#instead of always having the answer given to him. in that instance it was the Book of Shadows; but the idea still applies I think | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

bisexualiteaa · 7 days

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Make-Up Sex

Cooper Howard x Fem Reader (SMUT!!)

CW: NSFW MDNI!! Rough sex, riding, Cooper getting tied up, p in v, p0rn w/o plot, irradiated cream pie x2, mention of needles, cursing, established relationship, slight OOC Cooper, slight deviance from show

AN: I’m really enjoying writing for asks! Thank you to those who have submitted any, my ask box is always open so feel free to send in more! I will do my best to get to them as I can, and to the Anon who asked for this one, I hope I did your ask justice! Enjoy our favorite cowboy getting tied up and railed. Save a horse, ride a cowboy y’all. 🤠 apologies if it seems rushed, I wrote it at like 2am and post this on my way to work 😭

Synopsis: Cooper Howard is one stubborn man, and after a while of getting on your nerves, you finally find a way to make him apologize.

He had been getting on your nerves all day. First instance was when you two were out scavenging after finishing a bounty hunt, your supplies were running a bit low after being out for three whole days longer than you’d anticipated. You were getting ready to shoot one of the bandits that managed to get a stray bullet to graze your cheek when he killed them before you could even get a chance. You evil eyed him as he said “ain’t fun havin’ your kills stolen from ya, is it sweetheart?” He asked, making you roll your eyes and give a groan as you sifted through the raider’s pockets for anything useful. No such luck. A whole three bottle caps, and a plastic fork. So you drug your feet as you both carried on towards home.

Second instance was when you both were surprised by some radroaches and radscorpions after opening the door to what looked to be a vacant rest stop to get supplies from. A few wasted bits of ammo later, you make it inside and he made fun of your screams for a whole two hours. “Ain’t afraid of raiders, needles, nothin’ but bugs” he would say as he’d laugh so hard he’d go into a coughing fit while your face burned bright red with anger and embarrassment as he’d use his inhaler.

The third instance was where you drew the line. He was sifting through his bag trying to find his canteen of water after not finding shit at the rest stop. “Motherfucker” he said to himself, upon not being able to find it or anything really to have to drink. So instead of asking, he just went into your bag when you were busy trying to scavenge more bodies, took yours and drank it dry without telling you, and you had at least three more hours on foot until you made it back to the settlement. So when you went to go get a drink of water, the horror and plain rage on your face when you felt that it was empty was immeasurable. “How in the fuck is this thing empty? I JUST filled it yesterday!” You said, turning to look at Cooper as you both walked and the look on his face was all you needed as an answer. “You drank all o’ my water? What ‘n the hell happened to your canteen?” You asked, your southern drawl becoming more evident the angrier you got. “Must’ve forgot it” he said, making you look at him like he just spoke a whole different language. “You forgot it?” you asked, wondering how in the hell the deadliest motherfucker in this wasteland was traveling with you and just forgot his water. “Oh you gotta be shittin’ me….You know what, I don’t even wanna know how you managed that. We’re almost back to the settlement, I’ll refill it when we get there” you said angrily, moving ahead of him a little to prove that he’d pulled the last straw on your patience.

When you made it back to your settlement and back to the place you called home, you organized all the supplies you’d gotten, (which wasn’t much) putting them where they all were supposed to go, refilling canteens of water, and changing into more comfortable clothes as night began to fall. It was around dinner time that Cooper finally noticed that he really managed to piss you off.

You’d hardly ever given Cooper the cold shoulder in the time you two had been together, he was married before so he wasn’t ignorant to what being given the cold shoulder meant, but Cooper Howard was a stubborn man, one set in his ways so when he feels there’s no need to do something, he will not do it. “You gonna sit here ‘n ignore me all night?” He asked, and all you did was cross your arms in response, making him shake his head. “I’ll take that as a yes, but we’ll see how long that lasts, ya always come around somehow” he said arrogantly, only adding fuel to the fire and he knew it, it’s just how he was. He was an asshole, he was when you met him and apparently that charm never fully left. He was partly right however which is what you didn’t want to give him credit for. Even when you were really mad at him, you always came around at some point. His mouth got him into a lot of trouble, but it also managed to get him out of it too, his charisma and smooth talking always landing with some kisses to open you back up or make up sex to help you forget. You never were the kind of girl to let good dick sway you out of being mad but it was attached to a man that cared about you in ways no one else ever did, so you supposed he was at least a good exception. “You’ll come ‘round when that ache sets in, when you realize your dainty lil’ fingers can’t do anything close to what mine do to you” he said by your ear as he stood up from the dining room table, working you up and trying to get you to sleep with him to forget about your anger, but just as he was stubborn, you were just as set in your ways too. Though he knew it was a tough decision for you, you’d both gone a whole two weeks out there in the wastelands collecting caps from bounties and scavenging for supplies without any time or a means to sneak away and be with one another, so you were both pent up and he knew it. It was half the reason for your attitude to begin with, although you supposed he likely knew that too.

You got up from the chair in the kitchen a few minutes after he moved to the bedroom, getting ready for bed. You stopped him as he’d just taken his boots off, finally ready to be on speaking terms again but they were your terms. “Here’s how this is gon’ work. You, are gonna lay on that bed, and let me fuck you like I hate you because right now, I am doing everythin’ in my power not to hate you, and you ain’t been makin’ that an easy feat” you said, your eyes looking straight into his as if you were staring right into his soul, if he still even had one. “Yeah? And what makes you think I’m just gonna let you get away with that, lil’ lady?” He asked in a condescending tone, making you chuckle. “Because I know damn well you’re as pent up as I am, so if you want any, and wanna get back into my good graces, this is how it’s gonna happen. And I will accept that as an apology for the shit you’ve done” you replied as you stepped closer, not caring that you had to look up at him when you spoke, the venom in your words was enough to prove the point you were trying to make. Your response making him huff a short, dry chuckle, impressed by how well you stood your ground, so he awaited your orders. “Now take your damn clothes off” you said, making him grin as he did as he was told, he could get used to you bossing him around like this. Your accent got a little thicker when you were mad, and the way you barked orders and told him what to do with a quip ready for whatever he had to say in response, he had to admit was a side of you he liked seeing more than he’d ever admit to. He shook his duster from his shoulders, then worked at his shirt as you pulled yours off and over your head, then moved to unclasp your bra and dispose of it on the floor, not caring where it went. Your eyes raked each other’s frame with almost visible tension as you stood a few feet apart from each other. Enough space to keep him from using his hands to get you to submit, but enough to also allow you to close the gap when you felt comfortable enough to. You both worked at undoing your pants, tossing them aside to be forgotten about until morning. “Get on the bed” you ordered, leaving the room to grab his rope from his saddlebag in the kitchen. When you returned, he noticed the item in your hands, giving you a wicked grin. “Gonna tie me up, sweetheart?” He asked in that condescending tone, making you chuckle as you tied his hands to the rungs of the bed frame nice and tight. Tight enough to keep him in place, not too tight to hurt too much, he was an asshole sure but he was still your asshole. “Sure am. Gonna need to earn the right back t’ touch me, and you ain’t earned it yet” you replied, straddling his lap as you ground your slick pussy against his cock. He gave a groan at the feel of you, watching as your hips moved against his to coat him in slick for when you’d line him up to your entrance. Key word there was when because you wanted to make this torturous. You moaned as you bucked your hips against him, his head bumping your clit as you used him for your own pleasure. “Think I could use you just like this. Mmm…make myself cum then leave you here achin’ for more” you threatened, running your hands along your figure and toying with your breast to tease him extra, hearing groans leave him each time your pussy would glide along his cock. “Now that ain’t very nice of you” he replied, making you grin. “Never said nothin’ ‘bout playin’ nice sugar. Still waitin’ for you to say you’re sorry” you responded, making him grunt as you continued to play with yourself and moan all sweetly. “I ain’t apologizin’, no need to” he said, making you click your tongue. “A shame, looks like you ain’t cummin’ tonight then” you said, continuing your movements as you got closer and closer to letting that knot snap inside you. He wanted- no he *needed* to feel your gummy walls wrapped around his cock, so the fact that you were using it in a way that couldn’t afford him that, was already working his nerves.

“What’s wrong? Don’t like what I’m givin’ you? Should be thankful I’m even touchin’ you with how mad you made me” you said, going a little quicker now with your movements so he tried focusing on that, focusing on the way your clit would bump that spot right under his tip over and over. So when you came from grinding against it rather than seating on it and *ruined*that chance of still getting to finish, he gave a disgruntled grunt.

“Aww what’s the matter? Did I stop somethin’?” You asked in a deeper, condescending tone that had his dick throbbing in need. He’d never seen this evil of a side of you before, but you had only just started. “Whatchya want Cooper? Go ‘head, tell me” you said, making him grunt. “Want you t’ shut up and ride me already” he said, making you chuckle before landing a harsh slap across his face, the sound of your hand meeting his cheek rang through the room. “You ain’t in the position to be givin’ orders sugar. I thought you had manners” you said as he turned and looked back at you, astonished one by the power behind that smack and two, by the tone you were getting with him. “I’ll ask you one more time, what’dya want me to do to you, hmm?” You asked, and knowing now what power you had behind just one of those smaller hands of yours, he relented. “Ride me, please” he grunted, making you smile and lay a soft kiss to his cheek to try and soothe where you slapped him. “See? Not so bad now is it? Now if ya just apologize, I’ll take some RadAway and let you cum” you said, and judging by the look on his face, you could say that wasn’t going to happen. “Fuck you” he spat, making you chuckle. “Oh I am gonna fuck you, don’t you worry” you said as you lined him up to your entrance, sinking down on him inch by torturous inch. You were having way too much fun with this, and he didn’t like that he couldn’t have his way for a change. His hips involuntarily bucked up to try and shove more of himself into your tight cunt, but you moved to where it wouldn’t happen, making him grip the bed frame where he was tied to. “Someone’s gettin’ antsy, best keep them hips steady if you want this to continue” you said, making him growl under his breath before giving a groan once you were fully seated on him. You gave a moan as his tip nudged the apex to your cervix, moving your hips back and forth to where you would get off, but not do much for him. He gave you an angry look that made you laugh. “What’s the matter honey? Ya asked me to ride you already, it’s what I’m doin’” you said, making him grit his teeth as he did his best to hold his bearings. “But I guess you were good and didn’t move after I warned you so I’ll throw a bone atchya” you said, moving up and down on him, earning a groan from him once more that mingled with the moans falling from your lips. “Fuck…” he breathed, making you chuckle and smirk in that bratty way that he wanted to fuck off your face already, but he couldn’t. Despite his expressions and reactions, he was enjoying this too much but he couldn’t let you know that.

“Mmm, Cooper…” you moaned sweetly as you bounced on his cock, his name sounded heavenly when it fell from your lips, he could hardly get enough of it. He watched as your tits bounced up and down with your movements, the way your thighs jiggled as you moved, god how he wanted to grip them so bad right now. To hold you down and buck up into you until your eyes were rolling back in your head and you were screaming, but this was your show to run. You picked up the pace a little bit, going faster and angling where his tip would brush against that sweet bundle of nerves deep inside. He felt the way your walls started to close around him, sucking him in each time you’d come down, and fluttering around him. You were close. You were so caught up in chasing that feeling that you almost missed what he said. “Fuck- ‘m sorry” he spoke softly, finally apologizing to you. “What was that? I don’t think I quite heard ya there” you said, making him grunt. He should have known that you would milk the shit out of this. “I said I was- fuck- sorry” he repeated, making you hum but it wasn’t enough, not yet. So you stopped. “Sorry for what?” You asked, and he didn’t seem very happy at the fact that you stopped moving all together when he was so close to cumming yet again. “Dammit, wadn’t sayin’ sorry enough? I fuckin’ apologized like you wanted” he snapped, making you slap him across his cheek once more, this one stinging a bit more because it landed in the exact same spot as the last one. Though the tingling sensation of pain never lasted very long, it was enough to make his dick throb while inside of you and he prayed you wouldn’t notice. “Lose the attitude before I hop off and take care of myself then leave you tied up here all night” you said, making him huff in response. “Fine” he replied gruffly through gritted teeth. “Good, now I wanna hear you say it. What are you sorry for?” You asked as you started your pace back up, making him groan again as your hips and ass slapped down against him harshly. “Sorry f’ bein’ an asshole” he grunted out. “And?” You asked, needing just a little bit more before you were satisfied. “And f’ makin’ you mad” he finished, and you were content with that. “Happy?” He asked, making you hum and pretend to contemplate if you were for a minute before finally answering. “Yeah, I’ll take that” you said, placing your hands on his chest as you bounced up and down on him once more, earning a relieved sigh from him. “Just like that sweetheart, fuck…” he groaned before you leaned down, pulling him into the first kiss you’ve shared in a day and a half. You moaned into it as you started to near your peak, finally able to chase it after all the time spent putting it off to deal with his attitude. “Gonna cum- Cooper…!” you moaned into the crook of his neck and that was his undoing. You hid your face into his neck as your walls squeezed him tight, your orgasm washing over you like a tidal wave. Your legs shook as his hips bucked up into you, trying to work the both of you through your high as he pumped you full.

What he wasn’t expecting was you to keep moving, earning an almost pained groan from him as you ground yourself against him. “I never gave you permission to cum inside me” you stated, apparently he wasn’t out of the dog house just yet. He was plotting how he would get you back for this on another day, how he’d wreck you and make you remember just who it is you’re doing this to. You smirked as you had the wonderful idea of giving him a taste of his own medicine. “Perk about it bein’ a minute? I can go all night” you teased as you set that steady pace once more, needing more, needing to feel him after being so long without. His hands gripped the bed posts, white knuckled as he hissed through his teeth from the overstimulation. “You are one evil woman, ya know that?” He asked playfully, making you chuckle. “Don’t act like you don’t fuckin’ love it” you replied, and he certainly couldn’t argue with you there, not when it felt this good. “You can give me one more, can’t you sweetie?” You asked in a sickly sweet tone, using the same line he’d always use on you anytime he’d overstimulate the hell out of you just to see the faces you make and hear your moans. He recognized that line, making him grunt and groan as you moved your hips. “Fuck…” was all he could get out, mind foggy of any thoughts, just how good your walls felt as they massaged his dick. Maybe he should piss you off more often. “Look at those pretty faces, you like this, don’t you?” you asked, making him damn near whimper at your tone and he never does that shit. You gave an evil laugh at the pathetic sound. “Oh you sweet thing, I’m gonna fuckin’ ruin you” you said, leaning down and biting into his shoulder as you picked up the pace a little bit, earning a lewd groan from him. You laved your tongue over the spot, watching it heal instantly before sitting back up, fully seating yourself on him. You reached behind you to cup and fondle his balls, moving your hips back and forth to grind your clit against him to both work you to your end. “C’mon baby, give it to me. I can tell you’re almost there” you said, making him tilt his head back at all the feelings you were giving him, it was too much yet not enough all at once and it was torture. Your free hand came to his cheeks, pulling his head down to face you. “Eyes on me” you ordered, and his eyes looked into yours for a moment before flitting down to where your bodies were connected, giving a groan when he’d see himself disappear and reappear slightly and the way his cum was sticking to your thighs and his lower stomach. “Cooper…” you moaned softly once more, that was almost always your sign, the way you’d sigh his name so deliciously paired with your walls milking him for everything he could give you drove him mad. “Cum with me honey” you pleaded, and felt as his hips bucked up into you three or four times before you both were sent over the edge once more, a cacophony of moans slipping from both of you as he spilled inside of you and you came on his cock.

After laying there for a few minutes, enjoying the peaceful after glow of your orgasms, you sat up, accidentally seating yourself fully on his dick again and he gave a pained groan. “Not again…” he whined, making you laugh as your hands came to the rope binding his wrists. “Relax, I’m just undoin’ ya. I’m mean, but not that mean” you said through giggles. “You okay though? I know I was really rough but I didn’t go too far…did I?” You asked skiddishly, a complete 180 of the attitude you had just moments ago and it made him laugh. “Wasn’t expectin’ it outta you sweetheart but I’d be a damn liar if I said I didn’t like it. I’m alright, you did good” he assured, making you relieved as you laid on top of him, littering his lips, cheeks, neck, shoulder, and chest with kisses as his hands rested on your back and hips. “I love you Coop. Even when ya piss me off, you’re still the only person in this god forsaken wasteland I could ever see myself with” you spoke, making him chuckle. “I love you too, sweetheart. ‘m sorry for makin’ you upset, wasn’t right. But I’d say you did a damn good job of puttin’ me in my place” he said, making you giggle. “No hard feelings?” You asked, looking at him with eyes that held so much worry for one person, eyes that held so much care. His hand came to the back of your head, pulling you into a loving kiss. “Never” he said into it, pressing his forehead against yours after you both parted for air. You gave a contented hum, happy for things to be all right again. “Remind me to piss you off more often, you got a good swing on ya” he said, breaking the peaceful silence with a grin, making you laugh. “Please don’t, I like moments like this so much more. I hate bein’ mad at you, love you too much” you replied, making him kiss the top of your head, wondering what he ever did to deserve someone like you.

“C’mon, let’s get ya cleaned up and get some RadAway in ya, don’t wanna ruin that perfect skin just yet” he said, making you giggle once more but it was cut off by a hiss as he moved you off from his softened dick, grabbing a wet rag and cleaning you both up as he got the IV started. He kissed your head once more, holding your hand like he always did as you got the needle in, got it all hooked up and a good flow going, coming back to sling his arm around you and hold you to him. Between the warmth of his body and the comfort of the bed, you couldn’t help but let your eyes flutter shut, a soft smile resting on your lips as you fell asleep peacefully against him. You always felt safe when you were with him, no matter where you were, and he’d always protect you no matter what. And that, is what love in post apocalypse looked like, he swore it.

#fallout smut #fallout #fallout x reader #cooper howard smut #cooper howard x reader #cooper howard #the ghoul smut #the ghoul x reader #the ghoul

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paperultra · 7 months

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the liminal space.

Pairing: OPLA!Roronoa Zoro x Reader Word Count: 1,575 words Warnings: Swearing, mentions of alcohol use [A/N: written with the cooper!reader from mise en rose in mind. i don't know where in the timeline this occurs, though. lol.]

cingulomania (noun): a strong desire to hold a person in your arms

Living in close quarters can really change how you see a person.

Roronoa Zoro, for instance, had always struck you as rather aloof, having traveled alone for some time before you joined him, and unused to physical affection. He never gave any indication that he was one to enjoy it, and he never sought it out from anyone. That certainly wasn’t odd. You respected his tendency towards personal space, subsequently believing that it extended to his sleeping habits as well.

So when you wake up, hardly able to breathe underneath the hulking mass of a snoring swordsman, you are more surprised than anything.

“Zoro,” you wheeze, patting his back with the hand that isn’t crushed between his chest and yours. Nothing happens, so you swat harder. “Zoro. You’re crushing me.”

His arms squeeze around you as he stirs, inhaling sharply next to your ear. You stop moving as he lifts his head and opens his eyes just wide enough to register you beneath him.

He pauses.

Good morning, sunshine is what you want to say in a cheeky tone. You want to prove that you’re unaffected by the warmth of his body pressing yours into the mattress, the sensation of his breath across your cheekbone and the way his gaze transitions from something bleary into something sharp.

The greeting refuses to leave your mouth. All you can do is blink.

The next thing you know, Zoro’s rolling off of you and out of bed with nary an apology, mumbling something about going to the bathroom.

You hum distantly in response and stare up at the ceiling as he shuffles to the door. Once he closes it behind him, you reach up and fold your hands over your eyes, cheeks hot.

Great.

—

It all started because you and Zoro could only afford a single bed at the inn.

(You use the term “afford” loosely here. The truth of the matter is that you grossly underestimated how much a room would cost, and the owner of the one place willing to lend you a room for half the usual rate demanded physical labor to make up for the rest. Given that Zoro would be spending most of his time hunting down a bounty, the majority of the unpaid labor fell on your shoulders.)

(But you digress.)

The room is small and bare, which is fine, because you and Zoro don’t have much between the two of you anyway. The only problem is that there is only one bed. Zoro had expressed no qualms about sharing so long as you didn’t disturb his sleep, and you had readily agreed, not wanting either of you to sleep on the floor.

After the first morning, you’re not sure if that was a lapse of judgement on your part or not.

Zoro doesn’t mention it at all before he leaves for the day, and you don’t, either. However, when he comes back in the middle of the night and you’re already in bed, squinting and shielding yourself from the bright hallway light as he takes his slippers off and walks in, he sits on the carpet just a few feet away from your side.

“What are you doing?” you ask as he proceeds to lay down.

“Sleeping.”

He closes his eyes and folds his arms behind his head. You frown.

“Why aren’t you sleeping up here?” No answer. You lift your head from your pillow, indignant. “Hey, don’t ignore me! I know you’re still awake.”

“I’ve had a long day,” he grumbles, “so I’d like some quiet so I can sleep. Thanks.”

You huff.

The thought that Zoro might actually be just as embarrassed flits briefly through your mind, but you extinguish it just as quickly. He’s never seemed like the kind of guy to be self-conscious about those kinds of things. A more likely reason is that he’s decided that he wants his own separate space after all and can’t be bothered to kick you off the bed.

So, you kick yourself off instead.

“What are you doing?” The phrase now comes from Zoro as you throw the covers off and grab your pillow, kneeling on the ground beside him. His eyes open and his brow furrows.

“Take the bed. I feel guilty.”

“I don’t want the bed.”

“Everybody wants the bed.” You lie down on the carpet and cross your arms over your chest, stubborn. “I’ve already slept in it. Now it’s your turn.”

“You’re an idiot,” Zoro says.

Neither of you budge.

The next morning, you decide that the first morning was in fact not a fluke, as you awake with your face smushed against his chest and the smell of steel in your nose once again. He’s not on top of you, at least, but the way he clutches you while you’re lying on your side, one ankle hooked over yours, is somehow ten times more mortifying. You wake him up in the midst of untangling yourself and pretend like nothing happened.

Who’s the idiot now? (The answer is both of you. Both of you are idiots.)

—

The third night, you and Zoro flop onto the hard mattress with twin groans, heads spinning and feeling overall miserable.

“That was the shittiest booze I’ve ever had,” Zoro slurs next to you, face down in his pillow.

“But you got a lead, right?” you mumble.

“Yeah …”

You had been there in the bar when he’d gotten that lead, but you can’t remember what it was for the life of you. Another inn? Another bar? Ugh, you’re never drinking there again.

“I’m cold.”

There are blankets on the bed. Unfortunately, getting underneath them would require a lot of moving, and you are physically incapable of exerting yourself that much right now.

You shiver and turn onto your side to curl up. You’ll fall asleep at some point, anyway.

Zoro murmurs your name.

“Hm,” you groan, eyes screwed shut.

He doesn’t say anything in reply. But you hear the mattress squeak, the bedsheets rustle as he shifts closer, and your breath catches when the small distance between you closes. He does not wrap his arms around you, no, but your knees touch, and the heat from his skin melds into yours. You hear his breathing slow to a crawl.

Through your drunken haze breaks through a sudden need to draw him into you, to tuck your face into his neck and keep it there forever. You want – you want. But you’re exhausted, and your head aches, so you find yourself slipping into a deep slumber instead.

He’s already gone when you wake up.

—

A suspiciously lumpy gunnysack in the corner of the room catches your eye once you enter, hand over your mouth to stifle a yawn.

“What’s in the bag?”

“Eight million beri,” Zoro says from his seat on the bed. Cleaning supplies for his swords are strewn around him, and he sheathes the Wado Ichimonji as you close the door. “I ran into another bounty on the way back.”

“Eight mill –” You clear your throat. “Wow. That was pretty lucky.” Eight million beri. Sometimes you wonder if you’ll ever get used to how much bounty hunters can make. (God, that would’ve been more than enough to pay for the room.) “We’re heading out to a marine base tomorrow morning, then?”

“That’s the plan.”

He puts away his supplies, setting them and his swords against the wall near his pillow before standing up to pull down the sheets on his side. You turn off the bedside lamp and do the same, crawling in with a sigh.

The two of you simply lie side-by-side until you decide to break the silence with your big mouth again.

“Am I a burden to you?” you ask.

“No.” The plainness of Zoro’s tone is a small comfort, you suppose. “Why are you asking?”

“Well …” You already regret bringing this topic up as you trail off, biting your bottom lip. “I feel like I haven’t really done much. I mean, I help with navigating and searching crowds and stuff, and I’ve been getting better at fighting, but I can’t help you, you know?” You fiddle with your fingers. “You don’t actually need me.”

There’s a gap between you and Zoro that you’ll likely never be able to close. You had always known that, and so had Zoro; in fact, he had told you at the start that going with him was a bad idea, given your inexperience in bounty hunting and traveling in general. And although you’d like to think that your ability to read a map and fix things convinced him of your usefulness, there are times when you think Zoro regrets bringing you along. Like now.

Zoro grunts, turning to lay on his back. His shoulder nearly lands on your hands, and you draw them to yourself as you wait for his answer.

It is brief and straightforward.

“I’m not forcing you to go with me,” he says. “And if you were a burden, I would’ve told you a long time ago.”

“Oh.”

It is brief and straightforward, and yet, there’s a strange lump in your throat. You swallow it and nod, even though he cannot see you do so.

Nothing more is said. However, as the night goes on, you reach out, and you find him, and Zoro finds you, and the space between your arms fills up with warmth and an unspoken promise. And you sleep very well.

#aesthetic words prompt list #opla #one piece #zoro x reader #roronoa zoro x reader #roronoa zoro #zoro #opla zoro #one piece live action #opla fanfiction #one piece fanfiction #reader insert #'if they're broke how come they don't just sleep in reader's boat ?' you may ask.#and the answer is 'for plot purposes'#sorry if this one is wonky it wasn't cooperating for some reason ;-;#but reader gets to cuddle zoro ! that has to count for something right ?!

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strwbrythoughts · 3 months

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no stopping a man in love | alhaitham

In which the traveler and Paimon catches Alhaitham indulging in something unexpected.

A/N: I might as well make this whole blog dedicated to Alhaitham because man's got my heart in a chokehold :(

Divider by @/osqrie

The House of Daena was filled with the sounds of pages turned over and the quick footsteps of the students flitting from one bookcase to another. Furrowed eyebrows and downturned lips decorated each of their faces. The librarian seemed stressed out to navigate the flurry of students and assist them in finding books. Even a stranger could tell the obvious; examination season was right around the corner.

Alhaitham, the ex-Acting Grand Sage and current Scribe of the Akademiya, had his eyes glued onto his surroundings. Though his expression remained neutral, he couldn't deny the feeling of annoyance building up inside him. The library was way too noisy to be called one. It was a good thing that he was enjoying his read so far. Though, the choice of reading fiction was something that not a lot of people would expect from him.

Yes, he had a book titled "The Genius Falls in Love!" nestled in his hands.

He didn't really catch the eye of anyone. After all, it wasn't weird that the Scribe would spend his day in the library instead of his office. His work hours were long but he never really complied to them. That was something that the students were mighty jealous of. What they didn't know, however, was that his work was always submitted on time with the highest quality. A trait that most of them could only hope to achieve.

Alhaitham put on his noise-cancelling earphones. His eyes relaxed slightly as he could focus better on the book in his hand. He was already on chapter 22. An impressive amount of reading, given that he only received the book that morning.

His body rested fully onto the chair he sat on. He closed his eyes, remembering the sweet smile his wife gave him as she handed him the book.

'Here, honey!' she exclaimed, shoving a book into his hands. 'If you miss me at work, read this book I wrote! And tell me how it went, yeah?'

From the moment he stepped out of their shared house, he flipped the book open. 'Ridiculous,' he thought to himself. 'I always miss you when you're not by my side.'

And so off he went. He finished all the work he deemed urgent enough on that day, before immediately going back to reading. It was quite the comical sight, really. The stoic genius reading a fictional book? A romance, at that? Impossible. Utterly ridiculous.

And yet, here he was.

The work day passed by so quickly when he spent it reading. Before he knew it, the librarian came over to his spot and told him that the library was closing. Alhaitham immediately got up and left to go home.

The walk back was quiet and peaceful enough. The mere sight of his wife's face as she greeted him at the door was enough to make a smile appear on his face, no matter how slight.

"Honey! How was work today? What did you eat during lunch? Did you have time to read my book?" It was expected that his wife would bombard him with questions the moment he came home. However, she was special in every way. For instance, he would always answer each question she had calmly, no matter how frequent or stupid they may be.

"I'm back. Work was completed like usual today. I ate the lunch you prepared for me, and I'm halfway through your book, my dear."

His wife giggled at the thought of her husband taking some time out of his busy day to read her work. What she didn't know was that his day was scheduled around her, and never around anything else.

Until the traveler and Paimon had some interesting news to bring to her.

"Traveler, look! Is Alhaitham reading...a romance?"

Paimon's voice bounced off the walls of the House of Daena. She had successfully captured the eyes of many students, causing the traveler to put their hand over their head. Perhaps to block a headache induced by her lack of realisation that they were in the library.

Paimon's hands flew over her mouth right after the words were uttered. Her eyes seemed apologetic enough, darting over to the traveler as a silent apology. The traveler merely shot her an awkward smile.

It was a good thing that Alhaitham himself did not pay them any mind. The way his ears perked up slightly showed that he indeed heard Paimon, but perhaps chose to ignore them. However, the eyes glued to his person was quite bothersome, even for someone as stoic as him.

He shut the book in his hands quite loudly, hinting his irritation at Paimon. She only gulped and shot a panicked expression at the traveler, who deadpanned at her. The both of them stood still as they heard Alhaitham's footsteps approach them. He was getting closer and closer with each thud of his footsteps.

"I would appreciate if you did not point out whatever business unrelated to you." His voice was calm, just like his expression. His eyes told a different story all together. The traveler's flying companion could only apologise repeatedly, while the traveler shot him an apologetic smile.

After a few seconds of awkward silence between the trio, the Scribe walked away from the both of them. His right hand carried the romance book he was reading quite delicately, as if it was his most precious treasure. And it truly was.

Anything related to his wife was a treasure to him, and he would never forgive himself if he failed to appreciate even the simplest things about her.

"...and that was it! He seemed really annoyed that the Akademiya students were looking at him curiously." Paimon ended her story to Alhaitham's wife. She merely chuckled at the tale.

"Of course he was. He dislikes people getting into his business after all."

"Are you sure he isn't acting like that because he's embarrassed about getting caught reading something so...unexpected, of him?" The traveler furrowed their eyebrows as their companion asked such question with no hesitation. She really needed to learn to read the room sometimes.

Before she could answer, Alhaitham embraced his wife from behind. His eyes were calm, as if having his wife in his arms was all it took to make him feel tranquil.

"Do you really think I'd be reading such book in public if I were to be 'embarrassed' about it? Moreover, how could my lovely wife ever make me feel embarrassed?"

That was more than enough of an answer for the traveler and Paimon. They smiled sweetly at the response. The smiles were short lived, however, as Alhaitham sent them both out of his house, wanting to be alone with his wife.

Ah, well. There's no stopping a man in love, is there?

Thank you for reading! <3

#female reader #alhaitham #al haitham #alhaitham x reader #al haitham x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #berry writes

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14thgalerie · 7 months

Text

tell me why

• pairing: theodore nott x reader

• now playing: dangerous by madison beer

• word count: 3.3k

• genre: angst, fluff (barely)

— based on this request, i hope you like this one even though i'm pretty sure this isn't what you had in mind huhu. i tried to find a way to go about this prompt that isn't all cliche and was written before.

Projects given over the holiday: written and set aside in a matter of six hours.

Every crevice and corner of his room is now spotless.

A game of quidditch with Lorenzo with his siblings.

And that’s the entire list. He has finally run out of things to do, yet the sun remains shining brightly outside. What was supposed to be an uneventful day had turned out to be quite a hectic one. An accidental glance at the desk that sits below the tall windows ruined the extraneous effort he had gone to in order to forget about a certain envelope or rather someone.

An entire day has already passed since his owl dropped by to hand him a single envelope. After taking a glance at the sender, he couldn’t bring himself to open it right at that instance.

In all honesty, he has absolutely no idea as to why he is avoiding opening it; well maybe he does know, and maybe it’s the reason for the dread that kept stirring at the pit of his stomach. The last time he heard from you was at the Hogwarts Express before you completely cut off contact with him.

It’s been an entire week now since the holiday break started, the same amount of time since he received a word from you, something that has never occurred. Your fights had never lasted for longer than necessary— a day would be the worst of it because he despises it whenever people make matters worse for themselves by ignoring one another. But despite his great hatred for it, he doesn’t feel a single thing except for the urgency and desperation that you answer him.

So, he doesn’t understand why you suddenly shut away from him when everything has been going great. One moment you were all snuggled up to him in the compartment you shared with your friends and then not a single word from you from the hundreds of letters he must’ve sent by now.

The sound of knocking pulls him from his thoughts.

“Hey Theo, I left some food for you here if you’re awake. Mom also set aside some medicine if you’re not feeling well, she’s worried for you.” He hears Lorenzo at the door trying to talk to him, unsure if he is even being heard by Theo.

Silence fills the room as Lorenzo leaves, thinking that he’s still asleep. Looking at the yellow ribbon that wraps around the envelope, he reaches out and takes hold of it for the first time since he last dropped it.

Pulling the band with a sense of uneasiness, he sees that it doesn’t have anything special on it, just your name at the front and numbers at the upper left corner. Pulling out the paper— wondering if the little doodles that always accompanied your letter for him would be there, but he is left frowning at the blank edges. Flipping it open, he laughs out loud at the naivety of believing it will be any good before he is choked by the lump that formed in his throat.

Let’s break up, Theo.

I’m a coward to do this over a letter, I know. I won’t blame you if you’re mad at me. I have been constantly depressed at the thought of doing this. In the weeks leading up to when I am writing this, I have been incessantly living vicariously through the memory of us.

I know it’s too much to ask after doing this to you, but please never talk to me again. Don’t ask. I won't be able to explain to you, not when I still don’t understand it and how I’m feeling.

Goodbye.

You wonder if he’ll ask. You wonder if you will ever tell him. How you will explain, how you might run away instead. It’ll be an answer enough to satiate the questions that barrage through the doors of your mind without warning.

Theo was lying in his bed staring unknowingly into space, it had been hard to move when your body is deprived of sustenance; nor food or sleep is enough. So he lays there in the forced darkness from his drawn bed curtains, body more still and cold than a dead body 6 feet underground.

He couldn’t handle another day of hiding behind the old facade of indifference. At first, it was easy. He heeded your wish of keeping his distance even if every atom in his body begged to be near you. Saving the most painful, physical sobbing in his solitude. He was fine just seeing you be there; alive and breathing.

As the days lingered on, however, it wasn’t enough. Not when you have deprived him even of that one simple thing. Disappearing from every class you’re sharing only to find out you have requested to attend another class.

He didn’t have the energy to keep up with that charade anymore. Letting himself wither until he’s only a nutshell of the man you’ve built in the ruins of his past.

He had, in every sense but physical, become a ghost, drifting between the phases of the day without a sense of time. He relies on his day-to-day life by moving on autopilot.

He doesn’t know what he did, he begs to know because he cannot go on another day like this.

“Theodore Nott!”

His attention is called away when he hears a booming voice beside him followed by the bright light that showers over him as the curtain of his canopy is pulled open. Not a care if the man wasting away hours behind it will be mad at her.

Pansy only knew one thing: she would not have her best friend lose every prospect in his life because of both of your lack of communication. She couldn’t give a damn if you will ever manage to resolve your issues. For now, Theo is her priority and he needs to stand up and study.

She had already managed to fix you up enough to have you up and functioning, although a mere ghost on legs. But that will do, now for this man who is at the grunt of your problems.

“Stand up and go to the library.” She pulls the blanket which barely covers him, and throws it someplace. “You are going to fail your NEWTS at this rate.”

“Who cares?” He drawls out. Turning to his side to cower beneath his pillows.

“Your future does.” Knowing that he will never stand at his own will, she gathers every bit of strength in her to pull him by his arms.

“Gods, Pans. Can you just bugger off and leave me alone?”

He tries to wave her off and turns to slide beneath the welcoming arms of his bed. But before his face plants onto the soft, strewn fabric, he is pushed and pushed until they are greeted by the long, grimy corridor outside their common room. His bag full of books was thrown out the door after him. With his lack of energy, all he can do is follow her demand.

Hoping that this will distract him.

Theo trudged towards the library, dragging his feet behind him. Maybe the tranquil ambiance could be a soothing balm for his aching heart. Make him finally focus on other things in his life, knowing that whatever reason you may have, you would never wish that he put his studies on hold.

Theo chose a table tucked away in a quiet corner, where he could fully immerse himself in his books and thoughts. The flickering candle lights atop the wooden tables, weathered by the countless students that passed through Hogwarts, had added a comforting touch to his isolation. Casting dancing shadows on the polished surfaces.

This worked for about an hour and a half until he realised he had forgotten his advanced Potions book in his other bag.

Surrounded by towering bookshelves, Theo began searching for a copy of the book he’s missing and some other texts that might be helpful for his NEWTS classes. As he reached a particular shelf that contained the very books he was looking for, he couldn’t help but overhear snippets of a conversation, the hushed tones barely above a whisper.

“-Theodore?”

He decided to walk away, thinking the conversation private, when his attention was caught by the mention of his name. He wasn’t able to catch the question but he was intrigued.

With a furrowed brow, he furtively strained over the tiny slot in the shelf he pulled a book from to see two familiar faces opposite him, unaware of the person with wide eyes that locked in on one person.

As if on instinct, he dwindles at the sight of you, like a cord being pulled out of its socket, his body going back on autopilot.

He almost slapped himself in the forehead for not recognizing your voice sooner, but he wonders. Why had you appeared so sullen and gaunt? Would it have to do with him since you mentioned him? He leans back on the shelves awaiting to hear more, wondering why you were supposedly that way when you have been acting like nothing had happened between the two of you.

“We’re not together anymore, Luna.” You say in a dejected voice. Seeing it written on paper hurt, but nothing could compare to the anguish that invaded him at hearing it from you, feeling hopeless to the constant sharp pain on his chest that wrenched deeper into the wound.

“Is that why he’s been staying by the Ford Bog recently?” Luna unassumingly asks, curious.

“What?”

“When I come by to feed the Thestrals, he is always there talking to them.” He hears Luna explain. He hadn’t known that Luna had been coming over to see them also. Now that he thinks about it, he remembers that, like him, she had also witnessed her mother’s death.

“Oh.” You must be thinking about what he confessed to you when you found him in a similar situation back in the fourth year.

“You miss him.” From the manner that Luna says it, it was less of a speculation and more of a fact. “I do.” You confess.

This makes him confused. His brows knit together as he tries his best to piece together the words that slipped from you in a way he understands. You had been the one to break off your relationship suddenly, without a word of explanation. But now you sit there, admitting you miss him after you ask him to keep his distance. He is tempted to turn the corner and ask you.

“But you constantly run away from him?” Luna asks for him instead. She follows it up with another question. “You broke up with him, right?”

There was a pregnant pause before he heard your voice again.

“Yes, I was afraid.”

“Of what?”

“I was scared that he would do it sooner or later and I didn’t want to experience the pain of hearing it from him first-hand. So then, I decided that I would do the job for him.” You explain.

He is left stumbling back at the accusation, knowing within himself that it would be the last thing he would do in a million years. Ever, actually. What spurred this idea from you? He finds it incredibly insulting that you would think he would.

Luna asks why you think he’ll do that.

You say after a moment’s pause, “He’s been hanging out with this new friend of his before the holidays, and at first I didn’t care because I trusted him. But she just-” Your breath hitches, “She began to be more flirty and provocative with him and he didn’t even blink an eye.”

You take in a sharp breath. “I know he would never do it, and he probably didn’t even notice but I don’t know…”

His subconscious blocked out any of what followed after that horrid confession. Memories came in sudden assaults on his brain and senses. He doesn’t like how uncertain you sounded: he doesn’t know why you would think twice of his actions.

Truth be told, he did indeed notice the weird affectionate manner in Scarlet’s approach to him. Frankly, he didn’t care and settled to ignore her in order to avoid conflict as she was a friend of Mattheo. Putting her in the back of his mind and that would be the end of it.

He always knew that you had this fear that he would leave you for another, this is provoked more by his terrible past with women before you. But he never thought it would be a problem for your relationship as he constantly did his best to remind you that it was either you or nothing at all.

Though he couldn’t exactly blame you, even now as he sinks into the cold stone ground, he was stupid to think that ignoring Scarlet would suffice.

Sitting on the cold, hard floors with his head in between his hands, digits tightly clutching his hair. He doesn’t hear Luna excusing herself from your session, leaving you to clean up to prepare to leave. Stuck in the confusing labyrinth that his mind wandered off to, he didn’t notice the gentle footsteps near him, trying to avoid the librarian’s wrath.

“Theo?”

Nothing.

“Hello?”

Still not a thing from him. You become concerned.

“Theodore? Are you alright?”

You find yourself forgetting the very promise that you had even asked Theo to uphold— to never approach you. But despite your stern resolve, the sight of Theo sitting in the library corner, his distress palpable, throws it all out. Instead, the nagging fear that if you're the source of his evident turmoil.

“Theo.” You crouch down in front of him, keeping your hands nestled to your lap.

He didn’t even lift his head— you weren’t sure if he was not acknowledging you or that he simply didn’t notice you. You waited several minutes for a response, the silence becoming thick with tension and you couldn’t stand it. Your feet are itching to run.

“I’m sorry.” He finally looks up to meet your eyes and your heart twinged in your chest at his bloodshot eyes, clear evidence that he was not in good condition. You’re confused as to why he’s being like this.

But somewhat you knew. Your heart pounds relentlessly against your chest. You knew what he was going to say.

“What do you mean?”

He shakes his head. Eyes plastered intently on the creaking floorboards. “Scarlet.”

When he speaks it into existence, you dislike the way you flinch, the familiar bitterness spreading throughout your body. Your heart drops into the pits of your stomach.

“I- I’m sorry.” Theo’s voice quivered, his words trembling on the precipice of his emotions. His eyes were becoming blurred by the veil of his tears, bearing a weight that seemed almost unbearable. “Fuck, I’m so so sorry, Y/N.”

The lump in your throat threatened to suffocate you, leaving you on the brink of despair unable to respond properly.

“It’s my fault. I never know when something upsets you. I hardly know you better than how I’m supposed to.” He says it like he means it. Theo says it to himself more than he says it to you.

The world slows down to an adagio, and you’re caught up in the emotion that washes over you at his condition. Theo is rarely dishevelled; he’s hardly all over the place. If anything, he has always been quite proper, the opposite of the man in front of you.

You say his name softly, your gut tightening at the heart-breaking sight in front of you. Hesitating to reach out and hold him close to you. So you reach out to wipe away the lone tear that slides down his face.

“Merlin…I should be the one saying sorry.”

“What?” He finally pulls him together enough to reply to you coherently.

“It’s not you. You’re not the problem.” Your subconscious running at a millimetre per second to come up with the right words to amend his words. Finding this a bit harder than you expected. “I am so broken that my body is just encased in this eternal itch to run.”

“When I saw how you were so unconcerned about Scarlet’s obvious attempts, I panicked. I let that fear get the best of me, letting it poison my mind. I was afraid that one day you’d begin to reciprocate her attraction. Maybe you would have been happier with her. I was terrified of losing you, and when the holidays came, I grabbed the chance to cower back and let it consume me. I didn’t wanna hear you confirm that hellish thought.”

“What changed?” He croaks out. “Why are you telling me all this now?”

“A big part of it comes from my conversations with Mum. I kind of forgot that she never really sides with me when it comes to my irrational decisions and she’s always been the one to make me realise it.” You feel the urge to laugh at the thought, but you restrain yourself.

“And by heaven’s will, I want you to be happy but the need to be your happiness far outweighs that.”

But he does nothing but remain seated silently, nothing in him revealing that he plans to move. And you are terrified, for once you had no idea what was going on inside his head but you know that you had to let him think on his own. To stop assuming and making decisions off of it.

“You, you are a great deal of a headache to me. I have spent days questioning myself; was I so horrible that I couldn't even be granted the decency to be broken up to my face." cried Theo.

“No you weren’t, Theo. I promise you.”

“I know I’m not. Yet, you still made me feel like it. I was happy with you, you were my lone happiness. I think it’ll be awhile before I forget this, despite what you confess.” He says, his voice choking up now and then, in spite of manful efforts to keep it steady.

“Is that true, Theo?”

“But as upset and tired I am, I still love you.” He acquiesced. “It’s laughingly pathetic how I am still entirely yours.”

He stopped short, his hands that rested on his lap emerging to take yours in its grasp. Their grip is a perfect balance of a strong hold and a gentleness.

“And I love you too, I don’t think I ever stopped. I promise you that I’ll work on myself, make things right between us again, because I don’t think I can go on for another day like this.” You said, sworn with a conviction so strong.

He shook his head and to that you feel the disgusting worm that whispers to you appear, “No. We’re gonna do it together, alright?” But it’s crushed under his pretty foot.

“I promised you then that I wouldn’t leave you to face whatever problems you have on your own. When I confessed to you ’I love you’, it meant that I would continuously be by your side to help you with your troubles. Our troubles.” He reminds you. “We’ll fix this together from now on…nobody is doing things solo.”

He tugs on your arms, telling you wordlessly to sit beside him. When you do, by habit and longing, your head moves to rest on the juncture of his neck inhaling the scent you missed most.

Nothing felt better than to have the urge to have your head resting on him be satisfied, he wanted nothing more than to feel something as mundane as this.

As he leaned his head on her temple, you felt giddy, feeling yourself turn tomato red at the action. It was a happy time, in spite of the things that remained to be talked about, so happy that you couldn’t dare to disturb it with anything.

“Y/N…” He breaks the silence.

You hum.

“Did you ever dream about me?”

“I thought about you.”

Only a soft squeeze to your hand serves as a reply.

masterlist

#harry potter #theodore nott #theo nott #theodore nott x reader #theodore nott x y/n #theodore nott x you #theodore nott fluff #theodore nott angst #theodore nott imagine #theodore nott fanfic #theodore nott fanfiction #slytherin #theodore nott oneshot

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destinysbounty · 3 months

Text

A lot of people wonder why Zane's sixth sense became less prominent over time, and a number of theories have been thrown around without the fandom ever really reaching a consensus on the matter. So allow me to throw even more gas on the fire by adding my own speculations into the mix!

Looking at the timeline, Zane's sixth sense began to decline shortly after being rebuilt. Of course he did still experience visions for a short while thereafter - the vision of the titanium dragon being an iconic example of this - but then his premonitions gradually became a scarcity over time, to such a point that Jay straight up didn't believe him when he had that vision in s11.

So why did that happen? To answer that question, we first need to talk about Pixal.

In the season 4 episode "Versus", Pixal states that she is fascinated by Zane's ability to dream, and has "always wondered what that's like." Implying that at this point in the series, she wasn't able to dream.

However, her dream sequence in season 11 "A Cold Goodbye" demonstrates that at some point between s4 and s11, she eventually developed the ability to do so.

(Side note: it makes a a little bit emo how Pixal used to think dreams were an amazing thing that she longed to experience - but when we finally see her doing so, she has a nightmare instead.)

Within the context of canon itself, Pixal's dream in this episode is the only instance throughout the series of a nindroid having a non-prophetic dream.

...or is it?

Let's take a closer look at that dream, shall we? Most importantly, the part where Zane slips from her grasp.

Pixal is holding onto him, but she loses her grip and he falls into some sort of vortex/tunnel of light and cloud. And yes, of course, my Pixane-loving heart is aching at the sight of this - but pay close attention to the appearance of the vortex itself.

Look familiar? No? I'll give you a clue.

Yeah, you're seeing that right. The vortex from Pixal's dream is uncannily similar to the Never Realm portal that opens up at the end of that same episode.

For those of you who haven't seen s11 in a while, allow me to clarify exactly why that's so remarkable: Pixal had this dream before they opened the portal, before they even knew Zane was actually alive. Somehow, within her dreams, Pixal managed to construct a replica of the Never Realm portal without even knowing it existed.

Like, really sit and think on that for a minute. Pixal had a dream in which Zane falls into a strange vortex that just so happens to look like the portal to the Never Realm. Y'know, the same portal Zane got blasted through just an episode prior. Without Pixal herself being aware that this had happened to him.

Do I think it's a coincidence that Pixal's dream just happened to represent Zane's true fate with an eerie level of accuracy - that he hadn't died, but instead been lost in a portal to another realm? You're certainly welcome to think so, but I sure don't.

So here's what I think happened: in season 4, Zane placed Pixal's neural drive into his processor. From that point on until season 7, they effectively shared a brain. Maybe the experience of sharing the same mind for such an extended period of time caused them to inadvertently...share Zane's sixth sense as well . Maybe it slowly began to split between them. Zane's ability would slowly decline over time as portions of it bled into Pixal - while Pixal slowly developed the ability to "dream", unaware of exactly what that ability entailed.

This would explain a number of things:

Why Zane's premonitions become much more scarce from s4 onward.

Why Pixal is suddenly able to have dreams in s11 when she wasn't able to before - and why that dream is so uncannily prophetic.

Why the Scroll reacted to Pixal. Given the fact that it didn't react to Kai, we can assume it doesn't do anything when someone without any kind of power holds it. which suggests that Pixal has some kind of power (be it prophetic or otherwise).

(Of course, that last point is dependent on the validity of certain interpretations of how spinjitzu, forbidden spinjitzu, and elemental power work within canon. And yes, you can rest assured I have theories for that too. But I'm still fine-tuning the kinks to that theory, so don't ask me to explain just yet.)

If this is true, I highly doubt anyone has realized that this premonition-sharing happened at all. Zane probably just assumes his decline in prophetic ability was caused by the spiritual damage he sustained in his fight with the Overlord (which is another viable theory), and Pixal simply assumes that her newfound ability to dream is a result of her developing humanity. Meanwhile the rest of the team is none the wiser.

#im very proud of this theory so if someone like tannerfishies beat me to it then i will CRY #ninjago #zane julien #zane ninjago #pixal borg #pixal ninjago #ns11 #destiny post

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saerins · 5 months

Text

⋆୨ prologue ୧˚ all see through, just like glass

⋆୨ if not for you (masterlist) ⋆୨ next: chapter one - thorns without flowers, bars with no drinks ୧˚

⋆୨ synopsis ୧˚ neither of you want this. both you and sae reluctantly agree to this marriage, although sae’s dissatisfaction far outweighs your own. with hidden agendas and old flames, will this ever work out between the two of you, or will your forced spark be doomed to fail?

ೀ series: sae x f!reader | wc 1.6k | ೀ content warnings: modern au, rich!reader & rich!sae, fluff/angst, swearing, somewhat boys being boys, manipulation/gaslighting, bad parents, yn has a sister here but won’t be mentioned too much !

i. y/n

“Don’t be so overly emotional, sweetheart. Isn’t this absolutely perfect for you?”

“You’re saying no? Can’t believe you’d say that… you know if you don’t do this you’re only damning your little sister instead, right?”

“Sweetie, we are listening to you. But don’t you think we would know what’s best for you? We’re only criticising you because we love you.”

Marriage; a concept you’d been familiar with since young, way back when you had a dream to marry your one and only Prince Charming—someone who’d appear one day and completely sweep you off your feet. Five year olds are silly like that. You’d believe in Prince Charming and fairytale endings and that two people in love would always work things out.

Being the daughter of a very successful businessman, a lot of things were given to you as a child. You never had to ask for toys, or books, or anything at all. Your father would ensure your material needs were well taken care of, and your mother would ensure you’re pampered from head to toe, buying you designer assets and making sure you look the best you can at each instance.

Life in the upper echelon is mostly desirable; the privileges are apparent, the favouritism rampant. You’re grateful for what you have, but there’s a small ball of thought inside you that wishes for your parents not to see you as a product, but as their child. Most of the people you had met had absolutely zero problems with their upbringing, perfectly content with being handed everything on a silver plate.

Most people except Mikage Reo, your best friend since the fourth grade. He hated having his life dictated for him too, and you both found common ground in that. Ever since then, you’d both been close as ever.

“Wait wait wait,” he nearly chokes on his rice, the disbelief in his tone overwhelming, an eyebrow cocked as his fringe falls over his left eye. “Repeat that again.”

A small sigh escapes your lips, your fork poking against the rice in your bowl, any form of appetite you had earlier being sucked out just by revisiting the topic. “It’s an arranged marriage.”

Reo appears unamused, but he restrains himself from commenting too much negativity. “And… what did you say?”

That’s why he’s a good friend—he feels you out first before filtering what he needs to say. He’ll still speak his mind, but depending on your decision, he’ll choose his words carefully.

You’ve always been eternally grateful for his presence. It calms you down, that sense of comfort irreplaceable. You know that if you ever really screw anything up that bad, you’ll have him—and really, that’s enough for you. Out of everything you have, you think this friendship’s probably the most precious one.

“The wedding’s in a couple months,” you half-answer, deciding to stop playing with your food and putting your fork down. The clang of the metal hitting the marble-top table is the last sound you hear for a while before Reo clears his throat.

Before Reo can get any words out, you interject. “The guy said yes too, apparently.”

Now he chokes on his rice.

You slide the glass of water across the table and Reo chugs it down, water trickling down the sides of his lips at his urgency. “How the fuck did your parents get Itoshi Sae of all people to say yes?”

Itoshi Sae. The name of your to-be husband. You know him as much as what you can search online. Twenty-five this year. No hobbies but it’s rumoured he’s good in soccer. He’s a lot like you when it comes to status and standing in the business world—the kid of successful self-made parents who everyone in your immediate circle automatically expects good things from. The pressure to perform and become someone of note since birth is probably something you both share. Except, maybe, Itoshi Sae looks like he’s a lot less obedient than you are. He looks like he’s more rebellious than not, and that’s why you wonder if he has any hidden agendas by agreeing to this business arrangement.

You know why you’re agreeing.

“Seriously, we raised this child and yet she’s so ungrateful!”

“Y/N, you know if you don’t do this then he’s just going to force this on your little sister, right?”

How can you let that slide as a big sister? Especially when your little sister is perfectly happy in a long-term relationship? Unfortunately, threatening their children isn’t below your parents.

Even when you revisit the conversation in your head, your mother’s faux concern is nauseating. She’s always been that way; everything your father says goes and she doesn’t offer much else other than what he expects of her. Maybe that’s why you grew up to be this way.

Shrugging, you turn your attention back to Reo, a small pout forming on your lips. “You know my dad. He’s always been good at talking.”

“What about you though? Are you really okay with this?”

At this point, Reo’s the only one who’s genuinely concerned for you. Maybe because he knows about all your childish dreams about finding The One. While you appreciate his concern, you brush it off.

“Yeah, I mean, how bad could things possibly get with Sae?”

Reo’s eyebrows show he’s not convinced, but he doesn’t say more.

“I’ll be fine, Reo, promise.”

You’ll just have to win Itoshi Sae over. Even if it’s hard, you’re determined to try and make the most of it. It won’t be that bad if you work hard on it… right?

ii. itoshi sae

“Either do this, or I’ll get Rin instead. It’ll be a pain, but don’t think I won’t do it.”

“Honey! Stop speaking like that… Sae, please try to understand, this will be a huge opportunity. It’s the least you owe us, hm?”

“You lost your shot, do you want Rin to lose his too?”

“If you don’t want her, I'll take her.”

“Go ahead.”

Sae’s completely tuned out of the conversation, the thoughts of his upcoming wedding filling his head. Now that everything’s settled between yours and his parents, it’s really kicking in that fuck, did he really let them dictate his love life like that?

“She’s pretty hot, though. I think she’s just a year younger than you?” Oliver’s scrolling through your Instagram—typical behaviour from his end. The moment Sae told them your name, it took only half a minute for Oliver and Otoya to find your online presence.

L/N Y/N. He’s always heard of you. Your name constantly leaves his parents’ mouths, ever since he was a kid. Apparently, your parents and his have been tight since high school. Sae is sceptical about the relationship, though. Nothing is ever that plain and simple between rich families. There must be a reason Sae’s never personally seen you, after all, despite his parents claiming to have a good relationship with yours.

“What the fuck’s going through their heads?”

And by that, Sae assumes that Otoya means his parents. If that’s the case, Sae has long decided he’s given up trying to understand what goes on in their heads—but if he had to guess, it’s probably all because of a simple business deal.

Having their kids wed each other would mean that one of them is absorbing the other. A little side knowledge that Sae doesn’t care for, so he only shrugs in response.

“Aw, little Sae is growing up,” Oliver sneers, earning a snicker from Otoya and a middle finger from Sae himself.

Otoya eggs him on, adding to the fire. “Yeah, to think that the guy who only ever dated once in his whole fucking life is the one getting married first,” he comments, eyes gazing to the side in deep thought, “what was her name again? Mirin?”

“Oh fuck, yeah I forgot about her,” Oliver exclaims, smirking at Sae. “First love type shit, right?”

Sae rolls his eyes, ignoring him, forcing him to change the subject.

“Shit, didn’t think you were the kind to ever say yes though,” Oliver remarks, eyes still glued onto the screen, likely still scrolling through your posts.

Oliver’s standards are quite high. Are you really that pretty? Sae’s never actually seen what you look like.

“I’m not fucking marrying her. I don’t even know her.”

“Maybe we should just pull Rin out then, get him to come back here and handle all this.”

“Sae, be a good boy and listen to us, okay? How about this—if it ever gets too bad, we’ll look into a divorce in the future, hm?”

As if he believes that. His parents are insufferable. There’s no point in ranting to this group though, so Sae brushes it off.

“Not like I care about this marriage shit,” he leans back, an air of nonchalance around him. “I’ll just shut my parents up and wait for the right time to leave.”

Otoya scoffs, smirking. “Lucky girl.” Sarcasm is his forté.

Oliver laughs, finally putting his phone down. “Okay you do that, and then I’ll pop up and be her Prince Charming and sweep her off her feet.”

Sae inwardly sighs to himself. His friends are insufferable as well, though he’d argue whether that’s the correct term for them. They’re only a group because their families happened to meet often. Somehow, Sae had been dragged into this weird association one day, and the rest is history.

“Do whatever the fuck you want.”

The rest of the night, Sae drowns out their conversation, choosing to ignore whatever shit they’re talking about. In his head, he’s only thinking about how long it’ll take before he can safely absolve himself from you without his parents threatening his younger brother’s career. More importantly, he’s wondering how the fuck he’s going to tell you he’s thinking of a divorce even before you get married.

Surely, you don’t really expect anything to come out of this either, do you?

If you do, you’ve got a rude awakening coming.

taglist: @kimvmarvel @mxplesyrvp @yuzurins @futuristicxie @kiopanxp @k0z3me @y-sabell-a @sae1toshilover

#itoshi sae x reader #sae x reader #blue lock x reader #bllk x reader #sae x you #sae x y/n #bllk x you #bllk x y/n #blue lock x you #blue lock x y/n #bllk itoshi sae #itoshi sae #૪ aeri’s fics !

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writing-for-marvel · 8 months

Text

Blunt Force Trauma

[He’s Hazardous To My Health Series]

Paramedic!Bucky Barnes x Resident!Fem!Reader

< < PART 6 | Series Masterlist | PART 8 > >

Summary: While out for an unusual date night, Bucky and you witness an emergency.

Warnings: strictly 18+, car accident in which cars plough into storefronts (not involving reader or Bucky), multiple injuries including the drivers of the cars, someone trapped under a car having trouble breathing, description of lacerations, blood, no casualties, Bucky doubting himself and being insecure, discussion of money/disparity in wages, John Walker because he is always a warning

Word count: 3.4k

A/N: a BIG thank you to @skittle479 who gave me the inspiration for this part, I hope I did your idea justice darling ❤️ I apologise if this is a little rusty, I haven’t been writing consistently for a little while. Banners by @vase-of-lilies

Main Masterlist | Ask me anything! | Taglist | Library

Bucky usually feels adept and influential sitting in the front seat of an ambulance, uniform proudly donned with the badge above his heart, perched higher than most of the traffic and capable of speeding past with sirens blaring whenever required.

But when John Walker sits beside him in the driver's seat, all he feels is agitation.

“You got any plans this weekend?” His annoyingly snarky voice fills the otherwise silent cabin as they pull up to a red light.

“Yeah, I’m taking my girlfriend to see the new Barbie movie on our mutual day off. And then probably just grab some food afterwards.” Bucky tries keeping his answer short and to the point, not wishing to divulge any more information than he needs to fundamentally answer the question without being rude, nor the giddy fluttering of his heart at referring to you as his girlfriend.

Not only does John Walker have a reputation of doing a rushed job in the field, with somehow thinking his skills are far superior to anyone else in the force, but he is also too nosy for his own good and incapable of keeping topics discussed in confidence to himself.

Steve’s learnt that lesson a few times.

“Dinner and a movie?” The inflection of John’s voice makes it seem like a query, but it’s muttered under his breath in what Bucky would classify as an almost disgusted tone.

“Is there something wrong with that?”

“Just that… she’s a doctor right?” The intonation of John’s question has doubt settling like led in the pit of Bucky’s stomach. That there is inherently something erroneous about a paramedic like him being with a doctor like you.

“Yes.” He confirms without questioning how John even knows that information given Bucky has never mentioned directly to him who you are or what you do for a living.

“Well don’t you think she’ll be after something a little more… upmarket than dinner and a movie? She’ll be friends with other doctors and surgeons at the hospital, they’ll be able to afford fancy dinners in the best part of town, seeing expensive shows, musicals, operas that cost a hell of a lot more than seeing a movie. Girls wanna be treated like princesses, not some commoner.”

Bucky’s heart drops. He specifically remembers you telling him about how for every date night Wanda and her new boyfriend, an anaesthesiologist, try out another lavishly expensive restaurant in the richest part of the city.

Was that you dropping hints that’s where you wanted him to take you for date night? Is he greatly disappointing you by instead taking you on such a generic date?

He hates to let anything John tells him get under his skin, but maybe he has a good point in this instance…

Of course you deserve far better than something so plain, but Bucky doesn’t have the savings to be able to take you to Michelin star restaurants that charge exorbitant prices for such small servings.

But if he doesn’t do this, at least once, will it be the reason you leave him? Will you want someone who earns more money than he does and can spoil you like the queen you are. He has no experience in this area, no real idea about what it takes to keep a partner happy in a relationship, and he knows John is, at least from the outside, happily married.

“I guess I could try something more upmarket.” Bucky suggests, though he’s not thoroughly convinced. You’ve never once expressed this is something you want, but perhaps it’s one of those parts of a relationship you want the other to take control of without needing to convey out loud. That directly telling him defeats the purpose all together.

He supposes that once you’ve spent a couple months with someone you need to shake things up to keep it interesting. Besides his bank account, there really is no downside to treating you both to an extravagant night out.

“I’m telling you man, you won’t regret it.”

They continue on with their shift in complete silence, Bucky’s mind churning with gears of insecurity and reservation.

He loves you and he sure as hell doesn’t want to fuck this up before he finally gains the courage to tell you.

* * *

“Can’t you give me a hint of where we’re going?”

Bucky’s fingers are interlocked with yours as you casually stroll down the sidewalk. You’re in a much fancier part of town than you’ve ever been to together before, and all of a sudden the informal pink dress you chose to wear to the earlier showing of Barbie Bucky treated you to makes you feel underdressed and completely out of place.

“We’re almost there, but I want it to be a surprise!” Bucky kisses the back of your intertwined hand, but you sense from the stiffness in his broad shoulders that even though he’s by your side, he doesn’t quite feel comfortable here either.

It’s only a short walk before Bucky stops outside a sleek restaurant where a group of smartly dressed patrons are queuing for entry. The waiters are dressed in black pants, white shirts with bow ties, and velvet vests - which gives away how high end the place is before you even have a chance to glance at the prices on the menus.

“I’m sorry I can’t take you anywhere fancier, I know Wanda and Vis keep trying all these upmarket restaurants…” His intentions for taking you to this part of town become as apparent as a lightbulb turning on in pitch darkness.

You place a delicate hand on his cheek to direct his uncertain gaze to your own. He looks like a nervous puppy.

“Bucky, it isn’t how expensive the restaurant is, it’s the fact that we’re together that’s important. You could take me to McDonalds and I wouldn’t care because I’d be with you.” You emphasise the end of your sentence, wiping your thumb across his cheek affectionately as his eyes brim with both hesitation and tenderness.

“Are you sure? Is this one of the things girls say but they actually mean the opposite?”

There have been a few fleeting occasions in your relationship with Bucky where you’ve seen glimpses of an inexperienced, naive and slightly insecure man who is navigating his first long term relationship. This is one of those moments and all you want is to eliminate all wavering doubt swirling in his mind.

It’s honestly endearing how sweet he is. You’re sure the only reason he is anxious is because he cares so much.

“Bucky, who’s gotten into your head?” You ask, shaking your own. You’re sure neither his best friend nor his mother is responsible for this line of thinking. “I promise you, I don’t need you to spend an entire paycheck on a single dinner at a restaurant where I can’t tell the difference between their cheapest and most expensive bottles of wine. And remember I’m only a couple years out of med school, I’m still drowning in years of student loans. All I care about is spending time with you.”

“You really mean that? You’re not just saying that to be nice cause I can’t afford pricey places like the anaesthesiologists and surgeons at the hospital can.” Your heart drops below your stomach. The concept that Bucky thinks you would ever want anyone other than him, simply because they happen to make more money, has the centre of your chest aching and makes the corners of your eyes prickle with tears.

“James, I care about you so much.” You declare, standing on your tiptoes and kissing him gently. “And that has absolutely nothing to do with the number that’s written on the bottom of your paycheck. One of the reasons I initially fell for you was seeing how you interacted with Sasha in the ER - no anaesthesiologist or surgeon I know has shown that kind of rapport with a patient.”

The smile tugging at the corners of his mouth abates the sting punching your chest.

“Really?”

“Mhmm. You’re one of a kind baby. Please don’t you ever doubt that you are the one for me.” You affirm as you thread your arms around his waist, placing a delicate kiss on the underside of his jaw.

There are tears in Bucky’s eyes he’s trying, and failing, to conceal. He looks in absolute disbelief, but as he gazes down at you, you could so easily be fooled into believing there is also so much love in his eyes.

“You are-, I am so-” You wait in anxious anticipation as he stutters.

Is this it?

Is Bucky finally about to say those three magical words you have been dying to hear for the past few weeks? That overwhelming feeling of pure love and adoration you feel for him and so desperately wish he reciprocates.

But before he is able to finish his sentence, you hear a vehicle’s tyres skidding along asphalt and two consecutive, deafening crashes sound close by, startling you.

You feel the ground shake violently and Bucky’s arms instinctively fly around your head and pull you into his chest in what you can only assume is an attempt to protect you from flying debris.

Before your mind can comprehend what on earth just happened and even look towards the origin of the booming impact, Bucky’s set off at a sprint, launching himself directly into action.

Once your brain is able to catch up to what your eyes are seeing - two cars, who potentially swerved to miss each other, ploughed through the shopfronts of two different restaurants only a couple stores away from where you are standing - you feel a surge of adrenaline in your chest and you begin a chase after Bucky, the screams of onlookers the soundtrack as you assess the scene.

You’ve seen some horrible and gory injuries during your time as an emergency medicine resident, but you’ve never seen it as raw and gruesome as you do right now in the field for the first time. It’s dedicated paramedics and EMTs like Bucky who do the initial triage, treatment and transport so that the patient arrives at the ER in the best possible condition. Seeing the carnage here, is confronting.

When you reach the incident, wails of pain fill the air, shattered glass covers the concrete ground and panic clenches tightly in your stomach. You first notice the driver of the car, dazed at the wheel, the airbag having cushioned his impact.

“You!” Calling out to a young man seemingly unharmed but immobilised with fear, you point to him and continue. “Call an ambulance.”

Seeing him fumble to pull his phone out of his pocket, your attention switches back to the inside of the car.

“Sir, try not to move. You’ve been in an accident.” You advise as your hands fly out to keep the man inside the car, groaning in pain as he turns to exit the vehicle. Reaching across him, careful not to move his position or cause him any pain, you put on the handbrake, shift the car into park and remove the keys from the ignition. “I’m a doctor, please try to keep your neck still.”

You do a quick assessment, his breathing is quick and shallow, but most of his impact seems to have been absorbed by the airbag. He has no signs of external bleeding, though you are concerned about internal bleeding as well as whiplash and other head and neck injuries.

“Can you help me?” You ask the man who you had instructed to call an ambulance. He rushes over despite his hesitation earlier. “I need you to keep this man’s head still, hand on either side of his face, just like this, making sure he doesn’t twist his neck. Keep him awake and talking, and scream out to me if he loses consciousness.”

In the chaos and mayhem of the scene you’ve lost sight of Bucky. He’s no doubt somewhere close by providing medical assistance, probably at the other restaurant doing exactly what you are here.

Inside the restaurant the air smells of engine fuel, powdered plaster and metallic blood. It’s encouraging to see those that are unharmed lend assistance to those injured and in pain.

Your eye catches a lady in a blue pantsuit lying on the ground, back against an overturned table, face contorting in excruciating pain as she grips both hands onto her trembling leg. Her suit has ripped open and you can see a long laceration through the muscle of her thigh weeping blood. A man beside her has a look of pure terror in his eye, wavering hands unsure of what to do in this situation.

“Wrap a tourniquet around her leg above the laceration, as tight as you can!” You direct as you notice a patient out of the corner of your eye, closer to the car in far greater need of your assistance, your heart squeezing in terror and the pool of blood growing slowly bigger each second before you get to him. When you see her friend's mouth open in question you continue. “Your jacket, the tablecloth, anything you can tie tightly!”

Rushing over to the underside of the front of the car, you observe a young man in a waiter's uniform trapped between the car, ground and the rubble of the shopfront displaced by the force of the car. Your hands fly to apply pressure on his chest wound, the source of the pool of blood surrounding him.

“Help me.” He wheezes, his eyes dilated, alarmed in a life threatening way you’re unfortunately used to seeing having worked in emergency medicine.

“I’m a doctor and I’m here to help. I know you're in pain but I have to put pressure to quell the bleeding. Try taking a deep breath for me.” He tries to do as you request but all he is capable of is panting in short, shallow breaths. The already terrified young man starts hyperventilating when he realises that he can’t use the full capacity of his lungs.

“What’s your name?” You ask, feigning a calm smile, trying to distract him in any way you can from his current predicament.

“Noah.” He can barely get the sound out, and you intuitively press down harder on his chest, feeling warm liquid trickle through your fingers.

“Noah, I am going to get you out of here. Just hang on for me.” You look around at the resources available to you, stomach churning knowing there’s nothing within reach which can assist.

Your gaze rises to those who still remain in the restaurant, but everyone else is tending to other victims, until a familiar face rushes into view.

“Bucky!” You call out and his eyes instantly meet yours, concern flooding out of those baby blues as he swivels to the sound of your voice. Having him beside you brings a buoyant relief to your chest, despite the gravity of the situation. “We need to get the car off him. He can’t breathe.”

As if Bucky hadn’t heard you, he rushes out of the restaurant. Fear replaces any alleviation you felt, believing you are now truly alone to do what you can for Noah.

You can’t lift a car by yourself.

Especially considering you’ve also got to keep pressure on his seeping wound to ensure he doesn’t bleed out in front of your eyes.

You don’t want to feel completely hopeless with this young man’s life literally in your hands. But unless you get some help soon, you know he doesn’t stand a chance.

“Paramedics will be here soon. Just hang on for me. Keep your eyes open. I’m sure you have someone in this world you love - your mom, dad, maybe a partner, your best friend. They’ll want you to fight so you can see them again. I know it hurts but you stay with me. You got someone in mind?” He nods in response to your question, a ghost of a smile appearing on his features and you know unequivocally this boy has experienced some form of love.

You think of Bucky, that if you were in a life threatening situation, he’d be the one you fought to stay alive for. To tell him you love him. To kiss him again, to hold him in your arms and revel in the solace he provides you.

Out of nowhere, as if your imagination of him conjured him next to you, Bucky appears by your side, sweat mixed with dirt on his forehead. He flashes you his signature smirk as he places a scissor car jack beneath the rocker panel near the front tyre.

He’s an absolute genius.

How did you ever doubt him?

Bucky carefully, yet quickly, starts turning the handle and jacking up the car. You immediately see the alleviation on Noah’s face as he takes a slightly deeper breath, but in turn you need to apply even more pressure to his wound, the force of the car on him having previously done part of your job for you.

“We need to move him, in case the jack slips.”

Bucky steadies Noah’s head as you both manoeuvre him away from under the car by placing a detached, flat tabletop beneath his back. As you perform the action, you hear sirens approaching.

Help has arrived.

“Bucky, I wasn’t expecting to see you here.” It’s Steve’s voice behind you, and you sigh in relief at seeing Bucky’s best friend on scene.

“He was trapped under the car, a penetrating wound to the abdomen, crushing injuries to the chest, and a potential pneumothorax. Breathing is shallow and his pulse is weak.” You list off, maintaining pressure on Noah’s abdomen as Bucky, Steve and the other paramedic you’ve seen around the ER shift him onto a yellow spinal board.

You refuse to move from your position as they load Noah into the ambulance, knowing releasing your pressure even for a moment could result in catastrophic blood loss.

Bucky hops into the back of the ambulance behind you, placing a small kiss to the back of your shoulder when Steve isn’t looking. You flash him a sweet smile that makes his stomach somersault and forget for a moment that he’s in an ambulance on his day off.

“Bucky, not in front of a patient.” You bashfully protest, but he just can’t help himself. His chest burst with pride at seeing how natural you were out in the field, saving lives even on your day off.

“Y’all probably saved my life, you can do whatever you want.” The young man mutters breathlessly with a smile.

Though Bucky wants to kiss your shoulder again, you made a point of not wanting him to do so in this scenario, so he refrains. He’ll just wait until you’re alone tonight to show his awe of you, and maybe find the courage to finally tell you he loves you as he was attempting to outside of the restaurant before the incident.

Once inside the hospital, the additional staff ensure Noah can be transferred safely, Steve having radioed ahead so they could prepare for the severity of his injuries. Wanda is one of the faces who assist with the handover, starting a blood transfusion right away before Noah is whisked away towards the surgical wing.

“They’ve got it from here guys, thanks to you Noah should be okay after a fairly routine surgery. Go enjoy the rest of your date.” Wanda comments as she not so subtly shoots you a quick wink. It’s only then, when Bucky realises both your jobs are finally complete, does he recognise he is indeed exhausted.

You turn to him and flash an equally tired smile, which, even in the face of how your night ended up, makes him feel like he’s floating on a cloud.

“Let’s go home, yeah? I’m beat and have to be back here in like 9 hours.” You chuckle and the sound is music to Bucky's ears. He swears that sound alone sustains him.

How did he get so lucky?

“Yeah… home.” Bucky murmurs, placing a kiss to your hairline which Wanda notices out of the corner of her eye with a smile.

You don’t clarify where home is. Your place? His place? You simply take his hand in your own and walk out of the hospital. But it doesn’t matter where you’re going, because to Bucky, home is wherever you are.

Part 8 > >

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cryptcoop · 4 months

Note

id love to hear what are some of your personal headcanons for moira and niran if they did ever get in a relationship

I will finally answer this ask with a few of my moiraweaver thoughts

For starters, I think they are playing a very dangerous game. Moira doesn't leave Iraq much, Oasis even more so. So they are usually together there. Oasis has incredible security.. they know when Niran is there, pretty much the instance he steps foot within the university. However, Moira, being minister, holds a lot of power within Oasis, and therefore is granted a lot of leeway.. but not that much. The only thing stopping Talon/Oasis from stopping their get togethers is the fact that it's hard to completely erase the existence of and replace the Minister of Genetics without a few heads turning. They aren't playing it safe either. She brings him to galas touting him around on her arm, outwardly affectionate towards each other, an act of defiance towards Talon. It wont last for long.

I think Moira is a very touch averse person, and Niran is very respectful of that. However she is usually quite comfortable with his touch. He'll usually test the waters, fingertips on her upper back, a light bump of their shoulders together, and if she doesn't bristle to the touch he will be more confident. He has very warm hands and I like to think it's comforting on her body.

I see Niran as a man and Moira as a woman, but they are both definitely playing outside of their roles often. I see Moira as more of the "man" of the relationship, especially outwardly, but they hold equal power within their relationship. To me they are two queer people having fun, they are definitely not a straight couple.

Given that Niran is often on the run, he travels quite a lot. He will send her little gifts from the places he visits and write cards. He often asks Sombra to deliver his packages to her to keep it discreet.

I like to think that Niran can grow a little bit of facial hair (He is typically a very well kept man when he can be ((he waxes/plucks)) but it can be difficult when you're an active vigilante) and if he returns after being gone for an especially long time, Moira cannot kiss him unless he's clean shaven. She can't stand the feeling of facial hair. Sometimes she will pluck/wax/shave him herself, a little indulgent thing for her. They will do each others makeup as well from time to time.

I think in the same sense that Niran will use his healing touch to soothe Moira's ailments I think Moira will also, on occasion, use her biotic grasp on him (I like to think she can do it without her pack to a lesser extent, given that she already has the attachments for it embedded into her arm.) It's hard for me to explain, as it's not something she does to actively hurt him, I think he probably asked her to do it out of curiosity. I think it's.. a trust thing. She has the ability to drain his life away, just as he as the ability to heal hers. A coming together of opposites. Metaphor, Metaphor, yatta yatta, you get it.

Every once and a while, Niran will engage in a game with her, where he will ask her to run away with him. It's a fruitless effort. Moira can't run away from her life. She's dug her grave, and she's actively laying in it. You do not run away from Talon, and you don't run away from the wrought you've wrung into the world. I wrote a little tidbit about it a little while ago :3 here:

Niran shifts to his side, propping himself up by his arm and looking down at Moira. He lacked his usual playful smile, instead opting for a more determined look. “Run away with me.”

Ah, this song and dance. “And where shall we go?”

He hums, considering his options. They’ve played this game a hundred times, and even if the outcome was always the same, he tried anyway. “Iceland is beautiful this time of year, and the hot springs are to die for. I’d love to take you.”

“No.” Moira glances towards him, not wanting to move from her comfortable position. “Much too cold, I prefer the heat nowadays.”

She watches as his hand strays from his side. It wanders to the buttons of her shirt, ever the indulgent one, unable to keep his hands to himself. “Australia?” He undoes one of the buttons, fingers slipping past silky fabric. “You know, the people living in the outback are quite nice when given the chance.”

“Those Junkers?” Moira fails to hold back a laugh. “Preposterous.”

“I’m being serious! They’re resilient and incredibly resourceful, like you.”

Moira rolls her eyes. “I’ll take your word for it.”

That smile of his comes back. “I think their queen would take a liking towards you. She needs someone to punch back her hotheadedness.” He idly feathers his fingers across her collarbone. She sighs, the warmth of his hand soothing her aching body if only for a moment. He’s starting to think he could be winning her over. “I could take you. Admittedly, it’s antiquated, but I think they’d accommodate you. Plus no one would come looking for you out there.”

Just as quickly as he believes to have the upper hand, she snuffs him out completely. “Too much sand. It kicks up and makes a mess of everything. And I would go mad without running water.”

Niran’s posture deflates, visibly dejected. “Just come out there with me, I promise you won’t regret it.”

He’s starting to beg. He knows the game is over, and he’s pushing it. She takes his hand from within her shirt and places it back to his side. “No, Niran.”

He stares at her for a long while before accepting his defeat. “Alright.” He says, voice quiet.

#I am the ceo of yapping about moiraweaver #I LOVE MY MEOW MEOWS !!! FUCK !!#SCRAWWWW 🦅🦅🦅#QNA

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vivelareine · 2 months

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this is a bit of a random question and i apologise if it’s insensitive, you don’t have to answer this!!!

but recently i’ve seen a lot of people call Marie Antoinette racist? at first i thought it was someone just hating her and or, making stuff up but the more i look a lot of people are saying it but i can’t really seem to find anything where it says she IS racist.

so i guess my question is, has she really said anything like that? or is it just rumours about her? am i missing something?

again sorry if this is a bit stupid. you don’t have to answer this if you don’t want to but i thought itd be good to ask as i’ve learned a majority of history from your blog. thanks :)

My main guess would be people who watched the "Chevalier" film and thought it was historically accurate. I've seen a few people on various social media implying she was a "fake ally" to Bologne and citing the film's events as facts.

What little we do know about Marie Antoinette in relation to racism is that she:

supported Joseph Bologne; played privately with him and supported him publicly in a massive way in the 1780s, despite the Opera scandal which involved women of the opera using racism to ensure he didn't get the position

did not at least personally choose the normal aristocratic route of putting a trafficked child "gifted" to her into slavery (in all but name) by dressing him up exotically and making him a servant. Instead, the child Amilcar was baptised, she had servants in her household be his godparents, she sent him to school, etc. The revolutionaries, when considering a petition for Amilcar's care after Marie Antoinette's death, even noted that she committed an "unusual act of humanity" that was contrary to what aristocrats usually did.

There were at least some of these enslaved "Exoticized" servants at Versailles, as we see them in 2 portraits of her at the hunt, but it's unclear how many there were, and what Marie Antoinette's involvement with them was. It is possible they were part of the king's household retinue for hunting, or that they were represented in the hunting portraits as a means of "prestige."

We have nothing directly written by Marie Antoinette that suggests she was any more racist than the typical person in her time. We do have some evidence that suggests she was more tolerant than others, in her support of Joseph Bologne and treatment of Amilcar which was considered by revolutionaries to be an unusual act of humanity.

Race in 18th century France is a complicated situation, though. For instance, at the same time that Marie Antoinette is supporting Joseph Bologne, laws are passing under Louis XVI that require black people to register to the government, laws that limit the amount of black people in mainland France, etc. We have no evidence to show either way how Marie Antoinette felt about any of that.

All we have is knowing that she extended her personal kindness and sympathy towards two individuals who were not always treated well, although I say her treatment of Amilcar is more notable given how popular Bologne was among the aristocracy anyway.

#marie antoinette

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topaz-witch-tea · 7 months

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Hi im actually like obsessed with your au…anyways can you drop headcanons about Baiheng and Jingliu’s relationship to Yanqing?

Thank you so much!!! I really enjoy writing it and I hope to write more for it in the future!

I can absolutely drop head canons about Baiheng and Jingliu. I have a headcanons for them separately in the works, so I’ll drop headcanons for them as a group here.

**Baiheng and Jingliu are referred to as auntie by Yanqing

1. Baiheng takes very easily to babysitting. She loves children and she especially loves Yanqing. They’re just so cute and full of life. When Yanqing was young, Baiheng rarely ever put him down, instead opting to carry him wherever she went. Jingliu is the opposite, it’s not that she’s bad at it, but rather, she’s rarely ever interacted with babies that they kind of freak her out. They have big heads that need to be supported or else they’ll choke or they accidentallly scratch themselves so you have to put little mits on them. To Jingliu, they are creatures with no sense of self-preservation and very soft, fragile bodies. During rare instances where she’d be left alone with Yanqing, she’d always be quite anxious out of fear of accidentally harming her nephew.

2. They are the couple that goes to parent-teacher conferences and come in when Yanqing gets in trouble. A lot of time Jing Yuan, Dan Feng, and Yingxing get too busy so they will go in their place. Yanqing has always been a polite child, no matter how energetic he is, so parent-teacher conferences are a breeze. Getting called in when Yanqing is in trouble is a totally separate affair. Kids have big emotions and sometimes they don’t express them properly, it happens. Yanqing usually get taken home and given a light scolding on regulating emotions and the proper way to express them by Baiheng, Jingliu is more concerned with “Did you win?” And “Did they hit you first?” But if there is so much of a hint of bullying, Jingliu is ready to fight. Parent, child, it doesn’t matter who- she will fight them and she will win. Baiheng is more in the habit of making veiled threats to the staff. Children are young and dumb, it is the responsibility of the adults around them to ensure everyone is taken care of. Besides, they did not shell out a ton of money for a fancy, private school so the staff could turn a blind eye to their nephew getting bullied.

3. When Yanqing gets mad at his parents, he goes off to his aunties’ house. This first started when Yanqing was 7 and his fathers couldn’t play with him and had turned him away from their office. Yanqing, with all the rebellious and courage of a 7 year old, decided he was going to sneak out and see his aunties instead. After all, they wouldn’t turn him away. So he snuck out the back gate that the gardeners used with Mimi in tow as a bodyguard. He knew the route by heart and walked for 15 minutes until he got to their manor. He was absolutely taken in and treated to delicious food and game with Baiheng while Jingliu called Jing Yuan asking why his kid just showed up at her door with no adult supervision besides a lion. Yanqing sees no difference between either locations, both places are his home, it’s just his aunt lives a bit away from him and his dads. His fathers, however, were not pleased that their child had wandered off alone and added an additional lock on the back gate. This lasted for 3 months before Yanqing realized that if he climbed a peach tree and angled his jump correctly, he can make it to the other side of the wall and open the gate for Mimi.

This was sitting in my inbox for a while and I had been working on it slowly after work. I really hope you like it and please feel free to send more. I genuinely enjoy answering them.

#yanqing #jing yuan #jingrenheng #dan feng #yingxing #dan heng #yanqing’s happy family au #honkai star rail #hsr #Yanqing’s happy family AU asks #jingliu #baiheng #jingliu x baiheng

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lets-try-some-writing · 1 year

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With your sparkling AU how is miko like with two dads bulkhead and wheeljack world they spoil her and teach her to be a wrecker?

Oh boy. Here I go destroying my request order again for the sake of the plot. Sorry all yall who are waiting on answers, the sparkling au comes first.

Wreckers Stick Together

Bulkhead and Wheeljack were momentarily disappointed in the frame that the relic had gifted Miko, but they swiftly came to adore it due to how energetic it made her. However after the whole relic debacle and the numerous incidents the sparklings managed to get into, the wrecker duo were hesitant to act rashly.

They took their time slowly worming their way into Optimus's good graces again. And then once the Prime seemed satisfied with their behavior, they at last asked to be given the roles of secondary caretakers for Miko. Thankfully for them, Optimus did not hesitate to grant their wish and even blessed their chosen role. Although looking at the Prime made it pretty obvious that his main reason for giving them the role was because he was exhausted. Still, it didn't deter Bulkhead and Wheeljack.

Miko was their little wrecker when she was human, and she was still one of them now that she was Cybertronian. As such they went full on parental/fun uncle mode with her, taking all the time they had available to play with her and teach her. But as Miko had several more serious caretakers, the wrecker duo didn't feel all that bad when they deviated from teaching more mature topics and instead spoiled the little flier rotten.

Every excuse to give her things was taken. It became habit for Miko to always have good things happen every time she went to hang out with Wheeljack or Bulkhead. Sometimes it was just an energon goodie, other times it was a fun toy, and in odd instances she was even gifted weaponry and items that probably shouldn't be in the servos of a sparkling a vorn and a half old. Bulkhead objected to these particular gifts and took up a slightly more maternal role for Miko to contrast Wheeljack who went full paternal when it came to his little wrecker.

Their shared role of secondary caretaker created a fun dynamic between the trio when they were together. Wheeljack was the one to suggest absurd ideas and Bulkhead was the one to shoot the dangerous ones down and make the others safer for Miko to engage in. At one point Wheeljack tied Miko to a string and left her to hang from the rafters in an experiment designed to see if it would get her to stop jumping off things. Bulkhead did not object to the logic behind the plan, and wanting to help ease the burden on Optimus, just put some mattresses underneath Miko in case she fell. Miko loved being strung up for approximately half an hour before she grew irritated and started to scream. And so not wanting Optimus to know, the wrecker duo tried to get her down before anyone else would notice... only for Wheeljack to pull a cable, rendering him unable to climb up to the rafters to get Miko down.

It didn't take long for Miko's shrill screams, Bulkhead's frantic pacing as he tried to find a way to get her down, and Wheeljack's groans of pain to summon the team to their location. The very first thing that occurred in light of the rest of the team seeing Miko hung from the rafters like a piñata was for both Ratchet and Ultra Magnus to smack the wreckers responsible. Arcee then clambered into the rafters and got Miko down just in time for both Starscream (who had turned up randomly) and Optimus to berate Bulkhead and Wheeljack who looked like kicked puppies all throughout.

Starscream: You absolute IMBECILES! What in Primus's name made you think THIS *gestures to the string and a crying Miko* Was a good idea?!

Wheeljack: ...It was for science...

Starscream: iT wAs FoR sCiEncE!

Bulkhead: We are sorry, we didn't mean for her to get stuck.

Optimus: *soothing Miko* I am sure you had good intentions, but from now on you will have someone watch you while my sparkling is in your care until further notice.

Safe to say Bulkhead became even more of a nanny in response and Ultra Magnus may or may not have spent the next few weeks glaring at the duo whenever Miko was with them just because. But Ultra Magnus has never stopped a determined set of wreckers from doing anything. And so soon enough they got Miko into even more trouble.

In an effort to teach Miko what it means to be a wrecker, Wheeljack in his infinite brilliance thought it would be a grand idea to take her out on patrol with him and Bulkhead. The more maternal wrecker was unaware of the fact that his partner had Miko in his internal carrying compartment until halfway through patrol, when Wheeljack looked around and just popped Miko out like it was no big deal. Bulkhead's first response was to die a little inside and then panic. After all the slag the team had gone through constantly losing the sparklings to one threat or another only to get them back meant that the team would likely be going nuts back at base. But despite Bulkhead's best attempts to explain how this was a very very bad idea, Wheeljack carried on and began talking to and directing Miko as he would a new recruit.

Bulkhead tried to be a diplomat, but it took an additional hour for him to get a response from base. And by that point Wheeljack had already gone through several firing drills with Miko and had her begin some basic training exercises all while he preached wrecker values. Miko didn't perform all that well, but she put in effort and showed great enthusiasm for the activity, much to Wheeljack's delight. Bulkhead got in on it eventually while he waited for the team to response, prepping targets for Miko to shoot and mother henning the situation as a whole.

Wheeljack: *pointing toward a rock with a smiley face drawn on it* See bitlet, that's the bad guy you gotta kill.

Miko: *waving her blaster* Kill!

Bulkhead: Easy on the blaster! She's going to shoot her own optic out!

Wheeljack: Now what you want to do is aim for the helm and blast him to bits. You'll know you did good if he goes kaboom!

Bulkhead: Jackie, stop! She's only a vorn and a half old!

Miko: Kaboom!

Wheeljack: *proud as pit* That's right bitlet. Kaboom.

But as should be expected, the moment the team turned up, they were frantic. Optimus was nearly feral as he threw himself at the wreckers and snatched his sparkling away with a possessive snarl. Ratchet and Ultra Magnus immedietly beat both the wrecker's afts with wrenches and well placed hits to tender protofrom, leaving Bulkhead and Wheeljack twitching on the floor. They were dragged back to base and put in stasis cuffs as punishment for a day or so and then were denied sparklingsitting rights for nearly a month.

Of course this didn't stop Wheeljack from passing Miko candy underhandedly like contraband drugs or Bulkhead from giving her a good-recharge kiss quietly every night. And even once their ban wore off and they were denied rights to taking her anywhere, they still took time to play with her and teach her. Miko loved watching Wheeljack fight against pretend foes and she greatly enjoyed Bulkhead singing and dancing with her.

Miko was their little wrecker. And while neither may have been the best at handling sparklings, they loved her dearly and would gladly go to war in her defense.

#maccadam #transformers #transformers prime #transformers shenanigans #tfp kids as sparklings #wheeljack #bulkhead #miko nakadai #team prime #these wreckers have two braincells combined #and it is only enough to keep them and miko alive #poor boys just wanna be dads but don't have enough self-preservation or common sense to do so #war screwed up their views of 'normal'#ratchet is just waiting for the next opportunity to throw a wrench at these poor sods

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a-dragons-journal · 11 months

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Singlet+

I've been meaning to write this one for a while, so let's see how this goes.

~1k words; essay on the experience of one person who sits right on the funny little edge between "normal roleplay experience" and "actual plurality".

So, let's start with this: I am not plural. But. I do seem to live in a weird space juuuuust on the edge of plurality (and no, I do not mean that I'm a median or blurry system - I mean on the edge of that).

For one thing, I'm a daemian - that is, I practice daemonism; that is, I have personified and given faux autonomy (fauxtonomy, if you will) to my "internal narrator" of sorts and he now lives in my brain with me as a thoughtform, a brain companion, in the shape of an animal. Strictly speaking, that does qualify us for plurality, but we personally don't view our daemonism through that framework and consider ourselves a singlet (as hilarious as the plural grammar makes that sentence, I know). Many daemons don't consider themselves plural; this isn't particularly unusual - in muir case, Locke is a part of me before he is anything else, and while yes there are forms of plurality that look like that, for us personally it makes more sense to view him as "part of me, therefore, still one person".

For another, I had... basically plural experiences when I was younger. I don't want to talk about the details publicly, but suffice to say that for many years I had what I would now call headmates, and I suspect that if I had been exposed to plural spaces during that time period, they may well have stuck around permanently, instead of "fading out" and eventually disappearing as is what actually happened. To this day I don't know how "real" or "imaginary" they were, and I doubt I ever will - they were certainly real to me at the time, but I have also always been very good at suspension of disbelief. Trying to analyze it in any great level of detail is made basically impossible by my piss-poor episodic memory rendering the memories of that time so fuzzy that I can't rely on them for details.

For another, my experiences with OCs are often... soulbond-adjacent? Recently in particular I've had a lot of funny experiences with an OC of mine, a character in a Vampire: The Masquerade campaign I'm a part of (Viridian Caldwell, for my own future self's reference), which led me to do some research on soulbonding because of how fictive-adjacent the experience of her is.

And yet. The answer is a definite no. I get very strong impressions and echoes from her; she "gives" me facts about her and her life that simply Are and that I feel as strongly about being true and unchangeable as I do about my own noemata; she's almost a separate person living in my brain sometimes; I somehow come up with near-prophetic knowledge about her world (as confirmed by my Storyteller, who happens to be part of a system alongside a number of fictives from the world in question, including several who know Viridian personally) with zero explanation on a semi-regular basis.

And yet. The answer is no. Because while I seem to have all the effects a soulbond proper would produce on my end - she is not aware of me, not really. She is not conscious of my world and my life. When I really quiet my own brain and reach out to call out and see if someone's there, there's only silence. It's as though I have a one-way soulbond somehow - which, of course, puts me in the fun gray space between "soulbond" and "normal roleplay/writing experience".

And she's not a unique instance of this. This just happens to me with OCs, although it's been a bit more dramatic with her because of the presence of fictives from her world to converse with (and, realistically, because of the real-time roleplay aspect that a TTRPG has that a video game or the writing of a fanfiction doesn't).

It's as though my brain has the capacity for plurality, but it just... doesn't manifest fully.

And, truth be told, I kind of prefer it this way. I like being a singlet; I would kind of hate having to share headspace with other people. Especially since, if my childhood pseudo-plurality experiences are anything to go by, we would not have good separation of thoughts and memories and true privacy would be very difficult if not impossible. Plus, because of that, I would... probably never get over the doubt of Is It Real Or Not, and I don't need that stress in my life. (For this reason, while I'm 99.9% sure that if I intentionally tried to bring her over as a fictive, it would work, I will not be testing the theory just out of curiosity.)

I wonder if I didn't train myself out of the ability to be Plural Proper, to be honest. Not intentionally, but - I may have mentioned that my power of suspension of disbelief is very strong, and as a child this came with me being extremely easy to manipulate because it was very easy for me to fall into believing things that I wanted to believe. (Again, I don't really want to talk about the details, but suffice to say I had a pretty bad case of Protagonist Syndrome, as it were, for a while.) I had to learn to combat that natural tendency of my brain for my own protection (especially as someone active in witchcraft spaces) - and I wonder if it didn't come with the side effect of immunizing me to developing true plurality (at least without actively trying) by shutting down any attempt by my brain to form a true headmate in the process.

I don't know. I might never. All I know is that while I am, after careful consideration, definitely a singlet, I do seem to live right on the edge of plurality, and it comes with some weird experiences. (And I would like an explanation for why I keep spitting out nigh-prophetic knowledge of this campaign's world; if I find out Viridian is a fictotype of mine or something I'm going to flip my fucking lid.) I've started half-jokingly calling myself "singlet+", half as a joke on cis+ (ie, someone who's questioned their gender and come to the conclusion that they are indeed cis but has a better understanding of their experience of cisness for it) and half as an "unless" "unlesss...?" acknowledgement of the weird border area some of my experiences sit in. It's... not really a serious label, but also isn't entirely a joke.

So... yeah. Singlet+, I guess. Another victim of the "if you only have two words for fear in your language, one for mild test jitters and one for life-threatening terror, you're going to have a lot of trouble describing a lot of normal human experiences" problem of how our language around plurality often works.

#plurality #i guess?#singlet plus #rani talks #not usually a disclaimer i need but this post and blog are endo-safe thank you #journaling #community writings #this is as per usual fully unedited so like. be nice pls lmao

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gojos-lost-lover · 9 months

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2:51 a.m:

Imagine being an old lover of Toji’s.

Long before he ever married and became a father.

The two of you were far from perfect, yet you loved each other with as much certainty as your naive hearts would allow.

First love, a gruelling title you carry with malice.

Toji was everything to you back then, and he still is in a way unique to him.

The time the two of you shared was not as short as it was fast.

The years sped by. One minute he was an awkward teen surrendering to the mercy of his love for you, the next he was an antagonistic symbol of regret.

You never forget your first love, they say.

Yet you buried the memories of yours in the crevices of your soul, or tried to at least.

The news of his marriage was a shock to you.

Sure you had moved on from him, but the young girl inside of you was still cursing the gods, daring them to hurt him how he hurt her.

Nonetheless, you turned a blind eye to the ache in your chest, silencing the screams of the young girl.

The years continued to fly by, still too fast for your liking.

You lived a monotonous life, never quite content and too exhausted to submit to misery.

After many lovers and a failed engagement, you found yourself at a cross road. You were getting older.

By the time you turned 30, you had given up on the idea of a family, not wanting to risk bestowing the cruelty of the Jujutsu world upon them. For a brief moment, your thoughts wandered to a place familiarly foreign. Toji.

Even if a decade had passed, you could never forget about him for he was the one who taught you what love was.

He proved to you that love was not merciful but instead ruthless. And that envy leaves much to be desired.

You envied her, his wife.

She was beautiful, not tainted by the bloodshed of your world.

She looked loving, if that was even possible.

But the past should remain in the past, and it did. Your first love did not cross your mind again for nearly another decade.

40 looked good on you, according to a certain white haired someone that is.

Regret was the only feeling constantly present in your life now. You wanted a family, to give love and ask of nothing in return. Yet ironically, your life seemed cursed by the despair brought forward by time.

It was on a particularly painful night that your first love crossed your mind once again. However unlike previous instances, you could see him vividly.

The dark figure looming over you brought back all the emotions of your youth.

He had changed and you wished you could say it was for the better.

But that doesn’t matter to you. Especially not when the man who crushed your dreams without even knowing was less than five feet away from you.

You give him a smile. The melancholy radiating off of you caressing him in the ways you wish you could have yourself.

The pain is overwhelming, you are drowning in a burning sea with no option but to try and stay afloat.

His eyes are burned into the back of your mind and there are tears welling in your own.

Before he has the chance to speak, you duck your head and walk past him as though he was no more than a mere figment of your past.

You miss the look of sorrow that shoots across the older man’s face. The memories of your relationship flash through his mind and leave him with questions that will never get the chance to be answered.

Toji always prided himself in being selfish yet he ignored the screaming urge to run after you and rekindle even a sliver of what you once shared.

You wouldn’t want him and the baggage that keeps him prisoner. For heavens sake, he has a kid, he doubts you would want a family at this age.

With a heavy heart, Toji walks away and doesn’t look back. His hands feel dry, but he knows they are soaked in blood. For the second time in his life, he kills you.

Your first love leaves once again. Fleeting, the only consistency in your life.

When you get home you seek comfort in cheap wine and attempt to erase any thoughts of the brooding man.

Feeling left behind never gets easier. But lord does it get more tragic.

Becuase your first lover never dies, it kills

#jjk #jujutsu sorcerer #jujutsu kaisen #toji #jujutsu kaisen toji #toji x reader #angst #toji angst #gojo #jjk angst #jjk x reader #anime #manga #fanfics #sad #jujutsu gojo

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moeyes · 1 year

Text

“things that matter” ♡ | nikola tesla

pairing: nikola tesla x gn. reader

warnings: 4.8k words, afterlife au, pre-ror development, fluff, established relationship, far distance relationship issues, angst with a happy ending, slow build-up, soft make-out sessions

synopsis: your lover, consumed by his conquest for a massive breakthrough in his studies, loses sight of the people around him that matter– especially you.

HIS WORK, AND NOTHING MORE-- A COMMON PHRASE USED BY NIKOLA WHEN DESCRIBING HIS PASSIONS. It was one of the very things that you adored about your lover; indeed, his overwhelming devotion to whatever he puts his mind to. Hearing in excruciating details the discoveries Nikola has made so far, along with what he intends to do in the future. He never rushed his perfection, taking his time analyzing each and every component of a plan to make sure everything is executed flawlessly. No matter how much time it took him, he would spend every fiber of his being to complete it.

It was always a sight to see him dancing around his lab with the equations and models that he scribbled down with a dull chalk bud used relentlessly. Nikola's eyes would always be brimming with purest form of fascination when he figured out an answer to his dilemmas, as if it were a gift that he's been given. Mozart's symphonies would echo throughout the hall on his record player, playing for long spans of time whenever he was too focused on the task at hand to change it.

There were even instances where Nikola pushed his body to the extreme, leaving him to feel lethargic from the lack of food and sleep. You had grown used to taking care of him during those times, pampering him with his favorite meals and resting the rest of the day away. Majority of the time, Nikola recognized the limits that his body held, but there was one particular research project that spiraled him down into passing out. You could recall everything that transpired that day. The sheer fright of how pale his skin looked, how his cheeks have thinned, and how his eyebags had darkened, creating semi-permanent indentations around his eyes.

Bringing him from off the floor, you eased him down onto his desk chair, propping up his body to where he wasn't uncomfortable. Fetching some water and a clean cloth, you started with dipping the cloth into the bowl, squeezing out the excess water before dabbing the wet fabric onto his face to wake Nikolas. You repeated the process for a few cycles before you noticed him beginning to wake. At that moment, you knew you couldn't hold your tongue with the way he was treating his body. "You mustn't push your body to the brink of exhaustion, dearest! Seeing you as a workaholic husk instead of the vivacious and hungry man fueled by his desire to create, to help others concerned me to no end."

It was as if you were scolding a child as the words poured feverishly past your lips. Fist clenched and shoulders squared, you held your ground on the matter, yet you couldn't make yourself glare at his disheveled frame. No, your gaze softened as you knelt down to Nikola's seated body, pressing the gentlest of kisses to his calloused fingertips to his bruised knuckles. "I love how attentive you are to your career as an inventor, but you can't drown yourself in the storm of ideas you constantly have brewing in your head. You need to establish a balance between your work and your well-being."

Nikola placed his hand over yours, letting your words sink in and permeate in his head. He always hated being wrong, but he couldn't deny that your words held the truth. What he hated even more was seeing you in such a distraught state of mind, worrying over him. His thumb rubbed circles across the joints of your fingers, as if you were the one who needed comforting.

"I'm sorry, my love. There's no need to fret over me any longer." He said, his voice low and raspy instead of his usual bombastic volume he emitted wherever he went. "I'm always going to worry about you because I care. I just don't want you to drown yourself in your work." Blue eyes that made even the clearest of skies pale in comparison stared down at you dully, lacking the luster that once made them sparkle. You cup the side of his face tenderly, raising his head from its slumped state.

"Just... Promise me you'll try to take better care of yourself?" Nikola didn't respond with words; instead, he leaned forward, placing a chaste kiss to your temple. His hands clung onto your top, the fabric being dug into by his hands. Your usual perfume filled his nostrils, a scent that even in the deepest of trances can bring some awareness for him. More than anything in this very moment, Nikola wanted the company that he isolated himself from for far too long. "I'll try, just promise you'll be patient with me." There was no question on the matter, you knew that you would always wait for him, because you were indubitably in love with him.

Even in death, as your soul became your sentient being, your final form, you stayed by his side. Both of you appearing in your prime, his tousled back hair to his vibrant blue eyes, he was just as how you remembered him. Holding the same vigor he carried throughout his past life, he worked even harder within a world that had no limitations in the pursuit of his studies. With newfound access to creators from timelines both in the past and future, he was able to converse with some of the brightest minds from across history. understanding what was once foreign to him.

Of course, Nikola made a greater effort in spending time with you as well. Apart from his fast-paced ramblings and frantic pacing throughout the new workspace he had created with you, Nikola explored things outside the realm of science, things of your interest. Showing you grand gestures by creating little trinkets and décor that made him think of you, scheduling days away from his job to devote that time to you and you alone-- whether it be simply appreciating one another's company or taking you out to sightsee areas that he believed you would like. Seeing him take into mind what you've said in the past, seeing him make an effort after spending countless years with one another, was touching. You knew how much being an inventor meant to Nikola, and in no way would you ever try to take that away from him.

Just as much as he compromised for you, you made sure to reciprocate the same notion to him. There would be times where it stretched for days where you wouldn't hear from him, seeing as he close himself off into his lab like a hermit when the latest idea that he had needed to be fulfilled. Little notes would be transferred between the two of you in these moments to reassure one another that you were doing alright with the use of a robotic pigeon named Regis that he created for this sole purpose. It was miraculous how lively the animatronic acted, almost like she were your pet bird. Whenever she wasn't sending messages between the both of you, she would keep you company during the time Nikola couldn't.

And no matter what, in the end of his grueling sessions, you were always the first for Nikola to sought after, showing you the fruit of all of his hard work, going into depth for every specific detail and purpose for what each mechanic served. To tie it all together, he would always pull you into his embrace, peppering kisses all along your face as you would giggle at his antics. Everything in your "life" with Nikola was going smoothly, and you wouldn't trade it for the world, but even in the afterlife, things can't be harmonious forever. There were rumors uprising about the Gods consulting about an event called Ragnarök occurring, and out of all the billions of people that could've been chosen, Nikola Tesla was one of the thirteen warriors drafted to fight for humanity.

You knew there was no swaying Nikola from carrying out with this request, no matter how much your heart yearned for him to refuse, to back down this once, so he could stay with you. He was too stubborn, too prideful about his intelligence in what science has to shoe to ever step down; in fact, you swore that he was elated to be picked for the duel, eyes brimming inexplicably bright as the sides of his mouth twitched upwards. For how long you've known Nikola, it's amazing how he still manages to baffle you every once in a while. What was no surprise, though, was how quickly he went to work afterwards, sparring no time for civilities any longer, for he had work to do.

"There's no time to lose," He dressed himself quickly, rushing from out the bedsheets to gather some of his most needed equipment to bring along with him. Where he was exactly going, neither of you knew, but he was told that he would be escorted to a private chambers later in the day via letter. "I will ensure that Regis stays with you. I don't know when I'll see you next." He looked at you, watching the twitch of your lips as you tried your best to hold a smile. "I know." Nikola knew that you understood the gravitation of the situation, it just didn't make it any easier to part from one another. "I'm a sorry excuse of a lover. I know, time and time again, I don't deserve someone as understanding as you are, but please wait for me."

You shook your head at his self-degrading, disapproving of any of the claims that he had made about himself. "I always will, Nikola." Affirming your words with a kiss to his lips, you relished the feeling of his smooth lips, the stale taste of whiskey lingering when you parted away from him. Making sure that neither of you could forget the feeling of each other, Nikola brought his lips back onto yours, this time, holding the notion for longer. His gloved thumb cupped the side of your jaw, controlling the pace.

He kissed you as if it would be his last, sharing to you what could not be expressed through words, before he pulled away, eyes lulling over you. Exhaling through your nose, you pecked the corner of his mouth before moving away. "Let's finish up quickly. Maybe we'll have time for a drink afterwards." Nikola offered, grinning in your direction before he turned to work on a section of his lab, next to you. The time spent getting his items packed together was short, but you spent it as close as you possibly could to each other until he had to depart.

Brunhilde, the eldest of the Valkyrie sisters, was quick to usher Nikola into a space where he could concur his masterpiece alongside the most brilliant minds within history, locked away to handle his own devices. You knew you wouldn't be seeing Nikola for a while, hearing him discuss all the varying thoughts he had stored up in that magnificent mind of his, nor have him hold you during nightfall, where the warmth of his body would ease you to sleep. This situation was bigger than you, and he had his wondrous destiny to triumph over, so you had to be strong. You had to conceal your emotions on the matter, and support him as best as you could from the sidelines.

Time seemed to pass effortlessly over the span of weeks, going on two months, and you hadn't heard a peep from Nikola. It was as if he had disappeared off the very face of the Earth, and you had no means of finding him. Patience was becoming something you couldn't afford, no matter how much you attempted to coax yourself into whatever ideas you'd like to believe was true. There was no evidence to support any of your claims, anything your imagination manifested for the sake of comfort, and knowing that made you impatient. The only communication line you had has now been severed, and your only hope was that one of your little friends could reach out to him, or someone that could get you to him.

"Please try and find him for me, Regis. I need to know that he's doing okay." Your desperate whispers were weak as you cradled the metallic bird within your trembling hands. The request was tied to one of its hindlimbs, a shriveled up note lacking any of the flair that you would typically put in. It was a pathetic excuse of a request to see him, at the earliest convenience, to whoever had the capability to hear your woes and help out. You watched as Regis's intricate wings flapped, before leaving the window of your chambers until she was out of sight. With taking account of Regis's speed, she could locate Nikola within the span of a few hours, if his lab was in close distance.

All you could in that time was clean yourself up, changing from out of the days old clothing that had been left on your back to change into something much more presentable for the public eye. Combing out the tangles in your hair that you had refused to have taken care of any earlier and brushing your teeth until all the plaque buildup had been scrubbed away. You tried to recall the moment you fell out of your daily routines of self care, being about for days ago when the an entire two months had passed with no words exchanged with Nikola. Of course, you had your friends, but you wanted the company of your lover, you had to see him, or at least hear him. This was the longest you had gone without seeing him, or without one of those little notes he would send you to show you that he was at least still functioning.

You didn't want to disturb him, but you wished that he reached out first to let you know that he was okay, and that he longed to see you just as much as you do now. You blink away the tears that attempted to gloss over your eyes-- no, you wouldn't cry, even though thinking about the loss of contact hurt. Reminiscing over what was instead of how things are now made things easier for a time, but they were no permanent solution by any means. Once you were finished tidying yourself up, you occupied the time by going throughout the piles of notes that he had composed throughout his projects, his handwriting surprisingly eloquent for how fast he jotted everything down. Even throughout his scattered thoughts, you were a sidenote on every few pages, seeing Nikola's deepest desires to be beside you used as a motivation to work even harder.

Sometimes you were a footnote on the side, but then there were others where thoughts of you would take up the entirety of a page. If something was used to quell your anxious thoughts of how much importance you are to him, the hundreds of pages that you were on made all the doubt you once held wash away the more you buried yourself into his writing. Digging deeper and deeper into every stack that you could get your hands on, you saw how much he cared, and that in the stretched out times that you were apart, even now, still took a toll on him too. Despite feeling so bitter initially, so lost as to where you stand with Nikola, you nearly forgot the type of man your dearest was.

Nikola Tesla was a lover unlike any other, one who was so devoted that his eyes never strayed to another, one who once makes a promise never backs down from it. His resolve was strong, which was probably one of the very reasons he was chosen to fight for humanity. This wasn't something that should make you upset, it should be something that makes you proud of all of his efforts being recognized by the Gods. If that isn't a feat in itself, then you didn't know what was. You smiled to yourself, one that was genuine, for the first time in what felt like weeks. "Nikola, wait for me just a little bit longer. I'm on my way." You declared aloud, your voice echoing throughout the domed space, before proceeding to examine more of his research entries as Mozart played in your ears.

"My, I never thought I would have the opportunity to examine the mad scientist's before-death work for myself." A feminine voice jested, one that sounded quite familiar to your ears. You whipped your head around, surprised by the unexpected intrusion on your privacy. Brunhilde, someone you didn't quite trust, waltz right past your locked door to stand right in front of you. "How did you-" "Valkyries have a lot of things that humans don't. Anyway, it's of no importance right now," It was clear that she wasn't going to elaborate any more on the whole "breaking-in" spiel, but you couldn't help but be curious by her sudden arrival. "There was a creation of Tesla's, a bird who approached me with a request made by you." Revealing the now crumpled note that she was holding onto, you were relieved to see that Regis was able to reach out to someone in power over the whole event.

"I wish to see Nikola. I know he's busy, so I'm grateful for any amount of time I'm able to spend with him," Your cheeks flushed deeper with each word you spoke, but you knew it was what you wanted more than anything else. "Has he been taking care of himself? I hope he hasn't been drowning himself in alcohol to keep up." Muttering the last part under your breath, you glanced towards her hopefully. With all the commotion going around, it would make sense if Brunhilde didn't have the time to check up on him daily, but she was the last one you saw interact with him. You figured she had to know something about his whereabouts. "Tesla has been well; in fact, he's been outworking all of his other colleagues, staying up for hours on end."

You chuckled at the thought, recalling yourself placed in a familiar situation with Tesla. Multiple different occurrences, each with their own story to tell. Times where you would escort him to bed, others where you provided him company when the moon was high-strung and vibrant. You could go on, and on with the stories you had to share, but now simply wasn't the time. "That sounds like him. For a man who a go with only an hour of sleep, it's incredible how he always manages to outpace everyone." You couldn't stop the smile from breaking out on your lips as you gazed back down at the last paper you were holding, one dedicated to you. "You care for him deeply." Brunhilde said in a matter-of-fact tone, fingertips grazing over the stray papers scattered across his desk as she made her way to you.

"He is always in my thoughts," You paused, grip tightening on the sheet of paper in your hands. "I'm surrounded by every little thing that reminds me of him. It's amazing how thinking of someone can make a person so happy, yet so sad at the same time." She hummed softly at your words, her walking ceasing when she made her way 'round the lab until she was right in front of you. "I can bring you to him. I believe Tesla seeing you will improve his work ethic significantly." Oh, so she did gain something out of helping you with your request, but it was of no matter. What did was that you wouldn't have to waste a second more wallowing in your loneliness, because you would be with him. "I would love nothing more than to see him."

Brunhilde flashed a smile in your direction, beckoning you with a wave of her hand. Without hesitation, you followed her without second thought out of the room to as she lead you out of your home, out to an area you didn't recognize. There were so many questions you wanted to ask her, but a part of you assumed that Brunhilde wasn't the type to share all of her cards to anyone she didn't trust. Deciding that it would be best to ask Nikola his perspective when you had the chance, you kept your mouth shut as you continued to walk alongside her in silence. Being graced with the enormous arena structure that replicated the common Greek architecture, you marveled at the sight for a moment, before realizing that she continued to walk within the open hallways.

Venturing throughout this place was most certainly a workout in itself. Various corridors and stairs to escalate, you began to wonder how it was so easy for Brunhilde to keep such a consistent pace with all the walking you had to do to get around. "Don't worry, we're almost there." She suddenly informed you, as if she was able to read your mind. Maybe it was the telltale signs of the way you struggled to keep her pace, with every one step she made, you had to take two. Nodding at her words, you noticed her turn a sharp corner, leading towards a padlocked door. It resembled the type that would be in action novels where a big heist would take place, overbearing and intimidating to the eye. "He's in here?" Your heart was beginning to pace much faster than before, hands becoming clammy at the thought as you looked ahead, thoughts racing, and every single one of them about Nikola.

"Yes, he is. Are you ready?" Brunhilde glanced over at you through her peripheral vision, her hand already placed down on the scanner that allowed her access into the sealed off space. "I have been for quite sometime now-- I can't even contain my excitement." You exhaled, drawing it out longer to really feel like this was happening. You could feel the burning in your muscles for the far out walk that had to be made, but everything about the destination and finally being reunited all felt so surreal to the point where it was hard to decipher if this was true. The door whirled in recognition to the Valkyrie, the gigantic handles spinning automatically until another machine peered out. She followed it, head tilting upwards to where her eyes were visible enough for the machine to process. A beeping sound rung out in confirmation, causing the door to swing open, granting both of you access inside.

A short tunnel proceeded soon after, filled to the brim with different pipelines going all throughout the walls, emitting a fluorescent glow from all corners. "He did all that?" You gaped, referencing the tight security established just to get into the room alone. "Indeed. He is quite the mad scientist, isn't he?" She commented, gesturing to the final barrier standing in front of you. It was a much simpler door in comparison to the one you were faced with before, a basic turn-the-knob mechanic that threw you off. You motioned your hand to the handle, eliciting a singular nod from the dark-haired woman as a sign to proceed. Wiping your hands on your slacks, you reached out to place your hand on the silver handle with a tight grip, before turning it open to bare witness to the sight in front of you.

A very spacious lab with rounded walls that were all covered to the brim with filled-up chalkboards, windows acting as dividers all throughout the lining of the walls. Endless sheets of papers acted as a rug throughout the flooring with the occasional stack of books on the side. It was a mess, to say the least, but that could be discussed on a later note. Rushing fully into the room, your eyes searched for the one person you were trying to locate, until the door was slowly beginning to close. Brunhilde waved at you a farewell before the door completely closed due to the force of a familiar gloved hand. Following the direction of the arm, your eyes trailed upward to see a recognized set of clothing, continuing until you saw him, Nikola Tesla in all his upstanding glory.

He looked healthy, skin just as fair as it was when he left, his enchanting blue eyes staring at you with a gaze that made your heart swell, and a grin, one that was so bright that it left you awestricken. Brown hair tousled, majority of it pushed back with a few wavy strands falling to his forehead as Regis was parched on his shoulder, just like old times. You reached out to him, voice failing to make itself apparent, but that didn't stop him from making his way to you, carefully grabbing your wrist to bring your hand up to his cheek. He was flushed, and so warm to the touch. His natural, earthly scent that he tended to emit filled your senses, allowing your tense hand to ease up, cupping the side of his face more properly. You had so much that you wanted to say, so many questions brewing inside your head, but they all felt pointless to ask because Nikola was here with you now, so nothing else mattered.

"I've been waiting for such a long time." Was all that came out from your mouth, finally taking the chance to look him head on. "I know." Is what he replied with, turning his head slightly to press a kiss to the palm of your hand. "I've missed you-- more than you would ever know." You let out a shaky breath. It was becoming much harder to have a proper restraint over your emotions, and Nikola knew it. "Whenever I slept, it was you who filled all my dreams." He admitted, his smile becoming lopsided as he pensively let his sight be taken up by you alone. "I wish you reached out to me, I've sent countless letters to you throughout the days, yet to be met with no response," Tears prickled your eyes as you recounted the days where your hope dwindled with each passing day you waited, as per his request.

It was unbearable, that period of isolation etched into your mind, becoming a part of your life that won't become easy to simply move on from. Eventually though, you will, and you know that. "As much as it hurt, I'm just so much more relieved to see you." Moving your hand away from his face, you brought his shoulder forward to bring him into a tight embrace. Bringing his hands up to your back, Nikola squeezed you back, everything feeling so right when you are in his arms. It was if he was finally home, and he didn't realize how much he missed it, until he had to be apart from you. Kissing any surface of exposed skin, he wanted to show his appreciation for you, wanting to be rid of any thoughts during your time apart that were dark and simply untrue. From your collarbone to your neck, maneuvering upwards until your lips were the only unmarked spot.

He kissed you light, almost as if he was asking permission to continue further into the kiss. You both came to a compromise, you meeting him halfway as your lips finally pressed fully onto one another in conjunction. You combed your hair through his wavy strands, feeling how silky smooth they still were as you pushed him forward, even further in. Nikola was precise, excelling in knowing what exactly pleases you, and it was no different when he had his fingers brushing the nape of your neck, causing you to shudder from his touch. He chuckled against your lips, before moving his face back to have enough room to examine your flushed cheeks. "You haven't changed in the slightest." He hummed, your chin in his grasp as he thoroughly checked your body for any prominent changes that would come easy for him to notice.

Smiling at his familiar antics, you cheekily stated, "Neither have you. It's not something I mind, though." Your combined laughter echoed throughout the area, with Nikola tumbling back and pulling you down with him all across the papers that provided a surprisingly plush landing. Your head was placed right on top of his sturdy chest, unsure of what exactly was going on until Nikola's arm tucked under your body, bringing you closer to him.

"I want to share with you everything that I have discovered, everyone that I've met, and all that I have managed to accomplish in our time apart," Nikola exclaimed, hand reaching out towards the walls around him, motioning at the clearly visible result of a combined effort. "But more than anything, I want to hear about you. I want to know what you have been doing, even the mundane. The books you've read, the food you've eaten, I want to hear all about it, so won't you indulge me?"

a/n: wanted to write something soft for nikola's character because he is just too sweet.

#snv #snv x reader #ror #ror x reader #x reader #shuumatsu no valkyrie #record of ragnorak #nikola tesla #ror nikola tesla #snv nikola tesla #fanfic #a03 #a03 fic #light angst #gender neutral reader #gn reader #reader insert #nikola tesla x reader

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