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queers-gambit · 2 years

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Bearer of Bad News

[ series masterlist ]

prompt: devastating news reaches your ears from an unlikely messenger.

pairing: Aemond Targaryen x Velaryon!wife!reader

fandom: House of the Dragon

word count: 7.2k+

warnings: spoilers, cursing, OC Aemond, author has a thing for pet names and making hardened men simps for their ladies. not really edited, angst, ambiguous ending because why not. ❗️major season one, episode ten spoilers

"Aemond, please listen to reason, and do not go," you begged your husband as you followed him around your room; hand to your freely-swelling belly firm as if to keep the small babe in place. "Please - I wish I could explain it but I fear for this message you are to carry."

"Hey, hey," Aemond paused in his venture to ready himself for his envoy trip to the Storm Lands; turning to take your hands in his. "Is that what this is about, my sweet? You know you are the love and light of my life," he smirked broadly as if to tease you, "and no Baratheon whore is going to change that. Hmm?"

"Do not remind me of your brother's vile proposal," you sneered, rolling your eyes away from his piercing gaze. "It was disrespectful, at best!"

He chuckled a bit, tugging you in so he could hold your waist. "Come now, my sweet wife. It is just a marriage pact for an alliance. What're the odds I will actually have to marry the broad? Hey?"

"You are not free to marry," you snapped.

"I am honored for the privilege to uphold our ancestral customs. More than one wife is a Targaryen tradition, my pet."

"Aemond."

He smirked deeper, "They are but silly words, my love. Who ever Lord Borros offers will not share my bed, nor affection, but only my name."

"Our name," you reminded, "for I am still your wife. I am carrying your Targaryen child, and you will show me respect."

"Of course, darlin'," he relented with a nod. "I meant no offense."

"And she would share our home, too, is it?"

He shrugged, "Perhaps Aegon will take interest in her."

"Oh, that's cruel."

"I do not know how to satisfy you, my love. Help me out here."

"Go back and refuse your brother because you are married to me, and that is enough!"

"They are just words," he sighed, leaning his forehead to yours as his hand cradled your cheek to keep you close. "Ease yourself, my love, please. 'S not good for the babe."

You huffed lightly, "Does not mean you should carry his message to Lord Borros. Please, Aemond, it storms there all the time and that can be dangerous, do not go. Just - do not leave me alone."

"I will only be gone a single day, my love," he promised with patience, leaning in to press his lips to yours. Long gone was his teasing smirk, seeing and feeling your genuine worry for his wellbeing and deciding it was better to comfort your pregnancy-brain.

Helaena had warned Aemond that once with child, the mind kinda slips, but it is not to be held against the woman for it is just a symptom of creating life in their belly.

"Then will you do me a favor?"

"Hmm?"

"Take Kasta, please."

"Oh, my sweet girl," he chuckled now. "I cannot take your dragon, she is yours, and she still grows. She is not suited for this trip, okay? Worry not, Vhagar will protect and serve me well."

You sighed sadly, "Well, when you've an answer for everything, 'tis a bit hard to be upset."

"You're just worried," he sighed, nodding in understanding. "Hear me, please, my sweet wife. There is nought a thing for you to worry over, there is nothing of concern."

"Well, what if my mother sends an envoy?"

"What if she does?"

"What will you do?"

"Out of respect only for you, I will not engage," he smirked, placating you. "I am eager to return, we might continue to celebrate our child."

"That sounds so strange, my love," you pouted lightly, making him crack a brief smile. "How am I to ensure you are safe? What if I went with you on Kasta?"

"Not a chance in all Seven Hells," he laughed, pecking your forehead twice. "Oh, I love you dearly, my pet, but I am not letting you fly into Storms End - even with a loyal beast like Kasta."

You huffed lightly, "Then take me yourself on Vhagar."

"You are the Princess," he shook his head with a whisper, "and my beloved wife - I will not risk you in any capacity."

"Fine!" You rolled your eyes, pecking his lips before finally pulling back to drop onto the bed - rubbing your swelling belly. "But what if you just didn't go? Hmm? You know?"

"No, pet. Not possible," he answered smoothly, as if he anticipated your words while continuing to ready himself. "What if you were in the Dragon Pit when I returned? So that you might see, as the first, that I am safe and well?"

You thought about it as Aemond pulled leather garb onto his body, smirking at you as he went. "Maybe..."

"Would you like to do my hair, my Princess?" He offered, holding a brush out for you. You snatched it up and grinned to yourself, easing him into a chair before starting on his locks. "Just keep it away from my face, pet. Got a long fly."

"I know how you like it," you smirked, leaning in to kiss his cheek and jaw. "Sit still please." He titled his head back to peck your lips, then settled to allow you to work.

Yet as he did, a hand was never far from you; pinching your hip or lingering near your elbow as you worked. He'd never admit it, but the Prince adore physical touch and often like to express himself through it; relying on most nonverbal communication. When you had his hair secured, you then fixed his eye patch on properly and sighed deeply to yourself, making your husband softly wonder, "What's on your mind, pretty girl?"

"I'll just miss you, I guess," you shrugged. "You truly must go?"

Helaena had also warned Aemond that pregnancy-brain can make some women clingy - though she did not experience it herself.

Prince Aemond sighed as he stood from his chair to hover over you - the damn bean stalk of a man - and held your waist tightly. "I will meet you in the Pit after," he promised. "Be there at sundown, yes?"

"Of course, my Prince," you promised in a whisper, ensuring the words were meant only for him. Trying to prove your love, you told him in High Valyrian, "I will wait for you forever, if I must. But do not make me."

He chuckled, "Oi, hey, watch it, my pretty wife. You know I can hardly resist when you get to talkin' in tongues."

You grinned against his lips, letting him pressing one, two, three more kisses in parting. "Be careful," you whispered, "and please come back to me."

"I will always do what I can to ensure that, sweet wife," he answered just as quietly, nodding sadly. "I must go..."

You sniffled, "All right. Go on, 's all right, love. Be careful in the Storm Lands, it's not named lightly."

Taking one last look at you, Aemond sighed and squeezed your hand, leaving you with his words, "Be in the Pit later."

You nodded, watching him stride towards the door, but something lurched in your stomach. "A-Aemond?" You call, jogging slightly after him. As if anticipating your movements, he turned swiftly and caught you in a tight embrace; letting his hand lock around the back of your neck to keep you steady as his nose pressed into the crook of your neck, inhaling deeply to commit your scent to memory.

He sighed, petting over your hair for a moment as you both savored the feeling of one another. When ready, you pulled back with tears shining in your eyes - but willed them not to fall. You knew it was silly to worry over him for a matter such as this, but you felt sickened by his departure, and prayed for his safety.

"No matter what is to come, know that I love you deeply," he swore quietly, petting over your chin with his calloused fingertips; foreheads resting together to keep proximity. "'S all right, it'll be all right, sweetheart."

"Just come home, and I will wish for little else."

He smirked some, "Pregnancy has made you soft, my wife. 'Tis a good look on you."

"Is it?"

"I adore it," he promised with a chuckle. "Now, kiss me, my pretty girl, and I will return by nightfall."

Surging onto your toes, your arms rose to let you hold onto your husbands neck; his lips finding yours in a passionate, frenzied dance. Just before the kiss grew sloppy, Aemond pressed his lips in meaningful, hardened affection - something you physically felt.

He had to pull back or else risk being tempted into staying; petting the side of your face before turning swiftly and slipping out the door. You heard his footsteps retreat down the hall and slowly claimed a seat on your shared bed - that had only just cooled from your warm bodies finding solace and peace in the sheets from the night.

You kept yourself busy for the whole day, trying not to wonder over Aemond's adventures. You took time to sit with Helaena for a bit, visiting with the twins; answering any of the girl's questions about your pregnancy. "You've grown," she cocked her head softly, eyes set on your belly.

"Oh," you smiled a bit, nodding to the newly-crowned Queen, "yes, it seems the babe grew overnight, and only after I could tell the news."

"He's listening," Helaena nodded. "Like he knows."

You chuckled a bit, laying an affectionate hand to your belly to rub slightly. "Yes, I imagine so, sometimes. Though, between you and me," you lowered your tone to lean in, telling her, "I wager it's a girl."

"Really?" Your sister-by-law asked with intrigue. "How special!"

You hummed and nodded, going back to mindless embroidery as the twins played on the floor near your feet. As usual, the Queen stitched a new bug, but you weren't sure of your design because you continued to fall distracted, leaving your pallet a mess of tangled colorful thread. You tried to play it off, but for the rest of the day, you worried for your husband.

Whether pacing the gardens or pacing your bedchambers, you could not remain still as both your back and stomach knotted themself in stress. You could barely be spoken to the whole day, and come the evening meal, your step-mother, the Queen Regent, Alicent Hightower, was reaching for your hand. "Are you alright, dearest girl? You've barely touched your meal this evening."

You nodded stiffly, "Of course I'm alright."

She sighed knowingly, "I did not like it, either, you should know."

"What might that be, Your Grace?"

"Well, for one, Aegon sending Aemond away to parlay with the Baratheons, and offering his hand to any of his daughters."

You sighed, obediently replying, "The King can do as he pleases."

She sighed, muttering, "Not always. I told him he had no right in offering his brother's hand, but he would not hear me. What of Aemond's reaction?"

"To the Prince, Your Grace, they are but pitiful words that he does not mean," you answered, pushing a bit of stewed vegetables around your plate. "To me? They are unjustly cruel and wittingly disrespectful."

She nodded in agreement, "Worry not, dear girl, I will speak to Aegon, and we will design a new strategy for loyalty."

You half-smiled, glancing across the table to the 'King'. You knew your mother was the rightful heir but considering your position amongst the Greens, you wanted to tread as neutrally as possible. Tearing your eyes away from the boy-playing-King, you tried to focus on your meal but how could you when the sun was set in place to sink?

After asking for leave once stomaching three bites of your meal, that Alicent permitted with a soft kiss to your cheek, you stood from the table, gave a short curtsy to the King, nodding to the Queen, and turned on your heel to escape the dining quarters. When alone in your chambers, you were swift to swing a hooded cloak onto your shoulders; hiding your trademark silver locks, and slipping out of the secret passage your room hosted.

Early one night in your marriage, Aemond had shown you - and together, you were pretty sure you had only found half of the Red Keep's secret passages. Yet this was all you needed, jogging through the stronghold to pass onto the darkening street, and head for the Dragon Pit.

Upon arriving, your hair was the only confirmation guards needed to let you pass, and when you got there, Aemond had yet to arrive. With worry, you paced by your dragon's keep and Kasta watched you with curiosity burning in her eyes. She huffed a few times, making you pause to nuzzle her snout - but she grew larger by the day, and it was harder to offer her affectionate cuddles.

She wasn't the size of Vhagar, but something akin to Meleys, or the Red Queen, that had last been seen when smashing the Dragon Pit to shit during Aegon's coronation. The only reason you were bitter about it all was because, for one, you did not think of it, and two, Princess Rhaenys did not take out Alicent and the Greens when she had the chance. You worried not for yourself, for fire cannot kill a dragon, but when the Princess only turned the Red Queen away and soared out of the closing-Pit, you couldn't help but feel mildly disappointed.

Kasta heard it before you did, but a moment after the large, emerald green dragon picked her head up in alarm, you heard the echoing roar of Vhagar returning. Kasta cocked her head and snorted as she stood to her feet, taking only three steps so she stood completely over you protectively.

"It's Vhagar and Aemond, my love," you spoke softly in your Mother's Tongue. "Not to worry."

But the dragon did not back down, and in fact, let steam billow out of her nostrils. Being one of the larger beasts, your dragon was housed with Vhagar and Meleys, but after the Red Queen's departure, Kasta was left alone today... Making you wonder why she was overly protective in that moment.

You tried to chalk it up to you being pregnant and like Aemond, Kasta only wanted to keep you close to ensure your safety. But when your knees buckled some under the tremor of Vhagar's landing, you wondered if you were imagining things, or if the dragon's movements felt much... Shakier.

Kasta growled when you tried to move and with a squeak, you were wrapped in her heaving paw, being drug back under her stoic form. "Kasta!" You reprimanded sharply. "He's my husband, there is no - " But you gasped when Vhagar gave a mighty roar from within the Pit - sand and dirt trembling from the cracked walls from sheer vibration. Kasta raised her head when you took a step back to feel her breast at your head.

When the thundering steps of Vhagar was heard, your dragon bared her teeth in threat - and you suddenly worried for your position. It was obvious tension ran high and if your other-wise very sweet and docile dragon was riled up, you worried she could smell something alarming on Vhagar. But she kept her paw close to you in a cradle, as if to keep you at bay and under her protection.

"Aemond?" You called when you heard someone grunt and pant from down the way; the echo of the Pit proving useful in this moment.

"Love? That you?"

You tried to step out, but Kasta growled and slammed her arm in front of you to prevent your departure. "Oh, Kasta! Not now!"

But you only earned a threatening growl in return.

"What's happening?" Aemond's voice called, his body appearing at the mouth of your dragon's alcove - taking a step back when her large, emerald head whipped around to glower at him. "Is something wrong?" He asked you, cautious of the dragon growling at him. "The baby?"

"Baby's fine, but I was hoping you could tell me what was wrong," you sighed, stroking over your dragon's hide of her inner arm. "Kasta went on the defense the moment she heard Vhagar. Why would that be, husband?"

But you didn't expect Aemond to stiffen, lifting his gaze up and away from you.

"Aemond?" You wondered gently, trying to steer his attention towards you from behind your dragon's arm. "My love, are you all right? What's happened?" The term of endearment from your desperate lips made your husband flinch, turning away from you in full, and making you snap, "Aemond Targaryen, you tell me what's happened - now!"

Kasta gave a guttural growl when your temper spiked. It made your long, silver haired husband pause. When he turned to look at you again, you could see the few tears falling down his cheeks and knew it was not beads of water dripping from his still-sopping hair. Your dragon stepped out when you did, keeping her body between you both and Vhagar - something you noticed acutely.

"Did something happen with Vhagar, my love? Are you injured?" You asked as you finally approached him, but Aemond uncharacteristically flinched away from your hands as you tried to reach for him. "What's this? What's happened? Are you hurt?"

"I..." He took a breath, tears brimming in his violet eye to fall helplessly down his pale, sunken cheek. "I did not mean for it to happen, love..."

"Okay," you nodded patiently. "So, there was an accident?"

"In a way," he relented, breathing out tautly before leaning to a wall and sliding down it - the look of despair and dejection etched on his face. You slowly approached him. "When I tell you what has happened, I will lose you, too. You will leave, and I will be unable to stop you - but you've got to know how bloody sorry I am."

"Aemond," you sighed. "You're starting to frighten me, my love. What's happened? Please tell me, are you hurt?"

"I'm not hurt... But you said so long as I returned here, to you, you could not ask for anything else, right?" He asked breathlessly, watching you nod as you slowly lowered yourself beside him; facing him so you could watch his face. "Does that still stand... If I've made a terrible mistake that will effect you, too?"

You sighed, "All right. Hey," you nodded, reaching for his trembling, freezing cold hand, "you can do a lot in this lifetime, Aemond Targaryen, but very little will shake the foundation of love that we have. What has happened that's so bad, hmm?"

He whispered, "Might've... Potentially started the war..."

You sighed sadly, sat in the sand, "Oh, Aemond... C'mon, love, you were just to carry a message to Lord Baratheon."

"I know."

"So, how is it you potentially started the war? Hmm?" You shuffled closer to him, trying not to let your heart shrivel from the way he visibly recoiled. "The hell's going on? This isn't like you - we're a team, Aemond. Why're you shutting me out? See - this is in part why I wanted to go, then you'd have no need to explain anything."

He nodded mutely, taking a staggering breath in that worried you more. Aemond didn't often show regret, but here, before you now, it was obvious the young Prince was drowning in it.

"Aemond, please, you're worrying me, my love," you whispered, trying to warm his hands in yours. But still, he could not meet your eyes, and his hands were deadly limp.

"I don't know where to start," his voice crackled into a whisper.

"From the beginning, please," you nodded, readjusting slightly to better look at him. "Sweetheart, just take your time, but please, do not shut me out. I cannot help you if I do not know what plagues you."

In a broken whisper, he admitted, "Once I tell you, you won't think to call me sweetheart - or sweet anything, again. Gods," he breathed, chuckled without humor, "I did not think I would miss something so much but the idea of never hearing you call me a pet name again sends my stomach to my feet."

"My Lord husband is a sweet man," you slowly reached for his face, caressing his jaw so he looked at you, "though perhaps only I get the pleasure of bearing witness to it," you whispered in return, letting your thumb caress his skin. "I will be the judge of what name befits him, for I am the one calling him. But I will need to know what startles him so. I will need to know so I can try to help him through his grief."

He blinked a few times, but your image became blurred as emotion coated his throat, "Please, just... Do not leave me after you know."

Though Aemond might not have felt true, gut-wrenching guilt over what had become of the young Prince Luke, he feared telling you, and feared what would happen once you knew. He knew that he could not, nor would he want to, stop you from fleeing the capital. And after today, the least he could do is assist smuggling you out. The very idea made his stomach clench; where he once planned a future with you and your child, now, his mind flashed with the idea of helping you get back to your mother.

Speaking of, he was jarred into reality by your voice asking, "Did you kill my mother?"

"No," he spoke swiftly.

"Then there is little to worry over," you sighed. "Less you killed my little brothers, then, that is... Different...?" You trailed off when his head hit the wall behind him, restraining the emotion from his face as he kept his head tilted to the side in an effort to avoid you. "Aemond? Hey, look at me, please... Please, Aemond, did something happen? Has something happened to my brothers?"

His hands trembled in yours, his throat croaking, "Yes."

You had to pause, trying to keep a level head. "All right, well, is that the accident you speak of?"

"It is..."

"This is... The accident you caused that's potentially started the war?"

"I'm so sorry," he whispered.

"Answer me, Aemond, please. Is this the accident you speak of that has caused the start of the war? Speak plainly."

Your husband paused to swallow thickly, finally admitting, "Yes. I-It is, my love."

You let out a staggering breath that refused to ease itself. You felt panic overwhelming your chest as worst case scenarios played themselves out in your mind, vaguely feeling Aemond reaching for you as panic took over. His words were muffled seemingly beneath water, leaving you staggering for rational thought and breath. Yet none would come to you - could come to you. Your husband had managed control of your weeping form, turning to switch places; leaving you pressed to the wall as he tried to coach you through your interrupted-breathing.

When the initial shock wore off, your hands were gripping his biceps tightly, demanding, "What happened? What did you do? Please, please, Aemond, you're the - you're the only one. The only one who knows the truth. Please, tell me in full, and tell me in truth - what happened to my brothers?"

He nodded, whispering, "It's not going to be easy to hear, my love."

"I need to," you argued, tugging the sleeve of his squeaky-wet leather jerkin. "Tell me, please, I deserve to know. W-What has become of my baby brothers, Aemond? Please tell me! I have a right!"

He nodded, eye tinged red from emotion, admitting, "I arrived in Storms End before your mother's envoy. I brought the King's words but then came reports of another dragon heading in our direction... So, we waited," he swallowed thickly.

"Who was it? Who did my mother send?"

He sighed, "Luke."

"Gods," you whispered, nodding as you sniffled. "So, Luke arrives, and what?"

"I let my anger get the best of me, pet..."

= Storms End // hours prior =

"Where's the bloody Maester!?" Lord Borros demanded, glaring to his court as a man bowed and rushed away to retrieve the one man who could read Rhaenyra's letter.

Aemond did not lift his murderous gaze from Prince Luke's form, making the 14-year-old boy wrap his fist around the hilt of his sword. The Maester jogged into the courtroom, and yet, the Prince did not lift his violet eye from the boy; standing curiously beside a woman with dark hair - assuring the Prince this was one of Borros Baratheon's daughters. Luke found this curious, knowing Aemond was married to his white-haired sister... So, why was he found in low conversation with the pretty Lady Baratheon?

The Maester read the Black Queen Rhaenyra's words, glancing at Luke, before bending at the waist to mutter to Lord Borros the letter's contents. When the words registered, the Baratheon Lord was snarling, "'Remind' me of my father's oath." Thunder rumbled around them. "King Aegon at least came with an offer: my swords and banners for a marriage pact." He looked pointedly to Aemond and his daughter, making Prince Luke's jaw clench. The Lord leaned forward on his 'throne', snarling, "If I do as your mother bids..." His head turned to regard the remaining three daughters left lined up, "Which one of my daughters will you wed... Boy?"

"My Lord... I am not free to marry. I am already betrothed, and by all accounts, Prince Aemond is married to my sister, the Princess Y/N Velaryon."

"She's a Targaryen Princess now, boy, and you should know," Aemond smirked from across the hall, "that taking more than one wife is an honored familial custom."

Borros continued before any more retaliation could be spat, noting to Luke, "So, you come with empty hands. Go home, pup. And tell your Mother that the Lord of Storm's End is not some dog that she can whistle up at need to set against her foes."

Aemond found the response rather poised, decently poetic.

Luke decided to take the diplomatic route and respond, "I shall take your answer to the Queen, my Lord."

Aemond smirked at the response, watching the kid turn to depart the Storm's End hall - but could not resist the confrontation, and called, "Wait..." And when Luke turned, Aemond continued, "My Lord Strong." He watched for a baited reaction, and when Luke turned with anger marring his young features, stalking forward again, Aemond could not hold his tongue any longer. "Did you really think that you could just fly about the realm trying to steal my brother's throne at no cost?"

The boy steeled his feet, understanding that he was being baited now. "I will not fight you. I came as a messenger, not a warrior."

"A fight would be little challenge," Aemond taunted. "No," he decided, lips quirked in a smirk. Then, he reached to palm his eye patch off, revealing the gleaming sapphire he used as replacement, "I want you to put out your eye." He paused a moment to stare at the boy, who looked startled from the reveal, then continuing, "As payment for mine." When Luke appeared purely startled, Aemond finished, "One will serve."

He pulled his dagger from his belt and tossed it towards the Prince; letting it clatter to the stone floor in an ominous echo.

"I would not blind you, the only curtesy I would extend on behalf of my sweet wife," Aemond spoke levelly, a clap of thunder punctuating his words. The look of fear over Luke's face was enough to make his blood sing, but still, it wasn't all he wanted, so, he told the boy after tisking his tongue, "Plan to make a gift of it to my mother."

You fucking Mama's boy, Luke raged in his head.

"No," he decided to speak instead, his voice firm in refusal despite the want to crack from pressure.

Aemond spoke over the rumblings of the storm that raged outside, "Then you are craven as well as a traitor."

"Not here!" Lord Borros demanded, seeing the challenge brew to a knew height - and fearing for the rumors surrounding the One Eyed Prince. He knew the other rumors surrounding the loss of his eye, but while many circulated, each had to do with the Princess Rhaenyra's two dark-haired sons.

The tension was nearly tangible.

Something in Aemond snapped, crackled, and popped out of his heart - sending him surging forward as he cried, "Give me your eye, or I will take it, bastard!"

He stooped expertly to snatch up his dagger, standing tall as Luke armed himself with his sword, and the Lord of Storms End rose from his chair, shouting, "Not in my hall!" Only then did Aemond come to a halt, giving Luke a real up-close look at the damage he inflicted as a small child, in defense of his brother and cousins. "The boy came as an envoy!" Borros reminded them all. "I'll not have blood shed beneath my roof. Take Prince Lucerys back to his dragon." Thunder clapped, lightning flashed. "Now."

When the four knights who escorted him into the hall moved into action, Luke sheathed his sword, offered his uncle one last stale look, and departed the hall - with another glance over his shoulder as he went. Aemond let his lips pull into a smirk, and his fingers deftly flipped his branded dagger back into its sheath at his hip.

= present // the Dragon Pit =

"All right," you sighed, sitting with Aemond beside you, hip on hip, thigh against thigh, and his arm laid over the seam of your legs and let both of yours hold his. "So, you lost your temper and threatened the boy. Hardly material that would start battles."

"I didn't get to the worst part..."

You sighed, "Does it explain the dragon's odd behavior?"

"I think," he whispered, pressing his lips over your forehead. "I don't think I can tell you more."

"You're going to have to," you sighed. "Though, by the pain it causes you, Gods, do I wish anyone else could explain it. But you know what really happened, my love. I need the truth of the matter."

"You'll get it," he promised, "I just need a moment... Where you don't hate me in full."

"Aemond," you tisked in worry. "Please stop making that assumption. I need the truth, I need the details - you're owed fair judgement. And now, unless Vhagar decides to start talking, only you can tell me. Borros won't, and I imagine the dragons are involved - or Kasta would not be so defensive."

He nodded mutely, leaning in to inhale the top of your head. "I'm truly sorry... Let me start there. A-And it wasn't my intention to hurt anyone, I only wanted t-to frighten the boy. I could not have my revenge for myself, but I wasn't satisfied in it all."

"Might I say something?"

He nodded, glancing at you once before fearing for the intensity behind your eyes. "Your eye, or lack thereof, has never once taken away from you. I know the ridicule you endured, my love, and I am truly sorry for it, and while I cannot undo years of torment and trauma, please understand that I do not find you lacking. I love you, Aemond, with or without your eye."

He sighed and let his hand drift to pull your knees in; letting you lean into his lap in an effort to be closer. "I know neither of us wanted to marry the other initially, but Gods, have I been grateful for it - for you. I need you to know that I do love you, and I am so fucking sorry."

You sighed. "All right, you're sorry, we love each other, we're on the same page. Only... You seem to know what happened, and I cannot help you yet. But for whatever it's worth, while I wish you hadn't, I understand your want for revenge. I am sorry for what my brothers did, and the price you paid."

He sighed against your forehead, "I am sorry for what I did today."

"Let me pass judgement, my love."

With a heavy sigh, Aemond delivered the final, devastating blow. "It was storming profusely - wind, rain, and thunder. The whole lot, making it terrible to see in... Luke had escaped on Arrax but he was tense, flying sporadically, and I know this because Vhagar and I pursued them. I only meant to scare him and give chase, and he was smart enough to dive for the canyons. Vhagar is too big to follow, so, we lost him for a time..."

= Storm Lands // hours prior =

Vhagar stretched her wings to their full span as she and her master flew over the canyon; both searching for the boy riding the terribly small (by comparison), paler dragon. Over the howling winds, sideways rain, and clapping thunder, Aemond called in High Valyrian, "You owe a debt! Boy!"

But there was no visibility, and soon, the thick storm clouds swallowed them whole. Aemond still looked from side to side, and perhaps, his dragon had understood his words; because in the next few moments, everything went perfectly wrong. Having used the clouds and raging storm to their advantage, Arrax and Luke had technically been in the clear, but the smaller dragon rebelled first.

Over the winds, Aemond heard Luke shouting in High Valyrian, "No, Arrax!" The next second, a blast of fire shot out from the pale dragon and seared into the neck, jaw, and face of the much larger dragon of war. The challenge was set, and Aemond heard his nephew as they flew away, "No, Arrax! Obey me!"

But Vhagar had accepted the challenge, and there was no controlling the wild beasts. Aemond felt the shift as his dragon roared with her temper flaring, understanding she meant to pursue, and begged her, "NO! No, no, no, no!" The ancient dragon turned, roaring with challenge. "NO, Vhagar! No! Serve me, Vhagar! No!"

The largest dragon known to the Targaryen world then dove off at a sharp angle, ignoring all commands her rider gave; leaving him struggling and dangling from his saddle as the storm swallowed them. In return, Arrax flew upwards with Luke; breaking through the dark clouds to reach the air above the storm, and for a brief moment, found the beauty in the bright sun above the clouds.

He looked around with heaving breath, praying to the Seven that they had evaded and gotten away from Vhagar - just seconds before the legendary beast was breaking out from the storm clouds to cut at another angle. When she did, she was in line with Arrax, and just as the young Prince Luke gave a shriek of fright, the pursing dragon had opened her jaws and swiftly chomped over the entire body of Arrax.

"VHAGAR!" Aemond's voice cracked with pure panic, feeling powerless on his dragon-mount. "No! No!" He muttered between clenched teeth when the truth of reality settled over him. Vhagar gave another bellow into the air, rightening her wings, and letting Aemond glance over her shoulder to spy the last bloody bits of Arrax' wings and tail-tip falling to the ground below.

As his head turned forward, Aemond's eye began to blink rapidly to restrain his immediate panic - fearing for the repercussions of his dragon, and how his loss of control was sure to be his fault.

= present // the Dragon Pit =

Your lungs protested for air as your heart felt like it was snapping in two, body numb as you could not believe the words that reached your ears. You had doubled over to cry into your pulled-in knees, sobbing helplessly as you rocked slightly to try and keep blood pumping. Your mind refused to accept your baby brother was dead and gone, but your mind screamed that your husband had killed him.

Yet you couldn't feel yourself anymore.

All you could understand was pain. Suffocating confusion.

And then, outrage set in.

"Why?" You demanded through your tears. "Why? Why would you fucking do this, Aemond? Oh, my God - what were you thinking!?"

"I do not know," he mourned quietly. "I am so sorry."

"He was a child," you wept, shaking there after when realization sunk in. "O-Oh, my God, I-I'm pregnant - t-the-they will - they will seek revenge through o-our children. Aemond, for all the Gods, wh-what have you done? What has Vhagar done?"

"The worst we can imagine," he admitted, tears streaming down his cheek. "I cannot express my guilt, my wife."

"For what?" You couldn't help but snap. "Because you fear for the rift it will put between us, or because you are truly sorry for the loss of your own nephew?"

Aemond nodded, whispering, "What if it is both?"

You whined and dropped your head back to your knees and arms. Kasta was heard growling when your sobs reached her, but she did not dare move from between you and Vhagar. It was like she could smell Luke's blood on Vhagar's lips and teeth, and she wanted to protect you from the discovery.

But you had begged Aemond to tell you the truth. You wanted to know... He warned you of the pain, and you still pushed.

And now you were left with the knowledge that your husband's dragon had eaten your baby brother. Luke: sweet, sweet Luke who could do no real harm - barring his adrenaline rush years ago when he used his brother's dagger to slash Aemond's eye out.

Barring that, and he was the sweetest boy who could do no harm!

You were confused and mortified, outraged, sad, overwhelmed, but so fucking regretful. Regret for not being there for him longer, and then guilt for leaving your little brothers. Never had you wanted the burden your mother bore, and luckily, after your marriage to Aemond, she focused 100% of her energy into grooming Jace as her heir.

And Luke was to be heir of Driftmark, the next (legitimate) Lord of the Tides! He was to learn to command a ship and once the Sea Snake was able, he'd learn the ways of the seas from the very best. He was a child who had his whole life ahead of him, leaving behind an older sister, unborn niece-or-nephew, young fiancé, older brother... Loving mother, devoted step-father.

All of whom would be devastated by this news.

How cruel this world was, and how cruel the Gods could be.

"Please," Aemond begged softly.

"What am I to do, Aemond?" You demanded, staring back at him with a range of emotion playing across your face. "My baby brother, Aemond, what am I to do?"

He shook his head, offering, "If you wish to leave, I will not stop you. I understand how this must make you feel and I would help you and Kasta get out best I can - "

"Aemond?" You snapped. "Am I to understand that you are to be away with me?"

He shook his head slightly, "Why would you stay?"

You scoffed, "Does my loyalty to you mean nothing? Why do you think I did not join Princess Rhaenys when she escaped? And stood on that fucking platform beside you, while they crowned your traitorous brother? Do you think so little of me?"

"But this is different," he argued, ignoring your insult.

"It is! It's much different! And I am devastated, heartbroken, and I would think my husband would want to support me - "

"Do you even want me, anymore?" He asked, brows crinkled as he wore desperation well.

"I am bound to you for life, I took vows... Whether I like it or not, my place has been, and is now, at your side. Your brother would sooner see me dead if I were to flee now - "

"I would never let him hurt you," Aemond insisted, letting his hand hold your cheek securely. "Should you wish to return to your mother's side, I understand, and at the least, I can make sure you get out of the city."

You let your lips roll between your teeth to bite for a moment, then spoke softly as you reached up to hold his wrist, "I am unsure what to feel or do. In a perfect world, what would you see us do now?"

"I never would've taken Vhagar out after Luke," he spoke, "so that we never would have to be here."

"Well, we cannot change the fact that your dragon disobeyed you, right?" He nodded stiffly. "You did not have control, did you?"

"I swear to all the Gods - Old and New - that I did not have control and that I tried to stop her best I could. Both Arrax and Vhagar broke free of our control, did their own bidding. Arrax only wanted to protect his master, and so did Vhagar after the fire..."

"So," you sniffled, eyes red and puffy to slowly pull his hand down to hold in his lap, "we can place no real blame on you... Save for your foolish and fucking childish pursuit that started all of it," you sighed, leaning back into the wall and closing your eyes. "Your dragon ate my brother, Aemond."

"I know..."

"She... Ate him," you repeated, knowing the words stung but for a moment, you wanted him to hurt as you did. "There is no body for us to burn! Nothing for us to mourn!"

"I know," he whispered again, leaning back to the wall beside you.

"What am I to do?" You begged, tears falling helplessly. "If I leave you now or ever, I will be a traitor to you and your family, but if I weren't to return to my mother's side, I would be branded a traitor to her and her allies. Please, Aemond. I don't know what to do."

He sighed, sniffling, "I do not know... But should you choose to stay, I promise not to abandon you. I wouldn't ever leave your side, I would be the husband who deserves a wife like you. It would be my duty to make sure your life is easier as you bring life into this world."

You nodded as you wrapped an arm around your swelling belly, "I'd really like for our kid to know their father."

Aemond sighed, pausing for a moment before admitting, "I'd like our child to know our love - not the deception my mother and brother show their spouses."

You nodded, leaning into his shoulder, "I'd like that, too."

"I need to ask the impossible of you, my love," he whispered into the top of your head. "And know that I am sorry for the pain it will cause."

You sighed in defeat and snipped, "Just ask it."

"Would you... Would you please stay?"

The silence almost echoed around you both; his question hanging in the air only to be punctuated by a warning growl from Kasta, watching a shifting Vhagar move for her alcove with the intention of rest. Your eyes flashed in the bright torchlight, and Aemond watched as tears filled them to slide silently down your cheeks. Then he turned his head, and caught sight of a splatter of blood on his dragon's lips, chin, and chest. The silence prolonged around her thundering steps.

[ series masterlist ]

#aemond targaryen #prince aemond #aemond the kinslayer #aemond targaryen x reader #aemond targaryen x fem!reader #aemond targaryen imagine #aemond hotd #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd x reader #hotd imagine

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sparklingchim · 2 years

Text

long way home 21 | jjk

pairing: jungkook x reader

word count: 2.7k

genre: dilf!jungkook, friends to lovers, angst

rating: pg

warnings: jaykay being a huge simp for miss oc, he ,,, licks her lip gloss off his face ???? 🥸 don't ask plis, them lowkey acting like a couple but it's all platonic guys !!!!! don't worry !!!! , sad gukkie in the end 😔, his broken heart </3 awakens the lil whore in him 😐

summary: the one where jungkook gives up.

a/n: talking bout this jungkook look in this chapter <3 without the bucket hat tho !!

chapters: 01 | 02 | 03 | 04 | 05 | 06 | 07 | 08| 09 | 10 | 11 | 12 | 13 | 14 | 15 | 16 | 17 | 18 | 19 | 20 | 21 | 22 | 23 | 24 | 25 | 26 |

masterlist | long way home masterlist

⭒☆━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━☆⭒

4 years ago

"You're early," you say as Jungkook slips out of his shoes in the hallway.

"Was bored at home so I figured I might as well come over." Jungkook bends down to gives you a peck on the cheek.

"So that's why I kept getting Snapchat notifications from you?"

He stops, leaning away from you. "You saw and ignored me ?" There's an accusatory pitch to his voice, the perfect complement to the frown that slowly contorts his features.

"I'm doing my make-up. I don't have time for your silly snaps," you huff and turn on your heels, heading back to the living room.

Tonight Jungkook, Namjoon, Seulgi and you were going to go clubbing. It's been a while since the last time you went out so you're excited...to get drunk.

You hop onto the little cushion you have placed in front of the coffee table. You've been sitting here for a while, doing your make-up while watching a kdrama on TV.

"They weren't silly. I was showing you my outfit." Jungkook follows you and sits down somewhere behind you on the couch.

You turn around. He's wearing a black t-shirt, plad shirt on top and a leather jacket. The tight, ripped jeans he is wearing accentuates Jungkook's muscular thighs and oh wow, the holes on both knees are big enough to get a glimpse of his thighs and...you actually have to gulp to think straight again.

"I like this," you point out, tugging at the plad shirt. Your voice seems a little thick so you turn back around again and busy yourself with putting on make-up to hide your flaming cheeks. You see a little grin playing on Jungkook's lips through the small mirror placed in front of you.

"You can change the channel if you want," you offer as you put on some (actually, a lot ) blush on your cheeks.

"I don't mind."

You furrow your brows. You look at Jungkook through the mirror and notice that he's still staring at you. "Came to watch me getting ready or what?"

Jungkook shrugs. "Better than lazing around at home alone."

"You should get yourself a girlfriend then."

Jungkook nudges your back with his foot. "You don't wanna spend time with me?"

"No but, you shouldn't feel lonely."

"But it's fine when I'm with you."

"What, so you wanna spend the rest of your life with me?"

"Well, yeah?" He says, like it's the most obvious thing in the world. As if he couldn't believe that you'd ever dare to ask him such a foolish question. "Obviously I am." Big round doe eyes watching you.

Instinctively, a smile flits across your face as you register Jungkook's sweet words.

"Kinda rude of you not to say anything back," Jungkook utters in the tiniest pout, mock offense leaking through this gentle voice.

"Just keep saying nice things like that and I'll consider spending my life with you."

"You act like I'm hardly being nice to you."

"You bailed on me yesterday," you remind him, grabbing the eyelash curler.

"I told you beforehand that I wasn't sure if I could make it."

"Had to get boba all by myself."

"You could've asked Seulgi?"

Yeah, you could've. But it wouldn't have been the same cause you wanted to go with him.

You don't say anything in return, focusing on making your lashes look longer.

"Watchu gonna wear?" Jungkook asks after a while, but you don't hear him. Well, yes you do actually hear him but you're in the midst of coating your lashes with mascara. Definitely not a good time to start a convo.

Jungkook pokes your side with his foot. "Jungkook," you whine and Jungkook snickers at the immediate pout that pushes at your lips.

"That's what you get for ignoring me."

You smudged the brush of your mascara on your eyelid. When you lean back from the mirror you can see how his smile has him scrunching up his nose and how he gloats over teasing you. Asshole.

"Go get me a cotton swab," you demand, tugging on Jungkook's pants to get him to stand up.

Jungkook pats your head when he brushes past you to get to the bathroom. You shoot daggers with your eyes when you feel his hand, the playful twinkle in his eyes not showing anything remotely close to remorse.

Seconds later he comes back with the cotton swab. "Want me to clean it?" He's standing next to your seated figure, looking hella tall as you look up at him.

"Need to wet it first," you answer, making a grab for the cotton swab, but Jungkook holds it out of your reach. "Huh?"

"Tongue out."

You blink.

What.

Jungkook clicks his tongue, sounding a tad bit annoyed when you don't proceed to do what he told you.

He pops one end of the swab in his mouth for a second and sits down on his knees in front of you, softly grabbing you by the chin to draw your face closer.

Your reaction to Jungkook's weird antics is a little slow - you only manage to squeak "ew" once the wet cotton touches your eyelid. Your fingers fly up to his wrist, though you don't stop him. You curl your fingers around him. "You're so disgusting." You wrinkle your nose.

"I'm just helping you." He mumbles the words to himself and you find it almost adorable how concentrated he is right now.

"Weirdo."

Jungkook tosses the cotton swab on the table after he's done. He remains seated next to you, leans back against the couch and plants his feet on the carpet.

You subtly sneak a peek at Jungkook, his ripped jeans rousing emotions in you that has your skin prickle with a thin layer of heat. Your best friend looks hot today.

Forcing your attention back to finish your make-up, you screw your lip gloss and brush the applicator over your lips. You cover the whole of your lips in the sparkling substance.

"What?" you ask when you see Jungkook staring at you applying lip gloss. You turn to him, holding the lip gloss close to his face. There's a faint dust of pink on his cheeks when you meet his eyes. "Want some?"

He shoves your wrist away.

"Tastes like cherry," you coax him, putting a little more on your lips before you smack your mouth for emphasis.

"I'll pass."

You screw the lip gloss shut and place it on the table.

"Are you ready soon? Namjoon's always on my ass when I'm running late."

"Yeah, just need to change," you reply, leaning on Jungkook's shoulders to get to your feet.

Padding to your bedroom you start to rid yourself of your clothes. You change your bra into a strapless one. Then you grab the black dress from your bed that you selected earlier and quickly change into it. It's a pretty dress you've recently bought. It has a straight neckline and is long-sleeved, but it only reaches mid-thigh and has a slit at the side.

You puff in frustration when you have trouble zipping up your dress.

"Jungkook?" you call him and try with impatient hands to close the zip yourself, but it's no use.

A few seconds later you hear his footsteps on the floor approaching your bedroom.

"What's wrong, baby?" he slowly opens the door and peers in with his head. His eyes are wide when he takes in your whole figure.

You show him the backside of your unzipped dress. "Help me, please."

Jungkook chuckles at your helpless state.

Soon you feel his hand gently pushing your hair to one side of your shoulder. He zips up your dress in a matter of seconds. You don't wanna complain, but feeling his hands on you felt nice. Made you feel fuzzy inside.

"You look really fucking pretty."

The giddy feeling grows at his gaze. You stand on tippy toes to peck his cheek and beam a "thank you".

As you pull back, you see the subtle rosy mark of your mouth on Jungkook's cheek. "Oops."

But then Jungkook swipes a fingers over the shiny stain on his cheek pops his tongue out to give it a little lick.

"What are you-" you stop yourself, looking at him in disbelieve.

"You made me curious with the cherry flavour."

You walk to your bedside table to grab a tissue. "You haven't even had a sip of alcohol and you're already acting so weird."

"Yeah but you're the one who transforms into the weirdest person on earth when you're drunk."

"Pschh," you shush him, trying to wipe the lip gloss off his face as best you can. "We don't talk about that."

Jungkook chuckles and playfully jabs you in the side.

You jerk at that. "Yah, I had enough of that today." You press the tissue against his chest and leave the room.

"Come back to me," you hear Jungkook whine in the back.

You're on your third drink of the night.

Despite your plans to get drunk, you're still pretty much sober.

Namjoon has been getting you drinks he thinks are "so goddamm delicious", but every time you have to disappoint him with an involuntary grimace after taking a small sip.

You shouldn't have told him that you wanted to try something new tonight. Because now he's coming back to your table with his fourth attempt to make you like some of his favourites.

"Here." Namjoon presents you another drink. He sits down next to Seulgi. "This one is really good. I promise."

Warily, you give it a try.

When Namjoon doesn't see you pulling a grimace he says, "See? I told you it was good."

"You said that all the times before. This is the fourth drink," Seulgi points out.

Namjoon shrugs. "My job is done here." His gaze wanders from the bar to the crowd of people dancing on the dance floor. He clasps his hands. "I'm just gonna..." He walks into the crowd of people and you hope he won't try to impress a girl with his poor choices of drinks.

You feel the glass slip in your hand as Jungkook takes it. He's been sitting next you all night.

You watch him taste it. "Isn't this a little too strong for you?"

"Yeah, but I didn't want him get me another one. So I didn't say anything."

"He would've spent the whole night trying to find something you'd like," Seulgi says, sipping on her own drink.

"You think we'll see him again?" you ask Jungkook, pointing at the crowd where Namjoon has disappeared.

"Nah, he told me he needed to get his mind off things today."

You notice a guy looking at you from across the club. He's leaning against the bar counter. You intuitively you move closer to Jungkook. He immediately understands, resting his warm hand on your thigh. And as quickly as the guy eyed you up and down he spins around.

Having Jungkook as your friend comes in handy sometimes.

"Oh, me too," Seulgi groans.

Your eyebrows furrow at that. Nothing has happened in her life recently that should make her say something like that.

"Why?" you inquire.

"I'll tell you later." She pushes the glass you had placed on the table into your hand. "Let's get drunk and then dance, please."

"But..." You examine the drink in your hands. "I don't wanna drink this."

"What do you want? Lemme get you something," Jungkook offers. He holds his empty glass up. "Gonna get myself something too."

"Strawberry Daiquiri, please."

As Jungkook leaves, you feel Seulgi's gaze on you.

You cock your head to the side. "What's up?"

Seulgi downs the rest of her drink. "I don't understand you."

Scooting a little closer to her - now that Jungkook's gone, you can feel the looks of many men ogling at Seulgi and you - you change glasses with Seulgi because whatever it was that Namjoon had got for you, it was a bit too much.

"Watchu mean?"

"I just don't get why you and Jungkook don't...y'know, try to be more than friends."

You quirk an eyebrow but Seulgi remains unfazed. She's confronted you with this question multiple times - most of the times with a sharp sideway glance at Jungkook, eyebrows up on her forehead and then back at you.

"Never."

"At least fuck him?"

"Seulgi."

"You don't think he's fuckable? Y/n, please. Don't tell me you haven't been staring at those thighs all night 'cause I certainly did."

"Jungkook is handsome, but that's not the point."

"Then tell me. What's stopping you?"

You tap a manicured finger on the round of the glass. A sigh escapes your lips.

"What?" she asks. "Does he not meet your standards? Is he not enough for you?"

"I - I don't know."

Seulgi wears a questioning look on her face. "What do you mean you don't know?"

"I don't wanna ruin what we have right now." You shrug. "I don't want things to get weird between us. I mean, yeah, I shouldn't assume what could happen without even trying but ... I don't wanna risk anything. Not with Jungkook." You nibble at your bottom lip. "I can't imagine my life without Jungkook. And I don't wanna lose him because of something stupid that could've easily been avoided."

"As long as I have him in my life I don't care in which relation to me. I just need him," you tell her.

"Jungkook's got you wrapped around his finger," Seulgi says.

"No." you frown, deeply in denial. "I just really like him."

You switch glasses with Seulgi again and take a big sip of whatever Namjoon had ordered.

"Let's talk about something else."

"I just don't get why you and Jungkook don't...y'know, try to be more than friends."

Jungkook comes to an abrupt halt.

Had he really just hear Seulgi say that? To you?

Jungkook shouldn't be listening on your conversation. He knows that. But he had to know your answer to Seulgi's question.

"Never."

Was this his instant karma for eavesdropping?

Jungkook feels something twist in his stomach with a strange pain.

It's not like he expected a different answer. But maybe there was a spark of hope that made his heart beat a little faster.

He almost starts walking again when he hear Seulgi asking, "At least fuck him?"

And that catches his attention again.

"Seulgi."

"You don't think he's fuckable? Y/n, please. Don't tell me you haven't been staring at those thighs all night Cause I certainly did."

He's noticed your glances. But he didn't think anything of it.

"Jungkook is handsome, but that's not the point."

Jungkook has spent a lot of time thinking about what he could do or change for you to make you like him the way he likes you. So what is he missing?

"What?" Seulgi asks. "Does he not meet your standards? Is he not enough for you?"

Jungkook gulps.

Suddenly the whole club is silent. And he's waiting for your answer. Seconds pass and you don't say a single word.

All at once, every cell in Jungkook's body becomes ice cold and every part of him freezes. His feet are frozen in place. He can't move. Jungkook needs to know what you're gonna say next.

He must look ridiculous right now - standing quietly in a club while everyone around him is dancing, chatting and laughing.

"I - I don't know."

Everything is silent in Jungkook's ears, but at that moment, he heard his heart breaking. Right in the middle. And Jungkook knows he isn't imagining it, because he felt it. It's deep and painful and so intense.

And that's Jungkook's cue to turn around and leave.

Jungkook doesn't allow himself to dwell on his feelings. He shouldn't be having them in the first place. It was his own fault. His own stupidity.

So he walks back to the bar, putting both drinks on the counter. He exhales deeply and stares at the marbled counter to calm himself.

In the corner of his eye sees a woman standing right next to him. Jungkook looks at her. She has a playful, teasing smile on her crimson lips. And soon, he feels himself looking at her the same way.

"Hey," Jungkook says.

"Hi." She bats her eyelashes. "Can I have that?" She points her finger at the Strawberry Daiquiri he had originally ordered for you.

"Of course." He hands her the drink. Jungkook won't come back to you anyway.

"What's your name, pretty?"

She giggles at the pet name.

"I'm Sora."

#jeon jungkook #jungkook angst #dilf jungkook #jungkook fic #jungkook scenario #bts angst #bts fanfic #bts imagine #jungkook x reader

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eldritch-spouse · 8 months

Note

Pinter is a solid second fave for me, so been dwelling on him and his assistant for some time. What started off as the usual power imbalance somehow turned into Belo 2.0

Keeping Pinter out of his employees' business? Assistant is all in THEIR business, on the prowl to make the big man proud. Be it who's slacking on their reports to who took the last doughnut in the break room, she's already in his lap going through her naughty list.

Company party to encourage better relations? Everyone better come show boss their appreciation! He got a sheet cake! Printers are down and the deadline is coming? To the local library! Chief is counting on you! "Sir asked for NO CREAM!"

(Basically another day of me questioning if my oc is the simp or I am... Thanks for all the Pinter content lately 💚💚)

Ohhh, so you're the suck up type?

Under most circumstances, Pinter distrusts those types. And you didn't seem like one to him at all.

But all it took was Pinter zeroing in on you, finally noticing what a gem he had in his hands all this time. He had looped a metaphorical rope around your waist and he was dragging you closer to him like a famished mutt- He expected you to be creeped out, or at the very least fearful and eager to weasel away from him in the workplace.

But no.

Much to the slime's surprise, you've... Embraced your role. Superbly well, he has to admit! Not only are you extremely productive and dedicated, you keep everyone in check when he can't. This is almost surreal to Pinter, this is the best case scenario- And he's so used to keeping his expectations down...

You can't blame him for being a little suspicious now, can you? For as much as Pinter would like to reap the rewards of this unexpected turnabout, he can't let his guard down prematurely. What happens if he leaves confidential documents out in the open? Leaves a personal tab on his web browser visible and leaves the room? What happens when Pinter gives you a finger- Will you take his whole arm?

It's hard for him to remember to test you when you're sitting on his lap, the hot coffee you got for him -Exactly to his tastes- Forgotten on the desk while he strokes a hand along your thigh and hardly listens to your droning about one of his employees creating a "toxic work environment" for others. He's just looking at your lips and feeling awfully hot in his suit.

#Pinter oc #falling-electricxangel

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lilacsandpetals · 7 months

Note

First of all, I want to say thank you for making this beautiful fanfic Frozen Bloosom. It was almost perfectly written. I barely attached to any fanfics x readers before, especially from MK franchise. But When I discovered your writings, I was hooked up and couldn't stop re-reading all the parts. And this is the first time I have written my admiration for someone this long.

You described Bi Han accurately and fit the current situation. And you didn't force us (readers) to steal the spotlight or make us mary-sue-ish.

And I like that you gave us (the readers) a position as apprentice fighters in the Lin Kuei instead of making us the typical main characters who get miracles directly. You make us (the readers) humble individuals, willing to sacrifice for the sake of our family and the clan involved by marrying someone who doesn't seem to want us in the beginning. This is very relatable to life in the real world.

You successfully made this fanfic quite correlated with the timeline created by Liu Kang and not too contradictory. When I read it, in my headcanon, I felt that in his other timelines, Liu Kang deliberately made the marriage between the two clans happen so that there would be no more divisions and conflicts that would destroy the order of Earthrealm.

I feel like when you wrote it, Liu Kang chose us (the readers) to be Bi Han's redemption. Liu Kang aspires for us (the readers) so that one day we would be able to melt Bi Han's cold heart and prevent a major conflict in the earth realm or with his brothers.

Love takes time, and I like the process experienced by Bi Han and the readers. not too straightforward but also not too draggy. You didn't make Bi Han look 'simp' towards us, in fact, you created us to also make an effort to open Bi Han's heart and accept us as his partner.

I like how you keep our lore (the readers' lore) to a minimum so that we (the readers' lore) have the freedom to select and build our own OC lore (this may be due to my poor habit of shipping canonXheadcanoon or is it me who never read fanfic reader, but whatever).

The point is that I adore Frozen Bloosom. It's beautifully written and not forced.

Thank you much for the compliments, I really appreciate that 💖 I'm so happy that you've been enjoying my writing as well, and I appreciate you leaving such kind comments 💕💙💕

Yeah I tried to write Bi-Han as carefully as I could and I try to keep a balance of him and the reader for each chapter. Initially I was worried about how Bi-Han might come off because my main knowledge of him comes from MK1. I played the other MK games here and there but I don't remember too much.

I tried to make the reader's position as nuanced as I could. I didn't want to make them seem like they came off as perfect right from the start. I wanted some development throughout the story. I usually prefer flawed or complex reader x character stories so I'm glad that's the vibe it gives off. Plus I'm a sucker for characters caught in an arranged marriage they aren't thrilled about.

I like that headcanon of yours! And yes that's why I tried to set it as an AU for the MK1 timeline. In my mind, it would make it harder for Bi-Han to turn towards a darker path.

Yesss I love slow burn romances so I definitely wanted to make sure I portrayed that correctly. It takes two to make a relationship work so it was important for me to show that evolution of effort on both ends. Balancing the line of not moving along too fast and not dragging it can be a bit difficult, so hopefully I can keep up that balance :)

Mhm I try to keep the reader's background minimal so it's easier for them to self-insert or insert an OC, etc.

Again, thank you much for reading. 💕✨💕✨

#ask me anything #ask

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maarriiii · 1 year

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Simp (Part 8) | Wilbur Soot

A/N: Part 8 or as I like to call it the part where I make up random name for characters. I feel like every chapter is slowly getting longer and I don’t know if people like that 🤷‍♀️ Also, completely unrelated, call me what you like is a banger. I love it. Have been playing in on repeat.

Summary: A day in the life of actor, y/n l/n. Also, Lovejoy sold tickets for their tour. Did you get one though? (Read to find out lol)

Pairing(s): OC x gender neutral!reader, OC x actor!reader

Warning(s): Rude journalist and swearing but only a little really

my masterlist :))

"What happened to keeping a low profile and staying off social media?"

You sighed. You knew this would happen. You were expecting it since yesterday, when your fans freaked about your appearance in Wilbur's stream—or more precisely in his chat—and the aftermath of it was you trending on Twitter again and another round of speculation about your love life started rolling out. You turned from the car window, the streets of Los Angeles passing by, to your publicist, Anne, who was sitting across from you in the car. Next to her was your recently hired assistant, Nicole, watching the interaction with intent and curiosity.

"I was bored and had nothing to do. So, I thought why not." You shrugged.

"You're doing press in the next few weeks. You know, there's a possible chance they might ask you about it, right?"

You waved your hand, suprisingly nonchalant about it. " I'll handle it. Besides, you could do your charm and ask them not to ask me about my relationship right, Anne?"

Anne rolled her eyes and sighed, writing something in her notebook. "Sure, I'll tell James about it when we see him."

The red headed woman turned to the person next to her. "If James and I aren't the room, and the interviewers started asking personal stuff, tell them to change their question, okay? Be assertive."

Nicole nodded fervently. "Okay."

"Thanks guys. Sorry for being such a hassle."

"Oh, please, I've handled far worse." Anne revealed. "You're practically a goody two shoes compared to all the delinquents I've had before."

You leaned closer to Nicole, lowering your voice. "By that she means I'm her favourite."

Nicole smiled, finally loosening up.

"I can still hear you."

You flashed a grin. "I know. I'm only doing that for dramatic effect. I am an actor, you know."

Anne shook his head, though a smile still escaped her lips.

After twenty minutes of car ride filled with comfortable silence and the occasional small talk, the three of you finally arrived at the hotel where the start of the press tour will happpened. The tranquility of the morning turned into a string of boisterous activities that you've grown all too familiar with. Coffee, hair and make-up, another coffee, food, clothes, light snack, and finally the interview. Everything was fast-paced, constantly moving and never staying in one place for a second longer than necessary. It was understandable, the rushing, but that doesn’t mean you like it—you never did.

You were on your fifth interviewer of the day, talking about your film, Companion of The West. A drama driven film about a group of people trying to solve the murder of a person that seemed to be connecting them all together. So far things have been going smoothly, although the questions have became repetitive, none have asked you intrusive question about your personal life. But, there was this nagging feeling inside you that something was about to go wrong. And, it did.

"So, y/n, you've been very busy this year, haven't you?"

You smiled at the interviewer in front of you. "Yeah, I think this has been my busiest year yet. But, you know, I think it's because there have been tons of good project that I was lucky enough to be offered and you know, I just want to get my hands on all of them."

Martin, the interviewer, nodded along. A question card in his hand. "Oh totally, I get that. I mean you’re at the top of your career right now. Wouldn’t want someone to take that away, right?

You frowned slightly. That's not what you meant at all. But, still you kept a friendly smile.

"It's not really about that honestly. It's just that I'm very grateful to be offered these past couple of roles that I've gotten, so I just wanted to be in it, you know."

"Yes, yes, of course. Moving on."

It was at that point when it finally dawn on you. Behind the smile and enthusiastic nature was someone with hidden intention. Martin was one of those people who lulled you into a false sense of security to get you to accidentally talk about something or twist your words to create false and unnecesary drama. You were once caught in the middle of it. When you were still new to the industry, all bright eyes and too naive. You talked too much and they used that on you. You shared a glance with Nicole, who seemed to have the same suspicion as you. She grew wary behind the camera and prepares to interfere if it was needed.

"Recently, you were trending again on Twitter." Martin mentioned. "Did you know about that?"

You nodded. "Yeah, my fans have a habit of getting me trending."

"And your fans seems to be particularly excited about your interaction with a certain someone.”

At this point, your friendly nature disappeared. Instead, you just sighed. A stoic and bored expression ddecorated your face.

"Yes. Are you going anywhere with this?"

Martin was amused at your sudden change in behaviour. "Is there someone new in your life? It's been awhile since you and Alex Moore ended your relationship. Are you not interested in dating anyone?"

Before you could speak, a small yet firm voice beat you to it. "I'm sorry, but we're not taking questions revolving y/n's personal life.”

Martin turned around. "It’s just the one. I’ll be quick.”

"I think you should leave."

At the sound of your voice, both Nicole and Martin turned to you.

"If that is your last question, which I doubt it is, then you should probably just leave now because I'm not answering it. You see this, Martin." You turned around, showing the film poster behind you. "I'm doing promo for this film. Not my personal life. So, if you have any backup questions regarding this film, by all means, ask them and I'll forget this ever happen but if you don't then the exit is behind you."

He opened his mouth but you raised your hand, cutting him off. "Look, man, I still have a whole lot of people waiting and honestly, you’re just wasting everyone’s time. So, why don't you just do us all a favor and leave? That way everyone in this room could all go home early."

Martin was stunned. He wasn't expecting this type of reaction from you.

You sighed again. "You could leave on your own or I could call the security to escort you out. I'm fine either way."

Martin glanced around, expecting someone to come to his defend. When he found nothing but pointed looks thrown at him, he scoffed before and walked away without a single word.

"Well, he's a swell guy," You broke the silence, sarcasm very evident in your tone.

A few snickers was heard around the room.

"Do you want to continue, y/n, or do you need a couple of minutes?" Nicole spoke.

"Give me a couple of minutes. I don't want to accidentally direct my anger to someone."

Nicole nodded.

After a majority of good interviewers and a few bad eggs, you finally finished the first day of many of your press junket. You were already on the verge of sleep, eyes drooping and barely making it through the last couple of interviewers. The next step of the agenda was to head home, pack your bags, and head to the airport to fly to the Big Apple. You and Nicole were in the SUV, heading to your place, whilst Anne and James took another car straight to the airport to make sure everything was set up and no paparazzi was in the area.

With barely enough energy, you scrolled mindlessly through your phone, liking pictures and videos of friends and fans when you come across a post that managed to wake you up. Nicole noticed, surprised about your sudden awake state. You were almost asleep just a second ago.

"What, what, what's wrong?"

You ignored her. "Shit, shit, shit."

"y/n, what's wrong? Did that Martin guy say something bad about you? I'm sure Anne—"

"No, no, it's not that." You shook your head frantically.

"Then, what is it?"

In an Instagram post, Lovejoy officially announced their upcoming tour with a link to purchase their tickets. This was both good and bad. Good, because that means you could see them play and you would finally meet Wilbur in person. Bad, because the post was posted three hours and tickets for all the shows announced was already sold out. You kept refreshing the page, hoping luck would be on your side and a single ticket to any of the shows would still be available for you to purchase. Unfortunately, luck was not found anywhere.

"Fuck." You threw your phone on the seat out of frustration. "God, why did it have to be today of all days?"

Nicole, frustrated that you weren't giving her an explanation, took and examined your phone.

She frowned. "It's only a band gig, y/n. I'm sure you could see them play some other time. Hm, I haven't heard of them though. Are they any good?"

Again, you ignored her. "I'm supposed to see him."

The car ride continued with you gazing out the window, saddened and Nicole trying to comfort you to the best of her abbilities even though she didn't quite get the situation. She knew it had something to do with the rumor—she learned about it when Anne pulled her aside to address it—or more precisely, the guy you were rumored with, but if you weren't together then why would you be upset about not going to his show or maybe you were but you were hiding it. She knew that was a thing for celebrities that like to keep their private life private and you certainly seemed to be the type.

When the car finally reached its destination, Nicole frowned at the sight of your lit house and a car parked on the driveway. When you, Anne and Nicole left your house earlier that day, there wasn't any car on the driveway and as far as she knew, you lived alone. Were you expecting someone to come by?

"Hey, y/n, why is your house lit? Do you have someone checking up your house whenever you're gone?"

You turned around from the other window. "Oh, that must be Sam. I told him to come by after I'm done before the flight to New York."

Without another word, you opened the passenger door and trudged toward the house with Nicole following you behind. You haven't told Wilbur about the ticket situation and a part of you didn't want to. You already said to him, multiple times even, how excited you were for his tour and now you forgotten about the fact that the tickets were sold today. He even told you about it yesterday after he finished his stream but you only just remembered it after seeing the post.

"Hey there, stranger—woah, what happened to you?" Sam greeted you, a glass of wine in his hand.

"I'm a forgetful idiot."

"Forgetful, yes. An idiot, that's arguable."

You sunk next to Sam, almost sliding down the couch. A pout on your face. "I forgot that Wil's band was selling their tickets for the shows today, so now I'm left with none because it's all sold out."

Sam winced. "Oof. That's tough."

You didn't respond, wallowing in self-pity.

"Well, it's a good thing I manage to get my hands on a couple then.”

It took you a couple of seconds to grasp the meaning of Sam's words. When you did, you fixed your posture, stood straighter, eyes wide awake without a trace of fatigue in them.

"You're fucking with me right now." You stared at him. "Do not play with me, Sam."

Sam smiled, placing his glass on the table. "I would love to, but I feel like you're either gonna hit me or cry if I do. So, I won't."

You screamed in excitement and proceed to tackle your best friend in a bear hug. Sam chuckled, listening to you showering him with appreaciation, gratitude, and love. Nicole who had just been minding her business in the kitchen, ran at the sound of your voice, only to grow confused at the sight of you two lying on the couch.

“Uh, is everything alright here?”

Both you and Sam looked up at her, you with the most brightest smile Nicole had ever seen that day.

“Everything’s perfect, Nicole.”

#simp #wilbur soot #wilbur x reader #wilbur soot x reader #wilbur soot x you #wilbur x you #wilbur mcyt

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ikemen-daily-questions · 2 months

Text

What is this blog?

The purpose of this blog is to post questions that prompt fans of the ikeseries games to reply with their thoughts. Questions will range from asking your opinions of how your favorites will react to certain scenarios, prompts to consider how your favorite character may feel about certain things (matching pjs, your first home together, his coffee order, etc) , or questions asking your favorite route/event/cg/etc about each game.

It's a fun way to share HCs you've been wanting to talk about, or thoughts about a certain route/cg/etc, or encourage you to consider certain aspects of your favorite that you may not have thought about before. I'm hoping that by posting these, it will help share some positivity and simple fun with others in the fandom.

This blog compiles all the 'daily questions' I came up with for my server, Bloody Simps. I've decided to now make the questions public, scheduled for once a day, so anyone in the cybird fandoms can reply.

Some questions may be NSFW, but it's usually a rare few. Due to this, they will be marked for mature audiences and I ask for minors to not interact with those questions (will block if this happens)

How do I respond to questions?

Reblog the question and write out your response to your heart's content! You can respond as yourself, or as/with your OC**!

Each question posts at 12PM EST, and you're free to respond to it any time after it's posted. I heavily recommend reblogging it, just due to the fact that replies have a character limit. That way you can gush as much as you want about your fave!

*Some questions are made with the player in mind, rather than OCs.

*The questions will ask 'you' for a response, but a lot can easily be taken as a chance for your OC to respond. As in, "what is your favorite letter from your suitor" can be easily turned into your OC sharing which route/event letter was their favorite, how it impacted them, etc, or honestly you can go wild and make up your own letter from the suitor and say its your OCs favorite. Just have fun!!

Can I submit some question suggestions?

Of course! I'll denote any submitted questions that are used with a ☆, and if the suggestion is made off anon, I will tag you in the post concerning it.

Please keep in mind that if the question seems rude towards any MC or character, is offensive in nature, or is too similar to questions already made, then it will not be added to the question pool. These questions may also be used for my server's daily questions as well.

I see that you're posting questions while using tags for X game, what about Y game?

You're free to share your thoughts on the question with any cybird suitor, though some questions may be game specific. I only play some of the ENG released games, and don't play the JP only games at the moment. Please feel free to respond with any ENG or JP cybird game/character, but if it pertains spoilers I would kindly ask you tag as such just for my sake,,,,

I see this is for cybird characters, but I also want to talk about a different character I like

Honestly, I can't control what you do! If the question fits, and you're wanting to discuss other blorbos, as long as its not hateful then I don't really care.

The reason this is centered on cybird games specifically is because questions will be directly geared with those in mind, such as qs about favorite events from the games or CGs/Routes, etc etc, so the differentiation is to lessen confusion for those stumbling onto this blog randomly.

I know Ocs are alright to respond with, but what about suitor/suitor ships or polyships?

If the questions applies (that is up for you to determine), then feel free! If the ship is incestuous in nature, and this is a recurring theme, I will not want to interact with your response and if its too triggering, I may block.

What do you do with the responses?

I read them! At the moment, I do not plan to reblog any responses to this blog, and instead encourage people to look at the notes to see what others have said. At the most, I may reblog them to my blog to share thoughts if I agree with you, but this is mainly just a question/prompt blog.

Who runs this blog?

At the moment, just @scummy-writes ! Since Krys is a mod for my server, and helps out with making questions for there as well, she's given me permission to use the questions she's came up with as well! These questions will be notated with a ♡. You can find her blogs at @krys-loves-otome and @not-krys!

I saw someone respond rather hatefully to a question...

If I notice that someone is consistently character bashing or being rude/offensive towards the questions, I'll likely end up blocking them for my own sanity. I would like this to be positive, even when the questions are asking what your least favorite route may be or similar, and easy discussion.

Disliking a character and explaining why calmly without being harmful towards those who enjoy the character is fine!

╰❧ Typos may occur, and sometimes I may repost a question not too long after it's been posted originally on accident! Please be patient with me, mistakes happen.

╰❧ Divider by @/saradika-graphics

#About #faq

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imtrashraccoon · 3 months

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This writing request comes from my friend @gamemasterofscratch who requested Dr. Baggs being comforted as he's always so stressed and busy. I decided to try my hand at writing in third person for the first time in a while and chose the Reader-Insert character from the Bad Sansuary challenge I wrote, "Have Some Empathy, Dear." (I hope you like it, even if it isn't how I usually write!)

Dr. Baggs belongs to @/megalommi

CW: Mind control against an unwilling person. Nothing explicit happens though.

Doctor's Orders

Dr. Baggs & Female!OC

Word Count: 3,397

Careful...this next part was especially sensitive.

His phalanges trembled ever so slightly as he started to pour the contents of one beaker into another one. He only needed a drop, any more would ruin the experiment and mean the last twelve hours of work had been wasted.

He had taken the necessary precautions of course, just like he always did, even if his bones weren't as frail as many other's bodies were. He had thick black rubber gloves on that covered his entire forearms, a white lab coat that was specially treated to be fireproof, and he was even wearing safety goggles in case there was an explosion.

He narrowed his eye sockets as he scrutinized the bright pink liquid that he was trying to add to another beaker that contained an ashy powder. There was no guarantee that replicating it was even possible. He still had to try though. It would change everything if he could successfully make a synthetic version of that peculiar substance that humans produced naturally. There was no limit to how useful their own version of Determination could be.

Why, he would never have to worry so much about monsters losing hope and falling down. The Guard could have stronger soldiers that could evenly match the most competent human ones, not they weren't already capable in combat that is. He could even break the barrier and reclaim the surface for Monsterkind if he so chose. Not that he was sure that was even feasible in the first place.

A drop of the pink liquid landed on the small pile of ash and...nothing...

He held his breath and studied the beaker closely for several long minutes. When still nothing happened, he finally caved and added another tiny drop, just hoping that it was a fluke. He couldn't have messed something up, he just couldn't have!

A small puff of smoke curled up from the ashes, flooding his nasal cavity with an acrid stench that forced him to take a few steps away from his desk.

He clenched his fists, the rubber material of his gloves crying out in protest, and grit his teeth so harshly that he felt a small jolt of pain in the back of his skull.

wonderful job, sans... you've failed again...

As soon as the thought entered his skull, he frowned and tore off the goggles. He hadn't gone by that name in years, so why had it returned to him at a time like this?!

With a huff, he threw the eye wear at the far wall. The action wasn't nearly enough to placate his growing frustration and with a growl, he turned his attention to the desk. He swept everything to the floor and pounded a clenched fist onto the metal surface, hardly registering the pain from doing so.

Now he'd made a mess of his work area that he'd have to thoroughly clean up. It was a pain to get Monster dust off of anything, let alone that synthesized mixture his assistant had invented. The only good side was that this room had been constructed from easily sterilized materials.

He was so tired.

Yet no matter how hard he had tried to find a remedy in the past, he couldn't sleep. While having more time to dedicate to his work was helpful, it was also detrimental for his health to constantly be burning the candle at both ends.

Dr. Alphys had called him a workaholic once and he'd laughed. She was right though. He couldn't leave well enough alone or stop working for a moment, lest he fall behind some unseen competitor.

He took a few deep breaths and counted backwards from ten. It was such a simple technique but humans certainly knew what they were talking about when it came to psychology. Now if only they had information in their books on how to counteract magical insomnia...

Rubbing small circles over his sphenoid bone, or where his temples would approximately be if he had flesh, he did his best to ease the tension and stress that had built up inside his soul. His frontal lobe felt sensitive too, like he was about to get a migraine, which he really didn't want to deal with right now.

Something set his instincts on high alert. It was a soft sound, like someone had scuffed their foot against the tiled floor when they'd taken a step.

His skull whipped in the direction of the intruder.

His eye sockets widened when he realized they weren't a Monster at all, but a Human. One he'd never seen before either, which was impossible, what with all the surveillance systems scattered around the Underground that he personally oversaw.

They appeared to be a woman with shoulder length dark hair that had loose ringlets at the ends. She had a lighter complexion compared to some humans he'd interacted with and striking eyes that seemed like a mix of green and blue. She was dressed causally in a simple striped cardigan and a pair of black jeans. Interestingly, she also seemed to have some sort of thin plating poking out from her clothes that kind of resembled armour.

She was also taller than him, by at least six or seven inches. Granted, most people were taller than he was, but it was another factor he found concerning about her.

The weird thing was that she was just watching him. All other humans had at least tried to attack him or flee on sight. So why wasn't she?

Forcing himself to relax, he let his arms hang loosely at his sides in an attempt to appear non-threatening for the moment. "can i help you?" he asked, his clear baritone voice easily carrying across the room to her.

She shook her head, although he didn't fail to notice the glimmer of curiosity in her eyes. He could also tell that she was a little nervous, although she was trying to seem relaxed like he was. Her shoulders were rather stiff and with the way her feet were spaced apart, he could tell she was readying herself to flee if he made any sudden movements.

"I was about to ask you that same question," she responded. She let out a bit of an awkward chuckle but made no moves to approach him.

He shook his skull. "i don't need any help you think you can provide, human." He didn't really mean to sound hostile but he couldn't help it.

She seemed completely unfazed though. "That's okay then."

"who are you?" he asked.

She got a strange look on her face and the corners of her lips quirked up slightly. "Well, I have a lot of names, but you can call me...Minty."

He could only look at her blankly. Someone was messing with him, surely. Where had this odd human even come from? She hadn't popped out of nowhere, right? He needed to buy some time and maybe get an idea of what was happening.

Folding his arms behind his back, he drew himself up to his full height and briefly regarded the woman in front of him. "my name is dr. baggs and if you aren't interested in a fight, i have some questions for you..."

She smiled in a more genuine way which was slightly reassuring. "Of course, so long as you let me ask a few of my own."

Baggs nodded and gestured to a rolling chair next to another desk. "feel free to sit down and make yourself comfortable." When the human did so, he pulled another chair over and sat down, although he was careful to stay just out of her reach.

"how did you sneak past all the cameras and get into my lab?" he asked.

She laced her fingers together in her lap and fiddled with her fingernails. Her posture still seemed tense but she appeared calm at the moment.

"You wouldn't believe me if I told you," she said with a slight chuckle.

He raised a bonebrow suspiciously. "try me, i've seen a lot of things that many would consider unbelievable."

She seemed concerned and her eyebrows furrowed as she considered it. After a moment, she made up her mind and looked up at him again.

"Alright, if you say so. The truth is that I'm not from this world and...a friend dropped me off here."

He understood why she didn't think he'd believe her. In the past he'd theorized about the existence of alternate timelines or even a multiverse, however it hadn't been feasible to explore such theories. He still didn't have the ability to properly do so and even if he did, it could prove dangerous to his own timeline. Who knew what entities existed beyond the veil of reality?

He tapped his clavicle with a phalanx in a thoughtful way. "i see...then why are you here? what do you want from me?" he asked carefully.

She opened her mouth to answer but shut it again with a frown. After a couple seconds of contemplation, she tried again.

"I'm here because of you..."

"why is that?"

She took a deep breath and made eye contact with him. "I can sense how stressed you are and...how your soul is crying out in pain," she stated.

Baggs was a little surprised at how frank she was being right now. Still, he couldn't help but remain on edge. He knew how dangerous humans could be, even without magic, but he was a bit curious how she could sense his emotions.

"how do you know this?"

She pursed her lips as she tried to figure out the best way to answer his question. "It's a little complicated to explain but I've always had a talent for reading how people are feeling. I wouldn't exactly call it magic but it has similarities."

He wasn't sure what to think about how vague her answer was, but he didn't like this situation at all. She was pretending to act casual but he could tell that she was just as, if not more, on edge than he was. Yet she had been polite and actually had tried to relieve some of the tension between them. There was one thing that wasn't sitting well with him though and that was the fact that she seemed to want something from him.

Her gaze shifted from him and towards the discarded experiment on the floor. "I'm guessing whatever happened is why you're so stressed right now, huh?"

"you would be correct."

"Did you want to tell me about it?"

When he didn't answer immediately, she glanced back over at him and tilted her head in a questioning way.

"no, i wouldn't tell anyone, let alone you."

She didn't react to his harsh tone and simply nodded in an understanding way. "That's fine, we don't need to go into details. I can see you didn't get the results you wanted though. How many times have you tried to do this?" Her tone of voice was soft and she seemed to be choosing her words carefully so as to not upset him.

Baggs sighed and shifted in his chair uncomfortably. "nine times now," he muttered under his breath.

She inhaled sharply and he could feel that she was studying him. "I don't think I would've tried again after failing three times. It's impressive how persistent you are, at least in my opinion anyways," she remarked.

She asked a few more casual questions about various topics and he responded in kind. However, the longer the conversation went on, the more uneasy he began to feel. It was like she was trying to get him to feel more comfortable around her. The whole situation felt familiar and he knew why.

It was something he'd often done in the past.

If she was planning to do something, getting him to feel more at ease was the perfect first step.

He hated it.

Before she could ask another question, he interjected with one of his own. "i might be wrong here, but you have experience as a therapist, don't you?" He'd kept his tone even and leaned forward while speaking to express interest in what her answer would be.

She seemed surprised but soon smiled warmly at him. "Yes, I-"

No sooner had she responded did Baggs do what he should've done from the beginning. His magenta right eyelight expanded until it filled his entire socket and the pink swirled with blue to create a hypnotizing array that couldn't be ignored.

She fell easily under his control, just like everyone else before her, but in the split second it took to do so, she seemed to realize what he was doing. She had a look of shock but there was also a strange glint in her teal eyes. She lunged for him and while he tried to move away, her hand closed around his left forearm in a vice grip.

His mind was suddenly flooded with an overwhelming sense of compassion and empathy. However, the feelings weren't his own and for a moment, he was paralyzed from the shock.

He was stronger though.

A simple thought was all it took for the feelings to fade.

Baggs leaned his skull back against the chair and let out a heavy sigh. He'd never had anyone react like that before. Violence sure, but never using...Intent. It didn't make any sense...

He looked down at her, half sprawled on the ground where she'd collapsed and half sitting up almost leaning on top of him, all the while she was still clutching onto his arm. She was stronger than he'd first assumed and he was lucky she hadn't had a chance to go for the kill. But...that wasn't what she'd even tried to do in the first place...

why didn't you follow through and attack me? he asked, using his own thoughts to communicate.

Her expression remained passive and her body didn't move at all, meaning she was still completely under his control. He wanted an answer though and used his magic to gently prob into her mind.

"...I only wanted to help you," was her silent response.

how does any of that help? he pressed further.

"I could feel how much you were hurting. I want to help you with shouldering it, if you'll let me..."

how is trying to influence my mind and emotional state supposed to help?

"I wasn't trying to control you... You didn't believe that I truly wanted to help earlier...so I had to show you."

Baggs narrowed his eye sockets suspiciously. He knew she was telling the truth as no one could lie to him when under his direct control. However, he was a bit intrigued as to what her goal had been.

what else would you do to help me? he asked.

"..." Her thoughts were silent, although he could sense that she was struggling to come up with an answer. "...Anything you allow me to. Although earlier I was thinking of trying to comfort you if you don't mind that," she finally answered.

He decided to give her a chance and relaxed the hold his magic had on her mind. He didn't release her just yet though.

She was still for a moment before she let go of his forearm and sat up properly on the floor. Her eyes never left his and she remained docile, not making any sudden movements.

"May I hug you?" she asked in a soft whisper.

"you may."

She dragged herself to her feet and shuffled towards him. Her movements were slow and unsteady, likely from the effects of the hypnosis, but she managed to stiffly wrap him in a hug.

Baggs let her hold onto him for a couple of minutes before gently pushing her arms away. It felt rather odd allowing a stranger to touch him like that but it wasn't entirely unpleasant either.

Her eyebrows were slightly furrowed with concern and she tilted her head. "I can sense that you're still tense. Would you like it if I tried something different?"

He gave her a curious look. "what else can you do?"

"Well, I know how to use magic to absorb negative feelings."

"i know most humans are incapable of using magic, so could you explain your magic and who taught you how to use it?" he asked.

She nodded and sat down on the ground again, although she crossed her legs this time so she could be more comfortable. "I've always been good at empathizing with people but I can do two things with my magic. I can transfer my own positive emotions to someone else by touching them or I can replace their negative emotions with my own positive ones, absorbing them into my own soul."

She paused for a moment and, sensing that she wasn't willing to reveal who had taught her, Baggs focused his magic again to probe her into telling him.

"His name is Nightmare and...he was also the one who brought me here..." she whispered.

Baggs felt a wave of annoyance flicker over him at the mention of the god of negativity. They'd only met in passing before and it hadn't been a pleasant one.

"Are you okay? I can try comforting you again..." She asked quietly, having apparently sensed his change in demeanor.

He shook his skull and sighed. "no. tell me why he sent you."

Her passive expression faltered and her eyebrows knit together with concern. Still, she was powerless to refuse a direct command in this state.

"Nightmare can sense your negative emotions and he's become very interested in your work," she muttered. "However, I'm not here to convince you to make any deals... I just want to help you."

He knew she was telling the truth and yet he couldn't shake the feeling that Nightmare was using this situation in an attempt to establish good relations. It didn't sit well with him at all.

Baggs fully released his hold on her soul and mind, his right eyelight returning to its usual size and magenta colour as he did so. He could take back the control at anytime and she wouldn't even be able to notice if he did, but he didn't tell her that.

She inhaled sharply and her eyes flicked around the room before settling on him again. As she did so, her body jerked backwards as if to instinctively get away from him but she stopped herself. It was incredibly apparent to any outside observers that she was struggling to remain calm and not freak out, which was commendable.

Baggs stood up and offered her one of his hands to help her stand up as well. "i should apologize for being such a poor host. would you like something to drink?" he inquired.

She grimaced and shook her head but still accepted his help. "Please don't take this the wrong way, but I don't trust you after...that." She looked away from him and dusted her clothing off.

"i understand your concern, but i have no intentions of harming you." He smiled and tried to change the subject with a different question. "may i ask how you came into nightmare's service? you don't seem like the type someone like him would select for his...work."

She smiled while recalling the memory before answering. "You're right, I actually met and befriended his henchmen first. He saw fit to rescue me when my own world collapsed."

He raised his bonebrows in surprise. "I'm amazed you're still in one piece," he remarked dryly.

She chuckled and waved him off. "Well, I have a few more scars now compared to before, but those are mostly from learning self-defense. I'm not deployed for the usual missions so I haven't had to kill anyone yet."

"what missions are you usually deployed on then?"

"I am tasked with the missions that require more tact than what Nightmare himself is able to perform."

It seemed he'd been right from the beginning.

Neither of them said anything for several long seconds. Finally, she put her hand on his shoulder and gave him a gentle smile.

"Is there anything else I can do to help you? I don't know about you but I'd like to at least end this meeting on a pleasant note," Minty commented.

Baggs nodded slightly. "i suppose i can afford to take a break for a little while..." he hummed.

#raccoons drabbles #undertale #megalosomnia #dr. baggs #baggs sans #female oc #minty #baggs & oc #writing requests #first time writing this guy #i always picture him as more chaotic but he's on guard here #definitely took some inspiration from wishing stones r&r for him #the original idea was to write this from baggs pov but its more third person i think

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endlessly-cursed · 9 months

Text

fankids appreciation week 23: co-parent appreciation

ottilie enfield, daughter of odessa avery ( @cursed-herbalist ) & kit enfield ( @potionboy3 )

grace of alderly, daughter of cora hastings ( @camillejeaneshphm ) & henry of alderly ( @gaygryffindorgal )

cleo hexley, daughter of jacob hexley ( @the-al-chemist )

emmeline & lucy devlin, daughters of josie edwards ( @slytherindisaster ) & william devlin ( @unfortunate-arrow )

wilhemina stagg, daughter of siobhan llewellyn ( @kc-and-co ) & galen stagg ( @cursebreakerfarrier )

caitlin doherty, daughter of mathilde coventry & lachlann doherty ( @hphmmatthewluther )

reva amari, daughter of lizzie jameson ( @lifeofkaze ) & orion amari

Less: It seems like yesterday when we started talking and you posted Abe & Oscar's profiles and I remember being one of the first to interact with, and ever since you've been such a kind and patient friend and I see you now as some sort of big sister, deal with it 🫶🏻 thank you for deciding to join our little community, because your presence is just what we needed ❤

Annie: It's not a secret that I was at first intimidated when I started following you: you had such compelling characters and cool af videos and here I was, a little guy! But I am so thamkful of having talked to you through Sara and convinced Gryff for you to join our chat, even though you're not there anymore. I treasure our friendship and you and Gryff are now my oldest sisters 🫶🏻 Gryffie wedding when!!!

Gryff: I was intimidated by you too ajhsjssj. You had such cool gifs and content and interesting characters, and I had just started into the OC x OC world, but being your friend during these past years has been a true boon, and I hope to have gained an oldest sister who I can count on and have either a laugh or a very deep conversation. Te quiero, hermana 🫶🏻

Persie: Who would've thought I'd grow to love you so much and become such a close friend? To me, you're the little sister I've always dreamt of having. We can go from making fun of each other, to argue and then proceed to simp for our ocs and blorbos. Thank you for being an awesome friend and being there for me when I needed it ❤ J'et aime, cherie

Al: I've always looked up to you as a writer and a person, and despite being a bit intimidated by you as well, you have turned out to be a great advisor and inspiration for me! Also, you're officially the adventurous wine aunt 🫶🏻 I hope we can do something ourselves in the near future (i'm not exaggerating when I say it'd be a dream come true 🫶🏻)

Lily: Though, because of irl stuff, we haven't interacted much, you were always a great and supportive friend and I constantly feel inspired by you, not to mention that I found a fellow Choicenator here! (even tho chonces is now a dumpster fire but it's ours) and I always remember you fondly 🥺🫶🏻 love uuuu

Arrow: You gave me the impression of someone who was stoic, but once I got to know you through our two ships, getting to know your passionate side, your humour and your wicked wit has been a delight and I look forward to see what you're up to and start writing Aderva's story and get to share it with you 🤎

Kate: We have interacted little (I'm socially awkward and crap at managing friendships :c) I'm constantly in awe with your writing and creativity, and I always learn something new about you and from you, and it is such a privilege 🫶🏻

Sky: You were one of the first people to approach me, and getting to know you through our ships and the chat has been a privilege. You were responsible of me joining the fandom and I'm always in awe with your creativity and how passionate and intelligent you are, and I hope we can get up to more shenanigans together, even if lately we haven't been good at catching up 🫶🏻 you will always have a special place in my heart for showing me the best community ever 🥰

Guzma: You have been the surprise of the year! Getting to know you, talk to you through vc and creating our own verse in the founders era and our 2 am chats have been the highlight of my 2022-2023 and I look forward to getting up to more mischief with you 🫶🏻

Kaze: I think you're the one user I was most intimidated by 😅 you are such a big and respected blog, for a while I didn't have the courage to talk to you, but finding out how sweet, friendly and fun you are has been such a privilege! Like with many others, I'm always learning from you, as well as giving me inspo and motivation to better my writing and as a person 🥰 I look forward sharing something with you! I know I'll have a blast 🥳

Honourable mentions:

@cursedvaultss Alys: You're still new here, but show much promise to our little family! You're so sweet and creative, and I know that soon you'll get far here 🫶🏻 looking forward seeing what you'll do!

@nicos-oc-hell Nico: At first I was unsure of how to proceed with you, but finding out how many things in common we have and your killer sense of humour have been a great surprise! I am always laughing or smiling when I talk to you, and I feel very safe with you 🫶🏻

@mjs-oc-corner Mo: At first I was a bit afraid of talking to you, but you've proven to be funny, badass, super sweet and one of the greatest friends I've got here and, despite having little interactions, I treasure them all just like I treasure you ❤ love uuu hermanita 🥰

@that-scouse-wizard JD: Tbh, I was even more scared of talking to you (I struggle to talk to men in general ksjdjsmaks) but these past months you've been the funniest, sweetest and one of my best surprises this year, and Flossie and Frediette have my entire heart 🫶🏻

@kathrynalicemc Lari: Last but not least, you're probably one of the closest friend here, and talking to you makes my day. You've become very special to me and getting to share stories and shenanigans with you is always a boon to me ❤ thank you for being the absolute best and so you know, te quiero muchisisisisímo, mi mas querida hermana 😘

#ottilie enfield #grace of alderly #cleo hexley #emmeline devlin #lucretia devlin #wilhemina stagg #caitlin doherty #reva amari #founders era #hphl #fbawtft #ww1 era #magic awakened #fankidsaw23 #mine*

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iudiex · 8 months

Note

🌈 ⭐️ 💻 🌼 🎙️ 📚 🎀 🥇 😍 📌

🌈 ― aesthetically pleasing blog

@fatedriven - ain't nobody does graphics like neo tbh and i love feasting my little eyeballs on whatever fun styles they come up with this time!

⭐️ ― convincing portrayal of a canon character

@kikun - i have loved gem's wanderer for... almost a year now? how long has it been? still one of my fave portrayals of any genshin character to date. i love him so much.

💻 ― excellent writing

my beloved @cloudhymn / @wulvend. i don't care how depressed or sick or dead in the water with a muse i am. nine's writing and portrayals will ALWAYS pull me (and my muses) from wherever the hell i am to want to instantly respond. truly such a privilege to rp with this little cryptid and develop my muses alongside them. nine's excellent writing has made me a better writer as well, and for that i cannot thank them enough.

🌼 ― creative headcanons

@caelune and every single one of rei's muses! i love love LOVE seeing what they come up with (from jy's leonine traits, to childe's love languages). it's always such a fun little treat to behold and then see how said headcanons influence their portrayal down the road.

🎙️ ― great to talk to

@dhahabibi - compelling characters, compelling ideas, and compelling conversation. i have spent half of our plotting giggling and twirling my hair. i loooove discussing plots with muns that are passionate for their muses, and i can definitely get that vibe here! <3

📚 ― nice threads to read

@ayahimes - i'm an astrid simp and would spend half my night reading anything and everything they wrote if my adhd didn't constantly have me pulled away. everything astrid touches turns to gold, and i love reading their writing - ESPECIALLY regarding female muses. they are all so powerful and diverse, and it's something i absolutely ADORE digesting.

🎀 ― all-around kind person

@baishouqijia - light of my life. i have known you since i joined this rpc, dima, and you are one the kindest - funniest bitches i know. even when we aren't writing i greatly value your friendship and the life advice and ears you've given me. a real one, my pantalone.

🥇 ― well-developed oc

@holyfell - and any original character that owen produces tbh. every. single. one. of. them. i don't think i have a favorite because they are all so unique and provide unique relationships to my muses at well. it's always so fun seeing what you come up with owen, from graphics to headcanons to back stories and is honestly a privilege. zhongli misses his husband tho.

😍 ― admiring from afar

@galactia - 👉👈 the kaeya and zhongli portrayals are really a fun little privilege to read, and though we haven't interacted, know that i love your stuff and enjoy seeing what shenanigans you come up with.

📌 ― a staple on the dash

@resolutepath - catch me following charlie from any blog at anytime, anywhere! it is simply a given, and you can pry this multimuse from my cold, dead hands.

#dies #⋅ ♛ ⋅ — › ɴᴏ ʙᴀɢᴜᴇᴛᴛᴇs ɪɴ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴛʀᴏᴏᴍ. — ⌜ ooc ⌟#⋅ ♛ ⋅ — › ᴊ'ᴀᴠᴏᴜᴇ ᴊᴇ ᴍᴀᴜᴅɪs. — ⌜ answered ⌟

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midnxght-sweet-time · 2 years

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☯︎ Hɪsᴛᴏʀʏ sʜᴀʟʟ ʀᴇᴘᴇᴀᴛ ☯︎

❥︎ Paring: ☢︎︎Scaramouche x ⚤︎ Kitsune!Reader

⚠︎ TW: None

᯽ A/N: Inspired by @fatuifucker 's Scara x Kitsune reader fic. This is kinda a shameless oc insert but I wanted to make this an x reader also to let scara simps enjoy it as well.

I spent a good 1 hr writing this with no plot idea in mind during physics class cuz I finished my work-

We're on the topic of electricity btw and I thought yea sure electro-

Reader is ofc based off my oc so there will be some parts where it wont make sense so sorry for that lmao

I like to think Ei put a small part of her conciousness in Scara when creating him. And scara knows no matter how much he change himself, it doesnt change the fact he is a part of her.

"If nothing else. Please spare these memories…"

The gentle breeze pushed past the purple locks of hair that covered an ominous face. The giant ornaments that hang by his giant hat sway in a rhythm, dancing with the grass. Indigo eyes, calm yet calculative, stalking his prey from atop of the hill. His sights set on a figure with sharp points of ears and a big pillow-like tail with a sniper like gaze. Eyebrows furrowed at the peaceful scene of sakura's raining softly to your face, like pink snow that hails from above, the giant tree as your winter cloud.

Their backs were facing him, their posture as stationary as the statue that sat quietly in Tenshukaku, the Omnipresent God. It was still and calming, a boring task he put himself through as he kept his pupils glued to that very being. Why was he so focused on them again?

"Scara." A whiff of lightning was shot in a panic towards the voice that came behind. In a quick flash whoever approached him dodged swiftly as the burst of energy struck down a tree. "Sheesh, I didn't think you were that paranoid." A mischievous whisper with a glaze of sweet gentleness rings in his ears like a morning bell of a wind chime. He looks up at the fox with a shock expression, their tail wags along with their hair that flows with the wind as a smile lifts their cheeks in delight.

The puppet looks back below the hill he was guarding and realizes what he'd been watching this whole time was a fox statue painted in gold by the light of the sun. With the sun now lowered, the light diminished and revealed the rusty gray of stone.

"Wow, I never knew you like fox statues."

He felt his eye twitch unconsciously. He swore to whatever unholy in the abyss to kill his creator– that he had just been spying on them. How did he lose sight of them? Did the rogue sakura petal that came very close to smacking him in the face distracted him for a brief moment, giving you time to escape? But how fast were you that you could easily leave without him noticing your figure running away? He doubts you have any abilities including teleportation, you don't have a vision–

"You look like you've seen a ghost Scara. Are you okay?"

His thoughts were cut off. A large inhale was heard as their reply. Scaramouche was clearly not okay, and you catch on quickly. As his eyes close shut with a clear irritated face, before any words can erupt from his mouth, you display a small black lunch box in front of him. His expression turned from upset to confused looking at what you have brought.

"Where did you keep that?" Scaramouche's brow raised looking at the box, wondering where it came from so suddenly. You have no bag for you to carry it around and last he checked, you weren't holding it. "A little trick, a handsome prince taught me ." A high pitched laughter came soon after that raised more of the puppet's annoyance. Every time he blinks, this sly fox seems to always surprise him.

The box was then laid down on the ground next to him, the lid popped open with a satisfying click. The smell of sweets blasted his porcelain nostrils. His eyes widened at the selection of different dangos, not just the tricolor ones you can get in the streets of Inazuma city.

"I made a variety today. Tomorrow I will make daifuku." Their ears twitched along to their cheerful tone. The many dangos dressed in different syrups and painted in different colors amazed the boy in front of them. It isn't everyday he gets these kinds of dangos unless it's seasonal. His delicate fingers grasped onto the stick that held a dango with tiny crumbled pieces of nuts latching onto the sticky ball.

"What flavor is this?" His tone is soft, almost like a whisper in the wind as his eyes focus on the sweet treat in awe. "Kinako dango. It's a kind of roasted soybean. Try it." You popped a goma dango into your mouth, the sweet sesame taste with the chewy treat makes you hum in delight. Scaramouche cautiously looks at the skewered treat, its soybean barrier falling off in bits and pieces the longer he stands it up in his hands. With a small hesitation, he chomps down onto a piece of dango while closing his eyes in anticipation.

It's delicious.

A sense of nostalgia washes through him. Time stood still for a moment, never minding the wind that rudely blew his hair in his face. Eyes widened slightly with a sweet comforting warmth filled his hollow chest that was once numbingly cold.

What is this feeling?

A blurry vision flashed in his mind as the once young fox that sat before him formed a figure of white as snow with eyes that sparkled like gold. A kitsune that's older by appearance that he has never seen before. A shrine maiden outfit that she wore reminds him of the dreadful pink one that tried to end him once. However, the background turned from the wilderness he was in, into a garden that he surely recognized— Tenshukaku.

Dejavu, is what he could describe this moment. It felt so similar yet he had no recollection of such memory. Why was he reminiscing over a scene he knows very well he never experienced for centuries he roamed this earth.

That's when he realized the feminine outfit he wore, colored with nothing but different shades of purple and gold, thighs long and thick as it folds on the floor with delicate soft hands that wrapped around a dango, one ball was missing. His maker's appearance. These are her memories.

You waved your hand in front of Scaramouche. He was stiff as a brick. One moment he showed a clear sentient movement of eating a treat and then he went motionless like a shutdown ruin guard that lost its core. You sat there for a few moments, internally panicking and trying to recall what you might have accidentally added into that Kinako dango.

'Did I accidentally add father's paralyzing drugs?'

You wondered silently, remembering all the times you would grab the wrong ingredient that led to disasters since your father, who is a scientist, tends to leave unsuspecting medicines in the kitchen for convenience pick. You still never understood why he never placed all drugs in one drawer instead of scattered in different cabinets. 'Just in case' he always says.

You slowly slide a piece of Kinako dango from Scaramouche's stick he seems to hold onto so tightly yet with a hint of fondness over before examining it to see if your theory was correct. Before you can even come to any conclusions, the feeling of purple electric shocks makes your hair stand on end, causing you to drop the dango and quickly grab the lunchbox to hide behind a tree for cover.

The loud sizzling sound of electricity flew in the air, a burst of chaotic energy lit the sky and painted the clouds purple. A roar of thunder came crashing down on the little picnic area you once sat with Scaramouche, the sound of a dangerous blast that chips away at the sturdy ground. You closed your eyes as your ears dropped at the deafening sound of lightning as you swore you heard your friend screamed. It wasn't out of pain from the possible 9 thousand volts, but a familiar sound of anger you can identify all too well. The lightning strike was way more ferocious than the ones you've encountered in Yashiori Island.

It was absolutely terrifying.

A few moments later, he stopped. The sky turned back to its evening sky of warm colors as if nothing ever happened. Still shaken up from whatever dangerous outburst Scaramouche had, your body stayed behind cover, too afraid to move. Your hands shaking as you struggled to hold the box of dangos that are now disorganized and the different flavors mixing with one another.

'What– in the name of the Hydro Archon, happened?' You wondered as your pupils stay constricted in absolute terror.

Your ears perked at the sand of quick crunching dirt before silence engulfed the area. You peaked out of your hiding spot and was almost taken aback how destroyed the place has been. A giant scorch mark claimed its territory as all the grass in its radius was burned away to ashes. Any flora that was in sight was charred with specks of purple electro lingering like fire sparks.

Scaramouche was nowhere to be seen.

You sighed in disappointment, another unsuccessful attempt at befriending this grumpy cat. You're no idiot. You know he is a fatui and messing with him is a suicide at best, yet you went with it anyways. Slowly his friendly facade has come to crack but even then it wasn't enough. You can read him like an open book but never understand the language inside. You can't understand him and you wonder if you ever will.

You stood silent, looking up ahead as a small sakura petal waves to you hello before landing by your feet to the burned ground. A chuckle escaped your throat. The light of the sun no longer presents as the moon now greets you with its cold gaze. Looking up you see the stars twinkling away, appearing slowly in the early night sky.

Are any of those stars your ancestors?

Your tail wagged at the thought. Ears perked up attentively that you could pinpoint the wind's destination.

As your legs carried you home down the hill, words rolled down your tongue in a whisper as you remembered a quote that always lift your spirits;

"Do not be blinded, do not waver. Keep walking that path you believed in."

#genshin impact #genshin fanfic #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin x reader #genshin x y/n #genshin x oc #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #scaramouche #genshin x you #genshin

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mint-yooxgi · 4 months

Text

Fight or Flight - Yandere!Redcap!Mingi X Tall!Chubby!Reader

Fae!AU & Yandere!AU - Part of the CoDN Thrill of the Hunt Collab

Genre: Fantasy, Mature, Horror, Angst, Fluff, Smut

Pairing: Mingi X Reader

Words: 7,327

Rating: Mature - 18+ MDNI

Warnings: Please read the warnings carefully, as this is a very heavy story dealing with many dark topics. This is also all of the warnings for this fic as it is one long one shot that I had to split into multiple parts, and I'm too tired right now to individually categorize all of these warnings to their respective parts. 8 ft tall Mingi. Slow burn. Violence: depiction of a massacre, a deer being slaughtered, as well as physical, verbal, sexual, and emotional, both alluded to and not. Blood and gore. Abuse: physical, emotional, verbal, and sexual, both alluded to and implied. Assault: physical, and sexual, both alluded to, implied, and attempted. OC has a really rough past, really this isn't for the faint of heart. Whipping, both alluded to, and done. Mentions of branding. Heavy themes of possession and ownership. Deception. Arson. Really, there's a lot of dark subject matter. Mingi falls hard and fast, thus, he simps a lot for the OC, but it's not a story written by me if Mingi doesn't simp for the OC. The reader is mentioned to be both tall and chubby, but it is not mentioned often, so it shouldn't disrupt the flow of the story when ready if you are not tall and/or chubby. I think that's everything, but if I missed something, please let me know! Smut: Biting/marking, outdoor sex, fingering (fem. rec), oral (fem. rec), hand job (male rec), come eating, overstimulation, Mingi has a dig bick, sex in a spring, really, it's very soft in comparison to the subject matter. This is a Yandere story, it will contain themes such as stalking, violence, obsession, possessive natures, and just general overall creepiness and swearing. You have been warned.

P.S. If there are any spelling or grammatical errors, please ignore them. I did my best through many rounds of editing, but some are liable to still slip through.

A/n: I am SO sorry this took me LITERALLY forever to complete. I meant to have this out so much earlier, and actually posted on time, but it turned out much, much longer than I ever anticipated it being. I'm really proud of how this story turned out, and I didn't want to split it into multiple parts because I felt it would take away from the story as a whole. I'm super excited for you all to read this one, as I had a tremendous amount of fun writing it, and I really hope you all love Mingi's and OC's journey as much as I do. Huge shoutout and thanks to @anyamaris and @kwanisms for listening to me ramble and rave about this story both before and during the writing process, and for always encouraging me while writing! Also, huge thank you to @sanjoongie for being so patient and understanding with me as I write this all out in full. I hope you all enjoy! As always feedback is greatly appreciated! Enjoy!~

Summary: Out of one horrible situation and into another, the cycle of abuse never stops. You've lived with monsters your whole life. So, what's one more?

P.P.S. Please don't let this flop guys. If you enjoyed it, please reblog!!!

Mini Masterlist

An annoyed sigh leaves his lips at the incessant chatter he hears around him. Low whispers rise in volume until the dull buzz of voices consumes him, interrupting his post meal relaxation. Irritation mars his features, his brow tugging downwards as he pulls the broken sliver of bone he had been using to pick at his teeth with out of his mouth.

“What is with your incessant whining?”

All Mingi had wanted to do was relax after dinner. In peace, within the confines of his makeshift encampment at the heart of his battalion, but it seems there’s been a commotion at the far edge.

“Humans, General.” One of his underlings, a vice-captain under his command, Darius, hisses. “They say they want to make a deal.”

Mingi scoffs, rolling his eyes, “Not too bright, are they?”

“When have humans ever been known to be smart?” Darius snickers.

Mingi heaves a long sigh, standing to his feet. “Given the length of this interaction, I can’t trust any of you to be competent enough to end this quickly.”

“They’re persistent, General.” He replies, flinching back as Mingi turns his sharp-eyed gaze to him.

“You let them think their words had any merit of importance to us.” The redcap general snaps. “No wonder they’re being so uncooperative.”

Striding through the encampment, the whispers finally come to a halt. A dead silence surrounds his soldiers as Mingi strolls through their ranks, eyes zeroing in on the small gathering of frail humans. Darius rushes along behind the proud general, whom stands a good eight feet tall. The tallest amongst his redcap companions.

A red sash is tied around Mingi’s bicep, alerting all to his rank within the gathered redcaps. There is a clear air of respect the others hold for him as he walks passed, holding his head high, no falter in his steps. Some even go so far as to look upon him in awe while others incline their head out of respect.

Reaching the edges of his encampment, Mingi scowls. “What’s the big idea here?”

“Ah, General!” Lias turns to him, a malicious grin tugging at the younger captain’s lips. “These humans insist on making a trade with us.”

“How did they even find us in the first place?” Mingi darts his gaze over to the three standing before him, just over the threshold of their protection line.

A woman seems to be holding another in her arms. The one with her head down doesn’t say much, but the one holding her trembles as she meets Mingi’s gaze. The male, slightly taller than the woman being held, stands a little straighter.

“We know mushroom rings will bring us where we want to be, or rather, to whom.” He replies, almost defiantly. “You just so happened to be the closest in the area.”

“Why are you wasting our time?” Mingi growls, teeth bared over much too sharp fangs.

“Please,” the woman holding the other in her arms seems desperate as she attempts to take a step forward.

That’s when he notices: the tall women is unconscious, being held up by the other. He quirks a brow, unaware a frail human such as the small one could ever be so strong.

“We just want to make a deal.” The man states, rather firmly.

Mingi’s gaze darts between the two humans.

“They want us to take their daughter for them.” Lias snorts, Darius laughing along with him. “As if we would care for such a useless mortal.”

“We know a little about your kind.” The woman continues. “Please, we know she’ll be better off here. We don’t want anything in return, just her safety.”

“She can earn her place.” The male adds. “She can look after herself, just please, take her with you.”

“We’re not about to gain something you don’t want.” Mingi retorts harshly, crossing his arms over his chest. “She has no use to us.”

“That’s not it at all.” The male is quick to shake his head, attempting to take a step towards the gathered redcaps only to be greeted by snarls and snapping fangs. He freezes. “Please-“

“We don’t need one of your kind slowing us down.” Mingi states, narrowing his eyes at the way the unconscious woman sways slightly. Honestly, he’s surprised this woman hasn’t fallen over yet, or caused the other holding her up to collapse under her seemingly dead weight.

“She won’t slow you down!” The woman is quick to protest.

“Watch your tongue, mortal.” Darius snaps. “This is no ordinary general you’re speaking to.”

The woman bows her head, cowering back and holding the other tighter to her chest. Though, due to the height difference, it looks quite awkward. A fact only echoed by the snickers Mingi can hear echo out behind him.

“Oh, come on,” Lias tilts his head slightly, a mischievous gleam in his gaze. “This could be fun. We could always use another pack mule.”

Some more snickers are heard from around the area, along with the snapping of jaws in agreement. The harsh clicking of fangs only rises in sound, and Mingi can smell the spikes of fear from the two conscious humans. A taste he absolutely revels in.

“The human would be safe with us from whatever outside forces you’re referring to.” Lias continues, his lips stretching widely over all too sharp teeth.

Mingi spares a glance around at his men, noting their sudden change in attitude. The eager gleams he sees throughout the crowd have him heaving a sigh.

“Very well,” he turns, beginning to walk away from this whole matter. He’ll let his men have their fun, and with any luck, the human will be dead come morning. “She’s your responsibility, though. If she survives.”

A cheer rises up through the surrounding redcaps as the tall women gets torn from the other’s arms and dragged across the protection barrier. Mingi thinks nothing of the way a faint smell of blood rises on the air, knowing his men are probably already having their fun after bringing the human properly into their realm. The other two have already been sent back, their memories altered forever. If they even remember having a daughter at all would be a miracle.

Entering his own private tent, Mingi settles into his favourite chair. Kicking his feet up onto a little stump, he leans back, relaxing into the evening chill that begins to settle over the land. They’ve still got a long ways to go to return to their keep, the scouting mission having taken a lot out of them. The rogue redcaps they had been hunting have all been dealt with. Traitors, every last one of them. The fight they had put up was gruesome, but as always, Mingi and his men came out on top.

Despite it all, some of his men still have energy to burn as he hears the familiar hooting and hollering of his subordinates last long into the night.

***

The next day, Mingi wakes to the encampment practically all cleaned up. Some of his men are finishing last minute preparations for travel, their bags packed and stored for easier maneuvering. All that’s left is to secure his own lodgings for the next leg of their journey.

“The human finally woke up.” Darius informs Mingi as he steps to the head of the line.

“She’s not dead?” Mingi quirks a brow, barely bothering to scan the gathered ranks to see if he can spot the women he saw last night.

“We figured we could use her for some entertainment-“ at Mingi’s sharp glare, Darius stops himself. “She’s surprisingly stronger than she looks. We’ve loaded her with a few packs and told her to carry them for us, or else she won’t like the outcome.” The vice-captain shrugs. “She complied.”

Mingi hums to himself, turning towards the direction they’ll be setting off in in a few minutes. He finds it odd for a human to be so complacent. All of the stories he’s heard contradict such simplistic actions. He was expecting screaming, and an attempt to run the first moment she regained consciousness.

Even more shocking is the fact that you’re still alive.

“Don’t let it go on too long,” Mingi shoots him a look out of the corner of his eyes. “Have your fun, but make sure she doesn’t slow me down.”

“Of course, General.” Darius nods, saluting him before running off to finish some last minute things.

Quietly, Mingi observes his battalion. He can see Lias barking orders at some subordinates to finish packing the rest of the camp quickly. Others appear to be scrambling about, and true to Darius’ word, Mingi spots that same tall woman from last night standing off to the side.

There’s nothing special about you. At least, from what Mingi can tell. You stand upright, spine straight with three packs carried on your figure. Their bulk simply adds to your own, nearly drowning you in their sheer size. Your face looks worn, and tired, but you move around where they instruct you to without complaint.

Mingi just hopes you can keep up with them.

A few minutes later, the redcaps are on the move. Multiple shoot you looks of disgust as they run passed, growling lowly in your direction. Some even go to far as to purposely run into you, spitting on you as they knock you over in your attempts to keep pace with the company.

It isn’t more than an hour into the morning when you start to fall behind.

Mingi heaves out a sigh, smelling the faintest bit of blood again in the air. A scent not uncommon in a group of redcaps, given their premise. Though, what truly annoys him is the subtle limp you attempt to hide as he marches over to you at the very rear of his guard.

Again, his men part for him silently. The simple power he exudes enough to silence even the rowdiest of the bunch.

“Are you that incompetent that you do not know how to walk properly, mortal?” He sneers, irritation clear on his features.

“I can walk just fine.” You reply bluntly.

“Then, keep up.” He snaps, turning so as not to waste another word on you for the moment.

With Mingi’s back to you, he fails to notice the harsh glare you send his way, but his subordinates do.

A harsh slap rings out through the forest, a dull thud heard soon after.

“You dare look upon our general with such vile contempt in your eyes?” Lias’ voice booms out through the surrounding redcaps, catching Mingi’s attention.

He freezes, turning to spare a glance over his shoulder.

There you rest, face down on the ground as you attempt to push yourself up. Your clothes are even more disheveled than before, dirt smearing your cheek. Yet, that harsh look still rests upon your face, even as the smell of blood becomes more prominent in the air.

“I didn’t ask for this.” You keep your voice low, but still clear enough for everyone around you to hear.

“Well, get used to it, Sweetheart,” Lias hisses, tugging you harshly back to your feet by the back of your neck. “You’re no better than a pet, now.”

You say nothing, instead opting to purse your lips. Your eyes narrow as you watch Lias retreat from you, hands fisted around the straps of the packs you carry as your whole body seems to tremble.

If Mingi didn’t know any better, he’d say you’re angry.

No… not angry. Disappointed.

Turning back to face front, Mingi decides to ignore you for the rest of the day. You’re not his responsibility, and how his subordinates treat you is truly none of his concern. Really, if it were up to him, he would have sent those two other humans bargaining for you to join them here in the fae realm packing. Perhaps he should have made an example of you all when he had the chance. Only, now, he’s stuck with you, and he’ll have to learn to deal with it, for the sake of his men. It’s not like you’re the only human he’s ever dealt with before.

Luckily, for the rest of the day, travel does not get halted again. You manage to keep up just fine, only falling behind once more near sunset. Mingi had wanted to travel for longer this day, covering more distance and hearing no complaints from neither you nor his men.

The faster they get home, the swifter he can deal with the mess that is you.

Mingi wants nothing to do with you. All you are to him is a pathetic little human. So frail, he could break you with the flick of his wrist. His eyes narrow on your figure as he sees you collapse against the side of a tree, none of his underlings sparing you any supplies as they set up for the night.

No food is offered to you, but you manage to scrounge some water. Your throat burns, and your feet ache as if they’re ready to fall off at a moment’s notice. The stitch in your side is finally calming down, and you’re just grateful none of these fae have ordered you to help them set up camp for the night. No, they stated they didn’t want you touching anything, or doing something wrong, and for once, you’re thanking your lucky stars for such a harsh verdict.

Lightly, you rub at your leg, right where you know that fresh wound still resides. It’s not a deep cut, but twisting wrong, or moving around too much aggravates the scar. Not to mention your limp which has returned even worse than before, due to the speed at which you’re expected to move.

Despite it all, you don’t say anything. No, you learned the hard way what talking back meant. Though, that might just be your one salvation through this all. Perhaps tomorrow you’ll see how far you can push these redcaps, and discover if their nature really lives up to their legacy.

For now, you settle deeper against that tree. It’s late, and you are exhausted. Sleep is one of the best things for you now, especially since there’s no way you can return to the life you previously once had. Thinking back on it now, you don’t know if you’d ever want to.

Not that you really ever had a choice.

The next morning brings another early start, you being commanded to carry even more than yesterday on your back. The only saving grace is that it seems the speed at which the band you’re travelling with has lessoned, but that doesn’t stop your whole body from aching.

Two more days pass like this, insults thrown at you by the surrounding redcaps, only for them to take out their amusement on you by either scratching you by ‘accident’, spitting on you, or pushing you to the ground. You manage to get some food, but it’s both rotten and vile. You’re honestly surprised your body hasn’t given up on you, yet.

You start to complain, but to your relief, or rather, disappointment, no one bothers to take your whining seriously. That, or they’re quick to shut you up, but not in the way you so desperately hope.

It’s around midday when you feel yourself lose your footing. The sun is shining brightly in the sky above your head, a few clouds drifting lazily by as you tumble harshly to the ground. The worst part is, you end up landing badly on your injured side. Unluckily for you, both that scar and your bad ankle are on your right leg which just so happens to land awkwardly on top of the root you tripped over.

You attempt to keep them at bay, but the sudden sharp pain you feel shoot up your leg sends tears to your eyes. You can practically feel your cut tear itself anew, a dampness seeping into the material of your tattered pants. Your breathing is heavy, and you can hardly force yourself back onto your hands, your entire body groaning in protest. Every ache pulses through you with each heartbeat, and in the back of your mind, you wonder if this is truly the end.

“What’s the hold up this time?” You hear a stern voice huff out above your head.

Mustering enough energy, you tilt your head upwards at the approaching figure. There’s a brief moment where the sun blinds you, filtering through the branches in such a way that burns your vision with a bright light until a shadow looms over you. Blinking reveals the redcap’s general standing before you, a look of pure ire marring his features as he glares down at you.

“Get up.” He growls, not even bothering to nudge you with his foot. You’re too far beneath him to bother.

A sad attempt is made by you once more before you’re collapsing on top of your weakened arms.

“I. Can’t.” You manage to get out through gritted teeth, squeezing your eyes shut through the pain.

Mingi snorts. “Pathetic.”

With a roll of his eyes, he storms away from you, barking out orders to set up the encampment. From what you can hear, he plans to move out during the night.

They need to stop to eat, anyways.

Insults are hurled your way by various underlings, some even going so far as to step on you as they walk passed. It’s as if you are worth no more than the dirt beneath their feet as you continue to lay there, weak and injured, just waiting and begging for death to finally claim you.

“You’ve really been a thorn in the general’s side ever since you joined us.” A voice to your left catches your attention.

“I didn’t ask to become a slave.” You retort is half grumbled into the earth, brow furrowing as you glare in the voice’s direction.

A chuckle is heard from above you. “Last I checked, you weren’t actually bound to this group.”

Out of the corner of your vision, you see a male, or rather, what appears to be a male, crouch beside you. He appears a bit shorter than his companions, perhaps even an inch or two shorter than you, and that’s saying something.

“My name’s Windfel,” he says lightly. “I’ve never met a human before. What’s your name?”

“Don’t worry about it,” you huff, finally managing to push yourself upwards and shrug those packs off of your back.

A hiss escapes you as you accidentally apply to much pressure to your right side, hand grasping over where that reopened cut resides. The dull throbbing you can feel, mixed in with the sight of days old blood and dirt only has you wincing. The wound is more than likely infected, and probably has been for the past few days. Only, you don’t have anything to treat it with, and it’s not like you can go around asking for help.

“Oh, you’re more clever than we give you credit for.” He grins. “You must know that telling a fae your true name means they have complete power over you.”

“You’re the ones who assumed me incompetent in the first place.” Your retort is low, and almost immediately, you flinch, as if bracing yourself for an impact of some sorts.

Again, he only chuckles. “That we did.”

“Is there something you want, Windfel?” The question is a bit harsh, despite you avoiding his gaze.

“Not in particular at the moment,” he hums. “I’m simply satisfying a mere curiosity. I’ve read a lot about you humans, thanks to the experiments in the Latha Court.”

“You experiment on humans?” Your eyes widen, a surge of panic washing through you.

“Yes.” He replies, somewhat cheerfully with a nod of his head. “We learn a lot about your kind that way.”

“You’re despicable.” A shudder caresses your spine.

“So I’ve been told.” He grins. “I am a redcap, you know.”

Out of the corner of your eyes, you notice him tip a flat cap stained dark red in your direction.

“I’m aware.” Your answer is blunt as you attempt to stand to your feet. You don’t get very far, for you immediately fall back onto your ass as your arms give out beneath you.

A small ‘oof’ escapes you as you land on your right side, eyes squeezing shut as more tears spring up from beneath where you’ve always tried to hide them.

“You’re not looking so good,” he observes.

“Thanks for noticing.” A low grumble is all he receives in response as you attempt to push yourself upwards once more.

Another chuckle. “I like your sense of humour.”

A side-eyed look is sent his way curtesy of you, “If you want to call it that.”

“Come on, I’ll help you.” He goes to lift you to your feet.

Immediately, you cower away from him, a brief panic filling your gaze as you fixate on his hands.

“I have no intentions of harming you right now.” He replies, somewhat calmly.

“Why are you trying to help me?” You eye him cautiously.

He shrugs. “I’m bored.”

As much as you don’t appreciate his answer, you have no better options. Somewhat reluctantly, you allow him to help you to your feet, guiding you to a tent already prepped and ready. He lifts the flap, allowing you to stumble your way inside and sitting in a chair as per his instruction.

The tent is large enough to fit three people comfortable, appearing more spacious on the inside than from the outside. You suppose it has to do with the magic of the fae, considering they’re able to store everything and carry it so efficiently in such packs, no larger than what you’re used to calling knapsacks.

“You know, you really have caused a great deal of annoyance for our general since your arrival.” He says as he grabs a roll of white medical cloth from a little side table.

“I never asked for this.” You mumble, keeping your head down.

“I’m aware you were brought unconscious into our ranks.” Windfel replies. “Is there a reason for that?”

“Not that I’m obliged to tell you.” Your eyes narrow suspiciously, watching every movement he makes closely.

You highly doubt anyone will come to your aid if you decide to scream for help.

“Just making conversation,” he responds, lifting his hands lightly in front of himself in a shrug. “I’m not a healer, so all I’m willing to do is let you wrap that wound. If you’re lucky, you won’t have to dress it when we get back to the keep.”

You purse your lips, eyeing Windfel as he places the roll of cloth beside you. A moment later, and he’s moving around the tent, rummaging through his own pack and pulling out a fresh pair of clothes.

“What, exactly, is this ‘keep’ you all continuously talk about?” You ask, somewhat warily.

He completely ignores your question, tossing the spare clothes at you.

“I don’t use these anymore, and although we typically enjoy the smell of blood, we don’t enjoy when wounds fester.” His nose crinkles along with his words. “There’s a small stream about a quarter of a mile to the northeast. I’ll take you there once you’re ready.”

“You’re being awful nice to me for someone who doesn’t like my kind,” You observe, eyeing him carefully.

“I care about my general, and anything I can do to… lesson his burdens, I will.” Comes Windfel’s simple reply. “When you’re ready, I’ll be outside.”

You watch him step out the opposite flap of the tent he entered, brow furrowing as the material slaps shut. Shouts can be heard outside, along with the hustle and bustle of the rest of the encampment being set up. You bet the rest wouldn’t have even notice you moved from that tree, yet.

Tilting your head downwards, you look at the clothes in your hand, feeling the fabric between your fingers. It’s been far too long since you’ve gotten any type of new clothing. Back in the human realm, the only time you got a new piece of clothing was when- no. You shouldn’t be thinking about that right now.

Swallowing thickly, you look over at that roll of white medical cloth. As much as you don’t trust this redcap, this is the first ounce of kindness you’ve received in quite a long time. There’s a part of you screaming at yourself not to believe it, but there’s another part, a part much more vulnerable that clings onto the hope that maybe, just maybe, things are starting to look up for you.

Your life has never been worth much, but perhaps someone is actually starting to see value in you that has never been there before. Then again, you probably shouldn’t get your hopes up. They’ve fallen too many times for you to count.

Taking a deep breath in, you grab that roll of medical cloth. Carefully, you wrap it in the bundle of clothes from Windfel, and stand back to your feet. Though you wobble slightly, you’re able to steady yourself, and within a minute, you’re exiting through the same flap that redcap did only moments before.

A single nod is all you give him as you stand outside the tent. A single nod of which he returns, motioning for you to follow him deep into the woods.

***

The journey to the stream is slow, taking well over an hour to get there. The distance is much greater than you were expecting, and the path isn’t easy at all. As much as Windfel seems to be ‘helping’ you, he did not once offer you a hand through the rough terrain of the woods through your travels.

“Will there be enough time?” You ask, eyeing the trickling water at the edge of the bank.

“Relax,” Windfel huffs out lightly. “Knowing the general, he’ll probably spend at least another two hours resting. So, as long as you don’t take too long, we’ll be fine.”

You purse your lips in response, but say nothing.

“I have no interest in watching you bathe, either, human.” He says, turning so his back is to you. “So, you needn’t worry about that.”

“I’ve never had much privacy, anyways.” You grumble, but as soon as the words leave your lips, your eyes widen. Terrified, you glance at Windfel’s back.

Choosing to either ignore your statement, or you entirely, he stands there, unmoving, His back is straight as he gazes out into the woods in the direction you both came, paying no mind to even the sound of water trickling behind you.

You turn back around.

Darting your gaze to the stream once more, you notice how clear the water seems to be. The movement against the stones appears languid, a gentle breeze flitting through the trees in the next moment. It’s almost as if the stream is inviting you in, luring you into it’s pristine waters, and the longer you stare at its enchanting depths, the more you long to dip your feet into its calming waters.

“What’s the catch?” You grit your teeth, cursing yourself for being so stupid.

“You humans always think there’s some sort of trick to everything, don’t you?” Windfel chuckles, and suddenly, you feel his hot breath on your neck. You didn’t even hear him move. “I could push you in, if you like, but I don’t think that would bode well for your wound.”

Your spine straightens. “I can get in myself, thank you very much.”

“You are most welcome.” The way you can practically feel him smile against your back has a shiver running down your spine.

A moment later, his presence at your back lessens, and you find yourself able to breathe easier once more. You spare a glance over your shoulder to see him resting in that same spot as before, his back turned as he begins to hum a small tune to himself. Eyeing him cautiously for a few moments, you finally turn back around to face the stream, deciding that he won’t actually do anything to you. Besides, even you are starting to not be able to handle your own stench, and that’s saying something.

Slowly, carefully, you begin stripping yourself of your old clothes. The tattered shirt you wear gets tossed onto the ground beside the new one, your pants following shortly after. You have enough mind to leave your undergarments on, just in case Windfel decides to play a trick of some sort on you, or run away with both sets of clothes. You still need something to wear, and Windfel is still a man.

Men are never good at keeping their promises. You learned that the hard way.

Stepping towards the very edge of the stream, you take your time sitting down. Each movement is stiff, pain shooting through your right side as you finally get a good look at the cut on your upper leg.

The wound festers, dried pus caked on the edge. The cut itself is swollen, days old blood littering the skin around it. From how bad it looks, you’re scared to even touch it, but a creeping thought in the back of your mind keeps you inching towards the water with every passing second.

You’ve had worse.

Carefully, you dip your toes into the crystalline water. It’s a bit cool to the touch, and causes you to jerk back, surprised by its icy feel. Yet, it’s alluring in a way, as if it’s the softest of silk that has ever caressed your skin. A luxury you have never been afforded, and you take the time now to savour it, despite the chill that clings to your feet as you submerge them beneath the gentle flow of the stream.

In no time at all, you feel yourself get used to the water’s icy chill, sinking deeper and deeper until you’re fully sitting on the edge of the river bank. Being mindful of your leg, you angle yourself so you can lean towards the water, cupping your hands together in order to gather the cool liquid in your palms and clean your wound.

The first few handfuls sting, but you grit your teeth and bear it. With each handful of water, more and more of the dirt, grime, and blood is washed away, revealing the cut to have gotten longer over the past few days. All that running around must have strained it, and reopened the wound over and over again, leading to the edges widening, and the cut deepening.

No wonder your whole leg has been aching. You just hope the infection isn’t already in your blood. There’s no telling what may happen to you, then.

“Oh my, that looks bad.”

A voice from above your head startles you, and you nearly go toppling into the stream. Looking up with a hand clutched over your chest, your eyes wide in panic, you see Windfel leaning over you, inspecting your cut.

“A few more days and you would have had to cut it off,” he remarks casually.

You physically feel your heart drop, your eyes briefly shifting to your right ankle. You swallow thickly, a jolt of pain travelling all the way from your foot upwards to your hip as tears unwillingly spring to your eyes. Almost involuntarily, you begin rapidly shaking your head, protests falling from numb lips.

“I’m just shanking ya!” He laughs, boisterously at that. He even goes so far as to pat your shoulder a few times, wiping tears of joy from the corner of his eyes.

“You’re not very funny.” You whisper, expression hard.

Windfel blinks, “Geez, tough crowd.”

You purposely avoid his gaze, looking back out over to the opposite bank of the stream. Your lips are pursed in a thin line as you slowly manage to get your breathing under control. Even you can hear the thunderous pounding of your own heartbeat, so you sure as hell know that Windfel can, too.

“I thought you weren’t going to watch me.” You mutter, slowly turning yourself further into the stream.

“No, I said I had no interest in watching you bathe.” He remarks, matter of factly. “There’s a difference.”

“If you say so,” you mutter, slipping into the water and putting a little bit of distance between you and that redcap. Not that it would really matter, in the long run.

The chill of the water causes your body to stiffen for a moment, only for the entirety of your muscles to immediately relax. The chill morphs into a gentle caress, and as you sink down to allow the water up to your neck, you find yourself letting out a small, blissful sigh through your nose. Involuntarily, your eyes slip shut.

“Feels better, doesn’t it?” Windfel hums.

Your eyes shoot open, turning to look over at the redcap who is back to standing in his original spot, facing away from you.

“I-“ you swallow, keeping your voice low. “I haven’t had a chance to bathe like this in a long time.”

“Yeah,” Windfel snorts. “I could tell.”

He makes a gesture similar to fanning the air in front of himself, and you find yourself rolling your eyes. You even go to far as to splash water in his direction before you can stop yourself.

Even though not a single drop of water touches him, your eyes still go wide. Not a muscle moves as you stare at him, your heartbeat thudding once more in your ears.

“Damn, human, you really are uptight.” Windfel snickers. “As if a little water could hurt me. It’s nice when such creatures are playful. Adorable, even.”

“I don’t think many would agree with you.” You mutter, gently pushing yourself backwards and creating just a tiny bit more distance between yourself and him.

“You’re probably right,” he hums. “Though, we all can agree on liking to be amused.”

“You confuse me.” You state blankly, rubbing at your skin lightly beneath the water and washing away any excess dirt and grime you can see.

“The feeling is very much mutual, human.” He replies. “I bet if you lived on your own as long as I have in the wild, you’d feel the same way.”

“Oh, yeah,” you hum, clearly not convinced as you dunk your head under the water briefly. “I’m sure.”

“Oh, come on! You’re telling me you’ve never lived in the woods before? Never fought for your own survival all by you little lonesome?” Windfel’s voice is slightly mocking, and you know he’s probably only trying to get a rise out of you.

Unfortunately, though, it’s working.

“I think you and I have two very different definitions of survival.” You say, scrubbing a bit harder at your skin.

“Perhaps that is true,” he hums once more, as if considering your words. “But come on, you can’t tell me you’ve never wanted to know what it’s like to live on your own.”

“How do you know if I’ve lived on my own or not?” You retort, eyes narrowing slightly in suspicion.

“I don’t.” Windfel shrugs. “From what those of us who care enough to read about your kind can gather, it’s observed that you usually go out on your own once you reach a certain age.”

“And you’re one of those that have read about my kind?” You quirk a brow.

The longer you spend talking with Windfel, the more you seem to ease into the conversation. Though the water continues to feel nice around you, you also decide that it’s time to remove yourself from the stream so you can quickly dry off and make it back to the others. The last thing you need is for something to happen, or for you to finally face the wrath of a redcap.

At this point, that may just be a blessing.

There’s almost a slight tug at the back of your mind. With each step you take towards the bank and your awaiting clothes, a small voice tells you to stay. The water seems to be caressing your entire body, becoming denser around you with each step. It’s almost as if the stream is trying to hold you down, to force you to not leave its waters. Yet, despite it’s almost enchanted callings, you persist, managing to pull yourself out of the crystalline water and back onto the side of the bank.

The consequences of staying far outweigh the rewards in your mind.

You fail to notice how Windfel’s brow quirks in surprise, but he continues on the conversation as if nothing is wrong.

“I’ve read a few things, yes.” He confirms. “Knowledge is power, or haven’t you heard?”

“Power is power, no matter where in the world.” You grumble, flicking off as much excess water on your body as you can before beginning to wrap your upper thigh with that medical cloth. Once finished, you tie it off quickly, but not tight enough that it will hurt you even more than you already are. A moment later, you stand back to your feet.

“Spoken like a true scholar,” Windfel teases lightly, his back still turned to you.

Slowly, you begin pulling on the clothes he leant you. The pants are a little short around the ankles, but they fit surprisingly well. Considering the size difference between the both of you, you’re surprised the shirt even managed to pull over your head, but it’s loose, and you’re grateful for the soft material that graces your skin.

“Still, you should definitely try living on your own at some point.” He remarks casually. “There’s no feeling quite like freedom.”

Your whole body freezes, gaze slowly trailing over to where Windfel stands, now at the edge of the wood. He seems to be holding a bundle in his hands, and when you look down, you realize that it’s your old, raggedy clothes.

“I wouldn’t know.” You state, rather firmly as your eyes narrow at the redcap across from you.

“Oh, yes, well,” he finally turns back around to face you, a grin tugging at his lips to reveal all too sharp fangs. “About that…”

“If you’re going to kill me, get it over with.”

Your words clearly catch him off guard, for now it’s his turn for his eyes to widen in shock.

“My dear, why would I want to kill you?” He chuckles, shaking his head. “You’ve done nothing but be forced upon us since the start. I may be a monster, but I’m not unreasonable.”

“Like I’ve never heard that one before.” You mutter, rolling your eyes.

Again, your breath hitches as soon as the words leave your lips, and you find yourself flinching backwards away from Windfel instinctually.

He frowns, but doesn’t comment on it. Instead, he says, “I told you. I care about my general and how much your presence burdens him. It’s easier this way if you just disappear.”

Your eyebrows shoot up in surprise. “You want me to disappear, but not kill me?”

“For the most part.” He blinks, as if it’s the most obvious thing in the world.

“How do you expect me to do that?” You frown, doing whatever you can to hide the clear exasperation in your voice.

“Run away.” He states.

“Excuse me?”

“Run away.” He repeats with a slight shrug of his shoulders. “I doubt they’ll even notice you’re gone.”

Now, it’s your turn to blink at him. Once. Twice. Three times in disbelief as you cannot keep your mouth from falling open in shock.

“You’re shitting me.”

“I think the whole point of you bathing was for that to no longer be the case.” He says smartly. “I told you. You’re a burden to our general, and if I can relieve that burden from his shoulders, I’ll do whatever it takes. You’re not currently being hunted, so there’s no reason to kill you right now.”

“And where will I go?” You ask, incredulously. “I have nothing-“

“Find the Latha court, I’m sure those human lovers will take you in.” He cuts you off, a slight twitch to his brow. “Go that way,” he points off to your left with a clawed finger. “There’s a small town. I’m sure someone will give you a hand.”

“Like you did?” You quirk a brow, eyeing Windfel carefully.

“Exactly.” He nods. “Now, you best be on your way, little mortal. My patience is starting to wear thin.”

Though the last part of his words he says in a cheerful voice, the way his eyes gleam in the light of the setting sun unnerves you.

Without waiting for another chance, you take the one presented to you.

“I better not see you around again.” Windfel hums, and you can hear him beginning to trudge in the opposite direction that you are. “You won’t like it if you do.”

A shiver caresses your spine at his words, and you find yourself picking up your pace. Reaching the opposite end of the little clearing where the stream is, you quickly spare a glance over your shoulder. Windfel is nowhere to be seen, and you do not know if it should relieve you, or terrify you. All you do know, is that you have to put as much distance between yourself and that gang of redcaps as you can. To start, you just have to keep putting one foot in front of the other.

The trek into town is a lot easier than you thought it would be. It only takes you about forty minutes to reach the outskirts, and with every step, you seem to gain better footing than before. The ache in your leg is dulling, and your head is the clearest it’s been in weeks. You don’t trip over any roots, or stumble over any rocks, either. If you didn’t know any better, you’d say things are actually starting to look up for you.

That’s when it hits you.

Is this even reality anymore?

Windfel could have cast a glamour over you. You could be under some sort of spell, or undergone some weird magic while bathing in that stream. You have no way of knowing what is true or not, unless you talk to someone. Even then, your chances of them tricking you are high, but it may be the only way to tell what is true or not.

Standing at the edge of the town, you do a quick scan of those you can see. The sun has already set, and the faint glow of lanterns casts a warmth around the surrounding buildings. There seems to be only a few people milling about, and honestly, you shouldn’t really call them people at all. From what you can gather, all these beings appear to faeries. Some have grand wings that sprout from their backs, ranging from feathered to those of the insect variety. Others, you can only discern from their height and pointed ears. The few flashes of razor sharp teeth aren’t that reassuring, either.

The only relief seems to be that all of the inhabitants steer perfectly clear of you. Save for one, who watches you fidget from across the way. His gaze dances with amusement, and you don’t know if that unnerves you more than if he were glaring. Long, dark hair is pulled back in a half-ponytail to showcase his sharp features. He sits on the edge of some steps leading up to what appears to be a shop of some sorts, his elbows resting on his thighs as he leans forward.

The moment he catches you staring, his eyebrows quirk curiously.

Turning away quickly, you curse yourself. You’ve always been used to blending in back home, that you didn’t realize just how much you’d stick out in the Fae realm. Perhaps you really are in over your head, but where else are you supposed to go?

A voice, smooth and deep, coming from behind startles you.

“Are you lost, Little One?”

#thrill of the hunt #cultofdionysusnet #mfu-net #yandere mingi #yandere ateez #mingi scenario #mingi imagine #ateez scenario #ateez imagine #kpop scenario #kpop imagine #yandere kpop #kpop au #fantasy au #chubby reader #tall reader #fae au

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lahotelbellamuerte · 2 years

Text

𝗧𝗜𝗠𝗘 𝗧𝗥𝗔𝗩𝗘𝗟 & 𝗧𝗛𝗘 𝗙𝗢𝗥𝗖𝗘 - episode 06. vanilla milkshake

series masterlist ! current: vanilla milkshake! next: james hargreeves

paring: five x eight (oc) warnings; suggestive language, again the handler being weird, mystery-like for two seconds, not proofread ! word count: 5.3k notes; me simping solely for kate walsh might be just me.

1995

FIVE had then decided their fate, the minute he touched the Handler's hand. The three transporting to a new place and time. That was the way it had always been done for the Commission.

The older woman smiled and began walking, the couple walking close behind her, "I must admit, Number Five, Eight," she began as they stepped out of a large telescope, "In all the time I've been here, I've never met anyone like the two of you."

Five and Eight then walked on either side of her, hands in their pockets, not saying anything to the woman. The two had never been huge fans of the Commission. And flattery coming from one of their higher-ups made them annoyed.

"Hazel and Cha-Cha, for example, are talented, certainly but they can't see the big picture. Your spunk, your enterprising spirit," She continued putting an arm around Eight pulling the blonde closer, "It reminds me a great deal of myself, you especially, catching all the lad's eyes."

Eight rolled her eyes in annoyance, never was a fan of the woman. The number of times her husband had to talk her out of almost committing murder was up there. The chances are low, but never zero. Five on the other side of the conversation was smiling slightly, knowing his wife was not enjoying this one bit.

"You know if things work out, one of you could just make a marvelous successor," she said as they walked into the building, removing and handing her coat and case to someone else.

Eight scoffed at the statement, them successors? Five already hated the fact that he had to ask for help from this woman. While Eight wasn't a fan of working for a large corporation. Plus, she had more things to worry about.

"I'd like to discuss the logistic of my family's safety," Five spoke up, rather ignoring her comments, "At your earliest convenience..." he paused and shivered as he looked over at his wife going up the stairs. He was a man after all, "A housing situation."

Eight only hummed at the statement. He did have a great deal of cock-blocking, maybe it was time she gave in. Maybe...

"Such chutzpah," The Handler commented as they continued going up the steps, "It's refreshing, I'll admit. Slow down, Five. All in good time," she replied with a flat tone, not wanting to know why he needed a housing situation right then and there. But something told her it wasn't to sleep, anything but.

"In fact, now that you've finally agreed to work with us, we've got all the time in the world," She commented as she followed the blonde not far ahead.

The blonde who was ahead sighed, and cracked her fingers. She knew her way around, now all she need was to find a certain someone. Having a limited amount of time, she walked quicker. Raising her head and giving a few smiles to any of her old co-workers.

"Miss Eight, it's good to see you!" Someone commented as they walked down the hall, the blonde nodded in their direction.

"Look good Eight!" A man whistled from down the hall, Eight smirked at the comment. It wasn't new that everyone liked the older woman before. She had aged like fine wine as men would say around the office. And now? She looked like a new bottle of expensive wine. The blonde then turned the corner, Five would have to tell her whatever she told him later. Eyes

"The Commission works in support of a delicate balance between the timeline of events and mankind's free will. The briefcase is no longer part of your kit, Five, Eight. Free your mind." The Handler said as they passed over the briefcase room.

"You're management now. One of us," She said seeing barely where Eight had gone. Pursing her lips she nodded someone in her direction, to see what she was looking for.

"Your wife always off to her own adventures huh?" The Handler asked walking along the hall, still curious as to where she had gone.

Five nodded, "Always had, don't need to know what she does, just as long as she comes back to me," he finished with a shrug. Knowing Eight knew how to take care of herself if anything he was worried for whoever she met along the way.

The Handler noticed his attitude and ignored it, "Anyway the floor is all management. Each one is responsible for one major event at a time."

"So many of them," Five said as he looked down at an office with rows of people at desks. All diligently typing based on their cases.

"Impressive, isn't," The Handler gushed, "Being part of something so grand, come along, Eight is probably there already."

"Whenever someone chooses the wrong path, and the timeline is changed, the Commission gets a report from field agents on the ground. These field reports are sorted and assigned to a case manager. They determine if anyone needs to be removed from the equation to ensure that their event happens as it should. Based on that determination the case manager sent instructions via pneumatic to temporal assassins like you two formally were." She said as she showed the room where an older woman was sending the instructions in tubes.

"Any queries so far?" She asked Five looking at him.

"Yeah," he scoffed, "Who was the case manager handling me and my wife?"

"Ah, you mean the apocalypse?" She asked the boy, who nodded.

On the other side of the offices was the blonde, strutting down the hallway. People all shuffled to get out of her way as she looked dangerous and serious with a file under her arm. One she was able to swipe from the office needed. As she reached a door she looked down the halls that had emptied. Pushing the door open and then closes it behind her.

Pressing on the lock she moved forward and placed down the file, "Okay, this is where it starts," she mumbled, and with a crack, she was gone from thin air. The first time she had traveled through time successfully. Appearing in a large clearing of trees, as she saw a house far down, walking closer to the building. Peeking in through a window she saw a woman wrapping her arm with cloth, it seemed as if she was bleeding, "You've grown," she whispered to herself, reaching to touch the glass.

"Hey who are you!" A voice suddenly called startling Eight, quickly she ducked and grasped her chest. With that, she disappeared with a crack again. The door that led to the back opened and revealed a teen boy glaring out the woods. His eyes furrowed as if he had just seen a ghost.

Meanwhile back at the Commission, the Handler was introducing Five to many people in the offices. As much as Five wanted to pay attention he felt that his wife was no longer in the same area as him. Each person he met came in through his ear and out the other. He only cared about one person, and if they didn't appear any time soon—he'd become violent. Then suddenly the feeling came back, a soft feeling that always warmed his heart when he felt her near. Now a little clearer, he pulled himself to a chair and began his work.

And before any more time could pass, Eight strolled in and some people stopped typing and including him, looking up to meet her dimpled smile that he loved so much. Five also frowned when he saw one specific man get up and smile at the woman.

The older shorter man walked over to the blonde girl, "Eight?" He questioned and smiler wider when she nodded her head.

"Herb! It's good to see you!" Eight exclaimed at the sight of the man, bringing him into a tight hug.

Five rose a brow at the sight, he was confused at the interaction. During his tenure at the Commission, he had never seen nor talked to Herb. He didn't know why he felt a knotting feeling in his stomach but he hated it. So, he stood from his chair, causing it to squeak. Resulting in capturing the old friend's attention.

Eight turned to see the sight of her husband, and a recognizable glare in his eyes at the sight. She could laugh at his jealous status, but they had other things to do, "Oh darling! Right the case..." she mumbled and turned back to Herb and gave him a dimpled smile, "I'll talk to you later Herb, nice seeing you again!" She said with a wave.

Five clenched his jaw and furrowed his eyebrows when he finally realized what he was feeling. Jealousy? Of what? An old man? Five blinked quickly, sat back down, and got to typing.

Eight got into her chair and hummed and quickly set off to the typewriter in front of her. Almost as if she's done this before. Maybe Herb had taught her. He glared at his paper at the intrusive thought.

Interrupting the silence a woman sitting behind Five began to speak, "Hey a few of us are having lunch, and I was wondering if you two...are doing something," Dot asked the two.

Eight like most of her time in the Commission only conversed with those she found interest in. The cases with all the gore, field agents traveling far into the past, and apocalypses. And Dot was none of those things or that interesting per se. So like old times, she ignored the woman, resuming her typing.

Finishing up her document, she removed it from the typewriter and put it in a gold container. And like the efficient worker that Five was, he too got up from his seat with his gold container. The two looked at each other with a nod and continued to walk to the tube room.

Eight walked over to the older woman's office and handed it to her. Thanks to Herb she was able to learn a lot more about what other departments did for a living. Seems Five was right in assuming the old short man had taught her. That meant knowing how each cog in a large machine worked.

"I'm afraid that's not the procedure," The Handler's voice called out from behind her. Eight turned around to see Five trying to put the container directly in. What an idiot...

The heeled woman walked over to Five grabbing the gold container from his hand, "Five meet Gloria, perhaps our most vital cog in the machine," she said motioning over to the older woman. But his eyes landed on no other than his wife who had a smug smile.

The blonde sighed walking along with the older woman, "Five, when turning in a container you must report them to Gloria, she here makes sure that you are doing your job correctly and that not the wrong person gets eliminated, or an event gets tarnished." She explained to her dear husband as she felt Gloria nod her head.

"Gloria, meet Five—" The Handler said as she opened Five's container.

"Oh yes, Miss. Eight's husband, am I correct?" She said smiling putting on her glasses.

Five rose a brow at just the tile husband, not that he minded. But how popular was his wife? Did he never pay attention when they worked here?

"That's the unfortunate mister," Eight added with a closed eye smile.

"Now why unfortunate Karl Weber?" The Handler asked as she handed both the paper and container to Gloria.

"Karl Weber is the butcher at the shop where Captain Ernst A. Lehmann acquires his weekly roast. So, if Carl dies, his butcher shop is passed down to his son Otto. Who never washes his hands, which is disgusting." Five began and smirked looking at his wife smugly who fidgeted in her spot. He just might get what he has wanted since getting this body.

"So he's the one who gives the captain his roast," The Handler said in disbelief.

The teen boy nods, "And that gives him food poisoning," Five said still with a smile on his face.

"Which makes him late for work," The Handler adds, "And delays the takeoff," she inquired a genuinely impressed look on her face. Well to Eight it looked like an old lady that definetly hasn't gotten laid. But if she got near her husband, the Commission itself would be burned from the inside out.

"And to make up for lost time, the Hindenburg flies through a weather front of high electrical charge and humidity," He explains, his eyes never leaving Eight's blue ones. Knowing how much she loves nerd talk.

"The static makes it mimic a tinderbox and a small engine spark..." Eight breathes out, biting her lip, as her eyes flicker to his lips.

"And just like that, we have..." Five finishes mimicking an explosion sound in his mouth and his hand doing the motion.

Eight clenches her jaw and walks out of the room flustered. This was the part she hated about the job. Also the reason she made sure not to get that many missions with the man.

Five Hargreeves was good at his job, annoyingly good. And his darling wife hated it, especially when she was in the presence of it. Sure she was smart, knew her way around many things using her intelligence, and thought ahead. But when her husband was all that, she got hot and bothered. Something about him knowing his way in and out of everything made her to that on her. In other cute words, she was turned on and possibly needed dick, but who are we to say?

As the three, yes three. Walked back to the desks the Handler followed behind and kissed his ass. At this point just tell him you like him. She thought as she walked back to her seat. But thankfully before any more threading thoughts could come into her head, the lunch bell rang loudly. Everyone all hopped from their desks and headed out. Leaving behind the married couple.

As soon as they were all out of sight, "Grab the file behind you and stuff it in your vest," She said pushing it to his chest and walking out.

Five furrows his brows and reached forward to grab her wrist, pulling her body towards his, "Are you okay?" He asked feeling her breath on his face.

The blonde scoffed, "You know fucking well, I'm not," she said and pulled her wrist, and walked off to the bathroom. Two reasons pissed her off, one being horny and the other hating the evil woman more than anything.

He smiled while shaking his head and followed her into the bathroom. As he caught up to her he shoved her into a stall, making her sit on the toilet while he stood in front of her, pulling out the file. Handing her the file, she opened it and looked annoyed. On the paper was a large smiley face printed.

At the sight, she muttered, "Shit," of course the old lady would know they would try to steal the file. Props.

"Oh, now I know that you two were married, but isn't it a little awkward in the bathroom?" The Handler's voice rang out in the bathroom, "You know because of the limited space? Anyway, how's the first day?" She asked going into the stall next to them.

Eight rolled her eyes at the comments, not helping her situation, "Couldn't be better," She said with an annoyed tone.

"Oh, good," The older woman replied and began coughing loudly, probably to drown out the sound of urinating. Or not, Eight couldn't care less, she hated her.

"I burnt my rouge," The woman continued the small talk. Why was she still talking?

Eight looked up at her husband, and mouthed, 'What the fuck?' The boy shrugged in agreement. The two were genuinely confused as to why she was still talking to them.

"Ever burn your rouge?" She asked but the two stayed silent, trying to shove the file back into Five's vest. "Rouge.." She pronounced weirdly.

"The ridges on the hard palate that help pass food to the esophagus. Anyway, I'm on a liquid diet for two days, hence the marathon of urination," She explained as Eight face-planted into her husband's stomach. She looked up, her chin now on his stomach, and mouthed, "Kill me."

Five looked down and smiled at her cute pout. Shaking his head, he reached his hand and cupped her face, his thumb stroking her cheek.

"One faulty cog, and nothing worlds as it should," She said pausing as they heard the toilet paper roll begin to spin, "You know, we value integrity at the office above all else. Trust is essential and that trust is built over time. But in the event of a breach, the Commission will act swiftly and without mercy. And efficiency I'm sure you two above all people should appreciate, Eight, Five." She finished and flushed the toilet, and walked out her heels clicking to the faucet.

"I'm feeling peckish, have you had your lunch yet?" She asked while washing her hands.

"Not yet," said Five this time looking up to the ceiling, then back down moving his thumb from Eight's cheek into her mouth. Causing the blonde to gag and cough.

The Handler hummed, "Wow, that desperate to get off huh Five? Well once you're all finished, mind joining me in my office? You both can eat solid foods, and I can live vicariously through you two," she said her voice close to the stall as she didn't want to see any of what was happening. What did she think they were doing?

"Sounds great," Five concluded, coughing away a laugh at the sight of his angered wife.

The Handler walked out of the bathroom, leaving the couple behind.

Eight sighed and got up, "What the fuck!" She hissed getting up and shoving him onto the stall door, "What was that for?"

He shrugged grabbing her face, "I had to make her believe something," he said and watched as she rolled her eyes.

"Yeah and that made it sound like I was sucking your dick" she groaned and smacked his face when he leaned forward to give her a kiss, "I'm not opposed to it," he mumbled.

Her hand wrapped around his throat as he was against the door, "You've been a bad boy, so you don't get anything from me," she whispered and reached her hand to the latch of the door. Pushing it open as he stumbled when she walked around him.

Five just reached to fix his tie and chuckle softly, god did he miss mission days.

Soon enough the three sat in the Handler's office and finished their lunch. Eight leaned back and sipped her drink through a straw. A large vanilla milkshake was right in front of her.

"And that's how Phil determined that the archduke just had to go," The Hander said, putting down her cup that she just finished slurping. Moving a tray of food aside.

"Care for dessert?" she said, offering candy to either of them.

"I had a bad Twinkie once in the apocalypse. It kind of put me off desserts," Five declined to put down the cup of water he had been drinking.

The Handler looked over at Eight who just raised her large milkshake, also not trusting to eat anything inside her office.

"Please, indulge me," she said, offering her bowl of candies to her again.

And so, Eight's stupid husband took one from her bow. The candies like ordinary, nothing off, just a large bowl that most would keep on their desks. Yet, why did Eight feel that something was off about them? She could only watch her husband take the candy and pop it into his mouth.

The Handler then picked up her cigarette and lit it and leaned back in her chair, "What's that taste like to you?"

"The 1950's?" Five questions confused, how was that even possible.

"Precisely right. Our clever metaphysics division concocted a way to perfectly distill an entire decade into a single candy. This one's modeled after the fudge mutt, America's favorite in 1955."

"Remarkable," Five commented impressed with the candy, still at odd with the taste.

"While it would've been the same division if you wanted to go back to your old age, but seems you're content with the newfound energy," She said with a smile that seemed too big for it to be real.

Eight sighed, "Death would have been better," she commented and sipped on her shake.

"She doesn't mean that," Five said, turning to glare at her but she shook her head keeping her statement.

"That reminds me, I have something for you two," she said and leaned over to press a button.

"Carla?"

"Yes?" replied the feminine voice through the intercom.

"Would you bring the boxes in, please?"

"Certainly."

Not a moment later, footsteps could be heard approaching, and Carla came with two large boxes. Carefully she placed one in front of Five and the other in front of Eight.

Eight stood from her swivel chair and stood up, one hand still holding her milkshake. She peered at the box suspiciously, in her line of job, it was obvious to question everything.

"Well go on open it," She ushered the two.

Eight opened her box and it was a silky material, it was a swing dress, she thought as she looked at its design. It was a gorgeous dress in pretty green color, but no way in hell would she wear something the devil in heels gave.

"Clothes make anyone," she said more to Five than Eight. "They'll go perfectly tight with this new body of yours," The woman finished her voice much lower. God, could she get any more desperate?

"Thank you, from both of us," Five said knowing his wife well enough that those words to The Handler would never come out.

Eight ignored him and her rather she went back to sipping her milkshake and turned around and smiled at the sight.

"Is that a Chinese flamethrower?" Eight asked the woman, then taking a sip of her shake and walking closer to it.

"Good eye," The Handler complimented watching as the young blonde walked over to it, "War, such a fascinating concept. A temporary salve for the human permanent flaw. Course, it's a bit easier to see from 30,000 feet. These are just some of the things I've collected in my travels. M26 grenade from the Vietnam war and this, the most worthy perhaps, my Walther pistol the very one Hitler used to kill himself. The very case you were working on correcting dear."

Eight looked over at the woman who was near her, as she held the small pistol in her hand. The blonde grabbed the straw from her drink, put it in her mouth, and sipped from it.

"Feel how perfectly balanced it is," The older woman offered the gun and placed it in her hand.

Still, in one hand, she held her milkshake, and in the other, she grabbed the gun and pointed it at stuff.

Five cleared his throat, grabbing the attention of The Handler, "I had some thoughts I wanted to run by you. Some suggestions to improve Commission protocol," He offered to her watching his wife mindlessly point the gun at random things, all whilst sipping on her milkshake.

"Mm! Shaking things up already," she said reaching to touch his face and boop his nose.

Five knew that the woman was lucky that Eight had been facing the other wall when she had done that, otherwise the plan would've gone south quickly.

"Go on," The Handler said as she walked back to her desk.

"Gloria," he started looking at the woman sitting at her desk, "The tube operator, wouldn't it be simpler if case managers were to send their own messages?"

Eight finally put back the gun in its spot and walked back to the desk, listening to the conversation between the two.

"I appreciate the thought. I really do, but everyone loves Gloria. I would never hear the end of it. She's been with the Commission family for years, and she's this close to making pension," The Handler told Five with a shrug.

Eight hummed and stirred her to drink with the straw, "Herb always told me how much people love Gloria," she added with a nod agreeing that it would be hard to get rid of her.

Five slowly turned to his and gave her a look that said you're not helping. Then back at the silver-headed woman.

There was a sudden knock that came from the door, Dot came in urgently, "Sorry to interrupt. May I have a moment alone?"

The Handler killed her cigarette fire and looked over, "Of course," then looked at the two, "Duty calls. We'll continue this discussion later, Five." she said and made her way out.

Before stepping out he looked down at the bowl, "May I?" He said pointing at the candy bowl.

"Please," She replied as he took one.

Eight put down her finished milkshake and followed after her husband, without muttering a single word to the woman.

"We have to do this now," Five whispered to Eight as they were pressed on a wall.

"Got it, dear husband," She said and grabbed his hand as he blinked them to the tube room and watched Gloria be handed a new container.

"You know what to do," Five whispered to his wife.

Eight nodded and walked through a portal, appearing behind the older woman. Lifting her hands they glowed as she touched her head, and fell to the floor with a loud thud.

"Get to it," Eight hissed, "We have limited time," telling him to hurry, knowing very well that a fight was going down. The Commission was never their friend.

Five got to work and began typing the documents and placing them in containers, making sure to look at his surroundings so that no one was around.

"You know that's not how we do things," A voice called out from behind them, the very voice that Eight hated. Also caused the most amount of problems for the couple. The two turned and faced The Handler.

"Where's Gloria?" she asked.

"Wouldn't know, we couldn't find her anywhere," Eight stated her hands clasped behind her back, with a dimpled smile.

The woman looked behind her, to see Gloria's body now peeking from behind the desk.

"You two are a great disappointment to me," she said, her voice almost sad, "You can't change what's to come. I truly find it so odd that you can't shed this fantasy. You're a first-rate pragmatic. You both belong here with us."

Five furrowed his eyebrows, "We don't belong anywhere, thanks to you," he spat and glared at her.

"You made us killers," Eight added, bringing her right foot back knowing they were going to blink soon.

"You were both always killers, I mean Eight you became the best at it..." The Handler said, looking at the blonde girl, then reaching to her leg and pulling out a gun and firing it at them.

But too late frankly, the two disappeared, and the alarm in the building rang. Annoying the traitors and they had to be caught.

The two disappeared behind a cart and listened to the familiar clicks of her heels, then pushed it forward trying to hit her. Five grabbed the blonde's hand and once again disappeared missing the bullet rounds that clinked behind them.

"Is this how you want the last line of your report to read?" The Handler threatened.

"When I'm done, I'm done, I guess." Five said as he reappeared with his wife next to him.

"You can't keep this up, Five. We both know that even if you have a limit," She said, her gin still pointed at them, "I saved both of you from a lifetime of loneliness, You owe me." She finished and pulled the trigger.

Five smiled and grabbed Eight, blinking them behind her.

"This is why you don't leave me alone near special things," Eight laughed, "And we owe a debt, but not you. Tell my little James I said hi," Eight then pulled a grenade from her coat and pulled the pin, and rolled it to her feet.

Five and Eight ran out of the room and pressed themselves to the wall, waiting for the explosion, and it came causing the glass to shatter, and many people to scream.

The blonde grabbed her husband's hand and opened a portal to the briefcase room. The teen quickly to grabbing one and made sure it was operational, setting it to the date they had to return to. When he turned to nod, she took out another grenade, throwing it with the other cased.

Hand in hand the two ran out of the room hurriedly. As the grenade went off, debris flew, but before most of it could reach them. Five wrapped an arm around Eight's waist and opened the case, escaping the flames that never reached them.

Just as they had arrived in 2019, blue surrounded the couple. Lightning cracked for a brief moment as they popped back out. The blonde groaned as her husband landed on her along the case.

"Jesus fuck," Eight coughed out while everyone in the room screamed and jumped in surprise at the sight of their siblings.

From the couch Seance blinked and rubbed his eyes, "Am I still high or do you guys seem them too?" He questioned confused.

Diego who was behind the counter pushed Five off the blonde and checked on her, "Hey are you okay?" He said as his eyes traveled around her body to see any injuries.

Eight rolled her eyes and smacked his hands away, "Get off me," she huffed and rolled off the counter fixing her coat.

The tall woman helped Five to stand, "Are you all right?" Allison asked the two.

"Who did this?" Luther asked looking at their disheveled states.

As Five stood up straight he just glanced at Allison's hand to see a coffee cup, "Irrelevant," he sighed and limped away slurping the entire cup of coffee, then turned to look at his siblings and lingering on his wife to see if she was alright, "So, the apocalypse is in three days. The only chance we have to save our world is well, us."

"The Umbrella Academy," Luther said with a sense of pride, not that he should be. They never did anything right when they were together.

"Yeah, but with us, obviously," Eight said now behind the counter with Diego drinking from a random bottle and recoiling, "So if y'all don't get your sideshow acts together and get over yourselves, we're screwed. Who cares if dad messes us up? Are we gonna let that define us?" She continued then took another swing of a liquor bottle.

"No!" Eight she added fighting Diego as he tried to grab the bottle from her tight grip.

"And to give us a fighting chance to see next week, We've come back with a lead," Five said, lifting his hand with a piece of paper.

Allison who stood closet handed her hand out, and took the paper Five had in hand. Luther, Klaus, and Diego huddled around her to take a look, "Harold Jenkins?" Allison questioned looking at the paper.

Taking one last swing of the dark liquor Eight put the bottle down and made her way to stand next to five.

"Who the hell is Harold Jenkins?" Diego asked looking over at the teens.

They all looked over at Five and Eight, who said nothing, other than Five slurping on the coffee.

#five hargreaves x reader #five x oc #aidan gallagher #the umbrella academy #five hargreeves

46 notes · View notes