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#I hope that this will help down the path of healing
scoonsalicious · 1 day
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Unwanted: Chapter 28, Unwanted - Pt. 1
Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Fem!Reader
Summary: When your FWB relationship with your best friend Bucky Barnes turns into something more, you couldn’t be happier. That is, however, until a new Avenger sets her sights on your super soldier and he inadvertently breaks your heart. You take on a mission you might not be prepared for to put some distance between the two of you and open yourself up to past traumas. Too bad the only one who can help you heal is the one person you can no longer trust.
Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, violence, death
Word Count: 861
Previously On...: You're boyfriend's back and Jade's gonna be in trouble. Hey na, hey na...
A/N: THREE MORE CHAPTERS LEFT OMG HOW DID WE GET HERE?!
NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates
Banner By: The absolutely amazing @mrsbuckybarnes1917!
Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!
Taglist: (Sadly, tag list is closed; Tumblr will not let me add anyone new. If you want to be notified when I update, please Follow me for Notifications!) @jmeelee @cazellen @mrsbuckybarnes1917 @blackhawkfanatic @buckybarnessimpp @hayjat @capswife @itsteambarnes @marygoddessofmischief @sebastians-love @learisa @lethallyprotected @rabbitrabbit12321 @buckybarnesandmarvel @fanfictiongirl77 @calwitch @fantasyfootballchampion @selella @jackiehollanderr @wintercrows @sashaisready @missvelvetsstuff @angelbabyyy99 @keylimebeag @maybefoxysouls @vicmc624 @j23r23 @wintercrows @crist1216 @cjand10 @pattiemac1@les-sel @dottirose @winterslove1917 @harperkenobi @ivet4 @casey1-2007 @mrsevans90 @steeph-aniie @bean-bean2000 @beanbagbitch @peachiestevie @wintrsoldrluvr @shadowzena43
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Jade was dragging you through the hallways of the base by your hair as she frantically searched for an exit that would keep her out of Bucky’s reach. At first, you tried to keep track of the path you took, making note of turns and counting doorways as you were pulled down long corridors in case the opportunity to escape presented itself and you had to retrace your steps, but the route was so convoluted, and your head so battered, that you quickly lost track of where you were going, and any sense of direction you’d been able to hold onto. 
“I need eyes,” Jade said, more to herself than to you, and soon she was shifting directions. Within moments, she was throwing open a metal door that appeared to lead to a security center. Tossing you unceremoniously inside, she bolted the door behind her and heaved a heavy breath.
“What’s the matter?” you asked, your tone dangerously mocking. “If he loves you as much as you think he does, you shouldn’t have any reason to run from him.”
“Shut up, shut up, shut up,” Jade chanted. She moved over to the row of security monitors and began quickly cycling through the screens. “Gotta find an exit,” she murmured to herself. “There has to be a way out where he won’t see.”
You took the opportunity her distraction provided to study the rest of the monitors, hoping to find some subtle way to contact Bucky, to let him know where you were or, at the very least, to try and find an escape route of your own. 
“How did he know where to find you?” Jade muttered as she continued to flip through the feeds.
You opted not to answer; you’d be a fucking idiot to reveal your distress bangle now. If you could keep it a secret from Jade, you’d ensure that Bucky would have the ability to find you, no matter where she ended up taking you. It would also let him know you were still alive.
You scanned the rest of the monitors, instead, and were shocked by what you saw: Room after room was littered in corpses; bloody, mangled, bodies where there had once been Hydra agents. Your eyes landed on a monitor in the far left corner of the room, and you saw him. Bucky was covered head to toe in the blood of his enemies, dual guns raised in the air as he opened fire on anyone who stood in his way. Though you couldn’t hear the words coming from his mouth, you could read his lips well enough to know he was screaming your name, searching for you as he tore through the facility, slaughtering every Hydra operative that crossed his path.
You had never seen him so enraged before. Yes, you knew that, as the Winter Soldier, he’d been capable of immense violence– you’d seen video footage of him in action, after all, but this? This was so much worse than that. Because Soldat complied. And Bucky Barnes? He was out for blood.*
You should have been frightened by the blatant display of absolute brutality, should have been repulsed by it. But instead, it excited you. It thrilled you, because you knew that he was doing this for you. To get you back, to keep you safe. He was willing to damn his soul to hell to protect you when you needed him. You should have been disgusted, but you’d never been more turned on by him in your life.
“Gotcha!” Jade exclaimed, drawing your attention back to her. She’d stopped her cycling through the security feeds on a non-descript door that, so far, seemed to have been spared from the ongoing carnage. Moving to a locker beside the desk, Jade reached inside and pulled out a handgun and several clips of ammo, tucking them snuggly into her belt.
“Come on,” she said, reaching out and grabbing your hair once more. “You’re my human shield for getting out of here.” She dragged you back out of the security station and into the hallway, looking both ways before turning left and sprinting down the corridor. It was all you could do to keep up; you had no doubt that if you faltered, she’d drag you across the floor behind her without a second thought. 
In minutes, you were at the door you’d seen in the feed. Jade let go of your hair and trained her gun on your head. “Open it,” she commanded. 
You winced in pain as you yanked on the door with your right hand, the left dangling limply and uselessly at your side. “Hurry up!” Jade shouted at you.
“I’m trying,” you grunted as you pulled. “The door’s fucking heavy, and in case you forgot, I’m down an arm because of you.”
“Jesus Christ,” Jade grumbled, reaching around you to yank the door open, herself. “Do I have to do fucking everything around here?” She jabbed the barrel of her gun into your back. “Go,” she urged.
You stepped into the darkness of the open tunnel and, doing your best not to stumble or jostle your ruined arm, began to walk.
<- Previous Chapter / Next Part ->
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readychilledwine · 3 months
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Hi I hope you’re doing well! Can I request an azriel x feysands daughter reader fic where azriel leaves velaris and the inner circle temporarily after elain chooses lucien over him. He comes back like 50 years later and at that point rhys and feyre have two kids, nyx and reader. Azriel meets reader at a bar and the bond snaps, azriel is so shocked by the bond snapping that he doesn’t notice that she looks just like rhys and feyre. After going on dates and stuff, reader introduces azriel to her parents and everyone is hella confused.
Small World
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Warnings - best friends daughter, implied smut, angry rhys
A/N - Azriel can't catch a break. Poor guy. Also, peep this cute divider from @animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Part Two is Here
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Azriel held your hand tight as you two walked through Velaris. You were running late to a family dinner where he'd be meeting your parents, brother, and a few other people for the first time.
He watched familiar streets passing by, shadows grown eerily quiet. You stopped at a familiar restaurant, one he had frequented over 20 years ago. He came here with Rhys and Cassian almost weekly before they became mated, and he left the Night Court for 20 years.
He had told you his story of a beautiful love forbidden to him due to her mating bond. He had told parts of his past, of his journeys outside of night, of the past years he had spent healing.
He had been back in Velaris for almost 3 years. 2 of which were spent solely with you.
You had been moving into the apartment next to his when you two crossed paths. You had been struggling to carry a heavy box, so he had taken it from you, helping you get it into your apartment.
That quick interaction turned into nights spent reading together so you both weren't alone. Then coffee in the mornings. Then days spent shopping. Evenings spent out to dinner.
You two spoke about everything.
Well.
Almost everything.
Families were a mostly banned topic.
Azriel knew you had a brother 5 years older than you. He knew both of your mother was involved in your life, as well as married and mated. He knew you had 2 blood aunts, one of which was married, one of which was not. He knew your father was a banned topic.
You knew he had 2 blood brothers, the ones who had scarred his hands, 2 chosen brothers, and several others he considered family. That his mother was wonderful, that he hoped his father found a shallow grave.
But you had told him bringing family into your love life normally ended poorly.
And he had told you he had not been around or spoken to his found family since he left.
You two closed that book, choosing to be just you and him.
You stopped before hitting the private back room Azriel had been in many times. "As a reminder, my dad and brother are dicks."
Azriel leaned down kissing you softly. "I can handle a few assholes, angel."
You sighed heavily. "Just remember, I didn't tell you because they ruin everything. Please." He nodded again, resting his forehead on yours.
You two stood there breathing for a few seconds as he ran a hand through your sandy blonde hair. "Let's just go in. An hour," he murmured, moving to kiss your neck. "One hour and then we go home."
Home.
The cabin you two had just purchased and moved into.
Small. Intimate. Cozy.
Everything you two both didn't know the other never knew.
Everything you two wanted as soon as the bond snapped a couple months ago.
You shared one last kiss, opening the door.
Your father and mother had their backs to you, speaking with your brother who instantly paled the second he saw who you were with.
Azriel had gone stiff, eyes locked with a shocked Cassian.
Nesta almost dropped her wine with a gasp, handing flying to her mouth as she stepped back and shook her head.
Azriel looked at you again. Studying you harder.
Sandy blonde hair.
Button nose.
High cheek bones.
Part illyrian.
Eyes that reflected starlight.
Eyes that were near violet.
Rhysand's eyes.
"Mom, dad," you approached them, ignoring the tension in the room and pulling Azriel with you.
Rhys turned first, whiskey glass shattering in his grip before a look of shock and anger hit him. Feyre immediately turned after that. She was too stunned to move. "This is my mate and boyfriend-"
Elain whispered before you could finish, eyes watering with sadness and hope, "Azriel."
Rhys nodded, scratching his jaw. "I know who he is, babygirl."
Azriel watched you as you looked between them before your face fell. "You're that Azriel."
Feyre clapped her hands, forcing light and air into the room. "Let's sit and eat! This is a um, lovely, surprise. We should all be excited!"
Aunt Elain immediately moved, sitting on Azriel's other side. His hand found yours under the table, lacing your fingers together. Your father sat across from him, mother to one side, Cassian to the other. Nyx sat next to Nesta and her Elain as you all eat at the circled table.
"So where have you been," Nyx refused to be intimated by the situation, secretly filing this away as an example of why he was the better child. "And when did you start seeing my sister?"
Azriel shifted, clearing his throat. "I spent the last 17 years traveling the world. I've been back in Velaris for 3 years. I started seeing y/n 2 years ago."
Cassian drank his beer as if it was water before setting the mug down and refilling it. "You have been back for 3 years and didn't think to yourself that you should go visit your brothers?"
"I wasn't ready."
"But you were ready enough to fuck my daughter as a revenge move?"
"Rhys!" "Dad!"
Rhys put a hand up to your mother and gave you a look. "You would feel the same had it been Elain who ran, Feyre Darling. And you," he turned towards you. "You should have told me who he was."
"Do not speak to her like that. She is not a child."
Nesta looked up, sending a silent prayer to the Cauldron. "She is my child," Rhys growled. "You've been bedding your niece."
Nesta slammed her hands down, "Enough! She is not his niece by blood, and she is clearly upset. If you all cannot be civil, I'm taking y/n home." The room went silent with Lady Death's power flickering through it. "This is the first real family meal we have gotten to have in 20 years," a sad gaze met Azriel's. Guilt shook him, reminding him if the friendship he and Nesta had formed. The friendship he had abandoned. "Can we please just enjoy it."
You were uncomfortable, tears beginning to form as his scarred hand refound yours under the table and squeezed. Rhys nodded, going back to his food as the sound of utensils barely scraping and drinks being poured filled the air.
You should have put two and two together.
Scarred hands.
Massive wingspan.
Mysterious male.
Pretty dagger.
Of course he was that Azriel. The Azriel your Aunt Elain had been pining for for years now.
The Azriel who left in the dead of night leaving only a note.
The Azriel whose seat sat empty your whole life as your dad's stare always lingered on it.
You squeezed his hand back, glancing at the white wine on the table and your empty glass. It was a rare occurrence for you to drink, but now seemed like the perfect time. "Daddy, can I have some wine please?"
You hadn't thought about that either as two deep male voices replied as they reached for the wine, "Of course, baby."
The silence was deafening. Your real father too stunned to speak, Azriel's face growing red with embarrassment.
Cassian, always the joyful uncle, broke into an uncontrollable fit of laughter, as did your mother. The two of them gripping each other tightly as your father sat blinking over and over, trying to erase this moment from him mind.
It was then the tears fell, and you stood, leaving them to eat as you went into the bathroom.
Azriel and Rhys stared at each other. "We have to get through this for her. You have to get over it. It would have happened regardless of me being here or me leaving."
Rhys growled. "You left without warning, without consulting us, without-"
"You told me to do whatever I needed do to move on and prevent war with Autumn and Day. I did what I had to. I got help, I saw the world, I moved on. I did not plan on coming home and meeting y/n. I didn't even know she was yours until tonight." Azriel took a deep breath before turning to Nesta. "She needs you. Please."
She stood, her and Feyre went after the young female without hesitation. Nyx stood, offering an arm to Elain and forcing her from the room as his father and uncles, well, uncle and soon to be brother, spoke. "You want to talk about fucked up abandonment, Rhys? Where the hell have you been the past two years of her life?"
"Do not speak to me about things you do not understand or know about."
"How can he know," Cassian started gently. "How can he know how we're all working on fixing our relationships with her if we don't tell him. We aren't innocent, Rhys. Maybe this is the first step. Accepting them, loving them despite everything," a silent message was sent to Azriel through Cassian's eyes, "Maybe that's what it takes to bring y/n home."
Rhys looked up, eyes being to line with tears. "What does she say about me?"
Azriel sighed, drinking his whiskey heavily. "That her father favored her brother. Despite his power and ability to look and find the truth, he believed her brother without hesitation and would punish her for his actions at times. That he threatened her once by reminding her that as an illyrian, and as a female, her worth was in whom she was sold to."
Azriel watched the visible flinch. "I can't help but to wonder how bad the argument must have been for that to have been what you said to her."
"I caught her with Tamlin," Rhysand's voice broke. "I caught them whispering about running away together. About sailing somewhere and living out their lives, just the two of them now that he handed Spring over to his heir. She didn't know what he had done to Feyre, who he was. I," Rhys shook his head. "I lost my shit without explaining. Tamlin also didn't know she was mine. I hid her so well for her protection. To prevent anyone from trying to purchase her. I did such a great job protecting her that my protection backfired and she began to rebel."
Cassian sighed softly. "She moved out because Rhys told her he gave up. That if she wanted to explore the world without his hands, without our guidance, then that's what she should go do. He set her up with enough money to last 5 years, bought that apartment complex you two live in, and sent her on her way."
"She just doesn't listen."
Azriel shook his head. "Why would she listen when she isn't heard? From her side, you treat her like your father treated Selene."
"I love her much more than my father ever loved my sister."
"Then show her," Azriel leaned back into his chair. "Show her before I take her from this place, too."
Cassian stiffened, his breathing becoming deep but strained. "They're about to come out. Y/n wants to leave."
Azriel stood, "Then we go. I won't force her to stay here. Let me know when you're ready to talk, Rhys. And if you never are, do not be surprised when I do what I have to in order to keep her safe and happy."
You were out the door quickly and into Azriel's chest, shadows pulling you two away to wherever he took you for comfort, to wherever you felt safe. Feyre turned to Rhys, fire blazing in her eyes, "Fix. This."
PS - there will be a part two
General tag list:
@hnyclover @glitterypirateduck @slytherinindisguise @mischiefmanager @bloodicka @starsinyourseyes @the-sweet-psycho
@mariahoedt @rinalouu
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marvelsmylife · 2 months
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Hidden Family
Pairing: Azriel x reader
Request: 𝐻𝑒𝑦, 𝑐𝑜𝑢𝑙𝑑 𝑦𝑜𝑢 𝑤𝑟𝑖𝑡𝑒 𝑎 𝑓𝑖𝑐 𝑤ℎ𝑒𝑟𝑒 𝐴𝑧𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙 ℎ𝑎𝑠 𝑙𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑎 𝑠𝑒𝑐𝑟𝑒𝑡 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑑𝑢𝑟𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑎 𝑚𝑖𝑠𝑠𝑖𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝑡ℎ𝑒 𝑖𝑛𝑛𝑒𝑟 𝑐𝑖𝑟𝑐𝑙𝑒 𝑠𝑜𝑚𝑒𝑡ℎ𝑖𝑛𝑔 𝑔𝑜𝑒𝑠 𝑤𝑟𝑜𝑛𝑔 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑛𝑒𝑒𝑑 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑑𝑒 𝑓𝑜𝑟 𝑎 𝑤ℎ𝑖𝑙𝑒 𝑎𝑛𝑑 𝐴𝑧𝑟𝑖𝑒𝑙 𝑡𝑎𝑘𝑒𝑠 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑚 𝑡𝑜 ℎ𝑖𝑠 𝑓𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦 𝑡ℎ𝑎𝑡 𝑡ℎ𝑒𝑦 𝑑𝑖𝑑𝑛'𝑡 𝑒𝑣𝑒𝑛 𝑘𝑛𝑜𝑤 𝑒𝑥𝑖𝑠𝑡𝑒𝑑? (𝐿𝑖𝑘𝑒 𝑖𝑛 𝐴𝑣𝑒𝑛𝑔𝑒𝑟𝑠 𝐴𝑔𝑒 𝑜𝑓 𝑈𝑙𝑡𝑟𝑜𝑛 𝑤𝑖𝑡ℎ 𝐶𝑙𝑖𝑛𝑡 𝐵𝑎𝑟𝑡𝑜𝑛𝑠 𝐹𝑎𝑚𝑖𝑙𝑦) 𝑇ℎ𝑎𝑛𝑘 𝑦𝑜𝑢🥰
A/n I changed a few things around (timeline wise) where Feyre had Nyx before the war in Hybern. I hope you guys won’t mind.
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It was a total shit show. They were meant to go on a mission to forge more allies for the inevitable war against Hybern. They decided to bring Nyx with them because they thought it would be a simple mission. Unfortunately, they crossed paths with Hybern soldiers, and half of them were severely injured, while the other half were helping the injured make their way towards a safe house Azriel mentioned when they finally killed the Hybern soldiers.
“We’re here,” Azriel called out to everyone. 
Everyone let out an exhausted sigh at the news and followed Azriel toward a beautiful house that was near a lake. 
Before they entered the house, Azriel turned towards everyone: “Before you enter, I want to express how sorry I am for not telling you about who you’re about to meet.”
Everyone exchanged concerned looks before entering the house. 
The second they entered the home they were met with the smell of fresh baked goods. “Y/n, I’m home,” Azriel called out: “I’m going to need you to bring out all of your healing oils and your delicate hands to help heal some of my friends”.
Everyone exchanged shocked looks at the fact that Azriel had kept the fact that he had a significant other.
Right when Cassian was about to question his brother on how he was able to keep such a secret from them, a feminine voice came from upstairs. “Daddy, Ophelia took my favorite dress and ruined it ! ! !” Your daughter Anastasia cried as she rushed down the stairs with her ruined dress in her hands.
On cue, your other daughter came rushing behind her sister: “It was an accident!!!!”
“No, it wasn’t ! ! !” Anastasia cried: “You knew I had my date tonight with Achilles; you ruined it because you have a crush on him !”
That statement alone caused Azriel’s heart to stop: “There is no way you are going out on a date. You’re just a child ! ! !” Azriel argued.
“Daddy, I’m 89 years old,” Anastasia replied: “I’m allowed to date.”
Throughout the exchange, the inner circle tried to wrap their head around the fact that Azriel had a secret family and had been hiding them for at least 89 years. 
That’s when you appeared with a tray of healing oils and cream: “Ophelia, Anastasia apologize to our guests for your behavior and either helps your two younger sisters in the kitchen or go to your rooms” you scolded your two daughters before acknowledging your guests: “Please make yourselves at home while I heal the injured”.
One by one you took the injured fae into a separate room and began to heal their wounds. While that happened, the rest of the inner circle started questioning why Azriel kept this from them. “Can you blame me?” Azriel asked: “I’m the spymaster of the night court; I’m bound to garner some enemies. I kept them hidden so no one would go after them.”
“But we could have helped,” Feyre replied: “We would have kept them safe.”
Azriel shook his head: “I wanted them to have a normal life. They deserve the normal and safe life I never had growing up. When I met y/n a hundred years ago and found out we were mates, I promised I would keep her safe. I doubled down on it when we discovered y/n was pregnant with Anastasia”. Azriel sighed and looked over at Rhysand and Cassian: “I really wanted to tell you about them, especially when I met y/n. I knew you guys would love her but I was scared for her safety.”
“I totally understand” Rhysand responded: “If I had the choice I would have done the same thing with Feyre and Nyx.”
“I also would have done the same thing,” Cassian replied as he took Nesta's hand.
Azriel sent his brother a smile before they heard tiny footsteps coming down the hall. “DADDY ! ! !” Two small faes no older than five came running into the room. “You’re home !” the girls said in unison and jumped onto Azriel’s lap.
“I find it amusing that Azriel only has daughters unless you have more hidden somewhere?” Amren commented as she watched your daughter’s kiss on Azriel’s cheeks.
Everyone started chuckling at Amren's comment: “Nope, I’m a girl dad and I wouldn’t change that at all” Azriel replied.
“If you don’t mind me asking, why is there a big age gap between your daughters,” Nesta asked.
Azriel couldn’t help but laugh as he responded: “We intended to only have two, but Charlotte came into our lives 5 years ago, and we didn’t want her to grow up alone, so we had Amélie two years later”.
“Daddy, pay attention to me,” Charlotte grabbed her dad's face: “I helped Mommy make the pastries today; do you want to try one?”
“Can I have one Mommy?” everyone turned and realized Nyx was finally awake and looking up at Feyre.
“Yes ! ! ! !” both Charlotte and Amélie got off their father's lap and went over to Nyx: “You are going to love them”. Charlotte and Amélie each grabbed Nyx’s hand and ran towards the kitchen to get a treat.
Right at that instant, you reappeared with a now-healed Elain by your side. “I told those girls those pastries were supposed to be a surprise for their father,” you huffed out before you acknowledged everyone in the room: “Would you like me to bring the pastries out here for you?”
“Actually, let me help you bring everything out,” Feyre volunteered, followed by Nesta and Elain.
As soon as you were gone, Rhysand leaned over and whispered into Azriel’s ear: “Listen, I get why you hid this from us, but now that we know, please let us know if you need anything for them. They are family and we always protect family”.
“Thank you, Rhysand,” Azriel smiled at Rhysand: “I really don’t know what I would do without my family”.
Rhysand was about to pat Azriel’s shoulder when Nyx came rushing in with a grin on his face: “Uncle Azriel, I’m going to marry Charlotte AND Amélie ! ! !”
The color drained from Azriel’s face at Nyx’s statement. “I’m sure you will, Nyx; let’s go see what’s taking your mother so long in the kitchen,” Rhysand quickly got his son and exited the room before Azriel could respond.
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moonstruckme · 6 months
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White Lies
summary: when you come back to work soon after getting injured on a case, all you can think about is keeping the public safe from your latest unsub; Spencer's thinking about keeping you safe
cw: case involves kidnapped and murdered women, but no details are given
Spencer Reid x bau!reader ♡ 981 words
You’re aching from sitting up straight in your chair, but you do your best to ignore it. You keep your eyes firmly on the screen as JJ presents an overview of your new case, doing your best to look engaged and attentive. A consequence of your job is extraordinarily perceptive coworkers, which means that when you have something you want to keep to yourself, you often have to go to inconvenient lengths to avoid notice. You’d hustled like never before when you’d gotten the call to come in, getting yourself situated in the briefing room a good ten minutes before anyone else arrived. That meant no one had been around to see you limping into the building, taking your time to sit down in your chair, or downing two extra-strength pain relievers with your coffee. 
Emily had expressed some surprise at seeing you back at work so soon after you were injured in the field and you’d gotten an odd look from Spencer, but neither of them had time to question you further before Hotch entered and began asking for details about the case. This one’s got to do with women being kidnapped and subsequently dumped in rural Texas, and not to be dramatic, but no physical pain can be worse than the torment of not being able to help catch the guy who’s doing this to them. All you have to do now is avoid giving anyone on your team reason to question your capability. 
“News networks have already published some details of the case, so we’ve got some damage control to do,” JJ finishes, “but the local law enforcement is very eager for our help and it seems like they’re going to be open to what we have to say.” 
“Good. Y/N.” Hotch isn’t even looking up from the case, but you snap to attention. “You’re cleared to travel?”
“Yes.” 
“Good.” He snaps the binder shut. “Wheels up in thirty.” 
Everyone else stands, and you stall, waiting until all backs are turned before pushing yourself up out of your chair with a grimace. Spencer turns around at the door, stepping aside for Garcia to pass through, and then you’re alone. 
“You’re cleared to travel?” he asks you.
“Yes,” you repeat yourself. 
Spencer crosses his arms, standing just barely in front of the door. You could push past him if you really wanted to leave, but he knows you won’t. You and Spencer haven’t been together for long, but he’s always had a way of reading you when even the other members of your team can’t. You keep your face carefully blank. “You’ve barely had any time to heal,” he says. “Who would clear you?”
“A doctor.”
“What doctor?”
You sigh, crossing your arms to match him. “My friend Maggie.” 
Spencer’s eyebrows knit together. “Doesn’t your friend Maggie live in Chicago?”
“She does,” you admit. 
“So how did she determine that you were safe for travel?” 
He’s frowning like he already knows. You think about not answering (what’s he going to do, whine to Hotch about it? They need everyone they can get for a time-sensitive case like this, and you know Spencer is just as aware of that as you are), but then you catch the flicker of worry in his gaze. It’s hard to be angry at him when he’s clearly doing what he thinks will help you most. “We talked on the phone,” you say, softly but still firm enough that you hope he won’t argue further. “I told her I feel fine, and she cleared me.” 
The sigh that leaves Spencer is so long and heavy you’re surprised his ghost doesn’t come out at the end of it. “Sweetheart,” he says, coming forward to wrap his hands around your arms. His thumbs rub synchronized paths, up and down on the skin above your elbows. “You know that’s not the same as having a doctor actually check you over. We both know you’re not fragile—” he gives you a small smile, and you feel a tug on the corners of your lips in response “—but your body is vulnerable right now. The last thing you need is to make it worse by getting hurt again in the field.” 
You can’t look him in the eyes. You can handle a verbal lashing, but it’s softness like this that wears you down, and Spencer knows it. You fix your gaze on his chin, trying to think past the sproutling of guilt he’s sneakily planted in your gut. 
Spencer gives your arms a light squeeze. “Let me just talk to Hotch,” he says, pushing his advantage. “I’ll tell him about the mixup with your clearance, and then he can decide if you should still come along on this one or not. I’m sure Garcia could use the help if you stay back.” 
You look at him, feeling like a kid chastened for being outside after dark. “Garcia’s a one-woman army, she doesn’t need me. You guys need all the manpower you can get for this case.” 
“I know.” Spencer’s tone is consoling, and that only makes it worse. He drops a kiss on the top of your head. “But I need you to be safe even more than that. Hotch might still decide to let you come, okay? Just…you have to be honest about these things, sweetheart.” He gives you a disappointed look, and you have to look away from his eyes, well-meaning as they are. “Your health is a serious thing. We need you for years, not just for today.” He ducks, catching your gaze. “Okay?”
“Okay,” you say quietly, and Spencer gives you a smile, kissing your cheek. 
“Okay, just give me a minute,” he says, and if he weren’t on the way to foil all your plans, you’d say he looks downright merry as he starts towards Hotch’s office. “I’ll let you know what he says.”
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celestialowlbear · 3 months
Text
𖤣.𖥧 Flowers for You 𖥧.𖤣
Pairing: Halsin x Reader / Tav
Summary: Halsin admits his feelings for you.
Warnings: Fluff. Kissing. Yearning. Admission of feelings. Sex is implied but not described, so 18+ just to be safe.
WC: 1700
A/N: This fic is inspired by the amazingly sweet artwork by @pani-artz found here! Please give your love and check out their other art. 💕
This one got away from me a bit, but I’ve been obsessed with the idea of Halsin in bear form giving Tav flowers and obsessed with this art! Just a cute little cheesy feelings admission fic for ya’ll. I hope you enjoy! 🥹
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𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘ 𖤣.𖥧.𖡼.⚘
You let out a long sigh, your eyes tired from studying the map. You were trying to figure out the shortest path to a village over a mountain pass, but the surrounding craggy terrain was making it difficult.
You stepped away from camp for some peace to ponder the routes. Everyone was vocal about their opinion on the fastest way, through varying levels of danger and difficulty, and it seemed like the discussion wasn’t going to end anytime soon.
The bickering began to give you a headache, and you knew you wouldn’t be able to make a clear decision while frustrated.
You rested your head against the tree you were sitting up against, pondering the options and trying to figure out how to get everyone to agree on which way to proceed.
You closed your eyes, trying to focus on the tranquility of the woods around you, hoping it would ease your mind.
You honed in on birds chirping and flitting between branches. A stream trickled nearby, crystal water pouring over glossy stones. The scent of wildflowers and grasses tickled your nose.
Your heartbeat slowed, your mind clearing.
Your eyelids felt heavier, your body relaxing into the soft earth beneath you, the smooth bark of the tree cool against your back.
You unwound further, the tension in your head leaving. Your thoughts began to wander, fantasizing of a comfortable bed and hot bath.
You imagined sinking into warm water, your aching muscles needing the relief.
A pair of large hands slide over your shoulders, beginning to knead the stress away. A low whisper at your ear, lips at your neck, the hands moving lower to caress you.
Someone else is in this bath with you, and the person takes the form of Halsin. He’s there, his golden hair down and wet, holding you close to him, kissing you with passion and urgency. Your hands wander over the broad expanse of his chest, memorizing every scar.
This exact fantasy plays in your head every night as you lay in your tent. You’ve been trying to keep these feelings at bay, but it was getting more and more difficult as the days passed. You were falling for the kind druid. How could you not?
You haven’t felt this way in a long, long time. These feelings don’t come easy to you, but somehow everything was easy with Halsin.
He was always so thoughtful, so understanding. He doesn’t hesitate to heal you, check you over for wounds. You often spoke late into the night, talking of past adventures like you have been friends for centuries.
You couldn’t help but think, or hope, that he felt the same about you. You have been hesitant to make the first move, not wanting to make a fool of yourself. You have resided yourself to fantasies, at least for now.
Heavy footsteps startled you out of your daydream. You froze, eyes snapping open, lumbering steps drawing closer.
You peeked over the map, scanning the forest around you. Twigs cracked and bushes rustled as something large made its way toward you.
You slowly reached to your side where your dagger was sheathed, staying completely still otherwise, holding the map up with your other hand.
A massive bear head emerged from the brush, golden eyes immediately locking with yours.
Adrenaline pumped through your veins, gripping your dagger, sweat beading at your forehead. If you stood still, maybe it wouldn’t perceive you as a threat. You swallowed, waiting for the bear to move first.
The bear stared right at you, and a familiar deep, rumbling grunt of your name came from the bear’s mouth.
You blinked a few times. Did you just hear your name?
Halsin.
It was Halsin.
You couldn’t help but let out a relieved laugh, slumping back against the tree.
“Halsin!”
You released your dagger, setting the map down next to you. “You startled me!”
“I apologize, it was not my intention to alarm you. I often forget this form can be intimidating.”
Halsin’s deep timbre floated through the air, resonating in your head.
The adrenaline left your body as Halsin lumbered fully into the clearing.
“Don’t apologize, I was lost in my thoughts. The quarreling in camp was beginning to give me a headache.”
Halsin made a huff that sounded like a chuckle if a bear could do such a thing.
“That is exactly why I went roaming, myself. The wind, the trees, and the birds all offer cures that medicines or other concoctions cannot. Only out here can you achieve pure harmony and clear one’s mind.”
You always loved the way Halsin waxed poetic about nature. While others may scoff, you listened and agreed wholeheartedly. You admired his passion.
Halsin shifted on his massive paws.
“I also wanted to make sure you were faring well. You left camp abruptly. I followed your tracks.”
You felt a flush of embarrassment, realizing you may have stormed off a little more dramatically than you thought.
Also, Halsin was following you?
“I don’t mean to intrude on your solitude but…”
Halsin tilted his massive head back, motioning to a bush behind him.
“I was foraging for medicinal herbs to resupply my stock and found something I hope you’ll enjoy.”
Halsin turned away from you momentarily.
You sat forward, wondering what he was doing.
He bent his head below the bush, turning back around to face you.
In his mouth was a bundle of wildflowers in different colors and variety. Each was different and vibrant in its own right.
Heat crept up your neck, blushing your cheeks.
Halsin took a few large steps toward you, placing them gently at your feet.
“These are…for me?” You questioned, hoping you weren’t misinterpreting this gesture.
Your vision flitted from the flowers to him. You were always in awe when he was in wild shape, witnessing how he harnessed the power of nature and extended his strength into a physical embodiment of it.
Though he was a beast, when you looked into his eyes, it was still him.
His gaze softened as he nodded, watching you gently pick up the bundle, admiring the gorgeous assortment.
“These flowers produce a calming tea when dried and prepared correctly. It is a favorite recipe of mine, one that I tend to make for myself when I’m feeling overwhelmed. I hope I could show you how to prepare it. Also…”
Halsin paused, something tender flashing in his ursine eyes.
“Their exquisite beauty reminded me of you.”
Your heart leaped in your chest at his bold admission.
You smiled, your headache now long gone. “You…really think that of me?”
You’ve spent so long fighting, beautiful is not something you’ve thought of yourself in some time. Hearing Halsin say it with such sincerity stirred your heart in a way you haven’t felt before.
Halsin took a few steps back from you, his stare not leaving yours.
“The most brilliant of sunrises or the most magnificent hues of a sunset do not compare to you.”
Suddenly, leaves whipped around, and Halsin’s bear form was bathed in golden light. You watched as he transformed, slowly standing upright as the fur fell away and revealed the man underneath.
He held out a large hand down toward you, offering to help you up.
You took his hand, calloused and warm, and he pulled you up with ease.
“Halsin…” you started, your heart feeling as if it might burst out of your chest at his heartfelt words.
“I cannot lie to you. I wish to spend more time with you and see no better time to start than now. Your friendship means a great deal to me, but I long for more. I could not wait longer to tell you.”
Halsin’s hand squeezed yours lightly.
“I believe you do as well. Unless I am misguided. Tell me now, and I will step away.”
Halsin was not a daft man. He catches your stares or the way your cheeks bloom a deeper color when he speaks to you. He notices how you stand closely to him on the battlefield, often putting yourself in harm’s way to protect him without a second thought.
You were unlike anyone or anything he’d experienced in his long life. You were everything to him. He finally felt like he was in the right headspace to admit it, and give you his full attention and heart if you’d want it.
He knew you had your burdens, though. The tadpole in your brain, trying to be the leader that everyone needs, trying to solve every problem and save every person. He would understand if you said no, and would continue to stand by your side as a friend.
Halsin was gazing at you with so much admiration, that you felt as if you were floating. You picked up a hint of hesitancy, as well.
The large man was putting his heart on his sleeve, the flowers representing the start of something beautiful and new in chaos, and it was up to you to accept it.
“Yes.” You whispered, “I want that and so much more. You are not misguided.”
A large smile graced his features, his eyes shining.
Halsin leaned down, lightly touching his forehead against yours, bringing your hand to his chest, and you could feel the fast thrumming of his heart under your fingertips.
“I am happy to hear it.” He whispered, his lips close to yours.
Halsin let out a soft sigh, bringing his free hand to cup the side of your face.
“I have been wanting to express my feelings to you for a long time.” His voice was low. “May I kiss you?”
You nodded, squeezing the stems of flowers in your one hand, while your other was still enveloped in his against his chest.
“Yes,” you breathed. “Please.”
The words barely left your mouth as his lips captured yours, fervent and passionate, better than any dream.
His lips were soft and purposeful, both of you pouring your long-held emotions into the dance of your lips.
Finally, after what seemed to be an eternity, you both pulled away for a much-needed breath.
“So many nights I laid awake, desperate to feel your lips on mine, dreaming of how you’d taste and feel…none of those fantasies were even close to the real thing.”
“How many nights did you dream of me?” You asked, leaning your head against his chest.
“Since we first met.”
“I admit I dreamt the same of you, Halsin.”
Halsin laughed, a pleasant rumbling in his chest.
You looked up at him, his eyes twinkling with mirth.
“Well then, my flower, we must make up for all the lost time.”
Before you could answer, Halsin scooped you up in his arms bridal-style, silencing your surprised squeak with his lips, more hungry than before.
“What about making the tea?” You gasped between his kisses, wrapping your arms around his neck for purchase.
“When we are done, we can brew it and enjoy it under the stars. Though, by the time we are finished, the sun may just be rising.”
Your body ignited with his words, feeling him smile against your lips as you kissed him with urgency, suddenly needing to feel your entire body against his, needing to feel every part of him.
You knew he felt the same, and he kneeled to lay you on the soft grass, caging you in between his thick biceps.
As his body pressed to yours, your worries and frustrations melted away with every touch and pass of his lips and fingers and sultry praise of your magnificence.
Halsin was true to his word, you explored and worshipied one another until the stars began to fade and a new day was rising, ready to face the world stronger together.
-ˏˋ⋆ Thanks for reading! Comments and reblogs are always appreciated! ⋆ˊˎ-
712 notes · View notes
jinnie-ret · 7 months
Text
scarred knees and insecurities
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Stray Kids x Ninth Member!reader
genre: hurt/comfort
content warnings: insecurities, heat exhaustion, mean online comments
word count: 2.7k
summary: when the old scars from your youth, become fresh wounds in your adulthood, the boys are there to pick up the pieces.
100 followers special!!! Thank you so much for all your support so far, I hope you enjoy this imagine! I personally share this same insecurity and although I have played it up more for this imagine, I hope that nothing said will offend anyone, I've just written it from my perspective.
As always, asks are open! Let me know what you want to read next! Enjoy! :)
MAIN MASTERLIST
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"Annyeong, Stay!" Y/N greeted the fans as she started streaming on YouTube. She was currently in one of the practice rooms at JYP, ready to dance for stays as she normally did when she went live. She was relaxed in some casual clothes, a big t-shirt and some shorts too.
"What song shall I dance to first?" Y/N grinned at the camera as she read the comments.
"Oh- who said WAP?!" Y/N laughed and shook her head, "Stays you can't be talking like that!"
She got up and started dancing, not to WAP, but to their new song Social Path. Anyways, they weren't allowed to play music outside of their company anymore, so it only felt right.
Finishing the dance, Y/N panted lightly, crouched over with her hands on her knees. As she took a sip of water, sat with her knees bent in front of the camera, certain comments started catching her eyes, no matter how much she tried to act normal and answer questions.
What's wrong with her knees
Ew but why do they look like that
Their knees look so old and wrinkly
Y/N needs to get that checked out it looks so unnatural
Just another reason why she's ugly
Of course, there were actual questions, with Stays giving song recommendations and asking Y/N about what she had been doing recently, but she couldn't help but catch sight of the mean comments. She shifted her body so that her knees were off screen, maybe then the harsh words would lessen.
Look, she's hiding them because she's realised how disgusting she is
Disgusting?
Y/N bit her lip and cleared her throat, but decided she didn't want to force herself to sit there in front of millions of fans when she was trying not to let her thoughts spiral.
"I'm feeling kinda tired guys so I'm going to end the live now, bye!" Y/N blew a kiss like always at the camera and sighed as she ended the live.
She had thought about it a couple of times, she wasn't all too fond of the way her knees looked either. But it always felt different and hurt more when someone else points out your insecurities. Her knees had visible scars on them from how clumsy she was as a child. You could see them stick out yet they were healed over and so had blended in with her skin tone. The other thing was that often she'd find after kneeling down or having pressure on her knees, there'd be a redness or slight colour change to them.
Absentmindedly scratching over the bumps of her scars, Y/N looked up when she heard a slight tap on the door.
It was Hyunjin.
"Why did you end your live early? I was enjoying watching you dance," he pouted at her, clearly in a playful mood as he flopped down beside her in the practice room.
"Don't know, guess I just felt tired," Y/N shrugged. She wasn't tired really, just currently feeling low in her mood.
She jolted as he put his head in her lap, in attempt to look up at her face.
"You're acting all quiet, Y/Nnie," Hyunjin commented, hand stroking her knee comfortingly as he knew this was one of her tells when she wasn't feeling too happy.
Yet this action didn't have the same effect as normal. Y/N moved his hand off of her legs and did a fake shiver.
"It's cold in here..." Y/N rubbed her bare legs, hiding her knees before standing once Hyunjin had removed himself from her.
"I've got some spare clothes, it's in my bag in the other room, come on," Hyunjin patted her on the head gently, before resting his hand against her back as he guided her out of the room.
He wasn't silly. He could tell that Y/N wasn't quite feeling herself at the moment, and the best thing him or any of the other boys could do was treat her gently, that's what she always needed when it came to things like this.
A few days later, Stray Kids were set to do a photoshoot on the beach, perfect for a hot day. Well, as long as they didn't get too hot...
Y/N scanned the clothes that were on the rack in the dressing room with her stylist. She smiled as she caught sight of a beautiful white and blue dress, it fitting their cute casual concept perfectly.
"Oh, Y/N we won't be needing that one today, we've got a better option instead," the stylist fanned her own face, feeling the heat too as she passed over a small pile of clothes to Y/N. It consisted of a heavy pair of jeans, alongside a baby tee with a cute graphic of a heart on it. Now that, she could get behind, she thought the tee was adorable, but the heavy jeans? It was such a hot day.
"But everyone else is wearing shorts, wouldn't it be better if I did too-" Y/N began, before the stylist sympathetically patted her hand, yet it came across as being more condescending than anything.
"Honey, we're just doing what the fans will like best, like wearing jeans instead of anything more revealing, you know, because of your knees," she said, before turning around and sorting through other clothes so that Y/N could change.
What she hated the most was how the stylist's words trailed off into a whisper, like she was ashamed, like Y/N should be ashamed of her body. The company were aware of the comments that had been made online, and just after Y/N was building herself back up and ignoring the thing she can't change, this happened.
Dejectedly, she put on her assigned outfit, and left to head outside in the sweltering heat to join the boys.
"Y/Nnie come stand with me!" Felix dragged her next to him happily. The boys had noticed her mood get better the past few days but being the sunshine he is, he noticed that she was once again in the same low mindset.
"Y/N, aren't you... too hot in that?" Changbin rested a hand on her shoulder as he looked at the heavy jeans she was wearing, fabric slumped over at the top of her trainers.
"No, no, this is fine, it was picked especially for me," Y/N lightly smiled, trying to paint her face to seem content when really she was already sweating, causing a makeup artist to run over and quickly powder her face. Y/N couldn't hide the slight truth in her words, and she was silly to think the small bitterness didn't come through in her tone.
"Okay, just be careful, it's too hot to be wearing those, seriously..." Changbin nodded before returning to where he was previously stood, clearly not happy with the situation his younger member had been put in.
Felix side hugged her before they did their group photos first, the others expressing their confusion for the clothes she was wearing.
"Y/N! You must be so hot!" Han audibly gasped, and all she could do was shrug at him, not really having the words to respond, feeling too hot and overwhelmed at the moment to really think.
"Solo photos now!" the director called out, and one by one they posed, Y/N being the last one to head up, as they were going in age order. As Jeongin stepped up for his turn, Y/N scanned around her for some water she could have, seeing black spots enter her vision slowly.
"Here. Drink, or you'll be too tired to even stand," Seungmin appeared with a bottle of water in front of her, sarcasm coming across through his words as he didn't seem to realise how bad she really was feeling, and that she was too tired to stand.
"Thanks, Seungminnie," she mumbled, drinking it quickly as he nodded and walked away, going to change out of his clothes.
"Yah, you'll choke if you keep this up," Lee Know took the bottle from her hands as he crouched down next to her.
"Just thirsty," Y/N fanned herself as she leant back in her chair.
"You sure that's it? Looks like something else is going on too," Lee Know took one of her hands gently, rubbing a thumb across her knuckles.
"Y/Nnie it's your turn!" Jeongin happily walked over, informing his fellow member yet taking away the chance of gaining more information from his other.
Lee Know sighed as Y/N stood up, standing at the beach bar setup first.
Her movements were slow, yet she was sure it looked casual enough to not seem like she was on the verge of wanting to collapse from the heat. Little did she know, a certain leader had been diligently watching her the whole time. He had inquired about the outfit to the stylists and was annoyed when they said Y/N picked it herself. He knew that wasn't the truth.
"Y/N, turn your head to the left a bit! To the left, turn your head to the left," the director frustratedly said through the megaphone, catching the attention of all the members who were now watching.
But Y/N couldn't really hear what was happening around her. She was more focused on trying to stand up straight right now, panting lightly as she did so.
"The director is being a bit harsh..." Hyunjin whispered to Jeongin, who nodded back in response.
"But she's not acting herself either, look," Jeongin nodded towards the girl, who couldn't seem to keep her head up straight.
"Channie hyung, something is wrong with Y/Nnie," Felix said to his fellow Australian member, frowning as he watched the girl.
"I know. As soon as she's done with her photos I'm going to ask-" Chan turned his head away for one second as he spoke to Felix.
One second.
One second he stopped watching over her, and now she was on her knees, leant against the fake bar as she pulled at the collar of her t-shirt for some air.
Gasps rang out from around the room as both Stray Kids and the staff rushed to help Y/N.
"I knew there was something wrong," Chan shook his head as he started patting Y/N's face with a wet towel provided by the staff.
"Y/N, can you hear us?" Changbin hovered around them, concerned at the state she was in.
It all sounded so muffled to Y/N. She had felt that she had been moved into a position where she was laying down, felt slight relief from the cooler feeling on her face, but her eyes were still resting shut. She managed to let out a groan in response, which offered a light sense of peace before they realised they needed to do more.
"We need to get her inside in an air conditioned room or something!" Chan commanded the staff, as he lifted her up after they nodded and he laid her down on a sofa, the other members following through.
"She needs to get out of these jeans, who's big idea was that?" Seungmin huffed, irritated.
"Let me," a female staff member gestured for the boys to turn away as she and another stylist quickly changed Y/N out of her jeans and into some shorts, letting the boys know they could turn around once more.
They had a fan pointed at Y/N as they tried to get her to sip from some water.
"Come on, Y/Nnie, just slow sips, yeah?" Hyunjin held the bottle with a straw to Y/N's face, a hand under her chin tilting her head ever so slightly so water wouldn't spill down her.
Lee Know tied her hair back, soothingly stroking it back before he gathered it all out of the way.
Y/N's eyes opened wide, feeling a bit better as she had cooled down now. But she saw that her knees were exposed and being in the vulnerable state she was, she grabbed a blanket and covered her knees, her mind going 100 mph and all it could think was that the boys thought she was disgusting.
"No, you don't need a blanket, Y/Nnie, you're too hot right now, that won't help," Han grabbed her hands and held them against her stomach lightly, feeling concerned when her eyes became glossy with tears.
Y/N shook her head, not yet finding the words to explain what she was feeling.
"What's the matter, sweetheart?" Chan's voice broke through all of her thoughts, the oldest member being someone she could always rely on.
"They're ugly," she mumbled, eyes darting back and forth between her legs and Han's hands holding onto her own.
"What are?" Felix asked confused, looking back and forth between the boys as they all seemed to be catching onto why you had been feeling a bit low the last couple of days.
"My knees. Got scars on them. They're disgusting. Don't want you to have to see them," Y/N rushed out, feeling the grip round her hands tighten ever so slightly and a hand brush through her hair soothingly.
"Now why would you say something so stupid?" Lee Know sighed, hating how she was thinking.
"Don't call her stupid," Hyunjin whacked Lee Know on the shoulder.
"It's fine, it's silly really. B-but Stays didn't like it so why would you?" Y/N bit her lip, still unable to make eye contact with the boys.
"Y/Nnie, look at me," Chan sat in front of her, and reluctantly she looked at their leader. "Is this why you were put in that outfit?" his tone dropped lower, despising how one of his members had been put in such a position for something out of their control.
"The company agreed too... I didn't want to wear it but I guess it was for the best..." Y/N said unsurely, not really knowing how to explain the situation.
"Not when you nearly passed out from the heat!" Changbin exclaimed.
"Y/N, there is nothing wrong with you, okay? Nothing about you is disgusting. They're just from when you were a kid, right? You can't control that," Chan said softly as he rubbed her shoulder soothingly.
"I just hate how they look and then when Stays started pointing it out it made me remember how much I hate them," Y/N frowned and looked at her knees distastefully.
"They're not real Stays if they're making horrible comments like that," Seungmin pointed out, as the rest of the boys nodded in agreement.
"Plus if people are always staring at your knees, that's kind of weird," Jeongin laughed, which brought a smile to Y/N's face.
"I guess so," Y/N nodded, the grin still there.
"Aw there's that smile," Changbin cooed, squishing her cheeks together.
"Hyung, she's not a baby," Han laughed at Changbin's antics.
"But, Y/N, just know, it's okay to have insecurities, we all have them, it doesn't make you weird or mean that there is something wrong with you. But this is not the way things should have happened, please talk to us next time. I know it was the company that decided for you today, and trust me, I will be having words with them about this... but please don't obsess over this, yeah?" Chan hugged her to him, resting his head on hers as he talked to her, wanting her to know that they were a safe space for her.
"Okay, okay, I'll try," Y/N nodded as she relaxed against Chan.
"Good. And just know, whatever type of scars you have, it doesn't define you, and they're certainly not ugly. Everyone has some, whether they're visible or not," Changbin patted her knee, being slightly more serious in contrast to him babying her ten seconds ago.
"Woah, hyung, that was deep," Hyunjin clapped.
"Our Changbinnie is so good," Han said in a high pitched voice, causing the older member of 3RACHA to jokingly raise his fist at his dongsaeng.
"Thanks guys, I mean it," Y/N said sincerely with a relaxed smile to the rest of the boys who weren't caught up in the chaos. Let's be honest, it wouldn't be Stray Kids without any chaos, it just wouldn't be right.
1K notes · View notes
ameliathornromance · 2 months
Text
“What happened to you?!”
Your Orc Boyfriend sat by the tribe healer. Gashes that started at his forehead and go across his face. Blood dripped down and onto his chest, which was bruised and transitioning into a purple hue in certain areas.
You went to rush over, to cup his face, examine him from head to toe, but the healer held a hand out to you. “I know it looks serious,” he said, “but they’re surface level.”
As you opened your mouth to protest, your Orc Boyfriend grunted, “I’ll be fine, love.” He gave you a pained smile. Even as his face oozed with blood, he still tried to reassure you. “I’ll come see you in a minute.”
He loved this about you. Everything was so different now that you were around. Before you and your Orc got together, when Orcs returned injured, they were told to endure it from their others. No sympathy given. Healers would provide Orcs with a pack of ice in a leather sack and send them on their way.
It started when one day, your Orc came back to camp with a bloody nose. You had instantly run over, "Oh my God, are you okay?!" Everyone had stared, startled by your reaction. But when you started tending to your partner's wounds, the camp seemed to follow your lead.
Orcs were now afforded more luxuries than before, being fed soup if they were immobilised temporarily or being washed by someone they were close to when they couldn't reach certain areas.
But your Orc Boyfriend, always did his best to come back intact. Despite the sweetness of your concern, he couldn't bear witnessing your distress over his injuries. 
This time, he was too careless. 
At that sight of your reluctant scowl, your Orc Boyfriend’s heart ached. He wished he had been more careful.
But you turned away and went back to your shared tent. 
He came in later, his face lined with stitches and his chest wrapped up with cloth. Your Orc groaned as he laid in bed beside you, scrunching his face up in pain. 
Propping yourself up on your elbows, you looked him over. “What happened?” Your voice was muted, small.
“Highway men.” He said.
They had jumped him while he was trying to find his hunting party. Your Orc had got separated when he’d tried to go after a stag. He emerged out onto a popular path taken by humans, looking around for his prey.
But a second was all it took for the humans to attack him.
The men were more vicious that most humans he’d fought, with weapons imbued with some kind of magical properties. One human delivered such a powerful blow to his chest that he thought his ribs had broken.
Your Orc got out by the skin of his tusks, and that was only thanks to another Orc finding him and helping him beat the snot out of the Highwaymen. 
You bit your lip at that and cast a look down at his chest. It had turned black now.
“It’ll heal.” He assured you. “It’ll take more than a few humans to kill me. Don’t worry.” Your Orc shifted and pulled something out from his belt pocket. “Here, for you.”
You gasped. Clutched between your Orc’s meaty green fingers was a small, golden band. A red ruby sat on top of the gold, catching in the dim candlelight. “We took their plunders, this was among it… And I thought of you.”
At your hesitation, your Orc offered it, “I promise I’ll be more careful when I go out in the next few weeks. See this as a pledge of that.” 
Biting your lip, you sighed. Your eyes traced the stitches on his face. You wanted to run your fingers across them, hoping that your touch could heal them. 
Taking the ring, you kissed the ruby. “You promise?” holding the ring to his lips.
Your Orc smiled and kissed it. “I swear on my life.”
658 notes · View notes
feralforfrank · 10 months
Note
Hi, I hope ur doing alright :)
Could u write something for Ghost, where he has trouble sleeping, so the reader gives him gentle back scratches until he‘s asleep? Just pure fluff pls. Thank youu🙏
back scratches.
SIMON "GHOST" RILEY X FEM!READER
cw none! fluffy drabble :) NON-DESCRIPTIVE READER
a/n i have so many unfinished drafts that i HAVE to post soon omg.
masterlist | taglist
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tangled up in your arms, simon sighs in exasperation. it's another night where he can't shut his eyes and mind off. the need is there, the exhaustion clawing at him like a feral animal, but every time he closes his eyes, his thoughts get loud. to avoid that, he wills himself to open his eyes, and this shit ends up being a never-ending cycle until the early morning hours.
simon smooths a hand over the bare skin of your lower back. his head is on your chest; your steady heartbeat is his only consolation. your cold fingers touch his hot skin in a comforting way that he's almost lulled back to sleep. 
it's like you can sense his discomfort. your eyes flutter open as simon shuffles into a better position. "why aren't you sleeping, love?" your voice is muffled by the mop of blond hair.
he just grunts in annoyance, and you softly smile. your eyes flutter close again, fingers finding the centre of his back. it's not the first time simon has had trouble sleeping. with his hectic schedule, even when on he's at home, he's always stressed. you know exactly what he wants.
the euphoric feeling of your hand travelling up and down left and right on his back, tracing imaginary steps and paths, almost melts him. 
he hums in response, head going absolutely empty. he can already feel himself slip into the welcoming darkness.
"you like it?" you whisper, containing the tired giggle trying to escape.
simon is practically purring, completely melted like an ice cream cone on a hot summer day. you know he'll be asleep soon, dead to the world for a couple of hours before he's back into his grumpy self.
you're half-asleep when you hear simon mutter something. "hm? what was that?" you lift your head enough to look down at him.
"you're awesome, lovie."
your head thumps back in the pillow, and you chuckle. "you're just saying that so i don't stop the back scratches."
"mmmaybe," you hit a good spot, "or maybe, you reeeeally are awesome." his fingers move in soft circles on your lower back, no doubt a way to repay your services.
you scoff. "don't worry. i won't stop." you circle a healed bullet hole. "arse kisser." you can't help but add.
his lips shift against you, turning upwards in a smile. he's out like a light moments later.
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[ taglist: @master-amidala @thaprilks @333-kay @-miiss-orihara- @leed-bbg @dayevans13 @abigatorchomp @ashersplaceofwriting @queencousland101 @emi11ie @eatingtheworldsoffanfiction ]
2K notes · View notes
pxob · 1 year
Text
angel eyes
Genya Shinazugawa x Fem!Reader
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Word count: 5524
Category: Enemies to lovers, slow burn romance, angst and fluff.
Warnings: Manga spoilers (if you squint), mentions of death, blood and injury and swearing.
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Prologue 
Kanae-sama and Shinobu-sama had taken you in as a child after a demon attack had brutally slaughtered your parents. From that day on, you harboured a deep resentment towards the foul creatures that had caused so much pain and suffering, not just to you but to countless others as well.
Despite the trauma you had endured, your gratitude towards the Kocho family never wavered. They had taken you in, provided you with a loving home, and helped you heal from the devastating loss of your parents. 
While Kanao was timid and obedient, you were more like a replica of Kanae-sama's personality - kind, loving, and easy-going, except when it came to your deep-seated resentment towards demons. 
Your bond with Kanae-sama was as tight as any sibling relationship could be. Shinobu-sama recognised your deep connection with her biological sister and would even let her strict personality slip around you. From dawn until dusk, you trained with Kanae-sama and shared meals with her every evening. You were inseparable, to the point where Shinobu-sama had to physically intervene to separate the two of you. 
Until she died at the hands of Upper Moon 2. The news spread like wildfire, and you threw yourself into training with tireless resolve, determined to become the Tsuguko that Kanae-sama had hoped for. 
Kanao and Shinobu-sama were worried about you day and night, and despite Kanao's silent presence, she never left your side. She was aware of the hole in your heart that may never be filled again after Kanae-sama's death. 
A part of you, gone. 
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“You’re not going to like this,” Aoi said as a way of greeting. She was standing at the sliding door of yours and Shinobu-sama’s research room. 
“Aoi-chan,” you looked up at her from your microscope. “What are you unhappy about now?” You teased. 
“Oh, it’s not me who's going to be unhappy,” Aoi said, giving you a knowing smile. You raised an eyebrow in curiosity as you heard a pair of unfamiliar footsteps approaching. 
Aoi stepped aside and introduced you to the boy. "This is Shinobu-sama's Tsuguko," she said, "She'll be giving you frequent check-ups, so please treat her with respect." Her words dripped with venom as she added, "And if you don't, I'll poison your medication." 
The boy stood in the same spot where Aoi had been moments before, his impressive height looming over her. He donned the uniform of a demon slayer, and his muscular physique strained against the tight sleeves. As you observed him closely, you couldn't help but count the numerous scars that littered his body. 
You also couldn't help but notice the unruly, unevenly cut hair on his head that resembled a rooster's comb. 
“You’re fucken kiddin’ me,” were his first words. 
You smiled in realisation, remembering clearly where you first met this boy.
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Upon reaching the mountain top, you both were met with the discord of yelling and bodies shifting aggressively on the cobblestone path. 
“This is for starin’ at me, ya yellow-headed freak,” the boy shouted as he grabbed the other young boy by his yellow kimono. 
The examinees were scattered, murmuring, yet none intervened. 
“I WASN’T STARING AT YOU!” He shrieked. 
Everyone held their breath, waiting to see what would happen next. 
“Ya were, dickwad,” the boy replied, his fist raised menacingly. 
Without hesitation, you swiftly made your way towards the boy, grabbing his wrist tightly. 
“It’s rude to assault strangers,” you said calmly, a smile plastered onto your face. 
"The fuck," he said aggressively as he tried to retract his wrist from your grasp, you tightened your grip even more. 
The yellow-haired boy fled the moment he saw an opening, tears streaming down his cheeks as he trembled uncontrollably. 
“Let go, bitch,” he spat out, face turning red. 
Kanao took a step toward him, a silent threat emanating from her. 
“It’s okay, Kanao,” you said kindly, “Some people are unfortunate to not have been taught basic manners.” 
The bystanders began to chuckle lightly. 
"One day, I hope he learns to be kind," you said, twisting his wrist firmly. "Otherwise, his attitude will be the death of him." You then took hold of his elbow, manoeuvring it into a lock and guided him towards the ground. 
A resonating thump followed as he hollered below you. 
“YOU FUCKEN BITCH I’LL SLAUGHTER YOU!” 
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“Your attitude has not changed since then it seems,” you stood, slowly walking towards him. 
He had grown an incredible amount in the short time since you last saw him, a clear indication of Himejima's rigorous training regimen and, most likely, his constant consumption of demon flesh. 
"Thank you for bringing him here, Aoi-chan," you said, the boy was staring back at you with a bewildered expression. "You may go now," you added, dismissing Aoi with a nod of your head. 
“Please come in,” you said, turning and leading the way towards the working desk, where there were two chairs on opposite sides of the table. “Please take a seat,” you gestured towards one of the chairs, noticing that the boy was still standing by the door. 
"I'm not coming in," he declares, looking down the hallway, averting his gaze. 
"Why is that? I won't bite," you joke with a friendly smile. But the boy remains rooted to the spot. 
“What’s your name?” you asked politely. 
“None of your business,” he snapped back. 
“Okay, none of your business,” he scoffed at that. “I’m going to be putting my valuable time and efforts into you-” 
“That was your choice,” he cut you off rudely.
Classic 
“Himejina-san informed me all about your case,” You walked towards the cabinet, situated on the far side of the room, where you stored all sorts of medicinal concoctions. Your gaze scanned the shelves, searching for the specific one you needed, after a few moments of searching, you finally found the right vial and walked back towards him. 
As you approached him, you noticed he was watching you every step of the way. You held out the vial and said, "I've created this specifically for your special case. It's designed to help mitigate any extraneous effects that may arise." 
The boy's eyes narrowed sceptically as he glanced back and forth between you and the vial. He hesitated before finally speaking up, "What if you poisoned this shit?" 
"Don't worry," you said. "It's completely safe.” 
He took the vial and inspected it closely. "Should you ever feel overwhelmed with the powers of the demons you consume, this should help ease it," you explained. "I recommend that you drink a tablespoon every half day and come back to me every week to check in on your progress." 
You took a step back from him and flashed a teasing smile. "And maybe then, you'll finally feel comfortable enough to share your name with me!" 
His face contorted into an irked expression, and he turned to walk away upon hearing your comment. As he strode down the hallway, you noticed him tuck the vial into his pocket and observed his ears turning red. 
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A few days later, a group of three new demon slayers arrived at the Butterfly Mansion and were granted the privilege of staying there. You recognised each one of them from the mountain top of the final selection. Among them was the yellow-haired boy named Zenitsu, who seemed to recognise you even more. He took a considerable liking to you, constantly fawning whenever he catches sight of you. 
But what surprised everyone was the presence of a demon among them. It was unprecedented to have a demon among the ranks of the demon slayers; however, despite this, you have taken a liking in investigating the demon named Nezuko. 
Kanae-sama had a goal of eventually living in peace with demons. If Kanae-sama were here, she would have loved Nezuko, a sweet young girl who can easily be seen as a younger sister figure to almost anyone. 
“Zenitsu-san, your drool is creating a puddle on the ground,” you said as you were training. 
He sighed dreamily, “You’re so radiant, etherial, powerful-” 
You promptly resumed your training as Zenitsu's words started to sound like white noise. 
As he continued to ogle over you, another presence approached the training grounds. He stopped immediately upon seeing you training, his eyes scanning over your movements with interest. 
He watched as you effortlessly destroyed every single bamboo target with just a few swings of your Nichirin blade. Your movements were so swift and precise, as if you were dancing through the air. He couldn't help but feel a tinge of jealousy and spite as he watched you move with such ease and grace. 
He wondered how many hours of practice and dedication it must have taken to reach such a level of skill. 
He could tell that you had been a Tsuguko for quite some time, likely honing your skills through rigorous training and practice. If you continued at this pace, he couldn't help but wonder if you might become a Hashira in a matter of months. And what was even more impressive was that you would be the second youngest among the Hashira, which made your potential all the more remarkable. 
The thought of someone else reaching such a high level of skill and potential while he remained stagnant infuriated him. It stung even more because he had always wanted to impress his brother, the only person he ever truly wanted to please. But seeing your abilities, he couldn't help but feel like he would never be good enough in his brother's eyes. 
You turned around, a smirk spreading across your face as beads of sweat rolled down your serene complexion. "Oh, didn’t see you there," you said with a chuckle. "I'm glad you came back."
Zenitsu's eyes snapped to where you were now looking and he yelped, "SCARY MAN!" 
The boy turned to face Zenitsu and said, "Piss off, creep.” 
His words made Zenitsu run to where his other two companions were within the mansion. 
You headed towards the engawa, where a carafe of water was waiting for you. As you walked away, he couldn't help but survey the damage you had done to all of your targets. It was clear that you had accomplished it all without using any specific techniques, leaving him in awe. "How did you do that?" he blurted out. 
As you finished gulping the water, swiping the rouge droplets from your chin you asked, “Do what?” 
He pointed towards the targets, now reduced to mere fragments joining with the dirt on the ground. 
You let out a small laugh, "How did I do it without using any breathing technique?" You walked towards his side, "You're quite observant. How about you tell me your name and I'll teach you a thing or two?" You teased. 
"Genya Shinazugawa," he replied straight to the point. 
You grinned and said, "I meditate for an hour every morning and night." 
He looked at you with disbelief and asked, "Ya kidding, right?" He visibly deflated and continued, "Ya tellin’ me you sit on your ass and breathe for two hours a day? That's fucken ridiculous," his tone laced with disdain. 
"You'll understand one day," you replied, a hint of amusement in your voice, and then pivoted on your heel. "Let's start your check-up, Genya-san." 
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“Take off your shirt,” you instructed. 
Genya stuttered in surprise, “What?” 
As you reached for the stethoscope from the table drawer, you said, "I need to listen to your lungs and heart for any defects.” 
“Oh.” 
Respecting Genya's privacy, you continued facing the opposite direction as he removed his upper layers. You could hear the rustling of clothes and then the sound of them falling to the floor. Once you sensed that he had finished, you turned around to face him. 
You couldn't help but marvel at his physique. At his age, he was unbelievably ripped with muscles and scars that seemed to accentuate his sculpted form, as if he was crafted from the finest quality marble. You rubbed your eyes, pretending as if something had gotten into them and then looked at him, only to find that he was already staring back at you. 
“Please have a seat,” you gestured towards the chair beside the table. 
He complied, appearing to be more cooperative than before. You pulled a stool in front of him and noticed him tense up, every muscle in his body taut. 
You clenched your jaw, put on the earpieces, and carefully placed the stethoscope on his left pectoral, listening to the booming beat of his heart.
 "Why is your heart beating so quickly, Genya-san?" You prodded, looking up at him through your lashes. 
"Drank tea," he replied too quickly. 
As you removed the stethoscope from his pectoral and stood up, you noticed that he was staring out the window. 
"Are you nervous, Genya-san?" you asked, trying to provoke a response. 
He snapped his eyes toward you. "Fuck no," he said, his voice tense. 
You towered over him as he remained seated in the chair, observing the way his jaw clenched and unclenched and his hands balled up in fists. Maintaining eye contact, you slowly walked around to his back and brought the stethoscope above his scapula. 
“Genya-san,” you said softly. 
"What?" he said sharply. 
"Your lungs aren't expanding and contracting properly," you pointed out, a clear indication that he was holding his breath. "I'm going to need you to take some deep breaths for me."
Reluctantly, he complied and you listened carefully to his breathing. His lungs seemed to be contracting more than they should for someone at rest. 
You took a step back and removed the stethoscope, gaping at the size of his back. Quickly, you shook your head, trying to clear the improper thoughts that had crept into your mind. 
He hastily gathered the clothes lying on the floor and put them on. “Has the medicine been helpful to you in any way?” you asked. 
He responded with a grunt. 
“I need you to respond verbally, Genya-san,” you insisted. 
“Yes,” he snapped. 
"Very well," you said, making your way to the table and focusing on the array of ingredients on your shelves, trying to regain your composure. 
"You're healthy. I'll just need you to avoid drinking tea before our next check-up," you concluded. 
You heard the sound of the door sliding opening. "Please close the door on your way out," you said delicately, not turning around to face him. He did exactly that, saying nothing but walking out of the room. You swore under your breath. 
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As he sped down the hallway, his mind raced and his heart pounded with a sense of urgency. 
He knew he couldn't deal with you anymore. The thought of being trapped within four walls with you made his stomach leap, a clear indication of disgust.
Your soft spoken voice, loving eyes and kind touches had a way of making him feel at ease. He couldn't help but notice how you treated everyone with kindness, even those who mistreated you. It was intoxicating and he couldn't comprehend how someone could be so selfless. 
Your angel eyes saw good in many evil, it was something that both repulsed and charmed him at the same time. He couldn't understand how you could be so forgiving and compassionate, yet he found himself drawn to it like a moth to a flame. 
As he rushed out of the mansion, he bumped into a red-headed boy, barely registering his presence. The boy yelled something after him, but all Genya could think of was getting away from you. He needed to breathe, to clear his head, because the more he allowed himself to be drawn towards you, the more his carefully constructed plan to reach his brother began to crumble. 
He knew he couldn't afford to let himself catch feelings for you. It would only make things more complicated and could jeopardise everything he had worked so hard for. But the more he thought about you, the more he found himself unable to resist your angelic nature. 
Genya's frustration boiled over as he ran his hands through his hair, yanking on his locks in anger. "FUCK!" he shouted, lashing out and kicking a nearby rock, sending it careening into the trees. 
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Today was the day of another weekly checkup. 
You were prepared, steeling yourself to remain professional and composed despite the tension that lingered between you. 
As you waited for Genya's arrival, you reviewed your notes and made sure everything was in order. Despite trying to remain composed, you couldn't help but feel a tinge of anxiety in the pit of your stomach. 
It was a little late, later than he had previously arrived. You tried to push the feeling aside, reminding yourself that anything could have delayed him and it was better to wait patiently. 
The sun had already set and the night stars were becoming prominent outside your window. 
"Where is he?" you muttered to yourself, glancing at the clock on the wall. 
You couldn't help but wonder if he was deliberately avoiding the appointment, perhaps because of his stubborn nature or his reluctance to be confined in the medical room. 
So be it, Genya. 
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Despite trying to distract yourself with training, your thoughts kept wandering back to Genya. It had been several days since you last saw him, and you couldn't help but wonder where he was and what he was doing. 
But you pushed those thoughts aside and focused on your role as a mentor to Tanjiro, Inosuke, and Zenitsu. You spent long hours helping them hone their skills and improve their techniques. Tanjiro, in particular, showed remarkable progress and you couldn't help but feel proud of him. 
"Tanjiro-san, you're improving at an astonishing rate!" You praised him. 
"It's all thanks to everyone here, including you," he replied with a grin. 
One of the things that made you happiest was being able to help others. You had a big heart and always went out of your way to offer assistance, even when it wasn't necessary. Seeing others improve and achieve their goals gave you a sense of fulfilment that was hard to describe. 
"You too Inosuke-san, well done!" You gave his arm a genuine squeeze, acknowledging his effort. 
Inosuke mumbled something behind his mask, but you could sense the delight in his tone. 
Zenitsu, on the other hand, couldn't help but interject. 
"But what about me,” he whined. "Am I improving too?" 
"Well, Zenitsu-san, you're definitely...trying," you said diplomatically. 
Zenitsu pouted, clearly hoping for more praise, but you knew he had a lot of work to do before he could truly become a skilled demon slayer. 
Despite his flaws, however, you couldn't help but feel a soft spot for him. You looked around the training grounds and realised you needed to get back to your research. 
"I'll leave you all to your training," with a wave goodbye, you turned and walked away while they bowed in response. 
As you strode, you heard the sound of yelling and pleading coming from inside the mansion.
Your curiosity piqued, you quickened your pace and soon noticed droplets of blood on the hardwood floor. Your hand instinctively reached for the hilt of your sword. 
Running, you followed the trails of blood and desperate cries, your heart racing with fear and anticipation. Finally, you skidded to a stop, frozen at the sight before you. 
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Genya had always been aware of the risks that came with being a demon slayer. But this particular demon had been stronger than he had anticipated and had managed to inflict injuries that were more severe than he was used to.
Genya relied on consuming the flesh of other demons to heal his own wounds, but this time he had not been successful in consuming a single thing from the demon. This lack of regeneration made the wounds even more excruciating and difficult to deal with. 
Despite the pain, his first thought was to find you, the medical expert who could treat his injuries. He knew that he needed your help to heal and get back on his feet. With that in mind, he had managed to make his way to the mansion, gritting his teeth through the pain as he focused on reaching you. 
Naho, Kiyo, and Sumi trembled in fear as Genya strode through the gates of the Butterfly Mansion, paying no heed to his open wounds. 
He was stubborn to reach you. He trusted only you to treat him or even touch him. 
Blood dripped from his wounds, leaving a trail on the floorboards of the mansion as he made his way towards your office. He ignored the cries of the three girls, driven solely by the hunger to reach you. 
“You’re dripping blood on the floor, please stop!” Naho begged. 
“Let us help you, Genya-sama, it will only get worse!” Kiyo added. 
“Shut up,” he snarled. He didn't mean to sound so hostile, but he needed to reach you without distractions. 
The sound of the girls’ screams echoed in Genya’s ears as he shoved his way towards your office, ignoring the pain that shot through his body with every step. 
His hand left bloody smears on the door as he pushed it open, desperate to find you. But when he stumbled into the room, he found it empty. 
His vision was blurry, and he was seeing spots, the pain almost unbearable. He staggered backwards, using the wall to steady himself as he tried to call out for you. 
Suddenly, he heard the skid of someone stopping behind the three girls who were still screaming in terror. He turned his head, his eyes fixing on you as you stood there with your hand on the hilt of your sword. 
You were frozen in place, clearly shocked by the bloody and battered figure of him. 
“Genya Shinazugawa!” You gasped in shock, your hand instinctively flying to cover your mouth. 
You gently moved Sumi out of the way to reach him. As you got closer, you saw the bloody handprints on the door and the exhaustion on Genya's face. Your heart sank at the sight of his injuries. 
“Please prepare the first aid materials in the infirmary,” you commanded the three girls, they ran quickly. 
"Genya, what happened?" You asked, your voice trembling with concern as you took a closer look at him. 
“Demon,” he said softly. “In a lotta pain,” he added. 
You nodded, your mind already racing with what needed to be done. "Let’s get you cleaned up,” you said. 
You gently took Genya's hand and led him towards the infirmary, careful not to aggravate his wounds. Despite the excruciating pain he must have been experiencing, he stiffened at the sudden contact. You noticed this and quickly dropped your hand, apologising, "Sorry, I should have asked." 
Genya grabbed your hand and held it tightly. "No," he said, "I liked it." 
Your eyes widened at his bold statement, and a blush crept onto your face. You could feel your heart pounding in your chest as you led him into the infirmary.
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After a few hours of tending to Genya's wounds, he finally succumbed to exhaustion and fell into a deep slumber. 
You sat by his bedside, watching over him as he slept. As you gazed at him, you noticed how peaceful he looked, with his breathing slow and steady. 
With your heightened senses, you slowly turned to catch a glimpse of a white-haired man standing silently by the door. 
He lifted his index finger to his lips, signalling for you to stay quiet. 
You nodded in understanding, still surprised by his unexpected arrival. 
He sat himself softly on Genya's bed and pressed a kiss onto his forehead. Your eyes widened as you pieced together the resemblance between the two of them. 
Sanemi Shinazugawa left a kiss on his brother's forehead. 
After Sanemi finished looking at his brother, satisfied with the amount of care given to him, he walked towards you and whispered in your ear, “Thank you.” He then walked out of the room. 
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The next morning, you decided to bring breakfast to Genya, wanting to compensate for his sore body with a meal served in bed. As you entered the room, you found him sitting up and staring out of the window, watching the lush trees dance in the fresh air. 
"Good morning," you greeted him with a beautiful smile, holding a tray of food in your hands. 
"Mornin’," he grumbled, his voice still heavy with sleep. 
You couldn't help but feel a little flustered at the sound of his voice. 
"I brought you some food," you said, making your way to him. "May I sit?" you gestured towards the bed. 
"Feel free," he replied softly. 
You sat down next to him and placed the food on his lap, pouring a glass of water from his side table. Genya was about to grab a spoonful of food for himself, but you gave him a warning glance. 
"What?" he looked confused. 
You took the spoon from his fingers and guided it to his mouth, feeding him yourself. 
His face turned bright red as he promptly covered it with his large hand, grabbing your wrist. "I can feed myself," he whispered. 
"I know," you replied with a teasing smile. "But I can't help enjoy seeing you blush.” 
He stared at you intently, as if searching for something in your eyes. 
“You need to eat, Genya-san,” you reminded him. 
He opened his mouth and you brought the spoonful of food towards him. He gratefully accepted it and sighed in satisfaction after swallowing it. Then, you brought the glass of water to his cracked lips. 
Water escaped from his mouth and dribbled down his chin. You quickly wiped it away with your thumb, but as soon as your skin made contact with his, you felt a jolt run through you. You looked up at him and noticed that his eyes had clouded over and his ears were red. 
"I'M SO JEALOUS!" Zenitsu exclaimed loudly. 
"Shut up!" Inosuke swatted Zenitsu’s head. 
Genya turned his attention to the door, where Zenitsu, Inosuke, and Tanjiro were peeking in. 
"Get. The. Fuck. Out!" Genya bellowed, his patience clearly wearing thin.
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"Nezuko-chan," you said while sitting on the engawa, gently smoothing out her hair. She was lying on your lap as the two of you basked in the moonlight. 
She let out an enthusiastic hum, and her small hands reached up to grasp yours, nuzzling her cheek against your palm. 
The gesture made your heart swell with warmth, and you couldn't help but think that this is how Kanae-sama must have felt when you were younger. 
You chuckled softly as you noticed Genya’s attempting to spy on the two of you from the hallways of the mansion. "Ganya-san thinks I can't see him spying on us," you said with amusement. 
He made his presence even more obvious by speaking up, "Ya know you got a demon on your lap, right?" he said. 
"I am most aware," you smiled at him. 
The moonlight highlighted your features even more, making you look ethereal. 
"Why do you smile," he asked, his curiosity piqued. "When you feel so angry all the time?" 
His sudden analysis caught you off guard, and you couldn't help but feel a little surprised. 
Nezuko gazed up at you, her eyes full of curiosity and admiration. You couldn't help but think of Kanae-sama and how she used to play with your hair in the same way you were now with Nezuko. 
Genya's words had stirred up memories of Kanae-sama and the pain of her loss came flooding back. Your throat started to tighten, and tears welled up in your eyes. "Fuck," Genya was taken aback by your sudden change in attitude.
Nezuko's sudden embrace took you by surprise. You cried hard on her shoulder, the memories of Kanae-sama and the pain of losing her flooded back to you. Your tears wet her kimono, but she didn't seem to mind. It was as if she understood your pain, despite being a demon. 
Genya watched with a mixture of confusion and concern. He had never seen this side of you before, and it made him realise how little he knew about you. He always saw you as the kind-hearted person with a beautiful smile on your face, always ready to help anyone in need. 
It was difficult for him to see you in so much pain, and he didn't know how to comfort you. 
He hesitantly placed a hand on your head, and you made a muffled sound of surprise from the sudden touch. You turned around and looked at him through your wet lashes, tears still running down your cheeks. 
“I got you,” he said, looking you in the eyes and giving you soft smile. 
He sat down next to you, allowing his shoulder to touch yours. You felt a flutter in your chest at the contact and didn't dare move, afraid the moment might end. 
You looked down to check on Nezuko, she had fallen asleep in your embrace.
Genya's took your hand in his, it was so warm in yours as he ran his thumb along your knuckles. 
You leaned your head on his shoulder, enjoying the feeling of being close to him as you both gazed up at the night sky. 
“The moon is beautiful, isn’t it?” You asked, breaking the comfortable silence.
Genya shifted slightly, looking down at you. "Yeah," he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper. "So beautiful."
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Two months had passed since Genya started his frequent check-ups, and your relationship had blossomed into something beautiful. You found comfort and joy in each other's company, and Genya seemed to have found a sense of purpose being around you. 
On this particular day, the two of you were sitting on the engawa, overlooking the stunning garden of the butterfly mansion. The fragrant scent of flowers wafted through the air, and the gentle rustling of leaves added to the serene atmosphere. 
You had previously mentioned to Genya that you would meditate for two hours a day, and he had expressed interest in joining you. 
Sitting in silence, Genya found it increasingly difficult to stay still. His legs were losing feeling, his nose was itching, and he was just so close yet so far from you. It was pissing him off that he couldn't hold your hand, kiss your forehead, or have you play with his hair. 
As he tried to resist the urge to sneeze, Genya's nose continued to twitch uncontrollably. He was growing increasingly uncomfortable sitting in silence next to you, struggling to maintain stillness during meditation. He wanted nothing more than to hold your hand, feel the warmth of your touch, or have you play with his hair. But he knew that any movement on his part would break the stillness of the moment. 
Despite his discomfort, he refused to touch his nose. He had noticed that you had an amazing sense of spatial awareness, and he didn't want to risk breaking the peaceful atmosphere with even the slightest movement. So, he tried to hold on as long as possible, hoping the sneeze would subside on its own. 
It did not, it only got worst. 
He slowly opened one eye, feeling a bit apprehensive about disturbing your meditation, but then he couldn't resist the urge to steal a glance at you. However, he quickly regretted it when he realised that you were already staring back at him, a small smile on your face. 
"Have you been starin’ at me all this fucken time?" he snarled. 
"Yep," you chirped. 
"You little-" Genya was about to say something but you jumped up, giggling, and ran towards the garden. 
As you both tumbled to the grass, laughter filled the air. You could feel the soft blades of grass tickling your skin as Genya playfully pinned you down, his weight making it impossible for you to move. You looked up at him, his chest heaving from the chase, his eyes burning with mischief. 
You playfully pouted, pretending to be upset that Genya had caught you, but your smile gave you away. 
Genya couldn't help but notice the pout on your lips, and his eyes flickered back and forth between your eyes and mouth. He hesitated for a moment, unsure whether he should make a move, but before he could do anything, you took the initiative. 
You pulled him towards you and pressed your lips against his. 
He was frozen at first, hands grabbing chunks of grass in an attempt to restrict himself, but he couldn't resist your allure. You whispered his name, which undid him, and he responded by deepening the kiss. 
As the kiss broke, both of you were left breathless. Genya looked into your eyes, his gaze intense and filled with emotion. Without a word, you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him closer to you, while he pulled you onto his lap. 
For a few moments, both of you remained entranced in each other's presence, the world around you fading away as your hearts beat as one. 
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1K notes · View notes
reiderwriter · 5 months
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could you write a fic with a fem reader where spencer’s going through withdrawal and he’s being like snappy and stuff when she’s just trying to help? idk if that makes sense?
A/N: Thank you so much for the request! I'm sorry it took me so long ㅠㅠ I hope this is everything you were looking for!!
Pairing: Spencer Reid × GN! reader
Warnings: mentions of drug use, mentions of addiction in the family, and spoilers for Season 2 of Criminal Minds.
You can check out my masterlist here!
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In comparison with the other members of the BAU, you had the most experience with recovery. So you knew that it wasn't easy. Spencer Reid didn't. 
The moment you'd noticed him stepping out on the team, spending more time isolated and with a shorter temper, you knew. Tobias Hankel had only tortured Spencer for a day, but he was still inside him even months later. 
The day you realised he was using, you moved yourself into his apartment. 
“Hi,” you said as he opened the doors, bleary-eyed from whatever hit he just dealt himself. “My apartment flooded, and I had nowhere else to go.” 
Spencer Reid would always help others before he helped himself. It took a few more hours to broach the discussion of the drugs, but when you did get him to give in, you could feel the weight flowing off his shoulders. 
“I can't get his face out of my mind. The drugs, they help. And I know they're not really helping, but it's like I'm not strong enough to care.” He'd broken down into tears, placed his supply on the tables in front of you  and picked open the wound that had never fully healed properly. 
Step one to recovery was accepting you needed help. Step two was harder. 
Slowly decreasing his intake until he was free of the drug. Watching him for any negative reactions in the field and at home, dealing with the underlying trauma. 
You had to talk to Hotch about it, of course. But he knew about your father, and to a certain extent, you knew about his. A single shared look was enough for you both to agree that Spencer needed everyone's support. 
So you dropped him off at his meetings. You picked him up afterwards. You watched him in the field for any mention of addiction and drug-related psychosis that could lead him down a dark path of what ifs. 
You held his hand. You kissed his head. You were there. 
Even when he tried to show you he didn't deserve it. 
“Spencer,” you'd started the conversation trying to get his attention, knowing from the far away look that he was missing the numbness that came with the high. 
“Spencer, you look tense. Are you okay?” He'd whipped his head around at the words, a scowl on his face. 
“You don't need to hover over me like I'm a child, Y/N.” 
“I want to know that you're okay.” You said back, pouring yourself a glass of water to calm yourself again. Sometimes, Spencer made every little question an attack, and you had to learn to dodge the blows.
“I can take care of myself.”
“I want to take care of you.” Your calm reply had him angrier though, as he snorted with a single reply. 
“Like you took care of your dad? That worked out so well, didn't it.” 
Ten years and any mention of the man who had raised you still had you freezing in shock. You almost didn't notice when your glass tumbled to the ground, to be smashed into a thousand tiny pieces.
It was almost as if the crash woke Spencer up from his stupor, his gaze growing regretful as he stood and approached you quickly. 
With a hand and a shake of a head, you stopped him, though.
“Let me clear the large pieces on my own. I don't want you to get hurt.” Kneeling, you did just that, picking out recognisable edges and sides and transporting them carefully into the trash. 
“I'm not going to sit here and let you do all the work, Y/N. I'm… I'm sorry.” His voice whispered those last few words as he kneeled next to you  sweeping the glass up, careful not to cut himself on it. 
You wiped the tears from your eyes as both of you worked busily, letting your argument hang in the air between you.
“I know you're sorry, Spencer,” you whispered as the two of you worked, still not brave enough to look him in the eyes. “My dad was, too. He never meant it, though.” 
“I mean it.” He stopped moving, and you finally looked up to his eyes, to the life there that sparked, that had been buried by Tobias Hankel. Motivation. 
With the glass cleared, he stood, reaching out a hand to you to help you up. You took it, letting him assist you. He didn't let go after, though. Not immediately. 
He stepped closer, and you relaxed into his chest, resting an ear over his heart. It was still beating, and that was what mattered. 
“I can't fix you, Spencer. I can't make this better. I can't do that for you, because you have to do it for yourself. That's what my dad never understood.” Your voice was barely audible, but you knew he could hear and knew he was listening. 
“I can't reverse what he did to you. But I promise, I will be here to remind you that you are a good man. To remind you of what you are like when you're you  how much I love you, how much we all love you.”
“I'll stand next to you and look into that mirror every morning and tell you what I see. A good man on the bad days, the same man on the good days. I don't want to fix you, Spencer. I want to love you, and I want you to accept that you're worth it.”
His head rested on top of yours, and you could feel his small wrecks of tears as he sniffled. Inhaling your scent, he could've spent the night wrapped in your arms like that.
“Thank you. For saying that. For being here. I know it's not easy.” 
“It's not. But you're worth it.” Clinging to him, you let the moments tick by, never releasing him from your warm embrace. 
571 notes · View notes
randxmthxughts · 1 year
Text
Chosen by Eywa - The Dream Hunt - Chapter 1
chapter 2 →
summary: eywa makes no mistakes... in the midst of his preparation to become the future olo'eyktan, neteyam is told to be with a chosen mate. guided by the signs of eywa, tsahik picks y/n, a woman orphaned by the war, whose heart already belongs to another
contains: arranged marriage, mentions of war and grief, angst, one-sided enemies to lovers
wc: 4.6k
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a/n: i just wanted to say a major THANK YOU for 4k and for the support you have shown for this series before i even posted anything 😭 i hope this meets your expectations, and i am very excited for the next chapters
chosen by eywa masterlist | general avatar masterlist
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Eywa makes no mistakes. Y/N had clung to these words her whole life, since the day her parents were taken by the merciless war against the sky people. She found comfort in knowing that her journey was already prewritten, destined for a greater purpose. But she had never expected for Eywa to turn her world upside down, forcing her to question everything she believed in, and lead her to a love that she never imagined possible…
The scent of smoldering herbs filled the air, mingling with the soft groans and hushed whispers of the healers attending to the small party of warriors. Y/N's deft hands worked quickly, spreading the last thick layer of healing poultice over the gash on his arm. He winced at the searing pain, then let out a weak chuckle at his own reaction.
"Mawey," she murmured to the injured warrior, her voice sweet with warmth that she failed to conceal, “We are done.” Their eyes met briefly, and a blush crept up Y/N's cheeks.
She turned away, to hide a small smile that tugged at the corners of her lips, and stepped closer to Kiri to search for another remedy in their shared basket. Neteyam, sitting beneath his sister's tender ministrations, winced slightly. His eyes then spotted Y/N, who was rifling through the herbs and ointments, though her thoughts seemed to drift somewhere else.
“What are you looking for?” Kiri asked, poking her head out from behind her brother.
“Oh,” Y/N turned, flashing the siblings a sheepish smile, “Was just making sure that we had enough eanean.”
Kiri nodded, though she was hardly convinced. Having worked with Y/N side by side for years now, she had grown to read her subtle moods. Over the past few months especially, with the increased work, the two women had become closer, and Kiri had suspected that there was something going on between Y/N and Kaye, the warrior she was just tending to. But she ultimately decided not to intervene. 
“I still don’t understand how you even crossed paths with those skxawngs at the Eastern border,” Kiri returned to the conversation she was having with her brother.
"They were lying in wait," Neteyam answered, his gaze still fixated on Y/N, "I don't know how they figured out we'd be there today, but they attacked us from above."
"That's very bad," Kiri sighed, applying fresh bandages to his back, “What if there were more of them?”
She circled to stand in front of her brother, while her eyes darted around the spacious tent. The healing tent had been expanded due to Mo’at’s request, who had decided that the old one was too cramped. Mo’at also took on more students because of the attacks from the sky people, and the clan now boasted a larger number of healers than ever before.
"We probably wouldn't have made it out alive," Neteyam sighed, disappointed. 
The future Olo’yektan saw no point in hiding the intensity of the day’s event; he had barely escaped his own death earlier. He was assigned to lead the party, and the weight of bringing his warriors to safety was heavy on his shoulders. How could he ensure they would never end up in the same situation again? Getting trapped by the sky people, almost facing death. He couldn’t help but feel insecure in his own ability as the future chief, maybe he wasn’t ready to pass his Dream Hunt yet.
Kiri's shoulders slumped in response, though the answer wasn't difficult to guess. She stole a quick glance at Y/N, who seemed to be frozen in place, listening to the conversation. If anything happened to Kaye, if she lost another person she loved to the war, would she be able to bear it?
The familiar touch of Kaye's hand on her back broke Y/N out of her thoughts. As he passed by, uttering a grateful "thank you," she blushed deeply, but the worry in her eyes was not lost on Neteyam.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
Y/N dipped her feet into the cold water, feeling the soreness starting to slip away from her body. The river was serene, calming her, as she had been on her feet all day, working under the watchful eyes of Mo’at and tending to the injured warriors. Kaye, who sat next to her, nudged her thigh with his. She could feel the warmth of his body against hers, his canines peeking out with a small smirk.
“You know I don’t like it when you are upset with me,” he said, nudging her again playfully, “Y/N.”
Her ears twitched, as she turned to look at him with a hint of annoyance at how unserious he was being. He had accidentally blabbered about his stupid idea to take on two geared up sky people at once and almost lost his arm during the encounter.
“The Great Mother may have looked after you today, but it won’t always be so,” she said firmly, “I lost my parents to a slip-up like this. Eywa does not intervene in these matters.”
“I know,” Kaye cupped her cheek tenderly, recognizing the reminiscing in her eyes, “I will be more careful.”
She leaned into his touch, eyes closing for a moment with a small sigh. Her mind wandered back to the memories of her parents. It was a pain that never fully went away, a constant ache that still kept her up at nights.
“I worry about you, Kaye,” she murmured.
“And I worry about you,” he replied softly, his thumb rubbing circles on her cheekbone, “Which is why I think it is time to tell my family about us.”
Y/N blinked at him, feeling the familiar spark of hope ignite within her, but she quickly pushed it aside. She had heard these words from Kaye before, a promise that he had broken time and time again. His family held importance in the clan, his parents were strict, determined to arrange a mate for Kaye, just like they did for the rest of their children. And she was never worthy of their attention. She had nothing to offer to them. Kaye knew that too well, but he continued to give both of them false hopes of a bright future together.
“You don’t have to, it is no rush,” she mumbled, wondering if her devotion to him would ever be matched, “I don’t want you to fight with your parents.”
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Like in the womb of Pandora, surrounded by the elders and the Tsahik, Neteyam proudly wore the white paint on his body as he silently took a seat in the middle of the circle. His mother lingered behind with a mixture of worry and pride on her face; she had looked forward to the day her firstborn passed the Dream Hunt, but the earlier encounter with the sky people had shaken her slightly. What if Neteyam was too tired and wouldn’t survive his uniltaron? Jake threw an assurring arm around her shoulder, pulling her into his chest, and she gratefully complied, peeking at her son with a smile. Jake was grinning, confident that Neteyam, who had already accomplished so much at his age, would pass his trial with ease. He had prepared for it for months, what’s one more rite?
The chanting began to pick up with the beginning of the ritual, and knowing his role too well, Neteyam opened his mouth willingly when Mo'at approached him with a glowing worm hanging from her fingers. The worm wiggled around as Neteyam closed his lips around it and chewed it down. The smoke from burning herbs filled his nose and eyes, burning all the way to his lungs. 
The chant grew louder and more hypnotic, and the taste of the worm on his tongue numbed his buds like a torch. Neteyam felt his body vibrate involuntarily, and as his father placed an arachnoid on his neck, he felt it stung him twice mercilessly. Neteyam squeezed his eyes shut, blocking out the noise and the pain, as his mind began to slip into a trance. He could feel his lungs give out with a sharp pain and as he desperately gasped for air, it seemed like he was falling, spiraling down with nothing to grab onto. His heartbeat suddenly was louder, faster in his ears, thumping in a rhythm as he plummeted it down. The world went dark, and when he opened his eyes, Neteyam saw himself in the forest, surrounded by mist.
His body went limp for a moment, bright sunlight blinding his vision. He gathered his energy and barely moved to his feet, when with a sudden gust of wind, a banshee flew right above him, so close to the ground that it almost threw him off. Instinctively, Neteyam reached to cover his eyes with his hand, and then he was no longer himself.
His body ached, as it began to stretch out. His hands were growing, transforming into wings, as venom flowed through his blood, he was suddenly floating above the forest. It was like he was on the back of his ikran but the feeling was more intense. Unmistakably, his mind was no longer his own, Neteyam saw and felt through the banshee.
A rush of adrenaline burst through him, and Neteyam, for the first time in his life, was free, as he soared through the sky. He couldn’t express it, but he could feel it somewhere in his heart that this is what he was meant to be. One with Eywa.
As he flew over the trees, he spotted and neared closer to himself. His own Na’vi body stood small and fragile from the new point of view. But there was also somebody else standing next to him. A woman holding his hand. She was laughing, her voice vibrantly filled his ears with a pleasant sound. A long necklace wrapped around her neck and hung all the way down to her stomach, adorned with big beads, glistening under the sun, and blue feathers. Her hair was let down in soft waves, and her face… When Neteyam tried tracing her features, he realized he couldn’t. The image began to slip away from him, and he felt his body betray him once again…
Suddenly, his eyes flew open, the darkness of the cave enveloping him. His trembling body was arched, palms digging into the soil beneath him, sweat rolling down his face in big drops. Neteyam took a moment to regain his breath, heart pounding.
“It is finished,” Mo’at’s voice broke the silence, words echoing through the cave.
Neteyam winced slightly at the loudness and rubbed his eyes to regain his vision. He could feel the eyes of elderly on him, then the relief in his mother’s voice, as she rushed to his side. Her hands reached for his face, massaging his temples.
“Did you see your spirit animal?” Neytiri asked with a smile, her eyes brimming with curiosity.
Neteyam nodded weakly, a small smile of his own stretching across his lips. 
“I saw an ikran… I was the ikran!” he exclaimed, his laughter filling the cave.
Jake and Neytiri joined in his giddy laughter, the rest of the circle smiling in approval. Neytiri pulled her son into a tight embrace.
“We are very proud of you, son,” Jake said, crouching down next to them and patting Neteyam’s head, knowing exactly what he went through.
“Thank you,” Neteyam smiled, then as if he remembered another vision from his Dream Hunt, continued, “But I saw something else too!”
Mo’at approached him hastily, making a room for herself, as she splayed her fingers against Neteyam’s face. She peered into his amber eyes with curiosity, urging him to continue.
“I saw a woman,” he smiled, the memory returning to him, “She was holding my hand… well, the hand of my Na’vi body.”
Neytiri gasped softly, her eyes widening with shock. Mo’at’s expression remained stoic, though she gripped Neteyam’s shoulder. 
“Did you recognize her, child?” she questioned, concealing her surprise.
“No, I couldn’t see her face,” Neteyam shook his head with a slight disappointment, “She was a Na’vi woman. But I couldn’t see her clearly.” He looked to his father, seeking answers, but found only confusion there. 
Neytiri and Mo’at shared a knowing glance before rising to their feet. Neytiri brought her hands to her chest, anxiety etched onto her features. Jake registered it immediately, now alerted too by their reactions. 
“Is something wrong?” he whispered to her.
She looked back at him, confusion marring her expression. She wasn’t really sure what it meant, only knew that Eywa very rarely sent a vision during the uniltaron. Mo’at circled around Neteyam, the air thick with tension. He waited patiently, his eyes trained on his grandmother, though he was already a little worried by how long she waited to speak. She took a step back and motioned for him to stand up. He complied, his body still weak.    
“The Great Mother had blessed you with another vision, a peek into your destiny,” Mo’at’s tone was serious. 
Jake’s ears perked up, unsure if it should excite him or scare him. He looked around the cave, seeking for a similar reaction, but everyone except him and Neteyam seemed to have an idea of what it meant. 
“What does it mean, grandmother?” Neteyam asked carefully.
“It is time, Neteyam,” Mo’at spoke with a glimmer of pride in her eyes, “The Great Mother thinks you are ready to take a mate. Your journey begins now.”
Neytiri wrapped her arms around her son once more with a bittersweet smile. She seemed relieved by the explanation. Neteyam, like the perfect son, had passed every rite on his own. Now it was time for him to face the rest of his challenges with a woman by his side, someone he would love and cherish. He wouldn’t have to be alone anymore. Jake watched with the same confused expression on his face, ever so often glancing at Neytiri to try and understand how he should react.
“If you have already chosen a mate in secret from the clan, you must reveal it now, child,” Mo’at spoke again. 
“No, grandmother, I have not chosen,” Neteyam shook his head firmly, “I am not mated with anyone.”
“Very well,” Mo’at heaved a sigh, then tilted her head slightly, “Do you have anyone in mind for the role?” 
“No,” he shook his head again, this time slightly embarrassed by his own answer. It was the only thing he lacked so far, “I didn’t have time for that.”
The words brought a pang of guilt to his parents. They both lowered their ears immediately, feeling fully responsible for raising their son with such a weighty burden on his shoulders.
“Good. Then the search begins,” Mo’at announced, “You will hear the answer soon.”
Neteyam felt his heart sink. His mouth hung open, as he looked around the cave for support but the elderly only seemed content with the decision and began to disperse. He would hear the answer? Were they going to decide for him? Of course, arranging bonds was quite common and successful in his clan, especially within the line of Olo’eyktans. Their mates were chosen carefully, keeping in mind that the couples had to be strong enough to lead their people through thick and thin. But he was content with his life as of now, exploring the forests and working on his skills. Neteyam didn’t feel ready, despite his vision. He glanced at his father, who was now frowning and clearly holding himself back from speaking, biding his time until they were left alone to discuss the matter further.
“Neteyam, you should go to the celebration, your brother and sisters have been waiting for you this whole time," Neytiri spoke softly.
"But mother -" Neteyam tried to protest.
"No buts, boy," his father interjected, “You did well. Go celebrate."
“Fine,” Neteyam nodded, his voice falling to a whisper.
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It has been a few days since Neteyam passed his Dream Hunt, but he was already impatient for his grandmother’s decision. It could take her months to make it, yet he couldn’t help the anxiousness. Was he too late to choose a mate for himself? What made it worse was the conversations he overheard between his parents. He tiptoed around the corner of his family tent, his mind already racing with conflicting thoughts. He had gathered every argument and piled it into a high tower, ready to unravel it onto his parents, but as their voices grew louder, he couldn't help but eavesdrop.
"I can’t believe you’re going along with this, Neytiri," Jake's voice echoed, his tone growing more exasperated by the second. "He should have a choice in who he wants to spend his life with."
"He didn’t make a choice in time," Neytiri replied, her voice firm, "But the Great Mother has. A mate has already been chosen by Eywa.”
“And what if he doesn’t like this arrangement? You were in his place once,” Jake was upset. He had never expected Neytiri to agree with Mo’at’s decision.
“Ma’Jake,” Neytiri sighed, “Eywa makes no mistakes. Neteyam received a clear sign, it would be foolish to ignore it.”
Neteyam's heart skipped a beat at her words. His mother seemed determined that it was the right step to take, and deep down, he thought he agreed with her. He had to trust in the wisdom of Eywa. Yet, Neteyam was scared because of his own helplessness. 
“I don’t know…” Jake trailed off. 
It wasn't fair play, arguing with Tsahik’s decision, with Eywa’s signs. Jake may have lived on Pandora for over 20 years, having been reborn as a Na’vi, but he still felt like an outsider when it came to the traditions of the clan. He wasn’t going to enforce his opinions with his position as Toruk Makto and go against everyone. But he also didn’t want to see his son suffer.
Neteyam sighed before stepping into the tent and revealing himself. Both of his parents stiffened, having suspected that he overheard their conversation. He felt caught between two and he had no other choice but to put a stop to it.
“‘Itan,” Neytiri’s expression softened, sensing the uncertainty in his eyes. She walked up to him and placed a hand on his shoulder, “I know that you might feel confused but I believe that accepting Eywa’s sign will lead you to being a strong leader someday. Sometimes we have to make sacrifices, but ultimately the Great Mother looks after us. Our fate is already written.”
“Whatever your grandmother decides, you don’t have to go along with it, if you don’t want to, Neteyam,” Jake added with a strained voice, “Trust your heart.”
Neytiri nodded with a small sigh. She too was conflicted, torn between her trust and her love for her son. The vision during the Dream Hunt was a rare blessing, and Neytiri didn't want Neteyam to miss out on it.
“You have been destined for greatness, ‘itan,” her expression softened, “We will be with you every step of your journey.”
“Thank you,” Neteyam looked between his parents, “But I decided to accept the sign. And I want to make you proud,” he added, his voice barely above a whisper.
Jake and Neytiri exchanged a glance. Neteyam could feel the weight of his clan's expectations heavy on his shoulders, like he couldn’t refuse, no matter how much his parents expressed they would support him. Now, as he looked at their worried faces, he knew he had to put his own desires aside for the sake of his people. 
“Grandmother sent me over to get you. She has her answer,” Kiri’s voice trembled slightly as she delivered the news, interrupting their moment.
Her ears were flat against her skull, face etched with worry for the burden placed upon her brother. She could only hope that he would be happy and at peace with whatever will be decided.
︵‿︵‿︵‿︵
One man's joy is another man's sorrow. 
Becoming the future Olo’eyktan’s mate, getting accepted into his family, being his family, filling the hole left by the death of her parents. To be granted the ultimate praise and be chosen by Tsahik, be approved, be enough. After losing everything, it all seemed too good to be true to Y/N.
Her heart sunk deep in her chest, voice hitching in her throat before words of protest could even escape. How could she agree to being with Neteyam? Sure, he was handsome, skillful, he was respected and would be sweet to her. But he wasn’t Kaye, wasn’t the one she wanted. Not the one who promised to be hers. No. It was going to be Neteyam, the future Olo’eyktan. The guy who had grown up with the eyes of the whole clan on him. Who was performing all the time, concealed his true feelings. Someone whom she didn’t know well, whom she never saw that way. 
“Y/N, do you accept?” Mo’at asked, her voice louder this time.
Y/N’s thoughts raced faster at the gravity of the question. Mating with Neteyam would fulfill her duty to her people, a duty to carry on the traditions, an opportunity to belong, to be part of something bigger, greater. To finally feel useful, be able to give back to her clan. She glanced at Tsahik and could see the disapproval etched on the older woman’s features. 
Any girl would kill to be in her position. It felt like a slap to even consider rejecting Neteyam, Mo’at was convinced that her grandson was going to be everything and more. She had seen him in her visions since even before he was born. He had a strong heart, was destined to be a leader, guide his clan to a better future, make a happy one for himself too. 
The atmosphere was thick with anticipation, each breath Y/N took felt like a burden on her chest. Jake and Neytiri, who stood nearby, waited patiently, hoping for the answer they wanted to hear but also expecting the one they feared. It was hard to tell apart which was which. Y/N stole another glance at Neteyam, whom she had greeted only a few minutes ago, just before his grandmother revealed her vision of Y/N being mated with him. He looked guilty, chewing on his bottom lip, muscles tense, as he desperately seeked for a reaction from her, anything. He felt the guilt eating away at him, he wasn’t blind, Neteyam had seen they way she was around Kaye. He just couldn’t understand why they had never announced it to the clan. Maybe things wouldn’t be so difficult now… 
“I-I,” she stuttered, “I don’t know what to say, it is a great honor but…”
“But you deny?” Mo’at raised her eyebrows in disbelief, completely baffled with her answer.
“No - yes,” Y/N stammered, shaking her head, “I am only saying that there are many women in the clan who are worthy of becoming the mate of the future Olo’eyktan. Women better than me, who would know how to lead a clan.”
Mo’at pursed her lips together, clearly dissatisfied. Y/N wanted to scream, to run away, to hide from the responsibility that was thrust upon her so unexpectedly. Neteyam's eyes bore into hers, pleading silently for a chance. But she didn't know him, not really. How could she possibly agree to mate with someone her heart didn’t long for? Neytiri shifted uncomfortably, nudging Jake to do something, anything to ease the situation. He sighed, stepping forward to Y/N.
“I know it can be hard to let people take care of you, kid, but sometimes it is okay to let yourself just be,” he placed a hand over her shoulder, his features etched with sincerity, “Your parents were great people. I thought very highly of them, I truly mean it.”
“I know, Olo’eyktan, they respected you too,” Y/N nodded weakly. 
Ever since their passing, Y/N could feel Jake’s protective gaze on her. He had been looking out for her for years now, making sure that people in the clan treated her well. It was him who had asked Mo’at to take Y/N as a student because he saw the potential in her to help others. But now, it was time for him to be taking all that back, and the realization made her heart clench painfully.
“I’ve never told you this but before your mother passed away, I was there with her,” he paused for a moment, “She asked me to take care of you, to make sure you had a place in the clan. And I know of no better way to fulfill that wish than this.”
As he spoke, Y/N's felt like shrinking under the weight of his arm still resting on her shoulder. She couldn’t tell him that her heart belonged to someone else, someone she could never have because she had nothing to offer. Nothing to give, nothing to make his family think she was worthy of him.
“The sign of Eywa was clear,” Neytiri chimed in, drawing attention back to her, “Neteyam had a vision during his Dream Hunt. He saw his mate.”
“But that’s… that never happens during Dream Hunts!” Y/N seemed baffled too.
She looked at Neteyam, hoping for a further explanation, but he seemed to be lost in his own thoughts. Shame and pressure showed on his face, as if the argument made by his mother put him into an even deeper pit of despair. 
“It happens rarely,” Neytiri continued, then smiled softly, as if catching up on with her own thoughts, “Very rarely, Eywa sends these signs to exceptional Na’vi. It must be her way of saying that it is time to let somebody else help him on the rest of his journey.”
Useful. It was the precise word Y/N used, whenever she asked for Tsahik’s help during the lessons. When her eyes would go red from the amount of tears she shed when she felt unwanted. When she hid herself from the man she loved because his parents would never accept her. Y/N had always been a hard worker, eager to prove herself in the clan, but no matter how much she did, it never felt enough.
Neteyam watched her with fear and desperation. Now the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to make things work. The pressure of being the perfect son, the future leader, was a weight that he needed to share with someone strong.
Then they saw it. A single atokirina’, a sacred seed that had last appeared to Y/N on the day her parents were killed, floated around her, casting a soft glow over her features. For a moment, nobody spoke, watching the seed with adoring smiles. Y/N's expression softened too, feeling as if the Great Mother herself had blessed her. Eywa had spoken.
“It seems like Eywa tries hard to convince you, my child,” Mo’at's words were soothing, her voice softening as she spoke with adoration for her world.
"To be chosen by Eywa is a wondrous thing,” Neytiri added with a grin.
Y/N’s gaze met Neteyam's, his eyes searching for any sign of what she was thinking. Did he feel the same pressure as her? Did he want this, or was he as trapped as she was?
“Is this really how it works?” Y/N asked, her voice barely more than a whisper.
“Eywa speaks to us in many ways, my child,” Mo’at nodded.
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chapter 2 →
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freyito · 7 months
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can write a head cannons on how the Lin Kuei trio would react to their s/o getting injured from a mission they just got back from and their s/o was trying to hide it from them? (not a serious life threatening injury, more of either they had a deep cut or bruised ribs, something like that)
im in the mood for some angst since i havent gotten any requests for it yet (this is ur time, anons ;) ), i know this prompt is pretty fluff-y, but i'm gonna make it a little bit more angsty. im also gonna write this a little bit different, since i'm real real into this request and writing angst is my specialty. sorry this took so long btw!!!! i had a hard time focusing for like a week, but im back in the mindset and i hope you all enjoy this!!!
cw: gn reader, little bitty angst, mentions of injuries & scarring, bruised rib, laceration, contusions, proofread.
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ᴛʜᴇ ʟɪɴ ᴋᴜᴇɪ ᴛʀɪᴏ + ᴀɴ ɪɴᴊᴜʀᴇᴅ ꜱ/ᴏ
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-Tomas Vrbada
Tomas was just glad both of you had returned safely. The threat was neutralized, and neither you, nor him had sustained any fatal injuries. Maybe you had gained a couple new cuts that would make nice scars, with stories to match, but he had sworn that was the lot of it. He was able to get you patched up before returning, but he had still insisted on meeting a doctor, an alchemist, anything that could help further. Especially since he was worried about infection. But you had reassured him that you were fine, the mission was over and all you needed was rest to heal up properly.
That night, you writhe in bed, finding some sort of comfortable position to ignore the seething pain in your chest. It wasn't lethal, no, but you did require medical attention. However, it was something that Tomas would worry about. And with the mental hardship of that mission, you knew that was the last thing he needed. The very last thing.
Biting your lip, you let out a sharp breath, before finding the optimal laying position. Uncomfortable, yet the pain was minimum. This was the path to healing, regardless. You rest your hand on your chest, as if to control your heartbeat. Something about that pain just made your adrenaline spike, as if you had been running for your life. Your head throbs, your breath feels short, and your vision ever-so-slightly blurs. It's psychosomatic, you know it is. But you had lied to Tomas, to yourself, and your guilt is eating away at your sense.
Lightheaded, you turn your gaze to the door, meeting eyes with your beloved. Horror resonates within his eyes, like the flame of ambition had died down and left only the ashes of regret in its wake. Tomas had watched you, roll and writhe and squirm and groan. His voice trembled, something lurking behind those sweet words of his.
"You lied?"
It is not that. It is not that you lied about being unharmed. It was the fact that now, even so desperately in pain, he knew he couldn't protect you. He didn't. And perhaps it had been the fact that you didn't trust Tomas enough to tell him about your chest, as he perceived it.
You propped yourself up on your arm, exhaling a painful amount of regret. And at that, Tomas flinched, almost instinctively. Not as if you were going to hit him, no, as if you were going to fall. Before you could even get a word in, to argue that you hadn't lied, you were worried, anything. Any single word. Tomas had rushed to the bedside, looking down at you now. His emotions showed clearly, hurt, mainly. But behind that, all sorts of emotions welled up in his chest. Anger, betrayal, pain, empathy. He wants to pick you up, he knows he can't. But there's a part of him that suddenly yearns to touch you, now, right now. Begging, pleading within him. But instead, he swallows that feeling and saves it for when you make a full recovery.
Tomas calls a medic, promptly. He finds it hard to speak. He doesn't go mute, he's just overwhelmed with all sorts of negative emotions that all the words he'd say get choked up in his throat. As the medics show up and end up escorting you away with a wheelchair, Tomas can't help but stay behind. He looks at the bedside as if you aren't in better hands now, mourning almost. He knows you can take care of yourself, you're strong and skilled. But this is why he worries, he's afraid of you getting hurt, still. A nightmare, that's what it is. Knowing it's not something you're willing to speak of outright, either. Before he continued on to follow the medics, he took a couple seconds to control his breathing, and steady his emotions.
Until your rib had healed, Tomas stayed by your bedside. Day in, day out. None of the nurses could even get him to move, especially after visiting hours were over. For such a minor injury, it broke something inside you to see the man, hunched over at your bedside.
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-Bi-Han
With the end of a successful mission, Bi-Han was happier to be home. Losses had been kept at a minimum, but as always, there had been more than his fair share of blood spilled. Injuries were common, both you and him knew that. And he had always made sure that you, out of anyone- especially anyone close to him- had been unscathed. Granted, he knew, with even low-scale fights, injuries were bound to happen. He takes pride in how strong you are, knowing that you are more than fine on your own. But he also takes pride on being able to be there. To protect you when you somehow fall short.
Somehow, you had weaseled your way out of a medical exam. As crucial as it was, you knew Bi-Han had a bad habit of worrying over the smallest things. Especially when it pertained to you. The only thing you were left with was a laceration on your shoulder, which was hastily covered with loose gauze. It wasn't anything that drew attention, but moving your arm in a particular way or pressure had definitely would've caused it to bleed again.
That evening, you were out with Bi-Han, enjoying the fresh air and relishing in your victory. It was a regular occurrence, something you both did either in the dead of night or in broad daylight. It was something you two did for yourselves. Bi-Han enjoyed it, getting to spend time with you, surrounded by tranquility and near bliss. It was a nice distraction from his duties as Grandmaster. To spend time with you, hold you tenderly, whisper what he had thought of you, or maybe just enjoy your presence. It was hard for him, but he loved being vulnerable with you, it was one of the few instances of trust he had shown anybody.
So, when Bi-Han had gently caressed your shoulder, the hitch in your breath scared him. The first thought in his mind had been regret, as if he had hurt you. Until you reached for your shoulder, and covered your wound. He had not applied any pressure, but the wound had been irritating you. When you met Bi-Han's warm eyes, the heartbreak almost shot a hole through your heart. When you reached for him, to reassure him it was okay, just an odd reaction, he turned his head away. As if he had betrayed himself. Now, you could see the thoughts processing in his head, each one worse than the last. He wasn't afraid of hurting you now, he was afraid that his actions would lead to this reaction. He was afraid that you had feared him.
You reached for him once again, only now catching his attention and fishing him out of his thoughts. He looked sorrowful, the previous answer lingering on his mind. You could almost see his lips quiver, until he laid his eyes on the gauze peeking out from just under your shoulder. His regret turned into curiosity, and before he could reach in to take a closer look, your guilt took hold. To redirect his attention, you cupped his face ever-so-gently, hoping it would not only distract him, but that it would keep his thoughts at bay.
Mistake number one, really. Bi-Han's fears had been disproved, but now he knew you had been hiding something from him. He couldn't take his eyes off the bandages, yet he leaned into your touch. Simple assurance, for a simple cover-up. He reached for your shoulder again, lifting up the hem of your sleeve. He didn't need a second look, but he took one anyone. You recoiled slightly, caught in your lie. When his eyes met yours, they weren't full of anger, or hurt. Worry, mostly.
"Were you hiding this from me?"
In a way, those words stung. You didn't want to stress him out, and more-so, you didn't want to deal with the medics either. Bi-Han furrowed his brows, rolling his tongue over the bottom of his teeth. The very real threat of infection was present, with a cut that deep. Your injury wasn't fatal, he knew that. But his fear of infection reigned over that. Without a second thought, his hand strayed to your wrist, and pulled your hand away from his face gently. His gaze wasn't cold, it was rather warm. But you could tell he was annoyed that you had hid your injury from him.
With a soft and quick gaze, Bi-Han interlocked his fingers with yours, and led you out of the woods, to the medics. He's tense, he's almost horrified of infection. He's afraid that it'd be too late to catch it.
Bi-Han watches the medics the entire time, arms crossed. He only relaxes when your wound is cleaned and bacitracin is applied. And, out of precaution, he redresses your wounds every day. He'll talk to you about hiding things from him, especially wounds.
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-Kuai Liang
With another mission complete and another win under his belt, Kuai Liang had become quite relaxed. With very little injuries to you and himself, he was actually quite proud. At least, that's what he had thought. Normally, Kuai Liang is observant. He can catch any discrepancy in your behavior, and that's what made him so hard to get around. Unfortunately, the wound you had been trying to hide was especially annoying, and in an even worse area. A contusion on your thigh, something that made it increasingly hard to walk.
But, you knew Kuai Liang had no need to worry over you. As much as he loved you, and you love him, you would rather not put another weight on his shoulders. As skilled as he was, fighting had always stressed him out, especially the aftermath. And he could never forgive himself for letting you get hurt, even if you had more than the means to defend yourself. He always admired your lethality, but he was possessive, and the thought of his love getting hurt without him watching over them was a painful thought.
You stifled your pain as you got up off the shared bed, the nap you had taken doing no help to your injury. Kuai Liang stirred next to you, absently reaching for you in his semi-conscious state. His hand landed on your thigh, firmly. His thumb pushed down into the tender bruise, making you cringe. Feeling you twitch under his absent-minded touch, Kuai Liang began to regain full consciousness. As if a nervous reaction, the burning pain in your thigh spread further down your leg.
You turned to look at Kuai Liang over your shoulder, meeting his groggy gaze. Soft, and warm. In his half-awake state, he didn't take notice to the slight crease in your brows, or the way you bit your lip to ignore the pain. Not yet, anyways. He uttered a couple of things under his breath in Chinese, mainly complimenting you. He got up, taking his hand away from your thigh, and yawning. After a couple seconds of comfortable silence, Kuai Liang met your eyes once again, smiling softly.
Your body relaxed, the pain in your thigh subsiding a little. Turning to kiss him, however, broke that brief comfort. The way you angled your body as your lips caught his sent another rush of pain down your full leg, the contusion tender and near begging for some sort of pain relief. Your breath caught in your throat, causing you to pull away and hiss. Kuai Liang flinched, raising his hand and pausing. His first thought was that you had just stretched wrong, but when you had reached for your thigh subconsciously, it clicked instantly.
"You're still hurt? You didn't tell me?"
Anger flared in Kuai Liang's eyes, just for a second, before concern set in. He could've protected you, but also you had hid this from him. He didn't know exactly what to feel in the moment, conflicted and confused. But he knew you were hurt, so his very first instinct was to take care of you. Once you had shown him it was a contusion, nothing deep or at risk of infection. But it was a rather big bruise, so he worried more.
During your recovery, he keeps a close eye on you. He checks on the bruise regularly, until its no more than just the size of a dime. Only then did he allow you to walk without his help. He'll definitely have a talk with you, and in future missions he'll always be close by. He wouldn't dare let his treasure get hurt again.
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mercuriians · 2 months
Text
do you feel like a young god?
synopsis ☆ blade wishes that his path had never collided with yours.
content info — NSFW (minors stay away 😡 i'm warning you), angst angst angst, fem! reader, regular fic but with a twist on the format. violence at the very end so be aware of that.
word count — 2.1k words.
author's note — this has been in my drafts forever. normally i don't write angst but i was listening to halsey's badlands album & it instantly gave birth to this fic. the entire album is so blade coded that it hurts. anyways this is just 100% pain and smut, there is no comfort. nonetheless i hope you enjoy this drabble and its unplanned christmas theme (i apologize in advance 😓) ALSO i'm working on reqs as we speak i swear
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BLADE has never had time to entertain romantic affairs, or even indulge in spontaneous sexual encounters. such matters reeked of the kind of superficial sentimentality that he's long discarded due to its blatant, disgusting lack of appeal. since he’s remembered, all he’s ever really wanted is to taste death, to be enrobed within its earnest invitation and to finally relieve himself of his all-consuming burden. there was no room for anything else—especially something as trivial as fulfilling the human heart’s wishes.
YOU didn't plan to get involved with the agenda of the stellaron hunters, but perhaps your hopes were ultimately futile when your older sister was their very leader. really, what's funny was the fact that even though you two were related by blood, and were raised together, you only shared two traits: a sharp gaze tinted with magenta and the useful gift of perception. otherwise, you might as well have been nameless strangers. you were kind, forgiving, and preferred to heal rather than harm; kafka was the complete opposite, her manicured fingers gleefully stained with scarlet.
BLADE remembers finding himself in an unusual state of confusion when he had first met you. your appearance in itself contrasted against your team members; whereas they wore dark shades of black, purple, and red, you were clad in smooth clothes of pure silver, which didn’t make sense since they would end up dirtied and tainted either way. he remembers disapproving of your very presence because you seemed entirely unfit to fulfill your job—to kill mercilessly and to follow elio's script without an ounce of remorse or hesitation. "you don't belong here," he'd sneered, his vexation only increasing when he saw the docile smile you'd given him in response.
YOU weren't ever truly angered by the blatant acts of disrespect that blade displayed during the earliest stages of your connection. some would argue that you possessed the patience of a saint, and though you wouldn't exactly disprove such a claim, you'd say that it extended far beyond that. there was something you saw behind the scarlet hue of blade's gaze, something that lain dormant behind all the hostility. for a reason unknown, you soon grew the desire to discover it, and to maybe in turn help the man in some way. it didn't matter if a part of your soul had to be sacrificed—you would do it.
BLADE found it all too easy to decline your attempts. it was a continuous, repetitive process, where you’d seek him out and offer a few questions that seemed unassuming at first, and he’d respond by pointing out the obvious holes ruining your facade. he didn’t know why you were suddenly so eager to uncover information about him—or, to “properly acquaint yourself” as you’d innocently described it—but he didn’t care either way because it wasn’t worth trying to. at least those were the words he told himself for the first four months.
YOU managed to break down the weakest parts of blade’s walls by the fifth month. it was slow, and arduous, and yes, a bit frustrating—hearing him curse you out wasn’t really a motivating experience—but ultimately your efforts prevailed in the end. finally, if only a little bit, he opened up to you, and he began giving short but actual responses instead of a mere grunt or a simple click of the tongue. and so he started filling in small snippets about himself. how he found pleasure in the familiarity of a sword. how he despised the way your sister called him ‘bladie.’ how kuding tea was one of his preferred drinks. how he couldn’t remember the last time he dreamt in his slumber.
BLADE was rather astounded by the change in behavior you seemed to have withdrawn from him. at first he denied the reality and brushed off the occurrence as him simply taking the easier route, so that he didn’t continue to waste unnecessary effort on dodging your pesky questions. but here was the truth—he wasn’t lazy, ever. he always did things for a reason, always justified his actions with some kind of logic, no matter how immoral. something strange was happening, and he wasn’t entirely sure why, but he still tried to maintain a form of apathetic distance. blade convinced himself that things were remaining strictly professional. even as his pale hands somehow found themselves entangled within your soft hair during one stormy night, and even as his chapped lips pressed against yours.
YOU were surprised but not at all unwelcoming of the unorthodox suggestion that blade gave you one day. in a tone that betrayed no emotion, he asked—well, perhaps demanded—that you two enter a sort of arrangement that he called “being each other’s respective stress relief.” in a more straightforward, explicit manner, you two would use each other for physical pleasure whenever needed. that was where the intimacy started, and it was where it ended. with your heart beating a bit more than it should have, you agreed. blade smiled—a small, predatory kind of smile—before engulfing you in a harsh kiss, backing you into the wall as his hand squeezed around your neck.
BLADE relished the sounds that he was able to elicit from you—sweet, pretty little moans, desperate, high-pitched whines, and of course, the breathless mantra of his own name. every ounce of it made him swell with smug pride, and made his cock harden even more. your eyes would shut tightly whenever you felt particularly overwhelmed with pleasure, and of course he’d always force you to open them. after all he needed you to see just how much of a slut you were for him, just how much he’d ruin you with the marks he’d leave all over your skin and the countless orgasms he’d trigger within you. somewhere in the very back of his mind, there was a faint voice that warned him of the territory he was threatening to cross, just barely short of touching the edge. but he ignored it in favor of savoring the depraved sense of exhilaration that electrified his veins, knowing that he was the one corrupting his colleague’s sweet, innocent, naive little sister.
YOU found your heart beating impossibly faster every time your lips met his, every time he quietly snuck into your quarters and whispered things that were only for you to hear. of course it was only inevitable that you fell in love with the man himself. long forgotten was your goal to solely fix him because in a strange, almost twisted way, it was like you were healing yourself with every scorching touch of his fingers, every relentless thrust of his hips. and for better or for worse, it felt like he was starting to care for you against all odds, and you saw it through the littlest of things. how his dull scarlet eyes seemed to brighten just for a second when he saw you, how he started to stay the night after he ravished you, how his fingers traced your beautifully bruised skin with an uncharacteristic gentleness when he thought you were asleep. you loved it, and soon his embrace was the only thing you learned to crave.
BLADE seemed like he was caught in a peculiar trance ever since you two had agreed to the "stress relief" arrangement. it was unimaginable, really—or at least it should have been. not once had he felt such unbridled emotion for a woman, or for any person in general. he detested the sensation at first. hated how vulnerable it made him feel. so, whenever he felt particularly exposed, whenever you smiled at him for too long, he used your body as a distraction. he'd mark your skin as if he was nothing more than a mindless animal, would pin both your wrists above your head as he snarled, hips smacking against yours. the strategy would work for some time, but the moment he saw you fall into a peaceful slumber—exhausted from all the rigorous activity—the emotions would come rushing at him again, full force. soon there was a voice at the back of his mind, whispering of how he was falling into a trap. one that he had arrogantly, unknowingly set for himself.
YOU started to feel a shift in blade's behavior, noticing how he became more distant as the days passed. your conversations shortened and shortened until they became almost reminiscent of the ones you'd have at the beginning of your relationship. your nightly sessions dwindled in frequency, eventually reaching the point where he barely even knocked on your door at all. all of it drove you to the brink of insanity, worry consuming every ounce of your being until you couldn't handle it anymore. "what the hell?" you had hissed, pulling the man aside once silver wolf and your sister had retreated to their quarters for the night. "why won't you talk to me, blade? what did i do?" but even that didn't work. all he did was scoff and push past your figure, shaking off your grip when you reached out for him. the next day, you were so distraught that, in a fit of desperation, you asked your sister for help. but the only thing you received was a look of warped pity and an obscure comment. "once the candle burns out, the room grows dark again." kafka murmured.
BLADE couldn't handle any of it anymore, his seemingly endless endurance having reached past its limit. he hated the way you looked at him in confusion and anger, and most of all, betrayal, as if he had stabbed you in the back. he might as well have. but above that, he hated the way you reminded him of his curse's weight. in another life, he had thought of immortality as a gift—a gleaming trophy awarded only to those who had gone above and beyond to prove their superiority. how foolish he had been. immortality was a burden, its pressure so insurmountable that it felt heavier than holding up the sky itself. from the very beginning, he'd known that being immortal meant that he'd have to watch the people around him fall prey to death's embrace, but somehow that simple fact evaded his mind when he—it still pains him to admit this—developed feelings for you. he wasn't quite sure if what he felt was love in its raw form, but he was pretty damn certain that it was the closest he was going to ever get. because as selfishly and disgustingly sentimental as it was, the last thing he wanted was to see you wither with age, until you were nothing more than another corpse. and so with a shaky breath, and an unstable heart, he decided to handle the situation in the only way he knew how to.
the truth was that YOU truly were one of the most perceptive people out there, even as heartbreak dulled your senses. so you heard the muted footsteps and saw the swiftly approaching shadow. you knew who it was, even without sparing a glance. still, you remained motionless, your movements almost painfully frozen as your eyes slid shut. tears silently rolled down your face, staining your skin even before the sword pierced through your chest. crimson seeped through your silver blouse like ink on a blank canvas. you fell to the ground, exhaling unshakily, unrivaled pain blooming within every inch of your body. you felt the strength being drained from your spirit, but you mustered the will to meet blade's scarlet gaze. "guess i should have expected this, huh?" you murmur, fingers moving to feel where he'd stabbed you. silently, blade crouched down to your level, his expression unreadable. you reached for his hand, neither of you flinching when his skin became stained with your blood.
"all of this was a mistake," BLADE muttered, tone betraying not even an ounce of emotion. still, he kept his fingers intertwined with yours, and that action alone was enough. "my fate is already determined, but you sealed your own the second you approached me." the wind was cold and unforgiving around the two of you, its invisible talons recklessly combing through the man's ebony strands of hair. but blade paid it no mind, not even when a particularly harsh gust threatened to overwhelm your last words. and as time would tell, those were the very words that would haunt him in the future.
"i'd seal my fate over and over if it meant that i'd see you happy again." you whispered, and for once you failed to notice one crucial detail.
for the first and last time, blade's vision grew blurry from his tears.
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undeadcannibal · 10 months
Note
Hello i saw you were taking requests and i want to ask if you could do Alejandro and König being jealous because Graves is flirting with there s/o and she's clearly uncomfortable with it but they gets jealous anyway and decides to make sure she knows who she belongs to.
Only if you're up for it.
Have a good day :)
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Summary: How Alejandro and König would react to Graves hitting on you and becoming jealous as a result.
Genre: Imagines, request(s) Characters featured: Alejandro, König.
Warnings: suggestive situations, spanking, and mention(s) of jealousy
A/N: So, at first, I nearly made this a poly scenario but rewrote it because I was almost certain that isn’t what you were asking for lol. I hope this suffices, and I apologize for the delay on my end OTL ( Gif credit: xxx )
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"C'mon now, girl."
Graves stepped in front of you, blocking your path as well as preventing you from leaving the conversation. Staring down at you with a shit-eating grin on his face.
"Let's say after all this bullshit is said and done, you let me take you out dinner. What do you say?
While you didn't let it show on your face, the thought of going on a date with Graves was off putting to say the least. He was too cocky in all the wrong ways -- and there was something else off about him you couldn't quite pin-point yet, but that underlying suspicion was there, always prickling away at the back of your mind. Maybe it was you were just being paranoid, but still. When it came down to it, you didn't find yourself drawn to him in any sort of way.
You still had to work with the man though, so instead of being honest with him, you offered him a practiced smile. One perfected over years of awkward interactions just like this one.
"As nice as that sounds, I'm afraid I'll have to decline."
"Yeah? And why's that, sweetheart?"
Figures he was the type that didn't know when to back down...
At that point, you'd crossed your arms over your chest. Physically attempting to close yourself off from him even further. You hesitated in coming up with an answer to that question. It wasn't exactly like you could confess you were in a relationship with a Colonel.
"I'm already in a committed relationship, sorry, Graves."
Why the fuck were you apologizing to him?
Alejandro―
As you were busy trying to anticipate Graves' reaction, you hadn't noticed that Alejandro had seen the entire interaction between the two of you. Especially noting the way you tensed up when speaking to Phillip.
Even though he knew better than to storm over and cause a scene -- he felt the urge rising within him regardless. He wanted to walk over there and ask him what the fuck he was doing to you that had you so uncomfortable.
Somehow, he'd managed to hold off just long enough for the interaction between the two of you to come to an end. Whatever you'd said to the Shadow Company CEO had sent him off with his tail between his legs.
Good.
He couldn't help but curse to himself in Spanish as he watched Graves leave the rec room. Once he was gone though, he didn't waste any more time in heading over to you. Silently gesturing for the two of you to have a private conversation elsewhere.
Shortly after the two of you had some privacy, Alejandro was stepping closer to you, looking you over with concern. "Are you okay?" He asks.
You nod. "Yeah, yeah." Offering him a small smile, you shrug a single shoulder. "He asked me if I was interested in going out with him. Mentioned something about knowing where to find him if I was ever interested in going out with a "real man"." You answered him, exaggerating Graves' words by giving air quotations with your fingers.
"Pinche cabrón." Alejandro could feel his jaw tense while he grit his teeth. Looking off to the side with a murderous glare. The fucking nerve he had to say such a thing to you!
Oh, if he ever had a chance to get his hands on that gringo...
Once his anger subsides, jealously takes its place. He knows he has nothing to worry about with your relationship. It's stable and healthy enough to the point he doesn't feel worried in the slightest that you'd cheat on him. However, knowing that Graves is so interested in you to the point he'd made a move, that had him feeling so conflicted.
Part of him knew it would be better than to let it go altogether and not worry about it for a moment longer. But, despite his intelligence and trust, Alejandro was still a man. He felt things that he probably shouldn't at times, and mostly knew how to deal with it.
This time... wasn't going to be one of those. He could feel it in his bones. Knew himself better than to just expect himself to forgive and forget Graves. He figured if he couldn't settle things physically like his instincts wanted to, he'd do the next best thing.
Staking his claim on you.
Sure, he knew he couldn't outright stake his claim on you and declare you as his own -- both out of respect of you as a person with your own feelings and independence, but also due to the trouble the two of you could get it in. That wasn't going to stop him from trying another way.
Glancing around to make sure the two of you were alone, he reached out and wrapped an arm around your waist. Leading you off to a corner of the hallway you two were in.
"Alejandro, what are you--"
You couldn't even finish your sentence before he was caging you in with his larger body. Leaning down so he could capture your lips with his own in a searing kiss that lasted only moments before he was pulling away. Already beginning a steady decline down to your throat with his lips, giving fleeting pecks and nips of his teeth wherever he could reach.
When he found a particular spot he enjoyed, he'd pause and seal his lips around the skin there. Sucking and biting at it over and over until he was satisfied with the marking that'd bloomed as a result.
Regardless of the sounds you made or how hard you clung and pulled on him, Alejandro didn't stop until he felt you had enough marks on you. Dark hickeys littering your throat all the way from your clavicle to just below your jawline.
"Apologies, mi amor." Alejandro smirked. "Let's just say I needed to make sure that bastard knew you were spoken for."
König―
The moment König saw Phillip Graves walk up to you, he was thankful for the fact that he preferred to obscure his face with his facial covering. He could feel his expression twisting with confusion and anger as he watched the other man clearly approach you with romantic intent. König might have spent most of his social life crippled thanks to his social anxiety, but even he could tell the intent behind men's interactions. Or, at least men similar to Graves anyway.
Fingers tightening at his side for a brief moment, he'd stand at his full height, appearing as menacing as ever as he tried to focus on the clipboard in front of him. Though, he found it nearly impossible thanks to the current interaction between you and Graves.
König wasn't a foolish man. He knew better than to let him emotions get the better of him and have his personal insecurities convince him of anything but the truth. You were kind, faithful, and honest with him in your relationship together. He knew you wouldn't throw yourself at Graves' feet simply because he paid you special attention.
Even so, it seemed despite all of his reasoning and rationality, he found a spark of jealously blooming within him. Burning right at the center of his chest so much he felt it difficult to breathe. Still, regardless of how he felt at the moment, he didn't storm over. The Colonel knew better than to make such a scene over something so juvenile as you being flirted with. Also, it'd probably lead to the two of you having to suffer the consequences of many other things given that - despite you not being apart of his own sector - he still technically was your superior.
König tried to focus his attention back on his paper but found it hard to do so when he caught the American eyeing you like his next meal. Discharge and other consequences be damned. The large Austrian man wanted nothing more than to show the smaller man a piece of his mind. Still, he refrained from giving in and storming over. Instead, he somehow managed to hold himself together until the American left. Seemingly with his tail between his legs from the looks of things.
Not even bothering to finish the forms on his clipboard, König tucked it beneath his arm before walking over towards you.
"Can I have a word with you in my office, please?"
After the two of you were behind closed doors and away from prying eyes, König wasted no time in striding over to you. Surprisingly quickly for someone of his stature but you didn't flinch or back away. Instead, you merely smiled up at him far too sweetly than someone like him ever deserved, he thought.
"Did I do something wrong, Colonel?" You questioned in a soft voice.
"Of course not, maus. And please, use my name for now. Not my title..." Since the two of you began a serious relationship, he couldn't stand when you had to refer to him as anything other than his name. Preferring the way it rolled off your tongue far more than whatever else you could address him as.
Staring down at your smaller form, König suddenly found himself at a loss for words. Many conflicting emotions began to overwhelm him as he debated on what to do now.
"Are you alright?" He asked, concern showing within his bright eyes. "What did he... say to you?" König questioned, a little unsure of how to deal with the predicament.
"Oh," You scoffed and waved you hand in a nonchalant gesture. "He asked if I'd like to go out with him but I declined his offer." You explained.
"Ah, I see." He nodded his head in acknowledgement but truthfully, he wasn't focusing much on your words. Instead, all he could think about was how jealous he felt that the he dared to even approach you in the first place. Sure, the two of you couldn't exactly be very open in the public about your relationship together, but that didn't mean he was just going roll over either.
In fact, he couldn't help but feel a little shameful as his mind went over numerous ideas and scenarios of how things could play out. Imagining many, many ways of which he could show that fool you were already spoken for.
It wasn't often he felt as worked up as he did emotionally, but now that he was, he wanted to do something about it.
"Maybe I need to refresh your memory..." König commented, his demeanor shifting to a stricter one as he straightened his posture, standing at his full height in front of you. Hell, he even decided to lean forward a bit just to loom over your tiny form even further than usual. Taking great pleasure in noticing the way you'd shrink in on yourself a bit from his intimidating leering.
"You're mine and mine alone. Do you understand, liebling?" Reaching out, he gripped your chin between his thumb and fingers so he could tilt your head up, coaxing you to look at him in the process.
Glancing off to the side, König would release your chin and then turn to walk away from you. Heading over to his desk so he could clear the top of it of. After the majority of it was clear, he'd gesture towards it with a nudge of his head. "Over the desk, now."
As tempting as it was to talk back to him, you remained silent and instead nodded in agreement before walking over towards his desk. Bending over the top of it with your chest and stomach pressing down against the top of it. Folding your arms beneath your head, you turned to look over at him. Daring to wiggle your backside at him just to be a tease. Silently, König moved to stand behind you so he could tug down your pants and underwear. Now gazing down at your form with a hungry gleam in his eyes.
Without warning, he lashed out and swatted your right ass cheek. Repeating the action again on the same cheek before delivering a swift and stinging strike to the other shortly after. Internally delighting in the way your skin flushed beneath his hand after each smack. The soft gasps and hisses you released were music to his ears...
"Next time he tries to make a move on you, you won't be able to think of anything else but me and how sore I'm going to make your ass soon enough."
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milksnake-tea · 8 months
Note
For the event, Nanook with Augst 8 but instead reader is the one got hurt
❀ ˎˊ- prompts: They come home beaten, bloody, and bruised. ❀ ˎˊ- 1k followers event ❀ ˎˊ- character: nanook ❀ ˎˊ- warnings: implications of physical violence, mentions of bruises and blood, nanook is scary ❀ ˎˊ- a/n: im scared of nanook but also incredibly attracted to them ALSO WHAT IS IT WITH YALL AND ASKING TO GET BEAT UP /LHJ but ykw i know u asked for angst but i kinda made it fluffy imsorry. not really satisified w how this ended but i think its okay
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Honestly, whoever did this to you was an idiot.
It was one thing to antagonize the lover of the Destruction. It was another to physically hurt them.
So either your assaulter had a death wish, or a severe deficit in braincells. Although, you weren't too keen on the idea of just running to your lover - knowing them, Nanook would break all of hell loose, giving them a fate worse than death itself.
You sighed to yourself as you rubbed at your cheek, which had already begun to bruise. Thankfully, you weren't hurt too bad, so you could probably just brush it off with a few bandages and ointment. All you had to do was to hope that Nanook wasn't home today.
But of course, fate wasn't on your side.
The second you opened the door to your shared room with the Aeon, what greeted you was a sight of Nanook in their mortal form, lounging on the bed. They weren't doing anything in particular, simply staring up off into space as golden specks flickered around them like fireflies.
Their eyes flicked to you the moment you walked through the doorway. Slowly, their gaze roamed your body, zeroing in on your injuries - evidence of a fight.
Their expression barely changed, save for the slightest narrowing of their eyes. But the atmosphere immediately dampened, as though a black hole had came and sucked all of the air out of the room. The pressure dropped so quickly that your ears popped, and you winced.
Noticing your discomfort, Nanook immediately snapped out of their momentary rage, and the air went back to normal - only slightly, though.
Wordlessly, they beckoned you towards them with a finger, their right arm open for you. Cautiously, you sat down on the bed, allowing Nanook to wrap their arm around you and pull you close.
They studied your bruise carefully, running their finger across it. Swiping their thumb against it, a bit of their power seeped into you, instantly mending your wound.
"Healed by the Destruction," you couldn't help but muse, leaning your head against their broad shoulder. "How ironic. Aren't all Aeons bound their Paths?"
Nanook only hummed, a deep rumbling in their chest. "I've strayed from my Path twice before. The first was when I fell for you. The second is now. Clearly, the laws of the universe are not as rigid as you make them out to be."
"I guess," you shrugged, closing your eyes. Nanook doesn't breathe, nor do they have a heartbeat, but they are warm. Warmer than a human, more like a flame, if anything. "You're not going to ask who did it?"
"I already know," they merely replied. You couldn't help but feel as though their gaze was quite literally burning into your skin as they stared down at you. "I will take care of them, do not worry."
"Don't overdo it," you sighed, shifting into a comfortable position. "The last time you went after someone who hurt me, you destroyed an entire planet."
"I was killing two birds with one stone," they explained matter-of-factly. You laughed, squinting your eyes at them.
"Mmm, I suppose you were," you admitted. Nanook only smiled briefly before poking your nose.
"You should get go wash up," they advised. "You're filthy."
"Gee, thanks," you scoffed, but stood up regardless. You stretched for a bit, rolling out your shoulders before kissing Nanook on the cheek, and then you were off to the bathroom.
But as you closed shower door, and the Aeon heard water running, Nanook's gaze darkened. They dissipated into golden sparks, the only thing that hinted at their existence being a divot in the bed where they had once laid.
That night, as you peacefully rested, unaware of what was happening, your attacker awoke to flames - dark, dark flames devouring their home world as the Destruction watched from afar, the burning planet resting in their dark hand.
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reblogs w comments are appreciated !!
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Watching "Bad Territory" and "Paths Unknown" from a mental health perspective really dials up the angst. It's so obvious that the Batch all really need therapy and it's sad to see them all struggle. So much has changed over the past year for them and by season 3, the cracks really show more than ever. Because they're so used to the solider life, pretty much all of them, particularly Crosshair, internalizes their pain to the point of self-destruction. They don't want to talk about it and it affects all of them.
Hunter's inability to keep his squad together after Order 66 happens takes a big toll on him. He directs all his energy at Omega and losing her in season 2 really pushes him over the edge. Instead of talking about it, he begins to act more recklessly. Hunter also has to deal with seeing Crosshair get turned against him and choose that at the end of season 1. There's also a lot of guilt he probably feels about leaving Cross and seeing the Batch's numbers dwindle. Going back to Omega, she probably gave him something to hold on to. She gives him a purpose despite all the guilt and pain he feels.
Crosshair is the most sensitive of the Batch in my opinion. He internalizes a lot and holds on to it. He lets it fester and I think he does so much more Hunter. Omega is the only person he feels comfortable enough to be truly vulnerable around. He has his moments with Hunter, but it's not on the same level as Omega. But even with her, he's so haunted by what happened to him that he doesn't want to talk about it. He also deflects a lot, putting himself down or lashes out to protect himself. One of the reasons why I loved the meditation sequence is because he slowly begins to find peace of mind. That's really going to help him when he eventually opens up.
Wrecker had to become more mature and the voice of reason for Hunter. While he has his jokey moments, he's much quieter and reserved. He knows he has to be strong for Hunter, just like Omega is for Crosshair. There's something sad to see the most jolly and upbeat characters become more quiet and serious. It shows just how dark things have become.
Speaking of Omega, she's not ok. Between her past and whatever else she went through on Tantiss, there is a lot going on in that little head of hers. She feels guilty for leaving the other clones behind and she went through/saw some very bad stuff. However, she's neglecting her own mental needs for two reasons in my opinion. #1: she's trying to not worry her brothers. She knows her absence affected them. I can imagine she doesn't want to feel guilty about putting more stress on them. #2: she's trying to be strong for Crosshair. Crosshair is the most outward with his mental struggles because it manifests as psychosomatic tremors. That and he pretty much lost all hope after being imprisoned. Omega selflessly puts her own needs aside to be there for him because she knows he's hurting more than he says he is. But how long will keeping up a brave face last for our little sunshine?
I really think "Identity Crisis" will force many of these characters like Cross or Omega to finally open up. They can't hide it forever. Crosshair in particular will have to confront his trauma if he wants his hand to slowly heal. It's a long journey though.
If we compare the Batch in CW vs. TBB S3, it's crazy to think how much they've changed since then. They're all struggling deeply. However, they have each other for support and sometimes, that's the best place to start for healing.
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