#I GENUINELY could not think of a way for him to fix him becoming her cazador so uh | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

morgana-ren · 7 months

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i love angst, and i love your writing, but please, PLEASE, i beg you, could you write some hope of tav ever returning now that the imbecile, has realised the error of his ways 🥺😭 (either way, thank you so much, for all your astarion writtings, it has made me feel things, the angst is real and my masochistic heart loves it🥲)

First part of the story HERE

Common complaint I got on that one! So I fixed it just for y'all. This ending is much less sad and much more sappy, so here is the comfort you need after all that angst!

"Darling, will you smile for me? Just once more. Please--"

He feels her cheeks in his palms, the soft skin against his battle-hardened callouses. Desperation cradles his unbeating heart, and for a moment, the emotion is far too much. A searing flame after centuries of frost. A bonfire in a blizzard. It hurts-- it burns--

"My love, I just need you to--"

"Anything my lord, anything at all for you. Simply command me and I will do anything you ask."

"No, I can't-- I-- I won't do it. I won't. I won't!"

"My lord?"

Her head cocks, turning slowly to look upon him, but her eyes-- they are empty; beetle-black and hollow. Her smile is uncanny as a painted doll, her movements disjointed and inhuman. Her teeth are stained crimson with blood, dripping, dripping, ever dripping down, never swallowed, only pooling.

She is light as a feather as she slips away from him, her skin marbling into a sickly gray before ash spreads across her body as a disease, smearing her form into nothingness. Only her face is left untouched, pretty as porcelain, unflinching and unfalling save a small crack that splinters down from her forehead down to her eyes, revealing inky black abyss beneath.

"My lord-- Oh, my tender, vicious lord. I can feel your anguish-- your hunger. Devour me to be whole once more--"

Her blood smells of rot and she--

She is too far gone to save. Too far gone to ever be saved.

"I won't!"

Whirlwind. Pain. Confusion and dread and seeping anguish. A maelstrom of rage and all-consuming despair swelling from within his soul—

—his soul?

The world around him falls away, a wicked tornado thrashing him about, his mind howling in the eternal winds--

And suddenly he is in a chair.

Not a throne. A chair— and a rather uncomfortable one at that.

"What in the hells—"

His vision spins, nausea curling his gut into a wicked tide of sickness barely restrained by his teeth. He tastes stale blood crawling up his throat, threatening to overturn onto the faded rug beneath him.

"Did you see what you wished for, little spawn?"

The voice takes him by surprise. It is not hers, but another, less familiar voice. The wailing animal in his head retreats to a dull roar as his memory creeps back. A brightly colored tent assaults his vision, piecemeal rugs and odd, foreign trinkets abound on makeshift shelves, and before him sits a strange old woman, hood pulled heavy over her straggling gray hair.

"I-- What was that?"

He sees her cracked, aging lips upturn, gnarled hands placed protectively over a strange orb on the table touching his knees. "I have shown you your future, vampling. Was it to your liking?" Panic rises within his stomach again, and though he does not breathe, he clutches his chest. The smell of incense clogs his nostrils and again, the wave of sick threatens to spill forth. Wretched taste of metallic, aged blood sits heavy on his tongue, all sensation too much-- all of it too much.

"No-- No, that cannot be it!"

"This is your path, Pale Elf. The road you walk. The power you seek is well within your grasp, but as I told you before, it will cost you everything."

He vehemently shakes his head, denying it. Denying it before her and all the Gods.

"You told me upon entry that no price was too great for your reward. Do you still agree with this sentiment?"

"No! Not-- not her. Not her. Not that! I couldn't--"

"You can and you shall, sure as the moon follows the sun. You will have everything you ever wanted, but cost of this ritual is plain before you. You cared not for the many souls left to your mercy that are crushed beneath your tyrannical fist in your ascension, but what of the sole one that resides in your heart?"

Her. The light of his life. The air he breathes. The sun on his frigid flesh, the warmth that melts his icy heart.

"No," He hisses, trying to stand, but ultimately unable to muster the strength. "I won't! There-- There must be another way. Show me!"

"There is no other way," She says, solemnly. "It is inevitable."

He swallows down the information like a boulder lodged in his gullet. Her words echo endlessly in his mind, bouncing off the walls and lodging shards of ice directly in his soul.

"What if I-- What if I don't ascend? Tell me, what if I don't?"

She smiles again, teeth flashing through her thin lips. "That is another path, little elf." "I need to know. I-- I need certainty. I won't do this to her, but I--" He pauses, grappling with everything in his mind, desperately flitting about to absorb it all. "If I am going to forgo this, I need to be certain. I need to know that I can protect her, that she will be safe--"

But the woman simply shakes her head.

"Everyone must choose. For some, the path is dark, but for you, you see more than most will ever have the comfort of knowing. I can offer you nothing more. Should you initiate the Rite, you know this will come to pass. I can tell you nothing more if you choose to not. The future is yet unwritten, and the quill resides in your hands." "Then why can I not have both!" He slams a fist on the table, clawing at the soft wood. For the first time in ages, tears prick at his pale lashes and frustration wells a knot in his throat. "Why--" "Because one path is wholly your own, while the other is a tangled web, such is the nature of deals with the Hells. You will get everything you ever wanted and lose everything that made it worth having."

His head slumps, defeated and miserable. Silvery tears slide down the curves of his cheeks, even as he attempts to bite them back. He thought he would find comfort in knowing the future, but all it has given him is utter horror.

"Despair not," She continues. "Yes, you will wither under the sun, an eternally cursed dweller of the night, but all is not lost, is it? The one you love, will she stray from your side?" "I wanted her to have better than that," He sniffles, needling his lip with a fang. "I cannot brave the sun, but her-- She deserves better than that-- better than me."

"And what of what she feels?"

His brows furrow, and he peers up at the woman from tear-beaded lashes.

"You are a night walker; it is in your nature to be selfish. But love is not selfish, little vampling. You must fight your nature, your inherent self-loathing, or your love will always find the fire. What of what she desires?"

"She loves me," He says with absolute certainty. "And I--" "Do you love her?"

"Yes," He hisses, almost insulted that she would ask. "More than anything. I'm here, aren't I?"

"Then the rest matters naught. If you love her, you will allow her the agency to choose-- something you deny her as an ascendent. You must grow past your own follies. To love is to be vulnerable, and you must allow both yourself and her this freedom."

They are hard words to swallow, and yet, he feels the truth resound in them. She would not leave his side, even as he tried to force her to understand. Even as an instrument of his manipulation and schemes came to light, she stood steadfast with him, hand entwined in his, ready to face the fire together.

"I-- I need to know she will be safe."

Again, the woman shakes her head. "You cannot. You must fight fate if you wish to overturn it. You face dire odds, though throwing the dice in your favor now will doom you later should this outcome be the confirmation of your fears."

He sighs, face crinkling as he sniffs once more, summoning the willpower to swallow down the agony of his choice. He finds the strength in his legs to push himself upward from the chair, weak and shaking as a newborn fawn as he does so. "I will do whatever I need to. Anything."

"Then you may yet see this through."

He can hear the fanfare of the circus outside, the bawdy bards strumming away on their lutes and banging on drums, the elated screams of the children and their parents. Facing the light now seems impossible, but he must find his way home to her-- he has to be with her now now now--

"The coin first, boy."

He snaps out of his delirium only long enough to fish his hands into one of his pockets, bringing out a coin. Aged and neglected, the sinister engraving of a skull peers up at him from his palm, ruby eyes gleaming in the light as he tosses it into the woman's knobbily-jointed hands.

"Best of luck to you, night-child," She tucks it away. "We may yet meet again." "No offense, but I hope not."

"Me too, Little Star."

He pays little mind to the bustling streets and bursting taverns of Baldur's Gate, his feet carrying him back to camp as swiftly as his body will allow. It takes him until sundown even as he damn near jobs, ripping through the tree line and into the ruins with the intensity of a man starved.

"Astarion!" Karlach greets him, trying to wave him over. "I've got a bet with Gale about--" "Where is she?" Astarion immediately cuts her off, looking around frantically.

"Who?" Karlach raises a brow.

"Who else?" Wyll crosses his arms, looking intrigued at Astarion's intensity.

"Oh! In her tent, I think. Why? Gotcha a special something' in town for her, eh?" Karlach tries to rib at him, but he pushes past her without a second glance.

"Bet it's a fancy new dress he needs to tear off of her immediately," Karlach rolls her eyes before returning to her business.

He bursts into her tent to find her hunched over a book, tongue poking from between her teeth, as she scans over the page. This only lasts a few seconds before he scrambles onto the bed, squeezing her as tightly as he can manage, burying his nose into her hair, tears brimming in his eyes once more.

"Woah, hey!" She laughs, carefully setting her book aside, trying to discern what in the hells he is mumbling endlessly into her neck.

Need you-- need you-- love you-- can't lose you-- don't ever--

She hushes him, realizing something has gone terribly, terribly wrong, kissing his head and tugging him close. "Hey, what's wrong?"

She tries to cup his cheeks and bring his face up but he adamantly refuses, hard-swallowing the urge to bawl into her shoulder with every ounce of willpower he has. All he can manage is to cling to her, half sobbing, visions of that terrible future swimming in his head. He cannot let it come to pass, he will not--

And she holds him, cradling him in her arms, hushing him gently. Her face creases with worry, running her hands through his silvery hair as he pulls him into her lap.

"Little Star, what's wrong? You seem so upset. What can I do to make you happy, my love?"

"Is it done?" Ulma leans down as she enters the tent, carefully dodging the intricate tassels of the blanket strewn over the entryway.

"It is," The strange old woman replies, still rubbing the coin with her worn thumb.

"And?"

"I showed him nothing but truth," She says quietly. "I did not manipulate his vision. Only channeled it."

"That tells me nothing. I need to know if our children are safe."

"I cannot tell you this, Ulma. You know of the ways of our tribe; our relationship with these magics." Ulma's lips purse, her exasperation evident in her humorless expression. "I need to know--"

"His reaction was genuine. That was not my doing. He knows the price of power. I cannot tell you if he will pay it regardless," The old woman's head lifts, a slight mischievous smile playing on her lips. "But I can tell you what I think."

"And what do you think?"

"I have seen his soul-- the heart of it. I believe you will see our children yet. He will spare our heart to spare his own in kind. It beats in that woman," Her eyes twinkle in the low candlelight, a genuine smile widening across her cheeks. "I believe he can find redemption yet."

#morgana and friends #astarion #astarion spoilers #astarion x reader #astarion x tav #heh that last one messed yall up huh #heres a fix for it #SUPER sappy FYI #SO ENJOY!#I don't usually write sap (or angst) so I am bad at this #sorry its bad fellas #I GENUINELY could not think of a way for him to fix him becoming her cazador so uh #have a retconn #call this a fast fixer upper lmao

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reiderwriter · 2 months

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Okay but, flirty reader majority pointed at Reid, and the scene where he has to get hosed down and says "I'mma bout to get naked, I don't think you wanna see that" and reader's just like raising her hand and says "don't worry I'll stay". And after she walks out to go to the hospital and sees everyone and with an open mouth and wide eyes just goes " woah" cause big dick energy

A/N: Hi, thank you so much for your request! I've been a bit sick lately, so I haven't had a chance to write much, but this was fun and quick to write! I might do a part 2 with the actual smut in the future, so if that's something people would want let me know in the comments!!

Warnings: suggestive content, public dirty talk?

“I really want to see that.”

You heard the words but weren't sure where they'd come from for the longest time. It had been a confusing morning, with a high alert for anthrax and your coworker trapping himself inside a contaminated lab to save you from dying a presumably very painful death, you couldn't be blamed for not realizing that you'd said the words in question.

He'd meant the words sarcastically, of course, and they'd warned Morgan off immediately with a chuckle and a “You better survive this, kid,” but you'd stood rooted to the earth until he'd repeated them again.

“Y/N, they're going to strip me down. You don't want to see that.”

“I really do, though.” Your eyes unabashedly trailed down the contours of his body, soaked from the hoses currently decontaminating him. You could've sworn that he was moving in slow motion as his hand pushed back his hair and cleared his face of water.

If there weren't this many CDC agents around, you'd have likely joined him in his impromptu shower to feel your way along the lines of his clothing, checking to see what was outline and what was the thick layers of shirt and pants that unfortunately still obstructed your view.

Another minute of you ogling him went by before your eyes finally returned to anywhere near his, and you realized that your desire for the man could no longer pass for camaraderie.

“You better not die, Spencer. Not before I can enjoy the meal I'm about to sample.”

His doctors were either ignoring the conversation completely or were busy focusing on other things, and luckily, they didn't react to your words. Other than to take Spencer's temperature one more time when he flushed bright red, and stared at you slack-jawed.

“We're going to have to speed this along, Doctor Reid. Please start unbuttoning your shirt,” one of the hazmatted men said to him, but his eyes were fixed on you.

“Yes, please do, Spencer. It's for your own good. And mine.”

You expected him to blush and fawn again, but his day had been as long and confusing as your own, so you were unsurprised when he looked you directly in the eye and began unbuttoning his shirt. You watched his descent, and your breath faltered, seeing the water drip down his bare skin now.

“I'm not sure which of us is wetter right now,” you tried to joke in earnest, but you felt a sharp jolt of lust in your gut as soon as his hands reached his belt.

“Y/N, you need to leave now. Before you make this any harder for everyone here.” The innuendo in his words were clear, but you were thankful again for the considerate and/or oblivious doctors either side of him bagging up his discarded shirt and jacket.

“Only if you promise I can make your life as hard as I want to when you're in the clear.” You smiled again, hoping the full force of your lust would reach him. Spencer was always oblivious to genuine flirtation, you'd observed enough women throwing themselves on him (had discouraged a few too many with a hand on his arm and a finger playing with the abandoned curls at the back of his neck, too) to know that for sure.

You needed to make your need for him explicit.

“I mean it, Spencer. I really mean it.”

His eyes locked with yours for the last time ad you made to turn around, doing your best to convince him without becoming distractedly horny.

“I know. I'll see you at the hospital.”

“At the hospital? Risky, I like it.” You winked and turned away, leaving him calling back after you as you walked over to the car Derek had pulled around the front of the property.

“Wait, not the hospital! Those beds aren’t comfortable. Y/N! Y/N, really!”

You giggled as you sat down in the car, but you bubbled with anticipation still.

#spencer reid #criminal minds #spencer reid x reader #spencer reid fanfic #mgg #spencer reid smut #criminal minds fanfiction #criminal minds fandom #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer reid criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader smut #spencer reid x y/n

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eunoiathewriter · 1 year

Text

X. THORPE X F!READER

Sypnosis: She smiled, and it became his favourite thing.

Word count: 5.3k

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3

It was becoming harder and harder to actually focus on what he was saying. Every few seconds, he would have to run his hand through his hair to push it away from his face as it fell in his eyes. Did he not have a hair tie? He usually did, so why, of all days, did he not have one now when his hair seemed to be the biggest bother of them all? Not even the way he spoke of Tyler could make her think he was more of a bother than his own hair.

To anyone around, it would not seem as though she listened to what she was told, as she just focused on a spot in front of her and let him talk. But she was, truly. Listening was one of the things she was best at, and she really wanted to hear Xaviers' reasons for why he disliked Tyler so much. Seeing as she had yet to meet him, she wanted to understand why he found the guy annoying and often rolled his eyes whenever she mentioned her sister just saying something about him.

If y/n ever told Xavier that Wednesday had been to talk to Tyler, he would scoff, then just tell her he was an asshole, idiot, bitch—or just whatever bad word he could come up with to call him. She would never admit it out loud, but she had labeled Tyler as an asshole ever since Xavier called him one.

After spending so much time together, the two quickly became close. Xavier had been intrigued by her since she came to Nevermore with Wednesday. He was intrigued by the fact that she did not appear to show much emotion on the surface, but as he got to know her, he discovered that she cared for people more than most people realized.

On the other hand, y/n had been pretty reserved in the beginning. She always eyed the tall boy strangely whenever he talked to her, and there was a certain kind of caution in her about actually getting to know someone. He had yet to learn why she had been so wary at first.

Now, Xavier had not noticed how quiet she had been for the past few minutes. He was too busy shittalking Tyler to notice. The fact that y/n wanted to listen and had said, "Please enlighten me. I'm genuinely curious as to why." So seeing as she had finally asked him to tell why, he had started off just telling how Tyler and his friends had destroyed his mural and jumped him. That slowly turned into a rant about everything he found annoying with him that had now gone on for the past five minutes.

Xavier had not gotten any kind of implication that she listened anymore. The silence that had become all too noticeable from her, as well as the looks they had received from fellow students, were not unnoticed. Just to kind of get an idea if she seemed to listen, he leaned forward to see her face. She was indeed just staring into space.

He let out a sigh that made her blink, turning to see that he had stopped talking and running his hand through his hair for the hundredth time. "And you're not paying attention, are you?"

Turning, he saw that she was now looking at him, blinking, and in her eyes he could see the confusion that did not fall upon her face.

"Who said that I'm not? Because I most certainly have been paying attention." It wasn't that she hadn't listened; she just thought it better to stay quiet and let people talk without disturbing them.

"What have I even been talking about then?" His tone was challenging; he was leaning forward and maintaining eye contact with her the whole time, a smug smile on his face.

"You started by explaining why you dislike Tyler, but then you just started mentioning everything that irritates you about him, which was about twelve different things, and all while doing so, your hair has been bothering you."

"So you did listen," It was not actually a question to be answered, yet he got one either way.

"Yes, I did." She paused for just about a second. "I have to admit that you constantly having to fix your hair was quite irritating."

"I don't have a hair tie." Even if he knew he didn't have one, he looked down at both his wrists just to make sure and felt through his pockets, seeing if one had magically appeared (though that wouldn't be a surprise, this was Nevermore after all.)

"Here." Turning his head back at the sound of her voice, he was met by y/n holding up a black hair tie in front of him to take. This caused him to take a second look at her; she looked at the hair tie and then up at him, silently telling him to take it.

"Thanks," Was he feeling cocky about seeing just the slightest of hesitation in her eyes while she looked at him? Yes, he surely did.

Their fingers were brushing as he took the hair tie from her, but as soon as Xavier had a grip on the hair tie, she quickly retracted her hand. With a smirk, Xavier gathered up the top part of his hair into a half-up, half-down style just to get the most annoying part of his hair away from his face.

"If your hair is being such a bother, maybe you should consider cutting it." It came out so suddenly that his hands just dropped from tightening the hair tie, and he turned to her with a questioning look. He thought she liked his hair as it was; at least Ajax said that's what Enid had told him.

"I sure hope there's an and—or a but to that." Xavier was able to detect just the tiniest bit of hesitation in her, as she seemed to have an and or but to that suggestion.

Swallowing hard, she could feel herself struggling to come up with the words to say it. This was what Enid had said: compliments can be a good start, but y/n was not one who ever really gave compliments. Plus, if she had gotten to know one thing about Xavier, it was that anything that would, in his ears, be considered a compliment was going to boost his ego. as if he didn't already have a bit of an ego.

"But," Turning just slightly to face him, there was already an amused smirk growing on his face. Her cheeks were growing increasingly hotter. "I don't think you should, because I like it as is."

"What would you do if I did cut it, though?" Yes, this was feeding into his ego a bit more, but to be honest, his insides were feeling as if butterflies flapped their wings a bit harder than they usually did. y/n looked around at the people in the courtyard while thinking about the question, also looking for the three others that were to join them.

"You would be six feet under."

"Oh, that's how much you actually like my hair." It was really amusing for Xavier to torture her like this, as somehow he could make out that she was getting a bit flustered by all this. He stood at his full height and poked her sides, making her jump and squirm.

"Stop that," y/n told him while swatting at his hands and being able to smack them a few times when he went to poke her sides even more.

As she struggled to smack his hands away from poking her even more, there was something that made him stop. Her lips had unconsciously pulled into a small smile that made him stop completely. Xavier had actually never really seen her smile; most of the time if she felt a smile pull on her lips, she would cover it up in some way, but this smile was one she had not noticed herself.

Just as he was about to say something about it, she was pulled away from him. Enid had been quick when walking up to the two and hooked her arm with y/n's, pulling her away from standing so close to Xavier. Both of them were taken by surprise.

"y/n!" Enid cheered loudly while holding on to the girl's arm and hugging her, earning a side eye from y/n, who then glanced at Xavier.

"My friend." Enid said, just as Wednesday and Ajax had caught up to them, shooting a glare at Xavier, who simply raised his hands at the werewolf-girl.

"Rude." Before the other two reached them, Xavier just took a last glance at her, trying to see if her smile was still there, but it wasn't. He liked it; the way she smiled made his insides flutter even more.

He wanted—no, scratch that. He needed to see that smile again.

——

Spending time in Jericho was better than being at Nevermore and having classes. No long boring classes about plants, no math, no assignments to do—just a day where all students could take a break from school. And sure, some of the work they could do in Jericho was maybe not the most entertaining, but all of the students from Nevermore saw any work as better than just sitting in school. Most normal people would consider school at Nevermore to be fun and unique, but it was simply a school designed for odd people, such as the Nevermore students, to feel less odd.

It had been Enid, who did not want to stand y/n just sitting around as they worked, telling her she would stab her eyes out with fire irons while being bored, who had given her the idea. So Enid told the Addams girl about a certain tall, blonde-brunette boy who was probably bored out of his mind at the Weathervane Cafe (it was a desperate attempt to get them together); she knew he would be; Xavier told her that Tyler worked there, so it would not really be his favourite thing ever. So that was where she was heading.

It was slightly cold outside, being autumn and all. The winds that blew the leaves around made it colder as she walked down the pavement of Jericho, seeing the cafe sign only about a hundred feet in front of her. When she finally arrived at the door, she did not hesitate to push it open, allowing herself to be engulfed by the warmth from within.

It was calm; not too many people were there; only about ten other people were there. There were a few duos that conversed with one another while simultaneously sipping on their coffee, tea, or whatever they were drinking. Four of the other ten people sat alone, one of them an elderly man who sat in one of the corners with a cup of black coffee and a brownie while reading the newspaper.

She took off her jacket, as it was warm enough inside without it. The cafe was placed just perfectly in town, as one could look out the windows and see the town just outside. The smell of coffee was the most noticeable of all, something y/n did not care for because she found the bitterness unpleasant.

Walking around the counter so she could look at all the drinks and things they sold, she found that there was no one at all behind the counter.

The calm was soon broken, however, when someone working there walked in, though it was not Xavier but a boy with shorter, curly hair. Something to know about y/n was that when she was out and about, she would not have her eyes completely relaxed so as to not seem so closed off, even though her voice wouldn't be the most expressive one, just to make people not feel as though they passed her off.

"Hello, is there anything I could get you?" The boy behind the counter gave her a slight smile, prompting her to mentally repeat what Enid had suggested she try.

"Hot chocolate, with some whipped cream and marshmallows." The boy behind the counter nodded and took out a mug to start making her drink, but she just turned around with a question on her mind, and y/n noticed he wanted to ask something. "Yes?"

"It's just that you remind me of someone I know," Her eyes narrowed in response to his statement. "Ehm, what's your name?"

"y/n Addams." He had just gone back to start making her drink and once again turned back to where she stood on the other side of the counter.

"You're Wednesday's sister, she's told me about you." Not true; she hadn't told him about him, just mentioned her sister. She knew that much about her sister. But, even if she didn't seem to care all that much, family was the one thing she cared about and only ever seemed to care about her. But Wednesday would never tell anybody just all about y/n, she knew that.

y/n realised who she was speaking with. The boy with whom Wednesday only briefly conversed and interacted. But he was the one who jumped Xavier with his friends. Okay, so you know what I said earlier about y/n already labelling Tyler as an asshole because of Xavier? Yeah, that still remains. She let her eyes that she had keept a bit less relaxed, finally, relax which made her whole expression change. Only Tyler appeared to be unconcerned.

"That means you are Tyler." Her eyes flickered over to a figure coming into her view, someone that Tyler could not see.

As soon as y/n mentioned her name, the blond-brunette in the back perked up from his sulking over having to work with Tyler. With furrowed brows, he had walked in behind the counter and now stood about twelve feet behind Tyler, leaning against the wall. Xavier knew that she had seen him enter, and just for the heck of it, he crossed his arms and waited to see how long it would take for Tyler to notice he was there.

"Yeah, yeah. Your sister has mentioned me?" It was a miracle he didn't notice her averting her gaze to Xavier with a questioning look in her eyes before returning her gaze to Tyler.

"Yes, my sister..."

Just as he was about to say something more, Tyler finally caught on that y/n were looking at someone behind him. Turning around, he saw Xavier leaning against the wall, arms crossed, with an annoyed look on his face. He raised a brow at the curly haired boy before looking at y/n who was looking between the two boys.

"You two know each other?" Tyler finally spoke as he turned to y/n; the question was directed at her, but it seemed that Xavier was about to answer, though y/n did not let him even utter a word before answering.

"Yes, he is my friend," y/n said after a brief pause. "And told me all about you."

Right then and there, Tyler realised why she had gone from looking a little tired to having a completely annoyed face when looking at him. Her tone signalled to him that she was hinting at just what he thought it to be. For him, it was awkward.

Finally having enough, Xavier pushed off the wall and walked towards where Tyler was behind the counter, clearly using his height as intimidation. "I'll just take this."

"Oh yeah.." With a glance at each of them, Tyler swiftly walked to start cleaning up some tables from previous customers that had left.

"Well," Xavier said, leaning forward on the counter, which she stood on the other side of. "Have you made your own assessment of him?"

"Asshole." That was all y/n said, and it made the boy in front of her chuckle, which in turn had an effect on y/n as her lips tugged into a smile at the sound of his laughter.

"You are right about that." Looking back up at her with a smile, his eyes flickered to her lips at the sight of her smile once more.

It was as if, for the past week, he had been playing "find the smile" on her. Trying to catch every smile she'd ever give, he'd seen about eight so far, nine including this one. She was good at hiding most of them. It was something about the way he smiled that he couldn't quite put his finger on, but it felt important. The fact that y/n seemed not to know that she did smile and that every time she did, he got to enjoy it.

"What are you doing here, either way?" Shaking his head, he asked just to come back to reality.

"To cut a long story short, there was an issue with the number of volunteers, so I couldn't work with Enid and my sister at Pilgrim World. Enid said I should go and spend time with someone who I actually enjoy spending my time with, so here I am."

"Oh, so you do enjoy spending time with me. Good to know I wasn't imagining it then." Her smile was still present on her face, which made this the longest she had ever held a smile.

"If I didn't, then me and Wednesday would have spent our first night here enjoying gravedigging. Though that would be fun to do again." y/n trailed in thought as she remembered just how long it was since she and her sister had been gravedigging. They really needed to do that again.

"You know at this point that whenever you say something like that, it's just an empty threat," Xavier pointed out while standing up, pushing off the counter. "You like me too much to do something like that to me. Admit it."

"Will you just make me that hot chocolate of mine that I never got?" y/n sighed, trying to dodge what he had just said. But he would not let it go.

"Not unless you admit that you like me too much to ever carry out your threats against me."

Her jaw tightened in annoyance as she watched him stand back and cross his arms again, waiting for her to admit it.He was gloating at her frustration at having to say it just so she could get that drink. His gloating was also not he was god at hiding, clear as day showing he found satisfaction in making her admit to things she would never say out loud. He had gotten to know her too well.

"Fine.. I like you too much to ever carry out any of my threats. Now can please have my hot chocolate or I'll leave you here alone with Tyler for the rest of the day, Xavier." He did not care for the glare she was shooting him as he got what he wanted, letting out a chuckle once more.

"One hot chocolate is coming right up."

——

Music played softly in the background. y/n had just switched from one song on Xaviers' playlist to another as she felt the previous one was not one she could read to. Xavier didn't mind; he let her know the password to his phone for a reason—he wanted her to also enjoy the music being played and not just him. She just put his phone on the bench in his shed and turned back to her book.

This had all been Xaviers' idea. He had slowly wanted to spend more and more time with y/n, starting to steal her away from Enid and Wednesday, much to Enid's distaste. The werewolf girl had made it very clear to him that "I'm watching you, Thorpe." Not that he felt too threatened by the blond, as it was more Wednesday that he was a bit more worried about. Seeing as she was already keeping a close eye on them, she often narrowed her eyes at Xavier when he came and asked if y/n wanted to come with him.

Anyway, it had all been his idea. y/n knew about his shed, where he spent most nights painting, she had been there quite a few times with him, and he enjoyed the company. He would be painting, sketching, or just doing whatever as y/n would sit with a book in hand, engulfed in the story as they always had music on in the background too.

Today was like any other time when Xavier asked if she wanted to come to the shed with him. He had just simply asked after dinner if she wanted to, and as always, he got a yes. They had simply just done a turn for the girls' dorm, where y/n had gone inside her, Enid, and Wednesday's shared dorm and taken the book she had just started reading.

It was always amusing to Xavier because whenever they went to Y/N's dorm so she could get a book and he was waiting outside, he would hear Y/N threaten Enid. Then Enid would say something as y/n opened the door once more before being cut off again by the door closing. It was always amusing to him.

Today, though, Xavier did have a motive for bringing her out to his shed.

Again he turned his head just to get a glimpse at y/n as she read her book, then took a look back at his canvas, so far he had gotten the general shape. Inspiration had been low when they first got there about an hour earlier (they got there much later than they usually did as it was slowly pulling towards curfew), but her just sitting there, reading on, gave him something to paint. He would of course tell her when he had started to actually get to the details so as not to spook her, but first he just wanted to get in a rough sketch of her.

y/n had just gotten to page 393. Oliver and James, the characters in her book, were backstage between two acts. Oliver demanded knowing the truth, and it was keeping y/n on edge as James was quiet and did not answer. That confirmed it all; it was him, and it made y/n gasp, causing Xavier to turn his head.

He raised his brows at her, an affectionate smile on his lips as he watched her. "What?"

"James just confessed to Richard's murder, though Richard deserved it."

"Okay, I'm going to pretend I know what's going on in your book." He turned back to the canvas to do his own. But he still found the way she had gasped at the book cute.

"The character accidentally killed the asshole character, and the police have just found out and are there to arrest him." It was a simple explanation, but it gave him the least bit of understanding for what was happening in her book. She had only about thirty pages left, so I could not wait much longer until she was done.

"Interesting." Xavier nodded while just adding a bit of simple lining for the background of the painting. "Could you switch to that Russian song?"

"Which? I know more than one Russian song." She put down her book and took up his phone once more, tapping in the password.

"You know, that one you found when you and Ajax were looking for music."

"Are you referring to Molchat Domas тоска?" Without even waiting for an answer, she put on the song and turned to see if it was the right one. He gave it a thumbs up to indicate that it was the correct song. But he didn't turn away from the canvas, staring at it intensely to see if everything was to his liking (which it was).

y/n leaned on the stool she had been sitting on while reading to see the canvas, seeing just an outline or idea for what he was going to paint. She was completely unaware that it was her. "Even now, I know it will look excellent once you're done."

She did not think much of it and picked up her book once more to read the last few pages of it and see what the outcome was. Would Oliver and James see one another again now that Oliver was set free after doing his time?

For Xavier, however, the comment was more than just a passing thought. Because he knew she didn't often compliment people, he was completely taken aback.Eyeing her.

"You think?" He only got a hum and a nod as an answer to his question, but it did not give him satisfaction.

He then came to realise one thing: he still had his brush in his hand, and it still had wet paint on it. Looking up from the brush in his hand to the girl, whose eyes were darting across the page, she was too preoccupied with what was going to happen next to notice the malicious grin on his face as he raised his hand with the brush in it. Quickly, he flicked his wrist in her direction, causing paint from his brush to splash at her.

She jumped at the sudden sensation of something wet splashing on her face. Blinking, she raised her hand and wiped her face, only to discover paint on her hand. Turning her gaze up to Xavier, she could see him trying to keep from laughing at her reaction.

"What?" y/n closed her book and stood up, her entire face now a question mark.

"You think it's going to look good when I'm done?" Unbelievable.

"Yes, I just told you that, Xavier." Sometimes she wondered if he was deaf, but deep down she knew that he made her repeat things because he found it amusing.

"Okay, just checking in."

Annoyed that he had gotten paint on the cover of her book, she grabbed the paintbrush from his grasp and did the same thing he had done to her, flicking the brush, making it splatter paint on his face. When he opened his eyes and looked down at her, he scoffed and quickly grabbed one of his other brushes, starting to repeatedly flick paint on y/n.

As a result, a paint splashing match ensued. Both of them were flicking paint at one another, and whoever got it on them jumped just slightly at the cold liquid. Then, when both of them stopped, neither of them flicking paint at each other, Xavier quickly looked y/n up and down before reaching out and painting a single stroke with the brush on her cheek.

And they were both on each other once more. They had paint strokes on their faces; Xavier had a few on his shirt; their arms; and they both had paint splatters in their hair. It was fun, with Xavier laughing as y/n was able to do one long stroke on his cheek just before he could smack her hand away. And she was smiling, a smile that was all too strong to be held back, and it did not go unnoticed by herself. She felt it, but smiling always felt good when it had something to do with Xavier.

Finally, Xavier had enough and dropped his brush on the floor, not really caring, and to stop y/n he grabbed a hold of her wrists, holding onto her and keeping her from getting more paint on him, but his hold on her wrists was gentle.

"Okay, that's enough." He could feel her struggle a little in his hold on her wrists, but his focus was on her smile. She did not directly look at him, but she smiled, and this time it was obvious that she was very aware of it.

Looking up at him, her arms relaxing in his grip, she was met by his green eyes, which were already watching her. Her eyes flickered between his, unsure of what to do. She panicked inside as this was new territory she was stepping onto. But then it hit her how short it was until curfew, and she turned her head, seeing that darkness had started taking over the outside world.

"I should go before curfew," y/n mumbled, but just as she went to pull away from him, Xavier pulled her directly back.

It surprised her when his hands went from holding her wrists to holding either side of her face. His hands had a few undried patches of paint that transferred over to her face. But she didn't care. The way she was holding her face made her look up at him; it was hard to look anywhere else. "You should smile more."

Xavier studied her face, which both had brushstrokes and paint splatters here and there, much like his also had, stroking his thumb against her cheekbone before leaning down a little just to place a kiss at the crown of her head. Not wanting to go all too fast.

y/n just stood there and let him, feeling a warmth inside her even when he pulled away and smiled a little. Seeing just the tiniest bit of shock in her eyes.

"I don't want to get you in trouble, so go." He noticed she only paused for a second before returning to reality, turning to the table, and taking her book. It was amusing yet adorable to watch the pure confusion on her face.

She turned and looked at him before walking out of his shed and back to her dorm. A genuine smile was on his face. "Goodnight, Xavier."

"Night, y/n." Something was waiting for her in her dorm, or it should have been. Otherwise, a certain hand was going to do some shit.

Reaching her dorm, confusion was still painted on her face, but as soon as she entered, y/n was met by a bouncing Enid who jumped up and down. Taking her out of the trance that Xavier had put her in, so many rushed words were coming out of Enid's mouth, and she was clearly excited about something. Spotting her sister standing off to the side, it took her just a moment to understand what was going on.

"Oh my god, y/n! Look at your bed! Look at your bed!" It was the first words Enid said to y/n taht she could detect as the blond hurriedly pushed her towards her bed.

"What is going on?" y/n asked her sister, mind still elsewhere.

"Just do as she says," Wednesday was clearly tired by the way she motioned for her to follow Enid over to her own bed.

So she did, and her bed was indeed so etching to look at—something she hadn't noticed before on her perfectly made bed. There laid a necklace, a silver one. Thing picked it up for her, holding it out for her to take, and he nodded at the hand that just stood on her bed. Behind her, Enid was looking over her shoulder at the necklace. It was silver with a peal in a little thing. There was only a single note that read: to y/n.

Enid squeaked beside her out of happiness as Wednesday took the necklace out of her hands to inspect it closer. "Oh my god, you have a secret admirer!"

"How did it get in here? It was not there before, correct?" Wednesday handed the necklace back to y/n.

"Correct," She wanted to say what she thought out loud but bit her own tongue just as Enid stopped spinning around and flopped down on her own bed. Babbling on and on about something that again just became distant words. All the while, Wednesday seemed to also have her own thoughts on it. y/n smiled at the necklace.

It was something Xavier had wanted to see, but this had been the easiest way to do it.

He got a bit more out of the night than just being able to get that necklace to her.

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kneelingshadowsalome · 4 months

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Genuinely so obsessed with the ask you answered about reader being associated with König’s childhood bullies and coming back years later to try and make amends……. I need the angst, the drama, the nasty disgusting degrading sex, the absolute turmoil on both of their parts 😭 I am starving for this, the way you portray König especially there is exactly how I’ve always envisioned him in my mind!!!!!! And then with reader desperately trying to make him happy now out of guilt and her crush that’s grown 10x since she saw him in school, delusionally hoping and believing there’s a *relationship* between them and she can fix what she thinks she allowed to happen back then 10 years after the fact, while König is constantly fighting himself to not fall for reader despite his own buried crush resurfacing, and convincing himself he’s only using her to release stress and tension after assignment while simultaneously holding so much resentment for her and her sheer proximity to the people that tormented him back then, I am foaming at the mouth for the toxic dynamics to be found there !!!!!!!!! The old him begging to fulfill some childish need to have her, while this new monstrous version of himself only wants to watch her suffer to repent for how he had to suffer !!!!!!!!!!!!

I know right?! I’m obsessed with this too!

I’m so here for the toxic relationship dynamic (sue me), also me and @bucca2/@wordstome had a whole conversation about this yesterday because König would bend over backwards to self sabotage this shit.

(The following is mainly a summary from our brainstorm session from last night + I have bucca to thank for the precious meme at the end, it’s König in a nutshell with his high school crush lol)

First of all our girl is sooo in love. She was in love when they were young, but now? She’s a goner, König is out of this world. He's so handsome, so confident, the epitome of cool if there ever was one... and God, would you look at those muscles?

Now she can finally drool all over him but back then, what was she to do? As the shy one of the clique, she always tried to avoid attention; she could never have endured what König did. Perhaps it was cowardly of her, but she really was just scared. She could only dream about him from afar, and in her dreams, they would both change schools due to their parents moving or something... Ending up in the same area, finally getting to be together like it was a miracle, Deus ex Machina.

Her silly dreams never came true, but it looks like they're coming to fruition now. And this time, she's going to make everything better! Now that they're both grown up and free from their tormentors she can finally admit that she has feelings for him, feelings that are only sparked fast aflame when she sees the man he has become.

And König can’t stand it.

Where was she when he was odd and scrawny? Where was she when he cried himself to sleep over her?? Of course she wants him now that he’s big, independent and menacing, an odd nerd who discovered guns and gym... He thought she was better than this.

Deep inside, he’s still like this:

...but we just need to forget about it because König is NOT going to fold for this girl.

He’s not.

And the sex is so NASTY. Bordering on degrading, König wants to be a gentleman when it comes to ladies, but this one? This one he wants to fuck like he paid for her. She brings out the beast in him, and he finds himself asking her to get on her knees and blow his cock on some filthy cruise... Fucks her like he doesn’t love her, and she’s absolutely lovestruck, when did König become so mean? (God, that she loves him)

Trying not to fall in love with her (as if he ever fell out), König is so incredibly mad at this girl – is this what she wanted this whole time? A buff jerk who fucks her doggystyle until her knees bleed, who gives her the bare minimum, who barely even calls her when he’s away? (He has to physically restrain himself from doing that because of course he’d like to hear her pick up the phone with pure hope in her voice)

While changing his tactics and devising a plot to make her pay, König doesn’t even understand that he’s falling fast for her again while becoming now (seemingly) the best version of himself. It's only to dump her later, of course. He's just being nice so that she'll cry over losing him later. He brings her flowers, eats her out for hours, getting sick satisfaction from the way she cries about how it’s the best sex she’s ever had. He’s going to bring her to her knees, in more ways than just one... She’s going to remember him for the rest of his life when he rearranges her guts, ruining her for any other man.

König is becoming the thing he hates the most while she’s learned her lesson, now wearing her heart on her sleeve. No more shame and secrets, she’s not afraid to tell him how she feels! How she always had a small crush on him… And not even that small… How she loved to hear his presentations, no matter what silly subject they were about because he had actually done his research. How she could’ve swooned when his voice changed. After a short breaking period, he started to talk lower than anyone else in the class, earning himself more of that bullying because he sounded so manly at such a young age.

König is about to burst a blood vessel when hearing all this: she had a crush on him back then? What the actual fuck??

And then come the cuddles, the slow mornings, the coffee and toast, the showering together… She leaves her toothbrush in his place, and it stares at him accusingly from the side of the sink. She wears his t-shirts and looks absolutely gorgeous, mouth-watering and sweet in them. His sexy little minx, the one who didn’t get away…

Wait, what? No. No. No!

And when his high school sweetheart confesses her love for him for the first time, she's so open and vulnerable and sweet about it. Like she has been from the start, his sweet, sweet girl, exactly the kind of woman he always wanted to bring home to see his mom. König is about to lose his mind when she tugs at his shirt, almost cries when she says how much she loves him and couldn’t bear to live without him… She would cry herself to the grave if anything ever happened to him…

(König is like:)

#könig angst #könig fluff #mmm this is so nasty and delicious #they're practically soulmates #collaborating with other writers #könig x highschool sweetheart

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cheeseanonioncrisps · 1 year

Text

So like, it's okay to be good and nobody is born evil and anyone can change the path they're on, yadda yadda yadda, but I actually think one of the biggest lessons Megamind learns over the course of the film is the shocking revelation that actions have consequences.

I'm not even kidding. When you put aside the whole 'evil' thing, one of Megamind's biggest flaws is his entirely screwed up notion of cause and effect.

Like, the whole reason the plot happens is because it apparently never occurred to Megamind that 'carrying out elaborate plots to kill Metroman' could ever result in 'dead Metroman'. Nor that creating a new hero with the specific motivation of defeating him, Megamind, could lead to negative consequences for him, Megamind. Or that riling said hero up into a murderous rage could have the unforeseen consequence of that hero raging around murderously.

Dude spent at least a few years kidnapping Roxanne, threatening her with alligators and lasers and various other villainous knick-knacks, only to disguise himself as somebody else and lie to her until she fell in love with this fake identity he'd created and is genuinely shocked when she is upset upon finding this out.

Not just that she did find out, but that post-her finding out he is unable to talk her into continuing the relationship.

“We don't judge a book by its cover or a person by their appearance… we judge them based on their actions.”

“Seems kinda petty, don't you think?”

Megamind may be a genius when it comes to inventions and evil plans, but he's a fucking idiot when it comes to predicting and anticipating the obvious results of his actions.

And thing is, it makes total sense why he would be like that.

He spent his childhood being consistently punished by the adults in his life, often for no reason that he could understand or even for no reason at all. As a result, he stops viewing punishment as a consequence of his behaviour and starts seeing it as a consequence of him being 'evil', which of course leads to him leaning into his evil persona and eventually becoming a supervillain.

And, as a supervillain, ironically enough, he's completely sheltered from consequence by his greatest enemy, Metroman.

Megamind doesn't need to worry about his evil plans hurting any citizens, because Metroman will use his powers to save them. Megamind doesn't have to worry about the damage he does to the city, because Metroman can fix it.

Megamind does in theory have to worry about social consequences for his behaviour, but the social consequences are being locked in prison and having everybody hate him which is like, the default status quo of his existence since he was a baby.

He literally calls the prison as 'home', a word he does not use to refer to his Evil Lair or indeed anywhere else in the film barring his home planet. Going there is an inconvenience, maybe, but it's not really a punishment. It's where he lives.

Metroman's 'death' changes all that.

Not only does one of Megamind's evil plans finally destroy something that (seemingly) can't be fixed, but he's then turned loose on the city with no superhero to run around after him cleaning up his mess.

Now, if he steals all the artwork in the gallery, then Metro City will no longer have artwork in it's gallery, and people (Roxanne) will miss it and be upset. If he doesn't take care to clean the streets then the streets… will be dirty, and people (Roxanne) will be negatively affected.

If he gives a random, unstable, person superpowers and then goes out of his way to piss that person off, then that person can't be guaranteed upon to “play the game” just because that's what Metroman did, and people (Megamind… then everybody else) will be negatively affected.

And the flipside of this is that, by the end of the film, he wins the battle because he realises "hey, I can change this". If his negative actions have negative consequences then he can choose to do the positive thing instead and save the city.

#megamind #megamind meta #megamind analysis

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tiredfox64 · 15 days

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Hello! Sooo I had this idea of a forbidden love story between Bihan and the reader. The reader is a good friend of Liu Kang and was assigned to assist Kaui Liang and Tomas with the Shirai Ryu and becomes friends with them. Despite all that, Bihan was already in love with the reader because she's genuinely a good and innocent person and feels the need to be protective of her while the reader struggles with her feelings because he's now a traitor even though she's attracted to him.

How Could You

Prior notes: Reader: I think I’m in love with Bi-Han. Any thoughts?

Liu Kang: And prayers, you’re going to need them.

Pairing: Bi-Han x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: Angst or even none. I don’t know you decide. I’m not your mom, Tyler!

Bi-Han was many things but you would have never imagined he would be a traitor to Earthrealm. It broke your heart to hear the news from Lord Liu Kang. But that feeling was swept away once he gave you more news.

“Not all hope is lost. Kuai Liang and Tomas have creating a new clan to defend Earthrealm. The Shirai Ryu. Your service is needed as I want you to help their clan grow strong. For now there are no threats but we can never be too careful.” He said.

You have your own mission now. A service to Lord Liu Kang, to the Shirai Ryu, and Earthrealm. But you can’t get over that feeling in your chest. That sorrow of Bi-Han being gone.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Your service was indeed needed. Finding the right initiates was difficult even with the help of Harumi. The only one who was able to bring any hope was Hanzo yet even he needed a lot of work.

Your personality made it easier. Your heart of gold attracted many to come. None wanted to disappoint you. If someone failed and they saw you frown they immediately fixed their errors just to see you smile and cheer them on.

Your need to care for others also helped greatly. If anyone was injured you were quick to patch them up and make sure they were well rested. It quenched people’s worries about being badly hurt and never recovering. If you can care for a little bunny who was only acting hurt for attention, you can take great care of a person.

You also grew closer to Kuai Liang and Tomas. Kuai Liang would have thought this task would be much more difficult even with the help of his wife. Seeing how you brought hundreds to the clan and continue to bring more made you a true gem to him. Tomas especially was grateful of your good deeds. You were useful when training the initiates as you were able to simplify instructions to the others comprehension. If Tomas wasn’t able to make them do what he wanted them to do he would have thrown in the towel way too early.

You even sparked a great relationship with Harumi and Hanzo. Harumi not only appreciated your help when it came to training but housing all the new initiates. You made everyone comfortable and placed them in the rooms they most likely wanted to stay in. You gathered food and helped cook as well. Cooking for hundreds was not an easy task but you were always willing to help and give the healthiest meals. Everyone needed to be in tip top shape. Hanzo, though a rambunctious teenager with great anger, was able to be calmed by your presence. I think he could sense that you have a good heart. You understood his frustration and how he had to survive by being a thief. You reassured him that those days are done and he is in good hands. He will become great and strong, you will make sure of that.

The Shirai Ryu was flourishing. The combined effort of everyone resulted in a fine clan. A clan you felt like could be as great as the Lin Kuei. Things looked up yet you still felt down about Bi-Han’s betrayal. You’re not alone in that and you knew it. You couldn’t let others find out about your feelings. So when the end of the day would come and you were left by yourself, your smile would falter. Tears would prick your eyes. You thought Bi-Han would be good, at least for you.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Bi-Han felt it was necessary to separate his clan from the binds of Lord Liu Kang. But at what cost.

He has earned them infamy which he could never accept. But he was forced to accept the fact that he lost you. He lost the one person who could warm his frozen heart. Hands that would hold his heart and let the ice melt.

Even when you two met there was a strange spark. You would always go next to him yet keep distance as to not upset him. You would say anything and everything to him when he never asked for him. At first he would tell you to shut up and leave him alone. No matter what you always came back. You would be hiding behind a tree and watching him from a distance just to get a glimpse of him.

You never knew why but Bi-Han made you feel things. Maybe it was his handsome face. Or that deep voice that when he grunted you felt something in your stomach. Or his muscles that seemed so fun to touch. Soon enough he started getting the hint.

You know what they say, opposites attract. Though he always found goodness to be a weakness he saw how it benefited. Whenever you visited the Lin Kuei wanted to impress you and so they worked harder than before. All those times Bi-Han would yell at them they never worked harder. But encouragement from you made them into fighting machines. Who would have thought.

Then you started to get real nice to him. That moment when you tucked that piece of loose hair behind his ear he always remembered to keep a loose strand of hair out. He wanted you to do it over and over again. Have your fingertips lightly graze his face and feel how warm you were against his cold skin. You noticed the effect it had on him and used it to your advantage to be closer to him.

He liked, no, loved when you praised him for his skills. It made him feel superior to everyone, including his brothers. Cause he should be superior to them as he was the grandmaster.

Bi-Han was disgusted by the people in his clan when they would make lewd comments about you. Comments about your chest, your hips, your thighs, your everything. Or when they criticize you for being too nice or too much of a goody two shoes. He didn’t know what came over him but he would end up nearly beating them to death during training. They’d act surprised that their grandmaster would do such a thing, nearly crippling some of his best fighters. But when it comes to you it doesn’t matter. He has to protect your honor. He has to protect you from the filthy eyes of lowlifes. You need his protection.

But your innocence. That was quite a shock to him.

Never had a kiss? Not even on the cheek? Well, he fixed that right up. When you confessed to him that you never gotten a kiss from a man he felt it was his duty to fix that. It’s an honor to be kissed by the grandmaster of the Lin Kuei. Even a kiss on the cheek sent you into a spiral. His lips barely touched you! Yet you reacted as if you two had a five minute make out session. Your mouth was shut tight and you placed your forehead on his arm to help cool you down. Bi-Han couldn’t help it, he had a small smirk on his face which he hid from you. He could only imagine how you would have reacted if he did it on the lips.

But he might never know. Because he messed up by being a traitor. Some days he feels like he did the right thing by gaining the Lin Kuei’s freedom. While others he feels anger because he can’t be near you.

When he heard that you were helping the Shirai Ryu he went mad. Anything in his sight was targeted. Spikes made of ice littered the land. Their jagged and cold form matched how he felt in his heart.

Now who will protect you from the filthy pest of the world. Bi-Han doesn’t know where you are. The Shirai Ryu are too good at hiding and that makes them cowards. Someone could take your innocence and what then. His brothers don’t care about you like Bi-Han cares about you. You’re only safe in his arms and in his sight. You must never be left alone with anybody. Filthy men putting their hands on you, that thought alone makes him furious.

You were his light in a gloomy world. Even if you were friends with Lord Liu Kang he saw you as your own person. A victim to Liu Kang who probably has you wrapped around his fingers. You need to be free just like him. Not following orders like you are now. You must be so depressed without him.

In a way you are as you still struggle to accept the situation. You’re no victim however. Even though Liu Kang said you were done with your task a while ago you still continue out of the kindness of your heart. It’s the right thing to do. But you will continue and mourn what could have been.

If only he kept you in mind when Shang Tsung made that horrible offer. None of this would have happened. This shouldn’t have happened.

You’re only left with sadness. You lost someone you were willing to love and change. You were so close to warming Bi-Han’s heart. You warmed it enough that he feels regret for what he has done. But he can’t turn back now. What’s done is done. Maybe in another timeline he was never a traitor. In another timeline you two are together where he can protect you and love you for who you are.

After notes: If I have not satisfied your needs you can force me to eat British Chinese food. Or you can yell at me either one goes, you can even tell me to redo it all. A little bit of a warning I might be silent for one or two days just cause of classes. Literally have to make a 6-8 minute speech about contraceptives in the span of two days. So either it will be backpocket fics, reblogs (I have faith in the 🍊), or nothing. You’ll know when you’ll know. Adiós!

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cattonicdragon · 6 months

Note

Man your work is great :D could you do Astrid hiccup tuffnut ruffnut and snotlout with a small jolly reader(4 feet tall) that riders screaming death or a titan wing catastrophic quaken.(I just like the this short joyful person next a GIANT creature that looks like it squash you like a bug it's just a bit funny to me XD)

Astrid,hiccup,the twins(separately) and snotlout x reader who’s a short ball of joy and rides a screaming death

Decided to do screaming death cus I love them

<<WARNINGS:abit of angst,snotlout not likeing spitelout,mentions of injuries(dragons mainly),snotlout needs a hug,spelling errors probally>>can you tell I don’t know how to do warnings?

HAS BEEN PROOF-READ

Astrid

She is absolutely stunned

Your so tiny.and yet you managed to tame the screaming death

She nearly had a heart attack the first time stormfly and the screaming death play fought,she still nearly dose after she gets used to them

She knows your screaming death won’t hurt stormfly,but as the good dragon rider she is she gets worried for her dragon

She may not admit it but she’s extremely cocky over the fact that one of the dragon riders on their side managed to tame the screaming death,with is defiantly no easy feat 💀

She genuinely questions you on how on earth you managed to tame the screaming death

She’s amused by the size difference between you and your dragon

Little ball of joy and a island destroying demon/pos

Due to your small size she can easily pick you up

She picks you up under your arms and you can only dangle there

You’ll just have to hope your screaming death is feeling nice and might scare Astrid to put you down

Don’t think you being small is all fun though.

Is stormfly is particularly pissed off by the screaming death she will pick you up by the scruff of the neck and run/fly off with you

A chase will ensue,that may or may not have to end up with hiccup and/or having to sort it out

She admires how you can stay so sweet and joyful

She may or may not admit it but she adores your personality,in hard times you can seem like a bright light in a endlessly dark hallway,and she couldn’t be more grateful

Hiccup

Also nearly has a heart attack

The screaming death defiantly had some bad blood with him and toothless

But with you,it’s like a big cat/dog and almost completely docile

How?

Ok well maybe the fact that he made the screaming death plummet face first into a rock wouldn’t help

Your tinny compared to hiccup and even tinier compared to the screaming death

He worries that you may become a large target for dragon hunters

Toothless and the screaming death,don’t exactly get along

I mean years of hatred and bad blood isn’t going to fix easily…

But the you and hiccup will find them curled up together

You don’t understand them but that’s ok

He asks if he can examine the screaming death,or maybe ride it.riding is a less likely option though 💀

He will wince or cringe if he sees any scars or damage he may have caused

He can relate to you being positive and joyful alot

But can also be abit jealous,how can you stay so joyful even in some of the most stressfull situations

He’s so unimaginabley grateful that your there for him during the entire time

You decrease his stress tones

It also feels like a weight off of his shoulders with the burden of having such a great relationship with a endangered and powerful dragon,you’ll stick together and get through it though

He also picks you up,and makes fun of your height.

Ruffnut

Probally one of the only ones who dosnt almost have a heart attack

If anything she’s jealous that you managed to tame such a cool and destructive dragon

Begs asks if she can have a ride just one please?

Will try everything and anything with the screaming death

You will need to supervise 24/7 sorry not sorry

She brags about you all the time

She loves your short size and will toss you over her shoulder/hold you like a log

She’s teases you about your size WAY to much,please tell her to put a sock in it T.T

Barf,belch and the screaming death become the faces of Loki day

Barf and belches personality might have slightly affected your dragon but oh well

Loves to cause distruction with you

If you don’t go on a mission she’s not going either,even if tuffnut begs.

She enjoys your joyful personality and loves that there’s someone that slightly carefree

She also feels like she can be more reckless now that there’s a island destroying dragon on the riders team

You will have to keep an eye on her,or lecture her.either works

Will Loki you hard,unless the screaming death is around.she dosnt want to become 🧀 today thanks

Tuffnut

Also dosnt get a heart attack

Instead he gets destructive zoomies

He begs you,like hands and knees and everything

For one chance to either ride or cause destruction with the screaming death

Jokes on you though if you say yes to either,the other will happen anyways.there’s no winning in this situation sorry

Surprisingly knows when to give the screaming death space

He’s reckless but sensible

Will bribe the screaming death to go on destructive trips constantly

He makes fun of your height,more than ruffnut

Chiken and the screaming death surprisingly get along the best,unlikely but wholesome friendship for the win

Chiken by proxy loves you a lot aswell

So if tuffnut loses chiken he checks you and the screaming death basically first

Somehow carries around a stall with him so you can get to high places when need be

Will kick ruffnut off barf and belch for a ride if you asked

Man Is whipped for you

Don’t leave tuffnut alone with the screaming death though,either he or someone else will die

He at some point becomes something of a second rider to the screaming death,it’s a lot of bribing and treats though and also the fact that he encourages the screaming deaths destructive tendencies

He likes your joyful ness,will also try to bribe you to help him get out of situations he gets himself into

Snotlout

Probally faints during first encounter

Is very worried for everyone’s saftey,it’s a similar situation as to when they took in the injured singetail

Complains a lot about the fact that allowed to bring the SCREAMING DEATH to berk/the edge

He admires you Aton

Your short,shorter then him and look at you go!

Gets a bit jealous of you and may think he’s not good enough

Give him a hug :(

One time during the longest day he ended up snuggling against the screaming death,and survived.after that day they grew abit closer which was sweet

He enjoys your optimism and it’s a good balance since he can be abit pessimistic sometimes

If his dad ever comes to visit and your around he finds himself gravitating towards you,he feels safe with you

Hook fang and the screaming death like tug of war.why?,who knows

They like to play catch with each other aswell,again no idea why

He asks if you want to ride with him and hookfang quite a lot,it’s his way of non verbally getting recognition and validation

He finds himself being a lot less pessimistic when your around and just in general,your jolly personality is infective and effective

He likes to just hug you when he’s feeling down of tired

He picks you up places you in places where you can’t get down easily

He pisses off the screaming death.quite a lot

He likes writing books for you and indulging in your hobbies aswell

Shows you off a ton,as long as you don’t mind though,he doesn’t want to make you uncomfortable

He likes knitting things for you

He also likes it when you both are in the same room,you can be doing something different or even just being quiet,as long as your there he doesn’t mind

He likes to spar alot aswell,but he never lets it get to the point where either of you get hurt

He’s very protective of you despite the fact he dosnt really need to be

He just cares alot

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peachesofteal · 7 months

Note

read dd zombie au as a horror and zombie enthusiast and I had to say this-

what if darling was bitten but somehow "immune"?

she gets bit, symptoms come in but strangely she doesn't turn. she hungers like a zombie but the thought of hurting someone brings her back.

johnny and simon are kinda happy. you're not a zombie! yay! but the blueish bite on your shoulder says otherwise. at night, they tie your hands to your waist and bind your mouth shut, but apart from sleepy shuffling and grumbling, you don't seem to want to eat them.

the bagged mre's they try to feed you make you gag unless it's suspicious patties, so they guessed you were hungry, just not enough to try to eat them.

strongly believe that johnny treats you like a child. hand feeds you your meals that you reluctantly chew on, washes your hair and braids it ( he knows you hate waking up with tangled hair ) even brushes your teeth for you. he does this because you're too weak and tired to do it yourself ( no he doesn't. he does it because he hates seeing you like this, wishes he could cure you, but he can't. so he makes sure you eat and drink. he needs you. )

simon has seen so many people die to the virus that it feels unreal to him. he's still waiting for you to suddenly snap at him. however, watching the way you stare at him and johnny like you genuinely are there, it reassures him. he tries to talk, have conversations with you, make sure you remember. he despises having to leave you, though. he feels that if he take his eyes off you for a second you might pass or turn.

by the two week mark, you're getting better. the dark circles under your eyes are fading and the hollow dent of your cheeks is getting fuller. the mre's still make you gag, but it seems you'd rather eat those than a squirrel.

there's hope, they think. but if people find out you're immune... they'll try to take you away.

you can't leave them. they'll make sure no one takes you.

BITCH (affectionately) the way this is so fucking good. I LOVE a caretaking fic (clearly) and a protective Simon and Johnny. Love the idea of them on the run, hiding you, protecting you from those who are hunting immunes. Honestly could be an entire book. This scratches my itch so well. Love your brain.

Johnny just wants to take care of you. He knows you’re still in there, knows you’d be so distraught if you realized how filthy they’d let you become, so he takes him time leading you down to the creek by the campsite. He uses one of the t shirts they’ve been using as a washcloth to sponge you clean, humming sweetly to gentle you as you flinch against the water. Your skin is starting to turn back to its normal color now, a recent development that they both feel good about, and you’ve become more sensitive to temperature, occasionally shivering against the chilled cloth. Simon keeps watch, and you watch too, tracking Johnny’s hands with sluggish eyes and a half open mouth, tongue flicking between your teeth.

If he didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re preparing to take a bit out of him-

“Just gon’ brush yer teeth, darling.” He cradles your jaw with strong fingers and your brow furrows, confused when he pops your mouth wide, the little toothbrush you packed for yourself when you evacuated lightly scrubbing across your bottom teeth.

“Be careful, Johnny.” Simon warns, but he clucks his tongue.

“She’s alright. Cannae hurt me.” He knows you wouldn’t. You already would have, at night. Already would have turned on them, ripped their jugulars free with your teeth when they slept.

But you wouldn’t. Because you’re still in there. You’re still darling.

Once he’s done, fixed your hair so that it’s up but not weighing your scalp down, ensured it’s in place how you like, he passes you to Simon so he can make dinner.

Simon walks patrol at this time, and you go with him, listlessly walking at his side.

“D’ya remember last summer, when we all went to that carnival? You were so excited. Made Johnny and I play that bloody ring game against one another. You were so chuffed, I swear I can still hear you giggling when Johnny beat me the first time.” You moaned in response, something that didn’t sound quite like words, but more positive to negative.

Something catches his eye. A deer in the woods. A doe. Sizable. He glances from you, to it.

“Darling.” He holds your shoulder, trying to jog your gaze. “Darling, I need you to stay here.” He doesn’t want to leave you, but if he can get closer, he can get a clean shot off. You stare at him, and he sighs. “Alright.”

He makes it ten meters before the brush rustles behind him, the sight of you lumbering slowly towards where he’s crouched. You’re staring past him, watching doe with a glazed over look, and he tenses.

Once you get to his side, you look down to where he’s kneeling behind a bush, and then you start to, painfully slow, crouch beside him, fingers lightly brushing against his thigh.

You look at him, and then at the deer with a grunt. The hope that blooms in his heart is infectious, and he can’t fight it. He won’t.

Weeks later, they’re on the road when they come across a group of others.

You’ve improved, greatly, but your ability to speak never came back. You can’t talk, only point and make little noises here and there, and your fine motor skills are still struggling, (Johnny is still brushing your teeth for you, and feeding you. He doesn’t complain, they both have always loved taking care of you) and your pace is very slow, like you’re sore, and always tired. Simon is careful to go easy, not wanting to do anything to stress you or make your condition worse.

The bite mark on your neck has never gone away. It’s a scar now, rough and raised flesh like a fucking beacon on your skin. They usually keep something tied to it, but for some reason on this day, you had pulled it free, and they never noticed.

But the others did.

“Is that a bite?” One of them says, and Simon tenses, positioning himself in front of you, Johnny pulling you into his chest, protective arm across your shoulders.

“No.” Simon tells them, but they don’t buy it. One them stares at you, greed dripping from his gaze.

“Heard there were immunes out there somewhere. NHS is offering a big payday for one alive. Or dead.” He licks his lips, and Simon shakes his head.

“Trust us. Ye dinnae want to do this.” Johnny calls, but the group is already staring at you like you’re worth your weight in gold.

There’s five of them, versus Simon and Johnny, but they like the odds.

They’ve got bullets in three before you even realize what’s happening, Simon’s blade buried in the flesh of another’s neck in a flash, Johnny pressing his weight into the last one on the ground.

“He’ll tell others.” He spits over his shoulder, and Simon nods.

He will. And they can’t allow that. Can’t allow anyone to know about you.

The last thing the man sees is Johnny’s hands around his neck, and you watching half interested over his shoulder, half bored.

#peaches asks #peaches writes #dead disco zombie au

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leclercsloveletter · 4 months

Text

CL16 | friends or not

Summary: You love Charles, but he keeps you treading on the line between friends and strangers. The humiliation and frustration finally got to you.

Pairing: Charles Leclerc x fem reader

Words count: 1842

Warning: mention of sex, angsty I guess? Google translated french

Author’s note: Inspired by Zeph’s song I just love her music so much. This is my first time using tumblr to post fic so let me know if I can improve the formatting somehow to make it easier to read! Thank youu <3

"Hey Y/n, I'm in Monaco today, pull through?"

"Sure, usual time?"

He left a heart reaction to the text, the familiar dance of messages unfolded with practised precision. An occasional catch-up session with Charles over a glass of wine or within the intimate confines of your shared solitude has become the only constant rhythm in your situation with him. In fact, you don't remember the last time it wasn't like this. He texts you when he's around, and sometimes makes plans just to let it fall through at the last second. You understand he's a man of business, always busy and on his feet, but why would he even consider getting to know you when he knows he can't be at least present in your life as a friend? Worse, why did you allow him to get his way?

Charles Leclerc is the type of man to only text back half the time you texted him. You would be lucky if he read your messages, a lot of the time, he resorts to ghosting you for days or even weeks only to reply with short, blunt, generic answers. Sometimes you laugh to yourself at the audacity of this man, a virtuoso of unpredictability, to parade you around like his future girl during intimate dinners with his friends only to burst your bubble when he's back on the road again.

But sadly, Charles Leclerc is more than that. Besides his devilishly handsome face, he donned the facade of the happiest man alive, a veneer that temporarily eclipsed the shadows of uncertainty when you're finally allowed to occupy his precious time. The streets of Monte Carlo bore witness to your interplay of laughter and the tender clasping of hands. With him holding you so close to his chest the paparazzi can't snap a shot of his mystery girl. It gets to your head like a sick disease. Moments like that are when his existence woven itself seamlessly into the fabric of your life.

Between the white sheets plastered on your naked body and the whispers of the Medditerian sea, Charles Leclerc was your Charlie. The Charlie that speaks in fluent waves of serenity about his life on the road. His words are like a siren's song, drowning out the echoes of your longing that surface in his absence. In those stolen moments, he becomes the tranquil pulse that courses through the veins of your shared narrative. You wish you could tear him out of your skin.

"So, how's life?"

You start the conversation, sitting across from him in a restaurant on the edge of Monaco. Charles is gorgeous as always, in his cream-coloured sweaters that you spent many early mornings nuzzled in before he kindly pulled it off your frame.

"Would you believe me if I said it was kind of shit? Could've been a better season I guess. How about you?"

Charles replied with a laugh, sipping on the sweet wine with eyes fixed on you. It should be illegal for him to give you that look, the look that says he has a genuine interest in your existence.

"I can tell, you always call me when you panic. I think I had more calls from you this season than I ever had before."

A quiet acknowledgment, an attempt to make him realise the shared vulnerabilities you had for each other. You look around before continuing, the same restaurant where you first met, linked up through a mutual friend at a dinner party. He gave you his number over a glass of whiskey on the rock, leaving you full of naive anticipation to send the first text.

"I remember the first time I saw you here. I was starstruck to meet you in real life, clinging to every word you said, so excited when you handed me your number. I wish I wasn't the last thing on your mind Charlie."

Words flow out of you uncontrollably, you don't know why you said that. The pain bubbling up and closing behind your throat as you speak intrigues Charles who now wears an expression of confusion and slight frustration.

"What do you mean Y/n? You know how much you meant to me, tu es la meilleure chose sur terre, chérie."

His gaze softens, hands reaching out to pat a stray hair on your head. His attempt at reassurance softened the moment, yet a lingering doubt clung to the air. You wish he meant it, or meant it and not regret it.

"You're looking at me like that again. Like I'm the best thing on earth to you."

"Because you are-"

"Only because I'm the only one to look at. The second best of two is just last Charles."

Over that bar counter where he slipped you his number, when you were dwelling on the heartbreak of your last relationship, or when you found yourself crying in his living room over the loss of your friend, Charles always said he'd be there for you. Yet, in the crucible of reality, the promises seemed hollow. He's only there when nobody else needs him. You're a second thought to him, a blind spot he noticed when it's convenient. But a part of you desperately held on to Charles, wishing, praying, begging that one day you would be promoted to have a position in his life and not just an on-and-off fling he does.

"I'm sorry Y/n, I didn't mean to make you feel that way."

He said, voice just as calm and peaceful as you always knew. But filled with static and signals that you're tired of decoding. Right at that moment, you realise you could either move on or continue being his nuisance. To set yourself free from Charles's hot and cold would mean to be free of the games he set you in.

"Just reply to my text more often Charlie."

But to set yourself free from Charles also means to lose the love you drove through all the mixed signals for.

"Mon ange, what are you thinking about?"

"Nothing much, just that time you brought me to dinner with Max and Kelly. It was nice."

The street of Monaco, viewed from the inside of Charles' car, was silent on a weeknight, surrounded by the sea where lights and chatters fell into white noise. It felt the same as the night when Charles hit you up last minute since he "didn't have a plus one for a party" which turns out to be just dinner with Max and his girlfriend Kelly who have to go on a work trip abroad next week.

Kelly sat across from you, mirroring one another: Women who are successful in their line of work, flowing with beauty and sophistication, have a world-class F1 driver accompany them while you all sit and gossip. The only difference is that she has a title and you don't.

"So Charles, when will Y/n be making paddock appearances? I think Ferrari would love it if you put on a show for the tifosi."

Max joked, tipsy over the seemingly unlimited alcohol on the table. Charles and you both choked on air, but you were flustered with your heart drumming in your chest, and Charles was trying to hide the scrunch of his nose.

"Ah I don't know Max, we are still trying to figure ourselves out. I'm in no rush to run PR and have Ferrari staging pap on me."

He sighs with a chuckle, Max and Kelly both wear concerned gazes seeing your face drop. In your head, the world stops spinning, he doesn't even have the guts to refer to you as a friend, but just something mysterious and hindering that he has to "figure out". The delicious food suddenly turns sour in your mouth, as sour as the pity he's sparing you by asking if you're alright.

"Charles, are we friends?"

"Of course we are, I wouldn't let a stranger in my car yea?"

He said lightheartedly, humming to the song on the radio. You can only let out a sigh, you don't know if he's dumb or he's leading you on anymore. Your desire for him is real, it's running thin by the second.

"Stop the car, Charlie."

"What?"

"We need to talk"

He pulled over carefully, you left the pista so fast it's like the leather was burning holes in your skin. The night breeze hit your already cold skin, Charles brought out a coat you know he kept in the back seat to swing over you. If only this was how it is always, to have him so close and so caring, to be his only one.

"So..."

"Charlie, are you bored of me? Did you realise I'm replaceable? If there's anyone better please just let me know and we don't have to pretend we know each other anymore. Please Charles I'm sick of being led around like your decoration only for you to treat me like less than a friend when you're away."

Silence, he stood in silence with a look you can't recognise after spending so much time tiptoeing around him. Your pleading caught him off guard, he probably didn't know you had a breaking point. Or at least he didn't expect it to catch up to him so soon. Charles pulled you into a hug, a futile attempt to assuage the tears streaming down your cheeks.

"I promise we are friends. I'm sorry mon ange, that I made you feel that way. I'm uncertain about us, I don't know what I want from you. I just want to keep you around."

"Charles I'm not just something to keep around. I have my values, I'm a human too. I want you but if you don't want us then just...let us go"

"I don't want-"

"This isn't just about you Charles, it's about me too. I will not sit around to wait for you while you go fuck another girl on a different continent every race season. You either give me something or you let me live."

You tore away from his arms in the outburst. Charles looks lost, heartbroken, just the way you look when he did the same to you. You almost run right back to apologise, to cradle him in your love and swear to never hurt him again. But you can't stand being a pet of his anymore, not when you put your whole soul into this man but still not deserving of a title.

Silence, silence hung in the air so heavy and suffocating as he led you back into the car, and dropped you off at your place. A "bye" so small it got lost in the wind as he drove away. War is over you guessed, even though there was no answer but no answer is better than waiting for a potential answer from him. You pull out your phone, delete his number, delete your pictures, unfollow his private account and let the heartbreak wash over you.

Down the street, Charles felt the same as you do for the first time.

#charles leclerc x reader #charles leclerc #cl16 x reader #cl16 #formula 1 imagine #formula 1 drivers #f1 #he’s a bit stupid and dense #charles leclerc x fem reader

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itsbuckytm · 4 months

Text

A Lumberjack's love story / Coriolanus Snow (ft Treech)

summary : You found yourself appointed as Treech's mentor. You had believed that falling in love, especially with someone from a District, was an impossibility. The idea of developing feelings for your tribute seemed even more far-fetched. However, it became unmistakably evident that Snow had become somewhat obsessed and jealous of this unexpected connection. The love that was once rumored to be a mere Game strategy now revealed itself as undeniable truth. Snow is determined to assert your allegiance and make you aware of where your loyalties lie, employing Treech's memories as a strategic tool in the process.

p.s.: english is not my native language, so I apologize for any errors or mistakes. Additionally, I am open to writing about other tributes, like Treech x reader, or any other characters. Feel free to make requests; my ask box is always open!

Snow was never inclined to publicly display the bond between the two of you. Given the stakes of his family name, he recognized that their relationship was merely a facade. As time passed, it became not only unattractive for a woman of her youth but also jeopardized her reputation as a young aristocrat in the streets of the Capitol. Such thoughts that became fueled within your mind as you were compiled with a reminder of your mother’s desire to know what were your plans upon graduations. And to be completely fair, you had zero idea.

While the Academy expected you to maintain unwavering focus, Snow found himself increasingly intrigued by you. However, he wasn't the type to initiate things. Instead, he expressed his interest through subtle glances, careful not to be caught observing you during class. Despite his reserved yet confident demeanor, it was evident that Snow harbored an attraction towards you during his time as a student at the Academy. If only both of you were aware of the mutual sentiments brewing between you. If only.

In the initial weeks of the 10th Games, he witnessed you under the relentless summer sun of the Capitol. Your forehead glistened with a sheen of sweat as you struggled to maintain professionalism with your tribute. Treech. Recognizing the challenging nature of the task, he found himself increasingly captivated as your vulnerability became more pronounced each day. It was this vulnerability that marked Snow's first overt fixation on you. From the way you pampered Treech’s wound after training, to how you carefully swiped his sweet, making it slightly harder due to his curls peaking beneath his hat. How he had envied to be in Treech’s place.

The following day, as you prepared lunch for your tribute, he offered his suggestion. His very first interaction with you. "I'd recommend the sandwich." He said. Having noticed your early arrival in the cafeteria, he quietly approached you from behind, his gaze fixed on the softness of your skin as your fingers delicately folded the freshly cooked food into an aluminum bag. The aroma lingered, a distinct scent that had left an indelible impression on him since the first day he could approach. You responded with a smile, taking his advice to heart and adding additional sandwiches based on Snow's recommendation, expressing deep appreciation for his input.

On that very first day, Snow found himself unable to divert his thoughts. Whenever both of you shared the same space, he couldn't help but feel a twinge of jealousy when you attended to Treech’s skills during training. At times, he pondered whether your sentiments were equally directed towards someone like him, someone he considered beneath you. This notion offended him, yet he couldn't deny that he, too, harbored affection for his tribute. However, for Snow, it was more about care and presentation than genuine emotions.

Unlike Snow, you had gradually developed deep feelings for Treech. Similarly, even though he needed to take care for his female tribute, especially in your absence. Treech could only think about you. He often expressed his longing for you, complaining about how much he missed your presence or simply wanting to catch a glimpse of your face when you served him his regular meals. These seemingly ordinary gestures were significant to Treech, and he was determined to make you proud once declared the victor. To run away from the Capitol– To build a family of your own. However, that aspiration crumbled when, in the end, Lucy—Snow's tribute—claimed victory herself. Despite your efforts to conceal any sorrow and refrain from openly grieving for the person you loved, Treech's name appeared from Flickerman's announcements, and he was declared as deceased.

On that fateful evening, during the closure event of the 10th Hunger Games, Snow observed you closely. A sense of pride welled up within him as he witnessed his tribute not only surviving but excelling. However, this sentiment quickly shifted when he laid eyes on Treech's lifeless body in the arena, just moments before his demise. In his mind, he could almost hear Treech's voice pleading. "Be proud of me, Y/N." Despite suspecting that you might not be able to, given the emotional toll, Snow couldn't resist locking eyes with you, even with other tributes still alive.

Before just a few minutes that Lucy was announced the winner. Snow had yearned to approach you, to envelop you in a comforting hug, assuring you that everything would be alright. He wanted to commend your efforts in standing by Treech's side, supporting him in his quest for victory. Yet, a conflicting feeling gnawed at him, a sense that he was supposed to be the one you cared for, the one you cherished as you did Treech. It was a realization that he, too, would soon need to confront.

It was inevitable that you will be compelled to pay homage to your District. The profound impact of your care for Treech had touched his family, leading them to extend an invitation for you to visit his home District. Gratefully acknowledging this gesture, you agreed to be present at Treech's funeral. Simultaneously, Snow, prompted to return to District 12 himself, sought a distraction for his troubled mind. Before his departure as a Peacekeeper, you seized the opportunity to express your congratulations, a sentiment you had unintentionally neglected during the Games. And informed Snow about Treech’s funeral. "Treech's family invited me to their son’s funeral... I'm uncertain about the duration of my stay, but can you promise me something before I go?"

Your melodious voice, as you spoke to him, almost turned his stomach. He observed every nuance of your movements, noting the way your gaze traversed from his body to his lips. The awareness of your attraction to him lingered in the air, though you attempted, albeit futilely, to conceal it—thanks in part to Treech providing a convenient distraction. Or was it only in his head?

As you prepared to share your concerns, expressing the challenges of being a Peacekeeper, a role your sibling had also undertaken, he sought to reassure you. His fingers tenderly traced the contours of your soft cheeks, creating an irresistible desire to kiss those plump lips of yours. They appeared too tempting to resist, with a fleeting fear crossing his mind that Treech might have been the first to experience that indulgence. Despite the conflicting emotions, Snow found a peculiar satisfaction in Treech's demise. Yet, he remained steadfast and resolute in ensuring your promise. "I'll promise. I swear on my father's grave."

"Promise me you'll be cautious? When I return, let's meet at your grandmother's garden. No questions asked." Clarity was crucial, and Snow understood your aversion to ambiguity. Even in the aftermath of the Games, with Snow away during your grieving for Treech, the uncertainty gnawed at you. You couldn't shake off the nagging doubt about whether Snow would indeed come back from his duty or, worse, not return at all. "I will." He assured you sincerely. Leaning in, he planted a gentle kiss on your forehead just as his name was called to depart the Capitol and head back to District 12. What you didn't know was that his decision to serve as a Peacekeeper and be in District 12 wasn't solely an act of care; it was driven by a desire to reunite with Lucy. If only you were aware that things weren't unfolding as expected, and Snow was returning as a completely different man. "Noon?" He asked quickly before nodding to his colleague, indicating that it was his cue to leave.

“Noon.”

Snow detested every moment of his stay to District 12. Honestly, witnessing how he treated Lucy served as a constant reminder of you back in the Capitol. Your image would casually infiltrate his thoughts, diverting his actions as he found himself doing everything with you in mind. Forgetting that the Games were still being aired, the revelation of the strong opinions on other Districts held about the tributes and their mentors left a bitter taste in Snow's mouth. It was especially repugnant if your name was uttered by those with the filthiest tongues. Snow harbored a visceral reaction, ready to eliminate anyone who dared to disrespect you with tasteless comments or words he hoped you hadn't heard during your time in Treech's District. Since emerging from that harrowing experience, he vowed to ensure that those in District 12 who spoke ill of you would suffer the consequences, every bit of it.

And the memory was etched in his mind, vivid as if it happened yesterday. Snow hadn't intended to be invited to the Hob, yet he found no reason to object when offered. Lucy remained a distraction for him, seated just a few tables away when he overheard those contemptible words. While he tried his very best to remain his eyes on the silhouette that was on the stage. The one he “Loved”. He imagined as each words began to fuel his determination to make their speaker cleanse their mouth with the foulest soap, a gesture to demonstrate that such opinions should be worn like armor, wielded like a weapon. "You know, Treech's mentor? Apparently, they fell in love during the Games... I can't even imagine, let alone see the person you loved in such a distraught situation." Although the speaker may not have sounded offensive to an average person, to Snow, it was the complete opposite.

Without a moment's hesitation, Snow unleashed a punch. He paid no heed to the gasps around him or the attempts of other boys to pull him away or defend themselves. In his mind, you belonged to him, and he couldn't fathom, let alone accept, the idea of you being with anyone else but him. The mere thought of enduring more distasteful words about you from the most insensitive individuals during your absence was unbearable. Regardless of the consequences, he was determined not to let it slide. When Snow, meant he’d do anything for you, he meant every words.

As Snow neared the end of his tenure as a Peacekeeper, with only a few months remaining, his anticipation to reunite with you grew stronger. Fortunately, he had the opportunity to receive updates about you during his breaks, thanks to calls with Tigris. Hearing her speak about your successes in university brought immense joy to Snow. Knowing that you were thriving and well was what mattered most to him. However, there was an underlying concern that continued to nag at him. Despite your objections, Tigris felt compelled to address it, especially considering Snow's already demanding role as a Peacekeeper. "She hasn't been coping well with Treech's death, Coryo. There are times when I see her crying in her sleep. She mentioned how she wishes he were here, sensing his presence, you know? I can’t believe I am going to say that but– I think they were genuinely in love. And it wasn’t just for the show."

Truly in love, the revelation that struck Snow the hardest was the hidden well of genuine skill that only emerged when necessary. Lucy lingered in his thoughts, a constant presence, while you were navigated the grieving process for you first love as well. He too, had doubts that Lucy was amongst his first love. Although genuine doubts crept in as he questioned whether the efforts he invested were truly worthwhile. The chaos he instigated at the Hob last night, the desperate plea from Sejanus – all of it was orchestrated for your sake. Yet, the realization that you hadn't given up on Treech, your former love, dampened his spirits. Snow, however, knew that your heart now belonged to him. Upon his return, he vowed to assert his claim unequivocally, free from any expectations.

Anticipating his imminent return, Tigris meticulously selected the most exquisite dress she could envision for someone of your stature. While the occasion might have seemed extravagant, she understood that her cousin Snow would value the effort, especially since your meeting was set to take place on Snow's rooftop—an ethereal space where innocence, purity, and passion converged. Restlessly, you began nervously nibbling at the cuticles of your fingers. "Don't be too shocked when you see him without his curls." Tigris quipped as you arrived at their apartment.

Since Snow became a victor, you noticed a shift in the opulence of the place compared to your last visit. Tigris's room now exuded her fashion sensibilities with a palette of pinks and light beiges, while Snow's room contrasted sharply with bright white walls and accents of crimson red. A broken frame holding his father's portrait captured your attention, and as you surveyed your surroundings in Snow's empire, you couldn't help but see a parallel with yourself—a broken frame that Snow seemed determined to mend with his love.

Before encountering you, Snow had a few errands to run, one of which involved settling the score with Casca. The second stop was to finally meet you. As the gentle rays of Capitol sunshine transitioned into the evening darkness adorned with stars, anticipation for the exciting yet thrilling meeting with you heightened since his return. "Where is she?" Arriving just in time at the entrance of his apartment, although he was well aware of your whereabouts. He played the part to make it appear otherwise, a little trick that didn't escape Tigris's notice. Her chuckle prompted him to follow her, momentarily catching his breath as she revealed. "At the rooftop. Waiting for you."

A wave of relief swept over him, and he expressed continuous gratitude to his cousins. Tigris attempted to assist him in catching his breath, noticing Snow's heightened excitement upon seeing you. She, too, was well aware of his intense fascination with you. However, witnessing the spectacle involving Treech and you, she grasped the potential threat her cousin might have posed. Bound by blood and family, she couldn't deny the reality and opted not to pretend. If Snow was genuinely in love with you, she had to believe him. "Just be gentle, okay? She just returned from Treech's District. Even if it’s been a few months. She might need more comfort than one can fathom."

She might need more comfort than one can fathom. Was read like butter to Snow’s ears. As if this was his very own speciality let alone being with the one he truly learned to hear that she was the one for him. He did not approached this statement as a sort of threat. In fact, he was going to use to his full potential and let you completely be compiled by him and emblembed the relationship between the two.

Upon entering, the familiar fragrance of fresh roses enveloped him—a scent he had sorely missed since his grandmother used to present him with one during the reaping ceremony. Despite his absence, the care bestowed upon the flowers was evident. It became clear that, much like him, you had also been away for some time. However, upon your return, you diligently attended to the flowers daily, diverting your focus from Treech. Among the many qualities Snow admired in you was your meticulous attention to detail, a fact he subtly acknowledged as he casually plucked a fresh rose and delicately inhaled its scent, all while listening to your sweet voice. "I'd be careful if I were you." he remarked nonchalantly.

And there you stood, flesh and blood. Your skin bore a slight tan from the harsh weather of Treech’s District, which quickly faded upon your return to the Capitol, where the grief over Treech proved more challenging than anticipated. Tigris noticed the change in your complexion, the lack of color that had manifested in your skin. Fortunately, you maintained the bold red lip, a shade crafted from the lipstick your mother often made for you—a detail Snow admired, especially as it harmoniously blended with his own colors.

"Thank you.” He managed to say, though in his defense, he was so captivated by your beauty that he found himself absentmindedly caressing the rose, which had fallen on its own. "You've picked the wrong rose. It was about to wither." You added, your words revealing both concern and almost boredom.

Snow detected a subtle tremor in your demeanor, observing how you had become fragile and adrift amid the chaos of your own emotions. Despite your efforts to conceal them, your vulnerability remained apparent. Inwardly, Snow acknowledged that he, too, wasn't immune, having fallen for a Snake that led him back to a recurring beginning. "How are you doing?" Was all he managed to say, careful not to exacerbate your grief for Treech or delve into the complexities of Lucy's memory. This one-on-one interaction became a delicate balancing act, particularly since you were well aware of the romantic display he had been showcasing.

"Okay, I suppose." Was your cautious response, accompanied by a hint of uncertainty, as if contemplating whether to revise your answer. In truth, you hadn't been doing well, resorting to sleeping at Snow's place to hide your tears. It added another layer of complexity to rest in Coriolanus's room, knowing he would return soon. You were aware that upon his return, you'd need to find your own place, a life independent of others. Yet, it seemed this wasn't part of Snow's agenda. "How was District 12?" You inquired, steering the conversation toward another topic.

"Could ask the same, sweetheart." Snow retorted, a reluctance to recall evident in his expression. Yet, for you, forgetting proved to be a much harder task. The memories of moments spent with Treech haunted you – sneaking him out of the Capitol's Zoo, hand in hand, discussing a future that now felt lost. Memories of him teaching you to wield an axe, his relationship with Lamina, and the dreams of building a family together. The breaking point came when you saw his eyes on the screen, calling out your name, almost begging and apologizing for deciding your fate. In that moment, you desperately tried to erase it all, but it only resulted in a torrent of tears. Your trembling fingers betrayed the pain at the thought of Treech. Sensing your anguish, Snow reached out, comforting you and reassuring. That it wasn’t all your fault. "Hey— Hey— I'm here."

Snow, despite his aversion to everything, understood the pain of losing someone dear. Despite his pride and the incident that involved being bitten by a snake, Lucy had become a memory he learned to rely on, blurring the lines between that memory and the reality of you. "You did everything you could..." He spoke, the resonance of his voice echoing the tone he maintained during the Games. "You taught him everything, prepared him to be a victor, and yet—" He paused, a moment of reflection taking him back to his own experiences in a similar position with Lucy.

"Please..." You pleaded, attempting to bury the remnants of memories. Yet, as your gaze locked onto Snow's, you found yourself fully engulfed in his eyes, surrendering to a state of vulnerability and desperation. You implored Snow silently, begging him to restore you to the woman you once were. Snow was prepared to undertake that task, ready to unveil the true essence of himself.

"Stay with me." You uttered the same words spoken that night with Treech by your side, the eve before the Games commenced. Feeling Snow's arms enveloping you, he whispered the same reassurance Treech told you, that everything would be okay, that tomorrow would bring us all home. Unfortunately, that promise remained unfulfilled. “You are at home now.” Snow implied on reassuring you the best he can offer. An offer of love, protection, and making sure you were the queen in his very own eyes. The same way Treech did.

"I'll ensure your protection, shower you with love, and take care of you." Snow vowed, his words echoing those once spoken by Treech when he confessed his love to you. With that commitment hanging in the air, Snow approached, and this time, with no Peacekeepers present. Snow was fortunate enough to feel his lips meeting yours for the first, and not the last, time. As he leaned in, he silently and gently brushed the bottom of your lips. Unbeknownst to you, Snow had been well aware of the connection between Treech and you. He had observed the way Treech looked at you and noted the similarities in their demeanor just before a kiss. Everything had been meticulously calculated to make you his own.

Every details were orchestrated to convey the authenticity of a man you had once deeply fell in love.

#coriolanus snow x reader #coriolanus snow #coriolanus x reader #coriolanus imagines #the hunger games x reader #the hunger games x you #treech x reader #treech x you #treech imaginess #the hunger games ballad of songbirds and snakes #president snow x reader #coriolanus snow imagines #treech imagines #hunger games imagines

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mooshywrites · 3 months

Note

Would it be alright to request what Halsin would think of a sorceress Tav? There's custom dialogue lines from him if Tav is a Druid, so I've always wondered what he'd say and think related to her class specifically.

The Druid’s Sorceress

Fem!Reader x Halsin

Masterlist

Art commissions

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

A/N - Here’s a few bite sized sorceress blurbs :) <3

Word count - 2K

Warnings - Fluff, lots of game spoilers, slight rewriting of plot points

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

“I’m lucky to have met you, Sorceress.”

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Tiefling Party~

Halsin couldn’t keep his eyes off of you for most of the evening. At first, he tried to convince himself that he was only drawn to you because of how you saved him. But Halsin knew, behind that thought, was a desperation to get to know you. To spend even a second more with your magnetic aura.

When you finally danced over to talk to Halsin, he could’ve sworn his heart jumped into his throat.

“Enjoying the party, Druid?” You asked, your words slightly tipsy from the various flavors of wine being passed around the party.

Halsin chuckled, crossing his arms over his chest. “I am indeed. Are you also enjoying the party…” Halsin paused, realizing he had no idea what the Hero of the Grove’s speciality lied in.

“Sorceress.” You offered, throwing Halsin a charming smile. “I’m a Sorceress.”

Halsin smiled back, happy he had just another piece of your personality known to him. “Like The Blade. Wyll, was it?”

You scoffed, swishing the wine in your chalice, “He’s a warlock. And between you and me, I’m much better.”

Halsin laughed warmly, nodding his head. “I know not who is better, but I know you yourself are quite impressive.”

“I’m not the only one.” You replied, appreciatively.

Halsin didn’t miss the way the sorceress’s cheeks flushed slightly. He bit back his words, afraid he would come on too strong. He hadn’t known you for long, and well… he couldn’t bring himself to allow the kind of distraction you had become. Not yet at least.

“So tell me about the Shadowlands.” You questioned, taking a step forward to hear the Druid over the music better.

Halsin only offered a thin smile, trying his best not to convey how those words twisted in his chest. “You needn’t worry about those things until morning. Go. Enjoy your party, hero.”

Halsin was thankful that you took his advice, leaving with a genuine smile. He would’ve talked to you all evening if circumstances were different. Would’ve invited you to sit with him under the stars, somewhere more quiet.

He couldn’t though. Not while the knowledge of how nature rotted on the journey’s path. Something he should’ve tried to fix much much earlier.

No, getting to know the Sorceress would have to wait.

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Dancing Lights~

The camp was quieter than usual that night. The fight with Oliver was difficult, the fights along the way making the end battle even more so. Once you all finally made it back to camp, most went to their tent to lick their wounds.

You, however, trudged your way towards Halsin’s tent.

Halsin was whittling away quietly, hoping the movements would lessen his stress. Thaniel lay further in the tent, still completely unconscious. It was almost as if Thaniel was in a deep peaceful sleep, resting upon Halsin’s bedroll. He wanted to go with you to find Thaniel’s other half, but he couldn’t tear himself from the boy.

Halsin startled when you cleared your throat, too entrenched in his thoughts to hear your approach.

He dropped his whittling looking up to you hopefully. “Did you find it? Will Thaniel be whole?”

You sighed and plopped down next to him, picking up his unfinished wooden duck. You rubbed the shavings off idly, your voice weary when you spoke, “Yes, I found him.” Your eyebrows furrowed together. “Oliver said he’d come back to Thaniel. I’m never playing hide and seek again.”

“Oliver?” Halsin started.

Before he could continue, there was a stir in the corner of Halsin’s tent. Halsin’s hand shot over to grip yours as he stared at the bundle, his eyes wide.

Your own eyes widened as you saw a small boy sit up off of the furs, yawning and rubbing his eyes sleepily.

Thaniel's other half, whom you had only heard stories of before, now sat before you both. His small horns sat delicately on his forehead, and his eyes sparkled with mischief as he blinked away the remnants of sleep.

Halsin's grip on your hand tightened, a mix of awe and disbelief etched across his face. "Is this... Is this truly him?" You whispered, your voice barely audible.

Halsin nodded, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips. "Yes. This is Thaniel wholly put together, In the flesh."

The young horned boy blinked up at both of you and tilted his head curiously. "Who are you?" he asked towards you, his voice melodic and excited as he pointed.

You giggled softly, giving the boy a shy smile. “I’m a friend of Halsin’s. I helped him save you.”

“She’s a sorceress. Quite a good one.” Halsin added proudly.

Your cheeks heated slightly, not sure how to take the compliment.

Thaniel narrowed his eyes suspiciously, “A sorceress, hmm? Cast something then!”

You couldn’t help but laugh again at the childish pout the boy gave you. Who could say no to that face? You took a breath and whispered the incantation, circling your finger in the air to cast ‘Dancing lights’.

Beautiful blue orbs blipped into existence, shining gentle light over everything below it.

Thaniel's eyes widened in wonder as he watched the dancing lights float around the tent. His excitement was infectious, and soon both you and Halsin found yourselves smiling at the sight.

But as the lights swirled and twirled, something peculiar happened. They began to take on different shapes—a miniature dragon, a cascading waterfall, a blooming flower. The lights had a life of their own, responding to Thaniel's imagination and bringing his fantasies to life.

Thaniel clapped his hands in delight, his laughter filling the tent. "This is incredible! Can we make them do more?"

You nodded slightly, in awe of how the boy could manipulate someone else’s spell so easily.

“He acts as if he’s never seen magic before. Even though he can use it in such an incredible way.” You murmured, turning to Halsin.

Halsin’s chest filled with warmth when your eyes met his, “Maybe he hasn’t seen magic from one so beautiful.”

Your cheeks blushed brilliant red, your eyes unable to break away from the man.

Thaniel‘s voice cut through, making the two of you look towards him and realize the dancing light’s had completely disappeared.

“Miss Halsin’s-pretty-sorceress?” He asked, tinged with sarcasm, “Can you bring the lights back?

─── ⋆⋅☼⋅⋆ ───

~Owlbear Cub~

Scratch and Owlbear cub played loudly, running through the center of the camp. You watched on, the display a nice distraction from the long day.

As the sun dipped below the horizon, casting an orange glow over the camp, you couldn't help but feel a swell of warmth in your chest. The playful antics of Scratch and the Owlbear cub had brought a much-needed respite to the weariness that had settled upon your companions.

With a contented smile, you leaned back against the rough trunk of an ancient oak tree, observing the camaraderie forming between Scratch, a stray pup you had taken under your wing, and the Owlbear cub, a gentle baby with fluffy feathers and curious eyes. Their chase carried them further into the camp, weaving through tents and scattering supplies in their wake.

Laughter echoed through the air as your weary companions watched on, their exhaustion momentarily forgotten. Even Astarion with his unyielding glare, couldn't suppress a chuckle at the sight of the unlikely pair's boundless energy.

As dusk began to deepen, Halsin bumbled over to sit next to you. He carried his whittling tools, starting his next project as soon as he was on the ground. The two of you had grown much closer in the past days, now comfortable enough with each other to sit together in silence. It was nice, being able to unwind after the stressful days. You didn’t feel the need to make endless conversation, content to just appreciate each others presence.

Scratch and the cub quieted in the distance for a split second before the little Owlbear squeaked in pain. Your head shot up, concern rising in you as you looked towards them.

The Owlbear rounded the corner, limping to you with a whimper. Scratch followed close behind, barking as if he was trying to get everyone’s attention.

Halsin stood up, “Give me just a moment to see to Scratch and I’ll see to the cub.”

You watched as the cub slinked over, crawling up into your lap as it let out pitiful chitters.

You gathered the creature into your arms as much as you could, cooing over the poor thing. You couldn’t see what had hurt it, only that it was favoring its back paw.

You gently examined the Owlbear cub's injured paw, careful not to cause any further pain. It seemed like a sprain, and you sighed with relief that it wasn't anything more serious. The little creature nestled closer to you, seeking comfort and reassurance.

Halsin returned with a concerned expression, crouching down beside you. "How is the cub?" he asked, his voice filled with genuine worry.

"It's just a sprain, nothing too serious," you replied, giving the cub a gentle stroke. "I think some rest and healing magic should do the trick."

Halsin nodded, reaching out his hand to cast a spell. A small green glow started to radiate outwards before it fizzled.

“Oak Father Preserve me,” Halsin muttered. “It seems I’ve been rendered empty of mana.”

You shook your head, smiling at him. “I’m not. I can do it.”

Halsin leaned in as you cast your healing spell, a warm glow shining against the cub’s feathers

As you channeled your magic into the sprained paw, a soothing warmth enveloped the Owlbear cub. Its beady eyes stared up at you with an almost grateful expression, and you couldn't help but feel a surge of joy at being able to help your oversized baby.

The Owlbear crawled out of your arms, much more sure footed than before. It tentatively tested its weight on the healed paw, Scratch standing close by as if he felt protective of his oddly shaped little sibling. A delighted squeak emanated from the cub’s throat as it realized the pain was completely gone.

Halsin watched in awe, his eyes gleaming with admiration. "You truly have a gift," he murmured, his voice filled with reverence.

You gave him a modest smile before turning your attention back to the cub, gently nuzzling its soft feathers. It nuzzled back against your cheek affectionately, expressing its gratitude in its own adorable way. It’s funny, how quickly this cub changed from wanting to eat you to wanting to be coddled constantly.

As you continued to sit there, Halsin leaned closer, his shoulder brushing against your own.

“You’re able to do so many different kinds of magic. You’re so powerful.” He murmured.

His hand reached over to stroke the owl bear softly before it rested on your own.

“I’m lucky to have met you, Sorceress.”

You felt a warmth spread through your chest at Halsin's words, his touch sending a pleasant shiver down your spine. With a soft smile, you turned to him, your eyes meeting his. "And I am lucky to have met you too, Halsin," you whispered, your voice filled with sincerity.

The setting sun cast an ethereal glow upon the two of you, enveloping you in a moment of quiet intimacy. The world around you seemed to fade away, leaving only the gentle rustle of leaves and the beating of your hearts. It felt as if time had come to a standstill, allowing this connection between you and Halsin to flourish.

As you sat there, hand in hand, the camp around you bustled with activity once again. Companions prepared meals, shared stories, and tended to their duties. But in that small pocket of serenity beneath the ancient oak tree, it was just the two of you.

A Druid and his Sorceress.

#halsin #bg3 halsin #baldurs gate 3 halsin #halsin x reader #halsin x tav #halsin x sorceress #halsin blurb #halsin fluff #halsin fanfiction #bg3 fanfiction #baldurs gate 3 fanfiction #bg3 fluff #baldurs gate 3 fluff #halsin fanfic

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dmercer91 · 9 months

Text

the girl in your arms, me94

in which mark is very persuasive (18+)

here is the very delayed part 2 to the girl in your dreams (mark estapa x hotline girl! reader) brought to a screen near you by the common cold and the extra free time it provides (4.5k)

“if that boy of yours keeps coming in here, you’re gonna owe me a new pack,” you jumped out of your skin, the voice unexpected from behind you

“he’s not my boy. i’ll get you a 20 from my tips tonight, dot. cant buy my own cause then i’ll keep buyin’ em,” you murmured, quickly slipping her pack of cigarettes into your back pocket and going out the back door

he was already there.

you stayed as far away as you could without being serenaded by the other fellow nearby, a regular with a guitar who’d become attached to the idea of you in his bed

you took the pack back out and slid a cig from it, taking the lighter stashed in the empty side of the box out with it as well and placing it in your mouth

sliding your thumb along the lighter, it made a familiar flicking noise at you, but refused to light

again, and again, giving you nothing but sparks of false hope where you desperately needed a flame

he was next to you before you could even vocalize any frustrations, having watched you carefully for the right moment to come closer

you cursed your coworkers empty lighter, looking up at him while his tongue poked out through his lips, eyes focused on lighting your fix

the one you’d only needed cause he was here in the first place.

“you look real pretty tonight, y/n/n,” your stomach flipped inside out, backwards and side to side all in one, his tone sweet and honest

truly, what you would give to stop caring about sweet tones and genuineness

“i drink cause of you, n’ you’re smoking cause of me.. so why can’t-“

“mark,” you quickly shut him down, scolding him in a way that had his eyes filling with sadness

he looked lost, like a puppy at the feet of its person who’d seemed to forget they’d ever had a dog to begin with

your hand was shaking as you pulled it to and from your lips, trying to ignore mark as he took a step closer

“y/n, please,” he whispered, hand ghosting over your waist for a moment before landing, thumb softly moving back and forth over your skin

you twitched at the initial contact, settling far too quickly for your liking, but then moving away.

“you need to stop coming here, baby. really. you’re not doing anything good to yourself,” he shook his head, grabbing your hand once you dropped your cigarette and squished it into the pavement

“m’ trying to do good, i promise. good by you, i’ll always be good by you. please just-“ you cupped his face, his ramble cutting off within a beat and his cheeks going warm against your hands

his eyes fluttered shut, lips parting like just the feeling of you against him brought him a lifetime of peace.

he nestled closer, placing kisses against your palm and making your heart ache harder than it already was

“you’ve done a real good job, mark. at proving that you’re the boy in my dreams. you’re an angel boy. still doesn’t mean that i’m right for you,” his eyes blinked open again, that flash of pain stronger and longer lasting

you shouldn’t have touched him, especially not like this. it was a false sense of hope, but you didn’t know any other way to keep him quiet

“you are, though” he croaked, earning a hitch of your breath

you didn’t mean for any of this to happen

“you’re my girl. stubborn, n’ trying to do the right thing even if it hurts. beautiful, and smart and you. you’re her, you’re right for me,” you gulped, wiping your thumb against the high points of his cheek ever so gently

and then, you did the only thing you could think of.

“i don’t want this, mark. i just want you to leave me alone,” you watched as his chest heaved, as he blinked away tears and shook his head like he was shaking off a bad drill at practice

you watched as he pulled from you, tilting his head like he was confused. you’d never outright told him it’s not what you wanted, cause that wasn’t true.

he knew you were trying to protect him from yourself and somehow your words still felt unbearable

you’d stabbed him in the heart, weeks ago. he’d clean off the knife, hand it back to you as an act of peace, you’d carefully do it again, leave the knife in place every day he came to the bar, it was a routine.

tonight, you twisted the blade, pushed it deeper.

“that- that’s not true, you’re lying,” he stated, voice shaky and eyes watering. you couldn’t watch this, so you turned and headed back for the door

he grabbed your wrist, making a point to be gentle with you no matter how upset he was - he’d never hurt his girl.

he grabbed both of your hands and a tear dropped down his cheeks

“you’re lying to me. admit that you’re lying,” he was almost frantic, eyes switching back and forth from wide to numb while he tried to regulate his thoughts

maybe you weren’t lying. maybe you hadn’t wanted to hurt his feelings, so you spared him until you got too annoyed, needed to get him off you.

it was like his world was crashing down, all hope lost, until a cab drove by, it’s fog lights reflecting in your eyes to show that they were watering- you were on the verge of tears

seeing him like this, upset and confused and crying, made you cry

he was right

“you- you are lying. you’re lying, why? why’d you say that?” you just shook your head, trying to pull away from his hands, but he pressed his forehead to yours.

you couldn’t. moving away from him while he was like this, that wasn’t an option. especially when all he truly wanted, the thing that would fix it all, would be to call you his.

feasible, but a bad idea.

but then he moved closer, and closer, until his lips were brushing against yours. until you could taste the beer on his mouth

until your hands were in his hair and his were cupping your face

he was as sweet as you’d dreamt. a few quick, soft kisses first, those turning into long, meaningful ones.

his hair was soft and his lips were softer, he was jittery and you knew what came next would crush him, but that he wouldn’t back down regardless.

you pulled away, marks hands tilting your head so you’d be looking up at him, swollen lips and red cheeks hidden in the dark of the night

“please go home, mark,”

“i’ve only had two beer. you can’t cut me off,”

tonight was the same as the last, save for the fact that it was far past last call, and there had been no cigarettes or kisses

on top of that, mark was still nursing the same beer he’d got from you however many hours ago, watching you clean up with a glint of admiration never leaving his eyes.

so, the same but different.

he was still here. he’d still shown up like he had every other day you served, he still only drank beer, and he still requested you as his server despite every other member off the bar staff being well aware who he wanted.

and even though it got you in shit with ryan, cause he was jealous and pissed cause one guy was taking up a spot in his bar to only ever spend $16, even though you might’ve felt like you were leading him on, giving in a little too much, you could never refuse him.

you could never tell him to leave, only explain that you couldn’t be his. you could never kick him out of the bar when, truly, it would crush you to see him leave

it would crush you if one day, he didn’t walk through the doors at four pm sharp, right as you clocked in.

it would crush you if you looked towards the door after walking out onto the floor and didn’t see a wind struck head of fluffy, messed up blonde hair

if he wasn’t always standing there with a shy grin and sunburnt cheeks, looking for you.

harder than it’d crush him, you think. if you told him to go. he just didn’t know it.

it was just the two of you, in silence. you always turned off the music after most of the drunks left, not wanting to give yourself anymore of a headache then you had already

after cleaning up the dishes, you pulled the mostly empty bottle from a grinning marks hands and threw it out, then carried the recycling to the back along with the bag of trash you’d previously tied and laid by your feet.

you gently moved his hands from the counter and he set them on his lap, eyes following you while you sprayed down the counter and wiped it down with a rag.

you looked up at him for a quick second, then back at your table, and then to him again.

“where’s home, for you? know you’re not from newark,” mark licked his lips slightly, taking a second.

your question didn’t require a second, not unless he was lying, so you paused your cleaning until he spoke up.

“here, with you. you’re home,” you sent him a scolding look, shaking your head slightly.

you thought of correcting him, drilling it further into his brain that you couldn’t have him, he couldn’t have you.

and then you remembered the night before, where his voice went hoarse and his eyes were teary as he plead with you to tell him you didn’t want him to leave you.

you refused to have that again, so you blinked

“i’m not- i’m.. that’s really sweet, baby. but you know that’s not what i meant. where’re you from?” he grinned sheepishly, your lack of correcting him only boosting his confidence

“michigan. where’s your home?” the look he gave you, soft and curious, want written all over his face, told you that the answer he was looking for was him.

he wanted you to tell him he was your home, like he’d told you.

that was a little too far for your liking, felt a little too manipulative, too much like you were lying to him. so you took it literally.

“i’m from manhattan. hell’s kitchen, if that’s what you’re asking. but i don’t think i found home yet,” you eyed him before scrubbing out one final sticky spot on the wood counter, watching as he looked down with a frown but quickly collected himself.

it stayed quiet while you finished the rest of your closing tasks, his eyes drilled into you wherever you went.

you let him stay seated while the rest of the chairs in the bar had been on countertops and tables, everything shut down for the night.

“you should get going, sweetheart. i’ve gotta count my tray,” you slid him his card, already having closed him out for the sake of his bank account, knowing he had a tendency to tip egregious numbers.

like he knew already, he handed you three twenties, and you shook your head.

“you’re not tipping me 700%, mark. please go, i’ll see you tomorrow,” you kept your tone sweet, tried to treat him like any regular customer.

but he wasn’t.

“come with me,” he whispered, leaving the cash on the table despite your efforts to make him keep it.

you eyed him from the side, tugging your cash drawer out of the till and placing it down.

he grabbed your hand in both of his, messing with your fingers, kissing your palm sweetly. “come with me, please?”

you shook your head softly, cupping his face and swiping your thumb along his cheek quickly before taking your hand back and starting to set up your count.

“to your hotel, baby? you know i can’t. if i come home in the morning ryan’ll be a handful,” he shook his head, just as you did. but with anxiety filling his eyes

maybe this was a bad idea.

“to michigan. i’ve already got your plane ticket, n’ ethan’s switching rooms now that our friend mackie is moving, so you could stay with us. with me,” he mumbled, blush intensifying his already red cheeks.

“mark..” is all you could say, slowly pushing your drawer back into its spot, the count be damned.

“please? please, just give me one chance. i’m just trying to help, i-“ you grabbed his hands, soothed his rambles with sweet patterns on his knuckles.

you shook your head solemnly, and he stood from his chair. you met him on the other side of the bar, planning to try and comfort him with a hug, but he grabbed your face.

his hands were big compared to your jaw, but he was so soft, so gentle with you. you knew he’d beg just from the glint in his eyes.

you knew you’d give in when he pressed his forehead against yours, let his fingers glide in under the nape of your neck so he had his hands buried in your hair.

“please. if you don’t like it there, i’ll get you your ticket back. i just need you to let me prove that you’re perfect for me. please, one chance. s’ all i’ll need. i- i wouldn’t have got the ticket if i didn’t think you’d come, i know you want to, y/n. please,”

“i can’t,” you whispered, tears stinging your eyes and shortly beginning to stream down your cheeks

“you’re wrong. tell me you want to come? you can leave this, you deserve better. i know- i know you want to, i know you do,” you took a deep breath, wrapping your arms around his neck while he adjusted his forehead on yours, grounding you

“you know i do,” you confirmed, “but-“

he didn’t let you finish. there wasn’t an excuse in the world that could make him drop this. drop you.

“then come,” he pleaded, stepping closer to you and moving one hand to the top of your head, pushing your bangs back out of your eyes.

you nodded slightly, just enough for him to feel it against his forehead and let out a sigh of relief, like a brick had been taken off his chest.

he kissed you, again. just as sweet as the last, but hungry.

your fists clenched around his shirt, balling it up to keep him as close to you as humanly possible.

he backed you into the counter, so gentle with you it was a shock his hips moved you at all. the hand and the top of your head moved to your waist, his fingers touching every free inch of skin they could manage under your shirt

it was a long while before you pulled away, only to catch your breath, and you were met with the mark you met on the phone. blushing and out of breath.

the mark that whined, and pleaded, and drank up praise like he needed it to survive.

so, you dragged him by the collar and led him to the back room, shoving him up against the metal shelving, adorned with cutlery, towels and clean dishes.

he stayed put while you rummaged through the lost and found bin, picking out one of the many neck ties that came off of the floors of the bar.

you gave him a soft kiss, tugged at his shirt and watched him pull it over his head, always the perfect listener.

you kissed him again, keeping his concentration centred on you. your hands ghosted his abs, his upper body shuddering from the sensation.

you raised his arms, your mouth the perfect distraction as you tied his wrists to the shelf with the tie. he hummed as you tightened it, pulling on his bonds slightly and then tugging his head back

you smiled, and any panic left his features. instead, he was just needy, like never before.

“there’s my sweetheart. good,” his hips jutted and a sweet sigh fell from his lips, the perfect combination of ‘good’ and being your sweetheart bringing him to his own personal heaven.

“d’ you remember our first call? when i said if i got the chance, i’d get my mouth on you? get myself off? and then, you said no, that i could use you… you’d just be my own personal fuck toy,” you looked up at him and he nodded softly, out of breath though he’d hardly done anything.

“yes.. mh, i remember,” he blinked, looking down at you while he tried not to come in his pants from just the way you’d been treating him.

“do you wanna see if you can actually handle that, baby? all that stimulation..” you teased, biting your lip as he nodded vigorously

“please.. yes, baby. please, i’ll be so good, so-“ he chocked on his breath, words coming to a halt the second your hand pressed over the zipper of his pants.

you palmed him slowly, nipping at the skin on his shoulder to keep yourself occupied while he lost any verbal control he thought he had.

“fuck.. fucking god, so good,” his eyes fluttered shut, whines spilling one after the other.. over and over until they got louder, and louder, til he was begging again.

“please.. can i have more? please, baby.. said- said i could have your mouth, want your mouth more than anything,” he babbled, opening his eyes so he could give you a sweet, soft look.

he tugged on his ties, wanting so badly to just touch you, touch himself, even. he hadn’t been sated since the last time he’d called the hotline

he tried so hard, but the thought of you, without your voice or your touch wasn’t good enough anymore

this? this was heaven on earth for him, but he’d still beg for anything you’d give him. beg for more, regardless of if he can handle it.

you gave him a peck on the lips, taking your sweet time unbuttoning his pants while feeding him more and more kisses

once his jeans were pooled around his ankles, he kicked them away. your lips still connected, you slid your fingertips under the waistband of his boxers, never going any further than that.

he whined, yanking at the tie so harshly the shelf he was linked too rattled, cutlery and dishes coming down and clattering around the two of you.

neither of you cared. silently thanking your manager for his refusal to buy real dishes, getting plastic ones in place.

i don’t want any drunk idiots breaking the expensive shit

idiots? maybe. but you weren’t drunk.

“you made a mess,” you mumbled against his lips, leaning right back in and being met with his tongue slipping into your mouth

“the floor or my boxers?” he replied, earning a giggle from your lips.

you waited til you were nearly suffocating before pulling away from him, kneeling down and kissing his hip bones. his light, joking mood switched right back to a needy one, head knocking back against the shelving

you kissed the head of his cock through his boxers, precum having leaked through long ago and giving you a clear idea of where he was most sensitive

“i think the boxers were my fault, baby,” you teased and he hummed, tugging again, more gently this time as to not drop anything on you now that he knew his limit.

you kissed along his happy trail, pulling his boxers down once you got to the waist of them, much to marks enjoyment.

he sighed in relief once they’d hit the floor, kicking them away to where his pants had gone and bracing himself.

you started with your hands, spitting onto him and slowly moving up and down, twisting your wrist.

you swiped your thumb over his head, earning a sweet moan from above you and a twitch of his thigh.

once you were sure he’d had enough teasing, you wrapped your lips around his tip, sucking softly and revelling in the gasp it pulled from him.

the quiet, soft grunts your hand had cause turned into sweet, needy ones the second he felt your mouth, so you went deeper, and deeper, each new inch of you he was feeling making him louder and more careless

and then you did it one last time, your nose pressing against his stomach and a cry following your hum.

you looked up to see him wriggling his wrists in his restraint, desperate to touch you but being unable to work around the knot you’d tied him up with.

“oh.. angel. my angel, fuck that feels so.. perfect, you’re perfect,” he rushed out, now gripping onto the metal bar he was linked to. you hummed against him, earning a sweet ‘fuck’ from the back of his throat

his voice cracked adorably, halfway through a moan. his soft, more or less controlled tone becoming nothing of the sort. gritty and raw, like he was singing after throat surgery

you bobbed your head back and forth, eventually pulling away for a breath, letting mark catch his as well.

the second your lips were on him, though, his hips rutted forward, he’d lost all control.

you pulled away again, giving him a scolding look even though he wasn’t looking at you. his eyes were closed, but he could feel it

“m’ sorry, baby. m’ so sorry, you feel like heaven,” he whimpered, hips twitching once more.

you decided not to be too harsh on him, give him back his stimulation. that was the whole point, wasn’t it? to give him too much to see when he broke. so that’s what you were gonna do.

you didn’t let up until he hissed, fucked into your mouth again, and came. without warning, simply an ‘ah, fuck’ followed by a warm sensation down your throat.

he apologized before you could even pull away, claiming to not have known he was so close

in truth, he was afraid you wouldn’t have given him your permission.

you swallowed, marks eyes going a little wide as you hummed and licked the remnants of him from your lips

“that’s alright, baby. i’m meant to take care of you, remember?” he nodded slightly, but then shook his head

“wanna be good for you.. want you to tell me i’m good,” you smiled, standing back up and giving him a soft kiss.

“tell me i’m good, please? s’ all i want,” you hummed running your fingers through his hair, already sticking to his forehead with sweat even though you’d only given him head.

“i can’t tell you that unless you are good though, hm?” he frowned slightly, eyes begging for you to give him something he’d be able to succeed at- something he could do no problem. he just wanted your praise

“we’re gonna sit over there,” you pointed to the desk chair by the computer, the one you were currently meant to be doing payroll on. “and i’m gonna let you have your hands, baby,”

he nodded sweetly, eyes following your movements as you quickly rid of your shirt and shorts, leaving you in your undergarments

you untied him, leaving kisses along the irritated skin of his wrist, caused by his pulling and tugging.

“sit, baby.” he nodded and made his way over to the chair, pupils blowing wide when you sat yourself on his lap.

“now, you can touch. use your mouth, leave kisses.. but you can’t come until i say, sweetheart.. okay?” he nodded once more, looking up at you while you lifted yourself and slid down onto his length, eyes rolling and fluttering shut from the feel of him.

he bit down on your shoulder once you bottomed out, the noise threatening to spill from him embarrassing at best, pathetic at worst.

you shuddered, gripping onto his shoulders and using him as leverage to ride.

he touched anything he could. his mouth went from your lips to the tops of your boobs and everywhere in between. your neck, shoulders and chest would no doubt be littered with his love bites when he was done

he never used his hands to control you, only squeezed and traced and loved on you.

you could feel the vibrations of his moans against whichever spots he was using for kisses, the nipping not keeping him quiet in the way he thought it might

if anything, he was being louder and the muffling toned it down to his previous volume.

he thought you felt perfect, like he could die right here with you wrapped around him and be the happiest man to grace the afterlife

you hadn’t realized how badly you needed him. how close you already were with just a couple rolls and bounces of your hips against him

he filled you just right. he wasn’t painful, but he certainly wasn’t leaving any room for growth. his moans and whines egged you on until you were fluttering around him and gasping.

your stomach dropped and your world was spinning.

mark had pulled away to look at you, enamoured with the way you gnawed on your lip and squeezed your eyes shut

“mark.. mark, fuck” you whimpered, stumbling over his name and losing your breath.

that almost had him, especially when you started going a little quicker to ride out your high, nearly getting yourself there a second time with the new pace and with mark getting louder

he just stared at you, hoping and praying for your permission before he broke without it.

“you’re so good to me, sweetheart. my good boy,” you ruffled his hair, pulling at it slightly and smiling at the feeling of him releasing.

he gripped your waist so hard you thought you might bruise and his final stretch of moans were so soft and angelic, you wished you’d recorded them so you could add them to every playlist you had and every one you’d ever make

a long string of curses and mumbles of your name followed as you continued to grind against him

eventually, you settled, pressing your forehead against his and chuckling breathily

you kissed him again, and again, his hands going to the side of your head.

“gonna be the death of me, y/n/n”

“s’ one hell of a way to go,”

you leant your head on marks shoulder, the flight attending noting procedures in case of an emergency.

mark kissed your temple, grabbing your hand and rubbing along your knuckles.

“you ready to go home, angel?” you smiled, looking up at him and pecking his lips

“i’ve been home since last night, at the bar. you’re my home,”

#e’s fics #mark estapa #mark estapa x reader #mark estapa smut #hockey imagine #nhl imagine

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yesimwriting · 3 months

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ik i’m in the minority here haha but i see reader not coming from the biggest amount of money — maybe with reader’s parents working in hotels she grew up with some but once her dad leaves for another woman/son he also takes a lot of the money with him, really fuelling felix’s saviour complex?????

no i see this!! i was actually thinking of something along these lines to add some tension!! giving reader's dad financial control could explain why reader hasn't cut him off yet (bc he helps pay for the part of school scholarships can't),, and it could add into the 'one foot in, one foot out' thing bc it's more like she's been around wealth than her being wealthy

i do think reader would very actively go out of her way to try to keep from playing into felix's savior complex tho!!

part of the reason they're so close and why felix isn't 100% sure reader would say yes if he asked her out is bc reader is the only one that doesn't perform for him in any way,,

that's where the trust comes from, reader doesn't pretend or try to portray herself in a way that she thinks he'd like bc she genuinely doesn't want anything from him except friendship and felix embraces and reciprocates it <3

also reader knows him so well and i feel like some of his friends (probably farleigh 😭) would bring up his pension for latching onto someone who needs help early on into their friendship in order to be snarky/maybe make reader insecure

reader would be so focused on trying to not become something for felix to 'fix',, it'd turn into a little bit of a reverse oliver situation,, first real fight is probably felix finding out how bad reader's dad is lmao

#bestfriend!felix #i love creating lore omg #felix catton x reader #saltburn x reader #jacob elordi x reader

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jess-the-vampire · 1 year

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I genuinely don't understand the gripes a few people have with how Belos was handled in the finale. "Dont just brush him off as being evil" Well, why the fuck not? Dude wasnt born evil but he purposefully chose destruction and death at every possible opportunity for 400+ years. Nothing about his backstory would have made any impact on the characters affected, because its not an excuse, its not even an explanation! Caleb had the same childhood and he loved the Boiling isles. Eat boots Belos.

Ok, buckle up cause this is gonna be a long one, we gotta have a chat about Belos as a character, because there's been so many takes about this i keep seeing about " he never accepted the isles the way luz did" and "He had 400 years to change and he never took the took the offer", because it just seems like the fandom wants to kinda ignore a lot of the nuance about his situation and why it's not that simple?

and i'm for sure certain it's because the fandom is obviously already pretty biased against him since he's the villain, and what he does to the main characters as well as represents.

And that's fine, obviously he becomes a pretty bad person, no one is obligated to like him and it's ok to feel uncomfortable given the character he is.

But i think a lot of these issues as to why people have such mixed opinions about the finale has a lot to do directly with the fact the show DID keep his backstory as vague as they did, when if they had gone into it i think we would've had less of this discourse.

Now none of this is me excusing him obviously, but the fandom is very adamant to just not allow him to have depth either, when....he's allowed to be irredeemable and have depth at the same time. He's meant to be a very human villain, a character that could happen to anyone under the right circumstances

So not exploring that depth, why it got how it did, and how things like it can be prevented is a flaw within the show and among a lot of fans.

And to be fair, the show does not HAVE to do it, but the show also clearly wrote his character to have a lot of implied depth whether people like it or not, him coming from a very real religious group alone and making him a foil to luz has turned what could of been a very one note villain into one with a lot of layers to his villainy.

And if the show wants to make belos a very one note villian, no depth, they could of very easily done this by just cutting out details like his love and care for his brother, or just make make him want to destroy witches simply because he decided on his own they were worth destroying.

But that's not exactly what they've presented belos as being.

The show thrives in having characters who aren't just simple nor cookie cutter.

Hunter isn't just some cocky sidekick, he's an abused teenager who craves love and affection, and is willing to go high and low to earn it, terrified to be thrown away and replaced and constantly is forced into a mold just to get the affection he craves. He's highly sheltered and isolated just because his father figure doesn't want him to be his own person since that wasn't what he was created for

King isn't just a tiny little brat who craves power, he's a child whose been lied to about his past, and he wanted nothing more then to be taken seriously and feel a sense of belonging. He believes that he wants power, but finds out he really only wanted to be treated like anyone else, and that he's far happier with a family that loves and cares about him rather then being a powerful demon king.

Lilith isn't just a self important antagonist who wants to force eda to do what she wants, she grew up close to her sister and wanting to be by her side well into the future, but felt a sense of inadequacy in comparison to eda. The pressures of the coven system and need to win against her sister made her make a drastic choice she regrets and she wants nothing more then to fix it and make everything the ideal fantasy they grew up wanting to have together. She's also a large nerd, craves the attention of higher figures since her own mother used to put all the attention on eda, and changed her appearance just so people would take her seriously.

And the show does this with most of it's cast, obvi there's the exception like tibbles and even bosha who don't have too much to them, but they're also very minor antagonists and there's still stuff you can pick up on.

Belos however is the main antagonist, everything that happens in the show, happens because of him, his entire backstory is basically why the plot of the show happens.

Not just that, but also caleb and evelyn, if it weren't for the drama between these three, there would be no show.

And people are WELL aware these three aren't the main leads, they aren't going to be the main focus of most episodes and obviously the show was going to end in the favor of the main characters.

But

the story the show tells between these three ties very strongly into the ones with the leads too. We are given at least enough details to notice parallels between stuff that happens with characters like luz, and characters like philip.

We know philip and luz grew up in gravesfield, we know there were outcasts there, and they had one family member they relied on to support them there. They ended up in the demon realm, they both learned magic, and they both are strongly motivated by their beliefs regarding the isles.

So there's a lot they share in common, which makes it really easy to take a look at philip and say "Well it's his fault for not being like luz and accepting the isles like she did".

But, there's a lot of differences here

Luz grew up with fantasy, with magic stories about witches and heroes and demons. Philip grew up in a 1600s puritan village which demonized this stuff, he was a young child growing up being told this stuff was evil and he was taught to fight against it.

Luz felt odd for her interests and out there personality but at worst she felt isolated and misunderstood, she didn't like her mom's efforts to change her to be "Normal". Philip actually conformed to gravesfield, caleb clearly encouraging his brother to do so, just so both of them could fit in with the town. Had they not conformed at best they'd be isolated, but at worst they'd be dead.

Camilia is an adult who eventually opens up and talks to luz about how it was wrong to try and change her to be "Normal", that she herself hid her own interests to do so.

Caleb, was a child, he did not have any open conversations with his younger brother. Caleb hid evelyn and his interests with witches from philip and then on top of this, left philip behind.

You could absolutely say the fact caleb didn't talk to philip is pure speculation, and not confirmed at all. That all of this could be summed up to unreliable narrators.

But we know caleb left for the isles before philip did, we know it took time for philip to find him again (because his beard grew out), we know caleb had a wife who seems to be pregnant, that he was introducing philip to (Implying he not only hasn't seen philip in awhile, but that eve and philip have never met to caleb) and all of that alone feeds into the fact caleb left him behind to start another life. This is all shown in his memories alone, stuff we can't chalk up to unreliable narrators.

So the most logical conclusion to come to is caleb left philip to start a new family, we don't have a lot of details as to if caleb ever planned to return, if caleb had good reasons to do what he did, or much about his mindset.

But we have enough to know Philip loved and looked up to caleb, that he relied on caleb, and caleb lied and left him.

There is again, reason to tie this back to camila and luz.

but this is not a child leaving a parent behind, this is a parental figure leaving a child behind.

This is what i mean by the issue being lack of clear answers, people claim caleb left when philip was an adult, but we actually have no confirmed evidence for this. We have enough of philip's memories to know 2 things, that he was still a teenager when caleb was meeting evelyn, and he was an adult when he arrived.

You could argue philip was an adult by the time caleb left, but it's so vauge you can also argue caleb left when philip was a child and philip didn't figure out his way to the demon realm till adulthood and there's not enough proof to go one way or another.

now titan dad says philip had no genuine reasons for his actions, that he did this all for glory, but as steve put it back in OTWAT, the titan is just a guy.

And given the collector situation, he can make mistakes and screw up just like anyone else.

Titan dad only sees what he can see and make observations based on what he sees. He saw a human come to the isles with a bias already against witches, who ended up killing his brother, who claimed to come here to save others and that's all he's going to see philip as being. Someone who wants to save others but just hurts them instead.

He has no reason to know what philip grew up under, nor does he have reason to know philip and caleb's story before they arrived. There's no denying philip did love caleb, and that they were close, but that caleb leaving him behind for witches drove them apart.

I think the problem ppl even have with what titan dad says is purely because the fans take it at face value, because let's be honest, most fans will believe the objective heroes for what they assume over the villians. And since the show again, leaves philip's story vauge, and never puts it in the main focus, people will just assume what titan dad says must be the truth.

Like yes, you can pick up on these details if you are paying attention, but most people won't do that, so a lot of fans will listen to the god telling them what philip's motivations are coming from rather then put together the sense of betrayal from caleb that hurt philip that most of the evidence is actually pointing to.

philip had no parents, and had no one but caleb as far as we can tell, and then caleb left him too, like he didn't want him anymore.

And he left him in a bigoted town, alone.

the damage this could of done if he was a child is pretty darn bad, and for philip to assume this happened because of a witch means reinforcing everything he's been taught about witches.

Caleb lied about his changes, so when caleb sees him again, caleb seems to be a different person, which does fit with what philip says to luz about the isles "Brainwashing people".

tho you can argue that that's not the truth, that philip knows caleb did it on purpose and killed him for betraying him, cause of how he blames him in episodes like FTF.

But again, this is the result of leaving things vague, because either situation is plausible.

it's plausible philip never intended to kill caleb at all and he died as the result of trying to protect eve because the show says he was trying to target evelyn to save caleb, and it's plausible he died on purpose out of philip's rage for caleb leaving him. Because guess what? That means caleb had the means to go see him and could've seen him but made the choice NOT to, so yeah, that's pretty heartbreaking.

again, this also comes into play regarding Philips's guilt.

People objectively keep saying philip HAS no guilt regarding caleb, but we have evidence for both guilt and non guilt.

Now, sure, his portrait of dead caleb implies philip is not guilty for his death based on his expression after the fact. We also have the fact philip shows distain towards the grimwalkers, that he never outright expresses he feels bad to anyone.

But, we also have caleb's death being treated as one of philip's worst memories in KT that he objectively recalls in horror, he says he "Tried" to save caleb in FTF, which implies he wanted to save him and that he's mad he didn't manage to do so. The grimwalkers and caleb could be seen as ghosts, but also as hallucinations, and if you are seeing them as the latter then it makes sense he'd be seeing them out of some level of guilt towards having them killed.

If the show had these details explained more fully, it would be easy to either deem belos as being a murderous dick with no remorse who thinks killing was the right thing, or as a guilt ridded stubborn murderer who wants to not acknowledge he was wrong and screwed up.

it's why people are split, because you could objectively choose to see him both ways and the ending will affect you differently depending on what you picked up on.

But now let's talk about philip not changing, because people have bashed him for not doing so in the 400 years he's been there and that he had opportunities to do so but didn't.

And i think this is half right, half wrong.

Philip came to the isles with biases, he basically grew up in a cult, he came in thinking he was traveling into hell to go find caleb. Caleb encouraged his hatred, and then his hatred got further pushed when caleb seemed to be kidnapped, and then further pushed when he was surrounded by nothing but bigots.

So this man was already on a bad foot compared to luz, who was here to live out the fantasy books she grew up on, and objectively would have no reason to hate or fear witches nearly as much.

And we do know while the BI can be compassionate, it also has it's issues, even luz faced discrimination for being human herself while on the isles. Being powerless there is well, not great, it's why luz had to figure out her own way to do things alongside everyone else.

And the Bi ARE dangerous, especially for humans, so it's at least understandable philip is not going to just show up and look past the flesh eating plants, the evil weather, and the lack of anything he can even objectively eat.

Now philip could of considered things outside of his bias, and made the effort to try and look at things from a new perspective. But we also have to acknowledge that it's not easy to come out of this long time brainwashing either, and that it takes time and help to do so.

And philip, didn't seem to have that.

Yes, caleb grew up the same way, but not only was he older, which already set him up to question things more. But he had evelyn, he had someone to challenge him and his views and change his mind.

Philp, doesn't have that, there is no confirmation anyone ever really chose to challenge his views or make him realize he was following a lie.

Caleb could of but caleb left.

All we see is philip, isolated, following the beliefs he was taught and being hostile to witches, and witches rightfully being hostile back, which just further is feeding into his bias.

You can assume philip had chances to change but didn't, but there's no real strong evidence of that being offered to him either. That any witch ever tried to make him question anything.

It's pure speculation.

Now Philip is a stubborn ass dude for sure, so yeah, we can claim he just simply didn't want to consider it.

But people are claiming Philip was shown help that he didn't take and that's just not true. We never see anyone asking him to do the right thing or making him question things, at least not compassionately.

no one to our knowledge ever did challenge him, or did reach out to him, not even in the show itself.

Luz is rightfully hostile towards him even when trying to challenge him, hunter does attempt to try and come up with helpful ideas but he would silence himself if his uncle didn't like it (Not to mention the existing fact that he is supposed to be a caleb replacement so his existence comes from philip not wanting him to change or question things philip thinks caleb should not), and well....collector giving him a hug isn't gonna do anything at that point to stop him from thinking the worst of the isles.

This is partially because belos has the power in scenes, that if he hears what he doesn't want to hear he can quickly silence the individual and ignore it.

He's basically put in situations where no one is challenging him and if they are, they're usually doing it with distain and he's responding like a dick right back.

So maybe not much could of been done when belos has become emperor, outside of some rare occurrences where he has no choice but to listen or if he was challenged by someone he respected and would be less willing to hurt. Maybe he's too far gone to back out now and has too much power to even allow himself to consider what anyone had to say, even if they did do it kindly and wouldn't face his wrath.

but he was only emperor for 50 years too.

So ok, what about before that?

Well, yeah, maybe there were chances he could of been, but that's a period of time we only see so much of, and none of it shows one way or the other that Philip was offered the chance to improve.

I think had we gotten a scene of philip being offered a chance to do good, to consider things, that he knew he was wrong and still rejected it, it would back up this whole "Philip made the choice to not get better" thing people claim.

but truth is, it's speculation, we don't know.

A guy who spent his life buying into where he grew up and came in with biases that became a cycle of him being terrible and witches reinforcing what he thought isn't just suddenly going to change his mind and be nice now on a whim unless those biases are challenged in a way he can't deny.

it's on him for not considering looking on things outside of his bias for sure, but people seem to think doing that is simple and easy and it's really not.

Philip had no evelyn, he was left with no one but his bias and stubborn mind.

It's like king said back in hollow mind " People don't want to believe they've been following the wrong person their whole lives", and philip didn't have a luz like hunter did to help him realize how wrong he really was.

Instead it got worse and worse.

This is why philip feels real, because this can happen to people, that they can grow up with hate and never receive the help they needed to pull them out of the mindset. So they get worse, they become worse people.

and we can argue philip didn't deserve the chance to get better, but you'll never know if you don't try and we don't know if anyone did try before he was too far gone.

to think all of this could of been avoided if caleb actually spoke to his brother and gave him the chance to change...

Tying this all back to the beginning-

Philip's story ties into luz, they are foils in a lot of ways, but people need to remember they have differences outside of luz being a good person and philip being a bad person. Those differences make them into the people they are.

That luz was set up to love the isles in a way philip was set up to come in with a bias against it.

That it is not as simple as "Philip should of just got better" given what happened to him and the lack of help he had.

That philip never really is objectively shown to be offered genuine chances to reconsider his views on the show as much as people keep claiming so, and it's mostly all assumption at this point.

That so much of this argument over whether he's one way or the other could of been fixed if the show hadn't kept things vague.

By doing so, it leaves a lot for interpretation about him and therefore means people will have different views on what he thinks and feels and therefore will have different views on how his death should of been handled.

Caleb and philip tie into camila and luz, they tie into the clawthrone sisters, they are the basis for the plot of the series, they tie into hunter and the themes of being understood and being honest about yourself and conformity and it is no wonder people care about them.

It is incredibly valid if anyone expecting this story, that tied into the plot so hard ,as well as the themes, was upset it felt unexplained or dropped in the finale.

Especially since the fandom, with an obvious hatred for belos, responded to it by treating titan dad's word as god and simplifies philip's story completely despite everything i just mentioned here.

It is perfectly fine if you are not someone who cares about belos, but the people who do are perfectly allowed to be bothered that the show itself kept the complexity vague and not addressed and none of it mattered when it came to how his arc ended.

And that the only person who properly gives a personal opinion of what he thinks his motives are, simplifies him to being evil, and the fandom roles with that and the show never tries to do much to prove otherwise despite the evidence.

because this is a fascinating story about how conformity and bigotry can drive two close brothers apart and it feels like a story the show should of at least dedicated more of an episode to.

Especially since there's no clear idea if we'll ever get extra toh content to really tie any of this up.

Again, none of this excuses belos/philip for what he did, does, or tries to do, no amount of his life being screwed over and people treating him bad and not reaching out to him will ever excuse the fact he went so far.

But let's also just, not pretend it was an easy fix either, that someone can just....stop believing what they believe with the drop of a hat.

Especially given how this can reflect real people who are made into people like this.

He is nuanced, and people are attached to this villain for good reasons.

Nothing is simple about him, and it's just a product of how the show has handled his character.

#the owl house #toh #emperor belos #philip wittebane

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