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sixpossumsinatrenchcoat · 2 months

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Natural Satellite [ch 5]

An In Stars and Time AU. In ch 5, Isa & Sif finally put their heads together. You can start from ch 1 here!

Isa’s grip tightens on your shoulder and your mind goes utterly blank. You can feel his—his thumb, just the edge of his thumb brush your collarbone and all you can think is that you want to feel it on your skin because you know, you just know he’d feel so warm. You’re shaking. You want to pull him closer. You have to push him away. If you push him away it will kill you. Why is he touching you, how do you make him stop, how do you make him do it again. How do you make sure he never ever stops. You could cut off his hand. You could cut off his hand and keep it with you, always, always. You could freeze him in time. You could eat him alive. (You’re disgusting.)

[ISAT spoilers thru act 4! CW for panic attacks]

“An article about the King?” Isabeau echoes. “Like… from a newspaper?”

You nod.

“You mean like the one on the first floor?”

“The what?”

He blinks at you. “Umm… on the wall, right? I think it was in someone’s dorm room… I can’t remember exactly where, but—”

“The candle maker?”

“Huh? No, I don’t think—”

“The one with those weird drawings?”

“Oh! Yeah! I think that was it!”

“On the wall?”

“Yyyyes?”

“Like a poster??”

“I mean… yes? I guess so, yeah.”

You throw your hands up. “Who puts up wall art of their impending doom???”

“Pfft,” Isabeau snickers. “The Housemaidens of Dormont, I guess?”

Wow. Wow. That is… You don’t even know where to begin. You just spent the better part of twenty loops scraping the entire House top-to-bottom. Every bookshelf and every barrel; every secret passage and every stupid, pointless dead end. And now you’re supposed to believe that the article was on the first floor? In plain sight?

“...Sif?”

“No,” you hiss, and then snap to attention. “Sorry. I mean, yes? I mean. What?”

“That was your main goal right now, right?”

You nod.

Isa’s eyes sparkle. “So… maybe I saved you a little time?”

“...Maybe.”

“Enough to earn me a favor???”

“Depends,” you tell him, grudging. “What do you want?”

“Can I have today?”

You squint at him.

“Um!! I just mean!! At the House tomorrow, you can do everything how you’re used to, and I won’t even get in the way. Honest. But can I pick what we do today? Can I just, like… book you? For the day? So we can maybe actually talk?”

Hrmph. You can’t understand why he’d want to, but. Well. It’s not like you have other plans. Killing the King is easy now. You still try to help Mira, most loops—her shield really is very useful—but it’s a convenience, not a necessity. “…Fine.”

Isa lights up. “Really???”

Do you need me to write it down for you? You bite it back. By now, Isabeau should already know that you’re poison. There’s no need to beat a dead horse. “Sure.”

“Yeah!! Yes!! Okay!! Thanks, Sif!! I just have a few questions! So just, um, bear with me, okay?”

* * *

Isabeau gets right to the point.

“So… Loop. Any theories?”

You think about it. “I asked who they were once.”

He looks up with interest. “And?”

“They told me to guess.”

“Figures,” he sighs, going back to his notes. “What’d you guess?”

“I thought they were probably me.”

His writing hand lurches, gouging an ugly black streak across the page. “Um??? Um… what made you say that??”

“They know a lot about me,” you say, evasive. It’s true, but it’s not the whole truth. In all honesty, you don’t really know why you said it. It’s hard to put into words. Though, to be fair, you feel that way about most things.

“Um. Um, well… I mean… What’d they say?

“They laughed at me for like, ten minutes.”

“...Right,” he mumbles. “Um. Okay. I’m just gonna mark that down as inconclusive.” He makes a few notes, his tongue trapped between his teeth, before looking up again. “What about the King? I can’t remember what you guys talked about, what with… um. Y-You know. What happened after. But he sorta seemed like he… recognized you?”

You shrug. You haven’t figured that out yet, either.

“He had white hair, too,” Isa muses. “I’ve never seen anyone else with hair like that.”

“So, what? You think he’s my long-lost brother?”

“Wh—No!! I just meant you might be from the same region or something!!” He pauses, looking surprised. “Actually, Sif, I just realized… I don’t think I know where you’re from!”

You nod. That’s true, yes.

“So… where are you from?”

“Oh, um…” You trail off. Isabeau is looking at you, expectant. Like he’s waiting for something. Did you zone out without noticing? It wouldn’t be the first time. But you can’t remember your next line. “I— Sorry, what were we talking about?”

“...Where you’re from?”

“R-Right. Sorry. It’s, um. I’m—“ Your mind stalls out. What did he ask, again? Was it maybe a yes or no question? “Um… Yes?”

“What?”

Isa looks concerned, for some reason. Not that he needs a reason. You’re concerning company. “Sif, are you— Can you hear me right now?”

“Huh? Yeah, of course. I lost my eye, not my ears.” Too late, you remember that it grosses people out when you talk about your eye. But you already did it, so you might as well finish the job. “‘Eye’ can hear just fine.”

“Ri-i-ight,” he says slowly. “Um. You’re not, like, messing with me, right?”

“Huh?”

“Yeah, I really didn’t think so. Okay, lemme try this.” He scribbles something down in his notebook and hands it to you. It’s a question. Hi Sif :3 Where are you from?

Oh. Weird. He just asked you that, didn’t he? And you said—you said— What did you say, again?

Of course you know where you’re from. You haven’t been traveling forever. Everyone’s from somewhere. And you—you grew up with your—with your… family, right? Of course you have a family, everyone has a family, so why can’t you—

Why can’t you remember?

You can feel your breaths coming faster, the words blurring on the page but you can still read the question and he’s still waiting for an answer; you have to say something. You know where you’re from! You forget a lot of things but you couldn’t, you wouldn’t, how could you forget your own family? What kind of a monster could forget their own family? So why can’t you— Why can’t you—

“Sif! Sif! Hey! Hey, Sif, come on, can you breathe for me? Can you try to breathe with me?”

But you can’t. You can’t. Your hair is white like the King’s and your parents, your parents must have, they must have had white hair like yours, but were they— Were they short, like you are? Were they stupid and clumsy and quick? Did they— They had a boat, didn’t they? Didn’t you have a boat? Did you even have a boat or did you only dream you had a boat because you, you can’t picture it, one sail or two, its shape, its color and what was its name? You bury your hands in your hair, white like the King’s, like your—

“Sif!” Isa says, frantic, and you realize that he’s reaching for you.

“Don’t touch me!!!” You slap his hand away, flinch out of range. He’s not supposed to touch you, no one is supposed to touch you, there’s something WRONG with you and what if it’s contagious? You’re— You can’t let him get any closer, can’t let him find out that you CAN’T REMEMBER THE NAME OF YOUR HOME, YOUR PARENTS’ FACES, YOU CAN’T LET HIM KNOW THAT YOU—

[ f e e l a t u g a t y o u r s t o m a c h ]

—and you’re lying in a field.

Isa stands over you, looking a little nauseous and more than a little frantic. “S-Sif!! Crab, Sif, are you okay?”

“I… What? Yes? What just…”

“It’s okay!!” he says quickly. “It’s okay, it’s okay, don’t worry! You just… I think you h-had a sort of a p-panic attack and you… We looped again. It’s okay, you’re okay, you’re totally fine. We’re just talking. We were just, um, talking about the King.”

You stare at him for a few seconds. “...You found that article.”

“Right!! That’s right! Yeah, you got it! I—” When he looks at his notes, his shoulders slump a little. “Aw, crab. Looping wiped my notes.”

Well. Obviously.

He darts another nervous little glance at you, like he’s afraid of what you’ll do. Like he thinks you’re dangerous. (He’s not wrong. You are dangerous.) “So, it… seems like it happens when you get upset, huh? When you’re overwhelmed or, um. Freaked out.”

You shrug.

“Does that track with the times it’s happened before? When you looped without dying, I mean. Y-You don’t have to tell me what happened!” he adds hastily, when he sees the look on your face. “I’m not asking for details! Just for you to think about it, and… think about if you were usually upset?”

Reluctantly, and very much under duress, you reflect on the times you looped on accident. Just now, having a—what did he call it? A panic attack. That time you scared your family, near the entrance to the House. Watching Isa freeze.

(You do not think about what you did in front of the Favor Tree.)

“...Maybe,” you concede.

“Okay!! Hey, that’s good, right? We just gotta figure out how to do that, and we can totally skip all the, you know. Um. Dying.”

You’re not convinced. Your current system works. And having to get upset every loop… Honestly, it sounds even worse than the dagger.

“Hmmm,” Isa hums, chewing on the end of his pen. “I could… try to scare you?”

You stare at him.

“H-Hey!! I could be scary!!”

You don’t bother arguing. “It wouldn’t work, anyway. I was scared the first time we fought the King.” You give it a little more thought. “I was really scared the second time.”

That makes him wince, for some reason.

“It doesn't scare me anymore,” you reassure him. “Not for ages.”

That does not appear to help.

Isa darts another glance at you. He’s fidgeting more than usual, shifting his weight and picking at his fingernails. “Um. Okay, I— I sort of have an idea, but only if it’s okay with you…”

…Interesting.

“And I— I just wanna say in advance that I'm really sorry about this, it’s just—I think watching you die kinda messed me up a little, haha, s-so if there’s, like, even the tiniest chance that we can find another way, I think we actually really have to—“

“Isa.”

“S-Sif??”

“It's fine.” Whatever he has in mind, it can’t be worse than what you’ve already done. When that doesn’t seem to reassure him, you raise an eyebrow. “We said you could have today.”

“Right. Right!! Okay!! Then I'm just gonna—um—try this. If that’s okay. (Sorry.)”

Isabeau clenches his fists and draws a deep breath, like he's steeling himself for something dreadful. Then he takes two slow, sliding steps and suddenly he’s a lot closer. Closer than in bed in the Clocktower, closer than the greenhouse, (almost as close as when you—)

He’s looming over you, almost. Enough to fill your field of vision. His face is flushed and he’s staring fixedly at the ground to your left, but his eyes keep darting back toward you, like he can’t stop them. Like he can’t help himself.

“S-Sorry,” he mumbles, looking away again, and reaches for you.

You wait for him to pull away but he—doesn’t. He doesn’t. He doesn’t thump you on the arm, like he always looked like he was going to. He just… grazes your shoulder, the barest touch with only the tips of two fingers.

Your breath snags. Your heart is in your throat because he—he isn’t supposed to do that here, or anywhere, ever. He doesn’t touch you, he doesn’t want to touch you so why is he— WHY would he—

You could cut off his hand. You could cut off his hand and keep it with you, always, always. You could freeze him in time. You could eat him alive.

(You’re disgusting.)

He’s so beautiful. You’re a monster. He’s not even a person, he’s only an actor, he’s playing a role. But this wasn’t in the script. You can see the flush creep down his throat and you want to trap it in your hands. Catch his pulse between your fingers like a firefly. Drink the heat from his lungs and seal it in a jar where you can’t ever forget. Really take his breath away, ha ha ha.

…You’re disgusting.

He has to force himself to look at you. You can see that it takes effort (but of course it does, you’re DISGUSTING) and when he finally meets your eye you can feel his hand trembling a little, even through your cloak. Just for a second, your self-control slips. Just for a second, you lean into his hand, his touch, his warmth.

You have no idea what your face looks like, but it must be pretty appalling. Whatever he sees in your eyes seems to terrify him. He jolts back, electrified, and you—sag, like someone cut your strings. You’re exhausted.

“Sorrysorrysorry!!!” he babbles, holding both hands out like a shield. “Sorry! Wow! Sorry!! Crab!!!! I really thought you were gonna loop!!!”

Oh. Of course. That’s why he touched you. For his theories. His little experiment. You said that he could have today.

Isabeau wrings his hands. “I-I’m really sorry, Sif, I know you don’t like being touched, I just thought if it worked, you might… hate it less than being stabbed, I guess? But you were totally right, I don’t know what I’m doing, I just thought— I don’t know!!! I just really thought that would work!!!”

You reach for your shoulder, for the place where he touched. You know it's stupid, but it feels warmer than it should. His heat signature, stamped onto your skin. “Why.”

“U-Um? Just because… you know, the whole thing about getting upset, and… Aww, never mind! It was stupid! Sorry!!!” He shakes his head vigorously, jumping in place a little. “Phew! Um! That’s… probably enough for today, haha! I’m sure you need a break!”

Maybe you just didn’t touch me enough, you think. Maybe you needed to hold my hands. Hold me close. Hold me down and break me in half. Tear me apart. Swallow my heart. Hold my face in your hands and lean in so, so close. Hold my heart in your hands and squeeze.

You don’t say anything.

Isa’s gaze drops to his hands. He runs his thumb over the pads of his fingers, gently, gently. Maybe you would loop if he did that to you. But you don’t know.

“...I really am sorry,” he says softly.

Don’t be. “It’s okay.”

“If you ask, I can— I’ll never do it again, if that’s what you want.”

Your chest seizes up. “No.”

He looks up, startled.

(Calm down. You’re scaring him.) “I—wouldn’t mind. If we tried again.” (Stop. You’re taking advantage of him. You’re holding yourself hostage. Can’t you see how gross that is?) “It could be—um. I think it would be better than the dagger.”

“Pfft,” Isabeau snickers. “Careful. I might get an ego.”

“Huh?”

“It’s nothing.” He glances at his notebook, heaves a sigh. “I guess as long as you don’t do it with the knife…”

You frown at him. “You said I could have tomorrow.”

“I-I’m not telling you not to loop!! I am literally just asking you not to do it in the most horrible way possible!!!!”

Ughhhh. “Okay, but that means we’ll have to finish off the King…”

“Uhh,” he says. “...Uh huh?”

“It takes a really long time.”

“Pfft,” Isa snorts. “Yeah, I think I can handle it. Still sounds a lot better than watching one of my favorite people die.”

“I’m—” You bite off the rest of that question. He isn’t talking about you. He's talking about your character. “Um. I mean. If you get a request for my day, then I get to ask something too.”

“You got it!! Anything!! W-Well, maybe not anything, but… pretty much basically anything. As long as it doesn’t… um. Hurt you.”

Ha ha. What a nice idea. But that doesn’t leave a lot of options. Everything hurts you.

“Soooo, what did you wanna do?” he asks cheerfully, and then hesitates. “Oh. Unless you meant that you, um, wanted some time alone, or… you wanted to make plans with someone else…”

Look at the stars with me. You almost say it.

You choose your words carefully. “I want… rest.”

His face crumples into something painfully fond. “Aw, bud. You’ve been doing this for way too long, huh?”

Finally, an easy question. You nod vigorously.

“Poor Sif,” Isa says softly. “And all on your own.”

“We sleep in the same bed.” It’s an evasion. An obvious one, at that. You’re pretty sure you used to be better at this. (‘Bed-ter.’ Is that anything?)

“That’s not what I mean, though.”

…Yeah.

His arms twitch toward you before falling back by his sides. You watch his hands flex and unflex. You think about reaching for them. Maybe this time he would let you.

You don’t move.

Isa tilts his head, curious. “What would you normally do today? If I didn’t call dibs?”

Teach Bonnie to fight. Find Odile’s book. Help Mira with her papers. Look at the stars. Eat dinner. Go to bed. Fight. Book. Papers. Stars. Dinner. Bed. “...Run around after everyone else, mostly.”

“Aw, Sif.”

“And go fishing.”

“Oh!!” he gasps, brightening. “You fish?”

“I—used to. I think.”

His eyebrows twitch, but he doesn’t press you. “Do you really have to do all that stuff every time, though? Of course you gotta eat, but you could nap until then!”

“Mira always wakes me up.” Also, you don’t sleep.

Isa thumps a fist into his palm and squints menacingly. “Well, she’s gonna have to go through me.”

You can’t help it. You snicker. It comes as an almost violent shock. When’s the last time anything actually made you laugh? “She could do it, though.”

“Oh, yeah. She wouldn’t hesitate.”

“No mercy.”

“But I’m tough too!!” he insists. “I can take her!!!”

You huff another laugh. Two in one day. A new record. “…I can’t ask you to do that.”

“Well, I’ve got bad news, Sif,” he says seriously. “Today’s my day. I get to do what I want. And I wanna guard your nap! Nap guardian!! Protector of sleepyheads all across Vaugarde!!!”

Pffft. “There’s no way you want to do that.”

“I do!!”

“There’s no way I can let you do that.”

“You’re gonna have to!!”

You should stop him. Laugh and say you changed your mind. But you can’t. You’re selfish like that. "Well... I guess it does sound bed-ter than sleeping alone..."

"Pffft!! Sif!!!!"

“And I could definitely use a few winks.” You can’t resist winking cutely. It’s kind of your signature.

“Hah!!!!”

“So I guess I could pill-ow you to help.” Oof. That was bad, wasn’t it? “Um. You know. Like, ‘allow?’”

“Hey, you don’t gotta tell me!! And c’mon, Sif, you know I just wanna help! After everything you’ve done for us, it’s the sleep-st I can do!!”

Pfft!!! Oh, wow. Okay. Yeah. He got you. “Snrrrk—khhehehe! Hee hee hee!!”

When you look up, Isabeau is beaming at you with eyes so bright they hurt to look at. Your chest clenches. Your stomach swoops. You look away. “S-Sorry.”

“Please don’t be,” he says, painfully earnest. “I’m… It makes me really happy to… Aw, don’t worry about it. Get some rest. I’ll wake you up in time for dinner, okay?”

“You really don’t have to…”

“My day!!” Isa says fiercely. “I do what I want!!!”

You want to argue. You know that you should. But you're so, so, so so so so tired. At the end of the day, you just don’t have it in you.

I usually get around to posting on tumblr eventually, but if you wanna find out about updates as soon as I post em, you can follow the series on AO3: https://archiveofourown.org/works/53412649/chapters/135189547

#isat fanfic #in stars and time #isat au #isa loops au #isat isabeau #isat siffrin #isafrin

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secretswiftymarvelfan · 1 year

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Memory Served - Ransom Drysdale (Part 4 - Final Part)

Series summary: Following a terrible accident, every memory you ever made was gone leaving you to try to piece together what happened.

Word Count: 4.7k

Warnings: to avoid spoilers I won't be tagging warnings, but if you are concerned about being triggered by anything PLEASE reach out to me so I can put your mind at ease! This is an 18+ ONLY series!

A/N: this is a mystery series, so please when you comment or reblog please put spoilers under the cut using the read more function! This also means I won't be responding to comments straight away!

Masterlist / Series Masterlist

Dividers by @firefly-graphics

The week leading up to your wedding had been stressful, to say the least. Everything seemed to run at a million miles per hour and you were only just keeping your head above water. You wanted to just call the whole thing off so you could get a chance to breathe but you knew you couldn’t. You had to go through with this, for Harlan, for Ransom.

The stress was clearly getting to Ransom too, he was becoming more erratic, and he was always pacing and muttering under his breath. His temper had been much shorter too, sometimes lashing out. He’d always make sure to make up for it though, showering you with love and affection.

You always forgave him, even if you didn't really want to. He was stressed, you were stressed, it was only natural that you would argue. You had learnt not to bring certain things up though, like your memory.

You had questioned him about who Andy was, you assumed it was someone you knew before you’d met Ransom. But Ransom explains how it was actually a nickname for him. You had gotten drunk one night and called him Randy, and it stuck, your friends even called him it and you must have just misheard it as Andy in your dream.

You believed it, because it kinda made sense. Your friend in the memory had clearly been teasing Ransom so calling him by a nickname would fit. Although you had noticed Ransom’s behaviour had changed from that point onwards, you just put it down to his stress and worry over Harlan.

Tomorrow was your wedding day, so today you were going over every last detail making sure everything was in place.

“Kitten I’m just heading out to pick something up,” Ransom says walking into the living room, shrugging on his long camel coat.

“Oh okay, hey um I was thinking of maybe going and visiting Harlan, see how he’s doing, I can call an uber or something,” you say looking up at him.

“No” Ransom states catching you off guard.

“W-what? Why?” you ask shaking your head in confusion.

Ransom lets out a small sigh, his face softening slightly “he doesn't have a lot of energy at the moment, we don’t want to tire him out so he can’t make it to the wedding tomorrow” he explains.

“Oh right, yes okay that makes sense” you mutter glancing down in disappointment.

“I’m sorry kitten, but we’ll see him tomorrow,” Ransom says gently, stepping closer to put his hand on your shoulder.

“I know, I hope he feels better soon, I’d hate to lose him” you sigh looking up at him.

“Me too, I better go otherwise I’ll be late, see you later kitten” Ransom smiles leaning down to press a kiss to your lips, lingering slightly before pulling away, his hands moving to his coat pockets.

“See you later” you smile watching as he goes.

Once he was gone you slumped back on the couch, letting out a long sigh as you stared up at the ceiling. The silence of the house felt even more deafening, your brain instantly running a million miles per hour, so fast you couldn't even try to work out what it was thinking. Rubbing your forehead you look back down your eyes focusing on the TV and the unit it was on, spotting the TV remote hidden at the very back.

“So that’s where it’s kept” you mutter standing up from your spot on the couch.

Reaching into the unit you grab the TV remote and turn it on, finding a sitcom that you could stick on in the background.

For the next couple of hours, you worked through all the wedding details, making sure everything was set. Thankfully it didn't take as long as you thought meaning you could relax. You knew Ransom said not to visit Harlan, but he didn't say you couldn’t call Marta and find out how he was doing.

You reach out to where you left your phone and frown when it wasn't where it should be “that’s weird, where’d it go” you mutter.

You start lifting up all the different cushions and blankets looking for it. You even looked through the large stack of paper that was on the coffee table. When you still couldn't find it you stood up and started searching the couch properly, maybe it had slipped down the side.

You were standing behind the couch checking underneath the couch when you heard the TV play the news bulletin noise. You paid little attention to it as the news anchors started reading out the news.

“Now to our main story, it has been close to 4 months since the disappearance of Y/N Y/L/N, today the police held another press conference with her friends and family appealing for more information from the public” the news anchor announces catching your attention.

Standing up from behind the couch you start watching the TV, first, they show interviews with police and recount the story of the woman’s disappearance. It’s when they cut to the press conference that your breath catches because you recognise everyone.

You could see the man you had seen in your dream the one with short fluffy hair. You saw your parents, the people Ransom had told you had died years ago.

You felt a sharp stabbing sensation in your head making you wince, this didn't make sense. These people couldn't be who you thought they were. They had to just be people who looked like Ransom, and your parents.

“Is there anything you’d like to say to Y/N if she’s out there?” one of the press called out.

The man you thought was Ransom nodded “yes” he mutters “Y/N, sweetheart, I don’t know if you’ll ever see this but if you do please reach out, just to let us know you’re safe, and if there’s someone out there who knows where she is, or know what happened please help us” the man says his voice breaking as he looks down.

You felt your heart shatter as you watched him, sniffling back the tears you didn't even know were falling. He was completely broken, his skin pale, with dark circles under his eyes.

The news piece finishes with a phone number and a picture of the woman missing.

And it was you.

The stabbing sensation in your mind increased tenfold making you cry out in pain, a bright light exploding behind your eyes, your ears ringing. Suddenly it all went black for a second before memories starts playing out in your mind. This time they were all in order, you could hear and see everything. The last thing you saw was you leaving the house, kissing the man from the conference goodbye and getting in the car.

It then all went quiet.

You slowly opened your eyes hoping your surroundings had changed, but they hadn’t, you were still in Ransom’s house. You had most if not all of your memories back, and Ransom wasn’t your fiance, he was practically a stranger and had been lying to you all this time. Looking down at your left hand you recoiled when saw the ring on your finger, you quickly pulled it off and threw it across the room.

You felt like you were about to be sick, your chest heaving as you began to pace back and forth. You needed to get out of here, now. You needed to get to the police and find help. You had to go before Ransom got home.

You dash out of the living room and had just gotten to the bottom of the stairs when you heard the front door open, making you freeze. You look over your shoulder to see Ransom walking back into the house, he paused when he spotted you on the stairs, his gaze falling on your tear-stained cheeks and fearful eyes.

He let out a long and annoyed sigh his shoulders dropping “you remember don’t you?” he asks.

You couldn't find your voice, you knew you should just say no. Pretend you didn't remember anything and slip out in the middle of the night, but you knew he wouldn’t believe you. So you slowly nodded your head.

He let out a frustrated growl kicking the wall in anger making you flinch “you couldn't just wait a couple of days could you!” he growled.

“Please let me leave” you whisper your voice shaking in fear.

“No, you’re mine now” Ransom barked as he lunged forward to grab you.

You managed to duck out of the way underneath his arm. He was blocking the front door so you made a dash to the kitchen hoping to escape through the backdoor. You had only just gotten halfway across the kitchen when Ransom caught up with you, grabbing your hair and wrenching you backwards making you scream out in pain.

“You are going nowhere, you’re life is better here, better with me!” Ransom snarled in your ear and he pulled you back towards him.

“No, please, please let me go” you cry out wincing in pain.

“Never” he spat.

He began pulling you back out of the kitchen by your hair making you scream in pain, blindly reaching out to grab at anything that you could use. You manage to knock over the knife block, your fingers wrapping around the handle of a knife. You twist in his hold, blindly swinging the knife hoping to catch him and force him to drop you.

He however catches your wrist with his free hand. He wraps his arm around you pulling you into his chest, his grip tightening around your wrist to the point it was painful.

“Drop it” Ransom growls as you struggle against him, legs kicking out, “I said drop it” he yells in your ear, using his strength against you to pull the arm which held the knife down, the blade slicing across your thigh just above the knee.

You scream out in pain your hand dropping the knife, the blade clattering to the floor.

You tried to fight through the pain as Ransom dragged you through the house kicking and screaming. Your voice was hoarse by the time he got up the stairs and threw you into a small dark closet.

“You’ll realise soon enough that I’m the one for you” he spat as he threw you to the floor “and until you do you’ll stay right here”

“Please Ransom- don’t do this” you weep from your crumpled state on the floor.

He doesn't answer, instead, he just slams the door leaving you in complete darkness. You curl up into a ball, all your muscles aching as you wept. You gave yourself a few moments to cry before deciding you couldn’t just give in, if you stayed any longer you had no idea what else Ransom could do to you. You had to get out, you had to survive.

Pushing yourself up to your feet you hobbled over to the door hoping for whatever reason Ransom had left it unlocked. You weren't so lucky. The next thing you did was start searching the closet, hoping to find something you could use as a weapon, anything you could use to fight your way out whenever Ransom returned. But there was nothing except clothes and accessories.

You were about to give up when you heard the sound of birds tweeting outside. Looking up to where the noise was coming from you spot a small beam of light streaming through between the coats. Hobbling your way over you start pulling the coats from the rack and discover a small window. There was no handle to open it but if you broke it, you could probably just about squeeze through.

You instantly start searching for something you could use to break it, the best thing is a pair of Ransom’s dress shoes that had a rock-hard heel. You start slamming it against the window, using as much strength as you could without being too loud.

You were about to give up when finally a crack showed, with renewed energy you slammed the heel of the shoe into the window harder. Finally, it broke and in desperation you broke away the rest of the glass with your hands, wincing when the glass cut scratched and cut your skin.

Grabbing hold of the window you begin the pull yourself up, your muscle shaking and crying out as you did so. Once you were halfway through you could see the flat roof of the garage below meaning you weren't going to have too far of a fall. With one final push, you fell out of the window, you tried to break your fall by putting your hands out but you still fell with a heavy thud.

You wince in pain as you push yourself up, you keep yourself low to avoid being spotted as you survey the roof trying to find a good place to climb down. You finally settle on one corner where there was a bush underneath, it would be a straight drop but at least the bush would break your fall.

Taking a deep breath you prepare yourself and start climbing down, falling the short distance into the bush below. Moving as quietly as you could you start making your escape. You didn't have Ransom’s car keys so you had to make a run for it and hope you could catch a ride or make it to a police station.

You had only just gotten halfway across the driveway when you heard Ransom yell in anger inside the house. He must have found you had escaped, and now you only had minutes at most until he found you. So you made a run for it.

Ignoring how your limbs screamed in pain you took off down the long driveway towards the main road. Once you finally reached the road you nearly broke down at how quiet it was, there wasn't a car in sight.

You start looking around for a hiding spot but then you heard the sound of an engine. You panic thinking it was Ransom in his beamer coming to get you but then you spot a van approaching from down the road.

You start waving to get its attention but it didn't seem the be slowing so in desperation you step out into the road, right into its path. The van only just breaks in time your hands landing on its hood as it finally stopped.

The man behind the wheel looked back at you in shock as you held your hands out and started moving to the passenger door “help me please help me” you beg as you open the door.

The man who looked like he was in his mid to late twenties nodded slowly, his blue eyes as wide as saucers as he looked at you.

“Thank you,” you say close to tears as you climb into the van “now drive please,” you say as you close the door.

The man nods still in a state of shock but does as you say and pulls away. Slumping back in your seat you take a deep and shaky breath, you did it, you were free.

“Where-” the man starts before clearing his throat “we should get you to a hospital,” he says gripping the steering wheel tightly as he glances over at you, his eyes darting to the large gash on your leg.

“No, no hospitals, I can’t trust them” you state shaking your head, they had been the ones who let you go home with Ransom, they had been in on whatever his plan was.

“I’m sorry but you’re currently bleeding a lot and you look like shit, Mass Gen isn't too far,” the guy says shaking his head.

“No Mass Gen is where I was, they were in on it, I need to go to the police, specifically this police station,” you say grabbing a scrap of paper from the dash and a pen, quickly writing an address, looking over at the man to show him.

The man looks back over at you in confusion but then you see his expression change to one of shock and realisation “HOLY SHIT YOU’RE THE MISSING CHICK!” he exclaims.

Your lips start to quiver and you have to bite your lower lip to stop yourself from crying “yes, I am, and the man who took me is after me now” you confirm quietly.

“Shit, fuck, okay police it is then” The man nods putting his foot on the gas, the van speeding up.

“Thank you,” you say you’re voice shaking.

“We need to do something about your leg though, that station is a good drive away and you’re losing a lot of blood,” the man says nodding to your leg.

“We can’t stop, if he sees us he’ll take me back,” you say shaking your head at the idea.

“We won’t just- just hold the wheel for me a second,” the man says nodding to the wheel, your eyes widen in surprise but you do as he says and reach out to grab the wheel.

You keep the van steady as he stretches back and grabs something from the back of the van, he then tossed it at you before sitting back down and taking the wheel.

“It's not a proper tourniquet but it’ll work for now,” he says nodding to the guitar strap he put in your lap “do you know how to use it?” he asks.

“Yeah-yeah- are you a doctor or something?” you ask as you slide the loop of the guitar strap up your leg and tightening it.

“A musician but my dad’s a cop so he made sure I and my sister knew how to do this sort of thing in case of an emergency” the man explains with a sigh “my name’s Colin by the way”

You give him a small smile “thank you Colin” you say as you look over at him.

He gave you a small lopsided smile and then you realised you recognised him, he was the singer from the band you’d seen in the bar with your friends “wait I recognise you” you exclaim.

Colin arches a brow as he glances over at you “you do? But we haven't met before today” he says.

“I saw you performing in a bar, you were really good,” you tell him.

A wide smile breaks out on his face “really? Well I’m always happy to meet a fan” he grins “and I guess it’s also a good thing because you know you can definitely trust me, and you haven't just gotten into a van with another psycho” he chuckles.

You give him a wary look that makes him instantly back peddle “I’m sorry, now it's not the time to joke” he apologises.

“It's okay, I trust you… I think” you say with a forced smile making Colin chuckle.

“I’ll take that” he smirks “now c’mon then let's get you home”

Thankfully you soon arrived outside of the Police station, Colin running around to help you out of the van and into the police station.

“We need help and a medic here please!” he shouted as he helped you limp into the police station.

The two police officers behind the desk freeze in shock when they see you, their eyes widening in shock at the state you were in and in recognition when they realised who you were. The both of them rush to come to help you, one of them grabbing a first aid kit on their way.

They hurried you and Colin into a room, getting you to sit down while they worked on your injuries. As they worked you looked over at Colin sending him a silent plea not to leave you, thankfully he understood and stood by your side, even going as far as to hold your hand the entire time. Something that would have made you cry in relief if you had any tears left to cry.

“This cut is going to need stitches and I think you might have broken your wrist,” the police officer says as she bandages you up “you should have gone straight to a hospital”

“I tried but she refused” Colin explains glancing over at me.

“Mass Gen is where he took me from, they let him take me” you explain stuttering slightly over your words.

The two police officers exchange a glance, a silent conversation passing between them before they look back at you “you were abducted? That’s where you’ve been the past couple of months?” the male officer asks.

“Yes- kind of- it's complicated- he- he-” you say struggling to speak as you begin to break down once more, the adrenaline finally leaving your body.

“Hey, hey it's okay you’re safe now” Colin reassures you, squeezing your hand.

“You are, we promise, we won’t let anything happen to you, but we need to get you to a hospital, not Mass Gen, I promise” the female police officer tells you.

“We’ll make sure nothing happens, we’ll have you under guard, but we need to know who to protect you from” the male officer explains.

“Ransom, his name is Ransom Drysdale, you can’t let him find me, or any of his family” you explain, feeling physically sick as you say his name.

The officers exchange another glance before nodding “okay we can do that, now let's get you to the hospital” the female officer tells you.

“Wait! No stop I need him first, I need to see him” you say shaking your head.

The female officer gives you a sympathetic look, knowing who you meant without you even saying his name.

“We’ll call him and let him know, we’ll get him to meet you at the hospital because we need to go now,” she tells you, firm and gentle.

“Thank you, thank you” you mutter shaking your head in relief.

The next hour or so was a complete blur full of doctors, nurses and police officers. It was close to overwhelming, every time I new person entered the room I froze in fear, terrified that this time it would be Ransom. Even though you knew there was a police officer standing guard outside your room the fear never left you.

Your gash had been stitched up and bandaged, your wrist put in a cast, and all the bruises and cuts you had from your struggle to get away had been documented for evidence. You only got a chance to breathe when the doctors finally left you alone to rest.

You were completely exhausted and all you wanted to do was sleep, but you didn't dare shut your eyes. You needed to stay awake and alert for now. So you just lay back staring up at the ceiling, your mind replaying all the memories back to you.

“Where is she!” you heard someone demand outside your room.

You instantly sat up in your bed, eyes trained on the door because you recognised the voice. You waited in anticipation, your chest heaving as seconds ticked by. Finally, after an agonising wait, the door to your room opened and you saw him.

The two of you stared at each other, nobody able to say a single word as you took each other in. He looked tired, his blue eyes scanning over your face and down to all your injuries. He ran a hand down his face shaking his head as he looked at you. You wanted to move but you were completely frozen in place.

“Andy” you finally manage, your voice barely above a whisper.

Andy nods his head, not even bothering to hold back his tears “honey” he whispered.

He surged forward, breaking the both of you from your frozen spell. He wrapped his arms around you tightly, burying his head in the crook of your neck. You clung onto him tightly the both of you breaking down in each other’s arms.

“Fuck honey I’m so happy to see you, I can’t believe you’re here” Andy muttered shaking his head as he pulled back and cupped your cheeks.

“I’m sorry, I’m so sorry” you stutter shaking your head in shame, your fingers wrapping around his wrists.

“No, no, stop, stop that” Andy whispers as he presses a gentle kiss to your forehead “you have nothing to apologise for,” he says his warm gentle blue eyes finding yours “you’re safe now and that’s all that matters, nothing else, and we’ll work this all out, we’ll make him pay for whatever he did to you”

Tears fall down your face, Andy promptly wiping them away with his thumbs “I’m so happy to see you” you whisper shaking your head.

A small smile breaks out on Andy’s face “me too, so, so much” he smiles leaning down to kiss you.

It was hesitant, to begin with, but you eagerly responded, allowing Andy to kiss you more passionately. Every feeling the both of you had was spoken in that kiss. It just felt so right, it was perfect. You hadn’t realised until this moment why kissing Ransom always felt so odd and wrong, it was because your body knew it wasn't Andy. Your body was made for Andy and no one else.

“Where- where is everyone else?” you ask once you finally broke the kiss.

“Carrie will be here tomorrow, Frank and Mary will visit as soon as they can” your heart swelling at the mention of your friends “your parents are making their way over now, they’ll be here in an hour or so,” Andy tells you, his thumbs gently running over your cheeks.

“And they’re all okay? He- he told me my parents were dead” you ask nervously.

“They’re all fine, happy and healthy, they’re so happy you’re safe” Andy reassures you, one hand dropping to take your hand squeezing it gently.

“Oh thank god” you choke out relief taking over you, Andy instantly wrapped his arms around you, kissing the top of your head as he held you.

“Hi, I’m sorry to interrupt the reunion but I thought I better introduce myself,” a man says stepping into your room “I’m Lieutenant Elliott, I’ll be the head detective on your case”

“Have you got him yet? The man who abducted her?” Andy demands standing up and turning to face the detective, his hand resting on your shoulder.

“Yes, we arrested him a few minutes ago” Elliott nods “we’ll be questioning him later tonight but we need to know what happened to you before we can do so” he explains nodding to you.

You glance up at Andy swallowing nervously “yeah… sure” you manage to say looking back over at the detective.

“Take your time honey, don’t rush it if you’re not ready” Andy reassures you.

“No, I’m ready…” you say looking back up at him “it just won’t be easy for you to hear”

Andy takes a deep breath nodding his head before forcing a smile “whatever happened I’ll be right here the entire time” he reassures you.

You nod your head slightly before looking over at the detective “I’m ready”

Over the next half an hour you recalled everything that happened, from the moment you woke up in the hospital, your time with Ransom, and what happened when you finally got your memories back.

By the time you were finished, you had officially run out of tears. The detective muttered something to you as he left but you didn't hear it, you were focused solely on Andy. He had gone silent and sat in his chair next to you in bed. You could see he was still processing what you had just recounted, every dirty detail.

“Please don’t hate me” you choke out shaking your head.

“No” Andy mutters his voice cracking as he shook his head “no I don’t hate you, I could never hate you,” he tells you reaching out to take your hand.

“If I’d known I’d never have gone through with it, let him touch me or- or-” you say struggling to find the words.

“I know, I know honey I know” Andy sighs lifting your hand to his lips “it's okay, we’ll get through this, we’ll make him pay” he promises.

“So we’re good?” you ask still uncertain.

“Yeah we’re good, we’ll always be good” Andy promises, standing up so he could lean over and kiss you “you’re home now”

“I’m home” you repeat “I’m home”

Please remember to put any spoiler filled reactions under the cut! just put :readmore: and press enter if you’re on mobile! or press the three little dots if your on the browser!

EEK! So did any of you guess correctly??? I know I have left a couple things unanswers and open but all for good reasons! that being said if you have question just drop me an ask and i’ll answer them with maybe a couple headcanons etc!

Sharing is caring so please reblog this if you enjoyed this! and leave a little comment if you can!

Series Masterlist / Masterlist

I don’t have a taglist so follow @secretswiftymarvelfanlibrary and turn on post notifications to be kept up to date

#NiamhWrites #MemoryServedSeries #ransom drysdale #ransom x reader #ransom drysdale x reader

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mischief-lies-and-stories · 6 months

Text

Loki Episode 5 Incoherent Thoughts

Spoilers for Loki episode 5. And also my fic, Scattered to the Wind, because holy shit.

My stomach hurts, guys

I've been texting my best friend about this upcoming episode all day. I'd say I was getting progressively more unhinged, but I definitely started out unhinged and fluctuated from there.

Oh my GOD the title is making me feel better already

Oh god never mind I'm scared again after the recap and the haunting intro music

FUCK THAT ONE TEAR ON LOKI'S FACE

SHIT WAIT DID HE TIME SLIP I BET HE TIME SLIPPED

NO HE WENT TO THE PIE ROOM ;.;

FUCK YES HE DID TIME SLIP

OH MONKEY FUCK

THE TIME SLIPS ARE SHORTER

OH MY GOD I'VE FOR SURE HAD A NIGHTMARE LIKE THIS WHERE EVERYTHING TURNS TO SPAGHETTI THAT'S HORRIFYING

NO NOT THE CLOCK TICKING

EVERYTHING'S GONNA BE IN CAPS THIS EP ISN'T IT

I'LL TELL YOU, THE SAME THING HAPPENED IN EP 5 OF LAST SEASON. I TOOK NOTES ALL IN CAPS TOO

YES CASEY'S IN JAIL I WAS FUCKING RIGHT PLEASE BE ALCATRAZ sorry spoilers for Scattered to the Wind

OH MY GOD WHO WAS RIGHT ABOUT FUCKING ALL OF THIS

WAS THAT A BOAT

I WAS FUCKING RIGHT I WAS FUCKING RIGHT I WAS FUCKING RIGHT

FUCK NOW PEOPLE ARE GONNA READ IT AND BE ALL "UM ACTUALLY IT WAS 1962 NOT 1935" AND IM GONNA BE ALL "UM ACTUALLY I FUCKING CALLED THIS ENTIRE THING SO STOW IT"

GUT US LIKE FISH

LOKI

OKAY I GOT THE NAME WRONG BUT LITERALLY EVERYTHING ELSE

YES MOBIUS GIMME

NO LAME FUCK OFF MARVEL

SIX YEARS OFF FOR B-15 I SWEAR TO GOD IF HER NAME IS ANN I'LL LOSE IT

WRONG PLACE BUT I UNDERSTAND. ACCENT, AND I PUT HER IN LONDON BECAUSE EVERYONE ELSE WAS IN AMERICA

UGH SHE'S SO GOOD AND SHE'S A PEDIATRICIAN I WAS RIGHT ABOUT THAT TOO

BUT SHE'S IN NEW YORK IN 2012 WHAT MONTH IS IT BECAUSE SHE MIGHT KNOW LOKI

MOBIUS YES HOLY SHIT

DON FUCKING DON DO NOT GIVE ME YOUR LAST NAME PLEASE I MEAN I SHIP THORKI SO FANONICALLY I'LL BE FINE WITH IT BUT LIKE EVEN MARVEL WOULDN'T DO THAT RIGHT

NO NOT THE CHILDREN PLEASE LET THAT BE THE FICTIONAL PART

YES MIDWEST BUT WRONG STATE AND WAY WRONG YEAR [I! HAVE! THEORIES! THOUGH!]

MOBIUS HONEY SELL THE MAN A DIRT BIKE MORE JET SKIS FOR YOU

I'M CRYING ABOUT THE COMPARISON BETWEEN LOKI AND THE INFLATABLE GUY OH MY GOD THAT WAS PERFECT

That face was not good enough

Okay the slow walk and stare was perfect though

Wait I just remembered I screenshotted a bingo card for this episode specifically wait I'm gonna be a ball of anxiety and procrastinate and see if I got any squares yet I'll play it in a sec.

God Don is doing to Loki what Mobius did to OB in episode 1. Mo it's okay to tell someone you don't recognize them when they recognize you. It makes the interaction afterward way less awkward and a lot easier.

Fuck what's wrong with your son why doesn't he talk to his mom/dad/parent FUCK I HOPE HIS MOM DIDN'T JUST DIE THAT WOULD BE SO SHITTY

THAT LYING BITCH

THAT ASSHOLE IN THE LOKIUS TAG AFTER EPISODE ONE WHAT A LYING BITCH [No I have a thought though, and I'm sure someone else has had it by now.]

MOBIUS TALK TO YOUR KIDS HOLY FUCK OH MY GOD

WAIT

IF IT'S BILLY AND TOMMY I'LL FUCKING SCREAM

NO LOKI

OH MY GOD WAS I RIGHT ABOUT EVERYONE

RIGHT STATE WRONG TIME IF HE'S A PROFESSOR I'LL SHIT MYSELF

OH BABY MY DARLING

I LIKE THIS BETTER

AWW

SOMEHOW I LOVE HIM MORE

THE POSIT ITS. OB!!!!

IS THAT THE LOOM

THE LINES FROM THE TRAILER

WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

IF SYLVIE'S IN BROXTON AND HAS FORGOTTEN SHE CAN DO MAGIC I DON'T KNOW WHAT I'M GOING TO DO

I SWEAR TO GOD YOU GUYS I DIDN'T WATCH THIS EPISODE UNTIL NOW WHAT THE FUCK IS HAPPENING

THIS IS SO WEIRD I DON'T KNOW WHAT TO DO

OH MY GOD IT'S NOT THE LOOM IT'S HIS WORKSHOP

HE'S STAYING SO LONG

OH MY GOD IS HIS REAL WHY GONNA BE BECAUSE HE LOVES MOBIUS? I'LL DIE

YES OB I WROTE THIS WE JUST TAKE BRAD OUT OF THE EQUATION AND I'M OKAY WITH THAT

SO I WAS GONNA SAY IRISH BOYS, KEVIN AND SEAN, BUT

BUT SEAN JUST ASKED FOR A DOG AND A SNAKE

THIS MAN IS AN ODIN VARIANT THE KIDS ARE LOKI AND THOR I DON'T LIKE THIS I DON'T LIKE IT HERE I WANT TO LEAVE

Baby Loki would have absolutely played with matches he stole

Baby Thor loves snakes

Take me back to before I was afraid of who Mobius was gonna be when I thought he was Theo and that was the end of it. Take me back even to when I thought he might be Loki but he was married so we might've actually gotten a Sigyn variant. Take me back to when I thought he might be Sigyn and his wife the Loki variant. Hell, take me back to an hour ago when I thought I was just gonna ship another version of thorki. This is a terrible theory.

Loki my god you are terrible at talking to your amnesiac love interest

MOBIUS I THOUGHT YOU SAID ON THE MARKET FOR A SECOND AND I FREAKED

MOBIUS OH MY GOD STOP TRYING TO SELL PEOPLE JET SKIS AND THOSE ARE YOURS

HE REMEMBERS WORD FOR WORD WHAT MOBIUS SAID

YOU GUYS I HAD TO LOOK THAT UP FOR THE FIC TO GET IT RIGHT AND HE RECITES IT WORD FOR FUCKING WORD OFF THE CUFF

AND THAT'S WHEN I STARTED CRYING

LOKI GIVE HIM HIS MEMORIES BEFORE HE CALLS THE COPS I HATE THIS

IT'S OKAY OB YOU'RE GONNA MEET CASEY SOON HOLY SHIT THOUGH I'D CALL 18 MONTHS FAST AND HOW DID YOU FIND HIM

THAT'S WHAT HE SAID TO SYLVIE

LOKI GIVE HIM HIS MEMORIES HE HAS CHILDREN WHO DON'T HAVE A MOM

You can MOVE the time doors??

LOKI GIVE HIM HIS MEMORIES

ALSO WHERE THE FUCK IS SYLVIE

SPACE NAME

OH MY GOD THERE SHE IS, IN BROXTON JUST LIKE I SAID

OKAY THANK GOD

OH MY GOD THERE'S BRAD

YES HE SAID IT HE WANTS HIS FRIENDS BACK HE HAS FRIENDS HE'S NEVER HAD FRIENDS AND NOW HE DOES I'M NOT CRYING I WASN'T CRYING TWO HOURS AGO WHEN I WAS SHOUTING HE HAS FRIENDS NOW IN MY CAR I'M NOT CRYING YOU ARE

I'M FUCKING BAWLING WHO AM I KIDDING

SYLVIE IT'S OKAY FOR HIM TO WANT FRIENDS IT'S OKAY FOR HIM TO HAVE FRIENDS THAT'S NOT SELFISH THAT'S BEING A PERSON

CASEY SHUT UP AND JUST FLIRT WITH HIM

LOKI NO DARLING

DUDE YOU SAID THAT LIKE YOU'RE SELLING HER DRUGS

SYLVIE

YEAH WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GONNA HAPPEN GIRL

CASEY

OB NO

MOBIUS, B-15

SYLVIE

I CAN'T BELIEVE THEY DID THE FUCKING BLIP AGAIN

TIME LOOP FUCK THIS

FUCK NO FUCK THIS

NO NO

OH HE MEANT HIM OH THANK GOD I THOUGHT HE WAS ABOUT TO GO ALL SYLKI ON ME

LOKIIIIIIIIIIIII YESSSSSSSSSS <3

#loki #loki tv show #loki season 2 #sylvie laufeydottir #mobius m mobius #loki season 2 spoilers #loki 2x05 #holy shit what an episode #did not expect to get it THAT right in the fic though wow

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riddle-me-ri · 9 months

Note

For the hyperfixation ask: 💕

Cuz I'm curious!

💕: Tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

Oh gosh, um...where do I start, and with what fandom umm...hmm. So I'll just uh chose one for each and give a wee description lol.

Also spoilers for Across The Spider-Verse!

Batman: Although I adore a lot of the Rogues, the Riddler became my favorite because I just...related to him and his insecurities? In most iterations, he's trying to prove himself to an abusive father (sometimes mom) figure that couldn't give two shits about him and he's spent most of his life trying to prove to someone-- anyone his worth. And for someone like me who spent most of her life pleasing others to validate my worth...it was just easy to see his struggle and relate.

Into/Across The Spider-Verse: Oh gosh...this is so hard, I love the Spider-Gang so much I swear...but I think I'll use this as a chance to explain why Miguel is one of my favorites The absolute contrast he poses from the other Spider-Men is interesting. I adore the way the filmmakers told us so much about him in such a short time frame. He wasn't always cold, or aggressive...he's been traumatized, he's seeking redemption in one of the most controlling ways. I doubt he sleeps and he's only eating so he can continue to fuel himself for his intense workouts so he can always be the strongest, fastest, etc. I don't agree with his theory (it's very clear Miles is a clean slate), but I can't blame him entirely for freaking out at the idea of the spider-verse collapsing. He's just a really rich and complex character that isn't right or wrong and ambiguous characters like that are fairly difficult to write well.

American McGee's Alice/Alice Madness Returns: As much as I just wanna say Alice (a young woman taking back her mental health and trauma and finding her inner healing? Yes please!) but I absolutely love Cheshire. He's a smart-ass, and fairly brutal...but he's honest and while his delivery is brash...he does care for Alice. His design is one of my favorite Cheshire Cat designs of all time and his voice is AMAZING

Fables/The Wolf Among Us: I fucking adore Bigby Wolf. I'm a huge softy for the gruff, tough exterior types but genuinely have a heart of gold. Bigby is another character that's just rich in complexities and the man is doing everything he can to do the right thing and be better but is constantly having his past thrown back in his face and yet as easy as it is to give in he doesn't (not unless...necessary anyway). This makes him perfect for choice-based video games, do you wanna prove he's changed or just give in to the wolf that lies underneath? Also, also...you should also know that your girl is a huge, huge, huge, werewolf fan. I fucking love werewolves so that was an instant plus lmao sorry vampire-loving mutuals lmao

#ri rambles #ri answers #hyperfixation asks

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delphi-dreamin · 2 years

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Don’t mind me following, seeing your emoji ask answers and wanting to know more so uhhh what about 🐈‍⬛, 🫂, and 💔 for Delphie?

~ @scarlett-vixen

🥺🥺🥺 Kat-! I'm a little emotional right now, ngl.

🐈‍⬛ - Does your Mc have a familiar? If not, what would it be?

Y'know, I hadn't even considered a familiar as a possibility when I first started playing. I really wanna retcon one at this point, lol. If Delphi had a familiar it would be some sort of bird for sure, and likely a corvid or raptor. I'm thinking a raven or maybe a merlin or an owl?

🫂 - Did your Mc make all the pacts they made in canon? Less? Maybe more?

Same number as canon, same order! A little boring, but y'know.

💔 - Did your Mc have a bad fall out with anyone? If yes, did they make up or not?

I was so hoping someone would actually send me an ask and this question. (Spoilers for lesson 37 forward!)

Yes, yes she did. The main one was Diavolo. And, by extension, Barbatos. And Solomon. Lessons 37-40 were absolute hell on Delphi because at that point, she had settled into a more or less monogamous relationship with Lucifer. And so, instead of Diavolo apologizing and hugging her, she blows UP on him and Solomon. I mean tears him a new one. She doesn't care at that point if Diavolo's the prince, she lets him have it. Because the demon she loves is lying unconscious with no memory of any of them and there's nothing they can do. And MAYBE if he and Solomon had SHARED WITH THE CLASS they could have figured out something sooner. Maybe it wouldn't have gotten to this point. And he's telling her the only thing they can do now is sever all her pacts? Fuck you and the horse you rode in on, my lord.

She doesn't make up with Diavolo. When he confesses later on (after the karaoke incident), she rips him a new one again. It really pains her to not trust Barbatos anymore, because she really likes him. But he's Diavolo's man 100%. She can still be amicable with him, but I think any real friendship they could have had is seriously damaged. And Solomon's on thin fucking ice. He wanted to tell her. And he tried to before everything went to shit. (He's gonna be making up for this for centuries if she manages to figure out immortality. Because the bit with the Night Dagger? Not fucking cool.)

Wow, sorry that ended up a novel. Um. I've had that last bit on my chest for a WHILE. I'm actually working on a fic...

#ask games #obey me #mc!delphi #obey me mc #obey me oc #i'm a little starstruck

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xchoco-mixturex · 2 years

Note

🤍 Yunise? 😳🙏

YAY!

Yunise, modern AU! where everything is fine, they got out, and now her family is bigger, adults and yadas.

SEND ME 🤍 + A SHIP AND I’LL TELL YOU…

Who cooks meals for the other? Mayuko. Yuri just knows how to make premade stuff. Also Yuri likes to try things more than make it.

Who spams the other with memes? Yuri. She would toooootally spam Mayuko about funny memes.

Who likes to tidy around the house? Both! They would totally make it either competitive or funny! Yuri tends to make a teeny tiny mess when she naps though.

Who likes to play pranks on the other? Yuri. She would totally prank Mayuko to see her flustered or grumpy. She finds her adorable!

Who asked the other to move in with them? Yuri. Well, Mayuko already lives alone due her father being a shitty asshole, and Yuri found the best chance once everything was settled if Mayuko wanted to go and live with her, together, as a couple. She said yes almost- um- inmediately.

Who is in charge of the music during a car ride? Mayuko. Well, she respect Yuri's liking of music but...Most of her music are videogame osts and anime osts and she loves her a lot but like, she needs a change of ambient.

Who is more likely to tickle the other mercilessly? Yuri~~ She would loove to see if Mayuko actually laughs since she never laughs that much, compared to her. When she gets she is rather ticklish, she gets the goal to herself to always try and get her to laugh!

Who needs to hold the other during scary movies? Mayuko, yes, controversial, both girls are badass and faced evil but do I have to insist Yuri is still fucking scared of mf Sniper--? Maybe she stiiiiill needs someone to hold her. Also, Yuri might not be scared of the movie per se, but when Sniper appears to grab something in the middle of the dark room and Yuri sees him she just hides behind Mayuko. Mayuko says to annoy him that Yuri finds him 'fugly'. He takes it seriously (? (friendship~)

Who has to help the other when it comes to technology? Neither to be honest. Both are rather well versed with technology, Yuri has to teach Mayuko about arcades and gameplays thought, so they can both play together!

Who likes to get a bit frisky in public / an inappropriate setting? Yuri, she likes to tease Mayuko from time to time, and she has to keep it cool in before she loses it and thanks god for an amazing girlfriend. Rika and Sniper annoy Yuri with that for them to 'get a room'.

Who wakes up first, and do they wake up the other or let them rest? Mayuko. She makes the breakfast and wakes up Yuri with a kiss on the forehead. Yuri is, actually , a bit awake when she smells Mayuko's cooking since she loooves Mayu's food. But she likes to feel her kiss on the forehead and she just giggles.

Who is always taking pictures of the other when they aren’t looking? Both! Mayuko takes photos of Yuri being adorable, silly, goofy, everything! Since Yuri for her is her sunshine and she is just mesmerized with her persona and she is her joy. Yuri finds Mayu just so adorable she takes photos whenever she is embarrassed, happy, or with animals, she finds Mayuko really pretty and cherish every single facet of herself.

Who always forgets their wallet and never ends up paying for anything? Yuri... bad habit! Usually from when she goes out with her siblings. It got stuck with Mayuko sadly, thankfully, Mayuko doesn't mind but aaaalways has to remind her about to bring her wallet with her, she says she will. spoiler...she doesnt.

Who can’t sleep because the other snores or moves too much at night? Mayuko. I'm so sorry Yuri, but in the special you were literally dangling from the bed. Yuri would totally steal the blanket, rest all over Mayuko's body, snore, drool, ALL STUFF!

Who is better at video games, and do they let the other win or show no mercy? Yuri. Hell! She tries to teach Mayuko about videogames and ends up beating always her arse. She tries to apologize and lower her competitiveness, but growing up with Rika who is an OP master in videogames, her competitiveness is in her BLOOOOD!

Who always gets up in the middle of the night to use the restroom and accidentally wakes up the other? Yuri. sometimes due the drooling her mouth ends up dry and wakes up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. Every single time Mayuko wakes up with something in hand, knife included, because she things someone broke in...Is just her sleepy girlfriend though. She always scolds Yuri for that because she ends up scaring her and fears she would hurt her accidentally. She says she would try not to wake up in the middle of the night and get herself a glass of water before falling asleep. Spoilers...She doesn't

#thanks for asking dear!#yunise #yurinise #tenkuu shinpan #spoiler #spoilers #maybe i dont remmeber what is a spoiler int his manga anymore....#ask games

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sxaras · 1 month

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CHAPTER FOUR - the desire to be loved

₊˚a story in which two teens inexperienced with love learn to love each other.

warnings — selfship fic (osaluma) (livchu), bsd spoilers, angst, fluff, teen love, romance, mentions of traumatic backstories, underage dr.g use (marijuana), violence

MASTERLIST

notes from dazai’s star: im such an angst loving whore, also if u have concerns about the movie they watched in the last chapter: reminder that teens can feel hormones and will be aroused. i believe it’s best to keep it off the internet bc of creeps but it’s a normal thing for teens. unfortunately i deal with hypersexuality so im thinking about it constantly, though have no desire to act on it rn.

“WHAT THE HELL? that’s why you’ve been avoiding dazai?” liv exclaimed, finally hearing the story from luma. “yeah..” they said bashfully, hugging themselves for comfort.

“i’m sure that he means it, though. i mean, i’ve never seen someone look at you the way he does.”

“how does he look at me?” “like you’re his everything.”

luma’s face flushed a deep red, even against their tan skin. “i’m just scared he’s gonna leave me for someone prettier.” “luma, you’re like the prettiest person i know. and if he doesn’t see it, then he’s an idiot and not worth it,” liv assured, holding their hands in hers.

“i..i don’t really care if he’s not worth it, because he’s worth everything to me,” they admitted, embarrassed. liv already knew how much the two meant to each other. they were each others escape from the twisted reality that they lived in.

“oh, lumi,” she cooed, placing a hand atop of theirs. “did i interrupt a romantic moment?” chuuya asked, standing in the doorway of liv’s room.

“perhaps,” luma joked, smirking at olivia. chuuya grit his teeth. luma’s smirk grew wider seeing his jealous expression. he glared at them, causing liv to stare at luma, who changed their expression back to a smile.

“chuuya..” liv trailed off, ready to pound him for disrespecting her best friend again.

“they were…ugh,” he sighed, defeated. he knew he’d give away his crush on her if he admitted the truth. “come on, i know you like her.” luma smirked, speaking bluntly.

“i—i..” he stammered, but couldn’t defend himself. he didn’t want to hurt liv by saying he had no feelings for her. “chuuya, is that true?” she turned to him.

“…yes,” he admitted. no way, luma thought. luma enjoyed liv’s expression as her face lit up. “so um, do you wanna date?” she asked, a bit flustered. “sure,” he said, a bit too excitedly.

“we should play truth or dare,” luma suggested. “i’m a bit suspicious as to what you have in mind,” chuuya said, concerned. “oh come on, i’m sure it’ll be fine.” olivia shook her head. he obliged only because olivia wanted to play.

“truth or dare?” luma asked, making eye contact with liv. “truth.” “what’s the most romantic thought you’ve had?” liv’s eyes widened as chuuya to glanced at her.

“um…i guess a flower field sunset date,” she said, pointing to her chin as she thought. “oh my god. it better be me you were thinking about,” luma joked.

“it actually was!” liv chuckled. chuuya grunted. “don’t worry, dude. she’s yours, luma approved.” luma looked at him with lazy eyes. “damn you got the luma stamp of approval,” liv said, shocked, considering how many times they’ve slandered the ginger.

“you guys better not make me a third wheel,” they joked, knowing liv wouldn’t do that. “we would never!” liv exclaimed, having an offended expression.

“truth or dare, chuuya?” liv looked at him. “dare.” “if you guys kiss, i’m leaving,” luma immediately said, rolling their eyes. “what?! no, of course not, we’ll wait until you leave.” liv winked.

luma just sighed. “you better treat her well, chuuya. or else i’ll get my bazooka.” “you don’t have a bazooka.” “yes i do.” “don’t gaslight me,” he scoffed. “sorry,” they mumbled, recalling awful memories of their father.

“i didn’t mean it seriously,” he then said, noticing their somber expression. they looked up, nodding slowly. “see? chuuya’s a good guy.” liv cupped his chin, squishing his cheeks.

luma giggled. “he certainly is to you.” “we may dislike each other, but you’re liv’s closest friend. i can’t hate you when you make her so happy,” he explained.

“thanks man, i feel the same way.” they held a hand up, which he awkwardly high-fived. “what’s your dare?” luma asked, returning to the game. “i dare chuuya…to buy me a my melody plushie.” “that’s basically asking for me to buy you something!” he exclaimed. “yeah but it’s for a dare,” luma defended their friend. “not you too,” he grumbled. “ooh! dazai should get you a kuromi plushie, luma!” liv said excitedly.

“i don’t think he’d be interested in getting me that,” luma said, shaking their head. “is it because of the fight?” liv asked, her expression dropping. “wait fight?”

“it wasn’t necessarily a fight. he just…he said some things i just couldn’t believe,” luma said dismissively, shaking their head. “like what?” chuuya asked.

“he promised me he’d stay with me forever, but how do i know that for sure? i mean, my own dad and family abandoned me. how do i know if osamu’s not gonna do the same?” they explained, “he said to just trust him, but how can i do that when so many people have broken that trust?”

“lumi,” liv cooed. “i hate the bastard but i think he’s someone you can trust,” chuuya admitted. “we feel like he’d do anything for you,” he added. “wait, both of you?” luma pointed at the two.

“yeah, we were talking about this a while ago,” liv mentioned, nodding. little did luma know, the two were imagining them as a couple for the longest time. liv wanted her best friend to be happy and osamu could give them that happiness.

“ordered,” chuuya said, talking about liv’s my melody plushie. “wait how?” “liv has a wishlist i have access to,” he explained. “AND YOU GUYS JUST STARTED DATING? i don’t even have that.” “well it’s cause you don’t really have a job,” chuuya chuckled.

luma sighed, back to the witty insults. “loser,” was all luma could reply with. they heard their phone vibrate, picking it up and checking.

it was a text from their mom, asking them to come home.

“shit, my mom wants me home,” luma said, a little panicked. “don’t worry, it’ll be fine,” liv assured, earning a soft smile from luma. “i hope so.” luma exited the room.

they could only guess what the new couple was doing when liv shut the door, chuckling to themselves.

exiting the house, they began returning home.

“hi mom,” they said, arriving home. “hi sweetheart,” she said kindly, making luma’s knot ease. her tone of voice reassured luma that nothing was wrong.

they began heading upstairs to their room. luma mainly watched kubzscouts until it became dark.

settling down for the night, luma shut their door and played some chase atlantic. laying in their bed, they took hits off their dispo, growing higher and higher by the minute.

‘paradise’ by chase atlantic came on, causing luma to further delve into their scenarios. they thought of scenarios that applied to the lyrics of the song with dazai.

god, they were so lovesick for him.

they wished they didn’t have that conversation with him. that they could be on good terms still and luma wasn’t afraid to face him.

“dazai, why can’t you just love me back?”

#🕯️the hills have eyes!#☆—selfships #☆—osaluma

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cno-inbminor · 3 years

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iterum vivere (childe/tartaglia)

a/n: wow, it’s been fucking forever. first genshin fic featuring childe/tartaglia!!! a very huge thank you to @suspensin for reading this over and being my rock and support, and i love her so fucking much. I couldn’t have finished this without her!

plot: reincarnation and modern/uni!au ft. afab reader!traveler with she/they pronouns x childe/tartaglia

-- in which meeting childe is a bit of a dangerous game of push and pull

wc: 12.1k; angst + fluff

warnings: DOES CONTAIN IN-GAME SPOILERS (1.5? 1.6? + story quest and idek) and NSFW MENTIONS (mdni to be safe). there’s no explicit smut but thoughts do run a bit wild here and there

EDIT: Altered ChiLumi version now posted on AO3 here!

“Haven’t we met before?”

The shine in your eyes does nothing to hide your curiosity, head even tilting a little in observation. He watches them scan his face for any recognizable features, but attempts to focus on the strange, taut string of déjà vu that pulls him toward you. In a moment of absentmindedness, he had heard a faint voice call out his name from your direction. Confusion overtook him as you weren’t looking at him, but something inside his brain said that it had to be from you. And so his feet redirected his path towards your figure in the student union building, as if on a mission.

“A fucking whale, Childe?”

Oh.

“I don’t think so…?” You trail off, curiosity now replaced by perplexed feelings. “Do we have a class together?”

I think I would’ve noticed you by now if you were.

“Ah, what’s your major?” Childe asks quickly to avoid listening to the little voice in his head.

“History and anthropology, you?”

“Economics, but I’ve taken a history course for core credits. Maybe it was then?”

“With Dr. Zhong?”

“Yes!” He snaps his fingers. Part of his brain decides to usefully function and scan his memories to see if he remembers your face or head of hair in the lecture hall then. “Last year? Tuesdays and Thursdays from 10 to 11:20?”

“Actually, yeah,” you affirm in surprise. You think you would remember the relatively attractive ginger in your class, but honestly, it had all been such a blur and you were often pretty sleepy during class. Dr. Zhong didn’t quite appreciate it, but you made up for it with your exam and essay grades, as well as paying better attention in some of his other courses.

“Did you need me for anything?”

“I’d like for you to come visit and meet my family.”

He’s really not appreciating this extra voice speaking for him.

“Well…uh…” Childe stammers and looks away sheepishly, hand rubbing the back of his neck. He honestly had no reason for approaching you, and now, he just looks like a desperate idiot. Think quick, he tells himself, floundering for some shitty excuse.

“I wanted to, uh, take another history course as an elective and um, wanted to know if you had any recommendations?”

“Oh,” you blink. That’s a first. When he meets your gaze, the swirling shades of sapphire strike something deep within you. Flashes of events you can’t make out go by in the blink of an eye, but then you realize you’ve been staring for too long. Blood rushes to your cheeks because you don’t exactly want this guy to get the wrong idea from you, because how are you supposed to explain, “I’m sorry, but I think we have met before, but just a really, really long time ago, and we might’ve been more than just acquaintances because that’s what it feels like?”

“I think you’d like Teyvat Mythology,” your voice wavers on the verge of cracking. “Dr. Zhong might have a TA this time around, but Xiao’s a great teacher. Doesn’t have long, rambling anecdotes, but explains things well and gets straight to the point.”

“C-cool, I’ll look into it,” Childe replies and smiles brightly. “I’ll head out then,” jabbing a thumb over his shoulder, where he just realized he left a grouchy Scaramouche waiting by a vending machine, newly purchased Starbucks Tripleshot drink in hand. “Nice seeing you, (y/n).”

He scurries off before you both realize that you never told him your name.

“Who’s that?” Scaramouche asks, jutting his chin in your vague direction.

“Someone from my Intro to Liyuean History course last year,” Childe waves off. “Come on, let’s go before the line at the pasta bar gets too long.”

The next time you see Childe is by accident, traversing across an open field of grass that many students like to sit out on to relax with friends, sunbathe, hold events, or play casual team sports if room permits.

You had your earbuds in and were scrolling through social media when laughter rang above all other sound, causing your head to snap up and swivel around to find the source. And while it might’ve been strange to an outsider, your steps immediately slowed as you watched the man of your tiring, vivid dreams sprint in your direction, eyes pinned on a frisbee heading towards him.

He’s wearing a grey sports tank and basketball shorts, headband holding back his bangs as he makes a slight jump in the air to catch the plastic disc between his palms. His feet plant into the grass as he looks for someone to pass it to, and you watch (with embarrassment) the muscles in his throwing arm relax and tighten with practice, frisbee steadily soaring through the air in a beautiful arc towards a teammate. He then lightly jogs to get closer to his group, but then his back stiffens.

Before your instincts kick in for you to turn and bail, he looks over his shoulder and stares straight at your now stunned self.

The sole ruby earring that glints in the sunlight catches your attention, and you recall your dreams of terrifyingly dark, violet electric power, blades of water rushing toward you, and then the stomach-churning sensation of falling from great heights pours concrete into your veins—

Childe looks a little amused for having your sole focus, hand lifting up for a quick wave. And as you numbly return the greeting, your heart beats out, “Run from him.”

And so with the flight response pulsing and firing from your synapses, you abruptly speed walk away, almost breaking out into a sprint towards your dorm. You ignore his pointed, confused look, and pretend you don’t feel the two holes of imaginary fire searing into your back. It isn’t until you’re laying back in bed that you release a huge sigh of relief and pray to a deity you don’t believe in that those eyes of mirth will not haunt you tonight.

But of course, with a deity that doesn’t exist, the prayers go unanswered.

“Do you believe in any of the mythology you teach?” You ask Xiao about a few days later when you stop by his cubicle. Luckily, no one else is around for this conversation, and Xiao has always been kind enough to humor your thoughts. Granted, he might feel obligated because you had asked Dr. Zhong to be your advisor for your undergraduate Honors thesis, and Xiao was directed to be your receiver of some general questions and source of information if he wasn’t around.

A quick scan of your complexion tells Xiao everything he needs to know. Your eyes are overtaken with rumination and exhaustion, haziness clouding them as you seem to ponder over your own question. It’s not often that you ask him anything not related to your thesis or coursework.

“Perhaps there’s some sense and truth to the tales passed down,” he softly muses. “What makes you ask?”

You lift yourself to sit on the clean area next to his computer, legs slowly swaying back and forth. “It might sound crazy but...I’ve been having dreams lately. They feel too real, too natural to be anything that my mind would make up. I’ve never had the most creative imagination by any means, which is why there’s some comfort to me being a history major, but I can’t shake these.”

“So why ask me about the mythology?”

“...the Archons are there. I even dreamt that I met the Geo and Anemo Archons. And they controlled various elements, just like we were taught.”

You don’t notice that Xiao has ceased his rapid typing, fingers hovering over the keyboard before one hand removes his glasses from his face. He uses the other to rub his eyes and softly pinch the bridge of his nose before sliding the frames back on. Dark, golden amber eyes survey you as you grapple with the unfathomable possibilities of your nightly visions, at least until you shake your head in disbelief at yourself and lightly scoff.

“Who am I kidding?” You ask no one in particular. “Maybe I’ve been doing too much research and everything’s mixing together.”

“You’re ahead of schedule, if that provides any consolation.”

“Some.”

It takes Childe a grand total of one minutes and 53 seconds to sign up for Teyvat Mythology for the spring semester.

WInter in Liyue is only slightly miserable, being so close to the ocean. It’s chillier than usual on this dreary day, yet something compelled you to exit your dorm and shakily make your way to the campus coffee shop for a warm drink. Coffee, hot chocolate, you haven’t quite decided yet, but just as you let yourself bask in the warm building, familiar ginger hair and blue eyes wash away the comfort.

Or do they douse you in security?

They remind you of your recent dreams that now have shifted away from stress and violence to easygoing summer days by the oceanside, running barefoot in the sand while collecting beautifully patterned azure starconches. Sometimes, you thrust a hand towards an oversized four-leaf clover on a wooden stake with the power of wind and catch yourself in the air, soaring and looking around to find more of the little shells. Other nights, they consist of climbing steep cliffs, only to sit at the edge in the clouds with fatigue wracking through your system and marvel at the view before you.

Someone’s always with you though, ruby earring and maroon mask and cobalt blue gem hanging from the waist, sprinting with you, playfully tackling you down, pulling you up towards mountain peaks, laying their head on your shoulders, brushing their lips against your cheek--

You welcome the change of peace in those dreams, but only because they don’t leave you quite as tired the next day, as if you’d been avoiding an inescapable dark force.

Part of you wants the burning question of why this person, this man, in all his glory and brightness, affects you so fucking much when you barely even know the guy -- why looking at him sends your heart to lodge itself in your esophagus, why your lungs feel like they’re so close to being completely collapsed under the weight of his stare, why feeling like you’re trapped and caught between wanting to run towards yet away from him. It makes no sense, and you’re tired of trying to make sense of anything you don’t exactly want to remember from your dreams for some, once again, inexplicable reason.

But there’s no time to think as he quickly ambles towards you, your own feet shuffling forward to meet him in a warped reference of a distance that constitutes to “the middle” before you can stop yourself. Your shivering hasn’t quite stopped yet, and Childe seems to take notice of it.

“Pretty cold out there,” he softly states. It’s cute, the way you’re curling in on yourself to retain some warmth.

“Y-yeah, not sure why I decided I really needed something warm to drink right now,” you reply and avoid his gaze. He watches you peer over his shoulder to squint at the menu display hanging from the ceiling, seemingly contemplating on what you should get.

“How about I get yours today? My treat for your class recommendation last time.” Anything to keep you here longer. Childe doesn’t realize how much he’s missed you, which confuses him, and chooses to ignore the fact that he’d been camping himself at the study tables in the building where the history department is located in hopes of even just catching a quick glimpse of you.

“Oh, you don’t have to do that,” you immediately attempt to subvert his generous offer, hands shooting out from your jacket pockets and waving in rejection. “It was nothing.”

“Please?” Childe puts on his best puppy eyes before reaching for one of your wrists, gently tugging you to the register. “Just this once?”

You want so badly to squash the tiny flare of disappointment that erupts in your chest from the newly acquired knowledge that this was just a one time thing. Do econ majors hate to feel in debt? That they must be even with everyone, or would rather have people indebted to them than the other way around?

There’s no time to think when Childe gives the cashier his order before turning to you, and without wanting to waste anyone’s time, you rattle off your usual beverage. He’s quick in fishing out his student ID to spend some of his campus currency, shooting you a boyish grin when you pout at your half-opened wallet.

“Go take that table over there,” he says, pointing to one in the corner by some windows. “I’m gonna tell my friends to go on without me.”

“I didn’t mean to intrude or pull you away from them,” you slightly panic. The sooner you can leave, the better. Right? “You don’t need to sit with me, I was just gonna head back to my dorm.”

“I insist. Go ahead, I’ll be right there.”

Why your brain takes his orders over your own is a mystery in and of itself, because before you know it, you’re plopped down in one of the lounge seats and staring off into space, mind reeling over the last two minutes. You pretend you can’t hear the way Childe’s friends nudge his arm playfully with their shoulders, wiggling their eyebrows suggestively as Childe tries to get them to stop being nonsensical.

“You’re gonna scare them off,” he hisses at them, hands pushing at their backs so they could finally leave him to his devices.

“Not before you do!” One of them laughs and Childe groans at their antics. “All right, all right, we’ll go. They’re cute though, might steal them if you don’t make a move.”

The darkening of the aura surrounding Childe is too quick for them to fully process, not before he dampens any of their fleeting hopes with a, “Don’t even fucking think about it.”

But it disappears just as fast when his and your drinks are called out, and he gives them one last shove before retrieving your to-go cups. Childe directs all his focus towards the seat diagonally from yours as opposed to the one that’s straight across, and you’re sharply ripped away from whatever reverie you let yourself slip into.

“Thank you,” you murmur, hands cupping the drink and feeling the heat seep into your fingertips. “You really didn’t have to, it was nothing big.”

“Can you blame me for just trying to find an excuse to finally talk to you?” He asks without a skip and you can’t tell if the quickening of your heartbeat is from a looming sense of doom or excitement. Those eyes, the tiny swirls of the ocean, blue like those shells buried in the sand--

It takes three seconds too long for you to understand where he was going with in his words, and part of you feels unamused at his smooth talking. You’ve always guarded yourself against guys like Childe, devilishly handsome who know their way around language semantics, ready to pull you in and just as ready to push you away. That (possibly unfair) bias, coupled with everything else you’ve been feeling for him, sounded the alarms and set the walls up around your heart. Perhaps you need to stop wearing your heart on your sleeve, because Childe immediately retracts his forwardness.

“I’m sorry, I don’t mean to make you uncomfortable. I promise I’m not looking for anything in return and you don’t owe me anything, but I really did just...want to sit and talk and...get to know you?” Childe trails off a little towards the end. Your body loosens up and relaxes just a tiny bit, feeling bad for your snap judgment. Let the guy do something nice, don’t look into it too much, you tell yourself. It’s a coffee, not a five-course dinner.

You reach out a hand towards him, small smile across your lips, ready for his to join yours in a quick handshake. “I’m (y/n), senior history and anthropology double major. It’s nice to meet you.”

The pounding of your heart against your ribcage has nothing to do with the shimmering of his eyes, nothing to do with the fact that his hand fits with yours just right, and nothing to do with the fact that an eerily similar voice from your dreams whispers, “I love you.”

You learn a number of things about Tartaglia in the four hours, like his family members and their respective interests, which classes he did and didn’t enjoy taking, certain takes on Schnezhnayan politics, his own various hobbies, crazy accidents from the occasional college parties, and more. He’s a bit of an open book, probably telling you way more than any regular person would, and definitely more than anything you revealed during all this time. Everything you tell him seems surface level, nothing too deep. The walls are still there to protect you from the unexplainable, profound feelings his presence seems to elicit, and luckily, he doesn’t prod any further. Childe feels the resistance and respects it, which just adds more brownie points in your book, and you almost feel bad for having given so little in return.

“I wish we were taking Teyvat Myth together,” he sighs when walking you back to your dorm, hands stuffed in his pockets. His ruby earring catches the light from the sunset, the shade almost complimentary to the golden amber rays that streak across the sky. “Would’ve helped having a history major in there.”

“Is that all I am to you, an answer bank?” You jokingly ask, but he watches concerningly as you shoot your gaze to the ground, mindfully stepping over the cracks between concrete slabs.

“Of course not,” a gentle sincerity reaches you, giving you the confidence to make eye contact with him. “I’m sorry for making it sound like that, it wasn’t my intention. I really just meant it as a way of saying if the professor or TA ended up being a total bore, then well, having you would make it more fun.”

“I’m sure I’d bore you even more,” chuckling, speeding up to get away. You’re growing too comfortable in whatever atmosphere Childe has created, like an enclosed air bubble bobbing gently in the depths of the sea and letting the waves carry you both to whichever ends of the earth.

“Hey,” he interjects, hand reaching out to stop you with a soft yank of your wrist. There is no resisting force from you, feet stepping backward until he meets you eye to eye. It’s unfair in the way that he can render you motionless by standing just an inch from you, arms brushing with his head tilted closer to your own. “Seriously, I’m glad we did this today. Are you?”

No, because now I don’t know what to think, I don’t know who you are, I’m not any closer to figuring out why you terrify yet leave me so enamoured with you, I’m torn between punching and kissing you and--

“Yes,” you subconsciously answer, brain immediately short-circuiting to scold yourself. “I had fun.”

His grin, charming, devilish, is so so bright, bright enough to rival the Liyue sun that sits on the pier, on the edge of the ocean, bright enough to rival the love that your fraternal twin showers you with on a daily basis. You want time to stop right here because you’re almost sick of the voice settled deep within your heart that screams, “Don’t get comfortable, you must run from him!”

“Good. Let’s do this again?” And you nod, of course you do. Foolish you. “Don’t be a stranger!” He calls out as he turns on his heel and waves over his shoulder, hand raised in the air, and you’re suddenly transported to another scene, a less refined version of the Liyue Harbor, watching as the head of ginger hair with a red mask in a flashier attire of grey and maroon walks away from you and onto a roaring, magnificent ship; big, ivory sails only seen in books and museums. It’s the same gesture of “see you later”, and just before he turns, you blink, and you’re back to seeing your campus again.

But Childe does look back once, warm and content that you’re still standing there, watching over him, and he can’t help but think about when he can spend time with you again, because suddenly, it truly feels like there’s not enough of it anymore.

“Excuse me, what’s a Red Bull?”

The last thing, or person rather, you expect to see on the last day of finals for the fall semester, is a small boy who looks way too young to be here, tugging on the sleeve of your windbreaker. He’s at most eleven, ten maybe, but he has eerily similar characteristics, as well as an accent that doesn’t quite belong to most Liyue natives. Still gathering your bearings from your own perusing of the fridges that hold all the possible beverages a college student could consume, you kneel down until you’re at eye level with the child.

“Repeat that for me? Are you looking for a Red Bull, you say?”

“Yes!” He beams and holds out a student ID that most definitely doesn’t belong to him. “My brother asked me to grab him one because he was busy with something.”

Your eyes flit over to the top shelves where the aforementioned cans of caffeine are located, and definitely too high for someone of his height to reach. “I’ll grab one for you. Did he ask for a specific flavor?”

“Nope, he said regular. Thanks, you’re really nice! Do you know my brother?” He asks, waving the ID at you so you can get a better look at the name. That’s definitely a face you recognize, but the name leaves you confused.

“Yeah, um,” glance over again, “I know...Ajax…”

“He’s the best toy seller in the whole world!”

Somehow, it suits him much better than Childe or Tartaglia, and you’re not quite sure what toys have anything to do with the matter at hand. Speaking of hands, the little boy grabs yours in sheer delight. “Can you take me back to his room? I kinda forgot the directions he told me, and everything’s so big around here.”

“Sure, just let me buy something, too, and I’ll take you.”

“Okay!”

The cashier isn’t the least bit fazed by the little brunette at your side -- it’s always common for family members to come in around the end of semesters to pick up kids or visit, and being an open building with snacks and drinks and a stopping point of most tours, they’ve seen it all. You even let him pick out a bag of chips and a candy bar for himself for being so polite and not a complete menace, paying with your own campus currency.

Teucer, as you’ve learned in the last two minutes, likes to point out things and ask you questions. Luckily, you have answers to most of them and do your best to pad the time, enjoying the feeling of a tiny hand wrapped around three of your fingers. It’s sweet to any normal passerby, believing they’re witnessing an older sister doting on their little brother around the holidays, but to Childe, seeing the tender sweetness on your face as you nod along to whatever Teucer is rambling about to you, sets his heart aflame. He’s already constantly on the verge of wanting to hug and kiss you and never let go, but you haven’t made any indication that you could potentially like him back, and this is just torture.

“Look what they bought me!” Teucer shoves his rewards in Childe’s face as if he had extremely poor eyesight, and you can’t help but laugh a little as you set his Red Bull down on his desk, clutching your own preferred beverage while looking around his room. Finals must have gotten to him with the unusual lack of tidiness in the small space, some laundry strewn here and there, a couple boxes of eaten microwave dinners in the metal wire trash can, some textbooks left open and marked with more sticky notes than you’ve ever seen. You’d only been here once before to drop off some food that he desperately messaged you about, stuck doing a project that he just couldn’t step away from.

“Pretend you don’t see the mess,” Childe pleads, handing a kid tablet to his brother but holding on before Teucer can take it. “What do you say to our nice friend here for buying you these snacks?”

“Thank you!”

“It was nothing,” you shyly smile, ruffling his hair. “I enjoyed meeting you.”

“Wait, what’s your name again?”

“It’s (Y/n).”

“Okay, (y/n)! Wait…(y/n)..as in…”

Teucer trails off and gives a look to his brother, one that spells curiosity and trouble, before he grabs your hand and pulls you into a corner. Any movement Childe makes to leave his desk chair is immediately squashed by Teucer’s disapproval, and the older man is left to helplessly worry when you’re told to squat down so secrets can be whispered into your ear.

“He talks about you a lot whenever he calls home,” and you want to laugh at Tecuer’s attempt to sound as scandalous as possible. “All the time! I think he likes you, like, like like.”

Oh. Oh dear.

“What makes you say that?” You whisper back, indulging both yourself and him, yet also internally snickering at how troubled Childe looks.

“Sometimes, he video calls mama, but we’ll all sit around and talk, and whenever he’s talking about how he saw you or something, he just looks...happy. Really happy.”

The surprise on your face does nothing to settle Childe’s nerves and he’s about to start wringing his hands together. Whatever Teucer was telling you couldn’t be good, probably embarrassing, like the one time he unceremoniously fell on his ass while ice skating over a frozen lake, or when he tried fitting fifteen marshmallows in his mouth and nearly choked on them when their mother caught them in the act, or--

“I think he just thinks of me as a good friend,” you try to inform Teucer, not letting yourself get any semblance of hope. “Nothing more, nothing less.”

“If you say so,” Teucer pouts. But then he stops whispering and bounds over back to his brother, grabbing the tablet before plopping down on the half-made bed.

“Look, I was overconfident and thought I could execute a perfect single loop on the ice, but there was a rock and I lost balance and--”

“I wasn’t being told any stories about you falling on ice, but do tell me more,” you chuckle and take some joy in watching the blush spread across his cheeks. It’s easy to tell that he’s mentally berating himself for jumping to conclusions.

“Well, first off, thanks for buying him all that, and my drink, too,” he sighs. “I spoil him enough as it is.”

“I can see why it’s hard not to,” you smile knowingly. “So is it just him here? Where’s the rest of your family?”

“Funny story, he somehow managed to convince my parents to let him come here on his own as his first ever plane flight, so I had to pick him up yesterday from the airport. He’s flying back with me tomorrow.”

“And the RA?” You ask with an eyebrow raised.

“Ah...well...what he doesn’t know won’t hurt him? Speaking of, what was Teucer whispering to you about?”

There’s a pensiveness that overtakes you when you look at Teucer again, who’s happily playing some sort of game and completely oblivious to the rest of his surroundings. You won’t, can’t, take his words to heart, and will take them with a grain of salt at most.

“Nothing important. Although I did learn something new...Ajax?”

“Say my name -- fuck, say it, please--”

“I guess cat’s out of the bag,” he chuckles and looks away, absolutely unaware of the flare of heat that swirls in your stomach from the fleeting vision just now. “I came up with other nicknames as a kid to seem cooler, and they just stuck with me. Plus, the business world is full of people who just want something from you, or just a transactional relationship. I’d rather not give my real name to them, if you know what I mean.”

“That’s fair,” you nod and lean to sit on the edge of his desk. A thought pops into your head and you turn the words over in your head like a washing machine on the spin setting, teeth gnawing on the flesh of your bottom lip. If Teucer hadn’t been in the room, he would’ve been this close to kissing you.

“But if it’s worth anything,” your voice slowly, softly starts, cautious and wary of your thoughts. “I think...Ajax suits you best.”

Curse fate. Curse the legendary Archons. Curse karma and deities and spirits because all he wants to do right now is stand and tower over you, trap you between himself and his desk so you can’t escape, take those pretty lips between his until they’re bruised and swollen because of him, hear you call out his name in the throes of pleasure so he can finally replace his fantasies with tangible memories. The unnatural, magnetic pull that draws him to you is unbearable now -- he feels like he’ll lose the last tendrils of his sanity if he doesn’t do something.

You can’t stop him from slowly reaching out to grab one of your hands, lifting it towards him until he’s close enough for you to feel his breath ghost over your knuckles. It sends a shiver down your spine and blood is pounding in your ears because you can’t begin to fathom what he’s thinking about while doing this, even more so when his lips make contact with your skin and your breath hitches, stuck in your throat as he languidly peeks at you beneath his eyelashes with a heated gaze, then lowly confessing, “My name sounds best when you say it.”

Good heavens.

It’s difficult to swallow and keep your composure, especially when Teucer yells out in glee over, what you can assume, beating something in his game, and Childe drops your hand. But his dilated pupils don’t retract in the slightest, refusing to let you look away so that maybe, you can understand what he’s trying to convey to you. He’s taking the first step because he’s terrible and can’t contain his self-control anymore, pushing the ball into your court, ready for you to either play or exit into the sidelines.

When you do blink, there’s a vision of your naked body wrapped around another, limbs clinging desperately to a sturdy and panting frame. Lips, much like the ones that have seared themselves onto your knuckles, are at your neck and sucking, biting, before moving to your ear and laying filthy words into them that drive you closer to the edge. It all happens so fast that you feel you’ve just experienced whiplash, yet also feeling secondhand embarrassment at how lewd some of these thoughts have been.

You can’t stay here any longer.

“I-I have to go,” spills off your tongue before you can really think about it. The way the haze shatters in his eyes is heartbreaking in its own way, but there’s no time for you to explain. Your brain is in overdrive and eager to run, run, run. It detects danger on all fronts, but you muster out a, “H-have a good break, come find me next semester, mmk?”

And you’re out the door with inhuman speed. When the door clicks shut, only then does Teucer look up from his screen and frown at the lack of your presence. “Where’d they go?”

Chlide doesn’t seem to hear him, and Teucer has never seen his big brother look so sad and confused before.

He holds on to that last tendril of hope, because mark his words, he will find you come January.

After about a week at home, enjoying the festive time with his family and mildly unconcerned about next year’s courses because that was a problem for another day, Childe has his first, crazy, nonsensical dream.

At least, that’s what he tells himself when he snaps awake and his body aches with exhaustion. Not only are his joints in agony, he also feels like he’s sporting unforeseen bruises, which makes absolutely no sense because he hasn’t done anything that would warrant them, no matter how much he and his brothers do some rough-housing. His night of sleep was all consumed by flashes and scenes of weapon fighting, lucid enough to remember feeling his arms flex and wield bows and double-headed polearms and being cognizant of all the enemies??? surrounding him. They ranged from deranged looking monsters, floating beings with soulless masks, and large humans in electricity-padded armor, to behemoth machines in the sky that could leave you within an inch of your life thanks to a drill for a hand?!

But what’s even worse is that you seem to have managed a deal with Morpheus himself and infiltrated his dreams. You were there, too, sometimes fighting with him, sometimes against him, much to his dismay, and while it was nice, he just didn’t get it. Why the friendliness and hostility? Why was there an anger that overtook him when looking directly at you, parrying your blade and sending harmful arcs of water toward your figure?

Why did he relish the fear in your eyes when he darted towards you with electricity cracking through the air?

There’s an overwhelming sensation now to grab his phone to text you and apologize -- for what, he can’t fathom and there are no words to accurately convey what he’s thinking. “Hey, sorry for wanting to kill you in my dream :( “? Or “Sorry for being a friend but then stabbing you in the back, but then being nice to you again”?

And the only thing that really made sense was the serenity and contentment that would course through his veins as the two of you danced around on ivory sandy beaches, picking up shiny blue starconches and taking down more weird creatures; the breathlessness when you would fall back into the water and re-emerge to reconfirm his beliefs that you were one of the most beautiful humans he’d ever laid his eyes on; the love--

Hold the fuck up.

He doesn’t love you. He likes you a whole lot and he’s severely and deathly attracted to you, but he doesn’t love you. Your existence has only been made known to him for about two months, and he didn’t really start talking to you until three weeks in. So no matter how comfortable he feels with you, no matter how much he wishes that you were sleeping peacefully next to him so his nights wouldn’t feel so lonely, it was too early, too hasty, to say that he loves you.

“I’ve been wondering, why didn’t you bring them home?” His mother asks him out of nowhere during breakfast, all to add to this extremely tumultuous roller-coaster morning he’s been having. All he wants to do is eat his bowl of milk and cereal, then potentially go back to sleep before fulfilling his promise to go with his siblings to the nearby skating rink. It takes everything in him to not choke on his spoon of grains.

“Agreed, didn’t you mention they didn’t really have any family to go back to and that the move to Liyue was semi-permanent?” His father chimes in, laying a quick peck on his wife’s temple. “It’s never fun to spend the holidays alone.”

“They would’ve felt like they were intruding,” Childe replies quietly, stabbing his bowl a few times before scooping up another spoonful of cereal to his mouth. “I know we’re friends, but we haven’t known each other for that long, and maybe they’d be uncomfortable because that’s a lot honestly…”

“You don’t know until you try,” his mother sings and pats him on the shoulder. “We do have a guest room after all.”

“For them and their twin?”

“And quite a comfortable futon with enough blankets.”

Childe smiles fondly at his parents’ kindness. He can only imagine what this winter break would’ve been like now -- you and your twin floating around, trying to help out with certain chores, sitting by the fireplace and watching TV, huddled up with mugs of hot chocolate, playing board games with everyone and engaging in all the shenanigans…

Laughing. Loving. Grinning. Basking.

Handing over one of his hoodies to you as a sick way of torturing yet blessing himself for seeing how lovely you look in his clothes, standing silently in the doorway as you attempt to help out with mealtimes next to his mother, watching you run around in the backyard and dodging his siblings’ snowballs while lodging a few of your own -- how wonderful it all would be.

But he squashes it down as quickly as possible, because you escaped his grasp. You ran away from his advances temporarily and even though you gave him permission to seek you out come the spring semester, he worries that you might take it back. Something will wake up inside of you to keep him out of your heart and your life, and he’s not confident enough at this point to believe there’s a good chance you will come spend the holidays with him and his family next year.

“Maybe next year, ma,” he sends her a hesitant, yet somewhat broken purse of his lips that’s just the least bit curved. It tells her everything he’s thinking, and the quick patting of his cheek lets him know she understands.

Half an hour later, Childe finds himself curled up on his side under the sheets, phone in hand as he stares at a blinking cursor. It shouldn’t be so hard to send a text to convey his holiday greetings, because that’s all it is -- part of him is becoming desperate and aching for some interaction with you, even if it’s just a text sent back for conventional social pleasantries. He’ll take it for now, right?

Before he can totally chicken out, his thumbs quickly type a, “Happy Holidays, (y/n) :)”, and it’s a little embarrassing how quickly after he hits the ‘send’ button that he tosses it over his shoulder so he’s not directly looking at it anymore. His heartbeat is too quick and he prays for no phantom vibrations or phantom sound notifications to avoid any disappointment of thinking he got a reply. It was a harmless text, yet he’s treating it like he just got assigned on a mission to go and murder someone for the first time. What will he do if you never text him back? Does that mean you really don’t want to talk to him? Are you dead in a ditch somewhere? Did you change numbers and not tell him? Did your twin get all the details and make the executive decision to block his number? Will he never get a chance to talk to you again, even if it’s about something in the Teyvat Mythology class next semester? Will you--

His shoulder screams in protest when he quickly flips himself over at the text notification sound, hands shakily unlocking his phone and opening up your conversation again. His heart rate significantly decreases, reaching back to its normal pace, especially as he reads the little words on his screen.

“Happy Holidays, Ajax ^^”

There is hope.

“You’re thinking about him, aren’t you?”

You’re huddled under the comforter of your twin’s bed, phone just peeking above the edge as you stare at it with a brightness in your eyes. For the most part, you had been sulking there, apart from meals and going back to your own room to sleep, and mentally berating yourself for the way you reacted to Childe the week before.

“He just texted me to say happy holidays,” shrugging to put on a facade of indifference. It’s stupid that you’re trying to hide your feelings from your twin of all people, who could pick apart and identify your emotions in a heartbeat. A roll of his eyes lets you know that you haven’t fooled him at all.

“So you think that whatever comment he made, which was very suggestive and indicative of clearly non-platonic feelings, was just something...friendly? Remind me again how you came to that conclusion?”

“I don’t know what I was thinking!” You whine, looking around to see if there was anything you could toss at him. “It’s just, with everything, all the dreams and stupid gut feelings, I just -- I don’t know, okay?? I can’t tell you enough how much I wish I had just kissed his stupid face and see where it goes from there.”

“Okay, gross, but don’t beat yourself up. Though...I do have a good idea on how to maybe get a good reaction out of him. You wanna go to the New Years’ celebration at Xiangling’s?”

“I think she’d threaten me with a knife if I didn’t. She wanted to go shopping at some point, too.”

“I’ll drop the overprotective brother act for one night, okay? One night, just to let this happen, and for your peace of mind.”

He does a fair amount of conspiring with Xiangling, a friend they met one time at a restaurant a couple years ago, even tagging along on the shopping trip. Together, the three of you find yourself a dress that Xiangling swears would make any person drool over you, including Childe, because at the end of the day, he was a person with the possibility of being attracted to you.

You think it’s a bit silly, but honestly, what do you have to lose at this point?

At 11:57PM on New Years’ Eve, Childe is standing outside in the freezing cold with his family, arms lifting up bags of sparklers and fireworks. They’ve driven out closer to the wild like they do every year, and everybody excitedly gets lighters ready, making sure someone’s got a clock out there that tells the seconds. As the younger kids open up the packaging and argue over which one to set off first, Childe’s phone vibrates in his coat pocket.

It’s 11:58PM when he manages to fish the device out and thank himself for buying gloves that are touch-screen friendly, excited to see that there are two texts from you, the latter reading, “Happy New Year!”. It doesn’t matter that you’re a little early, but he’s mainly intrigued by the fact a photo came before it. In his mind, you’re probably curled up with your twin brother, hopefully a selfie because wow, he misses your face.

He gets something else instead, and he is so glad that it’s dark outside and the electric lamp they have is too far away from him to draw any attention.

You have your arm around your brother’s waist and another girl’s that he doesn’t recognize, but it’s a full frontal view of your outfit, one that hugs your curves beautifully and shows more cleavage than he’s ever seen from you, sophisticated and elegant, yet fun and leaving enough to the imagination. There’s a bright smile coming from all of you, and you look like you’re at someone’s house or apartment with plenty of other people milling around in the back, but they don’t matter, not when all he can focus on is you.

Gorgeous, breathtaking, arousing, mind blowing, and gods, he wishes he could teleport to Liyue at this moment, find you, and kiss you right at midnight. Fuck the fact that he doesn’t exactly believe in superstitions like, “Kissing your significant other at midnight means you’ll last forever!” but he’s willing to take the chance with it on this night and the ones after, if he’s allowed. He tries not to think too much about pinning you against the wall and letting the world dissolve -- wants to be the one with the privilege to drag down that zipper and feel his bare skin on yours, and --

As Teucer starts yelling there’s only a minute left, he instinctively locks his phone and shoves it away out of anyone’s view. The last thing he needs is his family teasing him about ogling at your photo for a straight 50 seconds, wide-eyed and pupils on the verge of dilating, the visible breath leaving his mouth just a smudge more dense and prominent than usual.

The only thing he can do to distract himself from popping a boner in front of his parents is to join in on the countdown, making sure all the fireworks are set up correctly and grabbing a sparkler for himself. He waves it around with Tonia and promises to fulfill her wishes of taking one of those pictures right as she draws a pattern in the air. Their excitement is palpable and addicting, and even though the larger fireworks set off a few seconds after midnight hits, the nostalgia fills his lungs with fond memories and future wishes that they only continue this tradition for as long as possible, and hopefully, with you at his side.

When it’s 12:04AM, you get a picture message back of Childe bundled up in a black paletot coat, matching beanie and all, a gloved hand holding a sparkler and lips curved upwards, with a caption that says, “Happy New Year’s! See you soon :)”. You show it to Xiangling and your brother, both taking it as a win in their books, although the former does tipsily protest that there should be a better indicator of Childe’s brain breaking at how amazing you look right now. Maybe she’s prophetic, because another text chimes in and the words set you aflame, as well as suggestive whoops into your ears.

It’s a simple, “You look incredible btw”.

If you didn’t want to properly savor this moment, you would’ve found the nearest shot of the strongest liquor and tossed it back with abandon. But you want to remember the warmth in your veins that wasn’t from the alcohol or the heating, the fluttering of your heartbeat, the teeth-baring grin that you couldn’t fight off, the constant re-reading of those four words -- because they’re so different from everything you had been feeling before with him, the need for protection, the need to escape. Instead, you’d like to be in his arms right now and see for yourself how he’d look at you in this moment, and if he would take any action.

You want him to. So, so bad.

Childe spends his last week at home hating the fact that you’re just sitting around somewhere in Liyue, doing whatever you’re doing, probably doing some light preparation for your last semester of classes, and he’s not there to take advantage of all this free time and hang out with you. When classes start, it’ll be busy and hectic. You still have your thesis to finish and revise, and while that won’t eat up all your time, it’s still some that he’d want to fill in with his presence if he could. He debates whether or not he should ask for your schedule and compare it with his, maybe set up meetings every other day or propose that they all eat one meal together every day. Childe’s not quite sure of what you plan to do after graduation, as it hasn’t come up in conversation yet, but either way, he’s determined to stay in contact and make things work out. Long distance isn’t ideal, but with technology now, he’ll take it.

He feels a little bad for how excited he probably looked to be leaving home, uncharacteristic for the most part. His older siblings have already gone back to their respective homes, and it’s mainly Teucer and Tonia that worry and tear up when he starts packing his belongings. Tonia finds it unfair that Teucer got to meet you first and the latter makes sure to rub it into everyone’s faces. It’s hard for Childe to sleep on the plane because he’s thrumming with excitement, yet somehow even more nervous than usual when the plane hits small bouts of turbulence, and he doesn’t seem to relax until he sets foot back on campus.

He’s here. It’s January, and you’re physically closer to him than ever in the last two weeks.

“Found you.”

On the first day of classes, you’re sitting alone with some salad greens in a bowl, poking your fork at some scraps while you watch something on your phone, earbuds in and back towards the entrance of the canteen. It would explain the unannounced entrance of the very person who’s been at the forefront of nearly every thought in the last 96 hours, his fingers gingerly removing an earbud to surprise you as best as possible, and you startle in your seat.

Your heart kicks into overdrive when he hands you back your earbud and pulls out the seat next to you, setting his own plate of food down as he plops down in his chair. But then he says nothing afterwards, instead choosing to send you a cheeky grin before digging in. You’re left to slowly phase out of your state of shock, stuck between either running away or frantically texting your twin to come and save you even though he was off on a date with Keqing.

It’s not that you weren’t elated at the fact that Childe had done exactly as you told him last month, you just weren’t...prepared? It’s a shitty excuse and a cop out -- you’re mainly just having trouble with racking your brain to find the right words. What are you supposed to say? What should you do? Is it socially acceptable to lean over and kiss him on the cheek because that’s what you’d like to impulsively do at this very second??

“So you did,” you settle and steal a roasted potato wedge from his plate. It’s his turn to be taken by surprise, but he gets over it much quicker than you do. In fact, he spears two wedges and drops them in your bowl, smiling at you as best as he can with a mouth full of food. You give them your thanks before the silence settles in again.

“Did you have a good break?” He asks before his next bite.

“I did. You?”

“It was nice. My parents said I should’ve brought you and your twin home to spend the holidays with us. Can’t say it didn’t cross my mind before finals.”

Holy shit, what? “We couldn’t intrude like that, but that’s really nice of you guys.”

“That’s okay, there’s plenty of chances to visit later.”

You tilt your head and furrow your eyebrows. “But we graduate this semester?”

Childe challenges you with one of his own eyebrows raised. “And? Are we never gonna see each other again?”

Honestly, the possibility had occurred to you. You aren’t entirely sure of Childe’s plans after graduation, and if that meant he was staying in Liyue or going back to Snezhnaya or even moving to Inazuma or Mondstat. While people preach on and on about how lasting friendships and relationships are often formed during college, you believe it’s more common to slowly drift apart as life gets busier. And if Childe moved away, or if you did, it’d be hard to consistently keep in touch with 10 hour workdays.

The thought saddens you, regardless. You like him so much and you’re glad that he was even in your life to begin with, because as unbelievable as it sounds, seeing him was almost akin to the feeling of coming home. Amidst all your nerves, your confusion, your spiraling thoughts, something deeply sated in your heart was a comfort that you found with very few people in your life whenever in his presence.

The thought of leaving and never looking back somehow doesn’t feel new -- it’s bittersweet, but the air in your lungs feels like it’s surrendered to something, like it was to be expected.

“You can’t just leave without telling me--”

“It was last minute! I had no choice!”

“You could’ve written up a message, anything--”

“Can you imagine the position you’d be in if the message got intercepted? I wouldn’t have been safe, she’d make you come after me--”

“As if you’d be any safer in Inazuma of all places! That’s the one place I can’t easily get to!”

“I can take care of myself, Childe, I don’t need you to protect me.”

“This isn’t about me protecting you, (y/n) and -- stop walking, will you?!”

“Then what is this about?” You spin on your wheel with eyes aflame. “Why are you so angry with me? It’s normal for me to disappear for weeks at a time, why was this any different?”

“Because you could’ve died!” He yells back in despair, chest heaving. Your silence is his cue to continue. “You could’ve died and I wouldn’t have known until much later. You could’ve died and all I’d ever think about were the things I never got to say to you, and how I wish I had treated every day with you like it was our last.”

It isn’t hard to tell that you’re stunned and at a complete loss for words. Childe often hides behind facades of charm and wit, and only when he is truly weak does he choose to be this vulnerable, baring his heart for you to see.

“I only have two nightmares in this world. One, my family being harmed in any way. Two, reading in a report or hearing from an agent that you’ve been captured and killed.”

“I like to think that we will.”

His hand reaches out to lay on top of yours, giving it a quick squeeze. “Well, let’s make the most of it this semester.”

Conversation afterwards is easy, filling each other in on holiday activities. Childe speaks extensively about several family traditions and you listen with rapt attention, basking in how fond he is of all of them. Even as you both bring your dishes to the return belt and leave, he immediately offers to drive you both somewhere to get boba, noticing your reluctance to part ways. But boba shops have to close, and you both have class tomorrow morning, and you’re both finding any excuse to keep talking, even if that means sitting outside your dorm building on a nearby bench.

You eventually bid each other good night’s and see you later’s, him refusing to walk away until the heavy door locks shut behind you after you swipe your student ID, and you looking over your shoulder to watch his figure disappear into the night.

True to his intentions, Childe makes great efforts to meet you at least once a day, and he can’t get enough. Each parting from you tugs and tugs at his heart, as if there’s a high possibility you’ll never want to see him again the next day, and he wouldn’t know what to do with himself. Your twin and Childe get along well for the most part, and he even meets Xiangling on one of her shifts at her regular restaurant, who sends you a salacious wink and an eyebrow wiggle over his shoulder that nearly causes you to burst from embarrassment.

February rolls over without a hitch, even if you’re a little disappointed that Childe didn’t make a move for Valentine’s Day. Granted, you two still spent time with each other and he’s so darn physically affectionate and he bought you a carnation from the event his dorm held, but you wish you had the guts to fess up and just kiss the man.

It’ll happen some day, you tell yourself. You have time before graduation.

Two days before the end of the Friday that would signal the start of Spring Break, you wake up in a cold sweat, mind reeling and head splitting, heart so so heavy, as a connection is made between your present and your dreams. Not long after, there are tears streaming silently down your face and into your open palms placed in your lap, and you sit in shock as everything comes back to you. Memories are such treasured burdens, you realize.

For the most part, you had gotten used to the dreams, choosing to take charge of what you know and feel now with Childe over succumbing to some strange neurological premonitions. Especially in your dreams when many people’s faces were blurred over and hazy, and the only things you could rely on were voices, touch, and other physical features. You thought that maybe your mind was just playing tricks by transposing Childe’s hair onto a body that was also strikingly similar to his, but for the first time last night, you could see each defining feature on his face as clear as day.

The sight of his figure arching gracefully over yours, the water arrows that appeared out of thin air, the back that protected you from some military men, the voice that said, “Hey girlie, hold still.”

And that was when you had snapped awake to your current state.

Past the initial shock and uncontrollable tears, you soon bent over as sobs wracked your chest, overwhelmed by all the emotions and the pain the memories brought you; losing your twin, finding him to only be left with even more questions after roaming for decades and decades, meeting all your loved ones throughout Mondstat and Liyue, fighting yet falling so hard for Childe, feeling the fear when facing his Foul Legacy form, hating him for Osial, loving him, breathing heavily as the tip of your blade was pointed at his neck and his own just centimeters from yours, tendrils of water inching closer and closer--

Everything makes sense now.

When you meet your twin for lunch at the cafeteria, you pay no mind to the fact that you’re in public and hug him harder than you ever have in years. He’s already a little alarmed that your eyes seem swollen and you look like finals came two months early, but when he asks what’s wrong, all he gets is a shake of your head and nothing more than, “Just a bad nightmare. I love you, y’know that?”

“I love you too?”

“Don’t sound so unsure, now let’s go and get in line before they run out of Jueyun Chili Chicken.”

Even when you meet Xiao later in the early evening to talk about your thesis, you find yourself holding back more tears just two minutes in, reminded of his past and his own life, and he’s moderately concerned, hesitantly handing you a tissue from the corner of his desk when a stray tear escapes. “Is everything okay?” He hesitantly asks, really hoping that he didn’t do anything to make you cry.

“No,” you almost wail and sniffle while dabbing at your eyes. “Sorry, it’s just been a really long day.”

Xiao’s inquisitive gaze softens, remembering how hard undergraduate life could be sometimes. Graduate school was a whole other level, but that shouldn’t discount your own personal difficulties. Plus, in all of the year and a half that he’s known you, you’ve never broken down like this before in front of him.

“You work really hard, Xiao,” you continue, and he’s not sure where this is coming from. “You’re always so helpful and willing to work with me and answer my stupid questions and like-- you practice self-care, right?”

Xiao nods as a white lie, but it seems to comfort you. Maybe too much because you pull him in for a quick and unexpected hug, and you both decide to reschedule this meeting for tomorrow.

As per usual, you wait for Childe to join you for dinner since you finished up earlier than expected. It gives you more time to think about everyone from Mondstat -- Kaeya, Diluc, Lisa, Jean, Amber...funny to think that some things never changed as you compared their past version to the ones you know now.

“Mora for your thoughts?”

There’s a peace that warms your heart when you hear Childe’s voice, one that forces you to smile at him as he sits down next to you. “Just thinking about old friends.”

“I have to admit, I’ll be a little jealous if it’s another guy taking up more space than me in that pretty brain of yours.”

What a flirt. This man isn’t good for your heart. “Who said you had any to begin with?”

He dramatically places a hand over his heart. “You wound me, (y/n). How will I ever recover?”

“You’re ridiculous,” you snicker. Childe reaches over to pinch your cheek and you bat at him in protest. Easily, he grabs one of your hands and simply pulls you towards the food lines, knowing that you’ll stop fighting back soon.

Part of it feels strange now to feel and see his hands with no leather gloves on.

“Childe,” you start halfway through your meal, continuing after he hums back in reply. “Do you believe in reincarnation?”

He freezes briefly, but recovers so quickly that if you hadn’t been watching so closely, you wouldn’t have noticed. “I think it’s neat, the idea of having past lives. Why do you ask?”

What he really wants to ask is if you’ve been having those dreams, too; if he’s starring in your nights like you have been in his.

“Just a thought, especially since you’re taking Teyvat Myth now, too.”

“Do you...do you think if there was a past life, that we knew each other?”

There’s something about the look of content on your face before you meet his gaze -- he thinks that you know more than you’re letting on but you’re holding back for some reason. He wants to know what’s going through your brain right now, why the fondness in your eyes sends a jolt through him like he’s been searching for it all his life, if you know anything about this magnetic pull between you two.

“I like to think that we knew each other well.”

Even though the first day of your returned memories was somewhat eventful, you couldn’t help but feel yourself wanting to pull back from Childe -- at least, until you can successfully compartmentalize which emotions belonged to you past self and which ones belonged to your current mindset. You didn’t quite agree with his duties and his affiliation with the Fatui back then, even if he had his reasons that did make sense, to some degree.

The killing, the threatening, so intent on stealing Rex Lapis’s Gnosis in the name of the Tsaritsa, summoning Osial as a mean to an end -- and you definitely can’t forget how stubborn he was in not listening to your protests, so caught up in his brain that you had betrayed him and sent you plummeting to a near-death experience despite his earlier promise of no intention of killing you specifically.

Everything had been toeing a faint, thin line with Childe then. Undeniable chemistry and tension, guarding yourself for yours and Paimon’s safety, slashing at Fatui agents, whispering out pleas and affirmations of “I’m yours” while riding him, sometimes having to sneak out in the mornings…

The only thing you don’t remember is how everything ends -- maybe it’ll come back to you eventually, but for now, you think you’re okay not knowing.

If Childe still doesn’t remember anything from back then, you think it’d be unfair to spend time with him in all your conflicting emotions, even when it’s spring break, where you have so much more hours in the day to be with each other than normal. Fun plans around Liyue had been made, like a two-day one-night trip to Yaoguang Shoal, and you’re this close to cancelling on him.

But he had been looking forward to it so much, even made most of the preparations for it. Who are you to rob that joy from him when it was you who couldn’t figure out your own shit? Are you self-destructing?

Perhaps.

Before you know it, you’re sitting in the passenger seat of his car, staring out the window at the scenery. Somehow, it pleased you to see that the nature of Liyue had been carefully preserved over the many centuries despite its development into the modern age. You get lost in picking apart the differences between then and now that you don’t notice how quiet you’ve fallen and Childe looks over worriedly when you show no reaction to your favorite songs playing on the stereo.

Even when he calls your name once, twice, nothing gives as you clearly have tuned everything out. So he leaves you be until there’s about half an hour left on the drive, unable to hold back and succumbing to reach over for your hand. You startle so strongly that he almost feels bad for having done it unannounced. But what’s even more disturbing is that this isn’t really the first time.

You’ve been talking to him less, often sitting quietly and staring off into another world that he can’t seem to reach. His texts are answered less frequently and with less wit and enthusiasm, so much so that he just appreciates you still show up to see him. Each time he asks if you’re okay, you always affirm that you are. He’s had a hard time believing you, but Childe believes you’ll tell him when you’re ready, surely.

It’s a little ironic yet fateful that Childe planned to bring you here, of all places. In the past, you had spent many days and nights running around in the sand with him, fighting slimes and hilichurls and collecting starconches for him. You remember laying on a large towel next to him as you both looked up into the sky, pointing out stars and constellations while sharing endless kisses away from prying, spying eyes.

“I’m sorry, I must’ve zoned out,” you sincerely apologize.

“It’s okay, I just wanna make sure you relax while we’re here. This is supposed to be a vacation.”

“You’re right,” you agree and squeeze his hand. “Let’s make the most of it before we become adults who are too busy to have fun like this again.”

And you do. Childe rented a small beach cabin (rich boys) closer to one end of the shoreline, just big enough with two bedrooms, a bathroom, and a small kitchen with a dining table. You help him bring in your bags and some groceries bought the night before, setting them down quickly so you can peer out the window again to take in the view. Childe picked a good time, too. Although it’d be a little chilly at night, the day was still warm and mainly overcast with clouds.

“What do you say we change into our swimsuits and head down to the water?”

“Sure.”

Childe hadn’t really been expecting for you to step out in a large, casual tee and gym shorts, one shoulder exposed. He might have been hoping to see a little more skin, but his mother didn’t raise a chauvinistic pervert for a son.

The light in your eyes as you both approach the water is everything he had been missing the last few days, your excitement and joy contagious. As soon as you place everything down on the sand, you kick off your flip flops and leave him behind to step into the water, giggling at feeling the waves crash over your ankles and bring sand between your toes. Childe approaches you from behind and starts smearing sunblock on the back of your neck, to which you just grin beautifully at him in thanks and he has to fight off the desire to kiss you right then and there.

You’re too caught up in embracing the ocean afterwards to feel the shrinking distance between you two, mistaking his warmth for the general spring air. It isn’t until he’s done with your shoulders that he hands you the bottle to leave you to do the rest of your body, and when you turn to thank him, he’s much closer than you remember. His eyes are gentle, holding your gaze and almost daring you to look away first.

But if there’s one thing you can place without a shred of doubt, it is the unmistakable look of love, because you had seen it many, many times before without knowing until later what it meant.

How so incredibly lucky you were to have Childe back in your life now, loving you all the same, and with no life-threatening barriers. Fate or the Archons have given you a second chance, and you’d be damned to take it for granted.

Childe welcomes your lips against his, wasting no time to bring you into his arms so you’re pressed against him as much as possible. He can’t care for the overt public display of affection because this is everything he’s wanted for months now, waiting patiently for you to give him permission to make you his. Your lips are incredibly soft and pliant against his as you first kiss him patiently, then applying more force and desperation to taste more of him. He mirrors you, one hand cradling the back of your head and the other on your neck with a thumb extended to your jawline, teeth moving to nip at your bottom lip. It’s dangerous, the way you smile against his lips, and when he sinks his teeth in deeper before pulling back, your quiet mewl nearly drives him over the edge.

But you’re in public, and this was an amazing first kiss. You two have a beach to enjoy and a fun night planned, and now that he doesn’t have to hold back on his affections, it’ll be even better.

His lips part from yours regretfully, his eyes languidly opening to meet yours. Out of the corner of his eye, he spots a blue starconch in the sand and freezes.

It’s not that he’s never seen one before, but something clicks. You. The shore. Starconches. Starry nights. His dreams. Monsters. Gods. Fighting. So much fighting. Training. His family. Dragons. You. Falling. You falling. You fighting him. Yelling. Kissing. Loving. Chasing. Him chasing you before you disappear at a teleport waypoint that somehow you only can operate. The abyss. Your twin.

Oh, Archons.

“ -ou okay, Ajax? Ajax?”

He snaps to look at you again. How does he go about this? How does he ask?

“(Y/n)...have you ever heard of the Fatui Harbingers?”

He has to admit that it’s a bit amazing to be able to identify all the emotions that cross your complexion, from curiosity to realization to conflicted. You’re actively trying to piece everything together without revealing too much on the off-chance that you’re wrong, that Childe hasn’t regained his memories and is just asking about something from class randomly and completely out of the blue.

Wait.

“You haven’t reached that material yet in class,” you whisper, heart in your throat at the realization. Could it really be…

“I was once Tartaglia, eleventh Harbinger of the Fatui, who possessed a Delusion and used my Foul Legacy Transformation with you several times,” he murmurs back, tucking a stray tendril behind your ear. “Is it too late to apologize again for summoning an ancient god and letting you fall about five floors with no warning?”

He should’ve been prepared for you wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him in for a tight embrace. “No, never, but I spent weeks after kicking your ass so you’ve been long forgiven.”

Childe burrows his face into your neck, breathing in your scent and basking in this moment. There was so much to talk about, but you two arguably had more time in the world than ever with nothing holding you back. There was no impending war looming over, no one on the run, no opposing forces. His silent wish for a different life with you seems to have been answered finally. If running into you had been the event to set everything in motion, he only wishes he’d done so earlier.

All that matters now is you’re here together in this plane of existence, given a chance to love again, and experience everything you couldn't before.

As written in the stars, take my soul for it is forever yours.

fin

#childe x reader #tartaglia x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin scenarios #genshin impact scenarios #genshin imagines #childe #tartaglia #childe angst #genshin impact #genshin angst #genshin impact angst #this fic maybe took two years off my life

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nights-legacy · 3 years

Text

Left Behind - All Might's Daughter Pt. 1

PLEASE READ NOTE

{Note/Question/Request- Right now this isn't a paired imagine. I was wondering, after you've read it, where you think I should go with this. If I pair her with anybody, who should is be? How or should she forgive the two OFA users? Etc. Let me know!!}

+2460 Words Slight, slight spoilers from the Sports Festival!

+Y/N L/N is the only daughter of All Might. She has her mother's last name and what can be qualified as a super soldier quirk. She is fast, strong, powerful, and built like a tank and it's all in a small 15 year old girls body. After Midoriya comes into the picture, Y/N starts to feel left behind after a while. So she starts to pull away from them and gets close with Bakugo. Eventually, it all snaps at once and it was at the worst of times.

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I huffed and puffed as I slowed to a stop I looked behind as the rest of the class caught up with Iida and I. We were the fastest in class without quirks and with most of the time. With the sports festival coming up, everyone was trying improve on things they lacked.

“Great job everyone.” Iida congratulated as everyone made it in. I walked over to Midoriya who was nearly doubled over.

“Are you okay there, Midoriya?” I asked patting him lightly on the back. He looked up at me, nodding. “You seem really winded. Maybe you should sit down for a minute.”

“Probably.” He said before he fell back, flat on his back. I laughed at him as he clocked out. I leant over him, hands on my knees, making sure he was okay. A yell of frustration caught my attention. I looked over at the source and saw Bakugo yelling at Sato who was just standing their indifferent.

“Okay, okay.” I went over and grabbed Bakugo’s arm, forcefully dragging him off. He growled at me and ripped his arm from my grip as we got a ways off.

“What do you want?”

“Not a blood bath.” I said with sass. He stared at me before smirking. He crossed his arms and leaned in close.

“I can take someone out without any blood being split.” He said.

“That may be true but who said I was talking about the other person’s blood.” I joked with an amused look on his face. His smirk turned glare and he went off on me. I just laughed and let him. I saw a flash of yellow and blue. I looked over and saw my dad whisking Midoriya away. My face dropped.

“What’s wrong with you now?” Bakugo exclaimed. I looked at him surprised before I saw him look where I was originally. Midoriya and my dad were out of sight now.

“Nothing. Nothing at all.” I said, covering up my dejected annoyance with a smirk. “Now, sorry. I wasn’t listening to you before. What were you saying?”

“You damn…” He growled.

*Time Skip*

The roar of the crowd was empowering but there was a lot on my mind. The sports festival is a big deal. The first two events were alright and I got through fine but the last one was trickier. There are a lot of students with great quirks that could kick my ass. I walked through the halls before I heard two familiar voices. (Reader is in the final round instead of Shiozaki.)

“What are they talking about now?” I whispered to myself. I leant against the wall a ways down the hall. I listened to them and heard Dad encourage Midoriya. After that, Midoriya walked out to the field. Dad began to walk down my way. “Hey dad.”

“Y/N, you spooked me.” He jumped, holding a hand to his chest.

“Sorry.” I said, chuckling.

“Well, it’s alright. You are doing well out there, my little Powerhouse.” I tensed at the nickname.

“Dad.” I whined. He chuckled before moving to walk on. “I’m nervous for the next round.”

“Everything will be fine, Y/N. You’ll see.” He said in a caring voice. He walked away and my shoulders dropped. I needed more than that. Much more. I turned and leant against the wall with my shoulder. I set my head against the wall and took a few un-steady breaths.

“What are you doing dumbass?” I jumped and looked at Bakugo disoriented. I shook my head. I had no idea how long I was standing there. “Are you crying?”

“What?” I reached up and wiped them away. “No just caught some dust in my eyes.” I said before I went to walk away but he caught my arm.

“That’s not it. What’s wrong?” He said softer. I noticed his grip on my arm was soft and…comforting? I looked up at him.

“I just needed some encouragement from someone who didn’t give it. That’s all no big deal.” I pulled away from his grip gently. I had only walked a few feet away when he spoke up.

“Whoever they are, they’re not worth your tears. You shouldn’t need anyone’s encouragement. You strong enough on your own.” I turned to him surprised. He had his back to me, hands in his pockets. I smiled sadly.

“If only you knew who I was talking about.” I whispered.

3rd POV

Bakugo looked over his shoulder as the girl walked away. He fully turned and watched her walk away. Crossing his arms across his chest as he thought about what she said. He knew she meant for him not to hear it but he did.

“Who are you talking about?” He asked out loud. He looked off in the distance in thought. It wasn’t until footsteps caught his attention. He looked behind him to see Deku coming up behind him.

“H-hey Kacchan.” He stuttered while looking a bit tired. Bakugo remembered that Deku had known L/N since before the first day of school.

“Deku! You know L/N, right?” Bakugo asked. He looked at Bakugo strangely.

“Yes. I do. Pretty well, I guess.”

“Who is important to her? Is there anyone here that would or should be in her corner?” Deku looked at him surprised.

“Um, yeah. There is.” He said tentatively.

“Who is it?” Bakugo growled. Deku looked at him before squaring his shoulders.

“I am afraid I cannot tell you, Kacchan. And before you ask me why, it’s not my place or right to tell you. There is a reason they haven’t told anyone and I will not break their trust by outing something that isn’t mine to tell.” Bakugo just stared at him in surprise before Deku walked off.

Y/N’s POV

I breathed out in pain as I walked back into the stadium halls. I had won my first battle against Kaminari but not the second against Iida. My confidence was already down and affected my performance. I rolled my shoulder as I sat down at a table. I pulled my leg up and relaxed back for a moment.

“You did great out there L/N!” Uraraka called out. I smiled at her.

“Thanks.” I called back. I got up a little bit later and walked out. I went to walk up to the student stands. In the corner of my eye is saw green and yellow. I didn’t want to look but did. I saw dad comforting Midoriya and I gave a shaky sigh. I shook my head, biting my lip before continuing on.

*Time Skip*

I was breathing hard but I still ran. I pushed myself harder to try and get away from the robots. This training session was intense and very hard. Half the class was already out and the last few were running dry. I could hear Bakugo and Midoriya just past some rubble. A hit landed right next to me, knocking me off balance.

“Umph.” I rolled off the side and back onto my feet. I dodged an attack before vaulting over a rubble wall. I paused, hearing the robot fussing on the other side. I looked around and saw Midoriya down the street. I rolled my eyes as he waved.

“You doing okay?” He asked.

“Just fine.” I snapped at him. He reeled back at the aggression.

“Are you sure? You’ve been rather testy lately. Did something happen?” He asked concerned. I sighed heavily.

“Of course something did. You’re both just to enamored to see!” I yelled before running on. He ran after me, trying to talk to me but I ignored him. We made way into the cityscape center. I saw Bakugo across the way.

“It’s too quiet here.” Midoriya commented. As soon as he said that, he was tackled off to the side.

“Shit.” I ducked as a bit of the robot flew over my head. I stumbled back, hitting a wall. I watched as he fought the robot with ease. My chest began to fell heavy.

“Come on, Miss L/N. Push on.” I heard my dad’s voice. I scoffed.

“That’s the most encouragement you’ve given me in a month.” I said under my breath. I pushed off the wall and started to fight another robot that showed up. I heard Bakugo on the other side doing the same. In the moment I heard Midoriya scream one of my dad’s catch phrases, I stopped. I just stood there, staring off.

“I give up.” I said softly.

“L/N! Are you alright?” I heard Midoriya yell.

“Oi, dumbass. Get moving!” Bakugo called across the field.

“Miss L/N, I would advise you moving on. Stalling is not advisable in the field.” I heard my father say through the field. I let out a sob. I fell to my knees, burying my face in my hands.

“I give up!” I screamed. “I can’t do this anymore. I. Give. Up!” I screamed, crying out. I couldn’t hold it back anymore. I heard yelling around me but I didn’t care not anymore. I am tired, I am hurt, and I just want this to end.

“Y/N! Look out!” I heard Bakugo’s voice close to me. I looked up right as he grabbed me and pulled me off to the side. We rolled and landed a few feet away. I looked over and saw a robot where I once was. It started to move towards us but shut down. “What’s wrong with you dumbass?” Bakugo yelled at me. I looked at him and saw a glare but concern behind it.

“Are you alright, L/N? What happened to…”

“Stay away from me!” I screamed, shuffling back away from Midoriya as he run up. I hid my face in the back of Bakugo’s shoulder as Midoriya skidded to a stop. I peeked over Bakugo’s shoulder at him and he was in shock.

“Young L/N, are you alright?” We all looked over to see All Might and Aizawa running up.

“You stay away from me too!” I pointed at my dad. I hid my face again and gripped onto Bakugo’s arm. I felt him place a hand on mine but I could tell all of them were confused. I felt a hand on my shoulder. I didn’t immediately recognize the touch so I figured it was Aizawa. I peeked out at him with teary eyes.

“Are you alright?” I nodded before retracting back.

“L/N, what wrong?” Bakugo asked. I just shook my head.

“Not here, not now.” I mumbled.

“Alright.” Aizawa said and stood. “We’re done for the day. All of you go get changed and go home. You three, meet in the classroom.”

“Why me?” Bakugo yelled.

“Because you’re the only one that L/N seems to be comfortable around right now.” Aizawa said firmly. It was silent for a moment.

“Alright.” He agreed without another argument.

I was sitting on the cabinets in the back of the classroom with Bakugo leaning next to me. Midoriya and my dad were at the front of the classroom. I had calmed down some but was still upset. I wouldn’t even look at the two. Aizawa finally came in closing the door behind him.

“Okay. What is going on?” He asked out loud. I glanced at him before looking back out the window. “Not talking. Alright. Do you two know what it is that made her act this way? That made her break down in the middle of a dangerous training session?” From the accusation in his voice I could tell he already knew.

“I am not sure. I have never seen her act like this before.” My dad said. I chuckled darkly.

“Then open your eyes or take off the blinders.” I growled. He looked at me surprised. I saw Bakugo glance between the two of us. He raised an eyebrow at me.

“I am sure I don’t know what you mean. I…” I cut him off.

“Of course you don’t!” I shot up and yelled. “You haven’t noticed one thing about me in month’s dad! Ever since…” I looked at Midoriya. “Ever since then. I have been left behind. Every time I needed encouragement from you I got nothing. Every time I needed advice from you I got nothing.”

“That can’t be, I…”

“The sports festival! I was nervous about the last round and I told you! But the only thing you said was everything will be fine, you’ll see.” I laughed with no amusement. I could hear Bakugo muttering confused behind me. I looked back at him and he had surprise and confusion written all over his face. “Yes, All Might the symbol of Peace is my dad. Unfortunately at the moment.”

“Y/N.”

“No. I’m not done. You made me despise a person that has never done anything bad to me. I haven’t got anything from you since day one. Nothing substantial at least. I don’t have a mother and no one else in this world then my dad but it seems like he’s in someone else corner only. Everyone else corner than mine. Well at least you’ve never treated me bad right? I guess it’s not all bad.” I said in a dark tone.

“Y/N…” He stood stunned.

“Speechless, huh?” I chuckled, feeling tears coming on again. “Look, I don’t want stop with your prodigy but a little acknowledgement or help from time to time. Okay? Okay.” I said before grabbing my bag and walking out. I heard someone running behind me. I looked back to see Bakugo.

“So…your All Might’s daughter, huh?”

“Yeah, the one and only.” I said. I crossed my arms over my stomach as we walked. He hummed and we walked in silence. I could feel the silent tears falling down my face.

“As awesome as that is…right now All Might is my least favorite person right now. Even less than Deku. Why was he even involved in this? Whatever. They are both little shitty…”

“Bakugo!” I yelled frustrated. He fell silent. We stopped and I took a big breath. “I know this is your own way of trying to comfort me but it’s not working, alright? I just…” I covered my face with my hands for a second before letting them drop. I looked at him. “I just want to be alone alright? I can’t, I don’t…I just can’t right now.” I paused to look at him in the face. “I don’t want to blow up on you like I did him. So please, I just want to be alone.” I could see apprehension in his eyes but I didn’t care. I turned and walked away.

“You shouldn’t be alone right now.” He called after me. I could hear him take a few steps before stopping again.

“I know.” I said before turning a corner and walked away from him.

Tags: @spicy-therapist-mom

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boydiisaster · 3 years

Note

It's so awesome there's blogs like yours out there trying to provide content for GN and Male fans. It's so hard to find anything even GN, and as a nonbinary person I just want you to know how much it's appreciated! If you're okay with taking requests right now, I have an Obey Me one? Do you have any headcanons on a poly/throuple relationship between a GN MC, Satan, and Solomon? Those two are surprisingly good friends in canon and alike in a lot of ways, I love them both so much!

throuple satan and solomon headcanons

reader: gender neutral, they/them pronouns

tw/cw: a bit of spoilers and fighting/blood mentions

author's note: AWW YOU'RE GONNA MAKE ME CRY YOU'RE SO NICE, ANON :,) i'm trying my hardest to provide more content for other male and gender neutral readers out there, so i really hope that what i write is enjoyable for yall <33 also i haven't the slightest idea of satan and solomon's canon relationship because i'm only at like lesson 30 smth and don't keep up with my messages so i just pulled most of their dynamic for this out of my ass ( ._.)

It was like a cat just met a dog when Satan and Solomon started dating. They have similarities, sure, but whereas Satan is cold and calculated with his spells, plans, and pranks, it's as if Solomon doesn't think. Like, ever.

How was someone so smart so insufferably stupid at the same time? It's as if Satan is his babysitter more than he's his boyfriend.

Oh god and when Solomon ropes you into doing something with him-

"I hate you both," Satan grumbles, checking your temperature and seeing how it's well above the normal temperature for humans. "Solomon, you can't just drag MC on all your dangerous adventures. They're much more human than you are."

"Just because I accidentally made a spell that cursed me with immortality doesn't mean I'm any less human than they are." Solomon crosses his arms at his boyfriend's hurtful words. "Besides, MC wanted to come with me. Isn't that right, MC?"

You didn't speak. That was probably because you had passed out from how incredibly fatigued you were. Your skin was sticky and noticeably sweaty, eyes closed shut while letting out painful whimpers.

"Tell me again just what happened to them?" Satan groans as he opens a spell book. God knows where he got it. He did that a lot. He was like a video game character or something the way he'd just pull books or spell jars from out his ass. He was always the one Mammon would ask for a pencil, because hell he had like hundreds on him at all times.

"Well," Solomon cheekily smiles and scratches the back of his neck. "We went looking for some herbs for a new spell I concocted."

"Uh huh?"

"And MC sort of... fell."

"What did they fall on, Solomon?"

Said man falls silent. "Solomon?" Satan drags out his lover's name, threatening him, to which all Solomon can do is smile again, this time more nervous.

"They kind of, maybe, fell into a bush of what could have been poisonous flowers...."

"What kind of poisonous flowers, Solomon?" Satan glares at him.

Solomon thinks for a moment, then clasps his hands together. "Let's just say that if we don't get Diavolo or Lucifer in the next," he looks toward a clock, "fifteen or so minutes, MC might fall asleep for probably a whole millennium."

That earns the sorcerer a big thwack to the back of his head by Satan's spell book.

That was probably the first major incident where you were dragged into Solomon's dangerous plans, but it certainly wasn't the last. Most of the time you either ended up with several scrapes or bruises, things Satan or Solomon could easily patch up on their own. But sometimes you'd come back missing a shirt or as a cat.

(It's hard for Satan to be mad at Solomon for accidentally turning you into a cat, but he manages it because you were furious.)

... You were a really cute cat though, MC.

A cat was frantically trying to climb up Satan's pant leg. He was out in the garden tending to his flowers when a kitty he'd never seen before made their way through the bushes and crashed into his leg.

"Hello little one," he smiled at the cat. "Are you lost?"

The cat let out a pitiful wail and latched themselves onto Satan's leg. Satan frowned a bit and started to get worried. "Are you hurt? What's wrong?"

He picked up the cat to examine them. They were a cute little thing with [eye color] eyes and a sleek fur coat. Satan couldn't see anything physically wrong with them. Their paws looked fine, and there was no blood anywhere.

"Did you lose your mom? Maybe your kitten?" he began to muse, then Solomon exploded through the bushes looking frantic as ever.

"Have you seen a cat?" he gasped for air. "About this tall, [eye color] eyes, clearly upset?"

"You mean this one?" Satan held up the cat he found.

"Yes! Give them here-"

The cat hissed and clawed at Solomon's hand, burying themselves further into Satan's grasp. They growled, then looked toward Satan to let out another pitiful whine.

"MC, I'm sorry! I didn't mean to!" Solomon cried.

The cat hissed again.

"I'm sorry, did you just say MC?"

Solomon stiffened. He started to laugh nervously, fiddling with his cuffs. "Uh... would you break up with me if I told you I turned our darling MC into a tiny cat...? If so then no, I didn't say MC."

"You did what?!"

"Oh would you look at the time! I have a meeting with Lord Diavolo I must attend to right now, goodbye Satan, I love you!"

And then Solomon left, leaving Satan to fix whatever spell he put on their partner by himself. Satan wasn't angry about it, but the look of pure rage on your little furry face was enough to let Satan know that if he kept you as a cat for a moment longer you'd raise hell upon everyone in the vicinity.

Having a pact with a demon means that pretty much everything you do is shared with said demon. You feel emotions stronger, god forbid if you feel their specific emotions. You could be angry at Mammon for swiping a bag of candy you bought for yourself, but you act as if Mammon robbed you of every last thing you had just because of the pact you share with Satan. He feels awful about that, even though you reassure him time and time again that:

1.) It's not his fault, and

2.) You wanted a pact with him

Even so, please give Satan cuddles and kisses after he gets all sulky. He acts composed, but on the inside he's so incredibly self-conscious of both his sin and his pact with you.

"You need to be more careful," Satan quietly mused as he bandaged your hurt hands and face. You had gotten into a fight at school because a demon shoved you, and now you were currently inside Satan's room, getting blood all over his pretty carpet.

"I know," you softly sighed and hissed once the rubbing alcohol came into contact with the cuts on your face. "I just, I don't know. It set me off for some reason."

Your boyfriend hesitated for a moment, then applied a bandage to your cheek. "It's because of the pact."

"Satan-"

"You know I'm right, MC." Satan didn't look at you when he talked. Instead he looked at his lap, which had the first aid kit he was using to fix you up in it. "I know I talk about this a lot but... I am truly sorry for doing this to you."

"Hey," you cupped his cheek. "It's not your fault. I can learn to live with this. I learnt to handle my greed, envy, and gluttony when I built pacts with your brothers, right?"

"You shouldn't have to though. Maybe it's best if I-"

You silently kissed him. It was a bittersweet kiss, one filled with love yet unspeakable sadness and hurt. Satan was so self-conscious of his sin, yet you loved him still anyway. You wished he could see that.

"Don't finish that thought," you whispered as you pulled away. Resting your forehead against his, you continued. "I love you. Despite your sin, despite how you were born, despite everything; I love you. I chose you, and I wanted a pact with you." You smiled, and Satan couldn't help but blush at your next sentence.

"You silly demon. You really can't see how amazing you are, huh? It's okay though, because both me and Solomon will always be here to remind you."

Solomon touches all your pact marks constantly. When you take off your shirt it's hard to stop him from touching Leviathan's mark located directly on your back. He's always rubbing his fingers over Beelzebub's symbol on your stomach, always outlining Mammon's mark on your wrist. Sometimes he kisses Belphegor's symbol on your throat. When meeting your eyes, he never fails to stare into the one that holds Lucifer's mark, and even though you cover your thighs almost all the time, it's like Solomon can tell where Asmodeus's mark is. It's his favorite place on your thigh to touch.

You sighed whenever you felt Solomon's lips touch the small of your back. A smile made its way onto your own lips as you giggled.

"I didn't expect Satan to place his mark somewhere so... subtle," he admitted as he popped up to press a kiss to your cheek.

You looked at him out of the corner of your eye. He was playing with your wrist again, looking at the symbol of greed that adorns your skin.

"Solomon," you started.

Your lover hummed. You could tell he was beginning to grow drowsy. His eyes were closed and his movements slowed.

"Are you... jealous?"

That woke him up. He made you face him, and the expression he wore was unreadable. It worried you. Maybe you shouldn't have said that.

"I just mean, like," you grew embarrassed. "Um... you're always touching my pact marks, or always looking at them, and I don't know. Are you mad at me for them?"

The sorcerer gently grasped your hands. His fingers were weirdly soft considering how much he uses them. He sat there for a moment, just running his thumbs over your palms before speaking.

"I am a little," he admitted. "But I'm not mad at you. If anything I'm proud."

You smiled a bit. It was a lopsided and awkward sort of smile, but to Solomon it was the most beautiful thing in the world, as cheesy as that sounded.. He loves seeing his partners happy. He loves seeing you happy.

"You're much stronger than you think," Solomon continued. "Being able to hold seven different pact marks, ones belonging to Avatars, as a human with no sort of prior knowledge on magic?" He beamed. "You're incredible."

That only embarrassed you more. You groaned a bit and tried swatting Solomon away to hide your face, but your lover only pulled you in for a short yet loving kiss.

"You're cute, you know that?"

"You're cuter," you retorted. Solomon just smiled.

"Whatever helps you sleep at night, dear. Speaking of which," he leaned back on your bed and made grabby hands at you, indicating that he wanted you to lay next to him. "I'm tired. Cuddle me."

"So needy," you joked, but instantly complied to Solomon's request. He was never like this in public. It was nice seeing him so open and vulnerable... and cute.

#THANK YOU SM FOR CLARIFYING YOUR HEADCANON REQUEST!!#i'm not poly myself so i never know if i should like-#make the feeling of romantic love be mutual between every person in the relationship?#or just have the two characters love the same person and not each other [weep]#i always feel like im disappointing the poly readers out there writing stuff that way #anywho tho i hope you enjoyed this!! it was a blast to write <3 #obey me #obey me shall we date #obey me solomon #obey me satan #solomon obey me #satan obey me #solomon x reader #satan x reader #solomon x gn reader #satan x gn reader #obey me x gn!reader #obey me x gender neutral reader #ethan.writes

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ladydaemon · 3 years

Note

ayooooo can i get some jealous nikolai please!!!! like seeing you talking to someone else and getting all angry only to admit he really wants ur attention ! pls and thank u <3333

A/N: This is set in Siege and Storm (i think lol it's been awhile) so spoilers for that. Also, this is technically Sturmhond x reader but we aren't going to talk about that. This is probably not what you wanted and honestly it's so short I hate it, sorry in advance.

Summary: One of the Darkling's Grisha flirts with you, only for a pissed privateer to intervene.

Warnings: swearing, um insecure nikolai but not really, also beware i haven't read rule of wolves yet sooo

"Herring is fucking delicious."

"We can't be friends anymore."

"Bold of you to assume we were friends in the first place."

"Honestly, fuck you, Tamar," Y/N huffed, scowling at the woman. First, there was the Darkling demanding passage back to Ravka with his prisoners and prissy Grisha, and now her best friend telling her she liked the one food she despised?

Betrayal of the worst kind.

Y/N turned back to the deck of the ship, watching with a sort of disgusted curiosity at the newcomers on their ship. They're like parrots, she thought. Brightly colored, virtually useless, and they don't stop talking.

The Grisha were doing nothing - walking around, trying to look important and above everyone else, and pestering the crew with questions like, when are we getting there? why is it taking so long? wait, there isn't a hairdresser on board?

"Oh, look at him. What, did he have a rebellious phase as a teenager and didn't grow out of it?" Tamar's voice brought her out of her thoughts, pulling them towards the Darkling. Y/N had to admit, Tamar was right - he was staring pensively out at the ocean, black cape billowing around him, and he generally looked very much like he was brooding.

"An hour of deck-swabbing says the girl down there is his ex," she snorted, swinging her legs over the edge of the boat. It was one of those days where the seas were calm and the breeze was light, and only a couple people were needed to keep the boat moving. Y/N and Tamar were enjoying the free time while it lasted.

"If you think I'm making that bet you are out of your mind. I agree completely."

Y/N hummed, enjoying the sea breeze for a bit before a small cough made her look up to see a broad-shouldered man in a blue kefta with red embroidery standing beside her. "May I sit with you ladies?"

It was clear he wasn't asking, and Tamar and Y/N exchanged an amused glance. "Sure."

The man settled gracefully next to Y/N, kefta pleated like a schoolgirl's around him. Y/N stifled a giggle. It was silent for a beat before she and Tamar resumed their argument, bickering and laughing.

The Grisha put his hand on her thigh.

Both Y/N and Tamar froze for half a second. Tamar raised an eyebrow, a silent question, but Y/N shook her head, ever so slightly. She wanted to just how long the poor man would last.

Y/N turned to face the Grisha, a honeyed smile on her face. "Yes?"

He was obviously pleased that she had recognized him, and took it as his chance to speak, though his hand never left her thigh. "I don't believe we've been properly introduced. My name is Aaron."

"Y/N."

Aaron began to strike up some odd conversation that she barely payed attention to, grinning in a way that he probably thought was flirtatious. He was utterly oblivious to the rest of the crew noticing and snickering, placing bets on when Nikolai would intervene.

A cold, tight voice interrupted Aaron midsentence. "I suggest you take your hand off of my commander's thigh before I cut it off. We wouldn't want any mini Y/Ns running around now, would we?"

"A truly terrifying thought," Tamar agreed.

Y/N looked up to see one Nikolai Lantsov glaring at Aaron, who looked up at him in surprise.

Well, it wasn't really Nikolai Lantsov - this version of him was red-haired and green-eyed, with a weirdly-shaped face and a gaudy teal peacoat covering an equally gaudy yellow tunic. This was Sturmhond, privateer and sailor, not Nikolai, prince and royal.

It really came to no surprise that Aaron decided that he was of a higher status and that she was his for the taking. He stood up, chest-to-chest with Nikolai. "And why should I, thief?"

"Privateer, actually," Nikolai corrected smoothly, and if you hadn't known him, you wouldn't have seen the barely leashed anger, the fury in his eyes. "And because you spoiled brats don't know how to sail a paper boat, let alone a ship such as this. Good luck getting back to Ravka without my crew's help."

Aaron bristled, but Nikolai had the upper hand in the squabble, and everyone knew it. The Inferni scowled and walked away as Nikolai sat down next to the woman in question. To anyone else, he looked casual and in control, but his eyes were narrowed and his fists were slightly clenched and his breathing was far heavier than it should be.

Y/N sighed.

"Well, come on then," she grunted, pulling herself up and offering a hand to him. "Let's go to your room so you can all that teenage boy angst out."

He huffed, stuck his tongue out, but took her hand (not letting go, a fact noticed by Aaron, who whitened in understanding) and followed her belowdecks to his spacious office-slash-bedroom.

"Now, how about you let out all your-" Y/N began, starting to turn around – and stopping halfway there because she was being hugged from behind by one teddy-bear of a man.

"Pay attention to me, please," he whined softly, burying his face in the crook of her neck.

She stifled a giggle, reaching over her head to pat his hair. "Your coat is gaudy, your hair is too red, and your face looks like a donkey's ass."

Nikolai huffed a breath, the warm air tickling her skin. "If you insist on being stubborn-"

"I'm not finished-"

"Please?" His voice was almost childlike, almost shy, and Y/N found herself willing to indulge him. "Tell me about Novyi Zem again."

Ah. Honestly, it was a surprise that she hadn't expected it.

Y/N had grown up in Novyi Zem - she was the daughter of two farmers, and had grown up in the fields. Nikolai, being royal, was utterly fascinated by. He wanted to know how the plows worked (and how he could make them better), how the crops were rotated (so he could improve the rotation), how much money a farmhand costed (so he could determine if they were overpaid or underpaid), how much money went into the pastures and barns.

But most of all, he wanted to hear about her. Her childhood friends, how she had spent her days. He would listen for hours, just soaking in tiny details that seemed irrelevant to her, and commit them to memory. He knew that she had had a dog name Foxie, she rode with an English saddle, that she had named one of the cows Milky, that she hated working in the garden but loved plowing the fields, and that her childhood crush's name was Maurin.

"What do you want me to tell you, sobachka?" Nikolai huffed slightly at the nickname. With the Darkling on their ship and the Grisha onboard, it wasn't safe to say his real name, even in the safe quarters belowdecks, so Y/N had gotten around to calling him his nickname. It felt more him than 'Sturmhond', and it was common enough name that nobody would question it.

Somehow, Nikolai had managed to maneuver them both to the one windowed seat in the room, her sitting comfortably between his legs, back resting on his chest. She had barely noticed. "Anything. Everything."

And she told him. Talked and talked until the sun began to set and their legs had fallen asleep. And he listened, following each word, each syllable with rapt attention, mouth quirking upwards when he saw the glint in her eye until she went quiet, her voice used and spent from talking so much so she just rested her head on his chest and he held and at that moment, Prince Nikolai Lantsov of Ravka knew that he would do absolutely anything to get her attention.

#nikolai lantsov #nikolai lantsov x reader #nikolai lantsov x you #grishaverse #nikolai lantsov x y/n #shadow and bone #king of scars #rule of wolves #dae answers

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sleepysnk · 3 years

Note

REQUESTS??? OPENED??? YES!!! IM SO HAPPY🥺🥺 Can I ask for some Eren × f!reader? Like, some angst? She goes to visit him in his cell after all that happened with marley, and he is all sharp and insensitive with the reader? But she always stays with him there, even sleeping against the cell and all? Idk, im not good with ideas, I just love your writing and I wanted to request! Thank you!❤

hi babe!! <3 thank you for your sweet words and for this request 😔, i felt so sad when i was writing it so my emotions definitely got the best of me 😭. i hope you enjoy! so sorry if this is butthole 🙄💗. i also got the title from the song 'Why?' by Bazzi!

Why?

Pairings: Eren Jaeger x Fem!Reader

Warnings: angst, spoilers to season 4

Eren wasn't himself anymore.

When he returned from Liberio everyone noticed the sudden change in the boy's behavior. His girlfriend (Y/N) noticed the changes and it made a pit in her stomach, she avoided his gaze when they retrieved him and she could barely get any words out of him when she did try to talk to him.

Eren was detained for going off on his own without permission, as well as being a threat to some people. Nobody was allowed to see him except for Hanji, who was somewhat hesitant to speak to him.

(Y/N) was eager to see her boyfriend, despite what everyone was saying, she found herself wanting to talk to him; she just wanted to talk and see what was going on. Even if the higher-ups prohibited it.

"Is anyone there?" she asked, her eyes gazing towards Hanji's.

"No... the coast is clear, be careful (Y/N). That isn't Eren, well.. the Eren I knew anyway," they said, looking at her with concern. "He's definitely still a immature idiot.." they mumbled.

(Y/N) stepped into the hallway that lead to her boyfriends cell. The crackling of the torches was the only sound that could be heard, Eren was usually one to be loud and complain whenever he was placed into the cells, but this time was different; he was silent.

She stood in front of the metal bars, Eren sat on his bed. His hair was tied in a messy bun and he was shirtless, he seemed to be in deep thought until he noticed his girlfriend standing in front of the cell. Her hands wrapped around the cold metal of the bar.

"H-Hey.. Eren," she said, swallowing thickly. Her heart began to beat rapidly in her chest, her palms growing sweaty.

Eren didn't respond, he just sat there staring at the floor. Whatever he was thinking about previously seemed to invade his head again as he seemed to be ignoring what she had to say.

"U-Um.. Eren? Is everything okay?" she asked, her head cocking to the side.

Eren's eyes suddenly shifted towards her form, his once bright eyes were now a shade of dark green. They lost their light, something (Y/N) noticed when he came back from Liberio.

"What do you want? Why the hell are you even here?" he asked coldly.

Her eyes went wide a bit as the words came from his mouth, "U-Um.. I just... wanted to check on you, that's all," she replied.

Eren stood up, it made (Y/N)'s breath stop. He approached the front of the cell and stared down at her, he seemed so much bigger than before.

"Just go. I don't want you here." he said with a stern voice.

Her heart stung at his words. Truth is, it hurt a lot. Eren had never spoken to her like that before and it was shocking, but not unexpected considering how he acted on the way back in Liberio.

"No, Eren. I'm staying here whether you like it or not, I care about you and I'm not just about to leave; I love you Eren." she replied, her arms crossing over her chest.

Eren's jade eyes widened hearing the words roll of her tongue, why? Why the hell did she still love him? He was a monster. Everyone would agree that what Eren did was extremely fucked up, he killed children, mothers, fathers, innocent people for God's sake. Yet.. she was here standing in front of his cell begging to stay.

"(Y/N)... I'm not gonna tell you again, just fucking get out!" he yelled, staring down at her intensely.

She felt tears brimming at the corners of her eyes, "Eren! What the hell is wrong with you!? Why are you acting this way towards me?!" she cried.

He clenched his teeth, "Because I don't want to fucking see you anymore.. so get the hell out! I don't understand what's not clicking for you!" he yelled.

Her eyes widened a bit, tears rolled down her cheeks seeing the way he was acting. This wasn't Eren.. this was someone else, and it hurt knowing this is who he became in a matter of months.

"B-Because.. fuck!" she said. "I still care! I still love you Eren! Why won't YOU understand that! I can't just let you go and leave you here.."

Eren looked away, his hand clenching tightly around the metal bars separating the two of them. He just wanted to reach out and brush away her tears, being honest, it hurt seeing his girlfriend like this. He would never admit it but it truly did hurt him.

"Do what you want to do.. I don't care about you or what you feel." he said and turned to walk away.

She started to sob, her body going down to the floor. A small thump came from the floor as her body made contact with the pavement beneath her, cries and sobs could be heard in the room and it hurt. It hurt a lot.

All Eren could do was watch as she cried, he wanted to help, but he couldn't.

Within a few hours (Y/N)'s sleeping body was slumped against his cell. Soft snores could be heard, she cried so hard that she fell asleep on the ground.

Eren was wide awake, his eyes were locked on the ceiling. His mind began to fill with what just happened a few hours prior, he didn't mean what he said to her, Eren still cared about her and he would never think in a million years he would tell her he didn't care.

His eyes panned over to her sleeping body, she looked calm, it made Eren's heart slightly grow with happiness.

"God (Y/N)... what am I going to do about you? Why do you still love me?"

#anime #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #aot x reader #aot x y/n #aot imagines #aot fanfiction #snk x y/n #snk x reader #snk imagines #snk fanfiction #shingeki no kyoujin fanfiction #eren jaeger #eren jaeger x reader #eren x reader #attack on titan fanfiction #anime fanfic #aot angst

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wizkiddx · 3 years

Note

hiiiii i love your stuff - could u do one where the readers ill but they have stuff to do and tom has to look after her. maybe if they were just friends before too but both pining? thankuuuuuuuuu

should I be writing this instead of revising? clearly fucking not. Did I make this little blurb req ridiculously long purely to procrastinate? Of fucking course.

but also this was v cute! I assumed u meant famous!reader, sorry if that's not what u were after at all anon x

summary: Tom Holland turns into the readers knight in shining armour when they get ill during promo

warnings: fainting / feeling ill

///////////////////

It couldn’t be today. Of all days, why today? You’d been at home for two weeks doing absolutely nothing, before this trip. And yet it’s when your itinerary is packed to the brim, people moving heaven and earth just speak to you. Two weeks of unrelenting press for Marvels next big ensemble movie.

Your manager was speaking to you, reeling off a run down of todays activities but instead of listening you nodded along blankly - head rather cloudy with this heavy mist that was not shaking off, no matter how hard you tried.

“You got that Y/n/n?” Lucy pointedly spoke, eyes almost physically knocking you backwards as if her eyeliner was battery rams. Fumbling with your thoughts, your answer wasn’t particularly cohesive earning you just a disappointed head shake.

“I um… yeh I think. Who-who did you say I was paired up with?”

“Y/n please for the love of god. Tom, like I said the past fifty times.” And to be fair to Lucy she wasn’t wrong. It was the first major major promo tour for the both of you and after just two days so far - you were both exhausted. She was more than allowed to be a bit short tempered.

“But we-we hardly know each other? The chemistry won’t be there and-“

“As I said, I tried to re-jig it but Kevin is of the mind that acting is your job.” Her tone was sharp but as she glared across the opposing seats, in the little mini van Marvel had hired for you as transportation, her eyes softened. Lucy had been so wrapped up in her own stress she may have overlooked quite how gingerly you were sitting. By the time she had arrived at the hotel, your stylist had already managed to half save your ghoulish looking face, with sunken under eyes and tired skin, so it wasn’t so blatantly obvious how crap you were feeling. “Is everything okay with you?”

It felt pretty puny to say that the jet lag from flying to Tokyo had been weighing you down further than you wanted, or that the local cuisine top chefs had kindly prepared for you last night wasn’t siting well in your stomach. To be honest, even you thought it was just your body being a bit overdramatic. So in response, you put on your best happy-go-lucky face feigning a smile.

“No no I’m fine, just want to give the best interviews I can and you know…. I’m awkward as hell as it is, then pair me with the most talented actor that I share about two minutes of screen time with…it’ll be interesting.”

The way Lucy reacted with a weird slow nod, eyebrows furrowed, meant it was quite apparent you had perhaps overplayed that one. Had you not been so over the day before it even began, you would’ve tried again to give a more believable act. But as you were, you turned your attention back out to the bustling streets of Tokyo and the high rise buildings bordering each pavement.

You didnt have a problem with Tom, far from it in fact. Tom was hilarious and the times you had met him, you’d both built up this weird and sarcastic competitiveness with each other. It was a game of who could get the last laugh, each of you pushing each other with the Mickey taking just a little further. Of course, not in a malicious way, just the way you’d both lived pretty similar but parallel careers - when everyone drew comparisons between the both of you, it was nice to make it a joke.

Like Tom you’d also started out on stage, had a ‘big break’ movie as a kid and then spent your teenage years on and off film sets - till marvel happened. Then everything blew up to epic proportions, changing your life forever. Actually, it was so similar to Tom’s story, plus the fact you were also from the south west of the UK. It was bizarre your paths hadn’t crossed more - He probably could’ve been a useful ally in the the whole ‘becoming famous’ thing.

And yet, you could probably count on two hands the amount of conversations you’d had with him.

Now that, that was the issue. Right from the beginning you learn what the press want and when you are publicising a movie you cater into it too. They’d all be asking for the insider scoop on set; what pranks you’d pulled on each other; what was the most annoying thing about each other. Which is hard if you’d only had 5 or 6 days actually on set together.

By the time the cab had wormed its way through the Tokyo traffic and you arrived at the PR hotel, it was already 9:30 - making you 15 minutes late (blame it on the traffic). Instantly then you were ushered straight to the interview room for the evening, no chance of green room chat or grabbing a drink before. The place was stuffy, everything was draped with black curtains except the poster board that Tom was already sitting infront of.

He’d scrubbed up well, no doubt about it. He was wearing statement-ish burgundy suit trousers, teamed with a black knitted but collared shirt thing - that was clearly tailor made for the man. As soon as he noticed you scurry into the room, his face broke out into a warm smile, jumping up to greet you in a friendly hug. It was brief, and as you pulled back you accidentally bumped your head on one of the overhanging lights. No doubt someone had spent a ridiculous amount of time configuring them so they were positioned perfectly, which you had just ruined with your big head.

“Oh shit!” Tom just laughed in response, shaking his head slightly as he lead you the two steps across to your pre-positioned seats.

“Making an entrance as always I see!”

“Yeh, you know me, a bit of chaos just to keep everyone on their toes.”

“Oh is that why you’re ‘fashionably late’” With a playful wiggle of his eyebrows, you just rolled your eyes, fidgeting on the chair to find a position that didnt aggravate your stomach so much.

“I’m ready now though! What did I miss? Just having to pretend to be your friend for 15 minutes?” You stressed the words as though the thought of conversation with Tom was the absolute worst thing in the world - which you definetly didnt think. Scowling like you’d insulted his dog Tessa, it was almost visible how the cogs were turning in his head looking for a comeback. Unfortunately for him though, he was quickly shut up but the organiser bringing the first interviewer in .

For what would, no doubt, be a long day.

////

Everything had started off so well, the banter was flowing between you and Tom, no major spoilers revealed that meant Marvel would have to make the journalist disappear. It was once you hit an hour of back-to-back interviews that everything started to crack bit. Because yes, it had only been an hour but that was enough to exhaust you on this particular day. When Tom joked around you got slower and slower, similarly the energy was zapped from your own answers. It’s not very compelling when someone says ‘you have to watch this movie’ in a monotonous voice with sullen eyes.

As the interviewers were swapping in and out, Tom actually lightly nudged your shoulder.

“Everything alright? We’re trying to sell tickets and you’ve got a face like thunder.”

“Oh no-no sorry I just, I-um.”

“You want some water?” Now looking at your with more concerned eyes, as if he was just nervous he’d actually offended you for calling you a boring bastard. And you would’ve picked up on it and alleviated his concerns, if it weren’t for the fact your eyes were glued on the water bottle he was holding out to you. You were thirsty. You knew that, that wasn’t the conundrum. What you weren’t so sure about was whether your stomach would accept it, or more violently reject it. In a very non ‘we’re-trying-to-sell-a-movie’ style.

But the lightheaded fogginess in your brain won out, as you nodded jerkily, taking the bottle and taking a little swig - too cautious to take anymore.

Now concerned with how Tom thought you were being a Debby-downer too, you managed to perk yourself up for the next four interviews. They were easy, asking questions without any activity and though you did rely on Tom beefing out and adding to your answers, it was okay. Then the next interviewer came in, who you recognised as being from the BBC, Ali Plumb, that had interviewed you a number of times. From the way Tom jumped up to give him afirendly bro-hug, you guessed he also was familiar with him. As soon as he took a seat the cameras were already flashing with the red light, demonstrating his 7 minutes had already started.

“Guys! It’s been a while.”

“How are you Ali?” You started it off with the pleasantries, Tom echoing, before the speccy dirty-blonde asked his first question.

“So the last time I spoke to you guys the universe was in chaos, Peter Parkers on the run and Aurora Blake was trying to strip her own powers, so I guess my first question is how are you both doing? We can use this as a therapy session if you guys need.” His very typical nerdy joke made Tom laugh, nodding as he leaned forward and repositioned a bit.

You didn’t share the same humour though, more focused on this invisible blanket of stuffiness that seemed to have been thrown on top of you. It made you feel groggy, incredibly hot and so unbelievable nauseous. The lights weren’t helping either, it felt like you were pouring with sweat from your forehead. You thought Tom was answering Ali, even if you couldn’t really hear - everything had merged into a deafening roar. Adrenaline coursed through your veins, unconsciously making you fumble yourself to standing, desperate to get somewhere with fresh air. The last thing you saw before your vision tunnelled into darkness was Tom, reaching out to try and catch you.

Because next thing you knew, you were on the floor, wires from all the cameras and lights digging into your back as you looked up to see Tom on one side and Lucy on the other - both wearing a similarly panicked expression. You knew you hadn’t been out long, seconds if that, going by the fact everyone else was in the ‘oh my god’ phase of panic. It was a bit weird how calm you where, but then again all your life you’d been the ‘class fainter’. Waking up on the floor was something you were long since used to.

“Y/n? You awake?” Rather stating the obvious Tom asked the question as you bent your head up - allowing you sight of all the concerned facing oggling you. With a defeated sigh, you flopped your head back.

“If this is a dream then it’s a real bloody nightmare.” This time Tom didnt seem to appreciate your joke, looking at you without almost dumbfounded eyes, as you blinked repetitively and groaned.

“Why didn’t you say anything?” Lucy appeared to want to lecture you, which to be honest wasn’t the most time appropriate. You were still on the floor, legs crumpled up under you, so ignored her. Instead you pulled yourself up into a sitting position, taking a moment to blink away the blotchy haze that threatened to takeover your vision once again, whilst the pair above you both cautiously rested their palms on each of your shoulders -trying to be useful. The room still felt cramped and stifling, as everyone around were no doubt looking at you.

It took a few minutes but your body seemed to get over itself, sitting up normally and trying to make small talk with Ali - who, by the way, was still sat awkwardly in the chair. Still nestled on the floor, your back up against the chair you had been siting on as you raved with Ali of the Harry Potter theatre show. In a natural lull in conversation, Tom perked up - from the door where he’d been muttering with the organiser as Lucy bit her nails nervously.

“Y/n you need to go home.”

All of you knew what Tom said was impossible. Not being egotistical, but you were too important. Although you hadn’t been paying masses of attention for Lucy’s run down of your itinerary - you knew it was packed.

So you just looked up and rolled your eyes at Tom, earning yourself a strong glare, before locking the organiser in eye contact.

“How many have we got till lunch?”

“Um this gent here” He gesturned toward Ali, who was almost squirming in his seat now “then two more.”

“And then lunch?”

“Yes, then you have a personal appearance at a dinner, so transport will be coming to pick you both up.” This poor guy seemed obsessed with the clock and his timetable, looking at your with a mixture of panic and frustration. You should know this stuff, you should’ve listened to Lucy.

“How fars the drive?”

“At this time probably an hour and a half.”

The plan was clear in your head, you’d sort yourself out in the car and be fully fine by the afternoon and evening engagements. Plus you felt almost fine now. So with a sigh, you hauled yourself up onto the chair, patting for Tom to sit back down.

“It’s half an hour and then I’ll sort myself out at lunch - come on their waiting.” The way Lucy pouted showed she disagreed somewhat, except a stern look kept her from protesting, as Tom walked toward you.

“Are you sure you don’t loo-“

“Let me stop you before you insult my appearance.” Snickering slightly at his worried face, you laughed it off , knocking his side with a gentle murmur of ‘don’t worry about me’.

In fact after that little episode you did feel a little recovered, which meant you were properly noticing the change in the boy sat next to you. Throughout the remaining three interviews he’d done a complete 360 from earlier. Rather than trying to get little digs at you, he had become fiercely protective - jumping in if a questions wasn’t particularly appropriate or relevant to the movie ( meaning when an awfully crap man asked what underwear you’d been able to wear in your suit) ; taking the heat of the conversation as well as just watching you like a hawk. Each time you answered his beady brown eyes were watching you from the side, you got the impression it wasn’t only just because of the risk of spoilers.

Quite remarkably, you survived the rest of the day pretty well, after a power nap in the car on the way over - even if it was a bit difficult when you had your manager watching you like a hawk from the seat across. It was as if Lucy had never seen anyone ill before, she seemed concerned that you were going to spontaneously stop breathing and die at any point.

Though by the time all the official business at the dinner was done, your body and willpower had reached the end of their tether. You and Tom were both on a round table, surrounded by 6 CEOs and execs of what seemed to be a multimillion pound business enterprise. With the language barrier meaning you had to speak through the two people on the table who were fluent in both japanese and English, the conversation was already pretty jilted. Though to be fair, the six did seem to be enjoying the evening - something you werent able to reciprocate. Thankfully, five minutes after the main course dishes had been collected, Tom spoke up from his position opposite you.

“This has been lovely and we really appreciate your time and generosity but me and Y/n have a really early start tomorrow so I think we should probably get back to the hotel.” You swore in that moment you could’ve kissed him, and it looked like Tom could tell - by the way your shoulders sagged and you let out an exhale of pure relief. Apparently even if you’d managed to convince the hosts you were enjoying the evening, Tom easily saw through the performance. After some hurried goodbyes, Tom led you out of the hall with his hand hovering over your lowerback, trying to make sure your exit was as discreet as possible.

Away from the bubble of chatter and activity, in the deserted hallway, Tom stopped you - lightly holding both hands on each of your arms.

“Wheres your team?”

“Um Luce is back at the hotel, she was trying to see if she could reschedule any of my stuff tomorrow.” You winced at the way he sighed, realising you were all on your own in some random business event hall in Tokyo.

“Harry -my brother- is waiting in the car at the front - is that okay?”

“No Tom, don’t worry abo-“

“Yeh well I am and I think you feel ten times worse than you’re letting on.” He spoke harshly, like a school teacher telling you off - except the hint of a kind smile at the end was a dead giveaway.

“You sure?”

With a relieved nod (Tom had thought you might be a bit more stubborn - you obviously were really really ill) he wordlessly shrugged his suit jacket off, wrapping it round your shoulders. He muttered something about not wanting you to catch a chill but to be quite honest you were a bit distracted by the woody cedar smell of Toms aftershave that enveloped your senses. Maybe it wasn’t so bad being fussed on by him? To be fair he wasn’t wrong either, you were in a strapless evening dress - you would’ve preferred to be in joggers, but Marvels press team had other ideas.

After a quick pit stop at the toilets, the two of you managed to make an unnoticed escape out the building - into a big SUV which had seconds prior pulled up onto the steps. You literally melted into the nearest window seat, body hunching over as you probably crumpled Tom’s jacket beyond belief. 2 seats along from you, a frizzy haired boy gave you a sympathetic smile, which you returned weakly whilst muttering a ‘hi’. Meanwhile, Tom pulled the sliding door shut, sitting across from you.

“Oh Y/n this is Harry and Harry this is Y/n.” In unison both of you replied with an ‘I know’ eye roll. Your response was somewhat more shocking to both Holland boys, you could tell from the way they had this whole nonverbal conversation with their eyes - they were very clearly brothers. Needing to explain you continued. “I like to keep tabs on my castmates, I’ve seen you on Toms instagram.” That had both boys smirking, Harry presumably just because you knew who he was; Tom more smugly, you’d just given away you slightly stalked him on instagram.

Silence reigned for a moment, as the driver put his foot down slightly.

“How you doing?” Tom asked.

“Mhm…” you thought for a second, how to eloquently describe the sensation.

“shit.”

Both boys chuckled a little and even though you had closed your eyes in an attempt to dull the throbbing behind your temples, you could feel the eyes on you.

“You want the music off?” Harry asked, referring to the indie-rock coming quietly out the speakers of his laptop, which was resting on his lap. With a shake of your head you refused, even if really silence probably would help your head, you were already causing the two Hollands enough trouble - no need to bore them during the journey back into central Tokyo, especially when you weren’t the most enthusiastic company ever.

Thankfully the music stayed on a low volume, whilst the car seemed to settle into a comfortable silence. With a long exhale you fluttered your eyes open, seeing Tom focused on his phone, before you rested the side of your head against the black-out glass. Taking some relief from the cool glass, you huddled further into the corner of the car against the door.

Floating in the space between sleep and wakefulness, you were kind of aware of your head occasionally bobbing and jerking about - but really didn’t have the energy or willpower to do anything about it. Instead, the thing that perked your attention was hearing some supposed-whispering from inside the body of the car.

“I know she said she didn’t care but she was clearly lying-“

“Like you know! You’ve been desperate to try and spend some time with Y/n- maybe you poisoned her just so you could be all knight-in-shini-“

“Turn. The. Music. Off.” Tom sounded scathing now, and with a grumble from your other-side the cheery drum beats ceased.

“Happy now?” …and Harry was sarcastic.

“Swap places with me.”

“What?”

“Just do it.”

“Why?”

“So she can lie down.”

“Well no because you would still be in the way if we swapped.”

“Yeh but she can lie on my lap idiot.”

“She can lie on me.”

“She doesn’t know you!”

“Well for 1, barely ten minutes ago she said she did know me. And 2, she doesn’t know you any better!”

If this was their version of whispering, you would love to hear what volume ‘shouting’ was. There was no reply for a short while, you imagined the two brunettes locked in some intense staring match.The next time Tom spoke he sounded more defeated - almost begging.

“If I admit you beat me at the driving range the other day will you-”

“I KNEW IT!” Harry yelped, the volume making you jerk, eyes flying open before reflexively closing because the light was too bright. There was a little mutter of an apology, then silence again.

Once agin you must’ve drifted off because it felt like absolutely no time had passed when a firm but gently hand on your shoulder nudged you awake.

Sure enough the boys had swapped position, Tom now sitting along the seat from you, Harry looked a little sulky from across the way. It was Tom who was reaching over, a gentle and peaceful smile on his face.

“You wanna lie down? Don’t want you to strain your neck.” He wasn’t wrong, adding to the throbbing headache, the cloudiness in your brain and the unsettled feeling in your stomach… now your neck hurt. Just bloody great.

Had you been your normal witty and perceptive self, you might’ve teased Tom as to why him and his brother had done a switch - but everything hurt and all you wanted to do was sleep for a hundered years. So with squinting eyes you jerkily nodded, missing how Tom chuckled to himself. The guy undid your seatbelt, then sat back to let you balance the back of your head on his thigh, looking up at the roof of the SUV. Already your eyes were closed again, you kicked off your slip-on heels and bent your legs up to lean against the backrest - occupying the position you had been sat in before hand. You felt his hands reposition the jacket, pulling it round so it was now like a blanket tucked under your chin.

To be fair it was much more comfortable than sitting up and you weren’t even aware of how quickly you dropped back into sleep.

Though it wasn’t quick enough to miss Harry’s very sulky sounding comment, presumably meant only for Tom’s ears.

“Still think you’re being fucking creepy bro.”

<33 lemme know what u think! (would make me feel less guilty for not doing all the work I rlly should be doing aha)

tagging : @hallecarey1 @crossyourpeter @hollandfanficlove

#tom holland x reader #tom holland #tom Holland angst #tom Holland fluff #tom holland x you #tom holland x y/n #tom holland x actress!reader #tom holland x famous!reader #harry holland #tom holland request

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