#and I appreciate how brief it was you get the full feel of the hatred behind it

[danpuff-ao3]

Tomarry Synastry: Make Love, Not War (HP Astro # 18)

It might help to read Harry and Tom's respective horoscopes first, because we're about to dive into their synastry!

So...what what does synastry have to say about it? Are they starcrossed, or is this love story written in the stars?

Before we get into synastry proper, let’s take a brief moment to appreciate some of the smaller details. The fact that both were born on the 31st day of the month; not only the last day of the month, but the thirty-first exactly. Then think of the seasons: Tom, our “cold hearted” monster born in winter; Harry, our sweet summer child with a lion’s heart. There’s a certain feeling of symmetry here that appeals. And while I say this isn’t synastry (and truthfully, it isn’t), astrology itself is built as a language of symbols and connections and deeper meanings.

The birth times even (though in fairness, neither are canonical) tell a story. Tom born in the early hours of morning, when it’s still dark out. Harry midafternoon, when the sun is bright and shining. Darkness (morning) and coldness (winter); brightness (afternoon) and warmth (summer.) Tom born in the third (almost fourth) hour of morning; Harry in the third hour of the afternoon (though earlier in the hour.)

Of course, I’m sure you’re here looking for more than just the vibe (though a lot of astrology certainly is a vibe, at least the way I read it!)

So let’s take a look at the actual chart, shall we?

The most telling point of all is the ascendant: their ascendants are conjunct in Scorpio. Harry’s is at seventeen degrees and thirty-five minutes, Tom’s at seventeen degrees and fifty-nine minutes. Only twenty-four minutes of separation, not even a full degree apart! This is very, very close.

Conjunctions are very close relationships, very tied up in each other. The same energy in the same place mirrored back at each other. Ascendants represent how we react, and how we are perceived. It's first response, first impressions; immediacy.

There is ease in the conjunction, but it can be argued there is such a thing as too much ease. There is good and bad to all things, after all. Ease can lead to stagnation can lead to negativity, even destruction. Especially when you look at Scorpio energy. Scorpio is intense, dangerous. The sharp edge of a blade. The black of night where monsters lurk, and you can't see them. The water overtaking you when you swim out too deep.

Here, I think, we can look at the prophecy, at fate, and find it telling. Was it predestined, or was it Voldemort's decision? It's the whole free will argument that always accompanies talk of fate. But there was a prophecy, and it was fulfilled. And for all the darkness, for all the carnage, it would feel wrong to call it "easy." But wasn't it easy?

Why did Voldemort choose Harry over Neville? Because he saw himself in Harry; and in seeing himself, he saw danger.

And if the ascendant is first meetings, first impressions, when would we say their first meeting was? That fateful night in Godric's Hollow? At Hogwarts, from the back of Quirrell's head? The graveyard? Perhaps none of these were easy on the individuals themselves, but might we see that, perhaps, their enmity itself is easy? Natural? An exchange of energy, of hatred, of fear? Are they so alike that they clash?

Can we imagine where they would stand without the prophecy? (I imagine so, there are many an AU telling that story.) That dark, throbbing Scorpio energy meeting its match in one another.

Challenge accepted.

Of course, the ascendant tells us something more. Sharing a rising sign means they share a chart ruler. Both Harry and Tom are ruled by the same energy.

In classic astrology, Scorpio is ruled by Mars, planet of anger and aggression and sexuality. In modern rulership, Scorpio is ruled by Pluto, planet of death and transformation. I think we can easily see how both could be ruled by both planets. How deeply affected both were by war, and by death.

Tom was born between World War I and World War II, and lived to see WWII in action. Harry was born during the first Wizarding War. And both the First and Second Wizarding Wars were centered around Tom. One could argue Tom began the wars, and Harry ended them.

Then: Death. Merope died after birthing Tom. Lily died saving Harry. The death of their mother cosigned them to life among Muggles, unaware of their heritage. Both were awed by magic. Both found a home in Hogwarts. At Hogwarts, Tom would begin to kill, while Harry would continue to lose those who mattered to him. Tom caused many deaths, while Harry worked to prevent them. And Tom worked tirelessly to elude Death, to become the Master of Death; Harry succeeded in becoming Master of Death, though he hardly wanted it. Voldemort's followers were called the Death Eaters; Harry was called the Boy Who Lived.

But death in astrology is more than Death. Death means endings, renewal, and transformation. Regeneration. Both more or less "became" wizards (as they didn't know beforehand, and were estranged from the magical world.) Tom transformed into Voldemort. Harry transformed from a scrawny, abused boy to a famous hero. Voldemort made Harry his Horcrux (whether he intended to or not.) Voldemort gave Harry his destiny by choosing him as his foe. Voldemort was "resurrected" in the graveyard. Harry came back from King's Cross. He survived the Killing Curse not once, but twice. He was in possession of the Resurrection Stone.

Not only do they share a rising sign, and a ruling planet. For Harry and Tom it is more than that. They share a destiny. And, it could be argued, they share a soul.

Their rising signs aren't the only point of connection in their charts. Aspects, such as the conjunction, are the relationship between two planets, which makes it a big focus in looking at the relationship between two charts (or people.) Not all of them are major, but I will note that Harry and Tom have 37 "main" aspects in their chart (there are many, smaller aspects, but I only look at the big ones.) I won't explain them all, just the ones worth talking about, but I will list them all, if only to point out the scale (such as I did in Snarry Synastry 2: Love, and Other Aspects.)

I'll list Harry's planets first and Tom's second, for ease.

Conjunctions: arguably the strongest aspect. Like energies that amplify one another. Strong similarities.

Ascendant - Ascendant

Ascendant - Moon

Uranus - Ascendant

Moon - Uranus

Uranus - Moon

Mercury - Pluto

Neptune - Mercury

Oppositions: a deep, destabilizing relation. These points are reverse images of one another. Stimulating, competitive.

Mercury - Venus

Venus - Mercury

Saturn - Uranus

Trines: harmonious, compatible. (Arguably boring; inarguably easy.)

Moon - Moon

Sun - Saturn

Mercury - Ascendant

Moon - Saturn

Mercury - Moon

Ascendant - Pluto

Venus - Jupiter

Jupiter - Sun

Jupiter - Mars

Saturn - Venus

Uranus - Uranus

Sextiles: also harmonious; similar to a trine, but more stimulating.

Ascendant - Venus

Saturn - Moon

Uranus - Venus

Venus - Neptune

Pluto - Mercury

Jupiter - Pluto

Squares: stress, tension. Challenging, and compelling.

Mars - Sun

Sun - Mars

Moon - Mercury

Pluto - Venus

Mars - Pluto

Venus - Uranus

Saturn - Mercury

Uranus - Jupiter

Uranus - Neptune

Neptune - Uranus

Let's pause here for a few notes. Firstly, the number of "easy" aspects versus "difficult" aspects. 24 of these are the "easy" ones, and 13 the "difficult" ones. I also can't recall if I've seen so many conjunctions (7!) in a synastry chart before.

Most interesting to me are the amount of "flipped pairs"...I'm not sure how to explain this, but such as: Harry's Uranus squaring Tom's Neptune, and Tom's Neptune squaring Harry's Uranus. I don't know that I've seen so many of those either. And I won't lie and tell you I know what it means, because I don't, but I feel as though it must mean something. Even if it's not definable by astrological standards (though, again, I'm no expert, so it might just be outside of my personal studies.)

Look:

Moon conjunct Uranus

Uranus conjunct Moon

Mercury opposition Venus

Venus opposition Mercury

Mars square Sun

Sun square Mars

Uranus square Neptune

Neptune square Uranus

It's fascinating. There is obviously so much between them, and this makes it feel closer. The red string of fate pulled taut between them; or like a noose around their neck. There is so much symmetry to their story, and we can feel it, even if we don't always know what it means.

But let's return to the realm of what I do know: the next item of importance is their moons trining each other. Now that is a gorgeous aspect to have.

The moon represents emotions, comfort, subconscious, and instinct. When they trine, we see two people on the same wavelength emotionally. A trine (often) means the same element, the same energy expressed. Harry and Tom both have water moons, which shows emotional intensity and a fear of vulnerability. When they connect on an emotional level, it's easy. Harmonious, even. There is mutual understanding, a give and take, an easy-flow between them.

Tom's Scorpio moon reflects (as Stephen Arroyo terms it in Person to Person Astrology) "emotional extremism", and a struggle to hide or express emotions. The moon is in fall in Scorpio, meaning the moon's arena cannot run at full capacity with Scorpio energy. There is difficulty in the moon's domain. Difficulty with emotion. Scorpio is passionate, and has a need to connect emotionally and express their surging passions.

Harry's Pisces moon is generous, compassionate, and idealistic. There is a dreaminess to Pisces, and a drive towards escapism. It longs to connect to and heal others. And while Scorpio energy is one of hidden depths, Pisces is more head in the clouds. At least on the surface. Pisces looks to connect to the spirit and the universe; self-awareness and higher learning. The vibe of Pisces is transcendence, where Scorpio's is transformation.

As water signs, they are both curious and intuitive, and with an air of mystery. If Tom longs to share his passion, Harry is one who can see and accept it. The fire of Tom's heart won't burn Harry, but rather will invigorate him. And if Tom is initially unimpressed by Harry's placid demeanor, he is surprised to find those deep, dark layers he hides. They provide a challenge for one another, and can stimulate each other's desire for hunting and searching and learning.

A brief glance at some other points: staying on the moon, Harry's moon trining Tom's Saturn is an interesting aspect. This is an example of a trine out of element, with Harry's water (Pisces) moon and Tom's fire (Sagittarius) Saturn. There is balance here, with Tom's sense of power and wisdom taking the lead, supported by the security and comfort of Harry's heart. And it is Harry being Tom's safe space that allows Tom to grow, and reach new heights. (Moon here being emotional support and Saturn being discipline and ambition.)

Then we see Harry's Mercury in Cancer trining Tom's Moon in Scorpio. This shows open, easy communication on an emotional level. Being vulnerable with one another, and honest. For Tom this might mean opening up in ways he never has before, and learning (Mercury's ties to communication) more about himself and his feelings in sharing that side of him with Harry. Scorpio tries to hide, remember? As for Harry, Cancer's ties to the moon give a link to feelings of home, nurturing, comfort, and protection. Of course Harry's ways of expressing himself make Tom feel safe. Even if it takes them a while to get there.

Harry's Mercury also trines Tom's ascendant, implying a similar way of thinking and expressing themselves.

As for trickier aspects, we see both of their Suns and Marses squaring one another. Their differences could mean their downfall. In both cases we see men unsure of themselves (sun) being rubbed raw and wounded by the other's aggressive nature (Mars.) We do see them fearing one another's power. Voldemort attempted to kill Harry as a baby from that fear. And Harry himself was daunted by Voldemort's power, and his violent (and evil) actions.

Harry's Mars also squares Tom's Pluto. This means conflict. Big conflict. It feels like a fight for survival. For Harry (Mars) it is his independence, freedom, and sense of self; for Tom it is a matter of power, spirit, life and death. This is a brutal, primal conflict. With luck, the high spark of sexuality will batter down those walls and give them a place to mediate and find common ground.

There is so much between Harry and Tom. They are meant to be, however it plays out. Lovers, enemies, both. Foes fighting to the death. A conquerer and a prisoner, or a king and his consort. No matter the universe, or their circumstances, and wherever fate leads them, they can never be nothing to each other. They will always play a grand role in each other's lives; for better or for worse.

#hp astro #tomarrymort #tomarry #harrymort #astrology #synastry

[chidoroki]

182 Days of TPN - Day 129

Chapter 129: "My Burden"

I dunno if this room is somewhere beneath the paradise hideout or just nearby. Anime gives the impression that this place is under the room the trio were just having their discussion in, but regardless on wherever we are right now, how in the hell did y'all manage to move a demon this large down here? I know Cislo, Barbara and Zazie are strong but could they manage that?

Norman looking almost sad that Emma & Mujika are close, if only because he knows how important Emma considers all her friends, so the emotional ties between them is the main problem. Their bond is only convenient as it'll help locate Mujika later. Also, Cislo's face in the second panel is funny to me.

Of course I shall praise Barbara's voice actresses for how they portrayed her anger in this scene, and as terrifying as her flashbacks to Lambda are, I do like it also gives us a brief look at Goodwill Ridge and the artificial lighting it uses similar to the Grand Valley farms & Goldy Pond, as we found out in the ch77 extra page with Violet & Emma.

Here's your reminder to take your meds. Drink some water. Take a moment to stretch. Eat something. Relax. Take care of yourselves.

I feel so bad for them and how they have to endure these kinds of attacks almost daily, not to mention the trauma that resulted from all those years trapped at Lambda being experimented on. It's clear to see why their hatred towards the demons is so strong.

The way the anime shifts in and out of focus on this one moment is real nice too, as if our vision is getting blurry by our own tears.

I can also appreciate how the anime kept Norman's face hidden during the majority of this conversation. It really enjoys making him seem so cold.

Seeing all those jars full of demon parts really puts into perspective just how busy Norman and the squad have been since their escape. To conduct so many experiments on the demons, among destroying countless farms, rescuing other children, maintaining paradise and making deals with demons is certainly a lot to handle in just about ten months (they escaped Lambda in February and it's currently November, yeah?)

To this day I'm baffled they managed to escape Lambda at all. I mean, I'm still in awe how the fifteen kids escaped GF and that was with mainly Isabella on guard. And I love that woman with all my heart and soul and know exactly how big of a threat she is on her own, but compared to several demons? And with other adults always on watch? How?? I know Norman had help from Smee and whatever else but damn guys.

I can't even blame him about having no regrets or even his choices. Of course Norman's methods are extreme but so is everything else in this world. It's cruel and unrelenting and if you don't fight back just as hard then you'll die. He's simply using what he learned in order to survive.

Favorite panel/moment:

This shouldn't be a surprise. This panel and quote of his is damn iconic. The anime could never replicate the same kind of energy.

#the promised neverland #tpn manga #182daysoftpn #chidoroki used chatter

[maypearlss]

𝐨𝐜 𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐝𝐮𝐜𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 : 𝐦𝐚𝐲 𝐜𝐨𝐬𝐭𝐚

i have genuinely no idea how to properly introduce may without being absolutely feral about her, so we're keeping this part brief: this post is all about the main character of the nona incident!, may costa! and i'm completely fucking obsessed with her by the way! no joke, i think about her and my heart goes crazy and then i get sad that she's not a real person. anyways, moving on to the rest of the post—

oh, may. nobody quite knows what to make of you, do they? least of all yourself.

may is the protagonist of this story. she is witty, affectionate, highly protective over her loved ones, and wildly electric and talented with a guitar in her hand, but most people tend to be more acquainted with her wry, sardonic side. having spent her entire life acutely aware that she is "the other" in more ways than one, may has become accustomed to being disliked, and to fighting any battle that gets thrown her way. but there's only so far fighting can get her when the biggest issue is her own internalized hatred of herself. may's lifelong dream has always been to play guitar in a professional band and live the rock 'n' roll life—and to live her life side-by-side with nona.

at least one of those things is possible. she's very good at guitar.

𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐦𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧 ⋆｡°✩

full name: mayra daniela costa herrera

age: 20 (1985)–tbd

birthday: july 23

pronouns: she/her

sexuality: bisexual

ethnicity: mexican-american

occupation: music store clerk, guitarist

love interest(s): nona darnell, tommy salem

likes: nona, playing guitar, rock music, performing, big dogs, mariachi, leather, pinball, spending time with her abuelo

dislikes: duke, talking about her feelings, people posturing, being alone, neat rooms/spaces

height: 5'7

build: lean, rectangular

hair: wavy, ginger, reaches her chest

skin: light bronze-brown

eyes: hazel (primarily brown and amber with green around pupils)

noticeable features: has a very intense stare no matter her mood

𝐩𝐥𝐚𝐲𝐥𝐢𝐬𝐭 ⋆｡°✩

⋆ bad obsession - guns n' roses

⋆ rocket queen - guns n' roses

⋆ magic touch - aerosmith

⋆ get in the ring - guns n' roses

⋆ heaven's on fire - kiss

⋆ you're crazy - guns n' roses

⋆ mr. brownstone - guns n' roses

⋆ estranged - guns n' roses

⋆ detroit rock city - kiss

⋆ since i don't have you - guns n' roses

⋆ i'll fight hell to hold you - kiss

⋆ bad apples - guns n' roses

⋆ heart's done time - aerosmith

⋆ patience - guns n' roses

𝐟𝐮𝐧 𝐟𝐚𝐜𝐭𝐬 ⋆｡°✩

one of her longest-held nicknames is mayday, which she got from her dad, who was an air force pilot

her playlist used to consist of entirely guns n' roses and literally nothing else. needless to say, their music and the band in general was the single biggest source of inspiration for her character

she plays the bass on top of the regular guitar

she inadvertently caused nona and duke's first meeting, something she's been mentally kicking herself for ever since

she's absolute shit at verbally expressing her feelings

physical affection is her biggest love language, she's very physically affectionate with all of her friends and loved ones—her second biggest love language is "staring at you until you understand that you matter to her"

there you have it, may costa! she's probably the biggest reason i'm so excited about this wip, i know i'm going to have a blast writing her <3 also, thank you for all the reblogs and love for my last post! you're all so lovely and cool and i really appreciate all the support <333

#oc : may costa #wip : the nona incident! #my wips #my ocs #writeblr #creative writing #oc intro #oc introduction #meet the oc #meet my ocs #wipsbymor

[decadentpandawasteland]

Hello! Here is the next entry into my Revenge Series (I really need to come to with a proper name for it). Anyway, please feel free to leave any and all comments! I appreciate your time, and as always, thanks for reading :)

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

After a brief respite of sunshine, the downpour continued unabated. Damien felt a little lighter getting his story out. It gave him an eerie feeling deep in his gut. If his hatred could be cooled just from speaking a few sentences then it wasn't enough. 

“Have no fear, for the fire in your hearth has not diminished,” Wryn said without looking back. 

“How di-, never mind. Where are we going anyway?” Damien asked. They had walked following the wall they had been standing on earlier. This had them walking through the poverty stricken outer ring. These people, known as ‘ringers’ lived in something almost like a tent city. It was so densely packed with people, that some had begun to risk it, sleeping out in the Emerald Sea, the grassland that led up to and encircled Evansguard. 

“You and your wife arrived from outside the Sea, yes?” Wryn asked, pointing to approximately where the little village of Wandering would be. Damien nodded. 

“Why do you think this place was chosen to settle Damien? They easily could have cleared the grassland around here to settle or even climb higher into the Hallowed Mountain. Instead this was chosen. Why?” Wryn asked.

Damien thought as the two continued walking. Beggars would start to approach them, only to see the hooded woman and scurry away. It was kind of unnerving. Normally it took fetching a guard to clear them away from you, but then the guard just shook you down instead. There was an old wives tale about the ringer who could smell a mark twenty strides away, but the moment these guys eyed Wryn they sprinted away. One man was even on a crutch and he picked it up and hopped away. 

“Friends of yours?” Damien asked. He figured he wasn't going to get a response, but he could feel a ghost of a grin hidden in her hood's shadow.

“Of a sort,” she said. Damien wasn't even sure if he had heard her correctly. Before he could fully process it she asked “Have you figured it out yet?”

“It has something to do with the minerals inside of the mountain, right?” Damien asked. 

There was a crowd of ringers in front of a massive board. An armored guard stood off to one side of it, calling out names. Damien recognized it as a jobs board. There were hundreds of papers tacked to the board, some bone white indicating they had been put up very recently, others were a sickly yellow and the ink was barely still legible. The guard standing on the left was only there if the ringers got too rowdy. A man was standing to the right, plucking off papers and reading them out to the crowd.

 

“Twenty bodies needed by the Comstock Farm! Two weeks of work guaranteed! 2 gold pieces per day! Possibility of continual seasonal work!” The crier called out. Four dozen hands shot up. 

Damien knew it wasn't the pay that they were after. Two gold was the equivalent of handing them scraps for dinner. The real prize was the seasonal work. Each hiring site worked differently, but the general rule of thumb is that if a contract was offered for the next five years, your pay would double for each full year. Two to four, four to eight, eight to sixteen, sixteen to thirty-two, and thirty-two to sixty-four. Those hired could choose to freeze the pay raise at any time, but if payments got too high, they'd be too expensive to keep and they'd be let go. 

“Correct. The minerals deep within the mountain are highly sought after for one big reason, they are able to hold highly dense amounts of mana,” Wryn said. Even as they walked through the crowd rushing towards the job board, everyone within a five foot area gave them space. It was eerie.

“Okay, and how does this come into our plans?” Damien asked. Up ahead, he could see a gated off area with a sign. The sign read ‘KEEP OUT BY ORDER OF THE BROOD. ANY TRESPASSING WILL BE MET SWIFTLY BY VIRTUE OF ARREST OR WORSE. YOU HAVE BEEN WARNED’.

“Our plan is simple at the moment,” Wryn said, in a tone Damien had associated with her plotting and scheming. “We are striking against them, correct? In order to do so, we must bolster our own numbers, and in order to do that, we must deliver a blow that will hurt them without getting caught.”

She gestured with her thumb at the gate. 

That's when the plan mostly clicked in Damien's head. Since they had been in public, the two of them were speaking in vague and ambiguous terms, but now it made perfect sense. There were at least twenty mining operations going on throughout the city at any given time, but this one was the most secluded. It also involved hiring exclusively ringers, which meant mining safety was the last thing on the employers mind. Who cares if a few poor souls get lost in an accident, when cutting corners saves you thousands? 

“Who is it?” Damien asked through gritted teeth. He wanted to know who their target was, who was going to pay the price that he and Wryn were setting. He hadn't noticed it before, but he did now. Almost all of the ringers that were nearby were missing a part of themselves. Fingers, hands, whole arms or legs. A man limped by using a pickaxe as a crutch. Some had burn marks from explosives used in demolitions. A boy walked by missing three fingers on his left hand, blood was seeping through the fresh bandages on him. The boy was crying, not because of the lost feelings, but that day's pay having been deducted to cover the cost of the treatment.

“Callum Moren. He owns this mine. Turns a pretty good profit, considering two thirds of his income is snatched away for The Brood. He strictly only hires ringers for the grunt labor, inner-city people make up most of his guards that drive the workforce,” Wryn said. 

The two walked for a bit more, taking a left at the end of the street before reaching the gate. Another left and a right, suddenly there was a warehouse. Wryn produced a key and unlocked it. The door swung open revealing a table, a few chairs, a stove top in the corner with an ice box beside it, and a few scattered bookshelves that were almost bare. The rest of the space was so empty there was a slight echo when they spoke. 

“Welcome to our base of operations, Damien. By the time we're through, we'll have this place packed with those just like us, ready to burn it all down.”

Wryn showed Damien around the space. A hallway led down to sleeping quarters and a bathroom, which thankfully had a shower. “Won't they notice people conning in and out of here?” He had asked after claiming a bunk for himself. The sleeping quarters were big, but with about ten beds in the room, there wasn't much room for privacy. “What about noise?”

“You have no knowledge of magic, do you?” Wryn asked. It looked like she had claimed a bunk for herself, but sure hadn't slept on it. Damien silently wondered to himself if the woman ever did actually sleep. 

“Not even a little,” he said honestly. 

“There are two main enchantments on this building and the grounds surrounding it. Obfuscation and Silence. Obfuscation not only hides, but gently pushes those not granted its protection away.  To most people, it's almost an uncomfortable or eerie feeling in the air, something in the back of their minds telling them to run. Silence does exactly what it sounds like, dampening any sound in the area. 

“You've actually seen both of these in use before you came here.” Wryn said, turning her back to Damien.

She stood there for a moment and something in the air changed. The back of her cloak was dark, but then suddenly, the fabric itself shimmered. An intricate circle formed with crisscrossing patterns filling it in, underneath all of it though was what almost looked like a music note. When Wryn turned around, it almost caused Damien to take a step back. 

Her normal vast amount of darkness that hid her face from him was gone. Long white hair flowed out. Her skin was the shade of alabaster and her face had all soft features, except her eyes. Her eyes were hardened by a loss so vast, it made even the stars look diminutive. The softness of her face was marred in three spots. Three identical lines went from the left side of her face down to the right side of her jaw. It reminded Damien of a claw mark, each line passing over her left eye, her nose, and her right eye.

“Obfuscation rune is placed on the inside of the cloak, silence on the outside,” she said simply. Wryn took the cloak off and shook out her hair. The long white hair was mostly straight, parting down the middle and framing her face. She wore a leather jerkin and simple pants and boots. The woman was much smaller than Damien had realized. The cloak had given her a presence to compensate for her slight build. After fussing with her hair for a moment, the last little detail popped into place. Poking out of her white mane, two elongated and pointed ears poked out. Wryn, Damien realized, is an elf. 

#fantasy #my writing #writeblr #writers on tumblr #fantasy writing

[curlynerd]

Dean Winchester hates mornings.

It might have something to do with the four hours of sleep that precede them. Or perhaps the lingering memories of dragging a grumpy, petulant 12-year-old Sam out of bed for school when he was still an equally grumpy, petulant kid himself. Or maybe he just isn't wired to handle the early hours.

Whatever it is, Dean Winchester hates mornings.

And yet, he still wakes up early every day.

Drags his ass out of bed with a grumble and a sigh. Keeps his curses as quiet as possible so he doesn't wake Cas beside him. Scrubs at the sleep making his eyes gritty. Shuffles into a pair of pajama bottoms and his slippers with a disgruntled huff, like having to deal with the early morning chill is one of life's greatest inconveniences.

At the doorway, Dean pauses and looks back. Cas is still blissfully unconscious, his breathing slow and heavy and relaxed. The second Dean got out of bed he snagged all the blankets and cocooned himself in them, but by now his hand is out, searching for Dean so he can wrap his arm around him again. When it fails to find him, it curls around Dean's pillow. Cas buries his nose in it and lets out a tiny coo of contentment.

Dean smiles, his heart so full it aches. For just a second, he considers crawling back into bed with Cas. Succumbing to his hatred of mornings and going back to sleep with Cas nuzzled up against him like Dean is his personal teddy bear.

But he doesn't. He shuts the door behind him as quietly as possible and shambles down the hallway.

Dean's not quite firing on all cylinders without coffee in his system, so he bangs his shoulder on the doorway as he rounds the corner into the kitchen, and he swears a blue streak on his way to the sink. He's still grumbling under his breath as he grabs the lid of Sam's shaker bottle from the side of the sink and washes it with as much malcontent as he can muster. Sam always forgets to wash it when he rinses out his bottle, and Dean always has to clean it the next morning so Sam doesn't get yesterday's nasty protein shake crap mixed in with today's. He sets it beside the clean bottle and makes himself some coffee.

It's not long after the smell of fresh coffee fills the kitchen when Sam walks in, bright-eyed and bushy-tailed and wearing running clothes like the health freak he is. "Hey."

Dean grunts in acknowledgement. Words are for after coffee. Sam starts making himself a protein shake without so much as a 'thank you' for cleaning his lid. Hell, he's probably not even aware Dean does it for him.

"Oh, can you do extra spinach in my omelette? Gotta use it up; it's getting kinda wilted," Sam asks on his way out the door, like it's a given Dean will make him an omelette. Because it is a given. Five people in the bunker and someone needs to make breakfast for them all. Might as well be Dean. "And tomatoes?"

"Yeah yeah, have it your way, Burger King," Dean grouses as he pours himself a mug of coffee. He dumps what's left and fills the carafe with more water.

"Awesome, thanks." And then Sam's gone off to do horrifying morning activities like jogging.

Dean, however, is doing something even more horrifying. He fills the coffee maker with pumpkin spice flavored coffee and grimaces. But God help him, Cas loves the stuff. And Dean loves Cas, so he'll make him some freakin' pumpkin spice coffee. Though this is the only point in the entire day when he questions his love for Cas. Just a little bit.

As nutmeg and cinnamon fill the air, Dean chugs his respectable cup of plain ol' dark roast and browses the contents of the refrigerator.

Blueberries. He should use those up too. Dean plucks them, some eggs, some butter, some milk, and all of the stuff for Sam’s atrocious vegetable omelette from the fridge.

Jack comes shuffling in while Dean is mixing up blueberry pancake batter, looking sleepy but chipper. He looks even happier when he sees what Dean’s cooking. “Excellent timing! Chop Sam’s tomatoes for me,” Dean commands before Jack even has a chance to say a ‘good morning!’ or grab some juice. The coffee is finally kicking in and dragging him into full wakefulness, but the patient parts of Dean’s brain don’t come online until at least 9am.

Eileen isn’t far behind Jack, but she takes one look at Dean with his spatula and Jack at the cutting board and immediately backs out of the kitchen. “Sorry! Dunno what you’re saying!” she shouts as she retreats, as if she expected Dean to try calling out orders after her. “I’m gonna shower!” Dean sighs and shakes his head. Probably for the best. She handles produce and a chef's knife the same way she does with vampires and a machete.

“Hello, Dean. Jack.” Cas drags himself into the kitchen with half-open eyes. His sleep-rough voice is adorable. The wild shock of hair standing up on one side, even moreso.

“Mornin’ Sunshine!” Dean croons at full volume, like he does every morning, because he’s kind of an asshole and secretly likes the way Cas scowls at Dean’s energy as he makes a cup of his terrible pumpkin spice coffee.

Cas comes up behind Dean and rests his chin over his shoulder to watch him cook, like he’s too tired to even bother holding up his own head. Dean has to be careful how he moves his arm so he doesn’t burn himself on Cas’ hot mug, but he’d be lying if he said this wasn’t one of his favorite parts of the day. Cas tucked up against his back, sleep hazy and warm from their shared bed, those beautiful blues blinking owlishly as Dean makes food for their family.

“Sure you don’t want any?” he asks, pointing down at the griddle even though he knows the answer already.

“No, too early to eat,” Cas grunts by his ear. “Coffee is enough. It smells delicious though.” He tilts his head down to press a gentle kiss to Dean’s shoulder before he pulls away to slouch down in a chair and finish waking up.

By the time Dean finishes breakfast, Sam and Eileen have filtered in too, completing their packed table. For a brief moment it’s utter chaos as everyone grabs plates of food and cutlery and coffee and juice, but before Dean can blink everyone is settled, chowing down on their breakfast or quietly drinking their awful flavored coffee. Dean lets out a weary sigh and sinks down into a chair next to Cas with his own stack of pancakes. It’s way too early to feel this tired.

Almost immediately Cas tilts sideways until he’s using Dean as a headrest again. "I don't see how you can stand getting up so early," Cas says around a slow sip of his coffee. He closes his eyes in appreciation and hums softly.

Dean glances around the table. At Sam, his overly long hair plastered to his sweaty forehead, scrolling through his phone as he shovels egg white omelette into his mouth like he's starving for it. At Eileen, a pleased grin on her face as her closed fist moves in a circle in front of her, her thumb pointed down over her stack of pancakes. At Jack, watching her intently as she teaches him a new sign, his fork suspended halfway to his mouth until a bite of pancake falls off it and smacks onto the table, making Eileen laugh.

At his family, fed and caffeinated and content, ready to start their days because Dean took the extra time to get things off on the right foot.

"I dunno," Dean says with a shrug as he passes Jack the bottle of syrup. He grins. "I kinda like mornings."

#destiel #deancas #dean winchester #supernatural #spn #destiel fanfic #deancas fanfic #supernatural fanfic #destiel fanfiction #deancas fanfiction #supernatural fanfiction #katie writes things #grumpy morning dean my beloved

[mypoisonedvine]

𝗹𝗶𝗯𝗲𝗿𝗮𝘁𝗶𝗼𝗻 || (very dark) 70s!Bucky x reader

𝘀𝘂𝗺𝗺𝗮𝗿𝘆: he tried to be sympathetic to your cause, he really did, but he couldn’t just let you get away with disrespecting him like that.  

𝘄𝗼𝗿𝗱 𝗰𝗼𝘂𝗻𝘁: 2.4k

𝘄𝗮𝗿𝗻𝗶𝗻𝗴𝘀: smut (noncon, plus breeding kink and tons of degradation, like very heavy degradation, and multiple orgasms/overstimulation), misogyny, a bit of dumbification, housewife kink, ‘sir’ kink (brief), choking, implied anal, spitting (not on the reader, unfortunately lmao), quite a bit more than period-typical sexism, awful awful awful this fic is absolutely awful

                            Brooklyn, 1970.

Bucky’s mornings were sacred.  He had his rituals: showering, cooking breakfast, reading the paper and having his first drink and cigarette of the day, all before he left for work.

But throughout this entire week, his mornings had been ruined by the stupid fucking protest in the park just outside his window.  And to think he’d actually paid more for an apartment with a view of the park— he hadn’t realized then that the “view” was gonna be a bunch of hippies creating awful music and an unbearable smell that left his whole apartment reeking of reefer if he dared to open his window.

Attempting to ignore it for a week only made him more resentful with each passing day.  Each time he figured the crowd would surely leave soon or at least be quiet for the night, they seemed to somehow get louder just to spite him.

He probably should've waited until he was a bit less agitated to go down and try to bargain with you, but he stormed down there instead and tapped you on the shoulder when his presence alone wasn't enough to distract you from your incessant chanting.

“Would you consider being quiet?" he asked firmly.  "I have to work in the morning and—”

“We won’t be quiet until women have equal treatment under the eyes of society and the law,” you interrupted to explain condescendingly, shocking him with your icy tone.  He could hardly believe your attitude, in fact he couldn’t remember any woman speaking to him that way in his life: so far, he wasn’t enjoying it.

“I just thought you could be a little more respectful,” Bucky shot back, even more stern.  “You’re not making anyone wanna support your movement by acting entitled and inconveniencing everyone.”

“I’m sorry the revolution is inconvenient for you,” you replied, but it didn’t sound much like an apology. 

He wanted to say more but you blew him off and disappeared into the crowd, leaving him confused and irritated and livid.  Up until now he had been quietly skeptical about all this talk of liberation but now he saw it for the poison it really was.  A girl like you— who could've been a real looker with some willingness to try and a better attitude— talking to a man like him with so much hate and over what, a polite request?

This could not be tolerated; he couldn't let you get away with acting like that.  And lucky for you, he was exactly the guy you needed to teach you your lesson.

The good thing about hippies high on shrooms is they aren’t the most observant.  When he returned to the demonstration area the next night, he was able to grab you roughly and pull you back from the crowd with almost no trouble at all, dragging you into an empty alley and clamping his hand down over your mouth as your eyes went wide and your throat vibrated with silent screams.

“Shh, shh,” he soothed against your ear, “whatcha fightin’ for?”

He liked the way it felt to have you squirming against his grasp, using all your strength and not even getting close to escaping.  

“How does it feel to know I can do anything I want to you?” he growled against your ear.  “C’mon, sweetheart, can’t you put up a better fight than that?  I thought you believed in equality… you should be able to get away if you’re as strong as I am.”

He felt your warm tears trailing down around his fingers which held your face tightly, the struggle of your limbs slowing and weakening slightly.  His cock was already getting hard as he imagined the moment you would finally give in.

“You remember me, don’t you?  You didn’t need to be so rude, darlin’.  You could’ve just been nice and none of this would be happening.”

Your elbow shot back into his ribs and he exhaled sharply but didn't let go, grabbing your wrists and holding your arms to your chest as he pinned you to the wall.

"Oh, that's not gonna work, babydoll.  I'm so much stronger and bigger than you, all you're gonna do is make me angrier.  Is that what you want, sweetheart?  To make me angry?" he asked mockingly, leaning in to lick the shell of your ear as you tried to turn away.  “Pretty girl like you would make a great wife, why would you want anything else?”

Ignoring your struggle, he reached into your shirt and purred as he groped your chest, your nipples hardening when he pinched them.  “Maybe I can get behind this bra-burning thing if it means having easier access to your tits all the time,” he grinned.  “How am I supposed to keep my hands to myself when I can see them through your shirt?  Shouldn’t be showing ‘em off if you don’t want any attention.”

As fun as it was to play with your tits, he had bigger plans, so he reached lower to start tugging down your jeans, your legs uselessly kicking as he exposed your ass and thighs.

His cock was already rock hard as he hastily opened his fly and pulled it out with one hand, leaning back to spit on it quickly.  He spread the fluid with a few strokes over his length, figuring it would be enough to get inside you even if he didn’t really care if he hurt you.  

Your eyes went wide and your head bucked wildly as he poked the head of it against your opening, your body fighting a little harder once again.  The irony of that, though, was that you were already plenty wet in spite of what he had expected; it was so much funnier to watch you struggle now that he knew you were not-so-secretly enjoying it.

“Don’t be so dramatic," he chuckled darkly, "I bet you can take a cock real easy since you believe in all this ‘free love’ bullshit.”

He groaned as he pushed into you, impressed by how tight you were— so tight that it made his cock throb right away, your walls pulsing and rippling around him as he filled you to the brim.

“Oh fuck, there you go…” he hissed, smiling as you sobbed harder and struggled a bit more before finally relaxing into his tight embrace.  "You're gonna take it all, baby, every fuckin' inch of me."

A hard sob choked out of you every time he slammed himself to the end of you; he could feel the hatred radiating from you, the way you would kill him in a moment if only you weren't so weak.  But he could feel your reluctant acceptance, too, and the way it was slowly turning into euphoria— you were finally starting to like how it felt to be helpless to him, it was obvious with the way your pussy gave him such a warm and willing welcome while your pretty tits got even harder.

You clearly wanted to hate him, but your body knew better.

"You think I'm a sexist pig, I'm sure," he chuckled, "but I'm really not— I love women!  And you know what I love most?  Huh?"

He felt you nervously shake your head behind his hand and he laughed.

"I love the way you get so dumb when you get a cock in you.  All those useless little thoughts leaving your head when you're finally getting fucked right."

Your cries got louder even though they were still muffled by his hand, your sweet little pussy giving him a squeeze of encouragement.

"It's okay to like it, babydoll, it's what you were meant for.  Made to be my brainless fucktoy… born to serve me," he growled.  “You really should learn to appreciate," he grunted between brutal thrusts, "that your only purpose is to keep my dinner hot and my cock warm.”

Your eyes rolled back in your head and he felt your walls bear down on him tightly, wetness seeping down around him.

"Oh fuck, are you coming?  Shit," he moaned.  "Looks like you really needed to be put in your place, just needed to be used... god, you made a fuckin' mess, too, you soaked my cock…"

Your little hands tightened into fists, pushing against where his arm held them back, but he stayed steady as he pumped into you, letting himself get a bit lost in the feeling of you while he buried his face in the crook of your neck.

It felt so damn good to have a cunt coming around him, but it was even better knowing that you were fighting it and still couldn’t stop it, completely helpless to how good he was making you feel.

You almost screamed under his hand when he reached down to quickly rub your clit, your back arching to try to run away from his touch; poor thing, you were so sensitive it probably hurt you, but he was having too much fun watching you realize you were going to come again.

"Yeah, gimme another one, slut," he grinned, your legs quivering as waves of slick coated him and started to even drip down your legs.  "Can't stop coming like the dirty whore you are, huh?  Bet nobody's made you come like this before— cause nobody's given it to you right.  Nobody's shown ya what it's supposed to be like when a man takes you and makes you his."

From the way you moaned softly, teary eyes fluttering shut, he knew you liked the sound of that.

"Yeah, wanna be mine, baby?  Wanna be my little slut?  Or do you want me to pump this pussy full and leave you here on the ground for any other man that comes by to use you if he needs?"

You groaned softly, a weak little noise, and he felt his cock flex; as much as he wanted this to last as long as possible, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

“M’close, honey,” he breathed.  “I’m gonna come.”

He laughed breathlessly when you shut your eyes, like you were trying to go somewhere else in your mind, trying to pretend this wasn’t real.  But it was real, and he wasn’t going to let you forget that.  He was elated to make your nightmares come true.

"I sure wouldn't mind pulling out and covering that pretty face you've got,” he hissed.  “It'd be funny to see you go back to your little march and show them how owned you are.  But not today, babydoll, I think there's only one way you're gonna learn your lesson."

Another muffled gurgle from you, and this time it didn’t even sound like protest.  Maybe you were just too tired for that at this point, but it gave him hope that you could finally behave.

"I'm gonna take my hand away from your mouth and you're gonna beg me to come inside you, is that clear?" he grunted, feeling you nod vigorously.  "You're not gonna scream are you?"

You shook your head, and he slowly pulled his hand from your mouth as you gasped for air.  "Please— come in me," you panted.

"Address me as 'sir'," he instructed.

"Please, sir, I— I want you to come," you whined.

He chuckled right against your ear, feeling you shiver in his grasp.  "Honey, I don't give a fuck what you want."

To think you ever resisted your natural desire for submission was absurd now, considering the way that statement made you openly moan, your walls fluttering around him.

“Gonna fill you so fuckin’ deep you’ll never get it outta you, sweetheart.”

One more orgasm washed over you, making him laugh darkly while he watched you bite your lip to attempt to stay quiet; but that was impossible once he fucked you harder just to spite you, having to hold you tight to make sure he got as deep in you as possible.  Your whole body shook as he slammed into you, and he laughed at how dumb and helpless you looked.

"Bet you're on those new birth control pills," he grimaced.  They really weren’t that new, but he still hadn’t gotten used to them.  "Makes me sick to think you're letting a perfectly good womb go to waste.  Betcha want me to breed you nice and deep, yeah?  Wanna get knocked up?  You don't even care that I'm a stranger, you wanna get your pussy filled by any random man's come so you can have any random man's baby, ain't that right?"

At first he had worried that you would scream or cry for help, but now his concern was more that your moans would be too loud and somebody would catch the two of you in this alley.  Even if it was obvious now that you wanted it, public indecency was still a crime.

Good thing he had a new way to shut you up: his hand tight around your throat, silencing your sobs to blessed silence.  It was so hot to have you entirely at his mercy like that, to feel your pulse beneath his fingers, that he couldn’t stop himself from speeding up his thrusts suddenly.

"Fuck, I’m gonna come,” he gasped, “fuck, y-you… little whore…”

He had a habit of running his mouth when he was right on the edge, and the way your pussy was milking him for all he was worth made him spit out whatever filth he could think of.  

“Stupid fuckin' bitch," he mumbled under his breath as he fucked you as fast and rough as he could, chasing his high with no regard for your pleasure or your pain.  "Dumb whore, fuck, you stupid— ah, shit— stupid fucking cunt!"

He cried out as he filled you, groaning loudly with every pump of his seed into your waiting body.  Only when he was sure every drop was inside you did he release his grip on your neck, a loud gasp coming first before a few coughs and chokes that only made his cock harder despite having just filled you.

You started to struggle again, and he couldn’t believe it— after everything, did you still not know your place?

There wasn’t much time to relax and enjoy the afterglow when you were already trying to get away, and so he had to hold you tight again while he smiled exhaustedly.

“N-no,” you stammered, and he covered your mouth again as he pulled your head back to rest on his shoulder.  Clearly he hadn’t done enough yet to fuck that word out of you.

“Where ya goin’, sweetheart?” he panted against your ear, still catching his breath, his chest covered in a thin layer of sweat where it was exposed by his shirt.  “You’ve still got another hole to fill.”

#dark!bucky barnes x reader #bucky barnes dark fic #bucky barnes noncon #dark!bucky barnes smut

[grxvitye]

the easy route.

pairing: mean!sub!natasha romanoff x fem!reader

a/n: i absolutely adore writing nat as a sub, thank you for this req i def need to be drowned in holy water after this-🏃‍♀️💨

anon requested: Hey there hope you're having a good day/ night so far! I was wondering if you could make a Natasha x reader where she's rude and mean towards reader cause she secretly likes R. During Natasha insulting R, R pushes against a wall and starts to tease her cause Nat is flustered and shocked. You can make things fluffy or smutty after, preferably both LOL

warnings: harsh comments, sub!nat, size kink

words: 1.3k | marvel masterlist. | navigation.

you do not have my permission to translate nor to repost my writing on any platform. comments, likes and reblogs are always very much appreciated<3

“Good Morning Ms Romanoff, I apologize for disturbing you but you are needed in the common room” Stark’s AI announced. Groaning, Nat stands up and quickly changes into appropriate clothes, seeing as she was only dressed in a pair of shorts and a thin brassiere. After changing she headed for the common room, confused as to why it was already noisy.

“What is going on here?” She questioned the boys with a smile. “Sit down, Nat I have a lot of important things to say” Tony replied. Quickly scanning the room for an empty chair, she scowled when she saw that the only available room was beside you. She opted to stand up instead, ready to do anything just not to stay with you. Tony noticed her gaze, and immediately urged her to sit down saying “this is going to be long, it's good if you sit down.” Sighing defeatedly, she dragged her feet across the room to sit down beside you.

Once she was settled in, Tony began his briefing. She was completely zoned out up to the point where he said, you won’t be joining the mission considering your “great” performance in the last few missions you were assigned to. Scoffing, she questioned Tony's decision. “Great? She barely made it out alive, she could have fucked up that mission Tony.” You turn to her clearly hurt. You decided to let it go, Natasha wasn’t always a morning person, plus you had to get used to her being mean to you. Although she was mean, there was something different about her gaze, it was longer, maybe filled with need but you brushed it off you must have been imagining things.

Tony paid no attention to Natasha’s outburst, clearly knowing she was going to have a bigger one after his next statement. “According to Fury and me of course, both Y/n and Natasha will be staying here in the compound, excluded from the mission.” He exclaimed with full finality. Natasha couldn’t believe it. Her? Excluded from a mission? And she had to stay with you for god knows how long? God no, she dreaded this. She was about to say something but she was interrupted with loud rustlings of the chair being pushed back, they were going.

The team had already left and you were here, stuck with Natasha. You didn’t mind but you actually preferred it if she had stopped being mean and tried to hold a conversation with you. You went into your room, and changed into a pair of shorts and a cropped shirt. You sit down on the sofa and pick out a movie. You were clearly not focused, your mind kept wandering onto Nat and how her gaze changed. It wasn't a gaze filled with hatred anymore, not what you grew accustomed to. It was filled with something else. You think hard… lust? You shake the thought away, it was obviously dumb. But you couldn’t deny it, you had some a lot of inappropriate thoughts about her. You always had your eyes on her neck, wondering how pretty she would look with your hands wrapped around it. How she’d throw her head back and how pretty she would be, moaning your name.

It was unfair how they left her out, going on a mission and leaving her here with you, knowing that not only did you like her, you craved her. She stands up and wonders what y/n is doing so she gets out and head out to the common room, once again dressed with inappropriate clothing. She sees her, sitting on the couch cross-legged and eyes snapped onto the tv but her mind was obviously somewhere else. Her eyes dragged down and she noticed her body reacting to the skimpy attire you were wearing. She didn't know she was staring until you called her attention.

You snap out of your thoughts when you notice the redhead staring at you with a drool almost seeping out her lips. Smirking, you called her attention. “Hey, see something you like?” She quickly retorts while saying “why would i want to see you like that? You're gross” You pin her to the wall and you absolutely adored seeing her as flustered as she can be while being pinned by you. You decide to make fun of her, all while not letting go of her wrists. “Wow you were so feisty awhile ago, what happened now hmm?” You laugh while continuing “where’s that hate bravado you kept up with me hmm? Where is it?” You adjusted your thighs and you were shocked when you heard a low moan escape Nat’s lips.

You direct your eyes to your legs and you see how it is perfectly nestled in between her legs, rubbing off on her core. “You like that Nattie? Hmm?” you expected her to put the bravado back on but you were completely taken aback when she whimpered and begged. It was a sight, way better than what your imagination could come up with. “Please y/n, please” she begged, low whimpers escaping her mouth. A part of you wanted to let her beg for it more, but you also wanted to take her right then. You immediately picked her up and sat down on the couch while placing her on top of your thigh. She immediately started to rock her hips to your thigh, while a string of her curses and moans filled the living room. You adored no, you love how she sounds. You took one nipple onto your mouth, sucking on it while gripping her back, moaning at the feeling of her wetness dripping onto your thigh.

Her breathing started to become uneven, and her moans continually got louder. You lift her up and she whimpers at the loss of contact. “Shh, i want you to cum around my cock moja ljubov” Her eyes widened when she heard you speak her native language. “I know, I speak russian too sweetheart” you stood up and went into your room grabbing the largest dildo you had. You directly assumed she was a size queen so you strapped it on your hips and made your way back to her. You came back and her eyes widened at how big your strap was. “On your back detka.” She immediately complied and had her back against the couch. You run your thumb over her clit and slowly started to insert the fake cock onto her pussy.

She gasped slightly and you looked at her for approval to continue moving. She nodded and you immediately thrust your hips onto hers and you could feel her walls clamping down on the fake cock as it got harder and harder to thrust in. “Y/n faster please- faster” she begged you, again. With a newfound strength you started going faster while gripping her hips and her nails digging into your back. You licked her nipples, sucking at them while continuing to thrust into her. “Fuck, Y/n, yes” she moaned loudly. “Mhm you like that Nattie? You like me filling up your pussy, stretching it so good?” “Y- yes y/n.. i love it so much, i love it when you fill me up so good” you smile at her submissive frame and you look at her again, lust clouding your eyes. You raised her hips, thrusting into her while rubbing your fingers onto her clit, directly hitting her sweet spot. “Y/n, yes, right there, just like tha- oh fuck, im close, so close baby, don’t fucking stop” “such a good slut for me arent you? come on malyshka, cum for me, cum around my cock"

With a few more thrusts, you felt her clamp down on the strap, shaking while your name and moans fell from her lips. You continued to thrust into her letting her ride her high and you stopped until you felt her breathing become even again. She knelt down, legs shaking and fiddled with the strap. When she finally got it undone, she looked at you intently “it’s my turn to repay you.”

#sub!nat #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x reader #nicole: my writing to pass time #genre: fluff #genre: smut

[favoniuscodex]

love story. [ scaramouche ]

prompt: "god who is playing that godawful music outside my house and throwing rocks at my window. oh. it’s you, with a love confession. cringe but also i accept." w/ scaramouche pairing: scaramouche x gn!reader warnings: modern!au, death threat except it's the equivalent of scaramouche threatening to punt someone across a football field words: ~1.3k words

a/n: lofksdlaslkal i cant wait for canon scaramouche to get revealed and refute all the fanfics where i make him angry AKAKSKJSDJ. first prompt done for the new follower event, number chosen by random.org

it's three am and there's someone blaring taylor swift outside your window. you just want to sleep, yet taylor won't stop singing about how she wants romeo to save her and how she feels so alone. you can relate only partially -- you want romeo to save you from this hell of having to listen to this song interrupt your sleep, but you certainly do not feel alone with the song piercing through the silence of the street you live on, likely waking your neighbors up as well.

deciding you've had enough after about a minute of it, you trudge over to your window and get ready to peek through the blinds to see what idiot was interrupting your well-deserved rest. being a fatui agent was backbreaking labor and the only reprieve you had from it were the few hours you were allowed to sleep in your own residence each night. whoever decided that being a swiftie applied to their little three am rendezvous was about to meet the wrath of your vision and weapon.

however, before you can inspect whatever the hell was occurring outside, a soft plink of something hitting your window causes you to take a step back, startled. you immediately materialize your weapon and step to the side of the window pane, ready to beat up any possible intruder, but nobody enters. another plink resonates through the air, followed by another, which is then followed by another. it creates a steady pattern that is horribly off-sync with the music outside.

what the hell? you taking a deep breath, you use two fingers to pry open the blinds just barely enough to see what's happening outside. was it the safest decision? probably not. outside stands a rather short man holding up a paper sign and, behind him, a car stalls with its headlights on. the car is certainly the origin of miss swift's melodies, yet you have no idea who the short window is.

"(y/n)!" the man yells upon spotting you looking through the blinds. "open the window!"

wait. wait a damn minute. without his traditional uniform, you hardly recognized him (nor did you realize how awful his haircut actually is, but that was an argument for another time). scaramouche. while he often was a headache at work, you never thought that your fellow harbinger would also be a nuisance outside of work as well. was it an emergency? was this some type of secret code for help that you hadn't been informed about?

yet, as you yank on the cord of the blinds, sending them flying up, you realize this is far different from a cry for help. rather, it's a cry for your love, as dictated by the writing on the sign he holds as it glints in the moonlight. immediately, you unlatch the window and push it open, glaring at your coworker in your full half-asleep, pajama-clad glory.

the music dies down rapidly and you feel a sense of bewilderment wash over you. he brought someone with him? you question, but your thoughts are disrupted as scaramouche begins yelling.

"(y/n)! i wish to court you!" the harbinger yells and you quickly come to a few conclusions. one: this man has never asked anyone out in his life. two: he asked someone for advice on how to ask you out. three: that person who gave him said advice led him horribly, horribly astray. you quickly run through a mental checklist of who it could possibly be. la signora wouldn't care enough to give him any other advice than "just ask them out", dottore would probably suggest for scaramouche to kill someone to prove his love and childe... yeah. it was definitely childe.

"um," you yell back, not entirely sure what to say. "hold on!"

you back away from the window and hastily shove your feet into the closest pair of shoes. you yank a robe from your closet and wrap it around your figure, securing it by tying it around you as you exit your house and make your way over to scaramouche, who stands on your front lawn still. as you approach, the harbinger sets the sign down next to him and picks something else off the ground, thrusting it in your direction.

in a t-shirt and jeans, scaramouche looks completely... different as he was missing the attire that made him normal in your eyes. you blink at him before glancing down to the object he's presenting you and your heart melts at the gesture. in his hand rests a bouquet of roses.

"well? are you going to take them or not?" scaramouche questions, waving them at you slightly. you let out a light laugh at his indignant behavior and take the bouquet from him, making sure to brush your hand against his as you do so. in the light provided by both the moon and the streetlight, you notice a blush creep across his features as he feels the touch of your hand against his.

"yes," you respond, causing his indigo eyes to look at you with confusion. "to your proposition from earlier. i will let you court me."

"of course. i expected nothing less," scaramouche responds, but you notice his relief in the way he stands up a little straighter and his expression relaxes. "i have brought a poem of my affections as i was instructed to do s-"

"scaramouche," you begin, tone soft. his arrogance lessens as he visibly perks up upon hearing you say his name. "if i may ask, who told you to do all of this?"

"i... sought advice from tartaglia," he confesses and you let out a long sigh.

"i... appreciate the gesture," you reassure him. "but... next time, just ask a person out casually. this kind of stuff is only ever really done in movies."

scaramouche looks at you blankly. "so he lied to me?" his voice is deadpan and, you decide, that scaramouche has finally transcended the typical realm of his anger and entered into sheer fury.

"yes, but uh. the flowers were nice!" you hold up the bouquet to prove your point. "very nice. i liked them."

scaramouche seemingly forgets about his hatred of the eleventh harbinger for a brief moment as you hold the flowers up to your nose, sniffing the roses slightly. a gentle smile crosses his face and he takes a step closer to you, carefully placing one of his hands on the forearm that holds up the bouquet. as scaramouche begins to gently push it down, leaning in close to close the distance between the two of you, a honk from the stalled car has the both of you jumping away from each other, startled.

"did they say yes?!" you hear the familiar voice of tartaglia yell from the car. you and scaramouche exchange glances before looking over at the car.

"start driving, tartaglia," scaramouche orders as electricity begins to crackle in his palms. "because i am going to kill you."

a brief moment of silence occurs before taylor swift returns at full volume. before scaramouche can sprint over and give childe a piece of his mind, the car switches into drive and speeds off, not wanting to incur the wrath of scaramouche upon it. for once, childe has a brain, yet you can only thank him for everything upon seeing the adoration in scaramouche's eyes as he finally turns back to you.

you move your hands out of the way as scaramouche steps closer to you, placing a hand on your cheek to stabilize the connection between of you.

"now that he's gone, where were we?" scaramouche asks, but before you can answer, scaramouche closes the distance between the two of you, placing his lips on yours.

#thriving with the headcanon that scaramouche knows absolutely nothing abt romance #scaramouche: childe how do u ask someone out #childe upon realizing what opportunity scaramouche has just given him: well u see- #scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #axia's writing #axia's 3.5k follower event

[revenge-of-the-shit]

Writing Chinese characters set within Western worlds

If you don’t want to read it on tumblr, go check this out on medium or go follow me on instagram at @annessarose_writes!

Alright. You know what. I’ve seen plenty of stereotypes in fiction (and in social media) that are so incredibly pervasive I’ve seen many Chinese people within the western world internalize it themselves. So here’s a rough guide on writing Chinese characters in an English-speaking Western setting, written by me, a Chinese Canadian woman.

If you’re here to say something racist fuck off. Otherwise, welcome! This is not a comprehensive guide by any means. This is merely a brief overview based on my own experiences. My experience (as someone in North America) will differ from someone living in, say, Europe or South America. I’m not representative of every Chinese person because everyone’s experience is unique. So here were are.

1. Our names

Chinese names are usually written as follows: [family name] [name]. Let’s take a Canadian historical figure as an example: 黃寬先. In Chinese, it’s pronounced “Wong Foon Sien.” On Canadian documents — which are written [First name] [Last name], he’d be called “Foon Sien Wong.” He went by “Foon Sien” for most of his life. That’s his full “first name.” Nobody would call him Foon because that’s just half of his name (unless given permission). It’d be like meeting a stranger called Alex and calling them “Al” right off the bat. Sure, they could go by Al, but you don’t know that.

For those of us living in the Western world, some of us have both a Chinese name and an English name. In these cases, our Chinese name becomes our middle name in English (e.g. a character could be called John Heen-Gwong Lee).

For some people who immigrated to the Western world but were born in China, their legal name would be their Chinese name. Some choose to keep that name. Some choose an English name as their “preferred” name but keep their Chinese name on legal documents. It varies.

2. Parents & Stereotypes

There’s two stereotypes which are so pervasive I see it being used over and over in jokes even within Chinese (and, to a larger extent, asian) communities:

The [abusive] tiger mom and the meek/absent dad

Both parents are unreasonably strict/abusive and they suck

I have yet to see any fiction stories with Chinese parents where they’re depicted as kind/loving/supportive/understanding (if you have recommendations — please do send them my way). Not all Chinese parents are tiger parents. Chinese parents — like all parents — are human. Good god. YES, they’re human! YES, they have flaws! YES, they are influenced by the culture they grew up in!

That isn’t to say there aren’t parents like those tropes. There are. I know this because I grew up in a predominantly Chinese community where I had many a friend’s parent who was like this. Parents who compare their kids to the best kid in class. Parents who force kids into private lessons and competitions that the kid despises because the parents think it’s for the best. Parents who have literally called their kid a disappointment because they didn’t get 100%.

But please, also consider: there’s parents who support their child’s goals and who listen. Not all parents force their kid into the stereotypical trifecta of lawyer/doctor/engineer — I know of a good number who support their child in choosing the path they want. There’s parents who make mistakes and learn and try their best to support their child. So please, for the love of god, if you write a Chinese character, don’t reduce their parents to stereotypes.

3. Language & Learning

When I first read The Son of Neptune by Rick Riordan, I was so excited to see a Chinese Canadian character in Frank Zhang. Finally, there was someone like me. Finally, there was representation in well-known western media.

While I do appreciate that RR added in Frank Zhang, it’s pretty obvious that he didn’t really know how to write a Chinese Canadian character. One of the most glaring examples: in The Son of Neptune, Frank reveals he can’t really read Chinese. In like, the next book (I think — it’s been a while since I read it), Frank is suddenly able to read Chinese because he “learned” it in two week’s time.

Nope. Nuh-uh. Learning Chinese is a pain, let me tell you. There’s thousands of different characters and it is something you need to devote a lot of time to learning (especially if you’re progressed past the best childhood years for learning a language). So if you’re writing about a Chinese character living in the western world, here’s what you need to know:

A character who was born and raised in the western world does not necessarily know how to read/write in Chinese.

If they were raised by their own family, the character would very likely know how to speak their own dialect. They’d be able to understand the language used in movies/TV and they sound like a native speaker, but they may not know how to use language outside of certain contexts (the term for this is heritage speaker).

They probably went to Chinese school. They probably hated it. Chinese school is usually universally hated and does not teach you jack shit other than a hatred for the place and a vague memory of learning how to read the language without actually retaining knowledge of what you learned.

Most of my friends who know how to read/write in Chinese learned from tutors, parents, or were born in China.

There’s two main types of written Chinese: Traditional (used by Cantonese speakers) and Simplified (used by Mandarin speakers).

There are MANY other dialects (which I don’t know much about). The most common ones are Mandarin (usually spoken by people from the mainland), then Cantonese (usually spoken by people from Hong Kong).

4. Fitting into the community

Usually, the story is one of two things: they’re the only Asian kid in the entire school, or they grew up in a predominantly East Asian community. Things to consider for both of these when you’re writing:

Growing up the only Asian kid

They’re “that Asian kid.” They’re different. They walk into a class and feel weird and out of place.

They bring food from home (usually ethnic cuisine) to school. Other classmates stare at it, make fun of it, demand what that strange food is.

“Where are you from?” “Here.” “No, like, where are you really from?”

“Your name is funny.”

People literally never getting the character’s name right.

And that horrible, horrible feeling: wishing that they were white so they could avoid all of this.

Growing up in a predominantly East Asian community

It’s not uncommon for Chinese cuisine to mix with other east Asian cuisines. For special occasions (or just for a casual night out), your character could very well go out to get some sushi, or go for some KBBQ, or get some Vietnamese noodles.

Screaming “AIYAA” at/with their friends unironically if they’re annoyed (I’ve done this a lot with Cantonese friends. Less so with Mandarin friends).

Slipping into Chinese for like, two words, during a mostly-English conversation to talk about food or some other topic that can’t be adequately conveyed in English.

Reading books by white authors and learning about white history and growing up thinking white names, white books, and white history is the norm and standard even though the community is surrounded by East Asian people.

When the character leaves this community, there’s a brief culture shock when they realize how sheltered they’ve been.

Things in common for both of these:

The character has grown up on ethnic cuisine. Yes, Chinese people do eat rice with many of our meals. Yes, boba (bubble) tea is extremely popular. No, rice isn’t the only thing we eat. No, not all Chinese people love boba (though as a Chinese person I admit this sounds sacrilegious to say…)

The character likely grew up watching film/TVthat originates from East Asia. It’s not uncommon to watch Studio Ghibli films. It’s not uncommon to watch Japanese or Korean shows with canto/mando dub (examples: Ultraman, Kamen Rider). If you want to see a classic Chinese film from Hong Kong that’s fucking hilarious, watch Kung Fu Hustle.

The character has felt or been told that they’re “too westernized to be Chinese, but too Chinese to fit into the western world.” They’re torn between the two.

5. General portrayal

It’s quite simple, really. We’re human. We’re regular people. We have regular hobbies like all people do. We’re good at some subjects and bad at others. We have likes and dislikes like all people do. So here’s a list of stereotypes you can avoid.

STEREOTYPES TO AVOID BECAUSE WE’RE REGULAR HUMANS AND WE DON’T FIT INTO A SINGLE COOKIE CUTTER SHAPE, DAMMIT.

The character is a maths whiz and perfect at all things STEM.

The character is a straight-A+ gifted/IB/AP student.

The character is the next coming of Mozart and is amazing at piano/violin.

The character’s free time is spent only studying.

The character is insanely good at martial arts.

The character is either meek and submissive or an explosive, dangerous force.

I’m not going to mention the other stereotypes. You know, those ones. The really obvious ones that make fun of and demonize (sometimes through multiple untruths) how we look and how we live our lives. You should know.

Of course, there are people who fit into one or more of these. That’s not the point. The point is: molding all Chinese characters to these stereotypes (which white media tends to do) is harmful and reductionist. We’re more than stereotypes.

—

6. Conclusion

We need more diversity in portrayal of Chinese characters. Reducing us into one-dimensional caricatures has done nothing but harm us — look at what’s happening now. This guide is by no means comprehensive, but I hope it has helped you by providing a quick overview.

If you want to accurately portray Chinese characters, do your research. Read Chinese fiction. Watch Chinese films/TV. Initiate a conversation with the community. Portray us accurately. Quit turning us into caricatures.

#non sw #writing #writing reference #reference #writing bipoc characters #Chinese representation #asian representation #asian characters #chinese characters #stop asian hate #chinese diaspora #chinese american #chinese canadian #writing guide #abuse tw #racism tw #long post #annessarose writes

[swiftsalchemy]

Snow White - Diluc Ragnvindr

A/N: I had a dream about this last night & ever since I couldn't help but think about it. so now I'm writing this to make sure it gets stuck in your head too. remember to drink water! :) also this may not be written the best since I’m really sick atm and a little out of it.

summary: diluc ragnvindr is in love with you and a certain brunette woman gets a little too jealous

pairings: diluc ragnvindr x female!reader

warnings: poison, themes of death, fluff

word count: 3.7k words

    It was safe to say that you were the most desirable woman in Mondstadt. Not only were you pretty, but you were kind and incredibly friendly. You also were quite the hard worker - always going out of your way to help others in need. Despite working as Lisa’s assistant in the library from the early hours in the morning to late at night, whenever you got a break, you would always head into the center of Mondstadt and help any way you could. Your most favorite person to help out was Diluc Ragnvindr.

    You often stopped by the Angel’s Share on your breaks and would help serve people drinks to ease the workload on other’s in there - even Diluc himself. Due to this, you often saw Diluc and you two grew rather close. Even though you were a worker in the Knights of Favonious, he admired how desperate you were to help those who lived in Mondstadt whenever you could. Plus, you were always so kind to others - no matter how rude anyone else was to you. 

    Occasionally during your late nights helping Diluc at Angel’s Share, you two would share those special moments. You two never kissed nor brought it up to each other after the fact. However, your meeting gazes, almost too close bodies, and hands overlapping or bumping into each other caused you both to slowly fall for each other. 

    Diluc often would be extra sweet to you and bring you lunch and gifts while you were at work. Sure, he didn’t like being in the Knights of Favonious building but if it meant that you were taken care of while you were at work it brought him a peace of mind. Rumors spread like wildfire around Mondstadt that you were Diluc’s girlfriend. You both always denied the rumors, but your actions towards each other made the entire town not believe you two. 

    Most of Mondstadt liked the idea of you two being together, two hard-working citizens finding comfort in each other. However, there was one woman who despised you for getting so close to Diluc, Donna. She believed you had used witchcraft on the firey red-head and bewitched him into dating you ( which you weren’t even in that kind of relationship anyway ). So, she wanted to take the matter into her own hands and end whatever relationship you and Diluc were sharing.

    Donna had heard of a local witch that lived just outside of Mondstadt who specialized in poisons. One night, Donna had left the stone walls that echoed the whispers with the rumors about yourself and Diluc, her recallings of everyone talking about you two only fueled her enragement more. She walked over the stone bridge and into the nearby forest. She had only a dagger and a lantern that emitted a yellow glow out into the dark woods. Unlike you, she had no hydro vision that balanced out with Diluc’s pyro vision so well. She was just a normal girl who lived a very unimportant life.

   Eventually, Donna made it to the wooden cottage where the witch lived. It was so dark and menacing looking ( even with her lantern lighting up the building ). A part of her wanted to turn around and go back into her safe home. However, she would never turn away this chance to make you pay for stealing her precious Diluc away. 

    The woman gingerly approached the rotting wooden door of the cottage and raised her fist, knocking it softly against the door. Donna waited a few seemingly long moments, her heart racing with each fleeting second. Slowly, the door had opened before Donna and a tall, youthful woman stood before her. The woman looked around her mid-twenties and had black hair that flowed from her scalp to beautifully. There wasn’t a single dark curl that was out of place. Glowing yellow eyes peered at Donna as she sized the visitor up. 

    “ Let me guess what you’re here for, one of my varying poisons, no?” The tall woman asked, her voice melting in Donna’s ear. It was so collected and warm - it matched perfectly with the vibe the woman had.

    Donna nodded, “ yes ma’am. I need a poison that’ll kill the woman who seeks to take away my lover,” she answered, her previous rage was bubbling back up in her chest. Donna despised you.

    The witch laughed, raising a pale hand to cover her red-stained lips. “ None of my poisons kill. However, they all are extremely difficult to reverse the effects of. It’ll take far much more than an antidote to wake your victim up from their deep slumber. “ For a moment, the woman disappeared back into her dark cottage. Donna narrowed her eyes, trying to find the woman and see what she was doing. However, it didn’t take very long for the witch to come back to the door. This time, she held a woven basket filled to the brim with apples in her fragile hands.

    “ Here, these will do your job perfectly. Just give one to your victim and watch as your victim chokes on the poison-filled apple and falls into a deep slumber,” she spoke, holding the basket out to Donna. 

    Donna took the basket, holding the handle tightly in her free hand. “ How much do I pay you?”

    The woman shook her head, “ there’s no need for that. I do not require payment, Mora is unnecessary to me. “

    “ Oh- ok. Thank you ma’am, I really appreciate it,” Donna said before the witch nodded and closed the door on Donna - ending their conversation. The brunette smiled slyly as she looked down at the basket with poisoned apples in her hands. Finally, she would get her revenge on you. Making everyone believed you had died and then she would swoop in and be the shoulder Diluc cried on. From there, she would make him fall for her. It was a perfect, foolproof plan.

    Donna eventually made her way back to Mondstadt. She blew out the light on her lantern and slid her hood further down to cover her face. She knew around this time you would just be walking home from Angel’s Share. It was the perfect place to poison you, no one would be awake to see it. 

    She spotted you approaching your house, and Donna began to make her way over to you. “ Y/N!” She called out excitedly, acting as if you two were the best of friends. The woman was excited, not to see you but to see you suffer right in front of her eyes. 

    You turned your gaze to look at Donna, a bright smile adorning your face. “ Donna, hey!” You called out back, making sure to keep quiet and not wake up your neighbors. “ What’s up? Is something wrong?” You asked Donna as the woman approached you.

    “ No... No, nothing’s wrong. I was just out apple picking, people say they’re best picked at night, and I wanted to have you try one. I trust your judgement and wanted your insight on if I should put them in a pie or not,” Donna explained, trying to make sure that you couldn’t tell she was lying about the situation.

    You eagerly nodded. “ Sure, I’d love to! I’m pretty hungry anyway,” you responded, your voice so full of kindness and innocence. For a moment, Donna almost felt bad about doing this. However, she couldn’t risk you getting with DIluc and taking him away from her forever. 

    Donna took the shiny red apple on top and handed it over to you, another wicked smile coming onto her lips as she watched you take the red apple with your hand and hold it up to your lips - taking a large bite out of it.

    An initial taste of sweetness hit your mouth and you were about to tell Donna how good it tasted when suddenly the chunk of apple got stuck in your throat and a new bitter taste emerged. Everything that was in your hands dropped to the stone pavement below you as you lifted your hands to your throat. Trying to cough up the bite of apple that was stuck in your throat. You couldn’t breathe and the bitter taste was getting worse by the second. Your eyes met Donna’s for a brief moment and the friendliness that was once in her eyes got replaced by pure hatred and amusement of your suffering. You felt betrayed, someone you trusted had just fed you a poisoned apple and was smiling about it.

    Diluc, who wanted nothing but your safety, had followed you home. Always staying a good distance away so you couldn’t tell that he was following you. When he turned the corner to look at your doorway, expecting to see you enter your him, his heart dropped when he saw your body stumbling back and a cloaked figure standing before you.

    Donna glanced behind you, her body panicking when she saw a familiar firey red-head rushing in her direction - having just watched the whole thing unfold. She quickly turned away and began sprinting away from the scene. The last thing she wanted was Diluc knowing that she was the one behind the whole thing. 

    Just as you were about to fall backward onto the pavement, losing most of your body strength and consciousness, Diluc had just gotten to you and caught you in his arms. He held you tightly, your back resting on his forearms. He almost though about chasing after whoever did this to you, but the moment his eyes saw your struggling body and pained face any desire to chase your attack vanished. Now, all Diluc wanted was to get you to help. He wasn’t about to see another person he loved so dearly die in his arms again. 

    He lifted you up in his arms, holding you bridal style and he briskly began to make his way to the church. Diluc didn’t know how to help you and he knew that one of the sisters would be there and could get you to Barbara to help. Every step he took, he moved his legs faster and faster - feeling your breathing slow and seeing your eyes start to close. The apple chunk had almost finished dissolving, leaving poison now running into your system. As he ran, flashback’s from his father’s death began replaying in his head. He couldn’t let you die, he wouldn’t let it happen again. 

     Diluc had just barged into church, startling all of the sisters that were inside praying, when you had succumbed into your deep slumber. The sisters had quickly rushed over to Diluc, staring at your seemingly lifeless looking body.

    “ Get Barbara please,” Diluc said, some what annoyed by their lack of action. At once, one of the sisters left and rushed into a side door of the church. Moments later, she returned with Barbara and Acting Grandmaster Jean.

    Jean was startled to see Diluc standing in the church looking so distressed. Until her gaze fell on your body being held tightly in his arms. “ What happened?” she asked as the trio got closer.

    “ I was following Y/N home as usual when I saw her stumbling away from a cloaked figure. When I got to her, she was struggling to breathe and losing all consciousness. Can you help her?” He asked, trying to keep himself composed. The last thing he wanted was for everyone to see him get upset.

    Barbara nodded, “ I can take a look at her. Do you know what the person might’ve given her?” she asked as Jean carefully took your body from Diluc’s arms and held them tightly in hers. After that, she began to carry you to the infirmary. 

    “ No- But I can go back and see if there was anything left behind that would’ve caused this. I’ll be right back, “ Diluc responded back to Barbara. At once, he exited the church and ran back to the front of your house just as quick as he ran leaving there. He looked around on the dark ground, looking for anything that looked like it could harm someone. 

    At first, he almost went back to the church empty handed when the gleam of  a round object hit his gaze. Diluc walked over to the object and crouched down and grabbed the object. Upon closer inspection, it was an apple with a bite taken out of it. He lifted the apple to his nose and inhaled the scent from the bite. There was an overwhelming amount of sweetness, that would’ve masked a bitter smell if Diluc wasn’t used to sniffing out different scents from his wines. He took the apple away from his face, furrowing his eyebrows. There was no doubt that this is what the person used to harm you. The apple was laced with something. Standing back up, Diluc once again made his way back to the church.

    Back inside the church, Jean set you down on one of their open beds. Staring down at you sadly, feeling sympathetic for Diluc. Despite his greatest efforts, Jean knew that he was distressed. The others may not have, but she could see it as clear as a sunny day. Barbara entered the infirmary shortly and took a seat next to the bed you laid on. The younger girl looked at you, studying your body movements. You looked still, as if you were dead, but the girl felt a faint heartbeat. You were still very much alive. 

    The familiar red-head came back to the church, this time bringing an apple with him. “ This was all I found. It’s not a normal apple - there’s an unusual scent on it,” He explained to Jean and Barbara, handing it over to them.

    “ Thank you for bringing this to us. I’ll have Albedo and Sucrose take a look at it later,” Jean said, nodding her head at Diluc. “ If anyone can find out what’s something’s made up of - it’ll be those two. I know you don’t like the Knights of Favonious, but please, put your trust in us this once. We’ll figure out what’s wrong I promise. I suggest you go back home and get some rest, go back to your daily life. It’ll be a while before we can try anything to get Y/N back to good health.”

     Diluc didn’t trust the Knights. They had let him down in a time of need and they could very well do it again. However, he did trust Jean and if she made a promise, she would see that her promise got fulfilled. “ Alright,” he gave in, letting out a tired sigh. “ Please, as soon as you find something out. Let me know.”

    “ I will,” Jean told him, giving the man a tired but honest smile. With that, Diluc said his goodbyes and walked out of the church. 

                                                    _______________

    Albedo and Sucrose eventually came back with the results of their testing they did on the apple. They had discovered that there was a poison inside of it. Not a deadly one, but something to keep a person quiet for a very long time.

    The citizens of Mondstadt took quick notice of your absence everywhere and was constantly asking Knights where you were. So much so, that Jean had to release an official statement that you were currently terribly sick and bed-ridden for a long time. Which wasn’t that far from the truth. Barbara and the rest of the sisters had all tried their hardest to find some antidote for the poison that seemed to ever linger in your system but to no avail. It’s like there was no cure and you were doomed to stay in this state forever.

    As much as Diluc tried not to, he couldn’t help but lose faith in you ever waking up again. Donna had seen his saddened state and couldn’t help but smile to herself, her plan was working. However, as much as she tried to get close to Diluc and be the person he vented to - all of her efforts were for nothing. The man didn't want to talk to anyone that he didn’t have to. Her grand plan had his a wall. Especially when one day Barbara barged through the doors of Angel’s Share, a brand new idea on how to wake you up.

     The blonde approached the bar Diluc was working at, heavy breaths coming out of her mouth due to the fast running she had just stopped doing. “ Diluc... I have... an idea...” Barbara said in between pants. 

    Diluc looked at the Deaconess furrowing his eyebrows at his words. Had she really come up with something that might wake you up? “ What is it?”

    “ You know, in those fairytales about how true love’s kiss is the strongest thing? Well, what if you...” She trailed off, hoping Diluc picked up on what she was saying. It sounded childish, but it worked in every fairytale she read so who says it can’t work now?

    “ You want me to kiss Y/N in hopes that’s what can wake her up?” Diluc asked in disbelief. He set down the glass tankard he was cleaning on the wooden top of the bar. 

   “ Yes, I believe it’s worth a shot.” The two stood across from each other in a long silence. Before Diluc nodded, letting out a sigh. Barbara smiled at his agreement to the idea. Jean was actually the one who encouraged Barbara to bring it up to Diluc, she knew he was desperate and would try anything. No matter how outlandish it seemed. 

    The two made the all-too familiar walk to the church in silence. They entered the infirmary, Diluc frowned at the state of you still under the spell of the poison. He thought for a brief moment that maybe this was all just a hoax and when they arrived at the church, you would actually be awake. However, his hopes were false and this crazy idea Barbara had was really a possible antidote.

     Jean looked up from her pile of work once she heard the footsteps enter the infirmary. She gave Diluc a tired smile and stood up from her seat, stretching slightly. “ Barbara and I will leave you two alone. I do hope this works,” Jean said softly, walking past Diluc and grabbing Barbara’s hand as they left. Leaving only Diluc and your almost still body alone in the room.

    “ This is bizarre,” Diluc whispered to himself as he approached your bed and looked down at you. He leaned down, his face hovering only inches above yours. Slowly, he closed his eyes and closed the remaining distance, connecting his lips and yours. He kept his pressed against your soft ones for a few seconds, resting the palm of his hand on your cheek.

    A few moments passed and he opened his eyes, standing back up. He watched your body for a moment, biting his bottom lip in anticipation as he waited for something to happen. Just as he was about to leave the room in defeat, a twitch of your eyelids made his chest soar with happiness.

    Slowly, your body was starting to wake up. Your eyes fluttered open and the the first thing you saw was the cream colored ceiling of the building you were in. 

   “ Y/N...?” A voiced called out from your side and you slowly flickered your gaze to your right, seeing Diluc standing next to you. His face contorted with disbelief and happiness. You quickly sat up, moving to stand up, when Diluc’s strong arms had picked you up. He pulled you into a tight hug as he buried his face into the crook of your neck.

    Diluc held you in his arms for a long time, not wanting to let go of you anytime soon. It felt like hours before he gently unwrapped his arms around you - only pushing you far enough away so he could see your face. The man tenderly put a gloved hand on your face and another on your hip, looking into your eyes with his that were full of love.

    You remembered what had happened that night all up until entering the church. You didn’t know how you woke up or how long it was from Donna feeding you that apple to now. 

    “ Diluc, how did I wake up? What happened after I came here?” You asked, your voice hoarse.

     “ Well, we found out that you ate a poisoned apple, Barbara and the other sisters tried everything to wake you up. Eventually, Barbara came up with the idea of a true love’s kiss...” he trailed off, feeling slightly embarrassed about it.  “ That’s what worked.”

    You only nodded, trying to hide the smile that wanted to appear on your face. “ Than you, for waking me up.” You two continued to stare at each other, adoration and love in both of your eyes. Without even thinking, Diluc leaned back down and put his lips against yours. You almost instantly melted into the kiss, enjoying the warmth of his lips being on yours brought.

     “ Oh my- are we interrupting something?” One of the sisters said, startled by the scene that was before her. Diluc and yourself quickly pulled away from each other - your cheeks a matching shade of red.

    “ Uh no... we were just leaving. I wanna get Y/N back home safely now that she’s awake. Tell Barbara and Jean that she’s better now and to visit the Dawn Winery if they wanna ask  her questions or visit her,” Diluc said, taking his hands off of your face and waist and grabbing her hand with one of them.

    Together the two fled the church, unknowing that Barbara and Jean were right there watching as the two lovers were rushing off with each other. The two sisters looked at each other and smiled, it’s always the craziest of ideas that worked out in the end. 

                                                   _______________

     Despite eventually going back to work and living your normal life, Diluc was much more protective over you now. He made you live at the winery with him and would escort you everywhere. Especially if it was at night. He promised that he wouldn’t let history repeat itself. He would keep you safe at all costs. 

#diluc imagine #diluc x reader #genshin impact diluc #diluc ragnvindr #diluc headcanons #diluc ragnivindr x reader #diluc fluff #genshin diluc #diluc #Genshin #genshin impact #gensin impact #genshin impact headcanons #genshin impact imagine #genshin imagine #anime imagine #anime imagines #imagine #fairytale au

[cazimagines]

A Freudian Slip - Part 3

Part 1, Part 2

Masterlist

Synopsis: While a fight breaks out Zemo asks you to run away from him, you accept leaving on an eventful journey with him

Word Count: 4.5k

Warnings: Fluff, Angst, Smut

Author’s note: A final 3rd installment for ‘A Freudian Slip’ I hope you all have enjoyed this brief series! Next to come out is a sequel to ‘Perfectly Exasperating’

Bucky carried Zemo back into the house bridal style, his hands gripping tightly around Zemo’s legs and chest, and dropped him onto the sofa in the midst of the room. Zemo was knocked out from when John Walker had the brilliant idea to stop Zemo from smashing all the super-soldier serum by chucking his shield at him. You could see a nasty bruise forming on the top of his head where he was struck.

You gently run your fingers over the side of his face. At this moment he looked so peaceful sleeping, his lips pulled up into a natural slight smile, parts of his hair dangled down across his forehead, his face softened and not tensed like it usually appeared to be. You brush the hair back into its usual place, running your fingers over his feverish forehead.

You turn to Bucky and Sam, whose eyes burn into yours, millions of questions flashing through them, yet they remain unspoken. “I’ll look after him,” you tell them, turning your gaze back to Zemo's peaceful form. It was easier to stare at him than them at the moment.

“You and Zemo have been spending a lot of time together,” Sam states, raising an eyebrow at you.

“Because I’ve been making sure he doesn’t betray us,” You snap back, refusing to look at them

“Sam and I have been doing that as well and you haven’t seen us giving him bedroom eyes,” Bucky argues back, stepping forward, but Sam grabs a hold of his arm to stop him from going further.

“Look y/n, we’re just concerned about you. That guy a criminal, he could easily manipulate you,”

Your eyes flash to him angrily, “You think I would be easy to manipulate,”

“No, that’s not what I meant-” Sam says but Bucky interrupts him

“Yes. I know him, y/n, that is exactly something he would do. You can’t trust him,”

“I’ve told you already, I’m just making sure he doesn’t betray us. There’s nothing else. I’d appreciate it if you believed me,”

They sigh in defeat, glancing at each other, then back to you. “Look, I will not argue with you. Go get him the things he requires. Bucky and I need to check to see if we can find Karli. I might get a chance to talk to her again” Sam says and he and Bucky turn their backs, sending one last concerning look at you over their shoulders then disappearing.

You sigh looking back to Zemo who still slept peacefully unaware. A smile tugged on your mouth, but it twisted to a frown. You all knew damn well you had been lying. Whether you wanted to admit it, you liked Zemo. Every time you saw him, the urge to kiss his lips pulled you in. You could still feel his embrace, his kisses on your neck, shoulders, collar. The sensation of him inside you, touching you. You craved it more and more like he was your addiction.

You don’t know how you hadn’t gotten to this point of being so obsessed with him, where it had kicked in. You always found him attractive, from when you first laid your eyes on him as he broke out of the prison, you felt that attraction pull to him. You never expected it would be anything more though till that one embarrassing moment when you called him daddy in the undercover mission. You could still feel your cheeks burn up in embarrassment as you remembered that night, but you could also feel your body warm up as you thought about what happened in the alleyway. How he kissed you so passionately. So earnestly.

You had tried to deny your feelings, pretend it wasn’t there, and that kiss that never happened, but Zemo would not let you avoid him. Your eyes flickered to the bathroom and your breath hitches as you remember the intimacy you two spent together there. It was there you felt you truly saw Zemo for the person he was. A man who was lonely and broken from his past. A man who cared for you no matter what Sam or Bucky says.

You felt so scared when you saw the shield hit Zemo. Panic gripped your heart as you rushed over to him. John peered down at you like you were dirt as you cradled Zemo’s head in your lap. Sam and Bucky had run up to you and were surprised you were on your knees holding his head in your hands.

As you were observing him, Zemo's eyes cracked open, and he moaned in discomfort, bringing his hand to rub his eyes. Leaping up, you shouted at him to stay still as you fetched a flannel, running it under cold water, and brought it back to him.

He smiled as you handed him the flannel, the sides of his lips curling up like a cat. “Thank you” he mumbles.

“I’ll get you a drink,”

“You’re being very kind to me y/n,”

“Don’t get used to it,”

He snickered at your sudden switch to hostility, “Will we constantly be bouncing between kindness and hatred?”

You exhale, sitting down beside him, handing a glass of whiskey to him. “I don’t hate you, Zemo, though I really should. There’s something about you I just love and I can’t let go.”

You hesitate, both of you pondering over your sudden confession. Zemo raises the flannels of his eyes and looks over at you. His eyes, which are full of wonder, scan yours. You wanted to look away, embarrassed, but you couldn’t. You didn’t want to keep running away from how you felt.

“You terrified me earlier. I thought John Walker had killed you.”

His eyes switched to concern as his eyebrows furrowed, “I’m sorry I frightened you y/n. I- I never thought I would ever get over my wife and... I still love her but you enthrall me, you drive me wild because I want to know everything about you, feel all of you, touch all of you. It’s been so long since I felt this way and it frightens me.”

You reach out your hand to grasp his and he runs his thumb over your knuckles,

“Zemo I-”

The door opens and both yours and Zemo’s head snaps towards it as Sam and Bucky walkthrough. As quick as lightning, you let go of Zemo’s hand and strode away to the opposite side of the room. Zemo’s eyes sadly glance at you, then to his hand, and he lets out a sigh. He takes a sip of his drink, then pulls the flannel back over, his eyes settling down on the sofa.

Bucky rolls his views and wanders off while Sam grabs a seat at the table to work on his laptop. The silence was suffocating. At least for you. Sam seemed to try hard to concentrate on the laptop, but Zemo relaxed, sipping his drink and you pulled out your phone, playing a silly game to waste away the time.

“Were you ever offered it?” Zemo finally asks Sam. Sam’s gaze leaves the laptop looking at you, then over to Zemo.

“What?”

“The serum,”

“No,”

You glance between them, not knowing if you should leave or not. Sam didn’t seem to want to be engaged in a conversation, but Zemo wasn’t taking the hint.

“If you had been, hypothetically, that is, would you have taken it?”

Without a second hesitation, Sam replies, a harsh tone to his voice, “No”

“No hesitation. That’s impressive,” Zemo says, nodding in approval.

He raises his hand, taking off the flannel with a slight grunt, “Sam,” he says as he holds the flannel in his hand, his gaze unwavering from it.

“You can’t hold out hope for Karli. No matter what you saw in her. She’s gone. And we cannot allow her and her acolytes become yet another faction of gods among real people. Super soldiers cannot be allowed to exist.”

You look down to the ground, frowning at Zemo’s words, but Sam answers without hesitation, “Isn’t that how god's talk?"

Zemo’s eyes continue to glare down at the flannel, for once not speaking up.

“And if that’s how you feel, what about Bucky?”

“Blood isn’t always the solution” Sam finishes as you hear a door click in the background. As Bucky walks in, you get up and walk over to Zemo again, who sits up to let you sit beside him. He gently places his hand on your knee, your eyes flickering to each other, hiding the action enough so the others don’t see. Though you both say nothing because of the present company, it’s as if you could read each other's thoughts. You were both conflicted on what path to follow and because of that, you found solace in each other.

“Something’s not right about Walker,” Bucky mutters, shrugging off his jacket.

“Like we hadn’t known that from the start,” you mumble

“Well, I know a crazy when I see one. Because I am crazy,”

“Can’t argue with that,” Sam agrees

The two argue about the shield once again and you were preparing to stop them when the doors once again burst open and John Walker and his partner storm in. All your heads turn towards the disruption and you groan in frustration at seeing him.

“All right. That’s it. Let’s go. I’m ordering you to hand him over,”

Both Sam walks out in front of John to stop him from getting nearer Zemo. You stood up to go stand by him as well, but Zemo grasps your hand as he gets up, shaking his head. Your eyebrows turn down confused, but he doesn’t offer you an explanation.

With his other hand, he hands the bottle of whiskey over to you, then picks up his glass, dragging you over to the kitchen counter. You weren’t paying attention to what Sam and John were saying till a spear flew past them, imbedding in one pillar.

Your eyes widened as you saw Dora Milaje storm in.

One of them speaks in Wakandan to Bucky, obviously pissed. “Release him to us now” she orders in English. Zemo’s eyes glance anxiously from yours to them, his mind swarming with thoughts of how to get out.

“Hi, John Walker. Captain America.” John says walking over to them. They refuse to say anything to him, so he looks awkwardly away.

“Well, let’s uh put down the pointy sticks and we can talk this through, huh?” he says, patronising them. You wanted to facepalm because of his stupidity.

“Hey, John. Take this easy. You might want to fight Bucky before you tangle with the Dora Milaje,” Sam warns

John Walker however doesn’t listen. He proceeds to antagonise them till he finally places a hand on her shoulder and all hell breaks loose.

Both you and Zemo stand at the side watching John Walker fight them. Zemo sips his whiskey and offers you a sip. You smile slightly at his nonchalant attitude about the fight, letting him raise the glass to your lips as you drink.

Both Sam and Bucky eventually join in the fight as well, and once again you move to join them, but Zemo’s grip on your hand tightens. “Not now little one” he mutters

He peers around, watching the fight as you stare questionably at him, “Zemo what the hell is up with you today. Did that hit to the head get rid of your common sense” you whisper angrily trying to tug your hand out of his. Zemo rolls his eyes at you, clasping your hand.

“We need to go” he whispers urgently and tries to tug you towards the bathroom.

“What? Zemo, Zemo wait. What do you mean we?” You ask, grounding your feet into the floor.

He looks around at the fighting, his skin becoming whiter as he gets more worried. “We don’t have a lot of time y/n, please. I need you to come with me,”

You didn’t know where he wanted to go, or how he was planning on leaving, but you could see fear prickling in his eyes as he looked at you.

“What about Sam and Bucky?”

“They will be okay. Please y/n, I want to spend this time with you. I don’t want to do this alone,”

You stare into his eyes once more, then nod, finally making your choice.

You let him lead you back into the bathroom and close the door behind him. He quickly pushes the bath aside, revealing a passageway into the sewer.

“Ugh,” you say to yourself as you look down the hole. “Ladies first,” Zemo says, placing his hand on your back, the side of his lip curling up into a smile as he guides you over to the hole.

You shoot him a glare before grasping onto the ladder and clambering down as fast as you could, trying your best not to slip.

After a minute you reached the bottom of the ladder and Zemo arrived quickly after. It was so dark down there, but thankfully Zemo had a flashlight in his coat. Once again grabbing a hold of your hand, he guides you down a pathway.

“So this was the best escape plan you had?” you ask, your nose wrinkling at the unpleasant smell

“I’m sorry y/n, did you have a better plan?” he replies sarcastically

“Well, I didn’t know I was running away with you until a minute before,”

Zemo pauses, beaming the light on your face, making you cringe. He lowers it slightly. So it wasn’t in your eyes but still illuminated your face.

“I owe you a thank you for coming with me. I know it wasn’t a simple decision to leave your friends for a person you meet just a few days ago,”

“When you put it like that, you make me feel even crazier for making this decision,” you grumble

“But it’s okay Zemo, Sam and Bucky will be fine without me, and I wanted to be with you,”

Zemo raises his hand to cup the side of your face, his thumb running along your cheekbone. Quickly he pulls you to him, capturing your lips in a passionate kiss. His spare hand holding the flashlight wraps around your waist as he holds you there, moving his lips on yours, which you reciprocate.

As suddenly as it had started, it ended. He pulled away slightly, his lips still brushing against yours. “Thank you, little one”

His nickname for you sends shivers along your spine and you let out a husky breath. He smirks at you, turning around, and continues to walk down the pathway.

Eventually, you reach another ladder that you can climb up. You blink a lot as you emerge into the sunlight, finding yourself on a random road.

“What now?” you ask

Zemo walks over to a car, jumping into the driver's seat, and pats the passenger seat next to him. As you get in beside him he easily hot wires the car and gets the engine started.

“So have lots of experience stealing cars?” you ask Zemo and he chuckles, “When you become a criminal you pick up a lot of new skills,”

“I suppose aiding with the escape of a criminal now makes me one as well. You bring about a lot of surprises,”

“I’ve been told I am quite surprising,” he glances at you, smirking as he drives, “And seductive,”

You slap the side of his arm lightly, “Eyes on the road, mister”

“Mister? I think I prefer what you called me before. Hm, what was that again?”

You groan as Zemo brings up that embarrassing night for you, “You’ll never let that go, will you?”

“You calling me daddy? Of course not. I quite like it,”

“Where are we even going?” you ask trying to direct the conversation somewhere else

Zemo turns from looking at you to the road, the smile on his face slowly fading.

“Sokovia,”

Your breath hitches as he says the name of his country, bringing back the reminders of his previous family.

“I want to see the memorial,”

You nod quietly, not sure what you could say.

For the next ten minutes, you two sit in uncomfortable silence. All previous moments where you were having fun had faded. Eventually, Zemo sighed in frustration and made a sharp turn in the car, pulling into a secluded spot on an empty road.

He turns off the car and turns to face you. “It seems to me we need to talk,”

You look to him then away, “I don’t think so”

“Y/n” he growls

“I said we don’t need to talk!” you shout, glaring at him, but you snap your lips shut as you realised how much anger had suddenly built up in you.

Recognition flashes in Zemo’s eyes as he stares at you, “This is about my family, isn’t it?”

You look away, your cheeks burning as you knew how ridiculous you were being.

Zemo nods his head, looking at the road ahead as he thought over what to say.

“You are part of the reason I want to go to the memorial,” he finally admits

It was your turn to look at him, puzzled. He pushes his lips together as he prepares for what he wants to say next.

“I love my family. Every day, I miss them. But I also really like you y/n. You are someone I want to spend all my time and money on just to make you happy. Every time I look at you, I want to take you, no matter where we are. And I feel I owe it to my family to visit the memorial to pay respect and to accept that it is okay for me to move on,”

It felt like with his words he had lifted an enormous weight off of your shoulders. Tears sprung to your eyes and Zemo looked panicked noticing them but you grinned, placing your hand on his shoulder.

“Thank you, Zemo,”

His fingers run along your arms and up to your face, tracing your jawline. His eyes flicker from your eyes to your lips and slowly move forward towards you. Once again he captures your lips with his but this time it was gentle like he was trying to savior you. You grasp the fur parts of his coat and try to pull him closer, you can feel through your kiss him smirking.

“Would you prefer to take this to the back seat?” he rasps and you nod your head quickly. You pull away from the kiss, shifting in your seat so you can clamber onto the long seat at the back of the car. Zemo holds onto your waist as he follows you through the back. He sits down on the seat and pulls you onto him so you were straddling his waist. His hands grip tighter to your hips as you go back to making out with him while you ground on his lap, feeling wetness stain your pants.

You smirked into the kiss as you felt Zemo’s trousers stiffen and a bulge appear as you grinded on him.

“Let go of me Zemo,” you sigh as you pull away from the kiss, hesitantly Zemo lets go of your waist curious to see what you were planning. It was hard positioning yourself with the limited space you two had in the car, but you sat on your knees, pushing his legs apart as you settled between them. You reach up and tug down the zip on his trousers, exposing his boxers. Zemo sits back and watches you as you tug them down, exposing his member.

Already some pre-cum had leaked from it, which you gladly licked up, running your tongue along its side. You traced the vein that stuck out, feeling it pulse against your tongue. Teasing him, you flick your tongue over the tip, hovering your lips just around it but not going further.

Zemo finally moves, impatiently he grasps your hair in his hand and pushes you down onto his member, making you take all of him. He lets out a groan, his eyes fluttering shut as he rolls his head back as he felt the heat of your tongue on his member. You suck your cheeks in to give him more pleasure as he pumps your head up and down so that his member could go in as far as it could.

You grasp his tights to position yourself better. You could feel aching between your legs as you longed for more, but at the moment all you wanted to do was please him. Zemo pushed your head faster, grunting, feeling pleasure swarm over him. He then suddenly pulled you off his member, grabbing your arms he lifted you, getting off the seat and pushing you on so you were lying down on your back.

“Forgive me little one” he purrs as his hands roughly grasp at your trousers and quickly pushes them down, exposing your pants. “I need to feel inside you” He runs his finger up them chuckling feeling the wetness soaking through.

“Do you have a condom?” he asks, looking in your eyes, “We don’t need one” you gasp, the urge to feel him swarming you.

“As you wish,” he says, immediately pushing your pants aside and slipping into you.

You moan feeling him stretch you out but as soon as he was in you he drew back almost completely out of you but snapped his hips back into you. He thrusts with all the strength he has, pushing your body up and down on the seat.

You wrap your hands around his back, your nails digging into his back as your body moves up and down with him. His head settles on your shoulder, where he leaves hickies. Every time he pulls back from kissing and biting you he would whisper things in Sokovian that you couldn’t understand but you were sure were endearing.

His fingers snaked down to find your clit and rubbed it, sending shock waves of pleasure to your brain. You let out a loud moan as you felt the knot in your stomach tightening. As if knowing you were close, Zemo's hips thrust deeper into you, hitting the right spot to make you let loose, your walls clamping down on him as you came. He groans into your neck, feeling your walls flutter around him. His thrusts grew more erratic till you could feel him twitch in you and his seed spill into you.

He pants heavily, finally looking you in the eyes. “I love you little one,” he whispers

You smile, placing a kiss on the side of his face, “I love you too... daddy”

He chuckles and finally gets off you.

The car drive after that was comfortable. Zemo liked to drive with one hand on the wheel while the one hand resting on your thigh, as if reminding you, you belonged to him and only him. Hours later, you finally arrived at the memorial.

Holding your hand, Zemo walks up to the sculpture. He speaks to himself in Sokovian first, getting whatever he needs to say off his chest. After that he turns to you, his eyes capturing yours as they were glazed with tears, “The loss of my country, of my family, broke me y/n, but in some twisted way I am not as upset as I was about it before because it led me to you. I don’t blame you for any of it, I know you had nothing to do with the Sokovian attack just like Sam and James. I’m so glad I could spend these last moments with you.”

You look at him confused, “These last moments?”

You suddenly hear footsteps approaching and you quickly spin around, seeing Bucky appearing behind you. Your head snaps back to Zemo. “Zemo what the hell is going on!?”

He smiles sadly at the floor, then back at you, grabbing your hands. “I’m afraid I must ask something hard of you y/n. Please, can you leave”

The breath left your lungs; it felt as if your entire chest dropped hearing his words.

“... What,”

“I don’t want you to witness what must happen next,”

Your gaze flickers from Bucky who was standing back letting you two have your moment to Zemo who looked desperately at you.

“I’m not leaving you, Zemo,” you state

“Y/n…”

“NO!” you shout

“Y/n I-” Bucky says walking forward, but one death glare from you quickly shuts him up.

“How could you ever ask something of me like that, especially after... after everything that has happened,”

“I should have told you y/n, I’m sorry, but I needed to spend these last moments with you because you are so special to me, I didn’t want to ruin the moment by telling you what was to come,” tears gush from your eyes as you shake your head at him, He steps closer to you, holding your head in his hands, using his thumbs to wipe away your tears.

“And because I love you, I don’t want you to see this. You know there is no other way out of this. It has to happen, and it’s okay, I’m ready. Just like I could with my wife, I know you’ll be able to move on and find someone who will give you everything I can’t and never will because you deserve so much better than me,”

“I love you,” you whisper, the hot tears spilling down your cheeks. Your eyes examine every detail of his face, trying to ingrain everything in your mind.

“I love you little one,”

He pulls you into one last kiss, gentle, but the romantic moment drowned in sadness.

You pull away. Turn around. You don’t look at him. You can’t because you know if you do you won’t be able to leave. You glare at Bucky though you know as well as Zemo it isn’t his fault. You walk a slight distance, just enough so that they are out of sight, and then you collapse on the floor.

Your hands into the ground, pulling at the dirt as you let all your pain out, trying to hold in your sobs. How is it you had fallen for that man so quickly? You loved him; you had risked giving him your heart, and he was pulled so quickly from you. You felt betrayed; he didn’t tell you what he was planning, but you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him for it either.

You don’t know how long you stayed there, but you opened your eyes when you felt a shadow fall over you. Looking up, you saw one member of the Dora Milaje looking down at you.

Your eyes widen in surprise, and then you gasp, connecting the dots. “Zemo'' you whisper, jumping off the ground and running back to where you last saw him. Sure enough, as you arrived you saw him being escorted to the Dora Milaje aircraft.

Hearing your footsteps, Zemo glances over at you. Sadness flickers in his eyes as he stops walking to look at you, but they grasp his shoulder, forcing him to look forward and to keep moving. You watch as they escort him away, till you couldn’t see him anymore.

Bucky walks over to you, looking at the floor guiltily.

“I’ll see him again,” you tell Bucky

“y/n I don’t think-”

“I’ll see him again, Bucky. You can count on that”

Taglist: @sinister-sleep @cable-kenobi @faustlyaccused @chipster-21 @icarusinstatic @yallgotkik @montypythonsholysnail @bunniwritesx @checkurwindow @huntheimpossible @jayxkelsi @avgravy @prestigious-tea @wonderwoman292 @there-goes-thefighter @multiyfandomgirl40 @freyjasamael @ineffablebean @aloyssia @hannahbal-the-fannibal

(I can't tag some of you, I'll keep trying but maybe check your invisibility)

#zemo #helmut zemo #baron zemo #zemo x you #zemo fluff #zemo fanfic #zemo smut #zemo imagine #zemo x y/n #i love zemo #zemo x reader #tfatws #marvel #daniel brühl #mcu

[cannibal-witchh]

Reader(Fem) x Alcina Dimitrescu

(PART 2)

Written by cannibal_witchh

Part 1

:https://cannibal-witchh.tumblr.com/post/641589115086929920/readerfem-x-alcina-dimitrescu-part-1-written

⛓Trigger Warnings⛓

Story contains: Gore, sexual elements, vulgar language, violence, elements of sub/dom behavior, and captivity.

Notes: This is the 2nd part of the story and it will progressively get more sexual, and the elements between the reader and Alcina will become more dom/sub. It is a little bit of a slow burner so bare with me. It will get juicy soon! I want to add, I do not support in any fashion abuse, and or non consensual actions. ⚠️ I have clearly placed trigger warnings to indicate there may be elements that are not for every reader. I heavily gravitate with dominance and submission/gore so thats where the relationship in the story will go ⚠️ Again, limited information so nothing in the story really is canon.

The reader is referred to as:

Y/N- your name

Y/L/N- your last name

She/her- in italics and bold

🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇🦇

Her blood boiled as she felt the weight of humiliation and rage filter through her. She was in poor shape, bloodied up, bruised, and very little hope could be found within her. She stared at Alcina with a hateful expression, but the vampress had full awareness beneath that thin surface of loathing was absolute fear. "Don't be foolish. I will not say it again.", she continued a smirk as she rested her elbows up on the edge of the bath. Even in absolute indecency she was wicked and intense. Her body at full exposure, water glistening off her porcelain skin, and gentle beads of water trailing down her breasts. The moon was illuminating off her soft tall figure, as she tipped her head back and relaxed it on the edge. "I think I've been more than patient with you."

Y/N, had so many emotions cycling through her, there was disgust, hatred, and anxiety. But she had concluded that there was no point in stalling. Alcina would grow tired and eventually kill her if she wasted anymore time. She began to strip, peeling an article of clothing at a time, trying desperately to cling on to every second. Her hands trembling as she slid her panties down her ankles before the wicked vampire.

She submerged her body in the warm water, blood began to scatter out from her knee, and she watched fragments of the water become crimson. Fuck. "Relax, I'm not a shark. I can smell your wonderful nectar but I have no need to feed at this exact instance just because you're coloring my bath water red.", she teased pulling her head up. Loose black waves stuck to her wet skin, spreading out like a small web on her smooth pale skin. Her intense bright eyes focused on Y/N, her eyes looked so preditorial, and so hungry. Those eyes burned deep in Y/N's soul, it was haunting.

After about forty minutes of soaking and cleansing, Alcina decided to privilege Y/N by showing her the cellar room. She held a lit candlabrum guiding them deep inside. It smelled foul, there were variations of fresh corpses everywhere, limbs lost in other areas of the large hallway, and it was incredibly dark. The walls and floor were built with thick cobblestone, and there were numerous cellars with rusted bars. " Now, I believe I have treated you kindly with allowing you to stay in an actual guest room.", she said as she continued to lead Y/N deeper into the cellars. Abruptly, an incredibly dry groan echoed through the cellar, it sounded as if it was in absolute suffering and pain. Y/N darted her head in the direction she believed it came from but it was too difficult to really distinguish actually where it sounded. " Relax, I won't allow them to touch you.", she assured as she stopped and turned to face her. "Those are family.", she stretched a pearly grin, her fangs teasing under her satin red lips. Alcina instructed with just her hands for Y/N to come closer to her, and she obeyed the demand. "You look much better being cleaned up, pet.", that name alone flooded a pool of humiliation in her, being stabbed, bitten, and beaten countless times to this nonsense- it just delivered a wave of embarassment to her. Alcina let out a soft giggle, and for moments there wasn't words being exchanged.

Thud! With swift impact, there was a heavy hit that landed to Y/N's head, and she flew several feet back away from Alcina. She tried to gather herself but her vision grew blurry, and her knee still in poor condition to make quick movements. Dwindling in and out of clear vision, the sounds of agonizing groaning reverberated through the corridor infront of her. She felt shivers, hair raise, and another dose of adrenaline greet her. What could this be? Within moments, a strong smell of decay flooded through the damp cobblestone hallways, and echos of pain continuing to sound. A group of corpse like creatures swayed in, their bodies detierating, bones exposed, long sharp aged nails, and hollow dark eyes. Her family. Absolute horror welcomed Y/N, Alcina had lied, she wasn't going to protect her. The creatures began to hobble towards her, surrounding her, their stench choking her, and their groans ringing in her ear. She was fucked, no available escape was present for her to attempt. She closed her eyes and she felt the stroke of long thin nails brush against her face and arms. Felt the cold breath of their hissing near her ears, as she tried to control her panic. This was it. "Enough!", Alcina screeched, and immediately the creatures shrieked and fled away in the tunnels. She relaxed her hands on her hips and walked over to Y/N with a pleased expression. " This is what will become of you but worse if you do not submit to me. Do we have ourselves clear?", Alcina watched as Y/N nodded trying to control her panicked breaths, and maintain her shivering. "Good."

Without effort, Alcina had carried Y/N in her arms all the day back to her captive room. When they arrived, she locked the door, and rested Y/N on the sheets. Y/N felt some release of tension the moment she establish this was her room. She spread her arms out, tracing the creases of silk that collected under her. The presence of the fabric brought her slight comfort. "Honestly, you truely are pathetic.", she sighed as she sat the candlabrum on the wooden nightstand beside the bed. Y/N felt beside her sink, Alcina had sat beside her and began to run her fingers through her hair. Despite the cruel treatment, this minor kindness felt relieving to Y/N. She let out a small sound of relief as Alcina continued to lace her fingers through her hair. "I feel despite some tension, you have gathered an understanding of your place as my feeding pet. I appreciate that submission. I have mutually contributed. I awaited feeding until you were cleansed and in the comforts of your room.", a sharp spike danced in Y/N's stomach, she felt acidity well up, and her knee twitch with discomfort. It was time.

This time, Y/N did have opposition towards the situation this time. She fully gave in to the unfortunate circumstances. Her pants were removed, revealing a blackened knee with blood stains feathering out from the site. "I'm quite surprised how quickly you've adapted to your position to me. I have to admit, I am pleased with you.", Alcina leaned to her side, hovering over Y/N's wounded knee, her large breasts nearly spilling out from her nightgown. The closer she leaned towards her knee, the more her alluring breasts pressed gently against Y/N. "Despite my daughters, I have control over my hunger. I will treat you well, and I will know how to savor you slowly.", she looked down at her knee and let out a sound of disappointment. "So much for being patient. Its scabbed. I suppose I will make a new feeding site."

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"My f-femoral atery?", Y/N muttered as she felt her cheeks grow hot. A major artery, not even her daughters had fed on. The violent feeding they did more than likely would've killed her if they attempted to. " Yes, now please relax. I have fed in this location before and no one has ever died. I have lived a long life and acquired quite the knowledge on self control.", she began to move close to her upper thigh, her nose brushing lightly against her skin, and her mouth leaving light streaks stained from her rouge. The sound of skin break was heard through the cold air, Y/N let out a pained moan and held her breath. The pain was unpleasant, it was like having a canine bite but with small thin teeth. She tried focusing on the candle wicks, watching them sway and dance softly in the distance. The warm occasional crackle it did from time to time. It was the closest thing to resemble peacefulness during this taxing time. Alcina began to feed, siphoning Y/N's blood, she made sounds of utter bliss as the sweet flavor danced along her desperate tongue. Her body stiffening in surprise as pure satisfaction greeted her mouth. Her nipples growing erect through her night gown, brushing against Y/N's leg. Y/N felt light headed, feeling blood leaving her as she grew quickly cold. Strangely, she had no presence of panic, perhaps, the loss of blood delivered her brief emotional insensitivity. Alcina stayed down there for quite sometime, muttering muffled sounds of bliss, occasionally latching off revealing a bloodied chin, teeth, and lips. She met Y/N's eyes and immediately flashed a wide smile, it was almost sickening but in a way bewitching. Maybe the lack of blood was making Y/N confused. " W-why am I so relaxed?", she muttered feeling a heavy weight of tranquility possess her. " Shh...its the lack of blood. Soon I will stop.", Alcina whispered as Y/N felt her tongue lick her inner thigh. Her long tongue tracing and prodding the bite marks. Desperstely trying to drain whatever was left of the site.

" I believe, I am full. Thank you for the meal.", she wiped her crimson stained lips and chin with the back of her hands ,now tarnishing it with red. " I believe, I owe you a thank you, pet. You have been surprisingly obedient the whole time, and quiet too.", Alcina slowly adjusted herself until she was on all fours above Y/N. Her large smooth breasts draping down reaveling down her well tailored gown. She began to crawl slowly towards Y/N's face, her chest lighting brushing against Y/N's body. It was incredibly soft yet cold. " I am going to need you to open your mouth, won't you, pet?", without hesitation, Y/N dropped her mouth open for her. Alcina licked her lips and pressed her right fang into her plump bottom lip. Blood began to trickle out and run down her chin and onto her chest. Her hand traveled slowly up to Y/N's neck, gentle gripping it, and holding it against the mattress. Her opposite hand, explored under her shirt, and rested on her heart. Y/N, felt the a wave of heat flush away the cold that was residing in her. What was she about to do? "Can't let my obedient food die on me, yet.", Alcina leaned herself forward, pressing her lips against Y/N's. Her tongue inviting itself into her mouth, brushing metallic crimson inside. The flavor was terrible but Y/N did not seem to object. Alcina continued to kiss her, muffled sounds escaping between their lips as a warm blanketed feeling continued to lay over Y/N. Blood had managed to escape their lips, trickling down Y/N's chin, it was incredibly cold as it traveled down. Alcina ceased the kissing, her face revealed itself to be flush and pink. Strange for a creature of the undead. She moved her long delicate fingers along Y/N's blood covered lips and chin. Collecting whatever escaped under her finger tips. "Don't waste it.", she whispered softly nudging her fingers against Y/N's lips, as they slipped their way inside her mouth. More of that bitter flavor met Y/N's tongue, and she felt her body grow warmer and warmer. Alcina took her fingers out after a few moments, examining there was no trace of remaining blood present. She made a sound of approval that trailed with a small smile. An overwhelming amount of insatiable hunger found Y/N, she felt her body perk with energy, her senses incredibly alert, and her heart accelerate as if it was injected with caffeine. She brought a hand to Alcina's cheek and drew her to her own. Lips reuniting again, her tongue pressing its way into Alcina's mouth, and Y/N biting her lower plump lip. She was hungry, the introduction to Alcina's blood was intoxicating, addictive, and restoring. It brought her energy and she needed more. A small line of red flowed from Alcina's lower lip, and Y/N quickly licked it from her face. Her tongue returning back to Alcina's mouth the moment she collected all of her crimson. Alcina muffled a small moan, as her hand tightened around Y/N's neck, the opposite hand no long resting on her Y/N's heart but traveling down her stomach. Her incredibly sharp nails dragging into her sternum down to above her navel. She felt blood seep from those insicions, and she let out a pained moan. She buried her lips against Alcina's for a few more passionate moments until she broke it. Her lips pressing against Y/N's neck and her tongue dragging down her neck to the freshly bloodied cuts on her sternum and navel. She kissed and licked the bloodied wounds hungrily. Little delicate moans left her mouth as she glanced up at Y/N with her appreciative smile. Still continuing to clean the newly made cuts with her tongue. "Dont act as if this is an invitation of making love, foolish one. Vampires have restorative blood that gives humans the ability to briefly recover, replenish energy, alertness, and on some occasions enhance their libidio.", she rolled her eyes, " In this case, you acquired all of it. What a headache. I just wanted to make sure you didn't die of blood loss.", She sighed. " I suppose I will find more uses for you, pet. But don't think it will entirely feel good."

To be continued...

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#resident evil #alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #re village #re8 #resident evil village #alcina #alcina x female reader #alcina x reader #alcina fanfic #reaident evil village fanfic #resident evil 8 fanfic #resident evil fanfic #fanfic

[personasintro]

blue side | jhs drabble

⏤𝘴𝘺𝘯𝘰𝘱𝘴𝘪𝘴; you see your ex at your friend's wedding, awakening some feelings at the simple sight of him

⏤𝘱𝘢𝘪𝘳𝘪𝘯𝘨; hoseok x reader

⏤𝘨𝘦𝘯𝘳𝘦: fluff, little bit of angst, exes to lovers au

⏤𝘸𝘰𝘳𝘥 𝘤𝘰𝘶𝘯𝘵: 4.3k

⏤𝘸𝘢𝘳𝘯𝘪𝘯𝘨𝘴: strong language, mentions of sex

𝘢/𝘯: requested, I came to the conclusion that I can't write short drabbles they always get longer than I want them to be

It’s unfair how effortlessly beautiful and charismatic he looks.

Two years is a long time since you’ve personally seen him, even though you got a brief glimpse into his life through stalking his social media. In your defense, it’s only occasional whenever you feel weak and curious about his life. Fair to say, it’s not something you’re proud of.

Fortunately, your ex-boyfriend keeps his Instagram account public, which makes it easier for you to look through his profile every now and then. He keeps most of his life private, even though his account is public, but he still shares a fair amount of pictures which describes his personality. Most of them are pictures of food, him in the distance where you can barely make out his face and a few snaps of the sky. Personally, the picture of his hand holding a cup of coffee with his name written on it, is your favorite. The silver watch and veins disappearing underneath, what seems like an elegant shirt, has something to do with it.

From what you remember, he doesn’t post often, sometimes goes even three months without posting anything. It sounds creepy, but you’re sure most exes do shit like this.

And you haven’t stalked his Instagram, or any social media, ever since you found out he’s going to your friend’s wedding. It’s understandable. It’s your mutual friend who invited you both, little did you know Hoseok would bring his ass from Japan back to South Korea. You’re just being bitter, of course he’d come to Namjoon’s wedding. But considering Japan and the work offer that broke your relationship was so important to him, the thought of him actually coming here never crossed your mind.

It kind of hurts that he came to Namjoon’s wedding, left his precious Japan, but couldn’t do the same thing for your relationship. No matter how many times you’ve told yourself not to think about it, you just couldn’t but feel anger boiling inside of you. Or maybe it’s the sight of him, noticing how freaking good he looks in suits. His hair seems to be darker than the light brown he was sporting when he broke your heart. He’s glowing, his eyes crinkling exactly the way you remember, showing a full set of teeth as he quickly covers his mouth before his loud voice erupts in the ballroom. His face seems to be chubbier, not in a bad way though. He looks healthy, another thing that irritates you, even though your brain screams at you.

It’s been two years.

Of course he moved on and lives his life.

What have you expected? Him looking miserable?

Yet, you don’t feel any hatred towards him. Yes, he’s someone who’s painful to watch, especially when it brings all the months of trying to put yourself together right back. However, you haven’t been living badly. It’s not like your whole world revolved around him, even though he was the only man you truly ever loved. Deep down, you know he’s not a bad person. It’s just the pain of knowing he chose a carrier life instead of you. That’s what hurts to this day.

And when somehow, your group of friends pushes you to the circle of his, there’s no escape other than to be met with him face to face. During the actual ceremony, you sat far away to even notice him, even though you tried extremely hard to stare at the bride and groom. But now, when your eyes glance at his own, you find him already staring at you. A very cautious greeting leaves his mouth first, as the true gentlemen he always presented himself as, and a very dry greeting comes out of you before you can even try to fake a certain kind of politeness.

Before the atmosphere could become any more awkward, one of your friends starts to chat, gaining everyone else’s attention. They all catch up, as you silently pray for them not to ask you a question about your life. The last thing you want to do is to share it with Hoseok. It’s not like you’re ashamed of your life, or care too much about what he thinks and if he knows about it, but it feels uncomfortable.

Silently sipping on the pink champagne is a better idea, while you politely listen to anyone that’s talking, giggling when it’s needed but your mind drifts elsewhere. With each sound Hoseok’s mouth makes, is like a wave of nostalgia and nausea hitting you at the same time. He affects you and your heart, despite of those two years of not having him in your life, like it never happened.

“How’s work, Hoseok-ah? I’ve heard you got promoted. Congrats man!” Taehyung, one of Hoseok’s friends, speaks up sipping from his own champagne as he gently slaps his shoulder in a praise.

Hoseok’s lips stretch into a wide smile, looking down into his almost full glass, something you recognize as a hidden shyness. He has always felt shy as soon as someone complimented him for his hard work. Despite of his reaction, he has felt a huge appreciation to whoever gave him a few words of praise or encouragement. He’s just too hard on himself, well, he used to be. It’s not like you know him. A lot can change in two years. Even peoole can.

“Thanks,” he scrunches his nose, before he grins at Taehyung. “I got promoted just last week.”

He gets a round of happy gasps, another set of praise words which you just ignore by gulping all of your champagne. Maybe you should be less obvious, but you don’t really care. You can’t look at him, not when the topic of discussion reminds you of everything the two of you experienced together. You’re not a bitch. You don’t wish him to be sad and fail all of his dreams and achievements he has set for himself. But you’re also a living person, a human who’s not perfect with real emotions, and you do feel a sour emotion in your chest when you hear them talking.

For all you know, he might be over the moon that he got rid of you. In a way, you were just an obstacle that stood right between his dreams. You just thought three years of dating would’ve been more valuable to him. Maybe that’s what hurts the most.

“Wow,” you speak up, not even regretting it as you feel all the eyes on you, including his. “Congrats, Japan must be treating you right.”

It’s the damn champagne, the third glass you had and should’ve declined when that goddamn waiter offered it, that’s making you so blunt and outspoken. By the way Hoseok eyes you, he probably knows that by now. He’s watching you, and this time you don’t budge your eyes from his, stubbornly staring right back at him.

“What city was it?” The city you left me for. “Noho?” you ask with a fake interest, tilting your head to express it even more.

If not all of them, most of your and his friends, aren’t stupid and caught onto your tone and jabbing at your ex-boyfriend. The fact it’s in front of them all causes Hoseok’s smile to freeze as he clenches his jaw, still staring at you.

“Naha,” he drawls out, “It’s Naha.” he corrects you, causing you to roll your eyes.

“Same thing,” you mutter, waving him off in disinterest but you still catch onto the way Taehyung’s eyes widen.

You notice him whispering something to the man next to him, before all of them just excuse themselves and walk away from the two of you. Your own friends betrayed you like that, not even glancing at you as you stare in disbelief at their backs.

“Why would they leave?” you mutter, trying to hide your shock and panic that rises inside of you.

What you don’t expect is, to Hoseok actually hear you and have the actual interest to answer.

“I think we all know why.”

Your head snaps his direction, eyebrows furrowed as he stares with the same intensity back. It brings you back to all your little arguments during the period when the two of you were dating — both of you are stubborn. The arguments were never too drastic or serious, you and Hoseok were just too stubborn to apologize or talk about it first.

Hoseok was acting like nothing happened, but he’d always snap back if you managed to get out a sarcastic remark. It would go back and forth, until he’d come to you just to cuddle you and whisper a soft apology in your ears. You did the same thing, making sure he knows you hate when the two of you fight about pointless stuff. Your relationship was far more important than Hoseok forgetting to buy groceries or not picking up his dirty clothes off the floor.

He’d kiss you all over your face, covering every inch of your skin with his soft lips to prove his apology, until he’d make love to you, whispering sweet nothings into your ear for the whole time. You knew how serious and sorry he is about the whole situation, especially when he buckled his length into you with gentle and swift movements, making sure you feel every inch of him as he slowly rubs your walls. Even thinking about it makes your cheeks flush, it’s like you can’t still feel his pillow like lips on your own, yet it seems distant and foreign.

Looking back at him, his tense expression relaxes as if he just changed his mind to say something else, and asks a simple question instead. So simple, that it leaves you breathless.

“How have you been?”

You want to be angry at him so bad, but when you’re met with those brown eyes that look nothing but friendly and warm, you can’t bring yourself to be mad or annoyed. Still, you hold your head high with a sour tone behind your words.

“Great,” you inform him, too intensely for your opinion, but it doesn’t matter. “I’ve been great.”

Maybe the huge effort of trying him to believe you is what makes your stomach clench in a discomfort, or maybe it’s the way he looks at you. Like he sees right through your little white lie, but then you’re remembered. This is Hoseok, Jung Hoseok, who knows you like the back of his hand. Or used to know you. You haven’t changed much, you’re still the same person, just with a broken heart.

“That’s good,” he drawls out, and you mentally curse at yourself for trying to sound too happy. He clearly doesn’t believe you. “Are you still with that guy?”

And just like that, Hoseok leaves you breathless and knocking all the air out of your lungs again.

It took you some time to dive into the dating life again. It’s not something you were looking for, it’d be stupid while another guy was constantly on your mind. It’d be unfair to your potential future boyfriend, or just a guy you went on a casual date with. So you waited, it took you a year before you were introduced to a guy by one of your closest friends.

Tim is her colleague, a very charming and polite man, that you were dating for four months. Four months full of amazing dates until you broke it off. As much as those dates where adventurous and amazing, enough for your mind to shut Hoseok out off it, it felt like your relationship wasn’t going anywhere. Yes, maybe four months were a short period of time to do such a drastic decision, but you just weren’t feeling it. It was better to break it off with him before he caught serious feelings, not that you don’t think he wasn’t serious about you. He was, he just deserves a better woman who’s going to love him much more than you ever did.

But you kept your relationship private on social media, not that you were trying to hide him. Not at all. You didn’t post any pictures with him on your Instagram account, it wasn’t nothing intentional. You just never took that many of them.

And still, Hoseok knows about Tim, or at least that you were dating someone. And he calls him ‘that guy’.

“How do you even know that?” you ask, brows furrowed in confusion as you stare at him.

He’s the least person to talk about something. The beautiful brunette on one of his photos is the exact proof of it.

“Just because I lived in Japan, it doesn’t mean I’m completely clueless. We’ve got a mutual friends, Y/N.”

By the usage of your name, your breath hitches in your throat as you stare at him with doe eyes before an annoyed expression crosses your features.

“Mutual friends,” you scoff, “You mean Namjoon.”

It’s evident Namjoon is the one who spilled beans about your only relationship after you and Hoseok broke up. And for a moment, Hoseok’s eyes widen by the realization that you figured it out, even though it wasn’t anything hard to realize.

“We’ve got more mutual friends.” he reminds you dryly, trying to save the situation but you only chuckle in response.

“Namjoon is the only one who keeps talking with the both of us on a daily basis,” you remind him back, causing him to just sigh in defeat knowing there’s no point denying it. “And no. I’m not with that guy. And his name is Tim.”

He visibly widens his eyes at that, before he nods. “Good,” His eyes widens one more time, coughing before he speaks again. “I mean--not good, I thought--“

You raise your brow, trying not to snort at his blubbering and nervous state. You don’t ask him about his love life, the possible answer might not be what you were looking for.

“I get it, you don’t have to, y’know, be a stuttering mess.” you point out, the tip of his ears reddening as he nods awkwardly in response.

There’s a silence for a moment, your hands sprawled against the silk silver material of your dress on your thighs. You look away from him, not having the heart to look at him for any longer, and as you open your mouth to excuse yourself, he opens his own.

“Can we talk?”

You hide the shock, shoulders tensing as you look up at him. “We’re talking.” you tell him slowly, noticing the different glint in his eyes.

Oh, shit. He wants to talk. Not just a casual awkward talk between exes.

“You know what I mean,” he says, the slightest cringe making its appearance on his face, almost as if he's hurting. “I miss you.” he confesses, completely surprising you as he looks alarmed.

“You what?” you ask slowly, not believing you just heard him saying that he misses you.

“I miss you.”

He doesn’t miss a chance to say it again, this time with more confidence and if there was one of the waiters passing by, he’d ask for the whole bottle of wine to chug it down. He’s been embracing himself to talk to you ever since he decided to go to Namjoon’s wedding, knowing you’re invited and going.

“Why are you telling me this?” you breathe out, unsure of what to say.

But your heart says it all when it beats faster, appreciating how those three words sounded from his mouth with that silky and raspy voice. Is he drunk? Why is he telling you such a thing after two years of not communicating with you? On the other hand, he looks completely sober and serious as you see the determination behind his eyes that used to shine with gentleness and joy.

“Because it’s true.” he murmurs, his eyes solely set upon you.

“No, I mean-- why are you telling me this after two years?”

“Because I’m an idiot and it took me two years to realize that my life isn’t what I wanted it to be, if you’re not in it.”

You finally understand the term when someone says ‘it hit me like a bucket of cold water’ — that’s how you feel right now.

“What are you saying? You just can’t come here after such a long time and tell me all those stuff! What do you expect me to do? Welcome you with open arms?”

If he’s embarrassed by the sudden raise of your voice that would catch other’s attention sooner or later, he doesn’t show it and looks at you like a kicked puppy on the street instead. He expected your reaction be like this, he knows you and it doesn’t matter how much time has passed. You haven’t changed and if he could, he’d be the one embracing you with open arms even through your sudden outburst.

“No, I wasn’t expecting any of that,” he tells you, outstretching his hands in peace, or to calm you down, you’re not sure which one it is. “I came here because of you.”

At that, you snort and scoff right after as you stare at him with a raised brow. “Oh please, this is Namjoon’s wedding. Of course, you’d come if the time and your job would allow you to.”

“I wasn’t about to come. Yes, Namjoon invited me and I told him that I won’t probably make it. I don’t know what came over me but I asked him if you’re coming,”

“You asked him if I was coming?” you chuckle, Hoseok’s face cringing by the bitterness behind your tone.

“I was asking him about you all the time.” he admits quietly, eyes scanning your face as you let his words to sink in.

You know Hoseok barely lies, his ears get all red and you can see the frustration on his face right away if he does. But there’s none of it, straight honesty thick in his voice and determination mixed with sadness on his handsome glowy face.

“Why?”

It’s a simple question, yet you see how his Adam’s apple bobs as he gulps before he opens his mouth.

“Because I couldn’t stand the fact that I don’t get to see you or hear your voice. I messed up. I fucked up so bad by leaving to Japan, by leaving you. I thought I was doing the best thing for me but I was wrong. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me, and I can’t believe I was fucking stupid enough to let you go.”

All the emotions that were buried inside of you makes your hands tremble as you try to clutch them in your hold. The tears are brimming in your eyes but you blink them away, staring at Hoseok who looks just as painful.

“Stop, you can’t say things like--“

“Why can’t I? I know this may not be a good time or place, but I had to get it off my chest. Seeing you right now--I just couldn’t wait.” he cuts you off, but still offers a weak smile in apology when he sees your deep frown.

You’ve always hated whenever he interrupted you, it makes your heart jump over the fact he remembers.

“What do you want me to do? You’ve hurt me, Hobi.” you murmur, happy your voice didn’t crack.

He stutters over his words, eyes widening before he looks down in a shame. “I’m sorry.”

You can’t blame him for choosing his career life, you’ve always known how important it is for him to prove himself to his parents. And you’ve always wanted what’s best for him. Although, it doesn’t mean it didn’t hurt when he told you he’s got a new job opportunity in Japan. He expected you to move there with him, but you couldn’t. And when you’ve told him that, he ended things with you. It was mutual, and the most hurtful thing you’ve ever experienced.

The memories of you crying yourself to sleep, pillow damped with your tears are so fresh, that it almost hurts just thinking about it.

“I don’t want you to do anything you’re not comfortable with. If you want me to leave, I will. If you don’t want to see me ever again, you won’t have to.”

Something about how he talks about you not having to see him ever again makes your heart crack. “I don’t hate you, Hobi.” you tell him quietly, watching a hope crossing over his features.

“You don’t?”

“Of course not,” you try to muster a smile, “I could never hate you, no matter how hurt I was. I’m just not sure what I’m supposed to do. This is so all of a sudden. Aren’t you living in Japan?”

“Not anymore,” he answers, smiling when he sees your confusion. “I’ve quit.” he shrugs, causing your eyes to almost buldge out.

“Quit? But you just told Taehyung that you got promoted.”

“I did, but I declined the offer. I just didn’t know what to say, I didn’t think he’d bring it right in front of you,” he explains, causing you to chuckle when he scratches the back of his head in a mere embarrassment. “I’m moving back to Korea and I’ve got a few job offers already.”

You nod, confused how joyful your heart feels at the new information.

“What’s your plan then?” you cough.

“To win my girl back,” He doesn’t waste a minute, answering your question right away while you almost choke yourself on your spit. “I mean... if you let me to.”

“I-I don’t know what to say,” you stutter, shaking tucking a strand of hair behind your ear. “You caught me off guard.”

“You don’t have to say anything. I understand we can’t go back to what we used to have, nor I expect that from you. I just want you to know that I’m sorry.” he smiles sadly at you, tucking his hands into the pockets of his slacks.

“I’m not angry at you,” you tell him, causing him to smile and nod. “I’ve missed you too.” you admit, noticing how big his eyes look.

“You have?”

With a slow nod, you’re shocked when your body is enveloped in a strong arms, your face pressed into his suit as the scent of his fragrance hits your nose. You recognize it immediately, it’s the one you complimented him so many times, causing him to use it all the time. His arms are strong, yet gentle around your frame as you smile into his chest when you feel a soft peck into your hair. He apologizes under his breath, whether it was for the innocent kiss into your hair or just in general, you just shake your head and hug him back. It feels nice to feel him again, not be in his arms.

And even though, you’ve no intention of going back to dating him right away, you know what your heart pleads for. It’s him. It’s always been him, and being so close to him right now just proves it. It proves that even after those two years, you still love him.

He softly pulls away, hand itching to caress your cheek but he stops himself in midway which makes you blush.

“Are you free tomorrow?” he asks, tone cautious and insecure about your possible answer.

It makes you smile, wanting to squeeze his cheeks and kiss those pouty lips. When he sighs, ready to apologize and tell you to forget about it, it feels like you know exactly what’s on his mind. So you interrupt him before he can utter a single word.

“Yeah, I am.” you answer, grinning at him which causes him to open his mouth in shock.

“Y-you are? Yeah, okay. Is coffee okay?”

He clearly thought your answer would be the opposite, and it makes you giggle at his distressed face.

One thing he probably doesn’t know, is that no matter what he’d propose would be the perfect idea for you.

“Coffee’s perfect.” you answer, causing him to visibly sigh in relief as he touches his chest, exactly where his heart is.

Giggling, you lick your lips as he smiles down at you with adoring lips.

“Can I have the dance?” he stretches out his arm for you, causing you to groan which he laughs at.

He knows you hate dancing, especially when he’s so good at it. It makes you look like a total fool. But still, you don’t miss the opportunity to be close to him again, as soft classic music fills the whole room. You place your hand into his and nod in response, causing him to hesitate before he kisses the back of it, your heart screaming at you as you smile at him.

He leads you to the dance floor, one hand placed in yours while the other one holds your waist in a soft and gentleman manner. As you both start to dance, letting your bodies move into a slow and sensual music, both of you don’t look away. You stare at each other, with Hoseok licking his lips and you biting your bottom lip, wanting nothing more than to taste them. But as the gentlemen that Hoseok is, he doesn’t make a move even when you press yourself closer to him.

And when he chuckles at your attempt to get closer to him, he holds you even tighter as he stares lovingly down at you.

It takes you a few minute of dancing, before both of your mouths are pressed together, kissing like there’s no tomorrow.

In the distance you hear all of your and Hoseok’s friends cheering for the two of you, both of you are too busy making up for those two years. However, you still have a long way to go, and you’re getting that coffee tomorrow.

But you wouldn’t have it any other way.

#networkbangtan #bts smut #bts angst #bts fluff #hoseok x reader #jhope x reader #bts au #bts fanfic #hoseok scenario #hoseok drabble #jung hoseok au #personasintro

[aetherarf]

I noticed you do Character X Character and have a cute request:

Ninnguang invites Diluc over for what Diluc thinks is a normal business meeting.

That is until he notices Ninnguang doesn't have any staff beyond chefs, and that said chefs are making his favorite food, and that some of it includes his favorite blended food. And so he thinks she just wants to hang out .

Basically Ninnguang asking Diluc on a date and setting up everything perfect for him because she loves him, but Diluc is extremely dense to it because he thinks she's just being profe.

I feel the need to mention that Diluc doesn't specifically like blended food, it's just easy for him to eat... But this is super cute, here you go :D!

Also I ended up not focusing on food a ton just cuz food is Weird to me but it's....... all really long so i hope that makes it ok.

ALSO I HOPE UR HAPPY I THINK THIS IS LIKE DOUBLE THE NEXT LONGEST THING IVE POSTED HERE

[[ Summary: Ningguang is a woman who knows what she wants, and she gets what she wants... Even if she must be patient... And what she wants isn't something mora can buy. It's something only patience, care, and love can earn... and she's willing, even if a certain red-haired man isn't exactly the best at noticing.

[ Mostly Diluc POV, Last Scene is Ningguang POV ]

Word Count: 5'088 ]]

Liyue, Diluc thought, looking over the harbor. It was loud, and boisterous, but in Liyue, people were better at keeping their distance, especially if they thought someone was of a higher ranking, to prove their respect. At times, it was easier for him to exist here than in Mondstadt, where draping yourself over another person was commonplace.

But he was not here for fun, it was for business.

Lady Ningguang had invited him for a personal dinner--of which he detested. She herself was a fine woman, more genuine and direct with her intentions, but it still meant that she was trying to get goodwill, to try and intertwine business with pleasure...

Something that Diluc didn't need to experience to know it wasn't the best idea... But he needed to play this game, lest she get the upper hand. Even if she was not a high-stakes business partner, she was smart. Give it time and give it effort, and she would have him in the palm of her hand and he could do nothing about it.

Better to dance along for now, and soon he would be able to lead.

After a long walk, glancing curiously at the hounds that seemed to want to play [And how could he not give them a brief pat on the head?] He found himself to Ningguang's... Estate, of sorts.

Odd to think about how, just a few months prior, he had been within the Jade Chamber, and how it had been destroyed within the ocean...

But, knowing Ningguang, she likely was already making preparations to create a second one. For now, she had a pleasant estate, near to the Harbor, but not so much so that it was easily trespassed upon.

The guards out front only looked at him oddly, seeing how he did not stutter with a single step, only adjusting his gloves as he walked past, not even noting their presence.

If someone doesn't look like they're supposed to be there, his father said, many years ago, Then chances are, they're not supposed to be there.

He long since learned to have a facade of confidence wherever he had gone, if only to avoid more human interaction when possible. But, when he got to the entrance to the building, a familiar face.

"Greetings," Diluc said, all refined and poise, "Zhenhai. Has her Lady not told you of my invitation?" He asked, and Zhenhai looked over Diluc, examining him.

"She has," He said, "You are simply early."

Diluc blinked a few times, early? You were supposed to be early. If you were not early, you were late. Even if you agreed at not a second after the hour, if you arrived the second of, you were considered late.

He did not like business games, but he would endure.

"I am simply eager to see her," he said, all lies, "But if you are telling me she does not want me here--"

"No," Zhenhai panickedly blurted out, then tensing, "Ahem... I simply request you wait here for a moment, Master Ragnvindr, I would like to inform Lady Ningguang of your presence."

"Take your time," Diluc dismissed, and as soon as he walked inside, Diluc's shoulders slumped... He was so tired, so tired of all these niceties. He was decent at them, decent enough to play the game, but were he honest, he wishes he didn't have to be constantly going back and forth between entire nations just to play these games.

Maybe, if he had more time, he could go back to an old hobby, of those hundreds of notebooks filled to the brim with ideas that filled his young mind.

Instead of stewing over it, he examined the area... The landscaping was quite nice, many Glaze Lilies were placed in a garden, and the garden was surrounded by pale stones, of a majorly uniform color.

And how the mountains encompassed the area...

It was quite nice. It, distantly, reminded him of the Stormbearer Mountains, but those were quite rough and jagged, these... these seemed more elegant, less accidental from the Anemo Archon's stupor, more intentional ploys from the Geo Archon.

"I am sorry sir," Diluc turned back around, seeing Zhenhai looking at him, tense, "Go right in, Baixiao will bring you to Lady Ningguang."

"Thank you." Diluc nodded towards him respectfully, not wanting to make a young, already foolish boy ( ironic, Diluc was not that old either ) even more humiliated at himself.

As soon as he walked in, well, not even as he got in, the door opened and a young woman with black hair stood before him--A wide smile on her face, looking utterly excited upon seeing his presence.

"Master Ragnvindr, it's a pleasure to see you."

Diluc hesitated, trying to remember this one--The three secretaries were... well, he did not see them often, so remembering them was a demon of its own right.

Zhenhai said Baixiao, so--

"It's a pleasure to see you as well, Baixiao. It seems my early arrival has caused a stir," He sighed, "I apologize if this has inconvenienced you at all."

She blinked a few times over, "Oh, of course not! It's always a pleasure to see your presence, planned or not."

... Is she implying I came on a whim?

"I appreciate the sentiment, Miss Baixiao."

"But," She sighed, "I'm certain you're eager to see Lady Ningguang, after all. This way, Master Ragnvindr." She walked ahead, and he followed suit... As he looked around, it seemed quite... sparse.

Oftentimes, when they invited another over, they would have their staff in full force, just to show that they had presence, but it was the exact opposite. Guards, and Ningguang's secretaries... Only a few, perhaps there were others, but they were not being practically shoved into Diluc's face, which...

Was a breath of fresh air, honestly.

He was lead to a room, and two women--the other two secretaries, Baiwen and Baishi... Not that he knew which was which from looks alone. Baishi, with loving care, was brushing Ningguang's hair, her finger curling a lock of Ningguang's hair before she let it fall and join the rest of it...

And Ningguang looked over at Diluc, a smile of pure adoration on her face.

She's a skilled actor, I'll give her that.

"Master Ragnvindr," She said, softly, "I apologize, I'm still getting ready, but it's lovely to see you again."

"Likewise," He agreed. "It seems, however, I came too early... I'll make sure not to make the same mistake twice-"

"Oh, no, don't worry about that," Ningguang interrupted, "This gives us time to take a brief walk, if you're willing."

A brief walk... That was unplanned. But, if he agreed, Ningguang is 'indebted' to him through things that could seldom be quantified-Through basic niceties and kindness.

When you give another a compliment, they are indebted, and oftentimes pay you back with another compliment. If they do not, there is a minor guilt of not having returned something.

Business always hinged on the debts you owe, and more importantly, what others owe you.

He was not fond of being in debt in any way, shape, or form.

"That sounds wonderful, Lady Ningguang." He praised, and she moved to stand, the woman brushing her hair taking a step back, frazzled, "Baiwen, be a dear and grab my parasol." The woman, Baiwen, nodded and walked off, leaving them with... Baishi and Baixiao, Baishi being the one who had assisted in Ningguang's preparation.

As he met Baishi's eyes, she was glaring at him with no small amount of hatred... Somehow, he was not offended. It was likely nothing more than seeing him as an obstacle, an irritation.

Another business partner to come, waste her time, and then leave once again.

"Well," Diluc said, to prevent an uncomfortable silence, "I apologize for not having reached out in some time, beyond a few letters," He had sent them, as a formality, upon hearing about the... utter chaos in Liyue. "I couldn't endure thinking I was causing you to stress when you already were so busy, so I thought giving you time was best."

She shook her head, "Diluc," she said, oh, the use of his name was very deliberate, "It's never stressing to hear from you..." She rested her hand on his arm, a delicate touch, and he, trying to be as courteous as possible, took it of, holding it gently.

"I'll keep that in mind."

On cue, Baiwen had walked in with a parasol, handing it to Ningguang, and giving a brief nod of respect, before Ningguang waved her off, "All three of you, thank you. You're dismissed for the day, be sure to stay safe."

"Thank you, Lady Ningguang," disturbingly, all three bowed in sync before leaving in line, Diluc unsure if that was rehearsed or simply second nature after happening so many times...

Baishi left a second glare before she was out of sight, the distant sound of closing and shutting doors was heard. Ningguang walked ahead, "Come... we are taking a brief stroll, aren't we?" She asked, raising a brow,

"But of course," he replied, following her footsteps dutifully until they were outside, and she had opened her parasol, holding it over so she could reside in the shade, even if evening was not nearly as blaring with sunlight as the afternoon,

"May I carry that for you?" He offered, and Ningguang smiled, handing it over,

"Oh, of course... thank you, Diluc."

He wasn't sure how he felt about the lack of his title. In a way, it was a relief, like it was nearly permission to take off the mask of professionalism..

But he also was aware this, too, was just a game. Just a way to lower his guard.

As he adjusted to hold it, so both of them could stay in the shade, she grabbed onto his arm with both her own hands, a relaxed position that he oftentimes saw, even in Mondstadt, where a woman would, subtly, claim her lover, to warn off any others... common in those who were insecure, touchy, or noble.

Interesting approach.

He just took a cautionary step forward, setting the pace, before the two of them walked ahead, and she had tugged, gently, on his arm...

She wanted to lead here, too, and he would let her.

They walked past the gardens, he glancing at the Glaze Lilies briefly, but she then stopped him,

"Admiring them, are you?" She asked, letting go of his arm to approach them, looking over her own garden of these flowers.

"Of course, they're beautiful, even without blooming."

A soft snip, and Ningguang plucked a single flower, and with her free hand, it was as though she held something out to it, and she blew gently on her hand, a faint, silvery dust fluttering over the flower, prompting it to bloom, proving its own beauty in such a subtle action.

He walked closer, examining it... He wondered if it was that the plant would respond to Geo energy, as how Windwheel Asters would twirl with the wind, but simply a more subtle reaction...

She lifted her hand, and tucked the flower into his hair, over his ear, before looking over him, nearly glowing with a silent form of pride, before grabbing his arm once again,

"I thought you'd look good with it," She explained, "And I was right."

"If I may be so bold," he smiled--how fake it felt, "I think it'd look better on you," as he was reaching up with his free hand to remove it, she grabbing his hand, and pushed it back down,

"Please," she nearly whispered, "Leave it? Keep it as a gift."

He looked over her features... How genuine she appeared.

It was confusing.

"If you so insist, I will accept this blessing from Liyue's Lady herself,"

She laughed softly, "So formal. You may call me Ningguang... or ah'Guang, if you so wish," she offered, tugging him a little to get him to walk again, as they began strolling their way off of Ningguang's estate.

"... Ah'Guang?" He asked, "I must admit, I've heard children use that in Liyue... such as ah'Qi. What is the meaning of such phrasing?" Diluc knew better than to accept such an offer without knowing what the truth, and meaning, behind it was.

"Hm... That's a little odd to explain. Adding the prefix-ah-is a sign of... Endearment, affection, and familiarity. It must be to the second part of a name, if there are two parts... but for someone named Xu, they would be ah'Xu."

Endearment? Affection? Exactly what was her angle?

"Children call themselves that because their parents adore them, and call them... Ah'Qi, or ah'Xu. They learn to refer to themselves like this for a few years. Close friends and lovers oftentimes use these terms for adoration as well."

Close friends and lovers, this was certainly a brand new method a business partner had used to try and keep them under their thumb.

"That's quite forward of you, Ningguang." He said, accepting her offer to be more familiar, but not... that familiar.

He had limits. He had boundaries. Those boundaries included keeping his business partners at a distance, ironic, seeing how Ningguang seemed content at nearly being pressed to him...

"Would you blame me?" She asked, idly, "You're a wonderful man, it'd be a shame to not make the most of such a relationship."

He didn't know what to say to that, if he was honest...

"You speak too highly of me," He insisted, "I was born to wealth-you created your own with blood and tears."

She shook her head, "Maybe so, but that alone does not dictate your worth as a person... Mora is wonderful, but it is not everything."

"Well," he thought, trying to figure out what she wanted him to say, and what he wanted to say, "I hope I can continue to live up to your expectations."

"That won't be hard," she hummed, "You surpass them with every moment."

A silence fell over them again, but he was no fool... if you pretend you belong, no one will look twice. He simply continued walking, the both of them continuing as they found their way to the harbor, during the evening, not as many people were present, mostly only keeping to their homes to settle down for the day, or having a small celebration between friends, but large get-togethers, like how getting absolutely sloshed at the nearest tavern just wasn't customary in Liyue.

So, now it was mostly just small groups of people, or duos, and some children running around to get their energy out just before or after dinner.

Diluc looked at the horizon, admiring how it nearly looked golden with the low-hanging sun reflecting off of the gently rolling waters.

"I love this time of day," She said, gently taking the parasol from Diluc's hand and walking ahead, closer to the ocean, only stopping before the fence that stopped any clumsy fool from falling into the ocean, "Ah... if only it was easier to keep in the shade, though."

Diluc examined her... and her parasol.

"Is there a reason you enjoy the shade?" He asked, standing beside her.

"I was born with a sort of... condition. My body cannot produce color," She gestured to her own face, "I burn quite easily... You're also quite pale, do you suffer the same struggle?" She asked, tilting her head to the side a little.

"Hm... Not exactly. Light is a little..." He struggled to find his words, and Ningguang just gazed over him, leaning over the railing, her head propped up by one hand, "I see things a little differently, as insane as I might sound. Light feels brighter, sounds louder... I suppose I simply do best in a mild environment."

"Interesting," She hummed, looking back over the ocean, "I have a... friend, of sorts, who is quite similar. She's less mild mannered than yourself, however, quick to be upset... and she's thrown a few tantrums, to be honest. She doesn't have the... tact that you do."

Diluc looked over the ocean... How it sparkled. It was a little hard to endure, the bright light of near-sunset... But he could endure.

"I suppose I learned how to handle it, but... I think it's a little more like pain. Some people can endure it better, some can't. No fault on either side, it's simply how it is."

He felt eyes on him, and looked back down at Ningguang, who looked... worried.

"Are you in pain, Diluc?"

... What a question.

"Yes, but I can handle it." He answered, fully honest. She straightened her back from her lounging position, and rested her hand atop his on the railing,

"Just because you can doesn't mean you should..."

Diluc didn't want to look at her, having heard this one too many times, and luckily, a blessing found itself in bashing right into the back of his legs, he trembling in shock as he saw a child on the ground, having knocked flat into him and collapsed onto the ground. Without hesitation, he crouched down onto one knee, and it seemed Ningguang did the same, both fussing over the young child, with bells in her hair...

"I... I'm sorry!" She blubbered, openly sobbing after only a moment of having been knocked on her rear, "I just... I just didn't know where to go, and..."

"Shhh," Ningguang hushed, softly, "Dearie, it's alright, I promise," She cooed softly, petting the top of the girl's head, "What do you mean, You did't know where to go?" She asked...

Diluc was endlessly thankful, and admittedly impressed, that she was dealing with the child so well.

"I..." The little girl wiped her nose, snotty from her sobbing, "Liyue Harborlooks different when it's not sunny, and..." Back to the blubbering.

"Hey," Ningguang hushed, sweetly, "Do you know any places near where you live? I know Liyue Harbor pretty well, I could help you find your way back home."

The girl nodded, "Uhm... Where... where does that... Girl with the spicy bear go?"

Diluc had to stop himself from taking a double take at that.

"Spicy bear... Oh, I think I know the place. Is that near your home?"

The girl nodded, "I... I could find my way home if I was there."

Ningguang laughed, softly, "Oh, sweetie... That's not that far," Ningguang stood up, and held out her hand to the girl, and she took it, assisting her to her feet.

"Okay," Ningguang pointed down to a street, "Just go that way, and turn left. Keep going for a bit and look for tables, if you go too far, you'll find another part of the docks... Do you think you can find you way on your own?"

The girl looked at the street...

"Yeah, yeah, I think I can... Thank you, Miss..." She nodded, turning around and finding her way along.

"You're good with kids, Ningguang." Diluc mentioned, quietly, "Shall I take the parasol again?"

She handed it over, "Thank you... and thank you. Children are sweet... Plus, most adults will let secrets spill around them. They have quite a bit to say, when you let them."

Distantly, Diluc thought of that... Diona girl, with how she constantly tried to put disgusting things in the vineyards... and Klee, who was well known for her adoration of bombs and explosions.

"You haven't seen the children of Mondstadt," he joked.

"Nonsense... Besides, there's this girl, sweet as sugar... But she's, well, she's a zombie, for a lack of better wording." She sighed, "She's... odd. But she works very hard."

"I'd take a zombie girl over a pyromaniac who risks destroying the city with her bombs..."

Ningguang looked at him oddly, "... I can't tell if you're joking."

"I'm not."

There was a moment of silence, and she blinked a few times.

"... I suppose that makes sense why you wouldn't like children."

"Wait," Diluc interrupted, a little surprised when she grabbed his arm again, but he got over it, "I never said that."

"But... you seemed quite tense when that little girl was here."

And he didn't seem tense for the rest of this... business date?

"I don't think I'm good with kids. I didn't want to scare her... But I do like kids. Kids just don't like me."

"Well," She thought for a moment, "Kids are simple. Give them a piece of candy, prove you can carry one or two of them, and they're happy. Adults are the confusing ones... So many things to keep track of, and you can't make them happy with a shiny coin or two..."

Diluc didn't have anything to say about that, so he didn't, opting to only walk ahead with Ningguang, to observe the last few moments of sunlight before bringing the both of them back to the estate, Ningguang all but dragging him inside, opening the door for him, he offering a polite nod in thanks.

"That was longer than I thought it'd be..." Ningguang muttered, "Is that alright with you, Diluc?" She asked, and he nodded.

"Of course, it was pleasant... I just fear I may have interrupted your plans for the evening." He admitted, adjusting his gloves, and she shook her head.

"You couldn't have interrupted everything, I've reserved all of today just for you, Diluc."

Once again, hearing his own name from her lips felt... odd.

"I'm humbled, Ningguang... Thank you."

"You don't need to thank me, Diluc... I'm just blessed to spend time with you." She insisted, taking a step closer, closing the distance between them, Diluc, hesitantly, taking a step back...

Luckily, she didn't continue to advance.

"Come," She said, closing her parasol and setting it on a table, "Dinner should be ready." She walked ahead, standing in the threshold as she waited for him to get closer, before she found herself to the table, it all prepared, likely while they were absent, and sitting down on one side, Diluc sitting right across from her...

And as though it was magic, a servant appeared and had poured them both a cup of tea--And Diluc didn't miss how one, two bits of sugar were put into his, briefly mixed before left behind for him.

"The first dish will come soon," The servant said, before disappearing briefly, and Ningguang lifted the cup to her lips, taking a sip...

"I should mention, Diluc," she said, her cup lightly clinking against the table, as Diluc took a sip himself... pleasantly sweet, but not overpowering. "I'm certain you've heard of those... incredible seventeen course Liyue meals, yes?" She asked, and he felt his gut sink...

Oh, he was going to be feeling it tomorrow. He knew better than to reject food, especially in a business setting, but... it was just- it was so hard to force his body to swallow, sometimes.

"I don't care for those.. frivolous meals." She said, plainly, "So it may seem a little plain, a little simple. I hope this doesn't disappoint."

...

Maybe she really was more relateable than he thought.

"Actually, that's quite nice to hear," he admitted, leaning back in his chair a little, relieved, "I was a little worried there'd be countless dishes, all with the dedication of Golden Crab... No disrespect if you enjoy such a dish-"

"I don't," she said, bluntly, "In fact, I find it quite ridiculous. Maybe a crab boiled on it's own... a little bit of broth to dip, would be pleasant, but the... ugh, disgracing a creature with a bath of batter and oil... Pardon my cruelty, but it makes my stomach turn."

For the first time that night, Diluc smiled, and chuckled genuinely.

"I couldn't have said it better myself. I-My brother, adoptive, mind you, sometimes I wonder if he only likes dishes due to their supposed 'status', that their fame automatically lends itself to being delicious... Ridiculous. I could give him a Jade Parcel full of a sponge and he'd tell me it was 'impeccable' or something like that."

Ningguang laughed aloud at that comment, "Oh, oh my goodness, that's what Keqing is like with... what was it, Golden Shrimp Balls? She's so serious and poised, but if someone puts those in front of her, she loses it, like a starved dog in front of a choice cut of meat. I wonder if I should do that--or fill it with Jueyun Chilis, just to see if her gluttony can withstand it."

Diluc snorted with laughter, "No, no, because there's a chance she'll like the spice... Fill it with sugar."

She gasped as though he suggested something utterly scandalous, "Oh, that's perfect... She even says she doesn't like when someone tampers with food, such as salted Almond Tofu or sweetened soup..."

Even as the dishes had come out, laughter had rung out with their... admittedly unprofessional discussion, from anywhere to using Jueyun chilis to brew wine for Diluc oh-so unfortunate brother, and making delectably enticing cupcakes filled and topped with Qingxin petals, just to taunt poor sweet Ganyu...

And eventually, they were done, and Diluc...

He actually enjoyed it.

In a moment of speculation when Ningguang briefly dismissed herself, he thought about it, analyzing the conversation...

He should have had more restraint, than to fall into such a trap. From what he could recall, he offered a lot of information to Ningguang, he seldom ever called Kaeya 'brother', much less to business partners, to prevent them from reaching out to Kaeya in an attempt to get to him, but...

He didn't agree to anything, at least.

As he looked at the scroll, of a painting within, that was placed on the wall, he felt a hand on his shoulder, and he looked over to see Ningguang looking up at him, her eyes wide...

Sparkling, almost.

"Are you alright? You didn't respond."

"Oh," another moment of weakness, "I was lost in thought. I am alright, Lady Ningguang." He gently moved her hand off of his shoulder, but she did not pull it away... and he did not abandon it so quickly.

"As long as you're alright." She said, and then... she had gone quiet, examining Diluc's face, a brief moment of silence as they both looked at each other.

"When," she said, in little more than a breath, "Can I see you again?"

...

This meant she was expecting an invitation to Mondstadt, wasn't it?

He seldom wanted her there, but...

The Winery would be fine.

"Give me a few days," he said, "I'll send letters, and we can make plans. Was there anything you wished to see?"

She was quiet for a moment, and shook her head.

"To see you is enough." She insisted.

Great.

"Well... I should be going." He sighed, avoiding her intense gaze, "I mustn't be keeping you."

"You couldn't keep me, Diluc... But I understand. Be safe, I eagerly await to see you once again."

"I look forward to seeing you."

And with that, they parted ways, and Ningguang, for a long moment, only watched.

Why did he feel like he was neglecting something?

... ... ...

Ningguang sighed, sitting on a stone bench beside the glaze lilies, who opened in the moonlight, watching as the subtle wind pushed them to and fro...

"Lady Ningguang," Zhenhai greeted, "Are you alright?"

She looked over him, examining him.. and sighed, moving a little out of the way, silently offering him a seat. While she felt no need for a bodyguard, perhaps being alone wasn't the best idea.

"I'm fine," She said, plainly, "Just another... Fruitless attempt." She explained, straightening her spine to seem more proper.

"With Master Ragnvindr?" Zhenhai asked, and solemnly, she nodded. It was no secret that she had eyes for only Sir Ragnvindr, and of which has not been reciprocated... or, honestly, even acknowledged, which made it all the more painful.

"Did something go wrong?" He asked, looking at the glaze lilies before him... And Ningguang sighed,

"No... But, I cannot say anything went right, either. It simply happened. If I must say one thing about Master Ragnvindr," She leaned forth, letting her fingertips touch a petal of one of the flowers, "He is a smart man who knows better than to let anyone get the upper-hand. His weakness is also his greatest strength--He keeps everyone at a distance."

She tried to hide how her voice shook, but it was not like it mattered. Anything that happened with Zhenhai did not matter, for he was just a young boy, barely old enough to legally work, and anything he would say would be swiftly forgotten.

"Well, he is smart, and he should know better than to avoid business dealings with you." Zhenhai said, plainly, "Maybe be more blunt, I feel like he's not fond of trying to beat around the bush."

Ningguang turned to look at Zhenhai, confused, "Business dealings," She echoed, "I am not trying to coerce him into working with me." Her voice was a little more stern, but as she saw his expression...

There was a degree of fear, but overall, he was confused.

"You're not?" He asked, "I apologize, Lady Ningguang... I-I simply thought you were. But, maybe this is a good thing," He blabbered out, tense, panicked, "Maybe he doesn't realize you're not trying to do business with him, and he's... misunderstanding like how I did?"

Ningguang was about to shoo him off... But she widened her eyes.

Wait...

That's exactly what it was.

Diluc wasn't just keeping her at a distance--he was... oh, he was dense. Somehow, that didn't make him any less ideal in her eyes, but it clarified everything.

How he would keep his distance, physically, to maintain a business professionalism, how he spoke only few words, and when he spoke of himself, he gave little for her to work with.

"Oh, dear," Ningguang stood, "Zhenhai, you're right." She said, and Zhenhai's eyes widened.

"I am?"

"Absolutely... and as punishment for embarrassing me," She grabbed his ear, "Come help me figure out how to tell him."

"Ah! Wait! Wait, I don't know what's going on!"

"Don't worry, you'll be getting paid overtime."

"That doesn't explain anything!"

Well, he'd find out...

And, with Zhenhai's help, maybe she could get a better view into Diluc's mind...

Maybe he was right the first time, just to be more blunt with her intentions, even if he too was confused.

The worst that could happen was rejection, and she could go on with her life, even if the idea caused a great pain...

But it would be more painful if she never brought it up.

#genshin impact #diluc #ningguang #diluc x ningguang #ningguang x diluc #dilguang #// theres no good ship name #// ???? #bark writes #// looks @ my 15 tabs open on my 11 year old macbook #// oh no

[kinetic-elaboration]

September 17: 3x07 Day of the Dove

I am incredibly discombobulated today—usual weekend nocturnal shenanigans I guess! Anyway it’s somehow midnight. Gonna try to write up these note on the Classic episode The Day of the Dove in as efficient a manner as possible.

Hmm, a planet with wavy pink Fraggle plants. I like it already.

But where is Spock? Very suspicious.

I really appreciate Kirk giving a little speech to set up the overall question/issue for us. (I know he does this all the time with the Captain’s logs but this is out loud and so… more obviously expository.)

Oh no, it’s our old friends…the Klingons.

I will admit that this ONE TIME, the Klingon is being reasonable. Like, it is reasonable to think that Kirk and the Enterprise attacked his ship, given that his hip WAS attacked, and who else would it be?

Three years of peace between the Klingons and the Federation? That is inclusive of the show so all this tension must technically be “peace” and also implies there was something more like a direct war going on, like, right before Kirk got the captaincy.

Zoolander voice: What is this, a colony of the INVISIBLE?

“We have no devil. But we understand the habits of yours.”

No takers? No takers on the torture? No volunteers to be mercilessly tortured by the Klingons?

Star Trek Beyond could have had Kirk and Chekov bond over being brothers! I mean, to other people.

They’ll kill 100 hostages at the first sign of treachery. He does know there are only 400-some people on the ship right? Maybe you should pace yourself, Kang.

Kirk’s so badass he needs MULTIPLE guns trained on him just to use the phone.

Oh-ho secret message to Spock. Which version of the iPhone will be capable of doing THAT?

The Klingons are “suspended in transit” is an awfully nice way of saying they’re just dematerialized atoms in space. Philosophy major and/or Bones nightmare fuel.

How did Kang not see this coming, by the way? Like, he just says “I’m taking your ship now, me and my 6 men versus your 400-some men, and I’ll do this by simply declaring it to be so. Now let’s beam up to your ship, where I’ll be greatly outnumbered, and there are armed security guards all around me.” Guess he’s been reading The Secret!

WIFE AND SCIENCE OFFICER

Aka the most important part of this whole episode.

Kirk’s face is very ?????? You can have both????

It’s legitimately not even important for her to be the science officer tbqh. Like that is so gratuitous. That’s just in there to drive me insane.

"We're prisoners, somehow, after I demanded to come on the ship, assuming they'd just give it to me without any kind of fight. How DID this happen?”

Federation death camps lol—someone’s been watching Fox News.

I do kind of wonder… is this an actual rumor that goes around the Klingon homeworld or is it something that the alien entity put in her head specifically to make her angrier right now? I mean it really could be either.

I also appreciate this episode for being pretty much the only one to actually attempt to give the Klingons a reason for being as they are. The Romulans… maybe aren’t well-described, but they do have a sort of regalness to them, appropriate for being related to Vulcans, and you can kind of imagine that they are the way they are because they’re Vulcans without the intense self-control. Plus they’re literally only in 2 TOS eps and in the second, the Federation are the aggressors. But the Klingons show up a half-dozen times only to be depicted each time as just like Cartoonishly Bad, aggressive, violent, and selfish for basically no reason. And I mean, some people really are!! But TOS has so much nuance in other places, that it always seemed a little disappointing to me that the Klingons are really just like ‘well we’re just bad and we hate everyone and we really like killing I guess.” At least in this ep there’s a little more added to that: that there is poverty on their world, that they feel aggrieved, that they feel unprotected, that taking and conquering is how they look after themselves…

I think that’s later in the episode though.

He’s detaining them in the LOUNGE lol. With their favorite dishes available to them to eat. Absolutely barbarous conditions.

I can’t believe Chekov is hanging in the elevator with the cool kids. Like, one of these things really isn’t like the others.

Kang is officially sure of himself for someone currently imprisoned in the lounge, that most fearsome of Federation death camps.

Hmm, could the glittery light alien have taken over??

You know what, that's a lot of tasks for Johnson to do all by himself: search the whole ship, fix the engines, and free 400 people.

Sulu would love this: everyone gets a sword!!

“Bridge. I gotta show this to Sulu immediately.”

Klingons have maintained a dueling tradition. That’s interesting. Finally some characterization going on.

Spock is really living up to his logical nature today. Everyone else has gone off the emotional deep end and he’s like “have you considered this completely rational explanation that accounts for the actual, observed facts??”

Whoops Chekov is actually an only child. Scratch that previous Beyond headcanon. (Interesting that his dead brother does really resemble Sam though—killed on a research colony??)

Love that Sulu knows that about him though.

Oh, that’s a pretty schematic picture of the Enterprise. I want that on a t-shirt.

Lol the pan out to the armory, now filled with… swords!!

Do ALL of these men have a fetish for swords? Sulu and fencing, Spock displaying swords in his quarters, and Kirk in his San Francisco apartment, and Scotty salivating over this Scottish blade.

“Klingon units.”

Finally Sulu gets his sword! It’s what he deserves.

Love that the shiny light alien also has a fetish for swords.

Oh no, it’s our old adversary, an alien life force.

What is the alien’s purpose? Um, I’m pretty sure its purpose is to start shit.

“An appropriate choice of terms, Captain.” I don’t even remember what this is referring to but I think it’s pretty clear that Spock is enjoying himself during a crisis again.

Bones, being so dramatic. Were there atrocities? He’s talking about the Klingons as if they were literally hacking off limbs—it’s a few stab wounds here and there, chill.

Oooh, time to behave like military men—strong words. (But I thought it wasn’t the military?? @ S**** P****) (This might not even be my best argument, given the context of this episode, but I’m sticking with it.)

This is like a giant game of capture the flag.

AU that’s just about the Enterprise crew playing capture the flag with the Klingons.

Sulu in the background standing guard with his sword

Damn, turning on Spock with the slurs now!!

Spock was absolutely ready to kill him. Like he would 100% have taken him out with a blow to the head. And he’d been doing such a good job of not feeling the alien’s effects so far! Admittedly, that was a strong provocation though.

Honestly, I really like this scene. It’s uncomfortable and tense and you can really see how the alien is bringing out the worst possible influences of their respective races. And I liked how Spock was definitely full on pre-Reform Vulcan for a minute there. It was a more effective portrayal of what that might have looked like than All Our Yesterdays tbqh.

A result of… stress?

Kirk got himself out of it first. He’s so strong. He knows himself so well, he cannot be outsmarted by any alien.

“We’ve been taught to think in terms other than war.”

“The alien brings out the worst of us—patriotic drumbeating…even race hatred.”

He’s so sad; he can’t imagine thinking like that about Spock :(

Sulu in a Jeffries tube! A man of many talents. It’s okay bb, take credit for turning on the lights.

The alien must have been getting bored. The Klingons must have been doing too well, and the playing field needs to be leveled for maximum shit-stirring.

“Let’s find that alien.” That’s how I ALWAYS feel.

Oh, Kang, you’re so close—“What power supports our battle but thwarts our victory.” So, so close to getting it.

ALIEN DETECTED.

Spock takes his sword, of course.

“Jim.” Obligatory Jim moments hit differently when they’re not so obligatory.

“Jim—stop hitting my protégé. And put that sword down.”

Kirk looks so sad, picking Chekov up to carry him bridal style.

Also in addition to ‘race hatred’ I think we need to add ‘rape-y tendances’ to the bad stuff that the alien is inspiring here.

“A brief surge of racial bigotry. Most distasteful.” Spock winning for understatement of the year.

They're assuming the alien is trying to test out their relative powers but I think it just wants entertainment. I mean, doesn’t it look like a naughty little thing?

Mara’s outfit is… little shorts? Interesting. Usually not my style but she makes it work.

Spock doesn’t even look at Johnson as he falls lol. Another one bites the dust.

“It exists on the hate of others.”

What does this remind me of? Oh, the Vast of Night and the whole “aliens made us do every bad thing ever” conspiracy theory. At least this one makes more sense, in part because it is not quite so overwhelmingly broad!

All hostile attitudes must be eliminated, he says, and there's Mara right behind Kirk giving him a death stare lol.

Kang is so obviously posing. Google Earth, always taking pictures.

Only a few minutes before drifting forever in space becomes inevitable? Good thing Kirk works well under pressure.

“Well… do whatever you can, Scotty. You know the drill.” Doesn’t even bother giving real directions anymore. We’ve been in this scenario before.

“So we drift in space, with only hatred and bloodshed aboard.”

And the 392 people below just get to…live in Enterprise prison, I guess.

Star date: Armageddon. So dramatic!

I’m not even making that up; that’s an actual quote. Can you imagine being an Admiral listening to this?

“Stop the war now.” An actual line, really aired on television.

Spock wants to threaten the wife lol. That's the old pre-Reform Vulcan seeping through. Surak who?

Damn, Kang is cold. “Eh, she gets the concept of being killed in battle.” They’re gonna need marriage counseling after this.

“There is another way. Mutual trust and help.” Yes that’s my hero!!

“No one can guarantee the actions of another.” Can’t remember the context of this entirely anymore, but great line.

The entity is loving this—multi-person choreographed sword fight!!

"Those who hate and fight must stop themselves. otherwise it is not stopped.” Another baller line. Spock has a lot of deep thoughts today. And so does Kirk. And Kang.

Kirk tries to reason with the alien. Nice try.

“Shoo. Shoo, alien. Off the ship, go away.”

Omg that last moment—Kang slapping Kirk’s back way too hard, Spock’s completely ridiculous wide-eyed expression when he does, like some sort of combo of amusement and confusion, and then Sulu just passing on by in the background….

Then the alien just yeets itself into space. And that’s the end!

Always feels weird when there’s no wrap up on the bridge.

Also, what are they going to do with the Klingons? They have no ship. They really did come out of this a lot worse than Kirk and co. No ship, huge casualties—and no one to blame even, but the alien.

I feel like the alien messed up a little in killing so many Klingons. Like, it could have accomplished its purpose, angering the Klingons and turning them on Kirk, by attacking the ship a little less violently—you know they’d react to 5 deaths pretty much the same as 400, and then there would be many more people to fight forever and produce that sweet sweet anger!

Maybe the alien’s powers aren’t strong enough to influence 800 people though. Also it wants equal forces and 800 people wouldn’t fit on the Enterprise, one assumes. So it still makes sense.

That was, of course, an excellent episode. 100% agree with is classic status, even though the main things I remembered going in were the wife + science officer bit, and everyone laughing at the end in a really forced, fake way, in order to make the alien go away.

I thought the Klingons were a lot better/more interesting today than usual. First, I think Kang is a better character, or a better actor maybe, than the others; he has a certain way about him that is… more watchable, more sympathetic. And he’s always saying these really dramatic things that make it seem likely he writes patriotic Klingon war poetry in his off time. Also, including his wife made them seem more… not human obviously, but normal. Not just cardboard cut-out villains. And of course the actual lightly specific motivations I earlier mentioned helped too.

Also, the plotting was very good: it built up slowly but surely over time, so at first the alien’s influence wasn’t that obvious, and then it became more so, and then it became horrifically obvious and extreme. And then you had to re-evaluate earlier moments: was that the alien changing facts in their heads, or a real part of the animosity between humans and Klingons? And it wasn’t always clear, which I appreciated. The tension when the people were at their worst wasn’t overdone, like in that moment with Scotty, Spock, and Kirk—or even in Chekov’s assault on Mara, tbh. The various strategies of the different sides were very entertaining too; there was never a dull moment, and they fit in a lot of straight-up actions and twists into 50 minutes.

The possible threat was truly terrifying, also: stuck in a space ship, forever, unable to die, feeling the worst possible emotions all the time, besieged, angered, despairing, fighting a war that can’t be won, being injured and suffering only to recover and fight again, and it never stops… A perfect nightmare mixture of insanity and violence and pain. And the alien, in encouraging hatred and anger, doesn’t discriminate between sides: they turn on each other just as much as on the Klingons, breeding paranoia and infighting. For eternity.

The episode also felt much more strongly anti-war than I remember tbh. Like it was not subtle. Kirk literally says “stop the war” in so many words. He has a part in his speech where he talks about the possibility of other aliens out there, encouraging other wars. And while I do think “maybe the aliens are making us do it” is a cop out explanation, or would be if it were real, the scenario gave the show a lot of room to say, like, pretty ballsy things: to include “patriotic drum beating” along with “race hatred” in a list of corrupting feelings they were experiencing; to show how the same instincts that lead to warring also lead to sexual assault and the aforementioned ‘race hatred;” to reveal the true horror of an endless war by making the participants unkillable and sticking them in a singular space ship in the middle of nowhere; to imply that the combatants of war gain nothing from it, but outside or third-party entities will pull strings of their own design to profit from the conflict as long as possible; even to make an impassioned plea to camera to stop the endlessness of the conflict. Like I can’t even totally unpack this but it is a lot!

Finally, it was also a great Kirk episode, which of course is my most important factor. He’s smart; he’s strong; he’s so sure of himself and his values that he cannot be manipulated to mindless hatred, he represents the values of the Federation, and the show itself; he treats even his enemies with basic respect and humanity; and ultimately, he saves the day.

Okay I was not efficient in writing this up at all! It is very late!!

#the year 2021 #2021: star trek #2021: fandom thoughts #star trek tos

[tallycraven]

brainwashed!raelle pt.3

(pt. 1) (pt. 2) cw: torture, violence, a lil slappy a lil stabby.

Raelle leaves the room and Scylla crashes back into her seat, flooded with relief. Relief that Raelle’s alive; a little fucked in the head, but alive.

She also can’t be that fucked in the head if she remembered her favorite color. Scylla had barely been able to stop herself from crying in joy when Raelle had corrected her planted mistake.

It means Raelle’s still in there somewhere.

She sends a small thanks into the air for Izadora and her brief lesson on memory modification.

Now she just has to figure out how to get her out how to unpick the knot that was planted in her head.

Raelle is frustrated.

The headache doesn’t go away and each time she’s brought the meal to her prisoner, it just gets worse. Especially when Scylla looks up at her and asks about two people named Abigail and Tally.

The moment those names leave Scylla’s mouth, a strong throb of pain makes her double over as a wave of nausea washes through her.

Scylla pulls against her chains in an attempt to get closer to Raelle to soothe her pain but Raelle reads it as a threat and scrambles back a few feet, hand clutched at the back of her neck where her skull meets her spine.

“Why can’t you understand I’m not trying to hurt you?!” Scylla says out of frustration. “I’m trying to get you to remember!”

“There’s nothing to remember! I don’t know you! I don’t know anybody named Abigail or Tally either.” Raelle insists and hurriedly leaves the room again, trying hard to ignore the way her head surges in pain.

And yet no matter what her mouth and brain says, she still finds herself in Willa’s office while her mom is out of the safehouse.

She doesn’t know what she’s looking for exactly but she’s rifling through mission reports and blueprints scanning for mentions of the names Abigail and Tally or even Scylla when she comes across a file labelled Ramshorn, S. — infiltration and recovery.

Reading Scylla’s dossier is strange. It feels a little like she’s encroaching on something she shouldn’t be, like she’s found a secret that wasn’t hers to learn just yet.

She gets to the actual updates and reports and her headache becomes splitting. her vision blurs and when she reaches up to wipe her nose, her hand comes away bloody.

It’s then that the door opens and she looks up to see her mother standing in the doorway.

Willa’s face is a combination of surprise, disappointment, and enough rage to make Raelle a little scared.

“Raelle.” She says in that way that moms do when they know they’ve caught you doing something you shouldn’t. She drops the bait, staring straight into Raelle’s eyes as if saying, go on, tell me your excuse.

Raelle fumbles, of course, there’s a headache that rivals Zeus’s flowering in her temples. With her eyes darting back and forth from her mother to the paper in her hand, Raelle finds herself stuck between fury and confusion.

The fury wins out in the end, because she is still Raelle Collar after all. Rage is embedded in her veins, no matter what apparent fuckery has been done to her brain.

“Mom, I know who she is.” She says, but her voice is less furious and more unsteady than she’d like. “She knows who I am.”

Willa seems to be collecting her thoughts before taking a couple of steps towards raelle.

Raelle instinctively backs up towards the bookshelves in her mom’s office.

Willa stops and says, “Raelle, come now, don’t be ridiculous. she’s an ex-associate that we’re punishing for leaking valuable knowledge.”

There’s something dark and untrustworthy in Willa’s eyes. Something that tells Raelle she’s only telling half-truths like she’s always done. Always half-truths.

Raelle tries to dash towards the doorway and book it out, but she barely gets three steps past her mom when there’s a thumb to her forehead and she’s knocked out cold.

It’s irritatingly familiar. 

Scylla wakes from an uncomfortable nap to the sound of her prison door being opened. It’s weird, seeing as her daily visit from Raelle had already happened and her next one wasn’t due for at least another twenty hours.

A spark of hope strikes at the sight of Raelle coming in again and a million thoughts of salvation flood her. Maybe whatever work had been performed on Raelle had been undone, maybe Raelle uncovered her memories, maybe she was simply just strong and capable enough to break through the illusions.

All of it is shut down and smothered the moment Raelle’s eyes meet hers.

Empty.

Fuck—

is the only thought that doesn’t even make it past her lips as she’s met with a rough backhand slap that almost draws blood.

She finds that the pain from the slap isn’t what hurts the most. It’s the fact that Raelle doesn’t so much as even flinch when she strikes her again.

This time it is enough to draw blood; the impact splits her chapped lips and Scylla finds herself wincing at the pain which only makes it worse.

She’s busy blinking the blur from her vision when Raelle takes two steps back and shakes her hand off like she’d just touched something unsavory.

Willa steps in behind Raelle with a smirk and Scylla’s so angry that she pulls against the chains with an angry scream.

“What did you do?! You can’t just fuck with someone’s head like that! You can’t make her into someone she’s not!”

She receives nothing in return other than a calm smirk from Willa, so she turns her attention back to Raelle.

Kind, soft, gentle Raelle who’d never hurt her before. Who’d touched her like she was made of the thinnest glass. Who ran her fingers along Scylla’s spine like she was afraid Scylla would come undone if she pressed too hard. And she begs.

“Raelle please, this isn’t you, they’ve done something, you have to listen to me. You have to remember, I’m—“

The next hit is a straight on punch to her cheek, sending her back in her chair and tilting back; the only thing that stops her from collapsing back onto the ground is hand that Willa places against the back of the chair as she walks around Scylla.

Willa leans down next to Scylla’s ear and she can hear the smirk in her voice when she says, “Now now, don’t strain yourself too hard to convince her of things. You are the one who killed her friends after all.”

“Fucking bold of you to think you can stop those two annoying shits from finding you.” Scylla bites back, missing the small pinch of confusion that briefly flashes on Raelle’s face.

Willa’s smile drops and she returns to her full height, “My daughter’s going to teach you what happens to a traitor to the cause, Ms. Ramshorn. Unless you tell us what you learned from the army before you double-crossed us, you’ll find I’ve told her there are no limits.”

The realization. The reveal. Daughter. Scylla’s caught between laughing at the situation and wishing that her arms were free so she can throttle Willa.

What kind of mother abandons her daughter and then sends a terrorist cell’s agents to steal her away from the army?

And on the matter of her punishment: it’s a trick, of course. Scylla never properly learned any secrets. She’d been sent in to learn how to all the tips and tricks of how to be a Necro and assigned the task of delivering Raelle shortly after.

Raelle’s been ordered to beat and/or torture nonexistent secrets out of her.

It’d be laughable if she couldn’t feel the remains of her heart being ground into dust.

Willa leaves not too long after that, leaving her alone with Raelle, who just stands across from her, eyes calculating and fingers splaying out every so often before tightening back into a fist.

“Raelle, I didn’t kill your—“

The sudden slap stings and reopens the just-clotting gash on her lip. Scylla tilts her head back to the singular light in her cell and breathes deep, the taste of copper heavy on her tongue.

It was better when Raelle looked like she didn’t know her. She doesn’t quite know how to deal with the raw hatred in her eyes now.

So she stays quiet, she lets Raelle watch her until she apparently can’t stand the sight of Scylla anymore and leaves, slamming the door behind her.

Scylla just sags in her chair and stares up at the ceiling of her cell, letting the light burn into her retinas so that she doesn’t have to see the hate in Raelle’s eyes when she closes her own.

Sometimes she wishes she had been found and killed in that fucking garage.

Scylla wakes up to water being thrown in her face, because of course.

Raelle’s looking at her with a quirked eyebrow and steely eyes that are almost grey in this light.

“You’re going to tell me everything you learned about Alder and Bellweather.”

“Mm,” Scylla hums, running her tongue over her busted lip and stretching against her chains, “Bellweather like the mother of your friend who I killed?”

Raelle grips the back of her head, threading her fingers into her hair and pulling hard enough for Scylla to wince, forcing her to look her dead in the eyes.

“Answer me.”

“Harder.” Scylla sneers up at Raelle, shit-eating grin on her face as she stares the only person she’s ever loved in the eyes and resorts to the last weapon in her arsenal of defense: humor.

Too bad Raelle doesn’t seem to appreciate it as much as she would’ve several months ago. No, instead of smirking back and kissing her like Scylla so wishes that she would, she pulls away and tightens the chains to Scylla’s arms, binding them uncomfortably behind her back.

And then launches a punch straight into her stomach.

“Fuck, shit, why don’t you just climb inside my brain and take your information?” Scylla gasps, struggling against the tightened cuffs, “Oh, that’d be too simple of an answer, huh? To find nothing there. Because I didn’t kill Tally or Abigai—“

Gods, is she sick of being slapped.

It carries on the same way for at least a week. Scylla loses count by the fifth time Raelle comes around, this time with tools. And it’s nothing like the girl she remembers, like a core part of her has been surgically removed.

Scylla makes some passing comment about Willa being a bitch and gets stabbed in return. It takes her much too long to grapple with the fact that there’s a knife sticking out of her, she’s too busy trying to find a gap in this fucked up persona that’s taken over Raelle’s body.

She wishes her tormentor didn’t have her Raelle’s eyes.

She wishes a lot of things, now that she’s not even afforded a real meal.

She wishes she could have her mom’s chicken noodle soup one last time.

She wishes this Raelle wouldn’t bind her hands so fucking tight.

But what the fuck does any of it matter when she can barely open one of her eyes and the other one can’t stay open for longer than a minute at a time?

She fights back at first, making snide remarks and off-color jokes until Raelle hits her hard enough to knock her out.

Rinse and repeat, the same cycle until Scylla’s too dizzy to keep her head up and is chuckling mindlessly at the birds flying around in her vision.

Scylla’s never been this tired in her entire fucking life and she’s been on the run since she was born.

At some point, she wonders why she’s even trying to stay alive. She’s run for so long, fought for so long. And for what? She has no family, no cause to fight for, not even a single person that’s noticed her absence and cared.

But she does admit to herself that should this be her end, at least it’s in the hands of the woman she loves. The woman she betrayed and left to become… this.

She figures it’s a fair trade, as Raelle brings her fist down hard against her cheek. She’s hitting hard enough bruise her own knuckles and Scylla thinks passingly that she’d still very much like to bring said knuckles up to her lips and kiss them until they’re okay again.

It’s probably the delirium from lack of sleep and blood loss, really.

And nothing at all with how Scylla’s been imagining where she’d be right now if she had just taken Raelle and ran all those months ago.

Unconsciousness seems unavoidable now, but Raelle forcefully pulls Scylla’s gaze to her own again, physically tugging Scylla away from her daydream of dancing in a kitchen with Raelle.

“Tell me what you know.” She doesn’t even sound like she’s upset with the fact that Scylla’s two seconds away from dying.

It hurts to laugh, but Scylla breathes a small chuckle anyway. “I love you.”

The look she gets in return from Raelle is so full of blind rage, confusion, and annoyance that Scylla almost feels shamed.

Because she doesn’t deserve to hear it back. Because Raelle’s only in this situation because of her. Because her parents gave their lives for hers and all she’s done with it is ruin the life of the only person she’d ever wanted to save.

“It’s okay,” Scylla says more to herself than to Raelle, who’s just watching her, “you don’t have to say it back.”

She’s fading fast. Part of her wishes that her last breath could be of the sea air, that she could be laying in the sand. But she is looking at Raelle, and that’s more than she thought she’d get when she still believed she was being shipped off to prison.

It’s not a bad way to die at all.

So she takes a final, shaky breath, trying to drink in air that her lungs don’t seem to care for, and smiles at Raelle, “I chose you and I don’t regret it.”

The last thing she sees is a wince of pain and horror trigger on Raelle face as she brings a hand up to the back of her head. Then the door to her cell bursts open, letting in a stream of light and loud commotion as everything fades to black.

#raylla #jenn writes #a couple of notes here: #no i don't think willa would actually be this evil #it's just fun to have a Villain #i don't like writing raelle hurting scylla like this can you tell #NEXT INSTALLMENT LAST ONE and also the only reason i started this drabble bulletfic anyway #okey byeeee #brainwashed au