned with how this makes the family look?!”

Levi tipped Meryl’s head to his chest so she couldn’t see before he bared his fangs, transforming his face into a more animal version of itself as a warning.

“Now you sound absurd, cousin,” he ground out, more offended that he’d say such a thing in front of his darling baby than taking it seriously, “(Y/N) is a devoted mother and wife. I won't listen to you slandering her in front of our child.”

Ivan snorted and crossed his leg with annoyance, spinning his blood around.

“Goddess, modern romance is so disgusting,” he retorted, turning his face away from the tooth achingly sweet sight of Levi tossing Meryl in the air to make her giggle, “If it were me, I’d never see the thing.”

“That’s why you’re a cold, lonely bastard,” Levi chuckled, “and I have a warm, beautiful family.”

Ivan rolled his eyes.

“Until she backstabs you like your mother,” he snapped.

Levi growled more loudly.

“I told you not to mention her,” he snapped, flipping Meryl over his shoulder by one foot so she wouldn’t see his anger and making her laugh out loud.

“Ugggggh,” Ivan let out the longest groan ever at her pure joy as Levi pulled her back to his chest and found her one of the toys strewn on his desk to play with.

“I’m back my loves!” you sighed as you walked into Levi’s office and breezed past the vampire sitting in one of Levi’s overstuffed chairs. You tossed your purse lazily on his desk, then tipped up on your toes and gave Levi a kiss, then smooched Meryl.

“Feel my face,” you beamed, taking his hand and putting it on your freshly worked over skin, “they did some kind of laser thing to it! It’s super soft!”

He grinned down at you, taking the opportunity to circle your cheek with his fingers. Maybe it was softer than normal, it always felt soft to him, but he was happy you wanted him to touch you. You'd been seeking out his touch more and more, each time delighting him more than the last.

A bit of a tug in the back of your mind reminded you the other vampire was still there and you glanced over your shoulder at him.

“Oh, I’m sorry, did I interrupt something?” you asked, looking him over. He looked a bit like Levi, as well, but with wheat blonde hair cropped short and bright blue eyes.

“Uh…this is my cousin, Ivan,” Levi said with as little enthusiasm as possible, “he’s in town for the wedding.”

He was eager to see you since you’d been gone all morning, but he still didn’t like males looking at you, disappointed your spa treatment ended early. For Ivan’s part his mouth dropped and his eyes grew big. He hopped up from the chair and crossed the room, looming over you.

He took your hand and gave it a kiss, smiling down at you with the eyes of a predator behind baby blue irises almost flashing green with envy.

“Levi told me many things about you and I thought he was exaggerating, but he wasn’t lying when he said you are truly lovely. Now I think I understand his fascination. I look forward to seeing more of you, my dear,” Ivan purred, “Levi loves to throw parties so I’m sure there will be plenty of occasions for us to get more acquainted.”

You blinked up at him and extracted your hand from his.

“Er...good to meet you,” you said, wondering if it was a generational gap thing that made him sound so weird to you. Many of Levi's vampires had odd dialects hinting to their time of origin.

Levi bared his teeth and handed Meryl to you, practically shoving his cousin from the room.

“I’ll see you later, cousin!” he growled, slamming the door behind him.

#monster x girl #monster boyfriend #monster lover #sfw monster fluff #monster oc #vampire x reader #angst #yandere fluff #male yandere #yandere x reader #x reader #vampire boyfriend #vampire #monster x reader

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skyeslittlecorner · 2 months

Note

I feel like we didn't get enough moments with that beautiful king in chapter 5 (why PB >:(((()

Can you pls do a short story about MC who has been kidnapped (again) when they try to find a place to sleep to Leviathan's office where he demands them to sleep *in his coffin* (so he could keep an eye on them).

Okay I can only think that much. Hope you ok with this request 🥹 Luv u and your works 🫶 Have a great day!!!

Thanks for lovely words! AND I AGREE. I know that the plot needs to move forward, but my heart wants to stay longer. We only got to know Levi for a moment and quite superficially because he mostly talked to others. PAY ATTENTION TO US. Just no nooses, please. We'll play with the ropes later, maybe dinner first.

This turned out to be a bit long. Hope you'll like it!

Words: ~900

Kidnapped to sleep | Leviathan

Peace, just a little bit of peace. That's all you asked for. After a long, tiring day, you didn't even have time to sit down properly in your room for a moment. Just when you approached bed, a knocking sound came from inside the room instead of from outside.

“You knock before entering!” You huffed.

Foras appeared at your side without a hush.

"Sorry, but…"

“What’s going on again? And quickly, if you can.” You cut his words in half. Headache and tiredness make you thorny. All you wanted was to collapse like a log and fall asleep. Didn't even care anymore whether he tried to kill you or not, you had survived so many threats and potential murder attempts today that one here or there wouldn't make any difference. You almost softened when you saw the remorse written all over the dreamy devil's face.

“His Majesty wants to see you.”

Yeah, almost.

“Tell him to stick his desires in… ugh.”

There was no point arguing. The quicker you deal with them, the better. You were about to leave when Foras grabbed your waist, and you felt your insides churning again. That bastard… you can walk on your own! No need to teleport!

The palace was even quieter and darker, but when Foras left you in his king's office, you didn't feel as overwhelmed as the first time. It reminded you of Prince Charming's room. Leviathan, as beautiful as he was mysterious, was leaning over the documents. You stood on your tiptoes to look at them.

"What are you doing? It's not your business."

“You called me here yourself.”

You won't let him push you around. Not only was it dangerous, it also hurt your pride. He ignored you and went back to work, so you sat down on the chair across him, not knowing for what he needed you, and started thinking. Just out of boredom. It wasn't the wisest decision you could have made in such a state.

With such a beautiful creature by your side, it was hard to think of anything other than punishing him for the way he treated you. If only he could be beaten with a whip again. Choke. Oppress. Hear the gasps and moans as he runs out of breath. Milk would flow from these beautiful horns, and you would make him drink it himself...

"What are you staring at?"

Not only did he dare to be so beautiful in front of you, but he also disturbed your fantasies. The audacity.

"Beautiful."

A smile appeared on his lips and you clutched your mouth. This shouldn't have been let slip! Apparently, it only made him feel better, because he told you that you’re going to sleep together. Oh yes. It's time to put all these plans into action!

Reality hit you as soon as you sat down on the soft mattress in his coffin. How was it so comfortable here? It reminded you of a water bed with a cover on top like a canopy. Leviathan probably already thought you were a freak, so you had nothing to lose. You could have use him, abused him. But the soft material acted like a magnet. Silk is like flypaper. You were so tired... you closed your eyes just for a second, and suddenly felt the warmth next to you. A hot, masculine fragrance. And a strong arm that hung around your waist.

“I thought you hated me?”

“I do not like you. Just like everyone else.”

It was so comfortable. So… safe? You definitely needed some rest.

“So you also sleep cuddled up to your nobles like stuffed animals? Like now?”

He nuzzled his nose into your hair, not really bothered by your taunts.

“Silence. I have to keep an eye on you all the time. I can't let you endanger anyone.”

It occurred to you that for now you are only a danger to yourself, because you want to abuse the most dangerous king of hell you have ever met.

If only you had a whip at hand... wrapped in the darkness of the coffin and Levi's arm, the tiredness of the day came flooding back to you. You closed your eyes. Just for a second.

Two seconds later you were sound asleep, tucking your knee between the devil's legs. He grabbed the back of your neck and tightened his fingers.

“What are you thinking?”

You didn't think anything at that moment. Just purred in delight. Feeling the warm, broad chest, you clung to it unconsciously. No wonder you sought safety. That coffin almost devour you last time. What was strange was that you were looking for support in the arms of a man who was the reason for your anxiety, but who would care? He also didn't behave like a terrible tyrant, not now.

He ran his fingers through your hair. They were soft and fragrant, flowing between his fingers like a waterfall. You didn't see him, so he could afford it. So defenseless, hugging him, you no longer looked like a threat. If it weren't for his experience, he would almost be fooled by you. He promised himself he wouldn't fall into your trap, and despite his own promises, he wrapped his arms around you. Some devils can lie, and he was just trying to lie to himself.

#whb #what in hell is bad #whb leviathan #skye's little talk

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buwheal · 4 months

Text

[You've Got Mail!]

You can now send your favorite salesman emails!! YAY!!

Here's some rules and information about the askbox.

First and foremost;

I try to answer as many asks as I can, but I will not answer every single one. Sometimes I just cant do anything with it that will work realistically with the perimeters of the world, and I apologize!! Its nothing against you guys!!

(Unless you break the rules ofc.)

So if you dont see yours after a long while, it’s probably something that wont work, sorry! You can always send more than one ask whenever and see if that one works instead!

Besides that, here’s the rest of what you need to know!

[RULES] :

Spamton physically PRINTS OUT each "email", so dont send asks that have a physical interaction. Sorry! Thats just how i decided to set up the world/situation, and is not really anything against you guys :-)

(more of a request than a rule tbh) Preferably try to send real questions or statements. most joke asks are funny, but are surprisingly hard to create an in character response for. You can still send joke asks if you really want to, just dont expect an answer X-P

I know he may be a personification of spam emails... BUT DONT SPAM!!! I mean it! It clogs the askbox and is a real pain. You can send him more than one ask, though, as long as you arent repetitively sending a ton in a short burst!!

Dont be sexual or romantic, please! Even "As a joke". I dont like Spamton like that and it makes me uncomfortable, plus I can't really answer that in character in a way that wouldnt provoke more of that. Thank you!!

Be respectful and patient!! I am just one person doing everything, lol, and this got far more popular than anticipated, so i will take a long time. I try my best to get at least one out every other day but i'll need breaks eventually!!!

I cannot spawn or give/spawn/materialize things for/to Spamton if you ask because of the way it’s set up. You are really just lines of text from a computer to Spamton, BUT... You can still do a lot if you think outside the box. or,, errr,, outside the computer. Kind of. Your words and your actions affect him and his reactions to you, so word it correctly and you can get him to do something or say something. Hes not stupid though, and he CAN usually tell when your intentions are... less.. than good.

[INFORMATION] :

[YGM!] is technically an AU!!! not only do the events of the game not occur, but this is also set before then!

Asks are put out one a day, regardless if i have more than one, UNLESS i need to connect two(or more) to complete one event.

I am one person doing every ask and every unique frame of art, so expect 1 ask (If youre lucky, two) maybe every other day Monday-Friday depending on my workload per day. I have weekends off so more asks, around 2-3, CAN (but usually arent) be done for future use.

This is just for fun!! I am using the askbox to exercise my drawing consistency, Spamton's personality, and the way he speaks and responds to different situations! This is a way I am using to improve my understanding of him as a character, so it wont be always consistent as I am growing and learning!

Just a little disclaimer, he WILL be mean. He is a sour, nasty, grumpy, bastard and I am absolutely not opposed to him responding as such. Just keep that in mind when sending an ask if you dont want that!

If you want a common outcome, talk to other people about it! go crazy! I dont mind long threads on my posts if you want to create a plan. Infact, I can even help and tell you things occasionally!!

What you say to him DOES and WILL affect the way he responds. Trust is lost far easier than it is gained, so keep this in mind. It is possible to regain his trust, but still hard. He is not a trusting person to begin with and being mean certainly doesnt help. BUT.. I am not opposed to being mean. Infact, they are quite fun to do. Either way is entertaining for me, so do as you will. YOU can choose to hurt or help him.

Using tone tags, while not required, are really helpful and assist me in understanding the intention in your ask if you think it may be interpreted another way! (i.e. sarcasm) :-)!!

I pick and choose asks depending on his situation, or if i have a good idea for a response, so you may need to wait a bit before i can get to yours!! Ones that i have an idea for take priority, especially when its to progress a scene. Or, alternatively, i am saving your ask for something i have planned.

I WILL reuse frames and poses to get these out faster and for my convienence :-) especially for the frames where there is no need to change his pose! So like.. dont think too hard about it lol.

Also, i prefer if you specify if the ask is for me /or/ Spamton. I do still do normal asks, lol. If its for me, just let me know!! I can usually tell, but most asks will be interpreted as for Spamton. I appreciate ones that start with his name before said thing is asked/stated specifically!! (i.e. "Spamton, __ __ __")

I wont be consistent with the way its answered. Sometimes it's one panel, sometimes its a couple panels, or sometimes they're animated gifs!! It varies depending on what i feel, so if youre lucky you can get a gif, lol. Those take longer usually though. Ive mostly switched to a gif formatting rather than multiple panels in a comic style, for the formatting! The animation quality can vary :-)

Thats about it!! Have fun!! ^_^

#spamton #spamton g spamton #deltarune #[you've got mail!]#<- this is the askbox tag!#deltarune spamton #spamton deltarune #spamton askbox #[YGM!]#[YGM!] questions

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em-writes-stuff-sometimes · 7 months

Text

darilaros (princess) │ Chapter 7: Gone

terms of endearment ‘verse: see my Masterlist for the correct series order!

Chapter 1 ��Chapter 2 │Chapter 3 │Chapter 4 │Chapter 5 │Chapter 6 │Chapter 7 │Chapter 8 (COMPLETE!)

Synopsis: As the second daughter of King Viserys, you experience firsthand what it means to belong to the House of the Dragon. Your sister prepares for her wedding to Laenor Velaryon.

Hello! this one took a while, so am sorry, lol! My cat got attacked, which I hope is at least SOME excuse. This is another 8000+ word chapter, so yay! This covers the Episode 5 stuff, which is fairly self-explanatory. Thank you to my boobear @ewanmitchellcrumbs for coming back to me and beta-ing this thingo!

TRIGGERS: Episode 5 shenanigans. Nothing much else, really.

These are the things you have learned—

One: Uncle took ’Nyra somewhere at night.

Two: that ‘somewhere’ was terribly improper, a place that not even a maid would go if she wanted to be seen as respectable.

Three: he was caught kissing her and doing things with her, even when there were lots of people in the room at the same time.

Four: he left her there, and it was only because of Ser Harwin that your sister made it home safely.

Five: Uncle asked Papa if ’Nyra could be his wife, and Papa said ‘no’.

These are not things you tell others that you know. Septa will likely strike you with her switch if she hears you repeating any of it. If anyone finds out what you have managed to find out, they will start minding their words more carefully around you. That is not what you want.

Because you are small and quiet, it is very simple for you to collect secrets. For example, Lord Bar Emmon’s lady wife has been dallying with a knight from House Massey. Lord Rosby is in debt to bankers in Essos for borrowing large sums for gambling. Lord Darklyn has a bastard son that no one knows about. You overhear little things here and there, spot details that others might miss, and you learn, tucking information away inside your mind just in case. You make sure that these secrets are proper ones, too—from the hands and mouths of those they are about.

After the accident that gave you a small scar on your arm, Papa made it a rule that you must come visit him each day so that he can keep an eye on you. This is how you had heard ’Nyra and Papa talking in his chambers.

“…have exposed yourself. Now, we must both suffer the consequences.”

“Were I born a man, I could bed whomever I wanted. I could father a dozen bastards, and no one in your court would blink an eye…”

“…an end. You will wed Ser Laenor Velaryon, and you will do so without protest… You are my political headache!”

“… my duty as heir… you must first do yours as King.”

You had waited for a beat, then knocked, hoping that the look on your face was innocent enough that they did not think you had heard. It worked—you had been let in and conversation had turned away from things-you-are-not-allowed-to-know to things-you-are-allowed-to-know. After that, it was not so difficult to piece together what must have happened from the rumours flying around the court.

Now, you understand why ’Nyra and Uncle were sharing all those long looks. Why they would stand so close to each other. Why they would jump apart whenever you came. They are in love, or maybe they just want each other in the way grown-ups sometimes do, the way that means they wish to put their parts together and make babies. Whatever the reason, whatever they feel, it had been enough for Uncle to ask Papa directly; enough to be exiled for.

You keep Uncle Daemon’s letter—‘I will be back soon’—to yourself. If you tell Papa, he will just make it impossible for Uncle to return.

If Uncle marries ’Nyra, will they go to live on Dragonstone? you wonder. Will they have many babies together? Will they bring me if I ask very, very nicely? You would like it best with them, you are sure of it.

Thoughts of what life might be like with Uncle and ’Nyra entertain you on the days you are made to wait for ’Nyra and Papa to return from Driftmark, which is where Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys and Laenor live. Even though your sister wants Uncle, she has agreed to marry Laenor. You don’t know what to think. You hardly remember Laenor. It doesn’t matter, you decide. Uncle will stop it from happening.

Lord Lyonel has gone with them as the new Hand of the King. It was not hard to find out that Lord Otto had his spies follow your sister out of the Keep and report back to him, or that he had then gone straight to Papa to tell of what Uncle and ’Nyra did. Your sister often says that Alicent seduced Papa to become Queen and give him half-Hightower children so that they would inherit what rightfully belonged to her, and that Lord Otto made her do it. She has been telling Papa that for a while now. It seems he has finally listened, for Lord Otto has been made to go back to his family seat even though his daughter is Queen and he has princes and a princess for grandchildren. He has gone too far in spying on ’Nyra.

This all means that, even though Uncle is no longer here, Alicent still wishes to keep an eye on you. She does not have many friends in the Keep now that her father has left, and it has made her nervous. You are only seven summers old, but you understand the way of things well enough—you understand that she wants to be your friend now that she’s realised she is alone.

I’ve been alone this whole time, other than for ’Nyra, you think. It is an unkind thought, so you push it down and tell yourself that it really isn’t Alicent’s fault that she forgot all about you with three babies to take care of.

Septa Marlow takes you to the nursery each morning as always so that you can see the Queen and your brothers and sister. In truth, you quite like this arrangement—because they are so little, it gives you the chance to play with them, to pretend not to be so grown-up for a while. Or, rather, you play with Helaena. Aegon is at a stage where he likes to throw things, so you mostly avoid him. Helaena is a quiet companion, so playing with her mostly means passing her toys and watching her arrange them in neat little piles that make no sense to you but seem to give her a great deal of joy.

“Here, ’El,” you say, passing her the next item. She stops her normal routine when she sees what you have for her. “This is Marya, and this”—you take the other doll out from the makeshift wrappings you devised when still within your own chambers—“is Hana.”

Helaena babbles to herself as her pudgy fingers twist through the brown hairs sprouting atop the wooden doll’s head, surprisingly gentle for one as young as she is. She beams, a gummy spreading of lips that makes the corners of her eyes crinkle, and pats Marya’s wooden face.

“Dolly,” she whispers. “Marya?”

You nod. “Yes, it’s a dolly. Her name is Marya.”

Sometimes, you find that you need to repeat things to her. She often poses questions like this, as though she is unsure if she has heard you right, as though she wants approval. You wonder if you did that at her age.

“That is very kind of you, darling.”

You look up. From her seat by the window, Alicent surveys you and your sister with a small smile. Aemond sleeps on in her arms, seeming to care little for playtime. Is he not too old for that? you think. She can barely fit him in the cradle of her arm, but you suppose that Alicent has always been quite small-bodied.

You smile at her words. She has taken to calling you ‘darling’ as of late. You know not why. Still, it brings a flush of warmth tingling through your blood. “I thought she might like them,” you say.

It makes sense; your dolls were only laying there, doing nothing at all, and Aegon keeps breaking your little sister’s toys. Because she is so quiet, you sometimes wonder if her nurses just don’t realise that she is there and that she needs just as much to play with as her older brother. Your dolls are rather sturdy. They were made for you when you were three summers, so they ought to withstand anything he can subject them to.

It is as though your thoughts summon his attention to you.

“I want them, Mama!” Aegon cries, pointing in your direction. It takes you a moment to realise that he is not pointing at you, but at the dolls in yours and Helaena’s laps. “I want!”

“They are for Helaena, Aegon,” Alicent says, but it is no use. Aegon takes a deep breath, and you brace yourself as the scream pierces through the quiet of the room, quickly followed by the squawk and sobbing of Aemond.

Gwenys stands from her place beside Aegon and lifts him into her arms, trying her best to hush him. There is little point—now that he has it in his mind that he is being denied something he wants, there will be no dissuading him until he is spent from crying too much. As usual, she heads for the door, taking with her the low sounds of her soothing voice drowned out by the wails of your brother.

Alicent has not moved at all, aside from swaying Aemond gently and patting his back. She rarely ever tends to Aegon. There are times when she looks at him as though he is a complete stranger, as though she did not make him and carry him and birth him. You sometimes catch yourself feeling sorry for him, for the fact that his mama so clearly loves his younger brother more than she loves him. In some ways, you and Aegon are very alike—Papa loves ’Nyra more than he loves you. He loves ’Nyra more than he loves any of his other children, but that is because she is the heir and that means she is the most important. It is one of those facts that belongs in the drawer in your mind labelled ‘the way things are’.

Still, Aegon does not do any of the right actions that would get Alicent or Papa to love him more. He throws things and breaks things and yells and runs, and sometimes he will say the nastiest words like ‘I hate you’ to everyone when he is in one of his moods. At least you try. You use your manners and follow instructions and keep quiet and calm, which Septa says is what makes a lady respectable. Perhaps that is why Alicent is calling you ‘darling’ now.

“Dolly?” Helaena whispers again.

She is staring at Hana, so you prop the doll in her lap beside Marya. Your sister clutches them to her, burying her face in their hair so gently that it makes your chest feel tight and a lump grow in your throat.

You watch Helaena hug the dolls that used to be yours but now are hers, ignoring the little voice in your head that reminds you of the one you didn’t bring, the one you have kept all to yourself even though you’ve no need for it now. Of Alysanne, the doll with silver hair and purple eyes, no longer tucked away in a chest but resting beneath your pillow, hidden from the sight of all but you.

It seems like barely any time passes between the return of Papa and ’Nyra and the beginning of the wedding celebrations. Of course, that is not true, for there are days upon days of preparations—ravens to send out and replies to be received, journeys to be made to the capital and rooms to be cleared of dust to house the visitors, banners to be erected and decorations to be installed—that sweep seemingly all of King’s Landing into a frenzy. Not even you are free of it. Thankfully, your only role is to stand up straight with your arms out as the seamstresses pin and hem your dress for the event.

“What do you think, Princess?” Lina, the head seamstress, asks. You don’t know if she is speaking to you or to ’Nyra, who looks on with a smile.

“Lovely,” ’Nyra says, answering your unspoken question. She steps forward to brush light fingers against the neckline of the gown. It tickles. “Silver ribbons for the hair, I think. Could a belt be fashioned in the same colour?”

“Of course, Princess,” the seamstress is saying, but your attention has drifted to the guard that stands watch at the door.

Ser Criston has been strange as of late. Though he is usually always more quiet than not, there is something very unhappy about the way he surveys those in the room now. He is ’Nyra’s sworn shield, and yet his eyes seem to slide right past her, almost like he wants to pretend that she doesn’t exist. What surprises you the most is that ’Nyra notices—she gives him fleeting looks every so often, especially when he is fixed and still—but does nothing about it. She is not one to let an insult lie.

You have always liked Ser Criston. Before, when you were allowed to go about more freely, he would let you sit by him and talk while ’Nyra was busy pestering the minstrels to play more songs about Nymeria.

Your sister claps as the final note rings. “Again,” she demands.

Samwell sighs, flexes his fingers, and readies himself to play once more. As he plucks the strings of his mandolin, he lets his voice carry the melody forth.

“She fled with her ships and her people,

Her heart broken for those who had died.

But if they remained, they would perish

Under the dragon’s eye,

Under the dragon’s eye.

A hundred fell to the sea’s cruel sweep,

A hundred more to the Summer Isles’s tide.

The Queen lost many souls fleeing from

Under the dragon’s eye,

Under the dragon’s eye…”

You turn away from your sister and glance to the side, to where Ser Criston is sitting next to you on the bench. “You’re Dornish, Ser Criston. Are you not?”

It is what all the ladies at court say—even Ser Harrold has said so. It certainly makes sense, for the knight’s colouring looks the same as Nymeria’s in all the illustrations of her you have seen.

Ser Criston smiles at your question. “Not exactly. I… my father is Lord Dondarrion’s steward.”

“Oh.” You frown, thinking hard. “He’s from… the Stormlands?”

“Yes, Princess. Well done,” he says. You beam at the praise. Ser Criston turns to listen to Samwell’s song for a moment, the tale of Nymeria floating faintly through the air and carrying a great sadness with it.

You wait for him to continue. When nothing comes forth, you try again. “Why does everyone say that you are Dornish, Ser? You should tell them they are wrong.”

He laughs, a quiet sound. “They aren’t. My mother—she was Dornish.”

You have learned much about the difference between ‘was’ and ‘is’. ‘Is’ is for people who are living, who breathe and think and talk and laugh, like you; but ‘was’ is for those who are no longer here. Who have died and left the living to mourn them.

“What House was she from?” You keep your voice gentle. You don’t wish to make him sad.

Ser Criston shakes his head. “She was lowborn. A member of the commonfolk. My father encountered her on an incursion into Dornish territory. He fell in love with her at first sight, or so he’s always said.”

“That sounds nice.” You have never seen or heard him be so free with telling someone about himself before. Even now, after serving in the Kingsguard for as long as you can think of, this is the first you have learned of who he is beyond his ability to use a sword. “What was she like? Your Mama?”

At that, he says nothing. You sit and listen to the music, to the tale of a queen who is forced to begin again in an unknown land. You wonder if Ser Criston sometimes feels as strange in King’s Landing as Nymeria did in Dorne all those hundreds of years ago.

“I cannot recall my mother well, Princess,” he finally says. You just barely stop yourself from startling at the sound of him. He stares out at the grass, at nothing, appearing for all the world like he is unspeakably lonely. “She passed on when I was… very young. I know she was beautiful; I remember dark eyes”—like his, you think—“and the shape of her smile. At least, I think I do.”

He looks angry, or perhaps upset. It is hard to tell. You are not surprised, though, for men are often angry when they are made to think of sad things. There is little you can do to change his mood, but you still let your palm come to rest on his arm, patting it softly. He peers over at you. His face softens. You and he take shelter from the sun in silence, looking out as the final refrain of the minstrel’s song flows through the Godswood.

“… Th’ Dornish have yet to bow or to break

Under the dragon’s eye,

Under the dragon’s eye.”

You know what it is like to long for someone you cannot recall. You understand. In brief moments, Ser Criston has been a creature with a spirit much like yours. But he always disappears within himself and the Kingsguard returns, ready to do his duty no matter what. He is another of those that your sister sometimes strays a little too close to, so perhaps he is upset that she is in love with Uncle Daemon and not him. That would be very scandalous, you think, suddenly feeling rather sorry for him.

“… Well? Do you like it?”

You startle. Everyone is staring in your direction, so you shake such thoughts from your mind and glance over at yourself in the mirror. The dress itself is a shade of pale purple that gleams from the silver threads woven into the fabric; the collar is beaded with pearls and tiny diamonds; the bodice decorated with flowers and vines in dark purple and grey thread the colour of steel. It is far more elegant than anything you have worn before. You look like a real grown-up lady in it.

All you can do is nod, your eyes shining bright with excitement. Even though you will be wearing it to the feast for ’Nyra’s wedding to Laenor—to someone who is not Uncle—you are filled with a sudden impatience for the eve to come sooner.

The screech and roar of unfamiliar dragons drifts in from the distance, their dark shadows in the sky a balance with those of the Velaryon ships upon the water. The banners have been raised; the Great Hall prepared; the food made ready. Those who live within the Keep’s walls, including you, linger around the room in wait of the guests that come from all corners of the Realm.

You kick your feet beneath your chair as lords and ladies file into the hall, the booming voice of Ser Harrold announcing them each in turn.

“House Redwyne with their lord, Oren Redwyne!”

“House Hayford with their lord, Mathis Hayford!”

The arrivals become of greater importance the longer the festivities continue. Soon, the incoming nobles are declared with all sorts of titles after their House and name. “House Lannister with their lord, Jason Lannister, Lord Paramount of the West, and Master of Casterly Rock!” Ser Harrold calls out.

You do your best to avoid notice as Lord Jason walks down the steps, surrounded by people in different shades of red and gold to match his House. He makes his way forward, up, up, up the dais to stand before Papa and ’Nyra. Neither look very pleased by his presence, though he doesn’t seem to realise this.

“Congratulations, Your Grace,” he says, smiling as though he is an old friend of them both. “You have made a fine match for the Princess.”

Papa does not reply, just stares with his mouth frozen in an upturn. It forces ’Nyra to speak. “Thank you, Lord Jason. I could think of no better man than Ser Laenor.”

Uncle. Uncle. What about Uncle? you think, but you do not say it aloud.

Lord Jason makes a soft noise. You cannot tell if he agrees or if he is still upset that she refused him. “Well. If this is only the welcome feast, I admit I cannot imagine what you might have planned for the wedding.”

“My daughter is the future queen.” Papa looks at your sister with a great deal of love. She turns toward him, a glow of happiness on her cheeks. “I wanted this to be a wedding for the histories.” You wonder if your own wedding will be one for the histories someday, or if Papa only intends for his heir to have such treatment.

“Where is the Queen?” Lord Jason asks, glancing around. “I had hoped to pay my respects.”

It is a question you yourself had been thinking of. Alicent is not one to be late to important gatherings. It is very unseemly for a lady to do so. If she were still under Septa’s care, she would probably be scolded most terribly for it.

Papa pauses for a moment. “I understand the Queen is still readying herself for the celebrations.”

“This is why men wage war,” Lord Jason says with his chin tilted high. “Because women would never be ready for the battle in time.”

He laughs at his own words, though he is the only one. It is not a very good jest, for you can think of at least three ladies from history—Visenya, Rhaenys, Nymeria—who had waged war and done well at it. Papa and ’Nyra do not seem to find it funny either, for they merely look at him like he is stupid.

“Your presence is always such a pleasure, Lord Jason.” Your sister tries to be polite, but you can hear the bother in her tone.

The smile disappears from Lord Jason’s face. He bends at the waist in a short bow. “Princess. Your Grace.”

As he rises, his eyes flick to you. It is like he has only just spotted you here, two seats down from the King. He looks you up and down as though you are a prize horse. The curve of his lips as he does so is very off-putting. “Good evening, Princess,” he says to you.

Papa clears his throat loudly before you can respond. His hand is clenched tight around his cup, causing one of the scabs to crack slightly. A thin film of blood spreads slowly across the knuckle. It all serves to startle Lord Jason, who quickly averts his gaze and slinks back down the steps to where his brother sits.

The next group to greet Papa and ’Nyra begins their approach, only to be interrupted by another man. He cuts in front of them all. You do not recognise him. “Your Grace. Princess Rhaenyra. Congratulations are in order.” After he says this, he turns to you. “And my greetings to you, Princess.”

It is the first time someone has addressed you so far without making you uncomfortable, so you cannot help the warmth that spreads through you. “Hello, Ser.” It is as good a guess as any. You hope you have not erred.

Papa’s smile is much more real. “We are very honoured to have you as a guest, Ser Gerold.” His expression changes, dims, his brow twitching. “I must say,” he adds, wiping the back of his hand on the kerchief resting by his plate, “I was most distressed to hear of the Lady Rhea’s tragic passing. I’m very sorry for your loss.”

Rhea? Uncle has a wife named Rhea, you think with a frown. You notice Papa’s kerchief is streaked with red.

“Lady Rhea was a unique character,” Ser Gerold says. “Her kind… is not soon to be seen again.”

’Nyra surveys him with kind eyes. “If there is anything the crown might do to aid House Royce…”

It is Uncle’s wife who has died is the thought that crosses your mind as the drums begin to beat, signalling the arrival of someone very important. The guests that were lining up to pay respects separate to either side of the hall as the doors open and Ser Harrold cries, “Lord Corlys of House Velaryon, Lord of the Tides, Master of Driftmark.” At that, the Velaryons make their way into the hall in a sea of glittering black and gold. There are more of them than you ever thought possible—far more than your own House has. “And his lady wife, Princess Rhaenys Targaryen; and their son and heir, Ser Laenor Velaryon, the future king consort.”

Everyone claps as they walk toward the dais. Papa and ’Nyra stand and you follow—those who had been sitting do the same, rising to their feet in welcome of your Valyrian kinsmen. Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys bow and curtsey before you, Laenor stepping forward to do the same. ’Nyra leaves her seat to move around the table, and you are surprised to see her grinning at Laenor as he comes to meet her. She takes his hands; he kisses hers, and the applause begins anew.

As Laenor takes his seat beside ’Nyra—as Lord Corlys and Princess Rhaenys take theirs beside him, and the audience moves to find their own seats—someone comes in unannounced.

Uncle.

The room goes very quiet, and then the murmuring starts. Papa’s face is like thunder as Uncle Daemon strolls down the walkway with a smile and comes to a halt before him, as though daring him to make a fuss of his return. For a moment, you wonder if he will have the guards throw Uncle from the Keep.

Papa gestures to an attendant, who brings another chair to the end of the table. He will let him stay, then, you think. But Uncle does not sit in it. Instead, he looks at Lord Lyonel next to you, his brow raised.

“Well?” he asks. Lord Lyonel says nothing. Uncle scoffs. “Move. I would sit by my niece, Lord Hand.”

“My Prince—” The Hand of the King stops at the sight of Uncle’s barely concealed glare, a threat all on its own. He clears his throat and rises, the chair skidding back with a squeak as he steps aside. Uncle settles in the empty seat, shoulders hunching in that way he gets when he is trying to show everyone how carefree he is. He glances down at you and winks.

Papa turns from his brother to those gathered in the hall. “Be welcome, as we join together in celebration. Tonight is only its beginning…”

“Āmāzī,” you whisper, only just loud enough for Uncle Daemon to hear. You have come back.

He leans into your space to whisper his reply. “Kīvio sētetan, gōnton daor?” I made a promise, did I not?

You nod, thrilled. He remembered. He kept his promise. Your hand finds his below the table, hidden from view. He is warm as he always is, like fire, and he squeezes tight even as his expression shows a picture of boredom. Though he lets go quickly, the warmth remains.

“With House Targaryen and…” Papa suddenly falls quiet, staring out at the end of the hall. Everyone’s eyes, including yours, turns to follow his line of sight.

Alicent stands alone in the entry. That is not the strange part, of course—but what she is wearing is unlike anything you have seen her in before. Her gown is a shade of emerald, off the shoulder, a deep cut in the neckline exposing an indecent amount of flesh for a respectable noblewoman. It is beautiful, but alarming, for the oddity of it is matched by the almost angry look she wears as she silently approaches, people rising in turn when she passes.

She stops to greet ’Nyra. “Congratulations, stepdaughter. What a blessing this is for you.”

It is cold, completely different from the way she normally speaks to your sister. It seems ’Nyra notices, for she cannot come up with a response before Alicent is kissing Papa on his cheek, taking her place like nothing is out of the ordinary.

“Please be seated,” Papa says with a cough. The hall echoes with the sound of shuffling. “Where was I? Oh, yes.”

He grunts. This time, he lets his voice carry to fill the room. “With House Targaryen and House Velaryon united, I hope to herald in a second Age of Dragons in Westeros.” The guests applaud. “And after tonight’s small affair”—everyone laughs—“seven days of tournament and feasting.”

More clapping. “At the end of it all…” He is starting to sound out of breath, which is worrying. He has been unwell as of late. “At the end of it all, a royal wedding… between my daughter, my heir… your future Queen… and Ser Laenor Velaryon, the heir to Driftmark.”

Papa sinks to his chair like he has just run up and down every step in the Keep, and you can see his chest rising and falling like he is trying to find air. The sound of it is drowned out by the music that begins to play. ’Nyra and Laenor leave their seats to perform the first dance, impossibly graceful in their movements. They look rather lovely together, you cannot help but think. Still, it is not he she should be dancing with. Glancing over at Uncle, you see he appears to be thinking much the same thing. You are unsure if it is a petty sort of amusement playing along the corner of his mouth or a snarl threatening to reveal itself as he watches your sister with a man who is not him.

The dance comes to a close and everyone claps, followed by a rush of lords and ladies rising to join ’Nyra and Laenor on the floor. Alicent stands. You observe her making her way to the Hightowers at one of the lower tables. You stay in your seat.

“Pōnte imazumbilā?” Uncle asks, jerking his chin toward those dancing in the middle of the room. Will you join them?

“Mirtys drējī rhēdiō daor,” you say with a twist to your mouth. I don’t really know anyone. In truth, you would like to go and dance, but you dislike the idea of doing so with a stranger. Or worse, with someone who looks at you like Lord Jason did.

Uncle grunts. “Konir drives qubys issa.” That’s a poor reason.

You feel your cheeks heat with your embarrassment. It is not very brave of you, you know. “Usōven, kepus,” you say with a small voice. I am sorry, Uncle. A sting prickles behind your eyes.

“Aōma lilinna.” He gazes down with a softness he uses only for you. I will dance with you.

“Really?”

Uncle Daemon shrugs. “Lo jaelā, darilaros.” If you like, Princess. His head turns to face the gathering dancers again. You know, though, that he is really looking at ’Nyra, smiling and beautiful in her white gown. “Yn ēlī, mirros gaomagon ajorrāelan.” But first, I have something to do.

You wonder what he intends. Will he take Laenor to the side, ask him to run away and leave ’Nyra a woman without a betrothed once more? Will he grab hold of her and force her to the High Septon’s rooms, make him wed them before anyone can stop him? Will he declare his love for all to hear, give Papa no choice but to do away with the Velaryon match? Each thought, wilder and wilder, circles through your mind. Whatever he means to do, it will surely be worthy of a great deal of court gossip.

But then, a voice interrupts. “In the Vale, men are made to answer for their crimes. Even Targaryens.” Ser Gerold takes one step, then two up the dais.

Uncle remains unimpressed. “Who are you?”

“Ser Gerold Royce of Runestone.”

“And?”

You can see the clench of the man’s jaw. Uncle is being horribly rude. “I am cousin to your late lady wife.”

“Ah, yes,” Uncle says. “Terrible thing. I'm positively bereft. Such a tragic accident.” You want to sink to the ground, to hide away from this conversation. It goes against everything Septa has taught you about courtesy.

“You know better than anyone,” Ser Gerold says, “it was no accident.”

You glance between Uncle and Ser Gerold, worry churning your belly to sickness. The salted flavour of roasted boar turns sour in your mouth. What does he mean? you think.

Then, there is a faint brush of fingertips against your arm. You startle, peering to your left. Papa is leaning across Alicent’s seat. Though he has just touched you, he is staring across at Uncle and Ser Gerold. His eyes slide to you, and he nods to the dancers.

Go, he mouths. Your lips part with your rising protest, but he frowns hard at you. Now, he mouths again.

Scurrying from your chair, you crane your neck to find someone to take company with. There are not many options—’Nyra is busy dancing, though now with Ser Harwin, Lord Lyonel’s son, and Alicent is still speaking with her kin. Everyone else is a stranger to you. For a moment, you wonder if anyone would notice should you sneak to the doors and make your way back to your own chambers.

“Hello.”

Laenor Velaryon has broken away from the throng. Standing beside you, he looks every bit as lavish as a man about to be wed ought to be. His coat is richly embroidered in black and gold; the pendants upon his gold chain glimmer. There is so much detail to his attire that you do not know where to look. He is smiling down at you, his face gentle.

“Hello,” you say, wary.

“It has been quite a while since last we met, hasn’t it?” There is a way about him that makes me feel as though he’s an old friend, you muse. His expression is open, his arms relaxed at his sides. “You were rather a great deal smaller.”

“I am seven summers now.”

“And I am eighteen. Strange, how time changes us.” He folds his hands before him. “Would you care to dance?” he asks.

You shake your head, though a part of you wants to accept. He is very easy to be around, you are finding. Perhaps he is not so bad a choice after all. “I am waiting for my uncle.”

“Ah.” Silence reigns briefly. Then, he bends closer to your height, his pointed finger directed out to the crowd. “However… I do believe he’s occupied, Princess.”

You stare out onto the floor and watch as Uncle makes his way from Laena Velaryon, shifting between bodies like a snake slithers in grass, straight toward your sister. You watch him murmur something indistinct to Ser Harwin—he takes the man’s place—he swarms up against her, and the pair seem intensely concentrated on their conversation. They are barely dancing, swaying together in a vague rhythm to the music.

“Wonder what that’s about,” Laenor says.

You think you might know, but you say nothing. It is hard enough to keep the threat of jealousy from rising like poison at the sight of Uncle with ’Nyra—with her and not you. He promised you a dance.

Laenor sighs. “Look,” he says. You glance up. “I get the feeling you are not exactly pleased by this match. No”—he waves off your protest with a laugh—“it’s alright. I cannot say I was very happy, either. At first. But your sister… she’s quite the woman. I’ll be… content with her, I think. I just hope I can offer her the same.” He lightly places his hand on your shoulder, firmer when he realises you do not plan to shake him off. “I trust that you’ll set me right, should I behave in a manner less than what she deserves.”

He is painfully earnest as he looks at you, like he truly does intend to seek your guidance. You cannot say that of many people. At the very least, he is good at pretending you are important enough to need a high opinion from. It is more than you expected.

“I will,” you say.

It is too quiet, and you think he probably hasn’t heard you over the noise. But he smiles, pats your arm, and disappears back into the mass of people. You feel oddly thrilled by his kindness.

Now that you are alone once more, your eyes drift back to where you had seen Uncle and ’Nyra, near to the middle of the dancers. You spy two shocks of silver, bright against all the darker heads of hair—you see Uncle take ’Nyra’s face in his hand—he leans in—

He pulls away.

What is he doing? you think, frowning. Uncle is stepping back—’Nyra reaches out, though for nothing—he’s stalking off—

You don’t even realise you have followed him, that you have sidled along the edge of the wall to the door and slipped behind the guards, out of notice, until you are facing the looming dimness of the passages outside the Great Hall.

Behind you, someone screams. Then another. Another. More yelling. The door closes and the noise disappears, as if it never was.

You did not realise just how many guards had not been in attendance at the feast until now. They jog seemingly in pace, the crash of armour too loud, echoing as they rush toward the room you have just left behind. Perhaps they have been drawn by the sounds that had taken your attention also.

It forces you to seek a hiding place. You dart into the nearest alcove, and though it is not covered, you pray that it is too dark for anyone to take notice. Thankfully, it works. Your Papa’s men thunder rumble past with nary a look your way.

A creak from the door. A faint thudding, and whispers, and a gruff voice sounds out, clearer than the rest. “Something to cover it with… for the body… and fetch the High Septon to… wedding will take place when he arrives…”

“Now?”

“Yes, now! So, go and…” A wail, and then it is quiet again.

A manservant hurries his pace, footfalls ringing in the near-silence as he takes the steps up and up and up. You watch him disappear from view, surely having gone to carry out the order given to him. To fetch the High Septon, withdrawn into his own rooms somewhere far, far from your own, awaiting the day he is called to perform the ceremony. Tonight’s ceremony.

Tonight? The wedding is tonight? There was to be seven days before ’Nyra was married to Laenor! That is what Papa said earlier… is it not?

It takes a moment for you to remember how you have come to be here, so caught up are you in your whirling thoughts. A part of you wishes to return, to make sure that Papa and ’Nyra and Alicent are safe. ’Nyra is a Princess, you remind yourself. Alicent is the Queen, and Papa is King. Everybody will want to keep them protected. Besides, there is little you could do that the guards could not. You are only a little girl.

Then, it strikes you. Your purpose. Uncle. Where has Uncle gone?

You peer out, and immediately snap back into shadow. The hall is not empty as you had assumed, though it was perhaps silly of you to think otherwise. It is always full of life and activity. There are guards stationed by the stairs, by each archway projecting a further passageway, branching out from the main corridor; two or three messengers await, milling nervously opposite the doors you had just exited from; maids and servants walk by, uncaring of the chaos within, busying about with their duties as normal. Any one of these people could see you and know in an instant who you are. Your hair—your dress—it is all too easy to identify. And if they see you, know you, they will pass you off to a waiting guard, who will ensure you are returned to your rooms, to Septa Marlow.

How will you discover where Uncle is then?

You wait, hoping that the bevy of bodies will thin with each passing minute. As you wait, you listen to passing snippets of conversation from those who walk by. Then, you hear it. Uncle’s name is like a clanging bell out of the mouth of a nearby maid. Your ears strain to catch the rest. “… for Prince Daemon’s belongings to be… King’s Landing tonight… waiting in the courtya…”

“Yes, ma’am…”

Footsteps. Your mind races. No, no, no… Not again. Not now. Not so soon.

Belongings. Tonight. Waiting in the courtyard. You may be young, but you are no fool. Those words, in that order—it can really, truly only mean one thing.

It means that Uncle is leaving.

You wait. You wait through the fractured exchanges drifting to your shoddy hiding place, the morsels of what life must be like for those who live and work in the Keep. You wait through the spilling of people into the hall, the nobles who had witnessed whatever it is that had been hidden from you. You wait through their bewildered conversation—“a Kingsguard!” and “such a terrible omen!” and “what a ghastly sight!” being some of the choice fragments you can hear—and through their slow scattering back to whichever lodgings they had managed to secure themselves. You wait through the barking orders of the Kingsguard to “find the Princess!”—it seems all have finally realised you are no longer in the room—the thud of their boots easy to detects as they grow fainter, fainter, fainter.

Finally… quiet.

Well, not entirely. The doors are open once more, and you can just barely hear voices within, the sound of something heavy being dragged out. Grunting, as with some great effort. None of these are important. What is important is that finally, finally, the way is clear enough to steal out of the alcove and just across to the staircase, to sidle out of the hall and down the corridor. You thank whatever gods had favoured you that something shocking or maybe even horrid had occurred and given you a free path to the courtyard.

Your mind immediately rebels. What a terribly wicked thing to be glad for. If you had spoken it aloud—if Septa had heard you—you know you would pay the price for such sin.

When you arrive, the sight that awaits you is one you had hoped against hope you would not be greeted by. Even though you had heard the proof, the crushing weight of disappointment still feels heavy in your chest.

“Where are you going?” you ask, standing on the steps that lead to sand, to dust. To Uncle.

There he is—tightening the bridle on Varlet’s muzzle, reins in hand. Dark Sister is at his hip again. He must have fetched it from his rooms before commanding the servants to pack up his things, to send them along who knows where.

“Fu—” He cuts himself off, spinning to face you. A bad word, you presume. You see his face relax as his eyes scan you, recognising you even in dim torchlight. “Go back inside, sweetling,” Uncle says.

You cannot help the rush of tears that prickle behind your eyes. “You—Uncle Daemon, you cannot leave now!” You cast around for some reason, any reason you can find that might persuade him. “The—’Nyra is going to be married in the Great Hall soon. You have to be there. You said you would dance with me.”

This makes him release the reins, his fists clenching and unclenching at his sides, his eyes like slits beneath the steel shelf of his brow. The horse nickers cautiously behind him, toeing at the ground. After a moment where he does nothing but stand, silent and still, he moves, taking large strides toward you. Up, up, up the steps he goes, and then he is crouching before you.

“Talītsos”—little niece, he says, and as he speaks, his fingers reach out to swipe loose hair back behind your ear—“the King has asked me to leave. I must do as he says, correct?”

When have you ever cared what Papa says? you want to tell him. What about ‘Nyra? You are leaving her behind.

What about me?

Instead, what comes from your mouth is this: “When—when will you be back?” Your lower lip begins to shake. One of the tears falls, even though you tried so hard to keep them from doing so.

His thumb brushes it away. You can still feel the sting of it in the cool night air, though his skin leaves a trail of heat over your cheek. “I’m afraid… I’m not coming back.”

His face is unbearably soft as he says this, but it does not banish the shock, the dread that rises. You feel ill. You feel ill. Bile burns in the back of your throat.

“But… you promised,” you say. You wonder if you look as lost as you sound.

Uncle smiles, though it is weak. “I know. If I had a choice, you know I’d stay.”

You cannot count the number of people who might hear such a thing and take it for a falsehood. He is a rake; a villain; a rogue. He lies, steals, cheats. He is mad, he is cruel, he is the very worst thing that has happened to House Targaryen since your great-great-great-uncle.

But you know he means it. You know.

“Will I ever see you again?” you ask, close to a whisper. Any louder and you’ll burst into sobs, and that will surely bring the guards—you can hear them faintly calling your name—right to you.

Uncle takes your hand. His eyes are bright, sad. “Kostilus,” he says slowly—perhaps—using the language of Old Valyria the way he does whenever he wants to voice something fond, something gentle and warm. “Kostilus daor. Jēda ivestrilus.” Perhaps not. Time will tell.

That is not good enough. That is not nearly good enough—but what can you or he do? If Papa has decreed that Uncle must leave, then he must, for he is the King. There is nothing to be done. Nothing at all.

Before you even realise it, you’ve thrown your arms around him, burrowing as close as you can get. He smells the same—of salt and smoke and love love love. “Aōma ozmijīnna, kepus.” I will miss you, Uncle.

Instead of replying, he just hugs you tight, so tight that your ribs ache and you think you can feel his pulse against your skin, even through so many layers of fabric and leather. You can barely breathe from the force of it. It doesn’t matter. You try to carve out a space in your mind for the memory of this moment, this single point in time where he is here and you are loved and the rest is trivial.

But, like all good things, it comes to an end. He pulls away. He stares at you, almost as though he means to say something. He doesn’t. He cups your cheek, and then he stands. He walks back to Varlet. He mounts his horse.

The grief of it bursts from you like an almighty cannon, wrenching with heaving, painful gulps. It surges with loud, ringing sobs, your nose stoppered up so wholly that you cannot breathe, so much so that it blocks out all sound, all feeling. You do not hear any last words. You do not hear the gate open. You do not hear the striking of hooves on the ground as Uncle Daemon rides away, getting smaller, past the gate, out of reach, going, going…

Gone.

It will not be long before the guards are drawn to you by the sound of your tears. It will not be long before they march you back inside. It will not be long before you must sidestep a crumpled Targaryen banner in the entry of the Great Hall, before you are brought into the grasp of Papa and ’Nyra, before you are made to listen to their panicked reproaching.

“Don’t ever run off like that again!” Papa will cry out, grabbing you by the shoulders with unsteady, shaking hands. He will loom over you, an expression battling between relief and anger playing out over his grey face. “We thought… we thought…”

“It does not matter what we thought, Father,” ’Nyra will say, lips tipped up in a smile despite her wet eyes and dishevelled hair. “All that matters is that she’s safe.”You will wonder why she appears so untidy, but there will be no time to ask.

As the High Septon performs the ceremony, as ’Nyra and Laenor repeat their vows in stunned, shaking voices, you will stand beside Alicent, in front of Papa. And, after your sister kisses her new husband on the cheek, Papa will collapse to the ground, knocking you lightly on the way. Alicent and ’Nyra and Lord Lyonel and Lord Corlys will crouch to his aid, booming voices clamouring for the guards to fetch help. Papa will be taken out of the hall on a pallet, speedily dispatched to his chambers for tending to by the maesters. Everyone will rush about, fretful beyond measure for the King’s health, while you are overlooked once more.

You will find yourself staring at the discarded banner of your House, the red of the dragon darker, deeper, like blood. You will feel a twisting in your belly at the sight. You will return to your rooms where it is dark, where you are alone, and you will ready yourself for sleep with no joy for the day that is to greet you when next you wake.

All of this will happen.But right now—here, on the steps leading to the courtyard which leads to the city which leads to a world far, far out of reach—you will watch the gate, wondering if Uncle will change his mind, waiting for him to come back.

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gojoidyll · 23 days

Note

I was wondering...Aventurine's s/o who sometimes is misgendered as a man (fem! reader)

Any thoughts? 👀

I have many thoughts about this anon, some I would definitely like to share 🤭

Let's see, to me, if you're being misgendered and Aventurine just so happens to see it, then I can see it happening in the workplace, at the casino, or on a date.

But mostly at the workplace because lets face it, the IPC haven't exactly been painting themselves as the good guys lately 😐 and I can see a few of your coworkers being this way (be it new employees who do it by accident or stubborn old ones who are just plain rude).

"You should go ask him. He knows a lot about the subject and could help out with the project."

You weren't far away from the people who were having the conversation since you all were in the same office, and since it was such a small office housing only seven or so desks, it was easy to hear every single conversation and know who was talking about who.

"Thank you, I will!"

You didn't want to turn away from your computer despite the heavy thumps of footsteps coming up behind you. Instead, you tried to ignore it and continue typing away at your report. Your eyes heavy and focused on the computer as your fingers mercilessly hit the innocent keys.

"Sir? Excuse me, sir?"

You resisted the urge to groan aloud. This always happens. Mainly for two reasons. One, the stubborn fool who keeps misgendering you refuses to acknowledge that you're a woman. And two, the same stubborn fool insists to new employees of the IPC that you're a man and should be referred to as such.

And with a final tap on your shoulder, you sighed. Your feet planted on the ground as you swiveled your chair around.

"That's ma'am to you."

The new recruit was quick to fumble and bowed, "I'm sorry, ma'am! I was told that you could help me with- blah blah blah blah blah," you couldn't care about what he was saying. Not when your alarm went off, signaling your lunch break.

"Sounds interesting newbie, but if you'll excuse me, I'm going to lunch."

You didn't let the new employee get another word in as you got up and did a little stretch before walking out of the office while also being sure to ignore the smug looking bastard who waved at you while you left. Working in such a place exhausted you, and you hoped to hide your tiredness when you met up with the one person who made it all worth it. But...he noticed immediately the moment you sat down in his comfy couch in his own personal office.

He was already beside you when you sat down, and instead of grabbing his own food, his mesmerizing eyes bore into you.

"What's wrong?"

His voice always sounded tender when he talked with you, especially when he knows you've been having a bad day. He doesn't use his condescending voice or the voice he finely tunes to get people to like him. He is just ... being himself. Granted it's behind closed doors, but you were thankful that he didn't wear his bluff around you.

"It's...," to be honest, you've been dealing with this coworker for a long whilen now, and even though it's hurts being called something you're not, you thought you could handle it yourself. Though, lately, it's just been getting harder, "it's just this coworker of mine. He ... he keeps misgendering me. I know it sounds stupid and that I'm probably just being too sensitive but..."

"Name."

"Huh?"

"The name, give me the name of this coworker of yours," Aventurine said smoothly as he leaned into you, his arm slung around your shoulders as his fingers lightly twirled a strand of your hair between his fingertips. His warmth immediately engulfed you into a comforting embrace that you couldn't help but lean into. Despite being such a calculating person, he always had a way of disarming you and making you feel safe.

"Aven... it's nothing. I just, I just need to vent a little is all."

"Venting is great and all, but that doesn't solve the problem. Besides, who told you that you're being too sensitive anyway? Being hurt over something isn't something to be ashamed of. So, the name. Give it to me, and i can make it all better. Promise."

His tone held that usually lilt in his voice that scratched your ears just right. Honestly, he could be telling you the nightmares within a black hole, and you would be putty in his hands.

And so, with little resistance, you relinquished the name of the stubborn coworker who keeps giving you trouble. Granted, you did worry that you were getting special privileges since your boyfriend was in a higher station than you, but don't worry about that. You are Aventurine's significant other after all, there is nothing wrong with relying on him every once and awhile. ;)

#honkai star rail #hsr #honkai star rail aventurine #aventurine #aventurine x reader #hsr aventurine #aventurine x you #aventurine x y/n

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rpstartersinc · 6 months

Text

* 𝐀 𝐏𝐋𝐀𝐆𝐔𝐄 𝐓𝐀𝐋𝐄: 𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐎𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐂𝐄.

feel free to change pronouns / wording!

" you are dawdling! "

" i'll show you i'm not a child anymore. "

" you are much faster than i am. "

" this grass will keep you hidden if you stay low. "

" what devilry is this? "

" the forest is out of bounds until further notice. "

" we must have sinned something rotten to be punished so. "

" the smell of your cooking warms the heart. "

" you know you are not supposed to be here. "

" did he talk? "

" i don't have time to play games. "

" think it's funny making me run like that? "

" you'll get nothing out of me! "

" you're going to get us killed! "

" i'm not scared of dying you know. "

" be sure to stay in the light. "

" they ate him! "

" try not to look. "

" we can't do anything for them now. "

" the air... it's burning my throat... "

" they are not going to catch us, alright? "

" you should hide, it's dangerous. "

" when a rat bites you it poisons your blood. "

" maybe there's a monster in it. "

" it's not good to be alone. "

" you're just like all the others! "

" you're no fun. "

" you're lucky i like gold better than blood. "

" the better you look, the higher the ransom. "

" that's war for you. "

" i'm making your rescue profitable. "

" i've had enough of running. "

" he's going to slaughter us! "

" there's nowhere for you to go out there. "

" don't get all lovey-dovey. "

" you trying to impress me or what? "

" don't worry, we're all scared of what's in our heads. "

" try to be a bit more enthusiastic, will you? "

" use your eyes before using your mouth. "

" i would quite like to see a monster, actually. "

" i just don't like water much, that's all. "

" i'm sorry i lied to you. "

" a good remedy is a remedy that stinks. "

" the storm will drown out our voices. "

" you've read too many books. "

" you were having a bad dream... "

" brothers... sometimes you just want to kill them. "

" the first rule of survival is hit 'em between the legs. "

" that sound... you never get used to it. "

" i don't want to hear another peep out of you. "

" you have no idea how i have suffered. "

" i might've got a little carried away. "

" when you enter a place that has been abandoned for a very long time, there's something in the air. "

" i'm here with you. "

" it's like a river... a river of rats. "

" we haven't done all this for nothing. "

" what will be will be. "

" it's as if it was decided that ever since we met our lives have been governed by chaos! "

" none of this seems to be real at all. "

" you're not sleeping? "

" you're going to tell me about rules? "

" a child never runs away without a reason. "

" it is easy to spill blood, but to love, to protect... "

" they didn't hurt you, did they? "

" this is no place for a child. "

" nobody saw me. "

" your rank should make you more cautious. "

" you are a vile heretic driven mad by power. "

" we have the same goal. "

" this guard was devoured... "

" they use our dead to build their nests? "

" you wouldn't like it out there, believe me. "

" for the last time, will you answer my questions? "

" no one will hurt you now. "

" this is not a game. "

" you are a monster! "

" you don't have a home anymore! "

" i'm ready to die, it will even be an honour. "

" the rats will be coming, we need to light the fires. "

" i have to accept that he won't be coming back. "

" you're like a hero from a book or something. "

" i thought you said this place was secure! "

" we got that bastard! "

" you lied to me! "

" you are no longer any use to me. "

" my blade is still warm, as you will soon find out. "

" since you refuse to go to hell, i shall bring hell to you. "

" i'll tear them apart! "

" i wish i was strong like that. "

" you're a tough guy, tougher than i am. "

" i can't take any more of these bloody rats! "

" thank you for your candour. "

" calm down... it's over. "

" you want to try your hand at shooting? "

" we just don't want any trouble here, do you understand? "

" that's not true... but it doesn't matter. "

#( sentence. )#sentence starters #sentence meme #rp meme #rp starters #video games #a plague tale #a plague tale innocence

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nokiatelava · 2 months

Text

✿✿My People✿✿

Author’s Note - Hi again! I don’t have much to say I think!! I think this one is gonna be a bit long.. Longgggg.. But I hope you all enjoy the story!

Summary - Today is the day you absolutely dreaded. You’re moving away, and your father is stepping down from Olo’eyktan. Now Awpxey’s parents had made their decision, and you’re all ears waiting for him to tell you.

Warnings - crying, mentions of a knife, mentions of a cut, kissing, actually moving, flashback from getting kidnapped, anxiety, throwing up, small fainting spells, girl having a crush on a girl, comfort

That morning, you woke up feeling heavy. Incredibly heavy.

You sighed as you continued to fake sleep, hoping to catch more of a desired slumber.

“Y/n.” You hear a voice. “Y/n, wake up.” Soon after you feel a hand come down onto your shoulder, shaking you gently.

Scrunching your face you open your eyes, your vision is blurry at first and it scares you.

It reminds you of that night all those weeks ago.

Your breath picks up more as you still could barely see.

You shot up to sit up straight, your arms coming out in front of you to feel around your surroundings.

Your body is slowly becoming more frantic and you’re panicking.

“Hey, hey. I’m right here, it’s okay, it’s okay.” Your arms are pushed down before your head is placed onto someone’s shoulder.

“D-dad?” Your voice is weak as your chest rises and fell quickly.

“I’m right here, it’s me babygirl. It’s okay.”

You closed your eyes as you reveled silently in your father’s arms. His warm hand rubbing your back up and down worked to calm you down.

“Sorry dad.. I just got scared because I couldn’t see..” You whispered embarrassingly.

“Don’t apologize for it Y/n. I know what happened that night was really, really scary.” You nodded against Jake’s shoulder, closing your eyes and taking a deep breath.

After a minute of silence you couldn’t hold it back anymore.

“I don’t wanna leave.” You let out a sob, tears falling onto the crook of your dad’s shoulder.

“I know babygirl, I know. I don’t want to leave either.” Jake’s voice became a bit shaky as he really thought about the situation.

Of course your going to be sad you have to leave. You were born here, raised here, had all of your good and bad moments here.

Because of the Sky People, you are being ripped away from your home, family, and life.

The future you had planned for yourself now is completely ruined.

Those bastards have ruined everything for you.

What they did to you that night has left you traumatized and full of scars.

A scarred state of mind and a scarred body.

You can’t go to bed peacefully at the thought of the terrors that haunt you. You can’t even wake up without a skipping heart from a simple tap on the shoulder.

“What they did to me that night wasn’t right dad.” You shook your head as the tears only fell more.

Jake only nodded, rocking you in his arms as the tears in his eyes started to spill over.

“You’re here now, and I got you. I’m not going anywhere Y/n.” You let out a small smile at your father’s reassuring words.

“I’m gonna be here to protect you always.”

“Thank you dad.” You pulled away from the hug, still smiling. “I love you.”

“I love you more Y/n.”

Jake caught sight of the remaining tears left on your sleeked cheeks, so he brought his hands to cup your face, and gently swiped his fingers under your eyes.

“He’s cleaning your tears for you just like he had done when you were a baby.” Another voice is heard from behind you, you look to see it’s your mom, a small smile on her face as she looked at the scene in front of her.

“You were always falling, scraping your knees.” Neytiri kneeled down next to you, brushing loose strands of your hair behind your ear.

“You always tried to be a little tough guy. Holding your tears and not looking any of us in the face.” Jake laughed as he recounted the many memories.

“I was just embarrassed!” You defended yourself.

“You never complain when you’re in pain Y/n, and that scares us.” You looked at your mother.

“It scares you guys?” You asked quizzically, and Jake nodded quickly. “A lot.”

You huffed as you thought about it. There has been a lot, a lot, of times where you’ve been in pain and have never said anything.

“Sorry guys..” Your ears fold down as you feel a sense of disappointment in yourself, but your parents smile as they hug you.

“Stop apologizing Y/n.” They said in sync.

Next thing you know, other hands and bodies are felt toppling onto your hug.

“Yeah sis, you should cut that out.”

“Lo’ak, I’m gonna be nice to you this once.” You sigh in warning, rolling your eyes.

After making sure you, and everyone else had their stuff.

It was now the time to do the most difficult thing in your life.

The ceremony of your father stepping down from Olo’eyktan was soon, and you couldn’t stomach it.

Your body only felt the need to churn itself more as the sight of Awpxey came into view.

Your shoulders sagged as he got closer to you.

“If you came to tell me bad news, just don’t say anything.” All Awpxey did was hug you.

And you had obviously interpreted that wrong, thinking without asking.

You wiped your eyes as your lip quivered intensely, sniffling like a wild animal.

“I’m gonna miss you so much.” Your voice was faded and broken as you shook in his hug.

“No, no, no, no, no! Y/n, Y/n I’m so sorry I didn’t mean for it to come off like that.” Awpxey moved back and held your face in his hands.

“I’m going with you.”

It was like a heaven in your ears, as if an angel was actively talking to you.

“Really? Y-you are?” You grabbed onto his forearms to keep your balance as what he said made you dizzy.

“Yes Y/n I am, I swear!” You cupped his face, bringing him into a passionate kiss.

You weren’t really thinking much about where you were while you were freely kissing your boyfriend.

You pulled away from the kiss. “Awpxey where are your parents? I-I have to say thank you to them. I have to because they’re letting you come with me and we’re going so far.”

You scratched your head as you moved away, trying to peer into the huge crowd of people who were awaiting the ceremony to start. Trying to spot Itxä and Puo.

“We’ll find them later, okay?” He pulled your hand gently from your head, holding them in both of his hands.

You looked into his eyes, smiling giddily.

“I’m excited..” You whisper, pulling your hand to cover your smile.

“I am too.” Awpxey’s ears twitched as your laugh registered in his head.

“I’m really thankful for your parents you know… For letting you actually come with me.” You swallowed as you looked down.

“You’ve gotten me to open up. A lot. And with something like this, all I need is support.” You started to nervously chew your lip as you thought carefully for your words.

“I don’t have a lot left to give Awpxey..” Your throat started to hurt as it felt like it was closing in on itself.

“If I had to be there by myself, I don’t think I would have talked ever again.” Your voice broke. “I love you a lot Awpxey. And you have done so, so much for me. And I can’t thank you enough.”

Awpxey smiled at your words, reaching his hands up and wiping your tears away. “Don’t cry for me Y/n.. I’m happy I’m going with you. I’m going to be here to support you forever.” You laughed through your tears, nodding while you wiped you eye.

“I’ve cried a lot today already.” You laugh embarrassed. Awpxey laughed, “have you?”

You nodded, “oh yeah. Started right after I woke up.” You shook your head as you wiped your hands on your loincloth.

“Today is a stressful day Y/n, it is not your fault.” You fiddled with your hands awkwardly.

“Can I have a hug Awpxey?” You physically felt like leering the other way because of the question.

Awpxey only grinned. Without a word he wrapped his arms around you, squeezing you close to him.

You returned the gesture back, letting a deep breath go as you tried to mentally prepare yourself for what was to come.

Your father looked on from afar, watching how you and Awpxey interacted.

He doesn’t know exactly how to feel.

He’s happy, happy his first babygirl has found the love from somebody she wants.

He’s angry, angry as he feels like your being taken away from him, angry as he feels like his love wasn’t enough.

He’s sad, sad as he realizes you have finally grown up, you are no longer a baby. No longer crawling around, no longer sucking your thumb, he’s no longer rocking you to sleep.

His fingers twitch as he remembers what it was like picking you up. You were the chubbiest baby out of all your siblings. Lo’ak not to far behind.

In the end, all Jake did was let out a soft, small smile.

He is happy.

Your fingers shook as you had them held tightly to your sides. Watching closely as your father stood in front of the young warrior he was passing his title over to, Tarsem.

Your heart pounded hardly in your chest, the harmonic beat loud in your ears.

You watched as Mo’at spoke, her words going in one ear and out the other.

You couldn’t stand the moment of silence, the moment of silence right before the knife Tarsem held came down to your father’s chest.

The scream Tarsem let out rattled through you. You were so jumpy, too antsy. Your eyes wide open as you looked on in a somewhat fearful way.

Awpxey’s hand came around and fell lightly onto your lower back. “It’s okay Y/n, just breathe tìyawn, breathe.” You let out a breath you had no idea you were holding.

Your father is no longer Olo’eyktan.

Your mother’s head fell as she began to cry. You were quick to wrap yourself around her, holding her head to your shoulder.

Your heart continued to pump harshly in your chest, and Awpxey stood right behind you, his hand rubbing your shoulder warmly.

You tried your hardest to hold your tears, but it was impossible.

When your father stood back up straight, wails were audible from the crowd.

The people were almost just as sad as you. The Olo’eyktan they’ve had for almost two decades now has to step down early.

Their Toruk Makto is leaving. The man who had led them to victory against the Sky People 17 years ago.

When your family approached the crowd, the people split just like the sea. Allowing your family to walk through the middle.

People turned their heads to hide their crying faces, children watched on in sadness as they had to see you leave.

Many cried.

Not only did you babysit, but you also taught a group of children.

They loved you like you were family, and you the same. So to hear their cries for you only broke your heart more.

You had to force yourself to walk forward.

Soon, you were approaching where you all were supposed to meet your ikran.

That was until you seen Itxä and Puo.

Your knees started to feel weak and you didn’t know what to do. When you finally got close enough, you were able to see their happy but saddened faces.

“Thank you so much for letting Awpxey come with us.” You look between the both of them, your hands coming to rest over your heart. “I am forever grateful.”

Itxä smiled at you, pulling you into a hug. “I know our son loves you very much. He wouldn’t have taken no for an answer regardless of what we could have said.” You both laughed, rocking in the hug.

When you separated, you turned to Puo, the small smile you had still on your face.

“Take care of yourself Y/n. Remember to take time for yourself.” You nodded at Puo’s kind words, pulling him into a hug also.

You left to give Awpxey time with his parents. So you walked towards your grandmother, who was busying herself with petting Azraa’s head.

“Grandma.” You called, playing nervously with your shawl. Mo’at turned to look at you quickly, a bitter smile on her face.

“We are leaving soon, I wanted to say goodbye one last time.” Your grandmother only nodded, her throat too dry to force words out.

“Protect yourself over there Y/n. If you need to, always separate yourself if you need time to heal.”

“Here,” she pointed to your chest, insinuating your heart. “And here.” Placing her finger directly in the middle of your forehead.

You wrapped your arms around her, hugging her tightly.

“I’m gonna miss you grandma..” You whisper, biting back the new wave of tears.

“I will miss you too Y/n.” The two of you talked for a little bit before the rest of your family finally re-grouped and Awpxey came along.

You noticed his face was red, and you knew immediately he had to have been crying. But you didn’t say anything out loud, not wanting to put him on the spot.

Though, you did brush a finger over one of his knuckles as you stood together.

Your hands intertwined when your father started speaking.

“The journey to the clan we’re moving to is a long one.” Your dad looked through all of you. “About 5 days.” Your dad sighed.

Tuk let out an exaggerated groan, “why does it have to take so long?” Jake smiled as he responded. “So we can be safe Tuk, we need to be far away from here.” His hand came down to her head, softly running his hand through her braids.

“So we won’t make it there by tomorrow?” Her childish innocence make your heart slow a bit. She still doesn’t even know what is completely going on.

“No, we won’t make it by tomorrow Tuk.” Neytiri laughed as she reached under Tuk’s armpits, picking her up.

“You want to ride with Mama?” She spoke to Tuk kindly as she walked towards her ikran, Tuk’s nods being visible from far away.

“Let’s head out now..” Your dad merely whispered, walking with his head down as he approached his ikran, Bob.

You looked at Awpxey, nodding before exchanging a quick kiss — though it was more peck like.

You all mounted your respective ikran, flying towards the edge of the forest.

When you all were far enough, you turned to see the view.

And oh my Eywa was it beautiful.

You wished you could have enjoyed the beauty under best circumstances. This will probably be the first and last time you ever get to see a beautiful, full view of your home.

You try not to acknowledge that information as you turn around on your Ikran, facing forward ready to try and embrace this change.

The journey was tough.

Some days were hard as your family had to travel through storms. You had never seen the ocean before,and you were shocked to how angry it could get. The waves would hit high, the strikes of sounds that violently percussed off the rocks when the waves hit them punched a sense of fear in your stomach.

At one point while you were flying over a rock, a very, very strong wave reached up, going past Azraa’s stomach — her whole body — which had gotten you both drenched in saltwater, and had also pulled you down towards the relentless, unforgiving sea below.

After that, you had made sure to stay clear of being too close.

On the last day of your flight, you sighed in exhaustion as your butt felt so sore, your head feeling dizzy while your stomach turned.

At least it was sunny outside.

It was early in the day, which was great because it would give the clan you’re coming to a whole day to warm up to you. You gained the knowledge that the clan’s species was Metkayina, and the village you will be asking to live in is called, Awa’atlu.

When the island had finally came into sight, all you could do was smile. The feeling of going up and down and the swaying of flying made you feel sick, although you loved to fly, it was an action that wasn’t meant to be used long.

When you had flown over the tide pools and pass some living spaces, a loud conch was blown.

Multiple times.

It felt like the vibrations were traveling throughout your whole body, your stomach dropping as a nauseous feeling crawled up your throat.

When landing, the feeling of not being in the air felt foreign, and your body leaned forward, slumping as you blacked out for 3 seconds max. Coming to, you got off your Ikran, disconnecting from the overdue Tsaheylu, making your kuru feel sore.

People gathered quickly, spears held up towards the Sun, making the dangerous weapons glint with a deceiving shine.

Your legs shook like jello as you walked, and you held onto the gear around Azraa to keep you steady. That was until a hand wrapped around your bicep, pulling you in.

Without looking you immediately laid your head against that person’s shoulder, already knowing who it was.

“Awpxey..” You licked your dry lips as you shook your head. “I feel sick. I don’t feel good at all.”

Awpxey only rubbed your back, noticing the way your skin felt clammy as he tried thinking of something to say that won’t make you feel worse.

“We won’t be here for long Y/n, we only need to be granted the permission of sanctuary, and then you can sleep.” He whispered quietly into your ear, deciding on that as he knew how tired you must feel.

You sighed, thinking negatively and wondering what would happen if you weren't granted Uturu.

What do you do then? Are you supposed to just hold through and fly for Eywa knows how long until you finally fall upon a village that will take you in?

Your thoughts were interrupted when a creature flew over the heads of your family. You didn't put effort in ducking. Your knees were too weak and you knew that the person commanding the animal was not going to hit your family on purpose.

A man had climbed of the loud screeching creature. And by the outfit and accessories he had on, he had to be the Olo’eyktan.

And he obviously was because as soon as he was close enough, your father had greeted him with his hand coming to his forehead and down with a small bow. Looking behind himself to make sure the rest of you were following him in front of the watchful eyes of the clan.

“Olo’eyktan Tonowari, Oel Ngati Kameie.”

The Olo’eyktan was kind, he looks kind, and he was quick to greet your father, and all of you back the same way.

“Jake Sully, Oel Ngati Kameie.”

As your father and Tonowari got to talking, you closed your eyes. Trying to level your breathing and calm the waves of nausea that flipped your stomach.

Your attention was taken as you heard the shuffling of sand, and an increase of the murmurs from the clan that was gathered around you.

You reluctantly peeled your eyes open, they burned from the duration of time they were forced to be held open.

You noticed the crowd parting, making way for a figure that hasn’t yet meet your sight. Though you gained an idea as you heard the melodic rattle of what seemed to have been seashells.

Your theory was proven right when a woman had exited the crowd, her pace was slow and she walked cautiously, watching every single one of you.

You could barely focus on the conversation that was happening between your parents and the clan leaders. The only thing you could do was try to ignore the way the Sun beat your back, the usual warm, sunny feeling felt dreadful as it spread an uncomfortable heat throughout your body. This only made the feeling in your stomach worsen, your face tightened, your eyebrows stiff together.

Awpxey felt it against his shoulder, and he turned to you, concerned. “Y/n?” He seen your expression, and quickly wiped a hand against your forehead, a cold sweat was the outcome against his fingertips.

“Shit.” He mumbled, “hold on for me tìyawn, please.” Awpxey adjusted your body, holding you in a way that was comfortable for both of you as he felt your body start to slack.

“Awpxey.. ‘M s-so tired.” Your teeth chattered as your eyes began to close. “Hey, hey Y/n, can you stay awake for me?” Your eyes barely moved, but Awpxey had seen that Amber yellow and was satisfied,

He ran a hand through your sweaty hair, wanting to find a place to kiss you that wouldn’t bother you.

Before he even could, the Tsahìk was standing in front of you both, she looked at you closely.

Eywa has said something to her in her heart about you, she took a liking to you. But looking at the state you were in, it tugged her heartstrings.

It… Shifted something within her.

But before any actions were made, you couldn’t hold back the bile that emitted from your stomach.

It fell right into the sand.

Right in front of the Tsahìk’s feet.

Soon after, your legs gave out, knees buckling as you fell into the sand, Awpxey falling with you while holding you close.

“I-I’m so sorry.” You chattered out.

How embarrassing…

Though after, your heart drooping to your ass as you realized this whole little thing could jeopardize your family staying here.

The Tsahìk was quick though.

“You,” she pointed to Awpxey. “Follow my healers to one of the healing maruis, I will continue here.”

You were pulled up slowly by Awpxey, as he followed two women who stepped from the crowd.

Your father looked as he seen you walk away, your legs barely strong enough to hold you up.

It made him ridicule himself.

How had he not noticed? How had he not seen you become like this when you hopped off Azraa?

His own questions floated, floated in what seems like a pit of too many things to remember and too many things to be doing.

It’s like if his brain is running out of storage, his head working up too much.

The bouncy sensations of the walkways that allowed the Metkayina to walk around their village did little, but a lot to help you.

As you walked, the bouncing gave you a bit of a cooling sensation from the warm sweat you felt breaking out on your body, but it sure as hell didn’t help that twisting feeling in your stomach.

You still felt sick.

By the time you had finally made it to the healing tents, and by the time the women had placed a good sized bowl in front of you… You had thrown up again into it, filling it up almost halfway. The healers looked shocked, but tried their best to just continue setting up whatever they needed to make a salve for you.

Awpxey held and guided your body to a free mat in the corner, trying to shade you from the Sun peeking harshly into the marui.

One of the young healers looked on at you two in a curious bewilderment. Watching the way Awpxey sweetly spoke to you and comforted you.

Is this what love looks like?

A gentle snap in front of her face was what she got as her answer.

“Aiya!” Another young healer whispered yelled the girl’s name, calling her attention and giggling at how she looked at the both of you.

“Instead of gawking, finish grinding the powder so we can add it to the medicine!” The young girl’s cheeks darkened at the word gawking.

What gawking? She wasn’t gawking was she?

“R-Right sorry! I wasn’t gawking though!” With a reluctant breath Aiya grounded the powder until it was thinner than it was before, slowly pouring and mixing it in with the medicine they were to give you.

“How about you go take it to her Eiya? Since you, you know, enjoyed staring at them earlier.” One girl joked, and even though it was supposed to be a joke. All the other girls quickly agreed, handing the medicine to Aiya before nudging her forward, and just leaving.

And leaving. Leaving. They just left, just like that. What friends they are. They know how hard it is for her to talk to strangers.

She walked hastily, trying her best to bring you the medicine to make you feel better without spilling it.

When she reached Awpxey’s back, she poked him.

“Mh.. Give this to her, have her drink it.” She held out the small bowl, and Awpxey took it gently, explaining what you needed to do before softly placing the bowl in front of your mouth.

Aiya wanted him to work quicker. She wanted to see you get better. She had this foreign, impatient urge to… Talk to you.

When you finally finished drinking the medicine, Awpxey making sure you had every last drop, you had taken a deep breath.

The twist in your stomach started to disappear, your skin started to feel less moist and finally cooled down, feeling how it usually did any day in the Sun.

“Wow..” You whispered astonished. “I feel so much better already!” You looked between Aiya and Awpxey.

“Thank you so much for that medicine, it’s really working!” You smiled at Aiya, slowly scanning your eyes around her face.

She’s really pretty.

It wasn’t said out loud, but you and Aiya had thought it at the same time as each other. But only looking into each others eyes, you both knew exactly what the other thought.

Awpxey noticed how the both of you seemed to have clicked, though he didn’t say anything, just let it play out as he noticed you and Aiya begin to smile shyly at each other.

The scene was interrupted when the Tsahìk came walking in, it was only now that you noticed her round belly. How did you not notice it earlier?

The Tsahìk’s eyes lock onto yours, and she stepped close to you. “Come, Y/n.” You were shocked at the fact she somehow even knew your name.

But you quickly didn’t care anymore, as you remembered that you were not there when the Olo’eyktan and the Tsahìk were deciding to either let your family stay, or leave.

When you finally get up, you stand next to her, impatient.

“I come to know your name now, but I forget his.” She nudges her chin towards Awpxey. “What is his name?”

Is she playing games with you? Knowing that you want to know whether you were granted Uturu or not. Yet instead she’s asking for your boyfriend’s name.

“Awpxey. His name is Awpxey.” You rush out.

She nodded, humming a quiet “hm” before she ushered him up with her hand.

“Come, let’s go.” Now you were really nervous.

Though you all paused when she turned around and faced the girl that was in the tent.

“Aiya, you come too.” You noticed how the girl’s face was at first shocked, then lit up. Her ears perked and listening as her tail swished lowly behind her.

Now it had to have been fine if she was coming too right?

You tried not to dwell on it too much as you followed the Tsahìk on the walkways, noticing you were walking deeper into the village and through the many maruis that were built over the mangrove roots.

She was leading you to a tent, right? This definitely isn’t the way you came. There’s no way she’s leading you out.

Awpxey noticed the furrow in your brow and had reached to hold your hand, holding it in that way you both found comfortable for the uneven amount of fingers you both had.

Aiya walked behind, her stomach warm as she watched the both of you hold hands.

She wants to hold your hand…

Her eyes widened as she rubbed her forehead, trying to wipe away those thoughts.

It had to be the stress and lack of sleep she has from becoming a healer. Right? Yeah, that’s it.

Suddenly, she stopped right in front of a tent not to far from the edge of the walkways.

The ocean was not too far, and the view looked so beautiful from where you stood.

When you had looked into the tent, before your foot even hit the floor of the inside, your father was rushing towards you.

“Y/n,” his hands came to your cheeks, holding your face and examining you lightly. “You feeling okay?” His tone only held worry as his eyes stayed focus on you.

You nodded with a small smile. “I’m okay dad, swear.”

His eyebrows dropped in relief, a breath exiting his mouth. “I’m sorry for not noticing babygirl, I’m sorry.” You shook your head, grabbing onto one of his hands on your face.

“It’s okay dad, it really is. You’re stressed, I know you are. And this really came out of no where, the sickness. Either way, I feel so much better now, promise.”

With a small smile, you held out your pinky, joining it with your dad. A happy little tradition your father taught you and the rest of your siblings.

Neytiri watched on behind your father with a smile. Watching how you and your father slowly started to get closer emotionally and bond more.

It made her happy, knowing that you want to be with the family more often.

Eywa knows how broken Jake was when you had separated yourself from everyone and everything at the ripe age of 12.

When you walked deeper into the marui, you thought it was beautiful. It was definitely different, something you were not used to.

But you knew that life comes with change. And with change comes adaptions and arranging.

You took a deep breath, looking around smiling at everybody. It was really pretty in here, and the floor felt good against your feet.

Neteyam huffed a small laugh as he walked past you. “I guess Y/n likes it.” You laughed as you bumped his shoulder as he walked by.

When you turned back to the entrance, the Tsahìk and Aiya were gone.

About an hour later, when you all were almost done with placing your belongings down and putting your stuff down to sleep, your dad called a ‘Sully Family Meeting’.

Lo’ak must have known because he was a hair away from successfully leaving the tent before Neteyam chased him out, and pulling him back in.

Kiri had an attitude as Neytiri called her, responding with a moody, “what”. As she sat down.

Tuk kneeled over a covered crate next to Jake, playing with her fingers as she took deep breaths.

After a moment of silence your dad had gotten serious. “I need you kids on your best behavior, I mean it.” He looked through all of you.

“Learn fast, pull your weight.” He looked straight into Lo’ak’s eyes as he said. “Don’t cause trouble, got it.”

Lo’ak responded with a ‘yes sir’ as he knew the demand was targeted towards him.

Neteyam chuckled before he reached over, squeezing the base of Lo’ak’s neck, pulling his hand back when Lo’ak hissed to him.

Lo’ak receiving a side-eye in return.

Though you didn’t pay much attention to that as Tuk spoke up, tears in her eyes as she stated she wanted to go home.

“Aw Tuk.” Your mother looked at her with sorrow, the same sorrow she felt in her heart.

Jake took her hand, holding one of her fingers. “Tuk.. This is our home now.” He paused before a spoke again.

“Now, we’re gonna get through this.” He nodded surely, Neytiri following along also.

“We’re gonna get through this if we have each others backs, alright?” Your mother cut in, adding a quiet, “what does your father always say?”

Hesitantly looking around, waiting for someone else to speak, you all said. “Sully’s stick together.”

Though it was all out of sync..

Your dad nodded, “yeah that’s right Sully’s stick together.” He looked at Neytiri before turning back to look at all of you.

“Now this time with some feeling, yeah?” Within a few seconds you all were repeating the quote, “Sully’s stick together”, a bit louder.

Although it was still out of sync, the effort from the rest of you was present.

Kiri was doing her own thing while she said it though. You could tell that she was feeling really dejected by moving away from the forest. Hell you were too, but you tried to tune your mind to accepting that there was no changing this.

Like your dad said, this is our home now.

As the rest of the day passed, you wondered what nightfall looked like around the village. You stayed around the exit of the marui, watching the sky as it darkened little by little.

Eclipse looked the same as it did from the forest — and that made you smile — though the environment was obviously different.

You wondered if sleeping here would feel more relaxing, since you’ve always heard people fall asleep to the sounds of the ocean. You decided on just not thinking about so you’ll be more patient. You couldn’t wait to see for yourself.

Falling asleep was not easy.

Though the sounds of the ocean moving directly under your new home was nice, it was.. So different.

You weren’t entirely used too it, at all.

You know it’s going to take a while to adapt.

The next morning after a quiet breakfast, the Olo’eyktan and Tsahìk’s son and daughter, Ao’nung and Tsireya came to retrieve you and your siblings to begin training they had a friend with them, you heard his name to be Rotxo.

And you had noticed the pretty healer was with them to, Aiya was her name right?

When you approached the waters edge, the four of them dived in, you and Awpxey looking quickly at each other before diving in next.

When you had opened your eyes under water, you were shocked, entranced at the beauty that was fulfilled in the ocean.

It was beautiful. So beautiful.

You could get used to this, you smiled. Oh definitely.

Awpxey and Aiya quietly stared, looking at you and how your beauty and essence seemed to mix in with the Sea of Pandora.

Looking over at Awpxey, you smiled, a few bubbles coming out your mouth as you reached your hand out to him. He took it happily, and you pulled him down towards the sea floor, deciding on wanting to look closely at the small animals that swam about.

Tsireya watched Aiya look at you and Awpxey attentively before she made a small clicking noise with her mouth, making Aiya turn to her.

Tsireya signed a worried ‘are you okay’ to her, waiting for an answer.

Aiya nodded quickly, signing back ‘I’m okay! Just looking at them, they are so cute together!’ Her face turning to a light shade of purple, though Tsireya only seen it as the waters reflection.

One thing about Aiya, she was good at playing certain things off.

Tsireya nodded happily in agreement before turning around and swimming off to catch up to the other siblings.

Aiya turned to the direction you and Awpxey were before, though she was only met with the sight of coral, a slight frown forming on her face.

That was before she had gotten a plan.

You were ecstatic, the little specimens that passed you and Awpxey every second made you kick your feet harder to swim with them, being careful touching certain things as you don’t know what’s good or what’s bad yet.

Your head turned quickly when you seen a certainly big figure move in your peripheral. You looked closely to see it was hair flowing as someone swam around.

From the outfit you could see it was Aiya, you swam towards her, going to her front to wave happily at her. Awpxey catching up a few minutes later as he was playing with a snail.

Aiya waved to the both of you, a smile on her face as she started moving her hands in a foreign motion.

Was it sign language? This looks a bit different though… You had learned the basics of sign language when you were younger and would visit Hell’s Gate with your father, but that was American Sign Language.

Was she signing in Na’vi? Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you tried to decipher what she was saying.

She seemed to notice your confusion and pointed up to the surface of the water, and made a ‘come’ motion.

You nodded, kicking up to the surface and taking a deep breath as you reached the top.

She popped up next, then Awpxey. Keeping yourself afloat you had asked her, “is that sign language? What you had used while we were under?”

She nodded, “it was! Sorry for just thinking you understand right away.” You shook your head, smiling. “It’s okay, when I was younger I was taught sign language but never in Na’vi, I only know the basic stuff in English.” You giggled.

She laughed too, “I should teach you! Well, if you want me to? It might be useful.” She looked at you, waiting for you to say what you think.

“No, yeah definitely! That would be great!” You agreed immediately. Aiya looked a bit shy as she brought her hand slightly out of the water, pointing lightly behind you to Awpxey. “And him? Does he want to learn too?”

Looking behind yourself, you seen Awpxey staring up at the sky his eyes scrunched from the Sun as you can tell he was looking at the clouds.

You turned back towards her, laughing. “He’s a bit dumb, but I think he’ll like learning.” She smiled, nodding. “Let’s go to those group of rocks over there, there is a few more things you need to learn, like breathing.”

Following her, you had to turn around to bring Awpxey as he stayed looking at the sky, messing with him you pulled his hair, making him gasp as he attempted to chase you.

As Aiya stood on the rocks, she was able to see how quickly you were able to evade Awpxey in the water.

Laughing and out of breath you climbed onto the rock she was standing on, you paused as you seen her hand outstretched, but you grabbed it just in time because when she pulled you up Awpxey appeared right where you were.

Your heart was pumping amd you held your hand over it as you realized where he was. “He almost grabbed me Aiya, you saved me.” She was smiling amd nodding, but her heart felt like it was about to fall through her rib cage.

You were still holding her hand.

The cool water that was dripping from her hair to her body did nothing to cool down her skin that was beginning to grow hot.

When Awpxey was now trying to climb up the rock, she held out her hand again, acting without thinking. She was close to letting out a squeak as Awpxey clapped his hand against hers, the both of them pulling at each other to get him on the rock.

You knew.

You knew you were still holding her hand, and you swung her hand back and forth in yours, letting her know you were fully aware.

“Hey Aiya?” She turned to you, her neck stiff as tried to ignore her hand swinging together with yours. “Yeah Y/n?”

“Can we all swim a bit more? I really like how it looks underwater.” You smile shyly.

“Of course!” She nodded, you don’t have to ask me, let’s go.” You skipped excitedly to the end of the rock, making sure there wasn’t any other ones you looked at the two of them.

“Let’s jump at the same time!” Awpxey nodded quickly, tightening his hold on Aiya’s hand before lining all of you up.

Aiya’s heart was going through an overdrive. What is even happening?

After a quick countdown she was now submerged, which put her back into reality quick. Swimming through the water she found you in front of her, swimming towards the ground again.

She noticed you liked playing with the coral, running your hands over the bumpy edges and following the small fish that swam by.

After swimming around and playing for a bit, there was a clicking noise heard underwater. From what you could decipher it sounded like an animal, so you looked around curiously, expectantly.

The clicking didn’t raise anything for alarms, the clicking sounded sweet, almost as if it were only calling out. Trying to track where it was coming from, you spotted something move underwater,

You squinted your eyes quickly trying to focus, it went behind a big section of coral that wasn’t too far from in front of you, so you swam toward it.

Several seconds passed, and then a creature, almost as resembling as an ikran came from around the corner.

Your eyes widened in excitement as a smile pulled onto your face.

The animal swam towards you, gliding through the water gracefully as it approached you, placing its face close to yours, making you “cheek”-cheek with the still clicking animal.

In this moment you were beyond ecstatic, seeing a sea creature this beautiful approach you so calmly and swim around you as it nuzzled itself into your cheek.

You noticed the animals Tsaheylu pocket and gripped it gently, grabbing your queue from behind your head before you connected them softly.

Tsaheylu underwater was no joke, you almost swallowed gallons of water trying to get used to the familiar though unfamiliar sensation that was passing through your nerves system.

Testing, you gave the soft direction to swim up to the surface, and up you went, put not blazing fast. The animal pulled you at a soft but firm pace, bringing you to the oceans top like you had asked.

As you surfaced, you gasped for air before letting out an excited squeak. Looking around for any signs of Awpxey and Aiya also resurfacing. When they popped out of the water next, they both had huge thrilled smiles.

“Y/n!” They called out at the same time before swimming to you, racing somewhat.

“Guys! Guys! Look it! Look what I got!” The creature you still did not know the name of spun you on its back, letting out its own excited trills of sounds.

“Good job Y/n! The way it approached you so easily, she sensed you!” Aiya subconsciously reached for your hand. “She sensed your kind energy and strong heart.” Aiya rambled with a smile. Awpxey swam up next to the both of you, placing his hand on your knee. “Good job Tìyawn, see? You always claim you are not that special, but here we are!”

You thanked him, looking down at the creature with a shy smile, a blush accompanying your face. “What are they called?” You looked up to Aiya, softly petting the creature’s rough skin.

“They are called Ilu. A common sea animal used by many of the Metkayina for hunting, traveling and such.” You nodded, listening intently.

“They are so beautiful..” You whispered, silently admiring the eye of your Ilu, that was before she squeaked, showing her excitement.

Mid-day was approaching, and swimming for hours on end left you starved. So for lunch you and your family returned to your maruì.

For Aiya though, she thought it as unfortunate that you and Awpxey had to part ways with her.

Was it selfish? Somewhat, right?

She shook the thoughts in her head away as she was telling herself you both had to leave. Obviously to eat and nourish yourself so she can see you.

After you completely inhaled your lunch as you bragged and raved about how you tamed an Ilu, you happily stepped out your new living space.

Squinting your eyes against the Sun, you all walked to the area you agreed to meet Ao’nung and Tsireya at, you didn’t fail to see the way Lo’ak’s slouched shoulders straightened quickly once she came into view.

Hm. You tried to hold in a smile as you looked at the back of his head.

Looks like Lo’ak’s got a crush.

The rest of the day was spent learning how to properly hold your breath, learning more facts about the Ilu you are learning to ride, and information and traditions of the Metkayina.

As eclipse started to approach everyone headed home.

Everyone but you, Aiya, and Awpxey.

All the way until the stars infiltrated the sky, the three of you sat and talked about any and everything.

Maybe adapting won’t be so hard.

Hi everyone! Thank you so much for reading all this!! I did say it was going to be a long one, but I hoped you enjoyed it! Sorry for taking so long to update!! Two months? I’m actually sorry because during those 2 months I have gained many followers and I feel like I’m not doing much! So this is me back in commission!! Also, how do you guys feel about Aiya? How should I continue with her? But anyway! Thank you for reading 🤍!!

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spiral-writing-stuff · 6 months

Note

hi hi! i saw ur requests were open? (sorry if theyre closed)

Can i request a Akutagawa x gender neutral teen reader? (Platonic ofcou) basically reader looks up to Akutagawa and sees him as a older brother figure and akutagawa sees them as a younger sibling :3 can it be angst also? like where one of them is badly hurt and the other is crying and all that jazz

pls and thank you <3

authors note: Don’t worry! If my bio says requests are open then they are! I just take a while to write because there’s a lot of stuff going on in my life, so I’m really sorry this took so long! Im thinking of splitting this into 2-3 parts because I’m still thinking of how to write the rest of the story, I have the plot already in my head but I just need to put it into words. This request is sooo cute big brother akutagawa is just such a great concept:,) Also so sorry if the angst isn’t good lol I’m not very good at writing creative sad stuff! (Please give me feedback!😭) also sorry if it’s too angsty i think I went a little overboard again. I might edit this story later.

Sorry this took so long!

I also couldn’t decide if reader is older or younger than Gin so you guys decide.

I Hope it’s what you wanted!!<3

On a Silver Night

Content/Warnings: angst, gore, blood/injury, abuse/child abuse, death, Dazai being a bastard, lmk if I missed anything

For as long as you can remember, Ryūnosuke was always protecting you and gin, as if you two are the thing he lives for. which you both are at this point He has always tried his hardest to defend you, gin, and the other children from thieves and abusive adults, he didn’t do it to be righteous, nor did he do it to feel better about himself, he just did. At least, that’s what you thought, it was hard deciphering his intent because everything he did, he did with the same, emotionless stare. People would always mention this fact. Even when he was killing, stealing, or when you found some food or someone told a joke, he always had the same blank expression. You thought it was funny sometimes though he never once showed any emotion, that didn’t matter to you, his actions spoke clearer than any words could.

Like when he would sometimes hug you and gin to keep you warm during cold nights, when he found food he would share it with the two of you first. And if anyone dared to threaten or try to hurt any of you they would be dead in an instant by Rashōmon’s sharp fangs. Yes, his facial expressions didn’t matter, he was trying his hardest to keep you and Gin from experiencing the harsh cruelty of the word, but he was still just a boy himself. There wasn’t much a malnourished and frail child could do, yet he persisted, despite how many times he’d fallen. You looked up to him and had a deep respect for him because of this.

Even though it was a horrible situation all of you were living in, you were happy just to be with your older brother, sister and the other children. Among all the other children, You, Gin and Ryūnosuke were the ones you were closest to.

Until that fateful day, when a group of criminals murdered all the other children in cold blood, leaving You and Gin injured, and Ryūnosuke thirsty for blood.

~ ~ ~

Gin had helped Akutagawa escape but you three got separated amidst the chaos and confusion, you held Gin’s hand tightly as you two ran and ran until you two were exhausted, collapsing onto the damp, cold ground. The air was foggy and cold, the night dark while the moon illuminated your surroundings with a silver light. After a few minutes of struggling to catch your breath you got up from the dirty ground and remembered only Gin was with you, Ryūnosuke had ran off in search of the criminals who killed your friends. Fear and panic shot through your body, terrified that Ryū was going to get himself killed.

“G-gin! W-we have to find Ryū!” You said to Gin in a rushed shaky voice. She swiftly nodded.

You two began running, this time slower due to how tired you both were. You were heading in the direction of where the shipment was said to be taking place.

“Gin! I think we’re almost there—“ you stopped when you saw a tall man walking in your direction with a shorter person. The shorter person had a black coat draped over his shoulders, the man seemed to be waking directly to you now, a smile on his face.

“Be careful Gin.. s-stand behind me..” you got in front of Gin just in case, until you realized the shorter person was Ryūnosuke, his eyes were slightly puffy and tearful, he had been crying. your heart dropping at the sight. Immediately you throw yourself at Ryū pulling him away from the mysterious man

“Just who are you and what are you doing with my big brother?!” You frantically yell at the man, hiding Ryū and Gin behind you

The man glares at you with boredom in his face, as if this was all nothing to him, but then he started to smirk slightly “Brother? Oh, I knew Akutagawa had a sister but I didn’t know he had another sibling. What’s your name?” He said with a mischievous face, He reached out his hand to seemingly pat your head but you smacked it away immediately, surprising him a bit “you didn’t answer my question-“ you felt a hand on your shoulder and turned around “Y/n…cough it’s okay..you don’t have to worry..” Ryū weakly said to you. Your heart ached at the sight of his bloodied and bruised face, looking down you can see he has bloody scratches on his knees, arms and legs, his entire body was hurt.

“Hm? Oh, right! Sorry about that! Where are my manners?” He said rather loudly “My name is Dazai Osamu, I just got promoted to a Mafia Executive today, Which means, I now have the authority to do certain things. like taking anyone as my subordinate, and your brother here has accepted my offer.” Dazai said soft-spoken yet somehow overbearing with a kind smile that didn’t reach his eyes. You were confused by the man’s statement, many thoughts ran through your mind;

“Would Ryūnosuke really agree to join the mafia? Especially join through this guy? How would we be guaranteed safety? What if this is just a trap to exploit Ryū’s ability? What if he kills us?”

You were pulled out of your thoughts by a dangerous, slightly condescending soft voice “you don’t have to worry, if i wanted you dead, I would have done so the second I laid eyes on you.” He said to you, it’s as if he read your mind. He was staring into your eyes as you stared back, his eyes void of any emotion, much like your brother’s, except you found a deep cruelness to them, it terrified you.

“Well, it was just gonna be Akutagawa here and his sister, but I can make arrangements, just for you.” His eyes went back to a neutral state “I promise,” he puts his hand on his chest “that the three of you will be fed, clothed, housed and compensated accordingly, as long as you work under me, no one else in the mafia will dare harm you.” Dazai reached his hand out to you, a sweet smile on his face

“so Y/n, do we have a deal?”

~ ~ ~

To be continued.

Notes: it is 5am as I write this, can you believe I’ve been writing and tweaking this since April 7th??!? And this isn’t even that long. What ADHD does to a mf

Honestly I’m not sure if I should continue this, obviously if more people wanna read it than yeah since I have the story already in my head, just need the motivation. So comment and tell me that you want more!!!

Anyways hope y’all enjoyed. Stay hydrated!

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milayawr · 9 months

Text

Stolen Pieces (Part Two)

Nikolai Lantsov x F!Reader

Part One

Summary: Sturmhond gives you your first mission and you find something that catches his interest.

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1,914

Notes: Feedback is always welcomed, lovelies! And I think this will turn into a series, but I'm not sure how long it will be. Sorry if there are any mistakes.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

You were off your mother's debts. It felt like a fever dream or some incredibly perfect written fairytale, but on the contrary, it was very real. First, you thought it would all be gone when you woke up and you'd be living your miserable life but you were assured when you actually woke up to the real world.

This morning you woke up with the sounds of waves crashing on the ship of Sturmhond, Volkvolny. So that was the moment you finally understood that they all really happened, and you were all right, except for the fact that the owner of the ship wanted you to work for him. You didn't know what you were going to do. You asked the Shu girl, Tamar, but she had said that only Sturmhond knew his plans and thoughts. He was a complicated man, and you already knew you would have a hard time with him.

So here you were in his quarters, waiting for him to do something besides observing you. You were preferably waiting for a good speech. He only hummed to himself, and it made you crazy. This man was an unbearable piece of shit that had helped you. You were grateful and all but… Did he really have to be this annoying all the time?

"Am I gonna have to wait for you to say something?" You said when you lost all the little drops of your patience. He stopped humming and looked at you in the eyes. "I can go if you'll keep looking at me like some— Anyways, just talk." You stopped yourself from saying any inappropriate word to him because that would probably cost you to lose a job before earning it.

"Like what, Sweet Y/N?" He asked softly, curiosity living in his voice as he spoke.

You didn't want to say anything but since he asked you just answered. "A pervert."

He frowned as the word left your mouth. "I think I have more honor than a pervert, but that's all right." He left the desk that he'd been leaning on and came closer to you. Every step of his made your heart beat wilder— you could even hear it in your ears. "I was thinking about the job I was going to give you. Asking myself if you could handle it, but I think you can handle it very well."

"I think you should have thought this the night we met." You said and he laughed. His laugh felt like rays of sun after a rainy day, and you could see a rainbow over there when you tried to picture it in your mind. It was a beautiful sound to hear.

"Okay then," He took a deep breath. "I want you to be my spy." You looked at him with a confused face. "What? Everyone has them these days, so why can't I?"

"I never said that you couldn't. I just don't understand why me. You really see a spy in me?" He was just a delusional stupid pirate. Did he really claim he saw a spy in you? He was definitely wrong.

"Well, you stole my money while most of my crew was on the ship, didn't you? Also, you stole many people's money and never got caught. So, yes, Milaya, I saw a spy in you. Maybe not the best, but still, you can be a good choice."

You didn't know what you should give a reaction to, the way he really wanted you to work as his spy or the fact that he called you sweet girl?

You talked when you made a decision, "I was a thief, not a spy."

"Semantics."

"How come?"

"Well, you see, a thief steals money and a spy steals information. Same thing, different handwritings." He smiled to himself as your expression changed into something more relaxed. He was kinda right, you thought. "Look, I hate to do this, but I paid your debts, and you will be twenty without any money to pay to a red-haired bastard. You owe me this position."

He was right again. You owed him and saints you didn't know what to do because being someone's spy scared you in a way you've never felt. It was a tough job to handle, and you were experienceless.

"I'm not sure about being a spy. Don't you have another job for me?" You started to pout as he shook his head. "Then maybe I— I can go?"

"You don't want that. It will cost you another debt. I don't want to force you, but this is not how you negotiate."

You hated him for being right, and you hated yourself for being stupid and asking stupid questions. Just accept it, a sound inside of you said.

You took a deep breath and answered, "Okay, I can be your spy, I guess." He clapped his hands once, and before he had a chance to speak, you opened your mouth to speak again, "But only if I can decide what I am going to do. I won't go on any mission that will probably kill me. That would be foolish for both of us."

Sturmhond looked rather excited by your decision. "You think I would do that to my one and only spy?" He took your hand and give it a small kiss. "We will be a great team Y/N dear." Then he went to his desk and handed you a paper. "This is the guy who promised me some kruge, but I think he's trying to scam me. I want you to go to his place and take some information. Such as his possessions, family, and secret lovers— if there are any. It's very easy."

You read the name of the guy— Jurren Clasen said Sturmhonds perfect handwriting. You've heard him before, you knew he was rich but you also knew not as Pekka Rollins. Maybe there was a moment you had to steal his money, but you could not recall.

"Are you going to threaten him with the information I'll give you?"

"What would you do if I said yes?" He huffed when you gave him a frown. "I'm not gonna threaten him, I am just trying to understand if he ran out of money or just dumped me."

You released a deep breath. "Fine, I'll go tonight?"

He nodded, "Tonight's fine."

"Okay."

"Okay." He mimicked your word as you shoved the paper into your pocket. You didn't say any other word as you head for the door. "Any information that will give his financial situation will do, Milaya."

Again, sweet girl. You rolled your eyes as your heart reacted to the stupid word. "Understood." You said before you left.

You decided to read the note again. There was only his name and address. There were some rumors about Jurren Clasen and Jan Van Eck, the people had claimed that they started to work together in some way. You knew that Jurren was not powerful to be in the Merchant Council, so you thought maybe Jan Van Eck was only using him— If the rumors were true, of course.

You went to the quarters that you shared with Tamar since you had nothing to do, and you didn't know anyone in the crew. You had no one to talk to or spend time with. You just had yourself as always. You knew that you were all alone since your mother died, but it wasn't a problem. People always get used to loneliness until they get sick of it. You weren't sick of it yet, but you were afraid of the day that you will.

It made your stomach turn. The idea of losing the will to live scared you. You had to find a branch to hold on to and erase the thought of a rope to hang yourself to. The will of living was in there, you just had to dive in and rise it to the surface.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

It was deadly dark. It reminded you of the night you met Sturmond. It was practically yesterday, but it felt like it was ages ago.

You found your way as you tried to trust the dark. The outside was cold and it made you shiver. No one was awake as you expected. You only hoped that he was not in his study room.

You felt like a ghost who hides beneath the shadows as you climbed and reached the window of Jurren's study room. Carefully you looked inside, feeling relieved when you saw no one. You opened the window with the little knife you had. You and the knife had a special bond because it was with you the whole time you've been a thief. It was sad that you only trusted the unanimated things.

The moment you were inside the mansion, the time stopped. As quiet as a mouse you started to look for something that would work. He had said any information, so everything was what you were looking for. Just find anything and go.

Quietly you searched inside the drawers. You tried to read every piece of paperwork and his notes. After checking all the documents that you could find you turned your eyes to the desk. You looked into the notebook that lay there. It had plans and arrangements for his works. That should do, you thought. You opened it without giving any harm and started to read it. You understood every word except for one— Jurda Parem. You had no idea what it was but it sounded strange to you. So you noted it on the paper that you brought with you. You would probably forget the word if you didn't.

When you heard voices you hurried up and left everything in their places. You, fortunately, had time to go outside before they got into the study room and unfortunately, you could not see who they were.

The next stop was Volkvolny. You never looked back while you ran. You slowed yourself when you reached the harbor where the ship waited for you. Your breath got stuck in your lung because of the run and you needed air more than anything. The thought of it would've been funny in another moment.

"You're back! Fantastic." You heard his voice when you stepped on the deck. "What did you find out?" You needed to catch your breath so you didn't say anything and gave him the paper. "Jurda Parem? This sounds interesting."

"You know what that is?" You asked.

"Not exactly, but now I will have to do my homework." He checked you for a moment. "Anything else?"

You gave a brief moment to think about everything you've seen. "He has a wife but no children, but I guess you already know that. I don't think he has a secret lover because his diary is full of his wife. He has another house near the University District and his bank is full of kruge according to the documents in his drawers."

"So he did not suddenly become poor. Why does everyone think that I am a fool?" He muttered to himself and you couldn't help but reply,

"Maybe because they think stealing and saying aarg is the only thing that pirates do?"

His expression changed into a frown. "I am a privateer, Milaya. Please don't make me repeat myself."

"Good night, pirate."

You heard him laugh as you walked away. His laugh was indeed beautiful to the ears which listened.

✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧⋄⋆⋅⋆⋄✧

#nikolai lanstov x reader #nikolai lanstov x y/n #nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov imagine #nikolai lantsov fanfiction #grishaverse fanfiction #grishaverse #shadow and bone #sturmhond #sturmhond x reader #fanfiction

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arcaneauthor · 1 year

Note

I love your writing so much, if it wouldn't be too much trouble could do you something where Ghost and the reader get tattoos together

(kinda like the story where the 2 got tattoos for each other without the other knowing but this time they decide to get one together?)

If not thats 100% okay and I hope you have an Amazing day!

Warnings: None? Needles I guess? But it’s not described. Fluffffff

A/n: Sorry this took so long, my motivation has been 📉 lately. But thank you so much for the kind words and amazing request❤️ Hope you like it! Also this is technically a part 3 to my other story but can be read as a standalone.

-$-

“Would you get another one?” He asks suddenly one day as their sitting at the table, a deck of cards in hand.

Yes you know having poker be your date night activity is strange, but your relationship wasn’t exactly anyones definition of “normal” to begin with. But it was your normal. So, yes, sitting at the table on a Friday night with a group of playing cards in one hand and a take out taco in the other was your definition of a good time, sue you.

You look up from your deck at his question, he still hadn’t looked up from his, “What?”

“A tattoo. Would you ever get another one?” He questions, leaning back in his seat, eyes finally connecting to yours.

“I-I mean I’m not- opposed to the idea, if I found the right one.” You’re still not sure of the meaning of this. The question was so sudden

He hums, nodding his head. Eyes gazing back down at his cards, as if they held all the answers.

You raise an eyebrow, “why?” You drawl out.

He shrugs,“Curious.” Is all you get as response before he stands up, throwing his deck down on the table, “I win.” He proclaims in in a baritone voice, then promptly turns to step out of the room. Your eyes following him in total confusion.

They then flick down to his discarded hand.

A royal flush.

That bastard.

Shaking your head slightly, you can’t help but let a fond smirk overtake your face as your ears catch onto the sound of water pittering against the shower floor.

Your boyfriend, the man of many words.

-$-

About a week later.

“Are we there yet?”

Simon sighs in annoyance, the hand not on the steering wheel rubbing his temple, “You’re not bloody five years old, stop asking me that.”

You give him a pouty lip just for show,”But we’ve been driving forever.”

“Twenty minutes. We’ve drove for twenty minutes.”

That short?… really?

“Well how the heck am I supposed to know that, I can’t d*mn well watch the clock now can I?” You question rhetorically as you lightly tug on the blindfold secured around your eyes for emphasis.

He lightly swats your hand away,”Don’t touch it.”

You huff indignantly, but do lower your hand,”Can you at least tell me where we’re going?”

“No.”

“Oh come on.”

Simon huffs, that seems to be a reoccurring thing for him the last twenty minutes, “Impatient little thing.”

You could’ve swore you heard some fondness in that sentence.

-$-

Around, what you assume to be, ten minutes later, you feel Ghost’s truck gently pull to a stop. Slightly jostling the both of you as you hear the gear shift click into park.

You sit up in your seat,”Are we there?”

“Yes.”

“Oh thank gosh. Can I please take this off now?” You point towards the blind fold,”I don’t know how you wear that mask 24/7, this thing is killer.”

“It’s not that bad.” You can hear his seatbelt click and the sound of his old Ford door creaking open.

“Wait! Can I take this thing off or not?”

“Almost.” The truck shifts as he steps out. Giving a slight rock at the absence of Simon’s massive body weight.

The door shutting cuts off any response you had. For a short split second you think he’s left you, until he opens your door. Ever the gentleman.

You unbuckle and twist around, legs hanging out the door. Now how are you going to do this blind? You try wiggling your foot around, but can’t feel anything but air.

“Uh- could you like guide me to-“

You cut yourself off with a squeal as, without a word, you’re swept out of your seat. Simon picking you up in a bridal carry, one hand under your thighs, the other around your back, as you rap your hands around his neck in a panic.

“Simon-!”

“Every girl wants to be treated like a princess at least once, don’t they?” You can physically hear his smirk.

It’s embarrassing how much that made your heart flutter.

“You could at least warn me first!”

“Then I wouldn’t get to hear that cute little squeak.” He gives a deep chuckle

You’d never admit to the extent of redness that your cheeks turned to.

You’d also never admit how much you like the feeling of his large hands gripping tightly to the bare skin of your thighs. The gentle scrape of his calisced fingers being almost therapeutic. For such a large man, his hold is surprisingly gentle, always is when he’s touching you. Never wanting to bring you any semblance of pain.

Even after all this time, his touch never fails to raise your skin into goosebumps.

“Alright,” his words bring you back from your touch induced daze,”We’re here.” He sets you back onto your feet, your hands lingering around his neck a little longer than necessary.

“Allow me.” You feel his hands reach around the back of your head, fiddling with the knot.

The blindfold slips loose easily underneath his skilled fingers.

Your eyelashes flutter open now that the obscurity is out of the way. Though you’re forced to immediately scrunch them back closed as the light floods your corneas, leaving colorful spots dancing across the back of your eyelids. It’s only after a few tries that you can actually see anything then just a bright white. Vision finally clearing, you take in your surroundings, particularly the building with a big neon sign atop it.

It’s-

The tattoo parlor?

You flick your curious eyes from the sign to Ghost. His face, the upper half that’s not obscured by the black surgical mask, almost looks, dare you say, nervous. Well, maybe not fully nervous, but, slightly unsure of himself?

“Wha-what are we doing here exactly?”

“Well-uh- I thought that, maybe we could get tattoos?”

“But-we already have tattoos?” He made the big deal of blindfolding you, and hauling your a** out of the car to,,get more tattoos. You’d accompanied him to this place multiple times, what’s different now?

“I meant like, together?”

It takes your brain an embarrassingly long time to catch on, your period of silence making Simon’s hesitation only grow.

“Ohhhhh, you mean like-like a couples tattoo.” You feel your smile start to grow as you grab his arm, pulling on it in excitement like a kid in a candy store.

Ghost’s hesitation seems to all but disappear in the face of your happiness, his eyes softening as he observed your childish antics.

“Yeah.” He finally responds breathily, before he remembers something,”I’ve gotta’ picture of the stencils if you wanna-“ He reaches towards his back pocket, though your hand over his stops him. He look up into your eyes, which are shining with love and joy.

“I’m sure whatever you have in mind is perfect.” You lean up on your tiptoes to give him a sweet peck on the cheek,”Thank you.”

You could’ve swore you saw his cheeks turn a little pink, though he doesn’t let you observe him for long before he’s clearing his throat, turning his face away.

He offers his hand to you in invitation,”Ready?”

You smile, placing your hand in his,”Yep!”

-$-

You both take turns since Ghost refuses to use any of the other artists besides Jackson. And refuses to let you use anyone else. Says he trusts him the most, with his whole identity thing and to not hurt you.

Simon won’t even let you in the room during his session, saying that he wants to reveal it after they’re both finished. He sits by your side during your tattooing, holding your hand and making sure you don’t look before it’s finished. Even rubs his hand over your arm when you wince, whispering a little “You got this princess” in your ear.

Jackson wipes the remaining ink residue from your lower arm,”Alright, looks like we’re finished!” He begins cleaning up his tools.

You and Simon turn to look at one another.

“You wanna see em’?” He asks.

You give him a deadpan expression,”No, I wanna wait another hour. Of course I wanna see!” You excitedly sit up on the bench

He fondly shakes his head, and when he speaks, you can hear the smile, “Alright, close your’ eyes for a moment.” An order you immediately comply with.

You hear rustling and then a slight ripping sound, which you assume is him tearing the bandage from his own tattoo if Jackson’s chastisements are anything to go by. Chastisements that Simon, of course, answers with a quick “Stop your bloody worrying, it’ll be fine”

You feel him grab your arm, careful around the tender area, and pull it up in front of you, placing it beside of his.

“You can look.”

You eyes flutter open, even though in the dim parlor lights you’re not nearly as blinded as when you removed the blindfold earlier, it still takes a second for shapes to register. When they do, your gaze immediately latches on to the two arms displayed in front of you. Your breath hitches.

“You like em’?” And there’s that unsureness again. Rearing it’s head in the face of your prolonged silence.

You look at him, eyes hesitant to leave Jackson’s masterpieces, “Like them? I love them!”

You basically tackle him in a hug, again, being careful with your arm, and almost fall off the bench from the momentum. Ghost lets out a little huff of amusement as he catch’s your weight with his other arm, “They’re perfect. Thank you.” You lean back enough to look at him.

He bumps his forehead lightly against yours,”Anything for you, sweetheart.”

The endearment makes you heart jump, a soft smile lighting your face. Every single thing this man does, makes you fall farther and farther in the depths of love.

“Can we please cover them now?” Jackson exclaims from the other side of the room, holding up a roll bandages.

You both burst out in giggles.

#simon ghost riley x you #simon riley #simon ghost riley #simon ghost riley x reader #reader insert #imagines #ghost fluff #ghost fanfiction #call of duty #fanfic #ghost call of duty #ghost cod #ghost cod mw2 #ghost simon riley #request #tattoos

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