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#that is still your comrade that is still your friend that is still the boy you saved terms ago but now he is Changed.
niko-sasaki-dbd · 3 days
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I'm still thinking about Death's words in Episode 1, and the way I think she was not just talking to Wilfred (the soldier), but indirectly, she was talking to Edwin and Charles too.
Let me explain...
"You've been fighting old battles for too long (...) you died over a hundred years ago"
"I came for you then, but you were so confused, so filled with anger and with hate, you seem a lot better now"
I wonder if they overheard her, if that's even possible, or if it was something purely directed to us, as an audience.
It just makes me think quite a lot, because her words were so on point for the way the boys' arc was going to develop. In one side, Edwin fighting against his own mindset in order to face his own identity and his feelings, and then Charles, facing his trauma, and the frustration and anger that he had been carrying since he died.
Oh, and then there's the poem:
They will come back - come back again, as long as the red Earth rolls.
He never wasted a leaf or a tree. Do you think He would squander souls?
[Source: The Sack of the Gods, Rudyard Kipling]
This is not the whole version, only the last verse that Death recites in that scene. I would like to mention the story behind it too, because I find the connections curious.
The Kipling Society refers that this poem—most probably—was written as a form of celebration, "in lofty cosmic terms" of Kipling’s partnership with his friend Wolcott Balestier, who died unexpectedly in December 1891.
Together, it passionately asserts, the two young comrades had fought to conquer the heights, an endeavour which seems long ago now that Wolcott is dead.
[Source: The Sack of the Gods – Background (notes by Jan Montefiore and John Radcliffe)]
Also, about the lofty cosmic terms, these are found in the following verses of the poem:
Under the stars beyond our stars where the new-forged meteors glow,
(...)
Dust of the stars was under our feet, glitter of stars above—
Wrecks of our wrath dropped reeling down as we fought and we spurned and we strove.
Worlds upon worlds we tossed aside, and scattered them to and fro.
I don't know if the connection between the poem and the song that plays in the background of Charles' memories in Episode 7, was intentional or no.
And it's something quite peculiar,
Something shimmering and white
It leads you here, despite your destination,
Under the Milky Way tonight.
[Source: Under The Milky Way - The Church]
But I think is beautiful, if you take into account that the meaning of that poem revolves around the idea of deja-vu, "hearking back to an experience in an earlier life, based on reincarnation"; and that there's always that possibility.
Is this something? Am I even making sense?
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iceeericeee · 7 months
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I wonder how many tags i can add on to this
#there must be SOME kind of a limit otherwise posts would get suuuuuuper duper long like is it just 30?#idk but i'm going to find out by simply maxxing out the character limit for each tag and finding out the limit of tags for each post lololo#this is gonna be great. i just have to remember to type without ever using the comma. it shouldn't be too hard right? fuck i almost typed#the comma i'm already bad at this smh my head. also if your still here i commend you. you have a better attention span than i do.#i'm already starting to get bored holy shit this is not happening. i gotta power through this. FOR SCIENCEEEEEEEEEE. or somethinggggggggggg#but fr idk what else to say. maybe just saying that i don't know what to say will be good enough? but does that even count?#I don't even know anymore. ffffffffuck. this is gonna be a while huh? also holy shit if you're still here omg u deserve like. a prize or#something because u definitely didn't have to stay and read all of this bull shit. lololol i typed out bs but decided to just spell the who#thing out just to make it go by faster. i'm so lazy. this is only the nineth tag HOW will i make it to 30. i am sobbing the adhd is adhding#very hard rn. are you still here? bruh this is insane. i have somehow managed to keep ur attention this long and it's just me spouting#absolute balderdash. wait do you know what balderdash even means? i don't care if you do already i'm gonna tell you anyway. balderdash is#basically just another word for nonsense. boom. you learned something new today. balderdash equals nonsense equals this damn post.#why did i decide to do this in the first place. it was a dumb idea. i don't know if i can even keep going. this is only the *counts tags*#it's the 14th tag. we've got a long way to go boys. men. soldiers. comrads. friends. besties peeps. marshmallows.#where was i going with this? oh yeah. trying to max out the limit for tags. dang i almost typed a comma there. i haven't done that since#i think the third or fourth tag. dang that feels like such a long time ago. not for you guys probably. it feels longer because i have to li#type it all out and stuff. so it's definitely gonna feel longer for me. are you still here? good lord don't you have better things to#be doing than reading all of this? we're already on tag number 18. it feels like i should be on the thirtyeth by now. or however it's spell#'toast' you might be wondering 'why are you typing out the names of the numbers instead of say '9' or '5'?' well you see. young one.#this is a strategy i'm using to make each tag slightly longer. even if i don't know how to spell it. it'll make it just a little bit longer#anyway. i got off topic. not that there was ever a topic to begin with. unless it's about making this as long as i can.#which i am apparently good at doing. i guess. are you STILL here? do you seriously have nothing to do? i guess i'm flattered you stayed thi#whole time. instead of reading something else you stayed here. with me. listening to me talk. on the twenty-third tag. oh yeah its tag 23#except now it's tag twenty-four. how crazy is that. this little talk is almost over. only 6 tags away if memory serves right. this's strang#i kind of don't want this to end. but i know it should. after all there is a limit. but all things must come to and end at some point i gue#i'm running out of things to say. it's probably a good thing it's almost over. hahahahah............... but i don't want to go. i don't wan#to leave this post. i've worked so hard on it. and for what. just for it to end. are you still here? yes? good. i'd hate to end this alone.#thank you for indulging me and my craziness. the end is only 2 tags away now. you can go ahead and leave. i'll be okay on my own. really...#...you're still here? i- i don't know what to say. i suppose a toast is in order. perhaps. for this journey. this stupid dumb post i though#would be fun. i'll make it short. it's the last tag after all. this was fun. but i will never do it again. so long as a i live. i'll miss y
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polyboros · 2 years
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i need to pick up xbc3 again soon to get back in the groove but my halloween ouroboros fic idea is "what if interlinking and being ouroboros made you share traits with your interlink partner outside of it and also Changed You" aka this is the fic where i catboyify noah
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paint-the-walls-white · 2 months
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I don't share
Pairing: Possessive!König x Fem!Reader
Summary: König doesn't like sharing you, which is exactly why you had been married for almost ten years and none of his comrades knew about you. At least, not until he drunkenly spilled the beans and you showed up the next day with a box of cookies..
Warnings: Bondage! MDom! Doggy! CreamPie! OverStim! Oral(M2F)!
König was very secretive of his personal life on account of his social anxiety. He had been transfered to Task Force 141 for a while and had made pretty good friends with them, but of course, one night TF141 was making fun of him while drinking and in his own drunken haze he blurted out something that didn't go unnoticed,
"If you keep making fun of my wife, I'll kill you. Oh wait, that sounded like a joke; I will actually kill you."
He was very protective and possessive of you, which you didn't mind in the slightest. But he had accidently revealed that he had a wife, and everyone kept pestering him about it.
"I bet she's a strong lass aye? Big as an Ox! Only person that makes sense fer a mountain" Soaps slurred comment made him scoff as König kept sipping on his vodka, aggravated and embarrassed.
"What she do fer a living König? She a construction worker or somethin?"
König looked at Gaz with bewilderment. "A construction worker? where the hell did you get that? Gott.. Nein she's a baker."
Even Ghost was muttering how she probably had massive arms to carry 8 trays at once of protein bars. König kept to himself the rest of the night before returning home to you.
"Hi mein Liebe, I'm home." He pressed a kiss on your forehead, stripping off his tactical vest and mask then kicking off his boots.
"How was your night with the boys? Was it fun?"
He lied down on top of you, burying his face in your chest, crushing your small frame as he huffed annoyed.
"Kept making fun of you...Arschlöcher.. kept sayin you were a big burly lady.."
You snorted, running your fingers through his hair. You told him to ignore them because they didn't know what they were talking about, they were just trying to get a rise out of him.
He sighed, content in your arms as he fell into a drunken sleep on top of you, the crushing pressure more than welcomed.
The next day you decided to surprise König on base with a little gift. The guards of course did not believe that you were his wife so you pulled out the marriage certificate and your spouse ID card to shove it in their face. They were gob smacked as they discovered he had a wife and informed you he was currently at the cantina.
You were directed where to go, a box of chocolate chip cookies in had as you made your way there. Once inside, the place gradually got quiet as you made your way over to your husband giddy as his back faced you.
König was currently berating his friends about making fun of you again until he noticed that they weren't even paying attention, they were looking behind him.
He turned, and there you were, barely meeting his eye level while he was sitting, a box of cookies in hand adorned in a pleated pink skirt and a white tank top with a knit sweater and chunky white heels.
"Surprise! I brought you cookies Liebe!"
The horror that flooded his gaze was unmatched. He quickly wrapped around you to hide you from onlookers, glaring in their direction.
"Mein Liebe, what are you doing here? You are for my eyes only!"
You pouted into him, pushing off of his chest, "I wanted to surprise you," His eyes softened and he huffed, turning to glare at the men at the table who were still gaping in your direction.
"Thas your wife König? The lass is like half your size!" Soap stared on in horror, you could tell what he was thinking about so you hid in his shirt.
"Let's go." He stood, throwing you over his shoulder and flattening your skirt over your ass. Your face was red as you tried to keep the box from being crushed, and you just stared down, completely embarrassed.
"König put me down!" You kicked your legs, trying to fight him off, but he just smacked your ass and carried you out of the cantina, everyone completely silent.
"What the hell just happened." Ghost shrugged at Soaps comment and just kept eating silently.
König had carried you all the way to his quarters, gently placing you on the bed. The blood had rushed to your head so you were bright red.
He knelt, taking off your shoes and rubbing at your sore feet.
"Why did you think this was a good idea mein Liebe? Hmm?"
"I just wanted to bring you a treat.. I thought you'd like seeing me here.."
König sighed, kissing your shin before he looked up at you with his piercing gaze.
"Lamm, I can't keep my eyes off of you, which means neither can other men. I'm the only one that gets to look at you. Du bist mein."
You huffed and averted your gaze, cheeks a bright pink as you handed him a cookie.
"Still, you didn't have to make a scene.." He simply chuckled and stood.
"I know you like it when I toss you around Liebling, you cant fool me. I know you loved the attention."
He caged you in on the bed, prompting you to lie on your back, legs hanging off the edge. You pulled up his mask to reveal his mouth and pressed your lips to his. König groaned softly, slanting his lips against yours, intensifying the kiss.
You moaned and panted into his mouth, whimpering at the flavor of his tongue against yours. He ran a hand up your thigh, squeezing your soft skin in his calloused hands.
He pulled away to attack your neck, sucking and biting at the exposed skin
"K-König.. what if someone sees-!"
"Don't care.. they need to know who you belong to... Du bist mein..."
You squirmed underneath him, far too excited at the attention he was giving you, especially when he slipped a finger under your panties and rubbed at your sloppy folds.
"Scheiße.. du bist so wet for me Liebe.."
You watched with dazed eyes as he slid off the bed onto his knees, dragging you to the edge of the bed where he ripped off your underwear and started sucking on your clit. You immediately grabbed at the fabric of his mask and threw your head back, arching into his mouth as you moaned loudly.
König quickly sunk two fingers into your wet cunt, rubbing at your sensitive walls as he fucked you with his hand. You met his gaze and whimpered as he continued eating you out like a starved man. He moaned against your pussy as you came on his hands and face, plenty of slick being absorbed into the fabric hiding his face.
A soft whine escaped as he cleaned up your mess with his tongue, savoring every drop of your arousal. He stood, sucking his fingers clean as he stared down at your spent form lying limply on the bed.
"Braves Mädchen.."
You lied there, staring at him as you tried to grasp a single thought after that mind blowing orgasm, but you just blushed when you noticed his dick straining against his pants.
"What is it Liebling? You want more? Dirty little slag..."
Gnawing on your lip, you nodded, completely drunk on his attention. The sound of his belt being unbuckled and shucked from his pants immediately made you throb for him.
He bound your wrists with the belt, flipping you on your stomach so you were bent over the side of the bed. You had to stand on your toes, causing your legs to shake at the stretch.
"König.. Please.." He chuckled at your desperate plea as he forced your knees back onto the bed so your hips met his. He rubbed the head of his cock along your slick folds, teasing you by swiping over your clit.
You whined, burying your face further into the mattress as the friction of the blanket rubbed against your knees. König sunk the head of his cock into you, eliciting a pitiful moan as he stretched you wide, this fat cock stuffing into you inch by inch.
He groaned softly at the friction, praising you for taking him so well, "It's like you were made for me Mein Liebe, wrapped so fucking tight around me... Scheiße.."
He slowly pulled out then sunk back in, reveling in the feel of your gummy cunt wrapping tight around his meaty shaft. You whined, pressing against him to meet each thrust, tears staining the mattress as you took his cock.
König nearly growled every time you sucked him back in, head thrown back as he pulled your hips against his.
"I don't share Liebling.. You're all mine.. Only I get to see you.. get to fuck you... Scheiße.."
He moaned as you tightly squeezed around him, creaming on his dick. He watched as a ring of white collected at the base of his cock, stuffing it all the way in before spurting thick ropes of cum into your cunt.
He pulled out slowly, his cum leaking down your thighs as you whimpered at the empty feeling. He gently undid the belt around your wrists and pressed a kiss to your forehead through his mask.
"Stay there Liebling, Ill clean you up.."
König stepped away to get a washcloth soaked in warm water, gently cleaning off the arousal that had covered your legs and folds, placing a gently kiss on your ass and putting your underwear, socks and shoes back on for you.
"Now let's get you out of here, I don't need anyone else looking at my beauty.." you just nodded slowly and tried to rise on shaky legs. Clinging to his arm, he walked you back to your car, many onlookers staring in shock and utter horror.
He raised his mask above his nose and pressed a soft kiss to your lips before letting you leave. When you started the car, window still rolled down, he listened intently to the radio, realizing you were listening to his playlist.
Rein, Raus
Rein, Raus
Rein, Raus..
You flushed, turning down the radio and meekly met his gaze, "I like that song.. Reminds me of you.."
His piercing blue eyes told you all you needed to know. When he got home, you wouldn't be going anywhere for a while.
Because he was going to make sure you couldn't walk.
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alwaysshallow · 2 months
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marriage of convenience with ghost....... is definitely not for the weak. or, if you think he's still gonna be this grumpy son of a bitch that you know from your high school days.
you need money and good health plan; and he can provide you that, so with trembling hands, you send him a letter; strictly to his unit. not many details, as if someone would read it, you'd be in trouble. just a simple ask if you could meet with him, if he still remembers you because you still remember him.
it's not easy as you'd like to, though - everything has to wait because he's on deployment for the next two months, but you can wait. you struggle, but you wait.
in the meantime, you exchange letters with him, as it's more of a "stationing" deployment rather than a open crossfire; you didn't expect he'd be so much of a talker in them. you learn about him and his "comrades" (because he rarely uses the word friends anymore), what it's like. what he misses, and you learn that he miss you.
you feel kind of bad that you reached out to him for materialistic matter in the first place. you feel even more bad when you see him right in front of you after two months of writing to each other.
he changed. very much so; he's bigger and wider than he was in high school. more nonchalant, nothing like a quiet boy like he was. simon looks like he owns the place, even if the said place is a hill that you used to chill at after school.
you break news to him within ten minutes of the meeting, nervous. there's a lot of monologue from your side, you don't even let him talk until he grips your jaw in his monstrous hand and your lips shut themselves automatically.
"okay."
and then, just like it, it's done. you think it's gonna be easy, an open marriage until you're gonna be stable. he's so much on deployment anyway, he said it himself, so you won't be obliged to do "wife duties".
you thought this way until the wedding night. until he grabbed you and asked how would you like it.
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eelnoise · 16 days
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with hearts aligned (nsfw!)
zoro x fem!reader this fic's followup btw. takes place between fishman island and PH (yes there's lore!! 🙄! and yes zoro did keep all that shit bottled up for a bit!!) cw: confessions of love, somewhat troubled zoro, not-so-awkward first times (our boy is intuitive okay ?!), piv sex, fingering, cute stuff idk an: okay i know this took a long time but i re-wrote this like 5 times and accidently got hyperfixated on ffxiv and generally needed a break from writing BUT WE ARE BACK BABY !!! wc: 3.4k tagging @bby-deerling @kaizokuniichan @sleepymarimo @willowbelle @nina-ya
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The clinking of cutlery upon plates and chatter among friends fills the small island tavern with animated joy and serene relief. Brook plays the violin somewhere to the left side of the room, though the eager blathering of the crew drowns out the more finer notes and melodies played. 
A well-deserved interruption and a welcome change from the unpredictable nature of the past few day’s events – though for Zoro, it’s a distraction that’s come to an end. Despite the crew being whole again, he still feels a hollowness within – something no amount of eating or drinking or fighting can fill.
And it’s entirely his fault.
You sit across the table from him, sipping at a near-empty glass of wine and discussing something inaudibly with Usopp. He can’t quite read your expression from where he’s seated, but you look interested enough in the conversation. 
And if it’s obvious to himself that he’s keeping you at arm’s length, it’s clear to anyone with a working conscience that he’s doing his utmost to avoid you. The many longing gazes from his peripheral do not go unnoticed, but he dares not to look – for the hurt in your eyes would crush him and sear and stain into his soul.  A far-flung difference from the camaraderie that came before all of this, when the two of you were rarely found an inch too far apart from one another – and now Zoro can’t even look you in the eye. After his many imagined intimate rendezvous,how could he?
With you distracted, he lets his eye wander across your face, to the length of your arm, down to the glass pinched between your fingers – but it comes to rest upon your lips. He watches, transfixed on the flight peek of your tongue behind your teeth when you speak, how your lips twist with each syllable, how they purse when you’re in thought, and the way they stretch across your cheeks when you smile.
Zoro’s throat tightens, a sharp dagger of guilt carving into his chest. He forces his stare to the table, the tiniest sliver of your form still lingering in the corner of his vision. You’ve journeyed this far, fought, bled, and laughed together. And now, for once, he’s unable to find the words to say.
The weight of his inaction bears down on him, leaving him listless. The only respite he’s found is in the distraction of a battle, a thudding, a clash, steel ringing against steel. In those moments, he’s alive, he’s focused, and the words that plague his every waking thought cease to exist. But without the battle, Zoro is left with nothing but the echoes of unspoken desires.
His hand trembles, gripping his mug of ale as he brings it to his lips. The bitterness of the brew does little to quell the fire in his chest. He’s a swordsman, a pirate – not a poet, bard, or a man of words. It’s a mess of feelings. Lust, want, longing, love, all these indescribable sensations that only serve to make Zoro feel weak and helpless and vulnerable when faced with them. He feels like a coward, daring never to speak to you again, never to confess his feelings, and never pulling you into his arms and kissing you senseless.
Zoro’s eye meets yours for one singular fleeting moment, the intensity of the connection making his heart race. He knows he can’t keep up this charade, this dance of avoidance – but how does one even confess to these feelings? How does one bridge the gap between comrade and lover? He scratches his chin, trying to come up with a solution, but all he can think of is a single, frustrating fact: he can’t keep running.
Whether it’s every empty bottle he’s seen the bottom of tonight, the last of his resolve wearing thin, or just the sheer guilt of it all that drives him suddenly to his feet, he isn’t sure. Inhaling one of the deepest breaths he’s ever taken, he silently trudges around the table to where you’re seated.
At first, he hovers awkwardly so as to not interrupt the conversation you’re having. Both hands come to rest at either side of the back of your chair and he can feel his pulse through his fingertips on the wood – and when you tilt your head up to look at him, a curious smile twitching at the edges of your cheeks, he cracks.
Zoro clears his throat and forces his gaze. “I need to talk to you for a sec.”
His voice is hoarse as he asks, and he hopes you can’t hear the nerves that lie beneath his words. Surprised by how much he’s sweating and how his heart races against his ribcage, he swallows to regain some semblance of composure.
“It’s important,” he adds, trying not to stumble over his thoughts. It’s a pitiful excuse, but all that comes to mind amidst the maelstrom of emotion in his head.
“Oh, yeah – of course!” You reply with raised brows and begin to stand. Zoro allows you the room to move, taking a step back from the table. “Sorry, Usopp,” you say as you turn and give him a weak shrug, “Remind me where we left off later?”
“No prob!” The sniper shoots a thumbs-up and the two of you exchange a wave before you turn to follow Zoro away from the lively table and out of the tavern.
Zoro leads you to a quiet spot by the docks nearby, where the salty scent of the sea mingles with the faint tang of fish and the distant hum of the island. He can’t bring himself to look at you, electing instead to focus on the water and the twinkling reflection of the night sky in the soft waves.
“Everything okay?” You ask softly, taking a few steps toward him and assuredly taking note of his hesitance. “What’s up?”
“I missed you,” Zoro replies, fixated on the sigh of the shifting tides lapping at the wooden posts below. “A lot.”
“I missed you too, Zoro, but what’s so urgent?” The concern in your tone is apparent and caring, and normally works to soothe him when his mind runs rampant – but this moment, this situation he finds himself in, it does the opposite.
“No,” Zoro shakes his head, his fingers twitching at his sides. “I missed you - differently from the others.”
“Differently?”
Zoro’s jaw clenches, and part of him wants to jump into the ocean and swim as far away from the island as his arms will take him. The honest admission hangs heavy on his tongue, the weight of the years of denial suddenly threatening to push it out. He pauses, opens and closes his mouth a few times, then finally, with a shaky exhale, he looks you straight in the face.
“I love you.”
The admission hangs between you, the weight of years of suppression. Zoro shifts his weight from one foot to the other, twinges of regret creeping up the nape of his neck.  It takes you a moment to reply, and considering the nature of the confession, it's reasonable. Zoro's nerves feel like hot coals beneath his skin as he watches your face for any sign of an answer.
“...for real?” Your gentle response fills his entire being with a wistful spark of hope.
Zoro's fingers curl into fists. "Yes, for real," he confirms, still not looking up. His heart thuds painfully in his chest, a heavy, leaden weight. All his hopes and fears rest on the outcome of this conversation. He's unsure if he could handle rejection, but he can't go back to the pretense any longer. Zoro swallows, tasting bile at the back of his throat. "I should've told you before now, but I... I'm an idiot.” He lets out a humorless laugh, his voice quiet.
He isn’t sure when you move, but a smaller, softer hand wraps around his – and in an instant, he feels himself relax into your touch. Zoro relaxes his grip, allowing your fingers to entwine with his.
He snaps his gaze towards you, his heartbeat ringing loudly in his ears. You peer at him, a sweet, crooked smile on your lips and a blush across your face. And when your free hand finds purchase on his cheek, Zoro finds himself leaning in. 
You meet him halfway in a genuine, tender kiss that sends a jolt of electricity coursing through him. Zoro's arms wrap around you and pull you close. The world around falls away as you both delight in the embrace. The kiss is gentle, delicate, and filled with longing. It floods him with an unexpected warmth – and for once, he can't think of the past or the future. He's simply lost in the present moment.
When you finally pull away, Zoro can't help but lean into your palm on his cheek with a bit of a dazed smile on his face. Holding onto your hand, his other hand slowly moves to cup your cheek in return. His heart is pounding, his mind a blank slate tinged with overwhelming happiness. He's lost in your gaze, unable to speak, but he doesn't need to. The moment says everything.
"Do you know how much I missed you?" you murmur, lips ghosting his and thumb trailing upward to gently trace the lower half of the scar that now covers his right eye. "How often I thought of you?"
And then you say it - the words he's only imagined hearing you speak.
"I love you, too.”
Zoro's chest tightens, a lump forming in his throat as he meets your gaze, his heart swelling. Words fail him, the raw emotion in his gut silences his voice.  A slow smile spreads across his lips, a look of awe and joy shadowing his features. He doesn't need words. The simple fact that you feel the same is enough to fill him with warmth and peace. 
Leaning in again, Zoro captures you in another deep kiss – a deep and soulful kiss that speaks volumes. He's consumed by the feeling of being with you, of finally being able to express his love. His hand moves to cup the back of your head, pulling you closer, and he kisses you with all the passion and longing he's suppressed for far too long.
You sigh into him, the sound willingly swallowed by Zoro’s growing hunger. Arms wrap around his shoulders and you press yourself into him, the opened-mouthed kiss quickly turning into a twist of tongues dancing together in a frenzied rhythm with audible smacks of saliva mixing with each meeting of your lips. His hand clutches your hair more firmly, his other hand slipping around her waist to pull you impossibly closer.
The gesture is all-consuming, a whirlpool of desire and affection that leaves him lightheaded. For the first time in years, he feels like he's truly alive, his heart beating in perfect harmony with yours.
Slowly breaking the kiss, Zoro's lips ghost over your jawline, trailing down to your collarbone as he breathes in your scent, savoring every moment. He wants to memorize the taste, the feel, and the sound of your breath as his hands roam over your body, his heart beating a furious tempo.
You let out a small gasp when his lips touch your sensitive flesh, your body reacting to his every move. Goosebumps raise in the wake of his fingertips as he nibbles at your neck, causing your grip to tighten and for you to moan softly into his ear. 
Part of Zoro wants to take you here and now, but what remains of his will stops him. He growls into your neck and lifts you up fully and, – with a little assistance from you –  heads in the direction of the ship anchored nearby. The others wouldn't be back for a while, so why not take advantage of the privacy?
You’re weightless in his arms as he carries you away from the bustle of the small island village and towards the deck of the Thousand Sunny. Zoro can feel himself growing hard beneath the fabric of his pants as you kiss and nip along his neck, giggling in his ear when he retaliates with a playful squeeze to your rear and a rumbling growl against your skin.
He wastes little time pushing the door to the men’s quarters open with the tip of his boot, his grip on your hips tightening when he moves to lift you onto the nearest bunk, one hand still clutching your waist while the other travels up under your shirt to caress your chest, deft hands making quick work of unhooking your bra and tossing it aside to be forgotten.
Zoro’s breathing hitches, his eyes dark and lustful as he dips his head to suckle at the swell of your breast. He can feel himself twitching against your thigh, and despite his inexperience, he wants nothing more than to please you. 
He kisses down your body, taking a nipple into his mouth and flicking it with his tongue while his hand roams, finding your core already soaked with desire. He pauses, fingers grazing over your clothed slit and feeling you shiver in pleasure. Zoro murmurs your name, and snakes his fingers beneath the waistband of both your shorts and panties before sliding them down your legs in one motion, leaving you naked and bared before him. His own pants follow suit, quickly discarded next to yours.
Zoro's hand finds its way between your thighs again, spreading your folds with ease, and he lowers his head to kiss you once more, his tongue probing your mouth as his fingers gently stroke your clit, drinking in your soft moans.
"Show me." He whispers just loud enough for her to hear. His expression is a loving one, though she notes the slightest bit of hesitance in his words.
Show me how you like it.
You nod and guide his fingers, taking two of the large digits and easing them in circles on your clit. "Not too rough, though," you say patiently, letting go of him with a soft sigh and an encouraging smile. 
Zoro hums in acknowledgment, his thumb and forefinger doing as you ask, the slickness of your pussy allowing his fingers to move easily as he continues to tease at your clit. His other hand rests on your hip, steadying you as his thumb rolls over the sensitive bundle of nerves, eliciting small moans from you. 
Zoro brushes the tip of his finger against your entrance in an experimental move, and by the way you wreathe and whine, he's urged to continue his work. He slides one past your folds and inside of you, making your toes curl and your back arch.
"Shit–" You sputter out between breathless sighs of desire. "Feels really good..."
One finger becomes two, your inner walls clenching around them as he scissors them in and out of your pussy. There's a wet slosh of sound coming from where you meet, your wetness audibly coating his fingers and dripping down down his wrist. 
Zoro's breath hitches at the sound of your pleasure, his eyes dark with desire as he watches your reaction. He's entranced by how your body responds to him, and he can't help but lick his lips as he continues to finger you. He adds a third, the stretch making you gasp and tighten around him.
His pace increases, his fingers swirling and thrusting within you, and he watches as your body writhes and arches beneath him. He can feel the tension building in you, the way your breath hitches and your eyes flutter closed.
"Do you want me inside you?" Zoro asks, his voice low and thick with need. He's anxious to give you pleasure, but he's struggling to keep himself from joining his fingers inside you.
"Please," you whine, eyes wide and watery with pleasure but red hot with the need for more. "Need you, Zoro."
Zoro's heart beats wildly in his chest, his own need for you overwhelming as he pulls his fingers from your slick warmth and licks them clean before sitting back on his heels to position himself between your legs. He lines his cock up with your entrance and looks into your eyes, the passion reflected in his own.
Without warning, he thrusts forward, plunging deep into your tightness. You're hot and wet around him, and he lets out a growl of satisfaction as he bottoms out. He pauses for a moment, allowing you both to adjust and to revel in the feeling of being connected. He pulls back, slowly at first, then picks up the pace as he leans over you, the headboard digging into the wall with each forceful thrust. Zoro's eyes never leave yours, his gaze locked as if he's trying to absorb every detail of your expression.
Each stroke of his cock against your walls feels heaven-sent, and the taste of you that lingers on his tongue drives him crazy with want. Nails dig into the flesh of his triceps and your back arches, a song of passion belting from between your lips, a serenade made for him and him alone.
Zoro grunts at the sound of your pleasure, his thrusts becoming even more ferocious as he watches your reaction, the sight of you so lost in ecstasy driving him to the brink. He grips your hips, holding you steady as he pounds into you, the sweat glistening on your skin as your bodies collide.
The moonlight trickling in from the window illuminates your body below him. It's a sight better than anything he could dream, your face contorting in bliss and ecstasy, hands clinging harshly onto him as if he'd disappear if you let go. Savoring a feeling that neither wants to forget.
"You're so fucking perfect." Zoro growls, leaning over you to kiss you feverishly, his tongue seeking yours as he fucks you. He can feel the tension building, the way your body tenses and your nails dig into his skin, and he knows you're close. He wants to give you this moment, wants to make you cum as much as he wants to feel it himself.
"Come on," he urges, his voice thick with lust. "Let go for me." The words were a warning, a promise that he wasn't going to last much longer..Zoro increases the pace of his assault, his own release imminent as he watches your face, your eyes half-lidded and flushed with pleasure. Together, you move, driven by the primal need for release.
Zoro's thumb meets your clit, matching the rhythm of his thrusts with the speed of his ministrations. The dual stimulation pushes you over the edge, crying out butchered attempts at his name as your body convulses around him, your orgasm washing over you in waves. Zoro can't hold back any longer, feeling his own climax building as he watches you.
With a roar, he lets go, burying himself deep as he cums, the spasms of your walls milking him as he shudders and groans into your ear, seed spilling inside of you. He pants heavily, leaning over you as he rests on his forearms, his forehead meeting yours. He stays like that long enough to press a quick kiss to your lips before collapsing atop you with a very exhausted, but very relieved sigh. 
You breathlessly hold him close. Cradling his sweaty form to your chest, one hand makes its way into his moss-green tresses to lightly scratch at his scalp. Zoro lets himself relax, letting out a sigh and nestling into your shoulder. He closes his eyes, feeling thoroughly sated in your embrace.
Zoro pulls out of you eventually, gently rolling off your body to rest. He pulls you into his side as he nuzzles into your hair. "I love you." He whispers, his voice soft and tender and almost unrecognizable.
Snuggling into his side, your hand still lazily strokes his head. "I love you too," you reply, voice equally tender, and a smile playing at the corners of your lips.
Your soft touch and tender words soothe Zoro, your shared connection cemented in the aftermath of passion. He wraps an arm around you, pulling you closer as he feels himself drifting off to sleep, a smile still lingering on his lips. The words you whispered echo in his mind, a warm feeling settling in his chest – and together, in each other's arms, you find peace.
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phoward89 · 3 months
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Banner by me, dividers by @saradika-graphics
Based on this ask
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Love Is A Losing Game
The avox stood against the wall, waiting for you to beckon, while you sat in your sunroom with your longtime best friend, Livia. You were at a small table drinking tea and listening to her complain about her toddler, Plutarch.
“Ugh. I swear, I can't even go to the powder room without him following me.” Reaching for a biscuit, your dirty blonde friend sighed, “I told Hilarious that we need to hire a nanny, but he said no.”
She took a small bite of her biscuit as you sipped on your tea. You didn't know why she was so upset about her toddler wanting to spend time with her. And you told her so too.
“You just don't understand how demanding motherhood is, Y/N. Just you wait and see.” Pointing to your round belly, Livia factually remarked, “In a few more months when you pop out Coriolanus’ little brat you'll be singing a different tune.”
“Don't call Cassian Xandros a little brat.” You snippily ordered your friend, causing her to just roll her eyes at you. Setting down your teacup, you decided to change the subject to something that you needed to get off your chest; something that's been eating away at your mind. “I think Coryo's having an affair.”
“He's only been president for a few months, Y/N. If word got out, well, it'd be scandalous and I'm sure his political career would be dead in the water.” Livia told you while nibbling on her lemon butter biscuit. “Do you know with whom?”
“No, but I know he has to be having an affair, Livia. I mean he comes and goes at all hours and half the time he's not even coming to bed; we haven't slept together in a while too.”
“Oh no, now that is a problem.” The dirty blonde socialite sighed. “I bet it's Clemensia Dovecote that he's cheating with. You don't know, since you were a couple grades below us at the Academy, but they were always walking into the school linked arm in arm. Even though they denied it, they looked like a couple back then.” Livia bluntly informed you, picking up her teacup and sipping it.
“Really? I didn't know that.” You honestly told your friend. Reaching for your own teacup, you revealed the name of the person you thought your husband had a thing for back in his Academy days. “Coryo was always with Sejanus back then; I always got the vibe that they were a little bit more than just friends.”
“Oh I hope not. He was district.” Livia spat out; the thought of the president having a past love affair with a district person making her skin crawl.
If only she knew about what went down between him and Lucy Gray. Oh, she'd shit her pants if she knew about that.
You know, of course, since he told you about it after a year of dating. When you had to all but pull his teeth to get him to reveal why he refused to tell you that he loved you; show you anything other than lust and his OCD tendencies.
It didn't bother you.
Correction, him having Lucy Gray as his ex and his failed first love didn't bother you, but the number that she did on him- now that’s what bothered you.
She fucked his head up pretty bad; took you a long time to unfuck it up too. To get him to be able to confess his love to you.
But somewhere deep inside of your soul, you always feared that Coryo was just telling you what you wanted to hear. That he didn't truly love you; that he could turn to somebody else once he got bored of you.
“Yea…but they were close friends. Like brothers” You reminded Livia. “And his death hit Coriolanus hard.”
That was an understatement. Your husband still had nightmares about his fellow comrade’s death. It happened a decade ago, but he was still haunted some nights by nightmares. Those nights you usually had to ride his cock to calm him down so he’d be able to go back to sleep.
He never talked about the nightmares, other than the one time he told you that it was about Sejanus’ death. You never pried, knowing that the Plinth boy's execution was a taboo topic for Coriolanus.
The socialite rolled her eyes, only to suggest, “If you think he's having an affair then you should wait up for him tonight and confront him.” Giving you a look from over her teacup, she added in, “It's what I would do.”
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Coriolanus was exhausted. No, wait, take that back- he was FUCKING exhausted.
Between trying to clean up the fucking mess that older then dirt President Ravenstill left for him and trying to ensure a smooth transition of head gamemaker duties to his successor (a recent University grad that sadly didn't know his ass from a hole in the ground), he was stretched too thin.
Burning the candle at both ends as one might say.
He was barely sleeping; worse he was barely able to spend anytime with you.
You were 6 months pregnant with his first child.
A son.
He felt guilty for being in his office on the opposite side of the presidential palace or at the Citadel, but he didn't have a choice. The games along with trying to keep the country afloat was his top priority.
As much as he wanted to spend his late afternoons and evenings with you, he couldn't. And he wanted nothing more than to fuck you dumb on his dick every night too, but sadly he was just too tired anymore for that either.
When the new Head Gamemaker calls up in the middle of the night frantically asking what to do if an intern falls into a mutt tank…well…yea…that's when Coriolanus knows he has to do two jobs instead of just one.
He's stuck puppeteering the new head gamemaker *cough* telling him step by step how to do is damn job since he fucking fudged his job application and has shit for brains *cough* and running a country that's national bank account’s lower than it should be *cough* looks like President Ravenstill and his cabinet were embezzling funds or something cause the numbers aren't adding up *cough*.
“Yes, well, if you need any more assistance on this matter don't hesitate to call.” Coriolanuse tightly told the Head Gamemaker. The man was grating on his nerves. Before the unqualified idiot could utter a word, the president said goodbye and hung up.
Hung up with a firm, loud, clunk since he was so tired and aggravated.
Unfortunately, the president was always tired anymore. He was even too tired to fuck you these days, which was truly depressing for him since your Coryo felt you were even more beautiful now that your belly's round with his child.
Coriolanus felt that your pregnancy makes you look radiant. Your skin had a glow to it, he felt you look ethereal.
Your tits were full from the milk your body was making in order to feed your son once he was born; he loves your milk heavy boobs. Coriolanus Snow’s a tits and ass man; so your boobs going up by 2 sizes was heaven for him. The president enjoys sucking and massaging them in his large, calloused hands while you ride his cock. Burying his face in them, peppering kisses in your cleavage.
Something his exhaustion has been keeping him from doing.
Also, your ever growing belly (full of the precious life you created during a very passionate and lustful night 6 months prior) made his chest swell with a burning pride. Coriolanus loves kissing your stretch marks and running his hands all over your belly.
He also enjoys whispering to your belly, telling your growing son all kinds of father-son secrets.
But he’s been too tired and tied up with his never ending work to do that ritual.
Half the time he was passing out on the sofa in his office before he could even make it to your room; the other half of the time he was sliding into bed in the wee hours while you were in a deep sleep.
He hated it.
But he has to endure it because he refuses to have the games flop during his first year as President of Panem.
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When Coryo dragged his feet into your large, ornate bedroom he wasn't expecting you to be up, waiting for him. He assumed you'd be asleep, like every other night.
“It's nearly 2 in the morning, Y/N. Why aren't you sleeping? You know you need proper sleep in your condition, my darling rose.” Your husband lectured you, tiredly fumbling to untie his tie.
You decided to do what LIvia suggested. Wait for your husband and confront him. So, when he shuffles into your room, a sight for sore eyes, with the nerve to lecture you about being up, you lost it.
Your eyes narrowed at the president as you snipped out, “Coriolanus, I know you're cheating on me. Who is she? Is it Clemensia Dovecote or somebody else?”
Pulling his tie off and tossing it to the side, he looked at you as if you had lobsters crawling out of your head. You’re accusing him of having an affair. Seriously?
“With how I’m spread too thin, darling, where would I ever find the time for an affair?” Coriolanus chuckled.
He thought this was funny, oh how dare he!
“This isn't funny, Coriolanus! You're coming and going at all hours; we never sleep together anymore. Who is she?!” You yelled at the top of your lungs, watching your husband unbutton his waistcoat and take it off.
The platinum blonde’s long fingers numbly unbuttoned his shirt. His tone was flat and tired as he gave you the blunt answer of, “The she that's taking all of my attention off of you, my love, is the shaky finances of Panem and the Hunger Games.”
All of the air was knocked out of your lungs upon hearing your husband's words. All you could do was blink. “What?” you whispered in disbelief.
Coryo's shirt hit the floor, in the pile his red waistcoat and tie was in. Toeing out of his shoes, he sighed, “Being president and passing the baton for the games to an under qualified head gamemaker, unfortunately, has taken up all my time.” Unbuckling his belt and pulling down his deep crimson pants, he offered up a sincere apology of, “I’m sorry, my darling rose, that my neglect made you think, even for a moment, that I’m being unfaithful to you.” His pants pooled around his long, pale legs, and he gracefully stepped out of them. “Y/N, I truly did not mean for you to feel such a way, my love.”
Watching your husband pull off his socks and toss them to the side, you cried tears of joy. “I forgive you; I'm just happy that it's work taking up your attention and not some whore.”
Coriolanus tiredly made his way over to the king-sized bed you shared and climbed into it. Pulling you into his arms, he let out a puzzled scoff of, “Clemmie? Really, of all people to accuse me of having an affair with it's her?”
“I didn't accuse you of cheating with her; that was actually Livia this afternoon when I told her that I suspected you of having an affair.” You informed your husband as he pulled the blankets over the both of you.
“You told that bitch you thought I was cheating on you?!” Coryo exclaimed, his nostrils flaring; baby blues wide in utter horror.
“Don't call Livia a bitch, Coriolanus.” You reprimanded your husband, only to remind him that, “She's my best friend.”
“I don't know how you're best friends with that shrew, darling.” Coriolanus mumbled mostly to himself, even though you heard him. His large, calloused hand rubbed your ever growing baby bump softly. “Telling Livia your ill founded fears was a mistake. She'll just tell that political reject husband of her’s; he'll be calling up Capitol News 6 with a juicy insider story about the unfaithful president.” Coryo’s tongue popped angrily. “My fake affair’s going to be the the main news headliner tomorrow morning, my darling rose.”
“No, it won't, Coryo.” You assured your husband since you had too much faith in your best friend.
Your husband on the other hand didn't have faith in Livia Cardew-Heavensbee, at all. No, he didn't trust her after the temper tantrum she through when her mother informed her that he was courting you, General Prometheus Byzantine’s step-daughter, and had refused to meet with the Cardews regarding a money match.
Coriolanus never told you about that because he didn't want to taint your friendship with the dirty blonde shrew, who only married Hilarious because she couldn't have him: the adoptive heir to the Plinths fortune.
But now maybe it was time to tell you. Maybe it was time to taint and ruin a girlhood friendship of yours.
Only to ensure that you wouldn't trust anyone that didn't carry the Snow name.
Yes, the only people you could trust were him and Tigris. He was even leery about Tigris’ new lover, Aleka. Eh, but that was because his spies haven't been able to dig up enough information on them for the president to decide whether or not they were trustworthy.
But, he's sure that after he tells you the truth about Livia that you'll be rethinking that friendship.
And when (not if) that article hits the news as the big headliner, he'll make sure to invite Hilarious over for drinks.
Drinks that only one of them will enjoy.
Snow lands on top and he'll make sure that anybody who slanders his good name or makes you believe he's an unfaithful man, when he's actually the most devoted and faithful husband in all of Panem, chokes on their own blood.
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Tags: @kuroosbby001, @purriteen, @poppyflower-22, @meetmeatyourworst, @whipwhoops, @bxtchopolis, @readingthingsonhere,@savagenctzen, @ryswritingrecord, @erikasurfer, @tulips2715, @universal-s1ut, @thesmutconnoisseur, @squidscottjeans, @sudek4l, @wearemadeofstardust0, @mashiromochi, @gracieroxzy, @belcalis9503, @shari-berri, @aoi-targaryen , @whiteoakoak @spear-bearing-bi-witch, @gisellesprettylies @loverandqueenofdragons, @qoopeeya, @mfnqueen1
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tokoumaru · 1 year
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★ liyue boys' voicelines about you!
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feat.childe, zhongli, xiao tags. headcanons, fluff, gender neutral reader, established relationships (for childe and zhongli) word count. 1.9k tw. mentions of fights on childe's part and light injuries on xiao's part.
synopsis. genshin impact boys and their in-game voicelines about you!
voicelines series. part 1: liyue, part 2: mondstat, part 3: inazuma, part 4: sumeru
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childe/tartaglia
About You (Friendship Lv. 4)
(Y/N)? You mean my assistant? Are they finishing up the paperwork I assigned them? Tell me comrade, what might they be doing on this fine day? It's been such a long time since I've last seen them! What do you mean you saw us together by the harbor just last night? Well, aren't you quite keen... To tell you the truth, they're one of my most formidable opponents. They're quite adept at the bow- not as adept as me of course. As for why we spend so much time together... heh, they just so happen to be a close ally of mine.
More About Tartaglia: Closest Companion (Friendship Lv. 5)
There isn't many you can trust while working in an organization like the Fatui, *sigh* especially when most your coworkers are cunning Harbingers. Aside from being my assistant, (Y/N) is one of the only few people I can trust wholeheartedly. They've accompanied me throughout the many battles I've fought, and though they might not be as great of a warrior as me- a given, they're quite the entertaining sparring buddy... when they start getting serious, I can't help but feel a few tingles crawl my back when I see their malicious eyes directed at me.
More About Tartaglia: Childhood Friends (Friendship Lv. 6)
Morepesok was just a small village, everyone knew of each other and their grandparents... (Y/N) had been my only friend back then, before and after I ventured deep into the abyss. Teucer, Tonia, and Anthon just love them! Though, I have to admit I do get a bit jealous of my siblings when they steal their attention for quite awhile. Aside from my family, they may be the only good memories I have of that seaside town. Every spontaneous battle I win, every rash decision I make, they're somehow always there to make things better... the taste of victory could never feel better without them by my side. I'm truly thankful that they've stuck by me for so long... I'll protect them no matter what.
About You: Lovers (Friendship Lv. 10)
(Y/N)... my lover? You could tell from the sound of my voice when I was talking about them? Hah, was I too obvious? Well, It wasn't like I was trying to hide it from you, comrade. It's true, we've been lovers for quite awhile now, and I wouldn't have it any other way! They're quite the sweetheart, I'm sure I've told you about how they accompanied me throughout my entire life. Hmm... You don't get how they could stay with someone like me for so long? What exactly do you mean by that, comrade? Simply put, it's because they love me and I love them of course! And if they do happen to think of leaving… well, as if I'd let that happen. Comrade, one day I will conquer the world, and you'll see my dearest (Y/N) right beside me. If it just so happens that they aren't there to see it... I'll make it so that there won't be any world, person, or god left for anyone to conquer, and not even you can stop me.
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zhongli/morax
About You (Friendship Lv. 4)
There is a small flower shop of the highest quality residing in the outskirts of Liyue Harbor, there lies a quiet but passionate vendor that goes by the name (Y/N). Ever since I had surrendered my duties as the Geo Archon, they have helped me acclimatize to 'mortal' life greatly. Though I may have overseen Liyue's growth to prosperity from the very beginning, there are still some mortal nuances that are lost on a being as old as I am. I truly appreciate their presence and ever-lasting kindness for a newcomer such as I.
More About Zhongli: Favorite Places (Friendship Lv. 5)
I often spend my days at Wangsheng Funeral Parlour, working there as a Consultant for those departed. Although, in rare moments in which I am freed from my duties, you may also find me at Third-Round Knockout or Xinyue Kiosk enjoying a few Liyuen delicacies. Hmm? (Y/N)? The flower shop right next to Wanmin Restaurant? Ah, yes... perhaps I do spend a generous amount of my time there… Just how exactly do I spend so much hours in such a quaint flower shop, you ask? Well, there is only one possible thing one can do in a such a shop— that is to purchase flowers of the most beautiful kind. For who? ...It seems you're quite the curious individual, my friend.
More About Zhongli: The Past and the Future (Friendship Lv. 6)
Although I've resigned myself to 'mortal' life, the memories of acting as Liyue's longstanding Archon are ones that I can never bring myself to leave in dust. There is a flower shop on the outskirts of Liyue Harbour, I am sure you have seen me frequent the quiet place beforehand... May it be Violet grass, Qingxins, Silk flowers, or even rarities such as Glaze lilies, you may find it there. For someone who has lived as long as I have, each object- each flower- has become a reminder of times long ago. Whenever I visit the serenic shop, I cannot help but halt and reminisce about friends whose memories, both pleasant and unpleasant, only live in the flowers they used to love... Deciding to live as 'Zhongli', even if the task may pose to be quite difficult, I have promised to put these matters behind me, such as my contract dictates... Though, looking up from the nostalgic flowers to see (Y/N)'s auspicious smile never fails to remind me that, perhaps, there may still be more to discover for someone such as I, who has possibly witnessed everything there could be.
About You: Lovers (Friendship Lv. 10)
As the longstanding 'God of Contracts', there are many contracts that hold great importance to me. Though, in the centuries I've lived up until now, there is one that reigns above all. The contract with my dearest (Y/N) is one that I hold most close to my heart. What sort of contract, you ask? It is one where only the closest of partners can enact, in mortal terms you may call it 'matrimony'. For someone who has lived through a millennium, I was quite hesitant to proceed with this sort of contract, after all, it was a contract that requires one to dedicate a life's worth of time. However, once I saw (Y/N)'s optimistic eyes at the slightest mention, perhaps I already knew of their answer. Since then, there has not been even the slightest feeling of regret at my decision to dedicate my mortal life to them. Each moment I spend with my dearest is one I will treasure greatly. They listen to each of my long tangents about the history of Liyue with ease... It would provide great relief if I were to spend my last moments in this world by their side.
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xiao/alatus
About You (Friendship Lv. 4)
(Y/N)... It's hard not to know of a persistent mortal with such great tenacity. Unlike other mortals, they seem to lack a sense of danger and most especially, a sense of boundaries. Hmph... their irritating gesture of offering me a plate of Almond Tofu every night is not necessary for a Yaksha such as I, who does not need sustenance to live. They truly have no respect for the ways of the Adepti...
More About Xiao: The Ways of the Yaksha (Friendship Lv. 5)
As the last remaining Yaksha, it is my duty to conquer the demonic spirits that plague the outskirts of Liyue. This responsibility is one that I have been assigned to from the moment I had been saved by Rex Lapis. Though I've dealt with the subject of death for centuries, the karmic debt it brings me only weighs heavier on my shoulders... Yet, that tenacious mortal... (Y/N)... why is it that the weight of my debt disappears in the uncommon moments I speak to them? Tch... it doesn't matter. The karmic debt I’ve accumulated is my burden to carry. A mere mortal could never alleviate nor withstand it... especially not a fragile one such as (Y/N).
More About Xiao: Human Emotions (Friendship Lv. 6)
I'm far from human. I can't make much of human emotions... why does that mortal- (Y/N), go such great lengths to form a bond with me? I do not understand why they persistently come back to Wangshu Inn after I've deliberately ignored their advances... There was one night where their absence caused me a great amount of trouble. At the balcony of Wangshu Inn, the table in which they had often offered me their Almond Tofu was empty. At the same time, I had sensed a great deal of demonic energy at the mountains of Qingyun Peak. Tch... That fragile mortal was caught up in a losing fight between two Mitachurls. How could they be so stupid. I was about to leave once I had ascertained their safety, yet with such audacity did they grip my wrist just to simply give me a single Qingxin flower. How childish. The gesture was completely unnecessary, it was only burdensome. I cannot save them from danger each time they decide to offer me a measly item. This flower tied to my belt? Hmph. I... forget it.
More About Xiao: Human Emotions II (Friendship Lv.7)
(Y/N)... Why does their presence stir such a storm within me. Yakshas have no need for trifling pests such as emotion. I can't fathom why I… greatly desire their company. Hmph, I have no time for such distractions when the perpetual battle I face continues on... Yet, why does the weight on my shoulders only grow heavier when I continue to ignore their presence? Traveler, as you are the closest to mortals, tell me, what must one do to get rid of this burdensome feeling… I can't? What do you mean, I can't? You mean to tell me... the only way to rid of this emotion is to face (Y/N)? Tch. Impossible. A Yaksha who is burdened by a great weight of karmic debt could never sit next to a fragile mortal such as themselves. It is my duty to protect the citizens of Liyue, not bring death upon them caused by my karmic debt. Me? Worried? Ha. Do not judge adepti by your mortal ideals. I am only doing my duty as a protector of Liyue.
About You: Lovers/Companions (Friendship Lv.10)
The mortal concept of emotions- especially love, is something foreign to a Yaksha such as I, who has only known death. The night in which I asked you what I was feeling for (Y/N), Morax- or as he now goes by- Zhongli, had travelled to Wangshu Inn. He had come by just to inform me of his 'matrimony' with a mortal... it had stirred such confusion within me to see such a soft look on his face. Tell me, was that what I looked like when I spoke of (Y/N)? Before he left, Morax told me that it wouldn't hurt to indulge in mortal desires now that Liyue was capable of standing on its own... Although I am an inhumane Yaksha, the feelings that arose whenever I saw (Y/N) were too intense to dismiss... When they asked me to be their 'lover', there was nothing else I could do but agree. Do I regret it? Hmph. Adepti such as myself don't feel emotions akin to regret... perhaps they may feel emotions such as love, unfortunately.
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a/n. tbh this was so hard to write... HELP it was very hard to try and make these voicelines actually sound like them! i had to actually use my brain for once... I TRULY APOLOGIZE IF IT WAS OOC (heavy on xiao)! HELP i think its obvious that xiaos my favourite... but it was also because I didn't know how to make him have a loverasdhjsds. also whenever I typed in the phrase about you I couldnt help but start singing the 1975's about you hehe
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sopiao · 11 months
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könig who is absolutely head over heels for you.
talks about you so much that you’re surprised when his comrades knows quite a bit about you when you drop in for a brief visit.
goes on various and long tangents and rambles about you, sometimes he just forgets he’s talking to other people and just continues his ramble in German.
which leaves his comrades and teammates confused but not wanting to disturb his babbling and just leave him to talk to himself at this point. it’s not until later, in the middle of the night, that he realizes it.
most of his mates can’t even believe him whenever he talks and describes his lover, how sweet they are, the funny interactions and moments they have, and just how drop dead gorgeous you are.
König gets slightly offended but understands that sometimes not even he could believe it that he has such and amazingly beautiful and wonderful partner.
“Know what? I call them right now”
and when you pick up, replying on you laptop that’s sitting on your bed next to you while laying down in nothing but a black tank and his grey sweats (that you love to see him wear), their jaws drop.
“Hallo, leibling!”
“Hey, Ko!”
not only are they just stunningly gorgeous, their voice is just so comforting and energizing to hear. they all just stay quite and witness the conversation between the two.
in the middle of the conversation he just forgets that he called them for the sole reason to prove to his friends that you’re real, and he just skips himself to his room and plops himself on his bed like he’s on cloud nine.
i like to think that this 6’10, pure muscle of a man lays on his stomach and kicks his feet in the air when he talks to you or when he hears you talk, maybe even twirl a lock of hair in his finger.
when you drop by the base to go give him a quick visit before you have to leave for engineering college, both plans overlapping, so you won’t be available when he gets out.
he’s happily waiting by the entrance, rocking himself back and forth on his heels with his arms behind his back, as he bounces with excitement.
when your large truck parks and you hop out of the car, not even bothering to turn off the car, as you run up and meet König in the middle in a snake trap of a hug. tightly snaking his arms around you, as he spins you around. Price and Soap laughing at the very visible height and size difference between the two.
when the large Austrian man let you down back on the gravel road.
you barely reached his chest.
the 141 found it cute and quite wholesome that you had to pull him down by his vest and you pushing yourself up on your tippy toes to give him a kiss on the nose.
when König finally formally introduced you to his teammates, you were very much like him, shy and introverted. König was quite comfortable with them so he was happy to be your voice to them.
the rest of the boys were stunned and slightly nervous as well. hands shaking or face blushing when you individually shook each of their hands, but they still gave you a warm and inviting welcome.
even when their in the common room, either talking or planning their next plan of action for an upcoming undercover mission.
but of course König was more occupied with you, of course, there were no other seats (lie) so you had to sit on his lap, his hands either wrapped around your middle or resting on your hips.
when you both thought that no one was looking or paying attention to you two, you would look up at your boyfriend and he’d cover both of you under his sniper hood to give you a quick peck on the lips and a nuzzle his nose against yours.
omfg
when you sit normally back on his lap and he looks back up to his comrades, and sees all of his friends staring that their with a teasing smirk or a ‘really?’ face. They both covered their face in embarrassment, showing how similar they both are.
no doubt that Soap and Price are teasing the two when they both sleepily walk into the kitchen for a cup of coffee, König walking in shirtless instead it’s on your sleepy figure. jokes and jabs are thrown at the sleepy couple as König just waves them off as he leans against the counter, sipping a cup of coffee as he wraps his arms around you while you lean your back against his chest.
they didn’t really mind you being there, they were happy to see their teammate so happy and energetic, much different from how quiet he is.
when you do leave since you can’t stay for long, he stays on call for you all night while you drive, wanting to make the most of it. he knows he’ll be tired in the morning. but for you? worth it.
by the time it’s 3:52 AM he’s on the verge of drifting off into deep sleep, muttering and mumbling responses, 90% of them not even being in english or coherent german.
you called him to try and keep you awake during your drive, but just knowing he’s there on the other side of the line is enough to keep you content. it’s all about quality time.
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piss-pumpkin · 4 months
Text
Swords and Skeletons (Percy Jackson x reader)
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Child of Hades Reader, ~3.7k words, set ambiguously after Nico turns emo, and before HoO ig
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People said Camp Half Blood would be different. They called it a place where demigods could be free, safe, make friends, be normal for a change, and train to survive in the real world. A few of those were true, you found. There was training, arenas with swords, ranges with bows, and all that. But not once after arriving were you ever made to feel normal. Apparently, children of Hades were treated differently. 
From the moment the three headed dog of the underworld appeared above your head, the others looked at you less like a comrade, peer, or even friend, and more like an omen. You raise the dead one time at camp and people fall into hysterics. If they only knew the shit you were doing before camp. 
You went to the beach, all the canoes were full, all spoken for, no room for you. You grimaced as you walked away. Sure, that may as well happen. The summer had just started and you already claimed your status as an outsiders 
When you walked by the strawberry fields, the gardeners shot you odd looks, the bravest of which were as bold as to say you’d probably end up killing the plants. Like they didn’t know your dad was married to one of the plant and spring goddesses. Sure, why not?
Your first day claimed at Camp Half Blood was proving less than enjoyable. Just yesterday, with some Hermes kid giving you a tour, you were able to learn a few names, have a little fun. Now? Left alone to figure things out. 
A satyr showed you to your cabin, its dark and oppressive structure shrinking you down.  The satyr was quick to leave the moment your hand found the door handle. Typical. You rolled your eyes as you pushed it open.
It was much bigger than it needed to be, and remarkably dark. The few windows were covered with black curtains, and the overhead light shone dimly, as did the candles that were spread around. 
According the Chiron, you had one sibling, a little brother who occasionally came to camp. You curiously approached the one bunk that was in use. Your brother seemed the neat type, the bed was made, with clean white sheets, black blanket, and a single pillow. The dresser beside it was filled with black clothes, even a black version of the standard camp half blood shirt. This guy really committed to the bit. 
The only trace of personality was found in a few Polaroid photos sticking out from between the mattress and the bed frame. You couldn’t help pick one up to look at it. It was a very old black and white photo of a little boy and a girl. They looked like siblings. You put back the photo. 
You barely noticed the room was still dark. Sighing, you made your way to a window to shine a little sunlight in. 
You picked a top bunk on the other side of the room, and set your bag down. Completely moved in. You really needed more stuff. 
When dinner came, you quickly found out that you had to sit alone now. Great. No longer with acquaintances you could hold a pleasant conversation with from the Hermes cabin, who seemed to be getting along just fine without you. Your brow furrowed as you sat down. 
You picked at food. It was all good, the Camp Half Blood magic, and all, but your appetite was nowhere to be found. You halfway glared at the other tables, full of siblings, and even worse, the people who leaned back to laugh with friends at other tables. Maybe there was a good reason your brother didn’t come around often.
There was one guy though, that even in your soured mood, didn’t piss you off. Another person alone at their table. You watched him sceptically as as ate his… blue food, and texted with one hand. They said demigods couldn’t use phones? A bunch of people came by to talk to him as they were leaving the pavilion. Guess he’s popular. 
He glanced up, eyes landing on you, probably sending your gaze fixed on him. Fuck. You were totally staring. You blinked, and shifted your gaze to the table in front of you, and hoped he didn’t notice, or pay much mind. You hastily finished, discarding your plate and retreating to your cabin. 
Yikes. 
                                             …
As it turned out, you were not slick. The next day, when you were avoiding camp activities and the people who now awkwardly shuffled away from you when you tried to approach, you heard a knock on the door.
It was that guy. Of course it was. Who else would it be? Not your satyr, or any of the people from the Hermes cabin who were fine talking to you two days ago, not them. It was the guy who caught you staring at him. And you were here answering the door in your pyjamas. 
”Hey,” he said happily, waving. “I’m Percy.”
You hesitated. “Uh,” you started, standing awkwardly in the doorway. “Hi Percy, I’m Y/n.”
He smiled widely, and gestured behind him. “Do you have anything going on right now? Cuz I’ve been doing some swinging in the arena, I could always show you some stuff if you’re still new to it.”
He seemed rather friendly. You were hesitant to buy it. “Uh, I got a little lesson the other day from… some Hermes kid,” you ambled, crossing your arms. 
He shrugged, “Suit yourself,” he said. “But feel free to stop by,” he started to turn away, but apparently had something left to say, and shit you one more smile. “I saw you had to sit alone yesterday,” he said. “I know it can be kinda hard to be a new camper and big three kid, especially Hades, so like…” he pursed his lips. “Don’t be a stranger, I guess.”
And then he was off, leaving you a little surprised. He was a big three kid too? You stood in the doorway watching him leave for a little longer than you meant too. You slowly stepped back inside. He didn’t seem put off by your staring, at least. But he noticed you were all alone with no friends. You couldn’t tell which outcome would be more embarrassing. 
You looked it a window, and saw a few kids walking down the path. They seemed close, laughing together and telling jokes you couldn’t hear. Ugh. Maybe you did need to talk to people. Rotting in your cabin, lamenting, wasn’t getting you anywhere fun. 
Groaning, you rooted around in your bag, and then the closet. There were spare black shirts. You snickered grabbing one off the hook and finally changing out of your pyjamas. 
The sun was entirely too bright. You squinted as you made your way down the steps, using your hand to cover the light. Where did he say? The sword… arena? You found the first directional sign on the way, and followed it to a fairly large area, it’s ground solid, packed,  and slightly dusty. Around it were mock colosseum stands, for watching the battles, you supposed. At the far side, was the guy, Percy, you now knew, swinging a sword viciously against a dummy. He seemed to be alone. A little odd considering his apparent popularity. 
Sighing, half regretting coming out, you approached. It took him a moment to notice, but he grinned at you when he did. “Oh my gods, you  actually came,” he said, surprised.
You did your best to put on a friendly smile, unsure why that was a difficult task. He’s probably the only one here who didn’t avoid you like the plague. “Uh, yeah,” you laughed nervously. “You said something about sword fighting?” 
He nodded, wiping sweat from his forehead. “Yes,” he declared. “Let’s get you a weapon, I’ll give you the run down.”
You followed him towards a few weapons racks. “Well, I had a brief lesson the other day when I first arrived,” you said mindlessly, unsure why you kept resisting. You stood in front of the weapon rack. “Wait, is that a shotgun?”
Percy stifled a laugh, “yes, but I wouldn’t recommend it,” he said, going on to explain all the reasons why the various guns weren’t good tools. Something about celestial bronze, ammo, and other complaints. You nodded along idly, doing your best to listen. “So, I’d just go with one of the more… classic, weapons,” he finished. 
You eyed them. Sword, dagger, mace, mallet, sickle, scythe, entirely too many options, leaving you paralyzed.
“If you go with the sword, I can probably show you some cool tricks,” Percy chimed in. 
That was good enough for you. You took a bronze sword by the hilt, and raised it. “Wouldn’t it make more sense for me to just fight using my powers?”
”I mean, yeah,” he said, “if that’s something you can do.”
”Yeah,” You said. “I did that that on the day I was claimed.”
”On purpose?” He asked, brow raised. 
You suppressed a laugh, covering your mouth with the non sword hand. “Yeah?” You said, like it was obvious. “Is that something people do by accident?”
Percy started towards the centre of the arena, and you followed as he explained, “A lot of demigods aren’t great at controlling their powers at first.”
You stood in front of him, mirroring his sword stance awkwardly, “well, it wasn’t my first time… I guess I’ve always kind of known I was a Hades kid, even before I knew what that meant.”
Percy pocketed his… pen sword, and came closer to you, moving your arms, gently kicking your leg to signal you to move. He adjusted the way you held your sword, thumb tucked around the handle. “If you hold it like this, you’ll have a better grip, and with wider legs, your more stable,” he said, pulling away again, and assuming the same stance. You didn’t realize you were holding your breath until you exhaled with a sigh once he was gone. 
“If you can use your powers,” he said, wide grin. “Then don’t hold back, that’s what they’re for.”
“Uh, okay,” you stuttered, gripping the sword with white knuckles. “You’re not worried?”
He chuckled, “I mean, a little bit, but no more then I am when I fight Annabeth.” You nodded, and he smiled, and you pursed your lips, because it was a little charming. “Okay,” he started. “How much did they teach you before?”
”Little bit? Stances, I think. And… I know how to swing it,” you said dumbly, now realizing you were probably matched against a pro.
He didn’t judge though, instead moving beside you, and mimicked you exactly. He stepped forward with his front foot, and urged you to do the same. You followed his movement, doing your best to copy him, following his hops, slides, jabs, and slices.
A few half bloods walked by the path as you practised, a few waved at Percy, a couple of them even smiling at you. Proximity to somebody likeable, you supposed. A couple girls and one boy glared at you though, stopping to stare with crossed arms when Percy got close, or laughed at something you said. He didn’t seem to notice, luckily. 
“Okay,” Percy said after a while. “You’ve got the moves now, all the basics.”
”I got the basics,” you echoed, nodding along. You were already a little sweaty, the sun beating overhead and your black shirt wasn’t helping. 
“So do you want to try light sparring?” He asked. 
“Sure,” you asserted. Readying your blade much more confidently than you did before. “Yes,” you nodded again, mentally preparing.
He grinned, “Alright, don’t go easy on me.”
And you didn’t. But you could tell he was going easy on you. You slashed, he blocked, you stabbed, he dodged, you lunged, he parried. Shit, this guy was pretty good. 
You thought back to what he said about powers. Time to get a little fun with it. What did you have under control? Really just summoning the dead, the rest you’d only done by accident, like Percy asked before. 
Percy took advantage of your thinking to quickly slide forward and swing at your side, a blow you were barely able to block, your own blade wobbling as you barely redirected the attack. 
You pivoted back, and jabbed your sword into the ground, opening a vein to the underworld… or something. You weren’t exactly sure how it all worked. 
You had to duck and roll as Percy slashed forward while your sword was down. It appeared he was working your training wheels off. 
A few skeletons popped their heads out of the hole and grumbled, “Got anything good?” 
Fuck. Last time you had food to offer them. “Not now,” you said, dashing to your feet away from Percy and pulling your sword from the packed dirt. “But after this I can get you anything you want!”
Percy laughed, possibly at your desperation, and started to lunge again as the skeletons deliberated and discussed whether they’d help you. 
“Oh my gods!” You shouted, blocking a strike and trying to throw one of your own. Percy seemed to dodge it with all the ease in the world. “Get your pussy asses out here and help me, you useless fucks, there’s good shit in it for you!”
They grumbled, but climbed out of the vein. Five skeletons, you counted as you hopped out of the way of Percy’s sword. “Okay!” You yelled. They were just standing there like assholes. “Fight him!”
The skeletons complied, but not before the apparent ring leader made a snide comment about your tone, claiming you had anger issues.
But the skeletons did fight for you, circling Percy and readying their firsts. They didn’t have weapons, and before you could yell at them to go to the rack, they were already attacking, flailing at Percy wildly. 
You were allotted a moment to catch your breath as Percy dealt with it. Even without weapons, they were doing an alright job, but Percy was quick to react and form a new strategy. He ducked out of their circle and beheaded one of them. The skeleton groaned out a complaint as the skull rolled towards you. 
You pursed your lips. Percy used every opportunity you gave him to strike, even if it was cheap. Your turn. You crept behind him as he dealt with your small army, and raised your sword.
But fuck, was Percy reactive. He turned on a dime and swept your leg, sending you tumbling to the ground, knocking the wind out of you with an oomf. Groaning, you rolled over on your side and wheezed out what was left of your breath, and did your best to suck in another.
”Oh, shit, Y/n, are you alright?” He asked quickly, kneeling down beside you and discarding his weapon. 
Before you could nod, the skeletons whacked him out of the way. Oh right. Percy was sent tumbling to the ground, completely unready for the attack.
He scrambled to grab his sword again, but with a little strength, you waved off your undead defenders. “It’s cool guys,” you wheezed, still in the ground.
They looked at each other dumbly. “Can we have our food now?”
You glared and coughed. “Not now, go back in the hole, I’ll get you later,” you spat.
They had a few complaints, but eventually crawled back in the hole, as requested. And Percy was right back at your side, sword gone, water bottle in hand and offering it to you. “I’m sorry,” he gasped, offering you a hand. You took it, and he pulled you up to a sit. “I got a little carried away,” he admitted, handing you the bottle.
He looked at you with concern in his eyes, and you coughed once more. Hopefully the last time. “I’m good,” you managed, shooting him a smile. Or at least trying to.
”Do you think you need to go to the infirmary?” He asked.
You shook your head. Your breath was already coming back, and other than that all you had were a few bruises. “It’s fine, really,” you said. 
He looked like he doubted you, but he said nothing, instead pressing his lips together, and slumping down to fully sit beside you. “I started to forget this was your first time fighting.”
You laughed, and it only hurt a little bit, “That means I must be pretty good, right?” You screwed open the cap of your water bottle, and took a drink. One gulp and you were suddenly aware of the dryness in your throat, and had to down half of it to quench yourself.
Percy smiled, a water bottle of his own in his hand. “Hey, you’re not bad for a newbie,” he laughed. “Sorry again. I can let you beat me to make up for it, if you want.”
You choked out a laugh, “You won’t have to let me next time, alright?”
He laughed. ”I’ll hold you to that,” he smiled, taking a swig of his water and wiping away sweat. “You really did hold your own.”
You nodded, unable to form words for a moment. You gasped for breath after choking a gulp of water. “Thank,” you heaved. “For helping. Couldn’t have survived more then a minute without you.”
He smiled softly, “it’s no problem.”
”You’re the only one to even try.” The bitterness from earlier was creeping back. Percy was a friend, now, you were certain. The only one. 
He pursed his lips, and looked at the ground. “Yeah…” he started. He looked like he had more to say, but seemed to trail off. 
“I appreciate the effort,” you said, lightly kicking the hilt of your sword. 
He nodded lamely, “It’s no problem, really.” He sighed, and looked around at the empty arena, and the trees and fields surrounding it. “I have some friends that’ll get to camp soon for summer, they’re school and… stuff… ends a week after mine,” he said, looking straight ahead. “They’re cool, you’ll get along. Not everyone is scared of a Hades kid.”
You looked at him, eyes wide. “Uh, that’s good to hear,” you managed. “I can’t say I wasn’t disappointed by… everyone.”
He looked over at you, and you fought the urge to look away, like he caught you staring again. “They’ll come around when they realize you’re cool,” he assured. Then you had to look away, because your lips were being tugged up in an embarrassingly large smile. 
“I hope so,” you said timidly, smiling at your shoes.
Percy laughed, “People were weird around me, too, when I first came to camp,” he admitted, fidgeting with his pen. He twisted and spun it through his fingers, only occasionally dropping it. “Clarisse wanted to kill me, Annabeth was stalking me, a bunch of people were kinda scared of me? And I always had to sit alone at dinner.” He said, faint smile on his lips, like reminiscing. “It was a lot, I get what you’re going though… kind of.”
You nodded along with his story. “And… you managed to make friends with them anyway?” 
Percy laughed, “Well with Clarisse I’d say it’s still up in the air, but I guess we’re more friends then we are enemies nowadays.”
You smiled, staring at your shoes. “Well, that’s good,” you smiled softly. 
“The same thing will happen to you, done worry,” he said, lightly punching your shoulder. You snickered at his touch, punching him right back. 
“If you say so,” you giggled. Your black shirt was damp with sweat, and stuck to your back. “I’ll try my best.”
He shook his head, “you won’t have to, they’ll like you as is.”
You heart fluttered a moment. You were really starting to get why people glared at you earlier, for spending so much time alone with this guy.  You smiled, doing your best to not feel awkward. “Thanks, Percy.”
He smiled, and stood up, dusting himself off and offering you a hand. Once again, you took it, and this time noticed his callouses, probably from years of this exact type of training. He had a strong grip. “Let’s say we’re done sword practice for today, okay?” 
“Yeah,” you agreed, picking up your blade and bringing it back where you found it.
You walked together to the dining pavilion. You had actually worked up an appetite today. The place you felt so alone last night, you now approached with a friend, and the promise of a friend group. And you got a few more sceptical looks from other campers, but that all melted away when Percy would wave or snap a finger gun at them. 
And you realized your previous judgement was wrong. Camp Half Blood might not be so bad, and maybe you could feel okay. Despite the skeletons, this might have been the most normal day in a while. Maybe Camp Half Blood would be different. Not because of the place, the god overseeing it, or any of that. But because Percy was different. Apparently his friends to. 
You broke off from him to find your table and get a plate, and this time, didn’t feel too bad about staring at him. You realized that table was the Poseidon table. Definitely one of the big three gods. He caught you staring again, and this time he waved, and you glanced around. 
You got up, plate in hand and walked over. “Do we like, half to sit at our table, or…?” you asked, tilting your head side to side. You couldn’t help look at his food, all of which was blue.
He looked around, eyes wide, “Well it’s against the rules to sit at another one…” he said, looking at the other tables, many full. “But, like,” he said, “it’s not a rule I haven’t broken before.”
You smiled, sitting across from him, “good enough for me,” you shrugged. You got a few weird looks. Just a couple. But dinner was always better with a friend. This summer was looking to be a good one.  
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I actually got this one done in like a single day,,, that’s not usual for me. *mwah*
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flametrashiraarchive · 10 months
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So, since @desi-the-blue-eyed-kakushi fed me real real good with her Muzan smut I wanted to write something in exchange, and as per usual I got carried away and the Giyuu "blurb" I promised became nearly 3k words of smut and feelings.
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Stay With Me
Giyuu Tomioka x F!Reader. Childhood friends to lovers. A lot of handholding.
NSFW below the cut. MDNI
It began innocently. 
You and Giyuu were just kids, given barely enough time to catch your breath and begin processing your grief after final selection when you were sent on your first mission together. The fight was messy and hard. Other slayers died. You survived, and that was a burden you both would always carry.
By the end of the fight, the pair of you were so exhausted you could barely stand. Giyuu's sapphire eyes stared at the snow-covered ground as the demon's body crumbled to ash and was lost to the wind. Your comrade’s bodies remained along with the guilt. The weight of everything sat atop you both, crushing and relentless; the loss and responsibility far too great for hearts so young to bear. 
You were hurting but so was he. Giyuu’s heart has been hurting since the day he emerged from that accursed mountain and stood unblinking in the wisteria grove. Back then you hadn’t known how to comfort that scared, silent boy, but as he sat beside you on that first mission, you reached out and offered him simple solace. You held his hand.
“Giyuu,” you said, “stay with me. It’ll be okay.”
His hand was small and trembling back then, calluses barely formed and skin peeling where the hilt of his blade had rubbed away the top layers. The skinned peaks of his little knuckles broke your heart, even though your hands were just as small and battered.
His hand just hung loosely in yours as you curled your fingers around it. But he didn’t try to pull away. He simply let it be. 
You kept a hold of his hand all the way back home.
“Thank you,” he said solemnly as you finally parted ways at a fork in the road. Those were the first words he had ever spoken to you.
As he walked down the road toward his village, your hand flexed around empty air. You missed the warmth. 
The next mission you were sent on together ended in much the same way. And the next. And the next. 
It became a habit. He would come to your side when the fight drew to a close, his hand nudging yours, inviting you to take it. He never spoke much– which you didn't mind at all; his presence was comforting enough for you. Some said he was weird. Others that he was too haughty to speak. You quickly silenced those whispers. 
Giyuu was just quiet and sad, carrying so much on his shoulders. And though you barely knew a thing about him, he was your friend. So, after every mission you found yourselves on together, after every death, you held Giyuu’s hand.
But the years passed and he climbed the ranks faster than you did. The silent boy became a stoic man; his hand feeling larger, rougher, and heavier after every mission. Before long your fingers couldn't surround his fully, but you still tried. And despite the strength of his grip on the hilt of his blade, he remained passive in the gesture, his fingers never once curling to squeeze yours.
Then, Giyuu became a Hashira, tasked with eradicating demons far stronger than you could even attempt to fight. Your missions together grew fewer and farther between.
You missed him; missed the weight of his hand in yours, the constant comfort of his presence, the deep blue shade of his eyes. A hollow, almost painful feeling surged in your chest wherever you thought of him, but there wasn’t time to dwell. There were demons to kill, lives to save. You took the ache and pushed it down, burying it beneath your responsibility. 
And then the time came when you were charged with leading a squad of lower rank slayers on a mission. Your quiet friend was engaged elsewhere, and at that point you hadn't seen him for months. Perhaps you never would again.
You tried not to think about him.
The mission went badly. Your entire group was wiped out. All of them, even the kids you'd silently sworn to protect from harm. The grief and the guilt were crushing. If only you'd been a split-second faster, if only you'd stood an inch the the left, if only your instincts hadn't told you to duck.
You sent your crow to fetch help, and tortured yourself with what-ifs, sitting on the earth in that forsaken forest. Waiting… surrounded by shrouded little figures. Two days later a troop of kakushi arrived to clean up and recover the bodies as you stood numb, staring… lost.
You were so close to disassociating entirely that you almost missed the glimpse of Giyuu's haori in the corner of your eye. Even when you registered what you had seen, you doubted your senses. Why would he be there? There was no need for a hashira; the demons were all gone. But no… your grief-stricken mind hadn't lied. He was there. For you. 
He approached you silently, standing by your side, his knuckles brushing against the back of your hand. A moment later he curled his fingers around yours, firm, reassuring, but so gentle.
"I heard what happened and came as soon as I could,” he said. 
"I should have protected them." Your voice trembled.
"I know it hurts. You can't blame yourself." His hold on you tightened. "Not even for a moment."
"Giyuu–"
His lips parted for a moment at the sound of his name coming from your lips, but he quickly recovered his composure. "Come with me."
Down the mountain he led you, away from the horrors, his hand cradling yours the entire way. His grip never once faltered. Even when you reached a village tucked away among the foothills. He brought you to a house whose door was painted with a wisteria seal. 
He had the mistress of the house fetch a doctor to check over your injuries, which were miraculously minor, and told her that yes, you would require food and tea when you couldn't summon the words yourself. To your surprise, he knew exactly how you liked your tea brewed and what foods you liked, even though you had never talked about it. It seemed he had paid close attention to your preferences over the years. 
He stayed by your side, guiding you gently through that difficult day. When the time came for you to rest, your hands remained linked across the space between your futons.
The sounds of his soft, slumbering breaths lulled you to sleep. And for the first time you could remember, you slept well.
When morning came, you awoke to the warm, comforting security of his embrace, your face pressed to his shoulder, and his fingers still entwined with yours. Sometime during the night you had rolled across to his futon and burrowed into his arms. 
With a gentle murmur he began to wake and opened his eyes a little; a sliver of deep blue appeared half-concealed beneath his thick black eyelashes.
His breath audibly caught in his chest at the sight of you curled against him, but he didn't move. Neither did you. 
Giyuu's shallow breaths fanned across your brow as you gazed into his eyes, caught in the duality of wondering if you had unintentionally crossed a boundary and feeling as though you were exactly where you were supposed to be.
"Is this okay?" you whispered.
He nodded once, and his hand gently tightened around yours. "Please… stay with me."
Heart thrumming against your ribs, you raised your interlocked hands to your lips and pressed a slow, tender kiss to each of his scarred knuckles. “Always.”
A sharp exhale blew across your forehead. You heard him swallow before he mirrored the gesture, his lips brushing against your aching hands, as soft and tender as new leaves warmed by morning sun. And when he had kissed each knuckle, he pressed a long, slow kiss to the pulsepoint of your wrist, closing his eyes, pulling in a deep breath.
Outside the world carried on as normal; birds sang, people chattered, carts rolled down the streets, but in your shared sanctuary everything changed. You repaid the kiss to your wrist with a kiss to his shoulder. He gave you an achingly soft kiss to your temple. You pressed your lips to his cheek, and he exchanged it for a kiss to the very corner of your lips which curved into a smile to mirror his own.
You were both breathless, pink-cheeked and dizzy with trepidation as the space between you closed and he touched the very tip of your nose with his. The warmth of his breath against your lips stirred up butterflies in your stomach. The hazy, almost drunk look in his eyes made your chest tighten. 
Bringing up his palm to cup your cheek, he stroked his thumb along its curve. He closed his eyes and kissed your lips; softer and lighter than mist at first, then deeper, and deeper. You might have missed the quiet moan which escaped him if not for the vibration against your fingertips which pressed lightly to the hollow of his throat.
Kisses cascaded between you, each deeper than the last. Giyuu moaned again as you slid your tongue over his bottom lip, opening his mouth to permit your entry. With every new sensation he grew bolder, pressing his body against yours, sliding his hand down to your thigh to hitch it over his hip, rolling you onto your back with his weight and pressing you down, once more interlocking his fingers with yours.
The soft smile Giyuu had given you as you exchanged kisses faded, replaced by a silent intensity as he rocked his hips against you, shivering at the sensation. Both of you were clad in thin pajamas, and the shape of his body, as well as the heavy swell of his erection were unmistakable. He groaned as he felt the intoxicating heat of your pussy through your nightclothes, both of you desperately craving closeness in any form. 
“Please…” he whispered, the only word his mind could summon as he pressed his forehead to your shoulder, fighting with the compulsion to keep rubbing his cock against you.
Heat tingled on your cheeks as you nodded in consent. “Yes.”
You were no less desperate, wetness soaking through the fabric of your pajamas as he grinded against you again. 
You were both functioning on instinct as you pulled off your shirts, and Giyuu’s lips closed around your nipple, lapping at it with his tongue. He lifted his hips and the pair of you pulled down his pajama pants, freeing his erection. It wasn’t the first you’d seen, but it was by far the prettiest– gently curved toward his belly, crowned with a sweetly blushing tip and adorned with serpentine veins. It was also the largest you’d seen. By a long way. 
He must’ve noticed the widening of your eyes, or the trepidation written across your face at the sight of it, because he released your nipple and glanced down with a worried expression which made your heart ache.
“You’re big,” you explained, wrapping your hand around it and giving him an exploratory stroke. 
A choked cry burst from Giyuu’s lips as his cock twitched against your palm and a white rope of cum shot from the tip, spraying over your stomach. He hurried to clean it up with his pajama shirt and collapsed into you, burying his face against your neck, red with shame and arousal. “Sorry, I’m so sorry. Oh, Gods, I didn’t mean t–I’ve never felt anyone touch–”
“Giyuu…” You placed your hand on the back of his head and stroked his hair, gently and shushing him. “Stay with me, it’s okay.”
His breaths blew hot and heavy against your collarbone, each one accompanied by a ragged whimper until the sensation of your fingers threading through his hair calmed him. “I don’t think I’m done,” he said, lifting himself up and glancing down at his cock. He was still erect, a pearl of cum dripping from the tip. “I…don’t want to stop… please…”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. Please don’t stop.”
You smiled and spread the cum over the blushing head with your thumb, arousal flushing your chest as his face darkened and his eyes fluttered shut. As much as you craved his touch, watching Giyuu fall apart was the most beautiful and delicious thing you had ever witnessed, and a part of you wanted that again and again. 
But Giyuu’s fingers gave yours a reassuring squeeze and then let go. He drew back away from your hands to kneel between your thighs. Inch by inch, he removed your pajama bottoms, kissing every bit of skin he exposed; your lower belly, your hips, your thighs, down to your knees. He removed the garment completely and glanced at your rosy face before his gaze fell reverently to your pussy. 
His lips were maddeningly soft as he kissed your cunt slowly, his tongue delving into your entrance as his groan curled your toes. His eyes flicked up to you, gaging your reaction before he traced the shape of your pussy lips, with his tongue. After each experimental caress his eyes returned to your face, so desperate to please, to give you everything he could. 
He lapped his tongue against your clit and your hips bucked toward him. “Fuck, Giyuu– that... Gods, yes–!”
Oh, there was nothing of the shy, quiet boy in his eyes then. Seeing your reaction, knowing he was pleasuring you well, tilted his lips into a smirk before they returned to their newfound purpose of driving you to absolute ecstasy. The blush on his cheeks spread as he licked at your clit, breaking away to breathe and circle it with the tip of his nose before continuing his kisses. His hot, wet mouth against your slick skin applying such divine pressure you couldn’t help but place your hand on the back of his head and sink your fingers into his thick, black hair, silently encouraging him to go on.
His name tumbled from your lips as you fell apart, grinding against his mouth. He savored every drop of your essence. Everything was new and fascinating to him; the way your thighs tensed and trembled, the powerful throb of your muscles as you rode the waves of your orgasm. He adored it. He wanted to give you more. More pleasure, more kisses, more love. He needed it. 
 As you came back down to earth, Giyuu kissed your pussy with such affection and tenderness your heart ached. He desired you, deeply and truly.
“I want–” he began, losing his voice to his shaking breath. “I want to be closer to you… can I…?”
You sat up, still trembling, anchoring your hands on his shoulders as you kissed him. The taste of you remained on his lips, mingled with the comforting scent of him. You wanted it too. You needed to be closer, to feel him inside you. 
Pulling him back down, you stroked a hand up the back of his neck as the other pressed his cock between your folds, coating the tip of it in your slick before pushing it into you.
Despite the fact he had already cum, he was entirely unprepared for sensation of fucking you. His back arched, pressing his pelvis firmly against yours, bottoming out in you suddenly and eliciting a cry from both of you as his feet slipped against the futon for purchase.
“F—fuuuck,” he gasped, lowering his head and gritting his teeth as his arms trembled beneath him. It was all too much. 
His body pressed to yours entirely, craving intimacy and closeness. He didn’t thrust–he couldn’t– he simply ground his hips against yours, the base of his cock rubbing against your clit as he gasped and the crease in his brow grew deeper. He was hanging on by a thread, overwhelmed and desperate to hold on, to make it last, to–
“Giyuu,” you whispered, placing your hand on his, “stay with me.”
He nodded, intertwining his fingers with yours and pulling in a breath. “Always… always.”
You held each other’s hand; that simple, innocent gesture of love and comfort, now more meaningful than ever. For years you had shared grief and guilt, loss and loneliness and the sweet comfort and solace you found in each other. And now you shared this. 
Giyuu Tomioka, that quiet boy whose hand once trembled in yours, now held firm and just as securely as you did him.
795 notes · View notes
ichatake · 24 days
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Hii! Can I request a Kakashixreaderxobito fic where the reader is helping Obito “re enter” society and they basically become best friends( but Kakashi starts to feel weird about it because he actually fell for the reader too (but refuses to accept love because duh) ya know, some angst to get through the week 🕺 I hope that makes sense hahaha thank youuu so much! 🫶
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Requests are open! (Request rules)
A/N: This is one of my longest works I’ve ever made tee hee. I really hope you enjoy!! (Sorry it seems a little rushed :( )
Summary: Obito, after surviving the war was allowed back into the village. You made it your mission to make sure he gets completely rehabilitated. However, a certain someone gets jealous at the loss of attention.
Pairing: Obito x reader x kakashi
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It was a process. Everything that came after the war was a process. Great ninjas were lost, and some were found. Heartbreaks and heartwarmths were felt by all the people who were affected by this dreadful event. However, they sought to move forward, and push the formidable thoughts away. Because there was no time for regret, but only determination to bring back the villages—the families that were caught in the hellfire.
You had thankfully survived the war right along with some of your comrades. You had lost some to the Ten Tailed beast, but you knew the only way to honor their lives was to remember them for the outstanding ninjas they were. They had fought their final battle alongside you, and it was time for them to rest as the brave heroes they were. Your heart had been shattered by everything that had occurred—the deaths and the revelations. The revelation of the man who seemed like the spitting image of a boy you once knew. A kind, sweet boy that strived to become the Hokage. A boy with dreams so big, he’d do anything to achieve them. Obito Uchiha.
It shattered you to see who he had become, and why he had become this new person. It hurt how he didn’t think of himself as Obito Uchiha, but as someone else. He lived as someone else. It broke you a little, because you couldn’t wrap your head around this. How could this man—the boy you once admired when you were both at the academy—become so heartless. You couldn’t understand it. However, as if the universe was trying to put the pieces back in place, Obito had a change of heart. You thank Naruto for this—you didn’t know how the boy did it, but he always managed to get into people’s hearts. And just like Sasuke, Obito was welcomed—with very hesitant open arms, back into the leaf village.
Of course, this wasn’t an easy process. There were still people who didn’t trust him, and wanted nothing to do with him. It was a hard decision to make, but everyone deserves a second chance. So, the decision was made. He would be welcomed back to the village on the conditions of having someone watch him at all times—or as they called it—being under supervision. This was, to Obito, reasonable. He had been one of the main causes of the war, so the least he could do was accept this with a good heart. The difficult part was searching for someone who would actually agree to watch him. They needed a strong ninja. One that could put Obito in his place if he ever did anything remotely threatening. They thought Kakashi would’ve been the perfect candidate, but he was now the Hokage.
However, they never expected you to volunteer. You were a great ninja. Strong, smart, truthful. You were fit for the job, sure, but they were hesitant to just let you supervise him. But, after some convincing, you were allowed to take Obito under your wing, and trust me, it was a hard process. This man had been socially secluded. He was hated by most of the villagers, and he could see it. Anytime he walked down the roads of Konoha, the people would glare and snarl at him. He was a monster to them, and he knew that. He was difficult to crack open. I mean, did you really expect him to be just like he was when he was a kid? Of course not, you knew better than that.
You would always notice how his eyes landed on the ground, and he walked with his head low. You also knew he was slightly embarrassed of his scars. They were permanent proof of everything that had happened since the beginning. How could you get him used to society again? Had you volunteered to do this with blind eyes?
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“Are you hungry?” You asked as you searched around in the kitchen. You didn’t think the ‘have him under your supervision at all times’ rule was going to be this strict. I mean, he was living with you now. It’s been about two weeks since he’s been in your house, and he’s still tense. The unfamiliar atmosphere was just… not easy to get used to. At least for him. He wasn’t used to people, or kindness, or just… this.
“No,” he mumbled while he sat tensely on the dining chair. He looked like a black dot on a white sheet of paper. He didn’t quite fit in anywhere. You’ve tried to get him to speak more, but the most you get out of him a day is a few polite sentences. That’s it.
You frown, looking back at him as he looks out the window, “well you have to eat something. You can’t just go without eating for long hours,” you say as you lean on the counter, “how about we get some ramen, I bet you’d—,”
“I don’t want to go out,” he quickly cut you off, his head snapping towards you. Although the action might’ve seemed rude, his tone was soft, and… tired. He genuinely didn’t want to go out. Not that it surprises you. This isn’t the first time he’s refused to leave the house.
You sigh and rub your face, not out of frustration, but because you were thinking of a way to convince him, “I know that you don’t like going out—I understand, but you’ll make no progress being stuck in here with me,” you look at him to see a reaction, but his face still held that frown you hated to see. “I mean, sure, you can stay here if you want to, but you already know I’m not good at conversation. I’m pretty boring,” you chuckle, your attempts to lighten the mood were pretty bad.
You walk over to the dining table and sit across from him, crossing your legs and looking out the window, “you’ll have more fun outside than in here. Unless you want me to bore you with some of my life stories,”
His brow was raised with curiosity, his interest being peeked, “Maybe not,” he says and sits a little straight, his body turning to face you. You were surprised at this, just a little. He had never made an effort to keep the conversation going. He usually just stayed quiet or gave dry responses.
“Oh come on, you definitely don’t want to hear that,” you chuckle nervously, but his eye never left yours. “We don’t know that,”
“Okay then…,” you pause for a moment before continuing what you were going to say, “I’ll tell you about a few things, and if you're not bored out of your mind, we can stay here for the rest of the day. If you are, however, we’re taking a walk,” you say, although you knew that even if he was fed up with your blabbering, he’d still prefer that over going out. With a nod, he agreed to your offer and listened attentively.
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Hours had passed since the offer. It turns out, you weren’t really bored at all. At least, in his eyes. You two hadn’t spoken since his ‘death’ so he had missed out on a lot of things. It was interesting to hear all of the stories you had. You were… cool. He thought. Yeah, you weren’t half as bad as he thought you were, no offense. He caught himself wanting to know more, nodding and interrupting you sometimes to just ask about certain things. To you, this was a massive win! He seemed to be getting used to you, and he was warming up a little.
“So you teach?” He asks, amusement laced his voice, “what? Is that really absurd?” You raise a brow, crossing your arms slightly while he gently waved his hand over his face, “No, no, I just remember you as a bad teacher,”
“A bad—excuse me?” You gasp with fake offense, which made him crack a smile. Your heart almost stopped because this was the first time he smiled since he got here. “I’m just saying, remember that time I asked you to teach me about a specific Jutsu?” He asks and you nod your head, “well, I have great memories of you shaking your head in disappointment and telling me I was doing it all wrong,” he looks at you and almost cracks a chuckle,
“Okay, I was young alright? I didn’t have the patience I have now,” you chuckle and shake your head, “so, for your information, I’m a very good teacher,”
He made an expression that screamed ‘suuuure’, which made you laugh, “oh, come on, don’t look at me like that,”
He shrugs, “I’ll believe that when I hear it from your students,” he says, not expecting anything to come from it, but a lightbulb had just been lit in your mind, “Alright, then let’s go talk to them,”
His eye suddenly widens as you say this, “what?” He watches you as you stand up and grab your keys. “Lets go talk to them so you see what a good teacher I am,” you say with your hands on your hip.
“I— I didn’t really mean it like that. It was just a joke—,”
“Joke or not, you deserve to meet them. Come on, they’ll love you,”
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With a lot of convincing, you had gotten Obito to go outside. He was once again going into shut off mode. He didn’t speak and his eyes were glued to the ground. However, you wanted him to look forward to going out, so you tried your best to make him comfortable. “You see, they’re the best thing that ever happened to me,” you say to catch his attention. He slightly looks up from the ground, to look at you. You were a few feet ahead of him, guiding him though the village. “This one boy, he really reminds me of you,” you look back at him, only for him to look back at the ground. “How so?” He asks quietly.
“Well, he’s very stubborn. Always having a rivalry with his teammate and—,” you stop yourself and clear your throat, “he’s just like you in different ways,” she says and stops in front of Ichiraku. Two silhouettes sat inside. “Ah, here they are,” you say as you enter, looking back at Obito with a reassuring smile. He looks at you and hesitantly enters the shop, looking at the two boys who were sitting on the other side.
They look back at you and one of them grins, greeting you loudly while the other sits calm and politely says hello. The loud one had thick black hair, round dark eyes and a contagious smile, while the quiet one was quite the opposite. It made Obito… uncomfortable. No, not because he didn’t know them or anything, but the similarities between them and Obito and Kakashi were unsettling.
“I thought you weren’t showing up,” Toko, the loud one, whines, “I’m not surprised, she’s always late,” Kenji, the quiet one says. His nose was buried in his book while his friend rolled his eyes.
“Well I’m here, aren’t I?” You chuckle and stand aside, “I’m here with a guest,”
Kenji lowers his book in curiosity, his pale eyes falling onto Obito with a monotone expression. It reminded him so much of Kakashi. “A guest? Where?” Toko asked, before he looked at the obvious answer right in front of him. “Oh—Oh!” He exclaims, his eyes slightly wide. “You’re—youre,”
“Obito,” you say, “Obito, this is Toko and Kenji,” you introduce them, earning an awkward ‘hey’ from Obito, and the same with Kenji. However, Toko immediately stood up in his seat, “I have so many questions,” he says with bright eyes, “I never thought I’d see you in person so soon,”
Obito was taken slightly aback, he wasn’t expecting such a reaction, and to be honest, the boy kind of reminded him of himself. “Sit down Toko,” Kenji scoffs, but it was obvious the boy had some questions of his own.
“Now, now boys, I don’t think Obito feels comfortable answering questions just yet. He’s still getting used to things and—,”
“It’s okay,” he cuts you off before you continue. He sat down beside Toko, who seemed like he was shaking out of excitement. For the first time since Obito got here, he felt… visible. Like he wasn’t being judged by anyone. On the contrary, the boys looked at him not with disgust, but interest.
“Are you sure? You don’t have to,” you reassure, worried that he might be doing this because he felt forced to, “I’m sure,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
The night went on smoothly. You were surprised at how much Obito talked—heck, he talked more with your students than with you! The conversation ranged from different types of Jutsus, to the sharingan, to the Uchihas. You had been worried all night that Toko might ask something too personal that would make Obito uncomfortable, but to your surprise, he seemed to be very at ease. Even Kenji had begun to ask some questions, to your surprise.
Of course, the night was coming to an end, and the boys needed to leave. They said their goodbyes and left, making you sit there with Obito. You were silent for a few minutes before you looked at him, “Are you okay?” You asked, concerned that one of the boys asked him something offensive.
“Yeah,” he says and looks at you, his eyes wandering your face and his lips moving as if to say something. You wait patiently for him to speak, tilting your head to the side, “what is it?”
His lips press against each other, turning them into a flat line before he finally speaks, “there’s two of them, aren’t there supposed to be three?” He asks, his eye staring deep into yours.
“Oh..,” you say and look down for a moment, “yeah, there’s supposed to be three,” you look at your nails, trying to find them interesting as the topic makes you a little saddened.
“Then what happened?” He asks curiously, not catching the glimpse of your smile fading slowly. Now it was your turn to bite your lips. You didn’t know how to bring this up because you never liked bringing it up. No one ever asked before either, because the whole village knew what happened.
“We uh… we lost her,” you say with grief, “on a mission,”
“Oh… I’m sorry,” he says and shook his head, “I shouldn’t have asked—,”
“You didn’t know. It’s okay,” you smile reassuringly and pay for the meals. “I’m okay. And so are the boys. They’re strong,” you stand up and look outside, “it’s getting dark, we should probably head back home,”
“…yeah,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“So, you haven’t made any progress?” The silver haired man you know as Kakashi asks from in front of you. Considering he had become Hokage almost immediately after the war, you two barely got to see each other. Obito was currently getting tested at the infirmary for… who knows what. Kakashi didn’t give details about it.
“No, that’s not what I said,” you furrow your brows, “he’s having a hard time getting around. He doesn’t like going outside because people treat him nasty—,”
“And rightfully so. (Y/N), you might not get it, but this is the man who almost wiped the earth clean,” he says in a serious tone, “I know you keep thinking he’s like he used to be—the Obito from the past, but he’s not,”
“He’s trying—,”
“He’s a criminal,” you were slightly taken aback by his tone. You had never heard Kakashi speak about someone so roughly, and you’ve known him for years. You had become good friends since he became a teacher—so it really did surprise you. “You can’t be treating him like some old friend. You must take this seriously,”
“Everyone deserves a chance. He was your friend. You know him better than anyone here,” you say as you sat uncomfortably, “Even Sasuke isn’t being shunned to this extreme,”
“Because Sasuke didn’t start a war,” he refutes, “Then what are you suggesting I do?” You ask as you cross your arms, “I don’t get why you're being so.. so,” you look at him and sigh, “I’m sorry, I’ve just been really out of it. You know I hate mistreatment,” you rub your temples.
“It’s okay,” he sighs, “I just want to make sure you're not doing this because you feel forced to—,”
“I would never. I volunteer to supervise him, and I intend to make this an easy process for every party,” you say confidently, “after all, Obito and I are getting along just fine. He’s even met my students. I’ve seen good progress in him, even if it takes a little time,” you smile, “it’s like I’m slowly bringing him back,”
Kakashi stares at you for a few seconds—it was impossible to read his expression or what he was thinking, but his brows were furrowed together. You might've thought he had an expression of distaste if it weren’t for his mask, “I see… then that’s all for today. I wanted to check up on your progress, but I see that you are doing fine by yourself,”
You frown slightly at his words. You would’ve felt praised if it weren’t for his tone of voice. It seemed a little cold. You didn’t understand why—maybe it was because he was still bitter about everything that happened in the war, just like everyone else, but he out of all people should understand Obito, or at least, try to. “Right, then I’ll get going,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
It seemed the time that you used to spend with Kakashi was replaced by Obito. You two seemed to get closer to each other with each day, and you were glad. He woke up early in the morning now, telling you good morning, and asking what you would do today. If you had to go out, he’d go with you. If you stayed inside, he’d stay with you—Although you mostly thought it was because he literally had no choice but to do so.
You saw him smile more often, and the village seemed to be accepting him more and more. All of your hard work was starting to pay off. Your students seemed to love him, and so did Naruto. Obito loved to speak with your students as well. They reminded him so much of himself when he was younger. Your friendship grew so much, he even insisted on going to watch you train your students. You were glad—no, not glad. You were happy to hear this, immediately agreeing to his request.
Currently, you were sitting down on the grass while your two students sparred, Obito sitting right beside you. “You know, they remind me a lot of how things used to be,” he says while looking at the two boys, “you really weren’t kidding when you said Toko was my twin,” he chuckles, leaning back against a tree.
“I told you,” you smile at him gently before looking back at your students. “So, have you spoken to Kakashi yet?” you ask curiously, considering the last time you spoke to Kakashi about Obito he was a little… bitter about it. You understood why, but it didn’t mean you wanted that to happen.
“No, not since after… everything,” He says with a straight face, "I don't think he’d want to talk to me ever. Not that I care much anyways, I also carry resentment,” he says, not meeting your eyes as he’s focused on the two figures in front of him. They fought hand to hand, and their friendly rivalness was giving him nostalgia. The sound of their weapons clanking made him remember just how much he and Kakashi would always fight. Rin would always watch. His face drops at the memories.
“I see,” you frown, “I just wanted to know because you two deserve to flip the page and start anew,” you look at him, “I certainly forgive you. And I don’t blame you—,”
“(Y/N), I’m not a good person,” he cuts you off with furrowed brows, “And I don’t expect anyone to forgive me. Especially not kakashi. After everything that’s happened, the best thing we can do is forget we even exist,”
“I don’t think that way,” you say sternly, “I believe everyone deserves a chance, and that doesn’t exclude you. You had your reasons—heck, you were a kid when you were manipulated—”
“Manipulated?” his head snaps towards you, “it was my decision,”
“You were a kid,” you refute, but he shakes his head, “It doesn't matter,”
“It does! You were a kid, you were vulnerable—”
“And what do you know?” he asks, a little agitated. He didn’t know why he was feeling this way, but his chest was slightly burning up. “You weren't there when it happened. You didn’t know Kakashi, Rin or me that well. So how could you possibly know what I feel? How could you understand?”
“Because I have a heart. You were a vulnerable kid who was grieving the death of someone you loved. You were filled with rage, and Madara took advantage of that,” you spoke calmly, because the last thing you wanted to do was make him feel even worse than he already was, “You didn’t speak to the people you held closest to your heart. You were ripped away from the village in hopes of false promises,” everything you said, you knew because of him. He had talked about this with you shortly after becoming more comfortable with you. You did know, you weren’t exactly there, but you did understand him.
“Please don’t live your life regretting what you did, or hanging onto hatred,” you frown and put a hand on his shoulder, “This is a new beginning for you. One that you were given even after thinking you didn’t deserve it,” you smile, “take advantage of that and work on yourself. If you’re having a hard time doing so, then I’ll help you. I will always be here for you,”
Your words left him speechless. Honestly, he didn’t know what to say. He was at a loss for words. You made him feel… different. A good difference. It was like you were the thing he most longed for. You were pure kindness… It almost reminded him of Rin. No, it did remind him of Rin. His eye never left yours as he tried to think of something to say. Your hand on his shoulder felt so tender and gentle, something he hadn't experienced in a long time. “I care for you Obito,”
He stares at you for what felt like ages, but finally, he worked up the courage to say something, “thank you,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“I want a rematch!,” Toko whines, looking at the other teenager who stood crossed arms, “I already won, I don’t think you want me to beat you again,” he says and rolls his eyes.
“Okay boys, that’s all for today. Go home and rest,” you say and chuckle, seeing how Kenji helps Toko up from the ground. The boys packed their things before saying goodbye to both you and Obito. After they left, it was silent. Obito was still deep in thought after your conversation.
“Well, I need you to help me get some things. We’re kind of out of groceries and I need to restock,” you say before turning to him, “Unless you want to go home. That’s okay, I’ll do the grocer—”
“No, I’ll come with,” you were once again surprised by this, but immediately smile, “Okay then,”
It’s safe to assume that you and Obito were starting to become closer than what anyone imagined. Some might say it's too close. He seemed to smile more around you, and since some time had passed, he was now allowed to roam freely without having to be under your supervision. However, he refused to leave your side, and you didn’t mind at all. You were glad, because the bubbling feeling in your stomach everytime he laughed or made you laugh was amazing.
However, you were conflicted. For the longest time, you had always liked a certain silver haired Jonin. Kakashi was always your crush—kind of. You weren’t obsessed with him, but there was an obvious interest. You spent a lot of time together, and were set out on a lot of missions together as well. It’s safe to say that you were always together at all times. You weren’t sure if he had actually reciprocated your feelings, because he never showed any sign of interest in you. I guess that’s kind of why you started losing feelings for him as soon as he became Hokage. He was always busy, and you were too. He never seemed to be interested in you the way you were of him, so it didn’t matter.
Obito seemed to be replacing Kakashi in every sense of the matter. He was now the person you’d spend your time with 24/7. You laughed and joked with him, ate with him, lived in the same house as him. Everything you did, he was right by your side. And the best thing about all of this was that Obito seemed to be interested in you too. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but the way compliments would slip out of his mouth from time to time would make your stomach flip. The way he now sits right beside you instead of across you everytime you eat just to be closer to you made you feel amazing. He was trying to be as subtle as possible, but he failed miserably. To him, you had become someone he truly cared for. You were so kind to him, even after everything. You trusted him, because you knew who he was. You understood him in every sense of his being, and he was glad. He was just so glad he had you. Because it was as if the universe reunited you two. It was meant to happen.
It seemed the tables had been severely flipped, much to someone’s distaste. Kakashi, although always busy, heard the talk of the town. He heard the rumors, he heard the stories. He heard about how you and Obito were supposedly going out. Or how you were supposedly spotted at a restaurant together. All of this, Kakahsi could handle, because he knew they were just rumors of the town. Of course the people would start to assume things like that. Obito had to be with you at all times, so of course it would stir up a few rumors here and there. But, it made him wonder if it was actually true.
What exactly were you to Kakashi? Why did he find himself caring so much about these stupid rumors going around? He never admitted this before, but you were special to him. Ever since you were kids, he had an interest in you. At the academy and even after joining the Anbu. You always had a special place in Kakashi’s heart. To him, you were priceless. You cared too much about silly things, and too little of yourself. He hated that about you, but he also loved it. Because it left room for him to love you. He always found himself thinking about you, both when he was a kid, and still to this day. He cursed himself for never telling you how he truly felt, but to him, his romantic feelings would subside with time. They didn’t, of course, he was just lying to himself.
Why exactly did he refuse to believe his feelings towards you? Well, he’s always been alone, and when he’s not, he ends up losing those closest to him. He didn’t want to lose you. He couldn’t afford to love you when he knew that you might leave him. He couldn’t afford another heartbreak, so he treated you as a friend. He was sure you liked him, he wasn’t stupid, and he was glad. He bathed in your sweetness, and he loved it. He loved knowing that you felt the same. However, his biggest mistake was never saying anything. Because now, he was worried that you didn’t want him anymore. Now that you didn’t want him, he wanted you the most. You barely come visit him at his office anymore, and when you do, it's strictly professional. He had never expected things to go this way. Sure, he was now the Hokage, but out of all the people to treat him with such ‘respect’, he didn’t expect it from you. He thought you’d stay the same as you were. Heck, you didn’t even call him by his name anymore. It was either Hatake or Sir, and neither of them left a good taste in his mouth.
That’s why he made sure that tonight, he’d make up for all the time he wasted just pushing you away.
“You called me here for something, Sir?” you ask as you enter his office,
“You know you don’t have to use formalities when we’re alone, right?” he asks with a chuckle, earning and chuckle from you, “I mean, you’re the Hokage, it’s disrespectful to talk to you as if you’re a normal person,”
He shakes his head before sitting down, “How have you been?” he asks, waiting for you to sit down, which you did.
“Um… Well, i’ve been good,” you say hesitantly, “It’s been peaceful,”
“Is that so? I would’ve assumed you’d be stressed thanks to Obito,” he says and rests his chin on the palm of his hand. You quickly look at him and smile, shaking your head with a chuckle. You instantly melt into the conversation, as if you two had never stopped hanging out, “Oh no, he’s an angel,” you cover your mouth with a giggle, “He’s already getting used to everything. You should’ve seen him helping the seniors. They love him,”
The more you spoke about Obito, the more his expression seemed to change, “i see,” he clears his throat, “I’m glad you’re getting along,” he says a little bitterly, but you didn’t quite catch that.
“I was meaning to ask,” you look at him with a smile, “Have you gotten to speak to him? I think it would be a good idea to talk things out. He told me he hasn’t spoken to you since he got here, so…,” you look at your hands, “maybe it wouldn’t be a bother if you two got to speak. I know things are tense right now, so I wanted to—,”
“I don’t think he’d want to agree with that. We’ve parted ways. It’s better to leave things as they are right now. Let things smooth as they go,” he says, earning a small ‘oh’ from you. He noticed how your smile slightly dropped.
“But, I do have tonight free. I was meaning to ask you— well, if you wanted to go out and eat. You know, so we can catch up,” he was hopeful. There was a big chance you’d say no, but to his surprise, your eyes lit up and your smile came back to your pretty face. “Of course, around what time were you planning? Not that I’ll be busy anytime today, I’m free all day,” you smile excitedly.
“How does six sound?”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
“You’re going out?” Obito asks as he lays on your bed. He had a habit of laying on it whenever he could. He would always say it was much more comfortable than his.
“yeah, I thought I told you?” you say as you look through your closet, “No, not really. Where are you going?” he asks curiously, sitting up to look at what clothes you were pulling out.
“I’m going out to meet the Hokage,” you say with a smile, slightly excited that you would get to catch up with him again. This made Obito raise a brow, “So, you’re going out to meet Kakashi,” he states with a ‘matter of fact’ tone “Yes,” you affirm and turn to him. He lays back down, but still looks at you, “Why? Is it like, some weird date or something?”
“No! We’re just going to catch up since we barely spent any time together since he became Hokage,” you say and hold up a dress, “Do you think this is nice?” you smile and show off your dress. A hand comes and pushes the dress aside gently, “It sounds like a date to me,” he looks at your face, kneeling on the bed now.
“Obito, it’s not a date,” you put the dress down, “Even if it was, what's the big deal?”
“Nothing, I’m just saying,” he stands up and walks towards the closet, pulling out another dress, This one was a navy colored one, nothing fancy, but it was still pretty “This one would look way better,” he grins “It’s my favorite color too,”
You smile and take the dress, “Alright,”
After getting dressed and ready, you say goodbye to Obito, who is still on your bed. You heard him ask for some sweets when you got back—but you didn’t really hear him well.
You were both excited and nervous. You didn’t know what to expect. I mean, you knew Kakashi wanted to catch up, sure, but you didn’t know what to expect from yourself. One day you thought you were completely over Kakashi, and now you’re questioning your feelings again. To some extent, your feelings for Kakashi were still very much strong and alive. You were dumb for thinking that you could just forget about him. However, you also felt a little something for Obito. Your mind was reeling with many thoughts. You honestly didn’t know what to do anymore. It was like Kakashi controlled what you felt, and when you could feel it without even trying. You didn’t blame him of course, but it frustrated you a lot.
After a while of walking, you finally saw Kakashi waiting for you at the bridge. You smile and walk towards him, his head turning towards you once he hears your shoes. You assume he smiled at you at the way his eyes turn into crescent moons, “hey,” he greets, turning to face you. “You look wonderful,”
“Thank you,” you reply, your smile never leaving your face as your cheeks are dusted pink. You give him a compliment in return as well, “So, where are we going to eat?” You ask, standing besides him as he begins to lead the way, “I reserved a spot at the new restaurant that just opened recently. I’ve heard real good things about it, and I wanted to bring someone special with me,”
Your heart skipped a beat at his words, but you didn’t want to think much of it, “I see,” your cheeks were dusted pink, your lips forming a small smile as you looked down. He noticed this, and smiled to himself. After all this time, he still had that effect on you.
The restaurant was pretty different from all the others in Konoha. It was a little more modern than any other restaurant, and it just screamed expensive. “Wow, this place looks amazing,” you say as you look around, already sitting across from Kakashi, “I’m not sure I can afford to come here more than two times. It looks really expensive,” you laugh, earning a chuckle from him, “Maybe you won’t have to pay. If you come with me, I’ll definitely make sure to pay for everything. Just like tonight,” he tilts his head with a smile, his eyes closed.
“Oh no, don’t bother, I brought money—,”
“I said I’ll pay (Y/N), don’t worry about it,” he put a hand over yours when you went to reach for your pouch. You look at his hand and then at him, “Are you sure?” He nods and leans back, pulling his hand away from yours, “of course, I was the one who invited you. I’m not letting you pay,” he chuckles. He was so handsome.
The afternoon was going really well. Both were having a nice conversation during your meal—although, you had no idea how he was eating since not once did you see him pull down his mask—and were just enjoying yourselves. You felt euphoric. It was nice being with him again. You had forgotten exactly why you had fallen for him all those years ago, and today you were being reminded. He was so nice, so funny, so perfect to you. He read you like a book and listened to everything you had to say. It was just nice.
“You know, I missed this,” you say, taking the last bite of your food and smiling, “I forgot when was the last time that we actually spoke like this. For hours,” you rest your chin on your palm, “I thought we wouldn’t get to do this anymore”
“I thought so too,” he says and looks into your eyes. He fell quiet as he stared at you. This had to be the moment. He needed to tell you now, because he wouldn’t get another chance if he didn’t.
“(Y/N), I have something really important I want to say,” he says, suddenly a little more serious than before, “I want you to be honest with me,”
You furrow your brows, sitting upright and nodding, “yeah, of course. What is it?”
“How do you really feel about me?” You were taken aback by his question, “I thought you wanted to say something important, not ask me something,” you chuckle a little nervously, trying to avoid answering, but he shook his head, “I’ll tell you when you answer me,”
“Well, I think…,” you stop for a moment, trying to form the words you so badly wanted to utter. ‘I’ve been in love with you for the past fifteen years,’ is all you wanted to say, but you couldn’t. Not when you were torn between telling him and forgetting Obito, or just never telling him at all. “You’re a wonderful person,” you say, and look at him. However, it seemed like that wasn’t the answer he wanted. “And I appreciate you a lot, for always being there for me for as long as I remember,”
The table was now quiet. He seemed to be thinking of what to say, and you were nervously waiting for his answer.
“Do you like me? Romantically,” he asks again, now going straight to the point, making your heart beat faster, “what?” You ask, gulping down the lump in your throat.
“Because I like you. I’ve liked you for as long as I can remember,” he declares, making your heart almost stop. You didn’t expect this. You never would’ve expected this. He had never treated you romantically in his life, so what was the occasion?
“I… Kakashi, I don’t understand,” you furrow your brows, “If that is really true, how come you never told me before—or at least dropped hints,”
“I didn’t want to give you false hopes. I wasn’t sure before, mostly because I was afraid to get hurt,” he admits, “but now I’m sure,”
“But why now? Why now all of a sudden?” You ask, the timing seemed weird. How come now, that you weren’t speaking as much as before, he wanted to confess. Why now?
“I.. don’t know,” he blinks, “but what matters is that I told you,”
“I.. Are you being genuine?” You frown, “because the timing seems a little strange. I don’t understand why you suddenly seem interested in me. I mean, we haven’t hung out, we haven’t spoken—you never showed interest in me before this moment. Why is it that now you suddenly want to say this to me,” you didn’t understand why you weren’t happy. I mean, you liked him, of course, but it felt strange.
The puzzle pieces didn’t fit, and the only reason as to why he was seemingly starting to take an interest now, was because you were spending more time with Obito. You didn’t want to jump to conclusions, but come on, it was plausible. It made sense if you thought about it. They technically hated each other, and it was no secret they were rivals and will always be rivals. It looked as if now that Obito was winning your attention, Kakashi wanted it back.
“Of course I’m being genuine. I’ve always liked you,” he frowns, “Do you not like me?”
“It’s… it’s not that. I just, I don’t think I want anything right now. The timing seems off and I— I just don’t know if I’m sure of what I’m feeling,”
The air seemed to get tense the more you spoke. You seemed conflicted, and Kakashi knew why. He knew why you were conflicted. “This is about Obito, isn’t it?” He suddenly asks, making your head snap towards him. “I…,” you didn’t know how to answer, because to some extent, yes, it was about Obito,
“I knew it,” he leans back, “you like him,”
“It’s not like that,”
“Then why is it that you suddenly changed your mind? I mean, I know you like me. Or at least liked. So why else would you not accept me?”
Now that makes you uncomfortable. He was speaking the truth, but the way he said it sounded wrong.
“Kakashi, things change,” you begin to explain, but you never expected what he said next.
“(Y/N), you can’t just fall for him. I’m not sure if he likes you, but if he does, it’s not genuine. It’s not fair to take advantage of someone who obviously has never been treated nicely before. Of course he’d fall for the first person to show him an ounce of respect,”
Your jaw dropped at his words. You couldn’t believe what you just heard. You had to process everything twice just to make sure you weren’t making things up. Kakashi had to admit he was talking out of frustration—since he wasn’t getting you easily. But this reached a whole different level.
“Unbelievable,” you finally say, reaching for your pouch and pulling out money. You slam it onto the table and stand up.
“(Y/N), wait—,”
“I want you to know that Obito deserves to be loved too, you know. Don’t you ever tell me I’m taking advantage of someone just because I love them,” you scoff and take your things, starting to storm your way out of there. Before you could leave, Kakashi caught your wrist, “I didn’t mean it like that,” he tries to convince, but you pull your arm away, “I know what you meant,” you snarl and finally exit, leaving a guilty Kakashi behind.
The walk home was hot. You felt hot all around. You were angry. Angry and hurt. His words kept swirling in your head.
‘It’s not fair to take advantage of someone who obviously has never been treated nicely before,’
Who did he think he was? How could he even say that? It hurts you. It hurt you because you liked him so much, but this? This made you think about what you felt. It made you question things.
Maybe you were overreacting. You didn’t know. Right now, you didn’t want to know. You got home and quickly stormed towards your bedroom after locking the door. You looked disheveled—and once you reached your bedroom, Obito quickly sat up from your bed, “you’re here early,” he says, but quickly stopped when he saw your red face. Concern washes over him as he stands up, “hey, what’s wrong?”
You stay silent, taking off your shoes while shaking slightly, “(Y/N), what’s going on?” he asks again, coming closer to you and placing his gentle hands on your shoulders, “Hey, look at me,”
You finally look up at him, eyes glossy with tears. You were so mad, so frustrated, that you couldn’t hold back your tears, “what’s wrong?” His voice was so gentle, so soothing. It was exactly what you needed right now. You had possibly ruined your relationship with Kakashi—no, you didn’t ruin it. He did.
“I just,” you choked as your tears finally fell. You hated crying. You hated that you cried when you just wanted to yell.
Instead of pushing you to speak, Obito pulled you into a hug. His arms wrapped around your waist as his hand held your head and pushed it towards his chest. It was so warm. “It’s okay, I’m here,” he whispers, his fingers gently tangling themselves into your hair. Your arms found themselves wrapping around him as well, holding onto him for what seemed like hours. Yet he never moved. He never uttered a word to hurt you. On the contrary, he let you know he was there for you. This is what you needed…
“Thank you, Obito,”
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Days passed by since what happened at the restaurant, and today was the first time since the incident that you were called to the Hokage’s office. You felt dread wash over you when you received the message, you didn’t want to go, not after what happened. Oh, had I mentioned how Obito and you now seemed to be inseparable? That interaction had built a strong bond between the two of you. No words were spoken that night, but they didn’t have to be. Both of you created a connection no other person could achieve.
With every step you took, your body felt heavier. Dread consumed you and you couldn’t seem to open the door to his office. You didn’t know what to expect… however, you managed to build the courage to enter his office, straightening yourself and walking towards his desk, “you called for me, sir?”
His head tilts upwards to look at you, “Yes,” he answers dryly and pulls a scroll from his desk, “a mission for you, out in Kirigakure,” he waits for you to take the scroll, watching you intently. You felt as if his eyes were burning holes onto your skin. You reached for the scroll and took it.
“Take both your students with you,” he adds, and looks down at some papers, “that’s all,”
You weren’t expecting this attitude, but then again, what were you expecting? You felt weird. “Right, thank you,” you say, bowing respectfully before turning towards the exit. As you were about to open the door, he called for you. You turn your head towards him, and wait for him to speak.
“Just know that I’m sorry,” he says, which you simply nodded and left. Once you were out of sight, your heart dropped to your stomach. ‘You should’ve said something’ you thought, mentally facepalming. ‘He was trying to apologize and you just left? You’re so stupid’ you insult yourself as you walk out of the building. You wondered what this mission was about, but you didn’t check until you were back home.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
The mission was simple. There were some ninja terrorizing the village and they needed some help catching them. It wasn’t an S rank mission, but it was still pretty high up there. You assumed the ninja were pretty darn strong if you had to be sent out.
“A mission in the mist village?” Asked Obito as he peeked over your shoulder to see what the scroll said. “Apparently. It’ll take a few days I guess,” you sigh and place the scroll on the desk of your room, going to grab a bag to pack some things. Obito read the scroll with furrowed brows, “why couldn’t he send Naruto and his gang? I mean, they could handle it themselves,” he asks and watches you pack, “because they’re busy with their own missions,” you say, throwing some clothes and tools into your bag, “I have to leave in a few hours, so please keep the place tidy,” you say, turning towards him.
“Of course,” he shrugs and sits down on the bed, “and make sure to eat well—and don’t drool on my pillows this time,” you laugh as he blushed slightly, “that was one time,” he argued
“I know, I’m just messing with you,”
Once it was time to leave, you took your bag and wore your headband. Obito followed behind you as you walked towards the door. “Hey,” he called before you opened the door. You turn to him and raise a brow, “what is it?”
“Please be careful,” he says, obviously worried, “I mean, I know you’ll kick ass, but please be careful,” he smiles at you worriedly, but you grinned reassuringly, “don’t worry Obito, I’ll come back in one piece,” you chuckle and open your arms. He immediately leaned in to give you a strong hug, and for a moment it seemed like he didn’t want to let go. However, you needed to leave and he let go. He smiled gently and pinched your cheek, “alright, I’ll see you soon then,” he says and you nod, leaving him behind. You wondered what he’d do while you were gone, but decided it was better to keep your mind focused on your mission.
⋅───⊱༺ ♰ ༻⊰───⋅
Now while you were gone, a surprise arrived at your doorstep. When Obito answered the door, it was two of Kakashi’s secretaries. “Obito Uchiha, you have been summoned to the Hokage’s office on urgent request,”
Him? What for? Although Obito wanted to ask these exact questions, he only nodded and followed them to the building. He hadn’t been called there for about two months, what could he possibly be called over there for.
Once they arrived, he was left alone in front of the office doors. Everything seemed different. The village itself had changed too much since the last time he was there—well, when he was a kid. He shook the thoughts away and entered the office. Finally, after two long months, Kakashi and Obito were back face to face.
“You called me,” Obito states, his arms crossing in front of his chest as he waits for Kakashi to speak. The silver haired man looks up from his paperwork, his dark eyes burning into Obito’s.
“Yes, we need to talk,”
173 notes · View notes
leviismybby · 9 months
Note
I NEED MORE OF LEVI AND HIS TEEN SON
Heheh I do too here are some headcanons
He is a total mama's boy and it pisses Levi off. He can tell his son a 100 times to do something and he won't but if you do it? He immediately does it and Levi is like "you little shit".
A troublemaker 100%, now he doesn't pick fights often, Levi told him to never start a fight first but if someone else does it? As his dad told him, he fucks them up, lmao. And given the fact that he is an Ackerman, the other kid pretty much stands no chance.
Has tried sneaking out and Levi catches his EVERY single time. "Where the fuck do you think you're going? Back to bed, now. Don't make me tell you again." And his son knows better by now than to talk back but Levi still gets an eye roll.
Levi usually lets you scold him and teach him a lesson if he does something wrong but as soon as he sees that his son gets disrespectful to you, he gets involved. "Don't talk to your mother like that or I'll break all your damn teeth."
The voice change made Levi almost jump out his chair one morning, that was the first time it really hit him that his son was growing up to be a man. They sound almost the same too.
Speaking of the same voice, they look alike, literally the same face and everything but his son has your smile.
Smart but hates to study. Levi's son is the type of person to memorize everything in class, he never studies but always gets good grades.
Now for "the talk" Levi was awkward about it and just kind of blurred it out one night at dinner and his son looked at him. "Dad, I am 16, I know how babies are made."
Levi doesn't like that he reminds him of Kenny sometimes but he never mentions it. It just for some short moments, it's more in his head.
Has his attitude when Levi was younger and Levi doesn't know how to handle it. It's like he is speaking to a mirror, both of them are stubborn so unless you interfere, no one is winning that fight.
He is blunt like his father, you and Levi thought him to be honest and sometimes you aren't sure if that's a good thing because he can be brutal with truth at times.
Despite his attitude, he is still caring, he shows it more than Levi does. He has a lot of respect and love for both of you especially how good of partners both of you are.
Is a good and loyal friend, doesn't really have many friends but those he has he holds close to him.
Sometimes he gets on Levi's nerves just because he can, for one he is taller and that's something he makes sure Levi doesn't forget.
Girls are always an interesting conversation because the girls he likes are nothing like Levi's type was. He sometimes even judges him for it. "That's what you like? Your mother was nothing like that." and his son just glares at him. "You're lucky that mom even liked your 5'2 ass."
Be home by rule never works, he either home before he should be home or he is home way after you or Levi told him to be.
He isn't really into sports since any sport he joined, he was too good at so he just does the workout routine Levi did when he was in the survey crops.
Levi does tell him about his fallen comrades and his son had a lot of respect for his father and the military overall.
Father and son bonding time is usually those late-night kitchen talks, his son knows that his father still isn't much of sleeper so he stays up late sometimes just to have a talk with his dad.
You know about them talking but never tell them. You find it important and cute that they have a talk from time to time.
He is his father's son after all.
652 notes · View notes
sethvzekiel · 9 months
Text
what could have been | 141 x cold!reader
a passing admission proceeds to completely take over his mind
141 x cold! reader. callsign azrael. gn! reader. mild angst + pining. multiple POV, no established relationship. flashback central, marked in red + italics.
part 1/same AU as this
Long hc/short fic. 3.6k words.
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It was banter — really, just mindless chatter to fill the silence on the way back home. Something to wear off the adrenaline from the previous battle. It spilled from lips like loose threads, mindless ramblings about past experiences and feelings and army stories.
Stories like “LT, what do ye mean I wasn’t first place? That was a solid run I just did, solid!” and “When you were our age, Captain, they didn’t have telly,” between snickers and friendly insults.
You were the contractor, not one of them: a position you were keen on protecting as you kept to the far corner of the army plane, typing up your own report for Laswell. The chatter droned on in the back of your mind as you spared only the barest sliver of attention for emergencies. It was only when someone mentioned your name that you looked up from your laptop.
Gaz tilted his head at you, a spark of mischief in his eyes. He’d been getting bold lately, fully confident that he was your favorite comrade. Gaz did always have a sharp tongue, even for Price.
“Have you ever been in love?”
You scoffed, fully ready to get back to your report.
“What are we, schoolgirls at a sleepover? Don’t ask stupid questions.”
Someone closed your laptop. Soap.
“No, no, answer his question!”
“Scotsman. Get your hand off something that’s five times your salary, or I’ll remove it myself.”
You were only half kidding; the laptop was six times his salary. Merc money was a lovely thing.
Soap quickly retreated, muttering something about being on the wrong career path and “five times my fuckin’ salary, get off yer arse,” but nudged you nevertheless.
It felt as if the conversation was finally going to move on when another spoke.
“Answer the question, Azrael.”
This was a joke. You didn’t hide your disdain as you glared at Price.
“Really, Captain?”
Price took a long drag of his cigar.
“Answer it and I’ll tell Kate you’re on good behavior. She’ll be over the moon to hear you’re getting some social interaction.”
Unfortunately, he wasn’t lying. Laswell did not hide her hopes of getting you true comrades, not just contracted acquaintances, when she introduced you to the 141 — a hope you’d gone out of your way to quash for a long time. If a false reassurance from Price would get her mind off that ridiculous idea and focus on getting you more kill contracts…
Well, not a bad trade-off for pretending to be friends for one plane ride.
You let out a sigh from deep within your soul, opened your laptop again, and pulled up the report. Almost mindlessly, you spoke whatever came to your mind at that very moment, not knowing how badly it would change the 141.
“Sure.”
God, you could feel the whole plane lean in with anticipation.
“Never had the time to fall in love, but…” 
You mentally shrugged. This was fine to admit, right?
“... I was briefly interested in one of you. Now, if you’ll excuse me.”
You popped on your headphones, leaving the boys to dwell with that answer.
The plane couldn’t have gone any faster.
◈ GAZ
Interested? Like, interested-interested?
There was no getting you out of those headphones—he’d tried before, didn’t end well. The entire task force was stunned silent for a minute, each one picking apart your casual admission and grappling with the idea of Oh God, is it me?
It was Soap who broke first, exploding into a shocked yell that boomed throughout the tiny plane. That shook Gaz out of his stunned silence, but he still blinked rapidly as he tried to comprehend what you’d just said.
Interested. In one of them.
There was a one in four chance that it was him. Five, if Laswell counted, but he was certain that you saw her more as a mentor and confidant than a romantic prospect. Besides, she wasn’t even in the plane. It was between him, Soap, LT, and the Captain, and this was a battle royale he was keen on winning.
Gaz wasn’t blind. He was the first to notice the changing opinions of his teammates on you. Bearing the combined advantage of brains and emotional awareness, things the 141 usually lacked one or the other of, he picked up on Price’s constant attention towards you that increasingly felt less like a professional checkup. He knew about Ghost’s rivalry with you that brought a tinge of tenderness to his gruff exterior as he complimented your skill. And who could miss Soap locking onto you like a missile from day one?
But it had to be him, right? He was the only one you spoke to of your own accord, the one whose name you called when arranging for shared night shifts. The one who’s actually been to your room (he happily ignored the fact that he was just there to fetch a report for Laswell). The one who, at a drunken night out where you’d actually gotten tipsy for once, you’d stuck to like glue, no matter how rowdy the pub got.
Gaz was your first defender in the 141. When even Price was wary of your cold nature and mercenary background, Gaz was always up at arms, ready to express the simple truth that you were just a professional, and Price could look at Ghost for an example, couldn’t he? Always jumping the gun, fighting back even Soap’s teases at your expense simply because you weren’t present to defend your attitude and the unfairness of their assumptions felt real to Gaz. They didn’t see the you he saw. They just had to.
You were soft around him. Safe. And Gaz felt the same way, too. As much as you’d listen to his ramblings of whatever’s going on in his life, he looked forward to your own stories, hanging off of every rough-toned word as you shared your wisdom from past fights and your assessment of his skills, which he’d known was your way of caring for him. Making sure that he’d live long to fight good.
“In another world,” he’d said one night as you watched the last hours of your watch tick away. “Would you be back on the field again? If you had a choice to walk away from all this, live a normal life?”
Back then, your moonlit expression was intense, but sorrowful as you considered your answer. Gaz thought that you were only being sincere in answering him when you’d gazed deep into his eyes, but now, he couldn’t help but wonder if you meant something else when you replied:
“I don’t know. Where would you be?”
“Dunno either. Always wanted to protect people. Make some real change. Don’t think I’d handle being an artist or bloody stockbroker all my life.”
He was so fucking stupid. Why didn’t he actually listen to what you’d said when he was too busy imagining living some alternate life, when you were right in front of him and so close?
You smelled nice.
“Then I’ll follow you back to the fight, Kyle.”
“Aw mate, I’ll look forward to it, yeah?”
The memory, the regrets, and the what-could’ve-been’s swirled in Gaz’s mind and stung at his eyes.
He wanted to look at you again, but he wasn’t going to risk anyone seeing his face right now with how he’s feeling.
He was a bloody moron, and he lost his chance.
◈ SOAP
“Yer taking the piss!”
Laughter was always Johnny’s first response. Little Johnny-boy giggling nervously as his mother demanded to know where he’d been after playing outside until dark. Freshly-recruited MacTavish snickering as he far surpassed the other recruits in exercises, again, to their dismay. Sergeant Johnny ‘Soap’ MacTavish cackling with delight and adrenaline as he fired off the C4, lighting up the battlefield with plumes of orange fire.
Laughter was also a defense mechanism: difficult personalities, hard questions, bad days. Heal it or shrug it off, Soap was never one to make things more complicated than they should be.
This laughter… he wasn’t sure if it was one of joy or nerves.
You were interested. Were, he tried to remind himself, but his mind kept on latching onto the ‘interested’ part. One of them—which could’ve been him. 
He was delusional now, flailing around and being the jokester when it was all just an act to hide his inner turmoil. Fuck, did you know that he had it bad for you? It was his fault for not bothering to hide it and trailing after you, but he thought that you already shrugged it off as a joke. Did… did you take him seriously, after all?
Or worse, what if it wasn’t him? 
His glance went to Gaz, remembering how he’d fallen asleep on the truck that one time and accidentally leaned on your shoulder, how you stiffened, then slowly settled down, even adjusting your shoulder for the entire two-hour drive. How, no matter the situation or your mood, you always called upon Gaz with a decidedly softer tone than the one you used on him.
Surely, he wasn’t that attached to you. You were comrades, a passing fancy wouldn’t hurt anything.
He’d never seen LT smile, ever. Part of it’s the mask, but it was clear in his voice and the lack of crinkling around his eyes that smiling wasn’t his thing. But then Ghost and you had that sniper competition, dragged Soap in to referee, and when you hit dead-center for all moving targets, Soap wrenched his gaze away to catch a shine of something in Ghost’s eyes as he watched you.
Friends and professionals. That was all you were, right?
“Good health makes good men, MacTavish,” you said sharply as he sat up on his bed. Soap was forced into the medbay after a particularly grueling op. Long, sleepless nights, absolute hellfire, and blood loss all culminated in him passing out from shock mid-battle. His memories of the exact moment he collapsed were hazy, but he knew that he heard someone call his name in a choked scream.
Was it Gaz who screamed then? He was always the worrywart. Soap scratched his head, wincing as pain flared up his side at the simple motion. He shot you a shining, albeit weak, grin.
“Don’t lose yer head over me, was just the one time.”
Your glare narrowed.
“One time is all it takes, soldier.” 
Fuck, you were calling him ‘soldier’ now? You were pissed. Soap raised his hands in surrender.
“I give, I give. I’ll take my meds a day and all that shite. No trouble from me.”
For a moment, he was expecting more scolding, admonishments of his recklessness or a possible lack of skill. A “stop dragging the rest of us down with you,” considering your pride in your own battle prowess. But he got no such thing.
You sighed, looking a thousand nights older as you did, and he caught the marks of sleepless nights under your eyes. The roughness of your hands as you held his good shoulder. The miniscule caress of your thumb that he assumed (back then) was purely accidental.
“Make good on that, Johnny,” you whispered, gaze drifting off elsewhere. “You have to.”
Your voice was hoarse—why? When you left and the medic had taken your place, refreshing Soap’s bandages, he asked about how long he was out.
“Three days, sergeant,” the medic replied. “And your scary friend insisted on staying here for all of it. Tended to you like one of our own staff.”
“Psh, LT? Knew he was soft.”
“No, no, not the lieutenant. Your PMC friend.”
Without even thinking about it, Johnny laughed.
◈ GHOST
He definitely wasn’t paying attention to the mindless gossip, and anyone who’d say otherwise will have months of latrine duty awaiting them. Gaz calling your name piqued his attention, but only barely, and brought a tickle of amusement when he asked you such a ridiculous question.
He was much less amused at your answer.
It was sarcastic, he tried to reason. Spouting off bullshit to keep the boys off your trail and get back to work as soon as possible. That’s what you’re always like, and that’s what he liked about you.
He also liked your shots. The pride you took in your expertise. The devotion to your warcraft. How you always took his challenges as if your name was on the line. How you’d smirk if you won, or promise comeuppance if you lost.
He liked your loyalty to Laswell — and envied it. You obeyed him and Price, yes, but he would never forget the brief gleam of admiration when the boys asked you about Laswell over lunch. He liked and envied your closeness with Gaz: a sign that you might be a true ally of the 141 after all, but a closeness that he wondered if you could extend to anyone else. He respected your ferocious protectiveness of Soap when he’d (stupidly) collapsed mid-battle, but watching you tend to Soap for nights on end wrenched something awful from within his chest.
You were a shade more casual with Price. According to the captain, you had some snark to you when not in work mode: a privilege Price had gotten purely because you were both friends of Laswell. You bonded with Price like you were fellow leaders, people down similar paths instead of mere colleagues, and when planning missions, you and Price made up a tactical machine to be reckoned with.
It was whenever he’d deliver late night reports to Price’s office, that he’d listen before knocking on the door. Muffled conversation—most of it Price’s, but every so often, there was a quick chuckle that wasn’t his, or a quiet snark followed by Price’s gravelly laughter. The office would be thick with cigar smoke when Ghost was allowed in, but what was harder to swallow was the cigar hanging from your lips that you’d returned to Price, and he’d popped it between his teeth without question.
Ghost was in deep. He’d never admit it to anyone, not even to himself, but he was. That chilling, anxiety-inducing truth nudged at the back of his head as he silently watched Soap cackle and holler throughout the plane while you intentionally ignored them, eyes trained on your report like your life depended on it.
You and the laptop. A familiar sight when he’d pass by the rec room on late nights, where you’d be tapping away at the laptop with stacks of coffee cups and energy bars littered across the table.
“Bloody hell, that can’t wait until tomorrow?” He’d asked, exasperated, by the fifth night.
You took a moment more to work before responding.
“The mob won’t wait for tomorrow. This mission needs to go down tonight.”
“Don’t let me stop you.”
He didn’t know why he stayed there with you, sharing the couch as he made tea for two and set a cup beside you without a word. He could have actually tucked in for the night, gotten some well-deserved sleep lest he be grouchier than ever for the next day’s training drills. Or popped open a book if he felt like it. Anything more productive than sit beside you all night as you silently blazed through reports and phone calls, arranging operations that he had no business in caring about.
You were exhausted, but you were determined and alert as you ferried reports on the trafficking ring takedown. The calm, effortless strength in your voice as you spoke—sometimes strongly—with operatives much higher up the chain than you, because you knew what you were doing and were going to see this op to the end. A flicker of silent gratitude as Ghost refilled your tea again and tidied up your makeshift workspace.
A call by the first sliver of sunrise made you sag into the couch with relief.
“Mission accomplished?” Ghost asked.
You slid your tired gaze to him, and this close to you, he caught your tiny, sleepy grin.
“G’job, LT,” you murmured, voice thick with lethargy. “Mmh… needta phone Kate…”
“I’ll do it.”
“Not your op.”
“Don’t think Laswell’d understand a word of what you’re saying right now. C’mon, let’s get you some rest.”
He beckoned for you to stand up, only to hear a soft, muffled snore. You… were sleeping, knocked-out dead, with a hint of your grin remaining, probably dreaming about a job well done. Disheveled, snoring, and surrounded in loose notes and coffee stains, you were far from the cold professional that you normally made yourself to be.
The rec room was no place for sleeping. Soap would be here any minute, booming and hollering as him and Gaz would raid the fridge, again. You needed to be anywhere else.
And if Ghost was going to carry you in his arms all the way back to your room and go through the trouble of arranging for your sudden day-off, then he was going to do it silently, and pretend it never happened when you approached him the next day.
◈ PRICE
That… was a surprise.
While Price was the most privy to your story as your commanding officer and, more importantly, Laswell’s friend, much of your life was still a mystery to him. Laswell only gave him a few pointers: “They’ve had a long life, John,” and “Trust is a double-edged sword for them.”
He could guess when you entered Laswell’s life. It was some years ago, when she was busier than ever, to the point that he’d considered staging an intervention alongside her wife when Laswell refused with fire in her eyes. She was fighting for something, he could tell, but he didn’t know what exactly until she told him about you.
Somewhere in the gaps between what little he knew about you, Price hoped you had some normalcy to your life. Enough memories on hand to look back fondly upon, to carry you through the darker days. Yet he had a feeling that you had little of such memories to yourself. Perhaps, that was why he decided to share with you some of his own.
Foolishness in his youth. Summers from his wilder days. Dreams he’d had and lost, but never mourned—the kinds of men he’d wanted to become before making peace with himself. You understood, somehow: you were an old soul, no matter your age, a wealth of experiences and wisdom in you with just as many unanswered questions.
You can be safe with me, his soul all but screamed in your nightly chats. The doubt and fear and sorrow layered on your shoulders like dust was easy for him to see when he could feel the same thing. You weren’t delicate, not by a long shot. You were one of the strongest people he knew, but there was nothing Price could do to stifle the yearning in his chest to hold you, let you rest in his shadow and believe for once that everything was going to be alright.
“Do you have any interest in living long, sir?” You muttered as Price brought out his first cigar of the night. He wouldn’t be smoking this early in the night, but he had to deal with higher-ups and red tape all day just for some damn clearance. You were the only person he’d actually looked forward to speaking with that day.
“Smoking won’t kill me, Azrael—” You scoffed, then. “—it’s the bloody Pentagon that will.”
“And the UN. And the UK.”
“If the boys don’t get to me first. Where’s my lighter?”
“Here you go.” You didn’t have his lighter, but you had your own up and ready.
“Picked up the habit, did you?”
“No. You’ve lost your lighter enough times that I bought one myself.”
He offered you a gruff thanks and sank into his chair, watching the smoke swirl up to the amber light. You leaned back on his desk, your body barely brushing his—something that he was used to by then that he was second-guessing now.
It was beautiful and terrible, how close his hand was to yours.
Stupid stories made you laugh, but not foolish ones. Your concern for the boys was evident even in simple retellings of the past; a fact that burned in his heart when he noticed. So he told you about how Gaz tried to fix a leaky shower only to explode the entire camp’s plumbing system, he clung to your brief chuckle like a lifeline. The mirth lighting up your face was going to be his second addiction.
“Want to try, soldier?” He asked as he held out his cigar, not for the first time.
“Just this once. If it’s ass, you’re not getting another light out of me.”
He was going to offer you a new one, but you’d taken the one he’d been smoking and casually placed it between your lips, as if the very sight hadn’t made the blood roar in Price’s ears. You frowned at the taste—he laughed, ignored the flush of heat across his body.
A knock on the door: Simon, turning in his papers. He froze when he saw you and Price, and though obscured by his mask, Price knew the lieutenant well enough to recognize the hesitation in his steps.
Why did he do it?—Price wondered now as he recalled that night, how you’d returned the cigar and he, without thinking, popped it right back to his mouth in front of Simon. And why did he feel proud?
But Price had to hold himself in check. As captain, he had boundaries that he mustn’t cross. The team’s well-being was his top priority, that was always the truth of it, and as he watched the boys dwell in the fallout of your shocking admission, he had no place in making this rivalry worse, no matter how he felt about you.
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charliehoennam · 3 months
Text
aftermath.
A/N: nobody asked for this, but all I've seen is Will smut (which I totally love, don't get me wrong) but I need some vulnerable Will
Pairing: Will Miller x f!reader
Warnings: grief, mourning, sad!will, mentions of death, mentions of Will's military past and Tom's funeral
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One of the things you've always admired about Will is his strength. He was always the one to put on a brave face and push on. The captain in him had the duty of moving forward and completing whatever mission was at hand, whether it was getting his team to the landing zone or grocery shopping day at home.
It was that very same strength he possessed that got him through the darkest times in his life.
Losing his war veteran grandfather, losing his comrades in combat or to the haunting PTSD that they tried to chase away with substance abuse.
Before you came into his life, before he realized that he was lost in the same fog of that purgatory of PTSD, shutting his emotions out is the only thing he knew. After all that time, he came to believe it was easier than having to deal with them.
It just wasn't a priority; a moment of tears he refused to share with anyone anywhere other than sat naked and alone on the shower floor.
Tom wasn't the first friend he'd lost, but it doesn't mean it made losing him any easier.
It was easy for him to plaster a smile and bury his grief deep down until he felt it was time to unbury it and mourn.
Getting to that point of self-awareness was a victory in itself.
It took so much patience and love and pain, not only on his behalf but yours as well, to help him to understand what he was really struggling with.
He hadn't realized it had gotten so uncontrollable until the incident at Publix - the grand revelation of the weapon he could be, once shred of his humanity, provided the cathartic acceptance of the fact that he needed help.
Upon federal investigation, the story they told was that Tom had been shot and killed in a tragic mugging incident on their consultation trip. Just a boys' night out gone bad.
It wasn't too hard to believe, given they were 5 foreigners in a country that wasn't theirs. The heat from the Feds didn't last long. Thanks to Santiago's few but faithful contacts, that investment was quickly brought to an end.
It's barely 6 a.m. and you're stood in the kitchen making coffee, still processing how this all happened.
Your black dress is simple but elegant and modest against your body. Despite the itchy fabric, you can feel the early morning chill soaking through.
The dripping of the coffee maker lures you into a whirlwind of thoughts. You watch the droplets of dew form on the kitchen window against the cloudy sky which threatens to rain.
You start to second guess the toast when it pops up in the toaster. You're not the slightest bit hungry and you're positive Will won't be either, but you have to try.
He hasn't eaten right in the past couple days. You didn't say anything, but you've noticed the few bites he'd given his food and the way he'd pick at it.
He should've been ready and downstairs by now, so you decide to go up and check on him.
Moving forward is hard for most people, but for Will, it's what keep the pain at bay. The problem is when he stops.
Like a tornado, he's left with the screaming silence and the damage it left in it's wake.
Now that he's home, the mission of bringing Tom home is complete, the hard truth that his friend and mentor is gone has begun to sink in.
You gently knock on the door as you reach your shared bedroom.
"Honey, do you want any help?"
"I'm good, sweetheart. I'll be right out."
You can hear him sniffle despite his attempt to sound as normal as possible. Unconvinced, you turn the knob and open the door.
He's sat on the edge of the bed wearing a simple black suit as he looks back over his shoulder at you with a Marine coin in hand, a gift from Tom when Will confessed about his therapy sessions.
You aren't too surprised to see he changed out of the formal military blue suit he had out on earlier.
The ribbons, the medals, the badges... He couldn't put them on without feeling the crushing and staining weight of guilt.
"Lat minute outfit change?"
The corner of your lips curl in an attempt to smile, hoping to cheer him up with a bit of tease.
"I was gonna wear my dress blues, but..." he trails off for a moment to swallow hard. "Just didn't feel right."
Without a word, you quietly walk over and sit beside him. You're not sure what he needs right now, but you don't want him to feel alone.
"Black is more flattering if you ask me," you speak up.
His beard twitches as he attempts to smile. He knows you just want to help him feel better. Yet all he can do is stare down at the gold coin.
"Five times... Five times. Five close calls. And he survived them all. He didn't deserve to go out like that. He just wanted to help his family."
You fight back tears as you listen to him with an arm wrapped his back as you press your cheek to his shoulder.
"I told Santi to get him in. I said I'd go if Tom was in. Tom didn't even want to go in the first place. He didn't-"
There's a crack in his voice which he catches it in his throat to compose himself. He sniffles letting a tear cascade down his cheek only to wipe it away quickly, hoping you hadn't seen it.
"This isn't on you, Will."
He nods although you both know deep inside that he won't stop blaming himself.
"When you told me you were a marine, I knew the risks that came with that, Will. Every knock on the door had my heart racing. But I decided to stay with you because I love you. There wasn't a person on earth or a God in the sky that was gonna tell me otherwise. I knew the risks and I took 'em anyways because not having you would've hurt more... I don't understand how fate works other than we all end up the same. What I do know is that all we can do is love our close ones and cherish the good memories you have of them."
With a tearful and silent nod, he lowers his head and rests it against your chest. His arms lock around your waist as he surrenders to the tears in your embrace.
The tears quietly trickle down your cheeks as you listen to him finally breaking down.
With your lips pressed against his golden hair, you hold him in your arms and stroke the hair on the back of his neck to soothe him for as long as he needs.
All you can do is hold him through it and he couldn't be more thankful to have you in such a vulnerable moment after having faced them on his own for so many years.
Just the feeling of not being alone was overwhelming enough, but to have you holding him and reminding him of the things that are easy to ignore in grief give him hope.
Although he feels he's coming apart, he knows that he'll have the strength he's always had.
It's different now. It's not the strength to bury and forget; it's the strength to heal.
With a sigh of relief after a long, vulnerable moment, he pulls away from you and nods, mentally assuring himself that he's alright.
Upon arriving at the church, you're greeted by Molly so you offer your deepest condolences due to the circumstances. Just as Will, you find that the guys have all opted to wear normal black suits instead of the formal military uniform and you wonder if it's for the same reason.
"Sorry for that," he sniffles wiping his eyes as he tries to regain his composure, swallowing hard with guilt. "We should get going... I don't wanna be late."
You remind him that there is no need to apologize and that he can take the time to splash some water on his face to help him recollect before leaving.
Frankie doesn't say a word other than to Molly and the girls, apologizing for their loss. Throughout the priest's religious ceremony of easing words, Benny's apathetic eyes are glued to Tom's casket set in front of the church between his military portrait and a beautiful arrangement of white flowers. During Will's heartfelt eulogy, Santiago keeps his head lowered as the guilt consumes him.
The grift and sadness during the wake only follow and weigh heavier during the long walk to the gravesite, lingering among the guests of the funeral like a dark cloud. It's only reflected in depths by the light rain pitter-pattering all around.
The military traditions at the funeral leave a bitter tinge of irony in the boys as they watch Tom's casket lowering into the ground.
Tess's happy big doey eyes are now swollen and red as she cries under her mother's arm, hugging the folded flag as if it were her dad, while Molly holds her other and youngest daughter under the other arm.
Looking over at Will, you see that he's trying his hardest to keep his strong facade as well as the boys.
You slide your hand into his and whisper to remind him he's not alone and doesn't have to feel alone.
With a gentle squeeze to your hand, he nods.
"You with me?"
"I'm with you."
You and Will - as well as the guys and Tom's family - are the last to leave, reminding Molly that you're more than willing to help with anything.
Will, however, lingers a moment to speak to her private and tells her about the fund. You can tell from her reaction, she's genuinely surprised and thankful, relieved to know that she'll be able to pay for the funeral.
Having called your boss the previous day to let them know you wouldn't be going to work due to the funeral, you take the rest of the day off to recover from the overwhelming day after the funeral.
The drive home is quiet save for the rain against the car and the windshield, echoing into the vehicle which you insisted on driving to give Will some mental ease. He didn't put up a fight. He was quite relieved you'd offered.
In spite of being eager to understand how he's doing, you refuse to burden him with constant questions and decide to respect his mourning process. So, you keep a hand on his thigh to remind you're in this together.
He doesn't mind it at all. In fact, he is grateful for your respect and your thoughtfulness. His hand rests over yours and doesn't leave until you have to pull your hand back to turn the steering wheel, but it finds it's way back onto his leg, warm fully welcomed by his engulfing hand.
As you're undressing in your room, Will's hand catches yours while you're unzipping your dress.
"Thanks... I don't know about you, but I'd say this weather is perfect cuddling weather," you share letting the dress hang loosely off your shoulders.
Will smiles shyly as if you'd read his mind and locks his arms around your waist.
"I couldn't agree more."
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crisiscutie · 3 months
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pls more headcanons on yandere father sephiroth
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Let see what happens if darling strayed further from her set path than Sephiroth would have preferred... Yandere Musings here.
Content Warning: Slight NSFW. Emotional abuse. Yandere Sephiroth. Confinement. Brainwashing. Unhealthy and unsettling family dynamics. Rebirth spoilers.
You were sent by Sephiroth to conquer this strange, hidden world and merge it with his other dominions.
You got into a fight not long after your arrival. But your enemy talked you down and proposed an alliance to stop your father. You really hated the idea of betraying him, but this is necessary to find out who you really are.
You joined a group of adventurers looking to stop the energy of their world from being drained.
Sephiroth was closely observing your mission, but he was briefly distracted by other multiversal anomalies. Yet once he sensed you slipping away, he wasted no time in trying to reestablish his link to you.
His velvety, fatherly voice resonated in your head. "Sweet girl, have you done what I asked?" He said.
It was extremely difficult, but you've managed to ignore him.. Even with him saying those two special words.
He reached out again, this time his velvety voice being a mixture of a cold demand and a fierce warning. "Darling." Ugh, you could just feel him digging into your mind, scrounging whatever information he could get.
"Go away!" You said, shaking your head. You were able to expel him from your mind this time, but for how long? You already sensed his frown searing into your very soul, even when he's not near you.
Sephiroth's whispers quickly caught up to you and your new group of friends in no time. Despite your attempts to teach your friends about them, panic consumed them, and the whispers mercilessly picked them off, one by one.
Your will to fight vanished completely when one whisper transformed into your beloved father, wearing his traditional, malicious smirk. This smirk, usually reserved for his enemies and other lesser beings, grew wider upon seeing you.
Sephiroth made this massacre last a little longer. It'd help you truly understand the gravity of your defiance.
Tears welled up in your eyes just when he carried out the execution of the last human parasite - that damned boy who dared to steal his place.
You wanted to raise your blade and run it through Sephiroth, but something rooted you to the ground, making you tremble like hell and seem like that hapless, innocent girl that he always treated you as.
He menacingly approached you, blood still dripping from his Masamune. This transgression of yours cannot go unanswered.
He had grabbed your chin, his velvety words dripping with cruel fury as his face leaned in close, mere inches from yours.
"I gave you everything you needed. Wanted. And you repay me with this." He casually flicked the boy's blood off his blade, letting it stain the body of another one of your comrades.
"I'm sorry, Father! Please forgive me!" You broke down into his arms.
"You know I love you, don't you?" He said. You nodded in response.
"So you should know that I'm only doing this for your own good."
You became confused as he said those words and you looked back up at him. He wore the usual gentle, affectionate smile, but his slit eyes brimmed with rage.
Following that, he let out a chuckle and facepalmed when he had his epiphany.
Of course. You didn't fully understand what you were doing. You were only naturally indulging in a childish desire. He could only blame the boy who had tempted you away from your proper place.
Sephiroth hugged you and gave you a gentle head pat. "Sweet girl... I shall take you to a sacred place," he whispered.
He knew it was too early to introduce you to it, but he couldn't help himself this time.
"..a place where you'll learn just how much your father loves you!" His tone carried a twisted nostalgia as he cast a sleep spell on you, gently guiding your head to rest against his chest.
Later on, you found yourself confined within a pod, your face concealed while the rest of your body was bare. Tentacles coiled around you, piercing your flesh to inject corrupted essence into you. And a long metallic tube was connected to your stomach, channeling the energy of the last conquered world into you as well.
"Such power and beauty, just like your dear mother..." Sephiroth said.
The sight of you like this was so breathtaking. He was tempted to touch the pod, but refrained, as if it was too immaculate and sacred for his touch.
Your pleas and squirms went unnoticed as he was consumed by his twisted nostalgia.
"I must ensure that you retain your purity," he continued. "I cannot have you ruining it, especially with a mere human, can I?"
Your pleas ceased, and your squirming slowly subsided.
"You will become my sweet and obedient girl. One who will make me proud, and who will forever be by my side, and who will never hurt me," He seemed almost solemn for a second before he continued. "...I will protect you and your purity from everyone who would taint it. It will be for me, and me alone."
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Game over! Try again? 👈
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