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chickenparm · 2 years

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Where You Willed the Moon - Pt. One

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Scaramouche/f!Reader (reader is the traveler, but not lumine) 10,756 Words - NSFW Unhealthy Codependence, Enemies to Lovers, P in V, f!Receiving Oral, Thigh Riding, Mentions of m!Losing Virginity, Pining, Bullshit Sereniteapot Magic, sub-ish Scara when it counts :^)

Spoilers for the Sumeru story, and spoilers for 3.2 based off leaks.

(written pre-3.2)

---

The sound of metal hitting the floor is eerily similar to the tolling of bells over Monstadt. Ones that call the populace to the cathedral - those who practice, that is. While you hadn’t been much to worship Barbatos after puzzling out Venti and his identity, it’s a different sort of church that you kneel at now.

One made of crumbling metal and stray static, enough to set the hair on your arms on edge. Your fingertips touch the metal floor and with it comes the zapping of loose electro. You’re far enough away from the residual pools of water and towering cryo structures that you can almost forget what’s brought you here.

The ignorance is shattered in seconds by the sound of a choking sob, one ripped through teeth in a fit of fury and heartbreak.

“Not like this… not like this…!”

Your knees scrape against the floor painfully, though it’s miniscule compared to the pains you feel elsewhere in the aftermath of this worship. You’re wholly unconvinced that this is the sort of prayer that he’d been hoping for. Wishing for.

Demanding of you as metal arms towered over you in a threat of total annihilation if you simply didn’t concede.

The helmet of the metal monstrosity lays in jagged ruins at the center of the room, an altar for you to prostrate in front of if you hadn’t emerged the victor. Your fingers curl over the side as you crawl through the wreckage, hauling yourself up and over the lip to fall next to the prone figure inside.

Your own body gives out as you collapse on your side, facing Scaramouche’s broken expression as his limbs lay dormant, body spent after expending the entirety of his less than holy divinity in the battle he’d lost. All you can hear is the sound of his heart breaking and his nails digging into the steel and metal that encases the two of you now.

For a brief moment, as you slide down into the cradle and land so, so close to him, you’re taken aback by the sight of him curled on his side. Like a bug almost, squashed without a care. Without a thought. But you’ve thought about him far too often for this battle to have been meaningless. As meaningless as a simple showdown between some generic good versus generic evil could be, you suppose.

For a moment, it seems as if the world no longer exists. The structure rises and curves inward enough that only an oval of ceiling is visible. There are cracks far, far above from the stress of your clash. One hand clutches over his chest, cradling the place over his heart if not for the way his knuckles and tendons strain at his skin with the force of it. The arm attached to the shoulder he’s laying on is stretched out as if to reach toward you.

His words speak the opposite, all but screamed as his teeth gnash with every syllable. “Get away from me, you… you worthless-… GET AWAY-”

“Stop that.”

Your response isn’t elegant. It isn’t the proper way to speak to a God, especially not one that had held himself so highly above others that he never saw the one coming from below to strike him down. Now you’re on equal levels, cocooned in metal and darkness as static spits back and forth.

“It’s done.”

“Not like this.” His voice wavers as he repeats himself. Then once more, even weaker, “...not… like this.”

“That’s enough, Scara-”

“I’ll say when it’s enough! Get up and face me!”

It would be far more convincing if you weren’t staring at his visage, watching as a thick stream of tears travel across the bridge of his nose, into his temple, and soaking the indigo hair that’s dampened with blood from a gash across his hairline. With a weak hand, you absently reach forward to push the hair from his forehead and judge that the wound isn’t so deep.

If his hair weren’t matted with sweat and tears and his absurdly dark lifeblood, you’re certain it would feel like silk against your fingertips. You rub a lock between them anyway, just for the sake of touching him in a way that isn’t outwardly malicious.

His head jerks back, the hair slipping from your fingers as he does so, and you’re greeted with an expression of pure loathing. It’s disgust that colors him as his lip curls and he sneers at your audacity. At what in particular is unclear. Certainly you’ve done a lot today to earn his ire; tenderness may just be the most heinous of all your transgressions.

But he can’t fight you anymore. Not while he’s so exhausted that he can barely shift his head. You’re certain he’s only awake now out of an endless well of spite and rage, borne of a lifetime threaded with consistent disappointment and betrayal. You’d seen his memories, you’d witnessed the wrongs committed against him. One after another, interspersed with moments in-between that showed you who he might have been had things just been different.

At the time, you’d carefully schooled your features in fury against him. But on the inside, you nurtured a twisted sort of understanding. You’d be just like him, if things had gone differently. Your powers stripped away, your only family is far beyond your reach, and somewhere out there is a goddess that wronged you in so many ways.

It’s this kinship that leads you to reach for him once more, dirty fingers dragging against a cheek that you’d thought was made of porcelain at one point. No being has the divine right to be crafted so beautifully, especially not one made of flesh. Yet here he lays, sucking a startled breath through his grit teeth as you sweep away tears and blood.

“It’s alright now.” The words crack around the thickness in your throat, brought on by exhaustion and your own welling emotions. “We’re done.”

“We? We’re nothing.” It’s a snake’s hiss, but the fangs are long gone. “All of this is nothing. All my work, everything I’ve done…”

“That’s not fair to yourself to discount everything. I always thought you were the kind of person to turn a blind eye to your failure-”

A bitter laugh leaves him, the smile that accompanies it is ugly and twisted, filled with the tang of bitterness far worse than one should have from a simple defeat. The world is silent. The electro has sputtered out, the groaning of metal settling has finished, and all you’re left with is your own heart pounding in your ears and the ragged sounds of Scaramouche’s frantic breathing.

Off in the distance, one of the pillars of cryo cracks and groans, the residual heat in the room from Scaramouche’s errant use of pyro created an environment unfitting for ice. It will take time for them to truly melt on their own, but they protest under the pressure nonetheless. In the remains of the metal body, it’s almost frigid.

“You’ve seen it. I know you have. If it wasn’t leading to this moment, to my victory… then what was the purpose of it all? Why would the gods have deemed it right to leave me broken three times?”

Four, actually, if you’re to count this time. You decide not to.

His real name settles at the tip of your tongue as you fight the instinct to call him such. It’s found a home in your mind since you’d suffered his memories, warping your perception of him from one of distaste to empathy. Like it or not, you understand him now. Perhaps more than anyone else could.

Another shaking breath fills his lungs, and for a moment he holds it as if he’s not quite ready to let go. Then, all at once as if he’d been punched, it leaves him in a harsh sob that turns the twisted expression he wears into something far more heart wrenching. Rage and fury is gone, and to take its place is despondency so deep it takes your breath away.

And with that cry comes another, wetly forced from the back of his tongue as it catches on phlegm and his own spittle. Just before his eyes clench shut, Scaramouche looks at you with a gaze that suddenly seems far younger than it had moments ago. Hopelessness, pain, fear. You recognized it painfully from the moment he’d entered the hut and witnessed the beginning of his third betrayal.

“If it was all for nothing, what do I have to continue on for? If you have even a shred of mercy in your body left for me, then end it now.”

Instantly, before you can consider the ramifications of his request, you deny it. “No.”

“Then you’re far more cruel than I ever gave you credit for.” From the first syllable, his voice cracks until he’s left whispering the words. Resignation is a poor fit on him. You’re unwilling to let him continue to hold it close to himself.

Shuffling closer, until you’re nearly nose-to-nose with him,you feel the absence of his body heat that would surely be there with a human. Your fingers glide from his cheek to his hair once more, pushing it all from his forehead once, then twice, over and over in a soothing motion that he visibly melts into. Not so long ago - seconds, really - he would have fought against this. Now, he leans into your touch as if it’s the only thing keeping him pieced together.

“Scaramouche.”

His body stills, but he refuses to open his eyes to acknowledge you. While he claims you’re merciless, you have enough kindness to give him a few moments longer of your comfort before you try again. “Kunikuzushi.”

“...Hm?”

“Would you like to try again?”

“No, I’m not sure I’d be able to put up as much of a fight the second time.”

“That’s not what I meant.” You can’t help the curl of your smallest smile as you lean close enough for your forehead to press firmly against his own. It’s clammy and sticky with his blood, nearly cementing the two of you together as one. That wouldn’t be so bad, you think.

“If I took you away from here, would you trust me not to betray you?”

The answer doesn’t come. Only the steady press of his skull against your own, harder and harder until it just toes the line of beginning to hurt.

Only then does he shakily breathe out, “No.”

With a bitter smile of your own, you push yourself onto your hands, then your knees to pull him into your lap. Blood rushes in your ears at the shift in position, and your wooziness lasts for only a moment before you’re back in control. When your vision clears, you realize rather quickly that your fingers clutch to him a little too hard - he never even flinched.

Trust or not, you’ll take him anyway.

—

Explaining the destruction of Scaramouche is easier. Convincing everyone of your honesty is even moreso.

Why would you lie? Scaramouche was your enemy, the mastermind behind everything that’s happened in Sumeru. The samsara, the expedited withering of Irminsul, the foul actions of the Akademiya… All of it would be attributed to Scaramouche, if the presence of Dottore hadn’t been confirmed by multiple witnesses.

With one harbinger dead and the other having taken flight with the Dendro Archon’s gnosis, the only enemy that remains is one consisting of the sages that had knowingly assisted in the Fatui’s deeds. There are no monsters to fight, no evil to thwart in martial combat, and thus you state your intentions to take some time to rest.

At first, it made you nauseous. Being pulled through time and space is unpleasant to the uninitiated, but multiple trips for both yourself and the adepti have left you more than experienced in managing the sensations.

All you see are stars. Streaking past you in a blinding array that leaves you breathless every time you witness it. Your little pocket dimension is somewhere unknown within the fabric of reality, yet you can almost recognise the patterns that shoot past you so quickly they’re gone in the blink of an eye.

Aether may feel like home, but your feet hitting the cobblestones of your teapot home is a close second.

While there are storage buildings scattered across your land, only one truly dominates the skyline with its shimmering tiles and sturdy dark wood. A wall surrounds it, but it’s purely for aesthetic reasons - who could invade you here, when permission is required to enter? Brute force would never succeed.

It’s instinct to call on Tubby to tell you of happenings in your absence, yet this time you refrain. There is another here, and while you’re unsure of the exact amount of time that’s passed between this realm and reality, you’re almost certain he’s exactly where you left him. The door to your home groans open - the only sound that interrupts the careful silence.

In the entryway, you kick your shoes off to avoid damaging the tatami, and make your way to the second floor. The stairs barely shift under your weight thanks to Tubby’s meticulous upkeep, meaning your presence will go unnoticed if he happens to be on edge.

But your subterfuge is entirely for naught. As you slide the door open and step into what you’ve claimed as your bedroom, you take in the sight of Scaramouche still unconscious in your bed, even as the sun shafts illuminate the high cheekbones and furrowed brows of his face.

With little more than a thought, the sun shifts across the sky until it sits low on the painted horizon, just above the stylized waves that surround your home. The light no longer beats against his face, instead casting the room in a warm glow that almost makes the air feel thick. In the distance, you hear those very waves as you nudge one of the windows open to allow a breeze to shift through.

At first, you’d expected to need to provide medical aid. You’d been prepared to fight him on it, up until he passed out in your arms before you brought him here. Tubby had done most of the work - bringing him from the threshold of your home, cleaning most of the blood off, changing him into something that didn’t smell of smoke and ash and whatever remained of his dreams of grandeur.

Without the trappings of his harbinger uniform, Scaramouche looked far less menacing in shades of azure and green. It stood in contrast to his hair that was still matted - Tubby couldn’t do everything without thumbs, you supposed.

Hunger claws at your naval, but you’re far more preoccupied with sitting halfway at his side and picking through the mess of his hair with a fine-toothed comb. It doesn’t take at long as you thought it would, and isn’t nearly a long enough excuse for you to be in his space like this.

The implications of your need to be here make your skin crawl. You retract your hands so quickly that the comb clatters to the floor with the sound of wood on wood. Scaramouche doesn’t stir, at least to your knowledge, and you take the time to rise from the bed and reach for the abandoned object.

A vice clamps around your wrist, holding you in place with a grip tight enough that it’s certain to bruise. It takes all your strength to rip your arm away and stand from the bed. Scaramouche looks at you with half-lidded eyes and a haziness to his gaze. A thud follows his hand hitting the bed once you’re bereft of him.

A long breath leaves him at first, as if he’s testing his lungs and reassuring himself that they’re still functional. After a swallow that reaches your ears with its sound, Scaramouche tries again to reach for you. All that leaves his mouth is, “Don’t leave.”

And against all your instinct to leave, your desire to stay wins. The bed dips as you sit at his side once more, a careful distance away with your hands in your lap. The lacing of your fingers is so tight that your knuckles are as pale as bone with the pressure.

Scaramouche doesn’t look away, even as his gaze grows hazy with its focus. It’s not clear he understands who you are as one of his hands reach out and tangle in the fabric of the clothes across your back. “You left before.”

“I had to make sure no one was going to question anything.”

Pale lips quirk into the smallest smile, just for a single second. It leaves as soon as it comes, the quickness in stark contrast to the slow way he blinks up at you - weariness incarnate, it seems. “I woke up and all that was here was your… little bird.”

“Tubby. That’s it’s name.”

“It’s a stupid name.”

Scaramouche is feeling better, it seems. The lacerations he once sported have knit themselves shut, the bruises have turned from fresh red and blue to a sickly green akin to the sky before a storm at sundown. Your skin beneath his grasp is alight with far too many sensations, goosebumps traveling along your arms.

Scaramouche zeroes in on them, and there’s that twisted little smirk again that stays far longer. Blessedly, he doesn’t say a thing about them. Perhaps he can be a benevolent god, when he wants to be.

“I need to go for a little longer-”

“I said stay.”

“I need to eat, Scaramouche.”

The name makes him flinch, his hand falling to the bed and leaving you bereft of his grip. A yearning little part of you misses it fiercely. Fear isn’t the right word when you pinpoint how wrong it is for you to have become attached like this, yet after having learned so much of his life in the span of moments, you feel an involuntary kinship that colors all your thoughts of him.

His reaction to the name isn’t explained. While most of him is tucked beneath the blankets of your bed, the hand that had been touching you lays above them with his palm to the sky and his fingers clenched into a loose fist. They only clench tighter as he pointedly looks up at the rafters and says, “Don’t come back, then.”

That strikes at you. His petulance is completely unwarranted, and you’re helpless to your own urge to plant your hands on your hips and call him out on it. “Make up your mind. Do you want me to stay, or do you want me to leave you alone? I’m going to have Tubby make up a second bedroom. Then you can hide out in there if you want to be a child.”

“I’m not-” With one movement, Scaramouche pushes himself up on a hand to sit up. His elbow shakes with the effort, clearly not up to the task of moving so quickly just yet. A sick sense of pride shoots through you with how solidly you’ve beaten him. Through grit teeth, he continues, “You’re the one coming and going as you please.”

“What’s gotten into you?”

Scaramouche flinches at your hiss, avoiding you all over again, judging by the stubborn set of his brow. Just like him, you’re exhausted, and you don’t have the time nor energy to entertain his whims right now. With purpose, you turn your head and call for your teapot spirit. In a dusting of tiny fireworks and drifting petals, Tubby appears and opens their beak to begin bombarding you with everything they’ve been waiting to say.

And you’ll give them that when you have time, but for now you hold a finger to your lips and they get the hint. Folding the sleeves of their robes together, Tubby listens as you ask, “Can you bring me something to eat? It doesn’t matter what, don’t trouble yourself too much.”

“Of course! Give me a little time, and I’ll have something splendid for you!”

Your request to not go out of their way is entirely lost to the empty spaces in the room as they disappear. Blowing out a long sigh that feels too much like resignation, you carefully sit on the side of Scaramouche’s bed, your back turned to him and your hands on your knees to brace yourself. When Tubby comes back, you’ll get them working on that second room.

In the meantime, the hand along your spine returns, this time splayed out with a palm pressing firmly against you. It’s a simple touch, one that you close your eyes and relish now that he can’t quite see your face. The expectant moment lingers with a quiet anticipation before Scaramouche breaks it without remorse.

“Why did you do it?”

“Bring you here?” Shuffling behind you, and you assume it’s a nod. “Would you believe me if I said I empathize with you?”

“One little peek at my memories, and we’re suddenly friends now? You feel sorry for me?”

“Is that so bad?” Your head turns so you can look at him out of the corner of your eye. Though he’d been quiet and restrained, it’s clear that there’s fury bubbling beneath the surface that you now must quell. “I think we’re more alike than you realize. Yes, I felt sorry because you never deserved any of that, even after all the problems you’ve caused as a result.”

“I’m not some good guy under all this, you know. I’m not putting on some front to trick you - this is who I am.”

Behind your eyelids, you see him in white, curled in the cavernous wooden halls of his domain and clutching himself in the mockery of a hug. Tears run down his cheeks, one after another, in a constant stream of loneliness and despondency. Perhaps that isn’t him anymore, but neither is this tyrant that’s bent on the divinity he was meant to receive.

“It’s not. We change through our lives, but I don’t think even you know who you are now.”

“I still don’t trust you.” It’s said as a barb, a last ditch effort to snipe at you when he’s at a loss for words. That’s all you need to confirm that you’re right - Scaramouche is lost and adrift all over again. Eccentric wanderer from Inazuma indeed.

Tubby returns with your food - a simple fare of cheeses and meats that you consume quickly. Scaramouche doesn’t partake as he stubbornly turns on his side and turns his back to you. Whether it’s in derision for your offer, or he’s still petulant that you backed him into a corner, you’re unsure. Either way, you expect this to be an uncomfortable affair.

When there are only crumbs left on the plate that Tubby brought, you chew the inside of your cheek to stifle a yawn. While there isn’t another bed, you’re certain you can find a futon in one of the storage houses that dot your little estate. It’ll do for now if you toss it in the other room with tatami flooring.

Rising to your feet, you stretch your hands to the rafter as if to grasp them, working at the hunched muscles you’d been nursing for a little too long now. The blood rushing in your ears nearly drowns out Scaramouche’s question. “Where are you going? I told you to stay.”

“You also told me to leave, so which is it? I need to get some rest.”

“...Stay.”

Great, that solves that, but you still need to find somewhere to rest. As if he read your mind and pinpointed the exact thing you’d cave to, Scaramouche blindly reaches behind him and flips the blanket back. It’s an open invitation that your hands are tied about - obviously he expected you to take it.

With not nearly as much hesitance as you expected, you blow air from your cheeks and turn to your dressing screen to change. If he insists… then who are you to deny him? Ditching your adventuring clothes is an affair that’s far quicker than you’ve ever done before, and even as you return to him in only a few minutes, he’s still waiting expectantly. This time on his back, one hand across his heart as the other picks through his hair while noting the tidiness of the strands despite the remnants of your battle clinging to them.

Scaramouche doesn’t say anything about it, and neither will you.

The bed dips as you slide in, keeping a careful distance between yourselves as you mirror his position on your back. The bed normally smells like you, but now it carries some odd mixture of yourself and the male besides you. You’re not quite sure if you like it or not.

“Are you a vampire? A mummy, perhaps?”

“What?”

“I only ask because sleeping like that only comes from being a stiff, undead creature.”

Rolling your head to the side to look at him, you realize you hate Scaramouche’s attempts at humor. There’s no smile on his face, but the tension at the corner of his eyes has melted away, leaving something serene and… nearly happy in its absence.

Scowling with indignance, you roll on your side until you’re facing him and fix him with that expression unimpeded. It does nothing to bother him, and you’re startled by a laugh. High pitched and breathy as he takes in your irritated compliance. “Is that so bad? Alright then, go to sleep.”

“You first. I need to make sure you’re not going to strangle me.”

“I could just be pretending. Then the moment you start to dream, I’ll wrap my hands around your pretty throat and squeeze until you’re blue.”

“Not if I break out of your hold and strangle you first. I bet you turn an ugly shade of red while you’re wheezing.”

There’s that laughter again, high and manic as he gives you a twisted little grin. There’s no humor in it, only a pleased sort of madness as he meets you blow-for-blow. “I bet you’d beg. ‘Please, Scaramouche-’”

“Maybe I’ll let you start the suffocation early so I die faster and don’t have to listen to your sad attempts at humor.”

Scaramouche turns until he’s facing you, mirroring your own position as his hands fall in the space between your bodies. You can’t help but let your eyes turn to them, taking note of long, thin fingers whose nail beds are still caked with blood that Tubby couldn’t quite get to. As he notices your gaze, his fingers twitch before they spread open, wiggling pointedly as if to demand something of you.

All you have to offer is your own hand, but it seems as if that’s what he wanted all along. His palms are cold, just as the rest of him is, but he seems to relish in the warmth you hold in turn with how he lets out a nearly inaudible, shuddering sigh.

“I won’t strangle you. I’ve decided to keep you.”

“You’re the one in my home.”

He has nothing to say to that. Instead, he squeezes your fingers together with his own and lets his eyelids droop - an acquiescence of a stalemate between the two of you and the mocking attempts at one another’s life. When indigo lashes brush the top of his cheeks and a long sigh leaves his nose, he finally speaks to you.

“I still don’t trust you.” But I’ll try.

The implication isn’t lost on you, as much as you’d like to disbelieve it. This moment is proof of him giving in, even if it’s only a few scant centimeters. The end result is unclear, but you’re content with chipping away toward it for as long as he’ll let you.

—

“How you ever managed to be such a thorn in my side is beyond me.”

Cracking an eye open, you look up at Scaramouche as he looms over you, blocking out the sun that’s been hanging high in the sky for far too long. He’s like an eclipse, and the rays bloom from behind his head like a halo. You wonder if he’s aware of himself, or if it’s unknown to him the exact amount of natural transcendence he carries like a second skin.

On its own accord, your mouth opens to ask just that, yet he cuts you off by planting his hands on his knees to bend down closer. The trailing sleeves of his haori brush at the grass near your ears, caging you in and tunneling your vision toward the one thing you haven’t been able to look away from. There’s no need to draw your attention when his gravity is inescapable.

“How many times have I agonized over your meddling in Sumeru, and you were laying in the grass somewhere just like this?”

More than you’d like to admit, probably. At least while you were in the forested lands. In the desert, you were all business as Cyno nearly dragged you by the ankle through the dunes. No time to waste, he’d said. You couldn’t agree more as that unforgiving sun beamed down at you like it had a personal vendetta against your survival.

At your lack of verbal answer - because physically you were blinking slowly up at him with a crooked smile that spoke volumes - Scaramouche grimaced and sank until he was seated just above your head. If you shifted a bit, your head would be cradled in his crossed legs.

Would he push you away, or pull you in? His preference on your proximity seemed to wax and wane at unpredictable intervals. Some days he was your shadow, just in the corner of your eye as you went about your morning exercises, caught up on some reading, satisfied your need to simply exist for a while without pressing issues at hand.

And some days you wouldn’t see him until the false evening where your energy would wind down and you’d share a bed with him far more comfortably than you’d expect. You always woke first, and you’d always find him wrapped around you in one way or another, hair brushed into his face and moving gently with his exhales.

It’s in these moments where you’d watch him - both in the sleepy hours of the morning and times like right now - that you can’t help the whirling of your thoughts down avenues they shouldn’t be veering toward. There are dark corners that beckon you closer, promising things that should never come to fruition.

But the promises were beautiful. Soft veneer that belied the sharpness that’s sure to cut you to the bone if you let it. But you’ve been through worse things unwillingly - what’s a little willing self-inflicted pain when the payoff would be so sweet?

Those alleyways are left behind in favor of tilting your head to smile at his upside-down figure. This could be enough. You’re not even sure there's a true possibility for more, yet you dream of it nonetheless. Shameful isn’t enough to describe it.

“Where have you been?”

It’s an innocent question. It’s all you can muster, as every other topic you’d like to broach comes with the implication of heaviness. Scaramouche will bring his thoughts to you at his own pace - you’d tried to rush him only once, and he’d shut you down so quickly with a sneer and barbed words. It wasn’t worth the grief to hurry him along.

So you keep it simple, and if he appreciates it or not, you’d never know. But it earns an answer anyway. “I got restless. I looked at the rest of your domain. It’s rather bare. Do you not have the means to fix that?”

If anyone else asked, you would’ve laughed it off. But Scaramouche says it with a little too harsh of a tone, and it makes your cheeks warm as you hurry to defend yourself. “Why would I need to do that? All I need is right here.”

Maybe there’s a little implication there. You hoped for him to pick up on it, and the subtle pink of his cheekbones beginning to flush is the sign showing you that he had. Pointedly, he lifts his chin and turns his gaze forward, setting you free from the snare of his gaze. It’s like cresting from beneath water as the pressure lifts and you’re left reeling from the aftermath of such visual entrapment.

With a quiet sigh from his nose, his entire posture nearly melts. His back hunches, his elbows find his knees to rest on, his hands are tantalizingly close enough for you to want to reach for. Impulse control had never been your strong suit on the best of days.

While today was pretty good, you were powerless to reach for one of those slender hands and bring it above your face, watching as his fingers splay of their own accord. You’re treated to the sight of slim fingers that obediently follow where you place them as you push and pull, pressing your thumb into his palm to cup his hand before urging him to flatten it out again.

All at once, his hand comes down on your face - without force, but the grip he has is enough to startle you into kicking your legs out and scrambling to pull him off. Stubbornly, he refuses to let you go, his voice tinged with a tone that’s awfully close to a certain kitsune you know. “You wanted to see my hand? Then look at it.”

—

The veranda that surrounds your stone garden is a point of interest to him, considering you find him there at all hours with his feet over the edge while he draws shapes in the sand that would soon revert back to its normal state. And in his lap he holds a number of things - scrolls and books you’ve collected on your journeys, trinkets he’s found in your home, an Anemo vision.

The latter startles you the most. It’s in the Inazuman style, but the glittering green of the gemstone is telling. Venti knows. He must, if it’s to be believed that bestowment of visions is an extension of an Archon’s will.

Settling beside him with a grunt, you look at the metal he turns over and over in his hand. From what you understand, receiving a vision is meant to be a happy affair, one that comes with the realization of one’s dreams and ambitions. Yet Scaramouche has been quiet during his stay here, barely antagonizing you in favor of sitting in this very spot and contemplating everything and nothing at all.

“Have you made up your mind, Scaramouche?”

Instead of stringing you along and causing you grief, Scaramouche instead clutches the metal in his hand until you’re certain the edges dig into his skin painfully. “You know my name. Use it.”

It flows off your tongue like it’s been waiting for you to speak it. “Kunikuzushi.”

It sounds like a song, despite its inherent meaning. Whether he chose it for himself, or it was given to him by the Shogun, you’re unsure. The tension in his shoulders drops, and you’re left with a former Fatui harbinger that’s hunched in on himself, looking smaller than ever. The Anemo vision pulses in his palm.

“I have something to ask of you.”

Not demand, not even request. Kunikuzushi implies that you can simply say no, if you want. It’s haunting to know that you’re not convinced you could deny him something if he asked it earnestly enough - as he’s doing now with subtly pleading eyes and hands that shake around his newfound vision.

Against your best interests, you answer, “Anything you want.”

“Don’t say that.” It’s sharper, said as a warning before he softens again into vulnerability. “You were right. I don’t know who I am now. I’m… angry. There’s so much of it that I easily let it fill every part of me until there was no room for anything else.”

Despite opening your mouth, you think better of it and say nothing. He doesn’t seem to mind that you’ve foregone a response, and continues on, “It’s still there. Maybe it always will be. Maybe it’s a byproduct of how I was created. She held no regard for emotions, and seeing them in me turned her away.”

You’re well aware. Painfully aware. In your dreams you see snippets of his life you witnessed, and they hover over you like a nightmare that you can’t shake.

The Anemo vision is no longer strangled, instead it’s cupped in his hands as if he’s cradling something precious. In a way, he is - that vision is the manifestation of the ambitions he’s come to a decision on.

“No matter how someone attempts to be perceived, everyone has emotions. Me, you, the Shogun. I’m sure every god up in Celestia is unable to hold themselves above that standard. It’s not a human thing, it’s a curse that everything with sentience is given.”

For the first time since you woke up in that bed and found him clutching your hand with both of his own, gripping you like a lifeline, you reach out with your own hand to lay on the back of his shoulder. Your fingertips brush the ends of his hair, the softness tickling across your skin in a way that you’ve quietly missed.

“So yeah, there will always be anger. There are also a million other emotions too - you can’t get rid of them all. You can let one take over, but in the end you’re still feeling. You’re still angry. You’re still hurt.”

The last word hits him so hard he flinches, eyes clenching shut briefly before opening with slow blinks. Realization is clear on his face as he turns to look at you, something new in his eyes that you haven’t seen before.

You’re barely given time to decipher it before his tongue darts out to wet his lips and he finally asks of you, “I’ve been selfish for my whole life. Hundreds of years, the only thing I’ve cared about is me. Without the anger I’m empty, and without the selfishness I feel like a stranger to myself. The thing I want to ask is that you let me stay by your side. There’s clarity here, and I know it will be lost the moment I’m alone again.”

“You won’t be.” On reflex you answer, and you’re certain it’s the correct one. You’d never be able to doubt your decision when it comes to him. “Learn to trust me, I won’t willingly let you down.”

And the smile you receive with your acceptance can only be described as radiant, even as it barely curves on his lips. It’s genuine, nothing like the mocking ones you’ve seen before. You have a need to reach out and sweep across it with your thumb, committing the shape to memory, yet you hold yourself back for good reasons.

He doesn’t trust you, but he’s trying.

—

Scaramouche - Kunikuzushi, you remind yourself - doesn’t smile often. At least, not in any capacity that isn’t malicious or antagonistic. There’s very little joy to be had on his end, you realize. It’s a task you’ve unwittingly taken on to at least bring him some iota of happiness. You just want to see that smile he’d given you on the veranda once more.

And despite your efforts - needling him for his favorite food until he relents, offering to spar and being shot down, showing him how the spincrystals work - none of them ever make a dent in his perpetual melancholy. That is, until you catch him going through one of the storage buildings where you keep miscellaneous items used for ascension.

There’s a look on his face that has nothing to do with the fact that he’s been caught, and everything to do with the purple and blue shard cluster in his hands. It glimmers in the low light, but not nearly as bright as the look of glee on his face. “Is this what I think it is?”

“Oh, I knocked that off Childe a while back when we were fighting. I keep it to lord over him when he gets too cocky.”

“‘Gets’? As in, continued interaction?”

Jealousy is painfully easy for you to spot, even on someone like Scara- Kunikuzushi. Against your deep, deep desires to call him out on it, you simply lean one shoulder on the doorframe as you cross your arms, the picture of nonchalance no matter how feigned. “We meet up when I’m in the area and fight. I haven’t lost yet, but he keeps trying.”

“You realize it’s like a drug to him, right?” He turns the shard over and over, watching the way the blue shifts like sunlight through the surface of water. “If you let him win, he’ll lose interest.”

“What if I don’t want him to? It’s the highlight of my trips to Liyue.”

The gleeful smile is gone, and in its place is a downward turn of his lips that leaves you feeling suddenly bereft. Even a smile out of malevolence toward Childe is better than him being disgruntled about nothing at all. The hand holding the shard falls to his side, still clutching it but with far less care. “Is it now?”

“We’ve had a couple solid heart-to-hearts in the middle of battle. I think if things were different, we’d have been good friends.”

“Really? How good is ‘good’?”

You don’t have to think about it. It’s exactly what it sounds like, but you know you’re starting to tread some dangerous waters with how he refuses to look at you, the joints in his hands cracking with the sudden pressure of his grip on Childe’s Foul Legacy shard. The hesitation is unfortunate, and you realize your mistake within seconds.

The clatter of the shard to the floor barely registers before you realize you’ve been swung around to the outside of the building, trapped between the wall and Scaramouche. Because that’s who this is now - not Kunikuzushi who’s gone through the motions of attempted reconciliation with the parts of himself he’d tried to cast off. This is the Harbinger, the Balladeer, and you’ve unintentionally played with fire.

His eyes have grown wide with subtle fury, sclera suddenly dwarfing his irises without diminishing the effect of blazing indigo that pins you just as surely as his body does. The grip he has on your shoulders is near bruising - but only for a moment, up until you shift at the discomfort and it all seems to come rushing back to him. Where he’s at, who he’s with, what he’s been trying to do in the safety of your domain.

As if burned, his hands rip away from you as he stumbles back one, two, three steps. Despite his lower than normal body temperature, you feel cold without him caging you in. The sun above isn’t sufficient to warm you now - not while he’s looking at you as if he’s seen a ghost. His hands shake as they hover in front of him, held aloft as if he’s afraid to bring them close to himself for fear of what he thinks he’s done.

Scaramouche is absent once more. Dormant, but not entirely gone. You realize it now, as you should have from the very beginning.

“Kuni-”

“Don’t.”

It’s a plea, but you’re not sure for what. It could be space, it could be forgiveness, it could be any number of things that you’d willingly give him if he only just asked for it. Rather than do anything of the sort, he simply turns on his heel and stalks across the open grass away from the mansion you called home.

As empty as the other parts of your domain may be, something must have brought him comfort if he was seeking it out in his moment of weakness. Leaning heavily on the wall, you watch until the winding paths take him from your sight and you’re left alone - regretful and confused.

—

Kunikuzushi doesn’t come to you again - not for the remainder of the day, not for the one following. Worry had begun to set in as you settled for the evening, yet it’s swept away neatly as you’re awoken in the night to your bed shifting. Before you can even start to protest against the intruder, you’re met with a quiet, “Sh-sh-sh”. Just the tone tells you who it is.

Immediately you settle as he slides in next to you, close enough that he takes your body heat and bounces it back at you. As he shifts, you feel his skin against your own and an involuntary sigh leaves you - it’s undoubtedly pleased, but he makes no verbal note of it.

He doesn’t even ask. You don’t need to give him permission. The absence of both is an open invitation for him to enter as he pleases, slipping into bed and keeping a respectable distance, yet holding your hand tightly just the same. It doesn’t take much thought to know that he feels far too alone, and sharing a space with you is the smallest comfort he needs.

“It’s just me.”

You know.

“Can I stay here tonight? Just tonight. I won’t again.”

That’s a lie.

“Are you awake?”

Yes, but you feel adrift in your own body. Calm, relaxed, sharing warmth with him keeps you docile. It keeps your breaths even and your eyes closed. A shuddering sigh leaves him, almost as if he’s laughing nervously. You don’t even flinch as his free hand raises to your face, brushing the back of his knuckles against your cheek before his palm cradles you.

“It’s not healthy to be this attached but I can’t stay away.” Another breath, in and out as it washes over you and pushes you further into sleep. His voice is barely a whisper, as if he fears waking you up with his nighttime confessions. The sweeping of his thumb under your eye draws a quiet hum from you - content and happy.

“I’ll always be selfish in some way. I don’t want to lose this feeling, I don’t want to be away from you and forget how this feels. It’s safe. I can’t remember the last time I felt that.”

His confession of your existence as a source of comfort brings a full feeling to your chest, and you’re certain if you were a little more lucid, you’d be welling with tears. Yet all you can do is turn your face just enough for your lips to press against the base of his thumb, brushing in a half-hearted attempt at kissing him there.

It makes his breath catch, and for a moment you think he realizes you’re awake. Perhaps he knows anyway, and is revealing all this to you with that knowledge in mind. A pressure on your forehead arises as he leans into you, his own forehead resting there and the tip of his nose brushing yours. You’re so warm, he’s so close, your head swims in lazy circles.

“I’ve known of you for so long, but it’s only during our time here that I’ve come to know you. It feels silly to be this dependent on another, but I-...” A thick swallow punctuates his self-interruption, and he doesn’t continue for just long enough that you think he’s given up. Desperately, you want him to continue - to keep whispering these things to you in the quiet of the night, the barest hint of insanity lacing his voice.

“I want to be. With you. Here, outside, wherever you are.”

It goes unsaid, but the implications are strong enough that you finally crack your eyes open to catch a glimpse of his own. The color is washed out in the shades of nighttime, leaving amethyst to fade into a cool gray that looks frantically back and forth between your own. Before he can panic, you shift close enough that your legs tangle with his own and you can curl a hand along his ribs. Your fingers slot between each one.

It’s moving so fast, this odd dance you’ve been doing with him, yet even now you feel like you’ve known him for every one of the hundreds of years he’s wandered Teyvat. Something changed, swiftly and starting from the moment you’d witnessed his memories, and there’s been no effort on your part to stop it.

It’s welcome. Wanted, even. His fingertips press into the skin behind your ear and you accept his guidance where he leads you - to his lips. Cool and soft and steady, not insistent like you expected. Not fervent and hysteric like you might have once experienced. Instead it’s almost like a plea for you to let him stay with you.

Your answer is to respond in kind, letting him take what he’d like - whether that’s comfort or something more physical. A sound leaves him, similar to a whine that peters out into something breathier. It’s almost needy in a way, and strikes something inside you to give him what he’s so clearly asking for - begging for.

The shirt he wears to bed is thin and easy for you to bunch up more and more until you can slip your hand beneath and feel his skin. It leeches your warmth, taking more and more from you as his kiss grows into that desperation you’d initially expected. Each rib is counted up to his chest, and your palm rests over his heart as if you wanted to protect it somehow. He leans into your touch, all but arching into you as you work his shirt higher.

In the span of time it takes for him to pull away and let you remove it, he’s grown flushed and frantic. The two of you crash back together with too much force, rolling until you’re below him and he cages you in as if you keep you from running - you’re not sure you ever would want to.

Before, when he’d just awoken with a new sort of life before him, he claimed he would keep you. But now, as he whines as you touch him - stroking down his chest, along his stomach, past his navel - begging for the opposite. “Don’t let me go. Don’t turn me away, please.”

“Never,” You swear it like an oath, a promise that you never intend to break, and the suddenness of the wetness at your neck startles you when he buries his face there. Whether he’s hiding from you or the world, you’re unwilling to let it continue. With both hands on his face you lift him and take in the sight of something that could have been mistaken for anguish if you weren’t so sure of his relief.

He collapses in your hold as you bring him closer, wrapping your legs around his hips in a halfhearted attempt to keep him secure. There isn’t an ounce of fight in him as he molds against you - face to face, chest to chest, hips against your own insistently in a way that makes it clear what he wants. What he needs.

“Never,” you repeat, holding him close by the back of his head, gripping him tighter to you as if to meld into one being. It wouldn’t be so bad to share yourself with him in every way possible, down to the very last molecule that makes up your being. Whatever happened in that moment with Haypasia, where you’d taken her hand and allowed her to guide you to him, it’s changed you.

There is no regret in that thought. Perhaps if something fundamental had gone wrong, where he’d taken hold of your will and twisted you into something that suited his needs, you’d have felt more wary. Instead, it almost feels the opposite with how he grips at your hips and drags against you with movements both languid and frenetic.

Teeth find the straining tendon of your neck, dragging along it with purpose that’s never fulfilled as he avoids leaving the marks you’d gladly accept. Any trepidation is left at the wayside as the pressure between you builds to unmanageable levels - and you want more. It’s too much, but you’d continue to let it spiral so long as you could continue to feel like this.

“Scara-... Kunikuzushi, I need more. Please… please-”

“Anything you want.” He murmurs into your ear, teeth finally finding purchase against your earlobe shortly before pulling away. The sharpness of it makes you flinch, nearly distracting you from the way he looms above you while working at the drawstring of his pants. “Keep me by your side, and I’d do anything you asked.”

“Anything?” You hummed, pushing up on your elbows to look at him more closely, silhouetted by the parted screens at his back. At your will, the moon in the sky freezes at its apex, lighting him with its coolness.

He’s ethereal, truly a being from another plane of existence - nothing in Teyvat could compare to this. No sight in all of your travels would approach the divinity before you that stares back with tear stained cheeks and mussed hair, fingers shaking as he hooks his thumbs into the band of his pants to pull them down.

Neither of you speak as he reaches toward you with intent, pulling your own shorts away with moves that are clumsy and unpracticed. Despite your sudden impatience, you allow him to move at his own pace here - removing your clothing, crawling up your body, smoothing the backs of his fingers along the insides of your knees before pushing them apart. His swallow is audible above the sound of crickets just outside, betraying the false confidence he’s failing to show.

“Anything.”

His confirmation comes in three syllables that are accompanied by his breath across your wetness. Shivers make their way down your spine, culminating in your knees pressing into his shoulders on reflex. It does nothing to deter him, even if you wanted it to - you desperately do not.

His first touches are his thumbs, spreading you apart and gazing with parted lips and a look of enraptured awe on his face. It’d almost be amusing if you weren’t blindsided by his immediate leaning in to taste. One long, flat swipe of his tongue is all it takes to make you shudder beneath him, your fingers wrapping around hair that slips smoothly between your digits.

The pressure of your grip urges him on further. To be more adventurous, to push inside you with fingers and tongue until you’re breathless and writhing beneath him. It’s you that whines now, pleading for him to continue more and more and more. And truly, he meant anything, as his pursuit of your pleasure is tireless and without pause nor question.

“I-I need you, I need more-”

With a deep breath, he pulls away to look at you through his lashes with no shortage of expectancy. As his lips move, the low light of the moon catches on the mixture of your pleasure and his saliva. “Soon. Let me have this, don’t be impatient.”

The scolding quiets you only slightly, just enough for him to grasp you once again with increased desperation. His fingertips dig into your thighs, harder and harder until you’re certain you’re liable to bruise. Yet you welcome it - the physical signs of Kunikuzushi on your skin. The proof of his existence here with you.

Between the sounds of his heavy breath and the press of his tongue inside you, you’re listless and left adrift at his whim. He once claimed you were cruel, but his insistence on keeping you at the edge is far more merciless than you could have hoped to achieve. Even as you begin to plead again, begging him to just set you free, he simply hums against you as if that would be enough to placate.

With your grip on his hair so tight, you have to be hurting him, yet tugging at his locks only urges him further. Instead of chastising you once more for your neediness, he instead indulges you. What was once teasing and exploratory becomes pinpoint and purposeful. Thin fingers that had simply pressed inside you now become three, then four that stretch you suddenly.

It’s divine, the closest to Celestia you’re certain you’ll ever reach, and with infinite mercy he allows you to come undone around him.

He does nothing to quiet your whines, nor does he attempt to stop you from rocking against him with near brutal force as you chase your climax despite being in the throes of it. In the apex of your release, he’s the anchor that keeps you grounded and guides you back down with softer touches and hums of approval.

Kunikuzushi calls you home, and you’re more than willing to slump in his arms as he crawls up your body and rolls until you’re on your side with him, cradled against his collarbone that’s damp with sweat. Your heartbeat fills your ears with an erratic tempo, and a slip of your hand along his neck reveals his own is thrumming just as quickly.

There’s nothing to say. No life changing proclamations, no confessions that would shatter the foundations of the very world you’re hiding him away from. Only the slow blink of your eyes as you stare at him in unfiltered wonder. Somehow, reality feels shifted and you can’t pinpoint exactly which axis it’s turned on.

There’s an unmistakable pressure against your thigh when you slide it between his own. The effect is immediate - his hips roll as he chases the friction you’d teased him with, a sharp exhale that’s akin to disbelief leaves his parted lips, and his eyes unfocus for the briefest moment. His skin catches on your own as you drag your hand from his neck to his chest, then his ribs and down his side to the hip bone that juts out from his skin. All it takes is a nudge of your palm to set him into moving against you with a rhythmic rolling that provides the pleasure he’s earned.

There’s something dark and addicting about the thought of him using you for his own pleasure like this. Only the barest of input is needed from you, giving ample room for you to watch the myriad of expressions on his face. Tension, relief, the glittering of tears welling at the corners once more.

“You’re so beautiful.”

The words leave of their own accord, but you make no attempt to stop them. All it does is make his face crumple before he turns sharply, burying it in the pillow beneath his head as if that would hide him from your sight. You’re almost tempted to let him do as he pleases, but you’re reminded of the vision you’d burned in your mind of the transcendence you’d witnessed of him in the moonlight.

And more than anything, you want to see if it tarnishes as he comes undone, or if it refracts against itself in a dizzying whirl of colors and sensations.

Rolling him onto his back is effortless, but his hips buck to chase you as you pull away the friction he’d been savoring. You’re far less sadistic, despite his prior insistence, and placate him by straddling his hips instead. There’s a new sort of pressure against him - one that’s wet and searing hot and all but begging for him to thrust up into it with the madness you’re certain still lurks beneath the surface.

Yet he stills, clutching the pillow at the sides of his head, suddenly afraid to touch you. Without his guidance, you’re left in control and it gives you a surge of bravado so strong that you barely attempt to stem it. Your hips roll once, and in turn his eyes roll beneath fluttering lashes. All you can make out is a half-lidded gaze as he watches you rock above him, taking his pleasure into your own hands rather than allowing him to use you himself.

“I-I can’t… it’s too much-”

You had your suspicions, but his frantic exclamation proves that you’re treading ground with him that’s yet to be explored. On any other occasion, you’d be delighted to have him release on you, painting your skin and marking you as his own - yet this is meant to be special.

A shift of your hips and your hand guiding him is all it takes for him to slide home easily, thanks to your own eagerness. A broken whine leaves him, cracked at the edges and scraping pleasantly against your ears as you let him bask in the moment. Beneath your splayed hands, his ribs shudder with every labored breath as he strains to make sense of what he’s feeling now.

Below you, he seems so far away. So small as he white-knuckle grips next to his head, dangerously close to catching his own hair in the crossfire. Leaning down until you’re flush with him, you run your fingers through the indigo strands to sweep them up and out of the way, revealing the entirety of his face to you.

Cradling his forehead with your palm, you take the chance to lean in and kiss him - softly, with all the tenderness you can put forth. It tastes sweet on your tongue, clinging saccharine to your teeth even as you pull away and marvel as the flush of his cheeks, the wetness traveling down his temples and into the fabrics beneath him.

His time is up, and you give him no more time to adjust as you rock your hips enough for him to slide partly out, then all the way to the base again. His pupils seem to shrink as his eyes snap open, staring sightlessly over your shoulder as you move slowly. Permanently catatonic, you’d categorize him as such while you focus on his bliss while taking this from him.

“Touch me.” When he doesn’t respond, you coo, “Kunikuzushi…”

“I-I… I can’t.”

“You can’t? Or won’t?”

It’s a tease. Surely he’d give in if he were able to, but it’s impossible to resist goading him when he looks so thoroughly broken beneath you. Your fingers trace his hairline again, asynchronous to the rolling of your hips, and you hum in acknowledgment as he swallows thickly to answer, “I-I’m going to… Please, I don’t... it’s too…”

Fragments of sentences are all he can give to you, but you understand his desperation just the same. His cheek is cool against your own as you lean closer, murmuring into his ear, “Go ahead. Fill me up. Claim me. I’m all yours, and you’re mine.”

It could’ve been a number of things. The reassurance, the closeness, the promise of letting fate entwine the two of you so tightly that there’d be no undoing such a tangle. Any one of them could have led him into throwing his arms around you and crushing you to his chest as he writhes. A choked sob leaves him, muffled by your shoulder as he all but buries himself in you in every sense of the word.

And you let him, the only sound you make is one of surprise as he releases into you with force, doing exactly as you told him to. In the wake of his climax is a series of full-body shudders, barely contained by the way he anchors himself to you with all his strength. Thin fingers feel like knives as they dig into your shoulder blades, his elbows hooking beneath your arms to lock you in.

The sound of his breath in your ear is like waves crashing on rocks, like rain on a metal roof - loud, all consuming, washing out the rest of the world if you let it. And you do, without complaint and without hesitation as you let him writhe against you in search of the last dregs of his pleasure that he’s found with you.

He doesn’t relent. Not as his movements stop, not as you pull away enough to kiss along the column of his neck and thread your fingers through the hair at the nape of his neck, and not as his breathing picks up speed and shortness again. If it were anyone else, you’d have made a comment about the tears that wet your shoulder - but he’s in a league of his own.

All you do is roll until you’re on your back once more, cradling him with your arms and thighs as the dam breaks and you wait patiently for the torrent to subside.

The moon stays exactly where you willed it.

#scaramouche #scaramouche genshin #kunikuzushi #kunikuzushi genshin #spoilers using leaks for upcoming #written pre-3.2 #scaramouche x reader #f!reader #female reader #fic #fanfic #fanfiction #maybe one shot #maybe two shot #depends on what happens after we tickle his toes and he gets his beach episode redemption arc #mdni #mind the a/n for spicy tags

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ravensmadreads · 1 month

Text

What Love Means

A/N: so remember when I said I wasn't gonna write again? Yea I'm a lying liar who lied.. anyway, this came from me screaming about my unhinged love for David York to @chronically-ghosted , who then once asked me what I thought love meant to David and the thought sent me in a spiral. It's not really so much a fic as it is a stream of my own consciousness. If anyone cares though, there definitely is a whole fic about these two and their backstory.

Warnings: uhhhh bad writing? So David is probably ooc (but this version of him is my comfort character sorry), description of a panic attack, mentions of canon violence, and like the barest hint at smut.

Taglist: @chronically-ghosted (sorry ily) @fuckyeahdindjarin (i know Dave is not really your thing, but it felt wrong not to tag you- feel free to ignore tho no pressure! )

He gasps awake. Panic creeping slowly at the edges of his consciousness until it lunges and swallows him whole. He's not even sure why. The lingering effect of a nightmare he can't remember anymore. Shadowed figures drenched in blood and violence have been a part of him for so long that it's hard to distinguish the memories from the monsters. He bites his lip to stifle a cry. Fists holding tight onto flowered sheets and jaw clenched tight as he tries to remember to breathe. In and out right? It's simple.

His eyes fall shut as he swallows the bile that threatens to choke him. He's well versed in the art of fighting alone. He's been training for years. They've drilled him so hard, for so long, that he can pick an enemy apart in the dark and not make a sound. His fight or flight has been torn down and beaten until the only option he remembers is fight and win. The voices inside him never rest. Never go quiet. The pressure in his chest tightens. Was breathing always this difficult?

And then.

A movement.

He can't make out the sounds, but he knows someone's coming. His heart is pounding. It's inching closer still. Soft, steady footsteps just on the edges of the room. And yet he can't move. Can't open his eyes. Can't breathe. The voice in his head spits venom: Coward. A thud on his nightstand. A dip as the bed shifts and the world tilts a little.

A gasp that he can't hold back; and suddenly his eyes fly open.

Deep laboured breaths. Blurred vision. Every muscle on high alert. There's someone in front of him. He can't move. Fight or flight? A blink. Fight or flight?! Another gasp. Fight, you coward! But he can't move. Fight! He can't breathe. Would it really be so bad if he stopped?

"Dave!"

****

He blinks. There's another voice now. But it's outside the raging in his head. Outside the voices screaming for blood. It's soft. Softer than anything he knows. Anything he deserves. It's you. He can't make out the words but it's enough.

Another gasp.

Another blink.

You.

A lungul of air.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

One more time.

He's well versed in the art of calming himself down on his own. He doesn't have to though. Not anymore. Not when your arms hold him like he's the most fragile thing in the universe. He'd scoff at the thought if he could breathe.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

He can feel again. The tingling in his skin slowly being replaced by soft warmth. Soft lips on the side of his neck. Gentle hands running through his hair. Fistfuls of cotton fabric in his hands. Strands of your hair on his cheek.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Strawberry scented shampoo. Vanilla bean candles from the corner of the night stand. Something inexplicable that he can never name but that he knows is undeniably you.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Whispered assurances in his ear. The gentle hum of the air con. The rain pattering on the window and the wind that's slowly settling down now.

Inhale. Hold. Exhale.

Metal in his mouth because he bit his tongue trying not to scream. The aftertaste of the last cigarette he had before bed.

Inhale.

He can't open his eyes. What if this is the dream? What if he wakes up alone again? Fingers clutching tighter. Nails digging into skin. You feel solid. Warm. Present.

Hold.

His eyes blink open. Starry glow from the nightlight you've turned on. The pulse pounding steadily in your neck. The birthmark in the hollow of your neck.

Exhale.

Is this what relief feels like? What safety means to him now? Does he even deserve a taste of either after all that he has done?

He blinks, and it's you. It's all you. He's surrounded by you. Your scent, your walls, your colours, your skin, your presence. The one holding his hand. The voice in his head. Talking him out of the terror. Walking him out of the darkness. It's you. But then again, it has been you since the moment he fell off of that cliff. The only fragment of his life that remains. The only thing from before that he can hold on to.

Your hands cup his face, and he smiles. It's a small thing. Twists into a grimace far too quickly. He opens his mouth to apologize. For all that he is, all that he can never be, and all the horrors he darkens your doorstep with. For all his scars and all his pain. Even if he does deserve every single one of the demons wreaking havoc in his head and trying to tear him apart from the inside.

But you know him too well. Know what he's thinking. And you're already shushing him before the words can even form on his tongue. Pressing gentle kisses over his forehead. A warm smile and soft eyes staring back at him. He has never known quite what it is you see in him. Has tried to convince you of the monster that resides within, but you refuse to acknowledge his self flagellation anymore.

He grabs you tighter and starts to lie back down. Your heart beat against his racing one. Your arms around his neck. Inhale. Hold. Exhale. Maybe he can pretend. Just for a minute. That he's someone worth saving. That he's someone worth loving? He falls before he can finish the thought.

****

He wakes up in your arms. It startles him. The normalcy. The state of nothing. He's not used to silence. Not the comfortable kind anyway. If ever there's silence with him around, it either beckons death or follows it. And he's been drilled in the art of war for as long as he can remember.

He's not entirely sure what to do now. With hands on soft skin. A quiet mind. Who is he when the sun comes up? In the gentle breeze of dawn? When there's no list of names waiting to be scratched off; and when the sun filtering through the curtains chases away any shadows where monsters like him may lurk. When your breath tickles his neck and he can wake you with gentle hands and small kisses.

"Hey." A hand through his hair. "You okay?"

Trust you to start worrying about him the minute you wake up. He smiles, and it's a genuine one this time. The muscles in his face ache from disuse. He's been smiling more and more now, even if it feels unreal, like a skin he's trying to put on. You've been relentless in chasing them out anyway, and he's still surprised every time he finds a reason to smile.

He doesn't really remember what happiness feels like anymore. Small echoes of it maybe. From a distant past. Of army buddies laughing in the trenches, two little girls giggling around him, a leader that felt like an anchor and a mentor who felt like family- now all gone; too quickly, too violently - he shakes his head. It doesn't matter anymore. You're all the reason he needs now.

****

There's a word on the tip of his tongue. It lingers there. Quiet. Subtle. Just a little bit out of reach. It comes to him in the quiet moments. When your hand is in his hand, your head on his chest. When you listen to music and he pretends that he's not watching the dimple in your cheek. When you sway as you cook a meal and he forgets to remember that he's forgotten how to smile.

It comes to him in other moments. When he's on top of you, surrounding you, clinging to you. When your eyes are on his, your nails leaving delicious marks on his back. When your hands pull his hair and the only word you speak is a quiet and reverent David. He has always hated his name, but he's learning to crave the way you say it when you're overwhelmed by him.

It comes to him in the afterglow. Lingers on the edge of his consciousness. With your hand over his heart, his arms wrapped tight around you and his lips on yours. He's sinking into sleep. The warm embrace doesn't scare him any longer because no monsters in his head could never win against the light in your soul. He reaches out to hold it, that word, the one word he never had, just as his eyes flutter shut. He smiles into the kiss. He'll tell you tomorrow. You'll understand. You probably already know. You're the reason that word exists after all. And he knows you'll keep it for him until the day he dies.

Safe.

#david york x reader #dave york x reader #dave york #raven writes #remember when i was hinting about my dave york agenda #well guess what #im just gonna throw this in the void and run btw #im not even sorry #ok im a little sorry #anyway i love david and i WILL give him a redemption arc #unfortunately i have anxiety and low self esteem #anywayyyyyy #uhhh enjoy?#im gonna wake up to zero notes arent i #sbzjwbdjehdh bye

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crismakesstuff · 5 months

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i feel bad for everyone saying nolan can’t get a redemption arc or that he’s gonna be some big final antagonist

his redemption arc is a huge part of the plot of the comic guys they can’t not do it. Doesn’t mean anyone needs to like him or anything but yea don’t worry he’s gonna pay in his own blood for his crimes. mark got his proneness for getting his ass beat from his father

#and yea the BEGINNING of his redemption arc is gonna start next episode I’m sure #doesn’t mean he’s suddenly a great person but that he’s trying and failing rly hard #also he’s not forgiven by like *most* of the characters in the comic #bc too many of y’all conflate redemption arc with ‘everyone forgives them’#that’s a v christian way of thinking #and also I’m making this post bc I’ve seen too many people with like these wild ass theories ab what will happen and I’m just #sitting here in comic reader #also also I don’t like everything in the comic and how it’s done the show does it better #but nolan is arguably the best written part of the comic #ok I’m done #cris rant #text post #invincible #nolan grayson #invincible comic #omniman

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ceruleancattail · 11 months

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Hand in Hand

Cater Diamond x Reader

Rag in hand, you slap it down on the counter. Water droplets are flung out of the fabric, splattering across the smooth surface, gleaming like diamonds in the rough.

Some diamonds they were.

Destroyed with a swipe of your rag, sweeping up all the dust and grime that clung onto that familiar counter of yours.

Scrubbing at a practically difficult spot, a sigh slipped through your lips. You’ve practically spent hours at that one spot, rubbing until your fingers were all red and raw.

How you wished your patrons took the trouble of cleaning up after themselves.

Blood stains are not fun to remove, and they tend to startle most paying customers.

Thrusting your hand back into the bucket, wincing at the cold that shoot up your arm. The chill stung, stabbing deep into your skin. You throw the rag down. That stain could wait.

Reaching for a mug, you froze. The chime of bells, ringing out in a chorus of chaos. The door was pushed open, someone practically slipping through it.

A cheery voice, bright and sunny.

“Your beloved Cay Cay has arrived! Did ya’ miss me?”

Elbows resting on your recently cleaned counter, he leans in, beaming at you.

Settling down your mug, your fingers find their way around that sopping wet rag of yours. You throw it at him, watching him duck out of the way with a grim satisfaction.

“What was that for?”

You jab at the bloodstain, gesturing to him wildly.

“That was for this insufferable spot! I’ve been scrubbing at it all day. Did you really have to come to my cafe all bloody? Keep that to the streets, Diamond!”

He lowers himself, staring at the stain. Cheek pressing against the counter, he whines:

“Aw, but I was just so excited to see you yesterday…”

Hand clenched into a fist, you rub your knuckle into the scalp of his hair, making Cater wince. His lower lip juts out slightly, pouring like a petulant child.

It’s a pitiable sight, only if it wasn’t Cater you were looking at. Crossing your arms, you stare at him pointedly. His gaze rises to meet yours, those emerald eyes wide open.

“You want service? Get that stain off my counter first, Cater Diamond.”

His lips slip upwards, a small smile. Dropping to his knees, he picks the rag up. His other hand reaches for you, pulling you closer to him. Gently, he cups your hand within his, pressing down on the rag. Moving ever so slowly, he rubs the stain, your hand trapped in between him and the rag.

The coolness of the rag was nothing compared to the warm of his palm. It flowed into your skin, setting your heart alight. Faint callouses on his fingers brush against the back of your hand.

He was close.

Too close.

As if noticing your dilemma, Cater glances up. Shooting you a sheepish grin, one corner of his lip a little higher then another. An adorably crooked smile.

“Many hands make light work, no?”

His fingers slip into yours, intertwining. Palm against palm, heartbeat racing from your heart to his. Clashing rhythms, slowly melting into one.

“So let me hold you a little tighter, alright?”

#twisted wonderland #twst #twisted wonderland x reader #cater diamond #cater x reader #cater #cater diamond x reader #twst cater #twst cater diamond #Disney twisted wonderland #Disney twst #nightfall au #lucky potion🔹#MY CATER REDEMPTION ARC #TWO CATER FICS IN A DAY #????#amazing

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mayhem-neverending · 2 months

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The Big Bad Wolf

Part XIV

Word Count: 3881

Warnings: Some language, and not really proofread (whats new?), men being gross

Notes: I worked on this after my kid went to bed almost every day this week. It's so different with them being on the journey, but it was pretty fun to write. Enjoy, friends :)

“You have to get up, I’m sorry,” Obito murmured lowly for the third time.

You only clung closer to him, fingers creeping up to the nape of his neck as you tucked your head tightly under his chin. He called your name in the same quiet tone and you groaned softly, fingers curling into his hair and gently scraping his scalp. The motion sent a shock wave through him and a violent shiver ran down his spine.

He cleared his throat and called your name again, only slightly louder. He truly did not want to wake you. He was drinking in the feeling of your warm, soft body pressing into him like a man stumbling upon an oasis after a week in the desert. The only reason he made a half-hearted effort was so he could say he had tried when you woke up angry at him for being behind.

He knew it was more than selfish of him, but in that moment, he couldn’t bring himself to care. He shook you gently once more; his last fake try at waking you before he closed his eyes and gave into the sleep that had been slowly sinking into his bones the past hour.

You grumbled something at the shake, and he held his breath. He felt your pattern of breathing change against him and your head lift just slightly.

“Obi?” The lingering sleep in your voice wrapped around the nickname like a warm blanket.

He sucked in a breath. Fuck.

The sun rose slowly as the two of you trudged through the thick forest. The snow wasn’t as deep through this area, the trees far too close for it to find its way to the ground like it had a few miles back. The two of you wore your civilian clothes, which were not as warm as your uniforms, but you had passed the midway point a couple hours ago. Obito found himself grateful that the trees kept the bitter wind from being as strong as he shivered in his long black trench coat.

If he was allowed to, he would have used his chakra to warm himself a long time ago. Unfortunately, the cold chains on his wrists served as a reminder every time the idea sprouted. He followed closely behind you as you led the way. It seemed to him like you were at least vaguely familiar with this path, which he was curious about, since this was a side path from the main westerly road, but he elected to keep his thoughts to himself for the time being.

It didn’t take long for the two of you to reach the end of the tightly woven trees. It stopped all at once and opened to a large clearing of glittering snow in the bright morning sunlight. Obito could make out a frozen pond a ways away and took note of it for later. He sped up a bit and took up the space beside you now that there was room. He couldn’t see your mouth under your knitted scarf, but he did see your eyes crinkle with a smile when you glanced over at him.

His mind drifted to earlier that morning, like it had since the moment you two continued your journey. His heart picked up pace when he thought of the way your fingers gently scratched his scalp and your gentle breaths brushed against his neck. A rush of gratitude filled him; it was a privilege to have held you. He felt he didn't deserve the way you treated him. It had been a thought he had chewed on for a while, and something he couldn't shake. He had committed unredeemable acts. Men like him hardly deserve second chances, he was more than sure of that.

Obito realized his thoughts were wandering too far and had to refocus by listening to the crunch of the snow under his feet and the breeze gently lifting the hair of his forehead. The snow was losing its depth again, thank goodness, so it actually was a crunch rather than the stomping from earlier.

“When we get to civilization I’m going to act like we’re married, whether you like it or not,” You said out of nowhere.

Obito tensed up and began to feel uncomfortable heat under his collar. He darted his eyes to you and back. “Why are you stuck on that?”

He wasn’t particularly fond of the annoyed look you sent him.

You huffed. “How many men and women have you met traveling together that weren’t either together, on a mission, or related?”

He paused to actually think about that and remained silent for a minute. He had to admit, he couldn’t name a single instance off the top of his head.

“We could be related, why not do that?”

“No,” you replied flatly.

Your eyes were sharp when you glanced in his direction and they pierced right through him. He didn’t argue with you after that, and the two of you continued on for the next few hours in relative silence. You only began idle chatter later on, when the sun was high in the sky and the two of you munched on some snacks you had packed.

You informed him a little bit about your relationship with Hina; how the two of you had grown up together like sisters before you moved to the Leaf. You remained close afterwards but you didn’t see her very often, not even during the time you moved back to Akujia. You didn’t mention her name or anything too specific, though, just in case someone heard you.

He listened intently, genuinely interested in learning more about you. He was intrigued with the way you talked about your childhood, but he also found it adorable that your accent seemed to slip more when you described the trouble you used to get into.

Obito truly wished he could tell you about his childhood, about the academy, Team Minato, and his silly rivalry with Kakashi, but you were too close to the border now. One word overheard and the two of you would be in deep shit. Instead, he asked about your relationship with Toma.

“I was kinda waiting for you to ask,” you sighed.

He raised a brow at you but said nothing, letting his silence prompt you into speaking. You shook your head while continuing your steady pace forward. “He’s a piece of shit that baby trapped me, essentially,”

“Why were you with him in the first place? You’re like, a hundred leagues above him. I just don’t get it, like at all,”

You grimaced. “He was… well, he was a rebound. He was the first guy to consistently show up after I found out my boyfriend - who was also my first love - was cheating on me. My standards weren’t high at the time, obviously. Getting cheated on really fucked with my head for a while, and I felt.. I don’t know, unloveable? I guess?”

Obito stumbled in his tracks. When you peeked over at him, he was staring at you like you had grown a second head. You could almost hear the whirring of his brain as he tried to comprehend your words.

“I know better now. I was just naive and hurt at the time,” you said quickly, turning to him.

“I…hate that,” said, pained.

You shrugged and continued walking, not wanting to say more on the subject. He tried asking another question but you brushed him off, telling him now wasn’t the time. He asked a couple more but eventually dropped it, uttering something under his breath you didn’t quite catch when he did.

…

Both of you heard the hustle and bustle of the village before you saw it. Shouts from vendors advertising their wares greeted your ears in growing clarity the closer you got. The normalcy of it put a smile on your face and you glanced over in Obito’s direction. If it had any affect on him, he didn’t show it. His expression remained stoic.

You finally stumbled on the main pathway that led out of the trees and onto the main street. Obito stepped from the trees first, holding out a hand to help you step over a gnarled root. You took it graciously, acting like you were more uncoordinated than you actually were.

Obito went to drop your hand when you had successfully made it onto the path, but your grip tightened. His stomach fluttered as you entwined his gloved fingers with yours. He looked down at you and you gave him what he could only call a shy smile. He felt a burst of fondness followed by a twinge of guilt.

“Time to test my acting skills,” you said low enough that only he could hear you.

He raised a brow at you but said nothing. He was interested in seeing what you could pull off if he was being honest with himself. If you were good at it, it could end up being incredibly entertaining, and his tired brain could use a little of that.

The stall vendors called out to the two of you while you passed and Obito enjoyed watching you politely wave them off. It was a good distraction from the sudden anxiety he felt at being in a crowd of people for the first time in two years. The last had been when his brain had been rifled through for his interrogation upon returning to the village, which at least eight people were present for.

You glanced up at him, a small smile lighting up your face after waving a very persistent man off, telling him you didn’t have the money for whatever he was selling. He gave you a hint of a smile and it only served to widen your own. You pulled him closer so you held his arm while you walked, which had butterflies erupting in his stomach.

One of the last stalls at the very end of the market sold beautiful silver necklaces, and the man there shouted his pitch at Obito, specifically.

“You’ve got such a pretty girl on your arm, sir, don’t you think she deserves a beautiful necklace to compliment her beautiful face?” The old man held a couple necklaces on his hand to showcase them to Obito.

Obito slowed and scowled at him. “No, thank you,”

“C’mon, Mister! Your girlfriend looks like she’s interested. She deserves a gift!” He waved the necklaces around.

You giggled softly beside Obito and nudged him playfully. He peered down at you, feeling a blush start to dust his cheeks. If he was an outsider, he wouldn’t even question your relationship status with the way you were staring up at him - doe eyed and parted lips. He stumbled a bit, lost in your trance and your pouty lips turned mischievous for a moment before it was back to the perfect picture of innocence.

“He’s right, baby. I deserve it, don’t I?” Your voice was like honey as you batted your lashes at him and pressed closer - like it was the most natural thing in the world.

His face turned a darker shade of red, only outdone by the cherry shade coloring the tips of his ears. He couldn’t fathom that you were really looking up at him like that - like a lovestruck school girl. His eyes flickered down to your lips and back up.

The old vendor clapped and cheered on your faux efforts. Obito shook his head at you, unable to formulate a single sentence when you were looking at him like that, his tongue glued to the roof of his mouth. He couldn’t help but fall prey to the act. It wasn't his fault, even if you were pretending no one had ever looked at him like that before.

You took the initiative and shook your head at the merchant when Obito didn’t respond but didn’t continue walking, either. You waved him off and thanked him for his effort, telling him that you would have to come back soon.

The two of you continued north on the main road, Obito’s blush still intact. His eyes slid over to you every few steps as the image of you looking up at him so sweetly stayed in the forefront of his mind. It was absolutely distracting, and the little self-satisfied smile you wore made it that much worse. Your laced fingers tugged his as you guided him down the busy street.

There were plenty of attractions further in, most of which were food. The delicious smells wafting through the air had Obito’s stomach growling and mouth salivating. He had grown accustomed to having regular meals, and the snacks you shared on your journey so far weren’t exactly cutting it.

You seemed to have the same idea as him after a particularly delectable scent overwhelmed the two of you. You looked at each other at the same time, matching smiles forming when you realized you were thinking the same thing without having to speak a word.

“Order to go? It’ll be a good time to use the restroom, anyway,” you suggested.

“Sure,” he agreed even though you were already heading inside.

You were quick to pick something off the menu and tell Obito. You pulled out your wallet and handed him a bit of cash. “Order for us? I’ll be back in a sec,”

He wasn’t fond of the idea of you going off in the busy restaurant, even if it was small, but he didn’t have much choice. He waited a little impatiently for the couple in front of him to order, his eyes glancing between the hallway where you had disappeared and the menu.

He was able to order shortly before you returned, so you switched and let him use the restroom while you waited at the counter for your food. You placed your chin on your fist and stared off toward one of the windows, zoning out a bit now that you weren't moving.

You became aware of a dark haired man in your peripheral. Lazily, you said, “They said ten minutes,”

You turned your head towards him and became acutely aware that this man was not Obito. A sleazy grin stretched across his face and he winked.

“Ten minutes and I'm leavin’ with you? Sounds good to me, Baby girl.” He sauntered over to the counter.

He leaned an elbow against it and put his other hand in his pants pocket and leaned into your bubble. You leaned back an equal distance, lips pinched as you met his eyes with bubbling irritation.

“I thought you were someone else. My mistake. You can leave now,” You replied curtly.

“Ah, don't be that way, Baby. We could have a lot of fun together, y’know?” He dropped his eyelids halfway over his blue eyes.

“Not interested,” You replied bluntly, your arms crossing over your chest.

What was taking Obito so long?

The man leaned in even closer, and you didn’t attempt to mask the disgust that overtook your features. In a dangerous tone, he replied, “Such a pretty little thing shouldn’t be talking back to a man like me,”

A shiver of revulsion ran down your spine and you placed a hand squarely on his chest, pushing him away by a few inches. You were loud, snarling when you said, “A man like you? You mean a rapist?”

A few heads whipped in your direction and his mouth dropped open in shock. It quickly contorted into seething rage and he snatched your wrist with a bruising grip. You hardly reacted, anger coursing through you at the gall of this stranger. The two of you engaged in a staring contest of sorts, and you could see the ugly twitch of a vein pulsing in the man’s forehead.

The man’s eyes flicked over your shoulder. Immediately, you knew that Obito was coming and you begged any deity out there that the scene would be diffused by his presence. The air around you thickened and you felt his warmth as he stepped up behind you, his chest flush against your back. His gloved hand slid down your arm to where the nasty stranger was still gripping you with surprising strength.

You didn’t recognize the low, gravelly voice above your head when he warned, “I would take your hand off her and walk away if I were you,”

Your own eyes widened a smidge, the severity of his tone and the deep rumble of his voice sent ice through your veins.

His eyes only narrowed and he clamped down even harder on your wrist, causing you to involuntarily hiss. It was a shame he didn’t know who he was messing with, because you saw his life flash before your eyes only a moment before his hand was forcefully removed. He stumbled backwards into the stool behind him, cupping his fingers against his chest.

You finally turned to look at Obito behind you, your hand gently holding your bruised wrist. Anger darkened his face in the low lighting of the restaurant. The way he towered over you with rigid posture, his eyes swirling with a darkness that could swallow the room whole sent shockwaves of fear through your system and made your mouth run dry. You didn’t know this man. This - this was the nightmarish figure stories were told about; the man you had forgotten truly existed as more than a tale.

His terrifying aura engulfed the area around you, and you could only stare up at him with a slack jaw. His unwavering focus was on the man still, who was finally figuring out he was no match to Obito. You couldn’t see it, your vision solely zeroed in on Obito, but the disgusting stranger tucked tail and nearly sprinted out the front door of the establishment.

His lashes fluttered and his posture minutely relaxed when the man was out of sight; the atmosphere shifting as the lights and sounds of the restaurant returned to you. His eyes had softened when he met your glazed, fearful stare.

His heart locked up in his chest when he realized it was directed at him. He knew he shouldn’t have let his anger and need to protect you get the better of him, and this was the price. He took a step back, creating space so as not to scare you further, guilt and his own fear spreading in his chest. This was the last thing he wanted; since he had met you all he desired was your approval and companionship. Of course he would fuck that up, just like everything else in his life.

He was ready to flee when you snapped out of your state. You blinked up at him, and he watched your brows crease with uncertainty that speared his heart even further. You swallowed and reached out to him, turning completely towards him on your chair. He watched with bated breath as your fingers clasped his coat and your expression neutralized. You gently tugged and he hesitantly retook his place, though he left a couple inches or so of space between you.

He watched your eyes quickly scan the room and you pulled harder so that he was standing between your legs. He saw people’s eyes on the two of you throughout the room. Your tongue darted between your lips before you bit it. Softly, you said, “Thanks, Babe,”

His throat felt like it was closing up so it took him a minute to respond. He did his best to maintain the husband act. Thickly and a little awkwardly he replied, “Of course, I can’t let my wife be harassed, can I?”

Something shifted in your demeanor and the fear died in your eyes. He let out a shaky breath as the corner of your lips tugged up just a little bit. You took one of his gloved hands and pressed his palm against your cheek. You released a long sigh and watched him through your lashes. “I’m sorry, I know I make it so hard for you by being this beautiful. I’m glad you didn’t fight anyone this time,”

If the circumstances were different, he would have laughed and played along, but he found it hard to speak with his pulse still racing in his throat. He could only let out a small, “Yeah,”

The fingers of your unbruised hand found their way to his collar and pulled him down. He tried his very best not to be too stiff and not to look surprised. Your fingers found purchase on the back of his neck and you gently pressed your lips to his cheek. Your nose brushed against his cheekbone as you leaned in to whisper in his ear.

“We need to be out of town the second our food gets here,” your tone was urgent, a complete one-eighty of your act.

“And you need to put your hands on me. We’ve drawn enough attention as it is, you’re not helping by pulling away after that little stunt,”

You drew back a couple inches when he planted a large hand on your waist. His uncertainty and fear were palpable, but he was at least pliant under your command, if a little dazed. Your own uncertainty had waned at the return of the Obito you knew, but you could understand a little of what he was feeling. The time you had spent closely together was useful in that respect.

He leaned into your ear, his breath tickling your neck as he whispered an, “I’m sorry,” twinged with what you could only identify as regret.

You wanted to tell him it was alright, but the image of him from before flashed behind your eyes and you almost shivered. You tucked your head into the crook of his neck, your arms wrapped loosely over his shoulders. Your mind raced as you tried to come up with an appropriate response when a burst of excitement shot through you.

It occurred to you then that one of the most dangerous men in the world was concerned about how you viewed him. Why else would he say sorry like that? You considered your interactions with him over the short time you had known him, and a prideful feeling sunk into your chest. One of the most dangerous men in the world allowed you to boss him around. One of the most dangerous men in the world considered you his friend. One of the most dangerous men in the world followed you around like a puppy. One of the most dangerous men in the world probably just broke the fingers of a guy harassing you.

Before you could get too far into your little power trip, a smug smile creeping onto your face, the waitress set your order on the counter next to you in a paper sack. Obito was taken aback by the glint in your eyes when you pulled away from his neck. You tilted your head up and pressed a kiss to the corner of his tense jaw.

“C’mon Baby, let’s go,”

You slid off the stool and pointed to the bag. He took the hint and grabbed it, letting you slide under his arm on the other side. You called out, “Thank you!” and the two of you left in a hurry.

14.5

Tag List: @mostlyunsure, @humongousdreamlandbear, @ichaichahatake, @mandy-yeager, @detectivestucks

#naruto #x reader #obito uchiha #x y/n #obito x reader #au #obito uchiha x reader #obito lives au #redemption arc

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nickeverdeen · 25 days

Text

The 100: What are their love thropes with you

Clarke Griffin

Enemies to lovers

You and Clarke start off on the wrong foot, with frequent arguments and disagreements fueled by your opposing viewpoints or loyalties

Circumstances force Clarke and you to work together, whether it’s due to a common threat, a shared mission, or being stranded in a challenging environment

Despite your initial animosity, Clarke and you begrudgingly acknowledge each other’s strengths and capabilities, leading to a begrudging respect for one another

As you spend more time together, you and Clarke begin to find common ground and compromise on your differences, forming a tentative truce to achieve your mutual goals

During vulnerable moments, Clarke and you open up to each other about your fears, insecurities, and past traumas, fostering a deeper emotional connection between you two

Through your interactions, you both gain insight into each other’s perspectives and motivations, leading to a greater understanding and empathy for one another

Despite growing feelings for each other, you and Clarke struggle with conflicting loyalties to your respective factions or groups, adding tension to your budding relationship

As your relationship evolves, you and Clarke navigate the complexities of your feelings, experiencing a slow burn romance characterized by longing glances, subtle gestures of affection, and unspoken tension

Despite your turbulent history, you and Clarke share moments of tenderness and vulnerability, where you offer each other comfort, support, and reassurance in the midst of chaos

Your relationship is punctuated by defining moments where you choose each other over your past grievances, solidifying your commitment to one another and embracing your love despite the odds

Clarke and you face numerous obstacles and challenges that test your relationship, from external threats to internal conflicts, but you emerge stronger together, united in your love and determination

As you continue to work together, you and Clarke develop a seamless and shameless relationship and become an unstoppable team, complementing each other’s strengths and weaknesses

After a journey filled with trials and tribulations, you and Clarke finally confess your love for each other, breaking down the barriers and embracing a future together

With your love as your foundation, you both envision a future together, where you can overcome any challenge as long as you have each other side by side

Despite the odds stacked against you two, both of you defy expectations and forge your own path to happiness, embarking on a journey filled with adventure, passion, and unwavering love

Wells Jaha

Friends to lovers

Wells and you have known each other since childhood, growing up together in the same community or social circle

Despite your differences, you and Wells share a deep bond forged over years of friendship, understanding, and mutual respect

Your relationship begins as a platonic friendship based on shared interests, experiences, and values, with neither of you considering romantic feelings for each other at first

You and Wells are each other’s biggest supporters and confidants, always there to offer a listening ear, a shoulder to lean on, and unwavering support through life’s ups and downs

Over time, Wells and you start to develop romantic feelings for each other, initially unaware of the other’s hidden emotions due to fear of ruining your friendship

Despite your growing attraction towards each other, both of you tiptoe around your feelings, hesitant to risk your friendship by confessing your romantic interest in each other

As you spend more time together, both of you begin to realize the depth of your feelings for each other, grappling with the fear of ruining the friendship if you pursue a romantic relationship

After much internal turmoil and soul-searching, Wells and you finally confess your love for each other, breaking down the barriers that once held you back and embracing your romantic connection

With your friendship as a strong foundation, both of you navigate the transition from friends to lovers, adjusting to the new dynamics of your romantic relationship while cherishing your shared history

As your romantic relationship blossoms, Wells and you embark on a journey of growth and self-discovery together, supporting each other’s dreams, aspirations, and personal development

You and Wells revel in the newfound intimacy and affection of your romantic relationship, cherishing the small moments of physical touch, emotional connection, and verbal affirmation

Despite the challenges and obstacles you face, Wells and you navigate the highs and lows of your relationship with grace and resilience, strengthened by your unwavering commitment to each other

With your love as your guiding force, you and Wells envision a future together filled with love, laughter, and endless possibilities, united in your shared dreams and aspirations for the future

Yours Wells’ love stands the test of time, enduring through life’s trials and tribulations, and growing stronger with each passing day, a testament to the power of friendship and love

Together, Wells and you embark on a lifelong journey of love and companionship, embracing each other’s flaws and celebrating each other’s triumphs, living out your own happily ever after

Octavia Blake

Forbidden love

You and Octavia are drawn to each other despite being from opposing factions and tribes setting the stage for a forbidden romance

You steal moments together in secret, away from prying eyes and the judgment of each other’s peers, meeting in hidden places or under the cover of darkness to avoid detection

Your love is fraught with risk and danger, as your relationship could jeopardize alliances, provoke conflict, or result in severe consequences for both yourselfs and your communities

You and Octavia share whispered confessions of love and longing, your words filled with passion and urgency as you navigate the complexities of your forbidden romance

Despite the risks, you and Octavia find yourselfs irresistibly drawn to each other, unable to resist the thrill of the forbidden and the intensity of your connection

You must carefully navigate the delicate balance between your love for each other and your loyalty to your respective factions or tribes, constantly facing the threat of discovery and reprisal

You and Octavia are forced to make sacrifices and compromises to keep your love hidden, putting your own desires and happiness on the line for the sake of your forbidden romance

Your love challenges societal norms, expectations, and prejudices, forcing you to confront deep-seated biases and confront the consequences of your actions

Despite the challenges you face, you and Octavia find solace and hope in each other’s arms, drawing strength from your forbidden love as you strive to overcome the obstacles standing in your way

You and Octavia are willing to defy convention and risk everything for the sake of your love, determined to carve out a future together despite the odds stacked against you

You and Octavia share intimate secrets with each other, creating a bond of trust and understanding that transcends your forbidden circumstances

You steal kisses in hidden alcoves or secluded corners, your moments of stolen intimacy filled with longing and desire as you revel in the forbidden thrill of your love

Octavia is fiercely protective of you, willing to risk everything to keep you safe from harm, even if it means defying her own tribe

Octavia whispers words of affection and devotion you, your whispered declarations of love serving as a reminder of the depth of your connection despite the dangers that surround both of you

In public, you and Octavia exchange fleeting glances and subtle gestures of affection, your silent communication speaking volumes about the depth of your feelings for each other

Lexa

Protector/Protectee

Lexa first meets you during a dangerous situation where you are at risk

Lexa, being the Commander, intervenes and saves your life, establishing a bond between you two

Lexa takes it upon herself to ensure your safety, assigning guards and keeping a close watch on your well-being

Despite your differences, you and Lexa develop a deep mutual respect for each other

Lexa becomes a source of emotional support for you, offering guidance and reassurance during difficult times

Whether it’s providing a shoulder to lean on or offering words of encouragement, Lexa is always there for you

Lexa is willing to make sacrifices to protect you, even if it means putting herself in harm’s way

She prioritizes your safety above all else and is willing to go to great lengths to ensure your well-being

Despite your close bond, you and Lexa hesitate to acknowledge your deeper feelings for each other, fearing the consequences of a romantic relationship

Your unspoken attraction simmers beneath the surface, adding a layer of tension to your dynamic

Amidst the chaos of their world, you and Lexa share moments of tenderness and intimacy

Whether it’s a quiet moment by the fire or a gentle touch, you find solace in each other’s presence

Lexa expresses her love and devotion through protective gestures, such as standing between you and danger or offering her cloak to keep you warm

These actions speak volumes about her feelings for you

Lexa’s protection of you is fueled by her unwavering loyalty and devotion

She would do anything to keep you safe, even if it means risking her own life in the process

You and Lexa work together to strategize and plan for potential threats, utilizing your combined skills and knowledge to stay one step ahead of your enemies

Lexa takes it upon herself to train you in combat and self-defense techniques, ensuring that you are prepared to defend yourself in dangerous situations

Amidst your busy lives, you and Lexa cherish quiet moments together, enjoying each other’s company in the tranquility of nature or the privacy of your quarters

Raven Reyes

Opposites attract

You and Raven initially clash due to your contrasting personalities and approaches to problem-solving

Raven is logical and pragmatic, while you are more intuitive and empathetic

Despite your differences, you and Raven are forced to collaborate on a project or mission

You both reluctantly agree to work together but remain wary of each other

As you work together, Raven begins to admire your unconventional methods and ability to think outside the box

You, in turn, gain respect for Raven’s intelligence and technical expertise

Throughout your collaboration, you and Raven face various challenges that require you to rely on each other’s strengths

You learn to complement each other’s skills and abilities

Over time, both you and Raven start to build trust in each other as you prove yourselfs capable and reliable partners

You begin to open up and share personal stories and experiences

Despite your initial differences, you and Raven develop an unexpected bond forged through shared experiences and mutual respect

You both find common ground in your determination to overcome obstacles

Raven becomes a source of emotional support for you during difficult moments, offering encouragement and reassurance when needed

You, in turn, provide a listening ear and offer comfort to Raven her during moments of vulnerability

You and Raven challenge each other to grow and evolve, pushing each other out of your comfort zones

You inspire each other to strive for greatness and pursue your goals with determination

Despite occasional disagreements, you and Raven learn to resolve conflicts maturely and constructively

You communicate openly and honestly, addressing issues when they arise and finding common ground

You and Raven discover that you share similar goals and aspirations, despite your different approaches

You find strength in your shared vision for the future and work together towards achieving it

You and Raven celebrate your successes together, acknowledging each other’s contributions and achievements, you take pride in your accomplishments as a team

That’s when the unspoken feelings and chemistry gets more visible and stronger between the two of you

You and Raven provide unwavering support for each other, standing by each other’s side through thick and thin, you know you can always count on each other no matter what

As your partnership blossoms into a deep and meaningful love relationship, you and Raven realize that your differences only serve to complement each other, you embrace your unique bond and look forward to facing whatever challenges the future may bring together

Finn Collins

Childhood sweethearts

You and Finn grew up together in the same neighborhood or attended the same school since childhood

You were inseparable as kids, always playing together and sharing your secrets and dreams

After being separated for years due to different life paths and circumstances, you unexpectedly cross paths again in adulthood

Despite the time apart, you quickly reconnect and find comfort in each other’s presence due to your shared history

You reminisce about your childhood adventures, bringing back nostalgic memories and strengthening your bond

As you spend more time together, you and Finn start to rediscover the feelings you had for each other as children

You navigate the complexities of adult life together, leaning on each other for support and guidance

You both realize that you still share similar dreams and aspirations, reigniting your connection on a deeper level

You face challenges and obstacles together, but your strong bond helps you overcome any hurdles

You and Finn grow and evolve together, supporting each other through life’s ups and downs

You build trust and understanding, knowing each other’s strengths and weaknesses from your shared childhood experiences

Finn becomes yours biggest supporter, always cheering you on and believing in your abilities

Your childhood friendship blossoms into a rekindled romance as you both realize that your bond runs deeper than friendship

You envision a future together, filled with love, laughter, and the shared memories of your childhood adventures

You and Finn find your happily ever after, grateful for the second chance at love that fate has given you

Jasper Jordan

Survivors of tragedy

You and Jasper bond over your shared experiences of loss and hardship, having both endured tragic events in your lives

You find comfort in each other’s company, as you can empathize with the pain and struggles you’ve each faced

You and Jasper become each other’s support system, offering a listening ear and a shoulder to lean on during difficult times

You embark on a journey of healing together, helping each other cope with your past traumas and find closure

Despite your painful pasts, you and Jasper strive to create new, happier memories together, focusing on building a brighter future

You draw strength from your relationship, empowering each other to overcome your demons and move forward with your lives

You and Jasper face new challenges as you navigate your relationship, but you tackle them head-on as a team

Your bond deepens as you open up to each other about your vulnerabilities and fears, fostering a deep emotional connection

You both learn to appreciate the small joys in life, cherishing each moment you have together and finding solace in your love

You and Jasper demonstrate resilience and perseverance in the face of adversity, refusing to let your pasts define your future

You both create a safe and nurturing environment for each other, where you can be vulnerable and authentic without fear of judgment

Through your relationship, you and Jasper find hope for a better tomorrow, believing that you can overcome anything as long as you have each other

You learn to live in the present moment, savoring your time together and focusing on what truly matters in life

You and Jasper make plans for your future together, dreaming of a life filled with love, happiness, and new beginnings

You both vow to stand by each other’s side through thick and thin, knowing that together, you can conquer anything that comes your way

John Murphy

Redemption Arc

At the start, Murphy is wary of your intentions and skeptical of your motives, especially given his past experiences with betrayal and deceit

Despite his reservations, circumstances force Murphy and you to work together towards a common goal, albeit begrudgingly at first

Over time, you prove your loyalty and earn Murphy’s trust through your actions and unwavering support, slowly breaking down his walls

You discover that you share common goals and aspirations, sparking a sense of camaraderie and mutual respect between the two of you

Your relationship is fraught with conflict and tension, as Murphy struggles to reconcile his past mistakes and redeem himself in the eyes of others

With your encouragement and guidance, Murphy embarks on a journey of redemption, seeking to atone for his past sins and make amends for his actions

Murphy grapples with feelings of guilt and remorse, haunted by the weight of his past transgressions, but you offer him forgiveness and a chance at redemption

Through your relationship, Murphy undergoes significant personal growth and development, learning to confront his demons and strive for a better future

You stand by Murphy’s side every step of the way, offering unwavering support and encouragement as he navigates his journey of redemption

You and Murphy face numerous challenges and obstacles along the way, but you confront them head-on as a team, strengthening your bond in the process

Murphy learns to open up to you and trust you with his deepest fears and insecurities, allowing himself to be vulnerable in your presence

Together, you and Murphy forge a new path forward, leaving behind their troubled pasts and embracing the possibility of a brighter future together

Your relationship is built on a foundation of honesty, trust, and mutual respect, laying the groundwork for a deep and meaningful connection

You and Murphy fiercely defend each other against outside threats and adversaries, standing united in the face of adversity

Ultimately, Murphy finds redemption through his love for you, realizing that true redemption lies in forgiveness, acceptance, and the ability to love and be loved in return

Monty Green

Strangers to lovers

You and Monty met under ordinary circumstances, introduced through mutual friends

You start off as casual acquaintances, exchanging polite conversation whenever you cross paths but not really forming a deep connection

Over time, you find yourselfs running into each other more often, whether it’s at work, school, or community events

You discover common interests and hobbies, sparking conversations and shared experiences that bring you closer together

Your casual acquaintance blossoms into a genuine friendship as you spend more time together, enjoying each other’s company and sharing laughs

As you get to know each other better, you and Monty begin to notice a subtle yet undeniable chemistry between you two, sparking curiosity and intrigue

You engage in playful banter and light-hearted teasing, testing the waters of your burgeoning attraction to each other

You and Monty gradually realize that your feelings for each other run deeper than friendship, acknowledging your growing attraction and connection

Eventually, one of you musters the courage to confess their feelings to the other, leading to a heartfelt and honest conversation about your mutual attraction

You navigate the transition from friends to something more, exploring the uncharted territory of a romantic relationship with excitement and trepidation

You and Monty become each other’s confidants, sharing your hopes, dreams, and fears as you navigate the ups and downs of your budding romance

You build trust and intimacy through open communication, honesty, and vulnerability, laying the foundation for a strong and enduring relationship

You and Monty embark on adventures together, whether it’s exploring new places, trying new activities, or simply enjoying each other’s company in quiet moments

You face challenges and obstacles along the way, but you confront them together, supporting each other through life’s trials and tribulations

Your relationship deepens and flourishes over time, growing stronger with each passing day as you continue to learn, grow, and evolve together

46 notes · View notes

azulsluver · 1 year

Text

Twisted Tales In The Dark

A Grave For Two Halloween event!

tw: yandere, being buried alive, gore in general, graphic violence, major character deaths, decapitation, use of UM, body horror.

❥ featuring the five grave keepers; Riddle, Trey, Cater, Ace, Deuce.

On the edge of consciousness, you are barely able to move a muscle. You don’t think you were breathing at the moment but everything felt cramped, mind scrambled and fuzzy. Not even a moment to consider your surroundings as soon as panic took over. Hands thrust forward to have your palms slammed against a solid barrier, kicking frantically as you struggle to call for help.

Your body is incredibly sore and In pain, the beating of your heart doesn’t stop as you try to feel what's around you. You try to calm down the burning sensation frazzling your mind; you let your fingers push upwards. Testing the weight and pressure you’re surprised to see how old and light the thing blocking you was. With all of your weak kicking and pushing did some damage at least, you tried once more with a sense of hope. As small as whatever place you were trapped in, you had enough room to bend your knees before kicking upwards.

A light dims from the cracked wood you busted, illuminating moonlight as your source of sight. To your accusations, there was no dirt or any heavy object on top of your…casket? Shivering in adrenaline, sweat rolls off your forehead as you kick once more to break the whole lid off. It didn’t take long before it went flying out from a final blow, pushing yourself back down as a reward for a job well done.

Fog oozes down to where you lay, the sky is gloomy and protected by a sort of glassware. The air is now cooler and lively, but the smell of earthy plants and such forces you to stand up. With wobbly legs and tired limbs, you look around to make sure no one has seen you emerge from the grave. There are many tombstones and lighted Jack-o-lanterns in odd areas. Speaking of odd, your casket is isolated from everything else, hidden by many grown trees and unique plants you haven’t seen before. The area is spacious and you’re lulled into the scenery of a very beautiful botanical garden. You know the place isn’t familiar, however, trying to remember what took place before. Making out the party lights, drinks, and something about a book.

Taking the time to sit under a tree away from open areas, you think until your brain blows out from your ear. Your mind makes up imagery of the book one of your friends held, old yet well kept, the deep royal purple of the cover and the cursive writing. You knew something was fishy with it, with all the cool and scary stories in it you brushed off the fact it had a whole summoning spell. Groaning, you kick your feet in anger at the situation. How unlucky were you? You didn’t mean to walk in the middle of it, nor did you mean to grab the book from flying across the room. The book.

“OH MY GOD, THE BOOK.” You slapped a hand over your mouth. Looking left and right to see if anyone heard you.

“Did you hear that?”

“It sounded like it came from over there.”

You hurriedly stand up from your spot and find a bushy area, careful to not let any branch snag on your clothes. Laying low, you move some of the leaves to create a little peaking hole, sucking your breath and leaning forward. Two men dressed in black attire come into view.

“This wasn’t here before...Where have those thieves gone?” The one crouching down to inspect the ruined casket spoke, it was hard to see his face behind the veil but his hair was some shade of blue.

Taking in their figure, you try not to gawk at the sudden realization of the two. The first story to be read is of terrifying grave keepers, a group of foolish youngsters who had decided to enter a forbidden and cursed graveyard. And now they’re in front of you, wearing an outfit so fashionable you felt a little jealous.

“Maybe Cater buried someone here, although it is supposed to be under the earth where it belongs… That ghostie could now be roaming these graves, best we hurry and find those pests before they ruin anything else.” The man beside him rants, tapping his chin before grabbing his companion by the arm.

You stay there for a bit before making sure they were far from where you were. Hearing the two bicker in the distance. Pounding your fist underneath you in annoyance, you quickly got up to your feet and dusted off your clothes. If you wanted to find a way out you needed to understand what you were dealing with. Five grave keepers aren’t exactly friendly to the living, you can recall the book mentioning something about two trespassers entering the solemnly haunted graveyard. As alluring as it is you couldn’t help but scoff at their wrongdoing by ignoring the warning signs. They were gonna die sooner or later.

Now you thought of it, they were gonna die. Brutally attacked and buried against their will, chills ran down your spine. Was it possible to save these two from their demise?

“AUGH gotta put me first.” Clenching a fistful of your hair in frustration, you look at the floor thoughtfully. Your hands grip the soft patches of grass and pull, dirt and bits flying and dirtying your hands furthermore. You take a fistful of dirt and smear it on your face, making sure your clothes have the same treatment.

If you wanted to stay alive you needed a plan. Find the two trespassers and pretend to be a ghost wanting to help them escape. That way maybe they would have a clue about a book! God, you’re so smart. Patting yourself on the back, you wonder if you should still hide away from the grave keepers. Would they be fooled by your silly plan? Maybe if you acted more stupid and have no clue what you were doing there would work, the risk has you rethinking your plan once more. Moving along the shadows of the trees and plants, you take the time to scout and admire the scenery. Trying your best to ignore the large piles of dirt stacked on top of each other, it’s best to not think of it if you prioritize your sanity. You followed a path that led to a small bridge before seeing a gate decorated with many jack-o-lanterns up ahead.

You thought about dashing for it but the fact you would have nowhere else to go, you didn’t want to die from starvation or getting recklessly killed by any other monster. To make matters worse you just remembered they locked the doors ever since they were alerted of trespassers.

“Stupid people…” Grumbling under your breath, you snap your head at the sound of voices coming from behind an isolated shack.

You were so ready for this, crouching and sneaking over to a hidden area to see what the bickering was about now. You only recognize the two you saw earlier, ginger and blue hair. But now there were two more, one taller than the rest while holding a shovel. The other one beside him was seen bending down and arguing with the two. It was getting a little annoying since you don’t know their names, the book never mentioned any names.

“No I didn’t bury anything over there, why don’t you stop worrying about that and find those thieves eh?” Such sass, the blonde-haired one flicked the blue-haired on the forehead. For killers, they act so regularly as humans that it makes you reconsider the actual danger.

“Come on, Riddle would kill us before we can find them. And I don’t know about you guys but I like my head very much, see, pretty nice looking.” The ginger flexes his head weirdly before getting a pinch from his friend beside him. “This is a serious matter, I don’t like the fact a random casket appeared out of nowhere and we looked over the place. Riddle wouldn’t be happy if he found out some ghost decided it was a good idea to break their casket.” The blue-haired looks down in defeat, squatting down to dramatically sigh.

“Deuce has a point. Now we don’t have just two humans alive but three, how troublesome~” Sweat starts to pick up on you again, they know you’re alive and out there. Biting the inside of your cheek, you lean more to hear the conversation better.

“Maybe.” The one with green hair finally talked. His voice is soothing, scaringly.

“Maybe they're here right now. With us.”

Their heads are in sync as they look toward your direction, even with their veils on you can feel their eyes staring straight at you. Feeling your heart quickening, you bite down a gasp and slowly back away. Impressive, but you were so sure you stayed hidden. As you were backing up something solid stopped you from moving any further, looking up to see a pair of green eyes staring down at you; and a smile you wouldn’t consider friendly. You open your mouth to scream but only small puffs of air escape. Seemingly shocked in fear of what might happen to you next.

“Hey! I didn’t see you coming from the front, are you that person who made a mess breaking open that casket?” You weren’t sure if you should speak up, not like you could at the moment, and gave him a quick nod. “My goodness, aren’t you a mess. I can’t tell if you were tagging along those thieves or are you..” His nose touches yours and breathes quicken at the smell of dirt and covered perfume. “Not from here?” His question made your teeth clench tightly, deathly afraid to be honest or lie your way out of there. Your ghost plan is clearly out of the window so you can only think of one scenario before the rest come into view to see you more closely.

“I don’t know where I am. The last thing I remembered was…being forced into a casket and waking up here, I didn’t mean to trespass on your graveyard! I-I don’t even remember my name or–” “So you died?” Your eyes widened and looked up at the one speaking, his yellow eyes stare into yours for any sign of a lie. “If you can’t remember your name nor why you were here, you must have died. We’re not alive ourselves yet this botanical garden helps us maintain a soil body.” He crouches down to your level, ignoring everyone else around him as he picks up your hand. “We can easily crush the bones of our victims. For someone dead, your body heat is warm.” His hand tightens around your fingers, and you let out a cry in pain and flinch away from his grasp.

“Aw, that’s not very nice. Don’t be so mean to them Trey, I’ve never seen a more docile human, and to top it off one who’s not from here.” Cater wraps his arms around you, grinning from ear to ear as “Trey” sighs and pushes his glasses up. The other two who were observing finally spoke up.

“What should we do with them? Release them?” Deuce questions, his face softening at the sight of your squirming. “Or we can bury them. Trey did say they had body heat so they couldn’t be dead! And I don’t wanna know what Riddle would do to them, he’s merciless when it comes to the living.”

Cater hums before casually laying his cheek on your head, considering the ginger's idea. “Mmm, but they’re so cute! I’m sure Riddle wouldn’t mind a new fresh of air once in a while, they can help us lure those thieves into our hands and maybe that’ll prove their worth!” Cater seems more interested in the idea of keeping you, nerving your feelings as they didn’t view you as a person. Sort of.

You sit in silence while rubbing your hands together, soothing the pain by ignoring everything around you. You felt like a lost cause, your life on the line of being alive but sooner or later, killed. You’re a little flattered that they're merciful to you, yet you can’t bring yourself to be called lucky knowing you're in the hands of cold-blooded killers. You didn’t want to die.

“Are you listening?” Eyes expanding slightly, you turn your attention back to the men who wait in silence for your response. “Easily spaced out kind of type huh? No worries, if you wanna stay alive ghostie you needa follow our rules!” Cater who was still holding onto you stands up abruptly, taking you along with him. You make a noise of understanding. “Good. So all you have to do is find those two thieves, kay? Lead them at the front of the gates so we can take care of the rest, if you do a good job we might let you live a little longer.” Was it just you or did your soul evaporate into the air?

Nodding your head furiously, you’re finally free from his hold, stumbling while you’re at it. “Well, that’s our plan. Don’t disappoint us cutie.” You take off, not taking a chance to look back.

It took some time but you finally found the two, dirtied and fear written on their face. Must have been running from the so-called boss around the place, “Riddle.” You weren’t sure what was around their neck, being the first thing you saw in their appearance; it looks pretty if it weren’t for the fact they were struggling to breathe from it. They panicked at first from seeing you, screaming bloody murder as if you were a ghost. You quickly hushed them, staying a good six feet apart to help them calm down at least. Not knowing if you should proceed with the plan or help them get out, you’re not a monster after all but you didn’t want to die so soon.

“Hear me out alright? You know the gate up at the front right, well it’s locked and I don’t have a key.” You’ll try to stall some time, it’s the least you can do. “A key? Didn’t that redhead have a key dangling on his waist?” The man spoke, looking over at his friend who nods in agreement. Great, you have some good information but you needed more.

“Say, um. I don’t think the key is used for the front gate. Before we sneaked in here I overheard a conversation about a ritual contained inside the shack at the front, and the key was used to go through another dimension.” The lady pipes up, wanting to fill in the details of what the key is originally used for. The shack is near the front of the entrance, where you saw the grave keepers and their plan to eliminate the two. Swallowing thickly, you grab the two by the hand to whisper an idea. You may have failed the first but this time it has to work.

Even if they didn’t know there was a high chance they can die

You soon knew them by the name of Jamie and Mason, both idiots trapped in a garden. You recall in the book that Jamie would’ve died first, being found by one of the grave keepers and having her head dismembered from her body, mason soon followed instead and was buried alive. You’re not sure if you can save Jamie from her fate, the collar around her neck looks impossible to take off.

Time was ticking and you knew you didn’t have much before they suspected your betrayal. you were left with Jamie while Mason left to find Riddle, he was surprisingly quick when coming up with a booby trap; an area full of colorful plants had some sort of poison that’ll leave the body paralyzed. You leave Jamie hidden, a bloody hand has been pierced by a small pocket knife she had. Probably not worth the experience but it’s better than nothing.

“Fuck, it hurts.” Mumbling, you clutch your hand to your chest and search around the shack to see if the grave keepers were still present.

“That looks nasty, didn’t know they were the type to fight back.” You bite down on your tongue from screaming, an angry expression towards the ginger who smiles at you.

“Yikes! What happened to you?” Carter pops up from behind you, leaning against you to take a better look at your wound. “They thought I was a ghost and stabbed my hand as soon as they saw me. I saw them run towards the south not too far from here. They were trying to get a key.” That seems to get them serious, their posture changing as each grabs their shovel.

A hand pats the top of your head before leaving. “Deucey will help you clean up the wound, we won’t take long so make sure not to push yourself too hard. We’ll make sure to take care of those baddies from causing any further harm.” Cater gives you a quick smooch on the cheek, causing your face to heat up from the sudden affection. He is awful!

Deuce gently gets a hold of your hands and inspects the wound, he parts away from the rest of the group to get something for you. Your leg starts to jump up and down in anxiousness, hoping Mason did what he needed to make this plan go smoothly. Deuce didn’t take long before returning, in his hands was a first aid kit.

“I found this in a stash, whenever we captured trespassers we made sure to separate any values from them.” You try not to make a face of disgust and fear, but you failed miserably, by the way, your body tenses. “I’m sorry.”

“Huh?” Deuce continues you wrap your hand in clean bandages, his fingers fiddling with yours. “I know you’re not exactly comfortable at the look of us, you don’t have to hide it. I’m not even sure why we're keeping you alive exactly, Riddle wouldn’t allow it no matter how much we insist. I’m not sure why I’m being so gentle with a trespasser, don’t think I’m picking favorites here.” His voice is bellowing a whisper, he cups his gloved hands and brings yours to his face; you flinch from the sudden coldness.

“It’s been so long since I’ve had this close of contact with a living, to feel of course.” He sighs dreamily, sinking into the warmth of your hands. “Your hands…They’re so warm. Makes me a little jealous knowing I’m not alive. But,” He leans close to you, his nose bumping into yours as Cater did, a look of adoration in his bright cyan eyes. “The living won’t live for any longer, you’ll soon rot under the earth's core. Worry not, I’m sure the gang wouldn’t mind building you a special casket, that way you can join us.” You grunt as he pulls you closer to him, the unhinged expression of his eyes squinting and his smile unnerving. Your eyes are looking over his shoulder in panic, seeing Jamie creeping closer to the two of you with a shovel in hand.

“You’ll lose your warmth but not you’re sweetness, It gets kinda boring seeing the same people every day, besides the dead of course. And you’ll look so lovely in your casket, we’ll make sure to put the loveliest flowers on top!” You tear your grip away from Deuce as Jamie swings, a loud thud and crack following along his fall. Heaving, Jamie hugs you tightly before checking your hand. You can’t seem to tear your eyes away from Deuce, blood seeping down his forehead and into the earth's soil.

Jamie grabs your arm to drag you in the direction the grave keepers went, wanting to waste no time. Your legs finally found the courage to run, moving through branches and leaves as you made it to your destination. A smile crept its way up to your lips to see four grave keepers struggling on the floor. Luckily they weren’t facing your way when Mason had the key in his hand; a scarf was wrapped around his face, assuming it was used to not breathe into the fumes.

“Quick, I don’t think the fumes would do much before they gain control of their bodies, catch!” Mason throws the key at you, the ruby gem sparkling under the moonlight. Catching it with your uninjured hand, you ignore the way Cater and Trey stare at your fleeing form. Your lungs burn and screamed, the air has suddenly gone cold and fog has covered most of the area. Your body slams against the shack's door, hands fumbling to unlock it.

“OFF WITH YOUR HEAD.”

You turn your head to look behind you, Jamie. Jamie’s head slides off her neck, a clean cut as blood spurts uncontrollably. You couldn’t find the energy to scream, but your eyes bulge from their sockets at the sight of your new friend. Mason tackles Riddle down onto the floor, you can see the rest of the grave keepers creeping closer.

“GO, HURRY UP, AND GO,” Mason yells out to you, snapping you out of your trance of horror as the door clicks. You cover a hand over your mouth to surpass your cries, bursting the door open and slamming it shut. Before you closed it you made eye contact with Mason, half of his face is torn from his skin as he’s consumed by the rest. Ripped to shreds, and will forever be engraved in your mind.

Wobbly legs walking towards a large mirror, the swirls looked unreal as your fingers touch the transparent glass. Your body slowly feels sluggish as your sense of hearing blocks the world. You can’t hear the pounding of the door. Or how Cater yells for you. You made it out alive, but at what cost? Was it worth it, knowing you had left two to die?

You can only hope they were buried, next to each other. A casket for two.

#yandere twst #twst #yandere twisted wonderland x reader #yandere twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twsited wonderland #riddle rosehearts x reader #not really but redemption arc later #trey clover x reader #cater diamond x reader #ace trappola x reader #deuce spade x reader

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minimujina · 1 year

Text

the stimmies and the shimmies !

hi i wrote a self-indulgent drabble about kuni (wanderer) where u do some happy stimming and he wants to know why!!

ᴄᴡ. written with a neurodivergent reader in mind, but anyone can read and relate as stimming is not at all exclusive to neurodivergency :] i do not at all wish to encourage harmful stereotypes or put this behavior on a pedestal—this is simply a silly happy drabble building from my own personal experiences and i wanted to share it for anyone to enjoy!!

ᴀ/ɴ. happy flappy happy flappy flip flop flappy pap :D also this actually turned out to be really cute and doesnt only have to do with stimming—its very fluffy and funny and i really like the dialogue!! not super proofread and im very proud of myself for not hoarding this in my drafts for months!! im really happy that it only took me an evening to write this!! WEEEE

“…why are you flapping your hands?”

you stopped moving abruptly, staring at the wanderer with a blank face, expression unreadable.

it took you a moment to get the words out (because he was staring at you expectantly with his arms crossed, and that was rather intimidating), but you managed to squeak them by after some self-encouragement.

“well… im happy.”

kunikuzushi seemed to scrutinize you for a moment, and you were afraid that this had only given him another reason to dislike you. “happy? why would you be happy? i hate happy people.”

(…that’s what you imagined he would say.)

though, you obviously didn’t know him perfectly well, because what he said next was far from the venomous reply you’d feared.

he simply hummed, gaze softening a bit. “alright then.”

alright then.

you had finished your happy flapping due to the interruption, no longer feeling the urge to happy flap, but you still felt calm and content, and maybe even more so thanks to his almost… sweet response. sweet for him, at least.

the expression on his face made you feel a bit warm all of a sudden—he wouldn’t stop looking at you. it wasn’t hard to tell that his eyes were boring into your own even if you weren’t meeting them yourself. you felt like a little pot of boiling water under his gaze. a little soup. a soup of happy and confused feelings. happy soup.

what was it that had made you so very happy, kunikuzushi wondered? he kept replaying the past couple minutes in his head, trying to remember what had occurred just before this, but the only pictures in his head were of you, all bouncy and flappy and so very pleased.

perhaps he should’ve just asked you, he mused.

perhaps he would just ask you.

“what made you so happy?” he inquired, as blunt and flat as ever. but you knew him just enough to know that he would never ask such a thing if he didn’t really care—and the tone of his voice was irrelevant. he always sounded rather uninterested with anything.

you grinned, meeting his gaze. it looked as though you were holding yourself back, buzzing with a chained excitement again.

“kuni, i was happy because of you!”

a most incredulous expression crossed the wanderer’s face.

“me?”

what could kunikuzushi have done to make anyone so happy?

he studied your smile, your hands, your eyes—and he could not figure out how he could possibly be a reason that all of those lovely features of yours contained such absolute joy.

you nodded confidently. “do you want me to explain?” you could tell from kuni’s horrified expression that, firstly, he did not really believe you. and secondly, he held a deep-seated loathing for himself, which was why he could not believe you. he could not accept that there was anything good about himself.

“knock yourself out,” he murmured, still seeming dazed.

you motioned for him to sit next to you, looking like you would start jumping up and down at any second. seriously, why were you so happy?

“i was just thinking about how far you’ve come, kuni,” you began. you already looked like you were in the middle of one of your long spiels that the wanderer was so often obliged to listen to. “and it makes me really happy.”

he had to hold himself back from scoffing—not because he thought anything bad about you, but because he thought badly about himself.

“remember when nahida first made you come work with me in the nursery?” you grinned. “you were so mad. it was hilarious.”

kunikuzushi averted his gaze to the ground with a grumble, suddenly finding his shoes very interesting.

“okay, i was not mad.”

“yes, yes you were! oh my archons, you were so grumpy, kuni! you-”

“no, you are so delusional,” he retorted. “i was just-”

“grumpy?”

“no.”

“ooohhh, yes, kuni was feeling a bit grumpy, i think. you were a little grumper.”

the wanderer opened his mouth to retaliate—but he faltered, a new hint of amusement smothering his gaze.

“…you are incredibly annoying, did you know that?”

in any other situation you would’ve taken that very literally, but the faintest of smiles itched at his lips, and you knew for certain that that was his way of conceding.

you probably should’ve stopped there, but something inside you just couldn’t continue in life without saying this one last thing.

you feigned pity with a pout, widening your eyes and clasping your hands.

“...did nahida forget to give you a juicebox that day?”

kunikuzushi thrust his hat onto your head, shoving you and your hysterical laughter aside. if you could’ve seen from under the big ass hat, his glowing cheeks and sheepish grin likely would have sent you into a fit, and the wanderer just couldn’t have that.

“i am so funny,” you cackled, very obviously pleased with yourself (but you were still trapped under his hat, so your voice was very muffled, and it was much more difficult for him to take you seriously this way).

“yeah, yeah. whatever helps you sleep at night, flappy.”

“flappy?” you knocked off the hat with one sweep, an incredulous smile dancing on your lips. “you jerk!”

“yes, i know.”

“oh, you are so mean,” you grumbled, though your expression said the exact opposite.

“i’m well aware, flappy.”

“you just make me wanna—wanna—oh, why i oughta-”

“oh, please, do tell!” kunikuzushi drawled, resting his chin in his palm.

when you couldn’t seem to say anything at all, mouth agape, he closed it for you—pushing your jaw up with his pointer finger—grinning smugly like he always did.

“as auntie nahida says,” the wanderer murmured, “if you have nothing nice to say…don’t say anything at all.”

and with that, he grabbed his hat from the floor, exiting the nearly empty nursery with a dramatic flourish that was so characteristic of him. you were left sitting there for a few minutes, aghast at what had just happened, until you came to your senses.

you did a bit of happy flapping after that.

thank you for reading :)

#kunikuzushi x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #genshin x reader #scaramouche imagines #something about kuni reminds me of autism LMAO??#since he’s not fully human and he spent some of his life being around people and learning how they act #learning what is ‘normal’#that reminds me very much of my own experience with autism #looking to others constantly to know how to act normal and never actually knowing yourself outside of this fake little unautistic identity #LMAOFHDJDGD #OH MY GOSH and his voice line about bitter taste #how when someone gave him coffee he didnt actually like it but he kept drinking it because.. he had to (he didnt have to but he thought so)#skdhkshdkdd just you know. he is very gorgeous to me !#and i cannot explain in words how much i adore him and his redemption arc #BOY YOU ARE SO DEEPLY REDEEMED IN MY EYES #COME HERE BOY GIVE ME A KISS #mujimade #scaramouche #wanderer #kunikuzushi

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and-claudias-world · 1 year

Text

It's Been a Long, Long Time (Crosshair x gn! reader)

My main account is currently shadowbanned and I am blocked from being able to get/recive messages, tag people, comment and if you have my notifications on for my main blog then those aren't going through either. So I am posting this here.

THIS IS NOT MY MAIN BLOG!!! This is: @and-claudia

This is a part two of this fic: The End of The World

Warnings: None really besides of hints of a possible spoiler froms2 ep12 but not really

Based on the song It's Been a Long, Long Time by Harry James

Words: 1037

STAR WARS TAGLIST SIGN UP

Week 20:

“Why can’t we be going somewhere warmer?” I whined from beside Tech in the cockpit.

“Well, Rex said this was urgent so unfortunately we don’t get the pick of missions.” He said with a shrug.

“Listen, this place is supposedly crawling with Stormtroopers now. We get in, we get out. Rex even said that if we can’t locate him quickly, leave. He knew this was going to be risky, that’s why he gave it to us.” Hunter said as he came in.

“Who is it? Do we know him?” I asked.

“Echo said someone named Mayday.” Hunter said.

I cringed slightly at his name, I still missed him dearly. He left about 7 weeks ago to join Rex. I finally accepted the fact that Crosshair was gone, so now losing my best friend was like salt in the wound, but I couldn’t keep him from what he wanted, I knew that.

We stayed in touch though which helped, it just wasn’t the same.

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

“There!” I yelled, seeing a figure slumped against the rocks.

“There is no clear landing, Hunter and Wrecker must propel down to save them.” Tech said from where he sat, flying the ship.

“Go! Hurry before we’re spotted.” I said ushering them toward the door to help them get strapped in.

As they lowered down I called out to Omega, “Start gathering all the blankets you can find. They’re going to be freezing when they get here.”

It felt like forever until Hunter was coming back up. He had one of the men in his arms.

“He’s already gone.” He said once he was back on the ship. I sighed.

“Damn it. Take him to the back, there’s a bag I think. We’ll take care of him once we land again. What about his friend?” I asked.

Hunter didn’t answer, just walked past me to put Mayday in the body bag.

“Alright, Tiny! We’re coming up!” I heard Wrecker say through his com, he had to yell over the wind.

I waited by the door to help pull him in once he was up. My focus was solely on getting him to safety I didn’t even realize who it was with him. It wasn’t until the ship door was closed and Hunter had joined us once again that I turned to face the man shivering in the middle of the ship. When my eyes met his brown ones, I froze. The moment we made eye contact though, he averted his gaze downward, scared to look at me.

I stepped forward until I was right in front of him. My eyes scanned every inch of him that they could. I turned back to Hunter.

“Is this real?” My voice was just barely above a whisper.

He gave a small nod and I turned back to Crosshair.

My eyes began to water, seeing him right here. I never thought that I would ever see him again, let alone be this close to him. I felt like I should be saying something, anything. But nothing would come out. Words could wait. I didn't need words to be able to show him how much I missed him.

“Yn-” He began to say my name but I shook my head and brought my hands up to his cheeks.

“Just kiss me.”

And he did.

He kissed me once. He tried to pull away but only enough to catch his breath and then he kissed me twice. Then again, a quick breath of air then he was kissing me once again.

He pulled away for the last time, but just to rest his forehead against mine.

“It’s been a long time, doll.” His voice sent a warmth through me.

My heart swelled at his voice, it filled with a love that I hadn’t felt since… I couldn’t even remember the last time I felt like this. I nodded and tried to wipe my tears away.

“Let’s get you warmed up, yeah?” I asked.

He nodded and allowed me to lead him over to the heater and then cover him in blankets. I refused to leave his side. It felt like if I left he’d disappear from me once again. Omega brought him a thermos of hot tea to help as well which he was grateful for. We didn’t say much, just reveled in the fact that we were together once again. Eventually, the night was coming to an end and it was time for everyone to begin to settle down.

Crosshair had warmed back up to his normal body temperature.

“You should go to bed.” He finally said.

I had my head resting on his shoulder already, “Come with me?” I asked quietly.

He didn’t answer. Instead, he nudged me off of his shoulder and stood up, offering me his hand. He lead us back to the bunk we had shared a long time ago. I found him a change of clothes from the sweats and shirts I used to steal from him. We both got changed and then settled down in the bunk. I had forgotten how much of a squeeze it was to have two people sleep in the tight space, but it felt so right.

The ship was quiet and so when I spoke up again, I did my best to keep it as quiet as possible.

“I’ve dreamt of this moment for so long.” I said.

“Hm?”

“You coming back… I knew your chip was gone back then… but I don’t even care about all of that. You’re home, that’s all I care about.” I said, sitting up a little to look at his face a little better.

He nodded, “And I’m not leaving ever again.”

I leaned over to give him a kiss, then I settled back down. My head was resting on his chest. I felt him press another kiss to the top of my head, before pressing them there again, but this time they lingered much longer.

When he finally pulled back he whispered a quiet, “Good night.”

I would have returned it if I wasn’t already halfway asleep. I hadn’t fallen asleep this quickly in a long, long time. With him next to me, everything was as it should be.

Crosshair Taglist:

@fan-g0rl @alexxavicry

#crosshair x reader #crosshair imagine #crosshair tbb #the bad batch #crosshair x y/n #crosshair x gn! reader #crosshair x gn reader #crosshair redemption arc #star wars

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trollsedits · 21 days

Note

I saw your posts requesting ideas! I am curious, what are you head canons on the Trolls and their relationship with Velvet and Veneer? Let’s say this is based on a redemption arc for them where they slowly befriend the Trolls :3

Thank you so much for this request!!! I love the idea of Velvet and Veneer becoming friends w the trolls reminds me a lot when Bergens befriend the trolls ahahah 😩🫶🏻 Honestly I’m hoping to see velvet and veneer redemption arc in the next movie cuz they reminds me so much of my two close friends who are siblings anyways yes I’ll do my own headcanon on their relationship is w befriended with the trolls I hope you like this again this is my headcanon! 🩷

So this redemption arc takes place after the events of Trolls band together! And also Velvet & Veneer got out of prison and the trolls (mostly poppy or Floyd ideas to help them become a better person and befriend the trolls)

———————-

John Dory:

-I would say that although he’s willing to help the siblings be a better person he still hold some grudges against them

(mostly at velvet THEY LITERALLY ALMOST KILLED HIS BABY BRO!)

-Jonh Dory won’t be as good as the other trolls when helping the twins to befriend w the trolls cuz that Amazon box looking dude I mean John has been living alone for 20+ years with no good social skills

-he will definitely help teach them survival skills Venner will most likely take that lessons from him and Velvet on the other hand will think is dumb and useless but she’s actually listening she won’t admit that she likes these lessons until she had to build a tent and do survival stuff cause John made them spend a night in the woods

-over time Veneer will have a good relationship with Amazon Box Uh I mean John Dory John would even be comfortable enough to show veneer embarrassing pictures of Floyd and others brozone brother

-Velvet and John relationship became rocky because like I’ve mentioned Jonh holds grudges towards velvet the most he knows that veneer wants no part in this troll-napping but he still gives velvet a chance to be friends with him and fix her past mistakes they would argue 24/7

-Venner would be the one to stop velvet from trying to troll-nap Jonh because he feels like he’s so annoying

Venner: Don’t You dare try to capture him again Vels, He’s trying to help us be a better person and be friends with him give him a chance!

Velvet: Ugh! Fine you’re lucky Amazon square box that veneer save your little *** I’ll do what ever you ask *rolls her eyes at John an cross her arms*

-Over time velvet and Jonh will warm up with each other eventually those two will share embarrassing stories about their younger siblings isn’t that great 😌

——————————

Sorry if John Dory one was a bit bad but I honestly feel like velvet and Venner relationship w square face will be like a mix feeling for this dude like I believe that Venner will automatically become friends with the trolls and velvet would take a while :]

——————————

Bruce:

-As soon as they both got out of jail Bruce and brandy offered to let the twins worked at his restaurant as waiters and waitresses

-They were both bad at their jobs at first rude to the customers mostly velvet she would even scared his poor 13 kids they would have nightmares about her and veneer would just sass the customers

-unlike John Bruce dose not hold grunges against them b/c they were just teenagers and they didn’t know any better so he gave them a 2nd chance

-Bruce relationship with Venner reminds Bruce of him and his 3 younger brother who would often sass him mostly clay and Floyd would sass him but Bruce would treat Venner like a literal child if Venner give him attitude

Bruce: I won’t let you go on break until you tell that customer that you’re sorry for being rude to them come on now say it that you mean it

-once the restaurant was closed Bruce would help the twins with training and how to treat the customers with kindness

-Bruce and velvet won’t get along at first because you will hear Bruce yelling at velvet for being rude to a customer (she once threw a bowl is galss nachos at a customer which made Bruce apologize to that customer and offered them free meals and drink due to velvet behavior)

-he will not give up on teaching the twins how to be nice around others not just trolls but other people especially his wife and children

-Overtime Venner would become less sassy and he actually improving he was much nicer to them and he also was becoming super nice that Bruce promoted him to the kitchen w his wife she would teach veneer how to cook which got him excited

-Venner almost burned the place down he apologized to Bruce and brandy and he means it he was crying and begging Bruce not to send him back to prison

Venner: I’m so sorry that I almost burned the place down please don’t send me away 😭

Bruce: *Pats his head* is okay Venner we all make mistakes and hey don’t worry is a learning process you have been improving a lot unlike your sister who needs a bit more work :)

-Bruce will continue to work with velvet to get her to change her attitude meaning that he will stand by her shoulders when she’s taking orders to make sure she’s won’t say anything rude to them

-Soon velvet will also become less rude to the customers and she and brandy built up a friendship and she will soon stop scaring Bruce kids they will soon to love her and Venner and ask Bruce and brandy if they could baby sit them while these two go on their date night

-velvet and Venner would be pretty good friends/ babysitter for the kids if they continue to change their attitude meaning no more sass and being rude)

-Bruce would automatically become friends with them overtime because of how much they change and he’s proud of them for changing their attitude

———————————

I feel like clay would be short cuz that dude just like John hold grunges against them but he’ll make a offer to let them befriend him but he’s careful he still doesn’t trust them

—————-

Clay:

-Just like JD he holds grudges against them because he almost lost Floyd cuz of them

-Would let them join his book club velvet thinks is stupid cuz you just sit there and cry and hug

-Venner on the other hand would actually cry holding clay and the others putt-Putt trolls and squeezing them a little too tight he wanted to let his tears out til he has no tears left to cry

Venner: you trolls are so huggable I could squeeze you forever <3 :D

-By hearing Venner say that clay immediately jumps off aswell the other putt-putt trolls

-Clay relationship with the siblings would be a struggle at first but he soon noticed how Venner got along with the others trolls and joining clays sad book club and Venner over time slowly is very careful not to squeeze the trolls when hugging and crying… (I need a fanart of Venner hugging clay or the other trolls crying tag me if you drew it I wanna see it 😩)

-Clay would give velvet a book on “How to treat others people with kindness” velvet wouldn’t read it at first but after Clay convincing her to she then read it

-later she would ask clay to help her how to be friends with other trolls cause she see how well Venner got along with clay and the other trolls

-Overtime, she and clay would be friends just like him and Venner but clay still doesn’t trust them clays always ready just in case they turn their backs on him

———————————

I’m so sorry if clay was super short I know clay relationship w the twins is kinda like Okay we can be friends but I don’t trust you enough type of friend ship I believe Bruce would convince clay to trust them but clay won’t trust them 100%

——————-

Floyd:

-There’s no need for him to hold grudges against those two especially velvet who has been very mean to him during the band together events

-Venner would be the frist one to apologize to Floyd for his sister behavior aswell his 🥺 and he promised that he has change

-He easily forgave Venner as for velvet he’s slowly getting there but he’s still do anything to help velvet and Venner be friends with other trolls

-Venner and Floyd would quickly becomes friends because Floyd saw how much Venner has change over the past years

-Floyd would have a day where he spend times with each of the siblings separately he had no problem with Venner they bonded and all but when it came to velvet he had much harder time cuz she would give him that look as if she was gonna lock him up in a diamonds prison again but he still made and effort to help velvet

-He’s very calm when velvet would have one of her meltdown in public where every trolls is looking at her having a break down and Floyd was just telling her to calm down

-Overtime velvet would slowly open up to Floyd being a sensitive understanding troll he understands velvet pain and the reason why she did what she did he felt bad so…

-He offered to help velvet and Venner find their true voice by giving them voice lessons and he would make them sing happy birthday and the alphabet every single day velvet often complain but she slowly realizes that her voice is becoming better with out any trolls

-Floyd would even adopt these siblings as his kids because he knows their struggles and he could help them through this and he’s understand them like no other trolls would ever not even homegirl crimp know them like Floyd dose despite him being locked up in a diamond prison

-Overtime velvet would be comfortable enough to apologize to Floyd for imprisoning him and she will grow soft on Floyd meaning that she will be protective of Floyd she’s like a cat who’s follow their owners everywhere

-Velvet begs Floyd not to tell anyone that she’s grown soft on him but eventually everyone knows even branch was worried and he has his gear ready but poppy threw them away

——————————

I honestly think Floyd and the twins relationship would be like father and kids cuz I have high hope that if any trolls beside poppy who would help these former superstars be friends with trolls is Floyd and they would actually become 100% nicer even velvet despite her lack of empathy and showing any signs of emotion towards others I honestly loved Floyd and their relationship for the redemption arc 🫶🏻

——————————-

Branch:

-Just like John and clay but expect poor branch holds the biggest grudges against them because they almost killed his favorite brother

-He would give them a cold look

-Poppy and Floyd would often hold him back because we all know he wants to attack these twins so badly

-Poppy would tell branch to give them a chance and think positively and that they will change just like the Bergens

Poppy: come on branch give them a change branch I’m sure they have learn their lesson and they are ready to become friends with the trolls

Branch: okay, poppy I’m positive that they will betray us and kidnap us and locked us up in a diamond prison :^)

Poppy: come on branch I’m trying here -_-

-still can’t convince branch to forgive them but poppy made him and the twins bonds together at first it was a struggle usually branch would be yelling at them to the point where when poppy came to check on them velvet and Venner were just shaking and crying cuz out of all the brozone brothers branch would hate them that much T-T

—————————

Okay, I’m sorry if branch was short cuz I feel like branch holds grunge’s against them so his relationship with them isn’t going anywhere else despite they have a redemption arc and are trying to be friends trolls and become a better person so they will slowly have to earn branch trust then 🤷🏻‍♀️

———————-

I would write poppy but you all already know that she will easily forgive the twins. And their relationship with her would be similar to Floyd so I didn’t write a poppy headcanon for that cuz that trolls easily forgives anyone she’ll probably even forgive Creek for selling them out aswell which made branch a bit tick off of how easily his girlfriend easily forgave someone especially the superstar twins who almost killed his brother…

———————-

As for viva she wasn’t there beside helping rescue brozone but just like her sister poppy she would forgive the twins and they would easily become friends from her braiding their hair and so much more…

———————-

Anyways, I hope you liked this sorry if it not exactly what you were looking for but I still hope you do like it <3 this took me one whole day well I had to take breaks in between cuz I have homework but anyways I hope you liked it 🥺

———————-

Anyways if you want to request me anything just click under my profile “Ask me anything!” And request me some content cuz I’m running out of ideas rn

In the meantime I’m going to be super busy for the next couple of weeks due to school and real life stuff but I will absolutely get back to you so it will take me a while I enjoy writing headcanon and stuff I appreciate being here you guys keep me motivated to post more trolls content anyways moving forward I like I’ve mentioned I will be busy for the next couples of weeks so please be patient 🫶🏻…..

————————

Like + Follow are very much appreciated! ✨

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lord-squiggletits · 9 months

Text

Something I keep seeing when I speak to others about MTMTE Megatron is basically the idea that he's going on a personal journey to become a better person, that the point isn't for him to be "redeemed" but for him to get a chance to do good and die as a person he can live with again. That MTMTE presents a unique take on this because being away from Cybertron gives Megatron a chance to be a person rather than a political figure and this is how it gives him more depth as a character. Or just generally pointing out in a narrative sense that Megatron being in MTMTE limits his story options so of course his story is going to be more focused on a personal journey than on politics of him dealing with the Decepticons/Earth/etc and that just because JRO made a choice to take that path with Megatron doesn't mean that it's inherently bad.

And I'm just, mmm like I understand all of those points and acknowledge that they all contributed to the MTMTE Megatron we got. I even think that without JRO writing Megatron we wouldn't have had his lore be as fleshed out and 3D as it ended up becoming.

(Post starts out as a sort of meta analysis or at least me giving a reasoned explanation for my interpretation of the story, ends up being petty bitching in the last 1-2 paragraphs)

I just..... I just personally don't agree with the "he's becoming a better person by getting a chance to relax and experience happiness and trust after a life of trauma" as being the best choice for his character? Because the problem is that maybe if he were a random Decepticon foot soldier that would be appropriate, but he was literally the leader of the Decepticons that made them Like That and has political/cultural/societal responsibility for why things are the way they are? To be completely frank, I don't care about him going on a personal journey for self-peace, I think that he should become a better person by helping to un-fuck all the things he actually screwed up???

Like idc about the debate of whether he can be "redeemed" or if he should've been killed/imprisoned/etc at the ending. It just comes down to the fact that for me personally, I feel that since Megatron's wrongdoings were at a social level, him "being a better person" would've been better shown by him engaging with those people who he wronged instead of just going on a frigging personal journey for his legacy and self-peace???

Especially since in other series (exRID, possibly Windblade) we literally got plots like "the neutrals hate Autobots but they hate Decepticons even more" and "the Decepticons have been taken over by Galvatron and are now invading earth 2 electric boogaloo" and "yeah the Decepticons are literally living in slums because people hate them so much and won't give them any work." It just leaves me wondering why in the hell people are like, "oh Megatron got to be happy and have a chance to be a normal person." I don't want him to be normal! I want him to repay his debts to the people he actually wronged! Like if you want to cast Megatron as a hero of the people so badly (which so many of his stans do as if he actually cared about the Cons) then how do you reconcile the fact that Megatron just fucked off and left the Decepticons to suffer on Cybertron? Including some of them attacking during his trial and getting killed and Megatron is basically like "sorry, I'm not coming with you and this isn't going to work." And then Megatron complains about "toxic Decepticon loyalty" as if he didn't literally make them that way? Like I get that MTMTE Megatron is still an asshole but if you've read something besides MTMTE and know what the Decepticons are going through, it just ends up being really grating.

I just don't see Megatron as being a particularly good hero or having a particularly fulfilling story if he's completely isolated from all the bad things he did on Cybertron/the way the Decepticons are suffering until LL#25 where it's like "ah damn I'm going to trial now, well this is what I deserve so it's fine." Why could we not have seen something like Megatron trying to deradicalize the Decepticons or change their public image so they could integrate into normal Cybertron again? They were living in SLUMS and getting gunned down by Starscream's badgeless enforcers!

The best we got was the Functionist Universe but like.... I'm sorry, but JRO inventing a whole alternate universe for Megatron to save doesn't do jack shit to save or fix the people he left behind in this one. It was especially grating to read because JRO literally wrote in someone saying "you saved billions of lives from the Functionists" as if he was trying really hard to show how good Megatron is because he saved people (and also if not for Megatron existing Cybertron would be even worse and half of your faves would be enslaved or dead, also the Functionist Council was going to genocide organics too so technically they're WORSE than Megatron since they hate organics AND want to enslave their own race).

I read Barber's, JRO's, and MScott's series concurrently using the omnibus + a release order list for phase 3, and after all that I'm kind of puzzled why the fandom seems to ardently love MTMTE Megatron and think he's so well written but then also shit on Optimus for things that he did during the same points in the story? Because, and I know this is a blazing hot take, I honestly think that Optimus makes a better hero of his story than Megatron does for his, and Optimus' personal journey combines his personal and political identities into a narrative that's a lot more gruelling and questioning of his goodness than we got for Megatron in MTMTE. Which is fucking saying something considering Megatron committed crimes against sapient species and Optimus is the guy who tried to stop him from doing that and has always been pro-equal rights for all beings. But people pretty much just cherrypick things like Optimus annexing Earth or beating up Prowl and go "he's bad" and I'm like no??? IDW OP isn't a bad person or a bad character??? It's just that unlike MTMTE Megatron he's placed in a narrative that actually suits the nature of his actions and has themes that match. To the point that IMO sometimes Barber's narrative shits on Optimus excessively or paints him mainly in the most unflattering ways.

But like. It's just funny to me because Optimus spent his entire part of the story doing things like trying to stop Earth from being invaded/colonized yet again. Grappling with his identity as Prime and dealing with the fact that people literally worship him vs. the fact that his upbringing made him see the Primacy as nothing more than a facade of authority/leadership. Having people get mad at him for prioritizing politics over friendship/relationships with other people. Even getting shit on for being a cop a decent amount so people can STFU about IDW OP being "copaganda" or "not held responsible for his actions". The problems that Optimus dealt with were personal because they had to do with his self-doubt, culpability for the war as a leader of one of the armies, distance from his soldiers, etc. But all of these are also POLITICAL struggles. Because Optimus gave up on the chance to just be a normal person having personal struggles when he chose to become a LEADER, which also means that he's held to extremely high standards that he regularly fails at in the eyes of others.

That's why, to me, MTMTE Megatron falls flat in comparison and really as a "hero" or heel-face character in general? Because he also made a decision to be a leader, and IMO once you do things like become the commander of an army and start your own galactic empire, you lose the right to prioritize your personal problems and instead are obligated by the power you've chosen to wield to focus on your POLITICAL problems. If Megatron's power, influence, and crimes are of a social-political nature, then his heel-face turn arc and ways of showing that he's a better person/helping to heal what little damage he possibly can should have been shown with actions that help on a social-political LEVEL. That's why I'm not particularly impressed with his character arc and feel as if it was overhyped by other people in this fandom: sure, the extra character depth and emotion is nice, but I'm not really going to see him as extraordinary or even particularly good when the extent of him "becoming a better person" happens entirely on a random road trip to fuck-off nowhere. Especially not when the ending of LL tried to sell me a "they lived happily ever after" ending while basically leaving the freaking MUTINY as just Rodimus going "oh it's okay you're forgiven, we're all together again" and I guess everyone was fine with Megatron and wanted to spend an eternity on a ship with him just because Getaway died.

This is why I like (the concept/themes of) exRID/OP and the way Optimus' character arc was handled a lot more. Because for Optimus, the personal and the political were as one. He was held accountable for his actions towards others and the disruptive effects they had on a social level, sometimes to a ridiculous extent (the fucking "oh Megatron is an Autobot so now that makes the Autobots colonizers" plot and that stupid colonist screaming about how Optimus is "literally fascist" my beloathed). Even his very personal issues like his relationship with Zeta were still cast in a wider lens of, yeah this is a personal struggle that Orion faced, but he was still part of a Society TM and his actions were sometimes ill-informed or harmful to others. Even if I had a lot of problems with the way Optimus' story was written by Barber (plot holes, little meaningful character interaction, forced conflicts), at least the BASELINE of it was way better than Megatron's in MTMTE. Especially since Optimus' struggle was explictly about things like struggling with responsibility and how he feels he HAS to intervene in political affairs because has to save people/make up for his past mistakes. That's something that a good leader/good person actually does, so I found Optimus to be a better hero (even if his actions weren't all "good") because he was trying to be a good person by actually getting involved with Cybertron/Earth and subjecting himself to something he hates (leadership, war) and dealing with a shitload of criticism instead of just going on a fuckin "personal journey" lksdlkfsd.

Which just makes me extra salty that people hold up MTMTE Megatron as the pinnacle of Megatrons and literally the best Transformers writing evar! while turning up their nose and ignoring or outright despising IDW Optimus. Like okay. I guess since Megatron got handled with silk gloves on while Optimus got put through the wringer of being shit on by every other person in the story, it's easier for you to pretend that Megatron is a poor uwu boy who just needs friendship and love while Optimus is literally the worst bastard to ever exist. Or maybe it's just that since Optimus' story involves him sometimes fucking up, being criticized, or making things worse, that makes him morally bad. As opposed to Megatron who disrupted a lot of other characters' stories in MTMTE, had to have an entire alternate universe invented so that he could "save lives," and got to sail off on a quantum Lost Light happily ever after, so since he's happy and the story says he saved people that means he's a good hero.

#squiggposting #it started out sort of analytical but ended up bitchy #i also feel like for some reason my understanding of what a redemption arc is is different from others?#when i talk to people about it they keep saying 'well M can't make up for what he did'#and i'm like. no that's not what i mean by redemption arc #to me redemption arc literally just means 'a character goes from bad to good over the course of a story'#whether they're forgiven or if they can 'make up for it' objectively is irrelevant like #redemption arc is literally a common label used for the general trope so idk where this confusion is coming from?#also hot take when i say a character should be redeemed i'm literally not talking about wether they're forgiven or pardoned in universe #i just mean. as a reader. do i read their story arc and see them go from bad to good and progress in meaningful ways #do they do something. anything. to address or apologize or fix what they did #is there some sort of symbolic or literal sacrifice or act of service or any Good Thing even if it's only one single moment #then to me they've been redeemed in a narrative sense. it has nothing to do with whether they can literally compensate for hteir crimes #anyways. the tldr of this is that i don't hate mt/mte at all and i also don't hate idw M. i love them in fact #it's just i feel like i was severely let down by how much this fandom hyped and continues to hype mt/mte meg #(peg/gy the pirate spongebob meme voice) that's it? that's the M redemption arc?#that's just a guy going on a space road trip and being emo #mfs tried to tell me it was one of the best tf stories ever written and i'm like. yeah thanks but no #worse still ppl came out of m/tmte going 'actually M was right about everything'#and i'm like. shit take and you are spreading this nonsense everywhere including shitting on my faves w your bad takes #mfs wanna call M a hero of the ppl who at least cared about the cons when he literally left them for broke on cybertron #i don't think idw M had a good heel-face turn arc bc he didn't really like do anything meaningful in the wider scope of things #what if idw M achieved inner peace by protecting the cons and making sure they had rights post war. how about that #i mean for various reasons the story would've been more complicated than that due to editorial and company mandate bullshit #i just feel as if talking about the story narrative itself IDW M's redemption arc is far from remarkable #except for the fact that JRO dared to do it at all perhaps #(vine voice) that's my OPINION!!!!!

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