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honey-minded-hivemind · 1 month

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🌙Silent Night🦋 AU... Part One:

(Warning: This AU depicts abuse, self-harm, self-mutilation, unhealthy mindsets, guilty platonic yanderes, and platonic yanderes. If this upsets you or is not your cup of tea, do not read. Viewer discretion is advised...)

• They aren't sure when it started. When the others started to dislike them, to get angry with them, to see them as less than them. Maybe it was from the start, when they had optimism and were bright-eyed and were full of love and empathy. Maybe it was when their views didn't align with the others anymore, when they couldn't agree with them no matter what they said was right or just. Maybe it was just their natural way of acting, and they finally snapped and took it out on them. Whatever the case was, they were soon at odds and ends with them, dealing with the contempt and anger of the ones who they thought they could trust.

• Reader knew their beliefs were... looked down on. They knew that the first time they said they didn't hate humans, that they wanted to make peace with them, that something had changed. And it wasn't for the better. Where once they were allowed to join the other kids, now they were ostracized, cast aside. Where the adults used to include them or care about them, they now were mad, snappish, annoyed whenever Reader spoke up or said anything. Not to mention how no one seemed to like them anymore, seemed to try and talk with them, tried to help them or offer aid or smooth over any fears or doubts.

• But it still only grew worse.

• The problem came when they had helped a human out. Reader hadn't even done much, besides put a band-aid on their leg and hidden them, only leading them back out and bringing them somehwhere safer for them than the woods. Except this secret wasn't so secret, and the next thing Reader knew-

• They were locked up, tossed into a cell and chained, left to rot save for when one of the adults came by to... "re-educate"... them.

• Their life hadn't been long, but Reader soon discovered there were worse fates than death. Being hurt, be it by claws or forced fighting or being held down and bruised, was awful. It hurt even more knowing that it was done by people who once claimed to care about them, to want to help them... But whatever this was that they were doing, it wasn't helping. Was it? The bleeding cuts, the bruised limbs, the sore wings from trying to stay aloft, to get away- Their scratched-up hands, the bloodied nails, the blackened spots that bleed under their skin, turning into ugly shades of purple and black... The one thing that felt untouched was their wings, the only parts that didn't ache with slowly being healed by their body, that didn't become scarred up or marred by the hands that grabbed and clawed and hit and forced down...

• Reader didn't know why it wouldn't stop. Didn't know how much longer it would be until something gave. They should have known it would be their wings that would be the breaking point.

• That memory was faded a bit, their mind blocking out some of it, but what they remembered was another forced fight, running as far as they could before they were yanked back, hands grabbing, something creaking-

• SNAP!

• And soon they were wailing, collapsing into themself and trying to hide, to drag their broken wing over them, using their hands to muffle their sobs as they waited for their attacker/s to finish it... But they didn't. They only stopped, then left, leaving Reader on their own and curled up in the farthest corner of the room, doing their best to not move, grasping at the last threads of comfort they had...

• They'd been still for days. Any food or water left had been ignored, Reader not budging an inch to go near it or to do anything else. It didn't matter when someone eventually came in to check on them, or when hands grasped their wing, feeling at the broken bones and slowly bandaging it, setting up a sling. It didn't even matter when they said Reader could go back up with them, could leave for the first time from their personal h*ll... Yet Reader didn't enjoy this new freedom. It wasn't freedom really, was it? They now had to face the ones who wounded them, those who turned their backs on them, who had put them into their own special kind of h*lll, all because they weren't like them... All because they tried to do the right thing, to help someone, even if that person had been a human...

• Reader didn't keep count of how long it took them to gather the nerve to escape. They knew it had been at least two weeks, if not more... The night they chose was quiet, cold and chilled, soft snowfall dusting the sky and leaving a blanket of freezing white on the ground. No one should have been up. No one should have seen them. Reader had crossed past the farthest edges of the property, making it a few feet into the woods, before they heard someone shout far behind them- Then they fled, scrambling over rocks and slippery patches of ice, hurtling over fallen trees and past ice-covered trunks. Ice glinted under the small amount of moonlight, frosted and gleaming, each shard and icicle and flake as cold as death. Even then, it didn't deter them, not even when they reached a ledge, looking out over a frozen lake, a dark mirror reflecting the darkness and cold of the night, and the smallest glint of the moon...

• "Reader... Don't move." Yet even the quiet eventually was broken, by the same people who'd broken them.

• "Get back here... Now."

• Reader shifted slightly, feeling the way the wind pushed at their wings, soft as silk and cold as the snow underfoot. Their foot goes back, then the other. Fear fills them, burning hot and sticky as tar, melting through any resistance they have, setting ablaze their paranoia and terror, which consumes them.

• "Reader. Come back. NOW!"

• Their foot only slides back by a fraction, yet that's all it takes-

• CRACK!

• The ledge crumbles beneath them, sending them down like a comet crashing to earth, their wings splayed in a futile attempt to slow the fall, then liquid night surrounds them, studded with freezing white stars and sharp crystals, bubbles and frothy pink left in their wake...

• The world around them is silent, wrapped up in snow and bathed in milky light when they awake. The wind brushes against them, sending chills through their half-drowned body. Water gurgled up from their lungs, splattering warm liquid and murky silt onto the frosted, rocky dirt. It doesn't take much more to drag themself up, their wings laid crookedly around them like a fallen cloak, and soon they staggered off into the snow-brushed trees, leaving behind nothing more than frozen anguish and freezing memories...

• They make it far enough as they travel those first few weeks, enough so that they stumble into a worn, wet shed, hiding away from the blinding snowstorm that roars and wails around them. The shed doesn't hold any heat, yet they can't force themself to look for better shelter. What they do find are a sharp, large pair of shears, rusted and cold to the touch. And Reader is struck by a thought, which soon turns to a decision-

• If they ever want to live, to hide amongst people and try to survive... their wings can't stay. Their wing that had been broken was even worse than it was before, possibly unfit for flight ever again... And the other/s isn't /aren't much better, worn and bedraggled. Both are heavy weights on them, useless now... So really... why keep them? Their wings won't be able to help them in any way anymore, and if anyone sees them, they're as good as dead. So with those thoughts in mind... they lift the base of their first wing into the mouth of the shears, and with a swift push and wet crunch-

• Their wing falls to the floor, ebony and garnet gore spattering across the floors and walls, their loss soon followed by a sharp scream... And then the next wing is hefted up, and the small world is soon bathed in red...

• When the snowstorm ends, Reader slowly stumbles out, their shirt torn and new gashes in their back, one less burden weighing them down. It doesn't take them more than an hour to find a small cottage, dusty and worn down, yet still cozy and warm from the harsh winds and frozen slush outside. Dusting off the few couches and chairs, Reader soon settles in, dragging blankets and sheets onto one settled by the small fireplace, curling themself up into the dryness and warmth the soft, fuzzy cloths bring...

• And slowly, they settle into the world around them. They gather nuts and rabbits and mushrooms they find over the next few months, slowly building up stock on the edible fungi and nuts, adding soft pelts and fresh fish as well, and take their findings to the snow-locked town beyond the wintery forest. The people don't ask many questions, aren't very open, but they happily accept the fresh food with little grumbling, paying Reader for what they brought. And then they keep doing it, even hunting small deer and foxes and fish for those who weren't able to reach the stores or catch any themselves... So they slowly start to accept Reader. They don't turn them away or charge them extra for food anymore. They start paying them a little extra for the better pelts and larger meats... Reader even manages to make a small business, bringing food to those trapped by snow and ice, being able to sell or barter shells and stones they pick up from a lake nearby...

• Yet after about three years... Their nightmares come back for them.

• Reader doesn't know how they were found, nor how their demons were the ones to find them, yet somehow, someway, they did... People, the ones they hoped they would never see again, who they wished would go far away, to disappear, were at their cottage. The moment they see them, they try and take a step closer... But Reader swiftly turns heel and runs, heading straight into the freezing woods that surround them.

• They don't stop when they hear shouting, nor when the sound of flapping and footsteps echo behind them. Even as their heart picks up speed and their terror burns through their blood, they don't stop. As the snow whips through the woods, sending frozen flakes falling thickly through the branches, they don't slow down. Their feet are swift, their steps unhalted by wings or doubts. Yet their steps are frozen when they something lands on them, sending them both into the chilling snow all around them.

• Reader struggles, trying to push themself up yet being unable. Hands soon press down on them, pinning them to the frozen earth. "Get off!" Reader yells, bucking and biting at whoever has them in their grasp.

• "Kid, stop fightin' me!" shouts a familiar voice, and Reader feels a new sense of dread fill them, sending them into a panicked flurry. "Kid, please, stop strugglin' fer a minute! Yer gonna hurt yerself-"

• Reader kicks out, soon clawing themself out from under their captor... who is one of their old mentors, one of their past abusers... Another one alights into the slurry of sharp white and biting ice, peering at them with sharp eyes. Reader hisses, backing away carefully, not taking their eyes off of either one for a moment... Then they're whirling around in a snow-dusted blur, scrambling past-

• Only to be caught by strong hands, which pull them back into the scuffed clearing.

• "Cub, just calm down fer a minute-! Ya aren't in danger, yer not gonna be hurt, yer safe-" Reader only screeches, wriggling and scratching at the hands keeping them from their escape. "Shhh, i know, I know, this is all scary an' new an' isn't the best way ta go 'bout this, but ya aren't listening to us-" One of the hands touches their back, then freezes. Soon the person holding them goes still, then their hands are tugging at their shirt, trying to get it off.

• "Get off me! Get off!" Reader screams, fighting harder, only for their other past mentor to hold them still. Something cuts through their shirt, tearing the fabric- And then their back is bare, save for the few bandages that cover their upper chest, showing their scars to the world.

• Something touches at their back, tracing one of the scars... and then the grip on then tightens, panic filling the voices of their captors.

• "Sh*t-! Kid, cub, what is this? What happened? Why- why can't I see yer wings- cub, they-they aren't here, where are they-?"

• Reader feels tears filling their eyes, their stomach twisting at being partially naked and unable to break free. "... I don't have them. Now... get off..."

• "Cub, kid, kitten, what do ya mean? Don't- they- they aren't... they weren't..." He trails off, a soft noise rumbling up. Reader feels another soft, cool touch along their scars, followed by a low whine. "No... nonononono..." The arms and hands are soon wrapped around them, upset noises warbling out like a distressed animal. Reader takes that moment to snap, struggling harder. They're dropped, only to be picked back up and held in a firm embrace. "No, no cub, ya can't leave, yer hurt, yer missing yer-" A strangled noise escapes him, but he continues. "We can't leave ya like this, cub, we can't. Now please, please, stop fightin'... please..."

• Reader only fights harder, scratching and snapping and kicking at the hold on them. A wounded noise escapes one of their captors, then in a moment, something sharp sinks into their arm. Reader freezes up.

• "Shhh... don't worry, 'kay? We just need ya ta calm down... It was only a small sedative, cub, just enough to help ya relax a little... That's it, just take deep breaths..."

• Tears trail down Reader's face, a sob pushing past their lips as they struggle further, shoving and clawing as they try to break loose from the firm embrace. That only earns another wounded noise, leaving Reader weakly hissing. Their head starts to feel clouded, their fear being smoothed out to discomfort. Another hand is carding through their hair, leaving them softly whining. Their thoughts keep slipping through, melting from frozen ice to lake water to soft puddles... They hiss one more time, weakly snapping at whoever... whatever... mmmm... something, that holds them... Their face feels cold and wet... Hrrrmmmmph... They feel all soft and cold and chilly an... hhhhhh... They eyes slip shut, their mind muddling further. Everything feels weird... it's all fluffy and wet and cold... but their back is against something warm, and something warm is on their head, aaaaand their head is feeling weird and syrupy and all sweet... Hhhhhmmmm... Heh.... Sweet and syrupy and honey and molasses and bees and...

• With a last tired sigh, Reader slips into unconsciousness, soon relaxing into the hold on them... The two older ferals can't help but wrap their cub up with one of their coats, trying to keep the already-freezing kid warm. The two trudge back through the thick sheets of snow, tracking down the kids who came with them... They find them still as stones, staring at an old, broken-down shed. They come closer, trying to figure out what's scared them... Only to find the remains of bloodied, broken wings, surrounded by blackish stained wood, the heavy scent of iron still clinging to the rotten wood...

• They carefully collect them, carefully comforting the kids and keeping Reader cradled against one of them while the other handles their cub's wings... When they start to head back, they realize they have a lot of healing to do for their cub... This time theyll keep them safe. They'll keep them warm, they'll take care of them, they'll accept what their beliefs- But they aren't letting them go back. They can't leave them alone. They can't risk letting them hurt themself further. They won't hurt them, they won't yell, they'll be soft and gentle, they promise. Maybe they'll have to keep their cub a little tired, enough to not fight them or hurt themself... Yet if it means they'll be able to heal, to feel better... Then it's worth it. They won't fail them again...

#honeycomb thoughts #platonic yandere marvel #yandere platonic marvel #platonic yandere marvel x reader #platonic yandere xmen #yandere x-men #yandere platonic xmen #platonic yandere #platonic yandere x reader #platonic yandere xmen evolution #🌙silent night🦋 au #🪶creed!reader

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ridingtorohan · 2 months

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𓇻 ft. ezio auditore x civilian gn reader

𓇻 summary. There's just you, Ezio, and a slow, sleepy morning on a rooftop.

𓇻 content. platonic or pre-relationship. pre-Brotherhood.

𓇻 enjoy! feel free to like, reblog, or send in asks!

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Soft strands of sunlight crests over the city walls, dusting over the roof slates in a golden sheen. It’s beautiful and tranquil, the starlight fading overhead into hues of gentle light. Early dawn has you feeling cold, a little uncomfortable under the brisk air. Monteriggioni feels quiet beneath the sway of your feet, the small city silent with sleep. Ezio barely breathes - and when he does, it’s relaxed, the motion slow. He’s, somehow, not quite what you imagined and yet everything all at once. Quiet. For all the charismatic clamor you see him with, he watches over the city with a sense of calm that Claudia has never spoken of.

Aristocratic nose, fine cheekbones and firm jawline, Ezio was without a doubt a cut of the finest cloth. Boisterous. Loud. Everything you’ve heard spoken about him - and even seen him act. This is a tender side you didn’t know existed, hidden beneath swaths of fine armour and silky fabric. Looking at him as you do now, his presence almost muted beside you on the rooftop, he seems more man than myth. Gentler, almost, even with the garment of metal strapped to his wrists.

Despite all the armour he typically wears, the imposing and broad figure he cuts, he’s everything but. You’ve seen him out and about, moving along the rooftops and city walls, scrounging for feathers - you still didn’t quite understand that— and tending to mundane jobs. He’s even swept out an arm to guide children back to their feet after a tumble to the street. Which happens a fair bit, even to a young child from your extended family.

Thing is, while it happens a fair amount - Ezio is there to stop it. Always visiting, moving between houses and tending to the people with a spirit and jubilance that you haven’t even seen the Lord cherish the town with. He loves it like his own, a home far from his birthright.

You don’t know much about Ezio’s past, only gleaned some of it from gossip and from Claudia. Even that isn’t enough. Enough would be to hear it from his own lips, to have the man himself explain. But, the strange thing is, despite all the good tidings he gives to the town, when he’s alone with you like this, he grows somber. A million miles away, lost in a world you can’t comprehend.

Other days it’s good. He tends to you like every other townsperson in Monteriggioni, making sure you have everything you need. You’re not even sure how spending time with Ezio like this even happened - what you did to make him choose you. There are many ladies who express an interest in him, many soldiers who want privy into his skills. But he chooses you, takes you for strolls and stops first thing at your market stall when new produce is brought in.

Today is not one of those days.

“I am sorry,” he says then, voice hard in the growing daylight. Not because he’s harsh - never is— but because that’s just how his words sound. “My mind is … quite occupied today.”

“It’s okay,” you breathe out, because it is. It’s okay. You don’t question where his mind goes.

There’s a long moment of silence before Ezio quietly elaborates, “It is close to my Christening day.”

“Oh-” You pause and consider his tone. “I’m sorry.”

His expression twitches then, mirth dancing in his eyes, dark eyebrows knitting together. A small smile plays across his handsome face, fingers spreading across his thigh. “Thank you.” He laughs, an unused sound that rests deep in his throat. “Ah, I’m sure you’ve already heard of Claudia arranging a party, no?” Your pinched expression gives you away and his laugh deepens, eyes turning away.

“She wanted it to be a secret-” You stop yourself there by instinct. But Ezio doesn’t interrupt, he never has. He’s attentive that way, always listening to what you have to say, even if it’s about the soil or the worms in your garden. “You weren’t supposed to know about it.” “She always tries to make it a surprise,” Ezio responds, eyes tender as he looks at you.

“And yet you know of it anyway.” There’s a twitch of his scarred mouth when you speak.

“Mm.” He gives a slow nod of his head, leaning back, brown hair moving from his shoulder to spill over his back instead. Ezio closes his eyes, the hazy sunlight moving across his face as it climbs into the sky. “Has anyone invited you?”

“The whole town is going.”

“Yes, I imagine.” Ezio laughs slightly then. “I’m inviting you as my guest.” It feels like it should be a profound statement - something awe inspiring or an utterance to make you gasp. It doesn’t. Instead, all you feel is a low seeping warmth that touches the tip of your toes. You look down, swaying you feet over the edge of the roof. Ezio isn’t saying it to be polite - there’s something about the way he speaks and acts with you that makes you feel like he’s genuine.

“Thank you,” you say after a moment. “That’d be great.”

Ezio says nothing to that, though you can feel his eyes turn from you back towards the city at your feet. An emotional eclipse washes over you and you’re left feeling cold. Every moment with Ezio is like this - inviting, like summer days and fireflies. Like he sees who you are and accepts it.

There’s nothing for a long moment, just you and Ezio and the slow march of time. Dew glistens on the lower tiles, the rough texture cold beneath your palms. “Thank you for going,” he says - and the way he says it makes it feel more profound than it originally sounds. Like it matters to him, like your presence is something he basks in.

You look at him, at his battle worn features, weary lines smoothing into something almost peaceful. He needs moments like this, you realize. Needs it like you do - the companionship, the ease from everyday life. The slow, quiet mornings, the yawning pull of life. An insurmountable, insignificant second of life - every second that amounts to something more. Because he exists, you exist, and this moment exists.

“I wouldn’t be anywhere else,” you promise, meaning every word of it. You enjoy these mornings with him just as much as he does.

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