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yourmidnightlover · 2 months

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the sun

pairing: bucky barnes x fem!reader

summary: after the events of the snap, you find out news that's both heart wrenching and warming. what happens five years later when bucky's back?

warnings: death, mourning, pregnancy, childbirth, canon-typical violence (not much but just adding to cover all the bases), loosely based on end game and infinity war (as in ignore my mistakes lmaooo), if i failed to mention any warnings PLEASE LET ME KNOW!

wc: 2.6k

a/n: dude idk why i've had an urge to write such heart wrenching angst lately. i'm actually in a decent place rn. i tried to cut this fic down bc originally it was SOOOO long i felt like a lot of it was just filler and i feel like shorter fics of mine tend to do better... ANYWHO! this does have a happy/hopeful ending so no worries! also picturing this beefcake for this story is AGHHHHHHH!

you never thought two lines on a stick could ever break your heart the way they did.

tears clouded your vision as you gripped the counter, trying not to crumble or succumb to your grief.

6 weeks ago, the avengers lost. everything.

half of the world, gone in a moment.

in one moment, your world collapsed. seeing bucky fade to dust right in front of you...

sobs wracked through your body as you crumbled to the ground.

this was supposed to be a happy moment. there should be tears of joy, not sobs of sorrow. your heart should feel full of love, not like there's a super-soldier sized hole in it.

"y/n," nat's voice rang outside the door, giving you a moment to yourself.

"just-," you tried to level your breathing before she opened the door, knowing but not understanding the grief you were feeling.

she wrapped her arms around your body, tucking your head into her neck as she gently rubbed your back soothingly. steve leaned against the bathroom door, glancing on the counter to see what they had all expected.

a positive pregnancy test.

you were having bucky's baby.

without bucky.

you gripped his dog tags that you had been wearing since the funeral. they were the only thing that could truly ground you.

they brought back happy memories of cuddling in bed, the cool metal shocking your skin for only a moment before realizing that it was only bucky and smiling at the memory.

god, it hadn't even been two months.

how were you supposed to do this alone?

"we're here for you," steve's voice called from the doorway, as if he could hear your thoughts. "you'll never be alone. not in this... not ever." he shook his head, his brows furrowed in a serious, straight line.

eventually, your sobs subsided. you stood with nat from your seat on the ground, wiping your own eyes mustering up a pathetic smile before she left you and steve to work out your grief together.

"we didn't even know it was possible," you shrugged. "it's like he sent me them..." you placed your hand on an invisible bump before facing steve, his teary eyes reminding you that he had lost his best friend, too. "he sent us this baby."

you reached your hand out for steve to hold. he took it gratefully and pulled you into his arms, hugging you tight and letting only a few tears slip his waterline before pulling back.

"if you'll let me, i want to be there for you for everything," his chin wobbled. "buck would kick my ass if i let you go through this alone." a genuine laugh left your lips for the first time in nearly two months.

"i would be so grateful for that," you nodded as you let go of his arms. "part of me still can't believe that it's real. it's like part of me still expects him to walk into the compound from a long mission or something..." you shook your head. "i know that sounds so stupid."

"it's not," he shook his head with a smile. "it's what i wish was true, maybe it's your subconscious trying to preserve your mind?"

"maybe," you shrugged before continuing, "i should probably talk to tony and bruce, huh?"

you knew you were around eight weeks along.

according to the doctors' tony had enlisted, however, you were already 12 weeks along, which was impossible.

bucky had been gone on a mission at that time... but it's whatever. you got to hear the heartbeat. steve went with you, too. you both bawled together. you kept three copies of the ultrasound and he kept two.

banner had already offered to do some testing on the dna of the baby, noting that the serum would likely affect the pregnancy (as it probably already has).

you had talked to tony about retiring from the whole superhero gig for the time being. you needed to mourn and prepare for a new life simultaneously. tony had promised to provide anything you needed at the drop of a hat, and he sure as hell delivered.

within no time, your pregnancy was being measured at 20 weeks while only being pregnant for 12. banner was concerned for your body's ability to keep up with the rapid rate of growth of the baby. he had you on a strict, hefty diet with two different prenatal vitamins in attempt to help your nutrition.

in spite of your best efforts, you were always exhausted and in pain. but you wouldn't trade it for anything in the world. this was bucky's baby. you didn't care how much pain you went through when you had half of him growing inside of you.

you couldn't walk for long without feeling like passing out, which banner chalked up to low iron. steve had grown progressively more worried for you and the baby the longer the pregnancy went on.

as a result, he had moved into the spare room that was in your and bucky's house. truly, it just made it easier for him to help you finish up the nursery anyway.

he was very handy about it all, painting, building furniture from scratch, the whole deal.

"i've been thinking... and if it's a girl, i want to name her evangeline james barnes," you informed steve as you ate the steak he had been making for the past few weeks of your pregnancy, as ordered by dr. banner. that with carrots, broccoli, potatoes, and for dessert strawberries, blueberries and raspberries over ice cream. "and if it's a boy, cyrus james barnes. evangeline means good news, and cyrus means sun."

steve placed his hand over yours, "i think buck would've loved them." he smiled warmly as you downed the food in a few minutes.

you had begun showing soon after you found out you were pregnant, but now, it felt like it was impossible to hide. nat had been wonderful about helping you keep up with the changes your body was going through, getting you new maternity clothes every week.

she even made sure to get you every single craving that wasn't in accordance to banner's hefty diet. not that he didn't want you to eat more, he thought it was best you did! but he also wanted to make sure that with all that you did eat, your body got as many nutrients as possible.

just to be safe, he kept you on other vitamin supplements anyway.

you couldn't help but imagine what bucky would say or do about everything now.

he would hold your body closely, pressing firm kisses to your bump every chance he could get while whispering some sickly sweet sayings to your unborn child, words that would melt the winter soldier's cold exterior.

he would whisper words of encouragement any moment you felt worried about your abilities to be a mom. he would say how beautiful you were, in spite of being bloated in places you didn't know could bloat.

he would be wonderful, and in your mind, he was still alive and vibrant. well, as vibrant as bucky ever was, at least.

truthfully, that's the only way you were able to keep going on like this. steve was wonderful, but you couldn't help but want the love of your life by your side as you tried to navigate this new chapter.

in a couple more weeks, you were projected to be at 32 weeks. bruce and tony were talking with your doctors about the safety of inducing so early, both for you and the baby.

oh, and you wanted the gender to be a surprise.

and within the week, you were having your baby.

steve and nat were by your side during the birth, whispering encouraging words and compliments of your strength.

"i need him!" you screamed in pain as you held one of each of their hands, sobbing in agony. "i need james! i need my bucky! i can't do this alone, i can't-i can't!"

"you can," nat reminded you. "this baby needs you," she held your face to look at hers. "bucky is a part of this baby." you swore you could see tears in her eyes before turning to face steve.

"remember what you told me when you found out you were pregnant?" he didn't bother wiping the tears from his face. "bucky sent you-sent us this baby. he knows you can do it." you sniffled before nodding at your two best friends, pushing with one last scream and a second later, you had...

"cyrus james barnes," the nurse called to you. "it's a boy, congratulations mom."

the next few years went by quicker than you could've ever imagined.

crawling, first words, first steps...

you missed bucky. not a day passed where you didn't miss him.

but, having cy helped a lot. he looked just like his father. dark brown hair, icy blue eyes, a cute little nose... not to mention his father's stubbornness.

you made sure he knew who his father was. you took him to the museum often, showing him the statue of his father and his background in the world war, him saving the world so much. you told him how you fell in love with him.

how you fell for the quiet man before ever really talking to him. how you were partners on a long-term, undercover mission and that's where your love ignited from the sparks.

not that cy understood any of what you told him. you just felt it was important to know that his parents loved him, and each other dearly.

you never took off his dog tags, either.

steve was a huge help the whole time. he kept working for the avengers, so he was gone often, but he provided a good male role model for cyrus. after all, he was his uncle steve. he already taught him how to throw a ball, albeit a little softball, but it counts!

you made sure to document everything that went on in yours and cyrus's life.

banner had said that cyrus was growing at an exceeding rate, but nothing to be concerned about. in fact, cyrus was turning five in almost half a year, meaning the anniversary of bucky's death, or disappearance or whatever you called it, was coming up.

then, you got a call from tony and banner.

it all happened so quickly, from testing to planning to the execution. pepper watched cyrus for you while you went back with steve, scott, and tony to get the tesseract.

of course, the men being men had to come upon a few hiccups, but eventually, after going as far back as the 70s, you brought back the tesseract.

the only thing is that nat never came back...

next thing you know, bruce is snapping his fingers and clint is getting a call from his supposedly deceased wife. your eyes fill with tears, hands searching in your pockets for your phone to see if you've gotten anything yet.

is it possible he wasn't brought back? he was the first to... disintegrate. die. maybe that meant something in the eyes of the stones?

then, you felt a buzz in your hand.

although, you didn't have any time to try to grasp what that meant, because more aliens came to earth.

shocker.

after yet another war, one that you weren't even prepared for, after losing more people, again. after losing tony...

but amidst the chaos of the aftermath of the fight, with screams of joy and shock and grief surrounding you, tears streaming down your face, your eyes met the blue ones you only saw in your son.

he slowly walked towards you as the tears sped up. you didn't even realize when your feet began running towards him.

when his arms wrapped around your waist, you finally felt the home you thought you had come to terms with never feeling again. your arms wrapped around his neck, your face buried in his shoulder as you breathed in the scent of gunmetal that had overtaken him in the battle.

"oh my god," you cried into the leather of his jacket. he lifted you off the ground, your legs wrapping around his waist as you felt his smile on your cheek. "i can't believe you're really here."

"i'm here, doll," his hands cradled your head so tenderly. "i'm not ever leaving again. never."

you pulled back before your eyes widened in realization. "you've gotta meet someone, jamie."

his brows furrowed in confusion, just smiling and nodding along with whatever you said.

within the next few hours, simply being held by bucky before steve stole him away with a hug, you finally brought him home.

"so, steve moved in," you started as you pulled your car into the driveway, turning to see bucky looking at you with an incredulous look. "you'll see why." you reached to hold his hand before he brought yours to his lips, pressing a kiss there.

you told him to wait in the car as you went inside to relieve the babysitter for cyrus. after giving him some cash, he went outside, knocking on your car window to let bucky know he should make his way inside.

upon entering, he saw you sitting on the floor with a little boy with striking blue eyes that seemed so familiar to him. his nose, too. his lips though, they were all yours. he had a slight grin plastered on his lips, one that matched yours to a t.

"daddy?" suddenly, it all clicked.

his heart, his mind, his fucking soul, everything made sense now. the pain, hydra, the mind washing, the torture.

meeting you. falling in love. dying?

his son.

he started walking closer to bucky before the steady walk turned into a run. bucky knelt down, wrapping the boy in his arms, cradling his tiny frame in his arms protectively. his son.

"cyrus james barnes," you said with a teary smile on your face. bucky, without breaking the hug with his son, looked up at you with a smile that matched yours. "cyrus means 'sun', and i thought it was fitting. he brought me so much light and hope after you..." you choked up before he stood up with cy in his arms, walking towards you before wrapping you in the big, family hug.

"i love you so much, both of you."

#bucky x reader #bucky barnes angst #bucky barnes #bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes fluff #james bucky barnes #marvel #sargeant barnes #bucky #sargeant james barnes #james bucky buchanan barnes #james barnes #bucky fanfic #bucky barnes hurt/comfort #bucky barnes imagine #bucky barnes whump #bucky x avenger!reader #bucky x fem!reader #dad!bucky

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augiewrites · 16 days

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"valley reverie" - sebastian

summary: the timeline of sebastian and the farmer’s relationship based on canon dialogue

pairing: sdv sebastian x farmer

word count: 2.5K

a/n: this may be my magnum opus

The sun was beginning its descent behind the mountains when Sebastian emerged from the house for the first—and only—time that day.

He shot a glance to his mother and Demetrius, who were standing at the edge of their property, looking over the valley bathed in golden light. His mother sent a small smile back, followed by a pointed disappointed look at the carton of cigarettes held loosely in his glance. Demetruis didn’t acknowledge his existence.

Sebastian knew it was a nasty habit, but he spent most of his life with not much thought to the future—he was surprised he made it this far. Maybe his life would have been different if he had planned better; if he had considered for a moment that there was such a thing as life past sixteen, then eighteen, then twenty-one. He supposed he should start to consider a life past twenty-four, but quickly dropped the thought as he placed the cigarette between his lips and continued his stroll to the lake.

He saw it then, as his lighter sparked to life and helped the cigarette take eleven minutes off his.

Someone was sitting in his spot. A humanoid blob of denim focused intently on the bobber floating in the water.

He hesitated, then decided to keep moving—his trajectory now locked in past the stranger and across the rickety planks of wood to the smaller islands in the middle of the lake. His mother had been saying for years that she needed to build something more structurally sound, but had yet to get around to it.

As he got closer, he took in more of the scene. There was a muddy bucket next to the stranger, and he noticed a couple slimy carp flopping around inside. Whoever this was, they clearly didn’t have enough experience to catch the tricker creatures in the lake.

Just as he was about to slip past toward solitude, he locked eyes with the stranger. Their bored expression quickly turned to worry.

“Sorry, am I in your spot? Robin said it was okay for me to fish here.”

Recognition sparked in his brain—his mother had told him about the new resident of Pelican Town. The words she had used to describe them flashed behind his eyes: sweet, a little lost, cute. That last one was sent his way with an exaggerated wink and met with a scoff from him.

“Oh. You just moved in, right? Cool.”

The farmer didn’t respond, just looked on waiting for an answer to their question. Sebastian didn’t gratify them with a response, instead looking across the lake at the tree line and abandoned quarry.

“Out of all the places you could live, you chose Pelican Town?”

The farmer scrunched up their mouth slightly, beginning to reel in their line. There was nothing but a limp worm dangling from the hook. Sebastian took note of the grieving look flashing on their face before it was gone in a blink.

“Better than where I was.”

Sebastian didn’t bother responding as the farmer heaved up the bucket—they were a lot stronger than they looked—and walked away without another word.

Robin smiled at the farmer with a wave and shouted goodnight before sending another disapproving look to her son.

_________________________________________

Sebastian heaved open the door of the house, exhausted from band practice. Sam was his best friend, and he enjoyed spending time with him more than he would admit, but the newest addition to the band was definitely a hindrance.

He didn’t dislike Abigail, and he couldn’t deny that she was a talented drummer, but he had been hoping for years that her little crush on him would fade away. He could only take so much of puppy dog eyes and over exaggerated laughter at his quips that definitely aren’t that funny.

He was so absorbed in his thoughts on how to shake off the purple-haired girl—more importantly, how to shake her off without actual confrontation—that he didn’t notice the farmer leaning against the shop counter until their voice pierced through. His mother was nowhere to be seen, so they had to have been talking to him.

“What? I didn't hear you...I'm busy thinking about something. What do you want?”

The farmer narrowed their eyes at him, leveling him with a glare. “You know, I get that you’d rather be listening to My Chemical Romance and jerking off to Nietzsche than interacting with a human being, but you really need to work on your people skills.”

Well, he hadn’t been expecting that.

He expected avoidance from the farmer, based on their first meeting and subsequent run-ins where they gave him a nod of acknowledgement before going back to acting like he didn’t exist.

He realized that the farmer wasn’t as timid and one-dimensional as he let himself think.

The moment was saved by Robin entering the shop room and dropping a workbench on the floor with a heavy thud. “You’ll make better use of this than I have lately—it’s pretty old,” she looked up from the dusty bench, noticing her son frozen in the doorway, “oh, hi Sebby.”

“Sebby?” the farmer questioned with a smirk.

Sebastian rolled his eyes, brushing past his mother to get to his lair.

“Sorry about him,” he heard his mother as he descended the stairs.

“It’s fine,” the farmer laughed, “he’s cool.”

He couldn’t help the smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. _________________________________________

Sebastian looked down at the frozen tear in his hand with a neutral expression on his face, though his heart was quickening its pace.

“Gunther told me it’s fabled to be the frozen tears of a yeti.”

He met the farmer’s grin with one of his own, “I really love this. How did you know?”

They shrugged, “Seemed like some emo shit you’d be into.”

A breathy laugh escaped him before he could stop it. “Well…thanks.”

“No prob. I’ll keep an eye out for more when I’m in the mines.”

“The mines?,” his brow furrowed, “how far down did you go?”

“Not super deep, I think I stopped at sixty since it was getting late.”

Sebastian gaped at the farmer—who he now realized he really misjudged—as they shouldered their backpack and turned toward the door.

“Oh,” they stopped just shy of the threshold, “your code is wrong, by the way. Third line down.”

He looked to the screen, baffled, seeing that there was, in fact, a mistake in his code.

He began to ask the farmer how they knew that, but they were gone. _________________________________________

The sun was setting on the valley, and Sebastian found himself sitting by the lake’s edge with the farmer, who was reeling in sturgeon and bass with ease.

“I’m sure the city’s different for other people, but it was corporate hell for me,” the farmer spoke softly as they baited their hook—it was different than any bait he had ever seen, and the farmer had informed him that the wild man living behind their house had taught them the recipe.

Sebastian hummed, “I guess that makes sense.”

“You guess?” the farmer teased him, flicking water at his face.

He blew a puff of smoke in their face.

The farmer coughed, then began to laugh as they fanned the smoke out of their face, “asshole.”

Sebastian grinned, leaning back on the palms of his hands and gazing across the water.

They sat in comfortable silence as the farmer cast out their line and half-heartedly focused on the bobber—they didn’t really need it anymore, but liked the safety net.

“You and Sam are probably my only friends in this town.” Sebastian broke the silence, but continued looking straight ahead.

“Well I am very likable.”

Sebastian knocked their shoulders together with a scoff.

“Sure, keep telling yourself that.” _________________________________________

Sebastian was indifferent—and sometimes loathful—toward most events held in their little town, but tonight was an exception. It was hard to not be in awe of the midnight jellies, and he was excited for the farmer to see them for the first time.

They were perched at the edge of the dock, along with Sam and Abigail, their feet dangling inches above the water.

It was a lot colder than expected, and the farmer was bundled in his black jacket. He couldn’t help but feel bad about the sad glances Abigail was sending their way.

The farmer looked content, and Sebastian recalled something they told him at the beginning of the season—the used to be terrified of the ocean before moving to the valley.

He nudged their shoulder with his own. It didn’t take much effort—they were sitting a lot closer than he realized. A light blush dusted his cheekbones.

“I thought I saw something moving in there…” he pointed to the void of the ocean and leaned closer to their ear, whispering, “something big, something dark.”

The farmer’s eyes widened as they looked across the vast darkness before they narrowed and turned to him.

“Just trying to scare you...” Sebastian laughed.

The farmer smiled, knocking their knee against his, muttering an all too familiar “asshole.”

It wasn’t too long before Lewis sent out the first lantern, and the water surrounding the docks was filled with glowing jellyfish.

“It’s beautiful,” the farmer breathed out as their head landed on his shoulder.

“Yeah,” his eyes landed on a glowing green jelly before looking down at the farmer, “it is.” _________________________________________

Sebastian never saw the farm in its full glory—before the farmer’s grandfather grew old and passed away—but he had been there plenty of times when it was overgrown and abandoned.

He had told the farmer this as they sat on the newly installed swinging bench on their porch. They joked that they would be suing him for trespassing, since it was technically their property at the time, even if they hadn’t known it.

It was a chilly fall day, but the farmer had made a pot of coffee to keep them warm.

“I thought this was your busy season,” Sebastian lit up a cigarette and moved the ashtray closer to where he sat. It was a newer addition to the farmer’s decor. He thought about the prideful look on their face as they held it up and told him that Leah let them use her pottery wheel. It was painted with little creatures that looked like the much happier cousins of the slimes living in the caves.

The farmer hummed, holding their mug close to their face, but not taking a sip, “Yeah…a lot busier than I thought it would be, actually.”

He grinned at them, “so, you’re slacking today, huh?”

The farmer laughed.

“I’d rather hang out with your sorry ass than work.” Despite the insult, the farmer’s tone was soft and earnest. Sebastian felt his cheeks heat up.

“Could you picture me living on a farm? It seems ridiculous, but I have been thinking about it lately.”

“If I could do it, then so could you,” the farmer linked their pinky with his, “it’s a lot more freeing than you’d think.” _________________________________________

Boxes filled with Sebastian’s things lined the walls of the farmhouse, but Sebastian and the farmer lay in bed, choosing to ignore them.

They had all the time in the world.

The farmer was twirling the pendant dangling from Sebastian’s neck, “there’s steam coming out of your ears, Seb,” the farmer giggled and smoothed out the wrinkle between his brows with their finger.

“I’ve just been thinking,” Sebastian turned his attention from the ceiling to the farmer, “The older I get, the less I'm drawn to the city. It had a certain mystique to it, once. But it turns out that was just a romantic fantasy. The city's so busy, so full of people... I don't belong there. I'm a loner.”

A beat.

“Present company excluded, of course.”

The farmer laughed, “Well I would hope so,” they tugged gently on the pendant, pulling him closer, “because you’re stuck with me.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer had joined his family for dinner, and his mother had shooed them away with one hand as she cooed at the bundle held tightly in her other arm.

The valley was coming to life, but the ghost of a winter chill was in the air. They settled down by the lake despite the cold. It was no longer his spot, but theirs.

The farmer was skipping stones across the lake when he grumbled about how being in that spot made him want a smoke.

“No one’s stopping you,” the farmer laughed.

“I am.”

The farmer still held a loose smile as they raised their eyebrows at him, “oh?”

“I'm trying my best to quit smoking now that we're married…” He avoided their gaze and brushed some mud on the palm of his hand onto his jeans, “I don't wanna die on you. It's a bad habit. I want to have a future together.”

A baby cried in the distance. Sebastian and the farmer smiled at each other. _________________________________________

The farmer was surprised to find Sebastian’s side of the bed empty when they woke up. It wasn’t a rare occasion, as they usually found Sebastian in the kitchen after a restless sleep, but he was nowhere to be found.

They couldn’t help but worry a little bit as they pulled on their boots and opened the screen door. They paused out of instinct to let the dog run out before them only to realize that the dog wasn’t hot on their heels like usual.

They had only gotten two steps onto the porch before a mass of fur and slobber crashed into their legs.

“Oh hello baby,” they cooed down at the dog as it rolled onto its back, breathing heavily out of excitement, “good morning stink.”

“Good morning to you too.”

The farmer was so caught up in giving the dog attention that they hadn’t noticed Sebastian leaning against the porch railing.

They straightened from their crouch, smiling at him as the dog whined from the loss of affection.

“I couldn’t fall back asleep, so I went ahead and fed the animals,” he pushed off the railing and took a few steps forward to fix a rogue piece of the farmer’s hair, “one less thing for you to do.”

“Thanks, Seb,” the farmer said softly, suddenly bashful, “I’m going to check on the pumpkins. Thought I could make some soup tonight if any of them are ripe.”

They took a few steps off the porch, “feel like being a country boy today? Or did you get your fix?”

He smiled, leaning his forearms against the railing, “I'll just watch you from here. I enjoy watching you.” _________________________________________

Sebastian and the farmer found themselves sitting on the porch swing once again. It was a mild summer evening, and he was looking on as a toddler played with the dog in the yard.

He tore his attention away from the rowdy scene in front of him to look at the farmer, who was curled up at his side reading a book. He felt his heart swell.

“This is so different from my old life, but I'm really starting to like it. I feel like I really belong here.”

The farmer looked up from the book in their lap, smiling.

“I don't often show it, but I'm really happy that I'm your husband. Marrying you was the best decision I ever made.”

#stardew sebastian #sdv sebastian #stardew valley #stardew farmer #sebastian x farmer #sebastian x reader #stardew valley fanfic #stardew valley fic #sdv sebastian x reader #sdv sebastian x farmer #sdv sebastian fic #farmer x sebastian

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diejager · 8 months

Text

Crow

Pairing: Monster TF 141 + Horangi & König x Eldritch horror!reader

Cw: blood, gore, canon-typical violence, injury, mutilation, tell me if I missed any. Wc: 1.9k

They hadn’t expected to have another specialist join them, none of them even knew what Price had in mind when he brought you in. You were normal in every way - as normal as a soldier could be - and unassuming under your dark clothes and gear. You smiled and waved when greeted, you took orders well and you spoke when spoken. You were like a ghost, there but also not there, invincible unless you made a sound or movement. Excluding all they saw in you, you were simply uncanny, with weird mannerisms and habits that made you seem inhuman - as inhuman as you could be to hybrids.

The only words Price had given them before you landed were: “They’re good at what they do, just don’t cause any trouble, understood?”

They were vague and as unassuming as you first seemed, like any warning for any person that could easily become annoyed or mad. Ghost certainly hadn’t put much thought into it as he should. Gaz had elbowed Soap in an attempt at reminding the werewolf to heed their captain’s words. Rudy and Alejandro wouldn’t have to worry, they knew and learned the limits of any man’s patience, smart and intuitive. Horangi was as weary as he would with any new addition, eyes narrowed in annoyance and curiosity. Unlike any of them, König hid any emotions from his stoic face, shoulders broad and back ramrod that emphasised his height and broadness, he couldn’t be sure if you would be easy to ignore or irritable.

Granted, they all had expectations for you since Price seemed so proud and confident when you first joined them, acting like a child given his dream, famished to have you by his side as professionals as possible. Yet here you were, normal looking, of average height and average weight, and simply there. Although there wasn’t anything inherently abnormal to you, the simple presence of your being made their hair stand on end. There wasn’t any reason to be so frightened or chilled about you, you hadn’t done anything deserving of such fear and suspicion, and Price trusted you with his life. If he trusted you, then the rest could, no? After all, dragons are the most protective of monsters.

As Price promised, you were good at what you did, never a flinch, never any hesitation, never a moment of weakness. You were too normal and good to be a human, especially not with the way corvids flocked to you. Ravens, crows, magpies and jackdaws followed you everywhere you went, simply standing or cawing around you as if you were a memener of their murder. Going to London would be dreadful with how many corvids called the British Isles their home, which - coincidentally - was where you lived.

All but Price had a hard time forming a bond with you, your eerie presence made it difficult to relax, and apparently, you knew it as well, since they had an equally difficult time finding you on the base. If you weren’t beating a sand-filled punching bag, you would be at the shooting range, and if you weren’t there, then you’d be somewhere on the roof of a structure, taking in the cool, stormy air of the UK with your bird friends.

You only smiled when they all blew up in cackles and jokes, never laughing with them or cracking your own jokes. Your voice never raised over a certain point, a murmur or a raspy growl. It was either human or inhuman to you. If Soap, Gaz and Rudy were having a hard time making you open up to them, then the rest would have an even harder time doing so. They were failing miserably.

That was until Soap caught an airy chuckle from you when he passed Price’s office, the older man having probably said something amusing to you which had you laughing. And as loud and rowdy the werewolf was, he couldn’t stop himself from telling the others, his excitement and enthusiasm bleeding into the rest. It had somehow made them more determined to bond with you, you were, after months of work, a permanent member of Task Force 141.

Unfortunately, the most they got were snorts and huffs, snorts from Ghost’s dark humour and huffs from Soap and Gaz’s poorly made-up jokes, theatrical performances of failures and defeat in the face of an unflinching and unusual being. Questions started piling up on Price’s desk, wanting to know if you were human, if you were a hybrid, if you were a monster, if you were even a living being seeing as you hadn’t taken a single breath or eaten (not that they’d seen you eat.).

“That’s classified, ” Price stopped their musing with two simple words. “Unless they tell you themselves, I don’t think it’s any of my business divulging that to anyone.”

Price’s secrecy and respect for you only sowed the seeds of curiosity and intrigue deeper. What had you hidden from them that was so classified that Price couldn’t tell them? Even Alejandro didn’t have the clearance to dive into your files - not that there were any. The question lingered in their minds, unanswered and famished for one: What were you?

Somehow they’d gotten separated from you, being caught under heavy fire from Russian ultranationalists and backed into a building with most exits blocked or surrounded by the enemy. They worried about you, being left to yourself in a situation like this one was dangerous for even the most skilled and wary soldier. Whereas they all had their backs, one watching for the other, you were alone. And whereas you had the possibility of using your powers of shifting - if you were a hybrid or monster, they still hadn’t found the answer to that question - they were in the confines of a restricted building, letting loose would either damage the already-damaged-building or become a danger to their own teammates.

Ghost’s fog was deadly. Soap could come under fire from them shooting. Gaz couldn’t fly freely in a tight place. Price’s fire could be devastating. Rudy couldn’t risk getting tired. Alejandro could be unknowingly shot by them. König was uncontrollable and unpredictable. Horangi was a danger to himself in the secret of darkness.

They were fucked, caught in a dire situation that could mean the end of them, but regret and panic wouldn’t be of any use to them, they had to concentrate and wait for backup.

“Backup from what, Price?!”

What could possibly reach them in time to support them? They were too far in for any help to arrive quickly enough. The closest naval ship was thousands of miles away, the closest ocean was hundreds of miles away and any military support even farther. What would they even be waiting for?

“Cap! We can’t-”

A scream shattered the skies, howls of pain and panic filling the once booming sound of foreign guns. The sound of bodies being broken and bones cracking brought their attention elsewhere. The Russians weren’t aiming at them anymore, shooting at something bigger and more dangerous than any of them. They were looking at a creature that picked them off one by one, the shadow of a monster covering the white snow. The fear in their eyes tainted the sky as their blood sullied the fresh snow, turning white into red and pink.

Whatever that was was dangerous. The ability to rip men apart and incite terror into well-trained and hardened soldiers was anything but amiable, safe and good. Their bodies were tense, muscles contracted to move at the flicker of movement from the monster outside the building. Their weapons aimed towards the entrance, fingers laying restlessly on the trigger and shoulder screwed with suspense as the screams and cries slowly died down to howling winds in the night.

Price raised a hand, holding them back from firing at the entity, they lowered their guns, following the captain as he walked towards the door. He hadn’t flinched or froze when clawed fingers gripped the wide opening, a giant, black hand cloaked with feathers. Another landed on the ground farther away, letting them see the blood staining the show, seeping from its fingers and dirty feathers. With a low rumble from the beast, it lowered its head to the doorway, where Price had stopped.

He smiled at the gigantic head of a crown, its black beak sharpened with pointed teeth, as black as its skin and feathers. An oval eye blinked at them, white as the snow and piercing as the cold. It sent chills down their spines, ready to jump away if it attacked, but Price patted the skin under its eye.

“Thank you,” Price spoke your name so reverently, thanking it - you - with a grateful smile and proud eyes.

That monster - it - was you, the unassuming, perfect and eerie human. You, who was always around corvids, were one yourself, albeit a gigantic, crooked version of a crow. You crooned at Price’s touch, soft and loving like he was. You moved away from the entrance and they left. It was as if they walked into another world, blood, bones and guts littered the ground, as if a cat had had its fun with something breakable. Ghost and König thrived in this scene, the blood and gore feeding them. Unlike the rest that either recoiled or stared off, preferring to look at your bird-like form than the ground.

In all your glory, you stood high and mightily, toppling over the trees by hundreds of metres. Covered head to toe in black skin and black, glistening feathers, you held your head high to look at the Russian field. Four horns curled over your head, sprouting from your crown and curling at the tip, they mimicked a crown of bone. Bones also grew from your back, the protrusion of your vertebrae growing along your back like a ridge, sharp and deadly, like the sharp-looking feathers that protected your back. If any of that were shocking then your second pair of wings would be frightening, an equally big pair of wings help support your weight on the ground, besides two legs, clawed perfectly to inflict lethal damage. And at the end of your back, a flared, serpentine tail with feathers curled upwards.

While Price acted with such ease and comfort around you, the rest simply couldn’t. If they were bothered by your presence before, now, after having shifted and showed your true skin, it grew tenfold, becoming unbearable and suffocating. You saw their discomfort, cooing at them before you shrunk, bone and feathers sinking back under your skin, your beak turning into the face they knew, but your white eyes remained. It was all knowing and powerful.

You were an Eldritch being, an all-knowing and powerful creature, perhaps one of the last horrors that lived. It made sense why Price was so trusting of you, believing you to be unable to betray them. Why he warned all of them to never stray into your hate and annoyance. Eldritch horrors, after all, were the strongest beings alive (if they could be called alive), old as aeons and unmoving by time. Dragons were second to them, the proud and respectable monsters knowing the worth of Eldritch creatures and respecting them.

Everything fell into place. It clicked, why everything was simply so. Perhaps, after knowing your secret, you’d open up to them, let them in your colossal and dark and unbeating heart.

Taglist: @saelkie @yeoldedumbslut

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otakuworks · 1 year

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❛ 𝐒𝐄𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 𝐋𝐀𝐓𝐄𝐑. reborn au

feat. Zhongli x Reincarnated!GN!Reader | PART I | wc. 4.6K

Based on 'See You In My 19th Life' | overview. this webtoon follows the story of a woman who can somehow remember all her past lives.

sum. after a sweet hello, your lips never found its way to say the bittersweet goodbye. because you knew you would always find your way back to him even if he won't recognize you in your renewable lives.

note. some scenes are purposely inaccurate to the canon lore

main.mlist genshin.mlist | xiao ver.

You first met him as Morax, a little child dragon you grew up discreetly meeting at a very convenient time of your day, never knowing what's stored for the two of you.

He first met you as Y/N who resides at the countryside near Mt. Tianheng in hopes to find new things to discover across the vast lands of Teyvat. And he did. He found you.

Young Morax found you crouched under an oak tree, the wind flowing with your otherworldly voice, enrapturing him in blissful comfort.

Perched in the tree branch, he listens intently and let himself melt in your grace. It wasn't the first time he finds you warbling a melodic tune, and each time he comes back to hear more from you, it's always a different song and it wouldn't cease to amaze him how much ditty you know.

He lost count on how often he'd fall asleep with your voice lulling him and wakes up feeling empty as the epilogue of his day is always spent without your presence.

Sometimes he wonders if you know he has been watching you, and if you do, why aren't you approaching him? No matter, young Morax doesn't intend to befriend with you.

But then one day...

"Hello! You must be the boy who likes to hear me sing by the tree."

He was caught red handed, perhaps he became distracted that he didn't realize he's been shamelessly stalking you. He couldn't stop his curiosity to follow you in your way home.

Not only he's been spying on you, now he sounds like a stalker. But you didn't suspect, there wasn't anything to be suspicious of anyway.

"H-Huh? H-How did you know?" He gotta commend you for your keen senses. He's the Dragon between the two of you, which means he's supposed to be the one who has sharper senses.

"You must be good at anything but hiding. I have known you've been following me, but I never get to see you up close, you're really majestic looking, by the way." You chuckled as his poor attempt of masking his flushed face at your compliment.

"I don't mind your company, in fact, I want to be friends with you."

Friends. What a foreign concept for young Morax.

He has heard of that term, it's common among mortals, but he's not a mortal. Does this 'friend' term stretches to immortals like him as well? If so, then he has no reason to refuse.

Says the person who one minute ago thought of every alternative ways to stay out of your way.

He was skeptical at your optimism, most mortals would be astounded at his appearance and try to persuade him to spill whatever secrets he has, but as he got to know you better, he was a bit guilty to categorize you as one of them.

His horns and inhumane features? Young Morax found out you're only fascinated by his unique physical looks. And never doubted it.

"Cool! You have horns just like our boars, where did you get those? Can I touch them?"

"Did you just compare my horns to a pig? Pigs don't even have horns! How disgraceful!"

The sparkle in your eyes quickly died down as it came, and the young Morax feels tight in his chest just seeing your smile turns into a frown. You insulted his pride though!

You mumbled a meek apology but still kept your sheepish smile, a glimmer of hope that one day he'd let you do it.

The next days were spent by you sneaking out your house every midnight to meet up with the dragon, Morax. He's slightly skittish, oddly resembling him that of a cat, which is cute.

You probably shouldn't be calling a literal Dragon cute, legends depicted them as tyrannical creatures who seek treasures.

Ah! Classic children's story to scare the kids away at night, it did affect you in some way.

But you can't help it when he would eagerly look at you whenever he asks you to sing him a song.

You'd sit side by side under the tree, you have to admit he'd either falls asleep amidst your song or asks you for the lyrics so he can sing it to himself too.

You even dedicated a song that lets a certain flower bloom.

"Glaze Lily? What's that?" Young Morax asked with tilted head.

A smile outstretched your lips, "Beautiful, right? It transforms the memories of the land into its fragrance during florescence."

"Really?! Is that why you're always out in the dark?" You chuckled sheepishly, feigning ignorance, "Don't know what you're talking."

You got to know each other, held hands like innocent children, share what little knowledge your pea sized brain can, hug whenever one seeks comfort, eat under the glistening sun.

Morax is... a sensitive individual, albeit rough around the edges, but he's young and still learning, and you're unbelievably patient with his attitude— a quirk from you that he greatly appreciates.

From that, young Morax grew fond of you and it isn't one sided.

He flies by the same tree and gives you random things he finds magnificent, whether it could be a rock he found by the lake or a rare item that no one has ever discovered before.

Well, the legend wasn't lying about Dragons and treasure, for sure

You'd laugh at the strangest things he discovers but accepted them nonetheless. Every object he gives you is worth something.

This has been part of your routine for days, weeks, months, even years maybe. You don't know how much time has gone by whenever you're with him and you never bothered to count.

Before you know it, the two of you are almost in young adulthood, he grew up to be a fine man, much unlike you were expecting. Nothing changed from your friendship, until now.

You were taken by surprise when he suddenly blurted out one day

"I want to show you what I see from up there one day, Y/N."

He gazes at you much differently when he looks at you when you were younger. There's a glint of promise in his eyes that you can't pinpoint, it sent shivers all over your nerves.

"You can just fly me up there, Morax. I'm sure I'm not heavy." You muster a smile in an attempt to ease your quickening heartbeats.

He never gave a reply, he only stared at you so intensely that it feels like he's poking your deepest and innermost thoughts.

The way he stares at you never fails to summon the tickling butterflies in your stomach and the blood on your cheeks. You merely regarded that as your hormones, anyone would be flustered if someone they're close to stare at them like that.

You should've known better that nothing in your world stays permanent. The only thing you remember after that day was his twisted look of desperation to keep you alive and tear stained amber dyes trying to get the last image of you in his memories.

"N-No... Y/N please stay with me. D-Don't leave m-me just yet." It hurts you more than the numbing pain in your abdomen to see him broke down like a cornered prey. So helpless and vulnerable.

"I-I'll always be w-with you, Morax..."

So cruel, just when you've begun to realize the burgeoning feelings you have for the Dragon, fate took you away before you have the chance to confess.

Should you be selfish to confess your feelings to him? If you do, it seems like you'll be punishing him an endless torture ahead, and you would never wish Morax to suffer for eternity.

You only smiled and caressed his horns, even in your deathbed you're glad you died in the arms of the man you ever loved.

At the last moment, you heard the anguished wail erupts from his throat as he clutches your form closer, begging and crying for you to come back, to not leave him like this, that he needed you, that he loves you. His pleas fell on deaf ears, for you weren’t there to hear him anymore.

But it became clear to you that he reciprocated your love.

It came a shocking twist when you opened your eyes you can hear multiple cooing sounds from around you. Didn't I die in his arms? Where am I? Turns out, you were reborn. But not as Y/N anymore and you were given a surname.

Unfortunately, the Celestia isn't so forgiving. You were suffering from an unknown illness that took away your second life at such a young age.

You trained hard and learned martial arts in your third life as you were born from a family whose tradition is to produce well-trained warriors in the future.

Fourth to eight life came by like a blur, there were times when you get to lived as an innocent child only for it to be ripped away a few years later with your past memories resurfacing.

You stopped counting after it hits a dozen, born in different class, society and unnamed nation. There's no point of it.

All you want is to look for Morax, but will he remember you? Will he even recognize you as Y/N? You're no longer the kid he grew fond of. No, you're much different than before.

What about him? Decades have past, does he still know of your name? You could've been a fragment of his childhood that he dare not talk about with his new friends.

Will I make your life more difficult by trying to reconnect with you, Morax?

Those thoughts haunted you for nights, often occuring in your dreams.

But what can you do, you're so far away from Mt. Tianheng, you don't even know if the village you lived in still exists nor do you know if Morax still visits the tree you first met.

Even if you did meet him in your new life, you ought to stay as acquaintances.

Aiding him in the shadows and lessening his burdens within your power.

In your hundredth life, all of your training in your third life is proven useful at the moment. You're known as the infamous warrior with no name that took down the monsters around Teyvat, you were revered to the people in the Guili Assembly.

War is threatening to wage amongst Gods and mortals alike.

When it came, no one is safe in and out of the battlefield. To survive they must fight tooth and nail, paint the lands in sea of red and play the game of thrones.

It was gratuitously morbid, gruesome and unjust. A macabre of series of deaths surrounded your every wake, your hundredth life is the epitome of a living nightmare. Horrifyingly memorable.

You were at the sidelines, watching as the war unfold, keeping tabs on Morax's allies and eradicating whatever threat they face.

That's when you came across the stunning Goddess Guizhong, the Ruler of Clouds, Goddess of Dust. A very close companion of Morax whom he met at the Guili Assembly along with the others.

She's capable and quick-witted, a type of peculiar person Morax wouldn't hesitate to be friends with.

As of the moment, a claymore is alarmingly closing its gap towards her, ready to slice her open.

Then you heard him scream, a cry of a man who's about to lose everything he has gained of.

That cry sent flashbacks of his tear-stained cheeks. No, you don't want to see him like that again! You'd do anything to chase away that vulnerable image of Morax, he deserves happiness and love.

Your feet went autopilot and swept away the Goddess out of the way, severing your lower limbs in the process and instantly killing you. Your eyes opened and you have started your new life.

Was Morax relieve that Guizhong lived? Did he wonder why a stranger would save her? Did he ever ask who you were? Did he... recognize you at the very least?

Your new parents panicked as they tried to appease the crying infant in their arms. Unbeknownst to your pained heart.

You saw for a brief moment before your demise how Guizhong's plausible absence will affect him. He will mourn her death as much as he lamented yours. For decades or centuries, you know he has been scarred by your passing.

You don't want him to go through that again. It's a different pain you feel when you see him tearing up, you rather get minced by a claymore than to watch him break down.

He garnered the reputation of a tyrant— but you knew better that Morax grew up with compassionate heart, he appreciates anyone no matter how insignificant they think they are.

Which is why you hold yourself from meeting him. He may not remember you, but he will certainly get attached to you once you had your way to his heart.

And a dragon who can outlive you in any lives will only suffer more from your death.

You dedicated your lives in living peacefully, learning history and new things as humanity evolves.

You vow to never fall in love if it isn't Morax you'll spend your mortal life with.

Even if he has someone he can fall in love with.

"Have you heard about the land Lord Morax and Lady Guizhong are building in Mt. Tianheng?" Gossips are everywhere about the infamous partners who survived the Archon War, there's no mouth that has not utter their names, and you're no exception.

A grin spreads over your lips as you sip your tea with elegance, "I've heard, I haven't seen them in person but the rumors about them guaranteed they're ambitious people with good hearts."

This has been a hobby you never knew; praising Morax to elate people's opinion about him. It's your small contribution to his flourishing nation.

You want people to love and respect Morax dearly just as you loved him in your childhood.

You prayed to the new Archons for Morax to find someone he can love and lean on. Someone that can be his source of strength to keep living. Someone much better than leaving him with death.

Now that he found someone he can be with, your goal in your next lives is to protect Liyue's history.

From the names of ancient relics and objects, war waged by the Gods, Nations that were built underneath the once blood soaked lands, fallen heroes who are forgotten— you know all of them. You're openly willing to offer tutelage to the inquisitive.

You sighed at the thought, it certainly will be lonely in your part. Immortal gods can still die— a death in which they'd leave their memories behind and start anew. Morax will eventually cease to existence with lovable Nation and Guizhong to remember him.

And you? Countless past lives yet you never found true happiness, and none of them was worth to remember for anyone.

Part of you feels happy for Morax finally moving on from your death eons ago, but you're still human so you're susceptible to those horrible impulses of bitterness at a basic level.

But you don't want to be a person who looks at Guizhong with jaundiced eyes just because you couldn't have Morax, so you suck it up and move on the fact Morax is in love with another.

At least my sacrifice isn't a total waste.

"Aren't they? I've met Lady Guizhong, she's such a beautiful and soft spoken woman. She and the Lord of Geo are a perfect match. I wish the two of them eternal blessings."

A tug at your heart left an unpleasant feeling, your brain tried to reason that at least he's with someone that'll love him more than you did. That can appease your bitter aching heart a bit.

How ironic. You built a nation where you first met me.

And showed her what you can see up there like you promised me.

Is that how you honor my death, Morax?

"Wow! You sure do know many things, Y/N!" The floating emergency food expressed her awe in your display of knowledge and the traveller couldn't agree more with her, "She's right, you never cease to surprise us."

Their exclaims were followed by your enchanting laugh, "I'm glad I can be at your service, Honory Knight."

You were simply ethereal to look at, you maybe a mortal like the traveller but the Blondie thinks otherwise.

Paimon and her travelling buddy met you by the Starnach Cliff when they were attempting to subdue Dvalin. Jean and Diluc already know you're part of the Adventurer's Guild as you often visit Mondstadt from time to time.

They didn't expect you to join them in their excursion in Stormterror's Lair, it turns out you're a great addition to the team.

You befriended with the traveller after the whole Stormterror fiasco and catch up with Kaeya.

You don't stand out the most in the crowd, you can blend in with everyone and no one would acknowledge your existence. But the traveller can sense the weight of the wisdom you withhold.

It almost feels like you're one of the Seven...

"Is there something else I can help you with, Traveller?"

"Huh?! Oh... I— Uhh... You've been telling us stories and fun facts about Mondstadt. If you don't mind, can you tell us about Liyue?"

For an ephemeral moment, the traveller saw your facade crumbles and slowly morphed into a nostalgic expression.

"Hmm. I'll tell you a quick introduction. Liyue is built in Mt. Tianheng after the Lord of Geo attained one of seven seats, unlike the Anemo Archon who's known to not show himself, he descends down once a year to give blessings to the people of Liyue."

"Exactly how Venti told us, but more detailed."

"He sounds a lot more of a decent God than Tone-Deaf Bard."

Her statement elicited a quiet snicker from you, "I'll be off then, I'll see you around soon." Paimon's expression deflated, "You're not coming with us?"

You shake your head, "I'll visit you when I can, until then I hope for your safe travels."

You forced a smile and took a different path from the traveller, as their figures disappear in the horizon, you felt your smile slip up as the sun whisks past the mountains turning to dusk.

Solitude in the dark has been part of your daily routine, you come and go whenever you feel like it, not knowing when to return.

The excuse you told to Paimon isn't entirely a lie, you couldn't bring yourself to go in Liyue when there's active Fatui agents scattered around the vicinity.

Let's just say you're not in good terms with the Fatui. Who isn't?

Nevertheless, whatever curse you have continued to persist in your thousandth life. You roamed around Teyvat and tell stories that even historians don't know.

Repeated lives were lived by just you traversing in each corners of Teyvat that even Archons never knew it existed.

Along the way, you've come terms with your feelings and settled it down like a dormant volcano. Morax is your first love, you enjoyed reminiscing the memories you made with him, you keep those memories locked up in the depths of your mind and often recount them in particular leisure time of the day.

You still love him, and you'll always be by his side whenever he needs a helping hand, but enough is enough, you've suffered enough to your own idiocy and fears. It's time to move on.

Morax continued to strive forward because he has changed, for the better of course. If you want to continue living the next lives of yours then you need to change too.

You met new friends and companions that you begin to trust and have fun with, the traveller and the emergency food included. It wasn't lonely as you thought it would be.

Sometimes you wonder why do you have such curse bestowed upon you. Did the Celestia punish you for a crime? Did you touch a forbidden relic in your first life? Is there a way to get rid of it?

You stopped in your tracks and you gaze up in the sky.

Am I the only one with such curse?

Damn, you really need to get your priorities straight when you have so many unanswered questions.

Basking the remnants of the ever glowing star, you turn around to walk the path that leads you to the Land of Eternity.

A new journey awaits you as you skid through the mycelium path.

Rex Lapis has died.

What a year starting with the news of a tragic death of an Archon.

Fret not Liyue citizens, Rex Lapis assumed the form of Zhongli as a consultant in the Wangsheng Funeral Parlor. In all honesty, he thinks you would facepalm on how poorly delivered that news was.

Zhongli now blends in with the mortals, often strolling to acknowledge the accomplishments he has done as an Archon.

There were too many sacrifices he made just to achieve such title and godly powers. It's uncountable.

Whenever he strolls down the streets of Liyue, there's never a day that he is not reminded of the fact Mt. Tianheng is the very foundation of Liyue. It serves as a reminder that you are his pillar when intrusive thoughts start to linger in his mind.

Oftentimes, your face is only a blur in his memory, no matter what he does he can't seem to remember your face, but your name has been engraved on his mind for eons.

He misses hearing the sound of your name leaving his lips. He misses how ignorant you both were to the world's suffering. He misses your mesmerizing voice that lulls him to sleep.

Whoever fellow Archon listening to his complex thoughts must have heard him and granted his not-so-impossible wish.

"Hey look. Doesn't that sound like a story Y/N has told us before?" A child(e)— no, a floating fae pointed at the storyteller.

But Zhongli couldn't care less about whoever she was pointing. Did he hear her right? Was it just his ears deceiving him?

Y/N... that's your name.

That's the name he longed to hear again.

Why in the seven nations of Teyvat would they mention your name? Is it just a coincidence that someone has the same name as you? No, that couldn't be it.

Something flared inside him, it's been awhile since he felt this excitement, it's not far fetched when he became your friend.

With no recollection, he became friends with the traveller and the emergency food floating companion.

When he asks them about you, an array of hope filled his entire being and he swore his Dragon feature almost burst into existence

Y/N L/N, a member of the Adventurer's Guild, he's certain you've been in Liyue if you know about its rich culture.

But where are you? He wants to go find you. Hug you like when you were kids. Sing him songs. Bring you random things he can find. Speak the words that were left unspoken when you died.

So many questions brooding his mind; are you really Y/N? If so, were you reincarnated? Does that mean you don't remember him?

The elation he felt dropped. Right... he shouldn't be disappointed if it turns out his hunch is wrong. Even if you're not the Y/N he was expecting, he wants to know you as who you are and not compare the similarities and differences you have with the Y/N he knows.

"Oh yeah, Y/N mentioned they'll be visiting Liyue soon, Mr. Zhongli." The Traveler quipped, assessing the abrupt change of emotions on the consultant's face at the mention of your name.

Paimon and her travelling buddy can't help to wonder if you two are acquaintances, or perhaps something more than that. Zhongli seems to be expecting your arrival from now on.

"Is that so? Thank you for informing me, Traveler. I shall see to it that their stay will be comfortable." He smiled.

Stay in what? In the Funeral Parlor? The Traveler sweat drop while Paimon is tempted to point out that's Verr Goldet's job. Good thing their companion put a hand on her mouth and excuse themselves

There's no time to stall! He thought.

He's determined to check it himself, it can go two ways and Zhongli won't be petulant of the result.

Archons forbid if he ever finds you, because he will not let you go.

>> PART 2

©OTAKUWORKS | 2022

#zhongli #genshin impact #genshin zhongli #genshin angst #zhongli x reader #zhongli angst #morax #see you in my 19th life #webtoon #crossover #genshin crossover #zhongli fic #genshin impact angst #reborn au

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mimymomo · 2 years

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In ‘Lucas on the Line,’ Lucas Sinclair experienced countless bouts of racism and micro aggressions including but not limited to:

Had children run away from him and refuse to touch him because they thought his Black skin color would rub off on them. This happened IN THE THIRD GRADE! And he never told his parents about it!

Calmed his anxiety about being the only Black kid in his homeroom class by coming to the realization that since there was no other Black kids that meant he most likely wouldn’t be bombed

Had to install a camera in his locker because his property got defaced by a glitter bomb

Lost his first and only black friend/mentor who supported him thanks to an ACTUAL MAKESHIFT BOMB being installed in his locker that caused a janitor to go to the hospital for 1st/2nd degree burns (and the white boy who did it barely got punished)

Got teased that the only reason he got on the basketball team was because he was Black

Comes to the realization that he might’ve actually only gotten in the team because the coach has a history of recruiting Black boys for the team regardless of their skill level

Gets called an Oreo (for uneducated: white on the inside, black on the outside) by racist bullies. Erica (who apparently has also been called this) sticks up for him and is the only one who understands what the insult means which means Mike and Dustin don’t know/understand the lengths of how deep the racism Lucas experiences in Hawkins on a daily bases

And these aren’t even all of them! These are just examples I had from the top of my head!

And despite all this happening in the book, “fans” have STILL FOUND A WAY to turn this book about Lucas and his struggles as a Black boy in a mostly white suburban town and his deteriorating relationship with Max and make it about Byler!

The fact that Lucas, one of the only characters of color on this show, can’t have ANYTHING to himself without people using him to push their ships is so aggravating!

He and Erica constantly get shit talked and miss characterized by fans, get excluded/cut out of group shots, and barely get any fanart/fics about them and their struggles compared to the white characters (I could make a whole new post about the terrible way this fandom treats Erica but I won’t do that here). Hell don’t forget that the fandom constantly tries to dispute the racism Lucas received in S2 from Billy was either not really racism, just a moment that Duffer Bros. put in to “ruin” Billy’s character and ultimately can be tossed out and ignored.

The only time I ever see Lucas get any large amount of attention is either due to 1) Lumax (but let’s be honest: 90% of the lumax tag on here isn’t even about them and has now become Elumax 2.0 and most post are people praising ElMax and then being like “oh Lucas/lumax is cute too” in the tags and that’s it). 2) people creating “parallels” of Lumax to their ship of choice (mostly Byler and Mileven) as a way to say that their ship is gonna be canon or 3) to say that he’s bisexual.

And all that is fine and whatever, ship and headcanon things to your hearts content, but if you only care about Lucas if he’s helping push you ship narrative or because you think he’s gay (to the point where some people actually read snippets of the book that talked about Lucas coming to the realization that Black boys like him can be considered attractive and only acknowledge the “queer” reading of the text and completely ignored the big race element that was the main focus), I’m sorry but, that’s not cool. The fact that 95% of the Lucas Sinclair tag isn’t about Lucas himself but white characters like Steve, Eddie, Byler says everything about how the fandom treats him.

I’m just so tired.

Lucas Sinclair deserves the same respect that the white characters get!

I leave you one of my favorite sections of the entire book: Lucas learning to become unabashedly himself:

Rant over.

Edit: in my blind rage I realized I forgot to edit out the Twitter handle. That’s completely my fault. Please don’t hate that Twitter user. I’m just coming back to fix that.

#stranger things #stranger things spoilers #lucas sinclair #lucas on the line #st season 4 #you know what? I AM gonna tag all the popular ships #if you clog the Lucas/lumax tags I’m gonna clog yours #Byler #steddie #mileven #steve harrington #eddie munson #will byers #mike wheeler #Lucas Sinclair deserves better #also stan lumax for clear skin

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lovelybrooke · 2 months

Note

I’m the topic of Adam, right sera would realistically go down to earth just to spend time with the reader. (This is based on another ask)

Spoilers for those who didn’t finish the series :)

I know it isn’t canon but imagine Adam wasn’t stabbed by nifty and he managed to survive. I feel like Adam would FINALLY get the chance to speak to the reader, constantly going down to earth to talk to the reader, nitpick all the things he doesn’t like about their friends and family, consistently encouraging them to make time for him even though as it is he’s on earth more than he needs to be and so on. I think this might be an unpleasant time for the reader.

I've seen a lot of people headcanon that since Sir Pentious, a demon, could be redeemed, then Adam, an Angel, could be sent to hell. That would be super cool to see, but I wouldn't count on it.

Anyway, I could totally see Adam getting super giddy once reader goes back to Earth because now he finally has a real opportunity to meet you. Like, he knows Sera probably wouldn't like it, but what is she gonna do, she also goes to Earth to keep an eye on you all the time. But unlike her, she actually has the balls to confront you.

I don't think he'd be the type of person to lie about who he is, even though he realistically should since you witnessed him nearly kill all your friends. He doesn't see a point of doing so, and just welcome himself into your life like a wrecking ball. Of course, he disguises himself, he's not stupid, but that's more so he can go out in public with you and not get stared at.

Unlike a lot of the other male characters in hazbin, who recognize readers poor home life and lack of a father and attempt to become that fatherly figure in their life, Adam couldn't care less. He doesn't have a reason to become your father, he doesn't need to go through that again. That doesn't stop everyone in your life from mistaking him as your dad though.

"Oh my god (Y/n), when did your dad show up? I thought he was a deadbeat."

"Not my dad..."

You thought he came back to Earth to kill you, but instead he just lounges around, eats your food, and nitpick every aspect of your life. He makes a lot of comments about your mom that makes you anxious, why you don't move out, why does she sleep so much, do you want me to kill her? You adamantly refuse, and you hide all the knifes in the house. He also urge you to gossip about your friends at school, and gets mad at your expense when you describe anything relating to bullying.

Regardless, Adam spends a lot of time with you on Earth. It's a way to get off work, its of way to piss off Sera, and it's something he can rub in those idiot demons faces when the time is right.

#yandere x reader #soft yandere #platonic yandere #hazbin hotel x reader #hazbin hotel #platonic yandere hazbin hotel #yandere hazbin hotel

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isaegi · 7 months

Text

CRAVINGS

feat. gojo satoru x reader (gn)

includes: canon divergence (au), pining gojo teehee, fluff, strangers (gojo is a persistent customer at your workplace, absolutely does NOT let up) to hinted luvers mwahaha, JUST SO FLUFFY GOJOS SO DNJAUDSHUFAEK :((

A/N: absolutely have to share this drabble/headcanon idea that has been plaguing my thoughts for the past few weeks with you guys. definitely have thoughts of turning this into a proper fic

MEET CUTE (but it turns ???) with Gojo Satoru who slowly becomes your diner’s most regular customer— and it all whittles down because of you.

It all starts when Gojo bursts in through the diner's entrance during your closing shift while his best buddy, Geto, is waiting for him in his old man's car. The engine runs loud and persistent, and you can practically feel the base of music from his car thumping from where you stood behind the counter.

Despite there being literally no one else in the restaurant save for a couple of employees cleaning down tables for the night, Gojo still has the audacity to open his mouth and ask, "You guys still open?"

"Gojo, there's 5 minutes until closing." You hear your supervisor, Utahime, grit from behind clenched teeth. Her face most likely contorted into a forced smile, you're sure. "You can come back tomorrow at a more appropriate hour."

"Come on, Utahimeee~" you hear the white-haired male groan, ignoring her quick remark for him not to call her by her first name so casually. "Throw me a bone here; it'll be quick I promise."

"The chefs are already packed up and heading out for the night," she throws over her shoulder, "and I suggest that you and geto go do the same." With that, Utahime's already swiftly turning on her heel to make a sharp beeline toward her office stationed beside the kitchen.

Honestly, you feel kind of bad for the guy. But it seems like this isn't his first incident of walking into the Iori's family business just minutes before closing.

Now it’s just you, that tall— stupidly attractive— stranger and the sound of the door creaking shut behind Utahime that accompanies the silence that hangs in the room that you both share. Despite being turned away, Gojo had yet to turn and head back out into the vacant parking lot— save for his car and Geto who is still waiting for him in it.

Blue eyes soft with confusion paired with pink, pouty glossed lips graced his face. If Utahime wasn't gonna throw him a bone, you might as well. Besides, the sooner you send him on his way with whatever he came here for, the better. You wouldn't wanna have to stick around for when Utahime comes back into the dining area to chew him out.

"What were you looking for, specifically?" you pipe up from the counter. "If it's anything from the display I'm sure I can just throw it in a to-go container for you."

Gojo flicks his attention away from Utahime's office door to you. You can't quite place your finger on the emotions he's wearing, but the face of pure disbelief is one that automatically strikes you.

"You serious?"

You nod, already shifting your attention away from his starstruck gaze to head toward the dessert display. It's only a small gesture of kindness that you'll be contributing, nothing too grand. So, it's no biggie. "As long as word doesn't get back to her, it should be fine."

Just hand him whatever and send him on his way. It'll be a one-time thing.

"Tell on you to her?" Gojo joins you on the other side of the display case, eyeing you through the glass when you bend down to unlock the sliding door. "I could never."

You drag your eyes away from the display up to his face, only to find that he's already staring at you. Okay, cool! You bite down a yelp and suppress the strangled noise with a cough. "So, which one would you like?"

Again, Gojo's face is unreadable, but you watch how his eyes trail along your face, drinking you in. Almost as if he were to blink, you'd disappear right before his very eyes. And with how close he is you can really see it. Really take in how pretty this man is.

After what feels like forever in a matter of mere seconds, Gojo's gaze finally flits down to your hand awkwardly hovering over a sad-looking piece of purin. "I'll take that one," he says, nodding his head toward the custard.

You blink. "Oh—" You clear your throat. Out of all the different pastries on the shelves, he chooses that one? "Okay..."

You reach for one of the plastic containers stationed under the display counter and peel the packaging open. Grabbing one of the tongs, you reach for the purin and slowly yet surely make your way to plop its contents into the container for this man.

Everything was going peachy until the moment a part of the custard grazed the thumb of where you were holding the container— effectively ruining a bit of its circular shape.

"Shit." You curse, immediately flicking away the caramel that grazed your finger. You pray and hope and pray to whatever higher power that he wasn't watching this whole ordeal go down. You shoot him a quick glance to confirm your suspicions.

He's still watching you.

You ignore his breathless chuckle at you, and in turn you choose to watch as he reaches for his back pocket for his wallet. "How much do I owe you?"

"Don't worry about it. It would've been tossed anyway," you assure, waving your hands to further drive home the point to him that there was no need to pay. You loved Utahime, but you absolutely did not want her grilling you tomorrow as to why your till was off, despite you dropping the entirety of your money the night prior.

"How about I—"

"By the time I step out here Gojo you better be gone! We're! Closed!" You hear your supervisor shout from the back.

The sigh Gojo heaves is one riddled with exhaustion and disappointment. Yet, he doesn't let the easy smile resting on his lips slip for a second.

"Thank you," he breathes, he lifts his hand— the one holding his dessert— and shakes it for emphasis as to what he was thanking you for. Still facing you Gojo takes a step back, "See you again, yeah?"

And he stands there. Waiting with his head tilted to the side, hand still pressed against the entrance door's handle.

You freeze like a deer caught in headlights. He's fucking waiting for you to respond. "Oh, uhm," you feel your face warm under the intensity of his gaze. "I guess?" What are the chances that you do see him again though?

Satisfied with your answer, Gojo nods. He backs out of the restaurant, humming an incessant tune under his breath as he trots back to his car.

Ever since that day— much to Utahime's utter confusion and exasperation— Gojo has been making more frequent visits to the diner. And with his visits came questions of where you were, if you still worked there, how you've been. So on and so forth.

Despite you telling him numerous times, that there's no need for him to pay back the favour, gojo still swings by. He still drops in and sits right in your section. Still acts like he doesn't no what's "good" from the menu and what's not. And still asks you for your recommendations whenever you do wind up having to take his order.

Coworkers of yours giggle, blush and squeal over to you whenever they are also encountered with the remarkable beauty and divinity that is Gojo Satoru. Their hushed whispers whenever they see him walk past the diner's doors. Their dejected whines when they realize he's walking out of their sections and slipping into the booth toward the back. Slipping his lanky, lean body into your section's booth.

It's like he can't let you out of his sight for long, because he craves the occurrence of running into you too much. He keeps coming back in hopes to be more familiar with you, and you with him.

HOPING THIS HEADCANON GOT YALL CRAZY LIKE I... HE'S SOFKJSDSRFKL :')) he deserves anything and everything. so this will most certainly be expanded on in a fuller fic with much more depth and nuance <333

just had to get this word vomit out! i hope u enjoyed :))) please let me know ur thoughts!

#gojo x reader #gojo satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jjk x reader #gojo x you #satoru x reader #satoru gojo x reader #gojo fluff #jjk fluff #isaegi #i am SO gonna bring this to life #it is in the drafts #OH I LOVE YOU FOREVER SATORU <333 :(

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ay0nha · 7 months

Note

This world needs sanji ANGST...i haven't seen anything like that that isn't immediatley fluff so plz plz plz do angst OR maybe enemies to lovers but reeealll enemies ther'es gotta be beeeffff

tension. jealousy. protectivness. what the hell. where is it.

thank u :3

Pairing: opla!Sanji x f!reader

Word Count: 1.3K

Warnings: canon-typical things, smoking, cursing, the Baratie, mentions of annoying/handsy costumers, RUSHED ending (sorry), etc.

A/N: Hello anon! Thank you so much for the request. I started a little sm sm based of this request and a couple similar ones. It's just a start, so let me know if I should turn this into something more/longer...I have ideas...COMMENTS ENCOURAGED. Enjoy.

PART II

You always preferred sailing on quiet nights.

Fewer lights from the ship scared the stars into submission. It was the only time your shoulders settled and your breaths became leveled. The air’s humidity wrapped you in warmth and the patterned waves lulled your racing thoughts.

Yet, the lights of the Baratie reminded you that those idyllic nights remained only in memory, few and far between. The chatter radiated an aura, which functioned as a reminder of the never ending responsibilities of hospitality.

Your dwindling cigarette marked the time left of your break, but you savored every second. You slouched into your shoulder, head resting softly to the side to acknowledge the footsteps approaching you.

“Sanji.” Even with your back to your newly found company, you knew who had found you. He always had. “If Zeff sent you…” You drew in a deep and finalizing breath, the crackle satisfying in contrast. “Turn around and fuck off.”

The breath of his laughter exposed his delight at your demise. “Your funeral—

“—Our.” You corrected him. Finally offering a glance, you saw he’d replaced his apron for a tie. Always trouble, you thought.

“Nah, you’ll be alright…” He tutted with humor. “Regardless, who can I count on to spit on my grave?”

You hummed to hide a semblance of a smile. Sanji’s charm was worthless to you, never working in his favor. It had taken years of coaxing past vindication to even occupy the same space. So as always, you’d removed yourself to create a more familiar distance.

“Funny.” You only ever entertained him with sarcasm. Flicking your butt into the darkness, you began to walk away. “Just don’t get in the way.”

The night was busy—every night was busy. You hadn’t minded the adrenaline or the late hours. It was what kept you going, kept you from realizing that slowing down would never be an option.

But then the constantly spinning world stopped. Your wrist was caught in the hand of a guest, the very one whose crude remarks failed to cause a reaction. However, your plastered smile only encouraged him. You became a challenge he hadn’t realized would eventually retaliate.

It caused a scene, glass to be broken, and scolding from Zeff that echoed throughout the kitchen. Your pent up venom led you to an ultimatum; cool off or leave. Now, your headache dulled in comparison to the nausea you felt walking back in.

Hearing your name you turned to see Sanji’s face illuminated with his lighter. His eyes were fixed on his task, but you knew he was speaking directly to you. “You’re alright, though? Right?”

It was happening more frequently than you’d like to admit; your sarcastic insult caught in your throat and your breath pinned to the roof of your mouth. Your words were lost. Sanji was responsible for the confusion of feelings and it only furthered your resentment.

Yet, your voice was never found and so you nodded with promise.

Instead, your wrist throbbed and you were sure by the end of the service the bruising would surface. But you rolled it as if the action could wash away the pain. You straightened your posture, pulled a practiced smile, and held a soft air as you began again greeting guests table by table.

The people dining waited their turn just as those rubbing elbows with them. From the decor, the crystal, story of the menu, even you were a part of the experience. Performance was key and you were nothing but stellar at pretending to be someone else.

“Good evening—” You greeted. Your voice could have been mistaken for sultry. Some nights you struggled to recognize yourself. “—I’ve noticed you’re back and your wine is getting low.”

“Always attentive, you.” The Baratie regular reveled in the banter. It was formulaic at this point, but the atmosphere captivated you both.

“I can’t help but play favorites.” You countered, granting a heavy pour of wine into his glass. Your dress cut low, ever dip intentional to distract from the mountain of Berries owed for the aged wine provided.

His eyes took in your figure, falling into the trap. “Apparently, I’ve got competition.”

You wanted to feel good, as you normally did. The fabric complimented your physique and kissed your skin with such sensuality. The feeling of hungry eyes on you never grew old. The assurance was always refreshing. However, there was a weight tonight that wasn’t the fault of the fabric.

“Pirates can never resist treasure.” You pushed past the crack in your demeanor. You smiled wider, but your eyes cast down at your wrist hoping it didn’t reveal too much too soon.

The bark of laughter almost made you flinch. “Not the filthy pirate! Your friend there—” The man continued, complaining about nonsense while raising his already dwindling glass to Sanji. “100 Berries he’s spit in my food.”

That swirl in your chest had just settled, but it returned as your eyes met Sanji’s. His glare wasn’t shy, burning through you. Judgment about your pairing of wine, most likely. Regardless, you noted the fluidity in his movements pulled him closer to you.

The man laughed at the slight staring contest. You internally cursed at breaking first.

“He’s harmless.” You muttered, pouring another serving of wine. Moving your body kept you distracted from the unspoken.

“Harmless?” The man scoffed, inebriation heavy in his inflection.“The scum of a pirate walked—well, crawled really—out of here with nothing but a bloody promise of a slow death.”

You remained light and playful as you finished the conversation, distracting your regular enough to slip away. You made your rounds just as Sanji had, but you were clever to dance around him, avoid him.

It worked at first, but it only aggravated Sanji. He spoke loudly and boldly about the well-known service, slipping in insults and intentionally sabotaging everything you’d just smoothed out. It may not have been intentional. It rarely was if you thought about it, his disappointment reserved for Zeff.

It was as though Sanji had tunnel vision. His upset became yours conscious or not, as every complaint and move he made contradicted yours. It made you trip and stumble. It began to make the night agonizingly slow as he became the barrier between you and the end of the service.

You’d boiled over, pulling harshly on his arm until you both crammed into a blindspot of the rest of the restaurant.

Sanji’s eyes blew wide, but his smirk only widened. Even in his state of mild shock, his mind wandered. “What are you—

You straightened his tie harshly, a threat. “Fix your attitude.”

“Mine?” He countered with disbelief. “If Zeff understood—

“I don’t care about Zeff. I don’t care about you.” You hissed, pushing a finger deep into his chest. Slowly your composure was unraveling, but you regained it quickly, speaking pointedly, “What I care about is this night being over.”

Sanji took the beat of silence to look between your eyes. You were frazzled, your collectedness hanging on by a thread. He could guess why, but you’d never admit he was correct.

“Are you even listening?” You prompted again, ready to move back with utter impatience.

However, Sanji touched the wrist that was within distance causing your body to freeze. “You need ice.”

His hold was gentle, but he felt the heat come from the swelling. The pain was catching up to you.

“Enough.” You spat, wobbling with your steps backward. “Enough of—” Tonight, you wanted to say. The kindness threw you off, made you feel seen in a way you wouldn’t accept. “Just—

“We’ll finish the night smoothly.” Sanji spoke evenly, decidedly for the both of you. “Then, I’ll find ice for you.”

Your chin raised for your childness to surface. “I can take care of myself.”

“I have no doubt.” Sanji felt his emotions settle on his face, the smirk was hard to call on, but the air had become too tense not to with such unfamiliar territory. “But yet, If I don’t help you, you’ll milk it for weeks and I’ll never hear the end of it.”

#QUEUE #I'm nervous writing for someone new #sanji vinsmoke #vinsmoke sanji #sanji #black leg sanji #one piece #one piece sanji #opla!sanji x reader #opla #opla sanji #opla!sanji x f!reader #opla!sanji fluff #opla!sanji angst #sanji angst #sanji fluff #sanji x reader #sanji x you

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verimuru · 29 days

Text

Red on Maroon A 16-page IWTV (2022) fancomic about the vampire Armand and journalist Daniel Molloy visiting the Mark Rothko retrospective in 2024 Paris. Content mentions & warnings: The comic depicts Daniel’s internalized ableism. Rothko’s suicide is acknowledged but not discussed in detail. There’s angst, talk about kink and lots of fluff. Louis is mentioned as well as Daniel’s daughters. Marius is not named but is hinted at. The comic is set up in post-Dubai-interview time and based on my knowledge about s1 of AMC’s IWTV with sprinkles of book canon. Some notes about the comic below:

As with my last comic, I am not a native English speaker, so I hope you keep that in mind when reading <3 trying my best here meow meow

The Rothko retrospective can be visited until 2nd of April of 2024 in Louis Vuitton Foundation. I visited the place in January, so the comic’s surroundings are a mix of memories and some image searches, but in no way fully accurate. Since visiting Paris next week is probably not an option for most people, the foundation has a very cool free app, where you can listen to an audio guide about Rothko and paintings in the exhibition. I mostly used their app as a source for this comic, so in case you want to learn more, go here: https://www.fondationlouisvuitton.fr/en/events/mark-rothko

I listened to a lot of Morton Feldman’s Rothko Chapel -album while making this. So put it in playing in the background if you’re into that sort of thing. Link to the playlist on youtube

Since I am Finnish and I found out that one of LVF’s first exhibition had some Finnish painter’s work, ofc I had to include them… Page 14 has Schjerfbeck’s “Dancing Shoes” and Gallen-Kallela’s “Kullervo Cursing”.

Ok finally some headcanon stuff: in my head, while writing this comic, I imagined Daniel having accepted the dark gift from Armand, but both of them wanting him to live as a human as long as possible to enjoy the benefits of a… mortal body. :’D Since, you know, vampirism is forever anyway, so why not enjoy the variety of bodily fluids, body heat, aches and weirdness of aging? While having a chronic illness is shitty, his life is not, and while his disability marginalizes him, there’s a perspective there, a person living and enjoying things, allowed to take space and feel his thoughts develop from these changes (that also affect over 6 million people around the world with Parkinson’s).

After finishing the comic I am not so sure if Daniel is going to be turned into a vampire after all. So your guesses are as good as mine, would love to hear your suggestions, hehe!

I wish we knew more about Daniel’s daughters! I just came up with something here because I wanted to draw them and wanted to see their dynamics as a family.

I have now read the Devil’s Minion part from Queen of the Damned as a separate short story and appreciate the TV show’s changes to Daniel even more. I can’t wait for S2…..

My sincerest thanks to @anaid-queen for being a test audience, my informant and such a cheerleader the past week <3<3<3

Hope you enjoy xoxo

SORRY I POSTED THE WRONG IMAGE FILES FIRST WAHHH I had to repost ;_;

#armandaniel #verimuru art #iwtv #amc iwtv #iwtv fanart #daniel molloy #armand the vampire #the vampire armand #tvc #old man daniel #daniel x armand #iwtv 2022 #iwtv fancomic #the devils minion #armand #interview with the vampire

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thought--bubble · 1 month

Text

In Need of an Heir Pt. 9

Aemond X Baratheon Reader

Warnings after the cut

Word Count: 1578

In Need of an heir Masterlist

Canon Aemond Masterlist

Full Masterlist

Banners & Dividers by @arcielee

A/N: closing in on the end here, my friends. Thank you to all who have been reading. I completely and utterly adore you. Most likely 2 more parts. I'm still trying to decide if I want to do an epilogue as well.

Warnings:: mentions of previous attempted assault.

The night creeps by slowly after your encounter with your husband. Unable to fall back to sleep, you sit in your bed, the small dagger your brother left you sitting delicately in your lap.

You'd like to think if he came back in here now, you would gut him. Cut him to pieces for what he did. Yet, at the same time, your heart ached for him.

Surrounded by death and destruction for so long, the gravity of that must have pushed him over the edge surely? As much as you didn't like him, he had offered a list for your comfort. He had never raised a hand to you.

This was completely out of character. Unhinged. He was not to be trusted. No one here was.

The morning sun crept through the window, and you felt the dread pool in the base of your stomach.

This was the day. You would be crowned queen. Just as your father had salivated over. This should be a moment of pride. You should be thrilled to bring this type of honor to house Baratheon, yet instead, you feel sick. The gears turn in your head. It's impossible to escape the reality of your situation.

Aemond is the last male Targaryen, and now he is king. If he were to fall without an heir, the entire realm could plunge into chaos, and it would be your fault.

That would be your legacy. The barren queen. Your stomach does somersaults at the thought.

The morning is a whirlwind, maids all around you, pulling and tugging at your hair, getting you into your finest red and black dress.

The coronation would need to happen immediately, and you would once again have to come face to face with your husband.

The thought of looking him in the eye, standing close to him, potentially holding his hand after what he had done. What he tried to do, it made your body rigid. Your mind hypervigilant, but most of all, it made you mad.

You were led to the courtyard and loaded into a carriage where you rode to the dragonpit with only a maid. Your husband had yet to show you his face, alicent, either. Not even young Jaheara.

You had seen no one but your sworn protector who introduced himself to you as Sir Nox. Assigned to you specifically by your husband. It was Sir Nox who told you where you needed to be and when, and that the dowager queen and your husband would be down in the dragon pit waiting for you.

So you had done what was expected of you, and now find yourself in a carriage wobbling along to your coronation. Your husband's coronation. To be named King and Queen of the 7 kingdoms.

When you enter the dragonpit, you can see the banners have been raised, and the entirety of the knights from the keep were lined up off to the side of the raised platform.

You walk towards the platform, each click of your shoes against the stone reverberating around you. The pressure on your shoulders is overwhelming. You feel as if you are walking toward your execution instead of your coronation.

Alicent smiles at you gently as you join her on the platform silently. You clasp your hands in front of you and outwardly display a cool stoic presence, although inside you are screaming.

The chatter of common folk fills the space as they are ushered in. You can't help but look at their faces. Some excited, some annoyed, some fearful. The last time they were led in here, it was like lambs to the slaughter.

The cruelty of Rhaenys allowing her dragon to crush commoners underfoot to simply make a statement still haunted these stone walls. You had heard about it all the way back at storms' end and had felt outrage.

Each one of these people leaves their mark on the world. Even if it is small, they leave something behind, in their actions, in their loved ones.

That pressure is what you feel now as you look out upon all of these faces. They say it is the job of the king to protect and provide for his people, but in all reality that responsibility rests squarely on your shoulders, for without an Heir, these people, will once again be at the mercy of dueling dragons.

Jaheara would be contested as Heir, potentially by Rhaena's children or some dragon seed male floating about. You had no delusions that she would be able to ascend peacefully.

History would undoubtedly repeat itself, and again, how many common folks would be crushed? How many riverlanders burnt to ash? How many great houses wiped out? How many children beheaded or torn to pieces?

All that death, all that destruction. That would be what you leave behind. Bodies. Fields and fields of bodies.

You're pulled from your thoughts as the ceremony starts. Cole announcing to the space the death of King Aegon second of his name, and the ascension of King Aemond first of his name.

As soon as the words leave his lips, you see a head of silver hair moving between the two rows of knights lowering their swords as he passes.

You watch with jangled nerves, being cautious not to allow your true feelings to show in your outward expression. As the last swords fall, you brace yourself for the reunion you knew you didn't want.

As he ascends the stage, he makes eye contact with Cole, Alicent, Jaheara, but not you, his eye lowering to your feet as it passes you.

Coward. Is the only thought in your mind.

Aemond lowers himself to his knees before the high septon and is crowned before the masses to cheers.

Were they actually happy? You could only surmise they were relieved that there was no question on succession this time, and their world wouldn't once again be torn and burnt for the ego of Targaryen men.

You watch Aemond stand proud yet subdued. The perfect picture of regality.

Alicent brings a second crown to Aemond, placing it gently in his hands before turning to you and guiding you towards your husband.

Now he has no choice. He has to look at you. His eye meets yours, and he shudders. Guilt laces his face for just a moment before being replaced with pride.

You curtsy as is customary. "My queen, he says gently as he places the smaller lighter crown upon your head. You raise your head and turn toward the people as they cheer.

The feeling is surreal, and you feel lost in the sounds until you feel Aemonds slightly clammy hand slide into yours and squeeze tight.

You turn your head to look up at him in shock, the tenderness of the gesture confusing. Yet you stay silent and wait until the ceremony is complete before quickly tearing your hand from his and attempting to make a hasty exit toward the carriages.

You're immediately stopped by guards as Alicent rushes over to you.

"You leave last. Heavily guarded. You're the queen." She says hastily patting down your dress. "You'll head back in a carriage with your husband," the emphasis she uses on the word making you cringe.

Alone. In a carriage with Aemond. Quite, possibly the last place in the entire realm that you would want to be.

You purse your lips and nod as Alicent places her hand on your lower back and leads you toward a knight of whom she whispers to and then walks away.

You stand quietly beside him, your palms starting to sweat as you rub them hastily on the side of your dress.

"This way, your grace," the knight begins to lead you, and you follow. Each footstep heavier than the last, until you reach the carriage where Aemond stands outside the small door.

His crown resting beautifully upon his silver tresses, he takes your hand and helps you in and follows behind you before quickly closing the door behind him.

Your plan is to remain silent the entire trip back to the keep. Aemond's plan is very different.

"I owe you an apology," He blurts out. You hold your breath and look out the small window.

He sighs and takes one of your hands in his. "Please look at me." His voice is soft, his touch even softer.

You finally turn your head and look at him. Doing your best to maintain your cool emotionless facade.

He moves onto your side of the carriage and wraps an arm around you, bringing his face down onto your shoulder and placing a gentle kiss there.

"A man, king or not, is meant to protect his wife. Not be the cause of her suffering."

"I was so worried about not fulfilling one duty I forgot about another." He brings his hand to your cheek softly, softly stroking your heated face.

"I will not forget again. You are my queen and will be treated as your station requires." He leans in and places a gentle kiss on your forehead before leaning down and resting his head on your shoulder.

Your heart thumps rapidly in your chest at the gentleness. Your brain screams at you to push him away, but your body aches to be closer.

You take his hand in yours, lacing your fingers and resting them upon your knee.

"And I will treat you as a queen should treat her husband and king"

To be added to any taglists please click HERE

#aemond x reader #ewan mitchell verse #aemond fanfiction #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond one eye #prince aemond targaryen #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond targaryen fanfiction #hotd aemond #prince aemond #aemond #ewan mitchell fanfic #ewan nation #ewanverse #jess fics

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tosuckmyweenis · 1 year

Text

Pure smut

its canon that he slaps his shmeat across your face and I ain't seen no one write about it yet 😤 it's a crime against humanity.

CW: Public sex, probably an alley way I didn't get that far. Unprotected sex/breeding kink, choking, oral (m.recieving) mean!Leon, he really rough in the beginning

18+ content

Letting out a small oof as your back hits the wall, losing balance so you slide down until you're sitting on the ground

"Come on, Leon, that wasn't funny at all."

You could hear him step closer, so he was just a few steps away

"What do you mean it's not funny?" A menacing grin on his face looking down at you

You felt your whole body flush hot

"Leon, what do you think you're doing?" You stuttered out, bracing yourself. Then, finally, you leaned forward to stand up.

"I'm just giving my baby what I know she wants. Practically begging me for, wearing that skimpy little dress in public, knowing what it does to me."

Shoving his left heel into your shoulder, pinning you to the wall with enough force to be uncomfortable but not unbearable.

"Do you want me to stop?"

Swallowing hard, you let out a shaky breathy

"No"

Leaning onto his lifted knee, towering over you and pushing harder into the wall, causing you to let out a whimper

"That's what I thought," he chuckled.

Gazing up at him with half-lidded eyes, you took in his appearance while you waited for his next move; he was wearing his black boots, signature jeans and a skintight shirt; he looked like a god to you.

Twisting his foot into you one last time, causing you to cry out before pulling away

Watched his hands trail down his chest to his belt, undoing it

"We'll start with something easy. on your knees."

Lifting yourself so you were kneeling straight, eye level, with the tent in his pants.

"I've been waiting for this all day." he sighed

Looking up through your lashes, placing both hands on his thighs, reaching to pull the zipper down to reveal his painfully hard cock.

He gripped the base and gave himself a few strokes, thumb swiping over the tip, smearing the bead of precum deliciously, his other hand resting against your cheek.

"Come on, don't be shy."

Feeling the slapping of his dick against your cheek a few times, signaling you to let your mouth hang open as wide as it would go, flattening your tongue, salvating at the thought of what was to come.

The hand on your cheek slid into the back of your head, fisting your hair before being jerked forward harshly, causing you to gag slightly as his head hit the back of your throat before pausing, squeezing your eyes shut to blink away the tears forming.

Breathing in deeply through your nose, you relax your throat, hollowing your cheeks lightly while pulling back, gliding your tongue on the thick vein until all that was left was the tip before being pushed back down, saliva dripping from the corners of your reddened and swollen lips.

Moving a hand from his thigh to wrap around the base of his slippery cock, giving a slight squeeze and moving in tandem with your mouth, moaning at the delicious ache in your skull.

"That's it, baby, just like that...fuck...take it."

Watching his head being thrown back in pleasure, eyes closed, mouth slightly gaping, and the slight panting you could hear had your panties drenched.

After a few more thrusts, you're being pulled off, your mouth popping, and a string of saliva left you connected to him, wiping the spit off your chin with the back of your sleeve.

Sinking to his knees, with blue eyes with blown pupils staring down at you, tugging your hair painfully, placing a quick bruising kiss on your lips.

"Turn around on your hands and knees."

Obeying his words, you turn, planting your hands firmly on the cool cement.

Settling behind you, kneeing your legs open wider to fit perfecting between, Hiking your dress up to stare at the dark spot on your panties before pulling them to the side, exposing your sopping core to him

"God, look how wet you are. Do you like when I manhandle you like the whore I know you are?"

Letting out a whimper when you feel the loud smack followed by stinging on your ass cheek

"I asked you a question; I expect an answer."

"Yes, Sir, I love it when you manhandle me."

Another smack and a moan escape your throat, hands moving to grip your hips harshly; you know you're going to be bruised tomorrow.

"Like what" he growled

"Like a whore" you choked out

Your body lurches forward as he thrusts into your dripping cunt, burying himself to the hilt.

"Like my whore" he purred

Pulling back before slamming back in roughly, he started a brutal pace

"Ahh...s'too much...slow down," you cried out, feeling the heat building in your gut

"No, no..you wanted this baby..so you're going to take everything I give you without complaint, understand."

"Yes...yes...Sir.. ahh..right there, please!"

"That's it, pretty baby; you going to cum for me? Need some more help."

Snaking his arm around your front to pull you flush against his chest, placing his hand around your throat and squeezing the sides just enough to make you feel lightheaded before letting go and repeating, gasping at the sensation, cunt clenching around his cock as you feel every sinful thrust, pounding into your sweet spot with the new angle over and over again, making you see stars.

You could tell he was getting close by how sloppy his thrusts were getting

"I'm going to fill this needy cunt; maybe I'll even knock you up. Would you like that? Huh?, All full and pregnant with my baby?" he wanted, voice full of lust chasing his high

"Yes..yes..please..oh fuck..oh god..please please knock me up.. wanna have your babies so bad" your words came out strangled

Letting go of your neck and returning to your hips, leaning back onto his feet, dragging you with him.

Pulling your hips down harshly, you could feel the pulsing of his cock as he came; a few more thrusts and the fire spread through your body as your orgasm followed, panting you leaned your head back against his heaving chest; he placed soft kissing to the top of your head.

"Are you ok, Baby?

"Yeah, but my knees are absolutely destroyed. So you're going to need to carry me."

Pulling out slowly, you whined at the emptiness

You slipped your panties back in place before

"You know, if you wore pants, this wouldn't have happened," he chuckled

#leon kennedy x reader #leon kennedy smut #resident evil fanfiction #slight mean leon #TSMWFICS

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strawburry01 · 18 days

Text

Northern Attitude

Summary: The team goes out to a small Montana town facing a random string of murders pointing to a new cult forming in the woods around town. Only once they get there does Hotch realize he recognizes the assistant chief for the town force- someone from his university days.

Word Count: 3k

No smut just angsty, maybe not entirely canon compliant but nothing crazy.

Authors Note: Let me know if folks want a part 2 (you may get one anyway, but my brain hasn't decided yet), or any one offs from Hotch and the characters time in uni. I have ideas...

It was another cold morning in your room. You refused to go to bed if it wasn’t comfortably cocooned in at least three blankets, but it did mean getting out of bed in the morning was particularly dreadful. You groan as you stretch your back hearing it pop as you twist. Eventually, you push yourself out of your warm pile of blankets and pillows to take a shower to wake up and start the day.

You worked as an assistant chief in your small Montana town. Things were slow for the most part. Nobody beyond the average population, except for the summers when the tourists came in for hiking and camping, but even then, it was never too much. A few rambunctious teens some nights, the occasional robbery of the convenience store downtown, a random carjacking every other month, but this had all come to a screeching halt when a random string of murders popped up over the last few weeks. Unfortunately, based on the scenes and your analysis, it seemed cult related, bringing a lot more attention, specifically from the government, to your once quaint town.

Shuffling back to your room after your shower you throw on your average attire, black slacks, blue button up, and boots. Being a woman in a small town police force wasn’t easy, but you’d done your time. It only took a few cases before the men started realizing you meant business, and often would run the opposite direction in the office whenever they saw you walking in with a bad mood knowing you would make their life a living hell. Graduating from university with both electrical engineering and criminology made you stand out when you entered the workforce all those years ago, but the quiet side of you still yearned for silence and a work life balance, which is something you did get all the way out here. Well, at least before this all. You’d been working overtime every night into the late hours trying to figure out what you were dealing with. All you had was your bed every couple hours at night before your brain would wake you up again with a flood of new theories and ideas. You’d be happy when this was over, for all the reasons.

You jump into your truck and quickly blow onto your mug of coffee to cool it down as you head out to the latest scene. You swear out loud as you nearly spill it onto your lap as you take a turn too sharp. You crank the volume of your radio up to help wake you up and try to put you in a good mindset. You never tried to come to work in a bad mood, in fact you tried to come in on the cusp of being annoyingly positive and cautiously optimistic. You knew this line of work was easy to get sucked down into and spiral, you’d seen it before, hell you lived it before when you were fresh out of university. It’s what got you out working in a big city, or for a bigger federal office.

You pull into the parking lot alongside the other police vehicles that had already shown up for the day. This latest murder scene was unfortunately in an empty field behind an abandoned high school. Definitely not creepy at all, you thought to yourself as you got out and eyed the several busted windows on the second floor. You grab your backpack and mug as you make your way to the tent set up with the team’s temporary office with laptops and files from the case.

“Morning boys,” you hum as you step underneath the tent, observing the open screens. You get a few ‘good mornings’ back. Some of the guys had been working since the scene was called in and you could tell. Dammit you should have brought coffee or doughnuts for them.

“Cheers boss”, one of the officers, Carter, sighs to you as he walks into the tent, clinking his coffee with yours. Carter had always been one of your favorites, he was young, wide-eyed, but still meant business. He’d grown up in the area so he knew all the folks like they were family. You let out a small smirk as you sip your coffee, starting to map out the plan for today.

You’d have to scour the entire field. And the entire school. You didn’t want a single potential lead or clue or mistake from them to be lost. The team would hate it but it needed to be done.

“Alright team find a friend and meet back here in ten minutes. You’re going to be split between the school and the field and I need all of it thoroughly searched. Heard?” you said, leaning on the table facing the team you had. They all nodded or chirped back a complaint which you laughed at, “you got ten minutes to warm up”.

You leaned back on the front of your truck as you took out a cigarette and placed it between your lips. Lighting it up you stared out into the field. Dappled with yellows and oranges, you can’t even see the ground through the wheat and piles of ancient dirt. Why here? Any other day this would be beautiful, but knowing a murder happened right here made it such a tragic scene. There’s a crackle of gravel from an incoming car behind you. Probably the chief coming in, albeit uncharacteristically early since he usually stayed in the office until things got really hairy. You sighed as you let a cloud of smoke out of your lips, staring up at the sun. Your phone buzzes against your hip and you lazily slide it out before checking it.

It’s a text from the chief. “Federal Bureau coming in today. Play nice.”. Your stomach flips. FBI? Well shit. Also how rude of him not to text you any earlier than right now. “Who?”, you texted back. You see the cursed three dots pop up and down a few times before the text actually sends. “BAU”. You nearly drop your cigarette out of your mouth at your jaw dropping.

As if on some otherworldly cursed cue.

“Y/n?” a terribly familiar voice says from behind you. You take a sharp inhale, before taking out your cigarette and turning your head, trying to look charming as hell.

“Hello dear Aaron,” you say with a smile on your face, seeing the man who’d been stuck in your thoughts since the day he left your side.

It’s his eyes that never changed. They still scrunch up as he smiles at you.

“I didn’t know this was your town,” he said as he moved beside you. You look up at him, placing your cigarette back between your lips and shrugging with a smirk plastered on the side of your face. You catch his eyes quickly flickering over you, just as you look over him. He used to be skinny, studious, almost a nerd, but the man that stood in front of you now was built, stern, and serious.

“I got told a few seconds ago that you’d be here at all. Chief keeps me on my toes,” you remarked, internally thinking about how you actually wanted to wring his neck for not telling you sooner.

When you woke up this morning you did not- in a thousand years- expect Aaron Hotchner to show up at your work. At your crime scene. It was a tumultuous mix of excitement, nerves, intrigue, and still a bit of anger. You hadn’t seen him in years, let alone reached out. Ever since ending on a sour note you never tried, mostly because you knew he wouldn’t respond- not out of spite but just because he was so busy and focused on work. It was admirable, but also so annoying.

“You smoke now?” he asked, snapping you out of your mental musings. He was eyeing disapprovingly the cigarette still hanging in the corner of your mouth.

“You wear contacts now?” you retorted, raising an eyebrow. He sharply laughed and looked back to his team as they approached.

“Have for a while” he said, turning back to you.

“Haven’t known for a while” you snipped before throwing your cigarette butt onto the ground and smashing it out with your heel to free yourself to meet his team. “We’ll talk later Aaron” you said with a nod which he nodded back to, ending this conversation, knowing more pressing things existed than-

your-

university-

situationship-

showing up again in your life.

Aaron’s team pops up behind him and brings you back to focus. Dammit there was a murder on your watch and you could only think of this fucking man. Grow up, you swore in your head as you forced a customer service smile onto your face.

“Team this is y/n l/n, a friend from university,” he said as he gestured to you. He couldn’t make eye contact when he called you just a friend. You noticed two of the men on the team elbowed each other, no doubt in shock their boss actually had friends outside of work at some point in his life.

Aaron introduced you to his team and you tried to run through their names in your head as you shook their hands. You were terrible with names. Agent Reid was the twiggy one who looked perpetually deep in thought, Agent Morgan was the one with the tight black shirt who who had an air of confidence about him, Agent Jareau was the sweet blonde who acted like the unofficial mother of the group, and Rossi who was the tired old dad of the group. I’m sure Aaron loved being bossed around by him, you thought to yourself as you shook his hand. He seemed nice, but Aaron had never been one to not be the one in charge- the little control freak.

You brought them to your tent to introduce them to your folks, trying to get everyone on the same page with daylight burning. Later than expected due to the guests everyone was ready to actually start looking through the field and school. You felt Aaron’s eyes on you as you told everyone to pair off, but you nabbed Carter before he could object.

The search of both areas wasn’t as successful as you had hoped. The school had some ominous latin scribbled onto the walls in red, which had been determined to be blood on the scene, although it wasn’t the latest victims. Reid had somehow been able to translate the latin- you could see in an instant why they kept him around.

“So what’s the deal with you and the FBI guy?” Carter asks when you get to the smack dab middle of the field. Your neck hurts from craning over the ground, trying to not let a speck of earth go unseen.

“What do you mean?” you ask back, not looking up as you continue scanning the ground.

“I’ve never seen you flustered,” he quips as he pauses, “you actually like-I don’t know it was just weird” he said and half heartedly shrugged as he looked back at the group that had begun to reform by the tent.

“It’s complicated,” you said, knowing that the young adult in him would eat the drama up. Sure enough, he perked up.

“Yeah? What is it? You got an ex?” he said, nudging you.

But that was the problem. He wasn’t an ex. He wasn’t really an anything. He was a friend, sure, but friends also didn’t make out in the corners of parties as much as you two had. And friends didn’t stay up until sunrise testing each other for the upcoming exams every single finals week. And friends didn’t invite each other to spend weekends at their family vacation cabin alone.

“No, no, no, just-” you tried to explain to no avail, not even knowing how to justify this to yourself, “okay maybe,”. Carter let out a low whistle.

“Hey if my ex showed up to work I’d be flipping the fuck out, you’re handling this really well,” he said, trying to lighten the mood. You chuckle at the kids joke.

“Sometimes it’s just nicer to see a familiar face, you’ll get it when you’re older,” you said, knowing hated when you pulled the you’ll understand when you’re older card. He rolled his eyes and groaned.

Once the sun started setting you made your way back to the huddle that was forming of everything theorizing and laying out the evidence. Tomorrow would be busy in the office working to get everything categorized and bagged. You leaned up against your truck again, just like you did this morning, and pulled out another cigarette, flicking the lighter onto the end. You waved your team over and told them to head home for the night. You knew a lot of them had families at home, and you tried to be respectful of it all, even if you didn’t have your own. Some of the security officers watching the spot for the night stayed and mingled with the BAU team a ways away from you, and you settled your sights on the pink hue of the clouds as the sun lowered.

A familiar body moved next to you. You didn’t have to turn to know it was Aaron. You blew a cloud of smoke out the other side of your lips and stayed quiet, waiting for him to start. He had his hands jammed in his coat pockets, his shoulder grazing against yours. People used to laugh at the height difference back in university, and it had only gotten worse it seemed, or at least Aaron walked around with much more presence these days. You were leaning up against the front grate of your truck and felt Aaron slowly move his arm behind you, holding onto the grate on the other side of your hip. Feeling his arm behind you felt so familiar.

“There’s Latin at the other scenes too,” he said, facing straight ahead into the sun.

“Shit,” you said as you slowly nodded, realizing that the scribbles would not just be nothing. There was a moment of silence before he broke it again.

“Do you hate me?” he asked, glancing down for a second, but long enough for you to meet eyes before you looked away.

“You know I could never hate you,” you said begrudgingly, knowing it was the truth. His arm got closer to your back at that and you leaned further onto it, “it’s really annoying honestly” you halfheartedly laughed. You heard him laugh under his breath. You swallowed your pride and leaned in, resting your head on the side of his torso, letting out another cloud to try and soothe your nerves.

“It’s nice out here,” he said, looking out at the sunset still which had only gotten deeper pink and orange.

“ ‘S quiet,” you agreed, “I don’t know how you do it in the big leagues,”.

“You know you could’ve too,” he said, looking down. You stayed staring straight ahead.

“I’m not doing this argument again Aaron,” you said curtly, as you eyed him back. He shrugged and turned away again.

“You know you could have that’s all,”.

“You ever think I’m okay with it out here? You ever think I don’t need to kill myself over every case with the fate of the world hanging on it?” you said, raising your voice a little.

“I’m just saying you were one of the best and you could do a lot in the bureau,” he said back, “in the BAU,” he tested. You let out an angry air of smoke from your cigarette.

“Dammit Aaron don’t do this again,” you said, cutting him off before he can say anything else. You throw your cigarette onto the gravel and kick some rocks over the smoldering residue, “I’m happy here, can’t you just be okay with that?”. Aaron watched you and sighed and shifted in his spot, taking the second to move his hand from the car to your waist.

“I’m sorry Y/N,” he said, and he meant it. You sighed.

“I’m not going to be able to convince you to stay huh?” you asked, trying to joke, but inside you really did mean it earnestly. His thumb rubbed your side. It had been a while since you felt like this.

“I don’t think you’re able to,” he responded, sadness tinging his voice. The two of you stood, leaning into each other watching the sun finally dip behind the hills in the distance.

A few yards away Morgan stood on the phone, peeking around a car before ducking back. Garcia was not going to believe this shit.

#aaron hotchner #aaron hotchner x reader #criminal minds #aaron hotch hotchner #hotch x reader #aaron hotch fanfiction #bau team

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djarinslover · 7 months

Text

Wanna Be Your Girlfriend

Hii, this is based off the ask *here*. I'm desperate for more Nami fic ideas, so feel free to send asks in. I mean, LOOK at her. She's beautiful and I would die for her. I tried to keep the scene recaps short bc I'm sure mostly everyone has watched the show and don't need to read what happens too. Happy reading!

Pairing; Nami x Fem!Reader (no y/n, no description)

Warnings; canon violence, swearing

Word Count; 2.2k

You're sitting with Zoro after Zeff helped patch him up. You're the surgeon of the crew but you never had to deal with wounds like the one Zoro was suffering with. It was your first time seeing a wound like that. You mainly dealt with bruises, cuts, scrapes and the occasional broken bone back home in your village. Nami wanders in, her brow furrowed in concern.

"Hey, how are you doing?" she asks.

"Me?" You turn to look at her. "I'm fine. It's Zoro we should be worrying about."

"I can worry about both of you."

You feel your face grow hot. Ever since you joined Luffy's crew, you've developed a crush on the redheaded navigator. You thought she was a badass, kind (when she wanted to be) and a cool person to be around. You wanted to know everything about her, wanted to be around her constantly. But to make sure you didn't come off as a lovesick puppy, you steered clear of spending too much time with Nami. She probably didn't even feel the same way and there was no sense in trying to encourage the crush when you had to spend weeks on a ship with no escape. Unless you wanted to take your chance with the ocean.

"Can I have a minute with him?" Nami interrupts your train of thought.

"Of course!"

You check over Zoro's bandages quickly before leaving the room in search of Luffy or Usopp. Zoro was the only one who knew about the crush you had. That was simply because he caught you rehearsing what you would say to Nami during literally any interaction. He was good at keeping his mouth shut, so if you had to wish one of them caught you, you were glad it was him. Luffy and Usopp wouldn't be able to make it past dinner before they let something slip.

You wander from the ship back onto the dock just to see Luffy being thrown through the door of the restaurant. In shock, you watch as Arlong stomps towards him. Fear gripped your limbs as you watched the two fight. You couldn't do anything - you were a doctor, not a fighter! As Arlong goes to sink his teeth into Luffy's neck, Nami's voice calls out.

"Arlong, wait!"

She marches past without even looking at you. You watch as she walks towards the fishman, map of the Grand Line in hand. "I have it. I have the map. I got it for you, just like I said I would."

"Nami. What are you doing?" Luffy pants out.

"I tried to tell you, Luffy. I was never on your crew. I only joined up with you so I could steal the map."

You feel like everything goes silent as her words hit your ear. The world spins around you, making you nauseous as Nami walks to Arlong's ship. Arlong throws Luffy into the ocean, casting you a glance before following the redhead to his ship. You're torn between going after Nami and jumping in to get Luffy. Both moments pass you by as the ship sets sail and Sanji jumps in to save your captain. He heaves him onto the dock as you snap out your stupor and rush to help.

Luffy lifts his head as he asks, "Where's Nami?"

"She's gone. She's a member of Arlong's crew," Usopp answers.

An hour later, after setting sail, you're sitting in the galley staring at your hands. You couldn't wrap your head around what had just happened. No way Nami went with Arlong. No way she betrayed you and the rest of the crew. No way she was only on the ship to just to steal a map. You didn't want to believe she had been lying the entire time you knew her, that she didn't care for you. For the crew.

Luffy comes in with Usopp, Sanji and Zoro followeing close behind, his usual grin on his face. You eye him skeptically, frown deepening as he walks to the table you're sitting at.

"What are you possibly smiling about? Nami left us!"

"Don't worry about that. We're going to get her back. We can't go to the Grand Line without all of our crew."

"What?" You shoot to your feet. "You mean it?"

"Of course. A good pirate captain never lets a member of his crew stay behind."

Your throat feels tight and your eyes burn with the threat of tears. Luffy was going to get Nami back. You couldn't ask for a better captain. Straightening up, you look him in the eye. "Thank you, Luffy."

"So, we're going after Nami. How are we going to find her?" Usopp asked.

"Yeah, we don't even know where she is," Zoro chimed in.

"I know someone who does." He slams a bag onto the table, causing whatever was in it to groan. He opened it, presenting Buggy the clown's head. You jolt back in disgust.

"Hello, boys!" the clown head cheers, giggling.

You end up in Coco Village to look for Nami, according to Buggy that's where Arlong and his crew lived. You follow Luffy to where Nami is talking to a villager, looking for the ransom money the fishman is owed for the month. When she turns around to find the five of you standing there, she hesitates. You feel your heart speed up - you were unsure if it was because of the betrayal you felt or the longing of wanting to be with Nami.

"Luffy? What are you doing here?"

"I could ask you the same thing."

"This is where I belong."

"I don't believe that," Luffy says. "This is not you."

"No. This isn't the me you want me to be," Nami spits out.

"Nami . . . if you need our help-"

"No. I don't need any of you."

Her eyes linger on you for a moment too long that makes you sick. You would've cut your heart out for her before if she asked. Now she's here saying she doesn't want you.

"I never want to see you again." Her eyes once more meet yours before she turns and walks away, taking your shattered heart with her.

You numbly follow Luffy to the house on the edge of the tangerine grove. You barely processed Nami leaving you in the first place, now you had to deal with her never wanting to see you again. Were all those little moments you had with her fake? Nothing more than an act? You didn't want to believe it, that your feelings were completely one-sided.

In the house at the end of the tangerine grove Nojiko, Nami's sister, invites you in after being promised a meal from Sanji. She told you what happened to their mother when they were young and why she, and the town, hated Nami. You began to understand why she betrayed you; you may have even done the same thing if you were in the same situation. Instead of staying angry at Nami, you directed that rage to Arlong and the rest of his crew for exploiting Nami's pain.

After helping Sanji do the dishes, everyone rushes outside when you heard commotion. Nami was stabbing herself in the arm before Luffy grabbed her arm. The two spoke for a while, you itching to bandage Nami's cuts. In front of you, the small town of Coco Village was on fire thanks to Arlong.

"Let's go," Luffy rasps.

"Right!" the four of you chime.

You run to Nami's side with bandages, cleaning the cuts before she even realizes what you're doing. She flinches when she finally notices you, trying to inch her arm out of your grasp. You grip her arm ever so slightly roughly to make sure she doesn't move it more.

"You shouldn't even be doing this for me."

"Why? You're injured. It's my job to help."

"But I was such an ass to all of you," Nami whispers. "Especially to you."

"None of that matters. Your sister told us what happened to your mother. I forgive you, Nami."

Fresh tears sparkle in her beautiful eyes. You brush them away with a soft touch to her cheek, finishing wrapping her arm with the gauze and then helping her stand. "Let's go kick some fish ass."

Storming the park as the sun rises, you help Zoro and Sanji fight the pirates trying to protect 'Arlong Park'. It was surprisingly satisfying to punch several of them in the face.

"Damn, Doc," Zoro whistles. "Remind me to never piss you off."

"For someone who swore she doesn't to hurt others, you're doing well," Sanji comments.

"Yeah, well . . . they hurt someone I care about. It becomes personal then."

You notice the smirk Zoro throws you but refuse to acknowledge it. When you see Nami speeding down the hill, your heart jumps to your throat. She crashes into Usopp and Zoro first, panting, "I'm so glad you're okay."

She lets them go, turning to you to smile her bright beautiful smile. "I'm glad you're okay, too."

"Me, too. Uh . . . I mean, you too. I mean-" You sigh, biting your tongue.

Suddenly, the ground rumbles. The building that Luffy was still in was falling down. With a gasp, Nami grabs your hand tightly, lacing your fingers together. You could barely enjoy the moment through fearing for Luffy's safety once more. But the fear wasn't needed; your rubbery captain was fine as per usual. You squeeze Nami's hand in relief.

Later, after the confrontation with Luffy's grandfather, you're sitting next to Nami by a fire. "Lots of excitement today, huh?" you say.

"Yeah. I'm going to sleep for a week after all this," she answers.

Swallowing, you decide it's now or never. "Nami, I wannabeyourgirlfriend," you rush out.

"I'm . . . sorry?"

"I want to be your girlfriend."

She looks at you in surprise, making your cheeks flare with heat. What if you just made an absolute fool of yourself in front of her and now you have to deal with the consequences for the rest of your life on that damned ship?

Nami must've known you were in your head because she places a hand on your cheek to bring your gaze back to hers. She has the bright smile on her face. "I thought you'd never say anything. Usopp owes me twenty Berry."

"You placed a bet on when I'd ask you? Wait, when did you even know?"

"I've liked you for a while now. I just didn't want to say anything because I knew what I was going to have to do." She shrugged. "I didn't want to hurt you. Then when Usopp asked when I thought you would confess, I figured it had to be obvious I liked you, too. Guess it just took a dickhead fishman to make you see, huh?"

You laugh, utterly overjoyed with the fact that Nami likes you too. She likes you and wants to be with you. "I guess so. But hey, at least I finally got there, right?"

She nudges you with a laugh. "Right." Nami's gaze softens as she looks at you. "Meet me in the morning? There's someone I want you to meet."

"Sure."

The next morning, you meet Nami outside the entrance of the hut you slept in. She took your hand with a grin, leading you to a part past the tangerine grove. There was a large tree with a stake next to it, the name Belle Mere carved into it. You look at your new girlfriend curiously. She blushes.

"This is my mom. I wanted to bring you here. Two of the most important women in my life."

Tears burn in the corner of your eyes as you look down at the grave. You take her hand, running your thumb softly over hers. "I'm so glad you wanted to introduce us." You direct your next sentence to Belle. "You raised an incredible, amazing daughter. I hope you're immensely proud of her."

Nami is staring at you with stars in her eyes, squeezing your hand. She brings you closer to her until you're standing pressed against one another. She cups your face with her free hand, eyes darting all over your face, brushing a stray tear off your cheek. You felt the tension swell, anxiety building up in your chest until you say -

"Kiss me."

Nami swoops in, leaning down to press her lips to yours. The bliss you feel is blinding as you finally get to kiss her. It's soft, sweet, everything you imagined it would be. When you part, you're both breathless. You meet her piercing gaze.

"You're not leaving again, are you?" you ask.

She brings your intwined hands up to her lips, kissing the back of your hand. "If I ever leave, you're coming with me. But no, I'm not leaving. Not until we find the One Piece."

The two of you share one more kiss, giddiness filling each step you take back to the ship.

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