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ayamago · 11 months ago

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meet me in amsterdam.

₊˚ ᗢ alhaitham x gn!reader, modern au.

⤷ based on the song, "meet me in amsterdam" by rini.

"I would sail across the world, row this boat from dusk til dawn."

Al-Haitham glances over at your figure, watching as you skipped rocks against the lake. The two of you abandoned your senior prom in favor of star gazing. He was dressed in a simple black tuxedo, with you wearing a rather fanciful garment. In true Al-Haitham fashion, he keeps a pair of headphones covering his ears. You, on the other hand, were dressed reasonably well tonight. The jewelry that hangs from your neck shimmered underneath the moon’s light. He resists the urge to reach out with his fingers to tuck your hair behind your ear.

The two of you originally came with different partners. Al-Haitham had an inkling to ask you to the dance but had been beaten by the Inazuman transfer student. So he ended up settling on taking Nilou. It must have been fate that led to both your partners leaving you to converse with one another. The silver-haired man doesn’t know whether or not he should pump up his fist in satisfaction, or give you sympathy. On one hand, he was glad that your partner walked off to talk to Nilou. On the other hand, he hated the heartbroken look plastered across your face when you were left alone on the dance floor.

And so here you were. He grabbed you by the hand, ignoring your protests, and dragged you to a place that no other teenager would be on a Saturday night. You joked to him that he might be taking you to a secluded location to murder you, to which he replied with a snarky comment about how no one in this world would consider taking you out. Not because of the low percentages of murder in your hometown, but because he’d be the person protecting you. It’s cheesy, he has to admit. He read a couple of romance novels to prepare himself for a possible relationship with you, so he figured that being that knight in fairy tales might help him come off as heroic or reliable.

He notes the way your frown turns into a small smile. Did he do something right? He dares to hope so. After knowing you for the majority of high school, he has yet to figure out whether or not you enjoyed his presence. Sure, you might say you tolerate him, but he just wishes that you could just admit it directly. Say that you liked to be with him. Say that you liked going out with him on Wednesdays. Say that you liked walking back home with him. He only wants a few words of appreciation and desire from you. Anything could do. As long as it's from you.

You don’t say much other than a few words about how the stars look bright tonight. You press your lips together, your eyes beginning to brim with tears as you try to tear your thoughts away from the misfortunes of prom. Al-Haitham can see the way you press your hand against the lower half of your face, your lips shivering at the cold weather.

He nonchalantly takes off his jacket and pulls it over your shoulders. You stare at him with a surprised reaction, something that pulls him closer to you. He holds himself back from doing anything more and sighs under his breath, brushing aside a few strands of his slightly messy hair. You squeeze the edges of his jacket, holding it close to you. Al-Haitham calls your name. He points to a few stars dancing above the clouds, dragging your eyes to where his fingers landed. He takes the time to describe to you a few of the constellations.

You can see the way his lips curve into a smile as his eyes glimmer at the prospect of sharing new information with you. You try not to laugh in the middle of his explanations. He’s always been so passionate about knowledge. Always digging his nose into books when everyone else would rather party or watch movies. He’s the most exciting friend you had and one that you can’t explain your feelings for. He keeps you grounded. Pulling you back when you start to wander a little too far.

Slowly easing yourself closer to his figure, you let your pinkies touch. He says nothing when they do. His ears grow slightly hot but he stays focused on talking about the Northstar. Saying nothing more to him, you lean your head against his shoulder, humming in contentment as his voice drowns out the worries in your head. Prom wasn’t as bad as you thought it would be. Perhaps you should have gone with him from the very beginning.

"There ain't no sunshine, no sunshine, where I was before."

Kaveh groans and reaches out to open Al-Haitham’s door, seeing that the room was pitch dark except for the small night light illuminating his restless figure. It was the same night light you’d gifted him when he was a high schooler, believing that it might scare away the restless nightmares that haunted him. It was a childish reason, Al-Haitham claims, he’s not some child that needs light because he’s afraid of the darkness. Yet he uses it every night, even now, when he’s in college. Not that you would know.

Kaveh scratches the back of his neck, leaning against the frame of the door, complaining about the tossing and turning he could hear from the other room. He wants to scold the younger man, but when he sees the way tears prickle at the edges of his eyes, he can’t seem to say anything. He presses his lips together as the silver-haired man pulls himself together. He’s in an upright sitting position with his back against the headboard, his arm held up in an attempt to shield his tears from the blond.

This was the first time the older man saw him so defensive. He’s always been high in the clouds, too far out of reach for him to believe that he could love. It’s absurd, he understands. Al-Haitham is human. He’s made of the same components as himself. He has flesh and blood running through him. A heart that beats a little too quickly to be caught. And being human comes with complicated feelings that twist and churn in his stomach.

Kaveh restrains himself from letting out a sigh when Al-Haitham wipes away at the corner of his eye, narrowing his eyes towards his roommate. He tries to snap at him with a snarky comment in an attempt to push him away. However, the blond knows him. Perhaps a little more than Al-Haitham gives him credit for. He pushes through the invisible force that drives him away, his figure resting at the end of his bed as he finally lets go of the breath he’s holding.

He knows about you through photos. Pictures Al-Haitham left on his phone. He wasn’t one to snoop yet when he saw your glimmering smile on the front of his wallpaper, it screamed to him. His curiosity got the better of him and he wanted to know who this mysterious person was. Don’t blame Kaveh for remembering Al-Haitham’s password. It was a straight line down the keypad: 2580852. Anyone could remember it. And he needs to change it asap if he doesn’t want Kaveh to see anything unnecessary.

He figures that something occurred between the two of you for him to act so vulnerable. Al-Haitham was the kind of person who would hide his feelings underneath snotty comments and a stoic face. But underneath he can be just as vulnerable as the next person. He has feelings and emotions that he is confused by. It stings and he doesn’t know what he could do to fix it. Reading books about his symptoms only leads him to a path of more confusion and utter nonsense. Had the circumstances been different, Kaveh would have mocked him for being a hopeless romantic.

Yet now was not the time. Even if he did theoretically hate Al-Haitham for his messy habits around the house, his incapability to clean up after himself, and the way he toss and turned in bed causing Kaveh to wake up in the middle of the night, he couldn’t leave him like this. So he asks him if he’s okay. His eyes eyeing him from the side as Al-Haitham lets out a scoff, shrugging it off. Very typical of him.

There was a moment of silence between the two. Neither of them talked. They only rested their shoulders, letting them slump over. Al-Haitham turns to the night light, his teal irises flickering from its existence to Kaveh’s. He figures that it was time to tell him about the darkness that plagues his mind. It would be better than clogging it up in every nook and cranny of his mind. And perhaps Kaveh might sympathize a little. Maybe he’d grow a bit more quiet around the house. And stopped nagging him about the books piling up on the coffee table.

Al-Haitham has long acknowledged his strange feelings for you, his childhood friend. He knows that the quickening beat of his heart was something more than simple jitters. The way you reached out to brush aside his hair left flickers of flames on his pale skin. Your smile that brightens up his day is the first thing he thinks of when he wakes up in the morning. And the lingering stare he has on his toothbrush makes him wonder what it would be like to have yours beside his.

But at last, it seemed as if you slipped through the cracks of his fingers. His inability to express to you his true feelings was left burning on the tip of his tongue. Even if he was a brutally straightforward man, he had his weaknesses. And one of those was you.

"Won't you come closer, let it take over."

Al-Haitham stares at you, frozen in his steps. You're at the same late that night of prom. This time at least, you had a few more layers of clothing to keep you warm from tonight's weather. In your hand was a small pebble that you twirled between your fingers. The tips of your nails glide against the rough surface before flicking your wrist, sending it flying a couple of steps.

It's been a while since he last saw you. You had moved away to a different college. He attended one further south, while you left for the north. You started a new life with a different job. Met a couple of new friends from Mondstadt. Your appearance was mainly the same, except for a few loose strands that fell to the sides of your cheeks.

You've seen each other a couple of times on your feeds. Al-Haitham has the habit of liking whatever you post. He hardly ever comments. If the day seemed right, he would drop a few lines asking about the book you're reading in the corner of the photo. But never something in an attempt to reconnect with you. He figured that you've grown too far out of his reach. And that perhaps it would be better if he allowed you to live your life without you.

It stung him for the majority of college. You and he called frequently in freshman year. However, it quickly diminished as the years went on. Your conversations diverged from asking him about his day to talking about your new coworkers and how you'll contact him when you get your new schedule. He tries to keep a smile on his face and nods to everything you say. He figures that his feelings for you might stay unrequited for a while. Maybe you knew from the start and didn't want to tell him, out of fear that you might embarrass him.

He’s unsure of what he should do at this moment. Should he reach out? Should he sit next to you? Could you still talk like the old days? He wrestles with the thoughts in his head, not noticing the way you turn your head to him, offering him the familiar kind-hearted smile he’s grown too fond of. He nervously sits beside you, his body still as a board while you chuckle.

He’s grown quite a bit since you last saw him in person. He was a little shorter when he was in high school. Now that you were older, he towered over you. He was always a quiet man, you knew this to be true. Despite being close friends for the majority of high school and a bit beyond, he never shared more than he had to. His face, while stoic, always implied that he was holding back something. His tongue was lodged further back than other people.

But that doesn’t matter now, does it? The two of you are older now. More mature than ever. The past mistakes you’ve created started to shape who you were today. And that person came back to him.

"I don't need anything, I just want you."

He remembers the feeling of your skin against him. When you pulled him by his fingers, guiding him through the open area of street markets. Older couples would stand outside their vendors, waving to people with the smell of freshly cooked food. Al-Haitham doesn’t say anything as you skipped around. The smile on his face says more than enough. Your eyes sparkled in excitement when you point to the mangos being sold in a cup. You had your signature bright smile, the one that would light up the entire world when it grows dark. It was the same familiar feeling he received whenever he turns on his childish nightlight.

He’s quiet when you notice an older stall, too busy being distracted by the warmth of your hand to make any rational decisions regarding your spending habits. You opened your wallet to pour out a couple of coins, handing it to the street vendor. In a matter of seconds, you hold up a few skewers towards Al-Haitham, gesturing for him to try the food. He drops a couple of snarky words towards you, but it was quickly silenced when you pushed the food against his lips. He lets out a sigh. He reaches out to hold your hand, the same one gripping the skewer, and settles by taking a bite.

You try to ignore the way your face grows a bit warmer when he chews slowly. His expression which had been neutral, morphed into enjoyment. He comments on the tenderness and how savory it was. You’ve always known that he liked meat but seeing him grow so close to you made you wonder what else you knew. He takes one more bite before pushing it back towards you, his eyes softening as he smiles. “You should try it as well,” he says, taking your other free hand and interlacing your fingers.

For some reason, you start to feel a bit nervous. You don’t say anything when he holds up the stick as you eat. The sparkle in your eyes continues to shine radiantly as you finish the rest of the food. A smile still spread across your face. Now, he’s the one pulling you to another vendor, pointing at a few items and ordering them for the two of you to try. He wants you to experience some of his favorites as well.

He doesn’t know how to describe this scene in words. Watching you enjoy a meal in front of him, your hands reaching out to feed him on the occasion sent waves of butterflies in his stomach. He questions if this was the start of something new for your relationship. Friends, close friends, distant friends, and back around to friends. Will you see something different in him if he continued to hint at his feelings? Could you feel his pulse whenever you hold his hand? Can you feel how quickly it beats for you?

He wants to express to you the words that have been lodged in his throat. The same ones that Kaveh wishes so desperately he could spill. Roommate or not, he says that this game of cat and mouse has gone on for too long. It was so blatantly obvious that he was still in love with you. So hopelessly, devoted to you, even when you’re so far out of reach sometimes.

He understands that he isn’t the first person people think of when it comes to romance. But he wants you to see him for who he was. Someone that could open up the world for you. Someone that would sail the seas just to embrace you underneath the moonlight. Someone who dreams of you every night, hoping that you might catch his lingering touches that sting like an ember.

He says something to you in another language. I like you, it translates. It causes you to perk up in interest as you lean your head against the palm of your hand. He blinks a few times before clearing his throat, rolling his eyes as you tease him about what he said. You poke and prodded at his cheek, pouting every time he gives you a dry answer. He would eventually shut you up by holding up a fork, shoving the rest of your food in your mouth.

He ignores your cries and moans, begging him to give you a translation of what he says. He only pushes your head away and squeezes your hand a little tighter. He hopes that you can’t see the way his pale skin reflects the red tint of apples.

“If there is a next time, meet me in Amsterdam”

He sucks in a deep breath when he pushes you down onto the sofa. Your eyes stare deep into his as your fingers glide across his skin. He tries not to whimper when you press against his rose-tinted lips. Your presence to him was addicting. It kept pulling him back and forth like an ocean wave. You’ve caught him in your net and he can’t find the power to break himself free.

Kaveh was out of the house today and the silver-haired man jumped at the opportunity to bring you over. It’s been months since you’ve first reconnected with him. Months spent so generously with the man before you. After spending a week in town, you decided to extend your say just a little bit longer. You wanted to explore this strange flame that had developed in your chest. And it would lead you here. Your back against the soft cushions as Al-Haitham pinned you down.

Oh, how he longed for this moment. For him to stare deep into your eyes with nothing more but fondness for you. For him to finally share how he feels without having to look over his shoulder. For him to finally tell you that he truly, wholeheartedly, loves you with everything he has. He wants to finally tell you that he’s been waiting since high school to hold your hand like this. Waiting throughout college to kiss you. Dreaming all this time to be yours.

He leans his forehead against yours, breathing in your scent as you smile. Was this the breaking of the dam? The flood that is your relationship, coming to crash against this wall? The tension that had been mimicking the push and pull of a rope was beginning to snap. And he could feel nothing except explosions at the pit of his stomach as he pressed his lips against yours. He holds onto you tightly, scared of losing you one more time.

But you stay. You bury your fingers in his hair, bringing him closer to you. He rested his weight against your stomach, fingers clutching onto your waist. Kocham Cię, he says when he breaks away from you. Air becomes short when he goes back to snatching your lips. Anh yêu em, he whispers against your skin. Seni seviyorum. He squeezes your waist. Eu te amo. He tilts his head just a little to capture you once more. Ya lyublyu tebya. He pulls away from you with heavy breaths.

He wants you to know how much he loves you. He wants you to see the number of times he’s held back on kissing you each time you smile. You were like the sun to him. So warm and out of reach at times, yet he desired you nonetheless. He waited years for this moment. And he wants nothing more than to indulge. If you would have him, he would give you everything. He would give you everything he is, and so much more.

Ich liebe dich, he kisses the side of your cheek. Wǒ ài nǐ, he kisses your forehead. Te quiero, he kisses your nose. You let out a few giggles as you attempt to push him away. Wrapping your legs around him, you keep him steady. His body is squished against yours. You begin to melt in his arms, his lips still kissing the surface of your skin. He looks into your eyes with those beautiful teal irises.

I love you, he finally says.

And you would reply with, I love you too.

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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crazy how we waited a week for another episode of the acolyte and after finishing the episode, qimir and osha didn’t show up not once. that just pmo fr..

#the acolyte #i’m actually losing it #like bro where is qimir #omggg #qimir #osha aniseya

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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𝟎𝟒 | 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐋𝐔𝐄 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐌𝐒 𝐄𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐍𝐀𝐋

Pairing: Jinx x Gender-Neutral Reader

Summary: In a world where the mere thought of her absence felt like losing a piece of yourself, you remained by her side. You walked in her footsteps until your own seemed to fade, drawn in by her chaotic spirit yet troubled by the idea of losing her.

Back to 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 & 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒?

𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

Hi everyone, just a heads up, this was a drabble, so it might sound a bit choppy and all, but it was all in good fun. If I ever did write an Arcane story, I'd definitely go all out, but for now, enjoy this little piece.

𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐂𝐇𝐄𝐃 𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐏 𝐀 𝐃𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐓𝐎𝐖𝐄𝐑 𝐈𝐍 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐄𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐅 𝐙𝐀𝐔𝐍, your legs dangled over the edge as your gaze stretched upward into the vast, cerulean expanse. The sky, paradoxically blue and melancholic, paints a somber backdrop to your solitude. Constellations, like fractured dreams, twinkle faintly, their stories etched in the cold darkness. The weight of your thoughts hangs heavy, pulling your head down even as you try to hold it high. Below, the world churns in shadows, but up here, you are alone with the silent whispers of the night, where the horizon seems both an end and a beginning.

Your mind drifts to thoughts of your old friend, a ghost from the past still buried deep within the trauma you carry. You remember her vividly—her striking blue hair that seemed to shimmer even in the dimmest light, and her piercing blue eyes that held both mischief and wisdom beyond her years. She was a whirlwind of energy, always a step ahead, yet somehow never leaving you behind. The nights spent whispering secrets under the stars, the laughter that echoed through the hidden corners of Zaun, all seemed like fragments of a distant dream now. The loss still stings, a dull ache that never quite fades, but up here, in the quiet embrace of the night, you allow yourself to remember. To reminisce about the friend who once colored your world in shades of blue.

Powder, that was her given name, fitting for a young girl whose fascination with tinkering led to explosive creations, even if they never worked as intended. She was a marvel in her own right, chaotic yet brilliant. But Powder ceased to exist after the Tragedy, giving rise to Jinx—a transformation that you struggled to fully embrace. You loved her deeply, having sacrificed much to remain at her side, but her evolution was as disorienting for you as it was for her. At times, doubts crept in about whether staying with her was the right choice. She was extraordinary, too good for this world, yet burdened unfairly by fate.

And her fears and worries only intensified in his presence. He ruled the Under City with all its darkness and allure, the very embodiment of malevolence. Yet, twisted as it was, he cared for Jinx in his own twisted way. You never trusted Silco; he was a corrupting influence who painted those who once cherished Powder as villains in her tale. Despite your efforts to steer her away from his influence, she was already lost to his sway. You knew this, yet you chose to stand by her. With a sigh, you shrugged, closing your eyes as the toxic winds of the city embraced you.

She ascended the stairs with a deliberate pace, drawing near to you while you remained oblivious to her approaching like a phantom. Her love for you ran deep, even if you couldn't fully grasp the intensity of her feelings. With her sister presumed dead and only Silco's words about it, you were now the sole anchor in her life, steadfast amidst the chaos and pain that threatened to overwhelm and break her.

She wrapped her arms around your neck, her fingers adorned with pink and blue nail polish catching your eye as you glanced down. You recognized her presence immediately, not just from the physical closeness but from the intimacy you shared. Feeling her embrace, you relaxed, allowing yourself a moment in her hold before she broke the silence with her words.

"Hey there, missed me, Toots?” She said, withdrawing her arms from around your neck and moving to sit beside you. Her blue eyes locked onto yours, waiting for your reply with an earnest and expectant expression.

As you gazed into her eternal blue eyes, you felt yourself drowning in an ocean of sadness.

How could you not miss her?

#arcane #jinx arcane #jinx league of legends #jinx x reader #jinx x you #arcane x reader #arcane x you #silco and jinx #silco arcane #drabble #oneshot

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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I might take matters into my own hands and write a qimir x reader fic

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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𝟎𝟏 | 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔

Pairing: Qimir x Female Reader

Summary: He keeps to himself and avoids others, yet he takes a strong interest in you. Stranded as a disillusioned Padawan on a mysterious island, you meet Qimir, a dark sider who begins to intrigue you deeply. Spending time together, you find yourself drawn to Qimir in ways that make you question your morals.

Back to 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 & 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒?

𝐋𝐈𝐕𝐄-𝐀𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐇 𝐖𝐀𝐒 𝐃𝐄𝐒𝐄𝐑𝐓𝐄𝐃, save for your lone figure seated gracefully upon the wet sand. Rain cascaded down from the somber sky, draping the scene in a veil of mist and melancholy. You sat cross-legged, your hands clenched in your lap, shoulders hunched forward against the downpour. The storm of emotions from your argument with Qimir still raged within you, leaving you uncaring of the cold seeping through your drenched clothes.

You had heard many unsettling tales about the dark side of the Force, stories that left you questioning its nature. Why, you wondered, did they preach detachment from emotions that made them human — emotions so raw and beautiful? It was Qimir, the stranger, who stirred these doubts within you. His words hinted at a different perspective, one where passion and power were not condemned but celebrated. Could it be, you pondered, that there was truth in what he said? That perhaps the path to understanding the Force wasn't through suppression but through embracing all aspects of oneself, even those that others feared?

You cursed your mind for entertaining such thoughts, fearing that questioning the Jedi teachings could lead to your exile. No, you knew it undoubtedly would. Yet despite the looming threat of ostracism, you couldn't suppress your curiosity. The stranger's unsettling words continued to echo in your mind, challenging everything you had been taught about the Force. The storm's relentless downpour mirrored the turmoil within you as you sat on the desolate beach. You dared to seek out the truth, not through the Jedi's strict rules of detachment, but through embracing the emotions that made you human — raw and beautiful, yet forbidden.

Lost in deep thought, you hadn’t noticed Qimir’s quiet approach. The rain enveloped you in its chaotic embrace, and he observed you with a concerned expression. He had approached silently, concerned that you might fall ill from running out into the downpour. Mixed with this worry was a feeling of guilt for pushing you to the point where escaping him seemed necessary. His unexpected presence startled you, disrupting the solitude of the beach and the turmoil within. You wondered if your hasty departure had stirred concern in him, if his coming to find you meant he cared for you in his own way. Despite feeling uneasy, you couldn’t stay mad at him for long, especially since you were both stranded together on the island.

"I knew I'd find you here," he whispered quietly, his words not lost on you as you heard him.

"I wasn't attempting to hide from you, I just needed space," you say, matter-of-factly. Though your tone is calm, there's a hint of lingering frustration. "Being close to you wasn't helping clear my head."

You could tell by the way he was staring at you that he was lost in thought. Was it your beauty that captivated him, or was he considering broaching the very topic that had driven you away? You suspected it was the former. He chewed the inside of his cheek, a habit you had noticed whenever he was uncertain. The two of you had been stranded on this island for three weeks now. While it might seem like a short time to him, it felt like a lifetime to you. During your time together, he had discovered many things about you. One of the most notable traits being your determination to explore every corner of the island, searching for a way off. It was clear to him that your eagerness to find an escape route stemmed not just from a desire to leave the island, but also from a growing discomfort with being near him, almost as if you harbored a deep resentment toward him.

"Do you hate me, [Your Name]?" He asked, sitting down next to you on the wet sand, unconcerned about getting wet from the downpour. "Sometimes it seems like you do."

The question caught you off guard, and as you began to speak to formulate a response, he cut you off again. "I know we don't always see eye to eye, or ever, on our beliefs. But I didn't come out here to discuss the Jedi Order or anything related to it. I came because I was genuinely worried about you getting sick."

As you looked at him, your heart beat rapidly, its rhythm drowning out the sound of the pouring rain. You wondered if he could hear it too, if perhaps even the gods could hear it. You felt like a jerk; despite being stuck on the island together for so long, you had never made an effort to truly understand him. Often, you kept your distance not out of hatred, but because you couldn't comprehend his choices. Why the dark side, you pondered, yet at the same time, you found yourself understanding aspects of his perspective. It was all so confusing.

"I don't hate you, Qimir," you said softly, turning your gaze back to the ocean ahead. Your cheeks warmed, and you felt a rush of heat through your body. "I just. . . I don't understand you, and that scares me."

"I want an Acolyte, the power of two: a master and his pupil," he stated. "To be free, to live as I see fit. The Jedi Order doesn’t agree with that," he explained, as if seeking to bridge the gap between you two, helping you understand him better.

“Maybe there’s more to the Force than what the Jedi teach,” you pondered aloud, cautiously testing the waters. “Could you show me? Teach me how you see it?”

"Yes, I would like that, [Your Name]," he said softly, his words flowing like honey wine. Standing up, he brushed off his soaked clothes. Looking down at you, a faint blush painted his cheeks as he extended his hand. "Come on, I don't want you catching a cold."

As you take his hand, he draws you close to his chest, leaning in so his lips brush against the shell of your ear as he whispers, "And earlier, you said being close to me wasn’t helping clear your head. I didn’t realize I had that much of an affect on you, my flower."

“In your dreams, Qimir,” you say, trying to pull away from his grasp. But before you can, he plants a gentle kiss on your forehead. “Qi. . . Qimir, what are you doing?”

"I just wanted you to know that I cherish you, [Your Name], so please give me a chance. Love someone who's willing to go as deeply as you can.”

#qimir x reader #qimir the acolyte #x reader #the acolyte #star wars #star wars x reader #qimir x you #qimir fic #oneshot

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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𝟎𝟎 | 𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐂𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 𝐎𝐅 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓𝐒

Here, you will find a detailed list of all my live-action one-shots, categorized and organized by the respective show or movie. She/her pronouns are frequently used in these works.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐄

𝟎𝟏 | 𝐈 𝐇𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔, 𝐈 𝐋𝐎𝐕𝐄 𝐘𝐎𝐔 [𝐐𝐈𝐌𝐈𝐑, 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐀𝐂𝐎𝐋𝐘𝐓𝐄]

He keeps to himself and avoids others, yet he takes a strong interest in you. As a disillusioned Jedi stranded on a mysterious island, you meet Qimir, a dark sider whose formidable strength you soon recognize.

𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐎𝐔𝐓𝐄𝐑 𝐁𝐀𝐍𝐊𝐒

#oneshots #masterlist #the acolyte #qimir the acolyte #qimir x reader #oneshot #obx #obx x reader #rafe cameron x reader #rafe obx x reader

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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01 - blank rounds tour.

₊˚ ᗢ synopsis; your childhood friend and bandmate moved away from your hometown to pursue music, leaving you behind. you break away from the punk rock scene, slowly building up your idol persona until you eventually move to tokyo, not to find love, but to find yourself.

⤷ genres/warnings; smau, band/idol au, slow burn, pining, fluff, angst, implied sexual intercourse, social media drama, scandals, toxic relationships, fem!reader.

⤷masterlist; previous + next.

⤷ taglist open (26/50)

@june-again @starlitglitter @yourfavoritefreakyhan @eutopiastar @fa1rychain5

@rains-mae @kyon-cherri @lacrimae-lotos @kana-de @kayla-drawz

@gyuriac @kaitfae @sukisukiii @astolary @whipped-for-fictionals

@chemiru @kazuhasmaid @hotpancakesworld @danhenglovebot

@c4ttheart @dopi1i1 @sentifua @yelleloww @baskettt

@lucreied

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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✟ | 𝐖𝐇𝐈𝐓𝐄 𝐎𝐋𝐄𝐀𝐍𝐃𝐄𝐑 『𝐌𝐎𝐑𝐈𝐀𝐑𝐓𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐏𝐀𝐓𝐑𝐈𝐎𝐓』

You are incarcerated after being charged with theft and murder. You have been waiting for your punishment for decades; the wounds on your body are the result of bashings you endured at the hands of the guards who loathe you. However, you eventually receive your independence and are given to William James Moriarty as protector. You reclaim vitality with the help of his devoted team and under his caring guidance, emerging as the trump card in a complex game of power. Will you, who has nothing to lose, devise a fresh course for the colonial power?

Back to 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 & 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒?

Explore 𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓?

It may be best to note that this is an initial draft from a year ago. I remain fond of this concept for a story within Moriarty the Patriot, yet I am uncertain whether to eventually develop it into a one-shot to complement my book. The decision will depend on the reception of this preliminary teaser.

“Death Angel,” The caller's chilly tone does little to conceal his callous demeanor. The Magistrate extends his dominant hand, rendering the room as quiet as a mouse as he reclines in his chair. He was waiting for your self-effacing voice and reaction. “Should you regain your independence, there will undoubtedly be a cost. You will be in William James Moriarty's custody until you can live independently. Have you any. . . concerns?”

As you watched unknown faces reorganize their notes alongside each other, pens resting between the cushions of their thumb and index finger, you thumped your fingertips against the stand, suddenly understanding your surroundings. When the stark, unforgiving nature of your situation was revealed to you, it seemed as though your worst nightmares had come true. You are made conscious of the fact that you are a vestige of what you can only describe as the past, standing idly amid a group of individuals who despise and detest you, having been summoned by the Magistrate himself. He regards you as a wicked, deplorable human being, and he desires to eradicate your existence from the planet. You tilted your head in his direction and let him look into the hollows of your eyes. You might have thought this was a phenomenal prospect for a fleeting exhibition of atonement to stave off the risks that are unavoidably waiting before you.

“I don't have anything against the modifications,” You began, "This individual you speak highly of is someone I will personally try to help. . . be of assistance to. Because he is my keeper, I can only become free through him.”

#moriarty the patriot x reader #moriarty the patriot #william james moriarty x reader #x reader

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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Hi! I'm a really huge fan of ur writing and its amazing how you always portray the perfect themes that I've been looking for in your fanfics and one shots. Unfortunately, I'm unable to find few of ur fanfics like there aren't any links or anything like only introductions given in this page. So do you mind reposting those fanfictions so I'm able to read them?

Thank you 🤍

Btw I'm in love with that kou mabuchi one, would love to see a longer ver. <3

Ah, thank you so much for your kind words regarding my writing style; it truly means a lot. Currently, I haven't begun publishing the works, which is why you can't find any links. However, your encouragement serves as motivation for me to revisit these projects and bring them to fruition soon. I'm also happy to announce that I intend to create a lengthier version of the Kou Mabuchi story. Your support is deeply appreciated, and I look forward to sharing more with you in the future. ♡︎

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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Hi where could I read your fanfics?

Hi, thank you for expressing interest in my fanfiction. Currently, I haven't published any due to a minor hiatus and time constraints. However, I do plan to release some in the near future, including a longer version of the Kou Mabuchi story. I appreciate your enthusiasm and will keep you updated once they are available for reading. ꨄ

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ayamago · 1 year ago

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Hi-hi! Out of curiosity, if you're still into Shaman King, would you consider writing for Amidamaru, Bason, and the other ghost companions like headcanons?

Hope you have a lovely day btw, I love your writing! <3

Ah, thank you for the kind words! I'm glad you enjoy my writing.

As for your request, I'd be happy to write some headcanons for Amidamaru, Bason, and the other ghost companions. While I haven't been actively following Shaman King recently, I appreciate the enthusiasm and love for the series. Please give me a prompt or specific theme you'd like the headcanons to focus on, and I’d be happy to write them! :)

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ayamago · 2 years ago

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𝟎𝟑 | 𝐒𝐈𝐓𝐓𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐍𝐄𝐗𝐓 𝐓𝐎 𝐌𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈-𝐊𝐔𝐍 [𝐌𝐀𝐁𝐔𝐂𝐇𝐈. 𝐊]

He is neither someone who readily opens up nor seeks social interaction. Yet he yearns to share his thoughts and experiences with you. Despite his initial indifference, he gradually gives in to the overwhelming appeal of experiencing the most intimate form of tenderness - friendship.

Back to 𝐁𝐔𝐋𝐋𝐄𝐓𝐈𝐍 𝐁𝐎𝐀𝐑𝐃 & 𝐒𝐔𝐌𝐌𝐀𝐑𝐈𝐄𝐒?

𝐎𝐍𝐄-𝐒𝐇𝐎𝐓 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓.

Your eyes gently flickered to the side, your gaze fixating upon Kou as he rested his head on the desk with quiet composure. The calm, rhythmic rise and fall of his breaths created a soothing symphony that resonated in your ears. You observed the evening, your gaze drawn to the window adorned with billowing curtains. The trees swayed gracefully, their branches gently caressing one another in a synchronized dance, while the birds flitted across your field of vision, resembling celestial constellations.

Although it had been a few weeks since you assumed the role of class representative, the progress you and Kou had made on the team collaboration paper seemed minimal and lacked significance. Many of the sentences you had written appeared redundant, focusing excessively on themes of happiness and friendship. Friendship held a profound place in your heart, as you believed it to be a transformative force that brought sunshine to your life, replacing clouds. You sought those rare individuals who would have a lasting impact, and you believed Kou to be one of them. However, he frequently disregarded your attempts to form a friendship.

Clutching the pencil between your fingertips, you couldn't shake off the melancholic feeling that clung to you. It tugged at you, wrapping you in its somber embrace. Deep down, you knew Kou would never show interest in being friends. Yet, you couldn't ignore the loneliness that lingered in his brown eyes, making you yearn to be by his side. Even if it meant being kept at arm's length. . . you wanted to offer your support.

You chewed on your bottom lip before being quickly brought back to reality. His scruffy hair and placid gaze conveyed a sense of calm that you had never previously witnessed. Normally guarded with a mysterious countenance, his vulnerability was laid bare in his sleep. You pursed your lips and felt a twinge of sadness as you watched the cadence of his calm breathing. The sight of his beauty intertwined with the visible scars of his past evoked a sense of helplessness that reverberated through you. It was like being caught amid a swirling snowstorm, the realization of his fragile state growing stronger with each passing moment.

In a gentle and deliberate manner, you leaned forward in your chair, your body extending towards him with a quiet grace. You noticed the soft sheen of his cheeks, glistening in the warm embrace of the sun's rays. Your fingertips tenderly stroked his raven-colored hair as you held out a hand. Your cheeks lightly flushed from his evident cuteness.

As you watched Kou, your expression softened and a faint grin appeared on your lips. You gently pulled your hand back and picked up the pencil to get back to your task, continuing to work on your prior assignment. You began to wonder if you had always been so susceptible to distraction. A large amount of writing remained to be completed.

Kou's eyelids fluttered open, temporarily confused by the dazzling lights that briefly caused his eyesight to become somewhat blurry. He couldn't help but notice your absence and long for your touch, which he had been enjoying in secret. Your presence meant something significant to him. His head was slightly raised as he discreetly regarded you, going unnoticed by your fixed gaze. His bangs somewhat cloud his vision of you. He watched as your eyebrows pinched in intense concentration as you carefully penned sentences on the page. While the birds outside fluttered and danced to the beating of his heart, your warm and tender eyes were lost in deep thought.

He gradually exhaled, enjoying the wonderful aroma of your perfume. He was completely immersed in the scent, which gave him a pleasant and peaceful feeling.

He watches you with fatigue that has been building up in his mind due to the monotonous nature of homework. He performs insufficiently, and there are times when he even seems to doze off as you painstakingly finish your work. His exhaustion is apparent. He gently reaches out his arm to you and takes the pencil-holding hand in his fingers. He reaches for the pencil you are holding with a gentle touch, setting it lightly on the desk. His fingers entwined with yours, making the contact soothing. As your eyes meet in quiet agreement at that precious moment, time seems to stand still.

You held back the growing warmth that threatened to change the color of your cheeks as your hands gradually rubbed against one another.

Your eyes grew wide, "Stay with me," as he softly interlaced your fingers, bringing them nearer to him. He rubs your fingers gently against his cheek, his face sporting a slight blush. You jerked back slightly, taken aback by the action. "Please stay."

You gave him a soft smile that was tinged with melancholy and told him, "Mabuchi-kun, I'm not leaving." He gently placed his head against yours as you leaned in close to him, letting you see his frailty.

You understand at that point that his acts served as an invitation to a friendship. It was the chance you had been waiting for, a chance to express to him some of the love you had been holding inside. . . And perhaps this will signal the start of something new and meaningful.

#kou mabuchi #kou mabuchi x reader #ao haru ride #ao haru ride x reader #x reader

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