#so that one day I can truly one hit a high level enemy
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FINAL WORD OF MARKED FOR DEATH OBTAINED WOOOOO
ALSO BECOME ETERNAL FIRST WORD LEARNED WOOOOO
#Marked for Death os my fav shout#I dont have many#esp many completed one#MfD was the first shout I completed#yeah not Unrelenting Force#Skyrim#Skyrim Switch#Elder Scrolls#Elder Scrolls V#tes#tesv#not ac#I'm gonna do the MfD respawnable enemy exploit#so that one day I can truly one hit a high level enemy#WITH MY FISTS
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You've sucked me into the human kink, I have been bewitched <3 tmi but my new go to spank material is that I'm an adventuring party's precious lil cleric, especially in a group of butch warrior women. I offer full body ;) care and they reward me for my services with orgasms and protection.
With a stoic stone butch Half-Orc ranger serving as our leader, an older playful dwarven woman as our fighter, the party rogue is a surprisingly bashful tiefling, there's a mean hard dom drow lady who is our magical expert wizard, and a dragonborn Paladin of the same deity who can be especially protective.
After a very successful job we all rent a big room in a tavern and they all run a train on me..... okay I'll see myself out
Each time I try to write about cleric reader, i get flashbacks to playing squishy supports in moba games where the enemy runs a train on me under the turrent with my useless adc spamming "sup dif"
Maybe if our jungler wasn't busy sucking the mid off, then they'd have had a bit of time to disway the enemy jungler from blowing my guts. Idk what the top is doing honestly, they're in their own world half of the game. Who are they even fighting? The enemy top is right here under the turrent cucking my adc by wave stallling.
But anyway, cleric human let's go.
Imagine it was originally just you and one of them at the start. A new adventuring team, a half-orc ranger, and her precious human healer who tends to her every need and fawns over her every cut and scar.
The second you walked into that adventuring guild, you didn't even get to have a look around before this intimidation half-orc woman approched you. Her tusks were so big and sharp, het gaze sends chills down your spines and her biceps were easily the size of your head.
It was obvious you were a cleric from the way you dressed. The holy clothes, the innocent attire and the cute necklace with a symbol of your god on it. The spellbook you clutched to so adorably as if it will protect you from the dangers of the world outside.
The second she saw you enter, she knew the others here would be swarming you like flies. Everyone wants a healer but nobody wants to be the healer, everyone wants to be the hero of the story.
Not her tho, she never did this for the fame, glory, or gold. She truly was it in for the betterment of the world, no matter how much her own kind is viewed as evil and self serving, she did not care for what others think of her, she'll gladly crush their skulls with her bare hands.
So she tested you as she stood in front of you, not saying a word and watching your reaction closely. Will you run away from this scary half-orc with tears on your pretty cheeks and go hide behind the first human fighter you could spot?
But no. You didn't. Instead, you've only extended your hand to her with a friendly smile. Introducing yourself and asking for her own name. You also spoke normally, unlike how others, especially elves, tend to talk to her own kind with slow condcending words as if she was a brute who didn't understand basic language.
With her by your side, no one else dared to approach you in the guild hall. She walked you through the process of registering as an adventurer, making sure to explain everything you didn't understand and answer all of your questions. Clearly taking pride in showing off her intelligence as a high level ranger.
That's how the two of you met, and since that day she has been by your side. She was clever and knew how to win fights before they even started, a true warrior of the mind that could trick her enemies into walking straight into traps.
But even then, some fights she had to face head on and take the hits meant for you. She always made you her top priority to protect, even sometimes forsaking the mission for your own safety and carrying you away.
At night, the two of you sit around the fire. Her familiar companion cuddling into her side, with you in her arms as you doze off in the safety of her lap.
Then, eventually, someone else approaches the two of you in the guild after turning in a certain mission. A drow wizard with her expensive looking dress walking towards you with confidence.
Staring the two of you down, her confidence didn't falter even after meeting the half-orc eyes. But she did give a small smile towards you, reaching out and holding your chin in her fingers. Turning your face from side to side as she took in your features in great details.
Your half-orc companion got agitated at this strange woman thinking she had the right to just walk up to and touch you. Almost slapping her hand away, wasn't it for the drow pulling back her hand first.
Her next words, are her announcing the fact she is joining your party, human.
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Faye's Fòdlan Journal: Season 1 - Episode 5: Truly the best Academy
<- Previous Masterpost Next->
As I still slightly suffer from the loss of footage, we get the mission for our second month at Garreg Mach: Wipe out a group of bandits that have taken refuge in the Red Canyon Zanado, led by Kostas.
Yes, that guy Byleth killed twice in the Prologue. Somehow he's still alive. Never thought I'd see the day an earlygame bandit boss would have plot armor.
So, time to go talk to everyone again. As a note in the future, I'll only point out the stuff I think it's interesting. Even if I wanted, I can't include everything due to the 30 image limit.
Am I... getting sassed by a generic NPC?
Oh by the way, here's the combat professor Jeritza. We actually met him last month but he got lost along with the footage.
There is very little to say about him right now, except he really wants to outedge Felix. His two passions are fighting and being alone. Thrilling stuff, let me tell you.
Here we see the first glimpses of what will likely be a major theme in Three Houses: Fòdlan's huge problem of racism and xenophobia. It's going to get ugly fast, especially in the case of Duscur.
Here I learn how recruiting students from other houses (and eventually other professors and knights) works: You have to reach a certain threshold on the things they require, be that Byleth's level or a specific stats, or even their rank with a particular weapon. You can still gain support conversations with them, and those lower the requirements for recruiting them. And since Bernie wants a high Bow rank, I will spend the following chapters trying to train Byleth in it. Luckily we have unlocked Faculty Training, which lets Byleth take lessons from the other professors in a specific skill whenever they have activity points to spare. Which unfortunately at this point is not often the case.
Similarly I got interested in recruiting Leonie since she seems so close to Jeralt (although to be honest I thought she was lying at first because certainly Byleth would know her if that was the case, right? Even more proof there's more going on between the two), and she requires a high Lance rank, so that will also be a priority.
And while I know I can potentially recruit everyone and crowd the Blue Lions class like crazy, I will be limiting myself to an extra students from each of the other two houses to preserve the experience. Besides, this game lets you deploy 12 units at most.
Speaking of Blue Lions: Hi, Felix.
If I didn't know any better I'd just think he's being a dick as usual and don't get me wrong, he is. But given how Dimitri turns up at the start of the timeskip... there may be a hint of truth in what he's saying.
AT TIMES, Ingrid!?
Anyway, moving on. This month Jeralt gives us some battallions, an exclusive of this game: To put it simply, they grant the unit that equips one extra stats depending on the battallion which can be upgraded up to Lv5 simply by using it. Things like extra Attack, Hit/Crit/Avo, Def/Res and so on. For now the gains aren't much, but they will become way more significant when we gain higher rank battallions.
The main thing battallions grant, though, is Gambits.
Think of them as the precursor of Engage attacks: Most of them let you hit multiple enemies at once without risk of counterattack (the type and AOE depends on the battallion), and if you manage to hit , all of the enemies in that area will not only be damaged, but also be frozen in place and have their stats lowered. You can also use them whenever.
But compared to Engage Attacks, not only are they not guaranteed to hit (the chance to either hit or avoid a Gambit depends entirely on Charm, a stat unique to this game), they can also only kill the enemy directly targeted by it. And they also not replenishable until the end of the month. Regardless, they are still incredibly useful.
A few days later Byleth gives their first lecture to the class, and once again makes an embarassment out of the Academy by not even knowing how to teach and having Dimitri explain it.
The fact that the house leaders give the tutorials for teaching instead of the staff is hilarious. The most esteemed Academy in Fòdlan and they don't even brief or tutor their new staff and have the students do it instead. Rhea please.
Well, I wouldn't say it's inaccurate. I know on my first day of work I got dumped right onto it with absolutely zero guidance or directions so... yeah, that unfortunately checks out. Three Houses takes place in Italy confirmed.
Anyway, before the mission itself we have a mandatory training battle where we have to beat up some church soldiers. Not much to say.
No Dimitri. No they do not. And this is something they should know as a mercenary, but Jeralt says he never taught them much of tactics.
Seriously, what did Jeralt even teach Byleth beside wielding a sword? This is why homeschooling is bad, everyone.
With all that said and done, it's the end of the month. And that means it's time to beat up some bandits.
Also enjoy this Rhea screenshot. I didn't know where else to put it, but her pose is really cute. She's so excited!
<- Previous Masterpost Next->
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THROBB FORTNIGHT Fic Recs: Days 11-14
Day 11: First Kiss
Hold on to your heart by saltywench / @salty-wench (T, 1k)
A cute fic for a cute trope! This is the good old "your more experienced crush teaches you about kissing and you end up kissing for read." Robb is adorable in this, with all his inexperienced insecurity and you get the sense that Theon knows exactly what he's doing, starting from flirting with girls in front of Robb's salad to begin with.
Day 12: Soulmates AU
Keepsake by ThyCannoli (M, 9k)
This is a brilliantly written and heart-wrenching fic! The Soulmates part is mostly important because it allows Robb and Theon to share dreams and meet even before Theon gets to Winterfell. Told through their meetings in the dreamscape of their dreams, the whimsical and often metaphorical nature of the setting really allows to highlight their feelings and tensions, taking us through the development of their relationship and all it's ups and downs. It's a canon-compliant fic, so the ending is, of course, painful, but also bittersweet in a way that feels nostalgic and fulfilling and cathartic. This is a fic really stayed with me, even though I read it first a pretty long time ago. (Show canon, but with some book-canon elements.)
Day 13: Friends to Lovers to Enemies to Lovers
Android Dreams and Electric Sheep by VagrantWriter (M, 43k)
And now for something rather different… This is a scifi/far future type AU in which Robb repairs high-level, human-like AIs and Theon is…well, an AI. You know, one of those AI/human romance novels? This is it. And, frankly, it's a real page-turner, as most things by VagrantWriter. I admit, I was cautious in picking it up. I'm very into canon-verse and when I read AUs I'm picky about the characters needing to feel like themselves, etc. And then AI romances aren't normally my thing. And yet I'm very happy I gave it a chance, because it's a truly touching short romance novel, that really does go through this entire arch of slow burn to "betrayal" to reunion, and the AI/non-human aspect is handled very well and interestingly. Robb's characterization is very sympathetic and I think the way Theon is handled in these circumstances is original and compelling in its own way.
Day 14: Reunions
i will carry you to freedom by MayWilder (M, 2k)
Robb and Theon's reunion in a No Defection AU where Theon does go to Pyke, but ends up choosing Robb. It's passionate, it's desperate, it's angsty, but also very corny and romantic as well - all the tropes bundled up into one wish-fulfilling concoction. These are always a bit hit or miss for me, because I feel it can be difficult to manage a line where the narrative is not too dismissive or humiliating to Theon. This fic is very romantic and full of desperate loyalty kink, yes, but I also really enjoyed how genuinely appreciative Robb is of Theon's sacrifice and that he understands that he ought to be "worth it" rather than this being something automatically owed him.
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The Arcade Games of 1980 #5: Missile Command
If you thought Pac-Man was a fluke and we weren't in the golden age of arcade games yet, hoo boy, think again. Atari may not have impressed me a lot in recent times, but they clap back in some STYLE here.
Don't let the black background fool you, this game is not quite set in space. It did confuse me at first since it looks like you're defending Mars colonies rather than the Earth, but no, the cities you protect were actually supposed to be ones located in California. Which does add a bit of intensity when you think about it.
That's how I would describe the game best: Intense. The game doesn't sugarcoat, being *very* in your face about losing if you don't nab a high score. As soon as you hit the 2x multiplier, missiles come flying at you from all angles and depending on your skill level, your game can be over in the span of 90 seconds. Doesn't mean it's unfair, just that it's faster paced that you may be used to at this point in time.
Which is good! The speed of rounds makes the game incredibly replayable and you don't have to stick around to the slow stages for nearly as long. Blowing stuff up is always a hoot, especially with the large explosions this game hands you. You can make things easier for yourself too, flipping a DIP Switch gives you a city in reserve. The further you get, the higher the multiplier and the more ridiculous your score becomes if you hang on for a bit longer.
I don't have a ton of fluff to ramble on about this time. This is an excellent time and well worth your quarters/purchase of an Atari compilation. Even if it's yet another shooter game- damn I can't escape them can I?
The Verdict
Graphics (8): 8-bit decency that looks perfect for the early Famicom/NES days. It gets especially cool when there's a lot going on, with all those explosion vortexes and whatnot. The game over screen knows how to spook an unassuming player- big letters that yell 'THE END' at ya while the background flashes red. May have given small children nightmares, fits with the cold war theming.
Sound (8): Oooh, punchy, I like it! A lot of the bleeps and detonation noises aren't new, but they were updated to sound less sharp on the ears in the former's case, and more realistic in the latter's. Once again, fits with the scenario you've found yourself in. Can't deny I adore the randomly generated glitchy jingle when you get an extra city, too. A controlled cacophony that I can't get enough of.
Fun Factor (9): Brilliantly chaotic and replayable. Rounds are snappy, the controls are accurate *enough* that I don't find myself too upset when I miss, and there's also the twinge of strategy involved as well- what enemy do you focus on and what sacrifices need to be made? One of the least flawed feeling games yet. 'Polished af', as my informal self would say.
Longevity (9): Cuz rounds are so short, you can argue that reaching the final new aspects (6x multiplier at the 11th screen, no more background color changes some time later) won't take as long as it would with Pac-Man, however you'd be surprised. If you don't get a bit lucky with how the missiles fly towards your cities in the middle stages and don't have super fast access to multitasking, you could be stuck on this one for a very very long time. And you still would wanna play it afterwards, as with the other classics of the era.
My own max was the 7th screen for reference, past the point of new mechanics but well short of truly expert play.
In Conclusion
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HEADCANON 006. CESSATION OF EXISTENCE
Do you ever stop and think that the world as we know it may end, and we never know when? That all of our hard-earned achievements, in the end, mean nothing to the darkness enveloping oneself, truly rendering everything meaningful to us void?
I think that Sampo has. Multiple times.
This phylosophy has, by now, become something he has accepted, even embraced- it must be an important thing to believe in the upcoming void, if one wants to join the Masked Fools.
Again, referencing this post- the followers of Aha remind me of the Bacchaes, Dyonisus's followers. Less extreme- because we have yet to see one of the MFs commit heinous acts in-game, but if they ever do... ehe...
I think that Sampo has thoughts on the concept that all life will disappear in the void, one day- and it depends on his mood, on how many personal connections he makes- on his earnings, when he's in a stellar mood because of a scam of his that just worked.
On the good days, it puts him in a very chipper mood- that it doesn't matter how many enemies he makes and how angry they are at him: he will be enjoying himself with their hard-earned cash. He'll buy himself things that he enjoys, or perfect his disguises with it in order to keep his entertainment levels high. The funnier the scamming was, the better! The more he gains from him, the more enjoyment he can get from the spoils! That it's temporary matters none, because in the end it brought him enjoyment, was worth the trouble and gave him a good laugh.
The ruin that he brings upon the idiots he scams is temporary, after all- there are things that he will pursue for his own delight, and he'll find these people putting actual effort into chasing him down, tearing their own hair out, funny and meaningless- the world is destined to end, one day! You can't really waste your energies on Sampo Koski playing a trick or two on you!
For him, it's actually a degree of comforting knowing that he doesn't have to seek real redemption for his action, that he doesn't have to put effort into it. First, he doesn't want to redeem of anything- and second, he doesn't need it. The twisted comfort that he will, one day, simply cease to be- painlessly ( will it be painless? it'd be bliss if it was ) swallowed by the black tar of the universe. Nothing that he will have achieved will matter, none of his material possessions will follow him- there will be nothing left, simply nothingness. In a way, Sampo is almost tiepid about it: he doesn't anticipate it with the same degree of devoted enthusiasm as some of his fellows, but knows it will come, one day.
And then... then, he has a bad day, and it hits him. It hits him when he lets his brain wander a little too much instead of keeping it grounded.
It reminds him of the earlier days where he was a newly joined Masked Fool- overthinking, and lots of it. Embracing Aha, but also wracking his brain thinking about how this is so, so enormous- the void! For fuck's sake, the nothingness that will nullify Sampo Koski- everything that he has ever done, anyone he has ever loved, anything that he has ever earned and owned- will be just gone like that.
On the worst headspace, the approaching nothingness feels suffocating; a battle he cannot win, an approaching sense of impending doom.
In these days, he feels like he's split into two entities- one little, pathetic and fearful man, on his hands and knees on the floor as another person casts a shadow over him, voice full of contempt and pity.
so silly of you to ooze desperation like this! if you're destined to end- what's so bad about that, hmmm? peaceful darkness, cast over you like a theather's curtain, that's what it is! a good performance must have an end- even the most skilled actor can't keep it going forever.
And, upon looking up- he sees a lacquered, smiling mask donned over his own face, staring back at him with a whimsical, painted-on smile.
That's when he takes a deep breath, and takes the mask back from the doppelganger.
Nothing much he can do about it, anyway.
#( OOC. ) ━ ANYWAY; moving onto another world...#( HEADCANONS. ) ━ an in-depth guide to THE CONMAN.#i've been wanting to write about this for such a long time..... could never put all of this in good writing but i can now c:#controversial topics like this deserve some insight
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Shining Force World Book translation - part 2
Previous part here
I was a bit too harsh in saying this book didn’t have new backstory info compared to the other one, it does have some new stuff for Gong, and Arthur in the next part, since it found something else to say about the guy besides the horrors of a male individual touching laundry.
Of course, it still found other ways to be sexist.
Mage who quietly manipulates flames
Tao
Class: Mage
Species: Elf
Gender: Female
Age: 48 years old
Height: 178 cm
Weight: 45 kg
Place of Origin: Guardiana
Starting Level: 1
Starting Weapon: Wooden Staff
A quiet lady who swore loyalty to Guardiana
She was a maid at Guardiana, but her talent was recognized and she began practicing magic with Princess Anri. After Anri left to study in Manarina, she became the only mage in the castle.
Tao's personality is the opposite of Anri's, she's quiet and keeps her feelings to herself. Also, she's exceptionally polite. It's also an opposite personality to that of her sister Diane, who joins the force later on.
An useful character who can play attacking and supporting roles as needed
She has unusually high HP for a mage, but her defense is low as expected. You don't want her taking hits from the enemies.
Her magic skills are somewhat unique compared to the other mages. Her only offensive spells are fire ones. Restricted to only this line of magic, she excels in it. Besides that, she learns plenty of support magic that others cannot use.
___
Prideful member of the Royal Order of Knights
Mae
Class: Knight
Species: Centaur
Gender: Female
Age: 22 years old
Height: 197 cm
Weight: 178 kg
Place of Origin: Guardiana
Starting Level: 2
Starting Weapon: Bronze Lance
Closed off in a wall of pride, a brave woman who can't be honest
A typical centaur. They are already arrogant in general, and with her also being the daughter of Knight Captain Varios, her pride truly knows no bounds.
She was prejudiced against the protagonist, who had superior swordsmanship skills despite being from the inferior human race. Once they had to fight in the same team, she finally began to accept him. It's not typical of her to honestly accept others.
Spare no effort in raising her as your main fighting power
As expected of a girl, she's good at walking around. Since her movement and agility are superb, you want to use her for swift attacks. Her attack and defense are low, so have her advance alongside plenty of teammates. Because she grows steadily, she's sure to become a vital member of the force. Her HP growth is slow, but her initial HP is high so there isn't much reason for worry.
[obligatory eyeroll at the joke there]
Kind old man who loves his family
Gort
Class: Warrior
Species: Dwarf
Gender: Male
Age: 233 years old
Height: 142 cm
Weight: 97 kg
Place of Origin: Guardiana
Starting Level: 2
Starting Weapon: Hand Axe
Starting a new leaf and letting go of the past
He used to be a warrior of the kingdom. His strength was number one, and his name was well known throughout the land. Currently he is retired, and lives with his daughter, granddaughter, and dog. However, he cannot forget the glories of the past, and lives his days drinking and grumbling at the bar.
When Runefaust killed his family, he realized he could do nothing by himself. With that revelation, he joined the force.
With outstanding sturdiness, he runs at the very front
Because his attack and defense are high, you should use him to break through the enemy lines. He lacks agility but his movement is great, so he can still advance quickly.
He grows steadily as he levels up, but his defense in particular rises quickly. Since he becomes exceptionally sturdy, you can have him lead the force in the very front, or use him as a decoy.
____
Traveling priest with a past
Gong
Class: Monk
Species: Giant
Gender: Male
Age: 57 years old
Height: 248 cm
Weight: 203 kg
Place of Origin: Depths of Sirius Mountain
Starting Level: 1
Starting Weapon: None
A man who severed ties with his race, training his spirit
A trainee monk in a journey to train his body and spirit. Along his journey he meets the protagonist and joins the force.
Being quiet, polite, and honest, he is well trusted by his allies. In the past, he lived his days plundering and pillaging as it is typical of giants, but started to reform after a certain incident. Becoming a monk was also a form of atonement.
Be on your guard while low leveled
Having trained his body along his spirit, he is more resistant and powerful than the priests, however he can only use basic healing spells. Also, while his attack is exceptionally high, he fights bare handed and ends up being weaker than the other warriors. His defense is also lower than that of the priests at first, so he shouldn't be at the front. Let him take part in standard battles to raise his level to a good point.
[Some notes: Most of the text and the game's class refers to him as モンク, which is just katakana for the english "monk". The page title however does use 僧侶 (souryo), which is usually the word used the priest class, but can be translated as monk as well. I could have translated it as monk for consistency but i like to make it clear that these terms overlap a lot in the Shining world, even if the gameplay part will then discuss him as distinct from the priests.
Also, the country guide later on will show that his place of origin, Sirius Mountain, is to the north of Prompt in East Rune.]
Girl with a heart of gold
Khris
Class: Priest
Species: Cantaul
Gender: Female
Age: 17 years old
Height: 174 cm
Weight: 38 kg
Place of Origin: Alterone
Starting Level: 2
Starting Weapon: Wooden Staff
A mild mannered person who keeps to herself
A priest who worked as a close aide to the princess of Alterone. She's an ordinary kind of girl, though unusually reserved. Out of everyone in the force, she resembles Tao the most, but she's even more timid. Being shy has always been her nature, but being constantly tormented by the cruel princess drove her to becomes even more withdrawn recently. She's incredibly meek.
Let her run through the battlefield restoring HP
She learns magic unusually fast, becoming capable of using high level spells faster than the other priests. Like Lowe, she learns both healing and support magic, but is better at healing than Lowe. She can learn both the single target healing spell Heal and the mass healing spell Aura.
She has no agility, so she tends to be the last to act in each turn.
____
Beautiful princess with regal demeanor
Anri
Class: Mage
Species: Human
Gender: Female
Age: 18 years old
Height: 158 cm
Weight: 42 kg
Place of Origin: Guardiana
Starting Level: 3
Starting Weapon: Power Stick
The kind that surpress her feelings and acts with reason
The princess of Guardiana. As the firstborn, she's the first in line to inherit the throne. She has a talent for magic rare among the people of Guardiana, and went to study in Manarina.
As the heir to the throne, she's brave, and smart as well. Without letting herself be carried away by her emotions, she comes to lead the Shining Force alongside the protagonist.
She saves allies in a pinch with offensive magic
A mage skilled in all types of offensive magic. Particularly skilled in cold magic, to the point where no one compares to her on that.
She can assist others, and is even better to breach the enemy lines herself. However, her defense is incredibly low, and so is her HP, so she has no resistance to enemy attacks. She should attack while behind someone else.
[I had already heard that this guide was worded vaguely and left unclear if she has siblings. The other guide however clarifies that she’s an only child.]
#shining force#shining series#sf tao#sf mae#sf gong#sf gort#sf khris#sf anri#shining force world book#90's game writer being punched by a horse girl at 66km per hour: women... *cough hack* be shopping *dies*#putting that aside there's something so ironically amusing at their worldbuilding on giants here#because it's just the terrible *bad savage race* trope#but the thing is? every other giant in the series will continue to be another chill monk. no exceptions#you don't even get enemy giants#and the peak of all this: cray and his sister in sfcd are actually victims of a raid???#like. okay then!#this series is constantly fighting between being a generic fantasy setting and something much wackier#that it often fails at both#but sometimes failing at being typical fantasy is good actually#on a more personal note though this opens many questions about gong#because he cut ties with family apparently but he does get a close nephew in sfcd#i need answers#funniest part is that i usually wouldn't be surprised at things that contradict other games in series#it's like the typical tao/diane thing that clearly wasn't defined at the time or there was disagreement among the writers#unlike the last book though. this one was edited by hiroyuki takahashi himself#and it is mentioned that another game was already in the works. likely the first gaiden#so man did they lose control of the lore fast. mess% speedrun
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Those Warm and Halcyon Days: Chapter 71
Lady of Deceit
Ao3.
First, Previous, Next.
Story under read-more.
Arianrhod, the Silver Maiden.
Veery doesn’t think it looks much like a silver maiden. The towering walls are stark white, like snow, not silver, and the fortress is certainly no maiden.
Wait. Oh, that’s why it’s called a maiden. And here Veery thought Fódlanders were all prudes. Certain individuals excepting, of course. Well, maiden or no, it’s about time it’s been penetrated one way or another.
Veery wants to see those pristine walls come down.
“Sadi?”
“No sign of the Degradation. Not that I can feel, anyway. I guess Cornelia is changing tactics.”
“Or maybe those machines are too expensive to produce so quickly,” Linhardt hums thoughtfully. “And any shipment of supplies from their base to create those things is one more opportunity to track them. Still, you all should be careful. She’ll have something up her sleeve.”
“After Fhirdiad,” Sadi says grimly, “I believe it.”
They look out to Arianrhod in the distance with unease. Large arms wrap over Veery’s shoulders, shaking with explosive purring. “She will not escape again,” Hoarvug says, nuzzling into Veery’s hair.
Of course, she won’t. They won’t let her. Arianrhod is meant to be impregnable, but today? Today it’s a trap. And Cornelia has slithered right into it. There’s nowhere left to run.
When Claude calls for the assault to begin and their army starts for the walls, all Veery can think is that it’s about damn time.
Rewarp in, kill the guard, Rewarp out to avoid the boiling oil from being poured on his head. There are only so many times he can successfully pull that off. Rewarp isn’t as easy as it looks.
Fire descends from the sky onto the walls of the Silver Maiden. Meteor. In return, lightning strikes from cloudless skies, cutting down advancing soldiers.
Siege mages? Interesting. They’ll have to be taken out fast.
The gates are a good opening, but too narrow. They’re a funnel draining their army to their deaths. They need another way in, and they need to do it fast before the archers and siege mages on the walls do too much more damage.
Veery growls under the rising haze of dirt and ash obscuring the air in the battle. He’s carefully maintaining his distance, close enough to the wall that the archers and siege mages attack past him, but not close enough to get hit by the oil and rocks they dump down the walls.
As the air gets dirtier, the glistening white stone walls of the Silver Maiden grey, and suddenly “silver” makes much more sense. It’s not named for its appearance in peace time.
Where the hell is Claude?
Almost the moment he has the thought, Claude makes his move. The longest-ranged fighters in their army – the most skilled snipers and distance mages – draw the attention of the defenders on the wall. Though fighting on an open field, they make use of the enemy’s own destruction and move through the dust and smoke to obscure themselves and force the enemy to waste time looking for them. They fire indiscriminately, of course, and take out too much of the resistance’s vanguard, but notable targets, the special units and generals that truly turn the tide of battle, elude them.
In that moment of distraction, looking for the mages and archers capable of threatening them even high atop those walls, Claude and Seteth’s teams of wyvern knights swoop in to attack.
But that’s just another distraction. An opening for Lysithea and Lorenz.
Arianrhod is supposed to be impregnable, is it? Well, the same was said about Fort Merceus, and the Agarthans levelled it. Under normal circumstances, the Deer might not have firepower on par with the javelins of light, but that doesn’t mean they aren’t inspired.
With shield cover and the distraction of the wyvern knights, Ordelia troops push carts with barrels and barrels of explosives resting on them. Black powder, partly, partly a substance of Lysithea and Linhardt’s own making, and partly some noxious materials that Claude provides, which is the primary purpose of this.
Fitted right up against the silver brick walls, the soldiers quickly clear away, putting as much distance between them and the barrels as possible.
“Linhardt, Annette! Prepare yourselves!” Lysithea’s shout comes from closer than Veery expects. He risks a glance over to see her take Thyrsus from Lorenz’ hands and point it at the barrels. “Clear the path!” she shouts. Everyone sees her with the glowing Relic and scrambles out of the way.
Under normal circumstances, nothing can possibly breach the walls of the Silver Maiden. But Lysithea, ordinarily overflowing with magical power, wielding a Hero’s Relic of all things like she is born with it, is by no means a normal circumstance.
What erupts from the end of Thyrsus looks, at first, like little more than a gout of flame, but as it surges through the air it compounds on itself, intensifying, jumping in arcs and splashing like molten liquid rather than pure flame. It hits the barrels and bursts.
It is the closest thing to Celica’s Ragnarök Veery imagines he’ll ever see again. The javelins of light come close, but where they are more similar in destruction, this is more similar in flame. The explosion is earth-shaking, throwing people from their feet, even some people off the top of the walls. Fire consumes all, like a hungry beast chasing down prey, and sturdy pillars of white smoke rise up to engulf what’s left of the rampart above in a wave of toxic gas.
The wyvern knights in the area, aware of the gas, quickly escape, but the soldiers stationed to defend the wall are not so lucky.
Annette and Linhardt, commanding teams of wind mages, conjure up a gale that fans the flame into a vortex and blows the noxious smoke into Arianrhod, away from their own army. And when their winds have cleared up the smoke enough to see, there is a large, burning hole in the walls of the impregnable fortress.
Wind mages stationed all around the fortress take their cue and begin their own magic, until they have the smoke spiraling within the walls of the Silver Maiden and not outside. Anyone inside is going to have to breathe it in, all while those outside are protected from it.
It’s genius, really, though not a popular plan. The Knights of Seiros and the Kingdom in particular argue against using the poison as a weapon. Catherine calls it cowardly, Rodrigue calls it dishonorable, but both concede without any other ideas when Claude points out that Arianrhod’s reputation is not without cause.
(They only allow it because there should be no civilians remaining in Arianrhod. They should long be evacuated by now.)
This fortress stands unblemished for hundreds of years. How satisfying it is to witness those walls crumble. Let those who hide behind those walls suffocate in the smoke. The Silver Maiden will come crashing down like an avalanche.
When faced with something that cannot be done by conventional means, they must approach it unconventionally. This is why Claude is Veery’s favorite human. Terrifying to be sure, but his favorite, nonetheless.
Trap triggered, their army simply sits back and waits. It’s not long before the Empire is streaming out the gates. What once was a choke point to funnel resistance troops to their deaths is now a funnel for the Imperial ones. Choking, wheezing from lungs full of air that will not satisfy, they can’t even put up much of a fight.
The torrent of soldiers trying to escape the fortress quickly turns into a stream, and then a trickle, and then stops. Claude barks for them to hold positions. Annette warns that, even rotating teams, the wind mages can’t keep this up forever.
A hulking figure moves beyond the shadows of the flaming hole in the wall, and the bodies piled up against it.
“Titanus!” someone shouts.
“Clear skies, everyone!” Claude shouts. “Relics to the front! Take down that Titanus; open the path! We’re going in!”
With a phenomenal push, the wind mages summon a whipping, stinging wind which nearly carries Veery off his feet. It surges around them like water and disperses the remaining smoke to be harmless in a moment.
Felix and Sylvain make first contact with the Titanus. Maintaining a wind to protect them from the still-burning remains of the barrels, Annette covers them. Mercedes almost knocks the Titanus over with a Bolganone spell at its feet, and Ashe’s arrows bounce harmlessly off its exterior, but give Sylvain and Felix the openings they need to storm through.
Sylvain’s Relic being a weapon, he can actually damage the thing. Even the Lance of Ruin doesn’t rip through the Titanus’ metal skin like it would anything else, but it chips off enough that Felix, precise and deadly, with a shield of his own to ward off the Titanus’ counterattacks, can shut the thing down for good.
Considering Veery’s first encounter with a Titanus at Fhidiad and his… explosive resolution of it, the Lions make it look easy.
Then again, they all got very good very quickly at fighting demonic beasts, too. Speaking of, why aren’t there any here? Adrestia is using them in every battle, but Veery hasn’t seen one either in Fhirdiad or here in Arianrhod.
He has an unsettling feeling that he has something to do with that. Physiologically, the demonic beasts and the agell are the same. In Fhirdiad, Cornelia tries to turn him into a demonic beast. It’s possible that putting any into the battle with those machines running would send them out of control – more of a liability for her side than a help if she can’t maintain control over them. That’s why she uses the metal Titanus instead.
But there is none of that Degradation here in Arianrhod, so why? What does she still have up her sleeve? Or does she just prefer the Titanus over the demonic beasts?
Veery enters the fortress. Resistance soldiers at his side, Cult of the Cat Saint, he thinks, balk and freeze. They walk past the piles of bloodied corpses at the entrance, but the scattered remains in here give them pause? Stupid.
Not that it isn’t a grisly scene. It reminds Veery just how horrible a way to die suffocation is. These soldiers are all – mostly, he thinks – still breathing, still alive, just unconscious, but that does little for the image that confronts him.
Not a soul stirs. Bodies everywhere. The story told by their locations. The people who tried to leave through the hole or the gates are piled dead at those apertures, but plenty of people also try to climb the wall. Some are broken at the bottom; some merely lie at rest below the bloody scratches they make while weakly grasping for life.
Some bodies clutching others, though those are rarer. Many appear as if their hands have fallen from their throats. A few have bruises or streaming blood around their necks where they grab and claw for breath.
They were scared.
Good. They should be. Veery steps over a prone man, whose arm is outstretched for the gate, to join the Lions past the bulk of the bodies.
Being surrounded by walls like these again, Veery wonders how the soldiers here don’t see this coming. Walls like that are only good for keeping things locked inside, not keeping things out. The Silver Maiden was never a fortress. It’s a cage.
He curls his lip in disgust. More. Tear more of it down. A paltry little hole is satisfying, but not enough.
“There’s no way such a simple trick worked on Cornelia,” Linhardt says when he joins them. “And Arianrhod has many war mages who could have protected a wide area. I’m sure the central fortifications are still nearly fully manned.”
“But we’ve gotten inside the walls,” Ashe says, determinedly not looking at the bodies around them. “Now it’s just one more push to Cornelia and we can free Faerghus.”
Sylvain rounds his horse to face inside, towards the central fort Linhardt points out. He looks over to Veery and, with a wink, says, “You and me, Veery. Let’s ride ahead.”
“Not too far,” Felix warns. “Don’t overextend to where we can’t support you, even if you don’t see any enemies around.”
“Yeah, yeah.” Sylvain waves him off. “Come on, Veery. Let’s go see what we’re dealing with.”
Who is he to protest? Veery takes off running, Sadi and Hoarvug on his tail, chasing after Sylvain’s galloping horse.
Though more scattered further from the walls, bodies still lie everywhere. It’s a painful reminder to Veery just how many people are here. How many people must die. The sad thing is, he’s used to it now. He’s used to ignoring the corpses, walking past dead bodies of more people than he knows in the world, more than he knows exists in the world (because despite seeing it so much he still can’t get these kinds of numbers to solidify in his head), in each battle.
When there are people like the agell and like the Brigidans, who are so few that they are not sure they will survive to see the future, scenes like this are sickening for more than just the gore and death itself. (And this scene, as he races through Arianrhod, lacks even the gore. If not for the desperate poses these people slump in, they would seem merely at peace.)
What a waste of life. Albinea, Brigid, they know that life is too precious a resource to waste like this. It’s the callousness, not the death, which sinks its claws deep into Veery’s heart and refuses to let him look away. The gall of forcing a war, creating these scenes, and insisting that this is better.
“Titanus,” Sylvain says, rearing to a halt and squinting up at the central fortress. “Two. Plus Linhardt was right, this place is still manned. It looks like Cornelia withdrew what troops she could to defend this place and abandoned the rest of the fort.” Sylvain frowns, examining the situation with a critical eye. He points to the top of the central building. “Cornelia must be up there. Her own little tower. We could try to get to her with fliers, but there has to be archers up there. Probably a ballista, too. But what concerns me the most is that.”
Veery follows Sylvain’s fingers to a banner held high over the forces at the base of the central building. It’s not a banner Veery recognizes.
“That’s the banner of House Rowe,” Sylvain explains. “Which means Gwendal, the Gray Lion, is down there. Him, plus two Titanus?” Sylvain sighs heavily. “Whoever leads that assault is going to have a hard time of it.”
Gusts of wind and the roar of wingbeats announce Claude landing nearby. He dismounts and joins the pair of them in examining the enemy forces. “We can’t take forever,” Claude says wearily. “The soldiers throughout the rest of the fortress will only sleep for so long. Thoughts?”
Sylvain repeats his observations for Claude, who nods sagely. Veery meows. “Right,” Claude says, just as Professor Byleth and most of the others, including the rest of the Lions, arrive. “Facing Gwendal and the Titanus in open battle will take time we don’t have. Which means we have to get a strike force past them to get to Cornelia right away.”
“I’ll go,” Teach says.
“No, Teach,” Claude says, “you’ll be needed to fight those Titanus. Plus, I want our troops rallying around you in the thick of the battle. The Lions should go after Cornelia.”
“And Veery,” Felix says.
Claude purses his lips for a moment, looking to Veery for his opinion, and nods his assent. “Only if you’re sure you won’t do anything reckless,” he says. “I know this is the woman who orchestrated Caub’s death, and tried to assassinate you, but you have to stay focused.”
Veery yowls in protest. He knows that. He doesn’t need to be reminded. As if he’d let something as stupid as revenge kill him. He is going to avenge Caub, but it’s going to be incidental at best. As he tells Linhardt, Cornelia needs to die for a lot more, and much more pressing, reasons than what she does to Caub.
“Fine,” Claude says. “The Lions and Veery will infiltrate the central fortress. Ashe, you think you can get the back door open?”
“Can I?” Ashe laughs. “I can do you one better. Arianrhod is the seat of House Rowe. Did you know Yuri is actually Count Rowe’s adopted son? He told me where to find a secret tunnel that’ll let us get in there. The entrance is still within the walls, so it wouldn’t have helped in the initial assault, but to get to Cornelia, it might be perfect.”
Claude shakes his head, but smiles. “That sneaky bastard. To think I had no idea. Well, that just makes this easier then. Lions, Veery, follow Ashe to this secret tunnel. Take out Cornelia, then signal us when it’s safe for the fliers to approach.”
“Understood.”
“Teach, you’re leading the battle at the base of the fort. Take Rodrigue and Catherine and their forces and stage a full-scale attack. The bigger the better. We want all eyes away from the Lions. Seteth and I will organize the flying forces and try to keep the Titanus distracted until you can take them down.
“Everyone understand?” A round of confirmation. “Good. Remember, we have to do this quickly before the rest of the fortress wakes up. Everyone stay alive, and stay flexible. I’ll see you all again soon.”
He hops back onto his white wyvern and takes off, and with no further fanfare, Veery and his team split off to follow the Lions through the fortress. No crowds, no backup, just what remains of the Blue Lion class and the three agell.
Sylvain leaves his horse, so they’re all on foot. They creep through the streets, ignoring the cacophony not far away of the battle beginning.
“This is it,” Ashe says, kneeling at the horizontal doors of an unremarkable cellar. In a few quiet moments, he’s picked the lock and swinging the doors open. Everyone files in.
Ashe closes the door behind them with a soft thud, shutting out all light save for a tiny sliver through the cracks. Veery can see fine, but Annette and Mercedes both conjure light to their palms, so he supposes it’s pretty dark down here.
It’s also just a cellar. There are food stores down here, and it smells like rats. Probably rations for if Arianrhod is put under siege instead of assaulted outright. But Ashe hurries over to one of the brick walls and, knocking carefully on the bricks, finds what he’s looking for. “The tunnel has been bricked over,” Ashe says quietly, only gently breaking the stuffy silence of the cellar. “We’re going to have to go through the wall, but I think it’s right… here. It shouldn’t be too hard to break down. It’s made to be, after all.”
Hoarvug pads up, brushing past Ashe, who yelps and takes a step back, and rears up. With a mighty push, Hoarvug comes down on the weak part of the wall, falling right through it as if it’s paper instead of brick.
Crumbling brick causes a ruckus, and the dust that flies up sends all of them into coughing fits, but the tunnel is open.
“Well,” Ashe says, “that’s… one way to do it. Let’s hurry. Who knows if someone heard that on the other side?”
Right. Small, dusty tunnel. Lovely. Veery has no problem with small spaces, but he’s going to be spending all night trying to clean his fur, isn’t he?
Then again, it’s not like the blood and ash is any better. He doesn’t really have room to complain.
Felix takes the front and Sylvain the back and the rest of them creep through the narrow tunnel between them, but they don’t encounter any problems within the tunnel itself. The plan works. They come out somewhere inside the central fort, in an ordinary-looking bedroom, and quickly make their way up to the roof.
When they finally push out into the sunlight, spilling across the roof surrounded by enemies, Veery sees, for the very first time, Cornelia.
At first, he doubts it’s her, and thinks her just another mage stationed here, but she gives quick orders and smiles sinisterly at them, obviously preparing a few words before, she thinks, having the soldiers around her executing them where they stand.
Everything Veery hears about Cornelia point to her being a strikingly beautiful, mature woman, but the person Veery sees in front of his is neither beautiful nor mature. She is hideous in all the ways that humans are, and yes, her fair skin is smooth, and her face is even, but to Veery she just looks pale and cruel.
She looks just like Solon. Like Kronya. There is nothing beautiful about her.
“My, my,” she says, teasing sing-song voice grating to everyone, “the little Lions have come to play. What charming guests. Let me take care of you.”
All at once, they leap into battle. Felix on one side, Annette supporting him from behind, Sylvain on the other, with Ashe and Mercedes taking out the ranged fighters threatening him. Sadi and Hoarvug stream around Veery, ready with him to go wherever he pounces.
“We’ll hold them off!” Annette shouts. “Cornelia is the priority!”
Understood. Veery advances on Cornelia.
She grins, having entirely too much fun with three agell bearing down on her. “Here, kitty, kitty…” she hums. “Did you enjoy my last toy?” She giggles. “You know, you really are quite the pain,” her voice changes, sharper like knives. “You should have succumbed to the Degradation and turned on your little friends, but you somehow manage to turn things around every time.”
Yeah, Veery isn’t going to waste time listening to her monologuing. He pounces. Cornelia is fast, though, and shields herself with some kind of magic.
She sneers at him and his companions. “Even our best attempts to destroy you have only given you a cult! Honestly, these worms will believe in anything. But you… you just keep causing trouble.”
What, like it’s his fault? He recalls doing his level best to avoid both trouble and the stupid cult.
When she tries next to shield herself with magic, Veery uses Silence on her. The lash whips back into him, and he falls prone, but he holds strong, stoppering up Cornelia’s magic with everything he has, and briefly succeeds, though she still slithers out of the way of Sadi and Hoarvug’s attacks.
“But you beasts, you lowest of beasts,” Cornelia growls. “Your kind is only good for one thing. The Degradation. It’s inevitable, you know. So why don’t you just give in to it already?”
Is she… no, Veery doesn’t think he’s being affected by one of her machines. What is she talking about, then?
Cackling, Cornelia pulls something from underneath her robes. A small box with a button atop it. “The fell beast… what power do you truly have? Without transforming, you’re nothing. As your kind has always been. That’s why I’ve got a new gift for you. I hope you like it.” She grins and, with a flourish, presses the button.
For a tense second, nothing happens. Then, Veery gasps. Like a wyvern slamming into him, something hits him. It knocks his breath from his lungs and sends him, Sadi, and Hoarvug all sprawling, yowling and drooling as it takes root inside their bones.
And he shifts.
Shifting is like breathing. It’s as natural and painless as any other function of their bodies. But this? Veery can feel himself shift. Bones changing, growing, shrinking, organs moving, even his teeth and skull adjusting in their places. It hurts. Nerves fraying, muscles tearing, ligaments and tendons snapping to make way for new ones.
The ordeal leaves Veery shaking, panting, and human. For a heart-stopping moment, he can’t even feel his tail or ears and thinks he’s actually human.
What in the world was that? Hoarvug… Sadi… they’ve shifted back, too, both glaring dangerously at Cornelia.
“Well?” Cornelia taunts. “Aren’t you going to fight?”
Fight? Veery can’t… like this, he’s defenseless. No claws, no teeth. Unless he wants to give up the Silence spell and allow Cornelia to use her magic, he can’t even use his magic. Veery doesn’t know how she’s done this, but… but she’s won. She’s killed him with one move.
Veery’s unsteady breathing quickens, he curls up tightly, shutting his eyes. He’s defenseless. Even Hoarvug and Sadi can’t defend him, because they’re in the same position.
He and his friends are going to die.
“Veery!” Felix’s shout forcefully yanks Veery’s attention to him just in time to see him wrest the sword out of the hand of a skewered enemy. Felix throws the sword his way. Veery flinches when it clatters against the snowy stone of the rooftop right at his feet.
Veery stares at the foreign object, and then, slowly, realization hits him. There’s always another way. Whatever it takes to survive.
Veery’s hand closes around the grip of the sword. It reeks of iron. Of humans. He stands up and faces Cornelia, then bursts into flames.
He will destroy her, even if he has to use these crude human tools to do it.
“Ooh,” Cornelia coos, eyes narrowing. “Interesting. But you don’t really know how to use that, do you?”
It’s a sword. It can’t be too hard. Veery hefts it in his grip, trying to get a feel for the unfamiliar weight, and advances.
Around him, the Lions fight. They keep all the other soldiers on the roof away from Veery and Cornelia. Hoarvug rises to his feet, roaring and ready to fight with just his fists. Sadi rises as well, though hesitantly.
Veery swings, but Cornelia dances away, laughing at him. She thinks she’s so smart. Veery may not be skilled with this weapon, but she can’t use her magic, either. They’re both at the same disadvantage.
He attacks, ceaseless, sloppily pressing her like Felix does him. A relentless attack that leaves no room for counter.
Her eyes widen, maybe from realizing he’s not backing down, maybe from the sheer aggression, but at the end of a sequence of blows she draws a thin dagger to block.
Veery’s sword, covered in the same flames as the rest of his body, shatters the dagger and bites deep into her arm.
It’s not a good cut. If it were Felix, he’d easily have sliced clean through to the bone. With the same boost from Sothis’ power, he’d probably cut her arm clean off and maybe hit her body as well. But while deep, Veery only manages to cut the flesh. A surface wound. Not enough. She needs to suffer and die.
Veery feels the sword catch on her flesh. It reminds him of some of the lessons the academy students had in swordplay. Swords are for slicing. Swung like a club, with the blade perpendicular to the target, they won’t do much damage at all, if any, but push or pull at the right angle and the blade will glide through flesh as easy as anything else.
Bah, Veery will never remember everything, and certainly can’t get himself skilled enough in the span of this one fight to actually use it.
There is one way a sword will definitely work for him. No angles or slicing required. He just needs to forget about cutting and stick her with the pointy end.
Again, simple.
But Cornelia is not so weak as to simply be prey. Serious now that he’s scarred her, Cornelia’s expression shifts to rage. She flexes against the Silence, almost making him collapse with the effort of maintaining it, and stalks forward, grabbing him by the throat while he’s too weak to lift the sword.
“I wanted to make an example of you,” Cornelia hisses. “But you really are just too much trouble. Thales will reward me either way, so long as I bring him your head.”
She’s straining so hard against the Silence. Veery can’t breathe. He has to do something fast. What if he…
His lips curl up into a smile. With her face close to his, he doesn’t have to speak up past the compression on his throat. “Burn.”
He lets go of the sword, grabs both of her hands with his, palm to palm, (he’s still stronger, physically, like this, and by prioritizing it he can rip her hand from his throat) and pushes. Just like the Titanus. All the explosive magic she’s gathering there, butting against the corks of Silence, Veery releases at once and shoves it forcefully, while she’s surprised, back into her.
And he ignites it.
Cornelia screams. She’s thrown back, trailing embers and smoldering, into a heap onto the stone. She’s such a powerful mage, Veery wonders if maybe that alone, turning her own magic into flames within her body, is enough to kill her.
But she rises. Slowly, she rises. “Neat trick,” she spits. “But it’s not enough to save your miserable life!”
With a roar, she points her blackened hand and blasts dark magic at him. He ducks, rolling painfully over his own sword, and scrambles awkwardly to pick it up as he rises to his feet.
She charges him this time, and he has to raise his sword to block a strike from another dagger. Whether from bad timing or simple inexperience Veery doesn’t have time to consider, but the dagger glances off the blade of his sword and sinks into his arm.
Veery cries out in pain, but slashes with the sword to drive Cornelia away. She jumps back giving him space, but dark magic is already wreathing her hands. It’s all Veery can do to avoid it, but it still catches him. Stinging needles shoot through his arm, the same arm that still has the dagger sticking out of it. He can’t move it anymore.
He hates dark magic.
Healing magic washes over him, which has to come from Mercedes despite her shouts and the blaze of fire she’s commanding further behind Veery, and some feeling comes back but dark magic like this will require more careful attention than a hurried battlefield Physic spell.
Veery uses what strength returns to that arm to hold his sword momentarily, then with his good arm yanks the dagger out and chucks it at Cornelia.
He’s actually surprised when it hits her.
It hits her in the shoulder with the handle, so it doesn’t cut her at all, but she still recoils and covers the impact point with a hand, so he guesses there is more force behind it than he thinks.
A moment of his advantage, but he can’t keep fighting like this. Hoarvug, Sadi, they’re… ah. Veery tries not to look at them, to keep his eyes trained on Cornelia, but he spies them creeping about. Sadi’s plan, no doubt, but while Cornelia is focused on Veery, they’re getting into position to help him win.
He just needs to hold her attention and hold on until they have an opening.
Sword in one hand, and the other mostly limp, Veery opens his jaw and roars to cast Nosferatu and take a bite out of Cornelia. He’s never tried using the expulsion point in his mouth in this form, not like he has the ones on his paws in the other, but it works just fine. Baring his fangs isn’t nearly as impressive like this, but he still curls his lips and growls as a chunk of strength is ripped from her and repairs him.
She makes a face of disgust and throws a hand out over Veery’s head. He looks up just in time to see the glint of Luna before it opens up and drags him off his feet. Up, up, towards the center of the spell, where it will churn him and spit him out.
Not going to happen.
Veery twists in the air to face the dark circle directly and, summoning up all the blazing power within him, reaches out to it. He’s acting on adrenaline and instinct, just the first wild idea which comes to mind to save his hide, but the basis of Brigidan magic is to use the magic already surrounding him. Why not his enemies’ spells? It’s still magic.
Veery switches the sword to his weak hand once more and reaches out to grab that portal to the blackness between the stars. He curls his fingers through it, shivering at the searing of the sudden freezing on his fingertips, then, when he can’t accomplish anything immediately this way, he takes a deep breath and bites down on the other side of Luna.
“W-what in the-”
His boiling blood keeps him from suffering frostbite the moment any part of him passes through this portal, he knows. No living thing can last long through there, where there is no air, no breath, and no light, no warmth.
But that’s exactly why he pulls. He sinks his teeth into the magic, weaves it through his fingers, and, alight, wrestles it into submission. Submission to him. No longer will it follow Cornelia’s control. He widens that portal, and then in a fit of rage and inspiration, throws it at Cornelia and inverts it.
Luna implodes, and the space Veery shoves the portal to, just near Cornelia, flash freezes. Ice forms spontaneously, glittering in the sunlight to cast a rainbow aura around her, and Cornelia reaches a stiff, frozen hand to her neck, unable to breathe where there is no breath.
A rush of wind indicates the air returning, but with it comes Hoarvug and Sadi. Just before she can recover her wits, as she’s crafting another spell, even, one Veery will not be able to dodge after what he’s done, Sadi tackles her legs out from under her from behind, and Hoarvug barrels her over and twists her arms together over her head, palms flat together where she can’t use her magic to kill him.
Sadi even has the idea to rip open her dress and take not just a third dagger on her person, but an Agarthan warp stone. Clever. Veery doesn’t think he can Silence her again, so that might have been her escape.
Pinned, with no way out and Veery slowly shuffling towards her, Cornelia’s eyes finally fill with fear. Veery can’t help but smile. This is the look she should have had from the beginning.
“You…” She trembles as she speaks. “You’re not mortal.” Then, suddenly, though the fear does not disappear from her eyes, she laughs. “The Degradation. It’s already begun! Oh, this is delightful. You know it, don’t you? You should just let us kill you. It’s the only way to stop you from killing all your fri-”
Veery shoves the sword through her throat. He’s had enough of this witch. Let her choke. Suffocate, slowly, in fear, as her lungs fill with blood.
Veery yanks the sword out but doesn’t stab her again. He just watches as she drowns, manic terror written across her hideous face.
He lets her die slowly but makes sure she’s dead. No chances. He doesn’t walk away until there’s no pulse and he’s double-checked with magic that she’s not getting up again.
Good.
“Veery…” Ashe’s worried voice. The sound of fighting, at least here on the rooftop, has quieted. Is it over?
“Your form was terrible,” Felix says, taking the sword surprisingly gently from Veery’s hand. “But you won. Good job.”
“Come on, Felix,” Sylvain says with forced levity, “he’s never used a sword in his life. Do you really have to criticize his form?”
“How else is he going to get better?”
Annette lets out a watery, bubbling laugh. “Oh, goddess… Cornelia’s dead. Now we can pressure the Faerghus lords to rejoin the Kingdom. It’s… It’s over. But… what was that magic? It was like you turned her own Luna spell against her and… well, I’m not sure what you did to it.”
Veery thinks for a long moment, looking at Cornelia’s corpse. “Ginnungagap,” he says. “It’s the Albinean word for… the void.”
Annette looks upwards, as if to look at the stars despite the high sun. “You… inverted Luna? Brought the void here instead of sending here there. Could you recreate that?”
Veery shrugs. “Not alone. I can’t use dark magic, so I can’t cast Luna myself, but I think if Lysithea did I’d be able to do it again.” It’d probably be easier, if Lysithea wants him to alter her spell in such a way. But… he winces. “Not any time soon, though.”
“Come here, Veery,” Mercedes says gently. Despite her words, he doesn’t have to move a muscle as she approaches him instead. She starts treating him, tending to the dark magic wound and the various cuts, scrapes, and bruises he accumulates. “You did so well. I can’t imagine how terrifying that must have been.”
“What was that, anyway?” Sylvain asks. “All of a sudden, you guys just collapsed and shifted back. You never fight like that.”
“Cornelia’s new trick,” Felix answers. He comes closer, holding the box and button Cornelia used to trigger it. “It’s probably another machine. We should leave it alone, and you shouldn’t try to shift, until Linhardt and Lysithea can get here and figure it out.”
“Yeah,” Veery grunts. “I think you’re right. Still, I… what did she do to us?”
“I don’t know,” Ashe sighs. “I’m going to signal Claude,” he draws a special arrow and takes aim even as he keeps talking, “but, what did Cornelia mean about… degradation? It sounded like it’s some sort of… condition that you agell suffer from?”
He looses his arrow. It whizzes off into the sky and explodes into red sparks. Explosive powder and special chemicals which burn the right colors, Claude says.
“That is half right,” Sadi answers. “The Degradation does not affect us cats because we do not live long enough for it to take effect. It happens over many thousands of years, not the mere hundreds of our lifespans. But ancient dragons, those who live long enough and accumulate enough power… that power eventually drives them mad. The Degradation is a degradation of the mind. …Much like what happened artificially to us in Fhirdiad.”
“So, she’s wrong, right?” Annette asks hopefully. “It doesn’t affect cat agell, so you’re fine. Right?”
Veery sighs. “Normally. But… I’ve taken Sothis’ power into me. The power of a dragon god. I can’t say for certain, but… making that power my own may have… it wouldn’t be that surprising if someone in my situation ended up succumbing to the Degradation.”
“But you can stop it, right?” Sylvain asks.
“Maybe?” Veery just shrugs hopelessly. “The manaketes staved it off, but…”
“I’ve never even heard that word before,” Felix says. “Even if someone’s done it before, you don’t know how.”
Veery shakes his head. “No. I don’t.”
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How soon can you be ready,
If the shit were to hit the fan?
Do you have food and ammunition?
Do you even have a Plan?
Have you been training your mind and body,
To increase your level of skill
Could you from scratch or salvage build a generator
A hidden shelter or a simple still
Have you trained with any of your neighbors
So you can truly own your neighborhood
know each others strengths and weakness
So that your neighbors and your fences are good
Do you know your way around,
Without a map of they should block the roads?
Do you have the hometown advantage
In any 3 of your nearest zip codes.?
Where is your safest source of clean fresh water,
Is food a thing you have easily found
Do you and twenty of your closest heavily armed friends
Know all the pathways to secure the high ground,
All of the landmarks and terrain at each strategic location,
I hope is something that you know without any hesitation
Every intersection every landmark and hill
You want to know as much about this
As you possibly can because
Most certainly your enemy will.
Can you locate and reach the highest elevation
Portals to any underground passageways
Can you identify the local vegetation
That can feed you if you find hungry days
You may not hear any bombs exploding
or machine guns rattling as they lay waste
No paratroopers falling out of the sky
No cities that you know of erased
But the truth is everything can change
faster than the eye can blink
And while you may find this idea strange
Your life can depend upon what and how well you think
have you considered that something
which may help you survive
is simply having and working for
Ideals towards which to strive
Know one @All strives towards a vision
To occupy the higher ground
my faith fills the space for my fear
knowOne@All is calling NE and Every
have you seen my dear NE around?
To become the minute men we all should be
So that our defence you and I will be
From the bell to the battle in 10 minutes flat
awake and aware and with moves like a cat
armed and armored and ready to go
with the short form of this poem which is just
Be prepared
the boy scout motto
ready for whatever with no fear even though
Know one can see into the future
And know one is surprised all the time
It might be an alien invasion or
We might be crippled by white collar crime
So know one prepares as best I AM Abel
and stands like fortress upon my square
This world can change in so many sudden ways
Reacting is not the right answer
things happen to fast for that these days
pay all your attention invest all your care
Go on and spend all your prays
a final remark to my brother
the goal is not just to survive
prepared meaning so ready to go
Though the world itself ends i will thrive
The wise move is in to the Know
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Daedra of Kvatch Headcannons
I've decided to post some Headcannons of what I think the Hero of Kvatch is like in my AU. If you want more, or have any of your own, feel free to say something.
He has to have at least one signifier of his status as Sheogorath at all times, be it white hair, white eyes, the staff of Sheogorath or whatever.
He is usually a very fun person, being giddy if a bit Manic, but when those he loves or are sworn to protect are in danger, his enemies quickly learn why his realm is split in two.
He is constantly approached by mad men and women who sing his praises, give him offerings, state their prayers. He usually waves them off, telling them to go away, but when people aren't looking, he places his hand on their heads and tells them "may you find you place in New Sheoth" and leaves them to their madness.
He actively tries to hide his Godhood from the people of the Empire, could you imagine how they would feel knowing that their Hero and the husband of their Emperor was a Daedric Prince? And the Prince of Madness non the less.
He was made a General of the Imperial Legion because of his bravery while protecting his Emperor from the hordes of Daedra during the Battle of Bruma.
It becomes exceptionally hard for him, Martin, Ocato and Joeffre to hide his Godhood from the people.
During the Battle of Bruma, when the Daedra swarmed out of the gates, some of the Lesser Daedra, like Clannfear, Hungers, and Scamps, refused to attack him as they could sense his power and didn't understand that he was not their leader, but their enemy.
Also, during the Battle, when Martin got hit by a Dremora arrow HoK snapped. He summoned an army of Saints and Seducers to destroy the horde of Dremora.
He spent most of the Battle glued next to Martin, making sure no more arrows touched him as they were surrounded by a circle of Saints and Seducers, blocking the swords, laces, and axes of the Dremora.
HoK tells the people that his unnaturally white hair was caused by his mother being exposed to powerful magicks while she was with child, which also gave him his natural talent for Conjuration magick.
Some times, HoK's humanity disappears completely and he truly becomes Sheogorath. On these occasions, Martin doesn't sleep as he is kept up wondering whether he will see his love again.
At night, HoK will lie awake, Martin in his arms, thinking about the future. HoK is going to outlive his mortal husband, but can he really bear watching him die? Watching the person who you love more than anything die would be too much for even the God of Madness to handle.
The Elder Council is very critical of their relationship. Their main criticisms are 1. There is no way for Martin to have an heir. 2. HoK is clearly mentally unstable. 3. Why is HoK disappearing randomly? 4. Is it really safe to have such a powerful and insane Wizard be this close to the Emperor?
As the God of Madness, HoK goes through days where he suffers through a random mental illness or disorder, but on much high levels than anything a mortal would feel. Just imagine how bad the depression or anxiety would have to be to be considered crippling for a God.
Even before he was Sheogorath, HoK had bad anxiety, so when the Council criticizes him, he spends hours in his room wondering if they're right. If he's not fit to be Emperor. If hes not right for Martin. What if he keeps being Emperor and he loses control and accidentally destroys the city? Or worse, Martin.
The Strange Door was moved from Bravil to the Imperial City, being hidden inside HoK's chambers and disguised as a Magicka Font.
He actually joined the Mages Guild. It was mainly so he could back up his ploy of being a mage, but he also wanted to find any books he could on Sheogorath, Jyggalag, the Greymarch, Mantaling, and Daedric Princes.
He spends so much time in the Imperial City, that Haskill had joined the Elder Council and the Palace guards have had a few Saints and Seducers join their ranks posing as High Elves and Dark Elves.
He actually does want to have children with Martin, but he doesn't know if it's possible so he won't mention anything to him.
When Martin lit the Dragonfire, it caused a physical sickness to overtake HoK, Haskill, and all the Saints and Seducers in the Guards.
The official statement was food poisoning, but rumors had started to spread.
Martin stayed up all night, holding his beloved as HoK convulsed in pain, not being able to sleep because of it.
The only times Martin left his side was when he prayed to Akatosh to relieve his love of his suffering, to let him survive it.
This went on for 3 months but it had finally ended. HoK, Haskill and all of the Guards were perfectly fine, with no physical or spiritual side effects.
Martin was so grateful that he set up an altar to Akatosh inside his own bedchambers, right next to the one he has to Sheogorath.
Martin had HoK appoint 8 new members of the Elder Council so he would at least have some people with him. His choices were Haskill, the Dark Seducer Captain, the Golden Saint Captain, the Duke of Dementia Klarion, the Duchess of Mania Hyebe, the Champion of Cyrodiil, Relmyna Verenim, and Sheldon the Mayor of Passwall.
Count Janus Hassildor of Skingrad is the only person on tue Elder Council who isn't from the Shivering Isles, and isnt one of HoK's closest friends that knows of his title. The two share a mutual understanding with each other. HoK wont tell anyone about Janus being a vampire, and Janus won't tell anyone that HoK is Sheogorath.
The relationship between the two is made of the begrudging respect that HoK feels toeards Janus, and the fear and amazement that Janus feels towards HoK.
When the two first met, Martin asked HoK if him and Janus used to date by the way they were staring at each other. HoK told Martin the truth, but also told him that he had nothing to worry about. Martin found it hilarious that one of the Emperor's was a Daedric Prince and one of the Countss was a vampire. That was, after he stopped panicking.
HoK thought it best to not say anything about the Coumt of Anvil being the Grey Fox for a time. Dont want Martin burting a blood vessel or anything.
Thanks for reading, and like I said, if you want more just ask.
#elder scrolls headcannon#martin septim#champion of cyrodiil#Daedra of Kvatch AU#elder scrolls#elder scrolls AU#oblivion AU#hero of kvatch#daedric prince#sheogorath#headcanon#au#alternate universe
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I HATE YOU
By- Spencerswhoreclub
I LOVE THIS TROPE, it's enemies to lovers so enjoy
This chapter contains- arguing, degrading, praise kink, mommy kink, choking, sub Spencer, dominant reader, over stimulating, orgasm deprivation, (male) anal fingering, (male receiving) oral sex, (female) penetration, and a sub drop.
Wc- 2280
—————-
Your POV
—————-
Spencer and I have had it out for each other since day one. When I first met him and he refused to shake my hand. I wasn't too worried because I knew he was a germaphobe and was going to refuse, but it didn't hurt to try.
To my surprise every single time I talked to him he would brush me off. He would come up with an excuse like him being swamped with work or he would get up to get coffee.
But when every time I would even look in his direction or even open my mouth to say something to someone I could hear him scuff like I just insulted his mother. That is when I decided I'd give him the same energy he gave me.
So then every time he talked I would roll my eyes or let out a small laugh. He obviously caught onto it because he decided to escalate his antics.
Soon after he started closing doors just before I could walk through them or even interrupting me in the middle of my sentence. So I decided I'd make sure to time when I got to work just right so I could shut the elevator doors before he arrived. If he came earlier I came earlier, it was a vicious cycle.
It escalated to the point where everyone on the team noticed, they would even pull us to the side and constantly ask what's wrong and of course we both just said it was nothing and chalked it up to us being tired of having a bad day.
Eventually after three months of us hating each other hotch had enough of us. When we were in the middle of bickering about what the unsubs motive was he intervened.
"Y/n, Reid, the team and I are all tired of you going back and forward. I don't know what happened to cause this feud but until it's resolved you guys will be sharing a hotel room, I don't care how long it takes so you better play nice"
Both Spencer and I tried to defend ourselves but it was no use hotch had made up his mind.
After a long day of arguing with Spencer I had to go back to my shared hotel room with him. When we finally got to the hallway I did what anyone In my position would do.
I took off sprinting down the hallway, he obviously caught onto what I was trying to do because he ran after me. Just before he caught up I unlocked the door and shut it behind me.
"Y/n you know I have a key too right"
He sounds out of breath from running, why is it low key hot- no, y/n you hate him
My thoughts were interrupted by the door opening. Before I could realize what was happening my back was against the door and his body was pressed against mine.
"What the fuck was that"
Are you fucking serious, did he really ask what that was after he went from icing me out to being just plain rude to me.
————————
Spencer's POV
————————
I asked her what was up but honestly I knew I had been a jerk to her from the moment she stepped into the building.
In the beginning she really just did catch me at a bad time. I had planned on properly introducing myself the next day but after I had time to think about it I figured I wouldn't be able to shake my first impression so I decided I'd just stick with being an ass.
But to be honest I did really like her, she had always been in the back of my mind. I constantly imagine her tying me up or edging me until I had tears in my eyes. But I also want more than that, I want to be the reason she smiles, I want her to be the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night
I was thrown out of my daydream when I felt her push me off of her
—————
Your POV
—————
I pushed him off of me and started yelling at him pushing him further and further while doing so
"WHAT WAS THAT? You mean what you're been doing to me since you met me, for a genius you're really fucking stupid. I've don't nothing but match the energy you gave me"
I finally pushed him down onto the bed and I heard him whimper making me smile.
"God I fucking hate you"
I smashed our lips together and we ripped each other's clothes off eager to see each other naked after being deprived of each other for months.
Once we were both in our underwear I attached my lips to his neck and grabbed the growing bulge in his boxers, then he let out a loud moan.
"Damn baby boy I've barely touched you"
"Ik m-mommy it just feels s-so good"
Before I could even register what he said his eyes went wide and he tried to sit up
"I- I'm so sorry I don't know what I was-"
I cut him off with a kiss, I tried to put as much love as I possibly could into it just so he knew it was alright
"Baby it's fine, I wouldn't want you to call me anything else"
I made my way down to the bed so that I was eye level with his dick and slowly pulled down his boxers. Of course his dick is like the rest of him, absolutely beautiful.
I take my time kissing everywhere around where he truly wanted me, I could lie and say it was to tease him but I really wanted this to last as long as possible.
Finally I gave in and wrapped my lips around the tip. I brought my head up and down, taking more and more each time earning more small whimpers from him.
"Mommy I'm about to cum"
"Oh no you're not, not yet at least. You've been such a bad boy and bad boys get punished. Turn around and get on your hands and knees."
He does so immediately not wanting to make it any worse for himself. I leaned over him while pushing his shoulders down so that his back was arched.
"Is this okay?"
I whisper in his ear while pushing two fingers against his entrance
"Y-yes pl-please mommy I need it"
I applied more pressure, slowly pressing my fingers into his hole earning a loud moan. At first I went slow then I started going faster and deeper until I hit his prostate.
"Fuck- mommy can I please cum"
"Of course you can baby"
Even after he released I kept going, I figured I'd fuck with him more. Since he was already sensitive it didn't take him long to get close.
"Mommy I'm close, please can I cum"
"Yes baby boy"
Even after he finished again i still didn't stop
"Please mommy stop, it's too much"
He saw with tears streaming down his face
"No, you're going to cum for each month you insisted on being a dick to me"
"B-but I c-cant"
"Yes you can, you want to be my good boy don't you?"
"Yes m-ma'am"
"So cum for me"
His legs started shaking and he finally released onto the bed for the third time of the night.
"Turn over onto your back, I'm going to ride you and you're not going to cum until I do, got it?"
"Yes ma'am"
"Good boy"
As soon as he got onto his back I wasted no time taking off my bra and underwear, he was so busy staring at my tits he didn't even notice me climbing on top of him
"Hey my eyes are up here"
I said while snapping in his face
"Sorry mommy you're just so pretty"
"Yeah yeah shut up so I can fuck you"
I took his dick in my hand and teased him by rubbing his tip up and down my opening
"P-please mommy"
"Fine, but only because you're cute when you beg"
As soon as the words came out of my mouth I sunk down on his length earning a loud moan from Spencer. I started bouncing up and down but I couldn't help but notice his hands balled into fists gripping the sheet so hard I'm surprised it didn't rip.
Then I realize I never gave him permission to touch me, he's trying so hard to be a good boy for me.
"Baby boy it's okay, you can touch me"
His hands were immediately on my waist gripping hard enough to leave marks.
"How do you think the team would react if they say you like this huh? What do you think they'd say if they saw how much of a little slut you are"
He opened his mouth but all he could get out was high pitched moans. So I wrapped my hand around his throat
"I asked you a question, what do you think they'd say"
"I-I d-don't know"
"They would say you're pathetic for letting a girl take over and use you"
I leaned forward to get a better angle and he saw this as a perfect opportunity to suck on my tits.
"Shit- baby boy if you keep this up I won't last"
"Please cum for me mommy, I want it so much"
I reached down and rubbed my clit in circles then I felt a familiar feeling in my stomach
"Fuck Spence I'm cuming, please fill me up"
We both came at the same time and I collapsed next to him. I went to get up to go pee but he pulled me back down.
"Spence I-"
"Please, please don't leave, I-I'm sorry I was so bad to you I didn't mean it. I really like you a-and I just didn't know how to-"
That's when I realized he had been crying
"Shhh Spence it's fine-"
"No it's not fine-"
"Don't ever interrupt me again"
"Yes ma'am"
"Good, now I understand Spencer and I promise I won't leave you. Come here"
I scooted back on the bed so I was leaning against the headboard. I sat there with open arms waiting for him to come to me.
He crawled up to me and curled up on my chest. He looked at my boobs and back at me silently asking permission and I nodded my head. He took my nipple in his mouth and started sucking.
This poor boy has some serious mommy issues and abandonment issues.
"Spencer I understand why you did what you did and I'm not going to hold it against you"
Then I felt something wet roll down my chest
"Baby why are you still crying"
"B-because I want t-this to be more than a o-one time thing. Just because you forgive m-me doesn't mean you like me"
"Spence look at me"
Grab his face and kiss him softly
"I promise you're not the only one that wants this to be more than a one time thing"
"Really"
"Yes Spence, I'd love to call you my boyfriend if that's alright with you."
"Yes please"
He attached his lips to my neck sucking harshly
"Baby boy we have to be up early tomorrow and if you don't stop I won't be able to resist fucking you again."
He still didn't stop so I shot him a glance as a warning and he stopped, god I love how submissive he is.
Before I knew it I was getting woken up by my alarm. I took a second to admire how cute he looked before I woke him up but eventually I had too. We had to meet the team downstairs for breakfast.
We both took our time in the shower, and ended up fucking so we had to rush to get dressed. So much so we both forgot about the marks we left on each other.
When we finally got downstairs the whole team was there, all was normal until Morgan noticed something.
"Damn pretty boy I didn't know you had it in you"
"What, what are you talking about"
Spencer asked
"You and y/n over here both have marks, y'all definitely fucked last night."
His face turned a deep shade of pink and as cute as it was I had to step in.
"Okay and? We fucked this morning in the shower too"
Unfortunately this barely phased him and he kept talking
"So y/n how's his dick game"
"I wouldn't know, I was the one in charged"
"No way"
"I'll prove it"
I walked over to Spencer and slightly pinched his butt and he let out an involuntary whimper
"Mommy"
It was barely audible but it was just loud enough to the entire team to hear
Now it was his turn to be speechless
But eventually hotch finally broke the silence
"You know this isn't what I was expecting when I made y'all room together but anything is better that that bickering"
This time the entire team chimed in
"Most definitely"
"Agreed"
"Yes."
I was about to defend myself but Spencer interrupted me
"Hey-"
"Y/n it's fine"
"What did I say about interrupting me"
"I'm sorry, ma'am"
"Good, now let's go solve this case"
#mgg smut#spencer reid smut#spencer reid#fanfic#sub reid#enimies to lovers#mgg fanfiction#spencer x reader
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Loki Imagine: "Starting Now"
tw: rather large age gap, swearing, major angst
fluff, angst
Loki x Stark!Reader
You were seventeen when you met Loki Laufeyson. And you must admit... you had a bit of a crush on him. He was being kept prisoner by S.H.E.I.L.D, his power too great and his blood lust overpowering. You found him... interesting.
It only took a couple of tries before Nick Fury found out you were spying on Loki. You would study his mannerisms. For a god, he was quite... human. But, that was before there was a code put on the door, one that was made to keep you away from him.
It had never been explained to you in detail exactly what Loki had done, and you were too busy doing other 17-year-old things to turn on the news. So, Banner kept you as distracted from the trickster god as possible, showing you anything and everything he could in the lab. But, you would occasionally see Loki being escorted to and from his cell, peering into the lab... grinning at you. You couldn't help it, you wondered what he was like... you'd also wondered what those beautiful black locks felt like through your fingers. But those thoughts were just fantasies... ones that would never come true.
You had never been close to anyone capable of that before, capable of killing. Let alone someone who had wanted to do it. But you were a fool... a child. You didn't understand Loki, you didn't understand what he'd done. Not that anyone had bothered to clue you in.
After things got out of control, Tony, your father sent you back to New York where you would stay with Pepper and train for the next three years. Where you would learn how to help your father. Learn how to be an Avenger.
You were nineteen when you saw him again. His hair had gotten longer and his face had aged, but the biggest change was that he was no longer considered an enemy of the Avengers. Now, he was simply accompanying his brother to the compound.
It was almost noon when you first woke up and began making breakfast. It was your day off and you were going to do your favorite activity: sleep.
"My, my" a velvet voice said from behind you, "look who grew up."
You didn't need to turn around to know who was speaking. You grinned and continued to smear butter on your toast. "For the God of Mischief, you really aren't very good at sneaking up on people."
You turned and threw the butter knife, it pierced the wall right above his head. He stood with his eyes wide, his shock was unjustified. For one, if you had wanted to hit him you would; two, he had to have known what you had been doing all these years, what your father required of you.
You took him in as he sauntered through the kitchen, leaning against the bar. He was in desperate need of a haircut, the black locks fell to his shoulders. He wore his traditional solid black suit, not a hint of color. Not even his signature forest green.
He looked tired... as if it had been not two years but twenty. Age had gone well with him though. He looked mature, as though the youthful pranks had stopped a long time ago, like the power-hunger had disappeared.
You smirked, "You've gotten old."
"Two years isn't that long, Y/n." He reached over his head and yanked the knife out of the wall, leaving a small hole. Pepper would kill you for that later. Worth it.
You took the knife from his hand. "It is when you're getting old and fat," you retorted.
Loki chuckled, "You are your father's daughter."
You rolled your eyes, "Did you need something? Or do you enjoy seeing the mental agony you inflict upon me?"
"Actually, I was looking for your father."
You pointed your knife towards the elevator at the other end of the room, "Lab. Lower level. You should be familiar with that wing." The wing he had been kept prisoner in. The wing you had strolled down almost every day when you were seventeen just to catch a glimpse of the handsome prisoner.
"Thank you, darling," he replied as he strolled over to the elevator. He smiled and gave you a wink before the doors slid shut. You rolled your eyes.
Darling? Absolutely not.
Dinner was the most awkward thing that you've ever been forced to sit through. The fear of Loki and his manipulation loomed over the table like fog. Steve was watching him like a feral animal that would attack at any second. As if he were a venomous snake ready to strike at any given moment.
"So," Thor cleared his throat awkwardly, "Y/n, your father tells me you've been training in New York. How's that going?"
"It's a lot of work but it's a nice way to spend time," you said through a bite of mashed potatoes. "Right now I'm focusing more on science so I can help Bruce and dad. But Natasha is really wanting to do more combat training with me."
"Y/n fights now?" Loki asked, grinning at you.
You shrugged, "Not much, but I could definitely kick your ass."
"Could you now? I suppose we'll have to put that to the test, won't we Miss Stark?" Loki said with a wink.
Natasha laughed, "Y/n is a bit too soft right now. Once she gets over her fear of actually hurting someone I think she'll be an excellent fighter."
"The knife she threw at me this morning must have been an expression of that fear."
"Y/n Stark!" Pepper said from the other end of the table, "You did not put that hole in my wall."
"He was annoying me!" You said defensively.
"He annoys everyone, you don't see Tony throwing silverware at his head."
"No he just blasts him to hell with his suits," you deadpanned.
Pepper looked at Tony. "You see where she gets it? I told you seventeen was too young for training. I told you that the violence would rub off on-"
"Can we not argue at the table, please?" You said, looking back and forth between your father and Pepper.
She rolled her eyes, "Fine. But you're going to fix that wall young lady."
"Fine," you sighed with a roll of your eyes. You caught Loki grinning at you from across the table and went back to picking at your food.
"Here I was thinking we were going to have a civilized dinner," Loki chuckled.
Cap scoffed, "Civilized?"
"Cap," your father said with a warning tone.
"What?" Steve said defensively, "I'm just wondering where a murderer gets off saying anything about being civilized."
"That's rich coming from you," Loki retorted. "Do I need to remind you of all the innocents you killed in Sokovia? So many lives sacrificed in the name of doing the right thing."
"Brother!" Thor snapped.
"I'm just trying to level the playing field," Loki grinned. "If I'm going to be put on trial, perhaps everyone else should get off their high horse as well?"
"We have never been on the same level, Loki." Steve snapped, "You tried to conquer this planet. You lied, manipulated, stole, killed innocent humans. All because you wanted a power trip. That wasn't Sokovia, we thought we were doing the right thing, all you wanted to do was the wrong thing. All you wanted to do was kill."
"You speak as though I don't have the ability to change," Loki leaned his elbows on the table. "Isn't that what being on this planet is all about? Second chances?"
"Not for murderers," Steve spat.
You didn't know Loki well... but to the extent that you did know him, you knew that when he was embarrassed he also got angry and violent. But not this time. Loki was the picture of serenity and calm as he stood from his spot at the table. "I see how it is," he muttered, "I suppose I should have just stayed... gone."
With that... he left.
It was 3 AM by the time you left your room again. For no other reason than to break into Thor's cookie stash. He was convinced it was your father that had been stealing from him... wrong Stark.
You prayed that nobody would find you digging in the pantry for two reasons. One: Thor would kill you for stealing his snacks; two, you were in your underwear and a tank top. Anyone other than Pepper seeing you in this state would be humiliating.
But, of course, you can never get what you want. Behind you, you heard soft footsteps padding their way into the kitchen.
"I didn't realize you'd be awake," the masculine voice said from behind you. You turned and saw Loki, shirtless in low-hanging black sweatpants. You did your best to force your eyes away from the dark trail of hair below his belly button and into his pants.
As your eyes met his, you could see the light blush on his cheeks. Fuck, he'd caught you staring. He cleared his throat, "I just thought I'd make some tea. For some reason, I don't sleep well in Midgard."
"Perhaps it's all the memories," You muttered as he stood next to you at the counter.
"For christ's sake, Y/n," he slammed his mug down onto the counter, "I am not that person anymore, you know that."
"Do I?" You turned to face him, "You killed innocent people, Loki. You killed children-"
"I know what I did," he sighed, putting his head in his hands, "I'm trying to fix it. I want to be better than I was."
"Loki we can't just trust you," the tea was long forgotten at this point, the water had probably gone cold, "not after what you did."
Loki huffed and yanked the butcher knife out of the block, placing it in your hand. He wrapped his hand around yours and put the knife to his chest, only a little pressure would need to be applied in order for it to tear his skin.
"Loki, what are you-"
He shushed you, "I am literally putting my life in your hands. I want you to see that I am done hurting people, and if you killing me is how to prove it, then so be it."
You tried to pull away but he pulled you back in with enough force to make your knees buckle. You weren't looking at the knife against his pale, muscular chest. But his blue eyes that were begging you to acknowledge his sincerity.
Your grip on the kitchen knife loosened. It clattered to the floor as you wrapped your arms around him, pressing your face into his warm chest. "I don't want to hurt you," you whispered.
You felt him sigh in relief, "I don't want to hurt anyone either. If anyone here is willing to trust me, I want it to be you."
"Why me?"
He pulled away and cupped your face in his hands, "Because you are the first truly good person I've met on this planet. You give me hope, Y/n." He pressed a kiss to your forehead.
"You don't have to be that person ever again, Loki," you kissed his Adam's apple gently, "I promise I will help you through this."
You felt him lean down slightly, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you up to meet him. You immediately felt your breath hasten. You had been fantasizing about this moment since you were in high school... and now it was about to happen. Loki, God of Mischief, was about to kiss you at 3 AM in the kitchen of the Avengers compound.
Before you could take another breath, his lips were against yours. His lips were soft like you'd always imagined they'd be, and his mouth was hot like the rest of him. He groaned into the kiss when your tongue brushed against his. You raked your fingers through his hair.
He parted his lips from yours in order to lift you onto the counter, standing in between your legs, his hands trailing up your sides.
"Wait, wait," you gasped as you pulled your lips from his, "How do I know you're not about to use me?"
Loki smiled and tucked some stray hair behind your ear, "I'll never lie to you, my darling. I'll be good for you... starting now."
You pressed your forehead against his and kissed the tip of his nose, "Starting now."
#loki x reader#loki laufeyson#loki x you#loki imagine#stark!reader#mcu#marvel cinematic universe#marvel imagine#marvel#avengers fanfiction#loki fanfiction
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UP IN SMOKES — DOYOUNG
psych student! kdy | tw. college au, violence, a knife, GASLIGHTING, hallucination, psychosis, swearing, just pure manipulation, minor charac death, there's a court scene, this is a repost! | wc. 10k she a beast
life could’ve been simple;
you shouldn't have met kim doyoung.
what does a freshman in college hate the most other than the high-stress levels of moving into a new dorm? a shitty roomie and a smelly, moldy mattress. the girl you call roommate refuses to help move the mattress because it will ruin her new manicure. what a fucking classic.
"sounds like a 'you' problem. figure it out yourself, plain jane."
she said before heading out, annoyingly popping her bubblegum as she kicks a few of your scattered boxes by the front door. you roll your eyes; classes haven't even started yet, so why is she already making your life miserable? as much as you'd like to snap at her, you don't, merely glaring daggers at her back as she finally turns the corner of the hallway and disappears.
"bitch," you mutter under your breath.
you eye the abomination that is supposed to be your bed, cursing how you shouldn't have made a 15-minute pit stop to starbucks for a drink when you could've just bought one from the instant coffee vending machines in every corner of the hallway of this dorm building because if you didn't, maybe you could've beaten regina george wannabe from taking the better bed. sighing, you suck it up and start getting to work. life's full of shit, anyway; no point sulking.
moving a moldy mattress is easier than you thought, to say the least. you can't ask for help from the other freshmen you bumped into in the hallway because they, too, are under a huge amount of stress from the move and are busy getting their affairs in order. it was a good thing, though, that a committee was formed specifically for this day to help out the freshmen if they were to stumble upon problems or mishaps with moving in. they were all around the campus, and they prove to be way friendlier than your batch mates. since this morning, three people have already offered help in carrying your luggage — which you have politely declined.
"hey, uhm… is this the stall for the welcoming committee? oh, wait. i'm sorry, there's a sign right there —"ugh.
you mentally shut your eyes in humiliation. why do you have to be this bad, this awkward at communicating with strangers? why couldn't you be born like all those socialites who already (probably) got their contacts filled with new numbers on the first day of school or something?
"yeah, this is them — welcoming committee, i mean. how can i help you?" he smiles, sweet, radiating the epitome boy next door aura as he looks up at you from where he's sitting behind the stall. your eyes quickly land onto the name tag stuck on his varsity jacket before meeting his eyes again.
"i have an issue with my mattress. it has mold, you see..." your voice slowly trails, becoming quieter as you feel small under the weight of his piercing stare. oh, come on. he's just a guy with a beautiful face, woman the fuck up.
"really? let me see..."
he needn't finish rounding the stall when his nose is hit by the pungent smell brought forth by your mattress. frankly, you weren't that picky. you could've covered it with bedsheets and call it a day, but the odor is too strong to ignore. you mentally hope the smell didn't latch onto your clothes, especially not when someone so cute is around — what a bad first impression.
"oh, god!" he exclaims the moment he lays eyes on it, taking a step back. “now, that has to go. and you lugged it from the fourth floor?"
ah, yes. according to tradition in these dormitories, which you've only found out today, freshmen get the curse of climbing four flights of stairs up while the seniors strut into their rooms on the ground floor like the hallway is a goddamned runway.
"doyoung! help me carry these!"
someone calls his name as you both turn your head to spot a chestnut-haired girl clad in the same varsity jacket he's wearing. you grimace at the sight of her. for someone so small, she just had to volunteer to carry all those heavy bags. however, he doesn't move in front of you and brushes her off as if she doesn't look like she's carrying rocks over her shoulders. "i'm already helping someone else! go find taeyong or something. i'm sure that shit's loitering around here somewhere!"
"oh, it's okay, you can go help her. i'll just look for someone else —"
"nah, it's fine!" you try hard to school your face into indifference when you notice his gummy smile. "plus… trust me when i say no other person from the committee will help you with this. this shit smells like my roommate's sweaty basketball socks!"
you can't help the smile forming on your face as you help him carry the mattress off to the side of the hallway, the stinky thing leaning vertically against the wall and behind a huge terracotta plant pot. "don't worry, let's report it to student affairs so they'll get you a new one. congrats! you'll have to share beds with your new roommate tonight, freshie. it'd be a great ice breaker."
the universe truly hates you.
your expression must've been a dead give away because he's suddenly patting your shoulder, regarding you with utmost sympathy. "been there, done that. i hated taeyong, too, when i met him last year. still, for some mind fuck of a miracle, we've grown to be friends and developed a talent of not wanting to kill each other every two seconds."
"highly doubt i'd be friends with a regina george-level bitch, but thanks, anyway," you mutter under your breath. suddenly, you whip your head towards him after internalizing what he just said. "you met your roommate last year? you're a sophomore?"
he scoffs, leaning down to your height to lowly mutter against your ear as he eyes the lobby's front desk. "why? do i look like some 4th year who radiates 'don't touch me' energy?"
you feel the heat on your cheeks with how close he is, only releasing an exhale when he finally gets out of your personal space. "i'm kim doyoung. you've heard it from wendy earlier, but anyway — i'm a 2nd-year psych major."
"no way!" you exclaim, a little too excited. "i'm taking psych, too!"
"oh, you are? well, if you need anything or if you don't understand stuff…" he winks. "feel free to approach me anytime."
hmm… how sweet of him.
it was only hours later that you found out who kim doyoung is in your department during the acquaintance party. and for god's sake, you found out from your best friend who is a major in english lit and has never even seen the guy. "seriously, you didn't know he's a genius? i hear the professors call him a prodigy, girl! a fucking prodigy. if i were you, i'd ask for his help in every subject."
"you know i prefer keeping to myself. how'd i know stuff like that when i have no one to talk to in the psych dorms?" you look down, making the ice cubes in your drink clink against each other. "i didn't think he was this big shot or whatever. he looks normal, and everyone treats him normally."
"well, what do you expect?" she hisses, hitting your arm. "the other students don't want to make him feel alienated or something just because he's tons smarter than them. but anyway… the real question is…"
you roll your eyes when she pauses for effect, tentatively leaning closer to whisper under her breath.
"is he cute?"
you didn't want to answer her question, but he's been stuck in your head since he offered walking with you to the student affairs office. doyoung had smiled his cute gummy smile and had even ruffled your hair before leaving you for committee duties — saying he's cute would be an understatement.
"you have no idea."
for his first act;
he gains your trust.
fast forward to one year, many things have changed, but the only constant remaining is the handsome sophomore — who is now a 3rd-year, by the way — whom you've met on your first day. coursework has been pretty tough this year. instead of the content written in your textbook, your mind is plagued by the horrible twist of fate your best friend had encountered; she didn't have enemies. or so you thought.
she disappeared in the middle of christmas break last year. her beaten up body was found only a month later, in january, floating around the university's lake. happy fucking new year.
the first time she chose to spend the holidays with you instead of her family back in her hometown, and that happens? some rotten luck you both have. it's why you didn't put it past her family to hate your guts with strong convictions. it's okay. the feeling's mutual. after all, it had been your best friends' own family, the same ones who had been so willing to take you in when you got kicked out, that were so eager to pin you as the murderer of their child. all under the argument that you have been the last person seen with her.
oh, the things her mom said about you when she had stormed into the police station, red in the face, tears streaming down her cheeks..."i warned my baby not to hang out with that — that bitch. came straight out of a cursed family, that one. abusive dad, a nutjob mom. that bitch is a danger! probably got her dad's nasty temper and beat my baby to death! i want her on the electric chair!"
in those times, you once again realize this world is fucked up and cruel in every bit of its glory as you fought tooth and nail to defend yourself. but even then, they never believed you — the law will only favor the rich . the prosecution had been so sure it was you until a certain witness appeared and presented himself before the jury.
"do you swear to tell the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth?"
doyoung raises his right hand, fixing his stare straight at the judge. "i solemnly and sincerely declare that the evidence i shall give will be the truth, the whole truth, and nothing but the truth."
"how long have you known the defendant?" the prosecutor asks, arms crossed in front of her chest as she paces in front of the witness stand.
the boy briefly meets your gaze, and it's enough to make his heart sink. doyoung can't bear seeing you in those grey overalls when he knows it himself. you're being accused of a crime you didn't commit. "i've known her for one year."
"how'd you meet?"
and the questions went on and on; your defense attorney isn't all too keen on winning the case and had never once yelled "objection!" in her seat, but what could you expect? all the evidence kept stacking against you, and some of those you knew were even fabricated. you've never felt this hopeless in your whole twenty years of living.
"what's the point in this, anyway?" doyoung snapped in the witness stand, fiercely glaring at the prosecutor. "how is my history — or lack thereof — with the defendant any relevant to the case? you're not even asking me about evidence nor what my statement is!"
"easy there," the prosecutor retaliates, jaw locked. "i have to first measure what exactly your relationship is with the defendant for us to think twice about your statement. who knows..." the prosecutor makes a grand gesture of turning her head in your direction, affixing you with a condescending stare. "she might've just hired you to say these things."
your attorney doesn't come to your aid.
"perjury isn't my thing."
the prosecutor seems to have taken offense by the tone of doyoung's voice, but he doesn't let her speak further. "the victim isn't all sunshine and rainbows, you know. she'd been a part of a sorority and one with quite a nasty reputation in the college, too. i have to say she made very poor decisions, ones i'm sure her family didn't even know about. you see, they take their oaths and pledges very seriously. the victim wanted out. they didn't like that."
"and you have evidence to support this claim?"
without a moment to waste, he digs around the front pocket of his jeans before proudly presenting a black usb between his slender fingers. "knock yourself out."
the professor calls your name, snapping you out of your reverie. this isn't the first time your mind had transported you back to that particular day in the courtroom, where doyoung had swooped in and saved you from a lifetime in prison. the whole ordeal had been so scary, so frightening that you remember everything vividly as if it had only happened yesterday.
the classroom is empty. even your social psych professor has long packed up his stuff and is already standing by the classroom door. damn. were you that out of it?
"i'm so sorry." you mutter under your breath monotonously as you walk past him and out the door without another word. this is bad, very bad. no one would help, much less lend their notes to someone charged with murder — especially of their very own best friend. whether you were innocent or not doesn't matter to the student body. you've been ostracized, gossips of your problematic family spreading like wildfire, and the ridiculous part is only a fourth of the gossips are true.
the damage is done.
at this point, you realize with a heavy heart that you have to face doyoung again sooner or later. you haven't talked to him at all since the start of the new school year, ignoring his lighthearted greetings in the hallways, rejecting his calls, ghosting his texts. you are afraid people would judge him harshly for hanging around you. frankly, you were embarrassed to ask any more favors from him with how much he's done for you already and the fact that he had seen you in such a state of vulnerability.
but you also didn't want to fail your subjects and lose the one thing holding your life together — your scholarship.
that is why you found yourself standing before him, in his favorite spot in the library tucked behind shelves upon shelves of books, next to the windows overlooking the empty football field. he's wearing black-rimmed glasses and is clad in the usual navy blue sweater as his head turns to and fro between a textbook and his notebook. the air had been so silent, you hear the aggressive scratches his pencil makes against the paper.
you feel a little hurt when he makes no move to acknowledge your presence, but you think back to what you have been doing and figured he has a right to act this way.
"hey, doyoung." your voice is meek, hesitant.
"if you're not here to explain nor give me an acceptable reason why you've been ignoring me for the last few months, then please get out of my sight. i'm busy, as you can tell." he is brutally honest, knocking down the remaining hope you have left of ever reconciling with him.
something within you snaps, the steady streams of tears running down your cheeks as you pinned your stare on doyoung's open pencil case lying on the table. you have nobody left. your family — father, specifically speaking — has disowned you for taking a course your heart wanted, and the one friend you have lies motionless in a white coffin buried six feet under the ground. you didn't want to lose doyoung, too, no matter what role he plays in your life.
"i'm sorry," your voice cracks. "life's been… fucking shitty, and i'm sure you of all people know what i've been through. i've thanked you before for — for what you did, and i'm thanking you again right now but — i'm sorry, i'm really —"
your voice cracks when you feel him pulling you into an embrace. you feel the tension in your body breaking loose as you crumble in his arms. all those months grieving and wallowing in self-pity took such a heavy toll that you can't help but tightly clutch the sides of his hoodie, scared he'll slip through your fingers.
one of his hands comes up to push your face against the crook of his neck, muffling your cries in the silent library. doyoung felt like a jerk for snapping at you the way he did. how inconsiderate can he be? however, he felt elated because you sought him out yourself and wanted his help of all people.
his eyebrow raises in amusement.
well, not that you have a choice, anyway.
it took you a few good minutes to calm down, cringing when you see the wet patch on doyoung's sweater because of your tears.
"why don't you tell me everything, hmm? i'll help you as much as i can."
you sheepishly look down, fiddling with your fingers as you sit across him, the open textbook and notebook before him long forgotten. "well, i've been so out of it lately? my mind's just a whole bloody mess and i can't focus on any of my subjects at all and if i can't, then i'll lose the scholarship and it's the only thing i have in my life right now —"
"hey," doyoung cuts you off, placing a warm hand against your forearm to calm you down. "you won't lose that scholarship. trust me, okay? why don't we arrange tutoring sessions and i'll even lend you some of my notes from last year. what do you think?"
"okay... thank you, doyoung."
"for the record, you have me in your life, too. i'll always be here for you."
in the first session, you woke up from your deep slumber with only 15 minutes to spare from the scheduled time, but thankfully, your tutor only lives one floor down with the rest of the 3rd-years. bringing nothing with you but a pen and a pad of paper, your textbooks were destroyed as some students from your batch thought it'd be fun to throw them into the lake to "honor" your friend.
you offer a small smile when taeyong opens the door, sporting an oversized shirt and track pants, eyes wide in shock when he sees you. "hi? can i help you?"
"hello! i'm here for doyoung. he's tutoring —"
"he doesn't live here anymore. his mom bought him a place outside the campus."
what?
"i'm sorry for disturbing you, then. do you by any chance know where he lives?"
that's weird. doyoung never mentioned he's already moved out. you feel a wee bit irritated that he forgot to tell you; it would've saved you the embarrassment of interacting with the varsity player. you weren't stupid, you can see the hints of repulsion in taeyong's eyes the moment he opened that door and saw you standing before him, no doubt thinking about: oh, look, it's the crazy murderer with a fucked up family standing in front of me.
he had shut the door in your face. you stood awkwardly for a good minute in the hallway until the door reopens, taeyong handing you a small piece of paper with doyoung's new address scribbled hurriedly in black ink. he doesn't give you a chance to thank him for he's already closed the door again without another word.
you opted walking to his place instead of catching a ride because the money you have on you is enough to buy yourself dinner. to say the least, the apartment building is mediocre, not too grand, nor is it too rundown. double-checking the floor level written on the paper before pushing the elevator's button, you then realize doyoung lives on the very top floor of the building.
the hallways are painted a boring brown. some acrylic number signs plastered on the doors are broken, hanging vertically with one screw left. it says on the paper he resides in room 720. taking the right hallway, you mentally count as you eye the mahogany doors. 718… 719… there it is!
when you raise a fist to start knocking on his door, there is a tinge of hesitation surging through you. perhaps being alone with a boy in his apartment is not the best setting for a girl like you should end up in, but this is doyoung we're talking about. if he had ill intentions for you, it would've manifested a long time ago. you shake your head, feeling bad for thinking of him that way as you slowly knock on his front door. not long after, it swings open, revealing the 3rd-year in a white shirt and boxers as he lazily dries his hair off with a small towel.
"you're late," is the first thing he says to you before spinning on his heel to disappear further into his humble abode.
"you didn't exactly inform me you've moved out of the dorms. so, whose fault is it?" you retaliate, inviting yourself in and closing the front door shut.
"whatever. let's get started!" he plops himself on the floor, coffee table filled with loose papers as he struggles to find a specific one amongst the mess. "i've already scanned, exported to pdf, and emailed you my notes. it should be in your inbox by now. anyway, answer this quiz i made so i know what i'll be working on."
"you didn't really have to send your notes, doyoung. i could've just read everything from the textbook," you sit down across from him because otherwise, you'll be too distracted to remember information.
a thought crosses his mind. with what textbook?
"i just think it's missing some essence. that's why i love reading over other psych books in the library for fun. be grateful, those notes are like my babies and i don't simply give them to anyone," he looks at you pointedly. "they've all been summarized and explained in layman's terms so you wouldn't have to spend grueling hours of reading and trying to make sense of the big words as i did — i know that's not the definition of 'fun' normally, but it is for me, and that's why i do it."
"okay, doyoung. you sound so defensive when there's nothing to be defensive about," you tease, feeling pleased with the hint of red on his cheeks as he averts his gaze from yours, muttering incoherent words under his breath.
you spent the following tuesdays, thursdays, and sundays like that; hours upon hours with no one but your tutor, laptops with tangled chargers, a printed copy of his babies, and a mountain pile of loose papers filled with the specialized quizzes doyoung makes to measure your progress. the location varies from a cafe or his flat. but in what you've gathered from the time you spent with him, doyoung's a homebody. cafe tutor sessions are rare, and he always complained about how "noisy" the atmosphere was — "i can't stand it."
but the conversation hadn't always been about academics.
sure, for the first few sessions, doyoung kept an image of professionalism and had heavily insisted on it — "it's for your learning experience!" — despite your lighthearted teasing. but as time passed and he eventually grew more comfortable in your presence, you find the strict 15-minute break he had initially imposed between 45 minutes of studying turned into hours of talking about whatever; how he likes his eggs in the morning, your favorite coffee brew, his favorite show, your strongest pet peeve.
and you wholly welcomed the change, not minding that it's practically dark out whenever you go back to your miserable dorm. you feel butterflies in your stomach whenever doyoung offers to walk you home but never had you taken his offer, still cautious of other people seeing you both together despite his constant reassurances. you've already thoroughly ruined your image. you didn't want to ruin his, too.
kdy the cute tutor, 2:14 pm
—last day of midterms! & its all majors today
—good luck
—remember what i taught u
—lets get ice cream after u cant say no
you shake your head bemusedly. his texting style is the most doyoung thing he does and it's as if you can hear him say these things to you in real life. too caught up in your own world, you fail to detect another student sitting next to you and had nearly fallen off your chair in shock when they spoke.
"why are your notes like that?"
you fight the urge to glare at the person, especially when you turn your head and see lee jeno looking at you in genuine curiosity. he's the only batchmate that treats you a wee bit nicer among the rest. although he isn't technically your friend, at least he doesn't look at you like you're a piece of bubblegum stuck under his shoe like all the others.
"what do you mean?"
"they're… the definitions are all jumbled up. where did you even get that?"
what? jumbled up? doyoung himself said these notes are a combination of most of the psychology books he had read last year concerning his subjects. how would it be jumbled up? then again, lee jeno was not tutored by the prodigy himself. maybe things are bound to seem "jumbled up" when information is too great to understand for a feeble mind.
just as you were about to claim these notes aren't yours, the professor has already waltzed into the classroom with a thick wad of papers — the exams. after one last concerned glance directed your way, jeno averts his gaze with a confused tilt of the head.
hours later, you walk out of the classroom with the biggest smile on your face. aced it, you thought. your hands feel numb with how much you wrote on the essay portion but it's worth it if it meant you get the full 25 points, which you no doubt will as it was a topic you surely tackled with doyoung. speaking of... he sure is a man of his word.
"what are you doing here?" you hiss, head ducked with hair framing your face as to not draw attention from the rest of the students filing out of the testing hall.
"i texted you that we're getting ice cream. remember?"
"i did. but i didn't remember agreeing."
he shoots you a comforting smile, planting his hands firmly on your shoulder. “i told you, y/n. i don't care if they all see us together, so what? we all know you didn't commit that crime and it wasn't your fault you were born into the family you had. i don't care about the trivial things, baby, so don't shy away from me, okay?"
how the fuck can you say 'no' when he's looking at you the way he is as he brushed a loose strand of hair behind your ear? doyoung's just so bewitching that he has you wrapped around his slender fingers. he seems pleased when you stumbled over your words as you come up with a reply, caught off guard by his bold gestures.
"i just — you, uhh — fine..." you gave in, rolling your eyes out of pretense.
he just had to call you 'baby' and erupt the butterflies in your stomach.
it had been doing that for the last few months now and it had only truly manifested today when he took you out for ice cream to celebrate the end of hell week. and since you didn't want to go back to your dorm yet, you asked if you guys can watch some movies in his house but it had simply become background noise to your heart-to-heart talks. and what better accompaniment than the classic, chicken and beer?
you listen to him drone on and on about the little realizations he had on some of his past lectures even when you barely understood anything he's saying. doyoung's so lucky to be extremely good at something he's so passionate about, talks about the human mind and the complexity of a person's behavior will never fail to make his eyes light up in interest.
he calls out your name.
your eyes snap open.
"why don't we get you home? it's past 10 and it's alright, stupid, you don't need to pretend to be interested in my psychological findings." he chuckled light-heartedly, stealing the can of the now room-temperature beer from your hands before you can protest.
"i wasn't dozing off, i swear."
"i caught you in the act. stop lying."
like all the other times he has you as his guest, doyoung once again offers to walk you home and you decline for the thousandth time. it really isn't that much of a long walk anyway. you don't see the need for him to go out of his way to secure your safety. plus, you were the one who insisted on hanging out in his house anyway. you weren't that thick-skinned to let him take you home, too.
"you're drunk!" he scolds.
“no, i’m not. i can perfectly handle myself."
"but —"
"bye!"
you feel a little guilty for shutting the door in his face. still, a minute longer of his persistence and you would've taken his offer. unfortunately for doyoung, you are one stubborn girl. only if you don't make brisk movements with your head, then you won't see doubles. you'll be fine, it's just a quick walk and it's not as if you're stupid enough to pass by deserted alleys.
but you had underestimated the divine prowess of your fucked up fate.
everything happened in a matter of three seconds; one, the blinding headlights illuminate your path from behind; two, you hear the loud honk, and as you turn around — three, the vehicle sends you rolling against the asphalt.
you should have taken the alleyways.
for his second act;
he alters your reality.
when you open your eyes, you thought you were dead and your spirit is wandering elsewhere — because you don't believe in trivial things like heaven and god — until an agitated doyoung comes into view. for a split second, you thought, is he dead, too?
"i'm not dead, you idiot." too dazed, you hardly register his anger. "i can perfectly handle myself, she said. i'm not drunk, she said. this wouldn't have happened if you had simply let me walk you home! you're damn fucking lucky you're alive and breathing right now!"
a person clears their throat.
"i don't think it wise to… nag at the patient the moment she wakes. don't you agree, sir?"
pink splotches on doyoung's cheek as he looks down, embarrassed at getting scolded as he stands closer to your bed. "i'm sorry, doc."
you didn't know when your vision cleared or when you started hearing normally again, but it was enough to find out what exactly had transpired on the very night of your tragic accident. a hit and run. fifty-fifty chance of surviving. doyoung getting a call from the hospital in the middle of the night —"they were trying to contact your dad, but he wasn't answering. i was the last person in your call history."
six months in a coma. but today, you wake… only to find out your world has crashed and burned.
"what do you mean i lost my scholarship?"
"baby, listen to me —"
"why did they take it away? is it because of my accident? i'm behind by one term only and i swear i can catch up. they need to let me back in the program. there must've been some mistake —"
"your gpa didn't reach the cut-off grade."
that can't be possible.
"but you tutored me!" you claim with conviction, pointing an accusatory finger at him until you groan, bowing in pain as you clutch your head.
doyoung springs into action. the chair's legs screech against the tiles as he jumps to your aid, ushering you gently back against the hospital bed despite your refusal. "you're not well. lay back down, please."
you don't hear a single word he says, not when you had lost something so crucial. "i put in the effort and learned everything you taught me... i aced those fucking mid-terms! i know i did!" you were on the brink of tearing up as doyoung settled himself in front of you.
"i… i actually saw your papers," his lips set in a thin, hard-line. "everything was all wrong, sweetheart. what happened to you? i tried reasoning with the professors, mentioned your state — you know, with your best friend dying — but they didn't relent. i'm sorry y/n. i'm so —"
gone. everything is gone. the money. the dorm. what if they ask you to pay the fees from last year? what if they ask you to pay the tuition fee for this year? you have no money, no family, no relatives. no one to help. who's even going to pay for the hospital fees?
you weren't able to process anything after that. not with the sudden news of your now revoked scholarship. doyoung pulls you in a tight hug. "i was a bad tutor," he says, snapping you out of it. "maybe i shouldn't have pushed you that hard to learn them. why were your answers even mixed up y/n? i thought you knew those topics already…"
he pulls away, observing your confused state as your eyes dart everywhere in the room. "what — how are they mixed up? i know i got them right. there has to be some mistake. you taught me those topics, remember?"
"i did... "he averts his gaze. "but i don't remember teaching them to you mixed up, darling. i think you did that all on your own."
"but… why would i mix up my answers? that's —"
"see, what i mean?" he cuts you off, raising a hand to give your cheek the most delicate caress. "you're not well, baby. you need to be treated, especially with how much you hit your head during the accident. don't worry, i'm here. we'll try asking if you can stay in the dorms at least until you find another place —"
"am i a charity case to you?"
oh, the surprise on the junior's face when you push him away as you pin him with a hard stare. you just don't get it. why is kim doyoung so adamant about helping you? in becoming your hero, even when you never asked him to be? if you let him help you this time around, that'll be the 3rd time he came to save your ass. it's not as if you're ungrateful. simply, you've had enough of his help. you don't know how a person like you, who literally has nothing, can return the favor to someone like doyoung.
"what are you saying —"
"i'm saying…" you fix him a hard stare. "you helping me out doesn't even benefit you in the slightest. so why do you do it?"
he pauses, staring at you with hesitance in his eyes as this seems to be the very first time you've truly seen him speechless. when doyoung opens his mouth, he mumbles, and you hardly make sense of what he said.
"do you really want to know why?"
you urge him on with an arched eyebrow, his softened tone creeping into your heart.
"you're someone special to me y/n. i don't know how or when i admitted it to myself, but you are, and it hurts me to see how shitty your luck is," he cracks a small grin, slowly settling back onto the hospital bed as he grabs your hand. "it's okay to seek help from others. it isn't a sign of vulnerability or weakness. i help you because i want to, and i'm more than willing to take care of you. will you let me?"
you're not blind. you've noticed the way he had slowly started coming closer as he continued to speak, hands held securely in his as he looked straight at your eyes then down at your lips. and so, you act in a way you know that will surely answer his question — with a kiss.
the man before you immediately reciprocates, overpowering your own eagerness as he curls the tips of his fingers into the roots of your hair. he pulls you close, cradling you against his chest. you can taste his desperation in the way his tongue dances against yours, the kiss transporting you into an alternate reality where your world revolves around doyoung and doyoung alone.
when he pulls away bleary-eyed, both of you ignore the thin strand of saliva connecting your lips. "how about you come live with me for the time being, my love?"
still high off his kiss and natural scent, you hardly mull over the question he asks you. "okay."
days later, after you've been discharged (he wanted to chip in for your hospital bills but you had given him a firm no), doyoung had been the one to show up at the dorm to collect all your things after leaving you in his apartment. the cutie had refused to simply drop you off and had deliberately accompanied you up the elevator, through the halls, and finally into his apartment.
"i'll be out for just a minute, sugarcube."
"oh, can you get take out?"
doyoung had smiled, playfully booping the tip of your nose. "no, because i'll be cooking for us tonight as a little celebration for you getting discharged. you'll love it; i'm making your favorite!"
it was funny how the night had been nothing but utter bliss. the foreign feeling of being taken care of sprouting in your chest as you watch him cooking from behind the counter. it felt… nice. but funny enough, as if doing a 360, you both had immediately gotten into an argument the next day.
"i don't see the need for skipping another day if i feel perfectly fine! i'll figure something out once we get there, doyoung, so can we just —"
"you' re not fine, babylove — hell, you got discharged yesterday! i'm not just about to let you back into the arena with those students. they've only grown more immature since your coma, love. i seriously don't want you near them."
"fine! then i won't talk to them. simple." you throw your hands up. "there. problem solved. now, can we please just go to uni? i need to talk to the dean and the head of student affairs, too —"
"i'm going to uni, not you."
maybe it had been the way he firmly stated his claim, the way his eyes pierced through your soul as if daring you to argue further with him that made you snap.
"i'm not a prisoner in this apartment, doyoung! don't treat me like i have the plague! i'm perfectly capable of taking care of myself — jesus christ, i've been doing it nearly half my fucking life!"
too caught up in your anger, you've failed to notice the tears pouring down his face as he sets his gaze on the floor.
"you're right," his voice cracks. "i shouldn't be pushy like that. i'm sorry. you just mean so much to me and i'm so scared of losing you again. with your coma — i just — it's like i was fighting a losing battle each day that passed when i saw you in that hospital bed. i've never felt so scared in my whole life and i hated myself for not being able to protect you that night."
his tears run like waterfalls, and when you step forward with your arms wide open, doyoung sobs harder as he pulls you against him. you hardly comprehend what he says as he spoke, shaking against your frail body as you felt his tears stain your blouse. "i'm sorry, i never should've dictated what you felt — i'm so sorry."
"no, it's okay. i was feeling a little lightheaded, anyway. i'll stay here and i can come back to school next semester, right? doyoung? just… please stop crying."
he lifts his head, staring at you with bloodshot eyes before giving your forehead a kiss. you let a relieved sigh escape your lips, melting into his warmth as you prop your chin on his shoulder. if you had only been more attentive, you would've seen the reflection of his wicked grin on the tabletops. too easy.
living with him became a blur after that incident. everything fell into a routine for the next four days as you spent the day watching netflix, eating, reading, sleeping. nothing felt fun anymore. but your peaceful life had ceased during the fifth night — the whispers, they woke you up. you can hear them from behind your door at night, and when you rouse awake, you see doyoung walking around the hallway from the tiny gap at the bottom of the door. you had sighed, falling back into your plush bed as you pray to god, he keeps it down.
but what he told you the next day rendered you speechless. "me, walking around the hallways? whispers?" he says, confused. "i was already asleep, love. knocked out cold the moment my body fell on the bed."
"but…"
he doesn't spare you a glance as he takes his sweet time skimming through his notes on the dining table, coffee in one hand. "maybe it's just the meds kicking in."
"no, surely it was real! i literally woke up in the middle of the night," you repeat. "it's okay if it was you, doyoung. i'm not mad."
he sets his coffee mug down a little too loud.
"well, you can't be mad at me, sugar, because like i said — it wasn't me," it doesn't take a genius to notice he's awfully cranky today. you observe him, dark half-moons under his eyes as he relentlessly reads his notes with instant coffee in one hand.
"you're just imagining things, okay? stop acting crazy."
for some reason, the way he had uttered certain words like 'imagining' and 'crazy' made you curl into your seat in embarrassment. he was right that your doctor did prescribe a generous amount of pills per day, but his tone made it feel off, made you feel like there was something wrong with you even when there wasn't…
right?
you didn't say a word after that and had hesitantly pecked him on the cheek before he left for school. with the amount of time you're with him, two things stood out to you — his keen sense of observation and his knack for reading people. you highly doubt he didn't notice a shift in your behavior but a part of you thinks it's just the stress talking. he is about to take his finals and had recently started on his research paper.
every psych student is required to present a paper in accordance with the department's annual theme. it could be anything from proposing a theory (if you dare) to constructing a well-developed psychology model. if you don't turn one in, you don't graduate — the paper's that important, and you've been bugging him for so long about sneaking a peek on what his study is about. but he always refused.
the next week came rolling around, and both of you had been spending every day together due to the semestral break. the arguments have significantly lessened, but your episodes — eventually, you started calling it that way because that's how doyoung labels it — have only gotten worse. you end up moving out of the guest room and into his. privacy be damned. the whispers stopped momentarily but what came next became your imminent downfall.
the first time you heard it, you thought you were dreaming. but the doorknob kept rattling aggressively even as you sat up. just as you climb off the bed, your half-asleep boyfriend asks where you're going.
"bathroom," you lied.
you were always the one to snort when it comes to the supernatural, claiming it's all bullshit. yet, as whatever outside continues to fight its way inside the room, the rattling progressing into loud bangs against the door, you're not so sure of your beliefs anymore. you're not crazy. nothing is wrong with you, and you're perfectly fine. this apartment is cursed, and you are going to prove that to doyoung.
grabbing your phone from the bedside table, you turn the flash on, pointing the camera at the door as you take a footage of the mad entity that has been playing games with you. a squeal escapes your lips when a particular bang! reverberates louder in the room than all the others. the phone slips your hand, falling onto the floorboards. you don't bother to retrieve it as you scramble to get yourself back under the blanket and into doyoung's comfortable warmth.
you snuggle yourself plush against his chest, shaking as you wrap your arms around his waist, inhaling his natural scent to anchor you back.
bang! bang! bang!
you didn't get a wink of sleep last night.
"can't the video wait? there's a new episode of start-up, and i want to watch it already!" he whines, shoving his face further on the throw pillow situated on your lap.
you giggle, shaking your head as you scroll through your gallery to find the video. i'm not imagining things. i'm not hallucinating. i'm not crazy. "here! watch... i'm telling you this apartment is haunted, and the ghost probably likes you, which is why it doesn't bother you —"
your lighthearted rambling cuts off when you notice no sound emitting from your phone. weird. you could've sworn you started recording right when the loud banging has already started. your heart drops upon the wary stare doyoung shoots you before he continues to watch the video.
no, no, no, no — please!
you quickly scoot over to his side, watching as the video unfolds before your very eyes. the shot was messy as the phone was handheld, not to mention you were panicking at the time. but the video is silent. not a single noise of a rattling doorknob or banging on the door can be heard through your phone's speakers.
"maybe — maybe you didn't turn the volume up?"
you hardly contain the mortification in your face when you realize the volume's at 100 already. and as if on cue, your squeal is heard in the video and the noise of the phone hitting the floor.
doyoung's silence shakes your whole being. as you kneel before him teary-eyed, your voice breaks. "i swear, i'm not crazy."
but at this point, you don't believe yourself anymore.
for his third and final act;
he triumphs.
his deprivation began in minuscule ripples.
it didn't take much effort on doyoung's end to convince you to stop studying for a year or two, at least, only until your hallucinations aren't as severe anymore. everyday felt like hell on earth as the fine line between what's real and what isn't has blurred over one too many times. in sheer paranoia of accidentally hurting him in his sleep, you moved out of his bedroom and had started sleeping in the guest room again — much to doyoung's frustration.
but he's a smart man, one that recognizes an opportunity amidst the hurdles thrown on his path.
"why does my door need a lock outside again?"
he approaches you, who’s sitting cross-legged on the bed, after screwing in the last of the screws that came with the new doorknob. doyoung is familiar with the look written on your face, has observed and studied you enough to navigate his way inside your pretty little head with ease.
he can't have you doubting him, can he?
"you know i'm all about protecting you, right?" he starts. you nodded. "i've been doing it for a year now, and i will continue to do so until you need me to. the world is a bad place, sweetheart, remember? your own best friend's mother tried framing you. your dad disowned you. you've been ostracized in the whole college... do you think i'm just like the rest of them, baby?"
doyoung has already mastered the perfect expression of a kicked-puppy, one that easily pulls at your heartstrings and has you cooing at him.
"no!" you say with conviction, reaching forward to thread your fingers through his. "i know you're different, not like any of them at all. i know you're only doing what's… best for me."
he ignores the underlying hesitance in your tone. that will be corrected, sooner or later.
doyoung tightens his hold as he kisses the back of your hand. such an innocent gesture — but such ill intentions.
"the outside lock helps me in protecting you, love. you don't need to worry about anything. just focus on getting better, alright? i'll keep the bad guys away from you."
it was during his first semester of senior year, a few months back, doyoung and a good few students of his batch had been granted the opportunity to intern for a mental hospital located near the edge of the city. he was supposed to decline the offer but you convinced him to take the spot. it had only been a two-week “job” yet it was enough for doyoung to conclude — he’d rather kill you than subject you to the horrors of what the patients have to go through in the loony bin.
eventually, the small ripples shift into unforgiving waves, dragging you into the depths as everything comes crashing down before your very own eyes.
it should have been like any other day inside the apartment. doyoung's already gone in the morning to attend classes. though not before setting a tray of your brunch on the nightstand, making sure to lock your door on his way out. he knew your nightmares and anxiety kept you up at night, resulting in longer hours of sleep during the day.
turns out, you moving out of his bedroom had been a blessing in disguise. coming home to an empty apartment has become his biggest fear yet, and you unconsciously found a solution for him. one that doesn’t have him fidgeting on his seat as he counts down the minutes ‘til he’s back by your side.
doyoung smiles unconsciously as he listens to his professor drone on and on in front of him — his mind at peace, knowing you're safe and sound in your little prison.
until he received a text that made his blood run cold.
ty, 11:34 am
—im done.
meanwhile, you rouse awake once more to thunderous poundings against your bedroom door. oh no, you thought. it's happening again. this time, there'll be no doyoung barging into your room, half-asleep and hair messy, as he tries to calm you down. you throw the blankets over you as you sob, hugging your legs against your chest as you try to 'wake yourself up' from the hallucination.
the person outside calls for your name, the desperation in their tone alighting a new-found fear in your heart. you don't know what's real anymore. is this truly happening, or is it another hallucination your fucked up mind has conjured up?
"please! it's taeyong! y/n, can you hear me?"
taeyong?
slowly, your head peaks above the blanket, warily staring at the door. doyoung has warned you about these kinds of things, has practically ingrained in your mind that whoever comes looking for you will take you away from him. not to mention, doyoung slipped one time and said he isn’t friends with taeyong anymore.
the banging on the door progresses.
“are you in there? answer me! i can’t find the key!”
you don’t say anything, merely pushing the covers off your body as you keep your eyes fixed on the beating door. it looks like it’s about to pop out its hinges as taeyong relentlessly fights his way inside your room. what are you going to do? do you open the door? oh. right. you can’t do that on your own accord. the key is with doyoung and he isn’t in the apartment at the moment.
all your thoughts come to a halt when the boy outside sends the door flying open, finally breaking the lock with one powerful kick. you flinch back, his actions pushing you on your feet, wanting to place a maximum amount of distance from the intruder.
taeyong looks frantic, disheveled as he immediately notices your alarmed state. he approaches you cautiously, hands up to show his empty palms. “hey, hey… it’s just me, y/n. i’m not going to hurt you. i’m not the enemy here.”
“doyoung doesn’t know you’re here, does he?”
the look of surprise on his face is an answer in itself. for someone doyoung had proudly claimed to have “broken” you’re still quite quick to catch up on things, taeyong observed. and he doesn’t know what to feel about it — pity? guilt?
“that’s not important!” he claims, boldly surging forward to grasp your shoulders with a firm grip. taeyong felt his heart dropping when you flinch under his grasp.
“listen to me. we need to get you out of here. doyoung isn’t — he isn’t everything you thought he is!” he can’t help but raise his voice, panic surging through him because there’s not much time left and you aren’t exactly cooperating. you’ve been trying to shrug off his hold the whole time.
“do you think he actually loves you?”
“he does! stop saying bullshit!”
“doyoung never loved anyone and you want to know why? because he’s too in love with his research to care for anything else!” taeyong felt bad to have been so direct, especially when he sees the tears now falling freely down your cheeks. “listen to me, y/n! i’m not the enemy! if there’s anyone you should be pushing away, it’s doyoung! he turned you into his lab rat! you are nothing but a variable in his study! don’t you get it?”
taeyong grabs a firm but gentle hold of your head, trying to make you look at him straight in the eye for the gravity of what he’s about to say to you.
“doyoung had his eye on you since sophomore year. i told him this was a bad idea and that he should change the topic of the research and he was. fucking hell, he was about to scrap the whole thing until your bestfriend died and did you know what that psycho told me? that it was a sign for him to continue the research! and i’ve been pestering him so much that he moved out because he claimed i was going to get in the way of his discovery.
tell you what, if you can tell me right here, right now, that he has mentioned anything — anything at all — about his study to you then everything i’m saying is a lie.”
you have asked doyoung for the longest time about that research but the answers have always been the same. “not yet, my love. it’s not time for it to be seen with your eyes. soon, okay?”
with a voice not louder than a whisper, you ask. “what… what’s his research about?”
you fail to see the sorry look on taeyong’s face. “in psychology, they say a person only develops psychosis mainly through genetics or drugs. although you’re technically already a worthy “lab rat” considering your mom and upbringing, he wanted to expand the external factors of what causes the disorder — grief, grades, toxic family relations…”
you hear a ringing in your ear and a sudden urge to throw up. only, you didn’t have anything to hurl because your brunch remains untouched on your bedside.
“but he hadn’t been successful. and that’s… that’s where i came along. doyoung thought the medications he’s been giving you isn’t doing what he wanted it to and he knew he needed a little push. i was… i gave him that push. remember the whispers, the banging on the door at night? it was all me. he made me do it. you know what that means, right? you’re not crazy. you don’t need to stay here cooped up like some kind of pet, believing all his lies as if it’s written in a fucking bible —”
he stops. and if he hadn’t, you wouldn’t’ve heard the familiar beeps of the front door’s automated lock going off. doyoung’s home.
in lightning speed, taeyong has you sheltered behind him, throwing his warm coat over you in the process, hoping to give the smallest comfort amidst the chaos that’s about to erupt. there’s no point in pretending or hiding — one look at that lock and his crazy friend would know something’s off.
taeyong feels you flinching behind him with every heavy footstep against the floorboards as doyoung wastes no time in getting to your room. and when he finally appears, hands braced against the door frame, you’ve never been this scared your whole life. his eyes are drawn into slits, fixated on taeyong alone. “how fucking dare you?”
“it’s over, doyoung. give it up or you wouldn’t have to suffer a longer sentence than you’ll already get.” taeyong tried with his whole being to appear intimidating.
“what’re you saying, yong? i meant, how fucking dare you barge in here and disturb my girlfriend in her sleep? that’s not very nice of you…” doyoung sports a disarming gummy smile as he approaches, hand outstretched and beckoning towards you. “c’mere, baby. i don’t think you’ve eaten lunch yet?”
“drop the fucking act, you psycho!”
“what act?” doyoung tilts his head innocently, gaze shifting from taeyong’s and yours, who keeps peeking from over his ex-friend’s shoulder. luring you out is a piece of cake unless taeyong decides to make things a wee bit more complicated, doyoung thought. “i’m just concerned for my darl —”
“we’re leaving.” taeyong cuts him off, breaking eye contact as he places a firm grip around your wrist. he pulls you towards him, farther away from your supposed lover as he tries walking past doyoung.
but the said man pushes taeyong back with a humorless smile on his face. “and who told you that you can do that?”
a pregnant silence befalls the room as the two men size each other up. they regard each other with such hostility, you can't help but unconsciously fist the back of taeyong's sweater in nervousness, prompting the man to turn his head over his shoulder for a swift second to check up on you.
but a second is all that doyoung needed to deliver the first kick towards taeyong's legs, throwing him off his balance. if it was one thing doyoung knew, is that he needed to eliminate taeyong's agility all together if he wants to win against him.
but taeyong isn't one to back down. the moment doyoung straddles him on the floor, with a fist raised to throw a punch, taeyong grunts as he rolls them around. doyoung now receiving taeyong's rain of fists as he yells. "fuck you! you manipulative asshole!"
you sat on the corner, horrified of the scene happening before you. you've never seen doyoung this way. he has always been your sweet, caring bunny, but after everything taeyong said, you aren't so sure you even know the man you've been living with.
"everything i did, i did it for her!" you flinch at the sound of bones breaking as doyoung kicked taeyong's ribs. "she had nothing to lose! i saved her!"
the door is open, you noticed. wide-open and inviting you to make a run for it. and you would have made a run for it... but taeyong. you can't leave him behind, not when he lays there bloody and grunting in pain as doyoung lets his anger take over him. so, as stupid as may be, you did it. you had to.
"you didn't save me," you say, schooling your face into indifference as doyoung whips around, forgetting about taeyong in the bat of an eye. "you caged me in here, treated me like there's something wrong with me, gaslighted me into believing everything you said! and... what did you say? 'saved me'? you made me go through hell!"
the whole time, taeyong tries his hardest to stand upright, but his broken ribs don't allow him to. the pain too great that he had no choice but to crawl instead, arms pulling his weight as he drags himself across the floorboards, desperately trying to get doyoung's attention back on him even if it meant getting beaten to death.
meanwhile, he had his eyes trained on you the whole time you spoke, sobbing as you walk backward in fear as doyoung approached you with a dark glint in his eye. he doesn't like what you're saying; that much is very clear. he wanted to yell at you, to scream of your ungratefulness despite his constant care but instead, he says.
"i thought we were making progress, baby. i guess i have to drill everything in your brain again. you're not okay, but you will be after i treat you."
you try to fight the urge to look at taeyong as he finds his strength, silently rising up from the floor to ambush doyoung while he's so busy preaching about you.
"what i said is true, baby. do you actually think this scum over here is doing this to save you? do you actually believe everything he said? i've been here since day-1, my love. literally. and have i ever let you down? no. everything i'm doing is for us. even this damned research!"
taeyong surges forward to put him in a chokehold, but everything happened so fast, and the next thing you knew —
"did you actually think i'd fall for that?"
you didn't know the sound of a knife cutting through flesh could sound that loud, but nothing could beat the strained gasp that tumbled through taeyong's lips as he shakily held the knife pierced through his heart. you would've been concerned about how doyoung got it so accurate in one go or where the knife even came from. but you were too busy screaming, collapsing against the wall as you let out a broken sob.
"no," you mutter. "no, no, no..."
you can't bear to avert your eyes from taeyong as he lies dying before you. the look of fear in his eyes would forever be ingrained in your mind, and no amount of brainwashing or gaslighting would ever make you forget.
doyoung killed him. you lost.
the knife clatters loudly on the floor as he slowly turns around as if he himself has yet to register what he did. you didn't know what to expect from doyoung's reaction but certainly not the eerie smile that starts spreading on his face.
"now... how about that lunch, baby?"
✉ : a repost no one asked but i respectfully dont give a fuck <3
#hmu if i missed a warning#yandere doyoung#yandere kpop#yandere nct#yandere nct 127#tw swearing#tw manipulation#tw violence#tw knife
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Why Kaishin Still Holds Up, Even Now.
I FINALLY watched the 23rd Detective Conan and let me tell you what...
Why are there not more episodes with these two working so closely together? Like please?! They got that solved so quickly and just shared information with one another and can I please just have them interact before the series ends pleaaaaaase.
Yet I'm not here for begging. I'm here to rant and cleverly disguise that rant as an essay.
I want to rant about trust in Detective Conan (specifically with a look at Kaishin) and the Enemies turned Rivals turned Friends turned Lovers trope.
[Mild Spoilers Ahead]
Trust as a Driving Force in Detective Conan
If someone asked me what is one of the many driving forces in the DC plot as well as the cornerstone of many of the relationships in DC it would be trust. Most of the characters in DC are living their lives with lies as the foundation of who they present themselves to be.
And here is something that I love about the relationship these two have with one another:
The trust that Shinichi has on Kid was earned and vice versa.
I don't think that Shinichi thinks that Kaito Kid is the most honest person in the world, but he does know that the magician works by a code and he trusts him to not put someone in any immediate danger despite the fact that Kaito Kid does not inherently talk too deep about his heists with him.
Ask yourself this. Where in canon did it say that in Kid's heist nobody gets hurt by Kid? I've read the manga and nowhere does he really say 'this is a safe show for everybody!' Let me tell you where it says it: Nowhere.
So why do we all assume it to be that way? Because even we have trust in our favourite thief that he won't do something to actively hurt someone. Since the story is being told in Shinichi's point of view, most of the times, we can rely on the trust that Shinichi has placed on Kid to not get anyone hurt.
One big example of this would be in the Detective Conan Movie: The Sunflowers of Inferno:
Leaving Ran in Kid's care is a conscious decision he is doing despite the fact that he doesn't know if Kid is even going to make it out. Shinichi loves Ran probably more than he loves himself and he wants her out of danger enough to place trust in someone that, situation wise, has no business whether Ran or Shinichi live or not. I honestly think that even Kid was surprised that Shinichi made that decision.
Now I'm not going to put my shipper goggles when I make this statement and go 'OH MY GOD THEY LOVE EACH OTHER SO MUCH IT SHOWS IT EVERYWHERE. LOOK AT THE SHOW, STUPID."
But these two have something that not many of the characters in DC have and that is a mutual trust without knowing all the details of their lives.
Kaito happened to guess that Conan was Shinichi and I doubt that Shinichi is going to meet Kuroba Kaito by the end of the series. These two barely know each other but through their interactions just happen to understand each other enough to work together amazingly when thrust into a situation where they have to help each other out.
Which brings me to the second thing I want to talk about.
My Enemy Went From Being My Rival to My Friend to my Lover, What Happens Now?
I want to break into Gosho's house and ask him to please let Kaito Kuroba meet Shinichi Kudou. Like this is such a might need that I'm almost scared of looking forward to the ending of DC because I just have a feeling it isn't going to happen.
I might also ask him why the hell every side character needs a romance subplot but that is neither here nor there.
But now that the ships have been decided and canon has sealed the final nail on everything, I just want to talk about the trope that makes Kaishin just so amazing for me.
If I am remembering my facts right, Magic Kaito came before Detective Conan. Kaito was a realized character, somewhat, and was clearly a very likable chara with a ridiculous high IQ and a secret he couldn't reveal to anybody.
I mean he's a goddamn beautiful man is what I'm trying to say.
When I first read the series I could immediately tell that Aoko was set to be the romantic interest, Gosho really ain't fooling nobody. She seemed cute, extroverted and a girl who seems to really care for Kaito. Of course there was the juicy tidbit of Kaito being the thief her father is hunting down that also kept the relationship interesting.
So I was more than okay with having these two together.
I was already a bit aware of Detective Conan so I was all for the ShinRan as well. The pining, the secrets, the care that Shinichi has for her that transcends the organizations doing!
Also fun fact: Kaito/Aoko was the basis for Shinichi/Ran! Which is why ShinRan is thematically better than Kaito/Aoko but I will not go into that.
So one sad day during quarantine, I decided to rewatch the series to see if I could get any writing inspiration.
Now I don't know if it was quarantine or a change of heart or just me growing up but Gosho's friend trope seemed boring to me the more the episodes continued on. I AM NOT THROWING THE FRIENDSHIP TROPE DOWN, IT IS BEAUTIFUL I STILL SHIP SHINRAN
But I was tired of picking vanilla and wanted to see what else was on the menu.
And as luck would have it, I had decided to watch episode 515: Kaito Kid's Teleportation Magic and fate decides to deliver me a wonderful hit to the heart:
What is it about characters pointing guns at each other that I love so much?
And Shinichi doesn't react like a normal fucking person he just goes:
He knows this man ain't gonna shoot. They have had five interactions before this (if we are going by anime episodes) and through all those interactions Shinichi managed to get to a level of banter with this guy that he hasn't had with any of his other enemies.
If he even considered Kaito Kid an enemy to begin with.
Both Kaito and Shinichi have a mutual respect for each other's skill.
They test each other out in several situations and are pleased when the other figures it out, kinda transitioning their little chases to more of a 'two really smart guys trying to outwit each other' and less of a detective trying to outsmart a thief.
Shinichi enjoys figuring out his magic and Kaito enjoys the challenge of making some of his magic tricks near impossible to figure out. Their friendship is something really special and if they can have it without even knowing the details of each other's life, imagine how strong it would be if they truly met each other face to face.
I don't really want to cross into headcanon territory that would turn them into lovers, lord knows we have more fanfiction to do so, but it is just wonderful to see these two men both living a lie respectively but finding some solace in each other that they can shut their brains off for one second and just...play.
Hell, Kid's heists might be Shinichi's safe place. In those heists he is known as the 'Kid Killer' and not just some brat who happens to figure shit out. His opinion matters in those heists.
And not just to the police, but to Kaito as well.
BUT IM GETTING OFF TOPIC!
I just wanted to show love to this wonderful ship q wq
#detective conan#dcmk#magic kaito#kuroba kaito#kudo shinichi#kaishin#what can I say?#im a sucker for two men outwitting each other to the point it turns into flirting
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"Yet even so it was Gondor that brought about its own decay, falling by degrees into dotage, and thinking that the Enemy was asleep, who was only banished not destroyed.
'Death was ever present, because the Numenoreans still, as they had in their old kingdom, and so lost it, hungered after endless life unchanging. Kings made tombs more splendid than houses of the living, and counted old names in the rolls of their descent dearer than the names of sons.
Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry; in secret chambers withered men compounded strong elixirs, or in high cold towers asked questions of the stars. And the last king of the line of Anarion had no heir."
Faramir's explanation for Gondor's ‘decline’ is... incoherent.. what the hell are you on about m’love?
The way this reads is so completely misleading when looking at the actual history and reasons for Gondor's receding borders and the loss of the watch on Mordor. Faramir puts the onus on Gondorian Kings wanting to live longer and not having kids... babe? Did you forget... the plague? Gondor WAS watching for activity in Mordor. For 1640 years! And then there was a plague so devastating that it turned the country’s most populous city into a near ghost town. It took 200 years for Gondor to recover, and even then it never truly reached the population levels it had maintained before. Osgiliath was never the same! And by then Mordor had taken the fortresses at the Morannon!
There is absolutely no mention of Kings or Stewards who were desperately seeking to extend their life in Gondor’s history. Where are these tombs more splendid than the houses of the living? All the Kings not buried in Osgiliath are buried in the Silent Street... There is no mention of achingly elaborate tombs anywhere!
There WERE however some Kings who did not marry or have children! ... Two, there were just two of them... out of thirty three. Narmacil I was Atanatar's son and reigned in the HEIGHT of Gondor's wealth. He essentially allowed his nephew Minalcar to run the country whilst he had a great time writing poetry and kissing men. And Minalcar did a really good job! He fought wars, he made alliances, he built the Argonath and when it actually came around to his time to be King, he had a nice and peaceful reign! And when his son Valacar wanted to marry a Northern Princess? Even though the worry in Gondor was that that would ‘weaken’ the King’s line and reduce their lifespan? He supported him! Gave his blessing!
The other King who never married or had any children was Earnur! You all remember Earnur? Oh sure, he desperately wanted to extend HIS life past its natural limits! Fighting in two wars and then riding off into an obvious trap just because he'd been challenged really gives me a whole 'old man in his dotage fears death' vibe. And that was the ‘last king of the line of Anarion who had no heir’. You know WHY he was the last king? Because the King before his father Earnil II (King Ondoher) and his two sons had died! In a massive fuckall war with the Balchoth that nearly saw Gondor destroyed! PRINCE Faramir was TOLD to stay behind! But he was so anxious for his family and so wished to not simply sit and wait for death that he HID amongst the ranks of the Eotheod and went to war anyway!! AND DIED!! Asking questions of the stars??? Making strange elixirs?? Mused uselessly on heraldry??? WHEN? FARAMIR?? Was Ondoher daydreaming about stars and heraldry as he was cut down by a chariot??? Was Artamir brewing potions mid-battle?? WHAT are you talking about!!!
Where are these men fearing death who brought Gondor into it's decline that Faramir is talking about? Is he lying? No, I actually believe Faramir when he says he would not even snare an orc in a falsehood. The things Faramir says are things he believes. But then how, when he is so well known for his loremastership, can he be so misleading and plain wrong about something so basic to Gondorian history? Well I have a suggestion but it means Faramir’s at least a little homophobic so bear with me and I promise this is relevant.
So, obviously, the ups and downs of Gondor society in terms of queer liberation would be complex and rely upon a diverse number of factors. However, I’d say that, if you looked at an overall trend, it goes up in times of peace and takes a hit during times of strife. The basic reasoning for this is that one of the fundamentals of Gondorian society is the concept of doom and fate. This can give both correct and erroneous impressions of cause and effect throughout history. Gondorians tend to believe everything happens for a reason. And due to the (sometimes quiet but always present) elf-and-faithful-numenorean-ruled thinkers, who push ideas of proper marriage, celebacy, romance-superiority and other cis-het-normative agendas, the ‘reason’ that bad things happen is often blamed on the queer liberation of the times. The populace is open to being given reasons for bad things happening and Academia in Gondor is very much elf-revering, so it is often respected scholars who are pushing that narrative.
HOWEVER, the queerness is rarely what is actually remembered or recorded in history, the wording of records are often bound up in the faithful numenorean rhetoric of ‘heretical kings’ and ‘they fell into the trap of king’s men ideology’ and so on and so forth. Scholars might understand what this means at the time, but it gets muddled further down the road and even academics in the future have trouble finding the intended emphasis. So! By the time we reach 3018 TA, the academic community as a whole has reached a general consensus that ‘the old sins of our past’ are to blame and that, whilst queerness was a part of it, it was more a symptom than a direct cause.
So! The thought process I’m proposing for Faramir should be easy to guess at now, but I’m going to go more specific for the sake of... me uwu.
GONDOR has not known peace for the last 500 years, not since Steward Denethor the first’s reign wherein the so called ‘watchful peace’ ended and Sauron returned to Mordor. NOW, before Denethor, his uncle Dior was the Steward and, as you’ve probably guessed, he had no children and nor did he marry. I would suggest that Dior lived through one of the most tolerant and open portions of Gondor’s history. I think he not only was open about his choice not to marry, but he also had a socially accepted partner and lived with him all his life with only a small, vocal minority voicing their objections.
But then Sauron returned! And it was brutal, bloody and horrific. And that vocal minority saw an opportunity to use Dior’s life as a method to push Gondor once again into it’s regular crisis of conscience, faith and purpose. ‘We betrayed our founder’s’ and ‘We should have been ruled by Dior’s son but because of his weakness against his ill-fate we are doomed, he abandoned his duty! A pitiful fate but pitiful for us as well!’ And so on and so forth, there are reems of academic works written about it.
Now, this doesn’t have an immediate crushing effect on queer rights that one might fear. Denethor I loved his uncle dearly and would not hear a bad word about him, as did Boromir I! And Cirion? Cirion was almost more alternative than Dior. He sold off portions of land when the Stewards had been told to keep them IN TRUST for the king’s return. He made enduring and reciprocal alliances with the Eotheod ‘middle men’, he was very much anti-traditionalist! However, it was after his reign that Gondor truly felt the backlash of all this, spurred on by Cirion’s very alternative views, actions and methods. Because whilst he may have been an effective and charismatic Steward, Cirion had not found so much time to be a good father. And Hallas had been fifteen when his father had left him behind and ridden to war. He had a frightening and lonely childhood and was very open to the idea that his father was wrong, had gone too far, that things should be ‘brought back to normal’. Stability being key and all. The vocal minority had his ear.
And since then, whilst opinion has still fluctuated, the constant unrest and simmering crisis of Gondor’s day to day has made progress against such concepts difficult and slow going. And it’s informed the opinion of history too, a lot more academic writing has compared Dior to Narmacil I (the first unwed and unmarried King) and has tried to find parallels between them and Earnur. Any explicit discussion of queerness has been relegated to Sindarin scripts (the language only really understood by academics and the upper classes), but the underlying tone is there HENCE!
“falling by degrees into dotage, and thinking that the Enemy was asleep“ = Dior ‘abandoned his duty’ and Narmacil I ‘was indolent’.
“the Numenoreans still [-] hungered after endless life unchanging.” = A melding of heretical beliefs that occurred over centuries into one monolith that applied longing for endless life automatically.
“Childless lords sat in aged halls musing on heraldry; [-] compounded strong elixirs, [-] asked questions of the stars.” = This is all both reaching back to heretical practices in Numenor, whilst also harkening back to the periods of time in which Dior and Narmacil lived, peaceful times where more introspective and experimental pursuits could be indulged.
SO! This is where Faramir’s erroneous and misleading opinions come from. And why he is at least a little homophobic. There, I told you all I’d get there.
#soap operas in mannish sindarin#gondor#tolkien#lotr#erran vs tolkien#do I fucking dare put this in faramir's tag... no#no one in there will want to hear this#lotr meta#tolkien meta
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║Xiao║Snowflake
Requested from Wattpad.
Gender-neutral.
Fluff.
Word count: 2k
---
Something was falling from the greyish clouds that has been slowly forming together over Liyue. It was white, cold, and too small for human eye to see. However, once multiples of it were gathered, you could truly see how it turned Liyue into a winter wonderland.
This sparks excitement inside you as you stare out the window of the shop you were tending at. The winds of Snezhnaya has finally brought their winter to Liyue, making it cold for the locals to idle outside for too long.
Seeing this, you did your long hours of work with great impatience, wanting to enjoy the snow with a particular someone all the way in the outskirts of the city-- in Wangshu Inn. You just know that he'll be the most excited between the two of you-- although he won't show it or say it.
"Have a good night!" That was the cue. Yes, it was evening by the time you got out of work, but your excitement left you restless and headed to the inn, greeting Verr Goldet and her husband in the lobby as soon as you got there. And not wanting to prolong you any longer, the woman simply pointed up the flight of stairs that leads to a highest level possible.
However, when you got there, there was not a single being to be seen. You didn't feel down though, knowing that he was probably off to secure the night around the inn and nearby places that doesn't have the protection of the Millelith.
You walked closer to the ledge, your eyes seeming to glow in admiration at the snow that covered Liyue in less than a day. But before you could put a hand on the railing, a "What are you doing here?" brought your attention behind you.
To nobody's surprise, Xiao stood there with his arms crossed, his eyes glowing in the dark, but not so much as the light from inside the inn emitted a brightight. "Xiao!" The name that left your lips was enough to make you smile. Though in his part, his eyes slightly narrows while a brow quirks in question, but that was long forgotten when he growls at the state you were in. "Where is your coat?" he asks, walking closer to you.
It was just then that you realized that you had forgotten to bring a coat and felt the harsh breeze stinging your skin. You wrapped your arms around yourself, rubbing your arms to create some sort of heat. "Ehe, I was rushing to get here so I forgot to go home and bring one," you admitted, the smile never leaving your face. This did not amuse the yaksha and clicks his tongue in dissatisfaction. "Even when a millennia has passed, humans can be so stupid," he grumbles. "Wait here." Before you could ask, he turns on his heels and went downstairs, leaving you alone in the cold.
When he returns- which didn't take long- he was carrying a wool blanket in one arm. Approaching your person, he wraps the blanket around you like a wrap. Warm and comfortable.
You look down at the blanket and slightly blushed at the thought that it could be warmer if he hugged you, wrapping his firm, strong, and protective arms around your shoulders-- Oh no, you shouldn't fantasise something like that.
Looking at your state, Xiao couldn't help but feel the warm, tingly sensation on his face. You looked cute and small. He almost wants to lock you away so that no one else would be able to see just how truly cute you were. However, he snaps himself from indulging the thought, realizing how inappropriate it was especially for an Adepti such as himself.
With hand covering his mouth, he clears his throat. "Anyway, what are you doing here?" he asks, his voice sounding cold, but you know that he meas well and that it was just the way he speaks. "I wanted to share the first snow with you!" you admit, your smile doubling the size.
He raises an eyebrow. "Huh? Share the first snow?" he repeats, to which you nod. "I heard that you should always spend the first snow with someone special." Hearing you reason, he sighs heavily. "You humans always come up with something stupid." He closes his eyes and crosses his arms.
"It's not stupid it's sweet!" you defended, the blanket slightly slipping off your shoulders. Xiao took notice and moved even closer to fix it, but afterwards, his hands haven't left your shoulders and he just stares at you. It was only 5 seconds, but you felt kind of awkward, eyes averting to anywhere but his charming face. "S, so, uh.. I came here to ask if you wanted to play in the snow with me.." you mumbled.
There was no response on the other end and it was only when your eyes returned to look directly at him that he quickly answers with an "Okay" before swooping you off the ground and jumped off from the inn. In fear, you wrapped your arms around his neck and hold on for dear life.
It only took a couple of seconds to reach the ground safely but to you, it felt like it was your end. Xiao looks at you and couldn't help but huff out a chuckle. "Hey, do you think I would drop you?" he asks, watching you open your eyes once you felt the rush of adrenaline subside.
You blinked twice and remembered how you are still hugging him. "Oh, uh.. Could you put me down?" you ask shyly, unwrapping your arms around his neck. He did as told, setting you back down gently.
Taking a look around, the snow stretched out for miles, up until the horizon where you could barely see a thing. Winter only comes once a year in Liyue and each year upon the look of snow would always leave you breathless. The snow in Liyue was much different than that in Snezhnaya as it wasn't knee-deep and children could still play around.
One step. Two step. Soon, you were running across the field and laughing. While on Xiao's part, he watches his foolish of a human with his arms cross and unknowingly to him, a smile adorns his face. His eyes softened at the sight of your smile. He always does, you just never noticed.
His eyes moves away from you and his attention was now transfixed to the snow on the ground. Seeing as he has cleared the area from enemies before meeting you at the inn, it was most likely safe for you to tumble and fall without getting the attention of monsters.
You stopped running and stood there looking at the falling snow, just about tired from running. You looked over Xiao and see that he was very focus at the snow beside him. He looked funny looking at the snow as if he was going to murder it.
Tearing your eyes away from the male and to the snow, you soon grabbed a handful of it with your bare hands and compacted it to a snowball. It was cold, but the urge to touch it was too much to take and would risk your health to play in it.
Happy with the ball, you run back to Xiao. "Hey, Xiao--" Your words were cut short when you saw Xiao pick up a handful of the snow and eat it. It wasn't all the uncommon for someone to eat snow but Xiao eating snow was truly something.
He turned his head towards you while having a snowball close to his mouth with a questioning gaze since you did originally wanted to grab his attention. "What?" he questions soon after when you just stood there like a mannequin.
"O, oh, yeah.." You blinked and regained your train of thought. "Anyway, do you want to have a snowball fight with me?" you asked, a challenging grin on your face. He raised a brow. A human asking an Adeptus to a snowball fight? It was obvious which would win so what was the point?
But seeing that smile on your face was hard to say no to. That glimmer in your eyes was intriguing, to say the least. So, he nods. "I won't go easy on you," he warns. "I didn't want you to in the first place." With that, you threw the first snow right on his face.
Even though he said he wouldn't go easy on you, he was actually much softer and let you hit him multiple times and only hitting you once or twice every now and then.
Once you had your hands on your knees, he figured that it was finally time that his human was exhausted. He walks over to you and when he was close enough, he fixed the blanket around you that surprisingly didn't fall off your shoulders.
You look at his beautiful, golden orbs that has now the time to truly glow in the dark. It was captivating. The atmosphere, the place-- everything in that moment had that magical, winter air. You two stood there, silently praising the other.
His eyes moved towards your lips, thinking how soft it would be when he places his own on it. With his hands still on your shoulders, he leans closer to your face before stopping short, his lips just a few centimetres away from yours. He was waiting to see if you would pull back.
Wanting his lips on yours, you closed the gap and felt a sudden warmth flush through your body. A hand of his made its way and caressed your cold skin, deepening the kiss. The kiss was enchanting and felt that it had been hours before you both pulled away.
When you did, a smile adorned your flushed face-- flushed from the intimate moment and from the cold. You slowly moved away and flopped down on the snow and laughed.
"Hey, you're going to get sick, you idiot," he states, crossing his arms as he watches your blanket unwrapped itself from your shoulders, now being used to keep your back dry. "Haha, no I won't! Not to be a brag, but I have a pretty strong body," you boast.
O how you felt embarrassed by those words that you said so proudly last night as you lay in bed, under layers of warm blanket. "Humans can be so stupid. Yesterday you were sure you wouldn't get sick but the next day, here I find you in bed," Xiao says, entering the room with a bowl of warm water and a washcloth.
When you didn't greet him this morning, he knew that you were sick and went to your house to take care of you immediately. "I said nothing," you spoke, holding your chin high as you feign ignorance.
He clicks his tongue but said nothing more, dipping the cloth in the warm water before squeezing it so water wouldn't be dripping on you. He moves closer to the bed and sat at the edge of it, moving any hair that covered your forehead before placing the cloth. "You should remember to bring your coat. I'm not always there to remind you like a mother," he said.
"Hey, if you're just going to bully me, then you can leave. I know I was dumb for not bringing one, okay?" You pout, though there wasn't any anger in your tone, and brought the blanket up until the bridge of your nose.
He looks at you for a short second and brought his fingers close to your face. Before you could guess what he was doing, he had flicked your forehead. "You idiot. Do you really think that I would be here in the first place if I didn't care about you?"
The words made you blush and felt a hundred times more warmer than the cloth on your head. He looks at you with a straight lip, but his eyes hinted at a different emotion. It was soft and held care for you.
He then stood up, eyes tearing away from you, and walked towards your door. With a hand on the handle, he twists it open but before he step out, he looks over his shoulders- to you- and said, "Make sure you get enough rest. I'll be here if you need me."
---
#xiao x reader#xiao oneshot#xingqiu#xiao x gender neutral reader#xiao fluff#genshin impact#genshin#genshin impact oneshots#gender neutral#genshin impact albedo#genshin zhongli#zhongli#liyue#ganyu#fluff#scaramouche
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