#and i form a small hatred and fear of seeing that person again. even though it was FINE!!

[sunfyresrider]

Queen of Reeds

Synopsis: Gaella was not happy to come back for the reason she did and was even less happy when the first person to greet her was an uncle with one eye. It didn't stop there, he seemed to show up at every corner. An enemy to despise, that's what Gaella was taught to see him. However, it is said that hatred is the closest thing to love.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon (strong) OC warnings: enemies to lovers if you squint, descriptions of violence, name calling and insults, OC is childish, NSFW (smut), Aemond pretending he isn't a simp. word count: 8,000+ note: repost for the lovely @morasakura2023 I added some bits in and also if this does well, I'll make a part two.

It was the first time Gaella had been back to King’s landing since she was a child. It was by request of the king, her grandsire, to celebrate her upcoming name day. It was a huge deal because now she was old enough to wed. Or to be more precise, sold off. This was unbeknownst to her at the time of arrival, of course.  

Gaella had an issue with returning home. Her issue being a rather tall blonde with only one eye. In childhood she lurked and watched his every move and now, ten years later, she’s carefully maneuvering her way through the crowds watching him duel with Ser Criston. 

She followed him when she was young because she simply was curious about the youngest Hightower boy. Gaella overheard rumors of a betrothal so it made sense to try and find out more about him.

Now the reasons were far different. Aemond was, whether they liked it or not, the black's current biggest threat. Not only did he ride Vhagar but from what she was observing he was a rather skilled swordsman. No better than her, she trained herself to be the best. He was agile, precise and swung his sword with a purpose.

Her eyes roamed over his form. It was hard to admit, and she almost gagged at the thought, but he looked good, starkly different from the boy she knew. It seemed she wasn’t the only one to notice this. The few women of the court standing outside were practically swooning. It was gross in her humble opinion, to fawn over men, especially Aemond ‘one-eye’ Targaryen. 

Aemond thoroughly enjoyed when the crowd watched him and the mixed emotions that would form in the pit of their stomachs. The combination of admiration and fear drove him to excel in his daily lessons with Criston. Obviously, his constant need to prove himself did not falter over time though he tried to deny it. 

What he did not enjoy was the prying eyes of a bastard who thought her presence was going unnoticed. She stalked about the onlookers the same way she did at the funeral and the same way she did all the years she lived at the keep. Her fascination with him was creepy but expected considering how he had grown. The brat was probably envious of him and frightened at what he’s become.  

Good, that’s exactly what he wanted from them. He hoped his existence plagued her and her brothers minds every single day of their lives just like theirs plagued his own. It drove him to show off, to prove he was better than them all. 

He swiftly dodged Criston’s swing and aimed the tip of his blade at his opponent’s neck. The small crowd erupted into applause fueling his already enlarged ego. A subtle smirk carved its way onto his face. He peered over in the direction he assumed she was standing. His mouth opened, prepared to taunt her.

She had vanished. He let out an annoyed huff of air and took his position again. Aemond would have to wait to quarrel with her until later. 

-

Lucerys and Gaella were dragging their feet to the family supper. “Do you ever notice how uncle stares like he wishes to devour us whole?” Gaella spoke under her breath. “No. I avoid looking.” She let out a deep breath laced with apprehension. “I have this strange foreboding that this will not end well.” 

They stopped at the large double doors and stared at the cedar trim. Luke’s anxiety slowly seeped into her own skin. Their feet began to unconsciously move backwards. Until two large hands grabbed them both by the shoulders, nearly making them both fall forward. “Come on guys! We’re about to see our dear family again.” 

Jacaerys, the oversized puppy dog appeared from behind with a smile as vast as the sea. It annoyed her how well trained he was to keep face. It was good at pretending to like people and be nice. “Gael… Smile.” She turned to look at him and faked a grin.

The easy part of taking the first steps inside was over. Finding a seat that wasn’t directly across from her uncle was harder. It seemed they had forsaken her to be the one trapped in his view for the entire night. Aemond looked unbothered, too caught up in his own delusions of grandeur to notice her.

The king was well enough to attend supper though he had to be carried in by guards. He wasn’t as rotted as she thought, Viserys was lacking an arm, but his face remained intact. This did well to inspire everyone not to grab a knife and attempt to become a kinslayer. It didn’t change the fact the feast was riddled with tension. The Hightowers never liked Gaella or her brothers, nor did they like them. 

A short speech was given before they were permitted to eat. Nothing of substance, simply Viserys wishing them all good will and pleading with them to get along. The moment it ended; a nerve-wracking silence took over the room. Gaella’s eyes traveled between her mother and the queen, who were currently trying their best not to gaze at each other. Though, Alicent was failing desperately at this game. 

The only real sounds were coming from Aegon slurping his wine like a pig. The echoes of silverware clattering on plates and Helaena mumbling to herself. It was unbearably awkward but not as bad as the eye contact, she was holding with Aemond. He didn’t falter, not even to eat the food on his plate. When he drank his wine, his eye looked over the glass into her own. 

It was as if he was trying to intimidate her in the middle of a dinner party. “Uncle.” Gaella uttered with a slight nod of her head. It was her best attempt at breaking his unbearable gape. “Niece.” Aemond didn't nod, only kept staring unamused by the view. 

“Are you excited, sweet girl?” Viserys smiled softly at her. Gaella furrowed her eyes in confusion but still tried to smile back. “I’m afraid I don’t know what for.” Rhaenyra patted her father’s hands. She hadn’t told her yet, but it was clear she would not enjoy it by the breath her mother exhaled. “We are having a celebration to give you the chance to look at suitors. Much like what I did for your mother.” 

Her face dropped into a frown, “suitors?” Gaella choked out a laugh, “why would I look for that?” Rhaenyra glanced around the table and took in account who was there. She didn’t want to cause a scene in front of the extended family, It was none of their business in the first place. Solidarity was important to show in the face of potential enemies. 

“Yes, the king did do something similar for me which is how I met your father, Laenor.” Aegon rolled his eyes and sank into his cups. Aemond withheld a chuckle aching to escape his throat at the mere mention of Laenor. Gaella knew what they were thinking before he said it. ‘Strong bastards’ 

 “I have no interest in a husband but thank you grandsire. That’s very kind of you,” she spoke flatly. “It is past time you explore your options, love. You are blessed to be able to have a choice.” Gaella’s gaze momentarily traveled to poor Helaena and her wastrel of a husband. Rhaenyra tried to smile through her words and speak with her eyes: not here, we can do this later. Her glances fell on blind, childish eyes. 

Her sympathy quickly dissipated, she didn’t want to be Helaena or Alicent or Aemma or her own mother. “You wish to sell me like some broodmare!” Gaella’s voice echoed across the table. Anger issues, a trait she inherited from her biological father. A trait Jacaerys also shared but hid behind a masterfully crafted facade. The room stilled, as they all stared at her in awe. Except Aemond, who was biting the inside of his cheeks trying not to grin. 

“You can’t spend the rest of your years alone. I only wish for you to be happy-” It mattered not, she preferred solitude anyway. Gaella scoffed, “And you think sending me to some Lord will make me happy?” Rhaenyra firmly placed her hands down atop the table, “It is your duty.” Gaella pushed her chair out, nearly spilling wine all over poor Lucerys who flinched at the sudden movements. “Why is that? Why can’t I be a knight and die in battle.” 

“That is enough, Gaella.” Rhaenyra spoke in a stern voice. “I am not a whore to breed some man heirs!” Her mother slammed her firsts on the table, and Aegon choked on his drink. Lucerys sank low in his chair and Jacaerys avoided eye contact. “Go to your room… now!” Gaella stumbled back; her eyes threatened to well with tears. She quickly turned on her heels and stormed off.

____________________________________

Aemond watched from a corner of the yard as Gaella furiously swung her sword at the straw dummy and cursed below her breath. It was past time for a normal lady to be in bed. Then again, as she showcased tonight at supper Gaella was no lady. She was more like a feral cat used to catch mice.

It irked him to no end how easily she casted aside duty and so blatantly disrespected her elders with no punishment. He was glad to see one of the bastards finally lose something, but the show was beginning to become pathetic. Her movements were sloppy, and the dummy was all but beaten to rubbish. 

“You would be a shit knight.” She flinched at the voice, and her eyes widened at the sight of him. For just one moment she looked to be an innocent girl, a doe caught in a hunter's trap. Aemond’s shoulders released the tension for a moment, she was still a brat but maybe there was still hope for her. 

“That would still be a better one than you could ever be.” Gaella’s eyebrows furrowed and the grip on her blade tightened. He was reminded, once again, no bastard was innocent. His blood began to boil beneath his skin like a dragon’s. The tension in his body swiftly returned. 

 Aemond strode towards her, but she did not falter. She raised her chin to meet his gaze as they stood mere inches apart. “Hmm what would your father say about your skills, Lady Strong? I heard he was quite the knight in his time.” Gaella stepped closer, unfazed by the vicious insults. “He would be proud I still had both eyes.” 

Gaella was tossing and turning in bed trying to drown out the sounds of a dragon outside when Jacaerys rushed in. “Wake up! Wake up! Someone stole Vhagar.” She pushed her brother’s face away and sat up slowly. “It’s too late, wait until tomorrow.” He anxiously moved in place, “Come on! What if they’re not here by tomorrow.” She let out a tired sigh, “if they stole Vhagar surely they’ll be here to gloat when the sun rises.” 

Jace groaned, “fine! I’ll handle it myself.” She smiled to herself, “good luck with that!” Gaella sank back down into her pillow and listened to the quiet noises of Driftmark. If only she knew what would happen, she might have gotten out of bed. 

 “I could change that, Strong.” Aemond leaned over her, and his breath heated her skin. Her thoughts drifted from the threat of violence and to his form. The light from the moon perfectly outlined his figure, he could be considered handsome… Until you realized he was a snake. She stood higher on her toes, so their faces nearly connected. A pathetic display of dominance from the both of them. “I’d like to see you try.” 

Gaella and Aemond's eyes were riddled with hate as they glared at each other. Neither noticed that they both had gripped their weapons tighter preparing for the other to strike. Their breaths beat heavy against each other’s skin, and the air grew cold around them. “Spoiled brat.” His words seeped out his lips like venom. “Insolent cunt.” Her words spewed out of her mouth like dragon fire. 

The world around them faded away. It was a waiting game to see who broke first, who would elicit the other to unsheathe their weapons. Gaella and Aemond were frozen in place as their chests nearly pressed against each other as their breaths quickened with anticipation. They could feel the tension in the air, the hate between them still strong like an unshakeable force while an unfamiliar sensation seemed to ripple through their bodies. There was a feeling of immediacy and yet neither would make a move. Though the hate between them remained, a small trace of something else was growing inside them, something that was unknown to them before. 

“Gaella! It’s time to go to bed.” Jacaerys yelled from atop the stairwell. She pulled back and her fury melted away, the trance she was in dissolved immediately. “Coming!” Gaella didn't even turn back to the prince; she simply took off towards her brother. Now it was Aemond who stormed off, cursing underneath his breath like a child who couldn’t get their way. The bastards always found a way to get under his skin and ruin his peace, she proved to be no different.

____________________________________

The day before the tournament Gaella decided to spend her energy reading. It was a peaceful past time she had come to love in recent years. She wouldn’t admit it out loud, but it felt nice to be smarter than everyone because of what she read. The contents she was reading now were especially important for tomorrow.

Aemond was in a rather shit mood. Alicent had turned into a worried mess he had to take care of, Aegon disappeared into Fleabottom and he had to go and drag him back and Criston wouldn’t get off his back because he wanted him to train for a tournament, he refused to participate in. All Aemond wanted was to find a little peace.

The library was his favorite place of solitude. It was a time where he could dive into his studies with no interruptions from bastards or wastrels or disheveled adults. As he walked inside his face dropped into one of displeasure upon seeing her sitting in the library. Aemond’s jaw clenched, and he prayed to the seven for a little more patience. Could he not have a moment to himself? 

Gaella glanced up at the source of the interruption. Her annoyance quickly grew at the sight of the displeased expression on the face of the one-eyed prince. Gaella decided she wasn’t going to give him the time of day and shoved the book closer into her face. 

Aemond scoffed and stepped closer, quarreling with her was the closest thing he had to peace today. He was mildly curious about what book she was reading. He always believed she was too dull or lazy to read. In his mind the most she could manage was a fantasy book for children. As he moved closer It became painfully clear she wasn’t reading and was instead waiting for him to do something. 

He elected to ignore her and search for his own book. The silence in the room was overwhelming as he glanced through the books. Gods, she annoyed him to no end. You would think she would leave once I was here, he thought to himself. Aemond wasn’t really looking, merely pretending until she got the hint to leave. 

Gaella peered out from behind her book and saw him standing staring at the shelf. Was he even looking for anything or talking to himself? She slammed her book shut and moved next to him to be rid of her own book. Occasionally she glanced up at him wondering what he was staring at. 

Aemond tightened his jaw once he felt her move next to him. He could feel her eyes burning into his skin from below him. It was too much; her presence was bothering him too much. 

“I didn’t expect you to know how to read.” Gaella rolled her eyes, “Are you stalking me or is it a coincidence you keep stumbling upon my private time?” Aemond moved so he was standing behind her. He plucked a book off a shelf too high for her to reach and brought it down to his chest. “Is it a coincidence you are always in the places I frequent?” 

His breath tantalizingly caressed her neck, making her body flush as if thousands of butterflies flitted around inside her chest. His presence felt like a cocoon of warmth against her back, comforting yet strangely intimidating, it filled her with a longing for something more she couldn't quite understand. “Maybe we have more in common than we’d care to admit.” 

She turned so her back was against the bookshelf and her gaze rose to his own. He stared at her expressionless, “hmm I doubt that.” She chuckled, “Would it truly be that terrible to share common interests with a princess?” Aemond let his lip curve into a smirk. He leaned down so his face hovered above hers, “Only if it is you, Strong.” 

Gaela stood on her tip toes, so their noses were almost touching. “I don’t believe you, one-eye.” Aemond moved forward with force, so her body was firmly pressed against the shelf, and he blocked her in. Their chests pressed against each other as their breathing hastened. Aemond slid his hand up, so it was lightly pressed against her throat. He felt the small gulp move down her throat and a heat rose within him. “You should be careful who you insult.”  

There was not an ounce of fear in her body. Instead, it was replaced by a new, all-encompassing fire that she could not name. She slipped her hands from out behind her and onto his chest. “I didn't mean to affront you, My Prince.” She put a sarcastic emphasis on the word prince. He glared into her eyes and noticed her pupils invading her irises and the light flush beneath her skin. The way her lips parted ever so slightly and the rhythm of which she breathed.

His lower region began to ache, and he let go of her. He stepped back and let his hands fall to his sides. “You don’t hold such power over me, Princess.” Gaella fell back flat on her feet and her face once again grew annoyed. “I need to go.” Gaella went to step away, but Aemond shoved her back a bit.

 He had almost forgotten why he was standing over her in the first place. “If you can truly read, you’ll enjoy this one.” She firmly grabbed the book from his hands and glanced over the cover. A small smirk grew on her face. 

‘A book of swords; the art of combat and strategy.’ 

Aemond watched her smirk lightly and immediately regretted his kindness. She leapt up and placed a quick kiss to his cheek and took off into the other direction. Immediately he felt his face flush with heat and his feet glue themselves to the ground. The sensation in his core burnt brighter. 

Aemond's stomach churned as he was left wondering why, despite the fact that they had never seen eye to eye. He felt flustered, bewildered, and discombobulated all at once. He thought he had been clear that he didn’t like her, but here she had gone and did that. His mouth hung open as he stumbled for the right words to say. 

“Thank you, Aemond.” She yelled as she rushed out. He hadn’t heard her call him his name before either. What game was she playing?

____________________________________

There was a grand tournament being held in her honor. Her family sat atop the booth and watched the competitions being set up below. There were three events of tournaments like these ones. The first would be a test of archery, whomever hit the center the greatest number of times won the bout. Next it was mock battle otherwise known as foot jousting. Knights in teams of two would battle against each other until the remaining team stood as victors. Lastly it was the jousting tournament itself. Knights on horseback would ride against each other and try to knock the other off their horse. Whoever won would be given high praise and the opportunity to crown a princess as the queen of love and beauty. 

“What in the seven hells are you doing?” Gaella, startled by the voice, tripped over the stack of armor below her and into the dirt. “Are you stalking me now?” Aemond scoffed, “This where the men’s tents are. If anything, you were stalking me.” She sat up and reached her arm out. “Aren’t you going to help me up?” 

He impatiently gripped her hand and ripped her off the ground. Aemond glanced around and immediately saw the stack of armor, the sword and the bow lying beneath her. His eyebrows screwed together in confusion, “what exactly are you doing?” She smiled up at him, her brown eyes twinkling in excitement. “I’m the squire for a mystery knight.” 

A green feeling began boiling in his chest. “A mystery knight? Or a secret lover like your mother?” Her mouth formed a crooked smirk, “Is that concern for my virtue? Or is that jealousy I hear?” His face dropped into its normal unamused facade, “curiosity.” Gaella hummed in response and began picking up the armor she laid on the floor. “It’s just odd a girl would squire and for a mystery knight.” 

Aemond paused in his steps and his eyes moved between her and the armor. It was small, too big for her but too small for a man. The weapons? Just the right width for her hands to grasp. The books, the training dummy, the attitude… He chuckled, “Are you competing then?” 

She turned around and put a finger to his mouth, shushing him. He swatted her hand away with an annoyed expression. “Please. Please, you have to swear you won’t tell anyone.” Her hands were placed gently on his chest and her eyes were as wide as a does again. He would admit it was nice to hear her beg. “Aemond… Are you listening?” 

His name rolled off her tongue like honey and seeped into his head. This was stupid, she was stupid. “If you don’t want to die, aim for the feet… the bigger they are, the harder they fall.” Gaella's smile was so bright it rivaled the sun. “You’re my ally now?” 

 “I’d just rather not see a girl die such a violent death.” He stepped back, secretly mourning the loss of her hands. “Whatever helps you sleep at night.” She waved him off and turned back to start getting ready. “You’re the most irritating person I’ve ever met.” She smiled to herself, “as you are to me.”��

He huffed out a breath and turned on his heels. “It’s not normal for women to fight.” She scoffed, “It’s not normal to be as tall as you are stupid.” He turned back around, “must you always argue?” Gaella stood up and placed her helm on her head. “You are like a child!” 

“And you have a chest like one!” There was complete silence before she dramatically wrapped her arms around herself. “My modesty! How often do you look?” Gaella wriggled her eyebrows in his direction. He couldn’t handle being in her presence anymore.

The sound of her childish giggles would haunt him in his sleep. Aemond began to stride off into the direction of the royal boxes, but something forced him to stop. The seven were cruel to him for making him this way. He shouldn’t be nice to a bastard but before he could stop, the words escaped him.  

“Gaella…” The sound of her name from his lips echoed in her ears. He’d never called her anything besides insults before. There was a pause, should he even bother finishing?  “Be safe.” And he continued his silent March back to his family. 

____________________________________

“Where is your sister?” Rhaenyra leaned into Jacaerys ear and whispered. “She wished to watch from underneath the booth. You know how entranced she is by knighthood.” His mother leaned back into her chair and let out a sigh. It was pointless to try and command her to come up here, she was lucky her winter child showed up in the first place. 

Jacaerys nervously played with his fingers as the knights were taking their places in front of the targets. It was all the knights from the main houses and a select few mystery knights. One in particular caught his eye, they wore a helm even though it was not needed for archery. 

It was no surprise the Lannister came in last place. The final mystery knight stepped up to the plate and drew back the string. 

Woosh

It was the first time a knight struck a bullseye  on their first pull the entire day. 

Woosh

They successfully struck another bullseye which knocked off the Stark’s arrow. 

Woosh

It was impossible what he was witnessing. The knight hadn’t missed a single target. He leaned out of his chair slightly to get a better glimpse. 

Woosh 

The arrow cut through the middle of another arrow landing the final bullseye. The crowd erupted into cheers and the mystery knight simply scurried away. The way they ran looked all too familiar. His armor also looked to be forged like ones on Dragonstone… interesting. 

____________________________________

The mystery knight was paired with a Blackwood knight. Both of them were shorter and their armor fit loosely against their bodies. It was a tragedy how easily they would be cast down by the bigger men. Jacaerys sat back in his chair and observed. 

The first bout was against the Hightower and Lannister knight against the victory of the archery match and his partner. The command was yelled, and they began circling their opponents with wooden sticks. Jacaerys turned around to smile at Baela and by the time he turned back they had won once again. Ser Hightower laid flat on his arse with the mystery knight standing above him.

“This is almost therapeutic.” Jacaerys said to his mother with a wide grin. Rhaenyra hushed him and pointed back at the field. She thought it was rather humorous but had to keep a straight face. 

The crowds cheered and jeered the grappling teams going blow for blow in the center of the joust yard. Cregan Stark was the first to draw his sword and charged the mystery knight with a mighty roar, trying to take advantage of the surprise element. The mystery knight nimbly evaded the charge, using their agility and speed to get from one side of the joust yard to the other. The Stark knight struck out again, timing his strikes well but missing each time as the mystery knight danced around their reach. The second bout saw the Tully and Blackwood knights knocking each other back, both of them swinging with ferocity but neither able to find an advantage against the other. 

The third bout saw Cregan Stark gaining the upper hand against the mystery knight. The Stark knight's impressive strength coupled with his tall size and long arms allowed him to land blows that the mystery knight just couldn't seem to counter in time. It looked like Cregan was about to defeat them, but the mystery knight rolled onto the ground and kicked his feet out from under him. The stark went down, and the mystery knight pointed their wooden stick at his throat. 

The commotion caught Tully’s attention long enough for Ser Blackwood to kick him in his chest and send him toppling into the dirt. 

Jacaerys recognized the way the knight moved as if he had seen it a hundred times. His nails dug into the edges of his seat and his breath caught in his throat. “You’re impressed, aren't you? I can’t for the life of me figure out who that is.” Rhaenyra spoke completely unknowing of what she was seeing. “Yes… I can’t figure it out either.” She noticed her son's eyes were glued to the field. It was nice he was showing so much interest in something as foolish as a tournament.

The mystery knight helped the Stark knight off the ground. He firmly grasped and patted his back as a show of respect and solidarity, before whispering something in his ear. Cregan formally bowed his head in recognition, with a proud smile on his face. 

The stands were silent in surprise, but one small voice could be heard from Jacaerys. His proud eyes were drawn to the mystery knight and confirmed what he already suspected - the mystery knight was his sister; Gaella was competing for her own favor. All eyes turned to him, and he sunk down into his chair. Hopefully, no one had heard him. 

Aemond leaned up in his chair and his face looked to be washed over in mild concern. 

Helaena realized he noticed what she already knew. Gaella was competing in the men’s games against everyone’s wishes. She had a dream about this day the other night, but no one understood her during supper. Then again, they never understood her anyway. At least this dream came true, and a bit of confidence returned to her body. 

____________________________________

The horses were lined up awaiting the command to charge. The Lannister knight grasped his lance, and the Tully knight lowered his helm. The horses let out loud grunts and stomped their hooves into the ground sending dust into the air. 

“Charge!”

The two knights took off aiming their laces at each other. The Tully knight landed a blow directly into his chest and threw him from his horse. The sound of his body crashing into the ground echoed throughout the arena. Jacaerys grimaced at the sound waiting for the mystery knight's turn. 

The tourney had taken a violent turn once the Blackwood knight knocked the Tully off his horse. Tully pushed himself off the ground and a battle of real steel began. The hate the families had for each other ran deep even in festivities. Blackwood dropped his sword and lunged at the man and began beating him senseless. They both rolled around the ground trying to mount the other and claim victory. 

Whilst they were throwing curses at each other and being dragged away by their squires the mystery knight was gearing up their horse and preparing to take on Gwayne Hightower. Daemon rolled his eyes at the announcement of the two competitors. “What a stupid fucking helm.” He muttered under his breath and Rhaenyra held back a smirk. 

Ser Gwayne Hightower was in full regalia, wearing a suit of armor and a green cape. Gwayne’s helm did look stupid, it was in the shape of a lantern. His horse wasn’t stupid, it was a fierce and powerful white charger, and his lance was held firmly in his grip. 

At the opposite end of the arena was the mysterious knight, also dressed in armor and a cape, but with no visible heraldry. Their horse was bigger and heavier than Gwayne's, and they held their lance in a menacing grip. 

On the signal from the marshal, both horses galloped forward, faster and faster until the two knights clashed in the center of the arena. Both lances splintered on impact, but the power of their attack was too much for Gwayne. The force knocked him off his horse and onto the cold hard ground. 

Daemon noticed Otto grasp his chair a little harder and chuckled under his breath. The final round was beginning and he decided to place a bet. “Jacaerys… ten gold dragons on the Baratheon.” Jace turned his head to stare at Daemon and for a moment wished to correct who he should be cheering for. He decided to keep it a secret a little longer, “The mystery knight will win… they have to.” Daemon raised an eyebrow at his step son and turned his gaze back to the arena. 

The match began with both men jumping onto the jousting line. The combatants charged their horses towards each other, wind blowing in their faces. As they drew closer, the knight's lances glimmering with the sunlight, their horses' hooves launching clumps of dirt into the air. When they met, both knights delivered a powerful and determined swing of their respective weapons. 

The Baratheon Knight was the first to take a clear shot, striking the mystery knight on the chest and sending them nearly toppling from their horse. But, the mystery knight, being smaller and nimbler than their larger opponents, managed to quickly react and swing their lance from an unpredictable angle, catching the stark knight off-guard and nearly sending them tumbling from the saddle. 

Aemond tapped his fingers against the wood and a slight stress filled his head. She was far too small to be out here. They were going to harm her and bring shame to their house. Yes, he was only embarrassed for her, not at all worried about her well-being, he told himself. 

Helaena smiled softly, “She’ll be fine.” That pulled Aemond’s attention away and he turned to her. “Why would I care if a nameless knight is fine?” She nearly rolled her eyes at his words. “Whatever you say, brother.” 

The remaining two continued their battle, the difference in size and speed becoming increasingly clear. The Baratheon repped his lance under his arm and commanded his horse to charge. The pace the two riders set was faster than before. Their lances struck each other in the chest sending them both to the ground. 

“Sword!”

The Baratheon shouted from the opposite side of the field. The mystery knight rushed over to their corner to grab one as well. Once the mystery knight turned around the Baratheon was already on them. He violently swung his sword in their direction and gave them no room to breathe. 

The Baratheon had the knight completely in his control. In one swift and powerful movement, he forced the knight onto the ground and kicked him hard in the chest plate. The sound of metal clanking sent reverberations throughout the arena. The crowd collectively gasped at the force, but then erupted in cheers for the knight. 

Aemond’s thoughts began to race for reasons unknown. He shouldn’t care, she was getting what she deserved for what had happened to him. Except, she wasn’t even there that night or any night before then.

Meanwhile, the Baratheon knight relentlessly punched the knight in the face. His blows landed with a sickening thud, and he soon had the knight in a state of submission. The knight had no chance to fight back and could only endure the punishment. 

Aemond’s breath hitched in his throat. It wasn’t right for a man to lay hands on a woman like that, he should have them removed. However, the fool below is pretending to not be a man. His jaw clenched together as nervous bits of sweat began to form on his forehead. 

He could tell that the fight was escalating to something more dire, and he leapt from his seat and ran down onto the sands of the arena. He couldn’t say what possessed him to go and try to rescue her, it was against his nature. His body moved far faster than his mind could think it through. 

Jacaerys watched in horror, his jaw hanging agape. Daemon pulled his eyes away from the brutality and watched one-eye rush downstairs. Jace’s adrenaline began to take as he got up from his seat. He was her big brother, and he would rescue her. 

Just as it seemed that the Baratheon had the advantage and victory was nearly in sight, the Mystery Knight pulled off a cunning move, headbutting the knight back and then using their legs to kick him to the ground. The mystery knight rose to their feet and held their sword to the Baratheon’ throat. The crowd erupted into cheers once more. The knight stumbled back on their feet and raised their hands in the air signaling victory. 

 That's when the knight’s helm slipped off to reveal the face of Gaella. A collective gasp rose up from the crowd. The royal family on the balcony couldn’t see her face, only the long hair that cascaded down her back. Gaella took off in the direction of her horse, completely fleeing the scene. 

Daemon knew who it was. Apparently so did a cunt with one eye. 

____________________________________

She made her way to escape from the keep and to her own private area she discovered as a child. Gaella grimaced as she slid off her horse. She apprehensively peeled off her blood-stained armor, the metal clanking against the wooden tree. She stumbled her way to the water’s edge which was heavily surrounded by reeds. 

Gaella dipped her hands into the calm lake and sighed, relieved to be away from the confinements of King’s Landing. The sun shone warmly above her, and the willow trees swayed gracefully in the breeze, providing shelter from the long city. Looking around, the area was filled with bursting greenery, trees, forests, and shrubbery. It was a beautiful, hidden lake, far from the worries of the kingdom. 

The gentle lapping of the water and the faint chirping of birds lulled her into a blissful tranquility. The pain in her body gradually subsided as she waded into the refreshing lake. She muttered her gratitude as the warmth of the water soothed her every aching muscle. 

To Gaella it felt ironic, how this haven of peace was surrounded by such a shit city. “You’ll freeze to death in there,” Aemond’s voice echoed in her ears and embarrassment coursed through her veins. She dipped herself deeper into the water and turned back. “Get the fuck away!” 

Aemond was unfazed by her aggressiveness. “What are you, the queen of reeds? Get out before you die of hypothermia.” Gaella sunk deeper into the water and covered her bare chest with her arms. “I’m indecent! Have you no respect for a lady��s honor?” Aemond glanced around and noticed the bloody clothes spread out underneath the tree. A part of him wished to turn around but the other part yearned for a glimpse. “I just watched you beat a man twice your size, you are far from a lady.” 

Her peace had been destroyed so quickly. She cursed beneath her breath. “I’ll come out if you hand me my undergarments.” Aemond thought about it for a second. It would be exciting to see what laid beneath the metal armor, but he was not like Aegon. He picked up her disgusting underclothes and tossed them at her. “Go on, I have enough decency to look away.” 

Gaella begrudgingly moved out of the water and dragged her clothes towards her. She quickly slipped on her cotton shirt and peered up at Aemond. It was taking everything inside of him not to turn around. He inhaled a deep breath every time he heard her move. “Are you going to claim this is a mere coincidence again?” Her voice was right beside his ear, and he quickly whipped around. He was too deep inside his own head to notice her approach. “Don't flatter yourself, I was following a nameless knight.” 

She chuckled to herself, “Did the nameless knight impress you that much?” Aemond scanned her face for the bruises that decorated her eye and cheek. Gaella’s lips were swollen and a slight cut glowed red. “It impressed some, but I believe tourneys are no true show of skill.” Her face fell and she moved over to collect her things. He always knew how to irk her entire being.

“You won’t be able to hide the bruises. How do you intend to get yourself out of this?” He stalked closely behind her. “I proved I was no damsel or would easily submit to a man, whatever comes after is worth it.” Gaella turned and stood closer to him daring him to say something more. “You won’t have to worry about a husband after that display.” Gaella laughed quietly. “Is that what you like? A damsel?” He went to speak but she fell back into his chest dramatically and raised a hand to her head. “Oh Aemond, please save me. There’s a terrible spider. Please, I think I might faint.” 

Aemond instinctively wrapped his arms around her waist. He stared down at her unamused theatrics. His lips curved into a small smirk without him meaning them to. “Will you quit it?” Gaella let her legs go limp and crashed into him, sending them to the ground. “Oh Aemond why, why have you forsaken such a delicate damsel such as me.” Aemond couldn't contain the amusement growing on his face. Gods, she was the most obnoxious woman he had met. “You are more of a child than Aegon.” 

Gaella gasped in fake shock, and she pushed herself up with one arm. Her face laid directly in front of his and he had yet to remove his hands from her hips. “Are you always so dry or is it reserved for me?” He glanced away from her and turned back with a cheeky grin. “Only for delicate damsels such as yourself.” 

“My disappointment is truly immeasurable.” She pouted in fake disappointment. His lips curled even further, "I knew I could count on you to be the most bothersome woman I ever met." Gaella raised an eyebrow in disbelief. “Ah yes, that must be why you have followed and allowed me on your lap.” 

"Is there a point to this?" Aemond asked. He shook his head. "There is not," Gaella said, “unless… you want there to be.” Aemond rolled his eyes but smiled. "You are the worst kind of person." She looked up at him with her eyebrows raised. "What does that mean?" He laughed. "It means you're a horrible tease."

"I am a wonderful tease,” she spoke softly. Gaella leaned closer to him, so their noses were almost touching. The unknown desire in her chest began to consume her again. This time she let it happen. She reached up and placed her hands on his shoulders. The skin of his neck was warm. She leaned closer and he felt her warm breath on his lips. Aemond's heart stopped, and his head swirled. "Gaella," he whispered. "Yes?" she murmured against his lips. "We can't do this." His tone sounded hoarse and unsure. "Why not?" she asked, though she already knew the answer. "Because you don't like me, and I do not like you..."

"I think that is a lie. You want me just as much as I want you.” Her words pierced his chest. The burning sensation in his core began. His hunger for her was only becoming all the more unbearable.  Aemond's blood boiled, he pulled her close to him and crashed his lips into her. Their lips danced around each other, never parting for air. "Aemond," she moaned against his mouth. Her hands reached up and grabbed his hair. He tore his lips from hers and pressed his forehead against hers. The need to taste her body was getting out of control. “You’re cruel, uncle.” 

“Your words are like poison, but your kiss tastes of honey. Now get off before I rip your clothes off.” He pushed her back, but Gaella gripped the collar of his shirt and tried to pull him back in. "Please," she begged. Aemond was lost to the pleasure coursing through his veins. His grip on her tightened with a bruising force. His breath grew heavy. Her lips were so soft and pliant, and he could feel her breathing become erratic. "Shh." He trailed his fingers along the side of her neck and forced her to look at him. "What?" She was beyond confused by his sudden change. "Close your eyes." He kissed her gently on the lips.

She complied instantly and he unbuttoned her shirt to expose the soft flesh of her neck. He trailed kisses down her neck causing her to grip onto his shirt harder. He reached the hollow of her throat and her whole body trembled.  Aemond traced his tongue along the path her fingers had taken. Her legs gripped around his waist tighter and the aching feeling between her legs became more uncomfortable. "Aemond," she breathed. "Open your eyes." When she did, he kissed along her jawline until he reached her earlobe. Her entire body tensed, and she dug her nails into his back. Gaella couldn’t handle the ache between her legs and tried to relieve the tension. She grinded against his buldge trying to ease her tension. He took advantage of her desperate need. He kissed her ear and then moved his hand to cup her breast. 

His cock was throbbing at this point. Aemond move his lips to hers to muffle the moans coming from her throat. It was impossible to not control himself any longer. The yearning for her had become completely unbearable. He slid his hand down to her stomach and pinched the bottom of her pants. He roughly unbuttoned them. He immediately dove his hand into trousers. His hands traced her soaking wet folds and she whimpered into his mouth. “I need you,” she whispered in between kisses. "I know," he growled. "Take them off." Gaella didn't hesitate. She released her hold on him and ripped her pants down.  Aemond stuttered whilst trying to unbuckle his pants. He managed to get the damned belt off and was finally able to let his cock out.

Gaella’s eyes widened at his size. She didn’t have much time to react before he pulled her back down. His cock grinded against her slick dripping slit. She clenched her thighs tightly together to prevent him from slipping inside. Aemond groaned as he grasped her hips and made her grind against him. Her throat released small whimpers as she wrapped her arms around him.  He whispered, "Are you sure? You won’t be able to get another husband.” His fingers dug into the flesh of her ass cheeks, and he pressed her into the ground. "Have I not proven I don’t want another husband," Gaella cried out. Aemond lifted himself back up and pinned her wrists above her head. His cock was inches away from entering her. Her legs locked around his waist again. He lowered himself slowly, “it hurts the first time.”

"Aemond!  Fuck me already," she moaned.

“Spoiled brat.” He growled and plunged into her. Her head fell back, and her eyes rolled back. The pain of being stretched caused her to moan out loudly. She dug her nails into his back. "Fuck!" Aemond groaned. She was so tight. He moved faster in order to escape the discomfort. Gaella dug her nails deeper into his back. She felt him swell and his thrusts became harder. Her pussy clenched around him, and her clit ached to be touched. 

Aemond nuzzled his face into her neck and moved his finger to circle around her clit. He rubbed slow circles around her sensitive bud as he fucked her.  “Fuck, Aemond!” Tears welled in her eyes as her body filled with a new sensation. The feeling of pleasure was all encompassing and caused her to scream out. He sped up and moved faster. His hips slammed into her thighs as his cock hit her cervix. He began leaving marks down her neck where his lips kissed, and his teeth nibbled at her skin. Gaella’s back arched at all of the simulation. She was becoming a dumb mess underneath him. 

"I- I think I’m going to," she moaned as her body clenched around him. Gaella didn’t know what it was, but it was quickly overwhelming her. Aemond watched her face contort in pleasure. His hands moved from her wrists to her waist. He began pumping into her harder and faster. Her squeals and moans grew louder and more frantic. “Fuck- fuck - fuck,” she whimpered as her pussy fully clenched around his cock. Her entire body was filled with an intense ecstasy. Her muscles convulsed around his shaft and her cry echoed throughout the forest.

“Good girl,” he whispered into her ear. Gaella screamed out as her orgasm crashed over her. She collapsed beneath him. Her legs twitched around him and she squirmed underneath him. Aemond was quickly approaching his finish and he tried to pull out of her, "I'm close.” Her eyes held a wild gleam and her lips upturned. Her legs clamped around his waist, and she began grinding her hips into him again. She was begging him to cum in her. "Please, Aemond, cum in me."

He lost all of his self-control hours ago. The desire was too much to bear.  "Fuck!" he yelled as he pumped his cock into her. Her inner walls squeezed and massaged his pulsing shaft. Gaella's nails dug into his back as her hips bucked into him. His balls tightened and he felt his release rushing towards his cock.

"Shit!" Aemond's voice was ragged and strained. He groaned as he came undone, filling her womb with thick hot seed. Her pussy milked him as he emptied the last of his seed into her. 

Aemond dropped on top of her as her chest heaved. Gaella understood now why men always sought women to fuck after battle. It was as if she had won twice in a single day.  

They both lay under the trees, panting. Aemond was still buried deep inside of her. They stared into each other's eyes, neither one of them wanting to break the moment.

He rolled off of her and she rested her head on his shoulder. “We should head back soon before someone sends a search party.”

"I don’t want to leave." She pushed herself up and stood on shaky legs. She patted down the front of her dress and ran her fingers through her hair. Aemond sat up and grabbed her wrist. “You can’t return like this; your mother will have your head.” Gaella groaned in annoyance as she remembered her mother. “I don’t have any other choice.” 

“Not necessarily, just follow me.” He smirked up at her and she begrudgingly nodded her head in agreement. “Must you always be so defiant?” Gaella intertwined her fingers with his and hummed to herself with a cocky smile plastered on her face. 

Unbeknownst to them a pair of eyes were watching from a distance.

#aemond targaryen #aemond one eye #aemond the kinslayer #aemond x fem!oc #aemond x oc #aemond fluff #aemond smut #aemond oneshot #aemond fic #hotd fic #house of the dragon

[lesbiannancytruther]

love and trust au headcanons bc they’re lowkey slowburn and i do NOT feel like going chronological b4 talking abt them kissing

-it takes nancy a couple of weeks of testing the waters before transforming into her human form and when she does robin is literally floored bc “oh my god she’s so small….” and also like exactly her type😭

-nancy has varying degrees of human form, with the natural form being with the fluffy cat ears and tail and slit pupils, but if she tries she can make the cat features go away

-i didn’t get to go into as far into detail as i wanted regarding robin and her magic. robin’s magic is elemental and chaos based, it’s VERY powerful and in typical robin fashion leaves a mess when she gets out of hand. its destructive as hell, so her specialty IS combat even if that’s not where her interests lie. robin’s method of channeling is actually pretty unique, preferring to use an intricate dagger her mother gave her to cast spells.

-even though nancy eventually trusts and opens up to robin, she has a very clear dislike for other witches, especially those that she’s just met. when robin goes out to buy supplies and nancy accompanies her, many other store patrons are forced to endure her icy glare from her perch on robin’s shoulders

-a few people comment on this, verbally expressing their sympathy to robin for having such a hostile familiar, and robin is surprisingly pretty pissed every time someone brings this up, swiftly coming to nancy’s defense every time

-nancy purrs

-like they’ll be kissing and robin will be like “r u purring🤨” “NO”

-nancy sleeps in robin’s bed only a few weeks after joining her, but as a cat. it’s when things get romantic that she shares robin’s bed as herself

-when they get into petty arguments nancy sleeps in her cat bed as a form of protest and is always scratching at robin’s door an hour later lol

-robin wasn’t really a fan of cats before nancy, mainly because most of them hissed whenever she walked by, but she sees their charm in nancy’s little tendencies

-robin always has cat hair on her clothes, she is never free

-nancy is, naturally, very protective of robin. now whenever people sneer at robin for messing something up or just existing they live in fear of either a little demon with claws or a little woman with a gun

-robin likes to boast that she can pick nancy up in both forms

-steve is still robin’s best friend in this au (he’s a witch and eddie is his familiar) and nancy HATES him like sitcom cat level hatred but she gets along REALLY well with eddie (a massive crow)

-steve: “robin ur familiar is looking at me with murderous intent again”

robin: “her name is nancy”

-robin buys nancy both regular outfits and cat outfits (the latter of which she refuses to wear) (except for on robin’s birthday where she agrees to a cat vest)

-robin and nancy balance each other out really well, with nancy being a careful eye that keeps robin from making small mistakes and robin who lets nancy have more magical freedom than most familiars do (nancy is a big fan of curses)

-after awhile, robin never goes anywhere without nancy. if for any reason she has to she always finds herself turning to see how nancy feels about something before realizing she isn’t there.

-nancy, by extension, never feels stronger than when she’s with robin. robin is her reminder that she’s a person, not a battery or a servant, she feels way more confident pursuing what she wants when she knows robin is at her side.

-nancy initiates the first kiss after robin wins a tense witch duel with her help, its heated and clearly an impulse move. robin doesn’t immediately respond, which makes nancy pull back and run off without letting robin explain anything, a tiny blur of fur disappearing into the trees

-robin is worried out of her mind until nancy comes home much later that night. she seems set on trying to apologize when robin confesses her feelings, explains that she needed to do that first, before kissing her. nancy melts into it and quickly affirms that she feels the same, apologizing for freaking out on robin as well

-nancy’s jewelry that ties her to robin is a fine gold choker that curls close to her throat and sports tiny white crystals throughout. robin, after almost falling over bc she’s so smitten, jokes that its almost like a collar and nancy pounces on her (violence)

lmk if y’all r still interested :)

#stranger things #nancy wheeler #robin buckley #ronance #love and trust au #i love them ur honor #witch!robin #familiar!nancy #catgirl!nancy #lol

[helga-heason]

Letter #8

Dear Selina,

I hope this finds you well. I’ve been running around Gotham for the last week or so in a way Gordon has termed ‘like a bat out of hell’ - and I suppose he isn’t wrong - because of this weird new alliance that the Danger Twins (the Joker and the Riddler) have formed. I’m writing this in a brief moment of serenity. Arkham is quiet for the first time in my living memory, but that’s… Not good. If it’s quiet, those two are up to something. Knowing now what the Riddler is like, he probably has a good deal of schematics in his cell for ridiculously convoluted and messed up death traps - that the Joker is probably helping him with.

I fear that I may end up going too far in my search for answers; chasing my own tail down a road best left untravelled, breaking my wings in a box too small to contain them. No-one knows how deep the rabbit hole goes, but once you find that out, you’re beyond the point of no return. There’s no way back when you know how far the rabbit hole goes. I feel like I’m already dancing that thin line, caught in the nail-biting anguish of a bleeding city and the anger and hatred of the Gotham poor; of the rogues who take matters into their own hands. I see now that I cannot do this alone, but who would work with me? The few other vigilantes that operate in this city are afraid of me, and why shouldn’t they be? I’ve spent the past few years hammering fear into the hearts of the petty criminals. That sort of thing can’t be undone in a hurry. I can’t ask you to join me. Not again. Not when you have a life where you are now. Not when you almost died last time we worked together. Not when some sort of affection for you threatens to break the Batarang off my chest with how hard my heart beats.

It’s not really a thing for me to go and check up on people, but I did a few days ago. I went to check on both Bella Reál and Oz… And the mayor was so much more pleasant. She has an odd thing against Bruce Wayne - I mean, who doesn’t - but she’s a surprisingly good conversationalist. She has aspirations and dreams and goals to help this city. If only the council would stop blocking her efforts… Even I have a thing against Bruce Wayne… And I am Bruce Wayne! I spent a while talking with Bella about various different things, and she asked me if it was possible for me to work with a few of the scattered Gotham vigilantes and Gotham PD to try and clean up the city and start removing the corruption, bit by bit. I snorted and said that I’m not the kind of person you employ, while the other vigilantes probably don’t work for free. She said that was fair enough, sounded pretty wistful, and said it had been a nice conversation and she hoped we could have another at some point. I agreed. And, don’t worry, neither of us meant it in a way that would be considered socially inappropriate.

Oz, however… He’s an annoying bastard, alright? For some reason - somehow - he is even more of a pain in the ass when you’re there on a social visit. I told him I wasn’t there to ‘bust his balls’, and he took it as an invitation to immediately start mocking me over the fact I have a cat. He said I was pining over you so hard that I’d somehow materialised a cat into my life who is oddly similar to you. He’s out of line… But he is somewhat correct. I didn’t materialise her, I found her outside of your old apartment, though it’s true that I did decide to take her in and adopt her in your honour. Because, yeah, I’m pining. I told Alfred about this conversation with Oz and he said, in what you’d probably call a ‘disapproving dad tone’, “oh, my heart, it bleeds.”. I’ll remind him of this next time I catch him trying to teach Robin how to shake hands - or paw, in her case.

That tomcat won’t stop sniffing around the Batcave. Robin isn’t in the slightest bit interested as far as I can tell, but the tomcat is insistent. I considered the possibility that it was just super… Horny, but for a whole month? I think it’s just obsessed with someone or something. What it’s obsessed with, though, is beyond me. If not Robin, then what? Robin is doing great, oddly. I’m really not the most competent pet owner - for god’s sake, I can’t even look after a plant without it dying - but Robin is… Thriving. Maybe all she needed was someone just as lonely as her to keep her company. I admit I wasn’t too keen on her at first and only took her in because it didn’t feel right to leave her to starve, but… She has definitely grown on me. Not to be dramatic, but I’d die for this cat. It’s nice waking up to her pressed against my side, on the very rare occasion I sleep or when I pass out. It almost feels like it’s her way of telling me that it’ll be OK, that at least someone is here for me and that she has faith in me. God, I’m not even 33 yet and I’m super sentimental. Over a cat. Over a goddamn cat. Once again, I blame you for this.

I think I’ll leave it here. Asylum staff are coming back from a check around the building, I’ll have another meeting with them and Gordon in a few minutes. I hope you’re well. Please don’t come back. Please. For your own safety, at least until we’ve gotten this sorted out.

Yours, always, the Bat(man) - and Robin the cat.

#bruce really loves robin #so do i #bruce hates bruce #the danger twins #bruce's letters to selina #the batman #the batman 2022 #batcat

[niennandil-me-writes]

Goretober 2: Beaten/Bruised

CN: suicide mention, trauma, cigarette burns

[Marlowe belongs to @arocalyptic. This is set in our Mothership space marine AU that I am kind of obsessed with.]

The room is small enough to drive any normal soldiers occupying them insane over time. They aren’t normal soldiers, though. They are the ones nobody else wants to bunk with, which is how they ended up together. Both broken, maybe irreparably so, but since their malfunctions don’t render them completely unusable, they are kept anyway, despite the quiet protests of their colleagues.

Marlowe is lying in the bottom bunk, humming into the pillow he holds pressed over his face and ears. His body moves rhythmically, like he’s dancing to music only he can hear, or twisting in pain. Teo doesn’t mind him. He’s sitting in the top bunk, his back against the metal wall, cleaning his rifle, like he has been for two hours, tenderly tracing his fingers over the weapon and whispering to it. The weapon answers in a voice that sounds almost, but not quite, like a person that once existed, using words similar to those that person might have used.

“Teo...” Marlowe has taken the pillow off his face.

“Hm?”

Marlowe takes a moment to continue. “It’s outside. Space.”

Teo doesn’t answer, so Marlowe goes on: “It’s making noises again. Too loud.”

It’s silent in the room, save for the humming of electronics.

“Can you... can you hurt me so I won’t hear it anymore?”

A grin appears on Teo’s face. Then he drops down from the upper bunk, Dex still in his hand. “I thought you’d never ask.”

He grabs Marlowe by the collar of his jumpsuit and drags him out of the bed. Marlowe just hangs there in his hands like a doll, as Teo smashes his head against the leader. Marlowe whimpers but doesn’t complain. Hands close around his neck and choke the sounds from him. Marlowe reaches up, claws at the fingers, but that only makes Teo more enthusiastic, his grip tightening.

When Teo finally lets go, Marlowe hangs onto the ladder, half standing, half leaning. Teo grabs Dex with both hands and jabs the butt of the rifle into Marlowe’s stomach. He folds forward, toppling over to the ground, where he’s received with a kick to the back, then a stomp on the leg. Marlowe curls up, whining and screaming.

After another kick, Teo sits down on Marlowe’s legs, hits him on the side of the head with the rifle. Marlowe’s expression has changed during the beatdown, more sober, less tormented, almost grateful, even in his disgust at his bunkmate. Already bruises are forming on his face, his arms, around his neck, and no doubt all over his body beneath the jumpsuit. How much Teo would like to see that. How much he’d love to see something else.

He trains the gun on Marlowe’s face. Finger at the trigger. Marlowe stares up at him, with an expression that isn’t quite fear, but then again, it never is. One forgets what fear is if one has felt space without the safety of a suit.

“You can’t,” is all he says.

Teo grits his teeth because he knows he’s right. He can’t shoot Marlowe anymore than he can shoot himself, as much as he’d like to. It wasn’t a coincidence that he let go of the chokehold just as Marlowe was about to pass out, wasn’t his self-control that prevented any of his bones from breaking or organs from being damaged. Computations and algorithms in his mechanical mind prevent him from destroying military property.

Teo takes the finger of the trigger he can’t pull and fumbles for something in the pockets of his own jumpsuit. “You could, though,” he says, pulling a cigarette from the pack and lights it. He doesn’t smoke, not really.

Marlowe nods. “But I won’t.” Because then I’d be alone on this ship, is what he doesn’t say.

Teo nods as well. He hates him for that, as much as his cyborg brain has a capacity for hatred. They programmed about 500 fighting styles into it, hundreds of years of space battles and their strategies as well as wars on Earth, but human emotion they somehow didn’t find room for.

 “I can still hurt you really bad,” he says, and presses the burning end of the cigarette into Marlowe’s cheek. Marlowe twists around and screams, the first loud sound to come from him, which Teo cherishes. He doesn’t let him move, holds him down while he keeps rubbing the cigarette into his face.

Eventually, he pulls it away, tilting his head as he considers the burn, the bruises that become darker and darker on Marlowe’s skin. He’s beautiful like that. He pulls another cigarette from the pack and lights it with his own before offering it to Marlowe, who takes it with trembling fingers. He doesn’t really smoke, either.

Teo stands up from Marlowe’s legs, so Marlowe can sit up on the floor, legs pulled close.

“Space stop screaming?” Teo asks, sitting down next to him.

Marlowe nods. They sit there, silently, as their cigarettes slowly burn up the oxygen within the ship.

#my writing #oc writing #goretober 2023 #teo dagger #marlowe spade #marlowe/teo #dex #gore #violence #can you find the quote in there?

[ladyisabel0052]

Unused DnD Character #1

So, when I'm bored I write a lot of stuff I might as well share somewhere. Might inspire someone else to come up with something similar! So here goes:

Alva Beastbane, the Changeling Monster Hunter

Appearance

Alva appears to be a Human woman in her late 20's or early 30's, with bright red hair and amber eyes. She is around 6 feet tall, and somewhat muscular. There are several scars on healed wounds around her body, but the most prominent is a healed gash across her left eye, which is sown shut. By what the scar looks like, it is an old wound.

Alva wears a scale mail vest beneath a cloth shirt, and above that a cloak and a wolf's fur collar. She does not have much in the way of jewellery, save for a necklace with a werebear's tooth. Her two swords, a short and longsword respectively, are sheathed to her side.

Personality

While Alva has lost a lot of her former shyness, she still doesn't go out of her way to talk to people. She tries to avoid direct confrontation, but won't hesitate to rely on violence if she deems it necessary. She has no tolerance for prejudice, and hates superstitious hatred. She is kind and does care, even if she isn't quick to show it. She yearns for someone she can trust on, though she would probably never admit it.

Background

Alva was born Huck, in the outskirts of the small mountainside village of Honnleath. His parents were quick to leave him, and from a young age, Huck took to imitating the village children to sneak in a few meals here and there. Though, Huck knew full well what the villagers would do to him if they found him out. Humans are a superstitious bunch, and "monsters" were dealt with swiftly and mercilessly. Eventually, Huck just assumed the form of a wandering beggar, and walked about the town. The villagers took him in and gave him work to do and food to eat, but he was still overall treated with contempt.

When Huck was reaching his early teens, a Woman passed by the town. From what rumours Huck could gather, she was a monster hunter, who had been hunting a pack of Werebears, and she feared they would attack the town in the coming days. They chatted, and the woman, who called herself Alva, was quick to notice that he was not who he seemed to be.  It was the first time Huck felt safe showing someone his true form. And unlike the vast majority of the villagers, she treated him with kindness.

Then the fateful day came. The pack of Werebears descended on the village, and while Alva stood valiantly with the village's meagre guard garrison, they were no match for the full force of the beasts. She died fighting the pack alpha, whom she had trapped inside of a burning building, where Huck was hiding.  Huck knew exactly what the villagers would think if he left the building and told everyone their hero had died, so he took her form, and stepped outside.

The remaining villagers hailed him a hero, and called him "Alva Beastbane". For fear of being discovered, he quickly left the village, but for some reason, whether it was grief for his first, albeit short, genuine friendship, or the trauma of seeing the woman get cut down before him, Huck never again left the woman's form. He, or well, she, has been Alva for so long, that she forgot entirely what her original form was like.

Alva wandered deep into the mountains, where she found a clan of Goliaths. They taught her sword fighting, and the way of their people. She learned to track monsters and how to detect their weaknesses. And she earned the clan's respect by singlehandedly tracking down and slaying a Werebear from the same pack that had slain her friend, so long ago.

Since then, Alva has wandered the countryside. At first, she kept to herself, but the memory of her friend, who had shown her kindness for the first time, compelled her to show the same kindness to people. Maybe one day, she could show them, that sometimes, there are monsters that need not be feared.

#ttrpg #writing #original character #fantasy

[charlestrask]

man this SUCKS

#i dont know how i keep accidentally leading people on . this sucks #how to very politely tell someone that actually contrary to what vibes i may have been giving. i do not want to see you again. #literally every time i try something with someone during it im like ok. cool. this is going fine. and so im like sure ok we can see #eachother again. because at the TIME i was like ok cool this is fine. #and then IMMEDIATELY when i get home my brain always does a 180 and is like actually. #you need to be a hermit you need to be a monk you need to retire within yourself and only be best friends with yourself forever. #and i form a small hatred and fear of seeing that person again. even though it was FINE!! #wait. okay. beginning to understand what people mean when they say commitment issues. i am like a small frightened dog. #AUGH! NO i dont want to go over to your house at 8:30 PM. IM ALREADY GOING TO BED!! IVE RETIRED FOR THE DAY!! #also beginning to realize that i just genuinely dont want to be in a relationship. which is good i guess. now how do i fucking tell her 🤬🤬 #* #argh.

[lupically]

#F40B32 | RYOMEN SUKUNA.

genre | light fluff, light angst, very faint romance undertone 

word count | 2616

warning | mention of death, mention of injury, mention of killing, decapitation 

note | i just wanted to try my hand at writing for a villain that is obviously irredeemable in a semi-realistic way.

what happens when you are irredeemable? you will fall in love anyway.

but ryomen sukuna wasn't in love with you. after all, he had killed you one too few times to claim that he was in love with you.

the first time he killed you was out of instinct. you were an intruder touching his soul the way mahito did, except you barged in without any malicious intention. he had gazed over your fallen body with mild interest then; a mere mortal, yet you emerged from thin air into his locked tight domain without dying?

the second time he killed you was a choice. he gave you not a minute to explain yourself, even though you had wasted the minute asking questions about his identity and the skull-filled area instead of giving him any valuable information about yourself. he had been fed up, he was never a man of patience, so he killed you with a wave of his hand and returned to his dull life alone on his throne.

the third time he killed you—he did not kill you. there was no third time; people liked to say the third time's charm but sukuna believed no such superstition. he killed you twice already and each time, you came back unscathed, both your body and your memories. whether he liked it or not, killing you for the third time would do neither you nor him any benefit, so he kept you alive.

you were afraid of him. he could tell, and he meant for things to be that way until he realized it served as a misfortune on his part. in order to understand this mystery—your sudden appearance into his domain, as well as your inability to leave it and his inability to kick you out—he has to gain some piece of information about you, but you were too shaken up from being murdered to talk to him at all.

sukuna's patience was reaching a breaking point and he thought about torturing it out of you, but he understood that humans are fragile, way more fragile than your typical jujutsu sorcerer. he could accidentally kill you and you would return with no scars and more unwilling to converse with him than before. then it was the waiting game all over again.

he wasn't planning on going through such a dull ordeal again, so he left you be and waited for you to calm yourself down.

the first time you talked to him, you asked him a question.

"are you going to kill me?" you asked him.

sukuna peered down at you from his throne. small, frightened, curled into a ball with no desire to touch the skeletons at his feet, but you looked up at him out of politeness.

he scoffed, displeased. "no, but i always can."

the second time you talked to him, it was to exchange a brief introduction.

"ryomen sukuna," he hummed curtly then he nudged his chin toward you. "your turn."

you shuffled up to your knees and sat down on your heels. your fingers fidgetted at your lap as you timidly peered up at his tattooed, disinterested expression.

"[full name]," you said with a nod, unable to meet his eyes. "nice–nice to meet you, sukuna-san..."

the third time you talked to him, you flinched.

"ma–may i ask you two questions... if i can...?" you asked, for the first time standing up to face him directly.

sukuna leaned away from his propped-up arm. after taking a better look at you, accessing your figure analytically despite having seen you move around slowly for days already, he shoved his hands into the sleeves of his robe and he suddenly jumped down from his throne to stand before you.

you pursed your lips nervously over his looming figure, face heating up with terrible anxiety while your eyes darted down to the watery ground. oh, his presence has been so overwhelmingly deadly that you forgot your white tennis shoes were stained red and your pastel ankle socks remained wet. you did not dare to complain, not even in your head.

"i'll allow it," he said.

"where am i?" you quickly asked.

"an innate domain," he replied.

you have questions, but you decided not to ask. you only nodded after breathing out a soft sigh to calm your nerves. this man constantly sounded condescending, he was kicking open your comfort zone without actively doing anything that would make you uncomfortable.

"okay..." you said, "thank you."

"aren't you going to ask me another question?" he stated with a raise of his brow. "you wanted to ask me two questions."

you gulped, blinking hopelessly at the air as a grimace appeared on your face. "the first question was if i can ask you two questions, and the second one is about where i am... so that makes two."

oh, a meticulously cautious one, and somewhat humorous too he would give you that. sukuna scoffed loudly, but it was less out of annoyance and more out of disbelief of your incredible dullness. however, as plain as you were, he has grown accustomed to your presence; the scent of fear that bounced off of you and the fact that he cannot kill you at will.

"you must be dying to know what this place is, are you not, you brat?" sukuna asked.

when he saw the flashes in your eyes, he knew he had you down through and through. all you were was but someone who was too afraid to say what they want, which was just as he expected from you. you wouldn't cause him trouble, you never could.

reaching his hand out of his sleeve, he stayed silent despite seeing the way you flinched with your eyes shut at his raised hand. his movement had been slow, but that was an involuntary response, an instinct that he didn't craft into you. he wondered what it was.

"you can ask me three more questions," he said as he pushed the heel of his palm against the curve of your head. he was gentle at first, then he clamped his hand down on your head as he bent his waist to meet your eyes. he laughed. "i'll allow it."

he could keep you here. he has no choice but to keep you here, and he would kill you once he realized he has the ability to. but for now, perhaps he could act a little civil, something like a human being but one that people would hate to the core.

except he was met with a little obstacle in the way, which was that you were no bad company.

the first time sukuna gained a liking toward you was when you asked him a peculiar question.

"sukuna-san," you called one time when there was only silence within the innate domain.

you sat on a bed of skulls, one that you tentatively asked the king of curses to make you so you wouldn't have to lean on the rib-cage structure and sit in water for slumber.

he denied it at first. calling you names and threatening you about ever requesting something from him—a bed in his domain? fucking atrocious. but your insomnia was killing you; you hated the blood water and your neck burned whenever you wake up having it arched at the worst angle possible.

he did not grow soft. he just made one so he didn't have to watch you sleep in his peripheral vision.

"hmm."

"why do you think curses exist?"

he raised a brow at you. "did i not teach you that before?"

"you did, sorry," you nodded, "then do you believe in god?"

"where the fuck is this coming from, you brat?"

"from where i came, god is good. but from what i am seeing, whether from where i came from or here, everything goes against that value," you muttered loudly as you pulled at your fingers. "cursed spirits harm people. if i can argue that way, i think cursed spirits are harmful within themselves."

"if god is good, and god is real, why would this happen," you said. "why should we feel negative emotions? why do we have the ability to create cursed spirits? why do curses like you exist?"

he furrowed his brows in irritation. have you reduced him to mere curses? have you reduced him to nothing but a brainless being that only takes joy in the suffering of others? no matter how he approached your words, he felt infuriated that you could minimize his importance to simply being a bad person.

he was much more than a bad person, much more than just a pain! he has ideals, he has goals and ambitions, he has wit and strength! he has anger and malevolence and power beyond which your soul could ever contain and endure! he was ryomen sukuna, the strongest curse in a thousand years and more!

he will fucking kill you.

"i'm really glad you're here, though," you finished off softly, an unknowing smile on your face as you rubbed your thumbs weakly together.

he will kill you.

"for a long time, i was told my anger and hatred aren't real. that they don't and should not exist, and i learned to bury them to the ground so they never appear on the surface again," you said, your innocent smile audible to his ears and making his chest twitch with guilt.

"cursed spirits' existence is proof that my negative emotions are real. they may be a problem, but i am not crazy for having them because they're here. they became something, they're here and alive."

he will... he will kill you.

"i just think it's unfair to put the blame on cursed spirits and cursed energy alone when the society's standard guarantees the manifestation of them," you said. "if my anger got out to the world in the form of a monster and it hurt someone, i'll forgive it. i will forgive myself."

he...

"you don't need to hear this, i wish i had your confidence, but i have to say it," you looked up and smiled at him, "i'm a little glad you're here, sukuna-san."

he will kill–he will ki–

the second time, he went stoic.

mahito was too smart for his own good. the first thing he noticed when he entered the soul within yuji's body was the way sukuna has the collar of your shirt clutched in his hand and your body pulled close to his side. it was a glance, he had one small glimpse of you both before he was kicked out of the domain.

your face was riddled with tears—crying, disappointed, and frustrated, but why? for the transfigured human whose name mahito almost forgot, or because sukuna just had one of the most sadistic outbursts you have ever witnessed.

and sukuna, the king, the lord, the almighty—didn't he look annoyed. well, not annoyed, per se. angry, mad, overwhelmed, knowing, protective. very, very, very protective; glowing eyes that glared at mahito's patched up face, fingers that gripped at your shirt so tightly he could rip the fabric apart, an aura that was ready to spit any moment if mahito so much as reach a finger toward your direction.

you meant something to ryomen sukuna. mahito realized that, so the second time he entered the innate domain, he killed you.

right before his eyes, with a cunning and triumphant smile, your neck cracked and your skin broke, and mahito tore your head off just before he was once again beat out of the domain.

sukuna tried to heal you. he tried to seal your head back to your lifeless body, time and time again pushing your decapitated head against your haphazardly cut neck. but his reverse curse technique wasn't healing you. your skin refused to piece itself back together, you refused to come back to him. time passed and he was getting mad, he was going batshit crazy trying to force himself out of this body.

bastard! bastard! bastard! he was supposed to kill you! he was supposed to be the one to kill you! he would murder that patch-faced piece of shit! he would kill mahito! and he would destroy the whole world, light it on fire and kill all that wasn't worthy of his time! he would jump universes, light-years, the bloodstream of the galaxy to find you and bring you back to him. he would—

"sukuna-san, i'm sorry i took a while! i thought you were fighting–holy shit, is that me?"

the third time, sukuna admitted to himself.

"what kind of flowers do you like, sukuna-san?" you asked, voice drowsy and your legs dangling after you climbed on one of the bones of the rib-cage structure.

"why does it matter?" he asked from his throne, eyeing you carefully.

your were a clumsy idiot. you could fall anytime.

"it doesn't, but it's flowers," you mumbled with your chin leaning against the bone, eyes threatening to close. "sukuna... sukuna..."

"what?" he snapped.

"i like lilies, the red ones," you said with a silly grin. "will you visit me when i die? sukuna... will you bring... mmm... bring red lilies..."

he looked ahead. your death; your grave, decorated with red lilies, protected and preserved with his curses. your death—he gritted his teeth. he refused to think about it. it was a waste of time.

or maybe he simply hated the idea of your death.

sukuna has not gone soft. he was irredeemable; a killer, a curse, a tragedy to descend upon mankind. he was not good and he never would be, nor did he ever have the intention to be good.

still, from you, there was proof that he could be more. what was left of his being; his anger and his torture, what was left within the gaps of his hell, the rare softness that once was there, belonged to you now.

you were the vessel that pocketed all that he could potentially become if he wasn't born to be ryomen sukuna, a version of him that you have witnessed. within you, there was proof that he did not only exist to hurt people, but also to validate madness and pain, to acknowledge passion in its murderous wakefulness. within you, there was proof that within himself, there are pieces of what it means to be human and alive.

hearing your soft breath, sukuna looked up to find you asleep with your head against the bone. your arms barely supported your weight and you were threatening to fall off as you dozed with faint snores. he stared at you, his fingers twitching, then he finally waved his hand so he could bring you away from the ribcage and to where he sat.

he paid no mind to subtlety when he set you on his lap. his hand supported your back while he kept your head pressed against his shoulder. his other arm went around your body, preventing you from falling off the throne made only for him to sit on. when he was done adjusting to the new sitting position, he relaxed.

brushing the hair away from your face, he stared down at you with disinterest, but his heart pumped and pumped for you to be warm and well, his arms tightened for you to sleep soundly.

"i will bring you all the red lilies you want," he whispered, the back of his finger gliding past your soft cheek. you did not smell like fear when you fall asleep, you did not smell like fear now even when you looked at him. "i will allow myself that."

after all, ryomen sukuna was only fond of you. very, very fond of you. 

#also sorry if i used the wrong terms !!! #and i am still working on the childe piece !!! #ryomen sukuna #ryomen x reader #jjk ryomen #sukuna #sukuna imagine #sukuna x oc #sukuna x y/n #jjk x reader #jjk fluff #jjk anime #jujutsu #jujutsu kaisen x you #jujutsu kaisen imagines #jjk x y/n #jjk x gender neutral reader #jujutsu x reader #jujutsu imagine #sukuna fluff #sukuna fanfic #jjk scenarios #jujutsu kaisen scenarios #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x gender neutral reader

[cloudninetonine]

A past that still haunts me

A/N: Hey guys, it's me (ya boi) I'm back with my still current hyper fixation Genshin Impact and a vent fic because I've been really stressed and well, it's hard living in my house :) It's a hurt/comfort fic because they always get to me and I needed to make something for myself

I am willing to do aftermath where the boys confront the abuser or do scenario but with different characters

Synopsis: You’re not a damsel in distress, you never have been and you never will be, but, well, sometimes you need a hero to rely on and that’s okay

Characters: Diluc, Kaeya, Zhongli and Childe

Warnings: Hints to past abuse, confrontation of abuser, violence, mentions of blood, threats, foul language

It had meant to be like any other menial day of an adventurer: sign in with Katheryne, complete your commissions, sign out with Katheryne with your payments - done and dusted.

But that wasn’t how it went, no, far from it - archons, so damn far from it.

“Thank you once again, (Name)” Katheryne’s smile was kind like usual, holding that familiar feeling of gratitude as she handed over your remission within a marked package, hand returning to the desk’s polished surface once you had taken it graciously, sending her a beaming grin back. “The Guild really appreciates your work ethic when it comes to the Ruin machines, it’s hard to come across adventurers who want to handle them anymore”

You sent her a shrug as you placed away the box “Can’t blame them really, they’re a hard bunch to handle- I was terrified of them when I first started too, but I had my vision to help me out, a lot of these folk only use there pure determination to eradicate them, gotta admire that!”

She laughed along with you politely “Have a good evening, (Name), I’ll see you again tomorrow?”

“Of course you will!” You backpedalled away from the guild reception, throwing the woman a polite double fingered salute as you did “Ad astra abyssoque as they say, my fair lady!”

She parrotted back her usual phrase before disappearing into the building, you walking further down the path of the city for your final activity for that day.

Of course, you didn’t reach that far, after all, it wasn’t that menial day you had expected, that you had wanted. Life was cruel sometimes, so incredibly cruel for no justified reason just for the sake of it all and you wished, archons, you wished you could rewind the clock and stop yourself from bumping into the body, to save yourself from all the repressed trauma bursting forth like a flurry of butterflies, well, more like moths, disgusting, ungodly, monster moths that aimed straight for the face.

“Sorry!” You yelped, too preoccupied with gathering your pocketwatch you had dropped in the stumble to see who it had been, after all, you were on a schedule and you didn’t want to be-

“(Name)?”

...late.

All of a sudden, time didn’t seem to exist, or maybe it was moving way too slowly from that horrid spike of adrenaline that shot into your bloodstream as soon as the voice registered.

You hoped to the Archons that it wasn’t, that it couldn’t, but did the gods hear your prayers?

“Oh Archons, it is you! It’s been such a long time!”

Of course, they did, they just didn’t care to listen. Ignoring the cries of your people were in fashion to them these days.

They stood there with a smile so excited it almost seemed to tear their face in half, with eyes sparkling with recognition after so many years away from them, they opened their arms welcoming you into their embrace like it was something just so normal for the two of you like you would come bounding to them like a lost puppy who had finally found their master.

The fear of your abuser dwarfed in comparison the pure feral rage and loathing to think that they even deserved to be breathing in the same space as you.

People were looking, of course, they were looking, you knew what they were doing, being bright and jovial, bringing others attention towards you both so that whatever scene you caused would be your fault like you were the bad guy. It was old tactics, of course, you wouldn’t dare do anything when you were younger, you’d just push through it, but this wasn’t old times, this wasn’t younger you, scared, smaller you afraid them, this was you now, a warrior, unwavering in battle, a person who smiled in the face of danger, who laughed at the pitiful fights that 2- no- 4 abyss mages brought to you!

To hell what other people thought, you’d stomp their head into the cobblestone if they had so much as poked you.

“Come here and give me a-”

You took a step back, mustering the deadliest face you could, but you wavered, it was only natural, no matter how much you could try to hype yourself up, this person was your first true experience of real-life nightmares, the first person to bring you true pain, no matter how many ruin guards, hunters, millachurls, mages- anything you faced, nothing could prepare you to face your first fear:

The fear of your older sibling.

“If you fucking touch me I’ll stab you-” The growl cracked nearing the end, you were always an angry crier but you were not about to fall back to this- this monster. “In front of all these people, I won’t hesitate”

Their face dropped followed by your stomach, though, the food you had for lunch sure did feel its way up your gullet.

“What’s with your language? We haven’t seen each other in four years and this is how you treat me? Your older sibling?” They laughed in disbelief because onlookers would think they were shocked, I mean, how could you speak to family like that? But they didn’t know, they didn’t know the words they had told you, the insults, the threats, those tight grabs, those beatings- they didn’t know, so they obviously didn’t know that the shock came from the fact that you had stood up to them.

You licked your lips to get rid of the dryness, but the problem you faced was that your mouth had dried out along with them, as did your throat.

Don’t let them turn this on you, don’t let them get the upper hand, you were better than them, so much better.

“You’re not my fucking sibling” You spat, feeling the air vibrate around you, a sudden shine from your cloak hinted you to the cause “You haven’t been for a long time, don’t fucking try that shit with me”

There it was, that familiar enraged spark, that look of hatred on their face, the thing that warned you about what you said had been the right thing to set them off, that they were just as easily triggered by the smallest act of rebellion just like when you were kids.

Of course, they hadn’t changed.

Evil never did.

They took a step forward but you didn’t back off, just hardened your resolve as they leaned in menacingly, as though their stupid little intimidation tactic still worked after all these years.

You told yourself it didn’t but you knew deep down that wasn’t completely true.

“Don’t speak to me like that, (Name)” Facade gone, they showed you what they really were, what they were really like after all, “Don’t you ever speak to me like that, you show me fucking respect”

Respect?

RESPECT!?

Oh Archons, you were angry, no, seething from the thought that they ever deserved respect.

That pathetic piece of shit, that gruelling pleb, mere gum on the bottom of your damn shoe-

You’d kill them, right here, right now.

You felt the familiar materialisation begin to form in your hand when another voice called out, a familiar loving one that nearly made your throat swell from relief.

“(Name)?”

Diluc

He could sense the tension. Of course, he could sense the tension, Diluc had faced this tension so many times before, he was practically the one that owned such a vibe anytime Kaeya even breathed near him for a second longer than necessary.

But being the one to witness it, to see you, the usual awkward, goofy sweetheart stare at another with such overbearing malice made him uneasy, caused his stomach to churn in ways he didn’t like, set him off in a way that was only reserved for the most chilling on moments.

Diluc wondered what exactly this stranger had done to warrant such a reaction from you.

“(Name)?” The redhead called, glancing around the many citizens of Mondstadt that watched the exchange with intrigue, guard and worry, eyes focused on the scene of this foreign stranger and fuming you, hand poised by your side with weapon particles dancing on your palm.

When Diluc finally made it over, his form seemed to curl protectively around you, hand landing on the small of your back delicately while keeping face with the person, eyes narrowed dangerously but still holding an air of civilness.

A true gentleman, even when you were close to merking some rando.

“Is there a problem?”

The stranger straightened immediately, backing up a few steps with their hands up in defence, sending Diluc a charming smile that the man could see through crystal clear.

“No problem, no problem at all” They glanced back at you, seemingly friendly despite his partner’s obvious ill intent that radiated off you in waves “Isn’t that right, (Name)?”

Diluc saw you tense up once again, the buzz from your Vision rising in volume with your obvious anger as you tightened your first, ready to just screw your weapon and go for the throat.

“If that is the case” The noble’s hand softly pressed against your back, gently but coaxing, knowing that conflict in the middle of the town centre would just bring the knights to meddle in affairs that they had no business attending “Then we shall be going”

“There’s no need to leave, after all, my sibling and I were just chatting”

He paused, shouldering a questioning glance your way but at the sight of your unruly expression, he pushed down his enquiries and once again began coaxing you away from the scene. Angel’s Share had already been open for a while, meaning the usual folk would already be settled in, but the storage room was sure to be a good place to chat and to calm you down, all he needed to do was get you away.

“We already had plans” The side glance had the stranger- your sibling, biting their tongue, brows furrowing in a known annoyance as the two of you began your way towards the pub, you still vibrating in anger. “Good day to you”

The two of you had made it a few feet when they called out once again “Don’t worry, (Name), I’ll see you again real soon”

Diluc’s arm tightened around you faster than you could react, tugging you away quickly “Diluc-”

“No, (Name)”

“Stay out-”

“Not here” Sharing a look, he softened at the shine in your eyes. “You’ll just attract the knights' attention”

You didn’t care, no, not one bit. If the knights had dared to interfere at that moment, they too would have been caught up in your blinded revenge, thrown aside or slashed down without single care just to finally eradicate the bane of your existence and you didn’t care about what consequences you brought about, you just didn’t and you made sure to tell Diluc that, as soon as you had the privacy of Angel’s Share’s storeroom, pacing up and down while he stood off to the side against the wall, watching silently.

“You had no right to get in my way!” You snapped, voice shaking from the pure emotions you were releasing “I finally had my chance, I was finally going to do it! They deserve to end by my hand, by my decision, after the years of torture they put me through! They deserved it! And you got in my way! How could you get in my way! I-”

Pushing off the wall, he slowly advanced towards you, carefully, hands out like he was approaching a wounded animal.

“I understand you’re upset-”

“I’m not upset!” You cried at him, stopping mid-step before dropping your head and tightly, grabbing your hair in your hands “I’m not upset! I’m angry! I’m so fucking angry! And I deserve to be fucking angry! I-”

The sob ripped through your throat despite you trying to hold it back, tears finally gathering in your eyes and rapidly falling down your cheeks “You should have let me kill them! I should have had the chance to rid the world of their evil! It’s not fair! It’s not- it’s not fair, I-”

You didn’t bother to fight him when his arms finally wrapped around you, just fell against him as you wept. The pent up rage, fear and sadness from years of repression taking its toll as you cried, your partner whispering sweet words as he raked his hand through your hair gently and leaned his head against yours.

“I’m sorry” His hand held your cheek fondly, ruby red staring back into your own eyes with a softness that made you melt “I didn’t know this meant so much to you, but if you’re willing to tell me, I’ll listen. I’ll always listen”

With another choked sob, you leaned into his hold “Please just hold me for now”

And he did just that.

Kaeya

The captain had promised to meet you at his office, a simple task really but with the lingering presence of Jean and the words ‘There’s so much work that needs to be done’ leaving her lips he bolted, hoping to catch you by the Guild and drag you to Angel Share for your date. It wasn’t that he didn’t want to help her, it was just he had already promised you this night and Eula could have always taken his place with paperwork, her threat of “vengeance” as she liked to call it could wait for another day.

It was also due to the fact he had no intentions of filing any paperwork for as long as he could avoid it, but that was his secret to be kept.

Being the perspective man he was, he could tell straight away he had walked into something tense, surveying the surrounding people of Mondstadt who looked on in concern, the unbridled rage upon your face, the obviously intimidating lean that the stranger held over you- something was wrong and he knew he had to put a stop to it.

“(Name)?” You glanced for a single moment before your furious glare had returned to the stranger, another flag waving right in his face as he approached, “My dear? Who might this be?”

Before you could snap, lip curling in disgust, the stranger stood back to their full height, switching quickly with a fake charming smile that practically mirrored his own, holding out their hand towards him “(S/N) (Last), (Name)’s older sibling. it’s nice to meet you”

Kaeya’s smile widened and despite the glare from you that was now focused on him, he shook your sibling's hand in-kind “Kaeya Alberich, (Name)’s partner-”

He made sure to tighten his grip with his last words “And Cavalry Captain of the Knights of Favonius”

Successfully, as he always was, Kaeya held back the smug, mocking grin that itched to climb onto his face when the neck of your sibling bobbed nervously, forehead reflecting the afternoon light as sweat gathered on their brow.

The man hadn’t obviously threatened them, surely, Kaeya was smarter than that, but then again, he could still present himself as a threat, a good one and well, his title was a menacing one when it came to the right moment. ‘Try anything and not only do I have the authority to kick your arse but the power to put you in a place many didn’t dare even step’ shortened into an innocent sentence with only 8 words.

“Cavalry Captain? That’s quite impressive” They laughed off, tugging away their hand awkwardly when Kaeya continued to keep a firm grip, his present eye focused solely on your siblings face. They glanced over to you “Quite an achievement for you, aye (Name)?”

You growled, “I’ll show you an achievement-”

Kaeya’s arm had wrapped around your waist not a second later, tugging you tighter to his side as the two of you turned, the man throwing your sibling a smile over his shoulder.

“As nice as it was to meet you, (S/B), we must be going”

And then without another word Kaeya dragged you away, heading in the direction of your home instead of Angel Share tavern, feeling your pure, unfiltered anger the whole way along with the citizens as they parted ways, rushing off from your rage.

It was only when you had returned to the sanctuary of your abode did you snap, jerking away from your boyfriend with angered strides and beginning your seething lecture towards him, moving up and down through the living room while he ventured off into the kitchen, grabbing 2 glasses and a bottle of wine.

“How dare you Kaeya! How fucking dare you! Do you have any idea what you were doing back there!? What was even happening back there!? So much for being the most observant man in Mondstadt because you seemed pretty dense to me the whole fucking time!” Your hands raked through your hair as you yelled, trying so hard to hold back the tears “I didn’t need your damn help, Kaeya! Nor did I fucking want it! Know to stay out of someone's business when it isn’t wanted!”

Logically you knew what he had done, you were smart like that and you knew Kaeya long enough to know what he was doing but your rage, fear and sadness blocked out everything in that moment, made you blind to reality, made you only think irrationally and Kaeya didn’t blame you for that. He could never blame you for that.

Though, it did hurt him to see you in this state.

“Wine?”

You gawked at him for a moment, staring at him with shock and confusion as he held out a wine glass towards you, another held in his other hand and a sweet smile plastered on his face, before your moment morphed into rage, grabbing the drink from his hand and tossing it towards the wall, the red wine splattering over the wallpaper and glass shards falling to the floor.

“Well, that was a waste-”

“Do you think I’m an idiot, Kaeya!?” You cried, not even bothering to hold back anymore as the tears fell and your voice cracked, hand pointing accusingly in his face “Is this some kind of joke to you!? Huh!? Am I a fool in your eyes!? Some sort of blubbering idiot!? Why must you- why do you-”

The second glass was placed on the dresser by you both, Kaeya’s hand coming to hold your cheek fondly while the other came to grab your hand that dangled in the air, still poised at him “I don’t think you're either of those, my dear, in fact, I think you’re one of the brightest in the whole of Teyvat, nevermind Mondstadt”

You hiccuped “Then why-”

Brushing away the wetness from your cheek, he brought your hand to his mouth to place a fond kiss on your palm “Because you mustn’t cry, (Name), don’t waste your tears on someone like them”

“I’m not crying, I’m-”

He shushed you gently and you finally relaxed, falling into his embrace with a heavy heart “-I’m not, I swear-”

Within the familiarity of your home, you wept in his arms, exhausted from the whirlwind of emotions and the scenes that had transpired that day, ready to just curl into yourself and try to block the flooding memories of history. Although, having Kaeya at that moment helped more than he could ever know, having him to rely on made it all so much easier to cope with that day.

“Tell me what ails you and I’ll listen” Brushing back some hair, he pressed a kiss to your head.

“Can..can we just stay like this for a while?”

“Of course, my dear”

Zhongli

He had sensed the incoming danger like it had been revealed in some sort of premonition. Maybe it had been a skill he had acquired after his long, eventful life, maybe it was his connection to Liyue and his citizens, but for some reason, as he sat before Iron Tongue Tian as the man recalled his tales of ancient Liyue like usual, Zhongli knew that the crowd that was forming around Wamin Restaurant had something that he need urgently attend, especially when even Tian paused his story to glance around the corner of the restaurant building to see the commotion.

When the archon had finally borne witness to the scene, he paused within the crowd, surveying the surroundings carefully. You were the centre of attention, along with another stranger, both glaring at one another with anger and disgust, though your own anger seemed to double compared to the other’s, seeing as your weapon was slowly materialising in your grip. Zhongli could also see Guild Master Lan making her way down the steps leading to the Guild reception, a worried expression on her face glancing between you and the approaching Millelith.

Zhongli made his decision, politely pushing through the crowd until he had finally made it by your side, hand being placed gently on your arm “(Name)?”

Both you and the stranger glanced at him, but he paid no mind to them, only held eye contact with you when Lan appeared by your other side, glaring at the stranger with a hardened gaze.

“Are you harassing my guild member?”

Before the stranger could respond, the Millelith had also popped in, glancing between you and them “Is there a problem?”

Zhongli had taken up your view when Lan began her take, she had borne witness for much longer than he had of course and he was certain that you were in no state to talk to the guards. Your eyes were glazed with hatred, pupils pinpricks in a sea of (E/C) and your hands were shaking, balled into fists.

If anything, he needed to try and calm you down first.

“Get the hell out of my way, Zhongli” Your teeth ground together, words shaking with anger “Don’t push yourself into my business”

“I’m sorry, my love, but I can’t do that” He tried brushing your cheek but you jerked away, glaring at his hand before glaring back at him, in no mood to be coddled “I don’t want you to do something you’d regret”

“Trust me, I won’t regret this one bit”

Zhongli held his tongue for the question that almost rolled out, knowing now wasn’t the time for inquiries when the stranger’s voice rang out, condescending and snarky as they addressed you.

“Still need people to protect you, aye (Name)? Of course, you’re still the same pathetic bitch from years ago”

You were lucky for your reputation around Liyue, for the picture of the kind and caring adventurer that had swept through the town from your years of living here because had it not been for that, you pushing aside your boyfriend and materialising your weapon to aim it at your sibling’s throat would have had you in cuffs that instant.

Lan grabbed you, tugging you away as you screamed “I’ll show you pathetic you fucker! Let me go!”

The Millelith didn’t wait to drag your sibling away, much to their cries of dismay, one sending Lan a nod while you continued to fight against her, crying out in frustration.

“Kid, you have to calm down-”

“Calm down!? No! Get the hell off me!”

Zhongli watched as you finally broke away, huffing and puffing up a storm before glancing amongst the crowd, staring at their worried and concerned faces, your own eyes tearing up before you looked away pushing past the crowd to find somewhere to be alone.

When Lan went to call out for you, Zhongli raised his hand, the two sharing a look before the archon made his way after you, his longer legs keeping a steady pace to which he could catch up to you, just beyond the bridge that led into Liyue Harbour. There were no people where you stood, just the lush green plants and great mountains of nature, a perfect place for you to let out your frustration without the prying eyes of the citizens.

“(Name)-”

“Leave me alone!” You cried, curling into yourself with your back turned to him “I don’t want you here, Zhongli! Nor did I want you back there! I didn’t need your or anyone else's help!”

You knew he was here from a place of concern, and deep down you begged that your words didn’t harm him in any way, but currently, you didn’t care, you didn’t want to care, you just wanted to be numb, numb to the flashbacks of your horrid past and numb to the feelings that were dragged along with them.

“My love, please, return with me to our home, I will brew some calming tea-”

“Tea? Tea!? Does it look like I want any fucking tea?! I couldn’t care any less about some fucking tea, Zhongli!” Spinning around on your heels, you scowled at him, not bothering to hide your rushing tears “Don’t you get it!? I want to be left alone, I-”

Two gloved hands gently encased your face, your angered expression morphing into one of shock as your partner stared down at you with glowing eyes filled with a deep-rooted love, affection, worry and so much more that you couldn’t put into mere mortal words. At that moment, everything felt as if it had melted away, only you and him were in this world, nothing else, just the two of you.

And you felt as though your heart had been lifted from the pressures of this life.

“I do not think it is best for you to be left alone” His baritone voice was always so calming, so serene and in your sane moment, you finally felt its effects “I wish to stay with you, so please, let me stay”

With a whimper, you grabbed onto his forearms and leaned your face into his hands, tears continuing to fall as your eyes fluttered shut “Okay…”

“They have hurt you deeply, haven’t they?”

Hesitantly, you nodded.

“Would you be so kind as to tell me the details?”

“I-...” Sharing eye contact once again, you whispered “Can- can you just...hold me for now? Please”

Moving his hands from your face, he engulfed you in his arms, leaning his head against yours “Of course”

Childe

The Harbinger had just left the Northland Bank, hell, he was just about to make his way down the spiral staircase but when hearing the commotion, he paused, something in his gut telling him to check just before and he was glad he did.

Glancing over the elevated walkway, he felt a fiery pit roar in the depths of his stomach, eyes narrowing dangerously at the scene; you were snarling in some other person’s face, their own face nothing short of disgust and a crowd that only seemed to grow by the minute.

Who the hell did this person think they were? Did they even know who you were? To stand so close to you, with a look of threat on their face like you weren’t about to kick their arse? Like he wasn’t about to kick their arse? How did this insignificant speck of dross not know your connections with him, the 11th Harbinger? Or did he know and was just trying his luck?

“Seems like someone has a death wish” And a death wish they had indeed.

Ignoring the perplexed glance from his subordinate stationed outside the building's entrance, Childe made his way down the steps, murderous look stitched on the whole way to the circle of civilians, the mass parting ways for the man that was Tartaglia and continuing to watch the moment in silence.

“Who the hell are you-” You both turned towards him, you in shock while the stranger stared in confusion until Childe’s hand wrapped around their collar, tugging them closer to look down at them with a deep-rooted disgust “-And why the hell are you harassing my partner?”

They fought against him, obviously, they did, but the surprise came when you saddled up next to him, grabbing his arm “Stay out of this, Tartaglia”

What? It hadn't been your request, no, you were always one to finish your whole fights you weren't "A damsel in distress after all!" no, you were so much more, so much greater but that look on your face, murderous and downright cruel- he just couldn't believe his ears.

Childe stared at you in shock while the stranger struggled, throwing him a dirty look in their attempts “Yeah, this is between my sibling and I”

Childe straightened in surprise, feeling embarrassment flood his system. Had he seriously just grabbed and threatened his lover’s family member? Oh, Archons, his judgement had been clouded by anger at the look of the scene, I mean, why would your sibling look at you that way-

“But it’s really no surprise that you still need to be babied, (Name), how shameful”

His eyes widened but not a moment later had you tackled your sibling, the crowd crying out in alarm as you threw back your fist and crushed their nose under the weight of your punch. “I’ll show you fucking shameful, bastard!”

There was shouting and a glance showed the oncoming Millelith marching towards the circle.

Being Fatui always did garner the attention of the guards nowadays, especially for him, who had tried to lure out the attention of their Archon by summoning an ancient god that nearly drowned the entirety of the harbour, so it was no surprise that they seemed to hurry in the pursuit when they noticed his appearance at the scene. However, lucky for him, your reputation as a great adventurer preceded you and throughout Liyue you were seen as a trusted and well-liked individual, meaning whatever trouble you got in, containing his meddling or not, was usually waved away due to the trust of the people.

So, without another thought, Childe tugged you off of your bloodied sibling and held you close, even as you thrashed violently, shouting at him to let you go.

“What is going on here?” A guard called, slamming the hilt of his polearm into the ground as he surveyed the area, eyes landing on the sibling before following the small trail of blood to you, still fighting against your boyfriend with threats falling from your lips “Was there a reason for this brawl? Who started it?”

As your sibling raised themselves on their forearms, they scowled and opened their mouth to respond, only for Childe to put in. “It was them, sir, they were the one that started it, (Name) was merely acting in self-defence”

The Millelith scowled at him, raising a brow and once again looking you over “Is that so?”

He addressed the crowd soon after “Is this what happened?”

And as expected, they all glanced over the sibling, then to you and piped up in agreement. It paid to be a hero, it seemed, the whole harbour returning the favour of years of helping out the community.

“If that’s the case, please come with us” The sibling cried out, anger and fear laced into their voice, trying to argue for their innocence only for the guards to grab them, hauling them away to archons know where while Childe did the same with you, slowly dragging you away from the scene and back into the bank, you screaming and cursing the whole way until you had made it to his office, finally managing to push him off and storming to the opposite side of the room practically seething.

“Who the hell do you think you are, Tartaglia!?” You cried, throwing out your arms in exaggeration “I didn’t need your fucking help! And why the fuck would you pull me off them!? I had them right where I wanted them and you fucking did that! Are you a moron!?”

“You had a sibling” He breathed, watching as you began to pace, muttering in an angered state “And you didn’t tell me”

“-after all these years I finally had the chance to end their pathetic excuse of a life and you just got in my fucking way! I’d waited too long for this moment and you fucking ruined it! How dare you, how fucking dare you-”

“(Name), why didn’t you tell me you had a sibling!?” He cried, walking up to you and grabbing your wrist to stop you “I was ready to kill them right there! And why are you talking about them like this!? They’re your family aren’t they-”

“They are not my fucking family!”

The scream echoed through the room, chilling Childe to the core as you ripped your arm from his grasp, running your hands through your hair before gripping it so tightly it felt close to being ripped from your head. But you didn’t care, no, you couldn’t, you were so angry and you needed something to keep you grounded, to keep yourself from losing yourself and getting lost in those haunting past memories.

The Harbinger felt his chest squeeze painfully as the tears fell down your face, red rimming your eyes and cheeks wet as you sobbed, chest heaving from trying to breathe “Family takes care of you! Family thinks of you in the highest light possible! They love you for who you are and they love you no matter what! That bastard hurt me, made me feel worthless and they refuse to believe they could do no wrong and I hate them! They are the bane of my existence! They are not my fucking family! I hate them, I hate them, I hate them, I-”

Arms were around you instantly, Childe’s face pressed into your hair as you wept, grasping onto the lapels of his suit and shoving your face into his chest to muffle your cries.

“I’m sorry” He whispered, his own eyes shining slightly “I’m sorry, I was being insensitive. Please, don’t cry”

“No, I’m not crying, I promised myself I wouldn’t-” You hiccuped “I wouldn’t waste any more tears on them-”

Then you broke off into more wails, your boyfriend holding you close and letting you continue to cry in his arms, warm and comforting until you were finally reduced to whimpers, leaning into him heavily as the remaining adrenaline in your body began to wear thin when he pressed a kiss to your forehead.

“Will...will you tell me about it?”

You sniffed “Later...just hold me for now, please, Ajax...”

His arms tightened protectively “Anything for you, my love”

#genshin impact #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact imagines #genshin impact imagine #genshin impact diluc #genshin impact diluc x reader #diluc x reader #genshin impact kaeya #genshin impact kaeya x reader #kaeya x reader #genshin impact zhongli #genshin impact zhongli x reader #zhongli x reader #genshin impact childe #genshin impact childe x reader #childe x reader #genshin impact tartaglia #genshin impact tartaglia x reader #tartaglia x reader

[favoniuscodex]

soft deception. [diluc x reader]

pairing: diluc x f!reader prompt: you love your boyfriend, you really do. he’s just so, so trusting in you that you can’t help but to trick him every now and then. (alternatively: you give diluc the world’s ugliest onesie as a christmas present and now that it’s all over, you want to go back in time and punch yourself in the face for unleashing this curse within your household.) word count: ~2.5k warnings/genres: humor, fluff, sfw but like... adult jokes at some points a/n: purely self indulgent, nobody requested this, tried out a bit of a different writing style. i wrote this to try to cheer myself up, so hopefully it makes you all happy! no beta reader though (but i never have one anyways)

You had a tendency to think of yourself as the funniest person in Teyvat at times.

Especially when you had Mondstadt’s most gullible eligible bachelor wrapped around your finger, desiring to cater to your every whim. Sure, the two of you were like two young teenagers in love despite being much older, to the point where it was a mental workout to restrain yourself from leaving purple and blue marks all along his neck, desiring to hear praises stutter on his lips as you show the man the love he has lacked over the years. It didn’t help that he also had those cherry-colored eyes that pierced into you, the only eyes to ever truly see you for you. In your humble opinion, the best part about Diluc Ragnvindr is neither his wisdom nor his love, but his ass.

Unsure if Barbatos is actually able to listen into your thoughts or not due to Venti’s uncanny capability to make jokes about thoughts you know you have never uttered aloud whenever Diluc turns his back to the two of you at the bar, you quickly rectify your thoughts and mumble an apology to the potentially omniscient alcoholic bard. 

The best part about Diluc Ragnvindr lies within his ass... umptions. His assumptions, specifically about the inherent truthfulness he believed to be in your statements. Your boyfriend, as much as you loved him, is an extremely gullible man. Such a fact is even written on the ceilings of every room, but it never hurts to double-check. If you are Teyvat’s jester, then Diluc is Teyvat’s fool, but he is a fool in love. 

The calculated, reserved man only lets himself be duped by you. No matter how many times you trick him, he’ll listen to your exaggerated claims and boisterous words with widened eyes, immediately trusting your words as he trusts you wholeheartedly.

You thrive in such an environment, manipulating Diluc to your liking. Not in a bad way of course, as the thought of hurting even a single hair on his head makes your stomach churn and nausea arise. Rather, you find amusement in tricking him with subtle sleights of the hand and little white lies, before revealing your cards at the end of every show and reveling in his flustered nature. You long not to hurt Diluc, but you relish in the way his milky skin turns to a rosy pink upon realizing your deception. 

In simpler terms, you love to prank your red-haired, stoic boyfriend in order to see the shy smile and bashful eyes that accompany his revelations of your actions. 

Being the funniest, sexiest woman in Teyvat with the most attractive, most trusting boyfriend in all of Mondstadt leads to raucous laughter on your behalf and flushed cheeks on your boyfriend’s behalf during many nights within your shared home. With Diluc’s confidence in you, you are unstoppable.

Such arrogance had a tendency to bite you in the ass. 

Especially now. Right now. You’ve never regretted duping Diluc more than you do at this moment. For Christmas, you had given him two presents, his actual present and one designed to be a joke. Diluc, bless his heart, had not interpreted such a present to be no more than a simple gag and had politely smiled at you as he held the gift up, inspecting it with poorly disguised distaste in his eyes. The gift in question was a pajama onesie you had found within the clearance section of some decaying Mondstadt boutique, but these weren’t just any pajamas. It was the ugliest piece of clothing you had ever seen.

The offending onesie glints in the light of the fireplace that illuminates Diluc’s face and your poor excuse at a poker face as he analyzes his gift. It is decorated with a variety of misshapen owls, feathers formed by multicolored, poorly sewn sequins. Each owl has two octagonal, almost glowing, gaudy amber-colored rhinestones for eyes, yet each rhinestone is a slightly different shade from the others, as if they had been left out in the sun, forgotten about. A santa hat is perched on the heads of each owl and a candy cane is loosely held in at least one wing of each owl. The onesie even has built-in feet, with owl-shaped grips on the bottom that barely cling on for life in a failed attempt to provide the user traction. Diluc quickly attaches to such a concept and tries to use it as an out.

“It’s… lovely,” He finally manages, doing his best to keep his voice even as he smiles at you. You can see the pain in his eyes. “But I do not believe the feet will fit me.”

You widen your eyes in sadness and bat your eyelashes at him innocently, as if such a sentiment truly wounded you. “Can you hire a tailor to fix them? I spent a lot of time picking out this gift and I think it’s perfect.”

Diluc’s smile breaks and horror creeps into his eyes upon realizing there’s no way out of the predicament he’s currently in. As he breaks his intense ogling of the onesie to look at you, his faux smile is plastered once again on his face. It doesn’t reach his eyes and it wavers, but you simply give him a cheery grin in response.

“Of course, dear,” Diluc responds, albeit a bit despondently. Your heart twists a bit and- no, no. Guilt is not allowed in the heart of a true comedian. “Anything for you.” His eyes are empty as his smile slowly drops into a thin line. Your expression of glee is a sharp contrast.

“Yay!” You giggle and clap your hands together once as you pop up from your seated position. Diluc’s woeful expression alleviates upon seeing your seemingly genuine reaction and he manages a small smile once more, this one a bit more genuine. “C’mon! Let’s try it on!”

After wearing it the rest of Christmas night, Diluc not only wears it past the reasonable date to keep wearing Christmas merchandise after Christmas is over, but he wears it multiple times per week. You know he’s only doing it to see your fit of giggles every time he does so and that Diluc wants nothing more than to see you happy, but you’re beginning to hate yourself for such a gift. 

The inklings of self-hatred explode into full self-loathing when Diluc reveals he found an identical onesie while shopping and that he purchased it in order to be able to wear around the house more often. You have to hold yourself back from narrowing your eyes at him as he holds up the offending, nearly identical onesie, albeit in a different color. Unlike you, Diluc isn’t a bully. There’s absolutely no way he’s joking right now. Maybe. You aren’t sure.

The end of January rolls around and you’re ready to wrestle Diluc for his Pyro vision and burn these damn onesies yourself. Every time Diluc joins you in bed, ready to clock in for the night, he’s wearing the archonsforsaken Christmas outfit despite Valentine’s Day rapidly approaching. If you wear a cute outfit and lie on the bed, hoping for Diluc’s attention? You’ll certainly get it, but there’s more than just his eyes watching you. There are the artificial eyes of the owls watching the two of you, their beady little rhinestones judging you for your premarital sins. Whenever you reach out to stroke his arm or thigh reassuringly, you’re met with the feeling of cheap flannel and pilled fabrics.

Unfortunately for Diluc, Kaeya is your hero in this situation as he arrives to Dawn Winery unannounced and interrupts you and Diluc reading in bed together. The cavalry captain hadn’t even bothered to knock, swinging the door open with zero fear of what he might have found inside. But, upon seeing the two of you, Kaeya freezes.

“What the hell is that?” Kaeya nearly screeches in horror, pointing at Diluc.

“I’m sure you know what Diluc looks like, Kaeya,” You respond in an annoyed tone. You loved Adelinde, but why had she let Kaeya up to your and Diluc’s chambers without any warning is beyond your comprehension. “You only have one eyepatch, not two.”

Diluc does a poor job at stifling a chuckle next to you, his book now resting on the nightstand next to him due to the intrusion. He wordlessly sneaks an arm around your waist and you lean into his chest instinctively, trying your best to ignore the scratch of the sequins against your cheek.

“No, not that,” Kaeya says, unperturbed at your slight against him. “That! That thing he’s wearing! It’s awful!” His finger shakes in the air before the blue-haired man doubles over in laughter. “That’s the ugliest thing I’ve ever fucking seen, holy shit.”

You look up at Diluc, who is flushed a deep crimson in embarrassment and whose brows are furrowed.

“I must admit,” Diluc clears his throat, voice diffident. “It has grown on me.”

Your heart melts at his confession and you scoot up a bit in his grasp, causing him to look at you in confusion before you press a reassuring kiss to his cheek. Adoration swims in his irises as he looks at you and softly smiles, forgetting about Kaeya’s presence despite his brother’s noisy, ceaseless laughter. Sure, the onesie might be a joke that you want to throw into a fire and pray that it burns in the pits of hell for eternity, but Diluc’s defense of your present in the face of Kaeya’s mockery warms even your cold prankster heart.

“Diluc,” You whisper lowly, not wanting Kaeya to hear. It was unlikely he would anyways, as every time he looked up at the two of you in the bed in front of him, Kaeya would burst out into peals of laughter once more. “Where’s the other onesie?”

Diluc looks at you, confused. “It’s in the laundry room. It should be dry now.” Before Diluc can ask you why you need to know such information, you’re breaking free of his grip, stumbling out of the bed, shoving past Kaeya and nearly sprinting out of the room in a hurry. Kaeya and Diluc both watch you leave, equally bewildered.

“Why are you here?” You hear Diluc ask his brother as you flee the room, but you don’t stick around for the rest of their conversation. They can be emotionally constipated together, you have more important things to do. Seizing the freshly-cleaned onesie, you shut the laundry door and shimmy it over your current pajamas, one of Diluc’s old shirts and a pair of old shorts. You have to hop around a bit to get the fabric to settle in just the right places and, dear Barbatos, this thing is uncomfortable. 

Diluc must really love you to put up with this outfit every night. Before you can melt into a puddle of goo at the thought of your essentially perfect boyfriend who would do nearly anything for you, you storm out of the laundry room and back into the bedroom, climbing back into bed with Diluc wordlessly, settling your legs underneath the covers and guiding Diluc’s arm back to its rightful place around your waist.

You press another kiss to Diluc’s cheek as he stares at you with an unreadable expression. Despite having recovered from his earlier flustered state, his cheeks quickly return to the shade of red you adore so much. Unfortunately for you, you didn’t stick on this onesie just to shamelessly ogle your boyfriend and kiss him senseless. No, you wore it to spite the man in front of the two of you, whose expression is now morphed into one of horror.

“There’s two of them?! One was already a crime against humanity, but two?!” Kaeya is aghast at such a concept. Diluc’s gaze breaks off you and he tightens his grip around your waist as he glowers at his brother.

“We have a third one if you wish to continue intruding in our home,” Diluc proposes, his voice having a slight edge to it. Kaeya holds his hands up later.

“Alright. I’ll see you later then. Bye, (Y/N)~!” Kaeya quickly ejects himself from the conversation, not even bothering to spare his brother a goodbye in his hurry to leave before a onesie can be thrust upon you.

“You look adorable,” Diluc confesses before pressing a kiss to your forehead. This time, it’s your turn to fluster and you look away, startled by his forwardness. “I always like seeing you in my clothes.”

“Oh… thank you,” You murmur sheepishly, but Diluc grabs your chin and lightly guides your face to look at him. A shiteating grin breaks out across his face.

“I appreciate your support, darling, but isn’t it time we stop this ruse?” Diluc questions and your eyes widen in surprise. “Unfortunately, my brother is correct. These outfits are quite… awful.”

“I like them!” You interject, unsure as to why you’re defending the outfits you had just been wishing for the destruction of.

“Is that so?” Diluc challenges, eyebrows raised as you nod your head furiously. A soft chuckle escapes his lips. “(Y/N), I know I might be dumb at times, especially when it comes to you, but surely you can’t think I’m dumb enough to believe this lie.”

You narrow your eyes at him and fold your arms in contempt. “There is no way you’ve called my bluff this early. Kaeya told you I was fucking with you, didn’t he?”

Diluc’s smug attitude is replaced with that of a scolded puppy, unable to look you in the eyes. “... Yes.”

You can’t help but press yet another kiss to his face, this time gracing his jaw as you pepper light kisses down his neck. “You’re correct. I absolutely loathe these ugly clothes. It’s not even Christmas anymore. But I’d be damned if I was going to let that gremlin insult something of yours.”

Diluc laughs genuinely and he brings your face close to his, pressing your lips together in a sweet, chaste kiss, before pulling away far too soon for your liking.

“Sorry to interrupt, but I should probably change now that the joke is over,” Diluc explains. You raise your eyebrows at him and he lets out a sigh. “The fabric is itchy.” Your boyfriend clambers out of bed and you unabashedly watch him change into a more comfortable outfit, admiring the way his lithe muscles move as he puts on a new shirt. Diluc turns around and looks at you expectantly.

“Aren’t you going to change too?” He asks as he climbs back under the covers with you, but you softly smile and shake your head in response. 

“No,” You coo. “I think it’ll stay on for tonight.” You wrap your arms around his waist, nuzzling into his shoulder exaggeratedly.

Diluc groans at your words and you realize he shares the same hatred of the onesies that you do. But, as Diluc’s chief prankster, you’re determined to get the last laugh, even if the dumb fabric scratches against you all night.

#not sure how i feel about this one tbh! it's certainly a different style of writing i feel #but reader in this is extremely similar to my own personality (for once) #diluc x reader #diluc ragnvindr x reader #genshin impact x reader #diluc headcanons #diluc scenarios #*writing #*diluc #*fic

[cherri-cherri]

× Little Flower ×

-----------×-----------

Pairings - Ryoumen Sukuna x Reader

Synopsis - No one was allowed to touch you as you were his. Those who dared would suffer a fate worse than death...

Warnings - Possible Grammar Errors, Slight Gore, Swear Words

A/N - This fic here is pretty short but I wanted to write this after having a weird dream with flowers and Sukuna. I honestly have mixed feelings about this one but I hope you all enjoy! - 🍒

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"Speak, girl. Do you know why you stand here on trial here today?" A voice called out to you from above but you simply kept your head hanging down to stare at the stacks of dry wood pressed under your feet. Your body ached due to the countless bruises and cuts littering your skin and the tightness of the ropes cutting into your bound wrists weren't helping at all in the slightest.

"Y/N L/N, do you understand why you stand before us?" The voice repeated again, this time a rough hand grabbing ahold of your hair and gripping it tightly, forcing you to stare up at the man before you.

"Cat has your tongue? Well then, let me remind you that you were caught giving aid to the king of curses. No doubt spreading your legs for him like that harlot you are" his words only mirrored the disgusted look in his cold grey eyes, glaring down at you as his grip on your hair only tightened. Sad to think that you would be used to this knowing your uncle was not a kind or gentle man and yet his words only stung.

"...I did no such thing....He was hurt and I was trying to help, I was–" Letting out a yelp as your cheek burned from the slap your uncle gave you, you felt tears prickling your eyes as he leaned in closer.

"Liar!! Someone saw you with him, saw you hold him! It is obvious that your vile ways allowed him to take over your mind and possess you!" Yelling at the top of his lungs, you heard others around you cheering the man on as some even chimed in. So many hateful words, so many people who you believed to friends and family only for all of them to look at you with such disdain and anger. Tears began to form until your uncle released you and stepped away, "There is only one way to save your soul now before he swallows it whole. The flames will send you to the afterlife and maybe then, you will be saved."

Your heart dropped after hearing that. You were going to die, all because of giving a monster sanctuary, all because you tried to be kind. Men carrying large clay pots came to the stake you were bound to and then began splashing you with oil. Coughing as the liquid was poured ontop of your head, you heard the chanting of the people all around you, screaming and yelling for your death over and over again as your uncle came walking back towards you while holding up a lit torch.

This was the end. Your miserable life ending at such a horrible note, it made you let out a small saddened chuckle as you slowly closed your eyes and waited for the fire to engulf your completely until nothing but ash reminded.

You waited..

And waited..

The ropes wrapped around your wrists were soon sliced off and at the same time, you hear a few thuds collapsing onto gravel not too far away from you. When you opened your eyes, you found yourself staring at your uncle. Your now headless uncle. The blood erupting from his neck like a geyser as the body slumped down to its knees, occasionally twitching as the blood sprayed across your face and ragged dress. The color drained from your face completely as you stared down at the blood on your clothes, horrified until a large tattooed around wrapped itself around your waist. Freezing completely, you looked back forward to see the villagers beginning to flee until those who even took a step back were diced into cubed pieces.

"Any human who moves another muscle will die." A rough voice called out behind you, sending your heart to panic. Turning your head slightly to the side, you saw him.

Ryoumen Sukuna.

His eyes darted down towards you, crimson hues staring into your watery E/C eyes and he simply gave you a toothy grin. "Come on now, Y/N, you shouldn't give such a frightened look to your knight in shining armor. I just saved your life."

"Y-you killed them.. " you muttered, causing Sukuna to roll his eyes as he lifted you in the air before placing you down onto his shoulder to carry you. "And? I don't see what's wrong here. You're alive, they're dead. Now that we've been over that, I think you owe me a reward—"

"I knew it..." a woman said from the crowd, her knuckles turning white from how hard she was gripping her fists. She stared at the two of you with fear in her eyes, more so you than Sukuna. "Y-you were sleeping with him..you dirty whore...letting a monster in this village. Letting a curse spread in this village!" As she screamed out, blood soon enough trickled down her lips as she felt a pain in her chest before a growing numbness. Looking down, the woman saw nothing but a gaping hole in the middle of her chest, blood dribbling down the emptiness to the stomach until she slowly collapsed on her back. Others around her screamed out, some moving from the places they were standing before being sliced in half or trisected into parts. You gasped out, covering your mouth as you felt bile rising up.

"S-she did nothing wrong!" You yelled to Sukuna as he only stared at the remaining people in the crowd with a smirk. "Wrong...As far as I see, everyone here has committed a great sin."

Crimson stained the once grey pathway as people are killed by the curse one after another. A few brave (or foolish) souls attempted to even rush at Sukuna only to make it as far as five steps forward before their insides became their outsides. A woman tried to beg for her life by offering herself as Sukuna's personal slave, even going as far as to give away to lives of her children but once again it proved nothing as she too was killed.

It didn't take long for Sukuna to kill off the rest of the villagers, regardless of their age or even if they were innocent or not. They were all killed and slaughtered brutally without mercy, their blood mixing together as the smell of their corpses began to reek. You stared down at the headless corpse of your uncle, eyes dulled as you thought perhaps it would've been better if the fire had claimed you. Then no one wouldve been killed. No, no that wasn't true.

It would've been better if you never met him. If you simply continued on your way and left him bleeding out for the shamans to find. If you had never opened your heart to the curse..then no one would've died. Then no one would've been killed. Feeling a hand brush your hair gently with his nails and combing a strain behind your ear, you were snapped out of your thoughts. Sukuna pulled you closer towards him with one arm and wrapped each of his arms around your small frame before pressing his lips onto your forehead.

"They didn't have to die..." your voice was practically a whisper at this point, hoarse and dry from the screaming and begging for him to stop. Sukuna merely chuckled as he released you, "Do you feel guilty?"

"What sort of question is that supposed to be? Of course I do...." Saying that you didn't would only be half of the truth. Sure you were angry with how they were so quick to hurt you and kill you but then again, if you knew this was what Sukuna was capable, you would've accepted the punishment. You should've listened, should've stayed away from him that night yet apart of you knew that this perhaps wouldn't have changed much.

"I don't see why when because of you, your people get to live on..."

Those words got your attention as they left you confused. Before you could even question him however, you heard a small weak voice speaking out towards it. "You've doomed us all, girl..."

You could've swore that it was your uncle speaking to you and yet you knew that was impossible seeing as his vocal cords were severed alongside his head. But when your eyes slowly looked over to the severed head, you saw a large flower growing where the blood pooled over. It might have been beautiful if it wasnt for the fact that your uncle's face was on the flower, darkened eyes staring at you. Gasping out, you covered you mouth and took a step back, pressing your back into the warm chest of Sukuna as he pointed over towards the other bodies littered around the execution ground.

A variety of flowers had sprouted forth from the blood soaked ground, each with the faces of the dead villagers as they yelled and screamed out in agony at you. So many cried out your name, children who were unfortunately brought here wailed as their mothers simply screamed out multiple swears at you. Speechless, you froze at the sight as more flowers simply began to grow up around the two of you and were only spreading. Small vines began to creep towards you, only to be sliced away when it got too far, not to you but to Sukuna.

"Regret, anger, hatred, sadness. So much negative energy, so much rage here. I wanted to repay my little flower and what else to gift her with than a garden of her own." He hunching over and reaching for one the screaming flowers, he plucked it forth from the ground as the face on it contorted in pain before it began to beg for mercy. "Flowers for my flower. Though none of this compare to you." Sukuna chuckled, placing the plant onto the back of your ear before combing a strand of your hair.

You felt disgusted as the flower's voice grew more and more faint, it practically whispering in your ear for himself to be spared such a fate. You could do nothing but silently say how sorry you were yet your hushed apologies were drowned out by the voices of your new cursed garden.

#jjk x reader #jujutsu kaisen #jjk #jujutsu kaisen x reader #sukuna x reader #ryomen sukuna #ryoumen sukuna #jjk angst #jjk sukuna

[diavolosthots]

A lot of hcs have the brothers reacting with violence against any demon that hurts mc- how do you think they’d respond if mc was like.. REALLY uncomfortable with that? Either bc mc thinks that the demon should have a chance to learn from their mistake, or bc they’re scared when the bros lash out like that, or whatever reason.

God i love the violent protective headcanons so much because it truly captures their demonic natures and, in my opinion, how demons are with their chosen mates buuuttttttttt..... Yeah i can see how some people are uncomfortable with that

Warning: mentions of violent thoughts/some like... Tight gripping, but no actual, full on violence

THE BROTHERS reacting to MC being hurt by a demon and wanting them to have a second chance/being scared (??? Idk that’s the title I came up with, fight me later if it doesn’t make sense now.)

Lucifer:

His first instinct is always, and will always be, to protect you. In his eyes, you’re still this small, fragile, innocent human being, even if you’re not. Even if you’re his height and bench as much as Beelzebub physically, you’re still not a match for a demon and he hates to think that one could get too close, and then it happens. Obviously, he’s full on demon form and ready to teach someone a lesson, but then you stop him, and he’s confused. “Don’t worry Darling, I will handle them.” What’s that? You don’t want him to handle them? Are you out of your mind? “MC they hurt you and they shall pay the price.” A second chance? Do you know what demons are? Look, now the demon is laughing! But… for your sake, Lucifer is backing down. For now. 

“If they do it again, I won’t hesitate MC; this is for your safety. Demons don’t usually change for the better. No, you can not use me as an example.” 

Mammon:

Here’s the thing: chances are, Mammon would talk way more than he would actually fight, anyway. He’d go on a whole speech about how you’re his and he’s there to protect you and how you will never have to worry about anything with him around. Then that demon would get the same lecture and honestly, he’s probably going to bore the demon to death more than anything so you, realistically, don’t have to worry about him being violent, anyway, UNLESS the demon swings at him first because then it’s okay and sorry MC, but this got a little too personal. Just one punch, okay? And then he’ll literally grab you and run for it because even Mammon knows he won’t last long. 

“Listen this ain’t cuz yer scared or I’m scared. This is cuz I can’t let ya get hurt!.... Again!” (Spoiler: it’s because he won’t last long due to his constant worry about you)

Leviathan:

Hold up. Wait a minute. You’re telling him that, after everything he’s been through, everything he’s done, every rough path he had to take to get you, you’re telling him now that he can’t protect you because this lowlife scum deserves a SECOND CHANCE?! Give him a moment, he needs to calm down. Not only is he jealous because someone else managed to get their hands on you but also, “MC are you stupid?! They hurt you!” Like, he genuinely thinks you’re insane. But then he also immediately feels bad for calling you stupid and he’s having a mental debate on what’s more important: avenging you and being a lowkey hero, or giving into your wish and making you happy…. “Ugh….Fine! Fine… but you’re not going anywhere alone ever again!” And also…. He might’ve, totally, tripped that demon with his tail as he takes you back home. Just enough for them to faceplant. No actual violence. 

“They deserved that much…. What? I didn’t do it…..!” Yes he did.

Satan:

Oof. Anger. Rage. Wrath. Fire. It’s all inside of him and he is, quite literally, fuming. His demon form suddenly feels too tight and he wishes he could emerge into his full form without actually causing you to have a heart attack. You’re practically begging him to calm down, “calm down?!” And he’s having none of it. Someone touched what was his and they hurt you doing that, “S-Satan…” but your voice is scared and laced with fear and although he thinks it’s because of the demon at first, “Don’t worry, this worthless excuse of a life won’t be here much longer,” he soon realizes it’s actually he that is scaring you and it catches him off guard. Why are you scared? He’s protecting you! It hurts his heart, though, to see you be so afraid of them and he’s mentally battling himself. He can’t let them get away with this; it would go against his own personal morals and beliefs, but also…

“Let’s… let’s go home… I’ll make some hot chocolate for you and we can… calm down.” 

Asmodeus:

He tries to avoid conflict as much as possible, half because he doesn’t want to get his hands dirty, and half because he doesn’t like it. If anyone deserves to be a drama queen, it’s him, not anyone else. So you telling him, as he’s about to fight for the first time in a couple millennia, to please not… kind of sets him at ease. “Are you sure?” but he also needs to make sure that this is exactly what you want. He doesn’t like it, of course, because he does firmly believe people deserve to be held accountable for their actions, but he would hate to see you upset with him when he could just… 

“don’t forget to put facial cleanser on tonight and drink water. Your ugliness needs to be washed off and your soul could use some hydration. Hatred out, flowers in!”

Beelzebub:

Oh he’s ready to not only throw hands, he’s ready to tear someone apart. Angry Beel is a scary Beel and he takes a sense of… pride when people fear him, but only if they SHOULD fear him, you know? Laying hands on you is a BIG no no and he won’t treat it lightly. Whatever your relationship with him may be, he protects the people he cares about and his fist is pulling back way too quickly for you to say stop “Beel!” but you’re scared and he halts because he can hear it in your voice and immediately pauses, turning to look at you. He still has a tight grip on them and he’s still ready to tear them to pieces, but you’re also trembling now and his wings slowly lower, thinking he had done something wrong. “I’m… sorry….” stop? You want him to stop? He doesn’t like that… “What if they hurt you again? I can’t let that happen….” he can’t, in good conscience he can’t….. 

“You’re off the hook for now, but let me catch you near MC again and there’s nothing you will be able to do but tell your little life goodbye.”

Belphegor:

Look, MAYBE he’s being a little hypocritical right now, okay? Yeah he totally kind of did the same thing to you but that’s exactly why he’s doing better now! He realizes how wrong he was and how he should’ve never done that, you know, all that good 180 degree turn around stuff, but also??? How dare someone else do that??? “I’m not letting them go MC. Not until they have paid. And you just have to stand there and watch as Belphegor jokes them with his tail and for a while that may work BUT…. he hates the look you gave him when he turns back toward you. It breaks his heart, although he would only reluctantly admit that, so he drops them to the ground and looks at you a bit ashamed. “Fine… I won’t… not today…” and you’re lucky he’s lazy and that tail-lift already took a lot out of him. “But it can’t happen again. I won’t be this nice next time MC.” ain’t no one allowed to mess with you! 

“Just because I made a mistake doesn’t mean you can. Run before I decide to squash you anyway.” 

#obey me shall we date #obey me #obey me headcanons #obey me scenarios #cheys headcanons #asmodeus obey me #belphegor obey me #mammon obey me #obey me lucifer #obey me leviathan #obey me satan #obey me beelzebub #mentions of violence

[stellocchia]

Okay, now that I have a bit of time it’s time to analize that disaster of a custody battle stream, also known as Tommy and Wilbur visiting Las Nevadas!

As always this is gonna be quite long so I’ll put everything under the cut and remember that I’ll only be talking about the characters. Also for the dialogues the colors are: Quackity, Tommy and Wilbur

One thing that I would like to point out before we get into it is that c!Tommy is pretty much spiraling throughout this stream (he dissociates and shows his suicidal tendencies more clearly) so it’s good to keep this in mind when analizing his actions and words. 

First of all here’s Wilbur’s pov of it: Wilbur's POV

And here’s Tommy’s: Tommy's POV

I’ll be using both for this.

One thing that is immediately interesting to notice is that, despite supposedly living with Phil we mostly see Wilbur around L’Manhole.

“Have you been sewing? Knitting? That can be a dangerous sport if done too quickly” (just wanted to point out the tailor!Tommy bit)

So first of all is the confirmation that the stone never had a use beyond keeping Tommy occupied back when Wilbur asked for it. The task of gathering the stone could also have been a test on Wilbur’s part to test Tommy’s obedience considering that it was a tedious and apparently sensless task that most people would not have taken on.

Afterwards we have an interesting little bit where Wilbur demonstrates that he is still extremely knowledgable when it comes to tnt, knowing which blocks are more resistent to it and even being able to deduce that the ufo was blown up from the inside (something he’ll lie about later). 

“Someone’s a little copycat. Hey tommy someone’s a little copycat~” (in reference to what happened to Purpled’s ufo. This could be interpreted as derogatory we’ll have to see if Wilbur appreciates someone imitating his work)

Quackity’s book is then introduced, though at first Wilbur is very vague about it’s contents before straight up lying about them (saying that it said: “My dearest friend Wilbur, I’ve really missed seeing you, come to project Nevadas your best friend Quackity”), here’s the actual contents of it:

It is possible that he didn’t mention the actual content to Tommy because he was afraid Tommy would have kept him from meeting Quackity if he knew that he seemingly agreed with Wilbur’s ideology, though this is just a theory. 

Another interesting thing is that Wilbur keeps referring to Ghostbur’s resurrection site as his “tombstone” despite Tommy having already told him last time that he didn’t get one. Perhaps this is a show of Wilbur’s own fear of being forgotten or of having been inconsequential to the bigger narrative (his continued search for the confirmation that he did have a big impact would seem to point to this).

“Will, I’m accustomed to people lying to me. Just tell me: will the book, whatever is in there, bring us more primes?” (this is an interesting way for Tommy to let Wilbur know that he knows he’s lying while still trying to keep the conversation more light herted)

On their way to Las Nevadas there is an interesting instance of Wilbur standing still near a creeper instead of trying to protect himself so that Tommy has to intervene (similar instances happen multiple times throughout the stream) which could be a portrayal of his self-destructive tendencies and kinda mirrors Tommy's behaviour in exile. 

“Every person we’ve spoken to aside from say, I don’t know, Jack Manifold. Every person aside from Jack Manifold has taken a bit of a disliking to me. Oh and Phil, Phil was lovely too, and you actually! Come to think of it the 3 people I care about most, Jack Manifold, you and Phil, have been the nicest to me”

There are a few things I wanna say here: first of all there is one manipulation tactic that consists of making yourself out to be the victim in a certain situation in order to gain pity, sympathy or evoke compassion in the other and that’s what Wilbur has been doing both in this stream and in the past when mentioning that people hate him despite every single person he met (aside from Tommy himself) actually being rather kind and accomodating. This does probably come from Wilbur’s own self-hatred and his view of himself as a villain but, once again, I would like to remind you that manipulation is still manipulation even if you believe in what you’re saying. 

The second point I wanted to talk about briefly was the line about only caring about the 3 people he mentioned. Aside from how truthful he is about all 3 of them (I’m sorry but I have a hard time believing that he cares deeply for Jack Manifold when he didn’t even used to remember who he was) he also later mentions that there are other people he would like to see, basically it’s like the L’Manburg situation: just because Wilbur says he doesn’t care about something it doesn’t mean that it’s true.

“They told me it was like a small little town where Big Q sells funny potions and liquids from his van” (so from Tommy’s understanding Las Nevadas was a mix between the drug van and og L’Manburg. I wonder if we’ll find out who gave him this idea)

Little note about Wilbur throwing Linda (Tommy’s prized shovel) away twice during this stream almost casually.

“Tommy stand back. Tommy stand back” (Wilbur interposing himself between Tommy and a situation that might be dangerous, I’ll talk about this a bit later but keep it in mind)

“I’ll tell you what: it’s nice to see you out of that stupid vice president shirt. You know I never thought you were fit for that vice president thing anyway, I think that this is- this is- what- what are you like the concierge of this area? Like the cleaner?” “This is so nice!” “I don’t know what to call it Wilbur all I know is that this is my place. This is mine. I own this place”

It is interesting to note that Wilbur apparently did not think too highly of Quackity, immediately assuming he must be and employee rather then having a leading position, he even expresses that he didn’t think Quackity was fit to even be vice president. It’s also interesting to point out that Tommy gets immediately uncomfortable with where the conversation is going and splits off from the two to explore while also being extra obnoxious in an attempt to split up the fight he knew to be coming (he is always rather perceptive), to which Quackity responds only with amusement (actually humouring Tommy), while Wilbur simply ignores it for the time being. 

“If I’d known there was a place I could align myself to as quickly as this I would have done it sooner” (could be both a search for community as well as him generally prefering being aligned to a country as he comments later on that he’s not a fan of anarchy by mentioning that him and Phil don’t see eye to eye on this)

This is when Wilbur brings up Quackity’s book for the second time mentioning that he assumed it was an invite to joing Quackity in Las Nevadas, which turns out it wasn’t. 

“So that’s the invitation to work alongside you I assume, I- I accept. I accept. I’d love to come in” “Big Q I also wanted... can I move into the big- the big penis?” “*laugh* No Tommy. Wilbur, Wilbur” “Yeah?” “No? No?” “That was... that was not an invitation I’m sorry Wilbur” *Wilbur checks the book again* “That’s not an invitation. Wilbur, Wilbur, my nation will not be subject to your... unpredictability, alright? Thank you so much for coming, thank you so much for visiting Wilbur but, uhm... I don’t need any- I don’t need any extra members right now” 

So taking this conversation a bit at a time: Quackity is the first person since Wilbur has come back (aside from Tommy, but Tommy’s opinion really doesn’t matter to Wilbur) who hasn’t tried to accomodate him. He set his own rules and stuck by them not willing to budge on it at all. Also it is interesting to note that Quackity so far doesn’t seem to be interested in letting Tommy join either, only changing his demeanour later after Tommy calls Wilbur out on his lying. This change of mind could both be tied to a crack he noticed in Tommy’s loyalty to Wilbur as well as done to spite Wilbur himself. Or both really. 

“[Las Nevadas] It’s like one of those visions you have after being in the mines for several hours” (Tommy mentioning having hallucinations once again)

“No... no, you’ve got it all wrong. You’ve got it all wrong man. Okay okay, maybe, maybe I was unprdictable in the past” “But it’s really nice...” “But I’ve turned over a new leaf Quackity! I don’t lie anymore, I don’t- I don’t, you know, I don’t deceive, I know nothing about tnt anymore. I’ve forgotten everything I knew about tnt, it’s ridiculous I-” “*snicker* Ok- mmm, well... Will, well” “Is he lying Tommy?”

Also here we have a clearer example of Wilbur lying and deceiving right after asserting that he doesn’t do it anymore (he deceived Tommy on the book and lied about his knowledge on tnt) together with Tommy calling him out on it.

“This is the best place on the server! This is like heaven! Paradise!” “Quackity we can stay, right?” “You seem to like it a lot Tommy” 

Immediately afterwards there’s where Quackity seems to change his mind about letting Tommy stay while also ignoring Wilbur in the process. Again we really don’t have any definitive indication for the reason why he changes his mind, it could be because he saw how much Tommy liked it here as much as it could be to spite Wilbur. Any conclusion for either is pure speculation.

“Quackity look at me, look at me in the eyes. I. Am. Your. Servant. I am at your service. I have run countries, I’ve won elections, I’ve done everything that you will need in a leadership role, Quackity. Even not in leadership! I can- I can be, you know, assistent to president”

Another less known form of manipulation. Wilbur wants power within this new country so he offers to cover a more “subservient” position to have Quackity let his guard down so that he can achieve his role. 

“Will this is so cool!” “Tommy SHUT UP!” “Hey! What a fu- hey what a fuck?!” (a bit of Wilbur’s “affable” persona slipping away paired up with Tommy immediately noticing that that was not okay and calling Wilbur out on it)

“Wilbur listen to me: I saw what you did to L’Manburg and I’m not letting Las Nevadas have the same fate as L’Manburg. I appreciate Tommy here, I appreciate you checking this place out Wilbur but, I don’t need your services, I don’t need your presence, you’re very unpredictable” (Quackity once more standing his ground and repeating that he does not trust Wilbur in the slightest and also reaffirming that he does want Tommy there instead)

It’s interesting to notice that all throughout this exchange, while Tommy was off exploring Quackity was the one often paying attention to him while Wilbur ignored him the whole time before snapping.

“So we’re not allowed?” “Tommy, I need to talk to you Tommy” “Am I allowed? Or is it just Will?” “Well, I’d love to discuss it with you” (Quackity is the first person that actually directly addressed Tommy while ignoring Wilbur since Wilbur’s resurrection and that’s quite interesting. It could be that perhaps he noticed that Wilbur seems to consider Tommy almost like an extension of himself and that he tried to drive a wedge into that)

The next few minutes are spent with Wilbur trying to find out exactly where the confines of Las Nevadas are.

“Tommy come with me. Tommy at my side please” (addressing him like a soldier again)

There is a back and forth between Wilbur and Quackity where Quackity tries to deflect Wilbur’s question about his ownership of the adiacent forest multiple times, but Wilbur does end up finding out that it’s not Quackity’s land. (Wilbur also has a throwaway comment about that forest being Paradise in response to Tommy calling Las Nevadas that which Tommy disagrees on).

“What’s the point in capitalism without healthy competition?” (Wilbur announcing he wants to create a country next to Quackity’s)

“Wait, where are you going?” “Just over here Tommy. Stay by my side, by my side” (once again an emphasis on wanting Tommy nearby, which isn’t new)

“You know what Wilbur? You’re right: capitalism strives on competition and I’m ready for all the competition you can bring me” (Wilbur is positively giddy at this declaration, which makes me think that he does truly see this competition mostly as a game)

“Will I don’t want to start a country, I very much like that country there” *Tommy points at Las Nevadas* “With the stone-” “Tommy we- we’ll discuss this in a minute” “No...” “No no no, Tommy seems to have some concerns about building a country from the ground up” (Tommy under) “Listen, listen, guys, guys, I was over there” (Quackity over) “So how about you take Tommy’s opinion into consideration? For once, for once in your life since you’ve never done so before” (Tommy under) “Can we please listen to me? You [Quackity] are not lis- you’re not lis- you’re actually speaking over me”

This is the first one of many conversations this stream where the fight has moved from the power pissing context Wilbur and Quackity had going on to Tommy. It’s also where they starting weaponizing him more and more (his traumas as well as the other’s treatment of him) while each trying to prove that they’re better for him then the other. Of course this isn’t actually about Tommy, it’s about power once again. Quackity has undeniably noticed by now how Wilbur treats Tommy (aka as an extension of himself) together with being pissed that Wilbur challenged him on his own territory (challenging Las Nevadas which is Quackity’s most prized possession) so he decided to repay him in kind. 

From here on out Tommy seems to spiral more, standing up for himself less, looking more and more uncomfortable (especially when the other two start bringing up his traumatic experiences) and slipping back into dissociation and self-loathing behaviour.

“You showed great interest for my country Tommy and I would like to speak to you about that” “Yes” “Wilbur I don’t think you’ll hold Tommy down and make him join your country” “I have utter fate that Tommy will make the right decision” (both of them starting to put pressure on him, subtly influencing him with their wording) 

Tommy and Quackity have a chat together alone (though Wilbur is listening in). 

First thing that happens is Quackity bringing up the hotel which Wilbur implies later was done maliciously, though we don’t know if Quackity knew that the ownership of it didn’t go back to Tommy once he came back to life.

Afterwards Tommy asks Quackity about his scar. 

“If I’m gonna speak to you I want you to be honest with me, ‘cause I’ve spent quite a lot of time with people who just bullshit me, they lie to me and I’m not doing that anymore” (this is one of Tommy’s 2 priorities in life right now. What he wants can be boiled down to honesty and safety)

Quackity does explain honestly what happened, though the information that they spent their time hunting down Techno while Tommy was in exile instead of trying to help him does understandably upset Tommy quite a bit. (Also Wilbur finally makes himself a sword).

“But if this [butcher army] was while I was in exile you’re meaning to tell me that you put in all of the effort to kill Techno instead of helping me?” (...) “You know I needed help and no one came to see me” (this set back his mentality regarding exile quite a bit I’d guess. The anger is more then understandable)

Quackity doesn’t deny the accusations but he does deflect a bit saying that they can talk about it another time and that he is not Tommy’s enemy to which Tommy agrees.

“How would you like to run the official food business of Las Nevadas” (this is Quackity’s big offer for Tommy)

(Wilbur putting pressure on Tommy in the meantime)

After this Wilbur intervenes directly inquiring on wether or not they were done. Quackity tries to get in a last minute sale pitch to Tommy who is getting quite overwhelmed and asks for some time to think (which he is now given by Quackity, but not later by Wilbur)

Wilbur also expresses worry for Tommy’s safety while they’re coming back, though how sincere it is it’s unknown (I think it's at least partially sincere worry, but I doubt that's all there is to it). That said I want to say that multiple times in this stream Wilbur has seemingly shown to be protective of Tommy when it comes to Quackity, often almost treating him as if he was incapable of defending himself (as if he couldn’t 1v2 the two of them easily). For example here, even though Tommy said that he can take care of himself Wilbur immediately responds out loud with an: “okay I’m coming” and bringing out his sword.

“Listen Tommy I heard what he was saying to you man and you don’t seriously believe that do you?” (keeping the question very open so that Tommy can interject his own doubts. Also Quackity technically didn’t lie once to Tommy and, while there was a bit of deflection on his part so far he hasn’t been all that manipulative if I’m being honest)

Wilbur proceeds to tell Tommy that if he stays with Quackity he’ll be nothing more then a caterer (strongly implying that that’s not something he wants) and Tommy chimes in saying that that’s not for him.

“Listen Tommy I’m not gonna stop you but, I’ll be honest with you man, you’re all I’ve got” (set up for the guilt tripping later as well as once again putting himself in the position of the victim so that Tommy won’t leave him. Also he denies that Jack and Phil count as well because the first is too busy and he doesn’t agree with the political views of the latter)

“I wanna make a place where we can be safe for once. Tommy it’s been so long since we felt safe and man you deserve it. You’ve been through so much, you’ve done so much, Tommy you’ve changed the world! And all you’ve got to show for it is some scars and some trauma. Tommy you deserve this safety and this sanctuary and that’s why I wanna make it with you and you won’t get it over there”

Now this should sound familiar to quite a few people, mostly because it’s pretty similar to the tactic that Quackity himself uses. First identify the victim’s vulnerabilities and their desires (Tommy only wants 2 things and only one is connected to physical places so safety it is). Second relate to the victims experiences repeating that they do deserve to get what they so desperately want (check back Quackity’s conversation with Fundy if you want to see that done really well). And lastly emphasise that you’re the only one who can give them what they want.

“You know what has substance Tommy? Family. Blood” (what sparked back the canon sbi discourse)

“I haven’t- I don’t wanna make my mind now ‘cause it’s- it feels like-” “Tommy you need to make your mind now” (putting a ton of pressure onto Tommy, enough that Tommy is reminded of his time in prison)

“Tommy I love a challenge” (considering the context and the fact that this is in response to Tommy hesitating on who to join this is most definitely about him. Wilbur definitely still considers this, at least partially, part of his and Quackity’s game)

“If you pick Las Nevadas what am I gonna do? Man, what am I gonna do? I’d never hurt you. I’d never want anything bad for you Tommy” (mixing in a bit of guilt tripping with a bit of lies. Now, it’s probably not a lie that he wouldn’t want something bad for Tommy, but the thing about never hurting him? I mean, this stream is a proof of the cotrary)

“You can go with whatever you want, but just know what you’d do to me” (once again painting himself as the victim while guilt tripping Tommy)

“I put a lot of things to the side that I shouldn’t of. I prioritized the wrong things, I put revenge over humanity. I guess all I’m seeking right now is someone who’ll be honest with me and a place where I can feel safe”

Here it is, we got Tommy’s desire spelled out by him. This is what makes him so vulnerable to Wilbur’s manipulation, the fact that Wilbur knows how to pretend that he can offer this. Also the first part of this is another recognition of how unhealthy his mindset was while he was with Technoblade, which makes him saying that he betrayed Techno and feels guilty about that afterwards even more sad because he recognizes that being with Techno was not good for him but still bashes himself over leaving him even if he really didn’t have any other choice if he wanted to stay true to himself. It’s quite tragic and it’s once more a show of his self-loathing. 

“This can be a safe place for them [Techno and Tubbo]” (Wilbur is using the informations Tommy provided him in a moment of open vulnerability to manipulate him further)

Tommy then agrees to stay with Wilbur though he seems far from enthusiastic about it. He seems to believe Wilbur when he says he's gonna make a safe space for him and the people he cares about, but also seems hesitant to fully trust him.

“Big Q is gonna wish he never fucked with me” (still in regard to challenging Wilbur’s perceived ownership of Tommy)

The stream is far from over though. After that conversation between Wilbur and Tommy they start to build a stone penis over the lake and Wilbur and Quackity get in a very heated argument that leaves Tommy incredibly uncomfortable. The whole conversation consists in Wilbur and Quackity shouting at each other about things the other has done to Tommy (all traumatic for him) while Tommy makes himself smaller and shuts down. First Qauckity accuses Wilbur of emotionally manipulating Tommy (which is true), then Wilbur accuses Quackity of using the hotel against Tommy (which wasn’t actually true) and they keep going like that. 

“The one thing [the hotel] Tommy’s tried to do was a failure” (way to undermine achievements like putting Dream behind bars there... however to be exact this is a manipulation tactic known as “shaming” which consists in undermining the victim’s worth to foster feelings of inadequacy which makes them more vulnerable. It’s a tactic Wilbur has used quite often since Pogtopia)

“Great job Wilbur of doing to Tomminnit what you’ve done your entire fucking life” (Quackity does sound actually upset) 

“Don’t try to compare me to you Wilbur, me and you are not the same” (this does align to Quackity’s desire to not live in other people shadows any longer)

“Hey hey hey hey, don’t come near Tommy, don’t come near Tommy” “Will, Will, hey hey, let me speak! This is about me so let me speak! I don’t know I-” “I just don’t want him to hurt you. I just don’t want him to hurt you” “I can fend for myself. You weren’t here for a long time. I thought, I thought you [Wilbur] were gonna make me feel a little bit safer, let me tell you now either of you-” “Fellas fellas” “No shut the fuck up! I didn’t feel- that didn’t make me feel- that was weird, I didn’t- don’t do that either of you” 

Now this is both Wilbur once again babying Tommy and treating him as if he’s not capable of taking care of himself (it could be done out of sincere care, but that doesn’t make it any less patronizing) and Tommy actually standing up for himself. Tommy made himself as little as possible during their confrontation and didn’t utter a word and now he finally got a bit of confidence back to say that he didn’t like that and both of them still tried to interrupt him. And Wilbur immediately went to say that he won’t do it again, but Quackity will as if he didn’t listen to a word Tommy just said. That said after that Quackity does apologize to Tommy specifically (though how sincere that was is debatable and Wilbur also accepts the apology as well even if it wasn’t directed at him) and invites the both of them to have a tour of Las Nevadas. Tommy wanted to refuse the tour because he was already visibly overwhelmed, but Wilbur ignores him and proceeds to accept anyway. 

“Quackity I wanna say from here on, as much as we may have our disagreements here man I- we gotta leave Tommy out of this” (they don’t)

“Tommy I’ll take it back, I’m fine with you working here and still being, you know, as long as you still hang out with me and don’t leave me on my own I have no problems with you working here man” (except they both already put an incredible amount of pressure on him and Will in partucular already made him feel guilty for even considering sort of leaving him)

“At the end of the day it’s okay Tommy, you make your own decisions, but let me keep showing you around the TommyInnit res- uh, I mean the restourant” (very sneaky there Quackity. Naming things creates attachment btw) 

Btw, Quackity and Wilbur are still very tense, but they both put their differences aside in a split second to get Tommy away from the strip club, which honestly is just funny. Also once again Wilbur goes before Tommy inside the casino in case it’s dangerous.

They then gamble for a bit and Tommy bets Linda away and looses it. They then go up in the white tower. 

“This would be such a good point to just jump off and just end it. Woah” “no no no Tommy get down!” “Tommy get down from the rail” (casual reminder that Tommy is still extremely suicidal, though at least this time there was someone there to get him down)

Quackity and Wilbur have a small conversation while Tommy is still checking out the view which mostly consist in Quackity trying to find out more about the Revival Book (while feigning complete ignorance about it). 

Meanwhile while dissociating Tommy puts down some water to the side of the tower and then jumps in it while taking it away (therefore technically jumipng off, but not dying because his fall was slowed down). Quackity notices and immediately panics, while Wilbur places some water down for him so he can get back up. 

“Tommy come here, I’ve got you, I’ve always got you” (both helping and emphasizing his wish for Tommy to depend on him as much as he does on Tommy)

After that they talk for a while and Quackity brings up the conversation that he had with Wilbur which is the moment Wilbur realizes that the “You were right” in the book was referring to the pre-Pogtopia him. Also Wilbur talks about the things he’s lost (years of his life and people are the two things he mentioned). 

“There’s lots of people I wish I could see. Like I wish I could just tell them ‘I’m alive’ and apologize and also thank them” (I do think he’s sincere, but it does make me a bit sad that Tommy was not in the list of people who deserved an apology in Wilbur’s mind)

After that Quackity seems to take an interest in Wilbur’s plans specifically, but, before he can investigate further, Tommy gives him his own answer and declines his offer of manning the restaurant saying that that life is not for him, it’s too relaxed (Wilbur's reaction to it is also worth notice). 

“I don’t wanna run a food stand. Wilbur gets things done” (sorry to Tommy here, but, genuinely, when’s the last time Wilbur got something done without Dream’s or Tommy’s help?)

After this they get back on the topic of the Revive Book and Wilbur reveals that Dream is the one who brought him back. He also admits that he wants to thank Dream for saving him and describes him as his “hero” again. Quackity himself reveals that he has been visiting Dream.

“Oh who cares about Ghostbur?” “Don’t fucking say- don’t- he killed Ghostbur” (once again Tommy should not be here for this conversation considering how triggering the subject is for him)

“I can’t believe- you’re like a misinformed parent, you’re just wrong” (Tommy both pointing out that Wilbur is wrong and admitting that that’s due to a lack of information)

“The prison is not just this thing, this dandelion. No no no, the prison-” “How are you back then Tommy? If you died” “Dream killed me to prove a point. That he- (continues under) he’s omnipotent, he’s got this God complex” “Quackity I need to get in there”

Once again not letting Tommy speak even if Wilbur himself asked the question, though this time it may be because if he listened to Tommy’s story and his experience with Dream he would realize that there are some incongruences between the version of Dream he created in his mind and the real Dream. Between his hero and Tommy’s abuser who beat him to death to prove a point. This split in his mind in how he views Dream was already evident in the last stream with him fip flopping between wanting him dead or not. 

“Tommy, Tommy, I’m not gonna talk shit about them [Sam] without their presence here alright?” (Quackity being protective of his own business patners)

Also Tommy manages to deduce on his own what Quackity has been doing to Dream, though he gets to the conclusion with the wrong clues. Either way after finding out how to visit the prison Wilbur leaves in a hurry telling Tommy to go with him as well.

“I’m a big boy Tommy, I’m a big boy, I’ll be fine” “Wilbur I’m a big man, but I was not fine” (Tommy tries to explain Dream’s danger to Wilbur by making himself vulnerable again, but it doesn’t work as Wilbur doesn’t listen)

Afterwards Wilbur tells Tommy that he is going to the prison and ignores any of Tommy’s concerns on the matter.

“Tommy listen, I didn’t wanna spring things on you because I’m really trying not to be a shit person to you Tommy, right? I’m really really trying. And it’s easy, it’s easy not to be a shit person to you, right? Because we got people like Quackity over there who are just- you know he said it best I’m not gonna talk shit about him behind his back"

If he’s not trying to be a sh*t person to Tommy he is failing miserably. Truly this whole stream he either ignored him, talked over him, talked about incredibly triggering stuff in front of him or tried manipulating him. This was all their interactions summarized. Pettiness aside though, he still badmouths Quackity by handing Tommy the book and telling him that Quackity agreed with the “old Wilbur” (not specifying that he is referring to pre-Pogtopia Wilbur and that he himself still agrees with the “old him”) to villainize him. He also acts like Tommy is being unreasonable for not wanting him to go, despite having died there and having seen Ghostbur die there. Wilbur does say that he won’t go if Tommy really doesn’t want him to, but he leaves telling him they’ll talk about it again right after Tommy tells him this: 

“I don’t think you should do that, he’s more powerful then you think you are”

Left on his own Tommy reminisces of when he went to the prison looking for closure as well. He then borrows an ender chest from Quackity for his and Wilbur’s little stone shack and then goes to the middle of the lake to listen to cat. 

#dream smp #quackity #wilbur soot #tommyinnit #dream smp analysis #character analysis #relationship analysis #tw manipulation #tw abuse mention #tw suicide #long post #I'm fried #this was so long #who made me do it?

[parkers-gal]

yay! okay so I was thinking, what I'd the reader and Tom had a fight, could be over anything, but the reader was pregnant and a few years after, they bump into each other and they get back together. Sorry if it doesn't make sense.

this has been sitting in my inbox for a fat couple of months… sorry 😭

wc: 1.7k ! <3

—

“No, because you’re selfish and you can’t handle the fact that my life doesn’t revolve around you and your needs.” Tom spits out the words angrily, viciously, voice harsh and crisp.

You’re both frustrated beyond belief, and the bubble that had been overblown had finally popped, splattering your relationship and all the joyful aspects of it. Right now, you felt as if all that was left was the toxicity of two unbearable people who happened to love each other. You knew, deep down, that you loved each other enough to get through this, but with every passing moment, with every exchanged word, you realized at least one of you wouldn’t survive the damage.

“No, Tom. You’re selfish. You’re conceited and you only care about being a goddamn movie star. What happened to the family man, huh? What happened to staying tied down with me and your brothers?”

“Nothing happened to him! I’m still that person. I am a family guy.”

“Not to me, you aren't.”

“Well you’re not family!” He seethes through his teeth, anger radiating off of his short-tempered demeanor. You don’t even know how to react, so you spend the time soaking in the situation and how you should respond instead of actually doing it.

“You’re a fucking jackass. I asked when I could spend time with you and now you don’t even consider me as part of the family.”

“No,” He’s clear and concise even through the anger. “You asked when I’m going to stop living my life.”

“I said no such thing.”

“You didn’t have to! We both know that’s what you meant.”

“You’re not even on the same page as me anymore,” You scoff, arms crossing. “Seems like all this time in Hollywood made you forget that you’re not always the main character.”

“Fuck that, Y/N! Fuck! That!”

“No, Tom. Fuck. You.” You over-express your emotions, and after two more minutes of unbearable silence and screaming, he’s leaving your apartment just as fast as he arrived. You’re in shock, fingers shaking while you clear your throat, which is frayed and sore from all the yelling.

You sit back, elbows on your knees while your hands smoothen out your forehead. Tear after tear escapes your sobbing body, and eventually, you fall asleep on the couch.

In the weeks to come, you’ve realized the blow-out of a breakup could’ve been handled so much differently, but Tom hasn’t seemed to cool down at all — he’s petty enough to unfollow you on all social media, and you figure it’s time to let the hatred be mutual. You don’t touch your imessages, however, letting the love in those texts linger for a little longer.

Before you know it, you’re throwing up into the toilet boil, coughing violently at the action and spitting the bitter taste as best you can. You clean up, and when you check your phone, a small notification from your period tracker app alerts you that this is the second period in a row that has gone by without a hello.

Worried, you call Aisha, your closest friend and confidant. She’s over in no time, bringing along her girlfriend while you rant on the phone about your worries. They stop at the drugstore on the way.

The cause of your problems is discovered that day, and you collapse on the bathroom floor in agony, hands wiping at your face — through all the anger and fear and worry, you still love Tom. So much that Aisha even attempts to call Tom. But, alas, it’s sent straight to voicemail, and you realize he might’ve gone to extreme extents in blocking everyone.

You’re stuck going to the ultrasound with two lesbians and a frail old cat. Aisha is as supportive as ever, but as the doctor explains the process of each option, you feel sicker and sicker about the idea of getting rid of the fetus. In the end, you choose to keep the child you’re bearing, even if your ex-lover isn’t even in the picture.

Inevitably, the months pass, and as baby Charlie is brought into the wonderful world, you realize life as a single mother isn’t as scary as you thought it would be. In the first few months of your pregnancy, you’d kept tabs on what film Tom was doing and which was coming out next, but after the hormones and cravings, you’d decided to let the past sizzle and fade out in the way it was meant to all along.

It’s been almost three years since that fateful breakup, and Charlie is just reaching two and a half years old. You’re still single, and you’re okay with that. Charlie is all you need, all you’ve ever wanted, and the most important thing in your life. He’s young, and school is still a couple years away, but you enjoy having the toddler by your side, walking hand in hand with you because you’re his guardian, his provider, his only parent. You make him your only priority, because you don’t want him to grow up without anyone to love, or anyone to love him.

It’s hard, though. It’s hard because he’s a constant reminder of what didn’t happen, a constant reminder of what went wrong and of what you no longer have. You miss Tom more than words can express, and Charlie’s mop of brown curls reminds you of all the moments you’d run your fingers through Tom’s hair. You reminisce more than you’d like to, about Tom and your past, and though Charlie is technically half of the Brit, he’s one hundred percent yours. Because you’re the only one here, and that’s alright.

“Mummy,” Charlie tugs on your shirt’s hem while you move the shopping cart forward through the aisle. “Can we get the goldfish with superheroes?”

You jutt your lip out in a smile, nodding happily. “Of course we can, bub.”

As you step forward, you pit stop in the aisle, nearly tripping on the cart. You make direct eye contact with the man you used to love with your entire heart. The man who walked out with your heart and never gave it back. He’s staring right back at you, curls looking as fluffy as ever, face still a soft glow. Your breath hitches, and it’s then that you realize Charlie is still talking.

“Mummy?” He asks, and it’s just loud enough for Tom to hear. Harry, who’s beside Tom with an arm full of crackers and chips. Tom moves forward a few steps, hastily in an attempt to get more information.

“Uh, hi,” His smile is tight lipped as he stands at the other end of your shopping cart. Charlie shies away from strangers, standing behind your leg and holding your shirt with his grubby hands.

“Hi,” you return his awkward, reserved demeanor.

“Mummy who’s this?”

“‘Mummy?’” Tom has a follow up question for everything, and you internally panic, unsure on how to approach this.

You’d spent so long deciding how you should tell Tom that he was a dad. You spent hours debating on if you should pick up the phone or drive over just to tell him a truth you’ve kept inside for so long. You’ve abandoned social media, only sharing aspects of your life you can afford to post. Charlie is only occasionally on your page, but it’s not like Tom would see that, not after all that’s happened.

Your mouth opens and closes while you debate on how to reply. You’re physically incapable of saying your response, and it makes you even more nervous. You’re nervous on how he might react, what he’ll say, but most importantly, if he’ll stay.

“Is this…?

“My kid…” You fill in. “I- I mean our… our kid.” You pull your bottom lip between your rows of teeth, and you watch as Tom’s face undergoes thousands of expressions all at once. He’s surprised, shocked, happy, afraid, uncertain. You want the world to swallow you whole, suck you up so you don’t have to go through any of this again. But you don’t. Instead, you hold Charlie’s hand a little tighter.

“Our kid?” He drops a can of soup and you flinch at the loud noise.

“Mummy, who’s that?”

“That’s…” You don’t know how to answer his question. Instead, you lean down to his level, comfortingly and gently. “He’s a man.”

“Who’s that man?”

“He’s… your daddy.”

“I thought… no daddy?”

You purse your lips and furrow your brows. Tom’s watching the entire encounter from his place, but after a few beats, he steps forward, entering your bubble. Charlie doesn’t cower away this time, but looks up in curiosity.

“Hi, Charlie,” Tom extends his hand, adjusting his jeans so he can lean down just as you are, kneeling beside the young boy.

You look down, avoiding your worries and Tom’s gaze. He’s tearing up, and you want to cry too. You’re in a fucking supermarket, for god’s sake. This wasn’t how you envisioned any of this planning out, and though you’re mentally kicking yourself for letting it happen this way, you can’t help but feel like maybe this was meant to be. Written in the stars or whatever the folks say — you’re just grateful Charlie has at least a sliver of hope for two parents. Not that you can’t handle it, because you can, but you know someone like Tom wouldn’t want to miss something as important as this.

“I’m To- I’m…” He swallows thickly, making brief eye contact with you before looking back at Charlie. “I’m your dad.”

“Do you love my mummy?” He’s not shameless, but he’s still that shy little boy. “My friend says daddy’s love mommy’s so you must love mine, right?”

Tom lets a tear fall while he exhales a chuckle. He swipes the drop with the tips of his fingers, and the hand gripping Charlie’s squeezes it a little tighter. A glance in your direction is all it takes for him to answer Charlie’s question. “Yeah, buddy. I do.”

want more? my masterlist.

taglist tingz :) 🏷️  want to join? fill out this form.

th + pp taglist: @spideyspeaches @strawberrytom (no smut) @turtletaylor98 @parkerpeterparker2004 @peterbenjiparker @kelieah​

permanent taglist: @mayrapreciado20​ @tomhollandlol @roseke​ @supremethunda​ @wonderfulfluffer​ @farfromtommy​ @mamaparker28​ (no smut/tw) @pxxerfect​ (no smut) @seutarose @pixiedustsupplyco​ @itssmadelyn​ @white-wolf1940​ @woopwoopwoop222 @chrisosterfield​ (no tw)

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#tom holland x reader #tom holland x you #tom holland x pregnant!reader #dad!tom holland #dad!tom #dad!tom holland fic #tom holland fluff #tom holland angst #tom holland fanfic #tom holland imagine #tom holland oneshot #tom holland blurb #tom holland request #tom holland fluffy #tom holland angsty

[faulty-writes]

Alright, since all you lovely followers of mine seem to enjoy Rumi. I came up with this little idea. I hope you enjoy it.

The 5 Times Rumi Let You Touch Her Tail

You will always remember the first time you touched Mirko's tail, you had originally just wanted her autograph. "Yeah yeah! Speak up there, kid! I don't got all day!" she replied as she stomped over to you, making you feel even smaller than you were. You somehow managed to stutter out what you wanted, but you didn't seem to be up to Mirko's standards.

"Ya gotta be more confident than that," she said with a snicker before reaching over to grasp your chin. Your heart sped up from both her touch and that smirk that played across her face. "But you have such a pretty face, I guess I can do you a damn favor," the chuckle that followed her words wasn't exactly comforting.

"What's your name!?" she demanded, causing you to flinch back. Yet again you managed to stutter out an answer, "I like 'pretty face' more, so that's what I'm gonna call ya from now on!" she snapped your autograph book closed before handing it back to you.

When she turned to walk away, you noticed that fluffy white tail of hers and desperately called out to her. Of course, you felt a little shy to ask her but somehow you managed and to your surprise, Mirko looked shocked or lost as to where the question of touching her tail came from.

"Well, pretty face got confidence that fast huh? I like that!" you cried out when she playfully punched your shoulder. But that was nothing compared to when she grabbed your shirt collar and pulled you close to her. "Do it then," she said, "show me what ya can do when you set out to do it pretty face," you wondered how long that nickname would last.

You hesitantly reached around the curve of her hip until you felt that soft fur brush against your fingertips. Your lips parted in awe as you slowly allowed your fingers to thread through her tail. It was soft and so very fluffy. Mirko seemed to enjoy the small bit of attention, however, it didn't last as long as you would have hoped.

"Getting a little too close to unleashing the real beast in me, pretty face," Mirko said, her tail twitching like mad due to your touch. "I'll see ya later, or maybe never," you frowned as you watched her jump from the pavement and into the air.

You knew this world was dangerous, but you had never imagined getting caught in the middle of a villain attack. It seemed like it happened all at once. Perhaps you were in the wrong place at the wrong time, but all you could remember is the explosions and bloodshed.

Luckily, much like they were trained to do. Several heroes came onto the scene and you got a front-row seat to see how they handled the villain. Threats being thrown back and forth before more blood spilled. You happened to be cradled up next to the fellow individuals who had the displeasure of being a part of this terrifying experience.

Then, she arrived. "Having fun without me!? Jeez, what the hell!?" her voice was unmistakable and you heard several gasps and cheers as Mirko flew through the air. Her silver hair flowing behind her and that same smirk you saw before was painted across her face. "I'll kick your ass, you hear me!?" it was strange how one person could give you so much hope.

Despite being covered in soot and minor injuries, you got lost in the moment watching Mirko dish out some punishment. Cracking the pavement with her powerful leg strength and confusing the villain with her speed. Watching them fall bit by bit until they were finally defeated and Mirko was left panting, sweating, and victorious.

"Hell yeah! Think you can actually mess with this rabbit hero?!" she seemed rather happy as the villain was dragged away and the search and comfort of the civilians began. Mirko seemed to spot you right away and offered you her hand, "Ya don't look too damn injured. Shake off your fear!" she instructed as she pulled you to your feet.

But even so, you couldn't help but continue to tremble which caused Mirko to grow confused. She wasn't the best person to provide comfort, "Hey aren't you the kid that wanted my autograph before!? Yeah...yeah pretty face, right!?" she questioned with a confident grin.

"I know what to do," she slowly turned and presented her tail. "Ya liked petting it, right?" she questioned. "Go on then, touch it," she said, almost like you were annoying her. But nonetheless, you did as she instructed and reached over to run your fingers through that soft fur once more.

Normally if someone desired to be a hero, they would enroll into one of the many hero schools Japan offered, but due to selective pickings and strict classroom sizes, this wasn't always possible which meant many of those that wanted to be heroes never got the chance. But due to increased villain activity, your opportunity came.

That is Japan offered the chance for young adults to participate in an advanced hero course which would then permit them to be able to use a temporary hero license under the authority of a trusted pro hero.

"Pff," Mirko couldn't help but snort before her laughter broke through. It wasn't something you appreciated, but in a way, it was nice to see her smile. "Didja finally grow a spine there, pretty face!?" she questioned before slapping you on the back, sporting her famous smirk.

You were originally hesitant to tell her, mostly due to the fact that you were afraid she'd do exactly what she did. Laugh at you, but she didn't seem completely against the idea. But, she let you know her opinion nonetheless. "Guess ya aren't the wimpy wannabe I thought ya were! Don't expect any recommendation from me, but I give ya permission to kick some ass!"

While you were happy with her attempted vote of confidence, you found yourself being nervous yet again to ask Mirko the question that had been plaguing your mind. But she seemed to catch onto the fact that you wanted something. "Speak up!" she snapped. "Your pretty face doesn't look so pretty when you're confused," she said as she crossed her arms over her chest.

You were actually embarrassed to ask, but yet again you found yourself stuttering the question out. That is if you could pet her tail for good luck. Mirko seemed confused, "Ya got a tail petting fetish or something pretty face?!" she rolled her eyes before turning around, her tail wiggling from side to side.

"Just make it quick!" she said, though she was still wearing a smirk and you suspected it was due to the fact she somehow knew you were nervous. But nonetheless, you reached out and allowed your fingers to run through that soft fur for the third time. Who knows? Maybe it would bring you some well-deserved luck.

Pro hero life was more than you thought it would be, it was part exciting and part terrifying. Between the praise and hatred, it was the best and worst of both worlds. Though you weren't high on the charts by any means, you were catching the attention of the existing pro heroes which included Mirko.

It started off as a simple invitation, "Hey there pretty face good job out there!" Mirko said as she yet again slapped you on the back. "I didn't think ya had the spine to back you up but turns out I was wrong," her words made you feel a little better, but you had never expected her to ask you what she did next.

Drinking wasn't normally something you did, and this would probably be the last time you experienced it. But you couldn't honestly turn down an invitation to drink with one of the top female heroes. So you accepted, but you should have known the consequences of going out in public with Mirko.

"Another round, damn it!" Mirko screamed as she slammed the shot glass back onto the counter, it was safe to say you were beyond tipsy at this point as you could only laugh at the rabbit hero's antics. You lazily draped your arm around her shoulders and repeated the order. By the end of the night, you were too intoxicated to remember the series of events that led to Mirko bringing you home.

But when you woke in the morning, it wasn't that hard to figure out what had happened. Your head was pulsing, painfully aching as a cruel reminder of your irresponsible actions. But what shocked you more was the fact you had woken up next to Mirko who still happened to be sleeping away peacefully.

How could you help yourself? You'd never try to purposely take advantage of anyone. But seeing the rabbit hero sprawled out on the bed, covered by nothing but a thin sheet was a sight most could only hope to see. However, you were more focused on that tail that peeked out from under the sheet. You just hoped you wouldn't wake her as you reached over to once again pet that tail.

The news was a shock to the hero world, the previously known solo hero was engaged. Most thought it wouldn't happen, in fact, heroes almost never got the chance at their own happy ending due to their dedication to saving others. But, Mirko seemed to want to prove the world wrong.

You hadn't expected it, but throughout your hero career, Mirko and yourself had your special moments. Despite her own rule of avoiding love and not getting into any messy relationships. But somehow you were the exception, hell maybe you put a spell on her the first time you met, or maybe you were just special.

Either way, she found that she was growing overly attached to you. Making hasty decisions and she hated it. There had to be a way to solve this, to figure out how to rid herself of the constant worry she felt when you were away from her, and maybe most wouldn't think the solution would come in the form of a marriage proposal.

"Well!?" she snapped as she grabbed your hand, ready with the ring. Casting a glare your way, but you were a little too shocked to answer her. Though the ring was beautiful, painted a gold-white color with one jewel that was the same color as Mirko's eyes. Somehow, you stuttered out a reply and Mirko grinned as she pushed the ring onto your finger.

Despite the wedding feeling rushed, Mirko took care of most of the weight. Which included the invitations, wedding location, catering, and so on. She even insisted on paying for your wedding attire, though you were somewhat against the idea. It was hard to argue with your new fiancee.

Though Mirko looked beautiful on the day of your wedding, she neglected the traditional belief that seeing the bride before the wedding could bring bad luck. "Quit your damn worrying!" she snapped as she stood there in her wedding dress. The white fabric showing off her every curve.

But the best feature of her dress was the small cut out that allowed her tail to peek through, "Are ya ready to get this show on the road yet!? People are waitin'!" she exclaimed and you couldn't help but chuckle as you stepped close to her and placed your hand on the small of her back. Your fingers slowly reaching down to play with her tail yet again before you nodded.

#rumi x reader #mirko x reader

[divine-mistake]

The Cracks in Our Reality (1)

Summary: Loki hates the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower because she’s too loud and too sarcastic and too kind and too soft, especially to him, who really doesn’t deserve it.

Characters: Loki/Plus-sized (f)Reader

Warnings: 18+ (no smut), language, violence

A/N: Thanks for reading my first ever fanfiction! Updates weekly on Saturday.

Series Masterlist | AO3 | Playlist

The first time he hears her voice, it is shrill and shrieking and about his brother, so of course he hates it.

“Thor’s here?” Loki hears as they walk down the hallway. When he gambles and glances to his side, Thor’s lips are split with the biggest grin Loki’s seen him wear since they touched down in Midgard. Vacantly, he guesses it’s a fangirl who’s waiting for his brother—how typical.

It’s always like this.

And as they approach the room from which the light is bleeding into the hallway, Thor’s fangirl shouts again, “Why didn’t you tell me? Where the hell is he?”

Thor crosses the threshold into Loki’s new world in three long strides. Unlike his brother, Loki sticks to the shadows, only moving close enough to see what is awaiting him past the corner of the corridor. It’s all one big blur of motion, really, as Thor strides through the Avengers Tower and scoops a young woman off her feet, into his arms, and Loki’s reflex is to curl his lip in sneer. 

He looks away and ignores the girlish giggles, choosing to survey his new surroundings instead. With one wide sweep of the room, he indexes four familiar faces.

Stark, who's watching his brother and the fangirl, shoulders drawn up and tight in defense.

Rogers, America’s Golden Boy, with his biceps bulging from where his arms are crossed.

Banner. He smiles and Loki feels a mixture of fear and guilt swirl viciously inside him.

And Romanoff, who’s staring right at him, her eyes narrowed, a twitch in her index finger. Evidently she’s not forgiven his sins either. Not that it matters—as quickly as she could pull the handgun strapped to her thigh on him, he could vanish in half that.

There’s only one person Loki can’t catalogue, can’t connect her face to a name, and it’s the fangirl Thor is spinning around the room with, her legs swinging wildly in the air.

She shouts his brother’s name jubilantly, the loudest sound in the room, their laughs mingling together like the sweet and spice of mead.

“My lady!” Thor squeezes her to his body in a tight grip once they stop twirling in place, and then she’s kicking her feet until her polished black heels slide off and hit the floor, fists pounding on his shoulder.

Well, a fangirl surely wouldn’t do that.

“Put me down you big puppy man, you obnoxious God, you are killing me—” The woman is wheezing even as she yells, quite dramatically really, and Loki’s sneer starts to turn into a frown. Who is she to talk to the King of Asgard with such disrespect? As much as Loki loves to see Thor ridiculed, her casual relationship with his brother irritates him more than he anticipated.

Thor drops her onto her bare feet with a delicate softness Loki’s never witnessed before, and the woman settles herself, pulling her dress down and brushing imaginary dust from the fabric, and then she turns up to look at his brother and she wears the most gorgeous smile on her face Loki might ever have witnessed.

“Welcome back to Earth,” she quips, her voice much gentler now, and Loki decides right then and there that he doesn’t just hate her voice.

He hates her.

“It’s good to be back, my lady. Have you been well?”

She opens her mouth to speak, but Stark cuts her off immediately.

“Pleasantries later, ” he says, taking a step toward Loki’s direction. “Reindeer Games is lurking in the shadows over there and it’s making me second guess this whole shebang.”

That’s his cue. Loki slinks out from the corridor and into the light of the common room, and all eyes are on him. He basks in the attention like a cat basks in the sun. This is the first time in a long time he's been on Midgard without chains seizing his hands and feet—his mouth is free of a muzzle and he’s going to use it.

“Stark,” he purrs, but his eyes flit around the room, passing over every single Avenger that’s now standing defensively. “Always a pleasure to be in your presence.”

Vaguely, he’s aware of how the woman has taken to Thor’s side, where his brother is sheltering her under his arm, but he doesn’t break Stark’s stare to look at her. What care does he have for one of Thor’s fangirls anyway?

“You brought your brother here?” she asks, and Loki relishes in the hint of fear hiding itself within the confusion in her voice.

“Did they not tell you?” Thor sounds increasingly worried.

“No,” she hisses, “they did not. What the fuck is going on, Tony?”

Rogers moves closer now, and Loki lends his gaze to the way the super soldier’s hand falls upon the woman’s shoulder, swallowing it. She bristles slightly at his touch and it amuses him for a moment. Maybe she dislikes America’s Golden Boy just as much as he does.

“We meant to tell you, sweetheart,” Rogers says, his voice gentle. 

Disgusting. Is she everyone’s fangirl in this cursed tower? 

“It slipped my mind after the mission a few nights ago. I’m sorry we didn’t warn you.”

She shrugs Rogers’ hand off her shoulder, but Thor holds onto her tightly. Loki feels like his eyes will burn out of his head from how long he’s been staring, how rigid his body, how much he wants to be anywhere but here right now.

“Are you serious?” Loki isn’t sure he’s seeing the same woman who was just looking at his brother like he was the sun, what with the way she’s glaring at Stark now. “Was I the last to know about this? Is there a room ready for him? Does the press—oh god, the fucking press doesn’t know about him, do they? Tony, I’m going to have to call a press conference. I’m going to have to rebook all the schedules. Are you shitting me?”

Then, she whirls on him, slipping out from beneath Thor’s arm and marching up to him like he isn’t the crazed man who tried to subjugate New York a few years prior. As if he isn’t a God. As if he couldn’t crush her frail body beneath the nail of his smallest finger.

He doesn’t know whether to be impressed or frightened, so Loki settles for the burning hatred that’s been crawling over his skin since he entered the Tower.

She juts out a hip, places her hand on it, and looks straight up at him. “Do you even want to be here?”

No. Of course not.

But no one ever bothers to ask Loki what he wants, and now this puny Midgardian has done so within the first five minutes of even knowing him, and he doesn’t even know her name but there is so much heat searing through him and he hates her.

She isn’t much, really. She’s small in stature, her head barely grazing his brother’s shoulders, forcing her to crane her neck as she addresses Loki. If she were to kneel at his feet now, she’d be the perfect height for him to take his pleasure. He quickly rips the thought away and throws it to the fire growing in his veins.

But she is curvy, that much is sure. She is much thicker than the slim Midgardian women he’s seen on his journeys here, much softer than the Asgardian warriors who are built with muscle alone. Loki can’t keep staring at her, he can’t. Her eyes are narrowed, but bright in the lighting of the common room. Her lips, painted a brilliant shade of red, are twisted into some sort of puckered frown that makes him wonder how well she’d fare when he played tricks on her.

He scoffs at her, rolling his eyes and looking away, because Norns, what is he supposed to say?

The truth?

“Banner, why don’t you walk Rabbit to her room?” Stark calls, and when Loki looks back at him, they’re locked in another stare. Loki feels a wave of something new, something bordering on shame, something that has him grasping for a scepter not in his hand and eyeing the bright blue beam of light in Stark’s chest. He still remembers what it felt like, that day he invaded New York.

It doesn’t feel good to remember, so like with all things, he pushes it to the back of his mind and replaces it with a smirk.

“What?” The woman—Rabbit, her name, perhaps—turns her glare on Stark once again. “You can’t just drop an Asgardian in the middle of my living room, ruin all my carefully crafted schedules for the next month and a half, and then tell me to go to my room like a child!”

“Run along now, little girl,” Loki mocks, and when she recoils at his words and takes a step back like she’s shocked, the heat that’s been building in his blood is suddenly ice. Her face is different now, brows drawn in anger, and her whole body stiffens and Loki feels like he does when he changes back into his native form.

Until she draws up a finger at him, storming toward him, ire flashing in her eyes with every step she takes, and Loki is alive again. His tongue is sharp, ready to meet her shrill demands, but Thor reaches out and grabs her with one sweep of his arm. She’s tugged back into his brother’s grasp, held closely to the broad expanse of Thor’s chest, and Loki stamps out his rising excitement. His brother ruins everything.

“My lady,” Thor says, “my brother lacks tact around pretty women, but he is harmless, I assure you.”

Loki lets his eyes drag from the top of her head down to the tips of her bare toes, still twisting against the floor as if she’s trying to break away from Thor’s hold, their lacquer catching the shine of the light. She painted them pink. Loki doesn’t think she’s all that pretty—he’s seen better in Midgard alone.

But then she mumbles something under her breath that sounds wickedly similar to “He’ll be harmless once I maim him with my shoe,” and Loki has to swallow back the laugh threatening at his lips.

The woman rips herself out of Thor’s grasp, shoving him away. Comically, Thor pretends as though her strength is enough to move him, feigning a stumble backward. Then, she picks up her heels from where they dropped to the floor and slips them onto her feet, and suddenly Loki could press his nose into the top of her head at this height.

“C’mon then, Bruce.” Without looking, she begins to stride toward the hallway, brushing past Loki. “We’ll let the boys pretend they have their shit under control.”

As she speaks, her eyes cut back to Loki, gaze burning. He isn’t sure a woman has ever looked at him with this much contempt before and gotten away with it. Banner quickly follows her and Loki listens to the rhythmic click of her heels all the way down the corridor until the elevator dings, and then she’s gone for good.

Her scent, floral and clean, clings to his nose for the rest of the night. He hates it.

“They call it community service here in Midgard!” Thor says, beaming. Loki wants to tear his brother's lips from his face, to burn that smile off his visage.

“You say that as if I should be proud,” Loki snarls back.

His room in the Tower is quaint. It’s more than Stark should offer him, that’s for sure, but Loki guesses it’s only more than a prison cell for the sole reason that it’s connected to Thor’s apartment and they don’t want the brothers to be separated. At the very least, it’s furnished. The bed is soft and big enough to share with a partner. He has a bathroom en suite. A walk-in closet to fill with clothes he doesn’t own.

Loki doesn’t own anything. Not even himself, now that he’s doing this community service on a planet he’s tried to conquer. Community service as a probationary Avenger in the stead of eternal damnation.

Thor only claps him on the back. “‘Tis better than serving a jail sentence, is it not?”

He raises a brow. “As if it isn’t imprisonment itself.”

“You should be thankful, Loki. Stark has been very cooperative with allowing you to stay here as an Avenger—”

“As a prisoner,” he interjects.

“—without threat of cells or cages or even chains.”

“And yet I am not allowed to leave the Tower.”

Thor frowns. “You tried to subjugate New York.”

Loki peruses this for a moment. He could say anything, but would it ever matter? It isn’t as if Thor’s ever understood. He didn’t understand when Loki let go and fell from the Bifrost and he sure didn’t understand when Thanos forced Loki to destroy New York. He never understands.

So instead of saying anything, Loki rolls his eyes, stalks into his room, and slams the door shut. He hopes it’ll make Thor finally leave him alone.

But Thor just stands on the other side of the door, shouting through the wood.

“This is your chance, brother. This is your chance at redemption. Do not let it go lightly, and I beg you, do not screw it up.”

Redemption—what a joke. If Odin taught Loki anything, it was that there was never going to be any redemption for him. He was lost. Irredeemable. A cold monster in the warm skin of an Asgardian. A snake who spoke in tongues, in lies and misery. Loki was nothing more than a puppet who didn’t see how his strings connected him to his master.

Loki waits until he hears Thor stomp away, until he hears the slam of the door across from his own, before he conjures an image of his mother in the palm of his hand.

He doesn’t know how long he spends looking at her, a vision spread against his fingers. The only sign that she isn’t real is the shimmering edges of Loki’s illusion. Once upon a time, when there was so much blood and sweat and tears running into his eyes, he wasn’t able to tell what was real and what was magic. Illusory images are only illusory to those of a sound mind—something Loki hasn’t always been.

Even he, the God of Lies, has a reality that can be broken. A truth that can be muddled by pain and fear until it shows what he wishes, what he would beg, the truth to look like.

A knock at the door almost sends him into a panic, flashes of the monster who haunts his nightmares creating new colors behind the back of his eyes. The illusion of Frigga dissipates into the air. Loki throws himself to his feet, flies from his bed to the door in a handful of steps, anger like a hot knife through the parts of his brain the terror hasn’t yet eaten through.

“Leave me be!” he roars at Thor from this side of the door. His hand twitches to conjure a dagger. If he opened the door, would the Mad Titan be on the other side? No. It’s only Thor. The Mad Titan is dead. 

But Loki never saw him die—how can he be sure he is truly gone?

He cannot. His reality has been bent and broken and shattered a thousand times by the Mad Titan and Loki cannot remember what is real and what is false anymore.

With a dagger in hand, Loki throws the door open, prepared to see anything—Thor, Thanos, the father he slaughtered without a thought—and yet he is still surprised by what he sees standing just outside his room.

The dagger disappears from his white-knuckled grip. The Midgardian woman’s eyes are wide, like moons, the depth of color in her irises the crevices and craters. She takes a step back and Loki sees her hands trembling.

His lips part to apologize. Pride seizes in his chest and he closes his mouth. His breathing is labored, chest heavy with the rise and fall of every tight contracting of his lungs. She’s holding something in her arms. A tray is set beside her on the floor, a few scattered plates of Midgardian food sitting atop it.

The silence between them is deafening.

In a moment all too soon, her eyes narrow into slits and she rolls her shoulders back, straightening her spine and drawing up to her full height. Loki reminds himself that he can crush her. He could kill her with one strike of his boot. She is nothing, and the ice that is making a slow crawl up every disc in his back isn’t guilt, it’s caution.

How dare a mortal as small as she look at him like that? He is the Prince of Asgard, the Rightful King of—

“Fuck you,” she spits, and it’s Loki’s turn to recoil. Instantly, the edges of his vision turn red and he hopes, shamefully, that his eyes are flashing the same dreadful, savage color as a means to scare her into submission.

His nostrils flare with his indignation. “How dare you—” he starts, but she throws whatever she had been holding at his chest and Loki instinctively grabs it. It’s soft against his cold hands.

“I thought you might be hungry,” she hisses, venom dripping from every word. “I thought you might need some extra fucking blankets. Excuse me for being nice, Your Highness.”

The way the word rolls off her tongue makes his fingers tighten in the downy fabric she’s given him. He should feel good. In fact, he tips his chin upward to look down upon her from the slope of his nose. But he doesn’t feel good.

“I don’t need anything from you, little girl,” he sneers. “I have no business with you.”

She crosses her arms over her chest, jutting out that damn hip again.

“Actually, you’ll have much more business with me from now on, Your Highness.” With a grace he wasn’t sure she had, she draws up a hand to tuck a strand of her hair behind her ear, eyes never leaving his. “I’m the Executive Manager of the Avengers Tower. You’ll be seeing much more of me, and unfortunately, I’ll be seeing much more of you.”

Loki scoffs. “A mortal such as yourself could hardly provide me with anything satisfactory.”

He glances, almost imperceptibly, at the dinner tray she’s brought up to him. Loki swallows a lump in his throat.

She shrugs. “Whatever. You can be an asshole if you want. I’ll still do my job whether you like it or not because I’m a professional and I’m damn good at what I do.”

Her eyes flash with something dangerous, and then she’s taken two steps forward and is craning her neck up to look at him, on her tiptoes in an attempt to match his height. Her pointer finger is just below his chin.

It brings him an exhilaration he hasn’t felt in centuries, a thrill trembling through his nerves.

“But if you ever draw a knife on me again, you’ll regret it.”

He laughs, flashing her a predatory grin, but she doesn’t back down.

“I sincerely doubt that,” he says, his tone mocking.

Her lips peel back to reveal a set of pearly teeth, and though her mouth softens, her eyes are as sharp as the blade of his dagger.

“I do the bidding of every Avenger in this tower,” she tells him. “You, included. Every single person in this entire building owes me a favor. I’m not beneath calling on every one of them to knock you down a peg, Your Highness.”

Loki watches as she lowers herself back down, rolling off the balls of her feet. He’s gripping the door frame so hard he can feel the wood giving beneath his fingers. There is something so vexatious about this woman that he can’t discern.

“If you need anything, you can ask FRIDAY to let me know. You can call me Rabbit—it’s what everyone else here calls me, and Tony’s annoyingly programmed the AI to call me that, too. Enjoy your lonesome night, Your Highness.”

She turns on her heel before he has a chance to reply, strutting out of his apartment and disappearing around a corner. He hears the quiet ding of the elevator, just as he did earlier, signaling her departure.

Loki looks down at the tray of food she’s left behind. With one angry breath, a wave of magic bursts forth from his body, sending the plates crashing against the walls of the apartment. Food smears down every surface. Ceramic and glass mingle in shattered pieces. It’s immature. It’s childish. He knows this, but he can’t stop himself. Fury pulses at his fingertips, hot like the burn of ice.

He hates her.

Next Chapter

Taglist: @poetic-fiasco @suffocatinglypositive @melancholic-metanoia 

#loki x reader #loki x you #loki love #avengers loki #plus size reader #redemption loki #loki fanfic #the cracks in our reality #loki pov #loki series #thanks for supporting me!

[inhuman-obey-me]

Melody of Revenge

Word Count: 2.4k Description: Everyone knows not to mess with Lucifer Morningstar. Some, however, make the mistake of going after his family instead. Part of the A Demon's Nature series. Lucifer was next, and this ended up getting really long, so uh ... yeah. Can be found on AO3 here. content warning: torture, so much torture, blood, body horror/mutilation

Fear and intimidation. Lucifer knew how to use both effectively, striking terror into any and all who looked upon him. The Avatar of Pride rarely had to remind others of just who he was, but every now and then, someone decided to step out of line. It couldn’t be helped -- imbeciles could be found wherever beating hearts or souls resided.

Tonight, however, he was dealing with a very particular kind of imbecile. One that had crossed a line so gravely that he had planned an entire torture routine in his mind as he made his way through the halls of the Demon Lord’s Castle. Flames of anger licked his insides as he made his way to the dungeons, but he had to keep his rage under control. Lucifer always had to be in control, every action and word deliberate and planned. He didn’t have a choice to be anything less.

“Barbatos.” He greeted the loyal butler and friend, who stood at the entrance of a particular hall of cells.

“Greetings, Lucifer.” The usual polite smile alighted his lips, though a knowing look gleamed in his eyes. “Are you sure you want to handle this one?”

“Absolutely.” He responds firmly, immediately. Barbatos usually had the pleasure of torturing those who crossed the Devildom, and he took great delight in it -- far more than even Lucifer would. After all, Lucifer found torture and punishment as a means to an end, a form of discipline.

Barbatos simply did it for fun.

“Then by all means,” the royal servant bowed slightly, gesturing with one arm towards the dark hall. “She’s all yours.” With that, he left the dungeons, having a great many other tasks to attend to for the day -- though couldn’t help leaving with a melodic, “Have fun.”

A small smirk tugged at the corner of Lucifer’s lips. Oh, he planned to make this a very enjoyable time indeed. Taking a deep breath -- making sure that he was in control -- he dropped his glamour to reveal more of his demon form and walked forward to unlock one of the metal cell doors. It creaked open, allowing for the sounds of muffled screams to leave the dark room.

“Hello, Abyzou.”

The protests suddenly stopped, a chill seeming to settle in the air. Lucifer slowly lit the torches along the dungeon’s walls, bathing the room in a hellish orange light. There, in the middle of the cell, sat the traitor, bound and gagged. Her serpentine eyes looked up at Lucifer with a mix of fear and anger, but she otherwise remained silent and still.

“What’s wrong? Suddenly decided it was a good time to be quiet?” His voice is calm. Too calm. He eases his long coat off of his shoulders, hanging it on a hook by the door. Gloved hands begin to roll up his sleeves as he turns to look at the other demon again, a sigh leaving him. He stepped forward, and with a yank removed the gag from her mouth. “Is that better?”

Abyzou coughed, spitting to the side as she flexed her jaw after it being bound for so long. He allowed her to adjust -- he was a demon of patience, after all.

“Lucifer … “ She begins with his name, spoken with a certain kind of reverence. “I didn’t realize you would be visiting me here.”

“You didn’t?” The surprise in his voice is almost genuine. “Strange, I figured you would have been expecting me any day now, considering the reason you’re here in the first place.”

Her eyes widened for a moment before she directed her gaze elsewhere, not wanting to look upon the greater demon. There was a hint of shame in her expression, but it gave way to a twisted smile as she shook her head. “I see . . .”

“Do you?” He speaks sharply, his hatred for her beginning to show. He grabbed her jaw with one hand, forcing her to look up at him. “Do you see, Abyzou? Or are you still trying to play innocent?”

She hissed as his fingertips pressed into her skin, the red leather of his gloves saving her from the wrath of his claws -- for now. She stared into those magnetic ruby eyes and all the power they held, all of the destruction they could unleash, all of the pain they could bring.

“But was I wrong?” Abyzou knew her end was imminent, especially if the Avatar of Pride himself had requested to punish her personally. So what was the use in being anything but honest? “Was I truly wrong, Lord Lucifer?” The reverence once held in her voice was gone, replaced with mockery. She shifted in her bonds, leaning into the hand that held her jaw. “You know that the Devildom is stronger and better than the other realms, and yet we’re forced to grovel to the likes of angels!” Stretching out her neck, she continued with a jeer. “Or do you and your brothers miss having those white wings and halos for yourselves that much?”

Lucifer roughly pushed her face away from him, hand releasing her jaw. He took a step back, eyes full of cold fury still focused on the other demon. His gaze then swept the cell, taking note of the various torture instruments on display -- but grinned when he saw that Barbatos made sure to include the absolute essential. A vinyl player, the perfect record already in place to set the mood. He set it up to play, allowing the first notes to spill into the air before resuming his interrogation.

“So, you thought yourself better than the others who had agreed to His Royal Highness’ vision?” Lucifer begins to tug at the seam of one of his gloves, steadily peeling it off his hand. “Of course, we knew that plenty of the nobles had their concerns, and many voiced them, yourself included.” He sets the removed glove to the side, now beginning to take off the other. “And yet, you still decided that you would try and work against us behind the scenes,” The second glove joins its pair. “And, what I’m really trying to understand -- truly, I am -- is why you thought it would be a good idea to try and undermine the Seven Lords?”

Abyzou shifted in place, her earlier burst of bravado dwindling, and goosebumps rose along her skin as she listened to the music he decided to play. It was common knowledge to never get on Lucifer’s bad side, but she had taken the risk -- and now she would be answering for it. She lowered her head, staring at the cold stone floor, suddenly finding the way the orange light from the flames bounced and shimmered of great interest. “I . . . “ She started, trying to choose her next words carefully. “I wasn’t trying to undermine you or your brothers. I was doing what I thought would be best … including for you all! Can’t you see that I was trying to protect you, protect us?”

A piercing, incredulous laugh left Lucifer’s lips, his deep voice sending chills down Abyzou’s spine. He picked up the spool of twisted rope and approached her once more, the steady clack clack from his shoes’ heels echoing throughout the cell, mingling with the slowly increasing crescendo.

“Aby, Aby, Aby . . .” Lucifer clicked his tongue before he roughly collected a fistful of her long raven locks, eliciting a sharp cry as her head was wrenched back to look up at him. “That was your first mistake.”

The Avatar of Pride was nothing short of an expert when it came to stringing others up from the ceiling, though in this particular case, he wanted to make sure it hurt. The imprisoned demon thrashed and squirmed, but he was able to lift and tie her up with ease, making sure that the rough jute cut into her scaly skin just short of making her bleed -- for now. He tied the rope up to her waist, then put each wrist in a metal clasp that was chained to the floor, stretching out her arms to either side.

“You thought you needed to protect us? A sweet gesture,” He derided her, a claw coming up to slowly trace from her chin down through her cheek, drawing blood as it broke skin. “And an absolute lie. Your little act had every intention to put my brothers at risk, in harm’s way … “ A second claw followed the first, creating a ribbon of shredded skin. Abyzou hissed at the pain, biting back anything else in an effort to save some sense of dignity. “ … and you had the audacity to think you’d get away with it. Truly incredible.” The faux amazement in his tone felt like thorns in her ears, and she squeezed her eyes shut, not wanting to look into his face.

“What’s the matter, Abyzou? Shouldn’t you be used to being in this kind of position, or at least … something not too far from it?” Lucifer smirked, delighted to see her eyes shoot back open, bright yellow irises staring at him in disbelief. “If I remember correctly … Solomon had you tied up in front of his temple, and by your hair, at that.”

That riled her up. Forked tongue lashed out to flick at his face, a series of curses leaving her lips soon after. Fangs bared, she hissed, “Don’t you dare bring up that bastard! To think that I wasn’t allowed to lay a hand on him the moment he stepped into our realm. He deserves to have his neck twisted, but you … !”

“But I . . ?” Lucifer took out a handkerchief from his back pocket, nonchalantly wiping away at where her tongue and spit landed on his visage. “Please, do go on.”

“You … you, all of you, let him in with open arms! Even after knowing everything he’s done, how he’s treated our own kind! I don’t care if you say he’s changed, HE NEEDS TO BE TORN LIMB FROM LIMB!” She screamed, thrashing about in her binds, chains rattling as she struggled.

“Temper, temper, Aby.” Oh, that sadistic, pointed grin. A wave of euphoria washed over him, seeing her like this. “You have no room to talk, considering what you’ve done.” He watched as the blood from her face dropped and dripped to the floor, a hum leaving his lips.

“Perhaps you need some more reminding of just how badly you fucked up this time.” He raised a hand, chanting a curse that caused a swirl of glowing energy to encircle both of her hands. It weaved through her clenched fists, forcing them open, and wrapped like binding around each finger. She cried out in pain as she felt the magical binding began to gradually crush her fingers, cutting off circulation knuckle by knuckle.

“You tried to have some of my brothers poisoned,” All five claws of one hand pierced the skin of her upper arm, retracted, pierced again a bit lower, and repeated -- gradually making way down her entire arm. More and more blood began to drip, the usual greenish hue of her scaly skin now awash in dark red. “You tried to gather enough support to attack them, because you were too much of a coward to come face any of us yourself. Though, it’s laughable that you thought you could do damage to us in the first place.”

“I … I’m sorry!” She knew any apologies here were useless, but the pain that she now felt at every point in her body was becoming too agonizing to ignore. “I felt like I was left with no choice!” She felt her vision get hazy, the smell of her blood and the sharp strikes of pain -- from the rope, from his claws, from the curse -- overwhelming her senses. And that damned music, it was driving her insane.

“No choice?” Lucifer scoffed, his claws now repeating the treatment on her other arm. “Abyzou, you did have a choice.” His brows furrowed, wings stretching out as he brought his face close to her upside-down one. “You just chose the wrong one.”

Tears stung her eyes, the magic binding on her hands crushing her fingers until there would be nothing left. She could hear her blood drip in puddles on the floor, and yet the bleeding wasn’t enough for her life to end anytime soon.

“Please … please, Lord Lucifer … just finish me already.” She begged, though deep down she knew her cries for mercy would be futile.

Lucifer’s usual stoic expression settled on his features. He watched her for a moment, then turned around and walked to the table by the door where he had laid his gloves. A cloth was folded neatly next to them, which he took to wipe the blood off of his hands, murmuring a spell to help fully rid his skin of any that remained. Then, he pulled his gloves back on, tugging on the seams to make sure that they were on properly, fingers flexing in the red leather.

“I’m sure that’s what you would like, Abyzou.” His voice is eerily low, his back still turned to the demoness. She could hear him setting something up, but was unable to make out what it was.

Then he started humming, a haunting sound added to the sharp strings and bellowing percussion.

He dragged the table closer to her suspended body, stepping aside to show what was left on it.

She nearly choked. There, next to the record player, was another similar device -- but this one wasn’t for playing.

“However, I have no intention of giving you a quick end. You’ll remain here, like this, until every last drop of blood leaves your body, and your hands are thoroughly crushed, and those ropes cut through you. But, you won’t be completely alone.”

He gingerly raises the needle, setting it onto the record at the correct position. Resuming his humming, he hit the Record button, and the disc began to spin, the needle etching everything it heard into the vinyl. “We’ll have a lovely keepsake to remember you by. Ah, and don’t worry … this is all using magic, so it will document everything up until your last breath.”

Abyzou tried to thrash about with what strength she had left, but in the end only caused herself pain, the chains shackled to her wrists ringing and clanging.

“Farewell, Abyzou.”

With that, Lucifer left the cell, the large metal door shutting to a close behind him. He made his way back through the dungeon halls, a smirk on his lips as he heard a loud, wailing shriek in the distance.

#obey me #obey me! #obey me lucifer #om! lucifer #obey me fics #obey me swd #demons being demons #writings #series: a demon's nature #yeah this gets pretty descriptive in parts so!! be warned #also feel free to listen to heart of darkness by succession studios with this -- or also lucifer's waltz or queen of the damned #can you tell who my favorite is lmao #decided to post directly to this blog now #the all encompassing [mod] cosmos