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rowenasdarling · 11 days ago

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Fluff Alphabet

i wrote out an entire ellewena fluff alphabet under the cut <3

this is specifically about my relationship with her so like idk don’t rb this and make it an x reader situation. it’s not x reader. this is ME. AND. HER. nobody else.

dni proshippers or ship doubles

Activities - What do they like to do with their s/o? How do they spend their free time with them?

we get surprisingly domestic a lot of the time. nothing hits like snuggling up with blankets and pillows on the sofa and binge watching something. she'll rest her head on my shoulder and let me play with her fingers or fiddle with her rings. that being said, she's also one for very extravagant dates. like, she's forcing me into the fanciest places available and telling me i can have anything i want no matter the cost (it's not like either of us are paying for it anyway, if the hex bag in her coat pocket is anything to go by).

Beauty - What do they admire about their s/o? What do they think is beautiful about them?

i admire every single thing about her...... she's the prettiest thing in the whole world. her hair's especially beautiful though; so orange, like fire. and i think her ambition and determination are beautiful too. even her ruthlessness, in its own way. she knows what she wants and she'll get it and that extends to the people she cares for too, because she'd hunt down anyone if they touched a hair on my head.

i think she admires my resilience. she thinks i’m brave because she knows how badly i’ve been hurt before, but i still managed to put my trust in her and let her have my heart. she said she wouldn't hurt me and i took her word for it even though it was terrifying.

Comfort - How would they help their s/o when they feel down/have a panic attack etc.?

similar approaches. gentle touches and cuddles. talking about it, if it would help, or not talking about it if that's what one of us needs. she makes me tea and sometimes enchants it (lightly!) with something to cheer me up or calm me down or whatever suits, and she'll sing if i ask her to. i try to make her laugh and then shower her in compliments about how pretty her smile is.

Dreams - How do they picture their future with their s/o?

not too dissimilar from where we’re at now. we don’t exactly have any of the more “traditional” ideas of a future. we just want to live and enjoy and do it together.

Equal - Are they the dominant one in the relationship, or rather passive?

ro's definitely the dominant one. obviously. even now she's still pretty self-centred. which is fine, i think it's quite cute. she likes things to be how she wants them, she likes to be calling the shots. that's not to say she doesn't hear me though, she does. she's just much more of a natural leader than i am. mostly i’m happy to let her take the lead and i know that if/when i do want to raise something with her, she'll listen. she's not totally allergic to compromise.

Fight - Would they be easy to forgive their s/o? How are they fighting?

she can get… a bit nasty. she’s quite well known for being generally cruel and cutting, and she knows what all my weak spots are so she knows exactly what to say to hurt me. she does, in the heat of the moment. but it makes her feel terrible, and when she apologises later, she means it. she always makes sure i know that she didn’t actually mean what she said, she only said it because she knew it would be hurtful.

she can hold. a. grudge. i mean look how long she’s been a hater towards the grand coven, for starters. the woman literally runs on spite and hubris. but i’ve got no qualms about throwing myself at her feet and begging for forgiveness if i have to (not that i ever have had to. but i would and she knows it). if i upset her i’d be distraught and she’s well aware that her being unhappy with me is my actual worst nightmare, so she can bring herself to accept an apology from me because she knows i’d do anything to make it up to her and i don’t want her to be unhappy.

Gratitude - How grateful are they in general? Are they aware of what their s/o is doing for them?

HAHAHAHAHA. little miss megalomania, grateful? be serious. she’s always always always wanting more.

that being said though i’d say she is pretty grateful for me and aware of what i do for her. she’s used to people using her and stabbing her in the back, not doing things for her just because they care for her and want her to be happy. at first she always took it from me with a level of suspicion because she thought i was buttering her up for something, but eventually she was able to accept that i treat her the way i treat her just because i want to, and i don’t expect anything for it.

Honesty - Do they have secrets they hide from their s/o? Or do they share everything?

she’s a schemer. i’m sure there’s a whole lot of stuff i don’t know about. a lot of the time, she keeps things from me because she thinks it’s just safer that way; she’s involved in some nasty business and she’d rather keep me away from it as much as possible.

Inspiration - Did their s/o change them somehow, or the other way around? Like trying out new things or helped them overcome personal problems?

she can let her guard down around me, which is something she can’t do at any other time. like i said, she’s used to people using her, plotting against her, stabbing her in the back, throwing her under the bus. i help her accept that love doesn’t have to only mean weakness, and even if it does make you feel weak sometimes, that doesn’t have to be a bad thing if the person you love can be trusted with it.

she’s helping me not be so scared of being close to someone. i’ve told her about what’s happened to me and how it’s made me terrified to trust someone with my heart, and she’s very set on proving that i can trust her with it. and she’s doing good so far. she’s the safest thing i know <3

Jealousy - Do they get jealous easily? How do they deal with it?

she doesn’t exactly get jealous because she’s very, very egotistical and she genuinely just thinks she’s better and more deserving of my time than anyone else that i may or may not talk to (and to be fair my constant heart eyes aren’t exactly proving her wrong). but she can get quite possessive over me. she’d boil anyone’s brain if she didn’t like how they were looking at me. i’m hers and she likes me to know it <3

Kiss - Are they a good kisser? What was the first kiss like?

Y E S. VERY.

on my end it was hesitant and very shy, on hers it was obscenely smug and self-satisfied. and then she took great pleasure in making fun of the way i literally melted into a puddle.

“you look like you’re about to pass out, dear. i can practically hear your heart racing. i mean, it’s goin’ like the clappers! does it really only take a wee kiss to reduce you to this?”

Love Confession - How would they confess to their s/o?

she didn’t, i said it first. it was during one of many times she’s talked with me about my issues and i admitted that i was frightened because i’d caught actual legitimate feelings for her and it made me scared that, essentially, all the bad things that happened when i’d loved before would happen again. and i was worried that it was going to be too much for her. that i wanted too much and she wouldn’t be interested, that by being in love with her i would become more hassle than i’m worth. but she said that wasn’t the case because my feelings aren’t one-sided, and that’s kind of how she first told me <3

Marriage - Do they want to get married? How do they propose? What would the marriage be like?

frankly i would be terrified if she proposed because all her previous vERY RICH fiancés have MYSTERIOUSLY DIED..... SO.....

actually though, i don't believe in marriage and she just doesn't really care. we don't feel like we need that to prove we love each other. especially with her, a very human custom/institute like marriage kind of stops meaning much when you're a few centuries old.

she’s kinda into the pretty ring part though, because she’s spoiled and likes her bling, so we might just do that. i dunno. sometimes i think about asking her to do some sort of pagan binding instead, but i’ve never brought it up. but yeah if we were going to do anything adjacent to the m word, it’d be something like that.

Nicknames - What do they call their s/o?

she says dear and darlin’ alllllll the time, and she’s partial to “my dove” as well (she uses these for everybody, not just me). she does have some that she only uses for me: sweetheart, sweetpea (!!!!!!!), honey, honeybun, sometimes just bunny or wee bunny (even though she’s smaller than me…) and if she’s really really wanting to coddle me, babybun. can you tell she likes comparing me to bunnies?

On Cloud Nine - What are they like when they are in love? Is it obvious for others? How do they express their feelings?

she spoils me :) she’s generally a very very selfish little woman, but she finds herself just wanting to give me things/protect me/etc. i think a lot of it is also kind of like… not exactly making up for lost time, but she usually likes to think of herself as this cold-hearted bitch that doesn’t love or need anybody. what that actually means is, since she doesn’t want to go handing it out, all of her capacity for love is directed solely at me.

she’s not particularly obvious about it. i mean, she’s pretty obvious about there being something going on because she’s got a negative amount of shame, but people tend to assume it’s more like. y’know. not exactly an emotional thing.

she’s more inclined towards offering tender actions than tender words. sometimes she’ll just do things really gently, like petting my hair or something inconsequential like that, but it’s so tender. she does give out nice words sometimes too, but it’s usually reserved for the soft, nice moments like when we’re all snuggled up together just relaxing in each others company. conversely, she loves to hear how adored she is. she’s an actual egomaniac and she laps it up every single time, and i enable her because her little smug smile is the cutest thing ever. she always looks proud as punch.

PDA - Are they upfront about their relationship? Do they brag with their s/o in front of others? Or are they rather shy to kiss etc. when others are watching?

as we’ve already established she’s absolutely shameless and, in fact, quite notorious for showing off. so yeah, she’s bragging big time.

Quirk - Some random ability they have that’s beneficial in a relationship.

the magic comes in handy in more scenarios than i can count. she can magic away my headaches, use it to put me to sleep when the insomnia is bad, she enchants my jewellery to put me in a good mood, little things like that.

Romance - How romantic are they? What would they do to make their s/o happy? Cliché or rather creative?

she’s more sensual than sensitive. she’s not overly romantic simply because she’s never had much reason to be until now, so it doesn’t come naturally to her. but she does have her moments and when she does, she’s adorable. she’s good at planning elaborate and extravagant dates and keeping the whole thing a secret to surprise me, which i encourage her to do because i know getting to plot and scheme is important for her well-being <3

Support - Are they helping their s/o achieve their goals? Do they believe in them?

she’s actually very supportive. she’s always always always in my corner no matter what, and to have someone like her in your corner kinda has a way of making one feel capable of anything.

Thrill - Do they need to try out new things to spice out your relationship? Or do they prefer a certain routine?

she’s a wildcard. she never shies away from new things. she’s a big fan of keeping things spicy and exciting.

Understanding - How good do they know their partner? Are they empathetic?

she knows me better than anyone else, and she’s actually surprisingly sweet and gentle with me. most would think she’s incapable of being like that, but she is. she’s just really choosy about who she gives that side of herself to. she’s pretty much the one thing that makes me feel better no matter what, and she knows it and uses that to her own advantage. if i’m unhappy, she knows all she needs to do to make it better is be with me.

Value - How important is the relationship to them? What is it’s worth in comparison to other things in their life?

it’s important, deep down. as i said, i’m pretty much the only source of genuine actual love and intimacy she has, and she’s the same for me. i wouldn’t ask her to weigh up the worth of the relationship though. i don’t think a relationship is comparable to other things in life, its a category of its own and comparing it to other things seems unfair to me.

for why it’s worth though, she’s everything to me. i wouldn’t manage without her. i’d fall apart. i can’t say the same for her, but that’s okay. she’d rather have me than not, she’d be sad without me, but she’d get on. she’s a survivor over anything else. she always manages, no matter what. but she’ll never have to manage alone <3

Wild Card - A random Fluff Headcanon.

she’s a chocolate fiend. she keeps a little stash under the bed and i wake up in the night often to a rustling sound, look over and she’s hanging off the edge of the bed foraging for her sweets. she always attempts to gaslight me about this next morning — “you must’ve dreamt that, honey, i slept through the whole night!” — but it never works.

XOXO - Are they very affectionate? Do they love to kiss and cuddle?

VERY AFFECTIONATE. she loves kisses — all kinds — and hugs and handholding. she’s big on casual touches as well — linked arms, brushing against me when we sit next to each other, a hand on my back to coax me ahead of her or holding my waist when she’s squeezing past me, that sort of thing. and she’s despicable when she’s asleep, she has to be all sprawled out all over me.

( also, she likes to be little spoon. don’t tell her i told u. )

Yearning - How will they cope when they’re missing their partner?

she’ll text me no matter where she is or how inappropriate it might be to have her phone out. she quite literally does not care about appearing rude. she likes me more than whoever she’s with anyway, so why would she give her attention to them when she could give it to me?

Zeal - Are they willing to go to great lengths for the relationship? If so, what kind of?

does coming back from the dead count? i mean she’d be doing that anyway but she’s definitely doing it for me. she’s also a little more careful, a little less reckless — even though she’ll not stay dead, it’s still a hassle to die and come back. more importantly though, it’d be absolutely traumatising for me if she died, even if it’s not permanent, so she takes extra precautions now and is less reckless.

she’s also given up a certain subset of the numerous scams she’s been known to run. no more fake fiancés that mysteriously die for her, thank you. again, she’d rather give her time to me than whatever stupid rich guy she could swindle. she’s getting on just fine selling spells and rigging poker games.

#🔮 got a black magic woman #self ship #self shipping #f/o community #fictional other #self ship community #selfship #f/o #fem f/o #wlw selfship #selfship writing #self ship writing #self shipper #selfshipper #selfship community #self shipping community #self ship headcanons #selfship headcanons

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dana-chan-the-control-brain · 1 year ago

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Ngl 'm kinda salty that instead of having Sun, or Solar, or Monty in today's gaming video on Laes, they had Roxanne, someone who is irrelevant to their channels besides being a running gag for teasing Sun. I know that Davis is probably too busy to record with Kat, Reed, and Valentine but I'd rather wait for him to be available for however long it takes than to watch a gaming video with Roxanne in it :/

My only theory as to why the Roxanne Show did this huge collab was because that they have recorded a VR lore collab episode with them as well and they were available.

Which.........

Isn't great.

I don't like their portrayal of Vanny.

That's my woman blorbo and you screwed her up.

Keep her away from me.

Although, I've never been a big fan of their Roxanne portrayal either.

My personal opinion. Take it with a grain of salt.

I thought the Christmas Special was terrible.

youtube

"Did everyone enjoy the Holiday Special?" "No RAGS... only you did." "Oh... well that pretty much my target audience anyway..."

*i watched the whole thing so you don't have to. Honestly, if you have seen the two very short clips of Davis's Sun and Earth/Kat singing, that's all you need. Because they're the only two of this musical that can actually... well... sing.*

The singing made my inner choir kid cringe.... and I just... did not care for the plot.

Roxanne was stressed over the holidays... because of the drama SHE created.... She whined about her estranged on again off again father not liking Christmas, whined when Gregory tried to invite Cassie over, Whined when Gregory was upset and dealing with drama of his only ghost friends potentially leaving the astral plain, Was annoyed when Freddy was trying to be a good boyfriend because she wasn't happy that not EVERYONE was having "the best christmas ever" Cus "Who doesn't like Christmas?" I don't know, Roxanne... people who are busy, people who work retail, people with dead relatives (like Cassie by the way) .... people who don't CELEBrate Christmas???

And I was waiting for the other shoe to drop so much in this special. Because so far, All they've sung about what makes Christmas Great is the Commodification and the Commercialism of Christmas.

That's what makes Christmas great. The cookies, the presents, the colorful lights.....big parties, traditions... etc etc....

Which, come on, I do NOT expect animatronics to get up like the Peanuts Holiday Special and tell me about the Birth of Jesus Christ.

But what I did expect them to do, was talk about the importance of family, and why being with the people you care about is so important... and there was... an attempt at that. But it didn't really land for me.

They didn't even bother to get into how other people celebrate Christmas.

It was all hyping up the commercialism of the Hoilday, and getting excited about that... I understand Gregory, cause he's a literal child... but every single animatronic was either for Christmas or anti Christmas for very commercial reasons.

And what's the crisis.... Roxanne is upset because not everyone likes Christmas and no one is falling into line for her plans for the Holidays... Not everything is about you. Gregory's friends are literally dying and Cassie is mourning her Dad over the holidays.

I thought the special would be about appreciating what you have, even if things don't work out. But no, everything works out and even her estranged father makes up with her for no reason other then because.

Respect for all the voice actors, talent and origination to get the RAGS Christmas Musical together... I just did not care for the plot. And People are free to disagree with me on this... but I found the whole Musical rather shallow and I have seen Hallmark Christmas and Rankinbass Movies with more meat.

I will say.... TSAMS (and MAFS to some extent) did a much better holiday special with far less production... because that's what it's really about, just spending time and exchanging gifts with people who you know care about you. And Earth and Solar experiencing Christmas with others that care about them for the first time and a feeling of warm togetherness and family that wasn't about a big planning or party, while also packing in some of the stressful feeling of the Holidays as well.

And yeah. If Sun was on "Vacation" they could have used this as an opportunity for Solar to be in gaming videos, since Davis himself isn't sick.

We've never seen Solar and Moon play a game together, and I know I'm not the only one asking for it in the official server.

Just involve Solar in more gaming videos. HE ASKED to be in them more. Just DO IT.

#tsams #danachan's asks #danachan's replies #this is so salty #lol I was feeling that salt

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ultravioletwrites · 2 years ago

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There’s something of a stray problem at Steve and Robin’s first place together. It’s fitting, perhaps, that as soon as they move out of Hawkins, away from the kids for the first time, that the universe decides they need a new Party--albeit a furry, four-legged one.

Steve’s gearing up to go home after work when he gets a call from Robin.

“Hey what’s--”

“Steve!” He pulls the phone away from his ears, because jeez Louise, warn a guy would you? “Are you on your way back?”

“Literally pulling out of the parking lot, as we speak,” he drawls.

There’s some shuffling on the other end of line. “And I’m literally herding cats, like the whole horde, and maintenance just showed up,” she hisses.

Shit. He peels out of the community center lot. “Hold them off as long as you can, I’ll be right there.”

It’d started innocently enough, a mangy orange tabby lingering at the doorstep during their first month in their townhouse. They hadn’t even fed the damn thing--Steve was firm on that, despite the pleading look in Robin’s eye--but he made himself at home on their porch nonetheless. He was relentless little thing, yowling and weaving between the legs of anyone who dared enter the house. Robin christened him O’Malley and Steve begrudgingly accepted the little fur ball as a permanent fixture in their lives.

Naming him was a mistake. It was like Robin had sent out a bat signal (cat signal?) to all the feline vagabonds in the area. There was a rotating line up of about six cats total. They sprawled belly up on the porch, roamed in the backyard, or kept watch from the trees.

Steve pulls into an empty spot along the street and watches, both horrified and transfixed, at the spectacle unfolding on his front lawn.

There’s a van in the driveway--Munson Electric--and all six strays have latched onto the maintenance man. He’s whirling around in circles on the grass, cursing up a storm, to no avail. They’re climbing up his navy coveralls, using his legs as a makeshift cat tree. The twins--two scruffy Siamese kittens, are attempting to burrow in his mass of dark, curly hair. The elastic securing the tech’s hair stands no chance and Steve winces when Thelma, the more mischievous twin, pries it free with her claw. O’Malley’s wrapped around the man’s shoulders like an airport neck pillow.

Robin’s trying to entice the kitties with lunch meat--which hey, Steve needs that for his lunches. She shoots Steve a desperate look as he rushes toward them. “Finally! I don’t know what their fucking problem is!” Robin grabs Louise, the other twin, by the scruff only to be met with a menacing hiss as she clings tighter.

Steve manages to pry Cheese, the smallest of them all, off the guy’s bicep. “Someone’s a real pussy magnet, huh?” he says under his breath.

Steve’s met with a withering glare. “Is now really the time?”

Which, yeah it’s definitely not and the guy’s looking vaguely murderous, but he’s also certifiably gorgeous up close. The pinched look on his face does nothing to distract from warm, brown eyes and pouting lips. Steve schools his expression into something more neutral, or tries to. “Sorry, sorry.”

“Why can’t you and your girlfriend be normal and have, like, a million kids or something?” he huffs.

Robin scoffs. “We’re not--”

“She’s not--”

“Can someone,” he shrieks, as Thelma bats a paw at his ear, “just please get them off me?”

It takes a lot a maneuvering and distracting--Robin snatches some gardening gloves from the garage because, damn, claws--but they finally fend off the cats long enough to usher the maintenance guy inside.

He slumps against the wall, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. “Jesus.”

Steve was already a little rank after work--coaching a youth community basketball team will do that to you--but he's damp with a fresh layer of sweat. “‘M showering real quick, I can, uh, grab you a beer for your troubles?” he says quietly.

“Yeah,” the guy wheezes. “Maybe two, fuck.”

The breathy way he chokes out the last word is taking Steve’s brain to all sorts of inappropriate trains of thought, so he nods and flees to his bathroom.

His hair’s still a little damp when he comes downstairs to the kitchen twenty minutes later and, oh. Robin and the maintenance guy look thick as thieves, chumming it up and laughing at something on her phone. And it’s captivating, the sound of his laugh. The broad grin on his face makes something twinge in Steve’s gut.

They both turn to look at Steve and both pairs of eyes have him fumbling for something, anything to say. “All good?” Better than nothing, Steve supposes.

“Eddie’s got it all fixed,” Robin says with a smarmy smile.

“G-great. That’s great, Eddie!” Steve stammers.

Eddie--knowing his name now makes it exponentially worse, likes the way it rolls of his tongue a little too much--straightens up and pins Steve with narrowed eyes and a charming uptick of his lips. “Got some wires crossed, Stevie.”

A blush creeps up the back of his neck. “What?”

Eddie reaches to readjust the sloppy bun atop his head. Don’t look at his arms, don’t look, okay well now you’re looking. Ogling more like. “You’ve got some wires crossed, behind the breaker panel, Steve. I sorted them out for y’all.”

“Right, yes. Thank you, Eddie.” Time to shoo him out the house before Steve burst into flames.

Robin putzes around the kitchen while Eddie packs his things, no doubt wanting to eavesdrop, and Steve remains frozen.

“Have a good one!” Eddie calls on his way out. He slows down next to Steve, lips alarming close to his ear. “Can’t drink on the job, you’ll just have to buy me one this weekend.”

Steve watches him hightail it to the van, narrowly missing another cat ambush. Robin presses into his side. Steve whips around. “What the hell did you say to him, Buckley?”

“Doesn’t matter,” she quips, before tucking something into Steve’s pocket. “I got you his business card. With his personal phone number.”

#mechanic maintenance trade worker eddie has me in a chokehold #this man WILL work with his hands and it WILL put steve into a coma #steddie #steddie ficlet #stranger things #st #my writing #also gratuitous use of the em dash #ITS MY FAVORITE OKAY

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pjisskullourful · 2 years ago

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𝓼𝓽𝓪𝓲𝓷𝓮𝓭 𝓼𝓱𝓮𝓮𝓽𝓼

➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶➴➵➶

🌼Damiano × reader

part 20 of ???? [parts 1-19] NSFW🔥smuttastic smuttery of a perverted degree

° Damiano David/female reader insert ✨ cameo by: Victoria De Angelis wordcount::: 3,897 ° anon request x2 with the corruption kink request that began the series& this request: Damiano and his lady getting down and dirty in front of a mirror and he’s making her watch the whole time. [requests are open!]

“Is your boyfriend on the same planet as us?” Victoria asked.

Damiano had zoned out during the informal group dinner you were currently attending. Tucked away in the corner of the Japanese restaurant, he sat silently, with the screen of his phone illuminating his face. He was oblivious to any of the conversations taking place around him as his concentration went purely to his device.

He was tired and probably over-stimulated after another jam-packed day in Tokyo. Looking across the table at him put you in the mindset of a carer - all you wanted to do was take him to a bed and bring him a cup of chamomile tea. If you looked at him for too long you would begin to crave cuddles.

“No, he’s still with us… kind of…” You told her. “He’s looking up tattoo studios.”

“Of course he is.” She said. “Does it ever bother you how spontaneous he is with all of that? Do you wish he would chill for a second and give you a vote, or whatever? ‘Cause you’ve gotta see them just as much as he does, imagine if you hated one of the designs…”

“Well that hasn’t been an issue yet.”

“He’s lucky he’s got a girlfriend who likes surprises.” She said. “A control freak with that? But that’s why you two are perfect for each other.”

“At the end of the day, they’re just tattoos and if they make him happy, that’s the only thing that really matters to me.” You said. “Literally my only concern is that he’s gonna run out of skin.”

She laughed, having a sip of her beer. “Tell me you don’t have any tattoos without telling me you don’t have any tattoos…”

“Really, did I just out myself?” You asked.

“Pretty much. It’s so addictive that once you start, you stop caring about shit like running out of bodily real estate, you just want another and another and it’s your new favourite hobby.” She said. “And we should stop talking about this before I start trying to find an artist with availability.”

But that wasn’t the end of your discussing tattoos for the night.

After the restaurant, you and Damiano climbed into the van that was bound for return to the hotel. Other members of the entourage joined you in the vehicle. You settled into the backseat with your boyfriend.

“Did you have fun at dinner?” He asked, placing an arm around your shoulders.

“Yeah, I did. I’d ask you the same, but it looked like you were getting into your research again.”

He showed you a sheepish smile, knowing exactly what you were referring to. “I couldn’t help myself, I started looking at flash sheets.” He readjusted in his seat, pulling his phone out of his pocket. “Do you wanna see what I found?”

“Sure.”

He had made some wiggle-room in his schedule for this work trip, finding enough free time to get a new tattoo. He had checked with you first, ensuring you didn’t mind losing out on an hour or two of other activities. You had told him it was fine, not wanting to hold him back from any of his experience of this country.

“There’s kinda a theme, which wasn’t on purpose. I just took screenshots of whatever caught my eye, but…” He said.

The theme was dragons, with the majority of the designs that you swiped through featuring the mythical beasts. There was some variety in the selection he had presented you with, and you looked at a couple of different flower designs, along with a sword, one drawing of a cat, another of a moth, and a rat.

“I know that it’s clichéd to get a dragon tattoo while in Japan. But they’ve just been on my mind lately…” He said.

You smiled as you looked at him. “Oh yeah, you’ve just been thinking about dragons?”

You were feeling proud of yourself after successfully getting him to listen to the audiobook of one of your favourite books - The Girl with the Dragon Tattoo.

This hadn’t been an easy undertaking. You had broken his lifelong streak of never reading a book if he had already seen a movie adaptation. The phrase ‘the book is so much better than the movie’ had never meant anything to him.

He had watched the David Fincher movie with you during an at-home movie night in the early stages of your relationship. It was your pick. You had gotten into the series following the recommendation of your older sister, devouring the three books in high school in an effort to catch up to Petra’s coolness.

You had convinced him that it would be the perfect book to listen to on the flight to Japan and he had thoroughly enjoyed it. He wanted to discuss the major plot points with you. It was decided that he would listen to The Girl Who Played with Fire on the way home, with his eagerness increasing when you had told him it was your favourite of the trilogy.

His arm around your shoulders tightened a little. “I guess they remind me of someone.”

You leaned in closer, closing the distance between the two of you with a kiss. You had forgotten about everyone else in the van, feeling like the only woman in the world as you learned of your boyfriend’s plans to wear a permanent tribute to you. He would have a physical representation of how much he thought of you, your interests and everything that you were.

“Your appointment is booked in?” You asked.

“Yep, Gianna got it confirmed for me.” He said of one of the travelling assistants. “You didn’t tell me which you like best.”

“I think all of the designs are cool…”

He gave you a gentle shake. “Babygirl…”

“Is that the wrong answer?” You asked.

You spent the rest of the drive back to the hotel looking through his selection again. But this time, he told you his favourite features of each dragon and you contributed your opinion.

By the time that you left the van, you had helped him narrow it down to the best two dragons. Hand-in-hand, you made your way to your suite, bidding the others goodnight.

He joined you in front of the bathroom mirror as you wiped away the day’s makeup. “Have you decided what you’re gonna do while I’m at the appointment? Are you gonna go sight-seeing with the others, or will you just stay here and rest up? Or, you could always come with me and watch me squirm while I let my mum down…”

You deposited the dirty face wipe into the trash can. “Well the whole point of this trip was to spend as much time as possible with you…” You turned to face him, draping your arms around his neck. “So I’m gonna make you and your new dragon the top sight to see on my list. You can squeeze my hand through the pain.”

“I’m not worried about the pain.” He said. “But I’ll take any excuse to hold your hand.” You kissed him and he squeezed your body to him. “Come on, strip down, it’s bedtime.”

“Yes, Daddy.”

Under the covers, you cuddled up to him, sharing a few lingering kisses.

“While we’re at the studio, we could check how much time my artist has and if there’s an option, you could get a tattoo as well.” He said, making you laugh out loud.

… … …

The relentless buzzing of the tattoo machines didn’t intimidate or otherwise make you uncomfortable. Dating Damiano meant that this was a noise you were somewhat familiar with.

It didn’t distract you as you flipped through something of a catalogue in the waiting room. As he filled out the consent form, you looked at the many designs compiled into a folder. You looked across the drawings of snakes, stars, anchors and butterflies (and there were plenty of dragons to be spotted, as well).

“Getting any ideas?” He asked as you lingered on a page.

“Oh, come on…” You rolled your eyes.

“Are you really thinking that you’ll have this virgin-skin forever?” He asked, referring to your untattooed body. “I thought you were interested in getting at least one.”

“Yeah, eventually.” You said.

He twisted his body around in his chair so that he could face you. “I don’t know what perfect moment you’re waiting for, but I think this is a great occasion for it. You can get a tattoo to remind you of our first trip to Japan together.”

You forgot about the open book in your lap as you smiled at him. “Our first? What, like, there’s gonna be more?”

“Most definitely, but not while I’m doing the whole Måneskin thing. We’re gonna come strictly for a vacation, just you and me.” He said. “This would be a pretty perfect place for a honeymoon.”

Your eyes grew wide and you were speechless for a moment. He was thinking ahead to a wedding and honeymoon with you?

For a long time, you had viewed you and Damiano as a forever kind of relationship. But to so easily gain this reassurance that he was on the same page as you was worth its weight in gold. You couldn’t help but smile a bit wider at him.

“Yeah, we should come back.” You said.

“So, what’s on this page?” He asked, indicating to how your pointer finger was wedged between two pages, placed there as a makeshift bookmark.

You flipped back to the page of drawings and circled a dragon with your finger. “I like this little guy. I know that you’ve got your design all set and I love your dragon, it’s gonna look amazing. But this caught my eye.” It was the outline of a dragon mid-flight, its wings outstretched on either side of its serpent-like body.

“Get it tattooed.” He said simply. “They said they’ve got time.”

“Damiano…”

He innocently showed you the palms of his hands. “It’s up to you. But let me ask you this- what do you think your high school-self would think of this, would think of you getting a tattoo just like your favourite fictional character of all-time?”

You didn’t roll your eyes at him this time. “She would love it. She would be so excited and think it was the most kick-ass thing ever.”

“Interesting.” He said.

“You’re a terrible influence on me.” You said as he smirked.

“Are you saying that my influence is working?” He asked, eagerly leaning forward.

“I’m saying that you should get me one of those forms before I can talk myself out of this decision.”

He grabbed your face and pulled you in for a kiss. Between your own adrenaline and his enthusiasm, you were filled with a rush that carried you above any worries. Your sense of consequences and reality was dulled in the face of this excitement.

“I’m so proud of you.” He said.

He set everything up - organising that your tattoo would happen first, taking care of the payment and communicating to the artist what you wanted.

As you filled out your own consent form, the sounds of the machines grew far more noticeable. The buzzing became intimidating as you wondered what the Hell you were walking into.

“You’ll hold my hand, right?” You asked as he returned to the chair next to yours.

He grabbed your hand with both of his. “Of course I will. But it’s like anything else in life, it seems way scarier than it actually is.”

“I’m not scared.” You defended, trying not to squirm in your seat. “It’s just a bit daunting.”

“Right, but I know that you can take it.” He said. Quickly, he glanced around to see how far everyone else was from the two of you. When he turned back to you, it was to look deeply into your eyes. “Do you wanna know how I know?”

“How?”

He licked his lips. “Because my baby always does exceptionally well at pain-play.”

Your cheeks turned bright pink. “Dami…”

“It’s true.” He said quietly.

“But this is totally different.” You said, also keeping your voice low.

“Alright.” He said. “But you might find that you like how this feels and that can lead us to so much more.”

… … …

Exhilaration still filled your body as you continued to ride the highs of pride and relief.

The tattoo parlour was hours behind you, but you hadn’t stopped buzzing from the excitement of your impulsive change of mind. You still felt incredible as you and Damiano showered, rinsing clean the fresh tattoos. His design was huge, spanning the entire side of his torso. Your dragon was only about five inches long and easy to hide on the side of your hip.

It was a new part of you and you were absolutely thrilled to have it, the synchronisation with your boyfriend only adding to your infatuation.

His dragon fit in perfectly with his other tattoos. Even though you had watched the whole thing being applied to his skin, you couldn’t help but admire it further. You enjoyed letting your eyes roam the curves of the beast’s body. You had to admit that your boyfriend’s sex appeal was off the charts at the moment.

“How does it feel?” He asked.

“It’s tender, but it’s okay.”

“It might swell a bit overnight, but that’s all normal.” He said.

“How about yours?”

“It’s sore, it’s not exactly comfortable right now.” He said.

“My poor Daddy.” You cooed, tracing the line of his jaw with your fingertips. “Maybe I should distract you?”

He showed you a small smile as you moved in closer. He lowered his arm, done with rinsing his tattoo for the moment. You used your fingers under his chin to guide him in, until he was close enough to kiss.

Loosely, he placed an arm around your waist as the two of you kissed under the consistent stream of water. You felt his body reacting to yours as you teased his mouth open with your tongue. Wanting more, you wrapped your arm around his shoulders. You were paying no attention to the water slipping down your back, instead focusing on how his chest was pressed to yours - enjoying the closeness more with each passing second.

You were licking your lips as he gently pulled back so that he could speak. “We should get out of this shower.”

You had no opposition to this decision. You pushed your damp hair away from your face as he turned the water off. You stepped out of the shower first, but you didn’t get much further than this. You smiled and turned to your side in front of the vanity.

“Ooh, I like this mirror, I can see my tattoo in it.” You said, eagerly giving the design another look over.

He came up behind you, also neglecting to grab a towel. “That’s a nice part of the reflection, but I’m more interested in this…” He completed this sentence by cupping your breast in his hand, making you giggle.

You were guided to face the mirror and the low countertop in front of it. He placed himself directly behind you, skin touching skin as you looked at the reflection of his handsome face. He held your breast firmer, his fingers conforming to its shape.

“Yep, I like this mirror too.” He said. “It lets me see so much of my good girl, my perfect kitty.” Your heart fluttered a little as he leaned down, kissing you on the cheek and lingering here. “This mirror makes sure I can see from your beautiful hair to your delicious lips and those gorgeous tits.” He trailed his fingers down the side of your breast. “To this adorable tummy.” He moved his hand down lower and began to bring it forward. “All the way down to these cute little curls…”

His hand reached its destination: your pubic mound. He allowed his fingers to stretch out and you watched them disappear, reaching beyond the frame of the mirror. The tips of his fingers started to stroke the curly hair here as he pressed more kisses to your cheek. You lifted your eyes up to his face, finding that his eyes were shut as he explored your body in this way. You leaned back against him and were greeted by the feel of his stiffening dick.

He kissed a trail over to your ear, whispering. “I like this mirror so much that I wanna fuck you in front of it. That way I can be such a pervert and watch how well you take this cock from multiple angles. Don’t you think it’s the perfect mirror for that?” His eyes opened, meeting yours in the reflection.

“Whatever my master wants.” You said, your voice was quiet as you surrendered to the urge to submit.

He grinned, kissing you on the cheek a few more times. “I want you to watch too. I wanna see your eyes on me, on this mirror. Can you do that?”

You had never had any kind of intimate experience in front of a mirror before, nor had you ever fantasised about it. The adrenaline beckoned you forward, persistent through the insecurities of maybe seeing something you wouldn’t like. You were too turned on to give the inhibitions much attention, you just nodded your head for him.

“Good girl.”

He moved a hand down to your untattooed hip, holding you here while his other hand went to his cock. In the mirror, you watched as he made some minor adjustments.

At a new angle, he pushed his pelvis into you. And you felt his dick slide in between your thighs. You saw the look of concentration on his face.

You moaned as he began to stuff his cock into you. You watched his mouth open and heard how his breathing came in shallower as he continued to ease forward. A new expression came onto his face as his more primal side took over.

“Don’t you look away.” He coached once he was nestled the whole way in between your walls.

In the reflection, you saw his dark eyes fixed on you. He wrapped his arms around your middle and you arched your back, pushing into him harder.

He held you up, breathing heavily as he started to pump into you. You watched your body bounce with each of his movements as you allowed him to set the rhythm.

“You look as incredible as you feel.” He said, getting faster.

You liked that you didn’t have to twist around uncomfortably and interrupt the flow in order to see him. You could stare straight at him, completely captivated by the lust he could inspire. You savoured the way that you could clearly see the passion on his face - an effort and a determination that only you got to see, no matter how much the world wanted from him.

You leaned forward, grabbing for the counter to brace yourself in the face of his merciless pacing. But you kept your head pushed back, absolutely unwilling to break his rules.

“Oh my God, look at how they bounce.” He said, his eyes on your breasts. “I can’t help it, I’ve gotta…”

He reached both of his hands up, securing a breast in each and giving them some playful squeezes. A shiver raced down your spine. His fingers moved to your nipples, which were very firm. You whined as he pinched and started to toy with the hard peaks. Your muscles tensed and you could feel more sensitivities rushing into your body.

You began to move quicker, ready to meet each of his thrusts as they landed. Your hands grasped the edge of the countertop as your elbows shook.

“Are you still watching?” He asked.

“Yes.” You rasped.

“I can’t get enough. Do you wanna know what I see?” He asked. “I see a perfect pet who is doing such an amazing job of taking this cock that it’s like- it’s almost as if this is what she was made to do.”

“It is, it is. I was made to take your cock, Daddy. Please give it to me, please.”

As he kept rocking into you, you slipped further forward, the strength starting to leave your body.

On his next jolt forward, you felt the head of his dick rub against your g-spot. You gave an elated cry as your pussy walls spasmed and clenched around him.

“Yes.” You said, reaching around to grab his ass. You held on, encouraging his current tempo. “Fuck me like that, just like that, please. Please.”

Your bodies moved together at this impassioned rhythm, working for the mutual goal with unshakeable determination. He moved one hand up to your shoulder, gripping.

“Eyes on me.” He said between heavy breaths.

You opened your eyes again and lifted your head. You could see the fire in his eyes, beneath his brows that were knotted with effort.

Steadily, a change began to take place. His mouth opened, hanging slack as one heavy exhale followed another. His eyes became unfocused and you saw his body twitching in different places. At the same time, you felt his cum shooting into you.

He moaned, his own eyes shutting as he rocked his head back. You kept your hand on his butt, easing him forward as you continued to grind on him.

He gasped and squirmed against you. “You gonna come, kitty?”

“Yes, I’m so close.” You said. “Please, please.”

He snapped his hips into you as you rode out the heightening pleasure. Your whole body was filled with tingles as he massaged the head against your sweet spot.

Your knees buckled as you let go, coming undone in his arms. Your eyes shut as the pleasure took over. You moaned through the climax.

When you opened your eyes, it was to find that the world was still all around you. Your body felt heavy and you sighed now that the giddy heights had been conquered.

In the mirror, you saw that his eyes remained on you. He was smiling, his hand stroking through the drying strands of your hair.

“Let’s go lay down, hm?” He said.

You straightened up, your hand sliding into his as you turned away from the mirror. “Yeah.” You started to leave the bathroom together.

“I love you.” He said.

“I love you too.”

You laid down on the bed, each of you resting your heads on the pillows. Briefly, you wondered how late at night it was.

“How do you feel?” He asked.

“I’m great.” You said, rolling onto your side so that you could face him. “How’s your tattoo?”

“As amazing as that distraction was…” He said, making you smile. “It’s still sore. We should put the aftercare cream on.”

The tube of ointment was retrieved from your handbag. After sanitising your hands, he helped you with applying the cream to your tattoo first. He had advice, making you feel very safe in this, the beginning of your healing process.

He watched as you cautiously massaged the cream onto the tattoo. “It’s so sexy, babygirl.”

You looked up and smiled, getting a rush of pride again. You realised that it was more than just a tattoo. This memento of this trip, this chemistry and connection, this happiness, it would never fade away.

»»————-　♡　————-««

🍑 taglist: @thegeminisgirl - @ha-la-ansia - @icarodamiano - @floral-recs - @gr8rainbowpunk - @idyllicbutterfly - @maneskindiva - @maneslut - @saschenkaaa - @slavicgoddess13 - @elvirabelle - @maneskintifoso - @butkutee - @ursulalurks - @itsmaneskinbitch - @crwnnjules - @paralianeyes - @fand0mskullfa1ry - @lizzylynch1 - @kammerstx - @myleftsock - @tellmesomething01 [join here!]

#maneskin x reader #maneskin fanfiction #maneskin smut #maneskin fic #manesmut #damiano david fic #damiano x reader #dom dami corruption fic #damiano x you #damiano x y/n

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athenaholmesartistsguild · 1 year ago

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Back to the Major Arcana featuring Haruka!

This was an interesting card to work on! I'd watched a video going a bit more in depth on color theory so I tried to work some of the things I learned into this piece!

I didn't want this post to be too long so I have some more design notes on this card's Patreon post. You can read those and download a High res version of this card for free! It was also available 2 days early for Patrons just a quick mention

Interpretations are below the cut:

In the pursuit of understanding the self, the Hermit has elected to remove themselves from their outside world. At this point in the Hermit's life, others' opinions and thoughts are too overpowering and make it difficult to decide what they truly want.

Whether this be metaphorical or literal, the occasional period of self-isolation can be very beneficial, especially if you've felt like you've been doing certain actions that aren't aligned with who you truly are. It's important to note that this isolation period should not last forever. The Hermit is aware that their solitude is not permanent and chooses to make the most of their time.

While alone, the Hermit can focus inward: their thoughts, their desires, and what they believe is right or wrong. Away from the public, the Hermit aims to define who they are. Their values, the direction they wish to take their life, things that only they can decide for themselves.

When the Hermit appears in a reading, they're urging you to consider your recent actions and whether they were what you truly wish you'd done. What pressures are causing you to act a certain way? Do you wish you'd done something differently?

Perhaps a period of withdrawal would be beneficial to finding the answers to these questions.

Reversed, we see a Hermit that's isolating for more harmful reasons. When faced with the outside world, it can sometimes be tempting to disappear into oneself. The unknown is scary and it's human nature to try and avoid it at all costs.

While there may be times when you simply aren't ready to step out of your comfort zone (as doing so can do more harm than good), a reversed Hermit in a reading suggests that maybe it's time to begin the transition back to the outside world. This can be done as gradually as you like, but try to make those decisions based on what feels most aligned to your inner self. Simply asking that part of you for guidance will oftentimes give you the answer you need.

The main theme of the reversed Hermit is someone who's acting in ways that just don't feel right. Whether due to fear or outside pressure or any other myriad of reasons, a reversed Hermit feels like they're not being authentically themselves. Even if they're not conscious of it, there's a nagging feeling in the back of their mind telling them something needs to change.

What actions can you take to feel more like yourself? How do you define yourself in the first place? Are there any voices around you (or within) that are leading you astray?

Haruka's arc in Yakuza 5 is such an interesting one and it's been stuck in my brain ever since I first played it.

For almost her entire section, Haruka's living her life for other people.

She feels pressured to become an idol in the first place because Kiryu informs her that the orphanage is struggling financially. She allows herself to be completely isolated from her family in the hope that she can create a better life for her siblings.

She becomes closer to Mirei and then feels obligated to help her surrogate mother figure relive the glory that was stolen from her. Even after Mirei dies, Haruka feels obligated to join an idol group with the girls that made her life hell during the Princess League.

Through the whole game, there's this theme of following your dreams and doing what you feel is necessary to achieve them, and then you have Haruka.

She insists being an idol is what she really wants, but the whole time it really doesn't seem that way at all. It seems like she's just being shuffled around any way the adults in her life see fit.

Until...

At the very end of the game, she sees Kiryu, the man that raised her for almost a decade of her life, her father, and she can't keep pretending.

She never wanted to be an idol. She never wanted to be so thoroughly separated from her family. She wants to go home.

And here we see the Hermit turn from a reversal to upright. Haruka's isolation from her home taught her that pushing away her desires to live for others is painful and depressing and the exact opposite of how she wants to live her life. She refuses to be a pawn in the Idol industry and in Mirei's own agenda (even if Haruka cared about her).

It's Haruka's turn to figure out what she dreams of and how she'll achieve those dreams.

#I know the events of 6 kinda throw this out the window but I'm just analyzing Haruka's arc in 5 okay??#I love how even with the hamfisted 'dreams' theming in 5 there's this really complex arc exploring the harm pursuing your dreams can cause #if you aren't conscious of how you're treating others along the way.#And then we see what happens if you don't think about your own wants and needs and identity #and just live as a vessel for others to project their own motives onto.#It's so good and interesting and ughhhhh #It's honestly not surprising that after this game 0 was released. RGG Studios was on a roll #Next card is Death (my personal favorite tarot card) so look out for that!#my art #yakuza fanart #sawamura haruka #yakuza #tarot card design

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ruethos · 2 years ago

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I figured I'd ask cause I've been following you for a while and you post transformers every so often, and I'm finally caving and want to check it out. So I'm curious what you might recommend to start at? (Cartoon-specifc)

Oh boy, okay SO this really depends on what exactly you're looking for in a show, so I'm gonna give you a variety to choose from.

The Transformers/G1: It's silly!! A fun Saturday morning cartoon that doesn't take itself too seriously. The Autobots and Decepticons, caught in their millions year long civil war, crash land on Earth and continue their battles. This is just a vehicle for Shenanigans to happen. You WILL get whiplash from how quickly the first episode changes scenes. 3 full seasons total, season 2 is the best one imo. You can watch it for free on Tubi.

Transformers Animated: not AS silly but still light-hearted. A fun cast with some of the best human characters in the franchise and a great overarching plot. Basically throws out the "in disguise" part and makes the bots heroes in futuristic Detroit. Some of my FAVORITE versions of these characters. 3 seasons and SHOULD'VE had a fourth but Hasbro killed it (something of a running theme in the franchise as a whole). You can watch it for free on Tubi.

Transformers Prime: a more serious take on the franchise that still manages to keep some levity. Small teams of Autobots and Decepticons (lead by Optimus Prime and Megatron respectively) continue their civil war in secret on Earth, vying for control of the energy rich planet. Absolutely STELLAR 3D animation and good character designs. A take on Cybertronian culture that has influenced so much of what has come after it. Middle of the pack human characters, /I/ think they're fine but a lot of people don't. 3 seasons and a TV movie, also got cut short. Season 1 is available on Netflix and the rest is for free on Tubi.

Transformers Cyberverse: I love Cyberverse to bits. Poppy art style that’s pleasing to the eye with a good mix of the 3D animation and 2D effects. I was gonna describe the plot until I realized that uh, it changes? Autobots vs Decepticons, except when it isn’t. Really has fun with the setting of Cybertron (once they get there), and is one of the few series that actually go PAST the war. 3 seasons and season 4 was two tv movie specials. Killed too soon. The only down side is that the episodes 15 minutes or so. I love this show so much. You can watch it for free on YouTube.

Transformers Rescue Bots: actually one of the best shows in the franchise and I am being 100% serious. A team of first responder bots have to team up with a family of first responders and keep the island of Griffin Rock safe while posing as highly advanced non-sentient robots. It's the baby show. Completely new cast of characters with some guest appearances from the heavy hitters (Optimus Prime and Bumblebee). The BEST human main and side characters. There's a musical episode. I honestly love this show so so so much please don't let the art style fool you it's SO GOOD. The only series to get 4 seasons and they are WELL. DESERVED. Also it takes place at the same time and in the same continuity as Prime, which will never not be funny to me. Season 1 is on Netflix, seasons 3 and 4 are available for free on The Roku Channel, but I can’t find anywhere to watch season 2. But, well, there are ways around that.

Transformers Beast Wars: listen. LISTEN. This is the best show in the franchise. Bar none. Look past the goofy late 90′s cg animation. Yes its fun to make fun of but eventually you stop paying attention to that because the show is just THAT. GOOD. Two ships, one full of Maximals and the other full of Predacons (the descendants of Autobots and Decepticons, respectively) are sent back in time and crash land on prehistoric Earth. GREAT characters, wonderful story, introduces SO many things that are still used in the series to this day. I love Beast Wars with literally all of my heart. It’s available for free on Tubi.

Honorable Mention: Transformers Earthspark. This is only an honorable mention because season 1 isn’t even finished yet but what we have of it so far is VERY good. Great characters, wonderful animation, great music, and a lot of promise going forward. I’m so excited to see where this is gonna go.

EDIT: I actually forgot to mention, you can watch most of these for free on the Transformers Official youtube!!

EDIT #2: Added proper summaries for all of the shows.

#Kassandra talks like someone's listening #Kassandra answers things #anon this absolutely made my night #I hope one of these is to your liking!!!#The fun thing about Transformers is that there are so many takes on the world and characters #that there's almost guaranteed to be something for everyone #anyways getting this in my inbox really made the rest of work bearable :^)#let me know when you see this!!! Have fun!!!!

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thebrownssociety · 2 years ago

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The Coyote Bites The Dust

Hey! My name's Roxy Goth, this idea came to me when I read a WMG on Wile.E and The Roadrunners Tv Tropes page. I thought it was a brilliant WMG and wanted to make a fanfic about it. So for anyone who's read my other LT story's - this does NOT take place in that universe. Wile.E and Roadrunner are not twins in this fic.

Hope you enjoy. I do not own any Looney Tunes whatsoever.

The coyote was waiting behind a rock clutching an ACME rocket-launcher. As indicated by the name, when activated the rocket should launch out of the package and head straight towards the nearest heat-emitting thing is senses. In this case the roadrunner.

The coyote grinned as he saw the familiar blur of dust in the distance. Perfect timing, he thought as his stomach growled horribly. Perfect timing...

He knelt down and lit the fuse that was sticking out the package ad had a note on it saying 'Keep Dry!'. Once he'd done that he took hold of the steering wheel that was attached to a rope coming out the package and waited.

Exactly two seconds later the rocket launched into action and the coyote thanked ACME it worked. He adjusted his grip on the steering wheel - fingers being looped through the specially designed holes put in it for stability - and licked his lips as he saw the blue bird in his sights. He angled the rocket downwards so he was just above the roadrunner and reached out a hand.

Well. He tried to reach out a hand.

With a terrible sinking feeling, the coyote realised his fingers were stuck in the holes in the steering wheel and he couldn't pull them out. He tried, managing to flip himself up so he had his feet on the wheel and tried to pull himself free, but to no avail. He felt two of his fingers crack and his eyes went wide with pain, a shudder running through his whole body. By now he'd missed the Roadrunner, who had stopped at the edge of the cliff and was looking ahead of him with interest.

With a growing feeling of dread the coyote looked to where the roadrunner was staring, only to see a cliff face. The coyote tried to scream but no sounds would come, so he settled for desperately trying to rip himself free. He felt his wrists break at the exact same moment he hit the cliff and all went black.

xxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxxx

Roadrunner watched the rocket explode and the body hit the floor with the detachment of a soldier. He sighed. Another one hit the dust, almost literally he reflected, seeing the dust cloud coming from the desert sands.

He sped over to the rocket, wincing when he saw the coyote's arms and legs sticking out from under it. No way he'd survived that, but he needed to check and so he carefully pushed the rocket to the side to examine the coyote better. Roadie had to steady himself. Even for him this was bad, the coyote was black as lava and dead as a doornail, and unlike normal toons this couldn't simply be washed off so the toon could carry on.

With a small shake of his head, Roadie knelt down and took a ACME Pulse Oximetre out his hammerspace, attaching it with practiced efficiency to the coyote even though he knew he was already dead. Once it was confirmed Roadie quickly buried the coyote and stuck a ACME headstone just behind the body to mark the spot. It'd be fine, the grave-stones were water-activated and this being a desert there was no water. The only way these were getting activated is if the boss decided to activate them and Roadie couldn't see that happening.

Talking of which, Roadie quickly note down the date, time and invention before heading back. It wasn't long until the soft sands of the desert gave way to the tarmacs of ToonTown. Technically he wasn't meant to run on the roads, but the ToonTown police couldn't catch him anyway, so why bother? As Roadie got closer to the centre of ToonTown he saw the glowing neon sign saying 'ACME' on it and skidded to a stop.

With one swoop he clocked in and swanned down the corridor towards the boss's office. A few other toons saw him and whispered to each other.

'That's Roadrunner, I love him, he's great in the shorts.'

'How much do you think he eats to run that fast?'

'You know he's the boss's right-hand man?"

'Annoy Roadrunner, and suddenly you find yourself fired.'

Roadie bit back a chuckle. He loved the rumours that had been created about him and Wile.E. Talking of-

He got to the boss's door and knocked in a certain pattern that was unique to him and the boss.

"One moment!"

Roadie waited and two seconds later the door was opened by a disappointed looking Wile.E. "That was quick." He said, bluntly.

Roadie smiled. "What can I say? It was a horrible display. The coyote couldn't get his hands out the rocket, so he hit the bucket."

Wile.E groaned and stepped aside, allowing Roadie to come in. "What was wrong with it this time?"

"He couldn't get his fingers out the holes."

"You're kidding me."

"Unfortunately not, it wasn't pretty."

"I can imagine. Let's look at the footage."

So look at the footage they did, with Wile.E making notes and pausing it at times to zoom in and examine things closer.

"That's ridiculous." Wile.E said, once he'd paused it on the image of the coyote flying above the roadrunner and zoomed in. "There's no way that should trap his fingers like that. Roadie, can you pass me the dud?"

The 'dud' was a rocket without a fuse. Made primarily to work on the build of the rocket and handy for moments like this. Wile.E donned a lab-coat and a pair of glasses and looped his fingers through the holes in the same way the coyote had. He tried to remove them and found - not surprisingly - that he couldn't. It didn't take a genius to work out why. "Note to self." He muttered. "Drill bigger holes. This thing is meant to be going out everywhere, if my skinny fingers can't fit through it how can someone like Bugs's?"

Reconising a rhetorical question when he heard one, Roadie patiently waited for instructions. Sure enough...

"Roadie, can you help me out of this thing, please? I actually can't get it off."

Giving a laugh, the bird stepped forward and helped Wile.E remove the rocket. Once it was off he carefully placed it back where he came from before getting a first-aid kit for treating Wile.E's heavily bruised knuckles.

While he was treating them his counterpart sighed. "At least we've got another episode for Warner Bros." He said, glumly.

"Hey." Roadie said. "Trust me, bro, I know how it goes. We'll figure this out, have no doubt, cos you're a genius that much is obvious and if anyone can do it I know it's you."

Wile.E gave a soft smile. "Thanks bro. Means a lot." He cradled his head in his hands. "Better get ready for tomorrow. Here-" The coyote reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a small square. "Can you start at 11 tomorrow? We may need a bit of time to get the flame thrower out."

Roadie nodded. "No issue, anything you want me to review?"

"The flames need to go forward even when the person is travelling at speed. It's hopefully going to be used in some Warner Bro shorts, so it needs to work quickly and be able to be turned of easily. And obviously no singeing the person completely."

"And what do I do if he sets me on fire?"

"Race back here and shower. He'll never catch you, so you'll be safe. Then take the rest of the day off and we'll worry about the incident the next day."

Roadie nodded.

"Here." Wile.E reached into his hammerspace and pulled out a cheque. "This is your bonus. Can't believe you tested the product in 3 hours instead of 4. Congratulations." He said, warmly.

Roadie laughed. He saw the 4-hour limit as a challenge and delighted in beating it, and tomorrow he'd get to do it again.

With a smile Roadie excused himself and left, eager to start the next day.

#looney tunes fanfiction #Wile.E.Coyote #roadrunner #fanfiction

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ixellent · 1 year ago

Text

Highlighting this commentary for two reasons, but firstly to talk about how libraries are a public good and USING THEM is the best thing you can do for them and their patrons:

Go to your public library and look around at who is using the services and which services they're using. Look online at what services your library offers or ask a librarian. Libraries are important because they are one of the only places people can use the internet for free, read anything they want for free, listen to music for free, watch movies for free, learn or be entertained for free, get covid tests for free, or just be in a quiet space (free.)

You can get a digital library card and check out digital books and audiobooks. You don't even have to go into the library.

You can get a regular library card and use the website to pick out stuff you want, have those holds sent to your nearest library, and you go in and pick them up.

The important thing is to check stuff out or in some way indicate it was circulated, even if all you do is let it sit and then return it. Because it means the material is 1) desired and 2) being used. Same thing for all services. Use 'em or lose 'em.

Also wanted to highlight, "If you qualify, you are in need" because a lot of people think they need to be suffering before they get help, like they need to be in dire straits, and by then it may take too long to get assistance. But those programs exist usually because of the taxes we pay here in the US. Which means it's your money in a way lol.

Also, file for unemployment right away when you get laid off or let go or forced to leave or fired, it's YOUR MONEY.

File for Healthcare Marketplace insurance if you lost your insurance for any reason, it's called a "qualifying event" and a bunch of federal programs have them to enable you to get help when you need it. Also ACA insurance makes tax credits available to you if insurance is too expensive. It's literally a check box.

When you get a big hospital bill there's a lot of stuff you can do, with or without insurance! I have a whole post on it but suffice it to say, talk to billing about financial assistance.

Sometimes it will seem like a lot of work, sometimes it will be a lot of work, to access assistance programs. I don't think it should be that way, but for now it helps me feel like I'm getting paid to be on hold.

I think it's important to remember, as a rule of thumb, if you take advantage of a social service, it actually makes it easier for other people who need that service to access it. Most of the time, when these services get cut, it's because politicians will look at usage and say "see, no one is really using this thing, we can afford to trim the budget for food stamps by at least half". Whereas if you decide to step up and use these programs, even if you feel like you "don't really need it", at bare minimum it's another data point advocates can use to say "hey, look, people are using this thing, this is an important service we are providing, do not cut our funding".

#healthcare #health insurance #libraries #library #assistance programs

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x-amount-verbs · 3 years ago

Text

A Helping Hand - Part 23

[start here] || Part 22 || Part 23 || Part 24

[silco x f!reader] [3.7k words] [no y/n] [during timeskip] [touch-starved reader] [henchwoman!reader] [rated M] [hints of gun-related ptsd] [passive aggression] [drunkenness] [hijinks]

AO3 Link

Days seem to pass so much faster when you don’t have your evening meetings with Silco to look forward to dread.

Mornings are hell.

You’re sore all over the second day, but power through, stubbornly. Your nap (in the locker room, this time) feels justified, and Jinx’s eventual appearance makes up for it, pouncing on you with an affectionate hug. Sevika takes your identical message to Silco, even if she shoots you a warning look before doing so. The second floor of the warehouse (once you access it via ladder) is, as Wren told you, full of old reserve storage. Keeping Jinx away from the cans is easier now that they’re established as potential target practice.

Sevika returns from her break from Jinx with no further word from Silco.

The third day, you’re slower than the first, and your ass gets handed to you several times, each time darkening your mood significantly. Wren - notorious for making people practice (albeit in a modified manner) even when they’re not in full working order - actually takes pity and calls you off halfway through, so… that says something. You outright fall asleep in the shower.

Still no reaction from Silco.

The fourth day, you’re renewed, and Efin gets the short end of the stick (quite literally). The kid is absolutely terrified of you by the end of combat practice, and that fear feels good. No wonder Silco likes it.

By the end of the evening, Jinx has motors working for a moving target practice, even if there aren’t any targets clipped to the wire carousel yet.

Sevika informs you, grimacing, that “he called it charming.”

So it’s a war of attrition, then.

—

Day five, you sleep in.

Or, more accurately; you wake up, spend a while watching your clock, and then make the purposeful choice to go back to sleep.

It’s a bit of a thrill, wondering how long it will take for him to do something.

(If you’re at all aware of the problematic nature of your behavior - tempting fate - you don’t acknowledge it.)

That afternoon, you have a whole spread of street food available for Jinx when she shows up, even though Sevika informs you that the kid doesn’t need the food. Jinx’s delighted hums and messy fingers seem to contradict that, but Silco was right; no one in the Undercity should turn down a free meal. So you shrug at Sevika, and offer a skewer of mystery meat when she looks suspicious.

“I can’t take your death wish back to the boss today. And I need to bring the tripping hazard back early.”

You frown. “He told you to do that?”

Her sidelong glance gives you the answer.

Asshole.

Without Sevika to play messenger, you’re left with either finding someone else, or taking the message yourself. And come on, that’s not really a choice, is it?

You scour the gym’s inhabitants and are delighted to find Efin. With a hard enough glare, he agrees to take the note and drop it off with Orid.

If Silco is going to cut your Jinx time short, you’ll shorten his note as well.

NNN

—

Bastard.

Guilt drove you to morning practice (albeit late) on day six, but as afternoon approaches… comes… passes… you’re left stewing.

That absolute bastard.

He took Jinx from you.

Your timepiece reads 3:54, and no Jinx in sight. Theoretically, you can wait to see if she shows, but you have a niggling suspicion that she won’t.

Silco is punishing you. Punishing you, by taking away the one shining thing in your life you regularly look forward to. The one person who greets you with hugs you can eagerly return, who stands too close and you don’t mind it, who tugs on your clothes and invades your space and you only feel affection for it.

Glaring at the clock, you try to stay calm, even if… you’re not.

It’s not fair.

Sure, he’s her dad— or guardian, or whatever— but she’s your friend.

…Okay, that… Look, that’s not as sad as it sounds.

Brows pull together, a frustrated frown as you fend off thoughts about how pathetic your attachment is to this child. Or how pathetic your attempts to act out are. Replace those thoughts with righteous indignation.

You watch the clock another few minutes, foot jiggling impatiently. If you can’t find someone to take your message by 5, you’ll be in trouble. But, as is very apparent, you’re already in trouble.

Chewing your lip, you opt to avoid just a little longer.

Distraction isn’t your friend, which you realize about half a second after the end of the ladder pulls away from the second floor ledge. You drop down, but not fast enough, as the thing comes down right after, falling on top of you. It’s not too bad, though the metal jarring against the back of your thigh is far from pleasant.

No blood, no broken bones, just a reminder not to be an idiot. A nice painful reminder every time you step.

After a second to breathe, you reset the ladder and take your time getting to the half-finished gallery, grimacing.

You have time to reconsider your actions as you set up a row of old cans. Plenty of time to opt out of this particular display of childish frustration. But you don’t feel like it.

You feel like shooting things.

Ear protection on (thanks, Wren), you start shooting.

Honestly… you don’t remember all of it. After the first shot, your mind is jarred into blankness for several more, focused down to the gun in your hand, and the way your pulse strangles you.

You miss. A lot.

More than halfway through your magazine, you stop, breath labored, a dark ring around your vision.

This panic isn’t helping anyone.

Gun down. Give it a second. Try to focus. Don’t think about the assassination attempt, the flash and heat and pain, hitting you hours after the original event. Don’t remember.

Anger helps. Focus on the anger. The spite.

You will get better at this. You’ll be back in perfect firing order, better than before.

No— beyond that. That’s what he wants you to do. That’s one thing that, unfortunately, seems useful.

You know what’s not useful?

(You reload your pistol with shaking fingers, then bring it up in both hands, breath steadying.)

This stupid check in.

Miss.

And asking the same useless questions every time.

Miss.

Telling you to find someone to bring him a message when he knows perfectly well—

Hit.

—that he’ll have the same three answers.

Miss.

Telling you to come in yourself if you can’t find a messenger.

Hit.

Miss.

And taking Jinx away just because you were a little rude.

Hit.

He thought that was rude?

Hit.

You can be so much worse.

Miss.

Hit. Hit.

If he wants your same answer over and over again—

Hit hit.

—you can find a way to get it to him.

Hit hit.

In person.

Click.

You lower the empty weapon, mind made up.

—

4:42, after stopping for a quick change of clothes, you walk through the door of The Last Drop.

You may not be entirely in your right mind— and you don’t intend to be for much longer.

You go straight for the bar, order two glasses of the drink with the greatest alcohol-to-price ratio. Now that you’re medically allowed to drink, you intend to take advantage of that fact to gather a little liquid courage.

Or a lot.

35-ish minutes later, you are definitely feeling some kind of something.

“…You’re sure you want to do this?” the bartender asks.

Things are a little… tight in your head at the moment. Warm. But you resolutely have no regrets as you carefully form the two letters in marker (downgraded from the three you sent him last time).

“Positive,” you mutter, taking a deep breath, face flushed as you place the period at the end of the word. Those two heavy drinks were downed as fast as you could, and now you’re swaying a little.

Juuuust a little.

Just a teeeeeny tiny bit of give, that is entirely negated by propping your arm on the bar (you think).

The woman behind said bar looks down at your cocktail napkin, seemingly torn between amusement and worry. “I’m gonna have to go into hiding after this,” she muses. “Change my name, my face... I’ll be a ghost.”

Very seriously, you raise an even (if foggy) gaze at her. “Chuck. I will always remember you,” you promise. “And your great sacrifice. Fer my death wish.” Oop, you might be slurring a bit.

She scoffs. “I’ll take the message, but I won’t give him bad liquor. This is gonna cost you.”

You snort. “Oh I’m sure.”

“No, like— literally. It’s an expensive shot.”

“So expensive,” you agree. “Like my entire career.” You nod, solemnly. “Risking it all. To send a message.” Nodding, nodding.

This is so important. So stupidly important. You’re gonna fuckin’ show him. He can’t keep ignoring you. You want attention.

Wait. No: you want revenge.

Wait— uh. What do you want, again?

Him.

Right.

—Wait, no, not right!

Your third drink is half finished. You intend to completely forget this evening, if possible, and judging by how swimmy your head is, you’re on track to succeed at that. Load up all the alcohol at once, while on painkillers, and barely any food in your belly. You are on track to be completely wasted by the time you stumble out of here tonight.

You definitely have a goal, even if you’re a little fuzzy on what that goal is. A little fuzzy on everything, actually.

Chuck shakes her head, wonderingly. “Just— give me your purse. I’m leaving a deposit on your tab, in case I never make it back.”

It says more about your level of drunkenness than trust in the bar that you’re willing to hand over the pouch at your waist without question. Usually one to watch your coin, just giving it to her is… something you’ll regret in the morning. She may even realize that, based on her pitying smile.

“Take a seat, sweetheart. Drink some water.”

You shake your head. “Nuh uh. I’m watchin’ this.”

She sighs. “Watch from the booth, then,” she advises, nodding to an open table with a mostly-unimpeded line of sight toward the boss’s office door (aside from some railings). “If you keep at this rate while standing, I think you’re gonna faceplant.”

“Hmmmmm.” You nod sagely, considering her words. Smart. Wise. Good advice.

Personally, you think you remain remarkably poised on your walk to the aforementioned booth. You don’t spill the last ⅓ of your drink, so that probably says something, right?

Once seated, you watch the door. Watch Chuck go up with a tumblr of high-end something-or-other, on your very eloquent ‘NO.’ napkin. He wanted a report. He got a report.

Something in your gut flutters— or maybe flops. Maybe flails about like a fish out of water, violently unsure if you’re excited or terrified by your own boldness.

The drinks say excited. In fact, they say validated and vindicated and justified. You’re practically gleeful to throw that one word in his face, after today.

And maybe you feel a little sick.

Just a little.

Just a little angry and bitter and hurt.

Mostly good, though, that’s what you’re feeling, sure is. Feels good to throw your disobedience in his face. He called you obedient? Ha, not likely. You’re so not that. You’re being soooo bad right now.

Okay maybe water was a good idea, but it’s too late now. Your throat feels dry as Chuck exits the office sans-drink. Sans-napkin. A neutral expression that offers you no insight on Silco’s reaction to your rebellion.

You take another long gulp of your cocktail instead, pulling a face at the undeniable burn of alcohol along with the sweet mixer. Toxic, but effective.

All you can do is watch. And wait. Stewing in a brine of your own choosing. Pickling, even, with the amount of booze in your system.

You wait. And drink. And wait.

Your good mood fades, leaving you frustrated again. Here you are, putting your ass on the line to be a bitch, and he doesn’t even have the decency to be insulted! Fuckin’ basshole. Bastard.

Asshole.

The third drink goes quick, eyes never leaving his door.

What must he be thinking?

You can imagine him, in that silly fitted vest, with his dumb little waist and those stupid arms all corded muscle. Can imagine that superior look he gives you that makes you want to just— to just— makes you wanna kass him. Slap him. That’s the— that’s the word, slap. Yeah.

Cheeks burn as you glare, eyes glazed as your drunk brain casually takes over despite your best efforts.

Hands in his shirt, pushing him into his chair. Hitching your skirt up around your hips to straddle his lap. Giving him a real piece of your ass— mind, a real piece of your mind about his unacceptable bitch behavior. Mouthing off. On. Mouthing on? No, off. Ah, fuck.

The expression on your face is petulant.

It’s been a while since you got drunk with a specific person in mind. You forgot how, uh… Well.

You could ride the shit out of that bastard once he shut up long enough.

Dammit. Your drunk brain is right, but not helpful. It can show all the saucy steamy hot boss action, but that doesn’t help in the here and now, does it?

No. No it doesn’t. Just gives you lots of horrible ideas.

Those ideas are simmering as you sulk and glower, mind churning, focusing on the background functions so much that you don’t even recognize what you’re seeing right away.

However he might’ve been looking at you when he first arrived, by the time your brain processes his appearance, he seems unamused. Not angry, which is a little disappointing, and not entertained, which is good. Just… a subtle frown, which you return (although based on the tiny lift of one brow, you suspect your scowl may not be as intimidating as you’d hoped). (In an effort to correct, your eyes narrow more, 92% sure you have a death scowl going, though it may actually be a pout.) (Regardless, it earns you a flat look that very nearly becomes rolled eyes.)

You finish your drink, maintaining eye contact. (Maybe not the best idea, as the ice all moves at once and hits you in the face.) Silco’s dumb lips purse, and you want to kiss him. Wait no, you want to punch him. However you’re feeling, it annoys you, so you drop your gaze from his face to his hands now spread on the railing as he looks down from his metaphorical high tower. His fingers drum against the rail, and a little shiver hits you, shimmying the discomfort away and trying not to imagine those fingers on your skin.

The next time you look up, his expression is harder to read. Probably thinking about hisself. That guarded, thoughtful look is probably thinking about his stupid fancy clothes or his dumb desk, or shucking the fancy clothes off to fuck on the dumb desk— wait, ugh, no.

You shake your head in frustration to clear the thoughts from your mind, and the motion leaves your head in your hands, still spinning. So dizzy. Ow. Pressing the ice-filled glass to your forehead helps. You haven’t had so few drinks hit you this hard in… oh dear. Well. A while. Uhhh.

A distant memory of the temporary ban on drinking hits, along with the brief clear thought of just because you can doesn’t mean you should, and you wave them off with your prosthetic hand, trying to keep your head still where it is to stop the spinning. Sure, maybe you brought this on yourself, but it’s still his fault. Somehow.

A low voice speaking your name should be enough warning, when sober, to pay attention to the figure whose feet are inches from yours out the side of the booth, but you’re still getting your head straight. Your grunt of affirmation nets you nothing. The next time he says your name, you turn your head just enough to squint one eye at the man.

Oh. Lock.

Recognition makes your head raise and gaze flick back up toward Silco’s office, but he’s disappeared.

“Need you to come with me.”

Shhhhit.

Based on the hulking man’s tired expression, you may have said that aloud.

“I uh— I was gonna um. I was uhhh…” Your brain ticks gears that go nowhere, not a single excuse coming to mind. Not that it would be believable. “Hmm. Right. Yes.”

Your serious stalling nods only serve to make you dizzy again, so you stop, grimacing.

“Are you kicking me out?” you ask, voice notably less confident, though hopefully far from sheepish; there’s still plenty of bravado mixed in with the inevitable dread of being confronted by a massive bouncer.

“Worse,” he mutters. “Upstairs.”

For some reason, you’re thinking that is definitely not worse.

In fact, some not-so-small part of you is practically titillated at the prospect. Whoops.

“Hmmmm.” You try to sound serious and grim, brow furrowed and lips pursed.

Lock lets out the most burdensome sigh you’ve ever heard. Then a grunt. Then, “Get up.”

You manage to make it upstairs with minimal assistance, and you’re proud of that. You’re also not a little grateful that it’s not quite 6pm so the bar is mostly empty, with fewer people to witness both your stumbling and the rather damning fact that you’re being escorted to Silco’s office, drunk.

The door closes behind you, and you try very very hard not to sway as you stand just inside the entrance. A bubbling mess of dread, excitement, shame, anger, and so many bad ideas rolls in your gut.

Oh. He’s not wearing his usual prim waistcoat.

…Nope, no distractions. “You look—” Your mouth closes just in time to stop ‘particularly heinous today’ from spilling out in an act of overcorrected rudeness. Best not to poke him when you’re in such close proximity. Especially when he’s looking at you like that. Chilled anger turning his good eye to ice.

Silco’s thin lips curl in a sneer. “Oh, do continue.” Sarcasm so dry it makes you thirsty. “How do I look, my dear?”

Hot. Wait— nope. Scary? Uh… “You uh. Um.”

“You’re drunk.” The words are flat, inarguable, and yet you’re driven to argue.

“Nuh uh.”

His brow raises, utterly unimpressed. “…You're not drunk.” Oh, he doesn’t believe you. Not even a little bit.

The intoxicated flush somehow feels even hotter than before. “…Nope.”

A single slow blink as he stands from his desk, and begins walking toward you like he has all the time in the world. “So you’re…?”

“Sover.” Not a word. “So— ver…y sober.” Nice.

“Hm.”

“Like a nun.”

Huh. He’s steadily looking less furious, more… well, evil. Eyes flick over you, the sharp line to his lips somewhere between smirk and blade. “A nun.”

“A sexy nun.” Shit- “I mean, a badass uh— a— um—” Your face burns. Frustrated and dizzy and embarrassed. Annoyed. Your brow furrows, eyes shutting tight as you fall back against the door, grumpily. “Shut up, you know what I meant,” you grouse.

That very distinct sardonic flatness to his tone— “I assure you, I do not.” The sound of glass on wood.

“Like a… like a warrior nun or some shit…” you mumble, bringing a hand to your head. Wish you still had that ice.

Eyes closed is nice. Staying still. Just breathing for a second and not trying to move or think.

The scent of spicy sweet cigars and shimmer…You breathe in deep, letting the scent swim in your head. “Mmmmmm...” Smells good.

“How many drinks have you had?” Oh he’s much closer now.

Heavy eyelids half open to look up at him. Barely a foot away. You stare into that hellfire eye and feel it burning you up. “None,” you lie, for sheer spite. A pause, then you choke on a snort. Nun.

The grim line to his smile should be ominous. He moves and you finally notice the glasses in his hands as he holds one out to you. “We’ll make it one, then.”

There’s definitely something devious going on. There’s no hiding the suspicion from your face as you look at the cups. “Nnnno… thanks…”

“Take it.” That’s an order, tone flinty as he presses the glass into your hand.

Shame your brain immediately zips to a completely different interpretation of that command. Hot under the collar, your throat bobs, trying to look casual as you take the glass with your good hand. He doesn’t complain, and for that you’re grateful, because you feel like you’d probably drop anything you tried to hold in your prosthetic hand right now.

“Drink.” Another order.

You look up, feeling your bravado wavering. When he talks like that, it would be very hard to think clearly even if you were sober. Your tiny sip is foul, but you manage to not gag on the stuff, quite proud of the poker face you keep (even if your eyes screw up, nose wrinkles, lips purse— look, the fact that you aren’t sticking your tongue out and trying to wipe it off is a win).

The look he gives you is challenging.

You frown, then take another, longer sip. Gross gross gross.

He drinks from his own glass, never breaking eye contact, and face completely clear of any tells. Obviously he doesn’t hate it. Or maybe he’s drinking something else.

“What is it?” you ask, trying to stay confident.

“Doesn’t matter.” He puts a graceful finger to the bottom of your glass, tipping it toward your mouth again. “I tell you to drink, you drink.”

Oh you hate that. Lips close spitefully, letting liquid overflow the edges and trickle down your chin until he stops pushing and removes his finger from the glass. “No.”

His lips thin, eyes trained on the wet trail down your neck. “‘No?’”

For a second you pause. You wouldn’t take a drink from a stranger, not in a situation like this. You wouldn’t let a stranger give you something you couldn’t verify wasn’t spiked or drugged.

But Silco isn’t a stranger.

What he is, is testing you, you just know it. What, he wants to prove you’re… what, exactly?

Something stirs at the edge of your mind. Something about trust and cynicism and loneliness and loyalty.

For a second, you watch him, foggy brain attempting to interpret the impenetrable gaze he has fixed on you.

Then, without another word - eyes locked with his - you drain your cup.

—

[next part]

[ :) man, can’t wait to drop the preview for the next chapter ahahahahah

Please keep an eye out for tags in the next few chapters! And tag changes on ao3 as well. Speaking of ao3, HH recently hit 100 public bookmarks! :0 Thanks so much to everyone for loving on this fic, and I super duper hope that I don’t disappoint you as I fall into a well of sin 🥺👉👈

As always, please boost the post if you want to help combat the number of links I put on these posts, and if you want to really make my day feel free to add tags or comments 👀 All comments over on ao3 get a reply, too, so…. Pls? If you want to get tagged in future chapters and reverse POVs (there’s an upcoming one regarding this chapter, actually), join the tag list by commenting on this linked post.

This is honestly one of my fave chapters! Props to @insult-2-injury for the cocktail napkin ideas. And we met Chuck! (My headcanon is that this is the Chuck that worked the bar before Theiram, and Jinx refused to learn the new guy’s name after she left.) God I love intoxicated thinking, it’s very fun to write. Let me know what you thought! ❤️ -verbs]

Tag list: @hawk4president @mello-jello29 @jennrosefx @dad-dumpster @ellhd-imagination @zuckerwattencupcake @meep-moop-mystic @of-the-argonath @ariaud @witxhy-lexx @mazikomo @leave-me-alone-doctor @antoine-tte @emprixnix @imalovernotahater @eriseffigy @leorioaki @artificialwords @hehicular-hanslaughter-lecter @ironandglass @ughhhh177 @faraige @ilikemymendarkandfictional @jennithejester @insult-2-injury @iz-zy5 @rinadragomir @queenofspades6 @cuddlejeongin

#silco x reader #silco x f!reader #silco #silco arcane #silco/reader #x-amount-writes #wip:a helping hand #a helping hand #silcoxreader #arcane x reader

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norangeyyy · 3 years ago

Text

Late Night HCs

Bucci Gang Edition

TW: nothing too extreme, just a little bit of hurt/comfort stuff sprinkled right here and there.

Bruno Bucciarati

► Bucciarati typically doesn't stay up late at night, he has work and would squeeze all the amount of sleep he can get on his free time.

► Unless he has a lot of things in mind.

► It doesn't matter whether it's a work-related problem, his past, a random thought, or just generally his worries about his future. It will keep him up.

► He'll definitely need someone to be an outlet but if no one's available, he'll just stare at the night sky and distract himself with the moving clouds or finish some of his work until he's too tired to think of anything.

► If you happen to be in the same situation and same place that night though, then make sure that you take care of the trust he has for you when he was at most vulnerable and he will do same with you.

► I personally headcannon Bucciarati to be the type to like those kind of conversations since i highly doubt that he has been so vulnerable in front of anyone besides Abbachio ever since he joined the mafia.

► And even then, he's mostly the one who lifts the spirits up and not the other way around since he's the leader.

► So expect to hear things and words you wouldn't expect to come from the Bucciarati you see everyday come spilling out of his mouth, it'll be a lot.

► Pat his back or better yet, give him a hug and brush his hair while doing so. He needs it a lot since he hasn't really got one after his family fell apart.

► "I feel so much better now, thank you. I'll make sure not to forget about this night. "

Leone Abbachio

► The night owl of the gang.

► Staying up until 3AM is nothing new to this man, hell, he could even go on a whole day without sleep if he has a lot of things that's bothering him.

► He's the opposite of Bucciarati, he prefers to shoulder his intrusive thoughts alone. It'd take some great amount of effort and trust to make him talk and let it out.

► What he does during those times is either using his stand to replay certain memories that could either worsen his guilt or put him at ease, or just drink until he passes out but most of the time, he does both.

► He could also be listening to some music while he does so but if he's feeling guilty for making Bucciarati concerned about his frequent drinking, then he'll just listen to music and hope that he'll fall asleep and not just keep his eyes closed until the sun rises.

► It works, kind of, but even without alcohol driving him to sleep, he'll always be tired. His sleeping schedule is seriously messed up because he never really cared about it in the first place.

► Would sometimes go out for a walk. Leone is fond of the city's peacefulness when everyone is asleep, with the only thing keeping him accompany is the cold air and the dim light of the lampposts.

► Secretly still has his police uniform and would occasionally take it out just to stare at it or talk to it in a not-so-kind of way as he sees his younger self in it.

► Gets dragged in whatever shit Narancia and the others are up to if he gets spotted. Mostly it's just for a movie night behind Bucciarati's back but Abbachio knows better and expects the unexpected when it comes to the gang.

► Knows what everyone does in late night if they're still up and has seen a lot of ungodly sights.

► Whether it be seeing a sleepy Mista and the pistols chanting a weird prayer to a bowl of cereals or Fugo being dragged out of his room by Narancia, Leone knows it.

Pannacotta Fugo

► Just like Bucciarati, Fugo rarely stays up late at night and if he does, it's usually just because he's busy.

► Fugo has hobbies like painting and reading, everyone in the gang knows that. It's just that he gets carried way too far sometimes and loses track of time.

► Who could blame him though when the book he's reading is just too interesting or the painting he's currently working on is almost done, right?

► On extremely rare occasions where something unpleasant enough to keep Fugo up at night happens, he'll bundle himself in his fluffy blanket like a butterfly in its cocoon.

► He always does this back when he's still living with his parents, it makes him feel safe from anything that's haunting him.

► And if it's neither his hobbies or problems that's keeping him up, he'll just hear Narancia whispering outside his door or Mista throwing pebbles at his window.

► For the first few times the duo did this, Fugo was still able to resist until he just can't anymore knowing that they wouldn't leave him alone all night.

► "Well, this isn't so bad. "

► He says as he enthusiastically tosses a popcorn into his mouth with his eyes glued all over the lit screen of the TV.

► Movie nights, along with sneaking out to go the nearest convenience store, became a common thing between the Torture Dance Trio™ ever since then.

Narancia Ghirga

► The type to wake up in the middle of the night and think "Hmm... Everyone's asleep, let's commit robbery tonight!"

► Fugo's sleep paralysis demon.

► Would literally not hesitate to steal chocolate bars with Mista and probably does 3AM challenges with him too.

► Never runs out of ideas to keep himself up at night and is the one who comes up with everything but what he does still depends on his mood.

► If Narancia's feeling a little too lazy then he'll just sleep and most of the time, with music keeping him accompany. But unlike Abbachio, he purposely doesn't wear headphones just to annoy Fugo whose room is right next to his.

► If he's feeling like it, he'll straight up just invite the others to watch a movie or play videogames even though Bruno has already made it clear not to use the TV after 11PM.

► But just as he likes staying up at night doing crazy things with the boys, he also uses his energy left and free time to self-study, as surprising that may sound.

► He may hate reading but he takes advantage of the fact that his brain is much active at night and he doesn't want to depend on Fugo too much. After all, he dreams on going back to school and he's more than willing to be capable enough to do so alone and pass without the other teen's help.

► Will cuddle anything that's near him while he studies but if you give him a plushie, it'll be instantly his favorite and he would definitely use it as a study buddy.

Guido Mista

► Alright, let's be honest here, this dude wouldn't even stay up if it weren't for his bros.

► 5 seconds lying on the bed and he's already knocked out for a good 10 hours if there's no work he has to do for the day. Make it 8 at weekdays thanks to his mafia-related responsibilities.

► He sleeps like a log so only a combination of shaking him up awake with Fugo and Narancia can make him rise from what seems like a two year coma but is really just a normal tuesday night.

► Will pretty much join Narancia at anything he does but since his last three brain cells are obviously still as half asleep as him, he won't be able to remember that much the next day.

► And once he's out of the room and is already sitting on the couch with the guys, Mista's the type to fall asleep halfway through the movie.

► You can't blame him though, it's 12AM and it seems that Fugo got to choose what movie they'll watch since Narancia already got to choose the other night.

► Unless they're playing videogames or are going out then he won't be acting like a slow ass PVZ zombie with a fried brain. Actually, he'll be hella active if that's the case.

► Active at grabbing every snack each second, that is.

► Actually, it's the pistols who does that but oh well, it's not like Mista's innocent too.

► "I swear it's not me who ate all of our groceries for this month! Right, guys?! It's the pistols! "

► And that, everyone, is how Guido blew their little rendezvous without even trying.

Giorno Giovanna

► There's not much to be said about this boy since just like Mista, Giorno goes to bed early as he makes sure he still gets the proper amount of sleep.

► He already has a lot of things to deal with at day so of course, by the end of it, he'll be exhausted.

► Nights before exams are excluded because although he may seem like he skips class sometimes, Giorno still knows his priorities.

► Only when he became the head of the mafia did he really started to lose sleep as great power comes with great responsibilities.

► It took a LONG time for Giorno to adjust to a lot of things cause come on, he maybe resilient but he's still a 15 year old teen.

► Not only does he have towers after towers of work but i like to imagine that he still continued his education and used some of the things he learns in class in the mafia, specifically in classes like history or geography class since as a boss, he has to know every nook and cranny of Italy.

► Not to mention that emergencies happen and he always has to be ready to give out orders, even if it means being woken up at 1AM.

► God, help this child because all the things mentioned above are just an understatement of what happens on the first few months of being in charge of Passione.

► "So this is why Diavolo looks like he's about to explode whenever something goes wrong huh. "

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valkyrieandstrangeridingaragorn · 2 years ago

Note

But isn't it just that mocking people who are broken by systems rather question the system that breaks then. Mobius supposedly has compassion for Loki but he repeatedly mock and belittles him and calls him a liar and backstabber. But that role was literally forced on him, he had no choice or free will. If Loki choose to be honest with Thor in the beginning he would have been killed. So Mobius really does mock Loki for being bad and not fate for making him that way. And the audience is meant to agree with Mobius? Life can force someone into having no other choice but people still blame them for making the wrong choice

Right, and it's a little more insidious than that.

From what we see in the first movie Odin isn't emotionally available, Loki has a lesser role in the family than his brother and even those who are not part of the royal family disrespect him (the servant laughs at his expense, Heimdall raises his voice at him, the guard takes too long to follow a direct order). We see Loki try to speak to Odin twice and it doesn't go well, not because Loki is not trying but it's Odin the one who refuses to listen and in the vault he tries to lie and gaslight his way out of it instead of having an honest conversation with his son.

So of course Loki has lived his whole life with this and he knows, because he was tried in the past, that telling his father something he refuses to see is not going to achieve anything - so he's forced to do something else. So many fans wonder why Loki never told Odin about Thor not being ready... because he knew he wouldn't listen!

And Mobius, the one who had supposedly watched his entire life prior to meeting him, puts the blame on him for being that way instead of those around him who made him that way, who forced him to look for loopholes and manipulations because they refused to just listen and trust him. They made him.

This is the same as blaming an abuse victim for not being straightforward about their needs because they're used to living with someone who would beat the shit of out them if they ever tried to speak up. The only blame there must be placed on the abuser and the victim needs help and therapy, not more abuse. You can't go to them and tell them it's their fault they don't raise their voice or ask for help... if you do that you're an asshole. That's what they did to Loki.

I'm not sure I like that thing in the series where we're supposed to believe fate is decided for everyone in the multiverse, I think that was HWR being full of himself. I do believe that Loki having been raised in an environment where he wouldn't be listened to, trusted or defended he had to survive somehow and he came up with certain behaviours and coping mechanisms that weren't healthy at all. If Mobius truly cared about him he would have helped him not abused him.

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cinnamonest · 4 years ago

Text

Zhongli (Genshin Impact) - Yandere Profile

This man's voice has a POWER over me I SWEAR

tws: yandere, mentions of n/sfw

tws (under the cut): very ddlg-esque vibes, sorta? infantilization, noncon

I'm sorry I get such strong daddy vibes it unintentionally went in this direction, hope that isn't too bad lmao

I’m working on all the prompts I’ve gotten in! I’ve gotten a few so I’ll be working on those.

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What are they generally like? Lucid, aware? Obsessive? How do they behave?

He's one that might be likely to misunderstand his feelings at first, think that he sees himself as a mentor or maybe even an authority figure, someone to guide you and teach you and serve as a dependable partner to your travels. As time goes on, and he begins to recognize how utterly flustered he gets around you, he's forced to acknowledge the actual feelings he has.

While some yanderes with a slight aloofness or pride to them get worse when in love, such as Childe or Kaeya, his drops completely. You bring out a softer side of him, really, one that's protective and tender and loving, so very loving, wanting to be around you, with you. He's certainly an obsessive, protective type, ultimately allowing his protective nature to get the better of him as he demands to know everything you've done, account for your location at every moment, constantly keep track of your habits, inquire about very personal details of your life. If he realizes you're bothered by it, he might draw back a bit, but he's convinced that that's just your perception, that it's necessary, truly, and not at all unusual.

Pet names. Particularly fond of love, darling, and angel. Sweet things that represent what you mean to him -- something precious, something to represent his adoration and idolization.

The primary form of delusion comes from a perception of you. He's obsessive, and idolizes you to an extent. He perceives you as pure, innocent, angelic. The thing is, this applies regardless of whether or not you actually are. If you are, it will solidify the idea, but even if you're not, he will find a way to see you so, anyway. No matter how wise you are, no, you're naive. No matter how capable you are, no, you're weak and fragile. No matter how experienced you may be, no, you're pure. He can always keep this delusion running by bringing into account age and comparison - you'll never be as strong as him, so you might as well be frail and weak. You'll never have lived as long as him, so really, do you think there's that much difference between you and a child, when compared to someone like himself?

How likely are they to kidnap their darling? How quickly will they do so?

Actually highly likely, and pretty quickly. As he observes you, it becomes very clear to him how very fragile you are, how naive you are, you are quite literally too pure, too angelic, to be living in this world with such beings as humans. Fragile, beautiful little things have a place where they belong - protected. Where do we put fragile, beautiful things? We put them behind glass, behind ropes, in pretty cages, in secluded rooms. It's only natural that you, too, need a similar environment.

He's one of the ones that will... Elegantly kidnap you, as odd as it sounds. He's not a brute that would do something horrendous like knocking you out or drugging you, no, he'll find an excuse for you to come to his abode, invite you in, and you'll walk in none the wiser. Only after your in, and the doors close, does he guide you to your new room, calmly explaining that he's come to the realization that you're too fragile to continue your journey, and ought to simply give up on your travels. He knows you'll be upset at first. Like a child being denied, you'll get pouty, moody, you might cry, you might lash out at him. It's predictable. He'll dry your eyes and calm you down, brushing off any harsh words you may have, holding your wrists in his hands when you try to push him away, softly reassuring you that it will all be alright, that you're safe now, and you'll learn to accept this with time.

How difficult is it to escape from them? How do they keep you restrained? How do they deal with attempted escape?

He would want something... elaborate. He's a man with taste for the most beautiful of things, including yourself, and he won't settle for something as simple as a chain or ropes. No, that would be too simple and brutish, and you, one of the finest things in his life, deserve something equally beautiful and delicate.

He's one of the ones that would go to a great deal of preparation for your arrival. He'd have a room prepared just for you, very ornate, beautifully tailored to you -- the walls your favorite color, the bed made of the same material as your old one, and the whole room completely filled with things you're certain you never even told him you liked. Clothes that fit perfectly to your body. It's frightening how perfect it is, because you know he had to go out of his way to acquire the information to achieve such perfection, but you have no idea how.

Everything about it elegant and detailed, right down to the series of ornate locks on the door. They're some of the sturdiest available, made with essentially unbreakable metal alloys and the most intricate lock systems to date. The windows don't open, and he'd certainly find some way to ensure escape through them isn't an option -- perhaps metal bars, perhaps an unbreakable glass substitute, perhaps merely locating your new home right on the edge of one of Liyue's most beautiful mountains, so that if you were to go out the window you'd plummet to the earth below. He's a bit delusional, but he's not stupid, and he will think through every possibility. Every little detail he needs to keep you safe and confined.

He's certain that, perfect as it is, this room is all you will ever need to be happy. Should you desire anything else, he can bring it to you. You'll never have to leave.

So it goes without saying that it would be exceptionally difficult to escape him. You'd have to find a way through the locks, for which your best bet would be to get some hair pins or tiny writing utensils. Even if you managed it, though, which would frankly be a very difficult feat, you'll have to deal with staying free. Zhongli has ties to the people of Liyue as a whole, and needless to say, he has eyes everywhere. You can't risk appearing in the harbor area, there will be far too many people who would immediately report you, and you'd just be walking right to him anyhow. The surrounding areas also have ties to him, so you'd want to try and reach Mondstadt, as far as it is, which is a difficult travel by foot all alone. You won't get far. He's faster, he's wiser, and he will find you long before you could ever hope to make it there.

However, he's not quite as angry as some yanderes would be about it. He doesn't take your escape personally, no, he blames himself, only calculating his own mistakes as to how it happened. He sees you as something like... a little runaway pet, so naive and dull that you don't know any better than to go wandering off. Or perhaps like a child, just sheepishly curious and wanting to explore, not knowing the dangers of the world. Or, perhaps...

"I haven't been giving you enough attention, have I? That's why you pulled this little act of rebellion... you're hurt by my negligence and wanted to be reassured of my care for you. I'm so sorry... I understand now, love. This was my fault. I've been so caught up with work... I'll delegate some tasks to my workers, and I'll be able to spend more time with you from now on, alright? Don't worry, I'm not angry, I'll take full responsibility. I'll be sure to make it up to you... now, let's go home."

How easy are they to trick, deceive, or manipulate?

Much like Childe or Venti or anyone who has been around as long as he has, you really don't stand a chance. He's an incredibly perceptive man. There's not much to say on the matter, as any attempts will be quickly shut down.

He'd find it amusing, really. Like a child trying to lie, but the evidence is all over their face and hands - it's that obvious to him. It's cute enough that he almost hates having to discipline you for it, but, you have to learn.

How lenient are they? What privileges can you have, and what will you be denied?

He wants his little angel to be safe - and unfortunately, you, being so naive and empty headed, don't always know what's best for you. He knows rules can be hard to follow perfectly, but they're there to keep you safe.

Extremely strict, will want to monitor every moment of your life, every little movement you take, and will insist on watching over you in every task. He'll pick out everything you wear, everything you eat.

Occasionally, if you ask very sweetly, he may take you out for walks in Liyue. Honestly, he'd be lying if he said he didn't enjoy taking you to what he knows are the finest locations, shops with the highest level of craftsmanship, restaurants with a high price tag and reputable food. He enjoys showing off his refined tastes and discerning selective abilities. And honestly? There's a certain... Powerful feeling to knowing you're made aware of the costs when he makes high purchases in front of you... even if you don't realize he's not always actually the one paying for it, or that he forgot mora again but promises the owner to pay later - but he'll make sure you don't know that. You hear the numbers, and your eyebrows raise, your eyes widen. You'd nearly faint if that total was on your responsibility, and he knows that. Which is why he'll simply smile at you, and tell you you're worth every last Mora. He'll buy you nearly anything you may desire. It seems like leniency, but in reality, it's his subtle way of locking control and dependency over you, making you respect him, making you love him.

"Don't worry, love. It's not a lot... Not to me, at least. Even if it were, my angel only deserves the best, no?"

What kind of rules do they have? What kind of punishment would they use?

Oh dear. Again, he's very strict, and wants to monitor everything you do, every little aspect of your life. He decides what you eat, portioning your meals to make sure you're eating enough, he worries about you going hungry during your travels, but luckily you'll never have to worry about that again. If you have a sweet tooth, he'll sigh and worry about your teeth and health, but he'll make sure to account for a little bit of sugar in your day, and will even pick up little treats from some of the most reputable places in Liyue.

He picks out clothes for you with each day. They're not... Normal clothes, per se. Certainly not what you'd normally wear on your travels. And it's not like anyone will see you except him - which is exactly why you'll have clothes he would never want anyone else to see you in. Frilly, lacey things, somehow both highly sexualized but also incredibly infantile, soft pinks, baby blues, gentle off-whites. They accentuate the curves of your body so perfectly, while just barely letting him see the parts of you normally kept hidden.

You'll have a schedule - a bath time, a bedtime, a wake-up time. He's weak to your requests, though, and may let you stay up a little late every now and then, or sleep in just a bit, if you make that soft pouting face and beg. He'll insist on bathing you, dressing you, so that you don't have to - and can't even if you wanted to - lift a finger even to wash yourself or put your clothes on.

He has a set of rules for you, very simple ones he hopes you can easily follow. No trying to leave. No doing anything dangerous. No talking to strangers when you go out. You must hold his hand whenever you're walking together, don't go wandering off.

He'll feel ashamed of the thought for a while, but eventually he'll cave and give into the desire, no, the security precaution, of a nice little collar for you. It's not too embarrassing, no, he went out of his way to find one that was delicate, almost like a necklace, made with fine materials, the engraving only visible up close. If you look closely, though, it clearly bears his name.

Breaking the rules is expected, he anticipates it. You're not the brightest, he might even view it as a mistake. A benefit is that you can easily pass it off as simply forgotten, or an accident. Hence, he's not too harsh - normally. He'll sigh, forgive you, and pat your head, contemplating how to prevent your access in the future.

Perhaps you wriggled out of his hand and ran off while walking? You were just excited, distracted, like a child. He might be able to procure a small leash, one that wouldn't be immediately obvious or embarrassing, to attach to your collar. Perhaps some cuff-like links to latch your arm to his.

You forgot the rule about not handling the kitchen knives and cut yourself? He'll have to get some kind of lock and simply keep them safely away from you. No big deal. Any measures are worth your safety.

If you push the limits, or have a defiant attitude, he might reach the point of punishment. As for not-unwholesome things, this would usually include taking away privileges, such as walks or sweets, but overall, punishment will mostly come in more impure forms.

How do they deal with rivals, or perceived rivals? Will they get rid of them? Will they kill them themselves, or find another way?

Not too much to say here - he has connections. He doesn't need to dirty his own hands. For all his supposed humility, if he truly dislikes someone, they're no more significant than an insect to him. He has no reservations about ridding the world of people who, in his mind, are obviously trying to deceive you, abuse you, corrupt you.

Thankfully, he is very capable of keeping a neutral face, even when he feels laughter building up. It would probably look strange if he were smiling over the newest body to come into his parlor.

How easy is it to make them mad? What does their anger look like?

It's a slow buildup. He views restraint as a virtue, and looks down upon those who lack control over their own tempers. He's a man who strives to meet his own standards of character, and that very much applies to self control and ability to maintain a controlled demeanor, even when he feels a bit of frustration due to you being intentionally and deliberately defiant.

It's his responsibility to be a good role model for you and make sure you understand how to behave. However, in the end, he's very keen on properness and rules. If you have a tendency towards brattiness and pushing your limits, you may drive him to a boiling point.

However, even when expressing his anger, he's remarkably controlled. It's very mature, really. Nonetheless, he will have you shivering and tearful with his voice alone, booming with that depth that reverberates off the walls, that vibrates against your very core. His true anger is one that can strike fear even in the most courageous individuals - he's terrifying when he wants to be, fierce and intimidating, a sort of power just eminates from him.

Nonetheless, it's quick, he calms down very quickly, wipes the tears from your eyes, and sighs.

"I do hate having to be firm with you... but I can't have you thinking you can just act however you want. You understand that, don't you?"

So they see you as above them, beneath them, or equal to them?

Both? It's difficult to describe. You're an angel to him. You're the finest work of art, the most intricate creation, the kind of person whose body and likeness deserves to be preserved in art and tradition, one of those women who should be renowned for beauty even centuries long after you're gone from the earth. It's almost goddess-like. At the same time, there's a beautiful, tragic duality to your essence, he thinks. A fragility and a dependency that leaves you in need, but an inherent status of perfection that makes you deserve the utmost perfect of care. You need to be coddled, cared for, protected, but you deserve it. Like a deity incarnated into a mere fragile human form, a queen that needs support to retain her grace.

Unlike some, he doesn't view his care and protection as some kind of favor that should be repaid with your gratitude, no, really, he is grateful that he is the one who is even deserving of being your caretaker, your provider, your lover.

Even if he is the one who determined that he deserves that role.

How determined are they for you to love them? How hard will they try to make it happen? Or are they content just having you?

He's convinced that he can show you that he is your protector, your lover, that it's fate itself that has locked you together, not just his own will.

And he is, above all else, patient. One of the most patient you could encounter. You think a year is a long time? It's nothing to him. A century for you? More than a lifetime. For him? Nothing. He can and will wait, as long as it takes, and he will never falter in his continual care. He'll remind you frequently, he'll shower you in affection, but if you don't return it? It's not that bad. He has all the time in the world to fix you.

Bonus: Is there anything that makes them unique, in comparison to other yanderes?

Moraless Sugar daddy

But in all seriousness, he is definitely of the gift-giving love language. He sees beautiful things, and beautiful things make him think of you! It's sweet, he thinks. So many little things he sees throughout his day make him think of you, and he has to have all of them, see your face when he gives them to you. He likes making you happy, for one, but he'd be lying if he said there wasn't a sort of satisfactory pride he gets from the power dynamic of it all. He wants to be the sole source of provision in your life, he wants your dependency.

If we're talking prior to the events of the game, it will be even more extreme. He treats it like it's truly nothing, throwing around massive purchases, seemingly as if he's not thinking about it at all. But he is - rest assured, he's taking it into consideration, at least, that is, how it will affect your attitude and perception of him.

General perverseness: how sexual of a person are they? What’s their drive like? How touchy do they get? Do they have any reservations about sexuality?

On the reserved side. He'd never conduct himself improperly in public, of course. It's out of the question. He cares about proper behavior and public image, and he'd never behave in a vulgar manner.

Even in private, he's certainly one of the ones that struggles with a certain guilt. To some degree, he would feel like you're so innocent and pure that he doesn't want to corrupt you. He goes through stages. First, he'll lie to himself, telling himself that the feelings he has for you are simply protective, platonic, a natural sense of responsibility for you. That becomes more and more difficult to convince himself of, the more excited he becomes around you, the more he finds his eyes drawn to whatever bits of skin are exposed on your body, finding himself drifting off to impure thoughts, trying to push them away.

Second, once he's forced to acknowledge the true nature of these feelings, he'll simply practice restraint, something he's rather good at in this area. He tries, he really does. He tells himself he can't do something so impure, that it would violate you, that he should be ashamed of himself for it. It becomes more and more and more difficult to restrain himself with time, the feelings rising and the thoughts become more difficult to push away, eventually entertaining the fantasies in his head in an attempt to rid himself of the urge in real life. It doesn't work, no, it only makes the urges worse, and he can't be around you without his body nearly commanding him to do something. And finally, he'll take a different stance entirely, telling himself that, no, it's not going to corrupt you, rather, it's taking care of you. If he really wants to love you, really wants to care for all of your needs, then surely that would include your physical needs, and therefore, really, it would be wrong of him not to help you.

As that shift in viewpoints goes on, he'll become more and more bold, hands lingering just a little longer, face coming just a little closer. It's a slow build of tension, just waiting to boil over.

How forceful are they? Do they care about your willingness?

He understands you're nervous. Again, no matter how experienced you are, somehow in his head he makes it out to be insignificant. Even if you've had other relationships, he convinces himself - and tries to convince you - that they were inadequate, they didn't care about you, not like he does. And he'll treat it as that -- any resistance you put up is nervousness, nothing more, nothing less. He'll reassure you a million times that you won't feel pain, that he'll be gentle, that you'll feel good, even if his size and strength frankly is rather intimidating regardless of experience. He'll keep cooing in your ear, softly whispering reassurance, softly running hands over your skin, holding you in place as the last inch stretches you apart.

What sort of kinks or fetishes do they have, or would they fill?

Infantilization

Again, no matter how smart, experienced, and capable you may be, you're none of those things to him. You're a fragile, little thing. He has to take care of you at all times. It may not be evident at first, and he himself likely doesn't fully realize it, but there is something highly sexual to this for him. Caring for you puts him in a position of dominance, control. It gives him access to your privacy, dressing you up, fingers running over your skin, bathing you, watching your skin glisten. He'll talk to you in this way, too, often softly, remarking every little way in which you need him, and even condescendingly so. He wants you to be his, not only in a sense of love, but of possession.

Oral

Primarily giving. Even on its own, he loves the taste, but the effect it has on you makes it that much better. He loves anything that forces you to depend on him entirely for pleasure, that puts you at his mercy. And he'll be torturous about it too, restraining your arms and legs so you can't control anything, hold your hips down so you can't roll into him, so that only he can determine exactly how much pressure and speed you get. And he won't rush it, no, he'll go so slowly it's torturous, and telling you very simply that if you want any more, you'll have to beg.

Edging

For a variety of reasons. The power trip is as exhilarating as it is pleasurable, but he also loves watching your body writhe. Each little muscle that moves under the flesh when your arms strain against his hand holding your wrists together, the convulsing of your stomach muscles, the way your toes curl and legs spasm and the sweet little whimpers you make when he draws back just short of your high. He's mastered watching your reactions, knowing exactly when to stop, even if you try to mask it. He'll want you to tell him, though, nonetheless, tell him when you're close, if for nothing else but the sense of you obeying his commands.

Collaring

Similarly to infantilization, it gives him something of a sense of control, of possession. He loves seeing his name engraved on it, marking the whole of your being with his ownership. In his somewhat rare moments of roughness, he'll want to pull on it, use it to draw you towards him, in a moment of your defiance, in particular. If you're being mouthy, whiny, disobedient, and you finally make him snap, especially if you try to walk away from him, he'll yank you back with force, pulling you close to him, and when the force of it shuts you up, changes your demeanor, forces you to acknowledge your submission - the satisfaction he'll get from that is incomparable.

How do they feel about pregnancy or babies? Do they want them?

As much as he likes the idea, to him, you're already like a child, naive and fragile. Could your body even handle a pregnancy, a birth? He'd likely try to avoid it, but in the end, if it happened by accident anyway, rest assured you'd be getting the best care of any woman to ever be pregnant in Teyvat, and he'd do everything in his power to ensure you were always comfortable, taking his caretaking to another level, almost never even letting you get up, insisting you stay still and calm and needy.

What kind of (nsfw) punishments would they use?

He'd be one to pull the "it doesn't hurt you as much as it does me" line, but really, even if he refuses to admit it to his own self, having you bent over his lap is just as much for his own enjoyment as it is a disciplinary measure. It's more humiliating than it is painful -- he'd hold back, afraid of hurting you with his strength, but taking in every little flinch and whimper you make as he brings his hand down on your ass, keeping your head pressed down, kneading at the flesh. He'd insist it's the most effective punishment measure, but you can feel the hard-on digging into your stomach. The worse the behavior, the worse the beating, but every time, after it's over, he'll hold you upright, wiping the tears from your eyes and asking you if you learned you lesson, if you intend to do it again, and smiling when you insist you won't.

What body parts of their darling do they like the most?

Your skin. It's beautiful, and he loves the way that light from the moon and sun look on your naked form. He loves the way your skin feels, soft and delicate, smooth, so paper thin and fragile, and so, so deliciously prone to showing marks from the slightest of harm - a simple smack can make the plump flesh darkened and reddened, the lightest suckling will leave beautiful hickeys all down your neck and chest. There are so many ways to mark his property, to stake a visible claim all over you, it's irresistible.

He also will go out of his way, when picking out all the things he wants you to wear, to find colors that best go with your skin tone, in a contrasting sense - particularly lacey, sheer things that contrast very well, so he can see your soft flesh perfectly defined against the little lace patterns.

#yandere x reader #yandere genshin impact #yandere zhongli #tw: noncon #tw: dark content

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aro-is-gay-af · 4 years ago

Text

The Midnight of Despair | Volturi Kings x fem!reader

As you all can see, I got carried away just a little with this one. It was supposed to be a one-shot, but I'm planning at least part two, since this part got soooo long.

Anyway!

I hope you'll enjoy reading it as much as I enjoyed writing. Sorry for any grammatical errors, as well as any confusion with syntax. English isn't my native but I always try my best! Constructive criticism is always welcomed.

Please, pay attention to the warnings. If you are uncomfortable with any of the topics, simply do not read.

I pictured here Aro from the films (as Michael Sheen is perfect for this part), Caius from the films (maybe a little bit older) and Marcus from the films but his younger self (maybe 20?). Also, I wrote at one point that [Y/N] has blonde hair and blue eyes but it just helped me with the descriptions. Obviously, you can picture characters according to your wishes.

Warnings: Rape (graphic description!), Depression, PTSD, Swear words, Forced Pregnancy

Word count: 7816 (!)

Summary: [Y/N] and Bella are childhood friends. They were always there for each other. [Y/N] had tough times and struggles with everyday life. Bella faces depression after Edward had left her. [Y/N] tries to get her going and alive. One day [Y/N] is raped and gets pregnant with the rapist. Not long after that it turns out that Edward got himself into the mess with Volturi. [Y/N], even traumatized and in pieces, will not let Bella go without her supervision to Italy. What is going to happen when [Y/N] will stay at Volterra? Is she really predestined to be Kings' mate? Is she going to have her baby or abort the pregnancy? Will the trauma go away or is she going to struggle for a long time?

You thought that the death of your parents was enough to break you. As they say, if you’re not willing to bend, you’ll break. And you did. After all.

Ever since you’ve been born, everything went downhill. You were a weak child and within your first five years of life, you’ve gone through countless surgeries. Something was terribly wrong with your spine and the doctors were worried that you wouldn't be able to move normally.

You got your ‘happily ever after’. After fourteen surgeries and taking more than a dozen medications, you could be considered healthy. It made you remember the better part of your childhood. At this point, you couldn’t even recall constant visits at hospital or ingesting enormous amount of drugs.

What you could recall, was the agony that your mom went through while dying of pancreatic cancer. You tried to help her but there was literally no help available. Sure, chemo did help, but only a little tiniest bit. When someone got this type of cancer, there was only one way to die. It was neither pretty, nor pleasant.

So your mother died when you were sixteen. Your father followed shortly after her. He suffered from severe depression after your mother’s passing, but it was the car accident that got him killed. You were just before your graduation.

You’ve finished school and tried to go on. It wasn’t exactly an easy path to follow. You had the feeling that fate had made you its whore and the devil knows his jokes. Somehow, you got through college. You used the money from your dad's insurance policy entirely for your education. It was the only thing you could do to secure your future.

At 22, you got a job at the same hospital where doctor Cullen worked. You were a nurse on the paediatrics ward, but the hospital in Forks was so small that you often found yourself working with doctor Cullen. He was always kind to you and exuded a fatherly warmth. However, like everyone from Cullen family, he was slightly withdrawn from all conversations and social activities.

You noticed a slight change in his behaviour when your best friend, Bella, started dating with the doctor's youngest son, Edward. Carlisle has been talking to you more and more. The conversations weren't long – more like short exchanges of words, whether about his family’s well-being or any leisure activities both of you devoted yourselves after work. Nevertheless, you started calling each other by the others’ given name.

You met with Bella on average once a week. Sure, you were four years older than her, but the age difference never was a problem. You always got along well, and age had nothing to do with it. With time, you've watched Bella thrive during her relationship with Edward and you've enjoyed her happiness. Your relationship had loosened a little, but you didn't hold it against her. With Forks being so small, you could easily meet Bella on the street or in a shop and talk to her about silly things or this boyfriend of hers. It made her blush furiously every time you brought up the topic, especially if Edward waited nearby.

And then, just like that, something snapped. Of course, you heard about their huge quarrel about god knows what, and that Bella wanted to make herself scarce immediately. Charlie called you that night if , by any chance, you could talk some sense into her. Bella not once picked up her phone and then she got her stupid ass into the hospital. And magically reconciled with Edward. That’s when you started to be suspicious. Something wasn’t right about this situation, at all, but you let it be.

Time passed and even though you liked Carlisle as a colleague, you became gradually suspicious about him and his family. Things that you noticed were little, almost insignificant, but something told you that there’s more than meets the eye. Bella herself began to limit contact with you, mainly due to her lack of time for Edward. But when you did get a chance to meet and talk, the subject of Edward still came to the surface.

You tried to understand your friend, while not understanding her at all. You also were in love once but your mother's illness and then your father's death took too much of a toll on you, to experience your first love in such an intense way. It was incomprehensible to you, how Bella could lose her head so much for this boy. And yet you tried, tried to be there when Bella needed you the most. Simply because you were a good friend and also because you needed a friend.

You were left alone, out in this world, with no one to care about and no one to love. Only Bella, as present and, most importantly, alive person, connected you with your childhood and good memories from that time. She was the only one left. You considered her your family and you didn’t want to lose her too. Not after all you’ve been through.

At the day of her birthday, you saw her quickly after her school. You gave her a small gift and you both agreed to meet a day later because Edward's family had invited her to stay at their place. After that birthday, everything changed. The next day Bella went missing. You went to her house exactly as agreed and Charlie said she had been gone for a few hours.

When Bella was found later that evening by Sam, Charlie's colleague, everything became frighteningly clear. The Cullens had moved out of town. Apparently, Carlisle had gotten a lucrative job somewhere else. That didn't surprise you, he was a really great doctor. But how could he not mention a word of it to you? Not that you were so close to him but you considered him a good comrade of yours and moving out of town like this, without a word… It seemed extremely strange to you.

The months that followed were very similar. Bella fell into a deep depression and apathy. You came to visit her, but during these visits it was mainly you who talked. You talked about work, about your next qualification course and about the anniversary of your mum's death. Bella mostly remained silent. Charlie confirmed that, yes, she did go to school, but apart from that, she sat in her room all day and stared at the window.

You knew from Charlie that she was slowly trying to reconnect with her friends. And that she was spending a lot of time with that boy from the reservation. You were happy because it meant that your friend was slowly coming back to life. Maybe not back to normal, not yet, but at least she was trying. And you were trying too. To be a good friend, a good sister to her.

You started talking more during your visits at her house. Unlike before, the subject of Edward didn't exist. It was as if he had never existed. So you did not mention him at all. Bella was healing, slowly, just as you were, when both of your parents died. She was there for you, even if you could only talk to her on the phone because, at that time, she permanently lived with Renee.

For the first time in several months, you hoped that things would somehow work out. In your life, the moments when you were truly happy never lasted long. It was the same this time. One day, you went to Port Angeles to buy new clothes for work. Yours were still from your university days, worn out, but not so long ago you were short of money and preferred to spend it on other things rather than buying new clothes.

By the time you got back to your car it was pretty late. The car park was deserted. On your way to the car, a man accosted you and, before you knew it, he had hit you on the head with something heavy. When you woke up, you were in a squalid alley. The man was pressing you against a wall with all his strength. You only realised what he was going to do, when you felt a cool breeze brush against your bare legs. Your trousers and underwear were almost at your ankles. You started to squirm, trying to free yourself from his iron grip. You heard his quiet giggle next to your ear.

"Don't resist angel, I’ll be quick," he whispered in your ear, pawing at your breasts with his left hand. You felt sick to your stomach. He had hideous breath, as if he had been drinking for three days, then puked and drank again. You started to jerk harder, to pull away, but it only caused you pain. He held tight, pushing against you with his whole body and whispering disgusting things under his breath. When he finally entered you, he tugged hard on your hair. He made no effort to cover your mouth because you didn't even try to scream. You were out of breath, unable to say a word. You were afraid that he would kill you. You wanted him to go away so that the pain would end and you could finally go home.

When he finished, he let you go and just walked away. You stood there, half naked, frozen and shaken, for god knows how long. You were unable to move. When you felt his semen running down your leg, you finally managed to vomit. Your cheek was bruised and scratched from how hard he pressed you against the rough wall. You wanted to go home, but you didn't have the strength to get up from the street.

You weren't sure how much time had passed, but you finally got up. You got dressed and walked to your car. Everything hurt. You didn't want to, but you knew, you had to go to the hospital. You could not leave it like that. He had already hurt you, but what about the others? You couldn't let that happen. All the way to the hospital in Port Angeles your hands were trembling. Returning to that memory, you didn't even remember how you got to the ER.

At the hospital, they took care of you properly. They called the police. Two female doctors were there for a medical examination. The nurses were very nice. You tried to put on a good face. You've thought about how your sexual experiences has been so far. Your first sex, like most people's, was terrible. Your boyfriend was two years older, you were 17 and it all went wrong. You were in pain. He didn't seem too happy either. Up until you graduated from high school, you tried to make it work somehow, but there were never any fireworks. It wasn't until college that you discovered the good side of sex.

However, you never had sex with someone you loved more than life. You haven't met anyone like that. And you were sure that sex with that person would be unique and exceptional. Until now, of course. Lying on a hospital bed, you felt exploited. Abused. Filthy. Humiliated. How can one do something like that to another person? The nurse asked if someone could come and pick you up, and you didn't have much of a choice. You called Bella. While she was on her way to the hospital, you let the police officers question you. You mechanically slurred the words as if it wasn't about you at all. As if it wasn’t you that had been raped.

As soon as you saw Bella, you were no longer able to pretend that nothing had happened. You were sobbing and she hugged you tight, telling you that he would pay for it. You weren't so sure about that. You wanted to be home as soon as possible, so you went back to Forks. Bella said nothing while driving because there was nothing that could be said. In the shower, you scrubbed yourself so hard with the pumice that you thought you had taken off all your skin. To your absolute disgust, you could still feel his touch on you. You could hear him whisper against your ear and you could smell his hideous breath.

A week has passed. Bella texted you every day, and you were able to hang out almost every other day. She was a good sister, a great friend. She didn't want to leave you alone in this. Despite being offered leave, you went to work. You didn't want to keep thinking about what happened. Each time, after taking a bath, you were unable to look in the mirror. On the first day, right after scrubbing, you decided to take a look. You had bruises on your stomach, thighs, buttocks and breasts. Your forearms were scraped, your cheek was scratched and bruised. The worst of it was that you had been bleeding for days. The gynaecologist said, it was due to too much force, and the fact that you actively resisted for a while.

You were trying to get back to normal. You went to work, you were seeing Bella and taking your course. But no one could touch you. You didn't even shake hands to say hello. You didn't care at all, you couldn’t endure a touch anymore. Not in any way. You didn't get your period, but the doctor said it could happen. It was a shock to the body and a lot of pain to bear. Also, you bled for almost a week after the rape.

You started to be afraid to go out alone. When in a shop or at work, if anyone approached you from behind, you started panicking and hyperventilating. You couldn’t walk ordinarily on the street. You looked behind every two or three minutes to assure yourself that nobody was following you. Your hands trembled while driving the car or making the tea. Your eyes were starting to water as soon as someone even tried to touch you. You had nightmares and you started losing your mind because of this.

When your period did not come in the following month, you began to worry. Surely you couldn't get pregnant with this... monster. Not you. Of course you have checked. You would not be able to live in such ignorance. It turned out that yes, you indeed were pregnant. When the doctor confirmed it, you fainted. Not you, not like that. You didn't even think you'd ever be a mum. Let alone like this. You hated your body even more and the fact that it had betrayed you in such a villainous way.

You knew this path led to madness. You were in an even worse mental condition, than after losing your mum; than after dad died in the accident. You have shed countless tears. You didn't want to abort this pregnancy, and at the same time you wanted it with all your heart. If only you were able to defend yourself. Break away from him and run as far away as possible. It would never have happened. But you were weak and didn't even have the energy to scream. Would it have made any difference though?

You were constantly beating yourself up with thoughts about whether you should keep the baby, when something completely bizarre happened. Jacob called you that he had to rescue Bella after jumping off a cliff. Annoyed, you got in your car and drove up to the Swans' house. Bella's car wasn't there, so you waited patiently in yours. When they arrived, you were boiling with rage.

“Have you lost your fucking mind?!” you shouted, as you got out of the car.

Bella rolled her eyes. She looked miserable. Her eyes were bloodshot and she was soaked through. She smiled weakly towards you.

“It was just for fun, you know” she muttered, as you hugged her tightly. It was your first closer contact since…

“It was just for sport,” she tried again.

You snorted in annoyance.

“Yeah, sure, get inside before you get sick.”

As you both stepped onto the porch, Jacob unexpectedly grabbed Bella's wrist. They shared a look.

“Are you sure about this?”

“Yes. You can go now, Jake,” she muttered, trying to disentangle herself from his grasp.

You smiled weakly at him, while Bella was looking for her keys.

“Cool, I'll take care of her until Charlie gets back. Thanks for saving her stupid ass,” you said. Jacob smiled amused, but still seemed slightly tense.

“No problem. Always at your service,” he joked. “Well... See ya around,” he said goodbye and walked away to his car.

You walked into the house with Bella.

“What were you thinking? You could have died” you muttered under your breath, stripping off your jacket.

“Well...actually I wasn't thinking, like, at all” Bella admitted, smiling apologetically at you.

“Next time think about Charlie,” you said, hugging her once more. Your body screamed that you shouldn't do that, but you were glad that Bella was okay.

While Bella changed into dry clothes, you made hot tea for both of you. Someone knocked on the door. The knocking was not from the front, but from the courtyard. You walked slowly to the door and opened it. Edward's sister, Alice, stood in front of you. You wouldn't have known what she looked like, if Bella hadn't shown you pictures of her. But other than that, you knew quite a bit about her, because when Bella was still with Edward, she couldn’t kept her mouth shut about Alice.

“Hi. Can I come in?” she asked politely. She tried to look normal, but there was something in her behaviour that made you nervous. You were about to reply, when Bella appeared in the kitchen.

“Alice!” she squealed, throwing herself around the brunette's neck. After a moment, she pulled away and looked at Alice in disbelief. "Are you really here? Or am I just dreaming this?" asked Bella.

It was your turn to roll the eyes.

“Of course she’s here” you said, now slightly annoyed. “Don’t be bothered by me, please, proceed to whatever you wanted to say.”

Your sarcastic tone was not intended, but justified. You were slowly beginning to get fed up with this family's games. First they move out and turn Bella's life upside down, and now the big comeback? Something's not right here. Besides, at that moment, you weren't the right person to play with. You had enough problems of your own and your life was messed up enough. What you didn't know at that moment, was that everything was about to change fundamentally very soon.

Alice took no notice of you.

"Bella, listen. Edward thinks you committed suicide. He told me that he doesn't want to live either, so he is on his way to the Volturi to ask them for an execution."

You had no idea what she was talking about. Bella was terrified, and you didn't know what was going on here.

"What, who the fuck are Volturi? Did Edward get involved with some cult? Also, how did he know Bella killed herself?" you asked, not understanding anything of what Alice was talking about earlier.

"We have to go to Italy, Bella,” she ignored you once more. “If they refuse him, I'm not sure what he'll do" as Alice spoke, Bella began to gather herself quickly to leave.

You grabbed her hand.

"And where do you think you are going?" you asked in disbelief. Bella looked at you apologetically.

"Y/N, I have to go. They're going to murder him. Just the fact that I'm alive will convince him."

You snorted in disbelief.

"You're dead serious? And can't you call him and tell him it's a misunderstanding? Besides, Bella, this guy ghosted you. He left you here, alone, with not one explanation and you want to fly to the other side of the world to save this dumb ass?" you asked, trying to take your mind off this ludicrous circumstance.

“Oh my god, we’ll take her with us if she’s not going to back down” said Alice in exasperation.

“And to your kind information, I won't back down. Your douchebag brother and the rest of your family turned her adrift. I was the one who pulled her out of her depression, and I will not let the exact same thing happen again because of any of you,”you hissed out in anger. You saw something in Alice's eyes that you considered to be admiration.

You looked at Bella expectantly.

“Y/N, I still love him. I cannot let this go” Bella whispered and you felt as your chest tightened. “Please…”

You heaved a heavy sigh.

“Okey, but I’m coming with you,” you decided and noticed that Alice's eyes were momentarily clouded with mist. You had no idea what was going on here, but you were sure that this whole affair with the Volturi, whoever the hell they were, didn't sound good.

After a few seconds, Alice looked at Bella, then at you and back at Bella.

“Get your coats, we have to go now,” she said.

“But Alice...” protested Bella.

“There's no time for that. We'll explain everything to her on the way. If we start now, we won't get out of here until noon” she muttered exasperatedly, walking out of the house. You looked at Bella.

“Bells, what's this all about?” you asked, and she just sighed quietly. You both quickly got your shoes on.

“We'll tell you on the plane but I'm afraid the Volturi won't like that a lot,” she said with worried expression on her face.

When you were at the airport waiting for a plane, you had countless questions in your head. Why the fuck Edward was pulling such nonsense? Why to be so dramatic about thing that didn’t even happen? Did this idiot really get involved in some sort of cult? And why was his sister so concerned about it that she decided to tell you ‘everything’, whatever needed to be said? However, the question that kept you wondering was who were the mysterious Volturi and what could they possibly resent about you?

One thing you were sure of. There hadn't been a moment since the sexual assault when you hadn't thought about it. And now your thoughts were occupied by the mysterious Volturi and you immensely wanted to find out what it was really all about.

⋎⋎⋎

On a plane ride, you found out that vampires are no fairy tales and your best friend was in love with one. It was a wild thought but, as soon as Alice started taking, you knew it wasn’t a joke. You were given so much information at once that you were unable to respond to anything as Alice finished her long monologue. You had a drink of water, although at that moment you very much regretted not being able to drink whisky.

“Okey, lets say I get most of this…” you said with a low voice, trying to be careful with what you’re saying. “But can you tell me who are Volturi and why would they want to decapitate Edward?” you asked, looking sideways, afraid that someone might hear.

Alice let out a sigh.

“The Volturi are the equivalent of the justice system in our world. They are the ones who created the laws that help us hide from the world, and they are the ones who enforce them. They consider themselves… sort of royalty, as their leaders – Aro, Caius and Marcus – are over three thousand years old.”

If you were to be honest, you were not very good at processing this information. Three thousand years? The first thought that popped into your mind was that they must be immensely lonely. You were sure you wouldn't want to live so many years without having anyone worthy by your side. Later, Alice quickly summarised all the laws that every vampire must obey. They weren't complicated, but when you thought about it a little longer, some of them weren't so easy to follow.

“I don't want to whine, or come off as ungrateful or anything like that, but... didn't you just break the law? By telling me about you?” you asked cautiously, not knowing if what you were saying was right.

Alice sighed again, this time heavier than before.

“It’s complicated” she said succinctly, which interested Bella, who was eating some kind of sandwich.

“This vision of yours was about [Y/N]?” she asked Alice curiously. Alice merely nodded. When Alice told you about her gift, and this was at the very beginning of the story, you found it hard to believe. It wasn’t so unbelievable now.

"Eat something," Alice said to you. "It's good for the baby" she added after a moment, seeing you hesitate. You swallowed heavily, as you suddenly felt sick. The memories of that evening came back.

Alice smiled softly, as if knowing exactly what you were thinking about. And this was supposed to be Edward's gift.

"Do you want to know the sex of the baby?" she asked, and your eyes almost fell out.

"Can you predict that?" you asked in disbelief. She and Bella both smiled. Alice nodded vigorously.

"Yeah, sure. I can't predict if the baby... you know, if it will be born, however, the sex I can tell you.”

You pondered on it, while eating your sandwich. The nausea eased, when you could think of something different than that unlucky evening. Before you knew it, you fell asleep and Alice woke you up when you landed in Italy. As Alice drove the stolen car, you tried to admire the beautiful views of Tuscany outside your window. When you had almost reached Volterra, you thought how wonderful it would be to live here.

⋎⋎⋎

This stupid boyfriend of hers. That was all his fault. Of course, Bella made it at the last minute. You, together with Alice, went to abandon the stolen car somewhere. Although, you had a feeling that you would be returning the exact same way. You tried to reassure yourself. Of course you’ll be returning. Or maybe not? If you were honest, you gave no fucks about it. You had no one who’d wait for you at home, your parents died, you were brutally raped not so long ago, and you didn’t even know if you wanted to keep the baby. Maybe dying today isn’t such a bad idea?

You have reached the square and entered the palace at a very convenient time. The guy who looked like a wardrobe and the other one, much shorter than him and blonde, looked like they were about to murder Edward in this instant. And actually, you felt like you could’ve murdered Edward too. Barely Alice closed the door, you didn't even glance at the two of them, but immediately began to scold Edward for what he had done. To hell with his gift!

“You stupid, immature, irresponsible, reckless and selfish bastard!” you started descriptively, and even Bella was taken aback by your behaviour. Alice raised her eyebrows and two other vampires looked at themselves and then straight at you. Edward had no time for any reply. “If you ever, I repeat, if you ever again do something as childish and irresponsible as expose my best friend to a nervous breakdown and months of depression, I promise you, here and now, that I will decapitate you myself. You're old, and yet a five-year-old child is smarter than you. You utter imbecile,” you hissed with hatred.

Of course, your malice towards him was temporary, but it's been a long time since anyone has angered you like that. The shorter man laughed under his breath, and the other one, who looked like a wardrobe, said:

“Can we keep her? I like the way she’s ruling the roost.”

He fell silent, as a short, pretty blonde woman entered the room. Her face was like a child's, but her eyes... bright red, staring at no one else but you.

“Jane” greeted her Edward. She didn’t even look at him.

“Aro sent me to see what was taking so long” she said. The atmosphere immediately became tense. Edward and Alice seemed to stiffen at the sound of Aro's name. You were curious but not frightened. Not yet.

Jane turned and immediately started walking towards the long corridor. Bella just looked at Edward, and you glanced at Alice.

“Do what she says,” she muttered to you and you both kept pace with the couple in the front.

Needless to say, it was the most stressful and also the most terrifying lift ride you've ever experienced. Not to add the creepy music background. You guessed it was supposed to make you feel better, but instead it made your whole stomach go up to your throat. You were standing right in the middle, next to Bella, holding Alice's hand. The vampire, who looked like a wardrobe, kept looking at you. You took a deep breath to calm your nerves. Puking on someone's shoes isn't going to make this situation any better. Out of the corner of your eye, you saw Edward smile. Yeah, the situation you’ve found yourself in was extremely funny indeed.

When you reached the main chamber, you didn't know what to look at first. At the vampires standing against every wall? Not very wise of you. At the marble floor? Nothing to be afraid of for now, so no. You probably should have looked at the three thrones in front of you and the vampires that sat on them, but instead, you were interested in the Latin phrase engraved between the columns above you.

You glanced at your company. Edward looked as if he was about to die. Maybe that's what's going to happen? Alice looked very out of sorts, and Bella, well, she was hanging onto Edward's arm and also looked like she was about to leave this world for good. She was unnaturally pale and you though she was going to faint any second. But it never happened. The rest of the room felt extremely comfortable. For a moment, you turned your head towards the boy who called out to Jane. You did not let go of Alice's hand but you did not feel any anxiety. Curiosity prevailed, mainly because you had come to terms with the fact of your imminent death.

“Sister! Sent you out to get one and you bring back two. And two halves,” the boy who’s just called Jane his sister probably was talking about me and Bella. “Such a clever girl,” he praised her like he wasn’t his sister but someone else entirely. You sighed heavily. Maybe they’re also into incest-kind-of-relationships? Who knows. You looked above your head again. There was a short inscription “vita brevis, ars longa” but you knew the rest of it. Latin was obligatory in every medical school.

When the man from the middle throne stood up, it was to him that you directed all your attention. You felt that something about him was... you had no idea how to describe it, but you felt a strange pull towards him. As if some invisible force had power over you.

“What a happy surprise!” he said pointedly, wide smile on his face. “Bella is alive after all. Isn’t that wonderful?” he said cheerfully, while walking towards Edward. At that exact moment, you realised that you had managed to get yourself into a huge mess. The lair of the vampires. And you were only a weak human. Recently raped. With a baby under your heart.

As soon as the man stepped down from the platform, you were unable to take your eyes off him. His posture, the way he spoke, his demeanour, it all made you feel incredible respect for him. You’ve never felt this secure and calm in your entire life.

“I love a happy ending,” the man said, while he took Edwards’ hand into his. “They’re so rare.”

You were wondering why this man took Edward’s hand in the first place. You did not have to wait long for an explanation.

“Aro can read every thought that I’ve ever had. With one touch” Edward explained to Bella but you were listening too. Very carefully listening. You’ve finally managed to know the name of the vampire. Aro. It suited him well. Although his eyes were a little scary, you were delighted with his charisma and approach to guests. You realised that indeed, they are called the royal family for a reason.

Aro smiled to Edward.

“Her blood appears to you so much,” he whispered, and you had a hard time hearing his words well. Aro’s gaze rested on Bella. “It makes me thirsty. How can you stand to be so close to her?” he asked Edward, who was feeling more and more uncomfortable. You could tell by the fact that he was practically standing like a statue.

“It is not without difficulty,” muttered Edward from behind his clenched teeth.

You swallowed hard, as Aro turned his gaze to Bella again but he smiled.

“Ah, I can see that” he said pleased, moving away from Edward and focusing all his attention on Bella.

“Although you’re a quite soul-reader yourself, Edward, you cannot read Bella’s thoughts” he made a rather dramatic pause, still staring stubbornly at your best friend. “Fascinating” he said, not hiding his curiosity.

You managed to look elsewhere, than at Aro. The man on the throne to your left seemed unusually agitated. He fixed his gaze on you, as if his life depended on it, yet you did not feel uncomfortable. You were surprised to discover that an invisible force was also drawing you towards him. You almost took a step forward. You tried to remember the man from a few minutes ago. He looked as if he had died in that chair a few centuries ago. And now he seemed genuinely moved.

“Brother” the man spoke to Aro, as he got up from his throne. Indeed, there seemed to be an urgency to the matter, for Aro turned around in surprise. You had the impression that the man from the throne had not risen from it for a long time.

“You knew about this, and you brought her anyway?” you heard Edward's quiet whisper, directed at Alice.

Alice looked at her brother, then at you and finally at a curious Aro.

"It would have happened anyway. Better sooner than later" Alice murmured mysteriously. You still didn't know what it was even about. The third man, the one on your right, did not share his brothers' patience.

"Aro, let's hurry this up, Heidi will be here soon, and we don't want to frighten our guests" he said ominously, grinning like a madman. You were far from solving this riddle, but as soon as you looked at him, you felt the same attraction and enigmatic pulling as towards the other two.

Aro took his brother's hand in his own and you could see that his eyes would have lit up with happiness if they could.

“Ah, my dear Marcus! What an exceptional news!” intoned Aro cheerfully, heading towards you. He was slow in his movements, exactly so that you would not be frightened by him. All his movements were framed by an incredible grace.

“My dear, if I may, what is your name?” he asked, coming closer to you. You were unable to take your eyes off him. It was exactly, as if he had hypnotised you, only the feeling was more addictive. You didn't have to have a gift or to be a vampire to know that. For a split second, you ran out of breath and just stared into his red irises.

“My name is [Y/N]” you said, with your voice trembling, as your throat tightened hard under the intense emotions. You couldn't believe it was really happening. Maybe it was just a dream? Maybe these three beautiful men are just a figment of your imagination? You didn't even want to think about the fact that it might not be true.

Aro smiled encouragingly, while looking at you with all the attention that he’d possibly give you. You felt like nothing more was more important than you to him at that exact moment.

"It is an incredible pleasure to meet you, [Y/N]. I am Aro, but you already know that.”

The smile never left his face and during this brief exchange of words, neither of you took your eyes off the other. You felt that the atmosphere in the room had changed. Aro extended his alabaster hand in an inviting gesture.

“May I, my dear?” he asked you politely.

You gulped. Of course, you wanted to show him that you didn't want to give away their secret. You wanted to show him the strange bond you felt towards him and his brothers. However, there were things you didn't want him to see. You felt deep down inside that this attraction had an explanation and you didn't want him to see... Not that. You’d felt exposed and extremely embarrassed. There was also another issue. His hand. You'd hugged Bella twice since it happened and just now you were holding Alice's hand. You didn't know if, when you touched him, you'd start screaming or crying because you were so afraid of someone else's touch.

Yet, his hand looked so inviting, almost familiar, as if you'd already had the chance to touch it before. Aro himself showed no impatience. He waited, still gazing into your blue irises with his crimson eyes. You extended your hand towards him, at first cautiously, and then with a little more confidence. You took a deep breath, before your fingers made contact. When it happened, you felt as if you had come home after many years of wandering. He closed your hand in his, just as he had done with Edward's. His skin was cold, but he handled you extremely gently. You stared into his eyes as he looked at your thoughts and memories of your whole life. You knew instantly when he was done because he smiled sadly at you. He squeezed your hand gently in his.

"Never again, my love. Never again," he assured passionately, and then he leaned down to place a kiss on your hand. It was so light and as gentle as a breeze on a summer day. You couldn't help but smile.

Aro clapped his hands. He was clearly pleased with what had just happened between you.

"Aro, will you explain to me what's going on? I'm sick of waiting," said the nervous brother, who was the only one with blond hair. Aro smiled widely and turned towards him.

"Ah, Caius, you'll never guess. Finally, after so many years, our mate has honoured us with her presence" he said overjoyed and Caius frowned in awe. You were already able to tell that this did not happen often. Marcus, on the other hand, was sitting on his throne, smiling, still looking in your direction. You didn't miss the glances of the other vampires either. Was it some sort of celebration when Marcus was smiling?

“What does that mean?” it was Bella who snapped that question. Aro immediately appeared by her side. He gently stroked her hair, pulling an unruly strand behind her ear. You felt the sting of jealousy, when he touched her face. You should be the one asking that question and not her.

“Ah, and dear Isabella. What to do with you,” he wondered aloud, as if asking others for advice. “As I have far more important matters to deal with....” he began, looking directly at you. “I’d love to see if you’re an exception to my gift as well,” he whispered to Bella, extending his hand towards her. She didn't have much choice, did she? She took his hand, a little hesitantly, but after a short while Aro moved away.

“Interesting” he muttered. “I see nothing.”

“You already know what you’ll do with her, Aro” said Marcus, his eyes never leaving your person. “Just do it, as we want to know our little angel a bit more.”

You looked at Bella for a moment. She was terrified, not only with her own case, but also with yours. You have already guessed that you are not going anywhere. They would never let you out of their hands. Aro knew perfectly well that you didn't even have anything to go back to. Of course, you had plenty of questions, but you were sure it wasn't about your case now. Just about Bella's situation and what the Cullens had done, or rather what they hadn't done. However, you guessed it, Bella was afraid you wouldn't get out of here alive, and at the same time, you were worried about the exact same thing but about her.

Aro was smiling continuously.

“I have an idea” he said, after a long while. He approached Alice this time. “Would you be so kind, dear, and show me if you saw Bella's transformation in your vision?”

You were smart enough to know that it wasn’t a request. Alice undid her glove and boldly gave Aro her hand. He was absent for a moment and then smiled again. You were impressed by the aura he spread around himself. When he smiled, you felt like smiling too. You still had the impression that it was only a dream, and simultaneously you were sure that it was really happening. Aro's touch was definitely real, you couldn’t forget his cool hands embracing your own.

“Ah, lovely. I know everything now,” he declared. You and Bella probably looked similarly confused, but you weren't the least bit concerned and she was as pale as a sheet.

Aro turned directly to Edward.

“As I have seen Isabella's transformation in Alice's vision, I can let you go with peace of mind, my dear young friends. I trust that a date will be set sooner, rather than later and that I will be able to see for myself, what your mate will be capable of, Edward. As for you, Isabella, you are promising immortal material and I hope your potential will not go to waste," he said, this time speaking directly to Bella.

She was still brave enough to look him in the eye.

“And what with [Y/N]? You never mentioned what will happen to her” she noticed, looking in your direction. You smiled gently to her.

“I’m staying here, Bella” you said calmly, trying to reassure her with your tone of voice that all shall be all right.

You saw pure admiration and joyousness on Aro’s face as you said that.

“Isn’t she remarkable, brothers?” he asked Marcus and Caius, who looked as if they had just received the most beautiful Christmas present.

Bella seemed to be thoroughly outrageous.

“You can’t be serious [Y/N]! You cannot stay here, please, come back with us. You cannot be here while you’re pregnant” she cried, holding your hand and looking at you with disbelief.

What she said made you very uncomfortable and extremely upset.

"Bella, I have nothing to go back to. My parents are dead. You knew that if Alice told me everything, it would have to be resolved somehow," you stated matter-of-factly, squeezing her hand in yours. "I can't go back there, Bells." Your throat tightened with despair as memories of recent events flooded inside your mind. You tried to hold back tears.

"I am a shadow of my former self. I'm afraid to leave the house alone to go shopping or to work. This paranoia is overwhelming me, Bella. I keep turning behind me to see if anyone is following me on the street. I cry at night, knowing that it doesn't change anything. And then there's this unfortunate baby," you sighed helplessly, trying not to burst with tears. "Even if I keep it, I don't want it to have a mother who's afraid to leave the house. I can't live like this, we both know that" you whispered, squeezing her hands in yours again.

“But you cannot possibly be mated with all three of them” Bella whispered with despair in her eyes. You only smiled, sensing that this sentence got on Kings’ nerves, especially Caius’s.

“I think it’s predestined, Bella. Just as you are destined to be with Edward, I do belong here, with my mates” you said cautiously, glancing at Aro and looking for approval in his eyes. He was only looking at you with delight, as he said nothing.

You saw that Bella had hard time processing such information, whilst Edward and Alice said nothing at all. You knew that Alice knew prior about this, and Edward could see the vision in her thoughts. You pulled Bella into a comfortable hug.

“Hey, sister, we don’t see each other the very last time. We’ll meet again. Probably in a different…condition but still.”

Bella looked devastated.

“You promise me that?” she asked warily, her tone full of hope. You smiled at her.

“Of course I do.” You kissed her cheek and caressed her long, brown hair. “We can call each other, you know. It’s not like I’m moving to the Moon,” you joked, to release the tension a bit. To your astonishment, everybody in the room laughed at that. It made you blush, just a little tiny bit.

After another farewell, in which this time you also included Alice and Edward (barely, because you were still mad at him) and an official farewell from Aro, who told them to give his friend kind regards from him, the guests left the chamber.

They left, and Aro was immediately by your side. He gently stroked your long blonde hair, but didn't touch a single piece of a skin. After the display of your memories, he probably knew very well that you did not wish any touch for the time being.

You still couldn't free yourself from under his spell and if you were to be honest, you didn't want to at all. Aro offered you his arm.

"I believe, we have much to discuss, my love."

You took his arm gratefully.

"I have a ton of questions," you admitted as you walked out of the chamber with Marcus and Caius slowly following you. You didn't need to look back, the strange bonds that drew you together informed you of their presence in a yet unknown way.

Aro, as usual, smiled magnificently.

"My dear, one thing at a time," he said in a gentle tone, as he patted your forearm with tenderness. When you entered the study with the round table, Aro immediately pushed back a chair for you.

"No one is to disturb us" you heard Caius' sharp tone as he closed the door behind you. You tried to feel comfortable and at ease. After all, this was your home from now on.

Part 2 | Part 3

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lovelybarnes · 4 years ago

Text

god- l. laufeyson (part 2)

pairings: loki laufeyson x reader, platonic!tony stark x reader, mentions of nick fury warnings: language and minor angst about: part 2 to god a/n: i apologize for taking so long to post it, i was having trouble coming up with the little details and honestly just writing overall but it’s up!! and another bucky fic will be up tomorrow or saturday!!

loki is suspicious after you leave. in the- admittedly short- time he’s been shoved away and locked in a cage to rot, he had seen you all of two times, and he was enthralled. flabbergasted, too, surprised that a simple mortal managed to stay hidden in the deep parts of his brain and refuse to leave. you were… interesting, just as you had described him: not as a villain, or evil, or horrendous, but captivating; unbelieving that he would do anything for no good reason.

whether that was true or not was still up for debate, so he had yet to decide if you were incredibly intelligent or the simple, stupid mortal he thought you all to be. nevertheless, he found himself slightly disappointed when you left, waving goodbye to him and tucking your book under your arm. while he tried to dissolve the sensation, tony stark came bounding in, standing as close as he could to the glass barrier. stark barked words that loki didn’t care much for, ignoring the man. he could see you wince from inside the elevator, a sliver of your face still available from the closing doors.

“hey, hey!” stark barked, snapping his fingers at loki. the god tilted his head at him, “yes?” he asks, voice dripped in more annoyance than usual. “that girl who just came out of here?” stark started, while loki took a minute to examine his words, “girl,” was she not an accomplished avenger? he thought tony of all people would show the respect that loki thought none of them deserved. “if you even think about doing anything to her, i will bring in the big guy to slam you around some more. you remember him? or do you need a refresher?”

loki nearly scowls at the mention of hulk, body reminding the strange ache that was left after the oaf slammed him into the floor. he only chuckles lowly, though, “how much do you distrust a fellow avenger to believe they cannot handle themselves?” loki muses. tony scoffs, shaking his head, “i really don’t think you’re in a position to question me.”

“i’m a god. i am always in the position i wish to be in,” loki reminds, making tony roll his eyes, “you’ll never see her again if i can help it. and i can,” he says. “oh, but i like her!” loki rebuts, riling tony up, “so sweet, don’t you think?” tony freezes, abruptly turning around and slamming a hand against the glass, “you will not lay a hand on her. i’ll make sure of it.”

“i seem to remember midgardians can usually do as they please,” loki replies smoothly. “and you really think she’ll want to spend time with a monster?” tony questions. loki smirks, “i suppose i simply have a feeling.”

tony is seething when he comes to your lab, having switched with steve to come talk to you. you’re humming along to a song he doesn’t bother to recognize. “you’re in a good mood,” tony observes. at the sound of his voice, you turn, taking your earbuds out and grinning at him. you press what he assumes is the pause button on your phone, “tony! i’ve actually been meaning to ask you something,” you begin. tony raises an eyebrow to tell you to continue. “it’s about loki,” you continue, anxious about his reaction. the man pauses, exhaling softly, “oh. i know what you want to- i’m so sorry for doing that to you, y/n. i promised that i wouldn’t put you with him and we should’ve been more prepared. it won’t happen again.”

the confusion is clear on your face, vocally affirming it with a “huh?”

“that’s what you wanted to talk about, right? babysitting loki?”

“well, yes, but no, it actually wasn’t bad, i wanted to bring up the idea of maybe allowing him books? or maybe music or something, i can’t imagine going from having any book at your fingertips to none at all. also, he’s not getting enough food and i wanted to talk to you abou-” tony stops you with a raised hand, “what?” you recognize the conversation won’t end too well, so you try to phrase your words in a way that tony won’t get too angry at. “i just- when i was watching him, i thought we could be a little less… cruel.”

“with the guy who tried to take over earth?” tony retorts, you sigh softly, already beginning to feel resigned. “he still deserves to eat,” you defend weakly, “come on, tony, please? i’ll watch over him myself when he’s listening to music or reading or eating and i’ll take it back when i have to leave.” tony shakes his head, “someone will always be watching, and it won’t be you.” you frown, “why? don’t you trust me? i’m an avenger, tony. i’m not weak or useless, it’s just watching over someone who is literally in a cage. he can’t even escape.” tony’s about to say no again, so you press, “how come nick fury- man who doesn’t trust- trusts me enough to do that but you don’t?”

tony’s fingers squeeze the space between his eyebrows, eyes closed. he contemplates the effects if he refuses, no doubt ending in the thinning-by-the-minute thread that is your trust in him completely snapping.

“fine,” he finally agrees, and your frustrated frown melts back into a relieved small smile, “but everything you give him has to go through someone else first. i don’t care if it’s fury or hill or romanoff or me, but it has to be approved.” you nod quickly, “yes, of course.” tony raises a finger, “and, you will watch him the whole time. you got yourself into this, kid. i trust you can protect yourself from him if you ever need to.” you agree, “absolutely, and, uh-” you reach into your bag, pulling out the book finnegan’s wake, and your old ipod, equipped with a single downloaded song and earbuds plugged in. “i actually have already chosen a book and a song that i think he would appreciate during the time he tells me himself what he would like and while it gets approved, and um,” you push the objects toward tony, a surprised look lining his features, “since you have time now… the ipod has only that one song and i doubt he can do anything with either of the items, although i’ll be here if he does.”

“you picked these out for him?” tony questions, and you nod again, “i don’t really know him, i doubt anybody does, but i thought james joyce was a good guess considering.” tony looks from the objects in your hand back to you, before sighing and grabbing them. “i want to break free?” he asks, holding up the ipod. you feel your cheeks heat, “music is hard, i went for the obvious.”

tony exhales, looking down at the book, “fine, both are approved.”

“what, you’re not gonna check to see if i carved out a hole into the book and put the tesseract in there so he could escape?” you ask sarcastically, taking back the items while he rolls his eyes. “no, i trust you.” you grin, “you better. there’s no reason for you to not,” tony agrees with you softly, genuinely feeling bad while he kisses your cheek in goodbye. “steve was just called on a mission and needs a replacement, so you better get down there. bowser isn’t in a good mood today.”

you huff out a light laugh at the nickname, cradling your dear books and tangling your fingers in the cords of the earbuds while you walk to the elevator. you catch your bottom lip between your teeth while you watch the numbers blink above the elevator doors, nerves from your choices finally making a home in the pit of your stomach and making your grip tighten on the items. you really don’t know him, and one of the few things that you do know about him is that he isn’t the nicest- although you think it probable that it was warranted- which begins the inkling of regret of your carefully-picked choice to form. you try your best to push past it though, attempting to reassure yourself through the fact that loki’s reading options are limited, and as evil as everyone (including him) claims he is, you suspect (hope) that there is something in him that can’t simply disregard kind gestures. you suppose that theory is from what thor has told you about frigga. you hope it’s correct.

the elevator dings, knocking your thoughts off their destructive railroad and your attention to the shield guard wearily eyeing you and what you carry. “hey, wally,” you greet, shooting him a smile as you walk over to him, pulling your id card from your pocket. “what’cha got there?” he asks, sitting up straighter in his chair to look closer at you. “a- already approved by tony stark- book and song for loki. you know how much he had access to in asgard?” you question. he shakes his head, and you sigh, “me neither. but i imagine it’s a lot, and i don’t think he’s been introduced to our books yet.”

wally stares at you for a few seconds, before pursing his lips, “already approved by stark?” he checks, “already approved by tony,” you repeat. “just no ear things. don’t want him to choke somebody,” he instructs, holding out his hand. you oh quietly, hurriedly pulling off the headphones and putting them in his hand. wally only nods then, trusting you enough to not ask for any more reassurance, and pressing a button next to him to allow you into another elevator. the ride is much shorter, and you bounce on your heels, fidgeting with the edge of the book.

you barely recognize when the doors part, the slick-haired god already examining you. “in asgard, it is strongly discouraged to damage books like you are doing,” loki states. you stop your picking, dropping your hand and walking inside. “hello to you too, loki.” the god ignores you, instead focused on what is in your arms. “i thought any pleasantries for you weren’t allowed down here,” he says, eyes focused on your ipod. “ah, not if you ask nicely,” you reply, standing next to the chair, “and, these aren’t for me.”

you set your own book down on the floor- a very cliche wuthering heights, but it was either that or romeo and juliet, and you’d prefer not get caught reading about a forbidden romance while watching a villain- and hold up the one for him, grinning. “so i don’t know much about asgard or its books because thor hasn’t budged yet on taking me, but from what i can gather, you have little to no media from here, right?” loki ducks his chin suspiciously in response. “so i can imagine you haven’t read shakespeare, or james joyce, which reminds me a lot of you, so…”

you offer no more explanation, putting the book on your chair and showing him the ipod, walking closer to the glass. “this is an ipod. it’s used to play songs offline, and i picked one out for you. i don’t know if you’ll like it because i don’t really know what type of music you like or if you like it at all-” you pause, finally recognizing how long it had been since he’d talked. “but, uh, i hope you do.”

you look up at him then, unsurprised to find him already staring back at you. “you did this for me… why?” he queries skeptically. “i told you before; i imagine it’s difficult to go from everything to nothing in a day. and i think it must be boring to be trapped in there all day with nothing to do.”

loki still looks distrustful, but you grab the book, pulling out the key card to open his food slot. “i can’t leave these in here after i leave, but i’ll stay until you finish both,” you assure, pushing the book through the small gap. your ipod is still in your hands as you walk back near him. he looks at you for a few moments longer before his eyes flick to the book. “and there are no… explosives? poison of some kind in that?”

you shake your head, “no, of course not.”

loki narrows his eyes at the paperback anyways, walking towards it apprehensively. “when you want me to, i can teach you how the ipod works and you can listen to the song. it’s by a rock band called queen,” you babble, watching as he slowly observes the book before picking it up at an even more leisurely pace.

“i’m going to go sit over there now. just let me know if you need something,” you can’t seem to stop talking, so you focus instead on your legs moving you back to your seat, picking up your novel before sitting. you’re about to ramble on about something else again, until you notice the publication in loki’s hands, slightly panicking at the immediate rush of satisfaction and happiness it gives you when he opens the first page.

you try to avoid the sound of turning pages when you stay stuck on the same sentence, too concerned about why your neck decided to warm when the god accepted your favor.

“you can play it,” loki voices suddenly, almost as if reading the loud thoughts about your decision on the song. he looks up at you, “reading is usually accompanied by light music, but i suppose i could listen to rock.”

you nod, pressing a button on the small device that makes the beginning notes bounce off the walls of the room. your fingers gently tap along to the beat on the edge of your page without your noticing, too used to the melody to not react. you try not to look too hard at loki to watch for his reaction, too interested if he’ll like it or not.

after the first minute passes by and he doesn’t object to the sound, you count this as a win, allowing yourself to relax into your chair and actually read the words lined on the page, discovering them to make a lovely combination. you only notice when the song ends when loki speaks up, “it is okay,” he compliments, “i enjoyed it. i think i’d enjoy your so called queen.” you chuckle softly, “i thought you would. do you have any favorites here so i can add them for next time?”

“no,” loki responds, not taking his eyes off the page. “i’ll find some for you, then,” you promise, then press play on the ipod again, not missing the tiny quirk of loki’s lips, making you way too giddy than you should be.

after it has been over six hours and loki has barely finished finnegans wake, you’re completely sure he took extra time to read it; whether it be to absorb it better or simply have more time with it in his hands, you don’t care, pride swelling up in your chest because you did something right for him. he hadn’t complained about the repeated song, and you can’t blame him. the sounds are a lot more entertaining than the cold silence that usually occupies the space where he resides.

you ask loki more about what he thought, attempting to coerce him into telling you his preferences, until tony is calling you up.

you’re about to leave, both books and ipod in hand when you pause.

“y/n,” loki starts, and you realize it is the first time you’d hear your name out of his mouth. you decide you like how it sounds in his voice, not disregarding how you shouldn’t. “yes?” you answer instead, meeting his eyes. “thank you.”

you swallow, surprised at the genuinity in his voice while you nod, “it was no problem.”

loki finds it disturbing how much he dislikes seeing you walk away.

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