#when being tortured doesn’t make them scared or bitter it just makes them more intense somehow in their enthusiasm and hope

[thranduel]

i need people to actually stop and think logically when it comes to fictional characters. more specifically, when it comes to astarion.

it’s frustrating when people only talk about him in a sexual way and reduce him to “the hot sexy flirty vampire” or “the bear guy” (he was used as an EXAMPLE in a livestream, it’s not even canon in his lore) and view him as someone who “loves flirting and sleeping with people” when he does NOT. he canonically has sexual trauma, was forced to use his body to seduce people, got punished whenever he didn’t listen and is STILL suffering from ptsd after years of abuse and torture (already kinda spoke about this here).

it’s also frustrating when people hate on him and reduce him to “horrible evil heartless cruel annoying bastard” and act like you’re a shitty person if you like his character and must automatically agree with everything he’s done when you absolutely don’t?? he’s a FICTIONAL CHARACTER IN A FANTASY GAME, you can enjoy the complexity of his character and appreciate his character development while also acknowledging his flaws and not approve of every single thing he has ever done.

but before i continue, everyone should watch this scene. many people haven’t seen it because you have to pick very specific dialogue choices when astarion’s siblings approach you at camp. it’s brutal and heartbreaking but this is where he talks about what cazador did to him when he punished him for not listening to his orders. and yes, it’s bad. like really bad. this is just the first part, but the rest of it is more intense and it’s in the video:

“once - in the first decade of my slavery - i found a darling boy who i couldn’t bare to bring back to him. so i ran, instead of hurting that sweet man. after cazador caught me, the bastard sealed me, starving, inside a dusty tomb, all on my own, for an entire year”.

i wish people could actually just try to understand him and his backstory before reducing him to something he’s not. he’s not this one-dimensional “chaotic evil villain”. he’s not this “flirty sexy vampire red flag bad boy” he is SO much more than that. he is so complex and well-written and it’s so weird how people ignore it.

instead of constantly focusing on how he acts at the beginning of the game and saying “astarion is so mean and cruel what a horrible guy who doesn’t care about anyone but himself”, why can’t we talk about how he was forced into doing so many horrible things that he never wanted to do and how his master punished him every time he didn’t follow orders to the point where it utterly broke and destroyed him? he lost his freedom and bodily autonomy. he was forced to sleep with people and then lure them to tragic fates. imagine how sick, disgusted, guilty and horrible he felt all at once. it made him numb, empty, angry and scared even when he was far away from cazador, because that type of pain and trauma never leaves you. he was surrounded by cruelty for so many years that he responded with cruelty in many situations. he hated when people tried to be the hero or make false promises to save someone because no one ever saved him. no one even tried. he had no one and nothing. he was used to constant disappointment and loneliness. he was treated like an object rather than a person. of course he’s going to be bitter because of that. how can you seriously expect someone who only knew a world of cruelty to see sunshine and rainbows and be the sweetest person you’ve ever met? he’s upset, he’s angry, he’s hurt, he’s bitter. does that make every action of his okay? is it an excuse? absolutely not. and no one said that it is. his own life was being destroyed and he also destroyed others at the same time. it’s horrible. but everything cazador did to him explains why he became like that.

but the moment you actually start to treat him like a person, you can immediately see things start to change. that is literally the only thing he ever wanted. that’s why the scene you get after the drow interaction at moonrise is one of my absolute favourites. i know there’s a different version of that scene (if you don’t talk to the drow) where he instead admits he had a plan to seduce you but then fell for you, but the reason i prefer the drow one is because it feels really meaningful and important for his character in regards to consent and treating him like a person. like it’s just such an important conversation to have with him. obviously the other version is still really sweet when you think about the romantic aspect of your relationship and it’s nice to hear that he’s fallen in love and tells you that you deserve something real, because he’s never had those sort of feelings for anyone. it’s really beautiful. but i love how the drow version of the scene could actually work for both platonic and romantic relationships with him if that makes sense? it’s important to him because you made the decision to actually treat him like a person, defend him and allow him to make his OWN decisions (something he never had with cazador). he appreciated it so much that he decided to come up to you in the middle of the night and thank you, and then he felt comfortable enough to be vulnerable and open up to you.

at the start of act 3, you already start to see how much he’s changed. if you give an orphan child some food, he approves. when you first met him, he wouldn’t have. he probably would’ve felt bitter; angry to see someone stop for someone else when no one ever did for him. but because you showed him basic respect and kindness, he started to realise that there is good in this world and people do care. it’s not just evil and coldness and cruelty. he only believed there was because of how long he suffered with cazador. there is literally a scene where he tells you that no one has ever cared about him or been kind to him and that no one else has a heart like you. he starts to find safety and comfort in you. this is why it’s so beautiful to see how much he grows and changes and it also shows that he genuinely loves and cares for you too because he’s trying. he’s really trying. you are able to convince him that he can be better than cazador and he believes you after everything you’ve done to help him. it’s going to take a very long time for him to heal after everything he’s suffered, but the fact he has already started to try and be a better person is such a massive thing. obviously it doesn’t erase what he’s done in the past and it doesn’t automatically “fix” him, but the fact that he’s trying and he wants to be better tells you more than enough about him. i am so proud of his character development and growth and i really hope people start to understand him and appreciate him more.

#astarion #baldur’s gate 3 #bg3 #meta #character analysis #i am once again going to cry #sorry some of this is a little repetitive because i’ve spoken about it before but i just can’t stress it enough #the amount of people that don’t even bother trying to understand him is aggrevating #not everyone has to like him but don’t make stupid comments when you don’t even put the effort in to get to know his character and backstory #bg3 spoilers #my posts

[straight-to-the-pain]

I need more characters who cope with trauma through relentless enthusiasm, who are hurting on the inside but smiling on the outside, who will always be there for their friends even when they need someone to be there for them. Sure it’s fun when what they’ve been through is clear as day to all who meet them, but I really think that characters who try to hide it, who you would never know are hurting if someone else didn’t tell you, are kinda underrated.

#whump #emotional whump #past trauma #tropes and prompts #my stuff #look I’m reading a book and yeah #like I just love it when they’re clearly not okay inside #but their coping mechanism is just relentless enthusiasm and just trying to be supportive of everyone else #when being tortured doesn’t make them scared or bitter it just makes them more intense somehow in their enthusiasm and hope #like even if it’s illogical #I love it especially when it’s illogical

[blzzrdstryr]

Darling escaping - Mondstadt girls edition

Inspired by a request I got, will do edition for other characters in the future.

Starring: Amber, Eula, Jean, Lisa, Rosaria

Reader is gender neutral

CW: Yandere themes, confinement, drugging

Amber

It’s highly unlikely that Amber will confine you, but if it reaches that point, then she will try to be as understanding as possible. Being kidnapped is hard and stressful, it’s OK if you hit and yell at her, she gets you, you’re scared and anxious, she will let it slide.

The same goes for any failed escape attempts, Amber will maintain that sweet-saccharine-I-am-not-mad-at-you-please-stop-crying-and-screaming persona very well. She will be very mad of course, partially at you, mostly at herself.

She keeps you confined in the cottage in the middle of the forest - Amber, unlike you, has a vast experience of navigating among the wilderness, so she can almost always recapture you with ease, years spent tracking and hunting lending well in her search.

You will have to be quick and clever if you want to escape - you can’t dwell in one place for too long, nor can you leave any mark in hurry - Amber will use them to deduce your path and location.

You will also have to avoid major cities and settlements - Knights of Favonius have a good reputation and Amber is known for her upstanding nature, she can lie to locals that you’re dangerous escaped criminal or confused and troubled victim who wandered to far for their own good, and have you presented on the platter.

Once she drags you back, she will start to think about escape-proofing the cottage. She might also buy a chain, long enough to let you wander in most of the room. Don’t worry she’ll let you out, she just needs to install new sets of locks on every door in your house.

Eula

The day when she finally loses an internal battle and kidnaps you is the day when both you and Eula start to hate her intensely. Just like Amber, she also tries to be understanding, yet it’s hard. She can sometimes snap back or glare at you with that cold look, which will sink your already drowning sympathies even further.

Escape attempts will be met quite poorly, Eula understands that you’re terrified and stressed and don’t want to be anywhere near her, yet it hurts so badly she loses control. She will say a couple of very insidious and bitter things, as she drags you back, her hold on you a tad too forceful not to be painful.

You will most likely be confined in her mansion - Lawrences might be universally despised by all of Mondstadtians, yet they’re also filthy rich and people have a hard time saying no to shiny mora. You will be allowed to wander in a couple of rooms with all the necessities in your reach.

She won’t allow you to have any maids or servants though - her reputation is already low, and letting a third person in on this dangerous secret will definitely be her downfall.

That’s why she wastes no time when she sees rooms she kept you in empty. Eula will bolt out of the house, uncaring how she might look to others as her mind races, searching for your possible routes.

Your best bet is staying inside or close to major settlements. As it was said before, Mondstadtian despise Lawrences, and Eula isn’t an exception to that. She might be a respected Knight of Favonius, but if you act distressed enough others will question her motives and deter her from grabbing you back.

If you somehow happen to be in the wilderness it’s already over for you. Eula spends most of her time outside the city gates, she is very familiar with the terrains and forests, so she navigates them pretty well. No matter how fast or long you run, she will get you back.

Eula will act extra callous and cold after your failed escape, her heart aching at the fact that you were that desperate to be anywhere but with her.

Jean

Jean is far from being an intense yandere, she will confine you only if she believes that you can’t live comfortably by yourself.

One of the perks of being a highly respected acting grandmaster is that no one really questions her decisions. Even Diluc, who left and now despises the knights, acknowledges how responsible and hardworking she is.

She will convince others that you’re mentally unwell, that you need care and patient guidance to even function, and so she will pressure you into becoming her protege.

None of your words about Jean’s true nature will be taken seriously - acting grandmaster is a kind, hardworking and responsible leader, she does everything in the name of others’ well-being. How can you accuse Jean of something like this?

Moreover, your words will be used against you, as she will present them as a proof of your fragile mental state - you must be deeply delusional to think of your caretaker so badly and poorly, blaming her for things she had no hand in.

You will be “gently” reminded to stay with Jean in her own house,a knight always patrolling near the building when she has work to do. Unlike most yanderes, Jean will allow you to freely wander in the house and courtyard, yet nothing more.

If you escape, you should probably head to the next nation, without stopping in any of the Mondstadt settlements - Jean’s reach is far and wide.

She will dispatch the group of knights, ordering them to safely retrieve you back into her arms - “[First] is scared and confused”, she’ll tiredly sigh and ask them to be gentle with you upon your recapture.

She won’t punish you once you’re back, no she will be calm and collected, despite the inner storm - she has to keep the mask up, both for you and others. You will find two knights on the daily patrol though.

Lisa

Lisa can appear very lazy and careless at first glance, but she is far from that. The witch is the best graduate of Sumeru academy in two centuries and an expert at potion making. She’s also very good at her time management and has a spark of ingenuity, which makes your escape highly unlikely.

First of all, you will be pumped full of sedative drugs, if you aren’t compliant and broken enough - Lisa would like to think that you’re all nice and obedient, but she can’t.

She will slip drugs in your food and water, sometimes she will force the syringe needle under your skin, if you realize what she’s doing and start being difficult.

With the substances muddling your mind you will be as helpless and weak as a newborn kitten, unable to make three steps in a straight line.

With you being constantly high Lisa doesn’t have to stress over your escape - she just needs to lock all windows and doors and add a bit of silencing charms so no one can hear your angered screams.

It would be an incredibly simple, yet perfect plan if it wasn’t for drug resistance. Over time your body will start to adapt to the influence of her “potions”, and you will need a higher dose to be rendered helpless and incoherent again.

You will realize this once the terrible mix of withdrawal and clarity of mind hits you. Half-bent and squirming you will slip from your cell and start to run.

It’s highly unlikely you will go far, especially during withdrawal, but your best chance of escaping lies into contacting any human settlement - you will appear very sick and distressed and they’ll have no choice but take you in and let you endure the incoming torture under the safety of the house.

Once your body is clean, you should run, as far as possible, you should also change your clothes - Lisa marked the ones she kept you in with her electro energy, making you easier to detect.

If she gets you back, she’ll start switching between different kinds of sedatives, so you don’t develop resistance. Lisa will also add a couple of locks and a long chain to her purchases.

Rosaria

Rosaria, to her own dismay, doesn’t own any fancy mansion to keep you in, the house that she lives in is small and cramped as she uses the place to just sleep and keep the little of what she owns here.

This house, despite its small size, has a cellar - it’s empty and unused, with cobwebs decorating the corners. It’s perfect for keeping you in, when you’re difficult.

Don’t worry the cellar is the last resort - Rosaria will confide you here, if you act extra defiant and disobedient. On most days, you’re free to wander in that small house, and if you act extra nice, the nun will let you out under her strict supervision.

She will however, install a long chain and cuff it around your leg when she has to leave for a job.

You can run away from her in two instances, when she decides to go for a short walk with you, and when she is away, if you are able to unscrew or loosen the chain enough for your feet to slip.

If you escape during your walk, you better be an excellent runner, because Rosaria is fast. You will have to compete not only in speed, but also endurance and stamina with her, because Rosaria can run for a very long time, especially when she’s chasing you.

If you escape when she’s away your task gets infinitely easier, you’ll just need to make your way to Mondstadt and make your accusations - Rosaria isn’t very popular here, nor does she have a great image, so your words will hold some weight.

Whether she is found guilty or innocent, it will provide enough time for you to leave the city and head for the neighbouring nation.

If Rosaria gets you back, then you can forget about seeing a sunlight for a very long time, she will keep you chained in the cellar for at least two weeks as a punishment.

#yandere genshin impact #Yandere genshin impact x reader #Yandere genshin #Yandere genshin x reader #Yandere Amber #Yandere Eula #Yandere Rosaria #Yandere Lisa #Yandere Jean #Yandere Amber x reader #Yandere Eula x reader #Yandere Jean x reader #Yandere Lisa x reader #Yandere Rosaria x reader #Female yandere #Female yandere x reader #Yandere x reader #Yandere

[ellitx]

Chapter 9: Infatuation

𝗖𝗵𝗮𝗽𝘁𝗲𝗿 𝗹𝗶𝘀𝘁

previous || next

art belongs to rome

warning: NSFW content ahead

word count: 5.9k

          The rain pounded down, each drop is a small stone, piercing cold. It was still early when the clouds gave off their rain to the grass and trees when the road became alive with more splashes than your eyes could appreciate. Yet together they brought together such a soothing sound, a natural melody every bit as beautiful as soulful hum.

           Soon the drizzle turned into a heavy downpour. The sky turned dark as the rain fell rapidly to the ground. Venti grabbed your hand and pulled you to follow him to find a nearby shelter to rest.

           It’s been hours since it started and there are still no signs of dying down. Your lips drew out a sigh and watched in silence the pitter-pattering of the droplets on the ground. The bard sat on a nearby ledge and stared at your back, absently tracing the shape of your figure.

           His mind wandered of how a certain traveler touched you. It brought great bitterness in his mouth, the taste causing him to have a foul mood for an umpteenth time on this day. How many more outcomes will continue to mess with his mood? He already had enough of it and he refrained himself from losing his temper at the vexing events.

           He clenched his fists angrily. The audacity of Aether holding you while you’re asleep and the moment he’s away. His displeasure would come like an impossible build up steam, burning him on the way out, burning the one on the receiving end. 

           You’ve been tainted.

The idea of your purity and innocence being corrupted swarmed his mind. The thought of another man other than him holding and touching you began to aggravate him even more. If you happen to meet him, will you leave him? His nails digging into his palm caused him to bleed without his knowledge, yet his mind is placed elsewhere.

           Not good…

           Emerald orbs watchfully kept an eye solely on your form. His breathing was ragged and shaky, his attention meandering everywhere that can’t help still itself. Not good. Not good. Not good. Not good.

           Then it was the breaking point of his patience. At that moment, his head was blinded by a fiery serving of rage, fear, and dread all mixed up together that tasted so bitter. He wanted to reach out to you yet his mind is too corrupted to make sense of his surroundings.

            You looked over your shoulder and saw Venti’s form was hunched. The way his hands tightly gripped onto his hair immediately worried you if something’s wrong. His hands were shaking vigorously thus you quietly but swiftly approached him and checked up to see what’s going on.

           You brushed away his fringe and let your palm rest on his forehead. Your body jolted in surprise at the intense burning heat he was emitting and you grew even more concerned if he has a fever.

           In the storm he was facing, in this wind that howls inside of him, you are the gentle center. He decided to indulge himself at your soft touch and rest at your side. It’s becoming torturous that he had to endure everything. You were too close, your scent is becoming so intoxicating— too addicting, your touches were so light he wanted you to press your palm against him even more.

           He wanted you so badly. He wants to let everyone know you only belong to him. That they should know where to keep their hands to themselves, but he has to control himself. He doesn’t want to scare you and that’s the last thing he ever wanted.

           His pulse sped up and his breathing turned shallow. Of course, he was addicted to you— but for every reason, that is pure and right. You are his safety and his love, an anchor he holds onto, that he was able to pull himself together. 

           You always give him warmth, consistent love, and patience. That’s why he loves you so much, why his nature trusted you before his mind could too. Innocent, honest, pure, and full of naïveté. What more words can he use to describe you? You are literal perfection to him, you’re just too innocent for him and he can’t control himself anymore the more he thinks about you.

           “[Name],”

           Venti grabbed your wrist, firm but gentle, and pulled you close. Your whole face flushed when he buried his face on your neck and started biting your neck, giving subtle sucks and licks causing you to slip short moans before shutting it quickly with your hand. He settled you on his lap, straddling the sides of his legs, while his hands roamed over your skirt and lifted it up feeling your soft thighs.

           You shut your eyes tightly and gripped his shoulders, not knowing what to do whilst you wonder what’s with the sudden change of his behavior. He tucked your hair behind and gently angled your head to the side to gain more access to your neck and continue nibbling it nonstop.

           Your breath turned shaky and a shiver ran down your nerves when his lips brushed your cheek, a shiver that made your whole body tremble. “If you want me to stop, tell me now,” he whispered. When you still said nothing, he moved downwards and lightly kissed your throat. “Or now.” Then he traced the line of your cheekbone, he was so close to you, your lips almost brushing together. 

           It took you a lot of courage to reach up to him and shyly pull him down to you, his voice was lost against your mouth. He kissed you softly, carefully, and each second that has passed made his kisses intense. The gentleness was now gone and you knotted your fist on his shirt, pulling him harder against you.

           He groaned softly, low on his throat, and then his arms encircled you, gathering you against him. His tongue slipped inside your mouth, almost demanding— unlike the last time you did it together— and it’s nothing like you’ve ever experienced. You began to melt, the feeling of his tongue playing with yours caused your whole system to shut down and get lost to the pleasurable sensation he’s doing to you.

           Your nails dug deeper on his skin as your veins throbbed and your heart speeding up. Venti opened his eyes and observed your burning face, almost glowing under the raining sky.

           He clearly knows he wants you.

           All he wanted is just you and nothing else more. The closeness of your body against him is extraordinary. He feels you— all of you— pressed against him just like how he wanted, and he can detect your fragrance. It’s the most addicting scent he could ever imagine. He wants to breathe you, lick you, eat you, drink you, everything as long as he can touch and feel your whole body.

           He pulled down your sleeves and untied the ribbon until it made your dress fall off your shoulders, slightly exposing your chest for him. You quivered at the cold winds hitting your skin as his hands started to fondle your supple breasts.

           You looked away from him, trying your best not to get embarrassed while he continued to play with your perked nubs and started to give small licks whilst he looked at you. Please, he can do anything with you as long as he doesn’t keep staring and giving you that lustful gaze! You can’t handle it— you really can’t—

           “Ngh~!”

           You quickly covered your mouth at the sound you have made. His suctions intensified when he heard your cute moan, his hand held your back and dragged you closer. Oh, how he wished to just seize that hands of yours and release all the sounds you produce from his pleasuring, though he didn’t want to risk attracting nearby entities here.

           “V-Venti,” You clutched on his shoulders, eyes turning glossy that tears were beginning to form in the corner. “We shouldn’t— we shouldn’t do this here.” You bit back a moan as you stammered. Then your body sharply jerked when he flicked out his tongue and bit on your nipple, bringing you to draw a sharp cry at the sudden action.

           His ministrations didn’t cease, though you can see how he raised his hand in the air and closed it into fists. A strong gust of wind flashed past your bare skin, the air chilling your whole body you almost felt frozen on the spot. Your eyes caught the sight of some kind of barrier surrounding the shelter and before you could inspect it further, Venti held your head and pulled you down to a deep kiss.

           If what worries you is being caught, then there’s no need to worry about it anymore. He had already created a mist to hide this place and no one can find it as long as he holds the command to the winds. You’ve already accepted his invite and it’s unfair if you’re backing out already.

           He yanked your dress until they were out of the way and put them aside, his left hand latched on your wrist to prevent you from covering yourself while the other untied the ribbon fixed on your hair. Your surprised demeanor took him the chance to use the cloth to bind your wrists together, tight but not too much that can hurt you.

           He then reached for the ribbon on his cape and loosened it, leaving the cape to fall off from his shoulders as he stretched out towards you to give you one more kiss before he wrapped the cloth over your eyes. Everything went dark and your heart beat faster than ever, you can feel it ring on your ears so loudly that he might even hear how loud it was.

           A small lump was sitting on your throat and you let out a shaky breath when he turned you around, your back facing his chest. You can sense how he breathes behind you, hot air down your back which is starting to sweat and slipped down on his clothes. You didn’t want him to see your face now that it is blowing up inside, red and burning hot, grimacing at how his hands slowly wandered dangerously close to your core.

           His hands moved so agonizingly slow, it choked you. You swallowed hard in anticipation.

           He presses your naked back against his chest fully and your mind went blank all of a sudden.

           His fingers slowly go further up your thighs as he rubs small circles into your skin and observes how your breathing picks up from such a simple movement. 

           He must’ve presumed it’s an indication of excitement, he even attempted to run his hand over your panties, applying the minimum amount of pressure possible to further watch your reaction. Your lips parted and a soft whimper came out. You refrain yourself from grinding against his hand. You didn’t want to aggravate him and the only way is to obey his words if you want his attention to be solely focused on you.

           He doesn’t hesitate when he sets aside your panties, brushing his finger around your hardening clit before burying one inside, curling it the way he knows you like it best. You mewled under his touch, trying to hide your voice by biting down on your lips.

           You wanted to hold back your moans but it’s almost impossible if he continues to curl his fingers inside you like this, his long digits effortlessly massaging that one spot inside you that turns all your thoughts fuzzy, clouding it with nothing but the feeling of his fingers plunging your insides.

           The pleasure you felt intensified and grew even stronger the more he resumed his ministrations. He grows bolder now with his touches, the movements of his fingers quicker now than before that it’s practically a struggle to keep quiet. You bit your lip, hard, desperate not to make a sound, that you could even taste the blood sipping to your tongue.

           Your lover hissed as he pumps a second finger inside of you, barely able to make it fit. You squeezed around him every time he presses deeper, your tight cunt almost begging for more even though he wonders if he’ll be able to make anything fit.

           “Ahn~! Venti~ hah…” 

           A moan crawls free from your throat when he presses his fingers against your sweet spot. And once he watches how it makes you gasp and whimper, he gets addicted to it, moving his fingers harsh and fast.

           “Shh,” he hushed you near your ears, nibbling and giving teasing licks on the tip, but his voice has no real edge to it. His gaze is soft as he studies your flushed expression, nothing but adoration filling those crystal green eyes as he continues to pump his fingers in and out of you.

           Your eyes are scrunched tight and your head is settled on his shoulder as he continues to fuck you with his long fingers, practiced digits sliding in and out in ease, curling into that one special spot that always has you crying out for more. You begin to jerk your hips forward to meet his fingers, unable to hold your body back.

           “I-I’m close…” you mumbled shyly, closing your eyes when you feel your orgasm drawing near.

           “Already?” He teases, but his tone is gentle. You can feel the smirk creeping up to his face even if you can’t see anything. You gulped down and looked away from timidity.

           “Hold it a bit longer for me, will you?” You nodded your head and pressed your thighs together when his fingers went deeper inside. He continuously draws it again and again as the pressure inside you is threatening to release.

           He moved his fingers in and out three more times, almost rhythmic in his gestures. You want to hold it a bit more, you really do. But his digits playing your clit and curling it around just feels so good that you wanted to release so badly. Your tied hands attempted to reach to find his wrist to catch his attention, it was successful, however, he didn’t dare to stop.

           His lips brushed the side of your neck, biting it softly that made your breaths quickened. 

           “Venti— I’m so close, please! I-I can’t hold it anymore...!”

           Your walls clamped down on his fingers with a needy call of his name, as if unable to recall anything other than him and how he’s making you feel this way. 

           You cried loudly as your body trembled from the increasing tension inside. His fingers were moving faster, deeper, and harder. You curl your toes and square your shoulders, the moans you’ve released can be heard out loud from the ruins if Venti hadn’t quiet you down with a haste kiss.

           He let out a sharp hiss when your nails dug into his skin firmly. You don’t know where else to hold on, hands frantically searching anywhere for a hard surface to grip on.

           “Please— Venti...!” The blindfold was getting damped while tears fell from the sides of your face as you begged.

           “Come.”

           In an instant, you feel the familiar pressure rising in you, building up even further—and then you’re cumming on him, slit spasming and clenching all at once as he brushes your folds with his thumb. You’ve released your orgasm all over his hand that smeared his skin— Venti silently adoring the stickiness of your essence and the way it gleams under the raining sky.

           Your thighs tremble around his fingers long after he stops moving them, and when your voice has finally died out, he untied the knot from the blindfold, letting it fall onto your shoulder.

           You shut your eyes at the blinding light, adjusting yourself to regain your focus that was all blurred and hazy. He withdrew his fingers from you and raised it to study your cum that spread all over him. He looked at you then called your name as he pulled you close.

           “Open your mouth.” The sudden command made you jolt in your seat. You looked over your shoulder and raised your brow at him.

           “Huh?”

           “Open your mouth.” He repeated once more. Hesitantly, you meekly complied to his words, lips parting a bit that was too small for his likeness, but he didn’t complain. He deliberately dragged his fingers inside your mouth and you can taste your essence after he just fingered you.

           “Suck on it.” 

           A command like that would only lead you to a mounting embarrassment catching your entire body aflame, but it wasn't as though you could deny him. Whatever he wanted from you. That was the deal. Still, quieting your moans from his pleasing ministrations would be a difficult task. 

           Closing your eyes, you brushed your tongue on his salty digits, lapping up all the slicks that came from you. Venti moaned in surprise as your teeth grazed his finger. His eyes meeting yours with a desperation that made you squirm.

           He cursed under his breath and buried his face on the crook of your neck pulling you close to his chest. He bit his lower lip and peered at your flushed face that continued to drink his fingers dry. God, the feeling of your tongue giving him small licks then sucking it shyly riled him up so much, urging him to go further.

           He bit down on your shoulder gratingly, causing your back to arch in surprise, and choked yourself. Hearing your muffled noise made him draw his hand out in panic. You panted heavily and your lips trembled with each outlet of air, taking in deep breaths as you do so. He can faintly see a small drool slipping down the corner of your lips.

           His heart raced at the sight of it and his body went hot abruptly. He took off his hat and put it aside somewhere. He continued to gaze at your disheveled state, swallowing the lump sitting on his throat while he continued to undress.

           His hands rummaged to unbutton his shirt, leaving the top open until his chest was bare for you to see, the mark that was the same as yours on his chest faintly gleaming. 

           His hand flew to your neck to pull you into a deep kiss. You’re quick to indulge him, moaning lightly when Venti bit on your lip and let his tongue dart inside. 

           You wished to look at his face, expecting only that the expression of aesthetic delight you might find there would correspond to what you knew was your own. But you’d didn’t even catch a glimpse of his face, so instantaneous and urgent was his tongue. It overpowered all the senses that sought to reach some unreachable end from you.

           Before Venti could withdraw, his mind was far from its place. His arms were around you and he felt again the rush of helplessness, the sinking yielding, the surging tide of your warmth that left him limp. Your quiet and heated self was blurred and drowned into nothingness.

           He bent back your head and kissed you once more. He never gets tired of your kisses and the softness of your lips brushing against his. You clung to him to keep yourself still in your cloudy and hazy mind that was drowning and enjoying the sensation of his lips.

           Your kisses were so docile and gentle. So slow and soothing it sends his mind to go all over in place the more he feels your lips pressed against his that he’s begging for more.

           Within minutes, his lips are moving against yours, slow and steady, and his hands crept up to hold you by the small of your waist.

           You only continued your ministrations, squeezing and massaging his chest as you slowly grind against his thighs. 

           Time seemed to slow down for him when he opened his eyes, and it dawned on him you’re playing with his mouth— biting and sucking on it before you let out your tongue to alleviate any pains you have caused him.

           Your eyes were now shut as well and he noticed you seem to be taking your time to enjoy this moment. Your hips moving back and forth for a more subtle pressure against him and your face— words aren’t even enough to describe how beautiful you are to him— looked so peaceful, so flushed from the orgasm, from the kisses and yet it’s so serene for him.

           He can’t help but think that you really are beautiful.

           He extended out his hand and untied the cloth wrapped to your wrists, his hands guiding your arms to envelop them around his shoulders. One-touch and the intoxication is instant. Whatever you want to do is what he’ll do and there isn’t a thing he can do to stop you— not that he’d want to. 

           Just your scent sent him to a heady trance, one that doesn’t end until your bodies are still once more, just warm and snuggled in as close as two souls can be. Venti kissed the center of your chest, tracing out the outlines of the teal mark on your skin with featherlight kisses. 

           A small laugh escaped from you at the ticklish feeling, your hands tangling to his hair and removing the hair tie on his braids. You kissed the top of his head and caressed his hair lovingly whilst he enjoys himself burying his face between your breasts. 

           He really is captivated by just your own presence. 

           Your eyes shut as your heart throbbed as loud as the rain on the tin roof above you. Venti took in your perked nubs in his mouth, finding himself hungry as he was for you. Unreserved fire and desire ran through his nerves, his tongue hastily licking then lapping, tasting your sensitive nipples causing you to release a shaky moan.

            The need to touch, be touched, to take and give, nearly overwhelmed you. He placed you on his thighs, holding your hips and helping your body to grind against him, creating more of that delicious friction between the two of you. 

           Hunger surged inside him. A demand.

           More.

           "Mhm~!"

            You hid your face against his shoulder and bit on it to hold back the moan threatening to leave your lips. Venti hissed, both in bliss and pain, and thrust his hips to meet yours. You were panting heavily against him, the hot breath on his skin excited him further and he can’t get enough of it.

           The touch of his hands was so warm on your drenched skin that sent another burst of heat straight to your core and it ached you how you wanted him inside you so badly. He can already sense how damp his short was that came from your leaking cunt.

           “Venti…” you whined at the agonizing pain from your core that you could only feel his length against the cloth that separated you from him. “Please… I… I really need you…”

           Hearing your words instantly made his mind blank out of nowhere. Did he hear you right? You need him? Is he dreaming? Is this reality? 

           “Venti, please…!”

           He snapped out from his thoughts and looked at your pleading face. If you keep begging like that— face flushed, lips quivering, brows knitted together, eyes glistening with tears— he wouldn’t hold back his lust for you. 

           He quickly recomposes himself and reaches up to caress your cheek, flashing a gentle smile in your direction. You leaned on his tender touch— a sign that you’re giving him consent and accepting his love for you. The edge of his lips twitched upwards into a small smile, a genuine one at that. “I’ll handle the rest. Close your eyes and relax for me.”

           You slowly bobbed your head and proceeded to bury your face on his neck. Venti started to remove your soaked panties, dragging them along your thighs until they were out from your feet and throwing them aside. Your hold tightened, legs trembling from the sheer coldness of the rainy weather. He softly hushed you as he rubbed his hand against your hips to calm you.

           You’re getting desperate. Your toes curled in impatience, whining his name once more to remind him you needed him inside you now. “Impatient, are we?” He teasingly cooed to which you hide in embarrassment that he caught you.

           “Don’t worry, we’ll get to it soon.” He assured before pecking your hair. 

           He rested his palm on your hip, helping you lift yourself up as he quickly removed his garments and carefully guided you to his erect length. There’s a choked gasp from his lips when he feels your pussy slowly enveloping his cock, a shudder running up his spine when your hands fly from his cheeks to his shoulders to support yourself. 

           He instinctively gripped your hips, helping you lower down at your own pace until he was now fully inside of you. You whimper under your breath, feeling yourself start to stretch around him, how it’s becoming more painful than you’ve expected as each second passed by.

           He noticed how your chest quickly heaved up and down, panting heavily and moaning audibly with your head tilted sideward. He laced his hand with yours, your fingers tightening until he was all the way inside your tight cunt.

           “Hng… S-so good but it hurts!”

           You take a shaky breath as soon as he’s fully sheathed inside of you. His heart drops, beginning to panic that you were clearly in pain. 

           The uneven pace of your breathing is the most obvious thing he noticed, the way your nails are practically digging into his shoulders and the way you’re biting your lip to hide any pained whimpers made it even clearer that he should have prepared you for this better. Did he not stretch you enough when he fingered you?

           You take a moment to collect yourself. Venti waits patiently, forcing his hips to remain still every time he feels the urge to jerk upwards, and his efforts are rewarded when you slide your hips upward only to pull them down, eliciting a breathy moan from your lover.

           You repeat the same motion once. Then you do it again. And again. And again. And you keep rising and falling on his shaft at these uneven intervals until one angle has you gasping out an unexpected moan. 

           Venti locked his eyes with you, his hands guiding your hips to move up and down on his length.

           You repeated the ministration, head rolling backward when you came down and another breathy gasp spilled from your lips.

           And then the slow, tentative fucking completely stops and you’re riding him without hesitation, fingers digging into his back as you moan freely.

           It tempted him to jerk his hips upwards to meet yours, to listen to that moan that slipped from your bruised lips. And when he gave in to his desires, his thrust had you gasping and crying out a moan, so breathy and shaky that he engraved it inside his head of how cute and lewd you sounded for him. Then he solely dedicated himself to bounce you in his lap at this angle— one that kept you crying his name endlessly. 

           All his fingers were mindlessly traveling all over your body to keep you gasping and moaning and clenching and enjoying everything he offers you.

           “P-p-please—” you gasped out. 

           Harder, you want to tell Venti, because he’s being painfully gentle with how slow his thrusts become when your body is already willing to take so much more.

            Faster. Deeper. The words bounced around in your mind mockingly as you try to whine your way into getting him to understand them.

           Your body sharply twitched when he sunk his cock into you deeply at an alarming pace that your voice was broken when you wailed. Venti doesn’t know what you’re asking for, so he delivers everything he can offer to you. From his mouth latching to your nipples— biting, licking, and sucking on it when your breasts kept bouncing on his face so tauntingly. To his hand going down to rub your clit and to his hips as he gave another harsh thrust against you. All your please and wishes for him are already being granted and he won’t let a single one miss.

           There’s no pain as he pushes inside you, only the overwhelming pleasure is filling you up. It’s like your body was specially created for him with how snugly his cock rests inside you, and you almost whined when he pulled you out to begin thrusting because of how much you love the feeling of him inside you.

           The loud wail of pleasure you gasped within return tells him that whatever he did, he did it perfectly. You love every single thing he’s doing to you. All of his sensual touches and ministration are making your mind go all hazy, so lost that you could only think of him and his cock inside you.

           He can feel something building in your body, your core beginning to tighten around him, and you roll your head back as he continues to bounce you in his lap. Your back is arched so tightly that he worries that you’ll hurt yourself in this position if he fucks you any longer.

           Your breasts bounced each thrust he did sending your mind to go on cloud nine, seeing stars with how he keeps hitting that one spot as you wail loudly from the intensive pleasure. Venti watches your figure cautiously, trying his hardest not to shatter the moment, but he finds it impossible when all he can think about is how dangerously your head hangs, how he fears that it's going to roll off if he continues this vicious pace. 

           “[Name]…” His chest heaved when he said your name. “I love you,” his grip on your waist tightened, pace quickening with each thrust. “I want to fill you up— Moan my name, please. [Name], [Name], [Name]— I love you, I love you, I love you so fucking much.“

           He can feel himself growing addicted to this feeling, of your wetness around his cock and of your body being so willing to accept him to his fullest. He continued admiring how your eyes are clouded and filled with lust. How your whole face is so erotic for him, your lips drawing out his name, begging to go faster and deeper into you.

           “Venti, Venti, Venti— Ah~!! Faster, deeper, please, I beg of you!! Oh god— I-I-“

           Nails gripping and scratching both on his shoulders and back, you desperately feel the need to steady yourself, a desire you indulged by wrapping your legs tightly around his waist. A particularly harsh thrust has you gasping out loud, one that sends your mind reeling, cloudy, and blurry. You heard a low groan from him when you harshly bit on his shoulder to muffle down your noises and it turned you on so much you began to feel the pressure inside you increasing.

           He feels the beginning of your orgasm before you warn him of it, your body going stiff right as your nails begin to dig into his back. You clamped your thighs around his waist to pull him closer and deeper to you, he continues fucking you, and this is what has you gasping when he pushes you to your climax with a single perfectly-aimed thrust. 

           “Venti, Venti, Venti—” His name falls from your lips like a chant, every repetition of his name louder with each utter left from your lips. “Right there— don’t stop— hng! Yes, yes, hah~ Venti—”

           You moaned his name as you cum around his cock, and it’s to this sensation that he finds himself being pushed over the edge, he tightened his hands where they hold yours so delicately as he pressed forward and buried his head in your neck, the world around him fading as he loses himself in the sensation of you.

           For a moment, everything went still.

           Your legs tensed around his waist, desperately holding onto your lover as if holding onto the moment. As if trying to savor the sensation of his cock spilling his hot seed into you like you can make it last longer by clinging onto him tighter— and neither of you moved.

           There’s only the sound of Venti’s heavy breathing and your muffled panting, both of your minds clouded by pleasure. Your body went limp and he catches you easily as he lets you lean against him to regain your energy. 

           Once you found the stamina to move, you hummed on his neck and lightly nibbled on it that caused him to softly chuckle. He let you do whatever you pleased while his fingers ran through your long hair that sticks on your sweating body. His head toppled backward, finding his eyelids growing heavier, which allowed you to gain more access to play with his throat using your mouth.

           You felt his esophagus vibrated and that’s when you know he was satisfied with your short and quick treatment. 

           “Venti~” You cooed, smiling as you kissed his nose. Then you went to peck his eyelids, to his cheek, forehead, and lastly to his mouth. He hummed in satisfaction with the sensation of your lips and breasts gently pressed against his. Your fingers then traced the diamond design marked on his chest, silently awing of how it lightly glowed whenever you touched it. 

           He was still inside you and you seem unaware of it. Maybe the slightest movement can make your whole body sharply twitch or even your walls tighten around his cock in surprise. As much as he’d love to do that and tease you, he kept himself still and just relished in how warm and tight you are taking his whole length even after the recent orgasm he’s done to you.

           Venti groaned when you began to pull out of him, his tired arms failed to keep you in place on his lap. Your whole face reddened at the realization that he was desperate to be inside of you, you quickly averted your gaze away from him and reached for your dress to cloth yourself.

           However, your hand stopped midway when he called your name. You looked over your shoulder and tilted your head. “Wear my shirt,” He told you under his draped arm that covered his eyes. “Your dress is too thin and it’s still raining.” He reasoned before you could ask.

           A small oh elicited from you. Your heart fluttered at the thought he was concerned for your wellbeing. You took the shirt from the ground and slipped your arms in the sleeves, your skin slightly warmed when the soft cotton covered your upper body. Your cheeks flared a bit when you took in the familiar scent lingering on this shirt. It reminded you of him though you faintly smelled something mildly bitter that you don’t recognize.

           Your nose scrunched up at the unpleasant scent despite how you can mostly detect the sweet fragrance of fresh cecilias in it. Venti motioned you to come to him, his eyes begging and arms spread out already welcoming you to be next to him. You sighed at his clingy antics yet smiled a bit in amusement at how cute he was.

           You grabbed his cape first before settling on his lap once again, ready to indulge him a bit with your affections. “Cover yourself first.” You reminded and draped the green coat to his front. “Hmm,” He snuggled on your hand and placed his head on your chest. 

           He drifted into consciousness, then back out. The world began to blur, and random images seemed to float aimlessly around in the pool of his thoughts. A brush of a finger caressing his head momentarily brought him back to the outside world, but after a second he was once again lost. 

           The whole world felt so slow to him, and he tried to keep his eyes open, he really did, but it was too hard, and he was comfortable laying against you. Soon that was all that he was aware of: your soft skin embracing his cold body, the warmth of your arms wrapped around him. His eyes began to drift closed. He was blissfully unaware of what was going around him.

           Everything about him feels heavy from his arms to his feet. Hands absently holding your waist, closing his eyes one more time to enjoy the brief darkness as he muttered faintly against your chest,

           “Don’t leave me.”

 @genshin-idiot​

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere genshin impact x reader #yandere venti x reader #venti x reader #genshin impact venti x reader #genshin impact reader insert #venti #yandere venti #yandere #elliwrites #Illusory Sense

[roger-that-cap]

meet me in the gardens

summary: being the widow of a decently wealthy lord and sitting on a large plot of land automatically meant that you were a candidate for the program that you couldn’t say not to; the hosting. you had to sponsor a knight and keep them in your home for an entire year, which was troublesome enough on its own. but you never expected your knight to be a woman, and you certainly didn’t expect to have a full on illegal love affair with her, either. 

warnings: lots of emotions, feelings, slightly cynical and bitter reader- she’s honestly just being a realist, we are chugging forward, did not check for typos, format could be fucked up bc i’m posting from my phone quite literally minutes before i clock in- PATHETIC LMAO

word count: 2.7k

this is a short chapter by my standards, but it felt long to me because of the things in it??? this is part five! all other parts can be found on my masterlist, it’s my pinned post!

“What’s got you smiling like that?” Wanda asked while she tied your corset, not even needing to ask whether it was too tight or loose. You looked up in your vanity and immediately tried to wipe your smile away, but it was too late. She knew you better than anyone, and she had yet to see a thoughtful smile on your face, ever. Pietro, who had caught you going back inside the previous night, caught on to the fact that you looked more carefree, and that you just seemed to look like you were carrying around less. 

“Nothing.” 

“Hmm,” Wanda hummed, an entertained look on her face. Something told you that she already had an idea of what was going on, even though there was no way she could have. Besides, you hardly even knew what was going on. “I’ll ask again later.” She looked you in the eyes through the mirror, a slightly mischievous smile on her face. “Maybe then you’ll tell the truth,” she said, flicking you on the side of the head, and then letting it rest.

§§

Natasha was out in the village doing whatever it was the knights did one night, and she was planning on spending the night at a bed and breakfast before coming back in the morning. As disheartened as you were about not being able to see her for your stargazing, you were partly glad for it. You missed being with the twins. 

You had dinner with them alone, sitting and laughing about old memories and scheduling times to make new ones together. You loved the way you could be with them. Your laughter was allowed to go over the volume of a giggle without them looking at you like you had grown seven heads, your silverware were allowed to take a tumble onto your plate with a clatter without a second glance, and you were allowed to use whatever language you pleased. You missed the comfort that you felt with them, the comfort that your brain and the part of you that would always be the farm girl felt with them. 

“And Pietro chased him all the way off, you should have seen how terrified he was,” Wanda recapped, and you couldn't help but grin at Pietro, who was sipping wine with his charming grin. “That boy will never lift another skirt, I can assure you of that.” 

“I’m glad,” you mused, shooting Pietro a look that made him laugh. 

“Enough about me,” he said after swallowing a sip of his wine that was much more like a gulp. “We’re not going to talk about how you’ve been walking on the clouds for weeks now?” 

You nearly dropped your fork again. “What do you mean?”

“We’ve both realized,” Pietro said, motioning with his buttered knife towards his sister, who had a soft smile on her face as she observed your reaction. “That you have been significantly happier. Even with the circumstances-”

“Pietro,” Wanda hissed, but you just snorted and shook your head. 

“It’s like you found your own little pocket of happiness. We were worried about you, but, you’re doing alright.” Ever the blatant one out of the three of you, he leaned forward with his trademark smirk, eyes full of curiosity. “What do you know that we don't?” 

You hesitated for a second, mouth opening and closing twice as you grappled for anything to say, even a lie. And then, you settled on just shrugging your shoulders with a grin, shaking your head. “Honestly, Pietro, I know nothing. I don’t know anything.”

§§

Your heart was beating faster than normal as you looked at the woman next to you, your hand subconsciously itching closer to hers as you sat on the ground, ass on the blanket that you had brought out.  “I would like to… show you something.” 

It was probably the twentieth time that you and Natasha had met with each other, and still, you were entranced by her and everything that she did.  And you were entranced while you stared at her and waited for her answer, just a little nervous as to what she would say. 

As if she would ever say no to something you said. 

“Show me anything you’d like me to see,” Natasha urged on, and you fought back a smile. You stood up, and she did the same, and then you were picking up the blanket and walking side by side with her. It was quiet the entire way there as you walked in step with her, hand brushing against her every few steps and sending tingles down your arm every time it happened. 

The feeling that you got when she touched you made you feel both alive and scared to death. You weren’t stupid. You knew what you were steadily collecting more than friendly feelings for her, and that she may have been on the same page you were on. The game you were playing was a dangerous one, the risk threatening to swallow up the reward more and more by the day. 

You had known that being with her by yourself was bad judgement, ever since the first time you did it. Hell, the look you gave her the first time you met her was far from appropriate. Every single conversation that you had with her was a risk, and both of you knew it. And now that your soon-to-be husband was approaching, it was even more scandalous. No one knew and you hoped no one would ever find out, but hiding forever wasn’t a choice. But what would you be hiding if there were no true feelings? 

You hated yourself for falling for her and her pretty words. 

“I used to come here to escape,” you started, pulling yourself out of your thoughts, voice low as you passed the tree line to get into the thick of the woods. You narrowly missed stepping in a particularly muddy spot on the ground. “This was my spot, before I got the garden of course.”

“The woods?” 

“No, Nat,” you said, slightly amused as you stepped over a fallen branch. You smiled a bit when the sound of running water hit your ears.  “The stream.” 

You knew the exact second that she saw it, because her eyes widened and her breath hitched.  “That’s not a stream, that’s a river.”

“It’s the forgotten part of the main river,” you explained. “It’s much skinnier and more shallow, and it doesn't have nearly as much fish coming through, so people forget about it.” You looked towards her and saw how intrigued she was by it, so you judged her armor free body with a slight smirk. “What? Never seen running water?”

“I lived in the capital, all they had was the ocean. And even then I was never allowed on the harbor if I wasn’t selling clams, and I didn’t sell clams much.”

You felt silence start to grow between the two of you, so you said the first thing that you thought of. “You don’t look like a clam seller.” 

He looked away from the river and to you, a slight grin on her face even as she talked again. “And you don’t look like a petal kisser, blossom, but look where we are today.”

Your heart raced in your chest. “Blossom? Is that what you’re calling me now?” 

“It’s only payback for calling me ‘cherry’,” she said, and you stifled a laugh at the retired name, glancing up at the red hair that you had gotten inspiration from.  

“You didn’t actually mind it,” you said, looking off into the distance, only looking back at her when a warm hand slotted over yours. You blinked and looked down at your hands, which she had intertwined, and then back up at her again, only to see that she was staring straight ahead in the dark at the way the moonlight hit the water. 

“How could I?” She asked softly, a subtle breeze picking up.”You were the one saying it.” She looked at you, and in the dim lighting, you could have sworn that her eyes were saying, you can call me anything in the book, and I will own it proudly. And then, the look changed to something else, something less devoting, and something more passionate. It took you a few seconds to understand what the look meant, and before you could fully register it, she was leaning forward. 

A few seconds came and went where you could feel your heartbeat all over, and you tried to look somewhere other than in her eyes. You couldn't. “Don’t look at me like that.” When all Natasha did was tilt her head to the side and give you an even more intense version of the look, you let out a small sigh. “Please.”

“Why not?” 

She knew why. She knew why probably better than you did after living in the capital. She saw what happened firsthand to people who committed crimes, and those who committed second degree adultery. If you two did what you were wanting to do with your entire heart, you would fall right into that category. “I know where this is going,” you said softly, “and this won’t end well.” 

“Why not?” She asked again, and you turned your head to the side, shaking it slightly and closing your eyes. 

“Because, I’m about to get married,” you hissed, and though you didn’t mean to sound so angry, you did. Natasha was hardly affected. 

She lifted her arms and let them fall against her clothing with a soft slap that still echoed in the night. “You’re not married right now.” 

“But I will be, Natasha,” you said, gripping her hands and squeezing  them softly, begging for her to understand you. “What’s going to happen when I get married to a man who already has a streak for murdering his wives, and he finds out that I have feelings for you? He’ll kill me. He’ll kill you. And if he doesn’t, we’ll both be hung for adultery, after being put into torture camps for being… together as women.” 

“I’m not going to let anyone hurt you, Y/N, you know that.” The fervency in her tone nearly shocked you as she took a bold step forward, nearly surrounding you in her scent and energy. “I would never let anything happen to you.” 

“You’re too important for me to condemn to death and dishonor just because I have feelings for you. It was selfish of me to meet with you in the first place, but I can’t let myself do this. It’s a bad idea,” You said, voice hushed even though no one would have followed you. You were trembling, hand shaking more than anything else as you tried to understand how fast everything was moving; forward and backwards, sewing together and ripping apart all the same. If you were any more attentive to her expression, you would have seen the grin that lit up her face as your confession. “We were just about to cross a line. We’ve crossed quite a few dotted ones, but this one? It is bold and blaring.” 

“Blossom,” Natasha started, and you just shook your head and kept going. 

“And-and what we were just about to do? That crosses the line. We cannot.” 

“Do you really think my feelings for you are going to change depending on whether or not we kiss?” She asked, her voice slightly deeper than usual, almost sounding insulted. “You’re telling me to close my heart off from you, not to not kiss you. And you know that.”  

“What if I am?” You asked, eyes starting to burn with tears. “I’m doing it for the right reasons, Nat. I’m trying to save us from a world of hurt when reality finally sinks in.”

“That isn’t today.” She took another step forward and this time, you couldn't find the strength in you to step back. “And it isn’t tomorrow, and not even within the fortnight. You and I have something, and I know that you know it’s different. It’s special. We would be so stupid to ignore it, so stupid.” 

“I know, I know,” you said, voice tapering off into a whine as you slowly felt your resolve come apart, even though you thought it was stronger. “I’m sorry.”

 “You don’t have to apologize,” Natasha said after a few minutes of pure silence, and you found yourself exhaling. “I just wish things were different.” 

  “I know,” she said, and you turned to look up at the sky, tears threatening to come down on your cheeks. The stars seemed to twinkle and wink at you, talking amongst themselves about a future you had no idea about just yet. 

“Guess they’re never gonna line up,” you murmured to yourself, and then you heard Natasha grumble something from your side, and then she was coming closer, a barreling energy force full of passion and intent, and you knew exactly what she was coming for. For less than a split second, you thought about it. And then you turned your head and met her halfway. 

You would have been surprised by the passion in it if you weren’t just as desperate for the contact. You twisted in her arms, already wrapped around you as she drew you in close, closer than you had ever been with her, and the tears that were welling up before were now escaping for a different reason. Your lips were pressing into hers, moving fluidly and with an air of fervor that she matched equally. You felt wanted, and needed, and you felt loved. You felt the tenderness of the moment with every brush of her fingers on the back of your neck and with every rub of your back over the thin material of your night dress. 

Your legs were shaking, and she noticed before you did that you were getting weak in the knees. She held you up and pulled back slightly, just enough for you to feel her lips brush against yours while she asked if you were okay, like she wasn’t willing to take herself from you just yet. And honestly, you weren’t ready for her to leave you, either. You nodded, and she leaned in again, much slower, and then you had time to think. 

Her eyes weren’t the same shade they were when the sun hit them, they were almost an eerie pale blue, but they were still just as gorgeous to you, especially now that they were slanted with desire. Her hair wasn’t perfect like she somehow always managed or it to be, and you realized that it was because you had gotten a hand to run through it despite the way that she had previously held you like a lifeline. Her lashes were long, and you swore that she was close enough that you could count them. Her cheekbones were accentuated in the lighting, making her look like something straight out of a fairy tale, like a floating fae creature that led people to safety. In that moment, you could have sworn that she was the answer to every prayer you had ever whispered, to every question you had ever asked your etiquette teachers. In that moment, and in every moment to come, she was your ending and beginning, your creation and destruction, your sunrise and sunset. She was Natasha Romanoff, and in that moment, no wedding or murderous man even held a candle to the way you felt about her.

  What a beautiful person. 

“Now you’re looking at me strangely,” Natasha said, her voice quieter than you had ever heard it as the both of you treated over the moment carefully, trying not to break it and leave it in shambles. “What are you thinking about?” 

“How I’m going to have to pretend like this never happened in a few weeks,” you said softly, and part of you hated yourself for bringing up the bad part of the future so soon after you both had just lost all ties to reality. 

“You don’t have to,” she said, stroking your hair. “We can just keep doing what we’re doing, sneaking off in the night and coming back in the morning before anyone realizes. Nothing really has to change, I just want you to know that I… that we can be whatever you want us to be.” 

“As long as we’re in the confines of the garden walls.” 

“And now the woods,” Natasha said, and you couldn’t help but laugh in her arms. 

“And now the woods."

****

this is short, but i couldn’t see anything being tacked on to this. we’re at an important part, and from here it’s gonna be fun!! thank y’all for reading; if you liked it please drop a like and a reblog bc it makes my day!! comments also make me ascend y’all

tags!! : tags! : @teenwonder @saamwilscn @procrastinatingsapphictrash @fayhar @8plasma @slut-for-nat @dontmindmejustreading @swords-are-cool @200605chaeng @thescottishavenger @antidaytime @jenny-song @madamevirgo @natasha-danvers @blackxwidowsxwife​ @shycucumbersandwich @dailyavengering @xxxtwilightaxelxxx @ima-gi--na-tion @chickenhavewisdom

so sorry if i forgot anyone!!!!!

#natasha romanov x reader #natasha x female reader #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x fem!reader #lgbt marvel #marvel fanfic #marvel fanfiction #marvel au #my fics #natasha x reader #knight!natasha #knight au #lesbian!natasha #natasha romanoff x female reader

[certifiedskywalker]

Reunion - Poe Dameron

Anonymous said: could you do some poe x solo!reader where she tells him about kylo being her brother

Poe left with BB8 on a mission to collect intelligence regarding the whereabouts of Luke Skywalker, your uncle. A day after his scheduled return when you get word that he was captured by the First Order. You’re struck with fear and worry, fretting over how your family could be lost. It is then you get word that Poe Dameron somehow made it back and is healing from his wounds.

“Where is he?!”

“Who?”

“Dameron, Poe Dameron!”

“He’s been logged, but we’re only letting ranking officials in to see-” You flashed your credentials at the nurse, whose eyes widened at the sight. “Oh! Lieutenant Solo!”

“Which room?”

“Here, follow me,” the nurse said, quickly moving out from behind the desk. 

Her calmness and steady steps infuriated you. Your heart beat wildly in your chest and your pace was nearing a swift jog. Panic still held you in a tight choke hold; just as tight as it had been when your mother told you of Poe’s return. The moment after she told you, you made a mad dash to the medbay, pushing past anyone that stood in your way.

“He’s in poor condition,” the nurse said, breaking you from your thoughts. “He’s been drifting in and out of consciousness. But he is stable.”

“How can he be stable but unconsciousness?” 

As you asked, you quickened your pace. A new wave of desperation fell over you. You needed to see Poe. You needed to see and learn what had happened; though you were scared to find out. And scared too see how poor his condition truly was. 

“Well, it’s difficult to explain, really. He had a high burst of adrenaline, which got him here but then it crashed and -here’s his room- but, as I said, it crashed when-”

You ignored the nurse’s attempt to explain the medical reasoning for Poe’s condition. Though, when you saw him, part of you wanted to know what made him look so small. For as long as you had known Poe, loved Poe, he had been larger than life. He had been strong, with a smile and presence and took a chunk out of any room. It took strength to hold on as he was, but he looked as if the galaxy had chewed up him and spat him out. 

“Poe…”

You walked over to his bedside, your footfalls falling into a beat that nearly matched the steady beeping of the vitals monitor. His tanned skin was pale and bruised in places. Cuts on his cheeks and one across the bridge of his nose made your stomach twist. He had been tortured, beaten, but the rise and fall of his chest was a reminder that he was alive. Perhaps that meant that your worst fears were fruitless, left unfounded.

You reached a shaking hand out to grab Poe’s. The flesh of his hand was still warm despite the coldness of the medbay. The limpness of his fingers was startling as you intertwined yours with his. You didn’t dare squeeze for fear of somehow waking him from his much needed rest. You did not move a muscle; not even when another nurse brought in a chair for you to sit in. Still as a pilotless fighter, you stayed standing by Poe’s bedside.

Time passed around you and the silent Poe. You weren’t sure as to how much time had passed until the door to his room hissed open.

“Y/N.”

You turned and met your mother’s gaze. Leia’s brown eyes were sad, glued to the scene before her. She saw your joined hands and lingered in the doorway, knowing that you wanted to be the first to be with Poe when he woke. Though, in the moment, you wanted answers.

“Did he do this?”

“It’s impossible to tell.”

“There’s no Force signature or something?” You were grasping for the right words, “there has to be some way to tell, to know that...”

“If you had finished your trying with your uncle, you would know that the Force doesn’t quite work like that. It’s not like a ship leak you can trace unless it’s left on purpose.” You squeezed your eyes shut out at Leia’s words. You shut them to control your anger; and to block the tears that threatened to spill out and over.

“If I had finished my training I would be dead,” you replied, “or worse: I’d be like Ben.”

When you opened your eyes, you met Leia’s gaze. Her mouth was slightly open in shock. You hadn’t said your brother’s name in so long. Even now, with his name said and hanging in the air of the room, it felt like a ghost. A tear slipped down your cheek at the thought.

“Tell me when he wakes,” Leia said softly, “after you’ve talked.”

“Gener-Mom,” you began to say, taking a step forward. But Leia was already gone. You bit your bottom lip to keep it from quivering as you listened to her walk down the medbay hall. Eventually, her footfalls grew quiet and you couldn’t feel her presence nearby.

Coldness left in her wake reminded you of the chill you felt the day you lost your brother. It was as if the entire galaxy had been filled with the cold snow of Hoth, only it was invisible. Every step and breath was harder, heavier. You were younger then, but you knew what the cold meant. It was darkness, the very thing you family had fought and was fighting. Ben had succumbed to it and left you, your family, lost in the snow.

“Crying over me?”

You gasped Poe’s name and turned your attention away from the now empty doorway. Despite the evident pain he was in, Poe was smiling at you. His grin coaxed you into moving to be as close to him as the medical cot and equipment in the room would allow. You smiled and, when you did, you felt the wetness that had gathered on your cheeks. Quickly, you wiped them away. You hadn’t even known you were crying.

“H-hey you,” you stammered. At the shakiness of your voice, Poe’s smile fell. He shifted in his cot, pressed his back against the small, metal headrest. 

“I’m okay,” he said, giving your hand a squeeze. “C’mere.” 

When Poe lifted his free hand and pulled his blankets up to make room for you, you felt your entire heart lurch with relief. Carefully, you clambered into the cot with Poe and wrapped your arms around him. You maneuvered around the tubes and wires connected to his flesh, fearful that knocking them would alert the medical staff of his lucid state. Selfishly, you wanted Poe to yourself, even if it was only for a little while. 

“You know I couldn’t not see you again,” Poe said softly, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I promised you that I would be back.”

“I know,” you whimpered. All of your strength and stoicness was gone now, held loosely, but warm, in Poe’s arms. 

“What’s wrong then? Tell me,” Poe’s voice had lost it’s signature, confident edge. Exchanged it for a tone of deep concern. He was worried about you.

You craned your neck so you could look up at him from where you head rested against his shoulder. His brown eyes were darker under the synthetic lights of the room. With a slightly trembling hand, you reached up and trailed your fingers along his jaw. His already half-lidded eyes closed at the contact. In a way that was more longing than sensual, you brushed your lip along Poe’s full bottom lip. The sigh he released at the touch kissed the skin of your hand.

“You’re still really good at distracting me,” Poe murmured. A bit of lightness had returned to his voice which relieved the ache in your chest.

“I couldn’t distract myself from worrying about you.” 

Poe opened his eyes and, when you thumb brushed against the corner of his mouth, he pressed the softest of kisses to it. A smile crept it’s way onto your lips and you felt your stomach twist. Despite wanting to savor the moment, bask in the fact that your love was back by your side and alive, you also wanted an answer. No, you needed an answer.

“Poe….who did this to you?”

His gaze fell from yours to his lap. A shuddering, haggard breath shook in Poe’s chest. The dash of contentment that washed over him disappeared in an instant. You shifted in his arms so that you could look into his eyes. When Poe finally met your gaze again, you could see the fear that was nestled there. 

“Kylo Ren.”

Coldness returned to wrap its arms around you, a chilling reminder of the darkness that threatened to engulf your family. It had nearly destroyed Poe. Your eyes grew suddenly misty as you looked into his eyes. At the sight, he reached to hold your hold in his hand.

“Hey, I’m alright,” you pressed your face into the meat of his palm and closed your eyes. Poe, somewhat startled by your tears, continued to comfort you. “He’s more interrogation droid than man. He got to me, but it’s nothing we can’t fight. Once we find BB8, we’ll be ahead of him, alright? We’ll be okay.”

“No,” you whispered as you opened your eyes. “We’ll never be done with him.”

“Baby,” Poe said softly, “what do you mean?”

You looked into his eyes, savored the feeling of his concern, his love for you. After you told him the cold truth, he might not look at you the same. “He’s my brother.”

Poe’s eyes widened but he did not recoil as you originally thought he would. His hand remained pressed against your cheek, with his thumb rubbing soothingly against the skin. When the silence stretched on, you pulled away from his touch. You readied yourself to leave in a rush; a trait that your mother said you got from your father.

“Kylo Ren is-

“Ben Solo,” you finished for him. You snuck a glance at Poe only to find he was still looking at you. Despite the shock in his expression, there were still hints of affection in his gaze. 

Poe let out a heavy sigh and laid back in his cot. “And I thought meeting your father would be intense.”

Poe’s quip was enough to cut the heavy tension that had rested in the air around you. At his words, a sharp, bitter laugh fell from your lips. You had to place a hand on your chest to keep from tumbling into a fit. When you managed to collect yourself, you looked back at Poe. There was a slight smile on his lips as he stared back at you.

“Too soon?”

“How can you...how can you smile and make jokes right now?” A small flame of anger burned in your stomach. How could he be so light at a time like this? 

Then the fire fizzled out under a wash of pure admiration. You loved Poe for that very reason. For, whenever it felt like the world, the galaxy, was crashing down around you, he could lift it up again. He could lift you up, save you from the drowning depths of your mind. Poe could do it so naturally, so effortlessly, and you were lost in him.

“Because your laugh heals all wounds,” Poe teased as he leaned towards you. He took your face in his hand and held your gaze. “Because I love you, no matter what, and I know you get trapped in here,” he tapped the tip of his index finger against your forehead, “and I want you here, with me, Lieutenant Solo. Can you stay with me?”

Without hesitation you replied, “always.”

Poe smiled at your answer and leaned in. For the first time in cycles, Poe’s lips have found yours. Warmth spread to every nerve ending in your body and the coldness melted away.

#poe dameron #poe dameron x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron imagines #poe dameron fanfic #poe dameron fanfiction #poe x reader #poe imagine #poe imagines #poe fanfic #poe fanfiction #star wars #star wars imagine #star wars imagines #star wars fanfiction #star wars fanfic #poe dameron x solo!reader #solo!reader #ben solo #leia organa #tfa

[silkylious]

Limbo (Bakugo Katsuki x Fem!Reader)

Pairing: bakugo katsuki x female reader warnings: heavy angst, eventual tiny bit of fluff at the end

omf this request is so nice i feel so bad that my writing is literally garbage in this, but thank you sm for requesting this!! <3 and im so sorry if i didn’t do your request justice (i legit hate my writing here :’))

To say the state of your relationship was unbearable would be the euphemism of the century.

Your thoughts often ran amuck, always hopelessly crawling back to that one despaired curiosity; wondering if he shared the same sentiment about your wishy-washy “friends” status as you did. He probably didn’t. That’s the seemingly unshakable brick wall that would inevitably dead-end your lovesick daydreams, each and every time. Though when his roughed-up hands linger on your skin a millisecond too long, when his steeled stare melts, hard rubies morphing into blazing lava pits, threatening to mar your very heart and soul with their scorching intensity –you’re not exactly certain you’d mind that– that’s when a flicker of something ignites within you. Hope, longing, doubt. Whatever it is, it terrifies you. Because you’re agonizingly aware of what that entails. He’s got you hook, line and sinker, but torturously he refuses to do anything with that. Almost like pulling someone in for a hug then abruptly and without explanation stopping midway, he keeps you at arm’s length. Not too far, not too close. And how that cycle destroyed you.

Katsuki was the type to jump into action and ask questions later. Except a lot of the times when these questions pertain to his own emotions, he didn’t even try to answer them, opting to shove them to the corners of his psyche, collecting dust, steadily accumulating until they become too much to ignore and he (sometimes quite literally) explodes. It’s a vicious loop that he could never break away from, he’d even come to find a sordid comfort in it. His coping mechanism was by no means healthy, far from it, but he’d grown familiar to the toxicity.

Katsuki couldn’t make heads nor tails of his feelings for you. Whenever he impulsively threw himself into the lion’s den that was your affection, caught in the moment, in the glimmer of genuine adoration in your eyes, he never came back the same. A piece of his heart would irreversibly split off and reside in the palm of your hand, he was scared that nothing would be left of it, that he wouldn’t be able to regain his bearings until it was too late. You so effortlessly juggled with his feelings, all with a single smile, it scared him that you had so much power over the fluttery sensation in his chest and yet, in the moment, it felt good. It felt so good to indulge in whatever fucky feeling was messing with his head, to let you hold him in the depths of obscurity with all prying eyes shut and what little words exchanged hushed. It felt so alleviating to feel skin on his own (for once not in battle), gentle, comforting but not coddling. It was unspoken between you that you were both more than friends. You knew it, he knew it. Neither of you ever mentioned it. What neither of you knew, however, was how far the other’s feelings ran.

But as high as your silent love made him feel, he crashed back down into the concrete when he was left to his own devices. Without your intoxicating scent, distracting touches fogging his rationality, Katsuki had all the time in the world to overthink. And overthink he did. His pride picked apart the delicate flowering in his heart, ripping it petal by petal until nothing was left but a garden of beautifully withered leaves, a condemnation to what he considered a weakness.

Katsuki was a taker by every sense of the word. Basking in your wispy adoration, only to brush you aside in favor of focusing on academics once he’d had his fill of your love. It was sickening.

Maybe it was the fact that you hadn’t outright confessed to him, maybe that’s what soothed the overbearing guilt that crawled up his throat whenever he saw that dejected face of yours, the one you made because of him. If your feelings for him ran deep, surely you would have said something by now, at least that’s what he thought. Or more precisely, that’s the excuse his mind conjured up in hopes of easing his conscious, trying to convince himself that self that yes, he was hurting you, but at least he wasn’t hurting you that bad. He was infinitely aware that this doesn’t put him in any sort of moral high ground, nor does it justify his actions, but, again, it was a last-ditch effort to relieve his anguish if just by a little bit, even if he knew that excuse was bullshit.    

Surely he knew, there’s no way in hell someone as hawk-eyed as him didn’t notice the tyranny he held over the porcelain pitter-pattering of your heart, didn’t notice the fleeting, love-filled glances you sent his way. This was getting ridiculous, you were starting to believe he was taking some twisted sense of pleasure from your heartache, but he wouldn’t do that, right? He didn’t derive some sick kick out of having you indefinitely under his thumb, at his beck and call… right? A few months ago, you would have answered those uncertainties with a resounding “No!” defending his cruel behavior till the bitter end. But now…

Now you weren’t so sure.

And yet you still found yourself in his dorm, on his bed. It was supposed to be another study gathering, but one thing was glaringly missing. Y’know… the gathering. Kirishima was out training and he hadn’t bothered to invite the rest of his brain-dead, self-proclaimed squad. And that’s how you found yourself alone. With your best friend and secret crush. Just dandy.

Your hands were restless. Pulling at the seams of his blanket, cracking your own fingers, picking up your pencil for a brief moment of concentration, answering one or two questions only to drop it back on the mattress again and fidget some more. Katsuki wasn’t fucking blind, and your unease was ticking him off. Though he surprisingly hadn’t said a thing about it just yet, he was clearly nearing his wit’s end. His silence didn’t prevail for much longer, the meek sigh and not so subtle glance you chanced his way being his tipping point.

“What.” It came out as a statement, a demand rather than a question. What was he demanding? He hadn’t thought of that yet, his temperamental limbs already taking the wheel and pressing on the gas without a destination in mind, just being short fused for the sake of it. Was it even his place to be making demands in this situation? Katsuki knew the answer to this one like the back of his hand, a solid no.

“What…?” You really had no idea what Bakugo was expecting with a question like that. He still had the audacity to roll his eyes.

“The hell’s got you so jumpy?”

“It’s nothing…” It was a lot more than nothing, that’s for sure.

“Don’t lie to me, (name). What the fuck is up with you?” Ah, there it is again. That look. His words were as cut-throat as ever, and his mouth was still pulled into that seemingly permanent scowl. But his eyes conveyed something that was whole worlds asunder from his harsh tone. Golden brows furrowed as they usually were, though unusually upturned just the slightest bit. You despised that look. It ensured that you’ll forever be caught in his grasp, forever there for him when he never spared you the time of day.

Your lungs constricted by a force of gorgeously wretched agony. Katsuki wasn’t fair when he bared his soul to you like this, it filled you with such fervent euphoria that torrefied its way through your being, singeing your veins with luminous infatuation. And it hurt. Because you knew he’d cage himself right up as soon as the moment of vulnerability perished.

A crystalline sheen permeated your vision. This wasn’t going to end well.  

“I said it’s nothing,” Your voice raised. You hadn’t meant for the words to be as frosty as they came out, but it seemed like your subconscious was utterly done with the tedium of heartbreak he keeps putting you through.

“What is fucking wrong with you? I was literally just asking why you were being so goddamn obnoxious today and then you go and make a big fuckin’ deal out of nothing!”

“Well, maybe I’m just fucking tired of giving you everything I have and getting nothing in return, Katsuki!”

Your chest rose and fell with each scalding breath that entered your lungs. The blood through your veins was pumping. Never had you been confrontational, and your sudden outburst wasn’t exactly welcome to your system. You wanted to vomit. This was not how you wanted things to turn out, you absolutely needed to leave, distance yourself from the emotional strain he was inflicting on you.  

Without taking notice of the panicked glint in the cherry red of his irises, you bolted out of the suddenly claustrophobic room, leaving Katsuki to stare at his agape door before flickering his unfocused attention to your supplies still laying on his bed.

Katsuki erupted time and time again, with you being as patient as a receiving end could ever be. It’s specifically because of your godly patience that he never considered what he would do once you erupted.

With your back sliding down your dorm room door, and little friction stopping your descent, you wondered and maybe even wished he’d call after you, come banging on your door with bristling apologies on the tip of his tongue. However, the jarring reality was very clear to you. You’d decided on that day, with your head buried in your tear-stained pillow, that these were the last tears you’d ever shed on him, that you were going to put him through the same wringing hell he’d put you through.

You were going to ignore Bakugo Katsuki’s existence just like he’d periodically ignored yours.

The following week had been bleak at best and excruciatingly bitter at its worst for the both of you. It was so strange having to adjust to the absence of the other, even if your company more often than not had been a quiet one, it was company nevertheless. The most grueling part though, was your shared friend group. They’d noticed that something was obviously awry, but since neither of you said a thing about it, they decided it would be best if they didn’t either. The awkward dead silences during lunch were still purgatory to behold. But after a few more slow paced days, the sun seemed to shine bright again. For you, that is.

You didn’t realize how much of your schedule revolved around Bakugo until he was completely out of it. How much time you spent with him, dreading him, thinking about him… him, him, him. He’d consumed your thoughts from the first sparks of dawn till the hallows of dusk. You had so much free time now that he was out of the picture, it was crazy. The more time you spent on yourself, on your hobbies, getting to know other classmates outside of your immediate friend circle, the duller the ache in your chest. Until it was but a static buzz. Yet you couldn’t deny that, with time, your fury had mellowed out, leaving behind a cold loneliness you couldn’t elude whenever your aimless stare landed on him, almost like it was drawn to him by muscle memory.

He was the exact opposite.

You’d think the throbbing within him whenever you finally gazed his way then instantaneously looked in the opposite direction would knock come modicum of sense into his stubborn head. But nope. And seeing you thrive without him only cemented what he already knew. He really was no good for you. So much so that it barely took anytime for you to readjust to the lack of him in your life, and not only did you adjust, you were the best he’s ever seen you both mentally and academically. In the first week of you ditching him completely, his bruised ego kept him for reaching out to you, but now, seeing that elated grin on your face –the one that had been gradually dwindling over the past few months– he didn’t want to take your newfound happiness away, he’d figured he’d done you more than enough harm already.

Heart heavy with reluctance, Katsuki made the decision to give up on your relationship. Deciding to wordlessly cheer you on from the sidelines and watch you bloom, flourishing into the person he robbed you of being for a chunk of your life, though whenever your spring hit, it would be without him. Until some day in the future where his pride wasn’t as suffocating, where he could genuinely, wholeheartedly repent his grievances and only hope for your forgiveness.

Kirishima never took Bakugo for a quitter, hell would freeze over before he even thought such a thing. So this was certainly a shock. What was even more shocking ­– and overwhelmingly concerning– was the fact that Katsuki had willingly, on his own accord confided in him, and he’d, in his own roundabout way, taken accountability for being a gigantic douche to you. As much as the redhead respected his friend’s decision to stay clear of you, he couldn’t help but wish you’d just talk to one another for once. Kirishima really was a saint, having to listen to two idiots ramble about how much they miss the other.

“Listen, man. I know you feel bad and all that, but maybe you should just talk to her? I’m sure she’d like some closure on this just as you do, even if that doesn’t mean things will go back to the way they were.” Eijirou tried to reason, praying to whatever higher being out there that Katsuki would just get the fuck over himself and communicate with you.

“Fuck no. That’s not fucking happening, shitty hair,” Kirishima rolled his eyes at the oh so affectionate nickname, thoroughly done with his best friend’s melodrama. Welp, I guess there’s only one thing left to try. He heaved internally, mentally and physically preparing himself for Bakugo’s tantrum.

“Well, you know that if you won’t talk to her, others will, right? I heard some guys saying they’re gonna ask her ou–”

“Shut the fuck up! I don’t give a rat’s ass who asks her out!” He definitely did. Eijirou hid his smile. Checkmate.

“Whatever you say, dude.”

Later that day, three distinctly powerful knocks woke you up. Needless to say, you didn’t think that night would end up with you and Katsuki staring each other down, seated on your bed at one in the morning. Words got stuck in his throat, so he just… noiselessly watched your face, as if trying to telepathically ram his constipated emotions into you, in hopes that you’d make sense of them. Obviously, that didn’t work.

“Did you come banging on my door at one in the morning just to stare at me, Bakugo? I mean I know I’m pretty but still–”

“Shuddup.” Not really the best thing to say to you after weeks of radio silence. You were about to make another salty remark, but he opened his mouth first.

“I fucked up,” The fact that he was acknowledging he was at fault was… something. But that wasn’t nearly enough to pay off the debt off turmoil he’d caused you.

“No shit.” You replied without missing a beat. The ice that tinged your words caught him off guard, but he really shouldn’t have been surprised. He sighed, knowing he’d have to strip himself of everything, including his pride (especially his pride) down to his very core, to have a go at a second chance.

And so, he did.

He poured his everything out for you to observe, without an ego film distorting his words. Syllables reeked of muted agony, he really had rid himself of anything and everything that wasn’t his deepest soul. He finally offered you himself just as you had done countless times before. Katsuki swore that his heart would –and always has been– explicitly yours, he’d roar that fact at the constellations above if you so wished him to. And while it would take a while to heal from coruscating blisters he’d inflicted, you were more than content mending and welting your heart with his.  

#bakugo x reader #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki x reader #bakugo katsuki x reader #bakugou imagine #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugou x reader #katsuki bakugo x reader #bnha bakugo katsuki #bakugo angst #this is so bad :')) #i kinda gave up at the end fuck #i literally hate this so much whats wrong with my writing #is it just me or does it suck idk #im going night night

[harrytpotter]

A 100 Years of Love — One-Shot

Plot: James Potter asks Y/N - his best friend - for advice on how to impress a certain girl he fancies, unbeknownst to him that she was hopelessly in love with him.

Pairing: James Potter x Fem!Reader

A/N: Here i am twice in the same day with a new James imagine, because that’s how obsessed with him I am! Hope you guys like it, and please keep in mind that English isn’t my mother language, hence any probable grammar mistake. :)

Being a sixth year at Hogwarts was bittersweet. As much as you were happy that studies were almost over and so were the anguish concerns about exams, grades and graduating, you were also undeniably sad as you could feel the end of it all approaching at a fast pace. To think you soon wouldn’t be able to wander through the castle’s hallways after curfew with your friends, feeling the thrill of not knowing whether you’d be catched or not; to think you wouldn’t party hard with them at the Gryffindor tower after a Quidditch win; to think you wouldn’t be surrounded by your friends 24 hours a week; and, lastly but most importantly, to think you wouldn’t be seeing him often, it just... hurt. Not that seeing him every single day didn’t hurt at all. Specially since the gossip that he fancied one of your best friends had spreaded like wildfire through the school about a year ago. Sighing heavily, you close your book and set it aside as you leant against the thick trunk of a three, staring at the sunny sky above you.

“Y/N L/N, just the person I’ve been looking for!” An overly-confident male voice shouted from behind you. You didn’t have to look to know who it was, feeling his arrogant smirk radiating through the air.

“What now, Potter? Lily isn’t here, in case you haven’t noticed,” you tease your friend, a grin on your face trying to mask the twinge of sad that hit your heart as you said that.

“I may wear glasses but it doesn’t mean I’m blind, you know?!” He shrugs, a grimace stamped on his face as he sat in front of you. “Would you help a friend out, love?” He adds with a wink.

“Well, I’ll regret saying yes to you, won’t I?” You frown with conformity. It’s not like you could say no to him anyway.

“Excuse me? Since when saying yes to me gets you in any sort of trouble, darling?” He smirks sneakily at you, his hand in his chest in mock offense.

“Aren’t you a complete arse, James Potter?!” You roll your eyes at him, but can’t stop a grin from taking over your lips.

“Oh, please, you know you love me,” he winks at you, causing you to get all flustered. That was the problem with James: he was a flirt by nature. That’s just who he was, he couldn’t help it. It was simply a trait of his personality. He would flirt aimlessly without even noticing he was doing so. He couldn’t be blamed. Still, it didn’t help to ease the effect it — and he — had on you.

“Just say what you bloody want already,” you sigh.

“So, there’s this girl I’ve been trying to impress for quite some time now but, bugger me, she doesn’t seem to give a single shite about me at all,” he starts, staring intensely into your eyes.

“Have it occurred to you that maybe, just maybe, she’s not that into your arrogant self?” You tease, cutting him off.

“Merlin’s beard, would you let me finish before judging, woman?” He rolled his eyes at you. “As I was saying, I need to win her over before a git gets in the way of our love story.”

“Love story? Seriously?” You laughed even though you didn’t feel an ounce of amusement in your body. “James, look, i don’t mean to discourage you or anything, but are you sure it’s not the time to give up?” You shoot him a sympathetic glance. Lily really didn’t seem to care about him at all, just like he said. Of course you couldn’t know it for sure, since you were so bloody afraid to ask her if she liked him back, but you knew your best friend. She would’ve sent him signs by now if she too was interested. At least that’s what you hoped, since the last thing you wanted was to be head over heels for the same guy your best friend was smitten with.

“I’m not known to give up that easily, love. Besides, I can’t seem to back away from this, and believe me, I’ve tried,” he stated, his eyes distant as he was lost inside his own head.

You feel a sudden anger at him. Despite your deep infatuation for James and the friendship the two of you shared, Lily was your best friend and you didn’t like the sound of what he just said. “Oh, so that’s what it’s all about to you? A challenge? Some kind of game?”

“No! Y/N, no...” he quickly exclaims, snapping back to reality. “She’s much more than that. She’s... she makes me feel things, you know?! Things I’ve never even known that were possible to feel. She annoys me, teases me, makes me go mad of desire and despair every time she smiles at me and... Merlin, that smile! I swear to you that it’s the prettiest thing I’ve ever seen in my life. Every time she walks in it’s just like... I’m staring at the sun, she makes everything so much brighter. She makes life so much brighter. She drives me nuts. Damn, I’m in love!” He blurts out, his face filled with devotion, admiration and a burning passion.

Every word that got out of his mouth was like a stab right into your heart. Hearing he say those things hurt more than you ever thought it would. This was the first time he had ever admitted his feelings towards Lily to you, even though you were his best friend. You stared at the grass whilst taking a deep breath, cautiously making sure you’d be able to hide the hurt in your voice and eyes before you could look at him or speak again.

“Well, sounds like you’re serious about her,” you smiled softly at him. It didn’t reach your eyes but you made sure he wouldn’t notice that. “Orange petals lilies,” you add after a while. “In some muggle cultures lilies are tied to 100 years of love. They are also tied to good luck. Plus they mean infatuation, attraction and admiration. Pretty much what you just said you feel. I think it’s very suitable,” you managed to squeeze his arm reassuringly, showing him he had your support. Afraid that you would be unable to keep repressing the sadness that threatened to take you over, you get up and start walking, leaving a thoughtful James behind.

“Thank you, L/N!” He shouts.

“Anytime, Potter,” you answer without turning back to face him, quickening your pace as the tears began to flood your eyes.

***

After your conversation with James, it looked like he and Lily were everywhere you went. Whispering secretively, giggling together in the corners of the castle. Painfully reminding you that you weren’t the one for him. Like now. You couldn’t stop but staring at them, not sure whether to feel happy or bitter.

“Seeing anything interesting?” Sirius snook up on you, whispering into your year, causing you to jump in fright.

“Merlin! You scared me, you daft dimbo!” You slap him in the head with the book you had in your hands.

“Ouch! I’m not the one you’re mad at, should i remind you!” He exclaimed vigorously, protecting his head with his arm.

“I’m not mad at anyone!” You shoot angrily, hitting him again with your book.

“Would you stop hitting me, for Merlin’s sake?”

“What’s going on here?” Lily asks. When you turn around to face her, you’re met by hers and James’ inquisitively stares.

“Just a little PDA, right Black?!” You smirk ironically at him, leaving before anyone else could say anything.

“What just happened?” Remus asked intrigued whilst approaching the little group of friends, joining Sirius, Lily and James in watching you disappear into the castle.

“That, my friend, is what jealousy can do to a person,” Sirius shrugged, a grimace on.

“What do you mean by that?” James asks, frowning in confusion.

“I mean that she was staring at you and Lily, mate,” Sirius winked at his best friend.

“But why would she be jealous at all?” He shrugged, even more confused.

“Boys can be so stupid sometimes,” Lily rolls her eyes at him, clearly amused at his obliviousness.

As James continued to look confuse, Remus intervened: “The rumors. About you and Lily.”

“Oh!” He opened his mouth in realization, soon looking confused again. “But these rumors just started because Lily and I were spending more time together as she was advising me to act on my feelings and confess them to Y/N!” He shrugged.

“But she doesn’t know that, does she now genius?” Lily smacked the back of his head with her hand.

“WAIT!” James shouts suddenly, gaining a frown from the little crowd. “Does- does it mean she... likes me?” He asks, his eyes twinkling with hope.

“Prongs... what have we been telling you for the past year, you idiot?” Remus shook his head in disbelief at his friend.

“Well, I assumed you were all just saying that so I could grow the courage and ask her out,” he shrugged.

“You’re more stupid than people give you credit for, do you know that?” Lily crossed her arms in front of her chest, rolling her eyes and smiling.

James stood there for a few seconds before speeding off towards the near mirror that held a secret passage to Hogsmeade behind it.

“Where exactly are you going?” Remus shouted at his friend.

“To secure myself a 100 years of love!” He shouted back, a wide grin shining on his face.

“Has he gone mental?” Sirius asked Remus and Lily, a brow furrowed.

“Hasn’t he always been?” Lily retorts, causing all three of them to explode in a laughter.

***

“Oi! L/N!” James shouted from behind you and you slowed your pace so he could catch up with you.

“Don’t you have someone else to torture?” You ask him, playfully rolling your eyes, once he was walking beside you.

“Probably, but I choose you,” he winks and stops in front of you, both of his hands rested on your shoulders.

“Lucky me!” You raise your brows ironically.

“Always so sweet, huh love?” He laughs and you can feel your knees trembling. “Anyway, just wanted to let you know that today is the day!” He winks at you suggestively before turning around and leaving you.

You stare at him in confusion and shrug before continue to walk to your destination. He could be quite weird sometimes.

***

As you approached the door of the dorm you shared with Lily, Marlene and Alice, your eyes spot a beautiful vase full of orange lilies inside. “Just wanted to let you know that today is the day!” James’ words crept back to your mind as you stared at the beautiful flowers. This was it. The day he would finally confess his feelings to Lily and ask her out. With your eyes filled with tears, you duck a little and pick up the vase, getting inside the dorm. You let out a sigh of relief as you realized it was empty, putting the flowers carefully on top of Lily’s nightstand and locking yourself into the bathroom, finally allowing the tears to fall violently down your face.

Casting a silencing spell so no one could hear you, you stare at your broken self in the mirror. “This is the last time you’ll ever cry for him. The last time you’ll allow yourself to feel anything other than friendship for him. He’s smitten with Lily and they deserve to be happy together,” you say to your reflection before prepping yourself to get into the bath to take a relaxing and long shower.

After changing into your pajamas and making sure you looked presentable and your eyes weren’t swollen of puffed, you remove the silencing spell and unlock yourself out of the bathroom. Lily was sitting in your bed waiting for you, the flowers and a card in hand. You pressed your lower lip between your teeth to suppress the wave of sadness forming inside of you once again. Of course she’d want to tell you that James had finally asked her out and talk about it, you were her best friend after all.

“Nice flowers,” you say whilst sitting by her side and pulling your pillow into your lap.

“I do think they’re nice myself, I just don’t understand why would you put your nice flowers on my nightstand,” she frowns with a smirk.

“I’m sorry? My flowers?” You ask her, confused.

“Well, aren’t you Y/N L/N?” She offers you the card.

“Yes, but... these are not for me! James sent them to you!” You raise your hands in denial, not even bothering to pick up the card nor look at it.

“Merlin help me! If you bothered yourself to look at the bloody card you’d see it doesn’t say Lily Evans on the envelope,” she rolls her eyes, swinging the card in front of your face.

Reluctantly, you grab the card from her hand and look at its envelope. It had your name in the back of it, written in James’ calligraphy. Your heart started pounding furiously inside your chest as you opened it in shock. Inside of it, there was a little note from him. You start reading it out loud so Lily could hear it, noticing the curious glare she was sending you.

“Hello, my little private sun!

If I, by any chance, make your life as brighter as you make mine, please meet me on the top of the Astronomy Tower at twelve o’clock sharp. I really hope you can make it, love. There’s something I need to properly tell you.

Yours and yours only, Prongs.”

You stood there staring at the parchment, your mouth wide open. Did it mean he liked you? What about Lily? What about the gossiping?

“Well...” Lily swing her head inquisitively. As you continued to stand still, staring at the note with a dumbfounded look, she adds impatiently, “just go, woman!”

Glancing at the watch on your nightstand, you jump out of bed. 11:50 pm.

“Damn you, Potter!” You exclaim before speeding off the dorm, hearing Lily’s screams of excitement behind you.

You ran through the castle’s hallways as fast as you could, as if your life depended on it. The paintings and portraits on the walls shouted words of annoyance as you passed by them in a blur with your wand lit up, but you couldn’t care less. You couldn’t care about being caught. You couldn’t care about Filch or McGonagall, let alone the detention you’d be rewarded with by her if any of them surprised you out of bed at this late hour of night. All you cared about was getting to James. He was always all you cared about.

***

James glanced at his wrist and let out a sigh, it was 00:05 am and you still haven’t showed up. Sitting on the floor, he stares at the stunningly starred night sky. He felt a tightening in his stomach. What if all of your friends were wrong and you only saw him as a friend? Before he could torture himself any longer with his despairing thoughts, he hears the door crackling open and gets up, turning around to face a breathless Y/N.

“You came!” He exclaims softly, gazing at you with relief.

“Where else would I be you idiot?” You frown happily at him, closing the door behind you and taking a look at your surroundings.

The walls had been enchanted by James to look like the night sky outside, a similar spell seen in the ceiling of the Great Hall. Stars were twinkling brightly all around you and the floor was covered in orange lilies.

“Wow, Potter, you really outdone yourself here, didn’t you?” You looked amazed at him.

“I might have had a little help from Flitwick and Minnie, you know, us being their favorite students and all...” James joked teasingly as he started to walk slowly towards you.

“I guess being the teachers favorites really has its perks,” you frown playfully, slowly walking in his direction as well. “I believe you have something you need to properly tell me?”

“Oh, yes! About that, I wanted to thank you for your help with the girl I’m madly in love with. It worked out smoothly!” He winked, causing you to laugh.

“‘m always happy to help you! Hope she‘s worth the trouble.”

“Oh, don’t worry about that, she totally is! In fact, she’s so worthy that there’s nothing I wouldn’t do to win her over.”

“And why all of this determination in winning her heart? If I’m allowed to ask,” your narrow your eyes, that held a burning fire inside of it.

“Because she’s all I can think about and all I care about. She’s in my head when I wake up and still is in my head when I go to sleep. She’s bloody stubborn and challenging and annoying and... Merlin, I love her,” he says playfully and tenderly as you finally are in front of each other, faces merely inches apart. He rested his hands on your waist, tightening his grip as he did so.

“That’s good to know,” you whisper, staring at his eyes, breathing unsteadily whilst landing your hands on his chest.

“And why is that?” He asks, his eyes swinging from your eyes to your lips.

“Because she can’t stop thinking about this arrogant, overly-confident stupid boy either. And she also loves him, so much it consumes her,” you answer, staring at his lips hungrily.

“Are you being serious right now? I mean, are- are you sure? I don’t wanna pressure you or-,” he starts, looking into your eyes nervously with a longing frown. Not even resembling the self-assured Quidditch team captain and most popular guy in Hogwarts.

You chuckle lightly at his adorable worried face and bite your lower lip whilst smiling sweetly at him.

“Of course I’m sure, you blind daft! Just kiss me already, for Merlin’s sake!” You exclaim, pulling him by his shirt collar into a passionate kiss.

#james potter #james potter x reader #james potter x you #harry potter #harry potter x reader #the marauders #sirius black #sirius black x reader #remus lupin #remus lupin x reader #lily evans #lily evans x reader #oneshot

[emiliaheartfeel]

Supergirl

Chapter 7: Bro Code

AN: Atsumu did a shitty thing, that I do not condone. Hope your ready to feel smad!

It’s been two weeks since you started ignoring and avoiding Atsumu. You didn’t even reply to his message and he has been too stubborn to apologize. It’s starting to get on Osamu’s nerves because avoiding Atsumu included avoiding Osamu. He hasn’t seen or heard from you and Atsumu has been a bitch the whole time too. The coach had to bench cause he was being down right cruel to his own teammates. Osamu can’t talk to you and he hasn’t wanted to ask Atsumu, but this had gotten ridiculous and the team agrees. Kita calls a team meeting after practice one day. Atsumu is extremely bitter and becomes even more annoyed when all heads turn to him.

“What happened with you Atsumu?”

“I don’t know what your fucking talking about!”

“You have been rather irritable as of late”

“What he means is you have been a bitch.”

“In a sense, yes”

“I am always like this”

“Like hell you are man”

“Why don’t you all just leave me hell alone!”

Osamu can’t take it anymore and lunges at he’s brother in pure fury. This already was more intense then their usual petty fights. Fights about you always were. Osamu has Atsumu pinned under him hands in his collar holding him down. Both Aran and Kita are ready to get involved but Osamu sends them a nasty glare.

“What. The. Fuck. Did you do?”

“I already told you I don’t know what you are talking about”

“Bull fucking shit. Y/N is so mad at YOU she isn’t even talking to me”

“She chose you,”

“What”

“Three months ago she chose you,”

Osamu is lost now. What was Atsumu on about. Confusion is all he feels as he watches Atsumu looks broken. Years ago Atsumu was the first twin to tell the other he loved you Osamu revealed he did too a few months later.

“Last time she was in town she came to me to talk about you,”

“I don’t understand she barely even said goodbye when she left.”

“Because I had slept with her,”

Osamu’s mind goes blank for a moment before he pulls his fist back in punches Atsumu in the nose hard enough he feels a crunch. Aran grabs his arm as he pulled again to hit his twin again. He looks feral and Atsumu looks torn and ashamed. He’s not even fighting back not making eye contact with anyone.

“You! What!!”

Atsumu doesn’t answer finding his hands much more interesting. The team is stunned into silence this wasn’t the petty bullshit they were expecting. This was deep and personal.

“Answer! Me!”

“She loved you... Loves you”

“...”

“She came to me nervous a few nights before she was leaving to ask me a question”

You were in the Miya house in your pjs when you are pacing in the hall. Your right foot goes to rub up and down you left calf a sign of pure nerves for you. Atsumu raises an eyebrow at you with an annoying teasing smirk.

“What’s up, Supergirl,”

“Umm..I...”

“What? Finally confessing your undying love to the lesser twin,”

He knew. Knew you had a crush on Osamu. You had told him a year ago, but you hadn’t acted on believing it would make your relationship with both the twins weird which Atsumu fully agreed with.

“Haha, no it’s something else...”

“Come on, you can always tell the great and generous Atsumu what’s troubling you”

“I don’t think I want to”

“Oh! She doesn’t want my advise! I am not good enough to give you my advise! Oh the betrayal. That promise when you were 8 and sobbing on front porch and I told you I always got you. That means nothing to you appare...”

“You dramatic bitch.”

*overdramatic sigh*

“Oh my god! Fine...I....to...Osamu...”

“What was that?”

“I want to give Osamu my virginity!”

“Oh”

Something in him really broke. Knowing you loved Osamu was and not acting on it was one thing, but this would definitely lead to you and his brother dating. He couldn’t handle if you two actively together. He couldn’t watch you be with another man.

“What’s that look for”

“I just think that’s a bad idea”

“Why?”

“Tell me have you really thought this through”

“Yes I want my first time to be with someone a love and trust,”

“Then let me do it!”

“What?”

He knew he was running purely on emotions and needs a cover and fast. He’s panicking this isn’t how he imagined confessing to you. He had even thought about ever confessing to you.

“We love each other and you trust me”

“You know that’s different!”

“Not really it’s going be completely yours decision everything. Think about how weird it’ll if he says no or worse he says yes and doesn’t have feelings for you. Having sex with someone you love, but doesn’t love you is a new kind of torture that I don’t want you to go through!”

“How do you know he doesn’t love me!”

“I just do!”

“How!”

“He told me!”

“I don’t believe you!”

“Atsumu I just love Y/N she’s like the perfect little sister!”

He know it was fucked up. He knew he was breaking her heart and lying to do it.

“Obviously I am not saying you need to have sex with me, but I am your safest bet,”

“I need to go home,”

“Let me walk you then”

“I don’t think that’s necessary”

“No it’s not but I need you to understand I am not trying to actively sleep with you. I just don’t want you to get hurt.”

BULLSHIT! He was a liar and a horrible friend.

“Atsumu I just found out the guy I have been in love of with for years doesn’t love me and his brother, who looks exactly like him, offers sex. I am going to be fucking hurt! I need time to think and get over Osamu. And rethink shit about my virginity,”

He knew this wasn’t gonna be good for you. You already looked destroyed and all he wanted to do was hold you, but he knew that might just confuse you. Though the really dark voice in him wanted you confused, cause maybe then you would finally pick him. He couldn’t go that far. Everything had to be your choice.

‘But is it really her choice. You lied so she wanted go to Osamu, to make you seem more attractive more desirable. You are soliciting sex from the girl you claim to live because you are jealous and maybe this is the closest you’ll ever get to her loving you. You thought if you can’t have love, lust is just as good.’ He thought to himself. Guilt riddled him before you were even out the door.

“Y/N forget I said anything. You should love and trust the man you give your first to.”

You walk out and don’t back in until a few days later. Osamu isn’t home again. You knew that and Atsumu knew you knew it. He’s hesitant to even approach you, but it is clear he is who you came to see.

“I need to know this won’t change anything between us,”

“What won’t?”

“That if I give you my virginity. Your still my friend Atsumu. I can’t live my life with out you. You were right I didn’t think it through. Even if Osamu did love me it doesn’t mean we wouldn’t eventually fall out of love and then he would just be out of my life right. I need you by my side even if he isn’t.”

It almost sounded like a love confession to Atsumu, but he knows better. You are so desperate to keep Osamu in your life you have torn yourself a part to hide that you loved him. You just assumed Atsumu was always going to be there, you just need him to say it. It not like Osamu where you won’t even risk it. Atsumu, he knew you could live without him you just don’t want to.

“No matter we are gonna be weird with each other we both have to have faith in each other, but Y/N I was talking out my ass. It annoyed me that you were gonna have sex with Osamu over me. Yeah it doesn’t make sense but you know how competitive we are. You don’t got to do this. We pretend this never happen and have a sundae night.”

“I am sure Atsumu.”

That’s what he told his teammates and that’s how it went down. Osamu is livid. Aran is holding him tightly as Kita had put tape over his mouth so Atsumu could tell his story without interruptions. Everyone taking it all in.

“Wait then why is she mad now?”

Atsumu pulls out his phone and shows them the texts he sent.

“You are an idiot”

As soon as Osamu signals he is calm enough Aran slowly and with hesitation let’s him go. As he turns to his twin face hardened and swallows tightly.

“She can never know you lied”

“...what”

“It would ruin her, Atsumu. You are her confidant and you took advantage of her. She can’t know. We pretend it never happened, we follow our bro code and neither of us go for her ever. We be the best big brothers we can. Nothing changes between us.”

“...I”

“Shut up! You did a terrible thing and should be treating her like a goddess until one of you dies. You barely deserve to be in the same room as her. You are lucky I don’t break your hands.”

“I know”

Masterlist

AN: I don’t think I capture the amount of heartbreak Atsumu actually was suppose to be in but boy is suppose to seem fucking broken. Doesn’t excuse his action but he insecure scared baby that just wants love.

AN: Sorry this chapter took a little longer. If I don’t have you in my tag list just message me! I am so so nervous about how you all are going to react to this chapter and the next ones. Also there are more then 10 chapters this is just volume 1 🙃.

Please Comment!

@kaleidoscopekai @je-suis-argent-miel @liferuinedby5idiotsand1genius @poppi144 @idontevenknow129 @ssuna @im-the-music-whore @kac-chowsballs

#atsumu smau #atsumu x reader #haikyuu atsumu #haikyuu osamu #haikyuu smau #miya atsumu #miya osamu #osamu smau #osamu x reader #aran ojiro #suna smau #suna rinatro #haikyuu suna #suna x reader

[samstree]

You are too well tangled in my soul (4/5)

In which Geralt tries to apologize, Jaskier has some unexpected encounters and Roach is the best.

(love confession, kaer morhen, 6.1k, no warnings)

read on AO3.

War breaks out.

Nilfgaard mercilessly scorches the continent, and Jaskier survives. The next time he sees Geralt, there’s a lost princess in tow.

The girl has pale blonde hair, just as Jaskier remembers from when he performed at her birthdays. Her green eyes are big and wary, staring at the bard from behind Geralt’s armored bulk.

Jaskier wouldn’t blame her, from what he learned from his encounters with Nilfgaard the girl must have been through hell. And from what he heard about Cintra, well, she has more demons to run from other than the evil army. She looks exhausted too, hair dirty and eyes alert, studying Jaskier intensely.

“You were at my birthday. You sang the songs.” The princess’s crisp voice breaks the silence.

“Yes, Princess Cirilla. I was at three of your birthdays, though you were too young to remember the first two.” he bows. “Jaskier the bard, at your service.”

She softens, nodding at Jaskier’s gesture. Her lips tug upward.

“Just Ciri.”

“Ciri, then.” Jaskier smiles at her.

“I loved your singing. It was beautiful.” she bites her lips, pausing, before putting her arm around the witcher’s. “Geralt only said we were looking for a friend. I didn’t know it was you.”

The mention of the name snaps Jaskier’s attention back to the witcher, who remains motionless and silent. This entire time, Geralt has been staring at Jaskier’s face, like he could blink and the bard would disappear. Jaskier stares back, and the bruise in his chest throbs anew.

“A friend, uh?” he feigns nonchalance and fails, suddenly his throat feeling dry. “Now you use the word, after all these years. Thought you’d keep insisting on not being my friend until the end of time. Thought I gave you life’s blessing –”

“Jaskier,” Geralt exhales. The word is barely a whisper, but it’s enough to stop the bard from landing a blow. The witcher doesn’t seem to have more words, despite continuing to look at Jaskier with remorseful sorrow.

Good. The pettiest part of Jaskier thrills at his regret, after all he’s the one who spewed all the venom on top of that mountain.

But one look at Geralt, Jaskier realized that he is just as tired and disheveled as the girl, if not more so. Being on the run from Nilfgaard is no fun, he learned that from personal experience.

Knowing Geralt, he is going to neglect his needs in favor of Ciri’s, gritting his teeth through everything. Jaskier finds himself searching all over him for injuries, familiar worry bubbling of its own volition.

Jaskier cannot even stay mad at him for long. Damn him.

“Why are you looking for me then?” he asks.

“I –” Geralt pauses. “Nilfgaard is looking for us. Hunting us. They want something, and they are willing to raise armies to chase us across the Continent.”

He tightens his hold on Ciri. The young princess looks away with a haunted expression.

“And they are also trying to hunt down whoever might know your location. They’ll torture them for the information.” Jaskier adds. His two near escapes are too vivid in his mind. The first time he only got away by the skin of his teeth. It turns out he’s not so bad with a dagger when faced with two Nilfgaardian footsoldiers.

As for the second time, he may have had help from an old friend. Not that Yennefer would be thrilled if he ever called her that. The story of his life, he thinks, it seems to be.

Realization dawns in Geralt’s eyes. “You already know they are looking for you. Are you – did they get to you, Jaskier?”

“Get to me? No,” Jaskier chuckles tightly. “I wouldn’t be standing here, would I? Your secrets are safe, Geralt. Not that I knew your whereabouts for the past year. They didn’t get anything from me, if that’s your worry.”

“No. Fuck –” Geralt curses under his breath, frustrated. “That’s not what I meant.”

“Then what did you mean?”

Jaskier challenges him, raising an eyebrow. Geralt struggles for words and starts to look like his usual brooding self again. It is Ciri who speaks up.

“Come to Kaer Morhen with us. It’s the safest place on the Continent,” the girl says.

Jaskier breathes, stunned. Of course, it makes sense for them to go. It is a home for Geralt. He remembers the first time Geralt told him about the witcher keep, in that greenhouse, a lifetime ago. To him, it is as much of a myth now as it was back then.

“You are sweet, Ciri. But I don’t think Geralt would want that.”

There’s a bitter tang in those words. Ciri scrunches up her brows, confused. “But he’s the one who wanted –”

“What Ciri meant,” Geralt interrupts, “was that Nilfgaard is still out there looking for us. When they can’t, they’ll come for you again.” Desperation bleeds into his tone. Or is it annoyance? “Come with us, Jask. You’ll be safe in Kaer Morhen.”

“I can take care of myself.” Jaskier’s resolution is swaying despite his pride.

“Jaskier…”

“Geralt.” He stays emotionless, waiting for the Witcher’s reasoning, but it doesn’t come.

It is the lost Cintran princess who decides for Jaskier.

“Can you just come with us?” her voice is uncertain, and it tugs at Jaskier’s heart. “Please?”

Jaskier looks into her green eyes and only sees the loss she endured. The fall of Cintra reached Jaskier like a punch in the gut. He thought Geralt’s Child Surprise – the bright-eyed little girl who danced to his songs – was lost with it, so when those soldiers started questioning him about her escape, Jaskier only felt relief. Now, the lone wolf stands protectively next to the lost lion cub.

Jaskier is glad Geralt went to find her, truly.

He finds himself nodding, and Ciri brightens up ever so slightly.

  “So, you are the boy?”

The dark-haired witcher says upon meeting Jaskier for the first time at the gate of Kaer Morhen when Geralt and Ciri have gone to stable the horse. He’s the same height and build as Geralt, only his shoulders are just a bit wider. Unlike Geralt, his hair is a muddy brown, and three nasty scars run down the right side of his cheek, making him look almost grotesque.

“Pardon?”

“The boy Geralt kept seeing.” His eyes fix on Jaskier with amusement, the golden color eerily identical to Geralt’s.

“Oh, I didn’t know anyone else –” Jaskier is rather surprised that another witcher knows about Geralt’s condition. “Yes, that’s me. But I’m hardly a boy anymore.” He extends a hand. “Jaskier.”

“Eskel.” The Witcher takes it with a friendly smile. Huh, not all of them are broody and rude.

“So you know about our…” Jaskier trails off for lack of a descriptor. Their bond? Their relationship? They certainly are not in one.

“Not much. If you’ve known my brother for this long, you’d know how little he talks.” Eskel offers an understanding pat on Jaskier’s back. “He just came back here one year and couldn’t shut up about an annoying bard. Then he came back another year. Disappeared in the middle of the day, and scared the shit out of us. We’d thought he was cursed out of existence by some angry mage. When he came back, out of thin air too, he looked like he’d seen a ghost.”

“Not a ghost.”

“Not a ghost, only the same bard. As a boy.”

It makes sense, according to however little they know about the mechanism of it. Wintering at the witcher keep is the longest Geralt is away from the bard, so destiny has to drag him to Lettenhove. It would be hard to sail away from your anchor.

“Guess I’m too much of a nuisance. He can’t escape me even here, in his own home.”

“He never –” Eskel seems surprised at Jaskier’s remark. “I might need to have words with my brother, bard. And he was only upset because he worried for your safety.”

He smiles tightly. “It’s kind of you to say, Eskel. Though you don’t need to protect my feelings. I understand now. I would take myself off of his hands if I could.”

Too bad he can’t. Even if the invasion blows over, destiny would still work against Geralt’s attempt at free will at every opportunity.

He ignores Eskel’s inquisitive eyes as they stroll into the stone castle when Geralt and Ciri rejoin them.

  Geralt is trying to apologize.

He knows by the way Geralt follows him outside, and onto the trail behind the keep, somehow with guilt written all over his posture. It’s a nice place for a walk and for Jaskier to clear his head and compose under the pine trees.

Geralt has tried several times in the past few days. Every time they are left alone, the witcher assumes an expectant look on his face and begins to find words. Every time Jaskier interrupts him before it starts, making up whatever poor excuses he can find. Every time Geralt swallows and lets him go. He puts on a stoic face but Jaskier always sees the disappointed droop in those amber eyes that anyone else would have missed.

Jaskier can’t avoid it anymore, between the fresh smell of pine – his favorite scent in the world – and the sky, there’s nowhere to hide, so he stops to face it.

“Just say whatever you want to say,” he lets out a sigh.

“I’m sorry,” Geralt blurts out without a beat. “I never should have said what I said. I didn’t mean any of it, Jask. I was upset and I took it out on you. It wasn’t fair.”

Jaskier blinks.

“No, it wasn’t.”

“You’ve followed me for twenty years. You’ve known me for even longer. Fuck, Jaskier. Your whole life, you’ve known me, and yet you chose to stay.”

“I did,” he whispers, “but you tried to push me away, like everything else destiny forced upon you.”

The hurt in those golden eyes is unbearable to watch, so Jaskier averts the burn of his gaze to take a deep breath. The smell of pine fills his lungs, crisp and soothing.

“It was a mistake. I know that now, Jaskier.” The contrite is unmistakable. Geralt’s gravelly voice is as pained as Jaskier feels. From the corner of his eyes, Jaskier notices Geralt reach into his pocket for something. It is a small notebook, leather-bound and abused at the edges.

It’s his notebook.

It’s their notebook.

“I’ve kept records of everything, just like you did.” he holds out the book for Jaskier to take. “I’ve seen the future, you –”

“No!” Jaskier steps away as if the book might burn him. “You can’t use it against me, Geralt. You think I’ve never seen the future? I know where we are going. I know I’ll still choose you, because how can I not?” his voice breaks at the possibility of him leaving Geralt by choice. “But it doesn’t make it alright. I can’t just forgive you and pretend we are fine, just because the future says we should be.”

Geralt lowers his hand and the book with it. “I meant that…I understand you now. Why you would stand by me when no one else does, when it’s so much easier to just leave.”

“And how exactly did you arrive at this grand revelation?”

Geralt softens, his lips quick upward ever so slightly. “I saw you. In a little cottage by the sea, years from now, happy.”

Jaskier’s breath hitches. He’s so used to knowing all different versions of Geralt, so used to having the upper hand in this little dance, that the idea of his own future laid out like this makes him queasy.

“You told me – or will tell me, rather – why you spent your entire life choosing me when I’ve done nothing but push you away.” Geralt’s voice breaks at the obvious regret in it.

Because I love you, Jaskier thinks. I’ve loved you for too long.

He’s become so familiar with the notion it’s as easy as breathing.

“What do you want, then?”

“A chance. To prove myself again,” Geralt pleads. “To prove myself a worthy companion to you. Because you are my friend, my best friend. You have been since you were so young and I was just blind to it. Jaskier, I –”

I love you.

“– I choose you too. If you’ll let me show you. For the rest of my life, I’ll prove it to you every day, because I –”

I love you.

“– I love you.”

The words come out soft and reverent, the whisper so careful as if to avoid the birds overhearing him. Geralt stills after the confession, his eyes fixed on Jaskier in earnest.

For a moment Jaskier believes the declaration an echo of his imagination, conjured up from years of longing and heartbreak. But when he holds his breath and looks into Geralt’s resolved eyes, the truth washes over him like a cool shower on an autumn morning.

Deep in those ember eyes is the same affection he’s seen many times, during those too-short visits from his older Geralt, in the teasing smirks he carried at the corner of his mouth, or in the sweetness hidden behind his kiss, under a cold Cintran sky and addled by too much ale. It’s in the way Geralt takes him apart with deft fingers and gentle touches, over and over again throughout the years.

It’s the same love that propelled Geralt to ask for his trust and his faith when this moment comes.

“You love me.” Jaskier muses.

“I do. I have… for a while now.” Geralt’s breath forms in the crisp mountain air. “I understand if you don’t feel the same way, Jask. But please believe me when I say it. I love you. It’s the truest feeling I’ve ever felt in my life. Without any djinn magic, or destiny deciding what’s best. Please, at least have this much faith in me.”

After all this time Geralt still thinks it’s possible for Jaskier to not love him back.

I’m going to make mistakes, the older Geralt once said, don’t lose faith in me.

He made a promise after all.

“Okay,” Jaskeir exhales.

“Okay?”

When he looks into the amber glow again Geralt looks expectant.

“Okay,” Jaskier repeats, “You have it. A chance for us to try again, if you want it to go back to… before.”

Geralt exhales like a weight has been lifted from his shoulders. “It won’t be like before. I’ll do better, I give you my word.”

The sincerity is palpable in Geralt’s expression. The words come out so solemn and he’s clenched his jaw tightly. It looks like he just might break something if Jaskier doesn’t give him an out.

A smiles tugs at the corner of Jaskier’s mouth. And they say he’s the dramatic one.

“Oh, relax, you big oaf, before you hurt yourself. Of course I believe in you. It might be the most words I’ve ever heard from you. Didn’t think it was possible.”

He pats Geralt on the arm, before resting his hand there and squeezes. If Geralt leans into the touch, he doesn’t mention it.

“You,” Jaskeir continues, “You are forgiven, Geralt. I’ve always known I’d forgive you. You are not the only one who’s seen the future. Even if fate didn’t tell me to, I would still know you to be the best man I’ve ever laid eyes on, and I would choose to stay by your side every time.”

The shuddering breath that chokes out Geralt’s throat is almost like a sob. Rumors say witchers can’t cry, but Jaskier learned it not to be true long ago, and he can see how much Geralt is affected right now.

He reaches out to tuck a loose strand of hair behind Geralt’s ear before resting his hand on the spill of silver on his shoulder, and revels in the familiar feeling of silky hair against his palm.

“As for the other thing.” Jaskier thinks back on Geralt’s heartfelt confession, not sure if he has truly wrapped his head around it. “I think… I’ll need some time before we can do something about it.”

Geralt nods, his warm hand coming up to capture Jaskier’s wrist in a loose grip, the pad of his thumb stroking slightly again. Jaskier’s chest warms at the motion.

“Take all the time you need, Jask. I’ll be right here.”

  They spend the winter in the keep, in this safe bubble they created.

Ciri’s progress is obvious even to Jaskier’s untrained eyes. Her stance becomes more confident every day, her moves faster. The clanking of blunt swords echoes above the training ground as Jaskier watches from a bench in the corner, plucking his lute absent-mindedly.

The lion cub is starting to look like her grandmother, with her hair tied back and the sword cutting through the air with force.

The rise in confidence is doing her wonders. Her smile is becoming more often as winter settles in. The first time Ciri laughed out loud at the usual tomfoolery Lambert starts at dinner table, all four witchers and Jaskier stopped to stare at her for a brief moment before joining in.

Later that night, Geralt got emotional when it was just him and Jaskier, cleaning up in the kitchen.

“It’s just… it’s the first time I’ve heard her laugh.” Geralt’s throat bobbles when he says, and Jaskier’s heart breaks for them both, so he takes the plates from the Witcher’s hands and pulls him in for a hug, one that’s a little too tight.

In the courtyard, flurries of snow fall steadily as Ciri disarms Geralt with a twist of her wrist, the heavier sword flying off to the side. She squeaks in excitement.

“Take that, old man!”

Geralt goes to collect his blunt weapon, his chuckle rumbling deep in his chest. “You only did it because I let you, Ciri. Your enemies are not gonna let you disarm them for practice.”

Her pride morphs into a slight pout before it’s tucked away by her regal stance. They’ll make a warrior princess out of her after all.

“You just can’t let me have this one, can you?”

“Yeah, old man,” Jaskier chimes in. “Just admit your loss. I’m sure the White Wolf should know when he’s beaten.”

From Geralt’s glare, Jaskier knows he’s enjoying this too much, but he just can’t get the proud grin off of his face. Ciri sends him a smug smile when she puts away her weapon and gears.

From a distance, Lambert and Eskel are sheathing their training swords as well when Jaskier notices the snow falling harder by the minute, sending a shiver through his body despite the heavy coat wrapped around him. Ugh, his fingers are numb now.

“All right?” Geralt is all packed up, cheeks flushed from the exercise. He’s only wearing a simple tunic and yet it looks like the cold does not affect him at all. Ridiculous witcher biology.

Mischief lights up in Jaskier’s mind when he puts down the lute and walks towards Geralt, before putting his freezing palms flush against the Witcher’s neck.

“Jaskier, what – Fuck!”

He expects Geralt’s usual grunts and retaliation at the blatant offense. Roughhousing has never been a stranger to them, especially now that they are at ease in their friendship again.

What he does not expect is the concern that appears in Geralt’s eyes after a moment of shock and the warm hands that gently cover his.

“Oh Jask, you are freezing.” Geralt’s brows furrow in seriousness, calloused fingers starting to rub the back of Jaskier’s hands in a slow rhythm. Now that he notices, the heat radiating off of Geralt’s skin is lovely, tingling the numbness in his rigid hands and sending a different kind of shiver down his spine. “Gods, you might get frostbite like this. Don’t you have gloves?”

“Er – that’s not…” Jaskier stammers, suddenly aware of their closeness and the lack of everyone else on the training ground. Thank fuck they’ve all gone inside before his foolish prank. “I – I lost them…?”

Now Jaskier is the one blushing, but Geralt pays no mind to his embarrassment and continues to rub heat back into his exposed skin.

“I’ll make you new ones then. Can’t let a lutist lose his fingers,” Geralt murmurs.

The urge to kiss this sweet man is overwhelming, Jaskier has to look away from the beautiful golden yellow to calm his fluttering heart. It’d be too soon. He’s still raw from what went down in the past year.

Thankfully Ciri calls for them to get inside before they freeze over. Jaskier pulls away to answer her, immediately feeling empty without the warm touch. Now he’ll settle for walking to the great hall where a hearth is lit with Geralt by his side.

A week later, Jaskier finds a pair of newly knitted gloves on his bed. They are made with Geralt’s favorite wool – a thick, soft material – and fingerless so he can play. When he slips them on, the urge to track Geralt down in the keep and kiss him all over fills him again.

  Roach bites down on the second apple Jaskier offers her and munches gracelessly.

Jaskier pats her mane while she tries to chew off the fringe on his doublet. Now that he’s reunited with her master, Jaskier can spoil the mare as much as he wants. Not that anyone objected before. The mare clearly has a soft spot for the bard, Geralt is just too stubborn to admit it.

He is just saying goodbye to Roach when the familiar swoosh of magic startles him.

Destiny’s pull rarely works when they are together, so much so that Jaskier has almost forgotten about it for the months he’s within Kaer Morhen’s walls. On top of that, what greets him is not the bulk of a witcher.

Standing by the stalls is a scared little boy.

Jaskier is terrible with guessing children’s age, but this boy is definitely no more than six or seven, wearing plain summer clothes and holding a small bucket for dear life. The boy has a head full of dark curly hair and tears streaking down his cheeks. His brown eyes are wide and full of terror.

“Ma? Where are you?” he calls out, voice horse from crying.

Jaskier is stuck where he stands, too shocked to react. Somewhere next to him, Roach snorts nervously at the volume of the child’s cry.

Geralt once told him how he ended up in Vesemir’s care, when both of them had too much to drink on the eve of Belleteyn many years ago. They only meant to celebrate a hunt well done and Jaskier’s successful performance at the festival, but the drinks kept coming on the courtesy of the pub owner. Before Jaskier knew it, the Witcher was too gone and started to get melancholic in his inebriation.

For once in their lives, Jaskier was the one with some sanity left and promptly put Geralt back to their shared bed.

With the sound of people singing and dancing around bonfires in the distance, Geralt curled into himself, looking uncharacteristically small, and told Jaskier the last time he saw his mother.

“I stood there for so long, by the road. But she was gone,” Geralt slurred the words. “I kept waiting for her…”

Those words, combined with too much ale, broke Jaskier into a million pieces.

“It was so long ago. I don’t even remember what she looks like, the color of her eyes. Or my eyes, before…What was the color of my eyes?”

Jaskier had no answer.

That night, he listened as Geralt drifted off, thinking the witcher would forget about the confession come morning. Or was it Geralt who thought Jaskier never remembered? No matter what reason, Geralt never talked about it again and Jaskier respected that.

And here Geralt is, no more than seven, on what is probably the worst day of his life – having just been abandoned by his mother by the side of the road. He looks confused and cried-out, still clinging to the bucket so hard that his tiny knuckles are turning white.

His eyes are brown.

That’s all Jaskier can think.

The boy’s tears keep falling, and whatever heartbreak Jaskier felt on the night of Belleteyn, it’s not a match for now.

“Hey, it’s all right,” Jaskier shushes as gently as possible. He lowers himself in front of the boy, keeping the movement slow just to not upset him further. “It’s okay. I’m not going to hurt you.”

“Where is my ma?” young Geralt sniffles, and Jaskier doesn’t know how to answer that. The layers he’s wearing clearly cannot hold out the cold in the dead of winter. The boy is shivering.

“I’m sorry I don’t know where she is. But, here, put this on.” Jaskier shrugs off his coat and wraps it around the boy’s small frame, half of it pooling on the ground. He tries to coax the bucket out of the boy’s hands but he grips tighter.

“Where is she? Where did you take me?” the boy demands in panic.

“I promise I haven’t taken you anywhere, okay? Ger –” Jaskier catches himself. He’s a complete stranger to the child. He shouldn’t know him. “It’s too cold out here. We can go inside and wait for her there. Is that all right?”

The boy shakes his head. “Ma’s coming back to find me. I need to stay.”

“Okay, okay.” Jaskier tries not to panic, but he feels so helpless. He doesn’t even know where to put his hands so he tightens the coat around the boy’s shoulders. “How about this, I’ll find some help for us. Maybe someone from that castle can help. I don’t even know what would happen if they see you like this but…what other option do we have, eh?”

Before he can even get up, Jaskier finds the boy dropping the bucket and clinging to the sleeve of his doublet, the water spilling everywhere.

“No, don’t leave,” the boy says weakly, “Please.”

The boy’s chubby cheeks are streaked with tears, turning red in the mountain air. Jaskier wipes the wetness away with the pad of his thumb, his other arm still in the boy’s grip.

“All right. I won’t leave then, I promise.” Jaskier does his best to smile reassuringly. The ache in his chest makes it difficult but against all odds, it works. The young boy calms down just a little.

“I’ll stay with you, all right? But for now… do you want to make some new friends?”

Jaskier introduces the child to Roach, and he gets less afraid as soon as he sees the horse and reaches out to pet her. With their ridiculous height difference, it looks almost comical. The mare, ever the sweetheart, lowers her head as if she senses something familiar in the boy. She nuzzles his little hand and his eyes light up.

No matter how young, it seems Geralt will always enjoy Roach’s company above anyone else’s. Jaskier watches in wonder at the exchange before him. The boy’s distress dissipates gradually as the mare licks him and showers him in affection.

“Can I keep her?” the child giggles as Roach chews on his hair.

Jaskier smiles, “Sadly no, but maybe you’ll see her again. Who knows.”

All his life, Jaskier has known Geralt as the powerful witcher, his friend and protector. But right here, he’s just another ordinary child who loves giant animals. Only his future holds something no child should ever have to endure.

Jaskier wishes life wouldn’t have to burden this gentle boy, harden him into the warrior that he is now. This moment could last forever for all he cares, so this young boy wouldn’t need to go back to face the path ahead.

He doesn’t know how long they have here, undisturbed by the four witchers inside the keep, or the magic pulling them apart.

“Can I tell you something?” Jaskier says as the child runs his fingers through Roach’s mane. He turns around to look at the bard curiously with his beautiful brown eyes. “Do you know you’re a very good boy? And when you grow up, you’ll become a very good person.”

“Ma says I should do good.”

“She’s right.”

“And doing good is hard… sometimes.”

Jaskier swallows the lump in his throat. “That too. Life is difficult, unfair even. But you are strong, stronger than you’ll ever believe. Remember this, and you’ll find a way.”

“I’m strong?” the boy looks at Jaskier expectantly. His tiny frame is drowned in Jaskier’s coat.

“The strongest.” the bard nods.

“Like a knight?”

“Better than a knight.”

The smile that lights up the boy’s rosy cheeks is the most wonderful thing Jaskier has ever seen, better than the northern lights on these mountains. But their moment seems to have come to an end.

The swoosh of magic Jaskier knows by heart brushes by his ear, and Roach suddenly brays anxiously in her stall.

“I feel weird.” The panic returns to the boy’s voice.

“It’s okay. It means we have to say goodbye.”

“Are you leaving?”

“Never.”

“But why do we have to say goodbye?” his tiny voice gets tight and scared once more. Jaskier shushes him gently.

“Because we’ll see each other again.”

“And horsie too?”

“Her too.” Jaskier nods solemnly.

The boy waves nervously at Jaskier, and then the mare. His big brown eyes bore into Jaskier’s with hope and trust, a trust that will be returned decades from now, for him at least.

“Goodbye.”

Once again, Jaskier is left alone. Snow falls silently in the courtyard like it has been for days.

  The rest of the day passes in a blur. Jaskier goes through dinner without a word, no matter how the four witchers try to engage with him.

Eskel is his usual self, nice and respectful, not prodding after noticing Jaskier in a weird mood. It’s something Lambert physically cannot do, because he constantly asks Jaskier what is wrong, trying to get a response out of him.

“You smell miserable, buttercup, like you are about to pass out.”

Jaskier imagines the tight smile he offers is not the most convincing, since everyone only gets more concerned. Ciri puts her hand on his arm as a silent question, and when she can’t get an answer she starts brooding just like Geralt.

Jaskier would laugh at their likeness if not for his mind racing so fast.

Geralt must have noticed the moment he came back from the stables. He has not let Jaskier out of his sight since, his worry silent but not pushing. After dinner, Jaskier can still feel the weighted gaze on his back, following him all the way back to the bedroom.

He leads Geralt into his room at the end of the hallway and shuts the door. With a soft click of the door, Jaskier turns to throw himself at the witcher with a force that would have knocked over any other man, but Geralt only catches his momentum, solid and steady. He buries his nose into Geralt’s shoulder and lets the familiar smell of pine and soap fill his senses.

“What’s wrong, Jaskier?” Geralt’s voice rumbles out of his chest, deep and patient. “You know, Lambert was right. You smell so…sad.”

“I made you a promise.” Jaskier’s voice is muffled by Geralt’s shoulder.

“What?”

“I made you a promise. Years ago for me, and years from now for you. To always have faith in you, even when you make mistakes.” Jaskier extracts his limbs and looks into the confusion in the flowing amber. He presses their lips together, sweet and lingering, like they have all the time in the world. The kiss tastes like the lost years between them, all the laughter and heartaches, the lust and yearning, and the dust and smoke from war. He pulls away.

The last time he kissed Geralt, it was by the side of a road, full of rage and hurt. This time, it’s hope that rises like a winter sun, cozy but not sweltering.

“This is me keeping that promise.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt swallows, composing himself, “You know I won’t hold it against you. It’s not fair for you to be pressured into this just for something I haven’t asked of you yet. I meant it when I said you can take all the time you need, because I did fuck up, and I’m so –”

“Don’t apologize again,” Jaskier interrupts, “I know how sorry you feel, how you’ll still feel even years from now. Just – don’t.”

He presses his forehead to Geralt’s and they breathe in tandem. Maybe he’s still affected by the memory of Geralt as a child, scared and alone, unaware of the hurt he’s about to receive. The trials, growing up away from home, training to become a weapon, the glares people cast at him. Jaskier shudders to think, desperately needing to shield his witcher from the world, but he was powerless in the stable this afternoon. He is not powerless now.

“How about a promise you did hear from me?” he asks.

Geralt frowns in confusion, waiting for him to explain, so Jaskier cups Geralt’s jaw to study him again, his thumb resting exactly where he wiped tears off of the boy hours ago.

“They were brown.”

The confusion in the amber eyes only grows.

“Your eyes, before the trials. They used to be brown.”

Geralt still looks at him incredulously. When it comes out like that, Jaskier probably sounds crazy.

“Your mother left you by the side of the road. She told you to get water, and when you got back she was gone,” he swallows, “You waited, holding a bucket of water. You waited until you went somewhere else. Somewhere cold, there’s a horse and snow and –”

“Oh.”

Realization dawns on Geralt like a lightning strike. He stares at Jaskier in disbelief.

“All these years –” he whispers, “How is it possible? I thought it was a dream. Vesemir told me it was a dream, that I was in so much shock that I conjured it up in my mind. A horse in the snow, chestnut brown, and…”

“And me,” Jaskier almost chokes out, “It wasn’t a dream.”

Geralt looks pained. All this talk about that day must be dredging up terrible memories and Jaskier never wants to hurt him on top of that.

“Do you remember what I said before you went back?”

To which Geralt chuckles tightly.

“That whole day was a bit hazy in my memory, Jask. Vesemir was right in that I was in shock. And I’ve tried so hard to forget about that day, to bury it so I don’t have to think about it.” he holds on to Jaskier, studying him in a new light. “I just remember that you made me feel so warm, Jask. You were the only good thing on the worst day of my life.”

The ache in Jaskier’s chest lessens somehow at those words. For whatever reason destiny decided to weave their fates together, he’s grateful for it just for that moment’s solace alone.

“You knew you were leaving.”

“I did. Now that I know, it was the first time I ever got pulled through time. To you.”

“I did promise we would see each other again.” Jaskier smiles.

Geralt pauses for a moment. Gradually, the golden yellow lights up like the most beautiful constellation in the night sky.

“You promised to never leave me.”

This time when their lips come together, it’s quiet and natural, like a piece of puzzle falling into place. Jaskier backs Geralt towards the bed, and they almost fall over onto the mattress, breaking the contact.

Geralt chases him with heated fervor, to which Jaskier gladly returns with a soft moan. He’s missed his witcher after all. Any space separating them at this moment needs to be closed like it personally offends him.

Tomorrow morning, Jaskier will wake Geralt with fingers through his hair and lips pressed to his forehead. Tomorrow Jaskier will tell him how much he loves him, over and over again. It won’t be the first time Jaskier has uttered the words, but it will be the first affirmation Geralt receives. Tomorrow Geralt will crinkle his eyes and return the words sleepily while dragging Jaskier back under the covers.

Tomorrow they’ll start a new chapter, together.

For now, they fall into each other under the night sky of the Blue Mountains, in a small room with a roaring fire burning in the hearth, tucked away from war and heartbreak.

#geraskier #geralt of rivia #time travel #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #the witcher fic #geraskier fic #geralt apologizes

[whumpingcrow]

"Lifeguard on Duty"

Another first person August drabble, focusing on parallels with Allen x August and Elias x August :)

CW: pool setting, drowning themes, injury descriptions (graphic), hypothermia mention, patronizing/degrading language, self destructive/masochistic whumpee, old injury being re-injured, stabbing mention, drug use/description (explicit), ptsd/flashback mention, weight mention, creepy/intimate/sadistic whumper, breaking bones, ableist themes, gun use (graphic), character death, blood (graphic), restrained whumpee (let me know if I missed anything!)

"Please," Allen whined for the umpteenth time, struggling helplessly against my tight grip. He'll bruise from it, I know, I've seen countless bruises blossom underneath my fingertips against his pale skin. He must be iron deficient, with how easily I can damage him. Unless I'm just much more rough with him than I realize. "Please, it's c...cold, I don't want to!"

I laugh at him. There's a sharp panicked edge to his begging, as if I'm not just tossing him in the damn pool, as if he's not a grown ass adult. I wonder if he knows how to swim. I don't ask him, deciding it would be more entertaining to find out this way. "I know it's cold, idiot, that's why it's fun."

Allen scrambled away from the edge of the pool that I'm dragging him towards, already shivering before he's even touched the water. He was only in a thin pair of boxers, and I bet anything the snow is making his bare feet burn. He gasps as I easily hoist him up, struggling, before I even knew him he was this small and pathetic thing, and sometimes I wonder if he sticks around me as a new form of self-destruction, if his bad habits before were getting old.

"P-please, I don't want to-"

I try to imagine what he feels when his body hits the water as I drop him carelessly in. His lungs probably constrict in shock alone, and judging from the way he doesn't move for a second or two, his muscles must be taught and paralyzed from the cold. When he does start moving, it looks like it might be taking great effort.

I watch in amusement as Allen thrashes about in the freezing water, gasping fearfully as he tries to keep his head above water. "You can't swim?" I tease him. Then, as if the idea of him keeping himself up by desperation alone isn't delighting me, I say: "If you told me that I wouldn't have thrown you in."

"N-no," Allen chokes out. "I-it's my leg-" his head slips back underwater, and he's only able to kick back up because of the panic that's overtaking him. I forgot about the old injury he told me about, one I've often thought about repeating, a pocket knife straight into his thigh, severing muscle and nerves. It must hurt to try and keep himself afloat in the bitter water with the not completely healed scar. And I nearly forgot that before we came outside, I had gotten him aggressively high, and he was complaining about his head spinning. I wonder how it feels now that he's nearly drowning. I can see his eyes search frantically for some sort of ladder or steps, but the pool is deep all the way around. It's surprisingly easy to remove ladders from a pool, if you've got the right tools. "P....please, August!" He begs again, reaching one trembling hand out desperately. He has no idea what it does to me when he cries my name that way.

"You're turning blue," I respond, kneeling down next to the edge. "It probably doesn't help that you're so thin, huh?"

Allen chokes on some water, pulled back under the waves once more. He stays under for a few seconds, allowing his legs to rest for as long as he can without letting the icey water or the lack of air take over. How much pain would it take for him to consider staying under, letting it overcome him? How long until he gives up, succumbs to the dark, choppy waves and sinks to the bottom, defeated?

Then he pushes himself back up above the water, his lips a slightly purple hue as he takes shivering, gasping breaths in through them. I want to kiss them until they're pink again.

"August," he wheezes weakly, the cold water is no doubt tiring out his muscles. "August, baby, I c...can't swim anymore....my leg...please..."

Again, my name coming out of his mouth in this way, soaked in desperation and agony and terror is too much, makes me melt on the inside. And then he's saying "August, baby," and it makes me think about how I'm going to have to warm him up somehow and I should probably get him inside and out of his wet boxers and start warming him up, that would be responsible of me. So I hold my hand out toward him. Allen takes it gratefully, eagerly, allowing me to yank him up and out of the water. He collapses onto his knees, wrapping his arms tight around himself.

He sighs in relief as I drape a towel over his shoulders, rubbing it against his arms to warm him up. "That wasn't f-funny," he huffs at me, almost scolding. "I was fucking sc-scared."

I stare at him in silence for a moment, then I stand straight again. Just as quickly as I started to adore him so much it hurt, I'm furious with him. He should be thanking me, thanking me for toying with him, for just dropping him in the water and not hurting him first, for taking him out so soon. I could have done so much worse, I still can do so much worse. He's ungrateful, he's an idiot, he's so fucking annoying. I don't say any of that though, I only take a step back before kicking him hard in the ribs, a sickening crack can be heard over Allen's animalistic cry. I watch him collapse, unable to breathe for a few seconds. Once he can, it comes in short, rasping gasps, and he grabs tightly at the towel wrapped around him. "Don't you ever speak to me that way, again." I growl at him, kneeling down and grabbing a fistful of his hair. "Understood?"

Allen doesn't speak, letting out a few weak, watery sobs. I see blood in his mouth, he can't breathe, his ribs are broken, I realize distantly, too distantly to care. He screams as I yank him up, holding him by the arm to dangle him carelessly over the pool.

"I said, understood?" I reiterate. Allen squeezes his eyes shut and his head drops back, like he's barely able to keep himself conscious under the haze of pain.

"Y...yes...." He manages to hiss out.

"Good. Now do a few laps." I drop him back into the water carelessly. As far as I can see, he doesn't even struggle this time, the pain probably too intense to allow much movement. He floats just under the water for a moment or two before he exhales, and he sinks to the bottom. I stare disdainfully at the water, waiting for Allen to struggle again. He doesn't though, and after a minute, I feel some of the severity of what I've caused.

I jump into the water after him, Allen was right, the water is viciously cold, biting and clawing at my skin. It takes all of my focus to push past it, not freeze up, and grab Allen to pull him to the surface. It's easy enough to fling him onto the snow covered concrete outside of the pool, then I climb out after him. Allen is still gasping in pain, holding his hand over an already bruising area of skin over his ribs.

"Sweetheart," I hear myself cooeing, my voice shaking from how badly I'm shivering. "Oh, I am so sorry, I didn't realize I hurt you so badly."

Allen flinches away from me, whimpering in pain. Once he's sure I won't hurt him again, he squints up at me, his whole body trembling. "I'm...I'm sorry...."

"Can you stand up? We gotta get you inside before you freeze to death."

Allen shakes his head weakly, sniffling a little as he does, tears springing to his eyes at how much even that hurts. I look over him, calculating. I have to figure out how to get him inside as quickly as possible, since I've obviously made painlessly not an option. "I think...I think I have to carry you."

"No," Allen pleads, voice soaked though with tears, "no, please, it...it hurts..."

"I know, and I'm sorry. But you'll get sick if you stay out here. How about I take you inside and get you a nice hot bath? Then I'll get you some blankets, we can watch a movie. How's that sound?"

Allen lets out a weak sob, closing his eyes tight as another bout of pain takes over. "Just g-go, hngh....go quick, please."

I nod, taking a deep breath to prepare myself. This specific brand of pain isn't as much fun for either of us, I've noticed that we both much rather prefer the purposeful, planned out torture rather than the agony that comes before relief. "I'll try to make this painless."

Allen's breathing catches suddenly at that, and he stares up at me in horror. I've said something upsetting, I realize, I can tell by the look on his face alone. This happens often, when I say something that sounds too close to things I've said before, when we first met. We were different then, I was hurting him for the money and he only knew me as the dumb ass rabbit mask I had to wear to not be recognized. I can tell he's spinning out into a flashback, the way the horror in his eyes is veiled over in a way that's not totally present, afraid of something he's been through before, frightened by the outcome he already knows is coming. He's suddenly overcome with adrenaline, and he scrambles way from me, slipping a little on the snow.

"G-get away!" He cries, holding up an arm in a pathetic attempt to defend himself. "Don't touch me again! Leave me alone!"

I frown at how quickly he's moving, how it must be wreaking havoc on his already shattered ribcage. I need to calm him down, he's hurting himself worse and it's going to be my responsibility to fix and I'm already annoyed enough with the damage I caused. "Allen...I'm not going to hurt you, swee-"

"Please, please, don't touch me! I'll do anything you a-ask, just don't t-touch me!" He's shaking still, but I guess at this point it's more out of fear than how cold he is.

"Ok," I speak softly, inching toward him. It's fucking freezing, I want him to stop freaking out so we can go inside and get warm. "I won't. Just please, calm down." I hold my hands up to try and make him understand that I mean no harm, that I'm just trying to help. Allen takes a few shaking, shallow breaths, looking at me with wary eyes. He slowly lowers his own hands. "That's it, good boy."

Recognition falls over his face, and just like that he's back with me. He's no longer apart of a ransom, I'm no longer a villainous rabbit, and he let's out a relieved whine. Before all of his adrenaline completely fades and his body remembers that it's supposed to be in pain, I pick him up and take him inside.

---------------------------------------

I left for ten god damn minutes. When I ducked out of the room to do some lines in the bathroom, I was slightly entertained by the idea of Elias, adorably stupid Elias, rolling on molly and tweaking helplessly in front of all of my patronizing friends. I had noticed how he was completely oblivious that they were teasing him, high as he was, thinking all of their mimicking and joking was all in good fun, and I wondered what it would take to make him realize that it wasn't.

And now, in the ten minutes that I've been gone, one of them had a gun. The first gunshot stuns me for a moment, freezing at the sink where I'm washing my face off, listening closely because who the fuck is shooting a gun? And then the second one rings out, and the third immediately after, and then I'm flying down the hallway and into the now empty kitchen. I see them crowded in front of the pool outside through the window, and my heart sinks when I don't see Elias.

When I'm outside, I can sense their panic before I'm even close to them, they're all cussing and shouting at each other, "oh shit dude why did you fucking do that you weren't supposed to really hit him what the fuck is wrong with you?!"

I shove my way through them, coming to a full stop in front of the pool. The water is stained red around Elias's thrashing silhouette under the waves. I turn to look at them to find the stupid motherfucker that did this.

Sawyer, the stupid motherfucker himself, gives himself away immediately, one of my friends from before I met Allen. He's holding the gun up in admission, horrified look on his face as he rushes "I'm so fucking sorry, man, it was an accident, I swear!"

I snap the gun out of his hand, enjoying the wet crack that comes when I pistol whip him right in the cheekbone. It's satisfying, but it isn't justice, not yet. Elias is bleeding in the pool, and Sawyer is just a pathetic bitch crying on the ground. I shoot him in the leg. There's the justice. Blood is already puddling underneath him, and everyone else is shuffling away in fear, worried they might be next for being bystanders.

I walk a few feet to the left, where Elias is growing still under the water, his fight weakening, presumably from blood loss. I'm able to get a grip on his arm, and I pull him up and drop him on the sidewalk. And then I see his arms are tangled up -tied up, actually- in his own shirt. Suddenly the single wound on Sawyer's leg isn't enough, suddenly I'm blinded by an overwhelming urge to watch him die. Suddenly justice just...doesn't cut it.

I untie Elias and pull him up to his feet, hugging him close to my chest to try and ease his panic. He gets my clothes wet and blood stained, his shoulder is where they got him, and it's now soaking the entire left side of his body in blood.

When I force the gun into his hand and tell him what he has to do, he freaks out. He begs me not to, he says he doesn't want to that. I don't care what he wants, he doesn't understand that this is well deserved, that Sawyer has to take responsibility some way.

Sawyer begs too, as much as he can through his fear. I'm bothered at how he thinks that asking for mercy is going to save him when he's done something so awful to Elias.

I tell Elias to stop moving, I tighten my grip on his trembling hand, I make Elias pull the trigger. He flinches and then turns to stone against me, it feels like his body stops completely, down to the beating of his heart, down to the blood in his veins. I feel better instantly, satisfied. I take Elias inside to clean him off.

#finally!! some actual allen x august content! #please really mind the cw #elias x august #allen x august #whump tropes #whump comfort #whump prompts #whump prompt #whump art #emotional whump #whump #whump fic #captivity whump #whump ideas #whump scenario #whumpblr #pet whump #whump drabble #whumpee #whump writing #whump community #whump blog #caretaker #intimate whumper #defiant whumpee #whump series #whump stuff #whump story #whump oc #whump aftermath

[raysreads]

Teen Wolf Character Scents

Okay this might sound weird, but I’ve been reading a lot of Teen Wolf fic lately and it always puts a heavy emphasis on what the character smells like. Because...werewolf senses and everyone has a natural scent. I personally love this so here are my headcanons for what each characters natural scent would be!!!!!

(I give reasons for why I went with those things but some of the reasons themselves are headcanons, and some just came to me and have no reason at all besides that fact that i love it that way)

So background info: I headcanon some scents are from birth, while some are added/change based on experiences, temperament and emotions. You have your own scent and it does its own thing, even when you’re human. Humans cant smell them since they aren’t necessarily real, they are more a smell supernaturals pick up that’s a cryptic reflection of ones personality.

Stiles: Gotta start with the main boi!!!! He smells like spicy chili peppers, honey and everything spicy. He is wild and loud and so so sharp. He uses cutting anger and snark and sarcasm as a defense mechanism, this reflects in a scent that burns your nose. But he cares and loves a lot and is super soft, hence the honey. If you focus on his scent too much your eyes water with the chili. When he gets angry he send tears down everyone’s faces and even reddens the cheeks and burns the tongues of the supernatural pack members in his anger, his scent becoming physical as his spark acts up.

Peter: He smells like cold. Like cold, and petrichor and mint toothpaste. He always has. He smells like the cold of ice, the cold you smell when you open a freezer in the cold isle of the grocery store and like Vick’s Vaporub but 10x as strong. As the left hand of the pack it was his job to kill, to eliminate threats, his job to bear all the blood on his hands, to have his hands permanently stained sticky red and his eyes glow blue, so that no one else in the pack has to live with the guilt of murder, even when justified. His first kill was at 8 years old and he would never forgive the fact that he had been given that burden. So he became unmovable ice and unending cold. With the thick smell of rain for the warmth he would always keep hidden.

Theo: His scent is that of fresh, right off the smoker, BBQ sauce-soaked ribs and apple juice. Its a scent he was born with, one that reflects the gooey warmth of his soul and his innocence before he was manipulated and tortured. His scent always throws people off since it usually reflects ones personality and he’s not a good person by any means, he is amoral and cruel; and such a warm, soft scent doesn’t make sense. But his soul (though no longer pure) would always hold his original innocence. The apple juice isn’t actually his scent, but his sisters, her heart such a part of him that his guilt manifested her soul in his scent. And if you focus hard enough, underneath all that you can find the sting of bleach. His time with the dread doctors (and the fact that he was surgically tortured into being a chimera) leaving part of his scent mangled and altered into the artificial tang of bleach. The fact that he forced his scent to remain mostly unchanged throughout his life (which was worse than hell on earth) is Very Very Impressive, even more so when in the beginning he wasn’t even supernatural.

Scott: Our ever-sweet true alpha. He smells like overly sweet pink and blue cotton candy and hot, buttered, movie theater popcorn. He’s literally sugar and spice and everything nice. His morals and warmth translating to the hot popcorn and his perpetual smiling and niceness coming though as cotton candy. He smells like fairgrounds and the laughter of children. Underneath all that he bears the subtle scent of rust,  a permanent reminder of his forced change to the supernatural and permanent resentment of the burden he must bear (and the guilt about that resentment)

Derek: He smells of Sandalwood, Patchouli, and Frankincense. He always smells like incense and spices, like the inside of a stereotypical fortune tellers shop. He becomes heat, warmth, and flame. Something that pulls at his soul since the fire. Something that is a comfort to the wolves around him. He also smells heavily of smoke (something that makes Peter unable to be in the same room as him for longer than 30 minutes unless forced) because of his never-ending guilt about his family, something that seared the event into his scent. When he’s angry (which is a lot) his scent gets stronger and the incense smell becomes extremely heady and makes his betas lethargic.

Lydia: She smells like metal, like your hands after handling handfuls of change. She smells like she bathed in pennies, her standoffish coldness bringing the bitter smell to her scent. Since she became a banshee she also smells strongly of spider lilies (also know as hell flowers), japans flower of death. You would think the contrast between bitter metal and floral scents, so strong you choke, would be bad but its actually strangely comforting. And while bitter its the only thing that can get Jackson to relax some days. The scent of the only person there for him for over a decade-and-a-half sometimes even more comforting than the scent of his boyfriend.

Isaac: His scent is of strong cologne even though he never wears any, he smells like he bathed in the Mahogany Teakwood candle from Bath and Body Works, or lived in an Abercrombie & Fitch for 50 years. He always had that smell, even as a child, but it just gets stronger the more confidence he gains. His childhood innocence and cleanliness of soul translates as a strong laundry soap smell. But hidden underneath there's an undertone of metal, plastic, and cold; that takes over his scent when he's scared and overwhelmes everything in a mile radius. It takes the Pack far too long to realize it smells like a freezer and metal chains.

Allison: She smells strongly of ozone and static (not rain though, never rain). Her anger and righteous fury making her scent like electricity and making the static-y-ness tingle in everyone's nose - sometimes making Scott sneeze. Nothing in her scent is pleasant or comforting to everyone's confusion. Its only when she feels negative emotions that she smells like roses and summer. Its like a warning but in reverse, the opposite of what it should be. Bad scents usually mean bad emotions or feelings or memories, and good scents mean good moods and positive things but for her its the opposite. Just like how she took the opposite path then what was laid out for her.

Jackson: He smells very very heavily of cherries, his scent so strong and sweet its like he took a bath in a hot tub filled with cherry cough medicine, chloraseptic cherry sore throat spray, cherry pie, cherry starburst, cherry Jell-O, and maraschino cherries. Its thick and sticky and strong enough to drown out the scent and stick for hours on anyone standing near him or touching him and it lingers on the Pack members even if they haven’t seen each other for years. Case-in-point: Jackson left for England after the kanima thing and Isaac left for France not long after. When Isaac came back 6 years later (2 years after Jackson came back) he still had the smell on him pretty strongly. Why cherries? No one knows. But its thick as hell and stronger than epoxy when it binds to things together forever. The Pack thinks it stems with his identity and abandonment issues, but once he claims you he wont let go, not even his scent. He is very self conscious and embarrassed about it so its never discussed, and he’s been friends with Danny for so long that his scent almost drowns out Danny’s own. 

Ethan: Ethan’s scent is subtle and barely there. He was the one who always stood in front of Aiden to protect them, and took the beatings when possible so his scent became as bland and barely-there as possible. The Pack can only smell his scent with intense focus and at least an hours meditation (unless you’re Aiden). He smells of freshly baked bread and homemade jam, comforting smells that easily calm Aiden down. In times of distress he smells of burnt toast, he scent twisting with negative memories. A reminder that all good things have eventually turned bad for him and his twin.

Aiden: Aiden on the other hand smells strongly like curry and lavender. An odd combination but one that speaks of his guarded- but angry, headstrong and stubborn- nature. The abuse left him angry and twitchy and paranoid, everything setting him off and his moods turning on a dime. His scent fluctuated wildly between spicy curry and calming lavender which indicated his mood and Ethan was the only one able to calm him down, doing so with a single touch between his shoulder blades where they merged.

Danny: Danny smells like he lived in a Eucalyptus oil factory for 50 years, the scent soothing and calm like he is. Its always the same and never changes, not even when his emotions do. It was concerning at first, since everyone else’s scents changed throughout the day, even when their mood didn't (the only other scent that barely changed was Peter’s but that was because the man hand an iron grip over his emotions, even in his scent. Which is super impressive). He was just that calm at all times, even when annoyed. The one time he got angry- and I mean really angry not just the pretenses he kept when ‘annoyed’ with Stiles who he more endeared with than anything- his scent overwhelmed the entire apartment complex ( the one Derek had bought out for his loft) with the horrible, strong, pungent scent of burnt rubber. No one angered him again.

But they did have a chat about his witch ancestry.

Erica: Her scent was that of a bonfire. A blazing bonfire, gasoline, and the smell of the world when it was so hot outside the air above the tar street shimmered. She was competitive, and fierce, and pure heat and burning. If she wanted something, she would take it she had always been that way, even when she was sick. And while her sickness may be gone she had a subtle distortion to her scent, one like poison, that made her always smell slightly sick. (Peter almost had a panic attack when he first met her because of her scent, he now never came within 10 feet of her).

Boyd: He smelled like a flower garden. He was so stoic that the floral scent took many by surprise. He had always smelled like soil and dirt, his down to earth personality manifesting as a calming and grounding scent. He also smelled like the ocean, like salt and brine, and waves. But that was all drowned out by the overwhelming smell of flowers, a scent that used to be his sisters, one that he subconsciously adopted after her death when he was still human. He empathized with Theo and would exchange heavy glances when the pack discussed their natural scents as a ‘pack bonding exercise’, they were both drowned in guilt for different reasons, but both over lost sisters. They never discussed it. That was all folks!!! Feel free to add on to this and/or use it as a fanfic reference!!! Do you agree??? What are your headcanons???

#teen wolf #stiles stilinski #peter hale #theo raeken #scott mccall #derek hale #lydia martin #isaac lahey #allison argent #jackson whittemore #ethan steiner #aiden steiner #danny mahealani #erica reyes #vernon boyd

[one-leaf-grimoire]

chapter 7

chapter 7 of my medieval AU fic. Things are about to go down uh oh 0.0

Ft. my friend @fuegoleonvermillion 's OC Sei!

AO3 link

Eventually, Lisa pulled herself back out of bed and to the bathroom, where she splashed a healthy amount of water onto her face. She didn’t want to look at her reflection, so she just hoped that her eyes weren’t too red before turning to leave for dinner. Her mind was still swirling with troubled thoughts, although by now the crescendo had dwindled down to a dull, bitter tang on the back of her tongue.

I hope to god I’m just overthinking all this, she thought to herself, wiggling the fingers of her encased arm as she walked. I probably just need to eat. And anyway, I get to see Julius again tomorrow. It’s the perfect time to bring up that sort of worry…

But at the same time, what if addressing the matter just brought the end along more quickly? That was the last thing Lisa wanted. With a groan, she paused outside the mess hall, squeezing her eyes shut briefly in an attempt to recenter her emotions. For now… just don’t think about it. Try and have a relaxing night, and look forward to tomorrow.

With that, her eyes popped back open, her usual smile on her lips. With a newfound spring in her step, Lisa used her shoulder to push the door open, ready for dinner.

That’s right… I get to see him tomorrow!

Lisa’s eyes fell upon the occupants of the mess hall, and for some reason, she stopped walking. Fuegoleon was there, Sei by his side as usual, with a few other squad members huddled around them. Standing before the Captain was a knight, wearing the cloak of the prestigious Golden Dawn squad. Huh? What is he doing here-

“What do you mean, the King is missing? Explain!”

Fuegoleon’s demand cut Lisa’s thoughts off.

The Golden Dawn knight, panting and clearly out of breath, sucked in air through his nose before repeating his message for the whole room to hear.

“King Julius was kidnapped about an hour ago! Enemy intruders were spotted in the castle, but it was too late; he was taken! We think they headed northeast!”

Lisa didn’t move, she didn’t really react either. She just stood there, silently, the color slowly but surely draining from her face.

“Dear god…” Fuegoleon looked around at the other Crimson Lions before turning back to the messenger. “You’re positive?”

Sei’s gaze landed on Lisa for a moment. His eyes didn’t narrow dubiously like they often did; Lisa could pick up flecks of sympathy in their golden depths.

Oh… oh god…

“Sei!” The vice-captain’s attention was pulled back to Fuego, who now had a resolute expression. “Gather our best knights, we’re going to go find these enemies and get King Julius back!”

“Wait! I have orders from Captain Vangeance!”the messenger piped up. “He sent me to bring you and your men to the castle; he wants to devise a plan.”

“A plan? But, we should strike now!” Fuegoleon objected. “You said the enemies headed northeast? That would lead them close to our squad!”

“I can’t allow you to do that,” the messenger insisted, looking a bit scared. “You can take it up with Captain Vangeance when we reach the castle.”

After a long, intense moment, Fuegoleon let out a sigh. “Fine. Sei, come on, gather the senior knights.” There wasn’t much they could do; William Vangeance, being the leader of the best squad, was the one who led the military when Julius was unable to. And this was one of those times. An order from him was as powerful as an order from the king himself.

“Right.” Sei turned to leave, noting that Lisa was no longer standing in the doorway.

A few minutes later, the party was suited up, heading to the stables to ride to the castle. They’re having us wait all this time before even beginning our pursuit? Fuegoleon thought to himself, furrowing his brow. It seems unwise… it may already be too late. Who knows what brought this abduction on, but Lord Julius is a good man! I won’t let anyone harm him!

He was suddenly distracted as he noticed that Sei had stopped walking, lagging behind a bit. “Sei? What’s wrong?” Fuegoleon turned to look at him, concern on his face.

Sei pointed at one of the stalls. Normally, there would be a horse there, but it was empty. Realization hit Fuegoleon all at once. “Hold on, that’s-”

“Lisa’s horse. It’s gone.” Sei gulped, furrowing his brow before turning to Fuegoleon. “I’m going to have to split from you guys… I can’t explain now, but I think Lisa might have done something supremely stupid.”

Fuegoleon was confused, and now fear struck in his heart at Sei’s words. Lisa? In danger? What is she doing that’s so stupid? I don’t understand! He wanted nothing more than to press further, but he knew Sei well enough to read his tone of voice. Gulping nervously, Fuegoleon gave his husband a nod. “Alright… I trust you. Whatever she’s doing, get her to safety.”

“I will, don’t worry. Don’t get too bored at that ‘meeting.’” Sei leaned up just enough to press a kiss to Fuegoleon’s cheek, a quick yet reassuring gesture. I’ll take care of it. Worry about yourself, my love.

……………………………..

The first sensation to register in Julius’s mind was the sound of crackling flame. It was dull at first, but grew in intensity along with a piercing pain in his temples. With a groan, he shifted, hearing dirt grind under his uncomfortable body.

… where am I?

Slowly, his eyes blinked open, revealing the hazy world. It was dark, the only light coming from a campfire a few meters away. People were huddled around it, as if it would protect them from the forest surrounding them.

… that’s right… I was kidnapped… that waiter looked so familiar…

It was all coming back to him now. Panicking, Julius sat up, only to realize that his ankles and wrists were bound tightly. He strained for a moment, wincing as the rope rubbed painfully into his skin.

“Ah, look who’s awake! I forgot how badly you snored, Captain.”

Captain?

Julius looked up to see a figure approaching him, their face shadowed. They came to a stop a few feet away, their golden eyes glinting in the firelight.

“You slept like a baby. And I wouldn’t try to escape those bindings, I’m pretty good with knots.”

“Who are you? And what do you want?” Julius asked, keeping his voice level. He was scared, yes; anyone would be in this situation. But he was very good at keeping calm in the midst of fear, as he faced many treacherous situations on the battlefield years ago.

The figure chuckled. Recognition flickered in the back of Julius’s mind. “I’m hurt, captain… I looked up to you so much, and yet you can’t even remember me? That’s sad…”

Captain? Should I recognize him?

Julius narrowed his eyes. At that moment, the fire flared up a bit, casting light onto his captor’s face. It was just a moment, yet it was enough to pour the memories back into Julius’s mind

“...P-Patri?!”

The man’s smile fell, but Julius knew he was right. Despite everything that was happening and the danger he was in… Julius couldn’t help but feel a resounding relief in his soul. Patri narrowed his eyes. “What are you smiling about?”

“Oh…” Julius shook his head, blinking a few times as everything sunk in, “Nothing… just… I’m glad to see you alive, Patri.”

The annoyed look on patri’s face quickly morphed into one of rage at Julius’s statement.

“...how DARE you!”

Without warning, the man yelled his words, as if he were hurling knives at Julius.

“After everything you’ve done, you’re glad to see me alive?” Patri gave a half-hearted, mirthless chuckle. “Well, I wish you cared this much when I was kidnapped off the battlefield! But you didn’t give half a shit then, did you?”

Julius winced, the details of their shared past coming back to him more clearly now. He didn’t know what to say to his former comrade; whatever he thought about the situation, Patri was clearly more upset than he could imagine. And probably rightfully so.

“Patri… I thought you were dead. We all did. I mean- When someone goes missing on the battlefield like that-”

“Julius, we both know that the Diamond Kingdom doesn’t kill their prisoners of war. At least not quickly. You… you have no idea what I’ve been through.”

The fire flickered again, those sitting around it absolutely silent as Patri continued to speak. Julius’s eyes widened as, for the first time, he saw Patri’s whole face. It was familiar to him; a face he had first seen when Patri was just a boy, joining the squad along with William, Yami, and all the others. Julius had been proud to call himself their captain, and when they lost Patri, he was devastated.

But… I didn’t lose him, did I? I gave up on him…

He could still remember William’s plea.

“Please, Sir Julius… please let me go save him!”

One of Patri’s sclera was black, burned by some painful means. The fire died down, casting the man’s face back in shadow.

Julius’s shoulders slumped, and he could no longer look Patri in the eye. His gaze fell to his feet, his eyes dulling.

“....I’m sorry. I truly am... “

Patri shook his head a little before backing away towards the campfire again. “In any case, that’s not why I’m here… not entirely. Despite being unable to save little ol’ me, you, the elite Mighty Stag, managed to decimate many of the Diamond Kingdom’s best forces. They hold a grudge as well, so in exchange for my freedom, I promised to bring you to them.”

Julius’s blood ran cold. Shit! That’s not good. “Wait! Patri-” Julius called out before he could leave. “You’re already safe here; I can protect you!” He gave the younger man a smile. “Let me make up my sins! I promise-”

“No.” Patri smiled to himself, glad to see Julius shut up. “I made a promise too.”

“Yes- a promise to the kingdom who captured and tortured you!” Julius cut in. An emotion Julius couldn’t quite place flashed through Patri’s eyes. “If not me, come back for William! For yami! For everyone who cares about you! We’ll protect you!”

“NO!”

Patri whipped back around angrily, but the look on his face, although brief, was unmistakable:

Fear.

“I can’t go back on this promise. I’m not a spineless lier like you. So… just wait. We’ll continue our journey at daybreak.”

Without another word, Patri stalked away to his new comrades, leaving Julius alone to curl up and try to sleep in the dirt.

…………………………………………….

Daybreak came quickly. The forest was quiet, unfortunately, the only sounds being that of the birds’ morning choir.

“Come on… there has to be something… some kind of clue…”

Lisa’s eyes darted around the trees as she trudged through the undergrowth, one hand holding onto the reins of her horse and the other fidgeting uncomfortably within her cast. She had a feeling that she would be able to take it off any day now. It was getting too itchy to bear. But in a pinch, she knew she could throw it off and charge into battle if needed.

So far, her search had yielded no clues. All she had to go on were her own instincts and the directions given by the messenger yesterday. The night had been a long one, and eventually she got so tired that she was forced to tie up her horse and curl up in an uncomfortable patch of weeds. Even then, she found it hard to sleep.

Julius…

Lisa’s hand had tightened on the handle of her Rapier.

I have to save him… I have to! Even if I’m the only one fighting, I’ll save him!

She didn’t know why Julius was taken, or who she found be fighting, but the mere thought of never seeing him again made every bone in her body hurt.

I can’t… lose him…

Her feet hurt, her head throbbed, and her horse was getting more and more resistant to her lead. But Lisa pressed on, determined to find Julius.

“Hey. Fancy seeing you out here.”

Lisa screamed in surprise and whirled around to see none other than Sei a few meters away. Despite being on his own horse, he had made virtually NO noise when he approached. Lisa gulped, coming down from her shock. “Sei! W-What are you doing out here?”

“I should be asking that to you.” Sei came to a stop next to her before gracefully dismounting. “Seriously… are you in a hurry to die?”

“...no,” Lisa mumbled, looking away awkwardly. “It’s just- no one else was going to do anything! I thought it would help if someone went ahead to scout out the trail, even if it was just me-”

Sei rolled his eyes. “Cut the crap Lisa… we both know that’s not true.”

Lisa blinked a few times, her heart pounding faster and faster. What? What does that mean? Sei-

“You and Lord Julius… you’ve been seeing each other ever since he showed up at our celebration, right?”

The words hit Lisa like a freight train. Her face immediately heated up, turning a shade more befitting of a tomato. “HUH?! Er- Sie!! Why on earth would you think that- haha- I don’t even remember that night!!! Me and the KING?! That’s dumb and stupid! Poo poo! AHAH uhh yeah that’s not what’s happening-”

“Ah, I see. I’m right.” Sei smirked to himself, Lisa immediately shutting her mouth and glaring at the ground. “I can’t say I approve… but we can’t change anything now. Come on.”

Lisa looked up as Sei brushed past her, pointing up ahead.

“I smell a campfire. It’s been out for an hour at most. Who would be camping way out here?”

It took Lisa a moment that Sei wasn’t going to press the issue any further. She turned to follow him with her eyes for a moment. Wait… is he…

“You’re helping me?”

Sei paused, then looked back at his junior with a determined smile on his face.

“Of course. I’m out here anyway, and you’re right, it’s best to scout this area for clues first. Come on, let's save the King.”

Lisa quickly matched his grin, picking up the pace to walk by his side and press ahead into the unknown.

#fasdjkl #Lisa be careful- #julius novachrono #william vangeance #patri #black clover #julius novachrono x reader #julius novachrono x oc #oc: lisa #tkwptkh #knight au

[tintinwrites]

the stars were made for falling | Poe Dameron x Reader | Part Fourteen

A/N: I hope this clears any confusion from the last chapter and also wanted to mention that Reader’s confrontation with Poe in THIS chapter (there will probably be another one later) is not too intense as she’s in a lot of pain and lost a lot of blood! This is a little bit short simply bc I wanted these interactions to be their own chapter and didn’t want Reader suddenly healed with a time skip in this.

Rating: M

Warning: Blood. Naughty words. Mentions of sex. Mentions of an injury.

Word count: 1,965, apparenly!!

Summary: Leia talks to Poe and he comes to you looking for forgiveness that doesn’t exist.

Masterlist

GIF credit: I have no idea, but it’s not mine.

Tags: @marvelous-revengers​ @the-lady-of-stars​ @jxhn-mxrphy​ @ella-solei​ @chloe-skywalker​ @itsamedeemoney​ @shakespeareanwannabe​ @mxrvel-fxnxtic​ @peachdameron​ @ladyflyer20​

                                        ------------------------------

Poe was in the same position every time Leia passed back and forth down the corridor outside the basic medbay to check on your status; seated on a battered, secondhand bench with his head in his hands.

When a med droid reported to her that your wound was closed and you were stable, she had water and a cloth the next time she went into the hallway.

She didn’t continue to walk past Poe, though, and sat on the bench next to him. “Look at me.”

He lowered his hands, but didn’t look up, and Leia put her fingers under his chin to lift his head to her.

The blood on his face from where his head had been resting in his hands was dry now, and she had to scrub a little harshly to take it off his skin.

All he did was stare emptily, compliant as she soaked the cloth and moved onto his hands.

“She’s fine, but I need you to tell me what happened.” She knew Poe was perfectly capable of cleaning this off himself, but this was a way of offering comfort to a man who pretended he didn’t need any.

“Hux set everything up to bring us there...and he stabbed her.” He had always been a terrible liar and he wasn’t necessarily telling a lie as much as leaving out necessary details.

“Poe. The stab wound was about a millimeter away from killing her instantly, but that’s not what concerns me. What worries me is that if you brought her in a minute later, she would have lost too much blood to be saved. I need you to tell me everything.” The answer could have been simple; Hux stalled them from leaving right away or maybe the mission was farther away than she thought it was, but she could sense Poe hiding something.

“You wanna know everything?” Bitterness entered his voice.

Leia set aside the cloth to listen to what he was going to tell her.

“We were arguing...and she said she wished Hux had killed her because that was my fault, you know, when they first brought her in they were giving me a choice between letting her die or letting her be tortured. I told them not to kill her and it’s all my fault she was tortured. She walked away right into Hux and he was going to slit her throat unless I put down my blaster and promise we wouldn’t plot against the First Order. I thought he let her go like that.

“But then she fell and I...stared. I stared at her bleeding there on the ground like an idiot then when I finally jumped into my training, it was only because I was looking at a colleague dying because I’ve been trying to push her away so much that I didn’t even acknowledge it was her there. When I finally did, I still didn’t do a damn thing. I managed to stop being a dick long enough to get her back here.”

“Have you expressed to her that you feel guilty or have you only been arguing with her?”

He looked away.

“Y/N was crying to me about how you weren’t yourself and you wouldn’t talk to her about what happened, you know. You’re all she cared about in this.”

“She doesn’t care now. She hates me now.”

“I believe you mentioned something about trying to push her away?”

“I didn’t want to hurt her more than I already have with...me.”

She gripped onto his chin gently like the time you had cried to her, though her touch did not match her next words, “Grow up and pull your head out of your ass, Dameron. No one here is going to judge you for whatever’s been hurting you since you escaped, especially Y/N who’s been hurting for herself and for you. Pushing her away isn’t going to solve anything. Look what it nearly did to her. Set your stubbornness and pride aside and tell her. I’m sure she doesn’t hate you, but I can guarantee she’s hurt by you. Did you really think pushing her away would hurt her less than being with her?”

He watched her pick up the dish of pink water as she stood.

“You’re a good man, Poe, but you can be a stupid one, too. Talk to her when she wakes. And change your shirt.”

Leia left and Poe looked down at his blood-stained shirt having not realized how terrifying he looked at the moment.

His general was right, as always.

Though there was one thing she had gotten wrong despite what many people — and you, once — believed.

He was not a good man.

                                          ----------------------------

There was only the briefest second when you woke up that you couldn’t remember what happened or where you were now.

Then you quickly became aware of the dull sting in the middle of your back and you remembered Hux, the dagger sliding into your flesh, grabbing onto Poe in your confused desperation, and then…

You must have passed out then.

Your lips twitched into a small smile as you remembered the beautiful dream you had of Poe; no matter how much you tried not to care about him, it was nice to see emotion in his features even in a dream.

It was the new Poe you didn’t want anything to do with.

You were perfectly capable of separating the two and still missing the old Poe you knew.

Turning your head slightly, you saw Leia sitting at your bedside with a relieved smile on her face to match your dreamy one.

“It’s good to see you awake, Y/N.”

“I had this...really wonderful dream…”

Your smile dropped when Poe walked into the room with his head held low in a shirt not covered in blood. When his solemn eyes met yours, you knew it hadn’t been a dream.

Seeing the Poe you knew had made you happy and now...now...shouldn’t you be happy?

Poe was here with you again and you should’ve been thrilled, but instead you found yourself angry.

Dreams were different.

He’d never hurt you in your dreams and thinking you had seen him again instead of your usual nightmares had been blissful.

But in reality? When you had begged and pleaded, when you had sobbed in his lap and he used that opportunity to have sex that meant nothing to him?

You didn’t want his sad eyes or his pitying gaze as you laid there.

Leia noticed your cold stare over her shoulder and glanced back, standing when she saw Poe to give the two of you privacy. She patted him on the hand as she walked by him. Part of you was angry she was on his side, but you didn’t think she knew what had transpired between the two of you.

“Y/N—”

“Go away.”

“Please, baby, listen—”

“Baby? You have no right to refer to me with any sort of pet name. I’m not yours. You made sure of that when you acted like I was nothing more than good sex.”

Tears were swimming in Poe’s eyes as his own foolishness was presented to him, raking a hand through his hair. “I know that. I know. I was trying to push you away because I was scared of opening up...of hurting you more than I already have...and then I saw you and there was all this blood and I—I realized—”

You cut him off with a bitter laugh that might have been a bit tearful. “I am so glad I had to almost die for you to realize you give a shit about me.”

Words said that harshly made your muscles move in ways they shouldn’t have and you flinched and whimpered softly at the twinge in your back; the pain meds were probably wearing off.

Poe moved to the bed in an instant, reaching out to try laying you down then deciding against it, his hands falling to his sides.

“Try not to move too much, okay?”

You stayed quiet, tears falling from your eyes at both the physical and emotional pain.

“Look, look...Y/N…” He took a chance and grabbed onto your hand tightly, falling to his knees by the side of the bed.

“Poe.” You turned your head to stare at him.

“I didn’t mean what I said. Not about us and never about you. I need you to forgive me. I hate myself for what I did.”

“I don’t have to forgive you just because you feel bad.”

Poe paused, his expression turning resigned. “I know.”

You pulled your hand out of his and watched him awkwardly stand.

“What did you think was going to happen here? That you could waltz in here and tell me you didn’t mean anything and it would make all the pain you put me through go away? I gave everything to you and you acted like I wasn’t good for anything more than fucking because you were afraid. That doesn’t stop hurting with a few tears from you.”

“I’m sorry. Can’t you tell me how to fix it?”

“Go back in time and don’t break my heart like you did.”

Poe looked at you, then away, nodding slightly. You were in obvious pain from the argument and he might not have been able to go back in time to fix what he’d done, but he could do his best not to hurt you now.

Even if that meant leaving you alone for right now, giving you space to heal from your wound and his false cruelty.

He berated himself for ever being stupid enough to think hurting you was helping anything, but he wasn’t owed your forgiveness simply because he was angry at himself.

Your forgiveness was something he was going to have to earn and he knew that even with his fucked up brain as it was.

“I’m gonna tell one of the med droids that you need more medication, okay?” You didn’t respond to his gentle words and he opened his mouth to apologize again, but his words were empty to you.

Words didn’t mean a damn thing after the way he treated you.

He looked at you, then told one of the droids about your needs as promised on his way to the hallway.

BB-8 rolled straight into his feet presumably to visit you and quickly started to roll away when he saw it was Poe standing there.

He didn’t even look back when Poe called out to him, beeping things about mean and angry.

You weren’t the only one he’d hurt in his attempts to push everyone away to keep them from seeing how broken he was, from hurting them with his pain and his selfishness.

But with Beebs there were certain things he could do to be forgiven when he made him angry.

Part of him didn’t think you’d ever forgive him for what he did.

Part of him didn’t blame you.

He was going to try his damnedest to make it up to you.

He owed it to you to try even if his efforts were never enough to heal what he’d done. 

First he’d sentenced you to months of torture at the hands of the First Order then when you were finally free and full of hope, he’d dashed it with his idiotic coldness.

Could someone make up for hurting another person that much?

He didn’t know. He didn’t know a lot of things, but he was going to try fixing this if it meant going to the ends of the galaxy for you.

And though he knew you would probably never forgive him, he hoped that by some miracle you would at least consider it.

#poe dameron imagine #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #poe dameron fic

[the-darklings]

That vampire au is just 😔👌

𝙑𝘼𝙈𝙋𝙄𝙍𝙀!𝘼𝙐:【01】| 【02】| 【2.5】|

.

John sits in a tub of water, his hands covered in blood. 

You approach him unhurriedly, your eyes dragging over the powerful set of his shoulders. 

The Holy Text across his back appears even more brutal in low light and glistening water. 

“Is that what your church does? Carves up little children so they have a slight chance of opposing my kind?“

The vampire prince and his clever words. There’s been such rage in his eyes. Like he could taste the agony you were put through in your Making. 

You and Jardani were just kids. Plucked out and deemed fit for a higher purpose. No ever stopped to ask you what you had wanted though.

Tools indeed.  

Maybe that’s why it felt so good to see the vampire prince so furious on your behalf. 

“You’re late.”

“I’m fine, thank you for asking.”

His dark halo of hair turns in your direction and you watch him lower his shaking fingers into the piping hot water, hissing lightly. 

As always, his dark stare is quiet and intent as he watches you. 

Your dark shadow. 

“You’re making a mess,” you complain quietly and tug off your thick coat, dropping it on an empty chair before you approach the tub, sitting down against the iron edge. “What happened?”

Your fingers sink underwater and you grab his hand, tugging it up from the burning water as you wet a cloth with your other hand. 

“You shouldn’t be here.”

Your eyes lift to his for a moment. “Then stop looking at me like you want me closer, Jardani,” you chide softly and drag the wet cloth over his bruised knuckles. “Now tell me what happened.”

“Aurelio.”

Your mouth twitches downwards. “Hm. Werewolves are getting bolder. They believe their new treaty with Camorra saves them. Is he still alive?”

Jardani doesn’t answer immediately. You can feel that intense stare focus on your face, lips, your interlaces fingers. The droplets of blood between you.  

“For now,” he says eventually, a hint of coldness there that says that it was not his decision to grant such mercy. The church sometimes passes judgments that make you both wonder what, exactly, your mission is. If you hunt everything that could harm humanity as a way to keep them safe. Or if you exist for the sole purpose of removing those that no longer play the little power game well enough. “They fell in line eventually.”

You hum under your breath, focusing on your task and watch as the pale cloth stains with blood. 

None of it is his. 

“The vampire prince?”

Your eyes jump to him again. He didn’t want you to go—not alone at least. He had protested but the High Priest had shut down his complaining with a single cold remark. 

You are of service, my son, and you will be of service. Do not forget your place.

“Still alive,” you reveal and meet his inquisitive stare calmly. “They did not want him dead though.”

Jardani frowns; it pinches his eyebrows and tightens his mouth into something colder than he actually is. 

It doesn’t take him long to realise what your last statement means. 

He’s a dangerous, wicked thing. There is a reason why monsters fear him. 

“They wanted you to seduce him?” he whispers, his voice a low growl. His fingers tighten around yours, gripping them tight and his warm eyes have transformed into pits; dark and merciless. 

“They wanted to see if he can be swayed,” you mock, your tone dripping with displeasure at the last word. The Adjudicator’s words. Pointed and direct. Swayed might as well had meant “spread your legs and see if he bites” except literally in this instance. “They wanted to know if he can be used to get a foothold in Camorra. What’s the point of my gifts if they do not help the church. It is my divine purpose.”

Every word is as brittle as the last. They come out hollow and bitter, distant—a truth you’ve had to convince yourself for years. 

Jardani looms like a colossal, terrible thing as he listens and you can’t quite help your slight grin. You lift his now clean fingers, grazing your lips over the warm skin and his eyes latch onto the contact. 

“Do not fret, Jardani,” you reassure him knowingly, lightly, and press another kiss against his skin. A tease, an offer, and this time his eyes darken for a different reason, you know. “The prince was intriguing but you have no reason to be jealous.”

“You like him,” he points out lowly, noting your slightly pause, your thoughtful frown. “Or he won’t be alive. What happened?”

You have no rebuke for that. Santino D'Antonio had proven to be far more exciting than you ever could have imagined but that doesn’t change much. 

You are still a Hunter and he a vampire prince. 

One day, you will inevitably destroy each other. Or maybe Jardani will. 

“You do not have a bearing of a woman who settles for scraps when she can have the world.”

Frowning, you release his hand and rise to your feet, walking further into the room. You’re restless, so your fingers busy themselves with removing your holy blades. The runes cut deep into the metal glimmer when you rotate the blade in your hand with expert ease. 

Jardani’s heavy stare rests on your back as you move, expectant, and it makes you shift, feeling a tingle of your own words beneath your clothes. 

One by one you place the blades on the table. 

“He offered me eternity.“ 

There is no answer. Not for a while. 

Then, you hear him rise from the tub. The distant sound of water running down his body and back into the metal tank is the only sound in the otherwise silent room for several seconds. 

“He what?”

Your smile is grim. “Do not worry. I have no intention of being dessert to some princeling.”

“If he offered you immortality, then he wants you for more than just your blood." 

Astute as always. 

His voice is displeased and right behind you. You feel the distant warmth of him in the chill of the room. 

You turn to face him and reach for him, brushing your fingers through those midnight strands and over the scruff of his cheek. Jardani’s eyes close for a brief second, his soundless wrath receding at your delicate touch. 

He’s still nude from his bath and you tug him to you by the neck, your lips meeting in a hungry, lingering kiss. 

"We can’t,” he breathes against your mouth when he pulls back for breath, no more than a few centimetres apart. His mouth might be saying that but his arms are around you, touching, lingering, as desperate as you are. “It is forbidden.”

You kiss him again, biting his bottom lip and he groans, dragging you to him till you’re flush against him. 

“Make love to me, Jardani,” you whisper against his mouth and his grip on you constricts, his breathing laboured. “Make me forget.”

“Make you forget what?”

“Everything that isn’t you.”

Jardani obeys because he is yours as you are his and as always, he starts with the harsh, twisted carvings of the Holy Text on your back. His breath wet and hot on your skin. Gentle. 

With him, the pain and the uncertainty all fade away. 

For a while, at least. 

But not forever.

And it scares you that forever might be exactly what you want deep down.

. 

.

Your head slants and something cold brushes against your cheek. 

A careful, light touch—an experiment almost. 

Your face scrunches up at the tickly sensation and you snuggle deeper into the—

The blood in your veins rages. 

A warning knell. 

Your fingers snap to your thigh but no blade lays there. All you can touch is silk and bare skin.

Your hands wrap around a slender column of a throat harshly, your thighs locking around your target and you glare down at the figure beneath you. 

Santino D'Antonio grins; a pleased, lazy thing. His eyes spark and he tilts his head slightly as if to get into a more comfortable position. 

“This is a sight I could get used to, bella." 

"What the hell did you do?” you snarl, tightening your grip on his throat—a useless effort now that you know it’s him but some semblance of control is better than nothing. “Where am I?”

Because nothing about this place or this bed of burgundy silken sheets is familiar to you. 

The vampire beneath you hums and watches you with parted lips and hooded eyes. “You’re in my room and you’re dreaming.”

Dream walking. 

A powerful and rare vampire gift. 

It should not surprise you to learn that he has it. 

His father is the most powerful Dream Walker in the land, if not the world. You’ve heard tales of how he tortured Hunters in their dreams for sport till they were driven mad. Some say it was all for fun but others tell tales of how the Hunters—the Holy Church itself—has taken something from the vampire king and this war is a punishment. How humans everywhere have to pay for the mistakes made. 

D'Antonio’s nostrils flare suddenly, scenting the air—you—and his eyes narrow. His jaw ticks, clenching, his previous hunger fading a touch. “You reek of him,” he informs you bluntly and his mouth curves into a dismayed line, irked. “I suppose that answers my previous question about the nature of your relationship with the Boogeyman.”

You pull away from him, scrambling across his huge bed and stagger to your feet, not letting him leave your sight. 

Even if this is a dream—

You have no weapons, no way to defend yourself, not really. 

You could invoke the Holy Text on your back but that will cost you. The High Priest has warned you against calling upon it many times, stating that you were not ready. 

The vampire prince only grins at your retreat, seemingly amused. He sits up slowly, as if not to spook you, and leans against the gleaming dark wood of the headboard. You glare at him harder when you realise that he's naked. The silk barely covers him and the prominent dip of his hip catches your eye. The silky smooth skin there. 

“You can come closer. I don’t bite,” he purrs softly, his eyes a shade darker, hungrier under your scrutiny. He enjoys being admired. “Oh, my. My apologies I just realised that I do, in fact, bite, amore. My bad.”

“How am I here?”

He clicks his tongue, bored, his eyes flickering up towards the ceiling. Apart from his bed of rich, red silk the rest of the room is surprisingly open. Bright. 

“I have your scent. Once a vampire like me has that, I can find you anywhere in the dream world,” he divulges, his words a touch dull and he leans against his palm, a slight grin twitching that sensuous mouth. “How could I resist such temptation, hm?”

The hunger in those words is stifling. 

Even though you’re wearing a nightgown, you might as well be naked under that otherworldly gaze. His eyes drag over every inch of you. From the swell of your hips, to the curve of your breasts and the crook of your neck.

“Get out.”

He chuckles; a low, sinful sound, his head slanting and baring the graceful arch of his neck to you. “I’m afraid it doesn’t work like that, bella. I need you to ask nicely. Preferably while you’re moaning my name." 

His goddamn voice—

He might as well be fucking you with his words alone. Every syllable rolling off his tongue like a seductive, loving purr. 

All vampires are like this. Wicked and ready to corrupt all for the sake of their own pleasure. 

Gritting your teeth, you tug on the heat in your blood. That poison, that nectar of holy power, and leash it around yourself.

"I said get out." 

The room creeks. 

D'Antonio shifts, his eyes tracking over the walls where stone cracks. The air becoming thicker with a mix of more than just him. The Holy Text carved into your back burns and you hone in on that heat as his eyes snap to you. Wide, delighted. 

"Oh, look at you,” he speaks, his words warped with wonder, and sits up, not taking his eyes off you. “You are so much more powerful than I thought. You're magnifica."  

"I said get out.”

Stone crumbles to the floor but the vampire before you doesn’t seem to mind or care. He has eyes only for you. 

His room continues falling apart but Santino D'Antonio only bestows you with a slow, dangerous smile; a peak of his fangs appearing. 

“You had my curiosity before, Vipress,” he says, his accented words rolling off his tongue effortlessly. “But now you have my attention.”

Everything goes dark.  

#john wick x reader #santino d'antonio x reader #john wick #vampire au #supernatural au #OH MY GOSH WHAT IS IT ABOUT THIS DAMN AU SDJKFHSDJKFH #anyway i hope i'm not the only clown for this au lmao #s: i can wait #s: no one could be him

[yandere-daydreams]

Dark Era Chuuya and Dazai fighting over how to punish their darling after she tries to escape form the mafia? Thank you!

I might’ve worked under the assumption that the Reader-Insert used to be a hostage for the Port Mafia before being ‘taken in’, but... I just couldn’t resist. I love the boys and their abandonment issues.

TW: Mentions Of Injury, Mentions of Isolation/Starvation, and Mentions of Dehumanization

~

Your captors were always angry. You’d gotten used to it, as the days turned into weeks and those weeks became long, hope-crushing months, your position as a ‘rival hostage’ soon turning into an imprisonment you doubted Chuuya was as adamant on ending as he insisted. Dazai was another story, always as cheerful as he was clingy, but that persona would melt away the moment you called him a vulgar name or mentioned your ‘old life’, as they called it.

But, it was different, right now. They weren’t angry, or bitter, and you doubted either was making an effort to hide it.

No, they were furious, tonight.

Chuuya growled at the slightest movements, his knee digging harshly into your thigh as he kneeled over you. Usually, he would try to be gentle, speaking softly and constantly asking you if your chains were too tight, but he seemed to relish in your small, pained whimpers as metal cuffs threatened to cut off your circulation, keeping your wrists pinned against the bed’s headboard. You didn’t think this was your room, either, but it was hard to tell.

You would’ve thought Dazai was aiming to kill, if the amount of force he’d used while ‘retrieving’ you was anything to go by.

He was still huffy, crossing his arms as he let Chuuya do most of the work. You made an attempt to meet his eyes, to make yourself seem as fragile as you could, but doing anything was a strain. The back of your head hurt where his Desert Eagle had collided with your skull, and the rest of your body was far past sore, your jaw protesting it’s very existence from the hour or so you’d been gagged. But, Dazai didn’t seem sympathetic, only turning away from your buys for his affection. “Planning on wrapping this up, anytime soon?” He snapped, his impatience coming through clearly. Chuuya’s hands had fallen to your gag, toying with the cloth as he tried to find the knot, but he seemed to pause at Dazai’s words. “It shouldn’t be taking this long,” Dazai continued, slightly quieter than before. “Every passing minute only gives (Y/n) time to think of more excuses.”

“I’m working on it, alright?” Chuuya grunted, speaking through grit teeth. He handled the betrayal surprisingly well, remaining silent rather than saying something he’d regret. But the show he’d put on was only a distraction, at best. No amount of frowning and biting his tongue could trick you, not when you could feel his hands shaking as he jerked the rag down to your neck. “Maybe if you would help out and stop being so bitchy, we’d already be done.”

There was another huff, another averted glare, but Dazai took a step forward regardless. He was hesitant, and yet his gaze softened as he looked down at you, all bruised and battered and beaten. He’d been the cause for most of your injuries, ever so violent in his rage. Dazai didn’t move to help Chuuya, but he sat on the edge on your bed, supporting himself with one hand while the other cupped your cheek, his thumb pressing into a particularly nasty mark on your cheek.

“What’re we going to do with you?” His voice was significantly calmer, less emotional than it had been. Leaning into his palm was the obvious course of action, but the way he chuckled as you flinched didn’t make prolonged contact seem any more appealing than making another run for the exit. “You know we’re going to have to do something, don’t you, sweetheart? We can’t just let this kind of behavior go unchecked.”

You flexed your jaw before you opened your mouth, your throat probably too dry for you to say anything meaningful. “I… I’m sorry,” You settled on, catching Chuuya’s attention as well. “I didn’t mean to, I just get so scared when you’re not home. I wanted to look for you, but then I got lost, and I didn’t know-”

“Bullshit.” It almost surprised you, when Chuuya cut in, but the shock was shortlived. He’d made himself comfortable on your thighs, still towering over you while he positioned himself in your lap, the new-found height only making you more afraid of the scowl tugging at his lips. “We should break something, just for trying to lie. We can start with the legs, if you want.”

Dazai clicked his tongue, thinking over the suggestion and watching as you tensed up. There was a seriousness to Chuuya, a stone-cold honesty that made it clear his threats weren’t hollow. You were almost thankful when Dazai broke the silence, the panic half a second away from making your struggle start all-over. “That’s so cruel, Nakahara, you can’t really want to hurt our angel.” His fingers drummed against your skin, short nails scrapping at dried blood, and you wondered how far they’d go to out-do the other. “You don’t have an apartment, right? Clearly, we’ve spoiled them, and a few weeks spent in a cold, damp basement should help.”

“It’s not enough, they’ll just go back to being ungrateful when we give-in.” You hated it, how they could talk like you weren’t even there, but you didn’t think they cared. It’d never stopped them before. “It’ll only work if you stay strong. We wouldn’t be able to visit for a few days, and after that, they’ll have to ask nicely if they want something to eat-”

“Please,” You mumbled, the interruption near-instinctual. You didn’t want your legs to be broken, you didn’t want to be locked in a cellar, you didn’t want to be starved. Dazai’s nails clamped down around your cheek, nearly breaking the skin, but you couldn’ve taken the hint if you tried. “I’ll be good, I promise. I’ll… behave, I won’t try to run away again, I’ll do whatever you want me to!”

The two exchanged glances, expressions suddenly distant, apathetic. You wondered if you should go on, if you should beg, but luckily, Dazai started before you could. “(Y/n) doesn’t want to leave us…” He trailed off, a wide grin soon painted over his features. “How cute! We can’t leave now, baby, not when it’s so obvious why they’re trying to get out.”

Dazai was on Chuuya in a moment, clinging to his shoulders as he shook at the boy, but Chuuya never looked away from you. His eyes were intense, dark, but that smile scared you more than anything. “I don’t think we have to,” He mused, much to Dazai’s bliss. “Do you still have that leash? And that collar, the pink one? I’m sure they’d love some fresh air, but we can’t let them roam freely.”

There was an excited clap, frantic conversation and hastily made plans for their meeting, tomorrow, but you tuned it out quickly. You tried to tell yourself that this was better, than humiliation was better than injury, that their fucking kinks had to be more bearable than months of having to rely on your torturers for help, but…

But, you’d never been good at lying to yourself.

And you didn’t think you liked the idea of seeing what those monsters would do with a new pet, either.

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