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#I WISH THAT CHILD EVERY HAPPINESS IN THE WORLD
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[ a day in the sun ― albedo & kafka ] "happy birthday, my love. may the sun shine in the sky only for you on this day - shall we take a walk?"cw. gn!reader, fluff, modern!au, established relationships, reader wears dresses, petnames (dear, baby), just some sickly sweet fluff overall, ooc kafka
aquamarine's findings. happy birthday to my dearest little dove, @heiayen !! i hope this day proves to be fruitful and kind to you. you deserve the world !! ♡
with the sun shining bright in a seemingly endless blue sky and spring in full bloom, ALBEDO had plenty of ideas for this special day - it was just his hardest decision deciding which one to go with or even more so, creating an itinerary just for you. unfortunately for him the moment klee had found it your birthday was approaching, she begged him to let her in on the plans. you truly are adored by that small girl.
your toes sink into fine grains of sand, warm beneath your steps with two blondes at your side. one is bouncing, her small hand grasping yours as she tries to tug you along the length of the beach. in her spare hand is a melting ice lolly you wish she would pay a few seconds more attention to now that it's starting to drip down her hand.
the other blond somehow can't contain the small smile on his face as he watches the pair of you, the way you're laughing and yet still sending worried glances at klee's ice lolly. he can imagine the sticky mess that she's going to create the moment she reaches for something - or someone - with that hand later.
"klee, give them a break or you'll hurt their arm," your lover tries to reason with the excited child who - at the prospect of hurting you - quickly lets go of your hand to run ahead, squealing as she kicks up sand, "are you okay, dear? she can be overwhelming."
"how often do you bring her to the beach? she acts like she's never seen it in her life." you find yourself musing as the young girl crouches down to inspect something. your curiosity peeks, wandering to crouch with her as you tilt your head. albedo watches the pair of you in intrigue, the way you are both tilting your heads like confused puppies.
albedo refrains from attempting to defend his little sister's overexcited actions and instead peers to see what has got the two of you in awe. a pile of neatly collected seashells in an array of shapes and colours, embedded into the sand. klee gasps, a chubby finger pointed at a particular pastel purple seashell and you also let out an excited noise - albeit a little quiet.
his blue eyes soften, that small smile from earlier widening on his face as mid-length blond locks tickle his eyelashes, the sea breeze drifting through them and creating an even more messy appearance. no matter how long he's been dating you, he can't seem to stop admiring you. his eyes dance over how the breeze carries your hair and the pretty summer dress you decided to wear for today, how your jewellery compliments every aspect of your outfit... how did he get so lucky?
he almost chuckles at his thoughts, his cheeks warming considerably and he wonders if he could blame the weather should klee's keen eyes notice. the artist is undeniably in love with you, after all you're the source material of a lot of his works now. he's familiar with your every crevice and detail, familiar with painting them delicately onto his canvas.
he wouldn't change that for the world when your sparkling eyes return to him, a happy smile on his face as you hold up a seashell to him, exclaiming excitedly as you fawn over something so simple and yet so treasurable.
you knew very well how your girlfriend's job worked and whilst you never interfered, you wished sometimes that she could spare you a glimpse of time outside of what her boss' 'scripts' leave you with. that's not to say she was a bad partner - oh no. regardless of that slightly insufferable teasing attitude she has, the one she always brings to the table in a light-hearted manner, you knew KAFKA loved you. perhaps more than she's willing to convey with words.
kafka follows her scripts intricately, never missing a detail right up until the last second. these control her days, creating schedules upon schedules she's never faltered to argue against nor break the habit. yet she fails to tell you that in the days leading up to your birthday, she'd been very much planning to do just that.
"you look beautiful," she chimes when you enter the lounge, pausing in your steps when your eyes meet hers. she quirks a brow, amused by the way your eyes widen in surprise, "what is it, baby?"
you squint, hesitant to approach your girlfriend - what did she have in mind? what was going on? usually at this hour, the shared house you live in together was filled with the melodic sounds of kafka's classical music and in turn, her own violin. slowly, your confusion regarding the silence of the house settles in as to why your girlfriend was here and not in her study.
"did you forget your own birthday?" kafka raises to her feet, shaking her head as a light laugh escapes her lips, "oh dear, we can't be having that - definitely not today."
the woman saunters closer to you, slim hands drifting over the curves of your body in that sundress as she smiles coyly, eyes glinting in the reflection of the sun through the open window. there was never any telling what your girlfriend had planned, with the woman being exceptional at keeping her schemes concealed and hidden safely in her mind. oh, how you'd pay to be inside her mind for a mere day.
"of course i didn't," you pout, awkwardly avoiding her gaze as she presses her forehead to yours. her hands settle on your hips, a hum coming from her chest as she examines your behaviour, "you're not-"
"in my study?" she cuts you off, finishing off your thoughts as your eyes snap up to meet hers again. they're glittering, filled with mirth and amusement as her fingers tap at your hips, shaking her head before she presses a soft kiss to your lips. it's demanding despite how soft it is, her grip on your waist tightening if only for a few seconds.
when you pull away for a moment of air, kafka hums yet again and straightens up, taking hold of your hand in her gloved one. the feel of leather sends a shiver down your spine, contrasting to the cared-for hands beneath them. the ones you knew were very much soft, gentle, smooth - and they knew your body equally as much, every inch and fibre of your being.
"the sun's out and i intend to spend this day in it - with you so come on. we're going on a walk and later you can choose dinner. today, elio's scripts are off the table."
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the archives' notifications. @bisexuawolfsalt, @lovingluxury, @auroratumbles, @ryuryuryuyurboat, @soleillunne
@zamorazz, @zworllyx
© theaquamarinearchives 2024 ; reblogs appreciated. do not re-upload, translate, etc. my works on any platforms or feed any of my works to ai.
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sunshinemayhem · 1 day
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"the underworld" thoughts
i love every. single. song. in this saga. here's a play by play of me being stabbed by a dagger of sorrow with the first song.
"i no longer dream; only nightmares of those who died"
remember the last time he dreamt? there was penelope and telemachus? and then they opened the bag and everyone DIED? istg even the happy dreams have resulted in overwhelming sadness.
"558 men who died under your command"
the horror. all of his guilt and crimes and mistakes placed in front of him, surrounding him. he's forced to acknowledge the thoughts that have been consuming him, that he has buried deep inside as he compartmentalized throughout the circe saga.
"why would you let the cyclops live?"
my heart. (also the way they said that was so satisfying LOL.)
"when ruthlessness is mercy"
oh- that makes it so much worse. they quoted poseidon. the reason they're dead. no wait- odysseus caused this. the god out to kill him is not wrong. what is right anymore? (okay but i love odysseus going through an existential crisis)
"i keep thinking of the infant from the night, i keep thinking of the infant from the night"
jorge sounds so DISTRESSED. i love it. he's trying to grasp onto something, anything, to absolve his guilt.
"this life is amazing, when you greet it with open arms"
i love polites. so. much. thank you for him being here. Steven has such a hopeful voice. Open Arms is how i want to live my life. there is good in this world. even if it is dead. SOB.
"that voice? it can't be."
let me go cry in a corner for a sec. can i just say i love the lyrics here? he recognizes her voice IMMEDIATELY. he's surprised, then refuses to believe it for a while, then realises he doesn't have the time, then he's gutted.
"mom?"
this was such a good choice of words. or word. no way ancient greeks said "mom". but it captures so much the way it's said? the innocence of a child, the fear of the world --he's seeking protection and love in his mother, who has died. died before he came home.
"odysseus when you come home, i'll be waiting."
but she's NOT. he hasn't come home. also i love how it's "when" not "if". she has faith in her son. she trusts him to come home. like penelope, she doesn't think he's dead. they've waited so long, and they'll keep waiting, for this man they love.
"even if you're the last thing i see, i'll be waiting"
and she knows she's going to die soon, but she wants to see her son one final time. i love awesome portrayals of moms. she's there for you in whatever way she can be. let me go shower my mom with love rn.
"i'm right here, mom. can't you see?"
AHH. EVERY SINGLE LYRIC HERE IS SO GOOD. i love concise lyrics SO MUCH. every word packs a punch. this is why even if an album is only three songs, i will never, NEVER be angry or disappointed or SAD. because everything here is gorgeous.
also this is SO SAD. because he can see her but she can't. and that was her dying wish. so near, yet so far. he can't ever embrace her again. he let down someone he loves. again.
"i took too long."
aksdfhdaksdjss. that had NO RIGHT to be so devastating.
"i'll always love you"
AWW. let me go grab some onions. i also love how jorge's mom is singing. it's beautiful.
*swallows* "bye mom"
the voice crack. he swallows down a sob. JORGE YOU'RE SO GOOD AT THIS.
"the past is always close behind."
the underworld: a summary
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bnuyy · 2 years
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🍉. . .
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oasisofgalaxies · 1 year
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I’m so angry
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inkskinned · 11 months
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there are days that it is hard, and unfair, and some horrible part of me wishes i could have been born in a different world. i love being queer, i hate how others react to it. when i first came out at 15, my mom whispered: please don't say that. your life would be so much harder.
it is harder.
it is also a tuesday, walking my dog. we are both skiving off of work, and yes both of us have dyed hair and pronouns. mine is patchy - it was my first time trying bleach; i didn't have enough. theirs is a resilient toadstool green. a little girl comes up to us and asks um, excuse me? is your hair real? 'cause jason says you're a fairy.
it is sunday brunch, all of us talking over each other, overfull on love. she is trying out a new name today, and we made her a cake with today's name scrawled in shaky purple letters. she laughs so much she cries and then gets frosting in her hair. someone young at a different table keeps giving us these large, wide eyes: the same look we have all been on the other side of. the kind that says, breathless: wait, is that possible?
it is a half-fight in a supermarket because he loves "dance moms" and says abby's tiktok is funny and meanwhile i think the children in that show should be allowed to sue abby lee miller for child abuse. i tell him that it led to the casual acceptance of child harassment for mainly adult views; and then i am standing, suddenly, in someone else's thrown soda. there's a white lady standing there, furious, saying something about hell-on-earth. i had forgotten i was wearing stuff with pride colors. and then it is this: he had just been casually arguing with me - and within an instant, he squares his shoulders and goes after her like i am his sister
on saturday i sat in a circle while beca played with my hair and we were all over 30 and we laughed about how much happier we are being this old, how much more we appreciate our community. 25 minutes from now, we will be on stage to dance in baggy beige clothing, but for now we look on with envy to the dancers in loud-and-bright buttondowns. where are they getting these shirts! i cry, distraught. everyone laughs. one of our friends has a mushroom witch hat. this would have been cringey in high school, probably. instead we are all delighted with each other; happy just to be here and alive and moving
it's that last week my new friends cried with joy for me when they heard i'm getting top surgery. every so often i have the honor of being the first person someone feels comfortable enough to tell. i'm trying to make long fluttery butterfly wings to wear to pride; but i don't know anything about fabric or dye, so my friends have been sending me their personal advice.
i think in a different poem i would talk about how sometimes you walk into a room and put the mask back on. but i'm sleepy and my whole brain is fuzzy so i think in this one, it's a monday, and my dog and i took a nap on a couch, and i had missed texts from friends. i used to wake up lonely. i think this poem is about walking into a room and seeing someone and just knowing, the way you just-know-sometimes, and then giving them that little smile, and seeing them light up with joy and relief. it is how we always seem to be able to find each other in a crowded room. how we always seem to make friends with each other before even we know-it-to-be-true. it is saying: we're very different people; but i belong to you.
it is harder, yes. but it comes with a built-in family.
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nocreativityfornames · 3 months
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Everything we know about Barbatos so far, lore wise.
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WARNING: SPOILERS FOR ALL SEASONS
➤ He lives in the Demon Lord's Castle with Diavolo and works as his loyal butler. (swd: 2-13)
➤ He's one of the demons who share a pact with Solomon. (swd: 2-A)
➤ According to Mammon, he has a secret torture room beneath the castle from where you can hear the screaming of his victims at night. The other brothers and Diavolo were in the room when he told this to MC but none of them batted an eye or tried to deny it. (swd: 6-19)
➤ Before, citizens of the Devildom were allowed to easily travel to the Human World whenever they wished through passages placed in certain locations in the kingdom, but now those passages are blocked and the only way demons can use them is by getting permission from the few other demons who are still allowed to use them freely first. Barbatos is one of said demons. (swd: 11-4)
➤ He has the ability to time travel thanks to his powers that allow him to create a portal to any place, time and reality he wants. (swd: 15-17 and 53-11)
➤ He was the one to take MC back to the past when they made a deal with Diavolo to figure out who had opened the attic door and released Past!Belphegor in exchange for Present!Belphegor's freedom from being imprisoned for conspiring against the exchange program. (swd: 15-17)
➤ He looked into MC's bloodline under Diavolo's request once the prince realized there was something special about them, and it was then that he found out that they were Lilith's distant descendant. (swd: 16-15)
➤ In response to MC asking him if he knew everything that would happen with Belphegor getting out of the attic before it occurred Barbatos said that no, he didn't know, and even further said: "Imagine for a moment what it would be like to know everything that will happen from now until the end of time. Why nothing could possibly be more boring, wouldn't you agree?" (swd: 15-17)
➤ His main way to use his powers to "space travel" is through the many doors in his room in the Demon Lord's Castle. (swd: 15-17)
➤ He was never a child. (swd chat: The Royals, “That's What I Mean”)
➤ He met Solomon a long time ago when the sorcerer risked death to summon him (swd: 53-16), desperately needing his powers to control time for reasons that are still unknown. (swd: 49-A)
➤ He gave Solomon his grimoire out of trust and respect for him. (swd: 53-16)
➤ It's a big rumor around the kingdom that he's powerful enough to rival even the Demon King himself. (swd: 54-1)
➤ He met Diavolo when the prince was still a child and Diavolo got Barbatos to work for him by luring him into the castle with the promise of very rare tea and then telling him that he wouldn't let him leave unless he agreed to be his butler, getting to the point of even threatening to not assume his position of king in the future if the older demon refused to. And telling this story to Thirteen, Barbatos confessed to having found the whole thing very cute. (swd: 58-A and nb: 15-A)
➤ When it hit the news that he had sworn allegiance to Diavolo the whole kingdom was in shock and it was THE THING everyone was talking about. (swd: 54-1 and nb: 15-1)
➤ He has been around for a long time and shows up in historical records under multiple different names. Rumor has it he was alive even before the Devildom took shape. (nb: 15-1)
➤ When asked about Diavolo in a conversation with MC, he told them that the prince is the very reason for his current existence. (swd: 54-5)
➤ Narrated by Solomon in the Nightbringer Prologue Movie we hear the story of a certain demon, it goes: “Once upon a time, there was a demon who could see both past and future. With a flurry of trumpets from his king, the demon appeared. Finding a lost human the demon whispered: 'I can take you to where you'll be happy.' Through their tears, the human spoke: 'Thank you, o kind one. If you save me from this dark path, I will pray to you every night. Please, tell me what they call you!'" But before any reply can be said Barbatos is shown making a shushing sound, which was largely perceived as him not wanting the viewers to know that he was the demon from the story. Later, the human was revealed to be Adam, a man who came to the Devildom looking for his lover and met a demon named Nightbringer, who he immediately went to begging for help. (nb: 8-16)
➤ He was the one to give Solomon the title of “the Witty Sorcerer” when he brought him to the Fountain of Knowledge for the first time while Solomon was on the verge of death. Barbatos attended the sorcerer's wounds there and declared him the new protector of the spring. (nb: 11-10)
➤ He's to blame for how much Solomon has changed, according to Thirteen. The reaper told MC that Solomon used to be very loveably innocent when he was younger, but that Barbatos let him experience whatever he wanted and now nothing scares or fazes him anymore. (nb: 11-10)
➤ The reason he had been so irritable towards Solomon in the past was because when visiting the sorcerers' home he found a list of demons he wanted to make pacts with and noticed his name was placed 8th. (nb: 25-1)
➤ Before meeting Diavolo he used to use his powers freely to travel through time and space whenever he wanted without a care for how his actions could affect others, and they ended up terribly affecting Diavolo and Solomon, and Barbatos sees his devout servitude to the prince as a way to atone for those past actions, but Diavolo doesn't know that. (nb card: Barbatos, "Tea With You")
➤ Although he accepted to work for the prince for the sake of atonement, he ended up enjoying his time with him and found that he felt a sense of belonging working for him. (nb card: Barbatos, "Tea With You")
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tarotwithavi · 3 months
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The type of lover you deserve
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How to choose a pile?
Take a deep breath and gently close your eyes. Politely request your spirit guides to reveal the appropriate pile meant for you, then open your eyes. Whichever pile captures your attention is the one meant for you.
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Pile 1
Omg pile one I love your energy! So first things first you deserve someone who matches your energy. Like someone who understands you without even saying anything. Someone who can just look into your eyes and feel the depths of your heart. Someone who can protect and cherish your innocence. You're naive pile 1. You trust people easily and sometimes this leads you to people using you for their profit. You deserve someone who can protect you, someone who can cherish your innocence. Someone who won't taint your pure and sweet heart. Someone who won't tell you to change and be someone you're not. You deserve someone who won't tell you that you're too kind for this world and that you need to change yourself in order to survive. You deserve someone who'll let you be innocent and sweet. You deserve someone who'll be proud to have you in their life. You deserve someone who'll be sure about yourself. Someone who's ready to wife/husband you up without any doubt. You deserve someone who'll make your feel confident. I see that some of you may have daddy issues so you instantly like people who give off mature and responsible vibes. You deserve someone with whom you can share your deepest darkest secrets. Someone who won't judge you for liking things that you like, dressing the way you want to etc. you deserve someone who'll teach you new things without making you feel stupid. Someone who'll be patient with you. You deserve someone who knows how to handle their emotions, especially Anger because I see that you may have some kind of trauma revolving anger issues or people shouting and things breaking. I see that you guys had to grow up early, you had to be mature beyond your age, sometimes you feel like you missed out on so many things. So you deserve someone with whom your inner child can feel protected, secure and happy. You deserve someone who can give you the love you never got as a child. You guys could be born in June, March, November or August or these could be significant months for you.
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Pile 2
Welcome pile 2! The first message I'm getting is that someone of you could practice witchcraft or you could be interested in the occult. You could be interested in conspiracy theories or things that people do not talk about so openly. I also see that you could give off intimidating vibes. So you deserve someone who doesn't get scared easily. You deserve someone who has similar interests as you, probably someone with whom you can do witchy stuff. Pile 2 you deserve someone who understands your magic. Someone who believes in magic. Someone who is not too practical or logical like that type of practical person who doesn't believe in magik. Someone who can think outside the box. You deserve someone who learns, grows and adapts with time. You do not deserve someone who lives like an NPC. You deserve someone who matches your uniqueness, someone who is not afraid to let themselves shine. You deserve someone with whom you can travel to different places. I see that you are someone who likes taking risks so you deserve someone who has the same adventurous soul. You deserve someone who matches your freaky energy 😜 I see that you have a lot of stamina and deserve someone who matches your energy in bed. You're absolutely magical so you deserve someone who can handle your otherworldly energy. You deserve someone who can make your every wish come true. You deserve someone who is willing to put in the effort to be with you. You deserve someone who can offer you something in return. I see that you have been the type of person who does more than needed for others so you deserve someone who can spend money on you and spend time with you. You deserve someone who can show you how lovely it is to love and be loved. I also see that you deserve someone who can handle pain for some reason? Idk you deserve someone who won't feel pity for your backstory. You deserve someone who won't look at you with sympathy, instead you deserve someone who can challenge you because you love challenges. You could be an Earth or water sign, especially cancer, Pisces, Virgo and Capricorn.
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Pile 3
Whatsup! Pile 3! The first message I am picking upon is that you deserve someone who is willing to fight for your attention. you deserve someone who is ready to fight for your relationship. You deserve someone who does not give up easily. I see that sometimes you can be hard to love because you are always evolving, you are always changing, you are not the person you were a few months ago and some people cannot keep up with it. So you deserve someone who can keep up with your transformations, someone who will not stop loving you just because you have changed. You deserve someone who loves you for your soul, who loves you for your true self. you deserve someone who is willing to make things work. you deserve someone who wants stable long term commitment. you do not deserve somebody who is just looking for casual dating. I'm also picking up on the message that you deserve someone who treats you like a Queen. you deserve someone who gives you princess treatment and if your person is not willing to give you princess treatment then they might not be the one for you. You deserve someone who takes up on the traditional image of their gender, someone who is willing to provide and protect. I see that you romanticize old love, you romanticize when people used to write letters, were patient, and were ready to love. Another message I'm getting is that you deserve someone who treats your body like a temple, who worships your body. Someone who worships the ground you walk. Someone who puts you on a pedestal. You absolutely deserve to be treated like a queen. And let me make one thing clear: you'll only receive this treatment when you're willing to treat your person like a king. You deserve someone who is willing to learn new things for you, you deserve someone who is willing to change their perspective about things. You deserve someone who is also evolving and changing so you guys can keep up with each other.
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Pile 4
This is definitely my crazy pile 🤣 Hello pile 4! Welcome to your reading! You deserve someone who matches your weird energy like someone who is willing to be strange, loud and crazy with you. You deserve someone who is open and wholesome. I see that you do not give a buck about what people say and you just want to be your true self. You love spreading happiness and kindness. I am hearing “ she likes to give a smile to every stranger” . You should listen to “she's crazy but she's mine” . You're a walking representation of this song. You deserve someone who won't feel awkward by your energy, you deserve someone who does not feel threatened by the attention you attract. I see that you have a really unique energy that attracts a lot of attention wherever you go. You could be sitting there reading your book and people would still be looking at you like you are a star so you deserve somebody who does not feel insecure about the attention you attract. You deserve someone who is confident, you deserve someone who won't make you dim your light. You deserve someone who is just as crazy as you are , you deserve somebody who can match your vibe. Another message I'm getting is that you deserve somebody who is kind and humble because you are someone who likes spreading love around and you are someone who likes helping people. You do not like dishonest and ungrateful people. You deserve someone with whom you can help others. You deserve someone who is just as passionate about life as you are. You deserve an optimistic person. I see that you have gone through a lot of betrayals but you still choose to believe in love and happiness. You deserve an emotionally mature person, you deserve someone who feels their emotion and does not sabotage themselves. You deserve someone who loves children who loves working with children and animals. I see that you will be doing charity work with your future partner. You deserve someone who is interested in space, dinosaurs and random facts.
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emiliehornby · 4 months
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i beg you (and you don’t understand)
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pairing luke castellan x fem! child of athena! reader
synopsis luke knew you loved him enough to fight a war for him, but you should have known that history would eventually write you two against each other
warnings MAJOR spoilers for the lightning thief
author’s notes turns out i can’t go too long without writing angst!! so after listening to history of man by maisie peters, i had an idea and completely ran with it. writing this literally had me kicking my feet!! happy first fic of the year!! woohoo!! apologies in advance though lol
Luke had once asked you, “Do you ever think about what our lives would look like if we weren’t here?”
“Like at camp? Maybe a little too much. It’s not like we can do anything about it, but if I get the chance to be with you in every lifetime, it can’t be too bad. Right?” You smiled.
“To Tartarus and back?” He placed a hand on your cheek.
You leaned into him, “To Tartarus and back, baby.”
“Luke. Luke is the traitor.”
Percy’s words swam in your ears. You should have known it when he barely came back alive from his quest and looked for someone to blame. Heck, just last week, Luke had admitted he imagined a future with you, away from the burdens of being demigods. For the first time in forever, he had felt at peace. The signs had been right in front of you…yet you still didn’t see them coming.
Some daughter of Athena you were.
The campers occupying the infirmary came to a stop at Percy’s declaration. As the boy went on to explain how he’d been poisoned by a scorpion and exposed Luke’s vendetta, they hung onto every word. The question as to how the golden boy at camp came to be so angry at the world lingered in the air.
And you hated it.
You stood from beside Percy’s bedside, “Chris…go get Peter, Maisie, and Delilah. If anyone else wants to help, they can. But we have to look for him.”
“On it.” Chris nodded.
“You guys, stay here.” You told Percy, Annabeth, and Grover.
Percy failed to follow your orders. Instead, he staggered outside the infirmary while his friend’s pleas for him to stay were ignored. The son of Poseidon fell into step with you and screamed, “Didn’t you hear what I just said?! Why would you wanna find Luke after what he’s done?”
You turned around, “Because he would have done it for me!” Percy’s body bumped into yours. You reached over at his sides to stabilize him. An ounce of doubt in your own words sparked a slight burn building in the back of your throat. You tried to bite it back, only for it to be replaced with a heavy weight falling onto your shoulders.
“Then if anyone gets to look for him, it should be me.” Percy demanded.
You patted his hair, “And if anyone can get to his head, it’s me, Percy.”
“Where do you want us?” Chris cut your conversation short. Delilah came from behind him, handing over your daggers.
“You guys head towards the North Woods. I’ll be near the border. We’ll circle back at the Big House.” You placed one in your holster, nodding in the direction they were supposed to take. Your friends wished you luck and ran straight through the trees while you pointed a dagger at Percy, “I mean it. Stay here, you’re safer that way.”
You left without another word.
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Amidst your search, you bumped into your siblings, who shared sympathetic looks, and other Hermes kids, who offered to accompany you. You insisted on treading this alone, a sense of obligation clouding over you to do so. Luke had been it for you since the beginning, and a twisted part of you didn’t want that to change. If you could just get a moment alone with him, maybe you could convince him the impending war wasn’t worth it. Maybe eventually, the Gods would get their punishments…
You didn’t realize how long you’d been wandering the forest. You dreaded coming back to camp without Luke, taking your time while the sky settled into a warm orange to guide you through your last round of the forest outside the border. You twisted a dagger around your wrist to keep you occupied, coming to a halt when a pile of leaves crunched from behind you. Slowly, you turned around to seemingly nothing, but the tracks in the dirt told you a different story.
You scolded your sister, “It’s not safe out here.”
“Then come back to camp with me.” Annabeth removed her cap.
You shook your head, “I- Look, I can’t.”
Annabeth tried to convince you, “Luke probably left as soon as Percy was poisoned. But the Gods will find a way to deal with him-”
“The Gods shouldn’t have to deal with him! If they didn’t just abandon us, we wouldn’t even be here right now!” Your sister’s face fell as you couldn’t help but raise your voice. When she failed to look at you, you shut your eyes and took a deep breath.
Gods, you just wanted Luke to come home to you. Was that too much to ask?
You waved her over, “Annabeth…come here.”
She listened and you wrapped your arms around her, “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have said that.”
“I just want to help. Luke was my family too.” Annabeth gave you a squeeze. 
“I know, but you have to listen to me. Okay?” You pulled away to place your hands on her cheeks. For a second, you saw the shadow of your sister at seven years old, the age she was when she first came to camp. You looked her in the eyes to clearly instruct her, “Go back to the cabin. I just need a second.”
“I’m not leaving you here-” Annabeth frowned.
“I’ll be right behind you. I promise.” You reassured her.
Annabeth refused to take no for an answer, “Then I’ll wait for you by the border.”
You pat her head and gently pushed her towards camp, “Go.”
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You had barely reached the border when you felt someone staring at you.
“When you said you’d wait for me by the border, I thought you meant you’d be behind it.” You joked around, thinking it was Annabeth.
Instead, a voice replied in the distance, “You know how Annabeth can be with loopholes.” You tightened a grip on your dagger, circling around to pinpoint where the echo came from. When you felt a rustle in the wind, you turned around sharply. The tip of the blade hovered just centimeters away from Luke’s throat.
Your stare hardened, “What’s stopping me from turning you in right now?”
“Easy. You’d never do that to me.” Luke cracked a smile.
You couldn’t even argue with him.
You feared to ask, “So it’s true…what you did to Percy?”
His silence was enough of an answer.
Luke tapped the edge of the blade and moved closer to you. His mere presence rendered you defenseless as you let him take the dagger from you and drop it into the dirt. You faltered when he tried to hold you close, one hand holding his wrist while the other punched at his chest.
“Hey, it’s okay. We’re okay.” He took the blows with ease.
You looked up at him, “Luke.”
He couldn’t stop himself from kissing you. His hand cupped at your jaw while you placed your hands on his neck. Like it was muscle memory, he took two steps forward to gently pin you up against the nearest tree. You deepened the kiss, feeling his pulse quicken against your fingers, savoring the moment. Luke was the first to pull away, but he only leaned further into your touch.
“Come with me.” He begged.
“Luke…” You whispered.
He tried to explain himself, “You have to understand…I wanted to give us a chance in this new world that’s waiting for us. I did this for us. So come with me.”
You forced yourself to face reality. You may have stood in front of your past and present, but you had to think about the future. This wasn’t Camp Half Blood. You weren’t playfully sparring for bragging rights or working on strategies in the Hermes cabin to win capture the flag. You lived in a world where a war between the Gods was imminent because of the boy you loved. This is what you had been training for, but you couldn’t do anything to convince him it was wrong.
So you pushed him away.
You yelled, “Annabeth! Chiron! Anyone?!” He spared you a glance before narrowly escaping between the trees. When he was nothing but a shadow, you will yourself to run off as fast as your legs could carry you. You didn’t care that your body felt like it was burning in the pits of Tartarus. You didn’t want to stop until you found a familiar face.
You turned around in case he followed you, even though a feeling in your gut told you that was it. You yelled again, “Annabeth- umph!” You collided straight into the girl, falling just behind Thalia’s tree. You groaned, rolling off of her and wiping your face. Annabeth sat up to check on you, making sure you came back unharmed.
“Annabeth?! Y/N?!” Percy ran in with Riptide in his hand and Grover at his side. You couldn’t help but laugh at the look on their faces.
“Are you okay?” Grover sat himself next to you. His gentle touch on your back turned your laughter into tears. They slowly fell down your face, burying yourself into your hands as you sobbed. Your sister and the satyr were patient while you worked through your emotions, both of them sharing a look before glaring at Percy. Silent expressions were thrown between the trio until a pointed look from Annabeth made Percy sit down in defeat. He used Riptide to draw shapes into the dirt while they comforted you.
You finally lifted your head up, confessing, “Luke asked me…he asked me to join him.”
Grover only asked what everyone hesitated to, “What did you say?”
“I didn’t say anything. I couldn’t- I can’t believe he would even ask that in the first place. I didn’t know what to do, so I just…I ran. I shouldn’t have run.” Your voice faltered when Annabeth gently wiped under your eyes. Afraid to go deeper into the subject if it meant accepting Luke’s fate, you nodded over at Percy instead, silent “You didn’t have to come in full force, you know. Thank you.”
Percy only shrugged, “Hey, you’d do it for me.”
“I’m sorry, Percy.” You apologized for snapping at him before you left. You apologized for Luke poisoning him. You apologized for the universe that brought him, a child, into this path he didn’t choose to take. 
“Yeah, me too.” Percy was sorry it turned out like this. He was sorry for Luke hurting you, the one he loved the most. He was sorry about the Gods, who could have prevented this if they just loved their children a little more.
You broke his thoughts to beckon him over, “Come over here.”
Hesitantly, Percy obliged. When his feet touched yours, you yanked him down and brought the kids under your arms. They couldn’t help but lean deeper into you, hoping the love you had for each other would get you through the idea of a war you’d have no choice but to inevitably partake in. You pressed a kiss to Annabeth’s head, unaware of Luke, who silently watched you take the kids back to their cabins and turned to leave you behind.
One day, you’d find it in yourself to heal from the betrayal that blindsided you all. But you were his weakness, and it would only be a matter of time before someone took advantage of that. It wouldn’t be long until you met again.
After all, history had its eyes on you two.
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nkogneatho · 10 months
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𝐉𝐉𝐊 𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐀𝐃𝐒 (𝑭𝑨𝑻𝑯𝑬𝑹'𝑺 𝑫𝑨𝒀 𝑺𝑷𝑪𝑳)
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—cw: fem!reader, diabetes worth fluff, soft and protective dads, megumi, tsumiki as yours and toji's kids, mention of childhood trauma in geto's, dad jokes, not proofread
—a/n: I hope you shed a tear and laugh out loud. Don't let this flop. I actually wrote all of these from my personal emotions and experiences :)) Reblogs appreciated.
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#mlist #art commissions #taglist
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˗ˏˋ ♡ ˎˊ˗ TELL ME WHO WAS YOUR FAVORITE DAD!!! ༊*·˚
𝐆𝐎𝐉𝐎 𝐒𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
All these jjk women clowning gojo makes me think his daughter roasts him at every chance she gets. It's not even on purpose. It's just wise words out of a child's mouth.
"Hana-chan~" he calls her in a sugar laced tone. "How do I look in this?" Satoru pointed towards the awful shirt he was wearing. The outfit was all over the place. It was so bad that even your five year old could tell it.
"Papa's good at fighting, not fashion." His jaw immediately dropped and he could hear you trying to control your laugh.
He knelt so he could be a little more "Hana-chan, don't be mean to papa. It's making me cry."
"She's not being mean, baby. Just telling the truth. I'll divorce you if you wear that one more time," you stated, walking towards both of them.
"Oh yeah," he picks the five year old in his embrace, "I'd fight your lawyer. Daddy's the strongest. Right, hana-chan?"
"But you lost the argument to mama las' night." It was amazing how she can sounds so sweet while ripping your husband apart. You finally laughed out loud because you just couldn't control it.
You would expect Toru to put up an argument at times like this but he just giggles, and squeezes you both in a tight hug.
Yeah. He might be the strongest, but he'd always loose to his two girls.
𝐅𝐔𝐒𝐇𝐈𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐎 𝐓𝐎𝐉𝐈 .ೃ࿐
Your four year old and seven year old were determined to surprise their daddy for father's day. Toji never credits himself. He does so much, but expects nothing back. The thought of "what my kids might gift me for father's day" doesn't even strike his mind. He goes out and sees all the decorations on the stores with big glittered alphabets spelling "happy father's day" that's how he comes to know about it. Yet, the man wouldn't expect anything. He knows you three love him. He just doesn't want anything in return. His love doesn't come at a price for you all to pay. So when he came home to utensils clanking to the ground, he was worried.
"Oné-san, no. That's not how I wanted yout two write," megumi complained.
"Megumi, I am older. I know what to do." They both were trying to dominate each other on what to write on the cake. When they heard Toji's footsteps, the little boy pushed you towards the kitchen entrance.
"Mama, don't let papa come in now." You were laughing as you get kicked out of your own kitchen.
"Hey, sweetheart. I heard some noise. 's everything alright?" Toji gave you a quick peck after the question.
"Oh? Oh that yeah! Everything's fine. I just dropped the pan."
"Are ya hurt?" His eyes look completely concerned.
"Uh hun, I am fi—" before you could complete the sentence, your two cute munchkins came squealing, holding the little cake with small hands.
You moved your figure out of the way so your man can see what his kids made for him.
"Happy father's day, papa." They both wished him with a hearty smile. Toji was surprised. His heart suddenly warmed up to the feeling of the view in front of him. His two babies with flour patches on their tees, tsumiki's messy bun and megumi with cream near his lips, confirming he must've snuck in a taste when his sister was looking away. He wanted to cry.
You looked down and noticed there was a spelling mistake with the word "world" on the cake which was supposed to spell "to best daddy in the world"
"Gumi, Tsumiki, there's a mis—" Toji looked at you and shaked his head, speaking with his looks, telling you to not say it. He did notice it, but he didn't care about the mistake. All he wanted now was to gobble down the cake that his babies made. He pat them both on the head, ruffling their hair. "Thank you, little bears. Lesgo' enjoy this and then papa will take you and mama to the game world you like."
With the way he is looking at them, you're sure he'd eat that cake even if it was poison.
𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐎 𝐒𝐔𝐆𝐔𝐑𝐔 .ೃ࿐
Geto didn't think he'll ever have kids, but when he was gifted with twin girls, he claims he is the luckiest person alive ever since.
He loves spoiling his little girls. He takes them shopping, pampers them all the time, helps them learn their nursery rhymes. If they ever were to grow up being too bratty, you are prepared to blame him because he never scolds them. He would dare not to. But that is the thing about kids. You don't yell at them. You don't have to be so harsh. You just have to ease it in and make them understand how their wrongdoings can affect others, hurt others as well as themselves.
Something always triggered inside you when you saw him being soft with Rumi and Arohi. You wished you were treated that way in your childhood. You only thought about them being bratty if not yelled, because that's what your childhood was like.
You were working on some documents, when you heard the door unlocking. Rumi and Arohi walked in with their pink bunny bags on their back.
"Mama, we're home!!" they squealed and ran into your arms, as you quickly set the files aside.
"Aww, seems like you had fun without mama. Where's your dad?"
"There." They pointed at the 3 foot box with legs on the door.
"AH! OH MY GOD. Who are you? How did you get in?" Your mother instincts hid the girls behind your back, as you tried to find something to hit the man with.
"Y/N, NO. IT'S ME," the box monster yelled. He moved his head revealing his fox eyes and you could recognize him.
"Suguru? Oh dear."
"A little help please," his voice felt struggled. You quickly sprinted towards the door, and helped him trying to get the box on the floor only two reaveal all the bags he had behind him.
"Did you guys buy the whole store? And what's this? A lego set?"
"That's for you, mama," Rumi stated.
"Yes mama, we got it for you. The biggest one in the store," said Arohi, running towards her shopping bag filled with toys.
"Suguru, for me? Why?"
"Darling. I always see you doing so much for us," his palms now cupped your cheek. "It broke my heart when you told me that story when you wanted the lego set but the responsibile daughter in you felt you did nothing to achieve it so why ask for it. Well here you go."
"I still don't understand," you shaked your head.
"Y/n. It's okay to spoil yourself. You don't always have to work hard to give yourself a little love. These things that you wanted were always yours even if all you did was try." Tears started streaming down your eyes. You felt the seven year old girl in you finally smile.
"Rumi-chan. Arohi-chan. Let's play with mama's gift." All three started sabotaging the tapes and lables in the big blue box.
You felt happy to have this family. You know why he's a great father? Because Suguru doesn't care for two kids. He spoils three. Your daughters, and that little girl in you who wished to have all that you do today.
𝐍𝐀𝐍𝐀𝐌𝐈 𝐊𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐎 .ೃ࿐
A man like nanami will always be a great father. No doubt. But here's one thing you probably don't know about Nanami Kento.
He's a full time salaryman, and part time comedian. Well...probably the worst one because his dad jokes are awful. You wanna know how it started in the first place, right? So it was when you were feeding the two year old the baby food, that you suddenly heard your phone ringing. Kento quicky replaced your place and took over the feeding as you walked towards the hall.
"Aww look at you. Aren't you the cutest baby in the world?" He took the spoon off the alligator cartooned bowl and extended it near her mouth. "Do you want to hear daddy's joke?"
Three mintues later you walked in two the sound of your little girl giggling and laughing. She's never laughed so loud.
"Oh my god. She's laughing."
"Yes. I made her laugh, beloved." Kento looked so happy with the biggest smile.
"Really? What did you do?"
"I said a joke." You luaghed too soon. Was that line a joke because Nanami Kento being comical? No. Impossible.
"I am sorry, baby. It's not true, right?"
"It is. You wanna see? Okay here we go." He moved his head back to harumi. "Harumi, do you know what do you call an alligator in a vest?" Your eyes were hooked on to them.
"An investigator." You couldn't believe your eyes nor your ears. She was really laughing. You chuckled too. Harumi must really loved his dad. Either that, or she has a poor sense of humor like the blonde in front of her.
Since then, Kento always collects dad jokes like pokemons and records her giggling.
𝐑𝐘𝐎𝐌𝐄𝐍 𝐒𝐔𝐊𝐔𝐍𝐀 .ೃ࿐
Trust me or not, Sukuna is a great father. I'll tell you why. You don't see his protectiveness? Yeah he doesn't show much care on the surface, but you don't spot how he is always lurking behind you to whoop anyone's ass who tries to hurt his loved ones?
That's how Sukuna is even as a father. He wants his kids to stand up for themselves, but he'd always be having their back. To hold them and catch them if they trip.
"Oh they sure do grow up fast. You blink and they're already in college, y/n," your neighbor laughed with you. It was Akio's fifth birthday party.
"Everything looks great, but... " she scanned around, "don't you think pink theme is too girly for a boy? Especially the flower tiara on Akio's head.
You were irritated. How dare she say that? Unfortunately for her, Sukuna heard it and quickly walked to you. He kneeled to place the sanrio stickers on Akio's cheeks.
"Yeah so?" Your husband questioned the woman. "Who said pink is for just girls? And even if it was, there wouldn't be anything wrong with Akio liking it." The silence followed made it clear she didn't expect the clapback.
"Plus the tiara makes him look the cutest. Maybe you should try one. It's on the counter. You can surely use..." he eyed her head to toe"...some glow up.
She immediately rushed out of the door with her son and not apparently the counter. You three burst out laughing.
"Ugly Bitch telling my son what he should like."
"KUNA!" you slapped his back for swearing in front of your child.
"What?! Hey, if Akio ever wanted to call her that, I will galdy let it slide. In fact, I'll support him."
He might act like an immature kid sometime, but you know you had kids with the right person when he makes sure his children are raised in healthy environment.
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Taglist: @denji-star @simp-lauren @katsukichu @bbytamaki @thebrokenkitkat @his-saiko @loml-riri @milophiliac @aztecbrujeria @tohokuu @chailattle @erintaro @pumpumrins @lilitudemon @suyacho @keiskyutie @aiizenn @fluffy-ai @bibemiiu @4sat0ruu @namcore @yuujispinkhair @buerriberry @vagabond-umlaut @thedead101
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aemondsbabe · 4 months
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Ñuha Zaldrīzes
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summary: future & facesitting || discussing wishes for your baby with your husband turns into something more
pairing: daemon targaryen x f!reader
warnings: mature/explicit, 18+ (minors dni!), no use of y/n, afab reader, pregnant reader, oral sex (f receiving), allusions to piv sex, dirty talk, daemon being soft and loving we love to see it, let me know if i missed anything!
word count: 1.8k
a/n: happy day eight of 12 days of smuff!!! surely this counts as future otherwise i'd have them fucking in a spaceship & that just didn't sit right with me
12 days of smuff masterlist!
gif creds to @pedropcl
likes, comments, & reblogs are very appreciated but never required!
🌟add yourself to my taglist to be notified when i post new fics!
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A soft giggle bursts from your lips as Daemon’s hand skirts over your large belly yet again, his soft touches tickling your skin as his hand ghosts lovingly over your bump, the delicate lacy fabric of your nightgown bunched around his wrist. 
“Okay, okay, so,” you say breathily, finally calming down as his touch seems to settle on your hip, “If it’s a little girl, perhaps Vaenera? And for a little boy… Vaenor?” You suggest, your breath warm against the prince’s neck as you rest your cheek against his shoulder, tucked safely into his side atop your silk covered bed. 
“I still think we should name her Visenya,” the blond drawls, tracing soothing patterns into your hip as he holds you against him, “With a nice strong name like that, she will grow to greatness.” 
You stay silent for a moment, your eyes locked onto the fluid movements of the sheer curtains that lead out onto the balcony, watching as they blow in the breeze carried in by the Narrow Sea. Daemon can’t help but notice you still against him and he smiles softly when he sees that familiar, far off look in your eyes – always his dreamer.
“Where did you go?” He asks gently, all traces of the usual brash, cocky tone with which he speaks gone. 
“Nowhere,” you smile, tilting your head up to peer at him through your lashes, “I was merely thinking of what kind of person this little one will grow up to be.” You stroke a hand over your belly as you speak, your smile only growing as you feel a soft, barely there kick against your palm. 
“If they’re even half as kind and gentle as their mother, the world will be a much better place with them in it,” your husband whispers, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. A pink blush blooms across the apples of your cheeks, as it always does when he speaks so tenderly. 
“And if they’re half as hard headed as their father, well… somehow, I will love them all the more,” you whisper, laughing yet again as Daemon trails his fingers over your side, tickling you purposefully this time.
“Me, hard headed?” He teases, laughing along with you, “I’m not the one that nearly sent the kitchens into a tailspin this evening when they demanded duck, now am I?” His violet eyes sparkled in the low light of the candles that flickered around the room, a teasing smirk etched across his face.
“That’s very unfair!” You giggle, leaning up to properly look at him. “You know how I am when I’m with child,” you huff, your blush only deepening when you see his eyes darken just slightly as his gaze flits over you, “Especially once it’s this far along; all I want is roast duck and–”
“And lemon cakes at every meal,” Daemon finishes for you, softly smiling, “Yes, sweetling, the entire castle is most aware.” He chuckles. 
“Then the kitchens should know to have duck, that’s all I’m saying…” You grumble, sinking back down into his embrace. The two of you relax into a comfortable silence for many minutes, your husband’s breathing so steady and calm that you assume he’s fallen asleep. When he speaks again, his soft voice almost startles you.
“The kitchens did particularly well with the lemon cakes this evening…”
Your eyebrows furrow together at the statement and you lift your head again, meaning to give him a confused stare. The cakes were exceptionally good this evening, but you can’t help but notice the teasing lilt in his voice.
You open your mouth to speak, but the darkness in Daemon’s eyes gives you pause, a breathy, barely audible whimper escaping your lips before you have a chance to stop it.
“However, I can’t help but be in the mood for a much different type of dessert, little wife.” He says lowly, gently pulling you up until your faces are level, careful to be ever conscious of your growing stomach. 
“Daemon –” You start, only to be cut off with a searing kiss as he presses his lips to yours. You whimper against his lips, your head already spinning in his embrace as his tongue toys with yours.
“It’s been so long,” he starts, trailing kisses down your jaw and neck, nibbling at one spot that always has you seeing stars, “Since you’ve let me have what I want.”
“H-Husband,” you gasp breathlessly, your nails digging helplessly into his chest as you cling to him, “You had me just this, Gods, this morning for breakfast, if you’ll recall.” You managed to say between whimpers and gasps as he practically feasted on the sensitive spot on your neck, his hands softly kneading and caressing your breasts. 
He makes a small, displeased hum before he pulls back to look at you, his dark eyes studying you carefully before a small smirk grows on his lips, “You know very well that’s not what I’m after.”
Your eyes widen just slightly as you finally catch his meaning; you shake your head with a small chuckle. “Surely you can’t be serious,” your smile fades as he holds your stare with a small, unchanging smirk, “Daemon, I’ll crush you!”
“And what an honorable death that would be, sweet wife,” he chuckles, his hands firmly grasping your hips as he lifts you up and onto his lap, your head spins as you feel his already hard length pressing against you through the thin linen breeches he has on, “I’ll be fine, it’s not as if this is exactly new territory for us…” He teases, gently skirting his hands over your belly. 
“We’ve never done it when I’ve been… like this, though,” you shyly point out, looking down at your bump. 
“Do you really not see how insatiable I become every time you’re with child?” Daemon asks, his voice soft and gentle, “I will only ever have you like this a scant few times. Please, sweetling, let me savor it.”
Biting your lip, you gaze down at him, eyes trailing across his bare chest and shoulders and up the strong column of his neck before they finally settle on his face – the look in his eyes nearly making you gasp. His violet eyes are fixed on you, roaming over your body with so much love and adoration that you feel as if you may melt from it. 
Before you even register the movement, you’re nodding. 
Daemon’s eyes instantly flick up to yours, sparkling with victory. His hands grip your hips again, gently guiding you up his muscular form as he silently thanks the Seven that you wear nothing beneath your Myrish lace nightgowns. A loud groan practically bursts from the prince’s chest once you’re positioned over his face; he loves being surrounded by you — loves the way your soft thighs bracket his head, the way you position your dripping center perfectly over his mouth, and the way the only thing he sees when he looks up is your belly, swollen with his seed, his child. 
If it were up to Daemon, he would happily spend the rest of his days here. 
Your chest heaves as you grip the headboard of the bed, your heart hammering in your chest from the anticipation of it. You whimper softly as his hands, rough from so many years of sword fighting and dragon riding, grab at your thighs and hips. 
He presses soft, sweet kisses to the inside of your thighs before licking a slow, steady line up your center; you can feel him smirk triumphantly against you as moans and whimpers spill from your lips. 
“Oh, Gods, Daemon!” You gasp, voice already ragged as you white-knuckle the headboard. Your thighs tremble with the effort of holding yourself even a fraction of an inch above your husband’s face, something he notices quite quickly. A displeased growl rumbles from his chest, making you pant as it vibrates against your core.
“Fucking sit,” Daemon rasps, tugging you against his mouth, his tongue roughly spearing into you as he grinds your pearl against his nose, hands moving your hips against his face. 
Your mind all but whites out as he rocks you against him, nose and tongue working in perfect tandem to send shivers down your spine. Your eyes squeeze shut, frantic moans pouring from your mouth as a fire steadily builds within you. 
“H-Husband,” you pant, walls clenching tightly around his tongue as he groans into your heat, “I— Fuck, I’m—!” You can hardly get the words out as Daemon seals his lips around your sensitive bud, suckling it at a maddening pace as his hands move down to cup your ass, kneading it roughly. 
Your face flushes at the slick sounds pouring from between your thighs as the prince growls against you, sounding as if he’s gaining as much satisfaction as you are. Your core clenches at the thought, pleasure threatening to consume you. 
“Daemon!” You cry urgently, shaking above him, a thin sheen of sweat covering your body. You want so badly to thread your fingers through his hair as you normally would, but you can’t even see his face around your protruding belly. 
He groans loudly beneath you once more and fucks his tongue back into you, causing the knot in your belly to pull tightly before finally unraveling. Sparks burst behind your eyelids, your back arching as your whole body tenses and relaxes in time with his movements. 
The prince moans appreciatively, messily drinking down your pleasure as you peak on top of him. You jump when one of his hands smacks against your ass, the tingling sting extending your release, the intensity of it nearly making you go mad. 
Finally, once your signs of relief have turned into whimpers of overstimulation, Daemon releases you with a pleased hum, helping you shuffle back down his body until you’re straddling his hips once again. 
You laugh softly at the sight of him — his cheeks flushed a light pink, hair sticking up at odd angles, and a pleased, self-satisfied grin on his face. 
“You look as if you were the one who was ravished, my dragon,” you tease, your heart rate slowly returning to normal as you trace over the muscular dips in his chest and stomach.
The prince chuckles lowly, his violet eyes still dark with lust as he takes in your curves. “Ravishing you is a pleasure in and of itself, sweet wife,” he drawls, smirking as you gasp at the feel of his cock against your sensitive core as he rolls his hips against you, “I trust you’ll allow me to feel it again?” He asks, that all too familiar cocky tone back, as if asking is merely a formality. 
Sighing happily, you bite your lip as you stare down at him, the knot in your belly beginning to tighten again as you feel his length pressing hotly to you. 
“I believe that can be arranged.”
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tagged lovelies: @helloworldiamnotarobot @drakonflames @marysucks-blog @watercolorskyy @valeskafics @iamaegontargaryenwife0 @aemshaircare @1997babyyyy @lovellies @little-moonbeam-666 @blackswxnn @alerisc @fan-goddess @wickedfrsgrl @moonriseoverkyoto @echos-muses @schniiipsel @avidreader73 @marvelescvpe @imawhorecrux
(tags are based on your answers to my google form; if you were mistakenly tagged, please contact me & update your answers on the form! thank you!)
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unluckiestmember · 5 months
Note
can I get the main characters of blue eye samurai with a innocent fem reader? I loved your Arcane innocent reader <3
Coming right up!
Blue Eye Samurai X Innocent Fem! Reader
Characters: Mizu, Taigen, Ringo and Ito Akemi
Tags: Friends to lovers, workers to lovers, brothel, overprotective boyfriend/girlfriend, yandere themes, Ringo being Ringo, fluff, toxic(?) and open ending.
Warning: SFW
A/N: I'm so happy Blue Eye Samurai is getting the recognition it deserves! Who would you date? I'd get with Mizu or Taigen.
Mizu
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“The stars are out tonight?... I can barely see them… It’s okay. At least I can see you… You’re beautiful…”
At first, Mizu found you to be as annoying like Ringo. You weren’t as annoying, but it was infuriating to travel with someone who was so fragile and couldn’t even defend themselves. She was surprised that with your demeanor you weren’t in a brothel or married to the next idiot of a samurai. She kept you at a distance, arm's length. But someway. Somehow. You slithered into her good graces and touched her heart.
When you two became a couple, Mizu began to treat you like a porcelain doll. If a man tried to touch you, their hand would be severed from their body in seconds. If someone bad-mouthed you, their tongue was cut out. Suddenly, you found yourself becoming a precious jewel to Mizu instead of a nuisance. During down time, she always checks up on you to see if you’re okay. Expect her to check if you have a temperature, if you’re hungry or thirsty. She wished deep down she could give up her mission to live a perfect life with you because that’s what you deserve. But promising such a thing is hard. At least for now, she has you and she will savor the time you both have together.
Taigen
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“That was pretty cool, huh? You know I can teach you a thing or two if you say please… Haha! You’re cute when you pout!”
Unlike Mizu, Taigen found you to be a breath of fresh air on his journey to assist Mizu. He enjoyed how you were so pure in a world that was getting colder by the day. For a second, he was fearful of pursuing anything with you because of his relation to Akemi. But as the days went by and word started spreading fast of his lover’s affairs, the more Taigen lost hope in any future he could have with her. However, he gained hope in a future painted for you two.
Taigen is a mix of a man child and an amazing boyfriend when you two become a couple. He will tease you whenever you are being cute unintentionally or when you mess up doing something. It’s only because he loves your reactions to his commentary. He will also teach you how to protect yourself, preferably with a dagger. If you master using one, he’ll have you use a sword, but even then he’ll be a bit concerned it’s too much for you. On the battlefield, if he’s not showing off and winking at you after every kill, he’s quick to protect you from any harm. Let’s admit it. Taigen can be a pain in the ass. But he’s a great boyfriend.
Ringo
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“You really think I can be a great samurai?! Then I’m going to train hard for both of us- I’ll be the greatest samurai for me and you!”
Ringo is a sweetheart. He didn’t expect to go on this journey to end up with a girlfriend, so when he scored one with you, you can imagine his surprise. He didn’t think much at first admittedly, but the more you kissed his cheek, nuzzled into his body on cold nights and threw him words of endearment, the more it settled. And boy did he adore having the title of being your amazing boyfriend!
With someone now to take care of, Ringo pushes himself to be an amazing samurai. He’s more persistent with his master to teach him how to use a sword and possess honor. He’ll even go as far as to ask Taigen to assist him if he can! Whenever he learns something new, he’s excitedly telling you all about it. If he finds anything interesting, he’s grabbing you gently to share it with you. If you’re looking for a ball of sunshine who’s both your friend and partner, look no further than Ringo.
Ito Akemi
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“My darling. We will make our own path, away from this prejudice, these men- Everything that’s ever hurt us. That’s ever hurt you… You will never be hurt again. I swear it.”
Akemi knows all too well how it feels to be used and thrown away for your body if not your status. So when she met you at the brothel, she immediately clicked with you. She found your personality to be contagious along with your laughter. She spent every moment staring into your eyes filled with life, gently caressing your smooth skin just to make sure you were still there with her in this hell. You were the most beautiful flower she’s ever seen. You were a flower she couldn’t afford to be tainted.
She didn’t know why she fell for a woman or if it was a curse, but she loved you. She loved you enough to run away and spend as much life as she could with you until she was found by her father. But even then, nothing could hold her down. She was a princess who laid eyes on a commoner she wanted. That she needed. And no one would get in her way of having them. Of having you. She would destroy everything and bathe Japan in flames if it meant she could keep you in her warm embrace. She’d turn everyone into her enemy if you could be her lover. She’d be the villain if you were her savior… And that’s exactly what she was going to do.
If you got any requests for Blue Eye Samurai, send them my way!
Likes and retweets are always appreciated! I love you all, stay hydrated and have a good day! <3
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daycourtofficial · 2 months
Text
A Valentine for You
Summary: Nyx learns about making valentines at school and convinces you to make one that accidentally ends up in Azriel’s hands
Author’s note: doesn’t this sound adorable any plot with Nyx is sure to be the cutest thing ever also this might just be the fluffiest thing I’ve ever written happy valentine’s day babes hope you all enjoyed my valentine’s fics 💕
Warnings: none, sentient house ships you with Azriel
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Nyx came bounding down the stairs, yelling your name as he came in, his wings flapping as fast as his legs. He wasn’t quite large enough to support his weight, but he could get a little extra spring in his step as he ran.
He ran straight into your arms, launching himself into your torso. You laugh at the boy, his backpack comically large on his small frame.
“How was school, Nyxie?” You ask, carrying him into the kitchen. He wraps his arms around your neck as you start to grab the plate of cookies you had hidden earlier. The two of you start munching on cookies, and he gets the entire front of his shirt covered in cookie crumbs. You wipe them off, trying to clean him a bit.
“We learned about Valentine’s day.”
“And what did you learn about it?” You ask, pinching his cheeks.
He swats at your hands, “I don’t know it’s about love and stuff, but I made these cards for everyone.”
He wiggles out of your grasp, putting his bag in the ground to rummage through it. He pulls out a stack of cards, each one colorfully doodled and covered in varieties of glitter, bead, and macaroni noodle the world has never seen.
He shows you each card, going through the message he wrote for each person. You caught a glimpse of one that he snatched away and said, “no peeking! That’s for you!”
“And this one is for Uncle Cassian - I wrote ‘be better’ because he always tells me that.”
You stifle a laugh at the ominousness of receiving a valentine from a child that just tells you to be better, but he continues.
“And this is my one for - wait, where’s my card for uncle Az?”
He frantically searches through the pile, and then moves towards his bag to rifle through it again in hopes of finding it.
Tears start lining his eyes, concern that his favorite uncle will feel unloved on Valentine’s Day for not receiving a card from him.
“Hey, Nyx, how about we make one now, yeah?”
Nyx sniffles, but his wings perk back up, “yeah. Will you make one for him too? It’ll be extra special if he gets one from you!”
You stall, “I haven’t written one in a long time, Nyx. What do I do?”
“My teacher said you can put your feelings in it and your wish will come true! That’s why I asked auntie Nesta to fight with the Valkyries.”
Nyx has no idea of your minor crush on his uncle, how every look of his is burned into your soul. You also can’t deny his little request, so you decide to make one and just destroy it later in the evening. Your crush on him was getting embarassing, and you knew it wouldn’t lead anywhere.
You find yourself writing an incredibly heartfelt valentine, pouring all of your feelings onto the page. You even write Az’s name on the cover of the heart shaped paper. You’re ready to burn it in the fire and make a new one that just says “happy valentine’s day”, when Nyx spills his juice all over the table and on himself.
He starts gettjng upset, a little boy who hates being dirty, every inch his father in that regard, and you rush to pick him up and whisk him away to bathe him.
Unbeknownst to you, while you’re bathing Nyx (and he cries anyway about being wet), Azriel walks into the townhouse, finding the heart shaped paper on the table. Seeing that it’s addressed to him, he assumed it was from his nephew. He had been making valentines for everyone at school, and Azriel was curious if he would make one for his uncle. He knew the little boy was saving it for the holiday, but he couldn’t resist looking inside to see what the card says.
The card in front of him is leagues better than anything Nyx could make, not just in quality but in the content inside.
Hi Az,
Nyx explained to me how they make valentine’s cards in school and how you’re supposed to declare your love, so here I am, a girl in a valentine, wishing desperately you felt the same way about me. Maybe I should give up on this hope you’ll share my devotions.
But hey, I need to get it out, so here it is. I am hopelessly in love with you, will you be my valentine?
He scrutinizes the signature on the bottom, certain that one of his brothers forged it in an attempt for him to confront his feelings.
His heart is soaring at your words at the end, but it quickly fills with dread as he rereads and rereads your words.
“Maybe I should give up on my devotions”?
He can’t let you get over him, not when he’s been trying so hard for the past few months to just tell you how he feels, each time the words unable to come out. The past month every time the two of you had been alone, the words would creep onto his tongue, begging to be let out, but he would shove them down, deep where no one could hear them.
He tucks the card into his jacket, trudging up the stairs to begin plotting his response.
The bath with Nyx pushed the valentine from your mind, but the thought of the card invaded all of Azriel’s thoughts as he paced through his room that night, trying to plan out his next move.
-
Most of the holiday goes by uneventfully. You enjoy walking the street of Velaris, seeing the hustle and bustle of males and females alike trying to find a gift for their beau.
The streets are filled with flowers, money exchanging hands. Most customers leave with at least one bundle of flowers, one female leaving with as many bundles as she can carry.
Your mind races with thoughts of Azriel, wondering if he was doing anything this holiday. In recent years you can’t think of him having any plans, in fact the past three or four he had spent the holiday with you.
You wander home to the House of Wind, moving through the house to drop your market finds off in your bedroom. You come to your room, finding an envelope underneath a rose on your vanity. You walk over, smelling the rose and it smells both flowery and like cedar. The scents linger on the card as well, as you pull it out from the envelope.
You’re expecting a card from Nyx, because he refused to show you your card yesterday, but instead you find your name delicately written on the front of the card in Azriel’s tiny, near script.
You sit in a chair, opening the card to find the entire page full of words.
Dearest,
It’s the holiday of love. New love, old love, rekindled love. I have been trying for weeks on end to get the words out, but I find no excuses holding them back today.
I yearn for you. I yearn for our stolen moments in crowded rooms, I yearn for your gaze meeting mine, a conversation without words, just the colors of our eyes mixing.
My favorite day of the week is Sunday, because I pretend like I haven’t spent the whole week in anticipation of being next to you on the couch in the library. We spend the afternoon reading, discussing our books aloud. Eventually you settle more and more into your seat, your legs stretching across my lap.
I will pretend it is casual for me to place my hand on your calf, as if I am not calculating every movement so as not to scare you. My favorite Sundays are when you fall asleep while reading, because I know you feel safe enough with me to put all your faith into me that I will keep you safe while you slumber.
I know the worst parts of myself, the parts that so many would find difficult to put up with. And yet you have shown nothing but kindness to those parts.
My heart is yours, and if that means only getting glimpses of a life with you, I will cherish them for all time.
Eternally yours,
Azriel
You are awestruck at the words in front of you. You read the card several times, soaking in the cadence of his words, hearing the words in his deep voice.
Mor and Feyre had been trying for months to get you to say something, and a flicker of annoyance passes through you thinking about how vindicated they’d feel at this card.
You jump up, thinking why the hell am I sitting here when a male just confessed his undying love for me? He yearns for me, and you him. You fling open the door, only to find that someone, you assume Azriel, scattered a line of rose petals from your room down the hall.
You follow it, leading you in a trail directly to the library where you and Azriel have spent so many nights staying up, neither of you wanting to leave the other’s company.
You open the doors to find the room covered in flowers. Daisies on roses on lilies, their colors creating no matching scheme. Reds, blues, whites, purples fill your eyes until they land on hazel.
“Hi,” you tell him, all the bravado from the note he left leaving you as you stand in front of him.
“Hi,” he whispers, stepping towards you. Nerves coat that one word, and he clears his throat, willing his voice strong and steady. “Did you get my card?”
You smile, eyes lighting up, “um yes, yes I did. It was lovely, thank you.”
Your mind can’t think of anything else to say. He professed his love for you and all you can do is thank him? Your feet move forward on their own, but your mouth opens again.
“I never knew you were so talented with words.”
The two of you are drawing closer to each other, magnets coming together.
“You got to read my three hundredth draft, so I hope it was worth the read. I’ve never had to resort to such words before, never thought anyone deserved them.”
You breathe in, his scent invading your system. His words a clanging in your mind. “I-um, are these for me?”
You gesture to all the flowers filling the room, unable to linger on his words of devotion, and he chuckles, “yes, they are.”
You make eye contact once again, “they are beautiful, thank you.”
This is uncharted territory, unknown lands. You don’t know what to say, what he wants to hear.
“They reminded me of you.”
Your eyes peer into his, sincerity looking back at you in a midst of hazel and gold. You think of his words in the letter, his sign off eternally yours, and ask the question you’ve been wondering since you began reading the letter the first time.
“Did you mean it?”
You wring your hands in front of you, looking down in fear of seeing rejection in his eyes. You don’t notice him step closer until he’s taking your hands, holding them gently in his own.
“Every word. I have more words, but I thought those got my point across well enough. I was inspired, actually.”
One of his hands removes itself from yours, but his other hand quickly moves to hold both of your hands. He pulls a familiar red card from his jacket, and your cheeks turn the same shade as the card in mortification.
You start opening and closing your mouth like a fish, shock and confusion making words impossible.
“How did you- where did you-what-“ is all that’s able to come out before he’s chuckling and cutting you off.
“I found it on the table yesterday.”
You gasp, “I had to bathe Nyx and I forgot all about it!”
He places the card back into his jacket pocket, his eyes not leaving yours as he moves.
“Did you mean it?”
It’s his turn to be insecure, to be nervous. Vulnerability was not something the shadowsinger did lightly, and he knew your answer could destroy him.
“Every word. I have more, if you want them.”
Echoing his own words back to him, he smiles.
“I’ll take every word you give me as gospel,” he tells you, inching closer to you.
“Kiss me.”
He cups your face, your hands pressing against his chest. His lips gently brush your own, tentative, gentle. You put your hand on the back of his neck, deepening the kiss. He responds immediately, moving his hands around your back to pull you into him.
You’re panting, your lungs wanting air but the rest of your body wanting him. The room is loud with the sounds of your lips connecting and reconnecting, breathy moans escaping from both of you.
You have no idea how long you’re swept up in kissing him until your brain begins working again, and a question comes to mind. You pull away from him, a groan leaving him as you do so. You only make it a few inches from his lips when you find the words.
“How did you get all of these in here without my noticing? Also what if I had come in here before my room?”
The whole time you were talking, his gaze is focused on your mouth, and he even moves forward slightly, as if the urge to kiss you was overwhelming him. Once you finish speaking he kisses your lips again before answering. “You almost caught me in the city, but I hid behind a massive bundle of sunflowers. And I may or may not have asked the house to lock the doors for you.”
To reiterate his point the house locked and unlocked the doors behind you.
“How’d you do the rose petals?”
“What rose petals?” He asks, the question breaking his eye contact with your mouth
“There were rose petals lining the hallway, telling me to come here.”
“I thought you knew to come here because of the letter.”
Confusion lines both of your faces until the house dumps a giant pile of rose petals onto the two of you.
You both laugh at the message the house was sending, and you laugh even further as Azriel begins kissing you and the house makes a big deal of locking the doors again.
You both laugh as you kiss him again, and he picks you up, laying you down on the bed of rose petals before lying on top of you.
“Who knew the house was such a romantic?”
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neteyamsilly · 1 year
Text
i will soften every edge, hold the world to its best | 2
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summary ;; Your burning determination to prove your father wrong and Jake's wish to teach you a lesson both end up in a pyrrhic victory. PART 1 | PART 3 pairings ;; dad!jake sully x reader, mom!neytiri x reader, sully family x reader genre ;; pure angst and family feels notes / explanations ;; im speechlessly overwhelmed at the sheer amount of love you guys showed me these past couple of days. like. literally never had something like this happen to me before. i got too excited to finish this chapter to give back to yall, there was an attempt to proofread but... i hope it's not too bad, please enjoy! as always, if you see any mistakes, im sorry!
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The path further into the floating mountains was all the worse to navigate thanks to the lack of light, the only useful guides you had were the faintly flickering bioluminescent lights from the forest deep below. The branches twisting around each other to create a naturally built bridge from mountain to mountain benefited from this, contrasting as a clear obscured line to your eyes against the glow underneath. 
The easiest part of your journey, in hindsight, was just skipping along this line. 
You weren’t exactly happy about this.  
The more you left behind, the more you were freaked out that Neteyam or anyone else was onto your intentions already and hot on your trail right this moment. Imagining father making a beeline to you in the air with Bob, a cruel, merciless whistling arrow, made you all jittery and almost puking kind of nervous, pulling at the depths of your stomach. 
Your rationality told you that it was a half an hour walk to your spot from the tent, and Neteyam would be hurrying the more he thought he wasn’t able to catch up with you along the way, so you had around twenty minutes until the whole family was panicking and raising the clan to look for you. 
Tuk had gone missing once thanks to some hide and seek game with Lo’ak (she’d hidden so well and was waiting for her siblings to find her already, blindly sticking to the game for an entire day, not out of stubbornness but childish purity), and this was exactly what had gone down —
the resentful part of you questioned if father thinks of you highly enough to resort to that. 
If something happened to you, he would maybe urge your brothers to search for you for a while, and drop it then — leaving you to your own devices happily. 
Maybe. 
Were you even worth it in his eyes for a search party? You wondered if he cared enough that you disappeared. 
But that was a stupid, childish thought you knew you fantasized about a lot — perhaps this was why he’d called you immature. This was no mindset for a strong, independent, confident hunter. The thought father was right, even a miniscule bit was bitter on your tongue, worse than what he called black coffee. 
Disappearing so you’d find out just how much he cared was unfair to mom, for one. 
She had lost so much in such a short amount of time, the stories she sang poignantly about were hard to listen to without tearing up. Her home. The trees of voices, all the lost ancestors. Her father. Uncle Tsu’tey. Her first ikran, Seze. Loss upon loss you think there’d be nothing left to give anymore, but sky people’s fire was always hungry, always willing to waste more to grow bigger. 
You wouldn’t forgive yourself for making her cry in your pursuit to punish father. Never. 
You weren’t a child.
Just wanted to be one, sometimes.
Wanted father to babytalk you, pet your head longer than a passing touch as he walked away hurriedly to attend to other matters, make beads for your braids the way he always did from pretty stones he found on ponds, carve you little trinkets when you graciously had to give up your toys to Lo’ak and Kiri’s greed. 
Your neck piece was all them in fact, he’d see it if he ever paid enough attention, or perhaps it was all insignificant to him, five kids meant countless belongings for each individual child had been passed down from his hands, it would be a miracle for father to recognize you still wore his clumsy creations. But again, it had been too long since he’d even looked at you affectionately, he wouldn’t See. 
He’d transferred those habits entirely to Neteyam at one point in time. 
Your older brother would always ruffle Lo’ak’s hair and tease him the way father used to, comfort him in his own playful way, and even though the younger looked discontent at being babied, you knew he was happy Neteyam was quite literally his shadow to look after him through tough times — including shielding from father’s line of fire. In return, he was suffering from being a foil to the older son, you understood the struggle because you were going through the same comparison, you just weren’t obsessed with catching and living up to father as much as Lo’ak did. 
Win some, lose some, I guess.
Plus, Neteyam was trembling under the massive planet-weight pressure, he had to set the standard, he had to live up to the older brother title. He was becoming more of a father figure to Tuk as days passed and the Olo’eyktan became more transparent from his family’s life as a dad to five. 
Besides, Lo’ak made trouble enough for two people to go around that you felt bad for your big brother, Kiri was thankfully more mellow (despite frequently hanging out together with him and Spider) compared to him that Neteyam could breathe, not having to divide his attention. 
You were in awe of her about how disconnected she was from all the changing dynamics. She had her own problems you could never understand, more spiritual than your grandmother, and ever the ethereal soul who you thought would disappear into Eywa if flesh wasn’t holding her down to Eywa’eveng.
You were the teeniest, tiniest bit jealous of her (and Tuk) holding the softer sides of father, the boys thought he was deliberately softer because they were girls — but you were also a girl, so why weren’t you allowed in?   
Well, thanks to that, you’d gotten closer with Neteyam and known him better after the whole clan had settled on High Camp, so it wasn’t all that bad. You could badmouth father all day long sitting on some rock and make him laugh abashedly, guilty that he was smiling along with the trashing of the father’s name he respected so much — it was therapy, as Norm had taught humans frequently sought back on earth. It got you trying some things with Neteyam, becoming more of a companion and ranting buddy for him who he could be honest and open with, so that he didn’t have to worry about taking up a larger role in your life to fill father’s missing presence. You were concerned about him more than he could be concerned about you. 
That got you contemplating if father had noticed how comfortable his two oldest children were with each other that it was always Neteyam who he sent after you. A girl could dream, no? For one moment, it wasn’t because it was Neteyam’s responsibility, but because father was paying attention to how his kids got along.
The image of him pushed you to be frantically fast to reach your destination as the fear returned with might. If he caught you right now when you had no ikran to prove him wrong, the punishment he was sure to give would be way more humiliating, you at least wanted something in your name to taunt him with if you were going down anyways. 
A smile crept up your face at imagining him discombobulated and speechless, unable to pick out one thing that you did wrong. 
The carelessness that came with your speed combined with how dark it was to see where to clutch and put your feet on caused you to slip up countless times when climbing, the sharp rocks scraping the insides of your palms and insides of your forearms, lifting your skin up. What you cared about more than the pain was that the blood was now tracking material for your family to sniff you out — you couldn’t exactly wipe the rocks clean, so you carried on with a hammering heart, more afraid of father ruining your perfect moment than whatever ikran that would soon be going straight for your throat. 
At least you were able to wash the blood off your hands in the waterfall. 
Downside? You couldn’t see shit. With your bare back flushed straight to the wall of rock and your feet feeling out the thin edge, the shrill cry of ikrans and the roaring of water was about to overwhelm your senses too much to pay attention — 
and you slipped. 
The shriek that ripped out of you at the sensation of falling and the drop of your stomach alone almost made you pass out, and for a split second it was a good thing that you wouldn’t feel the moment you died, but your body, once again, was one step ahead of you, it twisted in the air the last second and your hands gripped the ledge. 
The wet rock and your blood made all that your life was hanging on slippery as you dangled into the abyss, swaying with the strong winds at this height. 
You didn’t know if it was the adrenaline or the nervousness, but something made you laugh out loud, and the bubbling laughter continued until you were able to pull yourself up safely at the ikran rookery, finally. 
Looking around like a fish out of water, how you hadn’t cracked your skull open shooting down to the forest below was a total miracle. 
You’d made it?  
No one was there to witness what you just pulled off in total darkness. Your whole body was shaking, and you weren’t even chosen by an ikran yet. This was happening. Shit. This was totally happening! 
Your excited and terrified, “Hell yeah!” went unheard apart from your aerial crowd. 
But. 
One among them answered your holler with its own that cut into the night like a battle horn. It was the closest one to you that was apparently watching you the whole time, starting to roar at you and twitching on its feet, shadow in the night informing you of its movements.
You’d seen from Neteyam and Lo’ak’s iknimayas that you only had a few seconds to pull your shit together until it attacked, this was meant to be dangerous, serious, you could end up as a late night snack to them if things went wrong, but you couldn’t stop grinning from ear to ear that it had chosen you.
You were chosen. 
It wanted you as its rider. 
If only father could see you now. The sensation of being the one — being special was unmatched. Now you could somehow get the fraction of the high he must have felt as Toruk Makto.  
The, “Let’s fucking go!” that left you kept echoing into the night as you lunged at it, dodging to the left when it snapped at your head, hooking one arm around the ikran’s slender neck and clamping your legs around it the moment it started thrashing around wildly. 
You didn’t know why father had made a big deal out of it. You formed tsaheylu in no time, breaking Neteyam’s record — and you didn’t even have the rope to hoop around its neck and jaw. 
Firstborn daughter excellence. 
Confidence restored and triumphing wildly to the pulse of your heart, the flickering smile on your face in wonder turned into a full-fledged smirk. At that moment, nothing mattered. It was just you and your victory. Proving father wrong. 
Feeling the ikran’s lifeforce through the bond, a shiver went down your back as his beady eye looked up at you, pupil shrinking and expanding rapidly while you both took a minute to catch your breaths after the fierce wrestling. 
“Gotcha,” you panted. “You’re mine now.”
The adrenaline made everything sparkle and shine, your spirits soaring high and unbothered about literally anything else in the world, and for one glorious moment, lost in the memories of your brothers’ iknimayas boasting with cheers from the clan and sometimes encouraging, sometimes fearful screams of your parents, your spirit sought them out to be soaked in the same pride — forgetting that it was night and nobody was there to celebrate you. 
You were all alone. 
The smile dropped from your face and crashed down like paper thin porcelain upon the slightest movement. 
Right. 
You’d forgotten you were doing this out of spite. It snuffed every twinkle of magic away from the previously shimmering milestone of your life. 
Your ikran felt the crushing disappointment through your connection and chirped at you, almost like an excited sibling pulling on your arm to show you something, weirdly comforting. Mom’s ikran was a spitfire, but also nurturing — this one felt different somehow, you felt him bouncing from wall to wall in your head, hyperactive and cheerful.
Flying! He wanted to fly! 
The first flight sealed the bond, after all. 
You weren’t alone even if none of your family members were here to share the joy — you had your new buddy. And the drop of gravity was thrilling this time, not the terrifying chaos that had your asshole shriveling up as it was when you’d missed your step. 
The flights with mom were something you looked forward to, drying up in frequency as you aged, you’d missed the wind on your body and the greenery dancing below as you maneuvered in the air — but mom reserved nighttime rides for father only, and after the move to High Camp, the skimpering chance you could get your way if you begged cutely enough was gone too. You’d never flown at night. 
The sight was out of this world. The stars leaving a glowing trail above you, the forest pulsing with faint purple, green and blue lights underneath, everything was elevated in beauty because darkness let them shine. 
You made loops in the air with your ikran, got as high in the air as you could before your breath thinned, and scraped at the tips of trees before shooting up again, all the while laughter you’ve never screamed before bubbled out of you. 
And you were all alone. There was no mom to gleefully taunt your ikran with hers to get both of you dancing in the air. There was no father to watch on with a small smile he was fighting. There was no Neteyam to stop you from dipping too close to the ground, and no Lo’ak to challenge you to get closer to race with him — no Kiri to complain how all of you were being so childish, how stupid this was all the while she was the worst of you all, instigating all the chaos. 
No Tuk in your mom’s lap whining about you guys leaving her off the fun. 
Instead, there was the scent of a bogey in the air, snapping you out of the haze of sorrow.
When had you ventured out further into unprotected territory? 
Linked with your thought process, the ikran stopped advancing forward and started beating his wings downward to stay unmoving, you observed the surroundings to get a better feeling of where you were, and noticed this was around the old shack, artificial lights were gliding between the leaves and branches that obscured your view of just who was roaming the grounds at night, definitely not a natural part of the forest’s flora.    
Father’s voice materialized in your head, drilled into you and your siblings’ heads over and over again. If you come across any threat at all, do not engage, fall back and inform me. Got it? You call for me first.
And that split second of being afraid was your death sentence — that father would be so angry at you for your ignorance, amateurism, carelessness and idiocy that he could throw you out of the family for almost leading the demons to base simply by being there that they could figure out what direction you’d come from. That moment of weakness was enough for someone to snipe you out, and get you falling down from your ikran straight into the forest below, the cries of your new friend falling silent on your ears as you did your best to hug giant leaves to cushion your fall to the best of your ability. . 
 Barely any time was left for you to shake the disorienting motion sickness off, you couldn’t even attempt to run into the accepting, protective hands of the forest before whoever just shot at you was onto you, harshly gripping your arms and raising you up. 
Father’s gonna be so mad if he finds out. Shit, I gotta get out of this. 
But… Avatars? In full camo, armored, even. You hadn’t heard of this from anybody in camp!
“Damn! Didn’t actually think you’d be able to land the shot from all of that tree, man! Up-top!”
Two of them high-fived, you were actually going to be sick. 
Thumb between his belt and stomach, another Avatar strutted towards you. The saunter and confidence meant that he was their leader. “Now, now… What do we have here?”
“A native.” You were being pushed down on your knees, one hand being grabbed and shown like a trophy. Just how many were there? You couldn't calm yourself enough to focus! “Four fingers.”
The speaker this time was a woman. “How unusual. Those monkeys don’t leave their coven at night.” 
“Where were you flying, little bird?” The leader, a sleazy smirk on his face, leaned down to take a good look at you. “Leading away from the nest, perhaps?”
“She don’t understand, Colonel, don’t bother. Ya think Sully could ever manage teaching one word of English to those?”
“Watch how she learns in three seconds.” He yanked on your queue so hard you saw white light in this hour of darkness — and when your vision came back, a screen with your father’s face was being shoved to your face. “Jake Sully. Toruc Mactoe. Where is he?”
You screamed when he pulled with increasing strength, keeping up with the act you didn’t understand. And the state of pain and terror massively helped, contributing to you looking frantic and lost, only knowing that you were being zapped to your core. 
“Seems like I don’t need to ask you.” His fingers snapped your head back to get a good look at your earpiece, late to notice you had it on at all because of the dark. “Can directly ask the man himself.” 
All you could form to think was, ‘Father’s gonna kill me for this. He’s actually gonna kill me this time.’
You weren't terrified of what the Avatars would do to you. You were afraid of him.
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One empty shell from the reloaded machine gun flew away, tinkling hollow when it fell down, and rolled until it stopped in a small pool of water that had formed on the jagged ground of the cave systems. In the scarlet and orange glow of the campfire he’d haphazardly put together right outside of their home out of impatience after Neytiri had basically thrown him out, Jake almost mistook the liquid for blood. 
An ominous cloud of dread settled on his shoulders, a paranoia every father tended to go through.
“Big Brother, this is Devil Dog. State your status, over.”
Neteyam didn’t miss a beat to answer, thankfully. “Devil Dog, this is Big Brother. I’m still en route to Foxcove, over.”
“How much longer?”
“Ten minutes at best, sir. Over.”
What he wanted to say was how come he hadn’t met you halfway, but it was empty talk. No need to stress the boy out. “Devil Dog signing out.”
This girl was half the reason for the wrinkles on his forehead, Jesus Christ. He was basically waiting you out like a father sitting in the dark to ambush his daughter who had snuck out at night, for that single glorious moment of yeah that’s right, you got caught, after the light would come on to ruin that moment of relief of successfully making it back in. 
His mate had scolded him to be nice and understanding, a Marine was anything but, the closest he could compromise was not being as mean to you than he had to be. Sassing, “So how was your Iknimaya?” like he planned was out the window — Neytiri was spot-on to say the girl would simply give the same mean energy right back at him, and that could only mean another erupting volcano of a fight and a good night’s sleep ruined for him, overthinking where he went wrong and how else he could have salvaged the situation. 
He’d just make you tend to the ikrans for a week for some patience practice, cleaning shit for hours on a daily basis would certainly throw the temporary whim of the rite of passage hyperfixation out of your system. The possibility of you shouting you hated him was unavoidable, but Jake had to get his point across, no matter how terribly it nauseated him to hear something like that from his child. 
It was strange to remember he couldn’t care less for what people thought of him in the past. Some shithead he wouldn’t give a rat’s ass about hated Jake’s guts? Good. He was living in their head rent free, it was fun even — Neytiri too, Jake absolutely enjoyed her hating game at first. 
Being legitimately resented by his very own child, though, was a heartbreak he didn’t expect to hurt him the way it did, knocking air off his lungs the first time he heard it. A burning stab right in his heart that wouldn’t go away until he had to hear it for himself you hadn’t meant any of what you said.
Because that said hate actually stemmed from hurt Jake must have inflicted. Because you could actually despise him, and never allow him to reconnect with you again if he could ever manage to garner the courage to reach out to you — a mightier challenge than hunting Toruk in the sense it actually scared him.   
His teenage daughter. Scared him. 
Jake didn’t know what to do about it, he couldn’t even show what exactly this made him feel, too ashamed and proud for it in the first place. 
The growing distance between you and him was an uneasy, frightened bird he tried to shush and calm in his heart in favor of other pressing matters that drilled small holes in the depths of his stomach, and over time, those little holes had fused together to create one big pit with greater gravitational pull than the sun — until Jake didn’t know how to stitch them back together anymore. 
He told himself he would talk to you later, for sure. The morning after every argument, every fight, every jab from you he snapped at he would try to make amends for, definitely. 
And then he didn’t. 
“What is this, are you palulukan ambushing prey? I told you to make up with her, not prepare for hunting.”
Jake shook his head, dropping the machine gun back inside the crate. The warmed metal was some sort of consolation to his nerves. Marine habit. Always felt safer with a gun near. (Or was it the American in him?) “Neytiri,” he acknowledged, bobbing his head. “I’m just passing time.”
“What do you think will happen when she comes back and sees you waiting for her like this?”
Ah, like the old times when Jake couldn’t do one thing right in her eyes. “Yes, ma’am,” he said playfully, but with no mirth behind it, closing the crate with a muffled thunk. With nothing to do with them, one elbow went to his knee and the other hand’s fingers started a rhythm on the lid he’d just shut. 
His mate’s hand gingerly came down on his shoulder, kneading the nerves. “Just talk to her, Ma’Jake.”
“I don’t know how to,” he admitted, he covered her fingers on her shoulder with his, and she immediately held his hand back. “Don’t know what to even tell her.” He gave an exhale from the deeper, tired parts of his soul, gazing at the path leading away from their tent. “With Neteyam and Lo’ak, it’s easy. I tell ‘em what to do and they—”
Neytiri took a seat next to him, gathering their hands together. “Suffer just the same.” Jake was about to brush her off, but she didn’t relent. “What you’re doing is hurting them.”
This now was about all of their children rather than you, specifically. Neytiri was trying to get him to see the bigger picture first before moving to cover what he did wrong with each child of his, they had had this conversation countless times before. 
Here we go again, Jake thought.
“Doesn’t matter if that’s what it takes to keep them safe.”
“Does it?” Neytiri leaned in, and calmness washed over him despite the disturbing nature of what she was saying. “Does it keep them safe? Or push them to act out more, get in worse situations?”
He grimaced. “I have to—”
“You feel like you have to.” His mate shook their clasped hands, rattling his bones. “I keep my children safe with trust and honesty. Transparence, Ma’Jake. So that they listen to me when I mean it because they See me. You shut them out.” Her lips bared to show her pearly teeth as she was practically beseeching him. “You don’t get your children’s trust by treating them like a squad.”
“They trust me plenty.”
“They trust Olo’eyktan. Toruk Makto. What about their father?”
“I make sure they’re safe.” Neytiri dropped his hands with an agitated snarl, she thought they were back at the beginning again, he couldn’t make her truly understand no matter what he did. He poured his heart out through their tsaheylu everytime, but her values and beliefs were wired so differently from his at the end of the day. “I make sure they stay where I want them to stay for their own good.” Jake shook his head, his voice soft, hushed. No force behind it when Neytiri was heated in return. “One day they’ll understand.”
“They won’t if you never tell them.”
“Tell them what?” Jake asked. “That I’m being harsh on them to prepare them for war? You think they’ll take it seriously after this?”
“Na’vi were in war long before you. There will be wars after you. No parent sullied his child’s happiness for the price of becoming a warrior. You still don’t get our ways even after all these years.” 
“The sky people’s way,” Jake emphasized with his arms. “I have to teach them how they think, what they go through, so they know what they’ll be facing, okay? I can’t simply teach them by telling them.”
“You’re deluding yourself, Jake. Contradicting.” Neytiri was gentle in her cruelty, the flickering flames burned less than her amber eyes. “Tuk and Kiri are getting none of this. I know your heart isn’t allowing you. Why can’t you do the same for your other children?”
Because he had gone too far already with the older three. 
Trial and error. 
He couldn’t take back the things he did and say back — and quite honestly? Jake was being pulled from all sides to sit down and rethink his parenting. All he thought anymore was how to protect his family, frequent nightmares of losing his children in gruesome ways were haunting his every step. 
A father protects his children, that’s what gives him meaning. 
Jake had his own desperate ways to do so.  
He opened his mouth to say something back, anything, but was interrupted by the communication line coming on. “Dad.” 
Jake immediately knew something was wrong, body sitting ramrod straight. If the frantic breathing and barely controlled voice wasn’t any indication of it, his eldest’s behavior was. Neteyam didn’t slip up in the codenames like Lo’ak did, dropped all formalities only when he was borderline panicking.  
“Dad. I’m sorry, dad, sir, I can’t find her, dad, I’ve looked everywhere around here, I thought maybe she was hiding underwater, behind rocks—but I can’t, I can’t—.”
“Slow down.” Jake could barely contain his own panic rising from the state his son was in. The boy wasn’t able to see it, but he couldn’t stop himself from leaning in as if Neteyam was right in front of him, and started gesturing with his hand. “Slow down, son.”
“Dad—”
Jake tsk-ed. “Neteyam, slow. Slow.”
Neytiri took his elbow. “What is it?”
He told her to wait with his gaze, and turned his attention back to Neteyam. This could only mean one thing, he was praying to be wrong — needed clarification. “Now tell me calmer. What’s going on?”
“She’s never been here. She never came here in the first place. There’s no sign of her. No trace. I’ve tracked.”
Jake’s instant response was fear. Domineering, ice-cold, cutting fear. Bodily and emotionally both. You were clockwork, similar to him in having unchanging routines and patterns. Angry? Went for a walk. Depressed? No talking to anyone until it passed. Happy? Wanted to go to the forest to spend time with your siblings and always craved sweet fruit. Didn’t want to be around anyone? Hid in the little bioluminescent cove with a pond two little mountains away, always. Always.  
Neytiri sensed this, observing the change of demeanor in him.“Ma’Jake?”
“Okay, son.” He seized back control. One missing child was enough. “Stay right there and don’t move. I’ll contact you.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Jake,” Neytiri hissed finally, at the end of her ropes.
“She didn’t go to the cove,” he said, face icy neutral as always, but his eyes showed dizzying concern. Neytiri put a hand on her mouth as Jake wasted no time in changing channels. “Night Owl, this is Devil Dog. Come in.” He couldn’t even wait two seconds before trying again. “Night Owl, what is your status? Where are you?” 
Silence.
The more fear dug deeper into his skin, the more his anger and annoyance soared up, his tail was whipping the air erratically, the finger on the earpiece could send the metal right into his brain with how hard he was pressing on it. “I know you can hear me. This is no time for playing games. You know what you did to your brother? Do you know how panicked he was, not being able to find you—” 
Then Jake remembered what Neytiri advised, he didn’t change strategies because she was right next to him to dig his eyes out, but because his heart was picking up its pace by the second. “Tell me where you are, I’ll leave you alone, I promise, alright? If you’re somewhere open, get to safety, I’m only asking this from you. Or else—”
“Don’t.” Neytiri raised a warning finger at him, voice just above a whisper so they could hear their daughter if she decided to cut in. “Threaten her.”
He couldn’t stop her from snatching the communication device off of him. “Ma’ite, it’s mom. Can you talk to me at least?”
His ears twitched at picking up on you responding, not quite making out the words.  
Jake’s eyes shut close for a long time as his whole eyebrow line migrated upwards, he physically had to get a few steps between him and the earpiece so the obliviating worry that’d almost blinded him wouldn’t cause him to say something he’d greatly regret later. He could feel himself deflating. A migraine could be coming anytime soon.
You wouldn’t even acknowledge his existence but the moment your mother interrupted, you did? Fine. Fine. He didn’t care. Jake could live with it. At least you were alive.
A rippling shudder shook him the moment that thought hit him, an image of you lying dead in a ditch, pale blue, flashing in his mind, he had to run a hand down his face. 
When Jake looked back, irked by the silence, he found Neytiri standing completely stock-still. And all of a sudden, her petrifying glare was on him, ears pinned all the way back, hands gradually starting to tremble. 
“Neytiri?” 
She wordlessly handed him the device, and with a deep frown, Jake put it back in his ear. 
“Hi there Corporal, you hear me? Yeah, I know you do. As much as I’m charmed by the fatherly love I could give you a big old sloppy wet kiss, we have unfinished business.”
And the ground disappeared right under Jake’s feet, plunging him into hell itself.
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kingkatsuki · 9 days
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— when you get him a birthday cake
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Masterlist.
It’s been a while and this has sat dusty and half-finished in my drafts for months, so Happy Birthday, Bakugou.🥺
Warnings: none. Pure fluff, not proofread.
Pairing: Bakugou Katsuki x f!reader.
Word Count: 1.7k.
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Bakugou had never really celebrated his birthday, at least not since he was a child. Far too old for children’s party games and toys (although he’d still scour the internet for vintage All Might action figures as a gift to himself, because those most definitely weren’t toys).
But the thing that irritated him more than anything about his special day was the fact that everyone else seemed far more excited about it than him. Masses of texts from his friends, messages online and an influx of gifts from fans all trying to wish him a very Happy Birthday. News outlets and media suddenly in talks with his PR team to try and get an interview with him on the actual day; when truth be told he’d have agreed to it if they’d offered the day before. The tower of paperwork he was trying to work through had become tiresome and he was hoping for a distraction.
How was it that the world seemed more excited about his Birthday than the Number Two hero was himself?
Heaving a sigh as he stopped the incessant blaring of his phone alarm before wincing through tired, narrowed eyes at the bright light of his phone. The screen completely covered in well wishes that seemed to have started when the clock struck twelve. A few trying to coax him out after work for drinks and to celebrate, those he swiftly ignored. It wasn’t until he scrolled down to a message from Mina practically threatening him to go out that he groaned low and deep in his chest; how was it that his friends were trying to dictate how he spent his birthday every damn year? He’d be happy with a bowl of noodles from his favourite hole in the wall and maybe a slice of cake from the quaint bakery he liked to frequent on Sundays. Now he was going to have to stay up late, and probably carry an inebriated Kirishima home.
By the time he’d made it into the office, Bakugou had put his phone onto do not disturb. Sick of the constant stream of messages that didn’t seem to dissipate. Another thing to add to the list of things that irked him about his special day— and he hadn’t even received the call from his Mother yet. Less of a call to send him well wishes, and more an excuse to remind him that he’s another year older and still painfully single and she’s still without a grandchild. Running a palm down the length of his face as he stepped into the elevator to take it up to his floor.
“Good morning, Dynamight,” You smiled from your desk as he walked past, “And happy birthday.”
“Thanks.” He rasped gruffly in response, it was the first time he’d used his voice all morning.
“I left you a coffee on your desk.”
God, you really were the best part about his day.
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You were apprehensive when Bakugou walked by with a heavy set frown across is brow. It wasn’t unusual for him to be grumpy this early in the day, the Pro was definitely not a morning person— but he seemed even more annoyed today. And you were positive the influx of gifts that waited for him by the copier would only serve to irritate him more. Especially when a US limited edition All Might figure he’d ordered from overseas as a gift to himself had still not been delivered. Grimacing when you’d checked the tracking when you woke up this morning and noticed it sat in an airport postal office on the outskirts of Kawasaki; you knew he wouldn’t be happy.
And that’s why you were even more nervous for him to see the gift you’d left sitting on his desk. A gift that definitely couldn’t compare from the small fortune he’d spent on himself.
It was difficult thinking about the perfect gift to get a man that could buy himself anything he wanted, even more difficult when the man happened to be your boss. Any time you looked through shop windows at the various fragrances, gift sets and jewellery everything felt too ostentatious, too intimate. Putting down a garish tie that you wondered why you’d even thought about buying, and settling on a single purchase of an All Might themed birthday card you were certain was for children as you decided to make him something instead.
“What the fuck is this?” You heard Bakugou shout from his office and you felt your heart rattle against your ribcage.
Standing from your desk to open the parted door to see him standing in front of your gift. The All Might card already open and displayed on top of his desk as his attention now sat on the open white box that he’d unwrapped.
“It’s uh— a cake.” You smiled softly.
Bakugou raised a brow at your answer as he directed his gaze back to the cake that sat on top of his desk. Three tiers of soft sponge covered in a vibrant orange icing, with black lines decorating it to replicate the crosses that sat against his chest on his hero costume. You’d never claimed to be a baker, the cake nothing like the one you could’ve probably picked up from Bakugou’s favourite bakery. You knew the exact cakes he enjoyed too, but when googling recipes none seemed to be close to your level or expertise.
And what made it worse is the dessert had not travelled well on your morning commute. Holding tightly onto the box while you contended with the Musutafu rush hour had meant that the tiers had now begun to slide out of place as the cake sat leaning inside its box, now looking rather pathetic.
“A cake?” He repeated, his eyes glancing back down at the vanilla sponge that had a messy attempt of ‘Happy Birthday Dynamight’ scrawled across the top. The piping bag had not been kind to you when you attempted the design, wishing the text looked more like your handwriting and less like you’d baked with a four year old. Which was probably what your boss was thinking right now as he stared down at the sweet treat.
“I’m sorry,” You felt your cheeks burn, “I thought it would be a nice idea—”
“Did you make it yourself?” Bakugou asked, although it was clear that you had. Any shop that would dare to even attempt to sell a monstrosity like this should be shut down.
“Well, yeah,” You hovered in place, “I tried to follow the recipe, and I thought it was going well, but I think I put too much buttercream on, and I’m not very good at piping—”
You found yourself rambling, and it just made you feel worse. Reaching over to flip the cardboard lid back over it to take it away and shield yourself from any further embarrassment.
“Are you not going to have some with me?” Bakugou stopped you from closing the lid completely, his crimson eyes full of sincerity.
“Cake for breakfast? It’s not even nine am—”
“So?” He scoffed, “It’s my birthday. If I can’t have cake for breakfast today then what’s the fuckin’ point? Unless you’re trying to kill me—”
“No!” You wanted the ground to swallow you whole, “Does it really look that bad?”
You looked down at the sad, pathetic excuse of a cake. Hard to see all the time, energy and love that went into it when it drooped so pitifully.
“It looks like shit.” He smirked.
“I should’ve just bought one,” You sighed, remembering how pretty all the cakes had been on the online websites you were going to order from before you had the brilliant idea to bake one yourself. Hell, even the cute little cupcakes in the coffee shop you went to each morning looked better than this.
“Nah,” Bakugou shook his head, “It’s perfect.”
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It was noon by the time Bakugou had decided to pick the phone up to answer one of his mothers numerous calls to him, eyeing the voicemails that she’d left which no doubt chastised him for not picking the phone up. He’d delete those later.
“Katsuki—” Her voice already had him closing his eyes and rubbing his temple as he settled back in his desk chair. Still better than paperwork— “How hard is it for a mother to wish her son a happy birthday. Don’t you forget that I’m the one who birthed you—”
“Yeah, yeah, Ma. I’m sorry,” He sighed, “Work’s been kickin’ my ass.”
“You shouldn’t be working on your birthday, anyway!” She continued, “Why don’t you take the rest of the day off?”
“I’ve got too much to do.” He didn’t. The paperwork could wait, and he didn’t have a patrol scheduled this week. His sidekicks eager to find their own positions in the hero rankings so they’d picked up all the available slots, leaving Bakugou in his office.
“All you ever do is work anymore, Katsuki.” She continued, “When are you coming to visit? Your father says he hasn’t heard from you in weeks.”
“I’ll come by soon.” Maybe. He thought.
“You should be spending less time working and more time settling down. You’re not a young man anymore, Katsuki.” Here it comes, “And I want grandchildren while I can still chase after them!”
He scoffed. Even when he was a child Mitsuki still hadn’t been able to catch up with him, but the thought of her running around after his kids had an unfamiliar warmth swirling in his chest.
“It must be lonely, son,” She continued, and for once he stopped to think about it.
“There is someone, Ma—” Bakugou smiled as his eyes looked towards the half eaten cake that sat on the edge of his desk.
If he could ever tell you.
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I've been reading a lot of Korean isekai webcomics lately and given me an idea of being Malleus or Leona fiance who he didn't even love at all ( liked he thinks they are being too clingy or something like that but in reality they care about them and try help them out with daily tasks and try to bring something interesting to lighten the mood or the very least lift up their mood to at least feel better )
and reader taken over the body of said fiance and just like " I don't wanna get killed, or die, I have magic to help me out so I'll just run away from here " and just left him to venture out in the world maybe settle in somewhere outside of the kingdom to somewhere else in a small village to settle, and when they realize that how much their former finance care for them and realize they are no longer in the castle and looking for them
And what do they feel when they see her ( fae or beastwoman ) with a human male who made her really happy when they found her
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Manwha Mistreated Married Reader | Yandere Twisted Wonderland
It's downright unfair to be the only one trying in this arranged marriage setting. Not to mention the lack of care when it comes to hiding their growing interest in this Yuu character. Why shouldn’t you be allowed happiness with your own human, far away from the unforgiving environment of their castle? What’s worse is that they will come running and it is not to congratulate you:
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Leona Kingscholar
“What the-”
When he finally does get around to actually doing the paperwork of being a prince
He finds that he’s been sent a constant barrage of divorce material 
And then he’s reminded that he’s been married off to…someone he can’t even be bothered to remember
But he looks at the official Royal portraits of you 
And goes to search 
He wanted to see what he was working with
“Uh your majesty, they’ve been gone for over a year now.”
A year?! Already
So he reaches into the back of his mind to the memories of you 
Reporting how much of his work you did for him or how you gifted him some new pillows as a gift 
It makes him feel itchy 
So he begins an arduous search for you
Something that takes longer than he expects 
Eventually finding you working on a farm 
Clearly making goo-goo eyes at the pathetic buff farm hand
So he decides to pop your bubble, revealing that technically still married
“Oh, I know that. But they’re waitin’ on you to finalize the divorce, y’know?”
Drats
There’s nothing more he hates than watching you look longingly at each other despite being so close
But he can’t bring himself to sign his name
Preferring to instead fight for his ownership of your heart
And if he has to get dirty he doesn’t mind
It just means he’s one step closer to making you return
He wants you to come running back to him
To hang off his every word as he does now
To kiss his knuckles and tell him how good of a husband he’s been
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Malleus Draconia
“I’ve misjudged you…I’d appreciate if you returned home now.”
It's a wake-up call to have you laugh in his face when he says this
Usually, any protests would be met with his immense strength and magical prowess
But too bad his grandmother set him up with someone of near equal standing even worse better you seem to have been training
It was a past time for you as you moved into a non-descript village
All to retreat from a spouse obsessed with the first human to express any interest in him
Now forget all the times you attempted to converse with him or let him ramble about gargoyles
Only to be ignored or spat at for imitating his ‘child of man’
Well if he liked them so much he shouldn’t have minded when you wordlessly took a hiatus from the kingdom
No one seems to miss you, your presence is filled by the buzz of a human being around
But when that human leaves for home or turns in to achieve that sleep they so desperately need
He misses you
Finds even he unexpectedly snaps when his best friend reaches to sit in your chair
What strange magic…for him to wish you were present
He finds you easily 
And is surprised when you wretch in disgust when he arrives
And if you’ve taken a guardian role to some poor orphan child they copy the behavior
Constantly reminding him of your supposed dislike 
He’s not fond of this version of you at all
So he lingers like a dog kicked outside
Watching from a close distance as you live your new life
Sparking something in him as he finds you absolutely alluring at every angle
Suddenly that human’s pleas for his return become the static of something irritating
He needed you to come back and if a distraction was what was stopping you then so be it
But you’re so empathetic they might prove themselves useful as the king’s bargaining chip
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wlntrsldler · 1 month
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we can't be friends (wait for your love) | luke castellan
synopsis: where luke survives the battle of manhattan and returns to camp half blood, only to see you (his ex) in a new relationship.
based on we can't be friends (wait for your love) by ariana grande
luke didn’t plan on making it out alive from the battle of manhattan, but here he was, back in camp half blood, wishing that he succumbed to his wounds instead of fighting to stay alive. the camp was different, cold and foreign to him, even though he’d spent a good chunk of his life on the campgrounds. all his best and worst memories were made at camp half blood, but that life seemed unreachable now. at this point, luke didn’t know if the memories that he recalled were actually his or if they were just tricks kronos was still pulling on him. 
the campers knew him as the ‘traitor.’ the kids he used to help with their sword skills cowered in fear whenever he approached them. the apollo kids only tended to his wounds because they had to and even then, they glared at him and wrapped the bandages just tight enough not to cut off blood flow. the satyrs who used to slip him strawberries from their fields, spoke about him in hushed whispers whenever he walked by them. but the thing that hurt the most was seeing you walk around with theo harvey, hand in hand, just like he used to do with you. 
he didn’t have the right to be upset. it’s been years since the two of you were last together, years since he held your hand in his, kissed your lips, felt you asleep on his chest. it was before he turned into this monster with hands stained with the blood of the people he considered friends, considered family. he knew you’d move on. he told himself that he wanted you to be happy, to receive the love that you deserved, but selfishly, he knew deep down that he wanted you to have that with him– not the theo harvey, child of athena, favored by the gods. 
at first, luke thought he’d be able to make it through the summer. as far as he knew, the older kids didn’t stay at camp half blood throughout the year, but he was thoroughly disappointed when he found out that a lot of the older kids stayed to guard camp just in case something happened. luke blamed himself for his own suffering. getting used as kronos’ host hurt less than seeing your lipgloss on theo’s cheek when they sparred; or noticing that the necklace he made for you when he was 15 was replaced by the one that theo bought you; or hearing your giggles from across the campfire while theo whispered corny jokes in your ear. he did this to himself.
it made him sick to his stomach. he discreetly moved into the poseidon cabin with percy (he grew tired of his siblings falling silent every time he walked into the hermes cabin. he no longer knew how to sleep in silence because it was always loud and rowdy when his siblings were involved, but alas, that changed too). luke was scared of it at first, knowing that he was on thin ice with the gods, but percy, being percy, scoffed. 
“you already tried to dethrone them,” the younger boy joked, trying to lighten luke’s broody demeanor, “i think you staying in a cabin you’re not assigned to is on the bottom of your list of offenses.” 
“dude. too soon.” 
“my bad.” 
the trio tried their best to cheer luke up. they knew that it was probably difficult for him to come back to camp after everything, but it became clear quickly that luke’s mood was not just due to everyone at camp hating him, but rather because one person at camp wanted nothing to do with him. 
anyone who saw you and luke interact before everything went down, knew that there was something between you guys that nothing in the world could touch. none of them knew the extent of your bond until it was your voice that snapped luke out of kronos’ control. it took one word. one syllable. luke. the second he heard your voice, it was like a switch was flipped in luke’s brain. 
percy made an ill-timed joke after the dust cleared, “if y/n was all it took to bring you back, we would’ve dragged her to see you a long time ago, buddy. would’ve saved us a lot of time.” 
“percy.” 
on the way back to chb, luke revealed that he made a deal with kronos to keep you out of harm’s way. he only agreed to be kronos’ host if it meant that he would protect you, keep you away from all the bloodshed of the war. the titan agreed but underestimated your stubbornness and prowess. when you showed up to the battle of manhattan, a part of kronos knew that his plan was spoiled. 
so luke’s actions, sulking during meals, spending too many hours training, opting to be alone, made sense to them. you hadn’t so much looked in his direction since he arrived at camp half blood; not even a smile, a wave, an acknowledgment of his presence. it was painful to watch luke stare at you from across the room, longing evident on his face, only breaking his gaze when theo finally showed up to take his usual spot next to you. luke still loved you, that part was clear, but at what point was it too much? 
annabeth, who’d watched your love story unfold, and was your number one fan, was heartbroken to watch your relationship crumble. she liked theo, her half-sibling was great, but luke was her brother and as much as he messed up, she felt bad for him. you were it for luke. if luke was going to end up with someone, it was you. she always believed that it was written in the stars, crafted by the hands of fate, professed by the goddess of love herself, that in this life you and luke would prevail and when your time came to exist in the afterlife, you’d find each other in elysium. but with how things were looking, annabeth began to question her own belief system.
it happened during one of the many nights luke couldn’t fall asleep, no matter how hard he tried. he threw on one of the hoodies he left behind at camp before sneaking out of the poseidon cabin to smoke a cigarette, a habit he picked up during his days on princess andromeda. 
he saw you then, standing by the lake seemingly on patrol. he didn’t know that you’d be assigned to guard tonight. if he did, he probably wouldn’t have come out of the cabin. as much as he stared at you and scratched at his palms wanting to talk to you, he never made an effort to. he knew you well enough to know when you wanted nothing to do with someone and how you were treating him right now made your intentions very clear. 
luke was trying his best to be quiet, but he accidentally burned the tip of his thumb with his lighter and let out a hiss. you turned around immediately, sword drawn, in a fighting stance. you narrowed your eyes, trying to make out who was out of the cabins this late at night. 
“shit,” luke mumbled, stuffing his cig and lighter in his pocket. he’d been so distracted looking at you, trying to hide himself, that he didn’t notice the fire was so close to his skin. he raised his hands up, trying to show that he wasn’t looking for trouble, “i-i’ts uh, it’s just me. sorry, i didn’t mean to scare you.” 
you froze in your spot, arm slowly falling to your side. you placed your sword back in its place, walking over to him, “luke?” 
it was pathetic how the corners of his lips quirked up in a smile at the sound of his name leaving your lips. he hadn’t heard it since that day and it made a warmth spread across his chest. he wiped the smile off his face as you got close enough to see him, afraid that you’d think he was making a joke out of the situation. he stood there awkwardly as your eyes studied his face and his body, probably assessing if he was a threat. 
“hey, y/n,” your name tasted sour in his mouth. he hadn’t called you that in years, always referring to you as baby, or babe, or love, or another cringy pet name that you pretended to hate but the blush on your cheeks said otherwise. using your real name felt too formal, like you were strangers. perhaps you considered him a stranger now. the idea made luke want to disappear. “i just uh, came out to get some fresh air.”
you stayed silent, pursing your lips as you continued to stare at him. luke tried not to think about how much of a mess he looked right now. the sweater was a size too small on him, sleeves falling short on his wrists. his pajama pants were wrinkled and stained with mud where they dragged on the floor on his way to the lake. his curls were a mess on his head. he ran a hand through his hair one too many times while he tossed and turned on his cot. the bags under his eyes weren’t the most flattering and the smaller scars that had been added on his face since the battle were disgusting to look at. 
he cleared his throat, “i can go back to the cabin, i-it’s really not a big deal. i’ll just crack a window open or something.”
“where are you staying?” you asked, crossing your arms over your chest, “i know you’re not sleeping in the hermes cabin. the stolls told me you haven’t been there in days.” 
luke rubbed the back of his neck, “i’ve been staying with percy. ‘m not really welcomed in my cabin right now.” 
“i see,” you replied. 
“yeah.” 
“you need to stop it.” 
luke gulped, “stop what?” 
“staring at me,” you licked your lips before taking your bottom lip between your teeth. you scruffed the bottom of your shoes on the grass, a tell that you were feeling awkward. he was brought back to the day you confessed your feelings for him. 
you were sixteen, he seventeen, right after he returned from his quest. he’d taken you out into the woods to get away from the judgment of the campers about his failed quest. he was lying on his back, pointing out the constellations in the sky, when you got up with your hands on your back. you shyly rocked back and forth on the tips of your toes and the balls of your feet, staring down at him with a red flush on your cheeks. 
you started dragging your feet on the floor, ignoring the dirt that kicked up from your actions that stuck on the fabric of your converses. you had mumbled that you liked him and luke couldn’t believe it. he asked you to repeat yourself, louder the second time, partly because he wanted to hear it again, and partly because he thought he was hearing things. when you groaned and walked away, fully believing that he was messing with you, luke jolted from his position and ran after you. he wrapped his arms around your waist and spun you around, proclaiming his own feelings for you in between fits of giggles and kisses to your cheek. 
this scene was the opposite of that. your stare was cold and serious, needing to get this point across. luke thought you looked different. physically, you still looked like his y/n– same hair, same eyes, same lips, but the look on your face was distant. you’d never looked at him like this before, like you didn’t know him at all, like he had no place in the life you created for yourself. luke didn’t know if it hurt more to have you ignore him like you had been doing for weeks, or have you look at him like this. 
“i have a boyfriend, luke,” you sighed, “you can’t keep looking at me like that.” 
“i-i’m sorry,” he stuttered out, tears burning his eyes. “i just miss you.” 
“please don’t do that,” you whispered, turning your head away from him. luke watched you wipe your tears with your forearm and all he wanted to do was engulf you in his arms like he’d done a million times before and hold you until the storm was over. “you don’t get to say things like that to me.” 
luke rubbed his jaw, trying to keep his hands occupied, “you know i can never lie to you.” 
“i need you to lie to me this time, okay?” you refused to look at him now. “i need you to say that you don’t feel anything for me anymore.” 
“i can’t do that, y/n.” 
“i spent years loving you and you left, luke. you chose to betray us,” you placed your palms on your stomach, trying to steady yourself. you felt like you couldn’t breathe. this is why you’d been avoiding him. you knew that the minute he made his way back into your life, you’d fall on your knees, at his mercy. a part of you knew that he wouldn’t do anything like that again, but you also knew that in the off-chance that he would, you wouldn’t survive a second blow. you barely made it out alive after the first one. losing luke for a second time would ruin you. “i like theo. i’m finally learning to live without you and i can’t lose all this progress over some wishful thinking. luke, i can’t do that.” 
“it’s not wishful thinking,” luke replied, sniffling. 
“stop it!” you sobbed, turning to look at him. your tears were streaming down your face, despair and hurt clouding your eyes, “stop it, please! i’m begging you to let me go. i-i can’t have you in my life. don’t you get it? i’m tethered to you. you’re the other half of my soul. you own a piece of my heart that i can never ever get back, but i-i’m exhausted trying to fight you off.”
luke’s shoulders deflated at the sound of agony in your voice. he took a step back, mouth opening and closing as he tried to will his mind to say something, anything, in response to you. but he couldn’t. where does he even start? 
should he tell you that it was the memories with you that kept him sane all those years he was held captive? should he tell you that he visited camp half blood despite knowing that it would cause more harm than good during those years just in the hopes that he could catch a glimpse of you? should he tell you that when the corners of his vision began to blur, it was the feeling of your hands pressing against his wounds that made him fight to stay alive?
he’d stay alive just to feel your touch, warm and steady hands on his tattered skin as he’d always remembered, for a second longer. he’d use his last bit of strength to place a kiss on your knuckles, injuries be damned because he needed you to know how he felt. he’d use his last breath to tell you that you looked beautiful, bloodied and bruised, under the light of the world burning around you. he’d spend the rest of his life hated by everyone in the world just to have you glance in his direction. he’d spend his time in the afterlife in tartarus if it meant that he had a shot at rebirth, in a life where you loved him again. 
“make it easier for me and put me out of my misery,” you choked out, “you at least owe me that decency.” 
luke knew that he was difficult to love. his mom went crazy because she loved him. his dad abandoned him because he was too much. thalia hated him because of who he had become. annabeth still flinched when percy made jokes about kronos because it reminded her of what luke did. luke knew that loving him was a chore, a burden, but he never thought that loving him would cause someone so much suffering. especially not you, who told him once that loving him was effortless, as easy as breathing in oxygen in the air. you once said that loving him was simple. it was second nature to you. 
now, he watched you cry out in pain. pain that he caused. and he knew he couldn’t in good conscience deny you of your request. luke stuffed his hands in his front pockets, “okay.” 
he looked at you, for the last time, before walking away, stumbling in his steps as he left you alone.
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