#she thought i was weak bc i never hit her back but that's simply bc i'm more composed & because i have been trained to fight | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sugawara-sweetheart · 3 years

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𝔰𝔭𝔦𝔱𝔱𝔦𝔫𝔤 𝔦𝔪𝔞𝔤𝔢 (𝔪)

❥terushima yūji x fem!reader

❥summary: you’re excited to meet terushima’s family only you realise his family relationships aren’t entirely healthy...and nor is your relationship

❥warnings: tw incest/tw psuedo incest, mature, choking, spitting, ‘nii-san’ kink, implied cheating | terushima doesn’t have a dad bc idk how to write healthy father-child relationships

❥word count: 4.2k

❣︎anon: Hello:) I think I saw that you were cool with the incest kink but I have a twist for ya if thats ok?

I was wondering if you could do a smut+angst with either Terushima or Kuroo writers choice i couldn't decideand their fem!reader girlfriend realizing that she's actually the side piece. She thought he was just kinky asking her to call him nii-san in bed so she didn't really mind it. Fast forward to first time meeting the parents and Terushima/Kuroo made sure to time it so his sister wasn't home, but her holiday came early or something so she's there. And fem reader can't help but notice that she and the sister look reeeaally similar👁👄👁

when you first met terushima- that wild, loud apprentice at the hairdresser’s- you never thought you’d end up dating him. especially with his flirtatious winks and smooth pick-up lines, his casual air of seduction oozing from him with every click of the metal tongue piercing against his teeth, you didn’t think anything with him would be more than a simple fling. but he surprised you with all the tender, heartfelt words and gifts of yellow flowers and teddy bears for no reason other than just simply existing in his life. it's no wonder that you ended up falling for terushima. and the biggest surprise of all? it works out.

meeting terushima’s parents is nice. his family home is bright and colourful with yellow patterned wallpaper and they have an old ginger pet cat who sleeps at the end of the couch and his mother is warm and welcoming, immediately engulfing you in a hug and telling you how utterly gorgeous you are and that terushima best to treat you properly. to which he rolls his brown eyes, slinging an arm around your shoulder as he pulls you into his side.

“i treat her like a princess, don’t worry.” he smiles, catching your eye with a subtle wink before he presses a kiss to your temple.

“i hope you do.” his mother narrows her eyes sharply before she’s turning to you, gazing at you with a tender softness that makes your heart warm. “you two seem so happy together, i feel like you’re already my daughter.” a smile stretches across your face, heart thumping with the validation as you beam at the older woman.

“thank you, ms. terushima. yūji makes me really happy.” terushima’s warm fingers twine with yours at your words before his mother sniffles, brushing away the emotional tears that threaten to spill before she chuckles.

“i’m going to finish making dinner, i’ll call you both when it’s ready. it shouldn’t take too long and-” her eyes sparkle a little as she reaches out to grab terushima’s forearm. “there’s a surprise for you.”

terushima looks slightly puzzled but he doesn’t question his mother’s vague words before she’s humming as she strolls off back to the kitchen and then his momentary confusion disappears when he grabs your hand and tugs you towards the staircase.

“come on, princess. i want to show you my bedroom.” he clicks the metal piercing between his teeth, the silver gleaming in the light. he knows the effect it has on you- the sinful things he’d done with that tongue that has you fucked out and dumb you can only cry out his name. of course, with his high libido he likes to experiment so bringing new things into the bedroom is a regular thing with terushima but the most recent one had definitely been a surprise.

you’d be lying to say you hadn’t laughed in his face the first he brought it up. it had to be a joke. but when your laughter died and terushima was still straddling you with a confused frown drawn on his face you realised he really wasn’t joking.

“wait, what?” you wheezed, your smile suddenly faltering. “y-you really want me to call you that?” terushima sighed heavily as he tore his brown eyes away from you, pouting slightly as he gazed down on the spot on the bed beside you.

“it’s just a kink.” he had mumbled sheepishly. “it’s not like it means anything- just like role play. it’s just an innocent fantasy- you know, like in porn.”

it felt wrong to say it at first. your voice was hesitant and wavered but the faster terushima fucked you, his long cock hitting all the right spots and making your mind cloudy with pleasure, it was enough for you to scream it with your nails clawing marks down his back.

“yūji,” you giggle when he pulls you into his bedroom, immediately kicking the door shut behind him as his lips attach to your throat, pressing open-mouthed kisses to the delicate skin as you squirm. “your mum’s downstairs- we can’t do it here!” a breathless pant escapes you when you prise yourself out of his arms to gaze at his bedroom. but...something feels off. it’s bare. sure, terushima had moved out of his family home when he got a job but most people still kept personal effects there, especially because you knew he went home often. but the walls are just a plain cream, the shelves sparse except for a few books, some snow globes, old teddies. none of his band posters or figurines are anywhere, not even a volleyball. it feels wrong almost, but all the confused thoughts leave your mind the minute terushima is pressing himself against you, mouthing at the sensitive skin of your neck and groping your clothed tits.

“of course we can, baby.” he murmurs into your skin, pausing to lick a thick stripe along your neck. the cold metal of his piercing tracing along your skin makes you shudder, a sigh escaping you as he squeezes your tits. “you’d do anything to make nii-chan happy, wouldn’t you?”

the simple title has too much of a sinful effect on you- your panties start to dampen immediately, your knees feeling weak as heat shoots to your core. you mewl as you press yourself against him, the thrill of arousal rushing through you at the feeling of his hard, stiff cock pressing into your back.

“but nii-chan, right here?” the name makes terushima groan, his hips bucking into your ass as he ruts against you, hands squeezing your tits harder to elicit an involuntary gasp from you.

“don’t question your nii-chan, baby. be good for me. nii-chan knows best.” he growls, catching your ear lobe between his teeth. he gives it a quick suck, drawing a breathy sigh, before he pushes you onto the bed, a smirk stretching across his lips as he straddles you.

“we’ve got to be quick,” he pants, grinding against you desperately. his hard clothed cock rubs against your panties, the friction only making you wetter as you reach for his belt buckle. “so needy.” terushima teases, slapping your hands away as you whine.

“nii-chan, i want your cock!” you cry and he sneers as he slowly unbuckles his belt with a click, making you sigh as you roll your eyes. “i thought you said we have to be quick?” you gasp when he slaps the inside of your thigh harshly, the skin stinging as he pushes your skirt up to your hips.

“so desperate- you’re such a little cockslut for your nii-chan, aren’t you?” he taunts, brown lustful eyes flickering down to your soaked panties. you grip your bottom lip between your teeth, body twitching at the sensitivity of terushima tracing a cold finger along the wet patch. “you’re soaking and i haven’t even done anything yet. do you love nii-chan’s cock that much that you’re already soaking just thinking about being stuffed with it?”

your cheeks burn with the humiliation and it feels so dirty, so wrong to be acting this out in his family home with his mother downstairs preparing a lovely meal for you all, but the thrill of depravation just makes you wetter.

“please, nii-chan! give me your cock- want to cum all over it!” you beg and terushima grins as he tugs down his pants, his hard, thick cock springing up against his clothed t-shirt. he’s fully hard already, the question of how long he’s been like this racing through your mind but the thought disappears the moment terushima hooks a finger through your soaked panties, pushing them aside as he nudges his leaking, veiny cock towards your entrance.

“nii-chan, aren’t you going to eat me out? or finger me at least?” he tilts his head in faux sympathy at your question before he scoffs.

“why would i do that when you’re already this wet? you’re dripping for your nii-chan, dirty. little. slut.” he plunges his cock into you at the last, humiliating word, lips smashing against yours to silence the loud moan that almost rips from you. it burns, even with all your slick trickling out of your sopping hole and dampening your panties you’re writhing as he kisses you hungrily, the cold metal of his piercing making you shudder as he drags it along your tongue.

“so tight,” terushima smirks as he pulls away from the messy kiss, your saliva smeared across his lips. “your pretty pussy just feels so good, baby.” he groans as he starts to rock his hips, the burning pain fading into pleasure as his thick, veiny cock rubs against your sensitive walls, every vein and ridge pressing against all the right places and his cockhead so close to your cervix.

“nii-chan, your cock is so big!” you moan, gripping the bedsheets as terushima thrusts into you. he’s moaning wantonly, not caring at all about his mother just downstairs, with his hands groping your clothed chest.

“you love nii-chan’s cock, little slut. want to be fucked dumb on my dick, don’t you?” you nod, whining desperately as you raise your hips to meet his thrusts with euphoria swimming through your veins. it’s so wrong, so dangerous. you’ve just met his mother less than ten minutes ago and now he’s fucking you, calling himself nii-chan in his childhood bedroom. “who’s fucking you this good, baby?”

“you, nii-chan!” you cry, head swirling with the pleasure as terushima rewards you with faster thrusts. “you fuck me so good!”

“such a good girl for me. you’re dripping all over my cock. let nii-chan give you a treat.” you’re panting, the pressure in the pit of your stomach building as you let him grip your jaw roughly, prising your mouth open with forceful fingers pressing into your cheeks. “open wide for nii-chan.” so obedient. your mouth drops open, tongue sliding out as terushima puckers his lips. he spits directly onto you- only it doesn’t hit your tongue, instead the cold, wet globule slaps against your cheek as you cringe, skin burning with the humiliation. he snickers, hips grinding into you as he smears his saliva roughly into your skin. “so messy. you’re such a dirty slut for me- say it.”

“i’m a dirty slut for nii-chan.” your voice wavers as you repeat his words, but the sheer humiliation only pushes you closer to the edge, a heavy moan escaping you and terushima both as your walls clamp down hard on him.

“fuck-” he hisses, hips jerking as his thrusts become sloppier, the two of you edging towards your climax. “are you going to cum for me? going to be a good slut and cream all over nii-chan’s cock?” you whimper at his words, squeezing his hard, throbbing cock tighter as your moans grow heavier.

“nii-chan!” your cry gets cut off as his fingers lock around your throat, squeezing tight at the sides as you gasp for air, pussy clenching tight around him as your walls convulse. you cum hard, wetness gushing out of you and the title rolling off your lips in a symphony of whimpering moans as terushima’s hips stutter. he groans as he ruts into you, eyes rolling to the back of his head as his hot cum spills into your warm cunt, dribbling out of your sopping hole as he slowly pulls out.

“that was fun.” he grins, pulling your panties back into place as you gasp. you can feel his cum trickle out of you, ruining your soaked panties even further but terushima just looks so pleased.

“yūji,” you whine, burying your face in your hands. “i can’t believe we fucked and now we have to go downstairs and eat dinner with your mother!” he laughs at your words, tucking his softening cock back into his jeans before he pecks your cheek playfully.

“it’ll be hot, you sat there with all my cum inside you.” he pauses, edging towards your jaw. “if you keep it all in like a good girl, nii-chan will treat you when we get home.” a suggestive smile tugs at your lips, your filled pussy clenching at his words before he’s taking your hand, pulling you out of the room to go downstairs.

“yūji!” his mother cries when you both reach the bottom of the stairs. “look who’s back!” you frown in confusion as she points towards the living room, terushima looking puzzled too. then his face lights up immediately and he drops your hand to rush into the living room, leaving you stunned as you follow in behind him.

he’s engulfed someone in a hug, swinging them around with his face buried in their neck as his mother laughs beside you, clapping a hand to her chest.

“yūji’s always been so close to yura,” she smiles fondly. you open your mouth to question but all words die in your throat as terushima releases the girl and you see her clearly stood in front of you.

no. ice runs through your veins and your heart almost stops.

it’s like looking in the mirror.

she’s the exact same height as you, her build similar with her hair dyed the exact same shade of yours. but surely that’s just a coincidence...but why does a heavy, dull feeling fester inside, making you almost want to be sick? but the similar makeup style and the clothes you’re both wearing...the clothes terushima had suggested would look pretty on you until you finally started to like it, it’s all too much.

“hi!” she beams. “i’m yura! you must be our yūji’s girlfriend, it’s so lovely to meet you!” it feels cold to let her arms envelope you, your throat tightening as your skin crawls. she even smells like you, the soft scent of her perfume so familiar...and terushima had been the one to buy it for you.

“you’re his sister?” a bright laugh rings from her at your words and she playfully shoves terushima, a grin stretching across his face.

“nii-chan, haven’t you told her about me? you’re the worst!” as she rolls her eyes playfully, terushima snickers and snakes an arm around her shoulders.

“you love me really, yura.” he beams, pulling her into his side as she laughs and giggles.

it’s unsettling. a cold shiver runs down your spine and something deep in your chest twinges as you study terushima. the way he looks at her- something’s not quite right. it’s almost the way he looks at you when you’re getting ready and he comes to stand behind you in the mirror, making sure to exaggerate checking you out so he can make you laugh as your cheeks heat up...but are his eyes softer? why do you feel like the outsider? no. you’re overthinking this, you have to be. it’s disgusting otherwise. and surely the fact he makes you call him nii-chan- no, that’s just a kink. it doesn’t mean anything- he even said so himself.

“yura, take your bags up to your bedroom before dinner.” ms. terushima says, breaking the awkward silence as yura nods.

“i’ll help.” you blurt out before you can stop, forcing a smile as yura’s face illuminates as she hands you a suitcase.

“you’re such an angel, y/n!” she grins. “yūji-nii, you’re so lucky!” as she leads you out of the living room, you’re stopped in the doorway when ms. terushima places a gentle hand on your arm, suddenly laughing as her eyes flick between you and her daughter.

“oh my, i just realised- you two look so alike! which one’s my daughter?!” it’s a light-hearted joke but it just makes your thudding heart sink further, terushima and yura’s laughter ringing in your ears along with their mother’s.

“what a coincidence, i never noticed.” terushima remarks. you glance back at him, surprised to see the tender smile lingering on his face and warmth fills you- it’s just an honest mistake, a coincidence. there’s nothing weird, even with the whole dirty kink he has...but the warmth fades and ugly, green envy floods the moment you realise his sparkling brown eyes aren’t looking at you. they’re looking at his sister.

no. it’s wrong to get jealous of his adoration for his younger sister, you tell yourself as you follow yura up the stairs, dragging along one of her suitcase as she chatters on at you about her travels. she’s his sister and you’re his girlfriend, there’s a difference between the love he has for you and it’s natural he’s so excited to see her, she’s been travelling away for such a long time-

“why are you going into that room?” you ask, stunned when yura opens the door to terushima’s room- the same room he was fucking you in just earlier. she frowns at you, confusion etched on her face as she gestures to the bare bedroom, almost laughing awkwardly.

“because it’s my bedroom- why else?” she giggles as she wheels in the suitcase but you’re rooted to the spot with horror. her bedroom? you want to be sick...terushima had you both fuck in his sister’s bedroom, had you calling him nii-chan when he fucked you in his own sister’s bed? your throat grows dry and tight but the worst thing is that the anger seeping into you isn’t just out of pure disgust but out of envy too- why is he so obsessed with his own sister? what was so good about her compared to you?

“y/n?” yura looks hesitant when she shuts her bedroom door behind her, smiling nervously as you push away your intrusive thoughts despite the wrenching feeling in your gut. “are you okay?” you’re being silly. this is stupid thoughts- terushima isn’t obsessed with his younger sister, that’s a joke. he isn’t a nasty pervert, he’s just a loving older brother and a loving boyfriend to you.

“i’m fine.” she smiles cheerfully again, resuming her chatter as she leads you back down the stairs towards the dining room. yeah, she’s normal, you laugh to yourself, and so is terushima. there had to be a logical reason why he took you to yura’s room instead of his own- his must’ve been too messy or maybe he had embarrassing things in there from his teenage years.

“i’m so happy you’re both here,” ms. terushima smiles when you and yura seat yourselves at the dining table- you’re sat beside terushima with yura and their mother opposite, and you have to swallow the bitter taste in your mouth to force a smile at terushima when he looks at you. but it’s only a momentary glance before he’s looking straight at his sister and your hopeful heart sinks again. just earlier he was so desperate to fuck you and fill you up with his cum and now he couldn’t even spare you a glance because he’s too busy with his sister?

“you’re so lucky you got to travel, like look at you looking all hot with that tan.” you almost choke on your food at the words that so brazenly leave his mouth, eyes widening with shock. why is nobody surprised?! ms. terushima doesn’t seem to bat an eyelid, instead focusing on her dinner whilst yura flushes deep pink, grinning as she looks down at her plate shyly.

“yūji-nii, stop!” but she doesn’t look like she wants him to and the food in your mouth tastes like cardboard as you chew it over and over, throat too tight to swallow as you stare at terushima and his sister grinning at each like nobody else is in the room. is it a joke perhaps? but the gleam in his eyes as he softly gazes at her face, when they rake down her body- why doesn’t he look at you like that? it stings, you can’t deny it that you’re feeling your self-esteem and your heart sink because you’re just a fragment of what she is to terushima.

but you can’t dwell on it anymore and you force a smile and laugh as ms. terushima engages in conversation over you and terushima- how did you meet? where was your first date? how bad of a boyfriend is terushima and how has he managed to keep you for so long? but it grows harder and harder to keep up with the bright smiles and jokes when terushima seems to grow more and more distracted, and it aches within you to tear your eyes away from his mother, trying not to let them sting with tears when you look at your boyfriend. only he isn’t looking at anyone else except his sister.

it’s worse when you feel a foot bump against your leg and immediately your eyes meet yura’s, a sheepish smile spreading across her lips.

“sorry- i didn’t mean to kick you.” she says. you can’t even muster a smile back, not when terushima squirms beside you, a badly-concealed smirk tugging at his lips and you’re left feeling empty. worthless. how embarrassing- you’re dating a pervert with a creepy obsession with his younger sister and all you can think about is how close you are to being her...but just not simply not good enough.

by the end of dinner when ms. terushima insists on brewing coffee, you’ve fallen into silence. everything feels wrong. your skin crawls and the knowledge of terushima, the sweet, loving boyfriend who encouraged you to wear those new clothes and experiment with your makeup, who bought you sweet gifts of perfume and hair dye, and just showed you so much love and stability, even shedding that fuckboy label was only doing it all because he’s a disgusting, incestuous creep who tried to morph you into the next best thing after his sister- it makes you feel dirty. so dirty. yet you’re still aching, every tendon of your heart pulling with an enormous weight that when terushima leaves you and his mother alone in the living room to go ‘help yura with the dishes’ you can’t stop the tears that swell in your eyes.

“oh dear, what’s wrong?” ms. terushima coos, reaching out to clasp your trembling hands in hers. you can barely choke out words- how do you tell her that you’ve just had your heartbroken because you realise her son isn’t in love with you at all, he just makes you call him nii-chan and uses you to live out his fantasies of fucking his sister.

“n-not feeling well.” disgusted. heartbroken.

“aw, you should get yūji to take you home. he’ll look after you-” a warm smile spreads across her face. “he really cares about you- you know you’re the first girl he’s ever brought home? i’m so happy about how much you love each other.”

her words make you cry harder as you walk towards the kitchen, your sobs and the pounding in your ears drowning out the giggles. your chest burns with the agonising knowledge that terushima really doesn’t love you at all and even though you’re repulsed by him and his sister you still wish that everything between you both wasn’t a dirty lie, a fucking fantasy.

“yūji-”

what the fuck?

you freeze in the doorway of the kitchen, the tears not flowing any longer because you feel so empty and so pained inside. it’s too late. terushima had sprung away from his sister but you’d seen enough. swollen cherry lips. flushed cheeks. red marks on her neck. the soap suds on his wrists, even though she’s the one washing the dishes.

“y/n?” terushima looks shocked as he steps forward to approach you but stops quickly, thinking somewhat better of his actions. “what’s wrong?”

everything. everything’s wrong. him. his sister. his lies.

“i want to go home.” you sniffle. each heartbeat hurts. why aren’t you good enough? why doesn’t he just love you for you? does he imagine you’re her when he fucks you, imagining it’s her calling him ‘nii-chan’ instead of you, wishing it’s her pussy he’s fucking instead of yours? when he fucked you in her bed and filled you up with his cum, made you spend the entire evening stuffed and defiled with his seed, is it because he’s imagining her instead? does he only feel attracted to you, love you because you’re the closest thing he could get to her- the closest, normal way of feeding his depraved, degenerate obsession? and now that she’s back…

“ah, y/n.” terushima groans. you’re a bother to him now. within just a single evening you’ve been reduced to nothing. “do you really want to go now?” you don’t miss the glance towards his sister. why her? it’s wrong, it’s fucked up, it’s not normal- why couldn’t he just love you when it’s right?! “i want to stay here so you can go. i’ll see you tomorrow.”

you don’t have anything else to say. you turn away, biting your lip hard enough you’re sure you’ll be drawing blood to stifle the sobs that threaten to escape. you feel sick to your stomach, knowing that terushima can satisfy his disgusting, depraved, degenerate cravings tonight- the real thing he’s been lusting for all the time he’s spent with you. and yet despite the nausea and the disgust, you’re still wondering why you can’t be her, why you can’t be better than his sister for him to love you for you.

#tw.incest #yandere haikyuu #yandere!terushima #darkconfectionery #yandere terushima #yandere terushima imagines #yandere terushima x reader #yandere haikyuu x reader #yandere haikyuu imagines #yandere hq #dark haikyuu #terushima #terushima imagines #terushima fic #terushima x reader #haikyuu #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu fic #haikyuu x reader

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patchofsunlight · 4 years

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Warmth | Zuko x Fem!Reader

SUMMARY: Avatar!Reader AU | Zuko has made many mistakes and holds uncountable regrets, but maybe Y/N can still love him back. Spoiler: she does.

REQUEST (by anon): “Could you do a zuko with maybe a f! avatar? Him falling in love with her like how they joked in ember island play. And him being tormented when she 'dies' in cross roads and them having some tender moment of confessing either in the western temple or ember island? maybe the play has the kiss and he confesses idk”

WORD COUNT: 5.3k

WARNINGS: Y/N is the Avatar, so Aang doesn’t exist. kissing, there might be swear words but I don’t really remember, bad editing. lots of mutual pining and some angst. I don’t know if I did this request justice but I really tried?

OBSERVATIONS: there’s a bit of Sokka x Reader bc I’m a weak woman but in the end he’s the main Zuko and Y/N shipper. not having Aang seriously hurt me. I wrote most of the Zuko sad rant in the beginning listening to Words Fail by Ben Platt and I think it would be interesting if you guys listened to that while reading? idk

I hope you all like it!!! feedback is always appreciated, so keep that in mind and thank you very much for reading!!

There was a hole inside his chest that Zuko simply couldn’t get rid of. It hurt him to his core, bringing pained sobs to the edge of his throat and slowly dismantling his soul.

He always thought getting rid of Y/N would quench his anger, rebuild his honor and complete his destiny. Now, his father accepted him again, Mai was his girlfriend, and Azula treated him like a true brother, in her own deranged ways. The Fire Nation considered him a hero, the man who killed the Avatar.

Then why did it trouble him so much? Why did he wake up every night in a cold sweat, with tears stinging his eyes? Why did he have the same nightmare over and over where he was the one responsible for her death, hitting her with lightning and watching as the light inside her disappeared, leaving behind only her idle body and Katara’s desperate cries? Why couldn’t he be satisfied? He had fulfilled his fate. He had done what he was meant to do, sided with his people, and fought against his greatest enemy. Why wasn’t he happy? Why couldn’t he ever be happy?

Back in Ba Sing Se, he saw her at the Jasmine Dragon more than once. He couldn’t believe his eyes when she first entered the teashop, and he was pretty sure she had recognized him, but Y/N managed to send a polite smile in his direction and sit down, greeting “Mushi” with joy. When Zuko served her tea, she asked him what his name was as if she didn’t know. She didn’t confront nor attack him — she simply let him live his new life and went on living hers. It felt like she had washed off his sins, erased the bloodstains he carried in his soul and hands. Y/N freed him of his past and he had thrown it all away.

It was the right thing to do, he had told himself day after day after day. Except it wasn’t, and now Iroh refused to talk to him and the Avatar was probably dead and, in the case she wasn’t, she would never forgive him. She wouldn’t let him be free of himself again and he would never get redemption for his mistakes.

He wished he could go back in time and fight alongside Y/N in that crystal cave, wished he could live up to the trust Katara offered him before they were saved, wished he could have stopped Azula from throwing that lightning bolt. He wished he could do things in the right way, yet he couldn’t. Zuko tried so hard to regain his so-called honor and to bring his father pride but his only real achievement was engulfing himself in guilt and regret, being aware that powerful and forgiving Y/N could be dead because of his lack of dignity and character — this couldn’t be honor. Violence, betrayal, death, and hurt couldn’t be honor, and he wasn’t sure he wanted his father’s pride if it meant feeling like this, like he was no good, like he was not worthy of love or praise or admiration.

Zuko had spent a great part of his life hating himself, but nothing compared to the hate he felt every night after waking up from another crushing nightmare. How dared he make this about himself and his feelings of guilt when the Avatar could be dead? How dared he worry about the Fire Lord’s pride when the world’s last hope was gone? How dared he indulge in self-pity after all he had done? He didn’t deserve pity, didn’t deserve help, he only deserved to wallow in his own pain and die. But that wouldn’t fix anything, neither would it bring Y/N back — he had to act, and he had to do it fast.

Going after Team Avatar was not difficult. He thought he would feel complicated like he had when first betraying Y/N’s trust, thought it would hurt like coming back to the Fire Nation did. Thankfully, leaving only caused a new type of satisfaction to bloom inside his chest, giving him the sensation he was finally walking through the right path. Hope seemed to pour out of every pore in his body and he could somehow think of better, future days when he would have done enough to make up for his mistakes, days when he didn’t feel the urge to scream every time he looked at a mirror. Maybe then he wouldn’t have to despise himself like he currently did, maybe things would be okay and he would be truly happy, if that was even something he had the capability to do.

But then they didn’t want him. He left everything behind, he charged every inch of his hope with the idea of joining the Avatar, and they didn’t want him. Why would they? Why would they, after everything he had done? How could he have even considered they would accept him, that she would trust him again? Of course they didn’t want him. No one did and no one ever would and that was entirely his fault — it was his fault that he was a bad person, took the wrong decisions, and caused pain and destruction. It was his fault he never did the right thing and he should’ve known he would be rejected again, for being rejected was just what he deserved.

But it still hurt. Oh, Spirits, it hurt. She couldn’t even look at him, even after he helped them defeat Combustion Man and was finally accepted in the group. Sadly, it made Zuko realize that, no matter where he stood, he would never be a part of their team, and Y/N would never trust him entirely. For some reason, that was more upsetting than their rejection. He wanted to impress her, wanted her to like him, and she never would.

“Y/N? Can I—can I come in?”

The Avatar looked up from the map she was currently analysing on her bed, studying his figure carefully before nodding with hesitance, “yes. Do you need something?”

He sighed deeply and walked towards her, feeling his heart crack when she brought her legs closer to her body and away from him the moment he sat on the edge of the bed, “I—I just wanted to talk to you about, well, you know, everything.”

Her expression hardened and she averted her eyes back to the map, “we have nothing to talk about, Zuko. You can go back to your room.”

The Fire Nation Prince swallowed nervously, “Y/N, please. I’m so, so sorry. I have made so many mistakes, I—”

“Zuko,” her voice was firm and emotionless, but that quickly changed when she met his gaze, “I thought things could be different. I thought things could be different back in the North Pole, when we first talked to each other and you told me about Azula. I thought things could be different when you saved me as the Blue Spirit. And I was so convinced things would be different when we met again in Ba Sing Se that I—” she scoffed at her own words, “I had a crush on you, can you believe that? That’s why I visited the teashop so regularly, I just wanted to see you. Stupid, of course. I should’ve known.”

Zuko was sure she could hear his anxious heart beating from the other side of the bed. They were less than a foot away, and yet it felt like miles. He didn’t want her to think about him like that, he didn’t want her to be disappointed in him. Damn, she used to have a crush on him, she liked him, and he screwed everything up like usual. “I’m so sorry, Y/N. I’m—I’m here now, I’m on your side.”

“Yeah, but I thought you were on my side back then too. Anyway, it doesn’t matter anymore. You need to teach me firebending and that’s the only reason you’re allowed here. Talking is unnecessary.”

“Please, I—”

“You should leave, Prince Zuko,” he flinched at the title escaping her lips, hating how it sounded bitter coming from her, “I have really important matters to deal with. We’ll start my firebending training tomorrow.”

“Y/N—”

“Leave, Zuko.”

With a heaviness inside his stomach, he left the room, missing if by a second the frustrated tear that ran down Y/N’s cheek. She wanted to trust him, but how could she? How could she let him in after his betrayal? She had always been forgiving, but she refused to be naive — seeing Zuko side with Azula in the crystal caves hurt her deeply and shoved her little crush on him down her throat. She couldn’t go through that again, it would be simply idiotic to. Y/N had to stand her ground. She wouldn’t be hurt by him again.

-----

“Hey, jerks. Mind if I watch you two jerks do your jerkbending?”

“Get out of—” Zuko was interrupted by the Avatar’s laughter. Sokka smiled softly at her, cheeks blushing. For some reason, that only managed to piss Zuko off even more, “get out of here!”

“Okay, take it easy. I was just kidding around,” the Water Tribe boy winked at Y/N, “see you later?”

“Sure, we still need to see that part of the temple we found yesterday. Exploration partners!”

“Exploration partners!” he agreed with a chuckle and turned away from them. “Bye, Y/N. Jerkbending… Still got it.”

Zuko glanced at her with irritation while she watched Sokka leave. He felt already incredibly frustrated for not being able to produce his fire and not knowing why, he definitely did not need to watch as Sokka and Y/N flirted.

They would make a cute couple, though, and she smiled so brightly at him it was physically painful to watch. He wanted her to smile like that at him, look like that at him. But she wouldn’t — she was over her crush and had no reason to ever feel anything towards him again, not after what he had done. He didn’t deserve her love anyway, so maybe it was for the best.

“So? Any progress, Sifu Hotman?”

“I told you not to call me that,” he snarled angrily and she sighed.

“Sorry, Sifu Hotman.”

“This was a mistake,” he sat down roughly, ignoring the ache on his legs due to the sudden movement, “maybe teaching you firebending is not my destiny.”

She looked at him with furrowed eyebrows, not understanding, “what do you mean?”

“How can I teach you anything when I’ve lost my fire, Y/N?” he chuckled sadly, letting one of his hands go through his hair in distress. “I wanted to be on the good side of the war and I can’t even make myself useful.”

“You haven’t lost your fire, Zuko,” her voice was careful, “I think you’re just going through some internal conflict and that’s reflecting on your bending, but if you were meant to teach me firebending, you will. Your destiny is still your destiny regardless, Sifu Hotman.”

“It’s easy for you to say, you’re the Avatar! I’m not even sure who I am anymore, but you have always known what your destiny was.”

“Yeah, and I was scared of it,” she smiled softly, “I ran away and disappeared for a hundred years. People died because of my absence. I have made mistakes, and I have failed many, many times. Sadly, that doesn’t make me less of an Avatar. Zuko, if you must be my teacher, it’s gonna work. We’ll figure things out and you will get your fire back. Okay?”

He stared inside her eyes. There was still some sort of mistrust in them — she was willing to help him because she needed him, but still suspicious. She wasn’t really sure he was on their side, but this was a start. He was going to fix everything and he would make her proud. He would make Y/N happy to call him a friend. Or something more.

Maybe he had a crush on her, too.

-----

Toph’s idea to look for the original source of firebending had greatly backfired (no pun intended, even though Y/N could clearly hear Sokka’s laughter in her head at the joke). They traveled to the Sun Warriors’ ancient city and found an impressive temple adorned with statues. Things were going surprisingly well until they weren’t, and now they were stuck in a disgusting glue because Zuko touched the pretty gemstone. Hours had passed and Y/N was increasingly more annoyed at their situation.

“You had to pick up the glowing egg, didn’t you?”

“At least I made something happen! If it were up to you, we’d never have made it past the courtyard.”

“Maybe, but we wouldn’t be stuck here either, so did you really win?”

Zuko rolled his eyes, “this is stupid. How are we getting out of here?”

“Help!” the girl screamed as loudly as she could, being met with only silence.

“Who are you yelling to? Nobody’s lived here for centuries,” the Fire Prince argued and it was Y/N’s turn to roll her eyes.

“Well, what do you think we should do, genius?”

“Think about our place in the universe?”

Despite her current irritation, Y/N couldn’t help but smile at his words. He instinctively smiled back and she felt warmth spread through her chest.

She was starting to think she wasn’t as over her crush on him as she thought.

They were rescued by the Sun Warriors and judged by the last dragons, and Y/N was sure she hadn’t felt this alive in a while. After burning Katara (it was so long ago it seemed like a different life), she had thought of fire as something destructive, harmful, but she could now see it with new eyes. Fire could be love, life, and power.

The Avatar glanced at Zuko. Maybe she could try and see him as that, too.

-----

“You did well today,” Zuko complimented warily, avoiding her gaze, “if we keep up the training, you might become a better firebender than me.”

“Why, thank you, Hotman,” she smiled brightly and Zuko was sure he could pass out right there, “I just have a great teacher.”

“Y/N!”

The Avatar felt Sokka before she saw him, laughing at the way he hugged her from behind joyfully, leaning his chin on her shoulder. “Hey, honey. What’s up?”

“Doing fine,” he mumbled, brushing her hair off his face delicately, “wanna grab something to eat?”

“I think I’m gonna train some more and clean myself later. I’ll meet you after?”

“Sure! I’ll be back inside. See you, Y/N, Zuko.”

They both watched as the Water Tribe boy entered the temple again. There was a weird burning sensation running through Zuko’s blood when he asked, voice slightly raspy and overly quiet, “so, you and Sokka, huh? You make a nice couple.”

She turned her head to him so quickly it almost gave her whiplash, “what? No! I mean—” she blushed at the question, flustered by the fact he would even consider something like that. The Fire Prince waited silently, irritation surfacing at her stammering. He wasn’t sure why that angered him so much, but he decided to be still and listen, “we are just friends,” she concluded, “he means a lot to me, but so do Katara and Toph, you know? We are—we are just friends. He even likes that Kyoshi Warrior, Suki! So, yeah, we are definitely not a couple.”

“I see,” Zuko felt curiously static with that piece of information, “and you don’t have feelings for him?”

“No, of course not. I mean, I had a thing for him when we first met, but now it’s gone. He’s my best friend and I love him, just not like that.”

“Okay. Good.”

“Good?” Y/N turned her head to the side in confusion and he paled considerably, finally noticing the meaning of his own words. “Why is that good?”

“Oh? I—it’s good that you love him! Yeah, having friends is amazing, right? Yeah.”

She smiled amusingly, “it truly is.”

“Yeah.”

The Avatar chuckled lightly, “come on, Sifu Hotman. Let’s do that leg movement again, I think I’m not doing it right.”

Days passed and a lot of things happened. Zuko knew Y/N wouldn’t be happy with Sokka’s suicide mission, but he couldn’t let him do it alone, so he accompanied him to the Boiling Rock. Again, she wasn’t happy when he followed Katara for revenge for her mother’s death, but then at least someone had Katara’s back and was ready to protect her. He desperately wanted to earn Y/N’s trust and friendship, but that was rather difficult when he insisted on doing the stuff she didn’t want him to do.

They continued their training on Ember Island and the whole Team seemed to thoroughly enjoy the place. Y/N was giving her all to learn firebending and was succeeding splendidly. To be honest, Zuko loved to see her get the moves right — every single time she made it, she would look at him with bright eyes and grin. It was the most beautiful sight Zuko had ever seen and he would do anything to have it permanently engraved in his mind.

They stayed up late during one particular night. They were both exhausted after hours of training and ended up sat beside each other on the ground on the back of the Fire Nation Royal Family’s beach house. The air between them was filled with silence and heavy breathing from their previous effort.

“Hey, Zuko?” after a few moments, Y/N called him gently, voice tired and raspy giving him chills. She laid down and stared at the dark sky. “Look at the stars with me.”

He blinked, “really? I mean, shouldn’t we go inside?”

“Please?” her eyes met his and his heart skipped a beat. “Just for a bit.”

“Okay,” Zuko whispered, lying down next to her. They looked at the sky quietly for a bit.

He liked to be around her. It could be the Avatar thing, but Y/N had a calming aura around her that was just unmissable. Being next to her like this gave him the feeling things would be alright, the feeling he was not worthless. It was a lie, of course. There was no way to know how their plans would go, and he was pretty much worthless.

But being beside her was enough to trick his mind. Maybe the little crush he harbored towards her had become something more — Spirits, he liked her so much. Not that it mattered, considering there was no way she would ever love him back, not after everything he had done.

“When I was younger, I believed we became stars when we died.”

He turned his head to look at her, “really?”

She turned to look back and his breath hitched at their close proximity. She chuckled, “yeah. I didn’t even know I was the Avatar back then, I was so young. They told me when I was sixteen, and I ran away shortly after,” there was bitterness to her words, “like a coward.”

“You are not a coward, Y/N. You had no way of knowing how things would go.”

“You really think so?”

“I do. Besides, if you hadn’t run away, you wouldn’t have been stuck on ice for a hundred years, and I would never have met you, which would be awful,” he widened his eyes, completing quickly, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. I wouldn’t have met them either. Of course.”

Her smile was so pretty he forgot how to breathe, “you’re right, Zuko. I don’t think I would have liked to live a life where I never met you,” she smirked before going on with teasing eyes, “and Sokka, Katara, and Toph, too. Of course.”

“Of course,” he agreed with a blush on his face. They stared at each other carefully and Zuko was pretty sure his heart was performing a professional routine of somersaults inside his body. He definitely was past just a simple crush.

Y/N smiled that dazzling smile of hers before averting her gaze to the stars again and yawning. “We should go in.”

“We should,” the Fire Prince immediately started to sit up, but she held him down with a hand to his chest, and probably felt his crazy heartbeat under her fingers.

“Just a bit more, Prince Zuko,” she whispered, eyes trained to the sky. Slowly but surely, she moved her hand from his chest to his own hand, creating goosebumps on every inch of skin she lightly touched on the way there. Zuko could feel his body burn at the barely-there feeling of her fingertips. She intertwined her fingers with his carefully, giving him the chance to pull away if he so wished. He let out a shaky breath and squeezed her hand. She immediately squeezed his back in reassurance.

In the middle of the quiet and comfort they suddenly found in each other, they fell asleep under the stars, fingers playing with each other until exhaustion finally engulfed them in dreams of pretty smiles and light touches.

It was nice to dodge the nightmares.

-----

“I’ve heard you and Zuko slept outside today,” Sokka had a teasing tone to his voice. Y/N glared at him, “you are together now or something?”

“We are not,” she countered, scratching Appa while they talked. Zuko, Toph, Katara, and Suki had left for the beach already. Y/N still needed to feed her sky bison and Sokka offered to help with the excuse of being a good friend. The Avatar was absolutely sure that wasn’t the real reason he stayed back alongside her and he was currently proving her right, “we were just stargazing and then fell asleep.”

“Stargazing, huh? Real cute. I bet it was an endearing impromptu date, wasn’t it?”

“Since when do you even know the word impromptu?”

“I am always full of surprises.”

“Right,” she rolled her eyes and he laughed loudly, “it was not a date.”

“But you do like him, right?.”

“What?” she turned her entire body to him, furrowing her brows and crossing her arms in a defensive stance. “Why would you say that?”

“Because I know you better than you know yourself and I can tell you have feelings for him,” Sokka copied her movements, staring at her with a smirk, “I also know he likes you back.”

Y/N scoffed and transferred her attention back to Appa, “he does not.”

“So you admit you like him!”

“Shut up, Sokka!” she glared, but quickly gave up under his intense eyes and raised brows. “Yeah, I like him. It doesn’t matter, though.”

“Yes, it does! He feels the same! Look, what about this,” he leaned in closer, that crazy look he had whenever making up a plan taking over his face, “we are going to watch that play about us tonight, right? Well, you guys can sit next to each other! Like a couple!”

“That’s a terrible idea, honey.”

“It’s not! I bet he’s gonna make a move!”

“He won’t, because he’s not in love with me.”

“Wait, you’re in love with him?”

Y/N’s entire body tensed up. She shouldn’t have said that. She wasn’t in love with Zuko! Was she? I mean, she did love to be beside him, and her heart sped up when he gave her one of his rare smiles, and training with him when he had his shirt off was distracting to say the least. Besides, he really seemed to have changed and grown — she felt like she could trust him again, but she could never be sure, and she was adamant on not getting hurt once more. Especially now, when she was dealing with so many things. If he betrayed her a second time… Spirits, it would be just too much to handle.

“I don’t know,” she muttered and Sokka’s cheeky smile faltered, “I don’t want to be.”

He stretched an arm out to hold her hand fondly, “it’s fine, Y/N. Whatever happens, I’m here for you, okay?”

The Avatar smiled sadly, “thank you, Sokka. I’m really glad to have you in my life.”

“I know, honey. I’m great like that.”

She laughed loudly and he grinned in satisfaction, turning her body around and starting to lead her towards the beach, an arm through her shoulders holding her close to his body.

“Shut up, Sokka. You’re so stupid.”

“Yeah, yeah. I love you too.”

Zuko felt a pang to his chest when Sokka and Y/N arrived at the beach holding each other so dearly, but he knew he had no right to complain. She would be better off with Sokka anyway — he was good-looking, nice, funny, smart. Meanwhile, Zuko was nothing but a sad mixture of mistakes and regrets. The Avatar deserved more than that.

“Hey, Hotman,” she walked to him with a smile, planting a kiss on Sokka’s cheek before leaving his side. “Why are you all alone on the sand?”

“Because he’s boring,” Toph answered from some feet away and Katara chuckled. Zuko could feel his face redden.

“He is not,” Y/N argued amusingly, sitting down beside him and grinning. She glanced at him with a happy spark in her eyes, “are you excited for the play tonight?”

“No,” he muttered, but his lack of vivacity didn’t bother her in the slightest, “the Ember Island plays are always ridiculous.”

“I think it’s going to be fun,” she shrugged contently, basking in the hot sun, “if it isn’t, we can always throw food at the stage or whatever.”

He tried really hard, but couldn’t bit back the smile that took over his frown. He watched her attentively, noticing how she seemed to glow in the daylight, giving off this incredible warmth he had only ever seen on her. He averted away his gaze, feeling his neck and face heat up at how unapologetically beautiful she was.

Zuko cleared his throat quietly, “yeah, I guess.”

She only smirked in response.

-----

The play could be worse, he figured. Yes, their portrayal of him was horrible (even though his friends — could he call them friends? Were they friends? He hoped they were — said otherwise) and the actress playing Y/N was not nearly as pretty as the Avatar really was, but Y/N was next to him and, at some point, she had leaned her head on his shoulder tiredly and stayed there. All the training was getting to her and he felt inexplicable joy in the fact she trusted him enough to rest her body on his.

“Look,” her voice was raspy from sleepiness and a chill ran down his spine, “I think now is when you join Team Avatar and becomes our friend.”

He nodded carefully not to disturb her from her position and his heart skipped a beat when she nuzzled closer to his neck. Zuko watched as actor Zuko was accepted into the group and just after a scene with only him and actress Y/N started. Actor Zuko stared at the actress longingly, “my dear Y/N… I know I have wronged you in many ways, but I wanted to apologize for my mistakes and beg for your forgiveness!”

Y/N giggled at that, nudging him affectionately, “that really happened.”

He smiled, eyes following the performers on stage. Actor Zuko continued, “your forgiveness… And maybe your love, Avatar.”

They both immediately tensed up at the words and Y/N moved her head slightly, brows furrowing in confusion.

“My love, Prince Zuko?”

“Yes, my darling.”

They all watched as Actor Zuko and Actress Y/N kissed passionately, earning cheers from the audience. Sokka whistled loudly and Y/N turned to glare at him, receiving a wink in return.

“I have been in love with you since we first met!” Actor Zuko declared excitedly, holding Actress Y/N’s hands. “You are the only one who can make me forget about my teen angst. I love you, Y/N.”

“Well… I don’t!” Actress Y/N moved away swiftly and the crowd gasped in surprise. “I have accepted you in my group, Prince Zuko… But I’ll never accept you in my heart! You’re a bad person that doesn’t deserve my love!”

“What?!” Sokka almost screamed in disbelief. Y/N finally took her head off Zuko’s shoulder, incertitude swimming in her eyes. Before she had the chance to speak, Zuko had already left. The Water Tribe boy widened his eyes at her. “Go after him!”

Y/N nodded her head, getting out of her seat and walking after Zuko, calling his name. He ignored her, feeling anger boil inside him. He knew she would never directly say something like that, but he also knew it was true. She would never love him — he wasn’t worthy of her love, and he was pretty sure she was aware of that too.

“Zuko, wait!” she finally catched up to him, holding his arm and pulling him back. “It’s just a stupid play, Zuko. None of that is true.”

“Really, Y/N?” he turned to stare at her, rage covering his expression. “Because I’m almost certain it is. They said I don’t deserve love, Y/N, and that’s true. After everything I’ve done…”

“No!” she exclaimed desperately, shaking her head vehemently in disagreement. “Zuko, of course you deserve love. Yes, you have made mistakes, but all of us have. You shouldn’t care about what some actress says.”

“But they’re right, Y/N,” he insisted, feeling tears stinging his eyes, “I’m unworthy of love and everyone knows, and that’s why nobody actually loves me.”

“I love you!” she yelled out before she could stop herself, breath hitching at the troubled look taking over his face. Y/N sighed deeply, crossing her arms shyly and looking away, “I do,” her voice was small as she blushed, “I thought I was over my little crush for you but I wasn’t, and it’s—it’s much more than a little crush. I was afraid of admitting it but I know who you are, Zuko. You are loyal and smart and so inherently good and I love you. Spirits, I really do.”

He stared at her for a second, processing her words. She fidgeted anxiously and he smiled at all her small manners. With certainty to his movements, Zuko took a step forwards and cradled her face in his hands. He studied every inch of her expression, waiting for some kind of rejection. She offered him a hopeful smile and he was quick to smash his lips with hers, feeling the warmth that always surrounded her consume him entirely. He kissed her passionately, happiness pouring out of him — the words “she loves you” echoing inside his mind like a broken record, filling his heart with joy.

She moved away when there was no more air in her lungs, breathing heavily and grinning like a mad woman. Y/N lifted her arm and touched his scar so fondly it physically hurt. Never before had he been touched with such care and it made tears flood his eyes, something she instantly noticed, giggling at his cuteness and drying one running tear with her thumb. She felt like her chest was full. He kissed her thumb lovingly when it rested near his mouth.

She loved him. She thought he was worthy of love, of her love, even after everything he had done. No matter how many mistakes he had made, she still loved him, and that thought was enough to make Zuko feel some sort of hope towards the future.

Spirits, she really loved him.

“I love you too, Y/N. Very, very much.”

is it good? not really. could it be worse? yeah lmao

taglist: @bottledcostcowater @lammello @coldlilheart @azucanela @samsmultifandomblogs and @knaite-solo that asked to be tagged on this particular piece

thank you all for reading!! I hope you liked it!!

#zuko x reader #zuko x fem!reader #zuko x f!reader #sokka x reader #atla x reader #atla #avatar the last airbender #avatar the last airbender x reader #zuko #sokka #avatar #avatar!reader #avatar reader #ember island #the ember island players #requested

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saintobio · 2 years

Note

HIII!!! i didn't get to send my reactions to ch 1 cuz the ask box was closed but here!!!

The next hit of this chain reaction was the paparazzi and their duty to stick their nose into your business because the whole country was interested to hear about your runaway bride moment and your ex-husband’s coincidental car crash.

soooo im guessing they didn't go through with the marriage?

You were nothing more than a bystander to the celebrity whose private life was not respected in exchange for satisfying the world’s curiosity.

omg u whores, fuck off

“Come on, Y/N. Don’t you love the attention?”

what the fuck kind of question is that omfg leave her aloneee

“Oh my God! Miss Y/N, are you okay?” It was your intern, Nobara Kugisaki, who approached you at the reception area where you were visibly catching your breath. “You should’ve asked me to go to Subway instead.”

OMG NOBARA AAAAAJAJSJSJSJKAJAJSJSJSJSJ

It was bad enough that you had a weak heart, but you could never heal from the pain if anything gravely awful ever happened to your son.

I find this ironic cuz like... gojo thought something awful DID happen to his son so he tried to k!ll himself ://

He would. You knew he would understand and that was the saddest part of it. Toji was also human and he had the right to feel upset with you when you were the one at fault.

i feel so bad for toji omg ive been in the "always understanding" side of the relationship and damn, it is draining asf

Sachiro running to meet you at the foyer was a breath of fresh air. How could someone so small create an impact that was actually big? It was like all your problems would disappear the moment you saw his smile and your heart just wouldn’t cease from jumping as your toddler looked up at you with his cerulean eyes.

OMG AAAAAAAJAHSBSHSHSHHS HE'S SO CUTEEEEEE <33

Eyes that reminded you of your very first love.

)):

You were never proud of the way you handled things back then, but it was futile to mull over something you couldn’t simply erase. Like Gojou, you were only human. You let your emotions and trauma get the best out of you (or the worst, in this case). What you could do was to hope for the best and work on co-parenting with your ex-husband for the sake of your only son. However, before all of that could happen, Satoru must first be in good health.

my girl y/n deserves the WHOLE WORLD. anyone thinks otherwise are simply wrong ((:

Luckily for you, Sachiro was a true angel in disguise. He was a cheerful baby with lesser-than-normal tantrums and so he carried no form of resentment to a father he was yet to meet. In fact, he had always been enthusiastic at the sight of Satoru’s pictures or at the stories that Nina would tell him about her ‘cool and handsome’ uncle. While your baby may have gotten his physical looks from your ex-husband, he certainly inherited your soft-hearted personality. He was so easy to please that even the little things could paint a contagious smile on his chubby face.

HELP PLS IM TEARING UPPP T__T

His maturity was so admirable that hurting him would have the pain bounce back to you tenfold.

omg nooo i can already see it happening plsjsjjss nooooksksjsjsjsjs

It was Satoru’s mother.

OMG IM SCARED IM NERVOUS HELPPKSKSKSJSJS

“We'll be accepting visitors soon. If you even care enough to see him, you can go tomorrow.”

I BETTER NOT SEE PEOPLE HATING ON MOMJO. she was a mother who had to watch her son try to kill himself repeatedly for years bcs satoru thought his kid was gone. you could understand that she'd have a bit of resentment towards y/n. or that she's simply exhausted. or both.

You were once on top of that scale where you had to endure living in a loveless marriage that destroyed your femininity as a whole.

y/n is honestly so damm strong for still holding on after everything she's been through. at this point, it doesn't even matter if her & gojo end up together. id be good with it as long as they're both happy.

You realized that Sachiro was having difficulty processing the image of his father for the first time, especially not while he was unconscious in a hospital bed. He kept his distance from him as if afraid that the stranger could harm him even in his sleep, and you felt bad that you were responsible for the reaction he was showing towards his own paternal figure.

no omggg )): im crying fuuuuxkkkkkkaksnnsjsjs satoru literally wanted to raise his kid properly and for his son not to fear him or anything even similar to that. this shit breaks my heart omg AAAAAAAAAA

"Dada, wake up."

SCREAMING AND CRYING AND SHITTING TEARS. FUXKKKKK IM BAWLING IM LITERALLY UGLY CRYING RIGHT NOW

“I just wanted to check on him…” Your gaze trailed off to his bed, noticing how Suguru and Shoko were on the couch staring at you. While the latter was looking at you worriedly, her fiancé was sending sharp glares your way. “I’m sorry if I interrupted anything—”

SUGURU NOOOOSJSJSJ PLS DONT HATE US OMG 😭😭😭😭

Getou denied it albeit drowning in both remorse and a misguided sense of anger. “No, I wasn’t.” He sent Ieiri a questioning look. “I can’t believe you’d fucking side with her instead of our best friend. You lied to all of us!”

OK FUCK IM SORRY BITCH BUT THIS WHOLE SCENE IS JUST FUXKKKKK OMG AAAAAA

“Wife…”

BOI WHAT WAIT OMG I HAVEN'T PROCESSED THESE THINGS YET GIVE ME A SECOND AAAAAKANSKSJAJAJAKA

“My wife.” He had all of you at a loss for words while his eyes only searched for the woman he believed he still loved. “Let’s go home.”

*jadeos en español*

Ok but on a serious note, I seriously think we shouldn't be pointing the blame on ANYONE, especially on Momjo (and Getou, for that matter). Sure, she has no right to say she'll take Sachiro from Y/N, but you also have to remember that she had to watch her son try to commit suicide repeatedly for YEARS. She has every right to resent Y/N, and I'm sure she won't actually pull through with the taking Sachiro thing. I really do think we need to stay neutral in all this because no one is fully in the wrong. Everyone made and will make mistakes as they go, we have to try to see things from everyone perspective.

And you slayed again Saint!!! <333 pls make sure ur getting enough sleep, food, rest & time for urself. Also, can I please be "💟" anon?

this makes me imagine how sn/sy chapters would look like if tumblr had that comment option like wattpad 😹 thank u for taking the time to send ur reactions anon !! they were very entertaining to read :D

#🖤: letters to saint #series: sincerely yours #tw.suicide #💟 anon

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plant-flwrs · 4 years

Note

(2/2) Everyone treats her badly and there is angst because she hates that people can't see her as more than a Malfoy and assume she's like Draco because they’re so close. And then kind of go with that? The background is kinda detailed 😂 sorry. I just had this idea stuck in my head and well I suck at writing and you write Draco as a brother amazingly.

similar shadows // george weasley

entire request: (1/2) okay I'm finally here sending the ask. So can I have a reader x George (idk who else to ask for). So the reader is Draco's twin but in Ravenclaw. Her and Draco are really close and Draco is very protective over her but not overbearing. She's shy, book nerdy and socially awkward so she tends to stay with Draco; Draco understands her (cue sweet brother). (2/2) Everyone treats her badly and there is angst because she hates that people can't see her as more than a Malfoy and assume she's like Draco because they’re so close. And then kind of go with that? The background is kinda detailed 😂 sorry. I just had this idea stuck in my head and well I suck at writing and you write Draco as a brother amazingly.

masterlist!

a/n: ugh i love writing draco as a brother even if his characterization is completely inaccurate for it, he just has such little brother energy to me (and a warning, i took a lot of creative liberties for draco’s personality in this, i couldn’t resist it. it just made the brother/sister dynamic sm better in my opinion). also included flirty!george in this just bc i love it. i hope u like this, tysm for the request!!

summary: Living in the Malfoy shadow conditioned you to behave a certain way, avoid certain things. But, once your able to use the Quidditch pitch to finally prove you are something different than your last name, everything seems to fall into place. You even catch a certain Weasley’s eye.

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The air in Malfoy Manor was always thick; thick with unsaid words, hateful tension, and awful regrets. It was a blessing for you to leave and go to Hogwarts every year.

The train ride was something you looked forwards to. Curled up in the window seat, because Draco always let you have the window seat, with whatever book you were reading at the moment. You tuned out Draco’s usual complaining to Pansy and Blaise, indulging yourself in the novel perched on your lap.

The trip never lasted long enough, though, and soon you were shuffled into Hogwarts. Draco gave your shoulder one last bump and a weak smile before you went to sit at the Ravenclaw table. You tilted your head back, gazing up at the ceiling with wonder in your eyes. The Ravenclaw table was filling up, and you managed a seat closest to the professors’ table. Your eyes scanned the Slytherin table until they found the familiar head of platinum hair you were looking for. Even if he wasn’t with you, just seeing Draco made you feel a little safer.

Dinner went quickly with your head shoved in a book, and soon you were excused to your common rooms. Draco slid away from the mass of green ties, walking with you to your common room. The two of you walked slowly, falling from the crowd to stroll by yourselves.

“I heard that the Ravenclaw Quidditch team needs a new seeker this year,” Draco started, shoving his hands in his pants pockets, “maybe you should try out.”

“I don’t know,” you clutched your book closer to your chest, “Quidditch was always your thing.”

“You’re a great flyer, Y/n,” Draco glanced at your hesitant expression, “look, it can’t hurt to try out.”

“Maybe,” you offered him, enjoying the way he smiled proudly once you gave in.

He wrapped a brotherly arm around your shoulders, marching you up the endless amount of stairs to the Ravenclaw common room.

The next day of lessons came far too soon, and your timetable clutched in your shaky hands was giving you a headache. You looked up, seeing a familiar room number, but upon looking back at your timetable, you realized you were on the completely wrong side of the castle.

You turned on your heal, starting down a new corridor. Glancing at your watch, you saw you were already late for lessons. While your eyes were off the hallway in front of you, you hit the hard chest of someone coming your way.

“In a hurry, Malfoy?” the voice said as you both stumbled back.

George Weasley stood in front of you, a playful and happy expression on his handsome features. You knew he was only joking when he called you ‘Malfoy’, but you really did hate it. People called Draco that, and you didn’t often like to be associated with the reputation your father had curated with the last name.

“You two!” someone called from the end of the hallway.

George groaned, looking over your shoulder, “Great.”

“Detention, tonight, my office,” Filch told the two of you, pointing a finger in your faces.

You pulled back, eyeing his finger suspiciously. You didn’t realize you were doing it, but as George looked at you he noticed you were doing the signature Malfoy sneer.

“Thanks,” George said sarcastically, bumping your shoulder as he passed you.

You took a deep breath, starting off to find your class again.

“How were your classes?” Draco slumped next to you on the bench, pulling out a piece of what you thought might be pumpkin bread.

He tore off a chunk, eating it slowly. He held a piece out to you and you accepted it gratefully.

“Awful,” you said simply, putting your head to rest against your hand, “I couldn’t find half of them.”

“You should have told me, I could have helped,” Draco said, looking a little annoyed at you.

“You had your own classes to worry about,” you defended, taking another piece of pumpkin bread from him.

Draco rolled his eyes, looking around the courtyard until his eyes fell on Harry Potter sitting with a few other Gryffindors.

“Given any other thought about Quidditch? Tryouts are next week,” he mentioned, tearing his eyes away from Harry.

“I don’t know, depends on how hard my classes are,” you made up an excuse.

“Your classes are never hard for you,” Draco teased, giving you the rest of the bread, “and besides, I think you have a real chance of being a better seeker than Potter.”

You rolled your eyes, unable to contain the surprised laughter that bubbled from your chest.

“Yeah right!”

Draco scoffed, joining in your infectious laughter. You finished off the bread in your hand and reluctantly went to serve your detention with Filch.

You had never had detention before, so nerves racked your body. You looked around anxiously, twisting your hands behind your back.

“Malfoy,” George called to you from the end of the hallway.

You turned around to look at him, and waited while he jogged to catch up with you.

“You’re actually going to the detention? Figured you would have thrown a fit to Dumbledore to get out of it,” he said rudely, giving you a critical glance.

You ignored him, biting your tongue. You walked a few paces ahead of him, also ignoring his scoff.

You opened the door to Filch’s office, not bothering to wait for George. You sat on one of the old chairs in front of the desk, waiting for Filch’s sneer to turn into words.

“You two are going to polish the frames on all the portraits in this corridor,” he growled, placing two toothbrushes and one rag on his desk.

“All of them?” George repeated, sounding bothered.

“All of ‘em,” Filch said, his mouth turning up in a smile at the sight of misery.

You took a toothbrush and the rag, standing from your seat. You wordlessly walked out into the hallway and went all the way to one end. You kneeled, getting to work on a low hanging portrait. The portrait was a family sitting at a dining room table, mounds of food piled in front of them. There was a mother bouncing a baby on her knee, lifting food into it’s mouth. A young boy sat across from her, shoveling mashed potatoes into his small mouth. The father at the head of the table watched them both happily, cutting the large chicken at the center of the table. They all stopped what they were doing at the sight of you crouched in front of them, but once they saw you begin to clean, their cautious looks were replaced with thankful ones.

You watched the family, smiling faintly as they began eating again.

George had went to the opposite side of the hallway, and you began moving towards each other as the sun dwindled from the sky and candles dimly illuminated the hall. Soon, you were a few feet apart, both scrubbing with heavy hands. You moved onto the next portrait, craning your neck to look at it’s place much higher than you could reach.

You stood on the tips of your toes, extending your arm as far as it would go. You couldn’t even reach the bottom of the frame. Suddenly, George’s taller frame was hovering next to you, watching with an entertained smirk as you balanced on your toes.

“Need some help?” he drawled, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest.

You fell to stand flat on your feet, nodding your head shyly. He chuckled, moving past you and effortlessly cleaning the frame.

You watched him for a moment, noticing the rise in his shirt that exposed the beginnings of his toned stomach. You watched the way his biceps flexed under his sleeves as his hand moved back and forth against the portrait. Your eyes drifted back to the wall, sitting with your legs crossed to clean a portrait closer to the floor.

“You don’t talk as much as Draco does,” George said suddenly, looking down at you from his position above you.

You didn’t respond, only giving him a quizzical expression.

“Every time I see him he’s ranting or complaining about something or other,” George continued, playfully smiling.

“Complaining is one of his hobbies,” you teased, smiling at the sound of George’s chuckle.

“So you’re his twin?” he asked, dropping his hand from the portrait and leaning against the wall again to look at you.

“Yeah,” you said, still focused on the portrait.

“You guys don’t seem too similar,” he said, furrowing his brows.

“Well, are you and Fred too similar?” you quipped, and he chuckled again.

“ ‘Spose we aren’t,” he said, turning back to the portrait, “good thing really. Gives me the opportunity to be the better one of us.”

You giggled at George’s joke, and stood from your spot on the floor.

He handed you the rag and you gave one last swipe to the portrait you just scrubbed. You placed your hands on your hips, looking down the hallway and admiring your work.

“Guess that’s it,” George said, twisting his brush in his fingers.

“Guess it is,” you said sheepishly.

You turned to walk back to Filch’s office, George trailing behind you.

Something about that little interaction made your spirits higher for an entire week. You didn’t know why, but the idea of making George Weasley laugh gave you some confidence that you lacked before. Your entire life at Hogwarts, people assumed you were like Draco. You fell in Draco’s shadow and people associated you with him and his mean tendencies. When you spoke with George, you knew he could relate to you. You knew he fell in Fred’s shadow some times, everyone knew that. Fred was the louder one, the one who usually had a girlfriend cheering for him at his Quidditch matches. George was quieter and thoughtful. You felt drawn to George.

You riding the coattails of that minor interaction with George was the only thing willing your legs to move towards the Quidditch pitch. Well, that and Draco’s firm grip on your shoulders making sure you didn’t turn and run away.

Draco had written to your mother after his first mention of Quidditch to you, and she sent you everything you needed with no hesitation. You gripped your new Firebolt in your shaky hands and tugged at the heavy pads wrapped around your forearms. Once you stood in front of the Ravenclaw team captain, you bent over slightly to adjust your knee pads. Draco’s hands left your shoulders.

“Good luck, you’re gonna do great.” he mumbled into your ear, glancing around to make sure no one else heard his kind words. He flashed you a thumbs up as he walked to the elevated grass near the goal posts, sitting down to watch.

You pulled your gloves on tighter, afraid they would fall off and affect your playing. You gulped as the captains eyes scanned you critically.

“Malfoy?” he asked, not hiding the surprise in his voice.

“Yes?” you squeaked, gripping your broom tighter.

“Oh,” he said, a pleasantly surprised look on his face, “nothing, just didn’t expect to see you here.”

You faked a smile at him, biting your tongue. You were already here, why not try to make a good impression?

You followed all the directions. The drills they had you do were nothing compared to what Draco and you used to do in the garden during the summer. You easily flew laps around everyone else, a combination of your impressive broom, and your skills alone.

The captain had reservations about you, eyeing Draco suspiciously as he cheered for you from the ground. However, after your third successful time catching the snitch, he didn’t care much about your last name.

He told you that you made the team a few days later, telling you when to show up for practice, and when the next game was. It was Ravenclaw vs. Hufflepuff, and your captain sounded quite confident about it. So did Draco.

“You’re going to kill them!” he said enthusiastically, not hiding any of his excitement as you two walked alone along bank of the Black Lake.

You giggled at his enthusiasm, unable to stop the confidence bubbling in your chest at the thought of you catching the snitch during your first Quidditch match.

“Well, it is Hufflepuff,” you joked, shoving his shoulder with yours, “I doubt they’ll put up too much of a fight.”

Draco made an ‘ooo’ noise, his shoulders jostling with laughter.

“Trash talking already? Before your first match?”

You smiled sheepishly, not often getting to talk this freely with anyone. You enjoyed your private talks with Draco. He didn’t have to put on a hard façade, and you didn’t have to put on a painfully nice one. You were both free to be yourselves, and you hoped one day you would have someone, who wasn’t your brother, to be yourself around.

You had gone over the plays tirelessly with your captain. You didn’t eat for three days, too nervous to find food appealing. You had to force down some eggs and toast before your match, just so you wouldn’t pass out.

You pulled at your gloves uncomfortably, fidgeting with every detail on your perfect broom just to make sure it was all in order. You stepped onto the field, hearing the roaring crowd. Everyone in the school was there; it was the first match of the year.

You felt your eggs and toast fighting their way up your throat, but you swallowed hard, willing them to stay put. Your chin shook with the intensity in which you clenched your jaw, eyes darting everywhere at once.

“You’ve got this,” your captain slapped you on the back, jolting you forward a bit. You stumbled, using your broom as support to catch yourself from falling on your face.

Once on the field, you hovered easily face to face with the Hufflepuff seeker. Your entire body was shaking with nerves, and just before the whistle was blown, you heard the entire Slytherin and Ravenclaw student section joined in chanting your name. Your first name.

You smiled widely, enjoying the change. You were being recognized for more than your last name, for more than your family crest. You weren’t the girl who bore a striking resemblance to the meanest boy in your grade, you were more than the Malfoy’s blonde hair and grey eyes. You were you. You were Y/n.

The game was over faster than it started. The chasers in blue had only scored four goals on the Hufflepuff's before you caught the snitch, diving down to the ground with your hands wrapped tightly around the little golden orb.

Lee Jordan screamed from his spot on the teacher’s balcony, and you thought it would have made the ears bleed of anyone within 100 feet of him. Your team huddled around you, lifting you from your feet and throwing you into the air. You never let go of the snitch, keeping it clutched in your hand until you spotted Draco strolling over to you on the field. You tapped the shoulder of your captain, and he told everyone to put you down. People jostled your shoulders, clasping your back and sending varied praises your way. You nearly felt like crying, you were so happy.

You ran to Draco, tossing your broom cautiously on the ground. You jumped into his chest, his unsuspecting hands still tucked into his pants pockets. He made a disgruntled noise, stumbling back as you wrapped your sweaty arms around his neck.

“Oh my god!” you screamed, your face a flushed pink.

“I know!” he screamed back, smiling at your enthusiasm.

“Let me see it,” he said, putting you on your feet and picking up your hand with his.

You let his palm hold yours, opening your fingers slowly. The snitch stayed put, resting still in your gloved hand. Draco’s mouth cracked into a smile, his pale face illuminating with happiness and pride. He was proud of his sister.

“I knew you would do it,” he said, wrapping his arms around your shoulders again and bringing you into a suffocating hug.

You trekked up the hill to the castle, blue surrounding you in a huddle. The only thing out of place was Draco’s all black suit he wore, but it didn’t matter. You walked side by side, and no one questioned his presence, because you just caught the snitch.

“Nice game,” you heard a voice from behind you, falling into step with you.

You looked to your left, seeing the tall frame of George Weasley. He wore a knit beanie over his ginger hair, and a sweater with his initial on it. You beamed at him, your cheeks still flushed from the excitement.

“Thanks,” you said, not taking your eyes off of him until he looked away, laughing.

“Who knew you had it in ya?” he joked, bumping his shoulder into yours.

“I did,” Draco mumbled from your other side. You turned to him, sending him a warning glance, and then looked back at George.

“Well, the Hufflepuff's certainly didn’t,” you said, referencing the way their seeker had barely even glanced at you when the game was starting.

George laughed again, and you felt your knees go a little weak. Who’s wouldn’t at the sight of an older and handsome boy laughing at a joke you made?

“Not looking forward when we have to go against Ravenclaw in a few weeks,” George said, an impressed and admiring look on his face, “you’ll definitely give Harry a run for his money.”

Draco snorted from beside you, and you sent a sharp elbow to his side. He groaned, moving a hand to nurse the spot. You kept your dazed eyes locked on Georges. George’s eyes flickered to a semi-hunched over Draco, his smile widening.

“I’ll talk to you later,” he said, smirking at you.

You watched his long legs carry him away, his hands stuffed in his pockets.

“Don’t tell me you fancy a Wea-” Draco started, but you winded your elbow up as a warning and he stopped suddenly.

“Shut up,” you said, still watching the way George moved through the crowd as if he was untouchable.

It was in that moment that you felt normal. You didn’t feel ostracized or different. You felt like a normal teenager with a normal annoying brother, playing a normal sport, and having a normal schoolgirl crush. Your smile felt like it would never leave you that night.

And it didn’t, it only managed to grow larger. You felt two large hands clasp around your shoulders at breakfast. You were stuffing your face, finally finding food appealing again, and with cheeks filled with food you turned and locked eyes with the always handsome George Weasley.

You stopped chewing, food sitting docile in your mouth. Your eyes widened, and you brought a hurried hand to cover your mouth as you began to chew again, ducking your head slightly as George looked at you, amused.

“Just wanted to check and see how the post-win glory was treating you,” he said, straddling the bench next to you.

You swallowed hurriedly, taking a sip of water from your goblet to wash down the food. You smiled nervously at him.

“Well, I don’t feel too different,” you said, grinning.

He laughed, resting an elbow on the table and pushing his hair back slightly with his large hand. You gulped as you watched his biceps flex at the movement, admiring his strong jaw as his head turned into his hand.

“Really?” he teased, a crooked grin on his lips as he shamelessly looked you up and down.

“I got my appetite back,” you said, buttering up your third piece of toast and putting it on your plate, “couldn’t eat for days before the match.”

“Harry gets like that,’ George said casually, “Fred and Ron eat more than ever before a match.”

You giggled, and George smiled at the sight.

“What about you?” you asked him, meeting his brown eyes with your grey ones.

George seemed taken aback, like no one often asked about him.

“Oh,” he said, smiling shyly at you, “I don’t know. I guess I eat less before matches.”

You nodded your head, and George cleared his throat awkwardly.

“Alright,” he began to stand, looking down at you, “just wanted to check in on ya.”

“Thanks,” you said, blushing wildly as he sauntered back over to the Gryffindor table.

Practice only got harder and longer, and soon, you barely had any time to sleep. You managed to get most of your homework done in class, but you still had some extra assignments creeping up on you. You spent most of your nights on the pitch, and the evenings grew colder. Every night, though, you could glance to the green student section and see Draco huddled in some type of fur, watching you practice. He often brought his own homework up there with him, using it to pass the time when you weren’t doing anything particularly impressive.

Draco met you on the pitch as the moon illuminated the grass around you. You drank some water, sweating under your thick robes.

The two of you walked back to the castle, and Draco slid you a roll of parchment from his bag.

“What’s this?” you asked, unrolling the paper.

“It’s your potions essay,” he said, “I knew you’d forget to do it, so I took care of it for you.”

“Thank you,” you sighed out, feeling tremendously relieved at the thought of one less assignment to to, “I feel exhausted.”

“You look it,” Draco mumbled, and you hit his arm with the tightly rolled parchment.

You made it into the castle, the halls squeaking with the sound of your teammates walking to the Ravenclaw dorm. Draco followed you, the two of you breaking off from your team. He carried your parchment for you as you untied all the pads and equipment hugging your body.

“Both the Malfoy’s in one place? To what do I owe this pleasure?” you turned, seeing George Weasley slipping from behind a tapestry hanging on the wall.

“Where did you come from? Is there something behi-” Draco lifted the tapestry carefully, and while he moved, George replaced his spot next to you.

Draco felt the hard wall behind the tapestry and you watched him with a smirk on your face as his hands continued to inspect where George had managed to come from.

“Hello,” he said, bumping his shoulder into yours with his arms crossed over his chest.

“Hi,” you said shyly, painfully aware of your wind-thrown hair and sweating face.

“What are you two up to?”

“He’s just walking me back to my dorm,” you said, still fiddling with one part of the pad on your arm that always gave you trouble.

“Well, I’m sure he needs his beauty sleep. Think I could manage getting you back safely?” George purred from beside you, speaking so Draco couldn’t hear him as you watched your brother hit his knuckles on the hard stone wall.

“Could you? Pretty big shoes to fill,” you joked, pointing at Draco’s fancy dress shoes that were obviously smaller than George’s.

“I wouldn’t be caught dead in those shoes,” George joked back, and at the sound of your loud giggle, Draco stopped looking at the wall.

“What’s so funny?” he snarled, sending a foe intimidating look at George.

“Draco,” you said sternly and warningly, “George is going to walk me to my dorm, you can go and get some rest.”

Draco narrowed his eyes at you, weighing his options. He could give up easily and leave you to a presumably awkward walk alone with George, or he could embarrass you a little. He chose the latter.

“Alone? Are you mental-”

“I swear to god Draco,” you cut him off, the sheer tone of your voice making his eyes widen a little in fear.

Draco cleared his throat awkwardly, adjusting the tight sleeves of his dress shirt.

“Fine,” he said, “I’ll see you tomorrow morning?” he cast a glance at George, looking stern, “In one piece?”

George was smiling like a fool, suppressing a giggle at the interaction. Draco shoved your parchment into your chest, and you held onto it as he stalked off.

“Thank you, Draco! Love you!” you called after him in a sing-song and sisterly voice.

He waved his hand, back still towards you, and you and George laughed.

You two started walking again, falling easily into step with each other, You struggled holding your parchment without crushing it as you still worked on that one part of your arm padding.

“Do you need some help?” George asked from beside you, offering his hand out.

“Uh, yeah,” you said, handing him the parchment as the two of you began up the stairs.

He watched you for a moment, your delicate fingers struggling to untie a complicated knot.

“Here,” he said, placing a hand on your shoulder to cease your walking.

You stopped, and he took a step down so he was on a lower level of the stairs. You were eye level, and his brown eyes bore into yours as he waited for you to hold your hand out. You did, and he crouched to place the scroll on the step next to him. He returned to your height, his strong fingers going to your arm.

He held your hand for a moment, pulling it to the side as he looked at the knot. His hand slid down your wrist, over the padding, and to the knot near your elbow. You kept your eyes on his hands, afraid that if you looked at his face you might explode.

“Thanks,” you whispered, feeling like your lips would crack and fall off if you said anything more.

“Of course, darling,” he whispered back, and you could hear the smirk in his voice.

You felt your legs tremble, your entire body seemed to have fireworks shooting through its veins. You did everything in your power not to throw your head back and start giggling manically.

Soon, the padding was looser on your arm, and George held it as it fell off. He gave it to you, placing it gently in your outstretched hand. You took it, holding it by some of the string at the top. He turned you by your shoulders so you stood directly facing him. You felt your throat close a little.

He was bending his knees suddenly, crouching at your feet. His face was by your hips, and you felt your face burn red at the close proximity. You felt his long fingers working on the knee pads you still had on. One of his warm hands lay flat against your shin for support, as the other pulled easily at the string holding your kneepad on. Your fingers tightened around the arm pads you were holding, and once again you were willing yourself not to let out some sort of desperate giggle.

He rose, meeting your eyes.

“All better,” he mumbled, his voice deep.

He held your knee pads for you with one hand, and the other held onto your parchment. You both stood for a moment on the stairs like that, face to face at the same height. If you took a slightly deeper breath, your chest would have expanded and brushed against George’s. You took shallow breaths.

“Let’s go,” he said, but made no effort to move. He sounded entranced and dazed, and you caught his eyes flicker to your lips. You licked them nervously, not realizing what you were doing until George’s eyes followed your tongue gliding against your mouth. You saw his adam’s apple bob in his throat, and your eyes widened a little.

You turned suddenly, going to take another step up the stairs. George’s strong hand wrapped around your wrist, steadying you as you stumbled back to the lower step. You nearly fell, but his strong chest was there to catch you. You were pulled against him and his arm wrapped around your lower waist. He looked at you for a second, and then pulled you down another step so you were on the same one as him. He bent his neck down, and you tilted your head up, your lips meeting in the middle.

One of his hands moved to wrap around the back of your neck, willing your face closer to his as if there was any space between you two. You heard the clatter of you knee pads as he set them aside a few feet away, and you dropped the arm pads you were holding. Your hands slid to rest on his chest, feeling the soft material of his sweater beneath your cold fingers. You pressed a little against him, his toned chest not that far from your touch. He smirked as you ran your nails down from his collar bones to dangerously close to the top of his belt. You pulled away, resting your forehead on his. You both breathed deeply, lips parted.

“Draco’s gonna kill me,” you whispered with a small smile.

“You’re thinking about your brother right now?” George joked back, tucking a piece of your blonde hair behind your ear.

“Should I be thinking about your brother?”

George pulled away from you completely, his hearty laugh filling the small staircase you were in. You laughed too, picking up your padding.

George held the padding and your parchment in one hand, and you held both of your arm pads in one hand. He slipped his hand into yours, and the two of you walked up the stairs.

As you went, neither of you felt like you were in the shadow. George was his own person apart from Fred, with his own interests and his own jokes. You weren’t the brooding Malfoy, you were the girl who laughed and kissed boys in stairwells.

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redxblueihateloveyou · 3 years

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Hiiii!!! 💫💕🌸🥳

Can I bother with a question... I was (re)watching that zhang qiling edit (not today) - 'cause it's so cool, btw- and I wondered if Reboot Xiaoge’s your favourite one...? And if you're up to answering, what do you think about the other adaptations? Especially (our small bean) xiao yuliang's interpretation of xiaoge?

🤗🌺💐🐰💕

Hey, my precious patootie hehe ILY it always makes me very happy knowing that you rewatch my vids <3

lol dang it, I was kinda hoping to avoid this question, just because I feel like I'd find it hella hard to explain some things, but I'll try my best and hopefully it'll make some sense xD

I'll start from afar bc I wanna try to explain my reasonings, since I don't want to go without arguments into such highly debated question lolz. I talked about this a bit in my previous asks somewhere, but not broadly as to why that one guy hit all the right spots.

So throughout the books Wu Xie always does this wonderful thing, where he very tangibly describes the feeling he gets when Xiaoge is near, I mean like the aura around him. And he always somehow does it so colorful, that this mix of safety, assurance, calmness, composure and some things I can't quite put into one noun, that he brings to him, I think everyone who've read the books can recognize as this almost magical "Xiaoge feeling". It's not just the way he acts in some dangerous situations or smth like that. It's just everything. You either have it or you don't. And here goes my first argument... to me none of them, except for Huang Junjie and Yuliang have it.

I mean it's not even the obvious stuff, it's like the way they move during the action scenes, the way they even stand and hold themselves, the way they touch Wu Xie, the tone of their voices (both of which are like soothing as fuck), little things you'd think wouldn't matter, but when you watch it and all the puzzle pieces are together, you're like... fuck yeah, thats him.

Also not really that weighty of a point, but to me there's always a joy to see that the actor who plays the character not only gets what's he's playing, but also loves it, bc it's always seen on screen. Usually when some asked about the character they play and what they have in common for example they answer with obvious things like if some character is introverted they're like "well I also don't talk very much" or smth like that, you know what I mean. When I was watching interviews of Yuliang and Huang Junjie I was just smiling so much, bc they've said such things that made me go "yeah, Qiling is safe in their hands".

In Reboot case working in such close proximity with the author definitely also played a huge role here. Bc it kinda gets complicated in some aspects since the books are written from Wu Xie's point of view and you can't only base your picture on his perspective, just bc it's coming from a person who after being basically told "you're my whole world" goes "I'm just a person he randomly passes by in his long life" in his thoughts. Not only he's utterly clueless and dumb when it comes to all this, that he wouldn't notice the way Qiling looks at him and other things, its also not that kind of book, that would go "I suddenly caught poker face looking at me like I'm his whole existence" (and I honestly don't want it to be that book lmao). So you have to take into the account here stuff like what author says to get the whole picture, bc if you look at that from the point of Qiling's view for example, this shit takes a whole wild turn. So I really loved that in UN and Reboot ways of showing Qiling's feelings were well thought out and fit the timeline.

Bc it also works both ways, when it comes to other adaptations. Like Qiling is very and I mean ETREMELY hard to win over. We all know that it was a very long process of gaining his trust and even longer for him to fall for Wu Xie to the point of him being his everything. So what I want in those interpretations is for them to get at which point of their relationships what Xiaoge's behavior makes sense. I do not need any fanservice if it ruins the character, I'll just hate it. The thing that their feelings didn't come out of nowhere is what I LOVE about this ship, bc I'm not the kind of person who believes in "we love for nothing" thing and love at first sight thing (only "got hots for each other" at first sight), bc thats bull. Wu Xie became his everything after a long LONG process of getting to know each other. At the beginning tho he was the same stranger to him as everyone else. So what Reboot Qiling feels for Wu Xie is not what UN's Qiling feels for Wu Xie yet and what UN's Qiling feels for Wu Xie is not what Lost Tomb's Qiling feels for Wu Xie (which at that point was nothing). And I feel like not everyone gets the fact that you can totally wreck the character if you make him behave not the way he behaved in that particular time. Like for example, if someone would make a MDZS adaptation where at the very beginning of their relationships LZ treats WWX the way he treated him after the reincarnation just because "who cares, it's still LZ", that would be dumb af, see what I mean. So Xiaoge having a weakness for Wu Xie in part one is automatically not a Xiaoge to me, bc a huge part of his character and the thing NPSS speaks a lot about is just how IMPOSSIBLE it is for someone to catch his attention and how long it took Wu Xie to get there. So let's just say to me UN and Reboot Qilings for the first time didn't feel like some mashup or character summary/parody, they were Qilings the way they are supposed to be in that part of the story, bc it was the only times someone actually bothered to coordinate it.

Now as to why I prefer one to another. Xiaoge has this thing... the way he holds himself with other people, that is sometimes intentionally and sometimes unintentionally suppressing.

Like everyone knows that if you're a passerby, Qiling genuinely doesn't fucking care and would in fact be pretty harsh about it in terms of treating people like they do not deserve their attention. He won't be like "please, don't bother me", he simply ignored them like an empty space. He is also like that with acquaintances who in his opinion do not deserve his respect like that girl who went hysterical, bc she was upset that he was the only one who wasn't drooling on her like all other men on the crew, Chen Wenjin, Wu Xie's uncles and etc. He's not openly disrespectful unless they trigger him in some way (usually by trying to act superior or later on for not treating Wu Xie right), but if they do, he will in fact remind them their place in sometimes a very rude way, at times humiliating them in front of ppl bc he looks younger than them and talking starts.

He's always doing things on his own terms and hates being told what to do. Like he legit scared Chen Wenjin just with a look and the tone of his voice when he said "let go", when she tried to command him on the mission and grabbed him trying to lecture him about what he should or shouldn't do. That's why Wu Erbai didn't even try anything like this and let him do whatever he needed to do and equally lead the mission in Reboot. And why the scene where Wu Xie 'commands' "Xiaoge, come back" and he immediately listens holds another special place in my heart. Bc he NEVER and I mean NEVER allows such things to ANYONE.

So here I came to a point of why despite loving them both dearly, my favorite Xiaoge is Huang Junjie.

I have this dissonance with Yuliang's version when to me in many scenes it felt like he and Wu Xie are the same age. Like if he was Xiaoge, but in his 20s. In his interactions with Chen Wenjin the dynamics was turned upside down, with him being okay with her telling him what to do and just in general the way she behaved with him. Same as like I didn't always quite believe him to be on par with older generation or even Pangzi, it just felt like he was truly younger than them. Some scenes that I do find extremely cute just don't fit book Xiaoge at all, I'm talking about some moments like his face when Wu Xie gave him food, or him pouting and many things he's done, when you were going "uwu he's a baby". He just never gives me this feeling in the books ever, not just bc he's 100 years old, but sad fact here.. bc he's simply unable to behave that way. Like in the books you'll desperately want to shower him with love, but he's just... I can't quite explain, it's very sad.

I guess it's just you know these characters, who are like hundreds years old, but look like they're 18? I think you have to be very careful with how you write those, so you could deliver that. And in UN because of some changed dynamics and scenes I straight up forgot about it, until Wu Xie threw some joke like "he's an old man" in front of a restaurant.

In Reboot Xiaoge could make Wu Erbai stutter with one move, put Yuliang's version in the same scene, I just don't think it would've worked. Like I'm trying to imagine him telling UN's Wu Erbai what to do and having troubles already haha. Same as I don't think he's capable to be genuinely mad at Wu Xie, and HJJ nailed it esp in one of my fav when Wu Xie was laughing at Pangzi's joke about him catching cold. The look he gave him and how ZYL just retreated was priceless xD. And boy could Qiling get angry with him in the books!

Otherwise I didn't have any drastic fall outs there, like with Joseph's Wu Xie and Ah Ning's death, because that was just too much of a difference, but there were still moments where it was once again this the same scene completely different emotion thing. He was more tolerable to ppl in general here, more pliable. And 50% of the time he gave me the cute lost kitten type, which I just cannot connect with the feeling he gave me in the books. His personality is a cat type 100%, but like seriously "cute baby" is the last word combination I would ever apply to book Xiaoge, but with Yuliang's version it's easily applied. So small bean he is indeed. With Joseph and in UN it works incredibly perfect to me, but the way he is in UN is at times too gentle. And there are lots of scenes where Joseph himself looked at him in a way "you're too cute, let me pinch your cheeks" kind of way, or the way he like sat down next to him on the coast, he was a bit babying him at times. I can't imagine book pingxie doing that. It's just a whole different vibe, the way he takes care of him, the way he lets him take care of him... it's...uuuuuuuuu another vibe (see, I'm so good at explaining lmao).

It's also kinda funny to me, bc HJJ who's the smallest and who irl truly a kitten never once gave me that feeling on screen for some reason. The one babied and loved by every crew and old ppl, who was cutely hiding behind ZYL's back on set, who won't sue an ex who almost ruined his career bc of how stupid she is, bc he "didn't want to hurt her", who according to staff can't even step on a fly, whom CMH was petting for several minutes after he had to hit him with a prop brick bc he didn't wanna do it lmao. I was just like.. ok, this is hilarious, bc I in fact didn't expect him to be a small bean, so watching all the bts made me go LOOOOL. Probably ZYL acting like a 3 year old helped him transform and the age difference problem got lost lmao

As for other adaptations. You know I can't watch seriously "Lost Tomb", I think some ppl probably have some nostalgic feeling about it, but I'm sorry, to me it's fucking hilarious. Like I've already said it looks like some type of twilight parody thing or smth. Soft damselle Wu Xie esp killed me, bc 1st when he ever was that, 2nd in the first book he's salty af, I don't even know this dude in this interpretation, I was like who's this. YangYang I know him from other things, I really don't think it's his role. I know the script and everything is bad. I know the costume and hair are horrendously funny, but it's just I was watching him in those action scenes and was like no... just I'm sorry but I'm not feeling it. I simply just don't know what to say about the whole thing seriously, bc I don't even know where to start. 10 episodes of some salad finished with one mutilated scene from book 6 for no reason the fact that characters are weird themselves also I can't quite tell, did they really just meet or they imply smth else lmao.. I'm sorry, but I do not get it.

I've given LT2 another try after finishing all the books and I've dropped it half way through, Cheng Yi wasn't even close to how I pictured Xiaoge in any aspect. He in fact didn't do anything OOC or off the book or anything, I just was like "not my Qiling". Happens sometimes.

Explore with the note you already know how I feel about this lol let's just forget.

P.S. To be fair here also maybe we should take into account the fact that some got luckier than other with "at which point" Xiaoge they're playing. Like for example, "Wrath of the Sea" and "Qingling Tree" books which is LT2 is not exactly you can say much about Qiling there, he trolls them there in the beginning (in a brilliant way that was totally lost in the adaptation) and he is there in "Wrath of Sea", but it's not the part that can make his character shine in any way, there's not much things happening there that would make you fall for him or get to know him; Yuliang grabbed the fattest piece bc it's middle several books, when they're always together and his character shines the most in terms of clues about past, opening up to Wu Xie and Pangzi, and there are many many events where you can get the picture of what kind of man he is; Huang Junjie grabbed my fav piece of utter devotion, where he's already fully and wholeheartedly belongs to Wu Xie, that I'm just weak for. So like... there's also that I guess xD.

#answered #jaecomments #zhang qiling #daomu biji #dmbj #lost tomb reboot #i still feel like i couldn't quite explain stuff lol #its a complicated question xD #do not kill me for my i guess weird opinions haha #huang junjie #xiao yuliang #lost tomb #pingxie

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realcube · 3 years

Text

Haikyuu girls // The Strap - NSFW headcanons

pairings: kiyoko x reader, yachi x reader, saeko x reader

summary: you and your s/o decide to add a bit of spice to your sex so y’all use a strap - the following headcanons are how I think they’ll use it/react..

tw// aged-up au!, (she/her) reader, vagina-having reader, sexual intercourse, strap-ons, WLW sex, fingering, oral (receiving and giving), swearing, exhibition

Kiyoko Shimizu

honestly, you’re both very diplomatic when it comes to deciding who gives and who receives

whenever y’all do it, the mood kinda just decides for itself

however, since both y’all were just blankly staring at the bright pink object that sat in the middle of the bed, Kiyoko figured that she’d take one for the team

also, since it was her who suggested and bought the item, she thought it would only be fair if she gave it try first

so, she guided you through the steps of putting it on while strapping it onto herself

then, once she was done, she bent you over and got to it

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

Your eyes rolled back into your head from the unholy mix of ecstasy and pain Kiyoko made you feel. Never before have you felt so full. The way she mastered the smooth plastic toy so it occasionally brushed against your g-spot left you salivating and begging for more - just how she intended. “Kiyoko~” You whined, pushing your face out of the blankets so she could hear your desperate pleas, “M- Muh, More! Please..”

A light pant left Kiyoko’s lip as she retracted one of her hand from your waist to reach down at trace sloppy circles around her clit, but she was a lot more sensitive than she thought she would be so after that small bit of stimulation, she involuntarily tossed her head back and let out a low moan.

That was part of the reason she wanted to refrain from touching herself while pounding into you but the sight of your dripping pussy being stretched out by her strap along with the high-pitch mewls you let out was more than enough to leave her with a throbbing cunt and weak knees.

Without a word, she altered her movements so that she was now thrusting into you at a rapid pace, every movement of her hip directed at the spot you pleaded to be stimulated and upon your request, Kiyoko delivered. However, not without a cost. At this point, your g-spot was getting used and abused so quickly, your body was barely able to keep up.

Lewd wails escaped your throat, your mind clouded with pleasure and euphoria yet you were still conscious enough to notice that the slight vibrating of your thighs could only mean one thing.

Despite the fact you were struggling to breath through all the erotic sensations throughout your body, let alone think - as soon as you felt your orgasm arise, the natural instinct to ask for permission managed to muster up enough energy to allow you to croak out, “May I?”

Kiyoko couldn’t help but giggle, gently caressing you waist with one hand and abandoning her needy clit to attend to your puckered hole. “You’ve been a good girl.” She mused, a low groan falling from her lips as he speed decreased slightly just to tease you. “Go on.”

Her deacceleration barely effected you as by the time those words had reached your ears, you were already halfway through your climax. Bliss shot through your body, sending shivers down your arched spine and to your legs, which was promptly followed by a pornographic moan. “Sh..Shimzu!~”

Upon hearing you finish, Kiyoko slowly pulled out the strap to provide you with some relief before taking it off, throwing it aside and attacking her pussy with her fingers - clearly, she had been left unsatisfied after being aroused by your messy, horny state.

You looked over at her and were simply unable to stifle a giggle. However, you weren’t the one laughing when you tried to stand up to walk over there and help her but then you realised you couldn’t feel your legs. “C’mere.” You commanded, seeming slightly less dominant since you were still panting from when she was railing you just a few seconds ago, “I’ll finish you off.”

Hitoka Yachi

she rarely ever gives and this was no exception

(well, by that I mean she is a bottom but when it comes to giving gifts and stuff she is extra af but that is a whole other headcanon)

in fact, she was actually the one who bought the strap

however, it was now you who inserting it into her

but you both like it that way!

bc she usually hates being on top since she’s always scared that she’ll hurt you or leave you unsatisfied

anyway, you both mutually agreed that you were the top - despite the fact that y’all only do it once every millennium-

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

You finished deciphering the instruction and managed to put the god-forsaken thing on - and the fact that you had little to no hand-to-eye coordination probably didn’t help. ( Throwback to that one time you momentarily pulled out and then when you tried to plug your fingers back in, you accidentally ended up aggressively poking Yachi’s labia.)

“Okay,” You looked up, biting your lip upon seeing Yachi in nothing but lingerie with the dim candle’s lit in the background, making her look heavenly. The character develop - you sighed, recalling the first time y’all had intercourse and she insisted the lights had to be complete off and her oversized shirt and thigh-high socks stayed on. Not that you had a problem with that - in fact, you found it quite charming - but it was just amazing to see how much more confidence she’s gained.

You shook your head in attempt to shake away all the off-topic thoughts, “Are you sure you want me to do this?” You inquired, eyes soft and exchanging a loving gaze with her. “I don’t want you to feel pressured into doing this.” Although, it was Yachi’s idea to invest in a strap-on but you’d rather be safe than sorry as she might’ve changed her mind since then.

Yachi nodded, her signature sweet yet awkward smile gracing her lip while she fidgeted with the lace on the edges of the red panties she wore. “Oh, yes. I’m sure! I-I’ll be sure to tell you if it’s too much though.” She stuttered, losing her train of thought at the sight of you wearing the article. A deep blush rushed to her cheeks and she tried to stifle a snicker, “Safe-word: ‘waffles’, right?”

Waffles; a parallel to the name of your dog - Pancakes - which Yachi thought was so cute and fun but you - for obvious reasons - felt uncomfortable with her, in any case, screaming your dogs name in bed. So, you changed the word to Waffles.

You hummed in agreement, sending her one last kind smile before a mischievous grin made it’s way onto your face. “Bend over.” You demanded, glancing down to look at the massive piece of shmeat erect on your vagina; you’d by lying if you said it didn’t make you at least the slightest bit uneasy - but you had to push through, for Yachi!

Saeko Tanaka

at this point, you were used to Saeko whipping out the weirdest shit and using it during intercourse

if anything, a strap-on was pretty vanilla and conventional compared to the other things Saeko has used with you

which include (but not limited to): a wooden spoon, a candle, a TV remote, an Xbox controller, a whisk, ice-cubes in the shape of people, a needle, lego brick(s), a sandal, a guitar, a broom, a lava-lamp, a ketchup bottle, a hairbrush, a straightener, multiple bottles of shampoo (since she only uses the tiny bottles that she steals from hotels), her gear stick, a D20 and a pack of instant noodles.

so obviously you were pleasantly surprised when Saeko actually went out and bought a real sex toy instead of just using one of her make-shift ones.

“Only the best for you, princess!”

oh, and this goes without saying, she’s a top

it’s not that you’re a bottom though because you are from it as you’ve attempted to top her on multiple occasions

but it just never goes your way so no matter how dominant and/or persistent you are, you always end up receiving

not that you have a problem with it but- when I say she goes hard, she goes hard

literally she’ll stop whatever she is going if you seem even remotely horny and as soon as you give her consent to go further, it’s game over for you, honey

also, she is very much an exhibitionist so she really doesn’t care if she’s being to loud while her brother/his friends are over

in short, when you saw that bright pink toy lying on her bed sheet especially for you - it didn’t take long for you to realise that you should probably pre-book a few days off from work because you won’t be able to walk for the next week-

✿ ✿ ✿ ✿ ✿

“Shut up, babe.” Saeko hissed at you, a evil smirk tugging at the corner of her lips, “They’re studying downstairs.”- not that she cared, she just enjoyed seeing you frustrated. So she couldn’t help but laugh at how much of a mess you were, sweat matting your hair to your forehead, your ass cheeks red from Saeko’s unmerciful palm, your leg twitching as you approached your orgasm and your mouth full of lewd moans being forced shut as Saeko insisted that you quiet down.

Saeko leaned in to whisper suggestive threats into your ear, “If I hear another sound leave that pretty little mouth of your’s, you’ll be punished later.” The tingle of her hot breath against your skin and the implications of what she said just aroused you even more, forcing you to repress your whines..for now.

Honestly, you seriously didn’t know if you could do it as surely, Saeko wasn’t aware of how differently it hit when she used a proper toy - or perhaps she just felt that cruel today. The optimum amount of pleasure you thought she was capable of bringing you was somehow doubled due to the mix of factors: her using a real toy designed to endue pleasure, the impressive balance of attention between your clit and ass, her erotic threats and the fact she was seriously going feral back there.

You were already close but her harsh groping of your ass, licking her fingers to provide the slightest bit of lubricant before sticking 3 digits straight into your strained, dripping cunt while her other hand tightened it’s grip on the back of your neck - all that was enough to tip you over the edge.

You thought you’d be able to ask for permission or at least give a warning before you came but your throbbing clit along with Saeko’s tip violently slamming against your g-spot left you unable to do so, while you attempt sounded a bit like, “I’m gonna- I-” followed by an involuntary, loud moan.

“Don’t you dare-” Saeko snapped teasingly, but obviously unprepared for how loud your moan would actually be - so rather than covering your mouth with her hand, for her own entertainment she slammed into your g-spot once more, this time with more force - leading to you choking on your own noise.

Saeko was used to leaving you out of breath and tired, so while your lay there with your ass up, trying to catch your breath; she took this opportunity to take off the strap (but left it dangling out your pussy since she wasn’t sure if you wanted her to take it out or not) and went to get some aloe-vera for your bright red ass and dark purple bruises on your neck.

“Geez, your pretty lil’ pussy could barely handle that. Maybe we should stick to the ketchup bottles.” She joked, squirting the aloe-vera onto her hands and gently gliding her hands across your lower back.

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lumienyx · 3 years

Note

Writing prompt: “Your magic makes me feel safe.” for Handers <3

Come Morning Light

Pairing: Anders/Male Hawke | Rating: T | Word Count: 1827

Summary: "Fear," Hawke said, "and Despair. I think. They won't leave me alone. I can't... everybody dies. Keeps dying. And I can't do shit about it. I never can. You..." Hawke couldn't quite bring himself to say it. Couldn't share the pain of it—he never could—and as always, Anders didn't pressure him.

"Love, it's going to be all right," Anders promised instead, and Hawke couldn't pretend to believe him. Not now. Not as he was. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."

But not for long.

Not forever, because Anders could never promise him that.

TW: possible suicidal ideation

A/N: I’m so sorry :”) Just. Please forgive me. It all started bc I thought well, there’s tons of fics with Hawke comforting Anders but not enough of fics with it the other way around so why not write something like this BUT I DIDN’T ANTICIPATE SO MUCH ANGST :0 (with a happy-ish ending tho!!) I hope you still likey... meow >.>

🎶 Safe and Sound — Sam Tsui & Kurt Hugo Schneider

Read on AO3 or below the cut!

@dadrunkwriting

In the Fade tonight, Hawke watched Bethy's sweet, radiant smile turn into a twisted grimace the moment the monster's Blight-rotten hand closed around her throat.

His own throat was scraped raw from silent screams he never heard but felt them—visceral, and raw, and painful, tearing through his entire being as he stood there, watching. Helpless. Paralyzed with terror. Gulping down the tears that kept on falling.

In the Fade tonight, Hawke couldn't save Carver from the Blight. Lost in the darkness of the deepest roads underground, he called for Anders who was nowhere to be found. He carried his brother through red fog and over mires of darkspawn corpses, searching for Grey Wardens and only finding bones, lifeless bodies, and decay. He fell to his knees and held Carver close, rocking back and forth like he used to, back when he was the all-grown-up child lulling the twins to sleep with a song barely discernable against their insistent crying.

Carver wasn't crying now. Simply smiling, the smile a fragile, broken thing, trembling lips tinged with blood and framed by black veins spread out all over his face, over his skin, pulsing with the lullaby of death.

Garrett couldn't breathe when Carver took his final breath, suffocated by sobs that tore through his chest painfully enough to rival the excruciatingly constricting thump-thump of his racing heart.

It wasn't supposed to happen this way.

Was it?

It couldn't be.

"This isn't—" Hawke tried.

Tried and failed to will the vision away and succeeded only in summoning a more recent horror.

"...real."

In the Fade tonight, his mother stood before him on quivering knees, bones showing through knit-together skin, dusty, and pale, and bloodied.

"Garrett," she—it creaked, staggering closer as Hawke reeled away, his back hitting the cold stone wall of the tomb they now stood in, "my little, weak boy," the space getting smaller and smaller as the thing-that-was-not-his-mother crumpled to its knees and continued its journey towards him, crawling now through a floor littered with detached limbs and torn entrails, "such a disappointment."

"Stop."

"Such a waste."

"Please—" There was no way out. Only darkness. Only it. "Stop—"

"I never loved you."

"STOP!"

Hawke fought through the numbness and forced his mana outwards in a burst of blinding electricity, banishing the apparition, toppling the walls, submerging the darkness in blinding white—

Only to come face to face with Anders' blank expression and empty eyes. Blinking measured, steady. Back straight as it never was, posture stiff and still, no hint of Anders' usual fidgeting.

"Hawke." A voice so perfectly emotionless. But still his. "I did tell you to kill me. If they'd ever make me Tranquil."

Hawke's hands shook, and his legs were all but giving out. With tremendous effort, he took a few steps back—and there was everywhere and anywhere to run in the spacious meadow that he recognized as the first place he and Anders had ever found themselves alone together, all those years back when tentative friendship simmered with something that turned out to be so much more. That turned out to be everything—

And in the Fade tonight, Hawke's everything was taken away.

The few steps he managed made no difference, and Anders was still there, so close and yet the furthest distance away, so familiar and yet a stranger that wouldn't—couldn't hear Hawke's whispered,

"Love, please."

"But I have no desire to die." Not-Anders went on, staring at his hands with a slight frown. Run, run, run, Hawke's mind screamed, stay, stay, STAY, the Fade seemed to command. "Hawke." Anders—Not-Anders looked up at Garrett, gaze sparking with the barest sheen of confusion. Hawke couldn't turn away, even when he did. The sunburst, and cloudy eyes, and Anders' chest pierced with the sharp end of Hawke's staff were right there before him no matter where he turned, no matter where he tried to run. "Why would you kill me?"

"No." Running was pointless. Closing his eyes changed nothing. Screaming only made Anders' voice louder, only made blankly spoken words of blame a roar of thunder in his mind, all-encompassing and damning. "NO!"

I would never.

"But you did."

This isn't real.

"It will be."

I'll keep you safe.

"Just like you did everyone else?"

STOP!

"Stop!" Hawke screamed.

"Stop—" the scream died in his throat as he awoke, chest heaving with rasping breaths, his whole body shivering from much more than the chill of sweat.

Hawke stumbled out of bed, not quite making it to the window and instead slumping to the floor and curling into himself, arms embracing his knees as he tried, and failed, and tried, and failed again to take a deeper breath. To blink the tears away, to cease the pathetic whimpers escaping his throat. Evidence of his weakness. The result of the misery he himself caused. Because he could have been faster, and he should have been stronger, and then he wouldn't have to carry the blame, and the fear, and the loneliness.

It took him a while to blink away those tears—and the remnants of the visions that still clawed at his mind through the Veil.

It took him a longer while to see it—the room, his and Anders' room. The faintest rays of burgeoning morning light trickling through the window. Not quite safe—never safe, in this city ripe with blood and subjugation—but quiet. Peaceful.

It took a yet longer while to hear the voice whispering words of comfort in his ear. To feel the hands rubbing his back and massaging his arms from behind, to feel the gentle pull of Anders' mana, the familiar energy of it weaving in coils of humming warmth to untangle the ragged chaos of Hawke's own.

"It was just a dream, love."

"I'm here."

"Everything's going to be all right."

But...

Barely anything was, at this point.

Hawke stayed silent, focusing on his breathing, forcing the fear that gripped him still, tight as a vice, to quell. Hesitant, he craned his neck to get a glimpse of his lover, and only the sight of a forehead free of the brand and marred only by frown lines made him sigh in relief.

Safe.

Alive.

Here.

(For now.)

"I'm sorry."

"There's no need to apologize, love."

"This is, what, the third time tonight?"

Anders hugged him tighter, his magic warm, so warm, so close. So soft as it hummed against Hawke's skin that he allowed himself to melt into the embrace, just a little.

"It doesn't matter."

"Doesn't it?" Hawke snapped. "I can't—I'm a fucking mess, Anders."

"So?"

"So..." Hawke sighed, closed his eyes, then quickly opened them when the darkness yielded to more flashes of the nightmare. Of Anders not quite dead, yet gone. "So nothing."

"Love?"

"Fear," Hawke said, "and Despair. I think. They won't leave me alone. I can't... everybody dies. Keeps dying. And I can't do shit about it. I never can. You..." Hawke couldn't quite bring himself to say it. Couldn't share the pain of it—he never could—and as always, Anders didn't pressure him.

"Love, it's going to be all right," Anders promised instead, and Hawke couldn't pretend to believe him. Not now. Not as he was. "I'm not going anywhere. I'm here."

But not for long.

Not forever, because Anders could never promise him that.

Because Hawke couldn't save him, just like he couldn't the rest of his family. Because even with Carver alive and with the Wardens, it's the younger Hawke set to die first because of the slow but unrelenting corruption. Because Garrett would likely lose Anders to the Taint sooner than to any templar's cruelty.

There was nothing he could do about it.

No more books left in his or any blasted libraries in this Maker-forsaken city to seek answers from.

No Tevene scholars, or Avvar nomads, or immortal Warden magi offering any answers that didn't involve blood magic and violent sacrifice.

No miracles, no hope.

He was so tense, all over, muscles locked in knots and old wounds tugging at his skin with phantom pains. The wide scar on his chest, from the Arishok's blade, seemed to prickle, and Hawke caught himself wondering, for the split flash of a second, if it would have been best, had he never survived that duel.

(Why do you get to live and I don't, Bethy had accused him in an earlier dream. He could come up with no reason good enough, only pathetic pleas to stop and ever more pathetic sobs when he failed to escape the twisted dreamscape.)

He was so fucking weak, and yet—

The tension did slip from his limbs, bit by bit, and the darker thoughts lightened as Anders began spinning a story, wild, and exciting, and bit ridiculous, as all his stories of his time adventuring with Hawke's cousin usually were. It was a familiar one, about Amell's disastrous attempt to tame an injured dragonling, much to Anders' annoyance. Two days and three nights spent healing it and training it to eat from Amell's hand without biting it off—and still, it ended up crying for and summoning its mother, much to Anders' total exasperation.

Anders' mana flared and sizzled whenever he got riled up, and Hawke couldn't help but press closer to him, all but using Anders' chest as a pillow and his mana as a blanket as they ended up lying on the floor, entangled, the bed and sleep forgotten for the while.

Tears were forgotten, too, as Anders' fervent complaining about his best friend's lack of brain matter inevitably made Hawke laugh.

Anders stopped in his tracks, a flash of surprise on his face, then promptly captured his smile with a kiss, soft and lingering. The sweetness of it a blissful reprieve from the crippling fear.

"Feeling better, love?" Anders murmured against Hawke's lips.

"Mm." Hawke nuzzled into his neck, trying to get as close as possible to the comforting warmth that was Anders' magic, that was Anders himself. "You magic—it makes me feel safe."

Another flare of the tingling heat of creationism followed the admission, as did another kiss, a gentle press of lips to the top of Hawke's head.

"You are safe," Anders said, and shallow as Garrett's smile still was, he found it in himself to pretend to believe him this time. He pressed feather-light kisses against Anders' neck, feeling the heartbeat there, breathing in the familiar scent of elfroot and the sharp, lyrium-like tang of the Fade.

Real.

Alive.

Here.

"We both are," Anders whispered.

Hawke chuckled darkly. "For now."

Anders carded a hand through Hawke's hair. Tender, comforting. "For now," he echoed, because Anders couldn't promise him forever.

But morning came, and so did yet another day with Anders beside him, both of them free still in a city of tightening chains.

And Maker damn it all, Hawke would fight for and cherish however long they'd get to have.

Thank you for the read💙 Feedback is very much appreciated :3

#dadwc #ser writes #handers #anders #male hawke #garrett hawke #m!handers #dragon age #fanfiction

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pink-imagines · 4 years

Text

warm smile

request: i noticed that you don't have a lot of sero stuff on your masterlist! so maybe, if you would so kindly, write a little drabble about sero kind of teasing the reader about their height as a way of flirting? i've noticed a lot of people do that and i feel like he would too! and then kind of ending it with reader admitting she's insecure about it and him saying it's cute?? thank you!

a/n: this is kinda short bc i ran out of inspiration but i hope this is okay!

warnings: crying, low self confidence and stuff

masterlist

requesting rules

You’ve spent most of your life as the “designated short friend”, as you’ve always been the shortest in your friend group. Not even when you got into UA, an accomplishment in itself, did your title change. Did you have a Napoleon complex - meaning that you were so insecure about your height that it fueled your anger? No most likely not. Did your height affect your insecurities? Yes definitely, but you’d never show it. Every time someone would tease you about it you’d take it for what it was, a joke, but that didn’t make it any less embarrassing for you. How could you be a hero if most children were taller than you? Quirk or not, how could you save anyone? The fake confidence you wore proudly when you started at UA was starting to fade as your relationships with the other students grew. You wanted to tell them about your doubts but you felt like no one would listen. Being short isn’t really something to be sad about, at least that’s what most people had told you. You were “fun-sized” and “cute”, but you weren’t independant - which is what you wanted.

“Good morning, shortie!”, Hanta wore a grin as he approached you in the kitchen dorm, preparing himself some breakfast. “How’s the weather up there this morning?”, you asked and took a sip of your coffee. He only let out a chuckle as he kept making his food. You wondered if he ever got ashamed of his height. Hanta was of pretty average height, probably around 175cm, and how you wished you could be like that. He was one of the few that kept teasing you about your height, of course he always kept it light hearted and never meant anything bad. Hanta was always like that, trying to get you to smile - and while he might tease you to do so he never wanted to see you hurt. Maybe that’s why you had taken a liking to him - not that you’d ever tell him that. “Did you sleep alright?”, Hanta asked out of the blue. “Just fine. How about you?”, you smiled behind your cup. “Like usual, slept like a rock.”, he looked over at you with a smile, “You look so tiny when you sit like that.” He was pointing out the fact that you were sitting on the counter and your cheeks immediately flushed. You might have thought that the height increase you’d get from sitting up there would make you look taller... but then you probably shouldn’t be dangling your feet like you were. “You know one of those salt shakers that’s shaped like a person?”, he laughed. “Oh, stop it!”, you hit his shoulder lightly and stared down into your cup. “Good morning!”, Momo said as she walked into the kitchen. “What are we laughing about?”, Kirishima followed her shortly after. Hanta told him about you looking like a tiny salt shaker while you simply stared down into your empty mug. Kirishima laughed like he always did and then moved onto making a protein shake. Hanta looked over at you again with a sweet smile, making butterflies swarm in your stomach. Momo snickered and you gave her a sour look when she motioned that your face was red. Your look only made her giggle more. Some people knew of your crush on him, though you had made them promise not to tell him.

Throughout the day Hanta stuck to your side, which made the day just a bit better. It was such a cheesy thing to say but his precense around you made you feel warm and nice. Well, your day was nice until you saw Neito Monoma walking towards you in the hallway. You were having a conversation with Hanta about the homework you had just gotten in your english class when he walked past. “Every time I see you’re still here I get surprised.”, he had stopped in front of you, “I mean how’s it possible that someone of your... stature... could be a hero?” “Can you please leave me alone? I’ve never done anything to you.”, you sighed. “I’m starting to think that’s because you can’t reach me.”, he laughed, “Maybe you should try stilts.” “Leave her alone, Monoma.”, Itzuka Kendo said and started to drag the boy away, “Sorry about that, Y/L/N. He’s really just jealous!” You nodded at her and watched her take Monoma away, scolding him as she walked. Hanta put a hand on your shoulder, making you look over at him. “Don’t bother with him, okay?”, he said softly. “Yeah, I don’t-”, you choked on your words as you felt tears starting to form in your eyes, “Sorry, I have to go...” Before Hanta could say another word you ran over to the nearest bathroom. No way you’d let him see you cry! You weren’t weak like Monoma had said! As soon as you entered the bathroom you burst into tears and held yourself up by leaning on the sink. Luckily, no one else was in there since classes were just about to start.

For a while you silently sobbed and let it slowly fade into whimpers, drying away your tears with the napkins you were supposed to use after you’d wash your hands. Once you were feeling a bit better you washed your face and tried to think of an excuse for when you got late to the lesson. Outside the bathroom door you saw Hanta leaning against the wall. You immediately looked down and tried to cover your face. “Why are you still here?”, you hated the way your voice sounded so broken. “Here.”, he walked up to you and handed you your favorite candy. “How did you-” “I listen.”, he shrugged, “... I told Aizawa that you went to the nurse’s office and that I’d be going with you, so you don’t have to worry about class.” “Thanks... what did you tell him? I just want to make sure that I don’t say something else later.” “I told him you had puked.” “Hanta!”, you looked up at him with bewildered eyes. “What? It was the first thing I could think of!”, he held his hands up in the air and wore a grin on his face, “Besides, it’s better than saying you were crying in the bathroom.” “I guess you’re right...”, you let out a chuckle. “... thanks.” “No problem... do you wanna talk about it?”, he asked and you nodded, “C’mon let’s go to the dorms before anyone sees us.”

The two of you walked in silence, there wasn’t much to say. Hanta had grabbed your hand and was leading you to the dorms, the only thing you could focus on was trying to control your heartbeat - which was beating out of your chest at the moment. When you arrived there he sat you down on the livingroom couch and then sat down next to you. “What’s up? Has he been bothering you for a long time?”, he asked softly. “Well... yeah, kind of.”, you said and tried your hardest to keep the tears from coming again, “I know he’s nothing to worry about but when someone hits you at your weakest points it’s hard to ignore it.” “You’re insecure about your height?”, Hanta raised his eyebrows slightly as you nodded, “Why?” “... like he said, how could I ever become a hero if I look this fragile? Who would depend on someone who can’t even reach the top shelf?”, you sighed and kept looking down at your hands. “I mean... you probably wouldn’t be the best hero to call if you needed to save a cat in a tree.”, he said and made you chuckle, “That doesn’t mean that you’re not powerful, though... and I kind of think that your height is... well...” You looked up at him, seeing his cheeks tinted pink as well as his ears. “Is what?”, you asked. “... well, it’s cute... and I know you said you wanted to be independent but it kind of makes me want to protect you in a way.”, now it was his turn to avoid your eyes, “So, while I don’t think you’re weak, I’d be there for you in all the ways you need help... like reaching the top shelf.” When you didn’t answer for a while he looked over at you and, unbeknownst to you, you had started tearing up. “Oh no! I’m sorry, that’s probably not what you wanted to hear right now!”, he said and apologiesed prefusely. “Huh?”, you wiped away your tears, “No, no, no... it’s just that no one’s ever treated that as seriously as you did... they usually just say that I’m ‘funsized’ and move on... so, thank you.” “Really?”, he huffed and was about to say something else when you realized. “So you think I’m cute?”, you smiled widely at his flustered expression. “I mean...”, he laughed nervously, “... yeah. Is that bad?” “No not really... I think you’re cute too.”, you smiled. The two of you looked at each other for a while with warm smiles and flustered faces, the tension was so thick that you could slice it with a knife. You noticed that he moved a bit closer, and so did you. He reached out to put his hand on top of yours - but you were suddenly interrupted by someone coming in through the doors. “Hey! Stay away from her she puked! You can’t be sick tomorrow we’re supposed to have our presentation!”, Denki yelled at Hanta. You immediately sat on the opposite end of the couch from him, moving as far away as possible and hid your red face in your hands. “Why are you still up Y/N? You should be resting!”, Momo said as she came in behind Denki, “Here, let me help you to your dorm.” As you were led away by Momo you looked back at Hanta, whom was getting scolded by Denki for being too close to you. He looked over at you with a soft smile and waved, as if he wasn’t about to get beat up by his classmate and as if it wasn’t your fault. You waved back before tearing your eyes away from him and walking up the stairs to the dorms. Things were about to change.

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snickiebear · 3 years

Note

If this inspires anything in you, and if you have the time to write it, I hope we can see how you respond to the following prompt:

Kakashi is the god Sakura has to eat and kill.

Lordt help us!

HAHAHAHA MITTENS!! this is literally one of the best prompts ever. thank you SO MUCH!!

i literally had to sit down and outline this so make sure i gave it justice LMAO also, did a little research on japanese kami! which is so interesting btw :))

side note! this is also on ao3 bc i really, really loved it

xiv.

It begins with a girl (doesn’t it always?). A girl made woman who is nothing but smiles and laughter, unfiltered sunshine and the smell of flowers on the warm breeze.

She is good, she is brave, she is kind.

And she grows, that girl made woman, she grows and her eyes open to the world around her. To the hatred of the mortal, to the disease of the gods.

She holds her mother close as she dies in her arms, her father off to war.

They never find his body.

She is the only survivor of her village, war and wreckage in her wake.

This woman made once of sweet sighs and feather light touches learns to survive, learns to harden herself against the world, to bare her teeth and not her throat, to love the scars and hard muscle of her once too soft body.

She meets a woman with too ancient eyes for a face so young and the woman smiles at her, it is a horrible, wretched look. It is a beautiful, timeless look. “Oh, you.” She murmurs, voice old and young, standing slowly. “You’ll do just fine.”

And the girl made woman bares her teeth in a smile, a warning, tilting her head to the side, “Oh? And what shall I do just fine?”

The woman assesses her, amber eyes shining with something cruel, “You will be my avenger, girl.”

And the girl made woman, well, she rather likes the sound of that.

xxiii.

She sees him for the first time at the market, it’s a cloudy day, the streets full of people and the carts slowly selling out of the limited goods available.

The very land has been dying for years now. The mortals do not know it, but Sakura does. Less and less crops, dying plants, brain soil.

The thought itself brings a slight smile of fondness to her face.

But Sakura sees him for the first time at the market, and she knows who he is, what he is. She was under Tsunade’s tutelage for years. Sakura knows a god, a kami, when she sees one, feels one.

So, she walks, shoulders back, spine straight, loose and fluidly until her boot purposely catches on a crack in the cobblestoned road and she’s airborne with a sharp gasp—

Until two strong hands wrap around her forearms, steadying her gently. Sakura looks up, face flushed and eyes wide as she makes eye contact with the Shinigami, who looks at her in concern.

The god takes the form of a tall, broadly shouldered man with a mess of gray hair. Onyx eyes stare at her and they are so black she can see her reflection. Sakura fights the full body shudder that threatens to overtake her.

She has stared into the eyes of a dying god before. Staring into a living one’s should be no different.

“Are you okay?” He asks and his voice rumbles through her, her heart pounding without her consent.

“Yes,” She breathes and offers a shy but sweet smile, slowly taking a step back. He lets his hands drop, fingers grazing her bare skin. She ignores the goosebumps that erupt in his wake. “Thank you very much…”

“Hatake Kakashi,” The liar says, eyes crinkling from over his mask. “And you are?”

“Haruno Sakura,” She replies easily, tucking her hair behind her ear. The Shinigami holds out her basket of goods and she takes it, brushing her fingers against his deliberately, calculatingly.

The wretched kami gives her another eye crinkle, taking a step back himself, “Aa, a pleasure then, Haruno-san.”

Forcing a blush, Sakura waves off the honorific, “Please, just Sakura.”

“Then I am simply Kakashi,” And with a duck of his head, the fraud turns and ambles away.

Sakura turns also, disappearing into the crowd of much too skinny humans, too poor, too stupid. She allows herself to grin, wide and unfiltered, and with teeth. And that scaled, clawed, fanged thing inside her peeks its eye open and purrs.

xvi.

Tsunade— or at least that is what she wants Sakura to call her — takes a long swig from her jug and cackles to herself. “I was right when I picked you, you know.”

Sakura glances up from her scroll of poisons, “You still have yet to tell me why it took only one look to think I can do whatever avenging you want done.”

Swirling the liquid in the jug once more, Tsunade chuckles, “Call it intuition, yeah?”

She huffs, snapping the scroll shut and stealing the jug from her master, taking a long drink herself. It is horribly bitter and disgustingly tart, and Tsunade laughs herself hoarse at the look on Sakura’s face.

“You’re going to do great, mighty, quiet things.” Tsunade says after a long silence. Sakura looks at her curiously. “You will bring war upon earth, disrupt the very heavens. Sweet child, you only know a taste of the power you could hold.”

And Sakura, well, she’s been alone since she was eight years old and surrounded by disease ridden corpses, she’s stolen and cheated and bartered her way through survival. She knows her way around a knife, a piece of glass, a sharp rock.

She has spilt blood just to eat for the night.

“You’ll teach me,” It is not a question.

That cruel, beautiful smile unfurls on her master’s face, “Of course, Avenger. Tell me what you want to know.”

“Everything.” Sakura breathes, demands, pleads.

A soft, aching laugh. “Very well, come here and listen closely.”

And Sakura is a clever girl made woman, she listens to everything Tsunade says, and everything she does not.

So, when Tsunade leaves her alone for the night, Sakura stares at the ceiling of the cheap Inn they are staying in and allows herself to smirk.

xxiii.

She sees him every time she goes to the market after that. He crinkles his eyes at her with a, “Good morning, Sakura-san.”

And in response Sakura blushes and murmurs a sweet, “Hello Kakashi-san.”

It goes like this for weeks until he changes their routine, leaning against one of the carts, tossing an apple into the air. There is only one farmer who can now produce apples, and even then the fruit is weak, no longer crispy and juicy.

The very land, the very life of this village is being drained away. Just as the other villages Sakura has traveled through. There will always be consequences to her actions, she supposes.

Kakashi tosses her the apple and Sakura makes sure to fumble with it before clutching it close to her chest, a teasing smile on her lips, “Kakashi-san, this is new.”

“Mah,” He hums, shrugging, “Just didn’t want you to miss out on your usual, is all.”

Sakura smiles, tucking the apple into her basket, the usual contents dwindled down to a simple jar of jam, a measly loaf of bread, and now the apple. She would need to make this quick and move towns soon.

“Say, would you like to come to lunch with me?” It’s a shot in the dark but she’s hoping that Tsunade was right when she said Sakura was infuriatingly charming. “I understand if you would not like—"

Kakashi cuts her off with a wave of his hand and a friendly look in his eye. Sakura wonders, idly, what he would taste like freshly baked and seasoned. “I am not one to turn down free food, of course.”

She laughs, a light and tittering thing and bares her throat the slightest bit before looping arms with him, “I shall lead the way then.”

Luckily, she has some dried meat and left over vegetables to make something decent and she smiles as him as she sits.

“You’re a healer.” Is what he says, eyeing the herbs and the bandages she had left out.

Sakura shrugs, “I try to lessen pain,” It is one of the many things Tsunade had left her.

He looks at her as if she is something new and so very interesting and she knows what he sees. A thing of life, a thing of preservation, has invited a creature of death, a creature of destruction into its domain, and allows that dark creature to live there.

It is what she wants him to see. Sakura smiles with teeth and she knows he does not see the wolf that sits in front of him.

xvi.

“Dodge!” Tsunade barks harshly and Sakura just barely avoids a direct hit, her skin still burning from the way the air sizzles from her master’s blow.

Sakura twists and flips backwards to gain some space between them, thighs quaking and sweat pouring as she pants, chest heaving. “I fucking am!” She bites back.

“Do it faster.” And then Tsunade is in her space, uppercutting and a blow to her stomach, sending Sakura flying into the corpse of trees behind them.

But Sakura is used being beaten down and she snarls loudly, landing on all fours, fingers digging deep into the ground before she lunges upwards, narrowing avoiding Tsunade’s next hit before spinning horizontally and lashing out with her foot.

And for the first time, Sakura lands a hit on Tsunade; sending her stumbling back, golden blood bleeding down her face.

She lands, gasping for breath, knees collapsing out from under her as she stares wide eyed as her master wipes blood and sweat from her face with the back of her hand. Her amber eyes sharpen to knife points as she grins, feral and oh so wild, “Very good, Sakura. Now we’re making progress.”

Despite her exhaustion, Sakura smirks, tasting blood and salt and victory. “Think you can handle more, old lady?”

“Don’t push your luck, brat.” Tsunade smirks, stalking towards Sakura to pull her up, “Now let me see that jaw of yours. And the stomach, the hell did I tell you about the sto-“

“I know,” She snaps, rolling her eyes as her body throbs something fierce. She allows herself the weakness of leaning into Tsunade’s as they trudge back to their small cottage. “I’ll do better.”

“Good.” They leave it at that. Then, “That was a good hit, my pupil.”

And Sakura, well, she’s feeling indulgent, so she smiles, a slight twitch of the lips as she murmurs, “Thank you, shishou.”

xxiv.

She finds him at the usual spot, draped over a branch like a limp curtain, book in hand. Sakura is still not quite over the fact that the death god reads awfully written porn, but at this point in her life, nothing can truly shock her.

Sakura is well past expectations.

Hiking up her pants, she climbs up the tree and to the branch he’s lounging on, straddling it so her back is to the trunk. Kakashi makes a curious noise when she pulls out her book from the waistline of her pants, “I never took you as an Icha Icha reader, Sakura-chan.”

Peering over the top of her book, Sakura quirks a brow, “If you can read porn, so can I.” A pause as she turns the page, “Plus you’re reading Paradise, I’m reading Violence. Two very different pieces of literature.”

What she will not tell him is that Tsunade taught her how to read with these books, she’s memorized every page, paragraph, and line written.

“You wound me so,” He sighs, going back to his book.

Comfortable silence descends upon them and the only sounds are of nature and the rustle of paper. Time passes and she cannot help the slight twitch of her lips whenever Kakashi giggles at a certain part. It is nice, this quiet.

But she knows it will not last. She will not allow it.

And like an omen, low rumbling of thunder rolls through their quiet, small droplets landing on her hand before the rain steadily picks up. Sakura snaps the book shut and shimmies down the tree, Kakashi landing soundly next to her.

“My place?” She asks, though she knows the answer.

Kakashi intertwines their hands, gently and slowly, his hand encompassing her own as he looks at her, dark eyes reflecting the sky as lightning strikes. Something hot pools deep in her belly when she makes eye contact with him.

And she knows. She knows that she has him.

They stand in her small cottage, dripping and studying each other before they move as one, ripping at each other’s clothes, all lips, teeth, and tongue.

She claws at his back when he thrusts into her, rough and unyielding. The rain pounds outside as her back arches and he groans deep and rasping.

He falls asleep, his face pressed into the crook of her neck and Sakura allows herself to smirk, the taste of glory on her tongue once more.

xiv.

Sakura glowers and bares her teeth at the woman, “You still haven’t fuckin’ told me what we’re supposed to be doing.”

Truly, the only reason why Sakura is even here is because of the free food and shelter. She is well aware that nothing is free in this world, Sakura has learned that the hard way.

The woman tilts her head, studying keenly and Sakura rears her head in a snarl. But the woman’s lips pick up at the corner, “What’s your name girl?”

“Sakura.” She bites out, fingers curling into fists. Glancing around the tavern, she notes the exits, the windows, the people who could be an issue. Then again, she’s sitting across the biggest threat in the room. “And yours?”

The woman hums, “Call me Tsunade.”

“And what am I supposed to be doing here?” She grounds out. Sakura nearly bites the woman when two strong hands clamp down on her shoulders, the woman’s face inches from her own.

“You are the catalyst, girl. The commination that will teach the world the very meaning of power.” Sakura’s eyes sharpen at the last word and Tsunade nods. “You like that, hm? I will teach you then, Sakura. And you will enact my vengeance on the heavens itself.”

Sakura stares, tension slowly melting from her body as she stares at this woman, at this savior. And she thinks, she remembers how cold her mother’s body was, the look of grief her father wore when he left.

She remembers tripping over the bodies of friends, of neighbors, half coherent and sickly.

Looking at Tsunade, Sakura licks her lips, “And what will you teach me?”

“How to turn that rage into a dagger and slit gods’ throats with it.” The woman purrs and Sakura smiles.

xxiv.

She wakes to a freezing cold chest to her back and puffs of air on her neck, just as she has since that night.

It is exactly as Tsunade said it would be; fishing. Lure, hook, and reel.

Sakura lets herself smile with teeth, a smug and sharp thing before she slowly extracts herself from the tangle of limbs they had become. The Shinigami slumbers in her bed, wrapped in her blankets.

Leaning against the doorframe with crossed arms, she looks at the god who she has fallen in love with. He loves her with just as much ferocity, she knows. And despite it all, she finds herself not quite hesitating when she goes to dig through her cabinets, finding the small nine pedaled flower. It once had ten and after this morning it will only have eight.

It is as if sinking into a familiar skin as she picks one of the petals, tucking the flower back where it was. Humming under her breath, Sakura grounds the petal in a small bowl before brewing some tea, sprinkling the powder into it.

The Shinigami’s arms snake around her waist, kissing her temple as he rumbles, “Good morning.”

Sakura turns her head to smile at him, offering the tea.

The scaled, clawed, fanged thing within her has its ugly maw open, head throw back as it cackles and howls.

xviii.

“Listen brat,” Tsunade says, snapping open a scroll.

“I’ve already read that,” Sakura interjects, her brows raising. “You know that.”

Tsunade slaps the back of her head, “When I say listen, I mean it.” She shoves the scroll into Sakura’s lap before striding towards a chest that had not been there before. “Come here.”

Slowly, Sakura makes her way towards the opened chest and peeks inside. She drops the scroll, “Is-is that-”

“Weapons to kill the divine,” Tsunade finishes for her, nodding. “Find one you like.”

Sakura swallows harshly as she kneels down and digs through the weapons, careful of every sharp point, as she palms a knife, a curved dagger with a golden blade. “This one.” She whispers, looking up to her master.

Tsunade nods in approval. “There are few ways to kill a kami.” She holds out one finger, “One, with an ichor dipped weapon.” A second finger. “Two, a very particular poison.”

Picking up the scroll, Sakura glances down the list before landing on one flower, “Kami koroshi.”

“That’s right.” Tsunade nods, “And do you know what to do with it?”

Sakura stands, flipping the dagger in her hand. It feels like coming home, having a blade at her side, bathing in the intimately dangerous knowledge of how to bring about the destruction of the heavens.

“Crush it for indigestion.”

xxiii.

Her stomach aches with laughter, clutching at her sides as she cramps and chokes on her tears. “An-and then wha-what happened?” She manages to get out as Kakashi laughs himself, leaning against the wall, a jug of liquor in hand.

He passes it to her and Sakura takes a long drink, reminiscing of a time similar to this.

“Then I told him, fuck off you little shit—" Kakashi wheezes and Sakura shouts with laughter, curling over as she gasps for breath. “And go blow som-someone else!”

They both dissolve into giggles and howls, Kakashi joining her on the floor. Sakura’s panting by the time she catches her breath, wiping tears from her face, and when she looks over Kakashi is not much better.

Brushing hair from his face, she points skyward, the stars winking down at him. “Hey Kakashi,” She asks, drunk off her ass and still giggly. “Where do you think we go when we die?”

Silence meets her question, and she sluggishly looks to the side to find him watching her, eyes soft and so full of— of—

“You’ll go somewhere safe,” He says softly. “Somewhere beautiful.”

“Yeah?” She mumbles, eyes dropping closed.

“I’ll make sure of it.” Is the last thing she hears before the dark overtakes her.

xix.

Tsunade sits across from her, laughing as she takes another long drink from her jug and sets it down heavily.

Sakura simply watches, leaning back in her chair, eyes cold and head tilted as her master coughs once, twice, three times.

Her arms begin to lose its color, being paler and paler and Tsunade watches with detached interest before laughing. She looks to Sakura, “Took you long enough, you fuckin’ brat.”

Snorting, Sakura stands, dagger in hand as Tsunade’s body begins to writhe, her breathes coming quick and uneven.

She yanks her master’s hair back, exposing her throat and slitting it in a single slide, so deep that she knicks bone, golden blood spraying.

The body drops forward, ichor pooling on the table and dripping onto the floor. Sakura sighs, rubbing the back of her neck as she kneels down to look into Tsunade’s lifeless eyes, “I will take it from here, Shishou.”

The promise rings out into the silence and Sakura revels in it.

xxiv.

Kakashi takes a sip of the tea as they both sit down, Sakura across from him. She takes a bite from the rest of their bread, watching him keenly.

He jerks suddenly, choking and hacking as he looks to her in horror and alarm. “You—"

“Me.” She confirms easily, getting up, dagger in hand.

The Shinigami roars and pushes the table away from himself and into the wall, Sakura ducks, the wood barely grazing her head before she lunges.

His already pale skin grays some more as he attempts to fight her off. She laughs at him, holding him down with one hand, knees on either side of his hips. And in the morning light, her dagger glints like a heaven sent prayer.

She plunges the blade into his head and drags it down his breast, carving him open as the kami screams and screams and screams.

Sakura feels his life bleed out from him under her hand. It is quiet once more.

And the girl made woman smiles, all bloodied teeth and gold stained hands. "And here we are." she whispers, caressing the corpse's cheek, reveling in her quiet victory. "Divinity dies at my wretched hands once again."

xvii.

“Shishou,” She begins, treading carefully. Her teacher looks at her in question, quirking up a brow. “Why were you outcasted from the other Kami?”

Tsunade— or more commonly known as Inari, Goddess of Everything Important, of the very Life— laughs and it is a hollow sound. “Oh, darling girl,” She says, a bland smile on her face. “Even gods hunger for power."

xiv.

Sakura sits, a feast laid out in front of her, a goblet of wine in her hand as she smiles, eyes flashing with something predatory.

Picking up her fork, Sakura spears into the first bit of meat, taking a bite and moaning at the way it melts in her mouth, the way the spices and flavors all blend.

She sips at her wine, running her tongue over her teeth before she laughs, throwing her head back and cackles at it all, with it all. Oh, she is a god killer, she is god taught and god fucked and she will be the one to rule them all.

Sakura sits, a feast laid in front of her, and eats the Shinigami’s flesh, one bite at a time until she can feel the power in her roar.

xix.

The corpse still sits at the table as Sakura rummages through the shit Tsunade had left behind, finding a thick envelope sealed in wax. Prying it open, Sakura laughs.

If you’ve found this, it means you’ve finally grown a pair and done what you were supposed to do. Well done, my pupil. You know your mission. I have trained you well. Do not disappoint me.

And behind the scrawled letter is a recipe.

She looks to the corpse and back down to the paper before she stands, going to gather the ingredients needed.

Sakura stands, flipping through the rest of the contents of the envelope until she pauses at another paper; a list of names and common dwellings.

The Shinigami’s is underlined three times in red.

xxv.

It ends with a girl (doesn't it always?), a girl made of nothing but destruction and anger, all slit throats and bleeding teeth.

She is horrid, she is wretched, she is powerful.

And she has grown, that girl made woman, she has grown and her eyes are wide open and she is intimately aware of the hated and evil of the world, of the weaknesses of the divine.

She finds them laying under a tree, peacefully existing and smiling at each other. The blonde one laughs, clutching his stomach while the raven simply watches on in adoration.

Sakura takes out the list, and under the Shinigami’s name crosses off two more, Raijin and Fujin.

Smiling, she makes her way towards them making sure to look a little lost and a bit scared.

And that thing inside her, the scaled, clawed, fanged thing, it smiles wide and hungry.

#silly things from silly friends #kakasaku #that one ninja anime #200 follower event :)#a shared pen

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kindiekritz · 3 years

Text

Get Some Rest, Samurai...

Via Anon Ask; “because im also a sap for Johnny and V- How do you think Johnny would help V cope with a panic attack? Especially when its likely something he's feeling laggy echoes of himself if he's in her head during it? (hurt/comfort is a FAVE of mine and i have anxiety, can ya' tell?)”

B ro,, don’t worry anon bc same here, we are anxiety homies together 👏😔 - This is my first time writing for Johnny Silverhand! Trying to get back on the writing boat, (haven't forgotten my previous fic!) and there's nothing like simping for video game characters to get that inspiration flowing. Do let me know what you think! Johnny may be a bit too OOC in this, I may have gone a little bit overboard with the soft? Ah well, I hope someone will enjoy it regardless :P

Here is the Ao3 Link! :D

V’s time was running out.

Every time the relic in their head would malfunction, every time they went into a coughing fit and the disgusting taste of metallic blood would fill their mouth, every time he would manifest himself in her head and V would catch a glimpse of his stupid fucking face…

V was reminded of the fact that their time was running out, and fast.

And despite the fact that they were doing everything in their power to stop the construct in her mind from completely destroying her from the inside out, that didn’t stop the fact that she still had to pay the rent.

In fact, it wasn’t cheap coughing up the eddies to pay Rouge for her services, or having to pay for bigger and better gear that would keep her alive when dealing with Arasaka guards, hell, it wasn’t cheap to keep purchasing more and more bottles of Omega Blockers, the pills were the only thing that kept him from completely taking control.

She found herself taking more and more gigs, trying to simply keep up with the extra costs of having a completely second personality living rent-free in her mind. But even then… she couldn’t find it in herself to reject or turn away people who needed her help, even if they had little to nothing to offer in return.

It seemed as if her phone was constantly buzzing with calls and texts of people who wanted and needed her help. No matter where she went or what she did, people needed her services, people needed her time.

And yet, time was something that she had very little left of.

V was exhausted. The bags under her eyes revealed that she hadn’t slept in days, and she couldn’t remember when she last had a proper meal.

She was always on the go, she didn’t have time to take care of herself.

But as she groggily opened the door to her apartment, she thought to herself that… maybe, just maybe… she would finally let herself take a nice, long warm shower.

V was too exhausted to care about the possibility of Johnny potentially staring at her nude form as she stood under the running water. Hell, let him stare for all she cared! The thought of warm water running over her exhausted muscles, washing away the dirt and grime of the city… it was too appealing at that moment.

She removed her weapon slung across her back, letting her beloved leather Samurai jacket slip off her shoulders and onto the ground, too exhausted to care about putting it away properly.

The weight of the gun in her hands was normally a welcome and grounding presence for V when she was on a mission, the weapon in her hands keeping her safe from those who wished to do her harm. But now? It felt too heavy, unbearably so, as if the weight would make her topple over onto the floor below. The muscles in her arms were exhausted and spent. As she rotated her shoulder she heard the joints audibly pop. The consequences of pushing her body too far.

She would do anything for the physical ache to go away.

As she stepped through the door to her armory and switched on the fluorescent lights of the room, her gaze fell upon someone already there, casually lounging atop her workbench and raising a cigarette to his mouth, pausing to speak before inhaling a deep puff of smoke.

“Damn V. You look like shit.”

She rolled her eyes at his comment, and made her way to her weapon locker instead, trying to ignore the weight of his gaze on the nape of her neck.

V fiddled with the combination, her foggy mind struggling to remember the correct numbers and the correct order, her fingers felt clumsy and uncoordinated as she inputs each digit. V cursed herself for making it so damn difficult, but eventually, she finally managed to swing the metal door open, proceeding to put her gun away amongst her collection of stored weapons.

Johnny hopped off of the workbench, stepping towards V as she organized her storage, resting his metal arm against the locker, using his height to his advantage as he towered over her and confronted her. “No, seriously V, you look like shit. When was the last time you slept?”

“Fuck— Johnny, I dunno… A few days I guess?” V slammed the door of the locker using more force than necessary, Johnny already starting to get on her nerves, the last thing she needed was Johnny Fucking Silverhand following her around like a worried mother hen. V pouted and huffed, blowing away a stubborn strand of hair that had fallen across her face, then turning to meet his gaze, hidden behind wine-colored lenses, and asked, “Why do you care anyway?”

“You’ve been on edge all day, I can feel it. You’re like a string that’s been strung too strongly. I feel like you’re ready to snap at any fuckn’ moment, V.”

She could feel his stare on her body and the tension in the room was beginning to suffocate her. He was poking at a sensitive topic for her, and he knew it.

V stuttered, trying to find the right words to say as she couldn't bring herself to look at him in the eye anymore, instead choosing to halfheartedly push him aside and walk away, “Johnny… I’m fine. Really. I just— I just need a shower and a nap, that’s all.”

As V stepped out of the room, the weight on her chest seemed to grow heavier with each step.

She wanted to crumble, she wanted to cry.

She just wanted to wrap up herself in a bundle of blankets and cry into an order of takeout. One of those ugly cries that made snot dribble from your nose and your cheeks flushed and red.

She wanted— no, V needed to let everything out.

But… she couldn’t. She didn’t have the time for it, she needed to get back to work soon. Here were people that needed her help and there were eddies to be made. She would let herself rest when she’d gotten that damned biochip out of her head.

It was at that moment when V’s phone began to ring, the sound interrupting her thoughts and causing her to pause in her step.

Almost as if on reflex, she quickly reached into her pocket and withdrew the device, not even bothering to check the caller ID before answering, “V speaking, what do you want?”

“V, it’s Regina. I’ve got another report of a cyberpsycho attack…”

V stopped listening to the voice on her phone, too distracted by the crushing pressure on her chest and the fact that she had begun to tremble and shake like a leaf.

All she had wanted was a hot shower and a night in, was that too much to ask?

After weeks of dodging blades and bullets, running meaningless errands and tasks for just a few eddies in return, spending sleepless nights that left dark circles under her eyes, and going days on end without even seeing her fucking apartment, all she wanted was a night in.

Was that too much to fucking ask?

She could faintly register Johnny’s voice coming from behind her, an uncharacteristically concerned tone in his voice as he asked, “...V? What’s wrong?”

The pressure in her chest grew heavier by the second, her breaths becoming strained and labored as the increasing fear and dread overwhelmed her body. She gripped her phone tightly in her hand, glaring at the device with tears prickling the corners of her eyes.

“V? Are you listening? I said that there’s another report of a cyberpsycho near your current position, are you still—“

With a press of a button, she hung up the phone.

Johnny watched V, her form trembling and shoulders tensed.

In all of their weeks stuck together, he’d never seen his little merc look so small. A real juxtaposition when compared to her usual self; a real fucking hardass, she was the only other person Johnny had ever met that was just as bullheaded and stubborn as himself.

As much as he teased her about it, Johnny knew one thing for certain. V was strong, V was determined. A damned force of nature and he pitied the bastards that stood in her way.

But despite the cybernetics in her body and the chip in her mind… V was human. V had her limits.

The facade she’d built up for herself couldn’t last forever, and Johnny knew it. He’d sensed the cracks in her resolve grow larger and larger with each sleepless night and after every exhausting gig.

But for a brief second, a thought crossed Johnny’s mind;

V was fractured… V was broken… V was weak.

And with that thought, V finally snapped.

“I AM NOT FUCKING WEAK!”

V cried out, lobbing her phone at him. It phased right through him, instead hitting against the wall, shattering the screen, and sending the device flying into some unknown corner of the room.

She froze, her eyes widening in shock, almost as if she couldn’t believe what she had done. The realization slowly setting in after the result of her outburst.

V’s vision blurred as tears welled in the corners of her eyes, she slowly fell to the cold floor, cradling her knees up to her chest and muffling her sobs in her arms.

Johnny watched as she sat in the middle of the room and sobbed.

She didn’t let herself cry when Jackie had died, she didn’t let herself cry when Vic told her that she was practically dying. V didn’t cry as she carried Evalyn’s bloodied body, and V didn’t cry late at night when she was alone, and her chest felt tight and her throat choked up.

He knew it was coming, he could feel V’s emotions as they bubbled up and reached their boiling point.

But what truly surprised him, was just how much it hurt him to see his little merc cry.

“Shit— V…” he nervously swallowed his throat, but try as he might, for once in his goddamn existence, he couldn’t find the right words to say.

Johnny didn’t like the way he felt.

Johnny didn’t like the way she made him feel at that moment.

He didn’t like the way his chest tightened at the sound of each of her sobs. The way he felt so restless as he could only watch her curl onto herself for comfort. He couldn’t stop himself from pacing back and forth across the room, unsure if it was her anxiety or his that was setting him off.

Johnny could almost feel V’s heart racing in her chest, the adrenaline flooding her veins, adrenaline meant to stimulate a fight or flight reaction. But when the pain and panic swelled from within her own chest, there was nowhere V could run, nobody she could physically fight.

All she could do was sob into her knees, desperately trying to hide her sobs and cries from him, but her own cries easily overpowered her.

And because of him, she didn’t even feel like she had the ability to freely have a goddamn mental breakdown in her own apartment, even as she choked and sobbed, she tried to grasp onto the shattered remains of her facade. Was it for her sake, or for his?

At that point… neither of them knew.

V couldn’t stop her body from trembling. She tightly gripped onto herself until her knuckles turned white. But V didn’t notice. It didn’t even register in her mind.

She didn’t register the hot tears as they streamed down her face, the shuddering cries that caused her lip to quiver with each breath. She couldn’t recognize that no matter how hard she tried, her frantic breaths caused her lungs to feel as if they were on fire, incapable of delivering oxygen to her body.

V’s mind didn’t even register the fact that Johnny had stopped pacing back and forth.

Her mind cursed at her to get her shit together. V needed to wipe away those tears and she needed to get back on the streets. A moment of weakness could’ve gotten her killed in her past, and now was no different.

But… the thought of standing up and leaving her apartment caused another fresh wave of sobs to rattle her body.

She was tired… she was so goddamn exhausted…

“V…”

All she wanted was a night in. Was that too much to ask? After all of her hard work and effort, hadn’t she earned it?

“V, listen to me.”

Clearly, she hadn’t done enough if people were still calling, still demanding her presence. Clearly she—

V felt something warm touch her cheek.

Someone was there.

Although her mind had stopped temporarily spiraling, she felt the wet salty tears dripping down her face, her vision was still blurry, and her cheeks were incredibly flushed. She must’ve looked… pathetic she thought. But regardless, she allowed herself to look up at the person who had reached out to her.

The cold of his metal rings juxtaposed the warmth of his hand, and as her eyes trailed up towards his arms, she caught sight of his familiar tattoos, but also an unfamiliar detail as she reached his face.

Instead of seeing her reflection in the lenses of his glasses, she was surprised to see his eyes staring into hers. Gone was any trace of malice or cruelty, instead his brown eyes reflected nothing but concern… an emotion she’d never expected to see from him.

Johnny.

As her tearful eyes met his, he could’ve almost sworn that he felt his engram heart stop beating for a second. The tears rolling down her cheeks, the way her lip trembled with each breath. He didn’t know why the sight of V feeling so upset affected him so, he blamed her emotions, her hormones, whatever came into his mind. He hated the way she made him feel, he hated that she had this much power over him.

But most of all, he hated the fact that he felt so powerless to stop it.

He would’ve gladly taken V cussing him out, he would’ve taken V nagging at him and complaining about the smell as he smoked in her apartment. He would’ve even happily taken V as she sang along to the car radio, something she’d originally done to get onto his nerves, but now it has become a sound he’s grown… to tolerate. Even sometimes… appreciate it.

He wasn’t the type to comfort people like this, he was the type to leave as soon as emotions came into play, the countless amount of hearts that he’d broken in the past were evidence enough. Fuck, he didn’t know how to deal with his own goddamn emotions, blowing up Arasaka tower as revenge to deal with his grief, that’s what got him into this mess.

But as he wiped away a tear from her soft cheek with his calloused thumb… he wasn’t going to just sit there and let his little merc cry.

“V. You’ve done more than enough for this city than it deserves. You’re always running back and forth, trying to make this shithole a better place… all while trying to keep yourself alive.” He wanted to tell her that this damned city didn’t deserve her generosity, it didn’t deserve her hard work, fuck, this city didn’t deserve her.

He didn’t deserve her.

And she didn’t deserve what he was doing to her.

“You keep spreading yourself too thin, you keep wanting to do shit for others, you keep wanting to help. But then you add the cherry on top — the fact that there’s a chip in your head slowly killin’ ya… You’ve got enough on your plate. You’ve earned a few nights of rest.”

V sniffled and tried to wipe away tears, her voice wavering as she spoke, “I-If I don’t keep goin’ if I don’t keep looking for a solution— I’m gonna die. Johnny, I don’t want to die—“

“V, you’re gonna end up dead long before the chip has an opportunity to kill you if you keep pushing yourself like this… You need to get some rest.”

He was right. As much as she fucking hated it… he was right.

She felt his metal hand cup her other cheek, the cool metal refreshing against the flushed skin, wiping away tears as he continued to speak.

“You’ve proven yourself enough to this city. You’ve proven yourself enough to me. But running yourself to the bone is not worth it in order to prove it to yourself. And you’re not alone V… as much as they get on my fuckn’ nerves, you’ve got chooms lookin’ out for ya, even if one of them is a fuckn’ cop—“

Through tears, V chuckled and playfully chided him, “Johnny…”

There it was… that little chuckle of hers that he was looking for. He wouldn’t admit it to others, he wouldn’t even admit it to himself, but V’s laughter never failed to make him feel something funny in his chest… it wasn’t like the high of drugs or liquor, but it felt just as addictive. It wasn’t like the adrenaline rush of a firefight or the rush during a show, but it made him feel just as excited and lightheaded.

He cleared his throat, trying to get his mind off of that feeling, and spoke, “Listen… all I’m saying… is that you’re not alone V. And although I don’t have much of a choice, whenever you need me…” he playfully smiled as his eyes met hers, “I’m always here for ya V.”

And that’s all it took.

In one moment to another, V wrapped her arms around his waist, knocking him on his ass from his previous kneeling position, and burying her head against his chest.

Despite sharing a head and body, somehow, someway, V always found a way to surprise him.

He groaned, the deep rumbles from his chest as he spoke making V settle in closer, anchoring herself to his presence.

“Fuck, V, a little warning next time would be nice.”

But even as he whined… he wasn’t complaining. Not when her sobs were beginning to fade, and she was instead chuckling at his expense in his arms.

He ignored that funny feeling in his chest as his organic arm wraps itself against her body, his calloused hand rubbing circles against the small of her back, feeling her trembling begin to slow under his soft touch. Over time, her breathing began to even, and soon enough she was taking deep breaths as she recovered.

Without even consciously doing so, Johnny’s metal hand found itself entwined with the strands of her hair, softly caressing as V’s eyes began to droop, and exhaustion began to overtake her body.

“V… it’s time for you to go to bed.”

“I’m fine Johnny, I’m—“ a yawn interrupted her mid-sentence, “I’m not even tired.”

“And I’m not buying it.” He chuckled as his arm wrapped around her midsection.

“W-wait Johnny what are you— Johnny!” In an instant, V was thrown over his shoulder as he stood from the ground, and she gripped onto him in order to avoid falling to the floor.

“What does it look like I’m doing? I’m taking you to bed.” He chuckled as he felt her hand playfully slap against his shoulder.

“Fucking hell Johnny, a warning would be nice!” He could almost imagine her expression as he walked across the apartment, the way she would pout in exasperation.

“Just repaying the favor, that’s all.” He smirked as he reached her bed. Slowly setting her down from his shoulder onto the mattress below.

“There. It’s time that you allowed yourself to get some rest, and not that weird shit you do where you sleep across the bed huddled in a little ball, but some actual sleep, under the covers and all.”

“Fine, fine…” V slipped into a pair of nightclothes as Johnny had the decency to look away, and then slipped under the blankets, making herself comfortable. But before she drifted off to sleep, she called out, “Johnny?”

“... yeah?”

“I just— I just wanted to say thanks. Y’know, for tonight and all.”

“‘Course…” he stepped towards the bed once more as he spoke, “I mean, if I’m the one telling you that you need some rest, you probably fucked up somewhere along the way.”

“That’s true… judging from your memories, you’re terrible at following your own advice, Johnny.” She smiled at him, uncertain if the lack of sleep had made her delirious or if perhaps she was feeling particularly honest that night, but she spoke, “Y’know, if fucking up this badly was the catalyst for us to meet… I would do it all over again.”

He smiled sadly in return, brushing a strand of hair behind her ear, his cold metal hand brushing her cheek as he did so. An action to acknowledge the words between them were best left unspoken and unsaid— at least, for now.

“...Goodnight V.” He tore his gaze from her as he turned to walk away.

“Wait— Johnny!”

She grasped his metallic hand before he had the opportunity to pull away.

“... stay with me? Just for tonight?”

With her eyes looking up at him, her smaller hand clinging onto his, causing his breath to hitch and his heart to race—

How could he say no?

“Fine, but just for tonight. I can’t have you thinkin’ I’m goin’ soft or something.”

Johnny slipped under the covers, and without even needing to be asked, he wrapped his arms around V, and she rested her head against his chest in return.

“Get some rest, samurai… the city will still be there waiting for us when you awake.”

Thank ya kindly for reading! I'm always down for some constructive criticism and I love to read any lovely comments about my fics. Do let me know if there are any mistakes, I don't have a beta reader for Cyberpunk just yet, so a few mistakes may have gotten away from me!

And feel free to send in asks/requests! I'm so in love with Johnny and V and I can spend hours thinking and talking about them aaaaa

#CW Panic Attack #Cyberpunk 2077 #Johnny Silverhand #Johnny Silverhand x V #V #my works #fanfic #fluff #hurt and comfort is my kink ngl?#god i just.... lOVE THESE TWO SM

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slippery-minghus · 2 years

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oh. i just realized something. like literally had to pause what i was doing it hit me so hard.

earlier i was lamenting how much i wish i was better at being a private person and never talking about myself. how in some ways i wish i could start over at a new job and make an effort to never talk about myself in detail. both because i really like the idea of being a mysterious closed book of a person, but also bc in a way it would feel easier to be a blank slate around my peers rather than let people get to know me. basically, i want to avoid vulnerability to such a degree that i am invisible.

and then i was thinking about how i'm going to call my mom (for possibly the last time) this weekend, and i was mulling over what might be worth telling her about what's going on in my life right now. i thought excitedly about telling her about the contest my office just won and how we get a sponsored outing as a reward. ...and then i remembered that she wouldn't care. that she'd just be waiting for me to stop talking so she could continue on about her life. and then i thought back to the last times i've talked to her in the past year and how little of my life i've told her. how little she made an effort to ask. how little she cared when she was visiting in summer.

no wonder it's stuck with me so hard when she got mad at me for my driving when she was last here. i was trying to show her a house with a window that sometimes has a cat in it, which is the highlight of my morning commute, and she got mad bc i had to stop a little short bc we ran into traffic. i finally understand why that interaction still hurts half a year later.

and i realized in all of this... why i find it so... attractive to make myself invisible. to be a blank slate that no one knows anything about (because there's nothing to know. there isn't a person here, just an object to fulfill your needs). it's because it's how i had to adapt to be around my mother. and my dad too of course, because anything i showed was a weakness to attack. but with my mom... it was just simply ignored. it was an obstacle to her getting her needs met. so to cope a part of me decided i should just stop being a person, at least on the outside, so our interactions are smoother and i won't be constantly rejected. i can't be ignored if i never ask for attention.

so i guess no, i'm not going to offer really anything about my life when i speak with her this weekend. but at least i'll be doing it because i know she'll never accept my bids for attention. and i don't need them met by her. that's the difference now that i'm an adult. my needs are being met, and i don't need her crumbs of validation.

#and another realization.... we're coming to the final scene of the prophetic dream i had a few months ago about cutting contact with her #i was at her house packing my room up and she came to me and demanded to know why i was behaving so outrageously #and i wanted to tell her everything. give her a piece of my mind. again.#but i barely opened my mouth before i realized it wasn't worth it. that i'd never get through to her #and it certainly wasn't worth it literally minutes before i left forever #so i closed my mouth and went back to packing #and i left. for good this time....#it's been a year since i cut ties with my dad......#it's time to finish what i started #personal #this gave me a lot of clarity

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zuzu-hotman · 4 years

Text

Ready To Love Pt.2 [[Zuko]]

Pairing: Zuko x Female!Reader

Warnings: More angst??? Dark-ish imagery?

A/N: Uh so I got asks for more??? I want you all to know most of my works are angst- but I live for good ends so dw (; I’ll link the first part after posting bc tungle is dumb. Anyways, probably gonna do a third cause there’s a bit more I want to do with this and I don’t want too much at once <3

Pt.1

“ Hᴇʏ, ᴡɪʟʟ ʏᴏᴜ ʀᴇᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴡᴏʀᴅs ᴛʜᴀᴛ ᴡɪʟʟ ʜᴏʟᴅ ʜᴇʀ ᴄʟᴏsᴇ?”

Seeing him again was like adding salt to deep wounds- rubbing the coarse grains deep into gashes, open and bleeding. You kind of hated that it hurt so bad- you were supposed to be over it. You were supposed to be completely done with him. With all remnants of him. His choice was clear- the truth was laid out bare for your eyes to see.

He was not who you thought he was. He was not the Zuko you knew in your mind- and maybe he never was.

No one who had once worn a kind smile could look like he did that day, right? There was no way someone like that could just... lose all sense of themselves? That look he held- the crazed fire in his eyes.. how those flames should have touched you- burned you. Perhaps Zuko was not as skilled as Azula. He didn’t bend the way she did, but that didn’t make him any less powerful. He had good aim- he knew you’d find it hard to even try to make an attack on him. He could’ve used that against you- it’s what Azula would have done.

You assumed that if he could so easily turn into Azula’s direction.. he’d be able to be as cruel as her. That he’d use your weakness to him against you. You felt the heat of his flames, you knew they could have scorched you. You weren’t that accustomed to fighting yet. For a long time you had suppressed your bending- scared of what it might bring you and what it meant for your future.

You came to regret that eventually. You could have told your parents- your Father could have shown you so much..

Fate was absolutely cruel- you firmly believed this now. She had no right to harm you like this- to drag you through the mud, already beaten down and tired.

She allowed him the chance to be in this group. You wanted to object, violently so. It wasn’t your place to though. Your personal ties to him had no place stopping him from teaching Aang about fire bending. The Avatar needed to know all four elements to bring balance. It was important to Aang’s journey and to putting an end to this long war.

That didn’t make you despise it any less. Hatred or anger- which was it you felt?

“Please talk to me..”

His quiet plea fell upon your ears in the dead of night, long after everyone else had retired to their own spaces. You had suspected he’d find his way to you soon- someway or somehow. With no one else around to bear witness. You hated how you froze in place- how all that anger just fizzled into nothing at the sound of him. So sad- so lonely. You were his only link to his former self, to who he should have become. A tiny string stuck on it’s last thin thread. You didn’t know that however. t’s not as if that was his only reason for reaching for you like this, and that you didn’t know of as well. You were in the dark on his feelings.

As you assumed you always had been.

“___, please..”, he whispers once more when he gets no response.

You make sure to keep your breathing even, to not move at all. Give him an inch and he’d probably take miles. Miles upon miles- stretch you until you break into tiny pieces. Yet some small pieces would still yearn- crave for what your brain told you not to.

You hear his breath hitch a bit, as if he’s fighting back overpowering emotions- him? The glorious crown prince who had slain the Avatar? The prince who turned a blind eye to you, to his good Uncle? The audacity- and yet you felt no actual anger. Not when he spoke.

“I- I’m so-- ___ I’m so sorry. I know that’s not enough. I know it will never be enough- I was wrong. I did everything so wrong and Uncle- I’m sure he hates me. I’m sure you do too. I never meant- I thought it was my destiny to.. to.. capture him. For my honor and my nation. I thought I was right and..”, he takes in a shaky breath. You’re glad you can’t see him. His face just might break you. “I hurt you. I hurt Uncle. I-I made you not trust me- I disappeared and I never responded to any of your letters- I still have them I- I don’t know.. I don’t have a reason or any excuse I just.. please. Please at least talk to me- say something! Anything! I’ve missed you- I was miserable- it’s not home.. not without you. I made mistakes even there I.. even she told me that I was wrong.. even..” and he trails off, gaining no response.

Little did he know he was close to getting one. She? He didn’t mean Azula.. he would have said her name. You hated how your chest burned- what mistakes could he make there? At home? No- not home. Not your home.

“...You’re sleeping.. I hope. I almost got loud. I’m..”, he sucks in a breath, “Okay. Another time.”

You choose to ignore the way he sniffs- knowing all too well it meant he’d shed tears. If you acknowledge it, you know what may happen. You know how it’d go- how weak you’d be. This isn’t how it should be, you should be able to ignore him without batting an eye. He should be able to just let you go. He’d already done so. What was the use in this? Hadn’t he decided already, who he was or at the least who you were to him?

Clearly nothing-

You let out a heavy breath, almost shudderingly so when you hear his footsteps fade away. You clench your eyes shut, banishing any trace of wetness from your eyes. No no no- you would not cry. Not again, and not anymore. Remember how he looked- remember those crazed eyes and harsh blasts of fire. Remember and hold it- no apology could fix it. Not so simply. It would take much more than words because.. you weren’t sure your aching heart could take much more of it..

Morning came quickly, with no remorse to any who had not slept in her absence. Specifically to you or Zuko. Luckily enough, you hid it well enough. Zuko? Not so much. Clearly he looked like he’d had a fitful sleep.

Hmph-

“Wow. I didn’t know it was possible for you to look even angrier than usual.”, Sokka pipes up, already at his usual antics of antagonizing the newest group member.

“Shut. Up.”, Zuko hisses in response, causing Aang and Toph to laugh a bit at his expense.

“You really should sleep. Set a good example for your new student.”

“I said shut up.”

“He is kinda right, you know.”, Toph adds in, “It’s not good to be up so late.”

Zuko freezes for a moment, but says nothing else. You’d almost forgotten- Toph was very attuned to the earth. Of course she’d know if anyone was up and moving. The only thing to question was if she’d heard him. At the time though, there would be no answer to it. He wouldn’t ask and she didn’t seem keen on pressing the issue. No one else was aware either. So it just faded into silence, not spoken of. It was replaced by Zuko barking at Aang that it was time to start his training.

“I lost my stuff.”, he says it so plainly. Uninvited and without any context.

“Wasn’t me.”

Zuko makes a face, “No I mean my bending- I don’t know I..”

You decide to tune him out, spacing away from his frustration and Katara’s laughter. Was he really that out of it? He suddenly couldn’t bend? What a load of garbage. If he expected you to feel bad, you didn’t. Not even the slightest. Serves him right for the look he gave you when he learned of your bending. When he saw the element of fire was not in you to control, but-

“___” , He speaks your name softly.

You look up to where he stands, a few feet away. You hadn’t noticed everyone else had already gone to bed. It was just you and him and the dwindling fire between you.

“I-”

“Goodnight.”, you say, starting to stand up, brushing your legs off.

“Wait-”, he gently grabs the sleeve of your shirt but you push his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.” You don’t look at him- you can’t. You must remain strong- don’t do what you did in Ba Sing Se. Don’t fall into that hole a second time..

“At least hear me out- get mad all you want. Scream at me- hit me I don’t care just-”

“I’m not going to do that. You made your bed. Lie in it.”

“I did, you’re right. I did and I’m so-”

“Don’t apologize. Teach Aang bending. I’m not a part of this- none of them know I knew you, which clearly I didn’t. I never did. I know you as this guy I bumped into in Ba Sing Se. This guy that I thought I was nice and had a good heart but I guess I misjudged. Maybe he just feels guilty or that apologizing to me might right his wrongs or whatever. If this is your way of getting them to trust you more, I’ll allow it. Anything to help Aang.”, you speak as calmly as you can. Not sparing a glance, “You already made your choices- you already let me go so just-”

“I don’t want to let you go though- I never wanted to. I just- I thought I was right. I thought that.. you’d come home. I thought that that was still home. I was wrong. I was so wrong-”

“Yet you still stayed, huh?”, you say, bitterly now, “You had a little life out there- you had your glory. Had the nation at your feet. The crown prince who slayed the-”

“I’m not that person! I never was!”

“You seemed to think you were! You acted the part! You were there for well over a month!”, you looked at him now, eyes burning, “You weren’t sorry enough to come back earlier! You didn’t think enough- you didn’t care enough! You were gone for three years! You never replied- I lost my Father! I lost what I thought was home and you weren’t there! I find you in Ba Sing Se- acting like no time had passed! Like we never grew apart! You talk to me like you still knew me, like you still cared! Yet you still chose to do what you did!”

He’d shrunk back a bit, shocked at the bass in your voice- how heavily it weighed on him. He didn’t know you felt all that. He had no idea..

“Your Father-?”

“Don’t.”, you hiss, quieting down, now aware you might have stirred the others from their sleep, “Don’t even. Don’t come to me with any apologies unless you really mean it- unless you’re ready to tell all you have to tell. I’m done with secrets and lies. Good night.”

You walk off now, leaving him to stand by the dying fire. His hand feels cold- his chest aches- your Father? That man he’d seen love you so happily- the home that was worn down but well loved? Gone? How had you suffered so without him even knowing- what had happened to you in his absence?

Why hadn’t he even thought of it?

How did he manage to screw up a screw up?

Zuko groaned to himself, pinching the bridge of his nose, “...what would Uncle have me do- what’s right..”

How to salvage this mess?

“Mʏ ᴍɪɴᴅ ɪs ᴀ sʜɪᴘᴡʀᴇᴄᴋs ғʟᴏᴏʀ..”

Pt.3

#zuko #zuko x reader #zuko x you #zuko fic #fire lord zuko #atla zuko #avatar the last airbender #ari writes #ready to love #oop #hi hiii

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