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husbandohunter · 3 years

Note

Your Stardew Impact has given me a serious brainrot and I couldn’t sleep on it so here

Imagine the boys getting Isekai to Stardew and meeting their (soon-to-be) s/o a.k.a the farmer who found them in the mines and dragged them out.

It’s basically the same as the original but the reader lives in Stardew universe from the beginning.

The Outlanders who trespassed the Stars [Stardew Valley + Genshin Impact]

Synopsis: You were a simple farmer who lived a simple life before crossing paths with these outlanders. A tale of greetings and farewells tells a story that loving someone was like looking at the stars in the sky; a sense of warmth amidst darkness, where the dots connect no matter what distance it was. But just like stars, they were meant to be unobtainable.

(Basically what happens if the boys get Isekai'd)

Genre: fluff, angst (faceapalm didn't mean to)

Characters: Childe, Xiao, Zhongli

(A/n): Hi anon, haha I didn't think the Stardew Impact series would be this enjoyable. Allow me to serve your brainrot. But just for future references there is a character limit! Also it long, a pro tip to use ctrl+F and type in the name :>

======================

~Childe's Story~

The day you met Childe was perhaps during the most fortunate yet unfortunate hour of your life.

Winter comes by, your fields were left dry, what else was there to do other than mining? You were aiming to build a new Barnhouse before summer comes, fishing only made average income thus you decided to take your pickaxe and hope to run into some diamonds, gold or even better: prismatic shards. However, expensive items could only be found in the deepest parts of the mountains, where dangerous monsters lurk by.

When peeking over the abandoned minecart you so carefully shielded yourself with, you began contemplating whether you've just dug yourself a grave instead. The whole area became infested, you weren't in the best condition and on top of all that, you were out of food.

You decided to make a run for it, with the treasures and goodies at hand, you couldn't give up. However, things only got worse when purple mist began taking over your vision, signaling a lava bat wave drawing nigh. It was thanks to your greed that you ended in such a predicament but it was also your greed that brought you to him.

"W-Woah!!"

You tripped with your toe pointing downwards into a pile of wooden crates. The bats swarmed in shortly after, daunting around the area above but you couldn't afford to look. Your face was down to the ground and you could only rely on your ears regarding their whereabouts. As if Yoba heard your prayers, the lava bats could not seem to find you, confusing them to think you've escaped. And so, they flew away.

"I'm never doing that again," The sudden impact was excruciating, you were sure that your lip bled due to biting too hard. At least the floor felt somewhat soft, cotton-like and warm enough to be comforting. Yet, for some reason it was also a little…bony?

"…Mn…."

Your body jerks up like a springboard when you felt something shifting. A man, no older than his twenties, no older than you, lays sprawled out under your form. He was beginning to stir and you panicked when a pair of blue cerulean eyes pointed into your seemingly shocked ones within the close parameter.

Too close.

The man gives a cheerfully wry chuckle, you could practically feel his breath almost, "Well this is quite unexpected, didn't think I'd end up in this position," he jests, soon his expression began to tighten into a grimace, "Mind getting off me though? With all due respect miss, you're a little-…heavy."

You scrambled to the side while still kneeling, "What the hell, who are you?!"

"Hm," The man didn't answer, instead he pushed himself upright and turned his attention to examine the surroundings, "Where are we?" He paused when he noticed how the ceiling was made of rocks, "Wait, is this a cave?"

"Ninety two floors deep and surrounded by monsters," you sighed in frustration while rubbing your head with your palm, "Seriously, whoever you are you shouldn't be here, especially if you're not even carrying the necessary supplies."

"Hey, I just got here. I'm just as confused as you," he puts his hands up in a defensive gesture, "But how strange," he mutters to himself, lowering his arms ever so slightly before pinching his chin in deep thought, "I swear it was the right portal…or maybe it was the other one? Hmmm, could it be the effect of the hidden seal?"

I have so many questions. You sweatdropped nervously. Here you were, hours spent to get to the deepest parts of the earth and looking like a cavewoman while his clothes were practically untouched, nor did they seem to be a recognizable fashion. You've seen many odd events within Stardew Valley but not to this extent, "Alright you know what, let's forget about it for now. We need to get out of here before those lava bats come back for us again. Otherwise we're toast," you gestured to the lava pool, "Literally."

He gave another one of his gleeful smiles, you wondered if he was afraid at all, "Sounds like a solid plan to me. Judging by the equipment you're wearing, you seem to have been here for a while. You know your way around?"

Figures that he doesn't know, you thought, "I'll lead."

"Glad we're on the same page. Though, we've only just met and yet you're still willing to help a stranger like me," he mentions in an off-handed manner, perhaps he wasn't used to generosity ever since being recruited as a harbinger, "But not that I'm complaining. You have my thanks, comrade."

"(Y/n)," you tell him, "That's my name. I'm a farmer that resides in this town."

"I see. A town it is then," he inquires, "Call me Childe, as where I'm from, not sure how to answer that anymore."

"What do you-"

But before you were able to question him further, a hoard of lava crabs were spotted crawling it's way towards where Childe sat. He shot you a confused look and turned to the direction, amusement sparks in his eyes,

"Lava crabs? You've got to be kidding me," your arms have already grown tired long ago, at this rate, you figured it may be best to pay a visit to Harvey's doctor office and check up for any muscle strains that have occured during the process. You most likely have considered how heavy your items felt now. Partaking in another battle would only make it worse.

"Ah an opponent, to think this place wouldn't have a set of new monsters to fight. I was growing tired of beating up hilichurls all the time."

His casual reaction caused you to scrunch up your nose in disbelief, "We're being ganged up on and your first response was that???"

Childe paid no mind, instead he propelled himself back to his feet using his trained reflexes and swaggered towards the crowd, "Relax girlie," Stopping just after a few steps, he turns his head ajar over his shoulder with a floppy smirk spreading his lips, "I've got this."

You held in your breath, wondering if you could trust this man. For now all you could do was sit back and hopefully regain some of your strength while observing by the stacks of crates that were abandoned years ago. The lava crabs formed a straight line in front of him, they were smart creatures, cornering their prey in a very well strategized form so that trespassing was out of the question. Childe wasn't intimidated in the slightest, he merely looked down at them with hooded eyes, flexing his fingers for preparation.

"Lava crab…in other words you're of the pyro element," the harbinger holds out his hand in front of him, trying to cultivate the shape of his bow, "A shame. This fight would end much shorter than I anticipated."

However, when he expected his element to manifest, nothing came out. Childe was left dumbfounded.

"Don't just stand there," you screeched, "Do something!!!"

"Wait," he halts you and tries to summon his bow again. Once, twice, as the crabs grew closer still there was nothing, "My powers…they're gone?!"

"Take this," left without a choice, you pushed yourself towards him and shoved Neptune's glaive into his grasp. He examines it with curiosity, but you knew this was also your own well-being you were entrusting him, "It's really easy to use, just-"

When a crab leapt forward, you ran back to create some manageable space for Childe to move in. He delivers a powerful slice using one arm, hitting the crab's weak spot while tossing it toward the side until a dent was formed in the wall. Your mouth parts, fast, he was fast, you didn't even have the time to blink. It was as if he knew the glaive more than you did. Though, the assumption wasn't that far from the truth. Childe was well adept with swordsmanship as he was an expert with many other melee weapons. Which is precisely the reason why he chose the bow as his main, a ranged device, the challenge to keep him on his toes. Just like he was now.

"He wasn't lying when he said he could fight," you watched in mesmerization, each single blow he delivered deemed equivalent to three hits on your part. Childe was both powerful and swift. He was formidable. The way he effortlessly deflected his opponents despite not having an enchantment ring made you forget how much of an idiot he was earlier before. Soon, the lava crabs began to lessen, leaving what remained of their dusted corpse while some retreated back into the depths of the cave.

"Not bad, it was kind of fun!" Childe laughs exasperatedly, glancing at his blue reflection upon the marred blade, "It's been a while since I last used a sword, and still haven't gone rusty either," he hands you the hilt, "Thanks for letting me use it by the way. You seriously got yourself a sick weapon."

"Keep using it for now, I think I'm a little too worn out to handle it," you say regretfully and pointed your nose towards the ceiling, "The mist hasn't disappeared so there's probably gonna be more monsters we'll encounter soon."

Childe looks up as well, "Huh I was wondering what that meant."

"By the way I've never seen anyone fight like that. Exactly what kind of place are you from?" You finally ask, "You somehow ended up in a cave, without anything to defend yourself with and it's not like you know your way out either. Are you...from another world?"

"Huh didn't think you'd draw that conclusion so quick," he comments jokingly, "Guess there's no reason to hide it anymore. Indeed I am from another world, at least, that's what I can tell so far. I've never encountered these types of monsters either."

You couldn't help but be taken aback by his honesty, "That was strangely easier than I thought...."

After escaping the cave, you introduced Childe to the wizard who lived in Cindersap forest, M. Rasmodius. He was extremely intrigued by the concept of an outlander and seemed happy to be of assistance. Since helping others was the culture of Pelican Town, you commissioned Robin to build a small cabin for him to live in temporarily. In return, Childe must accompany you back to the caves and make up for your losses. It was a mutual benefit since he had the opportunity to fight as well.

Childe befriended the townsfolk rather easily. On friday nights where everyone goes to the Saloon to enjoy their time, he would be found in the other room playing pool with the gang (Sam, Abigail and Sebastian)-- you as well when he managed to drag you along with him.

Crashes at your place when you were busy with the farm. You can bet that he would pop up suddenly midday through your window, “Can you use the door like a normal person???” But despite how much you get irritated by this habit, all bygones are bygones the moment he starts a conversation.

He sticks around as you carry your hay batches, sharing his stories. How the organization he worked in was a powerful militaristic force that had authority over many countries. But you didn't see him as a brute since he only joined for the sake of his parents, for the sake of his siblings and their dreams.

You thought of your grandfather who also once told you to pursue your dreams: live a peaceful life away from urban society. However, as long as the harbinger was with you, there wasn't much option for 'peace'.

"Tell me again why you dragged me out here? You know thatI still have a lot of work to finish back in the farm," you trekked your feet through the thick icy sheets with one hand clutching the zipper near your collarbone. It was incredibly windy in Cindersap forest and Childe happened to have convinced you to leave the comfort of your home for 'a surprise favour'. He purposely made a vague statement to draw in your curiosity but if you had refused-- well, that would have led to constant nagging on his part.

"You'll see," is what he said, it was what he told you through this whole ordeal. He lifted his chin to feel the frosty air against his face, "There's this one activity I wanted to try out. Back in Snezhnaya, I used to bring my brother to go skating out on the lakes. It's deadly freezing there so the ice is pretty thick to work on. Haven't done any of that since I joined the Fatui."

You shot him a deadpan glare, "That's why you brought me out here? Why didn't you just go by yourself?"

"Now that's cold (Y/n),” you rolled your eyes at the pun, “Can't you loosen up instead of throwing yourself in a pile of work all day?"

"It's not that I don't want to...I'm just very busy with the farm since it's the last day of the month. At least I want to do as much as I can before Spring comes."

"Haha you're right but you only live once y'know?" Childe noted happily despite your protest, "And like I said before, seize the opportunity when you see it. You never know when it will be your last."

You cocked your head to the side, "What do you mean?"

"Now let's get started shall we?" As you both reach the edge of the frozen lake, Childe takes a step forward ahead of you, "Have you ever gone ice skating before?"

"Yeah but..." You glanced at the glassy surface with skepticism, suddenly struck by hesitance. The thought of drowning made you retreat your steps right away, "I don't know Childe, it doesn't seem that safe."

"That's true if you're not careful enough," he pointed out, "Luckily you have me to help you with that."

"How does that work?"

He placed one foot onto the hardened lake and parts his mouth into a grin, "Watch."

In contrast to your cautious personality, Childe was considered to be more of a wildcard if anything. He loved adventure, just like you except his side often included bloodshed and the thrill that danger carries. You weren't sure if it was worth putting up with his antics or entertaining his idea of skating on thin ice, but you complied regardless. He had a way of delivering his words through that cheery voice you couldn't deny.

Prior to meeting him, life was boring. The corporate world was boring. You moved into your grandfather's farm in order to search for some form of fulfillment that Zuzu city couldn't give and you thought you did now that you had your very own farm, but slowly you began to pile more responsibilities than you could even count.

Everything you did, you did alone.

If it weren't for Childe, you wouldn't have learned the art of surfing on ocean waters. You never would have known the taste of mixing three different ice-cream flavours together despite what strange names they all had. Or what it felt like to mingle with the townspeople rather than mingling for the sake of business. Suddenly, everything became...fun.

Childe wanted to go far and wide. He was always running, so far ahead, somewhere beyond the stars as he could conquer the world to the point you might no longer reach him.

No longer reach him, huh. Curling your fingers into your palm, you renewed your courage and took a step onto the ice.

At the sound of boots tapping behind him, Childe spins around to see you wobble in your stance, nearly tipping over. He slid across to where you were and grasped your arm before you fell.

"Gotcha."

"Thanks," You sighed in relief, "Jeez, this is harder than I thought."

"Guess this is your first time then," he commented with a bit of jest, "Don't stress yourself over it too much, you'll be okay. I got you."

He carefully led you to the center, staying close in case you were to fall sideways again. You awkwardly tried to keep your legs straight, balancing on your own yet the fact that there was still water underneath struck fear into your nerve. It caused you to tremble and eventually skittered backwards.

"Haha ice skating isn't your forte isn't it?"

"I'm just getting started!"

He takes your hand in his before you could even protest, it was one of his many aspects that you found endearing-- the fact his impulse stems from genuine intentions, feelings, not giving them a second thought. The two of you glide using the soles of your shoes, he speeds up ever so slightly and the adrenaline begins to increase until there comes a rush of excitement, freedom. The stress you once had already forgotten once taking flight upon the ice.

"Look Childe! I'm actually doing it!" You couldn't help mentioning with a bit of youthful playfulness in your voice, "It's so smooth and fast! Almost like I'm flying!"

He smiles quietly from a distance, “See? I told you that you'll be fine.”

It was clear to many that the two of you were much closer than what meets the eye.

Childe began to notice the change in your aura. You were happier and much more soulful. Before you were always on the edge, cautious in contrast to his sanguine approach, he couldn't help but be caught off guard whenever you teased him. Or the sudden honesty that causes him to be flustered. By your side, he was no longer a Fatui Harbinger rather more of a puppy, adorable almost.

But when he saw that the reason you changed was because of him, it brought fear into his bones. Why? How did things get to this point? You were lost in a wonderland, ignorant to the blossom that had sprung inside of your chest.

Maybe it was better to be ignorant. Just live in the moment while it can still last.

"You're leaving?"

Standing at the gateway between the mountain cliffside and the starry sky, you call out to the man you've known in a way that carries more than what words could say. Because he left a mark in your years that could never be erased and here he was, trying to erase his existence completely.

Childe lets out a bitter chuckle, he didn't dare to face you, "I didn't expect you to catch up so quickly. You're quick-witted, comrade."

"It's (Y/n)," you corrected, trying to steady your voice so that he couldn't tell the expression you were making, "Why didn't you say anything? What makes you think that I'll just stay silent and let you go on your own way? This isn't a joke Childe! Don't act as if none of it matters to you because it sure as hell did to me."

His lips that held his usual smirk flattens into a straight line, "Even if I did, would it make a difference?"

The world stills. You knew the answer, he knew the answer, you just refused to admit it. One by one, the stars begin to collect themselves until a bridge was formed in front of him, on another day he would be enjoying the scenery alongside you. But today they would be for you alone to witness. The man who you spent your time with had slowly, regretfully, inevitably became a stranger. He was right. It wouldn't make a difference. You were already aware since the day you met him that he belonged to another world and you willingly offered to help him find a way home.

"You know, you could come with me."

Your eyes jolt open. His voice was so free of care. As if he was commenting on something so minor on a casual Sunday afternoon while accompanying you to the beach. But when you came face to face with the harbinger, his expression lackluster, you knew that he meant every word.

"Just you and me, we can travel across the world to our heart's content. I always thought you were an adventurer just like me and you know what, the farm life just doesn't suit you," Childe slowly extends his hand as an offer, for you it was a temptation, "So what do you think? Care to join me?

Your lip quivers. What he said sounded like a sweet dream that you so desperately wanted to take a bite out of. But even so, you thought about the townsfolk, your farm, your grandfather. Their images flashed in as if holding you back, chaining you to the ground, "I can't."

The answer pained you more than it did to him.

"Figures, this is your home after all," he huffs out, " Now do you understand? I can't leave my home either. If I did, heh, I think my siblings would despise me until the very end and I just don't want that. So no hard feelings, okay?"

You didn't reply.

"Don't worry. I won't pressure you if you don't want to," Childe turns back to the bridge, it was almost time, "Do what you have to do (Y/n), hate me if it makes you feel any better. You can even forget about me," he paused, renewing his resolve, "But I know I won't."

"Childe-"

You ran to grab his scarf only to have it ghost through your hands. He was relieved that he couldn't hear your voice, as he returned to Teyvat, Childe wonders what kind of expression did you have before he left? He'll never know.

---

~Xiao's Story~

The day you met Xiao...well, you weren't in the best of the best positions.

This was probably your sixth attempt trying to make it through all levels of the cave and reach the last floor. The quest had been sitting in your drawer for months.

Of course you didn't expect things to be easy, the fortune teller channel you watched every morning had yet to inform you with any good fortune and you would often bump into obstacles that would halt your progress.

But to be fair, sometimes the colourful ore would attract your attention and before you knew it, it was time to go.

So close yet so far. You dragged your feet tiredly against the ground. What time was it? Who knows. Judging by your state, you assumed it had already struck past 12 a.m.

However, today luck seems to have taken pity on you, just...slightly.

You puffed air into your cupped hands for the nth time, huddling deeper into the touch of your coat while trudging into the cave's cold climate. A little longer, any time soon, you kept telling yourself over and over but as if time was frozen, the wait felt like an eternity. Ah how much you wish to be in the comfort of your soft, fluffy bed right now. Though, merely visualizing the image only reminded how achingly freezing it was so you decided it was best to spare yourself from the details.

"I can't do this anymore..." leaning your head against the ice covered cavern, you whimpered, "I should have stayed home."

As you were about to shut your eyelids, something flashed by your peripheral vision. You darted towards the direction it came from, the light was a bright green hue against blue, could it be, "Warmth!"

It seems you jumped to conclusions too quickly. With impatience, you swung around the corner, expecting to find a heat source, only to meet something much more horrifying.

"KYAH!"

They stared straight into your eyes, those demonic eyes tainted by black and fangs that stuck out of the mouth like tusks on an elephant.

However, when the light evaporated you were able to have a better sense of sight, slowly revealing the monster's true form and the body of a human boy. He fell onto his back with a thud and you used this chance to calm yourself from the frightful encounter.

"He's...unconscious?"

You meekly crawled to where he lay and examined closely. Aside from the mask, there were various distinct features that stood out in his attire, his tattoo being one of them, imprinted in what looked like an eagle. You then realized how unsuitable his clothes were in this current situation. At least there were no injuries so far. But was that a good thing? This man practically came out of thin air as if some sorcery had been committed. Witches never left a good impression ever since they cursed your chicken coop. You were hesitant whether to help a stranger who could potentially be one of them or a creation they cultivated. What other explanation could there be?

"I can't leave him here, it's too cold."

Your gaze suddenly falls upon his covered face. The design, although intimidating at first, upon closer look was very alluring in it’s own way. You haven't stumbled upon anything like what the merchants had to offer in Pelican Town and the mask almost looked too foreign. Was he from the east? Curiosity eventually takes over and you gingerly reach for the mask, sliding it off his face.

"Eh...?" You gasp, taken aback by his striking appearance. A part of it made you feel this was no ordinary boy but that didn't mean he should be abandoned in this environment. It would be immoral to let him die in a place like this.

Before you could even make a noise, his eyes bursted awake, grabbing your wrist in a harsh grip. He used his other hand to push against your shoulder until you were instantly pinned on your back with no opening to escape. You choked a sharp sound as you stared with wide eyes. The man was akin to a beast, he had the expression to match it, like the glaring sharp gaze of wolves that roam at the mountain cliffside near Zuzu city and the ferocity of the demonic mask he once wore. You were breath taken but in a more fearful way as he continued to grip onto you tighter with the possible intent to harm.

"Speak!” He demanded, “What have you done to my powers and where have you brought me?"

In Xiao’s case, he was thrown into another world under the circumstances of fighting against one of Liyue’s unknown beasts. He was on high alert, thinking the fight was still ongoing.

You may look human but you could still be a threat. Xiao is the type to act upon instinct in the moment when something feels out of place. Like the spear he wields, he was trained to behave like one: to strike, strike down his foes without hesitation. Don't leave an opening for them to take the advantage. Xiao is a weapon and violence was what he knew best. He couldn't afford to lower his guard even for a minute.

You could say he left a pretty strong first impression to the point you were paralyzed. As he looked at your face, petrified and tense, he wavered and began to reevaluate things. Large doe-like eyes stare into his feline ones. They didn't seem to hold any sort of malice, was it possible for you to be the one who cursed him?

"Eeeeeek! I-I have no idea what you're talking about, let me go let me go!" you cried, "Please don't hurt me!"

Perhaps he shouldn’t have jumped to conclusions.

Xiao feels your struggle and eventually gets off to give you some space. Your reaction was understandable, he was used to it anyways. Xiao scoffed to himself, why are mortals so weak? Their strength, if compared to the adepti, was separated by a large gap (Like it always should be). Xiao kept his gaze averted to the side as you rubbed your wrist, focusing his attention elsewhere. He glanced at the vastness of the cave in front of him.

Why was he sent here? For what reason did it serve? Ever since he sealed the contract with Rex Lapis, the guardian Yaksha had never entertained the thought of leaving his country nor did he act upon it; he was far too loyal to his god to do so. But here he was, against his own will yet free from his karmic binds, stripped of his divine powers in the return of endless questions about this new found mortal-like form.

What should I do now?

Choosing not to dwell in any longer, Xiao rises to his feet and proceeds to walk the other way.

"Ah u-uhm sir, where are you going?"

If the universe wanted to test him then he'll find his own answers.

"Wait! Please wait up!"

"Tch."

Although he intended to keep going, Xiao heard you running to his direction and slowed to a halt, some mortals surely do not know their boundaries, "Hmph there's nothing timid about you. Leave me be," he demands without turning around, "Don't forget what I'm capable of."

Stay away.

"I-I know that," you retaliate weakly. Just by hearing his tone made you want to melt away and become one with the ice. He was a scary man indeed, the same one who attacked you earlier. But even so, "That doesn't mean I want you dead! If you go that way, you might freeze to death. Aren't you cold? You don't even have a coat on."

"..." Upon the mention of his predicament, his senses started to kick in. As a yaksha, Xiao wasn't able to be affected by temperature but now he felt his hands beginning to sting, trembling from it’s impact. Ah, so this is what it feels like to be cold. Still Xiao was stubborn and continued to push you away, "What happens to me has nothing to do with you. Now leave, or else."

"I-I can't do that!"

Xiao clicks his tongue in frustration. How annoying. This is why he dislikes meddling with meddlesome humans. But quite frankly, he wasn't sure how to handle your type of forwardness since most tend to back away. And so, Xiao does what he usually does, he ignores you and continues walking, eventually you'll give up on him anyway. However he hears a loud thump and whips around to see your body laying in the snow. The hours of travelling in the cave have seemed to caught up that you inevitably collapsed from exhaustion.

Knitting his evergreen brows together, Xiao lets out an irritable sigh.

...

You wake up to find the sky above your head and your coat draped over your shoulders like a blanket. Dawn was slowly rising above the distance valley, you figured it was around 4a.m in the morning. Rubbing your eyes, you eventually noticed a figure sitting across, admiring the sunrise.

"Ah it's you!"

Xiao jolts ever so slightly, peeking over his bare shoulders until you could see the sun's light casted against his golden irises. Did he stay here while you were asleep? Then, that would also mean he was also the one who carried you all the way up from sixty floors below.

“You're awake,” he noted flatly, “If that's the case, then I have no reason to stay here."

Of course, that wouldn't be the last time you saw him.

You were a tenacious human being, always so insistent in dragging him away from his lonesome personality. He resides in the forest and camps there for the time being (similar to Linus since they’re both homeless lol). But you’d always run in, DAILY and sometimes for the most stupid and mundane reasons. It could either be giving him the snacks you snatched off the table since Xiao refused to participate in parties, or fancy seashells you found on the beach. You didn’t want him to miss out on all those things of course! Although he responds with irritation, it was as if his words went through your ear and then out the other. His efforts were futile (however, he was slowly warming up without realizing).

He learns how easily his body reacts in the presence of food purely because he was hungry. You bring an extra set of blankets and pillows to his campsite when the ones you gave him wore out (he didn’t ask by the way). Xiao needed help whether he liked it or not since he no longer has his powers, hence he couldn't run away. He somehow ends up moving in to live on the small islands near your farm.

Xiao doesn't understand humans very much. Just as he was unable to understand how human emotions work. He was the almighty yaksha, Adeptus Xiao and a formidable beast that killed thousands in thousands of years, at least that's what he used to be. Even now he still has yet to figure out what he was or who he was exactly without a weapon to define his existence. He was made for battle but nowadays, he found himself watering plants, chopping down trees and throwing seeds to the chickens living in your coop. How did everything escalate to this? It baffles him, how much his life changed so drastically.

Haha, you’re Xiao of course! The greatest farming assistant I could ever have.

But above all else, the one thing Xiao couldn't understand among those universal questions, is you.

"Why are you doing all this?" Finally he asked. The urging thought had been persisting at the back of his mind ever since.

You stopped on your tracks and turned to look at him, tilting your head with a complexion made curious, "What do you mean? Ah, did I do something to bother you?"

"I didn't say that," Xiao interrupts abruptly, he folded his arms across his chest and shot you a deep contemplating gaze, " You're...incomprehensible. All I did was drag you out of that cave yet why are you so kind to me? Don't you think you're extending yourself too much just because of one little deed?"

Because to him, saving a life was the norm. He does it unconditionally just like you helped him with those same intentions. Except, Xiao had been pursuing corrupted souls behind the scenes all this time and expected nothing in return. Experiencing someone's gratitude was rather new.

You shook your head, "It wasn't small to me," a satisfactory smile melting onto your face, "I'm here at this very moment, feeling the wind against my skin and smelling the scent that nature carries, these are just the few things I cherish. It's thanks to you that I can still watch over grandpa's farm, that's why I don't feel like I'm overextending myself in any way," suddenly you beam at him, "At first I thought you were a scary person. Haha. Time flies so fast, it's amazing how much can happen in between."

"Hn, you're a simpleton. But that's not a bad thing..." he points out curtly yet softly, "Do as you wish, I won't stop you so feel free to call my name whenever you need my help. I'll be there."

Xiao also finds you to be very clumsy. He couldn't leave your side even for a minute. But that was a lie. He just grew very attached to you.

When you tell him that you've been going into the mines for a quest, he tells you that you're far from capable. So he teaches you how to wield a weapon properly. Xiao was a strict teacher and he intends to keep it that way, he wouldn’t even allow you to set foot in the mines until he finds you capable enough.

You were a meek yet optimistic person, yet you were also strong-willed.

For a place that wasn't his home, he felt it was. And he found that it was all in your presence. Those peaceful hours hiding inside the barn while a storm rages outside, you sit beside him while hugging a sheep close to your chest. Xiao learns how to feed some of them, he even brings seeds for your hen house too. If you were ever short on materials, Xiao would travel to the enchanted forest behind the wizard's tower and get them for you, no matter how late it was. Though if you went by yourself, he'd deliberately go with you despite your protest.

The minute Xiao realized how much he was attached to you, it was devastating. As if the claws of his karmic debt had come back, pulling him into the shadows once more. He was an adeptus with a contract and bound by his duty, he must choose between his god who saved him from a nightmare and you, the girl he fell for, showed him that the world was indeed a beautiful place, he was stuck in an equilibrium and he felt that the binds may even tear him apart if he kept resisting.

But when did he ever have a choice?

"Where are you going Xiao?"

When he heard your voice calling his name, the yaksha willingly pulled himself to a halt. His sunset eyes narrowing from guilt before it shuts with a trembling sigh out of his mouth. Why is it that you always appear during the moments where he desperately needs to get away from you? He planned to sneak out the door, making sure his footsteps were unheard while you slept. And by the time you woke up, he didn't have to face you, he wouldn't have to say goodbye. He won't. Even if what he was currently doing said otherwise. He will never hear himself say those words.

"Xiao?"

Yet, he cannot refuse you. Not now, not ever. You were breathtaken to see a type of expression that you never thought was possible for him to make. The creases that once formed between his slender brows, the heaviness he always carried in his expression was replaced by a sense of sentimentality. Before you could register what was happening, Xiao took his step towards the porch of your house, not once did he tear away from your attention. He slides his hand beneath your jaw and affectionately against your cheek, the fondness evident in his gaze that you almost felt imprisoned by it.

"You never fail to appear in the most inconvenient of times," He gives a weak smile, a smile that makes your heart swell. Despite how much you could drown in his honesty, you couldn’t help but feel there was something wrong, “No matter how many times I’ve tried to push you away.”

You don't know him. You don't know his history and what things he committed in the past. But as if you've known this whole time, Xiao couldn't picture you leaving him for those reasons.

“You’re gentle but you don’t let others put you down. You’re kind but you don’t allow it to be your weakness. I sometimes wonder how it is possible for anyone to be so forgiving?”

"I-I don’t understand why you’re this Xiao. Is something happening?”

He won’t tell you. He doesn’t see the reason why you need to know.

You wince when something poked the side of your neck and you realized it was a tranquilizer. You looked at Xiao with dismay, his face becoming hazier until your vision darkened and could no longer hold your own weight. Xiao caught you around the waist with one arm as you fell unconscious.

"How can you be so stupid...?"

But he speaks as if those words were meant for him.

Pulling your body closer to him, Xiao chains you down into a desperate embrace. A silent scream of desperation. His forehead pressed against the bent of your shoulder and the other arm rested his hand at the center of your back. He will relish in the shape of your body, memorizing every curve both perfections and flaws. The way you fit into his arms and the pleasant smell of nature that you taught him to love, this was the only remnant he was allowed to take. Every detail, he will remember it as if clinging to the last moments of his whole world.

If he was allowed to have a desire, let him meet you again. He prayed to a god, any god-- even if it meant damaging his oath, he will accept his punishment. He prayed to each star in the sky and if he must he'll pray to the devil himself, whatever it is, he will do it for you.

As he painfully lets go, Xiao lets his hand slide off your body until the last thing he felt was the very tips of your fingers. He settles you down gently into your bed. You belong here in this peaceful world, not the one riddled with monsters.

---

~Zhongli's Story~

The Skull Cavern was considered to be the most dangerous mine of Stardew Valley. It wasn't your intention to run into any trouble, all you wanted was to test your cool new galaxy sword on some easy monsters and then be on your merry way. At first.

Just one more floor. You say, before catching an arm sticking out a pile of rocks.

"I-Is that a person?!!!"

You dug as fast as you could, any time soon the mummies would wake up and start attacking. Quick quick! Moving the last rock, you saw the face of a young man, he was asleep but alive! and undeniably attractive oh wow *lip bite*. But despite your attempts of shaking him awake, it was fruitless and the monsters weren't waiting.

Taking out two warp totems, you raised it to the ceiling and chanted a teleportation spell.

It wasn't everyday that you brought a man to your house.

But when you did, he wouldn't be from a cave, six floors down and buried in a place filled with monsters.

"And this small black device you say is some form of communicator? That certainly is intriguing, never in my years have I heard of something so advanced."

However you were beginning to think otherwise. That this man would have been from the prehistoric ages who you managed to unbury after his thousand year slumber. Zhongli sits on the couch across from you while examining your smartphone, a term he claimed had been completely foreign. You were contemplating whether you should bother Harvey despite being past his work hour and book an emergency appointment to see if this man had a special case of amnesia.

You brushed the idea away. There was so much going on and nothing made sense, for now, you decided to settle this on your own.

"Uhm Zhongli is it?" you asked nervously, "Maybe you can try giving the name of a relative or someone you know. I can use the phonebook to see if I can find their number."

“Number?” He parroted.

You blinked a few times, making sure if you heard him correctly, “Yes, number. You know? To communicate?”

"I appreciate your kind gesture," Zhongli acknowledges in a polite manner, "But that won't be necessary. This device doesn’t seem to be at a level where it can communicate with the people from my homeland."

If he was travelling then how the hell did he end up in THE Skull Cavern is what I wanna know!

“T-Then if you don't mind me asking, where are you from?"

Zhongli takes this moment to think of an answer, aware that if he blurted something out it would not have translated in the way he wanted. But you so kindly invited him to your humble household that he felt it would only be proper to owe you an explanation, "I suppose a land from afar."

You sweatdropped, "Suppose?"

"Yes. Although I won't spare you the details since this is not your burden to bear, it’s quite difficult for me to try and remember exactly what happened," Zhongli took his chin into his hand, fingers almost covering his mouth, "Perhaps I would need search for clues in order to refresh my memory."

Oh no he really does have amnesia!!

"A-Actually why don't I just call the local doctor, I'm sure he wouldn't mind giving you a hand," you say while taking your iPhone.

"A doctor? There's no need," dismissed Zhongli, "My condition is only a minor one and I do not think I'm in a position to afford medical assistance. Besides, you have done more than enough. May you find great fortune in your years Miss (Y/n), I shall be on my way."

He pushes himself up from the couch and you watch him cross towards the door. But just when he was about to reach the space of your carpet, Zhongli pulled to an abrupt stop.

"Ah yes,” He began as if remembering something, “ Do you happen to know where the nearest Inn is located? I would need to find a place to shelter for the time being."

"..."

This was how the former god ended up being your roommate. Like Xiao, Zhongli also takes upon a human form. He needed to eat, drink and a place to sleep. He insisted that he would take the couch as well as help you with any tasks that needed to be completed during the day.

You question if Zhongli was even aware of what situation he was currently in. Answer: HE WASN'T because Zhongli is an extremely dense man. To feel embarrassed was not part of his dictionary when living with a woman.

The type to take long showers. You always find the bathroom steaming because he doesn't turn on the fan to get rid of it (but maybe you should've taught him). So when it was your turn to use the shower, the water was either lukewarm or worst case scenario, cold.

Also he somehow finds your old kettle (that your grandfather used) to brew tea even though you told him you already had a water boiler. He stated that he liked doing things the old-fashioned way, it brings him a sense of nostalgia. You couldn't understand what he meant (unless you considered that he was older than he seemed....no that can’t be it!)

Despite it all, Zhongli was incredibly polite and considerate. Tending the farm was not an easy job and you often came home with sore muscles, fatigued from running so many errands. He's knowledgeable in terms of making the best herbal mix for a soothing remedy.

You would see a warm cup, every morning before going to work and every time you come home, it was sitting on the kitchen table (if his drink had potion effects, they would be regeneration).

Gentle he was but it wasn't good for your heart.

Ever since Zhongli moved in, it became difficult to live in your own house.

There were many situations where he caused trouble despite not intending to cause disruption to your daily routine. And when he did, the repairs came out of your own pocket. One time you opened your microwave to find thick ash and burnt cinders stuck upon the walls.The entire space was a hazard and needed to be dispensed immediately since Zhongli thought that plastic-wrapped items were allowed to be microwaved. Another incident, as bizarre as it sounded, was when your vacuum cleaner zoomed out of your house...and never came back. You remembered the awkward cough he gave when you shot him a deathly glare, hence why Zhongli was not allowed to touch your high-tech devices (if you considered them high-tech) without your permission.

Even so, you couldn’t bring yourself to hate him. It was the opposite in fact. One day, all the flaws you counted suddenly became his charms. You came to find them endearing almost.

Zhongli was a handsome man. He carried himself with a distinct aura that could only be found in the rarest geodes; revealing orestones mined from the depths of a forgotten cave, sometimes in the shape of exquisite artifacts-- a type of ancient charm. Perhaps that was why people were willing to obey his every command without hesitation. Whenever Zhongli spoke, it was full of firmness and authority yet somehow deprived of arrogance. He was polite to all and does not indulge in conflict despite how tempting gossip can be in modern society. Always patient during your temperamental moments and considerate to the point you wonder if he even had any desires. He was so kind that soon enough, you couldn't help but be flustered by his presence. Forget about having a conversation, maintaining his leveled gaze was already enough of a challenge. Like staring into the sun after the morning dew. So gentle and so very comforting. But the more you linger onto the sun, it's rays will continue to set ablaze, eventually bringing you pain.

And you feared that you have grown addicted to those feelings.

Why can't he understand?

Stopping at the center of the bridge, you kept your head low while letting the anger take form into your tightened fists. The town was empty with only the sound of water flowing beneath your feet, filling the heavy air. They rippled and swayed, peaceful amongst your inner turmoil. The fact that such a miniscule attribute was able to make your blood rise was hilariously pitiful. How did you stoop to a point that even nature, the very being you've tended for a living, could bring you bitterness? Were your feelings this uncontrollable? The answer was obvious. It spiraled, violently and mercilessly as if commanded by another. There was a wave of emotions filling your heart and you could almost feel yourself drowning from the inside. If only they were as tranquil as the ones you stood upon.

"I thought I would find you here."

The voice you dreaded calls from across and you fight to keep yourself from gasping. Oblivious to it all, Zhongli proceeds to close the distance until he towered over you, looking down to your bowed head, "When you hadn't returned home without a notice, I was getting worried if something had happened. But I'm glad that wasn't the case."

Your whole face clenches.

"Is something bothering you? If you would like, we can discuss it after eating dinner. Come, I have already prepared our meal while you were gone as well as turning off the rice cooker once finished. I hope it can ease your stress since I know it can be difficult maintaining a farm like this."

"Zhongli."

He blinks hard when the sound of his name falls out of your lips. Zhongli was an experienced observer and listener, he was able to catch the glimpse of frustration that dripped from the tone you used. Relaxing his poised shoulders, Zhongli carefully asked in a reserved manner, "Have I...done something to make you upset?"

A trembled breath escaped when you breathed out. Dense. He was so dense that sometimes it made you want to crack him open.

"Tell me..." you began, "Are you also like this with other women?"

The former god sets a brief sharp pause, "I beg your pardon?"

"I'm talking about the way you act, they're...giving me all these mixed signals. We've been living together for months, we even share meals together! And sometimes you would help me with the farm and when I didn't ask, you still insisted on tending to my needs when I felt sick. I just…” you trailed off, trembling ever so slightly, "It's all perfectly normal. You’re nice to everyone. I know that. I know that!"

"(Y/n)," Zhongli whispered. They sounded like a thousand needles to your heart.

"I doubt you have the intention to put me in this situation. You're a really great person Zhongli but I sometimes can't help feeling this isn't just some roommate thing you know?" closing your eyes, you thought of your past relationships, how they started and ended, "Do any of your actions mean anything to you? Do you know how it makes me feel? Or am I just overthinking this, that it was all one-sided this whole time?"

Alas the truth spills and the air stills, bringing the waves to a halt. Peace, tranquility, nothingness. That was all you wanted. That was all you heard. It was deafening.

"I see, so that's why," Zhongli mutters to himself with eyes narrowed, "There's...something I need to confess."

After several months, he tells you everything. How his memories returned, some of them were already intact. He told you about his homeland and his true identity, that he was a god that once ruled over Liyue for six centuries before giving away the gnosis.

The reason why he hadn't said anything until now was because there will be a day where Zhongli must depart and return to Teyvat. He was a god with a contract, the circumstance didn't matter, he must stay with it until the very end of time.

Through his years, Zhongli learned to cherish his finite moments. He didn't want to taint them with troubles to come. Thinking too far ahead into the future would only bring strain.

But what he didn't tell you was his true feelings. You were a sweet woman, tender and enthusiastic about agriculture, the way your feelings extend to the earth with grace whereas many others chose to trample over without hesitation, he fell deeply in love with that side of yours. You taught him many things and showed him many sides of humanity that he had never seen before. He even discovered an aspect of himself. Like breaking a geode, revealing the beauties held inside.

Zhongli couldn't look you in the eye when your expression was covered in disbelief. He thought he hid his feelings well but it seemed that he was expressing his love in subtle and subconscious ways that eventually drove you to fall for him as well. You didn't stop him when he left the bridge. He wasn't even in your house. He chose this, he chose to set you free from his heavy presence.

And as the weight started to lift from your shoulder, you sank to your knees and wept. It was cruel of him. To give you these emotions yet he could not bring himself to stay by your side. But your heart would not allow you to hate the man you love.

Things couldn't end this way. You had to say goodbye to him, see him one last time because if you didn't, these burdens will haunt you forever.

When Zhongli looked up to the sky he saw his ending drawing near.

Three days had passed since he last spoke with you and he had no plans in seeing you again. Soon, the former god will return to his rightful place. Even though he had already given his gnosis to the Cryo Archon as Liyue already began to enter a new era, it seems that his decisions weren't his to make as he was born in a world where stars ruled above the archons. Fate-- they won't allow it. He does not belong here. If there was one thing Zhongli regretted during his time in your world, it was that he couldn't leave you a good memory before taking his departure. The sight of your large glassy eyes and quivering lips when he crushed you with the truth, he sincerely believed that they would haunt him much more than it probably did to you. But perhaps things would be easier if you despised him. Because if he had stayed and you came to forgive him, he would no longer have the strength to let go.

Despite it all love was indeed a selfish creature. He couldn't help but feel resentment towards the stars for bringing you into his life in such a mockingly sweet manner. They tied him with a contract, made him vow to his own beliefs and tested them by using you-- a bystander struck between the crossfire, eventually bringing you down into the depths of his battlefield and he thought that maybe...maybe there was hope that he could bring you with him as well.

How disgraceful for a god to let the devil tempt him so.

Zhongli was thankful that you weren't beside him. Otherwise he would dance with the ugly hope of a slim chance for you to come along. This was the best choice. It was for his-- your own good.

"Zhongli!"

The arch of his lined eyes shot upwards. As if fate had decided to give him one final test, he felt your small figure crash into him from behind and your arms coming to hug around his waist, tightly and fearfully that he felt like you would be the one who would slip away instead.

"I...I made it time," you panted, burying your nose into his clothed back, "I’m so glad...I'm so glad you're still here…!"

Your cry of relief was a thunder to his ears, a reminder that he was the main cause. Zhongli, casted by solemn smile, lifts his hand to cover over yours and grasped onto them, I'm here, he wishes to say. Yet he knew they were only temporary promises, "To come all this way despite everything that has happened. You foolish girl..."

"It's your fault Zhongli, I'm a fool because I love you! It's all your fault that I have to say goodbye," You grit your teeth as the tears fell down your face until it blended into his clothes, "Take me with you. Please. Don't leave me all alone…!"

The words he wanted to say melted into a silent gasp through parted lips. Zhongli merely clenched them back together and his hand on your hand, even tighter. He won't lie to you. At the very least, let his actions speak for him where he himself could not.

Take me with you.

Don't leave me alone.

Goodbye.

If it is fated Morax...we will meet again.

"I see," letting his thoughts echo in his mind from the distant memories, the former god begins to take a new perspective upon his wisdom, "For many years, I have experienced countless farewells from the people I've come to known," Zhongli reminisced, tilting his head back with his golden eyes against night, as if searching for some sort of answer, "And yet I never thought what it must have felt like being in their position."

"Zhongli…" you trailed off, "Then don't! I may not know everything about you but it doesn't have to be this way. At least, just answer me this, will I ever see you again?"

"I'm sorry (Y/n)," he apologized and you knew the answer. He gently pries your arms off him, turning around so he could swipe the corner of your eyes dry. There was a glowing reverence in his countenance, one that he reserved for you and only you, it was the only way for him to express the feelings that run deep in his heart, "I cannot thank you enough for coming into my life. If there will be a day when I erode from your memories, I truly hope that you will find someone more suitable than I."

"That's ridiculous," defiantly, refusedly, you protest, "No one can replace you."

Zhongli laughs sadly as the white halo outlines his whole figure, signaling that there wasn't much time left. He wonders if there was anything he could do in his last moments, a small token, something, it could even be as small as a single star in the sky, "If it is fated...we will meet again."

You watch him turn transparent until he slipped from your grasp. No longer was the man, only the dust being one with the sky. They shone brilliantly but you were left in the darkness.

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mandoalorian · 4 years

Text

I Believe In Love [Maxwell Lord x F!Reader] — One: Direction

Summary: When you find your calling to leave Themyscira, you venture out to the World of Man with intentions of helping and healing a very specific person's relationship with his son. You've heard his voice before, but only in dreams. You've felt his pain and anguish and you've never been able to relate to anything more. But things don't come easy for you, and they certainly don't come easy for him either. [This series contains spoilers for WW84 and is my interpretation of what happens after the movie ends].

Taglists (let me know if you wish to be added!)—

Permanent: @supernaturalgirl @phoenixhalliwell @ah-callie @luvzoria @stardust-galaxies @wickedfrsgrl @goth-topic @nerdypinupcrystal @wonderfulfluffer @kiwi-the-first @pedroepascal @castiel-barnes @honeymandos @rocketqueen @ladycumberbatchofcamelot @dybalalover10 @girl-obsessed-with-things @elena-myth

I Believe In Love: @mrschiltoncat @thebloodrobin @greatvaluedazzler @bxxbxy @marydjarin @the-feckless-wonder @typicalnerd98 @biharryjames @thwiso

Rating: 15+

Word count: 4,700>

Masterlist

Previous - One - Next

"I wish to travel to the world of man," you announced with a deep breath and a confident smile. Hippolyta looked at you and laughed. Her Amazonian guards copied the actions of their queen and burst into a fit of giggles that made you feel like a silly small child.

"And where has this outburst come from?" Hippolyta asked with a quirked eyebrow as she folded her arms across her chest. The laughing slowly quietened down as she waited for a response.

"I've been having these dreams," you began to explain hesitantly. Hippolyta leaned forward in her throne and looked at you quizzically, making a small gesture with her hand that urged you to continue. "I've been seeing death and destruction, I've been watching the world of man crumble…"

"You want to travel to a collapsing society? Don't be foolish, that doesn't sound safe. Why leave the beautiful walls of Themyscira to travel to the world of man?" You had heard stories about the world of man and how it was filled with greed and corruption. Themyscira was peaceful. It wasn't that you wanted to leave, it was that you knew deep in your heart that your time had come.

Hippolyta was right. You looked around the palace that you had stepped foot in, the marble floor under your toes and the gold intricate details that patterned across the walls. "You let Diana." you mumbled under your breath, turning away from the queen and beginning to walk towards the double doors that you had entered through, ready to leave the palace.

"What was that?" Hippolyta asked, rising to her feet. You opened your mouth to answer but an excruciating pain shot through your head— and that's when you heard him. You heard his voice again. His pain. It wasn't just in your dreams anymore… you could feel him like he was there, with you, like he was part of you. You screamed and fell to your knees as tears spilled from your eyes, your fingers clenching into a fist so hard your knuckles turned white. The pain was so intense and you heard his words over and over again. Hippolyta ran over to you, sinking down to your level and cradling your weeping body in her arms. She called your name. "What is it?"

"He's calling for me," you choked back a sob. "The world of man is in grave danger."

"From who?" Hippolyta questioned, wiping your tears away as you tried to regulate your own erratic breathing.

"I don't know, but I must help." you gasped. "I must help him. Please allow me to go." you grabbed Hippolyta's arms and looked at her with pleading eyes. "You allowed Diana."

"Diana was a fighter, our best one," Hippolyta said slowly, shaking her head at the memory of her daughter. "You are not a fighter." She said the four words matter of factory but her denial made your anger rifle through your body.

"Maybe I can win this without fighting," you sobbed. "Yes, I have no training. I do not use a sword or a shield, but my mother taught me that battles can be won if we just use our heart. If we love." you felt like you were begging as you recalled Hestia's words to you. Your Themysciran tribe were of a peaceful nature, and although small, your leader, Aphrodite, preached about the power of love.

"Olympus and Eurydice loved and what happened to them?" Hippolyta scolded, her question rhetorical. You recalled the story in the back of your mind and winced, knowing their fate. "We are Amazonians. If the world of men needs saving, then Diana will save them. Go home my child, I forbid you from leaving Themyscira."

Your heart broke. You couldn't believe that Hippolyta was confining you to the walls of Themyscira. She didn't understand. She couldn't understand. It was only once in a turn of centuries did an Amazonian connect with someone from the outside world— and now, you had. You had made that connection, but Hippolyta forbade you from acting upon it. You composed yourself as you stormed out of the palace and hurried down the stone steps. Tightening the buckles on your gladiator sandals, you wiped your furious tears away and took a deep breath as the anger consumed you.

It wasn't fair. You had spent your childhood studying the world of man, learning about them and their ways. Nobody had cared more about helping others than you. Your desire to care for those around you came from your very own purpose. When Zeus sculpted you in his own image, he made you goddess of home and hearth. He gave you your abilities for a reason. Amazonian's outside your tribe shamed you for your kind and compassionate heart— telling you it was a weakness more than a strength. They belittled you and made you feel unworthy. As you remembered your childhood trauma, you pulled out your hair from your tiara. You lived on Themyscira your whole life but it never truly felt like home. You always craved for something more.

You ran home. You ran as fast as your feet could carry you, letting your tears fall and your screams of anguish echo through the Themsycrian forests. It wasn't fair. What did Hippolyta expect you to do? Deal with this for the rest of your life. How could you not help the man who's pain was destroying his very soul? The Gods had connected you and him for a reason. You had to go. You had to.

As soon as you arrived home you broke down. Your mother heard your cries and found you in the garden, picking at the native Themysciran flowers as your salty tears dropped on the lilac coloured petals. "Hippolyta denied your request?" Hestia asked, sitting on the wall next to you. You nodded sadly. "Sweet child, tell me more about these dreams. About this...man."

You didn't see the point now that you knew you wouldn't be able to leave Themyscira. But Hestia was your mother and you loved her dearly, and so you took a shaky exhale and done your very best to explain. "It feels like I've known him forever, like he's always been a part of me," you admitted. "But— I don't even know his name." you shrugged helplessly and cracked a small smile, listening to how pathetic you must've sounded. Maybe Hippolyta had a point. "I don't even know how he looks. Even if I did venture to the world of man, how could I possibly find him?"

Hestia sighed, unclipping her lasso from her tunic and wrapping it carefully around your wrist. You looked up at your mother, your eyes comically wide as the lasso glowed yellow. "Close your eyes, my child," Hestia whispered. "See him. See the truth."

You closed your eyes and let your soul space away as the lasso transported your mind to elsewhere. To him— the man of your dreams.

"Alistair?" Maxwell cleared his throat, his son's head snapping in the direction of his father. "That was your mother. She wants you home." Maxwell pointed aimlessly back at the telephone.

"But daddy, you promised the whole weekend together!" Alistair's eyes began to well up with tears. Maxwell ran to his son's side, his heart aching at the sight of disappointment and he pulled Alistair into his chest.

"I know, and I will keep my word," he hushed Alistair, smoothing out his hair. "Don't worry." Alistair nuzzled his face into Maxwell's dress shirt, sniffing in fear of losing his father again. There was a few beats of silence as Maxwell's brain ticked like clockwork, trying to work out what his ex wife's intentions were. "Does your mother… does she ever talk about me?" Maxwell asked hesitantly, unsure if he was about to regret the question.

"I hear her, sometimes. I hear her talk about you to Ted," Alistair admitted, referencing his mother's new boyfriend. Maxwell hummed, still stroking his son's hair. He wondered whether or not he should ask Alistair what exactly she said, but decided against it, not wanting to hurt his son anymore than he already had. He knew that Juliana had nothing good to say about Maxwell.

"Ted? I thought he liked to be called Theodore," Maxwell chuckled, rolling his eyes and Alistair giggled back. Max and Alistair would often joke about how pretentious Ted could be.

"Well now he wants me to call him dad," Alistair sighed, too young to understand the implications of that revelation. Maxwell's heart broke. Of course Juliana wanted her son to call her new boyfriend 'dad'. She got Alistair on the weekdays and Maxwell got him on the weekends, it was more than likely he saw Ted more than he saw Max, and Max knew for certain that Juliana's hatred was fueled further with his every breath. The prolonged silence urged Alistair to speak up. "But I told mom I won't."

"You did?" Maxwell smiled sadly. "Why?"

"Because you're my dad!" Alistair grinned. "And you'll always be my dad, no matter what."

Maxwell couldn't bring himself to reply. His stomach twisted into knots as he thought about Julianna's words over the phone. "You do not deserve him. I don't want you anywhere near my son ever again."

He knew the level of determination his ex wife possessed and if this meant she wanted sole custody of Alistair then Maxwell knew there would be very little that would stop her. He had messed up bad this time. Alistair felt tiny in Max's arms, but Max knew his son's heart was huge and filled with unconditional love. But the worry and guilt consumed him. How could Max possibly fight and win this case— after everything that had happened? He didn't even have the money for good lawyers. Maxwell whispered an incoherent 'I love you' into the crook of Alistair's neck, his shutting as a tear slipped down his cheek.

Your own eyes snapped open, your chest heaving and panting as the lasso of truth unravelled itself from your wrist. "What did you see?" Hestia asked, her eyes gleaming with curiosity. "Did you see the man of your dreams?"

You tried to process everything. "I didn't see him," you whispered feeling defeated. "But I heard his voice. And I learned his name. He's a father and he's afraid of losing his son," you explained, taking in everything you had learned. "And his son is afraid of losing his father."

"When you awoke last night, what did you hear?" Hestia asked.

"He was crying. He said he renounced his wish. I've been struggling to understand what exactly that means but…" you closed your eyes, remembering the dream like it was a perfect painting illustrating the patterns of your memory.

Hestia smiled wearily. "I always prayed to the Gods that you would not be chosen. My dear child, I love you so much, but it's clear that this man needs your help. You're the goddess of home and hearth, and Zeus blessed you with the ability to bring families together and that is your purpose. To live a life without serving your purpose— who would you be?"

"It doesn't matter," you sighed sadly, rubbing your eyes. "Hippolyta won't allow me to leave." you reminded your mother.

"I can help you leave Themyscira," Hestia cupped the side of your face with your hand, her thumb brushing over the height of your cheekbone. "But if you are to help this man there is something you must know."

"What is it?" you asked your mother, your eyes beckoning for answers.

"There were once two brothers; Romulus and Dolos. Their entities combined were a force of pure evil, but the brothers left Olympus to go to the world of man. When they left, Zeus gave them two magical citrine stones, and the brothers practiced their powers on the stones. Dolos went to a place called Greece, where Romulus travelled to Italy and built the city of Rome. Not much is known about the stones, but now, only one remains. We don't know which one or where it is, but it's dangerous."

"Why are you telling me this?" you furrowed your eyebrows together in bewilderment.

"The stones are indestructible, unless the power of the stone is harnessed by a person themselves. Then, the entity of the stone vanishes but the power lives in the person. The power of wish granting. If he has renounced his wish, that means…"

"...he's had a wish granted," you clicked on to what your mother was saying. "How do I find out which stone has been destroyed?"

"You need to find the man of your dreams and ask him who granted his wish," Hestia explained. "You must destroy the final dreamstone."

"But why?" You quizzed, your shoulders falling limp as you took in this abundance of information.

"Because Romulus and Dolos are the God of Lies." Hestia whispered, her hands falling from your shoulders as she clipped the lasso back to her tunic.

Your heart sank into your chest as the revelation hit you. "The God of Lies?" you repeated.

"If you go to the world of man then your purpose must be more than just helping this man and his son," Hestia told you. "You must find the final dreamstone and destroy it."

"How can I destroy the God of Lies?" you shook your head furiously. "No, nuh-uh, not happening. I can't even fight. I don't have any weapons— never trained. I can't do it. I can't." you scowled, standing up and brushing down your Amazonian dress, turning away from your mother. You felt her hand grab your shoulder.

"Remember what I taught you, my child. Battles can be won through the power of love," Hestia smiled. "If I didn't think you were worthy, then I wouldn't be allowing my only daughter to travel to the world of man. But I am because I believe in you. And I believe in love."

***

Maxwell couldn't focus on the video game anymore, shuffling around uncomfortably at the mere thought that Juliana and Ted could be on their way to collect Alistair for themselves. "Hey, how about we get some fresh air?" Maxwell asked, nudging Alistair playfully. "I think there are still some 4th of July celebrations happening in the park."

Alistair grinned ecstatically. "Really daddy? We haven't been to the park since… since… you were still with mommy!"

Maxwell scrunched up his nose and brushed off his sons comment. "Go grab your coat, okay?" he urged and Alistair bolted out the living room and into his bedroom.

Maxwell caught a glimpse of himself in the mirror. No amount of biotin was going to rid the dark circles from under his eyes. At least he had his health restored, but he hadn't thought of the implications of utilizing the government's multinational broadcasting service.

Every single citizen of the world had seen Maxwell. Knew him by name, by face. Maxwell had no idea how people were going to react upon seeing him again. He contemplated a disguise, but figured the best he could do was roll up his shirt sleeves to his elbows and brush out any hair product from his dark blonde locks. At least he wasn't wearing his signature tailored suit and ties. On the surface, he could just be mistaken for an ordinary guy. Maxwell Lord had never wanted to blend into society this much in his life.

The memory of how power corrupt he had become before Diana had saved him struck his heart like a dagger of guilt. But he couldn't regret. He had to think forward and think to the future if he wanted to change his errors.

Maxwell jumped when Alistair took hold of his father's hand and pulled him to the door. "Hey, let me help you zip your coat up." Maxwell smiled, kneeling down and making sure Alistair would be warm enough.

By the time they arrived at the park, it was as if nothing had happened. It was like the world had returned back to the way it was before all the death and destruction. Children squealed merrily as they played on the swing sets, families sat on the grassy fields eating picnics and vendors were serving hot dogs, burgers and cotton candy.

"Why don't you go play with the kids over there?" Maxwell pointed towards a group of children standing by the slide. "Daddy just needs a moment to himself, but then I'll come play. I promise." Max kissed Alistair on the forehead and Alistair nodded understandingly before racing off into the playpark.

Maxwell scratched the back of his head and took in the cool Summer air as evening began to dawn. He looked around at the happy families and figured it was something he could get used to. He imagined living a peaceful life outside of the spotlight. No fame, no money, just him and Alistair. But things didn't come easy for Maxwell Lord.

You woke up in a muddy puddle under a tree, groaning as the brown dirt stuck to your arms and legs. You looked down at your dress and tunic, thankful that the leather material could be washed easily. You smelt something unfamiliar yet distinct, your nostrils twitching as the scent of burgers and hotdogs from the vending vans engulfed you.

The screams of children alerted you and you looked over at the playpark, watching intently as the kids laughed and danced around. There wasn't many children back on Themyscira, but being the goddess of home and hearth; it filled your heart with joy and happiness.

You slowly walked over to the playpark, looking around at your awe inspiring surroundings. So this was the world of man? You beamed upon seeing the swans in the duck pond and the beautiful flowers that grew around the stone path you walked upon.

It was mesmerising, but your delight was cut short when you heard a thud followed by a child's cry. You looked over to see that, not too far away, a group of children had pushed a young boy to the ground. The boy fumbled to get to his feet but the children circled around him, pointing and calling him names. You walked over to the crowd of children and placed your hands on your hips. "Excuse me?" you called out and watched as the kids stiffened up and their circle disbanded. They ran away, shooting you a strange look before you could even say anything else. You extended your arm and helped the little boy to his feet. "Are you okay?" you asked, kneeling down to mirror his short height. The boy nodded sadly, his dark eyes glazed with tears. "What's your name?"

"Alistair." the boy mumbled, his cheeks heating up with embarrassment.

"That's a beautiful name," you gleamed before introducing yourself. Alistair smiled at the compliment.

"I like your costume," he pointed excitedly. "Are you a princess?" he pointed at your tiara which held back your hair.

"Something like that," you shrugged with a small laugh. "Are you here alone?"

"No, I came with my daddy." Alistair informed you, looking around as he tried to locate his father. Your gaze followed his and you watched the young child begin to panic as he couldn't find him anywhere.

"You can't see him?" you asked with an empathetic frown. Alistair burst into tears, holding his head in his hands. "Hey don't cry!" You pulled the child into you and hugged him tightly. "He won't be far. Come on, let me help you look for him."

"He-, he always leaves," Alistair sobbed and your eyes widened slightly. "But this time- this time he promised. No more leaving."

"You must believe in your father, okay?" you whispered, pulling Alistair's hands away from his face and wiping his tears. "Tell me, what does he look like?"

Alistair sniffed and grabbed onto your hand for support. "Strong," Alistair smiled. "Really really cool. Best dad in the world." you chuckled at Alistar's words, and how he had described his father's personality rather than his physical appearance.

"Do you remember what he was wearing?" you quizzed as you and Alistair exited the playpark and back down the stone path.

"Umm, a white shirt and grey pants," Alistair recalled. "He's on the television sometimes."

You furrowed your eyebrows together. "Television?" you asked curiously and Alistair nodded before gasping.

"Look! There he is!" Alistair screamed, pointing across the road into a store window, at a man with golden coloured hair and chocolate brown eyes. You swallowed the lump in your throat as you took in his appearance. The man shook his fists and nodded his head, grinning enthusiastically.

"That man on the screen over there?" you tilted your head as Allistair squeezed your hand and dragged you out of the park, across the road, and over to the shop.

"Yep, that's daddy!"

"Welcome to the future, life is good, but it can be better. And why shouldn't it be? Everything you've ever dreamed of is right at our fingertips. But are you reaping the awards? Do you have it all? Welcome to Black Gold Cooperative, the first oil company run for the people, by the people. Think about finally having everything you've always wished for. For a low monthly fee, you can own a piece of the most lucrative industry in the world. And everytime we strike gold, you strike gold! No matter who you are, no matter what you do, you deserve to have it all. Do you have everything you've always wanted? Aren't you tired of wishing you had more? Join me today. You don't need a pile of money or some business degree to get started. You don't even have to work hard for it. At Black Gold Cooperative all you need is to want it."

You were so hypnotized by the man's business scheme, you didn't even notice Alistair disappear. Your eyes widened as you looked around, desperately trying to find him. You called his name a few times, hoping he wasn't far.

Maxwell tugged on Alistair's arm and dragged him around a corner. "What are you doing?" Max hissed and Alistair looked away from his father nervously. "You don't talk to strangers, do you understand me?"

"I couldn't find you in the park, she was helping me look for you." Alistair explained, his voice timid.

"So why were you out of the park, huh? Standing outside a television store watching one of my-" Maxwell sighed. "-one of my infomercials?"

"I wanted to show her what you looked like," Alistair frowned. "I'm sorry daddy."

Maxwell leaned down and kissed his son's forehead. "It's okay, just please don't do that again, alright? This world is full of bad, dangerous people. You need to be careful." Maxwell said and Alistair nodded his head. Max slid his hand into Alistair's and walked him back into the park. "So, who was that woman anyway?" Maxwell asked, quirking his eyebrow.

Maxwell had barely managed to get a glimpse of you, but if your short warrior tunic was anything to go off, he figured you were someone hired to be in costume for one of the 4th of July celebrations. He didn't see your face, only the back of your head, but in the split second he saw you, he admired the way your hair gleamed under the amber setting sunlight and the shape of your body, how your dress sculpted it perfectly. He shook away the thoughts, reaching into his pocket and taking out his wallet as he approached an ice cream vendor.

"She was nice," Alistair smiled as he looked at the ice cream menu painting on the side of the van. "She told me she was a princess and she helped me." Alistair recalled the way his bullies ran away when you had come over.

"Helped you how?" Maxwell quizzed, pulling out a few dollar bills.

Alistair stiffened up, not wanting to tell his father about the bullies. He was afraid Max would be ashamed of him for not sticking up for himself. "Can I get a raspberry sundae?" Alistair asked his dad, brushing off his initial question. Maxwell nodded his head and slid the cash over to the vendor who began to prepare the ice cream.

"Hey, I'm looking for my friend Alistair?" you were asking plenty of people wandering the streets of DC the same question. "Do you know where Alistair is?"

Some people would reply with, "Alistair who?", but most people would look you up and down with disdain and hurry away. You wondered why nobody else was dressed like you, and why nobody knew who Alistair was. Back on Themyscira, everyone had their own individual, unique name and everyone knew who everyone was. You frowned. It clearly wasn't like that in the world of man. You needed a different tactic. You thought back to Alistair's description of his father and tried to remember the words he spoke on the television. "Welcome to Black Gold Cooperative."

"Do you know where Black Gold Cooperative is?" you asked an aging lady who was walking along the sidewalk.

She, like everyone else, looked you up and down in bewilderment. "The headquarters?" she asked. "East Avenue, about a ten minute walk away."

"Which direction?" you prodded further.

The woman blinked. "East." she repeated.

"Thank you." you smiled, curtseying politely before setting off to find this mysterious place that the man on the television spoke so highly of. If he was really Alistair's father, then maybe you could find Alistair there and ensure his safety. That's what really mattered.

You found it difficult to walk in your gladiator sandals, and the quality of the air made leather tunic chafe against your thighs. Nevertheless, you preserved, ignoring all the sky comments that were being made by passers by regarding your appearance.

Finally, you found yourself standing outside Black Gold Cooperative headquarters; the large building looming over you as a cold shadow hung above your head. Attempting to go through the revolving doors proved to be a challenge in itself, as there was no such creation back on Themyscira. After a few attempts of trying to push through you finally found yourself in the deserted lobby. "Welcome to the future," your head snapped up to the television on the wall, where the same infomercial you had seen in the store window was playing in the reception area. "Life is good, but it can be better."

You slid behind the main desk and placed your hand on the television screen, allowing your fingers to trace the man's face. It was that same charming smile and honeyed brown eyes you remembered. His hair was golden and styled perfectly, curling at the nape of his neck, like a fairytale prince you had read about in the storybooks of your youth. He was fitted in colourful patterned suits which accentuated his broad shoulders and every word glided off his tongue so sweetly. That's when it hit you— his voice. That was the feature that had attracted you to him. It was what brought you to him. It was the voice you had dreamt of, the voice you had heard over and over again. The voice that had brought you to the world of men. It was fate that had brought you to Alistair, something that could've only been written by the Gods. That man was the first man you had ever seen, and my oh my, he was something else.

#pedro pascal #pedro pascal x reader #maxwell lord #max lord #maxwell lord x reader #max lord x reader #ww84 #wonder woman 1984

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iscribble · 4 years

Text

pairing | lee donghyuck x reader genre(s) | fluff, suggestive, established relationship, a little friends to lovers (because that’s how it all started) word count | 4.2k summary | though subtle and often overlooked, lee donghyuck implicitly promises you that the little things he says (and the little things he does) are never void of love.

or,

you are his addiction and loving you might be, scratch that, is his newest. author’s note | i really wanted to work on this more but i have one final exam left and so i had no choice but to rush this. (also, im starting to think that i made this fic as an excuse to write all kinds of scenarios for haechan. like literally, it’s just so many things in one really short fic. i apologise.)

a reward for the victorious.

“You’re going down Mark Lee!”

Lee Donghyuck is ecstatic.

A knowing smile eases into your lips, the reason being the very boy who sits slanted in his desk chair, eyes trained on the same video game he’s been playing for days. You can hear the cavils that spew out of his red headset, but you can only see the rumpled strands of his ash brown hair (your boyfriend musses them too much when he gets frustrated). You hear the generous smile in his voice slowly turning into a deep, hearty cackle as he nears his victory. Lee Donghyuck can sit there laughing his head off at the most trivial things but he’ll still make you the happiest person on earth. You sigh at the thought.

Donghyuck abruptly stands the same time you hear Mark’s defeated screech. His hands are in the air, balled into fists as he stares at his screen for a little more to drink in the big letters that indicate his win. You can’t see it but you know there’s a magnified grin on his face. A silent chuckle falls from your lips as he disregards his headset on his shoulders. He turns around to meet your form, blanket pulled up to your waist and a pillow cushioning your back. He brings the microphone to his lips, letting Mark know he’s done for the day.

It’s only 10 p.m., he never finishes this early.

“Are you that sleepy?” You ask as he pulls you closer to him, legs tangled in yours and his arms around your waist. You stay upright against the headboard but you let him snuggle you, his brown locks tickling the exposed skin of your stomach.

“No,” he replies, looking up at you. “I just miss you a lot.”

“We’ve been together the whole day, Hyuck.”

“I know,” he tugs himself up and shifts behind you so you’d lay on his chest. “You’re just rarely awake whenever I win and this time you are, figured I would reward myself.”

“That’s because you take so long to win against Chenle,” you huff, pretending to be upset about it. “You’re lucky it’s Mark you’re against today.”

Donghyuck’s cheeks flush at your remark but his hold on you only fastens. “That’s not true!” He whines into your shoulder.

You turn around to face him, fingers immediately reaching around his nape to play with his hair. “Well then,” you tilt your head. “Here’s your reward.” You kiss him sleepily, but enough to make his heart race. Donghyuck leans forward and deepens the kiss until you’re laying on the soft covers and he’s hovering over you.

“You make me so happy,” he smiles, inches away from you.

“More than winning against the boys?” You raise an eyebrow.

“Shut up,” he playfully slaps your side. You poke your tongue out and he melts at the sight. “But yeah, more than winning against the boys.”

troubling nights.

“What’s wrong?” Your touch flutters above his wrist, careful not to startle him. The room is unlit, but you can make out the apprehensive look on his face and the vulnerability in his gaze. He zeroes in on the shadows that hang above your figures, eyes remain restless as they wander around the colourless expanse.

Donghyuck doesn’t reply much, breathing out a subdued whisper of your name. Your ears perk up at the fragility in his voice and you prop yourself up on one elbow beside him. He still doesn’t look at you but you let him be.

“I’m right here,” you like to pinch the glowing apples of his cheeks whenever he smiles, but this time they’re unfortunately level as he knits his brows. Though, when his eyes find yours, the creases across his forehead slacken.

“I don’t wanna lose you.” It seems as though it’s obvious with the way he treats you whenever you’re around, but Donghyuck never thinks it is. There are times when you notice he’s deep in thought, and you wonder if this is what’s on his mind every time you catch him absentmindedly biting his nails or when he looks like he’s ambling through his thoughts even when he’s just lolling on the sofa.

“What makes you think you’re gonna lose me?”

“I just,” he heaves a breathy sigh. Your eyes never leave his. “What if one day I wake up and you’re not next to me? What if.. what if you leave me for someone else? Someone way better than me?”

“I’ve never heard such nonsense from you.” You lay beside him with a dramatic plop. A smile graces your features like you haven’t just talked about the thought that’s been bothering him all night.

“Why are you smiling?” He notes your expression, yet a smile is slowly creeping across his face too.

“I just know that’s never gonna happen,” you tell him as your fingers tighten around his slender ones. “So I’m able to smile like this.”

Donghyuck traces the curve of your lips with his free hand. You turn to face him at the gesture, the solemn lineaments you hate to see now erased, like it’s never been there in the first place.

“You’re pretty when you smile.” Your boyfriend mutters, returning his gaze to your eyes.

“When I don’t?”

He pretends to think, head propped on his hand. “You still do, but you look like you’re gonna punch me or something.”

Before you can react to his words, he slips the hand that you’re holding out of your snug fingers and crosses both of his arms in front of him as though he’s shielding himself from you. You recognise the defensive pose—you’re so used to throwing pillows at him.

“Lee Donghyuck!” Incredulity crosses your face. “Honestly though, that’s what Renjun said to me the other day.” You would’ve gone with the habitual way of “taming” him if it wasn’t for Donghyuck’s quick reflex as he yanks the pillow in your deathly grip out of your hands.

“Only I’m allowed to say that about you!”

Donghyuck forgets about the particular reason he can’t sleep when you magically replace his thoughts with a charm of your own, a magnetism only you have that brings him falling harder for you. He figures he doesn’t have to worry when all he sees is reassurance in your smile that always seems to grow for him.

fogged minds and hooded eyes.

“Baby,” the lazy ring to his voice has you looking up from your phone, your eyes connected to Donghyuck’s sensual attention.

You return to the small screen in front of you, trying to dismiss whatever conjecture you have from the sight of his darkened eyes, even when his cold feet manage to rub lightly against your toes from the opposite side of the couch. “What’s up, baby,” you croon, ignoring Donghyuck’s restive eyes.

“Come here,” he sings, his desire for you growing but even then he remains in his position. When you only smile in return, he whines. “Baby come here.”

You observe him out of the corner of your eye. You don’t see him in this state often, slouched without his phone or anything that links him to his friends or the video game he prizes so dearly. Donghyuck’s only ever been this touchy after winning a game against one of the boys, or, when he’s horny.

You click your tongue, throwing your head back as your try to laugh the situation off.

“Do you know what you do to me?” The tone of his voice lowers.

“No, I don’t,” you hold back a giggle. “What do I do to you baby?” You toss your phone on the coffee table—teasing Donghyuck seems more amusing right now.

Your boyfriend thrusts his tongue into his cheek. He doesn’t believe you’re teasing him with the biggest half-moon on your face.

He gets up to walk towards where you’re sitting, his eyes tainted with lust. A mischievous grin replaces your previously huge smile as you look up at him from the couch, not wanting to break eye contact. When he lowers himself, knees on either side of you, you can smell the shampoo he’s been using—a fusion of citrus and apples which makes you succumb to his touch almost immediately, if not for the sudden realisation that you’re giving in too quickly.

Strands of his hair hang loose and cover his vision, but he is able to make out small details of your face just fine. You suppress an excited smirk the more he lowers himself towards you. “This,” Donghyuck says, as his body slowly steadies on top of yours, the feeling of his erection now prominent. “Is what you do to me baby.” Before you can say anything he aims for the delicate expanse of your neck, greedy and impatient. You angle your head in a way that grants him easier access to your skin, now littered with unchaste bruises. A fluid sigh escapes your lips as he kisses your jaw, not a single dry spot along the intricate curve. As soon as he’s quenched his thirst for your bare skin, he tugs you up so that you’re now sitting on his lap, fingers playing with the ends of his hair. You push away the strands that cover his eyes, and though it might seem like he’s given up treating his hair from how long it’s become, you don’t plan to cut it any time soon.

You only stare at each other for a few seconds, a mysterious twinkle in his irises and your teasing smile no longer apparent.

“Kiss me baby,” Donghyuck breathes out, the raspiness of his voice and the feeling of his hands moving up and down your sides give you barely any time to think. The space between your lips dwindles to nothing as you comply and kiss him with fervour.

Lee Donghyuck is eager—he does not let you breathe even when he takes your breath away. He holds you like he’s on the verge of losing you, but also as if you’re brittle and may break into pieces. Donghyuck kisses you with hunger, devours you with greed, revels in the taste of you. Your kiss is messy and sinful, but when it’s Donghyuck, there is always an inkling of sweetness.

“You,” he utters as he pulls away, but takes no time in closing the gap once more. “Are,” another amorous kiss. “So,” and another. “Fucking,” and another. “Beautiful.”

Now he is kind enough to let you breathe, because had it been any other night when you’re not idly passing time on the couch, Donghyuck would’ve had absolutely no second thoughts in sparing you any mercy.

“What should we do about this?” You follow his line of vision as it slowly approaches the tenting in his pants. You roll your eyes but a pang of realisation hits you as his grip on your hand tightens with every step he takes toward your shared bedroom.

You could say you spoke too soon. It was brave of you to assume that this night isn’t going to be that kind of night.

lee donghyuck is quite literally drunk in love.

This is the fourth time you’ve seen Donghyuck haul himself up the kitchen island, knocking down several red solo cups and staring at the ooze of pink liquid—one you can only assume as fruit punch—down the chamfered edge of the marble worktop.

You painfully watch the people in his vicinity encourage his pretend concert and join in on his off-key singing. You feel a nudge on your arm, and you turn around to see Jisung with a perky grin plastered on his face.

“So that’s your boyfriend huh?” He retorts jokingly while juggling two cups of fruit punch. He takes a seat beside you.

A chuckle collapses from your lips. You take one cup from his hand. “Think it’s time he tones it down?”

Jisung only shrugs, a look of admiration on his face as he looks at your boyfriend. “He’s living in the moment,” he says after chugging down his drink and sighing in content. “But he probably won’t remember tonight.”

You take that as a reminder of how drunk he is and waste no time in approaching the herd of dancing bodies.

“Hey, hey, you, on the table,” you snap your fingers at him, “come, you’re done.”

“Baby!” He slurs, evidently drunk. “The fun’s only just begun!” Donghyuck bends down to pull you up with him but you are able to reach his arm faster and tug him down. Donghyuck reluctantly groans but does not resist.

The absence of warmth as you step out the house almost compares to the feeling of sticking your whole body inside a freezer. The numbing effect threatens to conquer your senses but the change of scenery makes up for it. Relieved of all the bodies mingling together like you’re inside a pack of gummy bears, you help your boyfriend into the passenger seat of his car because there’s no way he would be driving like this.

You decide that the ride home shouldn’t be this quiet, with only the drone of the engine fending off the chance of a silent ride back. You turn the radio on, switching through channels until you settle on one that currently blasts Amy Winehouse’s Valerie. Adjusting the cold button, you turn the volume up until the reminiscent song counterbalances the sound of his car.

Though, almost immediately, Donghyuck brings his hand up to cover yours as he slowly turns the control to the left until the rough hums of the engine enter your ears again.

You raise an eyebrow, letting him lace your fingers together. “Sure don’t want any music after the quote unquote concert you threw?”

Donghyuck only sighs. A smile blooms on the attractive canvas before you. “You’re pretty.” He looks at you dreamily.

You’re still not used to the little compliments he’d throw no matter how much he says it, no matter how much it sounds like that’s the easiest thing to say.

“You’re drunk.” You roll your eyes and bring a hand up to turn the volume on. “Plus, you say that all the time Hyuck.”

“And I mean it every single time.”

Donghyuck’s eyelids grow heavy and his words become more garbled the more he tries to talk with you. His left hand takes comfort in your right as you drive him back, and once in a while you feel him squeeze, a faint smile apparent on his lips.

Even when he’s drunk, he’s still so in love with you.

jealousy almost gets the better of him.

The air is stiff as the pendant lights in your kitchen go on with a click but you abstain from soothing the swelling tension, instead opting for little refreshment in the fridge. You are, to say the least, drained of all vitality—a wedding reception that goes on for six hours is sure to bereft you of all energy, especially when you spend most of the night dancing, and to Donghyuck’s dismay, rather closely to an old friend, Jeno.

It is not to your surprise that he broaches the subject once it is only the two of you, though you really are scarce of any strength to argue.

“He looked more like your boyfriend than me.” Donghyuck advances, tone a little harsh.

You push your hair back and keep your hand on your brow as it creases, partly from enervation but mostly from annoyance.

“Hyuck,” you set the small carton of banana milk on the countertop. When your eyes trail to Donghyuck, he’s already looking at you from across the table, his usual sunny profile out of sight. His blazer is set aside on the couch, donning only a tight button up with the sleeves rolled up to his elbow. “You know he’s a childhood friend and we haven’t seen each other for ages, can you blame me for wanting to spend some time with him?”

Donghyuck closes his eyes, patently from ire, but deep down he knows it’s irrational. Still, his ego is a big part of him and he doesn’t want to acquiesce. “Then why didn’t you ask him to be your date for the wedding instead?”

“Because I actually have a boyfriend.” You state the obvious, walking towards your room, the sound of your footsteps growing faint. Donghyuck follows behind you. “You’re being unreasonable, let’s not argue over something this childish. It’s not like I completely deserted you back there.”

“But you’re practically all over him!”

“He has a girlfriend, Hyuck,” you strip off your obsidian-coloured velvet silk dress, your bare back exposed to Donghyuck’s sight. “But that’s not even the point. Girlfriend or not, you really shouldn’t be jealous.”

After putting on one of his big t-shirts, you scramble to bed, not bothering to wipe off your makeup. Although Donghyuck is still a little furious, he softens at his favourite sight —you in one of his things.

“What are you doing?” You are about to pull the blankets up to your chin but stop halfway when the question arises.

“Sleeping?” You answer, muddled at his attitude. “Are we gonna argue about this too?”

Donghyuck does not reply, instead he leaves for the bathroom. You are visibly confused but are too tired to even think of a reason for his behaviour.

Out of the blue, you feel a gentle, wet stroke on your cheek. Not too harsh but enough to bring you to your senses.

“What are you doing?”

Donghyuck sits on the edge of your bed, a pack of cotton pads on his lap and a hand outstretched to remove traces of makeup on your face.

“You say the universe hates you because you always wake up to a new set of acnes, yet here you are sleeping with your makeup on,” he says rather sullenly, though you find it cute.

You unwittingly release a snort and Donghyuck glares at you. He forces your eyes shut as he erases blue powder off the stretch of your heavy lids. You hum quite drowsily, fingers immediately reaching for Donghyuck’s free hand.

“I need this for the thing,” he mumbles as he nods toward the bottle of acetone. You arch an eyebrow. Donghyuck thinks he’s being discreet about it, but you do notice that he’s still jealous and is letting you know in the subtlest ways.

You retract your hand, figuring that he does need his other hand to clean your makeup anyway. Donghyuck feels your tentative motion and silently draws your hand back to his. His eyes don’t leave your cheek although you know it's because he’s too afraid to look into your eyes. A timid smile plays on your lips while Donghyuck’s thins, concealing every inch of guilt he has.

You suppose you’re alright like this—he’s cute when he’s jealous.

Everything has a start.

Before the matching carmine crochet socks, diamond kites that rove about the clouds on a breezy afternoon, blueberry pomegranate popsicles that paint your lips an old mauve, the littered kisses on your neck, the soft snores that meld in the air, before all the lazy, lingering mornings safe in each other's arms—Donghyuck confesses that he likes you.

Maybe not intentionally, but his friends tell him it’s overdue anyway.

He plays an upbeat song on his guitar as if it’s heartbreaking and dramatic, a summery ditty like it’s a sad ballad. The lyrics that leave him are unhurried, falling into the cadence he purposely alters with the slightest, devilish smile playing about his lips and theatrical expressions that are impossible to ignore. His playful eyes only leave the strings to look at you—to laugh at you.

“What’s so funny!” You cry out rather than ask. An exaggerated frown lingers on your face, unimpressed by the absolute foolery across you. Donghyuck can be a little annoying, especially when he’s turning your favourite song into a funny-sounding (but not actually funny) ballad.

“What’s with your face?” He pauses to wipe a minute tear, attestation to how all out he’s been laughing.

You throw your head back with a pronounced groan, though a sheepish smile quickly replaces your sullen countenance. “Stop,” you throw a pillow at him, running out of options to silence the boy whose guitar now lies on the cotton rug. “It’s not funny.” Donghyuck’s hearty laughs slowly recede but he’s being painfully obvious on stifling a giggle.

“God, I love you.”

You don’t remember hearing “God, I love you.” in your favourite song.

Donghyuck realises what he’s done. The words sound artless, and he knows this: there is no room for denying when he doesn’t even have to think—when all of it happens like a subconscious addiction. Because it really is. He would repeat the words like he’s memorising, but he doesn’t need to when he knows it. They recur in his head so many times until they’re spilling out of his lips.

You are his addiction and loving you might be his newest.

But you are immaculately dense, another foible Donghyuck once teased you for when everyone’s patently orchestrating a surprise birthday party for you and you still fail to notice. You are especially gullible this time for two reasons: one, you’re trying to ignore the fact that you do like him, because two, he can never feel the same way about you.

In all honesty, having Donghyuck as your boyfriend sure does sound tempting.

“You messed up the lyrics,” you say, bewildered (but more bewildered at yourself for saying this). “There’s no ‘God, I love you’ in there.”

The boy across you only blinks. He’s become uncharacteristically quiet.

“I know,” Donghyuck clears his throat. “It’s not part of the song.”

“So as a friend then?” You now sit upright with your arm thrown across the back pillows.

“Huh?”

“You said you love me?”

Despite his trembling hands, Donghyuck nods casually.

“As a friend though, right?”

The sound of his heel accidentally thumping his guitar jolts you out of your perplexity. Your friend curses under his breath, clearly uneasy.

“Fuck, no,” he avoids eye contact, choosing to sneak a look at the broken filament light bulb on the ceiling. “I actually, actually love you. More than a friend.”

You shift in your place, now facing the lurid letters on the spine of your book that read How to Find Love 101—considering the situation you probably won’t need it anymore. You almost snicker at yourself.

In the short-lived seconds you are bold enough to look at him, Donghyuck seems like a burden’s been lifted off his shoulders.

“I think,” you start, playing with the hem of your sleeves. “I think I might be in love with you too.” You try to smother the smile that’s begging to manifest but give in when you turn to your right and see Donghyuck riveting his eyes on you with the biggest grin.

“Are you serious?” He asks, picking up a throw pillow in his way and slowly scooting closer to you.

You’re not sure how to react to the sudden proximity but Donghyuck assumes you are serious about your feelings for him as evinced in the shy curvature of your lips. So he really doesn’t wait for an answer before he starts taking your hands in his, prompting you to face him and leave the poor hardback you’ve been staring daggers at alone.

“So this is what it’s like to have you accepting my confession,” He whispers somewhat to himself. “I’ve planned out scenarios in my head of how I was going to confess to you, I never thought it’d turn out this way.”

“After you practically ruined my favourite song.”

“After I practically ruined your favourite song.” He laughs freely, still finding the situation quite funny. Even so you couldn’t be happier, being with him now that you know he’s your lover feels like you’ve finally found your safe haven.

You look down at your hands that are intertwined on his lap, the sweet significance that you belong to each other. He lets go of your hand to tilt your chin up with his forefinger and lace them back together. “I promise to make you the happiest person in the world.”

And Lee Donghyuck is a man of his word.

Donghyuck would tell you that you make him the happiest even when all you do is sing out of tune. He would steal kisses when you’re not looking and slip in compliments between them because he loves catching you off guard. He would give up any day (even spending time with the guys) just to be in your arms, his favourite place. Even when he’s upset, you could see that he tries to not let it overpower him. When he’s utterly jealous and almost loses it, he still treats you like a princess and sometimes you think you don’t deserve him. On the nights he’s terrified that you might leave him, you make him forget why he ever was in the first place and he loves you for that. At the end of the day, when your bodies are connected, moving as one through the whispers of wind, he knows he wouldn’t have it any other way. He wouldn’t—he couldn’t—dare imagine a world without you.

So the little things he says to you and the little things he does, Donghyuck promises that they’re never empty of love.

You (and loving you) are his addiction and it will stay that way, perhaps, forever.

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blasphemous-tiefling · 3 years

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I think part of the reason why there’s so much discord in the MCU fandom has something to do with the varying directors for TFA, The Avengers, Winter Soldier, AOU, Civil War, Infinity War, and Endgame. And really, the backbone of the issue is how the different directors and how the audience interprets Steve’s character. Strap in. Because this is a long rant on a topic that normal people really don’t care about.

Joe Johnston created a Steve Rogers that was eager, begging to go to war. I absolutely adored the line in AOU when Steve says, “What kind of monster would let a German scientist experiment on them to protect their country?” Because I feel that sums up Steve in TFA pretty well. He’s anti-bully. He wants to fight. But his whole life he’s been put down, stomped on. Steve repeatedly enlisting is both selfish and selfless. His conversation with Bucky in TFA is a great example of this. Steve says, “There are men laying down their lives. I got no right to do any less than them. That’s what you don’t understand. This isn’t about me.” And Bucky says, “Right. Because you’ve got nothing to prove.” And that’s it. Yes, Steve wants to fight because he’s always been bullied and doesn’t want anyone else to feel that way. Yes, Steve wants to fight because he wants to defend his country. But also Steve wants to fight because no one has ever given him a chance. Steve wants to fight because he wants his life to mean something. Steve wants to die in battle because he thinks it’s honorable. He wants to prove himself. Steve wants it so desperately for both selfless and selfish reasons, which is why he was so willing to take the serum despite the fact that Erskine told him about past failures. There’s even a certain selfishness to his sacrifice at the end of TFA. Many stories that involve sacrifice ride the line of selfishness and selflessness. By sacrificing himself, you could argue Steve is taking “the easy way out.” He’s distraught over Bucky’s death. He’s won the battle he’s been fighting since getting the super soldier serum. By sacrificing himself, Steve can effectively end the troubles caused by the Tesseract and leave without dealing with the consequences of his sacrifice. This point is a bit of a stretch, and not something that I personally agree with, but the thought it there.

Joss Whedon takes that selflessness and turns it into irrefutable righteousness, and it’s disgusting. Steve has a few goofy lines in The Avengers and AOU that I’ll laugh at, but ultimately, everything he does seems so out of character for him. His constant nagging and arguing with Tony is so unnecessary and doesn’t build friendship. His desire to do everything S.H.I.E.L.D. tells him to do is completely incorrect because Steve went against the military and broke the 107th out of the Hydra facility without permission and repeatedly did whatever he wanted without asking. His incessant need to have all the Avengers do as he says is totalitarian and unbearable to watch. Truthfully, this is where I think people misunderstand Steve the most because not everyone watches every solo movie. The Avengers movies are the biggies that most people won’t miss. So general audiences only see this righteous, dictator Steve Rogers and that really pisses me off.

This is one of the only times you’ll hear me praise the Russos, so get ready- Thank goodness Winter Soldier and Civil War follow Joe Johnston’s characterization of Steve. They even dig into his selfishness and rebellious streak, which I adore. Steve isn’t one to just blindly follow orders. Hello? Does “not a perfect solider but a good man” ring any bells? Perfect soldiers follow orders. Good men fight for what’s right even when the world is telling them not to. That’s who Steve Rogers is. What I adore about Winter Soldier so much is that we see Steve attempting to be this perfect soldier, but it’s just not sitting well with him. Something is fishy and weird. He talks to Peggy about her life. She says her only regret is that Steve didn’t get to live his. Steve talks to Sam about possibly getting out of government work. Sam is that representation for Steve- having a hard time finding out why he’s really in it to begin with. The entire film is about Steve going against the government, military, and S.H.I.E.L.D. with both selfish and selfless desires. He knows he needs to do something because Hydra is growing in S.H.I.E.L.D. but he also doesn’t want anything to do with it anyway, so why not tear it all down? Once Bucky is revealed as the Winter Soldier, Steve puts his life on the line to try to get him back. It’s selfish really. When Steve takes off his helmet and drops his shield, he made the decision to die because he wasn’t gonna continue to live without Bucky. Despite the fact that Steve made friends with Natasha and Sam, he didn’t care. All that mattered to him in that moment was James Bucky Barnes. This is very reminiscent of TFA when Steve breaks Bucky out of the Hydra lab. As the world’s only successful super soldier, Steve could’ve been very valuable to the American government and military. He was even doing mild good by helping sell bonds. But that didn’t matter. His country and his military was no longer priority number one. When it comes to Steve Rogers, nothing and no one means more to him than Bucky. Steve and Sam’s conversation that I previously mentioned also parallels this. After Sam lost Riley, he didn’t want to be in the military anymore. He said he felt like he was up there just to watch, nothing he could do. This is a direct parallel to how Steve feels about Bucky.

Civil War, while a trash movie, sticks with Steve’s selfish yet selfless motivations. “What if this panel sends us somewhere we don’t think we should go? What if there is somewhere we need to go and they don’t let us?” Not wanting to surrender his right to choose is Steve Rogers. He just put down S.H.I.E.L.D.- an organization that was giving him demands. Why would he sign his life away to the American government again? Corporations can be run by greed and corruption- something Steve doesn’t want the world to be full of but also something he doesn’t want his world to be ruled by. When Bucky is framed for killing King T’Chaka, Steve knows the Accords will bring Bucky in and possibly execute him. He can’t let that happen. And he asks Natasha not to get in his way because he doesn’t want anyone else to get hurt. He knows how dangerous Bucky can be, but he doesn’t want Bucky or anyone else getting hurt or in trouble due to this sticky Accords situation. Both selfish and selfless. I don’t even want to get into later in the film, but I guess I will. Guys, there’s no world, no universe, no place in time that Steve wouldn’t try to stop Zemo. Tony never even gave him the chance to explain himself. It was either, “Come with us or we fight.” Steve gathered that team together- not to fight Tony but to fight Zemo. It was never his intention to fight with Tony. He was just trying to stop Zemo. Now, when Tony learns about his parents’ death, anger is a valid emotion. Physically fighting and attacking Steve and Bucky to the point of death? Not valid or even remotely reasonable. It makes no sense as to why Tony would be that angry at Bucky- someone who was tortured and brainwashed to do what he did. Steve had his reasons for not telling Tony considering that when it comes to Steve Rogers, nothing and no one means more to him than Bucky. Of course, Steve was going to hide the truth from Tony in an effort to protect Tony, Bucky, and himself. Selfish yet selfless.

Infinity War gives us the glorious lines of “I’m not looking for forgiveness. And I’m way past asking permission. Earth just lost her best defender. So we’re here to fight. And if you wanna stand in our way, we’ll fight you too.” and “We don’t trade lives.” These lines beautifully sum up Steve’s rebelliousness and need to fight while also not risking others’ lives. He’ll always risk himself first. There’s not much to say about this film considering it’s mostly action and Steve shares the screen with just about every other superhero, so we’re not given a lot of time. But overall, the Russos kept that same Steve Rogers.

And then Endgame does a complete 180 and decides to serve us Joss Whedon’s Steve with a conservative, pro-military, unbelievably illogical twist. Steve’s obsession with Peggy in this film is so out of place. She would’ve died seven years prior in the MCU. Steve’s been living in the present with Natasha, Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and T’Challa. That was his family. He lost Sam, Bucky, Wanda, Vision, and T’Challa in the Infinity War. It only makes sense that he would be fighting for them in Endgame. Yet he’s not. We’re beat over the head about how much he misses Peggy and it’s so unbelievably weird. Steve is never allowed to mourn Sam and Bucky specifically despite the fact that they were his number one companions. He never mentions them. Never has a touching reunion with Bucky. Barely has any reaction to Natasha’s death. It’s disgusting honestly. This is not “I will fight to my death for the people I love” Steve Rogers. And the ending is the most pathetic of all. There’s no world, no universe, no place in time that Steve would willingly go almost a hundred years away from Bucky and Sam, somewhere he wouldn’t fight for others. “Pretending you could live without a war.” I mean, come on. He’s Steven Grant Rogers. It’s disgusting to paint him as this man who would throw away his friendships and a world that is being bullied all for some girl he kissed once and barely knew. No. No, no. Not my Steve Rogers.

I give the directors a little too much crap. I’m fully aware that a whole team of people make these movies, but you can’t deny that Steve changes from movie to movie depending on the director. Endgame is the exception in which the directors were the same, yet they diverged completely from their original interpretation of the character. I’ve heard people say that it had to be an anti-gay agenda- that ending Steve’s story with Bucky would’ve been too gay even if they weren’t romantically involved, but I still think that’s pathetic. Honestly, I would’ve rather seen Steve die than have his character trashed and pooped on like this. From a narrative perspective, what happened in Endgame is not okay. Marvel Studios’ treatment towards “sideline” characters like Natasha, Rhodey, Sam, and Bucky- particularly in Infinity War and Endgame- is not okay. Yeah, I’m aware I get too heated over this fictional universe. But the characters are the only reason I stick around. The stories are lackluster for me. I’ve never been one to watch movies for action sequences. But I’ve always been in love with Steve Rogers as a character- complicatedly riding the line of selflessness and selfishness, dedicating himself wholeheartedly to a cause and to the people he loves. When in the end that character was completely scrapped and shredded in the garbage disposal like crust on bread or the skin of an apple, I’m gonna be angry for a long time.

#why throw away steve’s character?#sorry but I’m just not over any of it #anti endgame #mcu #marvel #steve rogers #captain america #the first avenger #winter soldier #civil war #I’ve seen every marvel property #but I hate #marvel studios #rant #honestly this rant was just for me #may delete later

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fantasyinvader · 3 years

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Beat Binding Blade tonight

So, right off the bat I'm going to admit. I abused the arena and save states. This is a really, really hard game. And while I enjoyed it, I'm going to give three things I didn't like about it.

1)Enemy reinforcements arrive at the end of the player phase, and can attack during the enemy phase. That is unfair, especially when I assume that parking a unit on the spawn point will prevent them (It doesn't) or my healer just happens to be in the area. I like difficult games, but when I fail at something in those I want to feel like it's my fault for doing so. When I die in Bloodborne or lose a unit in Fates Conquest, I'm willing to accept it because I felt it was fair (plus I'll just restart the chapter in Conquest anyway). I could have not died if I had played a little better. This game was not fair when it did that.

2)The supports. A lot of the stuff about the characters is locked away in their supports, since this is one of the old Fire Emblems where it throws units your way because it's assuming you didn't reset the game when one died. They don't get cutscenes to be important, and with only five supports per character (barring if one dies, then any unit that had supports with gets those supports back). And even then, getting an A rank doesn't pair up any units except for Roy. So you don't get to play love doctor here, it's only really there for the stat boosts. But in the case of my boy, he needs those supports in order for his character to fully come through.

3)I can take 8 units into the final battle, and they're the only ones who get full ending cards. Everyone else just gets a single line. Kinda weak if I use someone like Fir for most of the game, but bench her at the end to give Rutget Durandal.

Even with my cheating, I still enjoyed this game. Mostly for the story. When Fire Emblem first appeared in Smash Brothers Melee, as a kid it instantly caught my attention. Roy and Marth just looked so cool with their swords and armor (true fact: My favorite design for Link is the Skyward Sword design, simply because it has chainmail under the tunic. I get it, the tunic is iconic but SS's Link just looks practical), and I preferred Roy because I though his fully-charged shield breaker hurting him was cool. I even keep a Cipher card of his in my wallet for good luck. I wanted to know what Fire Emblem was, what kind of game it was. My friend showed me a screenshot of the upcoming GBA game in Nintendo power, which I got for the following Christmas (sadly, I didn't get Sacred Stones as I got a PS2 the following year). I loved that game, but the idea that I was playing as Roy's father always was a bit of a sour point for me. It's because of that game when I got a 2DS a decade later, because I wanted to game but kept getting pulled away from my console, I eventually went back to Fire Emblem.

And, I'm going to admit, Binding Blade hurt me because I played Blazing Blade first. It really did. I mean, Hector dies early on, Lyn is presumably dead hell a lot of my old comrades probably died in this war, Eliwood's wife dies shortly after they are married while Eliwood is more useless than ever, the kid I saved in Bern becomes a genocidal maniac, and the fact that the characters of Blazing Blade kinda caused this to happen by releasing the seals on the Legendary Weapons in their own quest... It kinda bugs me that the Legendary Weapons I used in Blazing Blade are in their trap filled storage places. Like, who returned them there? And if I have characters from that game returning in Binding, I find it strange they don't comment on needing them again. But this is a case of the game trying to be a prequel to a story that wasn't written with it in mind.

But at the end of the day, one thing just kept popping up in my mind. Binding Blade is the antithesis of the Crimson Flower route from Three Houses. I know they said Genealogy of the Holy War was an inspiration, but I can't help it. I've seen so many people try to praise that said route as some sort of denouncement of the rest of the franchise. That it's about putting power in the hands of the people (it's not) instead of having some Lord be the good king. Granted, the Mandate of Heaven seems like it's a running theme of the series, so without understanding what that is I can understand why people don't grasp what that part of the message. But Binding Blade, it just hit so many things on the nose that I needed to say something.

So without further adieu, I'm just going to bring up a few points.

With Regards to Humanity

It's interesting how both Zephiel and Edelgard come at this from different angles. Sure, they both lead wars of conquest across the entire continent, and I'm guessing Zeph didn't tell his troops what he was planning on doing once he won so there's likely a level of deception going on there as well. He really doesn't care for his fellow man, and the game goes out of it's way to show us why. Hatred, greed, or even selling out your people in the name of self-preservation. The game doesn't shy away from showing us any of this, saying that it's wrong and thus why Roy has to kick some guy's arse. Zephiel knows this, but in Edelgard's case? She's out there fighting for absolute power, destroying anyone who won't bend the knee to her while those who do out of self-preservation like House Gloucester are rewarded for it.

In essence, Edelgard is everything Zephiel saw wrong with the human race, she is why he felt we needed to go extinct. The very things he condemns humanity for are the things she reward. Zephiel would have actually handed over power to those he felt deserved it if he had won, whereas Edelgard is demonstrably shown to hold onto power until near the end of her life. One wants humanity dead, the other wants all the dragons. They even oppose each other in their classes. Edelgard is based on the red emperor archetype, she wears red, her class is the heavily-armored Emperor and her weapon of choice is an axe. Zephiel is a king, armoed but wearing purple and he uses a sword in battle.

Even if they both have screwed up history with their family's due to their father's inability to keep it in his pants, they're both presented as villains despite being ideologically opposed which goes to show with Fire Emblem the method IS the message.

Ancient Wars, Super Powered Weapons and Lies.

War of Heroes vs. The Scouring. The former is an event where the full details are shrouded in mystery, up to the player to piece together the clues and figure out the truth for themselves...or in Crimson Flower's case, ignore the truth and act out in your ignorance.With Binding Blade though, when the truth starts coming out, it hits hard. I mean, right from the beginning of the game we're told man was the one who broke the peace by attacking the dragons, but then we learn that those legendary weapons messed up the environment, resulting in dragons needing to use human forms only to be slaughtered by man. Dragons were blamed for the environment, the people who used those weapons were revered as heroes. We don't know why mankind launched their attack, but we do know that they weren't able to slay the Demon Dragon, one who had her soul destroyed in order to control her, because the Heroes felt sorry for her. It's making dragons out to be the victims here, much like the dragons in Three Houses. But Crimson Flower only serves to demonize them, acting like they can't understand humanity when the dragons in that game are a lot closer to humans emotionally than the ancient dragons in Elibe.

The Elites in comparison weren't heroes, and that lie has been confirmed as Rhea trying to make peace.

The good ending for Binding Blade is being able to save the dragon whose soul was destroyed, whereas Crimson Flower ends with slaying a dragon after you've spent the entire game triggering her (and is the ending that leads to oppressive rule under Edelgard, in addition to the only ending without sunlight. What? You thought you'd get the good ending when her final boss theme was playing on the last stage?). Also, you need all the Legendary weapons in order to unlock the final stages, which all play into the big mystery. Crimson Flower requires the player to not understand that the world-building was done to support fighting against Edelgard instead.

Merits of a leader

Let's not beat around the bush here, Roy will not carry you through Binding Blade. His bases are low, and while he has good growths he is unable to promote until the very end of the game. Even then, you need to save the Binding Blade's usage to ensure you get the good ending. Roy is also very unsure of himself, thrust into a position of leadership despite his young age. But look at what happens when he succeeds, he manages to overcome the odds and take down the mightiest army on the continent. At the end of the game, he's shown himself as more than capable of leading. Not to mention, he also believes that humans and dragons can live together, even seeing this in Acadia (and if Ninian was his mother, he's unknowingly proof of this as he is 1/4 dragon himself. May explain his poor bases). If he marries Liliana, he even becomes a King for likely much of the same reason Byleth does in SS/VW (most leaders are dead following the war, plus combining his territory with Ostia which had already taken over Lyn's land after she abdicated/married Hector). Roy learns the truth as already established.

Compare this to Crimson Flower Byleth. Byleth leads the Black Eagle Strike Force, but credit for it goes to Edelgard. Byleth never gets any recognition for this, no position of authority despite proving themselves, instead that goes to Caspar Jenkins of all people, and ends the war continuing to fight TWSITD from the shadows to support Edelgard's regime. And if you read between the lines, Edelgard is NOT a good leader, resorting to bribes, threats, cronyism, secret police, propaganda, and even TWSITD's support and later stolen tech in order to maintain her rule. Byleth lost whatever emotional development they got from White Clouds during this route, once again becoming the Ashen Demon, and is even willing to let themselves die if they can't keep their “humanity” in check showing a distaste for their own draconic heritage (showing humans and dragons can't live together in this timeline). They didn't grow into being a leader, they devolved into being Edelgard's unthinking muscle. Byleth never learns the truth in this route, falling for Edelgard's manipulations resulting in them losing Enlightened One/Nirvana status.

Not to mention, Heroes Relics have really low weapon levels. In theory, they can be used by anyone but only safely by those with Crests and most fully with a matching Crest. Legendary Weapons, on the other hand, can be used by anyone with an S rank in their type. Your characters have to EARN the right to use those things and you'll need them to deal with all the Manaketes during the final level, whereas Relics aren't exactly that level of broken.

Honestly, seeing the ending of Binding Blade and Idunn recovering put at least one tear in my eye. Crimson Flower's just made me feel like the game was calling me an idiot (which considering the Nirvana/Enlightenment thing, it kinda was). I would love if Binding Blade got the Echoes treatment, or even if they just did a GBA collection for the Switch. But after all these years, one thing is as certain now as it was when I was a kid.

In this house, ROY'S OUR BOY!

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seoulsides · 4 years

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only shine for me

⇒ asmodeus x fem!mc/reader

⇒ 2.8k

⇒ tags: fem!mc, worried!asmo, jealous!asmo, protective!asmo, cheeky!simeon, mutual pining, yes simeon knows they’re idiots in love, fluff, REAL SOFTNESS!

⇒ warnings: spoiler for chat between simeon and luke

⇒ summary: when asmodeus catches you passed out from exhaustion on top of a certain angel, he can’t decide whether he wants to rip his hair out from worry or jealousy

⇒ a/n: this was COMPLETELY inspired by the chat between simeon and luke about mc. i thought it worked really well because in my personal view, i strongly believe that asmodeus views simeon as a threat, as per his denial of being jealous of simeon (seen in an asmodeus homescreen interaction). i also believe he felt called out by simeon (chapter 8), who seems to see asmo for who he is, and that is something i think which makes asmo feel very insecure. just watch my asmo character study come out soon. i think to some asmo might come off as OOC, but this is my take on his character once the entire bravado has been dropped.

It was far too late for him to be leaving RAD and all Asmodeus wants is to go back home and just soak in a glorious bath. He already knows that his new bath salts from Majolish had been delivered, having received an email earlier in the day. It was ironic, he muses, that the driving force behind his impatience to go home was the very thing that kept him from doing just that. It was his eagerness during class that landed him in detention. Scratch that — actually, it was all Mammon’s fault. After receiving the email, Asmodeus had excitedly texted you, slipping in a cheeky offer to join him in ‘trying out’ his new products if you were interested, when his scumbag of a brother snuck a look at Asmodeus’ texts from the corner of his eye and then proceeded to blow a gasket.

Instantaneously the both of them had been sentenced to a long gruelling detention, which would have lasted only two hours had Asmodeus’ moronic waste-of-space brother not tried to argue with the professor and blame it all on him. And just for that, they earned another four hours. It felt like an eternity before they were finally free and Asmodeus practically bolted the very second he could, leaving Mammon to grumble by himself.

Asmodeus pouts to himself as he reads your texts on his D.D.D. Lately you have been overwhelmed with a lot of work and had spent the past couple of weeks staying behind after classes to work in the library, coming home late at night. This was also the reason you had to ‘regretfully decline’ his gracious offer. He frowns as he recalls how tired you have been looking for these past few days. You had dark eye bags and frankly seemed like you were half asleep most of the time. He has been worried for a while, and every time he tried to get you back early enough to have a proper night’s rest, you insisted that you were fine. It made him feel useless. Just what kind of a demon would he be if he couldn't care for his precious master?

Regardless of your insistence, he was adamant. You needed to pace yourself before you burnt yourself out. Glancing at the time on his D.D.D., he decides on paying you a visit to see if you were up to take up his offer now that you were probably done with your work for the day. As much as he wanted to monopolise your time, he would rather pamper you and make sure you got the rest you needed.

Fuelled by the prospect of sharing a soothing luxurious bath, possibly in your company, Asmodeus rushes to leave. So great is his impatience that he decides to use a shortcut to get to the house, a convenient little pathway that cuts through the courtyard. In his haste, he almost misses the two figures perched upon one of the courtyard benches. Almost.

He notices movement from the corner of his eye and, when he turns, blanches at the sight before him. There you were, the one person that was plaguing his thoughts, draped across the source of some of his deep-rooted insecurities. Simeon was sitting upon the bench, ethereal as ever as the moonlight illuminated his radiant presence. He was gazing softly at your sleeping face, cradling your head in his lap delicately as his free hand was stroking your hair. He had yet to notice the presence of the demon, far too enamoured with the human sleeping on his lap. Asmodeus clears his throat, a fake smile plastered across his face, “Now, what do we have here?”

“Ah, hello Asmodeus,” Simeon smiles at the demon, his hand only pausing momentarily whilst gently stroking your head. Asmodeus’ eyes narrow at the tender gesture, his pristine smile faltering as the angel continues speaking, oblivious to the demon’s inner turmoil, “We were chatting before planning to leave, but ___ was so tired, she ended up falling asleep on my lap. We’ve been here for a couple of hours.”

Asmodeus’ false smile falls at the angel’s words and he looks at you with narrowed brows, eyes brimming with concern. “She’s overworked herself,” he mutters, a distraught frown marring his beautiful face.

“Well, then,” Simeon looks back down at the serene expression on your face, “It looks like I’ll be here a while longer.” Asmodeus grimaces at the fondness in the angel’s voice.

“I can take her,” the words slip from the demon’s mouth through gritted teeth quicker than he can register them. Asmodeus quickly composes himself and smiles thinly at the beautiful angel, jaw clenching at the sight of Simeon gazing at you affectionately.

“It’s quite alright”, Simeon brushes off the demon’s offer easily. The hand stroking your hair instead moves to cup the curve of your cheek and Asmodeus feels his blood run cold, eyes flashing with rage.

“I already informed Luke that I would not be back for dinner. Besides,” Simeon raises his gaze from your sleeping face to meet the stony expression of the bristling demon, an elusive smile dancing on his lips, “I wouldn’t want to disturb your ‘plans’.”

There was no doubt that the angel was referring to the episode that occurred in class earlier in the day and the ever-so-slight taunt underlying his words, whether they stemmed from good humour or not, only served to infuriate the peeved demon further. At this point, Asmodeus can feel his cheery facade crack, his manicured hands fisting in fury.

“I said I could take her,” Asmodeus hisses, failing to smother the unbridled jealousy that festers in his stomach. He certainly cannot stop the possessiveness from bleeding into his voice when he seethes, “She is my master, after all.”

Simeon has the gall to look amused and the demon’s hands twitch at his sides from the overwhelming desire to just rip you away from the celestial being. Openly glowering at the angel, Asmodeus is just about to drop his act and give the angel a piece of his mind before Simeon cuts him off with an infuriatingly coy smile, “You may do as you please.”

Asmodeus does not hesitate, taking two quick strides towards the bench before kneeling down to scoop you up into his arms. A low groan sounds from your throat as you were jostled from your comfortable position on the angel’s lap and Asmodeus’ scowl melts immediately. He gently shushes you as he cradles your tired form to his chest, delicately tucking your head under his chin. You let out an incoherent mumble, nuzzling your face in the crook of his neck. Asmodeus pauses, looking down at you fondly, unable to fight the endeared smile from appearing on his face as he holds you close in his arms.

An airy chuckle rips him from his reverie and Asmodeus casts a dubious glance at the entertained angel. Under the demon’s wary gaze, Simeon only shakes his head to himself, almost as though he knew something the demon didn’t. He rises from the bench to take his leave, “I’ll trust her with you,” he gives the demon a nod, “Please ask her to text me once you both arrive back home.”

“Believe me, I’ll make sure,” Asmodeus growls under his breath as he clutches you to his chest possessively. He offers the retreating form of the celestial being one more glare, before spinning on his heel. He looks down at you exhausted form anxiously. He presses a soft kiss to your forehead before whisking you away from the courtyard.

“HEY! WHAT’RE YOU DOING WITH ___?!” Mammon’s obnoxious voice echoes throughout the mansion and Asmodeus swears under his breath, cursing himself for thinking the Avatar of Greed wouldn’t pounce on the both of you the very second he walked through the main entrance with you in his arms.

“Shut up, you absolute moron!” Asmodeus hisses angrily, turning you away from the loud demon in an attempt to shield you from the ruckus, “She’s asleep!” At his words, Mammon freezes, eyes wide with alarm. You let out a soft groan and both the demons stiffen at the sound. Three seconds seems to be the extent of the greedy demon’s patience threshold, for when there is no indication of you rousing from your sleep, Mammon is back to his interrogation.

“But, why are you—” Mammon tries to protest indignantly, but Asmodeus cuts him off with a loud shush. Before the Avatar of Greed can get another word in, Asmodeus stalks off with you, leaving the older demon to belt out a litany of abuses after the both of you which are thankfully then drowned out by the angered voice of Lucifer’s booming, “MAMMON !!”

Finally, within the comfort of his room, Asmodeus releases a relieved sigh. Hopefully, Lucifer kept that fool occupied long enough that he wouldn’t seek either of you out.

“Asmo?” you mumble his name dazedly, recognising the demon’s cologne. Asmodeus shudders when he feels your breath against his clavicle. He brings a hand up to pat your head gently, cooing softly at you, “It’s okay, petal, I got you.”

He takes you to his bed, setting you down gently as you gather your surroundings. You look at him questioningly, “How did I get here? Where’s Simeon?” The demon does his best to not bristle at the mention of the angel, but fails to keep the hostility out of his voice, “He’s back at the Purgatory Hall,” he grumbles, “I brought you back.”

Asmodeus is too absorbed in his sulking to notice how your face drops at his words. You look up at the Avatar of Lust guiltily, “I’m so sorry, Asmodeus,” your voice heavy with shame, “I caused Simeon and you both so much trouble.” You pull away from his hold to get to your feet, “I know you had plans and I completely ruined them, haven’t I?”

Asmodeus’ head whips to face you so quick, you would expect his neck to snap. Eyes wide with alarm, he immediately wraps his arms around you and pulls you to his chest, babbling in a panic-stricken voice, “No, no, petal, no, it’s nothing like that! I’m sorry!”

You look up at him, completely perplexed, “Why are you sorry? I should be sorry. I’ve ruined your entire evening—” A long slender finger presses up against your lips, effectively cutting you off, “No more apologising” Asmodeus chides you, a frustrated frown set on his lips.

You look at him sullenly and his entire demeanour softens. Settling you on his lap, he inwardly curses at himself for being so taken with you, “Please stay, petal, please.” His warm hands find your cold ones and he entwines your fingers together, “You haven’t ruined anything. I had detention and on my way back, I saw you with him.” His thumb brushes over yours tenderly, “I got...I got jealous and insisted on taking you back.”

He perks up as though he reminded himself of something before he pins you with another frustrated look, pouting severely, “You need to take better care of yourself! You’re aren’t getting enough sleep! It’s bad for your skin. And health!” He berates you furiously, “And it’s unsafe! You can’t just overwork yourself to the point you fall asleep like that in public! What if you were alone?”, Asmodeus’ voice hardens, wrought with worry “You were vulnerable. Who knows what could have happened to you?”

“Asmo,” you murmur softly at the distressed demon, “I’m so sorry for worrying you.” You squeeze his hands before releasing one to cup one of his cheeks in an attempt to comfort him, “I got a little homesick a couple of weeks ago and fell behind on some course work.” Your voice softens, “I promise to be more careful from now on, okay?” Asmodeus’ frown smooths out into a sulky pout.

You offer him a small smile, thumb brushing over his cheek to soothe his frown, “And I promise you, there’s no need to be jealous. Not when you’re my favourite person.” Finally, Asmodeus lets out a small laugh, leaning into your hand, “Ah, you’re so sly, petal”, he hums quietly, melting into your tender caress, “You’ll really be the end of me.”

“Now that can’t happen, can it? Just what would I do without you?” you reply in an equally hushed voice. He smiles into the palm of your hand and your feel the butterflies fluttering in the pit of your stomach, “How can I make it up to you?”

“Let me draw you a bath,” he beams sweetly at you, “I’ve been eager to put those bath salts to use.” You hand stops stroking his cheek when you tilt your head at him inquisitively, “But you bought them for yourself.”

He whines at your lack of attention, raising his free hand up to cover yours, “And I want you to use them.” You resume your ministrations, letting out a soft laugh when he nuzzles into your hand, “Asmo, that’s so sweet, but honestly I couldn’t do that. I know how expensive they are and how long you’ve been waiting to use them.”

He looks at you with a pout, “And I will be using them. On you.” His expression immediately morphs into a coy one, teasing you in a playful voice, “Or would you like me to join in as well?” You offer him a deadpan expression, and he lets out a hearty laugh before moving your hand from his cheek to bring it to his lips, “I want to do this for you,” he breathes against your fingers.

“Why?” you ask him, voice almost a whisper. “Because,” he replies easily, brushing a chaste kiss to the back of your hand, “You matter to me.” His hand moves lower to clasp your wrist, “So, please, let me do something for you.” He presses his lips against your inner wrist, a soft kiss directly upon your pulse, “Please let me take care of you.”

“Asmodeus,” you breathe out, eyes watering as you feel your heart race wildly in your chest, “You matter to me, too.” Your voice shakes, heavy with emotion and the three words you’ve been wanting to say for the past week press against your tongue. Instead of liberating them, you swallow them down along with the other words you wished you could say and press a kiss to his jaw.

Asmodeus beams at you as he cups your chin and presses a kiss against your cheek, “Ah, my little petal is such a naughty girl.” Your face flushes, becoming even more and more flustered as he kisses your other cheek, followed by a kiss to your forehead. Completely flustered, you nearly forget what you needed to do.

“Oh, wait!” you pull away, ignoring the needy demon’s cry of protest, “I need to call Simeon. I need to explain everything and apologise to him,” you worried your lower lip with your teeth. The Avatar of Lust only chuckles, arms wrapping around your waist to pull you back on his lap, “Don’t worry about that, petal. I took care of it.”

Before you can question him, the demon stands to his feet, hoisting you up in his arms. You let out a yelp and he presses a cheeky kiss against the corner of your mouth, giggling when you gasp, “Let’s get your bath started, hm?”

Back in Purgatory Hall, Simeon lets out a loud chuckle as he checks the new notification on his D.D.D., causing Luke to look at him curiously. “What’s so funny?” the younger angel inquires, looking at the elder demon peculiarly.

“Ah, it’s nothing important,” Simeon shakes his head to himself, offering the boy a private smile, “Say, don’t you think those demon brothers are funny?” Luke scoffs, proceeding to go off on a tangent about how nasty “those demon brothers” were. Simeon muffles another chuckle as he glances back at the screen of his device.

There on Simeon’s D.D.D. is a picture of you and Asmodeus. You were splayed across his lap, face entirely flushed as Asmodeus pressed a kiss to your cheek, lips drawn into a coy grin with one of his eyes closed to deliver a perfectly cheeky wink at the camera. Right beneath the picture was a message that read ‘Here you go! She’s back home, where she belongs ❤︎❤︎❤︎’’

“Simeon, don’t ignore me!” Luke protests and the elder angel laughs, pocketing his D.D.D. as he offers the younger angel an apology. Smiling along to whatever Luke was saying, Simeon cannot help but hope that the two of you would come clean about your emotions. Although from what he witnessed today, he smiles secretly to himself, he thinks you both were well on your way.

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concussed-to-pieces · 4 years

Text

To Tell You The Truth Part One

Fandom: Prospect [2018]

Pairing: Eventual Ezra/Prospector!Reader

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: Hello everyone, and welcome! I present a new indulgence, as I am a simple man subject to the whim of my hyperfixations. I hope that you all will enjoy this tale, though I warn it will be a tad less carefree. Darker subject matter will be tread in this series. But! My indulgences will shine through regardless, and my trigger warnings will be at the beginning of each installment. If you're interested in reading more of my attempted writing involving a space Pedro, I will direct you to Stay Safe, my completed Mandalorian fic. Enjoy!

Tag List: @huliabitch @renegademustelid @wrestlingfae @zombiexbody @sporadic-fics @rzrcrst

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains allusions to previous abuse. Stay safe!]

You ran.

The thrower knocked against your leg as you fled, almost tripping you numerous times. You couldn't bring yourself to fix it, though.

You didn't stop, even when your ribs started to ache and your vision went patchy. The pod is just in the next clearing, you kept telling yourself, the next clearing for certain. Once you were inside it, you could…

It had no lock. Damon hadn't deemed it necessary. Maybe...maybe that other man just wouldn't find you. The one that Damon had shot and tried to thieve everything from. How could he have believed that his greed would go unchecked?! Those two men had clearly been slaving in the Bakhroma Green for ages. Months at a bare minimum. Now one of them was dead, and the other had been wounded by Damon before your oh-so-illustrious companion had succumbed to the injuries inflicted by that railgun.

You had been involved in dig disputes before, of course, but you were hard-pressed to think of a time where one had been settled with such...messy finality.

You entered the pod with a gasp of relief, jerking your helmet off to breathe the comfortingly stale air. You dropped the thrower by the door, unable to bring yourself to even think about using it.

Damon was dead.

You pressed your hands to your temples and sank to the floor. The man who had bullied, browbeat and press-ganged you into this remote locale, was dead. And you…

You had no idea how to urge this pod back up past the thick canopy. You were a digger. Digging was what you were good at. It was what you knew. You were not a pilot.

Despair took hold then, as you realized you were truly trapped. Precious seconds ticked by while you laid there on the floor, a curled-up ball of miserable floater. There were three cycles left before there would be no escape, before the freighter slingback would be entirely inaccessible.

You dragged yourself out of your funk eventually, doing your best to wipe your face clean of all your tears. You could figure this out. All Damon had been good for was flying, right? You would inventory the supplies and see how many days you could eke out. Maybe you could reach someone on the long range.

...

The sorting and cataloging work kept you busy. Which was good. You liked busy. Busy limited headspace. Busy kept people alive on digs.

It was a little warm inside the pod once the sunlight started beating down on it. You wiped your sweat off with your forearm for the millionth time, flipping through your notes. If you were cautious about certain resources and supplements, you might be able to last two months down on the Green moon. But that was only if your filters continued to hold recharges. Uncharitably, you wished you had taken Damon's before you bolted.

There was nothing for it. You would just have to make it back to the freighter in time. Two stands of miserable living would do you no good if you were still on this moon. Judging from the thickness of the pollen in the air, the plant life would be noxious. You wouldn't survive without your filters.

You leafed through the radio manual, flipping the power switch and grimacing at the burst of static that greeted your ears through the Arcsoko long range headset. "To anyone listening, this is Dasha Landcraft Rental, parcel-class, pod number-" you paused, fumbling through to the back of the manual for the number scrawled there by the company. "Number...eight-eight-three-nine-seven-five dash-zero-zero--" you stopped to inhale, "-two-seven-four-two. We have landed off course. I repeat, we are off target in the Green. Pilot lost." Your voice started to shake. "P-Pilot lost. If a-anyone is within range, please respond."

You flipped the switch on the signal amp and then pushed the looper, setting the message to repeat broadcasting for an hour. It would be a varying amount of expenditure on your chit for every additional hour you wanted to keep your transmission on the air, and you didn't exactly have money to throw around, so all you could hope was that someone would hear your distress message within the first free hour.

You kept the headset on, rocking back and forth in your chair as the minutes ticked down. A few times there were bursts of static that sounded like someone was about to come on air, but they peaked as fast as they arrived.

Hope faded the longer you sat there, sorting and stacking the brightly-colored Calori-pouches of Pastors Henry slurry. You staunchly ignored the way your lower lip was quivering. Damon hated it when you cried.

Within the last few precious minutes of your free broadcast, a noise outside sent your heart into your throat. You yanked off the headphones, scrambling for the nav console. The wall of bulky, jutting screens was the first thing you could seriously consider cover, but it was only once you'd tucked yourself beneath it that you remembered you had left the thrower by the door.

You started forward to grab it, but ended up just lowering your body closer to the floor as the noises advanced, footsteps you realized. So he had found you. He would certainly kill you if only for what your partner had done. It had been careless of you to start your broadcast so soon after returning to the pod. You had essentially beamed out a homing signal to your exact location.

For an hour.

This was it. Cowering in a rented pod, weapon feet away, clutching an itemized list of all the things to eat and drink. A fitting end, for a timid dust-scratcher like yourself.

I will not cry or beg, you told yourself sternly. It would do no good here. It was better to face your demise with some shred of dignity, and Damon had just gotten more angry when you cried.

The hatch hissed loudly and you somehow made yourself even smaller while that man, the talkative one, lurched up into the pod. He stumbled, fighting with the latches on his helmet for a good ten seconds before finally managing to get the thing off, thus affording you a clear view at his face.

He didn't look particularly cruel, or Brism-busted like Damon had. Mainly, he just looked tired and dirty. He had a head of shaggy brown hair, olive skin and deep-set brown eyes. His nose was hawklike, prominent even alongside that heavy brow and the square jut of his scruffy jaw. When he turned his head, you spotted a curious chunk of blond hair that grew determinedly out at a different angle from the right side of his hairline, Mallen streak, your brain supplied oh-so-helpfully. An old scar, silver with age, meandered along his left cheekbone, and a halfway-maintained mustache shielded his upper lip.

His eyes roamed the pod curiously for a moment, taking in all the notes you had tacked to the walls in your inventory sweep. He absolutely noticed the thrower abandoned by the door.

"This is a vexsome position that your friend Damon has put you into, I'm afraid." He drawled, his pistol loose at his side while he slowly rotated. "I will not apologize for my hand in his death, as he wounded myself, razed my associate and was planning to abscond with several stands worth of my hard work. His greed outplayed his hand."

Dark eyes landed on you, curled up against the wall beneath the console screens, and the smile that bloomed under his mustache was decidedly predatory.

"I'm...I have food." You began to bargain shakily.

"You certainly do, don't you?" He crooned in a patronizing tone, the thrower pistol humming as he primed it.

"I'm a good digger. Th-That's the only reason Damon dragged me here." You cringed when he took a step towards you. "P-Please, I didn't-"

"I have no doubt that whatever it was, you surely didn't. You could have picked me off easily out there had you wanted to, plenty of range on that thrower. What is a gentle soul like you doing with a character that had such a predisposition for marauderous pilferin', I wonder?" The man mused, his expression cheery to an unsettling degree. The grip he had on the pistol didn't waver an inch.

"He promised I-I would be able to finally quit with the points this planet would make." Why bother lying? This man would just kill you anyway. "B-But the pod, it...something happened during the landing. A malfunction, I'm not sure."

"Ah, so your friend Damon was the Ahab of this vessel as well. No surprise there, that steadfast moral compass of his must have seen you two just flawlessly across the vacuous expanse."

Your lower lip began to quiver again and you dug around in your suit pockets for the lone gem that you had uncovered on your trek earlier. "I don't...I don't have anything to offer aside from the supplies and this. But...p-please, I just…"

Your sketchbook tumbled out of your pocket as you removed the gem. The barrel of his gun grazed the side of your head in obvious response to the action and you froze in terror. "You keep those hands where I can see them, gentle soul. I am not in a gaming mood at the mo…" His words trailed off when he caught sight of the massive pearl cradled in your palms. "Well well, it seems you've got a bit of bargaining power yet."

"I don't need much food, I p-promise." You had told yourself you wouldn't beg, but this seemed...very close to begging. "J-Just water and a pilot." You extended the aurelac, knowing full well that you were surrendering your ability to go home. That miserable rock would have paid for the lease on the pod and passage back to the Pug at the bare minimum. Which you had pointed out to Damon, but he insisted on trekking further. You found yourself agreeing wholeheartedly with this other man's earlier observation, his greed outplayed his hand.

"I am not overly inclined to rid this world of you, gentle soul. If I am reading the situation correct, you are not here because you wish to be." The man said after several breathless moments. He didn't seem concerned about taking the gem from you at the moment. "However, we are at a bit of a stalemate when it comes to locomotion."

His gun dropped from the side of your head and you flinched again when he stretched out his hand towards you. "H-Here, here! Just p-please, don't-" You shoved the rock against his fingers, your eyes shut tight with anticipation. Why couldn't he just shoot you and get it over with?!

"I'm offering you a hand up, gentle soul. Squirrel away your bargaining chip for the time being." The man said, gently easing the gem aside. "I am not an unreasonable man. Let's get you up off that floor and we shall discuss terms as civilized folk do."

"You...you're not going to kill me?" You asked weakly, daring to open your eyes.

"At this juncture? No." The man tilted his head. "Are you planning on doin' anything nefarious that may encourage my own expedient shuffle off of my mortal coil?"

You had to take a minute just to try and figure out what he'd actually said. It had been ages since you'd interacted with anyone aside from Damon, and your late 'partner' hadn't had the most expansive vocabulary. "I've never killed anyone before." You replied, your voice a whisper.

"A prudent answer, to be certain, for one never knows what the tides of fate have in store for them." He pondered for a breath, his eyes almost impossibly dark. "I'll take your word all the same, face value. You seem an honest sort, gentle soul. Makes me inclined to wonder how you got tangled up in this sorry soirée, though." His boot bumped against your sketchbook and he toed it a little closer to you, obligingly keeping his distance.

"That's not...it's not important right now." You snatched the book up and crammed it back into your pocket. Then, you floundered into one of the flight chairs, sitting sideways so you were able to maintain the barest pretense of eye contact. You clasped your trembling hands in front of you, trying to remember to keep them where he could see them.

"The terms will be as follows: we work together to get this craft airworthy once again. By my late partner's calculations, Kevva rest his soul, we've only got a few turns of twenty-four left until we're well and truly cut adrift on this forsaken Nessus." The way that he was using the term 'we' had your chest strangely tight. "I am loathe to be restricted here for the rest of my days, especially with a royal's ransom stashed in my trophy case. I doubt you wish to suffer that same perdition."

He leaned forward and you shifted back on reflex, quickly dropping your gaze from the scar on his cheek to the floor. "I understand." You said softly. "What do you want me to do? I'm not...I don't know anything about the nav systems or engines or-"

"Gentle soul, how long had you wandered this world with that disreputable thief?"

To your horror, you couldn't actually remember how long it had been. It was a haze of silent travel, punctuated by violent outbursts as you tried to make yourself seem even smaller than you already were-

"I did not mean to wound you, gentle soul. I offer my most sincere reparations." He apologized quietly.

"What?"

He gestured with his hand, a little slower now. "You are weepin'."

"Oh! Oh, I'm sorry." You fumbled to wipe your face off on your sleeve. "I'm alright, I'm fine." You assured him with a watery smile.

He studied you for what felt like a lifetime, those brown eyes boring into your own. "I am Ezra, gentle soul. It's a pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Ezra. That's right, he had introduced himself as such to Damon before everything had gone so incredibly wrong. "I'm sorry about what happened to your friend." You said thickly. "I didn't...I didn't want anyone to get hurt."

He waved off your words, scoffing a bit. "Number Two was a utility, not a friend. I am none too aggrieved by his loss, and I implore you not to trouble yourself with such dour ruminations on his behalf." Ezra stretched, then swiveled his head around. "What does our supply situation look like? I can see your scrawlings, naturally, but I would prefer it from the merchant's mouth."

You leafed through your notebook pages. "If we're careful, we should have enough to last one month." Split between the two of you rations were a bit harder to calculate, so you went with the safe route of halving the time evenly. "I don't know your appetite. Damon would go days without food sometimes, because of the sleep meds."

"I am ravenous at any and all opportunities, I must confess." Ezra admitted. "Been surviving off bits bars for the last four stands. Calori-paste is my damn marrow at this point in time."

"W-We still have some powdered things, tea, if...I mean can I offer you...um, some coffee?" You warily turned your back to him and started rummaging in one of the many side compartments, pulling out a tiny sealed bag of dehydrated coffee mix.

"I would be…" He paused, sounding like he was fighting for breath. It was so dramatic that you actually looked at him, a touch alarmed. "I would be forever in your debt if you would grace me with so much as a watered-down teaspoon of that heavenly beverage." He settled on one of the side benches, his pistol holstered for the time being. "We will not need rations to last the month, gentle soul, so our best option in the event of calamitous mechanical difficulties may be to take any excess off to the Saders to trade for goods."

"Saders?"

"They are a group of people that inhabit the Green. Religious settlers, tedious scavengers."

Your brow furrowed. You were no religious expert. "Like Kevvaites?" You tried.

"No no, not so much with the monotheism. They believe in the Tides of the universe. The Currents, a certain...ebb and flow of life." Ezra waved a hand to illustrate. "All very poetic, giveth and taketh kinda' sort. Not bad folk to deal with, all things considered, but voraciously against conventional arms and armaments."

You wracked your brain for any other useful items you may have stowed away from Damon, lest he pawn them to pay for his drugs of choice. After you set the hydro to churn the precious dust into coffee, you knelt and shuffled your small personal storage compartment open. "I don't have a lot to offer, I'm afraid." You murmured, tugging out a few duct tape sealed bags. "Almost all the basic hygiene items, my emergency filters...anything he could get his hands on, really. He would just trade it for more drops or Brism." You continued apologetically.

"That man was a junkie." Ezra said bluntly. "Now, I have my own vices and I am not above reproach, but I always assured that my consumption was never at the cost of someone else's comfort."

Your throat felt tight and you ducked your head down, avoiding eye contact. "I...I'm sorry."

"Whyever for, gentle soul?" He asked curiously.

"I-I shouldn't have-" You had no idea what you were apologizing for, your words dying in your throat. After so much time with Damon, you did it automatically. The hydro beeped, offering you the opportunity to bolt. Which you took immediately. "Coffee!" You announced brightly, the flimsy cardboard container that it dispensed into almost scorching your hand. You passed it off to him, warning, "Be careful, it's-"

Ezra slugged half the scalding contents in one go, his Adam's apple bobbing convulsively.

"-h-hot." You finished weakly.

"Kevva above, it sure is." He grunted, shuddering. "God damn, I have missed that acrid nightmare of flavor burnin' my esophagus like Satan himself. Absence truly does make the heart grow fonder." He pawed idly at his wounded arm after a moment, grimacing. "I don't suppose that Damon kept any of the usual med supplies? A field kit, maybe?" The older man queried hopefully.

You hesitated, gnawing on your lower lip. "He...didn't." You answered carefully.

Ezra looked momentarily distraught before he seemed to catch himself, his expression smoothing into something closer to weary resignation. "Well, can't say I'm surprised. They're worth good currency in a trade. Bodes poorly for the survival of my arm, however." He said glibly, the wince that followed contrasting dramatically with his unphased tone.

"Y...Your-?"

"Once the dust gets in, it don't take too long for the fester to permeate." Ezra explained. The wound on his arm oozed a sickly, yellowish fluid down the sleeve of his exosuit when he pressed his hand over it. "It wasn't originally just myself and Number Two, you understand. We had a full crawling party before the muti--" He jerked to a stop, shooting you a wary glance. "Now, gentle soul, I don't want you thinkin' that you have anythin' to fear from me. The mutiny was...a misunderstanding. You saw today what depths desperate men stoop to over a bit of aurelac."

You nodded, your throat gone dry.

"There were...concerns voiced about equal shares, it was a Kevva-forsaken mess. I don't know how many times I've told folk to draw up their union contracts before they get boots on the ground. Nobody listens, though. It's always 'mutiny once we're planetside' this and 'we can take everything' that." He griped. "Words and metal flew and, regrettably, myself and a few others were marooned on this damnable moon." Ezra drew his hand away from his arm, that yellowed fluid clinging to his fingers in thick, pitchy strands, "We quickly found that these climes are fiendishly inhospitable to floaters in damaged suits."

Your lip felt like it was about to drop off your face from how hard you were worrying it. "I...D-Do you promise not to hurt me?" You finally asked.

Ezra gave you a look of confusion, brown eyes narrowing slightly. "Gentle soul, I thought I had made it abundantly clear that-"

"Just-! Just say yes or no."

"Yes, dammit, but I fail to see what that's got to-"

"I h-have a kit. A f-field kit." You stammered out. His eyebrows drew together in a thunderous frown and you saw his jaw working. "Wait! Wait, just let me f-f-finish." You extended your hands in a placative gesture, your heart hammering wildly in your chest. "I...trade. I'll trade you. Nobody does anything for free, right? I'll help you, and in exchange, I want you to promise me you won't hurt me."

"What would you do if I did hurt you, gentle soul?" Ezra inquired softly. Your breath hitched. "Indeed, what would you be able to do? Especially now that I'm aware you've got a kit hidden somewhere." The man got to his feet and you immediately flinched. "Your powers of persuasion need some...refinin', but I am not immune to civility. Gentle soul, if you give me that kit not only am I willin' to work with you to get us off this moon, I'll throw a chunk of my haul your way as a show of good faith." He offered, dark eyes watching you closely. "And, I will give you my word as an individual with the slightest, infantessible modicum of moral standing, that I won't lay a finger on you fueled by dubious or malicious intent."

You stared up at him, your mind entirely blank from panic. His strange words certainly weren't helping your comprehension. "I..." No, no, this was wrong. He was putting far too much up for his end of the bargain! He must be planning something, some sort of trick.

Ezra cocked his head. "You still with me, gentle soul?" He asked cautiously. "Don't tell me you're strokin' out, it'd be a shame to lose such pleasant company."

Your laugh was a jagged hiccup in your chest. Ezra huffed out a breath after a moment, obviously uncomfortable. He probably thought you had gone moony, entirely lunar. "I'm...I'm sorry, I...that's a good, um, deal, b-but I can't accept it." You struggled to get your words out. "Y-You…that is, I don't...I don't want…" to be like Damon.

"Perhaps your persuasion isn't nearly as uncalibrated as I originally surmised. Very well, gentle soul. How much is my dominant arm worth to you?" Ezra queried dryly, misunderstanding your hesitation. "Because to me, as a workin' man, it's worth its weight in aurelac sixteen times over."

You hadn't thought of it like that. You felt a bit foolish now. "Oh. Oh, I'm sorry. I...I'm sorry."

"Kevva above, you are a tender thing. I don't mean to be so grim, but that's the harsh reality that I've been livin' with since I found myself marooned. It's a miracle I've managed this long with the meager supplies allotted to us." He said, sounding rueful. "I mourn my stomach every morning as I eat those crunchy bastard bits bars and I pray for my sufferin' to end."

You didn't mean to snort, but his colorful terminology caught you off-guard. His smile was less predatory this time, as if he hadn't expected your mirth. You knelt, burrowing even deeper into your compartment until you hit the false bottom. There, underneath several sheets of whitewashed cardboard, resided your precious field kit. You had traded the entirety of your meager share from an equally-meager haul for it stands ago, once you realized how deeply entrenched Damon was in his addiction. You had always clung to the faint hope (albeit perhaps in vain) that you might be able to escape from Damon and, if you struck out on your own, you knew you would at the very least need a good field kit as a failsafe for emergencies.

You hesitated before you tugged the box free, your fingers stroking the smooth plastic. You felt silly for the melancholic sensation that rose in your chest, it was just a field kit. You could always get another one. But it had seemed like so much more than a porta-surge. Until today, it had represented your dreams of getting out from beneath Damon's thumb.

"Not to-" You had been so lost in thought that the unexpected sound of his voice caught you by surprise. You bolted to your feet in a rush and the top of your head met the bottom of his jaw with a bone-jarring impact. Your vision faded momentarily from the force of the blow, black dots exploding and fading out.

The older man grunted, staggering back a step. He proceeded to sit down heavily on one of the bench seats as you held your aching head in pain. The porta-surgery box laid abandoned on the floor. You could only imagine what level of punishment you were in for now.

"Martyr's malfeasance, gentle soul, if you try to ring my bell like that again you may do me in." He groaned hoarsely, working his jaw and tonguing the inside of his cheek. "What the fuck is your cranium comprised of?"

You didn't answer, sniffling a little bit and blinking back your tears as you scooped the field kit off the ground. You held the box out to him, your eyes focused on your boots while you struggled to keep your hiccups to a minimum; Damon hated when you would cry.

You cringed when a gloved hand rested gently on the top of your head, clumsy fingers parting your hair. What was he…? "You are goin' to have a fine bruise, gentle soul. Mercifully you didn't break skin. Guess my jawline isn't as sharp as I've been claimin'."

Was he...was he joking with you? You dared to glance up at him and you were startled by how concerned he looked. Oh, I'm still holding the kit. You gracelessly pushed the field kit against his stomach, trying to use it to give yourself some breathing room.

Ezra seemed to get the hint and he shifted a step back, taking the kit as he went. "Kevva, this is one of the portable surgicals. Sequestering it was the intelligent choice, gentle soul." He muttered, almost like he was speaking to himself. "I am loathe to willfully use your resources, so I shall do my best to be prudent." You could feel him looking at you again. "This is all that you have, isn't it?" He asked abruptly. "The kit, those few possessions you've already dug out of that compartment."

You just cleared your throat and avoided his searching gaze with studious intent. "You're wasting time." You whispered.

"True enough." Ezra agreed. He flopped back down on the bench and rummaged around in the box, tugging loose the tiny orange sepsis kit and the patch gun with a grimace. "Hello, old friend." He then raised his voice to address you once more, "I will be makin' a copious amount of noise presently, gentle soul."

You nodded jerkily, covering your ears and turning your head away.

Part Two

#ezra (prospect 2018)#ezra prospect #ezra prospect x reader #ezra prospect imagine #slow burn #eventual romance #pedro pascal #pedro pascal imagine #how do I tag this #aw heck #thanks for being here #you brave soul you #ezra x reader #prospect 2018 #prospect #this is prime indulgence hours boys #enjoy!

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beyond-the-mirror · 4 years

Text

The Blue Eyed King’s Gift

Oof! After an eternity incredibly long time I’m finally back to writing! This one will be a three part fic to accompany the Fairy Tale AU one I wrote with Dante x Fem!Reader.

Can you guess which tale I got inspiration for this fic? I won’t include it in the tags for now, but as the story progresses you will start to get the idea of which tale it is.

Warnings: Slight violence against children. Don’t worry, it’s nothing too serious.

Story under the cut.

IMPORTANT EDIT: I decided to make this a four-part fic rather than a three-part, mostly because I realized that the second part may be a little too long to be included in just one chapter.

Part Two - Part Three - Part Four

.............................

Part One

"(Y/N)!! Where the fuck is my breakfast?!!"

Your father yelled from his bed chambers in such a loud volume you swore the entire house trembled in fear at his wrath. Letting out a defeated sigh, you hurried up placing all the served plates and the warm teapot on the tray before heading upstairs.

Life hadn't been easy at all for you, especially these recent years. Ever since you had memory, your father has been a cruel man to both you and your poor mother, the only reason she had ended up marrying him was because of an arrangement both their families had agreed upon. He was the sole heir of his family's fortune, but needed to marry a woman in order to keep their status unblemished. Eventually your grandparents passed away and your parents received the inheritance, the only problem they didn't take into account was their son's unmeasurable greed and hedonism. Soon enough, your father had wasted pretty much all your fortune in alcohol, unsuccessful business deals and gambling, reducing all your family's possessions to merely a modest but still pretty chateau in the countryside and a few valuables.

You still cried at the memory of your mother wilting away on her bed due to a most terrible illness, the medicines she needed to recover were far too expensive, not that the price mattered much since your father wouldn’t even bother to pay for them anyways had they been any cheaper. Alcohol and gambling were far more important for the man than his dying wife.

"Finally! I swear you're doing this on purpose." Your father scowled from his bed as you placed the food tray on his bedside table. "Do you wish for your own father to starve to death? Talk about an ungrateful child. Get out of my sight already!"

You only resigned to silently nod before leaving, the harsh words from your father never failed to hurt you deeply, cutting down your heart so much you weren't able to mutter a single word to him.

A few tears threatened to escape, but you forced them down. A new day full of possibilities was right before you, so you wasted no time in collecting some of the many fruits and vegetables you grew by yourself in your own garden. This year had brought an exceptional harvest, your crops would certainly make a great profit at the town's market.

Unlike your father, the townspeople respected you and treated you with utmost kindness. Often would they offer their help knowing your situation, something that you would forever be grateful for. You promised to yourself that one day, shall your economy ever recover that is, you would repay them to the last penny for their unwavering support.

After another successful day at the town market you decided to return home, all your produce sold out and now replaced by a small satchel of silver coins, some of them spent in meat, spices and bread for cooking meals at home.

It was a simple life, but you were happy with what little you had. Now if only your father weren't so cruel and abusive...

.............................

"C'mon V! Let's explore over here!"

You were in the kitchen when a soft giddy voice in the distance caught your attention.

"Wait Nero! I don't think it's a good idea to stray further. What if Father becomes worried?" A second voice answered back.

Peering out the window, you noticed two little children playing not too far from your chateau's front yard. Both had pristine white hair, one of them seemed to carry a black kitten in his arms while a blue bird was perched on his shoulder. It was a rather endearing sight and an odd one too since they weren't familiar to you at all, not many people lived in the countryside area you resided in. Perhaps a family recently moved nearby without you noticing.

"Don't worry V, after all he sent Griffon and Shadow here to look after us. Look brother," One of them pointed at your residence with the small wooden sword in his hands. "I found a tiny castle!"

"Whoa, what a lovely house! Do you think a tiny princess lives there too?" The other brother pointed out. You couldn't help but giggle at their adorable antics as they approached your yard.

Reaching for some of the pastries you had bought earlier, you decided to grab a few to give to the brothers. You were about to reach for the back door when-

"GET OUT OF MY PROPERTY YOU BRATS!!"

As soon as you stepped out, you witnessed your father in a very drunken state harassing the poor children. "I SAID GET LOST NOW!!!"

You watched in absolute horror how he harshly grabbed one of the kids by his arm before throwing him to the ground, prompting his brother to wield his toy sword in an attempt to defend him, but ultimately failing as he was backhanded so roughly he too fell to the ground.

"NO! FATHER STOP!" You immediately sprinted to them, basically throwing yourself over harm's way as you shielded the children, pulling them away from your father's relentless attacks. Even the black cat and the blue bird that accompanied the kids had started attacking him, effectively helping you keeping the man at bay as you hugged the kids protectively.

"Damn animals, GET AWAY FROM ME!" The man struggled and flailed against the bird and the cat, missing every strike as he was too drunk and unfocused for their agility.

"Please father, you're completely inebriated and you will only hurt yourself and others. Just go back to the house, please?" You implored doing, your best to calm him down until he finally relented.

"Fine. Food better be ready soon though or you're sleeping outside tonight." His words came out slurred as he stumbled back inside.

Letting out a sigh of relief, you turned to the young twins in your arms, kneeling down before them to check for any wounds they may have gotten. The poor little ones were crying, a few bruises and cuts on their knees and faces.

"It's okay little ones, the bad man is already gone." Gently wiping their tears away, you comforted them until they calmed down. "Are you alright?"

"I-I think so... How about you V?"

"I... I’m fine. That man was so scary though."

A sigh of relief escaped you as you determined all the wounds were minor and merely superficial, nothing you couldn’t handle quickly.

"I'm truly sorry for what happened. Please come inside, let's get your wounds treated."

.............................

“Much better now, isn’t it?”

It didn’t take long for you to finish cleaning and disinfecting the boys’ wounds. Luckily yout homemade medicinal balm was already working wonders, their skin already healing considerably.

“Here! A gift for being the bravest boys in the world.” You handed each one the pastries from before. The brothers’ eyes began sparkling at the sweet treats before them, they didn’t hesitate for a second before grabbing them and taking a bite.

“Thank you so much lady (Y/N)! These are so delicious!” they happily ate their pastries, even sharing a bit for their company animals too.

“I’m glad you like them. And you don’t need to call me lady by the way, just (Y/N) is fine. May I know your names too?”

“I’m Nero!” The twin with short hair and blue eyes answered.

“My name is Vitale, or V if you prefer.” The twin with shoulder-length hair and green eyes replied. “Oh! And these are our friends Griffon and Shadow!” V hugged Shadow close to his chest while Griffon perched himself on Nero’s shoulder.

“A pleasure meeting you four! Does your family live nearby by the way?”

Nero nodded as he kept chewing on his pastry. “Our house is just north from here actually, but Papa doesn’t let us go out often.”

Oh?

“And why is that?”

“Well...” V started, looking a bit down. “Father is very protective of us, that’s why he only lets us play outside as long as we stay close to the house. But today we tried convincing him to let us go explore a little bit farther, it was difficult but he finally agreed as long as we promised we would be alright...”

“I really hope he doesn’t get mad at us after he finds out what happened.” Nero added worryingly. Their saddened eyes really plucked at your heartstrings.

You knelt down so you could look at them in the eyes. “Don’t worry my children. How about I write a note to your father explaining the situation? I’m not sure if this would help much, but at least he would know he has my word that no harm will come to you. And if that doesn’t work, I could always go and meet him personally to get to an agreement.”

“You would really do that for us?” They looked at you expectantly, and when you nodded your answer, their faces lit up in so much joy that they unexpectedly enveloped you in a hug. You chuckled before wrapping your arms around them, returning the hug.

.............................

Since the brothers wanted to continue playing, you allowed the children to stay for a few more hours while you finished cooking. You let them keep playing in your garden, a place where you knew your father wouldn’t spot them and risk another scene like the one before.

Politely excusing yourself to your little guests before leaving to deliver your father’s meal. Luckily this time he received his food without saying much of a word, a very welcomed improvement from this morning’s rant.

As you returned to your guests, you noticed they were looking at you in concern.

“(Y/N), is that man really... your father?

“Yes, he is. Why the question?”

The glanced at each other briefly before V continued “Why did he treat you like that? I thought fathers were supposed to love their daughters...”

To say the question took you a bit by surprise would have been a underestimation. You simply sat down at one of the wooden benches, not knowing exactly what to say.

The brothers sat down next to you, each one by your sides.

You fumbled with your words, tears already pricking your eyes before you managed to control them.

“I know he is not exactly a good man, he made many mistakes in the past that cost our family so much… But, despite everything, he is still my father. Maybe I’m wrong, but I want to think he still has a good heart deep inside. That’s why I can’t give up on him. I stay with him in hope that one day he would finally change for the better.”

You forced a smile so you wouldn’t make the children worry anymore about you, and yet they managed to see through your façade. Their little arms wrapped around your waist and hugged you, an attempt to give you some comfort for the pain you were going through daily.

A warmth unlike no other enveloped your entire self, maybe it was cuteness of the situation or the great empathy of this wonderful children felt for you, but it felt so soothing how peace seemed to overtake you at the moment.

It was strange, yet so familiar. Like a distant memory of better days gone by.

.............................

The sun was about to set in a few hours, so you decided it was time for the children to head back home before it became dark.

As you had promised the brothers, you wrote a note for their father apologizing for the incident that happened and gave it to Nero. You also packed a few slices of fruit in a pouch for them to snack on during their trip back home.

“Um (Y/N)... can we come to your house to play again some time?” V asked in a shy voice. Both he and Nero had so much fun playing and staying with you, for them it felt that they had genuinely met a new friend that day.

“Of course little ones. You can come here and play whenever you want, as long as your father agrees to.” You ruffled their pretty little heads, making the brothers giggle.

“We promise to visit as often as we can! Right V?”

The younger one nodded his head enthusiastically.

And so, Nero and V departed. It was odd, how the chateau felt a hundred times emptier without them despite just meeting them earlier.

They were both so sweet and innocent, you just hoped their father wouldn’t get angry after reading your short letter. It would be a shame if the boys got punished for something that wasn’t their fault.

Going back into the kitchen, you cleaned a bit before tending to the plants at your garden, wondering if your new friends would soon brighten your day again with their presence

.............................

At the throne of a majestic palace, an all-seeing orb conjured at his hand, a demon king watched over his two sons.

The day they were born, he vowed to The Creator above that he would always protect them, even if that meant giving up his own life, he would gladly pay the price if it guaranteed they would keep living theirs in peace.

His kingdom may not be a vast one, completely isolated from others, but the land was prosperous and peace reigned over everyone. The king knew his sons would grow safe and sound behind the powerful barrier that surrounded the kingdom, but he couldn’t help a small seed of doubt that gnawed at his chest.

He feared for the day curiosity would awake in the hearts of his twins. They would want to know everything about the outside world, their innocent minds not knowing how cruel and dangerous it could be. The king often taught them of the outside world through the many books and scripts in the royal library, but he was afraid that would not be enough for his children.

So when that morning they had insisted of going beyond the barrier, no matter how much he had prepared himself mentally for this moment, his heart still ached with worry.

But he wouldn’t take their freedom away. Doing so is one of the most horrifying acts one could bestow upon another.

So the king allowed them to venture beyond their home. He had to let them fly, not clip their beautiful wings.

However, as much as he wanted to trust his sons, his concerns were bigger. He tasked two servants to keep them company, knowing that their eyes would keep guard on them. Using his demonic power, he summoned an oracle that would let him watch over them from his throne.

He watched as they approached a small chateau outside the forest, they were happy and playing along the way which brought a smile to his usually stoic face.

That contentment was gone in an instant.

A drunk man stepped out of the house and attacked his sons, scaring them and making them cry.

The king immediately stood from his throne, his fists tightly clenched as his eyes filled with immeasurable wrath and ire. He was about to unsheath his own sword to open a portal and go there, ready to end the miserable man’s life, when another figure ran into the scene. A woman who shielded his sons from the attacking man.

And when he finally managed to look at her face, he froze, almost dropping the sword in his hand.

For she looked exactly like-

… No. It couldn’t be her.

And yet there was a tenderness in the way she treated them. The way her soft hands cleaned the boys’ tears and kindly healed their wounds. The way she offered them a few pastries with a sweet smile in her face and warm light in her eyes. It was rather endearing, how this woman gained his sons’ trust in just a few minutes.

Releasing a breath he didn’t know he was holding, the king sat down at the throne once again, attentive to what the oracle revealed to his eyes.

Maybe the outside world wasn’t so dangerous after all.

#devil may cry #fairy tale au #Vergil Sparda #vergil x reader #vergil x you #reader insert #fanfiction

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sunflowersunshinevol6 · 4 years

Text

The Only Hope

Pairing: Harry Styles x OC

Warnings: post apocalyptic,

Summary: The world as everyone knew it, ended December 31, 2020 when Nuclear War finally happened. Harry Styles and several other celebs were able to hide out in bunkers away from the chaos in cryo-chambers, not aging, not changing for ten years. When Harry finally awakes he thinks he's alone, but shadows move around him and a new order, Selah's Gate, has taken over.

A/N: Inspired by the album 'Danger Days' by My Chemical Romance and their song 'Destroya' in particular

Anne was nervous, twisting her wedding ring round on her finger as she looked at the chamber Harry was urging her into.

"I don't know about this Love."

"We don't have time mum."

The emergency sirens had been blaring for a half hour, ever since the news footage had showed the Nucs being launched. People all over the world were running scared. This was it, it was happening.

"It doesn't feel right." She said again. Harry gave his mom a pleading look.

Elites had been buying these cryo chambers for years in the case of an event like this. It was why Harry had had the bunker built beneath the house in the first place. Since he'd come to be a celebrity there had always been whispers and rumors of the end, and if you could afford to save yourself and those you love, you would wouldn't you.

Harry turned his gaze to Gemma. He had bought three chambers, one for each of them. Gemma reached out, touching her mother gently.

"Harry did this for us mum."

"But what about the others....all the people who won't survive?" Harry shook his head. He was always about treat people with kindness, but in this instance....family first. "People will die Harry. Are you willing to live with that once we wake?" Harry felt tears in his eyes, he swallowed the knot in his throat and looked her in the eye.

"Yes.....if it means saving you."

10 years later

Fallon felt the buggy catch air as she drove up and over the hill. It was hot, just like every other day, not a cloud in the sky and no sign of rain.

She couldn't remember the last time it had actually rained in Selah. Probably before the bombs dropped, there was a rumor about a place North called 'Eden' where it always rained and was always green. When the dust cleared after the bombs hit the first thing to go was all the water bottles, water was hoarded unless you found an underground spring somewhere you could stock up on.

She parked the buggy outside of the remains of the crumbling mansion. She had been coming here for weeks, scrounging and taking what was still in good shape to sell at the local market.

Most of the actual building was gone. But the main area was still in tact. She stepped over bricks and mortar as she made her way into the house once more.

Sometimes she would close her eyes and imagine what it must have been like to live here, then she shakes her head. Being wealthy is what destroyed the world,.wealth and the greed that came along with it.

She was searching what must have formally been a bedroom when she saw the airtight door in the ground. It was silver and covered in dust from the sandy air.

"What the hell?" She knelt down, twisting the heavy door. It came open with a hiss, she grabbed her flashlight, shining it down into the darkness, a ladder leading the way down.

It was a good ten feet to the bottom. Fallon landed hard on the concrete, it sent vibrations through her feet and up her legs, but she dusted herself off and shined her flashlight into the small room.

She was surprised to find three cryo chambers, the beds the wealthy had used to protect themselves from the blast, another reason former wealthy people no longer survived in this life. They were cowards. Selfish. Masters of the universe. Not anymore.

Two of them stood open, whomever had been in them, long gone by now. But the last one was sealed and has remained that way.

Fallon walked up to the chamber, shining her flashlight on the face of the person inside. As much as she was disgusted by the privileged of the former world, she'd be crazy to deny how attractive this man was.

He had golden brown curls and a face that reminded her of the old paintings of Adonis or Apollo. He was very handsome. She reached for the handle, unsealing the chamber, the door opened with a soft hiss and Fallon took a step back, reaching for the gun in her holster.

Harry gasped, feeling himself come back to consciousness, his body felt heavy. He wiped his eyes with the back of his hand, jerking forward when he realized what had happened and wondering if his mom and sister were still asleep. Had they awakened him?

When he looked up, stepping out of the cryo chamber it wasn't his mother or his sister who greeted him.

The girl was dressed in rags, a pair of goggles sat firmly on her dark hair, which was pulled back in two space bins, tight and perfect, save for the few places little hairs blew easily in the breeze, she had dark eyes, that stared through him. He realized moments later she held a weapon, pointed right at him.

"Who are you?" She demanded. Harry was slightly offended, this was his house. But she did have the gun. He raised his hands.

"I'm Harry....who are you?" He asked. She only scoffed. "What is the year?" He asked, genuinely confused. It was all a head rush.

"It's February 2030." Harry sucked in his breath harshly. Ten years. He'd been asleep for ten fucking years. He cleared his throat, pointing to the two chambers behind him.

"The women....the women who were in these....where are they?" Fallon lowered the gun slightly, the panic in his voice and fear in his eyes calling to her compassion.

"I....I'm sorry Harry....no one was here but you."

The world slows down, a sharp pain riding up his thighs as his knees hit the concrete floor. He can see the girl, her lips moving but no sound, his ears were ringing and his heart was breaking. He didn't save them....he couldn't save them. He buried his face in his hands, sobbing hard.

Fallon wasn't sure what to do. She hated him. She had to. He had obviously been wealthy in the previous life. But now he just looked sad and pathetic.

She knelt down, pulling back when Harry flinched as she touched his shoulder. He looked up at her through glassy eyes. It was the first time she could see them. Beautiful, green, he had really pretty eyes.

"I shouldn't do this....I could get in a lot of trouble but....come with me." She took his hand, pulling him to his feet and towards the exit. He pulled his hand out of hers as they stood at the ladder.

"Where are you trying to take me?" He asked, trying and failing to not sound annoyed and scared.

"You can't stay here." Fallon waved to the empty bunker. No way he would survive.

"Excuse me." He snapped, crossing his arms. Ten years of sleep and he was still a cranky bastard when he woke up. "I have an entire house. I'll be fine." Fallon just stared, studying him for what felt like hours. Finally she stepped aside, pointing up.

"You have the whole house? Fine. Keep it. But I would want to know what I was buying into before I made any decisions." Harry pushed past her. She really annoyed him, her haughtiness and superior attitude. He climbed up the ladder and shielded his eyes as he stepped out into the sun for the first time in ten years.

Fallon climbed out after him. Harry stood frozen, gazing at what used to be his home, now only a shadow of its former self, blown to bits. She watched tears slide down his cheeks.

"You've been asleep for ten years." He turned, a sympathetic and sad look on Fallon's face. "A lot has changed. This is no longer the world you left behind."

#harry styles fanfic #harry styles fanfiction #harry styles fic #harry styles x reader #harry styles x you #harry styles #harry styles imagine #harry styles one shot #solo harry #hs fandom #hs imagine #hs fanfic #hs1 #hs2

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alaffy · 3 years

Text

Iron Man

I’m kind of (slowly) go back through the MCU and just wanted to record some of my thoughts on the movies and tv shows.

I thought the first few minutes of Iron Man was the perfect way to introduce Tony. Just through those few scenes we are able to see exactly who he was before he was captured, and it’s done quickly enough that we can get right to the plot of the movie.

Of course, Rhodey is played by Terrance Howard in this film. And Howard is a fine actor and plays the character well. That being said, I do feel that Don Cheadle works better in this part. Rhodey is supposed to be this character that is trying to reign in Tony. Of the two actors, Howard just seems like he’s more likely to join in. I think that’s because Howard looks much younger than he actually is (in real life he’s four years young then Downey, but in the movie, he looks several years younger). Anyway, this is just personal preference more than anything else.

I honestly forgot Colson was in this movie. I thought he was introduced in the second one. Also, I forgot the group that captured Tony is the Ten Rings. I wonder what references (if any) will be made in Shang-Chi. It’s too bad we didn’t get more of an Iron Man vs. Ten Rings conflict in the MCU.

Pepper Potts is an example of how a character can be used as a damsel in distress without making her that type of character. Pepper Potts is smart, independent, and brave. She has just as much personality as Tony. She is not there just to be rescued. Now, she finds herself in some moments where she does need to be rescued (one of which she ends up saving herself), but it’s not because of some sort of weakness. She is literally trying to do the right thing, but the events around her change so rapidly that she ends up in situations she needs help to get out of. For example, when she goes with SHIELD to arrest Stane, there is no reason for her to expect him to show up in a giant armor suit. But he does, and suddenly she finds herself in danger. And Tony comes to her rescue.

And speaking of Stane (as well as Tony)…so, one thing Marvel has does quite often is make the villain an evil businessman. All three Iron Man movies, both Ant-Man movies, and the second Spiderman movie, all businessman who are “Evil” for “reasons” usually greed. And in these cases these villains are usually one dimensional and kind of meh. Stane, while he definitely doesn’t rank up with the better Marvel villains, is the one time I think this works. The whole point of Iron Man is that Tony Stark, a weapons dealer, believes what he’s doing is for the good of mankind. That he’s helping the good guys. Tony then gets one hell of a wakeup call in that the world is not that black and white. And that his weapons are doing just as much harm, if not more, than good. So, Tony realizes that he needs to take back control of his company (because it’s clear he doesn’t know everything that’s going on in there) and the first step to that is to stop weapon’s manufacturing. So if Tony, the hero, is a businessman saying that his company needs to “do better,” then it does make sense (in the first movie) that the villain is going to be his opposite (in other words, a business man who is a war profiteer). And it absolutely would make sense that the profiteer would be from Starks own company, because they definitely wouldn’t want Stark Industries to change. But I don’t think it was something that needed to be repeated in all three movies, or at least find a way to make it different. Because each time Marvel has done the evil businessman, it has felt like we’re rehashing Iron Man 1. Although I do question why Stane, who plays the part of the concerned father figure to Tony while trying to quietly usurp him, would tell Tony he locked him out of the company in front of all those press people? Seems a bit of a risk.

I think the first Iron Man works really well. It’s very much a strong debut of several characters. And it absolutely starts the journey that we will see Tony go through over the different movies.

#Iron Man #Tony Stark #james rhodes #obadiah stane #MCU

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cosmicjoke · 3 years

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Okay, I gotta talk a little about chapter 65 of AoT, and really some of the themes being put forth in general in this chapter. This is probably gonna be totally incoherent, because these are some big brain concepts that largely go over my head, I’ll be real, haha. But I’ll do my best.

I want to focus on Kenny’s conversation with his Grandfather, because it’s here that we get into some of the more broad ranging and world relevant themes of SnK, particularly dealing with issues of racism, xenophobia, isolationism, and concepts of homogeneity.

Kenny’s Grandfather talks about how the Monarchy doesn’t hate the Ackerman’s, but rather fears them, because they can’t be controlled. Because the Ackerman’s, along with very few other bloodlines that somehow ended up behind the walls, are all of different races than the majority bloodline, meaning, of course, the Eldians. And because of this, the power of the Titans doesn’t work on them. The Monarchy then comes to think of these other bloodlines as threats to the peace it’s attempted to cultivate among the people behind the wall, because their memories aren’t able to be wiped. So they end up using threats of violence, death, intimidation, and the like, in order to get these bloodlines to comply with their demands and keep quiet about what they know about the truth of the world and human history. Most bloodlines end up complying under duress, but the only two that don’t are the Ackerman’s and the Asians. They rebel and refuse, the Ackerman’s in particular giving up their position as the sword and shield of the Royal Government. Until the head of the Ackerman clan decides to not pass down any of his generations knowledge to their children, and offers himself up for execution in an attempt to protect the Ackerman’s from being purged. His efforts end up being in vain, though, as the Royal Government still finds itself unable to tolerate a group of people it can’t control, and thus the persecution of the Ackerman’s continues, until they’re driven to the fringes of society, forced to into desperation and poverty.

What’s really interesting about this is how it reflects so many real life situations throughout human history, and where concepts of tribalism and nationalism and isolationism come from. It’s usually because some governing power wants to control its population, its citizenship, and they do this by cutting them off from outside influences, indoctrinating them into a certain belief system and way of thinking. We see this, for example, in countries today like China and North Korea. This all is represented in AoT through the erasure of human history outside the walls, and the altering of historical texts to push the narrative that all record of human history older than 100 years has been lost. The ruling government, in this case, has forced generation after generation to be taught that humanity simply doesn’t EXIST outside the walls, thus stomping out any hope or ambition to get outside those walls, and interact with the outside world. If there’s nothing there to find, then why bother? Of course, it’s an imperfect system, given it’s essentially impossible to quell human curiosity and, as another prominent theme in SnK, the desire for freedom, to be able to choose for oneself and have agency over your own destiny, etc... Not only does the Royal Government employ these false teachings as a way of controlling the populace, but of course, also, the threat of the Titans beyond the wall. If the “reality” that there’s nothing left of humanity out there isn’t enough to stop the more curious and skeptical among the population, then the threat of a horrific and painful death should do the trick.

If you study any sort of regime throughout human history that utilizes terror as a means of control, one thing they often do is get rid of the smart people first. They cull intellectuals, artists, philosophers, etc... They kill them or censor them so that they can’t influence or impact the general populace with rebellious notions, or instigate in people any ideas that their government might not be treating them right. They want there to be no contention, no differential in thought, no real ideas or any sort of chance for clashes among groups. They want everyone to look, act, think and feel the same, because when that’s the case, fewer quarrels arise, fewer tensions, fewer instances of rebellion, fewer cases of people clashing with one another, for various reasons, which can lead to critical thinking and ideas forming, to thought patterns and beliefs being challenged. They want everyone to just sit quietly and not THINK. They also, often, will target minority groups, and cast them into a kind of scapegoat role, a target for the general populace to aim their grievances at, to blame all their problems on, directing their unhappiness away from the true source of their woes, that being the government itself. This is something we often see throughout human history. One of the most prominent and tragic examples is the Jews in Nazi Germany. Jews were, at first, skewered and debased through propaganda, painting them as the enemy of Germans, the great source of all of Germany’s plights and woes, essentially working the populace up into a frenzy of extreme feelings of bias and prejudice against them, before that escalated into gathering up and forcing them into cut off ghettos, away from the general population, before it took a much darker turn still, wherein they were gathered up and sent to death camps to be exterminated.

Within the world of AoT, the same thing happens to groups like the Ackerman’s and Asians, and whatever other, unnamed minority groups exist behind the walls. They’re persecuted, badmouthed, hunted and threatened into compliance, their ability to do business and make money, thus make a living, cut off and blocked. Pushed into a corner until they eventually start to die out.

It’s really fascinating, and brilliantly depicted by Isyama, how the Monarchy’s self-delusion leads them to believe they’re preserving peace and prosperity for the homogeneous population by hunting down and terrorizing groups of minority bloodlines and ethnicity’s and races, creating for these subsets of people a world and a life of endless suffering, and blinding themselves to their own, tyrannical exercise of power over a large population. Of course this sort of thing also leads to greed and a lust for power, a need for ever more control, ever more expansion of that power, which in turn leads to the very thing the Monarchy here claims to want to prevent, which is war. Even if the Royal Government, and the Monarchy, and the King, started out with somewhat noble intentions, it eventually morphs into a twisted and persistently corrupting power play.

There’s also the theme here of scapegoating an entire group of people, and holding them accountable for sins they themselves did not commit. We see in Historia’s memories of Frieda, and how she would at times begin acting like another person, how she became vitriolic and almost violent in telling Historia that she can “never cross the fence”, proclaiming that they’re all “sinners” and thus need to be punished by being imprisoned. This is where the original King’s philosophy begins to become deeply problematic and dangerous. In order to control the population, he’s forced each inheritor of the world’s memories to also inherit his philosophy, forcing each heir to labor under the belief that the Eldian’s are somehow responsible for the atrocities committed by their ancestors, and thus should continue to pay for them, even though not a single person at this point living behind the walls was even yet born when those atrocities were committed. The danger here is in the possibility of those people being held accountable for things they didn’t do, realizing the injustice of that, and in turn, growing angry and resentful for being made to suffer for crimes they didn’t commit. This in turn leads to a desire to hit back, to fight, to defend themselves, etc... This same scenario plays out on a smaller scale with the Ackerman’s, with the future generations of Ackerman children continuing to be hunted and persecuted, despite none of them having any knowledge whatsoever of the history of humanity or the world. It’s all a vicious cycle.

Further, this kind of attempt to play God, by dictating to an entire group of otherwise uninvolved people what they do and don’t deserve, and in turn deciding for them that they should be punished for things they did not do, is morally bankrupt. Deciding, in general, for an entire population, how they should be allowed to live is also morally bankrupt. And this exposes the Royal Government and Monarchy as corrupt, among about a million other things in story. Essentially, it’s a condemnation against the concept of any, one person having absolute power. That never ends well, for anyone.

Well, anyway, I’m just rambling at this point, lol. It’s just really fascinating and amazing how Isyama weaves all of these deep themes into his story, I think, and forces the reader to really think about these kinds of things.

Also, I missed the fight between Levi and Kenny! I’m glad they added that to the anime, haha.

I also noticed how Historia might have had an unintentional impact on what Eren later decides he has to do. She keeps going on and on here about being an “enemy of humanity” and wanting to “destroy everything”. And while Historia clearly doesn’t actually mean what she’s saying, and is only acting out in her frustration and anger at her douchebag of a father trying to manipulate her into sacrificing herself for his delusions of grandeur, what she also says to Eren about her “being humanity’s enemy, but Eren being her FRIEND.” is clear foreshadowing of what Eren later decides is his best and only course, to do whatever it takes to protect his friends, including killing the rest of humanity. This probably also ties into Eren’s choice to not reveal what he learns from his father’s memories, in an attempt to protect Historia. But I haven’t gotten to that point yet, so I’ll come back around to it later maybe.

#attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin

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mothsandbutterflies13 · 3 years

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Musings on Shadow and Bone Pt 1

Disclaimer: this is some VERY surface-level thoughts and musings on what I was able to see, what I've gleaned from reading the already-prolific selection that is the Shadow and Bone fanfiction writings, and my own experiences with YA fantasy and YA character archetypes. I haven't read the books and I don't know if I will because, APPARENTLY, DARKLINA ISN'T ENDGAME! As for the TV series, I've only watched the first two episodes in full. I jumped around the rest of the season and I've never seen the ending. Though, knowing what I do from the few spoiler screenshots I've seen, I don't think I'll ever watch the ending.

Story Narrative and World-building: So, for the uninitiated, Shadow and Bone is set in a fantasy/steampunk world based on several different regions of the world in different time periods. Ravka is based on Tsarist Russia in the early 19th century. Kerch is based on the Dutch Republic in the same time period. Shu Han is an amalgamation of Imperial China and Mongolia (probably during the Yuan dynasty). And Fjerda is based on Scandinavia. (Noyvi Zem is said to be based on the US, Australia, and some other places, but as the Netflix series didn't touch on it, neither am I.) Between the three mainland countries - Ravka, Shu Han, and Fjerda - there has been an ongoing war for an undetermined amount of time. Ravka is also facing a growing threat of secession in the west because of the Fold that has been separating the west from the east for five centuries now. In the middle of all this, we meet our female protagonist, Alina Starkov, and her childhood best friend, Malyen Oretsev, who are soldiers in the First Ravkan Army. While crossing the Fold on assignment, Alina discovers that she is the legendary Sun Summoner, the only hope to tear down the Fold. She now needs to cultivate her powers in the political cesspool that is Os Alta and the court of the Tsar, all the while trying to figure out her feelings for General Kirigan of the Second Army and if Mal really is just a childhood best friend. Meanwhile, in Ketterdam, it seems that someone is willing to pay a million kruge for the Sun Summoner to be kidnapped then transported back to Ketterdam. Kaz Brekker and his gang, the Crows, seize on the huge payout (each for their own reasons) and cross the Fold with the help of a smuggler. So, that's a very basic rundown of the first two episodes of the first season. Now, I get to dig into my favorite part; dissection and analysis! First, there seemed to be a lot of details pertinent to the plot that were either only mentioned or never touched upon. Like, Kaz is shown to be desperate for this payout, but other than natural human greed for more money, I can't think of why he'd want to risk crossing the Fold to grab someone that may not be alive. But, from what I saw of Kaz, this seemed to be more than just another job to him. There was something more to his motivation but we were never told what. Or how the Fold is never really explained until the General takes Alina out on a horse riding date. Long after she's found out to be the Sun Summoner. However, the Fold in itself is a catalyst to a lot of events, both past and present, so it doesn't make sense that it would take this long for such an important landmark to be explained to the audience. No matter that the in-world characters would know this fact, we as the audience don't know. Also, we never learn WHY Ravka is in a never-ending war with Fjerda and Shu Han. Theoretically, I could come up with half a dozen reasons for WHY but I'd like some clarification, ya know? The irrationality of humans, a religious war (looking at you, Fjerda), gluttony for knowledge, propaganda, fear of the unknown, etc. Any one of these could be a reason for how the war started (or it could be a twisted version of the truth), but we're not told or shown. We're just expected to believe there's this great big war that affects everyone in Ravka. That's a HUGE suspension of disbelief for me. Also, I read on the wiki that Shu Han and Fjerden tech are equal to - and in some cases greater - than Ravkan tech. Ergo, why the fuck is this war still going on!? If two out of the three warring countries can essentially just technologically smash their way through the remaining country's army, why does Shadow and Bone exist? I want to know why this war still exists. I want to know the reasoning behind the secessionists. I want to know what religion Inej subscribes to. Who are the Saints Alina keeps referring to in her frequent exclamations? The infamous pickled herring I've read about? The war and the toll it takes on the people. I want to see this war hit close to home for, not just Alina, but also the rest of the cast. I

know Alina was orphaned by a Shu Han raid when she was a child, but that can't have been the only raid. Just because permafrost and some mountains separate Fjerda and Ravka doesn't mean that those druskelle or even the Fjerdan army will take a break. The goddamned Fire Nation was a group of islands far removed from the mainland, yet still managed to build a navy on a scale never before seen and attacked the other three nations resulting in a century-long war. As far as Shadow and Bone canon goes, these wars have been practically non-stop for waaaaay longer than that and you're telling me neither Fjerda nor Shu Han have figured out how to launch a full-scale attack against Ravka? And if they haven't or held back for some reason, then please enlighten me (really, I unironically want to know) (And don't tell me to go read the books). Because from where I'm sitting, that Lantsov dynasty is looking mighty weak and corrupt. A few well-placed words and that entire house of cards would crumble. And with such a weak tsar and enemies closing in from all sides, why doesn't Aleksander unleash his full potential? I'm not saying create another Fold, but isn't he supposed to be the most powerful grisha in all of Ravka? What are the politics at court? What's preventing Aleksander from taking that final step? Are there possible allies among the courtiers who would be sympathetic to the Grisha plight? Who also agrees that the current Tsar is weak, corrupt, and draining the treasury? I want to know if there was ever another way for Aleksander to achieve his goals without resorting to violence and bloodshed. I want to know what else Alina can do with her powers, barring balls of light and one shield. What's Kaz's motivation for accepting the job? Are Ivan and Fedyor ever going to get together!? So many questions but no answers.

Something a bit nitpicky, but why are these characters all speaking with British accents!? (Don't @ me with Nina and Matthias cuz I skipped over their scenes) (They weren't Darklina, ok!?) The ONLY character to speak with a BELIEVABLE Slavic accent was Fedyor and that's only because the actor was from a Slavic-speaking country. Everyone else, from Alina down to the soldiers in the First Army, all speak with a British accent. I thought Ravka was based on Tsarist Russia. Where's my Russian then? Or at least Russian accents? I thought TV shows were supposed to be immersive. What the fuck is this then? (Game of Thrones got away with it because it was mainly set in a world similar to our own, but vastly different in terms of culture and religion. It even made up two languages to make it more immersive. Shadow and Bone doesn't necessarily have to do that because it's so similar to real-life Russia that all it had to do to score immersive points was have the actors speak in believable Russian accents.)

I will post part two later. Again, this is literally all just my opinion and my thoughts on the show. I don't mind friendly discourse and debate but I won't be merciful to trolls.

#Shadow and Bone #The Grishaverse #Story narrative #worldbuilding #Darklina is endgame #Sorry Mal stans #Came for Ben Barnes #Definitely stayed because of Jesper #Inej over here making all my Assassin dreams come true.

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tigerkirby215 · 4 years

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5e Tahm Kench, the River King build (League of Legends)

(Artwork by Pan Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)

I guess I’ve still got demons on the mind after Halloween. Truth be told while I do hope to someday make a build for every champ I’m very hesitant to make builds for the “monsterous” champs. Cho’Gath, Kog’Maw, and Tahm Kench were all on that list for one reason and one reason alone: you can’t say “I puke on / eat / lick the enemy” without drawing a few strange glances. But the good folk over at Doran’s & Dragons did a Tahm Kench build and while I get where they were going for I’m personally not the biggest fan.

D’s&Ds tries to capture the flavor of the character much more than their abilities, which I can greatly appreciate. I think if you want a smooth-talking demon who swindles people out of everything, including their lives, than D’s&Ds’ build for Tahm is great. But I’m more interested in the mechanics of Tahm Kench: with literal thick skin to absorb incoming damage, a tongue that can leave our opponents stunned, and the ability to... vore your friends to keep them out of harm’s way.

No there aren’t vanilla rules for eating your friends alive! It’s all going to be reflavoring! See this is exactly why I didn’t want to do Tahm.

GOALS

I am enthralled by your class and refinement - Tahm Kench is a demon of greed, luring in unsuspecting hopefuls with promises of prosperity. We’ll need a tongue as sharp as a sword, and a sword as sharp as our tongue.

You have succeeded only in ruffling my attire! - To walk around looking like a Disney Caricature you need to have some thick skin. While other champs wear armor Tahm just has Thick Skin.

All the world's a river; and I'm its king - With a mouth that big you’ve gotta put it to good use, helping your allies across the river... regardless of if they want to go. (Well, most spells that target allies in D&D have to be willing...)

RACE

While I appreciate D’s&D and their take by making Tahm Kench a Locatha they were made for a Second Life charity module, which means they’re not officially endorsed at Adventurer’s League or other such gatherings. Also the friend who shares content with me on D&D Beyond doesn’t own Locatha Rising.

Also technically this build isn’t AL legal since it uses multiple sourcebooks (Mordenkainen's + others) so uhhhh...

Also this build is going to use a subclass that wasn’t available when D’s&D made their build.

With that being said Two-Coats is a demon so we’ll go for the demon race: Tiefling! More specifically we’ll get acquainted with the icy depths of the river as a Levistus Tiefling. Levistus Tieflings see their Charisma score increase by 2 and their Constitution increase by 1 for some protection thanks to the cold. Additionally you get some innate spells thanks to Legacy of Stygia, which I’ll cover when they come up.

All Tieflings have 60 feet of Darkvision, Hellish Resistance to Fire damage, and the ability to speak Common and Infernal. The only thing that changes with your Tiefling subrace is your ability scores and your innate spellcasting, and truly your brand of demon doesn’t matter much. "Call me king, call me demon - water forgets the names of the drowned."

ABILITY SCORES

15; CHARISMA - For a truly delicious meal you need to soften them up a little first. Take it smooth and let them relax before going in for the kill.

14; CONSTITUTION - Kench is a chunky lad who can take quite a beating. It takes more than a blade to slay the king.

13; STRENGTH - You need quite the strong stomach to hold down tougher meals. “Needs salt!”

12; WISDOM - You need a bit of natural intuition to know how folk tick.

10; INTELLIGENCE - Live long enough and you learn quite a bit. At least enough to promise knowledge to anyone looking for it.

8; DEXTERITY - As said before the river king is a large demon of a man, who can take as much time as he wants to get a meal.

BACKGROUND

No surprises here: Tahm Kench is a Charlatan, swindling folk all across Runeterra out of everything they once owned... including their lives.

Well, maybe a few surprises. You will still be taking Deception but instead of Slight of Hand take Persuasion proficiency, because you’re more of a smooth talker than a con artist. I’m also going to suggest taking two Languages instead of two Tools: take whatever language you think you may need, but to talk your way to your next meal they’ll have to be able to understand you.

Regardless you can’t have them knowing your a demon, so take a False Identity as the king. Most folk think you’re a kind soul, with plenty to back you up. And you can always get any papers they may desire.

(Artwork by Alex “alexplank” Flores. Made for Riot Games.)

THE BUILD

LEVEL 1 - FIGHTER 1

Starting off as a Fighter because funny Constitution saving throws, among other things. "My constitution is unflappable!" Regardless you get proficiency in two skills from the Fighter list so take Insight and Athletics to know who’s ready to be carried down river.

You also get a Fighting Style of your choice and while I’d love to get a Reach weapon or indeed any two-handed weapon one of Tahm Kench’s best assets is the Protection he can provide his allies. For this you’ll need a shield (and you can take a regular Strength weapon along side it) but if an attack is coming their way you can grab them in your maw to give the attack disadvantage... Or you could not vore your allies, and take the Defense Fighting Style instead to get more AC.

Well at least if anyone gets mad at all the vore comments you can tank it with your Thick Skin and regenerate it with Second Wind. (The Fighter ability, not the rune in the Resolve tree.) And to fight back with a lashing of your tongue Ray of Frost from Legacy of Stygia will do some damage at range and slow down your foes. It’s not a stun yet... not yet.

LEVEL 2 - BARD 1

What? Did you think we wouldn’t have some tricks of the charmer’s trade? As a Bard you get one proficiency in any skill and one instrument proficiency. Choose Intimidation because my what big teeth you have! (But truthfully take whatever proficiency works for your party, as Tahm Kench can be whatever you want him to be.) As for instrument I’m going to have to go for Lute: it’s the closest you’ll get to a tongue guitar, and don’t you dare say “tongue guitar” at your D&D table.

Regardless Bards get Bardic Inspiration at first level, to make sure you fulfill the support role through the use of honeyed words and sweet nothings. You get a pool of d6s that you can give to an ally to add to their attack rolls, skill checks, or saving throws. You can give a d6 as an action and have a number of them equal to your proficiency bonus, and regain them all at the end of a long rest.

But wait! There’s more! You also get Spellcasting as a Bard: you get two cantrips from the Bard list. A man of fine tastes needs to keep his outfit in check, so take Mending to do that. Vicious Mockery meanwhile will let you use that trademark Tahm Kench sharp tongue (not the literal sharp tongue) to taunt your foes and make it harder for them to hurt your allies. "The baseness of your appetite repulses me!"

As for leveled spells you can pick four of them at first level: naturally you’ll need Charm Person to tempt mortals with pleasing bargains. To worry them that you’re coming to collect Dissonant Whispers will fill their minds with unease. To open up your foes for your friends to take them down Bane will loosen their resolve. And to make sure everyone laughs at your jokes? Tasha’s Hideous Laughter.

LEVEL 3 - BARD 2

Second level Bards are Jack of All Trades, letting you add half your proficiency bonus to any skill you’re not proficient in. Tahm Kench is a demon, and he needs to be able to help wherever he can to tempt others to ask him for help.

Speaking of help you also get Song of Rest to give allies an extra d6 of healing during short rests. Since I doubt Tahm Kench is much of a singer, consider this more of him telling stories of grandeur that only the king of river would know. Or perhaps you’re cooking everyone some food? Who knows.

And finally you can learn another spell, but I’m actually going to wait for next level since we’ve gotten all the first level spells we really need already. But you do get Armor of Agathys thanks to Legacy of Stygia, for some Thornmail to boost your defenses.

LEVEL 4 - BARD 3

Third level Bards get Expertise in two skills to double your proficiency bonus: naturally we’ll go for Deception and Persuasion to have little trouble striking up a bargain.

But much more importantly you get to choose your Bardic College, and I think it’s safe to say that Tahm Kench is a self-taught master of the College of Eloquence. Eloquence Bards have a Silver Tongue, making any roll below a 10 on a Persuasion or a Deception role default to a 10. Notice how we just gave ourselves Expertise on those checks? This means that the lowest you can get on one of these checks is a 17, which for most folk is an automatic success! "How delectable!"

Additionally, your works make it harder to resist the effects of magic. Unsettling Words lets you spend a Bonus Action to roll Bardic Inspiration on an enemy. The next saving throw they make they have to subtract the number you rolled on the Inspiration die. This has synergy with both yourself and your friends. Honey your words before charming folk to hear you, or soften up a foe for some crazy mage to take them down.

Speaking of crazy mage: more spells! The great part about a character like Tahm Kench is that I am completely justified taking utility / roleplay spells like Gift of Gab, letting you backtrack in case you say something silly during a conversation. (With a small royalty fee to the good folk over at Acquisitions Incorporated, of course.) But if you want something more immediately useful then Hold Person will let you stun foes with your words, keeping them in place for allies to cut them down.

LEVEL 5 - BARD 4

Fourth level Bards get an Ability Score Improvement but I’m going to suggest something a little different. Old Yawn-Belly is a demon with a hunger for fine clothes so there shouldn’t be much issue taking the Eldritch Adept Unearthed Arcana feat, soon to be in Tasha’s Cauldron of Everything! With a Mask of Many Faces you can cast Disguise Self at will. This will let you wear a fine jacket while still being in heavy armor. "How did I leave my jacket pocket unadorned for so long?"

I really like unlimited Disguise Self for Tahm Kench for a number of reasons. It’s said that he can take whatever form he desires to lure in his victims, which makes sense given the nature of his character. Unlimited Disguise Self also obviously has use for a charmer, letting you get away with a lot more discussion than normal. But the most important thing is that while Tahm Kench doesn’t wear anything heavy in-game he’s far from stealthy. But disguising your armor doesn’t make it any quieter, which is unironically perfect for our affairs.

Regardless you can learn another spell at this level, along with another cantrip. For your cantrip Prestidigitation is great for life’s simple pleasures, recreating simple things like heating food, chilling drinks, or making things taste like whatever you desire.

For leveled spells may I make a suggestion of the Suggestion spell? It’ll let you make simple suggestions for things that folks should do, and they’ll be inclined to do it. They won’t do anything dangerous like stand in the jaws of a demon, but asking them to walk alone down river is a pretty harmless ask. Oh and to top it off a Tiefling gets Darkness at 5th level, thanks to Legacy of Stygia.

(Artwork by robynlauart on DeviantArt)

LEVEL 6 - BARD 5

5th level Bards get Font of Inspiration to recover their Bardic Inspiration at the end of a Short Rest, which is good because your Bardic Inspiration also increases to a d8.

Additionally you can learn third level spells like Sending to check up on some old deals. If you can’t tell it’s really hard to translate Bard spells onto Tahm Kench, but we kinda need a few more levels in this class.

LEVEL 7 - BARD 6

6th level Eloquence Bards get Unfailing Inspiration. If an ally uses your Bardic Inspiration but still don’t succeed on their roll, they get to keep the die. Simple! You also get Universal Speech, allowing you to choose a number of creatures equal to your Charisma modifier to understand anything you may say. There’s no reason you can’t strike a deal with the local wildlife. And finally you get Countercharm for some Tenacity against Charms and Frightening effects, or you could not do that.

Unfortunately you can’t understand them when you use Universal Speech, but that’s where the spell Tongues comes in. Along with ha ha Tahm Kench Tongue you can make sure anyone understand what you or an ally might be saying. Keep Universal Speech for the simpletons of the world. "You're strong like bull, and smart like cow."

LEVEL 8 - BARD 7

7th level Bards finally get 4th level spells, and as we know "It is my mouth into which all travels end." Take Dimension Door to grab a friend (in your mouth... or not) and go far and wide.

LEVEL 9 - BARD 8

8th level Bards get an Ability Score Improvement and seeing as our last ASI went to getting a top hat we may as well increase that uneven Strength and Charisma.

You can also learn another spell and there are quite a few nice ones at 4th level. Confusion and Compulsion will let your words do the fighting for you, and Locate Creature will help you find anyone looking for a bargain. Or of course you could take your own spell, since these builds are only suggestions after all.

(Artwork by MirthSpindle on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 10 - FIGHTER 2

Now that we can get people to sign a contract it’s time to take what’s rightfully ours. But firstly Fighters get Action Surge at second level to take two actions on a turn. Perhaps a Hail of Blades, or maybe a mix of words to sully the mind?

LEVEL 11 - FIGHTER 3

Third level Fighters can choose their Martial Archetype and to master your tongue in more ways than one (not like that you perv) look no further than the Battle Master Fighter. You get d8 Combat Superiority Die that can fuel a variety of manuevers:

To stun a foe with your lashing tongue take Trip Attack, for a little more than just stopping them in their tracks.

To grab an ally in your mouth (or preferably not doing that) Maneuvering Attack will let you get them to move somewhere safe without being in danger of getting attacked themselves.

And to play the tank role of the party Goading Attack will taunt your enemies so that they can only concentrate on you. You can take it: you have Thick Skin!

But of course most importantly you are a Student of War, granting proficiency in an Artisan’s Tool of your choice. If you’re going to write contracts you’re going to need good penmanship, so grab proficiency in Calligrapher’s Supplies as the pen is mightier than the sword and Tulok the Barbrarian memes shall live on eternally.

LEVEL 12 - FIGHTER 4

4th level means more Ability Score Improvements and... you know? I don’t think we’re nearly tanky enough! Infernal Constitution is a feat exclusive to Tieflings that grants resistance to Cold and Poison damage, as well as the poisoned condition. And it increases your Constitution by 1 as well. "My visage was already flawless, now it just has more vigor."

LEVEL 13 - FIGHTER 5

5th level Fighters get an Extra Attack for two attacks instead of one, or four with Action Surge! Quick and easy!

(Artwork by benlo on DeviantArt.)

LEVEL 14 - FIGHTER 6

Hey more Ability Score Improvements! You know despite intending to swing a sword around your Strength is rather subpar, so perhaps increase that. (This also finally lets you put on Platemail.)

LEVEL 15 - FIGHTER 7

A friend is an enemy who hasn’t shown their true self yet, so you can know your friends with Know Your Enemy. By spending a minute studying someone you can learn if they’re worth bargaining with. You can learn their Strength, Dexterity, Constitution, Armor, Hit Points, Level, and Fighter level. Most NPCs don’t have class levels, but knowing how hard you need to hit them could help the whole party.

You also get two more Maneuvers: Evasive Footwork will let you dash off to safety, and while disarming isn’t common in Runeterra Disarming Strike seems quite in flavor for someone as... dexterous as yourself.

LEVEL 16 - FIGHTER 8

Isn’t Fighter fun when you increase your abilities every other level? Your Strength is still kinda godawful so good for that if you’d please.

LEVEL 17 - FIGHTER 9

9th level Fighters get Indomitable. If you fail a saving throw you can reroll it. You only get one of these per Long Rest so use it on a save you’re likely to succeed on like Strength, Constitution, Charisma, or... well yeah basically those three.

(Artwork by davicomodo on DeviantArt. They deactivated their account though: sad.)

LEVEL 18 - FIGHTER 10

10th level Fighters get Improved Combat Superiority. Now your d8s are d10s!

You know what else that means? More Maneuvers! To absorb even more damage Parry will give you some Bone Plating for absorption. If however by this point an ally of yours can do a lot more damage with their weapon then Commander’s Strike will let you set them up for the Pentakill!

LEVEL 19 - FIGHTER 11

11th level Fighters get another Extra Attack for 3 attacks per round. That’s enough for your three-hit passive!

LEVEL 20 - FIGHTER 12

12th level Fighters get our final Ability Score Improvement: for stronger charms and more smooth-talking to both ally and foe, take Charisma. For a different type of stronger tongue with deadlier maneuvers grab Strength instead. And if you just want to be a chunky tanky conman then Constitution is also an option!

FINAL BUILD

PROS

Every heart has its own hunger - Despite not maxing out your Charisma you’re still the king of speech. +16 in Deception and Persuasion with your lowest possible roll being a 10. That means the lowest you can get on these rolls is a 26! Not to mention that Jack of All Trades as a Bard makes you plenty good at any skill the party may need help with, and unlimited Disguise Self letting you take whatever role is needed.

Every river ends in me! - You are also a very good team player. Bardic Inspiration that never fails, tons of different ways to hold the enemy down, and several options to help your friends while they’re in a jam. "Travel awaits."

You have succeeded only in ruffling my attire! - Wow who would’ve guessed that building a tanky character to be a tank would make them tanky? You should have quite the solid healthbar and resistances to three very common damage types is nothing to scoff at, not to mention that you can wear Heavy Armor and a Shield for crazy high AC.

CONS

Are you the waiter of this establishment? - Most of your abilities rely on charges of some kind. While Maneuvers and Bardic Inspiration comes back on a Short Rest spell slots only come back after a Long one, and you don’t have many spell slots to spare.

I wonder who might like to bargain for a little freedom - This build is very ASI greedy which means a lot of your abilities are very subpar. Your low DEX score in particular is rather harsh as many dangerous spells require DEX saving throws.

Might be savory - Because this build is so ASI greedy your stats still aren’t maxed out. +3 to CON and +4 to CHA are great and all but they aren’t +5, ya know? And even with Jack of All Trades your skill checks aren’t going to beat out a specialist.

But you don’t need to be a god to sign a deal; a demon does it just as well. Master your articulation so that you can be sharp with your tongue in whatever means necessary. Bargain with your allies and seal the deal on your foes, and for the love of all that is good in the world don’t vore anyone! Jeeze!

(Artwork by Pan Chengwei. Made for Riot Games.)

#dnd #dnd 5e #dnd build #dnd guide #League of Legends #League of Legends Tahm Kench #Tahm Kench #river king #dnd fighter #dnd bard

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wxldchxld · 3 years

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The World, The Star, The Hanged Man (for Beck) & The Fool, Judgment, The Devil (for Harper)

The World: What has been your muse’s greatest success?

Beck's greatest success is definitely her ability to utilize her power without going feral (aka, giving herself over to the nature spirit entirely). She is one of very few witches in my lore that has mastered more than one animal form, and the only witch that has learned to shift into a bird that wasn't born into a bird clan.

Her influence over animals is just as impressive, and also connected. It even extends to magical creatures (though not without limitation).

The Star: If your muse had one wish, what would it be?

As much as Beck wishes her father had never died or that Dawnbreaker had never been murdered, I don't think she'd actually wish for them back if the chance came. She's smart enough to understand messing with the past can have major impacts on the future.

So I'd say her wish would either by for her brother to find peace and happiness or for her to be able to see Dawnbreaker again.

The Hanged Man: Name a bad habit your muse can’t give up.

Biting people for no goddamn reason. She will never stop. Also I guess smoking but idk if that’s a bad habit bc in Beck’s case it can’t like... make her sick.

For Harper:

The Fool: What is the stupidest thing your muse has ever done?

There are a handful of vampires that Harper wishes she hadn’t made. When she was first trying to start her business, she had to rub elbows with some pretty gross billionaires. Her initial offer to them was eternal life (vampirism) in exchange for extremely large sums of money. However as I’m sure everyone could imagine, these old white men who were used to power and greed and disregarding the safety/comfort of others didn’t turn out to have the best control over their thirst.

Unfortunately she had to be the one to personally end them. If whatever special organization or task force that exists in that universe (SHIELD, SCP Foundation, etc) managed to capture them, they would certainly discover what she was doing and end her. So she had to undertake the arduous task of getting rid of them on herself.

These days she’s much more careful who she gives immortal life to, and when she does, she is careful to put loopholes into the contract that would allow them to be disposed of easily should they step out of line.

Judgement: Would your muse ever go back to their most recent ex-lover?

That would be Beck and the answer is yes. I'm still not sure if Harper ever moves on from Beck and currently I won't role play it because I'm still trying to get my head around it.

Ultimately while there would be a lot of pain, and they'd probably need a lot of help to move forward, Harper acknowledges that she made a lot of mistakes that didn't exactly make life easy for Beck. She still very much loves her, and would be willing to work on compromises if Beck would just come home.

The Devil: What was the worst relationship your muse has ever had?

I’m struggling to understand whether or not this is romantic. Romantically it’d probably be Beck? And that’s really confusing given all I just said but Beck kind of wins not because they were super toxic but kinda by default.

Beck and Harper dated when they were teens. Harper dated one person before Beck, a teen boy in her class at school (she wasn’t home schooled like most witches), but even at the time Harper knew she wasn’t really interested. But all of her friends were interested in boys and she figured if she tried hard enough she’d be interested too. She wasn’t, and their relationship didn’t get much farther than a few very awkward movie dates.

Beck was the first person Harper properly dated, and when they broke up so that Harper could go to NYC, it was really hard on both of them. Harper didn’t understand why Beck couldn’t go, and Beck was too scared to tell her. Harper left, and she wasn’t in any kind of head space to have another relationship. Shortly thereafter, she began her mentorship to become a necromancer. Between the long hours and the fact she was absolutely miserable having to put up with her trainer, she didn’t really want to be with anyone.

She’s had some casual relationships and a couple like d/s partners but new relationships for Harper tend to fall apart. They lack the advantage Beck had as someone who knew Harper before all the walls came up. The romance faded into either friendship or dissolved altogether, and the d/s were mutually short, with each party knowing what they were getting out of it from the start.

So yeah... I guess Beck wins by default because as much as Harper still loves her, she broke her heart.

If we’re talking about in general it’s with her mentor who taught her necromancy.

#hc #hc: harper

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lotornomiko · 4 years

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Dark Enchanted Forest AU That I don't Yet Have A Title For Chapter Two (worksafe)

Still hasn’t reached the dark fic level....but warnings as with chapter one, this WILL have some non con/forced seduction/rape and other dark themes...but not in this chapter!!

https://archiveofourown.org/works/26137747/chapters/63588682

It was never more brilliant than in moments like this, the light alive in her green eyes, and burning with an open defiance. With that desperate anger, and an inner borne strength, it left the Darkness with no doubts about just what it was dealing with.

“Beautiful…” It breathed out the word with a tongue long unused to such flattering words, the Dark more intimately familiar with uttering vile promises, and snarling with rage. But then it had never had real reason for much of anything else, everything so weak and unworthy when compared to this. The vision with that glow about her, the small super nova of pure and unabashed light that once seen could never be forgot. Nor did it want to, the dark transfixed by the light, by its wholesome purity and natural warmth.

It left the Dark One wanting to bask in its presence, to curl up and around it like a dragon hoarding its greatest treasure. It wanted MORE than that, the darkness needing to take so fully from the light as to devour it from shining head to delectable toe. Possessive to a fault, the dark creature wanted to OWN this light, every last inch of it, from the inside out, to the body who played host to it, to the soul it was interlaced with.

That was the vessel’s one and only saving grace, the light she was blessed with, the reason why the woman wasn’t dead on the forest floor. The light marked her as special, and painted a target effectively on her back. She was branded and beaming, and so unequivocally HIS. Now more than ever, the dark ready to toss his head back and laugh, that taunting sound one of pure victory, the light reborn in a form that the dark could now possess.

Made giddy with that realization, and the thoughts of what would soon follow, it was that elation AND the pain of a sword piercing true the heart of the Dark One’s host, that afforded a slim window of chance. Another being inside him began to stir, one Killian Jones reluctantly opening HIS eyes after nearly two decades of sleep.

“Ow.” said the man swallowed up by the dark, but that complaint was more angry than hurt. It was his eyes that blinked against the blinding light, his hand that raised to shield THEIR eyes from the vision before them. The dark snarled at the human’s impertinence, Killian Jones showing more initiative than he had in a good long century.

The dark turned furious, and ever a jealous thing, made a grab for the light that was still working on stabbing them. Weak though the effort was, it would have proven effective, had the creature that light was up against, been something that could actually DIE. It couldn’t. Not from that sword, not from any of those arrows, not from anything those pathetic mortal hands could devise. The dark, an absolute being, would ALWAYS exist, in one form or another, so long as a single human knew fear, knew hate, or greed, the many violent desires, the angry little impulses, and the innate terror of the unknown. It was that of their undesirable natures that had called the eldritch being into existence, the dark one borne the first time the first human had shown fear.

That fear the palpable scent that had called to the dark from out of the primordial ooze, it had brought with it the corruption and lust that has plagued humankind. Every last undesirable sin, the Dark One has been there for it all, spawning wars, causing untold devastation, as human after human ultimately turned on one another. Stealing, murdering, even torturing, it had been an unbridled chaos for so many a millennia, the people thrust into a nightmare seeming without end.

With no hope, and no chance to do—be better, the people had been in need of a savior. They got one in the form of a Goddess like no other, that ethereal shine that blazed brighter than any sun, splitting into the dark, bringing kindness and daylight to a humanity that had been suffering. She was everything the dark was not, so beautiful and sublime, and so uniquely her own.

The Dark lusting for the first time ever, could not be beaten back fully by that light. Anymore than that bright beam of purity, could be extinguished by the dark. They were forced to coexist, the light the yin to the yang of the dark one. Just like the cycle of night and day, the dark was in perpetual chase of that sun, its greedy nature one that had a violent want, a need to possess so fully the light, and spirit it away from the eyes of all.

For many a millennia, a status quo had existed, the dark’s evil corrupting influence, somewhat tempered by the light of day. Calmed but not snuffed out completely, man an inherently wicked creature by nature. The light tried to be the guiding force needed, but with no real tangible presence to either of them, the humans soon moved on, forgetting that there was more to the night, and more to the day.

Abandoned, the light neither held a grudge, nor grew forgetful of those people, so young and child like in mind, when compared to the two beings who held such immense power over them. No longer acknowledge, both the light and the dark merely existed as whispers in ears, the light full of love and encouragement, sparking a great many things, works of arts, whole civilizations, love and an appreciation of all life, hers was a message of hope and peace that the darkness ever sought to distort. Where her love saw great teeming cities born, the dark’s lust had those kingdoms fight, war devastating the land and everyone around it.

The dark wasn’t satisfied with just wars. It was crazed for the light that was never in true reach, and its impotent fury at being denied, backlash onto the humans, in creatively cruel ways. A new kind of murderer was born, a depraved mind that got off on the ritualistic killing of people, no rhyme or real reason behind such an act except to cause new found heights of suffering among what the light considered her children.

Serial killers, rapists, torture most foul, the lust and greed to expand an empire, to take everything from another, all ideas the dark planted in the depths of human kind. Husbands turn against wives, parents against children, abuse of all kind being birthed, the dark determined to make depraved all that which the light had gifted to the people.

Rampaging wild and free, the light could tolerate no more the dark’s cruel nature. The dark remembers that too, the day when the final straw that broke the proverbial camel’s back, came. The elation that it had felt, the euphoric feeling to finally be a few steps in reach of the trembling light. They had no real forms, lacked any true substance to them, and yet the dark crowded in close all the same. Eating away at the edge of the light’s shine, coming closer and closer, coiling around it as a thick wispy smoke that would cover and snuff that brilliance from the world.

Ready to take the light for its own, the dark moved those last inches, eager tendrils reaching for that purity. There was no hesitation, only greed and the need to possess, to be the soul keeper of the light. The warmth the dark experienced at that first touch could have melted glaciers, so potent a heat was it, leaving the darkness to purr and bask in its strength.

It had been a strength the darkness should have heeded, a danger there it had not taken notice of. It curled closer and tighter around the light, until only a sliver of it was left to be seen, and THAT is when it had happened. Such power unlike anything the dark had expected, that warmth a violence unbecoming of the light. It beat back the dark, sent him torpedoing a great distance into a mountain which decimated on the spot.

At first, the Dark One was confused, not understanding why such an impact could be FELT. The dark, like the light had no tangible form, all ethereal smoke and effervescence brilliance. He struggled beneath the crumbling ruins of the mountain, felt the dust from the wreckage settle thickly on his BODY. An inhale brought with it smoke that made the darkness choke, its eyes watering in response as bit by bit, the realizations came. Two arms, two legs, a torso, a head and a beating heart.

“What have you done...” A cracked voice demanded. “What have you done…!?” He stared up at a light that was dwindling, falling down in a shower of these faded remnant that could barely be called sparks. At the sight of them, the last dying breath of the light, the dark lurched forward, barely registering his speed. Trying to catch hold of any and all that he could reach, the exhausted remnants of light faded from existence, leaving only a warmth that quickly cooled into cold metal.

Its fingers curled around it, uncaring of the way the blade bit and bled its skin. That unwanted heart beat a thunderous sound, deafening the dark to its screams, the creature raging, barely able to comprehend, the light gone from this world. The dark one was besides himself, hating the light for its trickery, but also feeling an emptiness inside it at its loss. The dark so bereft and inconsolable, could not do anything but mourn, an inhuman sound of pain bellowing throughout the cosmos.

The dark knows exactly to the day, how long it has been since the light left him. Can count it down to the exact second, entire millennia having passed, the dark left to rampage and riot retaliation upon the light’s beloved children. It mattered not what form he wore, what human hosted him, the dark always found a way to ultimately corrupt and overpower its bearer, discarding bodies as easily as one might trash.

Filth that he considered the humans to be, it was not just the dark who took notice of the light. Of the form it now inhabited. It felt the man’s appreciation, and the dawning horror at the sight.

“No...No...No!” Killian Jones screamed from inside, trying to wrest control of a body that was no longer truly his. The dark held them still for this, turning inwards as though to slap the human inside him quiet.

“I can’t do this...” Killian Jones whispered in a broken tone of voice. “I can’t be the instrument that lets you torture and kill yet another!”

The dark bared its teeth in a snarl, more than a reprimand held in its claws. It scraped those sharp tips over the man’s SOUL, heard the satisfying sound of his pained response. Between that and the all too real sword piercing Killian Jones’ heart, the man was in a world of hurt.

“Stop it...” He begged, weak as ever. “STOP IT!” It was no strength to stand up to the power backlash off of the creature so wholly in control. Inside the vessel, the human that hosted the darkness, fell to his knees in sobbing pain.

Satisfied with the sight, the dark turned its attention back to the light. It was still as brilliant a gleam as ever, all gold and shining, with a tiny hint of jade peeking through. It was beautiful, a stunning vision fit only for the dark, its lips curving into a wicked smile.

“Caught you at long last.” Came the taunt. Its hand around the light’s delicate wrist, began to squeeze, and a gasp from its host was heard. She could not maintain her grip on the sword, and the dark did not relax its punishing grip, pulling her off balance, even as wispy tendrils of ink black smoke began washing over that weapon.

“Just WHAT were you thinking?” The Darkness demanded, the sword melting into nothing with a demonstration of power. “Coming here with a weapon you know can do no damage.”

“I...I had to try.” Came the pained answer, the Dark One still squeezing her wrist just short of breaking. “Someone has to...someone WILL put an end to you and your reign of terror!”

That wasn’t the light, the dark grabbing its host by the throat, cutting off her words and her air. “We BOTH know better than that.” It leaned into her, breathing in the scent of her sweat and fear, a tongue snaking out to lick a cheek clean of a single tear.

“Sweet.” The Darkness moaned. “As I always knew you would be.” Its fingers squeezed to the point of bruising, the light starting to flicker and dim. The shine went down to the point even the human could see, a despairing Killian Jones taking note in a detached kind of way, the woman’s beauty.

Long golden blonde hair, those jade green eyes that were currently welling up with tears, the pale skin made an angry pink as lushly pouting lips choked for air. Desperate and dying as she was, there was a fight to her, her free hand scrabbling at the darkness’ fist, her legs kicking out, a foot trying for the wound in his thigh. The darkness felt none of it, shuttling the pain off to the human inside, the howling screams of one Killian Jones echoing in its ears.

With that sound inside it, the dark was able to admit to the finely crafted form of the light, this human a fitting representation of what a Goddess should be. It purred its approval, pressed its body against hers, and only then did it relax its grip.

To the sound of her desperate breaths, the dark nuzzled its nose into the golden sunshine of her hair, felt the warmth flowing off of her, and let loose with its greedy nature. Hands that had just been hurtful and violent, now roamed with a blatant impudence, feeling up the shape and form of its Goddess made real, the darkness intent on learning every new inch of her.

It heard the gasp, the outrage laced in that sound. “I am Emma, Princess of Mist Haven and you will RUE the day….”

“Emma...” It tasted the name on its lips, heard the sultry purr of its voice repeating it. The Dark One liked having her name, for with it came power, and control, no one knowing better than the Darkness what magic a name could wrought.

“Kill me if you will...” The woman continued. “But know you will bring the wrath of my kingdom itself upon your head!”

“Kill you?” The darkness arched a brow she could not see. “I am not going to kill you, Emma of Mist Haven…” It leaned into her face, so close their lips could almost touch. “I’m going to KEEP you.”

“Wh...what?” Came the shaky breath, and inside the Dark felt Killian Jones lifting his head. His voice was an echo of the princess, but even more shocked, for the man had witnessed the Darkness kill tribute after tribute for longer than he cared to remember.

“You’re mine now...and I keep what is MINE.”

“N...No. I’m not yours!” protested the woman. “I will NEVER be yours!”

With those words, the fiery gleam of defiance blazed in her eyes, the woman glaring and fighting, the light that came from within her, growing stronger. The darkness couldn’t stop staring, memorized by that beautiful brilliance, a fight within the woman that was all her own, Emma of Mist Haven kicking, even biting at the lips so close to hers.

“Oh ho ho….” The Darkness breathed out a chuckle. “She is PERFECT. For you and for ME!”

A scream was its answer, frightened, but under laying the fear, was that strength of anger and pride, the woman fighting more, flailing out with her arms as though searching for a weapon, even as it caused her pain, the wounds inflicted earlier bleeding even more.

The light inside her seemed to flicker angrily, as though it was reacting to the woman’s distress. Supporting it, supporting HER, the light trying to bolster this princess with all the strength it could lend. The dark narrowed its eyes at that, watching and thinking, and coming away with the realization that the light was no longer a real match in power when compared to the dark and its host. They were strong in physicality and brute force, while the light and its host, seemed to focus all its strength from the spirit.

Defiant though they were, they sputtered and sparked more like a kitten than a cat. All bluster and bravado, there was not a thing the light could do, now that it had finally be found. And that suited the dark just fine, the woman pulled into the shadows, those inky wisps of tendrils covering them both.

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To Be Continued…

Hmm...not sure whose point of view will be next chapter. Maybe it will be a double one...Not sure if this is a good spot to end a chapter on, but it felt like otherwise it would turn into the chapter that NEVER ends.

Had some dark and light origin in here, but this is only touching the tip of the iceberg so to speak. Haven’t really gotten to it being a DARK fic yet though….but hopefully its building to there…

Wrote this one on only four hours sleep too...X_X

---Michelle

#once upon a time #ouat #fanfic #fanfiction #alternate universe #cs ff #Captain Swan #emma swan #killian jones #captain hook #the darkness #enchanted forest au

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