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staar5384 · 7 months

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PLEASSEEEE PART 2 OF CHAMPAGNE PROBLEMS 🙏 COUNTING ON YOU

champange problems 2

neuvillette x gn!reader

hurt/no comfort - pure angst yet again - implied wriolette - they/them pronouns - light spoilers for 4.1 at the end

you ask and you shall receive! here's the highly request pt. 2! here's pt. 1 for those interested

You weren’t aware how long you had left Fontaine when you returned. After you rejected Neuvillette’s marriage proposal, you disappeared without a word. Guilt and shame ate away at you, and you couldn’t bare to face him after you had humiliated him in front of the entirety of Fontaine.

You took a vacation down to Mondstadt, where you spent your days wandering the vast wilderness and your nights drinking your sorrows away in the taverns. You made friends with a few of the locals in your drunken state. You blubbered and sobbed about how much you missed Neuvillette, and how you regretted throwing him aside the way you did. They all told you the same thing each time; “If you love him so much, go to him.”

After some convincing, and a lot of pondering, that’s exactly what you did. The journey back was excruciatingly long. Each day you weren’t back home trying to reconcile with your lover was another day your heart ached for him.

You had hoped that when you returned, people would have forgotten about the events that took place that night, but you were wrong.

Everyone stared at you as you walked the streets. They threw disgusted looks at you, whispered amongst themselves. It wasn’t undeserved, but it was uncomfortable.

You arrived at your shared home with Neuvillette, unlocking the door, and stepping inside. Adeline, your Melusine made, took notice of your arrival, “You’ve returned,” She said, her voice soft. “It’s been so long. The Monsieur and I have been so worried!”

“I’m sorry to worry you, Adeline,” You gave her a smile. “Speaking of Neuvillette… Is he here?”

She shook her head, “No he’s in a trial right now. Then there is a banquet tonight he’s attending.”

Unsurprising. There was always some sort of event happening thanks to Furina. “Thank you, Adeline.”

“May I ask a question?”

“Of course. What is it?”

“Forgive my intrusion, but why did you say no to the Monsieur?”

You shouldn’t have been so surprised by the question, but it still caught you off guard, “I don’t know. I really don’t.”

You had decided you would find him at the banquet tonight. You dressed up in your finest clothes, then headed for the Opera Epiclese. Just like your walk to your home, this one also consisted of stares and whispers. You kept your head down as you moved along.

The guards outside stared at you for a moment. You weren’t invited, you knew that and they did too, but they didn’t try to stop you.

The building looked just as beautiful as the night you left it. The purple and blue hues were replaced with grays and reds of varying shades. The flowers that once symbolized love were replaced by strings of stones and crystals that shone in the dim lights of the opera house.

You could feel all eyes on you as you walked around. You picked up a drink offered to you by a Melusine. You thank her, looking down inside. It was a purple color, and it smelled almost floral. You took a small sip. It was iced tea. Confusion struck your face. Since when has anyone ever served tea in the Opera Epiclese?

Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Furina. She was ascending the stairs with a black haired man in tow. You vaguely recognized him; he stayed down in the Fortress of Meropide. The two were speaking, the man chuckling as she spoke.

Furina turned her attention toward the crowd below her. She glanced out at everyone, scanning the crowd until her eyes locked with yours. They widened, then she nudged the raven haired man. He focused his attention on you, his eyes narrowing as he looked at you.

You felt your body warm in embarrassment. Why did they have to draw so much attention to you?

You placed the half empty glass of tea aside and rushed into another room. The room was fairly empty, only a few people resided in it. You found a place in the corner to tuck yourself into. All you wanted to do was find Neuvillette, but instead you’ve attracted the unwanted attention of every person there, including the Hydro Archon.

It was going to be a long night.

Neuvillette had spent weeks planning this banquet for his friend, Wriothesley. The man had been his rock after you left, and he deserved the recognition for the hard work he did in the Fortress of Meropide.

He looked at himself over and over again in the mirror. Was his hair a mess? Did his face look flushed? He had just finished a trial and had no time to stop at home and wash up, so his appearance felt off.

“Checking yourself out?”

Neuvillette jumped, turning his head to see who was there, “Wriothesley, you startled me.”

Wriothesley leaned against the wall, his arms crossed over his chest. “Who would have thought I could scare the great Chief Justice?” He chuckled, pushing himself off the wall and approaching Neuvillette.

This gave Neuvillette a chance to look him over. The man was dressed in a deep gray suit with a maroon tie that hung loosely around his neck. The suit shirt hugged around his chest, leaving none of his features to the imagination. “You’re staring, Neuvi.”

Neuvillette’s face turned a deep red, “Ahh yes, sorry. You look good tonight. That’s all.”

Wriothesley laughed, “And so do you. Stop freaking out over it.”

“How did you know?”

“Only a person worried about their appearance stares so deeply into the mirror. Well, except Furina. She does it because she’s a narcissist.”

Neuvillette let out a breathy chuckle, “Oh Wriothesley, be careful. She may hear you.”

As if on cue, Furina burst through the door, “Wriothesley! Did you tell him!”

“Tell me what?” Neuvillette glanced at the man.

“Oh. Right. Umm-”

Furina cut him off before he could speak, “They are here.”

Neuvillette’s heart sunk deep into his chest. A wave of emotion rushed through him. “What?”

“We saw them in the crowd. They were entirely alone, but I think they were looking for you,” Furina replied.

“We can kick them out,” Wriothesley shrugged. “They technically weren’t invited.”

“No,” Neuvillette said. “Let’s not worry about them. This night is not about me. It’s about you, Wriothesley.”

“But how can I enjoy my night if you’re uncomfortable?”

Neuvillette was slightly taken aback by his words. He cleared his throat, shaking his head gently, “I’ll be alright. Let’s get out there and have a good time. I’ll pretend as if they don’t exist.”

Wriothesley and Furina just glanced at each other, before giving in. The three left the room and began to engage with the party.

Wriothesley stayed close to Neuvillette, his hand lingering against his waist, hand, or any other part of Neuvillette’s body. The two were incredibly close, not moving away from each other for longer than necessary.

Furina took notice of this, of course she did, she loved the drama of Neuvillette’s ex being here as she watched what was most likely a blossoming romance.

The night continued on, and so far, Neuvillette had not seen you. Thanks to Wriothesley, he rarely even thought about you being here.

You had been wandering around the opera house in search of Neuvillette. Has the damn place always been so big?

People began to take less notice of you as their attention drifted towards the festivities. You were thankful, as it made your night a lot less stressful.

“Where could he be?” You mumbled to yourself before you saw him across the room. He was seated beside the man from before, and he looked so content.

The two men were chatting and laughing. You saw the man’s hand rested on top of Neuvillette’s, their fingers intertwined with each other.

You stared at them for a moment, unable to process the scene in front of you. Another person was holding onto Neuvillette’s hand, another person was making him smile in ways only you had been able to.

Were you too late?

Wriothesley noticed you first. His grip tightened on Neuvillette’s hand as he stared you down. It was almost as if he was challenging you to act.

Neuvillette noticed the sudden tightness of Wriothesley’s grip, “Is everything okay?” He glanced at him, then in the direction he was looking in. There you were.

Tears were in your eyes as you were unable to fully process the scene in front of you. Time felt like it had stopped and there was nothing but you and the two men in front of you.

Neuvillette rose from his seat, releasing his grip on Wriothesley’s hand. He whispered something to him, then began making his way to you.

As his figure moved closer, you almost ran once again. Your heart hammered in your chest almost painfully, as if trying to beat through your ribcage.

Once he was in front of you, the whole room turned its attention to the scene. Neuvillette cleared his throat and waved his hand, “Let’s go somewhere more private.” You nodded, and the two of you left the room together.

Now you were entirely alone. No guests, no Furina, no random man holding Neuvillette’s hand. The silence was uncomfortable as neither of you knew where to start or what to say.

“Why are you here?” Neuvillette asked, keeping a good distance between you two.

“I,” The words were trapped in your throat. “I’m here for you.”

Neuvillette let out a sad chuckle, “You know, months ago I would have loved to hear those words, but now,” He turned his head away from you. “They mean nothing.”

There was a sharp pain in your chest as he spoke. It felt like dragging a blade through your heart. “Neuvillette, please. I-I’m so sorry,” You tried to move closer, but he raised his hand to motion you to stop.

“Your apologies won’t repair the damage you caused. Do you know what it was like to stand on that stage, watching your lover run away from their heartfelt proposal? Do you know how it felt to become the talk of the city? I was pitied by everyone. I leave my comfort zone to throw a beautiful party, give you an emotional speech in front of so many people, and you not only reject me, but you disappear entirely,” His voice was getting louder, and you could see his hands shaking. “So on top of the heartbreak you caused me, I spent every day and every night worried sick for you. You left without a single word. You could have died and I would have never known. And you only just now feel sorry?”

You could hear the rumbling of thunder from outside, and the sound of rain hitting the roof of the Opera Epiclese. You stood there in silence with your head hung low. Shame, guilt, it was all bubbling inside you.

“Nothing to say?” He said, his voice cracking. You still said nothing in return. He scoffed, running his hand through his hair. “After everything I said, you can’t say a single word.”

“I shouldn’t have rejected you like that. I should have talked to you about my fears. Instead, I ran away like a coward. I spent so much time sulking and feeling sorry for myself, but I couldn’t bring myself to fix the damage I created.”

“And now you want to try? I fixed it myself, so don’t worry. I don’t need your help. Not anymore.”

Tears were falling from your eyes, your face flushing as you cried, “I still love you, Neuvillette.”

“Well, I’m sorry to say I don’t feel the same.” There was a flash of lightning outside, illuminating the empty room. “I suggest you leave. You were not invited here, and do not expect an invitation again,” Then Neuvillette spun around and left.

You watched the door open and close, leaving you alone in the empty room. A minute passed, then another, and two more after that. Your body and mind had completely frozen. The beating of your heart was painfully fast and hard. You silently cried, listening as the rain fell from the sky.

When you finally had the courage to leave the room, you made sure your exit was quick and unnoticed. Rain was pouring from the sky as you left the Opera Epiclese. You knew why it was raining, and now you had to walk back to your once home in your ex lover’s sorrows.

a/n- i feel way less confident in this than the first part, but you requested a part 2, so i had to deliver. i almost went the less angsty route, so maybe i can make an alternate ending that is actually happy. also i tagged everyone who was interested in a pt. 2. i hope that's okay!

taglist- @soggywafle arccanejj erosdevil just-a-fuegoleon-fangirl @heartfatelust

#genshin impact #genshin impact fanfic #genshin #genshin fanfiction #genshin fanfic #neuvillette #neuvillete x reader #wriolette #wriothesley #genshin impact angst #genshin angst #neuvillette angst #hurt/no comfort

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redgyl · 1 year

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I actually wrote this up at the same time as the first chapter, but I held onto it for editing purposes. That's always wise, editing, thinking things through, all that jazz.

Much thanks to @applestruda for creating this AU, and to all the other commentators for their contributions.

Here be Chapter 2 of my version of the "Scar attacks Grian" story. Enjoy!

Chapter 2

“Hey, Scar, could you hold this for a minute?” The winged man was crouched on the ground, holding a leather pouch up to him. On the ground in front of him was assorted stuff.

Though the tone and the question were completely ordinary, a red flag rose up in the minds of those who knew him best. Pearl peeked over, then quickly ducked behind a tree. Mumbo, who had seen what Grian did, stepped behind his horse and covered his ears, suppressing his laughter. Only Impulse continued packing his gear like normal, oblivious to the danger.

“Sure,” Scar said, reaching for the bag without the least bit of caution.

The bag exploded with a BOOM and in a huge puff of gray smoke, thoroughly startling Scar enough to make him scream and fall back. Impulse jumped and yelled in surprise. When the smoke cleared, Grian, covered in white ash, hugged his sides like they hurt, laughing like a maniac.

“Geez, Grian!” Impulse exclaimed. “What was that?!”

Grian was laughing too hard to answer right away. “Oh, that was good,” he managed between gasps. “So, so good.”

“Gr-GRIAN!” Scar finally shouted, wild-eyed and shaking. He was sitting up, cuddling and petting Jellie like his life depended on it. “What the hey — What WAS that, Grian?!?”

“Lava salamander scales, ground up and mixed with an anti-fire powder,” he finally answered, wiping a tear from his eye. “So you wouldn’t get burned, just scared. Oh, that was glorious! I knew I could count on you to hold it.”

Mumbo peeked out from behind his horse, smiling. “You’re a bad, bad man, Grian.”

“I know, and it’ll all catch up to me,” Grian impishly finished the light-hearted lecture, drawing the “all” out. “Bad karma, all that. But I was bored, so …”

Mumbo stifled another laugh. “How can you be bored first thing in the morning?”

“If I waited until evening, your guard would be up.”

“Oh, it’s ALWAYS up with you around.”

“Everything’s alright, Jellie,” Scar continued muttering, petting his familiar. “He’s not going to hurt you.” Then Scar started laughing, and everything was all right again. He looked at his ash-covered armor to Grian’s. “You’re all covered in ash.”

“Yeah, I didn’t mean for it to go off so soon,” Grian said, brushing off the ash before gathering all his things into his travel pack. “Didn’t have time to get away. I’ll need to fix the timing of the explosion better. Can you help with that, Mumbo?”

“No way,” Mumbo said, though flattered. “I’ll have to keep SOME of my secrets safe.”

“Ooh, nothing is safe …”

Before too long, they were on the road again. At some point during the day, Scar had spooked Grian’s horse, sending the steed careening through the woods with Grian barely holding on and Scar laughing. No harm done, and the pranking scales had been balanced, so all was well. The forest seemed to go on forever, then it finally opened up into a huge meadow. The flower-covered field was a welcome sight after all of the endless green, brown, and gray shade of the trees. By then, the sun was already setting, so they set up camp.

The next day woke bright and beautiful, except that Mumbo found that Grian had hidden his travel pack while he slept, while Grian took his turn to stand watch. Mumbo said to go on ahead, so the rest rode on slowly, Impulse and Pearl taking the lead, as Scar and Grian lingered.

“What’s with the canaries?” Scar asked Grian. There were three small songbirds riding on the smaller man’s shoulders.

Grian looked grouchily at the creatures. “They’re finches. Pesky birds …”

Scar chuckled, a strand of his hair turning pale. “You’re like a fairy tale princess.”

“Not really,” Grian said, glaring at the birds. “The fairy tale princesses could actually talk to the animals and get them to do useful things. These birds are just annoying.”

He felt a darkness, then. It was a deep, supernatural darkness, one that physical eyes could not see. He followed the sense of it with his inner and physical eyes, finding himself staring into the trees they were approaching.

It was just the very specific type of danger he had made a pact to combat. He was certain Pearl could sense it, too.

All business, he didn’t notice the birds taking off. With a start, he saw Jellie zip ahead, making the fastest beeline for the place where the spiritual Darkness was at.

He didn’t have time to connect the dots about what happens whenever Jellie leaves Scar’s side. Something hard and fast hit the side of his head. Painful stars exploded in his vision and brain, and he, thankfully, knew nothing else.

~~~~~~~~

Grian was right: Pearl felt the deep Darkness up ahead. She took a sharp intake of breath, and her hold on her scythe tightened.

Impulse, who couldn’t feel it, noticed her movements. “Pearl? What …”

Just then, Jellie dashed past them both and disappeared into the trees.

“Jellie?” yelled Pearl. She paused and looked back. “No, Scar!”

Horses screamed shrilly back in the clearing, prompting impulse to also look back. His blood ran cold. He saw Scar in his Vex form, shattered crossbow in one hand, a limp winged knight held by the ankle in the other. Grian’s horse had taken off at a fast gallop, its eyes wild with terror. Scar’s horse reared back, screaming and shaking its mane, eyes rolling in horror.

Pearl made a split-second decision. “I’ll get Jellie back!” she yelling, spurring her horse to go deeper into the woods off the trail.

“Right!” Impulse acknowledged, wheeling his horse around to face Vex-Scar. “I’ll get Grian!” He dug his spurs in, and his warhorse charged forward.

Scar’s horse started bucking, and the monster on its back let go, hovering in the air on his own set of ghostly wings. Grinning fiercely, Vex-Scar dropped to the ground, slamming Grian hard.

Then Impulse and his steed was upon them. In an instant, Vex-Scar phased into the solid earth to dodge the horse’s hooves, which was exactly what Impulse hoped for. The knight reined back hard, careful that Grian didn’t get trampled as he stopped right next to him. Knowing that Vex-Scar could attack straight up through the ground any moment, Impulse jumped off his horse, scooped up the light avian, and climbed back onto his steed.

He took a brief moment to check on his limp companion. The side of Grian’s head was bloody, and his skin was deathly pale. But Impulse could see his a faint movement under the skin of his neck, where a vein pulsed with a heartbeat.

‘He’s alive,’ Impulse thought, relieved. ‘How did this happen so quickly?’ Putting off the question to explore later, he shifted his hold on Grian to a more secure one, and spun his horse around to try and get him out of the clearing before Vex-Scar resurfaced.

“Wait for me,” a raspy voice called behind him, a voice so unlike Scar’s usual smooth baritone. Impulse urged his horse into gallop, ignoring the command. He looked back to see Vex-Scar rise out of — and off of — the ground, its eyes fixed on Impulse’s back. Then he spurred his horse forward, giving it its head.

They almost reached the trees when Impulse felt a grip on his shoulder. Vex-Scar grabbed ahold and yanked, pulling Impulse and his limp cargo off.

Impulse swore as he rolled to his feet, drawing his sword. “Scar, wake up!” he called, holding his sword at the ready between him and the monster. “I don’t want to fight you!”

Vex-Scar grinned diabolically, but his eyes shifted from Impulse to Grian. Horrified, Impulse realized what he was going to do, and surged forward to attack.

Vex-Scar lunged at the unconscious knight. Impulse intercepted him just in time, slamming him to the ground with the flat of the heavy blade as the Vex’s claws gouged Grian’s chest plate, the big man’s attack making those claws fall short of their intended target. Vex-Scar immediately fell through into the ground, Impulse’s sword bouncing off the hard dirt and grass.

‘He’s targeting Grian!’ Impulse realized, feeling a lump of cold in his gut. Quickly, and not nearly as gently as he would have liked, he scooped Grian up with one arm and slung him over his shoulder, holding his large sword one-handed.

Vex-Scar slashed upward where Grian had been just a second before. The monster’s eyes locked laughingly onto Impulse’s face. “You’re a quick one.”

“Nah, you’re just slow.” In Impulse’s peripheral vision, he saw Mumbo riding hard over the flowery meadow. Involuntarily his eyes flicked that way, then he made a point to look the other way. Eyes back on the vexed creature, heavy sword held at the ready, he sidestepped toward the forest, hoping the floating Vex-Scar wouldn’t see the rider in the clearing.

Vex-Scar chuckled, an unpleasant, rasping sound. “You should have run.”

There was no more room for words. Vex-Scar dove at him, giving a barrage of slashes and strikes with a speed and power far stronger than his own. Impulse blocked and stumbled back, shielding himself and Grian as he kept the monster’s eyes fully on him, backing away deeper into the woods. Every block sent a shock through his arm, threatening to knock his only defense loose.

A tree root betrayed him, and he lost his footing. He fell back, almost dropping his sword and his companion, the tip of his sword on the ground and the hilt above his head. Laughing with sick glee, Vex-Scar almost struck again when Jellie leaped into his face.

He started to a halt, all his attention now on the ghostly, friendly, little familiar. His eyes already regained their natural dark color, and his skin started losing their glow, and color was starting to seep back into his hair, starting at the roots.

“Jellie!” Vex-Scar said in his raspy voice. “Where have you…”

Right then, Mumbo beaned him over the head with his small rocket launcher, knocking the man clean out.

#boatem knights au #applestruda #grian hermitcraft #scar hermitcraft #goodtimeswithscar #impulsesv #impulse hermittcraft #pearlecentmoon #mumbo jumbo #pearl hermitcraft #mumbo hermitcraft #jellie #grian minecraft

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gemma-collins-ily · 1 year

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Can I ask for a fic with Mal where the reader is getting bullied by some guys and storms off, and then later Mal finds out and like beats the guys up or something like that and it turns into a friends to lovers? If you can’t it’s fine :). I love your other work so I thought to request something of mal because I don’t see him getting enough attention lol. Thanks!

The Print of Him Written There

a/n - I'm sorry this took so long, and it's kind of incomplete (has an ending but not the one I originally planned). I started off writing this a while ago, and then when I came back to it, I couldn't really find my footing.

You had convinced yourself a long while ago that your life was just meant to be a tragedy. Although, in quite the opposite fashion of a novella, yours had no desirable reciprocated romance, no forbidden love or meeting up with a secret lover: it was just you.

And Mal, you supposed.

He was a very viable candidate for your tragical romance, the two of you sharing moments often that made you gaze unsurely, eyes flitting over his face and breaths coming just a little heavier, you laughing and blaming it on the cold that seemed to be permanently enveloping wherever you went, in the place of the warm arms you wished for.

It wouldn't hurt to want the arms wrapping over you to be Mal's, would it? After all, your adoration was most certainly one-sided and probably slightly pathetic. Trying to cultivate his love would be like attempting to nurture flowers whilst roaming over the world, and never really returning to that first spot for enough of a time for it not to be too fleeting.

With your luck, the flowers with their charming, curling stems would be ripped out of the earth or wither away until weeds overtook them, swallowing them down, gluttonous beasts aiming to pull up their very roots by strangling them with their own.

Even thinking of his non-existent, hypothetical love could tug up those plants, replacing them with the green creatures crouching and festering below the soil; even considering it could show the seeds of... loathing from Mal. You just wouldn't risk it. Better safe than sorry.

So, the decision made that he was very much off-limits and a completely separate branch to your life's tree than any sort of endearing endeavour. You squatted, feet scratching over the dirt and fingers drawing swirling, cinnamon-beige patterns in the gravelly sand the wind had blown in from the coast, waiting for Mal to hurry with whatever he was doing.

To further convince you of your inevitable end, a group flocked behind their leader to approach you, sat up against the wall, brick upon brick digging uncomfortably into your back.

You pressed into the wall further.

They spat insults that were studded knives, cutting through flourished leaves and spectating as they turned a crinkled auburn whilst hitting the ground. And later, the lichen of belittlement grew, ensnaring you and dragging you to the dirt; you stayed stationary for a while before deciding enough was enough, daring to stand and brush off your clothes before shouldering through the group.

"Where'd you think you're going, little bird? Didn't you know, we still have a cage just waiting with your name on it? Saints, listening to your wails of self-pity may just make you the perfect songbird."

You shook your head and only went through the motions of dodging clawed hands that would surely catch your arm if you let them. Sighing, you shoved past in a much fiercer way, no longer caring for the potential of hurt to the people behind.

After what they had said, you thought you would rather watch them burn up in flames than care even slightly about their input.

Although, reaching your chest of belongings, your hands anchored themselves to its sides, splintered wood even knowing when to hold steadfast during the storm you embodied. Blunt fingernails dug to the wood's surface, eyes stinging but firmly dry in your definite anger and humiliation of the situation.

"Woah, what's this coming from?"

You didn't turn, simply stood, still straight-backed with arms left on the chest, eyes downcast. Eyes were trained on your back, you knew, no longer biting at gaping wounds made by words: you were certain of this because it was him. Mal.

Then, you were snapping out of a reverie that you thought malleable, readily shaped around your heart, the print of him written there.

The influence of love, as it rose from your chest, the rest of your body left numb, immovable, unnecessary for as long as you could gaze at him. You saw it in the stain sealant of the wooden chest before you, in the maroon scrawled swirls spread over your maps and in the way your eyes were steadily growing red at the edges as you caught your own gaze in the mirror.

And his questioning gaze, too.

"It's nothing, Mal." Saints, the words didn't sound anything like you wanted them to - weighted as gold, seeming to be just as valuable although intentioned to sound light and throwaway.

Now swivelling on your heel, you brushed past him, grasping a map and attempting not to claw it to tatters in your hands. You walked over to your scratched glass mirror, a shard broken off in the left corner, placing it flat on the desk before sliding down the edge of a chair, legs crumpled beneath you as you forced yourself to push on.

The map was opened and curled inwards quickly, you groaning. This could not be dealt with right now.

A tentative hand spread it over the floor again, pressing on one side while you were still holding the other.

Mal was crouched before you, head quirked to the side adorably, glancing at you before the depictions of parchment valleys. He sat beside you, hefting your legs atop his own as though second nature.

"So, what is it? Actually, I mean."

How well he knew you. How much it ached that he did.

"I'm asking to leave on an expedition tomorrow."

The statement hung in the air for a moment, untouched by you both, probably because you both felt it entirely too shocking - you had barely even known what would come out of your mouth before it was spoken into the air, unraveling and unable to be reeled in.

"Why?" Whatever you had expected, it hadn't been this. This was robust, a question spoken strongly, no quiver to be detected in his tone. This was what part of you was thinking, wondering how leaving was possibly a solution. Leaving was surrender, a back down.

And yet, it was one of the only things you could think to do.

"I just-" And you had no explanation you could give to him because even serving it on a gold rimmed platter would do nothing to stop how cowardly you felt, how awful you thought you were for leaving him.

"What? Tell me! Give me one reason... One reason, and I'll let you go."

You fumbled, hearing the desperation lining his voice as he moved to gently push your legs off his lap, instead moving so that he was knee to knee with you now, staring, trying to see any answer in your eyes.

Mal wasn't as angry as he was stern, ready to hear whatever you came up with. His eyebrows were pinched together, mouth downturned as he waited for you to bare your soul to him.

"It's one thing! Why are you going? Just tell me, what can be that bad?" He began with a voice that tapered off into something more quiet, small.

You hated this. You hated what you were doing to him.

And you hated it more when you stood, brushing yourself off and walking away, but not before placing a soft kiss on his cheek. An apology. One that you felt probably fell through.

Yet, you walked. Away from your space, your home, your Mal, for how could you stay to ruin them if you were giving up beforehand.

You walked like you planned to do the next morning. And he didn't dare follow.

You had been on expedition after expedition, sent anywhere and everywhere but where Mal was. He had come across you only once, pouring over the maps for your next trip.

He hadn't said a word, and you had only looked upon him with regret, already turning to leave. However, you did not blow out your candle in its holder, rather placing it down across a corner of his map folding inwards.

You both attempted to ignore the gnawing sense of dread and déjà vu constricting your hearts and lungs.

"Well, that was the worst escape attempt in history."

Saints, his voice almost rendered you useless.

"That wasn't the attempt." You wouldn't give it the opportunity to do so again. The softness between the two of you was long ago lost, flowers replaced by brambles and thorns, love bleeding through and, eventually, draining out.

You left, then.

Tears came to your eyes, making them glassy and reddened.

Friends you once were, lovers never to be.

#mal oretsev x reader #mal oretsev imagine #mal oretsev #malyen oretsev #shadow and bone x reader #shadow and bone x you #shadow and bone imagine #shadow and bone fic

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luveline · 3 years

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in the morning, afternoon and night [Fred Weasley x Reader]

tags: reader-insert, hurt/comfort, self esteem issues, low self esteem, reader has acne, sad reader, insecure reader

pairing: Fred Weasley x Reader

word count: 1.8k

You glared at your reflection.

You'd think with such amazing magical medicine available, some witch or wizard would've invented a cure for acne, or at least a spell that covered it up.

You'd struggled with it since your third year. The muggle doctor you'd seen with your mother had suggested it was hormonal, and would calm down as you got older.

That was years ago.

It shouldn't have been a big deal. It wasn't, really. It wasn't usually very painful, though it was itchy as a stinging nettle and twice as unsightly. A large part of you knew it wasn't your fault, that acne was something that simply affected people at different times in their lives. You'd tried topicals and changing your diet, you'd tried losing weight and exercising and dermaplaning and everything they suggested in your mams fashion magazines.

Nothing worked.

Tears welled in your eyes and you sniffed them back, blinking rapidly.

It might've been silly, but it honestly made you want to hide away. You'd skipped dinner without really thinking, finding your way into the girls bathroom you inhabited now. You straightened your tie and robes, dusting down the sides. You leaned forward again, dabbing under your eyes with your sleeve.

The last thing you wanted was for anyone to know you'd been crying, because then someone might ask why. You didn't want to talk about it, ever.

If Fred saw you like this...

You and Fred Weasley had been almost dating for a few weeks now. Almost, because you hadn't talked about the whole boyfriend/girlfriend thing yet.

It had been years of thinking he was the fittest boy in Gryffindor (besides George) and months of meeting his gaze in the corridors and catching his eye over dinner. Gradually it had become something more; he started carrying your books between classes and opening doors, touching your arms and your hair and your face.

You cringed at the memory. He had been so caring, moving to wipe an eyelash from the skin under your eye. You'd violently flinched from his hand, afraid he might feel the bumpy texture of your skin, feel the acne beneath your makeup. He'd been apologetic and a little confused, filling you with guilt. You hadn't been able to find a way to tell him it wasn't him, it was you. Of course you wanted him to touch you, the thought of him cradling your face had been the subject of many dizzy daydreams, but you just couldn't tell him this one thing.

It was your deepest insecurity.

The stress had only made it worse. Redness was easy to cover with muggle make up and even some wizarding tricks you'd learned over the years, but there wasn't a way to smooth your skin, and the acne was textured.

It was depressing. You didn't want to use that word, it felt ungrateful to compare your skin issues to something so severe, but it made you miserable.

You but down on your quivering lip, pushing away from the mirror unhappily and opening the bathroom door, a frown on your face.

"Y/N!" a familiar voice said.

You jumped, startled but unsurprised. Fred had a talent of always knowing where you were. You'd find it creepy if he wasn't so endearing.

"Fred," you said, plastering a smile over your frown. "I was just coming to find you."

"What a coincidence, ma chérie, I was doing the same."

"Well," you began, easily sidling into his space, "you found me."

"Yes, I did," Fred hummed, wrapping his arms behind your neck, grinning.

He took a long look at your face, his forehead creased. "What's wrong?"

"Nothings wrong, Fred."

He moved his hands to your shoulders, looking down into your face searchingly. "Have you been crying?" he asked.

You shook your head, lying without thinking. "Something in my eye,"

"Both of them?"

You stepped backwards. He let go of your shoulders accordingly.

"Y/N?"

"It's really nothing," you said through a forced laugh.

He frowned at you for a few seconds more and his face cleared. "Alright," he said slowly, rolling the words in his mouth, "if you say so, doll."

You opened like a blooming flower at the pet name, your whole face softening. You smiled, hoping he understood that the smile meant, oh I just so adore you, Fred Weasley.

He threaded his fingers through yours, dragging you down the corridor beside him and waxing poetic about their newest lot of Peruvian darkness powder as you went.

It got so bad you couldn't go to class.

Okay, so you definitely could've gone to class, but the thought of leaving your curtained bed was enough to make you sick with anxiety, so worried that everyone would see you - see your face.

NEWTs were coming fast and hard. Everyone who wanted to be anyone was working hard studying their asses of, on top of Professor Umbridge's million new rules you had to abide by, including her newest life-ruining rule: Boys and girl are not to be within 5 inches of each other.

What a joke. You struggled through classes, wrote essays so long your hand burned at night and now you weren't allowed to sit next to your almost boyfriend at lunch? It was miserable. It was making you miserable, and now you may as well have sharpied on your forehead how equipped your body was to deal with it.

Fucking badly.

You groaned to yourself, rolling on your side to face the wall. You were at your wits end. It felt endlessly unfair that the thing that was stressing you out most was getting worse from stress.

Your stomach growled hungrily.

You threw your arm over your eyes in defeat, eyes finally filling with tears. You felt so hopeless. There was nothing to be done except keep up your routine until the flare up was over, or until your mothers next 'miracle cure' popped into existence.

The tears felt too hot against your sore skin. You couldn't help but sob quietly to yourself in self-pity.

A knock sounded at the door. You gasped, wiping the tears away in panic.

"Y/N?" It was Alicia. "Are you alright? Can I come in?"

"Yes," you managed. "Yes, of course. It's your room too, after all."

The door clicked open. Alicia appeared, tanned skin completely clear and glowing, though each perfect feature was marred with empathy. "Fred's been begging every girl in the common room to come fetch you, but I told him to leave you be."

"Thank you," you said.

You cleared your throat. Alicia moved her weight from foot to foot, twisting her hands.

"I- Y/N. I won't pretend to know how it feels, but I promise you, Fred won't care. He's beside himself worrying that you're bedridden and dying or-" she laughed to herself, "or that you're still mad at him for the itching powder. What I mean is... he's a good guy, and you're upset. Maybe you should tell him what's wrong. He won't care."

You sniffed. "I know," you admitted, feeling the weight of her shifting the bed. "I know he's a great guy. I just wouldn't blame him if he, if he didn't like me anymore. If he found it ugly. I would understand it, and I think that makes it worse," you choked on your words, heat building behind your eyes.

"Oh, Y/N," Alicia said, placing a tentative but comforting hand on your shoulder.

You lay in quiet, listening to your own ragged breathing.

"I'll go talk to him," Alicia said.

"No! I mean, no. Thank you, but no. I... I'll speak to him myself."

Alicia nodded, rubbing your arm kindly.

The sound of the door clicking shut behind her finally spurred you into sitting up. You dressed in a hurry, chucking a wool jumper over last nights pyjamas.

He wouldn't care, would he? You cringed. Yes, he definitely would. Whatever was between you would stop. He'd have the grace to let you down slowly, drawing away his affections. He was a polite guy, he'd probably even say the whole spiel of "it's not you, it's me". But he would, eventually.

Well, you figured. Let it be quick. Like ripping off a bandaid.

You tread lightly down the steps, hoping to see him before he saw you.

Of course, when the slightest groan on the bottom step sounded, his lovely face whipped to meet yours. He smiled in relief, but it was mixed with something else. Disgust, your brain supplied nastily. He was disgusted. He rose to his feet, smiling smiling smiling. But something in his eyes was different, now.

"Y/N," he said.

"Hi," you said.

"Hi yourself, beautiful. Where've you been all day?"

"I'm... sick. Bad cold," you settled on.

He raised an eyebrow. "You sound okay," he said, not unkindly.

"I..." you looked down at your hands.

A siren was sounding in your head. You didn't think Fred had seen you without make up for the last 3 years. Fight or flight was leaning heavily towards flight.

"Well, are you hungry?"

You shook your head.

"Are you sure? You haven't eaten all day. You need something in your system if you're gonna fight this cold."

"I'm not actually sick, Fred," you admitted under your breath.

"I know."

You looked up. He was still smiling kindly. It was infuriating.

"Look," you said finally, rushed and all at once, "if you don't want to- if you're grossed out. Then it's fine, I'll understand if you don't want to see me anymore."

Fred was stricken.

"I know it's - ugly."

"Ugly? Nothing about you is ugly."

"Fred, my face-"

"No, listen to me, Y/N. It's not ugly. It's not gross. You're not any of those things, are you kidding?" he said, grabbing your hands. "You're beautiful. All the time, in the morning, afternoon and night. You're beautiful in charms and transfiguration and care of magical creatures. You were beautiful yesterday and you're beautiful today and you'll be even more so tomorrow." He stopped suddenly, looking down at your joined hands. His cheeks had turned bright red.

"Smooth, Freddie," came George's voice, from the sofa behind them.

"Shove OFF," exclaimed Fred, growing more red by the second. Heat filled your own cheeks.

"It's skin, Y/N. That's all it is."

"Okay," you said tightly, trying not to cry.

Fred breathed out, his hair shifting in response. His corded arms pulled you tight to his chest. You breathed him in. He smelled sweet and rough, like burning caramel.

He thought you were beautiful.

You smiled into his shirt.

<3<3<3

tag list: @msmimimerton

if you’d like to be added to a tag list, please ask ! for in general or for specific characters, i don’t mind

#fred wealsey fic #fred weasly x reader #fred weasley #harry potter imagine #fred Weasley imagine #fred Weasley x reader #reader insert #reader has acne #reader is an unreliable narrator #reader x fred Weasley #fred Weasley fanfic #fred Weasley fluff #hurt/comfort #Fred weasley x reader

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unfoundhoney · 3 years

Text

a sister’s sacrifice ; part three ↠

↠ platonic!c!sleepy bois inc x fem!reader , platonic!c!tubbo x fem!reader ; angst just angst

↠ masterlist

↠ part one ; part two ; part three ;

↠ @leafyturtle @basheverythingyesterday @terribletoothbat @bestioe @junoblad3 @machiebach @ok-honey

when considering the deaths of the people on the dream smp server, yours is the hardest

schlatt was detested by all when he’d died

few people still truly cared for wilbur when he met his end; the man he once was was long gone by then

but you

you never changed

you were a constant for so many & immovably kind to the rest

selfless, giving, caring

even when you just wanted an escape, you came to the aid of your brothers

you gave the ultimate sacrifice & paid the price

everyone mourns you

when the battle is won & dream locked away indefinitely

once everyone has come down from the high of freeing themselves from dream’s reign, the server goes into a state of grieving

there’s no denying your death

they all saw the message in chat

you’re dead

those that were close to you took it hard

niki was narrowly stopped from burning down the bakery you encouraged her to open and helped build

eret put her emotions into work on a memorial in their museum for you

even under the egg’s control, bad & ant put the eggpire aside for you

of course, those who took it the hardest is your family

when ghostbur learns of your death, he’s distraught

he doesn’t quite know how to handle the information

he protects your home & only allows people to enter when he supervises them

tommy took a while to move past his anger & deal with the fact that you’re gone

tubbo ran off to start snowchester

he chose to distract himself rather than truly process his emotions, even if you’d always done your best to break that habit of his

now that you’re not around, who’s to stop him from letting himself be numb to it all?

techno is another one of your family members who chose to barely acknowledge your passing

he became somehow more monotonous & emotionless

and phil

...

there’s no word for a parent who loses a child

wilbur was gone & of course it messed phil up to be the one to take will’s last life but by that point his son was gone

but you

you’d always been such a genuinely good person

phil did so little for you as a father

he was so absent

he never apologized to you for that

he never told you how much he loves & appreciates you & everything you’ve done to keep their family together when he couldn’t be bothered

it’s a few hours after he received the news from ranboo that all the guilt for everything he had ever put you through hit him

he broke down in his kitchen while trying to distract himself by organizing his cupboards

but all he could think about was you

you & your never ending kindness & compassion

he was never a father to you

yet you never hated him

why couldn’t you have hated him?

it would hurt less to lose you if you hated him; it’s what he deserves

he’s unworthy of your love

but he can only dwell so long on you

you are given a proper funeral

you’re buried by the seashore, somewhere between l’manberg and tommy’s abandoned vacation homes in an open field

the sever members plant so many flowers, your gravesite becomes a flower field

but soon, life goes on

it will only hurt for longer to draw out the mourning period

it would do no good for anyone

besides, you wouldn’t want the server to be sad for your sake

techno supposes it’s for the best that you died

he does his best to move on, filling his days with resource gathering and upgrading his tools, weapons, and armor while trying to think through his emotions logically

as much as he liked you

as much as everyone liked you, you were too good

you were the best of them

fate is not kind to heroes

“hello!”

technoblade is not an easy man to sneak up on, let alone scare

the greeting itself isn’t want startles him

it’s turning toward the voice to lock eyes with you

you who is dead

techno is not proud of the sound he made when he saw you but you of all people wouldn’t make fun of him for it

he just stares at you, slowly realizing what’s happened

you look desaturated, the color drained from your clothes

your skin is grey & almost translucent

you’re a ghost

“y/n.”

“hello! who are you?”

techno tells no on one of your ghost form

he even keeps the rest of the server a secret from you

he leads you to your old home & leaves you there w/ ghostbur

he hopes your and ghostbur’s combined amnesia will keep you out of harm’s way i.e. the rest of the server

he visits you occasionally but mostly leaves you be

you live happily with ghostbur for a while

he is very glad to have you back

his memory is nearly as bad as yours, so the story of the server & what happened to you when you were alive is only given to you in bits & pieces that are near impossible to fit together

it was only a matter of time before someone came to visit your house

“...y/n?”

it’s tubbo who finds you first

or he finds your ghost

(tubbo) y/n! oh my god! you’re a ghost! you’ve come back!

(you) hello! *whispers* ghostbur, who is this?

(ghostbur, whispering obviously) that’s tubbo, one of your other brothers i’ve told you about

(you, whispering) oh, right

(tubbo) how long have you- oh, this is incredible! i have to tell tommy! he’s been so sad since you died; he’ll be so glad to see you!

tubbo messages tommy, who is skeptical but reluctantly comes to your house anyway

but there you are

your ghost anyway

which is good enough, honestly

(tommy) y/n!

you catch him in a hug easily, even if you’ve never met him before

(tommy) you’re alive!

(you) no i’m not. i’m a ghost!

techno happens to check in on you when tubbo & tommy are there

bad news for technoblade: you’d told them about techno leading you here

meaning: tommy knows techno hid you from him & everyone else

needless to say, he is not too happy about that

(tommy) you hid her! you kept her away from us!

(techno) tommy, you have to understand-

(tommy) i don’t have to understand shit! you hid her from us! you lied to us!

(techno) tommy-

(tommy) you kept her from everyone! you’re selfish and you’re a liar and you’re horrible and-

(techno) i did it to protect her! she’s been hurt enough protecting others; it’s our turn to protect her. the only way we can do that is by leaving her alone

(tommy) she’s my sister

(techno) your sister is dead, tommy. for once in her life, let her have peace

tommy gives up on techno & goes to you instead

(tommy) y/n! y/n, we can bring you back. we can revive you. well, dream can revive you but he’s in prison so he has to do what we say so we can bring you back. we can be a family again. don’t you want to come back?

(you) ...no

that

...

that isn’t what tommy was expecting

(tommy) what?

(you) if alive y/n comes back, i won’t exist anymore. and i’ve only just got here. i don’t want to go yet

(tommy) don’t you understand how much y/n means to me? y/n has to come back. she has to. she’s so important. not just to me but to, um... tubbo as well! right, tubbo? don’t you want y/n back?

tommy looks to tubbo for some backup but the shorter boy looks away

(tubbo) i think we need to let y/n go, tommy

the betrayal that fills tommy’s chest is soon gone as he locks eyes with techno

tommy knows techno is right

you’re too much of a good person

you’re too willing to sacrifice yourself for others

even as a ghost your kindness is blinding

this server will only drain you of everything you have yet again

he will drain you of everything you are

he’s just tried to convince you to cease to exist to bring back the former version of yourself

(you) i’m sorry. it’s just- i’ve heard there are these really pretty blue flowers in the swamp biome that i haven’t got to see yet-

(tommy) no. it’s fine. i’m sorry. i-... i should go.

tommy leaves your house & tubbo goes with him

even if tubbo caught on a bit sooner to techno’s reasoning, he’s still concerned at his friend’s sudden change in character

(tubbo) tommy... are you alright?

(tommy) ...i really want her back

(tubbo) i do, too. but she’s gone

(tommy) she doesn’t have to be

tubbo can’t argue with that

(tommy) but... maybe it’s for the best

(tubbo) really?

(tommy) yeah.

(tubbo) but just earlier you were telling me about your plan to get the revive book from dream

(tommy) techno’s right, tubbo. all everyone- myself included- has ever done to y/n is take. and she’s given everything

(tubbo) because she loved us

(tommy) as much as she loved us and as much as we loved her... the only thing we’ve ever brought her is pain. i think now... now is her time to rest.

(tubbo) ...that’s very pog champ of you, big man

tommy had planned to visit dream as many times as it took to get the revive book location off of him so he could revive you, but now he’s accepted that he needs to move on

he needs to move on from you & dream & everything dream has put him through

he decides to pay one last visit to dream, put him behind him, & never look back

he’s ready to start a new chapter in his life, one without dream

and the first one without you

but then he’s locked in the prison

two weeks pass

nearing three weeks & tommy still isn’t allowed out of dream’s cell

he’s irritated and annoyed and most of all he’s scared

but he can’t let dream know he’s still afraid of him, that’s why he pisses dream off enough to the point of being beat to death

tommy begs him to stop

but then he’s gone

everything is dark

black

empty

nothing

is this what death is?

conscious in absolute nothingness?

tommy’s feet feel the ground beneath him

his senses come back to him

it’s still dark but he feels as though he can see again

where is he?

heaven?

no, probably hell

or maybe neither?

both...?

what the hell happened?

the first thing to break the silence is the voice tommy has known since he was an infant

the voice of the person who raised him

the voice of the person who has always been there for him

the voice of the person who he has finally let go of

your voice

saying one simple word

“tommy?”

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lonely-lost-soul · 3 years

Text

A Pirate's Life for Me

Cover Art Done By: @fridaydev-draws and @friday-dsv (Dreamsmp x reader) Pirate Au! Love Interests: C!Wilbur, C!Techno, C!Dream, C!Sapnap, C!Quackity, and C!Schlatt

~~~

Salt burned your lungs as you tossed open your window with a loud bang, the seagulls perching on your flower boxes screeched in protest and flew from your window. “Fucking sky rats get the fuck out of here you heathens!” You snarled out the window shaking your fist at the bothersome birds, the sounds of the ocean crashing on the shore filled your ears as well as the chatter of the dock workers. You let the breeze blow back your hair and you heard someone calling your name from down below.

“Good morning (Y/n)!” You glanced below you and grinned,

“Morning Eret!” They waved back enthusiastically their dress spilling around their ankles, a basket of fruit was balanced on his hip. “Opening early today? I'm sure your patrons would be happy to start their drunken stupor early,” She held a hand to his mouth snickering and you shot them a look.

“If that gets more money in my pocket then so be it, I won't complain too much.” You shrugged, “Will I still see you later tonight?”

“Always do dove, how can I resist a drink from my favorite bartender.”

“You can’t it’s my charm.”

“Will the both of you shut the fuck up!” Another man’s voice growled from another open window, “It’s too early for your bullshit.” You saw Eret click his tongue but smiled up at you despite the man's protests,

“I’m heading to the market anyway. These fruits won’t sell themselves, I'll see you later.”

“See you soon!” You closed your windows once more, but not before urging your daisies to grow one last time. You tossed open the curtains allowing light to spill into your cozy home, a small carpet was in the middle of your room. It was a deep red and the pattern was made of gold yarn, aside from that everything in your residency was made of dark wood. Your shelves were littered with books and empty cups, and your old worn journal sat open on your desk. It was filled with childhood memories and you continued to write in it to this day, it was easier then, things were simple and everything was innocent and new to you. Now your days were filled with sea fairing idiots who liked to drink themselves stupid, but you could handle yourself, you always kept your father's dagger on your thigh at all times. Those who were frequent customers knew not to mess with you and those who were new learned their lesson within the first ten minutes of meeting you. You inherited the bar from your father, a kindhearted man who died a few years before today, leaving you with the bar and the dagger you had on your hip. You fished through your closet pulling out your clothes for the day, your dress was a gorgeous light coffee color and came down to your ankles. The bottom was flared and had dark brown panels on the sides, it faded inward to a light green then back to the coffee color. The corset around your waist was a dark brown with light green trim, you tied it tight with a small huff making sure your waist was sinched perfectly. The sleeves came down to your elbows allowing you to move your arms freely while making drinks. The top of the dress ended just below your collarbone, you strapped your dagger to your thigh before lacing up your knee-high black boots.

You thought back to your tavern downstairs, you were fortunate enough that you weren’t running this entire operation yourself. You ended up hiring help and they were like family and you knew they saw you as such as well. Most of the girls didn’t have a family of their own so you gave them room and board, also money, of course, you weren’t a terrible boss! You opened the door to your room, you watched Cecil, the tavern’s mascot trot out of Juniper’s room. The border collie liked to switch up which rooms he stayed in protecting every one of your girls when you couldn’t be there for them.

The first of your girls was Adelaide or Addie, she was one of the first to fall under your care. She was around your age, a motherly type, sheep hybrid, who cared for the girls, and always gave the drunk patrons with mommy issues a shoulder to cry on. Her long brown hair always hung down her back, she typically worked tables, served food and drinks, and always got a generous tip from patrons.

The next girl was Judas, a squid-enderman hybrid who was taller than you could ever wish to be, although intimidating you couldn’t meet a kinder woman. A jack of all trades the woman helped out wherever she could, black-ish purple hair curled around her shoulders and some people came specifically to hear her sing. Her voice was like rich velvet and lured men and women in like a siren.

Juniper was after Judas, a demon hybrid who was naive but you’d be a fool to underestimate her. She worked beside you at the bar, she can make some mean fruity drinks, Eret always preferred her drinks over yours. Freckles adorned her face and shoulders, her light brown hair curled down to her middle back, purple horns sprouted from the top of her head. You wanted to adorn it with gold jewelry and you were saving up to gift some to her.

Yeti was a human woman like yourself, she didn’t bother with those who were rude or obnoxious. She kept to herself only really talking when she was spoken to or when there was an opportunity to crack a rare joke. She typically stayed on the sidelines, out of the scenes and Yeti liked to help Judas decorate her sets.

Zig was a kind young adult, they got along with everyone who came inside the tavern. Soft emerald eyes drew people in, and they tried to make sure tensions within the bar didn’t rise and start a fight. There would always be one or two that’s just natural, but one look at Zig and his magic words and they seemed to disperse, not wanting to hurt the kid’s feelings.

Vendetta was the tallest member of the group you had taken in, she was stunningly beautiful and didn't take shit from anybody. She was a guard dog if you will, making sure no one fucked with any of the girls in your tavern. While Zig did their best to keep people under control sometimes they couldn’t win. That’s when Ven would step in and ‘kindly’ escort them off the premises with or without force.

The youngest member here was Luvena. She was a moo-bloom hybrid with soft brown hair that sprouted flowers, her cow ears would twitch when she was excited and followed Addie around like she was her daughter. Addie took her under her wing and was training her to be a perfect little waitress, absolutely warming customers’ hearts. Luvena also loved to give out flowers, she was a fan favorite bringing new life into the tavern.

Cecil barked seeing his mama and scampered over to you, you poured food into his bowl as Juniper wandered into the hallway. Her head rested on the doorframe as she gave you a tried wave, “Morning (Y/n).”

“Morning Juni, We’re opening a little early today. Take your time I’m not expecting a big rush of bar patrons this early.” You assured her and she gave a sleepy nod,

“I’ll be down as soon as Ven’s out of the shower.” She yawned, “This beauty doesn’t come naturally.”

“Hardly darling you’re gorgeous just the way you are.” You reassured with a wink, Juniper flushed a little, happily laughing beside you.

“Just go wake the others will you, you flirt!”

Tossing your head back you gave a happy laugh heading down the hallway to make sure everyone was awake and ready to go for later. Addie and Luvena shared a room so she was in charge of waking up the youngest member of the tavern. Judas was already awake making breakfast for everyone when you headed downstairs, Zig was sitting on the counter beside her, they were the designated taste tester.

“Good morning Miss (Y/n)!” Zig chirped, the young adult hummed fondly, “Sleep okay?”

“Absolutely. What about you both? Thank you for making breakfast Judas.” You hummed fondly and Judas had a shy smile on her face.

“I slept well thank you.” Judas hummed softly, “Also it’s my pleasure. Want to make sure everyone’s healthy and alright.” She let out a little squeak as you wrapped your arms around her body, you barely came up to her chest,

“Judas please marry me,” You complained, “Your breakfast is always heavenly and you care for everyone. Please be my wife.”

“(Y/n)! Please.” She sputtered face turning a dark purple, Zig made a noise of protest and held his hand in the air.

“If she won’t marry you I will!”

“Zig! I’d be honored!”

Their entire face lit up with excitement and they hopped off the table to hug you tightly, you hugged them back and pressed a fond kiss to the top of their head. “I got to open up the tavern, you mind setting the table for me Zig?”

“Sure Miss!”

You sent Judas a kiss in the air which her face burned at, quickly going back to her cooking. You smiled eagerly and unlocked the door to the tavern, you shoved a bucket in front of the door to keep it open. The salty ocean air wafted through your nostrils and your eyes sparkled wondrously.

Today is going to be a good day.

Almost immediately a particular bastard caught your eye,

“You’re here early.” You mused raising an eyebrow,

“Heard you were opening early today sweetcheeks,” His voice was a low baritone, rough from years of smoking and drinking. Horns curled around his fluffy ears that stood out against his gruff exterior, he was a ram hybrid at its finest. “Figured I’d take the opportunity to get a special drink from my special girl,” He mused looking you up and down drinking in your figure. You scoffed at the retired man, he dressed like he was cosplaying captain jack sparrow, the gun’s in his belt just added to his costume and so did his large ruffled shirt, he was never one to forget his gold jewelry.

“Where’s Quackity?” You ignored him sitting him at his usual table, he frowned but you knew he was taking it as an opportunity to stare at your ass. He slid into the stool and put his feet up on the table, his boots were muddy but you could only control him so much. He was too much of a regular to get scared off by your threats and scolding.

“He’ll be in at his normal time. He’s not much of a day drinker, although can’t say I’m complaining. Having all your attention on me and all, considering I’m the only one in here. That being said, I’ll have my usual sweetcheeks.”

“Stop calling me that,” You scolded with a certain fondness that was reserved for the man. “You’re lucky you’re my favorite regular Schlatt,” you gave his ears a fond pinch and he bleated. He sent you a scalding look as you walked away, although the look soon fell as he got a good look at your ass once again.

“I’m your only regular sugar tits!”

“Schlatt feet off the table.” Addie criticized whacking his boots with a rolled-up menu, he rolled his eyes but dropped his feet to the floor. “You should know this by now, we go through this every day.”

“Yeah, yeah little lamb I’m on it. Judas here?”

“She’s always here,” She huffed spreading the menu down on the table. “Do you want your usual or something different? Should I get Quackity’s drink ready too?”

“Nah just stick with mine, for now, tell Judas I’d like to see her.”

Addie clicked her tongue and placed her hand on her hip, “fine. But if you’re just going to grossly flirt with her as you do with (y/n), then keep it to yourself.”

“You’re not the boss of me. Just because you look like an old hag-” The way she glared at him sent a chill down his spine, “shit babe take a joke will you.”

Eventually, people began to file into the tavern, as the morning faded into the afternoon and then into the evening. The tavern was bustling with life, Judas’s elegant voice traveled through the crowds and her voices seemed to float above the voices. Quackity joined Schlatt by his side seemingly irritated by a conversation they were having, Schlatt was about five drinks in at this point, which was much less than his usual, and Quackity on his second.

“What are they talking about?” Luvena asked swinging her legs as she sat on the bar beside you. Her moobloom ears twitching every so often as she tried to eavesdrop on their conversation,

“Vena it’s impolite to eavesdrop.” You scolded bopping her on the head lightly, she whined and rubbed the top of her head.

“I wasn’t!” She argued as you rolled your eyes, you looked over at the two men to find Quackity looking over at you. His hand was raised in the air, one finger was up summoning you to get him another drink.

“I’ll be back, why don’t you talk to Ven while I’m gone. She’ll keep an eye on you.”

“I don’t need a babysitter!”

“Good thing she doesn’t want to babysit your ass either, now shoo.” You motioned her to hop off the bar and she did so with a long, dramatic sigh. You looked over at Ven who gave you a silent nod, letting you know she’d watch out for the youngest member of your band of misfits. Meanwhile, you grabbed Quackity another drink and walked over to the two men at the table, “Someone order a drink?”

“Aye! Mamacita! Fancy seeing you here.” Quackity purred a bright smile spreading across his face seeing that you were the one to deliver his drink,

“Hey Big Q,” You greeted placing the drink in front of him, “You doing okay?”

“Better now that an angel walked into my sight,” He flirted and you rolled your eyes. “What? It’s true! You always brighten my day you know? Ow!” Schlatt hit his ex-first mate over the head,

“Take a breath lover boy. Thanks for the drink sugar tits.”

“You’re welcome, what were the both of you talking about if I may ask.” You hummed grabbing some of Schlatt’s empty glasses, an uncharacteristic frown came over both their faces. “Oh? Touchy subject?”

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. Just dishing out some old problems, most of which are better left unsaid.” He aimed that statement at Quackity, his jaw seemed clenched and Quackity’s brow furrowed in annoyance.

“Well I just want to remind the both of you,” You passed the tray of empty glasses over to Addie as she walked by, she took them swiftly. You grabbed the side of both their heads and pressed them against your chest, not that you knew but both men’s flushed to the tips of their ears. “No physical fights are allowed in this tavern. If one starts I won’t hesitate to kick your fucking asses. Got it?” They looked over your chest and locked eyes with one another, after years on the sea they could read one another’s facial expressions rather easily and at that moment they shared the same thought,

‘They should fight more often.’

“I said, got it?”

“Yes ma’am,” The repeated simultaneously as you pulled away,

“That’s what I like to hear-”

“(Y/n)!” Vendetta’s velvety voice called out from behind you, you turned and saw a group of newcomers file into your bar. Your body tensed momentarily,

Pirates.

Schlatt turned his head to follow your gaze and he tensed from behind you, “fuck me.” He growled and Quackity raised an eyebrow at his captain, he turned to look over his shoulder and his face lit up.

“Sapnap!”

The pirate who had a white bandana tied around his forehead glanced over at him and a smile lit up across his features. “Quackity? Is that you?”

“My man!” He stood up from his chair heading over to wrap the man in a hug, “I haven’t seen you in years, man.” You zoned out of their conversation eyes locking with a few of the other pirates who walked into the tavern. Vendetta and Addie both greeted them, but everyone who was under your care knew to keep their guard up around pirates. From what you could gather there seemed to be two crews, a crew of what only seemed to be two, Sapnap was included. The fire demon was still talking with Quackity, while the other man took in the view of the tavern, he had shaggy blonde hair, and had a few scars across his face. A porcelain mask sat on top of his head, a forest green cloak was around his shoulders, his hood was lowered around his neck. A sword was strapped tight against his hip and there was another dagger that seemed to be tucked against his side. His eyes gazed towards you and he winked teasingly with a coy smile, you scoffed looking over at Addie.

“Seat those two gentlemen yeah? Be careful, I’ll tell Ven and Yeti to keep an eye.” Addie looked at you, concern written on her soft features but she nodded. While Addie departed, you noticed Ven talking with the other group. Luvena was hiding behind Vendetta’s long legs, although a tall blonde boy seemed very keen on talking to her. You smoothed out your dress and moved towards the group of three, you eyed them up casually. The blonde looked to be around Luvena’s age, he had a shit-eating grin on his face and his uniform matched that of the second tallest in the group. The second tallest was clad in a light blue jacket with large golden buttons on the red collar. He had a cream-frilled shirt underneath and a black belt holding up his brown slacks, those were tucked into black boots. On his back seemed to be a guitar and was the only one of them not holding a weapon, but you knew better than to assume with pirates. His curly brown hair seemed to bounce every time he talked, he seemed to be the ringleader but there was no doubt that the real ringleader was the hybrid standing beside him. He was taller, on par with Vendetta in height, he had long pink hair that was tied in a ponytail on top of his head. A few pieces framed his face elegantly, there was no doubt he was the captain of the little crew that was in your tavern. He had a white shirt on with a deep low cut ‘V’ it showed off a good portion of his scared chest, around his shoulders sat a deep red jacket but his arms were outside of it and crossed over his chest. He seemed content on letting his second in command do all the talking, his red eyes were the only ones to meet yours. His head tilted upwards and before Vendetta could stop him he walked over towards you,

“You own the tavern?” His voice was a low monotone and it sent an array of pleasant chills up your spine.

“I do,” You raised an eyebrow crossing your arms over your chest, “Names (Y/n). You are?”

“Captain Technoblade of the ship Odyssey, I was hoping you had a few rooms and a table available. My brothers and I are pretty exhausted, we’ve been sailing all night.”

Brothers, they certainly didn’t all look alike, but then again you certainly had a mix of girls in your care. Your tongue swiped against the top row of your teeth, “Why don’t you and your brothers take a seat at the bar for now. Juniper will be happy to serve you, I’ll see if we have some free rooms available.”

“Thank you, once you return I’ll introduce them to you if you’d like,” Technoblade bowed his head before turning back to get his brother’s attention.

“I’d like that thank you.” You gave a nod motioning for Vendetta to follow you as you slid behind the bar with Juniper, Judas had also taken a spot sitting on the bar. You figured you’d let her know as well, considering she was another adult figure in the group. You knew either Juniper or Judas would fill in Addie considering the three were close. “Ven, can they be trusted?”

“Not too sure about the masked man, the one Quackity seems to be familiar with seems decent enough. He’s a fire demon though, could smell him from miles away, we all just need to be cautious.”

“Agreed,” Juniper added tapping her finger on her chin. “We should just try to curb all fighting if at all possible, what did the captain of the other group ask you?”

“They want a room, I’m about to check to see if we have availability. Thoughts on that?”

Judas let out a low hum her eyes followed both sets of pirate groups around the tavern, “I say if we have availability let them stay. They seem harmless so long as we don’t mess with them, which we’d never do.”

“Plus I can always stay awake to keep an eye on them.” Vendetta tapped her nails against the table,

“You sure.”

“As if I’d let anything happen to any of you, you’re my family.”

You all smiled softly, and you noticed Judas’s eyes widen, “Zig! Get that out of your mouth this instant!” She shot up from her spot and over to the person in question. The three of you laughed fondly at the nonsense, meanwhile, Juniper saw the three brothers sit at her bar. She moved away from you to greet them, you immediately could tell she was taken with the second eldest brother.

He seemed to be an absolute lady killer.

Vendetta ruffled your hair before going back to stand at her place by the door to keep the peace. You headed up the stairs to the rafters to check on the extra rooms you had, “Excuse me?” You tensed visibly turning around to face the man in all green. His eyes were mesmerizing, a fierce jade green to contrast his cloak, “Do you happen to have two rooms available?” The man held up two fingers to clarify his request,

“Do you usually start introductions with a blatant request like that?”

He chuckled a smile spreading across his lips, “I’m Dream and you gorgeous?”

“(Y/n), it’s your lucky day I’m about to check and see if any are available. My tavern is a hot commodity tonight.”

“Well, I can see why,” he spoke and you raised an eyebrow and tilted your head to the side.

“Oh?”

“It has the hottest owner around. Word spreads fast.”

You couldn’t believe this man was making your cheeks burn, he chuckled softly taking a step towards your figure. “Oh really, word spreads that fast on the open sea, Captian?” It was his turn to turn light pink, but he covered it up quickly with a chuckle.

“Touché.”

“I’ll get on that room for you and your friend. Take a seat, for now, this part is for guests and staff only you know?”

“So I have you all to myself?” He cheekily mused, he stepped towards you and before you knew it you were pinned against a wall. His hand suddenly brushed against your cheek, it was cold in comparison to your warm cheek. You felt Dream’s thumb brush against your cheek slowly, “You know...being on the open sea alone does something to a person.”

“Oh, I’m sure.” You mused pushing your forehead back against Dream’s, “All alone with only your crew with you.” Taking his other hand within your own you slid it up to your hip, you saw his entire face turn red as he stared down at your chest. “You’re probably missing a little love in your life, aren’t you Dreamy?” He nodded dumbly, his eyes still not leaving your chest,

Perfect. You weren’t going to let some pirate boy get the better of you.

He let out a grunt of pain as you spun him around and pressed his head into the wall with your elbow, your other hand has his pinned behind his back. “This hallway is for staff and guests only,” You purred in his ear before letting him go and swinging your hips before heading up the stairs fully. From behind you, Dream’s face was a deep, dark red and he had to clear his throat. Dream wasn’t going to let you go after that, I mean look at you, tough and able to hold your own, it awakened something inside him.

After checking up on the rooms you headed back down into the main hall, three-room keys in your hand. Glancing over at the scene in front of you, you saw Juniper dancing in the middle of the tavern the flirtatious brother at her side. Judas was sitting beside Schatt and Quackity at the bar, Addie was tending to Technoblade and the blonde at their little table. Dream and Sapnap were whispering to one another in the corner but still seemed to be enjoying the show. Vendetta was smiling softly by the door, beside her were Luvena and Zig both playing various instruments. You noticed Eret was also amongst the crowd, she had a brilliant grin on his face, it was flushed pink with alcohol and you smiled to yourself.

It was peaceful, and for a moment you forget half the patrons were scoundrels or pirates.

That was until the man dancing with Juniper locked eyes with you, his eyes lit up and he spun Juniper off into Addie’s arms. She giggled snuggling into the mother sheep’s arms, you heard a distressed “Juni! I’m holding glasses!” Before your vision was overtaken by the handsome flirt.

“Hello love,” He hummed, “May I offer you a dance?”

You were about to refuse but you saw Yeti, who finally made her appearance as it was getting closer to Judas’s set, giving you a big thumbs up “I’d be honored.” You responded taking his hand within your own, he pulled you out onto the dance floor and you felt his other hand politely hover on the small of your back. He allowed you to lean into his touch as he began to elegantly spin you around the dance floor, you were almost embarrassed to say felt like a princess. “Maybe I could get your name?” You asked above the music, “Since it seems you’re my dance partner this evening?”

“Wilbur Soot my love.” He hummed proudly, “The first mate of the ship Odysseus at your service. Plus I play music on the side.”

“Well now you need to play for us,” Wilbur twirled you around in a circle,

“Maybe one day. If you give me your name?”

“(Y/n) (L/n).”

“Beautiful name for a beautiful woman.”

“I was right.” You commented biting the bottom of your lip trying not to smile,

“About what?”

“You.”

“Ah? Already talking about me I see? Is my manliness and gentlemanly qualities that renowned?”

“Not exactly.” He picked you up slightly and pulled you into a low dip, “I was right in thinking you a nothing but a flirty playboy.” Wilbur almost dropped you, you squawked grabbing onto his neck. He began to laugh as you clung to his chest,

“Alright love. You caught me red-handed.”

Wilbur set you on your feet hands on your lower back, you were pulled close to his chest. “Can I buy you a drink?”

“I get them for free hon. I own the place.”

“Oh...oh.” He paled a little, “I didn’t fuck up our chances of getting a room did I?”

“Nah lucky for you and your brothers, I have you covered, same with your buddies over there.” You motioned to Dream and Quackity’s friend, Wilbur’s face paled as he felt the chilled room key get placed in his palm. “What’s your little brother’s name?”

“Tommy.”

“Tell them both we serve breakfast free from 7 am to 10 am.” He nodded as you walked past, Wilbur meanwhile turned to look at Technoblade. It seemed he had his red eyes on the couple the entire time they were dancing. He held up a room key, it was labeled 205; Technoblade nodded his head before leaning back and talking to Addie once more. “Dream!” You called throwing a hand up into the air, instead of Dream, Sapnap looked up he nudged Dream with his elbow. The man was now wearing his mask, but at least you could tell he was looking at you,

“Well hello, darlin’ you must be (Y/n). Name's Sapnap. Dream told me about you, so you have good news for us I hope?”

“Pleasure, I'm sure he told you all about me,” He nodded, his eyes taking in your body especially your ass. “Got you both a room key, your neighbors. Across from the other crew of pirates. Just don’t fight and we won’t have any problems.”

“You mean those jackasses are staying?” Sapnap complained loudly, looking over your shoulder at the other crew members.

“You both didn’t think you were the only patrons, did you? This is a business after all.” You, tossed the keys their way, Dream caught it with ease and Sapnap fumbled it only a little bit. After they were in their hands, you waved them off with a flutter of your palm you turned around to go speak with Judas about her set but before you could take a step you saw Schlatt stumbling up from his seat. “Ah shit,” You knew what was about to happen, you weren’t paying attention to the ram hybrid so who knew how many drinks in he was. You felt responsible, for a while you and Judas had been trying to help Schlatt with his addiction. You couldn’t help but wonder what exactly set him off for him to get this drunk, Quackity caught him in his arms with a grumble. The man was a drunken mess, and as you approached you could hear his slurred speech and could practically smell the alcohol on his breath. “Schlatt,” You spoke carefully and as soon as you got close Schlatt detached himself from Quackity and lunged at you. His head was buried in his chest, he almost purred like he was very happy to be there, you rolled your eyes and ran your fingers through his hair. You were mindful of his horns but he seemed pretty eager for you to touch them,

“(Y/n).” He whined although it was muffled against your ample chest, “Why do pirates have to fuck everything up?”

“What are you on about Schlatt? No one likes pirates.”

“They’re gonna take you away from me, sugar. You’re my safe space, this tavern is my safe space.” You sighed listening to his drunken ramblings, you grabbed his horns and pulled him away from your chest.

“This is my life Schlatt, I’m not going anywhere trust me. Plus my family is here, they need me. So try not to worry okay?” You slicked back the hair on his forehead before planting a fond kiss there, everyone in the tavern narrowed their eyes at the scene. Even your girls were green with envy, at the sight of their lovely boss kissing someone who wasn’t them. He leaned against your lips eyes fluttering closed,

“Well, well, well if it isn’t Captian Schlatt? Or ex-captain if I remember correctly.”

“What?”

You turned your head and felt Schlatt’s arms wrap around your waist and held you close to his chest. The touch was protective and you felt your heart skip a beat, why was he protecting you, and why did you actually feel protected?

“Has the drinking finally caught up to you? Or was it the fact that you lost your so-”

Was that Dream's voice?

“Shut the fuck up.” He snarled and you were shoved behind him into Quackity’s arms, you felt less protected. “I’m not that person anymore and you fucking know that,” Vendetta came to stand beside the both of you a hand was placed on your shoulder protectively. You knew she was desperately wanted to step in and you held up a hand to stop her.

“This isn’t good…” Quackity murmured, “They’re going to fight. Schlatt’s going to get himself fucking killed.”

“Calm yourself. We won’t let it get that far.” Ven grumbled eyeing you waiting for your signal. But you were lost in the conversation or argument, the two were having, you couldn’t believe Schlatt was a pirate. He was so...he just didn’t...he was a drunk okay? That didn’t exactly shout feared pirate to you!

“Oh, are you sure? I remember that look, that’s the look you’d get before you stomped someone’s lights out. No wonder your son disappeared under mysterious circumstances-” Dream was shoved against one of the poles holding up the building. He grunted and Schlatt’s arm was pulled back ready to punch, but his arm was stopped by smaller hands,

“Pardon me Mr. Schlatt but you know how we feel about fighting in our tavern.” Addie bubbled, she had a smile on her face but it wasn’t kind, it was full of warning.

“Get the fuck off me, sheepie. This doesn’t fucking concern you.” Schlatt shoved her away and as soon as his skin made contact with her body he made a sound of distress.

“(Y/n)...” Addie murmured quietly, your father’s dagger was embedded in Schlatt’s arm,

“Fucking hell you bitch!” He snarled baring his teeth, you glared at him twisting the dagger he yelled in agony.

“Touch one of my girls again and next time this dagger is going right into your back.” You ripped the dagger out, splattering the floor with blood. He grabbed his arm tightly and looked at you with slight betrayal in his yellow eyes. “I mean it Schlatt, Quackity take him home.” The man nodded looking at you longingly, he muttered a quiet ‘Sorry’ before escorting him out of your tavern. “You,” You glared harshly over at Dream, “Go to your room.”

“You’re not my mother.”

“Then find another play to stay.” You spat, he turned away and you looked over at Addie, “Are you alright?” Your voice turned tender as you cupped her cheeks. She nuzzled against your palms and nodded her head,

“I’m fine. You didn’t need to-”

“Yes, I did. No one messes with you. With any of you on my watch.”

The sheep hybrid made a little sound as her bottom lip trembled, she wrapped you in a tight hug which you accepted without hesitance. Judas walked over next and wrapped you both in her arms, pretty soon you were surrounded by your girls and Zig.

All of them had the same mindset: comforting both you and Addie.

It was good to be loved.

Wilbur watched the scene curiously and glanced over at Technoblade who stood up from his chair.

“I think that’s our cue to leave for the night.” He looked over at his first mate, Wilbur nodded in agreement grabbing his guitar from the chair beside Technoblade.

“They...Techno were they talking about Tubbo.” Tommy whispered to his brother, his brow furrowing in concern as they all climbed the steps up to their room, “You don’t think-”

“It just might be Tommy.” Technoblade tilted his head to the side, “Guess that’ll be something we ask him when we get back to the ship tomorrow.”

“Well, this trip is going to be way more fun than I thought.” Wilbur snickered lighting a cigarette, taking a long drag, before letting the smoke curl out of his mouth and up into the rafters. ~~~

Tag List: @v01dw4lk3rz, @jam-bombs, @abovenyx, @glitterydigitalart, @phoenixaesthetic19, @luluwinchester, @boiled-onionrings, @pastelmoonwitche, @roxy3457, @alovestruck-fool, @victory-is-here, @mack4676, @fiorenc, @theoneandonlyyeti, @bloodrose0723, @sandyy-woo,

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aquamarinescarlet · 3 years

Text

Don’t give up just yet

Pairing: Wanda Maximoff x Reader

Word count: ~3.6k

Warnings: two curse word (I think), brief mentions of sex and cheating, angst (bare in mind these warnings don’t apply the way you think they do, you’ll have to read to understand)

Summary: The classic soulmate AU, sentences written on each other’s wrists, but with a twist.

Author’s note: This was basically an excuse for me to reinvent the soulmate AU with the wrist tattoos thing. It’s sorta angsty, but I just thought the ending was too funny. Just experimenting here, tell me what you think.

PSA: Dividers are the count down till the day: black is reader focused, red is wanda focused, gold/yellow is also reader focused, but I thought it deserved a little spark.

“You should call her, y’know.”

“Why would I do that? She made her point very clear.”

“It’s her wedding day, Y/N,” Mia reasoned, “and this fight was months ago, you have to get over it.”

You rolled your eyes at her insistence. This discussion has been happening every day for the past two weeks.

“I didn’t do anything wrong, why am I the one who should get over it?” You emphasized.

“He is her soulmate, and she is your sister, the least you could do is pretend.”

“Ugh,” you let out a guttural scream, “I can’t do this anymore Mia, I stand by what I said. That man is an asshole and this soulmate thing is stupid. I don’t trust him, no matter what the words on both their wrists say, and I’m not gonna watch her go down with this and not do anything about it.”

Mia didn’t respond, she knew she’d reached your last nerve. You watched as the woman left your office, sending a last sympathetic glance your way before walking into the hall.

Mia was right in some points, and you knew that. She was right about it being your sister’s wedding day and that you should be there to support her. She was wrong about you needing to be the one to apologize though. The way people manipulated their lives to fit this whole twisted Soulmate Theory made your blood boil.

The Soulmate Theory was quite simple: everyone was born with a sentence written on their wrists, popular belief is that those are the first words your soulmate will say to you. It was cute, and it worked most of the time, not for your sister though. Or at least you thought so.

Oli's soulmate was Isaac. They had met three years ago and eventually started dating. Oli was a firm believer of the Soulmate Theory and had never dated anyone before, so it was all new and exciting.

You started noticing the patterns roughly one year after they started dating. He was controlling her, discreetly, barely noticeable, but it was there.

First with clothes, Oli had made it a habit to always ask for his opinions on her clothing, and he would tell her he hated something, regardless of her telling him over and over again she had liked it. You made little comments here and there about his actions, mostly jokes but with some truth behind, she didn’t notice.

Second was friends, Isaac would always want to meet Oli’s friends, and if she went out with one he didn’t know he would make her feel guilty. You started giving more serious warnings, pointing out what he was doing more clearly, she didn’t care and called you crazy.

Third was her feelings, he had his mind set on what her role should be in his life. He praised Oli endlessly when she cooked or cleaned. Other than that, he didn’t care, didn’t pay attention to her stories, didn’t appreciate her paintings and drawings…

It got to the point where she wouldn’t want to paint anymore, when she was telling a story it would be without her usual excitement. Her smile no longer reached her eyes, she was constantly tired.

You confronted her about it, several times, but it was of no use. You’d point out the facts and she’d retort with ‘he is my soulmate, the universe bound us together, he wouldn’t do this to me!’

Three months ago was the last time you two talked. She told you he asked her hand. She knew you would be against it, she tried to ease you into the idea of her being with Isaac for the rest of her life. You weren’t having any of it.

After hours of screaming, arguing and loads of tears, she told you not to come to the wedding, and you said you wouldn’t.

It’s now four days from the date and you’re not going as long as he’s the one she’s marrying.

You stared at the words on your own wrist. ‘It’s you’. That sentence haunted you for years. What a stupid set of words for your soulmate to say.

As a kid you adored the Soulmate Theory, you paid meticulous attention to the first words you’d exchange with anyone, you made new friends nearly every day in hopes of hearing those words, but they never came.

Until they came. At first it was exhilarating, but the ones you said didn’t match the ones on the person’s wrist. You were extremely disappointed. And then you heard them again, and again, and again… It became almost routine. Every single person you met would say ‘it’s you’ or some variation of it.

You being who you are certainly didn’t help. During college you had started a tech company and now it had grown to be one of the biggest and most important in the field. The new inventions did win you several prizes and a lot of money. You were also stupid famous, being the young brilliant CEO and all.

Ever since, you gave up on looking for your soulmate. It seemed counter productive to get yourself all worked up just for it not to happen every single day. You made your peace with it, although a small part of you just wanted to meet said person.

The situation with Isaac and Oli helped. Seeing that it could end up hurting you made it easier to not fixate on finding your soulmate. Nonetheless, the desire was there; hidden, pushed to the back of your mind, but still there.

You just wished your sister could see it too, that the Soulmate Theory is not the solution to all her problems.

“Relax Steve, it’s all taken care of.”

“What about the flowers? Did you book the buffet? Did you check with the band? And the decorations? I saw some people didn’t RSVP yet, should I redo the seating charts?” Steve rambled on as Wanda just laughed.

“The flower problem is solved, the buffet confirmed, so did the band, the wedding planner is working on the decorations and redoing the whole seating chart seems… unnecessary, they still have three days to confirm their presence.” She reassured the man who was more stressed than her about the whole situation.

“Okay, sorry, I just want to make sure everything is perfect.” He huffed, taking a seat on the couch.

“It’s going to be perfect, don’t worry.” She couldn’t help the weirdness that surged upon uttering those words.

“How are you so calm?” Wanda just shrugged, not really sure how to answer.

Steve took a deep breath and gazed at the red head, offering her a smile.

“I’m going to sleep, all this wedding stuff has been stressing me all day.”

“Okay,” Steve made his way to his bedroom but she called him before he reached the hallway, “thanks for the help Rogers.”

“No worries.” He shot a last smile before disappearing.

Wanda found herself alone in the living room, the silence only making her thoughts scream louder.

She would be married in three days. It seemed unbelievable. After losing her parents, being experimented on at Hydra, fighting along Ultron, losing her brother and becoming an Avenger, she never thought she would have time to fall in love.

Yet, here she is. Although the feeling wasn’t quite what she thought it would be. It wasn’t exciting, or nerve racking. She felt no different than any other day of her life. Steve seemed like the one who was getting married, not her.

Vision is sweet and caring, she feels so happy around him. Then what is causing all these doubts to haunt her?

She knows what it is, she just doesn’t want to admit it.

Those words. Those stupid words painted forever on her wrist. ‘Don’t do this’. Ever since joining the Avengers she started using several bracelets to hide them, but they still burned on her skin every single day.

She’d heard of the Soulmate Theory at a very young age. Her parents had explained how those were the first words she’d hear from the love of her life. She would spend hours daydreaming all sorts of scenarios in which someone would say those words to her and they’d fall in love.

After her parent’s death, that stopped being her priority. At the Hydra base she’d only see her brother and a couple dozen different Hydra soldiers, too old and mean for a soulmate.

Gaining powers was a game changer. She was older then. Stronger. They finally allowed her and Pietro to leave the base and create chaos in Hydra’s name. “Do good” in Hydra’s name. She believed she was doing the right thing. She truly did.

Hearing her first ‘Don’t do this’ made her question everything. It came from a little kid nonetheless. A scared little kid. It must’ve been a mistake, she thought at the time. But that mistake happened, again, and again, and again…

When she joined the Avengers her eyes were opened to all the pain and terror she had caused. All the people she hurt. Then it dawned on her, what if one of those ‘Don’t do this’ came from her soulmate? What if she had hurt them, or worse, killed them?

The idea terrified her. So she hid those words on her wrist. A reminder of the evil she’s done and the love she’ll never have. She promised herself to never look for her soulmate, she already caused them enough pain, they didn’t deserve to get tangled in the mess that was her life.

And then Vision was created. Him and Wanda got along greatly. He made her happy. They fell in love, or at least that’s what Wanda told herself, that she fell in love with him. It was possible, there’s no rule on the Soulmate Theory that says you can only fall in love with your soulmate. Plus, Vision is not human, so he doesn’t have words written on his wrist, he doesn’t have a predestined soulmate, technically he doesn’t even have an actual soul for this sort of thing. They could be each other’s soulmate. A loophole on this stupid theory.

Why didn’t it feel like that though? Why was she questioning it so much? And why now? Three days before her wedding?

She took off the bracelets and stared at the ink, brushing her fingers lightly over it. She loved Vision, she affirmed to herself. She wants to marry him. This is what she wants. And she believes in these words, for a while. Long enough for her to fall asleep, turning off her brain from overthinking the situation too much.

Work has had you occupied all week. With back to back meetings and loads of paperwork to fill out, you’ve barely had time to think of anything else.

But now it seems like everything is done and you have more free time than you’d like.

You left the office early, not having much to do there anymore, and, instead of spending all afternoon home alone, you decided to go out for some coffee.

You were sitting on your usual table in the small coffee shop close to your place. It was calm, quiet and homely, a nice contrast between the places you frequent. The warm cup on your hands did nothing to distract you though.

The book you’d brought was long forgotten on the table as you glanced at your phone every few seconds. It’s two days till the wedding and, even though you tried not to think about it, you hoped your sister would text you saying she broke it off. It was unlikely, but wishing she could get some sense knocked into her wouldn’t kill.

You were so focused on your thoughts that you didn’t notice a woman glancing at you until you caught her trying to call your attention.

“It’s you!” She said, astonished, pointing to the cover of a magazine showing a picture of you.

Recognizing that issue as being a rather old one, you just nodded and offered the woman a friendly smile. She took that as an opportunity to approach you.

“Hi. Sorry,” she sounded excited and also nervous for bothering you, “I just wanted to say what an inspiration you are to women all around, to me especially. I’ve been opening my own business and seeing what you do has been such an encouragement to me. So, thank you!”

You were surprised by how nice she was. You’d expected her to ask you to invest in her business or something, like everyone who approaches you does, but she didn’t and it was a nice change of pace for once.

“What kind of business are you opening?” You asked. Listen to her talk would be a good distraction, plus, you could use the company.

“Oh, no, that’s ok,” she said, “I don’t want to bother you any further.”

“Please,” you urged, “I have the rest of my day off and I could use someone to talk to. Unless you’re busy, then I wouldn’t want to be a burden to you.” You laughed to ease the woman’s nerves.

“Sure?” You nodded and gestured to the empty seat across from you.

She accepted it and you spent at least an hour talking before she had to leave. It was a pleasant conversation, she praised your work but didn’t refrain from giving some interesting criticism on your business. The topic of an investment or a partnership never even came up.

It got your sister out of your mind for a while, although it didn’t last long.

Laying on your bed, your eyes fought to stay open, your mind swirling with all possible scenarios regarding Oli. She would be miserable if she went through with this, and you couldn’t do anything about it.

You love your sister, you care so much about her, but she refuses to listen to your warnings. You could swallow your pride and go to the wedding. You could try and support her. But that would just make an accomplice to her stupidity and you’re not going to just stand there and pretend that that’s ok.

You thought about texting her, way too many times. But your relationship is already rocky as it is, the least you could do is hope she gets some clarity on her own.

One day till the wedding. She’s 24 hours away from the happiest day of her life. Why is it, then, that Wanda doesn’t feel as happy as she should be.

She didn’t have to fake a smile, she was happy, but that smile didn’t quite reach her eyes.

None of the others seemed to notice it. They just thought it was the nervousness of having everything set so the day could run smoothly. Vision even brought up the possibility of her having cold feet about it, but she denied it thoroughly, assuring him she wanted this.

And she does. She wants to get married, have kids and build up a family of her own. She wants it all.

It still seemed weird though. Like something was off.

“Steve just called,” Nat interrupted her thoughts, walking back into the room, “everything is set, prepped and organized for tomorrow.”

“Let’s try on the dress then.” Carol urged the girl to put on the piece of clothing for the millionth time.

It did her justice. Slim at the top and flowy at the bottom, accentuating all her curves perfectly. It wasn’t big and puffy but light and delicate. She smiled at her own reflection as the other women crammed around her to take a look.

“You look beautiful.” Pepper said in awe.

“She does, doesn’t she.” Laura agreed, even though she’s the one that helped her choose it.

Wanda didn’t say anything, just smiling and appreciating her own image, excitement growing on her chest from wearing it in front of everyone the next day.

The girls spent hours planning how they would do her hair and makeup. There were so many ideas, disagreements and arguments that Wanda was completely drained by the end of the day. She was happy though, to see her friends being there for her, eager to help and make sure everything was perfect.

It was nice to have people around since she lost so much throughout the years.

After the women were gone and she found herself alone, Wanda’s thoughts from the beginning of the day came back, hitting her like a train.

Was she really more excited about wearing a dress than about getting married? Was this a sign of her actually getting cold feet?

She shrugged them away, affirming to herself these are just stupid uncertanties people always get before their wedding day. At least that’s what happens in movies, so nothing to worry about... right?

Thankfully your work slump had subsided as now a gigantic pile of papers sat on your table. Some contracts had to be restructured and a set of stores had to be chosen to distribute your newest technology.

You thrived in that scenario, with countless reports and 2D drawings of the prototypes scattered about the room. Your mind was going a thousand miles a minute, seemingly unaware of the events that would take place later that day.

That peace, however, was short lived. Your brain short circuited for a second when you checked what had caused your phone to buzz.

Two voicemails.

From none other than Isaac.

It was right then that it dawned on you: Oli was marrying that asshole today. In only a couple of hours actually.

Before listening to the messages you started to record your phone screen, maybe he would try to threaten you or something and you could use that to convince Oli to break things off with him. It wouldn’t kill to be precautious.

The first one was sweet, although it almost made you gag, it was sent with good intentions. Isaac was asking you to go easy on Oli, regardless of your feelings towards him, you should be supportive of her and her decisions. Too pretentious for your liking, but sent with good intentions nonetheless.

The second one started awfully weird. Some muffled sounds, things you couldn’t quite make out. Until you heard a loud moan, your eyes going wide as you pushed your phone away from your face. Isn’t it technically ‘bad luck’ to see the bride on the wedding day? You didn’t have time to dwell on those thoughts as the voice on the phone started to moan each other’s names. The woman didn’t sound anything like Oli, because it wasn’t Oli. Isaac was cheating on your sister? And on their wedding day!?

Oh you weren’t about to just let that go. You stopped the recording, thanking your intuition, and quickly ringed Oli.

It rang once… twice… three times… and then voicemail. You tried at least four more times until you figured she just didn’t want to talk to you.

“Marie can you come in here please?” You called your secretary.

A few seconds later she popped her head inside your office.

“How can I help?”

“Can I use your phone!?” You sounded more exasperated than you wished.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea to call your sister today?” Damn, that woman knows you too well. You sighed loudly.

“Please… I just…” You trailed off, sounding desperate this time around.

Thankfully Marie gave in and lent you her phone. You typed Oli’s number and rang it, several times, she didn’t pick up once. You were starting to get truly desperate now.

“Do you have the address?” You handed Marie her phone back.

“Here.” She handed you a piece of paper from her pocket.

It was on the other side of the city, at least a one hour drive. You quickly grabbed your coat, purse and phone, rushing out of the office, only being stopped by a hand wrapping around your wrist.

“Don’t do anything stupid.” You gave her a reassuring smile and a quick nod before making your way to your car. Marie has been working with you since the beginning, she always knew when you were up to nothing good. She also knew that when you set your mind to something, there was no stopping you.

The drive was excruciating. You kept making stupid mistakes and taking wrong turns. Everything seemed to work against you, being it: accidents, red lights, slow drivers, pedestrians. Even the birds chirping around were pissing you off.

You finally reached the venue and stopped the car messily in the front entrance. You quickly ran up the stairs, and almost tripped and fell when you heard the officiant was already performing the ceremony.

You reached the doors and yanked them open, hopefully interrupting the wedding before it was too late.

“Don’t do this!” You screamed at the top of your lungs, nearly breathless.

The guests all turned towards you, surprised. So did the couple on the podium.

Except those people weren’t Oli and Isaac. You recognized them, Vision and Scarlet Witch, or at least that’s the names they went for on television. You’ve seen them before, doing business with Stark had its perks, but had never been introduced.

You could’ve felt bad, but your stomach was a turmoil of faith and nausea. You were either really early or really late to stop Oli.

“Sorry,” you said, trying to catch your breath, “wrong wedding, carry on.” You turned around to leave, but not before noticing the bride glancing at her own wrist.

You didn’t get the chance to take a single step out the door before her voice filled the silence that had settled.

“It’s you.” You stopped dead on your tracks. Your wrist burning slightly, not the kind of pain to cause discomfort, just enough to be noticeable.

Those words.

Her looking at her wrist.

Your’s burning now.

You turned back around, earning all kinds of confused glances from the guests. Your eyes fell on the woman, a smirk plastered on your lips.

“Seems like this isn’t the wrong wedding after all.”

#wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda x reader #mcu #marvel #reader insert #wanda maximoff imagine #soulmate au

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alreadyblondenow · 3 years

Text

Hold it all together

“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?”

Pairing: Johnny x female!reader, childhood best friends to lovers

Genre: SMUT, FLUFF

WC: 1,970k

Warnings: mentions of exchanging nudes, a lot kissing, unorotected sex, mentions of condoms, its just soft sex guys hahha mentiins of dreamies being the reader’s brothers.

A/N: NOT PROOFREAD. I’ll fix it once I have time. To the

Happy, excited, and sleepless. Today is the first day of Johnny’s spring break and he has been waiting for this day, the moment freshman year started... because this is the only time he can go home and finally see you again.

Johnny has been your childhood best friend and you two are basically inseparable. Well, except when he needed to leave for college. Of course you’re devastated the whole summer just before Johnny leaves. And it was that season, you both admitted your feelings for each other. Feelings that has been bottled up for too long finally and suddenly bursted out during a friendly kiss that turned into a passionate one which led to a slow and intimate sex the night before he left.

It has been almost half a year when that fateful night happened, but everything feels so fresh for him still. After what happened between you and Johnny, your relationship with each other did not progressed to something even more serious. Although you exchange nudes from time to time, FaceTime until the morning and say ‘i miss you’ to each other together with other sweet words.

And that is why Johnny is driving his way home to you with a bouquet of flowers on the front seat of his car, fighting through his sleepiness and keeping himself awake until he reaches your house to surprise you.

When he finally arrived first thing in the morning, he met your mom first and told you that he’s here to surprise you. “She’s still sleeping, but you can wake her up if you want to. She misses you so bad,” your mom said to Johnny. He then made this way to your room with the flowers in his hand and entered quietly, careful not to disturb your sleep. He placed the flowers on your bedside table near a photo he took for you and smiled in awe because you always cherish everything he gave you.

Feeling so sleepy and tired from the long drive, he removed his shoes and joined you under the covers. Slinging his arm around your waist and finally waking you up with soft kiss on your cheek. “I’m home,” he whispered softly. You rolled to face him, surprised but you’re both so sleepy to show it so you returned his hug and hugged him tightly. The moment you laid eyes on him, his eyes were already closed, comfortable and more than happy that he can feel your presence.

And as you both sleep together in your small bed, well, small because Johnny is a big person, you bask in his warmth and meet him in your dreams. Not wasting any second without each other.

“You must be really tired” you said when he finally woke up, raking his soft hair away from his face.

He nodded and smiled at you. Finally. He thought. “What time is it?”

“Almost afternoon. But no one cares,” you said and came closer to him, finally kissing those lips you missed so much. He rolled on top of you, putting his whole weight on you while kissing you breathlessly on the lips, neck and chest. His hands were perfectly placed on your waist, his thumb is drawing small circles on your skin and as if he’s asking permission to lift your shirt and see you without your clothes on.

He pulled away to remove his thick hoodie and plain white shirt, leaving him only with his denim pants. You noticed his body changed a lot, sure the nude photos he sends were great and it makes you miss him more, but seeing Johnny again in between your legs without a shirt on and looking hot as fuck just makes you crave for him. “This is so much better than the photos you send me,”

He let out a satisfied smile and started to unbutton his denim pants and remove it in front of you. You on the other hand, removed your pajama and welcomed him in your arms again. Kissing him deeper than ever and making him touch your boobs and squeeze them, which makes you automatically part your lips and want for more.

“Have you been fucking different girls from different sororities?” You joked in between kissing him and palming his clothed cock.

“Wouldn’t even dare. How can I even think of fucking other girls, knowing that this pussy is waiting for me?” he knew you were only joking and put his thumb on your clothed pussy. Teasing you with the right amount of pressure, careful not to make you cum so early.

“How about you? Have you been seeing other guys?” you smiled and removed your shirt, throwing it somewhere and finally exposing yourself to him. He then kissed every inch of you, hands freely roam around your body, and even tickling you from time to time.

“How can I even try seeing other guys, when I already have who I want?”

You didn’t see but Johnny smiled because of your answer while he’s placing butterfly kisses all the way down your body. Kissing you lovingly and showing you how much he misses you.

After the innocent kisses, you feel him reach for your panties and hook his fingers on the garter, slowly pulling it down while he kisses your inner thighs. Preparing you to what comes next and spreading your legs a little too harsh than expected that you yelped and your body was dragged on the mattress.

“Oops. Sorry, got carried away,” he sweetly apologized to you, kissing you on the cheek before he proceeds again.

That sudden harsh movement was the real Johnny in bed. You’ve only had sex with him once, now is only the second time. But word is, Johnny fucks hard in bed. Everyone knows that because he slept with a handful of girls during high school and you’re just this supportive friend that listens to him talk about a great night or a great fuck the other night.

“Hey,” Johnny snapped his fingers and went on top of you again, intertwining his fingers with yours and kissing your knuckles before he makes you embrace him. “What’s the matter?”

“N-nothing. I’m just swimming in my thoughts. Uhm, what did you said again?”

“I asked if you want to use a condom”

“Uh. I don’t have one... do you-“

“Nope,” he said with a smirk. You suddenly remember that he loves fucking raw but what you don’t know is, you’re the first person he ever fucked raw. “Just tell me if it hurts. Again. Okay?”

He said, and you nod. Lining his cock on your entrance while he kisses your neck and kissing your boobs as he pushes in slowly. Tighter and tighter, your grip on his shoulders becomes. The familiar stretch of Johnny’s cock just makes your eyes shut and take him whole. Savouring every thrust he gives you, feeling every inch of cock inside you. It’s so big, you tell to yourself.

“Sorry, it’s bigger now because I’m so horny and I haven’t had sex since our last” he explained with ragged breaths near your ear.

“It’s okay,” is all you can manage to say.

He fucked you slow and deep or fast and sloppy. Either way it felt good and it surprised you how long you lasted this time.

Then suddenly he pulled away, spreading your legs wider as he changes his position. Having a better view of your bouncing boobs and fucked expression that never fails to turn him on. “Fuck Y/n,” he whined and reached for your boobs as he moves slower. Matching your moans and groans because he’s so close too. He then closes the space between you two and kissed you on the lips again like you’re about to disappear any second. Holding on to your body so tight that you’re sure it’s going to leave marks. Then suddenly your eyes rolled back and you’re breathing heavily and moaning a little too loud but no one will hear. Your orgasm completely washed you away and its all thanks to Johnny.

You smiled at him and reached for kisses to calm both of you down. “Was it a good one?” He was talking about the orgasm.

“The. Best.” You said in between kissing. “Did you come inside me?” He shook his head no. “Good. I’m not on the pill,”

“Kind of made a mess tho,” he looked to the direction of where he shoot his cum and it was on your lower abdomen and bed sheets. It was thick. His cum was so thick and many, that he was already embarrassed.

“Is it obvious that i missed you?” He asked. Kissing you on your forehead sincerely before he proceeds to clean his mess up.

“I think I need to shower,” you said.

“Okay, I’ll cover for you,”

While you were busy cleaning yourself, Johnny made himself decent again and decided to go downstairs to greet Mark and Jeno, your brothers. And eventually have breakfast with them.

“Hey uhm what do you think about me being your sister’s boyfriend?” He casually asked them and stuffed sausage in his mouth.

“Heck yeah that’s what I’m talking about man! Yo, just dont hurt her” Mark exclaimed in excitement thens suddenly turned serious.

“I won’t,” Johnny answered.

“And don’t make her miss you too much because you know we cant trust long distance relationship these days,” Jeno added.

Johnny agrees and said, “I will visit her every month”

“Don’t get her pregnant. I mean yet- get her pregnant when it’s the righ time- you get what i mean” Mark awkwardly added.

“O...kay. I’ll use condoms from now on. Anything else?”

“Dude just make her happy like you always do,”

“I will” Johnny said with a proud smile.

“Aren’t you boys should be cleaning the pool?” And the two boys immediately scrammed and quickly did their chores. Leaving you and Johnny in the kitchen with the food. Pinching Johnny’s cheek because now that you can see him clearly, you see a lot of changes.

“Only you can do that to me” he said then caught your hand and intertwined it with yours, he has become bold you notice. He pulled you closer to him while he finishes his juice, but the atmosphere is hetting a little stuffy and awkward so you tried having a conversation.

“Do you want to shower? I still have some of your clothes” you offered.

“Mhmm. Keep those, I have stuff in my car”

You nod and suddenly it was silent.

“Hey y/n, I was thinking of making it official between us. I mean if you want to. I just think that we’ve been flirting with each other for some time now and wed make a pretty good team,”

“ I thought you’d never ask. Took you longer than expected tho,” you put another sausage in his mouth ”The greatest thing you’ll ever learn is to love, and be loved in return.”

“Im just scared to fuck it up,” he sighed in relief “thank you for loving me back. I promise to take care of you 5000 more times than before”

“I’ll do the same... and wow you just asked me to be your girlfriend in the middle of our kitchen. How romantic.” He smiled handsomely then suddenly remembered one last thing.

“Oh by the way we uhm we need to start using condoms. I promised mark,”

“What-“

“I know right. Fucking you raw is good but your brother said to not get you pregnant”

“Ugh mark...” you moved your chair and hugged him tightly feeling him kiss the top of your head and cheek nonstop while you continue to eat.

The day may have started filthily, but it ended with a decently soft kiss on your temple from your best friend now boyfriend.

#nct-writers #neosmutcollective #cznnet #neowritingsnet #kpopscape #nct smut #johnny smut #nct Johnny #nct Johnny smut #nct 127 #johnny suh x reader #johnny x reader #nct johnny x reader #nct #johnny fluff

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aminiatureworld · 3 years

Text

Return to Me

Characters: Albedo, Scaramouche, Xiao, gn!reader

Word Count: 4,538

Warnings: Violence, Minor villain death

Premise: What is it like when the one you most adore becomes a stranger? And how’re you supposed to pick up the pieces?

In which the reader loses their memory.

Author’s Note: Just a note that this is not how actual amnesia works, and if you’re experiencing memory loss please contact your doctor.

That being said the amnesia is really good for angst and pining so how could I resist? It’s one of those guilty pleasure tropes I like to read and think of so I hope I did it justice.

Albedo

Albedo loved two things in this world, alchemy and you. They were what kept him centered, what kept him sharp and curious and full of life. So how could it be that one of those things should cause him such great unhappiness, and that said unhappiness should be the other’s suffering?

It had been a dangerous experiment, from the beginning Albedo was well aware of that. Testing whether or not elemental energy contained traces of elements via water could yield incredibly useful results about magic’s interaction with the ordinary world. But it could also backfire massively. Noxious gases, explosions, anything was possible.

But he’d thought he was prepared. After all you two had hiked all the way to the edges of Windrise specifically so no one would be around, and Albedo had even put up a barrier with the express intention of keeping anyone from getting hurt. It should’ve been fine, everything should’ve been fine, and yet when the Electro Slime condensate hit the water and the explosion knocked you both off your feet, slamming into the ground three meters from where you’d originated, he could only wonder how things had gone so wrong.

Picking himself up after a few agonizing seconds, every bone and muscle in his body stiff and aching from the sudden impact, Albedo crawled over to where you lay. To his horror you appeared to have hit a rock, and your head was bleeding slightly. Cupping your face in his hands the alchemist rasped out your name. The relief he felt when you opened your eyes was only momentary, replaced by shock and a sense of utter emptiness when you made out a groggy: “Who are you?”

Electro slime elements appear to contain no small amount of Chlorine, which, combined with only the hydrogen as a result of the electricity splitting the water molecules apart, caused an explosion. Although normally Albedo might’ve been thrilled by the discovery of an element only found mixed in the natural world, now he could only look upon that experiment with a raw sort of hatred that he hadn’t known he’d possessed. The ice around the alchemist’s heart had been burned away, and now all that remained was a burnt and shriveled up little thing, determined to make up for the lack of emotions by throwing its owner into the pits of despair.

Albedo spent all his time at first in the hospital and then in the apartment you two shared. You’d made an offhanded remark about how empty it looked, and Albedo had smiled awkwardly, not having the heart to tell you he could barely look at a piece of science equipment without a deep sense of loss. The doctors had said the effects should fade with time, but Albedo knew that there had been magic in the air, and a sick, twisted part of himself jeered that he was holding onto false hope.

It didn’t help that Albedo had been absolutely unprepared for the reality in which you couldn’t remember a thing about him, or your relationship. Never again would you rush up to him as you had before, excitement in your eyes and questions in your head. Memories of gathering crystal flies in the sunset and staying up all night, notes on old ruins swapped with sweet kisses and phrases that meant nothing at all, the beach where Albedo had sketched you for the first time and you had given him your first gift, all that was nothing to you, the stories of a stranger told by another.

“The first gift you gave me was a flower preserved in a solution of Cryo.” You said, words awkward and unsure in your mouth. Albedo knew that you weren’t really remembering it.

“That’s right,” he replied, voice light and calm, trying desperately to keep the despair from showing on his face. “It was a Cecilia. You said that it looked as if it was made of snow.”

“It sounds beautiful,” you replied, speaking more to yourself than to him, “I wish I could remember it.”

“You will someday, I’m sure of it.” He smiled, but the movement felt like too much effort to keep up and soon his face collapsed once more into an expression of melancholy. As if noticing this you smiled slightly in turn.

“Does it still exist?”

“Yes,” Albedo gazed out the window that faced you two. Beyond the buildings, only a few streets away lay his laboratory, locked away and gathering dust, “it does, but I cannot get it right now.”

“Oh,” you seemed at a loss for words, glancing down towards your hands, “that’s alright. I’d rather remember it on my own anyways.”

Albedo said nothing to this. Moving to place his hand on yours he paused. He was a stranger to you. This little act of comfort, all the little gestures he’d gotten so used to were now impossible. Dropping his hand to his side he moved to get you a glass of water, desperately trying to ignore the pain burning in his chest and in his heart.

_____

“Are these yours?”

Albedo placed the bag of groceries he’d just gotten on the floor. Moving over to where you were sitting, you were taking a break from adventuring until you remembered more, a decision made by the doctors for fear you’d forgotten how to control your vision. You had recently moved on from mostly sleeping to exploring your once familiar home, and now you sat curled on the couch; in your lap was a familiar book. Leaning over Albedo glanced at the page you were on.

“Yes, they’re mine. I like to sketch in my free time.”

“It’s beautiful,” you murmured, running your hand reverently over the slightly stained page, “I can see the different shades in the mountain, even if it’s only a pencil drawing.”

“I’m glad you think so,” Albedo smiled to himself, the memory of that day offering him some solace, “it was quite a difficult thing to draw.”

“It had an odd name.” You scrunched your nose slightly in concentration, an expression so cute Albedo could help but let out a huff of bittersweet laughter.

“Dragonspine. That’s the name of the mountain.” Turning to put the groceries away he paused when you spoke once more.

“No. That wasn’t it. It was something else. V-Vida something.” Albedo watched, incoherent thoughts and emotions clouding his mind as you retraced the circles you’d been making on the page beforehand. Suddenly your fingers stopped and you looked up. “Vindagnyr, yes that’s it! There’s a fortress up there, a, what did you tell me they were called, a domain. And that’s the name of it.” You closed your eyes once more. “Something happened there, something to do with you. I can’t remember it, if I was there or if you told me about it before, but something’s there. Something important.”

Albedo felt as if he must’ve been dreaming. The same sort of emptiness that had filled him at the beginning of this catastrophe was there, but this time there was something else, the bitter feeling of a hope that he couldn’t be sure of filling his lungs and his mouth. He turned back towards you, teetering forward as he tried to grasp the situation.

“Yes. That’s right. Vindagnyr. The name it had before it was essentially destroyed by Durin. I met the Traveler there, a week before I met you.” He sat down on the chair adjacent to where you were sitting, memories filling his mind. “It was also the first place we performed an experiment together.”

“I’d like to go there again then.” Your face was one of open triumph and excitement, and there was something in your eyes that Albedo thought he might never see again, a sort of recognition that he thought had been lost, “I know you haven’t been to your work once. I suppose it would make sense, considering what happened, but would you take me there?”

“Of course.” Albedo’s voice was sure and solid.

“Even though I might not remember more.”

“Even then.”

You reached your hand out to the alchemist, and after a second Albedo took it. He ran his thumb over the back of your hand slightly, and you made no move to withdraw, instead squeezing his palm slightly.

You had remembered something. It wasn’t everything of course, and there was no guarantee that there wouldn’t be heartbreak up ahead, wouldn’t be frustration and sorrow and moments when hope seemed very far away. But as long as moments like this existed, Albedo could hang on. The anger and despair that had burned inside him remained, but now something stronger resided there.

And that was hope.

Scaramouche

“Do you see them?” You whispered, raising your head slightly above the rock you were hiding under. Scowling Scaramouche made a cutting gesture with his hand.

“Yes I see them. And get back down!”

Although his tone of voice was harsher than usual you smiled a smile of understanding as you lowered yourself once more out of sight. Scarmouche took a deep breath in response, trying to control the coiling tension that sat in his stomach. Today’s mission was an unenviable one, made only worse by your presence, for Scaramouche knew these were no ordinary enemies, and though you could take care of yourself just fine there was a nagging in his head that refused to be silenced.

Your targets sat encamped up ahead, completely nondescript in appearance, although that was hardly surprising of deserters of the Fatui, especially ones of such high caliber as them.

Scaramouche’s expression twisted into a scowl of concentration once more as he thought about the moment when you two had received your orders to get rid of those who knew of the dealings of the army of the Tsaritsa, and who were certainly willing to dispose of said secrets for the right price. Although they were no doubt traitors of the worst sort and worth less than dirt, there was still something unpleasant about fighting people who had once been comrades. You’d mused it was because of the bonds of mutual struggle and culture, but Scaramouche suspected for himself it was more the annoyance of fighting people who were at least somewhat trained.

Scaramouche gave the signal and you crept once more out from behind your hiding spot. Manifesting your polearm Scaramouche could already see the well worn metal steaming. This battle was going to be bloody.

At first everything had gone well enough, being hidden on a ledge about the camp you’d managed to do a great deal of damage, made easier by their surprise and ill planned position. However things quickly began to turn sour. The ex-Fatui might not’ve had the equipment of their army days, but they retained the ruthlessness that had once made them so efficient and now made them so dangerous.

There was an odd smell running through the valley, the smell of electricity and something burning. Scaramouche stood in front of a man who had certainly once been a vanguard and a woman who appeared to have been a Cryo mage. Sweat coated their faces but Scarmouche felt cold with the thrill of battle. Electricity crackled to life in his hands and already bits of electricity were dancing on the charred and dinky armor of his enemies. What were they thinking sending a Harbinger against a pathetic group such as this? It was laughable, really.

“Such a pity that members of such an elite force are going to die like dogs.” He drawled. The woman in front of him gritted her teeth, summoning a trail of icicles which Scaramouche easily leapt over. “Is that truly your worth?” He laughed, before the calm that always came with killing washed over him. “Your best is hardly worth my worst.” Gathering electricity, Scaramouche prepared for the final, searing strike.

The man in front of him smiled a sickening sort of smile, the kind that one made only when they knew that it was the end, and then it all went wrong.

The sound of your voice was muffled by the energy approaching Scaramouche from behind, as the outline of a transparent sort of figure clipped his vision. Quickly whirling around Scaramouche was unprepared for the third ex-Fatui member, an agent who had apparently learned his skills well, bearing down on him. Raising his hands, the Harbinger was suddenly thrown aside by an unknown force. Fire made contact with lightning and the ground exploded.

Fighting to retain consciousness Scaramouche was aware of the sickly smell of burning flesh. Blinking away the confusion he glanced at the carnage around him. The agent lay haphazardly, face half obscured by a mass of flesh that must’ve once made him up but now seemed out of place. Behind him the other agents had hardly feared better, and the charred visage of mangled flesh replace what had once been arms, legs, necks. It was an unsettling view, and though Scaramouche couldn’t say it was the worst thing he’d ever seen it still left a vile taste in his mouth. How quickly a fragile little human could come undone, made into that which was unrecognizable.

Finally he fixed his gaze towards you, relieved to find that there was no apparent wounds, although that perspective shifted slightly when viewing your hands, which were covered with welts. Your fire must’ve mixed with his electricity, causing an overload of energy, and you two lying in the eye of the storm. Scaramouche looked at his own hands, and realized they were similarly reddened. Ignoring the pain he shook your shoulder. “Get up.” He let out when you finally opened your eyes.

However it was apparent very quickly that something was wrong. You eyes held no recognition in them, instead they seemed as blank and transparent as a mirror. Looking at him you furrowed your brow slightly.

“Where…” your gaze drifted towards the scraps of humanity around you and then there was nothing but screaming and a wetness on Scaramouche’s cheeks that felt suspiciously like tears.

“You need to get back to work.” Signora’s voice betrayed no sense of pity. Scaramouche was glad for it, he wouldn’t’ve been able to forgive her if there had been.

“I doubt those imbeciles need me for something as simple as the daily regime. If they do it’s their fault, not mine. I owe them nothing.”

“You owe them your work, it’s your duty as a Harbinger,” Signora’s eyes narrowed, “or have you forgotten that in your folly.”

“I’ve forgotten nothing!” Scaramouche snapped, eyes boring into those across from him. “I am well aware of what my obligations are and what they aren’t. As I said there is nothing of importance fir me right now, and I don’t wish to waste away my time with trivial matters.”

“What would our dear Tsarina think of such words,” Signora let out a dramatic sigh. Raising the glass she was drinking from to your lips she paused, “you best be careful. I cannot shelter you from your folly forever. Either you learn how to deal with this… unfortunate incident and your work, or I shall have that person thrown out into the snow.”

“You wouldn’t dare.” Scaramouche’s tone was like acid and he felt for the moment as if letting go of himself wasn’t such a crime, for now there was no one to chastise him about it anymore.

“I’m warning you. Don’t forget what happens to those who cannot fulfill their duty to the Tsarina,” Signora paused, a cruel smile gracing her face, “or have you forgotten who caused this in the first place.”

It was all Scaramouche could do not to set the tent ablaze.

“Get. Out.” He commanded. Signora sighed, shaking her head and downing her drink in one go before walking out and leaving Scaramouche with the feeling of falling apart.

_______

“Do you sing?”

Scaramouche lifted his head at the sound of your voice, surprised by the question. You hadn’t said much since the aftermath of the incident, and Scaramouche hadn’t forced you to. After all it was one of the things he’d first appreciated in regards to you, you’d never forced him to talk when he didn’t want to. Now he felt the need to afford you the same courtesy, knowing that intelligence still lay behind those eyes even if recognition had disappeared. Now he put down the document he was reading, smiling wryly and shaking his head.

“No. Why would you think that?”

“Because that’s what you’re called isn’t it? Your name, one of your names. The… the Balladeer?” You said it as if it was a question, and perhaps it was. Scaramouche couldn’t think however, couldn’t think over the rushing in his ears.

“Where did you hear that?”

“I don’t know. I just heard it. Or I remembered it. But that’s who you are, isn’t it?” You smiled, and for a moment Scaramouche could almost imagine life was as it was before. “Can you sing for me?”

“No.” This conversation had happened before.

“Fine,” you shook your head, “but one day I want you to sing for me, when I remember everything, then I want you to sing for me.”

“Fine.” Scaramouche managed to get out, afraid of the rising emotions he felt, afraid they might break through his voice.

“You’re missing work, aren’t you.” You continued on, gaze piercing through him. “I can tell, I can hear people whispering about it when I go out. I’m not supposed to be here, and you’re supposed to be working. If what you told me really is what happened, you should work.”

“Ridiculous,” Scaramouche scoffed, “I can manage my own affairs. Besides,” his voice grew softer, as if he didn’t want to reveal himself to you. You were too familiar, but still a stranger, and a part of him hid behind the walls he built up around everyone else, the walls only you could climb over. “Besides, who would look after you.”

“I can look after myself.” Your answer was as confident as it had always been. “I have to, since I trust what you’ve told me about myself, about this work, this world.”

“It was you not looking after yourself that lost you your memory!” He was shouting by now, he was shouting but he couldn’t stop because if he stopped shouting he’d be crying.

“Perhaps. But it’s not looking after me to end up like the people we fought. So go to your work. And maybe one day when you come back, I’ll remember.”

He couldn’t say no to you, eventually you won. It had been that way since the beginning, you tearing down his bluffing and his empty promises. Perhaps it was what he appreciated most about you.

Every moment Scaramouche was away from you felt like he was betraying a part of himself, a part he had hid for so long. But you were right, just like before, and just like before you’d won him over with your honesty, your refusal to back down, and your view of the Harbinger for what he truly was, someone who was deep down truly afraid. That part of you remained, somehow without memory and without certainty it remained.

And if that part of you remained, well maybe some day the rest would return.

Xiao

“Xiao look!” You let out a cry of delight as you threw yourself off the tall stone mountain, glider unfurling in a vibrant waves of color as you began circling in the air. Xiao scowled from the tree in which he was perched, unwilling to humor you in your folly.

“You’re going to be injured.” Although he hadn’t meant for you to hear that you still laughed at the comment, shaking your head as you once more carved shapes into the sky.

“It’s a lovely day for gliding! The air is so fresh and the breeze is just enough to keep you upright!”

“It’s too windy.” Xiao’s voice was flat. This was foolish, what you were doing was foolish. He could feel the currents, feel their laughter, their excitement. They were surely up to no good.

But you weren’t paying attention to that, instead you were gliding about as if you were born to fly. It was a beautiful sight, Xiao had to admit. The beauty of those immersed in what they loved. And what Xiao loved was you.

“Come on Xiao!” You called out. “Come fly with me!”

“No.”

“Oh c’mon, I know you can do it!” Screwing your face into a pout when the adeptus once more shook his head you shrugged. “Your loss.”

Xiao knew you were disappointed, but he couldn’t help it. It seemed somehow out of place for him to join you in whatever you were doing. Besides, he needed to keep track of the currents, just in case.

You dove down for a moment, and Xiao felt his stomach clench, knowing full well what you were doing, but unable to keep the worry out of his mind. And yet then you were flying up, up, up, up and though Xiao wanted to scold you, wanted to tell you to come down once more, he was rapt, in awe. You were too beautiful, and it stole his breath away.

A gust of wind came blowing through the stone monoliths and as your wings buckled and you plummeted towards the ground Xiao found that he was truly unable to breathe at all.

Perhaps it was a blessing that you were unconscious. Then you didn’t have to feel the way Xiao held onto your shoulders as if he’d never let you go, the way he gasped for the air he was supposed to be in charge of, the way his eyes were devoid of everything but fear. You hadn’t fallen so far, he told himself, you hadn’t fallen so far it was fatal. You were breathing, you were going to be fine. But he found himself unable to believe those words. If you had said them he would’ve, but there you were, a crumpled mess and he barely able to process the world around him.

Crashing onto the Inn balcony, not caring about the odd looks thrown his way, Xiao made his way upstairs. You were going to be fine. You were.

If only he could believe himself.

“They’re out of danger now.” Verr Goldet’s voice was calm, unnaturally so, and Xiao only softened a little at the knowledge, sure something had gone wrong. “But…” the innkeeper continued, confirming all of the fears Xiao had been secretly nursing.

“But.”

“But there seems to be a problem with their memory. They were very confused at first, unable to remember things such as Liyue, their duty as adventurer, this place, things like that. At first we thought it would clear, but now it seems that isn’t so. Their memory might be affected for quite a while.”

“I want to see them.” Xiao brushed past Goldet, determined to help you if this was to be your fate. But Goldet’s next words stopped him in his tracks.

“Xiao, they can’t remember you.”

At first there was the feeling of falling. And then, as Xiao vanished, there was nothing.

______

At first Xiao was determined to stay away completely. It hurt too much, hurt to think about what had happened. At first he’d managed to survive on anger, anger at the world, at you not listening to him, at himself for letting it happen. But quickly the anger faded and what replaced it was a loneliness so vast he couldn’t believe that he had managed to survive in such a way before he met you.

Still he didn’t want to go, didn’t want to see you as you were now, unaware of him and perhaps destined to remain so. How cruel fate was. It took everything he knew from him and just when he began to live again it took that to. It took away your memory, your livelihood, and for what? To punish him? It seemed unfair, so unfair.

So he’d stayed away, afraid that something would happened again to you if he were to show himself again. But the knowledge of such emotions as love is something that doesn’t fade, and Xiao found himself unable to continue on as before, finding the pain too great. He had to see you. At least to say goodbye, he had to see you. It would be unfair not to do so.

The moon was full, casting a silvery light on the landscape. Xiao drifted over towards the roof of the Inn, thankful that he was invisible, so as to not have to experience the moment your eyes reached him but you didn’t.

Your silhouette appeared quickly enough in the darkness. You seemed somewhat preoccupied, and yet there was a purpose to your step, made all the more evident by the Qingxin grasped firmly in your hand, a brethren of the other flowers which lay scattered on the railing.

“I know you’re there.” At first Xiao jumped, thinking perhaps you’d somehow managed to sense him. However he calmed down once you continued, it appeared you weren’t truly talking to him.

“I know you’re there. And I wish you’d come back,” You continued, gazing out on the landscape around you. “I don’t remember your name you see. They told me your name of course, but I wish they hadn’t, I wanted to remember it myself. It must be why you left, of course you didn’t want to see me like this. If what they said was true…” you shook your head, “I know it was true. I know that it had to have been true, that I cared for you, that you cared for me. I know because I miss you.” Xiao felt his heart pound in his chest, so loud he could barely hear you.

“I miss you so much. Isn’t that odd? I don’t know you anymore and yet I miss you. It’s as if something is missing. I mean, of course something is missing but it’s more than just the memories themselves. It’s the feeling. Like going outside without a coat on. I miss you, even if I can’t miss you because I can’t remember you I do, I miss you dearly.”

You paused, placing the flower on the railing next to the rest.

“I hope you see the flowers before they fade,” you called out softly to the dark, “and I hope one day I can look at you again. I remember you had such lovely eyes. I’d like to see them again to be sure.”

For a moment Xiao didn’t move, frozen by all he’d heard. But the minute you turned to leave he was already there, bound by the feelings he had for you, by the knowledge that continuing as he had been would kill him, would only hurt you.

“Do you remember me?” It was a silly question to ask, but he had nothing else to say. You turned towards him and smiled softly. It was true, your eyes didn’t recognize him. But there was something in your gaze nonetheless.

“Xiao.” You whispered, and the yaksha knew that he’d never be able to leave again.

#Don’t ask me why Albedo is mixing hydrogen with something that contains a halogen he and I are both just stupid like that #genshin impact #genshin impact fanfiction #requested #albedo #scaramouche #xiao #albedo x reader #scaramouche x reader #xiao x reader #scenarios #mine

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daisies-and-buttercups · 3 years

Text

“Love and War / Chapter II″ - Luca Changretta x reader

Summary: Waking up to an empty bed and the words that Luca left for you, you soon realise that everything is going to go down today, and you’ll soon have to pick a side.

A/N: I swear that this post took me at least three tries, tumblr kept deleting and/or messing up the formatting so I’m really hoping that this is worth it lol 💕

Words: 2.7k

Chapter I Chapter III

⋆﹥━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━﹤⋆

The next morning you shifted in bed, stretching your arms in search of your lover’s body, but all you felt was the crumpling sheets, still warm from where his body was not too long ago. You groaned, sitting up and scanning the room, eyebrows scrunched into a tired look. If you had to guess what had happened the night before just by looking at your room you wouldn’t have had any clues. Your clothes were neatly folded by the chair and there was no other evidence that anything had indeed happened. No clothes abandoned on the floor, no man lying next to you.

You walked down the stairs almost second guessing yourself, thinking over the night's events while you prepared a cup of coffee that you so desperately craved. Taking a big sip your eyes landed on the small table by the door, only usually adorned by a small plate for your keys and some letters that you hadn’t gotten around to opening yet, now decorated by a beautiful bouquet. You never had flowers around, the item useless and expensive, not something that you could afford with your paycheque, but just with their presence they lit the room up, their delicate perfume filling your lungs. You smiled and walked up to them, lifting the small card up to read it. A simple phrase full of adoration and love, with a few words in Italian, made you blush at the love you felt, but the final sentence made your heart drop.

If today is kind with my soul, I shall meet you in your dreams tonight, mio amore.

His handwriting was smooth and elegant with each word, but the last sentence was slightly messy, revealing his feelings maybe more than he was used to. His fear. He didn’t think he’d make it back.

So today was the day.

You scurried over to the phone, picking it up and calling the Shelbys, hoping that someone, anyone, would answer, but no one did. There was no point in leaving the house, you wouldn’t know where to find them and you had no way of knowing where Luca was either. There were many places where this showdown could happen, and even if you found it, what were you going to do? You couldn’t just waltz in hoping not to get shot. Still, the mix of emotions in your chest made you dizzy. Why didn’t he say anything? You dreaded the images that flashed before your eyes, first that of Tommy’s lifeless body, still clutching his gun, then that of Luca, tumbling as a bullet hit him square in the chest. Tears fell as you pictured those scenarios, but knew that that was all they were. They weren’t real. But even knowing that, you couldn’t stop pacing around the room, counting the minutes and going over the events of the past few weeks. You didn’t know how to feel about this whole ordeal. You never forgot how Tommy and his family welcomed you when you had been left with nothing, giving you a job, food, inviting you over for drinks and celebrations, but as much as you dreamed of it, you��d never be part of them. You fit in, but not fully. You weren’t part of their circle, but you were part of their “clean” life. Tommy made sure to to leave you out of the dirty deeds, even if you gathered what happened behind closed doors, and by doing so he shut you out of the only part of their life that would make you fully fit in with them. Then Luca arrived, and the calls, on the phone that Thomas brought just for you, since you couldn’t afford one in any other way, started becoming less frequent, with less news. No more talking about the business, no more working by their side, no more gossiping with Ada or Polly on Saturday evenings. You still got your salary, somehow left by your door with nothing else attached to it, not even a note, but that didn’t change the stark difference in your routine. You barely felt like family, or whatever you had ended up being, anymore. You felt even more left out now. So when Luca came around and actually listened to you, and talked to you, and shared his interests while asking about yours, you felt appreciated, loved. You had found somewhere where you fitted. And now here you stood, weary of whose death you’d have to cry at the end of the day.

It took hours for the phone to ring with news, which made you jump into alertness, rushing over to answer. “Where is he?” You stayed quiet for a moment, fully expecting to hear Polly’s or Ada’s voice, not Tommy’s. He was alive, and clearly Polly had told him about your meeting with the Italian. “Where is-” “Where is he?” he raised his voice in unison to the loud sound you heard not far from him, probably his fist banging against the table. So they still were both alive. You let a breath out that you were unaware you had been holding, gripping your clothes tightly, adrenaline running in your veins from the news. He didn’t usually raise his voice, so his anger was evident, yet you weren’t sure if it was directed at you or at Luca. He clearly had gotten away, and the thought of that was enough to lift that weight off your chest. “I don’t know, Thomas.” “You knew last night, though, didn’t you? When he was in your bed? Bet it felt good, eh, fucking the enemy?” You didn’t answer, your face blushing in shame and anger. He had no right to spy into your personal life. You knew that in his books you were on the wrong side of the war they were fighting, but his words were harsh, cutting through you without any of the warmth they once held. “Don’t defend a fucking wop. Tell me.” “I don’t know where he is. But this has to end, Thomas, this war you’re-” “Why don’t you tell that to your friend?” He pronounced the last word with sarcasm and hatred, but what hurt him was the betrayal he felt when you made it clear that you cared about him. “I already did. I told him I support neither of your ways. Just stop, someone’s gonna get hurt.“ “And it would be a shame if you got caught in the crossfire.” he spat out, the silence ringing in your ears as if his threat were a slap. “Goodnight, Thomas.” You replied, slamming the phone down, not even sure if he was still there to hear you but not willing to argue anymore. You didn’t stop walking around the halls, hoping that someone else would tell you more about what actually went down, still in the dark, but no one did.

That night you laid in bed, thinking over everything that had happened, or at least what you knew. The fairytale routine you had fallen in with Luca, the fancy restaurants, chivalrous words and tender kisses were taken away from you so soon after they started, leaving you desperate for what you had started growing so used to. Had it not been for the vendetta, he’d probably be here next to you right now, drawing circles on your shoulders with his fingertips, kissing you softly. But he wasn’t here, and all you knew was that he must’ve been alive somehow, since Tommy had no idea as to where he could’ve been. Standing up you took a few steps towards the small balcony, desperate for some fresh air. There was barely enough space to stand on it so you leaned on the window frame, spotting someone moving away just as you glanced down towards the back street. Had you been in a less emotional state you’d have never chased after them, but right now all you wanted were answers. You turned the corner, losing your balance as you slammed into someone, but their hands held you up, pulling you against them. “You shouldn’t have come out here, principessa. You never know who might linger in the dark.” With your mouth agape you stood still for a moment, realising who was standing in front of you and finally wrapping your arms around him, colliding with his chest once more. He let out a low chuckle, melting into your embrace and holding you, feeling your heartbeat calm him down, a natural remedy that only you could provide. Your tears fell freely, wetting his coat while you shivered against him. “Well, lucky me then.” you joked, breathing in his scent, the notes of sandalwood surrounding you. “What happened?” “Nothing. The police got in the way.” he shrugged lightly, his hands still around your waist, pulling you against him. “Thomas was looking for you. He called me.” he nodded, looking around the street for any signs of someone spying on them, but no one was around at this time, but he didn’t care either way. “I’m leaving for Camden Town. I won’t be back for a few days, so you won’t see me for a bit.” “And what are you going to do in Camden Town?” You asked, although you already knew the answer. He wouldn’t stop, and there was only one man in London that had a strong connection to Tommy, and not always a good one. You had never met Alfie Solomons, but you knew enough about him to know where this was going. “Not important. I came to get a goodbye kiss.” his eyes crinkled as he smiled, lifting your chin with his fingers and finding his mouth, kissing you with an initial softness, growing into a hunger that he couldn’t afford right now. He groaned, breaking the kiss, resting his forehead to yours. “What are you planning, Luca?” “Goodnight, dear.” “It’s not gonna end well.” “Goodnight, dear.” He repeated, kissing your forehead and lingering for a moment more, before urging you to walk back home, waiting until you were out of sight to slip away, walking towards the car that would take him to London.

You spent days waiting for something, but there was nothing. No calls, no letters, no news. You picked a few books off your bookshelf, books you had never had the time to read, and scanned the pages, not managing to focus on more than a few pages. It was that dark feeling in your chest that you couldn’t ignore, and the lack of news only made it worse, feeding your mind with the most horrible scenarios. It felt like a blessing, if only for a short moment, when a call arrived shortly after dinner. You were resting your head on the sofa, singing along to some old songs while you stared at your hands, the concept of time slowly slipping away, when you received the news, making you sit up in disbelief. Polly had been brief, delivering the news and nothing more, leaving you clutching your telephone and staring into thin air for what felt like hours. She hadn’t said anything more, leaving you with the feelings that surrounded you. Sadness, rage, hopelessness… everything was bubbling in your chest, a feeling of guilt coating everything, making you feel like you were somehow at fault here, like you hadn’t prevented this. You paced around for most of the night, only pausing your wondering when the realisation hit you again, big tears slipping past your eyes as you recalled the memories of the times shared, stopping your incessant actions at the faint knock at the door early in the morning. “I saw your light on.” he looked behind you, his lips twitching up for a short moment, only to fall back into a stoic look when he met your gaze, clearly seeing the tears that you tried to wipe away before opening the door, your eyes red with sadness and rage. “Tell me you didn’t.” It was a whisper, one that made his heart break. It wasn’t just your expression, nor the redness under your eyes, but your moving away from the door, as if you feared him. “Alfie Solomons-” he started, willing to offer an explanation for his deeds. “I don’t care about Alfie! I asked you to stop this after the vendetta happened!” you shouted, getting closer just to throw punches at his chest, yet no matter your anger you were nothing but gentle, barely making him flinch. “He didn’t stop either.” “Because he’s stubborn. He’s-” “I am too. He killed my men. Just ‘cause you were closer to Arthur doesn’t mean that the death of my men means nothing.” “I don’t want to be part of this anymore.” you announced, slipping from his grasp and moving away, putting as much distance between the two of you as you could. “You never were a part of this.” “Maybe not, but with how things are going I’m going to end up as collateral damage.” “You know I’d never let anything happen to you. Even if you stood by him, I wouldn’t-” You turned and walked up the stairs, ignoring his words and grabbing your traveling bag from the wardrobe as he made his way up, scoffing but following you into the bedroom nonetherless. You picked your clothes and folded them quickly, placing them in the bag and throwing a couple other belongings in. “What are you doing?” He asked, sitting on your bed and stopping your movements by holding your hips, his touch delicate, in harsh contrast with his look. He always felt so… different around you. Delicate, careful, loving. Little things, like the way he remembered what wine you liked, or some of your little quirks, or the softness of his touches when he was near you. After the night where you both fell into your bed, he’d become more open with showing his affection, but before that he never really shied away from it either. His hand gently cradling the small of your back when guiding you into a restaurant, or the brush of his fingers against your cheek when a stray hair got away from behind your ear. “I’m ending it tomorrow.” He announced, avoiding your gaze. “What?” You turned to face him, not fully understanding his plan of attack. “I called a meeting with Thomas.” “To apologise?” “To make a deal.” He corrected you. “But it might not work. So…” He took one of his rings off, holding your hand and placing it in your palm, closing it around it. “To remember me by. Or not. Maybe it’s better to forget me, after all.” He brought your hand to your lips, as if to seal a deal, smiling. “I won’t have to remember you. You’re not going.” Your hand on his arm was supposed to stop him, or slow him down at least, but he just smiled at you as you would with a child that doesn’t fully understand the state the world is in. “I have to finish what I started.” “Luca, don’t.” you tried to give it back, but he shook his head, moving away from you and down the stairs. “Arthur didn’t deserve it.” “He’s the one that pulled the trigger.” You didn’t speak, not knowing what to add. You knew he was referring to the death of his father, but what Arthur had done was almost out of mercy. Tommy wouldn’t have stopped, so he intervened. There were many mistakes he had made in his life, but dying because of an act of mercy wasn’t what he deserved. “Ti amo, bedda mia.” And with a final look he left, not waiting for an answer, exhaling when the door closed behind him. He saw the way you looked at him, the tears that escaped your eyes, feeling betrayed by his actions, but he did what he had to do. “Luca, we’re not finished talking.” Your words had no effect on the man, just like you knew they wouldn’t, but you couldn’t stop yourself from speaking them. It wasn’t only grief that was holding you back now, but fear. For a moment you saw the man just as he had been painted since the beginning: a gangster, a killer, nothing more but a heartless man. You fell back against the wall, clinging on to the ring he had gifted you, the only thing that felt certain right now. You watched as he stepped out, closing the door behind him ever so gently, to avoid making noise, and wondered what hid behind those eyes. How much could you risk for him?

He could feel you looking at him as he made his way out, knowing just how disappointed you were, but he wouldn’t back down. He knew what was going to go down tomorrow, what he’d say, how he'd move, and he’d do anything to have you by his side.

After all, all is fair in love and war.

#luca changretta x reader #luca changretta x you #luca changretta #luca changretta imagine #peaky blinders x reader #peaky blinders fanfic #peaky blinders #love and war fic #Liza's attempts at writing

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foxleycrow · 3 years

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Thranduil & Túrin playing together in Doriath, for @tolkiengenweek —when I realized they could have been kids in Doriath at the same time, I had to draw them together.

This one also comes with a short accompanying fic about their meeting:

To Wear an Elven Crown

Thranduil had longed to meet the Adan since he had heard the first tales of his arrival in Doriath. His wish had displaced most other longings in his heart. If he could speak to an Adan, he could practice his Mannish and ask him about so many things, like the life of his people and the world outside the Fence. Beleg Cúthalion had found the Adan lost in the woods, and then King Thingol had adopted him! Thranduil had never heard of anyone adopting an Adan, let alone the king himself. If he were now Thingol's son, did that mean he was an Elf, as well as a Man?

Thranduil had asked his father several times whether he could visit the Adan, but each time he was told the newcomer was too unwell. He had been sick and weak when he was discovered, and he was not yet strong enough to entertain company. This news sank him into a deep state of worry. The Edain could contract illnesses, and were mortal. What if this one became very sick, or even died! Of course, the healers of Doriath were the greatest in Middle-earth, but the Adan had come from dangerous lands far from the protection of Doriath, where anything might have befallen him. Thranduil had heard stories of strange fevers and chills that Edain could suffer from; what if the Elven healers did not know how to treat them?

"If he were to speak with someone his own age, Ada, he might feel better." The Adan was young, like himself. Not precisely the same age, since Edain aged so differently, but near enough in essence. He wondered what kind of games the Edain played. Maybe they had invented some no Elves had dreamed of…

"Do you believe so?" asked Oropher, raising an eyebrow. "An interesting perspective. I did not know you had become such an expert on the matter."

"I would feel better, if it were me." In defiance of his father's eyebrow, he added, "I asked Beleg to tell me everything he knows about the Edain."

"Oh, so you are an expert. My mistake." Oropher's hand settled on his head. Thranduil felt the warmth of his father's skin on his brow and blinked. "He has been through much, little Tuil," said Oropher. "We will not tax him any more than we need to."

After offering a gentle pat, Oropher withdrew his hand. Thranduil lay back, resting his head among the grasses. Thranduil did not expect his father to understand, for Oropher was very old. There were no children in King Thingol's house, and if they would not allow Thranduil to visit and talk to the Adan, then they would not have let any other children in to speak to him; that was obvious.

"I am an expert," Thranduil murmured, closing his eyes. Beleg had told him that the Edain could grow lonely and sad, like Elves, and that they too loved to dance and sing and tell tales. The Adan was named Túrin, and his father had been an Elf-friend. That meant he was an Elf-friend, too. If he was a friend, then he should be treated as one and given a warm welcome by everyone in Menegroth. Surely that would make him feel better than being kept away from others.

"Are you falling asleep?" Oropher asked. "I'll take you back home."

He shook his head stubbornly, the blades of grass making themselves felt on his cheeks and chin. Narrow, but not quite sharp. They did not hurt, but he sensed each one keenly. "No, I want to nap out here in the sun." They were well behind the Fence and close to Menegroth, so these woods were safe and guarded. He could play or explore or rest among the trees whenever he liked, because Queen Melian kept them all from harm.

He heard Oropher's soft laughter and felt his father's hand settle on his head again briefly. Then he was only aware of the warm sun heating his skin and the faintly prickly touch of the grass carpeting the clearing. Soon, he was not aware of the clearing either, lost in a dream, wandering far from the waking world. He dreamed he was journeying through a dark, withered wood, bristling with dead branches. The sky was veiled with dense, gray clouds. There was an unnatural air to them, as if storm clouds had been thickened with smoke.

There was a cold wind at his back, and he was all alone. The dead trees were so tall, they made him feel smaller. He heard something moving behind him, breaking branches and rustling through shriveled leaves. An animal? Or something worse? He did not know, and he did not want to turn to look, so he ran. He ran until he felt he had been always running, yet no matter how quick his steps, the noises behind him persisted, never any closer, but never farther away.

Thranduil woke with a gasp. He sat up and scanned the clearing. It was as green and tranquil as it had been when he fell asleep. He heard the low buzz of insect song and the faint voices of the trees. Father was gone. He saw no sign of anyone nearby, although that was not unusual. The sun's light was starting to fade from the sky. It was that between-time when patches of sunlight were still scattered across the forest floor, while the first stars appeared in the purpling twilight above. Thranduil rose to his feet. He was a little hungry, but he was well-rested, and he wasn't ready to return home. He would rather play, until Father came to fetch him. He left the clearing, slipping into the undergrowth as soundlessly as possible.

One of his favorite games was Marchwarden. It was more fun to play with someone else, but it was a game he could also play alone, simply by moving as quickly and quietly as possible, so that no enemies could see or hear him—exactly like a Marchwarden. He was tracking. Not hunting, but searching for any sign of danger, to keep Doriath safe. He studied whatever tracks he came across, or other signs of passage, such as broken twigs or bent grasses, trying to judge who or what had come the same way, and how long ago. He could wander like this for hours, happily, alone.

He was not entirely happy. He was more uneasy as he searched for signs in the grass, because of his dream. Within the dead wood, he had felt like he would never be allowed to rest, racing with an enemy eternally at his back. Dreams always meant something, but not always what you thought they meant. It took a wise Elf to read dreams. He could have asked his father about it, and maybe he would later. Now, he stalked through the dense growth, crouching low so his pale hair couldn't be seen.

When he heard low and distant voices, Thranduil was still lost in his game, so he crouched lower, listening intently as he crept closer. He slowed his breathing, his heartbeat, hiding as he'd been taught.

"—where he could have gone—?"

"We will find him, and soon. There's only so far...."

"I hadn't thought he was strong enough. I would never have guessed he'd be so quick."

"You shouldn't underestimate—"

The speakers moved away, out of the range of his hearing. Those were two of Thingol's guards. Could they have been talking about the Adan? It was possible, and not only because Thranduil thought of the Adan so often. Who else would they have thought wasn't strong enough? If the Adan was lost, he might grow sicker. Imagine how upset King Thingol would be. If Thranduil was a Marchwarden, then he had a duty to do whatever he could to protect everyone in Doriath: including any Edain. He moved on again, more quickly and with greater purpose.

He studied the forest, down to the least leaf, and he listened to the birds singing, the faint breeze moving through the branches. He listened for telltale noises, or telltale silences. He wondered whether the Adan had had a nightmare, like he had. Maybe that was why he had run off. It must have been hard for him to leave his home behind, especially because of the war: that distant, dark shadow hanging over everything, even the forests of Doriath.

Where would an Adan go? Possibly into the undergrowth, where he was. A place where someone small would hide. Thranduil knew of many secret spaces ideal for concealing himself, but few of them were nearby, close to where the guards were hunting. A slight Adan would leave faint footprints. Like Thranduil, he would have been trained in how to hide, if he were in danger. Thranduil was sure that the great trackers of Doriath could find anyone, but maybe Túrin would be difficult to find, more difficult than they expected.

Thranduil headed toward the Dome—it was a vast, curving structure of twisted woody shrubs, crowned with flowering vines. It was bright enough to draw the eye of a stranger to these woods, and dense enough to provide ample cover and shelter. Thranduil often crawled in there to play, because it was like a fortress. He could pretend he ruled there, lord of the branches and leaves and blossoms.

Thranduil found a faint indentation that might have been left by someone running this way. Shortly after that, he spied a tiny tuft of thread, caught on a hooked thorn. It was bright blue in color, so it stood out more than it might have otherwise. Could he have been correct in thinking the Adan might have been come this way? He had been guessing, but maybe he really was a Marchwarden. He would have to tell Beleg, if he succeeded in his hunt.

Emboldened by the thought that he might be better at tracking than Thingol's own guard, Thranduil sank to his knees and crawled into one of the narrow passageways that led into the Dome. With twisting branches on either side of him, and a ceiling of ivy above, no one outside would be able to see him, once he had travelled the length of a few paces. There were no wider ways in, the growth here was so dense. Anyone who was much larger than Thranduil would have had to cut their way through. Among the branches, Thranduil caught sight of another slight scrap of blue thread. The branches here loved to tug on clothing.

Encouraged, Thranduil moved faster, until he arrived at a fall of dense vines, pushed through them, and found himself confronted by a pair of dark, shining eyes, staring at him. The Adan gave a start, but did not run. It was hard to travel quickly within the Dome, especially if one didn't know it as well as Thranduil did. Thranduil had half-suspected he was imagining his grand success in tracking, so he sat, blinked and stared back at his quarry, startled and bewildered and pleased.

The Adan was seated with his knees drawn up toward his chest. He was very thin, the thinnest child Thranduil had ever seen. His narrow face made his eyes look bigger. Here, he was walled off from the world—or most of it. He looked a great deal like an Elf, although Thranduil could tell he was different as well. It was hard to say exactly why; he simply felt different, like the night air felt different from the air of day, or the atmosphere before a storm as opposed to in the dry season: different in so many various slight ways, some of which were easier to describe than others.

Although Thranduil had longed for their meeting with joy, he felt unexpectedly solemn, now that it was taking place. "Hello," he ventured, in Sindarin. "I'm Thranduil, Son of Oropher."

The Adan blinked, and for a moment, Thranduil wasn't sure if he would—or could—reply, but at last he answered softly, "I'm Túrin, Son of Húrin."

"Why are you out here?" Thranduil asked. He didn't wish to sound accusatory, so he added, "Did you want to play?"

Túrin looked away, into the shadows between the leaves. "I wanted to be by myself."

Thranduil nodded, as this was perfectly understandable. "I like to be by myself, too."

Túrin's gaze shifted back to Thranduil. He seemed relieved to hear this, exhaling.

"Can I stay, though?" Thranduil asked. "Now that I'm here."

"You can stay," Túrin said.

Thranduil knew that Thingol and all his guards and attendants and everyone must be nervous, but he didn't think a little while longer would do any harm, especially not when Túrin must have run here for a reason. Being surrounded by everyone at court could be overwhelming. Thranduil had never been far away from home and everyone he knew before, but it must be hard. It would be better not to rush him. He would let Túrin rest for a little while, and then he would take him to Thingol—just as Beleg had, before.

"I can show you something," he offered.

After another hesitation, Túrin nodded.

"Follow me," said Thranduil. He crawled ahead, between the branches, into the gloom. The last of the day's slight, slipping in through the leaves and vines above, made soft, pale shifting shapes on their hands and on the ground beneath. After a long way, the structure of the dome opened up onto a green glade, surrounded by dense undergrowth on all sides. No one would walk here casually, and if he and Túrin didn't stand up, no one would be able to see them from outside the enclosure. The glade was also hidden, but there was more room to stretch out, and even lie down. It was a fine place for a nap, with soft earth and open sky above. Clusters of flowers grew in profusion, along with tufts of dense grass. Thranduil and Túrin admired their new hiding place in silence, while birds sang in the trees overhead. It was not yet true night, only early twilight. The birds would keep singing a little longer.

"I come here sometimes when I want to be alone," Thranduil said. In the past days and weeks, he had formulated an ever-growing list of questions he would like to ask the Adan, but he did not ask a single one of them now.

Túrin nodded again, lowering his gaze. He reached down and ran his fingers through the grass. There were shadows beneath his eyes, and he did not smile.

"Everyone's looking for you," said Thranduil. "They must be worried."

"I didn't mean to make anyone worry. They shouldn't worry. I don't know why I—" He broke off, closing his eyes.

"It's all right. No one will be angry with you," Thranduil reassured him quickly, moved by Túrin's pained expression. "I'm not angry. I've been waiting to meet you. I've never met an Adan before."

Túrin's eyes reopened, slowly. "Never?"

Thranduil inclined his head in confirmation. "Never."

"I hadn't really met Elves before," said Túrin.

"But now you have. You've met Beleg, and King Thingol, and me. Everyone's happy you're here, that's why they're worried. But we don't have to go back right away. We can wait until you feel better." He cast about the glade, looking for something else he could show the Adan, to cheer him. Along with the two of them, the glade was bursting with life, all the usual green and growing things, rising from the earth and insisting on themselves… "Here—I'll make you something."

"Make me what—?"

"Look." Thranduil's gaze went to a stand of nearby pale purple flowers. These particular blossoms were edible and often harvested. It would do no harm to take a few, especially at this time of year. Quickly, he plucked a few of them, leaving a length of green stem on each. Once he had gathered enough, he wove them together. Flowers and grasses were easy to weave, especially into a circle. When they were joined, he tapped them with his fingers. He could feel the energy moving through the blooms and stems. He closed his eyes briefly, concentrating on that living force, pressing the separate strands of it into one: forging it into a single, singing ring and willing the flowers—live, preserve. They were no longer separate blooms; they had become a single entity. Their petals, which had been in the first stage of wilting, straightened with pride, made fresh and new. It was such a simple thing to do, yet Túrin was wide-eyed and rapt, staring at his hands as if he had performed a wonder. "A crown for you, Prince Túrin." Thranduil reached out and settled the circlet of blooms on Túrin's head.

Finally, Túrin smiled at him. Thranduil smiled back.

They did not stay long, alone in that green glade together, hidden by a conspiracy of leaves and vines and branches. They were never meant to stay long. The world outside was waiting for them to emerge. While the sun receded and the stars began to show themselves—one by one at first, then all at once, like a rain of jewels scattering across the sky—they played and laughed for a few moments.

As Thranduil predicted, when they returned to Menegroth, Túrin did not receive a single scolding. Thingol wrapped him in a fierce embrace. Beleg was as impressed by Thranduil's skills as Thranduil had hoped. He praised Thranduil for his skill in tracking, and said he could visit Túrin whenever he wanted. Eventually, he was able to ask Túrin every question on his extensive list.

Many long years later, tragedy faded into myth for so many, but not for those who were there. Thranduil rarely listened to the sad songs that touched on the subject of Túrin Turambar, but when a certain mood was on him, he would ask the harpers to play one of the few he approved of. Thranduil had grown very old. Seated on his throne, wearing his own heavy crown, he would lean back and remember the smile of a young boy with his dark hair full of flowers.

#thranduil #turin turambar #thranduil art #thranduil fic #tolkiengenweek #silmarillion #silmarillion art #silmarillion fic #tolkien #tolkien art #tolkien fic #oropher #silm fic #silm art #silm

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tokoyamisstuff · 3 years

Text

Scandal Ch. 4 - Loki x Reader

Summary: Nothing can stop the wrath of the God of Mischief, when he realizes he had been deceived by the people he trusted more than his beloved wife.

Warnings: Angst, Violence

Words: ~1700

"But what the world fails to realize is a villain is just a victim whose story hasn’t been told.” - Chris Colfer

I Story Masterlist I General Masterlist I

Taglist: @hi-there-x @haloangel391 @misssilencewritewell @babayaga67 @accioremuslupinn @mochimommy2002 @just-someone-who-likes-to-write @damalseer @bethanystan @loser-alert @star017 @nina1800 @queenariesofnarnia @n1fangirlsblog @vengefulsokovian @lunamoonbby @freyagallileaevans

A/N: This is a rather boring chapter, but we’re far from done!

“She already left several moons ago. It was her own wish, we did not force her.”

“Where to?”

“Midgard.”

Loki was long back on Asgardian territory, yet his mind couldn’t find peace. Well, how could he, now knowing what Laufey told him?

His world had already crumbled to dust when he left you behind - but if Laufey spoke the truth, his whole existence had been built on lies from the very start.

Not knowing where to search for answers, the prince sneaked into Odin’s forbidden chambers, walking in the shadows protecting him in the midst of night.

There it was: The Cascet of Ancient Winters - the very relic that doomed the fate of your newborn, revealing it’s shameful blood to all of Asgard.

It just urged him to try and see for himself, even if the truth would shatter his heart.

“STOP!”

Loki wouldn’t even flinch at the Allfather’s words, already tightly holding the cascet in both hands.

“Am I cursed?”

The God of Mischief wouldn’t even dare to turn around and look at the person he always ever thought to be his father - for as soon as he laid fingers on the cascet, he began turning into that same shade of blue your son did.

Panic began to rise in the young god, fearing to be killed by the people he loved so dearly shall they lay eyes upon what he truly was. His chest began to tighten, fastened breath turning into a cold mist.

“No” was Odin’s firm but unsatisfying answer, to which Loki only responded by putting down the cascet.

“What am I?”

“You’re my son.” His words came from the heart, not even faltering as Loki turned around to present his Jotun form to the Allfather.

“What more than that?!” he almost growled in between gritted teeth, appearance slowly returning to his usual self.

At that deepest, darkest day in his life yet, Loki would be too blinded by betrayal and rage to see his father’s true love towards his adoptive son.

“The cascet wasn’t the only thing you took back from Jotunheim that day, was it?” The prince took firm steps towards the man that he had known all his life, but had become a complete stranger towards him through that sole moment.

Again, only a “no.”

Loki’s mind was racing, thinking about what else may have been hidden from himself - and what kind of consequences that revelation had for everything he had done up until now.

“In the aftermath of the battle, I went to the temple -- and I found a baby” the Allfather continued, “Small, for a giant’s offspring. Abandoned, suffering, left to die...”

“...Laufeyson” Loki completed Odin’s sentence. So every word the King of the Jotunns had said was indeed a fact.

“W-W-why?!” he almost whined, voice weak and defeated. “You were knee deep in Jotun blood, why would you take me?”

“You were an innocent child-”

“No.” The God of Lies himself had become so sick of being fed those, starting to snap. “You took me for a purpose. What was it???”

For what felt like an eternity, there was only silence.

The image of that small, blue child in his arms had been painfully burned into his heart back then. But now that he knew the story behind all of this, it held a completely different meaning.

Just like he had been abandoned back on that frozen rock, he had abandoned his own child, as well as the love of his life.

Outcast, abused, left to die...and now, god knows what had happened to you...

That secret had destroyed more than just his own life. It had ruined the only honest happiness he was ever given - you, and his son.

“TELL ME!”

He just needed to know: The reason behind all the pain and suffering he had to endure - and caused to others as well.

“I thought we could unite our kingdoms one day, bring about an alliance, bring about permanent peace...through you.”

That was just too much for Loki to bear. “What?” he reacted with a barely-there voice, every word of his father shooting daggers through his heart.

“But those plans no longer matter.” No matter what Odin might want to explain, Loki wasn’t able to listen to any more, jumping into his own conclusions.

“So I am no more than another stolen relic, locked up inside of here until you might have use for me?!” he croaked, afraid of the answer.

“Do not twist my words.”

“You could told me what I was from the beginning!” he now yelled, furious at how virtuous Odin would still defend his own action. “Why didn’t you?”

“You’re my son” he repeated once again. “I only wanted to protect you from the truth.”

“Why, ‘cause I-I-I-I’m the monster people tell their children about at night?!” Loki clenched his fists, fingernails drawing blood to his palm.

“At least when my son was born, you should’ve dropped the charade!” Pure agony was dripping from every syllable, and for a mere second, his eyes were glistering bright red once again. “You’ve forsaken two innocent lives - the most important beings in my pathetic existence - and now you’ve burdened me with their suffering as well!”

That sure was a miracle - how a person so broken from the beginning wouldn’t collapse under pressure that huge.

“It all makes sense now, why you favoured Thor, all those years! Because no matter how much you claim to love me, you could never have a Frost Giant sitting on the throne of Asgard!”

But who cares about the throne, honestly? Not him. Not anymore. Ever since he knew you.

It all dawned to him now: What he could have, if only he had put his trust in you like so many times before.

All his life, he only ever remembers a shadow. At first, he thought it to be the shadow of his brother, or never being enough for his own father. Maybe the other Asgardians looking down on him, making him feel like he doesn’t belong.

Yet in the end, that very shadow was inside of his own mind.

But you?

You had loved Loki with all of your heart, banishing the darkness from his mind through your bright affection.

It didn’t matter to you what anyone thought of him - or even what he thought himself to be.

Because you saw him for what he really was, and he found peace with that.

And he was certain that it wouldn’t matter to you whether he called himself Odinson or Laufeyson - as had you loved his child dearly, ever since he took his first breath.

He could never make up for that greatest of his sins, Loki knew that much.

Or...?

“Where are you going, my son?”

Reluctantly, Loki made his way past the man he now only considered a stranger. Still, when Odin tried to reach out to him, Loki immediately ducked away, startled and afraid for his true nature to hurt anyone.

More than ever before, the God of Mischief despised himself to the core of his being. He was lost, confused, shocked - and still, determined.

“Creating a Kingdom for my family.”

___

[Earth, 2 months later]

On times like these, you thought your mind was betraying you.

Especially when you catched yourself reminiscing sweet, innocent moments - far back in the past, before everything you ever held dearly got destroyed.

You still felt his touch, feather-light on your skin, as well as his scent haunting your memories. And sometimes you couldn’t help but wonder how life would have been, well...if things were different.

Frantically shaking your head, you clasped the book closed and threw it into a corner of the small one-room-flat SHIELD had provided for you.

Your magical pockets were always almost empty, except for a few necessities - and that book. It held the first flower Loki ever gifted you, and you had dried it in between those pages so it would never lose it’s beauty.

But now, remembering meant pain - because Loki Laufeyson would never come back.

For he is dead.

Fell of the Bifrost, as confirmed by Heimdall, who secretly kept in touch with you all this time. So you knew it all: Of his grief and treason, which slowly led him into madness.

And what did you do in the meantime?! Nothing at all!

You should’ve tried everything, anything to get back and help him go through that time of need, hel!

“Endure it, Y/N...you need to stay strong...for Liam.” After so many times of telling those words to yourself, you doubted them to have any effect on your broken heart at all.

Yet it would never fail to keep you going. For that wonderful child was proof of your love, and now your last memory of him.

Rocking the small Jotun to sleep, tears found their way to your eyes like so many times before, dropping to the baby’s face unnoticed.

So you tried to sing your pain away as you cooed that little wonder to sleep.

“Å eg lengtar så tidt dette landet å sjå, Og det dreg meg så blidt, når eg langt er ifrå. Med den våknande vår vert min saknad so sår, så mest gråta, mest gråta eg kan. Å eg minnest, å eg minnest, å eg minnest så vel dette land. Å eg minnest, å eg minnest, å eg minnest så vel dette land.”

*Translation:

“Oh I long so long to see this land, And it pulls me so gently, when I'm far away. With the waking spring host my missing so sore, so most cry, most cry eg can. Oh I remember, oh I remember, oh I remember this country as well. Oh I remember, oh I remember, oh I remember this country as well.”

#Loki #Loki x Reader #Loki x You #Loki / Reader #Loki / You #Loki Laufeyson #Loki Odinson #Loki Friggason #God of Mischief #Loki x Y/N #Self Insert #Writing #Fanfiction #Jotunn #Jotunheim #Asgard #Frost Giant

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starr-fall-knight-rise · 3 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Unlikely Friends.”

Wrote this this morning and thought of my friend Nora :)

I hope you all like it.

The GA Biological Exploration team had not expected to have humans along for their expedition, but then again, they had hardly expected to have large carnivorous worms attack them the last time, so they supposed that extra protection was worth it. But the humans were really just there for protection, so the team mostly ignored them meandering around in a wide circle with their weapons ready.

Everyone knew that humans weren’t exactly the smartest species in the galaxy, somewhere above Drev and below Tesraki, so they were really only good for protection most of the time, or at least that is how many of the team saw it, none of them having ever really worked with a human closely before. The foliage on this planet happened to be a strange sort of blue violet color, and the sky above also tended more towards purple than it did towards blue.

There were plenty of large and unusual looking flowers, mostly red in color, though, when seen under UV light they glowed in many colors unseen by those who could only view on the visible spectrum.

The head scientist was just beginning to sample one of the flowers, when he noticed one of the humans out of the corner of his eye crouching next to one of the plants. His hand was completely uncovered, it turned out that humans were perfectly fine in the atmosphere, and it looked like he was preparing to touch the plant.

“What do you think you are doing!” He screeched, and the human drew back slightly. The head scientists wasn’t used to humans and so did not really understand the expression on it’s too- mobile face. This particular specimen of a human covered one of its eyes, and looked slightly familiar though he could not have placed it. All humans looked the same to him.

“I uh…. Well nothing.”

“You were going to touch that, weren't you!”

“Well I…”

“Because you better not try that again. We just landed on this planet and we have no idea what kind of affects the flora and fauna can cause.” He turned away before quickly spinning back in place glowering at the human, “Actually, on second thought, a warning isn’t enough for you, you have already proven that you cannot be trusted.” He pointed towards a little clearing not far off, “Go sit down and keep your hands to yourself until we are done here.”

The human went to protest, but he did not allow for that.

He had no time for people who could not follow proper safety protocols. The human looked about ready to argue with him, but one stern look sent the human slouching off.

He nodded rather pleased with himself. That is how you dealt with humans properly, a firm hand was what they needed. They were kind of slow so you had to repeat yourself a few times, but they responded well to a frm no nonsense hand.

***

Admiral Vir sat in time out.

His hands were neatly resting in his lap as he sat criss cross on an alien planet staring up at the sky. A few times the other marines would pass by and grin at him and he would smile sheepishly back. He had been put in time out for touching the local wildlife. Believe it or not, his mother used to hate taking him shopping as a kid because he just had to touch everything. He was also the reason that his father had forbade them from putting their hands, tongues, or feet, don’t ask, against the window.

There had even been a rule in museums that he had to be holding his dad or his mother’s hand while they walked around to avoid him embarrassing them by touching something that he wasn’t supposed to. He had always loved those interactive museums for kids.

Apparently this habit had not exactly gone away into his adult life.

And now here he was Admiral Adam Vir, Armada commander of the GA and UNSC combined forces….. And he had been put in time out so he wouldn't touch anything. He took it with good humor though. By all rights he should have learned his lesson by now…. Considering the incident….

He shook himself and leaned back in the alien flora, resting his head back on a big flat mushroom that was pleasantly spongy and acted as a great pillow so that he could stare up at the sky. At some point he accidentally took a bit of a nap, and when he woke up next the voices had faded as the scientists wandered off into the forest, and he was left alone with only the shuttle sitting and twinkling with metallic light.

He frowned, someone could have told him they were moving on, but that was ok.

He sat up legs still crossed and rested his chin against his hand in boredom.

He picked at the dirt below him, and then prodded one of the strange mushrooms.

Adam was bored.

He stood glancing around and walked to the edge of the clearing where one of those red flowers was sitting and, looking over his shoulder again reached down to touch it making a face in the direction that scientist had gone off.

It's not like he was hurting anything.

The flower petals were soft, and felt almost like velvet below his fingertips.

He sniffed a it to find that it smelled oddly like…. Bleach? Though he could completely have been wrong about that.

Walking over, to the nearest tree-like structure, which was very tall and thin with an umbrella like apparatus overhead, he found the bark of the tree to have a bunch of small berry like structures on it in a light blue color. He reached out and picked one. It came off with a sort of soft popping noise, and he rolled it around between his fingers leaving behind a purplish residue.

He squeezed it, and berry juice came out.

It smelled sweet, though even he wasn’t stupid enough to taste it.

He dropped what remained of the berry t the ground and was just rummaging through the foliage when…. A sound, the snap of one of those mushrooms, pulled him from his reverie. Like a deer in the headlights he jerked quickly upright and looked around his heart already beginning to hammer.

He turned his head, looking into the bushes where he had heard the sound, and as he did, he thought he caught a strange flicking sort of movement. It was low to the ground, and as it moved it seemed to… slither through the underbrush.

Adam lowered himself slowly to the ground reaching behind him and drawing his handgun.

There was a strange noise, like more of those berries popping off the tree, and then the slithering moved on.

He couldn’t help but be interested, and followed the sound to where it had been last, finding that all of the berries had been stripped from the trunk of the tree.

“Huh, you like berries do you.” He said to himself wandering over to the next tree and scraping off a handful into his palm. He could still hear the creature moving ahead of him through the brush, and he followed after it, tracking it’s movement with his ears more than his eyes. He would have used his thermal vision, but decided against it. It was much more fun this way. Of course a part of him knew that this was a horrible idea, but Adam had never really been known to listen to his own common sense, especially when it came to meeting new aliens.

A segment of dirt showed below him, and he bent down to examine the track.

It wasn’t a footprint, but a long drag mrk through the soil.

How interesting.

He heard more of that popping noise up ahead and followed after it.

When he got closer there was a sharp sound as if something was drawing back on itself.

The creature had noticed him.

He crouched down in the bushes eyes forward to where he knew the alien was.

He dropped some of the berries onto the ground leaving a trail back to his hand where he waited.

Of course he expected to see some sort of creature.

What he did not expect was a massive purple viper with a head as big around as a football if not bigger peeping through the bushes

He froze in place blood running cold.

It had one large eye in the middle of its face and weird protrusions along the side of it’s head which looked to act like whiskers as they trembled in the breeze.

It rose up slowly from the ground lifting its head into the air and then opening its mouth. Its face was segmented into three, so when its mouth opened its face became twice as large, opening sort of like the hood of a cobra. It didn’t have a tongue but many small undulating follicles across its mouth stained with purple juice.

Its mouth closed and its head lowered as it looked down at the berries he had let out.

He stayed stock still as the creatures slithered closer lowering its head and lapping the berries off the ground.

Its body was smooth, not completely like that of a snake but similar, ad strange protrusions stuck up from it’s back rising and falling as it slithered forward.

It followed his little trail of berries until finally it was not inches away from his hand.

I lifted his head again, and from where he crouched, he started the creature right in the face. One eye to one eye.

It made a sort of rattling noise ad opened its mouth again.

He imagined it striking at his face latching onto him and sucking his life out through his eyes.

But instead the creature closed its mouth again, and the tendrils moved forward at the side outfits head, almost like it was sniffing at him.

It lowered it’s head

And opened its mouth and he felt the hot humidity of it’s mouths. The creature sucked the berries frm his hand. Each of the little saccules felt like suction cups against his hand. It curled into a large coil against the ground and lifted its head again to look at him almost expectantly. He raised his hand slowly and it shied away.

He made no sound as he reached out and pulled some more of the berries from a nearby tree before slowly proffering them to the creature who sucked them up from his han.

He did that a few more times until, reaching out, he let the creature eat from his hand before gently stroking it along its underbelly. He had a feeling those protrusions on its back were sensory, and he didn’t want to overload it. The creature pulled back in surprise at his touch, but not entirely,and as he continued to stroke down itt’s neck, it seemed…. To enjoy it, pressing into his hand and making that strange noise again.

He smiled giddy and scared at the same time.

This was so cool!

He coaxed the creature with him as he went around pulling berries from trees and feeding it from his cupped hands.

The sake thing slithered at his side, and on one occasion even began to slither up his body.

He let it and it used him as a staging ground to lift it’s head into the trees and suck the larger berries from higher up in the tree. He rewarded the snake thing with more belly rubs with his hands now stained purple.

Eventually voices floated to him through the forest.

The snake thing rested its chin on his head sunning itself on top of him like he was a tree.

He walked back towards the shuttle pleased to show the others his new friend.

*** The head scientist was pleased with the samples he had taken. He had started with the ground plants and was likely to work his way up. He had been careful not to touch anything, and hadn’t seen any native wildlife so far. It would take some time for them to get to know the planet like they really wanted to, but that's how these things worked, science was slow an they had to be careful-”What in the FUCK is that!”

The human’s cry of alarm jolted him from his thoughts and he looked up in stunned shock to see the human from earlier, walk forward cradling a large alien creature in his arms.

“SHHH, the human hissed, Don’t scare Jeffry.”

“Who the Fuck is jeffrey.”

The alien creature lifted it’s head and opened its trihinjed mout.

He rubbed it’s chin, “it’s okay Jeffrey, they are being very rude.”

The aliens stood on in shock, as the human patted the alien creature like… like well like nothing they had ever seen. He was just sitting there, cuddling an unknown alien.

“W-what did I say about TOUCHING things he hissed with a squeak.”

The human lifted it’s shoulders, “Well��. About that. I sort of, got bored, and then I saw Jeffrey and I thought why not try to make friends.”

“You tried to make friends with a giant alien snake?”

“Well I would rather not have made enemies with him.’ He rubbed “Jeffry’s chin and the snake thing rattled.

The other humans gathered around in shock and awe.

“What are you doing!” He hissed, “That thing could be dangerous.”

The humans ignored him.

“Yeah just get some of those berries, and I bet he’d eat right out of your hand, and then maybe you can pet him.”

The humans wandered off to find berries coming back with their hands piled and their skin stained purple.

“Don’t Touch it!” he squalled, but the humans were hearing none of it. The snake thing leaned down and slurped berries from cupped hands before stretching its neck upwards to enjoy pats from the other humans.

The aliens stood there in shock as the humans gathered around.

He had ordered the human not to touch anything, but instead he had gone off into the forest and pack bonded with some unknown alien creature.

He would have to write to his superiors about this.

He would not be working with humans in the future.

Annoyingly, humans had to make friends with everyone.

#humans are insane #humans are space orcs #humans are weird #earth is a deathworld #Earth is space Ausralia #humans are space oddities

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carelessannie · 3 years

Note

I’d love to read starker + tiny!innocent!peter with their first time 🥺🥺🥺 a/b/o would be great too

Okay okay okay something about this really screamed crossover to me so... here’s a Starker + Tangled crossover (you can guess who is who) with omegaverse and really dirty smut

Damn, I hope you like it anon! Really just took the smut and amplified it 👀👀

Warnings: omegaverse, sex pollen, fuck or die trope and dub-con, forced heat/rut, virgin peter, and I’m just gonna add coming untouched so I can put it on my bingo card because hot damn

Here’s my bingo card, the square coming untouched for @starkerfestivals

---

Tony traces a finger up Peter’s leg, smirking when he jerks away with a huff. He loves working the pretty pink Omega into a fit— he’s so easily flustered, god— and watching his face heat up and scent turn sweet in embarrassment.

“C’mon, crazy— show me how you do the healing thing again."

Peter glares at him, crossing his arms, “Why? Why do you need to know, bandit?"

“Ooo, bandit, I like that,” Tony sprawls out on the ground, peering up at Peter through the tall blades of grass. Peter’s moving his hands, quick little motions that Tony is absolutely entranced by, and he realizes the pretty Omega is weaving a flower crown. Damn, that’s adorable. When Peter doesn’t answer him, Tony turns onto his stomach and crawls closer, “Aww— don’t be like that, pipsqueak. You don’t have to show me anything."

Peter’s face scrunches up, his fingers stilling in their movement.

“Fine."

Tony sits up taller, “Fine?"

“I’ll show you how I do it. Come here,” Peter waves him over and points to the spot right in front of where he’s sitting. They both cross their legs and shuffle until their knees are pressed together, Tony marveling again at how small and sweet the Omega in front of him is.

“Give me your hands,” he commands, and Tony obeys, curious already. It’s truly unexpected when Peter grabs his wrists, guiding Tony’s fingers to tangle in his curls. “Hold on, okay?” Peter confirms, waiting until Tony nods.

Peter releases his hands and pushes his chest slightly, backing him flush against the boulder he’s resting on. Tony’s breathing picks up, speechless as Peter straddles his lap, sliding down until their chests are flush together. Through it all, Tony cradles Peter’s head reverently, jaw dropped in awe.

With one last shuffle, Peter leans forward and rests their foreheads together. He breathes deep, placing his delicate hands on Tony’s cheeks, and starts singing— low and sweet under his breath. When his eyes open again, there’s a golden rim around his iris, and his scent is heady, strong and deep with desire.

“Omega,” Tony gasps, tugging on Peter’s curls until his head tips back, exposing the long, pale column of his unblemished throat.

“Please,” Peter begs, lips falling open in a cry of pleasure, shaking the foundation of the forest around them, “touch me, Alpha— please."

Tony flips them and pins Peter to the ground, easily slotting between his legs and fitting his teeth around Peter’s neck, growling low and possessive. Peter’s scent is thick around them, and all Tony feels is insatiable heat, low in his gut.

What the hell?

With a snap, he pulls off Peter’s neck and looks down at the tiny Omega, using a thumb on his chin to force eye contact. Peter’s eyes are hazy, still ringed gold, and his lips spread in a saccharine smile.

“What’s wrong, Alpha?” he purrs, wiggling in Tony’s hold.

“What did you do?"

Peter’s face twists in confusion, “What do you mean?"

“I mean,” Tony gestures down, to where their obvious erections press together insistently, “I know we were having some magical moments— and I know you think I’m a scoundrel— but I’m usually not this horny at the drop of a hat. What was in that healing spell, Pete?"

“I’m not... I’m not sure,” he stutters, looking up at Tony fearfully, “It usually heals and does the... the... aging thing. It’s never... I’ve never..."

Tony understands, oh god does he understand. With the most restraint he’s ever show, Tony picks himself off the needy Omega, making sure their skin and bodies aren’t touching. Peter whines, but Tony ignores it, has to ignore it.

“I’m sorry, Petey, I really am— but there’s not way I’m stealing your virtue like this. As much as I’d love to, you deserve better than a romp in the mud, especially with an Alpha like me."

Peter sits up and reaches towards him, “No! What? I need you, please Alpha—"

“I can’t do that, Peter, please,” he begs backing away further. “I’m going to take care of... this,” he motions awkwardly to the obvious tent in his pants, “over there. And I suggest you do the same. We can talk in the morning."

The last thing Tony sees as he hurries away is the broken expression on the sweet Omega’s face, and his delicate hands tearing at layers of clothes.

Tony sighs, thankful to be out of temptation’s way, as he pulls out his cock hastily.

It’s gonna be a long night.

---

Tony can’t come. It’s been an hour and his cock is purple, drooling and throbbing, with no knot and no release in sight. Every stroke is painful— not to mention the agony of hearing Peter cry just across the clearing.

He’s strong, but he’s not that strong.

The scent of Omega heat reaches him where he kneels in the dirt, and he’s up and moving without a second thought. When Peter sees him— strutting across the forest and over to the cave where Peter has tried to den himself— the Omega sobs, holding out his arms in a silent invitation.

Tony kneels next to him, scenting for hurt and distress on his Omega. He knows it’s his fault Peter is so needy, so drippy and sad, and helps him by petting his hair, shushing him softly. Their skin presses together, and Tony can feel the heat fever already.

“M’sorry ‘mega,” he growls, feeling his rutting fangs extend in preparation. Peter’s eyes are closed and he claws at Tony’s back, singing a chorus of, “Alpha, Alpha, Alpha,” that is making Tony salivate.

He turns Peter around, moving the remains of his shirt and pants to give the Omega some cushioning to rest on as he arches his ass into the air, and leans down to taste. Slick is pouring out of his Omega, ripe and untouched in his arms. He latches his mouth to Peter’s sweet lips and sucks, using both hands to hold his hips in place as he coaxes more and more of Peter onto to his tongue, into his mouth.

Peter is panting and pleading with him for “more, Alpha,” but Tony knows the sweet, virginal Omega has no idea what he’s asking for. He watches Peter’s face for discomfort as he pushes in a finger, groaning as it easily slides up to the second knuckle. Peter drops his chest to the earth and cries out, pushing back into Tony’s hand.

“More, more, more Alpha!” he shouts, tiny cock twitching adorably as his pussy desperately clutches around Tony’s finger, almost as if it’s trying to draw him in further.

With a growl, Tony shoves another finger inside, working Peter’s body with one hand and using his other to stroke himself, coating his cock in wet, Omega slick. He knows the tingling in the back of his head, the rush of aggression and hormones means he’s hitting a rut as well, but none of it matters— not with the world’s prettiest Omega writhing under him and calling him Alpha.

His fingers pull out and bring an obscene amount of slick with them, that Tony immediately uses on his cock, pumping it desperately as he sidles up behind Peter. He crouches behind the Omega, putting his hands on Peter’s waist as the tip of his cock slides in between glistening lips, bumping up against his entrance.

Peter jerks, panting, as he looks up at Tony, “Wh... what is that, Alpha?"

“My cock, ‘mega. M’gonna fill you up, make the hurt go away,” Tony can barely get the words out before he’s sinking in, breathing hard as the Omega’s velvety slick passage is stretched wide around his cock. And he’s tight— oh, fuck, he’s tight. Tony’s never fucked a virgin, never even had an Omega in heat, and he can’t stop the way his hips immediately start to thrust, pistoning in and out of Peter’s trembling body.

“Perfect, fuck Peter— so perfect for me."

Peter whines and clenches down, “So full, Alpha! Please, need more."

That’s all the permission Tony needs to pick up his pace, slamming their hips together brutally as he fucks the Omega into the forest floor. His tony body fits perfectly into Tony’s hands, and Peter keens so beautifully when the Alpha changes angles, driving down mercilessly into his sweet spot.

Peter screams, “That! Right there!” and Tony snarls, giving the needy Omega exactly what he’s asking for. He reaches around, groping at Peter’s slight waist and chest, until he can take two handfuls of soft breast— barely a handful, but still soft and alluring— and pinch down on those pretty nipples, hard.

His Omega shakes apart, wailing, “Alpha, Alpha, oh, oh— I’m gonna, oh!” before painting the ground with his release, milking Tony’s cock as he fucks him through his orgasm relentlessly. The pressure is fucking heaven, and Tony’s thrusts shorten, turning into a shallow grind, as he feels his knot expanding.

Peter’s breathing picks up, little mewling sounds escaping as Tony fucks him with his knot, working past the Omega’s oversensitive entrance with a few filthy circles of his hips.

“S’it bigger? Why’sit bigger?” Peter whines, wiggling in discomfort.

Tony shushes him, falling to his knees as the knot finally slips in with a pop, releasing load after load of Alpha cum deep into his belly. “F-fuck, Pete. Just... oh, baby just breathe, okay?” he tries soothing Peter as the smaller boy starts to whimper— loose and boneless on the ground.

It’s difficult, but Tony manages to get them situated on their sides, pulling over a bedroll to keep his perfect Omega off the dirt and earth. He wraps Peter up in his arms. He buries his nose in Peter’s curl, damp with sweat, and breathes deep.

“T-tony?” Peter turns back to look at him, precious tears clinging to his eyelashes, “What happened... to your... your...” he squeezes down on Tony’s knot purposefully, and then blushes, hiding is face in embarrassment.

This Omega is too much, Tony thinks as he groans— another wave of pleasure rolling through him, pumping more and more cum into the sweet, pure boy in his arms. “God, Pete— you’re gonna kill me. It’s... it’s my knot, sweetheart. Keeps us locked for a bit,” at Peter’s sad whine, Tony hums and pets his side soothingly, “but— with your heat, I bet I can make you come on it again."

“C-come on it?” Peter whispers, sounding overwhelmed and terrified, and Tony recoils a bit when his sugary-sweet scent turns bitter, distressed.

Oh god, “No, no baby, just rest, okay? I’ll take care of you. I promised, remember?"

Peter’s body relaxes and curls back into Tony’s arms, sighing gently, “I do. Thank you, Alpha. And then... and then we can go see the lights?"

Tony chuckles, already reaching a hand around to work Peter’s sweet little Omega cock back to hardness.

Oh, they’ll be seeing the lights alright.

#starker #ironspider #tangled crossover #omegaverse #sex pollen #fuck or die trope #dub/con #sorry if this ruined tangled for you #sfsummerbingo21 #starkerfestivalsevents #omega!peter #alpha!tony #it’s long and i have no regrets #poor peter is so confused by the sexy times #god i love this trope

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pen-observing · 3 years

Text

request: baker mc with barbatos. + how you came to know and bicker with the man that looks like love.

MASTERLIST

People find joy in doing the things that they love and, right now, your joy is waking up earlier to see the sun’s rays against the counter of the bakery. They’re so beautiful to bask in and so rewarding once you remember all that it took just to be able to come into such a place. It takes real work.

However, the sun’s rays on this particular morning touch something else. They shine upon a sleek black envelope that was placed right in the middle of your counter.

How did it get here? You’ve always locked your door out of responsibility. Surely nobody managed to break in or something similar? Everything looks in order and nothing is stolen. With this, there is simply no reason for you not to open the little ‘gift’ that was there. Right?

Being a famous baker meant that sometimes you did receive letters but never in such a manner or such a style. They were usually in pastel envelopes; written by little kids with lots of doodles, sprayed with some overwhelming floral scent. And, they were charming indeed but this was allure inside of mystery.

You sit down at the table close to the window and open the envelope carefully. Sometimes you think that anyone who works in your business and actually manages to succeed has to have some childlike innocence. When kids are the only ones writing you such letters it makes sense.

You lay the delicate piece of paper and start to read.

Allow this letter not to alarm you in the slightest. I have come to notice some others on your counter a few days ago and deemed this to be the best way to approach you with an inquiry. Please, read it completely before you make your final judgement. Do you happen to believe in the afterlife? Do you happen to be religious yourself? Even if the answer to these two questions is a resounding no (which I have no way of knowing, I assure you) - please consider this offer. You have been chosen as someone who can help create a bigger order amongst the three realms. We, my young Master in particular, believes in the power that can bring about a more harmonious coexistence. We have already had humans come to our domain but expansions have started because of that previous success. I hope this manages to assuage your initial feelings and any possible fear you might have. We are demons, I must say. I believe there is no use in lying or manipulating you because we are approaching you with a noble idea and goal that you can help come to fruition. We are inviting humans that are experts in their fields to teach us even more and you have been chosen as one of them. If you hold any interest, please proceed to sign your name at the bottom right of this paper. If, however, you are not interested or are afraid – please place it back inside the envelope and it will automatically become ash. Discard it carefully. I urge you not to get hurt.

Now you wish that this letter was full of doodles with a cupcake in the middle of the sun. Who was pulling such a prank? Was this a lousy attempt of the baker 2 streets down to intimidate you for the upcoming cake contest? You have to give him credit for his imagination at least.

Who does he think he is to challenge you? Did he assume you would be afraid? Perhaps, you always were a bit too spiteful for your own good. And with that spite growing – you signed your name at the bottom right.

No need for fire and ash. No need to be scared of anything that this foolish letter stated. Right?

“I would like to extend my outmost thanks for signing the letter.”

What? What was that voice? Fucking hell, how big is the joke the other baker is playing? You will be sure to leave him a 2 star review because only his cookies were decent but all you can do right now is turn around to the direction of the deep voice.

10 steps behind you, and next to your entrance door, stands a man that reminds you of the moon. He has perfect posture and an overwhelming presence. He holds a hand over his chest and looks at you with eyes that cause reminiscence – you always wanted to get lost in such a magical sea.

He is smiling at you but once he notices the shocked expression, he stops and raises one eyebrow. You’re both quiet. Well, this certainly is not that annoying baker. So, maybe, perhaps, possibly, in some way: the letter was not a joke?

“Please don’t tell me you did the same impulsive thing as the human that is a writer. Did you, by any chance, sign this letter thinking it was a joke?”

Obviously, you fucking did. I mean come on?? Three realms?? Demons?? Who would believe such a thing? Really, your spite got the best of you.

“You are not answering and I suppose that much is an answer in itself. Before you express a desire to cancel it out, I have to let you know; that is a legally binding contract and if you try to break it the punishment will be severe. When I say legally binding, I mean by the laws of hell itself. But, do not be alarmed. Please.”

The personification of the moon asks if sitting at the table would be okay and begins to explain to you all of the things in detail. He does it with clear words and you can’t help but believe that this idea seems promising. And this man, while cold and collected, does not seem like a threat.

Truthfully, you have achieved such a big success already. Baking is art and as an artist it was always the main goal. Learn more. Consider yourself a student as long as you live. Be sure to take any opportunity because it means growth. After all, you’ve gotten this far using those ideals. Wouldn’t it be a shame to throw them away now?

“And rest assured. You will be completely safe in the Devildom. I have been personally tasked with assuring your safety.”

You’ve come to learn that his name was Barbatos – meaning philosopher in some old book you’ve read. It is so odd that someone new seems so dependable. Because of this you ask him the question any sane person would.

“Would you like a cupcake?”

Yes, that indeed is the question any sane person would ask in your field. You already know there is no way to back out of this; not unless you wish to endanger your life. So, why not start an adventure if you already must?

You give Barbatos a cupcake and turn the sign to closed before going back behind the counter. The sign won’t change in the following year until you are free from the damned contract. You get overwhelmed with the realization that the sun’s rays will seep in but have nobody to actually greet once you leave. You realize how much you are going to miss this place. How are you supposed to leave it behind just like that?

You touch your pocket and take out your phone. If you must leave and abandon this, then so be it – but you will have some tangible memories of your dedication. You need to have some tangible memories of this glowing morning.

You start to take photos. Of what? The bowl of small chocolates that people can grab on the way out and bring to others that they love. The door decorated with flowers. The very counter you stand behind and the rays of light that are on it. The seating arrangement, the wall with your achievements, clippings from magazines, newspapers and reviews. Yes, you even take a photo of the child’s drawings with a cupcake inside of the sun. How ridiculous. And, oh, how much you’re going to miss this.

The very last photo you take is of Barbatos. He is sitting at the table, looking outside the window. Maybe you shouldn’t but – he looks like he belongs here for whatever reason. And, deep down, you wish to remember him like this. Inside of a peaceful moment. You press the click and he turns around. He doesn’t say anything – he offers a slight smile. In that moment you freeze and realize that in his peaceful moment the smile reminds you of childlike love.

Perhaps the following year will not be so bad after all.

“They call you the best in all of the three realms?” “Indeed.” “You put lemon-honey- syrup in your baklava. I refuse to believe you deserve it.”

Just because he reminds you of the moon and the deep waters; just because he gives you peace – it does not mean that professionally you will allow yourself to be inferior to him. Finding comfort with slight bickering became your idea of heaven and light in this place of darkness and hell-fire.

#obey me #obey me shall we date #barbatos #om! barbatos #barbatos x reader #barbatos x mc #obey me imagines #obey me fic #obey me barbatos #crack #kinda #fluff #also kinda #obey me headcanons #this started out as headcanons but i turned it into a fic cus #ya its barbatos come on #yall i cant cook or bake like i had no other way for this idea #should i write all my fics without caps letters it looks so pretty i know thats a trend #but like im an english major BIG AND SMALL LETTERS ARE IMPORTANT TO ME

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