#the fear i have that my parents will yell at me for this is. beyond | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

dumbass-tumbler-cryptid · 23 days

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Hello! So my little rant from the other day inspired a concept for a whole new fic and I just couldn't resist writing it! I have no idea what to call this which is why I'm posting it here before a03. If anyone has any suggestions let me know. (I was thinking sins of the father but i think there's already a Quaritch and Spider fic with that name)

Anyway the premise is that the recoms were grown on Pandora instead of Earth. Instead of just killing them it's decided that they'll just keep them comatose in their pods. Until a system failure wakes them up. Spider is only seven in this fic.

Edit: I have since named this fic. It's called Visited on the Son (thank you @nilnether for helping me pick the name) and you can find it on Ao3 here

Enjoy!

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He always felt calm in the tank room under the blue glow of the synthetic amniotic fluid. The only sounds came from the steady heartbeats of the sleeping Na’vi and the idol chatter of his best friend Kiri as she talked to her comatose mother. Spider sat, staring up at his father floating peacefully in his pod. He placed his hand on the glass, as if his touch could make the man wake up. But he never would. He wasn’t allowed to wake up.

“I went to the village today,” the seven year old said in a hush. “Me and my friends made bracelets! Until their sa’nu made me come back here. I don’t like here very much sempu. It’s….cold. But at least Kiri came back with me for a little bit. Until she has to go back home, to her family…..”

The door burst open making both children jump. “Miles!” Spider shrank in fear as his foster father stormed up to him. Mr. McCosker grabbed Spider’s arm, yanking him to his feet so hard he thought his arm would rip from its socket. “Did you go to the village without permission again!” The little boy whimpered, trying to avoid the man screaming in his face. “Answer me!” Nash shook him.

“Yes,” Spider cried.

“How many times do I have to tell you! No one wants you there!”

“I want him there,” Kiri yelled, “and so do my brothers!”

Spider smiled despite the tears in his eyes. Nash growled, “well the adults don’t want him there. And you know better than to just run off…”

“But you were busy,” Spider said timidly, “I just wanted to play…”

Nash roughly pulled on his arm again making Spider yelp, “oh you just wanted to play,” his foster father mocked, “you can play by yourself! Do you have any idea the trouble you cause every time you do this!” Nash spun him around to face his sempu. “You're just like your father. A wicked little beast. Why they even bother keeping these things alive is beyond me. It’s a waste of time and resources. Just like you.” Spider’s bottom lip trembled but he didn’t shed a tear. He was used to Mr.McCosker’s angry rants. “Now come on! I hope you like your room because you're gonna be spending a lot of time in there thinking about what you did. And you can forget about dinner….”

Spider locked eyes with Kiri as he was dragged from the room. He waved, giving her a sad smile, mouthing bye. He knew she wanted to fight for him. They’d been through this all before and so she knew that Spider would rather she stay out of it. Still she smoldered with rage, fist clenched at her sides. Spider spared one last glance at his father’s tank before being completely taken from the room. Bye sempu.

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That night as Spider tried and failed to sleep with his painfully empty stomach an alarm sounded through all of Hell’s Gate having the entire base up and moving in moments. Spider covered his ears burying himself under his blankets as red lights flashed. This had never happened before. What is this? What should I do? He could faintly hear his foster parents through the noise, Mr.McCosker stomping through the apartment and out the door, Mrs. McCosker pacing the living room as she made a call. But Spider didn’t want to go to them. He didn’t want to be anywhere near them.

He focused his attention through the small window above his bed. The floodlights were on outside as people ran back and forth. He knew deep down that something was seriously wrong. But it couldn’t be too bad if his foster parents hadn’t come to get him. They wouldn’t just leave him behind, right? Eywa help me, he silently prayed.

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The first thing he was aware of was the heaviness of his own breathing. Then came the sound of his heart beating slow and steady. Next was the feeling of floating. Finally as his senses returned he opened his eyes to a mix of soft shimmering blue light and harsh flashing red. What in the fuck, Miles thought as he took it all in. He was in a tank. He raised his fist to beat on the glass, making him see his body for the first time.

Ain’t this a bitch. He was na’vi now. Which only meant one thing. Focus he willed himself. First order of business was getting out of the tank. He’d deal with the rest later. Miles placed his hand on the glass, getting a scene of its thickness. Too thick to break. He looked towards his feet then above his head finding exactly what he’d hoped. An escape hatch. A few good twists was all it took for him to spill out of the container onto the linoleum floor of the labs.

His eyes roved his surroundings. The computers blared a message of system failure. No doubt the reason he woke up. To his right was the exit. To his left a row of familiar faces all wide eyed and banging on their tanks for release. Miles stumbled as he rose on unsteady alien legs. He persevered making his way to the other tanks, freeing his team one by one. “What’s going on boss,” Lyle said.

“Isn’t it obvious? We died. And now we're back.”

Lyle rolled his eyes, “I get that but this…”

“We weren’t supposed to wake up,” Z said, staring at the computer screen, “and if we’re only waking up because of a computer glitch….” She let the implication hang in the air as they all sprung into action, dressing in whatever clothes the avatars had left behind, making weapons from broken chair legs and glass shards, each looping a na’vi breathing mask around their neck.

“Alright people,” Miles said when they were ready, “for our sins in our past life we have been brought back as the enemy. In enemy territory no less. We don’t know what things look like past those doors so be ready for anything. Head on a swivel,” his team nodded, “alright. Let’s move out.” They made their way down the red lit hall in formation, Miles leading them. Aside from the alarm it was eerily quiet. All the personnel must have been off somewhere dealing with the system failure.

It only took a few quick glances for Miles to know exactly where he was. Hell’s Gate. Home sweet home. He knew this place like the back of his hand. He led his team not to the control center but to the living quarters. They’d surely be able to take some hostages there, grill them for more information. How long had it been? Who was in command? What happened to the R.D.A. His team's survival hinged on these answers.

The hallway of apartments was deserted, doors left ajar from hasty exits. They searched the rooms one by one, not a soul in sight. “Maybe we should just run while we have the chance,” said Lyle, “we don’t need masks to breathe out there anymore. We can survive…”

“I’m not runnin’ like a coward,” Miles growled. He needed to know what happened. Not only in the war but also to…

They entered the final apartment on the right hand side of the hall. Just like all the others the place had been fled in a hurry, all the doors left open. Except for one. Miles raised his fist signaling, hold tight on me. Cautiously he opened the door to find a child’s room. The furniture was small, made for a toddler but the few articles of clothing strewn about the room suggested a child in the age range of six to eight. Miles’ eyes zeroed in on a form, too big for its little bed, curled up in its sheets. “Prager,” he called, “kill that alarm would y’a.” Prager nodded, expertly having the wires of the screaming red light out and severed in seconds plunging them into blissful silence.

Who could leave a child behind like this, Miles thought as the form shifted. Big brown eyes peaked out at him, wide and curious, not an ounce of fear. Miles dropped down to the kids level, “hi there,” he said gently reaching out to pull the cover back.

“You're awake,” the child said in an awed hush.

That made Miles still, “you know me?”

The kid nodded under the covers, “they said you’d never wake up.”

“Who said that?”

“Jake, Norm, the McCoskers. Everyone. They said you were too bad to wake up. So if you're awake does that mean you're not bad anymore? Or was I bad enough to be put to sleep…”

A chill went up Miles' spine, “why would they put you to sleep? You're just a kid.”

“Because I’m bad. The McCosker’s tell me all the time. And Mrs.Sully says I’m a demon's son…

Miles sucked in a breath. Mrs.Sully. Jake’s little na’vi girlfriend, the one that made him turn traitor. He knew exactly who would draw her hatred enough to damn a son for their father’s sins. A dangerous hope flaired to life but he fought to push it down. It’s not him. They would have sent him back to Earth. “Can you sit up please so I can get a look at you,” he coaxed the boy.

He complied, wrapping the sheets around his shoulders. The boy reached out a little hand touching Miles face, “your real. You really woke up sempu.”

Miles hardly knew any na’vi but he knew that word for sure. He studied the boy in front of him knowing in his gut that he was his. He had his father’s brow and nose. His mother’s cheeks, her smile. Most importantly their son had the brown eyes of Miles’ lover, the woman he knew without a doubt was dead. She’d never leave her son behind like this. Wouldn’t let this little boy's long, dry, blond hair, start to mat in places. The kid's stomach rumbled. She wouldn’t let him go hungry. “Miles?”

He nodded, “yeah, but people only use that name when I’m bad. Most people call me Spider.”

Miles hid his scowl, masking it with a huff of a laugh, “why do they call you that?”

Spider perked up, giving him a sunny smile that melted his father’s heart, “because I like to climb!” Miles chuckled for real at his son’s clear enthusiasm. It’s just a nickname, he reasoned with himself. It would be easier than having two Miles’.

Spider’s smile slipped as his stomach growled again, making him wrap his arms around himself. Miles scowled. “Who’s closest to the kitchen,” he called.

“Me,” Mansk answered.

“Grab somethin’ for my boy to eat would y’a…”

“But…The McCosker’s will get mad at me. I’m in trouble for leaving and if I…”

“Who are the McCosker’s,” Miles asked with an undertone of malice. Who ever they were he already hated them.

Spider averted his gaze, mumbling, “they’re my foster parents…”

Miles lifted the boy’s little head looking him square in the eye, “well daddy’s back now. And I say you're gonna eat.” Mansk entered with a sandwich cut in half. “Come here.” Spider watched curiously as his father stood but clearly panicked when the man picked him up, sitting on the bed and settling Spider on his lap in one swift movement. Miles took note of his son’s clear distress. He was rigid in his arms, blank faced. The father bounced his son on his knee trying to calm him down. Mansk handed the sandwich to Miles who then offered a bite to Spider. Hesitantly he took it.

“Good boy,” Miles said gently, rubbing his son’s back. Whether it was the praise or the touch Spider slightly relaxed. “Is it good?” Spider gave a small happy nod. Miles smiled back. “Good. Now what do you say to uncle Mansk?”

Spider turned to the recom, “thank you.”

He sounded so sweet that the hardened soldiers in the room couldn’t help but melt. “You're welcome,” Mansk said.

“Spider,” Miles called, drawing his son’s attention, “how old are you now.”

“Seven,” he answered absentmindedly, enjoying his meal.

Seven. Making it roughly six years since the war. “A big boy,” Miles bounced his son again, eliciting a little giggle from the boy that made his father grin, his heart warming. “You know when you were little I was in charge around here. Do you know who’s in charge now?”

“Jake,” Spider said without a care. The rest of the room quietly took in this information. If that traitor was running things now then they’d have to play their cards right if they wanted to get out of this one alive.

“He’s quite the fighter. I know we couldn’t take him, or his army,” Miles said keeping his tone light hearted for his son’s sake. His team was smart enough to catch on to what he really meant. Spider nodded his agreement. “Say, why’d Jake keep us asleep?” Miles said while tucking his son’s hair behind his ear so he wouldn’t accidentally eat it as he devoured his food.

Spider shrugged, “I heard him say once that only a coward would kill a man in his sleep. That’s why I guess.”

Miles could respect that. If Jake was honorable enough to not strike when they were most vulnerable, Miles was willing to bet that Jake would at least put them through some sort of trial before executing them. And that would open up a whole world of possibilities. “That was mighty kind of him. I’d sure like to thank him for keeping us all alive and thrivin’.”

Spider’s eyes lit up, “you do?”

Miles nodded, “sure I do!” His team displayed a mix of emotions as his real intentions set it. They were surrendering.

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Jake led the recoms like dogs on a leash, their hands bound and bodies tied together in a line, avatars keeping them on track with loaded guns. “Quite the trek gettin’ to your little village,” Miles said.

Jake scowled, “don’t talk to me.”

“What’s the matter Jake? We can’t have a nice conversation together?” Jake pointedly ignored him. “You all really let my boy walk all the way to the village by himself?”

“He’s not your son,” Jake hissed.

“I beg to differ. You can’t call him a demon’s son then turn around and say he doesn’t belong to me.” Jake smoldered with rage but stayed quiet. “Unless you're saying that I am not in fact Miles Quaritch, in which case me and my team can’t be held accountable for the actions of our genetic predecessors…”

“Of course your Quaritch,” Jake snapped, “that body is nothing but a blank slate. It’d sleep forever without some kind of driver…”

“So that means I’m Miles Quaritch, father of Miles “Spider” Socorro….” Jake growled, walking faster, harshly tugging on his leads to make the recoms do the same. The recoms all snickered. “I should thank you though Jake for not slandering me in front of my son. He knows I’m “bad” but doesn’t seem to know how bad…”

“It wasn’t intentional. How the hell are you supposed to tell a kid his father is responsible for the deaths of hundreds.”

“Fair.” They quieted as they approached the village. The Omatikaya lined the walkway screaming and hissing as the recoms were led to the heart of the village. Their tsahik Mo’at waited there with her daughter at her side, Neytiri’s teeth bared and snarling. Miles inclined his head to her as the recoms were lined up, “Mrs. Sully.”

“Demon!” Neytiri lunged at him, knife in hand.

“Daughter,” her mother held up her hand, placating Neytiri. She backed down but still stood ready to strike. Mo’at fixed them with a hard stare that even Miles felt uneasy under. She walked around them picking at their ears and tails, analyzing them coldly. Once she was satisfied she stood before them, the entire village waiting with bated breath for her verdict. To the shock of all, the tsahik laughed. “Ah, the great mother knows what she’s doing. You demons who so brutally destroyed our home and slaughtered our people. With no respect for the great balance! Eywa has made you one of us so you could connect and feel the devastation you brought among the people!” The villagers all screamed their agreements. “I can think of no greater punishment than to make you learn our ways. Make you understand and feel what you have done until you are so remorseful that you weep at the foot of the Tree of Souls and beg the great mother for forgiveness!” The village roared.

Miles stood there in shock. He’d expected to have to plead his case. Argue that his team were clones of their predecessors. That they couldn’t be held accountable for what they’d done. “So…your not gonna execute us?”

Mo’at looked at him in confusion, not understanding his words. Jake said, “Na’vi don’t do executions. They banish their criminals to the ash lands. But I’d tried to convince Mo’at to make an exception for you.”

Miles grinned, “well it looks like you failed…” Mo’at raped him with her walking stick right between his eyes making Miles stumble back.

“Do not think you are getting off easy! If you want to live then you will learn our ways. If you refuse I have no issue banishing you from this land. Then your fate will truly lie with Eywa.”

“Yes ma’am.” Miles bowed his head to her, the other recoms following suit.

“You will come back here tomorrow and every day after until your insanity is cured,” they nodded their agreement, “good. Now away with you!” The clan jeered and hissed as Jake led them back towards Hell’s Gate.

When they were well away from the village Miles spoke, “well, now that that’s settled, let’s talk about my boy…”

Jake scowled, “no..”

“I want back custody…”

“Absolutely not!”

“Tell me Jake, what happened last night?” Jake paused. Knowing exactly where this was going he stayed silent. “I know Hells Gate better than anyone. If anything goes haywire the systems automatically reroute power to keep the control room and the cafeteria powered and oxygenated. That’s what happened last night and those damn McCoskers left Spider behind to die! How long do you think it would’ve taken for the living quarters to run out of oxygen….”

Jake sighed, “Where having a meeting with the McCoskers when we get back…”

“And I want to be there..”

“No.”

“He’s my son! They sure as hell don’t want him! Do you want him Jake?” He shifted uncomfortably, choosing not to answer. “How about you? Do you want my kid,” Miles asked Norm. Norm also stayed quiet. “Is there a single person on that base that could give my son a lovin’ home…”

“We’re going to work something out…”

“Yeah you're gonna give me my kid.” Jake clenched his jaw, choosing to ignore Miles for the rest of the walk.

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“We don’t want him anymore,” Nash said, “he’s too wild. We’re having our own baby soon…and now that his father’s back…”

“Quaritch can’t have Spider,” Jake said.

“Why not? We’re not executing him, we’re not really imprisoning him and he wants the kid. I say let him have his little bastard…”

“Don’t call him that!” Jake yelled, fighting to maintain some level of calm.

Norm gave his friend a sympathetic smile, “we can’t let Spider stay with Nash and Mary anymore. Not after last night…” Nash didn’t even seem guilty over leaving a child to die, “….and remember the last time we had to find a placement for Spider…” Jake most certainly did. No one had been willing to take the boy. They’d had to twist Nash’s arm just to accept Spider in the first place, which was now blowing up in their faces in spectacular fashion.

“I don’t want Quaritch to win here…”

“It’s not about that Jake. It’s what’s best for Spider..”

“How could that monster be what’s best for him!”

“It’s better than nothing!” Jake scoffed, “We’ll watch Quaritch like a hawk. If anything happens to Spider we’ll take him away in a second…”

“Oh come on now,” the man in question finally said, “i’m a lot of things but do you really think I’d hurt my own child!”

“We wouldn’t be having this conversation otherwise,” Jake snapped.

“You put Spider in the custody of two people who left him to die! Who let him starve! What else have they been doing right under your nose?” Jake had the decency to look guilty.

Nash waved him off, “let him have his kid Jake. It’ll be enough punishment for him.” Jake had to stop Quaritch from lunging across the table to throttle Nash, the recom turning purple from how incensed he was.

“Fine!” Jack shouted if only to stop Quaritch from committing murder, “you can take custody of Spider! But if you hurt him I swear…”

“Pff..” Quaritch shook him off, “please. I couldn’t do any worse than you.”

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The recoms were locked into the avatar quarters for the night. Not that they minded. It finally gave them a chance to speak openly after their first chaotic day in their new bodies. “So we’re really just gonna go along with all this boss,” Prager asked.

Miles nodded, “the R.D.A is gone. For now at least. We hang tight, learn the savages way, worm our way into the rebels' operations. We’ll be sitting real pretty when the company makes their comeback.” Everyone grinned, a few cheering for their new found mission. Miles couldn’t help but smile back, “alright now get some shut eye. We got a long day tomorrow.” The others nodded agreements before settling into bed. Miles did the same. He smiled to himself thinking about tomorrow. First they’d have their silly ass lessons in the village. But then they’d start renovations on Miles' apartment from back in the day, getting it all ready for Spider to move in. A home for me and my son. He couldn’t wait.

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Hope you liked it! I do know how I'm ending this fic already but if you have any ideas for bonding/learning moments that you'd like to see I'll be happy to write them.💞

#miles spider socorro #spider socorro #miles quaritch #colonel miles quaritch #my fanfic

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funficwriter · 5 days

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A Wolf and a Snake (Wriothesley x Reader)

Chapter 5: The Tides Are Changing

A/N: Enjoy!

Taglist: @yue-caelum, @reyy-chanx, @mis-disaster, @ladyarchiviste, @keigo-hawks-takami-simp

Warnings: Fighting lol, physical violence, pain, almost-heart failure (?), violent thoughts, yandere shit, yapping, vaginal fingering, a liiil bit of edging

"You've got to be careful.".

Even when scolding you, Agatha always laced her voice with sweetness. You could count the number of times she was genuinely mad at you on one hand. If she was this evening, you couldn't blame her given the circumstances.

"About?".

She sighed.

"You know damn well about what, Y/N. I'm fully on your side, and I think Lord Wriothesley will be great to you. But I worry... It's normal that you are happy beyond reason with him. I fear that you lose yourself in your happiness and forget that you're not supposed to be there, at that time, with him of all people.".

Deep down, you knew she was right. The circumstance that she worried about was your approaching wedding day, which catalyzed more and more restrictions for you. Your parents let you leave the house less and were more strict regarding your behavior, way of expression, speech... Everything.

With that, sneaking out to see Wriothesley was becoming a more challenging endeavor. Once a matter of meeting at night and being back before dawn, you now had to coordinate by the hours, pray to Focalors that no secret last-minute changes required your presence, be careful of the place and who was around (Fontainians, particularly of the higher classes, were Teyvat-renown gossipers), not laughing too loudly, and on top of it all, staying vigilant, which you were becoming notoriously bad at.

You were once a little paranoid, as you should have always been. Now, both you and Wriothesley forgot your meetings' lack of approval and the danger that may ensue. More than once, you risked being late in returning home; Had Agatha not sent a hurried message reminding you that more than one servant asked about you, you would have certainly been late enough for your Father to look for you.

Though the air of your conversation was tense, you knew you had to thank her for saving your skin.

"Y/N...".

She stopped herself from speaking once she said your name. She wouldn't have called out to you if not to say something. Something was troubling her.

"Yes? What is it, Agatha?".

After an awkward minute, she looked up to you. Her eye to yours, and her brow furrowed in disapproval. The same look your mother gave you when you played the piano badly.

"Y/N, I've always cherished you, but I have to say it: This is getting out of hand. Your adventures are becoming more ridiculous by the day. I had to pull out my rosaries to pray that you would come home before Master! I haven't done so in 20 years! I never had to keep this insane vigil over you when you started seeing Lord Wriothesley, because you knew. You always kept track of yourself, and I was fine with it. But developing eye bags? Losing track of time? Corrupting novice police forces? Making me shiver and cry for your safety?!".

All your life, Agatha took your side even if it meant putting her career as a governess at risk. There was no punishment she didn't try to protect you from, even though your parents worried that she would be lenient and ruin you. She even gave Wriothesley her approval, the only adult approval you cared about. Why was her tune changing like this?

"Agatha, I said I'm sorry and you accepted it! You know how horrible my life grows by the day, all for this blond swine I'm supposed to marry! I understand your concerns, but as of now, I haven't seen him in a month, and-".

"Y/N!!!".

She got up brusquely, an uncharacteristic gesture along with yelling your name. A pit of malaise started to grow in your stomach, and you were worried that it would spread to your esophagus and make you vomit. You didn't like where this was going.

"I would be patient if your little plan would yield its output sooner. But this is taking way too long! I've known girls who ran away with their lovers faster than you have! How much more is this going to take!? How many more near heart attacks will you give me?".

"Agatha, you told me to not jump to the drastic measure! We're still trying to do things the legitimate way-".

"Legitimate way? You're already spending your allowance the same way your Father did whenever he wanted something done faster than what the commoner got! Where's the legitimacy in that? Why do you still act for it?".

She went there. The pain was spreading to the pit of your belly, and its top.

"You want to talk about legitimate matters? How about that dumbass you call your half-brother who got kicked out of this manor like a dog? How about how he lost an entirely pleasurable and easy life because he doesn't know that an illegitimate sibling should STAY hidden?".

She gasped, burst into tears and you hugged her while apologizing for getting even lower, and you both cooled off... That's what would have happened in an ideal world where the both of you weren't so stressed. Only the first action took place.

She looked down at the floor, and for a fleeting moment, you wondered whether you had gone too far, digging into such sensitive history. But that ended when she looked up, even angrier and with teary eyes.

Agatha, the sweet-voiced. Agatha, the quiet and low of tone, a constant in your life. You did not think she could yell at you like this.

"My brother? MY BROTHER?!? You can drop the nice, exceptional noble act now! You screw commoners over with rules and break them with no regard for how the rest of us will be affected! At least my brother is still a man of integrity, and he'd sooner shoot himself than take your stupid bribes! Integrity! Can your money buy you that? Can your man-dog fling buy you that, or is he too busy with shiny bracelets and fake promises?!?".

"I never tried to bribe him, Agatha! I'm courteous enough to stay away from him! What do you mean, commoners getting fucked by rules?! Don't you think that I'm getting screwed out of a life I want? And that's why I need to do this behind everyone's backs?! And unlike him, Wriothesley does not make fake promises!".

She got up and close to your face, her tears even more visible. You never feared an adult's wrathful gaze upon you as much as hers'.

"You don't get it, do you, Y/N?".

"What?".

She stopped moving, and perhaps even breathing. Then she giggled and laughed raucously as if she were an evil witch from your childhood books. Or that one tutor who laughed at you when you gave a wrong answer.

She turned to the opposite side, before turning her face so you could see it sideways. She never gave this shit-eating grin.

"At least my brother is happily bound in holy matrimony. If Wriothesley was that intent on marrying you, he would have snatched you between his teeth by now. The length of this little plan makes it clear: He's just having a bit of fun with you.".

A bit of fun.

A day where he'll grow bored, ditch you to your grey life again, and forget about you. A day where he'll marry another woman. Not you.

In the red you saw, you slapped a vase to the ground, perhaps hallucinating Agatha's face.

"AGATHA!".

In hindsight, she was making sense. Wriothesley talked day and night, paper and in person, about how much he wanted to marry you. It was clear that legitimate methods, such as lawfully convicting your fiancé, were failing. Or taking way too long. In your world, these two were one and the same. Your marriage date was not getting postponed, even if you scarred your face the day of.

Agatha was being cruel, but she wasn't wrong. He knew and kept operating like this. You wished Wriothesley was here so you could claw his eyes out. So you could grab your sword and impale the heart he swore was yours. So you could stitch his mouth closed and he'd never tell lies again. So you could embarrass him the same way she just did.

You lunged at her, but she moved out of the way. You landed on the floor, messing up your (favorite color) dress. You never thought your fate could grow crueler. Even the color to your gray was turning out to be a lie.

All you could turn to your back and sob your heart out. Maybe if you avoided Agatha's pitiful gaze... Maybe if Celestia saw your blotched face and heard your cries, she would regret what she wrote as your fate.

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You tried to distract yourself for the rest of the night. You occupied the piano only to play sad pieces and be praised for your "empathy with the composer". You snuck a piece of cake and took a bite before feeling sick again. You walked around the manor and only got a bunch of servants asking if you were alright, and your brother saying: "Don't worry. Whatever moroseness you feel will disappear when you walk down the aisle.". It took everything in you not to burst into tears on the spot.

You couldn't leave this prison you called a manor. The only place you didn't try was the low garden, even if it held the fateful moments of his appearance. Your chase. Your star-gazing. Your first kiss.

At least it wasn't enclosed in walls. It was worth a shot.

It was a night with few stars. You never liked those, because the night you met him was full of them. It was one of the loveliest sights you saw.

It seemed to you like starless nights were a time when most tragedies happened, like tonight and the night Agatha's half-brother- No, brother was exiled. Seriously, you had to correct that "half", even if it was technically true and it hurt her at the moment. You remembered when she started the story with: "My contract has an exclusive clause that I must not tell you this, so please, keep it between us.". And you did. You returned the favor and told her of damning actions that may as well be written in an exclusive clause citing harsh punishment, many of those actions being recent.

You wanted to cry again. Perhaps you still needed to calm down, you thought. Being here didn't help, so it was time to try something new. You left to the kitchen to make lavender and chamomile tea, a brew you often drank before exams or social events. You let the tea leaves steep for a little longer than you should have, hoping that the transitory act of making tea would take up a few more minutes of your miserable day. Once it was ready, you carried the mug to your room, steps as light as they have seen since you learned how to walk.

You set the mug on your desk before crashing down on your bed and taking a deep sigh. By the Archons, what a tiring mess your life was. You had a theory that every noble girl and woman could sleep for the rest of her life. It was tiring: From the acting to the constant monitoring of your actions, you felt like human beings weren't made for this. You were glad your bedroom was away and thus had less sound emerging from it. You were taught to never crash down on your bed as you did, but it was one of those little pleasures. Just like illegitimate snacks and staying up and baltering and twirling around for the pure enjoyment of seeing your skirt float up in circles ('Y/N! Be graceful, your legs are showing!!'), they were the only thing you could be grateful for now. Your governess just joined your family and society's side on how to live, and the man you loved was potentially toying with you all along.

You didn't know which mental picture bothered you more: Wriothesley laughing at your naivete, or Wriothesley courting another woman after he was done with you. It may be the second- no it was definitely the second. The first was horrible, but the second was a far bigger betrayal to you. Agatha would be right: His heart was never yours, his promises were always empty and you may have been blind at parties while he was ogling other women. If it would be because of their faces, should you slash them with a knife or curved dagger? If it were their bodies, should you cut off the parts he was ogling or the ones they liked the most about themselves? Which other women should you go after Wriothesley, if all of this is true? Did he actually prefer common women? Or perhaps... Older, more refined or mature women like your mother?

How could he possibly look at other women when he gave you your first bout of joy, the same way you expected him to give you your first orgasm? If he never wanted you, why would he start all of this?!

But was he looking at other women? During events, you could have sworn that that wasn't true. But what was true anymore? Why wasn't he telling you what was going on? What was going on, why were you the one left in the dark by both him and everyone else about your own future?

Your pained groan ended in its middle when you heard a bark. There was no dog in this room. You looked up to see Frosty on your desk. Unlike the usual, his tail wasn't wagging and he pined once you noticed him. A sad, pitiful pine that expressed you in your current entirety.

"What the- What are you here for? I didn't send Wriothesley anything, do you have something? Wait-".

The window was wide open. Frosty had something in his 'backpack' (did it have the same name for messenger dogs?), but the paper in question was much smaller than the usual letters he sent. The ink looked stronger, too. You opened it. The format of the contents was also starling:

'Y/N

PLEASE PLEASE PLEASE FOLLOW THE PUP. I CAN'T STAND THIS.

I LOVE YOU, SO PLEASE COMPLY,

WRIOTHESLEY'

"Where to, then?".

Frosty jumped out of the window onto the ledge. Did he want you to climb? Would this be worth it??

You crawled out of the window frame, thankful that your manor's roofs were easy to climb. Most of them had stairs, and there were odd bricks you could stand on for a bit. You hoped they wouldn't renovate it anytime soon.

Frosty led you up to the highest roof, also a good spot for stargazing. You had to give it to him, being so familiar with the house. You sat down but did not wait for longer than a minute. A black gloved hand grasped the ledge, and up came Wriothesley, panting and sweating as if he had a nightmare. His expression only relaxed when it landed on you.

"My Y/N...".

You stood up and waited for him to be next to you, so he wouldn't fall off. Before he could hug you, your hand finally gathered enough force to do what you thought of for hours.

SLAP!

He fell on the bricks, holding his cheek. He looked up to you in the same pitiful, sad way Frosty looked at you. The pup pined at the sight, akin to a child seeing its parents fight.

"Y/N, please...".

You wanted to scream at him. Ask for the bitch's name, whether he liked her tits or face more, what did she have that you didn't, and how dare he prove your family's stance correct. You wanted to ask him whether he even wanted to marry you. If he didn't want to anymore, to just back off and let you go on your rampage and soil your dress with blood. Take his vision and freeze him with his own powers. Whether he saw you as a young, naive maiden and whether that made you a more fun conquest.

Instead, you turned your back to him. You sobbed as quietly as you could. And that was more scalding to Wriothesley than any of the aforementioned violent actions.

"Y/N, I need...".

He stopped and let out a guttural cry you'd only hear in emergency wards. He was hunched over again. You looked back. Was he acting, just like Archandelle?

"I need you to talk to me, my love..."

"Why are you acting as if you were in pain? I'm the one who's being fucked over.".

"Y/N, what's happening? Who hurt... hurt you? Who d-do you need me to kill?".

He had this pained look all along your interaction. He couldn't have known that you were angry at him; You didn't write to him about it, nor have you seen each other.

"What do you mean?".

"Someone hurt you. Badly. Tell me who it is. Talk to me. Give me a name to end.".

You crouched down and noticed that he was clutching the right side of his chest. His fingers were red and something was lodged in the glove. You snatched his hand to take it out. It was a pill you knew too well. You had more than a few acquaintances - all older men - who took it as the last pillar to stay alive.

Heart medicine.

"Did you get addicted to medicine while I wasn't looking?! Why are your fingers red? WHY AREN'T YOU TELLING ME ANYTHING?!? What's happening to you??".

"You... still don't know? About the bracelet?".

You looked at the wolf crest bracelet he gave you. His marking, right in front of your parents. You reached the point where you always wore it on your person, even if not on your wrist.

"What about that?".

"Flip the wolf over...".

You flipped the emblem to find the upside-down wolf, its eye glaring carmine red. Wriothesley turned the emblem on his heart, the usual blue glow replaced by that same hue.

"What the- What is that?"

"Did you forget? Maybe that's why you're in this state. Among...".

He stopped to take deep breaths as if trying to alleviate his pain. His hair was dishevelled and he was soaked in sweat. His eyes were quivered down on his matted head Even his clothes looked rumpled, and his tie done in haste. Wriothesley was always the one who sent other people to the state he was currently in. Now, something was horribly wrong.

Despite your wishes, your own heart hurt looking at him. As he breathed, you wiped the sweat off his forehead. He stopped you at the third swipe, taking your hand and kissing it.

"Among my first vows to you, I said that your pain would be mine, and my heart was yours.".

Among your false and true memories, the ones he mentioned sprung out. Your emblems' glow reduced by a little, although this sickly shade of red was on his face, both within his flesh and the glow.

"I don't understand, Wriothesley.".

"The bracelet. It transmits your pain to my heart. Sometimes I feel it a bit, but I assume that it's because of... Of your current life. And I say: 'It's okay. I'll bust her out of there soon.'. But tonight... It's like you exploded. Something way more horrible than usual has happened. Someone, maybe. I want you to talk to me. I told you before, as husband and wife, we need to communicate habitually.".

"Wriothesley, why your heart? What if you got a heart attack? What if you died? What about me and you?!".

You couldn't help the fresh wave of tears. Gosh, you hated how sentimental you were. You wanted to hate him, but how could you when he bowed to you, his own heart failing because of your state and still making it a priority to hold and kiss your hand? He linked his heart to you, for Focalors' sake! By official guidelines, this is harmful magic, 'not to be used under any circumstance' for a good reason.

"I told you, my heart is yours. Ever since my eyes landed on you, it always has been, just as your pain is mine. And if someday, you're so upset to the point where I risk death, then I would have deserved it for being a bad spouse.".

You threw your arms around him, your eyes hurting from how much you've cried. He did not hesitate in holding you back. If you concentrated, you could feel his heartbeat, regularizing but still way too fast. You didn't want to imagine what a mess it was before he came here.

"Y/N, do you want to regulate my heartbeat? That is your choice.".

"You fucking idiot! Of c-course I do!".

"Talk to me.".

You let go of him, trying to settle down so you could talk. His ears perked up the slightest bit to listen to you, the first time in this interaction. This was good.

"...D-do you love me? Enough to want to marry me?".

Up to the sky the same ears shot, along with his eyebrows.

"What? I do, more than anything I've ever desired! Did someone make you doubt that? Who is it?".

"Wrio... Why is this taking so long? I'm getting married soon. This will be much harder once that happens. I don't want it to happen. Oh, Wriothesley, today sucked, I even got in a fight with Agatha...".

Once you mentioned her name, a barrage of your last month and beyond started. You didn't stop after recounting the fight; There were the times your parents scolded you for having a curl out of place when Archandelle was coming over. Your brother trying to console you with your 'marriage'. Staying at home for days at a time. Memorizing every nook and cranny of the manor. Having to live like a thief, from hiding your love to your late-night tea. How you feared returning to the same state you were in, years right until you met him.

One good thing happened with this. The more you talked, the dimmer the red glow became.

"... Wriothesley, I feel like any woman with some noble connection is cursed. My mother married a man she didn't love. Agatha's husband abused her and she had to pay a lot to get divorced. My grandmother even loathed her husband, but everyone married her off because he'd 'discipline' her. And I have to follow this tradition of unhappy women, but I don't want to. It feels like I have no one to talk to. I feel alone. I hate it...".

You stopped and took a breath, wondering where all this revelation was coming from. You never opened up to Agatha with this much detail and intensity. This must have been waiting for years to get out. Why did your mind pick him, of all people? Was it because you just so happened to be messy at that moment?

Wriothesley held your hand again. His eyes did not fully dry from a few tears that threatened to come out at some point in your talk.

"Wrio, are you okay? Do you want a cup of tea? Did I talk too much? I'm sorry...".

"No, don't apologize Y/N. For once, my heart feels better because you let it out. Archons, I'm so proud of you for talking...".

"No one else would have been.".

"Well, everyone else is a cruel idiot. Everyone else told you to bottle it up, but you still went against them and told me everything.".

"If I am honest with you, can you be honest with me about a few things?".

For the first time in what felt like forever, he smiled. A small, sincere smile that took even more weight off of you. To you, there was nothing more beautiful, because nothing invoked as many happy memories as that curl of the lips. It was like that darned chocolate cupcake that you both reached your coming-of-age social. Part of you teasingly reminded you of your favorite new pastry, which hasn't changed since your first meeting.

"Without a doubt.".

"Is there another woman you love?".

The smile broke and he looked offended.

"So long as a woman is not named 'Y/N Balthazar', and becomes 'Y/N, Duchess of Meropide', then I couldn't care less about her.".

You tried to repress the blush; It was still too early for this.

"Is there nothing in me that you don't like? Anything that would repel you away from me?".

"In the Fontainian foster system, your father, Archandelle, Teyvat and the world, yes. Lots. In you, no.".

Your legs felt sore, so you lied down. He followed suit, by your side.

"Speaking of Archandelle, is anything happening to him or am I doomed?".

"You will not be doomed under my watch. I'm going to answer this question but first...".

He got up, steadier on his legs than he was. He cocked his head to the side, ushering you to follow him. Once you guys reached the topmost ledge of the roof (your favorite, because it loomed over the City), he handed you an item so familiar and loved, yet unseen for a long time: A wind glider.

"I was thinking of something fun to do, and your manor has some great altitude...".

"I haven't used one in ages! I forgot!".

He chuckled: "You've used it before, that's enough to know. Just trust the skies, my dear.".

He grabbed his own and jumped off, but did not fall. The wings deployed immediately, and his limbs relaxed once they spread out. His first landing spot was easy to reach. It was a lower part of your roof.

"Here! This should be a good start. Now jump!".

Sounding more panicked than you liked to admit (and risking your time), you yelled: "You didn't explain anything!! How did you get the wings? How do you- Why are you laughing at me?!".

He didn't want to make you feel insecure, but he couldn't help his laughter. You were like an adorable, helpless child, relying on him to give you the answers.

"You just have to jump, Y/N! Why would I try to get you to break an arm, huh? Just trust me on this!".

You worked hard to recount the few times you got to use a wind glider. What a horrible time becoming a pre-teen was; You were barred of so many wonderful activities, all for the sake of spending your next years securing a husband. What joy did that bring you? No, the real happiness was when you kicked your feet off the high point, spread your arms out, and floated. You were above the manor's walls, the parlor, the court's and Fontaine. It was like being a part of Teyvat itself. It was freeing.

After these long, monochrome years, your body flew again. Your heart with Wriothesley and your form into the sky, softly landing in front of him, on your feet. He smiled widely, his full and societally hated canines on show. Here was a man at least twice your size, smiling like a school boy before he knew of misery.

"You're great at this! Once we marry, you should consider competing in gliding. You'd definitely win a few medals!".

"Hey, you're the one who encouraged me. Let's pick a lower spot.".

And there was another, and another until you were far from your house's roof. It's okay, you were coming back anyway. You always came back, but he was your only betting chip for the opposite. You either had to put your hope on him, or have none at all.

During your last flight, you deactivated your wings and let yourself fall. You knew you could, you knew you wouldn't die. He caught you in his arms, carrying you by the waist.

"Hey... What was that for, my love?".

"I just wanted to skip to this part.".

Tired, you both lay down, with him encircling his arms around you. He put his head on top of your chest. His heartbeat grew slow and regular - He was safe. You were safe. While it was true that safety was but a wisp in your world, you had to cling to it while it lasted. It was the only way you'd pave a life where you could scratch his fluffy ears as slowly as you pleased, grateful to your younger self who took this risk and leave everything she knew behind.

"I didn't tell you about tomorrow yet.".

The wind gliding made you forget! You looked down at his icy eyes and heard him out.

"They're squeezing a confession out of him. I know, because I made sure 'his' cops wouldn't be at the investigation. From there on, it's free ground for him to go to prison.".

"He still has to be tried, though, no?".

"Yes, but it will only be a question of a lifetime sentence with fellow prisoners or in isolation. I feel like I don't have to ask if you're ready for the Pandora's box it will open...".

He tightened his hold. You knew what box he meant: Noble crime is pretty interconnected. It's common for nobles to see out their own class when committing something that a commoner could not get away with. Archandelle's trial and arrest would also mean that many others; lives would be ruined... Including your own father. It was amazing how they knew each other for such little time, and yet they already had several illegal connections.

"You're right. You don't have to ask. I'm looking forward to that trial.".

"So am I, Y/N. I'll be sure to kiss you in front of them after they're convicted. Maybe slobber up and show them too.".

"Eeeeewwww!".

The idea of a (publicly) slobbering Wriothesley was so uncharacteristic, but so funny.

"It's so I can spit on them! Do you think I should add more tongue for the extra scandal?".

"Honestly, just holding hands would be enough for that!".

"But I'm going all the way!".

"You're such a-!!".

What he was, you couldn't think of. Even your laughter quieted at the sight right under your chin: A fondly smiling Wriothesley, with growingly beet-red cheeks and twitching ears. You often theorized that despite him physically being a grown man with an impressive size, there was a boy who just sought out his own happiness, including that with the ones he loves. Just like you.

He leaned his head to give your jaw a long kiss, before whispering in your ear: "You are worth losing everything I've ever desired.".

"Eh?".

"Though I've remained faithful to my goal, I feel like I haven't been taking the right approach.".

He cozied up against your chest again.

"What do you mean, Wrio?".

"Well... When I first declared that I wanted you, I tried asking your father. Do you remember that?".

"How could I forget?".

"And while it's true that I was digging up dirt on Archandelle, I still tried to go the tried-and-true way. Discover some horrible crime, snitch to the Court, sue and let them punish him...".

"Yes?".

You weren't sure where he was going. You looked down to see him gazing at the moon.

"Maybe I shouldn't have. Maybe I should have just showed up to this door and gutted his fetid body. Maybe I should have killed him during the parties.".

Deep down, you knew you wouldn't have an issue with that. In fact, you might even cheer. Why didn't he do it from the start, then? You felt like you had the partial answer in your hand, scratching it just the way he enjoyed.

He chuckled: "You really like my ears, huh?".

"Speaking of which... Is that partly why you didn't start with the violent approach? Because people are already shitty enough to lycanthropes?".

"Smart. I still remember my shock when you told me you liked lycanthrope authors. It was the first time anyone considered my kin to be something good. But there's another reason. A bigger one.".

You couldn't help but jolt up. Bigger than life-ailing discrimination? As a hybrid and noble man, Wriothesley was already a one-in-a-million case, so it would make sense that he'd want to avoid keeping stereotypes.

He broke his gaze from the moon into yours. Maybe that was part of the reason why he loved you so obsessively: Because there was no getting used to your beauty, your voice, your mannerisms, your smarts and your tenderness towards him. He never liked surprises; Routine was a good way to regulate himself and stay on the down low. Surprise was never a pleasant thing for him from his foster parents to the Beret society. But you? You always caught him off guard in some way, possibly without meaning it. You held gleeful surprise and pleasure and the joys he was constantly told about in the orphanage, but never found until he found you.

The shining look of your (eye color) orbs made him take the vow: He was never going to be passive when it came to you again.

"When I first met you, I had no way of knowing whether you would be okay with that drastic measure. Whether... You were just like me. Whether you, too, spent your life seeking out empty promises. Had you been like most people, jumping to violence would be a sure-fire way for you to hate me. Oh, how could I live being hated by you, Y/N? After everything I've been through, it would definitely break me.".

"Wriothesley...".

"The night we met, I played it passively in hopes of not scaring you away, and keeping my own status. Yes, I still get judged, but it's nowhere near as bad as what I've had before. I thought I would be better off not risking what I gained, and acting normal to you. But when I got to know you more, and when I'm risking losing you... I realized what a mistake that was. I don't like what Agatha did tonight, but she was right on one account. I should have snatched you to myself from our first roof exchange.".

He breathed, as if he's been itching to say this all along. When you first laid down, your head was above his. Now he loomed over you again, as well as his body, in a position that you could associate with a soft bed and your first night post-marriage.

Once he dipped down and kissed you, it was your turn to have an irregular heartbeat.

The world felt most beautiful when you two closed the distance between your bodies. They were like two pieces of a puzzle: Molded for each other. His hand slowly ran beyond your knee and on your thigh, the other behind your back. Your arms had to stretch to go around his wide shoulders, but it also made you feel safe; He would protect you from anything, including the imposed fate you feared.

That same hand grew higher, and higher, but stopped right before your inner thigh. He broke apart to ask: "May I? I'll stop whenever you want to.".

You raised your leg, as if trying to get him closer: "Yes...".

Was it just him, or was that more of a moan than a word? Could you even speak in this state? And why did you have to rile him up like this?

He kissed you again, his hand squeezing at the soft meat, then running over your hip. It's not that you were as sheltered as your parents would have liked, but this was your first time being touched like this. It was as if he was awakening nerves you didn't know existed. You didn't feel this sensitive when masturbating.

Getting tired of your thigh, he laced his fingers between your hip and your panties, before sliding them off. Even from there, he picked up on where most of the heat was coming from, and it wasn't your dress' fancy fabric.

He raised himself to lift your skirt up. There was your slit, coated in its own lubrication, and your legs shaking ever so slightly. He hadn't even started and you were already mewling and getting excited, your body already anticipating the orgasm. He couldn't help cooing.

"I can't wait until I make you cum."

You whined, tired of him making you wait, then wrapped an arm around him.

He ran his fingers up and down your vulva, coating them with your juices, before circling around your clit. The sensation made you squeal out. You heard it had thousands of nerves, but what was that?! It was not a cold night, but your entire body was shaking as if you were freezing.

"Ssshhh... We have to be discreet. Do you like this, sweetheart?".

"More... More, please!".

He was not expecting this vocality, but he wasn't complaining. He dipped down to leave little kisses on your collarbone and neck, while he played with your sensitive clitoris. He occasionally gave it a break, running his fingers in circles around your womanhood, flaring up whatever nerves he could find, before rubbing your nub again.

The lovely thing about neck kisses was that you could not avoid his husky-voiced whispers: "I bet he won't make you feel the way I do right now.".

His fingers slipped down to your hole, still circling around it before he would slip in.

"This lovely body and its tremors aren't his, are they?".

"N-no! I swear, they're not!".

He stopped touching you. Don't get him wrong, he loved you, but you were too cute writhing for him to not take advantage of it. He could not wait until he had you all to himself. He might even make you cry from all the pleasure he'd give you. Until then, he had to relish the limited moment he had.

"Sorry, my love, but you haven't convinced me.".

Once frigid and closed, your legs opened up even more: "Wriothesley, please!! You said it, he'll die before he even gets to see me naked, let alone touch me!".

"Oh? So you're trusting that I will take you?".

As he asked, he leaned in close, only a few inches away from kissing you. His hand was creeping back up where you wanted it.

"Yes... I'm yours, I've always been...".

His digits entered your hole. He didn't even have to look for the spot; a few rubs and you had to stop yourself from squealing. You could not stay quiet, not when you've never felt this, not when he was playing with every pleasurable nerve in your body. You were already clenching erratically around him. The more you did, the closer you were...

"Wait! Wait, I-!"

He kissed your neck again: "Let it out, baby.".

You couldn't help it. You screamed. At least you were far from your house, and it was a good type of scream. The type you felt he'd give you every night.

He helped you feel and ride out your entire orgasm, drawing out every bit of pleasure he could, while all you could do was moan out. Once you calmed down, he lowered his eyes to yours again.

"Are you alright?".

"That was amazing...".

"With the way you screamed, I sure hoped so.".

"Shut up.".

He laughed a bit, before kissing you again. This time, it was slower, softer. Tonight was eventful for both of you, after all. At some point, you two broke the kiss but remained in the same position. It was easy to hear his whisper when your foreheads were so close.

"If tomorrow doesn't work, I'll kill him before the ceremony.".

#a wolf and a snake #yandere wriothesley x reader #wriothesley x reader #yandere reader #genshin impact x reader #yandere genshin x reader #yandere fontaine x reader #genshin impact smut

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mikuni14 · 2 months

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Dead Friend Forever - Ep 10

The tenth episode of the technically BL series which I rate 10/10. What a time to be alive 💖

While watching this episode I was very angry at Phee for not shutting up and then at Jin when he was yelling and being rude to my sweet little creature Tan, but I decided not to judge them (and not to theorize about other stuff) because:

the behavior of all the characters in this episode was strange, off and very sus, so who knows what they are really doing and thinking

I'm drinking an alcoholic beverage as I write this, so I'm very chill 😄

Could Phee actually tell Jin the whole truth and Jin accept it and not make it a big deal? Yes. This is, in my opinion, believable behavior from both of them. Phee is not a cute lil freak like Tan, he doesn't have as much to lose as Tan, he has something to come back to, unlike Tan, he has a home, a parent. Tan has nothing. Jin could be just tired. Tired of what happened in the past, of his guilt, of being hunted now, of not getting enough sleep, of not eating or having a moment to rest and think, of being constantly on fear-inducing hallucinogenic drugs. Phee confessing the truth because he didn't sign up for murder and Jin forgiving him quite easily are both believable. But as with White, Tee, Fluke, there was something strange, something off, in their scenes. Like their facial expressions at certain moments. Weird words. As for Phee - an ax lying coveniently there? A bottle of poisoned water that only Jin drinks? (I can't believe Phee didn't feel like drinking either, they're sweaty, it's night, it's hot, they haven't had anything to drink for a long time) Then all the marks on the trees were different, so I don't know if it was supposed to be the same tree all along? Phee left the ax outside? And it's strange that Phee knew exactly what Tan had done without even seeing it, like removing those cameras' views, or pulling the wire - how did he know it was Tan? I don't know. It was all so strange 🤔 As if… several things were happening at once, several independent revenges? Multiple agendas? Unexpected alliances? Hm. Whatever! No thinking, only vibing 🥳

SORRY, WRONG PIC LOL kinda hot tho I MEAN THIS VIBING:

Por and Top were wounded in the same place 🙂

I don't know if it's a fuck up of the people responsible for the costumes, or it's someone else, but the masked killer attacking Tee and Tan had different clothes underneath than Top.

Of course, I can't help but write how much I love Tan, how much I can't get enough of him, how Mio plays him, shows his facial expression, I'm absolutely crazy about him. Look at him sitting on a throne of lies, manipulation and the corpses of his family's enemies. Look at my son and despair 😍! I thought Por's death wasn't in the plan, and it turns out I was wrong. And you know what, I'm cool with being wrong hehe. There are so few characters like this that I clung to him like a child to its mother's skirt. He reminds me of Charn from Laws of Attraction, Kang Yo Han from The Devil Judge, or MLs from Beyond Evil, I love all of them, so Tan also has my heart and devotion.

Watching DFF is an amazing experience. I'm just having total, pure fun, I feel giddy, the show keeps me on the edge of my seat and on my toes. Not a second is wasted, each character is used to its full potential (even Top lol). I was recently talking to a friend about TV series and he told me that lately, every series he watches, he watches and scrolls on his phone at the same time. Well, what can I say, rel. DFF is a series that has my 100% attention 😤

#dead friend forever #thai bl #bl drama

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lirotation · 7 months

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I Hail from Silverymoon: The Clash

Pov my little fanfiction: Astarion x Amaara (my wizard Tav). Angst I guess? This one is not a particular in-game scene, but the general feeling of Act II. The battles became hard, the atmosphere depressing, I was on edge the entire time while in the shadow cursed land. My Amaara was just a nudge away from flipping out. Also, while Dark Urge was like a person that the companions care about, Tav was more like a "Tool And Vessel". They'd dump their problems and requests on her without even asking, "Hey, how are you holding up?"

___________________________________

Amaara sat alone in her tent, absently cradling herself for comfort. She had skipped dinner, the day's events roiling in her mind. First Astarion had learned the sinister truth behind his scar, a revelation that shook them both. Then Arabella's parents were discovered murdered, despite Amaara's promises to save them. The girl's devastated screams and refusal of any consolation would haunt Amaara's dreams. She should have protected them. Should have been wiser, stronger, quicker. But she failed.

The impenetrable shadow curse loomed over the camp, an almost physical pressure exerted on Amaara. She can scarcely breathe. She sat, on the verge of tears, while everyone else tended to their own troubles. No one had even noticed her missing from the campfire tonight. Not that she blamed them; the quests pressed heavily on all. But a small voice inside still whimpered that she didn't matter.

With a shuddering sigh, Amaara pulled a blanket tight around herself. She wished it were Astarion's arms instead. This was one of those nights she would give anything just to lay her head on his shoulder and let him soothe her fears away.

But no, her thoughts drifted to him, remembering the first night they spent together. It was her very first time and he made it the single greatest experience in her life. She was completely lost in him and truly thought their souls bonded that night.

However, the second time was different. Her eagerness was clouded by doubts. She was also armed with new knowledge from Gale's books. She paid more attention to him that time, wishing to bring him pleasure, mend the bond they have. What she observed shattered all her hopes. His eyes were distant, withholding a hint of disgust and loathe. She didn't know what she did wrong, all she knew was the hurt in her heart and even more doubts in her mind. She didn't say or do anything though, still clung to him.

When they finally arrived at the shadow cursed land, there was no time to have a discussion because everything was thrown at her all at once. She could not seek comfort from him, for she didn't even know what his true intention was.

Suddenly Amaara heard soft footsteps outside her tent. Astarion popped his head in, giving his usual roguish smile. "Bad day?"

"The worst," she murmured. Carefully she allowed a tiny warmth kindled in her chest at the sight of him.

"I heard the girl yelling all the way across camp. This is what you get for helping every sob story that comes along."

Amaara sighed. "I had to try. I just wish I'd been quicker."

"Don't trouble yourself with every stranger's burden. You can't carry the world on your shoulders." Astarion's eyes glinted. "Although…we could have saved them if we had more power."

Amaara shook her head. "I did my best. Gave it my all."

"Did you?" Astarion pressed. "You refused to use the tadpole. But that was said and done. Now think - if I ascend in Cazador's place, we'll have might beyond imagining! You could help whoever you wished."

Amaara's eyes widened. Her heart turned to ice. He wasn't here to comfort her after all, "Don't." She snapped, then softened her tone, "please, not now, not today. We will discuss this some other time."

"Such innocence," he chuckled. "You know nothing of the choices survival forces upon us." His eyes flashed with cold ambition. "The power is there for the taking, if you'd help me grasp it. "

"There will always be a better way than violating our principles!" Amaara shot back, unshed tears shimmering in her eyes.

Astarion stepped closer, his voice dropping to a cruel whisper. "YOUR principles. They make you weak when ruthlessness is required. You couldn't even help a simple peasant girl."

His words had weaponized her own guilt and doubts, leaving her consumed by grief. "How can you even consider the profane ascension, when you know what it entails? You said you just wanted to be rid of your old master, you didn't even want to be a true Vampire. what changed?" Anger started to set in, for his lack of consideration of her emotions. Harsh words lashed out, firm and curt, " NO, I won't allow it. "

"YOU WON’T ALLOW IT?" He bit down on every word as if to chew them into pieces. Rage erupted inside him and his vision went red, "When I was being flayed, you danced carefree. When I was seducing victims to their death against my will, you shared kisses with your bard boy on the Moonbridge. While I endured unimaginable torments, you spent your youth immersed in books and childish romance. you are nothing but a little mageling with no experience of the evil in the world, and your naïvety will be our undoing." Astarion's words were soaked in venom, "Powers that could help us lie within easy grasp, yet you cling to frail morality, chaining me with it too. "

He imitated Amaara's voice in a mocking way, "Astarion, don't bite thinking creatures. Astarion, don't kill the monster hunter. Astarion, don't use the tadpole's power, Astarion, don't ascend and be truly free." He sneered.

"Does restricting me give you purpose? Do you seek to become my new master? After all I endured…you presume to command me?" He spat, "Too bad, you do not dictate my fate. when the time comes, it is not your decision to make."

Astarion's cruel condemnation cut to Amaara's core. As fury boiled up inside her, the last thread of restraint snapped. "How dare you!" she shrieked, voice shaking with rage. "You know nothing of my life, yet boldly presume to judge me!"

"I may be young, but I've seen darkness across Faerûn that you in your cage could scarcely dream of." Amaara blazed, fury and pain etched on her face.

"You think I don't comprehend evil? I fought in wars, trudged through the wreckage left by those drunk on power. Held the hands of the dying and broken. Heard the screams of children orphaned, peasants crushed beneath the heels of tyrants! The Drows sought power, and drove the War of Silver Marches. The Ogres sought power, and led the siege on Silverymoon. My home in rubbles, my parents slaughtered before my eyes!"

She trembled with rage and grief. "And now mind flayers spread madness, and I'm cursed with their filth in my head! Every time someone grasps for might, I lose something precious!"

Amaara's shoulders slumped in defeat. "So do not lecture me about power's lure or necessity. I crave power too. If I were stronger, perhaps I could have saved my parents, kept my friends safe. I toil endlessly to hone my skills, master new spells, learn new recipes, anything to gain control." She lifted her head, fresh tears spilling down her cheeks. "But never at the cost of my soul."

"I offer you only compassion, yet you twist it into chains! Am I your enemy just for wishing you to retain your humanity?" Amaara wrapped her arms around herself, believing this is the source of their problem and the origin of his contempt. To her dismay, this is something unresolvable.

She felt utterly broken inside. "So choose your path, take your power, rule over ashes and bones. Lose yourself fully. It matters not, for I will have lost all I hold dear anyway. It would just be one more beloved thing sacrificed at ambition's altar. no big deal. I'm used to that by now."

Astarion stood there, his own anger overshadowed by the torrent of emotions that Amaara's words had stirred within him. Her confession had caught him off guard, and for a brief, bewildering moment, he felt a pulse of something he hadn't expected. But his well-practiced instincts to deflect kicked in, and he quickly composed himself.

"I do apologize, darling," he said, his voice carrying an unusual softness. "I didn't know. I suppose we're all products of our past, and you've certainly had your share of trials."

Astarion took a step closer, let out a small laugh "It was a bad choice of timing, I admit. In my eagerness after learning about the ritual, I got way ahead of myself. We don't even know if it can be done or not. We're practically bickering over theoretical situations. Silly of me, really."

His voice softened further, a familiar seductive tone seeping out. "Now, my little pet, would you like me to stay? I'll make it up to you, promise."

Amaara blinked, a mixture of anger and bewilderment stopping all her tears. The absurdity of his offer slammed into her, leaving her momentarily speechless.

"Get out," she finally said, her voice carrying the weight of her exasperation and disbelief.

"Sweet dreams." And with that, he turned and slipped away.

"It's over," she whispered, the bitter truth settling in. Perhaps there had never been anything real between them at all.

The weight of it all pressed down relentlessly until she buried her face in the bedroll, sobs wracking her body. Oblivion seemed the only appeal now, far removed from this anguish. I should have perished alongside my parents, she bitterly thought, sparing myself this grim future.

The group's fate beckoned in the darkest corners of her mind. What purpose did she have to go on? To keep fighting? When all the efforts were in vain and all that awaited was more pain at the hands of those she foolishly dared to trust.

That night, sleep evaded Amaara for hours. When it finally came, it brought troubling dreams. She found herself surrounded by a swarm of mind flayers, their tentacles grasping, a loud murmur of "Join us" seemed to come from all around her, then the ground collapsed under her feet.

Amaara fell screaming into darkness. She landed with a painful thud next to young Arabella. Tears streamed down her face. "You promised to save them! You promised!" she wailed, before blinking away. In her place, Halsin appeared out of thin air, who glared accusingly. "The curse remains. Are you even trying to aid me?"

Before she could respond, Halsin vanished. Wyll appeared next, panic in his eyes. "You must hurry! My father's life depends on it!" He too disappeared in a wisp.

After Wyll vanished, Amaara wandered alone through the shifting dark landscape, disoriented and afraid. Suddenly she spotted Karlach's broad form standing nearby, back turned.

Hope bloomed in Amaara's chest. "Karlach!" she called out, hurrying toward her friend, desperate for an anchor amidst the nightmare.

Slowly, Karlach turned to face her. But as she did, flames erupted across her body, consuming her. Amaara cried out in horror as Karlach melted away right before her eyes.

Reeling, Amaara staggered back, only to hear Gale's voice behind her, "goodbye, my friend." She whipped around.

Gale clutched his chest in agony. "This is my fate." He gave her a pained smile, with that Gale exploded in front of her with a force that sent her falling once more.

As Amaara plunged into darkness, she saw Shadowheart drifting alongside her, floating limply.

"Shadowheart!" Amaara cried out, grabbing for the cleric's hand.

But Shadowheart only gazed back blankly, no recognition in her eyes. Sinister shadowy hands materialized, seizing the helpless cleric and dragging her down into the abyss.

Amaara screamed and tried to hold on, but Shadowheart slipped away into the shadows' embrace. Amaara could only watch helplessly as her companion vanished, the void widening between them.

At last Amaara managed to land. As she struggled to get on her feet, a hand shoved her back to the ground. She tried to rise but froze at the sight of Astarion looming over her. He wore a sinister smile, "on your knees, darling," He commanded, fangs bared and eyes full of malevolent hunger. He descended upon her exposed neck as she screamed…

Amaara awoke, her throat raw from screaming Astarion's name, and her body drenched in a cold sweat. The remnants of her nightmare still held her in a tight grip, refusing to let go. As her ragged breaths echoed in the darkness, she felt Astarion rushing towards her, and she recoiled instinctively.

The companions had been roused by her cries, and they gathered around her tent, concern etched across their faces. Some of them reached out to offer comfort, but she flinched away from their touch, her eyes wild and desperate as they scanned the faces before her.

Amidst the chaos, Astarion's concerned voice cut through. "Amaara, what's wrong?" He moved toward her, only to be met with a forceful shove and a bolt of magic missile straight to the gut.

Staggering back, Astarion looked at her with bewilderment and alarm. He had never seen sweet, patient Amaara lash out so violently, especially toward him. Her usually calm demeanor was now overtaken by distress he didn't understand.

Before anyone could make sense of the situation, Amaara stumbled out of the tent, right into Lae'zel, clutching at the gith's tunic as if it were her lifeline. Lae'zel's eyes widened in surprise, yet she reacted with an unexpected gesture.

Slowly, deliberately, Lae'zel put one arm around the distressed wizard, while her other arm extended in a protective barrier, blocking Astarion's attempt to approach. Though her posture remained rigid and defensive, her singular embrace became a shield for Amaara.

Halsin's voice carried a sage wisdom as he addressed the group. "She had a nightmare, let's give her the space to collect herself."

Lae'zel met Astarion's incredulous stare with an unyielding glare. She then turned, guided the broken down wizard to her own tent, away from everyone else.

As the rest of the party scattered, Astarion stayed, completely dumbfounded. His determination to follow Amaara was halted by a firm grip on his elbow. His body tensed as he instinctively pulled away, his voice laced with an edge of desperation, "DON'T. TOUCH. ME." It was Gale who had caught him, trying to prevent his impulsive actions. Astarion struggled against Gale's grip, his frustration and anger evident in his eyes.

In the midst of their struggle, Gale cast a "Hold Person" spell on Astarion.

"Let go of me!" Astarion's voice seethed with impotent fury. Gale positioned himself in front of Astarion, blocking his line of sight to Amaara. "You need to collect yourself first," Gale stated firmly. "And I need to have a word with you."

Astarion's glare intensified, his lips curling in a snarl.

"Look at you - a feral animal. You'll only frighten Amaara more in this state," Gale admonished with a weary sigh.

Astarion glared venomously but slowly relaxed his aggressive posture under Gale's stern gaze.

"Congratulations, Astarion. You've accomplished the feat of enraging our gentle Amaara," Gale remarked, tone laced with sarcasm. "Keep it up, and one of us may gladly take your place."

Astarion let out a bitter laugh. "I'm sure you're all just waiting for that opportunity."

Gale's expression turned solemn. "I don't know what twisted game you're playing. But understand this - Amaara has options, far better ones than a deceitful leech like you."

Astarion's retorted defensively, "Hahaha, yes, a ticking time bomb, a murderous gith, and a druid who's more bear than man? Don't make me laugh. Amaara is mine."

Gale's gaze held steady, his words piercing through Astarion's façade, "Go on, Astarion. What is she to you?"

Caught off guard, Astarion faltered. "She's my…" He was at a loss for words, struggling to define the complex emotions that swirled within him.

"I thought so," Gale's voice softened. "For her sake, I hope you can find the answer to that question before it's too late." With a wave of hand, Gale lifted the spell before he turned and walked away.

Astarion stood there, his thoughts a tangled mess. Amaara's reaction had struck him to his core. She had never recoiled from his touch like that before, never met him with physical aggression. He replayed the events of the evening in his mind, trying to piece together where things had gone wrong. What had his intention been when he sought her out earlier? He recalled that it had been a pretty good day for him - finally learning about the truth behind his scars and the battles had not taken too great a toll on him. He had been in a good mood since Amaara promised to help him against Cazador. He was hoping to have a deeper discussion about the new information with her, and maybe offer some comfort for the disheartened little heroine.

And then it all unraveled. But how? What had he said when his temper had gotten the best of him? He struggled to remember the exact words that had led to their heated argument. But that hardly matters now, right?

The notion of losing Amaara utterly terrified Astarion. He had believed her to be hopelessly enthralled - whatever he did or said to her would have no consequences, she would always come back to him like a kicked puppy. But now doubt plagued him. Was she truly so spellbound? Or had he pushed her too far this time?

In desperation he scrambled for ways to regain control, to mend the cracks in her devotion. But even that impulse gave him pause.

Because the more he pondered, the clearer a startling truth became - it was not merely her compliance and thrall he feared losing, but her. For so long he had seen her as merely someone to manipulate and seduce. Yet now, the threat of her absence stirred a different emotion entirely. Not just wounded pride at losing a plaything, but the ache of something far more profound slipping away.

The gentle soul had offered him everything - compassion, patience, love freely given. At first she was just an amusement to him, a powerful wizard reduced to a toy. But she had tried in her own way to connect to him as a person.

He remembered the sweet taste of her blood, a gift freely given, and accepted without judgment.

He remembered the way she had looked at him when she had shared the beauty of her own world with him - her room she had conjured, the view of the Moonbridge. He now realized it was a gesture meant to forge a connection, her way of opening up and letting him in.

He remembered her using a figment illusion to show him his reflection when he had been wallowing in self-pity; He thought back on her shy smile, the kiss she planted so delicately on his conjured image. He now realized it was her creative way to show affection because she had noticed his adversary to touch.

He remembered when she carefully traced his scars, Remembered her relentless determination as she had spent the entire night trying to piece together the infernal letters. The disappointment that had clouded her expression when her efforts had yielded no results.

He remembered her words, "Of course I am with you," when she aided him against the Orthon - she had given, and asked nothing in return.

He remembered her bright-eyed smile and adoring gaze. A gaze unlike those he encountered before. It had held no lust, no violation. It was filled with simple admiration and joy.

He felt seen, wanted… even loved.

Never in life or unlife had he been shown such empathy and care without ulterior motives. Never in life or unlife had he asked for help and met with help, asked for compassion and met with compassion, asked for indulgence and met with indulgence.

He didn't care

No.

He thought he didn't care.

NO.

He didn't know he cared.

He felt like an idiot now. How stupid had he been? He had messed it all up. He had pushed her away, misread her intentions, and allowed his insecurities to tarnish the connection she tried so hard to build.

Now, the very idea of her slipping away made his blood turn into ice. What they had shared had been real, and he finally realized how much light she had brought into his bleak existence. Light he would give anything to get back, if only he knew how.

#young people fall in love with the wrong people sometimes #Problem between good Tav and Astarion was more than his manipulation #dating someone with different value is very hard #While Amaara is hurt Astarion is equally frustrated #bg3 fanart #astarion #astarion fanart #baldur's gate 3 #baldurs gate 3 fanart #bg3 fanfiction #bg3 #baldurs gate 3 #astarion fanfic #astarion x mc #I Hail from Silverymoon #my oc stuff #Amaara Ashvale #procreate

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fanficshiddles · 7 months

Text

The Call Of Fate, Chapter 21

‘I do…

NOT take you as my husband. And I never will!’ Jade yelled at Arthur.

It was then like slow motion as Arthur’s face turned red in anger, she swore she could almost see steam coming out of his ears. He raised his hand up, and was about to strike her, on front of everyone. Not that anyone would really care if he did strike her or not.

All of a sudden a dagger came flying from down the aisle, right into Arthur’s palm, causing him to cry out in agony as he pulled his hand down and clutched it while blood poured down to the ground.

‘Do NOT touch her!’ A voice bellowed from the far end.

‘Loki!’ Jade gasped, so much relief flooded through her.

Loki came into view and stormed down the aisle towards her. He was in his full ceremonial Asgardian armour, his cape flying out behind him dramatically as he covered the distance with very few steps with his large stride.

Jade went to run to him, but two guards grabbed her and stopped her. Loki glared at them, but he remained calm. He looked at Jade’s biological father and stepped up to him.

‘I am Loki Odinson. Prince of Asgard. And I have an offer, from Odin himself, King of Asgard.’ Loki snarled at him. ‘You forget this nonsense of a wedding, allow her to marry me, and Asgard will guarantee you protection, power and riches beyond your wildest dreams.’

‘And how am I supposed to take your word for it?’ He barked at Loki.

‘You can take mine!’ Another bellowing voice came from the other end of the hall.

Odin.

He began walking up the aisle towards them, with guards following behind him.

‘Give my son the girl, they will wed and we will have an alliance.’

Jade’s eyes went wide as she watched everything going on, she couldn’t believe it. Was this actually happening?

Her father looked between Odin and Loki, then over at prince Arthur who was still crying in agony and shouting at his father to stop this. But no one dared to move, in fear of the Aesir that were armed with spears and shields. They knew better than to try and attack the Gods.

‘Let her go.’ Odin demanded at the two guards holding Jade.

‘You can’t let this happen! She is to marry ME!’ Arthur yelled as he clambered back up to his feet and went to grab her. But Loki sent an energy blast at him, knocking him flying backwards onto his ass again.

The guards let go of Jade and she ran to Loki straight away, he wrapped his arm around her, holding her tight. And he was not going to let her go.

‘This is most ridiculous. She is to marry my son. We have an agreement!’ Arthur’s father yelled.

Jade hid in closer to Loki and his hold on her tightened even more.

‘Quiet! I will decide who my daughter is to marry.’ Jade’s father barked at them. He then went silent as he looked back at Odin, then at his guards. ‘Can you offer more than what he can?’

‘I think you know well that we can. More than any other mortal Kingdom can.’ Odin grumbled at him.

There was silence throughout, though Jade could’ve sworn that everyone could hear her heartbeat thumping against her chest just as loud as she could hear it.

‘Very well. Jasmine will marry your son.’

‘NO! WE HAD A DEAL!’ Arthur screamed, but he was too scared to go any closer to them.

‘A deal no longer, it seems.’ Odin smirked at him, then looked at Loki and nodded. ‘See you back home. Where arrangements are already being made. The wedding will happen shortly.’

Loki nodded once at Odin, trying to remain calm. But he wanted nothing more than to cheer and jump for joy. And so did Jade.

Jade felt utter relief flood through her as Odin and his guards left. All the guests began to leave as Arthur’s parents began to usher everyone out. But Arthur was still furious, screaming at his father to listen to him.

‘We are not going to fight with the Gods, son.’ His father snapped at him.

‘Wise man.’ Loki growled.

‘Jade… Are you ok?’ Loki turned his attention to her and cupped her face.

‘I am now.’ She sobbed happily as Loki wiped her tears off her cheeks with his thumbs.

Loki pressed his forehead against hers and he had his spell over her drop, so her tattoos and hair was back to as it was, as she was.

‘We need to marry, but that doesn't mean anything if you don’t want it to. I will not force you to be with me if you don’t want to, or to love me if you don’t. But you will have your freedom, to go where you want to, and to be who you are. Without constraint.’ Loki said softly.

‘I love you, Loki. To be free would mean nothing without you.’ Jade said as she reached up and cupped his face too.

Loki knew deep down that she loved him, but he had been a little worried at the same time. Though he would never deny her her freedom if she wished to go off back to her old life and forget all about him and the avengers.

Loki had a tear roll down his cheek too, in relief and happiness.

‘I love you, Jade. So much.’ He dipped his head down and pressed his lips against hers.

They both sighed softly as they pulled back a little. Loki took her hands within his and smiled.

‘How did you get this to happen?’ Jade asked.

‘Thor and I have been badgering Odin from the start about getting this to happen. He continued to refuse, not wanting a mortal to marry into the family. I’d given up hope, but it turns out my brother is not as much of an imbecile as he seems… That’s why he was missing earlier, he was pleading with father one more time. Though it turns out he has been taking sneaky videos and pictures of us to show Odin how much you mean to me. I could kill him for that… Alas, it seems it finally worked. He managed to appeal to Odin’s softer side.’

Jade shook her head and laughed. ‘I can’t believe it. But what about the higher ups with SHIELD? Won't everyone be in trouble?'

'Don't fret about that, cupcake. We will deal with it when it happens. All you need to worry about now, is that you're free.'

More tears of happiness and relief rolled down Jade's cheeks.

‘Well… we have a wedding to get to… are you ready to go to Asgard?’

Jade’s eyes widened and she nodded eagerly.

Loki looked upwards and called out to Heimdall. The colourful bridge opened up over them and sucked them up to Asgard, leaving Arthur screaming up at the sky.

#tom hiddleston #loki #loki x ofc #fluffy loki #loki fic #the call of fate

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karmic-vibes · 2 years

Text

If I Can Dream

8 - Oh Why Can’t My Dream Come True

art credit: @lazylittledragon on tumblr and lazyjunebug on twitter

cw: gender dysphoria, misuse of pronouns, use of deadname

Year: 1988

“They’re gonna freak out,” Eddie panicked.

“No they won’t,” Steve assured.

“They’re gonna call me a girl,” he hissed.

“And I’ll yell at them, then we’ll leave. You’re my boyfriend and soon-to-be husband, alright? I’m not gonna let them walk all over you.”

“If you say so.”

“Oh, hello boys. What brings you here?” he asked.

“Off to a good start,” Steve whispered. “Hi, dad. We, uh… we actually had some news we wanted to share with you guys.”

“Alright, what is it?”

“For starters, we’re getting married.”

“Oh, congratulations!” Pattie cheered, forcing the two of them into a hug.

“How, uh… how exactly does that work?” John asked.

“Well…” Steve looked to Eddie, seeking his approval before continuing. He gave him a nod and a reassuring rub on the back. “Since Eddie is still legally considered a female, we’re able to get married. When we go to change his last name, he’ll finally be changing his first one too.”

“About time,” John said.

“You’re telling me,” Eddie dryly chuckled.

“So what else?” Pattie asked.

“Hmm?” Steve hummed.

“You said ‘for starters’—what else is there?”

“Well…” They looked the each other, fear filling their eyes. “We’re, um… uh…”

“For Christ’s sake, we’re having a baby,” Eddie rushed out.

Pattie and John stood there catching flies. Their eyes bulged out of their head, not quite sure how to take the news.

“Okay, not everyone speak all at once, god,” Steve said.

“I… are you sure?” Pattie asked.

“Yeah, we’re sure.”

“Okay, but how sure?”

“I took an at home test and just got my blood work done. So… pretty sure…”

“Wow… John?”

His father didn’t answer. Instead, he pushed past the boys and made his way to the study. Pattie rolled her eyes and chased after her husband.

“Told you so,” Eddie said.

“Not the time, Munson. Mom, dad?” Steve called.

“What?” Pattie sighed.

“We just… we thought you guys would be happy. You know… grandkids, yay…”

“Steven, we put up with this whole charade you made us put on for your girlfriend–“

“Whoa–“

“I am not done speaking, Steven. You make us relearn a name, address her by some ridiculous new pronouns. We can accept the two of you getting married, since legally we can’t stop you. But having a child? No, absolutely not. You two as parents? Please. It’s an unfit household.”

“How, dad? Hmm? How are we unfit to be parents?”

“A child needs a mom and a dad. Not a dad and a fucking tranny.”

“Yeah, because a mom and a dad did me so fucking well. We’re done here. Let’s go.”

Steve grabbed onto Eddie’s wrist and practically dragged him out of the house. He opened Eddie’s door for him and shut it once he was fully in the car. Even when he was heated beyond belief, he always took the time to treat Eddie the way he deserved. Especially now that they had a child on the way, he always found a reason to calm himself down.

Without realizing, Steve was driving with his mind on autopilot. Despite not being scheduled to work that day, he found himself pulling into the Family Video lot. When it clicked, he blinked aimlessly a few times and profusely apologized to Eddie.

“No, no, it’s okay, honey. Let’s get a movie or something while we’re here and say hi to Robin.”

“Yeah, okay…”

“We don’t have to tell her yet if you don’t want.”

“No, no I do. Sorry, my parents put me in a bad mood.”

“I know, it’s okay.”

Steve got out, rushing over to get Eddie’s door for him. He helped him out and the two stood outside the door, trying to silently reassure each other before heading inside. As Eddie reached for the door, Steve grabbed his waist and pulled him in for a sweet kiss.

The two caught Robin’s eye as she was processing some returns. She raised a brow and leaned over the counter, waiting for the two to walk in. They mumbled something incoherent to each other before Steve opened the door for Eddie.

“Long time, no see, boys. How’re we doing today?”

“Good,” Eddie smiled. “How’re you, Rob?”

“I’m good,” she said, glancing over at Steve. “Are you hiding something from me, Harrington? You’re usually talking my ear off.”

“Can we talk in the back, Rob?”

“Sure… everything okay?”

“Yeah, just come on.”

The friends dipped into the cramped back room as Eddie wandered around looking for a movie for the night. Robin leaned against the door as Steve hopped onto the desk with a huff.

“What’s really going on?”

“What do you mean?”

“Something’s up. What’s going on?”

“Sorry, we just got back from my parents’ house.”

“Ah. Any reason you were there?”

“Do I need a reason to visit my parents?” Robin raised a brow and crossed her arms. “Yeah, okay, you got me there.” Steve buried his face in his hands. “Eddie’s pregnant…”

“Holy shit, what? How?”

“We weren’t careful and uh… yeah. He’s pregnant. Just about two months, now.”

“Wow… so, you’re gonna be a dad?”

“I know…”

“What the hell‽”

“I know!”

“Jesus… how does Eddie feel about the whole thing?”

“He’s nervous, understandably. I’m more nervous for his mental state, y’know?”

“Why?”

“Rob, he’s worked so hard getting where he is. He’s come out to me, to everyone we know, dealt with the backlash, went through the agony of top surgery, and now… after all that… he’s pregnant… it’s like two steps forward and three steps back. I feel terrible.”

“Steve, he loves you and I’m sure he’s happy to do this for you. If he weren’t, I’m sure he’d bring up the idea of getting rid of it. I think he’ll be okay.”

“I just worry.”

“And you have every right to worry! It just means you’re a good boyfriend.”

“Fiancé,” he corrected.

“Jesus, Harrington, I don’t see you for a week and you come in here saying you’re gonna be a dad and a husband!”

“I know, crazy, huh?”

“Where does all the time go, Christ…”

“What do you mean?” Steve chuckled.

“Steve, three years ago, when we met at Scoops, you and Ed had only been dating for like six or seven months. Both unsure what you’d be doing with each of your futures. Now here you are, nearly college graduates, engaged, and future dads. It’s insane!”

“Yeah, I guess it is…”

“I’m happy for you.”

“Thanks, Rob. That means a lot.”

“Of course, dingus. I’ll always be happy for you.”

“Thanks,” Steve chortled. “I should go check on the husband. Lord knows what he’s getting into.”

“Probably ruining all my hard work from this morning,” Robin teased.

“I wouldn’t put it past him.”

As if I’m cue, as the friends emerged from the back room, Eddie had tripped over one of the displays Robin had spent all morning setting up. She pinched the bridge of her nose, motioning for Steve to collect his man.

“Sorry,” Eddie started. “Pregnancy brain is already getting to me.”

“I figured. Congrats, by the way.”

“Thanks, Robin…” Eddie blushed as Steve helped him up. “Uh, Stevie, how do you feel about a horror movie?”

“Depends which one.”

“Nightmare on Elm?”

“Ed, we’ve watched that a million times.”

“Yeah, your point?”

“God, I hate you. Fine, we’ll rent it again, but I’m getting something too.”

“Fine by me. I’ll be right back,” he said, setting the tape down on the counter.

“Where’re you running off to?” Steve asked.

“If you must know, Steven, I feel like I’m about to puke my guts out. Happy?”

“Dear lord. Call me if you need anything.” Eddie gave him a thumbs up as he headed to the Staff Only bathroom.

“So, what’re you gonna make him sit through?” Robin asked.

“A birthing video. He wants horror, I’ll give him horror.”

“You sure that’s a good idea?”

“Why not? We both need to be prepared.”

“If you say so.”

Later that night, after the boys had dinner and finished watching Nightmare on Elm Street, Steve surprised Eddie with the birthing video. At first, Eddie was reluctant to watch it, especially so soon, but he eventually caved and let Steve pop the tape in.

The tape started out as rather informational, going through the different stages of labor and what to expect in each. What neither of them were anticipating, was it cutting to a woman actually pushing a child out of her.

“Can result in a severe hemorrhage, which could lead to death in minutes,” the narrator droned.

Eddie and Steve sat back on the couch, clutching their thighs to their chests, mouths hanging open with eyes popped out of the skulls.

“Steven, why did you make me watch that‽”

“I don’t know!”

“Was that meant to be comforting‽”

“I don’t know!”

“Oh my god, a human is going to be coming out of me!” Eddie panicked. “This is all your fault, Harrington!”

“What is‽”

“First knocking me up, then showing me that video!”

“I’m sorry!”

“Ugh!” Eddie fell back on the couch, dragging a blanket with him. He cocooned himself in the couch’s throw, only allowing his eyes to pop out. “This kid better be worth it.”

“She will be.”

“I hate you, Harrington.”

“I know you do, Munson…” Steve sighed as he rubbed his fiancé’s back. “I know you do…”

#eddie munson #eddie st4 #eddie stranger things #gay #st4 #steddie #steve harrington #steve x eddie #stranger things #lgbtq #pride #lgbt pride #trans eddie munson #transgender #parent steddie #joseph quinn #joe kerry #robin buckley #maya hawke

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urstruly-ghst · 1 year

Text

pre-nrc deuce + goody-two-shoes! reader

note : i needed more deuce spade delinquent au. if u have some thoughts to share abt this au, ask em away!

cw : gn! reader (though might be femme on some ends), established relationship, fighting, delinquent deuce behavior such as : threats (not to u) and violence ++ controlling parents (mostly mom)

deuce spade

Your relationship with him was beyond fulfilling if one were to ask you about it, the way you found comfort in uncertainties with Deuce’s guiding hand– and also leaving a small boring routine of just sleeping, eating, and studying. You adored how he tried to bring you to life and give you something worth the experience.

That’s not to say that everything in your relationship with him was happy and smooth sailing. Sometimes, if not most, your lives constantly clash the wrong way. For instance, Deuce’s life of adrenaline before the prelims for the vast colleges that offered different students contrasts with your virtuous studying and worrying. You vaguely remember the angry words you slipped in as Deuce shouted, clearly angered and hurt.

Another bump was your parents. You’re the goody-two-shoes, the lovely sweet child they raised with high hopes you won’t meddle with your town’s messy parts. Admittedly, they all just wanted the best for their bright child, but it was clear that their fear and detestation extended to Deuce’s reputation. After all, why would they want their most shining star snuffed out by the bad boy who threatened people with his uniquely strong magic and fists?

It does get better, though. Deuce made sure of it. For you and him.

…

“What is with you bothering my child during this crucial exam, Spade?!” Your mother yelled at Deuce for the nth time; he got caught sneaking over the picket fences your family built on an exam night. While you would usually defend Deuce, you frowned and crossed your arms as you saw Deuce peek over.

“No offense, ma’am. But you say that to every exam yer baby takes, can’t I just steal ‘em and… get to spend time with them? It’s been over a week and–” Deuce started, voice clearly hoarse from running and probably yelling when he got caught.

“No, lad. Listen here. My baby is not like you. They’re doing all they can to get into that college, and I’ll be damned if you’re here leeching off them!” That shocked you, broke your heart when you saw Deuce falter, and you immediately huffed and told your mother off– this was far too much even for you. You adored your mother; you held her in high regard with how she withstood the shady town with a stern attitude. You remembered how she played her cool when a robber dug a knife into her old jeans, trying to scare the wits off her– she laughed and gave a penny. She was that strong.

But today, you saw her as a controlling woman. Not that you never saw her gorgeous veneer now, but her attitude with Deuce– the one you spent nearly two years together– made you realize her demeanor was both an asset and a burden.

“Don’t meddle with them, sweetheart. Your mother was more than right. This exam is worth more than that delinquent who beats boys up and gets into some naive girl’s pants.” You froze at his statement, hurt washed over your heart, and you prayed that Deuce didn’t hear that– his already shattered heart would crumble. Deuce was aware of your parent’s distaste for him; he fought tooth and nail to even sit at the dinner table with you.

“He isn’t like that, father! I am aware that all this boiled down to this exam, but you’ve known I studied well enough for the past week! And for the record, Deuce proved himself time and time again that he would never be disloyal or violent to me!”

“Oh, so violence is alright with you? You permit him to beat up some poor lad because, what, he failed to notice his glare?!”

“Don’t put words in my mouth! You know that wasn’t what I–”

Deuce suddenly stepped in, and his bleached locks immediately took over your vision. As hurtful as those words were, Deuce knew that your parent’s anger was justified and had a grain of truth to it. It stung for your lover’s inspiration won’t bother to acknowledge your step toward improvement, but he knew giving up meant giving up those two years with you– and Deuce would instead be buried alive than give you up. He’s yours, and you’re his.

“I know what the rumors said. I know myself better than you. I know me dating (Y/N) is not what you want. My reputation weighs heavy over theirs. But this thing– our thing– is a delicate balance that I so badly want to be stable. Watch me; I’ll change. I swear on my mother’s heart.”

---

bonus ! deuce spade nrc era!

Deuce did change. After that night, tears fell, and comforting words were exchanged– a fire lit inside both of you. You remembered the tight hug you gave Deuce when you opted to stay out of the house to ride with Deuce into your secret place. A beautiful large oak tree covered with couples' initials, but yours and Deuce’s were the only thing that mattered.

“Hi, babe.” Deuce awkwardly greeted you. A thing you noticed with him was how reduced to being shyer now in contrast with his confident and laidback demeanor a year ago. You giggled; you wondered where that spunk went. Deuce stared at you lovingly. He was so glad the holidays brought you back to him.

While it was difficult, being in different colleges and vastly different lives, you remained in touch and obviously still in love. The way he kissed you was still the same, and the way he stared at you was the same, but the way he smiled was different. He now smiled with the confidence that he could keep you.

Meeting in the middle, you both intertwined like puzzle pieces. You often wondered how it felt so right to be in the supposed tough-as-rocks Deuce, but maybe because it was the fact that he is Deuce Spade. A soft man turned tough by the pushes of the world around him, a fractured life of kitchen table bills and a competition to be the best in something never made things easier.

Good thing he can now patch up. With or without you, but he preferred it to be with you.

“Hello to you too, Mr. Juice.”

“That Ace!”

You shut his grumbling; a kiss was enough to shut him up. Or two. Maybe three–

#twisted wonderland #twisted wonderland x reader #twst x reader #twst deuce spade #deuce spade x reader #deuce spade

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teyamsatan · 10 months

Note

mim sneak peak soon ? 👀

hi bb, your ask singlehandedly made me start writing this chapter hahahaha, so here is everything i wrote for the last chapter of mim, and i hope you enjoy xx

“Are you sure, ma ‘ite? You know we wouldn’t force you into anything, but… please think it through. Eywa’s vision was clear, and it showed you two together. Eywa is never wrong, you know this.”

You thought about it, barely able to look into Mo’at's beautiful, sagacious eyes that always felt like they could see through you, through deception and conceit, and get to the soul of problem, the inner core of your amalgamation of conflicting, earth-shattering emotions, covered by a crust of barely-there composure, ready to erupt with any slight friction of the tectonic plates of your heart. You thought about last night, about his words, that still rang in your ears in a muffled cacophony of sounds you were trying your hardest to drown out, that you were scared would end up drowning you, instead.

“I loved you, Vi.I fucking loved you. You were everything to me. And you broke me.”

“Even the smallest similarity killed me, reminded me how much I hate you, how much I want to, how much I don't. I've wanted to hate you so much, I tried so hard, but you were in every dream, in every fantasy, you haunted me my whole life."

You thought about his actions, about what drove them, about how, at the end of the day, they were the same driving forces that you acted on. Hurt. Betrayal. Jealousy. Fear. You thought about your actions. How poison crept beneath your skin and pooled in your heart and pumped it through your whole bloodstream, until it was all there was, until it blinded you, and how he started this, but you continued it.

How his fault was indifference, and yours was madness that only he had the power to coax out of you. You thought about his parents, and how his dad was now your dad, and how hard you fought for hearing the magic words: “we couldn’t have done it without you, kid”. Those words, and the “you’re welcome” that followed, became as necessary to you as the air you breathe. It may have started, this need to gain Jake’s approval, as a way to get a rise out of Neteyam, your best attempt at getting him to lash out at you, scream and yell, anything but the horrible silence he ordained you with, but in time, it had less to do with the boy and more to do with you, with how his dad reminded you of your own, how the words of praise and admiration made the ones you were used to, that you’d never hear again echo through the your tent and through the forest, hidden in between the whistles and sonorous trills of birds, but never forgotten, not to you.

You thought about his specious assumptions, and your words, and how, despite what you spat at him last night, they weren’t the whole truth. You did tell Jake that you didn’t want to mate with him, but not out of a lack of love or desire. No, the thought of one day being one with the boy who shone light through the broken cracks of your soul every day after your parents died, the boy who himself shone brighter than any star or sun or galaxy out there in the vast unknown, the boy who challenged you, and annoyed you, and loved you, and got you… it made you happy. It made butterflies flutter in your stomach and tingle, it made a fuzzy feeling gather in your brain and haze your mind until it was full of nothing but misty reveries, of a life beyond your wildest dreams and fantasies, of night flights and battles won together, of family found and family kept.

You told Jake what you did because your dreams couldn’t happen while you were pushed to the side and made to undertake the duties of a Tsakarem, they couldn’t happen if you had to forsake your talents and an integral part of yourself. You thought that, by saying no, you could make your dad proud, you could make Jake proud… make him proud. You thought that by becoming the warrior you knew you could one day be, you could help him… take away some of the burden that you knew he was shouldering all by himself, that of the eldest son, the responsible child, the prodigy of the clan. More than anything, you wanted to be worthy of him and of his love. That’s why you said no.

But now, it was all wrong. Your love, your hate, your history and your future, everything you’ve done, everything you should have done. It was all wrong. O’i’en was right, you realised. You held onto this broken relationship, this hopeless promise of a mateship, not because you wanted revenge, but because you wanted him… in any way you could get him. Your undefeated stubbornness, and the war that left too many collateral victims for you to ever be able to sleep at night again, led to scars in your soul no one could ever fix, that you’d have to mend yourself in time, that you never could while in an arrangement you should have declined to begin with. It was finally time…

“I’m sure, ma Tsa’hik.”

…time to say goodbye to the child you knew - the one you were, the one he was, and the love that took too much of both of you, the one that turned to ashes in your mouth.

coming soon x

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socdarlings · 1 year

Text

contact names for the gang + socs

quotes are my perspective on the person and why i chose that name

ponyboy: ballad of a thin man - bob dylan, 1965. “song revolves around the mishaps of a boy, who keeps blundering into strange situations, and the more questions he asks, the less the world makes sense to him.”

johnny: johnny b. goode - chuck berry, 1958. “the song is about a semi-literate "country boy" from the New Orleans area, who plays a guitar ‘just like ringing a bell’, and who might one day have his ‘name in lights’.”

dallas: insight - joy division, 1980. “this song is almost as depressing as the eternal. giving up on life and hope and looking back at the past and wishing you’ve done something different. describes dallas before his life ends.”

twobit: cupid - sam cooke, 1961. “keith just reminds me of a doughboy and a loverboy, always picking up soc girls and dumping ‘em later.”

darry: the eternal - joy division, 1980. “This song just digs down into the deepest, most dank and dark recesses of tortured, unyielding depression. darry curtis is never going to ever leave tulsa and will die in tulsa. It’s just in the cards for him. This song also goes for dally.”

sodapop: little red corvette - prince, 1983. “This song is about casual dating and the fear of being replaced. It’s a sad but realistic song about the dangers of getting too attached to someone who isn’t ready for a commitment.”

steve: isolation - joy division, 1980. “A fear that never goes away. You wake up with it, you get into bed with it. You're afraid of things that are weeks in the future and of things that are tomorrow almost equally. You feel inferior to everyone, but you don't look up to them either because you just aren't like them. Steve has a hard time understanding people emotionally, and that isolates him from everyone.”

tim: cold, cold heart - hank williams, 1951. "Why can't I free your doubtful mind and melt your cold, cold heart?"

curly: behind blue eyes - the who, 1971. “‘Behind Blue Eyes’ is written from the perspective of a man who is hated and shunned. He's asking for empathy, but is clearly unhinged and seems to have anger issues.”

angela: wildflower - skylark, 1972. “She's faced the hardest times you could imagine. And many times her eyes fought back the tears. And when her youthful world was about to fall in, each time her slender shoulders bore the weight of all her fears.”

cherry: cheri, cheri lady - modern talking, 1985 “tbh I misheard this song and thought it said ‘cherry, cherry lady’. regardless the song’s about a girl who’s lost in the world, both emotionally and spiritually.”

marcia: sunday girl - blondie, 1978. “I think a happy go lucky song describes marcia best. doesn’t really show her other side with people, except cherry.”

evie: cherry bomb - the runaways, 1976. “a tough grease girl who’s just trying to survive day to day life in tulsa. does not have a good relationship with her parents. lets her soft side show around steve.”

buck: alone and forsaken - hank williams, 1952. “I just figure buck is just that kinda guy who’s always gonna be alone and can’t connect to people.”

sylvia: jolene, dolly parton, 1973. “Your beauty is beyond compare, with flaming locks of auburn hair, with ivory skin and eyes of emerald green.”

bob: the figurehead - the cure, 1982. “a depressing song about keeping up appearances and acting tough despite suffering on the inside. the man in the song is on the verge of suicide and yells out his frustrations, but nobody helps him.”

randy: heroin - the velvet underground, 1967. “this song basically describes randy turning to drugs in ‘that was then, this is now’ after everyone around him either leaves him or dies. it reinforces his idea that the warring sides of both greasers and socs will only leave more people dead and there’s no point in fighting.”

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colettevbellerose07 · 11 months

Text

Neville Longbottom x Hufflepuff! Lestrange! Reader

A/n: y/n has mommy issues we love a good relatable. y/n 😅

Prompts: “I can have literally any boy in this school, what’s stopping me from dating every single one of them.” “Y/n youre not being a very good person.” “Well would you be if you were this beautiful?”

Summary: Y/n finds a glamour potion, no one at school liked her and often feared her because she is Bellatrix’s daughter. Y/n uses the glamour potion to get people specifically boys, to like her. However only one boy was not under her spell, Neville. He decides to confront her.

Being the most beautiful girl in Hogwarts overnight has its perks. Boys flocked to me like I was Anna Nicole, but at times it got to be too much. They bought me jewelry, new clothes, and candy.

“Y/n explain, now.” Neville demanded, the hallway was surprisingly empty. “I don't owe anything, Mr, Longbottom.” I kept formalities out of respect and a weird form of rebellion against what the awful slytherin boys would call Neville. “If you owe me anything Lestrange, you owe an answer to this.” Neville looked at me with anger.

“I'm not telling you anything!” I yelled. “Lestrange!” Neville yelled pushing me to the wall. “You listen to me and you listen good, you are going to tell me what you have done. That way I can fix it.” I squirmed under him, his face was so close to mine. “No! You can’t!” I said with tears in my eyes. “Please don't take this from me, Neville!” I begged. “Why?” He questioned, confused.

“I need the attention and love I get from them, I need it!” I sobbed hysterically. “Why? you get enough of it from all the Slytherin boys?” Neville scrunched his nose. “I want more! Of course, the Slytherins will love me! Without the potion I made they would be the only ones that like me.” Neville stepped back in disgust.

“and besides I can have literally any boy in this school, what’s stopping me from dating every single one of them.” I said hysterical. “Y/n you’re not being a very good person.” Neville looked beyond confused. “Well, would you be if you were this beautiful?” Y/n said with smartass undertones. “God you are just like her in every way.” Neville shook his head.

“Don't you dare! Don’t you dare compare me to that monster, I hate you! I hate you, Neville!” I sobbed as I tried to run away. If there was one thing she would admit to sharing with her mother is her fast change in emotions. “No, get back here!” Neville yelled while running after me. He caught up to me and yanked me by the hips, hitting my ass on the hard floor.

“You don’t ever compare to that horrible excuse of a mother!” Screams at him getting up slowly. “I would have never thought you hate her so much?” Neville said almost like hating parents was a foreign thing to him, but it was in for y/n. She use to love her mom but over time she saw Bellatrix for the monster she was and not the mother she wanted so badly.

“How could I not hate her? After everything she's done to you, to me...” Y/n says on her feet, looking like she had memories of her mother she had yet to tell anyone. “You have good people on your side, Neville, remember that.” y/n walked away holding herself as she did.

*Over time the boys stopped talking to her and went back to fearing her. It was something she was used to she couldn't walk anywhere without being looked *as* her mother. Y/n was reading a muggle book on crystals when Neville sat down next to her.*

“Good afternoon,” “Okay what do you want?” “I just want to talk to you,” Neville explained he looked like he was running away from something. Y/n noticed a pair of taunting boys. Y/n looked at Neville making sure the boys could see her. “Good afternoon,” she said seeing out of the corner of her eye the boys walking away. “They are gone now.” “Oh, sweet Merlin.” Neville whisper-yelled in relief. But Neville hadn't up and left yet.

“So I noticed you stopped-” Neville tried to say awkwardly, “Yeah courtesy to you my friend. Now you can tell all your loser friends that you hang out with in the room of requirements, how you stopped, the evil Y/n Lestrange.” she rolled her eyes. “I wouldn’t do that!” Neville cut in. “Oh yeah, that sounds so unlike something the innocent Neville would never do!” y/n said mocking him.

“Why do you hate me so much Y/n?!” Neville yelled back confused, “Because you were the only one who didn't fall!” Neville stopped, “What? Fall meaning?” “I wanted you to love me, but I got everyone else *but* you!” Y/n sounded genuinely disappointed. “So you used the Glamour potion to… get me to like you?” Neville looked at her trying to find her logic.

“I now noticed how bad that sounds…” y/n looked down at the ground, “y/n I think I know of a reason it did work.” Neville stated, “Really?” Y/n quickly looked up at Neville her eyes meeting his, “Because I already liked you. Well like you.” Neville blushed.

“What? But I’m-“ Y/n said confused, “I know and that conflicted me for a long time, but now I realize that you aren’t like *her*.” Neville looked at her with a strange love that she wasn’t used to, “So what do we do now? We both know we like each other.” She asked, “I don’t know I’ve never really had a girl like me back before?” Y/n gently held Neville’s warm, soft, delicate hands, “I think we can start with that.”

#neville x y/n #neville longbotton x reader #harry potter #Neville longbottom x Lestrange reader

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https-siren · 5 days

Text

-.Cornflowers and Kismet.-

Cw: Angst, Character "death," female reader hinted but can also be seen as GN, the reader has a plant quirk, overall just fluff, some mental health issues mentioned (not very prominent) minor to severe angst. Friends to lovers (?) some abuse mentioned (parental, both mental and semi-physical) (Messed up the timeline so Touya goes missing much later than the actual Canonic manga/storyline) Brief mentions of Enji Todoroki. Todoroki Family Abuse lore semi relavent.

NOT PROOFREAD

shoutout to my friend for helping me choose the flowers in this fic!

A little bit "rushed" idk tho ;-;

You and Touya have been friends since you were around 6-7 years old, When you found him throwing rocks at your window, leading your hand outside, you knew your life would change from then on.

Fate or Kismet, is the strangest thing. How can you just find somebody and want to stay with them forever?

The fateful night when Touya came to your doorstep was when you were only 13 years old. Hearing a small tap that came from your window made you anxious, as you feared a possible break in.

Peering out the window you noticed the familiar figure of Touya, his white locks and his blue eyes always identified him. You creaked open the window and shouted, "Meet me at the front door Touya!" You then creaked open the front door, and there he stood, with an eager smile, tinting his eyes with childlike urgency.

"Hey, walk with me for a little?" He asked smile on his face.

"At this hour?" You questioned with a small yawn.

"Just trust me! I promise nothing will happen! Plus if you come with me I can show you the surprise I have planned!" He said hand extended for you to grab, if and only if you took his questionable offer into mind.

Intrigued you gladly placed your hand in his. Wondering what this surprise could be.

He led you through the woods that coated your backyard. He led you to an opening, one that seemed to be created by him and his flames.

He let go of your hand and grabbed something perched up on the tree branch behind him.

"Suprise," he said while holding out a small bouquet of flowers.

Cornflowers

"I love them Touya," you said, examining each petal, and taking in the delicate glow they presented you with.

The happiness you two held in that moment was the experience of a lifetime, unfortunately, the loud yelling of Enji, ruined everything.

"Touya! Where are you?!" "If you're training I'll make sure to break your legs this time."

Touya's smile ultimately faded in the moment. "I need to head home." "Get home safe, I'll call you in the morning." He said while slowly turning around to walk home.

You, yourself headed home as well, holding the flowers in your hand, careful not to damage any pebbles.

When you reached home, you kicked off your shoes, and went straight to bed.

When you woke up in the morning you awaited his call. But strangely it never came.

Concerned, you decided to head off to the Todoroki Household.

Maybe he overslept? Maybe he forgot to call you? These questions puzzled your mind beyond belief.

When you reach the household, you notice the utter silence, which was strange for such a large family.

Walking to the front of the house you noticed something that made your heart drop, three police cars. Concerned you knock on the door, but you aren't greeted by Touya, Enji greets you instead.

"Touyas not here." "He's been missing since last night." He said with a somber look that was relatively out of character. As you know the horrors he committed behind closed doors.

Your chest feels heavy, and you're unable to speak, as the shock of the moment has paralyzed your body.

"There was a fire in the forest last night. Touyas' been pronounced dead." He continued. The shock of this news not registering correctly in your mind.

"Go home." "I'll call your parents when the situation dies down."

You were then met with the slam of the Todoroki family's front door.

You started to walk home. Your mind finally processing the gravity of the situation. Your best friend was gone.

When you reached your front door, your parents' car had returned to its original place. For they were home. You prepared yourself for a barrage of questions, as you slowly pried open the door. You were surprised to find your mom hugging you. "I heard about Touya, if you'd like to talk I'm here for you. Whenever you're ready." She said while breaking the hug and then walking back into the kitchen.

Not wanting to talk you headed back to your room. Opening up the door and closing it behind you only to see the flowers he left behind you, piercing your mind with thought.

What had really happened?

...

The first few weeks without Touya were an absolute hell. You didn't have the energy to do much of anything. You simply lay there, in your room, reading all the text messages you had sent to him the day he went missing.

Touya, I miss you. The police have pronounced you dead. But I know you're still out there. I can feel it. Please come home.

Touya it's been a week. Where did you go? Why did you have to leave me?

Just come home.

...

The first hard weeks turned into months with minor incidents, to six years of you trying to drown his disappearance by other distractions. Since you had a plant quirk, you did your best to keep the original bouquet of flowers. A singular petal wilting would send your mind into panic mode. You wanted to keep his memory alive.

You have moved away from home since then. Not a relatively long distance. Just one that was away from any major forests.

Staring at the flowers in your new home inspired you to replant the flowers. Not just in your home, but you'd plant them in an intricate pathway. From the opening he made in the forest for you, to your new home. So maybe, just maybe, he'll be able to find you again.

...

It didn't take long until the pathway was formed as your quirk cut down the planting and growing time by half. You waited until nightfall and the glow still resided.

You waited a few days, no signs of him. After a few weeks, no sign of him.

For it would be months until you saw him again.

One night you heard the same tapping noise on your window. You brushed it off as it was relatively windy that night. A louder tapping noise snapped you out of your doubt. Somebody was outside.

You looked out your window. White hair? Blue eyes? It was Touya.

You darted out your front door.

"Hey, beautiful." He said while you quite literally sprinted towards him.

Pulling him in for a hug, tracing your hands on his scars. You really did miss him.

For once you finally felt safe.

Kismet had brought you together again once more, and you wouldn't have it any other way.

TYSM for reading!!!!

#dabi #mha dabi #bnha #mha #dabi todoroki #touya todoroki #todoroki touya #dabi x reader #todoroki family #endeavor #enji todoroki #boku no hero academia #x you #x you angst #x you fluff #mha x reader #dabi is touya #touya x reader

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furiousgoldfish · 1 year

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I have a question: So like uh... how can you be sure if you are traumatized? My mind keeps swapping between thinking I'm traumatized and thinking I just had a slightly weird childhood and I'm simply over-reacting like I always do. Also second question that is more optional and you might not know: If your parents are unable to save you from an unfortunate circumstance like say... a sister that is violent loud and angry to both you and the parents.... and you often were in distress from say... a sister that would scream hit and punch and took all the parent attention to them and left you alone and hiding in your room... then could that lead to you growing up with the same effect of neglect? I'm guessing you would want a more clear picture of what happened to answer either one of these question so here it is: My sister was and is (but way more stable) mentally ill. I spent most of my years in elementary from 2nd and up living in a house with somebody who can harass, mock, and sometimes hurt me at any moment. She did mostly calm stuff like only say "retard" to me for a stretch of time that feels infinite because I was autistic, and almost punch me but stop and make fun of me getting scared. Very rarely she would go above and beyond by trying to drown me over a dipute and locking me in her room and refusing to let me out because I couldn't fix her computer. I adapted though, I pretty much avoided my sister as much as I can until recently when she calmed down. One thing I could never escape though was the yelling, the screaming, the crying. Every time my sister would have a mental breakdown, which was a whole, whole, whole lot, she was loud and sometimes violent about it. I was hardly ever in the middle of it, I usually just hid in my room while being forced to hear my sister's screams and my parents trying to get her to stop with as little force as possible. It's hard to describe the emotions, and I can try all I want to make you understand what this was like but I won't ever succeed so I'll stop. My sister also tried to kill herself a lot and been in and out of the mental hospital a whole lot so there is that too. Also my parents were amazing, don't worry. The worst thing about my parents is that my dad is a bit emotional but he usually didn't engage with my sister when he could get angry so it hardly came up in a bad way but he did escalate a lot of situations. My Mom was understanding and calm and didn't really fight back against my sister but like... in a good way, it's hard to describe without you knowing my sister. Sorry for the slop of words, I was thinking about like 2 other things at once while typing this and I don't have the energy to correct anything.

You can be sure you're traumatized if you have trauma symptoms. Trauma symptoms can range from feeling low self worth, fear and anxiety around people or specific circumstances and events, struggling with feeling normal around people, struggling with thoughts of self doubt, self hate, severe guilt and shame for everything that was done to you, or what happened, to the more recognizable ones: flashbacks, nightmares, emotional flashbacks, panic and anxiety attacks, losing control over emotions, not being able to regulate emotions at all, feeling unstable, desperate and terrified of the past and feeling low feelings or even complete despair about the future. It's also visible in struggling to have close relationships, feeling like you have to keep secrets, like nobody would love you if they truly knew you, feeling uncomfortable with people being near you or touching you (non-threateningly), running into isolation to keep yourself safe, or finding safety in substances, obsessions, addictions. Trauma can also manifest in development of disorders like eating disorders, anxiety disorder, panic disorder, ocd, depression. There's a lot of more subtle symptoms, you can check this list to see if any of this applies to you: Link.

It's often that traumatized people feel like they might be over-reacting, which is caused by the low self worth mentioned above; people who have normal self worth and are not self-conscious about how their emotions might inconvenience others, thus they don't stop to think if they're over-reacting, and take their feelings at face value. If a feeling is there, it's there for a reason, and the reason is unlikely to be something you made up. Sometimes what people will see as over-reacting is simply reacting to a trigger; even if you feel like your reaction was exaggerated, it's because something in your brain reacted to prior trauma and felt the need to evoke strong reaction so you would protect yourself against this event repeating, as it traumatized you in the past.

For example, if someone reacts with terror to a dog, we'd call it an over-reaction, but if you then find out they were bitten as a child and almost died, then terror is completely appropriate. It's like that with emotional trauma too, if something damaged you so badly as a kid you felt like you would never recover, your brain will react with terror or very strong emotions, to make sure you stay away and keep yourself protected. So it's really just a logical reaction, if you consider the past event and what it did to your life.

The circumstances you lived in as a child definitely warrant a lot of trauma. You describe your sister's presence as an 'unfortunate circumstance', but I don't see even one hint that your parents put actual effort in protecting you. Two adults are absolutely able to pay attention to more than one child at the time, and it sounds like you got completely neglected, and left to make your own conclusions to why that is. And you decided that parents cannot be at fault, because they couldn't do any better. I believe they could, because no child has deserved to be ignored and left to endure insults, slurs, screaming, yelling, punching, mocking, harassment and hurt at any moment, without any protection or care. Your parents were responsible for protecting you, and caring for you at any moment that you might have gotten hurt. It doesn't matter if they had 'a lot on their plate', because you are a human being they were responsible for protecting, and they failed you.

I can think of many things that could have been done differently to protect you, your sister could have been put in a place where she couldn't reach you, you could have been in a presence of a parent or a caretaker at all times to make sure nobody can hurt you, you could have been put in someone else's care as soon as it was obvious that your sister was hurting you, you could have been asked about it and comforted and a different solution could have been reached in order to make sure you live your childhood protected from all this.

Having one child that is a lot to manage does not mean you can now ignore all your other children and leave them to be hurt consistently because 'you cannot be bothered to pay attention to all of your kids' Also it sounds like instead of handling the child that was causing violence, they were escalating the situation and making it worse for you. Leaving one child to lash out at another is unacceptable, and it is both neglect and abuse. Protection from abuse is a part of what your parents are responsible for, and they failed you. And I can see you care so much for their good image, you're protecting them even as you're trying to talk about how they left you to fend for yourself in a world where you were harmed. Imagine if they felt that kind of compassion for you, and ran to protect you whenever you were alone with someone who was hurting you. You're showing more care for them in here, than they did for you in your childhood.

This had to be really hard for you to read, and I'm sorry for being so blunt. I'm not trying to tell you how you should see them, I'm just angry that you were put thru so much, and it didn't have to be like that. You know your situation better than I do, and if I'm completely wrong about everything, that's completely possible and you do not have to accept my opinion, your own is more important. I hope you're never left to fend for yourself in a world where others are likely to hurt you, that's not okay for a child to go thru, and it's painful and traumatic to an adult as well.

#abusive siblings #child abuse #abusive parents #sibling abuse #neglect #child neglect #failure to protect child from abuse #traumatic childhood #ask #furiousgoldfish

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