#besides the fact that there are those who still can’t see after being terrified to such a degree but
Explore tagged Tumblr posts
Text
Idky I’m having Getou thoughts. Minor manga spoilers but I’m on mobile can’t do a read more
Was thinking abt how he wanted to genocide non-curse seers/users and remembered how one can start seeing curses if they got scared enough. Thinking of how much less death there’d be if he and his group just went around scaring the shit out of people ‘til they could see curses LMAO
#ruby rambles#jjk#besides the fact that there are those who still can’t see after being terrified to such a degree but#there was a less bad option to murder#and it’s be funnier#getous haunted house exhibit#free of charge
15 notes
·
View notes
Text
✨ my official good omens s3 prediction post ✨
which accidentally I guess comes with a side-order of analysis and a soupçon of meta because I can’t shut up
The quote "The plans for Armageddon are going wrong. Only Crowley and Aziraphale working together can hope to put it right. And they aren’t talking." is intentionally misleading.
I think with Aziraphale gone, Crowley is going to become Grand Duke of Hell. He’s hurt, he’s tired, he’s got nothing to lose anymore. He’s also a bit of a dramatic petty bitch (affectionate), and after suffering what he considers the ultimate betrayal from Aziraphale, he wants to hit him where it would hurt equally by joining the “bad guys” fully. Crowley thinks of himself as unforgivable, and since (in his mind) Aziraphale refuses to “see” him for who he really is, he’s going to force him to by acting out like this (beside the fact that we know that this isn’t actually who Crowley is, but he’s injured and lashing out, even if it hurts himself, too.)
So, that quote. The plans for armageddon are going wrong. as in heaven can’t get it to start. And the only way they CAN get it to start is to get the Grand Duke of Hell and the Supreme Archangel to work together, which they are refusing to do. Think about all those meetings between Gabriel and Beelzebub — those definitely didn’t start off as dates, they were business meetings. And so Aziraphale and Crowley REFUSE to speak to each other (with MAXIMUM pettiness and passive aggressive comedy) because they’re both mad at each other for their mutual miscommunication, but also because they KNOW that if they do work together they’ll end up fucking it up somehow (and actually set the second coming back on track, which they obviously don’t want). The one thing that is a common thread through Good Omens is that Aziraphale and Crowley are actually kind of useless at their jobs, and they usually end up accomplishing the opposite of whatever it is they are supposed to do. Aziraphale is still in the grip of heaven, and can be manipulated — while Crowley is probably still terrified of Satan, and now that he’s kind of recklessly agreed to such a big promotion, that’s now his immediate superior.
(So really, if you’re useless at your job, and consistently do everything wrong, and you’re trying to stop a massive project — the best place to be would probably be in charge of that project, no?)
So anyways, cue Muriel being used for the most immature go-betweens (“Muriel, dear, please tell the Grand Duke that I won’t be able to make our dinner reservation this evening because he is a lying snake.” “Muriel, tell the Supreme Arseangel that I never made the reservation anyways and his holiestness was presumptuous to assume so.” etc etc)
I’m also betting that the Metatron orchestrated his offer to Aziraphale very intentionally, because he knows that they’re each other’s most precious thing, and he knew that raising Crowley would be the best possible offer to get Aziraphale to agree, but also, he knew that Crowley himself would never agree to it. Which left Aziraphale in a tricky position. He’s still too afraid of heaven to back out, and by separating him from Crowley, the Metatron thinks he has succeeded in both eliminating the biggest threat to the second coming (the earth’s only professional apocalypse-thwarters with extremely powerful joint miracles) and planted (what he believes to be) a huge pushover of an angel in the seat of power — essentially a puppet for the Metatron’s commands.
(I’m not even going to get into the alleged threat of the book of life at this point, but that’s it own big bag of worms)
Problem is, the Metatron severely underestimated how much these two are idiots, how far they’re willing to go for love (or how far they’ll go when they believe their love has been scorned), and again, I cannot stress this enough — how much they’re both idiots.
Crowley accepting the position of Grand Duke seems out of character, until you realize it absolutely is not. (The same thing goes for Aziraphale accepting the position of Supreme Archangel, btw.) With everything else happening, it’s going to be effectively Crowley’s only option — Aziraphale is gone, the second coming is coming, and there’s a convenient little vacancy at the top of Hell’s hierarchy. He’ll take it because he’s upset and hurt by Aziraphale, but he’ll also take it because he’s angry, and it’s the only way he can possibly have any impact on what happens next.
I’d go so far as to say that Crowley loves Earth primarily because he loves Aziraphale, and Aziraphale loves Earth. Crowley is always the one to suggest running away when the going gets tough, because his top priority is always Aziraphale’s safety. If the Earth ends up a casualty, well, boohoo, at least he’s got his Angel with him. Now, though, he’s got no Aziraphale — so what’s the point in sticking to Earth? Remember how he pretty much immediately gave up on stopping the apocalypse when he thought Aziraphale was dead? Yeah. (In fact, he probably realizes very quickly that if he wants any hope of having Aziraphale back and sharing their lives together — this time for real — he has to take drastic measures to make sure Earth and humanity survives. He’s an optimist, and he’s also selfish.)
So, surprise, Metatron! You just took these two will-they-won’t-they eternal virgins and made them business partners. Which is an issue.
Because remember, for one supreme archangel to fall in love with the grand duke of hell during dubious business meetings makes a good story. For it to happen twice makes it look like there is some kind of… institutional problem.
We’ve taken the “workplace” in “workplace comedy” and dialled it up to 12. Now it’s not two salarymen from rival companies just kinda begrudgingly doing what they’re told until they don’t, it’s two high-ranking executives from rival companies who’ve decided they’re in love with each other, they’re done with this shit, and they’re taking the whole industry down from the inside.
Never forget that Good Omens is, at its core, a comedy. I believe we will get the romantic south down ending, for sure, but the path to get there is going to be a farce. They’re not talking — perhaps only in the business sense — so who knows the hijinks and shenanigans and making out they’re going to make everyone around them put up with this season. Aziraphale orchestrated an entire Jane Austen ball for Crowley before they’d even touched mouths. They’re going to be insufferable and I’m praying for Muriel’s sanity.
Finally, the final element of my prediction: Jesus will be there, probably. Maybe even Adam, too! Maybe it’ll even be lost celestial baby pt. 2: electric boogaloo. (as you can see my priorities are mostly regarding what happens with Aziraphale and Crowley lmao)
(and also, you know that dinky little half miracle they pulled together for jimbo? They were a couple of nobodies then. Imagine a full-powered joint miracle between a Supreme Archangel and a Grand Duke?)
(…Imagine a full-powered joint miracle between two supreme archangels and two grand dukes? 👀 ok ok who knows but also I’m not convinced we’ve seen the last of beez and gabe)
ok bye ❤️
#good omens#good omens s3 predictions#is this meta? idk#supreme archangel aziraphale#grand duke crowley#and their abandoned child#(abaddon-ed? nvm thats a different theory)#muriel#anyways it’d be pretty funny if the bookshop and the bentley manifest their clowny passive aggression somehow as well#sorry this got away from me a bit#anyways that’s just a theory… a GAME theory#this has been in my drafts for weeks please don’t yell at me lmao
75 notes
·
View notes
Text
Diluc R. | Scorching Fears
ıllı Synopsis: "You can always feel scared to take the next step, but don’t let that hinder you from moving forward." Pyrophobia was not the easiest thing to overcome, but with an aid by your side, there might be a chance to utilize the vision gifted to you. And may be something more?
ıllı Genre: Romance, Fluff
ıllı Notes: None, Female Reader
ıllı A/N: This is a bit out of character I think. But, it’s also a bit cute! Ahhh! Diluc is gorgeous, but please let me have Tighnari when I lose my 50-50!
Pyro is an element often characterized by its destructive nature. It burns its path to victory, leaving ashes on its trail. It is a symbol of power, courage, and ferocity. Bards claim it is a sign of leadership and patriotism, while others contest for love and passion. However, pyro is not all about strength and power. It also possesses a gentle warmth that heals wounds, dispels fear, and mends the broken. It softly dances across the skin, eliciting a smile from its intended receiver.
Wielding a pyro vision sounded like a fairytale come true, as it was deemed a gift from the gods. An acknowledgment for the better lack of term. It would have been the same case for you if it was not for the fact that you feared the flames. It stemmed from the incident years ago when you were trapped in the storage room after saving a friend from flammable chemicals that he wished to play with. The heat that scorched your skin and the suffocating blast of the wind terrified your whole being. Even now, your body would tremble at the sight of fire.
'Five years had passed, and yet I still can't use my vision. Will... will I ever be able to get over my phobia?' You begrudgingly thought, holding tightly to the glass orb in your hand. The pyro element flickered in line with your distress. As much as you wished to use it during your commissions as an adventurer, you knew you would only freeze in panic.
“Hmm? If it isn’t, (Y/N). What are you doing here, doll?” A familiar honeyed voice asked. You turned around to see Kaeya, who gave a small wave before sitting beside you. The exhaustion from his tasks as the Cavalry Captain was evident on his face and body.
“I was… just taking a break. The last commission I got from Marjorie took me all over to Old Mondstadt.” You replied. Kaeya could not fault you. The winds bellowing under the old tree in Windrise calmed both the body and mind, only a few of the blessings he would thank the Anemo Archon for.
You shifted in your seat to lean further into the tree. That was when Kaeya noticed the tight hold on your vision. He put two and two together and realized that something must have happened again. It was no secret that you could not wield your vision. People may revere those blessed by the gods, but it was also a source of contempt and jealousy for others to hold. When a few adventurers in the Guild discovered that you could not use your vision because of your fear of flames, they called you names for being useless.
'You're so useless!'
'This would have been faster if you could use your vision. Tch!'
'Why did the gods even bless you?'
They could see how their words brought you down, but Rosaria chastised them, leaving a threat anybody knew she would fulfill. Truly unbefitting for a nun, but she did not care. The maroon-haired woman glanced at you and voiced her opinion.
“So what if you can’t use your vision? Your experience and tenacity are enough to survive as an adventurer. The gods gifted them yada yada. Enough of that crap. Pave your own path with or without the vision.” Her words brought you back to your senses.
Silence, a not-so-comforting one, fell between you and Kaeya. The Cavalry Captain was lost in his thoughts, hoping to find a way he could help you utilize your power while also overcoming your fear. Then, a lightbulb lit up, and a grin made its way to his face.
"(Y/N), I know a way you can practice using your vision, but we require somebody to help you. I know just the right person." He uttered, glee and excitement evident in his tone. You squinted your eyes in confusion, but he merely sighed and pulled you up.
"Come on, you'll love it."
In an instant, you found yourself in the tavern. The boisterous laughter and chide of drunkards filled your ears. Rosaria merely smiled and pulled you next to her to sit. Kaeya sat down on the other side and called for the bartender who just happened to be Diluc.
'Huh...? Why here?' You groaned internally. No offense to Kaeya and Diluc, but this was the last place you expected to learn how to use your vision correctly.
Suddenly, a drink slid in front of you. The lustrous blue sparkled against the light, reminding you of the waters in Liyue. You gave Diluc a questioning look, to which he replied, ‘It’s on the house’. Kaeya had a grin plastered on his face while Rosaria raised her glass. You clinked yours with hers and thanked them.
Once you were distracted, Kaeya turned to Diluc. He did not miss the fond look present in the red-head’s eyes. Coughing, he gave him a sheepish look, one that Diluc returned with a deadpan face.
“So, mind telling me what’s with this?” He inquired. Kaeya proudly huffed that he pulled you here to get a drink and forget about the harsh words from the entitled adventurers in the Guild.
Diluc’s interest was piqued. He was also aware of your predicament, the inability to use your pyro vision because of pyrophobia. He once heard those cowards judge you when you did all the work for the commission. It irked him to no end just how prideful they were, but you just gave them an apology and smile. You were too good for them.
“I’m sure you did not just do that for a drink. What’s your plan, Kaeya?” Diluc pushed. The Calvary Captain smirked and informed him of his plan. The red-haired tycoon paled at each word that escaped his brother’s lips. There was no way it would work.
“Oh, come on! You’ve done this before with the knights. Plus, (Y/N) is not incompetent. I’m sure you’ve seen her train every now and then outside of the city walls. You also get to spend time with her~” He teased, the tycoon’s ears turning red at the insinuation.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”
Despite his reluctance, Diluc asked you to meet him by the winery the next day after your commission. You asked him what for, and he replied flatly, “Training”. You blinked in confusion before he explained Kaeya’s request to help you wield your vision. He was blessed with one, after all. It worried you that you would probably waste his time, but he countered it.
“You can always feel scared to take the next step, but don’t let that hinder you from moving forward. Haven’t you always wondered if you could get over your phobia? Or at least keep it at bay enough to utilize your vision?” His tantalizing crimson eyes pierced right through your worried ones. Biting your lip, you gave him a determined look.
“I’ll be in your care, Master Diluc.”
Diluc was a spartan. Relentless in every way possible. Your first day with him ended with scorches around his porch and a bit in his garden, which you profusely apologized for. He assured you it was natural, considering how you trembled at the sight of fire in your hands. True to his words, you faltered at the blazing element in your hand. Your throat was closing up, but Diluc tried calming you down with his instructions.
Mishaps caused you to feel a little down, but you did gain one valuable information about your power. The flames you created were a beautiful shade of blue, similar to that sparkling drink your master gave you. It made you smile.
The following days were filled with envisioning the flames in your hands. Diluc said that mental training was necessary for your body and mind to get used to the pyro energy. He made you endure the searing flames and their different shades. It amazed you that it could vary along with its temperature accordingly. Blisters would appear on your fingers, but the tycoon was always ready with ointments and bandages. You even got taken care of by Adelinde after accidentally setting a part of your hair on fire. Hence, you had to get a new haircut. You liked it, though.
“All right, now take your weapon and infuse the fire there. Imagine it as a coating, then keep the shape as long as possible.” He instructed. Taking a deep breath, you held your weapon before you and activated your vision. It was a slow process, but Diluc remained patient. You could keep it for two minutes, but it was not enough.
“Again, try for five minutes this time.”
It took a week to get hold of elemental infusion, but the battle was another thing. Diluc sparred with you, but it always ended up with your weapon being thrown out of your hands. It frustrated you that you could not concentrate enough to keep its shape while dodging and thinking of a way to hit the redhead.
“Focus! The flames are going out again.”
“Your footing is off, you’ll get hit from the sides if you keep that! Balance yourself.”
“Stand up. We’re not yet done. You—“ Diluc was stopped by your piercing eyes and vision flaring up. Silently, you dashed towards him, raised your sword and aimed it at him. He internally smirked before shielding his body with his claymore. His crimson eyes pierced yours, but you had enough of the frustration deep within you.
You trained your eyes on him while keeping the blue flames. There was a plan in your mind that you wished to try. Whether it would fail or not was up to your execution. You ran towards him and were about to parry with him again, but you jumped on his claymore and used it to maneuver yourself. You got behind and set your sword ablaze. Diluc was caught off-guard. Luckily, he deflected it in time, but not unscathed. He got minor burns from the flare.
“So you can do it after all.” He voiced, proud of your accomplishment. You were pulled out of your stupor by his praise, eyes suddenly glazing at the sight of your sword still alight.
“I did… Look, Master! I could do it! This is amazing! I—“ You suddenly fell, exhaustion finally catching up to your body. Diluc hurried to your side and asked if you were all right. Laughter emerged from your lips. You assured him that you were just tired. The smile present on your face and the gleam of your eyes froze him. You were ethereal.
“Thank you so much, Diluc. Although I still have some fear in my heart, you helped me overcome it bit by bit. This flame is so beautiful.” You muttered, willing the same blue flame to appear in your hand. The way it danced before you was mesmerizing. It gave you courage and confidence.
Diluc sat down beside you and materialized a flame of his own. He placed it near you, and they swirled around before dissipating in the wind. It was beautiful. Silence soon overcame you two, but this was a comforting one.
The redhead watched the sunset. After days of paperwork and training, this was the first time he saw how beautiful Mondstadt was. However, this time, he had someone precious beside him. He knew he had to act soon.
“You learned a lot from me, and I honestly don’t want our meetings to end once you fully grasp your vision. Will you… I mean not to bother you, but will you allow me to spend more time with you after?” He asked, cheeks and ears reddened at his request.
“What…?” You saw his embarrassed visage, and it made you shy all of a sudden. This was an unexpected outcome, but not one you were unwilling to take.
“I mean, visit here and—“
“I’d love to. But take me out for a proper dinner after this, okay, Diluc?” You teased. He blinked owlishly before erupting in chuckles. His smile was captivating, and you could not help your hands but touch his cheeks. He stopped and gave you a warm smile. It was right here that you realized you had fallen in love with the only flame in your life.
‘Why is he so beautiful!?’
Please do not copy or repost my stories, but notes and reblogs are always appreciated!
125 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Betrayal of the Worst Kind
Camerashipping and fluff, what could be better?
Miles ‘punishing’ Waylon and Lisa’s of no help.
-
Being on the run and trying to take down a major corrupt corporation with near infinite resources take a toll on a man. Waylon kept his mind away from his stint at Mount Massive by working. Lisa was the one keeping them up on personal maintenance (and driving a majority of the time), Miles handled the execution of dangerous ideas (given the fact he was already dead), and Waylon was the planner.
He was almost always on his laptop, a laptop protected by a motherload of security measures as he’d learned to use after getting caught that first time. He only stopped for long when it came to eating and sleeping, and when one of his partners got fed up and forced a break.
In another cheap motel found on some highway in the middle of nowhere, with Lisa out getting food from the gas station next door, Miles smacked his laptop shut just after he saved his newest project. Before he could even complain, he was laid out across the couch, hips straddled by his dangerous captor.
“Hey, hey, hey!” Waylon tried to protest, squirming as his death-cold grip tugged up his shirt. “Bad time! What if Lisa walks in?”
“I mean, the last time she walked in on us, she seemed quite happy with what she was seeing. Did you really tuck a t-shirt into a pair of sweatpants? You’re such a geek it’s painful.”
Waylon bucked up his hips, kicked his legs, tried to swat away his hands—all to no avail. He proved absolutely terrible in a struggle when his life wasn’t on the line. “Are you judging how I wear pajamas? Are you kidd—“ Miles fingers came in contact with his stomach, nails dragging down against his skin. Immediately, the pinned man turtled into himself.
“I was curious, you know, at our last stop. I brushed up against your side, and you jumped juuust enough for me to notice, and you said that I scared you!”
“Miles—“
“Ah-ah! You said that, but I’ve seen how you startle. That wasn’t it. I’m still a journalist, Way. A bored journalist! When I think I’ve been lied to, that’s when my gears get working.” He wore the most evil grin, contrasting with Waylon’s suddenly wide, terrified eyes. He scribbled slowly, teasingly across exposed flesh. “Did you lie? Did I really startle you?”
“Miles,” he began again, voice wavering. Waylon twisted to press his face into the dusty couch cushion beside him. “Really? A-are you held up on a lit…” He paused to swear. It was the only way to keep a giggle from getting out right then. “…little thing like that? I don’t even remember it!” Journalist or not, who would realistically be able to tell a startled flinch from having sensitive sides?
“Well, honestly, I only remembered it because I basically have nothing to do right now. Doesn’t change that you lied. You lied, and you’ve been neglecting me. I think that’s worthy of a little punishment, don’t you?” Then he found those sensitive sides to attack in earnest.
“Wait! Wait, wait—!” God, then the *buzzing* started. There was no point trying to resist after that. His brief exposure to the engine was still enough to make poor Waylon more receptive to sensing the Walrider’s presence, and he’d be damned if the sudden hum of nanites against his body wasn’t an abuse of power! He broke out into sweet, bubbly laughter, unsure if he should try to protect himself or keep trying to push him away.
Then came a glimmer of hope.
Lisa came through the door right then, plastic bags full of food and much-needed toiletries hanging from her arms. She quickly realized she arrived to a scene of chaos. Her expression turned into curiosity and bemusement.
“Lisa!” Waylon gasped. He threw his arm out towards her in a pleading gesture. “Lisa, help me! Please!”
To his horror, as she realized what was going on, her look twisted into a traitorous smile. “You gotta go lower,” she advised. “Get his hips. He can’t take it. It’s adorable.”
Was this the woman he married? One so willing to throw him under the bus like that? His shock was interrupted by Miles gleefully following her instructions. Laughter turned to mirthful, unmanly squeaks and squeals echoing across the walls of the room.
“Let me put away what I got for us, then I’ll come help.” She better mean help him! “It’s been way too long since I’ve gotten to see him like this.” Apparently not.
He was doomed.
12 notes
·
View notes
Text
“I Spit on Your Grave” by Ghoultown is SUCH a good song for 3L song. Like specifically when you address the fact that.. he was fucking terrifying to anyone who wasn’t on that mountain.
Like okay, first verse has to be the end and cactus ring, the lines “I lie in a dark place/Searching myself/For the strength I had before it all came down” just really fucking work with his decision to not be the last one standing and purposely missing blows. And the looking for strength at the end as he finally dies, because earlier in the pond he was fine and set on it and in the ring he knew what he was doing and he had decided he would die but now as he is dying it’s fucking scary. But it’s too late now, y’know? Maybe the lines just before it are the fight itself, or the pond, or him dying with this being him dead. Maybe all three, but they all served the same purpose.
And the rest of the song, that’s everything that preceded it after he got to the desert. Mainly focusing on the war though, the ‘sinners’ being chosen being the Dogwarts side. Vengeance being wrought for Pizza. “I’m lost in this limbo/Left here to die/In this tarnished veil of scarlet solitude” is just obviously him being red, the first one at that, the ‘limbo’ and being ‘left to die’ being 1: trying to kill people but Dogwarts has numbers against them but since none of them are red they can’t attack either, 2: going red while not voiding the deal with Grian has certainly made it more… odd and with going on the attack it’s more likely he’ll be left alone, 3: being stuck in a desert is usually a death sentence but he’s still living there so he’s turned a death sentence into a sense of limbo especially after the sand castle blows up. The ‘tarnished veil’ part of that line is because by all means he isn’t really acting like a red life, he’s going around being joking making deals and trying to gain some allies even if he does occasionally try to kill someone, plus he isn’t actually alone like he’s supposed to be. It’s a veil of scarlet solitude as he plays up the act so to the outside observer he seems like a proper terrifying red life at first glance, even if that isn’t quite the case.
I think the “this judgement day” line while it works for the whole line really is best for the battle of the red desert, and of course the aftermath where in he kills Ren and Martyn.
The final line of “In cruel deserved twist of fate” also lines up well here since he was the first to die, the first to go red, and still somehow got to second won due to the double victory and probably would have been the last one standing if he hadn’t chosen let Grian win. By all means if you looked at the start of the war you would expect Dogwarts to win, but they don’t. And while I know it isn’t quite a twist of fate, I think it works well enough at being a surprise to count. And if it isn’t then consider the no kill pass, killing Grian and then Bdubs and then offering his death. In fact, the preceding lines “It’s night and the graves moan/Begging oh lord please forgive me/For what I must do tonight/So one man by one man/I deal retribution” I think works with that, because the first line sets up everyone besides those three being dead and Scar arguably feeling bad about the fact that Grian’s still on yellow so he has to die and that Scar’s decides he’s not going to be seeing the very end of this. And so the end of the song leaves off exactly where it started.
#brain soup#goodtimeswithscar#I fucking love cowboy music it’s so fun. I highly recommend Ghoultown by the way. fun band. fun music.#but like… am I making sense here? I just think it works.#also this is completely sparked by the fact I like the idea that 3L Scar is a cowboy so whenever I’m listening to Ghoultown I end up#thinking about either him or a D&D character and this time it lined up so fucking well
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
All That Remained - Returned - Velze
Beginning || Previous || Next
“Let’s recap. Everyone here was once a holder. One of the heroes that Ladybug had entrusted. However, we face a different sort of problem. A lone kwami is handing out the miraculous. What’s more is that its handing them out based on something, but we’re not guaranteed to get the kwami Ladybug gave us back,” Alya stated.
Everyone exchanged worried glances.
“Should we really trust this thing?” Kagami challenged.
“It hasn’t given us a reason not to,” Luka stated.
“Maybe, but what do we do? Are we even guaranteed a miraculous at all?” Sabrina questioned.
“That’s up to us now. It said that if we wish to live by its children, we need only call its name. Then it would judge us,” Alya explained as she held up her hand with the chain ring bracelet.
“What’s even the point of doing all this if the kwamis aren’t to be guarded? They’re powerful creatures that are dangerous. Even they know this,” Marinette pointed out.
“I have to agree with it. The kwamis aren’t the issue. We are. The fact that its even trusting us again with its children after everything that happened has to mean something,” Alix pointed out.
“That is a fair point. From my observations, the kwamis are more akin to tools. They are used to the whims of people. They have no choice by the data present. Are we really to put blame at their feet for this?” Max added.
“We shouldn’t. And we shouldn’t forget it said that what we know about them will become obsolete. I can’t be sure what that entirely means, but there must be more to the kwamis than even we’ve been told,” Alya remarked.
“But everything about them is documented, right?” Marinette challenged.
“I mean, yes? There is a grimoire that details the kwamis and their powers, but what if even that is wrong?” Alya questioned.
“That still raises the question of what we do. Do we go along with this kwami and indulge it? Or is it better that we allow the kwamis to go free?” Sabrina asked.
“From the way it worded things, the kwamis will be free regardless. They won’t be bound to whatever rules and guidelines they were before. They’d decide things for themselves. No one to govern them, but themselves. And, at a guess, they’re trusting their creator with this decision,” Luka pointed out.
“Besides, life is lonely without companionship. When it said that if we wanted to live our lives with them, it sounded like it was offering their companionship. If that’s all they end up being, there’s nothing wrong with that, right?” Rose questioned.
“Should we go through this then? Invoke it and be judged?” Mylene asked.
“Yeah. It was suggested that we may not get our original kwamis back, so what’s the point?” Marinette challenged.
Alya sighed and looked at the chain ring bracelet. It was clear that they wouldn’t all get the same kwamis. With this jewel, she wasn’t going to see Trixx again. She felt sad at the idea, but she couldn’t deny the excitement of meeting whatever kwami was linked to this jewel.
“Even if we don’t, there’s someone new for us to meet. The possibility of what that kwami is, is terrifying, but curious. Who are they? What are they? What kind of friend will they be? I know I look forward to meeting a kwami I haven’t met before. I’ll miss Trixx, but I’ll treasure those memories with him and what he once was,” Alya declared.
Luka, Rose, Juleka, and Alix got to their feet and stood beside Alya.
“We’re with you,” Rose declared.
Alya smiled and nodded. “Now it falls to all of you. What will you do? The choice is now yours.”
Everyone exchanged glances. Uncertainty in their faces save for Kagami. She stood tall with conviction clear in her face.
“What is its name?” Kagami asked.
“Velze,” Alya answered.
“Velze?” Kagami asked.
Footsteps tapped against the wooden deck. Everyone turned to the source as Felix walked up to the enclosure. Velze laid in his arms while he petted its mane. Marinette glared at him when her eye caught Chat Noir’s ring on Felix.
Marinette jumped to her feet. “What are doing with Chat Noir’s ring?”
Felix paused and looked at the ring, then Velze. “Is this really his ring?”
“Indeed,” Velze answered.
Everyone changed glances while Kagami stepped forward.
“Velze, judge me as you will,” Kagami declared.
Velze smiled. A bright flash at Kagami’s face faded to reveal a platinum nose ring with a prismatic sheen.
“That’s… that’s Stompp’s jewel. That should be mine!” Ivan protested.
“Not anymore, clearly,” Velze remarked.
Kagami blinked, then bowed. “Thank you. I will treasure him.”
Velze bowed its head as Kagami joined Alya. The others exchanged glances when Sabrina moved forward. She looked up sheepishly at Velze and waved. It looked her over before a light shone behind her. It faded to reveal a rainbow bee comb.
Sabrina took it off and looked at it. “Are… are you sure? This… this belonged to-!”
“I know, but fear not. She has a new friend waiting for her,” Velze reassured.
Sabrina bowed her head and moved away.
One by one, the others stepped forward and allowed Velze to judge their hearts. Nino received a pair of rainbow goat horn clips. Kim got a platinum circlet with a rainbow sheen. Max earned a platinum bracelet with a prismatic owl charm. Mylene obtained a platinum choker with a prismatic bead. Ivan begrudgingly accepted a pair of prismatic chained rings. Zoe and Ondine each received an armlet. Zoe’s was prismatic with platinum beads while Ondine’s was platinum with prismatic beads. Nathaniel took up the rear and secured a platinum ring that shifted between every color of the rainbow.
Everyone stood together that had received a miraculous, leaving Marinette and Marc left. Marc glanced at Marinette, then at the crowd, but primarily Nathaniel. Nathaniel gave him a smile and a nod. He took a breath and stepped up to Velze.
Velze looked Marc over once. A bright flash faded to reveal a pair of prismatic stud earrings in Marc’s ears.
“W-wait, are these… Ladybug’s earrings?” Marc asked.
Marinette rushed forward. “What gives? Those are my earrings. I’m Ladybug! I’m the savior of Paris. I’ve defended it countless times with Chat Noir. You can’t just give our jobs to just anyone.”
“Oh, can I not? But weren’t you the one who had sought their help and thought them worthy of being heroes?” Velze challenged.
Marinette stiffened. “But I… that doesn’t change the fact that I’m Ladybug.”
“Correction. You were Ladybug, but no more. I have another of my children in mind for you. One befitting an ignorant person such as yourself.”
Bright light flashed at Marinette’s anklet to reveal an anklet of prismatic pearls.
“What-? Wait, that’s Daizzi’s jewel. She’s Jubilation. How does that fit someone of ‘ignorance’?” Marinette demanded.
Velze smirked and flew from Felix’s arms. “Mortals, hear me now. By the time the sun sets, everything you know will be changed forever more. Ancient sins will be set right. My children no longer subject to the mercy of mere finite creatures. They will traverse the universe as what I brought them in as, not based on you and your whims. No longer forced to do only good, but to act as they know, how they should be. They will be free.”
“But-!” Marinette started.
Velze floated back into Felix’s arms. “Let’s go. We have one final stop to make before the promised hour.”
Felix turned and left. Marinette ran out after him. She grabbed his shirt as Velze teleported them away.
#miraculous#miraculous ladybug#miraculoustalesofladybugandcatnoir#au#miraculous au#alternate universe#canon divergent au#canon divergence#kwami oc#miraculous velze#velze#miraculous fanfic#mlb fanfic#fanfiction writer#fanfiction#fanfic#all that remained
8 notes
·
View notes
Text
Big Bend - Chapter 24
Word count: 1139
Content warnings: mention of giants hurting people, language (maybe? I can’t remember if there’s any cursing)
“Ready?” Angie asked as I pulled open the door to the car.
“And set!” I replied, putting my backpack on the floor. Outside, the first rays of sun were just beginning to peak over the horizon.
“Perfect. According to the map,” she paused to look at her phone, “we should be there by about one.”
“Sounds great to me. It’s going to be weird being away from here for a whole three days.” I buckled my seat belt.
“It is, isn’t it? I think Corpus Christi will be cool, though.”
“Oh, yeah. I’m really excited about that bar you were telling me about,” I agreed. By the time the sun had fully risen, we were well on our way to the city. It had so far been rare to get matching days off, so when we’d seen the schedule, Angie had been quick to suggest we do something fun.
That ended up starting with a diner in the city that had some delicious eggs and even more delicious pancakes. It was technically far beyond breakfast time - the drive to reach the coastal city had taken close to nine hours, so even with leaving before dawn we still hadn’t arrived until mid afternoon. I didn’t think breakfast had a time limit, though.
It was refreshing to be away from the park, I thought as I took another bite of the pancakes. For a whole list of reasons.
There were the generally long working hours. The endless questions about where the bathroom was. The giant alien who partly terrified and partly fascinated me. “Little” things like that.
I’d told myself I wasn’t going to think about any of that when we were in Corpus Christi for the weekend, and yet I’d already failed at it.
“So, we check-in after we eat, and then…well, I’m down for whatever,” Angie said.
“You don’t want to rest a bit first?” She’d done most of the driving, despite me offering more than once. She shook her head.
“I’ve had way too much coffee for that,” she replied with a shrug. “Besides, we came all the way here, might as well enjoy it. We should go see the beach!”
“Works for me,” I replied. We finished eating, paying and then heading to the hotel. Between the long drive and the three day weekend, we’d decided staying somewhere for two nights, so we’d get a full day to explore the area, was the move. The hotel we’d picked wasn’t anything fancy - just your run of the mill chain hotel, but it at least offered free breakfast. Something I found myself already looking forward to despite the fact that I’d just finished breakfast.
I was also relieved to find that our hotel room was clean enough. More than that, actually. Angie and I dragged our suitcases into the room. She suggested we get changed and freshen up before venturing out. I had no objections to that plan. I’d attempted to smooth my hair out before going into the diner, but it was still far messier than I would have liked after several hours of half consciously leaning against the car window and my neck pillow.
After getting changed and actually styling my hair, I sat down on the bed, waiting for Angie to emerge from the bathroom. I didn’t have to wait long, as it turned out, and moments later, we were back in the car, this time heading towards the coast itself. I watched as several looming skyscrapers whooshed by the car.
“Weird to think Easton’s probably as tall as some of those,” Angie said, nodding to the buildings in the rearview mirror as she pulled into a parking spot.
“Not all of them,” I replied. She was right, though. The largest building I’d seen Easton next to was the visitor center, which was only two stories. Three if you counted the balcony on the roof. It was strange trying to imagine him in a city. Especially a pretty much exclusively human sized city. While a few larger cities did have a couple buildings now that would have fit the smaller variety of giants, those were few and far between. Corpus Christi wasn’t one of them. Not that it would have mattered much, considering that Easton was also decidedly not one of the smaller species of giants.
“Probably most of them,” I amended after a moment. “I think some of them are taller than him, though.”
“I’ll look it up,” Angie said, pulling out her phone. “He’s what? 200-something feet tall?”
I nodded. 218.
“Yeah, you’re right. The tallest is 411.” She replied. “And only…” she paused, counting whatever she was reading. “Nine or ten of them are taller than he is.”
“That’s pretty weird, isn’t it?” I tried to keep my tone light as we got out of the car, but an edge of anxiety crept into it nonetheless. “That we know someone taller than most of those buildings.”
“Yeah, I guess it is,” Angie said. “Think he’s definitely the tallest friend I have.”
“You know a lot of building sized aliens?” I asked jokingly.
“So many,” Angie replied, rolling her eyes slightly as she laughed. I looked back at the buildings in the distance, towering over us, and felt an unsettled feeling creep into my stomach, thinking about the damage someone Easton’s size could easily do to an entire city, unarmed.
Good thing he’s in the middle of nowhere. As soon as that thought crossed my mind, another followed - that that may have not been a coincidence. The unsettled feeling only increased.
It’s probably just for logistical reasons. I mean, it’s not like he could work at Carlsbad Caverns or something. More space is a definite plus for a giant. They wouldn’t have hired him if they actually thought he would try to do…anything.
Despite my attempts to reassure myself, some of my unease had apparently seeped into my expression. Angie glanced over at me as we walked along the beach.
“You okay?” Angie asked.
I nodded quickly.
She gave me an unconvinced look, one eyebrow raised.
“You sure?” She pressed. When I didn’t reply after a moment, she continued. “You mentioned having met someone from Aphiria before one time…is whatever’s up with how you feel about Easton related to that?”
“I don’t feel any particular way about Easton,” I replied. A bit too defensively to be convincing. I drew in a long breath, exhaling slowly.
“I’ve never told anyone this before,” I started softly.
“You don’t have to-I was just curious-“ Angie started. I shook my head.
“I think I should,” I said. “I-Easton’s the first Aphirial I’ve met officially. But when I was a kid, I saw something. Something I shouldn’t have seen. I…saw an Aphirial…” my voice broke as I tried to force the next words out of my mouth. “…kill someone.”
4 notes
·
View notes
Text
A Dream Come True - Ch 8
Ch 8 - Catching Up and Making Plans
Trevor's got the IDs and the Woodstone Crew gathers on video chat to discuss the events of the day and make plans.Elsewhere, Trevor's still reeling from his confrontation with Ari.
AO3
***
They left Lehman Brothers much later than intended since Trevor needed to sort out a lot of things with Ari. He'd been truthful when he said that he just wanted to move on with his life. While it was easier with David than it was with Ari, the fact was - they can't change what happened, he and Ari had spent the better part of twenty-two years wishing that things could've been different, and at least, they finally got closure.
Trevor felt a lot better knowing that he had been loved, even if he wasn't enough, those loving, romantic moments between Ari and Trevor had been real. They weren’t just manipulations to get Trevor to keep sleeping with him. The memories weren't tainted by Trevor believing that he wasn't loved by the man he was in love with, anymore. Of course, Ari would go on to do something terrible, but Ari hadn't been using him like Trevor had begun to believe after all this time and knowing that helped him through it all.
Still, despite feeling somewhat better and having that final goodbye – because he sure as hell doesn’t want to see Ari again even if he did forgive him – he couldn’t help being lost in his thoughts as they made their way home as if on remote. There was just a lot to process after all this time. While he’s relieved that his darkest thoughts weren’t true, he spent far too long believing them to be true and one afternoon was not enough to get over it. He’d probably be dealing with it for a long time.
Sass kept talking at him about – well, Trevor couldn’t tell you what – the whole way back home. It felt different, this last trip home. Despite knowing that he should be overwhelmed, he feels the sense of peace.
Like he could finally move on.
Maybe he could find someone to fall in love with, someday. Maybe he could have what he told Sam and Bela he wanted. What he always wanted – even if it wasn’t with the great love of his life. Or maybe he could find a real love of his life – his second life.
And it felt great, if slightly terrifying.
“Trevor, you okay?” Sass asks, as they turn the corner onto his parents’ street.
“Yeah, um, I’m okay – better than expected.” He pauses. “Listen, can you not mention the personal conversation with Ari and David to anyone? I wasn’t intending for you to hear that.”
“I wasn’t going to,” Sass states. “I kind of figured that was a conversation I should never have heard or been a part of. I just…”
“You just, what?”
“If you wanted to talk about it – we could. I mean, when I thought you were just friends, I figured it hurt to find out what he did, but after all that? I mean, no wonder you were doing crazier things than normal. I know that it was probably good news – he wasn’t just using you – but well, it’s gotta suck still. And even if you forgave him, and it seems like you did if David ascending is indication…”
Trevor stops as right before his parents’ house. “Sass, I appreciate the offer – really, I do. I just, uh, I need to process everything that happened today before I can really talk about it and – and although I do appreciate what you’re trying to do here, there’s really only one person I’d want to talk to about this.”
“Your brother?”
“Yeah.”
“That’s fair.”
“But not right now, so when we tell the story, let’s just leave the romantic relationship issues out of it, okay?”
“Okay.”
They finished their walk up to the house where Trevor doesn’t hesitate to just walk in, despite Sass giving him a look.
“Hey, look who’s finally back,” Flower greets them from the couch in the living room. Jeremy is beside her and it looks like they’re on video chat with the other ghosts, Sam and Jay. It’s interesting that they’re all in different places and still chatting. Pete from his family’s place, Steph from hers, the rest at the mansion, and them at Trevor’s parents’ place.
“I texted you guys updates along the way,” Trevor says, putting up his suit jacket and rolling up his sleeves. Of course most of those texts had been only a couple of words. Just enough that they – Jeremy or his parents – wouldn’t worry.
“Why is Sass wearing a suit?” Alberta questions.
“Because this one decided that I needed to ‘fit in’ and put me in a monkey suit,” Sass complains as he tosses the jacket on the bench with his tie that he’d taken off on the train.
Trevor gives him a look because he should be taking better care of the suit, and says, “Personally, I think suits suit you, and yes, fitting in is very important.”
“Uh-huh, how’d things go?” Jeremy questions as Trevor puts Sass’ jacket up, too, before sitting beside him.
“We got what we needed and…”
“… we helped David get sucked off,” Sass finishes and then, grimaces at the laughter in the room. The older ghosts don’t laugh because they haven’t been brought in on the joke, but Sass knows now. To avoid the embarrassment, Sass goes to change.
Jeremy nearly chokes. “David was there – as a ghost – and you helped him move on?”
Trevor nods. “Yeah, apparently, what happened with me when I died was the reason that he was a ghost.”
Jeremy raises his eyebrows at him as if wondering if there was more to the story. Knowing that he would be detailing the story later, Trevor gives him a look that says ‘not now’ and Flower interrupts to say, “Okay, you two can’t agree on anything, but you can read each other’s minds?”
“We can agree on things,” Trevor states.
“Just not always.”
“Or more like rarely.”
“Once in a blue moon.”
“If that blue moon comes like once every millennium,” Trevor offers.
“Nah, it comes more than that.”
“I don’t know – I mean, when was the last time –”
“You didn’t answer my question,” Flower states.
“It’s a twin thing, Flower,” Jeremy states. “As I tried to explain on the ride to your brother’s house, there’s certain things about being an identical twin that leads to things like being able to read each other but doesn’t necessarily mean that we are going to agree on everything or anything really. T and I have always been like exact opposites – so we argue a lot.”
“Speaking of brothers, how was your trip, Flower?” Trevor asks, deferring the conversation as Sass returns dressed in something more comfortable.
“It was great – I was just telling everyone that I think I’m going to help my brother – well, his grandkids – with the family business. He’s got a farm.”
“That’s fantastic.”
“Did everything go alright? You said we were all set in your … texts, but…”
Trevor smiles. “We’re all set.”
“That’s fantastic!”
“Yep.”
Of course, there were questions about everything and a lot of catching up to do despite them only being separated for about a day.
Apparently, Flower wasn’t the only one making plans. Alberta had already begun making plans to sing with her sister’s grandchild, Alicia, once she could reach out to agents. Steph would be finishing high school, and eventually going to college. Isaac wants to be a guest history teacher. Pete wants to be involved in travel, but he’s not sure what. He is, however, planning to move to Philadelphia with Laura, wanting to be as involved as he can be in his daughter’s and grandson’s lives. Thor wants to sail and fish. He’d probably need some help with getting that off the ground and would stick around Woodstone for a while that and hopefully help Bjorn ascend so he wouldn’t feel guilty about being gifted with life when Bjorn wasn’t. Hetty, naturally, did not want to leave and instead, would assist Sam with the B&B.
“That leaves you two,” Flower says, glancing over at him and Sass.
“I’m probably going to hang around here for a while and then, I don’t know – travel a bit?” Trevor suggests. “I need to find myself and nothing says, ‘find yourself’ like a road trip.”
“Sass?”
“Uh, you know, I – I don’t really have a plan right now,” Sass says. “I figure maybe I could hang around the mansion or maybe join you on your road trip?”
Trevor laughs. “You’ve been complaining for twenty-two years about having to deal with me – now, you want to go on a road trip with me?”
Sass shrugs. “Maybe I’ve learned a lot about you today and maybe…”
Trevor shakes his head. “I didn’t say no – I’m just surprised. I’ll think about it.”
Sass nods. “Figure I’ll hang out at Woodstone for now. At least it’ll give me a chance to go see Shiki.”
Trevor nods. That makes sense.
“We’d be delighted to have you,” Jay says, gleefully. “When do you plan to return?”
“Well, we have the IDs now…” Trevor glances at Flower and Sass. Technically with the ID, Flower didn’t have to return to the mansion, and they could just send the stuff with Sass.
Flower is giving him a look like she might not want to return, especially since her plans don’t really include Thor, and Sass hadn’t exactly sounded like he wanted to return anytime soon (after being stuck there for 500 years, that makes sense).
“You guys don’t want to come back?” Alberta questions.
“Oh! You have to come back. You left so fast,” Isaac states.
“Plus, don’t you want to come to my daughter’s wedding?” Pete asks. “We can have a party that weekend – one last hurrah.”
“That’s a great idea, Pete,” Jay says. “We should do that. Besides, you said that you’d come back.”
“And we’re planning on it.”
“Well, actually…” Flower offers, earning looks.
“Please guys, you gotta have a proper send off.”
“Of course we’ll come back,” Trevor states. He did mean it when he said that he wanted to return, besides after the confrontation with Ari, he should probably talk to Hetty before he lets that be the next thing that keeps him on as ghost the next time he dies. “We just need a couple of days; I promised this one I’d go to the doctor once I got an ID.”
He jerks his head to Jeremy, who rolls his eyes. “Technically, we don’t know what killed you –”
“Obviously, I overdosed.”
“Despite it being obvious – you’re going to the doctor if I have to drag you there myself.”
“I never said you’d have to drag me – I just said that you were the reason that I have to go to the doctor tomorrow.”
“You made yourself an appointment?”
“No, but I’m sure you did when I texted you that I had the IDs.”
Jeremy opens his mouth to probably lie and claim otherwise, when Flower says, “Yes, he did.”
“Thank you, Flower,” Jeremy says, giving her a look.
“You know you can’t lie to me,” Trevor states. “Besides, how would you explain an early morning appointment to me – the morning – we call for one.”
“How did you –”
Trevor smiles, “I got a text.”
“Of course you did.”
“Anyway, we’ll be back at the mansion in a couple of days,” Trevor states. “Plenty of time to make the wedding and have one last hurrah.”
Everyone agrees and thus, they spend the rest of the conversation talking about their one last hurrah.
***
Later, much later, because Trevor kept pushing off being alone with Jeremy and having to talk about his issues with Ari and what happened that day. Yet, he knew that they wouldn’t go to bed with discussing it.
So, after they said goodnight to everyone else and changed, Trevor told him the full story of what happened at Lehman Brothers with Ari and David. It surprised him that Jeremy didn’t ask any questions, and he finds himself looking at Jeremy curiously when he finishes.
“You don’t seem surprised.”
Jeremy hums. “Well, honestly, I always thought he was a bastard – still do – but I didn’t think he was that much of a bastard that he didn’t have some level of feelings for you, I just assumed they weren’t enough. And since he never actually told me, it was just my assumption that he’s not a sociopath. Although I’m not terribly convinced.”
“Yeah, if it had been how I thought it was then he definitely would be.”
“But thankfully, it wasn’t.”
“Thankfully?”
Jeremy shakes his head. “T, you might be a mess right now, but if he had been just using you like we both thought and assumed with no feelings whatsoever, you’d be a wreck. And I didn’t want that for you, so I am thankful that he did have feelings for you. That it was real.”
Trevor nods. “Me too. I can’t tell you how broken-hearted I was ever since the watch thing. I was a wreck – I tried to play it off, find other things to distract me at the B&B and trying to distract myself with Sam, get involved with Bela and then, messing around with Hetty… but I was an absolute wreck because before that – it was just an accident, and I never got to tell Ari how I felt because I was a chicken, and I could imagine that it meant something – I went back and forth on that. When I was upset or feeling down, I let those horrible thoughts that he was just using me invade my mind, but when I was feeling good, I’d remember those trips to the cabin, the domestic bliss of life at my condo, and the fun games that we’d play at the office…”
“You two were an HR nightmare, weren’t you?” Jeremy interrupts because he likely doesn’t want to hear those details.
Trevor laughs, “Yes, we were. Especially since we never locked the door…”
Jeremy laughs. “Yeah, you two probably have some sort of ‘risking getting caught’ kink, don’t you?”
“Definitely.” Trevor sighs. “But that was before I knew about the lake – I couldn’t blame them for my overdose, but when I found out about the lake – the only thoughts I had whenever I thought about Ari were those deep, dark thoughts and I had no one to talk to about it.”
“But Flower knew…”
“I didn’t know she knew and the thought of telling any of my ghost family was utterly terrifying. I didn’t feel like I could trust them, not really. Not about Ari.” Trevor shakes his head. “Anyway, I just – that’s it. David’s gone, and I actually said goodbye to Ari and meant it. It feels – I don’t know how it feels, I’m so lost.”
“You need more time to process and I’m here for you while you figure it out.”
“Thanks, J.”
2 notes
·
View notes
Text
Nobody needs to know. Nobody knew for over a decade
Not even me, the brick walls of denial and misbeliefs hiding the truth.
What happened was wrong. What happened was wrong, and
According to my parents I should have known better
At age six, I should have known better, should have used words I hadn’t learned yet
Instead of the fists I had learned to use. I used my fists because
Words were ignored, words like “no,” “stop,” “don't."
Words still haunt my nightmares, sentences, declarations.
Nobody needs to know; not when the danger is over
The victim is presumed to not remember.
Nobody wants to know - ten years after
I find myself researching psychosis, wondering if I’ve lost my mind
As the brick wall of denial is dismantled, as fanfiction taught me the basic truth
Incest is wrong. He shouldn’t have touched me, shouldn’t still want to
But he does. He does, although he’s learned not to use his words,
Just his eyes, watching. Just insisting on seeing the ID card, the proof
I’m an adult, I can stop this at any time. This is my fault, I don’t think, as I hand
Him the card and don’t think. As he leaves for the bathroom, I don’t think.
As he spends too much time in the bathroom, I wonder, but I don’t let myself ask.
Nobody wants to know what I think. Nobody wants to know what I feel.
Nobody wants to know what happened, which is fine because
Nothing happened. I’m fine. Nothing happened yet
His eyes haunt me, everyone is watching, staring, looking at me sexually because
I’m prey and the entire world is a predator. I’m six years old in the backseat
And my parents tell me to stop torturing my brother. I’m torturing myself now
Twenty-two years old, with friends this has nothing to do with,
They don’t want to know. Please don’t tell them.
They’re lucky enough to have never had eyes on them watching that way, don’t give them my nightmares.
Nothing happened, which means they’re allowed to not care.
Nothing happened, so I should not be traumatized
Afraid of the fact I have to see him in two months, afraid of the fact
That nobody wants to know what happened because nothing happened this week
Besides looks and my own inference that he masturbated to the picture on my ID.
Nothing happened besides the fact that even outside of my family, I’m not
Supposed to talk about it, to tell anyone, to have anyone know enough to tell me
I’m not at fault. I don’t deserve this. Going home shouldn’t take courage.
Nothing happened, nobody told me they didn’t care. Nobody had to,
The implication was clear enough behind the statement
They can’t help. I want more than they can give.
I’m a bad person; I’m angry. I’m furious. I want to spite them
Tell them anyway, tell them they are nobody. They are nobody
And this is nothing, this is what nothing feels like, looks like.
I don’t exist because of them. It doesn't matter. I’m invisible.
I can’t exist beyond those eyes pinning me to the couch.
I’m nothing happened, I’m nobody caring, nobody wanting to know
Nobody terrified, nobody traumatized, nobody asking for more than he deserves.
I know what I deserve. Hands, eyes, an older brother’s love.
Nothing happened to me. Nothing happened that I didn’t deserve.
I’m tired of being nobody, of nothing happening every nightmare.
I’m exhausted, and I’m the only one who cares.
I’m writing because otherwise I’d tell them they don’t care
I’d make the quiet part loud and then they would have the opportunity to say
What I’m sure they’re thinking: I only talk about it because I want it.
I could stop this at any point. I could always avoid going home.
I only think they’d say these horrific words because I can’t
Stop myself from thinking the truth. They don’t care about me.
Only three people do, and they’re the three that let nothing happen.
I had an opportunity to make myself matter, to make this someone else’s business
And I threw it away because I was convinced that they were
Waiting for an opportunity for nothing to happen, to make me an object.
Nobody needs to know. Nothing happened.
I’m not an object, not objecting, nothing to see here.
I’m not asking for help. I know I outstayed my welcome.
1 note
·
View note
Text
In All the Dark Places
A/N: Set after the season 8 crash, as though Derek & Addison's daughter was on the plane too. It also obviously changes a few things, the major one being that Mark doesn't stay with Lexie after she dies, instead going to find reader (who's about 17-18).
This is written in present tense as it was a practise for my novel. It will also very likely have a part 2, but I can't promise when that'll be up. For now, please enjoy!
Title: In All the Dark Places
Summary: After the plane crash, you find yourself alone, injured, and one hundred percent blind.
Words: 3142
The last thing you remember, you could see.
You’d been sat beside Mark on the plane, your head on his shoulder as you tried to sleep and he messaged Julia on his phone, and then there’d been a bump, and your eyes had shot open.
“Hey, it’s alright,” Mark assured you, reaching for your hand, “just a bit of turbulence.”
Everything is black. You try to open your eyes, and when you can’t, you realise that they’re already open.
“Go back to sleep, Peanut,” Mark said. “Still got a way to go.”
“I wasn’t even sleeping,” you mumbled, the exhaustion in your voice betraying that sentence immediately as you rested your head on his shoulder again.
“Yeah, okay. Julia says hi.”
You realise you should be worrying about that. You should be worrying about the fact your eyes are open and you can’t see anything. You can’t see the birds you can hear, and you can’t see the face of whoever is screaming somewhere in the distance, but you can see black. Pure darkness. Nothingness. So, you worry. Add that to the fact that your entire body feels like dead weight and your skull is pounding relentlessly, you are terrified.
You hadn’t had time to go back to sleep after Mark told you to, because there was more turbulence, only now you don’t think it had been turbulence, and the last thing you remember… the last thing you could see… was something you don’t wish to see again. Your hand ripped from Mark’s, a roaring noise and the sound of metal tearing apart… you squeeze your eyes shut, not that that does anything, though maybe it’s easier for you to accept that your vision is gone if your eyes are closed.
Your hand wants to clutch at your throbbing head, but it’s numb. You can’t even move the other one, like it’s trapped under something. Your feet want to get up and run but they’re pinned down. Your mouth wants to scream, your voice aches to escape, but when you try, nothing but a hoarse cry comes out.
There’s a sick feeling in your stomach, and your breathing starts to constrict. You try tugging at any part of your body that allows you to move it, a desperate panic settling in your chest, but you’re well and truly stuck. Fastened to the ground, like the earth is swallowing you. Maybe that’s why you can’t see anything. Maybe you’re covered in dirt and roots. But you can feel the air, and you’re cold, so maybe not.
Finally, some noise comes from your mouth, though really, it’s from your throat, and it’s a strangled, choking sound that scares you even more. Your cheeks are wet, and you can’t even focus on the birds to distract you because there are no birds. Not anymore. Everything is silent, save for the cold whistling wind freezing your tears, and that screaming.
“Help,” you manage to choke out. There’s a lump in your throat, and it moves when you try to force out more words, something like “Dad” or “Mark”, because those are the only people you want to see right now. You would try to call your mom, too, but she’s not here, at least you don’t think she is, she’s safe somewhere else, and she doesn’t know you’re here right now, wherever you are, and she doesn’t know you’re hurt, and you can’t move, and you can’t see.
God. You want your mom.
“Mommy—” Another strangled word escapes you, and it hurts your throat, like each sound you make has a razor attached to it and it digs into the soft tissue of your oesophageal tube as it climbs its way up towards your lips…
“Y/N!”
That shout sparks a flame of relief in your very gut, though the terror coursing throughout you doesn’t wane. That’s your name. Whoever shouted your name—that familiar voice—was-is looking for you.
“Here,” you croak out. “I-I’m here. Here. Pl’se.”
“Y/N! Can you hear me?”
The frustration of having no words gets to you quick, and infuriated tears roll down your cheeks. You can’t keep trying. You’re a doctor. Almost. You know that using the little energy you have will kill you faster. And you say kill, because you can’t stop thinking about it now. The plane, and the fall, and the last time your eyes saw something other than black.
So, you lie still. You close your eyes and calm your breathing, blocking out the memories, though it’s more difficult than usual because now you think there’s something heavy on your chest.
You want to see.
You want to see who’s calling your name. You want to see if you’re bleeding, if there’s any possible way you can push whatever’s on your chest off so that you can breathe and stay alive. You want to see where you are, if the rushing noise is the wind or your blood. You just want to see.
“Y/N!”
That’s a woman’s voice. A woman’s voice that sounds like Meredith’s. And though it’s not your mom, it also sort of is, so you muster as much strength as you can to yell, “Help!”
Then you deflate, your breaths coming in quick gasps and your head absolutely swimming. You think for a moment you might die, here and now, before anyone can come and get you, and you think about your dad, and your mom, and your uncle Mark, and Meredith, and your baby sister, and your aunts, and your grandma, all people you might never get to see again. Even if you survive this, your vision hasn’t improved since you first noticed the dark void. You think there’s a limit to that. A limit to how long whatever’s hurt can last unfixed before clear vision becomes a memory.
“Here!” someone close by shouts, and you jolt a bit in surprise, wincing at the pain it causes. “She’s here! Shit, Y/N.”
The voice is even closer now, and you hear a rustling noise as whoever it is gets down beside your head.
“Who is it?” you croak out. You want to know who it is. You could recognise Meredith. But the pain is making everything hazy. You wonder if the pain is making your vision disappear, too. Maybe if you fall asleep, and the pain goes, you’ll be able to see again.
“It’s Mark. It’s me. Can you see me? Look.” A cold hand rests against your cheek and it’s now that you realise how hot your skin is. You hiss at the touch and try to recoil but the hand doesn’t remove itself, instead shifting to your forehead.
“She’s burning up,” Mark says. “We’ve got to get this off her now. Try not to move, Y/N.”
“Oh my God, we need extra hands,” says someone else—Meredith? She sounds like she’s been crying—before her yell echoes in your ears: “Cristina!”
“What? You found him?” Cristina yells back, just as you hear a loud creak and Mark makes a noise of frustration. Or pain. You try to ask if he’s okay, but words fail you. You think he’s trying to get you out. Out of whatever’s holding you down.
“Y/N! We found Y/N!”
“Crap, is she okay?”
There seems to be a pause in which you feverishly try to get away from the cold hand which has returned to your hot cheek, but it follows you, a second hand coming into the mix on the back of your head where you thinks you might be bleeding. A quick, concerned sigh tells you you’re right.
“Yeah, she’s okay,” Meredith replies, her voice uncertain, but you know her enough to tell when she’s lying. Even in your daze, you can tell she’s trying to make you feel better.
“Look at her eyes,” you just about hear. You think if you could see right now, there would be a haze of white spots in your vision. You can feel yourself drifting, though into what you don’t know.
“Can you see this, Y/N?”
See what? you want to say, but you’re too tired to open your mouth.
“They’re not moving, Mark.”
“I know. Shit, I know. Come on, Cristina, Meredith, help me lift this. Okay? Ready? One, two, push.”
You thought the pain would get better when Mark gets whatever’s on you off, but it doesn’t. It hurts even more. Agony, in fact. Torture. The pain shoots up from your ribs to your shoulders, down to your fingers, to your toes, amplifying the pounding in your head and the rippling feeling of terror that makes you scream.
You figure this can’t be it. You were in a plane crash, so obviously somebody hates you, and obviously you’re going to be forced to endure more pain. This agony is on the precipice of hell, and you can feel yourself getting hotter every second. But eventually, after your scream turns silent and you feel both in pain and numb—how is that possible? To feel everything and yet feel nothing at all?—you hear a loud crash, and then someone’s next to you and a harsh pressure is suddenly on your stomach.
“Shit, have you got it?”
“Mark…” you whine, your eyes squeezed shut.
“I’m here, Peanut,” Mark says, “I’m right here. Yeah, I’ve got it, it’s not too big.” He’s breathing so loud. Or maybe that’s just you. “God, I’m sorry this is happening. So damn sorry.” He sounds distant, like he’s talking to someone else, but you can’t see him so you can’t tell.
“Is there anything else?” He sounds hoarse. “I can only see this wound here, and—” He turns your head gently. “She’s got a gash on the back of her head. Check her legs.”
Someone’s hand goes to your legs, and you flinch at the coldness of their skin, even though you’re already shivering. Or trembling. Is there a difference? “No open wounds,” Cristina tells him, “but they’re bruised pretty bad. Definitely broken.”
“Her arm, too,” Meredith speaks up. Then you hear a rip. “Here, Mark, use this.”
“I saw bandages on the plane.” Cristina. “We’ve got to press down on that until we can stitch it. Or staples… do we have those? What do we have?”
“I can go check,” Meredith says, “I need to—maybe I’ll see him on the way back. Maybe—”
“Cristina, go.” Mark again. Panicked Mark. “Meredith, you find him.”
“What—will you be okay here?” Cristina asks, clearly doubtful. She’s always doubtful.
“Yes, yes, go. I’ve got the bleeding under control for now.” Mark lets go of your hand, probably to take Meredith’s spot at your wherever they need to apply pressure, and you hear a scuffle of leaves and other stuff. You assume Meredith and Cristina have gone to… what are they doing again?
“Alright, Peanut.” Mark. You love Mark. You feel him moving, his hand still putting pressure on your stomach. “You’ve got a little wound here where my hand is, alright? You can feel that? I need to know you can feel it, honey.”
You whisper your response. It’s the best you can do, but he accepts it.
“Okay, okay, good. Good. That’s really good. Cristina’s gone to get a surgical stapler. You remember those? Your dad let you use one once, remember?”
“Yeah,” you say quietly. “After he used it on my l-leg. Hurt like a—a bitch.”
He chuckles, but it sounds watery. You feel his hand at your forehead, brushing back the hair the wind’s blown in your face. “I know, they suck, but I’ll have an extra hand to hug you with, hey? Sound good?” You nod and hear him mutter an almost silent “alright” before he speaks again. “It looks like you’ve got a broken fibular and probably your left radius, too. I expect you can’t move those. Can you try for me?”
You try. You can’t. Tears well in your eyes at the sheer effort it takes to try. “No,” you cry out, your breathing coming in heavy gasps, and then there’s a horrible scream in the distance that makes your heart leap, and you remember something. “Where’s Dad?” Mark doesn’t reply immediately, so you ask again, only this time you realise the tears have begun to fall, mingling with the blood and mud on your face and filling your open mouth with a gross mix of salt and metal. “Where’s Daddy?” you sob. “Where is he? Is he okay? Mark—Mark—”
You can’t breathe.
You really can’t—can’t—breathe—
“Calm down, Y/N,” Mark says. You can hear him panicking. “Please, Peanut, you’ve gotta calm down for me, okay? Your dad’s okay. He’s fine. He’s—Meredith’s with him now. Alright? Alright?”
The moment he tells you your dad’s okay, you focus on your breathing, just like you’ve been taught. You can hear Mark breathe with you, counting to three before letting his breath out again, then you repeat it like a mantra. You repeat “Dad’s okay” in your head like a mantra, too. Even though you know he’s lying. Even though you know it took him far too long to tell you your dad’s okay for your dad to, in fact, be okay. But either way, you will yourself to believe it, to imagine it being the least crazy thing that’s happened to you today; your dad being alive.
It’s not crazy, is it? You’re alive.
A shiver runs up your spine. You feel cold in a different way. “What about-what about everyone else?” you ask quietly. It takes a lot of effort to speak any louder.
You hear Mark come to lie beside you, probably propping himself up on his elbow like he does on the bed when he watches you read a book to Sofia, a stupid smile on his face, though he doesn’t groan like he’s doing now.
“How’s that eyesight of yours?” he asks you. “Can you see anything? Light or—anything?”
You barely manage to shake your head. You don’t want to talk about your eyes. Forget about your eyes. Your brain has.
“Arizona?” You turn your head to him. You don’t know why. You can’t see. “Is she okay?”
Mark sighs as he strokes your forehead. “Uh, h-her leg’s pretty bashed up,” he tells you. That was probably who you heard screaming earlier.
You try to remember who was on the plane. Mark, Dad, Meredith, Arizona… Dad—already said Dad. Cristina. And…
“Lexie?” You swallow back something which tastes like that nasty concoction again. Blood and tears.
He’s quiet, and when he speaks, after clearing his throat a number of times, he sounds hoarse. “You sure you can’t see anything? Here, do you-do you see my hand? Stay awake for me now, Y/N.”
You don’t respond or try to repeat your question. All you do is turn your head back, face pointed towards the sky. A greedy sky that does not know when to stop taking things.
You don’t think Lexie is okay. In fact, you think she may be the least okayest of you all. Even your dad, who you’re sure was the one who screamed that last time… Yes. You don’t think Lexie is okay at all. So, you don’t press Mark. You can feel his hurt. You can feel his pain, as though it’s all travelling through his skin to yours. So, you let him stroke your hair with a shaking hand as his other lays flat against your stomach, and when Cristina comes back with a stapler, you don’t protest as he stitches you back together.
“Are you okay? Meredith wanted me to ask if you’re okay.”
“I’m fine.”
“You don’t sound—”
“I’m fine, Cristina.”
A moment later. “Have you got her?” Cristina asks.
“Where’re you going?”
“It’s—” She pauses for a moment, as though contemplating her words, then lets them spill. “It’s Derek,” she finally admits. “We’ve found him. I’ve got to go back and help Mer. Have you got her?”
“Is he okay?”
“Better than her.”
Dad. Your heart both drops and rises at the same time. You feel like you could fly and never stop. And you also feel like you could throw up.
“Shit.” Mark helps you do exactly that, his hand flying back to your newly stitched abdomen so you don’t rip anything as you turn your head and spill the contents of your stomach. Had you even eaten anything on the plane?
You start to cry. Not because you’re throwing up, no, that feels almost like a relief. But because your whole body—your whole, broken body—jars and jolts with a force you’ve only just found you still possess. Mark has to put you in as much of a recovery position as your fractured bones will allow so you don’t choke.
“We’ve got to get her to Derek,” Cristina mutters. You think. You can’t really hear.
God, you hopes you don’t lose your hearing, too. What would be the point, then?
“How? Do we have a-a stretcher or something? Can we carry her? She’s—God, she’s pretty fucking fragile right now, Cristina.”
“I don’t know. Maybe we can bring Derek to her. Have you got her? I’ve gotta go—”
“It’s okay, I’ve got her, I’ve got her,” Mark insists. “Go to Derek. Tell him she can’t see. She’s hit her head, might just be a concussion, but he needs to have a look at her before anyone else, whether we take her there or he comes here. Work it out, but quickly.”
Cristina calls back an affirmation and then it’s just you and Mark again, him holding onto you and you grappling for a hold on reality.
He strokes your hair again and you sniffle, feeling like you’ve been dunked under water.
“Okay, Peanut. You’re okay. I’ve got you. Uncle Mark’s got you.”
“Dad-Daddy’ll fix my eyes, won’t he?” He has to. Nobody else can.
“Hey, is there anything your dad can’t fix?” He lies beside you, and you hear him hiss in pain. You really want to ask if he’s alright, even though you know he’s not—you’d forgotten for a moment that Lexie is most probably dead—but he grasps both sides of your face before you can with his cool hands and you feel him put his forehead against yours. A sense of calm fills you immediately, and you listen to his breathing and try to match it to your own. In and out, in and out, Dad will make me see again, in and out, Lexie might be okay, in and out, I’ll see Mom soon, in and out, everything will be okay.
“You’re gonna be okay, baby girl,” Mark whispers. A promise. You think he’s crying. “We’re gonna be okay.”
You don’t quite believe him, but you force yourself to, anyway.
It’s the only way, after all. What else?
Grey’s Masterpost
#grey's anatomy#mark sloan#derek shepherd#meredith grey#cristina yang#mark x reader#mark sloan x reader#derek x reader#derek shepherd x reader#meredith x reader#meredith grey x reader#cristina x reader#cristina yang x reader#mark x derek#derek x mark#mark x meredith#meredith x mark#meredith x derek#derek x meredith#mine#reader#reader fic#teen reader#teen!reader#daughter reader#daughter!reader#meredith x cristina#cristina x meredith#mark x cristina#cristina x mark
1K notes
·
View notes
Text
You Get Injured!
Yo! I’m back and this time with a little bit of angst. One thing about me: I ADORE ANGST!!! LEMME BREAK SOMEONE’S HEART!!! I love, love, love writing angst so much! Anyway, enjoy!
Summary: You get injured on the job, what’s his reaction?
Includes: Aether, Kaeya, Diluc, Venti, Razor, Xiao, Xingqiu, Zhongli, and Childe! (YES I ADDED AETHER >:0)
Come one, come all! See what happens when you come home injured!
Warnings: Mentions of blood, no details though.
You were supposed to be with Aether, but he had his own commissions, but he swore he’d come help you right after. You weren’t patient and ended up getting into a fight with too many hilichurls and it didn’t end well.
He immediately remembered the time he lost Lumine, but for some reason, he was even more scared than that incident. He felt as if the wind had been knocked out of him and he’d completely frozen up. When he saw your bloodied form fall to the floor, it brought him back to reality.
He ran to you and pulled you into his arms, desperately searching for life. He needed to see that you were ok. In fact, he’d taken your hand and squeezed your wrist to feel your pulse. It was weak, but it was there. He pressed his lips to yours, ignoring the taste of iron that followed.
As the doctor was stitching up the larger gashes, he was cleaning up the blood around your face and whispering words of encouragement to you. He gave you water and held your hand throughout the entire process.
PERSONAL NURSE AETHER REPORTING FOR DUTY! Beck and call, whenever you need him, he’s there for you. He put his adventuring on hold until you were 100% better.
Did you need an adventuring partner? Cuz Aether needs one! And you’re the perfect candidate. He’s going on adventures will you- well ok, he’s going EVERYWHERE with you but for a while. Once his nerves and anxiety dies down, he backs off quite a bit.
You had been fighting hilichurs for a commission and the last thing you had expected was multiple Mitachurls to be around. Well, there were more than you could handle and they floored you.
His heart almost stopped when he saw your bloodied form walking towards him, reaching out ever so weakly. He sprinted towards you, hating that he wasn’t there for you. Why was he so slow?! Why were so you far away, dammit?
He takes you into his arms and holds you close before quickly rushing you to the doctor. He knew he might’ve been a bit rough, but he could barely think. All that was going through his mind was him wishing that it was all just a nightmare.
He’s there 24/7, whenever you need him. He’s got meals, blankets, cuddles, kisses, whatever you need. He helps you with EVERYTHING. He knew it was hard to shower with all those wounds and he didn’t want your stitches to open up, so he was a bit strict.
After your full recovery, he’s a little bit hesitant to let you go on your own. He might just join you on a mission or two. Don’t mind him, but once his worries are eased a little, he backs off. Besides, the cavalry captain can’t exactly run around with you, even though he so desperately wants to.
You were on your way to Mondstat from Liyue where you ended up on a beach with more ruin guards than you could handle (may the lord protect you if you wander there on accident).
Full fledged panic. It almost feels like someone was actively tearing his heart out. He couldn’t even breathe in that moment. He desperately wished he could heal you (I don’t think he can…), make you all better so you wouldn’t have to hurt so much. Were… were you crying?
He ran to you but the second he reached out to touch you, he pulled back a little. He was almost scared to touch you, like something as gentle as his touch might shatter what remained. He didn’t want to hurt you anymore, but it was clear you couldn’t walk so he had to carry you.
He does hold you close when you get help, whispering words of encouragement and love to you; anything to help. He immediately helped clean the blood off of you, trying to be as gentle as possible.
Through your healing process, he’s beside you constantly. He helps you with everything. Anything you need, he’s there. Thirsty? He’s got some water. Hungry? He’s got a plate of food. Need cuddles? Scoot over.
He’s actually terrified to let you go, but he knows you. This is your job and he’d seen you in action. So, he does let you go… as long as he can stick to you like glue (Cries in no Venti).
You had been hunting some abyss mages down and everything was going great… until it wasn’t. A rookie mistake almost caused your death. You’d never been so scared and the only thing you could think of was Diluc in that moment. You wanted to be in his arms.
He thought he’d been caught in a nightmare. He genuinely believed it wasn’t you. But when you called out to him, he was yanked back to reality. Everything felt so weird, it felt like a weird out of body experience for him. He was so scared he was shaking as he reached out to touch your bloodied face.
The first thing he does is check you to see how bad your injuries are before he brings you home to his personal doctor. Your blood burned him, it stung as tears welled up in his eyes. How could he let this happen to you? How could he fail you like this?
As the doctor patches you up, he sits beside you, holding your hand and giving you kisses every now and then, telling you you’re doing great and that you’ll be ok. He was still shaking, but he didn’t want you to worry, so he did his best to hide it.
He’s extremely busy, so he can’t be beside you 24/7, but he tries to be with you every single night. In fact, he lets the knights handle everything while you heal, not wanting to leave you alone for too long
You best believe he’s hunting down every single abyss mage in existence. One hurt you? They all suffer. You try to keep him in check by keeping him at your side.
You had decided to challenge Electro Hypostases on your own... You should’ve been more careful. You didn’t realize how powerful it was and you got extremely lucky.
Oh he can smell your blood from a distance. So he didn’t even need to see you to know you were injured. He was terrified. His heart was beating so fast and he couldn’t catch his breath. He felt himself going insane when he couldn’t find you.
Well wolves lick their wounds, but he couldn’t lick yours. One, it wouldn’t work, your wounds were too deep, two, he was a human, not a wolf. He knew your friends could help you so he rushed you back to Mondstat (I’m sure this is probably wrong, feel free to roast me).
Although he knew the doctors were just trying to help, he couldn’t stop himself from being aggressive. He even growled at a doctor when you whimpered as you received the stitches. Kaeya and Jean had to hold him back.
No one is allowed near you until you’re fully healed, Razor doesn’t let anyone get close. It’s not just him being super possessive, he was deeply terrified that in case someone attacked you while he wasn’t there…
Your new adventure partner is Razor. Even if he has to live in Mondstat with the other humans, he’ll do it. As long as you’re with him. Don’t bother trying to argue, it won’t work.
You had a teeny weeny competition with Xiangling that you two could find the best ingredients first. You got careless, wandered into a hilichurl camp, only to get floored by 4 mitachurls.
Who hurt you?! Who hurt you and where are they? Xiao just wants to talk.
Thankfully, the boss of the inn was able to find some help for you and helped patch you up, while Xiao waited patiently. On the outside he looked calm, on the inside- well it was chaos. Nothing could calm his anger and anxiety.
He reassured you that you did a great job, letting you know that he was proud of you. Not to mention, he kept thanking you for coming back alive so that he could save you. He didn’t even want to think about what could’ve happened if you weren’t able to come back…
He kept you close. As you healed, he was almost like a personal nurse. He brought you whatever you wanted and lots of almond tofu. If you don’t like it… well more for him.
He was very reluctant to let you go. He couldn’t go with you and it was his biggest regret. But he knew holding you back would do nothing, therefore he poured all his faith and trust in you. So please... come back to him.
You had gone to visit Chang the Ninth and on the way back had seen a village get attacked by some abyss mages. You jumped into action without thinking… at all.
Xingqiu actually hadn’t looked up from his book because he was so invested. You called after him, collapsing nearby but he wasn’t even paying attention. Finally, he heard you scream and jumped, his heart leaping out of his chest. He still won’t forgive himself… or pick up a book.
He immediately takes you back home, carefully carrying you so that he wouldn’t agitate your injuries anymore than they already were.
He stayed by your side and even helped patch you up, wanting to do as much as he could to help. He even kissed your injuries to help them heal faster.
He stays by your side as much as possible. You suggest he read you some books, but it seems like he’s too scared to touch any. Something that might need time to recover from.
Xingqiu’s still too busy to join you, but whenever he can, he definitely does. He is a little too protective in the beginning but as time goes on, he finds himself being able to hold back.
You just needed some chaos devices, just a few. YOU DIDN’T EXPECT TO GET YOUR ASS HANDED TO YOU SO BADLY!
He couldn’t believe it. His heart had almost stopped when he saw you walking towards him. You were covered in blood and you weakly reached out before you fell. He dashed forward and caught you before you hit the ground.
He takes you to his place, getting a doctor to immediately patch you up. As they were cleaning your wounds, he tried to stay calm, yet had this overwhelming urge to destroy whatever hurt you into a million pieces.
He stayed with you, nursing you back to health. Of course, constantly forgetting mora was a thing when buying you literally anything. This will never change.
He wasn’t able to understand why he couldn’t physically let you go in the beginning. Slowly, it made sense that he was scared. Scared he might lose you and that you might never come back. Scared you might disappear like you almost did. But you were… well you. So he had to trust you. Come back home to him safely.
You had just finished up your commissions and were head home when you stumbled upon an Oceanid. You needed a cleansing heart… or four. You weren’t prepared and you were a little tired, but you went anyway. You were lucky you came back alive.
Childe had set up a cute little date for you two, but you were running a little bit late. He was starting to get worried and when he asked Katheryne, he was surprised to learn that you hadn’t returned home from your commissions. Then he saw you. Leaving a trail of blood and limping towards him. He felt as if someone had done all that to him instead.
He immediately runs to you, with Katheryne following. The two of them quickly get you some medical attention, but Childe refuses to let go the entire time. No matter what anyone says, they can’t take you away, so he goes with you everywhere.
You explain what had happened afterwards and he was angry that you’d put yourself in danger for a stupid item. But at the same time, he was proud of you for beating the Oceanid and coming back to him, regardless of what shape you were in. You still got an earful though.
He wanted to be around you 24/7, but he’s really busy. He tries to get away from work as much as he can to spend time with you. Throughout your healing process, he does a lot to help. Simple things like making you meals, the ones that melt your heart.
He was reluctant, constantly checking up on you and even wanting to go on adventures with you. But he couldn’t spend every minute with you, so he needed to learn how to ease his own anxieties. Of course, you would never say no to going on a few adventures with him.
#genshin impact#genshin impact x reader#genshin kaeya#genshin diluc#genshin venti#genshin aether#genshin razor#genshin xingqiu#genshin zhongli#genshin childe#genshin headcanons#genshin imagines#aether x reader#kaeya x reader#diluc x reader#diluc headcanons#venti x reader#razor x reader#xingqiu x reader#zhongli x reader#genshin xiao#xiao x reader#childe x reader
6K notes
·
View notes
Text
1 step forward, 3 steps back.
warnings: rafe being… rafe. drug mention & consumption, cursing, toxic relationship, sexual situations/implications, mental health issues. ANGST.
[AN: this is the first thing i’ve written, ever, so my apologies if it’s not flawless ; also, english is not my first language, that’s a warning on its own]
my requests are open btw
click for my master list
word count: 4.4K
Called you on the phone today
Just to ask you how you were
All I did was speak normally
Somehow I still struck a nerve
“Hey,” you said in a soft tone as soon as Rafe picked up the phone, you were laying down on your bed, staring at the ceiling.
“Hey princess,” his tone was calm, but his voice was rough and raspy all together.
“How you doing?” you asked him, even though you’d seen him last night, up close.
“I’m doing great,” he replied in a surprisingly cheerful tone, which is weird this early in the morning. Rafe is not a morning person. “You sound tired.”
“I am tired,” you confirmed with a sigh. “Guess I have you to thank for that.”
“My pleasure.” he replied cockily, and even though you couldn’t see him, you could practically hear his proud smirk.
“So, what’s the plan today?” you asked in a casual tone, fidgeting with the edge of Rafe’s shirt, the one you wore to sleep.
“Uh, what do you mean?” he asked in a distracted tone, he sniffed subtly and coughed.
You knew what that meant, but still, you hoped it wasn’t what you deep down knew it was.
“Yeah, I mean—“ you said and made a brief pause. “Wanna go to the club? Maybe we can take a ride on the boat, you know, with food, alcohol... just us.”
“Can’t, I’m busy.” he said after a few seconds, if you didn’t know him better and his occasional mood swings, you would’ve said his tone was harsh.
"Really?" you asked in a soft tone, trying to disguise your disappointment with interest. "But I thought we were going out together today."
"Y/N, just because I'm your boyfriend it doesn't mean I have to be with you all the fucking time."
Okay, now he was definitely angry, you thought you said the right thing, but it still made him angry.
"Rafe-"
"No, Y/N. I have a life of my own, you know? Things to do besides you."
“That’s okay Rafe, I get it,” You said calmly, nodding your head softly. “Have fun today.”
Now you clearly heard the sound of him sniffing something and the sigh that left his lips after, and Barry’s voice in the background. “Don’t play the victim card on me, that’s not gonna work. I deserve to have some time off.”
“I didn’t,” you said softly. “And it’s okay baby, you’re right, you deserve to have some fun.”
“See? No need to be so fucking dramatic,” he said, his voice and words slurring. You? Dramatic? It was all him. “But don’t worry princess, I’ll drop by tonight and fuck the attitude out of you, yeah? That way I’m not just doing things with you, I’m doing you.”
And with such a vulgar comment and a harsh tone, Rafe hung up on you, leaving you completely dumbfounded and filled with incredulity.
What you did know for a fact, is that he would keep up his word. And judging by his tone of voice and how annoyed he was, you could already imagine the ache between your legs.
You got me fucked up in the head, boy
Never doubted myself so much
Like, am I pretty? Am I fun, boy?
I hate that I give you power over that kind of stuff
You knew exactly what you were getting into when you started hooking up with Rafe, and what you were committing to when you agreed to be his girlfriend.
You know that man carries more problems than he shows, he prefers to make himself appear as the Kook prince who lives a life of partying and money; hiding all the things that were going on in his head.
However, there were times when his attitude made you doubt yourself.
You couldn't help but think, ‘What if one day I don't manage to calm him down?’ ‘What if one day he realizes that there is someone prettier, or hotter, or wealthier out there?’
And Rafe would get angry if you doubted yourself. He would complain to you about it, saying you had no reason to be insecure about your looks; if you are absolutely gorgeous, or to feel insecure about your personality; if you were the most genuine person he'd ever met, and you could make him laugh until he forgot all his problems.
But what really made him furious was when you had doubts about the relationship itself, about whether or not he was capable of leaving you for someone else. He took those doubts personally, as if he wasn't trying hard enough to show you how much you mean to him.
When in reality; you were doubting yourself.
'Cause it's always one step forward
You were preparing dinner for you and Rafe, your family was out for the weekend, and Rafe had decided to spend it with you.
Your hair was tied up in a bun, your attire consisted of nothing but your underwear and a shirt that used to be Rafe's, but you took it so long ago that it's yours now.
Music from your shared playlist played in the background, as you danced absentmindedly with a spatula in hand, extremely calm and enjoying time with your boyfriend.
Rafe could do nothing but stare at you with admiration, you are literally the only good thing in his life; his little piece of heaven. You are everything to him.
As soon as Dark Red by Steve Lacy started playing, you let out an excited gasp. That song in particular is Rafe’s and yours, like… if you two had to choose a song to describe your relationship, it would be that one. It represented how you two did not always have good times, but your love prevailed.
Seeing you this happy, comfortable and at ease with him made Rafe's soul happy. All his life, he had done nothing else besides make people angry, disappointed, terrified. But with you, everything was different.
You were so focused on swaying your hips to the music and singing, that you didn't notice when Rafe stood up and walked over to where you were.
It wasn't until he stood behind you, chest to back and with his hands on your hips, that you realized he was closer. His head was bowed, you could feel his breathing close to your ear, so he was able to murmur in your ear the lyrics of the song:
“Only you, my girl, only you, babe,” he sang in your ear, his voice a soft whisper as he wrapped his arms around your body and started to sway with you. “Only you, darling, only you, babe.”
The gesture quickened your heart to unsuspected levels, you felt your knees weaken as you pressed closer to his body, appreciating his closeness as he pressed a kiss against your temple.
“You know I love you so much, right?” he mumbled in your ear, as you closed your eyes and relished his presence.
“I love you too, baby.” you mumbled back, leaning your head against his chest, caressing one of his arms around your waist with your fingertips, and bringing your hand to his ash blond hair, stroking it softly.
and three steps back
“Why is he mad at you, again?” Topper asked you with a raised eyebrow, after witnessing Rafe utterly avoiding even looking at you when he walked into the room and then left without a word.
“Because I told Barry to not open the door if Rafe dropped by,” You replied with a shrug, closing your eyes and leaning back against the chair. “And when Rafe tried to lash out on him, Barry said it all had been ‘Mrs.Country Club’s’ request.”
“And he’s mad at you because you don’t want him to get all fucked up?” Topper questioned next, trying to understand the situation. But he never knew what the fuck you two were up to.
“Yes, but it’s Rafe, are you surprised?” you said with a heavy sigh.
“No, not really,” Topper admitted. “Honestly, I don’t know why you keep up with him, Y/N.”
“I ask myself that all the time…” you said with a deep sigh. “But I love him, so I guess that’s the answer.”
“And? I mean, I don’t want to be ‘that guy’ Y/N, but he’s…” Topper trailed off, apparently looking for the right word.
“I know exactly how he is, Topper, I don’t need you to remind me. I already think about that way too much.”
You and Topper had easily assumed that Rafe was no longer around, since he seemed to be making his best efforts to avoid you.
But Rafe was there, and he heard everything. He’d heard Topper giving you bad advice (or what he considered bad advice) And he heard you, having doubts about why you loved him or stood by him at all,and it made him want to lash out again.
I'm the love of your life until I make you mad
It's always one step forward and three steps back
Do you love me, want me, hate me? Boy, I don't understand
No, I don't understand
[+18. Really]
“Leave me alone!” his voice boomed in the room, his brows furrowed and the veins in his neck were popping out.
“Rafe—“ you tried once again, approaching slowly in an attempt to place a hand on his shoulder, but he waved it away aggressively.
“Leave-me-alone,” he said, pausing in between each word to emphasize on how much he meant it. His eyes were bloodshot, his nose had specks of white dust, his lips were dry and his voice was coarse.
You weren’t entirely sure what you could say to get him to calm down. Or if there was anything at all you could do.
Normally, what upsets him the most is Ward. His own father. Rafe has spent his whole life trying to prove he's a good son, to make his father proud, and Ward never appreciates his efforts, only notices the bad, and ignores Rafe's clear calls for help, has since Rafe was 10 years old, so he certainly wasn't going to pay attention to him now that Rafe finally had a steady girlfriend, someone who had willingly decided to help.
95% of the time, you managed to talk to Rafe before he decided to resort to intoxication. Most of the time just seeing you helped him calm down, hearing your voice soothed him, and your lips, your skin, put him in a state of peace.
But the other 5% is when Rafe resorted to alcohol and, above all, drugs.
When Rafe is upset and decides to get high, he only manages to become unstable, erratic and yes, aggressive if not handled with care.
In those situations, the best thing you can do, putting yourself first, is to give him his space. Let him screw himself as much as he wants for that day, and help him deal with the consequences the next day, while you listen to him lament his attitude.
Rafe always said he would quit the vice; claiming you were all he needed to calm himself down, that you made him feel at peace. And above all, that you weren't slowly killing him; on the contrary, every minute he spent with you made him feel more alive.
However, for one reason or another, he always came back to it. Whether it was at a party, because Kelce suggested it, or, as is almost always the case, when he's upset with his father and needs quick relief.
And usually, this ‘quick relief’ ends up with Rafe fucked up, big time.
Once he was convinced that you wouldn't try to intervene again, Rafe went back to his business. He turned to the table, and since he already had the line ready, he simply leaned over and inhaled it, throwing his head back, running his hand through his hair and exhaling as he closed his eyes.
You exhaled heavily, shaking your head as you stared at your feet. You knew he would struggle to quit, after all it is an addiction and he has to fight it, but sometimes you get the impression that Rafe doesn't want to quit, not really.
"Do you want to help me?" asked Rafe eventually, turning his head to look at you. You didn't know if it was a trick question or not, so you hesitated before answering. "Answer me."
"Yes, of course I want to, Rafe." you replied with your respective hesitations, wondering what he was up to.
"Come here then," he said, making a 'come hither’ sign with his fingers.
You took a hesitant step but stopped, your eyes narrowing as you analyzed Rafe, trying to determine his intentions.
He raised both eyebrows in your direction, in a silent question of whether or not you're going to go with him.
Eventually you walked over to where Rafe was, he smiled at you while biting his lip lightly. Without saying anything he approached you and kissed you; the drugs made his senses heighten, so the kiss was intense from the beginning.
So that's when it made sense to you what he wanted, he wanted you. Your most obvious thought is that he would use you to take out your frustration, put the drugs aside and, most likely, fuck you.
Your idea seemed to be the right one as soon as Rafe grabbed you by the waist, still with his lips on yours, left a little bite on your lip before pulling away; and without any problem, lifted you off the floor and placed you on the table.
It's something you wouldn't admit out loud,—mostly out of shame and guilt,—but this kind of sex with Rafe was the best, he's completely unrestrained, rough, full of stamina and teasing, and above all, possessive. And that, in combination with his attractiveness, always drove you crazy.
And honestly; if what he wanted was to fuck you to take out his frustration, you'd let him.
His kisses were hungry and his hands desperate, running all over your body without distinction, as if he didn't know where to start.
He parted his lips from yours, and left a kiss at the corner of them, on your jaw; and began to make a little trail of slow kisses down your neck. The feeling of his lips on your neck made you bite your lip as you wrapped your legs around his waist to feel him closer.
You slid your hand under his shirt, caressing his defined abs and the sides of his body gently with the tips of your fingers, as he left little bites on your neck. Your hands slowly moved up, intending to remove his shirt, but Rafe was quicker and brought his hands to the edge of your shirt, causing you to stop your movements to raise your arms, so he could remove your shirt with ease. And so he did.
He parted his lips from your neck and stared at you, the hunger in his eyes made you feel a fire in the pit of your stomach that only he could put out.
Desperately, your lips connected again as he settled between your legs. One of his hands traveled to your neck, and he wrapped his fingers around it, pressing lightly to the sides. Your eyes rolled to the back of your head; though he couldn't see it.
With just enough strength, Rafe used the grip he had on your neck to push you down onto the table, so that you were lying on top of it.
As soon as he leaned over the table, you could feel his breath over abdomen, so you bit your lip in anticipation for what was to come.
He began to leave slow, wet kisses on your abdomen, making a slow trail to the edge of your shorts. Your automatic reaction was to close your eyes and put a hand in his hair, stroking it gently.
What you didn’t know is that the fact that you closed your eyes had given Rafe an opportunity he couldn't miss. Without you noticing, he slid a hand to the side of the table, where the small bag of white powder was.
To conceal his actions, he unbuttoned your shorts, and returned his lips to the beginning of your abdomen for more time.
The little bite he left to distract your attention caused a gasp to escape your lips; and that sound almost caused him to change plans completely.
He did want to fuck you, don’t get him wrong. He even had a mental debate about whether to continue what he was doing or simply sink his head between your thighs and provoke more sounds like that.
But he wanted to try something first. He had always wanted to try it, but had never asked you, because he knew that you would most likely say no.
With ease, he slid your shorts down your legs; so that they stayed at your ankles or fell to the floor; he didn't care. One of his hands slid into your underwear with ease, his fingers going straight to where he knew you needed him the most.
Trusting that you would not open your eyes, carefully, he put the white substance on your body, so delicately you didn’t notice. He began to prepare to inhale, while biting his lip in reaction to the sinful sounds that left your lips.
And obviously, without warning, Rafe inhaled a line from your thigh.
And all your sounds stopped, your eyes opened and your expression was filled with surprise, the bad kind.
You couldn't believe what Rafe had just done, you felt like an idiot for falling into the trap.
You also had to bite your lip to keep from letting out a moan in reaction to what his fingers were doing in between your legs, but your pride forbade it.
But more than anything else, you were outraged.
“Rafe, you did not just—“
“It felt nice, yeah?” Rafe’s voice was hoarse, you could feel his breath over your skin, as he left little kisses around. “After all, I did feel you clench around my fingers.”
His dirty words, hoarse voice, and close proximity to your body, not to mention his fingers deep inside you, caused you to let out a soft moan, causing Rafe to smirk in what he thought was victory.
But you wouldn't let him win this little game.
Although you really didn't want to, you grabbed his hand by the wrist and pulled him away, your legs trembling slightly at the sudden lack of anything between them.
Rafe's eyebrows furrowed in confusion as soon as you pushed him away from you and got off the table, lifting your shorts off the floor and putting them back on without a word.
"What are you doing?"
You didn't answer, as you searched for your shirt, feeling his heavy gaze on your body.
"Y/N, where do you think you're going?"
“I’m leaving you alone as you asked me to, remember?” you said in irony. “Before you sniffed a line off me after I begged you to quit that shit?”
“Oh, so now you’re playing the victim?” his voice rose. “Don't- Don’t act as if you wouldn’t have let me fuck you less than a minute ago!”
"Yes I would have let you, to distract you from that shit!" you admitted to him, failing to control your anger. "I said I wanted to help you, to distract you, to give you something different to do. Not that I'd give you another place to snort lines from!"
Rafe knew you were right, of course he did.
You had spent months after months trying to get him to quit, you had offered him countless hours of your days to give him something new to do, distractions, attention and love. And this is how he had decided to pay you back?
But Rafe was angry too, very. You had interrupted him, you were yelling at him; and you had left him so hard, that it would start to hurt unless he did something about it.
“Fine, then get the fuck out of here.” Rafe spat, his anger clearly getting the best of him.
Your eyes widened at that, you hadn't expected him to react like that.
Your best case scenario would be that your attitude would piss him off, yes, but that he would retaliate by getting you back to the table and showing you everything you were missing.
Instead, he simply took your word for it and told you to get out of the room.
“What?”
“You heard me, get out.”
“Rafe—“
“You uh, you have three options, yeah? You let me fuck you over that table and do whatever I want, you get out of here, or I’ll get you out of here.”
The first offer was tempting, it really was, but you wouldn’t allow him to talk to you like that. Before anything, came respect and dignity, and no matter how much you wanted him to fuck you silly, you were too angry and disappointed at him to let it slip.
Blinking repeatedly to chase away the tears from your eyes, you grabbed your phone from the other end of the table, your jacket from Rafe's bed, and walked out of there without another word as you heard him calling your name.
And maybe in some masochistic way
I kinda find it all exciting
Like, which lover will I get today?
Will you walk me to the door or send me home cryin'?
Your relationship with Rafe was unique.
Not because of the circumstances in which it was created. A one-night-stand that turned into something casual, that was formalized after a dinner.
If not for Rafe.
You loved him, no doubt about it. You would give anything to see him happy and at peace, at peace with himself and succeeding in his life.
Rafe would do anything for you, really, anything. No matter how risky, demanding or dangerous, he would do anything for you.
He would die and kill for you.
But that surely didn’t mean it was an easy relationship, hell no. In fact, the willingness both of you had to do anything for each other sometimes made things too complicated; for at times it seemed that not a single rational thought crossed your minds.
And yes, Rafe’s addiction was a big issue. Whenever he was too high, or going through withdrawals, he wasn’t the Rafe you knew or had grown to love, it was another side of him you wanted to help get rid off. And the process wasn’t easy.
While trying to get clean; there was no way to know how he’d behave. He could either get clingy and want you around at all times to calm himself down, or he’d be in a very bad mood all the time, constantly snapping at you and raising his voice.
So there were days where he’d walk you to the door of your house and leave you there with a tender kiss and a smile.
Or days when you’d get out of his truck without a word, with tears streaming down your cheeks while he kept yelling for probably the stupidest thing.
No, it's back and forth, did I say something wrong?
It's back and forth, goin' over everything I said
It's back and forth, did I do something wrong?
'It's back and forth, maybe this is all your fault
Rafe knew he wasn’t okay. After all, he had begged his father for help, begged for anything that would get those thoughts to stop, but his father hadn’t listened, had only told him to ‘man up.’
You knew he wasn’t okay. Which is why you wanted to help him, to offer the support no one else had bothered to give him before he met you.
Whether he wanted it or not, those thoughts were still there. Being with you made them easier to ignore, but it’s not like they vanished entirely. He still had some ideas that made his own skin crawl.
And sometimes, you’d say or do the wrong thing and trigger those thoughts. And things got bad again for him.
Rafe knew you wanted nothing but to help him get better and be the best version of himself, and he really wanted to give you that. To change and make an effort. Not only for himself but for you. He wanted to be a man worthy of your love.
But it was hard to be anywhere near decent when you two went out and a guy stared at you for longer than Rafe’s limits allowed, or when guys tried to hit on you, when his friends got a little bit too close for his comfort.
Whenever he got jealous, he turned into a walking, talking ticking bomb. Anything could, and would set him off.
It wasn’t your fault, not really, but most of the time you felt it was. You knew Rafe dealt with a lot of insecurities already, of not being a nice person, not being good enough and so many other things. And you hated being one of the factors that caused his insecurities to arise.
And I'd leave you, but the roller coaster is all I've ever had
It was a complicated relationship, and it would probably never stop being complicated because both of you are complex people, plus there are other factors that affect the relationship.
But that didn't mean either of you would stop fighting to keep it alive. Neither would let the other go.
Rafe utterly refused to ever let you go. He loved you as he had never loved anyone, as he never thought himself capable of loving with that twisted heart of his.
You are, without exception, the best thing in his life, the best thing that ever happened to him. And you being in his heart was slowly turning him into who he had wanted to be during all those years of loneliness.
And you would never let him go, because you loved him with all your heart, soul and nerve of your body. And because you know that no one will ever love you like him. With so much passion, intensity, honesty and purity.
Because every feeling Rafe expressed with you was true; he was himself with you. And you didn't want to let him go.
Even if the two of you went one step forward, and three steps back, that single step would be longer than any step life makes you take backwards.
#outerbanks rafe#rafe fic#rafe smut#rafe imagine#rafe cameron#rafe obx#rafe fanfiction#rafe x y/n#rafe fluff#rafe cameron imagine#rafe one shot#rafe angst#drew starkey#outer banks#hes toxic af but i can fix him#rafe cameron one shot#drew starkey imagine#rafe cameron obx2#obx imagine#outer banks netflix#obx 2 imagines#obx2#obx one shot#rafe cameron fanfiction
797 notes
·
View notes
Text
Misconceptions About Tommyinnit’s Character That Genuinely INFURIATE Me
Since the recent events following the second L’Manburg Festival and subsequent war, I’ve seen many, many hot takes surrounding the nature of Tommyinnit’s character on the SMP. Some of which annoyed me to the point where I felt compelled to sit down and actually write this. I’m going to only be highlighting the most common complaints or questions I’ve seen, one by one, in hopes of providing a better understanding of Tommy’s character for anyone interested. (I also briefly discuss Techno and Tubbo’s characters as well.)
If you’ve said similar things to what I’m going to be discussing below, please know that it’s perfectly understandable how you’d come to these conclusions. Some of these aspects of Tommy’s character are not always obvious; especially if being watched from another streamer’s POV. This may become quite lengthy, so bear with me for now.
“Tommy’s motives are all over the place. He can’t decide whether he wants the discs back or not.”
Tommy is actually one of the most motivationally consistent characters on the entire Dream SMP. Even Techno, someone completely confident in their ideals, does more motivational flipping than Tommy. From the very start of the story, Tommy has always cared for three things; L’Manburg, Tubbo, and his music discs. However, him caring for something is not itself a motivation.
Surprisingly enough, his motivation isn’t even just, ‘Get my discs back,’ like many assume it is. Tommy’s one true motivation, since the end of the Independence War, has always been, ‘Keep things the way they are now.’
Tommy’s one fatal flaw is that he is resistant to change and refuses to let go of the past. This is seen through all of his actions and words; in all conflicts involving him. This flaw is the drive to all of Tommy’s mistakes. Burning down George’s house, an action which resulted in him getting exiled, was done out of a desire to pull pranks the way he used to before the first war. His friendship with Ranboo started because Tommy said he reminded him of Tubbo, back before he was President.
Tommy still talks highly of Wilbur because he chooses to remember him as the wise, kind mentor who cared for him. This motive is the reason he defends L’Manburg so fiercely; it’s his memory of a better past. This is why he holds grudges more often than any other character; especially refusing to forgive Techno after he killed Tubbo during the Manburg Massacre.
It’s why Tommy falls under extreme distress whenever Tubbo or Quackity tell him that something will never be the same again. This motivation is entirely formed from an underlying desire for peace and comfort, something Tommy has been denied since being forced into a life wrought with war and death. To accept change, to Tommy, is painful and terrifying. But he will only ever truly be happy when he finally learns to let go.
“Why do the discs matter so much to Tommy? They’re not actually worth anything.”
Tommy’s discs are much more than just any ordinary pair of music discs. They were never important for their material worth, but for what Tommy was willing to sacrifice in order to keep them. Tommy is entirely what gives the discs their value.
Tommy also commonly operates under the Sunk-Cost Fallacy, wherein he’s invested too much of himself into something to just abandon it, even if it’s causing him problems. This mentality is a huge piece of what keeps him tied to both L’Manburg and to his discs. He’s sacrificed too much at this point to simply let them go. If he admits the discs are worthless, then he’s admitting that he wasted all this time and effort, just to keep them.
The discs also act as a constant source of hope for Tommy because they are directly tied with his motivations as a character. They’re something he’s had since the very beginning. They’re something he used to listen to with Tubbo on their shared bench.
To Tommy, they symbolize a life before war, filled with comfort and peace. They are a love letter to his country and his late mentor Wilbur. They are a physical representation of Tubbo’s companionship. They are the only thing, besides L’Manburg and his best friend, that gives him the hope that he can one day return things to the way they used to be.
This ideal, paired with Tommy’s refusal to let go, has left him ruthlessly pursuing the things he’s lost. Not his music discs, but his peace and comfort, his friendship, his country, his mentor Wilbur, and his life before war.
In his desperation to hold onto his prized possession, it has only hurt and pushed away the people that love him. If Tommy continues to ignore this reality, while still refusing to resolve his major flaw entwined with it, he will lose all that the discs had once stood for. He will lose his country, then his friend Tubbo, and then he will lose himself.
“Tommy never grows or learns from his mistakes. This makes him a badly written character.”
Characters do not have to constantly learn from their actions to be well-written. Tommy is one of the best examples of this. The fact that his growth is infrequent is the entire point of his character; it’s completely stemmed from his fatal flaw.
By addressing himself, he would be accepting change, something that terrifies him; something he stubbornly resists until he is absolutely forced to confront it. Contrary to popular belief, Tommy knows when he makes mistakes, but he pretends to be ignorant as to avoid facing reality. He digs his head in the sand despite knowing better, puppeteering the person he used to be during happier times, now gone.
In spite of his infrequent growth, the idea that Tommy still hasn’t learned anything isn’t quite correct either. Tommy, as of the last three plot streams, has shown incredible character development. By giving up his discs again, he had finally demonstrated that Tubbo is more important to him than his possessions. Speaking as a makeshift leader, he put aside his issues with others to rally them together against a common threat, something which Tommy had never been able to do before. He owned up to all of his mistakes openly, apologizing to everyone he’s ever hurt in one place.
He apologized to Tubbo after they were reunited and came to terms with the fact that Tubbo was forced to exile him without choice, finally forgiving him. He was kind to Sapnap and learned how to be his friend after months of bitter rivalry. And these are only a few examples. This isn’t to say Tommy has overcome/fixed everything because he clearly hasn’t. There are still major things Tommy needs to work through that remain unaddressed, the biggest being his complicated relationship with Technoblade.
“Tommy only cares about himself. He does everything in his power to be the hero, always putting himself in the center of attention, especially during Doomsday.”
Tommy, since the start of the L’Manburg War for Independence, has never set out to be a hero. Not once. He may fall into the role of the protagonist, but his identity as a hero was pushed onto him by others. Giving up the discs was his only option during the Independence War.
So when Wilbur called him a hero for it, Tommy said he didn’t feel like he was. During the November 16th War, Tommy again said he didn’t feel like a hero because he had lost what he thought was everything at the time. During exile, Tommy certainly knew he was no hero. And upon reuniting with Tubbo, he admitted to feeling like the farthest thing from it. That he’d hurt everyone and all he wanted to do now was fix it.
The day before Doomsday, Tommy only took a leadership position because no one else was willing to, filling the role for Tubbo, who was crumbling under pressure. He had no choice but to try to bring everyone together, or fight alone. Most viewers never saw this during Doomsday, but before the battle, almost everyone who had vowed to fight alongside L’Manburg had abandoned them the very next day. They were convinced it was going to be destroyed either way, no matter what they did, so they chose not to see it through to the end; ultimately leaving Tommy and those who remained to fight a losing battle, alone.
After about a third of the way through the battle, it became clear to everyone that they could do nothing to win. One by one, everyone stopped fighting and stood by to watch their country go up in smoke. Tommy was the only person on the battlefield who refused to stand down and give up. And so he took over the role as leader again, trying his best to keep them alive, to keep Tubbo hopeful; to keep fighting, no matter what.
However, what most people don’t realize, is that this isn’t Tommy trying to be a hero or force himself into the spotlight. This is Tommy trying to convince himself to keep going. Because whenever things start to look hopeless, Tommy simply chooses to ignore them. He puts on a happy face and soldiers through it because that’s all he knows how to do. Tommy, at his core, is someone who wants peace through stagnation. He doesn’t want to fight, although causing the occasional friendly conflict is how he finds fun. He doesn’t set out to purposely hurt others.
Tommy may come across as self-centered, but this is because he is an extremely extroverted character. He finds energy and joy in the attention of others, both good and bad. It’s why he’s always seeking the approval of others and, oftentimes, will destructively insert himself into another person’s life in order to find it.
Out of every character in the story, Tommy is the most drawn to praise and positive reinforcement. He is constantly seeking out mentors and friends because Tommy needs someone else to help him feel confident in his own identity and abilities. It’s why Wilbur was such a positive influence on him. His boisterous confidence has always been a front because if anyone were to actually hurt him, he knows it will make his self-esteem crumble instantly.
This is part of why Dream’s manipulation was so effective against him. By isolating him, he’s left without energy and looking to another person’s guidance. Tommy outwardly may seem independent and rude, but just under the skin, he’s unconfident and lost when he’s by himself. Tommy will only grow from this flaw when he finds his own identity and inner confidence; when he finally learns to be okay with being alone.
“Tommy goes to the festival solely to get his disc back and then tells Tubbo to give it away immediately after. That doesn’t make any sense.”
Before the screaming match between the two friends during the second L’Manburg Festival, Tommy had been in exile, manipulated by Dream for long enough to lose his will to carry on. It is because of him that Tommy’s reality becomes distorted, long after fleeing from his abuser. This mangling of ideals leads Tommy to subconsciously believe that L’Manburg and Tubbo are unsalvageable.
Therefore, the only thing he has hopes of retrieving are his discs, which are easier to manage than the latter two things. And so Tommy does reprehensible things at the behest of Techno in a vain hope of getting them back, going so far as to kidnap and torture for them. This ultimately culminates in a confrontation between the ex-friends, quickly turning violent. It is in this violence that we see Tommy has sunk to his absolute lowest point in his journey.
Swinging his axe, he nearly kills his friend as he delivers a string of words that cause the room to silence instantly. He says the discs were always worth more than his friend. Within the quiet of the room, Tommy is forced to reflect on everything he’s done. How he kidnapped and tortured Connor. How he accidentally drowned Fundy. How he traumatized Ranboo.
And now he’s hurt Tubbo, the one person he has always sought to protect; someone he vowed to never hurt. This realization causes Tommy to break. He’s so ashamed of himself that he can’t look at anyone. Tommy knows now that he is worse than anyone he’s ever hated.
With pain in his voice, he tries and fails to apologize to Tubbo in the moment. The only way he knows to redeem himself now is to prove to Tubbo, after everything, that he can still put the discs aside. And so he does.
“The fact that Tommy is still trying to get his discs back after L’Manburg was destroyed is unreasonable and ridiculous.”
Tommy deals with grief in an interesting way, doing something very similar to Techno. His grief almost instantly becomes anger and a drive to prove himself. It morphs into a need for vengeance in response to injustice, always.
After the destruction of L’Manburg, Tommy saying he wants the discs back is a double-sided motivator. The obvious side being: Tommy still needs them to feel comfort. The subtle side beneath it: Tommy is using them as an excuse to find Dream and kill him. To make him pay for helping destroy their home, hurting his friends, and abusing him in exile.
Upon the loss of his home, I’d also argue the discs have only grown more important to Tommy in the aftermath. Typically, in grief, people hold onto things that survive devastation far more than if the tragic event never occurred. If your eldest child dies, one may hold their surviving children tighter. If your house burns down, one may deeply treasure a box of items that survived the flames. Tommy’s desperation after losing so much is entirely understandable.
On top of this, the discs are still the core to Tommy’s fatal flaw. They are what keeps him from achieving total happiness, so him getting over this intrinsic part of himself so easily would make for an unsatisfying character arc. He still has to work for his happiness in order to change for the better.
To add, I’ve seen a lot of people complaining that Tommy is still prioritizing the discs over Tubbo, especially in that moment. And while I mostly agree, there are some interactions that stand out to me as being different between the pair that may imply otherwise. Tommy says a few times that despite L’Manburg being destroyed, he still has something left to lose; each time, turning to look at Tubbo.
This subtly implies that losing Tubbo would be as devastating as losing his home. Tubbo also never voices disagreement over Tommy’s continued pursuit of the item. However, Tubbo frequently does what he thinks will make others happy, so this doesn’t implicitly mean support for Tommy either. Besides these two things, this is still Tommy’s fatal flaw shining through, continuing to hurt others around him.
I only hope Tubbo can learn to stand up for himself and voice his real thoughts to Tommy now, after everything. It would provide at least some desperately-needed closure for Tubbo’s character.
“How could Tommy betray Techno like that? Techno told him upfront what he was going to do.”
While it’s true that Techno was obvious about his plans, Tommy was also just as upfront with Techno about what he thought of it. In fact, maybe even more so, considering Techno attempted to hide them from Tommy for a good portion of their partnership. Whenever Techno brought up the idea of destroying L’Manburg or hurting Tubbo, Tommy would always remind Techno that he didn’t want to hurt anyone. And that if Techno ever did, Tommy would be there to stand in his way. He never once stopped saying this.
Tommy’s two major positive character traits have always been his undying loyalty and his strength to never give up, even in the face of death. Two classically heroic qualities, both of which, ironically, reinforce his fatal flaw. His refusal to change makes him stubborn; stubbornness being the only quality that makes unwavering loyalty and extreme persistence feasible.
Because of these two traits, it was impossible from the start for Dream to completely break Tommy’s spirit and for Techno to get him to agree to anything too extreme. Despite this, Techno already had no hope of keeping Tommy on his side after the events of the day before the Festival. During it, Tommy had asked multiple times for Techno to give his word not to hurt anyone. That they’d only threaten to spawn a wither, get Techno’s remaining weapons in exchange, then leave. That’s it.
Techno avoided directly promising Tommy but still agreed not to regardless. So when Techno chose to spawn the wither anyway, despite Tommy urging them to leave multiple times, whatever trust Tommy had with him went completely out the window. Thus, when the threat was finally real, that Techno would make due on his promise to burn his home country to the ground and slaughter his friends, Tommy intervened. It would be unreasonable to expect Tommy not to stand against him in that moment, especially after his mental breakdown which ensued as a result of him nearly killing his best friend.
Adding salt to the wound on Tommy’s end, Techno decided to also align himself with Dream, someone Techno knew Tommy was afraid of. This might have been a way to purposely hurt Tommy. More likely, it was because Dream and him shared a common goal in the moment and Techno desperately needed allies.
However, the implication of Techno siding with Tommy’s abuser most certainly hurt him, regardless of its original intentions. This is possibly why Tommy kept insisting through Doomsday that Techno betrayed him, avoiding actually telling anyone the reason as to why. If he couldn’t find the words to describe what Dream did to him, even to Tubbo, he certainly wouldn’t be able to tell Techno either.
“Techno gave Tommy everything, only to be repaid with betrayal.”
This statement regarding Tommy is the one I see most often. (It is also the one I get the most heated about.)
Dream’s character is well known for his manipulation tactics against other characters; pitting them against each other, crushing them under his heel, bending their will to conform to his own. It’s what makes him an interesting villain. It’s something fun to discuss.
But is it still fun to discuss manipulation tactics if they’re so subtle, almost no one notices them? This is the paradigm Technoblade’s character falls into. While people know Techno for his laid-back personality, dry humor, and complex motivations, many fail to recognize him as a manipulator. The reason why this is so hard to spot is because it is mostly unintentional on behalf of the character. Dream performs his craft with intention, Techno does it without realizing.
As well as this being unwitting, it is sandwiched between Techno’s actual attempts to connect with Tommy and care for him. Thus, making the manipulation feel less damaging. The only problem is, this still hurts Tommy just as much, regardless of the intentions behind it. Especially after just escaping Dream, Tommy’s reality and sense of identity are horribly distorted. In this vulnerable state, he desperately needs healing and someone to help ground him. This is what makes him even more susceptible to Techno’s influence.
And because it is much subtler, it is harder to notice, and much harder to break free from. Despite Tommy claiming to hate Techno for what he did on November 16th, he still chose to flee to his house because it was the only place he could think of going, as well as being the safest area possible. After the failed execution, Techno mentioned potentially hurting Tubbo through a vengeance plot. Tommy voiced extreme distress over this, to which Techno threatened to kick him out of his house.
Tommy then says he’s fine being homeless because he doesn’t want anything to do with someone who would hurt his friend. This is when Techno decides to weaponize Tommy’s own trauma against him. To be fair to Techno again, Tommy never told him the extent of the abuse he suffered in exile. But Techno isn’t stupid. He knows Tommy is extremely afraid of Dream, and for good reason.
So he tells Tommy that if he were kicked out, he’d be defenseless. That if he were out there all alone, Dream would find him very easily. That Dream would drag him right back to Logstedshire in an instant. He notices the way Tommy reacts to this, how quickly he changes his mind about being kicked out. He continues to use this trauma repeatedly in order to keep Tommy under his roof, no matter how disagreeable he gets about Techno’s plans. He knows he can’t retrieve his weapons alone because he has no leverage.
Therefore, using Tommy like a wild card was a major side strategy. Techno knows it will hurt Tubbo by doing this and may make the President more willing to compromise. In addition to this, many of the strategies Techno utilizes are Narcissistic manipulation tactics, categorized by their intent to keep the victim in a position below the abuser in terms of worth. This includes Techno using the silent treatment as a punishment, something which hurts Tommy since he craves affection from others.
He also attempts to isolate Tommy by telling him he doesn’t need anyone else; that everyone abandoned him during exile (something which Dream has also said.) He tells Tommy that he’s only alive because Techno is there to defend him and supply for him, as well as constantly reminding Tommy to not let any compliments he receives get to his head. These are both meant to make Tommy depend more on Techno and doubt his own abilities. Techno also occasionally engages in subtle gaslighting, attempting to sow doubt in Tommy’s mind about his relationships with Tubbo, Quackity, Ranboo, and Fundy.
It’s also vital to keep in mind what exactly separates Dream and Techno in this regard. The most important thing being that Techno actually does care about Tommy. He trusts him and wants to earnestly help him. He knows Tommy has been traumatized and abused in some way, but he doesn’t know how to help because he’s not that great with people. It also doesn’t help that Tommy is unable to tell anyone what happened.
In the end, Techno really does want to be a shield for Tommy. Despite debating handing Tommy over to Dream, it’s more likely Techno was using this as bait for Dream to waste his favor on something useless. After all, he could always save Tommy, should he ask for him to. Techno’s warnings about Tubbo and L’Manburg also come from a place of love, as Techno was personally hurt by them and wants to protect Tommy by telling him to leave it behind. However, just because something is done out of love, doesn’t mean it’s automatically helpful or good for someone.
There’s no better example of this than in Techno’s most damaging and frequently used tactic: ‘Buy Their Love,’ a technique commonly used on children by narcissistic parents. At first glance, nothing seems wrong. Techno gives Tommy most things he asks for; providing him with food, gifts, protection, and a place to sleep. The manipulation within this arises when the act of kindness is counted as a debt against the person who receives it. That by receiving so many good things, they would be ungrateful to go against their abuser. Doesn’t matter if they emotionally or physically hurt you, they gave you gifts, so you should shut your mouth and allow the abuse to continue.
Whenever Tommy speaks out against Techno’s violent actions or his plans to hurt his friends, Techno would frequently bring up all his ‘good deeds.’ He consistently reminds Tommy that he could’ve just thrown him back to Dream, but he was too kind. That he went out of his way to give him gear, food, and a roof over his head. That he was kind so Tommy should be quiet and let Techno plot to hurt the people he loves. Or else he’s selfish and ungrateful. Or else Techno will take all of his gifts back and leave him with nothing.
Knowing this, it is horrifying seeing people justifying this behavior by mocking Tommy’s character and calling him ungrateful using this very same fallacy. (Especially for those who grew up being controlled by this very tactic.)
It is through knowing Techno’s use of the ‘Buy Their Love,’ method that makes Tommy’s, ‘I am worthy,’ response, not one of betrayal, but one of triumph. This moment is a major positive character change for Tommy for many reasons. When Tommy decides to stand against Techno, this causes him to fall back on his most reliable tactic. He insults Tommy and then asks for the Axe of Peace back. Instead of caving, Tommy refuses.
By keeping the Axe of Peace, Techno’s final gift to him, he is not only rejecting the destruction of all he loves, but he is breaking free from Techno’s manipulation. He says, ‘I am worthy,’ because now he knows his own self-worth. He doesn’t need Techno or Dream to decide it for him. This moment is Tommy finally breaking free from not just Techno, but Dream as well. He is finally free.
“Tommy was only using Techno and never thought of him as a friend.”
Tommy and Techno’s relationship is complicated, which is why pretending only one side was in the wrong isn’t entirely accurate. Their friendship, in summary, is tragic when fully examined; being doomed from the start. Techno and Tommy are brought into conflict often because they are simultaneously so similar and so different. Techno and Tommy both deal with grief in the same way. They both long for a life of peace and comfort. They each long for companionship, hold their ideals in kind, and are both naturally resilient in the face of adversity.
Yet, their personalities and courses of action are polar opposites. What makes this friendship one of tragedy is the fact that not just Techno, not just Tommy, but both of them, actually thought the other was their friend. They had each wanted to be the other’s friend since the day they’d met. Tommy never stopped wanting to impress Techno and get on his good side, even if his methods annoyed the target of his affections. Him calling Techno ‘The Blade’ was never meant to dehumanize him; it was a title of adoration.
Along the same spectrum, Techno is a character who generally longs for friendship, but pretends not to after a lifetime of hurt. He’s been burned too many times, and so he chooses to stay alone. Techno is generally very reclusive and awkward around others, so when he likes someone or cares for them, it’s noticeable from a mile away. Their friendship has a very brotherly dynamic, and the fact that Techno allowed him to stay in his house, implies Tommy is a step above pretty much everyone else but Phil. Putting up with Tommy’s shenanigans is itself a sign of affection.
However, when their goals come into conflict and the two start to drift apart, they deal with this in massively different ways. With Tommy devastated and enraged, and with Techno withdrawn and hurt, once more burned by someone he slowly learned to trust. They were once both friends, neither one was pretending. Yet, both of them thought their companionship was unreciprocated.
On top of this, both Techno and Tommy were using each other. Techno used Tommy to get his weapons back by manipulating and lying to him. Tommy used Techno to protect him from Dream and get his discs back. They each hurt the other and refused to listen, both shouting valid complaints at the other that they refused to hear.
Their relationship is also deeply affected by the themes of vengeance in the current arc, which is something I haven’t seen many people talk about. Most of the current conflicts this past month have resulted from characters being unable to forgive, resorting to revenge as a way to cope with loss. L’Manburg was the first to initiate this, through the influence of Quackity. The Butcher Army was formed to punish Techno for a war crime he committed. And while this is perfectly reasonable, what isn’t is the way the incident was orchestrated. It was an unchecked abuse of power to execute someone without a fair trial, as well as punishing Phil, who was not involved whatsoever.
This was also particularly unfair to Techno, as many projected their anger at Wilbur onto him. Even Tommy did this, finding himself unable to blame his late mentor, so Techno was the next best option for him. However, it was Techno’s response to this that was interesting. He chose a path of vengeance, the same way L’Manburg did, after vowing to live his life as a pacifist. By doing this and following through, he hurt everyone, not just the people he claimed needed to pay for their actions.
Instead of just picking the weed in the garden, he set the entire flower bed on fire. Through L’Manburg’s destruction, he gets what he wants. He destroys their government, but he also scars the earth and shatters the sky. He leaves uninvolved people homeless, deeply hurting Ranboo, Eret, and especially Ghostbur. Philza turns to vengeance as well, taking his anger at the death of his son out on people who do not deserve it.
Tubbo, a day before the second Festival, was given another chance to seek revenge when Techno had spawned a wither on their land. Instead, all Tubbo could say was, ‘We do nothing … It’s pointless, vengeance. It’s poisonous.’ By doing this, he has managed to be a bigger person than even Techno was, with the strength and maturity to turn the other cheek. And now with Tommy’s plan to kill Dream, the conflict continues to escalate; only ending where forgiveness begins.
It’s sad to think, if Techno didn’t choose a path of vengeance and Tommy was strong enough to tell Techno how he really felt, the two might have remained friends. Who knows? Maybe they still can.
“Tommy was the one in the wrong. Techno was right to destroy L’Manburg.”
Techno is a lovely character. He’s well-written, engaging, funny. He has many values and quirks that are generally relatable and interesting. His motives are deeply understandable and sympathetic. And yet, he is perfectly capable of being evil, in just the same way that Tommy can be deeply flawed despite being the protagonist.
I’m sure most people already know that Technoblade is a villain. Or more accurately, a tragic antagonist. Techno (the streamer) knows he is and he’s having fun playing that part. Just because a character is morally in the wrong doesn’t mean their values and ideology don’t have merit. The best character I could compare Techno to is Thanos.
They have completely valid concerns and points, but it is the way in which they go about achieving their goals that makes them into evil people. And despite this, many will still agree with them, even after they do something reprehensible. Contrary to popular belief, Technoblade’s tendency towards violence isn’t a good thing, no matter how you look at it. Even Techno himself knows this, that’s why he decided to reform and become a pacifist with Phil. He was not a good influence on Tommy, on top of also manipulating him.
Techno caving to hatred and vengeance makes him no different to the resolve of the Butcher Army that pursued him. It is precisely the fact that he went on to destroy the home of not just Tommy, but also Ranboo and Ghostbur, that puts him in the wrong. He is allowed to despise all government and remove himself from it, but the moment he decided to insert himself into someone else’s country and take their home from them in order to destroy it, he abandoned an integral principle to his own values.
This principle being: ‘Choice.’ The act of letting others be free to decide what they want for themselves. It is a huge component to the concept of anarchy, the freedom to choose. And yet Techno robbed this from, not just the ruling powers that hurt him, but individuals who were not even involved in the first place. He justifies this by saying it’s for their own good, that he’s helping; while acting in a self-serving manner.
In his anger, he became the punisher, stooping lower than L’Manburg has ever gone. There is also the issue of Dream weaponizing Techno to destroy the one thing that has been a thorn in his side since the very start, manipulating Techno’s grief to achieve his goals. Tommy’s biggest sin in the Doomsday War was standing up to Techno and getting in the way of him hurting his friends and destroying his home.
This isn’t to say Tommy is perfect, because he still hurt everyone he ever loved. But the only way he knew to redeem himself was to fight for what he knew was right. And so he chose to fight alongside his best friend, Tubbo. However, just because Techno is in the wrong doesn’t mean others are wrong for wanting to side with him, or by finding joy in his ruthlessness. The biggest appeal of Techno is the fact that he opposes people like Tommy.
He knows how to put people in their place and it’s satisfying to watch. Some people love rooting for villains and it’s entertaining to see a being with so much power crush everyone else down so effortlessly. Especially because it’s so easy to sympathize with Technoblade. Sympathetic villains are the best kind; where they have understandable motivations, relatable flaws, people they love, and something they can lose. Dream is a villain you love to hate. Technoblade is a villain you hate to love. Simple as.
Despite the destruction of L’Manburg being either devastating or fantastic depending on who you are, there is one major good it has done. It has pushed Tommy more towards the completion of his character arc. By losing one of the three things he loves, it will be impossible for him to pretend any longer. He will be forced to confront reality very soon. It all depends on whether Tubbo will have to die first for him to finally see it.
#dream smp#character analysis#tommy innit#tommyinnit#mcyt#tubbo#technoblade#techno apologist#tommy apologist#long post#dream smp meta#dsmp tommy#dsmp tubbo#dsmp techno#tubbo dream smp#tommyinnit dream smp#technoblade dream smp#dream smp roleplay#tw gaslighting#tw manipulation#tw emotional manipulation#dreamwastaken#dsmp dream#philza#philza minecraft#dsmp philza#dream team
3K notes
·
View notes
Text
A/N: I loved doing this one guys, and I hope you love it too. Might do a part 2 not sure yet, as always commissions are still open until 3/10 message if your interested- price list is here
- Okay this is the ship guys this is it-
- This is like Hades and Persephone type of love
- Everyone thinks that Regulus is someone to be feared because of his family, and everyone knows they dabble in the dark arts
- And everyone is so caught up in his family-
- In the estate, and those dark rumors, and their dark magic-
- That no one see’s Regulus is just a boy-
- A lonely boy with no real friends, not really
- It’s worse now that Sirius has been disowned
- He’s got people around him, boys who’s parents are aquatinted with his
- But they don’t really like him
- They just hang around because they want a flicker of his power
- Of that ancient dark magic everyone’s convinced he’s got
- Everyone except you that is
- You’re this beautiful, cheerful, precious thing
- He meets you when you’re lost, looking for the bathroom
- “Sorry to bother, but do you know if it’s down the hall?” You ask, he’s seen you a few times; in class, or around the corridors
- Playing gobstones with your ever growing group of friends
- He would be jealous if he wasn’t so surprised that you’re speaking to him at all, aren’t you a muggle born?
- Shouldn’t you be afraid of him?
- Just like everyone else?
- “It’s in the next hallway, that one is moaning Myrtle’s bathroom” he says quietly
- He watches you nod enthusiastically
- Looks like you’ll be on your way now, probably for the best, he wouldn’t want his parents to know -
- “Would you mind showing me?” You ask
- And it’s awfully pushy, but somehow Regulus can’t turn down that bright smile of yours
- You talk to him so easily, like you’re not afraid of him at all
- And it irritates him a little.
- Honestly, even the professors are a little afraid of him
- Everyone is
- So why aren’t you
- “Do you-“ he stops in the middle of the corridor, and you walk a few steps forward before realizing he’s not beside you anymore
- “Do you know who I am?”
- You must not, that’s the only explanation
- When you find out you’ll go as pale as the moon, and afterward you will regale the tale for your many friends, how you barley escaped the fearsome Regulus Black, right before he was about to curse you with his dark magic.
- But you only offer a quizzical expression and a smile
- “You’re Regulus Black”
- You say it like it’s the most obvious thing in the world
- It only makes him upset, but he doesn’t know why
- In fact since the moment he met you there’s been this burning irritation lingering in the back of his mind, and he just can’t seem to pin point why
- But regardless of the reason, it seems to be boiling over right now, in an empty corridor in the middle of the night
- “Shouldn’t you be afraid? I could curse you right here if I wanted”
- But the smile on your face remains
- “Maybe, but you won’t” you muse
- He laughs
- “Why because you think I’m afraid getting expelled?”
- Honestly his parents would welcome him with a feast if he came home for attacking a muggle born
- It would be a sign he wasn’t going to become like Sirius after all
- Because that’s the worst thing a person could be according to his parents-
- A blood traitor
- But instead of quaking in your shoes you flash him a quizzical smile
- “Nah, I just don’t think you’re that kind of person” you shrug
- The words echo in his mind long after you’ve said them
- And though he’s looked at you before
- He’s only really looking at you now, the easy way your lips curl into a smile, the sparkle in your eye, the glow around you-
- Like you’re made of sunlight
- Like you breathe life into all things wherever you go
- Like an ancient witch he heard of , heralded as the goddess of spring
- Like Persephone
- Ah, so that’s it
- It’s not that he hates you
- It’s that he envies you
- Because seeing how natural it is to see you do good, makes him hope - it makes him yearn to be like that too
- To be more than an heir to his family’s dark legacy
- “I could be wrong though” you shrug, you can count on one hand how many times you’ve been right about something
- But still, you just don’t buy that the shy kid in front of you is some evil prodigy bent on destroying the world
- “No” Regulus’s voice cracks, and it’s soft, so soft you almost don’t hear it.
- But your turn to him, eyes jumping from one of the many paintings in the corridor to his pale face
- His eyes seem glossy as they look into yours, and it’s not just because of the light from the torches
- “No, I’m not that kind of person” he says with a bit more strength this time, and you grin
- And while you feel that there’s something important about the moment, you don’t realize the monumental significance this chance meeting holds for Regulus
- “Oh, we passed the washroom” he realizes after a moment, he was so caught up in talking to you he hadn’t realized
- “Ah, that’s okay I didn’t have to use the bathroom anyway” you say with a wave of your hand
- Huh?
- Noticing his expression you get a sheepish look on your face
- “Well I’ve wanted to talk to you for a while, but you’re always with people-“
- Yeah he’s sure his “friends” would give off an especially murderous aura if you ever tried to approach them
- “So when I saw an opportunity, I just took it” you admit with a slight laugh
- “I wanted to see what everyone was talking about when they mentioned the ‘Dark Prince’ “ there’s a teasing flint in your eye, and the nickname alone is enough to make him flush red
- “And what’s your assessment?” he manages to ask, a smile stretching across his face
- “Very underwhelming, I came expecting several hexes and a duel, and all I got was a cute boy with pretty eyes”
- This time he really does flush bright red, eyes trained on his shoes
- You laugh, you were mostly teasing
- But he is quite cute isn’t he?
- What’s everyone so scared of anyway? He’s like a shy kitten
- He watches you walk to a particular portrait, whispering a word before it swings open
- “Well see ya around Mr. Dark Prince” you say, sending a teasing wink his way
- Regulus is glowing red, even when he’s tucked in bed, in his common room hours after the meeting. the mere memory of the words you said send his heart racing again
- “They said I’m cute” he’ll recall with a goofy smile spreading across his face
- After that, things are brighter for Regulus
- You pull him into your group of friends, quite literally
- “I-I don’t think this is a good idea” he manages, catching the terrified glances of passerby’s as you tug him forward by his arm
- What a sight you must be, the literal personification of spring pulling the Dark Prince himself by the arm through the castle
- The aforementioned Dark Prince having a rosy tinge on his cheeks, which most of the other students misplace for Fury instead of what it actually is:
- Embarrassment with a healthy dash of attraction to aforementioned personification of spring
- “Nonsense, everyone’s dying to meet you Reg”
- When you use his nickname his flush darkens
- No ones ever called him that-
- No one except Sirius and Andromeda
- He likes the way it sounds coming from you
- And you’re right, your friends accept him into their fold immediately
- “You know any curses?” One of your friends asks, it’s in a jovial manner that anyone could tell they’re just teasing but Regulus flinches
- “No, not really” he admits, not any he’s good at anyway
- He did see his parents do something akin to a sacrifice when he was younger with an alter in the full moon, but he really wouldn’t know where to start with that
- “What about gobstones, you know the rules to that?”
- Regulus nods
- “Well lets play then!”
- Before he knows it, it’s like this was always his life
- Laughing with you in class, games of gobstones with your friends and trips to Hogsmeade on the weekend
- Regulus didn’t know that he was yearning for this
- How often had he wished for something like this,
- A place that feels like it’s full of sunshine, where everyone feels accepted, and no one has to feel sad
- This is the happiest Regulus has ever been
- But all dreams must come to an end
- The end of the semester comes around, and he has to go home for Christmas vacation
- You’re standing side by side on the train platform waiting for the train, your trunk lying next to you
- “You’re not taking anything back with you?” You ask
- Regulus shrugs
- “There’s no point, everything I need is at the manse”
- You’ve always been a bit curious about what the Black manor is like
- Probably something grand, large library’s, they probably have one of those record players with the gold horn thing
- And a ballroom
- It probably makes Hogwarts look like a pile of dirt
- But the way Regulus’ face darkens when you ask him about it tells you that- yes they probably do have a ballroom, but there’s other things too, things that are far less pleasant
- And when he starts talking about his home life, how it’s worse - lonelier- Now that Sirius is at the Potter’s all the time, and there’s no one around to stand between him and his parents
- He notices your heartbroken expression and rushes to comfort you
- “It’s not so bad, Mum’s got her tender moments every so often and-“
- “Regulus” you cut in, and the sound of his whole name leaving your mouth makes him stutter to a stop
- “You’re supposed to feel safe and loved all the time not just sometimes”
- It’s such a basic thing, but when Regulus hears this, he feels like he’s being allowed something
- He feels, for the first time, he’s allowed to be safe and happy
- He’s allowed to be good
- “Why don’t you come home with me for Christmas? It’s probably not as grand as you’re used to-“
- You fidget awkwardly, maybe it’s silly, the prince, Regulus Black, himself sitting on your worn sofa, holding yarn while one of your family member’s knits
- You can picture it though
- You can picture a big smile across his face, indulging the younger children in your extended family in their requests for piggyback rides and for him to participate in their games
- “I want to,” he says, really the fact that you’re offering is enough, more than he could ask for
- “But I can’t”
- And it’s the truth, after Sirius, he can’t make any mistakes, his family won’t stand for it
- He especially doesn’t want to think what would happen to you if they found out he had been spending all of his time with you, a muggle born
- He doesn’t want to think what curses they might inflict you with
- He doesn’t want you to ever be hurt because of him
- “You’ll write to me?” You say it with the fervor of a demand, and it makes a smile curl onto his mouth
- “Everyday” he promises
- And things are exactly as they always were at 12 Grimmauld Place, his mother is distant, only livening up when one of the other ladies shows up for tea
- His father is squirreled away in council meetings
- His cousins are no fun, not really, and Andromeda’s not around anymore since she ran off with Ted
- He likes Ted, though he would never admit it to his family
- Ted is a lot like you, someone with an infinite amount of kindness
- He wonders how they’re doing
- He wonders how Sirius is doing
- He’s probably happy, he always looked happy when he was with his friends
- And so- with a picture of you discreetly kept on his desk, he writes three sets of letters
- The first is for you, to assure you he’s fine, and live vicariously through your spring, through your lovely Christmas moments and imagine himself there too.
- The second for Andromeda, to ask if she’s doing alright, and to tell her he misses her
- And the last, is for Sirius
- Asking how he is, and hoping he’s well.
- And to say that he understands what Sirius was saying all those years, in their childhood and then into adolescence, Regulus understands now-
- And he wants to be good too
#harry potter#regulus black imagine#regulus x y/n#regulus black headcanon#regulus black x reader#harry potter imagine#harry potter headcanon#marauder headcanons#marauder imagine
1K notes
·
View notes
Note
rowaelin with their first child and they get into that stranger anxiety phase and cry with everyone except when they're in their mothers arms and it's exhausting but also adorable but rowan sometimes feels like a bad dad because his kid doesn't want to be held by him so aelin has to reassure him and then some day this phase is finally over - prompt 😢🥺
ok i adored writing this one. dad rowan is so much fun to work with. i hope everyone enjoys!!
~~~
In his over 300 years, Rowan Whitethorn Galathynius had been awoken by many different things. Whether it was a call to battle while sleeping in a war tent, a summons from his queen late at night, or a lover trying unsuccessfully to disappear quietly before dawn. Yet, none of these manners of waking up had filled him with as much dread as he felt currently.
He was woken in the middle of the night by a shrill shriek coming from the room that adjoined the one he shared with Aelin. In the recent months, what had once been a leisure room had been converted to a nursery for their new baby girl.
It took three years after Aelin’s coronation before they decided to start trying to have a child. It took another year before they were successful. Rowan counted his blessings. He had seen plenty of Fae couples take decades before they finally conceived.
Eliora was four months old now, which meant four months of troubled sleep for both him and his mate.
Rowan was instantly on alert at the sound of his daughter’s cries. He knew that they were no more than a normal babe’s troubles, but his instincts made him tense anyways. He quickly sat up, looking down at his wife quickly to see if she had woken up. Luckily, she still slept, likely beyond exhausted from the mix of raising a child and ruling a kingdom. If Rowan was successful, she wouldn’t have to wake up at all.
He got out of bed and swiftly stepped into the nursery, coming before Eliora’s crib. Her tiny face was pinched up in dainty outrage, small limbs flailing as she cried. Rowan took a deep breath, sending a prayer up to the gods more out of habit than faith at this point, and picked his daughter from the crib. Hopefully, this would be the time he could get her to stop crying.
The little princess shrieked and protested whenever she was in anyone’s arms besides her mother’s. Rowan’s included.
“I’ve got you, my little light,” Rowan whispered to his daughter, cradling her tiny body to his bare chest and lowering himself onto the rocking chair they kept beside her crib. “Everything’s alright.”
Despite his soothing words, Eliora still continued to cry. It broke Rowan’s heart to hear, broke it even more to know that nothing he did could seem to calm her down.
“Please stop crying, love,” Rowan pleaded, threading his fingers through the fine, silvery-blonde hair growing on his daughter’s head. “Your mother is so tired and needs her sleep.”
Unfortunately, even begging didn’t seem to work.
Over the sounds of Eliora’s cries, he heard the door hinges creek, and the sound of bare feet scuffing over stone. Rowan glanced over, finding Aelin walking towards him. Exhaustion weighed down her beautiful face, but her eyes were still full of fondness at the sight of the two of them.
Rowan looked to her apologetically before his face crumpled in defeat. “I can’t get her to stop crying. I’m so sorry, Fireheart.”
“You have nothing to be sorry for, love,” she whispered, leaning down and pressing a kiss to his hair. “Give her to me.”
Rowan handed the squirming bundle of blankets to his wife. Aelin situated their daughter in her arms before she lowered herself on Rowan’s lap, allowing him to wrap his arms around her waist, press a kiss to her shoulder, and begin to rock them.
Quickly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away. Her face unscrewed, looking at Aelin with those wide, Ashryver eyes that she had.
Aelin began to sing a low, Terrasenian lullaby as he continued to rock the three of them. It never ceased to amaze him how good she was with their daughter, how quickly she was able to sooth her temper. He only wished that he could do the same, that Eliora would look at him the same way she looked at Aelin and not scream and scream and scream.
Rowan’s heart was full of love as he watched Eliora’s eyes begin to droop shut at the soothing rocking motion and the sound of her mother’s voice. It wasn’t long before she was once again asleep, the night perfectly silent.
Rowan helped Aelin stand, keeping a hand against her back as she brought their daughter back to her crib and laid her down. Perfect. She truly was perfect.
A gentle hand on his arm drew his attention away from the slumbering babe. Aelin nodded her head towards their room and Rowan dutifully followed, shutting the door quietly behind them.
“I’m sorry, Fireheart,” Rowan said again, drawing Aelin into his arms and kissing her forehead. “I know you’re exhausted.”
“No more so than you.”
Rowan could only sigh, pressing his lips together tightly. His emotions were troubled, and he should have known that Aelin was going to notice. She leaned back slightly, peering up at his face.
“I know what you’re thinking, Rowan, and you’re wrong,” she said matter-of-factly.
Rowan wanted to believe her, but he couldn’t help but ask, “What am I doing wrong?”
He had faced many challenges over his years. Wars and battles and tortures. He had survived them all and came out victorious. And yet, the thing that brought him to his knees, was the fact that he couldn’t bring comfort to his own daughter when she needed it. A baby had finally defeated him.
“You know you’re not doing anything wrong,” Aelin said firmly. “The nurses said this happens sometimes. It’s not your fault.”
Rowan had heard this what felt like a thousand times. It did little to soothe his troubles.
Rowan was good at many things. He was a warrior and a general, had stepped confidently into the role of king consort. His hands could kill and heal and build, but they couldn’t get Eliora to stop crying. He couldn’t help but feel that, perhaps, being a father… wasn’t something that he was made for.
It broke his heart to think. He remembered how excited he was when they found out Aelin was finally pregnant, how they cried and kissed and clung to each other, whispering about the future. He had been ecstatic, but also terrified. He knew Aedion, who had welcomed his own son into the world a year before Aelin got pregnant, had felt the same before he was born. But, Aedion hadn’t had the troubles Rowan did. He had stepped into fatherhood gracefully, and his son loved him immensely.
“Hey,” Aelin said, a bit snappily. She put her hand on Rowan’s cheek and urged him to look at her. In those eyes was a familiar fire. “Stop that. I know what’s going through your head. You’re a wonderful father.”
Rowan sighed and hung his head, pressing Aelin’s hand more firmly against his cheek. “How can I be a good father if I have no idea what I’m doing?”
“Do you think I’m a bad mother?”
“What? Of course not.”
“Well, I don’t know what I’m doing either,” Aelin said. “Neither did Aedion or Lysandra. No new parent has any idea what they’re doing. It’s part of the job.”
She made it sound so easy. Aelin had always had a knack for that.
“I wonder if there’s some secret behind it,” Rowan mused as Aelin tucked herself back into his chest and wrapped her arms around his torso.
He felt his wife shrug. “I don’t know… but if there was, I think it would be to love them. To support them. To do everything in our power to make sure they’re happy.”
“I love Eliora more than life. There’s nothing I wouldn’t do for her.”
“I know, love.” Aelin rolled on the tips of her toes and brushed a soft kiss against Rowan’s mouth. “Now, all you need to do is have patience.”
He chuckled. “Look at you. Who would have ever guessed that Aelin Galathynius would be lecturing me on patience.”
Her grin was a slash of white in the dark. “I’ve been told I’m wise beyond my years.”
“Who the hell has ever told you that?”
“People. Now, will you come back to bed with me?”
“Of course, Fireheart.”
They climbed back under the covers, pressing their bodies close. Aelin fell back asleep almost comically quickly. Rowan wasn’t far behind, holding his wife tightly throughout the night.
…
Another month went by and little changed. Both Rowan and his wife were getting little sleep during the night, leading to some groggy mornings. He had seen Aelin taking short naps at her desk or dozing off when an advisor spoke for too long. She would, of course, deny it if Rowan ever brought it up, so he wisely stayed silent.
Eliora still abhorred being held by anyone except Aelin. The fact that it wasn’t just him brought Rowan a bit of solace. His daughter cried when held by Lysandra or Fenrys or Elide. She had a particularly nasty meltdown last time Lorcan had held her.
“I know, sweet girl,” Aelin had murmured, taking Eliora from Lorcan. “I wouldn’t want to be that close to him either.”
Still, Eliora’s reactions didn’t deter Rowan from trying to hold and soothe her, though he had not yet been victorious. Patience, Aelin had said. It was easier said than done.
The sun had set below the Staghorns hours ago. Eliora was asleep in the nursery, Aelin was treating herself to a long soak in the tub, and Rowan sat in one of the plush armchairs they kept in their room, sharpening and polishing some of his blades.
It was an easy practice to get lost in. The simple, repetitive movements were a welcome distraction. A good way to cool down before bed.
However, his hands froze when he heard a tiny whimper sound from the nursery that quickly morphed into a shrill cry. Eliora.
Rowan placed his blades down on the low table before him, pushing to his feet and quickly striding into the nursery.
Eliora was wiggling as she wailed. Rowan wished he could read her mind so he knew exactly what was bothering her and how he could help. But, all he could do was take a deep, bracing breath and scoop his daughter into his arms.
“What’s wrong, little light?” Rowan whispered, carrying her over to the rocking chair. “What is it?”
Eliora’s only response was to continue crying.
Rowan sighed, wondering how much longer he had before Aelin got out of the bath and came in to calm Eliora down. He had seen Aelin do it countless times. She would take Eliora into her arms, smile down at her, start to whisper nonsense or sing a low lullaby. She made it seem so easy.
“Everything’s alright, Eliora,” Rowan murmured, switching to the Old Language. “I’ve got you. I’ll never let anything happen to you, little love.”
And then, something amazing happened.
Slowly, Eliora’s cries began to fade away to a whimper and then, to nothing at all. Rowan held his breath, worrying that one wrong move would put her back into a fit of hysterics. His daughter slowly opened her eyes and peered up at him.
Rowan smiled down at her. “You’re just as lovely as your mother. Just as stubborn, too.”
And then, as if she understood his little joke, Eliora flashed him a gummy smile. The shift in expression floored him. She had never given him a smile before.
Rowan felt his throat tighten and his eyes begin to burn, but he smiled back at the tears welled up. A tiny laugh escaped his throat. Finally, finally, he had done it.
Eliora’s chubby arms reached up. Rowan held out a finger, letting her wrap a tiny hand around it. He always forgot just how small she was.
“I love you more than you could possibly know, Eliora.”
He was too distracted by his daughter and the little grip she had on his finger to notice that Aelin had entered the nursery until she was almost upon them. Rowan looked up at his wife, knowing that his eyes were still watery and there were likely tear tracks streaking down his cheeks. Regardless, he beamed.
“It would seem, once again, that I was right,” Aelin said with a triumphant smirk.
“As you often are, my love.”
She laughed and dropped a kiss to his forehead before draping her arms over his shoulders, leaning over and watching their daughter, who was studying them with wide eyes. Once again, Eliora smiled. Rowan would never tire of the sight.
“She looks like you when she smiles,” Aelin mused.
“You think?”
She nodded slowly, reaching out and running her knuckles along the smooth curve of Eliora’s cheek. “I still can’t believe she’s ours. She’s just so… perfect.”
“Like her mother.”
Aelin snorted. “Kiss ass.”
“Maybe a little.”
They faded into silence, simply standing there, wrapped up in their little, blossoming family. They stood there until Eliora’s eyes fluttered shut once more and she drifted off into a peaceful sleep. One she enjoyed for the entirety of the night.
Rowan didn’t know what he had done to deserve such bliss, but he knew it must have been something good.
#every time i write a baby fic im like#is it obvious that i know next to nothing about babies#rowaelin#my writing#tog
445 notes
·
View notes
Text
Kaz Brekker x alkemi Reader - Strange Truths
A/n: This was so fun to do and me being an Alkemi really was happy with this request! Thank you! I'm so sorry it took so long though!
Warnings: None? Needles?
Request: ok ok so i have an idea- a kaz brekker x alkemi reader where kaz accidentally drinks one of the reader's newest chemical (prolly cause jesper slipped it into his drink) and it makes him super flustered and vv talkative and the reader has to keep him in their lab until they can finish the antidote and kaz tells the reader he likes them right after he takes the antidote so the reader realizes he's actually serious-
I do not own six of crows or shadow and bone or you!
Most people underestimated alkemi's but once they did it once they would not do it again. Kaz Brekker knew that alkemi's could just be as dangerous as a squaller all the way to a shadow or sun summoner if they were powerful enough. To be fair, very few were that powerful but most could kill you slowly and far worse than a heartrender so...
But you were a very powerful alkmei- one of the most powerful to ever live and that was why you are part of the crows. You can fight just fine, but the dregs had seemed to be getting very creative with their ways of killing to getting information and this was all thanks to you.
Though not all appreciated your talents.
Nina has grown up thinking that the alkemi's were weak was a part of those few, Inej just didn't understand you, Jesper understood but was still trying to come to terms with his own Grisha powers, Wylan thought you were amazing and Matthias was just flat out scared.
But that all changed when one day you poisoned a whole army.
Oh, Kaz was just... Happy? No one really knew, but sometimes he just seemed a bit more satisfied about how things were going with you around. Unfortunately for you, that meant he had to spend a bit more time around you trying to come up with more ideas. And that would have been just fine if it weren't for the fact that you were falling helplessly in love with Dirtyhands.
Ya, fuck.
Lately, you had been conjuring up something new in that lab of yours in the basement of the Slat. It was almost like a truth potion but not quite, it was to make it easier to get information out of its victims but not enough to notice.
Officially it was finished and you were going to go tell Kaz but you realized today everyone was going to be at the Crow Club. Just your luck that you hated socializing.
You sigh but you quickly grab the elixir and start running to the Club. Being late to a meeting was never really your foreté.
Finding finally the Crows even with the sea of people around you spot them when you meet Kaz's eyes. Of course, you had to meet his eyes. You go and sit down beside him as everyone had already decided on their drinks.
"Y/n's getting them this time since she's late!" Jesper grins in triumph as you just roll your eyes. It doesn't matter you guessed he was almost always going to be the one late so you figured it wouldn't matter if you had done it this one time. Besides, it would give the sharpshooter (and his boyfriend) a break for once.
Getting up from your seat you walk towards the bar and ask for everyone's drinks. He hands you them and you talk to the bartender as you walk back towards the group.
"I'm your waiter for one time only, don't get used to it."
Kaz just clears his throat and starts talking about a plan that's really in reality just a decoy because of Inej's intel there would be Dime Lion spies in the Crow Club today.
And why not take that to your advantage?
Suddenly Kaz stops talking and you lift an eyebrow at him. He just shakes his head and the others just shrug their shoulders and start a different conversation.
For a bit, you do engage in conversation with the other Crows but Kaz just seemed different? Like he was trying not to burst out talking or something?
"Dirtyhands, you good?"
Instantly his face flushed a bright pink and he stutters out;
"Ya-ya fine. Totally fine, everything's good. Go back to whatever I guess. Just leave me alone and do your work you shouldn't have even asked, so can you please-" He cut himself off and flushed (what you didn't even know was possible) red even brighter.
What the- You always called Kaz Dirtyhands as more as a nickname than a mean term almost like a term of endearment. Although he didn't know that he never had even blinked when you used the little nickname more than necessary so why was he now?
Also to add to that fact, was that you really never called him Kaz. It was mostly to keep yourself in check so you didn't get used to him too much. It was more like reminding yourself that you both weren't on a first-name basis even if you already were.
Narrowing your eyes, you can see that his pupils are slightly dilated and that he's bitting down on his tongue really hard to stop himself from talking. This wasn't just Kaz Brekker flustered, there was something else going on here. And you had to figure at fast before the Dime Lion spies did, or if they already had.
"Brekker, I need to you answer me honestly okay?" You lower your voice and you soften your tone like you would with your targets to get information out of them. You didn't like doing it, but it was the price to pay for his safety.
He just bobs his head up and down trying not to say anything.
"What have you ingested today?"
"Just the drink. Not anything else, being that I forg-" He cuts himself off from his whisper-rant covering his hand over his mouth.
"You haven't eaten today!" Accidently you raise your voice and the anger and concern shine through your usual stone-cold tone.
Kaz widens his eyes and gives you a look to shut the fuck up. He was still the Bastard of The Barrel after all.
Wait, now that you think about it...
You reach into your pocket for your newly brewed elixir and when you take it out it almost confirms it for you.
The lid is open.
Oh, fuck maybe it's better not to cure Kaz because you might just die after this.
It all made sense now though; talkative, flustered, overused & exaggerated facial expressions, looseness of the tongue. Those were all symptoms and you hadn't even noticed.
Well... At least you knew it worked and it was effective. Very effective... Fucking hell Kaz really is going to kill you now.
Grabbing onto his coat sleeve (being extra careful not to touch his skin) you drag him out of the crow club away from the prying eyes of everyone and the shouts of 'what the hell!' From your friends.
Quickly you drag him to the basement of the Slat where all your potions, bombs, machines, elixirs, poisons and most importantly supplies are.
"You can sit there." You point at a chair in the back of the room that basically had a view of everything.
"You better make me an antidote or I swear to-"
You cut him off before he says something he'll regret later. "Go sit your ass down Dirtyhands and let the real Grisha do their magic."
He flushes again and walks over to the chair but not without muttering under his breath how Grisha cannot do magic. And how their abilities work and etc.
By the saints! Now you really didn't want to reverse that chemical elixir, he just sounded really cute. But who the fuck are you kidding? This is Kaz Brekker we're talking about and you just thought of him as cute.
Welp, this is getting interesting.
Quickly you mix some ingredients together trying really hard to go as swift as you can. No one could see Brekker like this it would kill his reputation.
You look down at the antidote and you curse under your breath. This was going to need a needle. Oh fuck, you might as well just die right there.
Hurrying over to your cabinet you quickly go through the vials wondering what size you would need till you found the perfect one. It wasn't very big, and because it was fabrikator made he wouldn't even feel a pinch. But at the same time, it would hold your elixir even if it was a very tiny vial.
"Brekker, your gonna have to put your arm up for me."
You don't turn around knowing that this probably could be your death right here in your lab. At least Kaz Brekker will kill you so at least that's memorable. You sigh, Kaz Brekkers Alkemi was killed by Dirtyhands himself.
"Why?" Most of the time Kaz would just raise his eyebrow at you but because of the fun chemicals that he had in his body that was not the case.
"You might want to roll up your sleeve as well." You say nervously turning around so the needle was visible.
"Because I'm going to have to use a syringe."
"Are you fucking kidding me right now?!"
You slowly walk over and you shake your head.
"Sleeves up."
Kas just grumbles while putting his sleeves up you can tell he's uncomfortable. Now looking back at it you didn't really know how many barrel rats have had needles before, and if they did it probably wasn't good.
"What's your favourite colour?"
He snaps his eyes to meet yours and that's the moment you press the needle in his skin.
As you thought before he didn't flinch but he looked like he wanted to kill you with that stare but his eyes seem to soften with your worried stance.
"It didn't hurt did it?"
Kaz just shakes his head and you sigh in relief. "There shouldn't be any after-effects but I might just check in to see just in case."
He's almost out the door when he stops just at the entrance.
"Your eyes."
You whip your head around to meet his dark eyes.
"What?"
Slowly he comes away from the door frame advancing on you and he shakily takes off a glove and presses his hand against your cheek.
"You asked me what my favourite colour was."
You have convinced yourself that at this moment you have stopped breathing. Nothing else matters but you two of you in this room. The feeling of his hand on your cheek sends butterflies everywhere in you. And you can't stop to think about how beautiful and terrifying those brown nearly black eyes are.
"Boss!" There's a shout from upstairs and he quickly pulls away putting his glove back on.
"So I'll be seeing you around Brekker?"
He rolls his eyes. "You know you can call me Kaz right?"
You laugh as you herd him through the door knowing that he has business to attend to.
"But I think you much prefer when I call you Dirtyhands."
The blush spreads across his cheeks albeit not as strong this time but at least you know it's not from one of your elixirs.
"Only you Y/n only you."
Words 1799
-thedelusionreaderbitch
Shadow and bone taglist: @kaqua @rika90 @thefandomplace @musical-theatre-obsessed-dumbass @gallysonegoodlung @navs-bhat @sumsebien @dontjudgeabookbythecover
#six of crows#Kaz Brekker x reader#kaz brekker#the crow club#the slat#shadow and bone#six of crows x reader#shadow and bone x reader#grisha#alkemi#the grishaverse#grishaverse#inej ghafa#x reader#kaz brekker x y/n#kaz brekker imagine#request#x y/n#x you#nina zenik#matthias helvar#wylan van eck#jesper fahey#nikolai lantsov#SaB#SoC
254 notes
·
View notes