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rrasado · 3 years

Note

Yo! If that's okay could i request the brothers (or some of the of your choice) reacting to a teen mc who already has a pact with a demon long before coming to the Devildom and this demon is pretty much their (very protective) guardian/caretaker? Like, the demon is really sweet and gentle with MC and babies them constantly but they're wary of the brothers (Nothing romantic, just platonic hcs!) Feel free to ignore if i'm bothering you!

Congrats on the 400 followers!!💞

Who’s The Guardian?

On another episode of “why didn’t I see this in my inbox before-“ but this is such a cute request.

I...haven’t played OMSWD in half a year ;-;. I never got past lesson 40 so, sorry in advanced for the OOC-

When you already have a pact

Lucifer

...is caught off guard, big time.

He probably skimmed through your files and records but not once did the thought of a seemingly innocent teenager already having a pact with a demon prior the exchange program crossed his mind.

That’s coming from someone who overthinks a lot.

As the so called right hand man of the young lord himself, he’ll want to conduct a thorough investigation on whoever this demon is. He can’t risk sullying the honor of Diavolo because of some minor slip up.

Under the guise of a friendly get together he asks MC to invite their demon pact mate over for a nice afternoon tea. Harmless correct? Well that -less becomes -ful when the demon immediate smothers their favorite human with such rare affections he didn’t knew demons were capable of.

He’ll attempt to be discreet about his intentions but, it seems the demon is more vocal about their displeasure of finding out that their dear human is living with seven of the most powerful demons in hell. So lucifer would blatantly put on a facade to keep the dignity of the council and the prince at peace. But if it were up to him...

“We all care for the human’s well being yes? A little cooperation is to be called for”

Mammon

...Feels betrayed. And disappointed

He...wasn’t MC’s first- oh god the others are laughing at him as we speak aren’t they.

Would probably try to not so discreetly compare himself to the demon, arms crossed™️

Is that why MC was so fast in making a pact with him? Like no fear whatsoever because they’ve already done this before? Now he feels dumber than before

It all ultimately ends with..the demon and mammon trying to out do each other when it comes to spoiling Mc whether material wise or affection, of course mammon is at a disadvantage given how much he denies his concern for not being Mc’s first.

But in the end, if anything bad no matter how small happens to the two demon’s beloved human, they’d probably set aside their differences and hunt down the source. It’s a whole other story if the source was mammon-

“Oi the human also has a pact with me Ya got that!”

Leviathan

...is both amazed and disdained.

On one hand- HOLY SHI- YOU’RE YOUNGER THAN MOST SUMMONERS AND YOU ALREADY HAVE A PACT? THAT’S SO SHOUNEN-

And on the other hand- wow...you’re such a normie for being able to pull in other races, what in the name of damned friendship is this-

But that disdain turns to envy, whether envying you or the demon sometimes it’s interchangeable- because he wished he was also that cared for. Being able to be brought gifts or being protective over- it’s the otome dream he’s secretly wanted.

But once he realizes that the demon just genuinely cares for MC, for whatever reason- he seems to understand along the way, maybe he to wishes to protect one of the few people that willingly put up with him with a wild smile. Teen mutuality huh.

He might even invite their demon pact mate over for a game or two- heck if things go well they three might even become a triumvirate. Overall he’ll learn to get along with them but...it’ll take a good while djdndnbd.

“H-hey...ya sure you wanna hang out with someone as yucky as me? Ah- wait I have games for three here somewhere.”

Satan

...Is highly intrigued suffice it to say.

The guy was highly enthralled when you managed to even make a pact with him through hard work and it seems there was a much farther history as to why.

Unlike the first born however, he’d be actually successful in hiding his true intentions when he decided to investigate whoever demon managed to wind up with the young human in the first place.

Those detective novels did him good Huh-

On a more serious note. He’d actually be encouraging to a certain extent until the demon directs their threats to him. Like how dare this lowly bastard make a point to the Avatar sin of Wrath- oh it was for MC’s sake...hard pass-

At one point he’s probably the closest to this demon in terms of peace next to Beelzebub since he’s the most serene of the brothers. Overall neutral to them unless the demon gives him a reason to.

“It’s nice to see the human having someone to lean on to...I wonder what would happen if that support were to suddenly collapse”

Asmodeus

...is sappy to the brim

Look at the lovely human already catching demons with finesse! Proud wine aunt moment™️. And the fact that it was prior to the program? Damn the kid has more potential than he thought.

At first the demon themself is gonna- Ehe carry MC away everytime asmo ties coming in but. With a little nudge and convincing they’d probably stay to listen to Asmo.

Trust me when I say these three will go shopping every weekend once everyone is comfortable with each other. And for what it’s worth they might even get matching outfits.

Asmo would probably try and nitpick how MC even managed to wind up in a pact with a demon without knowledge of the Devildom in the first place but at the same time he thinks it adds to the younger’s charm

These three end up being the child the mom and wine aunt dynamic and y’all can’t convince me otherwise.

“Ehh~? Oh don’t look so weary it’s bad for your face darling~”

Beelzebub

...For some reason happy.

Is this why MC managed to make a pact with his brothers so easily in so little time? Is this why the teen never seems to be bothered by any of his brothers’ threats? Overall he’s happy that you have experience.

He remembers something oddly like this...but in his case he didn’t had experience prior the fall wow way to go at angsting this am I right-

Because unlike him, a being millennia old was so confused of what’s in store for hell after the fall but he had no choice but to grit his teeth and bare the fear.

And someone so young managed to get a taste of a fraction of that experience but here was MC...laughing without a care whilst this other demon places a protective arm in front of them as they interrogate beel- oh wait they were talking to him-

Food as peace offering? You bet, thankfully they did settle with food and unlike first impressions- the demon actually is the most sensible to beel seeing as he was one of the few who...didn’t actively attempt to kill their human- in fact, the demon is probably the one to inform Beel of what demon food the young teen can actually eat and what they prefer.

“I see...ah, would you maybe wanna join us? Food always tastes better when shared”

Belphegor

...could care less until they talk about the whole time universe killing thing-

Ohhh boy- belphie run I’m telling you run- no beel won’t defend you on this one in fact I think I see mammon running with the demon but belphie run boy run-

In all seriousness him and the demon will take the longest to get into terms. Heck not even Mc’s convincing has effect, because the demon really really doesn’t like the avatar of sloth for good reason.

Depending on how the demon even winded up with MC. Belphie would also not like the demon.

That...is until something actually bad happens to MC-

The demon might blindly pin it on belphie but the thing is- he’s also panicking because if he and his brothers were there and the demon was there- wHO TF IS WITH THE TEENAGER-

He...didnt want to have what he did to MC happen again. Let him be the last one to harm the spunky human. I even considered him and the demon to never actually get along no matter how long of a time but...again it all depends on the Hows and Whys.

“I...Care for them as much as you do. Just- Tsk... I don’t need you to believe me.”

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deardragonbook · 3 years

Text

Those really weird dream sequences and when are they good?

I used to think that almost all dream sequences in books were bad. I don’t recall what books I was reading at the time but I specifically recall them being just a bunch of nonsense.

Until one day, I read one that didn’t only entice me, but I read it three times in a row. Why the desperation? Because it was telling me something. Although what it was telling me wasn’t essential, just foreshadowing and food for theories, I just wanted to know. No. I needed to know.

So, bad dream sequences are the ones that don’t serve a purpose. It’s just a bunch of shocking imagery for the sake of it, because you need some excitement but the next action scene is too far away.

Or because you have a cool image in your head and you think despite it’s lack of relation to the story it will entice your reader regardless. Perhaps you like other people’s dream sequences and don’t know what you like about them.

For me, a good dream sequence tells you something, perhaps gives you some important details about a characters past, perhaps some insight on their emotional state, it tells us about what they’re worried about, it’s tell us what they’re scared of.

I think the most important thing is to know what you’re trying to express before writing the sequence. Choose the essential details and then mix in some less-esential but in no way irrelevant ones.

Let’s use an example from my writing, spoilers ahead for Act 1 of Oppida Institute for Reformation (obviously, slight spoilers, it’s available for free in the link at the bottom of the post if you’d like to read it and then come back!):

Slumber came fast, but it was not pleasant. She found herself in the Institute, her arm was hurting, why was her arm hurting? She looked down at it to see it was bleeding. Why was it bleeding? She turned her arm over, but couldn't find where the blood came from. She hummed and began to walk towards the exit.

She knew this building. She hated it. But she knew it. She reached the familiar door, pushed. Nothing, it wouldn't budge. She hummed again and wondered off to find a window. But there were none.

She was tired. So she headed upstairs, towards her room, she needed somewhere to sleep. The building had been empty up until now, but when she entered the hallway with the rooms it was full. There was a child at every door.

They were younger than Elizabeth. She didn't know who any of them were, they didn't have names, but she somehow knew they were from the Institute.

They looked at her. Or past her? No. Definitely at her.

"Hello?" she couldn't hear her own voice, but they reacted to it by tilting their heads.

She didn't know who they were, until it dawned on her, they were the children who she hadn't got to in time. She looked at them closer. They all had cuffs on their wrists. The cuffs she'd worn when thrown into the carriage.

She looked down at the ground, it wasn't stone anymore but wood. She looked back up, the walls were wood, the doors to the rooms were now all like the exit to the carriage. The ground began to move and she lost her balance falling to the ground.

She heard banging, it was the sound of her banging on the exit of the carriage.

She gasped for breath. Before waking up in a cold sweat in her bed at the orphanage. She was crying. She was crying loudly.

Thankfully her room mate was missing, nobody noticed.

Okay, so what was the goal with this scene? Context for those who haven’t read the story: Act 1 consists of Elizabeth infiltrating what is believed to be an abusive institution to find evidence. She finds this evidence but is promptly found out and nearly “shipped off” in a wooden carriage fighting for survival.

She is rescued before anything truly bad can happen to her. However, she’s shown to be quite stressed and her attitude towards the adults in charge further hint that the events are having a larger impact than she wants them to know about. However, this is the moment where all readers should realize how deep the trauma runs.

Prior to writing the sequence, I knew I needed to show the Institute, the carriage and the children. The Institute being the origin of the trauma, the carriage being the overflow and the children being her largest regret. The children who came before her, who she didn’t arrive in time to save.

Okay, so three things to work with. What about the other details? Where do they come from? Let’s take a look by listing them:

-Pain/bleeding in her arm: this a quick early hint at what’s to come for those who read the chapters in order. In the carriage she banged her shoulder and in extension her arm against the wooden door. Although not stated because of the adrenaline and the lack of relative importance, this is something painful and damaging. This is also foreshadowing to the next chapter where she is taken down with an odd amount of ease, partly due to exhaustion from this nightmare, but also partly due to invisible injuries needing recovery.

-Locked door and no windows: obviously representing the feeling of being trapped that she had while living there.

-Being tired and heading to her old room: it shows how despite being back home, she still holds that instinct from the time she was there.

-The building being empty except for children: after she found evidence obviously the building was emptied, employees were arrested, children returned to safe homes. But in Elizabeth’s mind, it’ll never be fully empty, for it still holds those children who weren’t allowed to ever go home.

-The children standing at the doors: this is a throwback to this exact thing happening at the Institute.

-The children being younger than Elizabeth: This one is interesting because in the actual story, it’s mentioned that Elizabeth’s the same age as most of the attendants. Why make them younger here? Because Elizabeth perceives them as such. She’s an apprentice, a guard to be, responsible, mature. They’re children that need protecting. It’s her job to protect them. Just like an older kid to a younger child.

(Plus children are always spookier).

-Not being sure about where they are looking: Who’s to blame for them not making it? They look past her, at the real culprits, but ultimately Elizabeth still blames herself so they’re eyes return to her.

-Not being able to hear her own voice: This is just something that happens (to me) often in dreams. And that’s another thing you can incorporate into dream sequences, actual realistic things from dreams, it can help sell and seal the scene. It also adds to the spooky factor and makes the wooden noise coming up later stronger and more impactful.

-The sudden recognition: Another thing stolen from my actual dreams. I often am confused as to who people are until my brain fills me in on the story it’s trying to tell.

Obviously I don’t expect anybody to pick up on all of these details, especially not to this extent. I expect some are obvious, while some are near impossible. I expect there are details I did not add on purpose but people will over read, or read differently. But the point is, there are details, there are layers. There’s nothing wrong with readers giving stuff their own twist!

Plus, nothing is added in just for the visual affects or to sound spooky. There is thought behind these random details.

Another thing to note about this scene is the point of view and the pacing. Usually I’m a lot more to the point with my writing, asking questions and giving a lot of opinion create a slower pace I’m not always a fan off. But this is a different plane, mixing up the pacing and showing a lot more of Elizabeth’s feelings helps separate it from the real world.

It helps set the tone and more importantly, it allows for more impact in the final scene.

The final scene, the climax of the dream sequence, the whole place turning to wood, the noise and the feeling of the ground moving. It’s an example of a scene that uses the senses, only missing smell here. But we don’t usually experience things so vividly in dreams, right? Well, that’s why she wakes up. That’s why it’s the climax.

I think it also helps to think of every dream sequence as it’s own little story, with it’s introduction, midpoint and climax. You can also consider them as little chapters if you’re going to have several, but be careful with overusing dream sequences! Especially if you do like I do and mix up the pace, if a reader enjoys your writing style, having that style change often may be frustrating.

Anyways, I hope this made sense. I don’t know if using an example from a story few of you will have read is a good idea because a lot of the details won’t make sense on their own, but it’s something I had easy access to and actually knew everything about.

Did it work for you? Would you rather I try to make something up next time? Feel free to tell me, I aim to imrpove, as we all do.

As usual, check out my socials and book here. Also, my Wattpad is in there, so if you enjoyed this small extract from Opida’s Institute for Reformation, you can read twenty three chapters of it for free! Plus a new chapter every Tuesday.

What’s your favorite dream sequence from a book you’ve read?

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pthalomars · 4 years

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Grounding

Cole stood outside of Kai’s door, a sour feeling pooling in his gut. It was late, he would undoubtedly be asleep. Why should he wake him up? Just so he can have someone to remind him that he’s real? That he’s alive- well, sort of..

It just felt like so much of a burden to put on his friend. However, Cole couldn’t ignore the feelings of dissociation that crept through his fragile mind.

Ever since he had been turned into a ghost, he could never really ground himself; both in the literal and psychological sense. It was hard for him to feel present when he struggled to hold a plate in his hands. His barely corporeal form seemed to phase through surroundings like there was nothing there. Maybe it was him that wasn’t really there. Everything was so cold. So distant. Now more than ever, he felt like if he didn’t have someone to bring him down to earth, that he might fade away all together.

Straining with concentration, Cole focused enough energy to knock on Kai’s door. It came out a bit louder than anticipated, upon which he cringed and recoiled his hand. The drawn out moment of silence made him reconsider his options. Maybe this was a bad idea after all.

However, just as he was about to tuck tail and run, a shuffling sound arose behind the wooden door. Footsteps slowly approached the threshold. Cole held his breath as the door creaked open and the bleary eyed fire master looked up at him.

“Cole?” Kai mumbled, rubbing the sleep from his eyes, “ ‘s early, what’s up..?”

“Ah, erm..” Cole began, “I’m sorry I-I know it’s probably not the best time, but can I uh.. I just.. I need someone.” The earth ninja began to crack his knuckles and wrists, each one letting out a dull, muffled pop. A nervous habit.

Kai looked at him, drowsiness subsiding enough for him to put the pieces together. Cole’s hunched posture, tired eyes, furrowed brows, and wavering voice. He nodded, opening up his door and allowing his friend to enter.

“Watch your step, sorry it’s a little messy in here.” Kai warned. Lighting a small flame on his finger, Kai led Cole to his bedside.

“So what’s goin’ on?” Kai asked softly, patting the space next to him on the mattress. After a beat, Cole moved to sit, letting out a dismal sigh. The bed sank beneath his weight, pushing him and Kai to be attached at the hip.

“Nothing feels real anymore, Kai.” Cole said plainly. His friend looked at him with concern, but refrained from interrupting. The black ninja continued.

“Ever since this,” he gestured to himself, “I just feel so.. Distant. Cold. Everything is so far away- I’m so far away. I don’t really feel anything anymore. I’m just..” He looked at Kai, hazy greens locking with deep browns, “I’m scared.”

Kai’s brows pinched upwards as he eyed his friend. He knew the transformation had affected him, but he didn’t realize it was to this extent. Though he had never been turned into a spirit, he knew what it felt like to lose his ground.

There had been times in his past when he became so high strung that he couldn’t come back down on his own. It was moments like that when Nya would swoop in and anchor him. She always knew how to help calm his nerves, and as time passed, he was able to do it himself. Maybe now, he could do the same for his aching friend.

“Cole, I’m.. god, I’m so sorry. I can see that you’re hurting, and I wanna help. What do you need?” Kai said, turning to face the larger man.

Cole’s gaze dropped to his hands, pausing before muttering his answer. “I think I need someone to hold onto. Like an anchor. If that.. Makes sense. If I have someone there to hold me down, the fading feeling usually goes away.”

“You need someone to ground you?”

“Mhm.”

“I can do that. There’s something my sister showed me that I think might work. It’s a mix of physical contact and mutual breathing exercises. But there’s another element I want to add. I think it might help you feel better.”

“Sure, I’m willing to try anything.” Cole said before shifting to face Kai. The two of them sat criss cross and the red ninja held out his hands with his palms up.

“Cole, I’ve seen you be able to touch and hold things with your hands. Can you tell me how you do that?”

“I uh, well I usually have to put a lot of concentration into a part of my body that needs to be solid. It takes a lot of energy, but if I try hard enough, I can maintain it.”

“In that case, I want you to put all of your concentration into your hands. Then put your hands in mine.”

Cole hesitates, but then takes a deep breath and begins to pool his focus into his palms. A strange tingling sensation spreads from the tips of his fingers, up to the knuckles and ending at his wrists. He lowers his hands and prays that they don’t fall through Kai’s. They fall through.

Seeing Cole become visibly upset, Kai chimes in. “It’s okay buddy, you don’t have to get it on the first run. Just try again, and take your time, alright?”

“Okay” the larger man sighs. Once again, he channeled his energy into his hands.

“Remember to breathe,” Kai says in a soft, low voice. Cole obliges, letting air fill his lungs and leave in a steady flow. With closed eyes, he lowers his hands again. They don’t fall through.

“Good! You’re doing great, Cole. Keep that concentration, okay? Let your hands become heavier and heavier. I’ll make sure to hold the weight.” Kai encouraged. The smaller man noted the soft gravity of his friend’s hands in his own. Even in his ghostly state, the calluses of his hands felt so tangible. His fingers were thick and his palms were wide, and his nails had been bitten so very short. Another nervous habit.

“Alright, Cole, I’m gonna breathe with you. Just follow my lead.” Kai said before taking in a large breath through his nose. The master of earth followed suit, mimicking his friend as he exhaled through his mouth. Cole opted to keep his eyes closed as he did this, instead trying to focus on his breathing and keeping his hands from slipping through Kai’s.

“You’re doing good, keep breathing just like that, okay? Now there’s one more thing I’d like to try. You said that you feel cold, like really cold, right?” said Kai. Cole hummed in response.

“I’m gonna channel some of my fire into my hands. Not a lot, but just enough to heat up my palms. I’m thinking maybe the heat will make the physical touch more grounding. Are you okay with that?”

“Yeah, I’m okay with that.”

“Okay good, you just let me know if it gets too hot.” With that, Kai gently tightened his grip on Cole’s hands and let his element flow freely. Like coals in a fire pit, his palms began to glow with a soft warmth.

“Do you feel anything?” the brunette asked.

“Not yet.”

Kai added more heat.

“Feel it?”

“No.”

He added more heat.

“Anything?”

“A little bit. It’s faint, but there’s something.”

He then added more heat. At this point, Kai was worried about whether or not ghosts were capable of getting burned.

“It’s warm..” Cole murmured. He opened his eyes to see the light of Kai’s fire glowing through his own translucent hands.

“How does it feel? Does it help?” Kai asked, his eyes searching for an answer in Cole’s expression.

“Good, it feels good. Grounding.”

“I’m glad. We can stay like this as long as you need, Cole.”

“Thank you, Kai.”

The two of them sat together, hand in hand, for what felt like an eternity. Not that either of them could complain. Cole let himself be brought back to reality by the warm hands that anchored him down. Kai quietly enjoyed the subtle intimacy of the physical contact.

Cole finally broke the comfortable silence that hung tenderly between them.

“I’m feeling a lot better. Thank you, genuinely. I can’t tell you how much I needed this.”

“Yeah, of course! And if you ever need me, all you gotta do is ask. And as for this-” Kai gestures to their hands, “You don’t even need to ask for that. Just grab me when you need to come back down, okay?”

“Thank you.. I-I really appreciate that.” Cole felt a soft blush blooming on his cheeks. He couldn’t deny that he had wanted to hold Kai’s hands for other reasons. However, he decided that those reasons weren’t relevant in the moment.

“Anything for you, man.” Kai affirmed, giving Cole’s hands a squeeze before pulling away to rub his eyes. Sleep had begun to creep up on him as the time had passed. Cole glanced at the red numbers on his friend’s digital clock. He noted how it was strange that time had escaped them.

“Jeez, sorry I know it’s late-”

“Don’t worry about that, I promise I don’t mind.”

“You sure?”

“Yeah, and it’s not like the sun is up yet. There’s still time to catch some z’s.”

“You have a good point. Well, I won’t keep you up too much longer, I can head out if you want. I think I’ll be able to get some sleep now that I’m feeling better.”

“Did you want to stay?”

“Stay?”

“Yeah, like, stay the night. You don’t have to, obviously, but I just figured that maybe you wanted company.”

“That would.. Be nice, actually. Are you sure I wouldn’t be intruding?”

“Not at all, and I’d be lying if I said I wouldn’t appreciate the company either.”

“Ah, fishing for a cuddle buddy I see.”

“I never said that,” Kai let out a chuckle, lightly punching Cole’s shoulder. It was solid.

“Well I wouldn’t mind, even if you did.” the larger man retorted, landing a similar punch on Kai’s shoulder.

The two of them weren’t strangers to that level of physicality. Though, most previous instances were purely platonic; like resting on each other during long ship rides, laying together on the couch with the rest of their friends for movie nights, and keeping contact with each other in most settings. This should be the same, but both of them felt a slightly different twinge in their hearts.

This whole grounding experience had strengthened their bond and brought them closer. Both of them usually had trouble expressing their emotions, so this was a huge step forward.

“Then get over here, why dontcha?” Kai chuckled, flopping backwards. Cole chortled, slowly crawling up to be next to his friend. The smaller man reached his arm out to the side, allowing for the black ninja to curl up against him. With a sigh, the noirette let his head rest gently on Kai’s chest. The quiet beat of his heart vibrated against his ear and he let his eyelids grow heavy until they shut completely. For the first time in a while, he slept through the rest of the night.

#ninjago #kai smith #colebrookstone #lavashipping #ninjago fic #ninjago fanfiction

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firstofficerwiggles · 4 years

Text

Chapter 2: Adventures in Space Babysitting

Link to Chpt. 1, Chpt. 3

Pairing: The Mandalorian x female reader

Rating: T

Warnings: Mild swearing, sexual arousal, references to sexual relationships, canonical violence

Word Count:~5600

Summary: Caretaker reader is settling into her job and she realizes she has a crush on Mando. Some fluff, action, and little angst in this chapter.

Author’s Note: Welcome to Chpt. 2! I haven’t really written anything with angst before so I hope you think that part went okay. Thanks for reading!

The little green body launches itself up onto your bed yet again waking you in the early hours of the morning. The child snuggles up close to your chest and you can’t help but rub his little back with soothing motions. You have tried to get the child on a routine these past few weeks, and this seems to be the one pattern he’s most pleased to follow every day. The first time he showed up in your bed you thought Mando had placed him there as a subtle hint that it was your turn to be on child duty. However, when you heard Mando frantically looking for the toddler that first morning, you knew the little one had managed to sneak his way over to you all on his own. Neither you nor Mando know much about the child’s life before Mando rescued him, but it seems to you that it must have been difficult, because he appears to be starved for affection and he seeks it out every chance he gets. You’ve always been a cuddler yourself though so you are happy to oblige him and honestly although it means you don’t get to sleep as much as you used to, you love your early morning snuggles with him. Besides, it helps keep your mind off how much you’d like to snuggle Mando.

This silly crush on Mando has hit you out of nowhere and you feel like a complete fool for even acknowledging it. You suppose it can’t be helped to a certain extent, as he has to be hands down the nicest man in the entire galaxy, implausible as it may seem. He’s a gun-for-hire, rough and tough bounty hunter, covered in armor and weapons, and yet he has been nothing but thoughtful and respectful towards you. When you first spoke to him about establishing a better schedule for the child and working on some developmental milestones, he listened carefully and encouraged you to do what you felt was best. Other men you’ve known in the past would have questioned your recommendations or only half-listened to you dismissively. But Mando asked thoughtful questions that showed you he valued your opinions and then he was sure to comment on how well things were going after you began implementing the changes. You couldn’t remember the last time an employer gave you a compliment on your work, and it was just nice.

Then there was the first time he brought back a bounty to the ship. He’d been gone for about two days and when he returned, he was dragging a large alien man behind him. While you tried not to be overly curious, you couldn’t help but watch him as he manhandled the guy into the carbonite freezer. You were impressed with his strength, but it also made you feel a little bit wary as he next strode over towards you and the child. Your cautiousness melted away quickly though as Mando placed a bag of berries on the crate sitting next to you, mentioning that he noticed how much you seemed to enjoy them and thought you’d like to have some more. The thought of him noticing such a detail and then taking the time to stop and buy the berries for you made you want to swoon. You told yourself you were being ridiculous and that it was clearly just an overreaction to someone finally being nice to you.

The child is starting to get squirmy and you know that means he’ll be looking for breakfast soon. You listen carefully for Mando and realize that he must either be still asleep or up in the cockpit. Either way, you doubt he’s eaten any breakfast yet as he seems to prefer your cooking over his own. You toss back your covers and get yourself ready for the day. You decide to make eggs this morning, the little one’s favorite food that isn’t sugar-based. You are just finishing cutting up some fruit to go with the eggs, when you hear Mando’s boots behind you.

“MMM, smells good.” He says sounding still a bit sleepy. “I’m starving.”

You turn around with a plate all ready for him and a cup of caf, telling him “Lucky for you, I knew you would be.”

“Thank you, I don’t know how I survived without you,” Mando replies. Your heart sings at his words and you quickly turn back to the food so he can’t see the goofy smile breaking out on your face.

“Mostly on ration bars it seems.” You noticed he had quite the stash of them when you were first on board. Fortunately, you’ve convinced him to try to get a greater variety of food whenever possible.

“Well, my taste buds thank you too.” He carries his breakfast into his bunk where he can eat in privacy. At first, you felt sad for him always having to eat by himself, but you realize he must be so used to it that it probably doesn’t bother him. Nonetheless, it hasn’t stopped you from thinking up ideas for a shared meal sometime in the future, maybe when he knows you better and his trust in you is stronger.

After breakfast, you’re getting the child ready for a day out on the town. Mando is dropping off several bounties today which means you’ll be able to stretch your legs off the ship and visit the market in Batuu. As the ship lands, Mando is already back in the hull quickly reviewing all of the safety protocols for leaving the ship. He does this each time and at first it was rather annoying, it’s not like you’re an idiot, but then you realized he does it because he simply cares that much about the child’s and your wellbeing. While his protectiveness towards the child is completely logical, you still can’t get over how much it extends to you too. You’ve been responsible for yourself for so long; it never occurred to you that another adult would care so much about protecting you.

“Before I forget, I found a holster for you.” Mando is holding out a leather belt for you. “You shouldn’t keep the blaster in a bag; you can’t get to it fast enough.”

“Oh, thank you.” You say politely, although you’re hoping that just once he’ll fail to remind you to take the blaster along. You know he said you have to take it with you every time you leave the ship, but you still feel uncomfortable carrying it around. At least when you could shove it into your bag, you could pretend you didn’t have it, but now, it’ll be right there on your hip, much harder to ignore. Your fingers fumble with buckling the holster; knowing that he’s watching you intently makes you nervous. Mando steps closer to help you, softly brushing your hands away. Maker, he’s so close to you and each time his hands brush against your waist as he secures the holster you need to remind yourself to breathe.

“There you go.” Mando finishes but lets his hand linger for a moment on your hip. You feel his thumb brush back and forth just a bit before he sharply pulls away as if realizing what he was doing. You slip the blaster into the new holster, and he gives you a nod, “Looks good.”

You feel your face heat up as you realize he’s staring at your hips and you distract yourself by making sure the child is ready to go, “Ready to explore?” you ask him, and you hear a happy coo in response from the pram.

You follow Mando down the ramp of the ship, glad to be out in the fresh air and sunshine. Shopping for supplies never seemed like anything interesting in the past, but now that you get to visit different markets on new worlds you’ve never seen before, each little shopping trip feels like a new experience. The colorful stalls filled with all types of wares beckon you to explore and discover some exotic fruit or an old book that you might never see anywhere else.

Oh, speaking of books, “I thought I might try to find a few children’s books for the child, if that’s ok?” you ask Mando.

“Are you trying to teach him to read? Is he ready for that?” Mando sounds curious, but not skeptical in any way.

“No, not yet, but I know he likes hearing stories,” you explain, “and I’m not sure how much more I can keep inventing ones to tell him.”

“Have you just been making those stories up yourself?” He nods in approval, seemingly impressed. “You have a good imagination.”

“Oh, um, thank you.” You’re caught off guard there for a moment, as you hadn’t realized he’d paid much attention to the stories you tell the little one.

“Yeah, I liked the one you told him about the magic frog. It was funny.” He surprises you again. Not only was he listening, he remembers the silly story you made up, and he liked it.

“Thanks,” you say again, stunned by his comment, but it’s his next suggestion that totally floors you.

“You should write them down, make your own book.”

“Make my own book?” The idea would never have occurred to you.

“Why not? Maybe you can even get the kid to draw pictures for it. You can get him some coloring pencils too.” Mando turns and hands you some extra credits. “I need to take care of some business, now, but you two will be safe here. Meet me by the fountain in 30 minutes. Do not be late.” He punctuates that last statement with a point of his index finger and then turns to go.

You watch him head towards a cantina and then just stare down at the credits in your palm. How is he so nice but then also kind of scary? And why does it make you ‘feel’ things? You shake your head at your own silliness and then look down at the little guy and say, “Well, let’s go find you something to color with.”

Perusing the stalls, you find plenty of items to fill up your bags and empty your wallet. You discover a great notebook with plenty of space for writing and pictures. The more you think of the idea of creating your own little book with the child, the more excited you get. You find a few children’s books too, so that you can be sure to keep the little one entertained when he’s tired of drawing. Cognizant of the time, you start to head to the fountain in the center of the market, Mando’s designated meeting spot, when you smell a delectable aroma. The baby smells it too and immediately begins whining and reaching out his little hands. You head to the source of the scent to see several types of kebabs at a nearby stand. You still have some credits and are preparing to order but the little one is too impatient and before you know it, two kebabs are floating to the pram.

“Hey! You have to pay for those!” The man behind the stand yells at you.

“I was; I mean I am,” you quickly tell him, “I’m sorry, he’s just so sneaky and fast sometimes.” You offer him a smile, hoping to smooth things over. What’s more, you pray the man thinks the child just grabbed the food and that he didn’t notice anything magical about it. “How much are they?”

The man looks you over for a moment and then his demeanor changes, “Well, for you, mama, I’m sure we can work out a little deal.” He leers at you.

“That’s ok,” you say uncomfortable at the look in his eye, and you let your smile drop from your face, “I’ll just pay the regular price.”

“Ah, c’mon, there’s nothing like a little discount among friends.” He steps out from behind his stall to stand right in front of you. He reaches out and brushes a hand down your arm, “You’d like to be my friend, wouldn’t you?”

You take a step back and say, “I’d just like to pay you for the food.”

“We can call it even, if you give me a little kiss.” This gross creep moves closer to you again, this time leaning down.

“I have credits.” You tell him, attempting to sound firm while you start to step back again, but he anticipates your move and reaches out to grab your wrist pulling you up against his body. You push on his chest, trying to pull away when you hear the sound of a blaster priming and then a raspy modulated voice says, “Let her go.”

The man drops your arm instantly and you can finally back away from him. You’re very grateful to see Mando with his weapon pointed directly at the man’s head. The man holds his hands up, “We were just having a friendly little chat.”

“Didn’t look friendly to me.” Mando deadpans, but he holsters his blaster now that it’s clear you’re safe. He comes over to you, placing a hand on the small of your back and turns you to walk away with him.

“Hey! She still needs to pay me for the food,” the man protests.

“What did he want for the food?” Mando asks you.

“A kiss,” you reply sardonically.

Mando shrugs, then turns back to the stall, approaches the man quickly and then just head-butts him hard with his helmet. The creep lets out a loud yell of pain and collapses to the ground.

“There you go, a kiss from a Mandalorian.” Mando drawls, before turning and striding back over to you.

Oh damn! That was the hottest thing you’ve ever seen and you feel your body flood with desire. Ok, so maybe that was a blatant show of male posturing, and as an educated, modern woman, you probably shouldn’t be so aroused right now. But some primeval part of your brain has taken over, and the only thought you have is how great a protector Mando is and how much you want him to protect you. You can’t even say anything to him right now because you’re just replaying the moment over in your head. It isn’t until you realize that Mando is saying your name, repeating it, that you finally snap back to reality and remember to thank him.

“You don’t have to thank me,” Mando is saying, “Are you ok?” He asks you slowly to make sure you’ve understood him. It’s possible he’s already asked you that but you were too swept up in your cavewoman thoughts.

“Oh, yes, yes, I’m fine,” you reassure him, “That creep just made me uncomfortable, but he didn’t hurt me. But, thank you again.”

“You’re sure?” Mando asks, a bit doubtful. What are you supposed to tell him? That your dazed look is because you’re turned on by him right now. Super inappropriate, having a major crush on your boss! You take a deep breath and remind yourself yet again that Mando is your employer.

“Really, I’m fine, thank you.” You’re pleased that you managed to get that out in a normal sounding voice. Mando considers you for a moment.

“Why didn’t you pull your blaster on him?” He wants to know.

“I don’t know,” you tell him truthfully, “I guess I’m just not used to reacting that way.”

“Hmm, we’ll need to work on that.” He seems satisfied at that and starts walking back towards the Crest. You force your feet to follow him, telling yourself to pull it together.

“Is that really considered a kiss from a Mandalorian?” You can’t help your stupid mouth from blurting out your question.

He laughs, surprising you because it’s the first time you’ve heard it. “Technically, yes, we call it a Keldabe Kiss.” He chuckles again and then says, “But there is a much softer version too between lovers.”

Ok, you almost become a puddle hearing him say the word ‘lovers’, and thankfully he’s still amused by your question that he doesn’t seem to notice your mouth dropping open and your feet stumbling a little. Instead, all he says is “Let’s get back to the ship, kid’s got the right idea, I could use something to eat.”

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Later, Mando powers up the engines and you figure you’re off to the next planet, but instead he keeps the ship in the atmosphere, taking you away from the town. He lands in a clearing near a forest, and says, “This will be a good spot to practice.”

“Practice?” You’re confused.

“Yeah, I told you we’re going to work on your reaction to threats.” He says this in a matter-of-fact voice, “Plus, I know you said you could shoot, but I want to see how you handle that blaster.”

Sighing internally, you put the holster back on and collect the blaster from the weapons locker before following him down the ramp. The baby toddles down the ramp too, curious to see what’s happening.

“Alright, Miss Top-Marks-in-Shooting, let’s see you hit that tree.” Mando’s tone is rather chipper as he points out a large tree directly across from where you’re both standing. It’s a very easy target; he must think you exaggerated your skills.

You draw the weapon smoothly and shoot, just as you were trained to do, hitting the tree with ease. You fire four shoots in a small cluster pattern, to show that you are capable of accuracy.

Mando nods his head once, “Ok, now hit those five trees in rapid succession.” He points to a line of smaller trees further away to your left. You turn and successfully hit all five in what you consider to be a decent pace.

“Not bad, but see if you can go faster.” He instructs you. You try again, hopefully quicker this time. He nods when you look back at him and then points out a new target. You both keep repeating this pattern and he offers some critiques as you shoot, but generally, he seems satisfied.

“You did well,” Mando tells you after a bit, “You ever hit a moving target?”

“Uh, no.” You look at him cautiously, wondering what he has in mind. Your eyes must show how anxious that makes you, because he says, “We’ll work on that another time.”

You can’t help but let out a small sigh of relief. You figure practice time must be over for now, but then he says, “Let’s work on that reaction time for when someone is in your face. Just let me tell the kid first.”

Mando walks over to the little one who has been sitting on the ramp watching you shoot. “Ok, kiddo, this is just pretend. You understand? No one will get hurt, so no powers, ok?” The baby coos up at him and Mando nods.

“Gotta make sure he doesn’t try to fling one of us into a tree.” He says to your bemused expression. Mando returns to face you and steps close until he’s practically touching you. Your heartrate immediately picks up and your body starts to feel hot.

“I want you to draw your weapon on me, but do not shoot me,” he says definitively.

“What? No, I can’t do that, Mando,” you tell him in protest.

He reaches out lightning fast, grabs your wrist, and hauls you up against him in a similar manner to the jerk in the marketplace. Your positioning might be the same, yet this time you don’t feel creeped out, no, instead you like it, your traitorous body even pushes you a little closer to him.

“Draw your weapon on me. I’m a threat to you.” Mando tells you in a gravelly voice. Stars above! You have to bite your lip hard to keep from moaning. What is wrong with me? You realize he’s not going to let you go until you draw the blaster and so you finally comply with his order.

Mando releases you with small chuckle, as he says, “Ok, let’s try that again only not in slow motion.”

“Wait, wait, I’m not ready.” You’re panting like you just ran a race.

“That’s the whole point,” he replies, “Threats don’t just wait until you’re ready to shoot them.” You could swear he’s smirking at you under that helmet.

“No, I mean, give me a second to imagine I’m being threatened,” you are trying to buy yourself time before he decides to touch you again. “I need to visualize it.”

“Are you saying I’m not threatening enough?” Mando sounds skeptical and maybe a little insulted.

“No, I mean, of course, you are, you’re very threatening and wanted men everywhere should fear you, but I don’t fear you because I know you’ll never hurt me,” you explain to him in attempt to cover up the fact that you’re so damn attracted to him right now.

“You’re right; I would never do anything to hurt you.” He nods in agreement. “But wanted men everywhere should fear me, huh?” He sounds amused by that.

“Yes, yes, you’re very scary.” You tell him, rolling your eyes slightly.

“Ok, so pretend I’m someone you do fear.” He advances toward you. This time you think of Lieutenant Sauckel, an odious man from Imperial Intelligence that you despised. When Mando grabs you again, you imagine Sauckel’s black eyes and yellow teeth and draw your blaster as Mando pulls you to his chest.

“That was better, but still too slow.” He makes you try over and over, and each time you picture another terrible Imperial officer, Commander Brack, Major Frick, Junior Lieutenant Hess, and then finally Ensign Kerrick Hoven, the man who broke your heart and betrayed you. Imagining Kerrick’s smug face appears to do the trick, because it’s the fastest you’ve drawn the blaster yet, and you manage to wrench your arm away from Mando for the first time.

“Good!” Mando praises you enthusiastically, “That was really good.”

“Thanks.” You’re pleased to hear his words of encouragement, but your voice doesn’t show it. Picturing Kerrick again is enough to send you into darker emotions and you feel anger and sadness swirl in your stomach. Your face must give away your unhappy thoughts, because Mando suggests you stop for the day.

You stow your blaster in the holster and then head over to the child who’s been thoroughly entertained watching you both pretend fight. You reach down to pick him up and hold him close to your chest in a hug. There’s just something about his sweet little presence that makes you feel better. You’re smiling again when you pull away and head back into the ship. Mando follows you up the ramp and he’s quiet but you can feel him watching you as you stow the blaster in the weapons locker and remove the holster from your waist.

“Everything alright?” He asks you.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good. I-, Thank you for taking the time to work with me on that. To practice, I mean. I know you’re very busy.” It really does mean a lot to you that he took time out of his schedule for you and you feel your heart swell as you think about his protective nature.

“You’re welcome,” he says, his voice a little softer, “Your safety is important to me. Plus, you need to be able to help keep the child safe too.”

“Yes, of course,” you nod in agreement.

“It’s helpful that you’re a good shot.” He praises you again, and this time you smile at his words.

“Thank you,” you reply sincerely. While you haven’t seen him shoot, you know he’s clearly an expert and it really does mean a lot to hear him praise your skill.

You turn back to the child, “I think it’s playtime now, what do you say, buddy?” He chirps in agreement and you head over to his small stash of toys and place him on the floor so he can start pulling out his favorites. Before you clamber down to join him, you feel Mando’s hand cup your arm just above the elbow. You turn back towards him with an inquisitive look. He just seems to stare at you for a moment, still holding your arm before telling you, “I’ll going to get us on our way to the next planet.”

“Ok, we’ll be alright down here. I’ll bring you up some dinner later.” You give him another smile and a quick nod.

“Good,” is all that he says and then he gives your arm a little squeeze before heading to the cockpit and you can’t help but feel a little fluttering in your stomach at that touch.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The rest of your afternoon passes swiftly as you and the child take his plushies on a heroic quest across the metal wonderland (the hull) to the black cliffs of mystery (a stack of crates) where you must find the golden treasure (a box of cookies). It’s a much more enjoyable game of pretend seeing as you’re not imagining Imps threatening you. It puts you in a cheerful mood and you’re still grinning to yourself when you bring Mando his dinner tray. You feel a pang of regret for him that he’s missed out on the fun afternoon with you and the child and it’s compounded by the thought of him eating his dinner alone too.

“Mando?”

“Yeah?”

You want to ask if there’s any way you could keep him company while he eats, promising to face away from him the entire time, but it feels too pushy to ask him for that. Besides, you’re probably just projecting your own feelings onto him. He’s likely much more comfortable knowing that you and the child are safely shut away from him downstairs and there’s no way he can break his creed while he eats. So, you just tell him, “I hope you enjoy your food.”

When you head back downstairs, you’re mentally kicking yourself for getting too attached. Your job is to take care of the child and make sure his needs are met. It’s nice of you to take care of Mando a little too, but he doesn’t need you to keep him company or worry about him being lonely. I’m being pathetic. You turn your attention back to your little green charge and decide it’s time to give him a bath and get him ready for bed. Still though as much as you try, you can’t stop your thoughts from wondering back to Mando. It’s hard to forget what it felt like pulled up against his chest while you were practicing your self-defense. And you may have replayed the whole head-butt scene in your head a dozen times. Stars! Am I really so desperate that I’m falling for the first man who’s nice to me? You try again to push images of Mando out of your head and focus on the baby. It works until he’s sound asleep in his little hammock and you don’t have a distraction any more. Maybe you can just grab your holopad and read up in the cockpit. That way you can satisfy your need to be close to Mando but also keep from bothering him. You make your way up the ladder, making sure it’s ok to enter the cockpit in case he still has the helmet off, before flopping down in the passenger seat on Mando’s right. You sit there and fiddle with the holopad trying to find a story that will entice you enough to keep your eyes on it, instead of tossing glances at the armored man sitting next to you. Turns out it doesn’t matter though because Mando feels like chatting.

“Kid get to sleep ok?” he asks you.

“Yes, he was pretty sleepy after his bath,” you reply.

“Probably tired after that epic adventure you went on too,” he huffs out a laugh, “I heard you doing all the voices for the toys.”

“Oh, yeah,” you’re a little embarrassed by that as you know you can be pretty goofy when you’re pretending with the child, “He really seems to like it though.”

“Sure he does, I could hear him giggling too.” Mando confirms for you. “I’m glad he’s having this time to be a child. I don’t know much about his past, but I don’t think he’s had a lot of fun in his life.”

“Well, I’ll try to make sure he does something fun every day.” You already love the little one so much, anything you can do to make him happy brings you joy too.

“Who were you picturing when we were practicing your reaction time?” Mando changes the subject abruptly.

You take a moment to process his question, and then tell him, “Just some Imperial officers from my past.” You shrug, “I figured that would be good motivation to draw a blaster.”

He seems to consider you for a moment, and then asks, “What about the last time? Who was that?”

“Oh,” you try to let out a little laugh to ease the discomfort welling up in you, “That was the man who broke my heart.”

“An Imperial officer?” Mando sounds surprised at that.

“He wasn’t an Imperial officer when I first knew him. He was in the graduating class before mine. We dated when we were in school together and we stayed in contact after he graduated. He’s the one who convinced me to do the exams for the ‘research group’.” You make quotation marks with your hands when you say those last two words.

“He mislead you?” Mando asks.

“No, he didn’t know what it really was then either. He had only just heard about it and was trying to get a job there and convinced me that it would be great for the two of us to work together.” You pause there not sure if you really want to keep telling Mando this story.

He’s curious though, as he asks, “What happened when you both found out you were working for Imp Intelligence?”

“We were both shocked and we turned to each other for comfort. It was intense, because I still had old feelings for him, and at the time, I believed he was the only one who understood how I had been deceived because he was right there with me. For a while, it felt tragically romantic, like we were two people clinging to each other in the midst of a terrible situation.”

“So, how did he break your heart?” Mando questions softly.

“I didn’t realize how one-sided our love affair had become. I thought he shared my horror for the Empire and their actions, but little did I know, he was buying into the Empire’s message more each day. As I was trying to disrupt the intelligence, Kerrick was weaseling his way closer to the officers, trying to spend time with them or impress them with his work. They awarded him the rank of Ensign when he turned me in for sabotage.” You can’t help the tear that manages to sneak out and slide down your cheek. You look out to the stars as they swirl by you in hyperspace.

“What was his name? His full name?” Mando asks.

“Kerrick Hoven, why?”

He ignores the question and asks, “Is he still alive?”

“As far as I know, yes.” You’re not sure why that matters to him.

Mando just makes a little hmm noise and then says, “No wonder you drew your blaster so quickly.”

“Well, that’s my sad story of heartbreak. How about you, Mando? You have a heartbreak story of your own?” Now that you’ve bared your sad past to him, you’re curious to hear about his.

“No.” Is all that he says.

“No? Nothing?” You push back a little; he must have something to share.

“Not really. Never get too attached or involved with a woman.” He punctuates this with a shrug.

“What about when you were a bit younger? No love affairs?” You can’t stop yourself from being curious about his romantic past; you just want to know a little something about it.

“I’ve had lovers, but nothing long-term or serious.” he states, “Relationships don’t really go with being a bounty hunter.” He sounds rather blasé about his love life or lack of one, as if he doesn’t spend any time thinking about it at all.

You feel your heart drop at that and all of your fantasies about the two of you being together someday seem exceedingly ridiculous right now. Of course he isn’t a man who gets into relationships, and if you became his lover, it would probably be a short-lived fling that would burn itself out once the novelty of new passion was gone. You feel foolish and tired. The fun of hearing about Mando’s love life has dissipated completely for you. So you change the topic and ask, “Where are we headed to next?”

“Bespin” Mando says. “It’s a mining planet with a city high up in the clouds in the upper atmosphere.”

You listen politely as he tells you some other facts about the planet. It sounds interesting enough, but you’re not really paying that close attention as you’re still somewhat wrapped up in your emotional reaction to his dismissal of relationships. You take a deep breath to center your thoughts and then focus in on his words, telling yourself that this is for the best, that you need to let your stupid crush die and just do your job. If you can’t do that, you’ll just set yourself up for another heartbreak, and what will that get you?

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

Thank you for reading! Link to Chapter 3, Lust Actually. Let me know if you’d like to be tagged in future chapters.

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mc-critical · 3 years

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So I was rewatching some of MYK Season 2 and it had me thinking..do you notice the insane amount of parallels and overall similarities in character arcs between MYK’s Beyazied (Gulbahar’s son) and MY’s Mustafa (Mahi’s son?). Both had a sense of undying loyalty and love/respect to the respective sultans of their time while also meeting their demise at the sultan’s hands, both maintaining positive relationships with their half-siblings despite opposition from their enviornments, both being the only children of mothers who weren’t favorites but were extremely politically ambitious and skilled. Both being princes popular with the janissaries of their time and were seen as a looming threat towards the sultan’s power. I even feel like like Beyazied and Mustafa were similar in their disposition and sense of justice and morality. Tell me am I wrong here because I really can’t unsee it they feel so similar to me😭

Yes, MCK Bayezid and MC Mustafa share the same character archetype (hence why they have the parallels you mentioned), but that's the only thing they're similar in for me. The archetype is only a baseline for both of their characters - their development goes in a very different direction.

The thing that sets them apart the most from the start, is that Mustafa's strenghts and flaws are shaped more by sheer personality, while Bayezid is a character shaped more by curcumstance. That leaves room for more development for Bayezid where he eventually changes his stance on people around him, while despite of every hint of change, intrigue or word of advice, Mustafa's principles and beliefs stay the same.

Both Mustafa and Bayezid have a missing part of their lives that shapes their flaws, but that part is different in both of them. No matter how much support Bayezid seemingly had, he always missed his mother and wanted to see her face he's long forgotten, he wanted to see her all the more with each and every letter of hers. And once that chance presents itself, thanks to Murat, no less (good job, lad, good job, indeed....), he would surely want to see his back from exile mother in a good light, despite of all the wrongs she has done. That's why Gülbahar was Bayezid's blind spot. His love and respect for his mother goes beyond comforting her, defending her, hiding her mistakes and saving her from death, something that Mustafa would be also likely to do - with each event passing, Bayezid also begins to listen to her more and more, becomes convinced of her words that he's born in a middle of a war and sets himself even further against Murat and Kösem. Mustafa, on the other hand, has always been next to Mahidevran in every step of the way, with everyone around him avoiding their separation at all costs, hence he can be much more independent of her perspective. She can only go so far with opposing Mustafa's decisions, he always ends up choosing to do what he sees as right and just, even when his beliefs are challanged. He doesn't let his beliefs to be challanged by anyone. He doesn't want to let his beliefs to be challanged by anyone. He loves his mother deeply and he's also developed a need to protect her at all costs, but that need is based on his awareness of all she has experienced and to prevent her to suffer or worry ever again, not out of missing her whole self, which makes it a need outside of Mustafa's own predicament and decisions.

Mustafa wanting to keep his principles firm originates from his wish to prove himself to his father. Süleiman is Mustafa's blind spot. We see how much he wants to be next to him and have his attention even when he was little and since Mustafa was given a sense of purpose ever since then, too (while Bayezid has been living a life where he didn't yet see the dangers of the world in their fullest extent before Murat's complete downfall and before Gülbahar; he even mentioned to her that he didn't want the throne, even though he was constantly suspected of betraying Murat.), sure he would want to prove himself worthy and follow what SS (and Ibro and Mahi to an extent, too, but especially SS) has taught him when it came to ruling. (like when he chose justice instead of SS's order in E92, which, even though he disobeyed, wouldn't be right or just, since that person was slandered. Musti revealed that he acted like what SS has told him in the past, it being justice is most important.) Even when his father acted against him, Mustafa trusted him blindly, refusing to believe that a father could ever kill his son, even in close probability, no matter what everyone else around him said. (he wrote the letter when Cihangir told him of SS's words in E123, but Musti went to SS anyway, his trust being much stronger than his biggest inkling of suspicion.) He loved him too much, even when he slowly came to realize the growing wedge between them, never succumbing to the temptation to directly rebel against him. (except the kaftan situation, where his trust was directly put into question by a supposed action of his and even then Musti went to merely confront him and die as a warrior if it lead up to this, not kill him, and the trust became stronger than ever afterwards.) Bayezid, on the other hand, always sensed the danger Murat posed in some way, and he realized that no matter how much he proved his loyalty at first and refused drastic action at first, he would always keep suspecting him. Bayezid was allowed to see Murat in his biggest cruelty, at one point, Bayezid didn't see him as fit to rule anymore and was more than ready to dethrone him after an act too cruel by him in Bayezid's eyes. Even when he respected Murat, Bayezid didn't seem to want to prove his worth as much to him or to have gained his principles and beliefs by him and the bond between them wasn't as close, not for Bayezid. The cruelty of the world and Murat's own cruelty grew more and more, hence Bayezid became more open to criticize them and more ruthless, as a result of this. He strived to evade his wrath more than anything. And at one time, there was no turning back now between Murat and Bayezid, which also played a part in his execution.

The way Mustafa views Hürrem and the way Bayezid views Kösem are both very different, too. While I don't feel Mustafa completely hated Hürrem, per say and even in S04, he was rather done with her bullcrap than anything else, he had some resentment for her. He was aware that she played a part in Mahidevran's suffering and sensed that Hürrem giving birth hurts his mother. Still, he knew where the line was: he respected her position as a Sultana and the mother of his brothers, didn't blame her instinctively, didn't fault Cihangir for choosing his own mother in the kaftan sutuation and was willing to listen even in the peak of his resentment. (in E121, where he didn't believe that she wasn't behind the trap.) Bayezid had a more familial bond with Kösem, since she was like a mother to him when his real mother was missing. I feel he appreciated all the care she took for him and even loved her until a point. But once he turned against her, the mutual respect between them was gone completely, with him eventually discarding all she did for him and Kösem disowning him. His resentment for Kösem slowly grew through Gülbahar: the seeds were planted with the letters she was sending to him, which made Bayezid feel he didn't belong, opening a hole in his heart, and then Bayezid being open to listen to Gülbahar more and more with her setting him against both Murat and Kösem. Bayezid tied Kösem to Murat, while in truth, she acted outside of him. Bayezid eventually became convinced that Kösem was a danger. But while circumstances also helped, him standing "on the other side of the war" was bound to break them apart. Bayezid and Kösem already had different goals. The more he sided with Gülbahar's view, the more that cemented their rift. He fully stood against her once she confronted him about him hiding Gülbahar, that made him give up on her to the point he agreed to have her killed in the Eski Saray, since then it would be easier to take down Murat. Despite of Mahidevran's view and experiences, Mustafa's resentment of Hürrem grew because of her own actions: all her attempts to kill him are what made him embittered towards her to the point of him declaring that he won't have mercy on her and Rüstem. He views her actions separately from those of Süleiman- he's aware that she's trying to eliminate him with all her might and that she could maybe involve Süleiman in that, too, but still strives to see a bigger picture. All that is why his actions against her are more defensive than they're offensive and only go so far as to show her her place in some way, not to directly try to kill her, since he regards the feelings of his siblings, too. He sees her and Rüstem as a tandem in S04, but even then he would do actions more against Rüstem than against Hürrem.

I would say that Mustafa has a better relationship with his brothers than Bayezid. He truly loves them a lot and always considers what they have to say, no matter what, but his brothers themselves, even Selim, loved him, too, and never got in conflict with him, expect for the aftermath of him saving Selim from the janissaries, some side scenes with Mehmet when they made amends almost immediately or that one case where they both were little. And he indeed never stops caring about them. I wouldn't say the same for Bayezid, however. While he did share the same affection Mustafa had for his brothers at first, Kasim always had a strained relationship with him and it kept getting more and more strained by each day (even Ibrahim resented him at one point, too). And yes, truly, Bayezid did try to reach out for him many times, Kasim seeing Bayezid and Gülbahar's secret firsthand and the whole Kalika situation sealed things between them to the point of no return. He set himself against Kasim completely, turning out that Gülbahar succeeded to drive the wedge between them. (of course, Mahidevran also had this similar intent, but what I found interesting with her is that, E55 aside, she mostly tried to make Mustafa look at them merely as rivals and in E69 she did tell him that his love for them made her proud regardless; I'm preparing a whole post about comparing Gülbahar and Mahidevran I hope I'll finish some day ahahah) By deciding to take what's rightfully his, Bayezid disregarded his brothers, too. (I understand why he did, but still.) His perspective on them changed just like everything else.

I agree that both Mustafa and Bayezid have a sense of justice, but while Mustafa's justice is based more on morals, principles, nobility, familial bonds and "doing the right thing" in general, Bayezid's justice becomes more "warped". Bayezid sees many injustices done to him or his mother and no matter how much he held back from acting the way his supporters wanted him to, he comes to respond to the injustice with injustice, as well. Or worse yet, he already views the injustice as justice. He perceives leaving his previous, "purer" principles behind as what is right and since he's in a war, he's already ready to do "whatever it takes" to ascend the throne. It's like he restrained himself for too long while reality around him ensued. Mustafa was always aware of this reality, even if deep down inside, even when he was trying to deny it when it came to SS, yet he chose not to leave "his own self" behind. Despite of all the intrigues against him, he responded to the injustice with justice. He held onto this until the end. He held onto this in spite of every opposition or injustice. And yes, both of these approaches were to Mustafa and Bayezid's detriments, respectively, in their distinct circumstances.

Sure, both of Mustafa and Bayezid did "the right thing" prior to their executions (going to SS - choosing not to go to the persian şah as a way out). It was expected for Mustafa, due to his established character and flaws, but for Bayezid it has become the exception - I saw him as more irritated that Gülbahar and Sinan worked behind his back when he told them not to a while ago, but maybe when he didn't succeed to do what he attempted to get on the throne, he decided that he'd rather die, but not run. And his mother's safety was still his first priority, even in death. Even then he didn't exactly realize his mistake, rather that he would be executed for it, since he still acted high and mighty in front of Kösem. Mustafa wasn't really aware of why SS called him in the first place, he wasn't aware of the intrigue with the letter, he didn't know what went wrong, hence he didn't have a true reason to doubt all that, despite of the words of everyone else, so of course he approached the situation like he typically would. It was only Cihangir's words to him where the doubt appeared and he still didn't back down on his decision. Bayezid took a more immediate decision based on curcumstance (with one scene with him ruminating in his chambers), while Mustafa took the decision he usually would. They were both executed by their fathers, but due to different reasons and even before the executions and with their once same foundation as characters, both of them acted differently here.

Though no matter how different they turn out to be in hindsight for me, I still consider MCK Bayezid as a response to MC Mustafa anyway - what MC Mustafa would've been if he let curcumstance influence him and decided to act against his father. (I also did mention in your previous ask about Mustafa that the fandom does tend to view him as MCK Bayezid's exact copy sometimes, but that isn't quite true.) When the crippling realization that your parent could disregard you comes through and you decide not to stand by that and let your survival instinct kick in, after all. Anyhow, I find both of them very interesting to compare and contrast and I love both of their characters, so thanks for giving me the chance to delve into this topic at last. ^^

#magnificent century #muhteşem yüzyıl #muhtesem yuzyil #magnificent century: kösem #magnificent century kösem #magnificent century kosem #sehzade mustafa #sehzade bayezid #ask #stuffandthangs

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mylittlemystery · 3 years

Text

Tongue Tied

Summary: for someone who usually had such a way with words, it was a rare occurrence for Gundham to find himself at a loss for them.

A/N: I have a total of three brain cells remaining, and all of them have been starving for some ‘lee Gundham content.

Sonia glanced up from her book when she felt the mattress dip beside her, and a warm smile graced her lips once she recognized it was none other than her boyfriend. “Gundham!” she chirped as she marked her place and set the book aside on her nightstand. Reading could wait until later - spending time with her lover was much more important. “How can I help you?”

Surprisingly enough, Gundham was rather quiet. He wasn’t usually one to actively seek out physical affection, so this situation was already strange enough as it is. He rubbed his forearm rhythmically, multicolored eyes taking up a striking interest in the wrinkled bed sheets beneath them, and his typically pale skin almost looked like it had been airbrushed with a baby pink hue. “U-um,” he muttered under his breath, already quiet words muffled even further by the large scarf covering his mouth.

Sonia’s previously cheerful expression melted into one of careful concern, and she scooted her body closer to the other’s after a moment’s hesitation. “Gundham? Is something the matter?” she inquired softly before resting a palm atop his bandaged hand. “If there’s something bothering you, you can always tell me…”

“N-no!” Gundham exclaimed with a sudden ferocity as he snatched his hand away. Immediately realizing that he had raised his voice a little too much, he recoiled back into himself like a wounded puppy. “It’s nothing like that,” he elaborated in a much gentler tone than before. “It’s just...I...I just…”

Sonia found herself at a loss for words for a moment as well - she had never seen the ordinarily prideful man in such a state. She knew that it was impolite to pry, but she couldn’t bear the thought of leaving the other like this. “Just what?” she echoed softly, raising a hand to cup one of those flushed cheeks.

Gundham flinched ever so slightly at the unannounced physical contact, but he made no move to stop his lover’s advancements. “W-would you…” It wasn’t that he had wanted to pause - rather, it was as if his very voice had been abruptly ripped away from him. Damn it...he was feared by countless beings, both mortal and supernatural alike! He shouldn’t be so easily overcome by such a harmless request! “...Would you perform that mortal ac-activity with me again?” he finally managed to choke out.

Sonia blinked obliviously, taking a minute to recall the events the two had participated in during the past week. “Do...do you mean tickling…?”

Judging by how red the other’s face grew at the mere mention of the word, it appeared that her shot in the dark had landed. “If...if that’s what you call it, yes,” Gundham murmured, seemingly trying to bury his head in the protective cocoon his scarf provided.

It was safe to say that Sonia’s heart melted at this downright adorable reaction, and a tender grin spread across her mouth. “Aw, of course I can!” she gushed without truly meaning to - seeing her boyfriend like this was just too cute for her to handle. “There’s no need for you to be so embarrassed over something like that.”

“F-foolish girl! An Overlord such as myself does not fall prey to such trivial enchantments!” Gundham insisted in an attempt to recover some of his lost ego, but it wasn’t very convincing when he still couldn’t bring himself to make eye contact with the other.

Clearly, Sonia didn’t buy the act (if her bubbly giggle was anything to go off of, that is). “Alright then! Lie down so we can do this properly!” she instructed merrily as she gave his chest a delicate prod.

Gundham did as he was told, face practically turning into a radiator with how much heat was pouring off it, laying on his back with his arms crossed like a little beetle stuck on its shell. His legs began fidgeting ever so slightly, feet toying with the top sheet beneath them anxiously. It was clear he was nervous, but not in the typical manner one might expect; this was a giddy sort of nervousness, one a child might experience when playing tag with their friends.

Sonia definitely wasn’t going to take this opportunity for granted, and she took some time to relish in the sight presented before her. The Forbidden One was as red as a tomato, his gaze focusing anywhere but on her own, and his normally carefully guarded body was being offered to her like the greatest gift she ever could have imagined. It made a sense of immense humility blossom within her heart; she felt absolutely honored to be trusted by the other to this extent. Finally, figuring she had kept him waiting long enough, she slipped her hands underneath his shirt and began skittering her well kept nails along the seldom touched flesh.

It didn’t take long at all for Gundham to burst into a flurry of tiny titters, his hands instinctively lowering themselves to push at those of his lover. “Nnnnnh! G-guhuhuhahahaaa!” His smile was much softer than his ordinary sneer, closed eyelids wrinkling at the corners with forced mirth, and his laugh sounded much lighter as well.

“You have such a wonderful laugh, Gundham,” Sonia gushed without really realizing it. “I’m so happy you’ll let me see you like this...all giggly and flustered!” A few giggles of her own mingled with those of her lover’s as she watched his plethora of reactions, her fingers continuing their devious dance along the expanse of quivering flesh.

Gundham didn’t think it was possible for his face to grow any redder than it already was, but this line of complimenting proved him sorely mistaken. He turned to bury his head into one of the many pillows beneath him, hoping that this would succeed in hiding his atypical demeanor, but all this did was result in the earlier scratches turning to gentle kneading. He barked out a laugh as he instinctually brought his knees to his chest, or, rather, into his beloved’s lower back.

Sonia clicked her tongue in mock chastise at this, shaking her head solemnly as if the other was nothing more than a particularly naughty pet. “Trying to hide yourself away from my claws?” she hummed as her formerly adoring smile morphed into one of a much more devious nature. She couldn’t help herself - she took a great fondness in teasing her brooding boyfriend to smithereens. “Silly dear...you know they’ll just find a way to keep on tickling~”

Gundham couldn’t hold back his yelp of surprise when he felt one of those dangerously long nails twirl inside his navel, and he fell into a bundle of chest shaking chortles. Words certainly seemed to hold an immense amount of power over him, what with his frantic clambering to hide his face behind his forearms, so it was no wonder that these sultry laden quips were making him feel weak in the knees. Still, he had to keep his composure. He wouldn’t dare surrender to something so light hearted!

“That’s right, love. Giggle all day!” Sonia cooed as she gradually let up on the area, her fingers idly tapping against the still quaking abdomen. “My goodness, you’re all aflush! I suppose not even the Supreme Overlord of Ice is a match for the Tickle Monster…”

...On second thought, he was surely going to die here. Swallowing down the antsy lump in his throat, Gundham affixed the best glare he could manage given the circumstances against those icy blue eyes. “You...you truly are a wicked enchantress…”

An unusually dark titter slipped from Sonia’s lips as she batted her lashes down at her captive innocently. “But of course~! And now that I’ve got you in my clutches, I have to wonder just what I’ll do with you…” She raised her hands so they were now at her sides, fingers wiggling in anticipation, looking the other up and down like he was the tastiest meal she’d ever laid eyes upon. “I could keep playing with this ticklish tummy for a while…”

More deep chuckles escaped from Gundham as the scribbling on his stomach resumed.

“Maybe I could play piano on your ribs…”

Delicate tapping soon followed, earning the princess a trifle of squirming.

“Maybe I could burrow under your arms…”

Said action won an outright snort.

“I could even play This Little Piggy with your toes~!”

Though she made no actual followthrough to these words, Gundham couldn’t help but bury his feet into the mattress protectively.

“Or maybe…”

The Dark Lord’s heart skipped a beat at the sudden silence that overpowered the room, his gaze trained on the surely rising claws of his demise. He felt so utterly meek in this position, so inconsequential and powerless, and it made an unfamiliar feeling brew in the pit of his stomach. Perhaps this was what humans meant when they referred to another as being bashful…?

“I’ll get at that cute little neck of yours!”

Gundham was rudely tugged away from his inner thoughts by the horrid sensation of...well, he didn’t quite know exactly what it was, but it was enough to make him explode with powerful belly laughter. “AHAHAHAHAHAAAA!” His lower half thrashed to and fro violently as if his very existence itself was determined to escape this predicament. “WH-WHAHAT IS THAHAHAHAHAT?!”

“What, you’ve never had a raspberry before?” Sonia asked dumbfoundedly, momentarily dropping her sadistic creature act. Unfortunately (or fortunately depending on how you look at things), she recovered just as quickly. “Well then, I’ll guess we’ll just have to make up for it now~!” Preparing herself with a dramatically loud inhalation of breath, she blew against the other’s typically concealed neck once again.

To say that Gundham was hysterical would’ve been a major understatement; his throaty cackles were reverberating off the walls with the intensity of a clap of thunder. “NOHOHOHOHOHOOO!” he wailed desperately as yet another raspberry was delivered, creeping up to the edge of his sanity, clutching the other’s long strands of hair weakly. “IHI YIEHEHEHEHELD!” he cried out at last. “M-MEHEERCEEEHEHEHEE!”

With this dire call for reprieve, Sonia ceased her consensual torment immediately. Her smile melted back into the warm one others were more accustomed to seeing, and she delicately rubbed her thumb underneath the edge of his jawline. “Oh, love...I’m sorry, I got a bit carried away,” she mumbled sheepishly. “I do hope I didn’t go too far...did I?”

Taking some time to steady his breathing to a level he was satisfied with, Gundham gently shook his head. “I...I found that to be quite...entertaining,” he admitted in a hushed whisper, as though he was uttering a forgotten secret, his eyes shifting around the room awkwardly. “Th-thank you, my bunny…”

Sonia felt her own face grow hot at the sound of the beloved nickname, not hesitating to plant a kiss of appreciation on the tip of the other’s nose. “Of course!”

Gundham sighed as he wrapped his arms around her slender frame. She was a devious little minx, that much was for certain, and he’d managed to get tightly coiled around her little finger...

#writing #fanfiction #danganronpa #gundham tanaka #sonia nevermind #sondam #tickle #tickling #tickles #tickled #ticklish #my stuff #lmao this is the most self indulgent shit ive ever made

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yan-twst · 4 years

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Hello! First off, I wanted to say I really like your yandere works. They aren't overdone, but they aren't overplayed, if that makes sense?? Anyways, would you be interested in writing yandere scenario with Vampire!Vil? I really like the new card!

warnings: general yandere themes, mentions of death and blood

they/them pronouns for darling

It was hard to hold onto hope, nowadays. They’d sworn to themselves they’d never give in- never give the horrible creature that held them hostage the pleasure of knowing he’d broken their spirit, but keeping a fiery attitude and fighting back was getting harder every passing day. Telling themselves they’d escape his suffocating embraces and affections one day, that this whole ordeal would become a simple bad memory, a nightmare for sure, a horribly traumatic experience, but something in the past- that was how they’d been keeping themselves sane, the promise it’d be over, but now more than ever, it felt like there’d never be any escape.

“S-stop…” as a human, there wasn’t much they could do but feebly push back against the vampire’s chest. Not only were vampires just physically stronger than humans, Vil was particularly keen on taking care of his body, the weights he kept in his room and his sheer strength proving so. And to add insult to injury, they were just weak now, as he bit down on the junction of their neck and shoulder once again, drawing blood. Maybe they were getting anemia or something, because it seemed to be impossible their desperate struggles weren’t bothering the vampire on the slightest.

“Be still. Don’t you understand it’ll only hurt more if you move, my love?” sighed Vil, unlatching his mouth from their neck to reprimand them. The sight of him with his lips painted a glossy red with their blood should have been grotesque, but… As much as they hated him, they had to admit Vil was ethereal. Everything about him- or well, his physical appearance- was perfect; from his beautifully sculpted face down to his lean body, there wasn’t an inch of him that didn’t look like a work of art.

It was too bad that such a beautiful body was host to such a rotten soul, really; if it was solely based on looks, perhaps they could’ve brought themselves to enjoy being intimate with him, he was the kind of man they’d have gladly taken as a fling or a fun night. But of course that wasn’t the case- Vil Schoenheit was nothing short of a fucking maniac, a bastard vampire who’d become obsessed with them and plucked them from their daily life, keeping them hostage in his ridiculously large house, drinking their blood and forcing them to live out a miserable life.

Pain had long since ceased to be something they cared about. It hurt every time he pierced his fangs into their skin, scar tissue almost nonexistent with how he hovered over them and treated the injuries after every feeding, it stung when he put his mouth on the wound and sucked, licked, drew more blood from the punctures. Vampire saliva was supposed to be naturally anaesthetic, even aphrodisiac to an extent- and it was true, as much as they hated it. Perhaps that was why their body no longer responded with shock or any logical pain reaction to his bites, perhaps that was why their cheeks got red and their knees buckled despite wanting no enjoyment out of such activity.

“Get off me… Fucking leech…” their feeble attempts at pushing back had ended with them holding onto Vil and resting on his chest as their energy depleted, body too weak to hold itself up. It wasn’t what they wanted, but it was better than to collapse on the floor and be berated by the vampire once again over getting their clothes dirty. Still, just because they couldn’t fight back didn’t mean they’d be completely submissive; calling Vil a leech was clearly a move to annoy him, and judging by how he tensed up at being called so, it worked.

“You have no place to say those words, you…!” they smirked weakly at Vil’s tone, as he suddenly held them by the shoulders. Usually, he’d relish in them having to use his body as support- the fact he’d just rip them away like that meant they’d gotten under his skin. “Ungrateful little human- do you even understand your position? Do you know how many humans have wondered into this place and never come out? You’re a weak, insignificant creature- don’t you know any other vampire would have sucked you dry by now?”

“...” for a second, they were quiet. Was this it? They’d never begged Vil to kill them, although they’d certainly thought of it- they didn’t want to show weakness, but sometimes they’d wondered if it’d be better for them to just die of blood loss instead of having to endure whatever life Vil envisioned for them. For a split second, the anger in Vil’s eyes made it seem like he’d be willing to just do it, to bite down their artery and kill them; but as quick as the outburst came, Vil took a deep breath and seemingly calmed down.

“... Clearly, I haven’t done enough to educate you.” he sighed, and one of his hands moved to caress their lips. “You are my lover, after all. You aren’t just any human, you aren’t just livestock, and yet you insist on acting like one… It’s quite frustrating.”

“You’re keeping me around like a blood bag.” they replied feebly. The punctures in their neck were still bleeding, and they were getting a bit dizzy; usually by now, Vil would have patched them up so they didn’t bleed excessively, but he’d been thrown off his usual routine. They tried to ignore the word ‘lover’; they weren’t a lover, they were a hostage. Even in those fleeting moments of domesticity, when Vil would cook for them despite he not needing human food, or when he’d treat their wounds, they were a hostage. Even when he kissed them, when he caressed them, even if their heart raced, that was their human nature, yearning for touch after being deprived of seeing anyone but Vil for months.

“You’re incorrigible, darling.” sighed Vil. His tone wasn’t mad anymore- he sounded… Pleased, almost. His smirk showed his sharp fangs, and the look in his eyes made it clear he had some sort of plan. “Hm, no, not incorrigible. I know you have the potential to be an amazing partner for me, you just need to be polished. And I have all the time in the world to do so.”

With a swift move, Vil brought his thumb up to his mouth and pricked it, a sizeable bead of blood forming on the surface of the pale skin on his finger. Their eyes widened; never in all of their captivity had they seen the vampire bleed, not even in the very start of their kidnapping when they’d fought back with tooth and nail. The shock of seeing the vampire bleed was enough so they didn’t even realize the very same hand with the bleeding thumb was creeping closer to their neck, where the puncture wounds of the earlier bite were still fresh and bleeding.

“... And soon, you’ll also have eternity.” Vil’s smirk couldn’t possibly grow any larger, although his eyes had grown softer; almost… Adoring, in some sort of way. He had the same expression he’d had when he first met them (when he’d seemed like a storybook prince, those few months when they’d just thought Vil was a charming and ethereal young man, those few months before he showed his true colors and the depth of his obsession). And then he pressed his bleeding thumb into the wound on their neck, and it burnt. “I was honestly going to wait until you’d learnt to behave properly to turn you, but… I can’t just let you get weaker and anemic every passing day. Honestly, do you take care of yourself when I’m not around? It hardly seems so. But at least this should return your vitality…”

“What did you- what is this?!” despite having been dizzy and weak a few seconds ago, the mingling of their blood with his burnt so badly they couldn’t help but struggle. Vil didn’t even let them break away, quickly pulling them into his chest into an one-arm embrace while his bleeding hand still pressed firmly into their wound. A scream ripped from their throat; it burnt, it felt worse than anything they’d ever suffered. And the pain and burning just seemed to travel and expand, as if Vil’s rotten vampire blood was surging and flowing through their body.

“... of course, you’ll be a bit off the first months… It’s going to be a good opportunity for me to watch over you and your transformation. I’ll have to ask Rook to drop off more blood now, since you’re going to be needing quite a bit to get back on two feet…” Vil didn’t seem to think much of their thrashing and struggling, simply thinking of what he’d need to do in the future. “The pain will pass soon, don’t worry. Aren’t you a lucky little human? Don’t you know? I’m liberating you from death, from aging- I’m opening the door to eternal youth and beauty.”

Slowly, the human in Vil’s arms quit their flailing. He kept his thumb on their wound; he’d probably gotten enough blood into their system to turn them, but he wanted to be safe. They’d probably passed out from the pain; he smiled at their peaceful form, brushing the hair out of their eyes. They were so peaceful like this, so beautiful- he couldn’t wait for the day they’d behave this well, even when awake. Of course, they’d be unconscious for a good time now, while their body transformed from a lesser mortal body into one of a vampire, but time was of no issue for either of them now. He’d have all the time in the world to polish his gemstone, to bring forth the potential he knew shone inside of them. He’d seen how they acted back in their little village; their hard-working spirit, their fortitude and their attention to detail. Once they learnt to stop fighting back against him, once they learnt to embrace his affections, they’d make the perfect lover for him; he just needed to make them understand they had no choice but to exist as his for the rest of eternity.

#yandere twst #yandere twisted wonderland #vil schoenheit #yandere tw #blood mention #death mention #Anonymous

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buckyjustbelikethat · 4 years

Text

The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter Two

Title: The Fiction of Fairytales: Chapter Two

Characters: Stucky x Reader

Summary: (a/b/o au that is non-cannon compliant) After being captured and forced to live as Brock Rumlow’s mate for years you are kidnapped by the Avengers. They plan to interrogate you for information on Hydra and Rumlow, but after Steve and Bucky realize they are your true mates, they realize that their kidnapping was more of an unexpected rescue.

Warnings: Mentions of assault, kidnapping, death, and abuse, and strong language.

Word Count: approx. 3000

A/N: Hello lovelies! 💕 There's some Steve and Bucky fluff in this chapter that honestly paid my rent and cured my sickness (A joke, unfortunately both those things still very much exist but it might as well have). I hope you all are doing well! Let me know if you want to be tagged or if you have any suggestions or comments!

Previous Chapter

“Take the fucking handcuffs off her Stark.” Steve growls at him.

Tony knew that this was no time to argue, and immediately moved to unlocking you. He understood the fragility of the situation, so he kept his snide comment about Steve’s “language” to himself, though that doesn’t mean he will let him live down the expletives he used in the past ten minutes, but he has decided to postpone his comments.

They all noticed your slight flinch when Tony grabbed your arms. He tried to be as gentle as possible, but it didn't matter when none of them in the room had truly earned your trust yet.

Before Tony walked away, he spoke a simple but honest. “I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have assumed you were one of them.”

He walked away before you could think of a reply. You weren’t used to being expected to say so much, and you were out of practice of how to respond to kindness and sincerity.

Bucky snapped you out of your daze at Stark’s words, “Are you okay standing?”

“Yeah..” the words I’m used to this ghosted from your lips, catching yourself before you voiced them after calculating the likelihood that this will make your alphas even more angry. You knew their anger wasn’t directed at you, but your mind couldn’t trust beyond a resounding “yet”. You still feared them, their protectiveness seemed currently to be their predominant emotion, but what would happen when the chaos settled. After the cloud of enticing scents and first meetings faded, and all they could see is you.

You unfolded yourself from the chair. Careful to hide your pain as you got up.

Steve and Bucky gave each other a quick glance that you entirely missed. But to them they had spoken a whole conversation of “I don’t know how to do this,” “I wish I could help more,” “I love you and we’ll make it through together.”

“You can follow me sweetheart.” Steve spoke to you with a smile and began leading you out the door, as Bucky trailed slightly behind you. It put you on slight edge, but them surrounding you was a desperate attempt to feel like they could protect you in some way even though you weren’t comfortable with them touching you yet.

This time, just based on the protective scents both alphas were putting out, the guards wouldn’t dare give you a dirty look.

They took you to a floor that appeared to be reserved for the Avengers based on the security scan before the elevator opened. You were led to the Avengers’ personal medical wing, and they brought you over to a glass room with a hospital bed in the center, “I’m gonna go get the doctor, Bucky can stay with you.” Steve said as he walked out of the room. His command even within that moment made his superhero title of “captain” that you heard Friday refer to him as earlier make sense.

“You can lay down if you want, doll.” Bucky broke the silence.

When you got up onto the bed, you did your best to lay in a position that didn’t bother your likely broken ribs.

“I’m sorry, but with all of this, we haven’t had a chance to even ask for your name. We’ve heard rumors, but we weren’t sure.”

“My name is y/n y/l/n.”

“Y/n, beautiful, I love it.” Bucky smiled to himself.

When he looked back up at you, he noticed that your cheeks turned slightly red as you blushed at his compliment. It was so cute, and he was sure he’d enjoy trying everything to make you blush like that again.

“And you’re Bucky? And he’s Steve?” Your voice was a little timid, unsure if you picked up on their words correctly.

“Yeah, doll. My full name is technically James Buchanan Barnes, but my friends call me Bucky.”

“I like your name, is it okay… am I allowed…” you didn’t want to overstep any boundaries, so you were having a hard time asking what you wanted to know. At this point everything seemed like a minefield when the boundaries haven’t been clearly marked, if you were using the previous maps of your experience, you would have already treaded into dangerous territory too many times.

“You don’t have to be nervous, sweetheart, you can ask us anything. I promise we won’t get mad.” His words calmed you enough to ask your question.

“Okay…” you paused, building up your courage “can I be considered a friend?” You mumbled, surprised at your confidence in being able to voice the words. You knew even though you were mates, there’s a chance he may not even want you as a friend.

Bucky let out a small chuckle. “Of course, doll. I’d love for you to be more, but we will do this at your pace.”

You smiled back at him, slightly looking up for the first time, and you did not regret the action. The brief glance you stole you wanted to frame. He was looking at you with such a beautiful smile. The look in his eyes seemed to be one of adoration, and you prayed in that moment that it wouldn’t fade.

Bucky saw your glance, and those few seconds felt celestial. He had a hard time containing his excitement at the progress you made with him within such a short period of time. He didn’t want to get ahead of himself, but he knew he was screwed based on how your slight glance affected him, he couldn’t imagine what making you laugh would feel like, or even what kissing you would do to him.

Your moment was interrupted with the doctor walking in and Steve close behind.

The doctor quickly introduced herself, and after her introduction she added, “I think considering the circumstances, it’s best if we do this without your alpha’s in the room. Are you okay with that?”

Both of your alpha’s immediately tensed up, and though you didn't know whether you could trust this doctor, but thankfully she was a beta. You felt like if it were only her in the room you would be less afraid of being honest.

“A-re… are you both okay with that?” You asked your alpha’s.

“Don’t worry about us sweetie. This is your decision. We will be just outside of the room, you can call to us if you need us, or send the doctor. Does that sound okay to you?” Steve asks you in a calming voice.

You just nodded your head in return, confused but grateful at the consideration they were showing you.

“Alright, let us know if you need us.” He says before giving a warning look to the doctor, it wasn't that he didn’t trust or like her, but he had warned the doctor before of how fragile his omega was right now and that she was to do whatever she could to make you comfortable. The doctor didn’t hold Steve’s aggressiveness against him, normally he was nothing but courteous, so she knew it was just his protective instincts going crazy.

Bucky and Steve walked out of the room, as the doctor started putting up the curtains around the glass room. They went into the lobby-like area that was thankfully right outside of the room, they didn’t want to be too far away. For a moment they stood in silence, still processing the events that had taken place in the past hour, finding relief in each other's presence and a moment to exhale.

“Her name’s y/n.” Bucky finally said.

“That’s beautiful, it fits her so well.” Steve replied with a smile on his face, but his mood quickly returned to seriousness, “Buck, I feel like my whole body is on fire. I feel like I would give her my life already... but the pain behind her eyes, and the fact that she doesn’t trust us, and that I’ve already failed her, my body doesn’t know what to do with itself.”

“I feel the same way Steve, but you didn’t fail her, you were skeptical at first, but that is completely understandable under the circumstances.” Bucky said compassionately but resolute. When the look of guilt still mangled Steve’s features, he pulled him in for a hug. Gently rubbing his hands along his spine, hoping to ease the tension plaguing him.

“But you weren’t, you gave her a chance even when I already assumed.” Steve persisted, his voice was strained and barely a whisper. Bucky couldn’t see the tears collecting in his eyes, but he could feel the extent of his emotions through their bond.

Bucky pulled back slightly and gently grabbed Steve’s face. Trying to force Steve’s eyes to meet his own and hoping he will find the truth in them. “Steve, you are the kindest person I know, I know you have so much love to give her that eventually, when she learns to trust us, she’ll be sick of you.” Bucky smirked but his face contorted to an earnest expression for his next words, “I know you, and what you said wasn’t derived from hate but from your love and protectiveness over me. You were afraid, am I right?” He asked, his eyes searching his face.

Steve just nodded his head that still rested in his mate’s hands, his eyes downcast.

Bucky leaned in and kissed Steve’s forehead, pausing there for a moment before resting his forehead against his own. His eyes were closed as he rubbed circles along Steve’s cheek. “I love you sweetheart, and she will too, you and I both have to earn her trust, but I have no doubts that she will love you, what’s not to love?”

Steve finally smiled slightly at Bucky’s words, before pulling away to meet his gaze. “How did I get so lucky, not only with one perfect mate, but two. And don’t think for a second she won’t love you just as much.” It was now Steve’s turn to quell the doubts he knew his mate likely was struggling with.

This time it was Bucky who gently nodded in return, before Steve leaned in and kissed him.

When they pulled away, they continued to hug each other for a moment. Relying on each other for the support they needed, so when the time came, they could offer everything they could to their omega. “I’m worried for her, Bucky.” Steve said.

“Me too...m’ so worried.”

They stood there in each other's arms for a few moments before breaking apart, but even when they pulled away, they remained with their hands clasped, both standing in anticipation for the doctor’s arrival.

The doctor finally entered the room, and the concern on her face made them even more anxious for his report.

“I’ll start by saying she will be fine; she’s been strong enough to survive over the past few years, so I do not doubt her…. But she has a broken rib and fractures in her leg right now. Her body is covered in bruises and scars at various stages in the healing process. In addition, she seems to have experienced a lot of sexual and emotional abuse. I apologize, but I don’t think it is professional to discuss the specifics of what she said, I think it is best if those details came from her when she is ready to talk about it with you.”

“Okay, we understand.” Steve replied. They both suspected that she went through abuse, but the words being spoken by the doctor settled in their bloodstream like cement. They didn’t know you well, but your pain was devastating. They wished they could have saved you sooner. They wished they had known. Every moment of peacefulness, of happiness they had felt, now seemed cruel to have enjoyed while the person that completes them was suffering. The strength of their sadness was mirrored by their anger, though they would rather keep their anger trapped behind the glass until they are able to avenge their omega against anyone that caused you pain.

“I will keep an eye on her healing process for her injuries that are concerning, but I recommend setting her up with the therapist here. I just gave her some pain medication and food and water, and I will leave you with daily care and medication instructions. If her fear gets in the way of you properly caring for her, let me know and we can find a nurse that she is comfortable with.” The doctor continued.

Steve and Bucky both didn’t like the idea of that, but at the end of the day her health and happiness is the thing that matters the most. They just desperately wished for her trust.

“She needs a lot of rest to heal. I recommend maybe letting her spend the night here so I can monitor her for the night, you both are welcome to stay in the room with her.”

“Whatever you think is best. Thank you, doctor.” Steve said.

Both alphas were anxious to go see their omega again, so when the doctor was finished explaining what she needed to they both rushed into the room. Their omega was laying under blankets in the hospital bed, and you almost looked peaceful. Though they wished you were entirely devoid of stress, they will take the victory of even part of it subsiding.

They both stood by the door, unsure if you wanted them to enter.

“Is it okay if we sit by you?” Bucky asked.

You looked to the chairs in the room. Your gaze almost appeared to be calculating the distance and measuring the possible danger. You hoped the kindness they have shown so far won’t fade, but you acknowledged that you are likely in less danger than you were a mere 12 hours ago when you were still with Brock.

So, you conceded with a quiet “Sure.”

They could sense the unease in your voice but the alphas within them wanted to be close to their mate to make sure you are okay. Normally when alphas and omegas find their true mate, they are immediately hard to separate from each other. They hoped that their presence at a distance might at least offer you some comfort without pushing you too far. They hoped there was a part of you that craved them the way they craved you.

While you were fearful of your mates, you couldn’t help but want to be drawn to them. You could not turn off the omega inside of you that seemed to be calmed by their scents, but you were curious how much the doctor told them. She had assured you that she would not share the details of your answers to her questions. But did she say enough to tarnish their image of you, or are the unsaid details idle weapons, waiting to be used, patiently waiting to destroy.

They sat next to each other in the chairs beside you. After settling, Steve was the first to speak, “I just want to say again that I’m so sorry for assuming you were hydra. I should not have treated you that way, and I should have trusted you as my mate. I hope that you can eventually forgive me, but you are completely justified if you don’t want to.” You could hear that his voice was slightly choked up from emotion.

“I forgive you, Steve. But... I do have a question if you don’t mind. You said that you would protect me before. Does.. does that mean you want me as your omega? It’s okay if you don’t...” You were gazing down at your hands as you wrung them in your lap, suddenly nervous to his reply.

“More than anything, but only if that’s something you want.” Steve’s voice rushed, trying to stop you living in doubt for even another moment.

Your eyes started tearing up at his reply. In this moment you wished you didn’t have the fear you had, that this would have played out like the fairytales you imagined, but it isn’t those fairytales. You are trapped in a story with men who appear to be prince charmings, but you were unable to be the princess. How could the princess deserve her princes when she sees the face of her villain in everyone she meets? Your villain has turned you into the antagonist of your own fairytale, to get in your own way even when he isn’t there to do it himself. “I think I want that… I do but… I’m so sorry.. I’m just scared.”

Both men had to once again refrain from reaching out to you to try and console you, knowing their hands would not register as the comfort they desperately wished they could ingrain within them.

“Hey it’s okay, sweetheart. You are allowed to be afraid. It’s okay.” Steve tried to soothe you through his words.

“You just left years of trauma, it's okay to not be ready yet. It makes us beyond happy that you even want to try, doll.” Bucky said.

Their words helped calm your tears down.

“You should get some rest. We’ll have Tony set up a room for you beside ours for tomorrow, but if anything makes you uncomfortable just let us know. If you ever need distance from us just let us know and we will respect that. Are you okay with having your room beside us?” Steve asked.

You nodded your head in return. Honestly, you were slightly disappointed you wouldn’t be in their room, but you knew you weren't ready for that.

“Great.” Steve replied and you could hear his smile through his words. “Now get some sleep, we’ll be here if you need anything.”

You closed your eyes, and within minutes you were lulled to sleep by their scents and the sound of their breathing.

Next Chapter

Tags (open): @dark-night-sky-99 @fallenoutofrose @an-adventureland @xxlikeheavenxx @thisartemisnevermisses @coonflix @fab-notfat @snakesonastarship @thanossucks @yomama-umbridge @grandluminaryearthquake @laughsandlivia @bloo-moon-freak @this-is-a-chilis-drive-thru @sergeantrosabellaswan @rororo06 @rvgrsbrns @catthecreator @veganfangirl5 @rachelsfandommess @thinkaboutmara @cookiecat22 @6chewwie9

#stucky x reader #alpha stucky x reader #alpha bucky barnes #alpha steve rogers #bucky barnes x reader #steve rogers x reader #stucky

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tales-of-magic-and-chaos · 3 years

Note

Another frostironstrange prompt: Thor teasing Loki about how in love he is.

Sorry for taking so much time to filll this prompt!

It ended up much more serious and angsty (although it’s still light) than it was meant to be but I hope you’ll still like this small dialogue. 😊

***

“So. A heartbeat, uh ?” Thor was standing next to his brother, observing with him the guests slowly arriving and taking their place. “Do you think you will ever be ready to see them being snatched from you?”

Loki tensed before discreetly casting a glance at Thor. “Brother, I-...” He paused for a moment, searching for the right words. He inhaled profoundly before finally speaking. “In hindsight, I now see that mocking you so cruelly for falling in love with a mortal woman was… I only meant to hurt you. It was foolish of me but at this time I only wanted to hurt you as much as I was hurt. To make you feel miserable and to stop you from accessing happiness and love where it always had been forbidden to me.”

Thor kept on observing quietly the scene before them. “I know. I know it was mainly meant to hit where it hurts. Nevertheless, you had a point. Their lives are so short. It’s not possible to prepare ourselves for the death of our loved ones, even less when mortal lives are so short in comparison with ours.” He turned his head toward Loki, looking at him with a surprising softness in his eyes, even after all these years of resentment and sorrows between them. “They are so dear to your heart, Brother. They transformed you, making you radiate in joy and happiness in ways I never saw instead of the bitterness and sadness that were yours before. Your affection for them is so evident and deep I sometimes fear for you, my Brother. I fear for the day their souls will leave this plane. I fear for the pain you will feel, Loki.”

Loki stayed silent for a long moment. He had thought about all of this. Of course, he had. It was something that terrified him ever since he understood that two mortals found their way into his heart of ice.

“I wish I could affirm with utter confidence that I’ll overcome the sadness and grief of their death. I wish I could pretend that fear never gets its cruel claws on me. But even I can see how these would be foolish and useless lies. The truth is, I don’t know. I don’t know how I’ll react when…” He inhaled deeply. “When they won’t be here anymore. What I do know, however, is that it’s worth it. They worth it. I’m ready to accept the pain, the grief, the loneliness because I can’t give up on them. They give sense to my life. Being loved by them and loving them give sense to my life. I rather experience the endless grief and sorrow coming with their death than returning to the eternal loneliness that was mine all these years before.”

Loki spoke with confidence and calm. Dealing with the overwhelming threat of his loved ones’ future death wasn’t always easy but with therapy and a lot of discussions with them, he started to get better at dealing with his fears.

When he finally glanced at his brother, Loki finally noticed his large smile and blushed.

“Don’t you dare to make fun of me!”

Thor’s smile widened. “I would never!” Noticing Loki’s sceptical face, he corrected. “Not for such an important matter.” His face serious again, he swept the room absent-mindedly. “It’s a shame I had to wait so long to see you openly express such affection and joy. You were always so cold and reserved in the past, hiding yourself behind books, masks and only expressing your pain with your tricks. Today, I know it was our fault, me, Father and by extent all of Asgard, and I’m aware of how much we failed you. I can only regret not realizing the sorrows that were yours earlier.” Thor made a pause for a few seconds. “I… I sometimes have been scared that we did you too much wrong and that all chances of healing were lost. Maybe love and compassion were definitely lost to you. But seeing you, every day, smiling, laughing while spreading the chaos you love so much, having found a place where you can truly feel loved and at peace…. It reassures me so much. I sometimes feared I would never be able to see it ever again. So, even if I must admit I was quite sceptical at the beginning, I’m thankful for the happiness you found with these two men.”

Loki smiled, one of these rare soft smiles he generally kept only for his lovers to see. Thor was sometimes still slow on some subjects but he has made progress. But truly, he was touched by his brother's words. Having another person of the same culture understanding what being almost immortal and surviving their loved ones meant was of great support.

“Quite sceptical?” He snorted, amused. “Yes, I guess you could say that almost throwing my partners on the moon when you learnt about our relationship was being “quite sceptical””.

Thor didn’t even bother to look embarrassed or ashamed.

“I consider my reaction has been perfectly reasonable and appropriate. I had to make sure they wouldn’t do wrong to you.”

Loki raised an eyebrow.

“Yes. Because obviously they’re the ones who failed me during centuries and I’m a fragile and delicate creature needing to be protected.”

“Not what I meant, you know it.” Thor grumbled. “Just admit that they tend to drive people close to them mad and can be… quite difficult to live with sometimes.”

“No they don’t.”, protested Loki to defend his lovers. “They don’t drive ME mad and they’re perfect to live with.”

“I apologize, I didn’t mean to offend you or your lovers.” Thor smiled.

“Why are you smiling now?” Grumbled Loki.

“Nothing. I just find it quite endearing to see how quick you are to defend your lovers’ honor. I never saw you being this protective with someone before.”

“So what?” Loki was now defensive. “Defending and being protective of what is mine is not a problem.”

“It sures isn’t.”, said Thor to appease his brother. “I’m just glad you found something to protect and fight for. Take good care of them, such people are rare and precious.”

“What do you imagine? Of course, I’ll protect them. I struggled so much to have them, I have no intention to let go of them. They’re everything to me.”

And Thor knew it was true. Loki’s love may be rare and hard to obtain but once you had it you never lost it. Thor always observed throughout the years how unbreakable Loki’s loyalty and utter devotion to his loved ones was, he always had cherished and taken extreme care of his lovers. And that was even more true with the two wonderful men currently sharing his life.

#frostironstrange #ironstrangefrost #strangeironfrost #hyuksgirlelf #asks

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flightfoot · 4 years

Text

Abuse and how it plays into Identity in Tower of Nero

While abuse has played a role in previous Trials of Apollo books, and in the Greco-Roman main series as a whole, Tower of Nero digs into it most deeply.

Identity and recovery from abuse are deeply linked here, with much of the abuse recovery coming from forging an identity separate from the abuser.

Previously it mostly came up in The Hidden Oracle and The Burning Maze, with Meg’s relationship with Nero prompting Apollo to examine his own relationship with Zeus.

Apollo knew in the back of his head that Zeus was abusing him, that his rage against the Cyclopes for creating the lightning bolt Zeus used to murder Asclepius, for instance, was him redirecting his anger onto a safer target because raging against Zeus directly was so unsafe, but he tried not to let himself think about it too much, and he tried to fool himself into thinking that Zeus DID care about him, that he loved him, at least enough that he’d help him if he saw him in trouble.

Seeing Meg with Nero, how he manipulated her, how he subtly blamed her for anything bad that happened around her, for anything HE did, while trying to seem gentle and kind; seeing the abuse he went through reflected in this young girl led him to cope with his own abuse better.

His experiences with abuse, with Zeus treating him as a scapegoat and ‘forcing’ him to punish Apollo if he stepped out of line, with his own feelings about the abuse and his own coping mechanisms and behavior as a result, are a useful reference for understanding and helping Meg through her experiences with Nero.

And helping her cope, separate, and try to grow after being manipulated by Nero for so long? Helps him come to terms with his own experiences.

He’s pretty explicit about the comparisons too. Like when Meg talks about how Lu used to help her pretend to kill people for Nero, helped her how she could, but Apollo’s mostly just horrified that Lu stuck around and didn’t take Meg and run... and yet part of him understood.

And are you any better? taunted a small voice in my brain. How many times have you stood up to Zeus?

Okay, small voice. Fair point. Tyrants are not easy to oppose or walk away from, especially when you depend on them for everything. (TON 57)

Lu may not have been quite as dependent on Nero as say, Meg - at least psychologically. Lu’s not a child by any means.

But Lu’s only immortal because Nero is, and he can, presumably, revoke that. Nero provides her employment, a home, probably her entire social circle, AND he has the power and the will to go after her and anyone she cares about if she strays, if she tries to defy him.

In those ways, her situation mirrors Apollo’s even better than Meg’s does - and while he’s angry at her for not defying Nero, he also understands.

I suspect part of his anger and suspicion at her is also anger and suspicion of himself, for falling into a similar trap.

Still, though Lu has her own baggage with Nero, Meg’s is focused on a lot more, with how she’s grown and changed, and her desire to hang onto who she’s become while separated from Nero, to hang onto her own identity and personality and not what Nero attempted to shape her into.

It’s to the point that she can barely comprehend who she was under him, how she used to think, what she did.

“I betrayed you once,” she said. “Right here in these woods.”

She didn’t sound sad or ashamed about it, the way she once might have. She spoke with a sort of dreamy disbelief, as if trying to recall the person she’d been six months ago. That was a problem I could relate to. (TON 114)

Meg hasn’t really changed at her core as much as Apollo has - as much as she’s gone through, she at least wasn’t much of a jerk in the first place. Well, relatively speaking, when compared to Apollo. She’s abrasive, but not much beyond that.

But she HAS changed, in large part BECAUSE she’s more able and willing to stand up for herself in ways that she couldn’t do remotely safely while with Nero. She’s broken free of his psychological hold.

During The Hidden Oracle she was ALREADY rebelling against him, she refused to burn the woods, but... well, she DID go with him, DID believe she could change him for awhile.

But she broke free after realizing he wouldn’t, escaped and returned to Apollo, freeing herself from Nero’s grasp once more.

For her, I think the difference between who she was six months ago and who she is now has less to do with her actual personality and worldview - those haven’t actually changed all that much throughout the books - but just in being free, somewhat safe (well, safer emotionally at least), and genuinely cared for. To not be under Nero’s influence to the same extent.

With Apollo... well, it’s a bit different with him. Zeus wasn’t as controlling as Nero, Apollo COULD have kept his space from him before; his sister has been doing that for millennia. But he has still changed a lot, moreso than Meg did, to the point that he’s almost unrecognizeable from who he was when he first fell to earth in THO.

Newly experiencing kindness, regular affection, and just having other people care about him though? He shares that with Meg.

Not that people have never been nice to him before, that’s not the case. But to have people be nice to him who he wouldn’t think would need to be, when he’s vulnerable... there’s a reason he’s been extremely touched when that’s happened even back from THO, and in this book he breaks down pretty much every time.

Meg struggles with needing to retain her independence, the new sense of herself she’s acquired during her journey with Apollo.

“I have to go back,” Meg insisted. “I have to see if I’m strong enough.”

Peaches cuddled up next to her as if he had no such concerns.

Meg patted his leafy wings. “Maybe I’ve gotten stronger. But when I go back to the palace, will it be enough? Can I remember to be who I am now and not… who I was then?”

I didn’t think she expected an answer. But it occurred to me that perhaps I should be asking myself that same question.

Since Jason Grace’s death, I’d spent sleepless nights wondering if I could keep my promise to him. Assuming I made it back to Mount Olympus, could I remember what it was like to be human, or would I slip back into being the self-centered god I used to be?

Change is a fragile thing. It requires time and distance. Survivors of abuse, like Meg, have to get away from their abusers. Going back to that toxic environment was the worst thing she could do. And former arrogant gods like me couldn’t hang around other arrogant gods and expect to stay unsullied.

But I supposed Meg was right. Going back was the only way to see how strong we’d gotten, even if it meant risking everything. (TON 114-115)

Meg needs to keep her identity she’s created for herself away from Nero. But her question about remembering to be who she is now versus who she was back then fits Apollo’s conundrum better, something that is clearly not lost on Apollo.

I knew my anxiety about my own weakness was getting mixed up with my anxiety about Meg. Even if I somehow made my way back to Mount Olympus, I didn’t trust myself to hold onto the important things I’d learned as a mortal. That made me doubt Meg’s ability to stay strong in her old toxic home.

The similarities between Nero’s household and my family on Mount Olympus made me increasingly uneasy. The idea that we gods were just as manipulative, just as abusive as the worst Roman emperor… Surely that couldn’t be true.

Oh, wait. Yes, it could. Ugh. I hated clarity. (TON 225-226)

Meg’s captured, being fully under Nero’s influence once more, with him trying to twist everything to be Apollo’s or Meg’s faults, trying to twist it so that every bit of distress that he puts Meg through is somehow the fault of her or her allies.

She picked up the chair and threw it across the room - but not at Nero. It whanged off the window, leaving a smudge but no cracks. I caught the flicker of a smile on Nero’s face - a smile of satisfaction - before his expression fixed back into a mask of sympathy. “Yes, dear. This anger comes from guilt. You led Apollo here. You understood what that meant, what would happen. But you did it anyway. That must be so painful... knowing you brought him to his end (TON 235)

This kind of manipulation is Nero’s trademark, he uses it for most of the book. Telling Meg what she’s feeling, telling her that she’s feeling this way because of something wrong SHE did, not because of the horrible things NERO did. Trying to rewrite her reality to fall in line with what HE wants her to believe, to think.

Nero makes her change clothes, has her scrub up, even has her get a pedicure.

Normally this would sound like a good thing. But it’s just one of the ways he tries to rewrite who she is, to break her sense of identity and replace it with one more to his liking. By taking away things that showed her own personal style, he took away reminders of who she is, as well as showing his ability to exert control over her, make her believe she has no choices.

My heart broke. Meg looked elegant, older, and quite beautiful. She also looked utterly, completely no longer herself. Nero had tried to strip away everything she had been, every choice she’d made, and replace her with someone else - a proper young lady of the Imperial Household. (TON 285-286)

Nero continues to try to twist the circumstances, to brainwash Meg into believing that he’s her savior and Apollo and the others may harm her. But Apollo keeps protesting, leading to this scene:

I tried to contain my horror. “Meg,” I said. “There’s only one person you need to listen to here: yourself. Trust yourself.”

I meant it, despite all my doubts and fears, despite all my complaints over the months about Meg being my master. She had chosen me, but I had also chosen her. I did trust her - not in spite of her past with Nero, but because of it. I had seen her struggle. I’d admired her hard-won progress. I had to believe in her for my own sake. She was - gods help me - my role model. (TON 293)

Ultimately, MEG’S the one who decides. Who fights back. Because she was able to listen to herself, to not be twisted by Nero’s lies and deceptions.

“I didn’t kill my father,” she said, her voice small and hard. “I didn’t cut off Lu’s hands or enslave those dryads or twist us all up inside.” She swept a hand towards the other demigods of the household. “You did that, Nero. I hate you.” (TON 295)

This was the tipping point. When she announced, to herself and everyone else, the truth. The reality. Rejecting Nero’s attempts to rewrite it.

Nero hissed. “Ungrateful child. The Beast-”

“The Beast is dead.” Meg tapped the side of her head. “I killed it.” (TON 311)

I notice here she tapped the side of her head. Of course, she didn’t literally kill The Beast; Nero’s still alive after all.

But The Beast was a psychological trick Nero used on Meg, to make her separate him into two people; the ‘nice’ stepfather, and The Beast that takes over and punishes if she misbehaves.

She ‘killed’ it, because she killed the concept.

There was never a Beast.

There was only ever Nero.

And now that she’s gotten out from under his thumb? She reasserts her own identity.

Meg had thrown away her sandals, braving bare feet despite the arrows, rubble, bones, and discarded blades that littered the floor. Someone had given her an orange Camp Half-Blood shirt, which she’d put on over her dress, making her allegiance clear. She still looked older and more sophisticated, but she also looked like my Meg. (TON 323)

I like the emphasis on how she looks older, but also like herself. She looks like what Nero made her into still, in a way - she’s still wearing that dress after all - but she’s made it her own, integrated herself into it.

It nicely parallels Apollo’s own situation, with needing to integrate who he’s become as Lester, who he’s grown to be, with his godly identity. Because things WILL be different once he’s a god again; he’ll have power he doesn’t have now, will have exposure to other gods that he doesn’t currently have. So he needs to figure out how to handle that, how to be a god, how to be Apollo while not losing what he’s gained as Lester.

Even if I survived, I would not be the same. The best I could hope for was to emerge from Delphi with my godhood restored, which was what I had wanted and dreamed about for the past half a year. So why did I feel so reluctant about leaving behind the broken, battered form of Lester Papadopolous? (TON 327)

Like Meg was, Apollo’s struggling to get ahold of his own identity before he has to face his abuser again, has to re-enter that old toxic environment. He fears that if the trappings of “Lester” are destroyed, then like with Nero changing Meg’s clothes, that he’ll lose part of his connection to who he’s become.

As Apollo fights Python, his mortal body becomes less and less mortal, bringing him into an in-between, in-flux state that mirrors his internal identity crisis.

“YOU CAN’T HIDE!” Python bellowed. “YOU ARE NO GOD!”

This pronouncement hit me like a bucket of ice water. It didn’t carry the weight of prophecy, but it was true nonetheless. At the moment, I wasn’t sure what I was. I certainly wasn’t my old godly self. I wasn’t exactly Lester Papadopolous either. My flesh steamed. Pulses of light flickered under my skin, like the sun trying to break through storm clouds. When had that started?

I was between states, morphing as rapidly as Python himself. I was no god. I would never be the same old Apollo again. But in this moment, I had the chance to decide what I would become, even if that new existence only lasted a few seconds.

The realization burned away my delirium.

“I won’t hide,” I muttered. “I won’t cower. That’s not who I will be.” (TON 339-340)

Like with Meg before, he’s deciding, affirming for himself what kind of person he is now, who he wants to be, different from who he was before.

Even during the fight with Python, some small part of him hopes Zeus will intervene, will see he’s done enough and help him, save him. But here, that instinct is quashed for the final time.

I had done my best. Surely, Zeus would see that and be proud. Maybe he would send down a lightning bolt, blast Python into tiny pieces, and save me!

As soon as I thought this, I realized how foolish it was. Zeus didn’t work that way. He would not save me anymore than Nero had saved Meg. I had to let go of that fantasy. I had to save myself. (TON 341)

Much like with how Meg hoped back near the beginning of the series that Nero really would change, really was a good person deep down, Apollo kept up the hope in early entries that Zeus DID care about him and would come to save him at any moment. And even in later books, heck, even in THIS book, with Meg still calling Nero her stepfather a few times and the part of Apollo hoping that Zeus will intervene now, it’s hard to break the desire, the belief that that person who SHOULD care about you, surely will now.

But both of them break past that. Meg calls Nero out, rejects his attempts to rewrite reality, and Apollo kills the idea that Zeus might intervene on his behalf.

By the time Apollo’s a god again, he has a firm bead on the kind of person Zeus is, as well as the type of environment Mt. Olympus is, with most of his family just watching his trials and tribulations, everything he and his friends went through, and betting on the outcome. Only Artemis and Hera seemed to take things seriously, seemed to deeply care whether he lived or died.

Not that the others could have interfered against Zeus’s wishes.

As much as we pretended to be a council of twelve, in truth we were a tyranny. Zeus was less a benevolent father and more an iron-fisted leader with the biggest weapons and the ability to strip us of our immortality if we offended him. (TON 366)

Apollo just kind of hangs back for the council session, having little to say to anyone except Artemis, not caring much about what the other Olympians thought, and not really feeling like one of them as a whole. Though that was true even before he actually walked into the room.

I remembered my dream of the throne room - the other Olympians gambling on my success or failure. I wondered how much money they’d lost.

What could I possibly say to them? I no longer felt like one of them. I wasn’t one of them. (TON 358)

And finally, the long-awaited confrontation scene with Zeus. It wasn’t long. It wasn’t flashy. Unlike Meg, he couldn’t attack and get rid of his abuser, couldn’t get out from under his influence entirely. Zeus is King of the Gods; realizing that he’s an abusive asshole doesn’t change that.

But he COULD change his own response to the situation.

My father coughed into his fist. “ I know you think your punishment was harsh, Apollo.”

I did not answer. I tried my best to keep my expression polite and neutral.

“But you must understand,” Zeus continued, “only you could have overthrown Python. Only you could have freed the Oracles. And you did it, as I expected. The suffering, the pain along the way… regrettable, but necessary. You have done me proud.”

Interesting how he put that: I had done him proud. I had been useful in making him look good. My heart did not melt. I did not feel that this was a warm-and-fuzzy reconciliation with my father. Let’s be honest: some fathers don’t deserve that. Some fathers aren’t capable of it.

I suppose I could have raged at him and called him bad names. We were alone. He probably expected it. Given his awkward self-consciousness at the moment, he might even have let me get away with it unpunished.

But it would not have changed him. It would not have made anything different between us.

You cannot change a tyrant by trying to out-ugly him. Meg could never have changed Nero, any more than I could change Zeus. I could only try to be different than him. Better. More… human. And to limit the time I spent around him to as little as possible. (TON 367-368)

Apollo just... let go of any attachment to Zeus. It reminded me of the Cumaen SIbyl, with how she forgave Apollo for her own sake, how Apollo felt that he himself was being erased by that.

This isn’t a reconciliation; this is simply Apollo putting Zeus as far behind him as possible and trying to let him take up as little space in his life as he can. He may not be able to cut all ties to him, but he can at least minimize his connection to him, his influence over him.

In the end, Apollo doesn’t even really consider what he went through to be a punishment; not really.

To be honest, though, I could no longer consider my time on Earth a punishment. Terrible, tragic, nearly impossible… yes. But calling it a punishment gave Zeus too much credit. It had been a journey - an important one I made for myself, with the help of my friends. I hoped… I believed that the grief and pain had shaped me into a better person. I had forged a more perfect Lester from the dregs of Apollo. I would not trade those experiences for anything. And if I had been told I had to be Lester for another hundred years… Well, I could think of worse things. At least I wouldn’t be expected to show up at the Olympian solstice meetings. (TON 373)

Like with his conversation with Zeus, he’s minimizing Zeus’s control, his influence over himself and his life.

And in the end, Apollo leaves Mt. Olympus as soon as he can to spend time with all the new friends he’s made, away from the toxic influences of Olympus and of Zeus especially. Reaffirming his new identity, his new self by appearing in his Lester form, the form he’d grown in, that he’d forged for himself.

I just really love how in-depth Tower of Nero went, especially with the way it emphasized the identity manipulation and erasure involved with some kinds of abuse.

#trials of apollo #tower of nero #ton spoilers #lester papadopoulos #meg mccaffrey #toa analysis #my analysis

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lindwyrmrelinquished · 3 years

Note

So....what are some of your headcanons for Ranbutler?

OHHHHHHHHHH BUDDY, YOU ARE OPENING YOURSELF TO A WHOLE NEW CAN'O'BEANS HERE

OKAY SO FIRST OF ALL-

(everything else under the cut because there is a L O T )

Butler's human form is predominant(which unfortunately means he does not have a tail :(), but he can make Ender noises/speak Galactic. He's got a bunch of stims and tics, and making the Ender noises is one of them! He often makes them to fill the silence, or in times of high emotion(positive or negative. just imagine a Butler bouncing on his toes while excited Ender chirps keep coming out of his mouth, or he's rambling about something and half of it is layered with Galactic). Following from that, Butler has something that Billiam calls the "monochrome form". If he's under high levels of stress, whatever dark tint of color is in his right side will start spiking into the left side, making his skin darker(and, if he has enough color in his skin from NOT FUCKING OVERWORKING HIMSELF, it can get dark enough to blend into shadows) and spreading from the little black scales on his neck and cheeks and hands(which are already claws, that's why he wears gloves), and if he's really stressed/pissed, little horns are gonna start poking out of his skull and he's gonna be completely gray/black, his teeth are already deadly but they're gonna get sharper and if you look him in the eyes he will s c r e a m and very likely tear you apart if Billiam isn't there to hold him back/calm him down.

Speaking of! Butler very much dislikes eye contact. It makes them extremely uncomfortable and the Ender part is gonna start screaming to attack attack attack and the pupil-slit thing is gonna happen. Unfortunately, he's frozen by the eye contact and cannot move of his own free will, it's all going to be instinct to either get away or attack, if he moves at all. And the moment the eye contact is broken, he starts to calm down and all the screaming in his head starts to dissipate, so he doesn't really get the chance to consciously act on the Ender side's instinct.

NEXT OF ALL, throwing canon out the window and saying BILLIAM AND BUTLER ARE FOUND-FAMILY. The way they acted in the episode is just that, an act. In reality, they actually Care each other Very Very Much and have adopted each other into their respective hybrid groups(i.e Endermen have their hauntings, Piglins have their sounders{that part's not canon to mc but i yoinked it from a fic}). Hubert jokes about how Billiam accidentally adopted Bu as his son, but both Bu and Bi deny this. Hubert also got Liaria and James in on the joke and now these two are being constantly triple-teamed.

ON THAT NOTE Liaria and James know about the Egg. It happened at the tail end of Bu's first masquerade when they started accusing Billiam of committing all the murders, and Bu kind of panicked and outed himself as the killer, he pulled out the knife and everything. Billiam admitted that he knew about this, and showed them the Egg as explanation. Now Liaria and James willingly give up their bought lives to the Egg on the regular(we might get into the lives thing later{it was also something i yoinked from a fic, and then I gave it more explanation}) to keep Billiam and his family alive, but they're not all that affected by it due to not even being near it half the time.

AND ON THAT NOTE, let's talk about Butler's relationship with the Egg! Bad. It's bad. Absolutely terrible, the two despise each other immensely. I like to say they're the closest thing to caliginous that a teenaged hybrid that lived off spite and an ancient crimson demon can be. The Egg's hurt Bu a lot, and honestly that's part of the reason his contempt and fear for it is so high. But that's also part of the reason why Billiam was pulled out of its influence despite living right above it. Because he cares for Bu, a literal child that's suffered severe mental and physical trauma at the hands(well, vines) of the Egg. Honestly? Billiam wouldn't be the way he is now if he didn't have to take trips to the Nether. Short explanation, too much time away from their home realm gets hybrids really really sick. So, about a few months or so after Bu arrived, he had to yeet back there for a week and just told Butler and Hubert to take care of the mansion. And you know what Hubert did, that bitch? He took advantage of both Billiam's absence and Butler's skill and pampered himself while throwing the entire load onto the child. And then like halfway through the week, he got the idea to introduce said child to the Egg, who before then has had no idea it ever existed aside from the crimson red aura around the mansion(it's a whole thing about Endermen and magic but again, another thing I might get into later). He hadn't even attended a party before then. So, yeah, Hubert just left him down in one of the old cells for three days. Didn't even check on him, that bitch. And then when Billiam game back, suffice to say he was PISSED. He may be a rich bastard who causes murders biweekly, but even he has standards, and hurting a damn 7-8 year old child that bad was not one of them. he can't be held responsible for child labor, bu followed him home by his own choice. again, another whole backstory thing

Bu's genderfluid! He usually switches between he/him and they/them, and the direction he nods is a little indicator of which one(up for gender, down for no), but sometimes he uses she/her. Adding on that, due to Weird Enderman Genetics, he can manipulate his hair to grow real fast and likes to experiment with it in the mornings for Maximum Gender Euphoria This means that one day his hair could be barely touching his neck, and the next it's all the way down to his waist. It's a fun little anomaly and sometimes Billiam likes to play with it when it gets longer :3 travelling on the lgbt train, Bu is also ace/aro! This doesn't have much impact story-wise(usually), but it's just a fun little tidbit :3 On other, more Ender notes, he has pretty much all the traits an Enderman does, even if he looks fully human aside from being 6 inches taller than Sir Billiam himself. With the eye-contact thing, I've got a headcanon that Endermen can kind of read minds to an extent if they look into another entity's eyes, but it gets loud and borderline painful if anything but another Enderman does the same. Meanwhile, Bu's about the perfect mix of an Enderman and a Human(later called Players and Villagers depending on their capabilities) to be able to take at least a few seconds of eye contact. He can also teleport! To about the same extent as Endermen, if not a little less. Unfortunately, spending too much time in the void between teleportations(i.e a few hours for him, though an hour in the void is a minute in reality. It's why teleporting happens in the blink of an eye to anyone but the user) has some adverse effects. Bu's either glitched, gotten some sort of void-sickness like a flu but worse, and/or lost large chunks of memory each of the separate times he stuck himself in there for too long. Pure-blooded Endermen have a longer tolerance, but even they can succumb to the void with enough time.

Bu's also hurt by water, and the first time Billiam really figured this out is when he dragged him to the roof because it was raining and for some reason, Bi really likes the rain. Bu, on the other hand, was hospitalized for a day once Billiam actually realized, "oh, he's burning" Unfortunately, Bu can still produce tears, so he's got some scars on his cheeks and hands from those, Luckily, though! Billiam got him some gloves and a facemask reminiscent of cc!Ranboo to hide those scars because bu's. really self-conscious about them :,D

But also he's got TOE BEANS,

[ahem] So Endermen are basically giant block-holding teleporting cats and no one can convince me very much otherwise. So on the one hand, they have giant hands shaped for holding blocks. On the other hand, T O E B E A N S

So Bu's got beans on the pads of his fingers and feet(which also end in claws with a black gradient because Peak Character Design <3). Billiam likes to hold his hands on the rare occasion he doesn't wear his gloves because mans likes to stim with those toe beans. Meanwhile Billiam himself has nicely-textured hands because of his Piglin hooves and Bu also likes to stim with them, so just. them holding each others hands for mutual stimmage

[ahem] anyway

Bu stims!! He flaps his hands and does thing really rapidly and harshly when he's really high-strung, which doesn't happen often, at least in front of people. Boy's got anxiety so he's had his fair share of panic attacks :,D he just knows how to disguise them so people don't see, but Billiam knows the signs at this point. But he also has a lot of vocal stims/tics, mainly lots of Enderman noises, some popping and a little screechy thing here and there. Sometimes he picks up a sound and then repeats it a whole bunch because it feels nice on the tongue :] there's also these poofs of particles that happen when he's happy, they look like mini purple fireworks and they're like an expulsion of magic, he can feel when they happen and it feels nice :]

(cw for self-harm in this paragraph and the followed copy-pasted convo)

[ahemhemhem] So y'know how Butler's an Ender-hybrid? His hands and feet reflect that(along with the ears, the eyes, the height, the abilities, but we're talking about about the hands here). Part of why he keeps those gloves on almost 24/7 is to dull his claws, which are not so much an intentional danger to others rather than an unintentional danger to himself. He's got tics and stims and is very neurodivergent and has anxiety(me projecting? noooo /hj), so he gets very nervous very easily. And one of his nervous habits rather than wringing his hands, fidgeting, and (if really bad)a heightened amount of tics, he tends to scratch at his arms. His claws can tear through the fabric easily, and more than one or two suits have been sent back to the tailors for repairs to the sleeves. However, having both padded sleeves and padded gloves nullifies that, so he always wears them special-made. If he didn't have that habit, he likely wouldn't have the gloves on as often as he does.

Friend Hey good headcanons 👀👀👀👀👀👀👀 Also ohhhh my god Billiam fussing over him and his gloves until he gets them to be the right amount of padded where Bu can still do things but also not hurt himself

Me gbfhdgbhgsfhbgsfdhdf He keeps examining them every time the tailors try but it doesn't feel right until That Specific Try so he just plops the gloves back on the counter and says "Do it again"

Friend They spend an entire day doing nothing but making gloves while Billiam & Hubert take turns watching Butler to make sure he stays safe

Me Absolutely Problem is Butler can feel eyes on him. And eyes make him nervous :,) so when he gets nervous. he starts to scratch at his arms again and anxiety is too much for him to ask them to stop watching him

Friend It ends up with them just having to hold his hands, looking at random things (they can go sit on the balcony or something so they have something pretty to look at)

Me That hold on actually that's adorable-

Friend Fhhdjdjdjsjsj they're friends your honor

Me Absolutely Even Hubert contributes to keeping him safe. And Hubert's afraid of even being near Butler

Friend And then we get bonding via the oh no Billiam is busy and Hubert has to take care of Bu for the next 3 hours

Me GHDSFGSHFGS THAT IS A GREAT IDEA Butler insists he can do everything himself, nothing's different about the routine, and then he has a mental breakdown when he tries to make food without anyone else in the kitchen- Cause usually Hubert's there, even if he's making something else. There's at least another presence, and that's the sort of thing that's calming for Bu. But Hubert's off setting up the table for lunch/dinner or something and Butler makes One minor slip-up and spirals from there until he's struggling even handling spice mixing The same thing happened with cookies one time, and both times Hubert found him borderline unable to function because he panicked too much and helped him out of it.

Friend Butler is just curled up in the kitchen, trying to have a quiet panic attack because he can't cause the others any more trouble than he already is, and Hubert is very quietly upset about helping him because he was doing so good at avoiding Bu but here he is again being the only thing that's letting this kid breathe

Me Absolutely

Friend Do you think Bu passes out on him? Like Hubert (probably reluctantly) gives Butler a hug cause those help, and Bu was just supposed to stay there until he felt better, but panic attacks are exhausting and he fell asleep at some point-

Me Oh my gods he would though, especially with the amount of sleep he gets He'd have to try so hard to even stay conscious, much less do things in the manner he usually does, and Hubert just quietly tells him that it's okay to sleep; he'll take care of everything. Hu never forgets that of course Bu's always in danger around him - he has fleeting thoughts and quite often knows how to act on them - but he stands up holding an exhausted child and takes him to his room so he can rest. Butler may want him to stay; Endermen usually want someone around when sleeping. It's the security of having someone watch for nightmares, but Hubert doesn't stay. He has to go back to the kitchen and finish that meal Bu was making. But if he's still asleep by the time Hu's done with everything, he might linger outside his door, listening in for anything bad.

(Okay the cw is over now, you may now go back to your regularly scheduled content :,D)

Also, one last thing: Billiam gives Butler a bunch of gold things(including the masquerade mask) because that's what Piglins do with their sounders, they cover them in gold to show they care. And after Bu finding out the reason why Billiam's been handing off a bunch of gold things to him he does not cry, because that would hurt his face, but he does feel quite a lot of things that make him want to because holy shit Billiam feels the same

Butler is Billiam's sounder and Billiam is Butler's haunting, they are family your honor

#mod note #mod post #ask #anon #tftsmp billiam #tftsmp butler #tftsmp hubert #this is a. R E A L L Y . long post #THANK GOD FOR POST CUTS HUH #good god there is SO MUCH content in here #i just copy-pasted all my rambles from my dms-#my friends must suffer and now you will too <3

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some-dr-writings · 4 years

Text

Hajime and Rantaro sing to comfort their S/O

Hajime Hinata:

· You always overthought everything. No matter what you did or said, moments later you’d just think it over and over and over again. Often this cycle lead to the not so great result of you panicking turning a simple greeting to a person, into you worrying, thinking maybe you insulted the person. Your mind tended to take more pessimistic lines of thinking which certainly didn’t help.

· It was a bad habit of yours to overthink everything, but it had it’s perks. Often when others were making plans you’d realize things they never thought of. It saved you and Hajime from being caught outside during the rain when on a date more times than either of you could count. It was an aspect of you Hajime was rather found of, though he didn’t like how it troubled you sometimes.

· After years of dating Hajime knew the two best ways to help you were to either get you to think of something else, or talk out the various scenarios you came up with, you soon laughing at yourself with how extreme your imagination could go before letting go of the subject.

· Thankfully these were both things he could still do long distance. Since he joined Hope’s Peak he had to move away and live in the dormitories on campus. After school he’d call and talk with you. You’d chat about whatever either of you wanted.

· One day after school Chiaki noticed he was rather spacey and asked what was wrong. He simply said he missed his partner and wanted to chat with you, which… it was true, to an extent. He knew he couldn’t speak of it, of the experiment Hope’s Peak had offered to him, the most plain, unremarkable student at the school. An experiment that could turn him into a different person, the Ultimate Ultimate. He couldn’t tell you, but… this was a lot to take in. Even if he couldn’t tell you, he just wanted to hear you. Maybe he could give a vague scenario like his and ask for your over analysis of it. Or maybe just not think of it, just laugh about nothing and momentarily and go back to it with a clearer head later.

· He sat on his bed, just staring at his phone. Taking a deep breath, he tapped the call button. He listened to that ringing drone on in his hear, holding the device to it. One ring, two rings, three rings, fo- click. “Ah, hey Hajime. Not gaming with Nanami today?” “No, I want to be with you right now. Though you sound a bit… on edge.” “Heh, heh. Yeah, one blunder after another.” He heard the rubbing of some fabric on your end, likely you flopping onto your bed, looking exhausted as you snuggle into the pillows as you so often did when your overthinking became overwhelming, where you were just stuck in your head and couldn’t escape.

· Alright so talking through it all may be a bit too taxing for you right now, so distraction. But what to do? Send you a funny video? A meme? Maybe send you a song? Oh maybe… Maybe he could sing? That way he wouldn’t have to cut the call short, and who knows maybe he’d sing so horribly he could draw a laugh from you. Hajime didn’t have much going for him, but one thing he did have, was determination, and he was determined to help alleviate your stresses.

· Admittedly this was rather embarrassing, but if it was for you, he’d do whatever it took.

· He started off softly humming nothing in particular just, feeling his way though this new experience, he never sang or at least never sang much before this moment. Soon he opened his mouth allowing the words to some song on the radio that kept playing recently. It wasn’t perfect, he forgot the lyrics part way through and fumbled when switching to some other song with a similar sound. Though unsure what he was doing, he still tried, a stubbornness in himself he never could quite shake, even if it got him into trouble when he was little.

· Suddenly he was cut off, a sneeze startling him to silence. “Sorry Hajime.” “Huh, no, no. Don’t be sorry.” You still sounded haggard. You thanked him and started talking about the latest volume of your favorite manga series you had read that day. He should have known. He should have known that someone like him couldn’t do much. Maybe, if he were the Super High School Level singer, he truly could have eased you.

· If he were just better, more powerful in some way, he could help you. You knew how to deal with your buzzing thoughts, but he wanted to be able to do more.

· And…

· Maybe.

· Just maybe he could.

· If he were someone else.

· …

· At times, his stubbornness truly could be troublesome.

Rantaro Amami:

· Ah singing. A leisurely pass time Rantaro often did without notice. He whistled as he went about doing chores, hum as he went out for strolls, mumble lyrics of songs he knew should he hear them.

· He loved music. If he hadn’t spent his time searching for his sisters, he may have dedicated himself to music and could have become the Super High School Level Musician or DJ or something similar. But his sisters meant more than anything else to him, so his own passions were set on the back burner indefinitely till he found each and every last one. Afterall, how could he even think of pursuing that passion without those who ignited that passion in the first place.

· And you, his partner often found him partaking in this hobby. “How come you always hum so much?” “Hum? Well…” He paused for a moment, leaning against the railing, looking out to the open ocean, the salty sea air racing past flowing through his hair, tossing it about. “Heh, just like everything else, it goes back to my sisters. When they had nightmares, I’d lay next to them in bed and I’d sing. It was the only thing I could think of to sooth them.” He fell silent his gaze lingering on that crisp, clear blue before shifting back to you. “Hey, what’s wrong.” “Ah, I just… A thought just occurred to me. A random connection you might say.” You momentarily glanced away from him, your troubled expression shifting to something soft, something gentle. “Your sisters being missing. Would you call this a living nightmare?” “… I see what you’re getting at.” He slithered an arm around your waist and pulled you close, looking back to the ocean. “I guess I mostly sing and hum when my mind wanders, often to them.” “But it can’t work, right. You sang to your sisters, they didn’t sing to themselves so for you to be soothed, you need someone to sing to you.” A light blush dusted your cheeks as you nuzzled into him, humming slowly transitioning into soft singing.”

· And that was how you started singing for him. It was always at times you knew his mind wandered to them, wondering how they were, if they were safe and happy. He always smiled when you sang. He’d be a little extra affectionate, wanting to show he really, truly appreciated you and what you were doing for him. You were so amazing, he had no idea what he’d do if he lost you too, so he always held your hand, no matter where the pair of you went.

· You tried going searching with Rantaro as often as you could, but you had your own life and responsibilities to take care of so many times you had to make things work long distance. No matter what time it was for Rantaro, day or night, you’d call him as you slipped into bed, and you’d sing to him only stopping as you fell asleep. Even though you’d never hear it, Rantaro would whisper you wishes of well rest and sweet dreams before ending the call. He’d then hold the phone to his chest, goofily smiling, telling anyone near by how amazing you, his partner was. This gesture absolutely melted his heart each and every time he couldn’t keep his affection for you all bottled in, he had to tell someone!

· Though he wished to find his sisters more than anything, coming back to you was always a treat, he could finally shower you in all the love and affection you deserved. But one time when he reunited with you- “Hey, hey, what’s wrong?” “Sorry, just…” A deep sigh escaped you as you slightly went limp. “it’s been a real long day.” He hugged you, unable to continue looking into your dewy eyes.

· The moment he could, he coaxed you to bed, having you rest your head in his lap and there you let out all the madness that had been swirling around you. He had to do something to at least alleviate your pain in the moment. He didn’t even think about it, it was simply instinctive. And so, he sung. He sung your favorite song hoping to sooth you.

· Which it did?

· He was confused hearing you trying to hold in a laugh. “What’s gotten you so giggly?” “N-no, no, ignore me. Keep singing.” And so he did, but once more stopped when you burst into laughter. “S-sorry, sorry!” “Y/N… I only ever told you I sang to sooth my sisters, right? Well, I never said I was any good at singing, and what’s more soothing than laughter?” So his serenade continued, belting out without holding back, making up silly lyrics when he couldn’t recall the real ones, his tone constantly wavering making you think he were tone deaf. Normally something like this would be grating on the ears but he put so much energy and passion into it, it couldn’t help but become endearing in some form.

· Though he loved it, he was not good at singing, but he didn’t care. Good or bad, it helped you and his sisters, and that was all that mattered to him.

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himikiyo · 3 years

Text

cityscapes turn to dust // himikiyo week day 1

Himikiyo Week Day 1: Folklore + Magic

“Trying to defy death, hmm? You’re choosing to take the hard road just as I did. If I don’t have enough time left to change your mind, all I can do is wish you luck.”

Korekiyo's actions taking care of their sister catch up to them.

Read on AO3, DRA, or under the cut

They had to travel light these days. With the city so ravaged, it was common to pick up and leave at a moment’s notice, and there was only so much Himiko could carry. Kiyo was much stronger than her of course, but even the essentials weighed a fair bit. Most of her possessions, along with theirs, remained at their house, still locked up tight for the time being. Someone determined enough would still be able to break in, but she tried not to think about that.

Material possessions weren’t as important as a life anyway.

Despite traveling light though, Korekiyo seemed to be getting weaker. She told them they just needed rest, but they both knew that wasn’t it. The last time they visited their sister, she put up a fight. Perhaps she knew what was coming, and recognized the sickle in their hand. Either way, she bit them again. Maybe that was the final exposure their body could take after holding out so long.

Their arm was wreathed in broken veins, a sickly purplish crown centered on the bite mark. The imprint of each and every tooth was still clearly visible over a week later whenever she checked under the bandages. She picked her opportunities carefully, when they were half asleep or in a particularly good mood. That way, she hoped, they wouldn’t be quite so upset about how cold it was to remove any layers.

She checked every night to make sure they were still breathing. It was getting harder to tell.

---

People still tried to avoid saying the word zombie. Euphemisms were used: infected, changed. Sometimes there was no more than an indirect reference, like the grandmother who told her that “some of them” drove her out of her home. Maybe it was a foolish desire, since this elderly woman had clearly done well enough for herself to escape that, but Himiko wanted to help her.

“Why don’t you stay with us?” she asked. “Just for a little while. We don’t have much, but it’d be safer than traveling alone.”

“Thank you, dear,” the woman replied, adjusting her shawl. “But I like my chances. I’ve made it this far. If you’ll accept some advice from an old woman...” She trailed off momentarily, casting a meaningful glance at Kiyo. “You may want to consider striking out on your own too. There’s something not right about that one.”

“They’ve just been a little sick lately. Once we find somewhere safe to get medicine, they’ll be fine.” The lie tasted bitter on her tongue, but she couldn’t stand saying anything else. Without Korekiyo, she was sure she’d be long since dead.

“Sick? Or changing? Sometimes the hardest lesson to learn is when there’s nothing more to be done.”

“No, that’s not—” She broke off, swiping miserably at her eyes. Kiyo still sat in the corner. Wearing three sweaters to fight a mild early autumn chill, they gave off the impression of an especially gangly marshmallow. It seemed like they were oblivious to the conversation, but Himiko knew better. They always observed more than people gave them credit for.

“Don’t let your friend suffer, dear.” After pressing a small, paper-wrapped package into her hands, the grandmother left. Himiko watched until she vanished from view, hoping she arrived safely to wherever she was headed.

---

“So,” Kiyo said some time later. “When are you planning to kill me? She gave you everything you need to do it, didn’t she?”

“What? No, I’d never. You know I’d never do something like that.” Perched on the edge of the couch they were laying on, she combed a hand through their hair. It helped her fight the urge to rest it on their forehead and see how much their temperature had dropped.

“Yet you encouraged me that putting my sister out of her misery was the right thing to do.”

“That’s different. She wasn’t herself anymore.” As always, she bit back the part about how even with her full mental faculties, that would have been what she deserved.

“Any day now, you might come to find that I am not myself anymore either. Then I will no longer be able to cooperate with your attempts to do it painlessly.”

“That won’t happen,” she argued, fingers involuntarily tightening in their hair for just a moment. “If it was going to happen, it would have already. That was, what, the fifth time she bit you or something? It’s like you told me that first day I found out the truth. You’re immune.”

“Immune.” They scoffed, face contorting into something between a grimace and a scowl. “That was never anything but a lie I allowed myself to believe. I’m not immune. I’m dying.”

“No, you’re not,” Himiko mumbled. She inched closer to them on the couch, laying her head on their bony shoulder. Through sweaters and blankets, it almost felt soft. “I won’t let you.”

“Trying to defy death, hmm? You’re choosing to take the hard road just as I did. If I don’t have enough time left to change your mind, all I can do is wish you luck.” Numb fingers tugged their mask down to press a kiss to her forehead. The old, scarred-over bite wound on their neck was taking on the same purplish hue as their arm.

---

She woke up the next morning with her head resting on their chest. She couldn’t hear a heartbeat.

Shinguuji Korekiyo was dead.

After she came to that realization but before she could figure out what she should do about it, they stirred, feebly trying to shove the blankets off.

“Too hot,” they mumbled, rolling over (or trying to — the attempt wasn’t very successful with half her weight still on them).

“Kiyo?” It had been weeks since they had anything temperature-related to say that wasn’t complaining of being too cold. Not to mention the bigger issue of their lack of vital signs. Straightening up fully, Himiko leaned over them to meet their eyes. They were groggy and unfocused, but they clearly seemed to recognize her.

“What? You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”

“I guess I have in a way,” she responded, choking out a shaky laugh. “You.”

They sat up slowly, giving her a perplexed look. Did they not even realize what was going on? Surely they had to feel different. She reached out and laid a hand on their chest, just to be certain. Was she so exhausted that she just missed it before? After flexing their wrist, stretching their arm — stiff, maybe from the lack of blood flow? — they overlapped her hand with their own.

“I see. I didn’t imagine becoming a zombie would feel so pleasant.”

“Pleasant? How can you be so calm?”

“I actually feel better than I have in quite some time,” they admitted. “It’s rather comfortable. I do seem to have a certain degree of numbness, but it’s a worthwhile exchange to be free from all the recent pain and discomfort I’ve experienced. Considering my mind seems to be intact, at least as much as I can tell from my own biased perspective, death might not be so bad. If nothing else, it gives me something new to study.”

“Oh. Well, I’m glad you’re feeling better, but I don’t know if it’s normal to accept something like this so quickly.”

She was forgetting, of course, that Kiyo had never quite been normal.

---

Over time, it became clear that them saying they had “a certain degree of numbness” was a bit of an understatement. If she happened to touch them when they weren’t looking, they only seemed to notice about half the time. Their pain tolerance, already high, had increased to such an extent that it was very possible for them to sustain serious injuries without noticing. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like they were in any danger of dying again.

They were still capable of healing, just at a slower rate than a living person. The bite wounds were gradually becoming less evident, flesh repairing itself in defiance of the laws of biology.

That didn’t save her from the unpleasantness of acting as their doctor.

Her first lesson in zombie surgery was a jarring one. The glass shards embedded in their leg likely could have been avoided if they had as much feeling as they used to, but there was no point in agonizing over could have beens. The good news was that they barely seemed affected, glancing down at the heavy wounds with little more than bemused intrigue.

“Ah. I thought something stung a bit. We should probably take a moment to deal with this,” they said smoothly.

“Um, yeah, probably. It really doesn’t hurt? You’re bleeding a lot. What if you run out or something? We don’t exactly know all about how this whole zombie thing works.”

“It’s alright,” Kiyo said. “I think. If I can heal from injuries, it follows that I must still be capable of regenerating my blood supply. However, leaving broken glass there could cause problems. You should remove it.”

“Me? Why?”

“You should get used to tending to my wounds just in case there comes a time when I’m unable to do so myself.”

---

She got plenty of practice. Most of their injuries were minor, but she dutifully took care of each one nevertheless. When she really thought about it, sometimes she wondered if they acted a little carelessly on purpose just to give her experience. They’d always teetered dangerously on the edge of masochism, and now there was the added temptation of learning more about zombie physiology to boot.

Sure enough though, that time Kiyo mentioned did come eventually. So far, it seemed nearly impossible for them to die again, but that didn’t do much to diminish the dread that flowed through her when she saw the exposed muscle and bone of their arm, flayed open like so many of the other shambling zombies they’d seen over the past several weeks.

They grimaced when she started to clean up the wound. It was barely a flicker of pain, but even that was significant considering how much they were able to get through without batting an eye.

“Apologies, dear,” they murmured. “Continue.”

“Sorry. Kind of weird how quickly this has become normal.” She leaned in, pressing a soft kiss to their lips before continuing.

Pulling the edges of the wound together and stitching it up nice and securely...She wasn’t the neatest with her sewing, but she was getting better, and Kiyo always insisted they didn’t mind.

“Beautiful work, my love,” they praised, smiling down at their rather Frankenstein-esque arm. “That’s much better already.”

Himiko just smiled, wrapping the arm up again in their usual bandages.

“I’ll always be here to sew you back again. For now, we should probably both get some rest.” They were only a day away from the village of their hopes.

#himikiyoweek2021 #himikiyoweek #himikiyo #korekiyo shinguji #himiko yumeno #danganronpa #dr #drv3 #m

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