heyangstlover - Tumblr blog

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

MANNNN THAT LINE

"No victory, either," you told him. "Only boys who lose their lives in the mud. Sons without fathers. Fathers without sons... brothers... we're all doomed to die."

Don't Be a Hero | Simon Ghost Riley x gn!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ Ghost

72 "Fuck... look at you"

74 "Stop biting your lip like that" ❞

: ̗̀➛ You and Ghost are inseparable in life, and perhaps even in death.

: ̗̀➛ suicide, death, blood and gore, general war, major character death/mcd

↳ @mockerycrow @vampiboi @seigwaidau

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You and Ghost had once been inseparable, always at each other's side and constantly with one another; even when you were dragged out to war, you had been right there with him to your left and you to his right. But war was never a time for pleasantries.

The tents were all huddled together and lined up, wrecked by the constant harsh winds and hardly any dryer as the rains hammered down constantly; the grounds had flooded, swampy and marshy as boots squelched loudly with every step.

The mud came up to your calves, staining your trousers dark brown and black, rendering them saggy and wet. You could never get warm, constantly shivering and shaking, hands raw and fingers stiff.

Across the muddy and bloody fields, you could always see the smoke of the enemy's camp; you could hear them singing and drinking and laughing. You often wondered what made them the enemy; they were flesh and blood, bone and phlegm as much as you were.

They laughed and they sang, they drank and they danced. They were pulled into the war for the same reason that you and Ghost were - propaganda, lies of glory, broken promises of being heroes. They were no different, you were no better. You sighed heavily as you turned to Ghost, pleading eyes as you frowned and shook your head.

"I'd love a fight," you started, "the men would love a fight. But we can't fight them."

"Why not?" Ghost asked gruffly, his voice low and quiet.

"Look at them," you pointed over to the other camp. "They're no different to us. We can't fight an enemy that's... not truly an enemy."

Ghost frowned as he nodded slowly, the image still burned into his mind.

Two hundred men slaughtered like sheep. Their bodies littered all around the courtyards, throats slashed and entrails pouring out. Eyes still open as they watched their sons die in front of them, knowing that nothing could be done.

Civilians. Horses. All were dead. The murderers had been from your side; it was not the work of the enemy and it never would be. They claimed that it was them, those poor men on the other side, but Ghost had seen it with his own eyes; the flag of his people raised high, triumphant and bragging about killing civilians.

Horses. Boys. It was disgusting, and Ghost had never been the same since. The prisoners that the so-called enemy had taken were always as well looked after as they could be within the conditions, and spoke well of their captors... the other side could not say the same.

You and Ghost always begged to be the guards of prisoners, but Price would never let you. Neither would Soap. Soap took pride in mocking and torturing them, laughing as they cried and begged to be left alone. Gaz was the only one who shared the same viewpoint as you and Ghost.

Gaz was the only decent one left on your side. Gaz was the only man left. Price and Soap were not men anymore, they were beasts. They treated their fellow man worse than animals, solely for the crime of being on the other side; Price and Soap were not men, they had denounced their humanity a long time ago.

You and Ghost were all but alone, with Gaz away on a scouting mission to see if he could find a more humane way of dealing with the enemy, you were all alone.

"Stop biting your lip like that," Ghost murmured, nudging you. "You'll cut it open. Give yourself an infection."

You didn't even realise you had been doing it, licking your lips and trying to ignore the sharp sting that seemed to ripple across your entire jaw. "We're not going to make it out alive... are we?"

He shook his head, solemn as he sighed. "No. But we can try to make it easier on them."

"Can we?" You whispered, looking at him with a sad expression.

He looked back at you, frowning. "We can try. It's not right that they should suffer. They're not... there's no enemy."

"No victory, either," you told him. "Only boys who lose their lives in the mud. Sons without fathers. Fathers without sons... brothers... we're all doomed to die."

"We were all sold the same fool's gold," Ghost pointed out, resting his hand on his pistol. "I don't want to fight anymore."

You laid your hand upon his, putting down your ammunition. "I don't, either."

"Fuck... look at you," he whispered, bringing his free hand to gently cup your jaw. "I'll see you on the other side, love."

You nodded, swallowing thickly as you loaded the pistol with two bullets. "On the other side."

Two shots. You fell by his side, and that was where you died; covered in mud and blood, days away from infected wounds. Clinging onto one another like children.

But perhaps it was better to die at your own hand, and save those poor boys across the field from the guilt of taking lives that they did not want to; perhaps it was better, easier on them. War was never fair, it would never be just and kind.

But at least the deaths of two soldiers would not lie upon those who did not wish to fight. It was easier that way. Without heroics.

#simon ghost riley

70 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

Sandor's Secret

Sandor Clegane x Fem! Reader

Summary: Sandor has a secret hidden away from everyone.

A/n: I should be writing The Wolf Among Men but I can't. Once i have an idea, I need to let it out. This is one of them. I do hope you enjoy and remember please comment. I read all the comments and it makes me so happy and gives me the boost to keep writing. ENJOY! - L

WARNING: NFSW, we are fucking, whore, Sandor likes it dirty, Hidden away from everyone, mention of abuse but not from Sandor. Border Credit: @black-dread

Word Count: 3.4K

Sandor has a secret, he’s been having it for a few years now. No one knew about it and he tends to keep it that way but the ones who were too nosy...there were taken care, of course.

No one will ever take you away from him.

Sandor has too many enemies in King’s Landing because of his brother’s wicked ways. His brother, Gregor had enemies throughout the seven kingdoms and most of the time Sandor will be the one suffering the consequences. Enemies usually thought that they could fight or hurt Gregor’s little brother to get back at him, but at the end of every fight the enemy is lying cold on the ground with their throat split open or a sword rammed into their stomach. That's why he has hidden you.

His shift taking care of the king’s bastard ended and he was walking to his small home. He lived a few miles away from King’s Landing. He had declined the housing that the king provided him in the castle. He didn't want it. He liked his privacy, was what he said. Making it home, he walked Stranger to the small stable near the house. Making sure the horse was fed and had fresh water, he shut the stable door before walking to the house. He stood in front of the wooden door and knocked five times and jiggled the knob. This was a sign he came up to make it known it was him outside.

A few seconds later, the door opened and he was pleased at the sight in front of him.

He walks in before you can jump in his arm. This was something he had gotten used to and he loves it how you greet him like this after a hard day taking care of the spoiled brat. You didn't mind the blood or the sweat on him, wrapping your arms around his neck. You kissed him on the lips. He puts you down and you immediately start to help him remove his armor. Sandor can smell the stew warming on the fire as he sits on the chair near the dining table. You knelt down in front of him and began to unlace his boots.

“Don’t gotta-”

“Hush.” You cut him off with a smile. You had this conversation with him many times before. He told you he didn't expect any special treatment since he bought you. You would shake your head and tell him it’s something you are willing to do just like you're willing to continue to sleep and live with him.

You were fresh off the boat when you came to King's Landing. No family and no money, there was the only thing to do. Sell your body. Little Finger inspected your body, lifting your arms and touching your breasts. He looked pleased when he grabbed a handful of your ass and sent you to an empty room. That night Little Finger had told the girls, the King's guards would be coming after a successful hunting trip and the whorehouse started to prepare for their paying guests.

Guards came in and you can hear their laughter and hollering as they picked their woman of the night to keep them warm. The whispers came when you saw the largest and tallest man you have ever seen walk in. You had no idea who this man was but everyone froze for a minute before turning away from him.

“Looking for a girl.” He told Little Finger. The smaller man gave him a smile and spoke to him in a low tone. You looked down at the ground when you heard the words, fresh and unused. The tall man handed him a few coins. Little Finger called out for you and the ladies gave you a pity look as you walked towards him.

“This is her, Sandor. Easy on the eyes. She just came in. No one has touched her.” You grew the courage to look up at the tall man called Sandor. You realized why everyone was whispering. Half of his face was disfigured, burn.

“Hello, Sandor.” His brown eyes softened for a moment when you greeted him.

“Go on, take good care of the prince’s guard.” You nodded and without a single thought you grabbed one of his large hands. You looked up at him when you felt him tensed up but he quickly relaxed when you began to walk with him to your room. You kept ignoring the stares from the girls and the other guards as you continued to hold his hand. You wondered why everyone was making such a big deal about it. There were men and women with facial scars, it was nothing new to you.

You grew worried as you began to think more about it. What if he was aggressive? Mean? What if it gave him pleasure in harming the woman he slept with?

Opening the door for him, he continued to stare at you closely.

“Is something wrong, Ser?” You asked as he walked inside and sat on the edge of the bed after removing his sword. His eyes are still on you as you shut the door.

“I'm not a Ser. Not a knight.” He huffed out as he leaned his sword on the bed frame. “I see.” You told him before slowly walking towards him. “You are new around here? He asked.

“I am. Is it that obvious?” You said as you kneel down to help him unlace his large boots.

“You don't know me?” He asked as you began to remove his boot and quickly started working on the other. You shook your head at him and looked up to meet his gaze.

“I'm sorry, I don't but from what Little Finger said you're the Prince’s guard so you must be very important. I hope I can meet your satisfaction, Sandor. I’m new at bei..” Your words came into a halt when you looked away.

“Being a whore.” He finished your sentence. You nodded at him as you took his other boot off.

You were about to stand up when he raised his hand. “Stay down.” You obeyed and looked ahead, you grew red when you were staring between his legs. He spread his legs and you saw the outline of his bulge. He leans forward and his hand goes under your chin, making you look up at his face. He looked so confused when he saw no fear in your eyes.

Insecurity started to brew deep in your chest and you began to thought. Were you not up to his standards? He must have many beautiful women thrown at him because of who he is and who he works for.

“Sandor, I know I’m new but I swear I will be good. I don't wish to anger Little Finger. I fear he may kick me out.” You blurted out to him. You feel him touch your cheek and your hair. With his index finger under your chin, his thumb begins to trace your bottom lip. He pulled your bottom lip and you opened your mouth letting him put his thick thumb in your mouth. Closing your mouth, you began to suck on his thumb.

Sandor sat up straight in his seat when you brought him a bowl of stew and a plate of fresh bread. He nodded at thanks to you and began to eat quickly. He was starving and the woman in the kitchen of the castle doesn't know how to make food taste good like you. He looks across the table to see you sitting down with your own bowl. He found himself glad, he never would have thought he would be living with a woman. He thought he would end up alone for the rest of his life. Now he has a beautiful woman living with him, cooking for him, treating him like a person and keeping him warm.

He found himself thinking about that night, he met you. Sleeping with you was something he never experienced. Perhaps it was because you were so kind to him, you didn't flinch when you stared at his face. You were an eager thing to please and he loved it. Sandor knew his fate was sealed when you kissed him at the doorway the morning after. You didn't have too, he told you but you simply told him. You wanted to and if it was alright to kiss him again. He leaned down to meet you lips and kissed you hard that it left you breathless as he walked out of the whore house. He came back a week later, he couldn't stay away from you for too long. You and your sweet cunt occupied his mind. When he asked for you, Little Finger’s second in command gave him a small frown.

“Half off. Some animal hit her.” Sandor gave her a face but nodded, giving her the payment.

He walks to your room and the door is half open. He looked inside of your room, you're sitting on the edge of the bed. You felt his presence and looked at the door. Rage engulfs him completely when he sees you with a black eye and the side of your face is bruised.

“Sandor.” The way you said his name made snap back into reality and he quickly walked away.

Sandor finished his bowl before you, he got up to grab the pitcher of ale. He notices it’s almost empty and gets up to refill. He sees you’re about to get up from your seat to do it.

“It’s fine.” He tells you softly, pushing you back down on your seat. “Finish eating.” He tells you and gives your shoulder a gentle squeeze.

He turns back to the table when he finishes and refills your cup as well before sitting back down on his seat with a sigh. Today was a hard day, he's tired on his feet. You noticed it when you finished your bowl. You tell him, you’ll heat his bath water. You're about to grab his bowl as well when he grabs your wrist, pulling you towards him gently. He knows he's strong and the last thing he ever wants is to hurt you. He can't hurt you, you're his. He'll die before hurting you. Taking the bowls from your hands, he places it back on the table.

Sitting on his lap, you wrap an arm around his neck. You're blushing at his gaze. Sandor staring at you was something you always blushed at. He stared intensely and it made you wet. No words need to be said because both of you knew what each other wanted. Cupping his cheek, you feel his scars under your touch. You liked the touch of it since the first time you laid with him and you still loved it even after he took you away from the whorehouse.

Sandor returned a few minutes later with a maester. He stood at the corner of the room while the maester looked at your eye and your face. You wondered how Sandor knew that Little Finger hadn't even offered to get you looked at. When the maester was gone, Sandor walked towards you.

“Get your belongings, girl. We are leaving.”

Sandor is the one to pull you in for a kiss. He tasted like ale and the stew, he was so warm as well. He tightens his hold around you as you open your mouth, his tongue slips inside of your mouth and you can't help but moan. His arm around you, his other hand goes between your legs. He groans as he pushes the hem of your dress up so he can touch your bare skin, your bare cunt. He groans once more in your mouth when he feels your lips, he spreads them with his fingers to touch your clit. You pull away from his lips to cry out as his fat thumb circles around it. He nips and kisses the side of your neck enjoying the whimpering coming from your mouth.

“I think about this cunt all the time. I smelt it all day on my mustache.” The thought of your nectar on him all day made you blush. He woke you up this morning at dawn with his head between your legs.

“Sandor.” You whispered his name. He looks at you, waiting for you to continue.

“Can I suck your cock? Please.” He nods as his eyes twinkled with excitement. You slide down from his lap and kneel between his legs. He stares down at you as your hands unlaced his trousers. Licking your lips when you pull out his cock. It feels heavy and hot in your hand. You bring your other hand to get a better hold of it.

Sandor starts to breathe heavily as you lick his head, humming as you tasted his salty pre-cum.

“Fuck.” He whispered under his breath when you spit on his cock, he felt a blob of spit run down his shaft. Your hands are jerking him as you start to suck him off. You moaned as his cock stretches your mouth wide as you try to take him all in.

Sandor brings a hand behind your head, grasping your hair as you start to gag on his fat cock.

“Shit-t. Yes, just like that.” He huffs out when feels your hand cupping his balls over the trouser. Sandor throws his head back when his cock reaches the back of your throat.

His praise only makes you suck him harder, your jaw starts to ache but it’s worth it. Seeing this giant man turn into putty because of your mouth was everything to you. Breathing through your nose you reach all the way to the end. Sandor moans when he feels your nose touch his pubic bone.

Sandor pulls you away and you gasp when you feel him sliding out. Tongue out, breathing harshly for air and eyes filled with tears, you look up at him.

“Come here.” He tells you and helps you up. You lean against him as he kisses you. He kisses your cheeks frantically as you try to catch your breath.

“Bed.” He nods at you as he stands up removing his clothes.

He feels like his nickname, a hound staring at you. His nose is tingling as he watches prey, you undress. You had looked over your shoulder and blushed when you met his face. He’s ready to pounce, ready to sink his teeth on the only good thing he has in his life.

“Everything okay?” He watched you walk over towards him when you were done. He wanted to purr when he felt your hand rub his stomach all the way up to his chest. You were biting your lips when you touched his thick dark hairs on his body. His chest was hard and you can feel the old heal scars splatter on his chest.

Sandor just nods. He doesn’t answer. Cat got his tongue when he feels you touch his cock with one hand. You let out a surprise yelp when he grabbed you by the chin making you look up at him as he kissed you. He kissed you so messy and passionately, he nips your lips and consume you. When your legs start to wobble from being on your tippy toes, you pull away from him. He gives a mad huff and pushes you gently on the bed.

You push yourself to the middle of the bed, opening your arms for him as he gets between your legs. You wince from the sudden movement. Sandor is a big man, his waist is wide. When he’s on you, he completely covers you under his frame.

“Fuck.” He moans when his lips start to attack your chest. He pinches your nipples making you cry out, he drowns you out with his kisses.

“Tell me? How? Now?” He says as he licks the valley of your breasts down to your navel making you squeal. He pulls away for you to move.

“Like the first time.” You mumbled turning around with your ass in the air. You earn yourself a slap on the ass, it makes you quiver. You let out a moan when he gets behind you, a heavy hand on your shoulder while the other rests on your hip.

“You came all over my cock the first time, remember?” You nod at him, shoving your face in the pillow so he didn’t have to see your blushing face.

“Milked me dry, girl. Took all my cum deep inside of you.” Sandor says as he brings his hand from your hip down to your ass. He squeezes it, pulling a cheek to the side to see your waiting holes. He’s not surprised when he feels your pussy dripping wet. He growls because of it and cups your mound possessively. A smirk grows on his face when he feels the soft curled hairs on your mound get wet as he spreads your slick all over your mound.

You cry his name out as he holds you, your wet cunt is throbbing for his cock.

“Please. Fuck me.” You beg him and his hands goes back to your hip making you arch your back. You feel the hair on his stomach touch your ass as he leans over you, you clenched the pillow under you as you feel the tip of his cock. It’s so hot and big, Sandor’s above you, giving you praises as he splits you open. He even gives your ass a rub when he slowly slides in.

You gasped when he slid himself to the hilt. You feel him in your tummy, that fat mushroom head is knocking on the door of your cervix and his heavy balls are resting on top of your clit. Sandor holds you down and takes his time so your sweet cunt is used to his size. He feels you clenching around him, he feels you under him moving your ass.

“Not even going to wait for me.” He tells you when he feels you throwing your ass back softly.

“It feels so good. I’m so full.” Sandor leans over you making you cry out by how deep he’s getting. He moves the pillow under your chin and he pushes your head to the mattress to the side.

You gripped the sheets under you as he began to move. Each thrusts you’re crying out, moaning as he fucks you from you behind. You feel your toes curl up when he begins to growl when he grabs your hips and uses you like his personal toy. Moving you up and down on his cock, his hand stays on your face, covering you completely.

He cages your head behind you as he ruts into you. You’re crying his name and Sandor is loving it because it’s his name you’re calling out, his name coming out those lips he loves so much. He whispers your name behind your head, he kisses the back of your head when he feels your tight cunt pulsing around him.

“Yes. Yes.” He says as he slips his hand between your legs. “You’re soaked.”

Sandor helps you get near, he’s about to cum. All day working, stomach filled with delicious stew and cock being milked by you. A perfect ending after a long day.

“Pleasee.” You cry and Sandor looks down at you, you’re looking over your shoulder and it’s the only time Sandor shows his soft side with you. You only know this side of him.

“I got you, my pretty girl. Cum for me. Let go.” He tells you before kissing your lips. His fingers rubbing your clit as he fucks you harder. Your mind is fuzzy, your filled to the brim and you can hear him moaning your name on top of you. You can hear skin slapping against one another, his heavy balls slapping your clit making you clench him even harder. He holds you in place when you start to cum on him, on his cock. He feels it, he even lets out a moan of his own. You start to whine, salivating on the sheets when Sandor comes undone. He holds your body, making sure he unloads his cum deep inside of you.

Sandor watches you as you sleep on his chest, your fingers were in the middle of running through the massive amount of hair on his chest before you knock out completely. He holds you in his arms as he’s deep in thought. He chuckles to himself thinking what would Gregor do if he ever found out how pussy whipped Sandor had become for you.

He was, he wouldn’t deny it, just count the dead bodies he buried a few miles away. They all had failed to find out what was Sandor’s secret.

#sandor clegane

641 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

"Marry me."

How I think marriage proposals would go for those characters.

Sandor Clegane:

"…Wanna get married ?" You asked as both you and Sandor were sleeping side by side in the forest. Sandor blinked—half asleep. He had back pain and a headache. He had hoped that the wine would help him to fall asleep quicker, as to not have to hear you say any other crazy thing or request for the day. But, of course. He was mistaken.

"Huh ?" When the information seemed to eventually settle in his brain, his whole face seemed a perfect depiction of confusion. He finally turned around and you could see in his eyes that he wasn’t exactly sober either. You decided this was the perfect moment to ask—since he would probably not even remember you asked the next morning. It gave you courage to ask again.

"Wanna get married ?" You repeated with a little more determination and this time, he answered.

"No."

"Ah."

"…"

"…You. Wanna get married ?" He asked this time—more because he was curious than awaiting an actual answer. But, you took your chance and answered truthfully.

"Sure."

He was momentarily surprised by your confidence before he huffed a laugh and wrapped an arm around you.

"…Fine. We’ll get married in the morning. Now, hush."

There was then a moment of silence before you both bursted out laughing. Just two drunks having the most normal conversation ever. You knew that by tomorrow, he would have surely forgotten all about tonight. But for now, you were satisfied with the knowledge that his subconscience hadn’t said no.

Oberyn Martell:

"Would you like to marry me ?" You asked Oberyn while he wad writing and whose lips curved slightly into a small smirk at the request. He was used to your rather straightforward nature. He liked it even. It made him laugh and enjoy your presence at parties. You were curious and completely unashamed or afraid of any consequences your requests or demands would bring. This is why he always caved. But, he could also be playful and this is why he answered with a small grin:

"No."

He was curious to see your reaction, but his smile slightly faltered when he saw the hurt in your eyes at his rejection. It was the first time he had seen you so upset and he immediately regretted his words.

"Oh. Okay then." You were embarrassed and turned around quickly to get back to your own private quarters. But he was by your side in an instant and wrapped his arms around you from behind.

"I was only kidding. I would LOVE to marry you, sweet peach."

He then kissed the back of your neck lovingly. You let out a sigh of relief as you leaned back against him.

"…Really ?"

He chuckled.

"Yes. Really."

He then kissed your temple and you stayed in his arms for a while before he started nuzzling the back of your neck.

"But what brought the subject, sweet peach ?"

You sighed before closing your eyes.

"…You’re the only one who truly enjoys my presence. You laugh and smile at me, even when my words are nonsense. So I thought…why not ask ?"

Oberyn seemed taken aback for a moment before his smile widened and he pressed your back further against him to kiss your shoulder and whisper in your ear.

"Let me tell you a little secret. I would marry you for your nonsense, my dear. Because your nonsense makes more sense to me than this whole world does…"

Tyrion Lannister:

"Do you want to marry me ?" You asked Tyrion one night and the man was so stunned that he spilled his cup of wine.

"What ?"

Tyrion was the most decent between all the Lannisters. He had helped you more than once and there was no doubt in your proposal. You would never find better husband.

"You heard me."

He stayed silent again and made you nervous. Would he refuse ? Would he tell you that he has already found someone ? Would he tell you that he has no interest in you ? But, he didn’t. He simply sighed.

"…Why ?"

Why ? You could tell him a thousand reasons why. Because he was one of the few good men you knew. Because you had no intention of marrying any other. Because you knew he could be gentle. Because he was funny. Because he could be brave. Because he had the heart of a true lion…but no. You wouldn’t tell him like that. Because even if you did, he wouldn’t believe you.

"Because I want to." You settled for instead and his eyes widened slightly in surprise before he smiled a little and shook his head.

"Why would you want to marry an imp ?"

"It is not an imp that I am marrying, but a prince." You retorted. You both stared at each other and his gaze softened as he started actually considering it for a moment.

"You would be miserable." You frowned in incomprehension at his words.

"Why ?" He glanced away for a second.

"Because I am not a good man."

You huffed a bitter laugh at his words.

"Haven’t you heard ? There are no good man left, my prince."

Tyrion seemed taken aback, but he couldn’t deny the truth behind your words and drank a little of his wine.

"Tell me, Tyrion. If I was to become your wife/husband. Would you hit me ? Would you abuse me ? Would you lie to me ?"

He shook his head with a small smile. No. He wouldn’t. You smiled back and Tyrion finally nodded understandingly. It wasn’t about love. It wasn’t about finding a good man. It was always about finding the one who wouldn’t hurt you…And hence, he understood and maybe…maybe it wouldn’t be so bad to have a wife/husband ?

Jaime Lannister:

"Jaime…" You sat down next to him at the feast prepared for the Lannisters and even though you could feel Cersei glaring daggers at you—you grabbed his hand. He didn’t react, but you could feel his fingers slightly curving to hold yours.

"Hello, buttercup." He finally greeted you in a whisper and you couldn’t help but smile weakly. You knew of his heart and his loyalty to his sister. It wasn’t really your business to interfere, but you didn’t like how Cersei was treating him. And, you also knew that his heart could maybe be won over.

So, you did the most nonsense ever and challenged him. You stood up and faced him—catching the attention of everyone in the room as you declared loudly.

"Jaime Lannister. I challenge you to an arm wrestling competition !"

That ought to have gained his attention as his eyes finally met yours and what he found in there made his eyes widen in surprise. You were determined and even though he was a knight—you didn’t seem scared of losing. He tried to laugh and wave it off as a mere joke—but you didn’t back down and even provoked him.

"Are you perhaps not a lion ? But a scared chicken ?"

That oughta do it. He was up before you could even pronounce another word and the fury in his eyes made you smile. He had taken the bait.

"If I win, you must agree to one single demand of my choice without knowing what it is !"

"And if I win ?" He quickly shot back and you bit back a laugh.

"Then I will give you whatever you want."

In a matter of minutes, everything was settled and you were both in position. Everyone assumed you were mad or had consumed too much wine to challenge Jaime Lannister—but it couldn’t be further from the truth. You had planned it carefully. You had trained and trained your body and your mind. You had worn big sleeves to hide the muscles hidden underneath. This could be the most important challenge of your life and you wanted to win. More than anything.

The moment Jaime gripped your hand, his eyes stared straight at you as he realised what you had done. This was not the strength of the Y/N he was accustomed to…but it was too late to stop and in a matter of seconds—Jaime Lannister was on the floor.

Everyone was stunned.

But, you only gracefully stood up from your seat and looked down at him before smirking.

"…I will be waiting for that marriage proposal." And with that, you were out of the room—leaving a very confused Jaime and a very angry Cersei behind. But, you knew that a lion never backed down from his word. And Jaime would be yours.

Petyr Baelish (Littlefinger) :

"Marry me." Littlefinger didn’t even seem surprised by you sudden demand. Everyone knew that your father wished to marry you off to Ramsay Bolton. And even though Littlefinger wasn’t sure why you would come to him with such a request, he didn’t show it.

He didn’t even look up as he simply asked.

"Why ?"

You huffed a bitter laugh. The man would sell mother and father for a throne. And he dared to ask why ?

"Does it matter ?"

He licked his thumb to turn the page of the book he was reading nonchalantly, even though you knew that he was secretly weighing the pros and cons of such an alliance.

"Depends. What will it bring me ?"

You looked away.

"Don’t pretend not to realise how advantageous it would be for you to be a part of the Lannister family. You’d have an easy access to the iron throne."

He hummed and pretended to think about it. It was true marrying you would be a fast way to get access to all the nice advantages of being a part of the so-called prestigious Lannister family. But, it had its own set of disadvantages to consider. He would become more than just a little man in the shadows that no one would deem worthy of being a threat, he would become a lion. A black lion.

"…Tell me why you would lower yourself to such an alliance with me. Surely, there would be one handsome young man who would say yes to such a proposal without even blinking. Why go to me, princess/prince ?"

You hesitated before sighing in defeat.

"…Because if I am to marry a snake, better be one I know than one chosen by Tywin Lannister."

At that, Petyr finally dignified you with a glance. You held his gaze and after a few seconds, he smiled.

"Very well, my beauty. Lead the snake to the lion’s den then."

Sansa Stark:

You and Sansa had been longtime allies and friends. You were maybe the only friend she had ever had after the almost complete destruction of House Stark. You had developed feeling for her over time and knew that asking her for her hand wouldn’t be easy—but you were willing to try.

"Please, Sansa of House Stark." You knelt on one knee before her with a rose in your hand and the other hand on your heart. "Would you marry me ?"

Sansa was surprised by the proposal. She had married twice and both marriages weren’t a success. She had lived through nightmares and pain out of such a dream as marriage. She used to want to get married with someone she loved so badly, but not anymore.

"My heart is not so easily won by a rose and pretty words anymore." She replied instead—thinking that she would succeed in breaking your resolve. But, she was mistaken.

"I know. I know that I may never be worthy of even your eyes on me. But…I am a fool, and my heart beats for you. And if you want it ? Then it’s yours. And even if you don’t want it. Let me fight for you. And prove my loyalty to the most beautiful and strong lady the North has ever seen." You pleaded and Sansa was rendered speechless.

She looked into your eyes and saw only love and adoration. She then glanced down at the rose you offered her and after a moment of hesitation, she finally took it.

"…You may try to win my heart, Y/N. But, I cannot promise you success."

You smiled and shook your head.

"Just having you acknowledge my feelings is enough for hope to enter my heart."

Sansa smiled back.

Maybe…romance wasn’t utterly dead.

Jon Snow: (Before the tragedy 😭)

"Marry me." It was said with such confidence that Jon himself was stunned as he looked up at you with widened eyes.

"What ?"

"You heard me."

There was a moment of silence before Jon smiled and he suddenly pulled you into his arms. There was no yes or no. Just a moment of pure euphoria as he couldn’t stop laughing as he buried his face in your chest. He was so happy, he forgot to form words.

When he was finally calm once more, he kissed you passionately.

"Yes. Yes. Yes, I will."

You both started laughing together and Jon even fell back on the snow as you held him tightly.

Daenerys:

"Marry me." You demanded and Daenerys looked back at you. She didn’t seem surprised or even mildly confused by the demand. She knew of your feelings for her—and she was more than happy to reciprocate.

But, marriage ?

Marriage meant boundaries. Marriage meant attachment. Marriage meant she would have to think about you and a possible future where she wasn’t all powerful.

She sighed before stroking your cheek and offering you an apologetic smile.

"My dear Y/N…If only I could, do not believe for a second that I would say no. But, as the future queen of the Seven Kingdoms…I cannot."

You closed your eyes and a few tears rolled down your cheeks. You had expected such an answer of course, but still…your heart ached.

"I…understand." You forced yourself to say and Daenerys nodded. She was a queen. A khaleesi. And you were just…human.

Ser Jorah:

"Please. Marry me." Ser Jorah was stunned at the unexpected request and turned towards you with widened eyes. He was about to answer when you quickly added.

"Love me. Hate me. I want you and you want her. But, I am not asking for your love. But for your protection, kind ser Jorah." He closes his mouth and seemed to think about it for a moment. He knew that you were a young lady/man who had left her/his family to join Daenerys. He had no idea you held such feelings for him…

"You can have my protection, but why go to such lengths to have it ?" He finally asked and you sighed before taking his hand in yours.

"Because it is not only physical protection I seek." You then laid his hand flat upon your heart and Ser Jorah seemed taken aback once more. He looked at you and you didn’t shy away from his gaze.

You knew Ser Jorah was honourable and even if he would never return your feelings, he would make a far greater husband than anyone you ever knew. He would respect you and your heart. And that was more than you could ever wish for…

Ser Jorah accepted.

After all, it was only his name that you were going to bear and his sword that would protect you. You would call him husband, but only in name.

#game of thrones

773 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

Farmer! Sandor Clegane Headcanon

don't own these pics

Summary: Just a few headcanon of Sandor Clegane as a farmer.

A/N: Thinking about this man as a farmer has me down on my knees. Comment and like below, maybe I can do next farmer Sandor meeting reader. Enjoy-L || Border Credit: @cafekitsune

Warning: SFW, sad childhood, Sandor being himself, dog dad,

Farmer!Sandor always knew he wanted to be a farmer from a young age. He liked working with his hands and moving around. He never wanted a desk job, he couldn't imagine his 6 '6 self sitting on a small computer chair for nine hours a day, five days a week. He had low patience dealing with idiot people, so retail was out of the question, any job that required dealing with people was a no. So far the only thing talking back to him were the animals on the farm and he was content with that.

Farmer!Sandor isn't much of a people person but he will sometimes invite Tormund, a worker from the market he goes to for groceries once in a while over to watch the game or just for a beer. Sandor only does it because Tormund doesn't shut up about coming over. After two six-packs, Tormund isn't so bad to be around and he doesn’t ask him about his scars.

Farmer!Sandor gets up right before the rooster crow at dawn. He likes to watch the sunrise while drinking black coffee. He nibbles on some toast or some corn muffins. On Sunday, he makes a big breakfast meal since it's the only day he rest. Eggs, bacon sometimes with ham and grits.

Farmer!Sandor wears a white beater shirt and his dark coarse chest hair peeks out. It shows off his broad shoulders and his muscular arms, it was all thanks to the hard manual labor he does. He ties his long hair with a black hair band, he keeps a spare around his wrist. He wears old blue jeans that hang low on his hips. Sometimes he wears a flannel shirt, when it gets too hot, he takes it off and wraps it around his hips. He wears these heavy size 12 boots with rubber outsoles on them.

Farmer!Sandor sweats alot after a long day of work. He uses the flannel to wipe the sweat off his forehead, neck and tone arms. He showers immediately after walking into the house. He leaves the boots outside and goes into the shower to clean the dirt and sweat off of his body. He makes sure he cleans himself, rubbing the body wash thoroughly through his chest hair and his long hair.

Farmer!Sandor walks out of the shower and looks at himself in the mirror. His burn scars are a bit red from being out in the sun all day. He reminds himself for tomorrow to wear his hat. He grabs face cream from the medicine cabinet to help with the redness. Some days Sandor can't stand the sight of him, that's why he liked being alone in his farmhouse. He dislikes the stares and pointing he got when going into town.

Farmer!Sandor still has issues about his face, it has gotten much better after going to the doctors. He has even done surgery for his hair to grow a bit, he usually combs his hair over to cover the slightly bald spot. He applies oils on his beard regularly and it helped his beard grow a bit back. His right brow has grown a bit as well, but the burn scars on his cheek and ear are still very visible.

Farmer!Sandor dresses comfy to get started on dinner. He walks into the kitchen and turns on the radio or sometimes the tv. He's listening to the news while cutting some veggies he has grown from his garden in the backyard. He usually grills his steak in the backyard when he's not tired. Opening a beer, he sits down and eats in silence. Sometimes he eats in front of the tv and watches whatever is playing. He's not picky on what to watch on tv.

Farmer!Sandor was on the field the next day on the tractor when he heard barking. He turns it off and looks over his shoulders to see it was a dog a few feet away from him. There isn't usually strays around, he makes sure of it since he has some chickens and pigs. He walks towards the dog, its shaggy fur is white and gray. Its ears are floppy and its tongue is hanging out as it pants.

“You alright, pup?” He asked, not really expecting it to answer but to his surprise. It barks at him, making him smile.

He carefully stretches his hand out when he notices it wasn't going to bite. He pats its head and even scratches behind its ears. Asking if it wants to eat, the dog’s tail starts wagging like crazy. Sandor decides he’ll have lunch early that day. He smiles once more when he notices it’s following him all the way to the house. He sits outside on the porch swing as he eats his sandwich and drinks a cold glass of ice tea. He watches the dog eat the leftover steak from dinner last night.

Farmer!Sandor decides to keep the dog after it kept following him everywhere for the past week. When he finds out it’s a girl, he decides to name it after his little sister, Ellie. The dog didn’t seem to mind, it followed him whenever he said it. He liked having company, it was less lonely when he wasn’t working. He lets Ellie sleep on the foot of his bed.

Farmer!Sandor doesn't smoke that much, he really only does it when he has a rough day. He’s sitting on the porch swing with a beer in one hand and the cigarette in the other. Since he’s alone, he does alot of thinking as he watches the sunset. He thinks about his life before he started to farm. He has been thinking about his little sister lately since the dog came around. His little sister was his best friend when he was younger. He had told her about his dream of having a farm. He smiles to himself as he remembers her telling him that he had to have horses for her to ride. He promised her that he would when he was a kid he had even promised her that he would have two horses so they could ride together.

Farmer!Sandor didn't have a good childhood, his parents were never around and his older brother was a bully. His older brother was the one to burn him when he was a kid. While holding his face on the hot coals, his little sister tried to help him. She hit the older brother on the back with her tiny fist. Furious that she was hitting him, he had smacked her. He hit her so hard that she fell back and slammed her head on the coffee table. Ellie lost a lot of blood on the way to the hospital and did not survive. His older brother was 18 at the time and was sentenced to prison. Parents couldn't handle it and left Sandor, who was placed in foster care.

Farmer!Sandor gets brought back to reality when he feels Ellie rubbing her head against his knee. He threw the cigarette out and placed the beer on the small table near him. He pats the seat next to him and makes sure that the swing doesn't move as Ellie jumps up next to him. He leans back as she rests her head on his lap. Sandor pats her head softly as he looks over across the field and stares at the half built stable he was building, he was going to get those horses and complete his promise to his sister.

#sandor clegane

135 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

Gentle

Sandor Clegane x Plus size!reader

Word Count: 2737 words

Warnings: none

Summary: Ned Stark’s eldest daughter finding herself interested by the King’s loyal protector, and even more disenchanted by how he’s treated

—————————————————————————————————

The King’s arrival in Winterfell wasn’t of much interest to you, if you were being honest.

Of course you understood that it was a great honor and that his Grace was very important to your father, but outside of that, you had no real reason to pay the caravan much mind as it moved through the streets of Winterfell.

Had it not been for the pretense of duty and honor, and more severely, the pressure of your mother’s wrath, you truly believed you would have skipped the entire affair.

You weren’t the object of their visit, after all.

As the eldest daughter of Lord Eddard Stark, you were much too old to be of much interest to the young Prince compared to your sisters, and the King only came to Winterfell with your Aunt Lyanna on the mind.

Really, you weren’t sure why you needed to attend.

Until, you found yourself staring down the traveling party of the King’s guard, and the striking presence of the man they called “the Hound”

You had heard stories of the man over the years, and you knew where the title had come from, but never could you have imagined the man before you now and that man were one in the same. He hardly struck you as some ravenous monster, even then.

…and as the days went by, you found your opinion unchanged.

You existed in Winterfell simply, a privilege afforded you by your father’s title and the love the families of the North had for the Starks.

For the most part, you did what you wanted and didn’t call too much attention to yourself, content to read on the sidelines and follow after your siblings as they grew into their own. That meant that you escaped a lot of the formalities of nobility, as no one really needed too much of your attention.

If they were looking for a Stark to talk to, you were always fairly low on the list and you liked it that way, especially given all the excitement in Winterfall over the past few days.

With Sansa entertaining the Prince, your father entertaining the King and Queen, and the charms of the North keeping the guard away, you finally had a moment to yourself which only meant one thing. You could finally finish your book.

It was all set, just as you wanted it.

The weather had yet to get so bitter cold that you couldn’t stand to be out, so you grabbed a blanket and set it in the clearing near the market, under a big tree. The septa’s rarely bothered you these days, so you should be able to get some peace and quiet.

Not that you got too far before something else caught your eye.

You had only been reading your book for a short time when you heard the familiar sing-songy tone of your sister’s voice, followed unsurprisingly by the nasally pitch of Prince Joffrey.

They were to be married following this trip, and you knew she was excited. You could tell by the way she skipped lightly as she walked, and how she hung on his every word.

You had never been in love yourself, but you had to imagine that was what it looked like. Perhaps that was why you found yourself watching them as they walked, or maybe it had more to do with the Hound, loyal as always, who was trailing behind them steadily.

He was an interesting man, you’d decided.

Even as he walked, he studied the world around him as if he wasn’t a part of it, rather that he was peering in at it from the outside. You felt that you could relate, in some way, as you had always been that way.

They’d chastised you for being a dreamer as a girl. The Septa would take your books and keep them from you, your mother would beg you to engage in your duties as a lady and even Robb and Theon teased you.

Your head was always far away and even now, you had managed to keep it that way. While other women your age married and had heirs for unimpressive Lords, you remained in your father’s homeland.

A place where you could keep your books and your dreams, without having to endure the ugliness.

Not that ugliness was really the problem in the first place.

You were certain that some found the Hound ugly in all his violence and impropriety, but you couldn’t dare count yourself among them. Even now, as you stared at him over your bound paper novel, you saw nothing short of a dream like all the others.

It wasn’t even something you could truly understand, if you had any desire to try. There was just a softness to him, a quiet contemplation that made you feel as if no harm would ever come to you.

That wasn’t a feeling you’d known before now, as that was one of the things the North had never really had. Your father and brothers would rather die than let something or someone hurt you, you knew that, but it wasn’t so simple.

The comfort his presence held went beyond any physical threat or danger, it was almost warm.

Not that you would have ever ventured to admit it.

After all, you had never even spoken to the man and if you tried to explain the way you were feeling to anyone, they would surely have you committed. The hound was a lot of things, but none would have called him warm.

None outside of you that was.

You continued your staring for quite some time, only occasionally looking away from the sight before you to mindlessly turn the page in your book. You imagined you may have sat there all evening if you remained uninterrupted.

However, when your attention returned to the imposing form of the King’s dog across the way to find him already looking at you, the illusion fell away entirely.

Surely he thought you were demented.

In the entire time he and the King’s guard had been in Winterfell, you had yet to speak a word to a one of them but that didn’t mean he was unfamiliar with you. Every time he turned around, he found you sitting somewhere over his shoulder, that same book perched in your lap.

Anyone else may have just brushed you off, assuming you were a bit out there as your family always had, but Sandor couldn’t quite do that.

After all, he had grown used to the weary glances and fearful whispers between people as he passed, but no one had ever paid him so much mind as you seemed to be.

Naturally he was curious.

No one had voluntarily spent that much time looking at him in all his life, and he needed to know what it was about you that was different.

You tensed the moment you noticed his attention, not daring to look away from the weathered pages beneath your fingers, not when you heard him nearing where you sat and certainly not when he stopped at your side.

Neither of you spoke, and you weren’t even sure if you drew a single breath, but he certainly did as he waited. Waited for what he wasn’t sure, but it just seemed to be the thing to do.

As if you would somehow explain yourself if he stood in your presence long enough.

Though, after a long moment passed between you without so much as a glance from you, he decided to just end the torment for you both.

There would be no sense in just standing here all evening.

“Why do you stare so much?” he wondered aloud, his voice just as gruff as it always was, though you caught something else hidden there too. Just beneath the surface, hiding beneath the walls he’d built hugh within himself.

It almost sounded like a sort of nervousness, though you would have imagined him incapable of something so common.

You didn’t answer at first.

Whether it was due to the humiliation of being caught that held your tongue or the nerves of facing down such an imposing man on your own, he wasn’t sure. All Sandor knew for sure was that this was one of the strangest interactions he’d ever had.

If only he knew.

The real reason for your silence wasn’t some twisted interest or shame but because there was no real answer at all. At least not one you’d confidently admit while those brown eyes had you locked in a stare.

You hadn’t meant it to be disrespectful, of course, because the nature of your admiration couldn’t be farther from distaste. However, to a man like Sandor, that was exactly what it looked like.

…What it felt like.

Naturally, after a life of rejection, Sandor assumed that your staring was like that of every else when they looked at him. He assumed you were disgusted by him, and his grotesque face, or perhaps that you were afraid.

He hoped you weren’t afraid.

In any case, he never could have imagined that you would answer him in the way you did, even if it took you a moment to summon the courage to string any words together at all.

“I suppose I’m interested in you” you decided finally, twisting your face up slightly at the way that must have sounded.

It wasn’t quite right, of course, though it wasn’t entirely wrong either.

You were interested in him, but that seemed too simply a phrasing, like all the gravity and sentiment was missing even still.

Sandor only grunted in reply after a brief pause, his gaze drifting across the market, watching as the surrounding northerners studied your interaction, only to drop their eyes when they met his.

They all feared him, and they were right too, because they understood what he was and what he was capable of. Though, maybe that was another thing that you had done since he arrived that was unique to you.

Never once had you looked away from him.

You had never shrunk away or grimaced as they did, even at a time like this when anyone else would have run for the hills. It was certainly new, even he couldn’t be so stubborn as to ignore that.

“What’s so interesting about me?” he wondered, not daring to move closer or join you as you sat, but not moving further away either. Even though it felt wrong to speak freely with an unmarried noble woman like you, it really wasn’t.

You certainly didn’t think so, and you believed that anyone else would agree.

If anything, you were simply making conversation while he did his duty, watching over the Prince and his future bride.

Now, it was your turn to pause, regarding the words on the page only a moment more before you closed it, and discarded it in the snowy grass.

“We don’t have men like you here,” you allowed, considering his imposing frame as he stood above you.

Though you had only seen him from afar until now, at his impressive height and with your current low position, Sandor seemed even larger than he had before. Still, you couldn’t find it in yourself to be frightened by him, which had to have been because he wasn’t frightening in the first place.

The rest of the realm may have treated him like a monster but you hardly believed that made him one.

You could tell in the way he glanced down at you, surprise painting his features, that he wanted to argue with you but he faltered, because he didn’t understand. He wanted to tell you that there were violent men everywhere, and that most were just better at hiding it, but somehow, he knew that wasn’t what you meant.

No matter how diluted that may have made you seem in the moment.

“Gentle,” you clarified, watching as his mind tried to pin down exactly what you were trying to say, because the most obvious answer just wasn’t possible. “Men here are all the same. They’re either ruthless fighters or cowards and fools. On rare occasions, they may be both but neither are gentle as you are”

That was it.

There were the words you had been trying to find before, but it still didn’t feel as if he understood, or perhaps he just didn’t feel as if you had any right to be the one saying them.

After all, you had only ever been in the North and you hardly knew anything about him, or many other men for that matter. What real ground did you have to stand on when it came to this?

“Trust me little girl, there’s nothing gentle about a man like me” he scoffed, washing away any tenderness you’d been feeling in a moment.

Perhaps he was right, but you didn’t think so.

While it was true that there were no other men like him in the North, you had seen your fair share of guarded men hiding from the truth about themselves. Normally they were trying to convince themself that they were braver than they were, or stronger, but it looked the same.

It made them look small.

“It’s in your eyes. You think I can’t see it because you don’t, but it’s there. It’s the same reason you’re still having this conversation with me, even though the Prince snuck off with Sansa” you countered, gesturing to the missing space they’d previously occupied through the pass.

If he’d truly been keeping an eye on them, and nothing more, he wouldn’t have let them out of his sight.

“Maybe I just want to know what’s wrong with you? After all, I thought the future Lady of Winterfell would be a bit more sociable” he argued, almost poking fun at you in a way you hadn’t seen coming.

Which was a welcome break in that untouchable armor of his.

“I am hardly the future Lady of Winterfell. That title will belong to the wife of my brother Robb,” you informed, gathering your skirts to rise to your feet, only to find his hand outstretched to you, a further invitation behind the curtain.

You took it as gracefully as you could and rose to your full height, though you remained entirely dwarfed by the large man at your side.

“And I have never really taken to being sociable, that’s true. It’s my mother’s greatest upset” you teased, straightening out your gown and taking in the full sight of the Hound in all his glory.

He looked small, if that was even physically possible, as you admired him with those eyes of yours. If you thought his gaze was pointed, you had no idea how he felt beneath the heavy weight of your own.

“You’re a strange little thing, aren’t you?” he grumbled, his question hanging in the air untouched for a moment as you studied him, no longer caring how strange it may have looked to anyone else.

You had been right.

He was anything but ugly up close, and it was a tragedy that so few got to gaze upon him in this manner.

“I suppose. Perhaps that’s why I remain unmarried” you suggested, subconsciously hinting at what you knew to be your own greatest flaw, at least in the eyes of your people and your house.

At the very least, the Hound had been able to make something of himself outside of being a husband or son. He could be a warrior, and he was, one of the most fearsome warriors you’d ever seen.

As a woman, you had never been afforded that kind of privilege and you never would. As far as your mother was concerned, you would live and die a spinster, and there was little you could do to change that.

“Perhaps. Or maybe this place really is full of cowards and fools, as you said” he muttered, sparing you one more heady glance before turning his back to you, his attention fully on the clearing ahead.

That was it.

In all the days you’d been admiring him and making a desperate attempt to understand exactly what lay beneath that shell of his, that was all he had for you.

…and you couldn’t have been happier, because for the first time in a long time, you found yourself looking forward to what the days ahead would hold.

#sandor clegane

565 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

do you guys think kakuzu's ever really hard on himself bc of his time in the waterfall and then hidan just unknowingly is himself

bonus under the cut

#kakuhida

497 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Note

Now your blog only needs Kakuzu and his eternal fight with his parent-in-law Jashin. Like, if Jashin wanted, they could just wipe out all Akatsuki and earth (no plot armor could save them, they would just uno reserve any move, yes, even plot armor sharingan) but they're just there trying to make Hidan divorce that rude money obsessed heathen and find someone better.

Kakuzu is too prideful to admit that they're god (and calls them Hidan's crazy relative instead) even when it's pretty oblivious. He goes just farther down in Jashin's black list that it's funny.

Hidan is pretty torn since Jashin is his god and their word is an order, but he doesn't want a new hubby, but does Kakuzu care about him that much or is it the money he has wasted on Hidan? (He does care, he keeps killing potential love rivals that Jashin brings)

I … truly like your take on this. I would never have thought to frame Lord Jashin as Hidan’s father-figure but it kinda makes sense 🤔

Also, I immediately pictured a scene of the three of them eating dinner. Hidan uncharacteristically flustered because he’s worn himself ragged trying to please his literal God and trying to please Kakuzu. And he excuses himself to go and get the dessert.

And Jashin makes some kind of unsubtle comment about how HE will always be more important to Hidan than some mortal like Kakuzu would ever be. And Kakuzu takes a page right out of Hidan’s playbook and responds, completely deadpan, with something like “You may be his God but I’M the one he calls Daddy every night.”

#kakuhida

36 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

*Kakuzu and Hidan return to the hideout after a mission; Kakuzu goes straight to his room, and after a while, Hidan follows him*

Hidan: Oi, ‘Kuzu … is something wrong?

Kakuzu, sitting on his bed quietly counting out a stack of money: No. All is well.

Hidan: *pauses, then moves to stand at the edge of the bed* You’re lying to me, fucker. When ya lie to me ya don’t let me see your eyes.

Kakuzu: In case you’re somehow not seeing what’s in front of your eyes, I’m engaged in something else at the moment, and it requires my full attention.

Hidan: Oh, gimme a fuckin’ break, man. You could count that shit blindfolded. Seriously, what’s up your ass today? You’ve been acting weird since this morning.

Kakuzu: I doubt that you’d understand, brat.

Hidan: I wish you’d stop treating me like some dipshit kid, old bastard. Me and you … we’re not just fucking, right? We … we got something else goin’ on, right?

Kakuzu, quietly: Yes, we do.

Hidan: Okay then, you need to start telling me when things are wrong instead of finger-fucking your money.

Kakuzu: *sighs, and scoops up the bills on the bed, putting them on the dresser before patting the spot where they had been* Shut that door, and then come and sit here, please.

*Hidan does as asked and sits by Kakuzu*

Hidan: Well?

Kakuzu: *reaches out with both strong arms and pulls Hidan against his chest, resting his chin in Hidan’s hair*

Hidan, blushing: O-oi! What the hell?!

Kakuzu: Hidan. I … I don’t think I can do this much longer …

Hidan: Well then let go of me, weirdo!

Kakuzu: Not that! I mean … this whole thing. Being in the Akatsuki. The missions, the fighting, the constant traveling and injuries and cheap food and sleeping outside in all kinds of weather … I just can’t anymore.

Hidan: … have you said any of this to Leader?

Kakuzu: Tsk; of course not! He’d kill me for sure!

Hidan:

Hidan: If you left the Akatsuki, what would you do? Where would you go?

Kakuzu: With luck, drop off the face of the earth. Find a secluded woods somewhere, build a nice little cabin. Hunt, fish, trap furs. Grow things, maybe. But … I can’t.

Hidan: Why?

Kakuzu: Hidan. As you said earlier, the situation between us involves more than our sexual relationship. In my planning I need to take you into consideration. As absurd as I think they are, you’ve made it clear that you need your Jashin rituals, and the killings, in order to survive. More than that, in order for you to be happy. I can’t uproot you away from something that provides you with a steady stream of —

Hidan: ‘Kuzu. You’ve got to be the biggest dumbest fucker of all time. You realize that I actually need YOU more than any of that shit?

Kakuzu: You do?

Hidan: Yeah, I do. What if we did this thing, and went and made a home for ourselves? Had some little fuckers and all that? It’s not like I still couldn’t find people to sacrifice or you couldn’t still be hunting bounties, right? We’d just have to be careful, and it’s not like we ain’t already used to being careful and shit, so we —

Kakuzu: *pulls Hidan into a deep kiss*

Kakuzu: Hearing you say “we” … makes me feel better than anything in this world. I love you, Hidan.

Hidan, face on fire: L-love you too, you old sap. Now what are we gonna do?

Kakuzu: We have plenty of time to think about it. And at any rate, I know how we can solve at least one of our problems…

*picks out a few large bills from the stack he’d been counting*

Kakuzu: Let’s go out to eat, get some real food for once, eh?

Hidan: … you mean meat?

Kakuzu: Yes, all the bloody meat you want. And bread that doesn’t taste like sawdust, and potatoes …

Hidan: Dessert too?!

Kakuzu: *smiles* Don’t push it, brat.

#kakuhida

52 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

Scenes or Comic Panels I Would Draw If I Could Draw BC Some Of My Chatpost Ideas I See Better As Pictures Not Words, Part Three.

Deidara and Hidan noticing that Zetsu seems really down in the winter months, so they help him by stealing him a heat-lamp and helping him to prune himself by picking off his yellow or dead leaves and giving him little bags of premium fertilizer (and Zetsu eating from the bags with a spoon like ice cream).

After sex, Nagato and Konan laying in bed together. Konan resting on top of Nagato, him with his hands on her hips. Him making a comment that having her on top of him feels like a nice, warm weighted blanket. Konan only hears "weight" and says "So ... you're saying I'm fat?" and before he can think of a non-offensive answer she gets up and storms out of the room. Hidan happened to hear it and tells the others and the next day all of them make pointed jokes about things being heavy when Nagato is around. He eventually Shinra Tensei's all of them. Konan laughs so hard she kisses him and forgives him.

Deidara and Sasori at an art museum. Run into Itachi and Kisame there. Kisame comments how sweet the two of them look holding hands. Sasori tells them that there's nothing romantic about it; if he doesn't keep hold of at least one of Deidara's hands he's going to reach into his pocket and bring out his matches and light the paintings on fire to make them more "artistic".

Hidan and Deidara having a chicken wing eating contest. Hidan pretends to choke on a bone to fake Deidara out but Deidara isn't buying it. Kakuzu comes into the room and comments something like " If you can handle mine, there's no reason you should be choking on THAT tiny bone, Hidan." Deidara starts choking for real.

Kisame telling Konan how to learned to use a gentle touch with Itachi by practicing holding cats first. Cuts back and forth between showing Kisame holding cats that are clawing and scratching him when annoyed, to Itachi kicking and biting at him when he's annoyed. Kisame telling Konan that Itachi is more like a cat than she'd think. Itachi then comes into the room and circles the fridge several times and Kisame tells him that No, he already had his dinner, and Itachi puffs up and hisses at him, and Kisame takes a little spray bottle from his pocket and squirts Itachi's nose with it.

Obito and Deidara’s son at school, say kindergarten, and the teacher calls in the parents for a meeting. She tells the two that their son has been drawing “questionable” things during art class. Shows them the pictures and it’s a whole series of Obito and Deidara “playing leapfrog” with each other. Obito is hella embarrassed and keeps apologizing and saying they’ll have a talk with the kid and get a lock for their bedroom door. But Deidara has tears in his eyes and is going “Look at what TALENT my son has, hm!” and asking if he can take the pictures home to hang on the fridge and the teacher and Obito are just staring at him like 😐

Young adults Kakashi and Obito having a “date night” in Obito’s room. Awkwardly flirting all night. But every time one of them do much as leans in for a kiss, Obito’s “grandpa” Madara comes into the room. First to ask if Obito finished his chores. Then to bring in a tray of milk and cookies. THEN he sends little Sasuke in the room to ask annoying questions, and Sasuke is accompanied by his “special friend” Naruto who’s excited to see his Sensei and each boy is too oblivious to realize that they’re interrupting obkk’s date until Itachi finally comes back from a mission and drags them out. And finally, finally when the two think they’re free, they start making out, but right in the middle of it Madara calls out from down the hallway that it’s time for Obito to give him his bath. Kakashi (not for the first time) asks Obito why he doesn’t just move out of his clan’s home and get one of the Jonin apartments in the city like Kakashi himself has. Obito starts to reply that it’s not so bad when Madara calls out again bring the heavy duty toenail clippers because he’s got some “monsters” growing on his feet. And Obito looks at Kakashi and asks how much the rents are in the Jonin apartments.

#akatsuki

34 notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

#captain john price

11K notes · View notes

heyangstlover · 4 months

Text

Cuteeeeee

Say the Right Thing | Farah Karim x m!reader

『••✎••』

↳ ❝ “Just one chance, that’s all I ask for” Man, I love that prompt, I'm thinking of a scenario for Farah Karim. Now the reader like her a lot, but he always say the wrong thing at the wrong time everytime they met and apparently he can't keep his sarcastic mouth shut that make his attempt to ask her out failed so many times. Damn, feel like it's too specific if you didn't like the idea, feel free to just erase my ask ❞

: ̗̀➛ You just can't seem to say the right thing when trying to ask Farah out.

: ̗̀➛ swearing

↳ @mockerycrow

•───────────────★•♛•★──────────────•

You and Farah had been friends for as long as you could remember; neither of you quite sure if you met during primary or secondary school or even before that, but what you did know was that you loved her deeply.

The sight of her smile always took your breath away, always made your knees weak and your palms sweat as your heart pounded and felt like it was about to burst from your chest and flop to the floor; every time she wore her dark purple hijab, you could have screamed.

The colour always looked so good on her, it always brought out the beauty in her dark brown eyes and made it hard to concentrate on anything else, especially when she laughed at your jokes.

You couldn’t imagine a different life, if you were honest; a life without Farah didn’t seem as if it was worth living, you would have been completely lost without her.

She meant everything to you, and you were always so completely devoted to her; you would do anything for her, even given your life for the smallest chance that she wouldn’t get so much as a paper cut.

You loved being near her, sitting beside her and scrolling through your phone as she read one of her books; you liked those days with her, sitting in complete silence together and never paying attention to each other, but knowing that she was still there.

You loved her, well and truly, and you knew that you should have asked for her hand; you knew that you should have asked her to be your girlfriend, but you just couldn’t quite get the words out properly enough, and if there was anything you didn’t want to do, it was say the wrong fucking thing like you usually did.

The first time you tried to ask her out, she had rendered you speechless the second she met your gaze.

After dealing with her recruits, Farah had been covered in sweat, her skin glittering in the midday sun, and although you tried, you kept opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water.

“You’re sweating,” you said. “You’d look better if you showered.”

Farah gave you a quizzical look, furrowing her brows as she tilted her head to the side slightly. “Huh?”

“I didn’t mean it like that,” you muttered, shaking your head. “I meant… ah, fuck.”

She laughed, shaking her head fondly before wandering off to check with her men about how they were doing; you could only sigh as you cursed yourself for being such an idiot.

Farah wasn’t an idiot, of course she knew what you were doing, and every time you failed to ask her out and to say the right thing, she could hardly hold back her laughter; it was cute to see you so flustered and fumbling over your words so much, and she thought it was quite funny, too.

The fact that most of it sounded snarky and sarcastic only helped, and although she did feel a little bad for not putting you out of your misery, she thought it was charming nonetheless.

You were so head over heels that you could hardly even speak when you were near her; it was charming, and it made her laugh. Farah always loved men who could make her laugh. You, especially.

She had always had a soft spot for you, and although she hadn’t expected you to try and ask her out, she couldn’t say she was shocked; there had always been something between the two of you.

She didn’t just keep by your side because she thought you were a good friend, and she didn’t enjoy your company just because she loved you in the platonic sense, either - otherwise, she would have spent as much time with you as she did with Alex.

But even Alex knew that if he wanted to find Farah, the chances were that she would be with you.

However, after seeing you fail one too many times, Farah knew that it was time to put you out of your misery; chasing after you until she was panting heavily, she grabbed your shoulder and turned you around, forcing you to look at her.

“I accept,” she told you bluntly, hunching over so that she could catch her breath.

You furrowed your brows, tilting your head as you glared at her. “What?”

Finally getting breath in her lungs, Farah stood upright again as she cleared her throat, smiling at you. “You’ve been trying to ask me out, and I know you can’t keep your mouth shut, so, I’m telling you now - I accept. I will go out with you.”

You were stunned, opening and closing your mouth like a fish out of water until she leaned forward and gently kissed you; your eyes went wide, and you nearly fell onto your back as you felt your entire body freeze. Staring at her blankly as she laughed at you, shaking her head.

“Farah?”

“Yes?” She hummed, stuffing her hands into her pockets.

“Just one chance, that’s all I ask for,” you mumbled. “Please?”

She grinned, swallowing thickly as she did her best not to burst out laughing all over again. “You can have as many chances as you want, habibi… just, please, stop torturing yourself by trying to ask me out.”

You nodded slowly, everything around you spinning as you grinned and laughed softly. “Just can’t seem to say the right thing, can I?”

“I don’t mind,” she hummed, shaking her head fondly. “I always love that you can make me laugh… and I always will, too.”

You dared to outstretch your hand, clearing your throat as you hoped that your fingers didn’t shake too much. “Can I hold your hand?”

“Yes,” Farah agreed, giving you her hand and lacing her fingers with hers, daring to swing her arm a little. “Come on, dinner’s in almost ten minutes, and I want to make sure everybody knows - if you’d like that, too?”

#farah karim

13 notes · View notes