#i don't want to carry a child though its a beautiful thing | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

alavestineneas · 6 months

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i can feel the soil falling over my head; no people are here, just the void in my chest

pairing: Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen x fem!reader summary: Harkonnen men rarely wed; they just take what they capture—men and women—and turn them into slaves. Some, if particularly sweet, are reserved for fucking. There are no special songs for that; there isn't a specific word in their native tongue for wife, either. warnings: mentions of death, violence, implied/referenced child abuse, religious symbolism, daddy and sister issues, bald men chapter 1 - chapter 2 word count: 6,5K

author's note: hi beautiful people! this chapter may be classified as a prologue (yes, I am aware of its size, sorry, lol), but it is still integral to the story. we love evil people, especially evil bald people, in this house, so have fun and don't forget to wash your hands before reading! also, if you see things that are not canon, just know that me and the books are two parallel lines and we do not cross. feel free to point out grammar mistakes, though - english is not my first. love you!

Kaitain, 10176 AG

The violent streaks of light fight with the heavy cloth of drapes to find their way into the small, stifling chambers. The time was slowly crawling towards noon in the heavy summer heat, and the woman lying on the heavily decorated sheets was battling to get a breath in. Whether because of the annoying star, or the poisoning waiting, the patterns of sweat stained her tired face with esculent ornaments. Her lips, formed into a thin line, gleamed with small spots of dried crimson.

''Where is the messenger?'' The woman's voice was barely above a whisper, her eyes glued to the dancing light filtering through the window. ''The girl is strong; I can't hold her for much longer.''

The black figure on the chair in the corner slightly shifted at words. She was veiled, despite the heat—like a black hole, she seemed to suck the little air left. ''Forbearance,'' her raspy voice cuts through the room. ''The child makes you impatient. Control yourself.''

''I've waited, and waited long enough,'' the woman snapped, her frustration evident in her trembling hands. ''A few more minutes and all that is left of her will be a corpse.''

''Be quiet, Echidna. The child will live. If not, she was never meant to be part of our world in the first place.''

The woman clenched her jaw in a wave of pain and nodded. The girl ought to see the light of this planet today. Deep in her thoughts, she almost missed the rushed steps behind the door.

One of the Emperor's guards burst into the room, his eyes almost frantic. ''Lady Anirul has graced the Imperium with a daughter.''

Echidna smiled in relief, but her expression quickly changed as a beast-like cry pierced the air. The child was coming, with little care for the damage it caused to her aching womb. She tore the tissue down to the individual cells, gnawing her way with fists and elbows, moving the bones aside with brute force. Soon, her own cries were answered by much louder ones, as the head of the girl showed itself, covered in a thick layer of almost black blood. Just for a moment, the woman wished it would not steal another breath from the room, but she sharply composed herself. With a final push, the child left her body forever, leaving it a raw wound.

The small creature shrieked when the black figure approached, and slender, wrinkled arms took it from the warmth of rufous-red liquid. Echidna watched as the figure carried the girl away, resting her hurting body against the soaked pillows. She fulfilled her duty; she granted Bene Gesserit the daughter they wanted. She is bleeding under a beautiful sun; she is holding the ghost of her child in her arms—the real one was never hers anyway. Echidna knows the Emperor will not come. From now on, it is just her and her never-passing pain. Thus, Kaitain, home to the Corrino dynasty, was warmed by the light of a new sun—Princess Irulan, an heiress to the Imperium—and chilled by the shadow of her sister, born a few minutes later.

The calmness of the gardens was disturbed only by the soft strokes of brushes against a thick canvas. YN sighed, her eyes still fixed on the tree nearby, its young branches swaying with the wind. Her body ached from stillness, the tension in her neck from holding her head slightly bowed spreading down to her small back. They posed for a portrait of what seemed like an eternity to a child, and was almost it to an adult who dared to inquire; the painter, while satisfied with the draft, looked at the group of young girls almost in fear—no normal child of that age would be unmoving for three hours. And yet, they were.

YN felt one of her sisters shift even through the thick fabric of her silver dress. Small Chalice turned, her cheeks red from the heat or tiredness, her lips forming a pout—the child was tired, sleepingly rubbing her eyes. YN thought for a moment, debating if the punishment would be worth it, or if her sisters could wait just a little bit more until the man with colours would end the session for today. She noticed how Irulan's face was starting to droop, her eyes fluttering closed and opening just a second later. Their youngest, Wensicia, was already asleep in Irulan's arms; her golden hair spread across her and YN's laps as a beautiful cover, shining under the faint sun.

''I am tired, Master Chen. We should end the painting for today,'' YN finally spoke; her voice was almost a whisper. She did not know whether it was not to awaken her sister or out of fear of the Emperor's anger; it did not matter. The man nodded and left, taking his canvases with him, leaving only a few drafts behind. Then, the sisters were left alone in the garden.

''Thank you,'' Irulan said softly, placing her head on YN's shoulder.

YN only nodded. Her eyes found the paper not so far away, her gaze studying the strokes of the pencil with interest. Wensicia, a beautiful girl of two, was smiling brightly, holding an olive branch in her chubby hands, her small feet peeking under the hem of her white dress. Small Chalice was at the opposite end of her, her curly hair surrounding her head like a halo as she leaned forward, holding a small dove inside her palms. Then, sitting at the bench, surrounded by lush greenery and bushes, they. Irulan and the Other.

YN was placed just a step away from her older sister, her head turned away from the gaze of the viewer. The delicate folds of her silver dress carefully cascaded down, creating an air of mist around them. Her hands were empty; she did not know if the artist hadn't decided with each object to grace her with, or left them hollow intently. She looked like a shadow—a ghost, maybe; her eyes were escaping the viewer as if hiding a secret.

Irulan was different. She was a sun-kissed creature, her head facing straight ahead. Her eyes, as if inviting for a challenge, were made from duty, steel. With a burning star on her regal forehead, crowning the streaks of golden hair, Irulan was water and air, dulcet and ever-bending; her figure held the place and her pose was distinct and commanding.

YN looked at the girl beside her, who was now quiet nearby. Irualn was wise, the wisest of the sisters; her eyes were all-seeing, her heart all-knowing. She was created in the shape of a mother since they could walk, and the small ones bathed in her light, drinking her till the last drop —like flowers following the warm embrace of the sun. The only one who could not enjoy the love was her, the Other. The other sister, the other half. For they have been too close in age, too similar to let each other pretend the burden was not a heavy one to bear.

When Irulan was natural in her all-caring shape, YN had to claw her way to the only role left—the father. An unbent tree, a silent soldier—she was not born to fit as one, but wishing for a different order of things was almost blasphemy. That's how it always was with them—out of two, one was the protector, the other - the protected. "Husband," Irulan humorously called her often. She smiled, and, for a moment, the wave of resentment in YN's soul calmed. She never called her wife in return: Irulan was too whole to be one, too proud to be moulded into. She stood alone, on a higher pedestal than all of them, closest to the Emperor, whom the Other was to call father, and closest to the Truth. No, Irulan was God.

God does not know how to love someone who is not his servant, because there is no one who would refuse to serve him; it is the only way. God guides, despite all one's protests. God gives, and God takes. God demands; Irulan demands—silent obedience without a need to explain or answer. That, she takes from their father. So, the Other takes a blade into her hand without compassion for her dead wishes and learns to wield it in God's name. She is the one little ones turn to when the world is too wicked for their fragile souls when the creatures under their beds lose all of their human form and turn violent. She takes their sins and bears the punishments, for they are not deserving of such cruelty. YN thinks not of her own guilt—what difference would one scourage make to one who counts in centuries? And when the sun shone, and God smiled, the Other almost forgot of the bruises she carried.

The first time he saw her, it was not supposed to happen at all. Feyd-Rautha just closed the door to Maester's chambers with such force that it shook against lean walls; the grumble echoed in the long corridors of Giedi Prime's fortness. The ache in his body was muted, but still present; the torn flesh inside his heart howled and clawed, slicing the ribcage in half. He would've screamed, or perhaps beat his hands bloody against the concrete until the dull pain turned into something as sharp as his knife's blade. Maybe he would've drowned himself in a small water bowl by his nightstand and done anything to escape the shame and humiliation that consumed him from within. But instead, Feyd-Rautha stood still, his jaw clenched tight and his breathing shallow. One day, it will pass. One day, he will see the world choke on its own spit.

That's when he noticed a small, shadow-like figure at the end of the hallway staring at him. A girl, not older than him, was in a dress so foreign to him that it hurt his eyes. The daughter of the Emperor, he guessed. One of many—only then would the golden stitching on her sleeve would make sense.

''What are you doing here?'' he barked, caring little for the common courtesy. Of course, she was a guest almost as prized as her father, but she was in his territory and dared to look at him for long enough without averting her eyes. Long enough to notice the bruising on his pale skin and a swelness surrounding his lips. Long enough to hear him cry.

''I was walking with my mother, but then I turned into the wrong hall,'' she shrugged. ''Will you be kind enough to show me the way out? Or should I find it myself?"

Feyd-Rautha ignored her question. What a weird creature she was—with cascades of hair and eyes that seemed to see too much. ''It is dangerous to walk these halls without guard, Princess.'' It is dangerous to be here, alone with him and the weapon strapped to his hip, but he did not add it.

''There is no use of guards if the one who wishes to kill you is their master.'' The girl took a step forward, pointing to the weapon at his side. "I am not afraid."

Feyd-Rautha laughed. It came out more as howling than human sounds, the abrupt nature of it ringing with high notes, tip-toeing down to hysterical; it sounded creaky, like his throat was not made for such sounds; yet here he was, laughing. ''Come,'' he gestured to her, his hand moving quickly, like ordering a slave around. ''I will show you why you should be.''

So, they walked. Inside the grandiose chambers and small rooms, filled with ancient artefacts or the newest technology Harkonnens came up with; inside the green lavish garden inside the dim castle and the training grounds, Feyd-Rautha showed every place that was built to display the greatness of his house and bestone fear inside both guests and people inhibiting it. He wanted to see the horror in the girl's eyes, to make her eyes water and her frame flee. Instead, he listened to her steady breathing just a step behind him, her curious questioning satisfying another need he did not know his heart possessed: reverence.

He was the youngest member of the ruling line, the smallest stone in the castle of power his uncle had built. His title meant nothing within these walls; he was too small in comparison to the Baron and his authority. Feyd-Rautha was feared, despite only being nine; he was the shadow in the corner that grew longer as the sun set, the whispered name that sent shivers down spines. But here, in the hallway he led the girl into, he turned out to be something else.

''Stunning,'' the girl whispered beside him.

Weapons. The walls, from the floor to the high ceilings, were covered in ritual and fighting blades. The pride of house Harkonnen, the tree of their dynasty, black, silver, golden, and steel knives, swords, and daggers gleamed in the dim light. Feyd-Rautha smiled, revealing a row of sharp teeth. "Welcome to our burial ground."

They stopped near every one, his voice briefly covering the story of each blade and his owner; barons that came before him; fighters and rules that defined their legacy. Some still have blood on them—the highest honour; some look almost virgin. The small signs underneath them tell the names of people who wielded these weapons, their stories forever immortalised in the cold metal. ''Each Harkonnen ruler is crafted a blade of his own, the one he is to honour in battle.''

The girl nodded, her fingers tracing the shape of the last blade carefully. Her palms danced around the sharp edge, taking in the ancient symbols she had no chance of knowing. ''Will you have to kill Baron Vladimir in order to have one, like he did with his father before?''

Feyd-Rautha paused. Of course, he has thought about it before. The idea he repeated like a mantra in his head for all of his short life, the belief that spread burning flames down his spine. The words left his mouth for the first time but felt almost natural against his cracked lips. ''I dream of the day I have the chance to.''

The pair of foreign eyes that stared back at him held a glint of intrigue that quickly changed with a flash of acknowledgement. Feyd-Rautha held the gaze; not a single thing about it was hard. Still, he was the first to turn away; the burning sensation of being seen made him want to tear his flesh apart. ''Let me escort you to your rooms, Princess. The walls grow colder as the evening approaches.''

The weather on the planet leaves too few guards out of their breath, Irulan notes. The striking sun burns through the rounded windows of man-built walls, the frankly depressing landscape of huge boxes constructed with little intent for anything else but utilitarianism. She must not fear, while those lands will also be under her power with time, but the dreadful atmosphere of the lonely planet makes her skin break out in hives.

She believes the people here are more terrifying. White, hairless creatures with eyes as dark as the sun above them speak with just nods and courseys, paying little to no attention to the world around them, save for the concrete floors. ''Tell them to set themselves on fire, and they will,'' Irulan recalls Baron Vladimir telling her father over the banquet. She believed it to be a simple boast at first, but now, after a few days in the strange world, the words make greater sense.

Perhaps, the harsh weather made people here hardened. Perhaps, such cruelty is necessary for survival. What terrorised her more was her sister—the one who now silently reads nearby, her long dress carelessly spread on the floor. Irulan would never allow her dress to wrinkle before the concluding dinner, but she is not Irulan. Despite them being demisisters, they shared fewer similarities than one could guess. Two lambs, as many in court would call them—the white and black ones. They knew one another better than anything else; where one went, the other followed. Where Irulan failed, her sister succeeded. What was allowed for her sister, was fobility towards Irulan. No one was embedded in their small circle; no one could get close enough to understand the bond they shared—together, they were whole.

Yet as they grew older, the bond seemed to thin. The path to the mind of her sister was more often closed to her now, her thoughts veiled by the silence rooted deep into her veins. Irulan knows they are just growing up, trying to find their path in the unknown. But she is scared; what would be of her without her sister? What use would the river have without fish to fill it?

''I shall go,'' her sister says, closing the book. ''The dinner starts soon, and I wanted to return the book before it.''

''Is it the one Na-Baron recommended?'' Irulan voices. Truth be told, she would never touch anything that Baron or his family possessed, even more recommended, but her sister seemed to enjoy the ancient text.

''It is. Rather interesting are the traditions of these people. Did you know their slaves have no tongues?''

Irulan feels sick to her stomach; the thought of having slaves brings the small bits of her recent meal to her very present tongue. ''Can I come with you?'' she asks, instead of answering. Irulan does not want to leave the faint safety of her rooms, but even more, she does not want to be left alone. She feels vulnerable—she is not of power here, despite being the embodiment of it in all of the other corners of the Imperium.

''You know I walk without guards.''

Irulan knows. While she is not able as much as bathe without the presence of someone with fighting knowledge, the rules do not seem to apply to her younger sister; she can move freely, as she wishes. Was it because she carried a thin blade with her and knew how to use it, or because of the lack of care from their father? Irulan was not sure. What she was sure of, was that no woman of twelve should leave her sister alone in the halls of Harkonnens' fort.

''It is just to the reading room and back, is it not?''

''Yes,'' her sister nods. ''I'll take you,'' it means.

So, they walk. Fortunately, the guards usually waiting outside are nowhere to be found, and they manage to slip away unnoticed. Irulan holds the hand of her sister tightly, with each noise from the outside digging her nails deeper into her soft palm. Her sister says nothing; she steps calmly into the labyrinth of corridors, navigating them without much evident trouble. Soon, they find themselves in front of a huge black door, incarnated with words Irulan hold no knowledge of.

Inside, the chamber is massive; it forms a beautiful, round circle with ceilings so high that the air in it is always chilly. Rows of books and manuscripts fill the shelves out of oxidant, contrasting starkly with the white wall. The black circle table of cold stone is filled with replicas and ancient artefacts, each emitting a soft glow.

Who knew the small, desert planet held such treasures inside? Irulan forgets about her sister entirely—the texts call to her, golden lettering shining under the light. Irulan follows the names on the covers: legends, myths, histories, and art overviews. Some even contained gardening and soil research; Baron likely held those for a good laugh.

Irulan travels deeper and deeper until the voice of her sister addressing the only library keeper almost disappears, consumed by tall bookcases. The section she finds herself in is solely dedicated to martial arts; where, if not here, would the hundreds of books on such a topic be stored? Some of them are used; the spines are slightly older; others look brand new.

Irulan is brought to her senses only when she notices a black figure moving in the corner of her vision. She puts the book back and Listens. Just like the Sisters taught her, her inner ear picks up the faint voice of her sister, and the moving of two sandaled feet—the slave handling the books. She feels something else, too. A presence familiar enough to recognise but not enough to name.

''We have to go,'' she says, grabbing her sister by the shoulder and pressing. ''We will be late,'' she explains to the slave. Not that it would question the whims of the princess.

''Why?'' her sister turns to her, confused. ''I was looking at some other books. Weren't you also?''

''Please,'' Irulan whispers. ''We spent enough time here as it is.''

Just as her sister was about to answer, the atmosphere shifted. The air, sitting in its calmness, heavied. The silent before slave turned on its feet, its eyes burning holes in Irulan's body. It lurches towards them, opening its obsidian mouth to show the blackened void inside—indeed, it possesses no tongue.

Irulan freezes. The void seems to suck her in, the sharp mouth growing wider as its owner approaches her body. The fear paralyses her, planting her otherwise quick feet deep into the ground. Now, her training as Bene Gesserit should awaken—she should oppose, or at the very least dodge, the attack. But the black mouth continues to draw her in, clouding her thoughts with terror.

The body beside her shifts; her sister is quick. With one strong thrust, she pushes Irulan aside. '' Hide ,'' the voice within her head commands, and Irulan has no force to object to the technique. She crawls under the heavy stone, frantically looking for something—anything—to protect herself with.

Despite the long skirts, her sister moves like Adam's wine; she bends and turns, and strikes the man far taller than her, but he seems determined on the idea of killing her. Her sister grunts under the heavy hits; one sits in her abdomen, and another lands on her knees. The slave's nails leave a trace on her skin, rough enough to pierce the young dermis.

Eventually, her sister grows tired; the slave pushes her to the ground, pressing his slender body on top and closing its white, almost translucent hands on her throat. Irulan clasps the found sharp cutting instrument to her chest, desperately trying to calm the wave of fear forming there. ''I must not fear. Fear is a mind killer,'' she whispers again and again.

She watches as her sister's hand slips under her clothes and emerges an illicit, slender blade—it shines under the light just as lettering did on the books a minute ago. To Irulan, it feels like a year's hundred. ''No!'' she wants to shout as her sister raises the steel and preys it into the eye of the slave, but the words are unable to leave her throat. Like a waterfall, crimson covers her sister's face, staining her light grey dress in hot circles.

The slave falls on his back, his hands leaving their place on her sister's neck.

''Enough, please! Sister, stop!'' Irulan cries, crawling out of her hiding spot but daring not to get closer.

Her sister doesn't hear; she lurches towards the man in a slick puddle and takes his life quickly, cutting his throat in one swift motion. The blood from his arteria leaves the body in pulsations; they spatter everywhere, some drops going as far as touching the shelves.

The silence settles in the chamber once again; only the sound of weakly flowing blood disturbs the stillness. Her sister does not shed a tear; she meticulously cleans the blade with the slave's white cloth and slips it back into the folds of her gown.

''What have you done?'' Irulan whispers. Her hands tremble; the sight before her crawls into the deepest corners of her mind and tears everything there down. How can one kill so easily? How can one be so cold and calculating, as if it were nothing more than a daily chore? How could that one be her sister, the one she shared a life with?

''I protected.'' Her sister's voice is hoarse, but firm. There is no remorse in her tone, only weariness. ''What have you done?'' She turns to face her. Her hair, carefully braided by servants for dinner, is undone; the wet strands of it grip her face like a vice, framing the unseeing eyes.

Like that, she looks like a woman mad. Irulan backs into the safety of the doors, feeling her fear turn into something much greater. ''Do not come near me,'' she commands. Just as the heavy doors close behind her, she sets off running.

YN waits until the footsteps of her sister are no longer heard, and only then does she come out of the reading room. She pays the body on the ground little attention; no one would bet an eye on the death of a useless creature like that. It did not intend to kill; rather, someone made it do it. Who, in their right mind, would try to harm the heir of the Emperor? How would they know that Irulan would follow her there?

Irulan. The one who watched as the Other almost gave her life for hers, the one who had the nerve to be repulsed by the blood on her hands—the blood she spilt protecting her. What do you do when you are not allowed to be angry at God? Why does God shame one for the will she herself inflicted on one to bestone? YN would ask the sun, but it hid behind the walls of the fort. She would ask, but no one would answer.

So, she does what she is meant to do—finds her way into the large dining hall, where everyone, of course, is starting to gather. The Emperor would be dissatisfied to find her not there on time; she has no time to fix her appearance. In light of the slight possibility of shaming their House with her muddled hairstyle or suffering yet another punishment for being even late, she chooses the first option.

The guards let her in without saying a word. YNr watches as the shield slides open, revealing a full hall. Rows and rows of tables, filled with foods one would imagine never would have made their way to the Giedi Prime, and laughter not so usual for a harsh realm.

''Princess...'' the servant starts, announcing her arrival, but she shushes him with a slight wave of her palm. She does not notice the crimson liquid staining it.

The Other makes her way to her seat calmly, careless of the way people around her stumble and twist their faces in shock. The only eyes that watch her without fear at the Emperor's table are those of Lady Echidna. Her face betrays no emotion at all—hidden by her veiled black cloth, it only slightly moves when the YN passes her seat.

She holds the angry gaze of the Emperor calmly. He will demand an answer, of course if Irulan has not whispered the truth into his aged ears already. Her sister probably would do no such thing; in that, she would admit to disobeying the orders bestowed upon her. YN is puzzled at the attention directed towards her humble figure—the first thing a Bene Gessarite in training learns is not to be repulsed by the anatomy of her body. Why be grossed out by the liquid coursing through her veins—the liquid she carries all her life? Why be scared of death, when it is always at your doorstep? In the sway of her thoughts, the Other also seems not to perceive the pair of icy blue eyes glued to her figure as she finds her seat and takes her place.

"The boy follows you around like a dog." The mother's tone stands not in judgment but rather simply states the truth.

Lady Echidna is not veiled now; her heavy hair is still tightly braided out of her face. Just a small black ribbon highlights her status as one of the Emperor's senior concubines, a position most would bear with honour. To her, it was yet another stain on her earthly body—the body she could not call her to possess. The black sun of Giedi Prime is finally long behind them; nothing but a few light orbs floating around illuminate the chamber, yet her intense gaze seems to pierce right through the girl that sits across her.

"I know, mother. His steps are heavy; his thoughts are even heavier; they follow me much more often."

The woman's fingers stop working on an intricate needlework for a moment, before continuing as it was. "You are to call me Sister, girl," she speaks, her voice low.

YN drags her teeth across her tongue, feeling the anger flow through the veins in her body. She wishes to be far away from this small chamber, to run and never face the woman's eyes again. "The girl has a name, Sister. Or do you fear to voice it?"

Lady Echidna places the cloth on the table beside her gracefully, as if paying no attention to the words spoken. But YN can sense can feel the resentment that burns inside her mother's stomach, spreading its molecules to her throat. "A name holds meaning; for a person to have a name, one must first be of character and substance. You are none."

YN bit the soft flesh inside her mouth; it tasted bitter. It was better if her mother shouted, if she hit her if she did anything to prove YN is still here in her eyes, that she was not just a void the woman spoke her riddles into. Maybe then the pain inside her would have a meaning, would have a reason better than just childish hurt. "Did I not have a beating heart when I left your womb, Sister? Did you not hear it loud and clear? What kind of proof is needed more of me?"

"My daughter died that day, screaming. You took her place. So do not bother me with your foolish talks anymore, for we both know they just waste the air we breathe. Am I heard?"

She was. The tears dried on YN's face before having the chance to spill, and she turned to her studies. Once more, a feeling of ever-lasting cold surrounded her shoulders. The never-leaving vision in her mind appeared once again—her mother's quick steps as she walked away in another corridor of Giedi Prime's fort, her head straight ahead as YN pleaded not to leave her alone, her legs glued to the command spoken. It was a blessing that the boy found her earlier than his uncle.

Time has passed since the first time YN's eyes saw the black sun of the foreign planet so far from hers. The Other trained, restlessly, in the tongues of ancient warriors and the most prominent whisperers, slowly earning the right to bear Knowledge in her crown-empty head. She had much yet to learn, but the prospect did not frighten her; with every passing day, she felt power building in her hands and soul. Patience, the greatest virtue of all. She was alone now, without her half of a sister; alone, in her solitude, the heavy bearings seemed not as heavy—she had no one to enlighten about her battles. Still, God was on her mind; YN felt her presence near, her watchful eyes guiding her. Like the tight, dampened cloth on her bruised knuckles, her sister was stuck to her open wound of a soul.

Irulan has grown. Her complexion changed; she no longer looked like a bright-faced girl who left her sister alone in Harkonnen's library; the plump cheeks were gone, and so was fear. At the Other stared a sole statue of power she bloomed into. Silver collars, light blue waves of fabric—the cut is, as always, straight. The Other eyed her up and down, taking in each detail of the painting-like sight. Irulan did the same—a slight disgust at the Other's simple tunic and pants, creased from the sparring. Irulan did not need to be broken in order to be a Sister in the Bene Gesserit; they wanted her Corrino first, and a servant second. The Other, however, held no such value—a child carried not by the lawful wife, a second, a spare. So, there would be no bone in her body left untouched by the lessons, no string in her soul unharmed by the knowledge. They crushed her cartilage in grey sand and forced her to swallow the bitter truths of their ways. Yet, God remains undisturbed—stoic. Eternal.

''Will you not eat again?'' Irulan musses, putting another piece of dish in her mouth.

The Other would take it as a cruel joke from anyone else, but not from God. She shakes her head instead. ''I am forbidden.''

Irulan hums. It was not the first time YN would be disciplined this way; the cycle of punishment and forgiveness was all too familiar to her. The room is silent; there is no one but the two of them. She could offer to eat, and no one would know she did, but Irulan won't offer. The Other does not expect her to; pity is not something a sister can possess.

''How are your lessons going? A fresh knowledge, perhaps?''

YN nods. If she opens her mouth now, her voice will betray her. She could cry all she wanted in the presence of a sister, but it is not appropriate for a thirteen-year-old to behave this way in front of God. The Other is reminded of that with an absence of bruises on Irulan's skin; her hands were never cut by the sharp blades, and her mouth was never starved. ''Why was I summoned from training?'' She asked, directing her eyes to the figure in front of her.

''I am here as a messenger from the Emperor.''

YN's eyes narrowed. ''And what does our dear Emperor desire to tell me now?'' She wishes not to hear anything he has to say; the Other is perfectly content here, amongst her Sisters. Here, she is of cost.

''Recently, Baron Vladimir turned to our House for guidance. He and na-Baron Feyd-Rautha Harkonnen felt misled by the House Artreidis, and their promise of a bride that did not come. Our father has graciously offered to negotiate the conflict and pay the needed price for the Baron's cooperation.''

''Of course, he did. With all of our might, we are still afraid of the savages that made Arrakis their home. With what advice, may I ask, did the Emperor provide the Baron?''

Irulan's lips turn into a straight line, with the small wrinkle on her forehead appearing. Something that she carried with her through childhood. Something that still reminded of home. ''With the proposal of a woman of our House to na-Baron Feyd-Rautha.''

''A gift? Irulan, I am so sorry.''

Sure, the bridge between them was long forgotten, growing with tall grass and wildflowers, but the weight of their shared history still lingered in the air. Irulan was still her sister, no matter how many times the Other tried to tell herself otherwise. And no woman sane would consider giving her sister to the inhumane brutes that were Harkonnens—the people even Bene Gessarit wished to observe from afar; the people so ruthless mothers told stories about them to their small offspring in an attempt to instil fear and obedience.

Irulan does not answer. She hides her gaze, her eyes following the wooden panels of the quarters.

''What is it, sister? Speak .''

''The offer Emperor found the most fitting would be of your hand, not mine.''

The Other exhales. As if a heavy stone were put on her chest, she fights to bring much-needed oxygen to her bloodstream. She almost feels the erythrocytes scatter from her face into her neck, hidden by the cloth, and gather there in an attempt to regrow their might. Her throat twists and closes, its muscles compressing until not even an ounce of air can get in. All of her organs, from heart to stomach, made their presence known; one by one, they tensed and burned, forcing the otherwise relaxed hands to grip them.

It was supposed to be Irulan. The first one to marry is the oldest sister; the title high enough to satisfy the ambitious Harkonnes would be hers, no less. Yet, here she stands, not even looking at the one taking her place as she sentences her to an ultimate death. No matter how much power the Corrino name held, on Giedi Prime, she would consider herself fortunate enough if she were to meet her end quickly.

''Why, Irulan? Have I not been a loyal servant to you all those years? Have I not followed every order without question? ''

Irulan is unmoved in her position. ''We can not risk the Harkonnen blood getting on the throne, you know it.''

''You mean we can not risk you? We are not eight anymore, dear Irulan; you can speak truthfully now. Do you really think the Emperor will treasure you more if you say nothing now? We are no sons, Irulan; we are sisters, you and I. Please, spare me this fate.''

''Yes,'' the girl lifts her eyes, taking a step closer. ''We are no sons; you knew that one day we would marry for the peace of the Imperium. Why do you shout now?''

''Married, yes, but not murdered for the sake of the fucking old man who could not hold his promise. They are monsters, Irulan, spilling innocent blood for the fun of it. I beg of you, sister, show me the mercy I know you are capable of.''

''You are worried about blood? What could one more splash of blood mean to you? You have been no sister for a long time; I order you, as an heir of the Emperor and as the messenger of his will here, to comply. Do not make it harder than it has to be.''

The Other smiled—she would not grant the pleasure of tears. ''Very well, then. Someone needs to go first. I'll go; I'll be first, at least here. Tell the Emperor that I will comply with any of his wishes, whether it be to throw me to the sharks or to feed me to the sandworms. As a confirmation of my undying loyalty, you may show him this:''

She slaps her. She slaps her not like a warrior, not like the trained assassin she was raised to be; she slaps her like a sister, bitterly, harshly. For the first time in her short life, YN raises a hand on something she deems holy—the God's shocked face brings a sense of satisfaction to the Other's veins, even if the same blood courses through them. She turns on her heels and walks away, leaving the forsaken room behind. Leaving God behind.

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bitchimasnake-sss · 6 months

Text

sfw alphabet ft. monkey d. luffy!!!

warnings: might be a little suggestive here and there, but mostly wholesome lol <3 [not proofread so it probably has a lot of errors.]

ENOUGH horniness, my children. time to simp. he is so cute plsplspls-

💗affection:

๋࣭ ⭑how affectionate are they? luffy is super-duper affectionate. not just to you, to literally anyone he calls his friends. it is not out of the ordinary for you to wake up and see luffy sitting on zoro's shoulders as the mosshead does weight training. "zoro, you'll pull a muscle. luffy, get off." nami suggests as she passes by the captain and his right hand man. luffy reacts by pouting and zoro by huffing as if he isn't carrying a 19 yr old, fully grown adult on his shoulders. so anyways, obviously he is super affectionate and cuddly towards you too. he always in clinging onto you, peppering absent-minded kisses onto your skin and giving you an himbo grins. ๋࣭ ⭑how do they show affection? by clinging onto you like plastic with static charge. he is inseparable. everything you're doing, he needs to be a part of it. everything he's doing, you need to be a part of it. but don't be surprised when all of a sudden, he leaves you to go see some weird sea-creatures with ussop and chopper. he would then get distracted by them and they would probably start their regular-schmegular shenanigans. but he remembers he has a BEAUTIFUL girlfriend, he is gonna come skipping over to you. enjoy the next 43 hours of cuddles.

💗best friend:

๋࣭ ⭑what would they be like as a best friend? like everyone else on the ship, he is super ride or die, so, him as a best friend is truly a blessing. from 3 am snack runs to gossiping (you gossip, he listens) to actual pillow fights and pillow forts (cause hes a child like that), you are in for a wild ride if you're his best friend. since he is so emotionally mature but so fucking weird, expect to receieve some bizarre anecdotes every once in a while. ๋࣭ ⭑how would the friendship start? how do any friendships start with luffy?? he just shows up and you accept him for all his dumbassery. so, thats how it probably started.

💗cuddles:

๋࣭ ⭑do they like to cuddle? yes. omg obviously yes. ๋࣭ ⭑how would they cuddle? i dont even know how to answer this because i firmly believe he just is out there doing anything?? like ofc he holds you all nice and sweet against him. but sometimes he just wants to hold onto you and it doesn't really matter how. so, he has some unconventional methods* of touching and cuddling. unconventional methods include: - sleeping on the other side of the mattress but holding you by his outstretched hands - lying a little bit apart but his toe is on your calf - look realistically if he could he would wrap himself around you like a python but um, he doesnt wanna scare you off

💗domestic :

๋࣭ ⭑how are they at cooking and cleaning? yes you do the cooking. yes you do the cleaning. look, king luffy is no sexist, misogynistic toe-nail rag who expects you to do the entire work but for the sake of saving your own life, you should do it. he has an iron stomach and can probably eat straight up poison and survive. he has survived in shitty situations so he really doesn't care how clean his room is. but can you a mere mortal thrive like that? you'd be dead wednesday. so, just do the cooking and cleaning. he will be down to help but uh, sometimes its better not to ask for his help.

💗ending:

๋࣭ ⭑if they had to break up with their partner, how would they do it? luffy doesn't seem like he would break things off at any costs tbh. if someone's walking out, it you babes (he has terrible abandonment issues 😁) but if he had to. if he had to. then i think it'll be like getting suckered punched in the guts by a saw. he is never as solemn and quite as he is rn and even though he waves it off with a smile, you can see his lashline thick with tears. if you were the one breaking up with him, he wouldn't hold you back from leaving if he understood why you were leaving. but if you're leaving unannounced, that'll quite literally destroy him.

💗fiance(e):

๋࣭ ⭑how do they feel about commitment? didn't really care about labels. not in a fuckboy way but in a "well i think you're pretty and i do wanna kiss you if you let me, so, sure be my girlfriend or whatever" way. he just truly doesn't care all that much about labels, so when you got together, you were the one who had to initiate the "What are we?" conversation. "luffy" you whisper meekly, sat beside him. his fingers are intertwined against yours and you fight off a blush as you look at him, "i- uh, you know i just was wondering. like- it's just what are we?" he looks up from your intertwined hands, dumbfounded, "pirates???" but when you did suggest that maybe you could be his girlfriend, i assure you he went about every conversation like "my GIRLFRIEND yn told me". ๋࣭ ⭑how quick would they want to get married? yk what i said about labels? 100% true. doesn't mean he doesn't wanna marry you tho?? he thought actually you like someone and just marry them. so, after a month of officially dating, you both are sitting on the deck, eating some snack sanji made when luffy gives you a bright grin, "say yn, when do we get married?" you almost choke on your food, "lu- we are niNETEEN?" "yeah? isn't sooner better?" and now you're rambling, "we cannot get married now. i mean we're young and we should focus on chasing our goals. like don't you wanna be the king of the pirates? and i really-" "i can be the king of the pirates and your husband whats the big deal?" basically, he's just ready to marry you whenever, just say the word.

💗gentle (how gentle are they, both physically and emotionally?):

๋࣭ ⭑physically: because of his sheer overpowered strength, he tries to be very gentle with you but tends to forget it every once in a while. nsfw: chopper often asks you why your voice sounds hoarse and why there are random bruises on your skin. you dont have it in you to let the resident doctor know that sometimes your boyfriend gets carried away. ๋࣭ ⭑emotionally: as i said a few points above, luffy is a truly emotionally mature dude but he's kinda silly goofy and that's why you always get weird anecdotes from him. he is always there for you in his unconventional ways and is really good at deducing whether he should say something or not according to your mood. evidence: 8th of march, 11:52 pm pre-dating you he sits besides you in you room as you sob into your hands. he's tried comforting you and a part of you feels so fucking stupid for crying in front of your captain like a child. but you were drunk and ussop had made an off-hand comment about how kaya was the prettiest girl he had seen and that made you spiral if you would ever get a guy that would say things like that about you. it was a stupid fear and yet, you heaved against your own palms as luffy sat beside you. "but you're pretty!" he seemed to argue to the wall, "i think youre the prettiest!!" "i- i don't feel like it" "are you saying im a liar?" "no, you're just a nice person. you always compliment sanji's cooking and nami's navigation tactics and ussop's inventions and chopp-" "thats cause all the people on my crew are the best at what they do? i have standards, is all." "who taught you the word 'standards'?" "i overhead nami when we were docked on an island. nami was telling some crying girl in a party that men arent shit and she should have some standards" "right, that checks out." well, atleast you're not crying anymore.

💗hugs:

๋࣭ ⭑do they like hugs? yes. physical touch is his domain thru and thru ๋࣭ ⭑how often do they do it? like atleast 15 times a day. out of which 10 times are you, rest 5 are wild cards that can come on anybody and everybody on the crew. ๋࣭ ⭑what are their hugs like? he has death-grip type of hugs. as if, if he didnt hold onto you, you will crumble. ngl its probably kinda nice and soothing for the first five mins, after that you're sweating profusely.

💗"I love you":

๋࣭ ⭑how fast do they say the L-word? pretty randomly, pretty fast. luffy doesnt exactly plan his words and since he's so honest, sometimes he just says shit. "you're pretty" "i'm hungry" "i love you" "do you think if two sea-kings had a baby that it will be a bigger sea-king? ussop asked me that today" yeah, it is indeed a whiplash inducing experience and you're left dumbfounded.

💗jealousy:

๋࣭ ⭑how jealous do they get? he's a chill dude and wouldn't honestly know if someone was flirting with you (unless that person was being very touchy feely and blatant). but he is good at reading emotions so, if someone happens to cross the line and you seem even a tad bit uncomfy, he is all for a fist-fight. nobody makes his girl uncomfy, especially not some lame ass rando. he behaves the same way with nami and robin too tho, like if someone weirds them out, the captain is ready to enter god-mode. he's just a sweet dude who cares about his crew. ๋࣭ ⭑what do they do when they’re jealous? he almost always starts a fight. you and the girls have to intervene because zoro and sanji just watch amused from the sidelines lol. afterwards, luffy does get a little pouty like "he was so weird you should have let me deal with him" but it's not something you cannot deal away with food and a lot of kisses.

💗kisses:

๋࣭ ⭑what are their kisses like: sloppy asf!! this man is messy and all in your business, how do you expect his kisses to be any different? especially at first, he is so sloppy, kinda unsure of what he is to do. but after enough make-out sessions, he knows you better, so his technique's much much better. he always kisses you for a long while too. like even his "quick kisses" before he leaves for somewhere are long enough for the crew to get irritated lmao. ๋࣭ ⭑where does he like to kiss you: the question should be where does he not like kissing you? he is infatuated and can barely control himself around you. any part of you that's visible to him is up for grabs to him. he also is a heavy, heavy supporter of pda. not cause he wants to show you or off (which he does), but because you look so pretty looking at the sunset, what is he gonna do? not kiss you???

💗little ones:

๋࣭ ⭑how are they around children? he is really, really good with children cause he's so childish himself 😃 but like jokes apart, whenever he is interacting with young kids (anyone whos older than five), he gets like super invested in the games with them. he refuses to lose to children. yeah so what if toge is screaming???? he shouldnt have asked to a match if he didnt wanna lose. as a menace to society, he also steals those kids' candy mindlessly and then shrugs confused when you ask him why the kid is crying. tldr; he is great entertainment for kids but do not leave him alone with kids or the kids will be sacrificed to some higher, eldritch deity.

💗mornings:

๋࣭ ⭑how are mornings spent with them? sleeping, if i am being very honest. the sunlight filters through the window of your room and you groggily open your eyes, fighting back a yawn. luffy is practically draped over you, asleep. he's drooling onto your tshirt and you look at him with half love and half "yo wtf dude" kinda expression. he is such a heavy sleeper!!! oh my god. its like someone can come and do construction in your cabin and he'd sleep thru it. but if he heard sanji yell "BREAKFASTS READY" then he's grabbing you in his arms and running to the kitchen. he would literally run to the kitchen while half asleep. but most of the times, he wakes up by himself when he's hungry and shakes you awake till you (reluctantly) wake up too. it doesn't help that he always wakes up super-hyperactive first thing in the morning too. also, i am sure he's the type of boyfriend that insists to kiss you with morning breath even if you stuff your head into the pillow to avoid it. he will chase you thru the ship if he has to to get that fucking kiss.

💗nights:

๋࣭ ⭑how are nights spent with them?: sleeping, again. luffy is usually tired from his day-long shenanigans and after eating an entire nuclear family worth of food for dinner, he is ready to fall asleep. but he is always so nice, he tries really hard to stay up till you're done talking to the crew/finishing your work to come in your shared room. he always greets you with a tired grin, asking you to lay next to him and tell him how your day went (as if he wasnt next to you like 90% of the time.) he tries super hard to stay up but he almost always sleeps while you're still talking. its not his fault!! he's exhausted and your voice is so sweet and your fingers are gently massaging his scalp and your skin feels so smooth against his and- you get the picture. he's asleep. ofc you don't mind. he's adorable and you let him hold onto you as you finish up some work/fall asleep yourself.

💗open:

๋࣭ ⭑when would they start revealing things about themselves: he actually forgets to tell you things, not out of intention but because it serves no narrative purpose to the plot lmao. (i mean he literally forgot to inform anyone about ace and was just like "YEAH THATS MY BIG BRO!!" when ace showed up in alabasta) so, yeah, technically it does take him pretty long. but if you ask him questions about his past, he would most certainly start telling you all his life's lore without a second thought. and you'd be stuck thinking "how tf did all of this happen to a child???" ๋࣭ ⭑do they say everything all at once or wait a while to reveal things slowly: like i said, he will infodump if you ask him, otherwise he would just not tell things to you. so, really depends on how good you are at asking questions.

💗patience:

๋࣭ ⭑how easily angered are they?: he is an easy-going dude. i mean he usually fights half of his battles unserious (till some fucked up thing happens and he gets angry enough to fight for real). so, he doesn't get all that angry on a day-to-day basis. he does get pouty and offended every once in a while, but he literally moves on from that within half an hour. he never holds onto those things for a larger chunk of time.

💗quizzes:

๋࣭ ⭑ how much would they remember about you? actually, quite a lot!! like i said, he makes a genuine effort to always listen to you (even when hes tired), so, he always remembers things that are personal to you and you may have said to him in passing. ๋࣭ ⭑do they remember every little detail you mention in passing, or do they kind of forget everything? honestly, if it isn't something very, very close to your heart, luffy will probably mis-remember it. he remembers things but never in the right context, so, its kind of a struggle to remind him those things. but its kinda endearing cause even if you are just re-telling him a story or something, he looks at you so intently with those bug-like wide eyes and a silly smile that it makes all of your annoyance fade away.

💗remember:

๋࣭ ⭑what is their favorite moment in your relationship?: if you ask robin, the quickest way to a man's heart is through his third and fourth ribs. if you ask luffy, it's thru food. (we know how much luffy loves food omg!!) you asked sanji to help you make a very very simple soup for luffy when he was injured after a fight. you wanted him to get better and take care of him. sanji had complied happily and helped you make a simple mushroom soup for the captain. so, imagine luffy's surprise when he was woken up by your sound. you were sitting by his side, a bowl of steaming soup in your hand and you smiled at him sheepishly, "i made you some soup." no matter how good of a cook sanji is, luffy genuinely believes that soup was the best thing he had ever tasted. (now every time he gets sick, he starts dropping hints like "if only someone made me some soup... with some nice mushrooms... maybe ill feel better. if onlyyyy" "ill make you the soup luffy" "yay!! i mean," fake coughs, "thankyou... im so weak i need some soup" )

💗security:

๋࣭ ⭑how protective are they? insanely protective. even an ounce of discomfort on you/the crew means he's gonna go berserk. ๋࣭ ⭑how would they protect you? hes the rubber man, he'd figure something out ๋࣭ ⭑how would they like to be protected? he doesn't typically need protection, both cause he's self-sufficient and also cause he lowkey loves fucking things up. but every once in a while, when the navy catches up to the crew and you say "it's okay, let me handle this." he falls in love. it's just so admirable of you to always step up (even when you dont necessarily have to).

💗try:

๋࣭ ⭑how much effort would they put into dates, anniversaries, gifts, everyday tasks? he honestly loves you a lot, but i dont think he has the brain capacity to pull off extravagant plans. one time he tried to surprise you for your birthday by planning a party with the crew. he ended up blabbering the entire plan by mid-afternoon. he is just terrible at secrets. but he loves to spoil you. anything you even show the slightest bit of interest in, he needs to buy it (doesnt matter if he has to risk getting charged a few billion berries by nami). he is super sweet and he shows that mostly through action and words. so, if you wanna do any fancy-shmancy thing, just organise it yourself and call luffy later.

💗ugly:

๋࣭ ⭑what would be some bad habits of theirs?

💗vanity:

๋࣭ ⭑ how concerned are they with their looks? not very concerned. he has you for girlfriend, you're the most gorgeous woman alive, you love him. does he need to care about anything else? like zoro, after getting in a relationship, he would def get better at just personal maintenance and all. if you like anything like skincare/makeup, best believe he will be the kind of boyfriend that does 3 hour long skincare routines with you just for the heck of it. (you are the reason luffy is an emperor with the nicest skin 😭✊🏼)

💗whole:

๋࣭ ⭑would they feel incomplete without you? yes. simply put, yes. he will be Devastated (with a capital D) incase you're gone. ofcourse, i see he doesn't seem the type to be stuck in despair forever, but it will be really really hard for him. for a few days, luffy would probably stop being luffy.

💗xtra (a random headcanon for them):

i have a personal belief that luffy sucks ass at games. let me explain. it's always the games where the rules are fairly simple where he ends up losing (he then whines and cries and the entire crew kinda pity-laughs it away) but the games with the most brainpower required? he wins those. easily. (he always just gets lucky one way or the other.) i also hc him as the kind of guy who wins chess by eating the pieces so, do what you must with this information 👏🏼

💗yuck:

๋࣭ ⭑what are some things they wouldn’t like, either in general or in a partner? he likes almost everybody unless they are a chauvinistic prick, so rest assured. plus, if he doesnt like anything, you'd probably find out sooner than later.

💗zzz:

he's already asleep. he's tired, he's a gremlin and he's asleep.

a/n: i thought i would do this for all characters but lord, the amount of work just one of these beasts requires has me quaking- (it's like writing 26 oneshots in one go 😭) but i def wanna write one for sanjiii <3

#one piece #opla #op #monkey d luffy #luffy x reader #one piece luffy #luffy fanfic #one piece fanfic #luffy fluff #monkey d luffy x reader #one piece fluff

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whateversawesome · 9 months

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SxF Chapter 91: Perspective, History, Empathy

Let me start by saying that I didn't think this chapter would make me so emotional. Was it the same for you?

A small side character like Millie, who we saw only as one of Yor's annoying co-workers, turned out to have a very sad backstory and gave us a glimpse of how things are for young people in Ostania.

This chapter talks a lot about people understanding and misunderstanding each other. Millie was just talking about her own experience and feelings, she was explaining why it was so difficult for her to help during an event like this, and that lady felt personally attacked because she saw things from her own point of view and her sufferings.

In no way the story discards any of those ladies' sufferings; what they went through during the war was very difficult, I'm sure. Nevertheless, comparing their sufferings and demanding Millie to act the same way just because they were able to do it, it's not right.

They both had different experiences because their circumstances were different, so they face life in their own way. That's exactly Yor's point.

Here, Yor demonstrates her best quality (and one of the many reasons why her husband fell in love with her): Emotional strength.

I've said it before and I'll say it again; Yor is a very emotionally intelligent character. The way she stood up for Millie displayed all her emotional strength. She called out that woman in such a smart way!! She wasn't rude but her words were true and very wise.

One of the most important things Yor mentions is that we cannot bear the same load because we're different. And I couldn't agree more👏

Also, if we take it as a metaphor, Yor is such a strong person because she carried a very heavy load: as a child and an orphan, she had to take care of her brother. Because of this, a naturally kind person like her had to learn to murder in order to survive.

It was a beautiful chapter. On top of everything, we learned a few important things:

1.Yor did lose her parents during the war and because of the war.

2.Donovan Desmond did NOT start the war. But plenty of young people like Millie don't know that, so it's possible that since he was Prime Minister during most of the war, he gets blamed for starting it.

3.Donovan Desmond is hated by many. That's probably the reason why he's no longer in office. And it also wouldn't be surprising that the majority of people in Ostania who voted against him want to move on from the war.

3.Melinda still wears her wedding ring and, even though she's separated from her husband, she still counts him as an important person for her. I guess, you can hate a person's actions and opinions, hate what they have become, but care about them at the same time...their marriage is complicated.

4.Not only Yor and Twilight fear the SSS because of their jobs. The general population do too because they know rich and powerful people can make them disappear regardless whether they are spies or not. That means arrests and disappearences of innocent people are common.

5.There was a repression during war time. This means the state controls and restricts certain rights of its citizens. When war happens, the state may determine it's necessary to protect their country and citizens. Chances are that policing of others started then and Ostanians got used to living like that.

And now some questions:

Was Melinda being sincere? In my opinion yes (for the most part). Melinda is no longer campaigning for her husband. In fact, she's going there incognito. Since her husband is no longer the Prime Minister and they don't have any elections to win, she doesn't have to support this types of events. If you think about it, once a politician retires from the public eye, their spouse generally goes back to their normal life.

Something that caught my attention was that it was mentioned Melinda has a lot of enemies; probably because her husband has a lot of enemies too. If that's the case, it would be easier for Melinda to move abroad, where she could have a care-free life, yet, she has chosen to stay in Ostania. Why?

Melinda is still a very mysterious character. We don't know her plans or intentions. We don't know why she separated from her husband. My only guess is that she's suffered a great deal and that's why she's able to empathize with Millie, even though their experiences are different.

What do you think?

Bonus (to end on a light note):

This is the Sxf when we see Yor 😄

#spy x family #twiyor #Spy x family manga #Sxf #Spy x family #yor forger #loid forger #anya forger #loidyor #loid x yor #agent twilight #Spy x family meta #spy x family analysis

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normansnt · 1 year

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The tailor (sanji x male tailor! Reader)

Warnings: the reader cuts himself with scissors. I don't know if thats a warning but yeah.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The strawhats docked at another island for the logpose to reset. As usual everyone went their way. And Sanji obviously went with Robin and Nami clothe shopping to carry their bags.

They were walking around town when they spotted a shop standing alone. It wasn't too big nor small. The first thing that someone felt when they saw it was calmness. It was a cozy little store. First Nami wanted to ignore it due to its simple looks. But Robin felt like the little shop had great things to offer.

"I find it rather adorable, I wouldn't mind going in" said Robin in a calm voice.

"Well all right we have time after all" gave in Nami looking at the log pose. Sanji didn't say anything but he had a little cheer in his mind that the girls decided to go in.

It was a small shop with unique and beautiful clothes put on display. The closer they got the clearer they could see how amazing the clothes put on display in the shop window were.

When they stepped into the shop the little bell over the door gave a light "ting" sound letting whoever was in there know that they had entered. The smell of lavender greeted them. The shop was only slightly bigger on the inside then it looked from outside, but it was not too small as though not having enough space.

Two clothing racks stood in the middle and if you walked to the other side of the store three mirrors greeted you with a small stage in front and a table besides them. The walls, which had clothes hanging on racks neatly organized, had a comforting light blue color. There was also a staircase leading to a door, a closed door so they had no idea what was behind it.

"Aughh damn it" came from behind the closed door.

"I will be down in a minute" yelled a mans voice.

Nami and Robin started looking around while waiting for whoever it was behind that door to come down, Sanji kept analyzing the place. All though he had to lie if he said that the clothed there didn't catch even his attention.

They seem to have been made with utmost care due to every stitch being very clean and the pieces of fabric complimented each other well very well.

The door opened suddenly and a man not much younger then Sanji stepped out. He had a big smile on his face and glasses on his nose which were held together by duct tape.

The man had h/c h/l hair and e/c eyes. These looked lovely with his s/c skin. He was a handsome man by the looks of it and based on his outfit he knew his way around clothing as well. He was wearing a white button up shirt with brown suit pants which had red squares detailed on it, around his neck was a tape measure and on his middle finger a thimble showing that he in fact made these clothes with his own hands. To top it off on his feet were black loafers, he looked very sheik.

"Oh hello" greeted Robin politely "are you alright we heard cursing before?" Asked the raven haired women kindly.

"Oh, I apologize for that, I was just cutting some fabric and the bell startled me so I cut into my finger a bit" smiled the man sheepishly while holding up his index finger which was bandaged all the way.

"Must have been a deep cut" muttered Sanji.

"Anyway I apologize again, what can I help you with ladies and gentleman?" Said the man while flashing a big smile. 'Adorable' thought Sanji, his smile had a child like innocence to it and the glint in his e/c eyes made it all the more sweeter- what? Since when did Sanji think like this about a man? He admits when a man is handsome, of course, but he never went into detail describing his attraction towards one- attraction? What is going on today?

"And for you sir?" Asked the man who he still didn't know the name of because he wasn't paying attention to the conversation he was having with the girls, who, disappeared,now realized Sanji. The man must have noticed his confusion so he said hastily

"The ladies went to try one some pieces" said the clothing shop owner while pointing at a door beside the three mirrors on the opposite side to the little table.

"And my previous question was if you are looking for any clothing?" Said the man smiling kindly. Sanji didn't want to be rude he wanted to get the handsome mans name at least.

"Please excuse me but I seem to have zoned out previously, do you mind telling me your name?" Asked Sanji red in the face.

"Oh no problem, of course, my name is Y/N L/N it is a pleasure to meet you" smiled Y/N while putting his hand out for Sanji to shake. He did just that while introducing himself as well.

"So are you looking for any clothing? I can tell by what you are wearing that you know a thing or too about fashion" he flashed his handsome smile again.

It was true Sanji did put a bit more care into what he was wearing than oder man but compared to Y/N he probably couldn't tell the difference between velvet and chiffon.

"Oh no, thank you, Im just here to carry the ladies shopping bags and assist them any way they need" smiled back Sanji. All though he liked the clothes in this shop, he didn't want to waste money, not to mention it was hard to find something that fit him because of his build, he was skinny but very muscular at the same time.

"Are you sure? I can tailor something for you as well" said the man hopefully.

Sanji saw the glint in his eyes, it looked similar to when he was about to cook a new meal or try a new recipe. Passion, passion for ones work. Sanji liked that about Y/N he seemed very eager to work, just like him. Also the thought of having his own tailored suit sounded lovely for Sanji. Finally something that fits perfectly.

"I actually think that's a really good idea Sanji you have been wearing the same suit for forever" Said Nami suddenly standing beside Sanji. She walked out of the fitting room with the clothes she wants to buy in her hand just a minute ago. Sanji didn't notice her walking out. But how could that happen? Sanji not noticing Nami? Its true he was focusing on Y/N but not this hard! Right?

"Yes, getting a new suit might actually be useful but I don't want to waste money that could be spent on food Nami-san" said Sanji.

"Its not a waste of money its clothes, we have enough money for food, its just one suit it cant even be that much money" said Nami looking at Y/N hopefully.

"Oh no its 50 berry" Said Y/N hoping they are ok with that price. Nami's eyes turned into berry icons showing how happy she is that she will be saving this much money.

Y/Ns clothes had amazing quality and were cheap as well. This showed how kind the male was he never thought much of money. He just sold his clothes to make people happy and of course he needed to eat something.

"Very well," gave in Sanji "I would love to have you tailor me suit" finished Sanji smiling at Y/N.

"All right we will leave you to it then" said Robin also coming out of the fitting rooms. And with that the girls paid for the clothes they wanted and left. Weirdly enough, Sanji didn't mind this, of course it would be amazing to spend more time with the lovely ladies of the strawhat crew but staying alone with Y/N was an idea he didn't oppose of.

While Y/N was taking his measurements Sanji could feel his hands touching his body slightly. Y/Ns feather light touch left goosebumps on Sanjis skin for some reason even though it was only through fabric.

Naw, Sanji was no fool. He has noticed in the past that Ladies are not the only ones who capture his attention, he wanted to sleep with man as well in fact.

However what Y/N was doing to him was completely new. The man made Sanji flustered and now he understood those butterflies in the stomach everyone was talking about. They had just met but Sanji was smitten. Even more so when they started talking, while Y/N was making his suit.

"Yeah, I love cooking Im not really good at it though" said Y/N a little red in the face. "The last time I tried to make breakfast I left the omelette on the stove because I got distracted and well lats just say I had to get a new kitchen." Smiled the e/c eyed male sheepishly. Sanji loved when he smiled like that it was rather adorable.

"I can teach you if you like" said Sanji perhaps a little fast. Y/N stopped his movements and looked at Sanji with a slightly red face and a small smile

"You would do that? Thats so kind but you guys will only be on this island for so long Im afraid we don't have time, I mean pirates have to move right?"

The interesting thing about this sentence is that Sanji never mentioned that they were pirates. That means Y/N must have known the entire time. And yet... and yet he was this nice to them showing nothing but kindness. Thats it, he had to have you, at least on the crew.

"Well... we don't have a tailor on our ship yet..." started Sanji hopefully. At this point he didn't care if you couldn't fight he would protect you, he didn't care he has to clear things with Luffy he will threaten to not give him food for a week.

"Oh, Im sorry, I would not be a good pirate, I hate fighting..."

"You don't have to I'll protect you" Y/N smirked a little bit. "I didn't say I couldn't protect myself I just said I hate fighting, lets just say me and fighting have a...problematic past." Y/N was searching for the right words. "You see if I were to be a pirate they would find me and well I do not fancy that" smiled Y/N embarrassed hoping Sanji wouldn't question him further.

"They? Who is they is someone after you?" Sanji was shocked. You, an innocent angel, had a past with fighting? Not to mention someone was after you?

Y/N was contemplating what to do. On one hand he trusted Sanji even though they had just met he took a liking to the blond. But he is risking a great deal if he finds out about his past.

Oh what the hell he has been in hiding till now even if Sanji decides to hold this against him he can just flee.

"Sanji have you heard about Ciper pol?" What? Yes he had he fought them not long ago...where is this going?

"More specifically Cp9?" Oh no, what is Y/N about to say?

"I was part of them" there it is, exactly what Sanji feared. "Im not anymore, I fled, they raised me to be a monster who knows nothing outside of fighting, but thats not me, I hate fighting, I decided to flee not long after an old lady showed me how to sow" a sad smile spread on Y/Ns face. "She thought me in thanks for not killing her family, I was supposed to kill them. Thats why after I stayed with them for a long time and she thought me how to make clothes I ran away and lived in hiding since then"

There it was, out in the open. Now Sanji can run away, make a disgusted face, curse him. These are the reactions he got before this.

But instead Sanji took out a cigarette and lit it up. He took a drag and then said

"My crew just fought Cp9 not long ago" Y/Ns eyes widened 'and they are still alive??' "In fact we declared a war against the government, then won the fight against them." Sanji looked at Y/N who's expression showed absolute shock.

"Listen it doesn't matter how your story begins you had no say in that, your decision afterwards matter. And you fled, you ran away from that horrible life and that was your decision and that shows the person you really are--" before Sanji could finish his sentence Y/N was clinging to him, hugging him with almost unbearable strength, almost. "Thank you..." whispered the slightly shorter male.

He meant thank you for them defeating his past comrades, Sanji knew that. He hugged back. It was a very comfortable hug, Y/N smelled like clean clothes and lavender, just like his shop.

After hugging for a good two minutes Y/N pulled away.

"I'm sorry its just... they deserved it" chuckled Y/N slightly "they needed an ass whopping to get them in the right mind just a little" continued Y/N while taking the cigarette from Sanjis hands and taking a drag. "Fuck I needed that".

Sanji got tomato read. The way Y/N inhaled the deadly chemical and then tilted his had back to blow it out. His adams apple visible and his neck exposed.

"Anyway where is this pirate crew who declared a war on the government? The handsome cook said they needed a tailor I would like to check it out" smiled Y/N kindly again. Sanji got even redder. This is going to be interesting

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

WHAAAAA- two posts on one day😗

I told you my next fic is gonna be a Sanji fic😍

I tried to not like this man due to his pervert behavior but I just have to end up falling for him🙃

ANYWAYS I love how this fic turned out I tried to make it longer now, and I successfully did so, Im happy🥳

I hope you guys like it Im sorry for any grammatical mistakes I made if I did please correct me🙏

Well, I hope you enjoyed your reading ladies gentlemen and others, good afternoon good evening and good night🧡🦖

#sanji x male reader #one piece x male reader #one piece #one piece imagine #one piece fanfiction #one piece x y/n #one piece x you #one piece x reader #sanji x you #straw hat sanji #sanji x reader #male reader #black leg sanji #sanji x y/n

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lilithliliam · 10 months

Text

My quiet haven

Warnings: Yandere themes. Teacher/student relationship. Obsessive and possessive behavior. There is no bloodthirstiness, there is no theme of death. Manipulation and pressure. The reader is a virgin. NSFW. Jealousy.

The reader is studying with Gojo temporarily, cause she don't plan to be a sorceress. The reader is 18 years old. She must learn to use her power, which is why she came to study in Tokyo.

It’s hard to imagine a Gojo who loves someone very much, let alone Yandere Gojo, but it turns out that this can happen. Where did it all start? Gojo is not particularly interested in people, to be honest, but he really loves and cares about his students. About all of them without exception, but recently he began to notice that he devotes much more time and attention to one of his students than to others, and is it even possible to blame him for this. After all, she, his student, is the very embodiment of femininity, beauty and kindness. She's not like everyone else, she's not angry at him for his childish nature, she doesn't think he's arrogant, or she doesn't have a stupid crush on him. She always seemed to be able to somehow read his emotions. He could say that there was absolutely nothing wrong with him, that his mission had been more successful than ever, that he was not tired at all, but she could understand how he felt just by looking once. When all his students left, she approached him and asked about his well-being, whether he was tired, whether he was accidentally injured. Did he need anything? And she asked with such genuine concern that Satoru involuntarily felt something in his chest - was moving. At first, he brushed off her questions, not wanting to pester her with his problems, but then he didn’t even understand how he began to open up. In one of the most vulnerable moments, when she was the only one who realized that something was wrong with him, with the strongest. She just came up and despite all the assurances that everything was fine, she hugged him tightly. As tightly as she could. She told him not to hide his feelings, because we all are people. He is a human after all. No matter how strong he is, he is still a person who is no stranger to pain, fatigue and suffering. And this is not something to be ashamed of.

"I can't even imagine the heavy burden you carry every day, sensei ,but please don't carry it alone. Whenever you need, whenever you feel alone, I will always be here for you. I can hardly help a lot, but I can listen to you. And no matter what you say, it will always remain between us,” she told him.

She hugged him, pressing his head to her chest and stroking his hair. She whispered various soothing things. And he...just melted like plasticine in her wonderful hands. He felt like a lonely abandoned child who had finally found shelter, a warm home. That day he himself did not understand how he fell asleep. But he slept well then. And then the germ of interest that he experienced in her even at the first meeting grew into true love. He didn't care that she was his student, that she was younger. She will only study for a year and she is already 18. He has been single for so many years that who cares about her age or the family she comes from. Gojo knew that he had earned himself at least one happiness in life and he was going to take care of its safety.

She was kind in character in general. She was kind to everyone, from a small bug on the sidewalk which she picked up and planted on a nearby flower so that it would not be given away, to the janitor for whom she bought coffee in a very cold time, knowing that he would probably frozen And of course she was kind to her classmates. She cared, but not too persistently, for Megumi, hugged and supported Itadori, saying that even though he is a vessel of Sukuna, this doesn't mean that he is bad. She listened and gave advice to Nobara and went shopping with her. She calmed down and even prepared Nanami’s favorite bread and sandwiches, who, by the way, also doted on her. She became the soul and the bright sun of their entire company. And Gojo was fine with this for the time being.

However, over time, he became even more clingy than before. He began to constantly demand her attention. Her worries. If she devoted time to someone else, he would create scandals and hysterics. When he finished his missions, the first thing he did was rush to her and showed off like a kid. And she smiled and praised. Thanked him for his hard work. Prepared sweets or other food for him just because knew that after the mission he would probably want to eat something. And he could sit all night with her in the living room or in her room, eating sweets or chips and watching some movie. He would constantly cry at the sad moments and laugh out loud at the funny ones, but one thing was invariable: he would either lie on her chest or on her lap while she instinctively stroked his hair. When she was once enthusiastically reading some book, he became hysterical like a child and threw it somewhere, while refusing to look at her, and childishly pouting his lip, showing that he was the victim here. At first she was indignant, but then, instead of to reprimand him, she sighed quietly and opened her arms, where he immediately rushed, forgetting about his offense because she forgot about him for THREE WHOLE MINUTES!

Her classmates also noticed Gojo’s strange attitude towards her, but she brushed it off and said that he was like a big baby or a living teddy bear and that he needed to be cuddled and cherished, otherwise he would behave completely capriciously. They didn't approve of this, but seeing how happy Gojo was they couldn't resist. She noticed that his actions were strange at times, but she convinced herself that Gojo was very lonely. She understood the burden people had placed on him since his birth. How they don't let him be normal. And his childish behavior was justified by the lack of a normal childhood before. Seeing one day how bad he really was, she decided that at least she could understand him, not put pressure on him, could become his quiet haven where he could come to rest. She wanted nothing more than for her mentors Gojo and Nanami to finally be able relax and do what you really want. One day Gojo felt that he was ready to completely open up to her. He told everything that was in his heart. About his best friend Geto, who betrayed him to the point of taking his life himself. He expected contempt in her eyes, although he understood that she was not that kind of girl, but he was afraid of her reaction. But she smiled softly and said that it was probably hard for him. And that she understood him. She feels sorry for his friend, she feels sorry for that girl. But the past cannot be changed. If Geto was his best friend, then he understands his actions and does not hold a grudge against him, so Satoru should also forgive himself: she told him. He first smiled and then...cried. He cried in her lap as she stroked his hair in an attempt to calm him down. He calmed down and he and she even agreed to visit Geto’s grave together next time. It would seem that everything was fine. Everyone was happy. Gojo has finally found his soul mate. A person ready to accept him. Here she is, the perfect girl. Strong, albeit weaker than him, beautiful, although not more beautiful than him(joke). But something is still wrong. He looks at her communicating with Yuji and Nanami and something strange stirs in his chest. He watches carefully as she hands a basket, probably with food, into Nanami's hands. After all, Gojo himself saw how she prepared him and suddenly realizes. Oh yes, exactly. This feeling is called... anxiety. No no. Jealousy. No... uncertainty? No, stupidity. So that Satoru Gojo himself, the strongest magician, feels insecure? Nonsense. But deep down he is afraid that she does not feel the same, that she might choose someone younger, like Yuji, someone more responsible like Nanami. But he's not going to give up. He's lost enough people and he's not going to lose any more. He knows for sure that he doesn't want her to care about anyone else. Especially about Nanami. After all, after so much time spent with her, it seems that she did not look at him differently, although Satoru tried to look after her. He gave her sweets, put flowers in her room, or if she was just walking, he appeared out of nowhere and dragged her to the nearest cafe to try a new food, but apparently this was not enough. So Gojo decided to act more decisively. And show her intentions, because even if she guessed about his feelings, she tried not to pay attention to it.

Gojo had hugged her before, like all his students, but now his hugs became more frequent, lower and more intimate? Although she felt that something was wrong, she tried to blame it on paranoia. When she was cooking, he could hug her and put his head on her shoulder and inhale the smell of her hair. One day, when she was eating candy that he bought her, for some reason in the shape of a heart, he asked how it tasted. She says it’s very tasty and he took the candy she bit and ate it, closing his eyes in satisfaction. One day he took her phone to check the time, but then when she took her phone again, on the lock screen there was a photo of them that they took with everyone, but only... the rest of the participants were cut out and only him and Gojo remained. By the way, he put the same photo on his phone. She also noticed that next to his contact there was now a red heart. And sometimes she woke up in the morning with a heaviness on her stomach and when she opened her eyes, she found a sleeping Gojo who was hugging her tightly, trying to fit on her bed. Slowly but surely he became a part of her life, her social circle, slowly and surely filling her entire world. One day, while walking in a store, he offered her to buy “mochi” in the shape of a heart, which were sold for Valentine’s Day, to which she quite logically replied:

-But, Gojo sensei, this is for couples

“Well, yes, we’re dating so what’s the problem here,” he told her as if nothing had happened.

-I love you, you love me and...call me Satoru-sama now, right? She was numb for a minute, not knowing how to refuse him, and he, of course, took advantage of this.

-You take care of me, cook for me, hug me, comfort me. This of course means that you like me as much as I like you. And you will not leave me like everyone else. Don't hurt my feelings. Well, of course, and how can you not love me.I’m so charming,

- he said, knowing that he was manipulating her, leaving her no choice, but he didn’t care. She was his and no one, not even she herself, could change that.

And she, in turn, thought: This is the first time that Gojo is truly happy, it took so much time to heal his wounds, but she won’t open his wounds again and leave new ones? How can she do this to him? Yes, and she must admit that over time she herself began to have feelings for him. It’s hardly pity, rather admiration along with the desire to care. The maternal instinct must be making itself felt, because he's like real child (or maybe it’s just a skillful manipulation by Satoru) So she decided that why not. She will give him a chance.And she did not quite confidently confirm the fact of their relationship, and Satoru was not even shy about rare people in the store, and kissed her right there, because he had been craving this for so long.

As for intimate matters, everything is simple. His beloved is 18 years old, in fact, she is not even his student, and Gojo also has his own... needs. Therefore, he probably won’t want to wait, or give her time to prepare for this mentally. He will gently hint to her by saying something like:

"Hey hey, a wonderful day to lose your virginity, don't you think?"

"How is my favorite virgin doing?"

He constantly kisses her on the lips and moves lower. Will constantly touch her. And one day he will invite her to his house to watch a film. But she felt how it would end, after all, it was Satoru. He almost directly stated that he wanted her. Before she had time to enter his apartment, he was already heart-rendingly and greedily kissing her lips. Lifting her by the ass, he carried her onto the bed while crushing the fat of her ass. Climbing on top of her, he kissed her as if he wanted her to choke on either his tongue or his saliva. While his long, muscular arms explored her entire body, hastily ridding her of her clothes. Having finished with the kiss, leaving a thread of their common saliva on her lips that dripped onto her bare collarbones, he kissed lower. Frantically kissing the beads of her hardened nipples and putting one in his mouth, he began to suck, twisting it around his tongue, causing a series of moans from his beloved. He barely looked away from her soft and elastic breasts and began to look at her greedily, God, how he wanted to take a picture of her now, it was just a pornographic look. He wanted to remember this for the rest of his life. But this was her first time, he had to be softer and more gentle and please her first, and then himself. He sank lower, from her navel, sunken tummy to her femininity and she screamed. Her whole body arched and she pulled Gojo's head closer to her peak and Gojo moaned out loud.

She wriggled like a snake, simultaneously dropping sweet moans that gave him an incentive to move on. He greedily sucked, licked and even stuck his nimble tongue into her, stimulating places that she probably didn’t even know existed. Using his thumb, stroking and occasionally rubbing her clitoris or alternating it with his tongue, and inserting first one then a second finger into her, he quickly brought her to the peak and she moaned loudly and protractedly. He stood up and took off his T-shirt as he walked, wiping his wet mouth and face with it.

"Damn, damn baby. This is the best thing I've ever eaten. I wish you would give me this instead of the usual tomorrow and dinner, baby," he told her.

While she was trying to recover from a violent orgasm, he unzipped his pants and hastily stayed in his boxers, wet from his own secretions, in which his erect penis could be clearly seen. He desperately needed to be in her. He seemed ready to cum now if she just touched him.

She felt something hard and smooth sliding along her wet folds, occasionally touching her clitoris, causing a new wave of goosebumps and moans. Then slowly, as slowly as he could, testing all his patience, Gojo began to enter her. She seemed to suffocate from the feeling of being so stretched and full, something strange was tickling her stomach from the inside.

Now it was real torture for him not to move. It was incredibly tight, hot and very humid! The vaginal muscles tightly wrapped around the penis. The heat that came from them was driving them crazy, prompting them to immediately start moving. But he couldn't afford to be rude, not with her!

He bows his head in a gentle kiss, pulls out of her slightly, and makes a careful push back.

For the first time, a girl feels the movements of a man inside her.

She clasps her hands behind his neck. She doesn’t yet understand how she feels.

Another soft, not strong, deep push. He barely comes out of her before entering again to the end, as if he is rocking the two of them on the waves.

Her quiet moan escapes directly into his lips, breaking the kiss.

Tries the amplitude a little more. So wet that he easily slides in it, feeling the pleasant friction of the sensitive organ.

He told himself that he shouldn't lose patience, that he should be gentle, but... God, he couldn't do it anymore. It felt like heaven, like pure bliss, like a drug in its purest form.

Her pussy was warm, tight, reactive and wet - it was everything he had dreamed of and more.

He tried to be soft, tried to be slow, but hearing her meow and whimper he lost all remnants of willpower and self-control. He set a leisurely rhythm, simultaneously comforting her with sweet words, saying how well she was doing, how great she was and how well she accepted him. Just be patient, okay, is it okay for me, baby? “Be patient with love,” he whispered to her, but he himself seemed about to go crazy.

-Darling, my love, I just want to make you feel good? Okay?

Trying to distract himself and distract her from the unpleasant sensations of stretching, he kissed her cheeks, ears and her sensitive neck.

Surrendering to his tender kisses, she forgot about the pain and completely relaxed.

-It's okay, I'm okay.

-Are you sure honey, damn... say yes

To which she nodded and smiled. And he couldn't stand it anymore. Spreading her legs wide and pressing them to her chest, he began to quickly and hard enter her, his snow-white, coarse pubic hair and the slapping of his pelvis causing additional friction, stimulating her clitoris, bringing her to the edge. Quick thrusts that quickly spread her apart causing her to open up and make room for him inside, stretching her walls and letting them mold to the shape of his cock.

She arches her back, groaning protractedly. Clings to Satoru's shoulders, maintaining his balance. Gojo grabs her throat with his wet palm, speeding up the rhythm.

There is a catastrophic shortage of air. She moans loudly in her lover's ear, squeezing his hair with her palm.

She feels intoxicated already from the sounds he makes. A primal, deep growl emanates from his chest as he looks down to where you are both connected in heart and soul. Forever and ever... He makes his way inside of you, taking pleasure in your whines and squeals and pitiful meows.

-Go-jo ah, more, nhh I want

-Yes Yes Yes, baby. Let's.Do it. Do. You can my darling.

A pleasant spasm tightens in the lower abdomen. She whines, resting her forehead on the man's neck. A shiver runs through my body. The heartbeat quickens, the head is spinning. She clenches inside and moans loudly.

A powerful orgasm breaks through her body, she closes her eyes to white spots, sinking her teeth into Satoru’s neck.

Her second orgasm was more intense than the first, her cunt throbbing around his cock as pleasure pierced her with outstretched claws, ravaging every part of her.

He groaned. "I'm feeling it. You're squeezing my... oh... I'm going to, damn nhhhh.

His body was on fire, pleasure coursing through every nerve as he continued to fuck your quivering pussy, the lewd wet slaps of flesh on flesh accompanying his wanton, wild moans.

-I'm here, almost. Me too. Babe. Babe. Babe.

He screamed as if in a fit and then moved again, then again and again until the white pearls of sperm stained her insides. He waited a little longer, a heavy exhalation escaping his lips, dripping from his forehead, nose and hair. And then he collapsed exhaustedly on top of her, without leaving her. Remembering that he actually rolled heavily to one side and laid her on his chest, trying to even out his breathing. He stroked her hair and gave her a short laugh, kissing her on the top of her head.

-It was, it was... indescribable. You're so good... for...me

He whispered to her various nonsense, words of love, promises. Until felt that she was sleeping.

-Good night, my not virgin. He whispered in her ear, admiring her peaceful, sleeping face with red cheeks and rejoicing at his victory and understanding what it means to be happy. He felt happier than ever. Felt peace, tranquility and tranquility.

He finally found his man, his home. Your own quiet haven. And now no one will dare to encroach on him, no one will dare even look at her. She is his. He branded her, made her completely his, and soon he will build a house for them. He will put her there, he will admire her for hours, he will be the only one, he will teach her himself. He will make her a child, marry her. Don’t want to share her with a child, but it’s better than some Nanami. Let Kento look for another. After all, she is... only his Quiet Haven.

I don't own this arts

#gojo satoru #jjk x reader #jjk gojo #gojou satoru x reader #jujutsu kaisen satoru #gojo sensei #yandere #yandere gojo #jjk yandere #teacher crush #sensei gojo #jujutsu kaisen #sorcery fight

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koenigami · 11 months

Text

Just a little longer Nanami Kento x fem!reader synopsis : In which you have to save him from his own altruistic self. wc : 1,1k tags : angst, hopeful ending, mentions of injuries, spoilers for upcoming episodes

Breathless pants fill the quiet void of the restroom that you and Nanami have retreated to. Your heart is racing at a speed that makes you wonder whether it is even supposed to beat that rapidly. There is a light shake in your hands as you fist the loose material of your trousers, a poor attempt to ground yourself after all the vicious things that you have witnessed in the last hours.

A low grunt pulls your attention away from the flashbacks that keep playing in front of your eyes in repeat. He was so close to-

"Where do you think you're going?" you hiss and tug at Nanami's pants, his body so weak it almost knocks him off balance. His weapon clatters to the floor while he leans against the wall, refusing to sit back down on the cold tiled floor with you.

"Where I'm going?" he breathes through the pain, a deep frown etched on the unharmed side of his face as he shoots you a deathly glare. "Itadori is still out there, all alone with that goddamn curse."

He groans again as he leans down to pick up his sword, the polka dotted cloth in which it is wrapped is stained with mud and blood. You don't dare to think about how much of it was his own. Before his hand can even reach it, you kick it with your foot, the weapon clinking as it slides and lands somewhere in the far corner of one of the many restroom stalls. He stares at you dumbfoundedly. But you can't. You can't look at him because another look of his damaged body would make you break even further.

"Y/n, what do you think you're doing? Have you gone insane?" his words echo in the dark humid room, sounds of dripping water fill the silence that follows afterwards.

"Probably." the dry answer makes Nanami's fist clench, his veins bulge, yet you interrupt his attempted scolding. Your eyes are glazed with unshed tears when you finally look at him. "But how could I not? Kento, look where we are. Look at you!"

Your mind briefly wanders to moments prior when you found Nanami face to face with a patch faced curse.

You remember its wicked grin, you remember the approximate distance its hand had left for it to touch Nanami's torso. You remember Nanami's serene expression. As if he had accepted his fate. As if beyond that moment everything would get better, more beautiful. A fleeting thought passed your mind that made you consider whether saving him would be selfish.

Even though it was not you who was on the brink of death, your life flashed before your eyes. Shared moments between you and Kento; the first time you met him at Jujutsu High, the first time he offered you a genuine yet shy smile, all the times that he bought you flowers, all the time you spent together in his bed. You could smell the fresh scent of his sheets, feel his gentle and warm hands trace the curves of your body, hear his soft voice as he whispered sweet nothings in your ear.

A curse as twisted as love could indeed be selfish.

You hadn't even realised that you had sliced through the curse's arm before you saw it crumple to the floor, its bodily fluid oozing out of the injury.

"There's a child out there fighting for his life!"

Your legs had carried you here to this restroom as if they had a mind of their own. As you look at the man in front of you, who's still spewing reproaches at you, you wonder how he even complied to follow you, or why he didn't simply tear his wrist out of your hold while you dragged him to this place. He must have been in shock himself. Shock that he was still breathing. That he still got to see you one last time.

"If you-" your voice is by far quieter than his. Yet he hears you, he wants to hear you and wants to let you speak because, fuck, even fighting with you feels like heaven amidst this hell. "If you want to hate me for looking out for you, then go on. Please, do."

Your footing is unstable as you get up from the floor, and only then does he notice the stain of blood on your thigh. Despite the lack of his own strength, his arms reflexively shoot out to steady you.

"But I won't let you die, Kento." the familiar feeling of his hands on your waist break the dam inside your chest. You nuzzle your face in the crook of his neck, still being mindful and making sure to not put any pressure on the burns of his injured side. "You can't fight like this, y-you just can't. That would be suicidal. I don't want you to leave me, because if you do I'll follow you., no matter where you go."

Nanami tightens his hold on you and pulls you further against him, ignoring the searing pain in his face and the uncomfortably tight feeling of his burned skin. "Just let me get you out of here, please. I-If we get you to Shoko soon enough, she might be able to fix your eye-"

The sight on his right eye is getting blurry. He blinks and feels something wet trickle down his cheek. The sound of your desperate voice is killing him, and he swears dying by Mahito's hand would have been more bearable than seeing you like this. Like a little girl imploring her parents to get her out of a scary and overwhelming place, crying for safety and peace.

"Kento, please, I'm begging you." you weep as you carefully place your hands on his cheeks, letting him feel how violently they are shaking. "We have to let your wounds get treated, otherwise-"

You don't have it in you to say it out loud. All these years of working as a sorcerer, of witnessing deaths and bloodshed day by day, and yet you don't dare to think about a life without your Kento. Such a coward, you think of yourself.

"Okay." you barely hear him speak between your ragged breaths and sobs, and once you take a proper glance at him and his pale skin, you realise that it is also due to his deteriorating state that he simply can't speak any louder even if he wanted to. "Okay, just-"

You wince at the sudden heavy cough that emanates from him, a small trickle of blood slipping down his lips that you carefully wipe away with your thumb. His hand on your cheek makes you nuzzle into his palm and you really have to pull yourself together to not let yourself fall to your knees and full on sob like a toddler. "Let's go, just don't- don't cry, okay? I don't like seeing those tears."

And you smile and nod, and unfortunately, keep on crying because you're thanking whatever almighty power that's watching over you for allowing you to keep your dear Kento for a little while longer.

#{ kento <3 }#nanami kento #kento nanami #jujutsu kaisen nanami #jujutsu nanami #nanami x reader #nanami kento x reader #nanami kento x you #nanami fluff #jjk nanami kento #jjk nanami #reposting bc I didn't like it at first and had to change a few things -

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beelsbignaturals · 1 year

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HoL and their preferred cuddling styles?

AN: omg posting twice a day look at me go! I WAS gonna queue this but I have no patience sometimes. Also lmk if anyone is interested in a part two with the undateables!

😴SNUGGLY DEMONS💗

Lucifer wants to be the little spoon so damn bad but would rather die than admit it. Please just hold him. If you can ignore his grumbles of "Honestly, MC, I am not a child!" One of two things will happen. Either you let go, to which Luci will respond with an indignant. "I didn't say you could stop." Or if you are a little more persistent, after a small huff, Lucifer will relax in your arms. Regardless, you will have an all-powerful demon melting into your embrace by the end of it. He also enjoys when you plop yourself down on his lap while he deals with another never-ending mountain of paperwork. Don't worry, he's happy to work around you if you just promise to stay. It makes the long hours much more tolerable.

Mammon loves resting his head on you, using your body as a pillow. Doesn't matter if it's your chest, thighs, stomach, or shoulder. You are the great Mammon's personal headrest. That is your sole purpose in life. Why does he like it so much? Well, aside from the fact it usually leads to your hands gently massaging his scalp, it also means he only has to tilt his head just a little to press a quick kiss to your skin. If you do the same, laying your head against him while watching a movie or just in general, Mammon will probably freeze for a moment before his hands find themselves in your hair.

Leviathan is way too embarrassed and also just overwhelmed by physical contact at first. If you want any hope of something that resembles cuddling before you have managed to convince Levi you're not pretending to be into him as a joke, you will need to initiate. Try linking your arm through his while he is playing on his NintenDevil Switch. He'll short-circuit but recover when you say you just want to watch him play. He can only handle so much tactile stimulation before he taps out and needs to lay in the dark for 1-3 business days to recharge so please just… when he shakes you off without blushing and stuttering that's your cue to listen. Once Levi is comfortable enough with you to sleep in either your room or his bedtub, you become his replacement body pillow. Sometimes, he will subconsciously wrap his tail around you in his sleep.

Satan tends to sit in strange positions while reading so honestly, just… wherever you can fit. Find a way to squeeze into his arms without blocking the book, and you're golden. He's upside-down with his legs over the back of the couch? Lay your head on his stomach. Sitting like some sort of contortionist? Wrap your arms around him from behind. Sitting like a normal person for once? That is an invitation, my friend! It's his way of saying, "Get over here and cuddle me now or else." He tends to stay up late reading so… if you are the type to cuddle at night, I will pray for your poor spine.

Asmodeus loves you, but he needs space. Beauty sleep is important! If you share a bed, he wants to hold your hand to feel close to you, but he has to lay on his back so his overnight mask can do its thing without making a mess. You will just need to get by with entwining your fingers with his as you both drift off. He's happy to cuddle up with you any other time, though! If you are lounging anywhere, your lap is fair game for the Avatar of Lust. He can and will sit on your lap regardless of the situation. It's his favorite spot, after all.

For practical reasons, Beelzebub prefers to cuddle you in a way that, when he inevitably gets up for a midnight snack, it won't disturb you too much. But if it won't bother you too much, he loves it when you lay on his chest. He will even go the extra mile and carry you along for his late night kitchen raids. He's strong enough that he can hold you in one arm and his food in the other. Also! Cuddling so that his arms are wrapped around you and you are curled up against him, facing the demon. For the love of all that is good in this world! Just let the man hold you! Beel is just a giant teddy bear. Like the one from ikea. Feel free to initiate cuddles any time, any place. Just watch out for an annoyed Belphie who is not impressed you took his spot as Beel's favorite cuddle buddy.

Belphegor moves around so much in his sleep. The ONLY way to stop this is to fully lay your entire weight on top of him. Like a living, breathing weighted blanket. Careful though, he might get so used to your presence that he will demand you join him because he's just oh so tired but he can't sleep without you sprawled out, completely crushing the demon underneath you. Alas, sometimes your efforts are for naught, and in the middle of the night, sloth incarnate has completely flipped the two of you. And… somehow, he's also upside-down? It's rather hard to sleep with a kneecap digging into your ribs. The picture you managed to get of Belphie hugging your legs like a teddy bear is totally worth it.

#om! shall we date #obey me #obey me mc #obey me x reader #shrimp writes #obey me fanfic #obey me lucifer x reader #obey me mammon x reader #obey me levi x reader #obey me headcanons #obey me satan x reader #obey me asmo x reader #obey me beel x reader #obey me belphie x reader

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ad-hawkeye · 6 months

Text

Alkaid's Destiny's Call Endings

A transcript of each ending can be found below.

ASTRONOMER ENDING

Ever since he was a child, Alkaid has always harbored a profound fascination with the heavens above. Gazing into the sky, he could sense the endlessness of the world beyond the curtain of the sky.

When he grew up, he bought a small telescope, which shortened the distance between him and the sky. Through it, he could see beautiful stars traveling along mysterious tracks in space.

Eventually, Alkaid's unwavering passion led him down the path of becoming an astronomer. Countless complexities created a cascade of numbers, constructing a ladder that propelled him toward the stars.

There, he watched the birth and death of the stars as if he was watching the blossoming and withering of a flower.

FLORIST ENDING

After reaching the age of 18, Alkaid became the owner of a flower shop. He named his store "Aurora," a name he held dear, even though its profound significance remained a secret, intertwined with the threads of destiny.

He looks after the white roses, lilies, and daisies in his floral shop. He treats these delicate flowers as cherished companions, joyfully passing them into the hands of those who appreciate them properly.

"Do you have 319 white roses in stock?"*

"I'm afraid we don't at the moment. But you can leave your contact details and I'll call you to pick them up in three days."

"Okay. Thank you." The girl nods and leaves her contact information.

Alkaid takes the note and repeats her name under his breath - "Can I call you... Miss [MC Name]?

*March 19th is Alkaid's birthday.

TRAVEL PHOTOGRAPHER ENDING

Alkaid has visited countless places.

To him, the world contains both perils and marvels. In his eyes, the allure of a place grows exponentially with its danger and inaccessibility.

Fearless and resolute, Alkaid willingly embraces risk to experience the world on a personal level. He captures these extraordinary locations through the lens of his camera, cherishing them as souvenirs.

The sight of snow-capped mountains always leaves him awestruck. As Alkaid sets up his equipment, a girl walks into his camera frame. With a canvas in her hand, she trips over and falls down in the snow.

"It's too dangerous to traverse this mountain on your own," Alkaid says as he runs over to help the girl.

RACE CAR DRIVER ENDING

As the race car reaches its maximum speed, a whirlwind ensues. The boundary between life and death is so close, and fate can be heard screaming.

Alkaid can't say for sure why he fell in love with this feeling. It only lasts for an instant, but still leaves him in deep fascination.

When the car reaches the finish line, Alkaid's soul finally finds solace. Mr. McGrath, the "Best Driver of the Year", smiles gently as he received a starry candy bouquet.

"Congratulations, Alkaid!"

Alkaid looks at the girl. Again, he feels the thrilling sensation he'd just experienced. But this time, it faintly whirls around his heart.

He asks the girl, "May I have your name?"

"My name is [MC Name]," she replies.

PSYCHOLOGIST ENDING

Alkaid first became interested in psychology because he wanted to understand himself and other human beings.

Later on, he discovered that the world is a vast ocean where everyone is surrounded by water. People affect and are affected by each other. There is no shame in misfortune and feeling emotions. Reconciliation is a long process. Emotions, just like many things in the world, are contagious.

Although, ever since he became a psychologist, Alkaid thinks he's adapted very well.

"Next, please."

PILOT ENDING

Countless choices in life often originate from fortuitous encounters. Yet, this choices often carry a sense of destiny.

Planes mimic the graceful flight of birds as they ascend into the heavens. Bound by the pull of gravity, they persistently strive to soar higher and higher.

Whenever he soars into the sky and glides over the horizon, and whenever he sees a glimpse of the glow at the end of the world, Alkaid is reminded of one afternoon from many years ago.

Through torrents of rain and storms, he unfurls his wings, determined to fly into the heavens and safeguard the land beneath him.

#lovebrush chronicles #alkaid mcgrath #lbc spoilers

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funficwriter · 11 months

Text

A Wolf and A Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Letters' Interlude - 1

A/N: So these aren't official chapters per say, just an extra to the story that explores the yandere dynamic I'm trying to put forth! Also, I love listening to romantic music while writing for this 🩵 Until I finish Chapter 2, enjoy!

Synopsis: Being a noble meant that marriage was a chess game, not an affair of love. Unfortunately for the pristine Balthazar family of Fontaine, Y/N has long been enamored with love and sought it out before their priorities. After her grey, boring time of courtesy and fake niceness, she meets Duke Wriothesley, who makes her yearn for the first time in her life, and it's the same for him. Threatened by the idea of losing this first, it seems they'll stop at very little to be together...

Warnings: Obsessive yandere language, graphic details in Wriothesley's.

Tag: @yue-caelum

From: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

Dearest Duke,

I am not quite sure how to begin or structure my thoughts, so I hope you forgive me if this letter turns out messy. It's barely been 24 hours since our fateful meeting and I finally got some privacy. I should interest you in the fact that today's tea is Earl Grey. I'm having it right now, accompanied by a chocolate and strawberry mille-feuille. If you're ever feeling bold, I'd recommend this combination. Quite the contrast on the taste buds.

I realized that even with our cadence and how we enjoyed chatting together, there's still so much to know. How have you been doing? I'm presuming you're at the Fortress. How is life there? How do you spend your days there? Is it a lot of work? You told me a bit of the nurse. Sigewinne, if I recall correctly. Does she have a lot of patients? And what tea do you drink when you're feeling so tired and done with the world? (I'm partly asking this one for myself. Some days are like that.).

Though I must say, since Liffey is a bit far from Romaritime or the Court's region, you must have a good teleportation waypoint. Belleau is far, too, but by Focalors' name it is enjoyable. It's quiet, lush and lovely. The water is so nice to swim in too. I find that regular swimming is one of the most beautiful parts of my day. I might be heading into more dangerous territory saying this, but I believe you'd enjoy it a lot if I took you with me. If you had a day off and I showed you around, we could then swim in one of the lakes. It's so refreshing and fun, and a good break from the city.

Don't get me wrong; I love its bustle and life. But I know when we return, I'm going to have to look over these boring nobles' declarations, and meet with them more often. Speaking of which, I'm sorry to sound so forward, but... Well, are you interested in carrying this further?

I'd like to tell you something about my worldview. As you know, I read a lot, but last night I couldn't get into the 'why' due to mother's timing. As a child, I felt strangely bored with existence, maybe to a worrying point. That would explain my parents' fretting. I liked the dance and violin lessons, but there was something about my books that gave my gray life a bit of color. Unfortunately, having to come back to real life was a painful must. There were times where I thought to myself: "Is this really life? Boring, plain, and feeling wrong for watching everyone's intense reactions while I derived joy from so few things?". I didn't even want to think about my future as I become a woman. This was all before we met.

Ah, Wriothesley! I've been imagining it over and over in my head! I even stood outside in the cold and closed my eyes and pretended you were right next to me... Imagine my pain when I confronted reality, mixed with the excitement I felt remembering you! Even now, I can't stop kicking my feet as I write this. For the very first time, I was proven wrong. I was mistaken about life, and who said mistakes were bad? After years of chasing perfection, believing it was beauty and goodness... Why, I might have committed the most beautiful fault in existence!

Will you please prove me wrong again? I know I might get greedy and stick to my old worldview, just for it to happen again. But I swear, I'll be good and I'll stop. I just want to feel my entire body and soul rattling in excitement once more. And you're the only one that happens with.

Mother and Father are planning another social, soon after we return to the Court's region. My understanding says you're not often social, so if you don't want any part of it (or even, if I'm being too intense), discard this letter. I must go now, but if you're as invested as I, I will be awaiting a response. And if Celestia is kind, I will be open for more. I'll be open for anything if it's with you.

Yours truly,

Lady Y/N Balthazar

-----------------------------------------------------------------------

From: Duke Wriothesley of Meropide - Fortress of Meropide, Liffey Region, Fontaine

To: Lady Y/N Balthazar - Balthazar Vacation Manor, Belleau Region, Fontaine

To my cherished Lady,

I would like to start off by expressing my most feverish thanks, for reasons beyond enumeration. You taking the time to send me this lovely letter is the least of them. It is generally good form for a Duke to answer quick when he can, but I was so overjoyed with your letter's contents, I re-read it many times to take in all the joy you graced me with. I was also very touched with your personal confiance in me, so I'm also writing to return the favor.

First off, do you know how much I yearn to hear about your day, down to the little details? You talked a good deal about Belleau. I didn't care much about that region before, but now? All I've been thinking about is those fresh waters and woods you praised so highly. The only imagination I entertained was you, holding my hand, whispering that there were no nosy gossipers or greedy parents. Just the two of us, and the lake was all ours to swim in until we couldn't.

If it makes you laugh, I thought about it so much, I almost mistakenly wrote some prisoners' region tab as Belleau. Had Sigewinne not been near, the administrative mistake would have been a pain to fix. Are you laughing? I hope for it with all my heart.

And I want to know more. I want to know whether Earl Grey is your favorite, or you're only taking it because it's been brewed at that time. I want to know which chocolate you like best. Which books you're currently reading, and why you're so interested in lycanthropes without a hint of discrimination. Will you tell me more? If we get the chance to talk with less barriers, will you enlighten me with you?

After getting to know your old worldview, I question just how alike we are. It's easy for two people to share superficial interests. But when one feels so dissected, so naked knowing about another's deeper life and secrets, you can't help but question whether Celestia really does link souls. Whether you once knew them, or whether fate can be so perfect to send such a person your way. I'm sure you felt terrified writing it. Your mailbox may be private, but who knows when your family feels nosy and reads it? You know of the risks that come with such correspondence, especially as a maiden. Despite that, you didn't throw it into the trash. You wrote it, and sent it to me, letting me know about you. You may have just intoxicated me, and now I feel like I might die if that is all I know of you.

As respect to this, I'll confide in you, only it may be a little graphic. "If you feel queasy after this, feel free to end our correspondence here."... Is what I wish I could say with full honesty, because after that night, I'm not sure whether I can really be okay with that outcome.

I used to commit crime, both petty and serious. Such was the life of an orphan at the time. Being little fish wasn't an option; You had to be the top dog or get eaten alive. I opted for the first, even if it landed me in prison later on. My convictions range quite a bit, but once I grew up, I renounced crime. Even insignificant things. I wanted to leave that behind me.

Forget the obvious stealing sweets from the kitchen. When I saw that slimy Duke Arya talking to you, touching your shoulder, acting as if he always knew you and your wedding was tomorrow, I never felt the urge to murder as much as I did that night. The reasons behind my old violent crimes felt so small next to the ugly sight in front of me. You clearly didn't want him, but he kept going, as if you'd magically change your mind and be into slimeheads like him. How dare he be the reason you were pulled apart from me? Where does he get the gall to take you, act like you're owed to him if your parents decided?

How I wanted to end his pathetic standing, laughing, breathing. How I wanted to use my vision and punch his head out into an ice block, then freezing his wrangling body so he wouldn't mess up the carpet. How I wanted to lunge at him, bite, claw and make a bloody mess out of him. What did it matter if I perpetuated half-wolf stereotypes, when he was doing this? Which would hurt him more? Only one idea stopped me: You might not react to a show of violence so well. Oh, if I traumatized you, I'd never forgive myself. Being sent back to jail would be too light a punishment for a beast like that.

Please don't worry about transport, or ask about my attendance. I'm determined to attend that social. I'm so happy you told me about this in advance; I'm going to be seeing you, in all your radiance and beauty that make the world pale. So long as that happens, all is well for now. In the meantime, I'm adding some final touches to my declaration, and eagerly waiting for our next meeting, and hopefully the time I can freely take you into my arms, kiss you and prove the both of us wrong about everything.

With all the love I can hold,

Duke Wriothesley

#genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere wriothesley #yandere wriothesley x reader #yandere reader #yandere fontaine x reader

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hollowed-theory-hall · 2 months

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Hey, just a thought I've had about Fleur and Veela in general that's been floating in my head, and I thought you might appreciate it; I don't think Veela have hybrid offspring. Unless they reproduce asexually, there are male Veela, or two female Veela can produce an offspring, than all Veela have a non-Veela parent. The books don't really give Veela much attention, so all of that is certainly possible, but I like to consider other possibilities. We never see Fleur describe herself as quarter-Veela, correct me if I'm wrong, but it was only ever other charcters saying she was rumored to be quarter-Veela. This may be a rumor spread by Fleur's family: non-wizards aren't allowed to carry wands, at least in Britain, treating her like a witch with Veela ancestory would improve how she was treated immensely. I mean, like how parents with black hair and blonde hair wouldn't really have a child with both their hair colors. It's be whichever one is dominant. I consider Veela to be the dominant trait. Maybe all daughters are Veela, and sons non-Veela. Essentially, there is no thing as a pure Veela, or maybe, all Veela give birth to pure Veelas, and claiming a partial inheritance gives them better rights in the wizarding world. Just my headcanon I guess.

I'm not sure about that... Like, my knee-jerk reaction is that there is a difference between part-Veela and ful-Veela.

Like, the main reason I say that is that Harry has a different reaction to full-Veelas than to Fleur (and even her mother who should be a hlaf-Veela):

Looking careworn, she [Fleur] left the room. Ron still seemed slightly punch-drunk; he was shaking his head experimentally like a dog trying to rid its ears of water. “Don’t you get used to her if she’s staying in the same house?” Harry asked. “Well, you do,” said Ron, “but if she jumps out at you unexpectedly, like then . . .”

(HBP, 93)

Harry has no reaction to Fleur's Veela magic. None. Even though others do react to them. Same with Fleur's mother who Harry notes is beautiful, but he isn't reacting to the magic:

Mr. Weasley, who appeared at the gate moments later, laden with luggage and leading a beautiful blonde woman in long, leaf-green robes, who could only be Fleur’s mother.

(DH, 107)

I think that is because he's gay (or at least not interested in women). But even he still reacts to the magic of full-Veela:

But a hundred veela were now gliding out onto the field, and Harry’s question was answered for him. Veela were women . . . the most beautiful women Harry had ever seen . . . except that they weren’t — they couldn’t be — human. This puzzled Harry for a moment while he tried to guess what exactly they could be; what could make their skin shine moon-bright like that, or their white-gold hair fan out behind them without wind . . . but then the music started, and Harry stopped worrying about them not being human — in fact, he stopped worrying about anything at all. [...] And as the veela danced faster and faster, wild, half-formed thoughts started chasing through Harry’s dazed mind. He wanted to do something very impressive, right now. Jumping from the box into the stadium seemed a good idea . . . but would it be good enough? “Harry, what are you doing?” said Hermione’s voice from a long way off. The music stopped. Harry blinked. He was standing up, and one of his legs was resting on the wall of the box. Next to him, Ron was frozen in an attitude that looked as though he were about to dive from a springboard.

(GoF, 103)

Similarly, the full-Veela in the Quidditch World Cup have abilities Fleur doesn't seem to have:

At this, the veela lost control. Instead of dancing, they launched themselves across the field and began throwing what seemed to be handfuls of fire at the leprechauns. Watching through his Omnioculars, Harry saw that they didn’t look remotely beautiful now. On the contrary, their faces were elongating into sharp, cruel-beaked bird heads, and long, scaly wings were bursting from their shoulders —

(GoF, 111)

Additionally, the fact that Veela can get pregnant and reproduce with humans kind of erases the option of asexual reproduction. Yeah, I know they're magic, but if they didn't need to get pregnant the regular human way for the continuation of their species, they wouldn't be capable of it (especially as the Harry Potter version of Veela aren't immortal like their folklore variants). So, that brings us to the lack of male Veela.

You are right that male Veela are pretty necessary to have a difference between full-Veelas and part-Veelas. While the Harry Potter books don't really give an answer regarding Veela reproduction, I went to the mythology JKR based on them.

"Veela" is an Anglicized form of the name "Vila" which is a fairy-like spirit from Slavic folklore portrayed as a nature spirit like nymphs in Greek Mythology. Both nymphs and Vila are portrayed as only women, but they are also portrayed as minor deities, as immortal and eternal like the nature they represent with abilities the Harry Potter Veela do not have. Veela very in mythology quite a bit but they tend to be shapeshifters often living in a water source. Regardless, they are only female in myth as well and I couldn't find anything about their births. I found one source that claimed a child of a Veela and a human man would be a half-Veela but it didn't discuss how full Veela came into being. Since the mythology Veela are immortal spirits of nature they are born out of trees and rivers, representing nature itself. So, unless this is the case in Harry Potter (I don't think it fits the worldbuilding much) this front didn't give us answers.

So, I went to Bill and Fleur's wedding to see if I could spot a potential male Veela or male part Veela. And the answer is I couldn't. It also seems like all part-Veela share the same hair, eyes, skin color, and general appearance regardless of who the father is, so you are right about the Veela gens being the more dominant ones (Fleur and Gabrielle are both described with silvery blond Veela hair like their mother, even though their father has black hair and is described as plump).

So, yeah, speaking of the info we have in canon it's actually possible part-Veela don't really exist and that Veela can just choose to activate their charming magic in a more active way (that affects Harry, like in the Quidditch World Cup) or not and remain with just their passive charm (that doesn't affect Harry). But this doesn't really give an answer to the extra abilities full-Veela seem to have that part-Veela don't.

Another issue I have with this theory is that if Veela were indeed born this way for centuries, there is no way anyone would believe Fleur is a quarter-Veela. I mean, wizards are dense often enough, but I don't think they are that stupid. They would know how Veela reproduce and then not believe said rumors.

I think JKR just didn't think through all the implications of how she portrayed Veela...

Point is, your headcanon is possible, and you can headcanon it but I personally prefer to think of Fleur as a quarter-Veela and believe male Veela do exist. Because they do sorta exist in myth.

There are Näcken from German and Scandinavian folklore that are shapeshifting water spirits that are portrayed as handsome men, they occasionally lure people to their deaths and occasionally fall in love with human women and go live with them. The Näcken in Scandinavian folklore are always portrayed as male. In German mythology Nixie or Nixe can be either male or female from what I read. So, male Veela could exist and just potentially be known by a different name with slightly different abilities.

I mean, the Veela in Harry Potter attract people with dancing and music, the Näcken plays the violin to lure people to drown. Both are shapeshifters that are spirits of nature (Veela in various locations: forests, air, and water while the Näcken are only associated with water). Both are sometimes malevolent and sometimes helpful to humans. There are a lot of similarities so I like to headcanon them as sorta of the same species but with different typical appearance and name, hence the confusion.

So in a sense, there are no full-Veela males, but the other similar creatures, Näcken. Now, I'm not sure if half-Veela and half-Näcken would be the same or different, but that's a whole other discussion and goes more heavily into my headcanons.

I can't speak to what JKR intended, but your headcanon is possible. I just prefer to imagine "male Veela" and "male part-Veela" are out there somewhere (the quotation marks because they use a name that isn't Veela, the full ones at least).

#hp #harry potter #hp meta #asks #anon asks #anonymous #wizarding world #hp magical theory #magical genetics #veela #hollowedheadcanon #hp headc

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chvoswxtch · 1 year

Note

Hi! For my first drink could I order an old fashioned with Frankie when he is jealous pls, idk why but I wanna see him in that situation 😏

hi nonnie!

one old fashioned with a bright green garnish coming right up. 😏

headcannon below the cut

frank castle & jealousy

in my humble opinion, frankie is absolutely the jealous type, but he's very quiet about it

it's not that he doesn't trust you, it's more so his own self-esteem issues and the hyperawareness of the baggage he carries around

frankie thinks you are literally the most beautiful thing to ever be crafted by the universe and he doesn't understand what you see in him or why you find him attractive

and despite how many times you tell him all of the many reasons you have for falling in love with him, and all the ways you show him just how handsome you find him, that green eyed monster still rears its ugly head

like when that coworker of yours that's always hitting on you, that he fucking hates, tells a joke and you laugh at it, frankie wants to know what the fuck is so funny and then he starts questioning if you think he is funny (even though you always laugh at his jokes, and when he says something you find funny that he doesn't really get but fuck it, it made you laugh)

he let you get the next round at the bar one time, but after seeing how the bartender openly flirted with you and the attention you got from the other patrons, frankie insisted on getting every round from then on out

but then he noticed that those assholes would just come up to your table when he got up, and it made his blood boil seeing how close they got to you, even if he could tell by your face that you were telling them you weren't interested

but frankie is quiet about his jealousy. he doesn't make a scene unless absolutely necessary

he doesn't rush up to the table and tell that stupid son of a bitch off, no he calmly walks up and stands behind him, glaring daggers into the back of his head until the idiot notices the look on your face and follows the path of your eyesight and finally notices his presence

he can't deny the smugness he feels seeing how their eyes go wide and watching them back away slowly with their tail tucked between their legs, holding their hands up in surrender, quickly scurrying away with a mumbled "sorry man, didn't know she was with you"

frankie gets lucky in that he doesn't have to say anything, he can just glare

when your goddamn coworker catches his piercing gaze from across the room, he suddenly stops laughing, and puts as much distance between himself and you as possible

when the bartender notices him stalking up behind you, placing his hand possessively on your waist and staring at him with murderous intent, the bartender's smile instantly drops and he's shoving your drinks forward and rushing to the other end of the bar

frankie only gets physical if someone can't take the hint or dares to put their hands on you

but whenever frankie is done scaring off your admirers and turns to look at you, his icy glare instantly melts into pools of shame as you stare back at him with a displeased quirk of your brow and a light smirk on your lips

as soon as he hears that warning tone laced within your sweet rendition of his name, he's quickly looking anywhere but at you like a child acting like they don't know what they're in trouble for

"frank." "what? just standin' here. that a crime?"

he knows you're never really upset with him by the way you giggle and shake your head, hands reaching out to grab him by his arms to pull him in closer towards you

"i don't know what you bother getting so worked up about, big guy. you're the one that gets to take me home."

frankie does know that, but he often wonders if the day would come that you decide you want someone else. someone less complicated that didn't carry the weight of a lifetime of trauma and loss on their shoulders. someone that didn't make a career of violence and bloodshed. someone that didn't come home to you bruised and broken. someone better than him

"i know, sweetheart. don't mean you gotta deal with their shit, though."

"i never have to. you always come to my rescue. my hero."

frankie always melts when you call him that, because he never thinks of himself as a hero, but you say it with such sincerity, it makes him believe it

and when you kiss him like you're the only two people in the room, he forgets what the hell he was jealous about in the first place

#frank castle #frank castle request #frank castle headcanon #frank castle x reader #frank castle x you #court's 2k follower celebration #court's 2k friends celebration

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it-was-funeral-grey · 10 months

Text

Moving nowhere (Al Haitham x F!Reader)

Masterlist Part 5 Part 6 Part 7

Summary: you’re finally back home, so things should be back to normal, right?

Warnings: reader's parents (mother and father), anxious reader, a scream, blood, death (not F!reader or al haitham)

Word count: <3.4k

Inspired by: -

Author's note: i'm back! i'm thinking of setting up a writing schedule, and make writing a habit again.

Please give criticism! Also, if i missed any warnings, do tell me so i can add them!

Up until a month ago, owning books for personal use was against the Akademiya's rules. So, things like storybooks and guidebooks weren't a thing that most people grew up with. Books were considered items only used by Akademiya students or teachers (and record keepers)- untouchable and unnecessary for the common folk. Who needed books, anyway? The Akasha Terminal had everything, after all.

Oh, but you were different. And so much better off for it, so you'd like to believe.

Your mother was a trader- a rather adventurous one, at that. Instead of trading by Port Ormos, waiting for business to come her way, she'd set sail with her wares to the seven nations. And when she came home, she brought back all sorts of souvenirs.

One day, after a particularly long trip to Liyue, she came home carrying a mysterious brown squarish thing.

"They call this a book," your mother had told you, gently placing the item in your hands as she closed the door behind her. "Open it and take a look!"

Taking the item from your mother, you slowly turned it in your hands, running a finger along its unbound side- the concaved, pressed pages bound by leather.

"Records of... Jun- no, Jui-"

"Records of Jueyun," your mother corrected. "It's a storybook."

"What's that?"

"Why don't you open it?"

You cautiously pulled the hardcover and were greeted by pages upon pages of writing. But these writings were different from the passages you had to read at the village school.

Words- both new and familiar, were placed together in ways you have never seen before, creating beautiful pictures in your mind.

"...The merciful Geo Archon granted their request and made them as such. The end."

"Wait! That's it?!" you exclaim, desperately trying to find another page to turn. But all there was the brown, empty book cover. "That's all?"

"This is only the first volume," Your mother chuckled, patting your head gently as she took the book back. "I'm glad you enjoyed it. I'll try to bring the next one another time, alright?"

"...Alright, but can I keep it?" you reached out, trying to take the book.

There was a pause from your mother as she pulled the book away from your reaching hands.

"Pleaseee?"

"Only if you promise to keep this a secret, alright?" Your mother squatted to your eye level, her tone serious. "You have to keep this book a secret, ok? No one can know that we have this."

"Yes! I will!"

"Alright, now go put the book at the bottom of your toy box. And then let's go help Daddy cook some dinner!"

At that time, your enthusiasm distracted you from the seriousness in your mother's tone. As a young child, you didn't think about why you weren't allowed to tell anyone about your new possession- or why your mother had removed her Akasha Terminal when she spoke of the book. All you could think of were brave stone beasts and a magical land called "Liyue".

As tough as it was, you managed to keep the secret until the Matra barged into your home many years later (though the Personal Books Act was abolished by then). In those years, however, your obsession with books only grew- and was wholly encouraged by your parents. You learned how to read and to learn through reading. As a result, the Akasha Terminal you had received from the Akademiya when you turned 18 had been useless to you- what could it tell you that your precious books could not? The information you wanted was sometimes beyond what your credentials allowed you anyway. Besides, you loved the process of reading and reading and reading even more before you finally found what you wanted to know. What was the point of having information beamed into your mind when you could learn that and way more through books and research?

"The world doesn't just consist of Sumeru," your mother had told you two years later on the day you moved out with your secret massive (and illegal) collection of books. "Go, look further than Vimara Village. Explore! Your books can only tell you so much."

"I know, Mum," your voice strains as you place a crate packed with books shrouded in cloth into your new home. In the interest of saving money, you hadn't moved far- just about a kilometre from your parents' house. It's a little bigger than your family home, which means more places for you to store (hide) your books. "But Liyue's Law School is expensive, and I want to save up as much as I can for it."

"You're an intelligent young woman," your father dusts off his hands. "I'm sure there are bursaries and scholarships that you can apply for. And if money is an issue-"

"Thank you, Dad, but it's fine. I want to be able to go there using my own money- if I don't learn to save and make my own Mora, when will I ever learn how to?"

"We understand, dear," your mother sighs, looking at you. "We just don't want you to waste your youth away toiling away when you could go to Liyue and learn and enjoy yourself now. You'll have all the time in Teyvat to work when you're older."

"And what I want is for the two of you to enjoy your retirement and explore Teyvat," you smile at your mother. "Don't worry about me! I'll learn lots from the work experience! It's like you always say, Mum..."

"Book learning alone is not enough to cultivate intelligence. All those scholars from the Akademiya are prime examples."

If you're being honest, you don't want to leave your house. But if you don't head out now, you'll miss the only opportunity to buy groceries from Bahram until tomorrow morning. You don't think the onion (half an onion- Al Haitham ate the other half) from yesterday can sustain you till then.

You shut the door again, sighing as you stretched your sprained ankle. It doesn't hurt as much as yesterday, thankfully. But your stomach does, as it growls yet again.

One more minute. One more minute, and you'll head out.

You stare at your feet as you clutch your door handle, pulling it slightly open again. 60, 59, 58…

Your heart pounds. For some reason, the sounds outside your door seem sharper now. You hear every footstep, every laugh, every shuffle-

40, 39, 38…

There are people outside. So, so many people.

The moment you step out, you know you'll be under fire. Everyone thinks you had kidnapped the Acting Grand Sage, after all.

What are they saying about you now?

30, 29, 28…

Your reputation is probably in shambles right now. Getting arrested was pretty much social suicide. Falsely accused or not, it doesn't matter. The village gossipers don't care.

Maybe it's better to stay at home. No one can see you here. You can't hear the things they'll say about you here.

They'll all stare at you if you go out. Angry, disgusted stares. All pointed at you.

20, 19, 18…

Yeah. Home doesn't sound too bad. Food? Technically, paper is made from trees, yes? And trees are kind of like vegetables. You'll have a damn healthy diet if you eat your books. Thankfully, you have no shortage of them.

10, 9, 8…

Yep. Home is where the heart is, and your bookshelf can be your new food pantry.

5, 4, 3…

You remove your hand from the handle. One light push and your door will close- shutting you from the world.

You'll be safe.

You'll be alone.

You place your hand back on the handle, ready to push.

2, 1-

But just as you are about to push, fingers wrap around the edge of the open door and push back against you, forcing the door wide open.

Zero.

Al Haitham was supposed to head back immediately after settling things with Dilawar. That was the plan. He had no time to waste hanging around anywhere other than his office.

That was the plan.

Thanks to her directions, he managed to find Dilawar's house not long after he left her home. He had pounded on the man's door relentlessly till he opened up.

And when he finally did, Al Haitham went off.

Al Haitham had let him know the full extent of his frustrations regarding the lack of response to his letters. And let Dilawar know how appalled he was when he came to the port to find it completely deserted- how could he, the main trade supervisor, let that happen?

"But Acting Grand Sage Al Haitham, be reasonable! There was nothing for the workers to do-"

"It is one thing to cut down on staff. It is a whole other thing to call it quits the moment things go south and lay everyone off," Al Haitham ranted. "I sent the first letter three months ago a day after the Port Ormos crash. The fact that I heard nothing back- and that I found that letter completely unread and on your desk alongside the others in your office shows that you immediately abandoned your post," Al Haithan sighed heavily. "According to the reports I received, merchant ships were still coming in when the Wikala Funduq shut down. Trade could have still gone on- however inefficiently- had you and Ms Gauhar not caved."

It wasn't like Al Haitham to go on and on like this about things that have already happened and cannot be changed. But he can't help it. The Port Ormos issue has been one of his biggest headaches that has been going on for three months now. And all because two flimsy trade supervisors can't do their job right the moment their Akasha Terminals couldn't help them. The reason for the Port Ormos Crash was internal- which made him all the more upset.

By the time Al Haitham finished dealing with Dilawar, night had fallen. He was exhausted- but not so much that he would have taken Dilawar's guest room. All he wants is to recharge in peace. Alone. In silence.

Turning the noise cancellation on his earpieces, he slowly walked out of Dilawar's house and turned towards the village dock. But just as he looked ahead to see where he was going, he saw something glowing softly below in the distance.

Squinting his eyes, Al Haitham took a step forward- what in Teyvat is that? Now that he thinks about it, won't this direction head towards her home? All he'll have to do is take the slope back down, and she'll be right there.

Ah, wait. That is her home- and if he focuses hard enough, he can see that whatever is glowing is coming from her home. The pieces start to click- it's candlelight. She's lighting candles around her home. The Matra destroyed everything- even her lanterns.

Peering over the ledge, Al Haitham silently observes a single, flickering orange orb float from one end of her home to another- slowly illuminating room by room in a gentle glow. It's so much easier on the eye than the other houses with obnoxiously bright white lanterns.

Through the now backlit curtains, he sees her silhouette- and he watches her as she blows out the candle in her hand. He watches her graceful movements as she slowly makes her way across the room, running her hands along what he recalls to be one of her bookshelves- the one where she told him to place her law books.

She runs a finger slowly down the spine of one of her books, and Al Haitham feels a shiver go down his- snapping him out of whatever trance he was stuck in.

Archons, he must be exhausted. What is he, a creep? Staring at someone in their own home??

Gathering himself, he looks around. It's 15-minute walk back to the dock. With no guarantee that there's anyone still awake to take him back to Sumeru City.

Might as well spend the night here. The more he entertained the thought, the more appealing it sounded.

Oh, whatever, Al Haitham caves. He's too tired, and the ambience is too comfortable to resist. Finding what seems to be a nice tree, he settles himself down, leaning his head against the solid wooden bark as he watches the gentle glow of the distant candlelights lull him to sleep.

And if his eyes ever drifted to the woman still picking out a book to read? Well, that'll be a secret between him and imaginary Kaveh (unfortunately).

"Are you alright?"

Out of anyone who you thought would bust into your house today, he wasn't one of them. You were expecting more of an angry mob- or one of those angry-Acting-Grand-Sage-fanatic that had missed the notice that you were innocent and was going to kill you in revenge for kidnapping the Acting Grand Sage (yeah, you've read too many Mondstadt romance novels).

"Al Haitham?" you stabilise yourself, taking a step towards him. "What are you doing here?"

"Can I come in?"

"Ah, of course," you say, realising at that moment that the now fully open door left you fully exposed to the outside world. "Come on in!" You invite, before promptly shutting the door behind him.

He's carrying something, you notice as you turn back to face him. Alongside his overnight bag, he's got a paper bag filled with stuff.

"Is everything alright?"

"Yes," he replies calmly, looking around your home- his eyes lingering along a candlestand attached to your wall. "I just came by to pass you these," he hands over the paper bag to you. "Some groceries."

"Oh, you shouldn't have-"

"If I haven't, would you have gone out to get them yourself?" Al Haitham interrupts. "I saw you hover your door for over an hour."

"Ah, you saw that," you respond sheepishly.

"I did. You opened the door just to close it every time."

"Well..."

"What are you afraid of?" Al Haitham cocks his head towards the door. "Your neighbours?"

When you don't reply, Al Haitham sighs.

"How's your ankle?" He changes the subject, motioning for you to sit on the couch.

"It's much better than yesterday! Just a bit of aching, but I'm fine," you reply hastily, grateful for the subject change. You don't want to talk about what could be awaiting you outside your door.

"That's good," Al Haitham sits opposite you, glancing at the book you've left on the armrest. "'Sumeru Law 203". I'm impressed you managed to get ahold of an Akademiya textbook."

"Oh!" Now this, you want to want to talk about. You've never had anyone to enthuse with about your book collection before. "I bought it from an Akademiya student passing by Port Ormos a couple of years ago! He kept saying that he wanted to quit and was throwing a whole fit at the docks!" you chuckle, remembering the scene. You had tried to calm him and encourage him, but it seemed his mind was made up, so you offered to buy the book from him. It took quite a bit of convincing since it was very illegal for Akademiya-associated individuals to sell their books to non-Akademiya individuals. But when you showed the student that you were willing to pay quite the sum, his determination wavered and eventually gave in.

"You're very lucky the Matra found you after the Personal Book Act was abolished," Al Haitham looks at your packed bookshelves as he flips to a page in the textbook. "All these books would have given you... at least a fifteen-year sentence- and your textbooks," he gives the one he holds a little shake in your direction while glancing at you, "would have been a separate sentence- easily ten years per book and-"

"The sentences would have been ordered to run consecutively, not concurrently," you finish his line. He looks up from the book, and you think he almost looks impressed. "I have seven Akademiya textbooks. In total, I would have sat in jail for no less than eighty-five years."

"...That's right."

"I could have spent an entire lifetime behind bars."

"You could have."

"Do you think I was stupid, then? To take a risk just to read books when I could have asked the Akasha Terminal and have all the knowledge beamed into my head instead?"

Al Haitham shuts the book gently and hands it back to you. His response is almost immediate.

"No. If anything, I think you are all the more brilliant for doing so."

Al Haitham spends the rest of the morning chatting with her about books. He gave his honest comments on those he had read before and took note of the ones she recommended. It was refreshing, to say the least.

This was the first time he'd ever spoken to someone so enthusiastic about reading. Any reader he had come across before this were all Akademiya students- who mostly did read begrudgingly just so they could say they fulfilled their book annotation coursework in the House of Daena. The only other person who even had the slightest chance of matching her current enthusiasm was Kaveh- and he didn't even like reading as much as he liked spewing out his opinions in whatever architecture book he was annotating.

But her- she enjoyed it, reading. She liked getting confused by the words, and looking them up in a (Al Haitham hardly gets surprised by anything, but this did) actual, paper dictionary. She likes jumping back pages to re-read that one sentence she did not understand, but they referenced it later so she has to. She liked finding out that one book said this, and the other said that- so she could think about both and try to figure out which made more sense to her.

The effort. The focus. The occasional paper cut. She loved all of it.

It was a whole experience watching her talk about what she had read. Hearing what she thought about it- telling her what he thought about it- pushing each other's horizons just that little bit further.

He loved it.

"I mean, I think it's valid for Risha to think like that," she states, pointing out a passage in a novel. They had moved on from non-fiction to fiction- from the bookshelf near the main door to the one at the back wall. "But her reaction wasn't justified- Ona doesn't deserve that at all! She didn't know!"

"I agree," Al Haitham prepares to rebut. "But-"

A shrill scream pierces through the calm atmosphere, and she nearly falls out of her seat.

"What happened?!"

"It sounds like it's coming from the houses above," Al Haitham hears a flurry of footsteps leading towards the slope. "Let's go."

By the time you reach the top of the slope, you're not far behind Al Haitham. Panting, you look up. Everyone's gathered around Mr Dilawar's house- and is someone crying?

"Get behind me," Al Haitham whispers to you. "Is your ankle-"

"My ankle's fine. I'm just- just out of shape," you pant. "That's Mr Dilawar's house."

"I met him there yesterday," Al Haitham slowly pushes past the crowd. "I stayed with him till the late evening, before I-"

"What-"

You've suddenly spun around, facing away from the house.

"Al Haitham?! What are you-" You turn your head to face back, but he blocks your vision with a quick step.

"How comfortable are you with blood?"

"Blood? What do you mean-"

"Human blood. In large quantities."

A shiver goes down your spine.

"Al Haitham, what happened to Mr Dilawar?"

Just as Al Haitham was about to reply, a loud voice from the house yelled at the crowd to give way. You step aside, guided by Al Haitham, as a makeshift stretcher quickly carries something covered by a red-stained tarp away from his house. The smell is unmistakable- it's blood.

You turn to face the house, and this time Al Haitham doesn't block you. You're instantly greeted by a world of red- which you're sure extends further into his house if only you have the guts to check.

"Who was the last person to see him?" A man sobs- Mr Azmas. "That must be who killed my brother! Find him now! Get the Matra!"

"I met him there yesterday," Al Haitham had pushed past the crowd. "I stayed with him till the late evening, before I-"

You have a bad feeling about this. A shiver, now threatening to break into full-blown trembling threatens to take over your body as you turn to face the green-clad man slowly.

"Al Haitham, what happened with Mr Dilawar?"

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sirthisisa-wendys · 1 year

Note

Since its hand her over asks- will we get a pt 2 for Mochi? Like comforting each other after what happened

(I am actually sucker for angst, so maybe founding out his wife is pregnant but they both don't know who the father is Mochi or Sanzu)

Hand Her Over II (Part 3): Kanji Mochizuki/ Kokonoi Hajime & Inupi Seishu x Fem!Reader

wc: 1.4k

tw: it's gonna fuckin' hurt

masterlist

Hand Her Over Megapost

Kanji Mochizuki

"See? Your baby is right... there." Mochi closes his hand into a fist as he sits beside you. You're quiet, too, looking at the screen with a blank face.

The nurse doesn't know the truth. And even when you two leave the building, it feels like this horrible secret will remain between the two of you... and your child.

The passenger door is opened for you, and before you can climb inside, Mochi takes your hand.

"Hey." You look up from the ground and into his eyes. "I don't care if it's his," Mochi finally murmurs, rubbing his thumb over your knuckles. "I'll love it regardless."

You stand there. The wind ruffles your skirt as you stare at Mochi, and your eyes glaze over. Tears - little ones, not the big ones Mochi is used to - drop from your eyes. But you push them away and pull away from Mochi, even though it's the last thing he wants right now.

What he would prefer is to have you next to him at night, sleeping soundly, unbothered by the whole ordeal. It would be perfect if the two of you could forget about it and move on. But life is never that easy.

"Can you help me out of my shoes?"

Mochi closes the back door and latches it as soon as you both are inside. That's a new habit of his, even though he's in a gated community.

"Sure, baby." When he stoops down to unstrap your sandals, he notices the swelling of your ankles. "Do your ankles hurt?" Mochi's still on the floor, kneeling before you, and when he looks up at your face, all thoughts - except one - flee from his mind.

God, you're so beautiful.

Mochi can see it now: you're waddling into the kitchen with a hand on your stomach, grumbling about the baby kicking during your attempt at a nap. He's standing at the kitchen counter, pouring over the expense reports for the month and sipping his coffee. You sidle up next to him and kiss his temple before slamming the laptop shut and demanding his attention.

And hell, he'd gladly give it. Every single time.

"Mochi?" Your voice brings him out of the divine vision, and he exhales.

"Sorry. What'd you say, my love?"

"I said I think a foot rub would be nice." His smile is genuine, and Mochi ushers you to the bedroom with the common courtesy of a gentleman.

Foot rubs are something Mochi loves to do, and even more so now that you're pregnant with his child. His. No one else could claim them.

He grabs the lotion on the dresser and squeezes some into his hand, inhaling the lavender scent eagerly before approaching you. Your right foot is between his hands when you finally say something. Your voice is soft, but he can hear the intent behind your words.

"What if the child... looks like him?" Mochi shrugs.

"I won't mind." The child might inherit that fool's eyes, but that would be the worst of it. No scars. No pink hair. No menacing scowl. None of that.

"But I will." Mochi stops. You place your hand on your barely round stomach and inhale shakily. "I don't want to carry that monster's child." He'd never thought of that. Mochi feels a part of him deflate, and he looks away, considering that he could be further away from his ideal life than he thought. But you catch the look in his eye.

"You thought because you said you'd accept the child that everything would magically be okay, didn't you?"

"I never said that," Mochi replies, frowning.

"You didn't have to." You pull your foot away from his grip and scrunch your brows together. Tears come to your eyes again, and they're the fat ones - the massive droplets that mean he's fucked up.

"Baby, I--" Your lip quivers, and Mochi knows he's lost any footing the moment you begin to cry. Your hands come up to your face, and you sob, breaking Mochi's heart. "I'm sorry." He tries to cradle you in his arms, but you push him away roughly.

You don't say anything as you walk to the bathroom, leaving Mochi sitting on the bed alone.

Kokonoi Hajime

"Hey!" The Facetime calls are always brief, but Koko treasures them. Inupi is on the phone and rolling out of bed, shirtless. "What have you been up to? It's two p.m. over there."

"Just lazing around," Inupi murmurs, wiping his eyes and yawning.

"Are you taking naps now?" Kokonoi jokes, but Inupi shakes his head.

"What're you doing today? Or should I say tonight?" As Inupi walks around the mid-sized home, Kokonoi admires his purchase for the only man in his life.

"Just finishing up some work," Kokonoi lies, sipping from a wine glass leisurely. "Going to get ready for a night out after this." Inupi's eyes glow with mischief.

"You gonna get laid, huh?"

Kokonoi chokes on his wine. "What?" Inupi shakes his head and laughs, obviously amused.

"Nothing, nothing."

"Who's on the phone?" Kokonoi perks up at the sound of your voice, fully expecting to see you coming through the back door or something. But when you appear wearing only a bathrobe and freshly washed face, something in his gut sinks.

"Koko!" Your joyous shout is accompanied by a smile, and Kokonoi can't help himself. He smiles back. "Are you alright?"

"I'm fine," he reassures you, then watches you plant a kiss on Inupi's temple.

"When are you coming to see us?" Inupi playfully swats your ass as you walk a little to the right and fully out of Kokonoi's sight. Kokonoi sees the silly grin he gives you, and suddenly, he feels... lost.

"Not... not for a while. It'll take some time for things to die down here." Inupi isn't fully paying attention, it seems.

The bare chest. The robe. The kiss. The--

"Well, when you do come, please bring y/n those fancy hair clips. She keeps breaking them."

"I'm not the one breaking them," you shout, just off camera.

"How do they get broken, then?" Kokonoi asks, not checking his tone before he speaks. Inupi looks down at the phone and sees Koko's face.

Maybe it's the lateness. Maybe it's the wine. Maybe it's the sight of his lovers moving on - and together - without him. Inupi stands up from his perch on the couch and walks away from the living room. Kokonoi doesn't speak or watch. He looks away as his lover's cheeks bloom red a little.

"Kokonoi," Inupi begins when he's out of your hearing.

"No, don't explain it to me." It's petty, and they both know it.

"You have to understand. She's been hurting a lot... We've been hurting a lot. I admit, it's kind of stupid when you think about it... We were with you, and now... we're with each other."

"When were you going to tell me?"

"She wanted to tell you immediately after it happened the first time."

"An accident?" Kokonoi's tone is sour, but he doesn't care. He's been left in the dark about this tryst for too long. Inupi sighs, sitting on the ottoman at the foot of the bed, and he leans over, rubbing his eyes a little. "Was it an accident?"

"I was comforting her."

"So you started all of this?"

"It's not like that Koko--"

"Why didn't either of you tell me? She wanted to; why didn't you?"

Inupi pauses, then he looks away. "I didn't tell you... because I didn't feel guilty." The admission hits Kokonoi like a sack of bricks to the gut. "I didn't feel guilty at all. It felt so good, and I'd never really considered being with y/n like that until now."

"You want to have a family, is that it?" Inupi hangs his head. "You want her to be the mother of your kids, huh?"

"Hajime, please..." Inupi's voice is broken. "We can all still be a family."

"But you like fucking her more than you care about my feelings!"

"Fucking her?" Inupi looks down at the phone, and a flicker of rage crosses his features. Kokonoi huffs out a surprised laugh, leaning back in the chair and blinking.

"How long?"

"What?"

"How long have you had feelings for her, Seishu?" Inupi flinches.

"Ever since you abandoned us at the airport."

"You've got to be kidding me." His thumb hovers over the end button, and Inupi doesn't even offer him the courtesy of a "wait." Koko ends the call, dropping the phone on the desk and looking at the arched ceiling.

Oh, what he wouldn't give for it to crumble in on him right now.

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