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ajortga · 1 month

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can you keep a secret?

pairing: wednesday addams x fem reader

summary: you miss your girlfriend who's recently transferred to nevermore academy. your persistent whining is able to transfer you to nevermore and cling onto her the whole time there.

word count: 5k+

based off request!

W and R are in a relationship, W transfers to Nevermore. W and R may not have anything in common, but they do on some things, like R being an outcast as well (a werewolf ), R insists their parents that they transfer to Nevermore too. After they successfully did, R immediately finds W, the outcast's curious to what'll happen to R (obvi doesn't know they knew each other).. Basically every student in Nevermore sees them together everyday. One, asks W who R is to W, she answers truthfully, "They're My Lover." everything and everyone just goes crazy

“Cara mia, we live next to each other,” Wednesday says softly, brushing your hair back as you braid her black silky hair.

You hum, a little sad, finishing to braid her two tiny braids that hung low to her chest.

“But I won’t see you in school, baby." A huff escapes your lips as your girlfriend sighs, giving up on trying to coax your madness.

“Or at all,” you add, “you’ll have a damn dorm with some girl that you’ve never seen before. It’s not fair.”

The raven-haired girl rolls her eyes, “I’ll cut off my heart with the sharpest knife I know if I ever started to love someone more than you,” Wednesday suggests, trying to make you feel better.

She cups your cheeks as you refuse to speak and rubs her thumb gently around the pink tint covering them. A way to always make you feel better. Yet she knows better because you certainly don’t look better.

“We’re both outcasts Weds. My stupid parents just won’t allow me to transfer because they think Nevermore is weird. Yet they went to school there. That's not fair."

“They’re just trying to protect you. I'd feel that way too for our daughter if Nevermore had hurt me. If someone ever hurt you, they’re death will be a long one. Sufferable and miserable. So bad that they’ll beg for forgiveness before they bleed out.”

Usually Wednesday would expect you to smile and giggle, but you’re not. Why does your girlfriend have to leave you?

“Can’t you stay?” You ask, voice tiny.

“As much as I sneak out, Mother has already informed everyone including your parents not to let me stay the night. They are used to my.. Tactics per say.”

Your sharp nails from your growth as a soon to be wolfed out werewolf emerges, clawing the wood you attached to your wall when this kind of stuff happens.

"I can sneak you in and I'll even build you a door in my closet," you suggest.

"No, Y/N."

"What if we install a life-like robot and I'll sneak out with you?"

"No."

You huff angrily, slashing the wood.

Wednesday firmly takes your hand, and your hand almost scratches her, yet it stops as you don’t want to hurt her, “Stop that.”

“No,” you state, tugging your hand away and sinking them into the wood, so hard that a big ass dent forms.

Your girlfriend sighs, rolling her eyes as she sweeps her bangs away from her eyes, “I don’t know what you want me to do bambina. Maybe I could.. Sneak you away from this horrid place. But at what cost? Nevermore seems strange. Not strange in a way I’d want to discover in mysteries though.”

She sees the way you sigh, disappointed. Upset.

“You’ll be there for a whole school year, it’s far.”

“I’ll bring my typewriter. Distance won’t change that, swear on my cemetery. I’ll write you letters at night, secretly take the principal's mailbox and send them to you. Or I’ll threaten Thing in my backpack and crawl till he can give it to you.” Wednesday isn’t kidding, her stare is cold, well usually it was cold, but not towards you. “He can suffer in thorns, I’ll stitch him up, just as long as.. You’ll write back?”

You nod, yet you don’t care about the letters, you care about her.

“You’ll send them?”

“Yes.”

“Every night?”

“Yes.”

“What if you begin to stop when you feel like it’s not working anymore?”

“I won’t Y/N.”

“You can’t know that.”

“Oh, but I do.”

"No you don't, you don't know the future."

"But I do know that I won't stop sending my letters. I can feel it."

You stop scratching the wood and you bury yourself on Wednesday, breathing in her scent as you try to comfort yourself. Yet even when the lights are off, your heart is pounding, feeling alone.

A tear falls from your cheek as you watch Lurch stuff his trunk, Wednesday talking to her mother and father, while hesitantly hugging Pugsley.

“You’ll have so much fun.” Morticia says, with a smile, kissing her cheek and staining it slightly with her black lipstick.

“Define fun as boring and a punishment, sure,” Wednesday stiffly responds, yet softens as she looks at you. She takes her mother’s hand off her shoulder and approaches you.

“If you cry, it'll be raining all day. And you don't want it to be all gloomy for you? I don't want my socks wet. A poem, along with two pages written in a small font. One to express my day, and one to express that stupid love so you can sleep peacefully at night with nightmares.” Wednesday says, stopping for a moment, “sweet nightmares,” she adds.

You nod, yet your tear stained cheeks aren’t really helping, she reaches up and wipes it off with her thumb. Then let you hug her, you immediately bury yourself into her and she sighs.

“I’ll be thinking of you, till every grain of sand can be counted.”

You watch her approach the car, then slip in. She has the window scroll down, and you look at her. As the car engine roars, you bite your lip. And slowly watch it wheel away. Slowly jogging till it’s out of sight.

It’s been two weeks. And sure enough, Wednesday has kept her promise. She’s sent you letters you’ve kept in your drawer, they’re never repetitive, but always show you love. You like it like that, knowing that it isn’t a chore for her to write letters for you. If anything, they’ve lengthened in size as she's sent more and more.

It makes you miss her a little more. You have to hug your life-sized stuffed animal at night that she sprayed her perfume on. She also left half a bottle on your counter, just in case it runs out. Though it takes longer to sleep, it makes you feel a little better knowing there was something that was like a piece of her beside you.

Thing has visited you, and you know that little guy has a huge memory. You lost the letter you were going to hand Thing, and though you were a little sad, he moved his fingers and you realized you could speak to him for hours and he would tell Wednesday every detail. She had even wrote to you,

I owe Thing a thank you, yet he can be provoking at times. He had communicated to me for an hour, thirty minutes, and thirty two seconds about your day. I always wonder what secrets lay in the Addams Family. Yet I’m not quite comprehending why Thing has a big memory space.

Nonetheless, I think about you everyday. My roommate, Enid, has been unpleasant with her interesting taste of fashion and colors. It’s distracting. In a negative way. You’re distracting in a way where I can’t take my eyes off your enticing figure Y/N. Weems had bothered me the whole day, smothered me with questions and made sure I was doing fine. No wonder why mother got along with her so much. Those two are like the same person just one with smothered ink. But, something that sparked my particular interest was that you can dorm with two other people. Thing had told me that there was an accident at your school. If you’d like, which I’d appreciate, could ask your mother about transferring, say it’s dangerous. You aren’t a late wolfer, but convince her possibly that Nevermore can increase your chances. Wish you were here, I hate Mr. Tuesday. That white bunny is always staring at me during my typing time. But I can tolerate him a bit more, knowing you gifted it to me. You love Mr. Tuesday, so I appreciate your gesture. It’s not often I get visions, but they’ve almost made me want to experience them more. I see you in them, baking. Writing to me. It makes me almost happy.

Enid keeps trying to get to know me, she’s a strange soul, but she’s a werewolf, like you. You two are nothing alike, yet I think you two would get along a bit too much. Except you don’t blast random glitter pop music during the night. During my WRITING TIME. Even thinking about it rots my brain. But I miss you cariño. Sleep tight, I’ve left at least 300 things to hide in your house and you’ll never expect where they are. But everyone is special, it’ll make you at least smile a little when I tell you each night. Today’s item is snuck inside your bed, I used Mother’s chainsaw to cut through the wood, it’s a tiny version of Mr. Tuesday. I asked Thing the other day to sneak it in that spot and he sanded the wood back in. It should be a sort of door. But I crocheted it during my free time, there are times where I can’t think during my writing time. That is an understatement, but I only think of you. But I’m hoping you can enjoy it for today.

Love you, sleep cozily,

Weds

You smile as you look under your bed, now noticing the small outline from Wednesday’s chainsaw and you open the little compartment to see another crocheted white bunny of Mr. Tuesday. You nuzzle it and place it on your desk. You love him. You even spent a few minutes grabbing white yarn and attaching it to your tote bag.

You think about what Wednesday said, someone had gotten hurt in your school from being stabbed by a senior that was drunk. Obviously he didn’t mean it. But you had seen how anxious your mom got when she found out the news.

It was 11:23PM, and your mom’s room light was illuminated from the hallway. You get out of bed, ruffle your hair, and approach her room. Your only thought is Wednesday.

Before you could even ask, you already noticed her holding a black card, the logo of Nevermore Academy apparent. It said in bolded letters, 1965 Jericho’s long lasting Nevermore Academy. One for outcasts.

“Mom?” You said, your voice slowly quiet, and she looked up at you, waving you over.

“Hi honey,” she replies, “I’ve been thinking about the accident at your school. And I know you don’t like that place that much. And as much as I feel like I should keep you there. Your safety is important to me.”

Your excitement grows, you want to have that wide smile off your face.

“So?...” You question, wondering if she was saying what you were thinking she meant.

“And you keep bringing Wednesday up. So me and Morticia talked, and I talked with your father. We’re going to send you to Nevermore, but only if you want to. As long as you write to us every end of the week and call us. We want our little wolf to meet ones like her. It’s not often you find ones like us here.”

You nod.

“Yes!”

You didn't even think it would be that easy.

As soon as you get the news you squeal and call Wednesday early in the morning. She responds almost quickly, her voice on the other line, “What brings you to call me this early Y/N?”

“I’m transferring to Nevermore!” You say, you were much more excited but your tired voice betrayed you.

There’s a pause, then a small, “What?”

“I’m coming!”

A laugh and you can almost feel your girlfriend smiling with a toothy grin with her ear pressed to the phone.

“I knew your parents would let you go somehow,” she says, voice more excited, yet anyone else would not notice but you.

You can hear some rustling, “I’m going to ask Weems if you can dorm with me. I can kick Enid out for all I care, yet she isn’t horrible. Just, I’d rather spend it with you if she doesn’t allow a three dorm. Maybe I shouldn’t bring up a three dorm at all.”

“Thing, go back home and ask Father if Lurch can drive Y/N to Nevermore. Actually, include that if he won’t ask, I’ll shave his head off. Also make sure that he sprays two times of her favorite perfume, have her favorite sour candy ready, her headphones, her books, and tell him to pack some melon milk for her too. And her cow stuffie. Make sure he’s playing the playlist she made that’s saved in the car.”

There is a pause, and she makes a small, ‘oh oh’

“Baby,” Wednesday doesn’t call you that much, but when she does you’re over the moon. It usually shows that she’s happy. Really happy, yet her voice is still soft and composed, “I installed a door behind your clothes in your closet, guess we’ll unwrap the 300 presents when we go home. But I got another Mr. Tuesday there, he has some sort of costume on.”

She pauses, you hear a random girl jumping up and down in the background, squealing about something as your girlfriend groans and presses her ear back into her phone, sending Enid an annoyed glare, “Pack your stuff, I’ll be waiting. I might as well cut my ears off if Enid won’t stop blabbing her mouth off.” You can tell that Wednesday turns her head to face her new roommate, she says louder, since Enid couldn’t hear her talking to you, “Better yet, slice her mouth off.” Then Enid’s squeals die down.

You grin through the phone as you grab out another version of Mr. Tuesday with a mushroom hat, you hug him tight.

The doorbell rings and you hear your mom open it, putting Wednesday on speaker phone.

“I’m almost done packing.��

“Y/N, honey. Mrs. Addams requests to see you,” your mother’s voice echoes through the hallway and you glance at the door.

You don’t know how Wednesday can hear it but she does, “I’m taking into conclusion that she received my message. Oh yes, she replied with those stupid icons. Yet it is one of a thorny rose and a gravestone.”

“Coming!” You stuff your bags, “Be right back.”

You almost choke as Morticia brings you into her embrace, hugging her back with an easing gentleness.

“Hello little one,” her soft voice says, the one you find comfort in as much as you do Wednesday’s. She gently rubs your hair, “I informed Lurch for your arrival, he’s outside whenever you’ll be ready dear. I’m so glad you decided to willingly join Nevermore. It has been a place that holds many memories. It’s where I met Gomez and fell in love. Maybe Wednesday and you can find the secrets in it. Go on journeys with her. Dig some graves, set them on fire."

It weird you out, but you smile, nodding, “To spend it with Wednesday is all I need.”

“You’re a special soul, a pure heart I can handle. Now go,” she waves you away, “Don’t keep him waiting for long.”

You give her one last grin and look over your shoulder before turning the corner.

After hanging up on Wednesday when you finish packing all your bags, your mother and father hug you goodbye and give you your favorite cranberry juice. Sweet.

It’s cozy in the Addams car, comfortingly with no talk, just the music Wednesday requested (forced) Lurch to play that lingers in your playlist. You feel like a butler with all the requests Wednesday smothered him with.

An hour passes and you can see the way the clouds slightly come into view, then you see the environment change as a sign that reads, “Welcome to Jericho! A Town of History”

Then, you finally see the academy in view, and Lurch arrives right in front, before taking your bags and guiding you to Principal Weems.

“It is my honor to have you here at Nevermore. This school has history, and where you’ll certainly grow,” her smile is wide, a little too welcoming it gets a little scary.

You just give small mumbles and nods, “Well, Morticia called me this morning and I quickly looked through your demographics. It also isn’t a coincidence that you have straight A’s. A 4.3 GPA. Many extracurriculars, and of course, you’re a werewolf. I see.”

“It is no surprise also that you had gone to the same school as another student who just enrolled, Morticia’s daughter, Wednesday. She sure is.. Different. But nonetheless talented. She had asked me yesterday afternoon if it was possible to have a dorm of three, and I’m assuming that you have been planning to dorm with her for the rest of the semester?”

She reads your mind, you immediately nod your head up and down, “Yes.”

“Well, most of the 3 dorms have been occupied, but her and Enid seem to have a slow relationship. I’ll have her in my office today, but by the end of the night or tomorrow morning I’ll give you my answer.” Weems scribbles on a note, writes some address and a name, “You’ll be rooming with Yoko, sound okay?”

You nod.

“Alright, I’ll call Enid up, for your guide.”

“..Guide?”

She nods, “Of course, we have many classes you can do, and people you can meet. She knows this place well, and I know that she’ll open up your shell.”

As Wednesday watches Enid leave, a soft grin forms on her face as she unties Thing from the random crocheted pink jacket Enid made for him.

Her eyes scan Enid as the door closes, then she turns to him, “I’m expecting Y/N is here. I’ve crocheted a questionable amount of Mr. Tuesdays.” She informs, “I shouldn’t have admitted that,” Wednesday sighs, as she pulls out the drawer next to her to reveal at least 40 assorted sizes of the same bunny. There were some in outfits, wigs. Wednesday almost finds it as therapeutic as her writing time. She crochets them whenever Enid leaves their dorm.

Thing smacks his head, and the braided girl glares at him, “Don’t judge me, I can cut off your fingers any time,” she threatens, seeing the way Thing surrendered with two fingers up in the air.

Then he moves around his fingers and does random hand movements.

“You think I’d follow Enid and try to make conversation with Y/N so much that Enid will get suspicious? You’d really think I’d do that?”

Thing agrees.

“Then, you know me too well, let’s go.”

“Enid, glad you’re- Wednesday? It seems like you’ve tagged along,” Weems adds as she almost seems surprised, looking at her. If anything, the look in her eye is cautious.

“Yes,” Wednesday responds, trying to avoid the way your eyes almost smile as you look at her, but if anyone else were to look at you, they wouldn’t notice. “I’ve decided to accompany Enid, this is much more exciting than some other events at Nevermore,” she adds again, not entirely rude.

You sit in the middle while Wednesday takes the only left seat available, scooches her chair closer. Her hand rubs over yours after meeting under the covers of Weem’s desk. She takes note of how a small smile creeps on your face when Weem talks because of that.

“This is actually so awesome,” the blonde cheers next to you, making you turn your head and turn it, confused.

“We’re both werewolves silly! We should dorm 3 together! Wait, are there even any 3 dorms left?” When the principal shakes her head no, Enid sighs, “Then Wednesday can pair with Yoko. Actually, she barely even talks to Yoko, let alone handle her better than she’ll be able to handle me.”

You blink, glance at Wednesday for a moment and she shakes her head frantically.

“What if I dorm with her?”

The question leaves everyone silent, well everyone is surprised but Wednesday.

“You’d want to room with Wednesday while Enid rooms with Yoko?”

There's a lingering silence as you look around, “Why not? I'd like to get to know her better,” you lie. The most you want to do is get to talk to your girlfriend again.

"Oh. You don't want to, you know, get to know Wednesday before actually having to dorm with her?"

"Nope."

"Well, then that’s settled for your dorm. I’ll have to file Enid for a dorm change. But I’d like to ask if that is okay for both Wednesday and Enid.”

“Yes,” your girlfriend immediately responds, then coughs a little to cover up her excitement that’s masked behind her calm demeanor. “I can take a break from someone that is the complete opposite of me.

“I’d be happy to dorm with Yoko, at least I can have my music playing at night and my glitter-”

“My ears are bleeding Enid, don’t mention that word you just said.”

“Glitter?” Enid questions.

“No.”

You giggle from your girlfriend’s demeanor, squeezing her hand under the desk.

“This is Ophiela Hall! You don’t need to find your people here, you can make plenty of friends in other groups, but you have a group of werewolves! And what makes it even better is that we haven’t wolfed out!” Enid jumps up and down and you watch her legs bounce up and down, up and down. She’s like a whole party.

People give you two small looks, both you and Wednesday can tell they’re almost surprised she tagged along with someone whos new. It makes you smile a little.

Your girlfriend notices them whispering about you. Not anything bad, you seem like the sweetest person out of them all, but they’re whispering about the two of you. Even Bianca gives you a cautious look, but you’re too distracted to know what their saying as Enid keeps talking to you and dragging you along. Wednesday follows like a puppy.

“Enid, hey.” A boy speaks up, and you turn around at the new voice, he’s wearing blue and a beanie. The same tie everyone is wearing.

“Oh hi Ajax, this is Y/N. She’s new and I’m showing her around.”

A glare is thrown at Ajax as your girlfriend exhales. You give a small wave, “Hi.”

“You a werewolf too?”

You nod, seeing the way his hat kind of turns sideways, poking some peeking out snakes back into it. That’s scary.

The bell rings and you look around, confused, Enid grabs the paper you stuck in your bag.

“Oh, hey! Your next class is with Wednesday and I, it’s just plant anatomy with Thornhill. Come on.”

Somehow Wednesday gets Xaiver to move away from her, so now you’re sitting next to her.

“What the hell is this class?”

“Thornhill just talks about plants. The only entertaining aspect of this is that I like seeing Bianca fail to beat me. Though that goes in almost everything.”

The auburn hair girl turns around, with a wide smile and fairly big glasses for the size of her head.

“It’s a pleasure to have a new student, I’m glad to have you in our third period class Y/N.”

You embarrassingly smile, everyone looking at you, some with smiles and some with just small glances.

“Could you give us the formula on how to turn this plant into a…” Thornhill goes on and you look at the plant, it seems it’s a Ghost Orchid.

You answer almost immediately, and Wednesday nudges you with her foot to almost say a ‘yay.’

Bianca stares at you as Thronhill clasps her hands together, “Exactly, you know your plants well. I’m sure you’ll excel here. Today we’ll have a change of assignments. It’ll be a challenge for duos against other duos and whoever answers first, and correctly for that fact, will earn a point till all the questions run out. Sound easy enough? Alright, let me get my cards ready.”

A knowing smirk grows in between you two, “We’ll win in no time,” Wednesday states, you look at the duos. It’s you and her, Enid and Yoko, Bianca and Divina, and other people you have no clue about, including Xaiver.

The game starts and before Thornhill can even get to the end of the question, you and Wednesday slap the bell, giving out the answer.

“Quick hands,” Xavier mumbles.

“That’s correct! Great job girls.”

The game goes on, and you’re tied with Bianca’s team. The silence can be cut with a knife as the two duos anticipately wait for the question. As Thornhill begins to read out the question, it takes you two a while to know the answer. Bianca and Divina seem stuck.

It’s several moments before the learning in your past catches up to you, slamming the bell and saying out the answer.

“Correct once again! You two win, great job! You can grab a succulent or stick to two pieces of candy that’s probably expired at the end of class.”

You and Wednesday high-five and to say the least, everyone is surprised because the braided-hair girl never let’s anyone touch her.

Weeks have past, and you’ve never been happier. Giving ideas for Wednesday’s stories that even she never thought about, helping her crochet more Mr. Tuesdays, so much that she had thing steal a laundry basket from Weem’s office, and even braid her hair and put black ribbons. She’s grateful to have you at Nevermore, her stories have been expanding because of you.

Your always stuck to her side, fencing playfully with her, even willing to go out in the woods with her. But she hasn’t went out since your arrival, knowing that you wouldn’t want to leave her side, and she certainly doesn’t want you getting hurt.

Even you and her worked together designing a matching cat on your black and white pajamas.

It’s fun when you two get to talk about life when you two are in your dorms, even better when you two are on the balcony and watching the stars. Wednesday plays the cello while you sing. She loves that she has someone that she puts her closed-off personality aside for.

“I love it, you look so pretty with bows baby,” you say, tying the ribbon.

“You look pretty with bows or without cara mia.”

“Shut ‘p,” you say, smacking her arm lightly as she wraps her arms around you and rubs your hair.

It’s not long till Weems announce that it’s time for lunch.

Wednesday gets up, signalling you to come with her, but when you don’t, she comes back to sit next to you.

“I’m just looking for my necklace, you can go ahead, it won’t take long, promise.”

She sighs, and nods for a moment, then points at Thing, “Help her.”

Thing waves his hands as she blows a soft air kiss and closes the door.

It’s sprinkling a little bit when Wednesday is outside.

“How does Wednesday act so non-hazardous with Y/N? It’s honestly impressive.”

“That’s not impressive, how the hell does she not smack her or give her glares? Do you not see the way her eyes actually look normal when she looks at her? Not even normal, they’re gentle! Plus she was the first to go run and get a bandaid when Y/N accidentally got a paper cut.”

It’s like they summoned the girl, who’s holding a plate of her lunch.

Enid smiles and Wednesday sits down, looking at everyone.

“Are you seriously speaking about me?”

“Yes.”

“Why?”

“We want to know why the hell you are actually sweet with Y/N.”

“You could’ve used any word besides sweet.”

“Baby-like?”

“Even worse.”

“Don’t dodge the question,” Bianca adds, somehow now being in this conversation, “You killed the biggest spider that was crawling to her, for her.”

“She doesn’t like spiders. Who wouldn’t use not being afraid of spiders to protect someone who is?”

Bianca blinks, then wrinkles her nose, “If it was me you’d certainly let it bite me.”

“Well that’s different.”

Everyone at the table groans, “Exactly!”

“What did I tell you?”

“The only person you’d not let it bite is Y/N, we just want to know why.”

“I’m protecting her because she’s my girlfriend.”

Everyone turns their head to her, “What?”

Enid slams her fists to the table, “I fucking knew it. I knew it! Ajax, you owe me five dollars. I CALLED IT.”

“The Wednesday Addams actually has a girlfriend?”

“Why didn’t we catch on?”

“They’re kinda cute together- don’t even speak or she’ll actually cut your head off if you say cute.”

Everyone is arguing with each other, going crazy. But by the time they cool down and look at where Wednesday was sitting, her seat is empty.

Then everyone looks around and sees her draping her black jacket over your tiny figure, she pulls you closer to her chest as you hold onto her. (Let’s say she’s atleast 4 inches taller than 5’1 in this.) You tug her big jacket over your shoulders as you hug her. She holds onto you and guides you to the table, kissing your forehead and brushing your damp hair.

Even when she comes back, she bends down and takes the butterfly that’s resting on your hair and places it on your hand. “I heard somewhere that if a butterfly lands on you, it means that they see you as a beautiful flower.”

“I never heard that before.”

“I know, I made that up.”

Everyone starts screaming again, making your girlfriend and your heads snap at them.

“Look at them!”

“Aw! So cute!”

“I want to say this is disgusting but they’ll be my roman empire soon enough.”

You turn back to her, seeing her eyes soften, almost happily, "You told them?”

“I didn’t know why they didn’t conclude to that in the beginning.”

Bianca groans, rolling her eyes as everyone is screaming, then Xavier chimes in. "Back to that spider scenario. I definitely think Wednesday would kill it for me."

You glare at him, clinging onto your girlfriend a little more like a koala. She rubs your back as you tighten your arms around her.

"Your sense of self-love is filled with stupidity. I'd kill the spiders that are harmless to you and leave the ones that are most venomous and ugly looking for people like you."

Xavier goes quiet, making a defeated grunt.

Everyone does their little, 'awws' again. You turn to her, now that everyone knows about your status.

“At least we can kiss in the hallways?”

“Maybe save that for the dorms.”

“Can we kiss right now?”

Wednesday’s eyebrows lift up, and she sighs, turning you away from the group and giving you a light kiss, as your lips press together, she nudges a small Mr. Tuesday now with inverted colors, a black bunny. They're both holding hearts and have a star over their head.

"Now Mr. Tuesday has a Mr. Wednesday," she says softly, tucking her black jacket tighter around you as you continue hugging her.

"And Miss. Y/L/N has a Miss. Addams."

#jenna ortega x reader #jenna ortega x fem!reader #jenna ortega x you #tara carpenter x reader #jenna ortega imagine #vada cavell x reader #tara carpenter x you #jenna marie ortega #jenna ortega x y/n #vada cavell x y/n #wednesday addams x you #wednesday addams x reader

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milligramspoison · 7 months

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Since it seems like MCR is performing TBP from front to back at WWWY next year, here are the times they last performed each song!

(Counting out setlist staples such as WTTBP for example)

The Black Parade

The End. - last performed on October 7th, 2007

Dead! - last performed on August 27th, 2011

This Is How I Disappear - last performed on March 26th, 2023

The Sharpest Lives - last performed on May 9th, 2008

I Don’t Love You - last performed on October 17th, 2022

House of Wolves - last performed on March 20th, 2023

Cancer - last performed on March 19th, 2023

Sleep - last performed on March 26th, 2023

Disenchanted - last performed on October 7th, 2007

Blood - has never been performed live (yet)

#since mama teenagers flw and wttbp are setlist staples they were excluded from this list #mcr #my chemical romance #my chem

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shiny-jr · 10 months

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from DIASOMNIA

- Warning: Yes, this is still a yandere thing. You have been warned. Gender-neutral reader.

- Characters: Malleus Draconia, Lilia Vanrouge, Silver, Sebek Zigvolt.

- Summary: (Continuation, after this “we just got a letter, wonder where it’s from”) You have barred them from entering the safety of Ramshackle Dorm, but they are determined to make their words reach you. Which is why the letters begin arriving at your doorstep.

- Note: This is just the first part, only with Diasomnia. I’ll post the rest later once its written. For now, I hope you enjoy this part! Oh, and this was inspired by the mention of letters @qierxing‘s fic inspired by the whole imposter au idea. So yeah. Hopefully I caught all the mistakes in this post because I am not rereading all that again.

Diasomnia | Ignihyde

Among the first letters you pick is carefully sealed in a black envelope. You found it peculiar that Grim, who had offered to use his claws to open the envelopes, hadn’t been able to cause the slightest tear as if it were being protected by some magic. But it opened with ease during your first attempt to rip it open.

You didn’t care much for the wax family crest that had sealed it, or the black envelope itself. Maybe it would feel liberating to just set them all ablaze as soon as you finished skimming over the carefully written words.

To my dearest human,

I understand the pain I have caused you.

Ever since that moment I betrayed you, all I have seen in my vision and in my mind is your expression of terror. It tortures me. Your terror spurred by my actions and my very own hands. I am your most beloved and loyalest of companions in this world, and yet, had my retainers behind those doors not intervened, you would have been gone forever. And it would have been all my doing, all my fault.

I write this letter to apologize, but as I write this, I realize that there is no forgiving what has been done. Ever. No matter how I plead or what comes from my lips. But I will say this: there are no amount of words that can truly convey how sorry I am. This will haunt me for the remainder of my centuries of life.

Agonizing thoughts plague my mind and torment me at all hours of the day and night, at every and each moment. Even now, I reflect on everything I had done to harm you. While, the time I believed in those falsehoods was minuscule compared to the days others knew and acted upon it, the fact still stands that I was too easily deceived by mere rumors alone. I was blinded by my rage when I heard that someone dared to impersonate you and had been the probable cause of your vessel’s malfunction, that I did not even take a brief respite to consider the validity of the information that reached my ears.

Believe me, although I realize you have no reason to hold even a shred of faith in a single word I say and for that I would not blame you, but I will atone for the crimes I have committed. In any way possible. Even if it takes my entire lifetime, I will continue forward until I have achieved this goal and you may smile upon me once again. There is a human saying, which if I recall correctly I believe goes something like, forgive but never forget. Well, I would beg for forgiveness, while knowing full well that my misdeeds will never truly be forgotten. The harm I inflicted will leave scars that will never fully fade.

For every scratch my nails left on your delicate flesh, you may drive vines of the sharpest thorns against my own skin until blood pools all around me. For every bruise from my hand that tainted you, I would hand you an iron sword to use as you wish against me until you believe I’ve had enough. If it pleased you, I would even utilize my magic to transform into a figure with wings, which I would then proceed to sever the wings by my own hand and offer them to you on a silver platter.

Any punishment you can think of, I would readily accept.

Although living with the guilt of my mistakes and knowledge of the weight of my actions against you, is by far the most painful torture I’ve ever known.

If I do not receive word from you soon, I fear I may go insane with my own guilt. Yet I know I bring this upon myself. And if I were to go insane, if I was not insane this entire time already, you are all that would be in my thoughts. You are all that would remain in the part of my mind that is intact. You are currently and have been all that I think of, so perhaps my sanity is already long gone.

I would venture into the deepest crevices of hell and back, just to prove my worth to you. Even if I must be punished for the rest of my life, so be it. But I implore you to allow me to redeem myself, let yourself bear witness to the incredible feats I may accomplish in your name. Redemption... The thought of perhaps one day receiving the blessing of your smile and your grace once more in the near or distant future, is the light at the end of the tunnel in this dark period of my existence. I am yours. Whether you still desire me or not, I will forever be yours, and I will brave through trials of fire to demonstrate my eternal devotion to you.

Just know that I will do everything in my power to please you. Whether it be to fulfill the judgement you cast upon me, to demonstrate my worth and determination to achieve redemption, or simply because you command it so, it shall be done.

For now, I will wait on your response and deliberate over my next course of action. Should you desire anything, anything at all, wether it be something as simple as traveling to the store for a purchase, you have a moment of recluse and desire company, or if you command me to move the island or clear the very heavens, all you must do is speak my name. Then, consider it done. Once my name is upon your lips, I will be there as the last syllable leaves your tongue.

I will await the moment I am summoned.

Forever yours,

Malleus Draconia

That was... unnerving. Your hand unconsciously drifted up to the slight puncture wounds on your neck. They had long since dried, but you vividly remember feeling the thin trail of crimson being drawn and dripping down like a steady stream.

You could remember the way Malleus withdrew as soon as he realized the truth, like he had been burned with his hands on you in that fashion. The blood, your blood, staining his sharpened nails. The red was deeper than any nail polish or ink.

You were nearly sent spiraling, until you felt a tap and the texture of paper against your arm. When you glance down, you see Grim pressing his paws with another crumpled letter onto you. The ink on this letter is red, but the feline’s wide curious eyes are a glowing blue.

“You okay? What’s so interesting about that wall you’re lookin’ at? You’re kinda just staring off into nothing there.”

Offering a grateful nod to Grim who frowned worriedly, you accept the already opened envelope while tossing aside the letter from Malleus. “I’m good. Just... thinking.”

Lifting a hand, you place your palm against his head and scratch the spot behind his ears. Grim lets out a content purr and holds a bag of junk food, which he probably found among the mountain of gifts, and curls up beside you. You continue the slow and soothing scratches as you use your freehand to unravel the letter Grim brought you from the towering stacks.

This envelope was already cut open. It was a light brown and more square-shaped as thin rope kept it tied together. It had a mash of colorful strings that formed a messy bow to top it off. At least, you assumed it was meant to be a bow, but it looked more like a messy knot that would be impossible to untangle. Good thing it was already partially cut by Grim’s claws earlier.

As mentioned, the ink was red, an interesting choice. While the handwriting was not as elegant as Malleus’ letter. Some words were written neatly, before falling off the line and blending with other words. Making it a bit difficult to read, but you managed.

If you’re reading this,

This means that I am not irredeemable in your eyes.

Had I been beyond redemption, you would have not even opened this letter. If this was a lost cause, a merry dance, this paper would’ve been tossed into the trash without a second thought. But, my words have reached you. You’re reading this right now, aren’t you? It’s why I decided to write this. I could predict the actions you’d take. You are different from your vessel, but it’s only natural that you would act similarly to the silly little doll you controlled, the same doll that sparked this whole fiasco.

I truly am so sorry if I frightened you. While I will admit, it was my intention to strike fear into your heart and use you to serve for another dubious purpose, that was when I hadn’t recognized you. Although, I know this doesn’t mean much to you, I figured I should be entirely honest to you. It’s the least I can do. I’m such a fool for being quick to believe the rumors like some sort of senseless child.

All I can do now, is remain true and offer up my loyalty. It’s nothing compared to the mistakes I made, and I’ve made plenty, but I know an apology will never suffice. So, even if you’re still uncertain about redemption, I’ll remain loyal. Among all the beings and creatures I’ve met in my lifetime, you remain an enigma. You’re human, but at the same time, you’re different. There continues to be so much I do not know of you. I wonder, could you hear me whenever I spoke to your plaything? Do you recall the stories I told, of my time as a reckless youth? Foolhardy, wild, that I was. But I was also fiercely loyal. For the Draconias, I razed down all foes like wheat in a field.

Now that I consider it, perhaps it's best if you hadn’t heard me recount those tales. While I had been eager to share with you my experiences and act out my thrilling adventures, perhaps my story telling was much too graphic. I wouldn’t want the vivid details of bloodshed to be cause for alarm as our most recent encounter was far from pleasant. You have to forgive me, sometimes I get carried away when narrating my accomplishments and exploits. I’ll share more light-hearted memories with you the next time we meet.

Our first meeting with your true self really went abysmally, didn’t it? I know that things never really go as planned, so I don’t bother planning such things in advance. But, I had pictured it to be a lovely moment. Silver and Sebek would look at you with shining eyes and proclaim their loyalty as they had practiced vows over and over again for such an occasion, I would get to embrace your true form and unlock your secrets, and of course Malleus would be truly content for once as he finally received the company he deserved.

But, as expected, things didn’t go accordingly.

Those three youths are miserable, thinking of the proper words to pen, a way to apologize for the suffering they’ve caused. But now, we are the ones suffering because we hurt you.

They write and write, but tear their letters over and over again as they believe no words they’ve written so far are adequate. Soon they’ll realize that no words will ever be sufficient for an apology. Even if they were to create new words that are unheard of by any dictionary, it would not come close to being enough. That’s why I’ve decided to stick with this single attempt, because I already know that nothing I ever write will measure up to being acceptable.

There is something about you that always leaves me bemused. Your grace left me feeling dizzy and giddy, like I was experiencing a little crush again, although this was much more intense than any crush. The truth about your vessel controlled by you, had me perplexed as I had never heard of such a thing. And well, the disastrous chase that followed your arrival... you know that part well and could assume how I feel about that from what I’ve told you. At present, all I can do is remain loyal, for what my loyalty is worth to you. Beyond that, despite having an abundance of experiences, there is no such situation that could have prepared me for this moment.

Genuinely, I am stumped once again. I cannot even envision what can be done with my own two hands, that can be worthy of your attention once again and earn me redemption. But, you can be certain of one thing, and that is: my loyalty is undying. I still have a few years left in these old bones of mine, and I will use the rest of my life to serve you.

Whether you want me or not. If you still want me, I will be of use to you. Whatever you are in need of, a soldier, a plaything, a companion, or even someone to take out your anger on. I shall be it. If you don’t want me, I will still be there. I will always be there to smile and lift your spirits like you once did for me through your doll.

I eagerly wait for word from you.

Until we meet again soon,

Lilia Vanrouge

None of these letters were comforting in the slightest. In fact, they only placed you further on edge. For a moment, you considered stopping it here after only two and getting rid of the rest.

Grim by now had settled in your lap, and looked up at you with those watchful blue eyes. Had he been staring at you the entire time?

“Let me guess, they’re not taking it well?”

“No, not at all.” You answer with a grimace. If this was how they were like now, you didn’t even want to know how they acted when they found out your vessel stopped working over a week ago.

“Huh, sucks for them.” The feline stretched out, his claws poking out for a moment before quickly retracting as he plopped back down on his back with his stomach up. Maybe it was his own attempts to fill the silence, or to let you know you weren’t alone, but he eventually groaned. “Hey, read me one. I wanna know what they say.”

Unable to say no to your companion, you nodded slowly and smiled weakly, “Alright, alright, let’s see what we have here...”

You plucked out a random letter with neat packaging. However, just because the exterior was pretty, didn’t mean the interior message would be. You learned that already from the last two letters you had read.

This envelope looked somewhat similar to the last one, square-shaped and tied closed with string. However, instead of the knot of ribbons on it, it held a simpler gift. The brown rope around it was tied in a neat bow, and between the string were lavender stems with a small branch of wild berries.

Grim immediately indulged in the berries and the flowers, staining his little fangs and whiskers with the sweet sticky juice and purple petals. All the while exclaiming, “Oh, oh! I remember this letter. Some bird came to drop it and it flew away just before I could catch it...”

A short laugh escaped your lips as you hear him. “So that’s why you were grumbling this morning.”

Not wanting to be reminded again, he swat his paw at your nose as the feline hissed, “Shh! Just read already!”

Dear player,

I truly am deeply remorseful and I offer my sincerest apologies.

I was to be a knight, that has been something I have strived for ever since I was a child. A knight not just to serve Malleus but to protect others, and eventually I discovered my purpose was to serve you as well. But... all I did was stand idly by and watch the torment. Shortly after meeting your vessel, I had promised to shield you from all danger. I broke that promise.

I cannot imagine how frightened you must have been. Had just one person stop and thought things through, they may have realized the horrible mistake that was being made. Had I acted as soon as I felt the tug on my heart when I saw you weakened and on the dirt, I may have saved you from anymore pain.

Those eyes, your eyes, I see them in my sleep. You were scared, and through your gaze you were pleading for help, were you not? I see it every time I close my eyes. You witnessed it yourself, the very moment when I had failed you. You were right there, so close I could have extended a helping hand. But my grief rendered me sightless, all I could think of in that moment is how my heart ached and how I longed to see you again. Even if it was through your vessel. The rumors didn’t quite make any sense to me, as I wondered how could anyone possibly be so cruel as to tear you away from us?

Father had said that it would all be over soon. That capturing the imposter and bringing them to their knees, would make everything better. But when I saw you on the ground before we learned of your identity, I couldn’t help but wonder if this was alright. Would the player have wanted this? Would they have scorned upon witnessing the scene? Would this undoubtedly end the throbbing pain I felt in my heart? The pain was becoming unbearable, and I was not the only one to feel it. The news made little sense to me. Sebek insisted that it was true, and Father seemed to believe so as well. However, that is no excuse for how I went along as if it were okay.

You were innocent and helpless, you, the player, not only witnessed the scene but were the victim. I’m so sorry, I should have done something... If it were the only way to gain your forgiveness, I would spend every moment of my waking hours writing letters of apology. To do so I would keep myself awake for as long as humanely possible. If asked, I would use every moment to pen these letters, each different from the last. Although after several attempts in redoing this single letter, I realize that it would be a pointless endeavor.

After reflecting, the only way to make up for what I have do is be patient.

Be patient and await for word from you. I cannot force you, I cannot pressure you, I can only pause and prepare myself to do whatever I must in order to earn back your grace.

Please, do not keep me waiting too long. I know I have no right to ask you this. I’m willing to wait years if needed, but part of me has this fear that I will never regain a spot near your heart until I’m frail and feeble with age. Rest assured, even in old age, I would be willing to be your knight. Even if my bones ached, I would raise my sword and shield. If I couldn’t use my weakened legs, I would call upon a horse to be my steed. And if I were to become magicless, I would use the remainder of my physical strength to serve you.

If I may be honest with you? I have no idea what to do. Yes, I said I would wait, but what else can I do? What can I do to eventually secure a place beside you, if it were possible? In times of trouble I normally turn to Lilia and Malleus for advice, however, I am a bit unsettled by their approach to this delicate matter. Truthfully, I am anxious, but while they share the sentiment, they are oddly confident that things will turn out alright in the end. I am unsure how they can muster the self-assurance to quell their fears. Maybe they know something that I do not, and have decided not to share this secret for now...

Nevertheless, for now I’ll eagerly anticipate the day we can reunite just as I have dreamed. I greatly look forward to the second where not only I can see you smile once again and your eyes might finally look at me with content, but also the moment where all those I know might get the opportunity to be in your peaceful grace.

I’ve dragged this letter on for too long. If you were to take something away from this letter, let it be this: I will carry out your wishes. No matter what you may think of me, whether it be a positive or negative image in your mind, I will continue forward in your name. Even if you think me unfit for the title of knight, then consider me a humble servant instead. Nothing will shake my commitment, and I will do whatever it is you ask.

This is a pledge that will not be broken.

Cordially,

Silver

This letter felt a bit lighter than the others. Still, it was slightly intense in its own way, but it was nowhere near as extreme as the previous two were. And, maybe you had a better opinion on Silver, not because he was gentle with his words but because he was one of the very few who hadn’t threatened you, directly harmed you, or treated you cruelly.

But! He didn’t get a free pass just because of that. Yes, he may not have directly caused any harm, but he didn’t exactly help you either.

Grim had taken the letter from you, and inspected the paper in his paws. He held it above his head, scrunching up his nose a bit as he looked it over. “I dunno... he’s okay.”

At that, you roll your eyes a bit as a smirk crept up from the corner of your mouth. “You’re not just saying that because his letter came with a snack?”

“No! You think me easy to bribe? I think not! It would take a whole bucket full of berries just to get me to even discuss it. Then, I’d turn them down and take the berries anyways!” The feline proclaimed his brilliant plan should that situation ever arise. Maybe the gifts you allowed him to take were starting to get to his head. “But... he could be worse. Silver, as dumb as he was like everyone else, he did hear me out after they separated us.”

Silver did that? If that were true, it’s possible that he wasn’t as bad as the others who had wronged you.

“That’s... good to know.” You murmur as you pluck up another random envelope from the pile.

The last envelope you pick up before you planned to take a break was surprisingly plain. It was just that. A plain white envelope, sealed by green wax with what looked like a family crest that depicted a creature with fangs and scales. One of the corners was crinkled, as if it was gripped too tightly there.

As soon as you slid out the folded letter, you were bombarded by the ink. Whoever had wrote this, seemed like they applied too much force. This caused certain parts of some letters to be too round and heavy with ink that made those bits feel damp and stain your fingers the slightest bit. Like whoever wrote this, placed just as much pressure with their hands on the pen gliding across the page, as much pressure as they felt weighing on their mind.

Great Player,

As I pen this, I am on my hands and knees.

I have prepared a multitude of letters which I will send daily, so that now and in the future you will continue to hear my apology and know I truly mean it. One admission of regret is not enough. An apology is only an acknowledgment of an offense, it does not absolve one of their wrongdoings. I know this! So, I, Sebek Zigvolt, will atone by any means necessary!

To you, the player who I wronged and deserves nothing but happiness and perfection, I give my deepest sincerest profuse apology. I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m SORRY. Right now when I look at my hands that I use to write, I’m reminded of the vicious way I grabbed you like some... heathen! These hands sullied your flawless self, and for that alone I will never forgive myself!

Had it not been for the wise words of Master Lilia and the bothersome yet logical reasoning from Silver, I would have been at your door everyday, every hour, begging for a second chance. In the midst of brainstorming, I presented my idea of crawling on hands and knees, from Diasomnia to the Ramshackle Dorm, to deliver the letter myself. Then, I would display whatever cuts or bruises formed on my palms and knees which I would receive from the rocky roads or thorns, that way you may see my devotion was true and no lengths are too great when it comes to you! No matter the pain or burden! The idea seems to appeal to Lord Malleus, but I was told that it comes off as too extreme...

But! I beg to differ!! I only consider it so that you may understand what I feel, so that you might comprehend the things I would do for you, and receive me back in your good graces! Additionally, delivering the letter in this manner would cause me as much or more physical pain than I caused you! It is a shame that things have come to this. I had wished so much for our first proper meeting to be one of joy where you might accept me as your knight! In spite of that, I will not falter in shame! If I were to deliver the following letters in that method I had detailed earlier, I would wear the scars proudly! It would be physical proof of my faithfulness towards you!

I am sorry, and I will continue to say it. Perhaps, this may be presumptuous of me, but if you consider it, Diasomnia did not torment you nearly as long as any other insolent dorm had! And! We retainers accompanied Lord Malleus every day to check on the wellbeing of your vessel, and watch over it while investigating various possible approaches on how to revive Yuu. We diligently did this until the moment we encountered your true self!

I swear to you, no one shall harm you from this moment forth!

From now on, I’ll march forward and see to it that you are never hurt ever again! This is something I know that my fellow dormmates will tirelessly work toward as well.

Have you realized that we have been guarding you and the serenity of your dorm in the past days? Have you not thought it strange that none have come to needlessly pester you? Yes, that is all thanks to the efforts of those in Diasomnia! Even when you do not realize it, we are insuring your welfare and the tranquility you require to recover! Of course, as much as I desperately want to inform you of the details, I will not. It is best you don’t know.

Now, I must be honest with you. Originally, I had planned this letter to be much longer and have contents that would have been much different than what you are currently reading. I aimed to be honest in my feelings! But before I could sign off on the original draft, I realized that the others may be in the right. It is possible that our devotion, my devotion, may come off as disquieting if I were completely sincere. I’ve had to restrain myself on many occasions, reminding myself to at least appear collected and controlled. That is not as easy as it sounds!

How could it be, when the one I must suppress my emotions and actions for, is you? That’s as if asking to repress part of my very soul and heart! I absolutely detest hiding it!! But when I remember this is for you and your own comfort, it becomes bearable. I can only hope that soon, very soon, I might be able to unveil my true sentiments towards you! As intense and extreme as they may be!

It seems that I’m nearing the word limit that they imposed. Once again, I apologize. I’ll have to contemplate new ways to write ‘sorry.’ I wish I could write a million more words for you! But even a million words wouldn’t be anywhere near a satisfactory amount for me to detail how much I revere you! And it would take more than another million words for me to write a full apology, but even then I wouldn’t be satisfied! No single letter is adequate enough, so be prepared to receive the rest I have written!

I will make sure they are delivered posthaste!

Faithfully,

Sebek Zigvolt

Great... you’re back to being unnerved again.

There was something about them all being so weirdly obsessed, but in vary different ways. Malleus and Lilia puzzled you, they had you feeling the most uneasy by far. Maybe it had to do with the fact that they were both not human, they were arcane beings with enigmatic personalities and objectives that were incomprehensible to you.

Out of the four, Silver was the only one that was fully human like yourself, but even he was a bit of a mystery as he was raised by the fae. It was hard to be wary of him, which was probably because your distrust and fear of him wasn’t as intense as it was towards the others due to his good nature and lack of actions he took during the whole disaster.

As for Sebek, well, he was unnerving in his own right but it was nowhere near on the level that Malleus and Lilia were on. At the very least he wasn’t a complete mystery to you. It was easy to figure out his intentions, because he either said them or wore them on his sleeve.

Your mind was spinning as you looked over the four letters, filled with lines upon lines and more lines of pages. In that moment your breath quickened as you noticed the cloudy sky outside. For a brief second, you feared you would see that familiar flash of green lightning, taking you back to that dark day when you nearly died. It’s like you could feel Sebek’s hands tightly gripping the back of your skull that forced you against the earth, you saw Silver’s sorrowful gaze that spoke a thousand words you didn’t yet understand, you heard Lilia’s words hinting to a doomed fate of becoming some lifeless doll, and god, you couldn’t forget him even if you wanted to. Malleus. He was the worst of all. You felt his nails and fingers constricting around your neck and squeezing out all the air, you saw his haunting green eyes with those slit pupils as he glowered at you with such anger and hate, and you heard what you had thought would be the last words you ever heard come from his lips––

“Hey!”

You were torn out of those dark thoughts by the feline in your lap. A concerned frown tugged at Grim’s lips, but once he saw he had your attention, he mustered a slight grin as he held up what looked like an armful of snacks. At least, as much as he could carry in his small paws. From his grin, you could see his little fangs still covered in the remnants of the berries and flower petals.

“Look, I found your favorite! This is getting boring, so let’s just take a break!”

3K notes · View notes

iovesia · 1 year

Text

HIS BONNIE ON THE SIDE.

𝒔𝒚𝒏𝒐𝒑𝒔𝒊𝒔. being in a relationship with dark!john wick through the years.

warnings. toxic relationship. nsfw. corruption kink. emotional manipulation. canon typical violence. gaslighting. not proof read.

pairings. dark!john wick ⠀𝒙⠀fem!reader.

josie’s note .⁺ ˖ ⌒ i love doing these little hcs (and also i've had no inspo for full length fics unfortunately </3). anyways, this is for my all my toxic!john wick enjoyers — hope you enjoy ♡ !!

#. requests are open. ⠀masterlist.⠀keanu reeves masterlist.

𝐘𝐎𝐔𝐍𝐆𝐄𝐑.

dark!young!john wick is so much more impulsive, especially when it comes to you. even though he’s only in his twenties, his name is rapidly spreading throughout the crime world. john's known for his ruthlessness and ambition— and you get to be the first to fall victim to both, and live.

john is a bit of an adrenaline junkie— loves the thrill of the chase. whenever you try to escape from him, he’s hot on your tail. this game of cat and mouse only makes catching you so much more fun.

his jealousy is worse when he’s younger (although it never really gets better). having been raised in the ruska roma (a desolate home, completely void of love and feelings), he’s projecting all his emotional turmoil onto you.

again, john was taught to wield the sharpest blades, and wield the heaviest of guns— but feelings… heart to hearts? he’s almost emotionally inept.

"thought you were too tired to go out," his voice makes you jump as you nearly drop your keys from your hands. you turn around, noticing him hiding behind your entrance door, lurking.

"i-i just went for a walk," you stammer. john's footsteps echo in your tiny apartment when he comes closer. towering over you at 6'1, you gaze upwards at your lover.

"yeah, i know. i saw you.. and him."

he’s fuming watching you get cozy and comfortable around other people, even if it’s just platonic. john wishes you were like that around him, and not so guarded and fearful.

and heaven forbid one of your male friends tried anything— anything. you’re devastated to see their photo splashed on the morning news the next day.

he’s possessive as all hell. working in crime syndicates and doing hits for the mob heightens his paranoia of something happening to you, so whenever possible, he keeps you under constant surveillance.

you frequently get into fights about this. even if you bring up the subject nicely, he damn near freaks out.

“i just want some space. i'm not even sure you trust me at all!” your hands flop to your sides frustratedly, eyes fluttering with exhaustion at the tiresome loop of this conversation.

“i'm not going anywhere, ever. you can be sure of that.”

young!john is so quick to react, too quick. your arguments can get ugly very fast. seeing him so explosive and agitated with you in contrast to his usual charming and cool nature grounds you in reality— he's a cold blooded killer, and he could if he wanted to...

speaking of killing, because of his job, he randomly disappears for weeks or months at a time.

you miss him so badly, but it’s not like you could call him or talk to him in any way, so you spend many sleepless nights wondering what the hell he’s doing. if he’s even alive.

don't even try to break up with him, or ghost him. younger john is not above kidnapping you— and even worse, pretending like it's your fault. you've been a bad girl, and now you've forced his hand :(

dark john wick is a manhandler! i'm speaking my truth! he’s just so much bigger than you, and stronger than you, sometimes he doesn’t even realise the brute of his strength against you.

he grabs your arm when dragging you somewhere, throws you over his shoulder, or when he’s feeling particularly passionate, just presses his fingers into your cheeks and pulls you in for a rough kiss.

"it's you and me, till the end. i meant it, you know that right?" john asks softly, his forehead gently pressed against yours, his dark irises searching yours for any semblance of understanding. you slowly nod, and try not to cry when he locks his lips with yours.

⠀⠀⠀

𝐎𝐋𝐃𝐄𝐑.

dark!older!john wick is silent but deadly. having (somewhat) emotionally matured into his middle aged years, he’s more calculated, and logical when it comes to you.

less explosive and controlled by impulses, his ability to fill your innocent little heart with guilt is almost impressive.

“i’m sorry, john, please,” you wrap your arms around him from behind, your chest pressed against his back as you rest your chin on his shoulder . “i-i do trust you, i swear. how can i show you i do?”

while john’s face may well be presenting a hurt facade, he can’t ignore the growing bulge in his pants. your glassy doe eyes, quiet sniffles, and desperate need to want to be in his good graces again— who is he to pass up the opportunity?

even older, he is still so fiercely protective over you. he’s the infamous baba yaga, he’s not taking any chances. you’re damn near suffocated from how tight a leash he keeps you on.

when you keep resisting his “protection”— john is determined to make you see how much you need him. he’d probably hire someone to scare you a little bit, or even do it himself, just to have you driven back into his loving arms.

“i’m here, honey,” he whispers, wrapping his arms around you, enclosing you in his warm embrace as you sobbed into his chest. thankfully you miss the small eerie smile on his face. “i’ll always keep you safe.”

he has a little bit of a corruption kink. you're this sweet little thing, and john's ready to completely smear your rose-tinted view of life. while he doesn't give you all the gorey details, whatever he does tell you just adds onto the emotional manipulation that you need him. that you can't live without him (when it's practically the vice versa).

he's so unbelievably devoted to you. it's actually unhealthy, you're constantly on his mind. normally, he can keep underwraps how sickly in love he is with you— but during sex is when his darkest thoughts come out.

“i’ll kill them,” his lips against your ear, a hand gently holding your throat while the other is pressed against your button, vehemently rubbing circles.

he continues rutting into you, deliciously stretching your small cunt with his large cock. the tip gently kissing your cervix as you let out a strangled moan, completely overwhelmed with pleasure. “I’ll kill them all for you, every last one.”

he’s kind of condescending in a way that he thinks you need his help for every little thing. at first it makes you feel small, and stupid— hey, you may not be the world’s most feared assassin but surely you don’t need his help with walking to work in the morning!

he's always right (or at least he thinks). having been put on a pedestal by the crime world, it's no wonder john develops a slight superiority complex. john likes to let you "win" fights— but deep down, it's his way or no way.

*cough* he's a stalker *cough*.

either way, younger!john or older!john perceive you as the angel among his demons. the one thing in his life that could cleanse his soul— or taint yours.

﹙ ♡ ﹚─ taglist: @desoolate @sughcashsaiki @vezuiv @br-2408 @beansricejc @emosludge @nwheregirl . . !

let me know if anyone wishes to be added/removed. ∗ ୧ ‧ ₊ ˚

#dark.josie #keanu reeves x reader #keanu reeves imagine #john wick x reader #john wick imagine #john wick #john wick x you #dark john wick #yandere john wick #tw toxic relationship

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hwaightme · 6 months

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Timezone

(masterlist) (perma-taglist)

🎸 pairing: rockstar!fiance!seonghwa x gn!reader 🎸 genre: fluff, long distance angst, established long-term relationship 🎸 summary: "Only thing that keeps us apart // Is a different timezone" - TIMEZONE by Måneskin; during a long tour, the only thing seonghwa wants is to come home to you, and to hold you in his arms 🎸 wordcount: 3.2k total 🎸 warnings/tags: not edited, language, songfic, enamoured simping activated, seonghwa misses you intensely, he is one step away from swimming to you, seonghwa has tattoos and lip piercings, lyricist producer musician rock singer hwa good luck to us all, words of endearment/pet names (baby, angel... etc) 🎸 taglist: at the bottom of the hcs 🎸 a/n: this is for @starrysvn the most wonderful, beautiful soul. thank you for being who you are, ilysm. and may this small manifestation of our shared delulus bring some sunshine~

There was no salvation for a heart that was on the verge of breaking. No call could replace the sensation of a lover’s whisper, no video could replace the feeling of skin against skin nor of a warm and reassuring embrace. The myriad of details that made you who you were seemed to be slipping through Seonghwa’s fingers, and he was a desperate man drowning in quicksand of responsibility and routine.

Every chord was a strike of the coldest and sharpest blade on his tired body, and the sweat trickling down his face as he yelled his emotions to thousands masked the tears that were welling in his eyes. It was unbelievable, how in the faces of millions the only features he could ever make out were those that resembled yours. In every cheer he could only hear you, how you could make his name sound like magic. The lyrics – a simple selection of syllables, words, always fell short of describing how he felt, and every song appeared trivial compared to the fire in his heart, to your existence in his life.

Too many miles separated you, and he would be damned if he were to say that he was fine with it. This was the unbelievable curse of his work. An artist, a singer, a musical innovator who had evolved from being in a group of hoodlums with a dream to being in a star-studded collective, a band that was paving the way for many others and inspiring loyal and new fans to reach the stars with them. But where was his star? Even when surrounded by the speakers, side by side with his friends on those grand global stages, this question never left Seonghwa’s mind. Losing sight of what he truly desired, he ran into an oblivion.

After the concerts, it was customary for the young man to spend some time with his fans, still on an adrenaline rush and thus were expecting interaction, further connection, and insights into the most recent performance. However, tonight, he could not even begin to find the energy to press the right button. Claiming that he was feeling a little under the weather, Seonghwa delegated the role of publicity man to another member and hobbled to his hotel room, collapsing onto the bed sheets not caring for the state of his clothes, his hair, nor for the creases that were undoubtedly going to form. This was no issue.

The electric guitar, his trusted comrade in composition and emotional turmoil, was left in a black case on the floor. Stickers marking the cities he had visited decorated a portion of the surface, while the rest was another depiction of you. Scurrying off the bed, he erratically shot to the case and brought it up with him, letting it rest by his side so he could admire the artwork more closely. Over many days, you had decided to surprise him by painting the dark leather, echoing famous renaissance pieces and intricate flora. Impeccable, incorporating nods to his and your lives through symbolism, be it in the hint of a star ship, a guitar pick, or a paintbrush hidden in foliage, it was a reminder of a life that he always wanted to live and to keep close.

He wanted to destroy the walls of his room. He wanted to break the glass, fight the agony of the sorrowful monster eating away at his soul with physically radical action, anything to take his mind away from the fact that you were thousands of miles away, and that when he was cursed to be awake, you were in dreamland. He could not even protect you from the nightmares that you sometimes had. He could not keep you close. You were unable to run your hands through his inky black, long and tousled locks as a way to calm yourself. Why was he doomed to sacrifice the heavenly touches and sweet words in favour of roaming the globe like a madman, screaming the same things into a microphone until they lost all meaning? Seonghwa missed you. Violently. Painfully. Aggressively. If it took raising hell to elevate him to your heaven before he would ultimately crumble, he would choose to do so in a heartbeat.

His hands inadvertently travelled into the pocket of his flared jeans, fishing out the device which he had been glued to for the full duration of his tour. At any spare second. Lockscreen – your smiling face, surrounded by the scenery of his hometown when you two went for a visit over the holidays. Tapping in the date of your birthday, he came face to face with a photo where you two were together – a candid picture snapped by his closest friend and fellow band member during a celebratory dinner; you two laughing at a joke shared between yourselves, so in love that every part of you and him were intertwined. Seonghwa wanted to break himself apart. Take his heart and mind out and douse them in cold water so that at least for a moment he could have some space to breathe before ultimately repeating: you, you you again. Fingers flying to tap onto the messaging app you preferred to use most often, though the two of you had conversations going on almost every piece of social media, he scrolled through your chats, relistened to the voice messages and scrutinised every photo until it was re-imprinted in his brain. As if he could ever forget in the first place.

He would likely be a laughingstock, wouldn’t he? A man with the world at his feet, wanting nothing more than to collapse at the feet of another. Sure, his fans were no strangers to the fact that there was ‘a special someone’ in his life, though since he made sure to keep his private matters truly secure, no one knew who was the reason why he woke up even when the day was promising challenge and turmoil. The only sign of his undying devotion that he dared to expose with shameless pride was the tiny red band around his pinkie, a simple line alluding to the string of fate, of soulmates. One night, not too long ago even though it seemed that you knew each other for your entire lives, when you had the chance to spend time together without worrying about work matters and could let time trickle past while stargazing, he proposed. Perhaps it was not traditional, the four words uttered only in passing after you had already blessed him with your agreement. Instead Seonghwa had suggested the permanence of a tattoo as a symbol for your love, and revealed his faith and devotion. Written in the stars, he found his guidance in you. Just like the constellations, galaxies and mythical creatures permanently etched on his skin, he wanted to live the neverending story with you.

As he shifted his grip on the phone to glance at the red band, Seonghwa could not help but imagine what you could be doing right this second. Could you be stirring from sleep? Could you be getting ready for another day at work? How was that one personal project you picked up going? He hammered out letter after letter on driven by what had to be an external power, so much mightier than him. The rockstar bit his lower lip, feeling a tug on one of the piercings, but that made him simply bite down harder.

I’m losing my mind.

Without hesitation, he sent the message into the void, hoping that you would not be too worried and simply accept it as one of his eccentricities as an artist. Finally, he tugged off the leather jacket that had been clinging onto his body, suffocating him, and collapsed back onto the bed. Exhaustion was a beast weighing down on him and pushing him into the mattress. Nothing but a lonely carcass, Seonghwa imagined himself as carrion left for the devouring by devious promoters, producers, agents and the like. Freedom was an interesting concept in his industry. Did he have it? Or was it the case that as soon as he gave into a dream, he signed his very being away to be an offering for the money-hungry world? He was definitely going mad. He needed you. Seonghwa missed you. Feverish, anxious, he grabbed a fistful of the duvet with his free hand and counted the passing seconds, too many of them, but not as much as the distance between where he was supposed and wanted to be, and where he currently was.

A loud ringing jolted him out of his paralysing ruminations – his phone. He rolled his head to the side, and upon seeing the incoming video call could not be faster in wriggling to rest on the headboard and answer. So you were awake, and in a couple of seconds… there you were, hair in a loose side braid, a familiar vintage t-shirt adorning your shoulders. You were at the desk – your home office, cradling what had to be a cup of coffee. Black, no sugar, no cream. Nothing. Just how you liked it.

“Hi baby,” you greeted him with the warmth of a thousand suns, and soon enough, his smile returned to him too, though still a little weak, beaten down by the weeks spent apart. It was still dark where you were, while for him it was already dark. It was easy to face when with you, however – nothing could be brighter than you.

“You’re wearing my old clothes?” Seonghwa could not help but ask, too curious to refrain from the inquiry. You looked down at the shirt momentarily before lifting your head and nodding.

“Yep. There’s been a change of plans so I am working from home today. And… I wanted to have a day-long hug from my fiancé.”

“You always wear them better, and I wish it were me and not the tee, angel,” he sighed, eyes trailing down what part of you he could see. He might be wrong, but you appeared to be a little tired, dark circles more prominent under your gorgeous eyes, and movements a fraction more lethargic than how they would usually be in the mornings.

“Is that what you were losing your mind over?” you attempted to lighten the mood, but Seonghwa could not play along when the joke was a reality. You caught onto this quickly enough, and paused to look at him more closely.

Seonghwa could feel the intensity of your inspection. It was as though you were reading him like one of the many books you had collected. Basking in the attention from his lover, he leaned further back onto the pillows and let himself think out loud.

“We have another flight tomorrow.”

“Yeah, next is the third to last concert, right-”

“I want to fly to you,” the young artist cut you off, staring at nowhere in particular as he voiced his one wish.

“It’s not too long now, Hwa, and then we have a whole month to ourselves. No touring. Home.”

“I miss you.”

“I miss you too, love. But also, I am proud of you. You are bringing dream to reality-“

“Fuck what I’m dreaming. What does all of this mean anyways?” he retorted, making you raise an eyebrow before leaning onto the desk.

“All of this means that you are yourself. You are an artist. A light for so many souls. And if you cannot hear this, then let me remind you that I love you, the you who is so driven, so talented and so hardworking. Park Seonghwa who has been destined to become a star and give hope to millions. You are yourself, and that is what is so precious and iconic about you.”

You had a way with words. You always did. Stepping in when he was at his lowest and managing to drag him out of what he had assumed was an abyss, you were his biggest supporter, cheerleader, muse. When he was afraid to put pen to paper or deemed a melody worthless, you were the one to encourage him to experiment, try things out regardless, and with such strength that now it was a philosophy he abided by; it never hurt to try, and perfection was impossible. What was achievable, however, was satisfaction and happiness with the self. It was more than enough to try. And now, you were the one fearlessly bearing the catastrophic mass that was his worries with the last tour dates.

“Oh how dare you…” he mumbled, lips trembling ever so slightly as he pushed out the words. Involuntarily a mist settled over his eyes, and Seonghwa’s surroundings began to blur.

“No, baby come on, don’t cry, or we’ll be crying together. Let’s stay strong for each other, yeah? Like the dragon you have? Let’s leave the tears for later, and hopefully make the source of them a happy one,” you cooed, your own heart being torn apart as you witnessed your lover’s vulnerability, raw misery expressing itself as the hard exterior of a professional rockstar fell away. The hint at one of his many tattoos made Seonghwa’s mouth twitch into a tiny smile, an adoring gesture to remind your fiancé that you could draw each of the masterpieces from memory, having spent many nights tracing them with your digits.

“I-… Y/N I… I love you so much, you know that, right?” The confession turned query was choked, feeble, fragile, an offering made of the thinnest glass. One that you would protect with your life.

“Hwa, I love you too. So much…”

“Everything makes me think of you…” fatigue was evident, coating his vocal cords thick with a somnolent huskiness.

“Soon, you won’t have to remember me. You will have me in real time. Will you look forward to that for me?”

“Always.”

One topic, another, talking about nothing and everything at once. Trivial matters transformed into beautiful tales. In what had appeared to him to be no time at all, you had to rush into your first meeting of the day, while he was left a little less lonely in the hotel room continents away from you, with only his guitar and your reassuring love to keep him company. A hope, an excitement rekindled in his chest, bubbling up and flying across the bloodstreams into a tingling sensation in the fingertips, and a pleasant, hazy buzz in his brain. Caught between what had to be sleep and delirium, Seonghwa moved exclusively on instinct. In a few movements, he produced a tattered notebook and pen that had listened to his every confession and flipped it to an empty page before setting it down on the sheets.

Carefully, he took the guitar out of its case, and upon checking that it was properly tuned let a few notes hang in the air. The longer Seonghwa stared at the wall, the more confident he became in the fact that he could see you standing there in front of him, and as the words began to pour, it was you who he was confiding in. When with you, he was not afraid. When dedicating yet another song to you, he could not care less for the lack of rest, for how he greeted the dawn. He had a week until the last show, and he sure as hell was going to make full use of it.

The arena was silent aside from a few yells, before they too, succumbed to the suspense. The spotlights were almost blinding, and Seonghwa suddenly felt grateful for the fact that his image allowed for sunglasses. Elegantly perched on the bridge of his nose, they masked his anxiety as he adjusted his microphone, setting it back onto the stand while the rest of the band was exchanging glances and making the last checks before the grand finale, what he had decided would be the last ‘official’ song of the concert, and therefore the tour. Of course, the audience would ask for an encore. Of course, he would step right back out on stage to perform it – the act had already been planned in advance. But it was this song, one that he and his closest friends had spent night and day finalising, recording, even sending off to be made commercial, that would be his final word.

“Distance is measured in miles, and in how strongly you feel them. This is ‘Timezone’,” following the brief introduction, he momentarily shut his eyes and sucked in a shaky breath. In that split second, he did not exist. He was not on stage, he was home. Seonghwa could feel your hand on his shoulder and could float in your perfume. This was no different to how he would play for you in the living room – anything you wished for, he would either perform or learn on the spot or even create. So, maybe, just maybe, you will be able to hear him now, too. And how he was calling out for you, and was counting the seconds until he could see you again.

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is seven thousand miles, running like a mad dog

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

So fuck what I'm dreaming, this fame has no meaning

I'm coming home

Only thing that keeps us apart

Is a different timezone

A roar overtaking expressions of gratitude. With every bow the crowd grew wilder and wilder. Chants praising the song were unfathomably strong, and Seonghwa had no doubt that the videos would go viral. Would you see them? Would you message him after? He did not need the answers to these questions. Not when he almost dropped his guitar as he saw you standing backstage, arms open wide, a staff lanyard around your neck. He was thankful for how you did not mind his sweat-covered arms, his glistening forehead as he pressed himself against you. He was enamoured with how your lips fit perfectly together, piercings and all, as he planted one kiss after another, each one bringing him back to life. He was eternally devoted to every moment with you.

“I told you, soon, didn’t you?” He could not respond, instead choosing to nod lest he break down in the midst of his overwhelming elation, “same timezone…” you altered the lyrics – sunlight after a rainstorm.

“I’m home, Y/N,” he mumbled into your hair before pulling you even closer to him, arms wound tight around your body, fingers dancing on your back as though he was still in disbelief that you were here.

“Welcome home, my love,” he leaned into your hand that reached for his face, letting you cup it. With nothing to keep you two apart, Seonghwa let himself get lost in your eyes, the string of fate winding tighter and tighter until his, and your heart were both glistening in a healing gold, the hints of cracks sealed and more beautiful than ever, standing the test of time, of space, of dreams.

🎸 taglist: @acciocriativity @justhere4kpop @byuntrash101 @shakalakaboomboo @starillusion13 @hongthoven @uwuheeseungie @cheollipop @frankenstein852 @charreddonuts @miriamxsworld @mingigoo @michel-angelhoe @innsomniacshinestar @foxinnie8 @preciouswoozi @wooyoungjpg @nebulousbookshelf @wowie-hockey @hongjoongs-patience @jaehunnyy @kitten4sannie @maddkitt @lightinyreads @ren-junwrld @pyeonghongrie-main @marsstarxhwa @pocketjoong-reads @alyszaen @archivesummer @little-angel-k @yeooclock @yeonjunnie @asjkdk @lucky-cat-cafe @northerngalxy

enjoyed? please consider reblogging and leaving a comment. thank you, much love!

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tossedout · 8 months

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on being touched in the head, on "she's really weird", on knowing too much

frank bidart // edited wikipedia page for Jester's privilege // joan of arc, john everett millais // the sharpest lives, my chemical romance // x // from the book of time, mary oliver // x // back to life, mother mother

I feel some shame in not having as sophisticated or underground titles to pull from (many of these are sourced from Pinterest and later clawed at for their origin). Not to create excuses for my literary squalor, but I WILL be expanding my studies in the future.

#web weaving #poetry #lyrics #of course i'd do one on joan of arc shes literally me #words #mother mother #mcr #mary oliver #frank bidart #ill never be rhe same will i #i am burdened by the vastness of God and myself

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wylldebee · 5 months

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Song of Ice and Fire AU where the Starks have these prominent canine teeth that are as sharp as a direwolf's. Some say it's the magic within the Stark bloodline dating back to when the First Men and the Children of the Forest lived in peace. Others say it's a sign of their kinship with the direwolves that has carried over even when direwolves died out. There's even an old tale about the time a Stark warged into a direwolf and mated with a real one on a dare. Either way, the Starks have these sharp ass fangs that are dangerous and oddly alluring. Special teething toys have to been made to survive the little years. Rickard had the "normal" Stark fangs. Think Luke Evans but bigger. He almost bit a man's finger off for insulting him. His sons Brandon and Benjen inherited his fangs. Despite being a cousin one removed from the Stark line, Lyarra Stark had the biggest and sharpest fangs. She could tear into a steak or a man's throat easily. One flash of her fangs as she feasted on a bloody steak and Rickard was instantly smitten. Her son Eddard and daughter Lyanna inherited her fangs (though Ned's were smaller, easily hidden, which fit with his quiet image). Robb and Bran inheritated Rickard's fangs like their uncles Brandon and Benjen. Rickon has Rickard's size but Lyarra's sharpness. Jon's is like Ned's but bigger, somewhere in between Ned and Lyarra's sizes. Sansa and Arya take completely after their grandmother. Headcanons underneath the read more.

— Rickon bit everyone when he was teething. A literal ankle biter. Ned still has the scars. — When Lyanna was rescuing Howland Reed she also bit one of the squires. Howland can still perfectly remember the victorious bloody grin on her face, fangs tipped with blood. — Robb and Jon used to practice snarling at each other when they were small. — Catelyn is into it. Like...into it. First Brandon then Ned. She's weak for the moments where Ned smiles wide enough he accidentally flashes his fangs. In their chambers in private she'll cup both sides of his face and trace his fangs with her thumbs and then it leads to sexy times and thus the Stark kids were born. — The Stark kids taught their direwolves how to snarl. — Instead of Nymeria biting Joffrey it's Arya. Nymeria just distracted him with her arrival. No direwolves die, not when Arya's fangs and lips are coated with blood and Joffrey bares the marks. Renly has to be carried out, laughing so hard he's wheezing. — Sansa kept her fangs filed to be more like a proper southern lady. It was painful but worth it (in her eyes). Come her time in King's Landing, she lets them get long and sharp again. Margaery is instantly in love (and highly aroused). (No seriously Margaery is literally shimmering in arousal all day every day. All Sansa has to do is flash her fangs and Marg is soaked.)

#a song of ice and fire #asoiaf #valyrianscrolls #game of thrones #house stark #ned stark #Catelyn stark #sansa stark #arya stark #jon snow #robb stark #bran stark #rickon stark #brandon stark #benjen stark #lyanna stark #lyarra stark #rickard stark

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m1d-45 · 9 months

Note

hey! not sure if ur taking requests but would love it if u cld.....my mind has been stuck on this for a while

I almost didn't get wanderer on his banner and it broke my heart. From the second I first saw to the little emo boy in the archon quest I've wanted him on my team and was so excited when they announced his banner.... I even prefarmed for him ;-;

But I lost the 50/50 (got tighnari ;-;) and calculated that I'd have only 50 pulls before his banners gone.....I've never gotten a character before 70 pulls so I got really sad and decided on a whim to build heizou since I had the teams and artifacts ready and I even started having fun with him when randomly at 23 pity guess who I get!!!

So I've kinda been living in my own little daydream(delusion xD) that wanderer got jealous of me having fun with heizou and came home.... could I request a sagau drabble or hc or something similar to my insanity totally fine if you can't 🥰🥰🥰

near miss

word count: ~500

-> warnings: spoilers for wanderer lore, minor spoilers for heizou lore, author once again dances around wanderer’s name

-> gn reader (you/yours)

taglist: @samarill || @thenyxsky || @valeriele3 || @shizunxie || @boba-is-a-soup || @yuus3n || @esthelily || @turningfrogsgay || @cupandtea24 || @genshin-impacts-me || @chaoticfivesworld || @raaawwwr

< masterlist >

for being the creator, all knowing and all present, you were missed quite often.

your wanderer sat in his banner, looking down at your party as you travelled teyvat. he’d missed your first star shower on account of giving a lecture, and by the time he’d seen the star streaking toward the forest through the window, it had been too late. news of the forest ranger stealing what was his spread quickly, something akin to resentment burning in his chest.

but not this time. he was determined not to miss you again. your attention had been on him for so long; surely you didn’t think he’d just roll over now that you’d invested in someone else? no, he’d wait.. even if it hurt watching you.

shikanoin heizou. the sharpest detective in inazuma—or even teyvat, if you were particularly inclined to praise him. you’d given heizou what you had planned to give him, and he hated it. he was right here, he was listening, he didn’t have any more lectures for the week, so why did you have to insist on keeping your stars to yourself?

(it was his fault. if only he’d paid more attention, as you had so graciously given him…)

“maybe… i’ll get lucky?”

he snapped out of his mind, aware of your presence all at once. he could feel his heart in his fingers where he pressed at the boundaries, and he searched the sky around him despite knowing he’d never see you.

(luck. ‘lucky.’ he’d make his way to you if he had to crawl. what part of that was chance?)

his hat was already discarded in his inventory, so nothing would hinder him from following your star. all he had to do was wait for you… and hope you’d send them out at all.

you wouldn’t settle for heizou, would you? he knows you were enjoying yourself, but that didn’t mean you’d forget about him… right?

a beam of light split the silence, and he pushed at the edges of his banner to reach for them. but even reaching as far as he could, he barely brushed the edge of the star.

it was warm. even that glimpse of heaven set his heart beating a little quicker, purple mist lingering around his fingers.

again. he won’t miss it this time, he swears. don’t settle for a detective when you could have…

…him. would he be enough for you?

the skies split in two, another bright purple star beginning to fall. he reached, grabbing onto the handle of a polearm. with a sharp pull, he was set free from his banner, the silver spear flung elsewhere. hopefully you wouldn’t miss that.

if he’d thought the star from before was warm, then the fall back to the earth was burning hot. your light enveloped his entire being, stealing the air in his lungs. his surroundings were whipped away, replaced with a bright feeling only describable as divine.

still, he landed on his feet. with shaky hands he placed his hat back on his head, allowing himself a proud smile.

“welcome home, wanderer.”

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wakandas-vibranium · 9 months

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Double ‘Taine || Part One

Pairing: Fontaine x Black Fem!Reader

Warnings: canon typical violence, use of the n word, aave use etc.

Word count: 4.4k

A/N: This is going to be a fun lil series! Not sure how many chapters just yet, but I hope y’all enjoy the story. Please comment, like, and reblog! :)

It was a gorgeous Memphis night. The weather was perfect and your life was going pretty well. You didn't have too many complaints. The aroma of apples and pumpkin always wafted through the air of your apartment around this time of year. Mrs. Towner, who lives two units down the hall from you, was always the culprit. Her grandson lived with her and loved baked goods and Halloween. You couldn't blame him; Halloween was one of your favorite holidays too, and it was only four weeks away. It was simply something about the smell of pumpkin and the crunch of fallen leaves under your boots that made your heart warm and made you feel like everything was going to be okay.

You were currently in your luxury apartment, venturing back and forth between the kitchen and the dining room, setting the table for four. While you were busy setting up the apartment for your guests, your boyfriend, Fontaine, was out picking up dinner. You usually cooked, but Slick suggested earlier this week that he was craving Indian food, and you hadn't had it in a long time, so you ordered it and sent Fontaine to pick it up from the best spot downtown. Thursdays turned into dinner dates with Yo-Yo and Slick Charles.

You met Yo-Yo about four years ago. She strutted straight into your law firm, carrying the brightest smile and one of the sharpest minds you'd ever seen. You two hit it off right away. You supported her with everything she needed, and she is now a paralegal with your firm.

About six months in, she finally introduced you to her eccentric boyfriend, Slick Charles, who never failed to make you bust out laughing, and her other roommate, Fontaine, who you instantly took a fancy to. Your firm had become quite busy, and Yo-Yo stressed to you that Fontaine was going through a difficult time, so it took another half a year before the two of you started dating. Now you were in the best relationship you'd ever been in, and you couldn't be happier.

Sure, Fontaine kept a lot of things bottled up, and it was like pulling teeth to get him to talk about them, but you wouldn't trade him for anything. You loved that man.

Actually, you had the impression that all three of them were hiding some information from you. You didn't know much about their past because they didn't tell you much. They told you that they had moved to Memphis from the Glen and that they had no plans of returning home. That was pretty much it.

You had an inkling there was a lot more to the story, but you never pushed that button. If they wanted you to know, you would know.

As soon as you had the apartment set up to your liking, you poured yourself a glass of Stella Rosa's Moscato D’Asti and relaxed on the couch, waiting for your beloved to return.

The door knob was twisted twice before there was a heavy knock on the door. You hurriedly downed the rest of your wine and dashed over to the entrance, figuring Fontaine could use help opening the door since he had the food in his hands.

“Hey baby,” you greeted as you opened the door and saw that he didn’t have the food, but instead two large bags and a backpack. “Did you forget your keys?”

He didn't answer you; instead, he gave you a pointed look and strolled into the apartment. You scratched your forehead because you didn't know what the fuck was going on. You could've sworn he left 20 minutes ago with different clothes on….and why didn't he have the food?

He lingered in the living room, glancing around the apartment as if it were his first time seeing it. You shut the door and took timid steps toward him. Your eyes widened as you tried, but failed, not to gawk at him. When did he have time to change?

After what appeared to be him assessing the room, his gaze finally settled on you, and he looked you up and down.

“Why you lookin’ at me like that?”

You scoffed as you threw up your hands,“You were supposed to go get the food…”

“…Oh…” he said, tone revealing that he didn’t give a single fuck about dinner.

“Yeah, oh,” you rolled your eyes at him and he just shrugged his shoulders at you.

What the fuck was his problem?

He stood there with his back against the wall. In a defensive position. As if he knew shit was about to hit the fan. Bags still in his hands, and an orange backpack still on his back.

“Fontaine, is everything alright?” you asked, taking a cautious step towards him.

“Yeah.”

“Are you sure?”

He gave you another pointed look and you raised your hands.

“It’s just…you’re acting weird and you look pissed the fuck off right now, babe. Please tell me what’s going on?”

He uncrossed his arms and started to speak, but the jingle of keys and the opening of the front door stopped you both in your tracks.

In walked Fontaine with dinner in his hands.

WHAT IN THE ENTIRE FUCK?

Fontaine took one look at the both of you before slamming the door shut and fixing you with a chilling look.

“Baby, back away from him.”

“Man, I ain’t gon’ hurt her.” Fontaine number two huffed, rolling his eyes at Fontaine number one.

You took a cautious step back anyway. The tone of your boyfriend’s voice was more than enough to have you on edge.

Your boyfriend placed the food on the dining room table and shoved you behind him as he faced the other Fontaine.

Or at least that’s who he looked like…

Who was this guy? And why did he look just like your man? You thought you were seeing double.

The apartment was deafeningly silent. Those two didn't utter a single word as they sized each other up.

Those two may have been comfortable standing there in silence, but you weren't. You wanted to know just what in the fuck was going on.

“Umm,” you blurted, breaking the silence, “I thought you said your brother was dead? And that he was younger than you?”

You thought that maybe the other man was his twin or something. Obviously they had to be related.

“He is,” your boyfriend replied, taking his eyes off of the other man for a brief moment to glance back at you.

“Then who the fuck is this?” you pressed, gesturing wildly at the Fontaine lookalike.

“Nobody.”

“Nigga, I’m you,” Fontaine number two said.

“I ain’t tryna hear that.”

“Well, you gon’ hear it tonight, nigga.”

They went back and forth with each other, bickering for what felt like an eternity until you couldn't take it anymore.

“Fontaine!”

They both turned to look at you.

“Somebody better open they fuckin’ mouth right now and start explainin’ before I start swingin!!” you threatened.

While your boyfriend heaved a sigh of aggravation, the Fontaine lookalike smirked at you with a mischievous gleam in his eye.

“Where that nigga Slick at?” The lookalike asked, ignoring you.

“You came all the way to Memphis for Slick?” Fontaine questioned, tone heavy with irritation.

“That nigga knocked me out and duck taped me to a fuckin’ chair!”

What the fuck? Why would Slick do something like that?

“Yeah, for a reason.”

And your boyfriend knew about this shit all along? What else was he keeping from you?

“I got somethin’ for his ass!”

“Wait a minute—why would Slick tape you to a chair?” you asked the lookalike, taking a step closer to him.

“Ask yo boyfriend,” he quipped.

“I will, but first tell me who you are,” you demanded, staring him right in his face. His hair, his deep brown eyes, the golds in his mouth was all too familiar. This man was the spitting image of your boyfriend.

But how?

“I’m Fontaine,” he finally said, looking you in the eyes, silently daring you to disagree with him.

“That’s impossible,” you chuckled nervously as you backed away from him because clearly he was out of his mind, “There can’t be two Fontaines.”

“Baby,” your boyfriend sighed deeply, pinching the bridge of his nose, “He’s tellin’ the truth.”

“We’re both clones,” the lookalike admitted.

Your boyfriend's shoulders stiffened so much that you worried they'd become stuck.

You were about to accuse them both of fucking with you, but the pained look on their faces was enough to convince you that they were being serious.

You plopped down on the couch, head in your hands, trying to make sense of what was being said, but your chest felt tight and you couldn't quite catch your breath.

So…clones were real.

Your boyfriend was a clone and your boyfriend also had a clone.

So there were two Fontaines.

Were there more than two Fontaines?

Who did this to them?

With each passing second, a new question flooded your thoughts.

What happened to the original Fontaine?

Who else was the government cloning?

What other states and cities were they operating from?

Was Fontaine safe?

Were you safe?

Shit really hit the fan once Yo-Yo and Slick arrived.

You had to confiscate Fontaine number two's gun after he pulled it out on Slick twice. Then you had to hold him back because he charged the retired pimp with such ferocity. Your boyfriend definitely had his temperamental ways, but this Fontaine was a bit more volatile.

Thankfully, Yo-Yo was there because Fontaine number one and Slick Charles were useless. They didn’t even try to help diffuse the situation.

After a half-hour of squabbling, everyone calmed down and sat down to eat dinner.

“So, y’all niggas couldn’t have included me on the plan?” Fontaine number two asked the others at the table.

You sat between both Fontaines, gulping your wine as you willed yourself not to freak out anymore than necessary. Yo-Yo and Slick Charles sat across from you.

“Hell no! We ain’t have time to break it down for your hotheaded ass,” Slick Charles said.

Fontaine number two shot Slick Charles with such a hard glare that you worried you'd have to hold him back again.

“Uh, I’mma just eat my samosa before Fontaine number two beats my mothafuckin’ ass,” Slick Charles grumbled before shoving his mouth with more food.

You nodded, “I think that’s a good idea, Slick.”

“How’d you find us anyway?” Yo-Yo asked.

“Biddy.”

“Biddy?!” The three of them murmured.

You couldn’t do anything but eat your food and drink your wine as you watched the four of them converse. You felt like a stranger in your own fucking home.

“I gave that pink bitch a hundred bucks and she told me y’all moved to Memphis.”

You didn’t even bother to ask who Biddy was because you knew you wouldn’t get a straight answer. The rest of the evening went pretty much like that. As the four of them caught up, you tried to make sense of the information at your disposal. You eventually tuned them out because you were becoming irritated.

After a while, Fontaine number two asked where the bathroom was, and you got up to show him the way.

Surprisingly, he thanked you before closing the bathroom door, and you retreated to the kitchen, searching for more wine. You needed more booze to deal with this fucked-up situation, and unfortunately, the wine you already had just wasn't cutting it. You scoured the refrigerator and cabinets but came up empty.

With a heavy sigh, you leaned against the kitchen island and went over the events of the last hour or so. You still found it difficult to comprehend the gobsmacking fact that the love of your life was a clone.

It all made sense now why your boyfriend was so guarded. Look at all the shit he’s been through. Still, you couldn't help but feel a heavy pang of hurt because the three of them kept this from you. They were the closest people to you. You've grown to love them so much, and they couldn't even bring you into the loop.

You strolled back into the dining room and observed the three of them crowded together, talking in hushed voices.

Slick Charles spotted you approaching and motioned for the other two to stop chatting.

“And just what are y’all over there whisperin’ about?” you asked, raising a curious eyebrow.

“Nothing.”

“Nothing important, baby.”

“Just discussin’ the weather.”

The three of them lied through their teeth and went back to eating as if they just weren't having a private conversation. It took all your might not to lash out at them in frustration. At the very least, Yo-Yo looked guilty. You knew she wanted to tell you more, but her loyalty to Fontaine surpassed her loyalty to you.

“Right,” you scoffed at them as you grabbed your purse off the counter. “I’ll be back.”

“Where you goin’, Y/N?” your boyfriend asked as he stood up.

“To the liquor store,” you said through gritted teeth.

“Mind if I slide with you?” Fontaine number two asked as he ambled down the hallway.

“No, I don’t mind.”

“Nah,” Fontaine number one shook his head. “I don’t think that’s a good idea.”

“Well, I’m goin’ anyway, nigga.” Fontaine number two retorted as he stood next to you.

You shot your partner a sidelong glance before turning around and heading outside. Fontaine number two was right behind you.

“Y/N,” Slick Charles called after you. “Bring me back some vodka and orange juice please!”

Fontaine number two slammed the door shut before you had a chance to respond, and you fought back a chuckle. That dude was obsessed with orange juice.

Together with your boyfriend's carbon copy, you made your way silently to the parking garage.

“Oh shit,” he exclaimed as he watched you open the car door to your silver Genesis. “You drive a G90?!”

“Yes,” you chuckled as he gawked at your car, his brown eyes briefly flashing with childlike admiration. Just like your Fontaine when he first saw it. The man truly did love his cars. It only made sense that his doppelgänger would too.

“This is a nice ass ride,” he complimented, caressing the car door with his fingers as he walked around the vehicle.

“You wanna drive?”

“You for real?”

“Yeah, the other you drives it all the time.”

You tossed him the keys before walking over to the passenger side and hopping in.

He excitedly clambered into the car, gently closing the door, before cranking up and taking the opportunity to look around.

After marveling at and feeling the smooth cream interior for several seconds, his gaze ultimately settled on you.

You paid close attention to his features. He may have been a clone, but now that you were actually looking at him, you could tell he wasn't your boyfriend.

Your Fontaine always looked at you as if he knew you inside and out, which he did, but this Fontaine solely looked at you as if he wanted to have a chance to get to know you that well. Everything else about the two was remarkably identical. This was a peculiar yet intriguing situation.

You were going to ask him what he was staring at when he blurted, “Y’all fucked in here yet?”

“Fontaine!” you gasped, whacking his arm in admonishment.

You couldn't believe he would ask you something like that, but then again, your Fontaine wasn't one to shy away from asking questions. No matter how invasive they were.

“What? I know me, aight? Ain’t no way in hell I’d pass up fuckin’ my fine ass girlfriend in this sweet ass car.”

The compliment was not lost on you, but you chose not to react to it.

You remained silent, blinking at him in disbelief, until he raised his eyebrows impatiently, still waiting for you to answer.

“Yes, nigga,” you muttered, “we’ve fucked in here before.”

“How many times?”

“Why do you care?”

He said nothing, just stared at you with an amused expression.

“Four times, damn! Can we go now?”

For a split second, his eyes darkened with a burning desire. He didn't say anything, but it was clear he wanted to be the one to partake in a fifth time.

Under his piercing gaze, you squirmed in your seat. You knew that was a thought you wouldn’t be able to come back from, so you cleared your throat and turned to stare out the window.

You heard him let out a puff of amusement before he put the car in reverse and backed out of the parking spot.

“What type of shit you do for work?” he asked once y’all were out on the open road and out of the parking garage.

“I’m a lawyer,” you said proudly before pointing to the upcoming street. “Make a left at the next light.”

“What kind of lawyer?” he questioned as he turned left.

“Corporate.”

“Mmm, smart and pretty.”

And that's pretty much how the trip to and from the liquor store went. You two getting to know each other. Surprisingly, the lookalike was easy to talk to. He reminded you too much of your man. You were going to start getting whiplash. You didn't ask him about his life back in the Glen. You wanted your boyfriend to trust you with that information.

You both walked back into the apartment carrying bags of booze. Fontaine number one, Yo-Yo, and Slick Charles were still conversing at the dinner table.

As a peace offering, Fontaine number two handed Slick Charles his vodka and orange juice. At least he was trying, you thought.

You five settled on the couch with your drinks and watched the first two Bad Boys flicks. Yo-Yo fell asleep against Slick Charles halfway through the second film.

You were once again seated between your boyfriend and his duplicate. Your feet eventually wound across your man's lap, and he rubbed soothing circles into your ankles.

After twenty minutes, Yo-Yo began to snore, so Slick decided to call it a night, waking her up and helping her to her feet. They were really sweet to each other when they wanted to be.

"Baby, I'mma walk them out," your boyfriend stated as he pecked your lips before strolling to the front door. "I'll be right back," he called over his shoulder before shutting the door, leaving you alone with Fontaine number two.

Your brow furrowed in confusion. He never walked them all the way out. Then it dawned on you that he wanted to have another private conversation with them when you were not around.

You slumped on the couch, tucking your foot beneath you as you grumbled in frustration.

“Aye, you good?” Fontaine asked as he took his eyes off the tv screen to glance over at you.

“I’m good,” you lied as you turned to look at him. “You ready for bed?”

“You gon’ let me sleep here?” he asked, surprise clear in his voice.

“Well, duh Fontaine,” you huffed. “Unless you got some other friends in Memphis that I don’t know about?”

What did he think? That you were going to toss his ass out with nowhere to go?

“I don’t think yo boyfriend gon’ be cool with that.”

“I don’t give a fuck what the other you has to say at the moment,” you sneered, “do you want to stay here or not?”

“Yeah, I do.”

“Then it’s settled,” you dismissed..

“Can we finish the movie first? This one is my favorite,” he nodded towards the tv.

“Sure.”

Fontaine wandered back into the apartment about fifteen minutes later, scoffing at the two of you laughing on the couch.

“And where is this nigga stayin’, Y/N?” he blurted, attitude rancid as fuck.

“Here with us,” you said brightly, stating the obvious. The credits began to roll so you grabbed the remote to turn off the tv.

“Oh, hell nah,” he complained as he rolled his eyes at the both of you. “Why he gotta stay here with us?”

“Where else is he supposed to stay? With Slick and Yo-Yo?” You folded your arms against your chest, kissing your teeth in annoyance. Fontaine number one and Fontaine number two were going to have to get along sooner or later. This hostility shit between them wasn’t going to fly.

“He can stay at—“

“—Just let him stay, baby,” you interrupted, throwing up your hands as you stood up from the couch.

What was the goddamn problem? It made sense that everybody should stick together. Maybe only to you.

“Aight, fine,” he grunted, stomping off into the kitchen.

“Dramatic ass nigga,” Fontaine number two mumbled under his breath as he stood up too.

You shook your head at him in amusement, fighting back a giggle. This situation was so bizarre that you had to take it lightly or else you'd lose your fucking mind. He shrugged at you and scooped up his bags. You motioned for him to follow you into the guest room down the hall.

You helped him with unpacking and began hanging his clothes in the closet. You chuckled to yourself since his wardrobe was identical to your Fontaine's. The two men were obviously quite the same, but there were one or two physical variances that you chose to keep to yourself.

“Why you bein’ so nice to me?” he blurted, taking a small step towards you.

“Why wouldn’t I be?” you replied, eyes narrowing as you leaned back against one of the closet doors.

He took another step towards you, pausing to look you up and down before fixing his gaze on your face.

“I ain’t him, you know?”

But you kind of are, you thought.

“You think I’m only bein’ nice to you because you share the same face as my boyfriend?”

“Yeah, pretty much,” he admitted, shrugging his shoulders.

You sighed deeply and looked out the window, gaze focusing on the shining full moon. "I'm bein’ nice to you because you're a human being who's been through a lot of unfair shit." You turned your attention back to him, eyes locking with his. "I think a little kindness is the least you deserve, don't you?"

He didn't respond, taken aback by your kind words, and after several seconds of stillness, he nodded his head so slowly you'd have missed it if you hadn't already been staring at him.

Of course, this Fontaine had trust issues as well. You couldn’t really blame him. He was keeping it together much better than you would have been in his shoes.

“Alright,” you sighed, taking one last look around the room before smiling softly at him, “anything else you need before I go to bed?”

“Yeah,” he nodded as he plopped down on the bed, “can I get my gun back?”

Hmm, you thought. You didn’t see why not. Slick Charles was gone and the situation seemed diffused for the time being.

As you approached him, you carefully removed the weapon from your waistband, holding it in your palm.

You held out your hand to him, and he reached out to take it, but you pulled it closer to your chest and said, “As long as you promise to keep it away unless our lives are in danger.”

“Aight.” he agreed, reaching for the gun again, but you tightened your grip on the steel.

“I’m serious, Fontaine.”

He rose slowly, towering over you while peering down into your eyes. You took a much-needed step back since you could hear every breath he took and smell the sweet tang of his cologne.

The corners of his mouth turned up in a sly smirk as you took a step back from him. He cleared his throat and gave you a look, indicating that he was being serious.

“I promise,” he whispered, reaching for the firearm for a third time and this time you let him take it.

After ensuring that Fontaine number two was settled in, you closed his bedroom door and shuffled around the apartment, switching off all the lights and checking that the entrance and windows were locked.

You entered the bedroom you shared with your boyfriend and gently closed the door behind you. Fontaine was already in bed, pretending to be sleeping.

“So, what? You gonna pretend like today ain’t happen?” you asked, folding your arms over your chest in annoyance.

“Y/N,” Fontaine groaned, pulling a pillow over his head to drown out your voice.

“Don’t ‘Y/N’ me, ‘Taine! We have to discuss this,” you walked over to your dresser and began to undress, pulling a drawer open to grab a set of pajamas.

“I ain’t in the mood to talk about this shit, aight?”

“Were you ever goin’ to tell me about all this wild shit that happened to you?”

He tightened his grip on the pillow, pressing it down even further over his head, ignoring you.

You tossed your clothes in the hamper and finished buttoning your pajama blouse before marching over to the bed, flipping back the covers, and snatching the pillow off his head.

“Fontaine!”

“What?!” he fumed, sitting up as he glared at you wildly.

“You can’t ignore this! Not this time. Why didn’t you tell me this happened to you?”

“What was a nigga supposed to say?! Hey baby by the way I was made in a fuckin’ tube,” he scoffed then shook his head.

“Wait, so you think me findin’ out about you bein’ a clone would make me love you any less?” you asked, your frustration dissipating as you noticed the petrified look in his deep brown eyes.

“You don’t get it…”

“Then explain it to me,” you urged.

“Nah. I’m goin’ to sleep,” he said, turning his back to you and settling under the covers.

You weren't sure how much more of this you could take. You were used to Fontaine shutting down amid difficult conversations, which you understood to some degree, but it was becoming painfully obvious to you that he didn't trust you at all. Most likely, he never did. It's unfair to you because you've never given him a reason not to trust you.

What’s a relationship without trust?

You switched off the lamp on your bedside table, let out a deep breath, and slid beneath the covers. It took some time, but Fontaine's soft snores eventually lulled you to sleep.

#ugh these are so fun to write!!#they cloned tyrone fanfiction #they cloned tyrone fic #they cloned tyrone fanfic #they cloned tyrone #fontaine #fontaine x reader #fontaine x black reader #black reader insert #black writer #my fics #tct mf

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partycatty · 5 months

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bi-han > returning without him

reader is the wife of bi-han but is crushed to find out he sided with shang tsung

notes: womp womp

masterlist <3

•being the long-time wife of bi-han

•kissing him goodbye before he heads out with his brothers on a mission to gain intel on the construction of the soul beacons

•you're a ninja of the lin kuei as well, a more than capable fighter on your own. with no elemental powers but all the strength you'd need. liu kang just did not ask for your aid this time around for reasons unknown.

•tending to your own homely duties as well as being the temporary grandmaster for the lin kuei in your husband's absence though you don't need to do too much as he's already trained them to near perfection.

•so incredibly excited for his return, sure to make your living quarters even more perfect than it was before he left. you find yourself smoothing the sheets down each time you pass by.

•the ninjas utter excitement as well, hoping that quan chi and shang tsung's toying with souls ends soon and things may return to peace.

•but then the portal opens, and you only see your brother-in-laws, one of which bearing a new, thick scar down his face. they look solemn. you know immediately.

•to betray his clan is one thing, but to betray his spouse and brothers... how could he be so evil, when he was the symbol for protection? perhaps, he only sought to protect himself. perhaps you... weren't enough for him, and the thought tears your chest open.

•scream-sobbing in tomas's arms as kuai liang rubs a hand around your back, neither one of them saying much because they're fighting back devastation of their own.

•they partially hold themselves responsible for not being able to stop bi-han from siding with evil, but they also know deep down he was a corrupted leader with malicious intentions, which you turned a blind eye to in hopes that he'd become a better man.

•you sit by the pond with the brothers, staring blankly into the still water. you ask, hoarsely, if he showed any signs of hesitation. you take their silence as a no, which makes your sobs burn your chest.

•you channel this disappointment into anger, and anger into hatred as your punches become harder and kicks swifter. the lin kuei disbands and reforms into the shirai ryu, and the brothers offer you a spot at the top alongside them.

•your life becomes completely engulfed in taking down your husband and those who wish to spread evil. you're hardened. some of the ninjas even say you've become as cold as sub-zero. you would've been proud of this before, but now it feels like the deepest, sharpest insult.

#mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat #bi han #sub zero #bi han x reader #owie oof ouch this one kinda hurt #sub zero x reader

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dduane · 6 months

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WIP Wednesday: "Why The Wren is Queen of Birds"

From the upcoming Tales of the Five #3: The Librarian: a fairy tale* of southern Arlen.

***

In the south of our land, in the mountain-wall’s shadow near Dhiil, they tell this tale of the ancient days after the Great Dark was downthrown and destroyed at last.

In that time the Goddess first began to send humankind royal rulers to mediate between the folk of those first realms and the land on which they depended for their lives. And in those days the birds of the world came together in a great parliament and decided they too should have a King or Queen. "For we’re a far older people than the humans are," said some among the birds, "and far more numerous and varied in our kinds. So by rights we ought to have a ruler over us such as the Mistress of the World has given these new young creatures, to show forth our age in the world and our importance in it."

And no sooner had this been agreed than the birds began to squabble over who should be their new King or Queen.

"It should be the strongest of birds," said the great mountain vulture. "It should be the most beautiful of birds," said the rainbow-feathered lyretail. "It should be the bird that sings best, the sweetest-voiced," said the melodious nightingale. "It should be the sharpest-eyed of birds," said the passager-falcon.

A long time the quarrel went on, but no decision could be reached. Finally a hedge-sparrow said, "The owl is said to be wise, and has not spoken. Let us ask the owl." And that seemed a good enough idea that the birds went straight to the great crested owl, who sat in a tree hard by where the parliament had been taking place, dozing the day away.

The birds woke the owl and said, "Wise one, how shall we choose what bird among us shall be our Queen or King?"

And the owl looked south and north, and west and east, and over its own shoulder, seeking the answer. Finally it said, "The deepest truth of being a bird is that one flies. Therefore let the Monarch of Birds be the one who flies the highest."

And this advice seemed good to all the birds gathered there in parliament. So it was agreed and then sung and cried far and wide for every bird to hear, both great and small; from the great dragon-eagle to the tiny wren.

The wren in her holly-bush, when she heard this news, smiled to herself. "There are more truths to being a bird than flight," she said, "and more kinds of wisdom than are owned by owls. I have an idea which bird may yet fly highest!"

So the day came when all the birds of the world assembled, and all flew to see which one might fly the highest. Up and up they went in great waves of flight, so that the sky grew dark with them, and in their dwellings humans looked up in alarm, saying "What devilry is the Shadow planning now?" For the Dark was only a few lives of mankind gone, and humans’ fear of Its malice was greater than their wisdom.

However, the birds cared nothing for the fears of human beings, and only strove to see who would rise highest. The birds of field and hedge dropped away first, and then the birds of the treetops and the tall forests. A while longer the birds of the upper sky rose up together, the hawks and eagles and the mightiest seabirds. But one by one they all fell back and could fly no more through air that was too thin and cold for them; and at last the only one who remained was the greatest of eagles, a Darthene dragon-eagle, grey-pinioned and golden-eyed with a spiky crown of feathers.**

And that dragon-eagle beat his way up and up until it seemed the blue of the sky was starting to go darker and the horizon might to a keen eye be starting to show the shadow of a curve, and even for a bird who was so often neighbor to the great heights, breathing had become hard. And looking around and seeing no other bird had kept pace, the dragon-eagle cried out in triumph and folded his wings to fall back toward the world and his waiting kingship. But as his wings folded down, a tiny grey shape started up from between them and flew, and kept flying upwards. It was the wren, who had hidden herself among the dragon-eagle’s feathers, and now flew higher than he—a tall tree’s worth of higher; two trees’ worth; five.

The dragon-eagle was nigh spent, and could not follow her. He let himself fall back to earth until he knew there would be enough air under his wings for them to bite into. Then he made his way swiftly to the place that had been set aside for the crowning of the ruler of birds. But not too far behind him came the wren, falling as fast as he into the upper airs, and finally to the grove and glade where the representatives of the bird-parliament awaited the winner.

Great was their confusion when the wren came down to perch on a tree-branch in the center of the glade and cry, "I am your ruler, for I flew the highest!" And down in his turn came the dragon-eagle, full of wrath, though he kept his dignity about him. "She flew higher than I," he said. "That much is true. But I flew all the way on my own wings from a treetop perch right up into the great heights where the sky grows dark and the air grows thin. And all that long way the wren hid amidst the down of my back, so that I carried both myself and her all that way. The feat of the highest flight is therefore far more mine than hers, and I am your king by right!"

And hearing these two claims, the birds in parliament began to squabble and argue the merits of each side, until the whole place sounded like a great noisy rookery at sunset. Yet they could find neither answer nor decision; so at last they turned to the Goddess.

As always, where many call upon Her together, there She is, whether She be seen or no. And here, since there was need, swiftly She was seen. To them She looked of course like a bird, mighty and radiant: and all bowed in awe before Her. But the awe lasted only a short while, and in little time the birds began to quarrel before Her over the issue they had begged Her to resolve.

Quite soon, "Peace, my dears, have pity! You’ll deafen me with your noise," the Goddess said, when the commotion had swollen to the point where even a deity might not hear Herself think. "Set out your case, now, so that I may judge."

So they laid it all out before Her, glossing nothing over and leaving nothing out. Then all waited in breathless stillness for Her verdict.

Due consideration She gave their issue; and then spoke and said, "The agreement you all made was that the bird who flew highest should be set as ruler above you. No one said that the bird who flew highest must also fly all the way."

"But that should have been understood!" the dragon-eagle cried in his wrath.

"It may often seem after the fact that many things should have been understood from the start," the Goddess said. "But that is not how it goes. When a game is to be rightly played, all the rules must be agreed first. When the game is begun, and won, it must be judged by what rules were decided before it began: not ones thought of after it’s done." And She looked sorrowful. "I was first to learn that rule. Now, it seems, comes your turn."

And She rose up in Her majesty before them and said, "By the rules of the contest you set for yourselves, the Wren is now your ruler." And as the Wren bowed down before Her, the Goddess reached out a pinion and with one primary-feather brushed the top of the wren’s head, which to this day bears the little gold mark She put there—the sign of its new-made royalty, and the Kingdoms’ first crown.

“Here then behold your Queen,’ said the Goddess to the parliament assembled. And some birds bowed to their new-made ruler, and some did not, grumbling among themselves and glaring at the Wren—as they dared not glare at the Goddess, preferring to think of Her as blameless, and as one who had been befooled, even as the Shadow had befooled Her when the world first began.

And soon enough the Wren began to issue commands to her subjects, telling the ravens, "Your harsh voices were better not lifted in song," and saying to the nightingales, "Your voices are fair but you should be still after dark so that others can sleep," and to the sparrowhawks, "You must cease your preying on small birds and confine yourselves to rats and conies and other such vermin." In short, she put forth many edicts that either seemed to favor her own tribe of birds, or were made to show that she by her fledgling royalty might command what she liked whether there was much sense in it or not.

It was not long before the birds began to chafe at this. And one day the Wren saw a carrion-crow swoop down on a pond, where it snapped up a duckling and swallowed it whole; and the Wren became wroth and cried out, "I pronounce you cast out from among your kind for devouring the living instead of the dead!" And no sooner had the scaldcrow gobbled the duckling down than he stared at the Wren on the willow-branch where she sat, and cawed, "Pronounce what you like, cheating little hedge-peeper; you have no power to make me pay you any mind!"

“I am your Queen, made so by the Goddess, and you must obey me!" the Wren shouted in a fury. But the carrion-crow laughed at her and said, "The only thing I need obey is my stomach, which says you will make a good end to my nunch!" And he flew at the Wren, so that only hardly did she escape from him by diving into a hole in a nearby hedge-bank.

Soon word got about that the Wren had no power to enforce her decrees, and that they only had force when the will of those she commanded allowed it. And quickly she found herself being mocked or ignored, and sometimes attacked and pursued by other birds who hated her and tried to kill her. Some of these said "What fools thought a ruler over us would be a good idea? Let’s have no more of this nonsense, but be free!", and others, "Once this monarch is gone, who knows, the next one may be better."

In no long time the Wren wearied of this strife. At last she took her grievance to the Goddess. "Great Mistress and Queen of the World," the Wren cried to Her, "the birds will not acknowledge me to be their ruler! They hate me because I was cleverer than they."

“It is a hard thing to learn," said the Goddess, “that sometimes cleverness is not enough… or too much.” And She looked sorrowful. “I grieve that you have had to learn it so.”

“All this could be put right,” said the Wren, “if only You would simply give me the power to make them do what I command.”

“That would be a change to the agreement that, unchanged, made you Queen in the first place,” the Goddess said. “My sorrow that your change cannot be made so after the fact any more than the Dragon-eagle’s could be. You’ve built yourself this nest, dear one. Now you must lodge in it and hatch out what chicks you can.” And She vanished away.

And so it is that the Wren is yet held to be Queen of Birds, for though she was never deposed, no other bird was afterward ever found wise (or foolish) enough to hold the office, not even the owl. The only court the Wren Queen holds is hidden away in holes and hedges, to avoid her enemies’ sight, and there she raises her chicks on worms and bugs in a nest no bigger than a child’s goblet. Her only state is the flash of gold on her crest, and in all other ways she goes as quietly as she may—in all ways the smallest and plainest of all birds. Whether she ever came to understand that royalty rightly exercised needs far more than mere cleverness, and needs the heart at as much as the mind, if not more, no one can say. For in this making of the world, even the Goddess who made all things has no power to make even the smallest creature wise against its will. In Her next making, may all things run more smoothly!

So they tell the tale in the high South; and in the low North, where folly resides, who knows what tale they tell? But now this one is done.

*Using the class-name here as the closest match to this kind of story in the Kingdoms, which lacks beings corresponding to fairies.

**On our Earth, Harpia harpyja, the harpy eagle.

#WIP Wednesday #Middle Kingdoms meta #Tales of the Five Book 3: The Librarian

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