#in order to dissuade people from getting close enough to him to hurt him

[lupunsus]

another hybrid au brainrot but with Pantalone

hybrid au based on the writings of @cinnamonest

gn Akita Inu hybrid reader, bad writing 😔

I think that Pantalone would definitely have a hybrid whose main purpose is to stand next to him and look pretty. Like a trophy spouse/wife/husband or something along that path.

Of course, with how rich he is, it would be easy to acquire the most expensive hybrid on the market. But where's the fun in buying goods that's already trained? And of course, there could possibly be an issue where being treated so highly because of how valuable one is can lead to issues with dealing with bratty behavior. So, in this timeline, Pantalone acquires a hybrid without spending money.

It's been stated that bear traps are illegal, but who's to say that they weren't modified to be less dangerous? Some people still have issues with actual wild animals getting too close to their property, so if the trap isn't strong enough to cut off a foot, it should be ok, right? Just enough for the animal to be dissuaded, but still walk it off! So it should be fine. There's also the bear traps that were set up way before it was declared illegal and lost due to the weather and nature, so both parties could get hurt. Plus, nobody remembers if they set traps too far from their house, so traps that are set off in a distance to where no house or property is close avoids having to take responsibility and aren't held accountable.

And with snow being able to pile up continuously, it's not long before someone unknowingly steps in it. It's one of the main reasons why Pantalone sticks to paved roads. The other reason is not to dirty his shoes.

So when he's out appreciating one of his many gardens, it doesn't concern him when he hears a scream off in the distance, thinking someone caught themselves in one of the forgotten traps. It isn't until he hears a cry that's between a whine and a howl that he decides to investigate the poor creature that stumbled upon the trap.

He thinks it's adorable how you growl at him while the trap makes itself at home on your leg, even more so when you drop the tough act and whine pathetically for the help of a human.

Now, as an akita inu, formerly living life on its own and fending for themselves, well, history explains itself when his servants are ordered to run a bath. Of course, he removes the trap before bringing you to his abode to show that only he can make bad things go away and even bandages you up to boot. Since it's him, you manage it. But with his servants, it's all struggles and biting. It's fun to listen to their concerns, but he promises a hefty pay to whoever successfully manages to bathe you.

You, who's sitting naked in the middle of a washroom, next to the tub. It would be an adorable sight if your fluffy tail were wagging accompanied by the classic lopsided smile that dogs normally have, but unfortunately, your ears are pinned back and tail swishing dangerously as you bared your teeth to the onlookers and made it very clear that no, you will not be touched by anyone except the person that made your leg feel better.

The competitive atmosphere disappears completely, and everyone huddles together on how to split the money between them. At first, they let a servant with a hydro vision attempt to rinse you off, but alas, they were only compensated for almost losing a hand. Well, at least it was something, but now you have a faint idea as to what people with visions can do.

Well, in your line of sight, you didn't see the vision itself, but it wasn't hard to pick up that some people could spray water on you.

It was impossible to even coax you to eat a treat (that would put you to sleep) as you could smell something was off, and you didn't trust them. "Why couldn't our master bring in a trained animal?" Was what everyone was collectively thinking as they watched you wander around the room, pawing at different things and knocking them over. Some of those things were expensive and hard to obtain, which prompted an unfortunate soul to tell Pantalone that the task he assigned couldn't be done, and there was some collateral damage that would probably affect the surplus of funds he had already.

Of course, having as much money to spare (he funds Dottore's experiments, obviously losing a couple of gold bars and diamonds won't affect him), he orders everyone out of his washroom and takes a look at the mess you made. Training you will be a bit hard, but oh, will it be so rewarding. I like to think that Pantalone has an eye for rare things, so even if you're dirty with mangy fur and looking like some kind of lower breed, he just knows you're worth millions just by appearances alone.

Luckily for him, he saved you from someone who carelessly left out a bear trap, so questions about the legality of obtaining you will be stomped out and replaced with praises of how benevolent and generous he is to have rescued you.

Anyway, he bathes you in 20 minutes.

Of course, not trusting him completely, you growl and snap at him when he touches sensitive areas, and he actually avoids them. But he'll remember for later, when you come to a point where you're eating out of his hand. He decides to let a professional groomer take care of your fur, allowing someone else to muzzle you when you start biting again.

It would seem like he ordered them to do it, but since he comes back with gifts and a worried expression when seeing you all muzzled and tied so you wouldn't scratch or bite anyone, and gently removing them from you, it only strengthens the belief that he is the only one you can trust and be loyal to. After all, he saved you and takes better care of you than anyone else, so he's obviously a good person.

But not good enough to trust with food.

It isn't like he would poison you, but after being used to living in the wild and hunting for yourself for so long, it's hard to accept things that are just offered to you. Especially when handed to you by those suspicious servants. They've been looking your way and pointing a finger, even huffing and moving their mouths to produce weird, low barking sounds. Pantalone teaches you common phrases at first. Basic commands given to dogs, but you wouldn't think they're commands since he always has his eyes closed and mouth all weird when doing it.

Eyes being closed around someone indicates trust, but you don't know any animal that makes a weird curve with their mouth.

But it's easy to repeat small, simple words, and often, you're given a treat for saying the name he gives you, and whenever you call him Master. After a while, he only started to give treats when you'd say "[Name] eat" or "[Name] sleep." Short phrases but positive reinforcement when it comes to speaking works wonders.

It's only when you say a word he hasn't used towards you (because you're such a good dog to him!) that he looks disappointed. And it's scary.

"[Name] is bad?" Paired with droopy ears and an innocent and confused gaze, Pantalone wanted to ask why you'd think of such a ridiculous thing, but hybrids only pick up things said around them. And he's never uttered that sentence even after you almost attacked that lamb Scaramouche adores. It was that puppet's fault for letting such a thing wander around to deliver items for him.

"No, [Name] is good." Along with what you learned was a way to express good feelings (smiling) and ear rubs, you cuddled up to his leg, tail wagging like crazy.

For the servants who have loose lips, they had the choice to end their life or live in debt for 3 generations.

When Pantalone has you wrapped around his finger just the way he likes it, it doesn't take long for him to start training you in how to behave around people. At first, he didn't really mind how overprotective you were when it came to his co-workers' hybrids, but because of his image, he has to at least make sure you behave appropriately for any and all events he must attend.

He's rich, but due to your previous wild nature, he opts to train you with the disposable oversized t-shirts first. If you thought the collar was uncomfortable, the clothes were definitely worse. At least the collar had a soft material on its inside so it wouldn't hurt after wearing it, but the shirt felt suffocating and weird. Weird enough to flop over with a vacant expression and remain that way for a good 5 minutes. Treats were given if the shirt wasn't ruined and you didn't make an attempt to bite at it, but it was still hard to resist the urge.

But the treats were delicious, so you supposed it wouldn't hurt to suffer for a little bit.

But then you saw how that bear hybrid wears jack shit and became really pouty. "[Name] want freedom! Nothing on me!" Ah, how disappointing then. If that's what you want so badly, then Pantalone doesn't mind giving it to you. Of course, this means no more roaming around when he has guests over, staying home when he has to go out, and, of course, not being able to leave the mansion without your collar.

It's okay though! He respects your wishes, and these rules go into effect immediately. Part of him wishes that you'd be more obedient and let him dress you up prettily, but another part is amused and wants to see how long it'll take before you're begging for him to clothe you.

To me, because of how he was born into poverty and became the richest person we know of today, I think Pantalone would have no issue training a wild hybrid into an obedient servant who's loyal and willing to die for their masters. Fortunately for him, akita inus are said to be loyal hunting dogs who do just that.

#genshin hcs #genshin x reader #genshin x gn reader #pantalone #pantalone x reader #.lurots #hybrid au #genshin au

[trickstarbrave]

"brave why are you writing fanfiction about a fanfiction again" shhhhhhhh stop asking questions

anyways. heres something i wrote for @wellthebardsdead's fic "fool's prayer"

i just. wanted to write nerevar giving in. and some smut that i know would follow it i dont actually know okay i'm making this up bc i think evil!voryn is hot

--

Nerevar knew he was in a dream again. He’d learned by now to pick up on the signs; the fuzzy feeling around the edges of his consciousness, and how the sensations of hot and cold seemed to come at random, sending shivers down his spine. 

He stood up, walking to the front of his desk, sighing. Political documents that were laid out were still legible. Had Voryn been able to use his dreams to spy on the political state of Morrowind? He wouldn’t be surprised if he could. 

As if on cue, he felt a presence behind him, a hand around his waist. 

“You’re getting better at knowing when I’ll come to you.” Voryn whispered softly in his ear. “Did you give any thought to my offer…?” His voice was still honey sweet; thick, syrupy, and oh so temptingly tender. It was a romantic tone of voice Nerevar was very familiar with. How many times has Voryn used that tone in the past to coax him to rest for the night when he was up late overworking himself? How many times did he use that tone when holding him close after making love to him? It couldn’t help but tug on his heartstrings. 

Nerevar was a strong person up until a point. He could be a ruthless warlord, a cold blooded killer, but in the end his heart always started to win. He could only keep up the act forever. Back in the days of Resdayn he had a clear goal: unite the houses and drive out the Nordic Empire. Now though? Everything in Morrowind only got more complicated. The Red Year caused untold devastation, displacing large swaths of the population. It also exacerbated the infighting between houses; House Hlaalu was no longer even a Great House, and that had waves that rippled through the political landscape. No matter how much Nerevar tried to help and make things better because he loved Morrowind, there kept being set backs and road blocks.

He was tired. He was tired, lonely, overworked, and exhausted. He had Vivec now, which brought some comfort, but it wasn’t really enough. Nerevar would never tell Vivec that--he knew it would only break Vivec’s heart--but Vivec was also tired and exhausted. He couldn’t do the work of multiple people. He couldn’t replace every relationship Nerevar had before. 

And he couldn’t replace Voryn. The man Nerevar loved for so many years. The man who had his heart, regardless of how terrible that fact was. He had already spent so long running from him, already filled with guilt about having to kill Dagoth Ur and never getting to see him again, and he was so… Tired of it. 

Was Voryn bad? Yes. Nerevar couldn’t excuse his actions. He just couldn’t. 

But the more he thought about it, the less that fact dissuaded him. 

Already the world was filled with horrible people who wanted to do others harm. Already Morrowind was crawling with corrupt politicians, big and small, who wanted to hurt others for their own benefit. Nerevar already had to make peace with coexisting with them and trying to compromise with them. Really, what was so different about Voryn?

Voryn was more powerful and thus potentially more dangerous, yes. Voryn had hurt the Good Three, also yes. But Voryn hadn’t hurt Nerevar, no matter how much Nerevar rejected him. Voryn had chained the Good Three to the heart because they hurt the people of Morrowind, the people they were sworn to protect. They did not intervene with Baar Dau to save innocents. They did not stop the Red Year. They did not give him strength or allow him to eradicate the people who were corrupt. 

Instead they had him betrayed and killed, before demanding he do their bidding once more upon reincarnation. They ordered Vivec to kill and betray him, and then condemned him for doing so. As much as Nerevar loved them and dedicated himself to them, perhaps… They weren’t what was best for Morrowind. They were petty, jealous, and didn’t care for mortal life. They would use people and toss them aside like they no doubt would with Nerevar as well when he was no longer useful. 

The Good Three also preached this was the way of the world; to be selfish, to betray, to climb over others for your own sake, to kill your enemies before they killed you. In that way, wasn’t this following their teachings…? They were no longer useful to the Dunmer as they were. Voryn could be of much more use, and guarantee Nerevar and Vivec’s safety. 

Or maybe he was just delusional. Nerevar didn’t care either way anymore. 

He turned to face Voryn, hand on Voryn’s chest as the other, taller mer caged him against his desk. His heart was already racing looking at the familiar, handsome face he’d come to love. 

“... I’ve considered what you said.” Nerevar admitted, eyes closed. Part of him still wanted to deny Voryn; a nagging part of him continued to gnaw on his psyche, making him feel guilty for even considering it, but he could no longer rationalize that feeling. 

“And your response…?” 

Nerevar hesitated again, eyes still closed, his breath accelerating. Gods did he want it. He wanted to be able to rest in his beloved’s arms once again. He wanted to feel loved and cherished once more. He wanted all of the things he had denied himself for years: comfort, security, love, and even a family. 

Instead, he grabbed Voryn by the collar of his robes, tugging him closer. Voryn’s lips were dangerously close to Nerevar’s, as his eyes peaked open. He stared back into blood red, almost challenging in his gaze. Voryn seemed pleased though, smirking softly. 

“Convince me.” Nerevar whispered, his breath brushing against Voryn’s lips.

Voryn didn’t need to be told twice; he knew immediately what Nerevar was asking for. His lips crashed into Nerevar’s, both warm and desperate at once. His tongue dove in next, gliding against Nerevar’s, and every swipe of his tongue and lips had his head spinning. 

“Mm…” Nerevar moaned softly into the kiss, wrapping his arms around Voryn. He knew it was wrong, but it felt right. It felt so very right, just being able to close his eyes and focus on feeling good. 

Voryn didn’t stop there though, instead running a hand up Nerevar’s shirt, sliding his palm up Nerevar’s torso until he could coax a shiver out of him.

“I’ll take such good care of you, Neht.” Voryn broke the kiss to whisper against his lips. “I’ll make love to you day and night, make sure you’re feeling nothing but bliss.” 

“Voryn~” Nerevar moaned again, a bit louder. He had to brace himself on the desk with his hands as Voryn lifted one of his legs to hook it around his waist, pressing himself even closer to Nerevar. Nerevar could already feel how hard he was, and his desire only seemed to grow. 

“Can you feel how badly I want you, Neht?” Voryn whispered into his ear now, the warm breath making it twitch. “I’ve been wanting to be inside you since I came back. I’ve missed being able to hold you in my arms and make love to you…” Oh gods did Nerevar miss that as well. His bed always felt a bit colder when he remembered Voryn and how often Voryn would climb into his bed, even if not for sex but instead just to hold him all night. 

“I missed you too…” Nerevar confessed, letting his head fall to the side and Voryn to kiss and nibble his way up and down Nerevar’s neck. “I’ve missed this…”

“I want to give you everything, Neht.” Voryn whispered again, his hands going to unlace Nerevar’s trousers. “Everything you could possibly desire. A wonderful country, a perfect family, and as much love as I could ever dream of giving you.”

“Mm… Wait,” Nerevar stopped him briefly, and Voryn pulled away to look at him, a hint of disappointment in his eyes. “Not here… I want…” Nerevar still held onto Voryn tightly. “I want it on my bed.” At that, Voryn’s smile spread wider, a dark, seductive look in his eyes.

The next moment, Nerevar found his back against the sheets. It wasn’t quite his bed in the temple, but more so based on his old bedroom in the palace. Luxurious sheets were under him, silk sliding against his skin and equally luxurious pillows around them. 

“You’re right,” Voryn replied, his eyes crinkling with delight, “I should take you on your bed properly.” With that, Voryn’s lips found his again, pulling him into another kiss that left him dizzy with desire as Voryn quickly stripped him. Given it was a dream, Voryn could have simply removed his clothes in an instant, but Nerevar was thankful he didn’t. He liked the build up of Voryn stripping him, caressing his body as he went. His hands slid down Nerevar’s thighs as he pulled his pants and underwear down, almost teasing strokes as he discarded the fabric. Nerevar’s shirt was already pulled up to expose his torso, but Voryn made quick work of pulling it over his head and tossing it to the floor, even if it meant breaking the kiss momentarily. 

“Gods, you’re beautiful…” Voryn whispered, taking in the sight of Nerevar under him, and Nerevar couldn’t help but shiver. “The most handsome mer I have ever laid eyes on…” Voryn had barely touched him and Nerevar was already panting, shyly shifting on the silk sheets. “Even my memory failed to capture just how gorgeous you are, Neht.” He continued whispering, his hands now caressing at his chest. He traced at the scars first: one under each pectoral muscle, then up to the middle of his chest, tracing the jagged scar that remained from Vivec’s spear piercing him. 

“I’ll memorize you all over again.” Voryn whispered like it was a promise, moving down to kiss at the jagged scar first. “I’ll memorize every inch of your body, Neht…” His lips then trailed over to a nipple, swirling his tongue around the bud.

“H-hah…” Nerevar groaned, “Voryn~”

“Your chest is still sensitive I see.” Voryn smiled against his skin, before giving it a nip, watching Nerevar jolt and whine under him. “Your reactions are so cute… Endearing, even.”

“Voryn…” Only Voryn would dare to call him cute. He was hortator in two lifetimes now, slayer of gods, King of Morrowind, and Voryn still called him ‘cute’ and ‘beautiful’. 

“I always wanted you to be my consort, you know.” Voryn admitted. “I didn’t push for it; I knew in your heart you’d always wanted to be king so you could help our kin.” Nerevar groaned as Voryn continued toying with his chest, rubbing his thumbs against both nipples, occasionally pinching them to get a whine out of him. “You cared so deeply about everyone to the point I felt selfish for wanting you all to myself.”

“And yet…” Voryn continued, his eyes falling half shut. “Watching you run yourself ragged as king only made me regret that.” Voryn leaned in to kiss him quickly, not nearly enough for Nerevar who whined again in protest. “Especially now, watching all of them take your kindness and compassion for granted…”

“That’s--”

“Not the common folk.” Voryn cut him off. “They know you care deeply for them…” His hands slid down Nerevar’s stomach now, tracing down his muscular body, until his hands settled on Nerevar’s hips. “When the corrupt house leaders dare to let them know.” 

Nerevar knew it was true; for all the good he tried doing, they continued to block him. He couldn’t just kill them either--the Great Houses would kick up a fuss over it, demanding compensation or even accusing Nerevar of being their enemy. And then they would just put yet another corrupt bastard in that place, continuing to stop him from actually helping people. His attempts at charity were often blocked, and even if they were allowed, not nearly enough, but they refused to listen to his pleas that their people needed this. 

“I’ll make sure they know just how much you cherish them, Neht.” Voryn smiled. “No one will dare speak ill of you, or the love you have of this country. Not when I’m here.” Nerevar didn’t want to think about how he’d do that. Maybe Voryn would just use brute force. Maybe he had even more terrifying abilities to force them to bend to his will. Nerevar didn’t know, and he simply didn’t want to think about it. All he wanted was to close his eyes and let Voryn take care of it. 

“Ah…” Nerevar moaned softly as one of his hands moved downward, sliding up his inner thighs. 

“Oh,” Voryn sounded breathless as his fingers began to just ever so slightly tease at him, “So wet for me already, are you?”

“Voryn,” Nerevar gasped, spreading his legs a bit wider. 

“I thought Vivec was tending to you?” Voryn asked softly, two fingers slipping inside of Nerevar with ease. Nerevar groaned at the sensation, rocking his hips against Voryn’s hand. 

“H-he’s…”

“Ah, right, it’s not his duty to tend to your needs, as you’ve told him so many times.” Nerevar knew Vivec wanted it to be his duty; he felt obligated to do so, day in and day out, but Nerevar only felt guilty about it. He saved Vivec, and it felt like Vivec thought he owed Nerevar, using his body like it was the only thing he knew how to; as though his body was the only thing he was really good for. It made Nerevar feel awful and like he was taking advantage of Vivec, as much as he cared for him and wanted him in return. 

“... But someone should have been taking care of you in my absence, Neht.” Voryn worked his fingers a bit deeper, before curling them upwards to stroke at the bundle of nerves that left him gasping and moaning in pleasure. “Someone should have been tending to their loyal, devoted hortator and making sure he was well taken care of…” Nerevar’s leg twitched, his cunt tightening around the fingers inside him. “Making sure all of his needs were met…” 

“More~” Nerevar moaned deeply. “Please, faster, faster, Voryn~” Voryn’s fingers sped up just as Nerevar asked, thrusting in and out of him in the perfect way only Voryn could manage. 

“You’re so pent up right now.” Voryn was smirking now. “Did no one want to touch you like this? I hardly believe that, not when you’re this perfect…” Nerevar could feel his climax approaching now, his hands gripping the sheets under him tightly. “Or were you staying loyal to me?” 

Nerevar moaned louder at that, squirming more under Voryn’s gaze. “Voryn~!” There were people who wanted to, yes. Plenty of people wanted to crawl into his bed in an effort to use sex to control him, but Nerevar never wanted that. Nerevar only wanted this with people he knew he could trust. But part of him also just missed Voryn terribly, unable to find any pleasure if it wasn’t to the thought of his beloved. Not even masturbation was fulfilling--not when he was so painfully lonely and stressed out. 

“I could feel you tightening up from that.” Voryn was smirking again, and Nerevar didn’t have to look to know it. “At least your body is honest like this.” Nerevar resented how honest his body truly was; how every inch of him craved Voryn’s touch, screaming out for it. “You need me, don’t you?” Voryn asked, his voice so tempting once more. “Admit it, Neht.”

“I…” Nerevar began, panting. He was afraid if he didn’t, this pleasure would stop. “I need you~” Nerevar pleaded, “Please, please get inside me~” He was grinding his hips down at every thrust; it was good, but he wanted more.

“Shh…” Voryn soothed him, his other hand sliding down to rub and stroke at Nerevar’s cock, making him moan even louder, his eyes rolling back. “Not yet, Nerevar.”

“Please~!” Nerevar could have screamed. “Please, anything, I’ll do anything--”

“I know you will.” Voryn replied, cutting him off. “Which is why I’ll let you cum right now,” Another whine ripped from Nerevar’s throat, “But I don’t want to make love to you like this, Neht.” Nerevar could feel himself getting closer and closer to the edge. “As much as I would love to watch you fall to pieces under me right now…” Nerevar could see Voryn’s cock straining in his robes, his mouth watering at the sight. “I want to make love to you properly, in the flesh.” 

“Fuck~” Yes, Nerevar knew he was almost there. He just needed a little more; Voryn knew him too well for him to last like this. 

“I’ll make you feel even better, Neht.” Nerevar could feel pleasure shooting up and down his spine as though it was intensifying. In his hazy thoughts, he imagined it must have been Voryn doing this in his dream to make him feel even better. “Just come to me, and I’ll make you feel so good…” He moved down now, whispering in his ear. “When I cum inside you over and over, making sure you’re heavy with my heir~” 

Nerevar couldn’t help but climax at that. The pleasure was intense--all encompassing--as he came long and hard, moaning the whole while. His body trembled with every intense wave of ecstasy, completely lost in the fantasy.

Once the pleasure died down, after Voryn helped Nerevar ride the waves of his orgasm, he removed his fingers, now gently caressing his cheek with the back of one hand. 

“Was that convincing enough for you, Neht?” Voryn asked, Nerevar still panting. 

It was Nerevar’s last chance to refuse. He knew it. He could shove Voryn away and say this was all a mistake, but that would mean denying even further pleasure. It would mean never getting to enjoy that feeling again, and after so long his body needed that kind of pleasure and care. 

“... Yes.” Nerevar confessed, his voice barely a whisper. Silently, he apologized to Azura in his heart; the Lady of Twilight picked the wrong champion this time around, it seemed. Nerevar was far too weak to resist this temptation though--far too tired after being beaten down by the people he was trying to help time and time again. “Yes I…” He swallowed, licking his lips nervously. “I’ll come to you, Voryn.” 

Voryn’s smirk was absolutely devilish and dark hearing that, chuckling at the answer given. Nerevar shivered again, wondering if he made the right choice, before Voryn kissed him long and slow, making every worry vanish from Nerevar’s head so thoroughly he forgot he had them entirely. 

“Good boy.” Voryn praised him once he pulled away, his eyes warm with delight. “You gave me so much trouble but… I know you were just worried about everything.” Nerevar shut his eyes, enjoying the reassurance. “You always overthink everything, even to your detriment… But I love even that cautious side of you, you know.” Nerevar liked the way it eased his guilt, a balm on his heart for giving in to such a being. “I knew that it wasn’t your fault you doubted me. I knew in time you’d listen to me.” 

With one last, lingering kiss, the scene around them faded at the edges. “I’ll tell you where to find me soon, Neht.” Voryn whispered against his lips. “Just wait for me, my moon and star.” 

Nerevar’s eyes fluttered open once more, looking at his ceiling. Birds chirped outside, and Vivec was sound asleep beside him, curled up in the fetal position, deeply slumbering still. 

He closed his eyes again, giving a shaky sigh, covering his own face.

“Azura… Forgive me.” 

#nerevoryn #indoril nerevar #nerevar #voryn dagoth #my writing #idk if nerevar is trans in fools prayer. but he is in this #idk i just decided it. so voryn can knock his consort up #yknow how it is.

[mars-ipan]

oogh when i have the energy to do big character analyses for a bunch of danganronpa characters then you’ll see. you’ll all see

#what you'll see is my interpretations of characters i like :) #don't mind me. just thinking abt how i interpret kokichi as someone who does truly care but hides it behind a wall of nastiness #in order to dissuade people from getting close enough to him to hurt him #or worse- be ripped away from him #nagito's a similar way but the self-loathing is more front and center

[cinnamonest]

Kaeya Alberich - Yandere Profile

YES I love my eyepatch boy!! I really like him as a yandere, because he's definitely got several traits and behaviors that would make him a very unconventional/different yet absolutely terrifying one to have. Him or Diluc as your yandere is basically like playing a game on maximum difficulty. He's so arrogant dammit why does he have to make it hot

More importantly, someone take the ability to write n/sfw away from me I s2g... I go from trying to make serious content to nasty weird kinks and completely feral in .002 seconds the moment I add that readmore

tws: gaslighting, manipulation, yandere, mentions of mutilation

tws (below cut): noncon, a good deal of sadism, mentions of an*l

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

What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's actually one of the worst yanderes you could have in almost every regard, for two very simple reasons: his crippling psychological issues, and his intense selfishness. The first manifests as severe abandonment issues. It's the origin of his unhealthy feelings, most likely. Kaeya doesn't like the instability of people - based on his backstory, people always leave, or die, and even if they don't intend to, somehow it feels like abandonment, and he resents it. People leave him all alone and afraid and uncertain. That's generally all he knows, and despite the smug exterior, he's actually pushed people away quite a bit, keeps everyone at arm's length to ensure they can't become someone too important for him to accept their sudden absence. He can't care about someone, because that someone is fated to inevitably leave him, no matter who it may be.

That's why, once you manage to worm your way into his feelings and heart despite his best efforts, once he finally caves to acknowledging the feeling, he's aware. Painfully aware, because be can't stop worrying every waking moment about you, your well-being, your location. It reaches a point where he can't go about his job because he's simply too consumed with his worry.

The solution that kept him safest in the past was to avoid developing emotional attachments, but when he does, he's terrified of both your safety AND you intentionally abandoning him. Really, the latter would hurt worse, since he can't fault you for dying, but to abandon him? It would break him.

And, to some extent, he's developed a lot of  prideful anger about it, deep, deep down. He feels that he doesn't deserve to be abandoned, doesn't deserve to just be left behind under the guise of some greater purpose, and he'll be damned if he just lets you toss him aside like he feels others did. Even if you reject him, he won't accept it. You don't get to reject him. He won't allow that. What has he ever done to deserve everything that's happened to him? Nothing. You're the one person who has stayed with him, and you're going to continue to be with him. Forever.

That being said, he's still somewhat confident because he's got that arrogance about him. He doesn't perceive rejection, because he's always gotten a lot of attention for his looks, even if he's never actually followed through on anyone else's attention out of those same fears. He'll write off any perceived rejection as being for some other reason, something besides an actual rejection, and he'll seek to eliminate whatever he feels is keeping you from just accepting him.

Honestly, one of the most likely to have a full blown, classic-yandere-style psychotic breakdown. He can be driven to a snapping point, if there's enough stress or obstacles, and in case of that, he'll be a lot more willing to kill, and a lot more willing to hurt you, but it's a point that would still take a lot to reach.

But what's really terrifying about Kaeya is his delusions, primarily his ability to mentally justify everything he does without hesitation. Even most delusional yanderes struggle - they feel like it's wrong, they know it is deep down, and they take time to convince themselves of their delusions, tell themselves it's ok over and over, beg for reassurance, and get defensive when called out because they know they're in the wrong. The same isn't true for Kaeya. He automatically justifies his actions by default, and has absolutely zero doubt or hesitation to do so. He doesn't even need a complex reason for justification - it's a simple one. He deserves what he wants. Anything necessary to achieve that is fair.

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Highly likely and very quickly, right up there with Diluc and Razor. And he's absolutely remorseless about it. It ties back into his delusional state and ability to justify anything he does - this is what's best for you. If you don't get that, that's your problem, not his.

He's another one to not want to pull some barbaric move like knocking you out, rather, he'd rather just trick you into walking right into your new home. He gets that you'll be upset about it, but to him, that's just part of the process. Not that he'll tolerate it for too long. 12, maybe 24 hours is enough time for you to reasonably be upset, but if you're still trying to fight him on this after that, he's going to get snappy about it, thinking you should already be over that by now.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape? 

You're not leaving.

It's not worth trying, really. How he manages to do it is a mystery to you, but he'll manage to keep you locked in right there at the headquarters with him. How Jean and Lisa haven't found out about you being there, how he convinced all of his guards to be on his side of things, you have no idea. Realistically, if you get out, he's likely to make you out to be some kind of criminal that needs to be found -- just not to hurt you in any way, so goes the order, and the knights know better than to question why.

He has eyes and ears everywhere, it won't take them anytime at all to find you. He's so confident in that, and combined with his pride, he doesn't feel the need to go get you himself. No, it's a lot more satisfying to sit back and watch as they drag you through the doors of the headquarters, slowly pull you to the end of the room and drop you down at his feet, where he can look down on you with that closed-eyed, artificially wide smile that tells you that you have seriously fucked up.

Escape attempts aren't going to be met with a single shred of mercy, really. The thing about Kaeya is he's ultimately a selfish, selfish bastard with a lot of deep-seeded, highly repressed emotional issues, and he has absolutely no problem with keeping you bound hand and foot, or maybe even make some permanent modifications to your body if that's what it takes to keep you. It's not a wise idea to even try unless you're absolutely certain to succeed, otherwise you may find yourself never getting the opportunity again. You don't really need those Achilles tendons intact, you know. And your ankle bones are just so fragile, they'll snap with just a little twist. Actually, that wouldn't be too bad, giving you more reasons to be grateful when he's doing everything for you.

He's not one to just let it go, either. No, escape attempts are the one unforgivable thing for him, the one thing that will make him totally and completely snap. You don't get to do that. You're the one thing that doesn't get to just disappear out of his life in a flash. Half the reason he sends the knights to get you rather than going himself is to give him some time to let the rage settle down, otherwise he knows he might not be able to control himself and might end up hurting you even worse than he intends to. He's not going to buy any excuses and won't go any lighter on you if you beg and grovel or anything. But you will apologize -- you get to choose how hard it is. You can apologize the easy way, or, if you don't want to, there are many ways to force it out. But by the end, he'll get an apology, and a promise to never try again, out of you, no matter what that takes. It's by far the worst state you'll ever see him in, and really, once is enough to dissuade you from trying again.

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

You'd have to try pretty hard. He doesn't have the sheer amount of years of life experience like Venti or Zhongli, but he's not the captain for no reason - he's perceptive, and highly intelligent.

Rather than simply mastering reading human voice and facial expressions for telltale signs of deceit, he's good at learning individuals in particular - memorizing the patterns of thought and action of a particular individual, and predicting how they will act. He can do it with everyone else with ease, how much more, then, with the object of an obsession? If you're trying to formulate some plan to trick him, he'll already predict what you'll do, if you lie, he already knows. It's creepier than the others, really, because it's not just that he can tell when you're lying, but rather he already knows you're going to lie or try some scheme before you do it. It feels so tailored and personalized to your thought patterns, it almost feels like an invasion of the privacy of your mind, which, really, is the one privacy you thought you had left.

He's great at gaslighting himself, too. He's a very good liar, and can make you believe anything he wants. He'll target your fears and paranoias, make you believe you're going crazy, and he'll do it all so perfectly you'll never suspect a thing. You'll end up coming to him for protection and guidance, exactly as planned.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

Pretty strict. He doesn't let you have any outside contact, and you're limited on what you can do when he's gone. He'll bring you some books, maybe something to draw on -- no sharp writing utensils, though. In his mind, that should be enough to occupy you.

You won't get outside walks or visits. It's just too risky for him, and he really doesn't like seeing other people look at you. If you really, really beg, and you've been on amazing behavior, and you're well into your relationship, maybe a few months or so, there's a chance he'll take you out at nighttime, or sunrise, but at the slightest sign of intentions he doesn't like, you'll be dragged back, and you won't see the sun for a long time.

You'll have a very limited wardrobe, he doesn't see why you even need to wear anything, but if you're going to be stubborn, he can get you something simple, like an old shirt and some underwear, but that's about all you can have. Any requests for actual clothing are going to be denied. It's ridiculous for him to spend money on something you don't need, and besides, he prefers it this way, y'know?

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Generally, it's a simple one: obey. You do what he tells you to do, and you don't do something if he tells you not to. This stems to similar rules that develop: be submissive, don't be argumentative, don't be defiant. Follow those, and you can both be happy, and that's what you want, isn't it? It had better be - he's not very lenient, and will harshly punish even small offenses. As for that punishment... most of it isn't going to be sfw. That's just how he is.

What he will do is emotionally manipulate you, and he's rather good at it. You wanted to escape? Ok. He'll let you have your way, let you be alone. All alone. All by yourself, in a little room, with no one at all, which is exactly how you would have left him, had you succeeded. He knows very well how that kind of loneliness bites. He's not totally cruel, though, and he won't withhold affection from you by the time he returns -- he doesn't need to, you'll already be crying and apologizing, which is exactly what he hoped for. Not that he won't briefly mock you for it.

"If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're crying like that because you actually missed me. Oh, you did? Being all alone isn't particularly fun, now is it? I'm sure you understand that now."

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Kaeya's an insanely jealous person. It doesn't show on his face, but it eats at him internally. It doesn't matter if it's a love interest, a platonic friend, even a family member. It's all the same -- people who want to take your attention away from him, people who you smile at that aren't him, people you love that aren't him. He's not one to delude himself into thinking everyone secretly loves you romantically, rather, it doesn't matter. Romantic interests are the worst threat, sure, but friends and family aren't much better.

He sees himself as above killing, though. He has people to do that for him, and he likes knowing that he has that much power. He's not going to dirty his hands with it, and frankly, they're not even worthy of his time and effort to kill them. Knights and other connections can take care of it just as well.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

As somewhat previously discussed, the primary form of making him mad is attempting an escape. That's on a whole new level of anger because it strikes at a very deep, wounding insecurity. On a normal day, though, he's more easily exasperated than angry. He gets frustrated somewhat easily, especially if you're trying exceptionally hard to be a brat. He has very clear warning signs. His signature little smirk drops, he gets quiet, he balls his hands into fists and digs his fingernails into his palms. At that stage, he's irritable and might snap at you, but won't get too angry until you ignore those signs and push it.

If you do push him, though, he gets genuinely mad, which is a very quiet anger at first -- he doesn't talk much when he's mad. He acts. You'll know he's snapped when he puts down whatever he's doing, and just silently stomps over to you, face completely empty and flat, looking down at you with a cold expression. It's enough to put fear in you, but at that point, even if you apologize, you're not getting out of whatever he's planned.

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Strongly in the "below" camp, a rather unusual stance for a yandere. Like many things with him, there's an inexplicable duality going on there.  You would think that if you loved someone so strongly you'd kidnap them, kill for them, and potentially suffer consequences just to have them, that you would really think highly of them. On the flip side, you would think that if you really saw someone as lowly, you wouldn't care for them, you'd see them as disposable.

But neither is true for Kaeya, no, he balances both obsessive love and complete narcissism regarding you. You're not disposable, no, he can't live without you, he needs you. But at the same time, you're not gonna be on any kind of pedestal. No, if anything, he sees himself on one, more like a throne, and you on the floor before him, how things should be.

He has a similar mindset to Zhongli or Albedo - you're fragile, you're dumb, you're incapable, and you need someone to care for you, protect you, guide you, someone who knows what's best for you, since you clearly don't. However, he's lacking in the attitude those other two have -- there's no seeing you as an angel here. There's no viewing himself as being absolutely honored to take care of you, or viewing protecting and caring for you as some kind of privilege that they're blessed to do, the way those two do.

No, as much as he loves those things, he'll never admit it, not even to himself really. Rather, his mentality is that you should be grateful. Here he is, a very highly respected, accomplished, capable person, and you...? You have what to offer, exactly? That's right, nothing, really, only cuteness and obedience, the latter of which you refuse to give him even though you really ought to. He's taking on the burden of making sure you don't get yourself killed, and how do you repay him? By getting mad about it, throwing a fit like some little kid? He puts up with your tantrums, which are really undeserved, by the way. He puts up with your disobedience and repeated rule violations, your sheer determination to defy him when he's going out of his way to do what's best for you.

One day, he thinks, you'll mature a little bit and understand why he does what he does, and when you do, you'll come groveling and sniffling about how sorry you are, how you'll never defy him again, how you'll be good and obedient from now on, and he'll love every second of it. He looks forward to that day quite a bit.

"Sigh... you know, you're pretty lucky I love you so much. You could stand to show me a little thanks, don't you think?"

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's strongly determined, and yet... doesn't do much to try. It goes back to his mindset that really, you're the one who should be grateful for him, and eventually, you will love him. He's not gonna grovel to you or try different ways of making you love him, no, he's far too proud for that. But he's a smart man. He knows the effects that complete and total isolation other than one other person can have on someone. He's just going to sit back and wait for that effect to kick in, and slowly watch your fragile little mind deteriorate until you're desperate for affection. At which point, well, he can use it against you.

"You were so mean to me before, weren't you? You fought me every step of the way, and now you're just going to turn around and act like that didn't happen...? Well, if you're really sorry, I'll forgive you. But how am I supposed to believe you really are...? Maybe you can think of a way to prove it, hm?"

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Probably the severity of his degradation. As aforementioned, most yanderes, even the more confident or cocky individuals, either worship the ground their beloved walks on and sees themselves as beneath them, OR sees their darling as some sort of fragile, angelic being, and they are simply a protector or caretaker to that being.

It's a bit different with him, ever the narcissist. It's a strange duality born out of a rare mix of neediness, obsession, and pride. You're more like a toy, or a pet - an invaluable pet that he could never part with, but a pet nonetheless. He certainly looks down on you more than the average yandere - he mentally associates you as naive, fragile, even dumb like a lot of the aforementioned protector/caretaker types, but without the reverence to make up for it.

It's a bizarre duality that not even he fully understands - don't think for a moment that that means he'll ever tire of you, or view you as disposable. No, he's actually one of the most obsessive ones, yet very demanding of attention and praise, rather than giving it.

He frequently tests you - things like leaving the door unlocked, waiting outside just to see if you'll try it. Seeing you open that door, watching your face go from ecstatic excitement and drop to wide-eyed terror, it's priceless.

"My, my, you didn't waste any time at all, did you? Why do you look so surprised...? You should know I wouldn't slip up that badly."

Pet names, but in the most infuriatingly condescending way, and uses them more often when he's mad and trying to warn you that you're pushing his limits. Particularly fond of "sweetheart," especially with a low warning tone and clenched teeth.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

Horny fucker, all the way. The man has a lot of stress and frustration in his life already, that much more if you're... less than compliant with your new lifestyle. Sex, especially rough and hard, is a fantastic stress reliever.

Very little reservation. He's not crude about it, but he tends to make subtle innuendos very frequently, and laughs at your embarrassed reactions. Definitely the type to pull the whole shtick in which he says something with a blatant sexual undertone, then elaborates in a way to make it sound like having meant something else, follows with that smirk and says, "Why? What did you think I meant?" It's something he really enjoys doing, and loves to get embarrassed reactions out of people, particularly yourself.

"Touchy" doesn't begin to describe it. Pretty much from the moment you meet him, he's got his hands somewhere on your person. He grabs your shoulders when he stands behind you, he wraps an arm around you from the side when he walks up to you, he's always pressing his hands on your back and sides whenever you're navigating the streets, walking through doorways, wraps an arm around your waist when sitting next to you. It's highly uncomfortable, but really, he's just got something very subtly, but very strongly intimidating about him. You almost don't want to confront him on it. If you do, he'll laugh it off, and stop -- for maybe 48 hours or so, and then he'll be right back at it.

To the surprise of, well, everyone who's ever met him, he doesn't actually live up to the rumors of having been around the block, so to speak. His experience is actually little to none - that kinda happens when you push everyone around you away. Not that he'd ever let you know that, of course, and will probably lie if asked, but you can gleam a little bit of truth from slightly awkward movements and a bit of noticeable shakiness.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

Kind of like Razor, the issue is that he loves you, and what better way is there of expressing love? He's not much for gift-giving or words of affirmation - no, he's a lot better with words of degradation, it comes more naturally to him. And he's certainly not one to enjoy acts of service -- well, not doing them, he'll gladly take them as a sign of your love, though. No, he expresses love through touch. It's like how, when you hug someone you really love, someone you missed, you squeeze them extra tight - the love manifests as a physical urge for some strong expression. Humans are physical about their emotions -- we punch walls when we're mad, we jump up and down when we're happy, and when you love someone, sometimes you just really, really want to pound them into a mattress as hard as physically possible. That's normal. That, and really, he's got his vices. He's actually fairly weak when it comes to resisting temptations, and prone to give in to urges for physical sensations like drunkenness and sex.

Is another one to be convinced that, with time, you'll come around. And is absolutely the top candidate to be one for using your own body against you - if you get wet, if you whimper, if you cum, that's just proof that you really do want this, that you're just being difficult because you enjoy being a brat, and he'll be sure to tell you that.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

This is nearly indistinguishable from punishment, sadistic bastard

D/S dynamics

Arrogant fucker wants to be served and worshipped, you could see it coming from a mile away. Anything that puts you beneath him is going to make him happy - anything where you're where you're supposed to be. There's a lot of options, but it doesn't really matter, as long as he feels like he's in control and ownership of you in some way, and as long as you act accordingly.

He wants it to be something that’s not just for sex, but rather, he’ll end up carrying it over into normal life, whether you like it or not. If you just went along with it in hopes of getting it over with once he cums, you’re going to be in for a treat when it starts to carry over. He gets a little too used to being worshipped, and decides he likes that submissive attitude on you enough to want to see it all the time.

Petplay/Collaring

It really helps that he sees you as something of a pet already, but really, the collar is the selling point. Even if you never go outside, there's something unbearably hot about the possessiveness of it all - really, it's there to remind you of your status as property. He wants to own you, and for you to be forced to acknowledge that he owns you, and there's really no better way to do that than something with his name on it. It's even better with a leash, one he can pull on when he's fucking you to pull you back onto him over, and over, and over, hearing it choke you the more he shortens it.

But really, having you crawl towards him on all fours and obey little commands so simple they're humiliating is pretty nice, too.

Impact pain/painplay

There's really nothing quite so powerful feeling as watching you cry and squirm from it, y'know? He's another one that just likes the marks his hands, belts, or anything else can leave all over the skin of your ass and the back of your legs. The thing with him, though, is it's not even always a punishment, he just does it for fun, and that makes it unpredictable. Will definitely make you count, it's a sadistic torture for your mind and body.

Throatfucking

May be used as a punishment measure, may just be because he's craving it, either way, even if you have a gag reflex, you won't for very long. He'll train it out of you gradually, grabbing the back of your head and just slamming all the way down into your throat, holding you there, making you choke - it's a beautiful sound, really, listening to you gag, all while your throat spasms around him, it's the best feeling, really, and will definitely be used as a threat if you need incentives to behave.

Choking

Ties into the dynamics, but really, there’s not much to say on this one. He likes the power trip from having his hands wrapped around your throat, seeing you struggle, watching your face go red, hearing those little choking noises. It puts power over you into his hands, and if you get pleasure from it against your own will, that’s even better.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

Absolutely one of the ones to use it as a tool. If you have a baby, you'll be so much more bound to him. You'll need him more, you'll want him around more, you'll be much less likely to leave, and in a way it feels a little bit like a sign of ownership over you.

That being said, he's also acutely aware of his jealous tendencies, and realizes he would also be very likely to become jealous if he felt like you loved a baby more than him, or gave it more attention and affection than you do him. He doesn't like the thought.

So ultimately, the latter side prevents him from willingly trying, but if you really, really have defiance issues even after he's tried everything he can to break you help you adjust, he might consider it.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

If it's mild enough, he can just take the route of extremely rough fucking - it gets rid of the frustration, he likes hearing you whimper and squeal, and he can leave lots of little bruises as reminders of what not to do in the future.

But, again, he already gets off to putting you in pain - it'll be that much worse when you've done something to deserve it. Harder hits, no mercy whatsoever, and he just loves all your little cries, wiping away your tears and smiling at you, right before bringing down whatever instrument of pain he's chosen again. If you really, really make him mad, and he really wants to make you cry, he's not above fucking your ass, either, watching you cry and beg, but you'll learn with time that begging doesn't ever get you out of anything.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Definitely an ass man. Likes fucking you in doggy, seeing the ripple every time you bounce back off of him, pulling your hair or arms to add some force. He likes seeing all the little red marks that his hands and belts and anything else will leave on the skin, views it like marks of possession. Grabbing, beating, fucking, it's all good.

#Jesus take the wheel im too nasty for this #yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere kaeya #tw: dark content #tw: noncon #tw: non/con

[drarrily-we-row-along]

Day 90: 99 Days

"Oh, Draco!" Harry sing-songed as he slid into the other man's office. "Do you know what today is?"

"The 23rd of August, if I'm not mistaken," he drawled without looking up from the Ministry form.

Harry leaned on his desk, "And do you know why it's important?"

"I don't believe that I do," Draco replied casually, checking his notes before going back to the form.

"It's been-"

"99 days since May 14th," he said. "99 days is not what was agreed upon."

Harry groaned and plopped down in his chair, "Isn't it close enough?"

"No."

He grinned, "I thought you might say that."

Something in the tone of his voice made Draco look up at him, narrowing his eyes.

"So I booked us a reservation for breakfast tomorrow morning."

"You're awfully confident," he said, setting his quill down and gazing calculatingly at Harry.

He laughed, "There's less than a day left, I think I've got this." He stood up and took Draco's hand in his and pressed a light kiss to his knuckles, "I'll see you in the morning."

(Read more below the cut)

Harry was so excited that he hardly slept at all that night.

He spent the whole night tossing and turning, imagining different conversations and scenarios, debating what he should wear, deciding what he was going to eat for breakfast so that he would spill on himself, and a thousand other things.

By the time his alarm went off, he was more than ready to get out of bed. After getting ready and feeding his cat Leonard he headed out to the cafe he'd made reservations at for breakfast for two.

He was pleased to arrive first and ordered a cup of coffee for himself and a latte with a dash of cinnamon for Draco. The waitress returned with their drinks as Draco was entering.

Harry waved at him and stood up from his chair as Draco came over. "Hey," he breathed.

"Good morning," Draco said, a little smile at the corner of his mouth as though his just couldn't help himself.

"I ordered you a latte," Harry said.

"I can see that," Draco replied as he sat down.

Harry sat too, "I could order something else if you wo-"

"It's fine," Draco said quickly. "Good, actually. Exactly what I would have ordered for myself."

He nodded once and gave him a little smile as the waitress returned with menus. Harry took a deep breath and tried to make himself relax. Everything was going to be fine.

--------

Everything was not going fine. In fact, Harry felt rather certain that he'd never gone on a date that had gone this poorly and it made something in him ache.

As they left, Harry scrubbed his hand over the back of his head, "Look, Draco-"

"No," he said, interrupting, "I'm sorry."

"What?" Harry asked, drawing to a halt and looking over at him, "What for?"

He tucked a strand of fine blonde hair behind his ear, "I thought I could dissuade you from wanting to date me."

"I know but I'm fairly stubborn."

He huffed a laugh, "Yes, I hadn't imagined that you'd be stubborn enough to stay single for 100 days just to prove you were serious about me."

"Well I am," Harry said, "Serious about you."

"Which is why I have to tell you something."

He scuffed the toe of his trainer along the ground, "You're like betrothed or something aren't you?"

"What?"

"Or you're not gay."

"Harry-"

"Or you just don't like me and you know that you never-"

"Harry!" Draco shouted. "Shut up."

He clicked his jaw shut and stared in silence, waiting.

"There's a curse on my bloodline," he said.

"What?"

He sighed, "Can you come back to my flat? This isn't really a conversation I want to have in public."

"Yeah," Harry said, just glad that the other man wasn't telling him to sod off, "Yeah, of course."

Draco took his elbow and apparated him into his living room, "Can I get you anything?" he asked. "Water? A cup of tea?"

"Just answers," Harry said. "Tell be about the curse on your bloodline, what it has to do with our date, and how we can break it."

Draco sat down in one of the squishy arm chairs and Harry followed suit. "You remember that I was engaged to Astoria Greengrass?" he asked.

Harry nodded, biting his tongue to keep from asking what that had to do with anything.

"She was the match that my parents made for me. The curse on my bloodline is one that my ancestors put in place to stop people from backing out of arranged marriages," he said. "At the time it was important because marriages formed alliances and if a marriage fell through you might make yourself a new enemy."

"So what's the curse?"

"If you don't marry the person chosen for you by your parents you'll basically have what amounts to a thousand bad dates," Draco said.

"Sorry?"

"That's it," he said. "It's not going to actually hurt me, too many Malfoy's only have one heir, but it is going to make life miserable if I'm not with the person that my parents deemed acceptable."

Harry thought about this new information for a long moment, "Right, so how do we break it?"

"We can't."

"Okay," Harry said, nodding once to himself. "Well, let's get started then, if we have like three bad dates a day, we'll be done in like a year."

"You can't be serious."

He shrugged, "Of course I am. What's the alternative?"

"I don't know," he mutter sarcastically, "Maybe not dating someone with a curse on their bloodline. Maybe let me go on a thousand bad dates with other people."

"I don't want to," he said, shaking his head. "I don't want you to date other people."

"But-"

Harry shook his head, "No buts. I want to go on all of those dates with you. Do you know why?"

"No." Draco said, "I honestly have no idea."

"Because as long as it's with you, it doesn't matter." He cupped Draco's cheek in his hand, "You are what matters."

"Are you sure?" Draco asked, searching Harry's face.

"I've never been more sure of anything in my life."

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

Day 89: Food | Day 91: Touch Starved

#100 drarry drabbles in 100 days #drarry #drarry drabbles #drarry ficlet #fluff #starting a relationship #love #dating

[beigehearts]

Adult Trio with a drunk s/o (first time being drunk in front of them) I will be posting an uvo version after this!! CW: alcohol (duh)

Hisoka

[] the first time seeing you drunk okay>??!?

[] your slurred words are so cute to him 

[] while he would love nothing more than to rail you when you’re acting like this- he d o e s have morals when it comes to his s/o

[] he would baby you so much

You stumble towards the couch where Hisoka sits, holding a can in your hand. He watches as you barely make your way to him and can’t help but chuckle. Once you’re close enough to him, he grabs your by your hips, pulling you onto his lap and he holds you tightly. “Does that taste good y/n?” He asks with amusement. With a drunken smile you nod. He can’t take it- you looks so cute with your face flushed like this. You may have a hangover tomorrow but taking care of you for the day doesn’t sound half bad to him.  He kisses your cheek and lays his head on your shoulder, it’s practically a dream come true for him.

[] so like- he would kiss you and coo at you

[] and when it’s time for bed he will carry your, and tuck you in- then lay down on top of the covers next to you, watching you fall asleep

[] something so calm and sweet is rare for him

Illumi 

% Illumi is not exactly the most outgoing nor best with interaction

% seeing you laugh giddily while being alone with a bottle of alcohol is confusing

% he doesn’t understand how you could act this way after some alcohol (he’s trained so only an extreme amount could get him tipsy)

% he begins to worry more than anything

% though he supposes this is normal for an untrained body

He puts his hands in the air when you leap into his chest, smushing your face against him. “Illumi~ Oh Illumi!” You look up at him, “Why won’t you hug me?”  If you were sober you would be able to see the gears turning in his head. Hesitantly he wraps his arms around you, “Maybe you should go to bed.”  Hearing his words you let go of him and pout, “The night has just begun! Illumi spends the rest of the night watching you- making sure you don’t get hurt or do something dumb.

% Illumi definitely won’t be super affectionate or anything but he will be protective

% oh lordy forbid you get drunk in public- a single person looking at you may mean their fingers will be broken

Chrollo

^ he’s the best prepared for this out of the three

^ unlike Illumi he wants to entertain you

^ he won’t baby you or anything but he will be affectionate

^ also he would tell your random facts or stories 

^ and he isn’t as protective as Illumi but he will take your hand and lead you around places so you don’t get lost or something

The bar is packed- definitely not what either of you were expecting for a Thursday night. Something else unexpected for Chrollo is how you kept ordering drinks- margaritas, whiskey, beer, wine, shots... Chrollo tried to dissuade you after every drink but with each beverage came less self control. And even though he felt bad, he did want to see you drunk since he never has. You point at your boyfriend and grin, “How about we get shots together?” You ask- then throwing your arms in the air and cheering. It would get attention from other people if not for the fact that half of the bar is black out drunk.  He chuckles and shakes his head, “I think that’s enough for now honey.” You being protesting and pouting but are interrupted- “Did you know that MnM’s stands for Mars and Murrie?”  You gasp at his words, “No fucking way bro!” He chuckles and stands up, putting some money on the table for tip. “Let’s get some ice cream.” 

^ he’s a sweetheart

^ he just wants you to be happy at all times

#chrollo #chrollo lucilfer #chrollo x reader #illumi #illumi zoldyck #illumi x reader #hisoka #hisoka morrow #hisoka x reader #phantom troupe #hxh #hunterxhunter #adult trio #adult trio x reader

[my2phetaliaheadcanons]

Hey hey heeey~ I just thought of something. What if from the order where the female reader country was forced to get married (That one from Germany and Russia) her boss tells them after a year of the marriage that they want her to get divorced and marry another country for convenience? Saying something like:

"Oh well, since we are better off there is no need for you to stay married to that country, rather I will engage you to another one from which we will get more benefit. Think about your people first and then how you feel, I don't care if you are both in love, you are someone very nice and outgoing lady, I'm sure any other better country will want to marry you."

Do you think it could be with the characters England, America, Russia, Germany, Canada and Sweden. All separately with 2p version and Yandere 2p? If you want to do it either way that's fine! Thank you very much

I only did four out of the six characters. This is because of my character limit is four, unless you ask for a specific group. You are more than welcome to request part two for the ones I didn’t do, or even a part one for the ones I did this time. A yandere version could also be written. Thank you again for the request, I hope you have a good day!

Russia – When his little wife comes to him with this appalling news Viktor will not be pleased. He had publicly declared that he loved you, and you had done the same. Viktor had also gone above and beyond in his duties as a husband. His love for you had led to amazingly beneficial for your people, and yet your boss wanted to end that.

Viktor, on the other hand, does understand that your boss wants what’s best for your people, but he doesn’t care. As long as you are healthy and he can help you, then there is no need for another. Viktor also carries the belief that divorce is only needed for extreme situations, and that other problems can and should be worked out.

In addition, if you are willing, Viktor is willing to raise hell to protect your marriage. He starts simply enough, pressuring your boss with his presence and offering details about why the two of you should remain united. Treaties and trade are the biggest pushes Viktor gives, but as time goes on, they become what Viktor uses against your boss. Many nations would avoid trading because of Viktor’s words, while enemies would start to rise from almost nowhere.

In the end, your boss will give in. Viktor is a big nation with lots to offer, he is correct in that he can not only provide for you but your people as well. So, why not keep letting him do so.

Sweden – Bernard only looks like he takes the news well. Though his hustru knows better, they can see the tightness in his smile. He is not pleased. Even if you thought had a fleeting feeling of just giving in to your boss, Bernard is there to remind you why it is important to fight for your marriage.

Being silver-tongued, Bernard has the benefit of easing his hustru while also convincing your boss to drop this evil idea. It may take some work, but Bernard is not easily dissuaded. He will spend hours with your boss, learning all he can while still dropping hints about how there is no benefit to taking you from him.

If it doesn’t work, then your boss gets annoyed. He won’t outright yell because Bernard has been nothing but diplomatic to him. Your boss may not even be able to deny the good points, but your boss refuses to give in. Especially since other bosses have sent in letters about marrying you to their nations. This is Bernard’s tipping point.

From this Bernard will resort to his final trick, disappearing. He has done with all kinds of people for all kinds of reasons throughout the centuries. Even though his own bosses have found some hiding places, they haven’t found them all. So, Bernard, will bring you both to the oldest one and hunker down until this is all done away with.

Since both of you are important, I can see this working. After like three months, your boss will give in and your marriage will be stronger than ever.

England – At the news Oliver is going to be shocked. He knew that bosses could be stupid, but he never knew that one would be so stupid as to cross him. His shock turns into giggles as he walks over to you and gives a quick kiss. Smoothing your hair, Oliver lets you know not to worry.

Oliver is the king of getting his way. He comes on strong because he wants to make sure that your boss knows why this should not go through. Firstly, Oliver is gonna send a box of cupcakes and a letter. The cupcakes won’t kill, but your boss is gonna feel all kinds of sick. Think the cupcakes Todd Packer gives out in the Office. The letter will be simply written, but still carry the deadly intent. It contains details about what should happen if your boss would continue to attempt to destroy his marriage.

You won’t be able to warn your boss about any of this, because you’ll be with Oliver, enjoying a wonderful date. He also won’t tell you that this is his plan. The only clue you get that anything happened is a phone call.

The call pretty much your boss apologizing for attempting to hurt you and saying have a good night with Oliver. After you two celebrate, Oliver will call your boss. He tells your boss a simple thank you, before walking over to cuddle with you.

Germany – This lazy guard dog gets aggressive once in a while, and this is that moment. He is your husband; he has given himself to you and only you. If you can’t stop your boss, he will. The thought alone of you being taken, causes his angry burns so intensely that he starts to turn red. His breathing gets ragged, and Luther grabs the nearest phone.

With the phone in hand, Luther dials your boss. In those tense few seconds of silence, attempts at calming him down only lead to him pulling you to him. There he just pets your head, until your boss answers. Not even a syllable is spoken before the grilling starts.

Words of anger, betrayal, and threats fly from the mouths of both parties. It takes about five minutes before the phone is angrily thrown down. Pulling you even closer, Luther promises that he will fix this and ensure that you two will remain as one.

Luther’s next choice of action is to use his resources. First, he will go to his boss. Offer deals in ways that could help you two remain together. If they work great, Luther will return to his laid-back self, if not then it's gonna get scary.

Luther calls on favors that he’s been owed. It adds up to quite a bit and tell them all to either drop their courtship or face his fists. This works for many nations, there are many recalls and a huge drop of interest in you. Those that still persist, Luther calls in the rest of the Axis for help. He will do the beat down, but the rest of them help keep away the allies of the offender.

In the end, you two win. Mainly because everyone realizes Luther loves you enough to give up his lazy lifestyle, and this leads to no one wanting to court you. Luther’s aggressive state will calm with the news, and he will go back to being a lazy guard dog. Always close, giving you affection and you two will celebrate like true husband and wife.

Yandere Version: So, the yandere version of this story would have ended differently. There would have been more stalking, and preparations made by the nations to ensure that their sweet little ray of light remains theirs. Also, in my opinion, yandere is a horror trope and as such having them as her husband would be horrific. Unless Stockholm syndrome takes hold, it's only gonna be bliss for one party.

Russia – As a yandere who had his родная within his arms, Viktor is willing to go to war to ensures that she stays there.

It will start simply enough, like his normal self, Viktor will mention lists of why they should remain together. Similar things as before, but his patience is much shorter than before. As in, the second it is confirmed he has a rival, hell will be raised.

Yandere Viktor does it very simply. Starve your country out. It starts with blockades, the intimidating huge Russian warships start to affect trade. Then it escalates to raiding incoming ships and shooting down planes. It is nothing pretty, and your country will struggle to fight back against this world power.

As your citizens suffer, you will start to feel ill. Viktor’s hurt by your pain; he doesn’t show it though. Instead, he holds you close, doing his best to comfort you. Running his fingers through your hair, asking what you need, administering medicine, and more. Though, there would be times when you are alone because of Viktor having to lead the charge against your people. After all, he was the one that wanted it.

In the end, your country is on the verge of collapse. So, they give into the Russian Government, maybe even suggest a merger. Viktor is pleased that you won’t be taken from him and didn’t even have to resort to full-out war. Viktor is saddened at your ill state, but he promises to help you rebuild, after all his influences will help make it all better.

Sweden – Bernard is quick to act the second he realizes that your marriage is under threat. He has a horribly awful plan.

First and foremost, you are hidden away. Just like normal Bernard, he will use one of his oldest and best-hidden hiding places. For anyone that is curious, his best hiding spot is like a big hobbit hole. Deep in the ground, warm and cozy. That little piece of nerdiness is where you will stay. It’s nice until you realize that only Bernard knows where the door is.

Well, Bernard then goes on the offensive. Taking care of any challenges that threaten his spot as your husband. Eventually, that’s not enough, so Bernard decides to target the source of his marital distress, your boss. With the begrudging help of his brothers, they take your capital. This is where you start to feel ill. For as your capital burns, so do you.

Once your boss is cornered, a simple secret declaration is signed. It is a law that decrees that you shall never be taken from Bernard. As nations, no regular citizens shall be alerted to this new law and it leaves you tied to him. After all, it is said until death do you part.

England – Oliver acts very similarly to his yandere self. Though he is much more direct as a yandere.

Yandere Oliver walks into your boss’ office the moment he hears about this foolish plan. His sources, the flying bunnies, would ensure that he hears this plan before you even have a chance to. At this point in your marriage you have finally calmed down, started to accept your place by his side, and he will not risk having you riled up again.

His smile will be like an angered Cheshire cat, wide and tight. No one will want to interact with him and those that watch him pass will pray for his victim. Once he corners your boss and making sure that no one will interfere, Oliver wastes no time drawing his knife.

He is clear with his threat. Let him and his dearie stay together or face a deadly curse. One that would affect all the choices he makes, and yet somehow not harm you in the slightest. Even if your boss gave in to Oliver would make sure scandals would abound, and hopefully, this would push him to either resigning or causing trouble. If your boss causes more trouble then he would have no choice, but to act on your behalf, and kill him.

In the end, Oliver got his wish. You two are still together, and the troublemaker is gone.

Germany – As a yandere, Luther will appear calm at first. It will feel like a trick being played by his kitten. Another attempt at getting away, that is until his own boss calls him.

After that phone call, Luther is quick to start fighting against the order. He starts by asking if you know of anything that could be used against your boss. Scandals, blackmail, family, or even secret pleasures that he could use to his advantage. If you don't give it willingly, then he's gonna force it out of you. Whatever you name, Luther is gonna use.

From there it is simple Luther has his own government back him with whatever info you had forced out of you. It makes for an interesting engagement with your boss. He isn’t happy with what happens, but he is willing to work with the German government.

At first, your boss may just extend the time you two are married. Maybe it’s another year or only a few months, but Luther will take it. This gives him more time to figure out something more damaging.

That more damaging thing is killing off your boss. Luther reasons that if he kills off your boss, the next one will keep you together. Luther will do it up close and personal, using his brass knuckles and then his firearm to finish the job. Sure, your nation will be in flames, but his government can clean up the pieces.

From there it's simple, he helped you in a crisis, and now your marriage is secure.

#2p hetalia #2p headcanons #2p england #2p russia #2p sweden #2p germany

[wesimpforxiao]

Inception: Chapter 1

Author’s Note:  Welcome everyone to my Childe x Reader fanfiction! Decided to post the first (and only so far) chapter since I’m happy with it.  Hope you enjoy this sneak peek!!!

Now where did Mr. Zhongli run off to?  Wherever you'd end up, you'd miss the man by a hair.  Running errands for Hu Tao was practically the equivalent to a wild goose chase.  "Wait a second!"  A sudden realization stopped you in your tracks, and a few customers that were buying kites held startled expressions from your yelp.  "She's pranking me again, isn't she?!"

Zhongli was inspecting noticulous jade samples behind you when he heard a female voice yell to no one in particular.  He turned to see you, completely deflated for reasons unknown to him.  Shouldn't you be at the parlor overseeing your duties in the presence of Hu Tao?  What were you doing out here?  "What seems to be the matter, Reed?"

"ZHONGLI!"  Another yelp, and this time the customers nearby became more annoyed.  You spun on your heel and meet your coworker's gaze.  "I've been looking everywhere for you! Um, Hu Tao wanted me to give you these," you promptly handed a small stack of slightly crumpled documents to him.  "She said they were really important...?"

"Let me see..." Golden eyes turned their attention to the script with the utmost focus before he heaved a tiresome sigh and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Is...something the matter?"  You could've sworn everything was in order...maybe it was possible that in your rush to find him, you had lost a paper or two without noticing?

"What is it exactly that Hu Tao instructed you to do?"  His voice held a tinge of exhaustion, but it went unnoticed by you.

"She just told me to find you and give you the documents, and that you'd know what to do with them.  And she also told me not to look at them.  Why?"

Another sigh, and the documents were handed back to you.  "I apologize, but it appears that you've fallen victim to her...childish antics yet again."  

He was right.  The documents were nothing more than a bunch of gibberish and what looked like to be a horrible attempt to draw Zhongli on one of the papers next to one scribble that was labelled 'doodoo.'  "You've got to be joking."  The scowl on your face was enough to get Zhongli to clear his throat in an effort to dissuade you from your anger.  You were an incredibly nice and patient person, but Zhongli's seen you angry once before.  It was not something he'd like to see again, and with every passing prank, you got closer and closer to snapping at your boss.

"My apologies," he sympathized.  He couldn't exactly keep up with the parlor director's childish ways either, after all.

That was three hours of my day.  You crumpled the papers in your hands before tossing them in the trash.  "Sorry to bother you Zhongli, I'll be heading back to the parlor now."

You took the long way back to the funeral parlor, making a point to walk across the docs that shouldered the sea.  It was well-deserved, you thought, since Hu Tao was constantly testing your patience and you had yet to snap.  If she really needed you today, she wouldn't have sent you on a needless hunt to deliver unnecessary documents.  So what if you showed up a little late now? It was her doing!

The docks were quiet with the occasional pigeons and seagulls cooing as they searched for their next meal--or their next pooping target.  A few pigeons scattered into the wind once you reached a railing that overlooked one of the merchant ships.  

It had been quite some time since your mother brought you across the sea to escape the influences of the Fatui in Snezhnaya--it had to be at least a decade by now, actually.  The Fatui that were stationed near your hometown were a reckless, malicious bunch, and weren't even kind to their own people despite their cohort existing to serve the people.

'To serve the people' was more like 'to serve the Tsaritsa.'  Neglect against her own people soon became a mutual feeling in your town.  She let her Fatui rats run about with no punishment for falling out of line...the audacity! A god is supposed to protect and nurture their people, not toss them aside or save them to be used.

The glimmering of the ocean below the deck only briefly dragged out out of your memories before you fell into them much like a wave washes over the beach.

You still remembered the day when your best friend went missing, and when he finally turned up ragged and dirty a few days later.  He never spoke of what happened, but it wouldn't surprise you if it had anything to do with the agents in your town.  He changed from a hesitant boy to a rambunctious, feisty kid--and the arrogance was insanely annoying.  But just as you tried to get closer to him, your mom decided his mysterious circumstances were what she needed to get herself and you out of Snezhnaya.

"I don't know what happened to you, Ajax, but I hope you're okay."

...........................................

Today's such a beautiful day!  You stretched your arms with content to get the aches of walking all morning out of your shoulders.  Slouching was a horrible habit of yours.  But no matter, it was time to celebrate! Hu Tao finally cut you loose from her list of unfortunate victims of her shenanigans, instead setting her sights on some exorcist that went by the name 'Chongyun.'  Since he wasn't related to the parlor's services--at least, not that you were aware--you didn't know him personally.

That poor soul has no idea what's coming to him, you think as you absently scan the papers in your hands that the parlor director had given you to give to Zhongli before the day's end--you had learned your lesson from last time, and inspected each stack she'd give you.  But as bad as I feel for him, I can't complain since I'm finally scot-free of her.

You made your way toward Liuli Pavilion, where Zhongli had informed you earlier this morning that he'd be conducting a meeting with one of the parlor's biggest funders.  There he is now! And...sitting alone?

"Mr. Zhongli?"  Your quiet interruption shifted his attention from the vivid storytelling of the storyteller to you.  "Did you have your meeting yet?"

"No, he should be arriving shortly," the consultant answered and placed his teacup down.  "What did you need me for?"

"Hu Tao sent me on another errand, er, a valid one this time.  I guess one of our customers was wondering what recommendations you had regarding these?"  A quick hand-off of the documents pertaining the names of precious stones, and Zhongli shut out the story of the ventures of Rex Lapis and his former companion, Azhdaha.

Your eyes left Zhongli for a moment and watched the storyteller's movements.  I've heard this one before.  Azhdaha was reprimanded for turning against humanity, wasn't he?  I wonder what that was like for our god.  To be betrayed by a close friend-

"I see.  Noticulous jade would be the best option considering it's vibrant purple tones, but the beauty of cor lapis when significantly refined to its utmost potential is a valid approach for the ceremony as well.  Why don't we purchase both?  You and I can inspect the nearby stores tomorrow morning."

Honestly, I don't know why I bother asking if his answer is always 'We'll take them all,' your lips twitched from restraining a laugh and you returned your sights on the consultant.  "Alright, let's do that."

"Mr. Zhongli! It's great to see you," an unfamiliar man approached the table with a friendly smile.  "I hope I didn't keep you waiting long."  The confidence that radiated from his stride was enough to make you shrivel up on yourself.  That, and the afternoon light that bounced off of his bright gray clothes half-blinded you.

"Not at all.  Please take a seat.  Reed, why don't you join us?"  Zhongli was aware of your intense opinions of the Fatui, but then again, who in Liyue didn't have a problem with the organization at the moment? Especially after their most recent incident with Osial...and the issue himself was sitting right across the table.  Perhaps meeting such a dangerous individual would dissuade you from pursuing that nighttime hobby of yours...

"Oh, I don't want to intrude.  Isn't this a private meeting?"

"I don't mind," said the red-headed stranger.

Zhongli gestured toward the third chair at the table, and you hesitantly obeyed.  A few minutes couldn't hurt.  You used the moment to get you situated and check out the guy to your left.  He didn't seem familiar, but he had this air about him that was...distinct, if that made any sense.  Familiar yet unfamiliar.  For someone being labelled as one of the most prominent sponsors of the funeral parlor, he didn't button his jacket properly, and a portion of his abdomen was visible while a hydro vision sat comfortably attached to his beltloop.  Or perhaps that was the way the jacket was designed?

Why am I even contemplating this? You peeled your eyes away from his torso in a hurry, and they settled on your hands in your lap.  Way to make a first impression.

"Reed, I would like to introduce you to Ma-"

"Ajax!"  Childe's voice overtook Zhongli's introduction.  "I go by Ajax, it's nice to meet you."  He held out a gloved hand for you to shake.  He didn't think it would be possible to ever see you again, not after your mom took you across the sea, so he spat out a lie without thinking.  Then again, even as a child you hated the Fatui--rightfully so-- so it wouldn't have been a good idea to introduce himself as the very harbinger that almost drowned Liyue.  Childe thought he had recognized you by your hair and the way you walked, but it was so long ago, and the memory of you had long since faded into a blurry image.  But 'Reed'...It couldn't be some coincidence that he met you here.

And by your reaction, he could say his intuition served him right.  "A-Ajax?"  You sat up taller than before, not quite comprehending the situation at first.  The name, the face, those blue eyes--it had to be him.  "Ajax from Snezhnaya?"

"I would hope I'm the only Ajax you know."  Childe shot you a friendly smile, but some smidge of jealousy lie in the depths of his otherwise vacant gaze. Perhaps it could even be considered threatening, or possessive.  He was the only Ajax you knew, right?

"Oh thank the archons you're alright," you released the breath you didn't know you were holding in.  It was all you managed to get out before remembering that a certain party was sitting to your right.  "O-Oh! Zhongli! We knew each other before I emigrated to Liyue-"

"Childhood friends," the harbinger grinned slightly as he met the consultant's confused yet stern gaze.  Something deadly flashed in his eyes, daring Zhongli to speak up and correct his own introduction.

Zhongli wasn't anywhere near afraid or intimidated by Childe, but despite this he did not reveal Childe's true identity.  Perhaps there was a reason the harbinger was posing as his younger self, like he was protecting the image of the perfect older brother for you just as he did with Teucer.

That, and Zhongli had vowed not to meddle in these types of matters just as he neglected to tell Childe he was the geo archon.  It was not his business if Childe chose to deceive you just as he deceived Childe, but if the harbinger posed a threat to you or anyone in Liyue again...Let's just say the passive Zhongli would put his foot down.

"I see," said Zhongli with a thoughtful gaze as he picked up his half-full cup of tea.  "May I inquire as how you two met?"

"Well," you leaned back in your seat and stared at one of the passing clouds as you attempted to recollect old memories.  "I don't remember exactly, but we ran into each other at one of the local markets that stood between our hometowns.  You should've seen him back then Zhongli, he was a nervous reck!"

Childe visibly grimaced at your bluntness, but Zhongli let out a low chuckle.  "Is that so?"  This earned a glare from the harbinger.

"Yes!  He was always second-guessing himself.  I was always the one wearing the pants in the friendship whenever we got to see each other!  And then..."  Your expression darkened as you remembered his disappearance, and his concerning change of attitude when he returned.  But just as quickly as the distasteful memory showed on your face, it was tossed away with a shake of the head.  "You know, there was one time where he had gotten in trouble with one of the local fisherman because he--"

"Now, now!"  Childe interrupted with a slightly aggressive--no, embarrassed--tone.  "I don't think Mr. Zhongli would be interested in--"

"On the contrary, I would be more than delighted to hear of Ajax's childhood stories," Zhongli sipped away at his tea, making a point to emphasize the new name while staring straight Childe.

"Aw, you embarrassed?"  Childe wanted to wipe that smug grin off your face for noticing.  He thought he was great at hiding his emotions, but with your surprise appearance, he was a bit more than caught off guard.  You covered your mouth and leaned toward Zhongli while whispering, "I'll tell you later, promise!"

Childe let out something of a strangled chuckle that made the corner of Zhongli's lips twitch upward.  "So, what have you been up to all this time?"

"Well, I've been working at the funeral parlor with Zhongli for the past year or so," you leaned back with a thoughtful gaze.  "I live by myself now; mom died a few years ago.  Oh, I've been training since I got here, too.  You can't trust the Fatui anywhere in Teyvat.  That, and anyone that roams around late at night.  Better safe than sorry."

"So you fight?"  Childe's eyes lit up like a fire was lit, and you smile turned into a frown.

"Don't tell me you're still..."  But with his slightly oblivious tilt of the head, you couldn't bring yourself to bring up that portion of your history.  Not yet.  "If need be, yes."  The best option was to change the subject, especially to spare Zhongli of what could possibly turn into an argument.  "How did you find yourself in Liyue?"

"I..."  A glance was sent briefly in Zhongli's direction, but he purposely ignored it.  "I'm a toy seller these days."

"Augh--"  A sputtered cough came from Zhongli, and he dabbed at his lips with a handkerchief.  "Ahem...Apologies, it appears I choked on a bit of tea."

After an awkward laugh escaped Childe, you turned back to him.  "A toy seller?  You?"  Was it relief you felt, or a feeling of on-edge?  Perhaps it'd be better if he turned out nice enough to become a toy seller, but with the way you two left things in Snezhnaya, you'd thought it be more likely that he'd end up arrested.  Or join the Fatui.  Or just anything involving violence.  Not sure of what to make of his words, you snapped to Zhongli.  "Wait, I thought you had a meeting with one of the benefactors of the funeral parlor?  Why would a toy seller be involved with us?"

"Yes, I've wondered that myself," Zhongli set his empty teacup aside and faced Childe directly to bait him.  "You've never told me the story.  How did you find yourself involved with the parlor, Ajax?"

The hint of a smirk on the consultant's lips made the harbinger's blood boil even though he managed to keep his façade of a smile plastered on his face.  "Well, I wouldn't want to bore you with the details, it's an uninteresting story!"

"Tell me," you begged, eyes sparkling in anticipation.  "It might not be boring to us!"

"Yes, do tell," Zhongli encouraged.

You're enjoying this too much, Mr. Zhongli.  Childe did his best to hide his annoyance under his signature grin.

........................................

The sigh that escaped the harbinger once you left to finish your duties at the parlor prompted Zhongli to raise a brow at him.  "Shut up," Childe muttered without sparing a glance his way.  He knew you were hateful of the Fatui; that's most likely why he lied without a second thought, but as to why he'd bother doing so since you weren't close anymore was unknown.

At least, to Childe it was.  Zhongli had already figured it out by the lengthy conversation of Childe's extensive toy seller lie.  "You two were more than 'close' back in Snezhnaya, were you not?"  

"Don't overthink it Zhongli, we were only friends."

"And yet you wear your Harbinger status proudly on your sleeve."

"What're you implying?"  Childe, growing impatient and bored of the conversation, shifted in his seat.  You had left as their meals were served, so to his utmost horror, he now realized he was given chopsticks to use for his dish.  

"You also don't like deceiving others unlike your fellow harbingers."

A disgusted scoff left his lips as he lifted his chopsticks.  "...You think I, Tartaglia, am in love with a childhood friend?  My my my, Mr. Zhongli, it seems you've finally lost your marbles after living six thousand years. Perhaps living among humans has taken a toll on your wisdom."

"There are several reasons for which a person would lie."  Zhongli lowered his voice as the storyteller finished his monologue.  "The only one that would make sense after observing you for so long would be infatuation."

Childe had tuned him out by now, concentrating with furrowed brows on holding his dumplings correctly in-between his chopsticks.  But they were too heavy, what with his hand shaking the utensils, and they fell back on the plate with a wet plop.  Curse these stupid-  Childe nearly threw them at the building to his left, but restrained himself before he could lose to his frustrations.  Instead he used one chopstick to stab the dumpling and in an exasperated huff, shoved it into his mouth.

"So, what is the real reason you're back in Liyue?"  Zhongli set his third cup of tea aside after watching the pitiful struggle before him.  "It had sounded like you'd be in Snezhnaya for quite some time before returning, yet here you are only months after Osial."

"Oh," Childe sat up, only now remembering that what he had told you earlier was a drastic lie.  "I've been meaning to ask you about the matters I'm dealing with.  The Fatui here are fed-up with some...vigilante that interferes with their work here.  Whoever's at fault is clearly an amateur, but my subordinates here are apparently too incompetent to catch them.  They're stealing important documents from the Northland Bank, setting traps on the roadsides, and even breaking into our apartments to steal the agents' uniforms."

Zhongli cradled his chin in his hand while in deep thought.  He's heard of such a person; they often came to the parlor in the early morning hours to avoid getting caught since their living quarters were on the opposite side of town--he caught them more than once, out of breath, and dressed in black.

"--Basically the men are agitated at this point and threatening to leave their posts, and everyone's on edge because of another matter that may be related.  A few of our agents have gone missing with no trace, so I am here to locate them.  Whoever this vigilante is might know something; both occurrences started approximately three months ago."  Childe grabbed his last dumpling and ate it before leaning back in his seat.  "So, given that you are the wisest man in Liyue, I decided to come to you for advice.  Would you happen to know of anyone or anything involved?"

"Yes," Zhongli hummed, eyes downcast and settled on his folded hands.  "It's possible I hold information valuable to your search."

Childe's pupils lit up in delight.  "Oh?  Do enlighten me."

"But first, the vigilante is not related to your missing men," he took another sip of tea, lost in thought.  "And they are more or less an amateur seeking to disrupt Fatui operations, but they don't usually harm your agents--"

"That's inaccurate to say, Zhongli.  Last week three of my guys came back with broken noses or fractured arms."

--that I know of."  A pointed glare just made the harbinger lean forward against the table.

"You know who I'm searching for."

"Perhaps."

"Then spill."

"Am I really obligated to tell you based on your earlier behavior?"

"Mr. Zhongli, this person poses a serious threat to the health of my men, and potentially their lives.  Do you not care that human lives are at stake because of this...this...killer?"

Says the man who tried to drown my country.  "As usual, you are making brash assumptions.  They are not a killer, and they are not dangerous unless backed into a corner."

Childe was growing sick of beating around the bush, so he deadpanned.  "Zhongli."

The former archon let out a low sigh before meeting his gaze.  "As long as you remember what I just said, then I suppose I'll let you know.  The person you're searching for is the same person you lied to at this table."

#inception #wesimpforxiao #genshin x reader #childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact childe #childe genshin impact #genshin impact

[decennia]

i give u free reign to infodump ab all of the knights and the og army bc i am vv intrigued agjgssgsh

THERE IS SO MUCH HERE OMFG MORAL OF THIS STORY NEVER ASK ME TO INFO DUMP BECAUSE I WILL TAKE FULL ADVANTAGE OF IT—

I've separated it into sections:

The Knights of Walpurgis, and the motivations for their assigned sins.

Dumbledore's First Resistance, and the motivations for their assigned virtues.

The dynamics between the opposing contenders.

Given the sheer volume of information, I've included a cut. Please enjoy this manip that I am still very proud of.

THE KNIGHTS OF WALPURGIS (later known as Death Eaters) Tom Riddle (Pride)

Pride and arrogance were very large contributing factors to Tom Riddle's downfall in the end, and honestly, the whole idea for the gifset came from Florence + The Machines' Seven Devils playing while casually thinking of Dagrim and Tom, and then about how perfectly Tom would fit as Lucifer.

Dagrim Patil (Avarice)

When questioned about what she wants, and what Riddle promised her in exchange for her unwavering loyalty, her response is, quite simply: everything. Dagrim grew up starved not for affection, but recognition. And what she was denied in childhood, she would take in adulthood by force. Her philosophy is that if something is worth wanting, it is worth taking.

Cantankerous Nott IV (Lust)

We know so little about Theodore Nott's father from the source material, other than he was elderly, and he raised Theo himself. And that he was a Death Eater, of course. His name is an ode to his ancestor, the Cantankerous Nott who created the Sacred Twenty-Eight pureblood directory. I assigned him "lust" purely for the events leading to the conception of his son (sis, it gets messy).

Abraxas Malfoy (Envy)

Abraxas Malfoy envied Tom Riddle to the point of a half attempted mutiny. He was quickly put in his place, his co-conspirators made examples of, and spared only for his close friendship with Dagrim, who pleaded for his life. Riddle, who trusted Dagrim to a fault for all she'd done to earn it, conceded. Abraxas would later prove himself to Riddle again, regaining his seat among Riddle's favoured generals. He was the one who taught Lucius to never disobey the Dark Lord, and he was not a kind teacher.

Ulysses Mulciber (Gluttony)

Indulgence and excess, spoiled rotten and filthy rich. The Mulcibers were the richest of the Sacred at one point in their lives, rivalled only by the Malfoys. Ulysses never knew the meaning of "enough," and was a glutton not only in all manners of vice, but also for cruelty, dealing it out carelessly with little to no regard for the repercussions he was well protected from by his noble standing and wealth. He was one of Riddle's greatest allies and sponsors, and instrumental in his rise to power.

Carmilla Avery (Wrath)

Carmilla was in the year above Riddle, and was quick to anger and slow to calm. Her temper was legendary, and even her younger brothers – also admitted into the Death Eater ranks – feared her. She had an untempered fury, a rage at the world for no reason at all. She developed an unhealthy codependency with Abraxas Malfoy, who served to have a soothing presence over her. People seldom survive crossing her, as her reputation dictates.

Serafine Lestrange (Sloth)

Serafine is not lazy (as the sin "sloth" would suggest), she just lacks the motivations to pursue the goals that are expected of her. A particularly bright witch, and a wealthy one too, she never applied herself at school for she didn't see the need. Instead, she fell into a fascination of the Dark Arts, where she met Riddle, perusing the Restricted Section. She is rather discontented with life, disillusioned from already such a young age. She initially joins Riddle's gang for the excitement of it all.

DUMBLEDORE'S FIRST RESISTANCE (later known as the Order of the Phoenix in its official conception in 1970)

Albus Dumbledore (Patience)

Name a man more patient than Dumbledore, I'll wait. Better yet, he'll wait, because he's patient as hell. So patient, in fact, he waited until after Harry's supposed death to come to him as a hallucination and tell him about how he was a Horcrux.

Rathin Patil (Temperance)

Temperance is abstinence, and I wanted to explore the kind of toll having his sister so far gone into the dark would have on any man, let alone one who really cared for her and wanted to do right by her. Rathin is not a perfect man, he is still fallible, and unfortunately, he develops a dependent comfort in inebriation when Dagrim disappears with Riddle. He pulls himself back together, especially when he becomes Isaiah Moody's partner at the Ministry, and he begins to pursue Miraya.

Miraya Varma (Diligence)

Methodical and persistent, Miraya Varma earned herself a position at the Ministry immediately out of Hogwarts where she would later go on to form her own task force within the Ministry specifically designed for the interrogation and recommended sentencing of dark wizards and witches. She has been known to put her duty first, up until the birth of her son, Divyansh Patil, father to Padma and Parvati.

Isaiah Moody (Humility)

For a very long time, people seldom knew the Moody name, and that was the way Isaiah liked it. He believed that his line of work would endanger his loved ones (in spite of his wife being in the same profession) and so he never took credit for the numerous arrests he made. It was Isaiah who suspected something was strange about Morfin Gaunt's arrest while investigating the Riddle Massacre, and consulted Dumbledore about it. Once his identity was discovered and he was viewed as a threat by Riddle, an attack was made on his heavily pregnant wife, jeopardizing her and his unborn boy's (Alastor) life.

Minerva McGonagall (Chastity)

Mini Minnie is seventeen, my dudes. But not only that, Minerva grew up with a religious father (he was canonically a reverend), who probably taught her his values. Also given the fact that Minerva was the first of the younger generation to participate and involve herself in the war (she sought out Dumbledore and enlisted herself into his Resistance, fearing her family would be made into another statistic if she didn't at least do something to intervene), she really didn't have much time to think about something as arbitrary as the concept of virginity. Also, it's the 1950s.

Corinne Scamander (Kindness)

Corrine is honestly the greatest. She has all of the tenacity of Tina, and the best qualities of Newt. It was Dumbledore's previous bond with Newt that encouraged him to recruit her, and she willingly accepted, because of course she would. She'd always been the soft spoken girl with a tender touch and a love for life, and she was often the advocate for hope in the resistance. She was adept in a few healing charms she'd learned from her father, and was something of a specialist in magical beings, proving herself to be highly valuable while Riddle was expanding his ranks with all manner of dark creatures.

Declan Diggory (Charity)

Sacrifice is in the Diggory blood, and Cedric's grandfather, Declan, was not the first to prove it. He also, unfortunately, wasn't the last, but he sure was one of the best. Selfless to a fault, Declan would willingly get hypothermia if it meant someone else would have warmth. Diggory's contributions to the war effort consisted of offering sanctuary and shelter to muggleborns who received death threats, and orchestrating the evacuations of targeted muggle residences. He was the leader of a small faction of the resistance, including, but not limited to: Fleamont Potter, Enoch Longbottom, Wilhelm Shacklebolt, and Ramona McKinnon.

DYNAMICS (just the contenders for now because this is hella long)

Albus Dumbledore vs. Tom Riddle

Adversaries, a fair deal of mistrust and guilt from Dumbledore's side (upon reflection, he'd been the one to introduce Tom to the wizarding world; even though he knows that if Riddle had been left unchecked, the risk of him becoming an Obscurus would've resulted in catastrophe all the same). Riddle sees Dumbledore as nothing more than a foolish old man, a pest, and an obstacle to overcome at first, but learns to begrudgingly respect Dumbledore's strength and mastery of magic (after all, Riddle only knew him as the Transfiguration teacher before, and thought the accounts of Dumbledore's victory over Grindelwald had been exaggerated to great effect). Riddle's hubris was believing he could defeat Dumbledore on his own, thinking himself already stronger than Grindelwald ever hoped to be.

Rathin Patil vs. Dagrim Patil

Rathin had always been very protective of Dagrim, and loved her dearly, although his acts of affection were often misinterpreted as pity and condescension. This only served to push them further apart. When Dagrim turned to the Dark Arts and found solace in Riddle, it revolted Rathin, as he was hugely against the corruption the Dark Arts has on the performing witch or wizard, and wouldn't wish it on his worst enemy. He still very much loves her, and it hurts him to fight her. Dagrim, on the other hand, finds catharsis in duelling her brother, believing it to be justice for the way her parents treated her and the little he did to dissuade them.

Miraya Varma vs. Cantankerous Nott

A mutual respect and an academic rivalry, Cantankerous and Miraya were not friends by any means, but not enemies, either. Cantankerous even went as far as to warn Miraya of an impending attack, allowing her to evacuate the building. But although he knows she's clever, he also knows that she's incredibly stubborn, and displayed little surprise to find her awaiting him in the now vacant building. They are equally matched, and their unique relationship spans several decades, even into Cantankerous' failed run at Minister for Magic, and Theodore and the Patil twins' time at Hogwarts. She was present at his trial following the Battle of the Department of Mysteries, and watched as he was sentenced to life in Azkaban for his crimes as a Death Eater.

Isaiah Moody vs. Abraxas Malfoy

Given his profession, Isaiah has a lot of enemies on the Sacred Twenty-Eight who are loyal to the Dark Lord. One such enemy is Abraxas Malfoy. When Tom gets word of Moody's involvement in solving the Riddle Massacre, he sends Malfoy and a newer Death Eater, Evangeline Rosier, to hinder the investigation. Abraxas and Evangeline were responsible for the attack on Isaiah's heavily pregnant wife, who, if she hadn't been an Auror herself, would've never survived. Alastor Moody was prematurely born at St. Mungo's following the attack, and all of Isaiah's efforts were turned on exacting vengeance on those responsible. Malfoy went into hiding, but Isaiah, ruthless, managed to hunt down Rosier. She died under questioning, setting in motion a vicious cycle of vengeance between the Moodys and Rosiers. Once Isaiah had been killed by Evangeline's brother (Evan [who was named after her] Rosier's father), Abraxas deemed it safe to rejoin society.

Minerva McGonagall vs. Ulysses Mulciber

On the list of things Ulysses loathes, he would put half-bloods above muggleborns (although he turns a blind eye to his Dark Lord's blood status when it conveniences him). Half-bloods only serve as a reminder of the lowest and weakest of his kind; the unworthy muggleborns, the lecherous blood traitors, the vermin muggles. Mulciber prides himself as something of a "purifier," and finds great enjoyment in pruning family trees that have been poisoned by muggle blood into purity once more. He takes a great interest in Minerva McGonagall, given that she is an incredibly powerful witch at such a young age, and he wonders how glorious she would've been had she been a pureblood (a twisted and untrue belief among the Sacred Twenty-Eight during that time). Minerva, the threat of Mulciber weighing heavily on her, places her family under Dumbledore's protection. She vows to stop Mulciber and his perverse idea of justice.

Corinne Scamander vs. Carmilla Avery

It didn't take much to enrage Carmilla Avery, and Corinne had been caught in the tempest Carmilla's fury since the day they'd met. Carmilla, who took great pleasure in picking on people she deemed lesser, made a target out of Corinne, perceiving her kindness for weakness. During their time at Hogwarts, Corinne had gained the attention of Avery for being a blood traitor and a muggle sympathizer, which only strengthened Carmilla's vindication. Corinne, who had been friends with Rubeus Hagrid prior to his expulsion, and who had almost fallen prey to the basilisk when she had heard Myrtle Warren's cries from the bathroom, never lowered herself to Carmilla's level nor did she rise to any of the challenges. This hurt Avery's ego, as she thought this was Corinne's way of claiming herself better than her. It wasn't until after Hogwarts that Carmilla's growing resentment came to a head, and, without the protection the school offered Corinne, Carmilla was looking to finally put an end to the blood traitor line of Scamander.

Declan Diggory vs. Serafine Lestrange

Declan and Serafine were childhood friends who drifted apart during their time at Hogwarts, particularly when she fell in with Riddle's crowd. She is viewed by Dumbledore as having the power to sway the entire outcome of the war, for if Serafine could be persuaded into leaving Riddle, her cousins (one of whom is the father of Rodolphus and Rabastan Lestrange) would surely comply, and the families who held the Lestranges in high regard would be inclined to follow. This makes Declan and Serafine key pieces in Dumbledore's game of strategy. However, Serafine was disowned long before she defected from the Death Eaters, leaving the Lestranges firmly in Riddle's grasp. Although Serafine claimed to feel nothing for Diggory, she still refused to deal any real harm to him when they duel, in spite of having ample opportunity to do so; something which Riddle picked up on. She was later forced to torture Declan in front of him to prove her loyalty to the Dark Lord, something which Declan permitted her to do, knowing she had very little choice in the matter. He was left for dead, but Serafine would later secretly return with Corinne to get him medical attention. She gives her son, Francis, "Declan" as a middle name.

#rip to everyone who read this until the end #fic: and the snakes start to sing #fic: atssts #knights of walpurgis #death eaters #order of the phoenix #tom riddle #voldemort #albus dumbledore #oc: dagrim patil #oc: rathin patil #oc: cantankerous nott #oc: miraya varma #abraxas malfoy #oc: isaiah moody #oc: ulysses mulciber #minerva mcgonagall #oc: carmilla avery #oc: corinne scamander #oc: serafine lestrange #oc: declan diggory

[wildlyglittering]

The Journey Begins with a Smile

So ages ago (and I do mean ages) I asked people to give me some Nessian prompts and I had four requests. Not many so that’s completely doable I thought. 

Since my request, things didn’t go so well for my personal life and then, on a global scale, a pandemic hit. Both those things meant I wasn’t writing or even reading much. 

BUT I was determined to fill those requests - even if the requesters had forgotten or no longer cared! Luckily I have managed to get my groove back so am trying to ride the writing train for as long as it will carry me!

@ekaterinakostrova requested something where Cassian made Nesta smile for the first time. I’ve taken some liberties to fill the prompt but here it is. Finally. 

I hope you enjoy!

***

The multi-level gardens of the Day Court stretched outwards like a labyrinth.

Unlike the Night Court, whose gardens were sensibly flat, Day’s held winding staircases which lead to a plethora of mezzanines, stacked one after another. Each offered a new delight; pools of water swimming with gold and white fish, pagodas draped with ever blossoming honeysuckle or fountains carved with the curved forms of caressing lovers.

Some paths appeared to lead to dead ends, but the experienced visitor long learnt appearances were deceiving. As long as the explorer had the foresight to move thickets of ivy and trailing roses aside, they would find smaller paths twisting towards secret grottos.

Aside from the romantic allure of mystery, the garden’s contained an energy which reverberated through Cassian’s bones. Although the deep calm of the Night Court lands was his preference, Cassian found staying in Day was never an unpleasant experience.

Wandering the gardens would have been its usual satisfying activity if not for the frustration simmering in Cassian’s veins. Not an hour before he’d bit the inside of his cheek until he tasted the copper of his blood before storming from the bedroom suites, leaving the other occupant behind.

His anger, and hers, were twins to each other. When the subject matter at hand arose, rational discussion dissipated like smoke in a storm and, as they were both apt to lose their tempers, that’s exactly what they did. After those times, it was best they stayed apart.

Being away from the Night Court brought up the familiar argument.

Cassian scrubbed a hand over his face, they were in Day on Rhys’ orders otherwise they wouldn’t have been there at all.

The knowledge of who Lucien was to Helion, and who the Lady of Autumn had been, was now widely known. Now, the painful possibility of civil war loomed over the Courts, brought on by the betrayal of an unwritten code of conduct. Helion was thinking ahead, reaching out to all potential allies in the hopes if he gained enough, Autumn would be dissuaded to start conflict.

There was no question Rhys would pledge to Helion.

It didn’t hurt though, Rhys said, to pay Day a visit.

Rhys spoke about contingency planning and counter-measure tactics but Cassian had known Rhys long enough to understand the guise. Under everything lay the ripple of the question of Spring’s allegiance and the inevitable shift of power towards the next generation of High Lords, including those Rhys was unable to befriend.

Custom dictated High Lords, and now High Lady, were the only ones to be allowed in the sanctum to speak politics. However, Rhys requested the attendance of his Inner Circle - where Rhys went, his most trusted followed.

What was less clear was the rationale behind Rhys’ request that those connected to the Inner Circle also attend. It was, Cassian believed, Rhys’ attempt to keep his friends compliant and a way to curry favour from others - namely Lucien who always hungered for time with Elain.

This secondary request was the one which opened the festering wound close to the surface of Nesta’s skin.

In an effort to find some calm, Cassian took to walking the gardens, like he had many times before. Like those times before, his steps took him a familiar route. Maybe, in the depths of his subconscious mind, he sought out what would bring him solace no matter how measly a sliver.

He ventured down a staircase, overflowing with floating lilacs, and onto a terrace which was surprisingly spacious for such a narrow-arched entrance.

This particular mezzanine was paved with sand coloured stone and framed by apple trees, their branches reaching towards each other like fingers. The waist high balcony overlooked the next level down – the glass domed ceiling of the sunken library.

This terrace, tucked away in the constructed gardens, housed the collection of seven statues who all faced inwards, into their circle, for eternity.

Like all statues in Day, the figures had been carved from marble run through with thick veins of gold and silver. Unlike the other statues, Cassian held an interest for these and these alone.

Whichever sculptor Helion found, he found one with talent. Despite the fact they were rock the sculptures contained something so painfully real. They were motionless yet their bodies held motion, they were emotionless yet their faces held emotion. When Cassian reached out to touch them, he swore there was bone beneath their stone skin.

Day was never more glorious then how she was now, in the full swing of her namesake and the wide blue sky called to Cassian to dance. Though his muscles ached to obey and his wings quivered in anticipation, he wouldn’t fly. Day was filled with sharp, ornate spires and he’d navigated a similar path unsuccessfully before.

But being trapped on the ground did nothing to help his mood; his legs shook, his eyes stung. Cassian was tired of the burning sun, tired of being apart from his friends, tired of the endless political deliberations of the other High Lords.

When he was unable to fly, Cassian needed to find other ways to curb his energy. One of those ways often involved his willing mate.

Except, at this current time she was not quite so willing. The blush pink rooms they were guests in were uncomfortably close to the rooms of others so Nesta didn’t want to make love to him here. She was even less likely to be inclined towards Cassian’s persuasions following their argument.

This was a radical departure from how they were in the isolation of their mountain cabin, especially in those final days. Time had turned into hourglasses and the sand of their lives trickled through their fingers fast then they breathed.

They couldn’t move to each other quick enough then, couldn’t remove their clothes fast enough, couldn’t press their bodies close enough.

Since their return to Velaris it was as though Nesta was turning into stone as cold and hard as the material of the statues Cassian now stared at.

Cassian sighed, drawing a deep breath of the lilac scented air into his lungs and walked towards one statue in particular. The one he thought of as his twin.

The stone fae stood high on the ends of its toes, as if it couldn’t bear to have any part of itself touching the ground. The arms stretched over its head, fingers straining upwards, begging for the sky to claim it. The figure didn’t have wings but Cassian imagined them, stretched out behind, broad and strong.

Cassian’s own wings, tangible flesh and bone, twitched as a breeze drifted past.  

The circle existed for centuries but grew in number over the years. The first ones, the original ones, hadn’t changed but the way Cassian looked at them had. Once a carefree nature danced about them but, like all things weightless, that had floated away.

The invisible weight on them now was hard and heavy. Even the figure for the sky had something buried under the surface that hadn’t existed before.

Cassian was no fool – he recognised his own transference. What he saw; fatigue, anger, sorrow – these were his own burdens and in turn he projected them onto the poor stone creature in front of him willing it to absorb what he didn’t want.

Cassian ran his hand once more over his face. He wanted his effigy to take Nesta’s words which today were sharper than usual with insults flung towards his family with flippant ease. He reminded her that when she spoke with venom against them, she spoke venom against him.

Take your antidote then, she’d sneered, beg your friends to draw it all out if you think I’m such poison.

Nesta hadn’t been fully happy in the mountains but she’d been as close to peace as he’d ever seen. Finally, a part of Nesta was at rest, and the female Cassian loved was in a place he loved. All had been right for a time, their hearts in full growth, only to shrink into themselves when they were summoned back to Velaris.

Cassian would be misguided to think their arrival in Day was what agitated Nesta to begin the fight that morning. He could pretend she picked up on his restlessness or that she didn’t care much for the Court however the latter was a lie.

During her lengthy rehabilitation Nesta had visited Day on numerous occasions, sometimes with Cassian but often without. On the instances he visited her he was forced to choke down his jealousy at seeing Nesta and Hellion walking arm in arm, understanding that the High Lord of Day was playing a significant part in helping her heal.

Nesta would spend every minute in this place if Helion asked her to.

No, everything triggered from Rhys’ request that Nesta come to Day.

In Nesta’s eyes, Rhys’ request was a command; a command which served only to appease Rhys’ ego and prove he would always be able to demand the lives of those around him bend to his will.

Rhys wanted Cassian to be in Day and Rhys wanted Nesta to provide a pleasant distraction for Cassian’s restless nature. There was no other purpose.

The bitterness bled into Nesta at the fact Rhys demanded her attendance in a place she adored and would visit without complaint. Rhys had smirked it was the ‘without complaint’ he’d wanted from her for once.

She came only because Cassian had pleaded.

 The heavy honeysuckle cloyed at Cassian’s nose and he decided to leave the gardens before he drowned in the scent of flowers. He’d find Az, a permanently sympathetic ear, who would patiently listen to Cassian’s complaints about how suffocated he was in a place he longer wished to be.

As he turned, a flash of marble hidden in the trees caught his eye.

Cassian hadn’t noticed anything else on this mezzanine before but it was no surprise, the white figure among the deep green leaves was set apart from the circle and tucked out of sight.  

Drawing closer he saw the statue stood with its back to the rest, head titled downwards. The marble designed to be the hair splayed outwards as though caught in a tumultuous wind. Something about the statue, something about her, hollowed out Cassian’s chest.

“Why didn’t Helion put you with the others?”

“Because she doesn’t belong with the others.”

A voice, smoky and deep, carried across the space and Helion appeared from behind a wall of ivy onto the terrace next to him.

Cassian quirked an eyebrow. “I didn’t know about that secret passage.”

“That’s the whole point of it being a secret,” Helion said with a wistful sigh. “Now I’ll have to move it.”

“Don’t on my account.”

“And have you get here quicker to start your sulking? I don’t think so.”

Cassian opened his mouth to refute Helion’s words but the High Lord spoke over him.

“Beautiful, isn’t she?” he said with a nod to the statue. “Out of all them, this one’s my favourite.” Helion turned to Cassian, dark skin glowing from the light within, mischief in his eyes.

Cassian bit his teeth together.

She was beautiful though, curves and angles, and the strength of stone. But who were they speaking of? The statue or Nesta herself?

“Why is she over here and not with the rest?”

The smugness slid from Helion’s face, his dark eyes scanning Cassian’s face, categorising every imperfection and scar as though he searched for something. Perhaps he wasn’t able to find what he wanted and a sad smile crept onto his face. “I told you – she doesn’t belong with the others. If I put her in the circle where would she gaze? At the ground? I won’t have that for her.”

Cassian’s mouth twisted, “She’s already looking at the ground.”

Helion cocked his head to the side, like one of the curious dogs in the mortal realm who sensed an invisible Cassian without truly perceiving him.

“Interesting how we can view something so differently. Tell me,” Helion said, “what are you seeing?”

They stood, arm length apart, one a High Lord and one a General. One draped in white and gold silks and the other clad in black leather. Winged and grounded.

Centuries existed between them with decades of Helion’s decadent parties where his fingertips would trail across the skin of Cassian’s muscled forearm, his mouth curled into a sensual smile. They’d not gone to bed with each other but shared at least one female over the years.

Here they stood in the sun; no lustful invitations, no pulling of rank. They were two males, competing in a game with stakes Cassian didn’t care for.

Still, he described her. Head downward, eyes downcast, eyelids. No sculptor would ever be able to create something so fine but Cassian swore there were delicate, long eyelashes casting a shadow against the sharp sculptured cheekbones. The graceful neck curved into a collarbone and clavicle with strands of stone hair caught in a storm of her own making.

Head and eyes down. This is what Cassian relayed to Helion. “Are you satisfied?” he growled, “I’m tired of playing.”

Cassian had jested over the years that Helion had a way of undressing him with his eyes, of looking beyond the armour and siphons to the male underneath. Helion had roared with delight and asked Cassian if he wanted to put that feeling into action.

Now, with the High Lord’s dark eyes on him, Cassian believed Helion was witnessing something deeper, that he was now staring beyond bone and blood.

“I know when you’re upset,” Helion said, glancing away, “and where you go when you are. You’ve walked this pathway numerous times and besides, these are my gardens, they tell me everything.” Helion’s eyes flickered back to Cassian, “You’re not as prone to idiocy as Rhys would have you be. Look again and try and do it properly.”

I have, Cassian wanted to tell him but he hadn’t.

Her stone feet were planted on solid ground, the stone hands down by her sides with the palms facing upwards. Her head was still down as were her eyes.

The figure seemed to change the longer he looked, one expression melting into another, completely different from before; disinterest, anger, peace. Cassian followed the line of her eyes to the gold domes roof of the sunken library glinting in the sunlight on the mezzanine below.

The statues full lips were tilted upwards into a smile, small but there.

“You don’t love Day,” Helion said to him, his deep voice breaking through the storm of Cassian’s thoughts.

“I enjoy it.”

“But Day will never be home.” Helion raised a robed arm towards the sky, long dark fingers stretching out, the light greedily swimming around his skin. “You seek freedom and you can’t find that here. So, my question to you oh miserable one, where do you find freedom?”

Cassian shrugged; this was an easy question and though Helion already had the answer, Cassian would play a little longer. “Velaris. The mountains.”

“And who are you free with?”

Helion’s tone was sly and conspiratorial as though he was inviting Cassian into a darkened room and asking him to share all his secrets, whispering across velvet pillows or through draped curtains. It was like honey dripped from Helion’s mouth.

Cassian’s fists clenched, tendons sliding over bones as he flexed his fingers.

Helion was skilled at drawing out confidences that most fae wanted to keep hidden. He emitted some strange magic which made Cassian want to dash to the nearest scribe and spill everything he had. Names and faces swam into Cassian’s mind, seemingly at Helion’s bidding, the most prominent being the one who spent her morning scowling at him.

Her name took shape at the end of Cassian’s tongue.

“You know who,” Cassian choked the words out in lieu of the ones that was forming, “don’t play your games.”

Helion stepped closer to the statue with a sigh and trailed a graceful finger across the carved lifeline on her upturned left palm. The line cut off not long after it started before beginning again, half a nail width away. It matched the real version perfectly.

Helion pouted and peered over the ledge. “It’s no fun if you don’t want to play but let’s not then, let me share with you a truth which your own truth speaker doesn’t care to bring to you. Nesta isn’t free in Velaris, but then you do know this.” Helion’s eyes glanced from the sun glinted library roof to Cassian’s face.

“She’s free here though. My statues, my darling beauties, represent the hearts of my most welcomed guests and while you are quick to immediately assume that Nesta spends her time staring at the ground, I see she is simply seeking her own peace.” Helion shrugged, gold and white silk sliding over smooth dark skin. “Freedom looks different for everyone.”

“I know that,” Cassian snarled, teeth bared, “I don’t need some heavy-handed lecture.”

The air began to pulse as an energy reverberated around the stone of the terrace. The tree branches shook and the leaves rustled. One growl of power to a disobeying dog. A warning; never bear your canines at a High Lord in the very Court his blood runs through.

Cassian uncurled his fists, splaying his fingers in Helion’s eyeline. Acquiescence. Cassian was guilty of foolish behaviour but he was no fool.

Helion’s tone had bite. “I’ll forgive your misjudgement on account of your poorly developed emotional response mechanism but only this once. You get away with burying your head when in the Night Court but I won’t have it here. Let me speak plain - this statue is an everlasting part of my garden but it’s rock, expensive rock, but rock. I would happily welcome the originator of its visage to become a permanent member of my Court. I think she’d accept, don’t you?”

Although the power of Helion still sang its presence, Cassian restrained the urge to turn feral. He didn’t, wouldn’t, because despite what others thought, Cassian was no animal. Besides, some part of Helion’s words wormed their way through Cassian’s brain.

Perhaps Helion discerned the calm Cassian was desperately trying to maintain because his voice was soft when he next spoke. “You have two options my handsome friend; go together to a place where you are both equally as free or find your freedom apart. Sacrifices have to be made and they shouldn’t all be hers.”

The sweet scent of roses and lilacs drifted through the mezzanine and Cassian looked down at the statue’s open palm.

 “You can spend your time out here staring at an exquisitely carved piece of stone or you can reach for something real,” Helion said. “Your choice.”

Cassian thought of the circle of statues at his back, most especially the one on its toes spending centuries reaching for something that never came.

The squeeze on Cassian’s shoulder was gentle. “You’ll find her in the library,” Helion told him, “but then, you already knew that.”

Cassian sighed and closed his eyes and when he’d opened them, Helion had gone. Only the hanging ivy swaying by the wall was any indication of where he’d gone. Cassian looked back at the statue’s calm and serene face before trailing a fingertip onto the other open palm, half expecting her hand to curl around his, finding that he wanted it to.

“Yeah,” he murmured, “I knew.”

Cassian wanted everything; Nesta, the Inner Circle, Velaris. He wanted his freedom; long fought for and hard won. He could have all those things if he pushed hard enough - but only for a time. His desires co-existing side by side would have lasted as long as a breath in the span of his lifetime.

There will be cost and Cassian understood the price.

He left the mezzanine and its sculptured delights behind. They were just statues, fixed to stand forever. Living things were meant to move.

The library was cooler than outside, filled with white marble columns and an expansive white marble floor making the space larger and lighter. Ivy weaved its way up the columns while the golden domed roof provided a welcoming warmth, counterbalancing the coolness of the stone.

Nesta was exactly where Cassian knew to find her, tucked away in her favourite loveseat under an arch in the romance section.

In the mountains Nesta told him how she spent her days in the Day Court; meals with Helion, walks with Helion, talks with Helion.

They all made Cassian’s stomach twist.

Nesta also told him she learnt to be alone with her thoughts. In those moments she went to the library, one of the few places she found comforting. There hadn’t been many safe spaces on offer to her in Prythian.

Cassian stood a small distance away behind one of the larger columns, folding his wings in as tight as he was able.

Nesta would always be one of the most beautiful females he’d ever seen. As she was now, with her head bent to her pages, she matched the statue above their heads; watchful and waiting.

Her face, smooth and still, could have been carved from stone, a testament to how expressionless she could be. If Cassian hadn’t experienced the passion, the sadness and the rage which existed underneath he would have believed she felt nothing at all.

Her cool voice carried across to him.

“Are you going to spend all your time lurking in the shadows?”

“I don’t lurk.”

Nesta looked over briefly, a delicate eyebrow raised, her pink lips downturned. Those blue-grey bore into him. She wasn’t in the mood for playing.

Cassian sighed and walked toward her. At least, he thought, Nesta shifted on the loveseat to make room for him. After their argument he thought she would be more inclined to try and beat him with the book she’d turned back to read.

They sat in strained silence. Nesta’s soft breaths out of sync with Cassian’s. She inhaled on his exhale. Everything was out of sync with them, even down to the core.

Cassian let out another sigh. Maybe he could fix this, re-set where they were going wrong. He shifted, his leg brushing against hers, so he could see her while he spoke.

“I was speaking with Helion,” he said.

Nesta kept her face to her book but raised an eyebrow again, “Oh.”

“Yes, in the garden.”

“Hmm,” she murmured and turned a page.

“He found me through one of his secret passageways.”

Nesta’s lips quirked into a small smile, “Now he’ll have to change it, so you don’t find it.”

“Yes, that’s what he said.”

“He has many that he’s always changing. I wouldn’t worry.”

“I’m not.”

The silence fell over them again like a fog. They’d reduced themselves to small talk between strangers, Cassian at a loss for what to say and Nesta with no desire to help him find his words.

“He found me in the statue circle.”

She was about to turn another page, although she hadn’t really been reading since he sat down, but her fingers stumbled and she dropped the book which landed with a thud.

Cassian picked it up, the gold embossed words on a cover of rich green telling a story of love. Nesta reached out and as she did, Cassian used his other hand to grasp her wrist, “Nes...”

She wouldn’t meet his eyes, her throat bobbing as she swallowed. “Let me go.”

It was a weak command, her voice shaking as she spoke but Cassian would always obey her will and he released her wrist. Nesta snatched at her book.

She didn’t open the cover, abandoning her pretence of reading and instead placed the volume on her lap, staring upwards towards the ceiling.

“I hate those statues,” she said.

“I know.”

“You have to visit them every time you’re here.”

“Not every time,” he replied but she turned, looking him in the eye.

“Yes, every time. I’ve seen you and I’ve felt you through the bond.” She looked away and started to trail the lettering on the cover with a fingernail. “Besides, Helion tells me you visit them a lot.”

Well, Helion is a spy and a snitch, Cassian wanted to say but bit those words down. This was Helion’s court and those were his garden’s, his statue’s. He went where he pleased and talked to whomever he pleased, and that, unfortunately, included Nesta.

“After our argument this morning I knew you would go there instead of coming to see me,” Nesta continued, “you and that damned circle.” Her voice cracked and she bent forward, placing her face in her hands so Cassian couldn’t see. Strands of hair fell from her crown braid over her forehead.

“Nesta,” he said, and Cassian took her wrists in his hands, gently pulling them away from her face.

Her face had blanched a stark white and the rims of her eyes were tinged pink. Despite the sheen of tears in them, Cassian knew she wouldn’t allow herself to cry. Nesta always found a way of shoving everything into a box in her soul.

“You all get to spend eternity gawping at each other in every Court in every form, don’t you?” She snatched her hands away, smoothing down the frayed hairs away from her face, wiping at her eyes.

“They’re just statues,” he said.

“I know,” she hissed, “Don’t be belligerent Cassian, we both know you’re too smart for that.”

“I’m not being-” but he stopped speaking and sat back against the marble wall, his wings hitting them with a bang.

Cassian closed his eyes, trying to think of what to say to make any of this better. He thought back to their argument in the bedroom, mere hours ago which felt like days, surrounded by excessive amounts of silk in various shades of pink.

“There’s a statue of you,” he said, envisaging it like some lost old memory and not something he had been staring at less than hour ago. The image was clear in his mind; the windswept hair, the upturned palms, that lovely but sad face with its hopeful, delicate smile.

“I know.”

“Do you like it?”

“Yes, I think I do.”

“It’s set apart from the others.”

Cassian heard the rustling of her dress as Nesta shifted. “Helion told me he wanted it separate from the rest because it didn’t suit the others.”

Cassian’s heart picked up its pace, “What do you think about that?”

“I agreed. The statue should be away from the rest. It doesn’t fit with the others.” Nesta let out a gentle sigh. “I don’t fit with the others.”

Cassian opened his eyes and stared into the distance.

The gardens were a labyrinth and the sunken library even more so, rows of white bookcases lined with vibrant colours, pastels or even shimmering golds stretched outwards until they stopped short of the central atrium, right underneath the top of the dome. The light shone through in beams and specks of dust danced amongst them.

They both sat rigid and unmoving with muscles locked into place and stared ahead, not at the rows of books but at the future in front of them, at decisions that would take them away or bring towards.

“Would that suit you?” Cassian asked, his voice thick. “Being apart from us? Elain? Amren? Me?”

Nesta’s fingers twitched on her lap, digging deep into the material of her skirts. “I don’t need to consider Amren in my plans and she knows this. Elain will understand in time; besides she has her own life now and gets to live the way she wishes so I don’t understand why I cannot.”

She paused. “Feyre will be irritated but she’ll come around in time. She’ll have to.”

“And me?”

The seconds of silence lasted longer than Cassian liked. There was no definitive answer, no immediate outpouring of emotion. His breath rasped in his ears and now he could hear Nesta’s, finally in time with his own. Her voice was quiet, travelling from a universe away.

“You can’t seem to understand why I don’t love the Night Court as much as you do so I don’t know whether you’ll come around in time.” Nesta picked at a loose thread on her dress. The more she pulled, the more it seemed she unravelled the sinews in his heart. “I don’t know how much longer I can wait until you do, if you do. I don’t heal in the Night Court; I can’t heal among those who hate me.”

Cassian wanted to reassure her; to say he would understand why she couldn’t love the Night Court, that eventually she would heal amongst the copper roof tops of Velaris and she was never amongst those who hated her. The words stuck in his throat and burned.

His love for the place he called home was built in his bones, constructed as part of him as he had wings on his back. Without his home he wouldn’t be Cassian of the Night Court, he wouldn’t be anyone.

“Helion has offered me a home here,” she continued.

Cassian nodded, his head bobbing on a neck that now felt too thin. Cassian understood Helion wanted to offer Nesta a home in Day, he wasn’t aware he already had. “Would you be happy here?”

“I think so.” Nesta let out a mirthless laugh, “Day is the opposite of Night and so the Court would suit me just fine.”

Something burnt inside his chest. His overworked, overwrought centuries old heart was now in flames and this was the beginning of it turning to ash.

“I can’t live in Day,” he said. “The Court is fine enough but this place would become to me what Night is to you. It wouldn’t sustain me.”

“We’re at an impasse then. The road ahead of us is splitting.” Nesta spoke the words with cold, impassive authority, the kind of tone she used for others which led them to assume she was a heartless creature.

But Cassian could feel her as he always had. A crack across her heart ran deeper than anything before. She’d been through hell and come out the other side carrying what pieces of herself remained within her clenched fists. This couldn’t be the event which broke her, he couldn’t be the fae that broke her.

Sacrifices, Helion told him less than an hour ago, needed to be made. But not all sacrifices needed to be a bad thing. Sacrificing something didn’t mean you would always lose; it may mean winning something more valuable.

“Yes,” he said, voice soft, “if you think the road only has two paths to choose from.”

Nesta took in his words, and Cassian could sense the moment they landed in her mind, how she sounded out their meanings. A strand of wavering hope rose between them.

“Oh,” she said but her voice held a tremor, the edge of anticipation she was clinging to and the thread wound itself tighter round her finger until her flesh turned white.

“I believe this morning an angry female hissed at me about retreating back to the mountains and staying in the cabin forever.”

Nesta pursed her lips. “Well, I believe the female had a right to be angry as I believe said female was being abandoned by her mate.”

“He would never.”

“Hmm.”

Cassian ran a hand through his hair, tugging at the roots. “I don’t want to leave them,” he said.

Nesta’s shoulders sagged and her hope dissipated from her like smoke. “I know,” she said, “I just-”

“However,” he interrupted, “that doesn’t mean I won’t leave them. At least on a semi-permanent basis.”

Nesta took a deep breath in.

“I can’t live here,” he gestured outwards to the marble pillars and trailing ivy and streams of violently bright light. “Day isn’t for me but Night isn’t for you. My life is in Velaris and I have responsibilities that I can’t leave and friends I want to see, but as long as I’m somewhere near, somewhere I can fly to them I think that will be fine.”

Nesta released her breath and Cassian carried on. “I can’t lose them Nesta but I won’t lose you. I’ve waited a long time for you even before I understood what I was waiting for. If Velaris will destroy you then at some point the city will destroy me too.”

He continued to stare ahead but Nesta’s arm brushed against his as she moved, her slight frame against his broad one. From the corner of his eye, he saw her pale face gazing at him and if he turned to her, he would see her hope anew.

“The cabin needs more work to make it habitable all year round and the winters are hard and isolating. I’ll need to fly to Velaris more often than you would want and you’re still going to have to visit your sisters. Honestly, I’d hate to make Elain angry.”

There was a soft sob next to him. “I’d hate to make Elain angry too,” but she smiled through her tears.

“We’ll have to think of a way to transport all your books. I’m not flying them to the cabin, not if you’re bringing that twelve book saga you’re into with the-”

Nesta grasped his chin in her slender fingers and turned his face to hers. Shining in those blue-grey eyes through the misty layer of tears was pure delight.

“Thank you,” she whispered and brought her mouth to his. The kiss was sweet on his lips, soft and slow and filled with the promise she would always love him. Cassian deepened the kiss, sliding his hands over her waist before trailing upwards on her back to tangle in her hair.

They stayed like that for a while, his tongue seeking out and sliding against hers; wet, luxurious kiss after kiss. Cassian groaned and gripped Nesta’s hips, fingers digging into the flesh beneath her dress and he swung her up and over onto his lap.

She pulled her mouth away and gasped, “No! Not here, not in front of the books!”

“The gardens then?” he joked and received a flick to his chin for his trouble.

“Helion will be disappointed.”

“That’s perverse.”

“No,” Nesta crinkled her nose, “that I won’t be making my home here.”

Cassian trailed his hands up Nesta’s back to her hair, tangling the strands around his fingers, looking forward to when he could make it took as disordered as her glorious statue’s. “Make this place your holiday destination. I’m sure you’ll frequent Day every time I’m in Velaris.”

“I’m sure you’re right.”

“And when we’re done appeasing the world we’ll be together again, at home.”

Nesta’s eyes scanned his face, the way Helion’s had done earlier, but instead of an assessment that had left Cassian found wanting, her eyes were soft and the blue-grey was the colour of the sky in the Night Court just after a storm.

“Yes,” she said, “at home.” She leaned in to kiss him again and before Cassian closed his eyes he soaked in the image, letting it burn forever into his mind. A perfect picture of Nesta in the flesh; her fluttering eyelashes, freckled nose and the sweetest smile he’d ever seen.  

#nessian #fanfiction #nesta archeron #cassian #nesta x cassian #nesta archeron x cassian #nesta #acotar #acomaf #acowar #acosaf #acosf #helion #i wrote something #nessian fanfiction #nessian fic #nessian fan fiction #nessianfic #nessian fan fic

[babybluebex]

washed in the blood [arvin russell x reader]

➽ pairing: arvin russell x fem!reader(y/n) ➽ word count: 2.8k ➽ summary: based on a request i got but deleted :( “if you’re still taking requests, can i request an arvin russell smut fic based on the scene where he gets picked up, but instead he’s picked up by the reader and her (soon to be) ex, she plans on breaking it off because he’s a sleeze, and arvin notices tension. one thing leads to another, and the two ditch the ex and have sex in the motel room” ➽ warnings: explicit language, ab*se mentions, de*th mentions ➽ a/n: full disclosure, i changed this to not have smut. lol. enjoy!

Hitchhikers were a normal thing for Ohio. In the rural parts, not too many people had cars, and buses didn’t run that far out, so people hitched rides wherever they could. Even if you were fortunate enough to have a car, there was a thrill about sticking your thumb out and seeing who you’d be riding with. My mother always tried to dissuade me from hitchhiking, but what she didn’t know wouldn’t hurt her, as far as I’m concerned. On the other hand, she never said anything about being on the other end of the deal. 

I loved picking up hitchhikers. Most times, they were yippies, trying to make their way to California. Even if you were just going as far as ten miles away from the pickup point, they were thankful. I got along with mostly everyone-- a superpower, my boyfriend called it-- and I could always find something to talk about. Where words failed, the radio helped. Music always got people talking, even if it was to talk about how much they hated the song. 

Meade, Ohio was a quiet place. I grew up there, so I guess that’s why I always talked so much: to fill the perpetual silence. As soon as I graduated from Meade Central High School, I gathered everything I owned (which wasn’t much), and headed out west towards Cincinnati. There wasn’t much there from what I’ve heard, but it had to be better than Meade. If there wasn’t anything for me in Cin City, I would go further west-- Indianapolis maybe, or perhaps further than that to Chicago. To get there, though, I had to get the fuck out of Ohio. 

The smoke from my cigarette danced out of my open window as I drove through the hills. My conversation with my mother was playing like a cracked vinyl in my head, her begging me to stay in Meade. I had asked what was here for me, and my mother had tightened her jaw. “Nothing, I suppose,” she had said. “With an attitude like that, there’s nothing for you anywhere.” With an attitude like mine, I argued back, the whole world was ripe for my taking. My mother had always been controlling. I couldn’t wear pants or smoke or even wear bright makeup, and seeing my friends do all of that and more was tortuous. Of course I loved my mother and knew that she was right, but I wanted to find that out for myself rather than being told that. I crested a hill, the radio crackling in and out as I lost the station, and I saw a man a few yards ahead of me. He held his body like it was a burden, his arm limp as he stuck his thumb out. As my car approached, he turned to look at me, and I slowed to a stop. A moment passed where his eyes locked with mine through the glass windshield, and he rushed to the passenger door. In he came, tossing his knapsack into my backseat, and he huffed out a tired sigh once the door was closed. 

“Where ya headed?” I asked. 

“Umm…” He began. His eyes fell to his lap, looking for an answer, and he finally said, “I dunno.” 

“Right,” I said. “I’m heading to Circleville, so if you got any place between here and there, just let me know.” 

The man nodded slowly. His cheeks were red, his forehead shiny with perspiration, and his tongue darted out to wet his dry lips. “Thanks,” he said. “I… I’m Arvin.” 

“Nice to meet you,” I said. “I’m Y/N.” I started the car back, continuing my journey to the last destination in my tour of Ohio. My boyfriend had found out about my flee, despite my attempts to try to slip away undetected, and he begged me to meet him in Circleville to at least say goodbye. He went to college in Columbus, hence why I chose Cincinnati instead. There was more in Columbus, but I wanted a place where nobody knew me to start over. “Fiddle with the radio if you want to. I’m not partial to any kind of music.” 

“Me neither,” Arvin said. There was a pause, then he reached forward and began to tune the radio. Channels faded in and out, Elvis and Beach Boys making varied appearances as my radio struggled to pick up a channel for more than a few seconds at a time, and finally it picked up a station. Church hymns. Sure. Arvin seemed satisfied with the selection, because he leaned back, and he tugged his blue baseball cap off. 

I could feel the stiffness radiating off of Arvin, and I rolled my neck as I tried to come up with something to say. I looked at my cigarette, the butt stained with the red lipstick that my mother had forbidden, and I held it out to him. “Want the rest?” I asked. “I’m feeling pretty finished, but I don’t wanna waste it, ya know?” 

“S’long as it ain’t an American Spirit,” Arvin mumbled and let out another huff, more of a laugh than before.

 “God, no!” I chuckled. “What kinda girl do you take me for, sir?” 

Arvin cracked the faintest smile, and he took the cigarette from my waiting hand. “Girls I went to high school with smoked shit like that,” he said and took a drag. “Just making sure I knew who I’m with.” 

“How long ago was that?” I asked. 

“Like…” Arvin began. “May.” 

“This May?” I asked, and Arvin nodded. “Neat. I just graduated too.” 

“Thank God, right?” Arvin mumbled, the cigarette now resting against his bottom lip. “Hated that place. I’d rather go to the fuckin’ war than go back to high school.” 

“Me too,” I said. “I got teased and pushed around all the time. Same for you?” 

Arvin shrugged. “I was fine,” he said. “My little sister, though… She got picked on. I got in trouble a lot for beating up her bullies, or getting beat up by them. I would do that a million more times, though, if it meant I could help her.” 

“How old is she?” I asked. “I only ask ‘cause I got a sister who just started high school.” 

Arvin shifted and tugged the cigarette out of his mouth. “She was sixteen,” he said. 

“Was?” I repeated. 

“She… Died,” Arvin said. “S’more complicated than that, but…” 

“Jesus Christ, Arv, I’m sorry,” I said quickly. “That… That really fucking sucks.”

“It does,” Arvin said. “She got killed.”

My jaw tightened as I tried to imagine the grief that this poor man had been through. My own heart hurt just from thinking of it. I would hurt anyone, except for anyone that hurt my sister. “Well,” I sighed. “Do you know who did it?” 

“Oh, yeah,” Arvin laughed. “I know.” 

“Did you go to the police?” I asked. 

“We don’t have police in Coal Creek, West Virginia,” Arvin told me. “Too small for it, and there’s hardly any need for them anyway.” 

I managed a weak laugh. “If I knew who it was that killed my little sister, they wouldn't be alive for much longer after that. I’d kill them myself.” 

Arvin nodded. He said nothing else. 

Eventually, the radio station came in clearer, signaling our entrance into Circleville. My boyfriend had specified where he wanted to meet me, and the gravel of the parking lot crunched under my car as I steered my way into the diner. “It’s been nice meeting you, Arvin,” I said. The brake squealed as I engaged it, and Arvin nodded before pulling his cap further down onto his head. 

“You too,” he said. “I’m gonna grab me something to eat real quick, then I’ll be on my way… Just didn’t want ya thinkin’ I was following you in there.” 

“I wouldn’t have minded if you were,” I shrugged. “Got any idea of where you’re going now?”

“Not yet,” Arvin said. “I’ll probably hitch a ride somewhere else. Maybe with someone who doesn’t listen to hymns in her free time.” 

“You put the station on!” I exclaimed with a giggle. “Don’t go blaming me!”

“You coulda changed it,” Arvin offered, stepping out of the car. He reached and grabbed his bag, and I rested my arms on the roof of my car. 

“You coulda kept looking for a different station,” I fired back. 

“You coulda kept your big mouth shut about music,” Arvin said. 

“I coulda left your ass on the side of the road,” I said. “But I didn’t.”

“But you didn’t.”

“But I didn’t.” 

Arvin gave me the first real smile I had seen from him, and he flicked the cigarette butt onto the ground. “Let’s get something to eat,” he said. “I could argue ‘bout this all day.” 

“You just might be able to,” I said. I grabbed my handbag from the floor of the car, and Arvin walked beside me into the diner. I spotted Harry immediately in the back corner, and I took a deep breath. The whole ride here, I knew that I was planning on ending things with him, but, now that I was here, I was doubting myself heavily. Could I survive in the world without a man there to fall back on? It seemed so impossible all of the sudden. I wanted to back away. Walk backwards and get back in the car and go back home. 

“Hey,” a gentle voice said from my side, and I turned to see Arvin still standing by me. “Whatever you’re gonna do, I can bet it’s better than anything I’ve ever done.”

“How do you know I’m gonna do anything?” I asked. “Maybe I’m just having lunch with my boyfriend.” 

“Right,” Arvin said slowly. “And that’s why your face went all white when you saw him.” He gave me a pointed look, then a quick wink, and he went to the counter to order. 

“Who was that?” Harry asked as I approached the table he was sat at. No hug or kiss or any greeting that a boyfriend would normally give; just an interrogation. 

“Hitchhiker I picked up,” I said. “We’re gonna head on to Cincinnati once we’re done here.” 

“Goddamn it, Y/N,” Harry sighed. “You’re still on this Cincinnati business?” 

“Why wouldn’t I be?” I asked. “It’s the only place for me.” 

“And what about me?” Harry asked. “What about here? We could have a life here, but you--” 

“We sure could have a life,” I told him. “But you have to start it, Harry. I’ve waited for you for years and I’m tired. I want my own life now.” 

“Were we supposed to get married when you were still in high school?” Harry asked. 

“Other girls got engaged,” I said. “Harry, I’m done. I… I don’t want whatever you want to give me. I want to be on my own, make my own name, ya know?” 

“Don’t tell me you’re one of those girls now,” Harry sighed, wiping his hand down his face. 

“I--” I started, then straightened up. “I don’t owe you an explanation for anything. I’m going to do what I want, and I am not sorry about it. You had your chance, but I’m done.” 

“Done?” Harry scoffed. “You’re not done. Not with me, not now.” 

“Yes, with you,” I said. “And, yes, now. I… I guess I’ll be seeing you around.” I got up from the table, trying to keep my cool, but Harry had other ideas. 

“No,” he said, and he grabbed my wrist tightly. “You’re not leaving me, you bitch.” 

“Watch me,” I told him, and I tried to pry my arm around him. “Let go of me.” 

“You’re gonna stay here with me,” Harry said. “You’ll never survive on your own.” 

“How do we know for sure if I don’t try?” I asked. 

“‘Cause you’re too dumb to anything for yourself,” Harry said. “You know it’s true. You’ll get eaten up in the real world. The world ain’t like Meade, it’s mean and it’ll kill you. You need to settle down with me, and I’ll do everything for you.” 

“You’re not gonna change my mind, Harry,” I said. “Get your stinkin’ hand off of me.”

Suddenly, there was a presence next to me, and I looked to see Arvin standing there. His face was as hard as stone, his jaw set firmly, and his brown eyes boring deadly holes into Harry. “I think,” he began with his deep gravel. “You oughta leave her alone.” 

“Who the hell are you?” Harry asked. “The hitchhiker?”

“I am,” Arvin said. “And I can be a lot worse. Leave her be, and I’ll leave you be.” 

“You’re a funny guy,” Harry chuckled. “C’mon, Y/N, let’s sit down and have some lunch.” 

Arvin was quiet as he pushed his jean jacket aside, and I felt my blood run cold at the sight. Tucked into the waistband of his denim pants was a wooden tool, one that was obviously the butt end of a handgun. Had he had that the whole time? I hadn’t noticed it when he was in the car next to me, but maybe he hadn’t wanted me to see it. “You need to let go of her,” Arvin said. “And let her leave. And you ain’t ever gonna talk to her again.” 

“Are you threatening me?” Harry asked. 

“Oh, it ain’t a threat,” Arvin chuckled lowly. “It’s a promise. I’ve done worse to men better than you.” 

“I bet,” Harry said. “You don’t have the gall to do it.”

“You wanna bet?” Arvin asked. “I’ve had a hard day. You’d make my tally a solid five.” 

“That’s hard to believe,” Harry scoffed. “Y/N--”

“No,” I said quickly. I had no reason to back Arvin on his ridiculous claim, but if it made Harry leave me alone… “Harry. He’s serious. You’re gonna wanna leave.” 

Harry looked from me to Arvin, then down to the gun. “Where did you find him?” Harry asked. 

“Why does it matter?” I asked. “Just go. Don’t call me, don’t worry yourself with me. Just leave me alone.” 

“A regular Bonnie and Clyde, huh?” Harry said softly. “I hope y’all find whatever you’re looking for in Cincinnati.” 

“We will,” Arvin said quickly, and he adjusted his jacket to cover the gun once more. “Have a good day now, ya hear?” 

I could hear my heartbeat in my ears as I moved myself back to the car, and I watched Arvin settle back where he was before the diner. My hand hovered by the ignition, my mind wanting me to put the keys in but my hand refusing to cooperate, and I finally swallowed. “Why you got a gun?” I asked. 

“You heard me,” Arvin said and sniffed. “Killed four people.”

“That’s real funny, Arv, but I’m being serious,” I said. 

“And why do you think I’m not?” Arvin asked. “I don’t care too much for lying.”

“Oh, but you’ll excuse killing?” I gasped. “Arvin, Jesus Roosevelt Christ! You haven’t really killed people, have you?” 

“You told me not an hour ago that you’d kill anyone who hurt your sister,” Arvin said, turning his gaze to me. “What makes you think that I wouldn’t do the same?”

“I don’t know!” I cried. “I… I don’t know. I just thought… Arvin, that was a joke.” 

“Not to me,” Arvin said. “He was a fucking bastard. He raped my sister and got her pregnant, and he didn’t want nothing to do with her. She trusted him, and he discarded her like trash, and she ended up hanging by her neck in our barn. The world is better off without that horse’s ass.” 

I chewed on my tongue. Was it better to know? Or was this knowledge a curse? I wanted to ask about the others he claimed to have killed; a morbid curiosity. “Get outta my car,” I whispered. Arvin laughed lightly, and I clamped my hands on the steering wheel. “I’m not joking, Arvin. Get out.” “

Why?” Arvin asked. “You worried I’m gonna kill you too?” 

“No,” I said. “But I make efforts to not associate with murderers. Get out of my car.” 

“I killed a sheriff too,” Arvin told me. “And two others, but all three of them were tryna kill me, so I think it was mighty justified. What do you think, darling?” 

Heat and ice battled inside my chest. I wanted to kick him out and leave him for the police to find, but I couldn’t do that. We had connected immediately, and there was no telling what else fate had in store for him. He was so obviously hurt. Maybe he needed somebody around. Maybe he wanted somebody around. He seemed to be trying awful hard to keep me around. I pushed, but he pulled. “You might’ve done it, but I can’t say I blame you,” I mumbled. “Still wanting to go to Cincinnati?” 

“Wherever you’re going, I am too.”

#arvin russell #tom holland #the devil all the time #tdatt #fanfic #arvin russell x reader #arvin russell x y/n #arvin russell angst #mine

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

General Hux x Female Reader/Kylo Ren x Female Reader

A/N: I have been in a world of writers block and my brain decided nothing I’ve been writing is any good 😬 but I’m hoping I’m over that now. I better be.

Warnings: mention of interrogation, RC is bound, some gore mention, imprisonment and a brief mention not many people would get unless they’ve read Bloodline or done some research into Leia.

Word Count: 4489

Masterlist

Read Chapter 18 here on AO3.

The white rushing lights did nothing to calm you, the pilot wouldn’t speak and you had no idea where you were going. Removing the helmet and dumping it at your feet, you sobbed silently, replaying the look on your husband's face over and over again. The way he stumbled, falling to the floor his eyes wide as the enormity of what he’d done came crashing down on him.

On one hand you wanted him to suffer, to feel the heartbreak of your loss and on the other you wanted to reassure him. But there had been no time, you had no idea Kylo was going to save you. He risked everything to send you to the ends of the Galaxy, to get you away from your sentence but you didn’t understand why? He just condoned the use of a new weapon on your home planet, in front of you taking and destroying everything you’d ever loved. To replace it with your freedom?

But you were alive, the shock of it numbed you knowing that you shouldn’t be here, you should be in the trash compactor instead of that poor trooper. You finally cried yourself into exhaustion dozing off in your seat but you had no idea for how long before the ship dropped out of hyperspace, jolting you back awake.

You could see a lush planet, the TIE glided into the atmosphere, all you could see were trees, massive trunks and wide leaves spanning the distance below you, but no buildings.

Proximity alarms exploded all round you, shattering the quiet and making your heart almost leap out of your chest. The gun controls lit up and you hesitantly put your hands on them, you had no idea how they worked or what you were even shooting at. You were terrified, the screaming whine of the alarms split your mind in two and you desperately wished you were anywhere else. The ship jolted, dragging a soft scream from your constricted chest and you gripped onto your seat as the TIE began to spin. You closed your eyes not wanting to see the flash of blue and green as the whole ship spiralled towards its doom, wishing this ride would end soon or you were going to be sick.

Panic wound its way through your body making you hold your breath in the hope the pilot would regain control of the ship. Another blast made the control panel in your face explode and you screamed in pure fear, trying to shield yourself from the sparks and heat that threatened to burn you.

The TIE crashed, ploughing into the soft ground and gauging the earth as it carved a path through the large trees until finally rolling to a stop. The chassis ticked loudly, the durasteel cooling after the intense heat it had endured, the viewport had shattered over you, earth and flora had made its way into the cockpit and you tried to turn and check on the pilot but the harness trapped you. Fighting against your straps you began to sweat, the humidity of the planet creeping up on you in the clumsy trooper armour, it was almost too much but you knew you had to get out as the heat increased. The sound of flames licking their way towards you made you renew your efforts to escape, finally releasing the catch on your harness you managed to start climbing out. A hand grabbed the collar of your armour, hauling you with strength and throwing you onto the spongy ground. You coughed, struggling to catch a breath, squinting against the bright light as it filtered through the green leaves. The TIE exploded behind your saviour, making him a silhouette against the flames, his outfit ruffling in the heated breeze that rushed over you both. The barrel of the blaster rested on your breastplate and you cried out in fear.

“Don’t shoot!!” You managed to choke out.

“Why shouldn’t I?” You’d heard that voice before. It would forever be ingrained in your memory.

“Because you’re Commander Poe Dameron.”

A noise dragged his attention behind him, the pilot had managed to free himself from the wreckage before it exploded and was stumbling through the undergrowth. Poe moved to aim with his blaster.

“No wait!” You shouted. The pilot was severely injured, half his helmet had been blown away revealing burned skin and a bloodshot gaze, he was holding his arm and it could have been broken or dislocated. His red eye fixed on you.

“Did we reach our coordinates?” He rasped. You didn’t want to answer, you knew what was coming.

“Hey pal, you look pretty banged up there. How about you put your blaster down and we can get you some help?” Poe called out, his brow furrowed with deep lines.

“Did we…?” He coughed, his body shaking from the effort.

“Yes!” You sobbed loudly and watched with horror as the pilot reached for his blaster.

“Buddy! That’s not a good idea!” Shouted Poe raising his arm but he wasn’t quick enough, the pilot pulled his blaster free and shot himself. You screamed loudly, knowing that image was going to be stuck in your mind for a long time. Your body went limp, letting Poe drag you roughly, hauling you away from the death and destruction that seemed to follow you. Is this what the Galaxy was like? All death and endings? This war was ripping the very fabric of everything, so many lives lost and you blamed the Resistance. Your hurt had stemmed from their actions, their disregard for anything except themselves and their need to stop the Galaxy falling under the rule of the First Order. Your thoughts faded away as your mind tried to close itself off, you were in enemy hands now and Kylo had put you here.

You turned to see the door open and Commander Dameron strode in, he was looking at a datapad and holding a piece of bread that he was chewing on. His foot kicked the door and it closed behind him with a loud hiss. He settled himself opposite you, still not acknowledging you even when you moved, making your shackles clank loudly against the chair. You waited expectantly for him to say something, instead he took a large bite of the bread tutting when the crumbs littered his shirt. You watched in disbelief as he brushed himself down before picking up the datapad again, the screen reflecting in his eyes.

“Are these really necessary?” You asked, wincing at the loudness of your voice and noise of the chain links as they fed through the chair.

“Yep.”

“Oh, you do speak then.” To your annoyance he shrugged and flicked through the pad some more. “Are you going to interrogate me?” When he refused to answer you sat back and crossed your arms with a sigh. You should have known he was going to be insufferable from the gleeful tone and glint in his eye you’d seen previously. That holo-image from the datastick will forever be imprinted in your memory and it made you dislike him intensely. You watched as he shoved the last bit of bread in his mouth, trying to ignore the stabbing pains in your stomach not remembering the last time you ate or drank anything. You thought back to your last meal, the prisoner rations weren’t exactly mouthwatering, but you’d eat some right now.

Your expression fell as you recalled the way Armitage had sagged against the wall, his expression one of shock and your heart pounded wildly. You had nearly broken the cover that Kylo had gone to great lengths to provide, the need to rush to Hux had been overpowering even though he had just uttered those devastating words in your cell, telling you your life was about to end. You had convinced yourself he had no choice, he had been backed into a corner as much as you had, forced to make these decisions he shouldn’t have been making. You frowned again at the noise of the chains when you went to blot your eyes, the noise alerting Poe to your change of emotion and he studied you with interest.

“Are you hungry?” You looked at your hands in your lap not wanting to let him know you were absolutely starving but also not sure how much longer you could keep yourself upright if you didn’t eat. “I’ll get you something.” It wasn’t until he disappeared that you realised he’d left his datapad on the table. You sat up slightly, seeing there were no cameras, no two way mirrors, no droids, nothing to say anyone was watching you. The chains clinked when you reached for it, your fingertips brushing the corner but not even enough to move it, a growl of frustration left you and you tried again. The pain of the chains cutting into your wrist did nothing to dissuade you, but the sound of the door reopening made you slump back in your seat.

“Ten out of ten for effort.” He stated calmly, sliding a tray of bread, fruit and water in front of you.

You grimaced to yourself, shaking your head.

“That was a test.”

“If you like,” he replied nonchalantly. You looked at the food, your mouth watering and your stomach heaved at the sight of it wanting you to eat it but your pride made you not reach for it. Poe wasn’t watching you, his gaze once more looking at the datapad with curiosity and you found yourself wondering what he was looking at. Information on you? Reports on the destruction of Arkanis? Maybe they had a whole file on you and Hux and he was flicking through your wedding holographs. Did you even have holographs? You honestly couldn’t remember. You frowned as you realised they hadn’t even asked your name, after the incident with the pilot you had been dragged back here and that was it.

“Why am I still alive?” You blurted out.

“I do the questions around here,” he mumbled. His brow dragged down at something on the screen and he huffed with annoyance.

“Maybe you should try asking me some?” No response. You fidgeted, hating the way he was making you feel. Awareness prickled down your arms knowing this must be a Resistance approved technique for interrogation and you hated it. You felt exposed, vulnerable, completely at this man’s mercy as he paid you no mind and yet, you felt yourself wanting to get his attention.

“What?” You jumped at his loud exclamation of surprise, dread pooling in your belly, what he was looking at was clearly not good news. “You’re such a cheat Finn!” He snarled, slamming the pad down and rubbing his face. You watched the curls bounce back to his forehead after his fingers had left them trying to figure out what was happening. “Are you going to eat that?” He asked, dragging your attention back to the food. ”Fresh food doesn’t come to us often. Don’t waste it.”

“What did you do? Steal it from a First Order supply ship?” You were trying to be sarcastic, but the look he gave you told you everything you needed to know. “Oh, of course. It’s what you people do.” He cocked an eyebrow and rested his chin on his upturned hand, finally paying you the attention you seemed to want.

“You people?” He inquired. You shook your head, suddenly wishing he would stop staring at you with those rich brown eyes. “You should eat.” He stated forcefully and you found yourself complying. Your bound hand reached for the bread, taking a chunk off and carefully putting it into your mouth. You tried to hold back the tears at the taste, it was glorious, so fresh and soft it reminded you of eating in Armitage’s quarters, sharing food on the Finalizer…you looked up at the ceiling trying to stem the flow of more tears knowing that you were now being watched closely. “You ok?” Poe asked softly.

“Oh sure. I’m perfect,” gripping the bread tightly you ground your teeth together in an effort to contain what was bubbling up inside you but it was useless. “I was sentenced to death, my homeworld was blown up, my husband…my husband…” you swallowed. Trying to force the emotion away but it just came back up your throat with more force. “That poor pilot didn’t even know what hit him!” You sobbed, remembering that awful scene that no doubt was laying forgotten on the jungle floor. “And Kylo risked everything to get me out, Armitage’s face…oh Armitage!” The sobs were heavy on your chest, forcing their way out between your words. “And now I’m here, with you.” You finished with venom. Poe looked at you with a stony expression clearly not wanting to stop your flow of words. “You! You started this whole thing! Placing that datastick in my chest I had no idea what it was? How dare you! I didn’t do this! I am no spy! My allegiance is to the First Order!” You were shouting, your bound hands pointing aggressively at him across the table as your face twisted with hatred. “I will not answer your stupid non questions, I won’t play this game.”

“That’s ok,” he said calmly, picking up the datapad and smirking. “You already gave me most of what I wanted.”

“I hate you!” You screamed loudly, ripping your throat as he sauntered past you. “Let me out! Just kill me! Don’t leave me here alone!” Fresh sobs spilled over and the chains settled loudly as you slumped in your seat. A fit of rage made you swipe the tray off the table with a loud cry, the cup bouncing loudly and spilling its contents, the bread was thrown with force and it exploded against the far wall. You screamed again, pulling heavily on your chains until your body decided that was enough. “Please don’t leave me here alone,” you whispered.

You had no idea how long you were imprisoned for, but everyday Poe would come and sit in your small room. You lay on the bed, your back to him every time, refusing to speak or move and yet whenever he left, the door hissing closed behind him you found yourself turning, wishing he’d come back. When you were alone the feelings that filled you were the worst, the hatred at yourself, the loss of your planet, the grief at the end of your marriage. You had searched your room for anything sharp to end your suffering, to quiet the thoughts that shouted loudly into the silence of your mind but there was nothing.

You had fallen asleep in the corner of your room, probably sobbed yourself to sleep like you normally did but you didn’t have time to crawl into your bed before Poe was entering your makeshift prison. He paused, seeing you in a different position had thrown him slightly even though he covered the surprise well.

“Is the bed not good enough anymore?” He asked with a hint of amusement, placing your usual tray of food down but you already felt the barriers slipping back into place and you refused to acknowledge he’d said anything at all. Your gaze grew fuzzy and your eyes lost focus, mentally drawing yourself inwards so you wouldn’t have to deal with his chatter or hesitant questions. You heard him sigh as he sat down in his usual seat. “You can’t ignore me forever.” I can. “Would you like to play a game?” No. “There’s a version of Sabacc I can access, you can help me against Finn and Rey. I swear they cheat.”

Rey.

That name made you stir from your reverie.

Rey.

That jedi, the one who had scarred Kylo, killed Snoke, helped destroy Starkiller, obliterated the First Order fleet.

That Rey.

“Rey.” Poe paused when you spat her name. “I hope she knows the…trouble she caused us.” It was the most you’d spoken since that stint in the interrogation room, your voice was raspy from disuse and you found yourself getting up for the water. You were lost in memories that all blended together, the voices and sounds trickling through your mind but the finer details were smudged. Poe’s mouth was open, no longer containing the surprise he felt at the change in you.

“You caused us trouble too,” he countered and you looked up to give him a scathing glance. “Anyway, I have someone who wants to meet you.”

“Is it Rey? Because I might scratch her eyes out,” you spat. “Don’t forget my chains,” you snapped sarcastically, holding up your hands up waving them slightly. He moved, gathering his datapad and leather jacket.

“It’s not Rey. I’ll be back later.” He said in a rush before leaving the room. You grabbed the bread, chewing it quickly knowing that you were going to need your strength. The only other person who would want to talk to you would be someone you’d never met in person before but someone you knew. Yes, you’d like to talk to her.

You paced in your small space until you were exhausted, your body not used to the increased movement meant you tired quickly and you found yourself eating everything on the tray before Poe returned.

The hours all bled into one another until he entered with another tray and you grabbed it off him, eating whatever hot food this was not caring at the bland taste. You eyed him when he leaned his arms on the back of the chair, facing you. His leg spread either side of the chair in a relaxed position as he leaned forward. You took him in, really studied him like you were seeing him for the first time. He was well built, tanned, his curls an unruly mess on top of his head. He wore a white shirt, the collar upturned and the buttons undone allowing a glimpse at his chest, his leather trousers were tight and tucked into his boots. A blaster was strapped to his thigh, the holster sat low on his hips, his knee jigged slightly and you sighed between mouthfuls.

“Got something to say, Dameron?”

“Well I was appreciating you seem to have your appetite back and didn’t want to interrupt.”

“Just spit it out.” He spread his hands.

“Well, she would like to talk to you today if you’re up for it.” You put your fork down and took a sip of water as you thought over what he’d said. Clearing your throat slightly before pushing your now empty tray away.

“Let’s get this over with,” you said, holding out your wrists ready to be cuffed.

“You promise to behave?” He asked dryly.

“I’m sure if I misbehave I’ll get shot,” you retorted. He approached, wrapping the cuffs around your wrists and checking they weren’t too tight before clipping them shut.

“We’re not the First Order,” he replied softly. “You could have a place here.”

“Don’t make promises you can’t keep,” you mumbled.

“I’m sure you’ll feel differently soon enough.” You followed him obediently, his hand firmly gripping your cuffs as he led you out of the room and you got to see the base properly for the first time.

It wasn’t what you expected at all, a CR90 Corvette class ship was settled in a huge cave, providing a sheltered hideout for the Resistance. Large power lines were fed from the ship to consoles that dotted the clear space near the grounded ship. As you looked curiously around you could see makeshift beds, all placed haphazardly along the vast cave wall, sectioned off to offer some sort of privacy. Some had workbenches and storage crates with the small beds and it hit you that this was all the Resistance had. Then why could you not defeat them?

They had been beaten down, the New Republic was gone so they lost their backing and the main bulk of their fleet, half of the Resistance had been wiped out at the Battle of Crait and yet here they were. Surviving like the bottom feeders of the Galaxy they were. It astounded you, maybe even awed you that they were still having some sort of sway in this war. Your lip curled as you followed Poe over the uneven ground, how could these people offer the Galaxy something better than the First Order? Surely they couldn’t, they could barely feed themselves resorting to stealing and sneaky tactics, how could they offer the Galaxy stability and equal standing?

You were led aboard the Corvette, ignoring the stares and whispers that followed you from the cavern. If Kylo refused to end the Resistance then you would try and open eyes this side of the battle. All you knew was the Galaxy was ripping apart and it was time to stop.

You let Poe manoeuvre you into a chair, the room was white and pristine containing two chairs and a table, he took your bindings off and you rubbed your wrists out of habit. The door opened behind you but you kept your eyes trained on the surface of the table not wanting to look upon the woman who had entered the room. You heard her dismiss Poe before settling in the vacant chair opposite you, the silence that followed was mutual, her dark eyes studied you as she leaned on the table, her hands clasped together. You let her scrutinise you, did she know?

“Are you just going to sit there Princess?” You asked softly, breaking the silence. Her posture straightened giving you the reaction you desired.

“It’s been a while since anyone used my royal title, I go by General now,” her voice was calm and steady when she spoke.

“I apologise it’s force of habit,” you confessed softly, now letting your eyes rise to settle on her. She looked tired, her face lined, her dark hair greying in its delicate Alderaan style. Her eyes were dark and familiar, but softer in their appearance than what you were used to looking at and realisation trickled gently down your spine. “I know who you are, Princess Organa but do you know who I am?”

“Lady Hux, married to General Armitage Hux of the First Order.”

“He got promoted to Grand Marshal…” you corrected her with a frown.

“And demoted back to General, albeit recently.” The news shocked you, making you realise that Kylo had indeed taken everything from you both.

“He promoted Pryde,” you whispered, noting Leia bowed her head in acknowledgment. You sneered in disgust, your heart pounding at the idea of Armitage having to answer to such a foul man. A man who was capable of terrible things with his bare hands. You tried to bring yourself back to your situation, you couldn’t help Hux now, only yourself. “Kylo knows where you are,” you stated.

“He has other battles to fight at the moment,” she commented like the news didn’t shock her.

“With your Jedi,” you spat. Leia’s dark eyes pierced you, her posture never faltering for a moment.

“I feel you don’t like me very much,” she observed and you wished you didn’t have to spell it out for her. You sucked in a breath, it was slightly exhilarating knowing something the great leader of the Resistance did not.

“Our families have history, but you probably paid no heed to the ripples your actions would have caused.”

“I am well aware of…”

“Are you?” You demanded cutting her words short. “My aunt was Carise Sindian.” You took a moment to enjoy the micro expressions that flew across Leia’s face, the realisation as she worked out the finer details of your statement. “You stripped her of her royal standing and so her family was ostracised, I was lucky to land the husband I did but, his father did know my father. Favour for a favour,” you looked back down at your hands. In your mind's eye you replayed the moment Arkanis was destroyed, the red light forever tormenting your nightmares. “None of that matters now,” you said softly.

“You are still a part of Arkanis. The part that lives.”

“I don’t want to be all that’s left.” This wasn’t how you wanted the conversation to go, you came into this with confidence but here you were fighting back tears, the thought of Arkanis was still raw and painful, a loss you were sure you’d never recover from. Leia leaned forward like she wanted to reach for you in comfort.

“I was there, watching when Alderaan was destroyed. I know the strength of the hurt you feel.”

“That is where our similarities end, Your Highness.” She withdrew, a blank mask falling across her face. “Do you think you can do it?” You asked, trying to distract yourself.

“Do what?” You smirked hoping it would cover the shine of tears in your eyes.

“Win. I saw your setup out there, hoping a few criminals and relics of the old days are enough to go against the might of the First Order.” She regarded you with a firm look as though you were a petulant child and it aggravated you.

”We are doing our best,” she replied.

“And what happens when you win? If you blow the First Order from the Galaxy what happens next?” You leaned forward, catching a glimpse of uncertainty in her eyes. You took her silence as her answer and continued. “So you don’t have a plan? The First Order has a plan, to offer aid, to control the crime and chaos that spreads across the Galaxy. To stop children starving in the streets, can you offer the Galaxy that, Leia?” Now she leaned forward an almost triumphant look on her face when she replied.

“What do these people get in return for such selfless acts? Military occupation. Enlisted into mining camps, the children pulled off the streets away from families to become stormtroopers…”

“Troopers with full bellies!” You shot back and she shook her head.

“How can you be so blind?” She snapped.

“I am not the one who’s blind! You refuse to see that the First Order wishes to bring equality to the Galaxy. Killing the rotten bureaucracy and petty politics!”

“They seek control! And with control comes corruption!” She almost shouted. “I have seen what power does to people. The Empire made the same promises that the First Order are and Palpatine didn’t follow through on any of them! He ruled with an iron fist taking more lives than he saved…” you stood. Rage at her words making you go against your better judgement.

“Kylo is not Palpatine!” You shouted, slamming your hand onto the table. Leia sat back slowly, an unreadable expression on her face.

“How can you be so sure?” She asked quietly, her eyes boring into yours in almost a challenge as though she had already made up her mind about the Supreme Leader.

“Because he saved me.”

#general hux x female reader #general hux x reader #Star Wars #echoes of the heart #armitage hux x female reader #armitage hux x you #general hux fanfiction #kylo ren x female reader #leia organa #poe dameron #general hux x you #armitage hux x reader #my writing #mylifeisactuallyamess #kylo ren x you #kylo ren x reader

[youvebeenlivingfictional]

I’m Always Curious Part Eleven

Previous Part | Next Part |  Masterlist Notes: Not beta-read. I hope everyone is well!! Thank you to everyone that’s read/liked/reblogged/replied! I really appreciate it! Warnings: Some angst because clearly we haven't had enough of that in this story so far. Summary: I felt my heart slam against my rib cage at the mention. He was feigning ignorance, but he and I both knew that he was very familiar with my name. Spargo wasn’t some senile old-timer that had to strain to relive his greatest victories and his most devastating losses.

Wary of turning up late after my utter shame of an attempted apology to Pike, I arrived at the ready room only to find it devoid of the Captain himself. Spargo was there. He made an imposing sight -  hands clasped behind his back as he peered out of the window, his greyed hair combed back to reveal a high forehead and an almost blocky profile. “A-Admiral,” His gaze, laser-sharp and flinty, fixed on me. I felt myself straighten further, hands clasping behind myself as I hurried to add, “I apologize, I didn’t know anyone was in here--” “Quite alright, lieutenant,” Spargo cut me off with a wave of his hand. I took a couple of steps further into the room, looking around. I wasn’t sure if this was better or worse than being alone than Pike at the moment.

“If I may say so, lieutenant, your name,” The Admiral said, watching me, “Is rather familiar.” I felt my heart slam against my rib cage at the mention. He was feigning ignorance, but he and I both knew that he was very familiar with my name. Spargo wasn’t some senile old-timer that had to strain to relive his greatest victories and his most devastating losses. “My father was a diplomatic attaché for the Federation, sir.” Spargo hesitated, then nodded once. “I believe I worked with him once. Conflict resolution on Sorrel. Quick thinker, smart man.” “It runs in the family,” I heard Una speak up behind me and I ducked my head at the compliment. I glanced back at her, offering a small nod of thanks. “The Captain is waiting for you in the transporter room,” She added. -- Save for the single antenna that rose from the right side of their forehead, Larilians looked as human as Pike and Spargo and I. I knew I likely wouldn’t get to see any of the planet, really, and it frustrated me. It was the second time I’d been on Larilia and I wouldn’t get to see anything. Alright, so that wasn’t entirely true. I would be in the room that the negotiations took place in this time. Una had set expectations with me once I’d come down from some of my mortification (of whose source I had refused to explain). This would not be a single day’s worth of negotiating. She expected we would be on Larilia for at least a week. By the end of the second day of negotiating, I was certain that we’d be there for at least a month. The leaders of the two warring sides were sisters; there had been a dispute when their mother, the former leader, had passed away, and left no clear heir between the twins, Choholl and Chihurs. The two had been unable to come to a peaceful resolution; the family, politicians, and the planet had taken sides. Through me, Spargo tended to lead the conversation; when Pike interjected, it was for clarification. We’d been equipped with PADDs that Pike, Spargo and I could communicate through; it was easier for the two of them to message me and for me to voice it directly rather than have them ask the question and for me to repeat it. By the third day, though, it looked like the week might right on target. Choholl and Chihurs had reached a point of agreement in regards to a territory on Somonia, the planet’s moon, and the home of the processing plants for Larilia’s greatest export: nickel. It was incredibly rare in that area of the Beta Quadrant; the plants employed nearly a third of the Larilian population. Choholl, having declared that the export paid handsomely but was of little value to her, had declared that the territory could go to Chihurs. My PADD pinged with a single word from Spargo: Dissuade. My first instinct was to repeat the word, but I knew that that was wrong. I glanced in the Admiral’s direction, frowning. He gave a nod toward the message, brow arching when I didn’t speak up. I gave a small head shake and Spargo cleared his throat, drawing attention to him. He quickly tapped out another message, suggesting a break. I lifted my head, looking between Choholl and Chihurs, drawing their attention, and repeating the Admiral’s suggestion. I saw Pike shift on the other side of me. “We’re finally getting somewhere,” he argued. “Best not push it,” Spargo’s tone was short as he pushed his chair away from the table, along with Choholl, Chihurs, and their advisers. Pike stayed behind in the negotiating room, citing his need to contact the Enterprise to check in. I was tempted to stay planted, but the Admiral tapped a finger on my shoulder. I pushed myself up, following him out of the room and into our adjoining waiting room. I stayed near the door as it slid shut behind me. Spargo had already made his way to the other side of the room and was peering out of the window. “Do you disobey Pike regularly?” “Excuse me?” I asked. “I gave you an order in there, lieutenant, and you disregarded it,” Spargo turned to me. “Telling me to dissuade them from the only agreement that they’ve managed to make during the course of these talks seems like a bad move.” “Lieutenant,” Spargo’s voice was patronizing, “It is in the Federation’s best interest that the nickel processing plants go to Choholl and not to Chihurs.” “I think it’s more in the Federation’s interests that the two warring sides reach a peace.” “Do you think that this is the way that wars are fought and won? Do you think that this is how your father went about this? --Let me tell you something about your father.” I fought the urge to shrink away as Spargo stalked across the room. “He was a strong negotiator because he understood that in some cases, there would be losses-- There will always be a winner and a loser. You think your father never chose the Federation’s priorities over a planet’s well-being? You think he was entirely objective on Sorrel?” I dug my nails into my palms as I kept my gaze steadily on Spargo’s. My time in Starfleet had been largely untarnished by my father’s reputation, but his slip-up on Sorrel had been lingering in the back of my mind as I acted as the conduit between the two warring parties, the Captain, and the Admiral. Spargo stopped in front of me, the twist of his mouth cruel. “It’s unfortunate that you’ve taken no pains to learn from his mistakes. He didn’t listen to me at that table, either. His willfulness resulted in the escalation of a tensions and resulted in thousands of lives lost--” “That seems like an issue that you should’ve taken up not only with the Federation, but with my father. If you wish to speak with him about an error in judgement, Admiral, I can give you a reliable way to contact him once our mission here is completed.” “What’s going on?” Neither the Admiral nor I turned toward the Captain at the sound of his voice; I had no way of knowing how long he’d been there, but I couldn't imagine the Admiral would’ve continued berating me if he’d known that Pike was just a few feet away. “...The lieutenant and I were just having a conversation regarding strategy,” Spargo watched me still, daring me to contradict him. I couldn’t if I tried; my tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth. “I need to have a word with the Captain, lieutenant. If you’ll excuse us,” the Admiral added, nodding toward the door. I was in no place to object - if anyone was, it was Pike, but I didn’t want him to. I wanted out of that room as quickly as possible. I turned from the Admiral and strode out of the room. I must’ve passed too closely to Pike, because I felt his knuckles whisper across the back of my hand as I passed him. I was able to hold it together as I walked down the hall to my quarters on-world. I pressed my thumb to the identification pad and the door ‘swished’ open and shut behind me. I couldn’t stop breathing heavily. Anyone that had seen me could’ve passed it off as the speed I’d left the room with, how quickly I’d hurried down the hall. I tried to talk myself into thinking that, too, but the anger overtook me faster than the lie could. My breathing turned to wheezes; my fingers fumbled clumsily at my collar like they were sausages and not the dexterous digits that spent hours at a console working at comms and translations. I managed to work my collar open and unzip the jacket before I shucked it off, tossing it onto the bed in my temporary quarters. My heart had lodged itself in my throat, pounding at triple-time as I paced about my room. I knew that sitting down and taking deep breaths wouldn’t solve this; I was too enraged to just put on my Spock-cap this time, I couldn’t logic my way into calm. I braced myself against the windowsill, peering outside. What could I see? I could focus on that. Streets, trees, people. People that could be hurt if I didn’t do well - if I didn’t follow orders. I turned away from it, leaning back against the window instead. I could focus on something else. Definitions. Vulcan. I could put on a Spock cap in some estimation. Be’. Beside. At the side of, in comparison with. What was Spargo telling Pike? Be’. By. Close to, next to. About me, no doubt-- my father, my insubordination. He could’ve mentioned this to Pike before I’d been assigned. Maybe he had. Maybe Spargo had talked Pike into choosing me, not only because of the briefing that I’d given them, but because he thought that he could hang your father’s history over me.  Be’es. A proximity. The state of, the quality of, or the fact of being near or next to. “Visitor: Captain Pike.” My head lifted at the sound of the computer. I took in a deep breath. I’d managed to calm myself down, some. Pike was probably coming to tell me that Thaleh would be taking it from there. I pushed off of the window and reached out, picking up my jacket and putting it back on. I zipped up my collar and tucked a finger into it, stretching it a bit. I opened the door, facing Pike head-on. His eyes searched my face for a moment before he said, “They’re ready for us.” I nodded a little, swallowing thickly. “Let’s go, then,” I said. -- The remainder of the day moved on without any further conflict between myself and Spargo. I translated his and the Captain’s messages verbatim; Choholl and Chihurs negotiated a de-escalation of combat in the Bronzehill region of the planet. Pike and Spargo returned to the Enterprise to dine there (Admiral Cornwell had beamed aboard to discuss progress). I stayed behind on the planet, venturing out onto the building’s deck. I had changed out of my uniform; my badge and communicator were in my pocket, just in case. “You are out quite late.” I straightened at the sound of Larilian-lilted Federation Standard. My brows rose at the sight of Chihurs drifting toward me. “I-- Forgive me, highness, I didn’t know that this area is off-limits--” “It is not, Voxi.” Pronounced voh-ksi, it was the Larilian word for ‘translator’, and the term that I had become accustomed to being referred to as over the last few days. I gave a small nod as Chihurs came to stop beside me, peering out over the city. Where I had been letting my mind go quiet, I was suddenly stiff, and panicked. How did one act around a royal? “Have you been through Willfall before?” Chihurs gestured toward the city. I shook my head a little. “I haven’t had the pleasure, no.” “You speak as a native.” I smiled a little at the compliment. “I… My father was here, many years ago, and I was with him. Someone was assigned to watch me for the week that we were here, and I learned as much as I could. I always liked the language, I thought it sounded like music.” “You’ve quite the ear for it, as did your father, voxi.” I felt a chill run through me as I turned to get a better look at Chihurs. “You knew my father?” Chihurs gave a single nod. “I remember his speech on the behalf of the Federation. It was… Hopeful. Far more hopeful than either Choholl or I were at the time.” “...Do you miss her?” I was afraid to ask, but the looks that the sisters had shared over the last few days had made me wonder. Chihurs’ antenna twitched. “Every day,” Her answer was quiet, her voice, thick with sorrow, “Every day I wonder how much longer we’ll have to endure this.” Larilians tended to live long lives; the average lifespan of a Larilian was 197 years. At nearly 99, the twins seemed to have at least another century of fight looming ahead of them. The look on Chihurs’ face told me that she didn’t have it in her. “She misses you, too,” I offered, “It’s plain in the way that she speaks, and the--- The moon, Somonia, when she gave it to you, when you accepted…Her eyes seemed to light up at seeing you happy.” Chihurs didn’t answer me at first, and I was sure I’d overstepped. “What do you think of our chances?” She asked finally. I reached up, rubbing at the back of my neck, unsure as I fixed my eyes on an arena not too far off. “I don’t know, I’ve never been to anything like this. At least-- not in an official capacity. But… Well, I’ve been in the room of negotiations that have gone downhill, or simply remained stagnant. The air always feels stifling, close, like-- Like they’re waiting for lightning to strike. It doesn’t feel like that to me.” “It has before,” Chihurs admitted, “It is odd to feel a channel so open between myself and Choholl after all of this time.” “Has it made you hopeful?” Chihur’s violet eyes settled on mine for a few moments. “It… Has started to. For the first time in over twenty years, I have been in a room with my sister with minimal biting words, with few arguments. We’re closer to a conflict resolution than we have been in a long time, thanks to you, and your Admiral and your Captain.” I nodded a little bit. “Captain Pike and Admiral Spargo know what they’re doing.” “And you?” “I’m...Just following their lead.” Chihurs raised a brow. “Do not do yourself the disservice of assuming your contribution is limited to your voice, voxi. You are quicker than you think.” I frowned, waiting for Chihurs to elaborate, but she straightened without another word, walking back into the building. I stayed on the balcony for a while longer. Part of me was itching to beam up to the Enterprise to speak with Una, but another part of me was determined to sort through this myself. Further open defiance of the Admiral could land me a court marshall, but an order to favor a side without cause didn’t fly with me. Tag list: @angels-pie​

#I'm Always Curious #captain pike #captain pike x reader #Captain Pike/Reader #Captain Pike Imagine #Christopher Pike #christopher pike/reader #christopher pike x reader #christopher pike imagine #Christopher Pike/You

[treestargarden]

vent post bc i fuckin love Don from the promised neverland. 

character analysis below the cut

personality:

we don’t see much of Don until episode 4, but there are a few things about his personality we can infer up to this point. 

1) Don is very close with the younger children of the house

2) Don was exceptionally close to conny

this first screenshot is taken from the last few seconds of the opening where Don is the only older child grouped with younger children. this relationship dynamic hasn’t really been given a lot of spotlight outside of the opening or the first few minutes of episode 1 when Don is seen holding conny when emma greets them. 

other than his close relationships with the younger children, we can see that Don has a very similar personality to emma. he’s carefree, extroverted, and tends to hope for the best in situations. 

when emma reveals the “truth” that the children are being trafficked, Don’s response is to laugh, because he honestly doesn’t believe such a terrible thing could be true. he’s lived his whole life in grace field, established important relationships with the children, and without a doubt loves his whole family. 

but then emma doesn’t reveal that she is tricking him, and Don quickly becomes concerned. a small tangent, but lets discuss ages for a brief moment. 

1) norman reveals that the younger a child is, and the lower the test scores, the sooner they are shipped

2) emma, ray, and norman are the oldest children in grace field, and i’m assuming Don and gilda are the next oldest

3) from these facts, we can then assume that Don and gilda are not at perfect scores like our main trio, but are smart enough to have continued past the age of 6 at grace field. given that most of the children are young, its likely many of the children the 5 lived in the house with when they were much younger have already been shipped out. these 5 were the smartest of their “cohort,” and thus, have survived the longest. 

back to Don’s relationship with conny. norman reveals the least of children shipped and their test scores. there were at least 2 children previously shipped before conny. while Don knew the other children, his first concern was for conny. he places a lot of importance on conny and i think that speaks to his strong connection to her. of course Don is most worried about her. 

when Don is faced with such a harsh “reality” that the children are not safe, what else is there to do when it seems the trio are holding back information? in episode 5, the trio attempt dissuading Don from checking out mom’s base of operations, as they don’t think its relevant to escaping. 

however, i think its absolutely necessary for Don and gilda to discover the stakes of escaping. its live or die. Don /needs/ to be invested in the plan. the only way to ensure this is for him to discover that conny has actually died. 

emma and Don: 

emma and Don have a lot of similarities in their personalities. my initial reaction is that Don perhaps is more subdued, but we’ve hardly gotten any screen time with him. he feels emotions just as much as emma does, and he isn’t quite as 1-dimensional as he may seem at face value. 

trust dynamics:

ray encourages emma to suspect other children as traitors, saying that she needs “to be more suspicious! thoroughly!” it is established with the main trio that suspicion is what will get them closer to escape. investigating loopholes, discovering clues that don’t add up--these are all essential to escaping and discovering the truth about the world they are living in. 

bottom line: we see suspicion from the trio as just!

but when faced with the reality that Don and gilda are not always going to take the trio’s advice at face value, suddenly suspicion is bad! unwise! unhelpful! i disagree. Suspicion is absolutely necessary especially when the circumstances are life and death. Don and gilda are also losing the same family members the main trio are losing--its only right they suspect and discover the fate of their younger siblings. 

bottom line: truth/discovery are a necessary subject in the promised neverland. without these elements, the plot just doesn’t develop. emma wouldn’t have found out the morse code in the books phil was reading, norman and emma wouldn’t have discovered the tall wall encircling them--we need to accept that other characters are their own individuals and that there are motives beyond just listening to the main trio because “they’re the smartest.” this sounds oddly similar to “i know what’s best for you.” 

additionally, ray is incredulous with the lie norman and emma told Don and gilda. in the previous line, ray admitted the lie they told the newer 2 was cruel. i assume ray believes they should have told Don and gilda the truth. at this point though, ray did not want to undermine norman and emma, since they have taken the lead on escaping. 

in episode 6, Don points out that emma, norman, and ray were fully prepared to take all of the young children into a “world full of enemies.” ultimately, if the trio had it their way, everyone would be absolutely unaware of the dire situation they were in. i’m on Don’s side: how absurd is it to hide from people that their lives are at stake, whether they stay at grace field or escape? 

some other emotional quotes that made me cry when Don was trying to express how hurt he was:

traitor dynamics:

and then we are introduced to the real traitor: ray. i think a lot of people may have been pleasantly surprised by this twist--this may have even encouraged people to take on ray as a new favorite character (i’m one of the people who absolutely adores ray’s character development). 

on the other hand, people were probably quick to assume it was Don instead before this grand reveal (which would lead to their surprise that is was ray in the first place). people have been gunning for Don for a while up to this point. he’s loud, he’s suspicious, he’s definitely a different personality type in terms of being told what to do. he’s an individual. 

either way, i think some people may have been disappointed it wasn’t Don and (pleasantly) surprised it was ray, which... quite honestly says a lot. 

up to this point, the characters have made it a point that the trio’s suspicion is fair--and i agree--but also, other characters should be allowed suspicion of everyone else, too. 

race:

let’s face it. a lot of the dynamics occurring between the audience’s reaction of ray vs Don and emma vs Don are also influenced by race--or, at the very least colorism. 

the trio is /allowed/ to be suspicious of Don, but Don is not allowed to suspect the trio or their lies. 

emma is allowed to be boisterous and hopeful, but Don is not allowed to be this way. 

in episode 6, the trio accost gilda and Don for disobeying orders, telling them they could have compromised their escape. to be honest, if i were in that situation, i would blow my top off; constantly being questioned/untrusted by my family? my siblings? Don is frustrated and angry and upset that he isn’t trusted--despite ray already being revealed as the spy. it’s not an explicit discussion, but its a dynamic that certainly exists. especially when the only other Black characters are Sister Krone (villain), Phil (ray’s first toddler-spy suspect), and Don (intelligence, trustworthiness constantly questioned by the trio). 

TL;DR: Don and Emma are incredible similar personality types, they love their family as much as everyone else does and wants what’s best for them. at the end of the day though, we have to pay more attention to the ways some characters are consistently treated by other/light-skin characters. there’s a privilege for emma being a light-skinned girl and Don isn’t seen as likeable or innocent, because he’s a Black boy. Ages are incredibly important in the development of the story, the older you are, the smarter you are, give Don some credit that he has at-least above average intelligence. he’s smart, capable, caring, and expressive. I love Don and you should, too. 

#the promised neverland #don tpn #gilda tpn #ray tpn #norman tpn #emma tpn #character analysis

[labyrinth-runner]

“We can share the bed. If that’s not weird” ~ Obidala if you’re alright with it! Thank you!!

I was a little inspired by Mulan for this?

Title:  Oh, Captain, My Captain.

Padmé looked up at her handmaiden, a smile on her face at how light it felt without the usual caked-on makeup. She looked into the face of Sabé, her mirror. 

Sabé’s brow furrowed in concern, “We are not sure that you should do this.”

Padmé bowed slightly, picking up a helmet to tuck under her arm. “We are brave, your highness.”

“It is not your bravery that we doubt,” Sabé said in a soft voice as she gently placed a hand on Padmé’s shoulder. 

“So it is our army that you doubt?” Padmé asked, a brow raised and a slight smirk on her lips.

Sabé shook her head, “We shall not dissuade you.”

Padmé nodded and settled her helmet on her head. Then, she snuck into the ranks of troops in front of her majesty’s dais, waiting for her to address the crowd. She watched as Sabé snuck back to the stairs and made her grand entrance.

“We have faith in our forces, and we know that you shall do well to protect us,” Sabé said in the queen’s slight monotone. “We look forward to seeing you all come home in victory soon.”

The troops all cheered. Padmé looked around and joined in, a rush of excitement going through her. This is where the fun begins.

The battles dragged on, and Padmé soon found herself becoming close with her fellow soldiers. She was always careful about undressing so that they wouldn’t discover her true identity. In fact, only a precious few had seen her without her helmet on. One of them was her tent mate, Major General Kenobi. She had quickly risen in the ranks, having shown her battle strategy and earning her place as his aide-de-camp.

“Naberrie, can you get me my-” he trailed off as she placed a cup of tea in front of him. He looked up from his reading, “Ah, yes, thank you. And my-”

Padmé placed an apple on his table.

He frowned, “I was hoping for a biscuit.”

“You need to be healthier. Can’t have you falling down in battle before you’re due,” Padmé teased.

Obi-Wan fixed her with an intense look before smiling, crinkles forming at the corner of his eyes.  “You’re too good to me,” he chuckled as he picked up the apple and the cutting knife next to it. He wagged the knife at her slightly, a weird look of sadness in his eyes, “I’m sure you’ll make some woman very happy someday.”

Padmé blushed slightly at his words. “I just want to make sure you’re ready for the battle tomorrow, General. I would hate for you to rendezvous with General Jinn when you’re not at your best.”

“I thought I was always at my best, Captain,” he winked.

“Or so you would like to think,” she shot back.

He blushed slightly and looked down at his teacup. “You’re dismissed for the night, Captain Naberrie.”

“Are you sure, Sir?”

He nodded, “Get some sleep. If I am to be at my best, then I need my aide-de-camp to be at his best in order to make me look even better.”

Padmé saluted him before giving him a shake of her head. “Good night, General.”

“Good night, Captain.”

Padmé removed herself to her side of their tent. With great care to her uniform, she slowly took off the cumbersome pieces until her ensemble was comfortable enough to sleep in. As always, she pulled her hair into a tight, low ponytail as was fashion amongst the ranks. She slipped into her cot for the night and let exhaustion take over her.

Obi-Wan stayed up into the late hours of the night until his candle started to die down. When the wax started to spill onto his table, he decided to go to bed. As he passed by his Captain’s cot, he had a weird look in his eyes as he noticed how his Captain’s hair haloed his face in tendrils. He looked so peaceful when he slept. Obi-Wan caught himself staring and blinked, shaking his head before going back about his business.

Padmé stirred slightly when she heard the General’s cot creak under his settling weight. 

The next day, the General’s troops packed up camp and prepared to meet with General Jinn. Padmé rode on her horse next to General Kenobi until they met with them at the top of a battlefield.

Destruction stretched in front of them. She swallowed at the loss of life.

“Ah, General Kenobi,” General Jinn smiled, “It’s about time you showed up.”

General Kenobi shared a smile, “It’s good to see you, too.” His gaze took over the battlefield. “We are losing.”

“You’ve come in the nick of time with my reinforcements,” Jinn commented. “We’ll push forward with the siege.”

“With all due respect, General, but if that is what we have been doing, then perhaps we should change the strategy,” Padmé commented as she surveyed the field.

“And who are you?” Jinn asked.

“Captain Naberrie,” Obi-Wan introduced, “My aide-de-camp. He has quite the head for battle.”

Qui-Gon appraised her, and Padmé could have sworn she saw a glint of intrigue in his eyes. “I’m sure he does. What do you think, Captain?”

Padmé swallowed as she turned back to him from the field. “I think we should separate the troops into two groups and outflank them by going through the forest. Their colors would stand out, but we would blend in.”

“A veritable strategy,” Qui-Gon commented. “I see why he keeps you around. I’ll inform the men to retreat so that we may regroup and follow your strategy, Captain Amidala.”

Padmé bristled, but Obi-Wan hadn’t noticed the slip up.

“I think you’ve impressed him,” Obi-Wan commented when they were alone. “That’s no easy feat.”

Padmé smiled at him as she tugged on her horse’s reins, “And you knew him from before.”

“He was my professor at the academy,” Obi-Wan explained before nudging his horse back to the rest of his men. 

The battle was fierce and long, but the amount of men lost was minimal in comparison to the previous strategy. Although, the wounded were many. When Obi-Wan breached the enemy lines and sent them into a retreat, he turned triumphant towards his aide-de-camp to find that they were not there. He turned, eyes frantic to find that Captain Naberrie was on the ground meters behind him, having been thrown from their horse after being shot. Quickly, he dismounted and went to his Captain’s side.

“Stay with me, Naberrie,” he murmured as he knelt down. With all the care in the world, he scooped Padmé up and took her back to base to be seen by a medical professional. 

Soon enough, he was pacing outside the tent as a professional tended his Captain’s wounds.

Qui-Gon dismounted outside the tent, “Are you trying to wear a path into the ground?”

Obi-Wan paused and saluted, “General.”

“At ease. What happened?”

“The Captain was shot at and thrown from his horse,” Obi-Wan informed him, worry apparent on his face.

Qui-Gon frowned, “If she’s wounded, you’ll have to take her home. The battlefield is no place for a lady.”

“She?” Obi-Wan said incredulously.

Qui-Gon looked at him with a smirk, “You’ve shared a tent with her majesty and didn’t recognize her this entire time?”

“You’re telling me that Captain Naberrie is....” Obi-Wan trailed off. “Oh heavens, she’s been serving me when I should have been serving her!”

Padmé chose that moment to get out of her cot and throw open the flap, wincing at the movement, “I can assure you, General, you serve me well enough with your military campaign.”

“Your highness,” Obi-Wan said as he bowed.

Padmé tilted his face up to see hers. Softly, she murmured, “At ease, General.”

Obi-Wan locked eyes with her and swallowed the lump in his throat before straightening. “As you wish.”

“Obi-Wan, I’m giving you new orders to escort the Queen back to the palace,” Qui-Gon said, interrupting their moment.

“Absolutely not,” Padmé protested, “I’m needed here.”

“Your majesty, you are not safe here. We must get you home,” Qui-Gon replied with only a touch of exasperation, “What will your people do if you perish? Sabé cannot take over forever.”

Padmé opened her mouth and then promptly shut it before going back into the tent to sit. She couldn’t leave Sabé in charge. Sabé hated politics. Padmé sighed, “I’ve already left her in charge long enough, haven’t I?”

Obi-Wan smirked, “Long enough to make Captain.”

She smirked at him, “I had an inspiring General.”

“The palace is about two day’s ride to the south if you don’t stop,” Qui-Gon informed them. “You are to leave immediately before the enemy catches wind that the Queen is even here. You’ll take the messenger’s horse. It’s the fastest.”

“What will the messenger use?” Padmé asked.

Qui-Gon smirked, “He’s got feet, hasn’t he?”

Obi-Wan shook his head, “You’re horrible.”

“That’s ‘you’re horrible, General’ to you,” Qui-Gon winked, “Now get out of here.”

In an instant, Obi-Wan scooped Padmé up in his arms and carried her towards the corrals. 

“I can walk,” Padmé murmured.

“You took a nasty tumble earlier,” Obi-Wan replied.

“Obi-Wan, you know I’m capable,” she replied in frustration. “Treat me as you always have.”

Obi-Wan looked down at her, “Your majesty, it’s hard to just go back to that.”

“Why?” She asked as he placed her in the saddle and swung up behind her.

“Because of who you are and the type of person that I am,” he replied before setting the horse into a run.

Padmé sighed as she leaned into him and settled into the trip. A silence settled around them.

General Kenobi looked down at the woman in his arms. He was nervous, but most of all, he was confused. He’d always though his Captain was a handsome man, but now faced with the truth that she was a beautiful woman, he was left reeling. He considered him, nay, her to be his best friend on that field. She was brilliant in a way that most couldn’t even come close to touching. He didn’t know what he was to do without her. She kept his life in order and held him together in more ways than he dared to admit. Now, he was faced with the issue of returning her home. He felt awful for not waiting on her instead of the other way around. Most of all, he felt foolish that he hadn’t realized it sooner, and hurt that she hadn’t told him.

“You’re quiet,” she ventured finally, “it’s unlike you.”

“Is it?” he asked softly. “Perhaps we both don’t know each other quite as well as we thought.”

Padmé stiffened in his hold before turning to look at him over her shoulder. “General, that’s a lie and you know it.”

“Do I?” he asked, a slight edge to his voice. “Because everything that I thought I knew, I apparently did not.”

“Obi-Wan, I never lied to you,” she replied adamantly.

“You lied about being a man!”

“You never asked,” she shot back.

“And your name.”

“Naberrie is my maiden name,” she replied.

“Oh.”

They walked on in silence for a few strides before Padmé sighed.

“I am sorry,” she murmured.

“You don’t have to apologize,” he replied. “I understand why you would go to such lengths. It’s actually admirable that you care so much about your people as to risk your own life to ensure theirs.”

A quiet understanding enveloped them, then. The knowing that although it may have been started under false pretenses and conclusions, their friendship was still real. It was still valid. They had still been through a war at each other’s side, and nothing would change that.

The rhythmic pitter patter of rain on the forest canopy above could be heard. It started gradually before growing in strength to the point where they were shouting to be heard above the din.

“We should stop for the night!” Obi-Wan yelled as thunder clapped above them. He had taken his cape and held it over their heads to try and protect them from the downpour. “If we go on like this, we’ll get ill!”

“We’ll stop at the next in!” Padmé yelled back. 

Obi-Wan pulled up to the next inn they came across, holding the door open for her once they arrived. 

“There’s only one room left,” the innkeeper said as he slid the key over. He gave Padmé an odd glance at her choice in outfit and she looked down to find she was still in her uniform. 

“I ran out of clothes,” she explained quickly.

His eyes narrowed, but he nodded, satisfied with her answer. “Third door on the right.”

Padmé gave him a gracious nod and started down the hall with Obi-Wan. When they reached the room, she started up the fireplace out of habit.

“You should let me,” Obi-Wan said as he took the prod from her.

“If you wish, General,” she sighed before she started to peel off her layers as they clung to her skin.

“Y-your majesty?” Obi-Wan stammered.

“Obi-Wan, our clothes are soaked. If we don’t let the majority of them dry then we won’t have anything to wear,” she replied as she draped her clothes over the back of the chair until she was just in her undershirt and underwear.  “You, too, General. I won’t have you getting sick on my account.”

Obi-Wan sighed, “That’s not proper.”

Padmé rolled her eyes and moved to undress him. “I will not have my friend catch his death due to modesty.”

He looked down, watching as her nimble fingers unbuttoned and peeled off his jacket. He stopped her when she went towards his pants. “I can handle that,” he murmured, unbuttoning and sliding them down until they matched in states of undress.

Together, they sat on the couch, trying to dry the clothes they were still wearing by the warmth of the fire. Obi-Wan draped his arm around the back of the couch. Padmé leaned into his side for his body heat, leaning her head on his shoulder.

“Why didn’t you tell me?” he asked softly.

“Would you have let me stay?” she asked seriously.

“Maybe,” he sighed, “I already don’t know what I’ll do without you, if I’m being honest.”

“I’ve become that important to you?” she asked, tilting up to look at him.

He looked down at her with a small smile, “You’re indispensable.”

Padmé felt her cheeks heat up from his words and not the fire, turning away from the intensity of his gaze. Reaching up, she touched her shirt to find that it had dried. “We should get some rest,” she murmured.

“I’ll take the couch if you want. Or we could share the bed if that’s not odd,” Obi-Wan murmured.

“Why would it be odd? We’ve shared both bed and tent before,” she replied as she got up to cross the room.

“Yes, but that was different. It was before...”

“Before, what, you knew who I was?”

“Well, quite frankly, yes,” he replied.

“Does that knowledge really change so much between us?” she asked in exasperation as she threw back the covers and got into bed.

“Yes,” Obi-Wan replied seriously as he gently got into his side of the bed.

“Why?” She asked, turning to face him in bed.

“It makes my attraction to you less awkward,” he admitted.

Padmé blushed, “Attraction?”

“Yes,” Obi-Wan murmured as he gently took her hair out of the low ponytail she had it in. He cupped her cheek with his hand before tucking hair behind her ear.

Padmé looked up at his eyes that were so intensely focused on her lips, “I’d be lying if I said it wasn’t mutual.”

“Oh?” he asked in amusement.

“You’re capable, charming, and handsome, General. What’s not to like?”

“Please, your majesty. Call me Obi,” he murmured.

“And you may call me Padmé. You’ve more than earned the right, Obi,” she murmured as she felt his arm wrap around her. She slowly drew nearer. As her nose bumped his, she let herself melt into him as their lips connected. She closed her eyes to heighten her other senses, feeling his lips move firmly against hers as his hands slipped into her hair. She kissed back harder and harder. Their motions became desperate until she pulled back for air.

Obi-Wan took stock of how flushed her cheeks looked and how rosy her lips were from the kiss. He had kissed his Queen. His eyes widened slightly with the realization.

Padmé opened her eyes to her General. He had kissed her, and she had kissed him. Most of all, she’d liked it. He looked at her so intently. It was a way that made her feel seen. She hoped he’d always see her. The thought thudded in her chest: Did she love her General? Her eyes widened in the realization as she swallowed a lump in her throat and immediately turned over in bed.

“Good night, General.”

“Good night, your majesty,” Obi-Wan sighed, running a hand down his face as he faced the other direction.

#obidala #obi-wan x padme

[dawnrider]

Well hello! Welcome back to #Fuck it Friday! For your reading pleasure (or not. Whatever floats your boat.) I give you a bit of college AU Bleach ridiculousness.

Thanks for stopping by! 😘

The flames seemed to come from everywhere. The lower windows of all the buildings on the quad were bursting with them, the heat pouring inward. She screamed, covering her head and trying to get away. No matter where she turned, flames surrounded her. “Come on, you can’t stay here,” a deep male voice told her, pushing her to move, pulling her away. Finding she wouldn’t budge, he finally lifted her. She felt the strength of his arms around her, the solid press of his chest against her side. “Rukia, you have to wake up.” She shook her head, refusing his words and hiding her face against his shoulder. She was awake! The heat was real, the flames were real… he was real. “Rukia!”

Bolting upright, the young woman swallowed a scream. She was being smothered, she was trapped. Slowly she realized it was the blankets from her very own bed that held her limbs. Gasping for breath, she tried to calm her racing heart. The voice called again and she sighed. "Yea, Rangiku, I'm up."

"You're going to be late for your class again if you don't get shakin'." Rukia waved off her roommate's concern, rolling out of bed and slipping into the closest pair of pants. She managed to run a brush through her hair while sliding a T-shirt over her head. Luckily her roommate wasn’t in their bathroom and she was able to brush her teeth uninterrupted. “Rukia, there’s coffee left in the pot, I’m heading to work!” She grunted a response as she tried to do something with her hair, then gave up. The front door opened and slammed as Rangiku left in her usual boisterous manner.

Making it to class on time was a close thing, but Rukia slid into a seat near the back corner just as the professor greeted the class. He reminded them what they’d talked about the class before and told them he’d be lecturing on the next period of history. She knew it was going to be difficult to stay awake. This was a requirement class in which she had no interest so it was a daily struggle as it was. The fact that the prof was lecturing on political history during the early 18th century made it even harder to keep her attention on the board.

Thoughts drifting to her dream from the night before, she frowned. She’d been having a similar dream for nearly a week, only it was escalating each time. What had begun as a brightly glowing star as she lay in the quad became the glowing heat of flames of a bonfire. It had only become the conflagration of several buildings last night.

Rukia’s attention was drawn forward again, the chill of something up her spine making her straighten. Someone was watching her. Her first instinct was that the teacher had asked a question and was expecting an answer from her. When she found him paging through a text to look for a quote to share, she knew it wasn’t that. Her gaze shifted around the room to finally land on the boy she’d noticed a few times. He was young, probably a freshman, and he was seemingly a little awkward. He always sat in the far corner of the room and she often found him staring at her. She hadn’t approached him to dissuade the staring yet, something about him making her too uncomfortable.

The class flinched when the professor dropped the book he’d been looking through on the desk in a signal that he was done talking, those who hadn’t been paying as much attention looking sheepishly up at him. Everyone shuffled about putting their things away in order to leave, Rukia included. She glanced around again for the kid with the staring problem, but he was nowhere to be found. She frowned. No one had gone out the door, had they?

~~~~

The bar was not the first place most people would think to study, but for Rukia it provided just the right amount of noise and enough companionship without actually having to talk to anyone. She sometimes got odd looks from other patrons, but the bartenders knew her and just smiled when she came in. Being a Tuesday, it wasn’t terribly busy, so Rukia took a booth for herself and spread out her notes and textbooks to get a start on her history paper. The soft murmur of voices in the background got a little louder for several minutes, then quieted again. Rukia didn’t pay it much attention until she noticed she suddenly wasn’t alone in her booth anymore.

He was ridiculous looking. At first glance anyway. He seemed too tall, his limbs too long, and it was all topped off by a shock of bright ginger hair. He looked like he’d probably had it hard as a teenager and had worked even harder to break the cycle. He was muscular in a sinewy way that told her he was probably a swimmer… or a fighter. Rukia eyed him skeptically as he lounged in the booth across from her. “Can I help you?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. She watched a slow, almost predatory, smirk curve his mouth. That alone took some of the ridiculousness out of his image and replaced it with the suggestion of caged tiger.

“Not sure about that, but I think I can help you.”

“Oh?” Rukia gave him a dry look. “You seem very certain. What is it that I need help with exactly?” There was the strong temptation to “accidentally” spill her drink into his lap. I swear, if he says something about sleeping with me, I’ll kick him in the nuts. His smirk grew in a way that made her think she was going to be doing some kicking soon. Or be bitten. He looks like he wants to eat me, she thought with a shiver.

“Been burned recently?” he asked softly, his long fingers catching her hand on the table, thumb pressing against the fleshy part of the heel. Rukia’s violet eyes shot up to his nearly golden gaze even as she struggled to keep a straight face. There was no scarring, no discoloration, no pain. What made him ask that of all things? She pulled her hand back sharply, eying him icily.

“Is that supposed to be a pickup line? It’s pretty terrible.”

The soft, warm chuckle that sounded in his chest made her wary. “It would be pretty terrible if it were a pickup line. It wasn’t.” His sharp eyes pinned her to her seat. “The flames can’t touch you here. That’s why you have to wake up, to be safe.”

Rukia jumped up from the table with a startled gasp. “This… this is a dream…” she murmured. She squealed when she felt the bands of his arms around her, the sound muffled in his chest.

“No. Not a dream. This is real.” The feel of his body against her, the sound of his voice… This was the man who rescued her in her dreams, pulled her from the flames. “I know this is hard, but you have to believe me. You can trust me.”

It took several moments for her to get the breath in her lungs under sufficient pressure to move upward and set her vocal folds in motion. “Wh-who are you?”

“Ichigo. Ichigo Kurosaki.” He sat down in the booth, taking her with him and caging her into the corner. Rukia knew she should have felt frightened and trapped, but instead she felt protected, guarded. "There's something that's trying to hurt you, trying to hurt a lot of people."

She gaped at him. “W-what?”

He grunted, taking a look around to make sure no one was paying attention to them. For all the attention he’d garnered when he came in, no one seemed to notice him now. “There is a - for lack of a better word - phantom trying to fight that he is dead.” Rukia stared at him, her violet irises tiny rings around her dilated pupils. As much as she wanted to ignore what he was saying, she couldn’t deny that part of her completely believed him. “You’ve seen him, haven’t you?” he asked suddenly, his eyes wide. A sharp intake of breath was her answer. “Rukia, you have to tell me what he looks like. I can only feel him nearby, I don’t know what to look for.”

"I... I thought he was a lonely freshman or something." Ichigo nodded, waiting for more. "He's small, like me. Dark hair, pale skin, slight five o'clock shadow." Golden eyes surveyed the room again. When she saw them narrow, she shrunk into the booth even further.

"Do his cheeks always look a little flushed?" Rukia nodded. Oh god, he's here, she thought. "Rukia, breathe," he murmured in her ear, the warmth of his breath startling her into obeying him. "Thatagirl. Now listen, I know you're scared, but I'm going to get you out of here. He’s probably going to follow us, but that’s what we want, ok?”

“What?”

“There are a lot of people here. A lot of people he can hurt. We need to lead him away from all these people so I can help him pass on and you can be safe.” Rukia found herself nodding, letting him help her gather her things and even paying for her drink. She took a breath to protest just as he swept her out of the bar with an arm around her waist. “Just keep looking forward.” Another protest died on her lips when she felt the chill down her spine. “He’s following. Sorry, you’re probably feeling it too.” She glanced up at him in confusion. “The goosebumps on your back,” he clarified, indicating he knew exactly what she was feeling. “That’s the sensation they give me when they’re vengeful or angry.”

“He’s following us… Where are we going?” she asked him, suddenly finding her voice.

“There’s an empty lot over here.” Ichigo kept her moving.

“Don’t touch her!” Rukia didn’t recognize the voice, but the increased intensity of the chill made it clear who had spoken. “Get your hands off of her!” They both turned slowly, seeing the slightly transparent boy standing with clenched fists at his sides. Rukia could see now that he was not truly there. For some reason, in her class, he had seemed real enough. But here in the natural light, he was quite clearly intangible. “She… she’s my girlfriend,” he said, his hesitation obvious.

“I…”

“Don’t, Rukia, don’t give him anything to latch onto.” Ichigo pulled her closer to him, letting his warmth push away the chill the boy’s presence brought on. “I know it’s hard to understand. One day, no one could see you anymore, right?” Shock registered on the boy’s face. “You couldn’t remember who you were and why you were standing somewhere unfamiliar with no clue how you got there. Does that sound right?”

“How… how did you know that?” His lip quivered slightly, his dark eyes wide in his pale face. He looked back and forth furtively, trying to find something he felt sure of. “What did you do to me? This is your fault!” Rukia gasped at the sudden chill that seemed to fill the air. This was what Ichigo felt? What being the focus of a vengeful spirit felt like? “Give it back! Give her back!” he shouted at Ichigo.

“She isn’t yours,” the ginger-haired man growled with more force than Rukia would have expected. “You need to move on. Let go of your anger and jealousy. That is what keeps you here. If you don’t let it go, you will hurt people, people you don’t want to hurt.”

“No, I won’t go. I won’t. I need her,” he cried, his voice distorting oddly, reaching toward Rukia and taking a step forward. Rukia instinctively curled into Ichigo’s embrace, trying to keep the spirit away from her and seeking the warmth of his body. As his arms wrapped around her, she was suddenly glad of his height, his long limbs. The boy let out a low groan, one that didn’t sound quite human. Rukia peeked over Ichigo’s shoulder to find the boy’s face and body contorting sickeningly.

“No! Release the anger so you can move on to a better place!” Ichigo’s words didn’t seem to reach him. He let go of her with one arm, raising his hand and speaking words she didn’t catch. A ball of light formed around the phantom and his face stopped warping and twisting. Slowly he calmed and then blinked owlishly at them. “That’s it,” Ichigo breathed. “Let go, be calm, go on.” A few breaths later and he began to fade, dispersing into the air. Neither one moved for another moment, waiting to make sure he really was gone.

Rukia cried out when Ichigo collapsed, barely catching himself before he crushed her. “Ichigo?” she called, grasping his shoulders to help keep his face off the ground. He flipped toward his back and Rukia caught him so his head was resting on her knees. “What happened?”

“Damn, I hate using those!” he huffed, his eyes closed and his face pale from the exertion.

“W-what was that?”

“Spell, more or less. I’m not exactly good at them, so they burn me out.” Rukia gathered that his exhaustion had made him so honest. He didn’t seem the type to admit weakness easily. They sat there for some time, Rukia trying to process what had just happened and Ichigo recouping his strength. He hummed softly as he lay there and she eventually noticed that she had been idly running her fingers through his hair.

Rukia pulled her hand back, cheeks flushing in embarrassment. Why had that felt so natural? “S-so he won't come back?”

“No. He's ‘crossed over’ if it's easier to think of it that way.”

#fuck it friday #dawnrider fanfiction #random fandom #Bleach #college AU with a twist