#also i saw one person say that someone would die alone for not liking a character design 💀 | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

abyssruler · 1 year

Text

plausible deniability

scaramouche x gn!reader

your boyfriend is nice, your boyfriend is sweet, but your boyfriend is also a serial killer. “relax, it’s just a dead body,” he tells you like he hadn’t just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull. well, at least he did it to defend you? or — scaramouche kills people and you have the world’s biggest ‘i can fix him’ complex. (modern au)

crack, comedy, a few people die but who cares, scara is soft for one person and one person only and that’s you, “i would kill for you, in fact, i have killed for you.” “honey, did you take your meds today?” - scara and reader

You were never a fan of true crime documentaries, or horror movies, or gory shows, or anything that involved excessive blood spraying and lightless eyes staring into the camera.

So, it would stand to reason that at the first sign of your boyfriend being more than into those kinds of things, you would’ve turned tail and ran as far away as you can, right?

Unfortunately, you’ve always been blind to the color red.

…Figurative red, that is, because the red seeping through your couch and the ones coated on your boyfriend’s hands are definitely visible to you, bright and dripping and most definitely staining your pristine white rugs that you just bought last week. Ah, how are you going to explain that to the laundry lady?

“Scara, honey, what did I say about killing other people?” you ask, voice visibly strained.

He sneers at the face of the dead guy sitting haphazardly on your couch. “I didn’t like the way he was looking at you.”

You sigh.

✧

It wasn’t always like this, with the whole blood viscera happy-murder thing.

Your boyfriend, Scaramouche, had this odd habit of being so immersed in the news, a little smile lighting up his face (which you’d thought was cute at the time and, well, you still do) whenever the reporter gets to the local murders that used to have you shaking in fear on your bed.

He was charming though. A little possessive, but that was a trait you also thought was quite endearing—and, if you’re being honest, you still do. Scaramouche had a vast collection of sharp knives, some small and practically harmless (or as harmless as a knife can be) and others… not so harmless. You didn’t question it because he often cooked for you, your brain chalking it up to him using those knives for it.

It wasn’t until you were walking home alone from university that you discovered his little hobby of, well, killing people who inconvenienced you and him. Mostly people who inconvenienced you though, which was disturbing but also flattering in a crazy sort of way.

“Relax, it’s just a dead body,” he told you like he hadn’t just hit a man on the head with a brick hard enough to crack his skull.

You were cowering on the alley’s wall, eyes wide and knees shaking as you watched your supposedly nice and caring boyfriend wipe away the blood on his hand like it’s a normal occurrence. And when he grinned down at the body, something almost satisfied in his eyes, you realized that he was the cause for all the recent murders popping up in the city.

Now, the thing about this is that you should have run away screaming bloody murder, maybe call the cops or even do the sensible thing like break up with your boyfriend who’s apparently a psycho.

And you would have done it, if he just hadn’t been so… so…

He turned to you with concern shining in his eyes, stepping over the corpse of the man who’d pointed a pocket knife at you and tried to rob you. With hands still slicked with blood, he cradled your face and pressed a kiss to your forehead. “It’s a good thing you weren’t hurt.”

…sweet.

And as he pulled you away from the crime scene, dragging you home and running a hot bath for you both, asking you what you wanted for dinner like he hadn’t just murdered someone in front of you, you finally calmed down and saw the truth of the matter.

Yes, your boyfriend is quite possibly a serial killer, yes, you might just be making the worst decision of your life, and yes, you’re well aware this is because of all the wattpad bad boy stories you consumed when you were young, but you’ll be damned if you let Scaramouche go. He was kind (at least, to you he is), he was charming (when he wanted to be), he was a great cook, he was good with kids and the elderly, he was smart, and finally, he would never cheat on you.

So, while there might be the unfortunate addition of him being a little too happy with the idea of killing someone (have, in fact, killed someone, multiple someones at that), he was also the perfect boyfriend you could ask for. He just needs a little guidance, is all.

The next day, he proudly showed you the severed hand of a man who once made you cry because he groped you.

…Okay, a lot of guidance, but you can manage, you’ve read tons of bad boy turns good after falling in love type of stories. How difficult can it be to have your murderous boyfriend change his ways?

✧

Quite difficult, as it turns out.

A quick google on why people become murderers brought up a lot of questions and concerns for you, and while you’re well aware that google isn’t exactly the most reliable place when it comes to looking for advice, it’s also the only place you can go to without getting arrested for assisted murder—even though you’ve never actually helped Scaramouche when he goes all ham crazy on the general populace.

You sit him down on your couch, which was now free of blood thanks to google’s advice and good ol’ handy-dandy hydrogen peroxide.

Like this, facing each other and holding his hands, it almost seems like an actual, legitimate therapy session, minus the whole licensed psychiatrist thing. But hey, you’ve read tons of articles on the internet, so while you may be lacking in some aspects (namely, the fact that you don’t have any idea what you’re doing and aren’t qualified at all to be your crazy boyfriend’s therapist), you’re confident you can just wing it.

“Baby,” you start. Calling him endearments was an advice you picked up from reddit. A kind user named ballz3000 said that referring to them sweetly using innocent pet names can make them softer and calm their homicidal tendencies. “You know I don’t like it when you bring home dead bodies.”

According to another user named yn-yournuts, being open and communicating your feelings is the first step to establishing a healthy relationship and, consequently, a better mental state.

“It would’ve been difficult hiding the body at daytime,” he grouches, but he still keeps a gentle hold on your hands, which is a good thing. Baby steps, you tell yourself, baby steps—even though those baby steps might as well be called snail steps, wait, snail slithers.

“Then you should’ve waited until it was dark or midnight to kill him,” comes your immediate response—wait, damn it! You’re supposed to encourage him to steer away from murder, not give him advice on how to do it better. Smiling, you attempt to salvage the situation, “But, of course, it would be better to not kill anyone at all.”

It’s too late. He’s already donning a contemplative look on his face that soon turns into a grin, leaning in and briefly slotting his lips against yours.

“Thanks for the suggestion. I’ll be more careful next time, love,” is all he says before getting up and abruptly ending your impromptu therapy session.

And admittedly, there must be something wrong with you too, because instead of being horrified at his words, you giggle to yourself.

This is the first time he called you love!

✧

Alright, so operation therapy failed, it’s now time to charge in like a boar. Straightforwardness is always good according to that one article you found in google made by Hugh G. Bawles.

The two of you were in bed, the lights already turned off, when you took a deep breath and began preparing what you were going to say to him to prevent any more innocent people being killed.

Scara, I don’t like it when you kill people.

Baby, don’t show me anymore dead body parts.

Why did you become a murderer?

Sometimes, I feel like we’re a normal couple, but then you’ll suddenly go and casually bring me a bloody finger as a gift.

But instead of saying any of those, what comes out of your mouth is,

“Darling, I think you’re just confusing your constipation for homicidal urges.”

In hindsight, maybe attempting to start a heart to heart talk in the middle of the night just before a morning class was a bad idea.

You wait a few seconds, then minutes, and when he showed no signs of responding, you turn your head only to find him with his eyes closed and sound asleep.

Fine, you’ll just have to try again tomorrow.

✧

You share exactly one class with Scaramouche and it’s philosophy. Unfortunately, it’s also the class with the worst professor known to mankind.

“Ah, I got a low grade…” you mutter to yourself, looking down at your essay forlornly.

Your boyfriend takes one peak at your paper and immediately scowls. “You spent an entire night writing that.” He turns a glare to the professor currently ignorant of the murderer sitting in his class. “That asshole should’ve given you a perfect score. Maybe I should give him a little visit.”

You calmly take his hand under the table and squeeze it, all too used to him casually alluding to killing other people. “Dear, we talked about this. What do we do when we’re having homicidal thoughts?”

He looks down the table, brows furrowed in a sulking manner. “Don’t do it.”

You beam, proud at him for remembering the one thing you keep reminding him whenever he brings a dead body back to your house.

The blonde twins seated in front of you turn their head in horror after overhearing your conversation.

“What are you looking at?” Scaramouche sneers at the same time you say, “We’re roleplaying.”

“Right…” the long haired twin you distinctly remember was named Aether mumbles before he ushers his sister to ignore the two of you.

Oh well, at least you managed to stop one person from dying today. User tojiscrustysock on twitter always says you should take whatever victories you can, so you’ll consider this a resounding success.

✧

When you open the news next morning, the face of your professor is the first thing you see along with the words, found dead near his home.

You turn to your boyfriend sitting beside you, an innocent look on his face as you look at him with disappointment.

“My hand slipped,” is the flimsy excuse he settles for.

Sighing and utterly out of options, you’re forced to resort to the one thing you didn’t want to do. The worst possible option there is. If there’s going to a therapist and potentially getting arrested kind of worst, there’s this kind of worst—the absolute worst of the worst.

“Scara, I think we need to start doing yoga.”

word count: 1.8k

#scaramouche birthday fic!#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #scaramouche x reader #wanderer x reader #kunikuzushi x reader #gn reader

4K notes · View notes

huboi · 4 months

Text

“it wasn’t your fault”

[muzan kibutusuji, kokushibo and akaza x gn! reader]

╰┈➤ includes; mentions of r*pe, self loathing, death (not reader), please note this is a triggering topic so readers’ discretion is advised

╰┈➤ extras; this was a request, sadly I can’t tag them cause tumblrs’ being a bitch about it so I just hope that the requester comes across this

╰┈➤ a/n; it’s important to note I haven’t dealt with anything like this personally, so apologies if this doesn’t seem realistic or is badly done, I will try my damndest to be as respectful as possible with this fic

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

muzan kibutusuji

yes, he’s a demon, not just any demon but the king of demons, which certainly means he cares for no one, especially not a human of all things right?

wrong

muzan originally planned on turning you, when something in his dead heart jumped for joy at the sight of your face, he just couldn’t turn you

and so he protected you when needed and eventually you ended up dating

one thing he noticed is that whenever he goes to touch or kiss you etc. you seem to back off or hesitate, you believe he doesn’t notice but he does

he’s also noticed you tend to cover your body 24/7 with baggy clothing and never wear short sleeved shirts or shorts

when he confronted you about it, you just burst into tears, thinking he would dump you or blame you for what they did to your body

with a comforting embrace, and some time to mull it over, you decided to tell him what happened

muzan was furious to say the least, not at you, never, he was furious at the disgusting person who dared to lay their filthy hands on you without your consent

he gives you little kisses on your face (with consent of course) and hugs you close whilst assuring you “it’s not your fault”

later on when he was sure you were fast asleep, he took care of a certain someone

safe to say that that person will never touch you again

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

kokushibo

it’s pretty obvious he’s a demon

so as soon as you guys crossed paths, you could tell he wasn’t human by his face alone

at first you were worried he was gonna hurt you, but he simply shrugged and explained how he doesn’t bother killing people unless necessary

somehow you guys ended up in a relationship and bam!

you’re one of the most protected people in Japan

kokushibos’ weary eyes couldn’t help but notice your hesitancy towards his intimate advances, no matter how simple

he could also tell you held some sort of self hatred towards yourself, as he had been in your position hundreds of years ago

he brings it up one afternoon, explaining how he wants to make sure you’re both comfortable in the relationship

you hesitantly give him the answer, expecting for him to kill you on the spot

only for the usually stoic demon to wrap you into a tight hug, arms trembling and face contorted in anger

“it’s not your fault, you didn’t do anything wrong” he seethed, before asking if you remember what they look like

after giving him a brief description of them he was off in a flash, seemingly teleporting to god knows where

the person trembled, cowering into a corner begging for their life to be spared, kokushibo simply unsheathing his sword and landing cuts all over them so he can bleed out slowly and die from the blood loss

when coming back from his deeds, kokushibo saw you in bed wrapped up in the blanket, he simply climbed in after you and hugged you from behind

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

akaza

definitely the most angry out of all three demons

he will hunt everywhere for this person and won’t take a break until he finds them and breaks them himself

when he does come across this ‘human’, he will personally punch him so that he dies from a slow painful death

when coming back to you, akaza will simply be there for you throughout the healing process/trauma

he hates how the monster caused you so much trauma

akaza is always there for you if you want to vent or talk about your feelings

if anything like that ever happens again, tell him, he’ll be there for you and will also personally deal with the monster that did this to you

ʚ ═══･୨ ꕤ ୧･═══ ɞ

360 notes · View notes

riacte · 2 months

Text

"It's rotten work," Ren says. His tail swishes nervously. He has the demeanor of a sad scolded puppy even though no one's scolding him.

False looks up from where she's placing down mud blocks in accordance to the roads that Ren lined out. Ren's theatre kid behaviour must be kicking in now, because to call her work rotten is dramatic and almost insulting.

"It's not rotten to me. There's stuff I would call rotten work, but this is no where near it."

False places down another block. Ren obediently shuffles out of the way.

"Rotten work is when I'm at a tourney and no one's listening to my strategy so I'm left all alone, but then they use my strategy and we actually win while everyone ignores me. Rotten work is when someone sabotages me and I'm the one left to sweep away the pieces. Rotten work is when someone attacks me on purpose and I'm the one who has to apologise for being mad and pacify everyone else. This?" False pulls out another mud block, "is building. And building is not rotten work."

Ren cautiously observes what False is doing, then also pulls out his mud blocks. He moves a few steps forward so he's placing blocks, but out of her way. "It's still work," he admits. "A lot of work, in fact."

False is nonplussed. "But that's what builders do, don't they? And I am the Minister of Transport."

Ren laughs, but it's a quiet laugh. He pauses like he's hesitating, then he mumbles,

"I'm a lot of work."

Now it's False's turn to pause. Her hands continue with placing the blocks, because that's what she does. Building. Grinding. Helping friends out. So on and so forth.

"It's peculiar work for sure," False says, her tone light. "Picking up your stuff when you spontaneously explode. Bugging you about MCC. Teaching you basic colour theory. You can't get orange from blue, Ren. It sadly doesn't work that way."

Ren chuckles at the jab. "Worth a shot, eh?"

False coughs. "Yeah, like I said, peculiar work. But it's fine. I like doing peculiar work because I'm a peculiar person and you're a peculiar person. But together we are normal. Very normal indeed."

Ren considers it. "What if I don't want to be normal?"

"Then we won't be normal."

"What if I want to be normal?"

"Then we'll be normal. Or at least pretend to be."

Ren laughs. "That doesn't make any sense."

False smiles wryly. "Come on now, Ren, when have I ever made any sense?"

He shoots her a grin. "But you're like the most sensible person in the Neighbourhood!"

False lets the silence hang between them for comedic effect. "... No."

"No?"

"If I were sensible, I would've left the Neighourhood long ago."

"Hey!"

"Just kidding. That's why I'm not sensible. That's why I like not being sensible. Besides, I'm not the one who organised the ministry or planned the roads. You did. You're the one with the vision. I'm just following it."

Ren looks around the paths and his tail wags in excitement. "But you're contributing to the vision! I saw the bits and pieces you added! It looks great, by the way!"

False nonchalantly continues placing. "Yeah, you see, that's part of the peculiar work. You draw up the canvas and I edit in the details. It's like how we did the raceway last time."

"Yeah, but I haven't grinded as hard this time around. Too busy with my permit, my dude."

False giggles. "Would you call getting the beacon permit drawing a short straw?"

"I mean, I was the second to die in Demise, but you won and everything worked out in the end, so I don't mind." A pause. "Also gives me a chance to kill those dastardly withers as revenge for all the times they defeated me."

"Right, it's a lot of work to kill them, never mind farm them."

Ren sighs deeply. "There's definitely a lot going on. Especially those buttons, man."

False glances up. They're both still doing the roads. She watches Ren shift up a step and place down a mud brick slab.

"Yeah, but it'll be worth it. I'll buy your beacons. Actually, you can go do your buttons. You can kill some withers. I'll take care of this."

She can almost hear his apologies— sorry that she's doing the roads that he was supposed to do, sorry that he didn't reply to her messages, sorry that he's the way he is.

(And maybe he picks it up too— the way she actually means "I'll take care of you". He always seems to instinctively know what she means under her contradictory and confusing words. In the same way she instinctively knows what he means.)

Ren softly chuckles. "It's peculiar work."

"It's peculiar work especially if it's me, and especially if it's you—"

False sets down a mud brick slab right next to the one Ren placed. Just one slight push, and the pattern of the bricks align like they'd been inseparable from the get go. The corner of her lips quirk up.

"— but that's why I do it."

#ria.fic #hermitfic #falseren #<- platonic #i started writing this waiting for my salmon to steam. lesson of the day: dont steam a thick piece of salmon.#the big salmon voices in your head are EVIL. thin salmon for steaming #also if this reminds you of another fic that's bc i wrote the other fic. self plagiarism is always moral 🔥#what if we were silly. together #hermitcraft #rendog

279 notes · View notes

animekpopsimp · 2 months

Note

hey! I saw your post about Mha having a reader like Mitsuri and I was wondering if you could do a female s/o similar to Mitsuri.

MHA Characters with a S/O Similar to Mitsuri

Izuku

Izuku absolutely adores your personality and kindness, as well as your strength. He was surprised when you admitted that you had a crush on him, but he was happy that you felt the same. He knows you can be insecure about your appetite, but he doesn't judge you for it. And if someone tries to make you feel bad about yourself because of it, he's always there to cheer you up. You also cheer him up and make him feel better, which he really appreciates.

Katsuki

Your relationship with Katsuki started off rocky. He seemed to hate you at first, finding your overly positive personality annoying. However, after you beat him in a sparring match, he respected you, though he would never admit it out loud. He eventually confessed to you, and thus began your relationship. The two of you are considered a power couple. If anyone gives you any trouble, he will fight them without hesitation. And he doesn't mind your big appetite, he even cooks for you on occasion. He loves you a lot, and he shows it through his actions.

Shoto

When the two of you met, the two of you had very different options about being in a relationship. On top of wanting to be a hero to help people, you also wanted to find someone who would accept you for who you are. Shoto didn't see the need to get into a relationship, he was more focused on proving his father wrong. It seemed unlikely that the two of you would be friends, let alone fall for each other. However, over time, Shoto grew close with you. He admired your strength and kindness. He confided in you about his father, and you were always there to support him. When the two of you get into a relationship, Shoto is nervous. Part of him doesn't believe that he deserves someone like you. Despite that, Shoto is really sweet and caring. He will defend you if anyone tries to make you feel bad about yourself, he loves you and he won't let anyone upset you.

Momo

You met Momo when you were a little girl, both of your families being wealthy. Growing up together, the two of you had your own insecurities to deal with. None the less, you both helped each other. You were close friends for years, and as time passed the two of you developed feelings for each other. Momo was the one to confess, and the two go you started dating. Momo feels lucky that you feel the same, and you do as well. She's always there to make you feel better, and while she doesn't believe in getting into a fight if someone does say something bad about you, she will defend you with words. She can be surprisingly mean when she wants to.

Hawks

Hawks adores you, he fell in love with you the moment the two of you met. In the past, he never considered getting into a serious relationship, but he changed his mind when you came into his life. He dotes on you all the time, showering you with compliments and bringing you your favorite foods. The moment he notices you feeling insecure about yourself, he's right by your side, reassuring you that he loves everything about you. Hawks is your biggest supporter and would die for you.

Midnight

She's your biggest hype woman, she's always making you feel beautiful and will fight someone if they insult you. Her favorite thing to do with you is shopping, and she loves picking out new outfits for you, you both turn it into a fashion show every time. She also loves bringing you your favorite foods since it brings a smile to your face when she does. She wants nothing more than to make you smile all the time.

Aizawa

He may not show his affection publicly, but Shota is smitten with you. You balance each other out and you have a talent for making him smile. He finds your personality adorable The two of you have simple dates that mostly consist of staying at home and cuddling while a movie plays in the background. You two also enjoy having dinners together, the life you two have together is simple but you both love it.

Dabi

The two of you are the definition of total opposites. Dabi has an intimidating aura that scares people. You on the other hand are an absolute sweetheart. That's what Dabi loves about you, you give him a sense of peace that he hasn't experienced in a long time, so he cherishes the fact that you're in his life. Because of that, he's protective. He'll kill for you without hesitation. You're the only one he shows his soft side to, he just loves you.

Shigaraki

Shigaraki usually hates people, but you're the one person he can stand. Your personality makes him feel safe, and he won't let anything take you away from him. If he needed to kill for you, he would do so without question. He loves you a lot.

330 notes · View notes

lizzaneia-elizalde · 6 months

Note

Male Yandere Adventurer x Female Magical Maiden Reader

Just imagine a man who’s on an adventure or is like a hunter or something, coming across a magical maiden bathing in a body of water, and he just has to make her his

I was inspired by all those beautiful water nymph/maiden oil paintings that I thought this would be a cool concept if reader darling was the magical one for a change. Or what if yandere also secretly had some magic blood in him!?

Thanks!!! 💝

Yandere! Male! Hero! Isekai'ed Adventurer x Fem! Elementalist mage! Reader

💝 ANON! I love this request so much because I love worldbuilding. Making your own lore to magical worlds is just-- ack!

This time, this world will be the same as Yan! Villain's world. Hope you don't mind me putting more elements to the fic.

Also, my ask box is going to be open again! Finally. Lol. :3

Yan! Isekai'ed Adventurer's name: Aeron

A great Adventurer. Someone who defeated the Demon King by his own hands without any help.

From a nobody to the Hero everyone looked up to, Aeron shot up through the ranks of the Empire.

Charismatic, brave, strong, and determined, Aeron was somebody people underestimated before.

After all, he just suddenly appeared one day. In the middle of the throne room, nonetheless.

Begging for his life, Aeron pleaded the Emperor to not put him in jail for trespassing the palace. So, with the Emperor looking to take advantage of this man, he assigned Aeron to kill the Demon King by himself.

"Isn't that suicide?"

Yes, it was.

But Aeron is desperate. So he agreed to the quest and set off with only a few copper coins, a sword, bow, shield, stale bread, and the clothes on his back.

He's legitimately sent to die.

Only a human. Without any powers, nor he didn't go to the gym that much to have the physical prowess to even have a chance of fighting back.

He was so scared. So small, so powerless in a world filled with unknown magic that he didn't encounter back in earth at all.

He's someone who hopped from party to party, as people only saw him as fodder, or they just scammed him of free labor. Then abandoned once they realized he's off to kill the Demon King.

He tried so hard.

So hard for people to take him seriously.

But all he received was ridicule, harsh words, and spits or beatings for the people who went too far.

Humans, all they cared about are themselves and nobody else.

Selfish, hateful, and evil.

Are they sure the Demon King is the evil one and not them?

His body screamed in pain everyday as he hiked alone and taken advantage of. His wounds severe, his leg cut off. He tried so hard to be so understanding, but what is there to understand of hearts so filled with vile intentions?

Revenge, he was fueled with it.

He wants to see blood, he wants to see them suffering for the suffering he got. Tenfold.

Hero? He was no hero as he cut off the head of the Demon King who was innocent, and didn't do anything wrong.

Does he feel bad?

He feels too bad for himself to feel bad for others.

Waving the head of the Demon King, he trudges back to the Palace. Throwing the head at the feet of the fearful Emperor. Aeron sighs, knowing everything is finally going to his direction as the Emperor grants him Marquess status, after kicking the previous Marquess for corruption.

As the hero, he was regarded as a celebrity. Everyone loved him, and everyone revered him. Those who wronged him before though, now boasts of being his ex-party mates, and that they were the best of friends. Singing praises as if they didn't sling hurtful words to his way before.

Let's just say, they ended up dead the next day for even trying to say those words.

There's only one person who genuinely helped Aeron.

A mage, living alone in the woods on the foot of the Demon King's castle. She's somewhat of an enigma, capable of holding off monsters from trying to invade the Empire, especially the Demon King himself. Sure, the King is innocent, but only because he was not successful in invading the Empire yet due to her.

And she was you.

Truthfully, you were only a bored, overpowered mage who decided to protect the Empire one day. You wield all the main elements in a precision that nobody has topped off before, and sub-elementals in a way that other master wizards only dream of wielding.

OP, sure, but you didn't care about other people's feelings.

So, how did Aeron meet you?

On the way to the top of the castle, he had to take a bath due to being rancid. Showered with monsters' blood left and right, he hadn't had a bath for so long too, focused on killing the Demon King and nothing more. He didn't even care about his leg being gone as he hopped towards the stream.

Then, he saw you. Beautiful, ethereal you.

Bathing under the moonlight, the water cascaded down your skin and onto your curves, and down to the stream once more. Your hair, wet, shines as if stars sparkled within them.

Then your eyes. Deep, sharp, bored.

He was captivated.

"Who are you?" You asked, not even looking at him as you continued to wield the stream's water to make a pseudo shower. "Do not look at me like that, lecher."

Aeron froze, embarassed.

"Ah no, I just... Want to take a bath too when I saw you."

Your gaze looked at him.

"I can see that you really need a bath."

Aeron flushed red once more.

You cracked your neck before standing up. Aeron's eyes followed your every movement as you went up to him.

He could feel his heart beat increase in speed.

Then, feeling an itch on his leg stump, his eyes widened as a grotesque yet mesmerizing event happened. His leg is reforming once more.

"How did you..." He flexed his leg, in awe.

"Take a bath, you smell bad." You dismissed him before going away.

"Your name! Miss..." He yells, eyes erratic.

"Y/N. See you around, future hero."

And you left with a bag of gold, a mana infused sword, bow with mana arrows, and a shield made of obsidian.

The complete opposite of the Emperor.

His heart raced once more as tears fell from his eyes.

The first act of kindness he received in this world.

He vowed to repay you, so he took a bath, and headed straight to the Demon King to fight.

Now, he's here to pay back the kindness you gave him.

And he just hopes you recognize the man in front of you.

Or else.

After helping the Duke Eros in the war and earning another victory in his belt, Aeron rested his body in his chateau once more.

He placed his arm over his eyes, sighing deeply.

little dancing black sprites danced all around him as the sun filtered through the arched windows. These sprites started following him after he defeated the Demon King, and now he wields them like how a magic user does. He's still completely magic-less, but thanks to the sprites, he got to wield magic.

It was sunset, and Aeron just got back from reporting to the Emperor who gloated about the fact that this Empire just won another war.

"That freak." He muttered.

The current Emperor, who just succeeded the previous Emperor who mysteriously died with black sprites latched on his body, was a warfreak who wanted to spread his territory for fun, and spills bloodshed for the thrill of it. He's just the same age as Eros and Aeron, but god is he a crazy motherfucker.

Aeron stood up, letting the sprites dance around his palm as he casted magic on his hand. The sprite absorbed into his skin, making his arm pitch black with his veins dying the dark color. Creeping up to his arm.

"Portal."

The spatial frame cracked, forming a what looked like a broken glass opening.

It opens to the forest, the foot of the Demon King's castle.

His heart rate picked up once more.

He stepped forward, entering into the portal and being teleported into the forest.

One thing he got from the war he was forced to join is a ring with a jewel the same color as your eyes. One with an intricate carving and a unique design. As if veins popped out of the jewel, which was the centerpiece. It's embedded with fae magic that Aeron hopes is useful for you.

His steps heavy, the crunch of the leaves under you filled his ears. He's quiet, even his breathing light and seemingly not there. His time in the war, and fighting different beasts after the Demon King trained his body to perfection.

He stopped in front of the stream once more, a sense of dejavu knocked into him as he watched you bath once more there.

The moonlight filtered through the much bigger trees and into you below. You were much more magnificent than he remembers.

He gulped, itching to touch you, kiss you, feel you.

He felt pent up. But he knows that he should stop himself.

"*ehem*, my lady." He said, back straight and chest out. His eyes sparkling with warmth. "Remember me?"

You, startled as you didn't feel a presence, whipped your body towards him. A stark contrast to how you reacted before.

But, he felt his stomach drop when you looked at him all confused.

"Who are you?"

He suddenly clammed up.

Sweat started to riddle his face, eyes wide with betrayal.

This...

"I'm the person you helped before, my lady. The one without a leg?"

You hummed.

"I don't really recognize you..."

He started to breath heavily and shakily. His eyes, trembling, he tried to find signs of your form if you were joking.

But no, you were serious.

He took a step forward, his lips trying to say something. Anything.

You shrugged at his reaction.

"I help a lot of people, really. So I don't recognize you. Have I helped you? I assume I did, as you said."

But all he could utter was a helpless, silent cry.

This was worse than being exploited.

The only person who was nice to him when he got isekai'ed into this godforsaken world forgot him.

And you helped other people?

Not just him?

Something unknown bubbled deep into his stomach painfully. It felt like it was wrenching into a boulder he can't seem to lift away.

"My Lady... I..." His mouth felt dry.

You shrugged, snapping your fingers and making you instantly dry after you went up to the shore.

Wearing your clothes, you waved to him before going away once more.

Aeron felt sick to his stomach as he keeled over.

He never cried.

He refused to cry for the people who wronged him.

But now, tears flowed down from his eyes as he started to go under a panic attack.

"My Lady... Why... Why don't you remember me..." He sobbed out, his throat painfully clawing out cries of desperation. The tears soaked his cheeks but he didn't care. "You were so nice to me... Why?"

The fantasy he built inside your mind was now broken completely. He thought you will remember him. He didn't consider that you won't remember him.

He felt so lost.

What's all this for?

What is he fighting for?

When his lady doesn't even remember him?

He gripped the grass beneath him. A strangled cry finally gargling out of his mouth.

Why did he feel so attached to you?

Just because you were the nicest to him?

So what? You chose to be nice in this place filled with vile people.

He just wished you didn't.

He just wished you left him alone, maybe even be rude to him like others did if you would just forget him.

But no, you used your magic on him. A pathetic alien in this grotesque world filled with magic and discrimination.

He just wished he would die then and there.

As negative thoughts filled him, the darkness around him seeped into his legs and arms. Like the sprites, black veins crept around his limbs painfully and into his neck.

What is a hero?

His sclera turned black, his breathing became shorter and shorter.

Does a hero need to be always good?

Something poured inside him, making him gargle in pain. Drool dripped down his chin as he snapped out of it. He writhed in pain from the sudden influx of mana inside his body.

Why was he sent to this goddamn world in the first place?

He curled his toes, his body becoming rigid. Like a leech sprinkled with salt, he painfully clawed at his face as he moved around the place. His heart pounding fast, his mind pulsing all over the place.

Is the purpose of him being isekai'ed here is to save the world?

He hacked up blood, keeling over. The boulder in his stomach now a fiery acid he wished to dispel from his body. He vomits out blood again, but it was pitch black.

But if he was destined to be a hero, why is he suffering so much?

He wants the pain to be gone, he wants it off. He wants to ask for your help, to scream for your name to alleviate his pain like you did before. But no sound came from his mouth. Only black and purple smoke as his body underwent changes he never thought would happen.

Please, will you help this poor man?

After an hour, he shakily stood up. He felt that his senses got more sensitive, tenfold. He can feel every beast's emotion. He can feel overwhelming power inside him, same as authority.

After all, you were the light to his world.

And, as hundreds of beasts surround him, a sprite descended from above and placed a crown on his head. The monsters bowed to him. He numbly stood there, looking so disheveled but so ominous as he took a deep sigh.

Give this Demon King a chance, yes?

You flipped through your mythology book, lazily drinking tea.

You just finished eating dinner, and is now lounging at the roof of your treehouse. Intaking the mana into your body slowly, you had a relaxed form as you yawned from tiredness.

Then you felt it.

The sudden influx of demonic power converging into one place.

Your body shivered, goosebumps riddling your skin.

Coincidentally, the page you stopped on had the ritual of birthing the new Demon King.

After defeating the previous Demon King, a person experiencing the worst grief there is, someone who only received harshness and no kindness in his life, will be able to become the Demon King if a trigger happened. May it be betrayal of feelings, or if one act of kindness inside his unfortunate life suddenly turned sour. Creating the Ultimate Grief, the catalyst of the demonic power to surge inside that person.

Will you run away, or investigate, or stay?

You froze, not knowing what to do.

The only person inside the forest is the Empire's Hero earlier, who introduced himself to you.

What happened?

Is this related to you?

But you seriously don't remember him.

Or did you, and just don't want to acknowledge it by some reason?

Your trembling hand reached for your bag and hastily packed up your stuff. The previous Demon King was weak, somebody who lived for so long that his negative Demonic Powers were slowly depleting.

And the birth of a new Demon King is never a good sign.

This is one of the few times you cursed yourself for not learning how to do teleportation.

Two bags. Not enough but will do for now.

You need to warn the Empire.

"AH!"

As you grabbed the bags and tried to get out of your house, you stopped in your tracks when black veins crept on the floorboards, trying to reach your legs.

Heart rate picking up, you got up the couch.

You just knew that if these veins reached you, you are a gonner.

You clutched your bag, hearing a sorrowful moan outside the treehouse.

"My Lady... Why don't you recognize me?"

You're powerless against a newly awakened Demon King.

You can't escape him.

"You're my light, why did you forget me..."

Your walls creaked and moaned under the intense pressure Aeron was emitting. As if they were yelling at you for forgetting him.

"Was it because I was scrawny and dirty back then?"

He continued to wail outside of the treehouse. You tried casting light magic and dark magic, but they didn't do jackshit on the veins. They continued to try and wrap around your legs.

"My lady... Should I bathe myself in blood for you to recognize me?!"

Powerful wind blew away your front door as you screamed in terror.

Aeron stood on the archway, eyes bloodshot and crazy as his handsome visage was filled with grief, longing, love, anger, sadness...

"You're the same as them my lady..."

You searched his face, trying to recognize him. Your body was struggling to stay standing from the amount of pressure being pressed on your body.

Wait, something's coming in your mind.

As an attempt to speed up your memory, you hit your head with the heel of your palm. In a state of panic of wanting to remember immediately.

The floorboards groaned under his weight as Aeron stepped forward to you.

"Remember me, my lady. Please." Dark tears fell on his cheeks. "Please..."

"Ah! You... The man with the bloodiest stench, with the leg stump that I fixed!"

You spoke so fast that Aeron almost didn't catch it.

The wind stopped howling.

"You... You remembered me..." Aeron laughed, his eyes wide with manic desperation. "Oh my god, you do..."

Aeron slumped down, hugging your waist as he wept.

"My lady, you're too much! You should have told me that you remember me sooner!" He laughed lightly, holding your hand as he buried his face on your stomach.

The sudden shift in mood sent you into a harsh whiplash.

"I-I'm sorry." You whispered, not getting this man in front of you at all.

"I forgive you." He whispered, hands wrapped around you tight.

He feels so good now. No more grief, no more crying.

He just knows you remember him now. Nobody matters but you, and your recognition of him.

"My Lady, i'm here to propose." He suddenly said, making your blood run cold.

And, as he separated himself from you, he kneeled down on both knees, as if pleading you to say yes.

This man, the greatest hero of the Empire, was now kneeling in front of you. Awakened as a Demon King from the grief you caused. His eyes hooded, dripping with overwhelming affection for you.

What have you done?

You've condemned the Empire, this world to a Demon King once more.

"My life here in this Empire was the worst. Everyone hated me, took advantage of me, stole from me, abused me in every way possible. I lost hope, and was driven with revenge. But you, my lady. You showed me kindness when no one did, and I knew you are my soulmate." He confessed passionately, his voice dripping honey sweet with delusional feelings for you. "So, be my wife, my marchioness, my queen..."

You've got the Demon King and the Greatest Hero wrapped around your finger.

Be proud.

And, as you nodded hesitantly, he slipped in the ring he was fidgeting with earlier.

You flinched, feeling it tighten around your digit. Spikes digging slightly, making sure you cannot take it off of you no matter what.

You want to scream at him for this absurd ring, but the ominous smile he had made you clam up.

You are his salvation, and he would die without you.

So chin up, and hold onto the leash tight,

You won't know when this rabid dog will bite the hand that feeds him.

And you don't intend to fuck around and find out.

#yandere boyfriend #yandere imagines #yandere male #yandere writing #male yandere x reader #tw yandere #yandere x darling #yandere fic #yandere x you #lizzaneiaelizalde

281 notes · View notes

fruitywritter · 6 months

Text

Why do you have to be so stupid?

Summary: stupidity gets you killed. (Nearly)

Pairing: Natasha Romanoff x gn!reader

Tw: mentions of past suicide attempt, injured reader

Words: 3.5k

a/n: This is my second work I’ve posted here, I had wrote this a few days ago and I decided to post it. Even tho nobody’s gonna read this, but hey if you’re a reader here. Hi! 🫶🏼🥹

The sky was dark, the moon and the stars were shining bright that night. I walked through the dark alley, feeling my blood running down my stomach. The mission didn’t go as planned. It seemed that they already knew I was coming, they were ready. I put on a good fight and got the flash drive, but it wasn’t enough for me to escape. The moment I heard the gunshots and felt a sharp pain on my body, I knew that I needed to leave. They were too many, I was only one. I couldn’t call for back up. Nobody from the team knew that I was going to that mission. Fury had said it was too dangerous for someone to go alone, he was planning on bringing the whole team there in a few days. But it would be too late in a few days. I knew it was a stupid decision, but I wanted to help the team. Even though the mission was a success, my chances to survive were very low. The bullet wounds al over my body looked serious.

Standing with my back against the wall, I tried to breathe. I had already lost a lot of blood, I was feeling so weak and my vision was blurry. That was it. That was the way I would die. Not by some heroic act, but because I was an idiot for having to go alone there without telling anyone. I started to think about my friends, back at the compound. The avengers had become my family. I thought about Tony and his sarcastic comments, I thought about what he would say if he saw me like this. Tony was like a father to me, the father I never had. I thought about Steve, that old man.. He would probably lecture me if he was here, telling me that I need to think before acting.

Bruce. We were never that close with the man but I’ve always respected him. He was a very clever guy, he had also saved me from many dumb injuries. Thor. I didn’t see him that often nowadays, he had go back to Asgard something about having to deal with his idiotic brother, Loki. He would always tell me stories about other planets and people he had met. I was closer to Clint from the other guys. I could say he was a great friend and very loyal to me as I was to him. He was a great spy, and he was usually the one I trained with.

Wanda would be probably mad at me if she saw me like this. She had scolded me many times, usually when I made dumb decisions like this one. But we loved each other, we were friends since day one. We were always by each other’s side. I didn’t want to leave her alone in this world, even though she had the rest of the team. I was the only closest person to her, as she had said many times before.

And Natasha… I slid down the wall, wincing as the bullets inside me moved. I clenched my fist as I pressed down on my biggest wound. I didn’t want Natasha to see me like this. Even though she was used to seeing people dying, I couldn’t do this to her. I didn’t want to die. Natasha was a closed person, only Clint and I were able to read her as an open book. I couldn’t leave her alone. I brought my hand to my neck, touching the necklace she had gave to me. A small golden spider was hanging from it, with her initials engraved on the back of it. It was a gift for my 23rd birthday. It was the best day of my life that day.

I started thinking about how things would be after my death. I guessed I still had a bit of time left. I used to want to end it all. In my teenage years. Back then it was hard for me. I had no one to call family. No friends. I was close to that railing, so close to my death. Ready to jump off, I was so done with my life. But she was the one who saw me, she was the one who ran up to me and tried to call me down so I wouldn’t jump. And she succeeded. She saved me from killing my own self. Natasha Romanoff, she saved my life. Many times. She was my person. And I loved her.

But now she couldn’t save me. Right know she thought that I was out for a simple walk. Eventually she would start to realise something was wrong after I was gone for hours. She would start looking for me, calling me, calling the team. Then they would all search for me, until they’d finally get the news that I was dead. All because I couldn’t stop being stupid.

Looking one more time up in the sky, I whispered softly more to myself. “I’m sorry..” Breathing out, I tried to find my peace but the universe had other plans. Footsteps were heard in the distance, every second it was louder until it reached in front of me. I tried to open my eyes, trying to figure out who was standing in front of me. When I felt soft hands on my face, I opened my mouth to speak but was stopped by a familiar voice speaking louder to someone in the distance. “I found her! She’s here, come help me.”

Finally, when my eyes focused again I recognised the person in front of me. Those familiar green eyes, and the familiar red hair made me smile a bit and whisper. “Hey, love..” I watched as her lips curled up in a soft smile, but her eyes remained worried. “Hey, sweetheart..”

I went to talk but a pain on my chest kept me from speaking. Natasha was quick to notice and she pressed her palm against my cheek, carefully caressing it. “Don’t speak too much, дорогой. We will get you out of here, just hang on..” She said as she pressed her lips to my forehead and turned around as more footsteps began to appear around us.

“The jet’s ready, we can get her inside now..” I heard Steve’s voice from my left. “Is she okay?” He asked Natasha.

“She will be when we get her home. Come on guys, we need to move.” Natasha said as she gave me a soft squeeze before she stood back up. “Damn it, y/n. When will you stop being stupid..” Hearing Clint’s voice made me feel so bad. They were all worried about me, they didn’t deserve what they were going through because of me. “I’m -I’m sorry..” I whispered but it was enough for the team to hear it.

“It’s okay, y/n.. You’re gonna be okay..” A soft hand landed gently on my shoulder, caressing it carefully. I looked up to see Wanda, looking down at me. I smiled at her as the guys came closer and pulled me up. I winced and grabbed Steve’s arm to get more steady as they walked me inside the jet.

The whole flight was a blur. I remember Natasha sitting beside the bed I was laying in, holding my hand the whole time. We didn’t talk much. They had stopped the bleeding but still I had lost a lot of blood so I had to be at the hospital asap. Clint was flighting the jet, while the others were in some conversation about the flash drive I had retrieved. Wanda was sitting close to me but away enough to give me and Natasha some privacy.

I wanted to close my eyes but Natasha didn’t let me. She would say dumb things to distract me from closing them. Even though she tried to mask her emotions, I could really see right through her. I’ve learned to read her over the years, I knew when she was anxious, sad, mad, annoyed and happy. Even now that she tried to mask her anxiety and fear, it didn’t work to me.

When we got there, they quickly took me inside and brought me to the doctors. I couldn’t remember what happened exactly next. I could hear Natasha talking to me but I couldn’t hear any word that escaped her mouth. My vision blurry and not being able to feel my legs. Then everything went black.

—

I woke up by a beeping sound, trying to focus my vision to the bright light of the room. When i did that, I slowly looked around. It looked like a hospital room, a small TV in front of me on the wall, on my left a window and a door on the other side of the room. I was laying in a bed, it was comfy but my body felt numb. I heard soft snores beside me and turned my head immediately towards the noise. I relaxed when I noticed the redhead sitting in a chair beside my hospital bed, sleeping in a clearly uncomfortable position.

I tried to move but everything felt so weird, so I tried to speak. After a few tries I finally got to speak softly, hoping to not scare the green eyed woman sleeping. “Tasha..” I spoke but she didn’t even stir. So I tried again a bit louder this time. “Natasha!” I whisper-yelled. As much as I didn’t want to wake her up, I couldn’t just sit there and watch her lay there so uncomfortably.

That’s when she finally woke up, she looked around clearly confused by who woke her up. When she found my eyes she relaxed and smiled. She sat upright and took my hands, “Glad you’re awake, моя любовь.. How are you feeling?” She asked.

“I don’t know.. I feel kind of numb. What happened?” I asked her, hoping for some information. Natasha sighed and began talking, “You passed out the moment we got you inside the hospital. You had lost so much blood, y/n.. If we were late a few minutes, you wouldn’t have survived.. Thankfully, the doctors took you in immediately, saying that you needed surgery.” She paused to see my expression. It didn’t scare me at all, I was glad that I was still there. I was thankful to the doctors who saved me. I couldn’t imagine the reactions of the team if they found out I was actually dead. “They took out the bullets from your body, seven bullets y/n.” She closed her eyes, trying to calm down herself.

“How long I was out..?” I couldn’t help but ask. Natasha looked so tired, like she hadn’t slept for days. “Six days. After the surgery the doctors said that they put you into a coma so that your body would recover properly. They weren’t sure when you were going to wake up.” She let my hands and stand up from the chair, walking towards the window of the room, looking down the busy street. “The team came to visit you, all of us hoping you would wake up. Clint and Wanda stayed for a few days but I told them to go back home, staying at the hospital isn’t really that great and sleeping in a chair is also uncomfortable..”

“But you stayed..” I whispered, my face suddenly getting sad. She was really a wreck because of me.

“Of course I stayed, why wouldn’t I? I wouldn’t leave you alone, y/n.” She turned back to look at me with that sad expression. Slowly walking towards me, she crouched down beside my side, her face at the same height as mine. “I’m glad you’re okay.. I don’t know what I would do without you.”

I smiled and mumbled, “I’m glad I’m okay too..” but the next thing I felt was a slight pain on my shoulder, looking at her eyes in disbelief I said, “Did you just punch me? What was that for?!”

“That was for being stupid, you dumb idiot. Why would you go there on your own, even when Fury said that it was incredibly dangerous for one person?” She said, clearly frustrated. “And I didn’t even hit you that hard, stop being a baby.”

“Ah, fuck of..” I shook my head but quickly regretted it as I saw Natasha’s face. The murderous look she gave me made me shut up and mumble a “sorry” to her. As silence surrounded us, I decided to look back towards her. “Look.. I’m sorry, I know what I did was stupid. And I’m so sorry I made you go through all of this, that wasn’t really my intention. The plan was to finish the mission and come back home, I didn’t know that things would get bad..”

“It’s okay, I’m just glad you’re alright now.” She sighed and moved to hug my side so softly as she was afraid to hurt me. I moved slowly my arm and pulled her more into the bed, making her lay there beside me. Natasha put her head on my chest, with her strong arms around my waist. We laid there for what seemed to be an eternity, just relaxing in the presence of each other’s. We made a small talk, with her telling me that I was in big trouble when we would go back to the compound. Something about Tony being extremely mad and talking about grounding me until I was thirty. I knew he couldn’t do that, and that really made me wanna laugh. He couldn’t really ground a twenty-five year old, but it would be fun to see him trying.

A few days later I got the okay to leave the hospital, and I was over the moon. I really hated hospitals, something about them made me want to go as far away as I could from them. But with the company of Natasha’s, it was a bit more enjoyable. Wanda had visited me while I was still at the hospital, we sat for hours and talked. She was also kinda mad about my idiotic actions, at first she wouldn’t talk to me but then she gave in. Natasha gave us time to catch up and brought us lunch when it was time. Clint sadly couldn’t visit, he had gone back to his family for a few days. But he promised to be back when I got back home.

The ride home was calming, Natasha was driving with Wanda on the passenger seat. I was sitting in the back, looking out the windows. I couldn’t exactly walk with my left foot. A bullet had caused a bit of a damage there, but I had started physical therapy to make it better. As my doctor said, I would be able to start training in a few weeks. The bullet hole in my chest also started to heal faster, the one on my abdomen was a little bit bigger and it still hurt when I walked. The doctor said I needed more rest so everything would full heal.

When we arrived at the compound, I noticed Steve waiting outside. Natasha parked the car and helped me get out from the back. As Steve went to take me from her in order to get me inside, she simply gave him a look and he backed up. I nodded towards him and continued walking with Natasha inside the building. Nobody else was there so I supposed the rest of the team was in some mission. As the red head helped me up to my room, Wanda passed by to ask us if we wanted something to eat. When we kindly declined, she left and Natasha set me into my bed. “Alright, I have to do something first. Can you wait for me? It won’t be long.” She said, tucking my injured leg in some pillows. I nodded and gave her a gentle smile as I watched her leave the room.

I reached the TV remote that was beside me on the nightstand, switching it on and selecting a movie to watch while Natasha was gone. It didn’t took her long to come back and when she finally came in she had in her hands many snacks and drinks. I looked at her mesmerised, my mouth was hanging open as I watched her come and sit beside me on the bed. “What’s all of this?” I asked, even though I knew.

“Snacks! I thought it would be less boring if we watched a movie and eat together until we have to go downstairs.” She said with excitement in her voice. While I was still in shock I laid there, don’t knowing what to say. “You’re staring..” She grinned, knowing she had caught me.

Shaking my head, I looked down at my hands suddenly getting nervous around her. Still after all these years she still had that effect on me. “How can I not? You’re perfect..” I said, finally looking over her face only to see her blush. “Awh, look at you. You’re blushing! I made the Black Widow blush!!” I grinned, throwing my fist in the air like I won.

“Shut up..” Natasha said, looking away. It never got old. I liked teasing her, she wanted everyone to think like she was a baddie but in reality she really was a softie. At least when she was with me. I smiled softly, making her look at me weirdly, “Why the fuck are you smiling?” She said, trying to look serious but she failed miserably. That only made me laugh more. “Seriously, y/n.”

I threw my hands up, like I was surrendering. “Okay, okay. Sorry, no need to give me that look.” My laugh had stopped by now and I was just grinning at her. “I was smiling because I’m happy. You make me so happy, Natasha.” I sighed, gently turning my body a bit so I could face her fully. I took her hands in mine, squeezing them slightly. “And I want to thank you. Thank you for being here the past few days, you never left my side and I’m thankful for that. Also I want to thank you for being with me every day for the past few years. You saved my life so many times, because of you I’m still here.” I watched as her eyes watered but she didn’t dare to speak so I continued. “You know I was in a place where there was no escape, I was so done with life. I didn’t have anyone by my side. No one to call my person, no one to talk to about my problems. But you Natasha, you came into my life and helped me to understand that life’s worth living. Damn it, you made me scared of death. You know how fucking scared I was in that alley? I had realised that I didn’t want to die, I didn’t want to leave you alone. I wanted to live, I wanted to stay here with you. I wanted us to keep having picnic dates, movie nights together, to spend time together doing absolutely nothing. I wanted us to keep sleeping together at night, to keep waking up together in the mornings. I wanted you to keep yelling at me whenever I made a stupid decision, to see your face when you were so mad at me for something so dumb. But more importantly I wanted to be able to see again that smile,” I motioned to her face. Tears spilling down her cheeks as she tried not to cry. I took a breath before speaking again. “Natasha Romanoff, you make me want to live. You’re the best thing that ever happened to me. I can’t believe that I can’t go a day without seeing those beautiful eyes. You mean everything to me and I don’t know how long it took me to realise it but I can say now that I’m literally so fucking in love with you.” I finished, softly looking at her.

“Love..” She paused as her voice broke. “I’m so in love with you too.. So much..” After hearing those words my heart jumped, I shot towards her taking her in my arms and holding her. I pulled away from the hug, catching her lips with mine, kissing her slowly with love. Honestly it was one of these moments where Natasha would be so comfortable with me that she let herself cry in front of me. Being vulnerable in front of me. And I loved that, not that she cried. But because she was comfortable enough to show her true self, she was open about her feelings.

Natasha Romanoff, was in love with me. And I was in love with her. And it only took for me to nearly die for us two to accept it and confess it to each other. But now, that all of this was over, that I was okay and alive with my girl beside me. I felt like I could win everything.

#natasha romanoff x you #natasha romanoff comfort #soft natasha romanoff #natasha romanoff fluff #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha x you #black widow #natasha x reader

268 notes · View notes

libraryraccoon · 3 months

Text

The Aeon Of Creation : Surprise ?

P1 (here) -> P2 (coming soon)

TW : English isn't my first language, bad english. Spoil Penacony quests.

Gender : Male/GN

Pronouns used : He/They

Info : I was sad when I haven't found any hsr sahsr au, so I decided to write one.

There was an Aeon that everyone know in the universe.

The first Aeon that have been appeared, The Aeon Of Creation.

It’s said that The Aeon Of Creation was the first being that had appear, that it’s them that have create the universe, the worlds, and that have created the others Aeons. That it’s them that say who can be an Aeon.

But no one has seen them for a while now. Even the others Aeons were worried, even Nanook.

It’s only decades later that a trailblazer saw them.

<----->

His name was Caelus, he was in a dream at Penacony when he meet them.

They seems so familiar, but also they seems like a stranger.

“Excuse me.” Said the grey hair, looking at the h/c hair. “Have we met before ?”

They had h/l h/c hair, e/c, s/c, and they were wearing a white shirt with a sleeveless sweater on top, a trench coat, black pants and shoes.

They had a men body, and they look like a men in every way. But, more Caelus was watching them, more they don’t seems to be human, and more they remember him someone- but he don’t know who.

It was.. strange.

“Maybe yes, maybe no.. Who know ?” ask the person-thing. “I'm sorry, I have a bad memory."

They were lying, Caelus didn’t know how, but he just know it.

He hate when people lie to him.

“I’m Y/N and my pronouns are he/him. Just a person traveling in the universe. Nice to meet you.” He introduced himself lifting his hat a little in a sort of reverence- since when did he have a hat ?!

Caelus ask no question -he was used to things like that.

“I’m Caelus, a nameless.” He said, Compared to usual, he didn't make a joke or show off like he usually did. He didn’t really think about it at that moment.

<----->

Caelus was often with Y/N.

They was what we can called ‘best friend’.

Every time Caelus was in Penacony, he would go straight to Y/N.

Y/N gave off a sort of comforting and familiar aura. One that he found difficult to part with. Maybe the reason he clung so tightly to his friend was to avoid a repeat of Firefly, to protect him. Caelus didn't know, and he didn't search for an answer, focusing on the present.

“Caelus ! Do attention ! I swear one day you will die soon if you continue like that !” His friend swore as Caelus passed on the road to join him, not paying attention to the passing cars, almost being run over by one.

Caelus only give a nervous laugh at that.

<----->

Being the Aeon of Creation for them was boring.

They knew everything, having nothing to learn. That annoyed them. They wanted to learn, to discover things.

But with their creations worshiping them, some much, MUCH, more than others, it was impossible. So they took a human form and visited the planets, the worlds, that they had created from another point of view.

<----->

Humans were very attached to all this gender and sex stuff, so they took on a masculine appearance and he/him pronouns. Like that, they really look like the other humans ! Well, except for their blood. They had a blood that was like the universe, no, that was like their blood was the universe ! Just like their tears. And it's never touching the ground, disappearing in the air. They had to be careful for not being hurt or crying in front of people (but why and how they know their tears colors ?)

They was travelling alone until they meet him.

He was a boy with short grey hair and yellow eyes. His name was Akivili.

They traveled the universe together, in the Express.

Akivili was their first friend, their first best friend,

Their first love.

They were really closed, and the Aeon realized too late that they were falling for him.

The day they wanted to confess, Akivili disappeared.

The Aeon of Creation have done all for finding him, but always in a human form, they didn’t want people to realize who they was.

And, one day, in a dream they meet someone that look like Akivili.

His name was Caelus, a nameless, just like Akivili.

The Aeon of Creation thought that maybe, just maybe, he was Akivili, a reincarnation, or a descendant of him. They were sure the two were related.

Especially that he have the name Akivili wanted to give to his son.

The day before the Creator turn Akivili into an Aeon.

“Hey, if one day you have a kid, what name will you give them ?” ask Akivili.

“Huh- I don’t know ?” said the Aeon confused. They thought about how everyone always gives two names to this question, one feminine and one masculine. “Aether if it’s a boy and Stelle if it’s a girl.”

“Great names. You’re always creatives for names.” Said the mortal.

“And you ?”

“Caelus if it’s a boy and Lumine if it’s a girl.” Akivili answer easily.

Akivili always had something for picking great name.

It’s him who gave them the name Y/N after all.

So, for knowing who really Caelus was, they decided to stay with him.

Of what they had understood, he lost a dear friend, so Y/N helped him at the same time with all his grief thing.

And that worked ! Well, in a way ?

Caelus was feeling better now that Y/N was here, but he was what mortals called ‘clingy’.

The Aeon found that funny – Akivili was always clingy with them when he was tired. So that make them think of the past.

They was happy to compare Caelus to Akivili, making some theories about it, and not to some creep that prayed them..

Maybe The Aeon Of Creations have what mortals called a trauma caused by a few of their believers.

<----->

The Aeon Of Creation is traumatized of all this Sagau imposter AU/j I thought making the creator having a universe color blood and tears will be funny because, you know, they created it- The Creator thinking Caelus is Akivili is an idea that would hurt when it will be more developed.

#honkai star rail #hsr #hsr x reader #hsr x gn reader #hsr x male reader #gn reader #male reader #hsr sahsr au #honkai star rail sahsr au #honkai star rail x gn reader #honkai star rail x male reader #akivili x aeon of creation #Raccoon is writing #sahsrau

352 notes · View notes

adventuringblind · 10 months

Text

Offense is the best Defense

Oacar Piastri X Verstappen!Reader

Genre: angst to fluff

Request: no :’( but I’m taking them! Send theeeeem. I’m going to die without them. Jk but do feel free to flood my inbox with ideas.

Summary: Oscar is new to the grid. Meaning he’s also new to the Verstappen family dynamic. It sucks that he has to watch the girl he fell for get berated by her father. So he decides to do something about it.

Warnings: Jos Verstappen, allusions to verbal abuse, allusions to physical abuse

Notes: written in third person

Masterlist

Oscar first met her when he was in formula 2. She’d been walking around the paddock before her brothers race and right after his.

She looked like she was debating something. Frozen in time. So frozen that he literally ran into her and she hardly moved. Aside from her mouth which was rapidly spilling apologies.

He started looking for her every time the races lined up. The boy wanting her number but it always seemed like the wrong time.

When he caught her walking alone, the sun illuminating her features, he knew it was now or never.

Thus started their friendship.

He didn’t have to try with her. Even his dry sarcasm that other people hated made her snicker. They shared the latest gossip over late night video calls. She listened intently to his frustrations. In his eyes, she’s an angel.

When he signed with Alpine, he was excited to see her more. Now that he would be in the same area all the time, it would be easier.

She often found herself in the Alpine garage watching the race with him. The small touches she left on his arm when things happened made his heart melt more for her, if it was even possible.

The first time he noticed something was a bit off, was when ended a call for her. He’d been yelling in a language he didn’t understand. Then a slamming door, her rapid breath, his angry mumbling, then silence. He was aware something was going on in the Verstappen family. Everyone knew. Max has repeatedly said things his dad has done like it’s normal. Laughed about it even.

Oscar saw Max knew that not everything that happened was normal. His body usually a half step in front of his sister when their father started getting aggressive. She always celebrated Max’s race results even if he DNF’d. Her attempts at soothing her father before he got to Max in vain, but she didn’t care.

The first time Oscar caught it, he’d wanted to step in. Christian grabbing his shoulder before he could get into the Redbull garage. “I know you care, but it might make things worse for them.” He’d said. A frown on his lips.

“Isn’t there anything I can do?” He didn’t want to leave her like this.

“Be there if they need someone.”

Oscar had taken those words to heart. Making sure he was always available to her as she was to him. He held her when she needed a hug. Lent her say everything she’d wanted to say to her father.

This continued even as he got a seat with McLaren.

She was the first person he called. They celebrated by driving to where there was no light and just staring at the stars.

He didn’t know where the burst of impulsiveness came from. His lips were on hers at one point. Softer then he’d imagined. Then he was pulling away, realizing what he’d just done. He didn’t get far however, as she wrapped her hands around his and pulled him in for another.

Things changed after that. Their feelings now on the table. It was obvious they were in love and he knew it. Lando teased him relentlessly. Max shockingly congratulated him, then threatened him, followed by a plea to take care of his baby sister.

She started staying in his hotel room. The relief of not having to be around Jos as much showed in the way she carried herself. Her confidence seemed to go up. She smiled and waved at everyone. It made Oscar happy to know she was starting to feel the way he had always seen her. Perfect just the way she is.

Unfortunately, Oscar knew he wasn't going to be able to solve all her problems. Jos is still active in her life and Max's racing career. What's worse is that Jos didn't seem to like him all that much. He'd tried introducing himself only to be waved off.

It didn't make any sense to him, but if she was smiling, then so was he.

The next time she ran into trouble was when she came to a race in a McLaren shirt with Oscar's number on it. She had started dividing her time evenly between her brother and him.

Jos was less than happy about this. Consistently finding excuses for her to be away from the papaya team.

Both her and Max went home for the week off. Both want to see their eldest sister and her family.

When she got back to her room at her father's house, the majority of her clothes had been ripped to peices. A lovely note taped to her door reader: 'If you're not going to support this family, I won't support you.'

Max had been waiting for her to grab her things. Though he was getting annoyed with how long she'd kept him waiting. Finally, after an hour, he decided to see what was keeping her.

He made his way up to her room. The muffled sounds of tears could be heard from down the hall. He peaked his head into her door, not bothering to knock since it was halfway open.

The sight of most of your belongings being ribbed to pieces shattered him. Jos had done it before. The first time was when Victoria had her first relationship, then when Max back talked, she the youngest broke curfew by five minutes, and so on.

Max thought they were over this. Turns out he was wrong. He was down on his knees, trying to help soothe her. Her fingers clutched pictures that had been ripped to pieces. Her clothes scattered around the floor with scissor cuts through them. Anything glass or fragile had been smashed.

It took them hours to get everything clean. Max grabbed an extra bag and they packed whatever she had left into it.

"Obviously, I'm forcing you to move in now."

Max had offered it to her a few times. She always turned it down. Jos made it a point to say she would be another added distraction. As if Kelly and Penelope weren't enough already. Now, he wasn't giving her a choice. Jos didn't come and visit Max's apartment, so he knew it would be safe there.

She called Oscar that night from Monaco. He instantly knew something was wrong by the look in her eyes.

"What happened?"

"I moved into Max's apartment... kinda."

"Are you alright, love?" He was trying to be gentle. She looked so pained. She shook her head no in response.

"What do you mean by kind of? Do you want me to come to Monaco?"

"My dad shredded all my clothes and broke most of my stuff. Kelly is taking me to get some essentials tomorrow's before we have to leave."

She turned her camera to show Oscar her new room. "I do like it here for what it's worth."

Oscar had made up his mind that night. "If you want to, you could always come live with me." He sounded unsure of himself. The two had never talked about it before.

"Wouldn't I be a distraction?"

"Where on earth would you get that idea? I think you make me drive better, personally."

It was settled that she would go home with him after the race. Max was elated for her. She finally found someone who saw her and wasn't intimidated by their father.

The race weekend went by so fast. The McLaren boys did amazing, placing p2 and p4.

She quite litterally was crying in joy for Oscar. Max had never been prouder of Lando. From their start to now was a big achievement.

The two knew that Jos would have their ears for it later. Congratulating competitors isn't how you make a name for yourself. It's why she hugged Oscar a little more than normal in front of him.

The garage was a nightmare. She didn't want to be here anymore. Jos had been hounding both her and Max.

Oscar had been on his way to find her. She couldn't have gotten far. Probably just to her brothers garage to celebrate his win.

Oscar is normally able to stay calm, level headed in many situations that require it. This was not one of those situations.

Similar to the first time he saw Jos interact with his kids, he felt the need to step in. Or at least say something to him.

There was nothing standing in his way this time.

He straightened himself. Mildly nervous at hearing the sounds of angry Dutch.

Oscar took long steps and placed himself directly between Jos and his children. The older Dutchman shot him a look of confusion. Then recognition formed in his stern eyes.

"Get out of my way." He seeths. He can feel the woman behind him trying to tug him away.

Her concern for his safety was rapidly approaching the heart attack range. Her brother spinning on his heels only to see her on the verge of hyperventilating.

The two had a shared fear. They knew how to evade their fathers hand. He'd not hesitated to be aggressive before, and they doubted that had changed recently.

It didn't matter, though. Oscar grabbed her wrist protectively, tugging her slightly behind him.

"No." He sounded more sassy than intended. Challenging the older man.

It didn't take long for the people around to realize something was going on. Oscar is dressed in his race suit still and stands out, the girl behind him is damn near petrified and Max just hit the wall with his hand.

The youngest Verstappen inched her way around Oscar. His stare off with the older male distracting him more then he thought.

“Max asked you to leave.” She said. Trying to hide the waiver in her voice. Oscar flinched at the sound. How had he not realized she was now in front of him? Regardless, he goes back to holding her protectively, just with an arm around her waist this time.

She felt better now that he was there. The confidence he’d been helping her gain was finally paying off.

Jos was turning red in and her now. His hand quick to move towards her.

Oscar was able to react faster. He yanked her body backwards into him, stumbling as they moved dodged his swing. The two still managing to stay upright.

Max was also quick to react. Weaving himself between the younger two and his father. Max didn’t hesitate to shove him away.

Everyone stood in shocked silence for a moment. The only sound being heavy breathing

Everything had moved fast after that. The young woman clung to Oscar, both in fear and joy.

Oscar held her tightly. Hand pressed into the back of her head. Lost of the words of praise in encouragement they were whispering to each other.

They let themselves enjoy the moment. Completely tuned out of the world. Both had been successful in something. Something that had been a long time running and they had helped earthed through the worst of.

It was something both of them could be proud of, for themselves and each other. So they let themselves bathe in the euphoric feeling that they earned.

684 notes · View notes

writtenfromhawkins · 2 years

Text

hoax.

ship: steve harrington x fem!reader.

summary: when his father lets him know his presence is expected at a company dinner party, steve blurts out he’d be taking his girlfriend. the problem? he’s very single. now stuck in a lie, he goes to you for help.

word count: 2.7k.

warnings: lots of pining, some curse words, mentions of migraines, steve’s dad sucks.

authors note: cliché, but i am simply a slut for the fake dating trope.

part two

let’s fall in love for the night.

“Are you fucking insane?”

“Come on sweetheart,” he begs, reaching over the counter to grab ahold of your hands, his gaze never faltering. “I can’t go alone.”

“You could,” you point out, wiggling out of his grasp, “if you just told the truth. “

"I’m already the loser son with a dead-end job.” Steve waves his arms around, motioning to the racks of videos in the dingy store as if to say see? “I can’t be the loser son with a dead-end job and no date.”

And just like that you falter, any arguments—and you have many—die before they can leave your lips. You hate that your good, kind, funny, absolutely incredible friend felt like anything but. You’d never verbalize it but you despised his father for being the only one capable of bringing that side out of him, turning him from the man you admired into the needy, desperate-for-acceptance and attention boy you barely remembered from high school.

“If I go...”

It’s a hypothetical, not a real answer but still, your words inflate him. He stands up straight, shoulders back, handsome features pulling into a grin.

“Steve...”

Before you can react, he’s up and sliding his long body across the counter. “Oh, sweetheart,” he coos, coming to a stop in front of you. Big hands reach out, grabbing ahold of each side of your face to pull you close and press a kiss to your forehead. “You are an angel, a goddess really, heaven sent.”

If his praise warms you, his lips set you on fire, just enough to make your brain go fuzzy and have you ready to agree to whatever he wants but you stop yourself, doing your best to hold on to some semblance of self-control.

This is your friend, one of your closest, and one you maybe have some confusing feelings towards. You don’t like-like him, no way. But, yeah, your heart would beat just a little faster when you saw him and, sure, when he’d touch you—God, was he affectionate—sometimes you’d get butterflies. He was also your ultimate confidant, the one you could complain to about your parents or rant to about your latest shit date. He was a safe place, a non-judgmental ear, someone you could always rely on. Again, confusing.

You worry the ruse he was suggesting would run the risk of crossing a metaphorical line, something you may not be able to come back from.

“Steve,” you say again, hoping to grab his attention, “Stevie, that wasn’t a yes.” His smile falls and you resist the urge to backtrack. “I was trying to ask what we’d be doing. Like... if I agree, what am I actually agreeing to?”

Just like that, he perks up again because you are considering it. That’s progress and he’s grateful; you were the only person he felt comfortable enough asking. Robin would just laugh at him, he could hear it now—like anyone would believe that, dingus, she’d say before bursting into giggles. Nancy was complicated, came along with too much baggage and too many hurt feelings. But you? With your kind eyes and warm demeanor, he felt like he could go to you for anything.

“It’ll be an easy night, I promise,” Steve assures you, desperate for you to believe him. “I’ll make up some excuse so we can just meet my parents there. We won’t even have to deal with them that long. Really. I’d just need you to tolerate them for dinner and, uh, you know... act like you like me.” He throws it out there like it’s nothing, like the thought of that doesn’t make him feel some type of way. “You can wear a pretty dress and get a nice meal out of it. And, I swear, I’ll owe you big time.”

You’re quiet, pretending to consider the proposition—as if you could ever say no to him. “Can we get ice cream after?”

With no warning, he’s reaching out for you again, pulling you into an embrace. “Whatever you want.” He means it too.

—

When Steve shows up at your door a week later, you can barely contain your relief when you see officially that you two match. Well enough anyway. Getting outfit details out of the man had been akin to getting teeth pulled—long and painful.

“What’re you wearing?” You’d asked one night, phone cradled between your ear and shoulder, cord fully extended as you dug through your closet.

“Uh... jeans and a t-shirt?” His answer had come out like a question.

“What?” You’d laughed. “Not right now, Steve. I meant for the dinner.”

“Oh!” You couldn’t see it, but he slapped his forehead, face flushed. “Right, yeah. Duh. It’s supposed to be fancy so like... a suit and tie.”

“Color?”

“Black.”

“Black,” you’d repeated.

“Is that bad?” Steve’s voice betrayed him, he sounded panicked.

“No, no!” You were quick to reassure him. “That’s classic. What color shirt?”

“Blue.”

You paused, waiting for further details that don’t come. “What kind of blue?”

Steve scoffed. “What do you mean what kind of blue? Blue is blue.”

“It’s really not,” you pointed out, arms crossing. “Is it dark or light?”

“Why does this even matter?” He didn’t mean to be short with you. Really, he didn’t. But anything involving his dad was enough to set him on edge. An already short fuse combined with genuine confusion didn’t make for the moment peasant conversation.

“So we can match. We’re supposed to look like a couple, right?” You chose to ignore his tone for the sake of keeping the peace.

Like a couple. “Oh,” he breathed. “Right, sorry. It’s dark.”

You’re about to ask if he meant more midnight blue or something a tad lighter but you stop yourself. No point, you could make that work.

And you did. The little number you’d picked out was navy, slinky, and fell to mid-thigh. With enough skin exposed to keep it interesting but just conservative enough to satisfy the stuffy businessmen you’d surely encounter.

“Hey,” you greet him, leaning against the door frame. You try to stop yourself but your eyes travel, taking in the perfectly coiffed hair, the broad shoulders, and the snug slacks. He cleaned up well.

The one imperfection—if you could even consider it that—is the loose tie hanging around his neck. He catches your gaze and lets out a dejected sigh. “Couldn’t get the damn thing tied and didn’t wanna ask my dad. Do you think...?” He trails off, sheepish.

You soften at the admission, happy to help with whatever he needed. “Of course,” you answer, stepping aside. “Come in. I gotta grab my purse anyway.”

He steps cautiously inside, taking the opportunity while you were busy to fully appreciate your attire. “I shoulda said it as soon you opened the door but you look incredible.” You were always beautiful, that was something he realized ages ago, but to see you dolled up for him was something new, something he thought he could get used to. “I’m gonna have the prettiest fake date there.”

You can’t help it, you preen at his praise. You were doing this for him, after all. You wanted him to be pleased, to think you looked nice. With your back to him, you’re able to hide just how much an effect those words have on you as you grab your back from an end table and slip the strap up your bare shoulder.

“Alright,” you say as you approach him, coming to a stop right in front of him, the toe of your heels just barely touching his Oxfords.

Almost hesitantly you reach out, hands taking hold of each end of the tie. It’s pretty, you decide. Navy with light blue and white flowers. You’re rusty but still, with minimal fumbling, you’re able to get a passable Windsor done. Carefully you tighten the knot, knuckles grazing his Adam's apple before your hands lower, smoothing the fabric down his chest to his sternum.

You hope he can’t tell your hands are shaking, he hopes you can’t feel how fast his heart is beating.

Satisfied, you take a step back, eyeing your work. “Looks pretty good to me.”

He nods in agreement. “S’perfect, sweetheart. Thank you.” A silence falls over you for a moment, it’s comfortable and nice, but Steve has to break it. “Ready to go?”

When you give the affirmative, he offers you his arm. You take it and soon he’s leading you out of your house to his BMW, opening the passenger side and getting you safely in the car before rushing around the other side, joining you.

—

When you pull up outside the banquet hall, Steve is quiet. Tentatively you glance over at him. Both hands are gripping the wheel so tight his knuckles are white, his shoulders tense, jaw clenched. You want to ask if he’s okay but before you can, he’s looking back at you, smiling although it doesn’t reach his eyes.

“Let’s do this.” He doesn’t sound excited.

Steve is out of the car and making his way to your door before you even have your seatbelt undone. You thank him when he opens it, pulling the hem of your dress from where it’d ridden up on your thighs. His eyes follow your movements.

“Before we go in there, I just want you to know we can leave anytime, okay?” You’re doing him a favor, a major one, and he doesn’t want you uncomfortable, doesn’t want you in a bad situation just for his benefit.

You almost laugh, figuring that he’s being just a little dramatic but you refrain. “It’s just dinner, Steve. I promise I’ll be okay.”

He wants to point out you’ve never actually met either of his parents, making you woefully unprepared for what the night would entail. He wants to warn you, to protect you, but then you’re taking his hand in yours and any concern is forgotten.

—

That’s how you walked into the event: fingers interlaced, whispering to each other and Steve despised himself for how much he was enjoying it. You were his friend—strictly platonic. It should have felt weird or uncomfortable, but it didn’t. On the contrary, it felt nice, natural and he was hoping his parents wouldn’t see him, that he could keep the night just the two of you.

Those hopes are quickly dashed when his father, from across the fucking room, bellows out his name, waving. Steve can tell right then and there he’d been drinking and all he wants to do is turn you around and take you home but instead, he leads you right into the lion’s den.

He regrets it but it’s too late. “Mom, dad, this is...”

He doesn’t even get the chance to introduce you. His mother is squealing your name—he’s surprised she even remembers it—and is wrapping you in an embrace. It’s stiff, incredibly insincere and you don’t like it, but you smile anyway.

When she dropped her arms, you step back so you’re pressed tightly against Steve, his hand finding the small of your back. “Mr. and Mrs. Harrington, it’s so nice to finally meet you.”

“Oh,” his father breathes, “it’s nice to meet you too. We didn’t even think you existed, isn’t that right, honey?”

Wide-eyed, Mrs. Harrington almost looks apologetic. “We’ve just never seen you around the house.”

Steve grits his teeth, the irony in the comment not going unnoticed. They were never home enough to know what he had going on.

“More like we didn’t think a girlfriend could fit his ice cream shop budget.” He says it like it’s supposed to be funny. No one laughs.

“I don’t work at Scoops anymore, dad.” Steve sounds contrite when he reminds his father, but the older man simply waves him off.

You tug on Steve’s suit jacket, stopping him before he can say anything else. “Well, you have nothing to worry about, I’ve never been treated better. You really raised a perfect gentleman, you should be proud.” And they should. They ended up with an incredible son even if they did little to form him into the man he was now.

“I guess he was bound to inherit something from me.” Yeah, right. “So, what do you do? Steve said something about college?”

“Well, I bartend part-time at The Hideout.” You say it like either of the elder Harringtons would have heard of the shithole but they’re definitely not your usual clientele. “It’s a little bar on the other side of town. But yeah, I’m in school right now. I’m majoring in Early Childhood Education at Purdue.”

He whistles like he’s impressed. “A teacher, huh? An actual career.” He’s talking to you but he’s looking at Steve,

Your eyes narrow and you open your mouth, desperate to put him in his place, but Steve speaks before you get the chance. “Yup,” he agrees, “she’s brilliant. All future little gremlins are very lucky.”

You’re tense, frustrated by Steve’s father and the way he jumps at any opportunity to cut Steve down, but you allow yourself to be temporarily distracted. You could tell he meant what he was saying and it meant a lot to you.

“Oh, babe,” you turned to look at Steve, practically beaming at him. You catch the way he flushes at the pet name—a bold move for you, something you normally didn’t use but, hey, you were trying to sell it. “Thank you.” You turn your gaze back to his parents. “He’s so supportive.”

“He should be,” Mr. Harrington pipes up. “If he’s not gonna have a real job—”

Okay, that was enough.

“Hey—”

“Sweetheart,” Steve interjects, already knowing what is coming, “is your head feeling any better?”

You blink, totally caught off guard. What the hell was he talking about?

“Oh?” says Mrs. Harrington. “Are you not feeling well?”

“She gets these awful migraines,” Steve answers for you, just blatantly lying now. “Had one all day today.” He tsks as his hand moves from your back to your temple, fingers massaging soothing circles into the flesh. “I tried to get her to stay home but she was so excited to meet you guys. Nothing could have kept her away.”

“That’s so nice.” Her tone doesn’t suggest she actually thinks of it as nice, but she still presses a hand to her chest, feigning sincerity. “We couldn’t wait to meet you either, not after the way Steve talked about you.” The boy in question bristles at the comment, silently begging his mother not to reveal what he had actually said. “But if you’re unwell, you should really get some rest.”

“You are so right, mom,” Steve agrees readily, arm moving to wrap around your shoulder. “I know you’re disappointed, baby, but we should go.”

“Oh,” you say, back of your hand rising to rest against your forehead, “I guess you’re right.” You’re eager to go now, but do your best to sound reluctant, sad. “I’m so sorry we can’t stay for dinner.”

The goodbyes are brief and hurried, you have to resist the urge to run out the door, only fully relaxing once you and Steve are safely outside. “God, Steve,” you sigh, shaking your head. “They’re really awful.”

He can’t help it, he laughs. “I really should have warned you, huh?”

“Your father, I just...” You trail off, unable to even put it into words.

“Don’t worry about it, sweetheart. You were great in there, by the way.” He would be forever in your debt, you saved him from monumental embarrassment. “It’s still kinda early, I think I can get us in at Enzo’s. You know, if you want.”

Your nose scrunches up and you shake your head. “Let’s just go get ice cream.”

“No way,” he protests. “You need actual food.” A lecture you’d received from Steve more times than you could count. He was always making sure you ate, that you were hydrated, that you slept well.

It was nice to be looked after but that was not what you were after now.

“You said anything I want...”

How could he argue with his own words?

“I guess I did, huh? Let’s get you that ice cream then, pretty girl. You definitely earned it.”

Maybe tomorrow after the soft touches, the pet names and the kind words things would be awkward. Maybe your concerns were valid and a line had actually been crossed, maybe things would be different. But that was a problem for another day.

For now, you were keen to sit with your friend in your fancy clothes, hip-to-hip enjoying two scoops of mint chocolate chip.

—

#steve harrington #stranger things #steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington imagine #stranger things imagine #stranger things x reader #stranger things x you

2K notes · View notes

ultimateshixiongfuckertournament · 3 months

Text

Noncanonicals Tournament FINAL

This final is between Han Ying from Word of Honor (shizun/mentor: Zhou Zishu) and Fang Duobing from Mysterious Lotus Casebook (shizun/mentor: Li Xiangyi / Li Lianhua)

Propaganda under the cut! (Warning: Propaganda may include spoilers about the characters and their media)

Han Ying:

He idolized and was mentored by Zhou Zishu to the point of recruiting other young martial artists to revive ZZS’s dying sect and willing to die live happily ever after for it.

#han ying wants to fuck zhou zishu SO BAD#han ying#shizunfucker tournament

#my sweet ying'er wants to fuck zzs so bad he's gagging for it

#HAN YING HANDS DOWN#would have licked his boots if he asked

#han ying wanted nothing more than to officially become zzs's student/part of his sect#it was literally his dying wish that his brothers in arms may get to do that#he says several times in the show to zzs's very face that he's 100% down for dying for him#he swears allegiance EXCLUSIVELY to zzs and not the prince they're all serving#he comes up with bangers like 'if there is anything you need I will lay down my life with no regret'#'if you were gone one day how could I live alone'#'a loyal servant wouldn't have two masters in his life'#he sneaks into zzs's abandoned residence and homoerotically-#-strokes the painting of a flower that symbolizes a) zzs himself b) zzs's grief for being the lone survivor of his sect#and he wanted to join siji so so badly#it was his life's dream and he died IN siji but before getting to have that 😭#listen he makes me insane#anyway they should have fucked sloppy style and zzs would have had an out of body experience if hy called him shizun#my final thesis goodbye

#it's HAN YING#you could power entire nations with the power of that yearning

#han ying saw zhou zishu and IMMEDIATELY dropped to his knees are you joking#wen kexing immediately clocked him

#ying'er my sweet prince#he wants the dick so badly

Fang Duobing:

Fang Duobing has most definitely had several fantasies of being dommed by his shifu Li Xiangyi! He is also equally invested in marrying Li Lianhua - travelling the jianghu, going on rooftop moonlit dates, incorporating looking after him forever and ever into his general future plans. This is even before he knows that Li Lianhua and Li Xiangyi are the same person. Oh there are Layers to the shizunfucking. Where's that post about being so devoted to someone that it breaks the pedestal they're put on and comes full circle to loving them for the person they are? (its here: https://www.tumblr.com/difeisheng/733133489565745152/the-core-of-fanghua-is-built-around-fang-duobings) When they finally do get to know each other 10 years later, after Li Xiangyi's identity is found out, Fang Duobing insists on being equals rather than master-and-disciple! Li lianhua is Fang Duobing’s guide in the Jianghu! He leaves his house, dog and the only records of his unique martial arts to Fang Duobing before running away!! Fang Duobing’s most important agenda is to save Li Lianhua from slow death by poison!!! He doesn't care if Li Lianhua keeps leaving him behind and lying to him and is 'at peace' with dying!! They live together. They'll never be equals. They've been equals all along. They're zhiji. They're master and disciple. they're married. They're everything.

#this man wanted to fuck his shizun under two whole ass different identities#this man was given one million choices between his shizun and his entire cushy rich boi life and did not sweat the decision even once#this man was engaged to a princess - who was COOL - and went “no thanks i’d rather follow shizun around in a fantasy china airstream’

#this cannot not be fang duobing let's be serious#polls#he's been drawing hearts around his shizun's name since age 8

#Fang Duobing going through it for what he thinks is two different people but is just one guy#so he gets my vote easy

#pls he is head employee at shizunfucker.co

#han ying #fang duobing #word of honor #mysterious lotus casebook #zhou zishu #li lianhua #li xiangyi

141 notes · View notes

ivorryskies · 5 months

Note

i need soulmate AU Dazai x fem!reader

The soulmate can be match up however you'd like, btw if you like angst you can make it ansty but I'd like the ending to be fluff!!

Tysm!

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷summary: when all hope is lost in the midst of the darkness there is light...but what if that life was a person?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷pairings: Dazai x fem!reader (soulmate au)

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷warnings: angst/fluff, mentions of torture, mentions of killing, abit of gore?

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷Felix's note: omg! I love this i was going to make a soulmate AU this is perfect! I hope you like it! sorry i took too long I was giving midterms <3 heart divider by: @cafekitsune <3 w.c: 1.1k

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

it was weird.

was it an ability? a disease? who knew. There was this thing going around in Yokohama about soulmates. There were a lot of symptoms and one by one you felt them. All of them.

┊┊.number 1: the closer you are the warmer you get.

you heard people outside the agency through the window talking about how cold they were feeling all the time. Saying its sad that their soulmate has to be so far. But you. You were always warm. While they were wearing sweaters to protect them from hypothermia. You were doing the opposite.

"what wrong angel, need to take your mind off me~" Dazai teased.

"you wish" you sighed and went back to your report. "and for the record I have a name so consider using it."

he chuckled and strolled away. You felt a warm feeling when he talked to you. Nothing out of the ordinary. This was going on since months. Nothing you couldn't brush off.

┊┊.number 2: you feel their pain. physically.

"OUCH!" you hissed.

Immediately Naomi came to help "oh my gosh whats wrong are you okay!?" she held you for support. "is it the soulmate thing?!"

"did he just get punched in the gut or something?!". You couldn't help but feel cold. Dazai was missing for a few days now ever since he went out. The agency could care less. You could care less. But you couldn't help but feel drawn to him. His silly jokes. His teasing. The day felt empty without hi. Maybe you should go looking for him. He's Dazai after all. Probably got all busted up by the mafia. (yes, yes he did)

┊┊.number 3: the first thing they thought about when they saw you appears on your arm and only goes away once you fall inlove with eachother

"look at hers!" the agency were busy pointing to other peoples arms which was clearly readable. You looked with them. Amazed by this. Also distraught by some things that were written. You checked your watch for the time and...wait...was this there?

'pretty eyes'

you turned red and desperately attempted to cover it with you sleeve and sat down trying to calm yourself. Kunnikida noticed and asked "are you okay?"

"yeah, yeah im fine" you hid your face in your hands. until Ranpo screamed.

"her soulmate thinks she has pretty eyes!". Ofcourse you couldn't hide it. Everyone gasped and some laughed. They ran to you to see the imprint up close. Dazai stood in the back looking at a mark he got not too long ago 'flirt'. He had already figured it out. He figured it out ever since he felt warm around you.

He loved you. But did you love him? Was he your soulmate? This thing tells you your soulmate but never guarantees them being your soulmate? He didn't deserve a soulmate. After all hes done. He deserved to die alone. You had another soulmate. And he would be left alone. Just like he thought. He sighed turned around and left.

┊┊.number 4: your dreams are their memories.

you woke up with a tear stained face. Breathing heavy. A nightmare. A very bad one. You were in the mafia? But you have always been in the agency? You weren't the one getting tortured but. You were torturing them? You've been having these nightmares alot. Sometimes the boss was manipulating you. Sometimes you were killing.

Why were you having these dreams. You would never kill someone. That innocent man had such a traumatized face and you killed him in the most brutal way ever. You made him bite the stairs. You smashed his jaw. And shot him thrice. A mafia traitors punishment. But why were you seeing it? Who would do such a thing? This is why you swore to never join the mafia.

┊┊.number 5: you feel what they feel, but this time emotionally

you always felt drained. You hated this? You aren't like this. You never felt anything now. There was this constant guilt in your chest. You never felt empathy now when you were on missions. You were distressed that you weren't feeling anything. This isn't you. Why was this happening. Oh. Your soulmate. That made you sadder at the thought. The thought that your soulmate goes through this everyday. You want to see him. Hug him. This is terrible, someone feeling like this. Who could deal with this?

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

A month had passed like this, Everything was the same. Except Dazai had changed. He didn't flirt with you, he didn't even talk to you. He even avoided talking you with him on a mission. Why is he acting like this. Its really bugging you.

Now that you thought about it. You did the same. Avoided him. Never spent time with him. Never offered to do anything for him. It was like now you two had the same personality and did the same thing. It was a silent mutual agreement that happened you don't even remember when. Did it even happen? Why did it happen even if it did.

Now you crossed eachothers paths like you don't know one another.

Like right now. You were outside getting some stuff and he was out to do you don't know what but you saw him walking infront of you. Without a hi, without a hello, no how are you you walked right past eachother. Just like you always di-

┊┊.number 6: and when things will be lost a red string will connect you two that will never break.

You turned around and looked at him. He did the same. Your eyes pen wide. His breathing stopped. A red string on your pinky that connected to his finger. You looked at the string and looked at him. He did the same. You dropped whatever was in your hands and ran to him and hugged him. He didn't say anything but hugged you back. Those dreams were his memories, those feelings were what he felt, you felt warm because he was near. He was the one who thought you had pretty eyes.

"im so..sorry..." you whispered in between sniffles.

he smiled and pat your head soothing you hair and kissed your forehead. " You don't have to be, im sorry too"

"if only i could i would absorb your pain and return it to you as love -louise kaufmann" you said and smiled at him

"its you...it was always you" he whispered.

and thats why with pain and suffering comes rest in the end.

⋇⊶⊰❣⊱⊷⋇

#bsd imagine #bsd #bsd scenarios #dazai x reader #bungo stray dogs #bungo stray dogs x reader #dazai osamu #bsd dazai #dazai imagine #bungou stray dogs dazai #bsd imagines #angst with a happy ending

164 notes · View notes

utilitycaster · 2 months

Note

Hi there, I saw in one of your tags recently that "if you think the raven queen was being unfair, I'm not really interested in your opinions." I was wondering if you could talk a little more about that because I'll be honest, Vax isn't my favorite character but I've seen all of C1 and I really don't get why some people HATE the RQ, call her unfair, manipulative and pretty plainly say this moon conflict is mostly her fault because she took Vax and through a Domino effect Ludinus is releasing Predathos. Also, I enjoy your theories and analysis for CR so much you got me listening to Midst, so thank you.

Hi anon,

Great question! This is going to be a very long post, with a relatively short initial answer, because there is both the literal misinterpretation that indicates this is not someone with strong analytical skills nor knowledge of canon, and a number of potential mindsets that lead to this manner of thinking in the first place, none of which I respect. You happen to have sort of hit upon the foundational elements of my whole deal re: CR meta, so, buckle in.

The first part is simple: Vex died because Percy triggered a trap before she'd been healed up. We've seen this sort of trap elsewhere in non-divine contexts (Folding Halls of Halas); it's just a form of trap. A particularly nasty one, but this is for a very powerful relic she doesn't want falling into the wrong hands, and, moreover, the party could have likely disabled it either through rogue skills or magic had Percy waited. Vax, then, as the third part of the resurrection ritual, told the Raven Queen to take him instead of Vex. The Raven Queen did precisely as he asked. He did not need to offer this (Scanlan was going to make an offering, the other parts of the ritual had gone well, it was Vex's first death so the DC was low, and Vax could have made any number of other, less dramatic offers), and he did so with the understanding that he would die in lieu of Vex, right then and there. He did not. I think that's the only case, actually, where the Raven Queen was not 100% upfront with her intentions before Vax accepted something; but he offered it voluntarily. Vax was a person who formed extremely intense connections, to the point where it was perhaps unhealthy, and did not believe life without his sister was worth living, and was willing to sacrifice himself to a god.

Everything after that was extremely straightforward. Vax communed with the Raven Queen, who spoke very directly with him in his vision in the Raven's Crest. She was extremely clear when she met with him following his disintegration: he was given the option to refuse her offer, and he took it instead. It is not manipulative to give someone a difficult decision, and if a character you like makes a choice you don't like, it is not automatically the result of manipulation.

As for the moon conflict being her fault…that is, to put it bluntly, unhinged, and what's more, ironic given that that's the manipulative argument. Ludinus tried to commune with Ruidus using a random crystalline artifact beneath Molaesmyr, centuries before Vax was born. He was going to do this regardless. If he couldn't get Vax, he'd get some other sliver of divinity, and what's more, it's been all but stated that Vax is not actually supposed to be leaving the Shadowfell to protect Keyleth, and is disobeying the Raven Queen directly (and it's been stated that this isn't necessarily helpful for Keyleth, who is trying to grieve and move on). So: Vax made his choices with the knowledge of what they entailed, is trying to bend if not break the conditions to which he agreed with full knowledge in a way that probably isn't healthy for him or Keyleth, and it's bananas to be like "wow look at how the Raven Queen made Ludinus try to free Predathos." Like. Even if she had tricked Vax, which she didn't, Ludinus literally could have just kept on his racist imperialistic longevitymaxxing beat indefinitely and left the moon well enough alone. The domino meme is a meme. I mean, while we're at it, couldn't we trace it back to Vecna instead, for killing Vax with Disintegrate in the first place, since had he not done so, Vax would have either survived that fight or would have been resurrected normally? Or perhaps it's Percy for triggering that trap. Or the Chroma Conclave for being the reason why Vox Machina was seeking the Deathwalker's Ward in the first place…but that only happened because Allura and Kima didn't kill Thordak but rather sealed him, and because a priestess of Melora cursed Raishan so that she had reason to ally with Thordak. We can go on indefinitely; the point is, to assign blame specifically to the Raven Queen when Ludinus literally did not have to do a goddamn thing with the moon is a fucking stupid take.

Below the cut, I talk root causes behind why people might decide the Raven Queen was unfair and come up with the above nonsensical argument to support that, since I don't think people say stupid things just to be stupid.

I think one root cause for this mentality of this is that the person in question wishes Vax hadn't died and is looking for someone to blame because they don't want to blame Matt Mercer and Liam O'Brien, even though yeah, that's who to blame. The thing is, as we learned in Campaign 2, character death is quite literally on the table. Had Vax not made his bargain, either in episode 1x103 or his original one during Vex's resurrection? He might have simply remained dead. Had he not given his life for Vex's, he was pursuing paladin anyway with the Everlight, and we don't know what she'd have required of him. But more importantly, for all people like to bring up a PC-centric perspective (which, in Actual Play, is inevitable) Vox Machina's frequent use of resurrection spells was in fact a massive privilege most people in Exandria do not have. And, unsurprisingly for a table whose DM made up rules specifically to make resurrection more difficult, the Critical Role cast is open to a story where death exists. I do not think it's an accident that resurrection has been made even harder in the subsequent campaigns. I also happen to think that Campaign 1 is a far richer and better story with Vax's death, given the other events that occurred. Had Vax not been the sort of person who would offer his life for a god to take in exchange for his sister? Sure, he'd possibly have lived to the end. But he was, and that's the character those people who wish he were still alive loved. If he wasn't that person, they wouldn't have liked him in the same way.

D&D is fundamentally about exceptional characters becoming more powerful, and will be focused on those characters. I do not think D&D supports a story about characters who reject all power. They can give up political power (the Mighty Nein, for the most part, do this - certainly more so than Vox Machina, and Bells Hells is yet to be seen) but they will progress in levels, which is power. Even if unwanted, it is power, because most people in the world are commoners with 5 HP and 10 in all their stats. With that said, a lot of people desperately want a subversion of this power narrative. Vax is, I think, the closest we get. In D&D you are not going to get a player character who finishes a campaign and remains Just Some Guy. But you can have someone like Vax, who doesn't have any interest in power (compare to Vex, who very much is about power and who gets a much happier ending) who nonetheless ends up on the Tal'Dorei Council and the favored of a god…and yet, in the end, his equally powerful friends still can do nothing to save him. I think a Power Bad story is overly simplistic, but "there are limits to power, and ultimately none of us have complete control" is not. I think Vax's death gives the story of Vox Machina a finality and heft that it would lack otherwise.

A second possible cause is the "What if the gods are BAD" argument. I'm going to be totally honest: I did not see this in the fandom until Campaign 3, and honestly, not until EXU Calamity in any widespread sense, which does lead me to believe that most people did not come up with it as a reasonable idea on their own until characters started saying it, because it is so plainly in conflict with the themes of Campaigns 1 and 2 that to make this argument would be obvious projection. Do I think a nuanced view of the gods as flawed beings, rather than perfection, is warranted? Absolutely. Mortals, too, are flawed, and we don't kill them all for it. I think Vax's story makes them uncomfortable because it makes it clear divine favor is not, as Ludinus Da'leth tries to argue, the gods just bestowing and withholding their gifts arbitrarily, but rather that divine favor comes with a divine responsibility as well. Clerics and paladins do not study the way wizards do; but they must live lives in service, whereas a wizard can shut the book at the end of the day and do whatever. Clerics and paladins have powers that can be taken away; a wizard does not. That's the fundamental concept behind the Age of Arcanum - wizards trying to get around the fundamental rules of this world! Vax's paladin powers came at a price. His options are guided, but also limited, by the oath he took. He is far more fettered than a wizard, in the end, and I think that fucks with the narrative of the gods cruelly withholding their gifts from all but a select few, so they instead make their gifts into manipulative punishments…while still, contradictorily, arguing that characters such as Laudna or Ashton or Imogen were denied the mercy of the gods. Now, setting aside the obvious, that these characters have their backstories because Marisha and Taliesin and Laura decided they would because this is a story, and one in which someone had a perfect life would be boring and so the gods didn't intervene with Laudna because Marisha Ray wanted to play a Sun Tree corpse (see next section), it really is fascinating to see how people who hate the Raven Queen so neatly align with Ludinus. It's fine for sorcerers to have inborn powers, apparently, and Ludinus actually has himself tried to ape druidic magic; it's not about power, it's just about that power source. Honestly, they're not even above the gods as a power source - Ludinus used the crystal beneath Molaesmyr seemingly unaware if it were of the Archheart, and he's demonstrably using Vax, and everyone loves a resurrection from the gods, but heaven forbid you pay someone for the work you feel yourself entitled to. (Entitlement: this will also be a theme throughout the rant portion of this post.)

As a brief subsection to this: the idea that bad things happen to good people because the other side of that coin is free will is an ancient theological and philosophical discussion, and one we are obviously not going to solve here, though it is a little depressing I have had multiple rewarding conversations on this topic, thanks to an academically rigorous religious education, starting from the tender age of 9, and a lot of adults on Tumblr seemingly can't engage on the level of my third-grade classmates. I think, however, it tells a truth that fits in well with the wizard (and entitled fan) desire to control everything. People are terrified of random forces. Cancer, for example, is a matter of probability. There are things that can increase your chances of developing cancer, to be sure, but the simile I used when I was taught about radiation-induced cancers was that of lottery tickets: if you buy more, you have a better chance; but sometimes someone who bought a single ticket "wins" and someone who bought a ticket weekly never does. By believing the gods of Exandria are on trial for not intervening with every little hardship or for not taking Vax precisely as he intended, they reveal a profound terror of random chance and of the free will of people who are not them. Which is very funny when you consider we're watching Actual Play, where random chance is a deliberately induced element. I think the takeaway of all of this is "I think some of you guys are really mad this is a D&D game." But let's continue.

The third, and honestly most likely cause, is honestly sort of a continuation of the first but not centered around Vax so much as just a general, in my opinion deeply childish discomfort of any sort of tragedy or unhappiness in fiction. I've noticed this a lot lately, and I am not a cultural critic and don't have a high enough level view to pretend to be one, but as others have noted a lot of people seem affronted when whatever show they are currently watching does not meet their specific standards of "comfort media" or "hopepunk." It's a self-infantilization I don't care for, and it's certainly not limited to the CR fandom (see: any grown-ass adult passionately defending a choice to only watch children's cartoons and only read YA) or even fandom at all (see: the baffling popularity of the Mr. Rogers "look for the helpers" line which was intended for anxious young children, not for adults who can and should be the helpers). It really came into focus for me with CR when people referred to both EXU Calamity and to Candela Obscura's Circle of Needle and Thread as specifically "hopeless." They are, to me, deeply hopeful series. They are sad, and tragic, and many characters do not get a happy ending, but they are ultimately about how some people will endure, and will live on and find meaning after great loss. Calamity explicitly states that because of the actions of the heroes, while devastation will occur, total annihilation is mitigated. It's like the adage of how courage only means something in the face of fear; hope only means something in the face of darkness. Happy and fluffy tales are not hopeful; they are merely not things that require you to have hope. The root word of catharsis is that of cleansing and purgation and it originally related to physical excretion - cathartic stories are about getting those complicated and ugly emotions and fears out and feeling better for it by briefly feeling, perhaps, worse! Now, again, this has worsened with Vax's story with time. Shortly after Campaign 1, it was very common to see stories where Vex or Keyleth were utterly distraught, indefinitely, but those at least were engaging with grief, even if in a very shallow and unproductive way. But this has morphed into this idea that the fact that a work of fiction might make you even feel sadness makes it bad, and wrong, and hopeless, and the machinations of a cruel and heartless god. Which brings me back to the entitlement narrative: it's really as simple as "the story didn't give me what I wanted (whether that was a happy ending for Vax, or for Keyleth, or just a lack of sadness generally, or a narrative about the gods that validates my personal beliefs, or a way to justify Ludinus's actions), so it is bad." Which again is about being in control of the narrative, which again, in D&D, is simply not something anyone can claim. Why are these people here watching a D&D game? I don't know.

So that's really it: on a basic level, if you think the Raven Queen is unfair, you are profoundly ignorant of canon, so I'm already going to have to fact check anything you cite (if you cite at all), but there's a much deeper refusal to meet stories where they are and expand one's own comfort zone at play, and that means any analysis will never consider the possibility that your pre-existing beliefs were wrong (absolutely crucial in meta). You will always play it too safe and be uninspired and reactionary because the alternative is uncertainty and fear. I think a refusal to embrace tragedy in fiction is itself a profound tragedy; that is someone who is terrified to believe that life goes on.

#answered #Anonymous #cr tag #long post #candela tag #ngl i'm torn about not maintagging this; kind of want to but it does go somewhat far from the original topic

128 notes · View notes

synodic-lupine · 9 months

Text

Nine and Ten's arcs go hand in hand as a collectively great PTSD narrative imo. I think Ten's wishy-washiness about relationships and inability to fully open up to Rose is often characterized as plain old fear of commitment yet I see that as a progression to another presentation of PTSD. When we first meet Nine, he seems like he's halfway to planning on how to get himself killed. He meets Rose, he heals, he changes, he grows. Then he regenerates into someone with a desire to live and the seeming capacity to just be happy. At the same time, he regenerated for and because of Rose. Recovery that hinges on one person is a tricky thing. When you're with that person it can feel like there's no more work to be done, like you're totally 'fixed'. Every moment with that person feels like the best thing in the world... which makes it significantly harder to open up about anything trauma related. When you're feeling high on a person's presence why would you ever want to think about the bad things? THEN because he finally properly wants to live, The Doctor gets hit with the realization that living a full life means losing Rose in the end and it's downright intolerable to him. It makes him push and pull and act like a bastard sometimes. We get glimpses of who he is without her in the moments when she's threatened. He loses his damn mind any time she's threatened- he gets that crazed look akin to Nine in Dalek more than anything. This is also in contrast to how Nine used to react to Rose being threatened, where he used to still be able to keep it reined in. THEN... he loses her for real and he backslides majorly. We see the effects in Turn Left, that if Donna hadn't been there he would have died right after saying goodbye to Rose. He's more or less back where he started as Nine in the beginning of series one, looking for a way to die. He lives though, and has to accept that no, he's not perfectly recovered and keep on working on it. He opens up about things in ways we saw him struggle to in series 2. Though he's more callous in series 3 and 4, he seems to struggle more with relating to humans, his bastardous tendencies pop up more. He's also a freaking disaster man in series 4 with the number of times he offers or tries to give up his life for others. He DOES make recovery progress through series 3 and 4, just is slow like in real life. All of that makes JE make sense to me in that this is a man who is experiencing turbo PTSD triggering. He pushes everyone away all at once, because maybe being alone will hurt less than losing people after all. Even after all that in the end when he is dying he says he doesn't want to go. He was born into wanting to live and be happy so of course he doesn't want to go.

#doctor who #ninth doctor #tenth doctor #rose tyler #9th doctor #10th doctor #timepetals #there's a lot more nuance to this than I had energy to write about rn #but regeneration as ptsd recovery story is so interesting to me in general #bc it literally does/can feel like you have to become a whole new person #and it's so so easy to hinge it all on one person or thing that makes life worth living #ten is a somewhat toxic mess #and i love him for it #he's a bastard who is also trying his damn best

301 notes · View notes

mtkay13 · 1 year

Text

-你身上有光 dyptich-

BACK AGAIN with more "Light on you" stuff! I really can't let go of this passage, haha. And I have A LOT MORE TO SAY so Let's go! (LONG post ahead)

This post will contain:

my own attachment and what I love in this scene

what lead me to depict them like this

a personal translation of the passage in the book

But to begin with, a little something about storytelling. In order to help writers, some "storytelling rules" have been set up and theorised about. Those rules are, of course, meant to be broken, and one does not need to follow them in order to write a good story; but during the storytelling course I followed, a few of those rules have stuck with me, especially this one:

The main character, the hero of the story, will be the one to shine or to "save the day" in the end.

Again--does this rule need to be respected for a good story? Not necessarily, but when struggling with how to manage an ending or a main character, it can be helpful.

Anyway. For me, this scene, the "there's light on you" scene, kind of is that scene--that one scene where ZZS is the main character, is the hero. TYK has an interesting story structure, where if you go by the book of typical wuxia stories, ZCL would be the main character; and if you look at whom goes through the biggest internal journey throughout the story, it would be WKX. ZZS's own story technically spans across both QY and TYK, which makes TYK a bit more about WKX's journey than ZZS'.

But that very scene is not only ZZS saving WKX, but also ZZS reaching the conclusion of his own journey. By the end of QY, ZZS didn't go and meet with Jiuxiao. He deliberately looked the other way, too scared to go check on him, too superstitious; and in the end, Jiuxiao died. TYK puts ZZS in a similar position: someone he loves is away, and the choice to go reach them is in his hands. He decided to respect WKX's wish to go and fight his own battle alone, yet he ultimately went against it, changed and moved on from who he was in QY, to go and fight by WKX's side.

It's no surprise that I'm very into ZZS, and this image of him bathed in light, beating the scorpion to his own game and "taking back" this main character spot... It makes me go insane. Not to mention all the incredible quotes of this passage. "His person"? "There's light on you"? Come on!! I'm also. Obsessed with how and what WKX saw. What he must have felt, as he was ready to die, when he saw his person, his husband, dashingly get rid of all the enemies, almost at the peak of his power, come and "collect his corpse"--save him? Just!! Imagine!!! Imagine being WKX and this is how it ends!!! You're the GVM, you've had the life you've had, you finally meet someone that you truly love, the guy's about to die, then maybe not, AND THEN HE COMES TO SAVE YOUR LIFE AGHHHH 😭😭😭 Sorry, I REALLY like this. REALLY.

-------

cough--So, about their expressions and what I wanted to represent. For ZZS, to me... it was a mix of closure, fondness, and satisfaction. I think that ZZS had a "good time", going back to who he was before: tailing the scorpions, going undercover, ambushing from the shadows--not to mention slowly retrieving his full power. I think that this ZZS feels quite good, especially now that he got the confirmation that WKX is still alive. Then, the feeling of having done "the right thing". He's... beyond regret, now. He was able to follow his heart, quite literally, and that also feels good. The fondness is of course because he's looking at WKX. What else is he supposed to feel?? They haven't met for 3 months! I think that he's worried, but they trust each other. He trusts that WKX will survive this, that he'll be strong, that he won't die on him. So yeah. I wanted this ZZS confident--in himself, in WKX, in the future. WKX is a bit dazed, there. Probably in pain, and a bit stunned as he wasn't expecting it. But he's also... a bit enthralled; by this light, by how impressive and efficient his husband is, and, of course, the fact that ZZS came for him. The person he loves, the person whose life matters more than everything else now that WKX has reached his goal, came for him, came to save him. This stupid guy came for him instead of going to the mountain to prepare on his own. Yet another blatant show of them being so alike, isn't it? I guess... it's just a lot of love, a bit of pride, the faintest hint of him being amused, even--and maybe relief, as well. He won't die, and ZZS is there, and he's strong, and again, like for ZZS, there's a future--which he never allowed himself to properly consider, I believe. -------- Finally, a personal retranslation of that scene. I did it not because I thought it really needed it but because the only existing TL of this part of the book doesn't allow for reposting and I figured I may as well try. So for anyone who doesn't remember the passage or hasn't read the book/reached this chapter, here it is!

The Scorpion raised his hand and was immediately handed a weapon. His smile vanished as he looked at Wen Kexing leaning against the tree, already quite injured. He said: “For someone like the Ghost Lord, I must act in person—it would be quite disrespectful to get someone else to do the job.”

As he spoke, he raised his hook across his chest and approached slowly. He continued in a low voice: “I invite the Ghost Lord to walk ahead on the Yellow Spring road.”

He then fell silent, raising the hook higher and higher. Wen Kexing opened his eyes, quietly looking at him, his pitch-black irises like two dark pools of murky water, calm as if he wasn’t the one about to die.

The Scorpion suddenly felt a violent gush of wind surging from the side, charged with killing intent—electrified by an aura of death, goosebumps rising on his skin, he shouted as he lifted his hook in the air and promptly sliced through—the assailant was wearing the black robes of the scorpions, but didn’t wear a mask, had a soft blade in hand—he swiftly avoided the hook; a sudden, sharp pain made the Scorpion cry out as the soft blade wrapped around his arm which, at once, was ripped from his body and fell to the ground.

The several scorpions standing behind their leader immediately assumed a tactical formation—but then, a dashing figure, a metallic chime, and they all stood, dazzled; one swift move for it to be settled: one man standing, several men on the ground. Whether they were dead or alive, all of those who layed still were missing the arm holding their weapon.

Wen Kexing recognised the man. He abruptly sighed, and said in a low voice: “Idiot, what are you doing here?”

Zhou Zishu threw him a side glance and sneered: “I came to collect your corpse, madman.”

The effects of the Nails of seven apertures and three autumns were suppressed by the medicine Da Wu had given Zhou Zishu, and at that moment his gong fu had been restored to nine parts of its peak capacity. If the Scorpion already wasn’t on par should they have a fair fight, then he didn’t stand a chance when ambushed from the shadows.

Zhou Zishu turned to the Scorpion, the pointed end of Baiyi slightly angled down, and he sharply asked: “You dare threaten my person?”

A bit stunned, Wen Kexing watched the back of the man standing in front of him, and slight shivers started coursing through his fingers resting on the ground.

The Scorpion’s face was deathly pale, yet he still managed to smile and painfully say: “Ah… Brother Zhou, my apologies, I didn’t expect you to honour us with your presence.”

He briefly gauged the two men, waving his remaining hand: “Great master, we won’t counter any further. We bid you farewell———retreat!”

The few scorpions that were still alive crawled and scrambled to their feet and hurriedly followed the Scorpion as he withdrew. Zhou Zishu didn’t try to follow and just turned around to face and look at Wen Kexing.

Wen Kexing’s eyes shone brightly, but he simply chuckled: “You should be more careful for…”

Before he could finish, Zhou Zishu’s eyes focused, he swiftly twirled, the blade that was in his hand suddenly split through the air in a beautiful arch—a tinkling sound as it hit something, and soon enough a muffled groan rose from the woods behind them. Zhou Zishu shook his head and sighed: “Using the same move against the same person twice—are all these scorpions merely one trick ponies? And they dare claim to be on par with Siji manor?”

Wen Kexing watched him, slightly dazed. His mouth curved into a smile as he suddenly extended his hand in the air, trying to catch something.

Zhou Zishu frowned and asked: “What are you doing?”

Wen Kexing said softly: “There’s light… on your body. I’m catching it to see…”

Thanks for reading!

#tian ya ke #zhou zishu #wen kexing #tyk #zzs #wkx #wenzhou #meta #thoughts

476 notes · View notes