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ochrearia · 3 months ago

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More RGBFverse shenanigans

I wanted to write a one-on-one with Beefer (cs!BF) and Yourself. cs!BF is one of my versions of BF, from my Fossil Fighters AU that I'm totally NOT neglecting rn. It's okay. Also Peacock (SFA!BF) is mentioned like once and he belongs to Shed!!! yeah

Caeru jumpscare.

Coming into his room to find he was not alone was the last thing Yourself had originally been expecting. But he supposed when he’d made the choice to tell his other selves they were allowed around whenever they needed, paired with their better versions of mirror-walking, there were going to be times where he came home to find obnoxious intruders. Beefer was the only one here this time, so at least it wasn’t everyone at once. YS would rather be notified ahead of time if everyone was going to show up. He didn’t mind one or two.

“Most people would, you know, send a text telling me that they’re coming to visit. I’m not prone to experiencing heart attacks when I’m surprised and find something that wasn’t here when I left.” YS snarked lightly, falling into the usual banter that would normally go on. Though when he crossed the room, he could tell something wasn’t right. “You okay?”

Beefer was curled rather pathetically around himself on YS’s bed, eyes half-lidded and sad. “Slipped away, for a little bit. Things are still… bad, with my situation. Feels like it never ends, like one day stretching out over months and months and I don’t know how to fix it.”

“It’s not your job to fix something you didn’t cause.” YS said slowly, moving to sit next to him on the bed. “Has nothing really changed? Haven’t you gotten to talk to your Pico and Cherry by now?”

“Hah. As if. Living on the run now, I have to be jumping through puddles to mirror-walk. At least any reflection works… They don’t know I’m gone. Maybe that’s for the best anyway. I don’t know how to talk to Pico right now, and Cherry… I messed up, she saw. My Alectro convinced me to vent to them and I didn’t originally mean to fall asleep after, but I did. They told her everything. I didn’t want to give her more guilt, she already has enough. I can’t talk to them.”

Making a face, YS extended his hand out and let it rest gently on the top of Beefer’s head. “Venting is good, you know. I told you not to bottle shit up. It’s not healthy. You clearly need someone to talk to but you’re not letting yourself have that. Someone that isn’t one of your dinosaurs. Vivosaurs? Is that what they’re called?”

“Yeah.” Beefer sighed, shifting slightly. “Vivosaurs. They’re better listeners than you might think. I know you can’t understand them, only Dinaurians can. But… that’s kind of why I came here. I’m pretending to be okay with being changed into something completely alien. Pretending. But I don’t really have anyone else who’d understand that. Pico is… complicated. I don’t know if I can trust him right now. So that leaves you.”

“Me, huh?” YS chuckled softly. “Well, I’ll do my best to understand then.”

“You do understand.” Beefer looked him in the eyes with an almost unnerving look. “Takes one to know one, YS. I’m not human anymore. And you never were.”

The taller one stiffened. “How…?”

“Do I know that?” The Dinaurian finished the question. “Maybe it’s a Dinaurian thing. They spend so much time disguising themselves to look human, using technology to create physical lies. Something about that makes it second nature to see through fake humans. Instinct, maybe. You look human but you’re not. You’re supernatural. Not necessarily in the same category as an alien, but still not human. Peacock is too, but he’s new to this whole fucked up family thing. You’re a better choice.”

“I… don’t follow on how I would understand your predicament the way you’re implying.”

“You’ve lost your wings, haven’t you?” Beefer asked bluntly. “I’ve seen the way the muscles on your back move sometimes. Like an old habit. Trying to move something that’s no longer there. Where I have gained, you have lost. Both changed in an instant to be something unfamiliar.”

Well that was… uncomfortable to say the least. YS hadn’t really been planning to tell any of the others about his whole fallen angel thing, and realistically he didn’t want to talk about the way he lost his wings to begin with. Secrets weren’t the greatest things to keep, especially from yourself, but it was a traumatic event and he was more than within his rights to choose not to reopen that wound. Didn’t seem like he could avoid it anymore, not with this self at least.

Beefer took his silence as a go-ahead to keep talking, though. “Maybe it’s not the same really, but… I don’t have anyone else. I really can’t justify saying I have Pico right now and Cherry doesn’t get it. Is- does it get any better? You seem to be more or less tolerating the fact you’ve lost something important to your body. You know you’re not the same anymore but you seem to handle it way better than I do, and- please tell me it gets better. I feel so fucking alien and it’s like… yeah, I literally am an alien now. God, I don’t really know how to word this. I don’t feel like myself.I feel like I’m a spectator in my own body. It’s probably dysphoria and I really didn’t think I would ever experience that, and it’s weird because sometimes I look at myself and I don’t mind. I don’t mind because I know I did this to myself, deciding to be a fucking idiot and almost get myself killed. And sometimes the features really are cool. But then I think again, and suddenly everything is so fucking suffocating. You know it still hurts?”

YS blinked, trying to process everything. “Hurts? What hurts?”

Beefer sighed, grabbing onto his shoulder and pulling up the sleeve of his Dinaurian suit. The suit was designed to camo as the skin underneath, always throwing the rest of them for a loop, and it was weird to see it peeled back like a second skin. It seemed like even the suit had its limits on what to mimic as, though, because rolling the sleeve back revealed a nasty patch of a scar in the shape of a dinosaur’s fang. He looked between YS and his arm as he continued speaking. “It wasn’t exactly painless. Kind of like a vaccine booster but 100 times worse. I didn’t have to focus on it for long because I was busy throwing up all the poison that was literally killing me, but… sometimes it still hurts. And it reminds me every time it does. Cherry offered to let me use the human disguise device, but that feels awful in my head too. Because it’s a disguise. It’s not me anymore.”

This… was a first. Yourself had tried to get the alien to open up more about how this had happened, he only really knew bits and pieces. Knowing how gruesome and traumatic it actually was, he was surprised how well he was pretending to hold it all together really.

“Please just- tell me it gets better. I know you don’t know the future, and you don’t know everything. But you’ve had extreme changes to your body too. Just tell me it gets better. Tell me that with time I’m not going to constantly flip between being numb and accepting of this and violently hating myself the next second. I don’t know what I’m doing-”

Having heard more than enough, YS shook his head and pulled Beefer in for a tight hug. “Shit, man, you have it so much worse than I thought. Sorry. I- I don’t think I know how to really help you. That’s… a first.” He paused. Of course he didn’t know how to help. He didn’t have an experience like this. Having your wings torn off was one thing, but he still at least looked like himself in every other aspect. Beefer had gone through an entire body transformation just to keep himself alive. “It… it can get better. I’ve never really gotten over losing my wings, and I don’t think lying and saying I have will do any good. Not for you. Losing a part of yourself is never not going to be tough. And you feel like you’ve lost all of yourself, not just a part. Am I correct?”

Beefer nodded into the taller’s shoulder. His arms were curling around his back, funnily enough right below where YS knew his long healed scars were. Nails were bunching up parts of his shirt, but he didn’t care.

“I can’t pretend to know what that’s like physically. But I think it can get better. This is all still very recent for you and a lot more traumatic than you’re letting yourself think about. And the way you talk about your Pico and Cherry, you’re not letting yourself have a support network either. Because, what? You think they’ll only feel more guilt? Push you away more? I’m still pissed at your Pico to be honest but that’s not really my place or relevant right now. What I’m saying is let yourself have some time. Time to process. Mourn what you’ve lost and then work on going forward.” YS sighed, worrying his lip. “The rest of us BFs are normally just… shitters, really, because that’s just how we are. But I know all of them have the capacity to care and want to care. If you really need someone to talk to I think asking any of them would be successful. And yeah, none of us are going to know fully what to say. You’re the only instance so far that is a dinosaur alien. Dunno if there’s gonna be any more but. I would say hopefully not, but maybe I should say hopefully so. At least that way you’d have someone who knows exactly what you need.”

The two fell into silence, and for a moment YS wondered if he was really at all helping. But he could feel the smaller start to melt against him, mainly out of exhaustion. He was clearly tired, holding in a lot more than he was letting on. Having been cut off from any sort of comfort when he desperately needed it.

“It’s funny.” Beefer said after a while, not moving his face away from where he buried it into the crook of YS’s arm. “You really remind me of my brother, the more that I think about it. He’d probably say the same thing.”

Never has his blood felt like it froze faster than it had done now. Yourself’s grip tightened, seemingly unnoticed by Beefer- or he just didn’t care. His jaw clenched. “Brother…?”

“Yeah.” Beefer said, finally pulling away a little. “My brother. Shit, I didn’t mention him before did I? Oh… I haven’t seen him since everything happened either. He’ll be worried sick about me I think… But yeah. I have an actual adopted older brother. Caeru, that’s what he insists on being called. You remind me of him so much. He kind of looks like you too, honestly. Just like, way cleaner and put together.”

Caeru. Does this idiot think I’m fucking stupid? Latin for blue? YS thought bitterly. Well, maybe ‘idiot’ was rude, but he wasn’t talking about Beefer. He was talking about ‘Caeru’. BFs don’t have brothers aside from Ritz in some cases. Not a single world I’ve looked into has ever mentioned having a brother named Caeru. That’s not a brother. That’s another BF, and that’s not just any other BF. That’s a fucking ME, isn’t it? Using Latin?

“You alright? You’ve gone silent.” Beefer asked. “Something wrong?”

YS startled quickly, burying his thoughts and lying once again. “No, nothing. It’s fine. Just… thinking. Look, take as much time as you need here for now. I don’t mind.” Fucking stay out of your world when another one of me is fucking running around and apparently pretending to be your brother. Jesus christ.

He’d hoped there weren’t other versions of him that aligned with him specifically. So there really was more than one universe where something happens, something so devastating they became a Yourself kind of BF, huh? And Beefer clearly didn’t know. So that one was lying more egregiously. That was dangerous. Protect Beefer. Oh, what am I saying, Beefer can handle himself. I just don’t trust another instance of me that’s like me. Guess there’s another I have to keep tabs on without alerting this one of his brother being a liar.

#RGBFverse #Im actually diabolical for putting relevant Category Six lore in this shit. Wtf is wrong with me

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justamessedupdisneyprincess · 2 years ago

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Dunno why I’m back so soon, guess my anxiety has been acting up or something. I’m surprised to see I didn’t get as much harassment posts thank god. Saw one person say bullshit that seems aimed towards me but aside from that one psycho all is good I guess.

I had a panic attack last week and ending up confessing to my older sister about everything that happened. I even told her about my fetish, which had me so scared to do I almost vomited. I was scared she was going to think I’m a freak and disown me as a sister as some people in my past did. She took it better than I thought and said it was a normal and a healthy thing. It is a part of being human. I was so grateful to learn my sister still loves me for being born this way. I am still too scared to tell my parents though as they are old fashioned and would definitely not get it. To help make me feel better she invited me over to her place to try and help me recover as my anxiety has been worse as of late. I had lots of fun! Sadly my parents fucking car got fucked up because some girl at McDonald’s messed up the hot chocolate cup and it spilled all over the controls so I had to take some meds after that scary almost car crash experience. The car seems to have somehow fixed itself the next day though? Still kinda nervous about it though.

I got quests of yore the board game! We found a game shop and she decided to play a game with me, I sort of went in blind as I know nothing about DND. We got it and played and it was fun, I got a companion which was a bear. I was struggling to come up with a name and she said Gary. We proceed to laugh a long time. We are on a quest to make lots of money to pay rent that will allow us to keep a bear. LOL

I’ve been up and down lately really, my social anxiety is way worse and I’m currently questing my sexuality and identity. I am thinking I may be agender and only into boys I’m not sure. I get bullied by lots of girls so even though I am attracted to all kinds of body types and I’m not fused by gender and have crushes on fictional girls I’m absolutely terrified of real life girls now. I was thinking I may be pansexual as well but yeah...women are SCARY dude. It’s very confusing... I wish girls like Abigail from Stardew valley were real...*sigh* in my country we get lots of what we call sheep. So if you’re not into make up and Twilight the girls in my country are immediately like “fuck you!”. Guys and non binaries aren’t like that tho. Not sure why.

And yeah, Barley and Abigail, I have a type LOL

We are trying to look for a new therapist but they’re all booked out. I have been getting lots of trauma related panic attacks but my family is helping me through it. I came here again because of anxiety of course like I said but uh....thanks to everyone who supports me. And please don’t listen to any bullshit rumours you might hear about me. People just don’t know how to fucking chill. You guys have anything better to do than to bitch and moan? Just write and draw things you love, don’t complain about people or make up nasty stories to try and gain more haters to join you. I know you’re watching me. You say I should grow up but who really is the immature one? Yes I had a bad panic attack that time. Yes I should have kept it anonymous. But I’m not evil. I just wish to be myself without seeing nasty posts. I said sorry but did you guys say sorry to me? No you didn’t. You kept going and did a lot of damage. So who is really the immature one? The one who felt bad and tried to explain why I was hurt and how we can make things better or the one who wanted to keep assuming the worst in me? Just enjoy the things you love instead of thriving in things you hate and trying to guilt trip others who like the things you hate. Stop making rumours and harassing others. Just stop. And not just me, anyone in general, I know there’s others who suffered from your wrath. Much like a dear friend of mine in December 2021 who practically saved me life. You know who I’m talking about, you hated on him for being like me. So just calm down, do you and I will do me. If you choose to hate someone over ONE mistake or one tiny trait like personal preferences than that’s just sad. Do what makes you happy, don’t go out of your way to make yourself angry by LOOKING UP the things you dislike. You do you, I will do me. Just learn to chill.

Again thanks to the people here who didn’t harass me. I really do appreciate it. I will just post and disappear again as tumblr does tend to be a DANGEROUS website. Place is practically crawling with cyber bullies. You guys should be careful too, please stay safe and if people try to attack you block them and maybe get off of tumblr. I hear shit about Twitter but I will not lie, there’s actually less cyber bullies there apparently. Deviantart is a totally safe place too. I did have some BS happen there before but the people behind the website don’t allow bullying and band people. So yeah. Thanks and stay safe everyone.

#onward #barley lightfoot #vent #sexuality #agender #gender #sexualities #quests of yore #bullying recovery #anti bullying #tw vent #coming out #self shipping #trauma ment tw #trauma

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ruminate88 · 7 days ago

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Adore You: But they only push you away ❤️‍🩹

12/16/24 When that toxic ex is bored of you

These Harry Styles lyrics are exactly how it feels when you believe you’re falling in love with your toxic ex:

“Oh, honey (ah) I'd walk through fire for you Just let me adore you Like it's the only thing I'll ever do Like it's the only thing I'll ever do”

However, despite the feelings of, “Oh, if he would just accept my love… just be himself, flaws and all….” 🥴�� Sadly it’s not like that!! See, they’ve carefully crafted a mask to wear for you. They’re showing you what they want you to see but the mask has holes. They sometimes leak and show you small details that always disrupt the peace but the longer you stay even after little previews of the truth, the more they push you away and disrespect you.

When you first meet them, everything seems to be normal. Just flirting. It’s exciting but you don’t know them and you’re just trying to “get to know them” but you find it difficult to really get a good feel of who they are. It drove me to Google my exes like craaaaazy. Turns out they have a whole separate mask on social media. Now you are trying to fit what they’re saying to you along with their social media but again, there’s holes in the mask. It’s not a perfect disguise and not everyone is a good liar. (Just saying)

At some point they give you a bit of a sad/backstory to where they’ve come from but again, they tell you what they think they need to in order to get you to believe them. Obviously they’ve come from a rough place growing up but they twist it to whomever they’re talking to. Well, at some point my recent ex has me believing he doesn’t feel good enough for his parents which is so sad to me plus he’s crying he’s unworthy of me too… he’s manipulating me but I’m not understanding it. I then feel I have to “love and adore him harder” in order to make him feel “good enough”. I mean, I’m professing my undying love to him. I’m selling myself out to him and my whole entire world and emotions are dominated by him!! 😓

Unfortunately this made him bored of me (after months of me being obsessed with him) and it made him more abusive. He can only become irritated at me because it’s too easy and my love must be fake and stupid. No one would love the monster he is and no one would be so open and real with him. I stayed even when he dumped all his stress on me and made me feel responsible for his fears and insecurities! 😨❤️‍🩹 I even gave him the opportunity to explain himself and fight for me when I caught him cheating… Surly, I must be so stupid and ignorant. I must be so blind. He’s abusing me and yet I tell him how much I love him and want the best for him… Yeah, I’m the weak one.

At the end of it all, I felt my ex not only hated my guts with a deep passion, I felt he wanted to push me away but keep me close enough in case he did need more validation or attention from me!! Even though he was bored of me and I was “too easy”, he still wanted me to praise him at the same time. Though bro found out he don’t get that from me. No, bro found out I’m willing to block his number and walk away because you don’t get to hate me AND keep me on your shelf of prizes too. I wasn’t your prize to win anyhow. He saw me as a flex while I saw him as a human with feelings. I genuinely loved bro as much or more than myself. Something he’s never understood or been able to comprehend. I’m sorry about that too ❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹❤️‍🩹

I learned overtime that some people you can only love and adore from a safe distance 🥺😟 Doesn’t mean I’m stupid or weak. He wouldn’t change even when he made me 100 promises to show up for me. Either he’s just not capable of it or doesn’t take me seriously. Doesn’t matter what his side of the story is at this point. He fumbled. He had someone who looked beyond everything trying to see good in him and give him love he don’t even deserve. No one deserves such a love not even me. Yet love can be free and beautiful if we just believe in it and appreciate it. Now I can see some of his true colors but they don’t scare me. They only make me care about his pain more but I can’t trust him for it. Of course I have to block his number. As the mask slipped and then eventually came off, there was no turning back and so…. He had to finish me off. He had to do everything in his power to destroy me and our relationship. ❤️‍🩹

He pushed me off the edge till I went dark and angry. I told him off in a voicemail. I yelled and screamed. I kicked the wall and I cried so hard. I had never been so angry or so hurt. Thanks to him, I showed the ugliest part of me. I had never treated anyone that way…. Only he could bring the worst out in me. 😣 Only he could make me hate myself and make me want to fall into the abyss. He showed me how much love can hurt.

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inthepeakymidwinter · 2 years ago

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Teach Me. (Thomas Shelby x Reader)

Summary: Y/N is a secretary dealing with the usual creepiness of being a woman in a male dominated workplace. *cough* Thomas Shelby to the rescue. *cough* TW: Drinking Word Count: 1225 (It was a Thomas fic I couldn't skimp on this obvi) A/N:(This might be one of the last stories I keep up with. I LOWKEY might have arthritis so this was the one thing I wanted to work on tonight before I die at work tomorrow and have no more energy for the rest of the week 💀 anyway ENJOY!! I still wanna write more of this because its so cute and i can tell it will get STEAMYY) Tags: @globetrotter28 @theshelbyclan

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It had been three weeks since the start of my new job as Secretary of Shelby Company LTD. I was doing what I knew how to do best. Calling clients, scheduling appointments, working with the rest of the girls in the back to help coordinate others schedules and get ready for all the big meetings the Shelby boys were in. I knew nothing about horses or gambling but that was okay, Polly told me everything I needed to know between meetings and somehow, I was able to keep up.

After spending 9 hours sorting through old mail and calling to make appointments, I was ready to end my day. I was tired of the Shelby boys coming up to my desk just to make crude remarks and then walk away. Between the “are you working hard or barely working?” comments and the weird “I’m better now that you’re here” flirtations I was ready to give up the job I needed most but the girls that worked with me just told me to tell them to “fuck off”. I was too kind to be able to do that and not feel guilt for it. The only Shelby that truly treated me like a human was Thomas. He was the middle brother and the most professional. I admired his work ethic, and how he would put pressure on the other boys to be more professional.

It was almost time for closing the shop when a man in a dark coat walked in. He had the familiar peaky blinder cap on, and I immediately sighed. It was probably Arthur, the oldest of the Shelby boys. He usually came in to take a bit of cash and go gamble at the fighting matches on the corner. I continued to file my paperwork as normal until I heard footsteps walk up to my desk and I sat straight up to look at him. It wasn’t Arthur like I thought it was. In fact, it turned out to be Thomas. He took off his cap to reveal his dark hair and short sides, a typical cut for the peaky blinders. “Do you have any clue where the rest of the papers are for my newest horse?” He asked me in a frustrated tone. I thought to myself about where I put his papers and then the location finally dawned on me. “They’re…uh- in your desk sir… I put them in the middle drawer on the right” I stuttered. He saw right through me and his eyes glimmered. He thanked me quickly and started to walk away, but it looked as if something bothered him deeply. I saw him stop in his tracks and turn towards me once more.

“Y/N…Come to my office when your done” He requested. I gave him a gentle nod but on the inside my heart had just leapt out of my chest at his request. After my anxiety spiraled for a few moments, I finally got the courage to go up to his office. One half of me was convinced I was going to be fired but the other half of me said I needed to pull myself up by the weak straps on my black mary janes and storm into his office unafraid.

When I finally brought myself into his office, I was surprised by the view of two glasses of some brownish alcohol sitting neatly at his desk. “Y/N, please… make yourself comfortable” Mr. Shelby stood up from his black leather office chair and gestured to the seat in front of his desk. I held my breath and walked over to the chair in front of his desk. I pulled at the edges of my skirt before neatly sitting down and crossing my legs. I watched Mr. Shelby begin to sip his drink before sitting down after me. “So what’s this I hear about Arthur stealing from the safe?” He raised his right eyebrow and looked at me for answers with his oceanic blue eyes. I sunk in my seat and frustratingly brushed my forehead. “Mr. Shelby, I don’t want to get in your private busine-“ “Y/N if there’s something you know…It’s best that you tell me” He raised his voice at first but calmed down the second I looked up at him.

“Mr. Shelby…I don’t want to tell you because he makes…advancements...and I really don’t want to get on his bad side” I sighed deeply and looked down at the floor.

“Advancements?” Thomas asked with both eyebrows up this time. “Uh-…Unwanted…romantic advancements” I murmured. He chuckled for a moment and drank from his glass once more. “Y/N, that’s just Arthur. Actually, that’s probably half of the Shelby boys. Tell you what…I’ll tell him off if you just tell me what’s going on, eh? Deal?” Thomas bargained.

I gave him a sheepish nod and spoke up, “I see him every Friday…leaving from the safe and when I walk home at night…I see him at the fights around the corner.” Thomas nodded and took a deep breath. “Thank you, Y/N,” He thanked and reached for the second glass of alcohol. “Drink with me, yeah?” He asked. I took the glass in my hands and asked him what it was. He paused for a moment to look in my eyes and he realized that I was asking him a genuine question and not joking. “It’s whiskey” He smiled. “There’s a lot you don’t know, eh?” Thomas asked me as I put the drink up to my lips.

“Only some” I spoke and decided to take a big swig of the liquid. Almost immediately it felt like I was on fire, and I started choking on the bitterness of the drink. “Easy, Y/N” Thomas raced over and got me a glass of water from his beverage cart on the left side of the room. He handed it to me, and I grabbed it like it was my last drink on earth. I coughed one last time and placed the drinks on his desk.

“Mr. Shelby…I do know some things…I know a lot about being a secretary…and I also know that I won’t be drinking again” I chuckled. He smiled softly at me and ran his hands through his hair. “Y/N how old are you? I don’t think you told me when we hired you” Mr. Shelby questioned and sat back down at his chair. I began to comfortably shift in my chair and looked at Mr. Shelby. His eyes met mine and my face flushed. He was similar to me in that he dressed quite professionally every time I saw him around the office. His coat always matched the color of his suits and there was never a day that went by where he didn’t say goodbye to me. “I’m 22, Mr. Shelby” I answered him.

“Well…you have a lot to learn, Y/N” He spoke low and took another drink.

“and I would say…You have a lot to teach Mr. Shelby” I flirted. I don’t know what got into me with that drink, but it was exuding a certain confidence in me that I had never felt before. Thomas smirked at my reply and drank once more. “So I’ll teach you then” His smile matched mine and I felt my cheeks heat up. I could tell this was not going to end well for the both of us.

#thomas shelby x reader #thomas shelby x y/n #thomas shelby fluff #peaky blinder fanfic #peaky blinders x y/n #peaky blinders x reader #thomas shelby imagine #peaky blinder imagine

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alycosworld · 3 years ago

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Tainted

Scaramouche X Reader

WARNING: mentions of (nearly) sexual assault

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A/N: I seem to have more angst/comfort ideas for genshin but I'm not sure why...also, I'm on holiday in a foreign country! I have no work and I'll probably spend all my nights on Tumblr after exploring the city in the day, so please please please send in some requests! I'm bored and although they might take some time, they might help me get back into writing more regularly. I'm pretty sure this is gender neutral but if I made a mistake, feel free to tell me. This has NOT been checked for any errors (I'll get around to it at some point).

I'm not sure if Scaramouche is ooc, since he doesn't say anything that nice in the game or in any official works, but I definitely think he has the capacity for it. And I like soft Scar <3.

If at any point you feel uncomfortable, PLEASE DO NOT READ ON. I felt a little icky after writing the assault bit so do not force yourself to read any further or read at all. I do not want to make anyone reading this unhappy. Any victims of sexual assault or harassment, I hope you heal

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Keep walking. Just keep walking. Get home as fast as possible.

Avoid dark spots, avoid all people, avoid secluded areas. Just get home now.

That's what you told yourself after it happened. Archons, you didn't even know how you should feel. Ashamed? Angry? Disgusted? Upset? Confused? Afraid? The amalgamation of these emotions just made everything worse. You felt sick to your stomach. You wanted to cry and scream and vomit and disappear all at the same time.

You felt like you were covered in grime and you don't even know how you managed to get away. You should've done something, anything! But in the moment, you couldn't.

Your day had started normally. You went to the Adventurer's Guild in Inazuma, doing your commissions and taking up a few extra quests to help people out. Even though you were walking home later than normal, you didn't think much of it. Until somehow, you lost your way. In the dark, things became a little more vague and confusing, so you ended up taking a left and ending up in a dark alleyway between two dimly lit buildings.

You walked through, lost in your own thoughts, until you heard some chuckling and some incoherent remarks made by someone exiting one of the buildings out a back door and into the alleyway.

Glancing up, you saw that the person was a man - quite tall and well built with flushed cheeks: he was clearly not sober. You paid him no mind, staring at the ground as you continue to walk, determined to get home to see your boyfriend, Scaramouche. Though he wasn't one to worry, knowing that you could handle yourself, you did want to see him as soon as possible.

"Well, what do we have here?" The man asked, and you looked up at him again, tilting your head in confusion but staying silent.

"What's a pretty thing like you doing out here all alone?" He asked, a suspicious smirk on his face.

"I'm going home." You said firmly, not wanting to give him any ideas.

"Oh? A handsome young thing like you, going home all by themselves? Let me walk you, I promise I don't bite." He continued, clearly not getting the hint.

"I'm alright, but thank you for the off--"

"Stop being such a fucking tease! Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it." He pinned you against the wall despite your attempt to politely refuse any moves he tried to make. He caught your arms above your head and harshly shoved one of his legs between yours.

"Don't like to me, hon, you know you want this." He whispered huskily. You had fought countless hilichurls, abyss mages and monsters far more intimidating and dangerous than that man that day, but you couldn't seem to move. All you could manage was a fearful 'please, don't do this'. Struggling was futile, for some reason you couldn't escape his grasp. You had fought beasts ten times this man's size but violating you like this? It made you break.

He gripped you harshly and even managed to kiss your neck a couple times, making the tears stream down your face uncontrollably, until he heard some voices. You recognised them immediately: members of the Adventurer's Guild. He must be known it too because he stopped as soon as he heard, offering you a sickening grin and scuttling away before you could react.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

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You didn't get any help from the Adventurer's Guild members who you heard, instead opting to rush home as soon as possible, trying to figure out what to do next.

The only solution in your mind was to crawl into your lover's arms and tell him what had happened. You didn't want anyone else to know - you know you could trust Scaramouche and you knew he would help you.

But he didn't.

You got home and wiped your tears before entering the house, hoping to look somewhat presentable despite having experienced such an impactful event. You dropped your belongings carelessly, not flinging at the loud sound they made as they hit the floor. You immediately made your way to the guest room Scaramouche had turned into an office of sorts, for him to work on Fatui business. The bedroom door was open and empty and he was nowhere to be found on the first floor, so that was the only other place he could've been. You were relieved to see him sitting at the desk, deep in thought with some maps and other sheets of paper laid out in front of him.

"Scar, I--"

"Not now, (Y/N), I'm busy." He said hot even bothering to look up at your frazzled and shattered state.

"I know but, please, Scar. While I was--"

"If you know that I'm busy, why enter in the first place? I'm working. Leave me alone." He said harshly. You didn't say anything, instead opting to nod silently and close the door. Since this was the first time you had experienced this pain and discomfort from being touched and defiled in such a way, you decided that maybe you should put it aside. After all, maybe it was something so jarring. Maybe it didn't matter. Maybe Scaramouche's nonchalance was justified. In a twisted way, you blamed yourself for overreacting and decided to just forget about the incident. If it didn't mean enough for Scaramouche to even look at you, it clearly wasn't something worth fretting over. You were just exaggerating, right?

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You tried you absolute hardest not to let the incident bother you, but you unknowingly started changing your habits to prevent what had occurred from happening to you again.

"Wearing an outfit like that, you're begging for it..."

You started wearing less revealing clothing, going as far as wearing gloves at some point and covering your neck with collars and scarves through the hot weather.

"We'll finish this some other time, sweetheart. I promise."

Initially, you just avoided dark or secluded places, even when you were with other people, but eventually, you were too scared to leave home at all. You didn't leave the confines of your small garden and if someone passed by, you would quickly hide yourself away. When Scaramouche had unknown guests and colleagues over, you would hide in your bedroom and make him promise not to mention you or acknowledge your existence in the slightest.

You even started taking longer showers and refused to bathe with Scaramouche, confusing him since you used to enjoy it so much. But you wouldn't let him see you in such a vulnerable state now that you were contaminated. You didn't want him to know that you had been tarnished in such a vulgar way, and you spent long moments scrubbing at the parts the stranger had touched. You were worried that Scaramouche would blame you for being assaulted - because in a sick way you thought it was your fault, despite having been nothing wrong. You had twisted the story in your mind to make it seem like you were responsible for the crime committed against you.

Eventually, Childe had to visit for business purposes, but you had become good friends with the eleventh Fatui Harbinger since he was friends with-- well, he and Scaramouche had a relationship, to say the least.

"So where's (Y/N)? Normally they're all over you and making you as embarrassed at possible." Childs grinned, and Scaramouche just frowned and narrowed his eyes.

"They're in our room. They don't really want to see anyone right now." Scaramouche said. Even though you told him not to mention you anymore, since you were so hellbent on avoiding all human interaction, he thought it would be okay to tell Childe. He was your friend too, after all.

"Is something wrong? What happened?" Childe asked, concern in his eyes.

"I don't know. They've been avoiding everyone, including me. They barely talk to me and insist on sleeping downstairs." Scaramouche confessed.

"Let me talk to them."

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Childe exited your room after hearing what to had to say, and he was disturbed and sympathetic, at the very least. Scaramouche saw his wide-eyed, grim expression when he exited the room and immediately had questions.

"What?" Scaramouche asked.

"I'll come back tomorrow to continue our work." Childs said, referring to the business he originally came for.

"But we have to--"

"Scar?" Scaramouche stopped all his trains of thought and turned to the sound of your voice. It was hoarse but still as beautiful as ever. He knew you had been crying from your puffy eyes and tear-stained cheeks.

"I think you have other matters to take care of." Childe winked, before giving Scaramouche an informal two-fingered salute and showing himself out.

As soon as the door closed, Scaramouche turned his attention to you, not coming too close in case you didn't want to be near him.

"Yes, Love?" He asked, more concerned than you had ever seen him.

"Can I talk to you? If you're busy, that's okay, it's not that impor--"

"I'm not busy." He shook his head, and you offered him a sad and grateful smile before sitting on the edge of the bed while he took a seat on a nearby chair.

"So, uhm, a couple of days ago I was walking home and I kind of got lost...so I tried taking this alleyway and--" You stopped yourself, meeting Scaramouche's attentive gaze before continuing.

"There was a guy. And he-- he t-touched me. I-- I didn't know what to do. I could've easily fought back but I just got scared and froze up because that's never happened to me before and he kept saying that I wanted him-- but I didn't! I swear, I didn't. I know it sounds bad since I didn't stop him but I really tried, I just couldn't. And he started k-kissing me...here," You gestured to the spots on your neck that you could still feel being violated.

"And I felt so horrible and he didn't go any further because some people were coming, so I ran home. I-I...I didn't know what to do but I felt like I should tell you because I thought you would help me, but you said you were busy so I just-- It-tried to brush it off but I just couldn't get it out of my head! And before I got away, he told me that he'd come back and finish me off and so I didn't want to go outside anymore in case I ran into him. And I started to cover up since he said I was asking for it because of what I was wearing and then I just got scared and I felt dirty. I tried so hard to forget and clean myself but it kept coming back-- I can still feel him on me! I hated it, I still hated it! You have to believe me, I wasn't trying to get him to notice me, I just..." You broke down after finishing what you had to say. You had already been crying since you told Childe, but now you were choking out sobs and your face was drenched. Scaramouche stood up from his chair and sat next to you on the bed, a safe distance away just in case you still weren't comfortable with being touched.

"I believe you. I know you're not like that." Scarsmocuhe started calmly. In all honesty, he wanted to interrupt you as soon as you said that this man approached you. His blood was boiling and he was ready to murder this man for you but kept himself in check because you didn't need senseless violence or revenge right now, you needed comfort. What hurt him the most was that you were blaming yourself because he didn't bother listening to what you had to say on what was probably the worst day of your life.

"It's not your fault you were touched like that. You are not to blame, at all. I-- I should've listened to you when you came to me - as soon as I turned you say I thought something was wrong but I didn't bother asking about it. That's entirely my fault." He admitted, which surprised you. It took Scaramouche a lot to admit his mistakes, but for you? He didn't care. You constantly put up with his sour attitude, he can definitely listen to you and admit he was wrong.

"You sure? Because I still--"

"I'm sure." He said simply.

"But why did you start avoiding me?" He asked, wanting to understand the situation entirely.

"Well, because..." You started, unsure if he would get angry if you told him. While you were contemplating, he offered you an encouraging expression. It wasn't a smile, but it was more than enough to put you at ease.

"I didn't want you to think I was tainted. Of course, you wouldn't want to be near me after that had happened." You sighed, wiping up the last of your tears.

"You really are an idiot, you know?" He said, but after seeing the clueless and almost hurt look on your face, he immediately wanted to take it back. He didn't mean to be insensitive, he just...well, he often explained positive emotions with his very wide negative vocabulary.

"No, I didn't-- uhm..." He mentally cursed himself for not knowing what to say, but you didn't interrupt him and made a small gesture for him to keep going.

"What I mean to say was, I don't think that you're tainted or anything like that. And I still...want to be...near you-- eugh!" He pretended to be grossed out at his own words in true Scaramouche fashion, but he knew you knew he didn't really mean it and was beyond delighted when he saw you giggle at his facial expression.

He sighed and acted angry as he opened his arms ever so slightly. You noticed the movement and quirked an eyebrow when he hesitated.

"Is it okay if I come closer?" Scaramouche asked, unsure if you wanted to be touched after the incident.

Your heart swelled at his care and then you slowly watched as he stiffly wrapped his arms around you comfortingly. Although you had hugged and cuddled on countless occasions, he still wouldn't stop being so robotic unless you did something. It made you laugh and he pulled away slightly to glare at you, so you decided to just pull him back in and hug back.

And when you relished in the touch of another human being, the touch of the person you love, you began to cry. The last time anyone willingly touched you was in that alleyway, and so to have someone be so gentle with you and have no bad intentions, you were overwhelmed with emotion.

Scaramouche must've felt your tears staining his clothing and skin, and quickly pulled away with poorly hidden concern in his eyes.

"Are you okay?" He asked, but you just continued to sob and nod.

"I love you!" You choked out. He sighed and gently patted your back.

"I...love you too." He said, before making another expression of mock disgust. He slowly moved to hold both your wrists in his hand and kiss down to your neck, pulling you into his lap with your legs straddling one of his.

You soon realised that he was covering up the placed the stranger had touched you with his own ministrations, effectively replacing the grime you felt you gained after the incident. After you came to that conclusion and Scaramouche was done, he didn't meet your eye, blushing profusely. It was justified since he didn't usually initiate any kind of affection acts, but you just cupped his jaw and kissed his cheek, smiiling at him with purity and a newfound confidence in the both of you.

"Thank you, Scar."

#genshin x reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin impact #genshin imagines #scaramouche #genshin scaramouche #scaramouche x reader #genshin impact fatui #fatui x reader #fatui #scaramouche x y/n #scaramouche x you #angst #angst with a happy ending #comfort #scaramouche imagines #scaramouche oneshots #gender neutral reader #x reader

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vividaway · 2 years ago

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I'm gonna be the odd person out and say it: I really like Felix as a character. I think he’s one of the only characters in the show to have a proper introduction that wasn’t pushed out in a single episode. Everything we learn about Felix, to me, feels genuine and realistic to meeting a manipulative person. I also think that's why Felix is hated as much as he is: because you’re not SUPPOSED to like him. Felix as a character is very very dynamic. He lies and he cheats and he does it all with a straight face. He continuously hurts people around him no matter his intentions. and yet, there’s a piece of him that still holds his morals. We saw a glimpse of it in Strike Back, and again in Emotion. He comes off as a very smart kid, and the writers have hoisted him up to be very ahead of everyone else. Everything he does is done with an intention in mind and it’s something his mother is aware of. They both helped introduce the rings, and the storyline of senti-monsters existing as living human children was made canonical THROUGH him.

There's still so much we don't know about Felix and his family, though. We know Amelie is an aristocrat, but through whom? Felix’s father, Colt, was an American billionaire and yet they all lived in London? How come? Both when and why were the Vanily twin rings created, and what’s the significance to THEM? (We have a general understanding of what they’re used for....but what do Amelie and Felix want it so badly?)

A lot of people are discounting a lot of what Felix said in emotion, too, but I personally think it’s very telling. Consider this: Gabriel Agreste has an ‘unconditional love’ for his wife (I see u Gabe, that is NOT love!) and watched her slowly die. Most days are spent isolating himself from everybody but his work staff. Soon, even they started to turn against him. He tried to do everything he could to protect his son, even to the point of abusing him because he was so blindsided by not just his wife’s ailment, but through a true commitment to the “rich and luxurious lifestyle” we see displayed in Emotion. There’s a reputation, AND an expectation that comes with it, and he TRULY believe’s it’s “the right thing” when in actuality, it isn’t. Gabriel has not just become numb to the reality of “being a normal person” but he’s more focused on bringing his wife back to him, and fixing his family. And even after all that? He’s still dying. He knows what he’s going to subject his son to. What he’s asking of Nathalie. He TRULY lost everything to get the miraculous he has. But Felix? Why would Felix say he’s lost everything? We know he lost his father, and we know he’s lost his morals, but a big piece of me is screaming that this is NOT what he meant. So what DID he mean? We know the connection of the Senti-Monsters and his desire to free them. We’re starting to understand that, in his own way, he’s ATTEMPTING to free Adrien and Kagami in the process. But what else could there be? My point in all of this is to say, there are SO MANY QUESTIONS LEFT UNANSWERED. So many that FEEL valuable to the plot of the show. The more we see of Felix, the more I reckon back to Timetagger episode where Gabriel found out he wasn’t going to be HawkMoth anymore. SO many people thought Lila, and even criticized how bad it would be because she was introduced too fast and set up so poorly.........so why NOT Felix?

He was introduced as an antagonist who wants, not to fulfill his own emotional needs (I.E, Chloe and Lila) but sheerly to get Ladybug and Chat Noir’s miraculous. The lines “I’m after a few jewels myself” could have easily been a red herring and wasn’t mentioning the rings at ALL, especially with the way Felix gave the rings back at the end of said episode. As mentioned previously, Felix’s desire to free Adrien would make sense as to why Felix would take on the role as HawkMoth. Felix wants to make his own wish, and he’s got nothing left to lose. Pairs nicely with Nathalie, doesn’t it?

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absolutepokemontrash · 3 years ago

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Kid!MC/Teen!MC Needs someone to go to Parent Teacher Interviews for Them and Guess Who’s Available?

Masterlist

The brothers being bad babysitters/dad figures is something I love very much, I bet you all could already tell that considering the Fic/Headcanon series I have going on. I would just like you all to know that Asmo’s section is based on a true story. Anyhoo~ onto the Headcanons!

Why? Why Him? (Lucifer)

Is MC really dumb, or are they just a kid? No one knows.

Obviously MC asked Lucifer, the only competent one in the house, the most professional, hard-working, controlled-

MC got their things together and gave Lucifer the run down on their teacher(s) before Lucifer got too absorbed in extolling his own virtues in an intense internal monologue.

News flash Lucifer, this isn’t a Shakespeare play, you can’t have a dramatic monologue or soliloquy about how great you think you are

At the actual meeting, if MC is in there, no, MC is not actually in there. Lucifer will speak to the teacher as if MC isn’t there. As someone whose not a spoonful of sugar helps the medicine go down kind of person, Lucifer expects the teacher to behave the same and not spare MC’s feelings.

Feelings do not deserve to be spared if MC is being a nuisance. No fake-kid/little sibling of his gets to be the class idiot!

If MC’s doing very well academically, he expects to be pointed at projects or tests they’ve done and the grade on it. It really makes him proud to see MC doing well.

Even if they’re not the best academically, if they’re not failing and they’re doing well in other aspects of school, he’s proud.

If MC really struggles in a school environment and just hates it there but they’re still keeping their head above water, they get a head pat of approval.

On the drive home, if MC came with him to the parent teacher interviews and everything went well, he just happens to turn onto the street that has a Baskin Robin’s or something of that caliber.

If they didn’t go, he picks something up on the way back.

No fun treats if MC is being a disruptive little heathen in class, no kid under Lucifer’s care is going to be the class Mammon. Not on his watch.

MC was busily stuffed their face with the treats that were gifted to them. Lucifer had to hold himself back from rolling his eyes at the kid’s blatant disregard for basic table manners when it came to sweets.

“Is everything the teacher said true?” Lucifer asked, MC looked up at him with a smile.

“Yep!”

“Good, good.” Lucifer held out his hand and patted them on the head. “You’re doing well. Keep it up.”

“Geez,” MC mumbled as they continued to stuff their face. “Can you get anymore affectionate?”

“Don’t be sarcastic, MC. It’s uncouth.” Lucifer said sternly. “Besides, I’ll have you know that many people enjoy my headpats. I’m quite affectionate.”

“Really now? Name one person.”

Lucifer opened his mouth to respond, but no words came out. He and MC stared each other down, one pair of eyes much more nervous than the other. Spoiler, MC was still calmly eating their treat as they maintained eye contact.

“…Cerberus.”

“If you’re reaching for Cerberus, you’ve already lost.”

…his pride was under attack. Right in front of his desert…

“You’re grounded.”

“Worth it.”

*Rides by on a Skateboard* School is for NERDS (Mammon)

Pff! Stupid human! He’s not goin’ to some lame parent teacher conference-

Wait! What’s with that face?! Ugh… fine. MC’s gone and forced his hand with those damn puppy dog eyes…

Mammon does not dress up for this event, he dresses like he would every day, maybe throw on some designer stuff to let all the parents and teachers know he’s hot shit.

If MC goes with him, he pulls up in his beloved car and takes up two parking spaces (pure evil.). Every parent present already hates him, but at least the other kids there are impressed with MC’s sweet ride. MC would have gained some street cred if Mammon hadn’t managed to trip up the stairs to the classroom in front of everyone.

He’ll act way to casual with the teacher, turning the parent chair backwards and sitting down so he can lean on the seat.

Mammon gets bored crazy quickly while the teacher lists and explains all the stuff the class is learning, so his eyes begin to wander to any and all displays in the classroom. Projects, annoying posters, class pet, anything is more interesting than this teacher’s explanation.

When MC finally becomes the main topic of the interview, he’s all ears. MC’s doing great in school academically? Ha! Nerd! Maybe giving MC a playful noogie and interrupting the whole interview wasn’t a good idea, but whatever.

If MC’s failing anything, or just isn’t that gifted when it comes to grades, it’s very much a “Aw man me too” from Mammon.

This teacher is speaking with the Great Mammon, the first demon in RAD’s history to fail three semesters in a row. If this teacher thinks bad grades will phase him, they’re dead wrong.

Grades don’t mean anythin’ about smarts anyway! I mean, look at him! He’s a fuckin’ genius but he can’t get through a history test without sobbing even though he LIVED THROUGH MOST OF IT.

MC gets treats no matter what’s up in class. Though, if MC didn’t go with him, he’s likely to forget and just order something for the two of them when he gets back home.

“Goddamn teachers and their rambling!” Mammon whined, grabbing a slice of pizza from the open box on his coffee table. “You owe me, MC! Ya really do!”

“Yeah yeah yeah.” MC said, they leaned over and rolled a pizza slice into a pizza-scroll then proceeded to eat it like a veggie roll. “How do you think I feel, listening to them every day? You know how long it takes to get to the actual class material?”

“Five years?”

“Ugh! Five years if I’m lucky! I swear, I know more about my teacher’s grievances with like… five of my classmates than I do about trigonometry, and guess which one’s on the test next week?”

Mammon winced in sympathy, then remembered he was supposed to be whining and went back to it. “School’s shit and a waste of money, ya should drop out as soon as you can and help me run my new business.”

“You mean your pyramid scheme?”

“It’s not a pyramid scheme, MC! It’s legit! It’s a multi-tiered marketing-”

“It’s a pyramid scheme.”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA SOCIAL INTERACTION (Leviathan)

Everyone else must have been sick or something for MC to have asked Levi. He’d flat out refuse to go otherwise.

So, Levi couldn’t exactly go to the interview in his usual “I haven’t left my room or changed clothes in eight weeks” look. With the help of MC, he was able to find his military uniform at the back of his closet.

Asmo nearly fainted when he saw Levi in the uniform, not because “oooo, a man in uniform~”, it was because the outfit was so crumpled and wrinkled that it made it physically painful to look at. No time to iron and wash, the conference was in an hour!

Levi (and MC if they went with) rolled up to the school in a less than impressive ride, but one look at the uniform and all the other people present went “yep, time to be respectful (tm)”

For the first time in his life Levi was more intimidating than Lucifer! And he wasn’t even trying!

When the teacher starts explaining the course material, Levi spaces off in horror as he realizes he remembers literally nothing from school (AND HE’S STILL IN SCHOOL!) all that’s running through his head is “A squared + B squared = C squared” and “the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell”.

The actual interview was the least interesting part of the trip, the real stuff happened when Levi passed by some art on display in the hallway and something caught his eye-

Those colours… that hair… that adorable smile..!

IT WAS HER! LEVI’S PRECIOUS RURI-CHAN IN ALL HER GLORY!

Levi immediately started fawning over the art class fanart and by sheer coincidence, one of the kids walking through the hallway happened to notice.

The kid asked MC if their… parent and or guardian liked anime. MC responded with “obviously.” Levi then asked the kid if they drew his adorable Ruri-chan. The kid said no, and that they drew the My Hero Academia fanart a few rows down.

Levi was absolutely floored that there were two anime fans in one class, then his entire world shattered when MC explained there was more anime art inside the art room and other classrooms.

H-hang on… did that mean that… a lot of people here… liked anime..?

Levi needed a while to process. No snacks on the way home…

Levi and MC were sat in the back of their Uber, Levi, the Avatar of Envy himself, was having his entire sense of reality warped. S-so much anime fanart… in a school of all places..! What did this mean for the future of anime?!

“Levi. Stop.” MC sighed. “If this were an anime, the camera angle would be doing that thing where it’s right on the bridge of your nose and dramatic music plays in the background.”

“S-so many kids in your class like a-anime huh..?” Levi stuttered, weakly trying to smile. “Must be nice..?”

“Oh, that’s just my class. The other classes and grades have their fans too.”

“Oh… really?”

“Levi,” MC stopped looking out the window and looked at the otaku that was having a full scale silent mental breakdown. “Anime isn’t even a niche interest anymore. It’s a pretty casual thing to watch now. At least a third of my class watches- Levi?”

AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAGGGHHHHH! ANIME! A THIRD OF THE CLASS?! ANIME… HIS PRECIOUS ANIME… WAS BECOMING A NORMIE INTEREST! AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-

“Levi?” MC waved their hand in front of their spaced out demon’s face. “Leviiiii? Okay he’s dead.”

The Know it All (Satan)

Ah, a smart choice, MC. Satan would be glad to help further their education. He’ll do everything in his power to make sure that the human’s brain is fed all that sweet sweet knowledge.

Satan can’t dress himself normally, MC had to coax him into a suit jacket, but he still only wore one sleeve.

MC was coming along to the interviews whether they wanted to or not, it’s important to hear what they need to improve on from the teacher themselves after all.

The two arrived pretty early, so Satan asked MC for a tour of the school. It was pretty tame until they reached the library. Satan was horrified at the state of some of the books…

Their spines lined with duct tape… pages missing and torn… someone apparently used a taco as a book mark…

The first thing Satan does when it’s time for his interview is demand the teacher take better care of the library, even though they’re not the librarian. MC tries to explain this, but Satan is too distraught to listen to reason.

He enjoyed hearing about the course material, but he made it known if MC thinks the assignments are too easy that they need to be given more challenging work. THEIR BRAIN NEEDS TO BE STIMULATED DAMN IT.

It was up to MC to either agree with Satan and nod to the teacher, or make frantic eye contact with them to try and communicate “NO DON’T PLEASE”.

Similar to (ugh) Lucifer, as long as MC is doing their best, he’s happy for them.

…but if they are in any way in the running for valedictorian he is HELPING THEM WIN.

He decided to stop at a cafe or bookstore to let MC pick out a “congrats on surviving your pitiful school” present after the interviews.

MC gleefully perused the shelves of the bookstore, there were so many books too look at…

“I’ll buy you as many books as you’d like, MC, just,” Satan shuddered slightly. “Promise me you won’t treat them like those poor library books…”

MC put their hand over their heart. “I swear on the duct taped book spines that I will never treat a book like that.”

“Good… good…” Satan breathed a sigh of relief and went back to looking at his book about cats.

“Are you… reading a Warrior Cats book..?” MC asked tentatively.

“Yes, why?”

“Satan, put that back.”

“I Will Seduce the Teacher For the Sake of Your Grades, Don’t Worry.” (Asmodeus)

Oh MC dear! He’d be delighted to go! Just let him get ready~

Asmo may not be the best choice, but he was at least going to be the best dressed person at that conference. (And MC just had to come too so all the other parents could be jealous of how well coordinated their outfits are)

He teased MC a little by saying he was going to flirt with their teacher to make sure they passed the class, but he was just kidding! …but he made sure to ask if their teacher was cute, he needed to know!

While waiting for his turn, Asmo flirts with some of the single parents, if he doesn’t see a wedding ring, they’re fair game.

Once his time slot arrived, MC realized that Asmo is one of those “my child has done and will do nothing wrong ever” types. This may have ended up working in MC’s favour if they were a class nuisance.

If MC is doing very well in sports, clubs, grades, anything, Asmo is fawning over them and gushing to the teacher about how great, smart and adorable they are.

Asmo surprisingly does not exactly flirt with the teacher, he was just teasing MC after all. But um… if MC’s teacher just happens to be cute and young, he may turn up the charm, just a little. Enough to make the teacher giggle and make MC cover their face in embarrassment.

After the interviews Asmo will probably schedule a nice day out for the two of them, shopping, a movie, mani pedis, something fun!

The real weird stuff happens in the months after the interviews… if Asmo did lightly flirt with the teacher, MC gets quite a few questions about their guardian. Questions that ask if Asmo is single in not as many words…

Oh lord, MC’s teacher developed a crush on Asmo.

Nail painting night was supposed to be a fun occasion, but MC was hopping mad and embarrassed. Asmo didn’t seem to notice as he continued to paint the little human’s nails.

“And then I told Phenex to get lost. The nerve of that little monster, right MC?” When MC didn’t reply, Asmo looked up and tilted his head. “MC?”

MC’s angry face would have been much more threatening if they weren’t just so adorable, but it was getting the message across.

“MC..?”

“Asmo.” MC’s glare deepened. “My teacher wants to know if you’re single.”

Asmo blinked a few times, before he hit his tongue to keep from laughing. “Really now~. I knew they’d be madly in love with me-”

“WHY ARE YOU LIKE THIIIIIIIIIIIS?!”

Oh My Demon King is That a BAKE SALE?! (Beel)

Of course Beel said yes! He’d gladly go to MC’s parent teacher interview!

He even put on a nice outfit :D he ended up looking a bit like a secret serviceman guarding MC, the tiny president.

Beel stopped for McDonald’s on the way there, all the other kids were so jealous of MC when they stepped out of the car eating fries.

But a little something something caught Beel’s eye when he and MC walked into the school… was that a… bake sale?

MC quickly explained that the bake sale was fundraiser for their class trip that year and the snacks weren’t complimentary. He had to pay.

And pay Beel did. He cleared out the entire table. MC’s grade’s overnight trip was going to be decadent as hell. That was no longer a crowd funded thing, that trip was privately funded by a tall buff ginger secret service member and this tiny in comparison child.

Kids are incredibly blunt, just like Beel, so when a random kindergarten kid wandered over, looked up at Beel, and very knowingly said “you’re very tall”. Beel was like “yeah”. The kid then said “what’s it like being that tall?”

Beel’s response to this kid’s question was to pick them up and hold them for a few seconds before placing them back down. For just a few moments this kid knew what it like to be over 6’4. Of course, more kids swarmed in and asked to be picked up.

Sure it was cute, but Beel now has an army of kids ranging from kindergarteners to third graders.

Finally, the conference actually began. Beel snacked the entire time and dutifully listened to everything the teacher had to say.

After the interviews are over, he checks with MC to make sure everything the teacher said was true and that they weren’t lying. If all was well, the two made their exit.

They stopped at Wendy’s on the way home.

“I’m so full…” MC groaned, Beel held up a massive cookie.

“So I can eat this?”

“No. Gimme that.” MC took a very defeated bite out of it. “My stomach says no but my mouth says yes…”

“I don’t want you to get a stomachache, MC,” Beel said worriedly. “No more snacks.”

“It’s a little late for that. It’s past nine and I’m still eating, there’s no way I’m getting to sleep at a reasonable hour.”

“Oh…” Beel mumbled. “I may have not completely thought this through.”

“*Snore* Huh? Wha? MC’s Grades? Uh… Fuck…” (Belphie)

MC must be failing a class or something because why on earth would they pick Belphie otherwise.

They ask him to go while he’s delirious from just waking up from a nap, he sort of half nods and mumbles some gibberish before going back to sleep.

MC had to basically carry his ass to the school. Belphie drooled all over them in the waiting room, and when it was their time to go into the interview, Belphie had to be manually put into the chair and slapped awake.

He barely listens, he just sits and nods along with whatever the teacher is saying. The teacher could say MC brought an alligator to school and he’d just go “uh huh…” “mmmph… yep…” “really now?” then yawn.

The only thing that could possibly get Belphie to be interested is if MC is studying space. If they are, than boy howdy is Belphie suddenly interested in their education.

Other than that? *snore*

If MC is in fact failing or doing poorly, MC’s teacher asks to see another one of MC’s guardians at a later date. Their plan failed miserably.

MC drags Belphie out of the school and yells at him for not helping them. Belphie, still sleep delirious, tries to press the snooze button. MC does not have a snooze button.

“Belphie!” MC shouted, shaking the Avatar of Sloth awake. The House of Lamentation’s resident bastard was somehow sleeping standing up outside. “HOW COULD YOU?!”

“Eh?” Belphie half-snorted and looked around confused. “What’d I do? Where are we?”

“At my school! You said that you’d go to my parent teacher interviews!”

“…MC I don’t think I’d pass well for you.”

“YOU WERE SUPPOSED TO GO AS MY GUARDIAN!”

“Sheesh,” Belphie murmured while he rubbed the remaining sleep from his eyes. “You humans are so noisy.”

MC looked up at their dearest demon friend, and gave him their best glare. “I’m going to take all your fancy temperature changing pillows and switch them with normal pillows you traitorous bastard.”

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americancowgirl19 · 4 years ago

Text

Nobody to Somebody

Summary: You started in Riley’s newborn army and now you’re moving up to Volterra, Italy.

Warnings: violence, hints of possessiveness, fluff,

Reader: Female Reader

Pairings: Felix, Demetri, Jane, Alec Volturi x Female Reader

Word Count: 3,114

A/n: Might make more parts to this, idk. Also, I know that Alec and Jane are supposed to be really young but I imagine them as older teenagers. Also, Alec and Jane are not mates. The guard are not mated together they just share you, the reader, as a mate. So, no incest.

Masterlist

You were a nobody. Honestly, you had nothing to do with the drama of the supernatural world yet you were still pulled into it. You were innocently driving through Seattle to Mount Vermont when you were killed.

Riley had dragged you out of the motel parking lot and bit you in the neck. The pain is indescribable. You screamed so loud yet nobody came to your aid. When the torment stopped a different pain started. A hunger that could only be satisfied with the blood of humans.

You turned into a completely different person within a span of a couple hours. You were stronger, faster, and deadlier. You were put into a group of others like you. It was a constant battle for survival. Everyone fought for their food. Everyone fought to be higher on the pecking order. Everyone fought you.

You were at the top, just below Riley. You weren’t in charge of anything but you certainly were the strongest. Those with the balls to go up against you found themselves dismembered before they could touch a hair on your head.

You were one of the few that were gifted. You had the ability to control people. You couldn’t control their thoughts. No, you controlled their bodies. You could force anybody to do anything and they couldn’t fight against it. At least you haven’t found someone who could fight against it.

You could make them rip off their own arms, bite off their own tongue, set themselves on fire and burn to death. You could force two or more of them to fight themselves if you so pleased. Your ability to control made you valuable. Riley did everything in his power to keep you.

You loved the power you had over everybody. You loved the pampering Riley gave you. You were arrogant but not quite ambitious yet. You were satisfied with the way things were, for the moment. You didn’t think about the future, you didn’t think about expanding your power. You just lived in the moment.

You were also the only one who met Victoria. She had a special plan for you. She whispered promises of grandeur that you couldn’t deny.

No longer were you the family girl that was content with a normal life. No longer were you the girl who was satisfied with being in the background. No longer were you the girl who wouldn’t harm a fly.

No, now you were the girl who killed anybody who got in the way of what you wanted. You were the girl with power and riches. As far as you were concerned, you were on top of the world. You could take anything you wanted and as the months passed, your ambition grew. You were beginning to want more.

However, you felt obligated to help your creators with their Cullen problem. You vowed to help them. Once they were taken care of you would move on to grander things.

When the time to attack the Cullens came, Victoria kept you by her side. You knew she had a vendetta against someone specifically and you were chomping at the bits to tear someone apart.

“They’re not here,” Victoria growls loudly. You growl as well wanting to join the fight but loyally stayed by her side.

“Where could they be?” You ask her. Victoria huffs racing through the woods. You pursed your lips but quickly followed after her. Riley joined up with the two of your as you made your way into the mountains.

Riley steps into view of the Cullen and human first. You observe them from the cover of the trees. The Cullen stood protectively in front of the human. She shared the same scent that had lead the other newborns into the clearing. Had all of this fighting been over this human?

“Riley... Listen to me. Victoria is just using you to distract me. She knows I’ll kill you. In fact, she’ll be glad she didn’t have to deal with you anymore.”

“Don’t listen, Riley,” Victoria pleads standing on a rock to the side of Riley. You slowly make an appearce behind your creator. The Cullen’s eye moves to you as does the humans. “I told you about their mind tricks.”

“I can read her mind. So, I know what she thinks of you.” He tells Riley.

“He’s lying.” Victoria insists.

“She only created you and this army to avenger her true mate, James.” Your eyes go to Victoria. “That’s the only thing she cares about. Not you.”

“There’s only you. You know that.” Victoria vows him but you can tell that she’s lying. You smirk enjoying the show unraveling before you.

“Think about it. You’re from Forks, you know the area. That’s the only reason she chose you. She doesn’t love you.”

“Riley, don’t let him do this to us. You know I love you.” Victoria promises. You watch Riley curiously. You could sense the doubt in him but then he goes to attack. You flinch and move away when a wolf comes and chomps on Riley. Your eyes scan the area for more wolves not wanting to fall victim to one of them.

“You won’t get a chance like this again!” Your head turns back to the Cullen and Victoria. He continues to taunt her while you turn your focus to the human. You take a few slow steps toward her until her eyes catch yours. Your gaze hardens as you try to control her. Your intrigued when you find her just standing there when she should be choking herself.

You step back into the tree when the human moves with her vampire. You wanted a good fight but you also wanted to observe. Everything made sense now. Victoria wanted revenge for the death of her mate while the vampire tries to protect his. I guess even as a deadly vampire you’re still a romantic. You weren’t quite sure who you wanted to win.

Riley came back into view, you briefly wonder about the wolf. He and Victoria gain the upper hand until the human cuts herself with a rock. Your eyes instantly go black and all you can think about is the blood. Before you know it you’re running for her but her mate grabs you and throws you into the woods.

By the time you return you gain control of yourself. You had been working hard on control when you found out you were stronger and more dangerous with a clear head instead of being controlled by animal instincts.

“Victoria!! Victoria!” Riley screams, breaking your concentration. You felt bad for Riley and took a few steps toward him before you stopped yourself.

Riley and Victoria knew you wanted to branch out on your own but that didn’t mean they would let you go without a fight. You knew how valuable you were to them. Nobody gives up their strongest player.

You didn’t want to be the one to kill him, you still felt the slightest connection to him for turning you. However, while the connection makes you not want to kill him it doesn’t necessarily compel you to save him.

You smirk, stepping back from the scene. You would let the wolf take care of your problem. You hoped that the other vampire would take care of Victoria as well. Then, you’d be free and could do whatever you wanted.

You look away from Riley and back toward Victoria. You were pleased to see her losing the fight. Only when you stopped hearing Riley’s screams and saw Victoria’s head on the ground did you turn to leave the scene.

“Wait!” The Cullen calls after you. You turn your head ever so slightly.

“I have nothing against you and your family. I won’t cause any trouble.” You promise him.

“I know,” He nods, stepping closer but keeping his body between you and his mate. You smirk slightly knowing he could stop you from getting to her if you truly wanted too. “I can help you.”

“You help me?” You tilt your head. “Oh? How so?”

“You want power, you want to be at the top. Have you heard of the Volturi?” He asks.

“No.” You answer, your eyes narrowing.

“They’re vampire royalty. They’ll be at the clearing to assess the damage. You can leave with them, join their coven.” He tells you. You stare at him.

“And what do you get out of this?” You wonder.

“Time.” He says, turning his head toward his human mate.

“I’ll stick around, doesn’t mean I’ll go with them.” You say before leaving them on the mountain. You find the clearing and unsurprisingly see all the newborns dead.

“Wait! Don’t hurt her!” A woman with short hair shouts when you walk out of the forest. You eye the wolves and the Cullens cautiously. “The Volturi will be here shortly.” You slowly nod. Eventually The two from the mountain join you. You watch as a stray newborn almost kills a wolf before the drama seems to end.

The Cullen clan stand together. You notice Bree standing behind them. She had been in the army. She was one of the lower vampires, a vampire that didn’t do much. You’re slightly surprised that she survived.

You don’t have much time to dwell on Bree when something catches your attention. Four distinct yet mouthwatering scents. Scents that tempt you more than any amount of fresh blood. You can just feel your eyes darkening even more.

Four figures in cloaks enter the clearing. The two in the middle wear midnight black ones while the outside two sport charcoal grey robes. They lower their hoods and their ruby red eyes fall on you at the same time.

Your instinct is to move to stand by them, your body even shifts toward them but you’re hesitant. You don’t know how to act. You don’t know what to do. Logic tells you that your scent appeals to them as theirs does to you but you hesitate nonetheless.

Seeing the conflict in your eyes, the furthest from you, the shorter of the two in the grey cloaks, holds his hand out in your direction. There’s a sly yet inviting smirk on his face. Your body reacts before your mind. You rush in front of him, your hand instinctively falling into his gloved one. He yanks you into his chest, his arm snaking around your waist.

Both of your heads fall into each others neck. You both breathe in each others scent but he’s the only one brave enough to place a gentle kiss on your marble skin.

“Impressive,” A melodic voice reaches your ears. You pull from his neck to look at her. He refuse to release you forcing you to shuffle around in his arms.

When you’re settled, his grip tightens forcing you impossibly close. With your back pressed against his chest, you watch the exchange between the Cullens the the cloaked vampires you assume to be the Volturi. Any anxiety that may have been present disappears the longer you’re in his arms.

“I’ve never seen a coven escape an assault of this magnitude intact.”

“We were lucky.”

“I doubt that.”

“It appears we missed an entertaining fight.” Your eyes shift from the blond girl to the one beside her. You wanted to be closer to them but you didn’t want to leave his arms. You didn’t understand and the unknown was frustrating you.

“Shh,” He whispers in your ear as he senses your growing distress. “Just a little longer.” He promises bumping his nose against the side of her head.

“It’s not often we’re rendered unnecessary,” She mentions.

“Had you arrived a half an hour ago you would have fulfilled your purpose.” You glared at him as he spoke to her rudely. Before another work could be exchanged you broke his arm without lifting a finger. He tries to hold in his groan but everyone picks up on it. Naturally, everyone looks to the blond on your side of the field but you just stand there with a satisfied smirk.

“You missed one,” The attention turns to Bree.

“We offered her asylum in exchange for her surrender.”

“That wasn’t yours to offer,” She tells him. “Why did you come?” She asks but Bree doesn’t answer. Your eyebrows instantly raise when the newborn falls to the ground screaming. You look to the blond beside you and realize why the all mistook the vampires pain to be her doing instead of you. “Who created you?”

“You don’t need to do that, she’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“I know,”

“I-I don’t know,” Bree whimpers. “Riley wouldn’t tell us. He said that our thoughts weren’t safe.”

“Her name was Victoria, perhaps you knew her.”

“Edward, had the Volturi had knowledge of Viktoria they would have stopped her. Isn’t that right Jane?”

Jane. A name so simple yet so perfect for the beautiful blond. You found yourself desperate to know more about her. To know more about all of them.

“Of course,” Jane assures them.

“Whatever Bree doesn’t know, Y/n will. She was in the thick of it with Victoria and Riley,” Edward tells them. The cloaks look at you but you keep your hard stare on Edward.

“You wouldn’t be suggesting something about our mate, would you?” The man equipping the midnight black cloak questions Edward, his voice edgier than before. As he spoke, the man holding you tightens his grip even more.

Mate. Of course the logical part of you knew but to say it out loud and to accept that it’s real is something else. You wanted to feel relief that they acknowledge that you’re their mate but you can’t help but to feel tense. They’re weren’t reacting to Bree very well and you had done more damage than she ever has. How would they treat you?

“No, of course not.” The leader of the coven promises before sending Edward a look.

“Felix,” Jane says, turning her head slightly toward the tallest.

“She didn’t know what she was doing!” Jane stops Felix. “We’ll take responsibility for her.”

“Give her a chance”

“The Volturi don’t give second chances,” Jane states causing your body to go tense. The man holding your nuzzles shamelessly into the crook of your neck. You can hear him purring quietly. It helps calm you down but the anxiety in your chest lingers. “Keep that in mind, Caius will be interested to see that she’s still human”

“The date is set.”

“Take care of that Felix. I’d like to take our mate home.” Jane says. Felix glances at her then to you before moving to take care of Bree. You flinch when Bree’s screams abruptly stop.

“It’s alright,” The man holding you whispers. “Come on.” He grabs ahold of your hand and leads you out of the clearing. You follow them, leaving the Cullen’s behind without a second thought. They don’t stop until you reach an airfield where a private jet is waiting for you.

You take a moment to stare at it. You’ve never been on a plane before. You wonder where they’re taking you but you keep your questions to yourself. You figured you could count your lucky stars you didn’t end up like Bree, now isn’t the time to push your luck.

You knew that if you needed too you could destroy all of them but the thought of putting them through any sort of pain is displeasing to you. In fact, you hated the thought of them in pain. You knew you would destroy anybody who harms them. Though, this meant you wouldn’t be able to defend yourself against them should they decide to tear you apart. You’d much rather choose death.

“You’re thinking very hard,” You turn to look at Jane. You hadn’t even realized that the five of you had boarded the plane. “You must have questions for us.”

“Umm... Names would be a nice start,” You say, surprised by how quiet your voice is. The last few months you’ve had to be authoritative and demanding yet now you’re quiet and walking on egg shells.

“Of course,” Jane says giving you a gentle smile, a complete contrast to the girl you had seen in the clearing. She still seems reserved but she’s also more relaxed. “I’m Jane and this is my twin, Alec. That is Demetri and Felix.”

“Y/n,” You introduce yourself.

“You’re still tense,” Demetri notices. He sits beside you and rests his hand on your leg. “What worries you?” You look at him for a moment debating if you should keep your worries to yourself.

“No harm will come to you,” Alec promises. Your eyes turn to him. He notices the subtle relief in your posture. “We would never allow anything to happen to you. You’re safe with us.” Demetri leans over and kisses the side of your head as Felix sits besde you, the twins occupying the seats across from you.

“I thought you didn’t give second chances?”

“You’re special,” Jane tells you. “You’re our mate. Our masters will be forgiving toward you.”

“Masters?”

“How much do you know?” Demetri questions.

“Up until yesterday I thought we burned in the sun,” You tell him. “I don’t know much of anything and I’m sure whatever I do know is most likely wrong.”

“When were you turned?” Felix asks. “We’ve been watching the army for a few months but we never smelt you.”

“Victoria and Riley liked to keep me separate from the others. I’ve only been a vampire maybe 5 months? I was only allowed with the others if they were getting too rowdy and needed to be knocked down a peg or two,” You tell them with your naturally cocky smirk.

“Oh? And what did you do?” Demetri questions.

“I can control people. I can make you do whatever I want,” You tell him.

“So, you could make someone shut up when they talk too much?” Felix smirks sending a look at Demetri.

“Well, yes but I normally just make them bite off their own tongue,” You state. Their eyes return to you and you suddenly get the feeling you spoke out of turn.

“Beautiful and deadly,” Demetri hums rubbing his head against yours as if to scent you. “Perfect,” He growls.

“Completely perfect.” Jane agrees. Your eyes turn to her. “You’ll fit right in, my love.”

“And where are we going?” You ask her.

“Volterra, Italy.” She tells you. “It’s where the Volturi reside and where you will live with us.”

“Sounds fun,” You smirk, holding her gaze feeling completely unintimidated by her despite knowing what she can do.

Volterra, Italy. Sounds like the perfect place to satisfy your ambitions with your mates by your side.

#Volturi #Twilight #Alec x reader #Jane x reader #Felix x reader #Demetri x reader #Vampire!reader #x reader #x y/n #x female!reader #female!reader #Cullens #Eclipse #Riley Biers #Victoria #Mate #Soulmate #Poly

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thesunicarusfellfor · 4 years ago

Note

WAIT WAIT— what if 👀 what if Yandere!Tubbo and Yandere!Tommy falling for the reader at the same time

BROO— THE ANGST POSSIBILITIES

ooooooOOOOO DAMN this one is gonna be good! I love the way you think! So I wrote this as headcanons, but I will write this as an actual story if requested. ^^

This is not exactly implied romantic??? I'm still scared about writing their characters as directly romantic????? I'll probably get braver about it but still lowkey worried.

Yandere!C!Tommy x GN!Reader x Yandere!C!Tubbo Headcanon/Fic

Tommy, at first, completely denied even acknowledging your existence.

Until he saw someone interact with you.

Then he would start pulling out his sword or glaring at them from across the room.

He would definitely pin them in an alleyway and threaten every single one of their canon lives.

Tommy, please. Niki was just trying to give you cookies.

He's the kind of Yandere that would greatly keep his distance both physically, emotionally and mentally. Basically, he would be a Tsundere Yandere.

Tubbo, on the other hand, would be extremely sweet to you.

Need netherite? He had an extra few ingots ready in his pockets!

Interacting with someone who wasn't him? Was he not good enough for you??? Fine. You don't deserve him.

He would cry to you and make you feel guilty OR completely ignore you for a week straight until you come crawling back to him and apologizing.

Straight up can flip emotions like a switch.

The first time either of them realized the other liked you as well, was when they were listening to Mellohi on their bench, watching the sunset when they saw you having a conversation with Ranboo at the bottom of the cliff.

"What're they doing talking to him?" Tommy growled lowly and leaned forward to glared at the enderman who was talking to you. He reached for his bow n' arrow before Tubbo grabbed his arm, stopping him in his tracks, "What? I don't want them talking to anyone but me."

"What do you mean 'anyone but you'?! You avoid them like they're a virus!" Tubbo stared at him, digging his fingers into Tommy's bicep a small bit to show his anger a bit more, "They should only be talking to me."

The blond turned towards his brunet friend and yanked his arm out of his grasp, "Excuse me?" He glared into Tubbo's dull blue eyes, gritting his teeth, "You do nothing but give them stuff!"

"And you treat them like shit and avoid them!" The smaller of the two retorted angrily, trying to keep his tone level enough to where you didn't hear.

Mellohi, the music that had been playing mere moments ago, slowly came to a stop and left nothing but silence and tension in the air. You had noticed them arguing from below, but Ranboo (who had heard their entire argument) decided to pull you away from them and bring you to the Tundra.

"Are you trying to take everything from me?!" Tommy tightened his grip on his diamond sword, although part of him knew that if Tubbo equipped his netherite armour, there would be absolutely no competition whatsoever.

"Take things from you?! They're a human being and you choose to ignore that fact when you ignore them or call them terrible names!"

"I treat everyone like that! You already have Ranboo, I don't understand why you're chasing after them with hearts in your eyes when you're fuckin' married! Loyal much! Oh wait, you aren't loyal, you EXILED ME!"

"It's platonic! I told you that already! And you're starting this again now, Tommy?!"

Ranboo actually felt nervous leaving you alone around both Tommy AND/OR Tubbo after hearing their entire argument that day.

Tommy, although now a lot nicer, became extremely clingy towards you and constantly would walk over and drag you away mid-conversation with anyone that wasn't him. ESPECIALLY if you were talking to Tubbo.

Man would bring you everywhere with him if you would let him.

Netherite mining? Get your pick.

To get new discs? Pack your bags, we're going on an adventure.

Straight up does everything he can do to get you away from Tubbo because he's petty.

He tried giving you as many gifts as Tubbo, but mans is broke.

Tubbo would get extremely annoyed by Tommy even just walking through the area when he was with you.

Would start to hold your hand or link arms with you (if you're comfortable), just so Tommy couldn't pull you away as easily.

Started to try guilt-tripping you into living in Snowchester, and even tried to get you to live in the mansion.

Ranboo actually lied to Tubbo, saying he was scared of enderwalking and hurting you, to convince Tubbo not to guilt-trip you further into living in the mansion.

Tubbo's constant gift-giving got so much more extreme.

Want netherite ingots to make armour?

Nope. No lifting a finger.

He already made you fully enchanted netherite god armour anyway.

Has definitely tried to convince Ranboo to let him involve you in the platonic marriage.

"Ranboo! My beloved!" Tubbo called jokingly, walking into their home. He kicked the snow on his boots before pulling down his hood and taking off his hat, hanging it on the hook as he took off his footwear, "I have a proposition for you!"

The monochrome-coloured man lifted his head and set down the journal in his hand, the ink likely still wet judging by the quill in his hand, "Yeah? What's that?" He placed the feathered pen in the pot of ink and turned to face his platonic husband.

"What would you say to extending our marriage to three people? Like a polyamorous relationship. Like Sapnap, Karl and Big Q?" Tubbo sat down in the chair beside him, watching as Ranboo was left reeling for a few seconds.

"W-well, one, I think you mean expanding. Two, with who?!" The tall male sat up quickly, bumping his leg on the table from his minor flailing, "A-and, and, what about Michael? Are you sure they can be trusted with him?"

Tubbo held out his hand to calm his friend down, making his friend put his hands down so he didn't accidentally hit something, "You know what I meant, and (Y/n)! Y'know... Like, the one with (h/l) (h/c) hair, (tall/short)! (Y/n), them!"

"Yeah, yeah, I know who they are, it's just..." He paused to gather his words, glancing away from his friend. In all reality, he wouldn't mind inviting you into the platonic marriage, even if he knew Tubbo felt more romantic feelings towards you. He didn't shut up about it. It was the fact that he was worried about what kind of mental manipulation Tubbo would do to you if you did agree to be in the marriage. Or even what Tommy would do to you or Tubbo!

"...Just?"

'Your relationship with Tommy is beyond screwed already... Imagine what would happen if both of his friends left him to be in a platonic relationship with me. Tubbo, all of us would be in severe danger.' He thought silently before taking a breath. "I-I don't have my enderwalking state under control... I'm already scared for Michael enough, and I don't want to hurt her as well... Give it some time and we'll see. Please.." He whispered, lying through his teeth. Ranboo knew you were damn good at protecting yourself and could knock his long and lanky ass to the dirt within seconds.

Tubbo's bright shiny eyes seemed to glaze over for a moment as his smile began to falter, "Ah... Yeah. I guess that makes sense. For their safety I suppose." His normal look returned and he gave him a smile, "Yeah, that does make a lot of sense. I'll ask again next month to see what happens."

"What... What about Tommy-"

"What about him?" He demanded sharply, his smile vanishing in mere seconds which caught Ranboo off guard yet again, "He doesn't need to be in their life. He would do more harm to them than good!"

Ranboo was left gaping, his mouth moving but not creating any sounds. He watched as Tubbo eyed him carefully before he got up, murmuring something about grabbing food then going to bed.

Once the goat hybrid was completely out of sight, Ranboo reached for his memory book and took the quill again.

'Protect (Y/n) from Tubbo and Tommy. Get them out of DreamSMP.'

Ranboo was scared for you.

He was stuck watching as these crazy two men fought over you, threatened you, manipulated you... It was worrying, to say the least.

Don't get him wrong. If he didn't have an adopted son, a platonic husband that he still cared about despite him being another Dream at this point, and a Syndicate to protect him from, he would've packed everything and ran, bringing you with him.

He was practically walking on eggshells around this man that he had once been extremely close to!

It practically sent shivers down his spine...

Eventually, it got to the point where Ranboo had gone to your house in the ungodly hours of the morning to talk to you.

This man LITERALLY crept into Tubbo's room AND Tommy's house to make sure they were both asleep before going to talk to you.

"Ran... Boo?" You asked, yawning softly as you leaned against the door, your hair all frizzy and messed up, "What's up? It'sssss... Like 5:30am. The sun is barely even up..."

"(Y/n)... Can we go inside? Please... There's something very wrong.." He murmured softly, his memory book tightly held in his grasp as he glanced around. Tommy could be waking up sometime soon, and he did not want to get caught talking to you. He would certainly be down a canon life before he could even say 'sorry'.

You watched the nervous man in front of you and nodded before stepping aside to let him in. Peaking outside, you looked around for what was causing him to panic but went back inside once you didn't see anything. "What's wrong?" Softening your tone, you gestured for him to sit at the table while you made coffee.

Once he had a fresh mug of coffee in front of him, Ranboo slowly began to gather his nerve and speak. He told you everything he could remember, and even opened his memory book to tell you about the things he didn't remember. Everything from the fight where Tommy and Tubbo's friendship completely went downhill a few months ago, to the threats Tubbo used against Tommy, the manipulation against you, the threats he had received by talking to you, and even Tubbo's violent mood switches when talking about you or Tommy.

The entire time, you just sat there wide-eyed as you listened to him ramble on about his fears and worries, and everything in between. He even mentioned wanting to actually divorce Tubbo because of how scared he was for you and his own life. "I don't... Not... Believe you... But this is- this is a little difficult to believe." You knew the enderman hybrid wouldn't lie about something so serious, and he definitely wouldn't be shaking like a leaf if it was a joke or a lie.

"Y-yeah, I expected that... But I really do care about your safety, honestly. You know I wouldn't joke about this kind of thing, especially about Tubbo." He murmured softly, looking at his crown laying on the table in front of him, "In all honesty, I came here this early because I was scared about Tommy trying to kill me if he saw me talking to you..."

"He wouldn't ki-"

The door slammed open dramatically and there was a cheerful shout of your name, "(Y/n)!!! Let's go mining for diamon-" Tommy walked into your kitchen, only to freeze mid-step and midfacial expression. His expression went from surprised to annoyance to a grim smile, "Hello Ranboo!" He gave him a smile that was more like baring his teeth as he twirled his axe nonchalantly.

He was going to hurt him...

#tommyinnit #tommyinnit x reader #dream smp x reader #yandere tommyinnit #yandere tommyinnit x reader #yandere tubbo x reader #yandere tubbo #ranboo #ranboolive #dsmp #tommyinnit dreamsmp #tubbo dreamsmp #ranboo dream smp #tommyinnit dream smp #tubbo dream smp #c!tommyinnit #c!tommy #c!tubbo #c!ranboo

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darthkruge · 4 years ago

Note

hello lovely!! i’ve been getting back into star wars lately and i’ve been loving your fics!! and i was wondering if i could make a request?? sort of like,, anakin but he doesn’t turn to the dark side type thing?? like he maybe confesses he’s scared to lose you and you help him through it?? maybe obi wan helps out?? honestly you can take it however you want :)) ty ty

anakin skywalker x reader || rewritten

summary || a rots fix it fic where i take many liberties and give anakin a support system + everyone gets better communication and we think about how it would perhaps end differently

warnings || hella canon divergence, angst w/ a happy ending, some violence (non graphic and not super described)

words || 5.1k (i am legit shocked)

a/n || hello and thank you!! i’m so glad you’ve been loving my fics! this fic was honestly super challenging for me and it ended up being the longest thing i’ve ever written. i made some big changes and lots of smaller ones, but each one was fully intentional. i really, really hope y’all like it <3

main masterlist || anakin masterlist

gif credit

-----

Anakin awoke with a start, chest heaving and covered in sweat. He was gripping the blankets as he tried to ground himself, frantically looking around as if to discern between reality and the horrid dreamscape his mind created. He whipped his head to the side, visibly relaxing as he saw you staring up at him, a confused look on your face.

You were no stranger to Anakin’s nightmares but this one seemed unlike any he’d ever had. You slept curled into him and, thus, his jolt caused one of your own. Unsure if he wanted your touch just yet, you reached out to him with the Force. Panic, loss, grief, fear, terror, insecurity. You looked into his eyes, watching as they slowly cleared and he registered your presence. He blinked quickly, trying to clear the tears from his vision and gave you a slight nod.

Reaching a tentative hand to his shoulder, you suppressed a gasp as you felt him shudder beneath you. You quietly whispered his name and placed a finger under his jaw, guiding his face to yours. You nodded back at him and opened your arms in silent invitation. He crawled into your embrace as you pulled him impossibly close to you, situating yourself against the headboard so you could better wrap yourself around his shaking body. Choked sobs erupted from his lips, each one tearing a hole in your heart. As he finally let himself cry with his face buried into your neck, you held him. By the Maker, you held him.

He didn’t want to speak just yet and you understood. You’ve always extended the same respect back to him as he gives to you. Tucked into you, Anakin’s fingers squeezed into your flesh, as if trying to remind himself you were solid. You placed a few kisses into his soft hair and onto his forehead, hands running up and down his arms and back. You physically pressed reminders of your love into his skin for hours and, somewhere in the midst of your embrace, he let himself fall into a state of limbo. Unawake, unasleep, umoving, yet feeling everything you had to offer.

----

When morning came, you reached out once again. The emotions from last night were still evident, just not as strong. Simultaneously, you allowed a small smile to come to you as you felt something new. Warmth, comfort, love. You ran your fingers through Anakin’s hair to pull him to consciousness, needing to see his eyes. Stars, his eyes. While they were absolutely gorgeous, they also always gave him away. You once told him that. “Only for you, my love.” He’d replied.

“Hi.” He croaked out, meeting your gaze. Your eyes fluttered closed for a second as you took a deep breath in relief. His eyes were clear. You didn’t know how long the shadows would be banished for, but as long as they weren’t constant, you had hope.

“Hi, baby.” You whispered, allowing yourself to give him another forehead kiss, made easy by your position that you’d somehow remained in throughout the night. You looked at him expectantly and knew he knew what you were asking.

“You… you died,” Anakin started. His eyes were already filling with tears. “It wasn’t clear. There was so much blood. And you kept begging me to help you. You screamed and screamed and screamed and you were in agony and…”

You took his hand in yours, squeezing his fingers in encouragement to go on.

“I never- I never came for you.” He spit the words out as if they were venomous and shook his head. You could hear the self-hatred in his words, the way he couldn’t grasp the concept of hurting you, ever, and yet how seriously he took this.

“Hey, hey. Stop, my love.” You said, hoping to pull him out of his spiral. “You would never harm me, Anakin. You would come for me, you always have. That was a horrible dream and I’m so sorry you had to experience it. But it was just a dream, Anakin. It’s not real.”

He pulled away from you as if he couldn’t stand to feel your gentle touch. “No, no, no! It-” His words were cut off by his uneven breathing, his pulse racing as he relived the nightmare. “It felt like the ones I had about my mother. It felt… prophetic. I’m scared, Y/N, I can’t lose you.”

You walked over to him, placing your hands on his cheeks and rubbing your thumbs over his cheekbones, hoping to calm him. “You won’t. It takes a lot to kill me, you know? Especially when I have you by my side.”

Anakin nodded but you could tell he was unconvinced.

“How about you talk to Obi-Wan about the dreams? He’s always helped you before.” You suggested.

While normally this would be unthinkable, as it would expose your relationship, Anakin felt himself pulled toward the choice. Inwardly, he admitted that he could definitely use a friend right now. And Obi-Wan had always stood by him. Somehow, he just knew that now would be no different.

------

Obi-Wan easily swung the door open with the Force before Anakin even had a chance to knock. He knew his former Padawan’s force signature like the back of his hand and had sensed his distress for days. Unbeknownst to Anakin, Obi-Wan had canceled his missions due to this, wanting to stay close for when Anakin eventually came to him for guidance.

Obi-Wan looked up from his paperwork as he realized Anakin refused to come closer. Huddled behind the door frame, a conflicted and fearful look on his face, Obi-Wan was struck by how similar Anakin looked to the little boy he’d found on Tatooine all those years ago. Many nights, young Anakin would come into Obi-Wan’s room, plagued with nightmares. Just as before, Obi-Wan never turned him away.

“Something’s troubling you.”

Anakin sighed, taking a tentative step forward. “You know Master L/N?”

Obi-Wan smiled knowingly, having a sense of where this is going. “Yes, of course. A brilliant strategist, much like yourself.”

“I…. I’m involved with them, Master.”

“Involved?” Obi-Wan replied, with a quirked eyebrow.

“Please don’t punish Y/N for this, I know the Council frowns upon relationships. If you need to report it, I understand. But just report me, say they had nothing to do with it. But before you do anything please, Master, listen to what I must tell you. I wouldn’t unless it was absolutely necessary.” Anakin pleaded.

“Anakin, I know.”

“Yeah, I mean it truly is necessary-”

Obi-Wan placed a comforting hand on the younger Jedi’s shoulder. “You misunderstand. I mean, I know.”

Anakin’s eyes widened with realization before confusion filtered into his gaze. “But we were so careful!”

“Not as much as you would think,” Obi-Wan said with a slight laugh.

“And you’re not upset?”

He sighed. “Being honest, I was a bit at first. Anakin, you know the rules and you can be so reckless at times! But how could I fault you for your own humanity? And I knew who you were when I met you. I was always aware of your compassion, your capacity for emotions.” Anakin nodded and smiled, but the faraway look in his eye never wavered.

Clearing his voice, Obi-Wan continued. “Are you alright, Anakin?”

“No.” The strength of the word shocked them both and caused Anakin to take a moment to compose himself. “They’re dying.”

Panic flashed through Obi-Wan’s expression. “They’re what? What happened? Was it a mission? Do the medics know? Is-”

“- No, nothing… nothing yet. But it will.” While Obi-Wan didn’t exactly understand, he could tell through Anakin’s tone that his former Padawan believed this with his entire soul.

“I’ve been having more nightmares.” Anakin said.

“Like the ones with your mother?”

Anakin nodded, his gaze muddled as his mind wove through every possibility on how to save you. Coming up with none, he looked up quickly, the lost confusion clear.

“It’s going to be alright, Anakin. We’re going to do this together.” Obi-Wan offered, trying to comfort his friend. When Anakin nodded this time, his expression had more hope in it. Obi-Wan returned the gesture, tipping his head as Anakin walked out. Before Anakin reached the door, Obi-Wan called his name.

“Talk to me if you feel troubled. About anything, my friend. And just know… it’s okay to feel afraid. And you’re no less a Jedi because you love them. At least, not in my eyes.” For the first time since he’d walked in the room, Anakin gave a true smile. His former Master inhaled deeply, realizing after hearing those words, Anakin looked more like himself than he had in a long while.

-----

A few hours and a Council meeting later, Anakin walked back into your chambers, closing the door with a huff. He wasn’t enraged, per se, but definitely conflicted. You approached him cautiously, heart falling when you saw those familiar clouds back in his eyes.

“Did Obi-Wan not take it well?”

Anakin shook his head. “It’s not… he was supportive. But the Council has assigned something to me and…” He trailed off and looked at you. Only then did you see his bloodshot, puffy eyes.

“What did they ask of you, Anakin?” You questioned, coming behind him to gently massage his tense shoulders.

“I’m needed to spy on the Chancellor. Apparently there’s a Sith Lord somewhere in the Order. They suspect him.” He tried to keep his voice strong, but you could see how torn apart he was by the inflection in his tone.

You took a breath and tried to process the information. “Will you do it?”

“I don’t know… if the Council tells me I must, then I must. But the Chancellor has only been good to me. I worry about betraying him but I don’t want to let down the Order. I’m not sure how to do this without causing someone harm.” He confessed.

“They shouldn’t have put you in this position, it’s unfair. And you don’t have to, Ani. I know it feels like you do but you don’t need to bend to each of the Council’s requests. Whatever the fallout, whatever you choose, please know that I’m with you. And so is Obi-Wan. Not that it fixes anything, but at the very least, you’ll always have us.”

Anakin turned around so he was facing you. “I don’t know what to do.” He whispered, voice laced with hopelessness.

“Trust yourself. You have a good heart, intelligence, and strong morals. They’ve never failed you before.”

He nodded before leaning into you and your arms instinctively wrapped around him. Your fingertips found their way to his hair, gently weaving through the golden strands.

“We’ll get through this, yeah?” While it was a question, you both knew you meant it as a statement.

“We’ll get through this.” Anakin echoed. He mumbled the words into your neck where he had buried his face. As if the words could seep into your skin. As if the hope could find its way to your heart and stay there, ever protected, ever true.

-----

The next day, Anakin found himself in Palpatine’s office. He was wary, guarded. It was evident by the look on his eyes, the way he took a moment before taking another step. It was his training as both a Jedi and a General that allowed him to do this. The careful complexity of planning every move.

“I heard the Council debating whether or not they should have made you a Master. It seems they do not trust you or value your talent as they should.” Palpatine’s words made Anakin freeze. Rationally, he knew this was wrong. At the very least, Obi-Wan trusts him and so do you. But there was a part of him that felt so validated by the Chancellor’s words that he wanted to hear more. To bask in them, in feeling wanted and appreciated. He hated himself for it.

“I… I’m not sure what you mean by this.” Anakin attempted not to give himself away any more than he already has.

“Well, they care about your potential. But they hold you back. They’ll never show you your true power, for they don’t want you to understand. They just wish to use it, no matter your own fate.”

“I feel cast aside. Like I don’t matter.” Anakin wasn’t even sure why he shared these words. Somehow, in feeling so praised, the doubts just bubbled their way to the surface. He felt like a child in these moments, so painfully fragile.

“You don’t. Not to them, Anakin. But with me I can teach you your power. I can teach you the ways of the Dark Side. I know of your fears, of those nightmares that plague you. I know about your secret marriage and how close you are to losing it all.”

Anakin froze, his heart hammering in his chest. His thoughts raced as he tried to piece together the truth from all the lies. The mentions of Darth Plagueis. The Dark Side of the Force.

“You’re the Sith Lord!” Anakin said, igniting his lightsaber and pointing it at the older man’s chest.

Palpatine bowed his head slightly, a small smile gracing his lips. “Well done, my boy.” Anakin felt sick as he noted the pride in his tone. And yet that aching part inside him still swelled, ever so slightly.

“Now, don’t do anything rash.” The Chancellor reasoned. “Only the Dark Side can save the one you love.”

Anakin wanted to do the right thing. He wished to be the one who could stand up and arrest Palpatine without a single ounce of guilt or regret. But as soon as Palpatine mentioned you, it’s like all his logic disappeared. He just wanted to save you, to not fail you as he’d failed his mother. But then he thought back to your words. “Strong morals.” And to his Master’s. “We’ll do this together.”

“I’m turning you into the Council.”

“Wouldn’t you prefer to kill me?”

“Yes.” Anakin’s remark was forceful and clipped with anger.

“Then do it. Give yourself over to your wrath.”

He felt himself burning with betrayal, with resentment toward both sides. Even so, he could still tell right from wrong, selfless from selfish. And whatever Palpatine was doing… it certainly did not have the will of the people in mind. Without so much as deigning him with another response, Anakin turned and walked out of the room.

“If you turn me in, you’ll never save them!” Anakin tried to will Palpatine’s voice out of his head as he ventured back to the Council chambers. When he arrived back, he decided to slightly alter his plans. While he knew he must face all of them eventually, he wanted to talk to Obi-Wan first. Perhaps his Master could give him guidance, like he did about your nightmares.

“General Skywalker… are you alright?” Anakin stumbled as he walked right into another figure, too caught up in his own head.

“I’m fine, Master Windu. Thank you- I’m sorry.” Mace looked at the younger Jedi with an unreadable expression. While there was much in his eyes, concern was definitely a part of it.

“Have you seen Master Kenobi?” Anakin said after a brief pause for composure.

“He’s supposed to leave for his next mission any moment now. If you hurry, you can probably still catch him.”

Anakin thanked Master Windu before taking off in a run. No matter how fast his legs carried him, he felt his mind was working even faster, the internal conflict brewing more intently by the second.

-----

Obi-Wan opened the door as soon as before Anakin could even knock. He looked at Anakin and gestured at a vacant chair, a silent invitation to sit. Anakin shook his head quickly. The younger Jedi’s eyes were scattered and conflicted, as if he’d been shaken to his very core.

“Palpatine is the Sith Lord.” The words came out rushed, yet clear. As if Anakin needed to get them out as quickly as he could but replayed them in his head until they were all he knew. The intensity showed Obi-Wan that there was no doubt in his friend’s mind.

Obi-Wan blinked. “Okay.” He stroked his beard, trying to find the words to say. “Are you alright?”

Anakin looked at Obi-Wan in confusion. Certainly there were more important questions his former Master would want to ask than that.

“I know you and the Chancellor were close. This can’t be easy for you. I just wanted to ask if you were alright.”

“I’m not sure.” Anakin said after some hesitation. “I don’t really know what to think… Palpatine is evil, right? But he believed in me when no one else did. He saw my potential, allowed me to confide in him. He told me he could show me how to save Y/N. Would someone evil do that?”

Obi-Wan’s eyes softened as he looked at the painfully conflicted young man in front of him. “Anakin… he was manipulating you. He was isolating you so you had no one to turn to but him. It was a tactic, a ploy. He doesn’t care for you.” Anakin looked so heartbroken that Obi-Wan knew Anakin believed him. “I’m so sorry.”

“But what about Y/N?” Anakin asked desperately.

Obi-Wan sighed. “Loving someone in the Order isn’t easy. Especially after everything you’ve gone through. And losing someone… it changes the way you love. You fear constantly, wondering when your love will evade you. When it will fall apart, like all the rest. But living like that, loving like that… it leaves no room for growth or peace. And that’s what relationships are for, aren’t they?” His voice was filled with compassion and wisdom. From experience, perhaps? Regardless of the reason, Anakin was reminded that someone did understand him. Despite the circumstances, he felt content. At least a bit.

“Is there any way to save them?”

“I’m not sure. Let’s focus on Palpatine for now, alright? And we’ll bring Master L/N with us so you know they’re safe.” Obi-Wan wished nothing more than having a set solution to save Y/N. But some things were even out of his grasp. “I know this must be impossible for you, Anakin. I truly am sorry.”

Anakin nodded. After all, it was true. If there was anything to describe the impending threat of losing another person he loved, impossible summed up the process. “I know. You’re doing all you can. Thank you, Master. And yes, I would like to bring them with us.”

Obi-Wan clasped a hand to Anakin’s shoulder, giving it a reassuring squeeze as they met each other with a smile. “I’ll send them a message right now.”

----

You gasped when you received Obi-Wan’s message with the details of the Supreme Chancellor’s truth. Your heart cried for Anakin, knowing the betrayal must be breaking him. All you could do was wish that with Obi-Wan’s help, the two of you could support Anakin until he felt like he could breathe again. And you had faith in him. You always had faith in him.

Grabbing your cloak, you jogged to Obi-Wan’s quarters. As soon as you opened the door, you ran to Anakin and hugged him to you, needing to feel his presence. Somehow, you knew he needed it, too.

“Ready?” Anakin and Obi-Wan gave you nods of confirmation and you gave a tentative smile. “Alright. Let’s do this.”

-----

Anakin entered Palpatine’s chambers first. For once, he felt sure of himself. He finally knew what he had to do. His gaze shifted to you, making sure you were alright. You placed a hand on his arm, rubbing your thumb up and down to reassure him. He inhaled. Exhaled. And ignited his saber.

“I knew you’d come back, Skywalker. I knew you’d join me.”

“Think again.” Obi-Wan responded as you and him walked into the chambers. Pure, unfiltered rage flickered through Palpatine’s eyes in response.

“Anakin, they’re trying to corrupt you. They’re trying to keep your power. Come with me, boy, and I’ll teach you all you wish to know. I’ll teach you how to save them.” He said, pointing a pale finger toward your face.

You let out a sharp breath as you suddenly understood Anakin’s conflict. Of course Palpatine was using you as a bargaining chip. Using Anakin’s fear of abandonment, of losing his loved ones against him. It was disgusting, even for a Sith.

“I… you can’t possibly know how to do that. It’s impossible!”

“Not on the Dark Side. Look… Obi-Wan has turned them against you. He’s the cause of this! I’m sure he didn’t even pose a solution to saving Y/N. It’s because he doesn’t care about you, not like I do.”

The shadows returned to Anakin’s eyes as his gaze switched between Obi-Wan and Palpatine. He couldn’t even bring himself to look at you, to see the pain in your eyes as he struggled with a choice that for others would be so simple. He hated himself for being weak but he truly couldn’t fathom losing you.

Obi-Wan stepped forward, backing Palpatine against the wall and pointing his lightsaber at Palpatine’s throat. Anakin stepped back, too frozen to move, and unconsciously placed himself between them and you.

“It’s over, Chancellor. Don’t make this more difficult than it already is.” Obi-Wan said.

Palpatine shot lightning from his hands, causing Obi-Wan to deflect the matter with his lightsaber, redirecting it to Palpatine himself. As Palpatine shook from the force of his own blast, he once again called to Anakin.

“If you let him kill me, dear boy, Y/N will die. If you don’t try to save them, you will be the cause of their death.”

Anakin’s eyes widened, those words hitting him right in the chest. He moved forward, pointing his lightsaber at Obi-Wan but refusing to make the final cut to end his life. Obi-Wan looked like he wanted to speak but the effort of holding of Palpatine’s lightning rendered him useless. It was Obi-Wan, after all. His former Master, his friend. The one person who he trusted with the secret of his marriage. He couldn’t kill him, right? He faltered, stepping slightly back.

“Ani,” You said, your voice calm as you tried to reason with him. “Ani if you do this, you can’t come back from it. I know you don’t want to lose me and if you kill Obi-Wan, you will, regardless of the fate of my life. You aren’t too far gone, yet. You haven’t done anything irredeemable. Remember who you are, my love.”

Anakin heard your words and looked at your face. You. He wanted to do good by you, to do good by all of them. He wanted to make his mother proud, make himself feel like leaving her for the Jedi Order meant something. And then his gaze filtered over to his friend. Obi-Wan stood tall against the force of Palpatine’s lightning, reminding Anakin of his friend’s strength. It was something Anakin wanted to emulate, too.

Understanding his choice, Anakin took a step forward to position the blade toward Palpatine’s chest. His hand was shaking, movements unsure, eyes glossed over with immeasurable pain. But before he could make contact, you swiftly moved in front of him and killed Palpatine instead. Obi-Wan was thrust backward as the lightning ceased, chest heaving as he tried to catch his breath.

“Why would you do that?” Anakin asked as he looked at you.

“I didn’t want you to have to kill your friend. No matter what he turned out to be.” You said as you shifted on the balls of your feet. The weight of Palpatine’s death now weighed on your soul, as do those of every life you’ve ever ended. You could bear it and you knew Anakin was strong enough to do so, as well. You just didn’t want him to have to.

Anakin nodded and whispered a thank you back to you. You just smiled, the love for him clear in your expression. Anakin turned around, walking to his friend and extending a hand for him.

“I never doubted you.” Obi-Wan said simply as he met Anakin’s guilty eyes.

“I should have made the choice to believe you earlier. I shouldn’t have let him get to me. I’m sorry, Master.”

“Look at me, Anakin. We all struggle with our morals. We struggle and we’re unsure and we pray and hope to land on the right decision. And you did. You have nothing to apologize for.” Looking at your and Anakin’s arms around each other, Obi-Wan made one last decision. “How about the two of you retire for the evening? I’ll debrief with the Council, you’ve been through enough.”

Once again, Anakin was struck by the older Jedi’s strength and selflessness. He nodded, as did you, before he accompanied you back to your quarters.

----

You kept one arm around Anakin’s waist the entire way home, mirroring his that was around your shoulders. You couldn’t bear to separate, not after the events of the past few days. Seeing Anakin so torn up inside, it was eating away at you. Knowing you couldn’t save him was one of the hardest things you’ve ever had to deal with.

Now, Palpatine was finally gone. There was no more threat to the Jedi Order, the Force once again balanced. But both of you still understood the one solution that hadn't been found: how to save you. It made everything easier, that you chose to kill the Chancellor. Anakin refused to voice the doubts in his head, wondering if he actually would have gone through with it knowing he would lose his chance at saving you.

The air was melancholic surrounding you both. Heavy. Neither of you knew what to say, words failing in a moment that was so conflicted it almost overwhelmed you. But your heart warmed as you saw Anakin scamper in front of you to open and hold the door for you. You loved him so much, for doing the little things even in moments like these. It gave you hope.

You were okay with death, so long as it only affected you. When you joined the Jedi, you had to make your peace with it. But after you fell in love everything changed. You didn’t want Anakin to go through the pain of losing you. He’d been so open with you about, well, everything. Especially his past. He’d gone through so much, felt such raw pain and loss, you didn’t want to add to that.

Taking his hands in yours, you looked into his blue eyes.

“I don’t want you to die.” He whispered, the desperate, deflated tone making your heart break. “I won’t.” You wished to say, but you knew you couldn’t.

“I don’t want to die, either.” You chose these words instead, relying on their honesty.

“Palpatine could have saved you.” Anakin said after a beat.

You sighed. “You don’t know that.” You stated, knowing it wouldn’t change how he felt.

“Neither do you!”

“But at what cost? At the cost of losing your soul? Anakin, you would have had to join the Sith! That’s no longer you! You’re good and you couldn’t have saved me if you were there, don’t you see that?” You pleaded. You wished he would see your logic, the truth behind your words. How even though he thought otherwise, he made the right decision.

“What good is saving the Order if you won’t be a part of it?”

“What good is saving my life if I wouldn’t have you to live it with?” You countered.

Anakin let out an exhausted breath before pulling you into him, hugging you. The fighting was too much and, frankly, he didn’t want to argue. Not with you, not ever. You both let out a humorless chuckle as you leaned into each other.

“I love you.” His tone conveyed it all.

“I love you.” You replied, your voice muffled from being pressed into his robes.

“Can we sleep? I don’t want to face this right now. Can we just put this aside, if just for a moment? Can I lay with you and can you hold me and can we just have each other?” You questioned breathlessly.

“I would like nothing more, my love.” He smiled slightly and pressed a kiss to your head as he added the words of endearment, wanting you to understand he wasn’t upset with you. You already knew that, though. You were in love with Anakin Skywalker. Of course you’d argue from time to time. But at the end of the day, you were two hopelessly in love Jedi just trying to save each other.

Crawling into bed, sleep came for the both of you quickly. You were holding him and he was holding you, tangled together as you nestled his warm embrace. He tucked his face into your neck as you did so and savored the feel of you next to him. Safe.

Drifting off, Anakin tried to fight the pull of sleep, knowing he’d just suffer from another nightmare like he had every day since the first one. One where you’d die and he could do nothing to stop it. Amidst these tumultuous thoughts, his breathing evened, lulling him under.

You were in the grass, a flower crown atop your head. Anakin was leaning against a small house. It was quaint but beautiful. Small, not outwardly flashy, but full of love and meaning. Looking around, he smiled as he saw green vines crawling up the sides of the house, a garden of your favorite flowers out front. You always had a soft spot for that.

We are on Naboo, he realized. It was peaceful. It was the dream you always talked of together. Anakin’s breath caught as he felt the certainty of this dream. It felt just like his nightmares, except this one left him content. He didn’t want to entertain the thought for too long, afraid of jinxing it. But he knew it was prophetic. He wasn’t sure how he changed his fate, what exactly gave him this future. Something inside him just knew that when he wakes up the next morning, all will be okay. He felt infinitely lighter as he understood the threat was gone.

When you looked up and saw him, you raced toward him and jumped into his arms. Anakin stumbled but caught you, breathing in your scent as you kissed the side of his neck. As he held you, his thoughts slightly wandered. But he was grounded by your presence, reminding him that you were safe and he was okay. With you, he was finally, completely, home.

-----

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the-insomniac-emporium · 4 years ago

Text

Wounded Love (Lady Dimitrescu/F!Reader)

Fandom: Resident Evil: Village Rating: M for mature. Blood, more blood, heavy language, seriously lots of blood. Literally the bloodiest/most detailed thing I've written. Genre: Super angst with some fluff to ease the pain. We're talking putting honey in your cup of poison to make it taste better. The ending is split, with both a happy and a sad ending. Warnings: Minor surgery (technically?) while the patient is fully awake (that's the reader, btws), blood loss, graphic depiction of a wound and how said wound is taken care of. Possible trigger for self-harm, as the reader is performing part of the surgery themselves. Also brief mention of cannibalism in the bad ending. This may very well be a Dead Dove: Do Not Eat sort of thing. Notes: While I have more medical knowledge than the average person, due to my Girl Scouts training + having a mother as a nurse, I am in no way shape or form a medical professional, and do not suggest that the methods of treatment used in this fic be taken seriously. If you find yourself seriously injured, do not attempt to replicate anything you read here. Only a portion of this is based on a real-ass incident I went through, the rest is based on a dream, and what I experienced was not what you want to do in an emergency.

{Wounded Love}

This was a mistake. Blood stains your leg, your fingers, and bruises start to form all over your exhausted body. And for what? Why had you, a tiny, fragile human, dared to pass through this damned, lycan-infested forest? Because a woman who didn’t even love you asked you to. Now you were going to die, body certain to get left out in the cold or reduced to a pile of gnawed bones. If you had more strength remaining, you might have slammed your hand into the ground in frustration, or screamed until your lungs burned from something other than frost.

But that wouldn’t get you anywhere. Wouldn’t help you get back to the castle, wouldn’t ease the racing of your heart. So you settle for the only thing that might do any good: One quick motion pulls the scarf from your neck, sending a chill down your spine that you promptly ignore. Even with shaky hands and numb fingers, your experience is enough to let you wrap the cloth around your leg, tying the ends in a knot to secure it. The pressure hurts, just not enough for you to prefer bleeding out. A test step reveals that walking is mildly more difficult now.

“I’m going to haunt her,” you muse, under your breath, tears starting to freeze at the corner of your eyes. Still, you are as quietly determined as ever, and so once more you limp down the path. Every time you put weight on your injured leg it protests harder. If not for the snow and ice covering the ground, you might have quickly searched for a walking stick. “What could be so important about this damn package? Couldn’t Doug or whatever-his-fucking-name-is deliver it? Man can practically teleport, and here I am, watching as blood loss and hypothermia race to see who can kill me first.”

Gods were you angry. Why had this happened so soon after you had settled in? Finally you had been comfortable in Castle Dimitrescu, no longer as frightened of the residents, even finding them… charming, in a way. Then the Lady of house called to you for what she claimed to be a simple errand. You had believed her, even when she explained that you would have to leave the relative safety of her home. What a fool you had been.

“What a fool she must be,” you murmur, “to think me safe here. To think I could outlast wolfmen prowling the village outskirts.” Would she even care if she saw you now? Would she be surprised, disappointed? Would she do something to change your fate? There was no reason for her to do so. It didn’t matter how much you had helped her, how much she claimed to appreciate what you did (heavy lifting, repair of clothing, massages). You were as replaceable as any other Maiden there was. And that, that was what made you have a double-take. It came to you in that moment, a thought so painful that you could not deny it was the truth. “She never thought I would survive.”

Bitterness coats your tongue, like blood in your throat, and your brain demands that you destroy your cargo, the very thing that got you sent here in the first place. You almost do it. Feet stopping, arms shrugging the carrying straps off, bloody hands taking hold of it. Tears fall, just two, and hit the package. At that moment your plan changed. This new idea would be far, far more satisfying… as long as you succeeded.

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

Spite was one hell of a drug. Enough of it and you could march your warm corpse right back to the castle, fist banging on the front door with everything you had. The path had been shorter than you thought, thankfully, but it had still taken so much out of you. Now you were leaning against the door, sliding down it, unable to support your own weight. Nothing inside the castle stirred. Were they ignoring you? Was Alcina really going to let you die inches from your “home”? Fuck that, you thought.

“Alcina!” You scream, loud as you can, startling the birds in the distant trees. The word echoes around you and rattles inside your ribs. It’s not enough. “Damn it, I am seconds away from dying, get out here now so I can look you in your fucking eyes!” Something tears a little in your throat, turning the last of your words into a hellish screech, leaving you to gasp and croak in the snow. You go to wipe your tear-filled eyes with your hands, only to remember just how much blood they’re covered in.

Sobs overtake you in just a few moments. You’re blinded by tears, deafened by sorrows, and numb from all the cold. In the aching seconds before you black out, you can only barely make out the silhouette of someone rushing to your side…

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

The first thing you feel when you wake up is mind searing pain. You try to jolt upwards, only to find a pair of strong, gloved hands holding you down. Someone shouts something, but you can’t make it out, and you feel another hand gently squeeze one of your own. Pained gasps escape your throat one after the other, but whatever is hurting you doesn’t stop. It takes a full minute for you to adjust enough to make sense of where you are. At last, you understand what’s being said.

“-it’s okay, shhh, please, we’re trying to help,” says none other than Lady Dimitrescu herself. She’s the one holding your hand, doing her best not to hurt you with her grip, trying desperately to calm you down. One the other side of you, Cassandra is positioned to hold you down. There’s a tight-lipped scowl on her face, and her brow is furrowed, but she’s not looking at your face, but rather eying somewhere in the opposite direction. Following her gaze, you find her older sister is sitting near your injured leg, and is undeniably the source of some of your pain. In one hand she holds a bottle of alcohol (notably not the wine her family produces), the other holding a wet cloth to your wound. No wonder it stings so much.

“Shit, shit, stop,” you growl, barely getting the words out. But all anyone does is look at you. Alcina’s mouth opens to speak, only for you to cut her off. “I’ve got medical training, for the love of Mother Miranda let me help! How long have I been unconscious?” This time Bela stops, glancing at her mother for direction. The grip on your torso grows looser, with Cassandra evidently heeding your words, and you take the chance to sit up, careful not to move your leg. At this point you realize that there’s a needle of sorts in your arm, attached to a tube, which trails up into a blood bag. It’s clearly been improvised with equipment from the “wine-making” part of the castle.

“Fifteen minutes at most,” a new voice chimes, from somewhere behind you. “I got that cloth you wanted, mother, but something tells me I’m not done fetching things.” Ah, Daniela Dimitrescu. Was the whole family helping you?... Why? As much as you wanted answers, there wasn’t (currently) time for questions. Not when one glance at your leg tells you that some of your flesh is rapidly decomposing. The wound was made only an hour ago, and already it was getting deadlier than you could even process.

“I need a sharp, clean knife, a needle with thread, a glass of water, and someone needs to put a metal tool, sterilized, on the stove, right now,” you said, finding it easier to talk now that no one was cleansing your wound. Without hesitation Daniela dispersed into a cloud of insects, heading towards the kitchen, while Cassandra stood up and moved towards the stairs.

“Guess I’ll get the needle,” she said, sounding rather unenthusiastic.

“What are you planning?” Alcina asks, more concerned than you had ever heard her before. Attempting to reassure her, you manage a small smile before explaining.

“Got scratched and slobbered on by a lycan. Whatever they have, it’s infectious. If I want to save my leg, or at least have a chance at surviving, I have to take measures to reduce the likelihood of an infection,” you say. Now Alcina is slowly stroking her thumb across your hand, eyes narrowed with concern. There’s a look on her face that you can’t quite parse, something she’s not saying. For now you ignore it and continue going over your plan. “The best thing would be to amputate. The tourniquet might have helped prevent the saliva from getting further into my body- and I do mean might- but I can’t keep it on forever. Problem is… I don’t want to lose it. God, I’m terrified of that, and with what we have in the castle I… I’d be more likely to die of shock than not. So, well, forget that idea.

“I’m just going to remove the wound. By making a bigger wound. It’s crazy, I know, but this will kill me if we do nothing. It will probably kill me if we do. The technical term is some shit like ‘de-bride-ing’?... No, debridement, I think. Except normally the poor fucker getting cut open is asleep for the procedure.” By the time you’re done, Lady Dimitrescu is looking at you with horror. Yeah, you had a feeling she wouldn’t appreciate the idea. “Look, if this is too much… if it’s not worth saving me, if you’d rather give me a quick death, I understand. If I were-”

“Don’t be foolish, dear. You will not die, not as long as something can be done about it,” Alcina replies, quickly, eager to stop hearing you talk about dying. It’s… strange to hear her sound so confident about saving you, even stranger to realize what she called you. As if reading your thoughts, she shifts in her seat, avoiding your gaze for a moment. Shyness didn’t suit her, and you imagined it was more about her finding the right words. When she speaks, she’s looking right at you again. “I have hesitated to tell you the truth, and now I find the world playing a cruel trick on me, trying to take that which I adore. But I don’t want to aggravate your stress right now. Please, think nothing of what I have said.”

Before you could reply, footsteps reached your ears, and soon enough Daniela returns. In one hand she holds a large pitcher of water. In the other? Several knives, of various sizes, one of which you’re pretty sure you’ve seen Cassandra playing with before. As soon as you see her your face lights up, glad to be able to start the procedure.

“Oh thank fuck- or, I mean, thank you, Lady Daniela,” you stutter, reaching out as she offers you the items. Thankfully Bela had already made room on the table at your side, where she had set the bottle of alcohol down. For a moment you had forgotten that she was there. Had she already known about her mother’s feelings? Based on her lack of reaction, you could only assume that she was well aware. “I’m gonna scream, B-T-dubs. Just, uh, cover your ears?” You offer, already holding your chosen knife (big enough to be effective, small enough to offer precision).

“So… you’re going to do this yourself? Didn’t think you had it in you, red. Try not to cut anything important. Wouldn’t want to have to clean that mess up,” Daniela teases. As soon as she’s finished she has to shift into a swarm, as Bela flat out throws a knife at her. For a moment you freeze, watching as Alcina rises to her full height, staring her eldest daughter down. Behind her, Daniela reforms, clearly using her mother as a shield. “I was just trying to relieve the tension, jeez. It’s like you think she’s already dead.”

“Don’t speak another word!” Alcina snaps, sending a frightening stare towards Daniela. You cough, awkwardly, not knowing what to do. Meanwhile Bela is pinching the bridge of her nose between two fingers, clearly tired of dealing with her sister’s sense of humor. “No one will speak a word until this is finished, unless my dear needs something, understood?” Both the girls nod at that, neither feeling a need to risk any further ire.

“I’m just going to start working now,” you awkwardly chime, taking a deep breath before leaning in towards your injured leg. On closer inspection you can see a strange, dark residue in the wound. They’re specks, scattered along the length of it, and they seem more common the closer you look to the gash’s center. Gross, you think. Half curious, half checking for legitimate reasons, you bring your other hand to the cut and gently spread both sides apart. It hurts like hell, and you have to bite down on your lip to stop yourself from screaming. But sure enough, the residue is practically solid at the deepest point of the wound. “Those lycans really should be on leashes.”

Out of the corner of your eye you can see Daniela exchange looks with Bela, but neither of them disobey their mother (yet). Shaking the thought away, you finally get to the brunt of the task at hand. Your hand moves slowly, reluctant to inflict such damage against its own body. As soon as the tip of the knife touches your skin, you start to doubt your ability to do this. It takes looking at Alcina, seeing the way she watches you with equal parts concern and tenderness, to remind you why you’re doing this. Death just wasn’t something you could accept right now; not after what she had said, what she had implied.

The knife is fantastically sharp. Hardly any pressure is needed before your flesh gives away, cells letting go of their neighbors like it was a casual affair. You start at the left side of your injury, digging down a little, trying to only go as deep as you needed to. Tears formed in your eyes but you quickly blinked them away. As the first of many screams leaves your mouth, you turn and twist the knife, cutting to the right, then up. Like scooping the seeds out of a pumpkin. Fresh blood springs from the wound, starting to fill up the crevice. Quickly you discard the skin you removed by tossing it into the same bowl that Bela had put a bloody towel in earlier.

“Yes,” you shudder through gritted teeth, “this hurts so fucking bad. No, I don’t need someone to take over yet.” At this point neither of the present sisters are looking at you, seeming oddly uncomfortable at the sight of you cut up like this. Hadn’t they done worse to your fellow Maidens?... Whatever, the thought couldn’t last long when you still had work to do.

Next you take a fresh, damp cloth and dab at your injury, ignoring how it throbbed beneath your touch. Then you resumed cutting, forced to press the knife deeper in order to remove the spreading residue. If you had been a scientist, this would have been utterly fascinating to observe. Whatever had been in the lycan’s saliva was slowly eating at your flesh, but not outright dissolving it. No, it simply left the skin where it was, but killed and rapidly broke it down. Yes, it would have been fascinating, if not for the fact that there was a chance you wouldn’t be able to outpace the bacteria.

With this in mind you force yourself to hold in your next scream, hoping to make it easier for you to focus. The knife continued to cut, going lower, setting nerves alight as it did. Your vision starts to blur, and for a few seconds you think you’re going to black out. Someone says something you don’t hear, and then suddenly there’s a hand on top of your own. When your vision clears you see Bela is responsible, her grip keeping you from dropping the knife. She doesn’t let go until you give her a clear nod. Even then, she seems reluctant to let you continue.

Around this time is when Cassandra returns. Her footsteps catch your attention (it’s your understanding that carrying objects is much harder in swarm mode), and you spare her a quick glance before getting back to work. A few moments later she’s placing a set of needles and a long spool of thread next to you. Ironically, they’re the same tools that you’ve used to repair and adjust Alcina’s dresses over the past year. Hopefully they work just as well on flesh, you think. Your next thoughts are canceled out by unbelievable pain. More cries leave your lips, and your hand starts shaking. Panic is settling in fast, your movements getting sharper, leading you to make a brash decision: Time to care less about precision and more about speed.

“Distract me, please,” you gasp between grunts. No one responds at first, and you know they need clarification. Speaking is getting harder by the second, but you do your best. “Brain can’t process many stimulants, same time. Just- fuck- trace skin around wound, touch hair, anything.” Somewhere between your semi-broken sentences and screams, Alcina gets the message. She’s moving closer, now, behind you, one arm wrapping around your waist, the other rubbing gentle circles on your undamaged leg. Across from you Daniela is too busy pacing to help, though you can hardly blame her.

“Should I get the metal thing from the stove?” Cassandra asks, silently hoping that Dani hadn’t assumed someone else was going to handle that part. You’re still in too much pain to talk, so you half nod half grunt in response. Not bothering to say anything, the middle child takes off, swarm moving at what might be a new speed record.

As much as your hands are shaking, you still manage to cut away another strip of flesh, tossing it aside with even less care than before. This time Bela wipes the wound for you, practically reading your mind. The moment her hands are completely out of the way you start cutting again, crying out, throat shredded to pieces from all your screaming. Alcina sounds like she might be close to sobbing, but she doesn’t stop her movements, doing her best to distract you just like you had asked. Even Bela helps, now, tracing spots around your injury whenever she knows she won’t be in your way. The effect is minor, in the end, hardly making a dent in how much pain you’re processing.

If you survive this, though, you’re hugging every daughter as tight as you can and showering them with affection… but only after you finish doing the same for their mother.

“You are so brave,” Alcina murmurs next to your ear. It’s even clearer now how close she is to crying, her voice seconds away from cracking. Hearing her like this almost hurts as bad as the initial lycan attack did. “You are so strong. No other mortal could ever be your match. Do you understand, my dear? You are blessed, divine, and I love you so much.”

In any other setting, her words would leave you melting in her arms, radiating affection so strongly that you might as well have been radioactive. Instead, you are unable to respond, or even look her way. All you can do is press the knife to your skin again, showing your own feelings by destroying yourself for her.

The blade is starting to find more resistance, and you’re having to pause more often, spots appearing in your vision. Going faster only makes things worse, your hand threatening to slip. You’re determined to finish this, no matter what, but your need to control the situation is gradually making things worse. Alcina notices this before you do, and acts before you have a chance to protest.

“Bela, the knife,” she says, then tightens her grip on your waist. Your confusion shifts to panic as your arm is carefully, but forcefully, pulled away from your wound. “Can you finish the job?” It takes you a few moments to realize that Alcina isn’t talking to you. No, she’s speaking to her eldest daughter, who doesn’t hesitate to take the knife away from you. It’s so easy for her, between her strength and your weakness. “Don’t struggle. Let us finish this.”

Protests rise from your throat and die in your mouth. Pain flares harder now that Bela isn’t distracting you. Once more your vision goes dark, but this time there’s no pause, no hesitation. You are suffering, horribly, and the Dimitrescu family refuses to make you hurt longer than necessary. It’ll be over soon, you think, not knowing whether you refer to your pain or your life itself.

Something wet drops onto the back of your neck, then darkness overtakes you…

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

“Damn those lycans, I should string Heisenberg up myself! They’re his responsibility, after all,” Lady Dimitrescu snarls, trying to ignore the tears in her eyes. Now that you’re unconscious, unable to hear what ails her, she feels free to voice her thoughts. “The damn things should never have come close to the path to the village.”

“What if she strayed from the path? Wouldn’t that explain it?” Bela suggests, even as her hands work to remove what seems to be the last piece of dead/infected flesh from your leg. She hates how the words feel in her mouth, hates suggesting that you of all people might have betrayed her mother’s trust. But it makes sense. After all, this whole mess, with you leaving the castle to retrieve a mysterious package, was all a test to see if you would try to run. It hadn’t been her idea, and Bela admitted to herself that she thought it was unnecessary.

“On the way back? Why would she bother getting the package if she intended to run?” Lady Dimitrescu asks, right as Cassandra returns. The middle child is practically juggling the metal spatula she’s carrying, irritated (not harmed) by the heat it produced. One of her brows perks up when she hears the conversation, but she keeps any thoughts she has to herself.

“Just a thought, mother, I didn’t quite believe it myself,” Bela chimes, after a pause. With that said she holds up her hand with pride, clutching between her fingers the last of the decaying flesh. The way the others react, one might have thought that a miracle had been performed. Daniela clapped her hands together, giggling a little, and finally stopped her pacing. “Don’t celebrate too much, now,” Bela reminded her, taking the spatula from Cassandra as she did. “There’s still plenty to do. It’s a good thing she’s not awake for this part.”

A good thing, indeed. She uses her fingers to spread the remaining skin a little, giving a quick examination, then deciding that she had successfully removed all remaining residue. Keeping her fingers where they were, she pressed the side of the spatula to your skin, putting the most pressure at the center of the wound. Three seconds passed, then she lifted her hand. A pause. She pressed it back into place, keeping a close eye on the affected area. This repeated several times, the gaps being necessary to prevent unintentional damage. Once the wound seemed properly closed she set the spatula aside.

“Is that it?... Did we save her?” Daniela asks, opting to finally sit down in a nearby chair. Something about her word choice makes both of her sisters scoff.

“I could sew it closed, as a precaution, but there’s no way I’d do it the way she had intended. It might be best to just give her time to rest, and see what she thinks when she gets back up,” Bela answers. For a moment her words hang in the air, but eventually Alcina gives a little nod and a hum.

“Very well. I shall carry her to my quarters, where she won’t be disturbed. Please, let one of the Maidens know to bring some food up this evening,” Alcina says, gently taking you into her arms as she does…

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

BAD ENDING: It’s been six hours, with no sign of you waking up. Your other wounds had been examined, cleaned, and bandaged. Food had been carefully prepared and brought up to you, though it now remained on the bedside table, untouched. Alcina has gone to call Mother Miranda, intending to speak to her about the growing unrest of the lycans, as Heisenberg hadn’t answered his phone. For the first time since you returned you are alone. It is now, of all times, that you awaken. A gasp sends you into a coughing spree, forcing you into a sitting position. The space around you feels like it's moving, and your vision blurs. Blood spills from your mouth as you finally regain the ability to breathe.

Seconds later your vision clears, but what you see is enough to make you wish you couldn’t. The blood that spilled onto the sheets is a dark red… with even darker spots scattered throughout it. All at once you know what happened: Residue had hidden from you, or gone deeper than your wound, infecting you before you ever stood a chance. Tears threaten to spill from your eyes, but something deeper starts calling to you. Something older. Darker. It drags you to your feet, ignores the pain of your wounds, and sends you out the bedroom door.

Your mind is racing, thoughts never quite clear enough for you to understand. It doesn’t feel like you’re in control of your own movements. Was something else in charge, or were you operating on an infection powered autopilot? Answers weren’t coming, just bloodshed.

“You’re not supposed to be out of bed yet!” A voice calls out to you, making you turn to investigate. On the other end of the hallway is a maiden, one you instantly recognize. You’ve worked with her before, plenty of times, tag-teaming more tasks than you could count. She was like a sister to you. When she sees the blood staining your clothes, she gasps, then moves to support you. “Please, Lady Dimitrescu will be so upset if you-” her words melt into a blood curdling scream. For a moment you don’t understand.

And then you swallow, a chunk of hot meat slipping down your throat, and the scream dies down.

“What?...” You whisper, finally tasting the blood in your mouth, watching as your friend’s body falls to the floor. There’s a chunk of flesh missing from her neck, and the dots connect themselves in your head. You did that. Every part of you wants to scream, wants to cry out and beg someone to come kill you. Instead you fall to your knees, hard, uncaring. Your hands move themselves, grasping at the still warm corpse. Something has made you stronger, or at the very least removed the mental limits that kept you from destroying yourself. Flesh gives under your touch, tearing like paper, and you start crying as it reaches your mouth.

Footsteps approach, thundering fast, and you want to warn whoever it is. When you turn to look, you feel your hands let go of your meal. Your gaze meets that of a stunned Cassandra Dimitrescu, then drifts to the sickle in her hand.

“Kill me,” you growl, voice distorted, practically echoing. “Kill me now!” Not needing to be told a third time, Cassandra moves lightning quick, swarm-jumping forward before manifesting behind you, sickle dragging across your throat in one smooth motion. But it’s not enough. She realizes this, though, and slams her foot into your back, sending you tumbling forward. It’s enough to prevent you from countering, which gives her time to advance again, this time pulling a knife from her boot and driving it into the center of your back. When you scream, it’s not with your own voice, but that of a monster.

“Fucking fuck, what the fuck, red?” Daniella asks as she rounds the corner, eyes immediately landing on your bloodsoaked mouth. She’s quick to take in the scene, drawing a conclusion easily, even if it breaks her heart a little. Your vision fades as she approaches, and you know that it’s finally over. If only you had expired a few seconds earlier… because the last thing you hear is the startled cry of your would-be lover.

“No! No, darling, what happened-” Alcina finishes her sentence, but you do not hear it. You do not hear anything, anymore. You do not know it… but there will be hell to pay for your death.

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

GOOD ENDING: When you awake, you find yourself in the softest sheets you’ve ever touched, a warm and familiar presence next to you. The first thing you see is Alcina’s sleeping face next to your own. She’s on her side, one arm around your waist, the covers pulled up to her hip. Warmth fills your chest as you take in the sight. For a few moments you just… appreciate this. Never before had you imagined that you would get to wake up next to the woman you loved so much. A sigh, one of bliss, leaves your lips. Slowly you move forward, gently placing a kiss to Alcina’s cheek. Seconds later her eyelids flutter open, and she tiredly takes you in.

“You’re… awake,” she murmurs, hardly awake herself. But her fatigue doesn’t last long. As soon as she’s fully processed the situation her eyes go wide. Then she’s pulling you closer, careful not to hurt you, and peppering little kisses over your face. “I’ve been so worried, dear. You scared us so much.” The hurt in her voice leaves you restless, making you curl up against her, desperate to soothe her worries. Moving hurts a little, but not enough to dissuade you from your goal.

“I’m sorry, love,” you say, tears pricking your eyes. “I’m okay, I’m alive, the plan worked out. You don’t have to fret for me anymore. I won’t leave you, I promise.” Slowly but surely, Alcina calms, exchanging kisses for softly running her fingers through your hair. There’s such love in her eyes that you can hardly believe you aren’t dreaming. “You’re amazing, Alcina. I could stay like this all day.”

“Maybe we should,” she offers, chuckling a little. Once again you give her a quick kiss, unable to resist the urge. “I should have never asked you to leave. I should have just trusted you.” The words give you pause, and you tilt your head in confusion. Realizing that you still didn’t know the full story, Alcina frowns. “The package is worthless, just a bundle of straw and a few rocks for weight. It was never what I cared about.”

Tension builds in your chest, and for a few seconds you have no idea how to react. It takes a minute for you to think, to connect the dots, but once you do it’s a tad bit easier to breathe. A scowl twists your lips as you think of what to say.

“If I had known that Heisenberg was forgoing his duties, I never would have sent you outside,” Alcina adds, the silence taking its toll on her.

“You shouldn’t have sent me either way,” you respond, bitterly, thinking of all that you had seen and heard on your journey. “I would have done anything to prove to you how I feel. There are other ways to show devotion- far less dangerous ways, at that.”

“I know, dear. You have every right to be angry… and watching you suffer has taught me all that I need to know,” Alcina says, still playing with your hair, trying to ease the tension. As upset as you about this recent revelation… it’s not enough to change how you feel about her, and you want her to understand that, fully and completely.

So you lean into her touch, let your eyes drift close for a moment, then softly place one of your arms around her as best as you can.

“We’ll need to talk about this more… just not right now. Right now, I need you, Alcina. I need to hold you, and be held by you, and just know that you’re here. That I’m here. That neither of us are going anywhere,” you say, resting your forehead against hers. “I need to feel safe, and your arms are the safest place I can imagine. Stay here with me?”

“It will be the easiest thing I have ever done.”

#alcina dimitrescu #lady dimitrescu #alcina x reader #lady dimitrescu x reader #tw blood #tw self harm #tw cannibalism #blood blood blood oops #I wrote this instead of sleeping because my hands cannot be stopped #typeity type type type #sorry if the formatting is off #i'm trying the new editor or whatever #if it's fucked I'll fix it whenever I wake up

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talesofstyles · 4 years ago

Text

Reconcile

happy christmas eve, you lot! i’ve got a little present for you. enjoy this 10,5k of nearly divorced harry trying to win his wife and bitter nine year old daughter back. oh and i threw in a little baby goat in the mix too since it’s set in the peak district and i just couldn’t resist 🥳

“Penny for your thoughts.”

He turned to look at her, who was giggling as she leaned closer to him. She was most definitely not a giggler sober, but he found out that a copious amount of alcohol could turn her into one. He felt slightly guilty knowing that she was going to be hungover as hell in the morning, but she was having a great time.

And so was he.

“I was just thinking about how great you are, how lucky I am to be sitting next to you right now and that you need to drink more water because otherwise, you’d be miserable tomorrow,” he says with a smile as he twisted the cap and handed her the bottle of water.

That goofy smile of hers turned into a gooey smile of affection. “That’s so sweet,” she murmured, taking a gulp of water and handed the bottle back to him so he could take some too. She then tilted her head, giving him a doe-eyed look and asked, “what else do you like about me?”

“Let’s see,” he put a finger to his chin and tapped. “Well, I love how kind and inclusive you are, how you always care about people and that you always see the good in everyone.”

Her smile grew sappier.

“Oh,” he gave her a sly grin. “I also love that thing you do with your tongue on the underside of my cock.”

She burst out laughing. But then she leaned even closer to him and whispered huskily in his ear, “I’ll do that very thing when we get back to the hotel.”

His eyes widened and he wanted nothing more than just to drag her back to their hotel suite and take up on her offer. But he’d promised her that he’d show her around Vegas since she’d never been before, and he wanted to keep that promise.

“Wanna know what I like about you?” She turned to him, still with a gooey smile on her face.

“Do I ever,” he smirked.

“I like that you’re hands down the kindest human I’ve ever met,” she began. “You’re genuine, and grounded. Funny too. I truly hit the jackpot with you. I’m the luckiest girl on earth.”

“Oh,” she added as an afterthought. “And you’re really good with your tongue.”

He wanted to laugh, because she always made him laugh. But he was still stuck on the fact that she thought she was lucky to be with him. He felt exactly the same way about her, like this was always meant to be.

“I wasn’t looking for this,” he admitted honestly. “I know it’s only been six weeks, but I really can’t imagine never having met you.”

“Me too,” her eyes were bright, shining with excitement. “It’s weird, right? Because I swear I’ve never felt such a deep connection with someone this quick.”

“Do you believe in soulmates?” He murmured. “That there’s a perfect person for everyone out there?”

She tilted her head. “Do you think that’s us?”

There was no hesitation in his answer. “I do think that might be us.”

“I think so too,” she said with a tender smile.

This was real.

He was overwhelmed with the understanding that she was his, and he never wanted to let her go.

So he suggested what any sane, semi-drunk man would at that moment. “We’re in Vegas. We should get married.”

***

Harry

Pulling into the drive of what used to be our holiday cottage, but is now where my wife and children live full-time without me, feels strange to me. There’s that moment of what feels like a homecoming—that sense of belonging somewhere where I feel safe, and I know my happiness is inside.

But now, for the first time in ten years, there’s a sense of detachment that I know I’ve got to put in place. It is why I need to take a moment or two in the car before I walk inside to sort myself out and put on a shield. A shield which lets me walk inside, and be okay with the fact that I don’t live there anymore even just for the holidays.

This charming little cottage, which can’t exactly be called little since it is quite spacious and has three bedrooms, has always been more of a second home rather than a holiday home for us. We used to come here often, sometimes even only for the weekends. I’ve always loved this place. Now, looking back, I realised that many of the happiest times during our marriage were spent in this home.

It was where we spent the first few weeks soaking in newlywed bliss after that whirlwind of a trip to Las Vegas when we decided out of nowhere to tie the knot. Then there were the sleepless nights with a wailing newborn, because even though both of our babies were born in London, we always whisked them off here to Bakewell shortly after so we were close enough that both sets of their grandparents could dote on them during the first few weeks of their lives.

After I exit the car, I walk up to the front door and ring the doorbell. I don’t feel comfortable walking in as I respect that this is YN’s sanctuary now. The wait isn’t long, because in just a few seconds, the door is opened and there’s my wife, looking like a breath of fresh air.

It had been eight long months since the last time I saw her. Last time was the night when she asked me to leave our marital home, and I fled to LA first thing the next morning. I talked daily with the kids on the phone, but I didn’t really recall ever getting the chance to talk to her aside from the quick polite greetings before she handed her phone to the kids.

“Hey,” she says, her expression a bit guarded. I’ve missed her so much that it takes everything in me to keep myself from pulling her into my arms and kiss the fuck out of her. “Come in.”

“You alright?” I ask her as I follow her into the house. This may sound like I’m just making a small talk, but I’m not. I’m genuinely curious and I want to know how she’s doing.

But she doesn’t even respond to my question. All I get is a head-tilt motioning towards the kitchen. “They’re in the kitchen.”

My gaze immediately lands on the accent table that holds a lot of photos and a key bowl. I silently let out a sigh of relief seeing YN hasn’t removed all of the family photos with me in it. It’s a good sign, but I don’t have much hope behind that. Maybe that’s just her trying to keep everything as normal as possible at home for the kids.

My wife and I never had a big fight when we separated. It had been somewhat rational, but still emotional, discussion. She wasn’t angry, she was just done. And I didn’t fight for her. Instead, yours truly here walked away the next morning and didn’t look back.

I’ve done a lot of dumb things in my life. But nothing ever compares to that. That was pretty fucking stupid on my part, and I know I’ll regret it for the rest of my life.

I’ve accepted that maybe this is my punishment for being a shit husband to a wonderful woman who doesn’t deserve to be treated like a second best. She did the right thing by kicking me to the curb, and I’d never resent her for it. If I could turn back time and change everything, I would in a heartbeat. I’d try harder to be a better husband, a better father, put my family first. But I can’t. Now all I can do is just try not to be a dickhead and make things harder for her than it already is. It’s too late for me to try to be a better husband, but it isn’t for me to try to be the best father that my children deserve.

I follow my wife through the living room and into the kitchen, and I’d be dead not to check out her arse in those leggings. It’s something I quickly avert my eyes from, though, as I realise both of my children are sitting at the kitchen island, eating scones with their tea.

George, my six-year-old, is the first to turn his head and hop off from the island stool to jump into my arms. “Daddeeeeee!”

“My Booger Butt,” I greet my little lad with a smile as I squat down to be on his level before scooping him up into my arms. Booger Butt is one of the countless nicknames I have for him, and one that never fails to make him double over in laughter whenever he hears it. He’s also Mr Tadpole Climbing a Beanpole sometimes, and he used to be Sir Screams-a-Lot when he was a baby. He thinks they’re hilarious, and he’d always respond by calling me Baddy Daddy.

“I‘ve missed you so much, Baddy Daddy,” he says sweetly as he nuzzles his head into the crook of my neck and I swear if I don’t pull myself together right this second, I’m going to cry.

“I’ve missed you more, mate,” I say as I ruffle his hair and kiss his cheek. “I love you.”

My daughter doesn’t seem fazed by the father and son reunion behind her and continues munching on her scone without even giving me a glance. With my left arm full of my son, I walk up to her and ruffle her hair just like I did with her little brother. “Hey Silly Putty Pudding Pie,” I greet her with one of her nicknames, hoping to get her to laugh. But she ignores me, taking a sip of her brew instead.

I don’t want to give up, so I lean to the side and bend to put my face close to hers. I try again, “hello to you too, poppet.”

“Whatever,” she mumbles around a mouthful of scone.

“Minnie,” YN growls, her tone filled with warning.

This is why I respect YN so much. I hurt her badly, broke her heart, and it would’ve been so easy for her to use Minnie as a pawn and turn my child against me. But every time, even on the phone, whenever she is present, she never let Minnie be disrespectful to me in any way.

My gaze moves to my wife—yes I’m still going to refer to her as my wife since she still is, albeit only on paper—and she gives me an apologetic look. I give a slight shake of my head, telling her silently to let it go.

She takes the last bite of her scone and puts the dish in the sink, before walking to the staircase without giving me a second glance. I can see YN trying to hold her tongue from further rebuking our daughter, and I give her a small smile, my silent way of telling her ‘it’s okay.’

“Sorry about that,” she mutters, referring to Minnie’s attitude. She grabs a mug from the cupboard, then holds it up in silent invitation. I nod, and she turns to the pot. “I can’t keep up with her mood shifts anymore.”

“It’s alright,” I tell her, willing to take my share of the blame. “I’m sure the shift has everything to do with me.”

“Not true,” she replies as she pours the coffee into our mugs, adding a splash of milk to hers but keeping mine just like that because she knows I take my coffee black. “She’s been like that with me as well and I’m not sure why. She’s only nine but she acts as if she’s thirteen already.”

I can’t help but laugh and turn to my little lad. “Can you be six forever?”

“No,” he says immediately without even taking a second to think.

“Just no?”

“No,” he gives me a toothy grin. “I want a lego city set but mummy said it’s for eight-year-olds. So I cannot wait to be eight.”

I set him on the counter and give him a conspiratorial smirk before I whisper to him. It’s a little too loud to be considered a whisper, but I want my wife to hear it. “Tell you what, we’ll get one of those sets tomorrow on our day out.”

His eyes light up instantly and my wife rolls her eyes jokingly, “I hear that.” Jokingly, because I know for sure she doesn’t mind me spoiling our children. She does it too.

“Where are you taking them tomorrow?”

“To your mum’s pudding shop for breakfast, then probably fishing, and the toys shop now apparently,” I tell her our itinerary. I have the kids for the whole day tomorrow since it’s Saturday. It’s bittersweet because I’ve missed my children and I can’t wait to spend time with them, but I’m also sad because what I wouldn’t give to turn tomorrow into a family day out instead. I know she would most likely decline, but I can’t help offer her, “would you like to come with us?”

She gives me a subtle shake of her head. “No thanks. Enjoy it, it’s your time with them.”

***

I’m renting a room above The Old Nags Head during my stay here. I plan to stay for a week before I have to go back to London, and even though the thought of having to leave my children again is killing me, I’m trying to cheer myself up by reminding myself that it’ll be Christmas soon enough and I’ll get to visit again.

But then I’ll have to leave again.

And visit again, but knowing in just a week or two, I would have to say goodbye to them again.

Fuck, this is killing me. I’m a family man through and through, and not being with them physically hurts. I shouldn’t be in this room sulking alone. I should be there in that home with my wife and children, probably helping Minnie and George with their homework or making dinner for all of us.

I was prepared to sulk some more, but then I heard a knock on the door. I was not expecting company so I’ve got no idea who it is, and I’m quite surprised when I see Jamie, YN’s brother as I open the door.

We were quite close, but now that I broke his little sister’s heart, I can’t tell if this is a pleasant visit or if he’s just here to knock me square on my arse.

“Got time for tea downstairs?” He asks

Honestly, I haven’t got any appetite. But I could use a few pints so I nod and lock the door behind me, following him downstairs to the pub.

The Old Nags Head is the oldest and most famous pub in Bakewell. The pub itself is a former smithy dating back to the 16th century, and certainly looks the part; thick stone walls, low ceilings, welcoming log fires and dark timber beams. The pub remains at the centre of the community, as it has been for hundreds of years. It offers the best classic pub grubs, and even has its own ale called the Nags 1577.

It’s the perfect place to drown my sorrows.

Except, the current owner of that very pub happens to be none other than my wife’s granddad whom everyone here calls Pop. Out of all members of her family, she is the closest to Pop, so I know for sure that I’m the last person he wants to see.

We sit at the bar table facing the window, which is good because Pop is behind the main bar, and this way I don’t have to actually talk to him.

“Ya want owt?” Jamie asks as he does a quick perusal of the menu. I’m not even sure why he bothers, because even I know what he’s going to order. It’s Pop’s signature steak and ale pie. Ten years of being his brother in law, not once I ever saw him order something else.

“Just a pint,” I tell him.

It doesn’t take long after Jamie orders his food and our drinks before two pints are placed before us, and we each take a savouring sip.

And then Jamie point-blank asks me, “so what did you do?”

I really can’t tell anything from his expression, because he keeps his face blank. But I give him a bark of mirthless laughter. “It’s what I didn’t do, mate. She didn’t say anything?”

“Not a word,” he shakes his head, “what didn’t you do?”

“I stopped paying attention to my wife. Got caught up in my career. The travelling for tours she understood, but it was when I was home and hanging out more with my bandmates than with my family that she couldn’t forgive. And what little time I had left, I gave to Minnie and George. I think I just stupidly assumed she would always be there for me, no matter what.”

“Was there any infidelity?” He asks.

“God, no,” I shake my head hard. “You know I’d never do that to your sister. I love her, and she’s more than enough for me.”

Obviously, I’m not going to tell him this, but ironically, our sex life didn’t diminish. We were combustible in bed, and my mistake was in thinking that was enough for her.

I look at the pudding shop right across the street as I take another sip, and I nearly choke on my beer when I see a familiar face walking out of the shop.

“What in the ever-loving fuck?” I growl.

That’s my wife, walking out of her mum’s pudding shop. She is not alone. There’s a guy with his hand pressed to her lower back while her head is tipped back, laughing at something he’s saying. I suddenly feel sick to my stomach when the bastard’s palm drops from my wife’s back to take her hand, lacing his fingers with hers. She smiles, all doe-eyed, as they walk to God knows where.

“What?” Jamie looks at me confused for a second, but then he follows my gaze and he finally sees what’s causing me distress. “Oh, that.”

“You knew about that?”

He nods. “She’s been seeing him for about three weeks now.”

“Fuck,” I mutter and pinch the bridge of my nose.

“She didn’t tell you?” Jamie asks and I shake my head.

“Three weeks you said?”

Jamie nods again. “He makes her happy.”

“I’m her husband,” I can’t help but say bitterly. “I should be the one making her happy.”

“Look, I’m sorry mate,” he offers, I know he’s trying his best to keep his tone neutral. “Maybe you need to get back in the dating game too. It’ll distract you.”

“I don’t want to fucking date anyone else,” I growl.

“I know it’s hard to get back in the saddle,” he adds sympathetically.

“I don’t want to get out of my current saddle,” I grumble. “I want to keep my current saddle with my wife in it.”

Jamie blinks in surprise, hell I’m even surprised at what I’ve just said out loud because I’ve never admitted this since we split. When YN asked me to leave, I assumed right away that my marriage was over. I didn’t want it to, but I thought there was nothing I could do.

But now, seeing her laughing at another man’s joke and his hand holding hers, I just know that I can’t let her go without a fight.

“Have you told her this?” He asks curiously.

I shake my head again. “We haven’t got the chance to have a civil conversation these days.”

“Then I suggest you stop being such a bloody whinge bucket and have a civil conversation with your wife.”

My shoulders immediately sag in defeat. “I know. I need to sit down with her and tell her how I feel.”

“Which is?” He presses.

“That I want her back,” I mutter.

“You’ve got to have a better plan than that,” he points out. “I mean… I’m not a marriage therapist, but I’m pretty sure that you’ve got to be prepared to fix the shit first.”

I can’t help but tilt my head towards the pudding shop where my wife had just walked out the door. “She’s moved on. You said it yourself that he makes her happy. Tell me how to compete with that.”

“Make her happier,” he says simply. I can only let out a heavy sigh, but I know that's solid advice. “Listen, if you really want to save your marriage, you need to make it work. Romance her again. Lots of flowers, nice romantic dinners out. Compliments, chocolates. All that sort of thing.”

“You think that’ll work?”

“I don’t know,” he answers truthfully. “But I do know that you’ll regret it for the rest of your life if you don’t do anything about it.”

***

My emotions are a mixed bag this morning. Don’t get me wrong, I’m excited to spend the whole day with my kids, but the fact that I have just learnt last night that my wife is currently seeing another man doesn’t sit right with me.

I know Jamie was right. If I want to save my marriage, I need to get my head out of my arse and do something to win my wife back. Sure, I don’t even know where to start since she doesn’t give me the time of day. But I do know that starting today, I’m a man on a mission. It’s Operation Conquer YN: day 1.

It’s currently 8:40am, which means I’m twenty minutes early. I hope the kids won’t be ready yet, so I’ll get a chance to talk for a little bit to my wife.

When I ring the doorbell, I can hear George pounding down the stairs, yelling, “I got it!”

The door flies open and he jumps into my arms right away. My little lad truly misses me, and it really does warm my heart. Now, I love my children equally, but before I got here yesterday, I thought Minnie would be the one to jump all over me since she’s a daddy’s girl through and through, while George has always been a mummy’s boy since the day he was born.

But again, I should’ve known. Since YN and I split, Minnie sort of puts herself in her mum’s corner. Every time I actually got the chance to talk to her on the phone when I was still in LA, it was always extremely short before she quickly handed her mum’s phone to her little brother. I try not to take her behaviour to heart, because I guess it’s what nine-year-olds do when they don’t quite understand why their parents aren’t together. They just need someone to blame, and my daughter is way more mature than her age. She’s bloody smart too, which she definitely takes after her mum, and I know that she knows it’s my fault that her mum and I separated.

Now that I think of it, it’s not just my wife that I desperately need to win back. But also my daughter.

“Daddy!” George chirps. He’s got a milk moustache and the sight never fails to get me to chuckle. “You’re early.”

“I know,” I reply with a tender smile. “I just can’t wait to spend the day with you lot.”

“I’m going to get ready!” He announces excitedly as he squirms in my arms wanting to be put down, and he runs up the stairs before I can even reply.

I look around, and my gaze lands on the sofa, a hazel leather sofa that YN picked out. It’s so comfy and I could nap there forever.

Then there’s the coffee table, where YN, Minnie, George and I sat around and played board games. Catan is our family’s favourite, followed closely by Monopoly.

The corner where we always put the Christmas tree, right next to the fireplace. And every year it didn’t matter how hard I tried, I could never get the bloody thing to stay straight.

I miss this little cottage. Sure, the house in South Kensington is our marital house, but this cosy little cottage in the middle of nowhere feels more like home to me. And now I truly get why YN was so adamant to move here permanently after we separated, didn't matter how hard I tried to persuade her to stay in London.

“You’re early,” my wife blinks in surprise, but quickly masks it. “Minnie darling, go and get ready.”

“Do I really have to go?” My nine-year-old whines and I feel a pang. She really doesn’t want to spend time with me.

“Minnie, that’s not nice,” YN reprimands her before I can stop her.

“I’ve missed you, poppet,” I say, wanting to look at her in the eyes but she refuses to meet my gaze. Which hurts, but it’s fine. I know it’ll take some time for her to warm up to me. “I want to spend the day with you and your brother. I promise I’ll try to make it fun for you both.”

“Fine,” she replies, before marching up the stairs to her room. There’s still a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but at least I didn’t get a heavy sigh. I know it’s a small win but honestly, it’s better than none.

“Coffee’s in the pot,” she tells me politely from where she’s sitting at the island. She has her laptop open before her, and I can see her writing an email. I bet she’s working today, even if it’s Saturday, because my wife is such a hard-worker. She works remotely for a consulting firm and I’m beyond proud of her.

I nod and pour the coffee, and I let the silence carry on for a bit before saying, “saw you getting cosy with your new boyfriend last night.”

She instantly looks up from her laptop, giving me a death glare. Her tone is defensive when she says, “that’s none of your business.”

“You could’ve at least told me that you were seeing someone,” I tell her, making elaborate gestures with my coffee mug.

“Why would I do that?” She retorts defensively. “Last time I checked, you didn’t give a shit about me when we were married. Why on earth would I assume you do now?”

Hearing that, it feels like Chuck Norris himself just kicked me in the nuts. I can only mutter, “we’re still married.”

“Not for long,” she replies faintly.

“Don’t say that,” I say, my breath a little jagged. “We can still fix this, darling. I know we can.”

“Are you mad?” She snaps, but then she takes a deep breath, and her tone is a lot calmer when she adds, “Harry, it’s too late.”

“No, it’s not. It’s never too late to get our marriage back on track,” I plead desperately. “Would you at least give me a shot?”

“What do you mean?” She frowns.

“You can continue to see Mr Wife-stealer-”

“He’s not a wife-stealer,” she snaps, cutting me off. “He’s got a name.”

“Well, he’s stealing my wife,” I grumble like a stroppy child.

“You’re being such a child,” she retorts. “His name is Luke, he’s a decent guy, and he makes me happy.”

“I’m not afraid to go head to head with him,” I say defiantly.

“Fuck’s sake, Harry, we’re not on a bloody Love Island,” she says in exasperation. “Two children are involved here, this isn’t a game.”

“I know it isn’t,” I reply with a sigh. “Just please give me another shot, darling. Let me remind you how great we were together.”

“You mean the sex?” She demands, one side of her upper lip curls in a sneer.

I bend my head and murmur, “we were dynamite in the sack, weren’t we?”

I see the flash in her eyes as she remembers, and it makes me want to beat my chest in victory. But the euphoric feeling is short-lived when she says, “a relationship is so much more than just sex. If you don’t understand it then-”

“I do, fuck, I do know that,” I cut her off in a strangled, desperate voice. “At least let me try, darling. Fuck if I’m letting you go without a fight.”

We lapse into silence as she gives me a sceptical look, and I know in this moment that my biggest challenge is to regain her trust, as well as accepting the fact that she has someone else fighting for her attention.

I know this will be tough, because I let her down over and over again. And worse, I let my children down too, because I was never quite able to make my family my highest priority. It was all my fault, I knew it then, still do now. That’s why when she asked me to leave, I couldn’t even argue. I was a shit husband and father, and I deserved that.

Trying to win Minnie is probably going to be the easiest because beneath this ‘tweenage’ attitude going on, I know she is a sweet girl who loves her daddy. I need to devote more attention to her, maybe take her on some daddy-daughter dates. I know it’ll work because I’ve never given her enough on a consistent basis.

YN is going to be the most difficult, because I really broke her heart. I’ve been married to her for ten years, so I can say with confidence that I know for sure she would never fall for things like flowers or gifts. I have to show her that I genuinely want to fix our marriage, and that my interest in her is real. It’ll be like starting all over again.

And on top of that, she’s seeing someone else and she said it herself that he does make her happy. I know she’s not lying about it, as Jamie also told me the same thing last night and I saw with my own eyes how she laughed with him last night. Seeing that killed me, because I don’t have the ability to make her laugh like that anymore, but I couldn’t deny that there was a small part of me that was happy for her.

She may have sneered when I insinuated I’d be glad to remind her of the good times, but I saw it in her eyes. There was still a slight burn, and that might just have to be my angle.

But then I remember our last time together. It was only two days before she asked me to leave and I remember coming home mid-morning after a meeting with my manager and publicist to find her lying in our bed, clad in sexy lingerie. I had my mouth on every inch of her, a good deal of time between her legs, and after she reciprocated by taking me into her mouth.

The kids were in school, and apparently, she took a sick day because I had told her the night before that I only had one meeting in the morning that day. After, she cuddled in close, and we talked for a while. She seemed happy, but then there was a hint of hesitation in her voice when she suggested, “fancy just spending all day in bed until school pick-ups?”

I mean, what man in his right mind would say no to that? The kids were gone for at least another five hours, I had a gorgeous wife naked and wanting more of what we just did…

Yet, I’d said no. “Sorry, doll. I’m meeting the lads at the studio in about an hour.”

I didn’t see it then, but I do now and it’s clear as day. The look on her face had been blank, and there wasn’t even disappointment like she would usually show me. She hadn’t tried to get me to change my mind. There hadn’t been a guilt-laden frown to give me pause.

I realise now what it was.

It was the moment my wife finally gave up on me.

My chest constricts as it finally dawns on me the pain she must have been feeling. I’m not just talking about that day. That had been our life for several years.

No wonder she asked me to leave.

No wonder she’s moving on with Mr Wife-stealer.

No wonder that, at this moment, I realise I’ve got tons of work to do because sex isn’t going to be the answer in winning my wife back.

***

“Will the baby just eat when you give it the bottle?” Minnie asks her uncle Jamie as the four of us gaze at the baby goat in front of us. For the first time since yesterday, I actually see the slight curve up of lips that form a fond smile. Seeing that smile on my daughter’s face, I’m glad we didn’t go fishing and end up going to the barn instead. We were actually already on our way, but Jamie texted me that the mother goat had given birth this morning, and he wanted me to tell Minnie and George. The goats are a new addition to the farm, so they have been so excited to see baby goats. I knew from the look in their eyes that they would have a much better time seeing baby goats rather than fishing.

It turns out that there’s only one baby goat, because the other one sadly didn’t make it. And the dam isn’t producing milk, so the kid needs to be bottle-fed until the mother is producing again. I can’t help but smile fondly at the baby goat too because it’s adorable. It’s a soft little white goat with a pink nose and ears. The dam is a Pygmy but since it has blue eyes, Jamie thinks she must have Nigerian Dwarf genes somewhere in her.

“It’s a female… a doeling,” Jamie tells her. “And she will if she’s hungry. You want to try to feed her? Look, she’s hungry again.”

We watch for a moment as the baby goat walks on wobbly legs, bleating in hunger. Jamie mixes the powdered formula and makes a bottle for her, then he hands the bottle to Minnie.

But Minnie shakes her head. “Maybe next time. I want to see you do it first.”

“Alright then,” Jamie nods, then turns towards my little lad. “How about you, mate? Wanna feed her?”

“No thank you,” says George as he shakes his head, and then he giggles, “she smells funny.”

“Can I do it?” I ask and Jamie nods as he hands me the bottle.

I sit down against the wall with my children sitting on either side of me. And as if the goat can sense that I hold the key to filling her empty belly, the doeling starts to prance in excitement and falls over a few times due to what I assume is clumsiness. I love that she can walk normally but still choose chaos—honestly, she could’ve been my third child. There’s no stopping the surge of fondness that swells within me as I watch her little antics.

“Come here little crumpet,” I coo at the goat.

The little goat scrambles right onto my lap, bleating hungrily. I wrap my arm around her and tip the bottle. She latches on instantly, and Minnie and George are aww-ing and ooh-ing over the way the baby goat’s little tail swishes back and forth so fast in ecstatic happiness as she drinks her milk.

“You’re a hungry little thing, aren’t you?” Minnie murmurs and the little tail swishes faster as she pushes at the bottle to suck the milk down faster. “What’s her name, uncle Jamie?”

“I haven’t named her yet,” Jamie says. “What do you lot think we should call her?”

“Blue,” George suggests instantly, without looking away from the baby goat on my lap.

“Ooh, I like it,” Minnie adds. “Like her eyes.”

“Blue it is, then,” Jamie grins. “Now, even though the dam is still not producing milk, we still need to train her to at least try to nurse, so she’ll do it right away when the dam is finally producing milk. Let’s see if we can get her to try to eat from the dam.”

He plucks the baby from my arms, and a series of yearning bleats come from the kid as he carries her to her mother. He places her near the dam’s udders and gives the baby a gentle push.

Much to our surprise, Blue spins away from Jamie and her mother and runs back to me. Although in all fairness, I am holding the bottle she was just drinking from. Jamie attempts three more times to get the baby to try to nurse from her mother, but she’s having none of it.

Finally, he takes the bottle from me and walks across to the opposite wall. He sits down, holds the bottle out, and calls to the doeling. “Come here, baby. Come eat.”

Blue’s tail gives a few nervous twitches, but she doesn’t move towards Jamie. In fact, she takes a few hesitant steps backwards until she bumps into my legs. I’m amazed as I watch her stare hungrily at the bottle, bleating hungrily, but refusing to go to Jamie.

“Daddy, she thinks you’re her mummy,” says George and both my children burst in laughter.

“What?” I say in astonishment.

“I don’t think that doeling is going to feed from anyone but you,” Jamie adds with a chuckle as he stands up. He walks over and hands me the bottle. Blue jumps directly into my lap.

On autopilot, I offer the goat the nipple but look up to Jamie in panic. “What should we do?”

“Dunno, I’ll just try and do it when she’s hungry again in a few hours,” he shrugs. “But if she still doesn’t wanna eat, I’ll bring her to you.”

Any last vestiges of humour, happiness and downright giddiness over the cuteness of a baby goat fades as I realise I might or might not have just added another task to my list. Heavens help me.

***

“Let’s have a daddy and daughter date tomorrow.”

It’s a solid suggestion, and I really hope she’d say yes. Her little brother has his classmate’s birthday party to go to, so I know it’d be perfect for a little one-on-one time.

We’re on our way back home after spending a whole day together. It was great, and even though I didn’t have happy-go-lucky Minnie, George had a great time, and it was enough for me. And at least she didn’t ask to go home early, so I’d call that a win.

“No, thanks,” she replies. There’s still not a hint of sulkiness in her tone, but it doesn’t sound technically warm either.

I glance over through the rear-view mirror as she stares out the window with her arms folded. Her brother is sleeping next to her, and I figured this might be a good time to talk since she’s trapped in the car with me.

Everyone always says that Minnie is a mini-me, while George is a carbon-copy of his mum. Minnie has my nose, eyebrows, chin, even my smile; which is slightly lopsided and has a dimple on one side. I know I’m biased, but she truly is the most beautiful little girl I’ve ever seen.

Where Minnie shines, though, is her personality, which is a combination of her mum and me. She has her mum’s sunny disposition—aside from the days where she’s got a bag on—and always sees the good in everyone. She’s our little ray of sunshine, tender and caring and always trying to make others feel good.

From me, she gets her stubbornness, which even though I know is a good trait to have when she’s older, it made things so much harder when she was a toddler. She also has my terrible sense of humour, but the thing I’m most proud of is her work ethic. I can’t take full credit for that though, because her mother is a hard worker as well.

Ever since she started distancing herself from me, I know which subjects are safe, and which are not. School always falls in the safe category, because she enjoys it and excels. So I figure now that’s where I should start. “How’s school going?”

“Alright,” she replies, still looking out the window.

Now, this really doesn’t sound at all like my daughter.

“Come on, Min,” I say desperately. “Tell daddy what’s been eating you. I can’t help if I don’t know what it is.”

“It’s nothing, I’m fine,” she says absently.

“Do you want to go and get some ice cream with me tomorrow?” That was our thing at least once every two weeks and she loved it.

“No, thank you.”

“Ice skating?”

“No, thank you.”

“Oh I know,” I say excitedly. “I’ve got a show in London in a couple of weeks, Jingle Ball. Do you want to come with me?”

Minnie has always been my biggest fan, clapping the hardest and yelling the loudest for her daddy. So it really takes me by surprise when she mutters, “shows, shows, shows… that’s all you care about, dad.”

I twist to peer out my window so she doesn’t see the wince that comes unbidden to my face if she looks through the mirror. That was a direct slam against me.

That really does hurt, and I rub at the throb of pain behind my breastbone.

“That’s not true,” I reply faintly.

“Did you care about my last ballet recital?”

Early this year, Minnie had a ballet recital. She was so excited about it because I had just finished my tour in December last year, and I’d already told my management that I would like a couple of months off. There was no reason for me not to attend, so I promised her I’d be there.

Except at the last moment, I realised I had forgot to switch an important meeting I had with the team from the new Manchester Arena. Since I invested in it, we had a meeting every few months because I said right from the beginning that I would take more than just a capital interest. I wanted to be involved in the development, because that was a huge project and I was really proud of it.

YN was in charge of our schedule and when she reminded me about the recital, which conflicted directly with my meeting, we ended up getting in the worst row we’ve ever had throughout our marriage.

“You’re going to let our daughter down in a way she won’t forgive,” she stated.

I refused to believe that, brushing off her comment with “I’ll take her out for something special later.” But my wife turned and stalked away from me.

That day, the meeting went great and the construction was almost done a few weeks earlier than intended, so there was an option if we wanted to open sooner. YN sent me a text with a video of Minnie’s performance, and it was beautiful. I was such a proud dad that I showed the video to everyone in that room.

When I got home, my wife and children cuddled on the sofa, watching a film. George was snoozing with his head on his mum’s lap on the far end, so I plopped myself down beside Minnie. I tugged on her hair playfully, and asked if she wanted to go out to a special daddy-daughter dinner to celebrate her recital.

“No, thank you,” she replied quietly, not taking her eyes off the telly.

“Come on, poppet,” I coaxed, trying to tickle her in the ribs a little. She only squirmed closer to her mum, not laughing from the tickle but grimacing like she didn’t want to be touched.

YN stared over Minnie with sorrow in her eyes. She gave a tiny shake of her head, but I wasn’t ready to give up.

“The Ivy?” I tried to tempt her because my kid loves chips, and she’s obsessed with their truffle and parmesan chips.

“No, thank you,” she muttered again, her head resting on her mum’s shoulder and her arm crossed over her middle. YN cuddled her with an arm around her shoulder. It had been clear that they were a unit, and I hadn’t been included.

“Minnie decided she wants to stop ballet lessons, so that was her last recital.”

“Oh,” I’d replied dumbly.

I couldn’t think of another damn thing to say because to do so would be disingenuous. There’s no doubt I killed my daughter’s potential love of ballet by not coming to her recital. I knew that because of YN’s expression of disappointment and Minnie’s dull dismissal.

Later that night, I walked by Minnie’s room and glanced in as the door was slightly open. I had bought her a bouquet of flowers that I gave her before I left for my meeting, and I saw that they’d been stuffed into the bin beside her desk.

I blink out of that memory, feeling the heavy weight of guilt. “Of course I did, my love. If I knew-”

“But not enough to come,” she replies dully. “And what about my debate competition? George’s piano recital? You showed up to none of them.”

I sigh heavily. “Minnie, a lot of parents have demanding jobs where they’re required to work or travel more than others. Sometimes A&E doctors have to work on Christmas and cannot see their children open the presents. Sometimes, a firefighter has to leave their house at night and can’t tuck their kids in bed.”

“I understand that,” she whirls and looks at me through the rear-view mirror. “Except you’re not saving lives or fighting fires, are you? You just get up on a stage and sing.”

“I’m a terrible dad, aren’t I?” I concede. “I know I’ve done things wrong in the past, but I’m trying to make it up to you, poppet. But I can’t do it if you won’t let me.”

She doesn’t say anything and it’s killing me. “You know I love you, right?”

“I know,” she rushes to assure me and I feel a little lighter. My daughter may act like a tween and have some bitter feelings towards me, but she loves me.

“I don’t like seeing you like this,” I continue. “Tell me how to make it up to you and I’ll do it. I want things to be good between us again.”

Her eyes flare with shock, and then they dart away as if she’s considering something. I wait expectantly. Maybe she’s going to finally open up and pour out her feelings for me. I’m ready for it.

I’m ready to listen, and validate, and reassure her that she, along with her mum and brother, are the loves of my life.

Her gaze comes back to me, her expression serious, and I brace.

“Can we get a puppy?”

What?

There’s no stopping the unlocking of my jaw and the dropping of my mouth because this was the last thing I expected her to say.

I’m so caught off guard that I can’t even think to immediately tell her ‘no’, which gives her time to launch into all the reasons why we should have a dog.

“Minnie, puppies are a lot of work. You’ve got to potty train them, teach them manners, and they get up for hours at night.”

“I promise I’ll do all that,” she exclaims.

“Like how you were supposed to take care of Fishy?” I can’t help but remind her. Fishy was her goldfish that we had to throw a funeral for a few years ago because she forgot to feed him. That poor sod died of hunger.

Minnie rolls her eyes. “I was six.”

She’s got a point.

Still, it’s obvious part of her request is manipulation because she threw it at me when I opened myself up to vulnerability. She knows I’m trying, and she’s throwing me a clear bone.

Get her a puppy, and all will be forgiven.

“Tell you what,” I look over my shoulder after I parked the car since we’ve reached home. “I promise to think about it, and I’ll talk to mummy.”

“Really?” She bounces in her seat in excitement.

“We’ll talk about it,” I reiterate in a calm, even voice. But there’s no stopping her excitement. The fact that I’m willing to consider is a huge victory for her because she knows that when I make my mind up about something, I never change it.

I open the door for her, and she is quick to unbuckle herself and throws herself at me.

I’m so surprised at the spontaneous act of affection that I almost don’t hug her back. It’s been so long since she’s shown this to me, and it’s the best feeling in the world.

I squeeze her tight, and I can only hope that my darling girl will always love her daddy the way she does right now.

George doesn’t even stir as I pick him up, and I tuck him in his bed straight away since I don’t want to wake him up. He must be tired, and good thing I’ve fed them both dinner.

Minnie even gives me another hug before she gets ready for bed, and that results in me having a permanent smile on my face even as I walk down the stairs and into the kitchen to see my wife.

“She’s chirpy,” YN comments when she sees me walking into the kitchen. “What did you do?”

“Got her to talk to me,” I smirk.

She looks surprised, and well, I can’t blame her. “Did she?”

“She did,” I nod. “Pointed out all my flaws, and when I asked her how I could make it up to her, she asked for a puppy.”

“What?”

“Exactly my reaction,” I chuckle.

“Boy, if she’s this good at emotional blackmailing at nine, we’d probably be in deep shit in a couple of years,” she jokes and I can’t help but laugh.

I’ve missed this.

“Will you go out to dinner with me tomorrow night?” I blurt out before I can stop myself.

“I can’t.”

“What? Got a hot date already?” I ask teasingly, but her silence tells me what I don’t want to know. “Oh, you’re going out with him.”

“Mr Wife- I mean Luke asked me out first and I already said yes.”

I shouldn’t be laughing because the fact that my wife going on a date with another man is not funny at all, but it’s hard to hide my smirk when she almost calls him by the nickname I’ve given him, Mr Wife-stealer.

“Well, fair enough. He asked you first,” I say nonchalantly. “What does he do?”

“He’s an A&E doctor at the Northern General,” she says, her tone lightens a little.

“Smart then isn’t he,” I mutter.

“Yes. He’s smart, attentive, caring and generous with his time.”

I keep my expression and tone bland, but she landed a direct blow there and it fucking hurts. “All the things I’m not,” I state, voicing the conclusion she was aiming at.

“Well,” she drawls with a tiny bit of sympathy. “I do think you’re smart.”

I give her a side eye-roll before I decide to be downright nosy and ask, “you can’t have been on many dates then?”

“True,” she chirps, a gleam in her eye as she sticks the knife in. “He is busy and his schedules are unpredictable. But when he’s gone, he makes sure I know I’m always on his mind. He sends me flowers for absolutely no reason other than because he wants to, calls me every day and we text all the time.”

Well, sodding fucking bollocking shit wank. I didn’t think YN would fall for that crap. And I realise… I never thought to do that stuff for her. I was the self-absorbed type of person who figured that my wife knew I thought about her all the time when I was away. I mean we were married, so I just assumed she knew.

I’m a shit head.

“What else does he do for you?” I ask and she blinks in surprise.

“Why?” She asks suspiciously.

“I told you I want our marriage to work.”

Her eyes narrow slightly, trying to read my tone and see whether I’m being genuine or it’s just bollocks. Finally, she replies primly, “I’m not giving away his secrets.”

What the fuck does that mean? Have they shagged? I would bet a million pounds they had not though, because I know YN and she wouldn’t enter into that deep of a relationship lightly.

Without even thinking twice, I make a sudden step into her. My arm goes around her waist and I pull her body into me. Not a single inch of space between us. Her mouth opens in a gasp of surprise, and I use the opportunity to kiss her.

I kiss the fuck out of my wife.

Her hands slap against my upper arms, and her fingers dig into my sleeves. Even as she’s pushing me away, her mouth opens, and her tongue touches mine briefly.

When I pull back, I ask, “did he kiss you like this?”

She shakes her head, breathlessly admitting, “we haven’t-”

My jaw drops. “Are you joking?”

“I’m not,” she murmurs.

“How long exactly have you been seeing him?”

“About four weeks.”

“Honey, he’s rooting for the other team,” I tell her and she slaps my arm.

“Sod off, he’s not,” she counters.

“Four weeks with the hottest, most gorgeous, shaggable woman and he hasn’t tried to kiss you? I mean not that I’m not grateful because, fuck, I am. But wow.”

“Of course he did try,” she rolls her eyes. “But I’m not ready for that, and he’s okay with us taking it slow.”

For a second I don’t say anything in response. Instead, I loosen my hold, bringing my hand to her lower back, and cupping her intimately from behind. Moaning, she leans into me. “I’m guessing he hasn’t touched you like this then.”

She doesn’t answer. Instead, she lets her eyelids flutter closed as her teeth bite into her lower lip.

Fuck. I could drag her to the floor right now, and we could go at it.

But then she comes to her senses, blinking rapidly, and I release her immediately when she gives me a tiny shove backwards.

“You’re not playing fair,” she accuses.

Damn right I’m not. I grab her upper arms, pull her back into me for one last kiss before I let her go just as quickly. “I’m playing to win.”

She takes a step back, brushes a wisp of hair from her temple, and puts on a cool expression. “That’s not going to make me take you back.”

I smirk.

She waves a dismissive hand. “Don’t get me wrong. You’re great with your hands and your mouth, but a lot of men know how to please a woman.”

She’s got a bonus point for trying to make me jealous, but I’m not falling for it. Instead, I give her a devilish smile and dip my head towards her.

“That’s true, but no one will ever please you the way I can.”

I’m enjoying our banter, and I expect her to come up with a snappy retort that might make me kiss her again.

Instead, her expression is sad when she says, “I wish I could be happy with that.”

My heart squeezes, and I lift a hand to palm the side of her neck. I wait until she meets my gaze. “We’re more than just sex, darling. I know you need and deserve more. I’m ready to prove that to you.”

I lean in, pressing my lips to her forehead.

She doesn’t respond as I pivot and head through the living room, letting myself out the door.

All in all, I think that went very well.

***

I’m back at my wife’s cottage, waiting for my kids as they get ready upstairs. Minnie has finally agreed to go on a daddy-daughter date and George is going to an overnight sleepover birthday party, and I’ll drop him off at his classmate’s house before I take his sister out to dinner. I’ll make sure to make it up to him by taking him on a special one on one date too next week.

There’s a light rap on the door, and my head swings that way. I have no doubt that it’s Mr Wife-stealer who’s going to take my wife out on a date.

I glance towards the master suite, but the door is closed. YN is probably putting on the finishing touches of her makeup. And the kids are still upstairs.

Nothing left to do but let him in.

Forcing a smile, I open the front door. He blinks in surprise to see me standing there, and I know I’ve got two options here; I could either easily dispel the awkwardness by being cool, welcoming and explaining our schedules happened to overlap.

Or… I could use whatever amount of alone time I have with him to instill some doubt inside his head.

That would be a dirty play, but as I have told my wife, I play to win.

Broadening my smile, I stick my hand out. “You must be Luke. I’ve heard a lot about you. I’m Harry.”

He seems momentarily frozen, but then basic manners take over. When he shakes my hand, it’s a bit limp, perhaps denoting a lack of confidence. After I release him, I bid him entrance with a sweep of my hand. “YN is in the bedroom. She’s still getting ready.”

Luke frowns over the fact that I know YN is in the bedroom. Probably over me even being here to talk to him. But I don’t dispel any innuendo he might glean from that.

I loop an arm around his shoulders, clamp down, and start guiding him to the kitchen. “Come on in and sit for a bit while she’s finishing up. Want a beer?”

Luke moves to one of the island stools, looking completely frazzled. “Uh… no, thank you.”

I shrug, moving to the fridge and opening it. Grabbing a bottle, I say with a sly grin as I close it. “So glad YN still stocks my favourite beer.”

I am so going to hell.

But that’s the truth. It’s my wife’s favourite beer, too, but I don't tell him that. Instead, I let the implication that I come over and have beers often. Luke’s frown deepens.

“YN tells me you work at the Northern General?” I take a sip of my beer, then lean my forearms on the island directly across from him so we’re eye level.

“Yeah… uh, that’s right.” Poor Luke. He seems incapable of carrying on a polite conversation with the husband of the woman he’s dating.

But I’m going to give him a pass. Setting my beer down, I straighten. “Let me go tell YN you’re here.”

“Um… you don’t have-” he starts to say, but I move past him without a backward glance. Through the living room, down the small hall, and a hard left takes me to the master suite. The door’s closed. I don’t bother knocking because I know YN is dressed.

I find her in the ensuite, her makeup drawer open and she’s huddled over it, touching something inside.

“Your date’s here,” I announce.

She lets out a yip of fright, shoving whatever it was in her hand to the back and slamming the drawer closed.

“Damn it, Harry,” she snaps, her palm pressed against her heart. “You scared the hell out of me. And what are you doing in my room?”

“Just running an errand for you. Wanted to let you know your date is here,” I say casually and I give her a mischievous grin. “Don’t worry, I welcomed him in, offered him a drink, and made small talk.”

She rolls her eyes, rising from her vanity chair and moves past me without another word. I start to follow, but then I hesitate and turn back to the drawer of her vanity. Quietly, I pull it open as far as it will go, spotting a picture of YN and me stuffed in the back.

I recognise it. It’s from a trip we took to Anguilla a few years back, just the two of us, and fuck if we didn’t look happy and deeply in love.

Was that what she was looking at when I walked in?

That could be good or bad, but either way, no way to know the answer. I shut the drawer, then catch up to her as she’s moving through the living room. Luke sees her, sliding off the stool. When she holds out her hands, he takes them and leans in to kiss her on the cheek.

Lame.

I sit on the armrest of the sofa, watching. Luke glances over YN’s shoulder at me as he pulls back, smiling victoriously.

I just smirk back. Because he’d probably lose it if he knew the type of kiss I gave my wife just last night. But I’ll keep that information to myself, though.

YN grabs her handbag off the accent table near the staircase before addressing me. “Make sure Minnie locks up when you leave, and remind George I’ll pick him up at ten tomorrow morning.”

I give her a jaunty salute. “Aye-aye, Captain.”

In return, I get another eye roll.

Luke puts his hand on my wife’s back, shooting me a look that says, ‘she’s mine tonight’, and I want to punch his teeth down the back of his throat. I just smile blandly, because, in just a few minutes of talking to him and watching how they interact, I can tell he’s getting nothing more than a friendly kiss when he brings her home.

YN might want to keep pushing at that relationship, but I am willing to bet that it’s not going to go anywhere. I know this, because I’m sure that my wife is still in love with me.

Read part II here!

#harry #harry styles #harry styles fic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles one shot #harry styles smut #harry styles fluff #harry styles angst #harry styles ff #harry styles x reader #harry styles x y/n #boyfriend!harry #husband!harry #dad!harry #dad harry styles #dad harry imagines #dad harry styles imagines

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whet-ones-write · 4 years ago

Text

Baku Birthday 2021

So I’m posting this a /little/ early because I’m just too excited to share this fic! So I joined in with Bakugou’s Birthday Bash hosted by these amazing people!!

@phasmwrites @katsukikitten @bakugotrashpanda @lady-bakuhoe @jodrawssmut & @ramen-rambles

And since joining I couldn’t have found a more supporting and helpful group on Discord!! Special thanks to: @hoe-doroki for being my beta reader and editor!! Thank you for dealing with my sorry, inconsistant ass and giving me the strength to pull though and just do some of my best writing to date! I haven’t written so much in so long and it was rather nice!!

And to @notchesandbullets for telling me I can do this and be those words of praise when I needed them the most helping me pull though and finish this!

Contains: DragonShifter!Reader x Bakugou. Fantasy Setting,

WC: 3755 - Masterlist to all the works!!

Warnings: 18+, SMUT, oral (Female + M reviecing), Cowgirl, unprotected sex, Cum eating, Premature Ejaluations (if you squint), Age gap? It’s implied Reader is much older than Katsuki. Restraining Katsuki, Pervert Kiri

Looking around his throne, Katsuki couldn’t help but scoff at what came to his mind. He had everything a chief could want, but it still wasn’t enough for the young, barbaric male. Vast and grand was his home. People were happy, going about their day, harvest due and bountiful, the river running steady and clean.

Though, he was still missing a vital element to his life. Someone to make him happy, to have by his side and call his own. So the only thing he had left to need or want was someone to walk into battle with him, because not just any person would.

No, they had to have a few key traits to meet his standards. They needed to have a willingness to fight, to want to protect those around him and themselves with everything they had. They had to be able to take flack and a joke but also be serious when the time came. They had to be able to take no shit from anyone and make sure to be willing to put others in their place if they went out of line.

It wasn’t much! Honestly…Or at least he thought so.

“...ugou, Bakugou!” A voice snapped him from his thoughts as he glanced at his adviser, unhappy over the fact he was interrupted from his thoughts.

“What is it?” Katsuki questioned as he lazily shifted his attention to the man standing at his right side.

“As I was saying, there have been some sightings of strangely coloured dragons in the nearby valleys. We do not know if it is one or more or if they’re passing by or staying. Moreover, they have yet to attack the villages, but it would be wise to at least investigate the surrounding areas before anything happens,” his assistant spoke as he looked for what the King was going to do.

Taking a moment, Katsuki couldn’t help but smile as he got up and began to stretch. “Eijirou, prepare for a flight. It seems there might be someone that needs a reminder of who those valleys belong to.”

Though to the Bakugou family dragons were revered and seen as good omens, there was a limit. Dragons that fought over territory could be destructive and wipe entire lands from existence, so if there was ever more than one in an area it could prove to be a bad omen instead.

One dragon or one family were seen as protecting the lands, keeping invaders at bay and being loyal by nature. Though another one could offset the balance, should they prove to be hungry or hostile. The valleys in which the Bakugous lived were famous for having the longest standing relationship with the red dragons of the Kirishima clan. They had served one another for generations with the latest duo being that of the Barbarian King Katsuki Bakugou, son of the late Chieftess Mitsuki Bakugou, and the dragon that protected the lands, Eijirou Kirishima, son to late Hikori Kirishima.

Standing at seven feet, the mostly human nodded and saluted as he walked with his friend outside. “Yes, sir.” He beamed happily, seemingly excited by the prospect of seeing another dragon. “Though, what are your instructions, should they prove hostile?”

“Hostile?” Katsuki mused, placing a hand to his chin as the other morphed into that of a forty-foot-long dragon from the tip of his nose to the very end of his arrow-pointed tail. Once finished, Kirishima leaned down to lower his wing, letting Katsuki get on by walking up the thin bone of the arch of his wing and holding onto his spines, climbing all the way to behind the red horns that adorned his head. “Should the dragon wish to try and stay, we will start through the diplomatic route.”

That was the thing about Katsuki. For all his bloodlust and anger, he was quite the strategist when it came to monsters several times his size. Having worked with Eijirou for some time, they had built up a bond of trust valuable for when trouble arose.

“Should that fail, we will have to take things up a notch. I would like to avoid a fight if at all possible.” He sighed as he clung to the horn while the other took off. “The valley is full of fish making their way upstream for the breeding season,” he muttered before groaning and slapping his face as he remembered something, getting even more irritated.

“It could be a female dragon,” he groaned, looking down to Eijirou. “With breeding season approaching, it could prove very troublesome,” he grumbled as he lay down to keep low as Eijirou took to the sky.

“Hm,” came a deep rumble from the beast.

A female dragon would be far better than a male should they be able to move it along. It could prove worse in the long run, though, as other males came to try and have their chance, destroying the local landscape fighting over the female.

“Not going to be influenced? I know you’re a young male.” Katsuki snickered as the dragon grunted and shook slightly in a ‘no’. “Don’t worry, whatever happens we’ll sort it,” he offered quietly as he calmed down to focus on the mission at hand.

They took to the base of the mountains and looked for any signs of disturbance. With fear running though the nearest village, it was clear to see that the crops were half unattended and in the middle of being harvested. “I’m going to go take a look at the surrounding areas and talk to the locals. You go on up the mountain and scout that out,” the Chief commanded. With a short huff and a nod, Eijirou turned to slowly and carefully make his way up and around the mountains.

It wasn’t long before Eijirou returned with some news. Meeting in the center of town, the dragon descended slowly and waited for Katsuki to approach before he spoke. “I found a trail of blood from the ground leading up to a cave roughly halfway up the mountain.

Nodding, Katsuki signaled for Eijirou to lower himself so he could climb onto his back. “Sounds about right. The locals saw a figure flying unsteadily across the sky and into the mountain. There was a loud thump before all went silent. It’s more than likely a dragon. It hasn’t done harm to the villagers yet, though, so a slow, quiet and careful approach is needed.”

Coming to the entrance of the cave, Katsuki hopped off Eijirou, immediately noticing the plants had been recently crushed and a splattering of dried blood was leading into the cave. Looking up to Eijirou, he nodded and quietly led the way in. Eijirou used a small breath to light the torch that Katsuki would have to use to see.

It didn’t take them long to find the cause of the blood and crushed plants. Lying in front of them was a bronze dragon just as large as Kirishima, if not bigger, bleeding heavily from it’s hind leg, belly and face.

“Holy shit,” Katsukimuttered as he looked over the sight. He froze as the dragon raised its head. Chuckling, you looked over at Katsuki and Eijirou. “If you have come to kill me, at least make it swift.”

“Tch, don’t lump me with most humans,” Katsuki stated as he approached you, looking over the wounds. A huffing could be heard as he made his way closer, your muscles tense and beady eyes watching his form, ready to attack should harm come. “I’m a Bakugou. We don’t harm your kind.”

“You may not harm but you enslave. I feel sorry for the red scaled one over there. Forced to serve you like their ancestors,” you mumbled, laying your head down and closing your eyes to rest.

Eijirou huffed before he sat down. “I’m not. It’s nice to have lands that we don’t have to fight over and live in harmony with humans,” he protested, watching as Katsuki assessed the wounds. “I am from the Kirishima clan.” He beamed, almost a little too excited to say so. “It’s nice to see another shade of red around here. Normally those of the Shinsou clan are around these areas.” Eijirou started, tilting his head to the side. “So what brings you here?” he mused.

Which was how you explained your side of the story. It wasn’t uncommon for humans to attack those of draconic race because of the first dragons causing havoc and turmoil for humankind. You were a young dragon who still had not found some land to live in. So, you were aimlessly looking around for somewhere to sleep before you were ambushed by a kingdom that had a bad past with dragons, driving you out.

“Well,” Katsuki started as he backed off. “If you revert into your human form, we can take you back and give you medical aid. I’m not about to let a creature like you just die pathetically cold and alone in such a depressing state.”

With that, they watched as your form changed into a bloodstained, corseted, sleeveless dress, wings still visible with a tail barely peeking from beneath your long skirt. Their eyes lingered for a little too long to be completely respectful.

Getting up from where he lay, Eijirou gently enclosed you in his claws, protecting you, letting Katsuki onto his back before taking off back to the kingdom to give you the aid you needed.

~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~ * ~

The next thing you knew, you were waking up to some argument going on outside, though you took no heed to it. After all, you would need to at least stay to repay the kindness the human has shown you before taking your leave.

As the flap to the tent opened, you looked up at the figure that came to inspect you in the cot. “How are you feeling?” The one that entered had torn red wings and a thin arrow-headed tail much like that of the dragon you’d seen earlier.

“Much better, thanks.” He watched you as you got up to move around.

“Yeah, my mother is a great healer.” The man beamed proudly before his face dropped for a moment in realisation. “Oh, that’s right! I’m Eijirou Kirishima!” He offered a hand for you to shake as he introduced yourself. “I’m Katsuki’s dragon companion. Speaking of which, when you feel up to it, he wants to see you in the throne room. He’s currently occupied with some business, so why not come later tonight before dinner? He wants to talk to you about some things.”

“Ah I see” You nodded in agreement though still clearly wary of him.

“Yeah, my mom specialises in herbal and magical treatments for dragons. You should be fighting fit by the end of day! So enjoy yourself and have a look around! You’re more than welcome here as long as you don’t kill anyone.” You found yourself chuckling lightly along with him as he waved. “See ya! Rest up well and don’t push yourself too hard!” He beamed as he left.

As Eijirou left you alone with your thoughts, you couldn’t help but think back to just how trustingly and kindly Katsuki had treated you. Taking your leave from the tent, you looked to the sky to gauge the time of day. Deciding you had at least an hour before the sun would set and you would need to see the Chieftain, you went to see what the town had to offer.

As you walked among the townsfolk, you couldn’t help but notice that dragons and humans walked around one another as if that were a normal thing to do. Had things always been like this? And how had this not spread to other countries? Though be that as it might, you were happy for these people; they seemed to be comfortable and welcoming just like the man who had found you. Perhaps you could stay a little longer than intended…

Still, once the sun started to set you walked back the way you came only to come across a tent larger than most, assuming that was where Katsuki would be wrapping up the day.

You slowly opened the flap as some villagers came out, happily discussing the day’s harvest before you heard. “Come on in, dragon!” Katsuki called as he remained seated on his chair smirking to himself. “Feeling better, I see?” he questioned as he sat up straight. Even like this, you could see and feel the power he irradiated.

“Yes, much, thank you.” Bowing, you smiled before you were told to stand upright. “If there’s anything I can do for you, please just let me know. It’s the least I can do after you saved my life.”

The moment those words left your mouth, you had a feeling that you were either going to live to regret it or thank him.

“Speaking of which,” he started as he leaned back and patted his lap. “Please, come here,” he commanded. Once you approached, he leaned forward, taking your chin between his thumb and forefinger as if inspecting you. Up close, you could just see how deep ruby red his eyes were as well as how sharp his teeth were. For a human, he had a great set of fangs on him. ‘Shame he’s a human; he would have made a great and fierce dragon,’ you couldn’t help but think before he spoke, bringing you back to reality.

“Yes, you’re perfect,” he muttered, pulling you into his lap forcefully by your waist. “Strong willed, a fighter, and someone I could learn to grow better with,” he stated as he suddenly captured your lips. “You will be my partner,” he stated as his hands wandered low.

Spluttering and blushing, you thrust your arms at his chiseled chest, putting some distance between the two of you. “B-But how do you know? I could kill you! You barely know me,” you protested, though with his power he forced you to fold your arms, leaning in to whisper.

“But you owe me your life. Surely this is nothing and if you don’t feel like you’re the one you’re more than welcome to leave,” he purred.

You knew he was right. This young, powerful man knew that dragons didn’t back down on their word, and so serving him would mean repaying the debt? A small price to pay, truly.

“So why not get on your knees for your Chief and thank me properly?” he offered, leaning back and letting go of you. You watched as the grin on his face was almost ear splitting as you sunk to your knees in front of him. He let his hands wander down his trousers to help you get them off and down to his ankles.

“That’s it,” he praised, reaching out to gently lay his hand on your head. His eyes watched you with keen interest as you slowly took him into your mouth. He wasn’t completely hard and you shifted to get a better angle and grip him in your hands, though he tried to encourage you with soft words. “That’s it, fuckin’ take it all in,” he muttered as he leaned back, getting more comfortable on his throne. The grasp on your hair got tighter as he started to get impatient and guide your face along his length. “Come on now, no need to be so shy about it.” His teeth showed as he smiled. “You’ve lived longer than I have, surely you have the experience?” he goaded. Which, if you were honest with yourself, was true. You were most likely older than him, and could show him a thing or two while you’re at it.

Straightening your back a little from the floor you looked over his hardening dick. Licking your lips, you took the head in, using the flexibility to weave in between the head of his cock and the shaft before leaning up and taking it in as much as you could. Tongue flat, running along the thick vein underneath, you slowly bobbed your head back and forth, breathing when you could. It wasn’t long before you felt a tug with the hand that ran through your hair to pull you away from him, leaving you panting, and breathless from working so hard to please him.

His cheeks flushed a bright pink he chuckled almost as breathlessly as you, having forgotten how to breathe in the moment before letting go of your hair. “What a good girl,” he praised as he shifted back and patted his lap. “Why not come for a ride?” he questioned as he watched you stand. “I would have taken you back to my room, but I'm feeling impatient. It’s my birthday after all,” he informed, eyes hungrily watching over your form as you stripped naked, and then worked on taking off his trousers completely.

“Your birthday?” you questioned him as you straddled his lap. “I see. Perhaps this will be enough of a gift then?” you mused lining yourself up, slowly trying to sink yourself down on him.

His head slammed back against the back of his throne as he groaned. You were taking your time, though as you hadn’t prepared yourself. You knew your body could and would stretch, but it was painful to begin with. He was stretching you to your limit, but you licked your hand to reach down to let the saliva coating his dick for an easier entry only then were you able to sit down fully on his lap.

Taking a good minute or two you both sat, panting, just feeling one another as you got used to the stretch of his cock within you. His hands empassing your hips, he tried to get you to move, but you had other ideas. It was his birthday? That’s just fine, but you would make sure it would be a ride he wouldn’t forget in a hurry.

You gently grasped his hands and took them off your hips to raise them above his head as you started to roll your hips back and forth. Leaning in close to kiss him and to distract him, you used your tail to wrap his hands above his head. He only just realised when you leaned back.

“W-What the fuck is—shit—the big idea?” he panted as his eyes were glued to your form, which started moving so effortlessly up and down on his dick.

“It’s your birthday. I want to spoil you, so enjoy the ride.” Chuckling a little darkly, you couldn’t help but use your wings to give you some extra momentum and power into your movements as you rode him.

He couldn't believe just how lucky he was to have such a beautiful person ride him within an inch of his life. You knew just what to do and how to please him, which, to his embarrassment, had him orgasming not much longer after you started.

“F-Fuck!” he grunted, unable to couldn’t help it when his hips met yours. Though your gut had only just started to coil with your own orgasm, much to your disappointment. You remained seated on his lap as he came down from his high, letting go of his arms.

He watched you only to frown. Noticing you hadn’t orgasmed yet he couldn’t help but feel like a teenager all over again.

This wouldn’t do. This wouldn’t do at all.

Growling, he forcefully lifted you up from him as he slid to the floor, getting you to sit in his seat. Wrapping his arms around your waist, he brought you to his face and started to lap up not only at his own cum that had started to seep it’s way out from the confines of yourself, but searching for any original taste of your own essence. This surprise had you leaning over with a groan. In all your years, no other man had been so willing about doing this.

Smirking from the inside of your thighs, he knew from your expression that you were loving it or at the very least surprised by his movements. “What?” he questioned, so close to your cunt that you could feel his breath ghosting it. “Never been eaten out before?” He seemed a little too smug, as if he almost already knew the answer.

With a shake of your head, he only shifted closer and got more comfortable as he nudged your clit with his nose. “Hmm, good. I'm a man starving for pussy and it’s delicious, so don’t mind me,” he muttered before his gaze lowered.

Though his dick felt great, this was almost a thousand times better. There was no painful stretch, only a soft muscle, though not deep. The slurping and sucking sounds and sensations were what quickly brought your end. He was more than happy to guide you though your high as you remained hunched over his head, hands which you now realised were in his hair, forcing his face just that much closer.

Leaning back once you had come back to Earth, you watched him as he wiped his chin and cheeks with the back of his arm. “Thank you for the meal.” He chuckled, giving off a lopsided smile, showing off the pearly whites of his sharp teeth. He stood as he gathered up his trousers as he got dressed. “You’re more than welcome to stay for dinner in my home,” he stated as he turned to you and passed you back your clothes.

Slowly taking them, you nodded as you got dressed despite the shake in your legs. “Y-Yeah, I think I will,” you confirmed as you slipped back into your clothes.

“Good choice. I’m not finished with you yet, beautiful.” Leaning in, he kissed your cheek before taking his leave only to find a very flustered Eijirou waiting outside. “Something wrong?” Katsuki questioned with folded arms, knowing exactly what he was doing.

“N-No!” the dragon protested, though the redness that was spread all the way up to his ears gave him away.

“Next time, just ask. It’s rude to eavesdrop.” Katsuki laughed as he walked away, going to join the mass for dinner.

“K-Katsuki! I had to make sure you were safe! After all, she’s a rogue dragon,” Eijirou protested in earnest. Though he wouldn’t admit it, that would be something that Eijirou would very much like to do.

“Sure, sure, whatever you say, man.”

Rolling his eyes, Katsuki took a seat at the head of the banquet table, waiting for your arrival before the festivities could begin.

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twinxyjinx · 3 years ago

Text

Torn Pages

Wukong never thought about the fact he’d outlive them.

(aka Monkey King is immortal, and his friends are decidedly no)

Read it below, or read it here —> https://archiveofourown.org/works/38831166

TW: character death, depictions of violence, references to depression

WARNING: This fic is meant to show a character being unable to cope with the loss of loved ones. As a result, said character spirals.

—

Wukong never thought of the consequences when he ate those peaches. Never did the thought cross his mind that he would become immortal, rendering death powerless against him. He had been young and stupid in the moment, and it had quickly caught on with him. The idea of living forever had seemed like a great one back then, but now that it had happened and was still happening, he was only haunted by his past actions. The dread of immortality weighed heavy on his shoulders, bringing him an exhaustion only he could experience.

So when he met MK, it brought a new spark of light into his life. The kid had energy, was fairly intelligent, and he could hold the staff. It was a perfect fit for Monkey King’s successor, and Wukong personally couldn’t have been more glad. The idea of having someone else take up the mantle of such a task while allowing him to do whatever he pleased for the rest of the world was a fascinating, yet enticing, idea. But fate never played out how he wanted. The kid wanted to be vulnerable. He wanted to learn all the moves before he became invulnerable, and for all Wukong knew, that could take years… more years than a human could live for.

The idea scared him, of course. He had taken a liking to MK. He was great company, he was a great sparring partner (for the little battle knowledge he knew), and he wasn’t too pushy with Wukong. He had expected him to be somewhat obsessed, seeing how he was an avid Monkey King fan. He still had those moments where he would freak out and obsess over things, but he always seemed to know when to tone it down. He knew when to back off and play it cool. He was surprisingly (and scarily) good at reading body language, and Wukong was practically an open book to him.

“What’s wrong?” That was a question MK asked a lot. Whether it be when Wukong was simply tired or having one of those days, MK always asked that question when he saw even the smallest indication that something was off. Wukong would laugh it off, waving a hand to brush it off while he shrugged. But he always persisted, and Wukong always said the same thing: “I don’t think an immortal should be dumping all his problems onto a mortal who isn’t that old yet.” It seemed to soothe MK, or at least stop him from asking about what was wrong. It was nice that he worried. Endearing, in a way. But Wukong wouldn’t talk to him about that.

When MK introduced him to his friends, it had been a different kind of feeling that ran through his body. A ripple of shock that sent his body into overdrive, his fur standing on end while he stared with wide, hollow eyes. They’re names were Tang, Pigsy, and Sandy. Nothing was overly special about them aside from how they looked. Wukong didn’t believe in coincidences, but he didn’t believe in reincarnation either. He had studied each for an immeasurable amount of time before brushing it off to “they look alike.” It was still unnerving lingering around them. The kind of unease that filled his body rattled his bones and made him shiver.

And MK would do what he always did. He’d ask if Wukong was okay, but Wukong didn’t respond how he normally did. He’d fix him with a stare that held an untold story in his gaze before he’d sigh, looking away wistfully. “You’re friends remind me of someone.” That was his new response, now. He never elaborated on it. Even when MK shoved his face at Wukong’s face, pleading for an explanation, he never offered one. Of course he wished he could tell him everything, but he didn’t feel like doing it would leave him with a clear mind.

It was harder after Lady Bone Demon essentially sent them away. It was more of a retreat than anything, but also a plan to collect the rings. Wukong had felt the hot stares that melted into him when he walked around the ship. He felt the cold glares from MK’s friends, but he never acknowledged them. At night, he would sit on the edge of the ship, staring at the stars overhead with a bored expression. When MK could join him and ask if he was okay, he’d breath out a soft “just thinking.” Because this situation was all too familiar in a way that made him writhe in his own body. It was unsettling to be in the environment he was in, but he did his best to hide that discomfort. Even if it did mean he’d cry out of frustration every moment he was alone.

And even after they had defeated Lady Bone Demon, the distress never left him. MK had been injured in that final fight, rendering him on bed rest for at least a few weeks while he recovered. The whole thing had been a blur for Wukong, but he remembered so vaguely that he could practically piece it together. The way MK fell forward, and the animalistic scream he let out. The raw shriek was so loud that it scratched his throat in a way that it burned. The way he crumbled down next to his body, choking out pleas while he desperately applied pressure to any wounds. The way tears dribbled down the side of his face when he watched MK’s boneless body be carried away with such urgency that it hurt.

He didn’t sleep for a while after that. He wasn’t able to. The mountain he had once called home was a mess compared to the last time he’d seen it, so he spent his nights on Sandy’s ship or at Pigsy’s shop. He could still feel their eyes on him, but they were less heated. They were worried. He shrunk under their gazes, tail twitching irritably. His frustration was growing unbearable. MK hadn’t woken for two weeks since the battle, and Wukong was beginning to grow weary. He was beginning to regret ever taking away his invincibility. Even staring at him on the bed where he lay, despite the recovery he was making, made him regret it.

“Monkey King?” Tang’s voice startled him. Wukong looked away from MK, sitting upright in the chair he was slouching in. He blinked once, and he relished in the split second his eyelids closed. The bite of pain when he opened them again went unnoticed by Tang, who stared at him with a worried expression. “I think you should sleep.” He finally murmured after a moment. Wukong didn’t respond for a long time, processing the words. He stared, and stared, and stared, until he finally inhaled and exhaled. “I will.”

“MK would want you to sleep.” Tang responded curtly, resting a hand on Wukong’s shoulder. The statement stung in a way that made Wukong clench his jaw. He narrowed his eyes, whether it be out of frustration or that they were beginning to burn. “I will.” He repeated again, looking at MK once more. The stillness of him was unnerving. The way he just laid there, his chest rising and falling. If he didn’t see him breathing, Wukong would’ve thought he was a corpse. He could certainly pass as one the way he looked now. His face was relaxed, no wrinkles and no signs of distress. Wukong longed for that.

“Please?” Tang tried again. Wukong looked back at him, swaying unsteadily in the chair. His vision fuzzed for a moment before clearing to a different image. Wukong stalled for a moment before slowly leaning forward, letting his head rest against Tang’s chest. But it wasn’t Tang he saw. “Okay, Tripitaka.” He murmured softly. The moment he uttered those words, it was as if a puppet had lost all of its strings. His body went boneless as he slumped off the chair into Tang, who frantically scrabbled to keep him upright. He didn’t remember much after that, despite being told he didn’t fall asleep for a while. He’d been somewhere between a state of awake and sleep, according to Tang and Pigsy. And he’d been murmuring names they didn’t recognize. But Wukong knew those names. He didn’t dare explain them, however.

MK regained consciousness days later, and Wukong got a little more spring back into his step. His playful banter was back, despite the bags that hung under his eyes. It was overwhelming how quickly he had gotten energy, but he was burning himself out. That exhaustion showed itself once again when he found himself shambling awkwardly through Pigsy’s shop late at night, his mind a haze. Maybe he was coming down with something? That wouldn’t surprise him. He shook his head as he leaned against a nearby wall, staring at his feet.

“What’re you doing up?” The voice caught Wukong off guard. His head snapped upright to stare at Pigsy, but he wasn’t seeing who he actually was. Just like with Tang. His eyebrows furrowed together as he tilted his head. “Bajie?” He breathed out, taking a stumbling step towards him. His legs buckled beneath him, but Pigsy caught him. The other let out a grunt as Wukong hung there for a moment, head drooped, before he looked back up at him. “You’re alive?” He breathed, eyes widening. Pigsy’s face contorted as he carefully brought one of his hands up to Wukong’s forehead. “Not again.” He muttered before pulling his hand away. “You’re burning up. C’mere.”

It all blurred from there once again. He was told the same as last time, of course. Muttering nonsense and talking to him as if he was someone else. Even if embarrassment bit at him, it was the horrible feeling of grief that overpowered it. He hid it to the best of his ability, but MK saw right through it, of course. “Are you okay?” He asked once more on a pleasant day. They had finally gone up to the mountain again to meditate, and MK had broken the long string of silence with that question. Wukong opened his eyes, glancing at MK with a confused look. “Yeah?” He shrugged, uncrossing his legs.

“You don’t look okay.” MK responded, and Wukong winced. He was an open book. An open book with ripped and tattered pages, old and worn, scarred by time. He breathed out a laugh, looking away. “I’m doing great, kid.” He shrugged it off, but MK persisted this time. He didn’t normally do that. “You’ve been lying.” He said, and something in Wukong cracked. He looked back at MK, his voice wobbling as he spoke. “Really?” He asked with an innocent tone, trying to keep the mood light. Maybe, just maybe, he could trick the kid or at least change the subject somehow. But MK did not falter. “You can tell me.”

Another crack. Wukong felt a sting. He laughed again, waving his hands at MK. “I’m telling you, kid, I’m fine!” And despite how many times he had told himself and MK that, he did not, in fact, feel fine. His smile shook before falling into a frown as he looked down. MK made a noise of concern in the back of his throat as he scooted towards Wukong, eyes understanding and soft. “You haven’t been fine. You keep… talking about these other people… I’m going to ask you again, Wukong,” He said his name, “and I want an honest answer.” God kid. “Are you okay?”

His mind blanked for a second, and then he shattered. He stared at MK for a few moments before a sting built up in his eyes. He blinked as the sides of his face grew wet, tears racing down his cheeks and creating streaks. Wukong stared at MK for a moment before a trembling smile formed on his lips. “No, kid.” He finally whispered, his voice breaking. “I’m not… I am not okay.” He breathed, wrapping his arms around himself in shame. The noise that forced itself up his throat wasn’t natural as he curled in on himself. MK didn’t point it out. He didn’t mutter anything. He just silently wrapped his arms around Wukong, allowing his mentor to sink into his hold.

It had been temporary relief, of course. He spent years after that lamenting in silence, his mind plagued by thoughts that would leave him staring off into space for hours at a time. It did get better at points, of course. He ended up hanging out with Demon Bull King more due to the fact that MK and Red Son had started to grow close. He and Bull King were like best friends (at least Wukong liked to think that). MK had made fun of them at some points, jabbing that they were “dads watching their kids hang out.” The statement had made Bull King curious, but Wukong had stalled out. Dad. That was… nice.

And everything was nice. Until he got that letter.

I regret to inform you that Tang has recently passed away. That was the line that made Wukong stop. The world around him jerked to a halt, and suddenly, he was spiraling once again. Mortals were fragile beings who had such short life spans. It wasn’t age that took Tang, however. It was an illness. And that was what stung. The funeral was to be a few days from when he got the letter, and that gave him all the time he needed to empty out his emotions so that they wouldn't show at the funeral.

And he screamed. He screamed, screeched, sobbed, and hit the ground. He punched the trees, scorched the earth with his temper, and lashed the ground with his tail. By the time he had collapsed to the ground in a trembling heap of tears and ruffled fur, the monkeys had scrambled away to avoid getting caught in the crossfire. Mortals… such fragile beings. Such flawed creations. The thought made him sick. His stomach churned as tears welled in his eyes, cascading down his face and darkening the ground below him. Such flawed, flawed creations.

The funeral itself was clear. He remembered it all. From the moment he arrived to the moment he left. He remembered arriving in the suit he had gotten a hold of, greeted by Pigsy at the door. MK and Mei were inside along with Sandy and many other people Wukong didn’t recognize. Likely his family and other friends. The thought was bitter. He let himself into the building, and time flew by at such incredible speed. But he still remembered it. The tears, the speeches, the burial. It only all came back to hit him at once at the after “party,” if you could even call it that.

The atmosphere was solemn. The group that had gone on the journey ended up at Pigsy’s shop nearing the end of the night. A few laughs broke the heavy air, but Wukong never heard what caused the noise. He had isolated himself at the counter of the shop, holding a cup of water while he stared dimly at his reflection. He hadn’t aged since he ate those peaches. The only real difference was the shine in his eyes was no longer there. A haunting reminder of what the past hundreds of years had done to him. The world had not treated him kindly.

“You gonna come join us?” Pigsy appeared at his side. Wukong didn’t flinch, as he had heard the other approaching. He did exhale a heavy sigh, however, allowing his shoulders to slouch down. “I will.” He murmured. It’s what MK would’ve wanted. The response echoed in his mind despite the fact that a very different set of words came out of Pigsy’s mouth. “Take your time.” He simply murmured, patting Wukong’s back before heading back up the stairs. Wukong stared after him for a moment before looking back at the cup of water. He heaved a sigh as he slowly drew himself off the chair and headed up the stairs.

He found the group in a room similar to a living room. There was a couch with a few bean bags, a coffee table, and a television. There were a few shelves with pictures here and there, but it seemed like it was just a room to relax in. A few greeted him as he shuffled in and claimed an untouched bean bag, but there wasn’t much more talking to him other than that. He allowed himself to sit there for a while, staring at his hands until he decided to speak up. He hadn’t processed what he was going to say just yet until he said it. “How much more time do I have?”

“Hm?” MK looked up from the coffee table where he, Red Son, and Mei were doing a puzzle. Wukong held his breath for a moment before he let out an uneasy laugh. He brought a hand up behind his head as he scratched his neck, an awkward smile ghosting his lips. “I was… thinking…” It was better to talk about it. He had to keep telling himself that. “I’m immortal, and you… all are not immortal… So uh… y’know, how much more time do I have? With… you?” He looked down for a moment before looking back up, tilting his head. He hadn’t realized the tears running down his face until he saw the sympathetic looks in their eyes.

He brought a hand up to his face quickly to brush them away, choking out a laugh. “This is awkward.” He whispered, blinking a few times. Sandy hummed from where he was sitting. “Time is a fragile thing, Monkey King. Tang was young. He had plenty more years ahead of him, but things happened… it could change quickly.” He looked at him, eyes flashing. “To be blunt, the time that remains between our deaths is varying as we speak.” He explained in a hushed tone. A stab of grief lanced through Wukong. He grimaced and nodded. “Right… sorry for killing the mood there.” He laughed again, the sound forced and strained. MK noticed, because of course he did. “Don’t worry, Monkey King. I’m sure you still have plenty of time left with us!”

He hoped so. The rest of the night went on without much of any commotion. Wukong found himself nodding off every now and then, only to be woken by the sound of Red Son shouting or someone laughing. He was startled out of his doze when Pigsy jostled him gently. “People are startin’ to head out. Just wanted to let you know… you’re welcome to stay here if you want.” He murmured. Wukong blinked groggily at him before he began to heave himself upright, grunting. “I’ll head out.” He rasped out, grimacing at the dryness in his throat. “Safe travels.” Pigsy patted his back once again before he slipped out of the room. Wukong stared after him for a moment longer, eyes half-lidded.

He decided to stay.

—

Wukong ended up staying at Pigsy’s quite a lot. Between the mountain and his place, he felt closer to the rest. He felt less restless and less paranoid that they would be there and then be gone the next. While it didn’t fully relieve the feeling, it did help muffle it in a way. He was still paranoid whenever someone seemed even slightly off. Mei had gotten a small head cold one time, and it had sent Wukong into a silent spiral that left him sitting in a daze throughout the day, thoughts of what could happen consuming him.

It happened a lot more than he wanted it to. When Demon Bull King invited the group over for a little friendly meal together, he found himself staring off into the distance, his gaze not resting on anything specific. Although he hadn’t been paying attention, he still heard the way Princess Iron Fan murmured a soft “is he always like this” to which Demon Bull King grumbled a low “no.” He hadn’t acknowledged them in any way, but it still made his skin crawl. Even they had noticed, and no one except MK seemed to get that.

When the meal had finally come, a storm rolled in around the area that left the group to stay the night. And Wukong found himself sitting alone on a couch with Demon Bull King later in the night, staring silently at a baking show. He wasn’t paying attention again. And Demon Bull King seemed to have grown tired of that. “What bothers you?” He finally spoke up, pausing the show to lean forward. Wukong looked at him, blinking his glassy eyes for a moment before laughing. “Ah, nothing. Your show is boring.” He played it off with a grin, but the other wasn’t deterred.

“You are not normally like this. What trouble plagues you?” Demon Bull King persisted once more. Wukong stared at him for a few more moments before he sighed. He leaned back into the cushion, rubbing the back of his neck as he looked at the paused show. “If I tell you, can we stop the conversation there?” He asked. Demon Bull King hesitated, his eyes narrowing, but he gave a hum and nodded his head slowly.

“Ever since Tang… passed, I’ve been sort of just a little worried about the others dying? Y’know- I mean… I haven’t really had friends or family for awhile and now I do, but they aren’t immortal. They’re normal people. They won’t live for the rest of eternity, and I guess I was just kind of thinking that eventually, they’ll all be gone. And the cycle will just… continue. I’ll keep making more friends, they’ll die, and then I make more friends, and they die, and then-”

Demon Bull King grabbed his wrist, and it was only then that Wukong realized he had raised his hands to his head and had started to dig his claws into his scalp. He carefully pulled his hands away, blinking back the tears that had started to form in his eyes. Not again. He told himself bitterly as he studied Demon Bull King’s sympathetic gaze. “I will not continue this conversation as you asked, but I do believe explaining your issue to the rest would be of great help.” He murmured before turning back to the television to unpause it.

Wukong fell asleep shortly after that. When he woke up the next morning, it was to the sound of soft talking. He let himself lay there in a blissful state between awareness and sleep. Just awake enough so that he could hear what was being said. He recognized one voice as Demon Bull King and the other as Princess Iron Fan. “...slept out here.” Demon Bull King was softly explaining something. Princess Iron Fan gave a hum, and Wukong felt two sets of eyes fall on him.

A moment later, Princess Iron Fan sighed, sympathy lacing her tone as she spoke. “He told you that last night?” She asked, and Demon Bull King must’ve nodded, because she continued. “I’m sure Red Son would be willing to deliver the message to his friends?” She suggested. Demon Bull King huffed out a grunt, and the couch shifted. “He didn’t want to tell me, let alone his friends… We shall allow him to do so when he pleases.” And that seemed to please Princess Iron Fan, as there was a breeze before silence filled the air again. With that, Wukong let sleep claim him once again.

And for a while, it was good again.

But then he got the news. He had been spending time with MK, Mei, Red Son, and Demon Bull King when it happened. It had started out as a friendly conversation until it turned into Wukong and MK versus Red Son and Demon Bull King at foosball while Mei refereed. It had been Princess Iron Fan who arrived with a grievous looking Sandy. He didn’t say anything until they all stopped, staring at him with curious eyes. And then he said it. “Pigsy passed away.”

The reaction was instant for MK and Mei. Wukong watched their faces crumble as tears sprung into their eyes immediately. The hysterical sound of choked sobs and gasps as they launched themselves at Sandy for a hug filled the room. But Wukong didn’t react right away. His hands still had a hold on the handle for one of the sets of the foosball table. He stared at the three for a long, long time, a ringing building in his ears, becoming louder and louder and louder.

The handle snapped in his grasp. Demon Bull King and Red Son looked at him, alarm flashing in their eyes before vanishing into worry. Princess Iron Fan was focused on comforting the other two with Sandy, the four too engulfed in their own troubles to notice. Wukong didn’t notice it either. The way he stared hollowly at a wall as fresh blood dribbled from his hand onto the floor. He’d have to apologize for that later. But at the moment, everything was too loud. The ringing in his ears screamed at him as the world blurred and grew muffled.

His legs wobbled underneath him as he took a staggering step backwards, his body swaying left to right before he straightened up. His gaze remained staring straight ahead even as he looked down, his gaze landing on the splotches of blood that dappled the floor. An ugly, vibrant red. Vaguely, in the back of his mind, he noted that wasn’t normal. He was… he was invincible. He couldn't get hurt. But somewhere else, he registered that the noise had become too much. His vision darkened, and his eyes stung as they started to close, his legs sliding out from underneath him.

Demon Bull King clumsily grabbed one of his sleeves while Red Son scrambled around the table, hand outstretched to help guide the other to the ground. Normally, Wukong wouldn’t display such vulnerability or emotions. But he didn’t care. He let his head loll back as his eyelids flickered, dizziness swamping every one of his senses. The noise of sobs and soft murmuring faded out as the world around him disappeared away into nothing.

It had been his age. Wukong learned that a few days after the news. A few days after when the funeral was being planned. Life was fleeting. It was fading. It was a thing that grew and grew, only to end. When he stared at Mei and MK’s sorrowful faces, he couldn’t help the pain that stabbed at his gut. Of course he mourned Pigsy, but the idea of losing the two of them wasn’t any better. He ended up isolating himself for days before the funeral.

And when the funeral came, he didn’t remember it. Unlike the time where he remembered the speeches, the burial, and the entire service, nothing stuck to him. He remembered sitting down, and then he was laying sprawled out on Sandy’s deck, staring up at the stars overhead. He could hear voices coming from inside of the cabin. The door was cracked open a little, casting a little ray of light across him and the deck. He sought the warmth and comfort of someone else’s presence, but his body felt too heavy to move. He wasn’t in a comfortable position by any means. It felt like he had suddenly fallen backwards.

“Monkey King?” MK appeared at his side. Wukong looked at him sluggishly, blinking slowly, letting his eyes stay closed for longer than they should’ve. “Come inside.” He didn’t ask him to do it. No. He told him. Wukong didn’t argue, however. He pushed himself upright shakily, swaying where he sat for a moment. He took the hand MK offered gratefully. He allowed himself to be pulled to his feet, and he allowed MK to help him stagger into the cabin. And he allowed himself to sit on the couch and lean against the kid before the sweet release of sleep took him away once again.

He spent most of his days sleeping now. He noticed that. He also noticed that when he was awake, he spent most of his time around Mei, MK, and Sandy. And the other thing was that he found Macaque was slowly appearing more and more. The two had begun to spend plenty of time together. Even if that time was just spent sparring or chatting, it was common enough that sometimes MK would get to sit on the sidelines and watch or listen. Wukong never told the others what had happened and how it felt, of course, but he could see it in Macaque’s eyes that he knew something was off.

His sleep schedule had been completely destroyed. He didn’t technically need sleep to survive (thanks to immortality), but he needed it to function. So the fact that the sleep he did get wasn’t enough and was messing up his sleep schedule even more. He didn’t think it was a problem until Sandy had invited the Red Son’s family over onto his boat at MK’s request for a little game night. The two groups had grown close due to the fact that MK and Red Son had also grown close. The two had little nicknames for eachother and were affectionate in a way that Wukong envied.

He didn’t remember it happening. He’d been watching, leaning against the railing of the boat as it rocked, as MK and Red Son played against Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan in a game of bean bag toss. The swaying of the boat had started to lull him in a way that Wukong couldn’t resist. His head bobbed up and down every now and then, his eyes blinking lopsidedly as the scene in front of him faded out more and more with each sway. It wasn’t until the feeling of the ground beneath him vanishing happened that he realized something was wrong.

And then he was in the water.

The immediate terror that surged through him was a rude awakening. He startled back into awareness, his body tensing as he lashed his hands through the water blindly. Sun Wukong was the Monkey King, the great sage equal to heaven. But Sun Wukong could not swim. For a moment, he twisted frantically in the water before something else crashed down next to him. He twisted away sluggishly, his body losing its fight a moment after an arm hooked around his chest and heaved him upright.

He broke the surface with a staggered gasp, throwing his head back with a choked gargle as he spit out some water. He could feel his fur plastered to his body in a way that had to make him look like a wet rat. He clumsily scrabbled at the arm around him until he recognized it was Demon Bull King’s arm. With that, he simply allowed himself to slump. He could feel the other’s staring down at him anxiously, and somewhere behind the static in his ears, he thought he heard them calling his name. But it was all lost in the haze that had wrapped itself around him. Later, he recalled, Princess Iron Fan had a talk with him. Not that he had paid any attention.

He was tired. Tired enough to the point where he found himself hysterical. He had originally thought he was alone on a flower fruit mountain, so he dropped to his knees so suddenly that it would’ve startled anyone nearby. He looked up hollowly at the night stares above, his body trembling. They were laughing at him. The stars. Bitterness surged through him as he slumped forward, catching himself with his forearms as he stared up at the sky. “I don’t want it anymore.”

No response. He should’ve expected it, but it still upset him. His claws sunk into the soft dirt below him as he clenched his jaw, his fur starting to bristle. “I don’t want to be immortal anymore, take it away from me.” He pleaded, his voice tense. When he got no response yet again, he slammed a fist into the ground and bowed his head. “Please!” He shrieked as tears formed in his eyes. “I don’t want it anymore! Please, please, please, please, please!” He threw his head back in a scream, but the noise died in his throat, replaced by a guttural whine.

Two arms snaked around him, but he didn’t jump. Rather, he melted into whoever had wrapped their arms around him, trembling as his world spun. “Please…” He whispered once more, allowing himself to droop. He heard a faint sigh that was followed by the rasping whisper of Macaque, concern fogging his tone. “You should sleep…” It was a soft request, but it didn’t need to be asked of Wukong. He was already out before Macaque had finished his sentence.

—

He didn’t know what came over him when it happened.

It had been another day out with Red Son’s family. It’d been a nice day. Nothing had happened… and it had been years since anyone passed. So many years. So much time for Wukong to wallow and dread and fear. The paranoia had climaxed to an unbearable point. He forced himself to follow after the group as they marched through a trail that weaved through a small bit of forest. It was nearing the end of the day, so they had decided to all head back.

Wukong didn’t remember the trip itself. His mind had been overrun with thoughts of worry that pestered him every little second. He had half walked and half stumbled after MK, who had decided to take up the rear of the group with his former mentor. They had just begun to reach the end of the trail when Wukong couldn’t take it anymore. He reached ahead of him, grabbing onto MK’s sleeve and stopping. MK turned around slowly, tilting his head. “Wukong?”

Wukong held still for a moment before he looked at MK. And MK saw the tiredness in his eyes. He saw the stories Wukong had endured in those eyes. And he saw pain in those eyes. The confusion was replaced by worry immediately. Wukong blinked at him, his eyes glistening as he slowly tilted his head. “Please don’t go.” He finally whispered out in a broken voice, taking a trembling step forward. MK made no questions. He opened his arms as Wukong slumped forward into him, helping to guide the other to the ground. “Please.” He continued.

“I won’t.” MK didn’t know what was happening. Wukong didn’t tell anyone when something was wrong. It was a horrible habit, but he didn’t dare push to get the other to talk about it if he didn’t want to. Wukong’s claws sunk into MK’s shirt as he buried his face into his shoulder, his tail coiling around the two. “Please don’t leave me.” He pleaded, his voice shattering furthermore. A choked gasp jarred his body as MK carefully clung to Wukong, keeping his former mentor steady. As steady as he could, anyways.

“Please. Please don’t go, please- I can’t- please.” The broken pleas ripped at MK. He rubbed Wukong’s back slowly, tilting his head as he murmured a gentle question. “Why would I ever leave you?” He whispered. Footsteps began to approach the two, but Wukong didn’t pull away. His grip tightened as he pressed his face further into MK’s shoulder, a desperate attempt at hiding himself. “I can’t lose you, too.” He rasped out, and the realization dawned on MK. His eyes widened for only a moment before understanding filled them.

“I won’t.”

“I loved them- I loved them and- and I lost them and- god it hurts like hell.” Wukong croaked out. MK hummed acknowledgement, but he didn’t respond. He knew the rest of the group had returned, seeing as they likely noticed they were missing a pair. He didn’t glance over his shoulder to acknowledge them, however. He simply sat there with Wukong, supporting him the best he could. “I know… I know.” He whispered.

“Don’t go. Don’t go.” Wukong scrabbled at his back once more, and MK had to bite back a hiss of pain as his claws nicked him. “I won’t.” He said once more. A set of light footsteps approached and Mei appeared, sliding down onto her knees next to the two. MK fixed her with a look that told it all, and sympathy glazed over her face. She briefly looked at the shaking mess Wukong was before back at MK, then back over to where the others lingered. There was no way to reassure Wukong completely without lying, and even if they did lie, it likely wouldn’t reassure them.

But for now, they would do everything they could.

—

“I’m so tired.”

Macaque looked over at the other monkey that was leaned against his shoulder, staring as sympathy burned through his body. He’d been in an odd state for a long time now, and it didn’t seem to look like it would get any better. He breathed, looking back at the moon that stared down on the two of them, his eyes narrowing. Time had treated the two of them unfairly, leaving both of them ripped and tattered books. It appeared that damage was finally making Wukong’s book fall apart.

“I know.”

“Are you sleeping?”

MK asked the question for what had been the hundredth time that day. Or, well, it felt like it. Wukong looked up from the murky water he was staring at, blinking. He smiled at the kid, albeit a weak attempt, as he gave a thumbs up. “‘Course. Why wouldn’t I be?” He hummed. MK bit back the response that rose in the back of his throat as he turned to head inside. He finished the sentence in the back of his mind.

Because Sandy is sick.

—

Sandy passed-

Wukong didn’t finish reading the letter. He let his arm fall to his side as he breathed out a shaky breath. He was living an undesirable life. He didn’t want his book to be finished. He breathed out another shaky breath as he stood, allowing a cloud to form beneath his feet. It hovered into the air, rising before it began to soar through the air. An odd burning sensation was filling his eyes and running down the sides of his face.

Take it away from me.

The gods had laughed at his plea, throwing their heads back as they howled, churning their feet. He had left, crestfallen and defeated. And he had tried and tried and tried to find a way to get rid of this curse. But nothing worked. Nothing worked. Everyone was growing older now. MK and Red Son were getting married. Mei had her own relationship. Hell- even Demon Bull King and Princess Iron Fan had started their own baking show. And here he was. Stuck. Lamenting.

Life is a game in which the world plays with itself. The cloud began to melt away from beneath him, but he didn’t notice until it was too late. When he was suddenly in a free fall towards the dark water below, he reacted. He twisted through the air, swiping his hands frantically while he churned his legs. A game in which the world plays with itself. A game where the world burns and scratches itself for its own amusement.

He hit the water with a slap that knocked the air out of his lungs. And then he was sinking. For a moment, he twisted helplessly in the water, thrashing as bubbles drifted upwards towards the surface. And I… He opened his mouth on instinct. To breathe, to scream- to do anything. A rush of water came flooding in and he jerked away, but it was too late. He choked and sputtered more, watching helplessly as more bubbles drifted upwards. His chest was burning now. His lungs were on fire. His world was on fire. I am done playing this game.

Wukong felt his body slow down. He felt his racing thoughts slow down as his struggles faded, leaving him sinking further and further. His eyes were burning now. He assumed it was tears, but he couldn’t tell. He let his eyes close as he grew boneless, any and all energy draining out of him.

Release me.

—

Macaque was the one that found him.

Macaque was the one that pulled him out of the water and came, crawling with Wukong on his back, to Princess Iron Fan’s home.

It was Macaque who was there when Wukong awoke.

And the first thing the Monkey King did when he woke up was cry. Hysterical, choked sobs as he clung to Macaque.

Horrible sounds thickened in the back of his throat as he mindlessly clawed at Macaque’s clothing for some sort of grip.

Torn pages.

He was a book with torn pages.

Ripped by time and all those who had treated him wrong.

A book forever ruined.

—

“Get up, hm? We’re gonna go for a walk.”

Wukong got up when Macaque asked him to.

“Let’s spar.”

Wukong got up when MK asked him to.

“Come over.”

Wukong got up when Demon Bull King asked him to.

That’s what he had done, anyways. Now, when anyone asked him to stand, he fixed them with a blank stare.

And he did not get up.

“No!”

When MK fell, Wukong’s stomach sank. He hadn’t expected much from the fight. MK had phoned him in for some help against a particularly nasty dust demon. It ended up involving Red Son’s family as well as Mei. Turned out the dust demon was far more formidable than expected. Still, Wukong didn’t think anything would have happened. But then MK fell. And Wukong snapped.

Forgetting the battle, he lurched towards MK. He scrambled, stumbling over his feet as pillars of dust rose around MK’s body, preparing to drive for the final blow. Wukong barreled through one of them, ignoring the stings of pain that crawled over his skin as he did so. He landed lopsided standing over MK on all fours, tail lashing. His gaze darted around feverishly for a moment before he grabbed MK and launched himself out of the attack area.

He allowed a cloud to form underneath him as he hastily scrambled to pull him and MK up into the air. Once his feet connected with the cloud, he fell back from the battle. Not quite retreating, as he stayed within earshot of the fight, but far away enough to where he would be safe. He carefully sprawled MK out on his back, his stomach churning. He was a face, splattered with blood and bruises that had already turned his skin ugly shades of yellow and purple.

“No, no, no-” He whispered out in a broken voice, pressing his hands close together. A small orb of yellow formed between them, flickering and sparking before vanishing. “C’mon.” He tried again. The orb sputtered hopefully before sizzling away once more. His tail began to lash in irritation as he tried and tried again. “Heal him- heal him, god, work already! Work!” He snarled, watching yet another orb fizzle out. “C’mon!” He snapped, trying again. Nothing happened.

“Fix him!” He hissed at himself as he tried yet again. Try and try he might, but nothing changed. The wounds didn’t magically heal. MK didn’t sit up and blink dazedly as he always did. He did nothing. Wukong frantically scrambled to shake him, his hands grabbing MK’s shoulders as he hunched over the other. “C’mon, c’mon, c’mon, c’mon…” He whispered under his breath before giving up. He resorted to chest compressions, frantically pressing his palms against MK’s chest to try and revive him. “Don’t take him. Please please please- take me instead. Please.” He strained out. His eyes were burning, now. He blinked bitterly, gritting his teeth as he slumped back, hanging his head. He sat there, heaving in and out rasping breaths. MK wasn’t getting up.. Mk was gone.

The world fell silent.

And suddenly, Wukong collapsed. The cloud drifted to the ground slowly, melting away as he threw himself over MK’s body. He wasn’t sobbing, however. He wasn’t making any noises. HIs gaze lingered on the ending battle ahead, eyes wide and unseeing. Tears were making streaks down the sides of his faces. It was a haunting sight. A book broken by time.

Red Son approached first. His shouting was muffled by the static and ringing in his ears. But Wukong saw the way his face fell. He saw the way the hope in his eyes drained as his joyous prance slowly shifted into a frantic sprint. He collapsed onto his knees by MK and Wukong, and the Monkey King pulled away dazedly. He slouched, staring at the ground where MK had just been laying. Red Son had pulled him close to his chest, frantically whispering to the other as he patted his cheek.

“Please.”

It wasn’t enough.

“Love, MK, wake up.”

He failed.

“I’m here.”

I’m sorry.

Mei came next, dropping down next to Red Son. He listened to the two wail MK’s name, voices shrill and trembling through the air. It hurt his ears, but he didn’t move to cover them. He had to save him. He had to. He had to give him his invincibility back. It would save him. It had to. He began to reach forward, but the world around him spun as he moved. He slumped forward, just barely managing to catch himself with his hands. His gaze slowly slid towards MK’s hand that dangled against the dirt lifelessly. He let himself droop to the ground, trembling as he reached a shaking hand forward. He grabbed onto MK’s head, ignoring the cold skin that bit at him, and he closed his eyes.

The world around him faded away as a horrible burning sensation washed over him.

—

”You finally made it.”

Wukong looked up, blinking rapidly. His body didn’t hurt anymore. He flexed his hands, slowly spinning around. There wasn’t… anything around him. It was just a white void. He furrowed his eyebrows together, frowning. He had heard someone… he was sure of it. They sounded familiar. Familiar in a way that made his skin crawl. He began to spin around slowly once more, looking around until-

“Tang?”

“Tang” laughed, shaking his head softly. “No, Wukong… You know who I am.” He breathed. Wukong stared at him for a moment, holding his breath. And then it hit him. His eyes widened slowly as he sucked in sharply, his mouth opening. No words came out, however. The other smiled softly, opening their arms. “Come here.” He murmured, and Wukong moved. It was a slow stagger, at first, his footsteps uneasy and lopsided. And then he ran, hurling himself into the other with a cry.

And for the first time in a long time, he breathed. He let himself cry. He let himself shake with a fury that he couldn’t control. “I missed you, Tripitaka.” He croaked out shakily. The other hummed, slowly rubbing circles on his back. “I’ve been watching you Wukong…” He said, and Wukong froze for a moment. He slowly pulled away, brushing a few lingering tears out of his eyes. “You… You have?” He whispered. Tripitaka nodded, tilting his head. “The world has not treated you kindly.”

Wukong shook his head mutely, looking down. He had pleaded and prayed for a way out, and now… now he wasn’t sure where he was. Tripitaka must’ve seen the question coming, as he extended a hand in a grand gesture. “This is what comes after the world…” He explained. The startling answer made Wukong’s fur bristle. “Am I dead?” He pointed at himself, blinking a few times. He got a nod and his heart skipped a beat.

”Is MK-” He broke off as Tripitaka rested a hand on his shoulder. “MK is fine… you saved him.” He murmured. Wukong exhaled a shaky breath of release, allowing himself to relax for only a moment before he tensed. “Where’s Baije? And Wujing?” He asked. Tripitaka gave Wukong a wistful smile. “They’re waiting… I came here to get you.” He trailed off, however, his eyes flashing. Wukong grabbed his wrist, leaning forward and tilting his head. “What? What is it?”

”Your friends miss you.”

Wukong froze for a moment. He pulled his hands away, breathing shakily. That’s right… MK was alive now. But he… “Wukong… I do not break the natural order of the world, but I offer you this one time and one time only.” Tripitaka began, a seriousness seeping into his tone. “I will allow you to return back to the world.” He paused. “Or you may stay here…”

Silence.

Wukong glanced at the white void beneath him nervously. Staying here… staying here sounded wonderful. But at the same time, the bite of pain from leaving MK and the others gnawed away at his insides. One way or another, he would eventually end up here after all. His tail curled around his left leg as he looked at Tripitaka hesitantly. “I’ll miss them.”

“They will miss you, too.”

—

“...ukong? Wukong?”

“Monkey King?!”

“-etting up?”

Wukong squeezed his eyes shut against the voices, his face contorting into a grimace. His body hurt. A horrible, throbbing, aching sensation that coursed through his limbs and veins, lighting his system on fire. He shifted uncomfortably against whatever he was laying on (it was stiff and cold, he didn’t like that). His lungs rattled as he breathed, as if there were bits of gravel trapped in them being shaken with each inhale and exhale.

“Wukong. Get up.” Whatever he was leaning on moved, a cold, large blob grasping his shoulder and jostling him. He grimaced again, unable to hold back the whine that rose in the back of his throat. But he forced his eyes open. Slowly, painfully slow, he pried his eyelids open, blinking a few times dazedly as the blurry scene around him slowly came back into color. He recognized the area immediately. It was where they had been fighting the dust demon… MK.

“MK-” He lurched upright, only to stop and fold in on himself as pain lanced through his ribs. He wrapped his arms around himself, choking out a pained gasp as he bowed his head. “Take it easy, old friend…” A deep voice rumbled from behind him. Demon Bull King. He blinked a few times as he slowly looked up, dazedly glancing around. “Where’s MK…” He croaked out, his head swaying unevenly.

“Red Son is checking on him with Princess Iron Fan.” Mei was there. Wukong hadn’t noticed that. He looked at her, his eyes half-lidded. “‘S he okay?” He slurred out. She nodded vigorously, her lips pressed into a tight line. “He’s good… thanks to you.” She looked away, a look between guilt and sadness flashing in her eyes. Wukong made no comment about it. He glanced over his shoulder at Demon Bull King, who was looking at him with a grateful stare. Wukong put on a weak, strained smile before he began to move.

He rose unsteadily to his feet, ignoring the pain that bit at him. Mei rose to help him, offering herself as a support (which Wukong gladly took). Demon Bull King trailed behind as Mei helped Wukong hobble towards the others. MK was talking excitedly, spewing out words frantically while Red Son waved his hands at him to calm down. Princess Iron Fan had settled to stare with an overwhelmed, but amused, look. She noticed the others approaching first, as she quickly strode forward to meet Demon Bull King.

MK looked away from Red Son, who was muttering something crossly under his breath. His gaze fell on Wukong and Wukong saw his heart skip a beat. It felt like it anyway. “Monkey King!” MK let out a shriek as he raced forward, slamming into Wukong. The force made him stagger backwards. Thankfully, Mei helped him stay upright as MK clung to him. “I thought you were dead!” MK cried out, and Wukong couldn’t stop the jolt of shock when he heard the wobble in his voice. He was crying.

Tears began to sting at his eyes as he let out a weak laugh, wrapping his arms around MK as well. “I thought I lost you…” He whispered, closing his eyes as he burrowed his face into MK’s shoulder. MK didn’t respond, and Wukong was honestly glad he didn’t. For a moment, he just sat there and relished in the hug, taking into every bit of warmth he could get. He inhaled and exhaled deeply, allowing himself to sink against MK. When his legs gave out beneath him, MK held him up for a moment. Then, he slowly lowered the two to the ground.

“You saved me.” MK murmured after a moment. Wukong raised his head from MK’s shoulder, opting to rest his shoulder on it instead. “Yeah, bud?” He hummed, his tail flicking behind him. MK breathed out a shaky breath, his fingers curling into the back of Wukong’s shirt. “Thank you…” He rasped out. Wukong tried to hold back the tremble that wracked his body, but he failed. He let out a shaky exhale, the noise choked as he looked up, blinking rapidly at the sky.

“I couldn’t lose anyone else.”

—

Wukong was better.

He got better. He did better. He was happier than he had been. More playful, not to mention. But all good things had to come to an end. It was still difficult when Mei died. He didn’t spiral as much, this time. MK was there for him. And when MK started to show signs of the inevitable, Wukong was there for him. It still stung, of course. Years after it happened, he still found himself sobbing miserably at night sometimes. It was a horrible thing.

“You coming?”

Wukong glanced up from the gravestone, looking at the source of the voice. Macaque was standing a few yards away, his scarf blowing in the breeze. Wukong nodded, looking back at the stone. “I’ll be there in a second.” He murmured back. Macaque didn’t make any comment, but Wukong heard him walk away. He exhaled a sigh, carefully reaching forward to rest a hand on the stone. “I miss you, bud.” He murmured before he rose, standing on his two feet to follow after Macaque.

And years later, when he finally managed to get his immortality taken away from him, he relished in the darkness that followed the cold. He relished in the sight of his friends, tears racing down the sides of his face as he greeted them. It had been so many years since he had last seen or talked to any of them, and he couldn’t have been happier to see them all once again. And it was still the same. Even there, in what came after life, MK could still read him. He could still understand his body language. And while Wukong was battered and beaten, MK never spoke of it.

He ignored the torn pages of the book.

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