#it won't even let you invite now and i am... more than disappointed to say the least | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

homesickn · 1 year

Text

My Heart

Soft!dark Loki x Reader. (Ghostface!Loki)

Loki is your special guide on an acting play in Asgard. How will it turn out? It will certainly be a Scream!

(Scream-inspired, ghostface!Loki, he's a bit obsessive too, who could have guessed?)

Warnings: this fic is exclusively explicit +18, a lot of blood, Dom!Loki, angst (at least reader cries a lot), stalking, Loki is a bit mean at times, blood kink, murder, psychological horror, possessive Loki, obsessive Loki, dark!Loki, scared reader. Be safe! ;)

You were fixing your hair and taking a look at the fancy dressing options for the official play, taking place in the center of Asgard, a place properly dedicated for cultural artistic exposition.

A bunch of the most famous actors throughout all of Asgard were coming to interpret roles in the huge theater near the castle, as an official tradition. Asgard is often envied in the matter of culture and in their specific field of acting art.

You've never felt more treasured, it surely felt gifting to be able to experience such an unique phenomenon, to be invited to such a thing.

And you're human. It feels a whole lot to you.

Far away from your home on Earth.

As much as it bothered you, you had to keep your mind off the annoying sting in your chest. You came here for an honorable reason, to represent as a Midgardian diplomat, settled by Thor to help him with his rules and studies for Asgard and the other realms, as he already knew you, he thought you to be the perfect fit. You don't want to disappoint.

But this loneliness is unlike any other, you can't help but wonder how your family and friends are doing, at home. You could fully say with conviction that the only friend you have is the godly Avenger that swore to protect you through your journey out of your original realm.

You were okay with it, until you had to get down and face the real world. You wore the very detailed white royal dress that most appealed to your eyes, and went downstairs to meet with the known blond just waiting for your presence, awkwardly messing with his…formal, hero cape.

He says your name with hesitance, “I'm so sorry, my friend. I truly am, I won't be able to attend the event,” he expresses, you frown and press your hand to your heart.

“What? You're the only friend I have here, am I supposed to go alone?” You're quick to ask.

“You can go with Loki,” he mentions the dark prince, you blink.

Loki wasn't a bad man to you, from what you've known of him, you're not a judgemental person, you don't like going for other people's words. But he's known on Earth for being a murderer, you watched the news, even though you weren't present during the attack you still could feel the pain that all those victims went through. It felt like you're betraying them, like you're hurting them by thinking of befriending the god.

However, since you've shown up on Asgard, Loki has been nothing but amicable to you. You just hesitated considering him a friend, whatsoever, he's a person you've —unfortunately — come to admire.

Whenever he passes by your sight is attached to him, as if you've been hypnotized, he's charming, pleasing to be around, your sense of humor matches a lot from what you've had the pleasure of discovering of him.

“Loki?” You repeat, letting the name echo through the walls of the castle. You're momentaneously afraid you've summoned him with the name.

“Yes, he's not too bad,” Thor looks a bit embarrassed of having to state so. “He's kind when you spend time with him, I know he'll treat you well. And if there's one thing my brother loves more than anything, is the events that involve acting around here. You have to see just how bright his eyes sparkle when he watches the plays, and this one in particular is one of his favorites. We used to watch it with father when we were younger.”

You were now enchanted by Thor's description, your eyes shining at the idea of having someone acknowledged to teach you more of something you already enjoy so much, you're also a huge fan of acting, and theatrical acting was a hidden passion you've always adored.

The thought of Loki liking this so much excites you, because you love surrounding yourself with enthusiastic people, you love seeing them being passionate about what they love. You thought it wouldn't be so bad to have a guide, it is definitely a better option than to go just by yourself, or to refuse and stay in bed for the day.

“Well…” You think for a second, looking around then coming back to Thor. “I don't see why not.” You shrug your shoulders, the blond god gives you a bright smile and says he'll catch him for you.

You wait at the entrance, looking all like a real princess waiting for her prince to take her to a royal ball.

“This is too fancy for me,” you look down at yourself, somehow feeling a sense of imposter syndrome. Feeling unbelonging, too human for this, it's way more than you could ever dream of. “I shouldn't be here.”

“Now, why would you say such a thing?” A low soft voice asks you from nowhere, you jolt as you turn quickly, recognizing the owner of the voice.

Loki gulps as he shares eye contact with you, glancing down at your pretty dress, you take a moment to appreciate his beautiful princely outfit, black and green, with tiny golden sparkling details. His body seemingly just fit for the measures of the clothes, you think you've lost your breath for a second.

He smirks as he catches you staring.

“Princess?” Your heart flutters a little, you swear your legs feel a bit shaky from the endearment.

“I'm not a princess,” you hurry to correct, your cheeks heating up against your will.

“You look just like one. You can be a princess, and if you don't like it, you have the experience for the night.” He offers his hand to you with a charming smile.

“No one would believe I'm a princess, prince Loki.” You challenge him.

“They will if I treat you like one,” he licks his lips and his eyes give you such softness you could melt again. Another pang, the betrayal, the attack on Earth.

You're the one to gulp nervously now, taking your eyes off of him and looking to the road ahead.

“You don't need to, it's fine,” and you quickly hurry to change the subject before he can protest. “Shall we go? Otherwise we'll miss the time. Nobody likes being late.”

★

You and Loki arrive at the festival together, getting off the carriage, he offers his hand again when you're exiting, like a true gentleman.

There's a lot of drinking, dancing, and singing. The theater is still empty waiting for the actors to arrive. Your excitement is likely palpable, Loki could swear he feels it radiating off of you.

“It's okay, princess,” he says loud enough for others to hear, placing his arms around you. You blush but refuse to protest, he gives you a knowing look and a mischievous smile. “We can have our fun before the show. Let me show you around all the cultural Asgardian beauty.”

They had a lot of variable types of drinks, a lot of dancing presentations for people to watch, and the singers had the most amazing intonations that your ears could be blessed to hear. You couldn't believe how lucky you were, to be able to humanely get in touch with the art from the gods themselves.

The harp brought an etheric touch to all the singing, the harsh intoning of the words whilst they sung something in their native languages, deep voices to match their godly vocal chords. Be it from the realm they were, your heart clenched in delight from all the admiring.

Loki was an impeccable guide, showing you some popular dishes, giving you the most delectable desserts, and watching the performances with you. Thor was right, you could see the special touch he had with art, it was as if he forgot everything else around him when he got close to it.

“This play will be my favorite,” he musters and you stop to listen, carefully. His voice is low but the smile he's wearing really makes you interested in what he has to say. It's like a secret you're two are sharing.

“What's the name of the play?” You couldn't believe Thor hadn't told you this before, you felt a bit ignorant towards the conversation. Loki puts his hands on your back again to calm your nerves down.

“The Masquerade,” he almost whispers. Like a real secret, almost as if he could read you.

“Oooh,” you teasingly express. “The Masquerade, such an interesting name, will they wear the masks?” For a second you feel dumb to ask, Loki only laughs a little and rubs your back to comfort you.

“Yes, yes, they will. I truly hope you find it as beautiful as I do.” His eyes sparkle with a sprinkle of mischief among the kindness.

“I probably will,” you say more to yourself than to him. If he thinks it's beautiful, there's one more reason for you to like it, there's a special key to the piece, they caught someone's love before you've met it. “What's it about, anyways?”

He looks down at you due to the height difference and brings his gaze back to your eyes, deep piercing blue staring right into you, you feel a bit sick from the closeness.

“It's…uhh,” he pauses, a bit sheepish, you never thought you'd see the infamous, 'evil' god of mischief looking embarrassed to talk about something he loves. He clears his throat. “It talks about several people meeting at a Masquerade ball, one of them, the leader, —who is the murderer, but it's a fact unknown to the characters of the play— wears a mask that resembles the face of a comical ghost, it may sound a bit silly, but it's really symbolic. It has the horror of course, putting the thrill aside.” He still blushes to say.

He continues.

“The thrill of having to discover who is responsible for the murders whilst everyone worries because their lives are at risk, you don't know which ones you trust, there's just…something about it that makes me terrified, I think that's why I'm so invested in the story.” He manages to explain to you. “But I really like it, I've even read the scripts before, a few times. I had the pleasure of reading the original one when it was created.”

Your eyes widen as he says it all. “I love these kinds of things! The mystery!” You exclaim. “I love it, and we'll get to see who's actually the murderer at the end, right? Sometimes I tend to get my intuitions wrong,” you joke.

He chuckles, a bit surprised. “Yes, of course. Where would be the fun if we never get to know who did it all?”

“And you're quite old, huh?” You give a teasing smile, he shakes his head, smiling too. “You know so many things from so many years ago.”

“Don't let this disappoint you, I hope.” There's a glint and the softness he always presents to you. You feel queasy, you feel happy. “Your mortality is not an issue here.”

As the festival went on, even the Warriors did their own little stunt to occupy the time, but the actors never arrived. You were starting to get a bit restless, you wanted to watch the show and you feared you wouldn't get to see what Loki so lovingly shared with you.

Everybody gave out a gasp of exasperation when all the lights of the event were turned off. People immediately sighed a bothered "blackout", but even the candles were blown off, leaving everyone in a sea of darkness swallowing all the excitement there was before.

“We can't enjoy the event without lights!” One of the warriors complained, you couldn't quite remember his name.

“Why can't I light the candle? The fire just doesn't lit,” someone complained loudly. “Where is a God of Fire when you need one?”

“I bet that's all because Thor's not here!”

You turn your head around the annoyed complaints of the people, listening to them all in confusion. Loki made sure to appease everyone telling us that we should all stay calm, that the problem will probably be solved soon.

“How could we know? We can't trust this snake!” Someone screamed, pointing at Loki.

“I'm the prince, and I was raised to rule,” Loki had a stern expression as he spoke. “Whether you like it or not, it's true. As Thor is gone for now, I will listen to all the complaints you have.”

“I bet he did it on purpose!” An old Asgardian lady yelled behind the crowd.

“Why would I? I have nothing to gain from this, it's just more of a headache for me,” he said annoyed now, he probably couldn't handle accusations when all he was trying to do is enjoy something he loves.

“He wanted to watch the show like everybody else,” you awkwardly meek the words out, you felt ashamed as soon as they came out and the people looked at you.

“This trickster has watched the same play a thousand times!” Someone gestured rudely with their hands. “He knows every detail probably, he's not doing anything for us.”

“Silence!” Loki orders, “I will not tolerate insolence! You wish to complain, you do so, but meanwhile, I'll put my best efforts to fix the issue.”

You thought the blackout was going to last for maybe a few minutes, but after a while with each sound of nature echoing throughout the open space, you questioned if you're wrong after all. Why was everyone still in the dark? The complaints were now too loud for your ears.

And the worst part is that you've lost sight of Loki. You remind yourself of some old men pulling him by his sleeves, you try to remember what the men's faces looked like, but it remains unsuccessful.

Your heart is quaking with anxiety, he was your only access to hanging out around Asgard, without Thor around or his trusted brother, you feel completely at loss.

Furiously looking around the place to check if there's anything you can find, whilst others are starting to grab their things to go away.

A sudden light hits the entire circle, a brighter light stinging the people's sight and coming from the theater stage. You hiss and move your gaze, trying to fathom what it's going on.

“The actors are never going to come.” Says a terrified man among the crowd, he's gasping as he looks at the empty stage. What does he mean by that? “Where's the King?! Where's Thor?!”

“We have to run!” An old lady screams, bumping your shoulders as she runs in the opposite direction, grabbing all her stuff. You're still confused but you recompose yourself and immediately try to go somewhere darker.

You scramble through your mind to think of where Loki may be at, you don't want to imagine him suffering with any possible attacks. And your eyes fickle to the golden castle sticking close to the theater area.

You imagine that's the place where they might've taken Loki to, so you run there, readying yourself to the presence of an unquiet Loki, or maybe a tired, questioning Thor, wondering what all the fuss is about, both the princes immediately trying to solve the problems. You'd run and embrace yourself in the feeling of safety around their presence.

Instead of that, the castle was all empty, you knitted your eyebrows as your skin shivered from the cold you felt in the air. The golden castle has never been so cold, and it seems all the lights have gone out here too.

You're alone. There are no palace staff even, no cooks, no nurses, the princes are nowhere in sight. Alone. And it frightens you, you feel the loneliness ripping your bones as you wonder if staying with the angry mob would be a greater idea than trying to come to the castle.

You hear a ringing way too loud for the quiet atmosphere, you recognize the sound of your cell phone ringing. You run to where your temporary room is, and grab the vibrating phone in your hands.

You're puzzled, it's odd. It isn't supposed to function, it never does. Who would want to call you when you're so far from Earth?

Nobody here has a phone connection, so why does it work? Could it be someone from Earth calling you?

You'd probably ask Thor about this later, but you see the number is unknown. You ask yourself if it's possible for the marketing programs to call you even from another realm of distance. You muffle a small laugh as your mental joke eases your nerves.

You hesitantly accept the call, feeling curious.

“Hello?! Is anybody there??!” The raspy male voice questions frantically, it seemed almost robotic, sounding like they're out of breath, you can hear a tiny sob coming from the other line.

“Y-yes, who is it?” You shiver as you listen to your own voice ringing in the closed room.

“Please! Please help me!” The weird voice pleads you. “Please, I found this device out in the blackout, I don't know where I am. But I have you. Please help me.”

You try to shush him calmly. But you're scared as you're still alone, and the voice calling you sounds male but unrecognizable.

“Look I'm sorry, I'm not a person you should be calling right now, I'm really lost too.” You try to explain peacefully, your chest aching from feeling useless. “Please, forgive me,” You hang up.

Seconds later as you ready yourself to leave, organizing all the important stuff, there's the ringing again. You groan loudly and answer the call.

“Hello?!”

“Are you alone?” He asks, giving another sob through the line. “I'm sorry if you are, I just feel uneasy.”

“I'm packing my things to go face an angry mob of people. Why did you call me back? I told you I can't help you.”

“You'd rather face some angry people than help me?” He asks, quite stressed, all of a sudden sounding a bit angry. Your body stills on the spot.

“I don't know who you are!” He sighs as he hears you.

“That's fair.” A silence rings. You sigh and hang up again.

As you walk out the room, the phone rings again.

“I was testing you, I know a woman that's alone shouldn't come around to help people they don't know, you're really smart.”

“Is it you again?” You ask out of patience.

“What are you doing now?” He sounds more curious.

“I told you, I'm packing my things.”

“Why are you lying to me?” You freeze.

“...Excuse me?” You look around and check if there's anyone that saw you leave your room. “Also, wait. How do you know I'm alone? I never told you I was…”

“Were you on the play?” He changes subject.

“I-uhm…Yeah, I was. I wanted to watch it- yeah. Now answer my question!” You respond feeling incredibly uneasy.

“I was there too. Are you also human?”

“Me? Yes, I'm the Midgardian. You're from Earth?” You walk and get giddier on the call, someone from Earth in Asgard would bring you more familiarity. For a minute you forgot your question remained unanswered.

“Was just curious. Thor likes you a lot. He speaks a lot about you.”

“Thor? Yeah, he's my friend...” You wonder why the stranger is bringing him to the topic.

“I think I found a light, will you stick on the line until I reach it?”

“Sure thing.” You don't know why, though you don't see anything wrong with waiting. Your every move is still shaky from fear.

“You never told me your name.” He says suggestively, you hurry down the stairs and breathe out the next words.

“Why do you wanna know my name?”

“Because I want to know who I'm looking at.” A shiver runs down your spine. Like a whiplash, you feel observed as you search your surroundings.

“...What?”

“I wanna know who I'm talking to.”

“That's not what you said.”

“What do you think I've said?” He asks, feigning confusion.

You rush to the entrance only to notice the doors are locked, your hands shaking as you knock the door repeatedly to call attention from the outsiders. You're sure the stranger heard you banging the door through the call. Shit.

You don't say anything as you hang up this time. You try to compose your breathing, the phone rings once again but you don't move to accept the call.

“Someone!! Help me!” You loudly call, waiting for a response, a sign, anything. The dark was even scarier after the call you received, the cold all too threatening, like a bunch of invisible eyes looking under your skin.

After some moments of silence passing through your weeping eyes, you're fighting to keep the sobs hidden by putting your hand to your mouth to muffle the noise.

You kneel down, body glued to the door, holding it for dear life, your heartbeat a bit too loud for your eardrums. You're hugging your knees in a position of defeat as your body trembles with each sob.

You're wondering if the Asgardians had evacuated the castle and forgotten about you. You wondered if Loki forgot about you.

Your phone rings.

“Don't you hang up on me again or I'll make sure you're the first one to get killed.” Your sobs get even louder. “I'll gut you like a fish and feed your organs to the wolves!”

“What are you doing?! Who are you?!” You ask, clenching your fist to your chest. The rough voice from the other line chuckling from your questions.

“Does it matter, sweetheart? You want out, don't you? Poor thing, locked alone in the castle…”

“Please…don't hurt me…”

“You've told me once you like scary stuff, thrillers.” You fight not to hyperventilate. “Let's try some method acting, shall we?”

“No…no I don't. I don't like this shit.” You grit your teeth.

“You do, sweetheart. Don't lie to me. Don't you want to join my play? I planned it just for us, I thought you wanted to watch it. I can make you a star.”

“What?! No…” You cry.

The door opens out of a sudden and your body falls to the dirty earthy ground. You leave a groan, when your head lifts you're surprised by the dark that's out in the wild, the only light being the stars above your head and the vast bright moon occupying the sky.

You lift yourself with trembling knees and hear a voice coming from the phone.

“If you ignore me one more time I'll fucking cut your neck off, you stupid little bitch!” The person threatens and you visibly recoil, throwing the phone very far away, ignoring his instructions and running for dear life.

Panting on your way through the golden speckled Asgardian trail out of the castle, darkened by the lack of lightning that you find in the way, you breathe as best as you can, ignoring the fear clutching your heart and the tears pricking your eyes, face puffy and your nose beginning to stuff.

“Damn it,” you tremble and fall in your steps. Sobbing to the air. “Shit, shit…” You curse to the skies as you try to regain your steadiness.

You start listening to a noise behind you, shuffling the bushes and startling you even more. When you pay attention, there are a pair of black boots making their way out of the bushes, right to your direction. A cloak covers down their ankles while your eyes widen.

You don't stay behind to care for whom it may be, nor wait to check their face, and you keep running.

You're startled as a man comes to your line of vision, screaming, frantic. You tremble and end up falling backwards on the ground, he falls on top of you. Your hands are punching him to move off of you but he seemed just as frightened as you were.

He also noticed your punches were much weaker than the touches the gods carry. The strength they have. He supposed you were a human.

“Oh thank the Lord!” He praises God, and your face is entirely a mix of fear and anxiety, the tears making it very uncomfortable to keep your eyes open. “Thank the Heavens, you have to save me!”

“No!” You scream, pushing him away. A human. He doesn't fool you, he's the damn murderer that's been stalking you. You push his figure behind and he falls off his steps.

And then a knife craves his stomach, your eyes are wide and you're nauseated. The blood speckles to your terrified face. You can't help the scream that leaves you.

You quickly hurry to move up and keep on the run, suddenly someone grabs you by your neck, pulling your whole body up effortlessly, scaring all the breath out of your body.

You're pale as you realize the person is masked, wearing a ghost face mask and a cloak covering their entire body. The person from that was following you, the murderer.

“W-who…” You're fighting, clutching the gloved fingers holding you up and choking you by your pulse. “Who…I-I can't- breathe…” You say between resistant breaths.

“I told you not to ignore me, didn't I? I didn't think I'd need to repeat myself. You seemed like a pretty clever girl.” You recognized the voice from the phone.

“Please…”

“Don't beg, sweet. You're right where I want you to be.” He turns your body, clinging to you, pressing a knife near where his hand was, on your neck. This hand is now resting on your stomach. “I was waiting for this the whole night.”

“What?” You squirm around his grip, wanting to get out.

He clutches your face, forcing you to look at the stage. The one that was before empty, and now, is filled with decorations and blood stains. Your bile raised up to your throat.

Your eyes widened in fear and filled with terrified tears, you could barely hold your screech as you paid attention to the calculated amount of bodies on the floor of the stage.

You were now fully hitting him even though your limbs were being held tight, you still tried to escape.

“Don't be scared, princess.” A shiver runs through your skin, your whole face must be a mix of sweat and tears. It's like everything is turning in your head, dizzying you. Princess.

Cruel joke. Must be a cruel coincidence, a cruel joke against you. You imagined the killer heard the nickname Loki called you, you could only hope Loki was coming to save you anytime. Maybe he knew how much you liked him.

“Don't be scared, we're only starting the show.” He carries your body up and takes you closer to the stage, all while you punch him as best as you can with full fists. He doesn't seem to be affected by your weak punching.

“Shh, now.” He calms you through your breakdown, shushing you and moving a piece of your hair that was sticking on your forehead due to your sweating. “Shh, you'll like this game, I promise.”

“Game?” You repeat with a gasp, mouth open in fright. “I don't wanna play anything, you freak! You monster!” You try to jump off his embrace but he's stronger and clutches his hold onto you with more strength. “Please, let me go…”

“Come on, princess.” He calls through your cries, placing you down on a throne-looking piece in front of the stage, when you touched it, it felt so…real. You wondered how anyone would be able to bring a real golden throne to this place, you wondered if it was like the one the Asgardian King has.

“A real throne for a princess.” You felt the goosebumps rise one more time, bringing your attention out of your senses, as you looked at the masked freak. “You can't get out of this.” He says and you notice you can't move your hands, you actively scream out, really scared at being unable to move.

“What are you doing?! Why?” You wonder, and he touches your face delicately, the ghost face giving you a cold feeling down your spine, your eyes bright with tears as you look up to him.

He moves your face a bit, to get you to look at the stage instead of himself.

“We're just going to play a game, my princess.” He softly says, as much as his raspy voice can muster. You start shaking your head in denial, frantically.

“Please, no. You've had your fun, I promise I won't tell, please! Let me go!!”

“You wanted to watch the play, we're going to do so. You just have to guess who's the one that's guilty. If you get it right, nothing happens, and you get a reward. If you get it wrong, we're going to have even more fun.”

“Why are you doing this?” He doesn't respond, he keeps his hands on your shoulders as you watch ahead.

The play starts, a terrified man tries to run you, but he's interrupted like there's a wall in the way.

“Please, help me! I'm innocent, I need to go away.”

You try to move your hands but you can't. The Ghostface whispers in your ears.

“Do you trust him, sweetheart? It's in your hands.”

You shake your head and close your eyes, desperately trying to ignore the scene in front of you. More characters came into the scene.

“Don't worry about the actors, sweetheart,” his whispering was almost so soft for the fake covering voice, hidden behind the mask. “That man, the one that just screamed,” he points his knife to the man that's staring at him with big scared eyes. “He was wanted as a criminal, his reward was worth thousands of gold for arson, murder and sexual abuse.”

“S-so you don't think sexual abuse is correct?” You ask before even thinking, just feeling a wave of relief.

“What?” He sounds surprised for a second. “Why would I–? Oh, sweet? You thought I'd hurt you like this?” His voice sounded different at the moment he realized, like it really hit him somehow. “I'd never do this to you, there's no need to worry about that, I think it's the most disgusting of all crimes.” He says tilting the knife, you gulp not knowing what to do, but gratefully accepting the fact the killer had moral limits about this. At least.

“Pick one.” You realize you've barely paid attention to the play, to the actors moving.

“Please…” You keep on begging, maybe that'll help, but it gets him even more out of patience. “Please, I can't play with people's lives!”

“You should know what you were getting into before coming here.” He gets closer to your face, you only wish your hands could work so you could pull his mask off to know who he is. “Come on, pick one.”

All the characters looked terrified, one wore a sillier mask of the Ghostface that was beside you, purposely seeming fake and cheaper. You start shaking, it'd be too obvious to pick the Ghostface that's acting, he's supposed to be the story's murderer. No one was actually killed during the act, they just pretended to kill.

“Do you think he did it?” The real killer asks beside you, almost sitting by your side close to your throne. He steps in front of you, steps clear and slow as his boots hit the ground, making you fixated on his every move. “You've been looking at him.” He takes something out of his cloak, and you almost can't believe it when he pulls out a gun and shoots the guy wearing the leader's mask.

“NO!” You scream loudly, hoping to reach his ears before he finishes the murderous act.

A few more very loud shots were done, the stage was now shining with the stranger's dark red blood, and the actors were all shaking, shivering, on their best attempts at holding their cries, because they didn't want to be a part of it, they're afraid they'll be the next.

“This play is originally Midgardian,” he said, ignoring your cries. “Being written decades ago, only modern versions have this new weapon so the characters would be killed at a distance. I think it's practical for our current game.”

“NO, NO, NO, THAT'S HORRIBLE! STOP, STOP THIS, LET ME LEAVE! I DIDN'T PICK HIM, I DIDN'T WANT HIM TO DIE!” You scream and your whole body is shaking as you feel the guilt racking through your bones.

You feel his gloved hands caress your arms.

“Sweet,” his strange voice keeps calling you. “Princess, please, look at me. Look at me,” His glove is tainted with dark blood, staining the rich dark black material. He tilts your chin up to make you look at his masked face. You feel even more afraid, the unfamiliarity and fear burning up your body.

You can't stop crying, and your sobs are becoming louder and louder.

“Look at me. It's okay, remember what I told you? He didn't deserve to live. He was supposed to go through the death penalty anyways.” You didn't know if you trusted his words. You were scared. Terrified. Shaking, and now feeling so guilty you couldn't even think about being saved.

What if they put the blame on you? What about the disgust the princes will feel about you? You feel tainted, dirty, like you killed him yourself, with your bare hands.

You couldn't handle that, you didn't want to take the man's life. You couldn't stop looking at the blood, the smell of iron now clinging close to where you're stuck at.

“Please, let me go. You got what you wanted.” You try one more time.

“You think I got what I wanted?” His hands strongly hold your already immobile wrists. “Princess, I could do this anytime I wished, but I want you.” He says and you shiver even more. “I want you to be the star. My Queen. The one they admire, I want you to stay with me.”

“What? W-what do you mean by that?”

“Thor is not coming back.” He says almost too softly, nonchalant, apathetic, you want to throw up. You're feeling dizzy, there's a knot in your stomach and you don't know what to do.

“What?! What? What??! Why? What have you done to him?! What about Loki?!” You cry and beg for answers.

He chuckles. The mask moving with each small laugh he lets out, you want to rip it off his face. This person you already hate so much.

“It's so sweet of you, it matches your nickname. Sweet, sweet, darling thing. It's so beautiful to know just how much you care about me.” He moves the mask off his face and you're unmoving, you go completely limp as you stare at the face you admired before, the tears wouldn't go away.

Were they correct this whole time? You've been considering a psychopath as your friend this whole time?

“L-Loki?” You hate how you stutter as you say his name, you hate to see him smile at that. You hate that you don't hate him, because your brain can't link the murders to him. Not him. “Loki, why?”

“My father made me love this play, he taught me everything. I was here when it was created, Odin thought of the leaders like brave warriors, soldiers. The weaker ones got killed first but only he remained.” Loki's voice now sounded so suave to your ears, you imagined the strange one must have been granted through his magic and illusions.

“Such a beautiful story, sweetheart. It has so many layers, I can't wait for you to get involved in this artwork as much as I do.” His smile was so bright you felt nauseated, you couldn't even speak. “Look at the irony, look at it! The Norns must love me! Odin died first, he isn't here to present my thriving. I'm the only one that's left, the leader, the King, the ruler. I'm winning now, and the act is going on!”

He conjures a knife and presses it close to your neck, making you yelp and jump a little out of the chair. You're surprised you can move now, but he still grabs you forcefully and pulls you up to him.

“I was the one that made Thor bring you here. I was paying attention to you for so long, it didn't take much convincing until the oaf agreed, he even befriended you. You have no idea how long I've had to wait with my nerves at bay.” His jealousy was visible as he spoke and you shook from his words.

“Look at them. The blood of the undeserving, the weak ones. We are above them, my princess. You and me. We can win this game. I'd never, ever, hurt you.” He says the last sentence with a seriously cold expression, you open your mouth and leave out a loud cry. His frown deepen.

“What's wrong? I thought you wanted to see how the play goes?”

“Not like this. Please…Loki…” You feel his hand reaching under the skin of your dress, pulling it up and moving to caress your thigh. You feel perverted as your eyes open and you look at the blood and the terrified faces among the stage.

You take the moment he's distracted to rush out of his grip, he's caught unexpectedly so his knife accidently cuts your shoulder, you grunt from the small wound.

You turn to leave as quickly as you can, Loki chuckles to himself, thinking about how cute it is, that you think you can be quicker than him. That you're trying to escape, it's what a really smart princess would do, to be brave enough to try.

You pass through bushes, a weird unknown garden to you, wanting to find anyone else that was there before, anyone from the crowd that was running away, screaming loudly your pleas for help that no one hears.

You look behind, not seeing him makes you even more uneasy. You can feel his presence near you, you don't know where he is.

There's a particular downhill area you didn't see right in front of you, you accidently fall. Your legs failing you and hitting the ground from a long altitude distance, cutting your face and any naked skin you're letting out, your bones felt the fall and you curse how stupid you were not to pay attention.

Your skin is tainted with dirt, your face now on the ground. You think your foot is out of place as you groan out in pain, it hurts to move it. You can't believe you could ever be so stupid. Your dress is so painfully yellow after all the dirt.

You cry like a little kid.

You're surprised when your phone —the one you threw away — is right next to you, ringing and intact. Your face is so puffy from the fall, and because of all the crying, all the fear.

You move your arms and hold it close to your ears. “Hello?” Your voice trembles.

“I should have told you, you can't run away from me, darling.” Loki's voice echoes through your mind now, you almost feel it like a safety blanket covering your skin after the defeat, you don't know if you should accept the loss or not. Like a balm, a salve.

He's the one that hangs up this time.

You feel a pair of arms holding you up with him, cozying you into his arms, so you can peacefully rest your head onto his chest, still covered by the dark cloak.

He pats your head, letting his hand softly caress your back as you lay in his arms, he's carrying you somewhere else.

You see the people now, the Asgardians, and the actors from before. So you quickly put your head back to Loki's chest again, wishing to hide away.

“I shouldn't have just thrown it on you like that,” he keeps his soft touches on your clothed back, his magic cleaning the dirt on your skin, balming the wounds. “It takes a lot from someone, but you're so pretty when you're scared. I got carried away, I'm so sorry.” He quickly apologizes after he says so, you keep hidden, not wishing to speak.

He sighs tiredly, he massages your scalp, you almost mewl like a kitten when he does it. Your heart still aches with fear and he tears up at your shivering, afraid he's broken you.

“To all the Asgardians,” he begins, voice loud and authoritative. “I expect all of you to do your normal duties tomorrow, everyone in their expected places. I'll have the lights fixed after I have my fun.” His fingers massage your scalp as he mentions that. His other hand holds you up by your buttocks, he's steadying you in his arms.

Unknowingly to your hiding self, the Asgardians nod tearfully and all so scared of his statements. They all were quivering under Loki's gaze. He seemed like a true mad King to their eyes.

To Loki, he's never been more sane, this is all he ever wanted, he's got you in his arms now. And Thor is gone. He's a King.

“To the actors,” he looks at the frightened crew still in their respective places. “I expect a full play. Just as we planned.” He gestures to them to continue, they lock eyes with each other and look at the corpse close to their feet. “Now.” Loki could only roll his eyes with impatience.

They move in their respective places, getting ready for the show. Loki sits on the throne with you clinging to him like a koala. He's smirking all too proud, he loves feeling needed.

He considers putting the mask back, it's a symbol for greatness in this art. It's what his father used to say.

“Love,” he calls. Not wanting to frighten you more, you look up to him with a quivering lip. “You're okay, we're okay.”

He lifts a bit the end of your dress again, unbothered by the actors frantically moving among themselves, not knowing if they should look or not.

He grabs your ass cheek, making you gasp from the suddenness. You don't want to think about the scene, so you don't. You stick to appreciating his closeness, and him, you feel like a pervert for enjoying this, his low voice speaking against your skin.

He kisses you.

“I'll make you feel better.” He brings you up a bit to lick down your earlobe, moving to kiss your neck. “I'll make it all better, I promise. I've been reckless.” He says, taking off his gloves and pressing his nails against your skin, marking tiny half-moon shapes on your flesh.

Wanting to fully feel you, smiling as he remembers the desperation from the man, he's dreamt years of this performance. Of having a figure to be conquered, the star of the show, you.

The blood still covered his cloak, and it's starting to taint your beautiful, innocent skin. It entices him more, of course. He groans near your ear, you moan under his touch in response.

He hears the movement from the play and he grabs your hair tenderly, you've had enough for one day, he has to be kind, you need his softness that you adore so much. The one he reserves only for you.

He takes off your dress and lets it slip off your body, he's in awe as more of your skin reaches his eyes, his breath hanging for a second.

The actors now well enough not to look at you while the King has you in his arms.

He grabs more than he can, he feels graced by the Gods. He wants to suffocate you with his passion, the blood on your skin tainting his hands. The blood gets him so hard, leaving him impatient as he ruts against your clothed pussy, searching for friction.

He sucks on your neck, taking his time to your shoulders, your hands tremble as you move to grab his hair. You keep your eyes closed, each breath you tried to convince yourself this was completely fine.

Loki's eyes glance to the stage for a moment, he takes a look at a character picking the ghostface mask off the floor, and with a shaky breath and, most likely heavy heart, the next thing to be heard was a short scream. The cut of the knife tainted the actors even more, one of them turned to run to a corner and throw up.

Loki pressed his hands against your ears so you wouldn't listen to the vomit, nor the blood splashing out. But you knew.

"Weak bastards," Loki thought, "they'd never survive a war. Weak, fake puritans. Their blood is a noble sacrifice."

Loki kept a hold of your head to his chest so you wouldn't watch the scene, you were still shaking, poor thing, wouldn't be able to take it. Your curiosity was dangerous to you, he had to keep you safer than he assumed necessary, innocent, untainted little thing.

“Princess,” he takes your face between his hands, only leaving a small distance between his lips to yours, practically speaking right into your mouth. You blushed under his loving gaze. “Can I have you?”

Your breath stopped short, you were so dizzy you feared fainting from such intense emotions. Loki was all you wanted, but after this? You were terrified.

“You don't need to accept, I won't even make you watch the show. I fear it'd be too much for your pure heart to take,” he carefully fixes a singular strand of your hair to behind your ear.

“I'm not pure,” you meekly said, your eyes stinging with the weight of the truth. You've never felt dirtier, never felt more like a sinner. If punishments were deserving for those who committed atrocities, you trembled to believe you'd need them all. “I'm not pure, I deserve to suffer.”

“Don't say that,” Loki sternly commands. “Don't say that, not you. If there's a soul in this universe that deserves all the nine realms, it is you.” His words are stern but so soft, you once again feel your lips quiver at the start of another sob. You were way too emotional, everything was way too wrong.

Everything but the sensual way he was touching you.

His fingers kept a gentle caress of your back, down your spine, to reach your hips and buttocks. His breath hitched as he gritted his teeth, attempting patience, waiting for a sign that you soon granted him.

“Please…” You begged, like a poor little mouse under his tricks. He felt oh so blessed, the Norns truly must love him. He practically yanks you panties down, they hang somewhere around your calves as he starts to touch your needy cunt.

He skillfully touches your folds, your pussy clenching from the movements he's making, he slips his fingers inside your cunt to stroke that sensitive spot inside of you, curling his fingers, making you a mess.

“That's it, sweetheart, take your pleasure,” he craved those pleased whiny moans of yours, they were a treasure to his ears, you were clenching around him and lifting yourself a bit up with each thrusting of his fingers. He couldn't control his groans to himself. “Take it from me, it's yours. All yours.”

His palm circles your clit, paying extra attention to the moments you get sensitive, shivering under his hold like his precious toy, heat running down your skin. You shamelessly begin riding his palm. He kept your legs fully open now with his other hand, keeping a strong grip on your skin.

“Let me play, darling. Don't be cruel.” You didn't know if your tears came from pleasure or fear now. Your mind wasn't allowing you to focus on the seriousness of the situation, you didn't want to look at the blood, and the smell of him intoxicated you to the point you ignored the smell of iron around the place.

“Y-yes…” You mindlessly opened your legs further, making him give you the prettiest, most devilish grin your eyes could see.

“I'll treat you so well, you will enjoy being mine, princess. I'll make sure you do.” You don't hold your moaning, unafraid of the possible eyes wandering to your figure. Your nails digged his shoulders, your hips rutted against him unashamed, begging for the friction, for more of his marvelous fingers.

He helps you through your climax as you're gushing over his clothes, you're a trembling mess, coming undone for him, your entire face now very sticky with sweat and tears, the post-orgasmic bliss clouding your mind.

“Do you want to know how the show ends?” You feel goosebumps as he asks that, no, no you don't want to.

He looks down at you, bringing his fingers up as a trail of your cum sticks on the way to his mouth. You're dazed as he licks his fingers clean, keeping eye contact with you, you see a bit of blood sticking in between the act.

You wonder whose blood it is, if this is any hygienic, but you supposed being a God had its perks for these things. Your eyes squeezed tight in shame.

He makes sure to lift your face to make your eyes open again.

“No need to feel embarrassed if you like it.” Your blood boils and the heat you feel increases, how dare he? To assume you'd like being part of something so cruel?

“I don't like it.” You say coldly, not passing any of the burbling rage you feel.

He laughs a bit from your serious expression, you feel mocked. You knit your brows, you didn't know Loki could be this way.

“I love you, princess.” It's like a stab on your heart after the cruelness.

“No, you don't.” He scoops you up his arms, out of a sudden, you yelp as you're lifted, instinctively holding up around his neck.

He moves the throne magically to the center of the theater. Everything looks so hazed and spectacularly planned out.

He places you carefully down the throne, even fixing the skirt of your dress as he leaves you there.

You feel out of place, the characters that are alive have pleading eyes but none have the courage to move and run away. You begin to feel your blood boil for them too, how could they be so weak? How could you?

“My heart.” Loki calls you, you shiver because of the pet-name.

Your tears came back again, and your head now stings drastically from so much crying. If you survived, the headache you'd feel tomorrow will be painful.

Now, your fear was one thing, your anger another, even your cries as you orgasmed were angelical and he craved them like a sick bastard. But your sadness? That stung deep into his heart, ripping it like a carved knife tearing his insides out.

“Please… please don't cry, love. It's okay.” He never thought he'd beg another, he wanted to make everyone else pay. But you? You didn't deserve pain or suffering, and now you're crying because your poor heart is so sad it can't take any more of what he's made you go through.

He'd have to go a long time apologizing, your sadness was starting to cling to his bones.

“My love, look at me.” He holds your hand, kneeling by your side down the throne. Like you're the Queen and he's just a peasant, your servant, a pet.

You don't feel very royal at the moment, you don't really feel in control. If that's what he's planning on doing.

“That's my pretty girl.” As much as you're defiant and trying to keep yourself unattached, you can't help but blush at his words. They seem innocent, they seem honest. “My pretty girl, now the Queen of Asgard. Just as you deserve.” He looks down at your body and licks his lips. He'd feed you all the compliments in the world just because you deserve them.

His hands slide to your thighs and squish them under his hands. He leaves out an animalistic moan, looking up at you with so much desire clinging to his pupils.

“I've been waiting for this part the whole night.” You feel off at that, but he holds you as he hovers over your figure on the throne, quickly scrambling to get rid of his pants. Your panties have been discarded a long time ago, so the wetness is now ruining the fancy marble of the throne, your cheeks warm up at the realization.

He's pinning you against the throne with his weight, his back to the audience, covering you.

He sheaths himself inside of you, he goes in more easily than you imagined, making your eyes round as you feel him throbbing inside you, desperate to move.

He pulls out a bit and thrusts back into you at once. He has an insufferable smile covering his face, and his eyes closed in pleasure, appreciating the warmth of your cunt squeezing him in, welcoming his cock like you're made for him.

“Oh princess, I envied all the souls that had the pleasure of being near you.” He grabs your chin roughly forcing you to look into his eyes, your own eyes moist as you feel so inferior to him. “But what can they do now? What would they do now that I have you? I have you. I have you.” You pant as he bucks so deep into you, you can feel it hitting impossibly deep to the hilt.

“Y-you don't.”

“Oh?” He taunts. “Is that so, my heart? What does it look like to you?” He keeps his punishing pace into you, hands pressing down your womb where you can both feel the bump of his manhood shoving into you, balls repeatedly hitting your ass with every frantic thrusting. His sweat hitting your skin as he fucked you like a beast. “Because to me,” another harsh thrust, you moan and crave your nails on the skin of his back, legs wrapping around his waist. “It seems like I've won.”

Your eyes roll up your skull as he keeps hitting that sensitive spot, he was craving the sensation of your exploding orgasm, he craved to feel your cunt straining his cock as you milk his cock. His hand moves lower as his thrusts become more powerful, he rubs your clit. He hears your panting and moans into your ear like your sounds are a victory of its own.

You cling to him as his hips work you until your head falls backwards, the lights all on you as you spasm around him and his massive form still holding you for dear life. Loki finished with a bite down onto your neck, right next to your lifeline, biting a bruise as you felt him spilling into you.

You cling to him as you cease your rocking hips, he holds your tired legs down as he keeps himself rested inside you, calming down his breathing as your forehead touches his.

You look down and see the earlier blood smeared across your skin, you gulp, he feels your cunt clench from the sight and he gives a satisfied smile.

He coos you into his arms, embracing your form.

“I have you, princess.” He pulls out carefully and you hiss from oversensitivity. A long string of his cum coming out of you, you watch it with fascination as it runs down your thighs, moving a bit so it doesn't ruin the pristine throne. “I have you, my star.”

He conjures a knife again, and hands it to you. You watch it dazedly, the bliss really making you more fuzzy.

“Dearest,” he sweetly calls you, he's been doing that a lot, you notice. “The star needs to finish the show. The true leader. The one they're obsessed with, the true Star.”

You're limp as you take the news, you move the knife on your hands with a detached curiosity, it's clean now but you wonder for how long it's been used, and for what kind of things.

“I can't kill anyone.” You weakly say, afraid you'll disappoint, his eyes are wide but he still nods. He's quick to show you he's not disappointed.

He pats your hair and nuzzles your cheek with his face, getting your lips close to him so he can give you multiple and multiple kisses all over your face. You feel his affection like a healing balm in itself, you bathe yourself in it.

“It's okay, it doesn't need to be you.” He affirms, still passing his hands across your hair, and skin. He glanced at another actor, you hid your face again into his chest as you anticipate the cruel fate that'll obviously occur no matter what.

And it did, you heard another splash, someone else needed to die. You're shaking and your sobbing is louder than you wanted, Loki keeps you scooped onto him. He begins rocking you back and forth gently as a means to calm you down, cherishing you, babying you.

“The Star agrees for it to be the end, I presume?” He asks and you nod repeatedly. You just want it to end.

“Please… please, no more.” You beg weakly, he cradles you and coos some more, keeping you safely tucked in his arms, he starts to move around to stand up with you still clinging onto him like a koala.

“This will be all.” He gives a satisfied smile to the crowd of actors, the ones that survived shaking, trembling. Still meekly downing their heads as all actors do when a play's over. They rush to the exits, and Loki allows them.

“Shh, now.” He still asks of you as your cries are unstopping. “Please, love, it's over.”

“What will happen now?”

“I've told you, I'm the King. Nothing will happen, this play lasted for generations, it's the first opportunity I've had of making it my own. Centuries before you even dreamed to exist, but they don't dare to defy the King.” He patiently passes his hand up and down your back, holding you more to him. “We're safe. I told you. We're all safe.”

You guessed he wasn't going to refer to the dead people around you, or the ones that died in the way.

He takes a trembling you with him somewhere else, you don't know where you're going, but you don't have the bravery to peek out and see. You're still afraid to be the next.

You feel even more perverted everytime you think about death and feel his sticky cum running down your thighs, you feel even more perverted as you don't regret it.

“I'll take you to our chambers.” He says, as if it's nothing.

“Our chambers? Mine is…” He interrupts you. You check around and notice you're inside the cold castle, nobody's in sight but you and Loki.

“No…not yours, our chamber.” He recalls you. You shake your head clinging to his chest again, leaving out another sob.

“I'm sorry,” he continues, frowning now. “Do you hate me?” His voice trembles as he asks, your fists curled around his muscular chest as your mind fights to hate him, but you fear you don't. You don't want to tell him that you don't hate him. “This was more traumatic to you than I assumed it would be.”

Your eyes open as you try to look anywhere but his face, and as you peek at the floor, you see the shiny, bloody ghost face mask left on the floor. As if it's nothing now, as if nothing happened.

It gives you the chills.

“I-I, I've never had to–” You sob loudly. “Never thought I'd need to see- see people being murdered.” Your stinging eyes now struggled to keep open, you fought to breathe and to speak. He tries to calm you down and rubs over your clothed skin some more.

“My love, my heart, it's over now.”

Is it? Is it over? Was it all a huge nightmare? Your eyes squeeze shut as you wish for it to be all a giant, mean trick. But as you opened them, everything was real, and the blood, the cum, the memories, still very much present speckled across your impure skin.

“It's over.” He places you ever so gently down his giant bed, it felt heavenly, the pillows were so soft and the mattress smelled like paradise. It felt so heavenly you sighed out in relief, your bones received the touch against the bed like a treat. “It's been enough for this year, but we'll need to treasure the future performances.”

Your heart froze, of course. There were additionals.

“You don't need to worry about that now, my heart.” He pleads again, kissing you, you accept, and then pressing a gentle peck to your forehead. “For now, I'll let you relax. I'll prepare a bath for us, and I'll let you rest your divine mind into dreamland. Does this sound suitable?” He asks with a kind smile, smoothing his fingers over your wrists.

You clear your throat to say.

“Yes.”

“Perfect, my heart. As I have you, I'll take care of you. I've planned to have you as my Queen for a long time. I won't let it go to waste, I promise I'll take care of you.” He scoops you up to him again, he seemed to enjoy treating you like a princess a lot. Cradling his face next to yours. “One day you'll forgive me. But for now, for now, let me make you learn how to love me.”

Taglist: @mischief2sarawr @dangertoozmanykids101

#dark!loki #soft!dark loki #loki x reader #loki x you #loki #loki fanfic #loki laufeyson #loki friggason #loki odinson #loki angst #ghostface!loki #ghostface!au #loki of asgard #loki laufeyson x reader #possessive!loki #obsessive!loki #yandere!loki #loki smut

391 notes · View notes

kaciebello · 1 month

Text

Sibling rivals, sibling allies

Masterlist

Nico Di Angelo x Hades! reader (platonic) Summary: Nico was aware his sibling loved him, to the point that lectures were inevitable. Warning: Angst, Siblings written by an only child, no use of y/n Author note: English is not my first language so I am sorry for any mistakes beforehand. I am not very good at angst so I hope I did this some justice. I also tried to make it gender-neutral as the request did not specify, however, this is my first time writing like that so I am sorry if I missed anything. All right to the artist of the fanart, I could not find them, but if you do, let me know and I will tag them. Proofread by me and me only (Ｔ▽Ｔ) request: Yes word count: 1,3k Song: Lean on - Major Lazer ( ft. MØ, DJ Snake )

Sibling rivalry was something everyone expected when having more than one child. And who especially expected it were the Greek gods. They even encouraged it. Sadly, for Hades, his children got along and refused to fight each other.

Usually, Nico would play mythomagic with them or just lazily exist in the camp. Only a few people would talk to him. But he is used to it now. That's why he was confused when they ran into the Hades cabin and suggested training with said two. He agreed nonetheless, not wanting to disappoint his last older sibling, and he also thought Percy was okay-ish.

That is why he was standing in the area, watching them absolutely beat Percy's ass. Annabeth was standing beside him but did not look very happy about what was happening. He can't blame her, he would not be either if the roles were reversed. Also, the Hades children weren't really known for their good temper, so it made sense.

So when Percy tapped out, he wasn't surprised. However, the girl next to him made her way to help her friend up.

“Close your mouth, flies gonna take it as an invite.” They said, slightly tapping his chin to close it. Nico glared at them but did not argue. they were covered in sweat and breathing heavily. Nico was sure it was from the sun, not the fight, as he dubs Percy would give it much. If anything they more likely only tickled each other with swords. Although he was warned, that activity can cause accidental stab wounds and immediate visit to the infirmary.

The other two campers joined them. Percy bleeding from his scratches and Annabeth frowns on her face. He knew it was his turn now. That's what they agreed on. He did not think putting him, a child of one of the 3, against Annabeth was fair. Granted, were it a few months back when he thought he had a crush on her, before releasing he had a crush on Percy, it would have been harder to fight her.

“Come on whip, it's our turn.” Says Annabeth and gestures her knives at him. Nico can only tighten his hold on the sword he was holding. He takes a few steps to face her.

“Annabeth.” Sounds behind him warningly. The girl in question just huffs before charging at him. He moved out of the way, but it was like she already knew his steps before him and stuck him in the leg.

He winced but kept on his feet. She charges again, but this time he manages to avoid and block her from sighting him. Annabeth did not like that. Not only she was a fast thinker, but Nico would also forget she had been trained by Luke, one of the best swordsmen in the last couple of hundred years. Annabeth strikes again and Nico has no time to even register what is going on. She slashes his Achilles. Nico yelps and falls, having no strength to put weight on his leg. Annabeth manages to get hold of his sword. She was not standing above him with the tip of his sword at his throat.

“Get up,” she says with a sinister smile. He won't admit it but he was scared for a moment. That was before Annabeth got slammed by his sibling and rolled away. Percy yelped in surprise and went to help Annabeth while the siblings helped each other.

“What the fuck was that for?” Argued Annabeth once she regained her composure.

“You immobilized him! What the fuck do you mean get up!” His sibling yelled still kneeling next to him. Nico has sat up now, trying to move his leg but when pain shot up he decided against it.

“Monsters are not gonna hold back just because he can't stand!” Annabeth was now making her way to them. Percy was trying to stop her but was very unsuccessful.

“Monster my ass Annabeth. You knew very well what-” A roar cuts her off. All of them freeze in their spots. A rustling in the trees got their attention. A distant yell is what got them moving. Nico felt four arms lifting him.

His sibling and Annabeth were trying their best to get his limping ass away from whatever there was. Percy was surveying the area when he saw it.

“Fuck.” Was all that left him. there stood, an automatic bull, as big as the house. All of their eyes widened as they tried to hurry up. unfortunately, the bull has seen them and charged at them. Nico could feel his weight bearing but only on Annabeth as his sibling went to aid Percy in trying to distract the beast. He wanted to stop them, but he was no use at the moment.

Annabeth stops and props Nico on a tree.

“What are you doing?” He hisses and she just rolls her eyes.

“I'm going to help them.” She says making sure Nico is comfortable.

“You can't leave me here.” Nico could see that she took that as a challenge. before she could leave him however they both heard Percy yell. turning their attention to him they can see a giant boulder heading their way. Nico makes eye contact with his sibling before he feels something tackling him on the ground.

“NICO” Was all he heard before the world became black.

When Nico came to his senses, he thought that perhaps, Dad pulled him aside, that maybe travelledow travelled. And Brehabs a small hope of seeing Bianca was there. However, when he heard his sibling absolutely destroying their vocal cords from the yelling, he knew he was mistaken.

Opening his eyes, above him stood a well-known Apollo kid, his name was Will or something like that. The light from his hands makes Nico turn his face away and to the side. Only to be faced with a comic view. Annabeth sitting on a bed having her hand looked after by a different Apollo kid. Percy is next to her, holding her other hand. And his sibling, going off on both of them, mostly Annabeth by the looks of it. Annabeth's head was hung low, it was apparent that she got an earful from Percy beforehand.

Nico is enjoying the situation. Not only is he not getting reprimanded, but he is also getting taken care of by a cute guy. His freedom is shored, however, as Percy nudges the other Hades kid and points to him.

His sibling turns to him at lightning speed, when they see he's awake, they rush to him kneeling by the bed. He can see they are worried even when all of them are out of immediate danger. When they saw he was okay they jumped in for a hug. Will jumped back startled and Nico could only groan in pain. Letting him go just as quickly as they hugged him

“Sorry, I just. I just thought I would have to bargain with Dad.” They say with a smile on their face. Although tears were streaming down their faces making them look a little bit hysterical.

Nico smiled at them.

“I'm fine, I did not even see Dad.” He says, trying to reassure them that he in fact did not die and came back. They just chuckled and nodded.

They all sat in silence for a few minutes before Annabeth with Percy walked up to his bed.

“I'm sorry.” She says. Nico expected her to continue but she didn't. So Nico just nodded, taking in that they were all still startled by what happened.

Next to him, his sibling stood up. It was like a switch turned in in them. Manually they made both Percy and Annabeth sit down at the end of his bed. They took a deep breath before starting.

“I am lost for words!...”

And despite being lost for words, they continue to yell at them for the next 45 minutes. Nico would not want it any other way.

Tag: thefallensacrifice

138 notes · View notes

reanimatedandmedicated · 2 months

Text

I want to matter. To be seen, known, valued. There are people that do, but my fucking brain won't allow me. Screaming voices in my head critique everything I say and do, preaching that it is only a mask that they care for. That I am evil, useless, broken. A discarded tool, a blade too dull to ever be wielded. Shame, insecurity, loathing- I'll give my body, but only carefully, sheepishly, apologetically. I'll give my brain, nervous, confused, erratic, unstable.

I'll give it all, and beg for you to put me down before you end up cutting yourself on the jagged edges. Go to pick me up, and all I'll ever see is how far I now stand to fall again when I'm once again replaced. I'll always be the girl that wasn't good enough, that wasn't attractive enough, that wasn't wealthy enough, stable enough, confident enough. I'll always be the dodged bullet, the name that is either winced at or mocked upon mention, if I'm even mentioned at all. I'll always be the one that disappointed.

I go to therapy, and I can't bear to help this stupid girl. Shes caused all my problems, this bitch in the mirror, and i hate her so, so much. Why should I show her any mercy? I'll dole out money for friends, volunteer at shelters, give my bus passes away, but really, who am I fooling? My function is to serve, but never engage. Lurking in old chats and servers, keeping abreast of goings on, too afraid too say anything or even leave a little heart. I am not of the people, I am an observer. I will always be some stranger pantomiming the best attempt at humanity I can force.

Do I evoke smiles? My sincerest wish, for those close to me, is to be a source of comfort and happiness. But who can fondly recall the flight risk, punching orderlies and attempting to eat the nurses? Who can have warm recollections of the girl who cried and begged like some animal when she ought have shown grace? I will stay in the periphery, silhouette out the corner of everyone's eye. I'll keep myself where I belong. I tried to step out, gently coaxed for over half a decade only to be thrown aside and have the future I broke my body for awarded to someone else.

I secretly hate those that care sometimes. I hate them, when I want nothing more than to let go, and I am smothered by the assurances that numbing my pain will hurt their feelings. My salvation, my punishment, will be traumatizing and scary. So I pop the pills, pretend to be well enough to carry on, drown myself in cheap booze whenever I dance too close to the razor's edge. Hoping that the white of my smile can offset the fresh red on my limbs, but color theory was never something I learned.

I joke about villainy and lean into it for fun, but it's also. What else can I be? I'll always be the bad guy, the unstable shock story, the melancholy memory. I'll always be a fucking problem, at least I can aestheticize it. The guilt I feel looks best in leather and neon.

Another night sober, first sober night this week, and I'm already losing. I can't tell if the burning on my arms or the horrible thirst- I can't tell which of them is stronger.

A lit cigarette extinguished in my leg jolts me back to typing. With enough imagination, one could even pretend it to be the warmth of a finger brushing up against these lichtenberg relics.

I'll survive and live to regret another day spent.

There's a girl in my bed tonight. Her name is Brandy, and she's so tempting. Inviting. She whispers such sweet promises. I will be held, warmed, from the inside. Sweet bliss of emaciated and stunted thought, too brittle to hurt, too abstract to scare.

No, not another sober night. Not tonight. The walls are crawling, and they chitter among themselves in gossip not heard but felt, gazes not beheld but tasted. They hate me. I hate me too. I'll give them a show.

Bottom's up, and goodnight.

#goodnight #vent #hurt

5 notes · View notes

truly-morgan · 9 months

Text

[Transfem JC, feat. protective WWX and JL]

MingCheng | Mo Dao Zu Shi Modern AU 20-06-2021

[Modern #mingcheng with trans woman jc]

What if trans!JC in her early 30's wants to start dating again after being single and alone for so long? (Raising jl isn't easy and her last relationship didn't finish well). She tries dating app, wwx at her side doing commentary on the guys they're seeing.

Really, no one seems interesting.

Then a familiar face pops on her screen and they are both surprised. "Isn't that nhs brother/lxc friends?" They both comment at the same time, looking more closely at the profile.

Jc has to admit, nmj is really handsome and well, his description wouldn't have caught her eyes normally, but already knowing him make her swipes right. They keep looking at profiles and messaging those who already matched jc (nothing really impressive tbh) until a notification tells them nmj matched with jc.

Jc is pretty happy and excited about it if she has to be honest and the chatting goes pretty well. They have a couple of things in common, have similar tastes and jc really enjoys talking with him.

It doesn't take long before they settle on a first date (and of course wwx helped pick up a cute outfit with the help of jl). The date goes well and others quickly follow up, often messaging each other in the day. Officially dating comes after a while of flirting and meeting up.

As the relationship starts to be serious, jc starts to be a bit nervous.

They never went farther than cuddling, kissing and making out a bit and nmj clearly doesn't know she's trans.

Jl and wwx enter in protective mode because they /won't/ allow anyone to hurt jc again. Jl absolutely loves his aunt and she deserves the best and he won't ever let anyone hurt her now that he is a bit older. He cannot understand how anyone could see jc as bad for who she is.

On the other hand, wwx has been by jc side since she came out to him as trans and never let her down even when shit went really messy and hard. He is happy to see her doing so well now and being happy, he won't let any other jackass break her heart.

But they also both know jc cannot exactly keep this a secret from nmj forever.

So jc invite him over because she want to talk about something important (while jl and wwx are here, they both refused to let them alone, jc is secretly relieved about that stubbornness of them). Nmj is worried something might have happened but doesn't force her to tell him, instead coming over to hear what is the important thing she has to say.

when he get there, jc pushes wwx and jl to another room, not wanting for their presence to make nmj nervous (but close enough to hear and be ready to come if the worst outcome were to happen).

she makes some tea to calm her nerve, finally sitting down with nmj at the kitchen table. she doesn't say anything at first, searching how to say it, ending up with going for straightforward (nmj prefers straightforwardness and she doesn't want to dance around the subject).

"So, there's something I haven't told you yet, but feel would be important to tell you if we continue with this relationship" jc starts, hand fiddling with the handle of her cup, "I didn't want you to discover from someone else or by accident, so I wanted to tell you myself before things get farther".

at this point, nmj is a bit confused as to what could be so important to tell him that could make him want to /break up/ with jc. He offers a small smile, hoping it can reassure her as she gathers her courage.

"I... am trans" jc finally says.

she wants to have more, but the lack of actual reaction makes her nervous and tense up, fiddling more with the teacup. "I-I get it if you don't want to stay with me, am used to it don't worry you can just tell me, at least it will hurt les-" she starts to ramble nervously before jumping as a hand grabbed hers gently.

jc then looks up to meet nmj eyes, the man smiles softly at her with no hint of disappointment and disgust, just reassurance and love.

"I won't leave you simply because you are who you are" he assures her first, "I love the jc I met and you being trans won't change it, I will be there to support you too".

jc finally manages to calm down, laughing a bit she tears up, happy that nmj isn't like her exes and is clearly more than fine with her being trans. she lets him pull her into strong and reassuring arms, letting herself fully calm down from this subject that had made her more stressed than usual.

jl and wwx eventually come out from their hiding, which does make nmj a bit curious because he didn't expect for them to be hidden (maybe not jl since he lives here, but wwx yes).

jc mentioned they wouldn't let her stay in the apartment alone because of bad past experiences (tho she doesn't go much on those past experiences and nmj doesn't push her to do so).

They end up talking a bit more, nmj wanting to know what were things he shouldn't do or say to make her uncomfortable if she ever needs his help for anything trans-related. jc is a bit curious as to why he seems so used to it and nmj admits that his brother is also trans.

"Wait, he is?" wwx asks surprised

nmj I suddenly a bit nervous that he might have outed his brother (he saw nhs often talking about it with other friends, so he assumed he had told them).

after a call to his brother nmj is reassured to hear nhs is alright with it (he thought he had told them actually and is surprised neither of them really caught onto it).

so everything is fine, jc gets a nice and supportive boyfriend and everyone is happy (tho it doesn't stop wwx and jl from testing nmj like before to make sure he won't break jc hearts too).

I dunno why, but I want nhs and jc to have self-care nights (nhs suggestion after seeing jc so stressed) and they talk about anything and sometimes trans thing while nmj is just sitting next to them, helping out with whatever they are doing while being a bit confused as to what they are talking about (but it's fine, he also learn more like this).

I just wanted trans lady jc to have a good boyfriend and now she has, no one can ever hurt her with a little protection squad (which now also includes lxc and jgy because they ain't gonna let anyone hurt their friend's girlfriend)

Original

#tweet archive #mdzs #mo dao zu shi #mingcheng #nie mingjue #jiang cheng #modern au #trans jiang cheng #transfem jiang cheng #trans headcanon #protective jin ling #protective wei wuxian #they want the best for jiang cheng

11 notes · View notes

matan4il · 11 months

Note

The idea of the finale and officially being canceled opinion. For me, nah I would have hated it no matter what. Full confession the reason dates back to Fried Green Tomatoes. I'm the original anon who asked you about them. Always thank you for that beautiful meta on them.

There has always been a great debate on that movie being remade to be more queer and I have never been on board with the notion because quite frankly, the actresses are 🔥 and the movie was so beautiful.

For me, one of the reasons is that over the years, anyone I talk to has a great many opinions. Was Mrs. Threadgood Idgy, if so did she really marry someone else, was she Gradys wife. The list is honestly so good. The best take was Mrs Threadgood was Idgy but yes years later married a man for companionship and Ruth was still her great love. However, the point is I have never met anyone who doesn't believe that Ruth and Idgy were just BFFs. Even if you view them as not sexual, everyone views them as cardinal. Simply their person. And Buddie has gone right to that, and almost past that point by now.

So my opinion is to stop leaving a season with potential women. There is no need, and it's cheap. They don't develop good ones. Give the viewers the opportunity to write and fill in their own ending.

Especially because I have never met a viewer who is like this show won't be complete for me if Buddie don't end up with women. Forcing them into relationships is literally the definition of heteronomativity. No one cares to see it so why not give everyone what they want. Clearly they are each other's person, no LI and open ended to let FF writers take over. It's really not hard ABC!!

Awwww, Fried Green Tomatoes Nonnie! *hugs* Thank you so much for requesting the meta for it, and inspiring the gifset comparing it to Buddie. I am SO pleased to hear you enjoyed it! *hearts forever*

I agree, the movie is perfect as it is, the book is obviously more explicit than the film, and I think that says something in itself about the period it was made in. I think something important for queer people (and allies if they're interested) is learning our histories, and this is a part of it. What could and couldn't be said in a movie about gay love meant to reflect a time further into the past, when the most acceptance one could hope for, without any cynicism, was in silence.

And of course, as you can see in my other recent ask replies as well, I couldn't agree with you more on the underdevelopment for the female Love Interests and its deeply disappointing effect on the meaning of Buddie's journeys. I very much hope 911 under ABC's supervision will give us canon Buddie, but I will accept an ending where there are no LIs, where Buck and Eddie are acknowledged as each other's person, and we the viewers are invited to fill in the blanks. Then again, I have said before that even if the show does - stupidly - end on a note where Buddie are with underwhelming LIs? I'd still just assume they'd eventually break up and find their way to each other. It's their inevitable trajectory, just like Frank was never going to be Ruth's endgame.

Thank you for this ask, Nonnie! Hope you find the reply helpful! xoxox

#ask #anon ask #fried green tomatoes #idgie x ruth #fandom love #buddie #911meta #911 on abc #911 abc #buddie meta #911 meta #911abc #9-1-1 #evan buckley #eddie diaz #911onabc #911 #edmundo diaz #evan buck buckley

12 notes · View notes

sims4storiesbygracepensora · 10 months

Text

Story 4

Story 4: Characters introduced in this story

Danielle Scully, 46 Years Old, Divorced Spouse of Kelly Fottsbury. Family friend of Wendy. Violinist

Story 4: San Mushyno, 122 Hakim House, Same day (Sat 2nd September) 2.30 pm

Door bell rings

Wendy: Oh! Danielle! I'm so happy to see you

Danielle: I hope I didn't disturb you...

Wendy: Not at all! I was just working on some cases and I just wanted to take a break. Come inside!

Wendy: You still have this bad sunburnt from the holidays. So what have you been up to since we last parted?

Danielle:: Hmm nothing much, I'm just going to work, I dropped the boys over to their father and I decided to say hi...

Wendy: How are the boys doing?

Danielle: (hesitantly) Well...

Wendy: What happened?

Danielle:: Well... Please don't say anything to Brenden... I just learned that Isaac is smoking!

(Dianelle is mother to twin boys: Isaac and Carter)

Wendy: (Shokingly) Smoking what ?!?

Danielle:: For God's sake, only plain cigarettes! Though I found him coming home high once!

Wendy: Gosh! Have you tried talking to him? Do you think it's the divorce?

Danielle:: I don't know! He's undergoing speech therapy with the school psychologist and I'm waiting for a feedback... I've tried my best to get them enrolled in this private school and he goes around smoking. You can't imagine how disappointed I am right now. Ok! Let's talk about something else... I'll have my first solo recital next year!

Wendy: Woah! Nice. I know you were working on that!

Danielle: Yeah, My agent finally managed to convince the orchestra to organize that... provided I compose two more melodies till December.

Wendy: Is that a lot of work?

Danielle: If I'm deeply inspired, not much!

(Chantel coming back from her walk around the city)

Wendy: Oh Dianelle, I believe you know Chantel. Willy's daughter?

Danielle: Yeah of course!

Chantel: Hi

Wendy: Chantel asked me if she could stay here until she finds herself an apartment. She's working as a model here and wants to be closer to her job...

Danielle: Great! So how did you find the city, it's different from Brindleton Bay, right?

Chantel: Oh yeah! So much! it's much more busy and people here are quite diverse... I love it.

Danielle: I won't stay long, Wendy, I've got to go to work. I'll call you during the week and please not a word to Brenden.

Wendy: Don't worry, take care!

Chantel: So Danielle's your friend right?

Wendy: Much more than a friend, she's like my daughter! Hmm, she was married to my nephew but now she's... seeing my brother!

Chantel: What?1? No way! (laughs loudly)

Wendy: (annoyed, trying to change the subject) Do you want something to drink, what would you like for dinner?

Chantel: (while looking at her phone) No thanks, I'm invited to this huge party... You know, for work...

Wendy: (disappointed) Oh okay...

Wendy: Are you sure? I can order some sushi...

Chantel: No thanks, I don't eat carbs...

Chantel: I'll get ready...

Wendy: Seems like I'll spent my evening working today as well...

2 notes · View notes

c-is-for-circinate · 2 years

Text

More of the Untamed modern AU D&D thing! (Oh lord there's so much D&D in this one. This might actually be easier to follow if you don't know the Untamed than if you don't at least a little bit know D&D.) (On the other hand, if you know zero things about D&D, you are at least in the same boat as Lan Zhan, so there's that. Poor, poor Lan Zhan.)

Pre-Wangxian, starring the Yunmeng Trio knowing each other very very well, Jin Zixuan being an awkward disaster, and Nie Huaisang not getting paid nearly enough to play therapist at the D&D table, plus bonus Lan Zhan refusing to have a panic attack about not knowing what a tiefling is.

-------------------------

"So," Nie Huaisang says, folding his hands over his source manual and smiling in the friendly, cheerful way that he knows only strikes terror into the hearts of his veteran players, so far. "Let's talk about your character concept."

Lan Zhan had read the full Lord of the Rings trilogy, once, in high school, ceeding to the argument that it seemed to be a Western cultural touchstone that would elucidate the bulk of the modern Western fantasy genre. It meant that he had slightly more than no context whatsoever, which he supposed was better than nothing.

"And so last you heard, the increasing giant attacks were being kept at bay in the northwest by the mysterious sorcerers controlled by the Meishan Dynasty, nobody has heard from the northern centaurs of the Tianma Dynasty in the past two years, and as far as anyone knows, the empty streets of Nevernight City still lie undisturbed by any living thing, waiting for the rise of the next emperor to try and claim dominion over all fifteen dynasties," Nie Huaisang finished. Lan Zhan...did not know what to do, as it turned out, with that many mismatched and inexplicable references to Chinese history and mythology, mixed in with that many poorly-jumbled bits of Western fantasy and things he didn't recognize.

"So!" Nie Huaisang said. "Now that we all know what's going on in the campaign, what do you two want to play?"

Lan Zhan did not begin to know how to express just how much of an overstatement that sentence was.

"We need a healer," Jiang Cheng said flatly, fixing Jin Zixuan with a gimlet stare. "You can fill in and play healer for us, right?"

"I -- I mean, I can--" Jin Zixuan stuttered slightly, and Lan Zhan would be full of sympathy if he weren't currently hyperfocused both on the fact that Wei Ying's arm was approximately six millimeters away from his own on the table, and his creeping, gut-sinking panic over not having any idea what a "tiefling" was.

"Of course he can," Wei Ying said, grinning in a way that showed all of his teeth but did not, somehow, seem to be friendly at all. "Otherwise Huaisang will have to go easy on us to make up for us not having a healer, and we don't want to need Huaisang to go easy on us, do we?"

"No?"

"I mean, I don't know if I could go easy on you..."

Lan Zhan cleared his throat. 'Healer' at least seemed like a self-explanatory group role, surely. If he had a specific task then maybe this would start to make sense. "I could play healer."

"Lan Zhan!" Wei Ying's attention was entirely on him again. Lan Zhan had no idea why he'd invited that hell back onto himself. He was going to do it again and again. "You don't have to do that, it's your first time playing! You should get to play whatever class you want."

"I..." do not know what I want, but he couldn't say that, or want to be safe in my dorm room right now, or want you to keep looking at me like that. I want to play whatever won't make you look at me like you were looking at Jin Zixuan just now. I don't know how to pick the thing that won't disappoint you. I... "am unfamiliar with the options."

"A-Ying, you should slow down," Jiang Yanli scolded. "You remember when you were brand new. We haven't even explained what the classes are yet."

"Right!" Wei Ying said, and leaned even further into the space of Lan Zhan's body to reach for one of the colorful hardcover books in front of Nie Huaisang on the other side of the table. Lan Zhan tried not to breathe, and also not to have an aneurysm. "So okay, every character in D&D has a race and a class, and a race is what you are and a class is what you do, basically--"

"Oh, just what we said at session zero," Yanli says, brushing it off with a one-handed gesture. "I want to be a very large barbarian who's very good at chopping things in half, and never relied upon to make decisions."

"Oh that's relatable," Huaisang agrees. "Except for wanting to be good at chopping things in half part, if I ever said something like that where my da-ge could hear he'd start trying to make me go to the gym with him again, and eughhhhh." He shudders in dramatic horror, and Yanli giggles, which is perfect.

"But Yanli-jie," he whines, laying it on just a little thicker. "You know I can't make a good story out of nothing but 'tall and good at chopping things in half'. You all like it so much when I make a good story for you, but I can't do it if you don't tell me what you want! You have to give me something, Yanli-jie, please."

"You're very good at this, you know," Yanli says. "You're much better at it than me."

"Who, me?" Huaisang flutters. "No, no, no--"

"Mmm, you know, a-Cheng and a-Ying have been telling me about your games since Freshman year," she says. "All the wonderful stories you tell. I worked very, very hard when they were younger, and they're very kind and they love me very much, but a-Ying has always been cleverer than me, and a-Cheng is much more stubborn about wanting to win."

"They love your games," Huaisang protests, although he's starting to see where this is going now. "They always say so."

"Yes, they do," Yanli says. "They're very good, very kind brothers, and I worked very hard at making games for them that were good enough for them to love." She smiles at him, still very sweetly, like a sugar coating over steel. "I don't want to have to work that hard this semester, Huaisang."

"I understand completely," Huaisang says. "It can be so exhausting!"

"Always having to be nice?" Yanli confirms. She nods, very, very sweet. "I'd like to go apeshit, please."

"Good character concept!" Huaisang says, making a mental note to never, ever give Jiang Yanli a reason to dismember his body and cook him into delicious soup. "Let's make sure you get that proficiency in intimidation."

"There's about a million races now, plus the whole Tasha's custom lineage rules, which is really cool because it means you can be anything," Wei Ying grinned. "What does Lan-er-gege want to be? An angelically perfect aasimar? A beautiful immortal ageless elf?" Obviously Lan Zhan would be great at anything he wanted to play, because Lan Zhan was good at everything except maybe having fun, and obviously he was here to actually try to do that which meant that Wei Ying could help him learn, finally, so obviously he was going to be awesome. It was hard to envision him as a short beardy dwarf, though, or anything like that. Or a tiefling, really, no matter how much Lan Zhan obviously deserved that charisma bonus. Lan Zhan was too good to be a tiefling. "Ooh, maybe a pretty Persian tabaxi?"

"What do you recommend?" Jin Zixuan was asking Jiejie with way too much cow-eyed sincerity. Ugh, like he could just peacock his way into everybody's good graces by being a doormat. Wei Ying was trying to help his actual friend here.

"Oh, I like playing all sorts of things," Jiejie said, and ugh, why was she smiling at him like that??? "A-Cheng knows all of the different mechanics, you could ask him?"

Jin Zixuan looked at Jiang Cheng, and then apparently decided to be a pussy and turned back to Jiejie instead. "I could just be a human?" he suggested, and Wei Ying groaned almost as loudly as is brother.

"You're not being a human," Jiang Cheng informed him. "You've got eight other PHB races, twelve options from Volo's, four things from Eberron if you don't even count the re-statted orc, all that shit from Ravnica, the Tasha's custom rules, and bare minimum two different subraces for at least half of them. Pick something else."

"He should be a halfling," Wei Ying suggested, because bullying Jin Zixuan into being an adorable round-cheeked halfling cleric with hairy feet sounded like exactly the sort of plan he could get Jiang Cheng on board with. Plus, if Jiejie was a goliath, their characters probably couldn't hook up in-game. "Halflings make good clerics, right Jiang Cheng?"

"Hmmph," Jiang Cheng said, which probably meant he was thinking about Halfling Luck and the inability to torture the peacock over every embarrassing nat 1, which was fair. Still: tiny, chubby-cheeked halfling.

Also, they knew what Huaisang was like as a DM. He might look like a small innocent man fastidiously checking his nails while his players argued about character creation, but inside was the heart of a cold, manipulative evil genius. It was awesome. If the peacock didn't remember to invoke his halfling luck himself, Huaisang wasn't going to remind him, and Wei Ying was pretty sure they could get some more than decent mileage out of that.

"Yeah," Jiang Cheng said. "Be a halfling."

Wei Ying looked back at Lan Zhan, because forcing him to take his eyes away from that perfection in order to glare was just one more of the peacock's many crimes. Lan Zhan looked a little wide-eyed, which was saying a lot for somebody with that few facial expressions. Wei Ying bumped his shoulder against Lan Zhan's encouragingly before he remembered that, oh right, Lan Zhan still didn't like to be touched.

"Lan Zhan, don't worry," he promised. "I'll help you pick the perfect thing."

"You know, you don't have to play a halfling Life domain cleric," Huaisang offers, and Jin Zixuan winces.

"No, I...I should," he says. "I will. I want to be a good sport."

"I mean, if that's what you want to do, of course you can!" Huaisang says, although he has his doubts about Jin Zixuan managing to win over either of Yanli's brothers simply by 'being a good sport'. Ah well, so long as he keeps the game going. "You and me are really here to talk about backstory."

"Backstory?" Jin Zixuan asks, looking trapped. "I need a backstory?"

"Everyone gets a backstory!" Huaisang declares. "You can pick a background to help decide what it should be. You could be from a noble family, or an acolyte raised by a church, or--"

"I want to be a poor farmer setting out to prove myself," Jin Zixuan cuts in. "I want to seek my fortune and show that I'm capable of being a hero."

Huaisang winces, just a little. "Okay, okay, we can find a way to do that," he says. "You get skills and tool proficiencies from your background, though, and there's no poor farmer background, so we'll have to figure it out...are you sure you don't want to be an artisan? Or a fisherman? Or a rich landowner?"

"A farmer," Zixuan says definitively. "A poor lotus farmer. Someone who worked his father's lotus fields for years before setting out on his own to make his own destiny."

"Right, yes, okay," Huaisang says, thinking frantically about where on his map he could fit lotus farming. Maybe in the Sheng River floodplain? "We can work with that, we can adapt the fisherman background for foraging for water plants." It'll be fine. At least Jin Zixuan has a character concept. Huaisang can make the world work around it.

"Okay!" Huaisang says. "So that's your backstory. Do you know what god you want to follow? How did you find them?"

Zixuan looks blank. "A god?"

Oh no. "You're...a cleric?" Huaisang tries.

Zixuan fidgets. He's starting to look trapped again. "Does that...mean I need a god?"

"See, there's lots of different things you can do, and Huaisang's a pretty good DM so he'll let you do more of whatever thing you most like," a-Ying explained to his friend. Yanli and a-Cheng had heard a great deal about this Lan Zhan last spring -- a-Cheng, she suspected, even more than her, since he and a-Ying had been living together at the time and she was still out of state completing her gap year internship. A-Ying clearly hadn't noticed his brother rolling his eyes just yet, but Yanli hoped Lan Zhan didn't take offense.

At least a-Ying was distracted enough that he wasn't as focused on making poor Zixuan's session zero miserable. Yanli held back a sigh. She did want this to work, sooner or later, and once they all got to actually playing she was sure they'd all start getting along at least a little better.

She'd promised herself, though, that she wasn't going to spend the whole game managing other people's behavior. She was going to let it go.

(And maybe she didn't mind, if her brothers made Zixuan work a little harder to win their approval. Just a little. Just for a while.)

"See, I like puzzles, and talking to NPCs, and solving problems, and finding new ways to do stuff," a-Ying said, in his version of a summary. Well, how else did you briefly cover everything from 'engineering a complex chain reaction to take down a CR 15 boss with a magic item, three skill checks, and a single second-level spell' to 'doggedly chasing down one passing comment a DM had made for the sake of worldbuilding, derailing an entire plot and somehow creating a completely different one'? Yes, Nie Huaisang was a much better DM for her brothers than Yanli had ever been.

"Jiang Cheng likes Winning At D&D," and Yanli could hear the capital letters, "and jiejie likes exploring and finding cool things."

It wasn't untrue. Yanli was, perhaps, still trying to decide what she liked best. Last semester, Nie Huaisang had promised to help her try.

"I didn't know this was a game you could win," Zixuan said, and she knew it was a question because she knew Zixuan, but Yanli was also familiar enough with her brothers to realize exactly how much they would take it as a challenge. She held back another sigh.

"It's not," Yanli cut in, breaking her rules just a little. "A-Cheng's just a little competitive sometimes."

"How?" Lan Zhan asked, looking up from where he was staring intently at his still-blank character sheet, apparently to avoid looking at a-Ying at all. Oh dear. "Do you win?" he added, when nobody seemed to know how to answer his question.

"You convince Huaisang to let you do point buy for stats and then try to minmax a half-elf hexadin that can oneshot a god," a-Ying grinned.

"And now we can't do point buy any more," a-Cheng grumbled.

"Jiang Cheng, you can't do that to me again, my poor skills can't keep up!" Nie Huaisang protested. Yanli wasn't sure exactly how much of it was an act, but she'd been behind that DM screen, so she had some suspicions.

Lan Zhan looked even more lost than Zixuan -- somebody was really going to need to make sure that a-Ying's scattered, enthusiastic attempts to explain an entire manual's worth of rules in twenty minutes didn't confuse him even more, poor thing -- and a-Ying laughed.

"Jiang Cheng played himself," he agreed cheerfully. "So how are you going to win beastmaster ranger, then?"

"Variant human, dex-based ranged attacker, using beast companion alongside additional summons to grant advantage and rack up damage in melee and aid skill checks out of combat," a-Cheng rattled off promptly, because of course he could. Oh, a-Cheng. Yanli loved her silly little brothers so very much.

"Wait," Zixuan said, and oh dear, now he did look annoyed. "You said I couldn't be a human."

A-Cheng snorted. Oh no.

"Jiang Cheng has been playing since he was twelve," a-Ying cut in, expression darkening dangerously. "He knows what his other options are."

That at least cut a-Cheng's glare away from Zixuan for a moment to give his brother a withering look of I can fight my own battles, but then he swung right back, and oh dear.

"I'm playing variant human because I get +2 dex, +1 wis, and a bonus feat at first level that I can turn into a power build which'll have me regularly doing consistent damage to AC 16 to 18 targets at level one with a class and subclass that's generally considered middle of the pack at best," a-Cheng said, scathing enough to make the insult clear even if Zixuan didn't understand all the language yet. "You wanted to play a human because you think you're too good for D&D."

Zixuan bristled. A-Ying shifted. Nie Huaisang, at the head of the table, raised his hands and fluttered, trying to call back attention.

Yanli had promised herself she wasn't going to spend her gaming time managing her little brothers and her possibly maybe would-be boyfriend.

Oh dear.

"Piercer feat, obviously, I'll pick up Sharpshooter at level 4 and bump wis at 8." Jiang Cheng has a written list. Huaisang is familiar with Jiang Cheng's lists, and more than a little scared of them.

"Jiang Cheng, you know you're much better with all the mechanics than me," Huaisang flutters, about 40% flattery. He could learn all the ins and outs of every powergaming build that Jiang Cheng tried to bring to his table, but that would take so much time that he could spend drawing maps, or painting backgrounds or minis, or doing his actual homework for his scientific illustration course. It might be the only class he ever takes in his life with 'science' in the name where he gets above a C+! Surely that's more important than trying to memorize every single mechanic Jiang Cheng might try to game and abuse before he even uses it. "You know I just need to see your finished character sheet unless you want to change something from the way it was written."

"I want to reskin a background from Eberron," Jiang Cheng says, shifting gears slightly. "House Agent, it gives me two tool proficiencies, persuasion, investigation, plus I'm taking stealth, survival, perception from the ranger list and acrobatics as a variant human, so--"

"Jiang Cheng! I need to know your backstory to let you do that, you know I do," he interrupts.

Jiang Cheng always has excellent, detailed, and thought-out character backstories. Always! It's just like pulling teeth, sometimes, to get him to admit it, and Nie Huaisang really doesn't know why, he just doesn't.

(That's a lie. He's been DMing for Jiang Cheng and Wei Ying for two and a half years, and there's enough therapy involved in that job that he knows much, much more about what it was like in the Jiang household growing up than anyone who wasn't part of their family really should. But he'll never tell.)

Jiang Cheng sighs. He glares, just slightly, at the paper in his hands.

"We're definitely for sure using the Fifteen Dynasties setting from last year?" he demands. "With the same political aftermath of what we did last time?"

"I have so many maps, Jiang Cheng! You have to let me use my maps again," he says. Jiang Cheng sighs again, even more put-upon.

"I'm the eldest son of the most powerful clan of humans living in the Twilight Forest province. I was charged by my clan to go out looking for allies, weapons, or whatever power I could find. I'm going to return and help my family overthrow the wood elves of the Peng dynasty, so our clan can ascend as rulers of the Twilight Forest," he says flatly. "I have two younger sisters and an older cousin who'll probably inherit leadership of the clan if I die while I'm off adventuring. My mother is a level fifteen ranger, either beastmaster or gloomstalker, who keeps our clan's whole area of the Twilight Forest safe for humans and anything else living there." His glare sharpens again. "If you say anything about my mother..."

"You'll break my kneecaps, I know, I would never, Jiang Cheng!" Nie Huaisang is a good unofficial therapist, thank you very much. He believes in DM-player confidentiality.

"It's what makes sense for the character," Jiang Cheng says grumpily, and Nie Huaisang absolutely does not grin.

"So what do you think, Lan Zhan?" Wei Ying asked, because Jiang Cheng's brother was an absolute fucking disaster. "Did anything there sound good? Tabaxi monk? Aasimar paladin? Kalashtar? Warforged? Half-elf? Elf?"

Lan Zhan didn't have much of a facial expression. He hadn't had much of a facial expression since he walked in here, because Jiang Cheng's brother apparently had the world's most embarrassing crush on a literal block of wood, but in the guy's defense, Jiang Cheng had known Wei Ying long enough to recognize completely overwhelmed by a literal fucking hurricane of personality when he saw it.

"Elf?" he said, as much question as answer. Wei Ying latched onto it like it wasn't screamingly obvious that it was just literally the only thing on his list of insane babble that Lan Zhan recognized.

"Of course Lan-er-gege would be an elf," he said, and Jiang Cheng groaned out loud before the whole table could be treated to another five minutes on how pristine and perfect and carved out of literal fucking jade Lan-er-gege was.

"Okay, great, we've got goliath, human, halfling, elf, and whatever you're going to be," he said, moving things along. Huaisang was a perfectly competent DM, but he was way too ready to let the party wander off into inane shenanigans without reining them in. Luckily, Jiang Cheng had about fifteen years of experience with that on his side.

"Levistus tiefling," Wei Ying said promptly. "I get cool horns and cool bonus spells." Jiang Cheng was absolutely not going to acknowledge the pun. Nobody at this table, except possibly Huaisang, would know off the top of their heads that Levistus bloodline tieflings got Ray of Frost as a free cantrip at level one. Wei Ying was baiting him for attention and also probably so he could call Jiang Cheng a nerd again, and Jiang Cheng was not going to give in to it. "She's going to be super chill." Goddamnit.

"She?" Jin Zixuan asked, and great, a whole new thing to deal with. Jiejie made them promise not to start any real fights, but if the asshole started getting homophobic Jiang Cheng was going to have to punch him probably unless Wei Ying did it first, and maybe jiejie would take that as a sign that she deserved better and move on. Huh. Maybe that was something to hope for.

"Peacock, peacock, playing a girl in D&D is great," Wei Ying taunted, clearly already thinking the same thing. "You get to actually be creative playing at being something you're not, and I'm keeping the party dynamics from turning into total gross cliche since jiejie's playing a guy." He fixed Zixuan with the kind of terrifyingly dark look that Jiang Cheng really wished he'd stop giving people, except it was an effective glare so maybe not just yet. "It's fine that jiejie's playing a guy, right?"

"O--of course," Jin Zixuan stuttered. Well. Good.

"Good," Wei Ying agreed, holding that slightly serial killer stare for five more seconds before sinking back in his chair what his usual bright grin like nothing had happened. "Plus I get to be super hot and flirt with all the NPCs," he added, like he wouldn't have just done that anyway no matter what class or gender he was playing. He flirted for an entire campaign as a hobgoblin artificer with -1 charisma. "What do you say, Lan Zhan, want to play a girl with me?"

Lan Zhan flicked a glance at the rest of the table, and ugh, now Jiang Cheng was going to have to step in just so his weird brother's weird real-life flirting didn't completely derail their game before it even started. Except then Lan Zhan said, "Okay."

Fucking hell, this semester was going to be a nightmare.

"Oh you know I have so many ideas." Wei Ying grins, and Huaisang grins back because does he ever know about Wei Ying's ideas. He can't wait to hear what tops the kenku College of Spirits bard.

"Tell me about your lady," he says. "Tiefling warlock? Isn't that too basic for you?"

"Not if she's a celestial warlock," Wei Ying fires back, and okay, yes, good, this is a great start. "And here's the catch, I need you to work with me here, Huaisang, I don't want the rest of the party to know."

"But Ying-ge, aren't they going to notice?" Character-building with Wei Ying is always so fun. He has an answer to everything, and it's always so incredibly weird.

"Hey, not if you don't tell them." Wei Ying winks. "I'll goth it up, tell everyone my patron's a fiend, and fake it. You'll let me make sleight of hand checks to give them a couple of hit points when I signal at you, right? I'll even let you roll the dice so you know I'm not cheating..."

"Won't they wonder where the hit points are coming from?" Huaisang asks, and Wei Ying fixes him with an unimpressed, knowing look.

"A-Sang, are you telling me you can't let me text you under the table to give a party full of distracted PCs a couple of random bonus hit points without them noticing too much? I expected more from you."

"Okay, okay, fine, for you, I'll do it." Oh this is going to be so much fun. "But why do you want to secretly be a celestial warlock?"

"Okay, get this." Wei Ying leans forwards, one foot half tucked up under him, leaning half on the table and half on his own knee, twisted up like he doesn't even realize he's sort of a pretzel. Huaisang still doesn't know if that's the Extreme (recently self-diagnosed) ADHD or the Extreme (also recently self-diagnosed) Bisexuality, but it's always really impressive to watch. "Folk hero for a small town she can't go back to because they think she caused the thing she saved them from."

Oh, here they go. "Tiefling prejudice?"

"Yeah, yeah, tiefling prejudice, but also she's kind of a slutty goth mess," Wei Ying waves off. "So some bad thing happened, I don't know what, that's up to you, I trust you, a-Sang--" which is gratifying to hear, and Huaisang's head is already buzzing through options, "and it wasn't her fault, but she goes out to the woods or wherever and prays because she doesn't know what else to do, and there's this qilin who agrees to save the town if she agrees to go out and save other people and never go home again."

It's very cool, and very Wei Ying. It's also absolutely not the whole story. "But why can't she just admit she saved the town? I don't understand," Huaisang pushes.

"Oh, because there's like five hundred stories going around about this mythic visiting hero who rained down divine aid or vengeance or whatever on this town, and nobody would ever believe it was her," Wei Ying says, like it's obvious. "It was all some old laozu. Also probably the people from her village still think whatever bad thing was her fault and might try to kill her if they heard she was around again, especially if she was trying to take credit for saving them."

On the whole it makes no sense, of course. If a bunch of villagers heard about a traveling tiefling warlock who made a deal with a fiend, or they heard about one who'd made a deal with a qilin and went around healing people, the one they were probably going to want to chase down for vengeance was the one working for the fiend. Huaisang's pretty sure he's got it, though. It makes no sense the exact same way a lot of Wei Ying's characters' weirdly self-sacrificing internal logic makes no sense. Huaisang knows just what to do with it.

"Why this character?" Huaisang asks. "Why do you want to be a celestial warlock in the first place?"

"Huaisang, you know I think warlocks are super cool," Wei Ying says, and looks distractedly at some other cluster of students chattering on the other side of the common room, and doesn't answer the question.

"But why a celestial warlock?" Huaisang persists. He's going to need Wei Ying to say it out loud, probably, even if he does already think he might know the answer.

"It's just really nice, right? Going around to do good deeds because someone else tells you what they are, plus they're not a god and you don't have to bow down and worship them and convince other people to worship them too?" Wei Ying says, toying with the end of his shoelace. "You were willing to trade your life away because you needed power or whatever, but it turns out now your life's being run by someone who only wants to use it to do good stuff."

Fuck, Huaisang isn't getting paid enough for this. He's not getting paid at all. Who said it was his job to give his friends and players this much therapy?

Dungeons and Dragons, as far as Lan Zhan could tell, was a game about pretending to be something other than yourself.

He was not good at that, Lan Zhan would absolutely under no circumstances ever describe himself as good at that. But. Maybe, if he tried to pretend hard enough, to be somebody different enough, with rules and numbers to tell him how to do it--maybe he could pretend to be good at pretending. Just enough. Just for a little while.

"A female elf," he said, and didn't think about Wei Ying's promise -- his threat -- to flirt with everyone in the game. Playing a female character seemed safer on that front too. "I still need a class."

"We've got melee, tank, ranged, support, blaster caster, party face, stealth, and general skill check coverage for strength, dex, wis, and charisma," Jiang Cheng rattled off. "We need knowledge checks, battlefield control, and a secondary caster for when that one runs out of spell slots five times a day." That one seemed to indicate Wei Ying, but Lan Zhan didn't care to even try to guess why.

"Which means?" Lan Zhan asked, a bit more sharply than he'd meant to. Jiang Cheng was looking at him with challenge in the set of his shoulders, which were easier to look at than whatever that expression was in Wei Ying's eyes. He didn't know what battlefield control meant, but anything with control in the name sounded appealing.

"It's your first time playing," Jiang Cheng said. "Think you can handle a massive pile of spells well enough to play a wizard?"

"Um, yeah he can," Wei Ying insisted instantly, pulling Lan Zhan's attention back, as though Lan Zhan's attention had ever left. "Obviously Lan Zhan's a genius who can figure out all those lists and tables and play anything."

He was always saying things like that. Lan Zhan didn't know why.

"Don't be pushy," Jiang Yanli scolded her brothers. "Of course he can play anything."

"It's fine," said Lan Zhan, who didn't know nearly enough about the game to make a different choice anyway. That was fine. He knew how to stick to a choice, whether he'd known what it meant when he was making it or not.

"Elven wizard. Female. Battlefield control," he said. He looked at Nie Huaisang. "I trust that's acceptable?"

"I know very little about this game," Lan Zhan admits, like Huaisang couldn't have told that from the first moment he walked in for session zero. "What else is there to discuss?"

"All sorts of things!" Huaisang tells him. "We should talk about what your character can do, I can lend you books and recommend some youtube channels, but first we should decide who they are. Where did she come from? Why is she studying magic? What does she want out of life? Why is she on an adventure with these other weird people?"

Lan Zhan doesn't have a lot of facial expressions. Huaisang really hopes that the one he's wearing now doesn't actually mean, 'I will light you on fire with my mind, here, in the real world, for daring to think I would care about D&D.'

"You don't have to play, of course," Huaisang hurries to assure him. "I know Jin Zixuan asked you, and Wei Ying is sort of pushy -- but he means well! -- but if you don't want to play, it's okay. And if you ever change your mind and want to leave, that's okay too, just...text me? Send me an email?"

"I'll play," Lan Zhan says. Shit, Huaisang is going to have to get better at reading him, he can't tell at all what's going on in his head. "I don't know how to answer your questions."

"Well, let's start at the beginning," Huaisang says, trying to figure out just where the beginning even is here. "Why did you want to play a girl elf wizard?"

Lan Zhan hesitates. He's very quiet, Huaisang's noticed, when he's not making simple declarative statements or asking questions that sound like them. Hmm. Doesn't like to put himself in the position of looking like he doesn't know exactly what's going on?

"A 'girl elf wizard,'" he says, and Huaisang can hear the air quotes, even if he can't imagine Lan Zhan making the gesture in a million years, "is. Not like me." He hesitates again, and then adds, "I hear that's the point of the game."

Aw, fuck, he's shy.

Shy and scared and has absolutely no idea what he's doing. He's going to have an even harder time at this than Jin Zixuan. Also he might get even more into it than Wei Ying, once he figures out what it even is, which is going to be a whole different thing to deal with.

"Can I make a suggestion?" Nie Huaisang asks, pulling up his map of the continent. "There's a city of elves with a big school for magic, law, and philosophy, out here on the edge of the old empire, not run by any particular dynasty. Cloud Recesses. It used to be where all the legislators and court officials and lawyers and imperial scholars all got trained, it's a really easy place to learn to be a wizard, it's already full of elves, it would make sense..." He trails off under Lan Zhan's steady stare.

"A scholar at a college for legislators and politicians?" Lan Zhan asks. Right, Wei Ying had mentioned he's a polisci major.

"I know, I know it sounds like you and that's just what you said you don't want!" Huaisang hurries. "But there's a good reason, I promise!"

He waits to be given the go-ahead. Lan Zhan waits, apparently expecting him to continue. Good enough. Huaisang forges on.

"You already said it, right, a female elf wizard who's probably at least a hundred years old and can throw fire around and magically turn things into other things already isn't like you," he babbles quickly. "No matter what you do, of course it'll be different! But sometimes it's easier if you start somewhere sort of familiar, so you know how she's different already." Either he's not saying this right, or Lan Zhan understands completely and just doesn't make facial expressions. "You didn't leave school to go on a study-abroad adventure where you have to kill goblins and monsters and giant spiders, right? So that's why she's different, because she did!"

Huaisang pauses, hoping for something in return. Something to tell him whether he's on any kind of right track. Maybe he's got it completely backwards, maybe Lan Zhan needs a character who grew up raised by pirates on the south coast and learned magic in bits and pieces from scrolls she looted off of downed ships --

"Why..." Lan Zhan starts, almost quietly, then clears his throat and tries again. "Why would she leave?"

He sounds so hesitant. Oh god. Huaisang is going to have to do so much therapy in this one. His friends are so lucky that he's a nosy intrusive bitch that has fun figuring out their deepest malfunctions and coaxing them out in an RP setting. He could do so much damage with this.

"We can figure it out!" Huaisang chirps. "Maybe somebody sent her on a quest. I'm the DM, I can help you decide on that. We can figure this out." He offers what is hopefully his most winning grin. "Want to try?"

Lan Zhan takes a deep breath. Oh, this semester is going to be something. "Yes," he says. "I'd like to try."

So.

A goliath barbarian played by a girl who wants to stop feeling like she has to fix everything, who stepped in to chide or nudge or correct her brothers half a dozen times during Session Zero today before Huaisang could even open his mouth.

A halfling cleric played by a rich kid who doesn't know how to let go of his pride, who bit back awkward fumbles and defensive snapping every other time he spoke today, but wants to live out the fantasy of leaving his family entirely behind to forge out his own destiny.

A human ranger played by a business heir who also doesn't know how to let go of his pride, who's tried to build a character who's good enough to win in every game Huaisang's ever run for him, who wants to live out the fantasy of living up to his family, making them proud.

A tiefling warlock played by a genius foster kid who spent literally the entire afternoon begging for whatever positive or negative attention he could get, who wants the freedom and restriction of being forced to do good in private while everyone around him assumes he's at least slightly evil.

And an elf wizard played by a terrified shy boy with a resting bitch face that could kill a man at a dozen paces who doesn't even realize how much he wants to pretend to leave his whole life behind to do something chaotic and exciting. Probably because he hasn't played pretend since about the age of four. If then.

Huaisang sits in his room thinking about it, sketching out scenes of a secluded school in the mountains, a tiny hamlet on the edge of the rocky hills, a manor house deep amid thick woods, a farm full of flowers astride a river, a sandy fighting pit out behind a shitty tavern. He thinks, and he slides pieces together, and the shape of a campaign begins to take form.

#c writes stuff #the untamed #dnd #so much d&d #yup this is a thing now

21 notes · View notes

atsumwah · 2 years

Text

first

featuring : miya atsumu x f!reader

warnings : none!

a/n : tsumu brainrot really hitting in rn <3

atsumu was used to being second to his brother.

it was a given fact that osamu got along with people more. from a young age, osamu was the one who made friends, who didn't hurt their feelings for being too blunt, who always gets invited to parties and always gets the easy way out when they fight.

it didn't matter though. it didn't take long for him to get used to being second best next to his younger brother. he was fine with it.

although that changed when he met you.

with you, he didn't settle with being second. he won't even allow it. because how can he be second to his brother again when you already come first to him?

when he first met you, he didn't think you'd stay long in his life. he just assumed you'd leave him, that you'd chose to hang out with osamu more like everyone else.

you manage to prove him wrong. you proved him wrong so many times to the point you managed to sneak inside his heart and steal it when he wasn't aware.

he liked that you always wanted to spend time with him, even on days where you were busy. he liked that he's the one you call when you're feeling lonely in your apartment and asks him to come over. he liked that you would always grab his hand when you're outside with the rest of your friends, even though you could've picked anyone else. he liked that you're always there on the bleachers, cheering for him the loudest even when the rest had already quiet down. he liked that you'd scold him when he would overwork himself and made sure he eats every meal of the day. he liked that you'd call him for no reason just to tell him about a new show you were obsessed with.

he liked feeling that maybe he came first to you too and it was stupid to hang onto the little things you'd do with him but he can't help it—he liked it.

but he can't help but be terrified the more time he spends with you though.

because the more you did those things with him, the more he wanted to beat his brother as if it was a real competition. he saw how you treated osamu and it was different from how you treated him — but he didn't want to get ahead of himself. he didn't want to be disappointed.

he didn't want to wake up one day and find out someone he cared deeply for made him number two again.

even now, as he holds you to his chest, a movie playing in the background as he stares at your figure, he can't help but wish on every star above to be on his side. to let him have you.

"you're not paying attention."

" 'course i am."

"then tell me what happened in the last ten minutes."

you looked up to him, a cheeky smile adorned on your face that made his cheeks heat up involuntarily. he must've taken a while to answer because the next thing he knew your eyes were ready focused on the TV again.

"and I was right."

"alright, I give. I was distracted." he said, hands up in surrender.

"emma stone is on TV, how the hell are you distracted?"

"I saw something pretty." it wasn't really a lie.

"prettier than emma stone?"

"in my opinion, yes."

you turned towards him curiously. "If you say me then you’re much cheesier than I thought you were."

he eyed you from the side with a hint of a smile. “what if it is you?”

“did the miya atsumu call me pretty? oh my, I feel like I'm gonna faint!”you said dramatically, falling down on his lap laughing.

atsumu couldn't help but laugh as well, finding warmth in your presence. the feeling of you in his arms was more than enough to make his heart flutter.

"hey, samu's still single right?"

his smile dropped at your question.

your eyes were still on the screen, so you didn't notice the change in his demeanor. "tsumu? hello?"

"uh, yeah. why?"

"I'm thinking of setting up a date for him. what do you think?"

what does he think? how is he supposed to respond to the love of his life wanting to date his brother?

"I don't know," he ends up saying, "I think he's doing alright. someone has to be the sibling that stays single. he's taking it for the team."

"that's not a thing."

"of course it's a thing. he knows I get all the ladies anyways."

"uh huh. tell me then, why are you still single?"

"just haven't found the right one yet." liar.

you poked his side playfully. "whatever, I'm still setting it up." you said as you grabbed your phone from the side.

atsumu was fast to hold your wrist, phone still in hand. "don't."

you were about to roll your eyes at him before you saw how his look had changed. "what's wrong? you worried he's gonna leave you out or something?"

"or something.." he mumbled though you heard him clearly.

"if you're worried I'm gonna find him someone horrible I guarantee you that's not the case. you've met my friends before. I'm sure they could make him happy."

come again?

"here, you can be with me and pick who would suit samu best." you scooted closer to him and showed him your phone.

"you're…talking about setting him up?"

you blinked at him. "yes? did you not catch that?"

"so you don't want to date him?"

"why would I want to date him?"

"I don't know, it's samu. he can cook, he's nice, he's polite — everyone loves him."

"it sounds like you want me to date him."

"what? no! if anything I'd want you to date me—" he cut himself off immediately after the words flew out from his mouth. god he hoped you didn't catch that.

"you want me to date you?"

"I —" he felt his cheeks heating up yet again tonight, "kind of?"

"kind of? it's a yes or no question, tsum."

"well, yes then."

there was no point in denying it anyways.

he held his ground on the shared sofa, eyes trying to focus on your expression as you took his words in. he could see your eyebrows furrowing, then a smile appeared on your face before you laughed.

was this a good sign?

you scooted closer to him again, making your knees touch as you looked up to him with the softest smile he'd ever seen.

"all you had to do was ask."

a grin broke through his nervous demeanor. "really?"

"I thought you'd never get the hint." you shoved his side playfully and he grabbed your hand before you could put it away. "it was always you anyways, dummy."

"samu's great and all but you're always number one for me."

he couldn't help himself from hugging you so suddenly, arms secured around your back as he brings you to his chest.

he might be second best to everyone else— but he's number one to you and that's all that matters.

reblogs are appreciated!

#haikyuu fluff #atsumu x reader #haikyuu x reader #atsumu miya #miya atsumu #atsumu fluff #atsumu angst #hq atsumu #hq fluff #its soft hours <3 #osamu miya #miya atsumu x reader

2K notes · View notes

maseshine · 3 years

Text

Reconnecting, Mason Mount

Request: Termination Part Three, @degeathesaviour @obsesseds-world @demiadele

Warning: Some tears, comfort

Words: 992

Notes: It's about to become a series, but I'm honestly glad they're enjoying it, because I certainly am. Want the last part?

Author's Note: I know a lot of people write with the use of quotes, but I'm used to using the dash, so I hope it's not a problem.

Part One, Part Two

Sometimes you felt really sorry for not being able to say no to people. Whatever they asked you, you would accept. Disappointing people was something that made you feel bad. Incredibly bad.

So when Debbie Mount showed up at your flat and invited you - it reads almost demanding - to watch the Euro final with the whole Mount family, you had no choice but to accept.

You were still following Mason's matches, you were a loyal Chelsea fan and a patriot to the tune, so you couldn't help but watch the games. You watched the Champions Final and almost exploded with pride in the club. They deserved this victory. He deserved it.

But, you weren't expecting the message you received, you weren't expecting anything else from him. But, he did it anyway. There was never an answer back, you didn't want to get hurt or go back to creating things that didn't exist, not when you were starting to get your life back on track.

But, it seemed that fate's plans weren't those. You've always been close to the whole Mount family, so it was no surprise they all had you as a daughter, they watched you grow up. You could never deny anything to either of them, not face to face, Debbie knew that very well and used it to her advantage.

Looking out at the green lawn you wondered if it really was such a good idea to be there, you and Mason had been nothing for months, and you could even see some cell phones pointed at you when people thought you were entertained on your cell phone.

You didn't like to consider yourself a "famous", but you had a very modest base of followers on Instagram, you were a photographic model and after the breakup with Mason you started to become a digital influencer which brought in a few new followers daily. Some people recognized you for your work as well as your old relationship.

Many Mason fan pages cheered for the return of dating. You were enchanted by the affection they had for you. It was comforting not to be seen as a goldsmith. Dating Mason since the age of sixteen must have helped the trial. After all, you were with him even before he became famous.

You were pulled out of your thoughts when you heard Lewis' voice.

━ I can see the gears turning in his pretty head, Y / N / N.

━ It's because they are! I don't know if I came here, Lewis. I haven't seen your brother in months, we broke up. ━ The older one sent me a warm smile as he wrapped one of his arms around me.

━ A totally dumb decision for Mason, I might add. But, there's nothing wrong with you being here, you're family. Even if, I'm not my idiot brother's girlfriend any more.

━ Mason will love to see you here after the match, Y/N. You've always supported him, it's not fair for you not to be part of this moment, whether he wins or loses. ━ Jaz smiled.

━ I just don't want to cause problems. ━ You spoke softly.

━ You would never be a problem for us, dear.

You relaxed further when you realized that your relationship was still the same with the Mounts. They were like his second family. You didn't want to lose them.

•••

You felt your eyes sting. England had lost, Italy was the Euro champion. His eyes didn't stop following Mason for a moment, in his own eyes there were tears he wouldn't shed until he was alone. Your heart broke even more when you saw Declan state, they didn't deserve this hard blow. But, that's how football worked.

When placements were over and release of players to the family was allowed you and the Mounts patiently waited for Mason. Your nervousness starting to show, what would his reaction be when he saw you? What did that message he sent mean?

He didn't seem to notice his presence once he arrived, but when Lewis whispered something in his ear during their embrace, his head snapped up in his direction. His eyes becoming brighter when they met his. You sent him a small smile and in a matter of seconds his arms were around you.

You didn't call the cell phones pointed at you, your concentration was all on him, the tears he held back finally sliding down your face and wetting your neck where your face rested. After months, you were together again and nothing felt more right than that.

His embrace was strong, his hands began to gently stroke his hair, he was still crying, but he seemed to be calmer.

━ I'm sorry. I never wanted to let you down. Excuse. ━ His whisper was muffled, but it had many meanings.

━ I'm proud of you, Mase. You and the other kids made history. You filled us all with pride! ━ I changed the subject, this was not the time to discuss our relationship, we would have time for that. ━ Look at me.

I pulled his face slightly away from my neck, gently wiping the trail of tears from his face, never breaking our eye contact. His red eyes stared at me expectantly.

━ I'm really proud of you! ━ I stated as certainty. ━ Your gesture with that little girl was beautiful, this defeat does not define who you are, you were amazing. They only brought us pride. You gave your best and that's enough!

The grip was strong on you again.

━ I miss you. Very much. I was an idiot, I am. But, I still love you. Loving you so much. And I know we need to talk, but for now, just hold me, please. ━ Your order was so genuine.

━ Okay. I won't let you go.

You didn't know what would happen after that moment. But I was sure of one thing. The love she felt for Mason was never gone or gone, it was there, just waiting for a reconnection.

#football #chelsea fc #football imagine #footballer #london #mason mount #mason x reader #masonmountimagine #premier league #euro 2020 #england #love #masterlist #declan rice

143 notes · View notes

oyasuminto · 3 years

Note

red here with the idea i mentioned :)!! HONESTLY i might have sent an ask about this in before i genuinely can't remember. if i did i am so sorry but i love this scenario so much i will never stop thinking about it alkjfdldkjf

kylar wants to make you forget about anyone else that's ever looked at you. she wants to leave a lasting mark, to be your first and hold that eternal spot in your mind. to make you feel so good that you won't even be able to entertain the thought of fucking someone else. she's finished on her fingers to the idea of you coming undone underneath her, moaning out her name, more times than she can count.

but then you invite her to the orphanage, but then you let her *actually* push you down on to the bed. and her lack of knowledge all catches up to her in a single moment. it doesn't matter how many educational videos she's watched or the amount of articles she's read- she doesn't know what she's doing! why did she ever think she would, all of a sudden?! you're so perfect and wonderful and lovely and you're staring up at her and oh god she can't move at all. her throat closes and her hands tremble. she's going to be stuck in your mind for all the wrong reasons, the worst you've ever had, she's going to disappoint you and you'll want someone else and and and and-

you remind her of why she loves you when, instead of laughing or getting mad, you carefully reach out to place a hand on her thigh. you ask if she's alright, tell her that you can still stop if she's too nervous. you won't be upset, there's nothing wrong with that!

kylar shakes her head immediately. she doesn't want you to stop, wants to melt against you and have you touch her. she just doesn't know, isn't sure- she's never... and you give her a smile that makes her heart skip a beat. then you tell her that it's the same for you, but you can figure it out together, right?

instead of kylar filling your thoughts, she finds herself completely at your mercy. it's all soft and warm and nice. she's never felt this safe and loved, can't keep the smile off of her face. her head is all filled up with cotton and she wouldn't have it any other way. no longer is she on top of you, now you're cuddled up against each other. you keep pressing kisses to her face while your hand is in between her legs, asking her if you're doing okay and if you can do any better. even if she could speak, even if she had something to comment on, it's not like she'd ever dare say it. you're touching her!! you're saying that she's pretty and cute, that all the noises she makes are adorable, that you love her!!!(and she's ashamed to admit she teared up more than once.) kylar pushes her face into the pillow just to get you to coo at her how badly you want to see her again. the coil in her stomach grows tighter and tighter until she cums all over your fingers with a cry of your name.

in all honesty, she's so relaxed she could pass out immediately after. that simply wouldn't do, though. she couldn't live with herself if she left you unsatisfied, whether her attempt was clumsy or not. kylar kisses you and it's sloppy, drool spilling past yours lips, yet she can't find it in herself to be embarrassed anymore. her fingers still tremble as she messes with your pants. cheeks burning at the thought of her face squished between your thighs, kylar decides that maybe this is better after all. to have you slowly chip away at each other's innocence, until you're both burned into the other.

HITS FIST ON TABLE

God fuck I am gay

#Degrees of Lewdity #Kylar the Loner #NSFT #Headcanons #Other People's Writing #Bloodpenned

64 notes · View notes

bokuroo-squeals · 3 years

Text

"I love you, and you love me. Isn't that enough?"+ Best Friend's Brother with Osamu

If this does well, I might do a part 2 but I seriously don't think this is good. It's written a little to awkward for my liking.

Event masterlist here.

Stolen glances were your favorites, getting to be unapologetically in love with someone and your secret unknown to the world. In silence,you could appreciate him, the color of his eyes, the tip of his nose, how his eyes crinkled in delight when he laughed. Delicious moments where you could enjoy him.

By stolen glances was the only way in which you could reach Osamu like the idiot in love you were, because you knew that if his brother ever found out how hard your heart beats for him, not only would he be scandalized, you also believed that he would also feel betrayed. After all, Atsumu had vocalized plenty of times his disdain at the thought of you and his brother together.

You were a good friend, you really were, and while you couldn't stop from falling har for his brother- yet you admit that you loved every second of your feelings- at least you did stop yourself from acting on them, as much as it was possible. Of course you tried, though it was hard when his own brother looked at you with a glint so fond on his eyes, when his warm hands seemed to find yours with no problem when you were close, but never reaching for them, just enough to brush yours and give you a taste of what they feel like.

You continue to watch Osamu form the distance, in your seat next to his brother while the younger twin laughs at something Suna said, and his laugh could be at his friend's words, but his eyes are on you. He turns his head to the game they're playing, the sofa small with two big bodies like theirs seating in them.

"Say, Y/n" Atsumu calls for your attention, looking at the sealing deep in thoughts. "Would you be interested in me setting you up with someone"

The spit in your mouth makes you choke with his words.

How were you supposed to react to the sudden proposition, and what were you supposed to say? Should you tell him that the only guy you're interested in at the moment was his twin? The brother that he prohibited you from dating since day one?

You're eyes travel again to Osamu, who isn't looking at you, but with the way his eyebrows furrow, you are aware of him listening, and your poor heart can't handle the pressure. By the sight of it, he doesn't seem to happy about the conversation Atsumu is intending to have, and neither are you but it's not like you can't tell him that, so with a sigh, one you hope sounds tired and annoyed enough to convince him, you kindly reject the direction he wants to take.

"No, thanks" cool, calm, you remember, stay cool and calm. Yet, Atsumu can't read the room, or chooses not to do it, as always, and continues despites it.

"C'mon, you can't be single forever. I know this guy, he saw a photo of you and he's interested in meeting you" he moves to face you, a self-satisfied smile on it, as if he is about to make something incredible by setting you up– he's not, in fact, you think he's really stupid in this moment– and his brows nudged towards you like an invitation to say yes.

By now, you're too afraid to turn to steal a glance at his brother, being it for a fear of how pissed you think he might be, or because of the fear of the blond catching you, either way, your eyes stayed focused on your idiotic best friend.

"I don't care, you're lame and so must be your friend" with a hand pushing him away, you're about to end the conversation "Anyways, instead of focusing on my love life, you should start one yourself" you huffed, ending the talk.

Atsumu pouts, and while he's not pleased with your crude answer, he listens, leaving you alone. Although that doesn't mean he's dropping his irritating antics, finding another prey, his brother.

"How about you, 'Samu? There's this girl I already rejected, but I guess she'll be interested on a date with you. Obviously, I am the handsome twin, but you're not that bad yourself"

It's not your place, it really isn't, to say no, to tell your friend to fuck off and leave Osamu alone because you want to be the only one for him. But you seriously want to do it, shout that he can't set up his brother with a random girl because you feel like he already belongs to you. And you know it's selfish, that's why you stay silent, with an invisible scowl and gritted teeth and fists clenching a little too hard.

For the nth time that night, Osamu's eyes land on your figure, meeting your's in the process. The difference is, that this time, he's look is both cold and hot. Cold as if they're telling you how tired they are, and hot as if to tell you he's ready to make you step up your game, almost challenging you.

"Yeah, of course, just know that once she's met me, she'll have clear who's the better twin. Won't even remember a thing 'bout you" Osamu's smirk is teasing, and everyone could say it was towards his brothers, but you knew better. It was dedicated to you.

A pang of something hurts in your chest, maybe of jealousy, and maybe it's the pain of hearing him giving up on whatever you're supposed to have. It's wrong, you're feeling the guilt of those sensations, because you're the one that has pushed him off, denying every single advice that could have been done, and still, you want him just for you.

It isn't until hours later, when Suna has left and Atsumu has fallen asleep when you talk for the first time this day, aside from the greetings.

You stand in the kitchen, a glass of water in your hand, trying to calm how agitated your insides are. At this point, the twins have left a disaster of your mind and heart, coming like a hurricane of emotions that hits you hard enough to hurt. A part of you wants to scream, declare your undying love for him, for his deep voice and calming irises, declare that he's yours and yours only– you remind yourself that he isn't– but the other side of you is too afraid, afraid of hurting the one person that has been next to you through everything and anything, the one who has picked up the broken pieces and helped you come back as one stronger version. You don't want to hurt or hurt anyone, which it's so damn hard in your position, but you know that you'd never forgive your heart if you let down Atsumu, if you even dare to disappoint him.

Osamu's entrance pulls you out of your trance, successfully taking your attention towards him, although he appears to ignore your presence, walking past you without a word. Painful, that's too painful for you.

"Osamu…" you trailed off, trying to make you as small as you can.

"Save it. I'm not in the mood to talk to you" he's cold, and you hate it, he's never been like this to you, but you can't blame him either. While he's cold, there's just the tiniest hint of anger on his voice, making you more unsettled.

"I'm sorry! I don't want to hurt you, you know that, is just that–" he interrupts you. He's pissed, his eyes show it, his chest puffs and shoulders tense, a sight you never want to see again.

"It doesn't matter, it's not like we're anything, anyway" his words cut deep inside you, damn they do.

You wished you could unhear the pain behind what he says, but it's right there, and it shows his vulnerability.

"That's not true… you know how I feel about you"

"Then let's do something about it! I love you and you love me, isn't that enough?!" The raw emotion touches your insides in the most painful but delicious way. You want to hold him close and comfort him, yet you don't think you have the right to do it. "So what if my brother doesn't approve it?! Are we supposed to forget about how we feel? Am I supposed to ignore how much I love when our hands meet? How much do I adore the way you look at me?! Or pretend that I'm burning to kiss you?! I'm sorry, Y/n but I don't care anymore about anything Atsumu has to say at this point."

He comes your way with big steps, and you coward a little at the sudden movement, and then he kisses you. A kiss is full of irritation, annoyance, love, care, all the bottled up feelings showing in a kiss that says more than words.

"I'm not hiding up how I feel anymore, so this is me officially asking you to be mine. You can reject me and we'll forget this happened, or you can accept and we'll face Atsumu, together".

Your answer is obvious, coming in the form of another kiss, one that's more tender, sweet and short.

#haikyuu x reader #haikyuu imagines #haikyuu #haikyuu osamu #osamu x reader #osamu imagine #osamu angst #osamu fluff #miya osamu #miya osamu x reader

178 notes · View notes

charliedawn · 3 years

Text

Imagine having ran away from the Elven kingdom while being betrothed to Thranduil and returning

" Where is lady Thranduil ?! I must speak with her this instant !"

You shout while making your way to the throne room where you were sure to find Thranduil.

" Oh no..She's back.."

Thranduil pales perceptibly and even shivers at the loud voice, knowing only one fool daring to address him this way.

" Who is it, sir ?!"

One of the counsellors asks while Thranduil closes his eyes and takes a big breath of air before responding with visible disdain.

" The most annoying arrogant little vermin to ever walk this earth.."

Suddenly, the door of the throne room is kicked open and you walk in with a big bright smile.

" Hello, your majesty ! Remember me ?! How is that scar of yours ?! Still healing ?!"

He sighs loudly before ordering the other people present to leave with a slight nod of his head. When everyone is gone, he turns towards you with a fake smile.

" Lady Y/N.. What an unpleasant surprise..!How could I ever forget you ? If I remember correctly, I swore to kill you myself if you ever dared to show your face again ?"

You ignore his barely hidden threat with a dismissive wave of your hand.

" Bah ! Still mad ?! Me who thought you elves were all about forgiveness ?! And, if I remember correctly, I told you that I wouldn't come back to your lovely spooky forest unless death was upon me !"

He nods and smirks before crossing his arms over his chest.

" Well..At least you don't have a problem of memory. You look well enough..How about you see yourself out ?"

You bite your lower lip hesitantly, when he walks past you in order to leave, before turning around and shouting.

" Thranduil ! I'm dying !"

He stops dead in his tracks and turns towards you slowly with a frown.

" What did you say ?"

You sigh before looking up at him with begging eyes.

" I'm..I'm dying, Thranduil..I have been cursed by a very powerful mage. I only have a short time left and I wanted to make amends before I leave..So, please, hear me out.."

He doesn't answer and you take that as an invitation to keep talking.

" I wanted to apologize. All those years ago, I wounded you. But, you have to understand why ?! We were betrothed, while you had just lost your wife..I knew that it was unfair of my family to force an alliance so soon. I wanted to get away, and I knew that they wouldn't let me leave unless I escaped. I didn't think that you would be the one trying to stop me..I didn't know because it was dark and I thought it was a soldier that would get me back if I didn't fight back ! I couldn't have known that it was you ! I wouldn't have fought you."

He sighs before asking you.

" How long ?"

You frown before replying, visibly annoyed.

" Did you hear a word of what I just said ?! Can't you just forgive me so I can finally have peace ?!"

He turns around and walks towards you at lightning speed before yelling.

" No ! I can't ! Now, tell me, how long ?!"

You are startled by his sudden outburst and quickly answer.

" 5 days ! I've got 5 days.."

He visibly clenches his jaw and asks surprisingly calmly.

" Where ? Where did he curse you ?"

When you don't answer, he grabs your wrist and you cry out in pain. He frowns before tearing your sleeve in half and looking at the rotten skin there. He softly touches it with the tip of his fingers and you whimper. He looks up at you with a worried glance before leading you to his throne. He gets out a big book that seems to be as old as the forest itself from underneath the throne and starts flicking through the pages in search for something that could help you.

" Who was that great mage of yours ?"

You hesitate before finally admitting.

" Saruman. I tried to steal something from him.."

Thranduil suddenly looks up at you with a raised eyebrow, urging you to continue with his eyes.

" I..This is why I am here, Thranduil.."

You get out some kind of little blue fial and he rises up from his throne to look at it more closely, tilting his head slightly to observe it with more attention.

" What is it ?"

He finally asks while continuing observing it with attention, tilting his head slightly to the other side. You sigh before admitting.

" A potion of resurrection. He had it in his tour and wanted to use it to resurrect someone..I don't know who. But, when I heard that he had this kind of potion, I sneaked inside his home and stole it. But, before I could get out of there safely, he woke up and cursed me.."

Thranduil growls in annoyance at the lack of results from his search inside the book and also, at your foolishness.

" You fool ! He could have killed you ! Why would you go do something so stupid and reckless ?!"

He asks, visibly upset, and you can only shrug with a sad smile.

" Maybe because I wanted to give you a chance to be happy again ?"

He frowns in incomprehension until you explain.

" It was for your wife. It was for Evranï."

His eyes widen in shock at her name and his eyes keep going back and forth from the small vial to your face, trying to see if you were telling the truth.

" Y/N..Why ? Why do this for me ? Why risk your life for someone that you don't even know..?"

You smile pitifully at him before replying with tears forming at the corner of your eyes.

" Because that's what you do when you're in love, right ? You do everything in your power to make them happy..You may have not known until today but, I fell in love with you, Thranduil..I fell in love with you the moment I first set eyes on you during my first visit to your castle. You may not share my feelings, but it doesn't mean I have to forget about them, right ?"

He was about to answer when you start coughing loudly and cover your mouth with your hand. You then notice the blood and Thranduil seems to notice too since he is standing next to you in a matter of seconds. You fall to your knees and Thranduil is there to catch you.

" Y/N ! You told me 5 days, Y/N ! What's going on ?!"

You smile sadly before confessing.

" I may have lied a little..Saruman told me that I had 5 days to return his vial..four days ago.."

You had never seen the king cry before, it was so hard to imagine his perfect face stained by such vain things as tears..and yet, here he was, crying his eyes out over you. You stroke his cheek lovingly before forcing yourself to smile reassuringly at him.

" Don't cry, my king..This is a happy moment. I finally got the chance to help you and you will soon be able to see your beloved wife again..So, smile for me, okay ?"

You feel the intense pain gaining your heart and tighten your grip on the king's arm unconsciously. He notices and puts his own hand on yours.

" You silly woman..I won't let you die. You still have so much to do, and much more to make amends for, before I can forgive you.."

He softly says and you shake your head, the words feeling like fire every time you utter them.

" Please..Forgive me, my king..I know that I've disappointed you greatly, but please, forgive me so I can leave this world in peace..You can see it as a final act of mercy for a repentent soul ? I give you my life for your wife's..A soul for a soul..I only ask for forgiveness in return.."

You implore him and he looks at the vial that you place in his hand. He then glances back at you with a sad smile, cradling your face and kissing your forehead lovingly.

" I can't forgive you, because there is nothing to forgive..You were afraid and needed someone to believe in you. I’ve let fear and sorrow blind me from my duties towards you. Letting you think that your life had any less value than the one of my deceased wife was my mistake. I should be the one begging for forgiveness, not you. This is why, I can't accept your gift.."

He approaches the vial to your lips and you open your eyes wide at his intent. You close your lips tightly, knowing that if you were to drink it, the queen would never be reborn. He grits his teeths before grabbing your face and pressing his fingers against your cheeks, trying to make you open your mouth, unsuccessfully.

“ I refuse to let you die, Y/N ! Now, drink, you stubborn woman !”

He shouts, but you shake your head and wiggle too much for him to be able to force you to drink the potion with the vial. He finally sighs in, what you thought was, defeat before looking up at the ceiling and whispering.

“ I’m sorry my beloved, but I can't let an innocent girl be the price of my selfishness.”

You frown in incomprehension until you see him drink the potion before pouring it down your throat. You try to push him away, but his lips are sealed to yours and he doesn’t step back until you’ve swallowed every last drop of the potion. Then, and only then, does he step back to look at your arm, making sure that the healing process had begun. He smiles satisfactorily at the skin taking back its original condition.

“ You see ? In a couple of days you’ll be on your feet again.”

He says, but you don't answer and she he looks back at you, he sees that you've blacked out. He smiles before kissing your forehead again.

" Sleep well, my little spitfire."

A couple of days later :

As soon as you are awake, you storm inside the throne room with only one person in mind : Thranduil. When he sees you arrive, he smiles, but unlike his previous thoughts on your reaction when you would eventually wake up, he finds you angry and with tears in your eyes. Before anyone could stop you, you walk towards the king with determination and slap him across the face so hard that the sound resonates around the throne room. His surprise turns into anger and he was about to yell at you for your behavior when he sees that you are crying.

" Why did you do that ?! You kingdom needs a queen !”

He suddenly understands what you are so upset about and before he could answer, you crumble at his feet. You grip the bottom part of his robe and starts sobbing, hiding your face in the piece of cloth. He sighs before forcing you to look at him, grabbing your chin between his thumb and forefinger to look deeply into your teary eyes.

“ You made a mistake.”

You suddenly stand up and yell, obviously offended.

“ Who said it was a mistake ?! I gave you what you always wanted !”

He frowns before standing up as well and glaring back at you.

“ I do say it is a mistake because you made a reckless decision that could have led you to your death ! Your life belongs to me! Don't you dare forget again ! You'll die when I see fit ! You really thought that coming in here and dying on my floor would make me happy ?!"

You open your eyes wide and hold back the tears that were threatening to come back. He regrets his sudden outburst nearly instantly and straightens up to add.

" But, as a queen, you are to learn from your mistakes and make good use of them.."

You grit your teeths before replying confidently.

" I am no queen ! I am a warrior ! I have spilt blood and done things..things that would only bring you down with me. Why want me as a queen ?”

He sighs before turning towards you with a sad smile.

" What makes a queen ? A queen learns to survive, and even if her hands are red with the blood of her enemies, her heart will always be pure, for it beats for her people. A queen can have moments of weaknesses, as any other creature on earth, but she learns from her mistakes. As I have learned from mine. Don't you think I already thought about running away ? Leaving my duties, my son and my kingdom behind ?"

You frown before asking.

" Then why didn't you ?"

His eyes turn grey for a moment and he looks at his thrown before answering truthfully.

" I admit that I was upset at first when my advisors urged me to find a new wife, casting aside the memory of my sweet Evranï. But, having no choice, I had to make a decision. I traveled to every land in order to find that being that would be able to take my love's place on the throne by my side..When I thought that all hope was lost and that I would never find such a person, I found you. I saw you near the weeping willow, as still as a statue and listening to the wind with your eyes closed. I found myself wondering what you were waiting for and sat on the ground until the sun disappeared behind the hills, only then did you move and, to my astonishment, you started dancing with a sword in your hand. Your gestures were so precise and calculated, as if you could slash the wind itself in two. Only a few days later did I finally get an explanation to your particularly odd behavior from one of the villagers, you were training to slay a monster that was killing villagers in your land that nobody had ever seen, but that those who had survived described as fast as the wind. I wanted to laugh at the ridiculous theory, but couldn't bring myself to and decided to wait to see if you would succeed, certain that nobody could slay such a beast. But then, one day, you came in the inn where I was staying with a large victorious smile, covered in blood and carrying the body of the beast on your back that had a wide range of pointy teeths and a very distinctive fur color, one that I had never seen before..Blue with yellow stripes. I remember feeling a sudden wave of pride and respect towards you. Such dedication, patience and strength are what I always thought made a queen. That day, I knew that you would be the only one I would ever accept to rule side by side with.."

You open your eyes wide at the revelation before remembering that there was no weeping willow near the castle and this is when you recall your childhood weeping willow, the one that you used to come to think and imagine what the world would be like outside of your little town. You look up at Thranduil with wide eyes full of admiration, realizing that he had always been one step ahead of you, already knowing you before you even set foot into his kingdom. Thranduil only chuckles at your startled expression.

“ You didn't think I would let some random stranger choose the woman I would be spending the rest of my life with, did you ? Who do you think invited you to the castle in the first place ? You may have chosen me, but I chose you first, my queen..”

He suddenly kneels on one knee in front of you and you blush vividly before hitting his shoulder.

" Get up ! You could have told me ! I thought that you didn't even know my name until I escaped !"

He chuckles again before getting up and leaning in so close that you could stare deep into his beautiful blue eyes. He then proceeds to whisper in the shell of your ear.

" Do not misunderstand. Try to escape again ? And I'll break your legs. Understood, my dear ?"

You shiver at his threat and nod vividly, gulping loudly at his sudden change of demeanor. He smirks at you, satisfied with your answer, before walking towards the exit with the same usual elegance that all elves seem to possess. It takes you a while to react and when you do, you turn around to yell.

" Hey ! Come back here, you tall drama queen wannabe ! I'm not finished with you yet !"

He only laughs before replying with a sing-song voice.

" Welcome home, my queen !"

You huff in annoyance, but can't help smiling at the end. King Thranduil wasn't an easy elf..But, you wouldn't have him any other way. He made you keep going and even if he was harsh in his lessons, you knew that the harsh truth was always better than sugar-coated lies. During your many travels, you had met many different people in many different lands, but none ever compared to the elf king who could be as cold as ice, but also as hot as the sun that shined high in the sky. He always was one step ahead from everyone and even if you were to rule by his side until the end of your life, you would surely never succeed in understanding him.

He suddenly stops in the corridor and turns towards you with a knowing smile.

" Well ? Aren't you coming ?"

You smile and nod before running towards him.

" Thranduil ?"

You would later ask.

" Yes, my queen ?"

He answers before looking down at you while you smile devilishly at him.

" Since I am to become queen, does that mean that I can call you lady Thranduil all I want now ?"

He sighs exasperatedly before rolling his eyes playfully.

" I would rather not, especially in front of my advisors or subjects..but when have you ever taken my opinion into account ?"

You laugh happily before closing your fingers on his hand.

" Who knows ? Maybe I was following your plans from the beginning ?"

He chuckles before smiling mysteriously at you.

" And how did you come to this fascinating conclusion ?"

You look back up at him before replying.

" I just remembered that I was wearing the fur of the beast the night that I escaped..As you said it yourself, of a very "distinctive color", one that nobody could have mistaken.."

He understands and grins at you.

" Looks like I've been exposed..Well played."

You smile widely before winking cheekily at him.

" A queen knows how to learn from her mistakes.."

#thranduil #lotr fandom #lotr movies #thranduil x y/n #thranduil x reader

175 notes · View notes