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tsukimefuku · 5 months

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wardrobe malfunction ❖ nanami kento

summary: your cursed technique isn't exactly clothing-friendly, and when you find yourself in a less than ideal situation, you only had one person you could ask for help.

tags: jujutsu kaisen, f!reader, light nanami x reader, cursing, kind of suggestive but not exactly (?), second hand embarrassment is real, this is just pure crack to be honest, is reader lucky or unlucky? i fret, for i do not know, this is barely proofread because i wrote this absolute nonsense on a complete whim, i hope you have as much fun reading this as i did writing it.

wc: 1k

❖ collection of stories: "jujutsu partners au" → masterlist for fics listed in chronological order of events

You had just finished blowing up a grade 2 curse that lunged at you full-speed. Your chest heaved up and down with tiny droplets of sweat coming down, as you panted inside the abandoned apartment complex. For a while, the adrenaline pumping through your veins made it hard to assess your state, but then, as you began decelerating and looked at your body, you realized something.

“Oh, no. Not again.”

Considering your innate cursed technique involved casting small bombs of cursed energy, they could blow up through many things, and when you didn’t manage to distance yourself from them before the impact… Well, safe to say that some things were bound to happen.

You pulled your phone ready to call… someone. Anyone, really. But the ancient piece of technology that you failed to replace in these past few weeks wouldn’t let you access your contacts list, providing you solely with your three last dialed numbers — Gojo, Yaga and Nanami.

Your fucking phone. Your damn, fucking phone.

Just thinking about this had you beyond mortified, but it was either this, or never leaving the building again. So you took a deep breath before pressing dial.

***

Nanami found Shoko to take care of some minor injuries on his arm, and as she was finished, his phone rang. He pulled it out of his pocket, and saw your name flashing on the screen.

As he answered, you stuttered for a moment before mustering up the courage to speak.

“So, Nanami, I need, uh, some assistance.”

He found that to be odd, considering you knew he was on another mission today, and this was a solo endeavor for you.

“Has something happened?”

“So, you know how my technique works, right?”

That question had the sorcerer feeling somewhat puzzled, given he had seen you use it — and explain it — multiple times already.

“Of course, we've been on missions together, and you have explained it to me more than once.”

You sighed before proceeding. “So, here's the thing, I kind of blew myself up.”

That quickly got his attention and he tensed up. Shoko had just finished removing her gloves and noticed it.

“Are you injured?” His usually impassive voice had a hint of worry to it.

“No, no. I'm fine. Sometimes this kind of happens, and I'm pretty used to blocking the impact and using RCT if needed.”

Is it her? Is she okay? She better be, I need her tomorrow, Shoko whispered at Nanami as she walked around and sat on a bench in front of him.

He didn’t notice what she asked, as he was humming confusedly, given you still hadn’t clarified why you called.

Your voice kind of cracked up for a moment, as you violently blushed on the other side. At least, the phone is an imageless form of communication.

“So, I’m okay. But my clothes, they, uh… I blew them up.”

He slowly began taking in what exactly you were saying.

“That's it, that’s what happened. I… I need clothes, please. Can you bring me some, just so I can get out of here without getting arrested for public indecency?”

Nanami kept silent for some time, and felt a slight rush of heat run over his cheeks.

“Nanami?”

He coughed slightly, tensing his posture as he did.

“Yes, of course. But wouldn't you rather someone else to do that for you, like Ms. Nitta, or one of the female students?”

That caught Shoko’s attention, and she discreetly looked at the sorcerer while he was still on the phone with you.

You nearly gagged.

“No! No way. I… I'm mortified as is.”

Somebody please fucking kill me.

“I can't talk about this with anyone else. It's too damn embarrassing,” you stated, letting your mind go to random facts in order to try lifting the mood. “I now understand why that student from Kyoto keeps taking his shirt off to fight, but that's beside the point.”

You were met at the wake of your failed joke.

“I-I mean… Just bring me something, please.”

Nanami cleared his throat as he pulled on his tie and opened his shirt’s top button.

“Fine. Send me your location.”

You sighed, relieved.

“Great, you're the best, thank you!”

He switched his phone off and grounded himself for a moment.

“Is she alright?”

“Yes, she is,” he answered, some words choking on their way up for a second. “Ms. Ieiri, do you happen to have any clothes around here?”

“What? Why would you need that?”

He couldn’t muster up anything remotely feasible to say, and given that embarrassment is an infectious condition, it began creeping up on him, too.

Nanami resumed speaking. “… I'm sorry to bother you. I just remembered I can get an assistant's uniform.”

He then walked towards the door to leave.

“Nanami…” Shoko began.

“Hm?” He asked, as turning around.

“… Are you blushing?”

“... Good afternoon,” he answered, before stepping out a little quicker than usual.

***

Nanami had just arrived, and you let him know you were upstairs. As he asked how you wanted to receive the clothes, you were insistent that he threw the bag over the steps, and being a reasonable and rational person, the sorcerer obviously declined to do that.

“Just throw the thing already!” you yelled from the top of the stairs, away from his sight.

“I’m not uncivilized,” he replied, sighing. “I’m going to put them down here, and wait for you outside.”

Nanami was considerably less mortified than you would expect, but it was him, Mr. mature, after all. Also, this wasn’t the first embarrassing situation of yours that he had witnessed.

You were prone to setting yourself up for absurd shenanigans, it seemed.

As you heard him leave and close the door, you stepped your way down and flimsily put the black pants and white buttoned shirt, which didn’t match at all with the hiking boots you usually wore on missions.

You went outside, and were met by him, his usual impassiveness slightly disturbed by something you couldn’t quite yet identify.

“Thank you, Nanami,” you stated, sighing relieved.

“It’s no trouble,” he answered, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose.

You were both uncomfortably silent for a while.

“These kinds of unexpected things happ-”

“We will never talk about this again as long as I live, please, I can’t cope” you pleaded, voice simmering with desperation for this awkward moment to be over, “just, please.”

He cleared his throat, mindlessly adjusting his tie around his neck. It strangely felt more tight than usual.

“Of course. I apologize.”

“No need. It’s fine. Let’s just go back to Jujutsu High and pretend this never happened.”

“I do not know what you’re talking about,” he said, sparing you a quick glance.

You smiled, amused and thankful.

“Right. Precisely.”

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trainsinanime · 10 months

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Your favorite fanfic writer doesn't know (but would like to)

Let's talk about comments on fanfics. This is not meant as a guide or call to action, just a bit of observations. Personally, I always saw it as impolite to ask for reviews or kudos or comments or likes or reblogs or whatever. That's not a rational point of view, it just reflects how I am. And people actually telling others that they have to leave any of this feedback? I've blocked folks over that. In my mind that's not okay. I'm not announcing a change of that, this is not a policy, just some deep-seated mental issues, but I want to write down some more things that have been going through my mind, from the perspective of someone who occasionally writes fanfics. My previous suggestion in this regard was mostly to write some fanfic yourself and see what happens and what you'd like to happen, because it's genuinely fun and I think you probably have more to say than you realise.

But there's also another point here, and that is that your favourite fanfic writer has no idea that they are. If you're anything like me, then it will seem like the great writers in your fandom are obvious. Also, the last time you bought Blåhajs, it ended with you having to flee a smoke-filled subway tunnel. The great stories and great writers in your universe are facts of nature. You read a story and you think, "this is the greatest thing I've ever seen." A story rewires your brain chemistry forever. You keep coming back and reading that one fic whenever the mood hits you. It feels obvious that this story is great. How could it not be?

It feels trite to say that the author of that fic doesn't know that unless you tell them, but it's hard to really understand the feeling unless you've been there yourself. You write a story, but is it any good? Maybe you get a lot of kudos, or maybe very little, but what does either of that mean? Kudos can mean literally anything from "loved this" to "didn't close the tab in disgust". Maybe you just got unlucky. Maybe you just got lucky. What do these numbers mean? What is a good number of kudos? 1? 10? 100? 1000? Should I calculate ratios? How do I know whether people like this?

In light of this, a comment where someone just said, "I loved this", has an almost incalculable worth. A comment where someone says they read this over and over again, or quotes lines they loved, or something? You can't imagine how valuable that is. A while ago someone told me "a couple of us are talking about this on Discord, we love it and we keep repeating our favorite lines". I thanked them, but I was too polite to say, "really? What are they saying? Which are your favorite lines? How many people are there who love it? What are their names? Which lines are the favorite ones, please, tell me!". Part of me still regrets that, because I so desperately want to know! I don't think it was a public Discord and I never heard from the others on it, but just the idea that they're out there and they like my story was so powerful. (By the way, it's not on any account that's linked from here, please don't try to find that comment.)

Now, I firmly believe that you, as a reader, don't have to care about any of that. I know there are people who disagree with me on this point, very strongly in fact, but I don't think it's necessarily your job to care. It's great if you do, and I think a lot of you do in fact care, that's why I'm writing this. But if you haven't thought about that or don't feel comfortable leaving comments or whatever, that's fine, that's normal, and you are in fact part of the majority. Any well-adjusted fic author has found ways to deal with this. They have learned to love writing for its own sake, or they love re-reading their own fics, or they have a couple of trusted friends who like their work, or ideally all three. Personally I was scared of Discord for the longest time, but it really helps with that. One person who you sort of know going "hey that's neat" can outweigh just about anything else. (Still, there will be days when you post something and you won't get a response and that just plain sucks, no two ways about it.)

But if you do care, if you think it's important that a fanfic writer knows what they mean to you, not because of any concern about the wider unpaid fan creator economy but just because of the way their work affected you, then this is important. Your favorite fanfic writer probably doesn't know and/or believe that they're anyone's favorite, and even if they do, a reminder or learning that someone knew found them will make them incredibly happy. And obviously, all of that applies at least just as much to all the beginners with potential that are out there. So if you're wondering whether it's worth it leaving a comment that says how much you enjoyed something: It probably is. And if you shared this with others and they loved it, or if this is your favourite fic, or if you enjoy how original it is, or how well it does your favourite tropes, or anything like that, the writer is going to be so happy to hear that.

A final aside: This obviously applies even more when it's about fandoms, pairings, subject matter and in particular ratings that are considered a bit embarrassing. Writers who write stuff that, say, happens to be E-rated for whatever reason, doesn't matter, will probably get fewer kudos and comments just because people are embarrassed to have their names show up in the Kudos and Comment sections. If that's you, just a note that it is perfectly okay to comment anonymously, or to create a second separate account for leaving kudos on, commenting on and maybe even posting the somewhat more risqué stuff. Now I'm not saying I have one of these second accounts, at least I'm not saying that in public, but it is an option worth considering.

#fanfic #comments

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stedefxckingbonnet · 11 months

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If you're doing izzy x reader requests I'd love to see something along the lines of reader killing someone for the first time either to keep Izzy safe or because someone threatened to kill him. With izzy just being shocked/honored that someone would do that for him and it makes him a little bit starry-eyed. Obviously if you're not vibing with this feel free to just use parts or ignore it all together 🖤 thanks for keeping the izzy x reader fics alive

Firstly, thank you so much for that last sentence—words like those motivate me so much more, and bring me so much joy! Thank you to all of you who have welcomed me with open arms, as I sorta feel like I arrived here out of nowhere!! I hope this one does your request justice; how could I ignore it, it's absolutely amazing! Enjoy the rest of your day or night, lovely stranger, and I hope you enjoy this as well! it brought me joy to write and I hope it brings you even more joy to read ♡

P.S. More longer fics coming soon, I promise! I'm still just dipping my toes back in to writing these, and I hope the lengths have been okay thus far! I may even revisit some of these first ones I'm writing down the line and elaborate upon them, if that's something you'd all be interested in.

Eternity | Izzy Hands x Reader

Warnings: death (not of a major character or reader!), mentions of blood, mentions of choking, brief violence beginning and escalating quickly, some language, kissing

Word count: 2755

There was one thing you absolutely dreaded that just seemed to come with the price of being a pirate, almost like a rite of passage—murder. You were lucky enough to have crew mates beside you with the exact opposite opinion to do your biddings for you because, let's face it, even if you didn't want the blood directly upon your hands, there were still people you thought deserved to die, for the safety of yourself and the crew. But the thought of seeing the life escape a person at your own discretion was a thought that absolutely haunted you. Even while sailing with Blackbeard on the Queen Anne you had managed to avoid such a situation. Still, you had always promised yourself that if it were absolutely necessary, you wouldn't hold it against yourself too much. You sighed at that thought, your face slumping into the palm of your hand as you finished your breakfast. Certain mornings, you preferred to rise earlier in order to avoid eating with the crew as much as you absolutely loved them, and Roach understood this, thankfully. Every night before you retreated to your quarters after Stede wove his bedtime tales, he would always discreetly pull you aside and ask whether you would be joining them in the morning and he was always prepared for either response, setting your meal at your usual spot at the table. This had been going on for quite awhile, and you always worried the crew would find out and then take it personally. But, no one ever had.

Though, you were confused as to why there was a second meal beside yours. You tried to eat as quickly as you possibly could in order to avoid whoever it was that might be joining you but of course, you were a smidge too late. Luckily for you, it was none other than Izzy Hands—for others, this would be an unlucky thing, but not for you. Never for you. You almost allowed yourself to smile at his appearance.

"What are you doing awake at this hour?"

"I could ask you the same thing," you shrugged as he sat beside you.

"Just haven't been liking starting my day with twats," he shrugged back, which earned a laugh from you.

"Am I included in that lot?" You couldn't help but tease him. He always acted annoyed when you did, but you saw right through his act.

"Fuck off," Izzy laughed quietly.

"Aww, I don't get the special treatment?"

"Why should you?" Anyone else would have thought Izzy was pissed off, but you knew better than that. He knew he was teasing you back, or at least, you hoped so. But you knew for a fact he wasn't really annoyed with you.

"Well, we go way back—don't we, Israel?"

Izzy chuckled. It seemed half-hearted, but you knew it was actually genuine, which warmed your heart that you could bring such sweet melodies out of him. "I suppose we do, yes."

"And I do all my chores before you even ask me to, and I get them done fast and still do a good job," you added, only sort of faux smugly.

"You want a sticker for that?" Izzy retorted.

"Wouldn't mind it," you laughed, sighing of relief as you did so. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw a smile almost spread across Izzy's usually stone-cold visage, like one of a marble statue. You couldn't help but smile yourself. "Sorry if I kind of rained on your desirably lonesome parade this morning."

"You didn't," Izzy replied nonchalantly, but you knew this was his way of saying he enjoyed your company. You knew him long enough to know that. "I'm glad it's you and not Stede fucking Bonnet."

You chuckled, your eyes rolling in addition. "Yeah. Could've been a lot worse. But, a word of advice—if you don't want to be stampeded by a starving group of "twats", we'd better get going in the next minute or so."

Izzy's eyes widened and he quickly downed the rest of his meal before disposing properly of whatever leftovers you both had. You protested for a moment, claiming you could toss your own remains away, but he insisted, only on behalf that it would make escaping a lot quicker. Once again you saw right through this. You had always found Izzy's funny ways of showing you that he cared about you endearing. You wouldn't trade any of it for the world, as ecstatic as you would be to really hear or see him express appreciation for you. You giggled as the two of you rushed out onto the deck—the sun had just risen, painting the sky a sort of orange and pink hue and birds could be heard singing from a distance, if you listened hard enough. It was breathtaking. it made waking up this early in the morning worthwhile. You looked over at Izzy, who seemed to be somewhat taken by such a sight, until his lips curled into an intentional frown.

"Izzy?" you asked, trying to snap him out of his thoughts. "What is it?"

"Oh," Izzy laughed breathlessly. "Nothing. Don't worry about it."

You didn't buy that for a second, but you also knew it wasn't worth your time or energy to press him. You knew how stubborn Izzy could be, and how because of this, he never wanted anyone else's help in any capacity. But he was more pensive than usual; something seemed to be plaguing him, and it plagued you knowing you would most likely never know what it could have been. Without another word, Izzy was out of your sight before you even noticed he left your side. You sighed, almost slumping against the railing. Cheering could be heard from the dining room, but you knew you would catch wind of whatever the excitement was in just moments. Before you could wonder any further, Olu and Black Pete rushed onto the deck to announce the day would be spent on land. You smiled to yourself, thinking perhaps you could get Izzy to join you on an endeavor or two. You rushed over to him with a hopeful glint in your eyes.

"Did you hear? We get a day off!"

"Oh, joy," Izzy mumbled sarcastically. "I should stay behind, watch the ship. Someone has to do it."

"But you did that last time," you pouted. "Come on, Iz. It could be—

"—What? Fun? I doubt it."

You sighed for what felt like a millionth time. You were almost out of breath, but you weren't going to give up this easily. If only you could show Izzy that the world held more wonders to behold, despite all that he had claimed to already have seen in all his years. Or maybe, just maybe, if he saw how much it would mean to you.

"Today is too beautiful a day to waste," you claimed, hoping so much that he would take the hint.

Izzy paused to ponder it. He craned his neck over to meet your eyes. "I suppose I could spare an hour or two."

You almost jumped for joy right there and then, but you only nodded in his line of sight, then allowing for a grin to dominate your expression as you walked away, ready to get off of the ship. Izzy followed behind, and the crew knew better than to follow just yet. Once the two of you stepped onto the dock, then everyone followed suit.

"Don't tell me we're going into some trashy tavern," Izzy grumbled quietly. This sort of surprised you—all these years, did Izzy fake enjoying all of the drinks he would get for himself, talking with others for hours at these establishments? You didn't necessarily adore it either, but Izzy never complained about it.

"I was thinking the pawnshop first, if that's alright with you?" you proposed. "I have a few things I want to get off my hands but don't want in the hands of just anyone."

"Better than what everyone else has going on," he shrugged. You led the way, seeming to know this place like the back of your hand even though to Izzy's knowledge, you had never been here before. But, what did he know of your life before the Queen Anne? He wished he knew more, but he didn't even know where to begin. Flat out asking you didn't seem like it was on the table, as happy as you would be to reveal anything he asked of you, and even happier to hear of his own life that existed prior. Without another thought of this, you led Izzy down a few winding paths until finally, you reached your first stop, not knowing it would actually be the last for the day. You rushed up to the door to hold it open for Izzy, a grin making its way onto your face once again, unknowingly.

"What do ya know, chivalry isn't dead," Izzy muttered but you saw the corners of his mouth rise. With this, you followed behind him, making sure to gently shut the door behind you. You reached into your pocket, revealing a small red velvet sachet. You waltzed right over to the oak countertop, revealing a few shining silver and gold rings and chains, the same smile still existing upon you.

"I can offer you quite a bit for these," the shopkeeper started. "But something your friend over there has interests me far more."

He pointed at Izzy's neck, which only made him self consciously clutch his cravat.

"I'm only offering you what's in front of you," you told the shopkeeper.

"And he isn't right in front of me?" he retaliated.

"You're saying you don't want any of this?"

"No," he sounded as if he were about to snap. "I want all this, and your friend's necktie."

"Well, you aren't getting it, I'm sorry," you spoke sincerely. "But I am happy to offer you any and all of this."

Before you knew it, the shop owner barged out from behind the countertop and planted himself right in front of Izzy's face. He began to undo Izzy's cravat himself while Izzy tried to swat him away, but you weren't going to allow this to happen. You made your way over and tried to pry him off of Izzy, to which you were slapped for trying to do so. You clutched your cheek, almost shouting in pain. Izzy and the owner's struggle was beginning to grow more violent and much more personal than it should have been, and you had never felt more helpless in your entire life. The shop owner had Izzy on the ground and began to choke him, and before you could think it through, you were on the floor, viciously grabbing this stranger by the collar, turning him to face you. You already had your dagger in your other hand and stabbed him right in the heart, wincing as you did so, as the blood spilled out onto his white shirt, and bits of it splattered across your own face. As soon as you were sure he was a goner, you released his body onto the ground. Your dagger slipped out of your hands as you rushed over to your Izzy to help him up. He wasn't ready to stand, you quickly realized, so you sat beside him and rubbed his back as he coughed and tried to regain oxygen.

"You're okay," you cooed, attempting to soothe the man before you. He couldn't muster a word, but he immediately locked eyes with you and his breath seemed to return to him. "You're okay," you repeated for the sake of no one but yourself this time, tears welling in your eyes and streaming down your cheeks.

Izzy looked at you with such a disbelief written all over his face. You, who used to shrivel into yourself at the mere mention of blood. You, who declared to never take someone's life unless absolutely necessary—oh yes, he recalled such a proclamation, loud and clear in the early days of the Queen Anne, and he remembered thinking it absolutely ridiculous. He remembered thinking you wouldn't survive a day bearing that mindset. Yet, you still persisted, and sailed the seas beside him for what felt like an eternity. Normally, Izzy would describe an eternity in such a way that it felt dreary and undesirable, but with you, an eternity was nowhere near enough. If he could, he would spend multiple eternities with you and it still wouldn't be enough. He looked at you as if you were the only other person in the world. Sometimes, he wished you were. Sometimes, he wished it could just be the two of you. Death had never been this close to meeting him, but now that it had, his mortality felt far too real, and his feelings towards you felt far too hidden. Even before this moment, every time the two of you were in close proximity to one another, his heart felt heavy with all of the tenderness he held onto for you, barely being able to contain it and his heart being warm almost felt concerning to him if it hadn't been such a pleasant experience. And it was a bit concerning to him that it felt nice. Especially in this moment, he knew he couldn't conceal himself much longer, not after you had been so willing to sacrifice someone else's life for his. He was honored that you went against your own word for him, of all people.

"Izzy, are you alri—"

Before you could finish your question, and perhaps say anything else in addition, Izzy's lips were on yours. He tried to wipe the blood off of you with his gloved hand the best he could as you kissed him back with such fervor, such longing. You had wanted this for what felt like an eternity. This was what you thought of every time Izzy walked into a room, and even anytime he wasn't close by. There were some moments you couldn't even be around him in fear that you would embarrass yourself and accidentally pour out your heart to him. You never thought this would be happening, you never thought Izzy would even fathom half of what you possibly felt for him, nor even feel any of the same ways. But with all the discreetly exchanged glances, the "accidental" brushes against one another, the excessive lingering while you did your tasks some days, the following your lead whenever you had those scarce days on land, even finding out from Roach the night before that you would be eating your breakfast alone the following morning, there was simply no way Izzy didn't return your sentiments, even if he wasn't quick to show it. Eventually, Izzy had to disconnect his lips from yours, almost gasping for air again. A giggle escaped your lips as he gently tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear, and he showed a smile that you had never before seen. You could have sworn your heart somehow gained a mind of its own and began doing backflips—how did it learn to do such a trick?

"I can't believe you did that for me," Izzy beamed, reminiscent of some sort of beacon or lighthouse.

You smiled sheepishly. "Are you mad?"

"The opposite, actually. I know your feelings about killing, and yet—"

"—It was worth it," you assured him, tracing patterns along the small of his back. "You are worth it."

Without another word as you both stood up, your fingers intertwined with his, the ungloved hand, and you slowly made your way back to the ship together, knowing no one else would be there to entice you into any antics. For a moment, it could and it would feel like you and your Izzy were the only two people in the world. You knew this moment wouldn't last forever, but it would already be one to cherish for the rest of eternity, and you hoped that now, you and Izzy could spend the rest of whatever that looked like together, thought it felt like you already have been. Only now, you could look over at him like he was your world, because he is, and not worry about what he would think. Now, he could hold you close to him and whisper everything he's dreamed of ever sharing with you since knowing you. Now, the two of you could truly share your love for one another beyond the end of time.

#our flag means death #ofmd #ofmd season 2 #izzy hands x reader #izzy hands #israel hands #ofmd izzy #ofmd izzy hands #ofmd season one #x reader #fluff #izzy hands my beloved #requests open #i just love my pirates so much #first request yay!

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maralarsen · 6 months

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He is my misfortune 🎀

~Lorenzo Berkshire x reader~

WARNING: cursing

°Nepriateľ milovníkov°

Fluff

Summary : You unhappily end up tutoring a boy who brings you more misery than life itself

• |Reader is in Hufflepuff

• | I plan to make another part/parts. But I don't know if you will like this part, so I'll see 🎀

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

Lorenzo Berkshire. A lot of people think of this name as a smiling face of a boy who is always positive, laughing and sometimes even kind. The only thing that comes to mind with this name is disaster. Everywhere he goes something always goes wrong. Either I'm unlucky with him or I really don't know anymore.

For example, my Hufflepuff friends and I were in Hogsmeade. It was cold, so we went to the Three Broomsticks to warm up like every student at Hogwarts. A pleasant atmosphere prevailed there, at least I felt pleasant until I saw his face. At that moment, I sighed and realized that another problem was on the way.

We sat down at the table next to his. And why ? The reason was clear. Berkshire wasn't sitting there alone, he was there with his crew. For my friends, it was literally a feast for their eyes. I don't understand what they like about guys who just drink, smoke and change girls like socks.

That's not my type at all. I'd rather have some nice boy who likes to cuddle, go on cute dates, buy me flowers and..."What the f*ck?!" I was snapped out of my reverie about a boy who might not even exist by the boy who was the most annoying to me. nerves. "Sh*t Berkshire watch out! Great, I'm all wet now," oh of course who else but Berkshire could have tripped over his own feet and spilled butterbeer on me. "I'm sorry, I really didn't mean to, this really wasn't on purpose," Berkshire apologized with a smile on his face.

I heard how his friends started laughing in the back, especially Malfoy, another icon of the school. I wanted to cry. I don't understand why he always has to do this to me. "I said sorry, don't be so relational, it's just beer, it will dry out," I looked at him in disbelief.

"Yes, it will dry out. But it's your fault that it's wet!" I stood up and left the room. Why does he always have to do this to me? Fool. I got on the first carriage I saw and went back to the castle.

This happened about a month ago, I'm currently sitting in the library completing an assignment on herbology. I really don't enjoy this subject, but somehow I still manage it. Unlike Berkshire. Whatever he is, I feel sorry for him. He's been sitting here in the library since lunch, and I can see he's still doing the same thing, with a herbology book spread out in front of him.

During that time, I managed to make elixirs, astrology and now also herbology. Maybe I would help him, but that's what he needs. Unfortunately, the butter beer cannot be washed off. He's lucky he covered my old sweatshirt and not a new one.

Curfew is in a moment. I pack my things in my bag and I look at Berkshire, but he is already looking at me. Why is he looking at me? Better do your homework, moron. I smirk, take my bag and leave the library.

The next day I enter the greenhouses, as I expected, I had a good homework and so did the others except Berkshire. "Mr. Berkshire, I don't want to worry you, but you're failing Herbology," Mrs. Sprout said sternly. Berkshire didn't say anything, just stared blankly at the ground. "Are you going to do anything about it, Mr. Berkshire?" the teacher asked him. "

Well...I...I don't know..." Mrs. Spraut just sighed and announced: "Mr. Berkshire, I suggest that someone tutor you. He will tutor you for 3 weeks, 2 times a week. And I already know who ." She suddenly turned her gaze to me. Wait. NOT. He probably can't be serious. After all, one more moment in the same room with him, and that boy will set my hair on fire with his happiness.

"M...Mind..Mind me?" I stammered back to her. "Huh? Do you have a problem with that Mrs. (y/l/n)???" "Um, no?" I replied, more of a question than an answer, "excellent! You can leave at the end of class!"

What on earth did she dip it in, and why me? I ran out of the greenhouses into the corridor to make it to the next class. "Hey! Wait!" "oh god what do you want?" I turned to face Berkshire. "Wouldn't you like to go...ah!" I reached for his shirt and pulled him to the side "You were standing in way, Lorenzo," "Oh, thank you." So wouldn't you like to go for a beer with me? We could..." "No! There's no way I'm going anywhere with you anymore. The last time you had a beer in your hand, it ended on me. So no!" I said even before he could finish the sentence and I turned to leave "Jesus, you're terrible," he said with a laugh in his voice "but I still don't like you!" I said and went into the corridor.

As I expected, it happened. He chased me. "Why are you following me like a lost puppy?" "I was waiting for you to calm down," I looked at him in disbelief. "You're kidding, aren't you?!" "When was I kidding," he replied with a grin. I swear if that boy was closer I would slap him. "Oh well, well. So what do you want so urgently that you're chasing me," "I just wanted to ask about the date of the first meeting," he said quietly. "Why didn't you ask right away?"

"Because you didn't let me talk you into it?! Did you!?" that bastard... "When is convenient for you?" I asked him with a sigh. "Whenever you want, I can do it any time," "Then Wednesdays and Fridays. I want to have peace from you during the weekend," "Mrs. (y/l/n)'s order!" he turned and left. Oh god it's going to be a month.

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

• | This is my second story so I apologize for any mistakes + English is not my first language ✨

#slytherin boys #harry potter x reader #lorenzo berkshire x reader #lorenzo berkshire #lorenzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire #enzo x reader #enzo berkshire x reader #enzo berkshire x you #enzo berkshire fluff #fluff #enemy to lovers #tutor #english is not my first language #hp fandom #harry potter fanfiction #harry potter fandom

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lazycats-stuff · 1 year

Note

Can u make a part two to the werewolf fic u made it was soo good ! and i would like to see where it leads :)

If it's the COD werewolf, sure thing. Also, here is my favorite Scot. Is it just me or is a Scottish accent just so... Well, it's my favorite. PART 1

Summary: (Y/N) deals with the fact that he is a werewolf.

Warnings: missions, violence, death and all the stuff that goes with the COD, human experiments

It has been a couple of weeks since (Y/N) turned into a werewolf. He still wasn't used to his senses and he is strength, but he was working on it. The team was very supportive of him and tried to help him in their own ways.

He still wasn't cleared to go on any missions, but he didn't mind it. It was nice to have some down time for himself. He spent time resting, working on little things and on the weekends he would go off the base.

It was a nice change of pace. The team still went on missions and it was to be alone, but he did miss them. They talked over the phone a few times, but those were brief conversations.

He always wanted to have everyone together. That was one of the things that worried him when he started feeling that. It wasn't something he thought about before. It was nice to have the team together, but it wasn't this strong.

(Y/N) thought it was his wolf side. Either way, he liked it when the team was here on base. Ghost was his favorite. There were times when he just had to change into a werewolf and Ghost had a bed big enough for the both of them.

Soap was a little bit afraid due to his fear of the dogs, but he liked (Y/N). The werewolf knew that and he respected Soap's boundaries. If he was in his werewolf form, he was far away from Soap. But Soap was slowly getting over his fear.

Gaz was the one who liked the wolf form the most. Gaz is a dog lover and if they had the time, in secrecy of course, he would play with (Y/N). Fetch, running, whatever came to mind.

Price and Ghost are like those dads that are like, he is not allowed on the couch, but they end up on the couch anyway. And he kind of became a therapy dog for Ghost. More so, he became a therapy dog for the entire team.

All in all, it was nice.

(Y/N) was buzzing excitement. He was finally clear to go on missions! He was just so excited! He hugged Price when he gave him the news. Price just patted him awkwardly on the back. The team celebrated with some alcohol.

" We missed you. " Gaz said as they were in the bar.

" I know you did! You missed my sarcasm! Admit it! " (Y/N) said, turning to look at the others. Ghost didn't react and the others just sighed.

" I swear to God, I will bench you (L/N). " Price said, taking a sip of his whiskey.

" You won't. You missed me a lot. " (Y/N) said, laughing at the sigh he got in return.

" Well, we have some news. You know that target, in Al Mazrah? " Price started, watching (Y/N)'s reaction. (Y/N) nodded, it was a terrorist cell that they destroyed.

" Well, they are back at it. And the last target? They had connections with him and we think that they are doing some sort of experiments on people. And they might have been responsible to that wolf that bit you. "

(Y/N)'s funny and happy demeanor turned sour. He looked down at his drink and frowned.

" So, we have a location, but it isn't confirmed just yet. We have to waiting another day to get it, but we believe that this is it. I still don't get why they are still alive... Bastards. " Price said, cursing to himself.

" Tomorrow we will get the location and you can go with us. " Price said, making (Y/N) nod. So the wolf that bit him was probably an experiment.

" You alright? " Ghost asked in his gruff voice.

" Not really. I'm thinking about that wolf that bit me. He was probably an experiment too. " (Y/N) said, gripping his forearms tightly. He tried not to think about the fact that he was lucky.

Price just patted his back in solidary and comfort. John also thought about it, just how lucky (Y/N) was. Or unlucky depending on your point of view.

" Well, we are going to shut them down, once and for all. " Johnny said, clearly trying to bring more positive environment to this booth.

" I wish I had you enthusiasm Johnny. I really do. " (Y/N) said thoughtfully, taking a last sip of his whiskey.

Silence fell down across the booth. It was obvious that (Y/N) was shaken by the fact that there were human experiments. Maybe that wolf that bit him was free now.

" Well, lets go back to the base. We need to make sure we are rested." Price said, trying to lift the mood up.

It was too late.

(Y/N) and the others waiting to get land. All of them geared up, armed to the tooth. (Y/N) wasn't sure how to feel about this. On one hand, they need to be stopped. But at the same time, what are they going to find?

Will he have to shift and kill someone as a wolf? He looked down at his lap for a moment, clenching his fists. It was going to be fine. The team was here and they were going to help.

It was going to be fine.

The helicopter stopped and the team stepped out. Alaska was fricking cold and he just wanted to get warm. They had a plan and they were going to stick to it.

(Y/N) used his super senses to stop his team.

" I hear two of them in there. " (Y/N) whispered, listening more. " The lab is underground and one of them have the code to enter it. " (Y/N) said, cocking his rifle.

" We need them alive them. " Ghost said, getting ready to get in.

" Yup. " (Y/N) said, watching as Ghost kicked the door in.

Ghost was quick to take them down, but keep them alive.

" I need a code for the lab underground. And I will leave your hands hands attached to your bodies. " Ghost said, grabbing the arms of the guards. After some more pressure, they gave it up.

(Y/N) punched it in and he when he entered, he nearly threw up. He watched people under the sedation and there were people who were mutated, but not fully... They looked like they were mistakes.

(Y/N) couldn't go on.

" (L/N), what is going on? " Price asked, worried about his youngest member.

" I can't go on. I feel sick. " (Y/N) said, moving back to lean on the wall.

" I will call Laswell to clean this up. " Price said, patting (Y/N)'s shoulder.

(Y/N) nodded. He will really kill them.

" Now we have evidence to put them behind bars... We should have killed them off. " Soap growled, watching the people. Ghost and Gaz checked out the rest of the lab. It was all clear.

" Is he okay? " Gaz asked.

" I'm fine Gaz. I'm just... I don't know. It's weird to see all of this. " (Y/N) said.

" I know. We are going to help them out. " Gaz said, patting (Y/N)'s shoulder.

(Y/N) knows that. But maybe death is better thing for them. (Y/N) shook his head. No, that's not a great mindset to have. They will help them.

#john price x male reader #johnny soap mactavish x male reader #ghost x male reader #simon riley x male reader #gaz x male reader #modern warefare 2 x male reader #modern warefare ii

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aliceismypixie · 1 year

Text

The villain of my story ∥ The woods aren't for games

Summary - "The villain will always be the villain if the hero tells the story" or atleast that's what they say. No one knew why you became what you are. But you wanted your revenge on Isabella Marie Swan and you were ready to do anything to have it.

Pairing - Twilight x villain!reader

Pronoun - she/her (but can be read as a male reader or gn reader)

Warning - kidnapping

Words count - 1.17k~

Set - After Breaking-Dawn Part 2

Chapter 1 - Masterlist

Lucky them, vampires didn't need to sleep. Unlucky them, vampires couldn't sleep.

For the past two weeks, everyone just wanted to drown themselves in a peaceful slumber only to wake up and realize that the threat was only a bad dream and they were actually okay. Jacob, Seth and Leah had the luxury to sleep but once they would wake up, the hard reality would catch up on them and they were forced to watch over their friend.

Yes once again, there was a protection details for Bella once again. And everyone was either tired or annoyed about it. Leah and Rosalie were annoyed about the protection detail, sure they were somewhat 'friends' with Bella, but honestly Leah was there because she didn't have any other choice and Rosalie was more attached to Renesmee than Bella. The rest were tired. Everyone did try to hide it but it was pretty obvious. This family couldn't get a break. At Least not until the threat was gone.

"So you can't see anything ?" Leah asked with a scoff and Jasper tightened his hold against his wife.

"I've tried okay ? But all I see is a blank space. I can't see them or whatever their plan is. I've tried !" Alice argued back as the family was once again reunited in the living room.

"But we can't just have a protection detail, right ?" Seth innocently asked from his seat beside Esme, who sent him a motherly smile.

"No, we need to add a protection force. We can ask Sam's pack for help." Edward butted in and if Rosalie wasn't outside playing with Resentment Renesmee and Jacob, she would have rolled her eyes.

Of course Edward was only thinking about Bella's safety. But could you blame him ? She was his wife and he loved her more than anything. And as selfish as it sounds, the mind reader was ready to put anyone's life on line if it was to ensure Bella's well being and safety. He did it when the two nomads vampires hunted them, he did it when he forced everyone to leave Forks only to left them once they were out of the city, he did it when the newborn army was against Bella and he did it when the Volturi threatened to kill his family. And by his family, I was only talking about Renesmee and Bella.

But could you really blame him ? It was admirable ! A man boy, willing to risk's all his loved one's life for his true love ! Please take in consideration that Bella was only his singer and not his mate. See that ? He was so deeply in love with the main character that he was willing to do anything for her.

But anyways, Edward Anthony Masen-Cullen was only the main lead of the love triangle for the main character so let's not go deeper into the subject yeah ?

Bella felt like she was a burden. I mean she was but the main character is never a burden. But it wasn't her fault if people were revengeful ! All she ever wanted was to live a happy immortal after-life with her vampire god-like husband, her hybrid super rare child and her husband's super rich family. She was the victim here.

As I was saying, Bella felt like she was a burden and all she wanted was for everything to stop and go back to the way it used to be. Obviously not what it used to be before she met the Cullens, but like, you see the past year that passed without the Volturi or a rogue vampire wanting to kill her was actually nice.

"I'm so sorry guys. I really don't know who it could be…" Bella muttered.

"They're alone against all of us anyways." Emmett smirked, clearly thrilled by the feeling of being in a dangerous situation.

"Emmett, this is a serious matter." Edward scolded with a glare and his brother rose his hand in surrender.

"And I was serious too, relax dude." The buff vampire replied yet the tension in the room stayed so thick that you could cut it with a knife and Jasper's power was almost useless.

"We need to be ready for any eventuality." Carlisle announced and everyone agreed, feeling a strange and uneasy shiver run down their spines.

Rosalie, Jacob and Renesmee were all hanging out in the forest. The Cullen's territory was safe for now and if they felt any threat, they needed to go back home immediately, not that Renesmee would know anyways. Right now they were simply enjoying the fresh air outside of the suffocating windows of the Cullen's three story house and talking. Well, Rosalie and Jacob weren't really talking to each other you know, mostly talking to their favorite child.

"Aunt Rosalie, do you think that we'll catch them ?" Renesmee asked and the blond vampire sent her a comforting smile.

"Of course we will. They will not hurt any of us, don't worry." The Goddess-like vampire replied and Jacob rubbed his fluffy head against Renesmee's side, agreeing with Rosalie for once.

"Well then, you'll have to catch me !" Renesmee started to run away and the two grown up exchanged a look before running after her.

They were unlucky though, Renesmee inherited her father's speed. I would say the little girl was lucky to have inherited her father's speed, but when an immortal child was after you and equally as fast as you while your family was too far away to protect you, I wouldn't exactly say I was lucky.

Smelling the unfamiliar scent of lavender and wet-grass around them, Jacob and Rosalie immediately tried to go faster while Jacob howled, alerting the members of his pack. The two adults chased after Renesmee, missing the shadow passing them through the trees as they couldn't even see the hybrid in front of them.

"Renesmee slow down !" Rosalie called in panic.

Hearing her aunt's worried tone, Renesmee turned around swiftly, but what she didn't expect was to see a hooded figure only a few inches away from her with their red eyes glowing.

"I would stay quiet if I were you." The voice was childish yet there was some kind of venom and dangerous aura in them that made Renesmee stunned in fear.

Not far away from them, echoed the call of Rosalie, soon followed by the rest of the Cullens while the shifters were all in their wolf form causing the hooded figure to smirk before putting a hand on Renesmee's mouth.

"Let's go dear." They muttered and suddenly the clearing was empty, as if they never were there in the first place.

Reaching the clearing, everyone's expression fell as they found it empty. The only thing they could find was a letter gently laid on the ground and Bella took, her hands trembling at the thought of what probably happened and her heart fell, as well as everyone else's, as she rode the words of the letter out loud.

"'I told you to keep an eye open Bells. The woods aren't for games'."

Chapter 3

#twilight x reader #villain!reader #child!reader #alice cullen #jasper hale #resume cullen #emmett cullen #rosalie hale #carlisle cullen #esme cullen #edward cullen #bella swan #jacob black #leah clearwater #seth clearwater #twilight imagine

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penmansparadise · 1 year

Text

Eddie Munson ~ The Yuletide Bluff

*I DON'T OWN THIS GIF* *CREDIT TO GIF OWNER*

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Fem!Reader

Word Count: 3.3k

Warnings: Mild language

a/n: Well, it has definitely been a while since I've written anything. I really hope you all enjoy this, and I'm sure you will notice that I gave myself some room to either write another part or leave it where it ended. Let me know what you all think!

Sunday evenings used to be your favorite thing in the world. You loved having your family gather for dinner at your house. Your mom and aunts would be busy in the kitchen, hands at work creating a delicious meal while your uncles and dad sat in the living room watching ESPN, beers in hand. Your baby cousins would be running around squealing as they played, and your older cousins would just sit and watch before being elicited to help in the kitchen. It was totally and wonderfully normal and something you could never get enough of. That is until you started your senior year of high school.

It wasn’t bad in the beginning. Your mom and aunts would ask if you had a crush on anyone here and there, and that would be it. But the farther into your senior year you got, those innocent questions turned into badgering from every female member of your family.

“You’re graduating soon,” your aunt would say, giving you a pitiful look. “Don’t you want to begin adulthood with that special someone?”

“Your cousin Adriana has had a boyfriend since sophomore year, you know?” Another Aunt would say as if it were some sort of backhanded comment.

It was now the first week of December, nearly halfway through your senior year, and they hadn’t let up. So, when the hordes of your family began to file into your house while you were perched on one of the bar stools in your kitchen, you couldn’t help the way your molars ground down. You gave everyone a halfhearted smile and kiss on the cheek as they made their way to their usual places.

For the first hour or so, no one bothered you. You were able to comfortably sit at the bar, listening to the radio lull over the conversation filling the kitchen. It wasn’t until your cousin plopped into the seat next to yours that your bubble of solitude popped.

“Hey, Y/N,” she said, her lips curling upward into a devious grin.

You gave a tight-lipped smile.

“Adriana.”

She toyed with one of the bangles on her wrist and crossed her legs. You knew what was coming before her eyes landed back on yours.

“My mom tells me you’re still unlucky in love.”

God, you wanted to smack the smug look right off her face. But you didn’t. Instead, you fisted your hands in your lap and hummed.

“Has she now?”

Adriana sighed, “Yeah, we’re all worried about you, hon. I mean, I know not everyone can get as lucky as Carlo and me, but still.”

You knew all too well how “lucky” your cousin and her longtime boyfriend were. They had a chance meeting in the library in the 10th grade, and the rest was history. Now, you had to watch her and Carlo walk around Hawkins High like they were a teenage version of Tommy Lee and Heather Locklear.

Adriana placed a hand on your knee and gave a pout.

“I just feel terrible watching you all by yourself all the time,” she said, giving your knee a little squeeze.

Typically, you contained your emotions when faced with adversity. Usually, the constant harassment from your family about still being single didn’t get under your skin. You could brush it off. But when Adriana poked her bottom lip out in an overdramatic pout and said, “And with Christmas just around the corner, I can’t even imagine how lonely you must feel right now,” you snapped.

Your fists balled in your lap, and before you could even think of the ramifications, you blurted out, “I’m not alone. I have a boyfriend.”

It was as if a record scratched at your statement. The hustle and bustle of the house came to a screeching halt, and all eyes fell on you. The weight of your words landed on you, but it was too late. Your mom and aunts had already started swarming you, smiles spread across their faces. Their rapid-fire questions flooded your head, but you could only focus on one person: Adriana. Her brows furrowed, and her eyes narrowed as she slowly removed her hand from your leg and crossed her arms.

“Who is it?” She asked, not even trying to cover her skepticism.

Your heart was racing as you began to babble.

“Oh, um, I don’t think that’s really important.”

“I think it is,” Adriana began looking at the other women in the room. “Don’t you?”

They all agreed in unison before silencing and waiting for you to speak. You coughed.

“You probably don’t even know him, so…”

Adriana ran her tongue over the front of her teeth and began tapping her fingers against her arm.

“I don’t think that’s possible.”

You swallowed. The thought of confessing crossed your mind. You could tell everyone you were just joking, and they would just laugh and not think you were completely pathetic. But you knew that wouldn’t be the case. You dropped your gaze to your lap and sighed, seconds away from admitting defeat, when your eyes landed on the shirt you had forgotten you were wearing. The crimson red of the horned devil sitting stark against the white fabric covering your body and the telltale die of your favorite game floating next to it. You raised your eyes to meet Adriana’s again, mustered as much fake confidence as possible, put on your most believable smile, and said, “Eddie.”

His name came out more like a prayer than a statement. Your mom and aunts began cooing in your ear again, but Adriana reared back slightly, and her lips curled up into a grimace.

“Eddie?” She asked. “Like Eddie Munson? That kid you play that stupid board game with?”

The insult slapped you in the face, and you ground your teeth together again.

“First of all,” you said through gritted teeth, “DnD is not a stupid board game. Secondly, yes, that Eddie Munson.”

The squeals of excitement from behind Adriana filled the room, but you ignored them. You could tell that Adriana didn’t believe you, which didn’t surprise you. You barely knew Eddie. He had only recently taken you into Hellfire after you heard they needed a stand-in for Lucas one night and offered to do it. The two of you never hung out aside from Hellfire and lunch. You didn’t go out of your way to be around him; the same went for him. When you thought about it, you wouldn’t even really consider yourselves friends. If anything, you were acquaintances that barely said more than a few words to each other. Adriana had no reason to believe that you were dating Eddie, and she made it blatantly clear.

“How long has this been going on?” Adriana asked.

“Oh, you know,” you said, waving your hand around, “about a month or so.”

The joy that spread across your mom’s face was unmistakable, and the guilt of what you created began to claw at your stomach.

“Why haven’t you brought him home yet?” Your mom asked, taking your hands into hers.

You stared into her excited eyes and, without even a second thought, said, “I was planning on bringing him home for Christmas dinner.”

Everyone in the kitchen burst into joyous cheers. You gave them a weak smile, but all you could think was that you were going to need a bigger shovel to help dig the hole you were putting yourself into. You feigned excitement for the rest of the evening, barely getting through dinner without vomiting from the guilt and nerves wrestling in your gut. When everyone finally left, you showed yourself to your room and plopped down onto your bed, only beginning to process the shit show you just created.

The next day, you felt like you had cinder blocks tied to your ankles. You had barely been able to sleep the night before as the thought of what you said bounced around in your brain. All night you tried to think of a way to get around the situation you created, but you came up with nothing. By the time the sun started rising, it was very clear what needed to be done. You had to convince Eddie to go along with your plan.

You couldn’t focus on any of your classes as you stared at the clock, watching the seconds tick by, trying to muster up as much confidence as possible before you faced Eddie. You played a million scenarios in your head, and every one of them ended with him laughing in your face and you walking away with absolutely none of your dignity intact. The thought made you sick.

Each period passed by slower than the next until you were finally released for lunch when you reluctantly carried yourself through the halls toward the cafeteria. You knew what you had to do, and you were going to do it. You were going to ask Eddie to pretend to be your boyfriend, and it was going to be okay. At least that’s what you told yourself all the way up until you stood at the doors of the cafeteria. When you saw Eddie sitting at his usual lunch table with the rest of the Hellfire Club, all the courage you had vanished. In its place was a hollow void slowly filling with the dread of having to face the consequences of your reckless statements.

You stood in the entryway for another moment before carrying yourself to the table and sitting with the rest of the club. After giving a halfhearted wave to everyone, you retreated into your thoughts. Your mind was racing, and your stomach churned as you sat nibbling on your bottom lip. You had no idea what you were going to do. Maybe you could tell everyone Eddie wasn’t the one, and you broke up…after only one month…and so conveniently before the Christmas dinner, you said you would bring him to. You shook your head and let out a sigh just before a hand landed on your shoulder, pulling you back to reality. When you looked up and saw Eddie staring down at you, you almost choked.

“You okay?” He asked, his eyebrows furrowing just slightly.

Your mouth opened and shut a few times, but nothing came out. The cafeteria was almost empty, and the rest of the Hellfire boys had already left. You were so caught up in your panic-ridden thoughts you didn’t even hear the bell ring. When you looked back to Eddie, the concern that was etched on his face only deepened, and he shifted on his feet a little, his hand never leaving your shoulder. The warmth from his palm and coolness from the rings on his fingers seeped through your shirt as he waited patiently. Your breathing grew shallow as your anxiety swelled in your chest. Eddie’s soft brown eyes held your gaze until you finally swallowed and took a shaky breath.

“I need to talk to you,” you said, your voice tinny compared to your normal vibrato. “In private.”

Eddie’s troubled look never left his face as he removed his hand from your shoulder and used his head to motion toward the door.

“Come with me,” he said, and you didn’t waste any time, grabbing your bag and following him out the door.

When you said you needed to talk to Eddie in private, you were thinking maybe in your car or under the bleachers. What you didn’t expect was to trudge behind him as he made his way through the woods surrounding the football field. Your heart was racing, and it wasn’t only because you were unfamiliar with where Eddie was taking you. But before you had time to even dwell on your emotions, a beat-up wooden picnic table sitting by itself in the middle of a clearing came into view. It looked like something out of a horror movie. You couldn’t help but look around and make sure there wasn’t some sort of sacrificial altar Eddie was about to pin you to.

“Are you going to kill me out here?” The question fell from your lips before you could stop it.

Eddie chuckled as he made his way toward the table.

“Calm down, Y/N. I have more reason to be scared of you.”

The compliment landed somewhere in the center of your chest, but you felt it all over your body. Eddie took a seat and then motioned for you to do the same. Your cheeks felt like they were on fire as you slid onto the bench across from Eddie.

“So,” he began, folding his hands on the table, “what’s on your mind? What do you need to talk about?

Oh, don’t tell me,” his back stiffened a little, and his calm demeanor shifted. “Did that little shithead Henderson come onto you again? Because I don’t have any problem putting him in his place again.”

You reared back a little and shut your eyes, shaking your head.

“What? No, no. And trust me, if Henderson ever tried that shit again, I’d be able to handle it on my own.”

Eddie’s lips pulled upward on one side, revealing a crater of a dimple on his cheek.

“I don’t doubt that at all, Y/N.”

Your body buzzed under his stare as his words blanketed you in an electric current you were unfamiliar with. It was nice, and you found yourself wondering why this was the first time you had ever spoken to this boy alone. You shook your head.

“Anyway,” you said, swatting your thoughts away, “um, I actually have a favor to ask you.”

Eddie raised his eyebrows but didn’t say anything. You wrung your hands together in your lap, doing everything you could to avoid looking at Eddie directly. You felt like your insides were going to implode as sweat beaded on your forehead. This was a mistake. There was absolutely no way you were going to be able to do this. But when you finally brought your eyes to meet Eddie’s, that same worried look from before was planted on his face.

“Y/N, is everything okay?”

You gulped the bile that was steadily crawling up your throat and said, “I’ve gotten myself into a bit of a situation, and I need your help.”

His stare softened.

“What is it?”

You don’t know what made you say it. Maybe it was the way he looked at you like he would do anything for you; all you had to do was ask. Or the way he gave you his full and undivided attention, even though you were being so cryptic. Or maybe there was still a small part of you that thought he might sacrifice you out in the middle of those woods and so why not throw caution to the wind. Whatever it was, you rolled your shoulders back, looked Eddie Munson straight in the eye, and said, “I need you to be my fake boyfriend.”

His eyes grew to the size of saucers, and his mouth fell slightly agape. When he didn’t say anything at first, you immediately stood up and began to pace.

“I know that is a really weird favor to ask, but I’ve been dealing with my family constantly on my ass about not having a boyfriend for years now. And I didn’t care, really, I didn’t, until my stupid cousin had to get under my damn skin last night. She started going on about how she and her boyfriend Carlo are so happy and lucky and how I must feel so alone, especially with Christmas right around the corner. So, what did I do? Instead of giving her a ‘fuck you’ smile, I blurted out that I actually do have a boyfriend. And unfortunately for me, my whole family heard. They were happy, but Adriana had to start sticking her nose in my business…again and asked who it was. Well, I didn’t know what else to do or who else to say. I tried to tell her she didn’t know the guy, but she insisted, and so I just,” you paused, sucking in a deep breath and looking back at Eddie, “I said it was you, and I said that I was going to bring you home for Christmas dinner and now they’re all expecting to meet you.”

You stood across from Eddie, who was frozen in his seat. The utter surprise was plain as day on his face.

“Wow,” was all he said before the silence of the secluded woods surrounded the two of you.

You waited another moment, hoping that Eddie would say something. Anything. But he didn’t, so you continued.

“I know it’s a lot to ask, but I don’t expect you to do it for free.”

Eddie’s face went from surprised to mortified within a matter of seconds.

“What?”

You shook your head.

“Not like that. I heard you say you’re struggling in Ms. O’Donnell’s class the other day. I know you need to pass her final to graduate.”

The panic that was once present on his face vanished as you continued.

“I can help you. I’ll be your tutor for the rest of the year and make sure you pass and graduate. All I need you to do is pretend to be my boyfriend for the next few weeks, put on a good show for Christmas dinner, and then we can fake breakup and act like this whole transaction never took place.”

Eddie stared at you, his fingers idly spinning one of his many rings. You couldn’t help the way your eyes traveled down to his hands and watched, mesmerized. How had you never noticed how big his hands were? The thought sent a surge through your body, and you had to bury the unholy thoughts that started to emerge in your brain.

“I just have to pretend to date you for the rest of the month, and you’ll help me graduate?”

Your eyes flicked back up to meet his, and you nodded.

“Yes.”

“That’s it?”

“That’s it,” you parroted.

Eddie sat still for a second before smacking his hands against the wooden table and slowly standing up. He rounded the table until he was standing directly in front of you. You swallowed your nerves down.

“Well?”

His lips tugged upward on one side again, putting that dimple on full display before he gave a dramatic bow. His hair fell over his face, but he still managed to look up at you through hooded eyes, sending your insides into a whirl of spasms.

“Consider me your knight in shining armor,” he said before standing back up with a flourish.

You could feel your shoulders relax as a small laugh bubbled out of you. A part of you was kicking yourself for not getting to know Eddie before now. Sure, you had always thought he was cute, but you never really gave your friendship, or lack thereof, much thought. That was until you thrust the two of you into this weird business transaction.

Your lips spread into a wide grin as you held back the urge to hug Eddie.

“Thank you so much. You won’t regret this. I promise.”

He let out a chuckle that seemed to vibrate through you.

“I wouldn’t have agreed if I thought I might regret it, Y/N. Now,” he said, rubbing his hands together, “when do we start?”

You paused for a minute, not having thought the logistics through since you didn’t even think, you would get this far. But eventually, you let out a huff, gave Eddie a nervous smile, and said, “Right after we create some ground rules.”

Then, you proceeded to dig a pen and paper out of your bag, sat down at that dilapidated table, and looked up at Eddie.

“Shall we?”

#stranger things #stranger things imagine #stranger things imagines #stranger things fanfiction #stranger things fanfic #eddie munson imagine #eddie munson imagines #eddie munson #eddie munson fanfiction #eddie munson fanfic #eddie munson x fem!reader #eddie munson x y/n #eddie munson x reader

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changbinsboobs · 21 days

Text

Changbin's Current Love Life 31.8.24

First things first he's not in a relationship.

He's not having any crushes either, nor entertaining anyone at this current time.

He's focused on his self-growth and getting himself to a position/state he wants to be. He's building himself. I would even say he's remastering himself.

He has rejected lots of people and left lots of crushes behind, and i believe he has had his fair share of heartbreak in his love life. From both sides i would say.

I think he has been pretty unlucky in his love life till now. That's why he's taking a break (i believe a longer break too, I'm seeing webs😂 i think he hasn't been in the game for a while) from all that dating/relationships stuff. Quite a contrast ti the rest if his life cuz he generally seems like a very lucky person overall. Very gifted, with lots of good people around him and he seems to me like opportunities just keep flowing his way. Someone that gives the vibe of being "gods favourit".

He has invested sooo much energy and time and just himself in vain, shallow, mismatched and even toxic relationships that have taken from him more than they have given. I think this would be his Achiles Heel and the one thing he doesn't have. Like he has it all, but he doesn't have that. Or at least that's how he feels.

I think with all the success he has had with his career, finances, popularity among people and friends, luck with his family, academical success yada yada yada - he has reached a point where as satisfiying those things once were - they don't bring him the fulfillment he once had. I think he feels a certain emptiness and maybe even a bit of aimlessness? Don't get me wrong i think he still lives doing music, but being an idol is not what it once was to him and as he has grown more mature and satiated his greediness for sucess - his needs have moved elsewhere and now he's really thirsty and greedy for love. I think thats why he has so many spilled cups - cuz he has felt that way for a while now and has eagerly tried to find the missing piece, but its not that easy as all of the other stuff. And so now he has come to a point where he "waits".

I think this is a lesson for him to bring him down to earth a bit and to humble him. Not that he's not humble. He is. But thats a different kind if humbleness im talking about. Like, he has had so much given to him in terms of options. I believe he's someone that has always had the opportunity to choose. And whatever he chose it would've been good. Of course he has to put in lots of work into what he does, we see that now in his songs and performance etc. but for him it was always easier than for others. His odds for success are higher. Even if he doesn't succeed and excel, he doesn't fail. And if he were to ever fail, he would have a safety net from steel and gold, with people on every corner waiting for him to choose from which end of the net he wants to get down. And then when he does he gets his hand held each step, not even that, he's carried. Thats the image im getting in terms of what i mean he has had it easy compared to others. (Small note i believe any hate and ignorance etc that might come his way is genuinely nothing but pure jealousy from people. Energy can feel energy. Even if people don't know him, they subconsciously feel how full his cup is with the highest quality of wine, and that its golden and adorned with all kinds of diamonds and precious stones...meanwhile the have a few raindrops in their hands.) As i said "gods favourite". But that favour reaches only to a certain point - and this more unlucky part of his life is the one thing to put him on the same level as others. While other people are just regular, he's exceptional - but in turn for that, he has a continuous thirst for something he cannot get until he deserves it in some way i feel like. And it's completely out of his reach or control. I think thats a feeling thats very foreign to him. So thats what i mean by humbling.

I got too much into that specific topic but yeah, i think he has battled with this for a while and has reached a new level of that stage/lesson in his life and i believe his curent focus is on himself and bettering himself as a person. Growing outside of himself and getting reborn. Turning inside, and also reaching further than his arms length. I believe he has been pretty sheltered and has always had a pretty small circle. Like he has kept in his comfort zone most if not all of his life and hasn't done much outside if it for the simple reason the never had a reason to. Until now.

I would say he's on a journey:)

And i see him "praying" for wisdom, for guidance, for a direction. He's "praying" for love. And i don't mean praying in the religious sense but rather he's just reaching out to the universe. As i said above - reaching out beyond his arms length. He's in search of more. Higher meaning. I believe he's someone that has already mastered the physical very very well!!! Probably his good karma from many many successful past lives. And i believe his soulmate (the one he's seeking and praying for and doing all this transformation for) is the exact opposite. I believe his soulmate has always had great luck in the more higher aspects of life (sadly those are way less in a physical world) but little to no knowledge on how to operate the physical world. I think both of them are currently in a metamorphosis state where he reaches out to her, while she reaches out to him. He reaches up for the sky, while she learns how to stand on the ground and when they learn they both will meet in the middle and continue learning from each other and supporting each other.

I feel like there's much more to it but i had to take a break in between the reading and had to go back to it later, which made me lose that train of "thought" i had, and the cards in itself don't show anything else than what i've already talked about so I guess I'll leave it at that. And in a few months i might do another one as a continuation/follow up of this one.

Since this reading was very divinely oriented, involving energy concerning his past lives, destiny, soulmate, karma, purpose, life lessons etc, i think ill do one about such divine orchestration topics soon, as i believe he's someone that has a lot of energy to read about that:)

#tarot reading #skz #stray kids #kpop #seo changbin #tarot #love #life #current #energy

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lawrites · 2 years

Text

A Softer Side

Aemond Targaryen x Plus Size Female Reader

You are a Strong, and as such you have spent much time in the Red Keep with your Lord Father the Hand. After crossing paths with Aemond many times, you have forged an unlikely friendship at only ten-and-four.

This chapter is safe for all ages. There are some things that may be problematic such as a young betrothal (at 14), Targaryen incest sometimes mentioned, some self-deprecation and insults from other characters, (Especially "your" mom).

Other chapters will mention the terrible things that happen to the Strong family, Aemond's disfigurement, and once they are older may be suggestive or more. But for now they are kids and literally thinking of nothing but being happy with each other. This is more of a prologue to explain their relationship than anything, really.

I am not planning on following canon and allowing the dance to happen because this is a reader insert so like...why not be happy? Also book lore says Aemond was 10 when he lost his eye but I'm aging them up to 14 because betrothing people at 10 would be WILD. (14 is still wild but it's GOT so) Anyway, enjoy!

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You were luckier than your fellow noble girls in many ways...and yet unlucky in others. The Red Keep is your home, surrounding you with royalty of all kinds. Your mother told you before you left that it would be almost impossible not to make a good match, even at your age of ten-and-four and with your "plump" figure. No matter her words or her scoldings, it seemed like you just were inclined to be softer than others. It wasn't a crime, but for a noble girl in your time it may as well have been. You weren’t unlucky because of your softness, of course, your body is your body, but there are people that just don’t understand.

You walk just as much as the other girls, embroider, read, eat like them, and yet your body has decided that you must be bigger. In your own eyes, you suspect that it must be due to your "Stronger" genes. Yes, the daughter of someone who produced a hulking giant like Harwin and a smart, cunning whip of a man like Larys might also be unexpected in terms of body type. Lyonel was large, your mother was small, and it was only a coin toss to see which you would be.

Like your father, you seemed to retain weight in your middle. You are young, though, and according to your mother could "lose your baby weight at any day." You scoff and remind yourself that this may be the body you are in forever, which is fine by you. Either you find a lord that doesn't mind your weight or you don't, and you end up a maid. But those are the same options presented to every young girl in the kingdom, so you refuse to feel sorry for yourself.

Your father did see a lot of himself in you, though. Pitying and understanding glances thrown your way during your mother's lectures at dinner. If she ever revoked your food, your father would sneak up a plate to your room while Harwin kept watch. But with your father's position as Hand of the King, you were left alone with your mother more often than not. Eventually, you begged him to take you to the Red Keep with him, just as he did for Harwin and Larys. He could never seem to refuse you, and your mother agreed quickly as well.

Yes, you were lucky to be in the Red Keep and away from her now. It was your opinion that she wanted you out of her hair as much as you wanted out of her reach. And you did seem to come to your own when away from her. You stopped shrinking down at dinners or around others and began to straighten your back like a proper lady. The weight hasn't gone, just like you suspected, but that's alright with you. It at least keeps Aegon's interests away.

The elder son of Queen Alicent was cruel, and his face shows it each time he glances at you. He seems to hold almost a hatred towards any woman or girl that didn't fit within his type, and that decidedly includes you. Princes Jacaerys and Lucerys treat you like any other person, as their own mother has a figure like yours. But...Aemond...

Aemond was one of your best friends here. You were of similar ages and had initially met when you both waited outside the small council chamber for your fathers. Aemond would try to catch even a glimpse of Viserys as he stormed away from the meetings, while you would await your own father who would escort you either to the dining hall or your rooms depending on the time of day.

You began to speak quietly with Aemond outside the hall one day, surprised when he answered back. He is sweet, that much you can say, and soft-spoken. Many may call him reserved but you believe that to be fair after he has been ignored by his father and insulted by his brother and nephews. You began to invite him to eat with you and your own father after the meetings, wanting for him to not be as alone in the world.

He accepted the first time and would follow you with an unspoken look at each meeting from there on. He seemed to begin to open up to you and the Lord Hand, to a lesser extent. Your own father seemed to be impressed and proud of your ability to bring out a talkative and excitable side to the prince. You have always had a gift for relating to others and bringing out the best in them.

All you really had to do was observe and remember. You knew that Aemond likes to read, as you saw him under the Godswood with a book on many of your strolls, and you knew that he knows much of the history of the seven kingdoms. So, at the first dinner, you asked him about his favorite story. His eyes widened and, with a little prompting, he began to regale you of a tale of knights and princesses and nobility and dragons, of course. He said more words that night than your Lord Father had ever seen. And you listened intently, your hand on your chin and a small smile on your face. You found yourself happy when the prince was happy.

And he began to take more notice of you outside of your dinners as well...and you him, of course. He would glance up from his reading as he sat under the Godswood, waiting to catch a glimpse of you as you walked by. Eventually, he would even invite you to sit with him, asking if he could read to you. You accepted, and would sit next to him on his blanket, politely listening to his soft voice. Sometimes he would have you read to him, which gave him the ability to look openly at you as your eyes focused on the words.

It is a beautiful, peaceful moment such as that today. You are currently under the Godswood, allowing yourself to lay down by Aemond's side as he reads from a heavy tome. He seems to be taking pauses in between some paragraphs today, your eyes meeting as he glances down at you with a soft smile. You are, of course, unable to know his own thoughts, which center on how pretty you look with your hair shining in the sun, a soft, contented smile on your face. But near the end of the chapter, as he pauses once more, you glance up to see that he is not looking at you, but ahead.

You pull yourself up to rest on your elbows, shocked to see your own father and the King himself standing in the walkway, looking at the two of you. You and Aemond quickly get to your feet. He bows while mumbling out a "father" and you curtsy while welcoming his grace. Both of them have small smiles on their face, and Viserys almost seems...lighter...maybe even happier than you have seen him in a while.

They move on, leaving you and Aemond are a bit shaken. After sitting in silence for a moment, looking at each other with a slight awkwardness, Aemond slams the book closed as he moves to get up. "I-I am sorry, truly, but I must leave you now to practice." You nod with understanding, standing up and making a shoo-ing motion. "I understand, Prince, go on! Become Strong like me." You smile at him and show him your "Strong" arms by flexing. He laughs and his eyes light up with almost determination, "I-I will become S-Strong for you, you will see!"

He runs off, as you turn and roll your eyes at his enthusiasm, your heart feeling the warmth of content. You find yourself walking to your own practice with embroidery, humming to yourself as your shoes echo on the stones. Though it isn't as impressive as a sword, you were actually happy to be able to create something with your own hands and thread. It was frustrating at first, but like Aemond's sword fighting, you practiced.

You are proud of the progress you have made, and the other ladies like to gather and coo over your work. Currently, you have been embroidering a scene from Aemond's favorite story. The flags of the tournament were difficult to get as detailed as you wanted, but the knights are almost glinting in the sun thanks to your skill.

As you finish off a thread, you hear murmurs of "Lord Hand" and hear the clatter of rings being set down. You look up to see your father and quickly set down your work as well, rising to your feet. He smiles and grabs your shoulders. "My dear, I have a surprise for you at dinner tonight." Your face contorts in confusion as you are about to ask what, but your father shakes his head. "I cannot tell you until you join us, but I would like for you to go to your rooms and prepare yourself instead of meeting us outside the small council chambers. Put on your best dress, make sure your hair is presentable, possibly take a bath after laying in the dirt..."

He scrunches up his nose in an obvious jest and you both laugh. You nod your head, ever the dutiful daughter, and pick up your embroidery. Your own father prefers to lead you to your rooms, (with Harwin being close behind if he was available), as it gives him time to discuss your opinions of the Red Keep and your happiness as you walk. "Now, what have you been making here?" He asks as you leave the room.

You try to hide the embroidery but he snatches it from your hands. "Ah! I recognize this well. You have a talent, my dear. Or...at least I believe you do. I know not of embroidery myself." He smiles and you giggle. "But what made you so fixated on creating this scene in thread?"

You blush and look down as you continue to walk, fixating on your shoes. "Oh. Well...Prince Aemond's name-day will be here before we know it. I...I wished to have a gift for him, and so...I made him his favorite scene from his favorite story."

Your Lord Father nods as you continue to look down, his face showing almost triumph as his assumption was right. He remembers that first meal with Aemond just as well as you do. You look up to him, your hand reaching out for your work. He gently places it into your hand, and you look at it as you speak. "Will Aemond be alright if I do not meet him as usual after the small council meeting?"

Your Father smiles as he looks down at you, "Yes, I will meet him and escort him to our dining room." He places his hand on your shoulder. "Do not worry, my child, he will understand your delayed arrival soon." You nod and look up at your door as you reach your chambers. The doors swing open under your hands, and you allow yourself one glance back for reassurance at your father before you close them behind you.

You find your father had arranged for a few handmaidens and a hot bath to be ready for you, and you gladly sink into the fragrant water as your hair is quickly unbraided and gently washed. Once you are clean, you dry off and then step into your best chemise and dress. As your handmaidens braid your drying hair neatly once more, you run your hands nervously over your front, feeling your soft middle.

The handmaidens help you with the finishing touches to your look, catching flyaway hairs and wrangling them into place. They also give you just a hint of perfume your mother had sent with you, the smell reminding you of home. Once they are finished, the sun is falling behind the ocean, and you must head to dinner.

You find your own brothers standing outside your room once you exit, both Harwin and Larys looking towards you. Harwin smiles with his entire face and seems to want to give you one of his all-encompassing bear hugs, but Larys gently places a hand on his chest. "Not yet, brother. She must be presentable for the dinner." You smile gratefully at Larys, knowing that he thinks more deeply about things sometimes than Harwin.

He gives you a very cryptic glance back. It is almost a smile, but guarded. Though you spend more time with Harwin, you always enjoy time with Larys. His advice was what kept you sane in the Red Keep when whispers about your body followed you in your first few weeks. Though his struggle is much different than yours, you both are able to commiserate and get advice from the other. You worry that, as a girl of ten-and-four, you cannot even begin to give Larys any useful advice...but he sometimes seems to be comforted just by your understanding and listening ear.

He continues to give you the cryptic look as he softly speaks, "Good luck, little sister." And you hear his cane clack against the stone as he moves in the opposite direction. Harwin shakes his head a bit and grabs your shoulder in comfort, telling you that you look beautiful as you walk down the stairs and towards the hall.

"Harwin?" He glances down at you. "Why is this dinner different? Did I do something wrong?" Harwin moves to your front and kneels in front of you as he grabs your shoulders, stopping you from entering the dining room just yet. "You have done nothing of the sort." His eyes are open and loving. "You are a wonderful daughter for our father and a kind sister. Anyone would be happy to be counted amongst your acquaintances. Remember that." You nod, confusingly, as Harwin nods back and stands up. You did not notice upon first glance, but Kingsguard are stationed at the door.

They open the doors for you, and Harwin places his hand on your back to lead you into the room. Your face of confusion turns to shock as you see King Viserys where you do not expect him for the second time today. Queen Alicent is by his side at the head of the table, and a quick glance to Aemond shows his look of shock as well. (Though you do not know that he is more shocked at your beauty than his own father) You quickly curtsy as you are announced, looking to the King and Queen and doing your best to give them your Graces.

The King smiles and points to a spot next to Aemond. "Please, join us young one." You glance to your father and he nods. Usually you sit across from Aemond, but tonight would be different, it seems. You walk to your seat and are surprised to see Aemond stand up and pull it out for you. You blush, thank him, and sit down, letting him push your chair back in.

The King gives a slight toast to "new friends and the Strong bond between family" and begins to dig in. You glance to your father who has also begun to eat, taking it as your own cue to do so as well. You find a singular piece of potato that interests you, spearing it with your fork. The voice of your mother spears through you in much the same way, "Must you be so happy to eat, child? At least appear as if food holds nothing to you even if it is clear to everyone that it does."

You slowly bring it up, trying not to appear too hungry, and eat, glancing over at Aemond to see that he is also unable to eat with his usual fervor. At least you weren't alone in your lost appetite. Your father clears his throat and you look to him. "So, my dear daughter, would you like to discuss your day as usual with Aemond?" As straightforward as ever, your father. You nod but glance in what you think is an imperceptible way towards the King.

He chuckles as your eyes meet. "Oh, she is a bit frightened of me, it seems, Lyonel." You blush a bit, feeling ashamed that the King can tell. "Just pretend I am not here, child." You find yourself speaking without even thinking, "Pardon, your Grace, but that is easier said than done." You shock yourself and look down to your plate in shame, before you hear the King let out a loud, surprised laugh.

"Very well said and observed." You look up once more to see that his face is full of mischief. "Then instead, pretend that I am an old man who cares not of the manners of court for the time being." You stay quiet, causing the Queen to interject. "My dear, we are your friends here. You may discuss whatever you want freely with Aemond."

She gives you a gentle smile that doesn't quite reach her eyes as you turn from her to Aemond. He is blushing heavily at this point, and you try to very slowly and gently grab his hand in support. He looks to you and you begin to speak in a soft voice. "H-how was training today, Prince Aemond?"

He looks to you and then to his father...then down to his plate. "O-oh. Well...I was k-knocked down by Aegon once more. Many times, in fact." You feel his shame, and the urge to comfort him makes you truly forget about the King. "Aemond, that is alright. You are younger." You smile and continue, "And besides, the best knights learn from their mistakes and losses and use them to become Strong."

He turns to you in thankfulness, "S-Strong like you?" You nod, "Exactly, Strong like me!" And you pick up your arm, showing him your "muscles." He giggles and you smile and then you remember where you are. You slowly look to the King and your Father, lowering your arm and blushing at forgetting your manners and behavior. The King begins to eat again, saying through a mouthful of food, "Well, go on."

You feel so ashamed that now you are the one who cannot speak, and Aemond instead is the one who talks. "My Lady Strong, what have you done today?" He squeezes your hand and seems to be looking only at you. You inhale and respond. "Well, you know I embroider as all Ladies in court do, but that must bore a Prince such as yourself."

Aemond shakes his head. "Nothing that you do bores me, My Lady." He has slightly reddened cheeks as he continues, "You are interesting in everything that you do...to m-me that is." He smiles at you, truly this time, and you smile back.

"Well, that is good to know, My Prince." You have completely forgotten about the royalty in the room once more, basking in just talking with your dearest friend. "I will bring a nice, dusty old tome from the Maester's Library to read tomorrow at the Godswood. It should thrill you to hear about all of the proceedings of court from times of peace."

You muster up your best proper voice and continue, "Yes, and on the 12th day of millions of years ago, a King decided to have tea with his friends. They spoke at length with each other and then retired to their rooms." You collapse a bit into your normal posture and use your normal voice once more. "Quite riveting, if I am not mistaken."

Aemond truly laughs, his own thoughts away from his father watching over him. Then he looks at you with open enthusiasm. "If I am to hear about it from you, then I do not mind." He squeezes your hand once more, "You have a way of making history interesting to me."

A jarring sound of utensils being set down brings you both from your conversation, and you suddenly, again, remember that the King has been watching you with his son the whole time. You look to him apprehensively, expecting to get a lecture about respect towards history or the Prince. But instead you see his face still holds his previous smile.

"Well, it seems my Lord Hand is right once more, wouldn't you agree, my dear?" He looks to the Queen, who slowly nods. "It does appear that, though we thought him to be biased..." She glances with almost coldness at your father, "...he once again does his best to give you an accurate reading of circumstances." She looks to her son at the end of her sentence, and notices your joined hands. She seems to soften a bit, almost unable to keep up any pretense.

She looks to the King. "I say that the Strong's have been excellent allies to the court and..." She pauses, "...Lord Strong has been a decent Hand of the King these years." She gathers herself. "I await your decision, Lord Husband."

You stop for a moment...decision? But The King stands, with a bit of difficulty, and the rest of the table follows suit. He grins at his son and begins, "I believe that the best way to reward years of service and ensure continued loyalty would be the joining of House Strong and House Targaryen." He brings up his goblet in a motion for a toast, and you all follow suit. "I, Viserys Targaryen, King of the Andals, the Rhoynar, and the First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm, do hereby join my own House and House Strong by betrothing mine own son Aemond Targaryen to Lady Y/N of the House Strong." Your eyes open wide in shock, unable to even move as he continues his speech, "...you will be wed once you turn ten-and-eight, and from then on you will be bound. We all hope your union to be one of joy and prosperity." He brings up his goblet to drink and everyone follows, with the exception of you and Aemond.

You glance over and him and notice that he has already been looking to you, a blush on his face. He gives you a small smile and motions to your cup. You hurriedly bring it to your lips to mirror the King's movements, and he does the same. Once the toast is finished you all sit down, the King leading in his own stead. He looks to you both and speaks, "It does seem that the two of you already have a bond of friendship."

You feel your face heating up but continue to look to the King. "You know, the best marriages are built based on not only duty, but friendship and love." The King seems to deflate then, lost in his own thoughts. The Queen worriedly holds his arm and you take hold of Aemond's hand in comfort once more.

"I-I seem to be ready to retire for the night," The King almost whispers. There have been rumors around the court of his failing health. He seems to lose himself and his energy even after the smallest of exertions. The Queen nods to the guards and they all summon around the King, ready to escort him. Viserys looks to you both once more before he leaves the room, and his eyes seem to hold such sadness as he softly speaks, "My son, treat her well."

And with that, the doors shut, leaving you, your Father, and Aemond alone once more. Your father clears his throat and calls for your brother to enter the room. Surprisingly, both Larys and Harwin enter, and they join you as you all take a seat once more. Food is brought for them, and they begin to eat, Harwin glancing between both Aemond and your own untouched plate.

Aemond seems to shrink a bit under his critical gaze, but he also looks to see that you haven't eaten much. He squeezes your hand and looks at you with imploring eyes. "My Lady, won't you eat? You cannot stay Strong without it, you know." He tries to grin but his own worry is palpable through his attempt at humor.

You shake your head in disbelief, "I-I cannot find myself able to even think of hunger at the moment after...after..." You look to him. "...So...we are to be betrothed then? Just like that?"

Aemond seems to shrink even more, releasing your hand. "I am sorry if I was not the person you had wanted." He almost whispers now. "I know that I do not even have a dragon. I cannot be the best for you."

Your eyes widen, understanding how Aemond could misunderstand your question. The pause in the sounds of cutlery against plates makes you look to your family, who had indeed stopped eating to listen in. You glare at all of them, especially at Harwin, who brings up his hands in surrender and continues to eat. The sounds give you a bit of cover.

You grab his hand gently, trying to hold it tight so he can't escape again. "My prince," you say lowly, "There is no one I would rather be with than you. I-" you pause, breathing in shakily. "...I was only worried that you would not be happy with me. I am not a great beauty nor from a Valerian House." You feel what Aemond had felt, now, wanting to draw your own hand away. "I cannot offer you what others could."

Aemond grips your hand tightly now and shakes his head. "No! No! I...I cannot think of another who has been here for me like you. Or another who I have wanted to share my time with such as you. You are my..." He pauses, "...my greatest friend. It is an honor to be betrothed."

You sigh, realizing that maybe friendship IS the best you could hope for from a Targaryen Prince in your marriage. You nod. "I agree wholeheartedly." He looks to your plate once more. "Then please eat for me, my betrothed. You deserve to be happy and taken care of. I-I will take care of you." Squeezing his hand, you take your utensils as directed. Your brother makes a disgusted sound and you look to Harwin, who rolls his eyes and pretends to gag.

You stick out your tongue at your much older brother's childish antics, and you decide that you will eat your food if for no other reason than to spite him and his disgust at your friendship with the Prince. Once finished, you stand up and announce that you will retire to your rooms. Harwin stands as well to escort you, but Aemond grabs your hand.

"Y-you wouldn't mind if I walked you there as well?" You shake your head and look to your father for approval. His face is full of such warmth and pride that it almost makes you want to run to your rooms to escape it, not used to being the center of such happy emotions. He nods, "Of course, Prince Aemond. Harwin will escort you both to my daughters chambers, where you can say goodnight."

You gently take Aemond's outstretched hand with a blush. He at least was doing his best to appear to be the perfect betrothed, and you would do the same. Though you know that it will not be difficult to try on your part. You walk in silence, mainly, Harwin occasionally chuckling lowly, causing you to glare at him. Once you reach your chambers, Aemond brings you in front of him, holding both of your hands.

He looks nervously at Harwin, and you glare up at him once more, signalling him to turn with your head. He rolls his eyes and turns his back on the two of you, crossing his arms. Aemond smiles softly at you, his eyes shining. "Would you close your eyes for me, my Lady Strong." You do, giving him a small smile in return. You feel his breath on your cheek for only a moment before his lips replace it, you eyes opening in shock as you see the Prince give you a chaste kiss on the cheek.

He pulls back and his cheeks are bright red, you bring one of your hands from his to feel your face, which is warm as well. You almost feel as if your body is made of some sort of ice that can melt into the floor when his free hand caresses your face where he kissed it. "G-goodnight, my Lady Strong."

You softly respond, "Goodnight, my Strong Prince."

He blushes, looks down, and releases your hands, allowing you to enter your room. You glance back at him once more to see him watching you intently, you wave, and close the doors behind you.

Filled with childish glee that one almost never gets to experience in a world such as the one you inhabit, you rush to your bed and grab one of the soft pillows, using it to mask your squeal of happiness. Aemond would be your Husband. Aemond would be your HUSBAND! Even if he would never love you as you him, it would be so much easier to move through life with him by your side. Your handmaiden looks on in happiness, herself, before tapping you on the shoulder.

As you babble to her about the day, acting like the child you are for the first time around her, you get ready for bed. You are so excited from thoughts of your future rushing through your head that you cannot even think to get to sleep. It is, of course, not your fault that you couldn't see the future. Perhaps if you could, you might have worked to stop what was already in motion. Though realizing it was out of your control, you might have felt dejected.

At least, you might have forced yourself to calm down and sleep, as it would become very difficult for you to do so in the very near future, as a deep, dark dread is approaching on the horizon. For your family, especially.

#lawrites #plus size reader #aemond x plus size reader #aemond targaryen x plus size reader #aemond targaryen #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x female reader #house of the dragon fanfic #Strong reader

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mx-julien · 7 months

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Zane is curious to a fault and that's my favorite flaw. refined version of this rough fic post from three years ago. now posted on ao3

Zane gets taken prisoner by the Mechanic. Nya and Cole are on the way, but will they get there in time? And why Zane?

CW: threats of robot violence (not carried out), canon-typical violence (people get beat up and walk away with a bruise or two)

///

Gray is called neutral for a reason. It doesn't offend any of the other colors. Not with red plastic wire jackets or the gold wiring inside, cradled by unpolished titanium plates. The only real light Zane has is falling onto the concrete floor and stretches up to his chest. Someone removed a Monopoly box-sized rectangle from the door and stuck wrought iron in. It's a far cry from the smooth round bars installed in Kryptarium. They should rethink calling him "Most Valuable Prisoner" if these are the conditions they put important people in.

Zane would halfheartedly kick at a rock, but all of his motors are shot except for the ones on his neck, abdomen, and right are. Also, there are no rocks nearby, so he lies there, half propped against a wall. His left arm is detached and strewn to the side of the cell in the corner.

The slivers of light are disturbed by a silhouette wearing a bowl hat. In a few moments, the door is open and The Mechanic stands inscribed in a rectangle of light that crawls towards the inside of Zane's cell, "Little nindroid," he leans in, keys jangling on his hip, "Don't count yourself lucky 'cause I'm not leavin' any time soon."

After a moment to process the double negative, Zane tries to right his head and gets about 70% there. His vision is still tilted slightly to the left. "You're the unlucky one," an exposed motor audibly whirs when he speaks. One good arm helps push his back further up the wall in an effort to look like he's sitting rather than considerably incapacitated. "And an idiot on top of that," he looks pointedly around the room, "Or did you not realize that you led us straight to your base?" Zane looks the mechanic in the one good eye he has.

He just laughs, "Like you'll ever make it back to tell 'em!" The clanging of loose gears punctuates every heave of his leather-clad chest.

Someone from behind yells, "Yeah!" and pumps a fist into the air while another curls one hand into a fist and hits it against their palm as an ode of what's to come. Oh joy.

Squinting, Zane can make out three goons of various sizes past the doorway. All of them are wearing tattered leather jackets and ripped acid wash jeans. Idly, he wonders if their 'Henchmen from an 80s movie' outfits come out of their paycheck or the boss'.

The Mechanic turns and screeches for them to be quiet.

Then he searches a large, and horribly inconvenient, key ring. After what feels like ages, he clips a particular key to his belt.

He sets his eyes on Zane and begins to creep forward into the cell, "You're going to give me that capacitor real nice like," he motions his hands in a 'come come' manner that Zane discovers he finds incredibly demeaning, "Or I'm gonna take you apart 'til I find it like the Good 'Ol Mechanic I am." He crouches, still out of arm's reach but too close for any semblance of comfort, "Like I've wanted to for so long. You get me?" Grinning, he shows off teeth adorned with gold and silver. Either he lacks dental hygiene or fancies the look of grillz.

The metal piece replacing his eye has a few lights in it that stare at Zane like they're expecting him to blink first. "We destroyed it-" narrowing his eyes before scoffing, "Do you really think we'd keep around a novel compact device capable of holding that much electricity?"

"No," The Mechanic stands up to full height and walks backwards to lean back on the cell wall, "I think you," he points at Zane, "Are curious enough to want it around to tinker with - to figure out all its little secrets and whatnot." A pause. "But smart enough to know that your other little friends wouldn't agree." He takes out a cigarette and flicks his lighter, illuminating the dank room. It is summarily snuffed out after serving its purpose; the butt of the cigarette glows a dark red. "You either have it or you know where it is." He draws in a breath and lets the smoke trickle out through his mustache.

Zane feels a tangible sense of checkmate as he sees the ash fall between oily human fingers. But it's not over yet. "Fine," he raises his head the last several degrees to straighten it fully, "But if I don't tell you where it is, how is taking me apart going to help? You'll never find it if I'm not intact."

"Tell it to me now," he shuts the door, letting it clang so loud it makes the tallest henchman flinch, "And you won't have to see me rilflin' 'round that chest of yours to see where the memory stick's at." He pulls a pair of foot-long pliers out of his toolbelt, wearing a smile that borders on the side of deranged.

This is Zane's own fault and he's fully aware that he deserves what's coming to him. But he can't help feeling relief when a door down the hallway is kicked in and "Hands off the nindroid!" echoes through the room.

The goons spring to their feet just in time for Nya to incapacitate the shortest one and trip the gangliest member against a wall. It's enough to keep her occupied that a woman with blond, curly hair puts her arms around Nya's neck in a choke hold. Out of reflex, Zane tries to move his left arm to grab a shuriken, only to be greeted by sparks that jump to the ground and fizzle out.

Nya widens her stance and attempts to flip her assailant onto the person slumped against the nearby wall. When the taller goon flips open a switchblade, she reconsiders just long enough for the Mechanic to make it over and brandish his brass knuckles. Stopped in her tracks, Nya lifts the feet of her attacker from behind just long enough to spin around and jerk backwards to smash the Mechanic into a wall.

She's not pay attention to the person with the knife. They've stood up and are mid-lunge when Cole barrels through the hallway, knocking the wind out of them and leaving them gasping for air on the floor. Nya still has an arm around her neck, but the woman attacking her is dazed. Cole grabs one of her arms, letting Nya twist out of the way. She snatches a pair of handcuffs from the henchman's belt, securing the woman's hands behind her back and around a table leg. Cole was checking the pulses of the other knocked out henchmen, so he didn't notice who had gone missing.

"Damn hard to find good help these days," not to be forgotten, the Mechanic quickly locks he cell door behind him and throws the keys across the room, coming to rest near what used to be the Zane's left elbow, "Oh well," his other hand grabs wire cutters out of an inner coat pocket, "Guess we'll have an audience, eh, nindroid?"

"Shit!"

He takes only two steps closer before the door groans and bends behind him. The Mechanic spins around, shocked. Nya chooses that moment to walk through the new opening in the concrete, drag him a few feet closer to her by grabbing his shirt, then punch his lights out.

Cole watches it happen, a few of his locs obscuring an eye, while he's still holding the door in his hands. Almost regarding it as a seasoned debate student would his notes. He promptly throws it aside after his eyes land on Zane's, rather dishevelled look.

"Hey buddy," he bends down at Zane's right side, putting a hand on his back so it's easier to sit, "Not looking too hot," he scans the room, finally able to process the extent of the damage, "What the hell did they do to you?"

"They tore that arm off," he uses his head to gesture to it, as if there are some other remains of a titanium android's arm lying around in close proximity, "And then it joined me as I was pushed off a building." Zane puts a hand on Cole's shoulder, "But I gathered what I could of it and I'm okay. All the important things are intact."

Finished with tying up the Mechanic, Nya walks in and surveys the damage she, Jay, and Pixal will have to repair, "What did they want from you, anyways?" She takes off her gi to use as a makeshift bag to hold the large arm plates she's picking up, "They seemed to specifically go after you once they regrouped."

Zane's lifted into the air, his legs uneven; the right side showing too many wires to be fully intact inside and the other being so crumpled it became an inch shorter. Cole's supporting all of his weight, one arm gripping the area where an arm used to be and his right holding on to the metallic one that's slung around his shoulders.

"The capacitor from last week."

"What about it?" Cole shuffles sideways through the opening so Zane's legs don't catch, "But you destroyed it a few days ago? Why'd they think- don't tell me you-"

Pointedly, Zane looks the hallway, admiring the bent door and its handle laying on the floor. Nya stands up, gi in hand, and leaves the cell, putting her free hand on her hip and sighing, "Zane. This is why we get rid of those things in the first place."

He waits a beat, feeling the eyes of his disappointed friends. Much Zane's body may be broken but his pride is in perfect working condition. They just didn't understand, clearly. "It stores energy so much more efficiently than anything we have developed right now. We don't even know if it's the design or the materials or-"

"Or what?" Cole readjusts his grip on him, making the loose pieces in his legs rattle and scrape together, "It could be important, sure, but is it worth it to get captured again? Damn it, Zane, we can't afford to worry about someone going missing or another burnt down monastery!"

"I-" the nindroid lets his head hang, giving him a clear view of the wreckage that is his lower half. His voice gets quieter, "There was some... collateral damage I hadn't fully taken into account."

After a few moments of silence, Nya gets out her phone to call the commissioner. His limp body is dragged out anther door and up several flights of spiral stone stairs onto the roof. Zane's set down against an air conditioning unit, propped up like a favorite tea time doll.

Cole sits down to his right, holding his one good hand. He takes the other to push hair out of his eyes. Taking a deep breath in, he methodically exhales after almost exactly ten seconds.

A full minute later, Cole tries to speak, "Just-" he turns his head to look away from Zane, to where the Bounty will presumably dock soon. "We can always get you one from Borg: the guy has everything," he squeezes his hand, "Except- except you. We only have one of you, and I'd like to keep this Zane in one piece."

There was no use pointing out that Borg does not have what he's looking for. "I'll..." letting his voice box draw out the word, he leans forward a little, catching Cole's eye, "restrain myself - in the future, that is - when it comes to things like this."

Cole just nods, accepting the apology as one might tuck a missing letter into their pocket.

Zane's not forgiven yet, just understood.

Nya comes up after not much longer and sits where his left arm would usually be when it's not shattered into pieces.

Soon, the Bounty will descend out of the clouds, but right now it's tranquil. Zane closes his eyes, shutting off visual sensors and allowing his head to rest on the AC unit behind them. If he sits here long enough, he just might forget how damaged his legs are.

And how the capacitor sitting right next to his heart has never felt heavier.

~*~

set in a "vaguely after s8" timeline and Some General Robot Gore, but none of the End Of The Season Plot things. wanted to treat myself a little bit because I love underexplored character flaws and broken robots.

lmk if you want another chapter on the team's POV or the bit leading up to Zane's capture; or just throw me a prompt in my asks

#ninjago #zane julien #cole brookstone #nya smith #ninjago mechanic #the mechanic #ninjago headcanons #ninjago fanfiction #robot gore kind of #lego ninjago #zangst kind of #LRGwritesthings #happy ending don't worry #cw threats #cw minor violence #POSTED THIS TO THE WRONG BLOG TWICE IN A ROW #I HATE EVERYTHING

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