#apologies if this seems to have come from nowhere but some experiences in my formative years | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shellforbrains · 3 months

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okay, strap in, here we go.

i think i & a lot of other people went into Apology Tour expecting Stolas to be at different point in his character development then he actually is. but that development is definitely still coming!

a deep dive into where Stolas currently is at character wise with insights from my own personal life experience.

in this deep dive into where he currently is, i want to use what i personally have experienced & witnessed in my own life as a guide. bc if i'm being honest, after i had time to mull it over, looking at Stolas in this episode was both like looking in a mirror & also like looking at some of my own family members who i have tried to correct on their own microaggresions in the past.

now i want to preface this by saying that i am white. i will not be speaking on this from the perspective of a POC. i am speaking on this from the perspective of someone who has had to go on a similar (but obvs not as extreme) journey that Stolas is on, and as someone who has seen people i love vehemently deny their problematic actions when i have tried to tell them how harmful they are & how hard it is to actually argue with them about it.

and i'd also like to add that i am not trying to shit on Stolas with this & say that Blitzø did nothing wrong in their arrangement ever or in Apology Tour. Blitzø is also on a character arc of his own & growing as a character.

both he AND Stolas continued to suck at communicating this episode, & it wasn't anyone's sole fault there. i'm focusing less on their conflict (though of course i will make reference to it) & more focusing on where Stolas currently is in his journey & how him acting the way he does in AT is... not far off from reality, honestly.

even if it's painful to watch at times, i do have to commend the writing there haha. bc it's pretty fuckin' spot on.

okay with all that out of the way, let's get our hands dirty:

the description of the episode itself confirms that Stolas is "still not quite being self-aware enough at times" & boy did they hit the nail on the head here lmao.

i think most people will agree that Stolas still has a LOT to learn about the race/class difference & the power imbalance between he & Blitzø, but even still, some were expecting better out of him in AT than what we got. myself included.

but let's look at FM from his perspective:

he's off his meds & obviously went into that night with a very black & white view of the possible outcomes: either Blitzø returns his feelings & they'll be dating by the end of the night, or he's been keeping Blitzø against his will & is a monster. no room for shades of grey.

and when Blitzø (understandably for multiple reasons) mistakes this basically out of nowhere declaration of feelings as a form of rp, Stolas (very understandably) gets his feelings hurt. he shuts down & stonewalls.

he doesn't see any shades of grey when Blitzø chases after him, says he needs a minute to think, makes reference to his feelings being played with, or the fact that, while aggressive, Blitzø was trying to talk things out with him. Stolas only hears the yelling and (again, understandably) gets triggered.

ALONG WITH, it seems, only hearing the "everything you've put me through, you rich, privileged asshole" comment & the "treat me like one of your butler imps" comment. which, if i'm being honest, i think ALSO really hurt his feelings, based on how he ends up acting the next day in AT.

here's where my personal experience comes in, so let's tldr my story real fast:

i was raised in a fairly privileged position & was basically brainwashed into far right ideology from a young age at the private school i attended. trust me, i went on a WILDASS journey to unlearn some of the craziest & most vile shit that had been hammered into my head since i was a little tiny child. it's a tough journey, too, that's filled with a lot of ups & downs.

part of what makes Stolas such a special character to me is seeing that journey reflected on screen with the good, the bad, & the ugly. which is also why i get very frustrated with fans that want to ignore the bad & the ugly parts of Stolas' character & journey.

bc, yes, while he is a fictional character, it is always important to hold oneself accountable. even though i am a completely changed person from who i was all those years ago, i know that even at 33 there are probably things i still need to unlearn that i just haven't stumbled upon to challenge me yet.

the journey that Stolas is on is not a single switch flip or a short, easy one. nor should it be treated as one. however, i think it's important to dive into these things and see where it's coming from, even if it shines light on the bad & the ugly in a way that some people may not like.

now with my personal experience in mind, & how Full Moon went from Stolas' perspective, let's finally address that painful exchange that happens the morning after Full Moon.

emotions are still high, neither of them has had time to really process, Stolas is still very deep in his own feefees, and those feefees are HURT.

Blitzø, in his mind, has rejected a relationship with him. as well as accused him of being a racist/classist, something that Stolas does NOT see himself as. and, like ANY privileged person mostly oblivious to their own behavior, he gets his feefees hurt over this as well as getting very defensive about it.

while the bar is quite literally in hell, Stolas DOES treat imps... better than other Goetia. that doesn't mean he treats them WELL, bc he DOESN'T, but to Stolas himself, he sees other goetia carry imps around in purses like animals or throw them around like objects like Stella did. in his mind, he's treating imps very well! so he must think, "so why would Blitzø or that Stiker guy even say anything like that?! that's ridiculous & hurtful!"

enter stage left Blitzø, who starts off with his typical sexy talk which then turns into needling/arguing. (once again, oof. they both continue to suck at communicating this ep so hard.)

and when this exchange happens, it is... it is so quintessential oblivious privileged person getting defensive.

"i'm not racist/classist! when have i EVER done something like that? you talk just like those people that hate all white/rich people!"

i have literally heard basically those exact words, and ones similar to what Stolas says later, from family that i have tried to point out microaggresions to before.

microaggresions are called microaggresions for a reason & are obviously not considered the same as the more outwardly hateful shit for a reason. they are harder for people to realize that they are doing/participating in and therefore very easy to get their feefees hurt over & defensive about.

bc the ppl committing microaggresions hear the big, ""scary"" words like "racism" or "classism" & think of the most extreme examples, not the ""mundane"" shit that THEY do. so if someone says they're being racist/classist, they think they're being accused of the extreme shit & think people are being absolutely ridiculous.

bc OBVIOUSLY Stolas isn't carrying an imp around in a purse or yeeting them like Stella does so what's the big deal, right? /s

moving forward in their exchange, we come to these lines. and here's where, if i haven't ruffled feathers already, i'm probably going to ruffle them now.

by saying this, Stolas DOES make a point but also... DOESN'T at the same time, ending up only reinforcing his own ignorance & lack of self-awareness. but before anyone starts furiously typing to me, let me explain.

Blitzø DOES need to hear this to begin to understand how Stolas has been making attempts & does care in his own way, just like how Blitzø also needed to hear what Fizz said in Oops for the same reason.

HOWEVER, just like how Fizz said what he said in Oops without full context of the arrangement that Blitzø & Stolas had, Stolas says what he says here without the full context of his actions & how they actually read to Blitzø, especially in the context of the deal they had.

he is genuine about his attempt to make Blitzø understand he cares, but just like before, this is ALSO quintessential privileged person being defensive.

"if i were racist/classist why would i want to date a POC/a poor person? if i were racist/classist why would i want to be seen with a POC/a poor person? if i were racist/classist why would i want to spend time with a POC/a poor person or support them?"

yes, Stolas cares about Blitzø. but this is called being seen as an Exception or One Of The Good Ones. Stolas doesn't look down on Blitzø as much as he does other imps, but that doesn't make Blitzø feel any better. and even still, while Blitzø is the Exception, it still doesn't mean that he isn't still looked down on or been the victim of microaggresions from Stolas.

and honestly, some of the talk i've seen these past few days around the fandom regarding this has been... very fucking exhausting.

yes, i more than anyone understand that Stolas is not self-aware enough to fully realize his own behaviors yet. but everyone seems to be putting this entirely on Blitzø's shoulders to fix & educate Stolas on this despite the fact that Blitzø is also hurting & neck deep in his emotions as well.

Stolas gets a pass for being ignorant & uneducated & neck deep in his feelings but Blitzø is apparently supposed to be able to articulate perfectly to Stolas every microaggresion he's suffered & be able to sit him down & give him a lecture on Hell's Racism & Classism.

just like how it is not the job of POC to educate white people, or any other underprivileged group to educate a privileged one, it is NOT entirely on Blitzø's shoulders to educate Stolas.

Stolas is approx. 36 years old & has a smartphone. Google (or i guess it's gaggle in hell) exists & Stolas shows later on in AT that he DOES indeed have tiny blips of self-awareness, little nagging feelings that he's missing something.

yes, it would definitely HELP to have Blitzø explain his own perspective to Stolas, as i'm sure Stolas would be willing to listen if Blitzø can find a way to properly elaborate. and i do think Blitzø WILL at some point in the future do that!

BUT. confronting or educating loved ones is SO much harder than anyone else. i think part of the reason WHY Blitzø has a hard time saying specifics to Stolas (besides his own self-hatred & communication issues) is BECAUSE he cares about him so much.

it was not easy at ALL for me to try to confront loved ones in my life about their behavior, & being met with the defensive reactions only made it more painful on top of that. it is not uncommon at all for ppl to let a privileged loved one get away with things that they would NEVER let someone else get away with.

this leads into where i basically want to say... if you're having any worry or doubts about Stolas' character arc right now, don't worry. we've gotten some pretty clear signs from AT that there's still plenty to be addressed on Stolas' side & that it WILL be coming.

he simply is just not as far along in the journey as some of us thought he was, & that's okay. he'll get there, even if it is painful right now.

personally, my biggest theory on HOW he'll get there is the whole "Stolas is stripped of his title & everything he owns" theory that's been circulating around the fandom. something that drastic happening to him, leaving him with nothing, & forcing him to see what Hell is actually like for the lower class outside of his gilded cage would be one hell of a wake up call for him.

but even if that theory isn't correct, i still believe that it will not just be solely Blitzø or others around him showing Stolas the error of his ways.

i am of the opinion that something drastic will happen that will also help shift his view much more into focus & make him even more receptive to what he's being told about the racism & classism of Hell.

bc oftentimes, it DOES take something drastic in a journey like this one to actually light a fire under one's ass. what that will be for Stolas...? well, i guess we'll just have to wait & see!

#helluva boss #stolitz #apology tour #apology tour helluva boss #helluva boss apology tour #stolas helluva boss #stolas goetia #helluva boss stolas #stolas #my shit #ramblings

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pap03 · 1 year

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Okay so I originally wrote this on Discord so apologies for any jank

But I need to get out my mega LOVE theory for Deltarune somehow, and Discord is the only place I've wrote it down lol

Anyways what got me going was this here difference in stats

Both being a post-Snowgrave Kris, just one from the Light World and the other from the Dark World

And this discrepancy would be strange right? If both LV's stood for the same thing

Which I'd why I claim that they do not

Rather that the LV in the Light World still refers to the LOVE of UT

While the LV in the Dark Worlds stands more properly for a "Level" a way of gauging the amount of Experience the Fun Gang have

Doubly true as the Dark World stats measure nowhere "EXP" aka "Execution Points"

From what I can tell Level only goes up upon reaching certain HP values, as Noelle goes from Level 1 to Level 2 in the Dark World

Since Noelle "Levels up" upon finishing just one act of violence in the Dark World

So I think it'll be possible later on to Level up early if you're violent enough

Sorta opposite of how it worked in UT, where you needed to LOVE up to get HP

In Dark Worlds you need to get your HP up to Level up

But that’s a bit of a tangent; continuing on

With the ground rules laid out that LV and LV can exist synchronously the next thought in my ramblings was that I need some proof that Noelle will continue to be our main Puppet, to explain why this LV theory should be relevant

And on that front, I got several bits

Easiest for me to lay out here is that the Survey taker at the beginning of ch 1 has special dialogue if you name yourself after a majority of the party members

This includes: Kris, Susie, and Noelle

All 4 share the same reaction

Secondarily Noelle lays out herself in the hospital that she's gonna figure out what's going on with Kris, which means to me that she'll keep coming around Kris, even despite the coercion into murder

And lastly, Noelle’s crush on Susie has so much unmissable screentime that Chekov would shit his grave if there were no resolution to it

This established leaves the first 2 core tenents of my theory

1. LOVE exists

2. Noelle will be the sole Snowgraver as the game progresses

For the sake of it, let's tackle the ramifications of both of these in order, as 1 heavily leans into 2

1. LOVE as we know it in Undertale exists in some way form or fashion in Deltarune

Natural questions that raises

- Do Darkners count for EXP? Yes, I'd say so, given the inverse effect on how Levels contribute to HP compared to how Undertale's LOVE and HP work, and the fact Noelle gains HP faster than the rest of the Party when they commit violence I'd argue there's a secondary element increasing her vitality, that being her LOVE increasing

- If LOVE exists why isn't Noelle a complete psycho killer in the Light World? Because that's not how LOVE works, by sans's admission LV contributes to making it easier to hurt others, and easier to distance yourself, but never expresses that it creates a want to kill, although that does seem to be a side effect which I'll get into next section

Mechanics of LOVE across Undertale and Deltarune:

For most people who've played a neutral run of Undertale, you'll be remiss to note anything going on as you gain LV. As much as I love Frisk as the blank slate of a protagonist that they are, their lack of emotions makes it hard to tell what exact the differences are between an LV 3 individual and an LV 7 one, differences sans can tell, but we can't really

So then we have to look elsewhere, mainly the Genocide run and comparing characters who may have killed in UT to their murderless counterparts in Deltarune

- Early LV's 1-6

At this point a person has killed a bit, but is also where the effects of each individual LV is the most noticeable, as sans has unique dialog for every LV here

What this tells me is that your first kills change you the most compared to later kills

Also during this LV range we see Frisk start their way through Snowdin in a Geno run, where they skip puzzles without our input, and are generally quieter than even before

I call this part of the LV grind "Getting Colder" for many reasons, partially for the pun, but also how we see Frisk act much more distant, aka cold, towards their surroundings and walk through situations, giving of an energy of "I don't care, let me through"

Considering this is also the LV's you'd end the game at for killing just Toriel or Undyne (two impassable bosses without killing or their special sparing method) that general sentiment persists

For the sake of it, I also reference Gerson and Asgore, Gerson was in the War of Humans and Monsters and has intimate knowledge about human combat and abilities, and while it's canon that no human casualties were suffered through the whole War, I would not be surprised if Gerson had to put down a fellow monster or two during the chaos after the Barrier was first erected. Yet despite that idea, Gerson is still just a bubbly, slightly traumatized, old man in Waterfall telling me that you can work past Early LVs. Yet there's also Asgore, as of the time of me writing this the only character who has canonically (and confirmed to) taken the life of anything, and as of our time encountering him, he's distantly removed from the act he's doing, which is another murder. However I must mention that there's a lot of shit there for Asgore compared to Deltarune's Asgore that could lead to the state he's in beyond LOVE so take that with a grain of salt

- Middle LV's 7-14

This is where an interesting switch occurs, specifically at LV 9 but the larger grouping together sorta encompasses it all. This is where Frisk (yes Frisk I'll elaborate if I have to) begins to enjoy the act of killing, smiling before every encounter, and even reveling in the fear of others, such as when Frisk intimidates Monster Kid just before the Undying fight

Now above I talk about how wanting to kill isn't a symptom of LV, and I still believe that

While this seems to be contradicting evidence to that claim I don't think so, as I think it's around this point that one becomes so distant that the act of killing someone else doesn't invoke any feeling of remorse anymore

Where Frisk's enjoyment is derived from is their "Determination" as at the point they're smiling they've killed every monster they could find up to this point, so they're happy to "finish what they started" and also why the Smile goes away if you abort Geno at this point forward as that goal of eradication is gone

- High LV's 15-19

This is the grouping we know the least about, as the majority of these are Geno exclusive, CORE/Hotland exclusives no less which at this point the whole Underground is on lockdown so any unique traits from here are lost in translation, from best we can tell, anything shy of all kills isn't labeled as "True Evil" by MTT and LV 17 is labeled as "Bad at being evil" by sans

So perhaps there's some room for redemption at this point? Idk, sans doesn't think so at LV 19, but it's an interesting thought

- LV 20

This one gets a special mention just because of how everything goes down

The Mercy Button is gone

Frisk is able to make inputs without Player input

And at this LV it's possible to summon the Demon, a manifestation of the evils you caused and power you gained by pushing this world to its limits that quite literally has the power to attack the game box Undertale is played in

This demon is the single most powerful being we've encountered inside of UT/DR outside of maybe Asriel

Now, with everything LOVE-related established we can also use it as a symptom list to diagnose Noelle at where she's at and take a rough estimate as to how much LOVE a single Snowgrave run would allow for

And well, I won't run yall through the numbers so to speak but she's solidly in the Early LV's

She still has remorse for the deaths she did cause

But she's also able to distance herself from her actions there, could be grief but her interactions with her father on Snowgrave compared to a Main Route shows to me that she's a little more reserved, which also falls in line with Early LV symptoms

So what does that leave?

Well, as someone pointed out to me before, Noelle has some violent tendencies

They're reserved, but come out when say, Berdly also has a crush on Susie, or if it's encouraged (see what this whole post is about lol)

See also the theory that the damage at the beginning of the Cyber World was caused by Noelle, not Queen, and there's reason to see where things may go as Noelle breaches into the Middle LV's

I see her, like Frisk, enjoying the slaughter as things continue on

So to conclude my little LOVE Theory I see the rest of Deltarune going as such

1 more route of us manipulating Noelle into killing, she'll be far more resistive, but I know we'll break through, with the boss of that area that she kills (secret boss or another Lightner) the last we'll see of Noelle she'll have cracked a smile

Then from there on she'll easy, fights will break out just from her instigation, or from others more heroic trying to get in her way

By the end I think we'll have to fight her, and she'll kick our asses

Or we'll have to fight Kris

It's hard to know that far ahead

But using LOVE alone, that's how I see things going

Thanks for reading if you did! Feel free to comment and discuss or ask me questions through my ask box. Hope you enjoyed my transcribed madness lol

#deltarune #noelle holiday #noelle #noelle deltarune #kris dreemurr #kris #deltarune chapter 2 #kris deltarune #deltarune noelle #deltarune snowgrave #snowgrave route #snowgrave #undertale #undertale theory #deltarune theory #frisk ut #frisk undertale #long post

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notapplicableinformation · 9 months

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The Villains' lore doesn't entirely fit?

Does anyone else think that the Villains in Super Paper Mario are great, but that their lore doesn't exactly.....Fit in the game too well?

Let me explain-

Count Bleck, even though there is foreshadowing and clear build up to his relationship with Timpani, I thought it was a bit odd that none of the dimensions that were visited wasn't, like, the remains of the dark tribe from when Blumiere had opened up the Dark Prognositcus. Or that there wasn't any location in the game visited that had Tippi recollect a memory of familiarity-

The other minions' lore doesn't really fit with any of the locations visited in the game either in my opinion- O'Chunks lore being an army general who was betrayed is very interesting for his character, but I wouldn't know if he were from any of the dimensions that we visit in the game as there isn't any link to any form of 'war', as an example, in any of the present locations in the game. He probably comes from a different dimension outside of the places we visit in the game, but that arises questions as to why Flipside has doors to only a few dimensions and what counts as a dimension and what counts as a world in the first place. This also makes me ask why the villains can't have come from the dimensions visited in this game to make the game feel that smaller bit more complete?

Mimi's story is also a bit odd, with that failed pixel experiment possibility or creation of a witch possibility. Neither of those are even alluded to in any place of the narrative, so... There's only Carson to go off. It would have been interesting to come across a potential place of a 'witch' so that what Carson is saying could have more merit, but it doesn't matter too much.

Dimentio makes sense to be entirely ambiguous, it's in character for him, but then you have all of the Pixl Uprising lore and the lore of the magician. It's....It's all great lore but it's so peculiar that there is NOTHING about this lore alluded to in ANY other place of the game other than Carson's bar- (To be fair though, if one went by the "Dimentio is Merloo" theory, or even if you went for the theory that he's one of the descendants, there's actually a bit of evidence for this outside of Carson's bar in the Gate between Flipside and Flopside where you can read that Merloo was a magician who could control dimensions, but I digress.)

Nastasia's lore is also strange. The 'Of bats and men' story- It's...Extremely random. It links well to when Nastasia says she'll stay by Bleck's side as he saved her, but the whole being a bat and becoming human is....strange, as it really feels like it came from nowhere.

To conclude, I love Super Paper Mario very much, though I feel that the villains stories aren't....Very well engraved into the plot, the stories seem like they were added in separately, very good stories, yes, but...Not really connected to any of the established locations. Carson is the main source of evidence to go by-

I may be missing something, but I thought it was a bit odd that the stories of the Villains weren't at least a little bit linked to any of the worlds visited- Maybe there are some links and I don't remember any, but this was just a meagre observation I had made.

Anyway, have a nice day! Apologies for the long discussion. I'd love to hear any thoughts on the subject matter.

#super paper mario #spm

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innerstrugglesworld · 2 years

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An obey me prompt if u want to do hc for it– MC is a single parent and had to bring the child with them. The child has great magical potential but no control over it, AND MC and the child were keeping it secret in the human world, so nobody in the exchange program was expecting it. Headcanons of how the characters would react? If you only want to do a few, can I ask for Lucifer and Solomon specifically? Ty

Reaction to an MC's child who has great magical potential

Lucifer and Solomon Version

MC and their child use pronounce "they/them". I didn't specify the physical form or gender. Hope you like it!

Devildom was suddenly hit by a severe earthquake. Houses collapsed, the ground cracked, and several large holes appeared in the middle of the city. From afar, you can hear people panicking. Some of them were even crying in fear. Earthquakes and storms are common in the human world, but Devildom is not a place that experiences them. This was the first time in centuries that they had felt an earthquake.

When they wonder about the causes of earthquakes and natural disasters in devildom, you just remain silent and don't open your mouth. You know, your child caused it.

You kept it a secret until one day, one of them overheard your conversation.

Lucifer

"Is that true, MC?" You were surprised to find Lucifer standing behind you. He looks at you an observe your child, but you can see how disappointed Lucifer is. "Lucifer, listen to me-"

"Why didn't you tell me earlier?"

"I apologize. But I couldn't let others know, what if my son gets into trouble?" Lucifer stroked the hair of your frightened child. You were worried that Lucifer would hurt your child, but those man smiled and said "Let's solve this together. There is a ring that can control your child's power, it's a bit difficult to get, but let's solve it together. Next time, talk to me, you don't have to bear your burden alone,"

Solomon

You hug your child to protect them from the rubble. When you manage to get out, you quickly check on your child's condition and make sure that they're okay. Luckily, there are no cuts or bruises, it's just that today's incident makes you afraid that they're traumatized.

"I didn't expect the power to be this terrifying." Out of nowhere, Solomon suddenly came and observed your chil. "How come-"

"I've been watching you two since you first came to Devildom." Solomon said while holding your child's hand. He seemed to be searching for hidden power through your child's palm. The silence turned into panic. "We must find the ring immediately! In Devildom, there is a ring that can control your child's power. But for the time being, I will cast a spell to temporarily stop their power. After this, we must go to the demon lord castle, Diavolo has the ring." Your eyes widened at Solomon's words. You gripped the man's shoulder tightly and shook your head in disagreement. "I can't. My child could get hurt if Diavolo finds out about this."

Solomon's eyes softened as he rubbed your trembling hands. "I promise, everything will be fine. You two mean so much to me, I'll do whatever it takes to keep you safe. So, don't worry."

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keeperofthesunandmoon · 1 year

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Hey, anon who was asking about sending feedback here. Doing it not anon this time just to make any replies needed easier. Apologies in advance for the wall of text, I've tried to condense it, but I'm not the best at being concise. Also sorry if any of this has been brought up before.

First a couple technical issues I encountered. In chapter 7 I got the part about my mom taking care of me while sick, even though my parents were killed last chapter, then inversely when I went through again and saved them the dialogue option "“All my goodness died when he took my parents.” was available to choose.

Anyway onto the juicy stuff. So for the most part, I really liked the game so far, I thought it is a really good continuation of the story, and I'm definitely excited for more. But I obviously do have some notes, so here they are.

1) Being able to detect heartbeats isn't actually an accurate way of detecting bluffs (or lies in general). Heartrate raises if a person is excited or scared, and a good liar would be calm while lying. Plus with poker specifically, knowing your opponent is bluffing is only part of the equation, you still have to have a good hand, or be able to bluff yourself.

2) I feel like there should be the option to be opposed to control magic due to trauma rather than just general moral opposition, depending on the choices made. Like, at the very least, any MC unfortunate enough to have Julian Anderson as their birth father, probably has more reason to be averse to control magic than just "mind control bad cause it takes away free will".

On the same note, there are multiple instances where without player input, your character either uses control magic, considers using it, or sits there while someone else casually uses it. Which like, even trauma aside, if I’ve been picking all the “I think control magic is morally evil” options it seems weird my character would just casually use it to make someone forget a conversation, or be fine with their friends using it to get past airport security.

It also kinda sucks, for the above reasons, that in regards to the screening, your only options are let someone use control magic on you (whether or not you resist) or compel them first. Like I said, I feel like my MC would be very traumatized by the whole concept of control magic, and would very much not be on board with either of these options.

3) The jar of holy oil felt a bit like it came out of nowhere. Like I previously got the impression that holy oil was pretty hard to get your hands on, even for someone with the MCs connections, but then you just like have a jar of it in your bag I guess, no real explanation as to how it got there. Also IDK if this was intentional misdirection or not, so sorry in advance if it is, but because it’s first mentioned as an “unbreakable jam jar” directly after talking about the homemade snow globes (which are often made from jars), I thought the jam jar was the snow globe, up until you actually use it.

4)This one’s kind of a legacy issue from the previous games, so IDK how fixable it is at this point, but basically the game feels like it's in an odd situation when it comes to the MC, that I can best describe as being nonbinary inclusive, but trans exclusive. The game lets you choose the name/pronouns you want, but then the flashbacks just assume your character was still using the same ones back when they were a toddler (obviously there are people irl who do come out at a pretty young age, but, at least in my experience, that's the exception rather than the rule). Like obviously something to account for that could be added, but IDK if you can like update already published games, and if not adding it to the third game would probably introduce some weirdness, so IDK.

5) I’m confused as to what a “stereotypical drakaina” would be cause like a drakaina isn’t really like a thing in pop culture the same way something like angels and demons are, and the word itself is literally just the feminine form of the Ancient Greek word for dragon or serpent. Would it just be dressing up as a dragon? I realize this one's pretty nitpicky, I’m just confused.

6) In the dream sequence in chapter 8, the game seems to just like assume the MC and RO are able to have a biological kid together. I know that both it’s a dream sequence and also a setting with magic, so it’s not really a plot hole or anything per say, but I think taking that into mind, and maybe adding some text for situations where that might be in question, to explain that would be a good idea.

7) "…for the fact that the worst crime they’ve ever committed is jaywalking." I’m fairly certain forging a birth certificate is also a crime. /s

Thank you for the feedback! I've made some edits to earlier chapters based on it for next update

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carlatsukinamistolemyhamsandwich · 2 years

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I know you normally don't really ask this but how much did you pay for the Merch you got? I mean the birthday (I think it's birthday?) merch costs alone around 70€ plus all the fees. Must have been Hella expensive. (idk how it is for you but I paid triple the price with an unexpected amount custom cost of 25€ for one CD)

Ok, I was sort of debating whether to answer this because on some of my merch posts in the past, I've had a couple of people make comments about my financial situation which honestly kind of upset me bit.

However I'm going to assume this is being asked in good faith so I will answer honestly under the cut.

So please bare in mind, I did not pay for all of the items I ordered at once, I ordered the rings back in November last year, I ordered Shin's birthday set in February and then I ordered the other stands about a month ago and only paid for shipping and customs fees this week (curse you customs fees).

The total price of the items came to around 22000 JPY (£137 or €161), with the majority of that being Shin's birthday set (8800 JPY (£55)) and the two rings ( 7700 JPY (£48))

Honestly the shipping and customs fees ended up being a lot more expensive than I'd hoped/thought they'd be (along with the proxy fees they came to around £140, i.e. they effectively doubled the price of the items) but by the time you've bought the items you're a bit stuck (I will be eating pasta and eggs for the foreseeable future) .

Now, for anyone reading all of this who's now thinking "holy shit you're rich"... please don't. I've had one or two comments like that in the past and I know some other merch collectors have gotten them as well, and like, no matter how benign your intentions, you really shouldn't be commenting on other people's financial status at all, but especially not on their own post when you know they will then be able to see it.

I'm not going to lie and say collecting merch from Japan is cheap (and I feel like the price has gone up quite a bit in the last couple of months in terms of shipping) and I recognise I'm very lucky to be in a financial position to be able to do it but I am certainly not rich. The reason I can afford this sort of stuff is because I do part-time work on top of my actual work (which is also in part why I've been so absent from this blog lately), the only dependents I have are my orchids and I'm generally pretty money conscious when it comes to everything else.

So yeah, in the grand scheme of things, I'm well aware that I'm extremely lucky to have any sort of disposable income but having a small amount of disposable income doesn't make you rich and really should be the minimum if you're working full-time (I know it isn't, but it should be, and we can blame the people who are really rich for the fact it isn't).

There are a lot of things I personally cannot and will probably never be able to do because I doubt I will ever be in a position where I'll be able to afford them (like buying a house or having kids or, to be honest, even having a dog) and that's the reason why I really don't want people commenting things like "you must be rich". My life is and will continue to be incredibly constrained by money and if I like to give myself the illusion of freedom by periodically buying bits of plastic with Shin's face on them, then that's up to me.

Apologies that this last part has gotten so long winded but in light of talking about finances, I kind of wanted to explain why I personally don't want strangers making comments about my theoretical wealth and I doubt any other merch collectors do either.

Also Anon, I understand you're likely just curious so please don't think this is directed at you, I just didn't want to answer with a lump sum and then risk getting any more comments like the sort I've discussed above. I hope you have a good day!

#reply #apologies if this seems to have come from nowhere but some experiences in my formative years #have meant money is now a bit of a sensitive subject for me #especially since the UK government tripled University tuition fees when I was 12 with no warning #if you look at my student debt my overall monetary worth is in the negative #even if you were to discount all of my possessions against it #... actually that's a really depressing thought I'm going to bed now

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egoludes · 4 years

Text

satisfaction guaranteed.

summary: your super soldiers hear there’s a new contender in the bedroom; they intend to learn all about it.

pairing: stucky x reader.

notes: ok, i’ll admit it - this is so outrageously self-indulgent and fully inspired by a recent, um, purchase. i was hoping to get it out in time for valentine’s day, but then work kicked my ass - so consider it a delayed love letter to y’all heh. my apologies in advance to the manufacturers of the sex toy featured here; please don’t sue me? borders from deathlyrph!

warnings: nsfw / 18+, threesome, sex toy, implied & light overstimulation

He doesn’t mean to listen in - scout’s honor.

There just isn’t much that Bucky’s super soldier hearing misses and the raving of some very giddy --- and very drunk --- Avengers is nowhere near that list. He’s actually pleased to hear the way you, Natasha, and Wanda are carrying on when he rounds the corner. Missions have been taking a toll lately, keeping everyone on the team on edge and up late. You, in particular, have been distant, putting on a facade that never quite reaches your eyes, and he and Steve have been on wit’s end trying to perk you up.

The ladies, it seems, have it all figured out. You’re laughing freely for the first time in weeks, and Bucky’s grateful that no one (particularly Sam) can see the way the sound makes him utterly lovesick. His adoration keeps him still a few seconds longer, basking in how free you seem, but he doesn’t intend to stay much past that. In fact, he’s a half-step into leaving when he hears it:

“So, wait -- have you tried it yet? The Satisfyer?”

Confusion brings him to a full stop. Satisfyer?

That feeling only grows, knitting his eyebrows, when you’re the one to answer with an emphatic, and damn near dreamy “Yes.”

Bucky’s an intelligent man and the name alone is a pretty effective context clue. Still, he doesn’t really put it together until Wanda squeals and Nat (who he can see in his mind’s eye, clear as day, leaning into you with that cheeky smirk) pushes you for more.

“It’s kind of...overwhelming,” you continue, pausing to refill your glass, “but in the best way. Like in a ‘How did I ever masturbate before this’ kind of way. My knees literally buckled when I got up after. Can you believe that? Buckled! I was fuckin’ woozy! ” He can tell you’re animated just by the way your volume starts to rise and whatever you’re doing must be endearing because even Natasha is chuckling.

Bucky still loves it, don’t get him wrong. In fact, he adores you excited like this, especially after all the darkness lately. But, there’s something genuinely puzzling about so much excitement around a sex toy. He hadn’t even known you’d bought something new. When had you tried it? Where were he and Steve?

His thoughts start to swirl, intrigue and curiosity mounting in a wave that he pushes past with a step, then another, as he reminds himself that he has somewhere to be.

No chance he’ll be forgetting about this, though.

Steve hears about it from Bucky.

Secondhand stories can be tricky; full of exaggerations and misunderstanding. But, that doesn’t mean he doesn’t believe it. He just doesn’t comprehend the implications of it until he experiences it for himself.

That happens on a Saturday afternoon.

You’d been tense in training, taking hits you’ve dodged a thousand times and fumbling moves you’ve done twice that. A bad bout typically doesn’t do you in, but Steve can tell by the way your attacks grow more and more stilted, that you’re overextending just to make blows meet.

It gets so bad that he breaks one of his few cardinal rules -- never pulling rank with you or Bucky outside of missions -- to get you out of the spar, and your frustration with it is as clear as the exhaustion that sags your limbs. You’re out the door before he can apologize, or explain.

An hour later, he’s showered and changed, seeking you out in your corner of the compound with peace offerings at the ready. This time, they come in the form of your favorite snack and a promise to spar with you himself the next time you’re scheduled - no holds barred.

But, when you pull open the door at his knock, he’s surprised to see that he may not need them.

You’re completely...sated. The tension you’d had in your shoulders when you left the gym is nowhere to be found and in its place is a sheen of satisfaction. It’s all over you: in a dopey smile, lidded eyes, and the faint whiff of your cunt he gets when he leans into you.

In an instant, he puts two and two together, and Steve feels his body warm at the realization that you’ve just finished touching yourself. And not just that: it had been so good that your entire mood’s flipped and you’re beaming at him, no walls or reservations.

He makes his apology all the same, though, and your smile widens as you reach for him and the snack in a tease: “Better not back out on that fight, Captain.”

He grins back, pleased you’re feeling better, but making a mental note to speak to Bucky as soon as you let him go.

I think we need to check out this ‘Satisfyer’.

They ask you about it on Valentine’s Day.

You’re running on the high of a beautiful evening: dinner in DUMBO and drinks in Brooklyn Heights. The latter -- a couple cocktails for you, white wine for your boys -- finds you buzzing as you let them into your room back at the compound. You feel eyes on your hips from behind, heavy gazes that sear the curves, and you sway pointedly, smiling at the sharp breaths that follow.

You know where the night is going ---- know the way a good date makes them handsy. So the attention is no surprise. Neither is the cool press of metal to your back and the kiss to that spot under your ear. “Bed, pretty girl,” Bucky drawls against your skin, intent pressing -- and growing -- against your hip as he settles against you.

Steve rounds you from the other side, not touching but so close you can feel the rise of heat from his body. You look up just in time to catch him watching you back, blue eyes darkening with each step into your bedroom.

Your dress is easy work, pooling at your ankles with a few good pulls, But, Steve and Bucky take their time with everything else. You’re in something special, after all --- pretty lace and dewey colors that deserve an extra look, an extra touch. They’re on you the moment it’s revealed to them, thumbing the fabric with murmured praise through the lips all over your skin.

The daze it sets follows you all the way to the mattress where you lay back against Steve’s chest (still clothed, to your chagrin) with his arms settled around you. His hands end up bracing your thighs, naturally at first, then deliberately as Bucky starts to kiss trails up and over your calf. With the latest string of missions, you can’t remember the last time you had their mouths on you and the anticipation as Bucky’s creeps closer is almost crippling. Your body tenses with each point of contact, eyes lidding as they watch him rise, inch by tortuous inch.

“Sweetheart.” Steve’s voice pulls you out of your focus with a rumble you can feel in your back. “We wanna try something new with you tonight.” You turn just enough to watch him, answering with a hum to urge him on. “Can you tell Buck,” he continues, dipping to run his nose along yours. You feel tiny when he bears down on you like this, and he can see the way it affects you just in the flutter of your lashes. “--where you keep your ‘Satisfyer’?”

What?

In a split second, you’re sobered up, no hint of the lust or buzz that’d been following you for most of the night. Bringing toys to bed isn’t new by any means, but they have never, ever referred to one by name like that. Nor requested it specifically. It’s so startling that you don’t know what to say for a moment, mind utterly blank until you feel Bucky’s hand tighten around your thigh to bring you back. “You -- my what?”

“Satisfyer,” Steve echoes, hand resting on your tummy. From below, you can feel Bucky’s eyes burning into the side of your face, expectant. “Buck’s heard you mention it before, and we’d like to know what all the fuss is about. ---- If you’re willing, that is.”

You look back and forth between them, mouth gaping for a second before you swallow your shock down whole. Two super soldiers can be a lot to manage on their own -- adding a toy that’s knocked you on your ass a few times over now seems like a very dangerous game. But, you can feel Steve hardening against your back and can’t deny the slick that’s seeping through your panties at the thought alone. So you nod, lip pulled between your teeth, and direct Bucky to the left side of your bottom drawer.

When he’s back between your legs, it’s with the rose gold toy in hand. The mere sight of it makes you clench; something he doesn’t miss when he’s that close to your core. “Someone’s excited,” Bucky muses, brow arching before his gaze returns to his hand. The Satisfyer is unlike any toy he’s ever seen, shaped more like some alien gadget than a vibrator, and no amount of Google sleuthing could’ve prepared him for what it feels like in person. The smoothness of it in his hand, the unique curves along his palm. You bite back a giggle at how intently he inspects it, turning it over this way and that to get used to its weight.

“Hmm.. that’s definitely different,” Steve chimes in, as focused on the toy as Bucky is. It isn’t hard to work out how it’s used from the design alone, but what they’re still itching to know is what it does. How it unravels you so well, until your knees buckle even. And it doesn’t take long for that anticipation to trump their curiosity and you’re brought back to the moment when Steve ducks his head to your shoulder, pressing kisses to the skin there as he smooths hands down your inner thighs. He draws his palms back and forth a few times until they suddenly still, and he’s holding your legs -- and you -- wide open. “How about we give it a go, pal?”

Bucky says nothing in return, but he probably doesn’t have to. The toy clicking to life is enough, a rhythm that fills the room with anticipation. Your tummy tightens at the sound -- another reaction neither man misses -- and the tension stays put, coiled tight until the Satisfyer closes over your clit.

The first pulse knocks air out of you that you hadn’t realized you were holding. The ones that follow unfurl you, melting your anticipation in favor of a soft, thrumming pleasure that coats you head to toe. It’s odd, having someone else use it on you, but in a good way. The best way.

You surrender to it, relaxing into Steve’s hold as Bucky holds you open with two fingers. So far, that’s no different than normal --- you’re always this pliant for them, putty beneath their fingers once they get to work. But, tonight, they’re greedy. Tonight, they want more from you; want whatever this toy has been able to draw out in their absence.

Bucky kicks things up a notch, turning the pulse up two speeds. The change is subtle to them, clicks coming just a smidgen faster and louder. For you, it seems to make all the difference. Immediately, you react, back arching up from its place against Steve’s chest with a sound that makes the Captain purr behind you.

“Mm...must feel good,” he notes, a hand gliding along your tummy until he can palm your breast. “Can you tell us, sweetheart?” He punctuates the question with fingers around your nipple, tweaking lightly.

Your lips part, but no words follow; not at first. It’s like your body and mind are disconnected, static in the places where they usually go together. The fuzziness is welcome, but hard to speak through, and it’s all you can do just to whine when Steve gives your nipple an urgent pinch. Bucky joins in with a cool finger pressing at your cunt, the light whirring from his arm giving you something concrete enough to focus on. ‘S good,” you finally pant, twisting to tuck your head into Steve, “so good.”

Bucky huffs out a chuckle and your entire body goes tight; with his face so close, you can feel every breath. “That mean you’re gonna let us finish you up, just like this?”

It’s a rhetorical question --- has to be, the way he presses the toy tighter to your clit. Still, you answer with an eager nod, legs widening some as if to give him the go ahead. “Please, Buck, ‘m close already, it -- right there, I-I’ll--” Your pleas are pretty, a desperate melody, and they appease every base instinct Bucky has. He’d wanted to keep you on edge a little longer to explore the toy more, but he’s a sucker for his girl; always has been. You win him over without even trying.

Steve isn’t far behind, cock leaking in his dress pants seeing you so desperate. He hasn’t gotten his hand on the toy yet, but even he seems to feel its effect. The hand that isn’t cupping your breast spreads over your tummy, delighting in the way the flesh underneath tightens and spreads. You’re certainly close --- he knows your body as well as you do. And the thought of it makes him hungry, makes him press teeth into the skin behind your ear as he urges you on: “Go on, honey -- make a mess for us.”

Your peak comes fast after that, punching you in the gut with its intensity. The first wave of orgasm runs right through you, leaving a tremble in its wake, and your hips twist instinctively to escape the toy. Bucky, however, isn’t so forgiving, metal curling around your hip in a vice. Ride it out, he seems to say with a dark, lidded glance from between your legs.

You whimper in response, head tipping back against Steve’s chest as you fumble for purchase in the warmth of Bucky’s free hand.

Something tells you this will be a long night.

Forty minutes later, you can’t see straight.

Your first orgasm had been gradual, as tentative as the men watching this new toy work you. But, after that, it’s like a flip switches in Bucky and Steve, making them greedy for as many more as they can get.

The second one isn’t long after the first. Bucky turns the Satisfyer up to the highest setting, the other end of the spectrum that you hadn’t even gotten a chance to try on your own yet. The first contact lights fire through your sensitive body and you’re on the brink in just minutes. Toes stretching and curling into the sheets by Bucky’s hips, you’re practically squirming with need and it only takes one good twist of the toy for you to crumble all over again. They give you a break after that, but most of it is spent kissing you too long for you to catch your breath.

You don’t mind that too much, though.

The third orgasm is Steve’s fault. Ever the strategist, he starts thinking through the ways they can play with frequency and angle to make you cum again. You don’t notice it in your foggy comedown, but he’s fished his phone out and flicked through to a page he’s looked over more times that he cares to admit. And when Bucky settles between your legs to get you going again, he finally speaks up. “Buck, I found this review online---” Both you and Bucky turn to him, curiosity in the way you gape, but he’s making a face back that’s loud and clear: ‘do not ask’. “---that said they were able to cum in a couple minutes with this alone. Had some interestin’ suggestions about how, too.” He grins around a Brooklyn drawl, that handsome face stirring something in you when it looks so devious. “You think we can get our girl finished faster than that?”

They pull it off -- embarrassingly easily at that -- and it’s in the pale of that third climax that they finally, finally press inside you.

Your cunt is soaked, supple and warm around Steve as he sits you down over his cock. After so much play, the stretch is nothing, a pleasant burn in the pit of your belly that makes your eyes flutter closed.

“Tell us how you feel,” Steve asks for the second time that night, his voice strained around the effort to keep from fucking you. Even if you’re taking him well -- easier than ever before, in fact -- he’s cautious not to lose his head, no matter how much he wants to.

No matter how much the urge to plow you into your mattress dizzies him.

Your eyes are still closed when you respond, tongue over your dry lips as you part them with a needy sound. “S-Still good…,” you sigh, mind swimming. You want to move, start to move in a mindless search for some friction. But, the rocking doesn’t last long, stuttering to a stop when you hear the toy click to life and try to focus through the haze of your pleasure with eyes darting for answers.

You find them in the smug grin on Bucky’s face as he palms the Satisfyer in one hand and works his cock out of his pants with the other. “What,” he purrs, voice lilted in a taunt, “you didn’t think we were done with this yet, did you?”

Oh yeah --- this’ll definitely be a long night.

#steve rogers x reader #bucky barnes x reader #stucky x reader #steve rogers x you #bucky barnes x you #steve rogers x y/n #bucky barnes x y/n #steve rogers smut #bucky barnes smut #tags will come after work!

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monodipita · 3 years

Text

an icy stroll with the cavalry captain

words: 1,600

warning(s): general dark themes ahead, yandere themes

A/N: part 1/?? --do send in requests for content if you have any, my request box is open.

"Disobeying curfew, are we, [Y/N]? Naughty, naughty!"

His snooty, heartless tone produced shivers to roll down your spine. You swallowed thickly and turned your head to view none other than Kaeya, which caused you to freeze in place--to be expected of the cryo user. What a devilishly handsome man!

"How did you know?" You asked. And here you thought you disguised your tracks so well...

"Every night for the past twelve nights, you leave your home and stroll leisurely through this area before you take a right around the shrub and head in that direction. What's it mean to you?" He dodged your question with another one, making you bite the inside of your cheek nervously. "Is it that partner of yours?" He pressed, "not enough time to see them in the day? It must be nice to be with the one you love, it's not something I get to experience often." He chuckled, "lucky you."

"You can relax around me, you know. It's only my duty as a Knight to watch over the citizens of Mondstadt," He purred at you to possibly ease your mind, but you felt uncomfortable with the situation. Kaeya was a shady man, no questions asked. . .who knew what he was thinking at any given time? The only predictable thing about him was his drinking habits.

"I-I should go home." You spoke quietly, barely above the lull of an inside voice. How amusing, given the hurt in your heart. You wanted to see your partner so badly. Tonight was a special night for you both, and you didn't want to miss it for anything in Teyvat.

"Mm, now, where's the fun in that? I'm not opposed to the idea of you meeting up with your partner, if that's what you're thinking," Kaeya responded coolly, walking up to you and wrapping an arm around your shoulder. You immediately tensed, causing him to chuckle and lean in close to you. He smelled faintly of alcohol, a scent he could've worn naturally by this point. "If it's because you want to see your beloved, by all means, I wouldn't want to be a buzzkill. I'll keep you company while you walk, aye?"

...could you really say no?

"Sure, I guess," you flash a nervous smile at him. "Ah!" He exclaimed with a grin formed on his handsome lips, "then let's not waste time! I know you want to get to your partner's home."

And so, the two of you shared the cobblestone-paved road while he "escorted" you to your destination. The silence between you created a tension so thick that it could've been pierced with a weapon. In your mind, you were trying to make sense of things, but nothing seemed to come up. Just why would Kaeya be out so late at night? You just couldn't think of anything.

"You know, your partner has a pretty sharp eye in the Knights. How do you feel about them becoming an outrider?" Kaeya casually asked. Again, about your partner. You were beginning to notice a pattern, but to keep up appearances, you played along. "I had a feeling they were going to excel. I'm very proud of them, they're usually way too hard on themselves."

"It's because you were training them, weren't you?"

...

Again on the reminder that you could've gone into the knights yourself. He must've been scarred by that day. "Kaeya," you sighed exasperatedly and eyed him with a vexed expression, "please. I'm not, and won't be ready to enter into the knights. You know this, and yet you still find the heart to guilt trip me every time you bring it up?" You jabbed at him. "Have you any way of considering me at all?"

"I am considering you. By pressuring you, of course. Tough love never hurt anyone. Diluc and I practice that type of behavior all the time." If holding weapons at each other's throats was considered "tough love", then you didn't know what to think. "As long as I can pressure you enough to join the knights, then I know you'll thank me later."

"Why?!" You suddenly snapped, bringing your "leisurely" (if stepping so aggressively you could shake little baby teeny pebbles was leisurely, then sure) pace to a complete stop. You turned to face him and glared into his one, piercing azure eye. "I've told you time and time again that I don't want to be in the knights!"

"You don't mean that." Kaeya's eyes hooded, his tone eerily casual. "You wouldn't possibly spend out on spending time with some of the best-skilled people in Mondstadt, would you? I don't think you've even considered the opportunity that's been given to you. Constantly, mind you. I've practically gifted it to you on a silver platter. Are you proud that your...partner..." he seemed to hold back from saying anything rude, "has assumed your position?"

"..." you glared at him.

"Because I'm not," he purred. Even when things were so heated, he didn't even seem to break a sweat. He gently gripped your chin with minimal resistance on your end, and his chilled fingers braced your throat. Your body tensed, while your eyes narrowed. "What the hell are you doing?"

"It should've been you as my partner, not them. They're nowhere near you, who you are, and what you could be. In fact, your partner is holding you back. I don't think we have to see eye-to-eye to see such an obvious fact, yes?" Kaeya's voice dropped lower, to that of a mumble. "If only you accepted just how skilled you are, then we wouldn't be in this situation. I wouldn't have to see them every day, I could see you instead. I could be--" he stopped, while you remained silent. The duality of him saying 'partner' started to really fuck with your head. The air was so thin, coupled with no one being around to see or hear what was going on, that he was even able to get away with this.

"But alas, you want to continue wasting your breath on an unfortunate human being. I'm certainly not the one to meddle in other people's business, so I'll escort you to your partner's home, and I'll be well on my way..." He trailed off then, putting a pause in his unsettling dialogue. You furrowed your brows as he dropped his hold on your chin, releasing it from the icy grip he maintained on it. How utterly terrifying.

"...I don't want to walk with you anymore." It was all you could muster. Your lip trembled, possibly from a mix of the encroaching cold, Kaeya's words, and a blend of anger and fear. "I want you to get away from me."

"Let's relax," Kaeya hummed as he draped his hands over your shoulders. He turned you into the direction of your partner's home and gave you the gentle push to resume walking. "I'm harmless. Please? Just this one night. I can take you there, and we don't have to say a single word to anyone. We'll just keep my drunken ramblings between us, yes?" He drank so much that his breath permeated alcohol, no matter what time of the day. You must've gotten used to smelling it on him.

And foolishly, you believed his words. You took a deep breath and channeled your anger into a deep exhale, which expelled some of the negative feeling out of your body. He wanted to remain friendly, right? That was totally fine. Sure. Friendly.

As the two of you continued on your venture, the setting of Mondstadt began to rapidly change. The two of you ventured away from the live atmosphere that carried on, even this late at night, despite the curfew arranged for this city of freedom. These homes and buildings that surrounded you weren't lit up at all, and to tell the truth, it didn't seem like anyone was in them. The post lamps served as the only light to guide your way through the wide streets. It was very creepy...

But as you realized that you'd been walking for far too long to have reached your partner's home, your footsteps came to a stop. This was their street, right? "Why... why did we walk all the way out here? Kaeya, where the hell did you take me?" You worriedly looked over at Kaeya, but noticed that he was missing.

"The only way I could make you mine was if I isolated you, of course. I was so moved by your performance that I felt the need to act. I feel bad for lying to you, but not enough to apologize." Kaeya hovered over your half-conscious body. "I've waited far too long for this opportunity. Days turned into weeks, and weeks turned into months. Someone in their right mind would've stopped... no, someone in their right mind wouldn't have even done what I've done in the first place, but I'm a patient man, and I'll do whatever it takes to get what I want done."

"What... what do... you..." You couldn't even speak, he must've hit you too hard. Oops.

"What do I want? I want you, silly. I wouldn't go through all this trouble if I didn't. You're so special to me that I'd resort to committing unspeakable acts,"

He lifted your half-conscious body up into his arms. "I'm so excited! I've been waiting for this opportunity ever since you got with your partner! And now I can have you to myself. Don't ever question my method of doing things; just know that I get them done." His voice carried into the air.

#yandere kaeya x reader #kaeya x gender neutral reader #kaeya x you #yandere x reader #yandere kaeya #yandere #genshin impact #genshin x gender neutral reader #gender neutral insert #reader insert

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arrowflier · 3 years

Note

hi arrow! can i get a fic of ian being jealous on a date (maybe someone flirts with mickey??) and mickey just loves it bc it makes ian all passive aggressive and bossy and saying 'my husband' 283949 times ❤️

Of course you can! Or at least I tried lol, it got a little random.💖

That Green-Eyed Monster (is my husband)

They never had really gotten in the habit of going on dates, before. Not real dates at least, in public places where you could eat with utensils or sit side-by-side and pretend to watch the entertainment while you were really just watching each other. They had tried, but something always got in the way--the military, jail sentences, arrest warrants, pandemics, family emergencies--they just had shit luck, alright?

So when things got a little less crazy on the aforementioned fronts, they started trying a little bit harder. They had a designated date night, now. Sometimes they planned together, sometimes they took turns surprising each other with heartfelt (or sometimes comical) plans.

This time, it had been Mickey's turn.

“Where are we going?” Ian asked yet again from where he was blindfolded in the passenger seat of Tami’s car. They’d usually take the ambulance, but Mickey didn’t want to stick out too much today—not in a place where an ambulance could potentially be needed.

“I still ain’t gonna tell you,” Mickey answered, but relented enough to add, “we’re almost there though, you’ll see soon.”

Sure enough, the entrance to the parking lot came up on the right, and Mickey swung in in that ridiculous little car.

As soon as Ian felt the car stop, he was reaching for his blindfold—not one of their good ones, just an old headband they had found on Debbie’s floor—but Mickey grabbed his hand before he could slip it off.

“Hey hey hey,” Mickey chastised. “What’s the rush there, flash?”

“What, I can’t be a little eager for our date?” Ian pouted, knowing it would get Mickey to give in. No matter how many times he tried to pretend that he wasn’t soft, Mickey always gave in to the pout.

He was right. Gentle hands pushed the headband off of Ian’s eyes, which were immediately filled with the sight of Mickey’s own as the other man ran fingers through Ian’s hair in an attempt to smooth it down.

“Alright, come on then,” Mickey ordered, leaving one firm kiss at the corner of Ian’s lips before pulling back and getting out of the car. “If you’re so eager, you get to pay.”

Ian chuckled as he let himself out and met Mickey around the front of the car. “Why would I pay?” he asked jokingly. “It’s your week to woo me, asshole, you get to foot the bill.”

“Foot the bill with your money, sure,” Mickey retorted, and Ian rolled his eyes as he automatically fell into step beside him.

“Our money,” he reminded his husband, getting an arm around his waist. He was always surprised when Mickey let him do that—he said it felt awkward to walk with the jolly red giant suckered onto his side—but this time Mickey actually leaned into him.

He didn’t even notice where they were, outside a little building in the middle of nowhere. He let go of Mickey to walk through the door ahead of him, fully intending to continue their playful banter, when he stopped still.

There were a lot of guns in this place.

Paintball guns, that was.

“Mickey,” Ian said slowly as his husband came up behind him, “did you bring me here to shoot me?”

Mickey just smirked as he swanned past toward the check-in desk.

“Maybe, hotshot,” he answered. “You gonna complain?”

Ian shook his head with a shit-eating grin.

“Hell no,” he declared. “You better be ready for me.”

Mickey signed his name on a waiver with a flourish and took the gun handed to him by a worker, tossing it to Ian.

“Am I ever not?”

—

Ian was having a blast, pun intended, as he shot the shit out of everybody else on the range. Mickey wasn’t faring too badly either; despite being on the opposite team, neither one of them had managed to shoot each other yet.

It didn’t hurt that Mickey looked damn good, either. He was completely in his element out here, taking guys out left and right with perfect marksmanship and even more perfect form, his shoulders barely moving with the recoil as he shot. Half the time, Ian missed his chance because he was too busy watching him to fire—the other half, he didn’t even want to if it meant taking Mickey out of the game and losing his eye-candy.

Finally, a break was called, and everyone filed off the course while it was reset for the next round.

Ian grabbed a bottle of water from a long table near the building, guzzling half of it in one go before looking around for his husband.

He found him quickly enough, recognizing his back immediately even in unfamiliar gear with his hair all mussed from the protective helmet they had to wear.

But he did not recognize the man standing next to Mickey, raking his eyes over Mickey’s stocky build.

The stranger was saying something, Mickey tossing his head back in laughter, and then a hand was on Mickey’s arm and Ian suddenly found himself at Mickey’s back.

“Everything good here, fellas?” Ian asked casually, standing a couple feet away.

“Fine, Gallagher,” Mickey said with a smile. “Johnny here was just tellin’ me he could give me some pointers before the next round.”

Ian raised his eyebrows, glancing from Mickey’s face to the stranger’s and back.

“Pointers?” he asked, voice going a touch high at the end. Who the fuck did this guy think he was, offering shooting pointers to Mickey fucking Milkovich? He had gotten there just in time, it seemed, because there was no way in hell Mickey would let that insult slide.

“Yeah,” Mickey said. “Says I need to work on my form a little, widen my stance, you know. Thought I’d give it a shot.”

Wait. What?

“I was just telling him,” the stranger—Johnny, though how they were on a first name basis already Ian had no idea—chimed in, “that I have a lot of experience with real firearms.”

“And I was sayin’ how much I admire a military man,” Mickey interjected with a smirk, “so I might as well let him show me some moves.”

“Mickey,” Ian hissed lowly, “what are you doing?”

Mickey didn’t answer.

“You ever shot a real gun, Mick?” Johnny asked abruptly, catching on that he was missing something but determined not to lose Mickey’s attention.

“It’s like nothing else, dude, I swear. The feel of that smooth metal in your hands,” he continued as he moved closer, lifting a hand to Mickey’s arm again. “The way it moves with you, goes off when you,” he leaned in even closer, and added in a low voice, “pull the trigger.”

Alarm bells were ringing in Ian’s head at this point.

“Nah,” Mickey was answering, “my guy won’t let me play with the real stuff.”

“Sounds like you need a new guy, then,” Johnny murmured, and Ian had had enough.

“He’s taken,” he cut in gruffly, moving to stand by Mickey’s side. He couldn’t hold Mickey with the gear in the way, but he got a hand on his back, at least, curling fingers into the top of his waistband.

Johnny looked at him askance, and shrugged.

“I don’t see a ring,” he pointed out, and Ian grit his teeth. They had taken them off before starting, for safety, and he never regretting following the rules more a day in his life.

“Besides, who are you to speak for him?” Johnny asked.

“Oh, this is Ian,” Mickey introduced quickly. He was smiling, the asshole, like some guy wasn’t trying to steal him from right under Ian’s own nose. “He’s my—”

“His husband,” Ian stated firmly, and watched Johnny’s eyes go wide. “His ex-army, ex-con husband.”

“Hey man, I’m sorry,” Johnny apologized, hands up. “I didn’t know.”

Ian nodded, ready to let it go despite his urge to send the man packing, when Johnny insisted on talking again.

“You can’t blame me though, right?” he said with a little, nervous laugh. “I mean, he looks so damn—”

He didn’t finish his sentence, too busy keeling over with his hands on his groin after Ian shot a paintball right at his balls at point-blank range.

—

Two minutes later, Ian and Mickey were racing to the car as employees chased behind them, yelling. Apparently it was frowned upon to shoot someone on your own team, outside the course itself, during a break. It didn’t help that Mickey had done the same right after, just for fun.

“Hurry up, you jealous fuck,” Mickey shouted at Ian as he fumbled with the door handle. “We gotta get outa here before they realize I gave them fake names!”

Ian fell into the car, giddy with adrenaline and laughter.

“The fuck did you do that for?” he giggled as Mickey threw the car into reverse and peeled out of the lot.

“Cause I knew you would do something stupid!” Mickey said, shoving at Ian’s shoulder with one hand when Ian just laughed harder.

Ian gather himself as they drove, and felt his heart-rate start to normalize after a few minutes on the road. He held Mickey’s hand over the gearshift, finger rubbing over the spot where his ring should be—where it would be again as soon as they had a minute to breathe. Then, just as he was almost calm—

“Shit, Ian,” Mickey gasped. “We didn’t return the fucking guns.”

That set them off again, and they had to pull over halfway home until they could stop laughing and hide the paintball guns under the back seat.

Franny and Fred would love them come Christmas.

#daily speedwrite #fanfic #gallavich #ian gallagher #mickey milkovich #omc #jealous Ian #little shit Mickey #date night

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capricorn-stark · 3 years

Text

Protégé

pairing: red hood!jason todd x robin!reader, slow burn

warning: swearing

a/n: for context, this is somewhat loosely based off of Battle for the Cowl (2009) which I definitely recommend as a read!

There was something about falling that you would never, ever get tired of.

Ever.

Probably.

With the wind whistling in your ears, your hair floating up in a million directions, and your limbs seemingly weightless as the buildings and lights blurred into one endless streak of color, the rush of adrenaline that ran through your body right before your grappling hook shot out and you landed quietly on the concrete was about a million times better than any sparring session back at the cave.

You grinned as you straightened, rather proud of the fact that you had actually managed to land so smoothly without nearly paralyzing yourself. Again.The landing was something you had been working on for a while now.

You could practically hear Bruce’s voice ringing through your head after your little stunt, lamenting on and on about how you had more important things to focus on during patrols, and you let out a sigh as you ran down the backway of the nearly empty streets.

The heavy man who had been bound up with a decently made gag and one of Bruce’s fancy tech pieces (Batcuffs, maybe? Something else with Bat smacked in front of it?) grunted beside you.

“What? Not like you had someplace to be.” You grabbed the back of his rather tacky-looking spandex suit to drag him along back to where your mentor was supposed to be.

Despite your (many) disagreements and his (many) criticisms of your hand-to-hand combat skills, attitude issues, and pretty much everything else relating to you, Bruce had actually still allowed you to go off on your own tonight. It might’ve been because he wanted a few hours of nothing but beating up petty criminals by himself for stress-relief, it might’ve been because he had started trying out that whole independence thing with you a little more (even though you were still only permitted to be about five blocks or so away), it might’ve been plot-convenience - but either way, you appreciated the gesture.

It didn’t take long for you to pull your new friend over to what should’ve been your rendezvous point with Batman, letting the man drop with a dull thud and a grunt of protest against the concrete as you glanced around for the other man. You weren’t particularly concerned by the fact that the Bat himself wasn’t there yet - after all, he was the goddamn Batman. He’d show up eventually. In the meanwhile, you decided to go over the information you had gotten on the criminal with you.

Just for the sake of it. Bruce would make you go over it anyways.

“Drury Walker, thirty-two years old, found him trying to mug someone in a back alley and make an escape. Called himself…” you paused, looking down at his sorry-looking outfit for a few moments while he looked up at you with murder and vengence in his eyes. “...Killer Moth.”

“Killer Moth?” A completely new voice repeated in disbelief, causing you to immediately whirl around to face them in a fight stance, heart racing at a million miles per hour. The guy in front of you had his hands up in the air, his face concealed with some sort of red knock-off Iron Man helmet. He was gonna get copyrighted by Marvel Studios. “Shit, sorry,” he started at the sight of you, still leaning up against one of the walls. “I was supposed to make a wholeass dramatic entrance, but you said his name was Killer Moth and that-” The man made a noise that was either a sharp cough or a laugh of some kind. “-sounded so fucking lame I couldn’t help myself.”

Despite the fact that you were definitely in some sort of major trouble with this new guy, he really did have a point. Even Killer Moth himself would’ve been embarrassed by how trash his name was, if not for the fact that he looked like he was on the verge of an aneurysm - understandably so, since the new guy had produced not one, but two guns out of apparently nowhere.

“And let me guess,” he continued, pointing one of them at your head, his tone still all-too light and easy. “You must be the Bat’s brand-new Robin.”

Now this is where most people would've shut up and proceeded to be complicit with the dude holding two guns. But Batman hadn’t seen reason and made you his (sort of) partner because you were like other people. Hell no.

“Do I look like a traffic signal to you?” It had been the very first of your amendments with Bruce. You would not be fighting crime looking like a literal traffic signal or, at best, a clown from Haly’s Circus. And the tiny green shorts had to go. “Or Robin Hood?” The guy had a rather awkward pause where his gun sort of dipped. Killer Moth was looking between you with wide eyes. “Do I?”

“I guess you kinda got a point.” You huffed and he raised his gun again, getting more in-your-face as his already angry-looking helmet somehow managed to look angrier. You weren’t exactly sure how a helmet could convey so much emotion. “But you work with Batman. And I heard you went by Robin.”

Okay, so you couldn’t make him change the name, but you had agreed it would be more of an honorary thing.

“It’s complicated.”

Using such a phrase as an excuse to escape from situations you didn’t want to go into was one of the many things you had learned from Bruce in your five months of training. Somehow, that seemed to trigger the guy further.

“So you do work with Batman.”

Before he could do something actually insane, you had managed to push the gun pointed at your head away from you, using his brief second of surprise to take it out of his hands, kick him in the chest, and round back on him with it in hand.

“And what about it?”

As cool as you thought you might’ve sounded didn’t cover for the fact that you were still nerve-wracked about what was happening right then. Especially after the guy started to dramatically slow-clap like some sort of evil thespian in a high school drama.

“Not bad, Robin. Not bad.” He looked at the gun in your hands and grinned. “If you weren’t Batman’s new replacement sidekick, I might’ve believed you had the balls to use that thing.”

Now, you were an excellent fighter. You had to be, after your excessive training with the guy who had literally mastered about every martial art in existence during his (give or take) five year-long mission to find himself. Plus, some personal experience. But fighting someone like this guy? Built like a tank and padded up in a whole lot of armor and packing an assortment of knives, guns, and even a damn taser you got a first-hand taste of?

You fought hard, but about five minutes and another round of the taser later, you saw the knock-off Iron Man helmet staring down at you before the world went black.

~*~

You woke up in what you assumed was the self-dubbed Red Hood’s safehouse of sorts.

“How the hell did he rope you into this shit?” he demanded with what you could only assume was him glaring at you through the helmet. Probably some expression that made someone look all angsty and annoyed - which was fair, since he had been trying to drill you for information you straight up refused to give while bound (way too tightly) to a chair for quite some time now. Rather rude. “Let me guess. You watched your parents die.” You stared at him before shrugging.

“Nope.”

“Oh, so they just went ahead and died somehow. Untimely accident caused by some psycho bitch in a Spirit Halloween costume.”

“…nope.”

“They abandoned you as a child.”

“No, they didn’t - does divorce count?”

Red Hoodlum’s hands kept clenching and unclenching while he stood there, staring at the wall behind you in silence. From the way his chest kept rising and falling, you were tempted to believe he was practicing breathing exercises amidst his rather violent twitching.

“Divorce - what the hell is your trauma supposed to be? Why did he pick you?!”

“Hey, just because my trauma doesn’t include people dying doesn’t make it any less traumatic,” you scoffed in response, knowing you were absolutely right about that. Your middle school guidance counselor had said so (and it’s true, ladies and gentlemen, trauma comes in many forms!). “Kinda rude to assume it didn’t affect me somehow.”

He seemed rather abashed at that and you heard him clear his throat a little.

“...right, yeah. Sorry.”

“Apology accepted - can you loosen these ropes a little? It’s starting to kinda hurt.”

“Do I look ten? That’s the oldest trick in the book, I’m not gonna-”

“I’m not going to run, just loosen the ropes a little.” He still looked like he didn’t believe you. “Come on, I don’t think I can outrun your guns.” As in his literal array of guns tacked up to the wall behind him, not his gigantic biceps.

And you weren’t too worried about being held hostage by him, either. You figured you had ten minutes tops before Batman burst in through the doorway, ready to give you a lecture on why straying from the specifically designated parts of Gotham he had let you traipse around was a terribly stupid idea.

“No.” He was already walking towards the door, because apparently, he had enough of trying to interrogate you.

“Hold on, I feel like my wrists are actually about to start bleeding or something - where are you going?”

“Keep talking and I’m gonna get the duct tape.”

“Is that a threat?” Sounding more confident than you actually felt should eventually make you more confident. Eventually.

The Red Hood sucked in a breath, stopping by the doorway and turning to face you, reaching into his pockets to get what you assumed was either a gun or duct tape when you both startled from a sudden crash. The man in front of you was already whirling around with two guns positioned to shoot when you heard the familiar voice of someone else.

“Hold your fire, soldier. I’m not here for you.” A pause. “Or I wasn’t, but now I kind of am.”

Apparently, Batman was too busy to save you. Now, you got Nightwing.

And as much as you liked Nightwing, that still kinda stung.

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juniorgman187 · 3 years

Text

Spoiled Rotten (Reid Fic)

Summary: After Spencer went radio silent on Reader while he was in prison, their pride and stubbornness threatens to tear them apart forever. Reader’s forced to mourn the death of who they were and experience the inner turmoil of navigating who they are.

A/N: Y’all are gonna kill me for the ending, but it’s one hell of a way to go. Pairing: Fem!Reader x Spencer Reid Category: Angst Content Warning: Imprisonment, humiliation, abandonment, anger, frustration, angst, yelling, fighting Word Count: 5.3k Playlist: Traitor by Olivia Rodrigo

Time jumps are indicated by “. . .” or “_ _ _”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

A rather unfortunate predicament we’ve found ourselves in tonight. I can’t say I’ve ever been quite this uncomfortable in my life, yet I’m careful not to speak too soon. Because I know the second Spencer opens his mouth to break the silence we’re currently sitting in, I’ll stand corrected.

“You’re breathing really hard,” He tells me out of nowhere.

See, I stand corrected.

Now that I’ve become hyper aware of my own inhale and exhale, my respiration is just that much more restricted. I’m practically holding my breath at this moment - both from the anticipation of catching this unsub in the act and giving Spencer one less thing to scrutinize about me.

“I didn’t say you had to stop breathing,” He tacks on as if it would put me any more at ease. Not that if he had explicitly said such a thing, I would’ve.

Unlike other people, I wasn’t exactly jumping at the chance to throw myself at his feet so he’d like me. But to use that as grounds for his disdain would be foolish. Our rancor went deeper than the basic lack of synergy between us.

And in the spirit of getting to the bottom of that abyssal pit, I finally asked the question with words that always seemed to hang above but never would form.

“Why was I the only one denied visitation while you were in prison?”

It may surprise you to know that it wasn’t always like this between us; we were actually close once, although it is hard to imagine that version of us ever really existing. However, if I think about it hard enough, I can remember with perfect clarity who we used to be.

. . .

“Jeez, you really don’t like these things do you?” I nudged him playfully before feeling instantly guilty once I witnessed the result of my shove that must’ve been a little too much for all 120 (at most) pounds of him. I’d neglected to remember the strength I held over the lanky Doctor as well as neglected to notice where the trajectory of my push would land him - in the direct line of a circus clown walking the opposite direction as us. This, of course, brought him face to face with the character. Unfortunately, I managed to catch a glimpse of the lens of Spencer’s glasses grazing the white face paint of the caricature.

After a shudder of mortification and a very brave shriek, Spencer ran to my other side to be as far away from the clown as possible and apparently, as close to me as possible. From a distance, you’d think we were conjoined simply by the way he was glued to me - shoulder to shoulder, elbow to elbow, hip to hip, thigh to thigh.

While removing his glasses to clean them off with the hem of his blazer, he answered, “Carnivals? I mean, what’s not to like? What with the loud noises, the heart-attack-inducing food that’s more grease than actual food, or the sheer amount of bacteria harboring on each and every handle, hoop, ball, or button of these ridiculous game booths.”

“Wow, you really don’t like carnivals.” I should’ve figured.

“Nope. Never have and probably never will.”

As someone who looked forward to the fair every summer of her childhood, any aversion to carnivals broke my heart. I had a fondness for them borne in adolescence that I couldn’t quite justify now in my adulthood.

“But they’re fun!” was the best argument I could muster. The whine in my voice being provoked by the possibility that the higher the shrill of my pitch, the easier he’d be to sway. Turns out, Dr. Reid was not nearly as susceptible to my auditory persuasion as I might’ve thought he was. Just a stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel.

“I’m sorry. I know you brought me here because you love these things, but I just can’t get past the ...” He surveyed the fair, ostensibly against his will, in search of the perfect word to describe our surroundings. “Filth.”

I would’ve argued in the defense of the carnival, mentioning how it’s endearing that the only bathrooms for miles were porta potties, and that the screaming, crying, sticky children galore just added to the attraction, and that there was a hidden charm to the way the roller coasters creaked beyond their means with every ride.

But to an extent, I agreed. It was rather filthy, and I wasn’t much of a germaphobe myself so to someone like him, this would be hell on earth.

“Well, you get what you put into it. If you’re willing to overlook some minor imperfections, I really think you’d enjoy this place.”

Spencer by now had his hands in his pockets and his walking pace had slowed to a complete halt. There was a moment of skepticism, followed by a partially open smile to make way for the laughter that escaped from the disbelief that he felt for letting me break his resolve so easily.

“Alright then. What do you want to do first, Brat?”

The nickname I’d earned could be seen as meanspirited, but truly, it was affectionately diminutive. Like all good nicknames are. And like the proclaimed Brat I was, I’d taken him to all my favorite parts of the fair.

First came the bumper cars to ease him into the experience - as ironic as that sounds. He was reluctant to submerge his gangly body into a mini vehicle, much less one that’d been inhabited by God knows how many people before us, but he pushed his reservations aside when he realized he’d get to slam into my car (safely, of course).

Secondly, we went on the Carousel, but this was only in preparation for the real ride that I wanted to take him on next - the Swinging Chairs. He’d gotten a little nauseous, from both the repetitive circling and the galvanized chains he had to hold that were definitely held by several others.

He had no interest in going on the Gravitron - super lame, I know - so we opted for the Ferris Wheel instead. I didn’t mind making this compromise so much after recognizing all that he’d done for my benefit that night. And for his generosity and selflessness, I thought it only fitting to end the night going somewhere so tame he couldn’t possibly have any opposition to it.

The photo booth.

The booth in particular we’d gone to was smaller than an airplane bathroom, if you can imagine that. The bench seat was barely wide enough to fit Spencer, let alone seat the both of us. While he didn’t explicitly make the offer to let me sit on his lap, it was kind of a give in that I’d have some part of my body intertwined around him like stubborn ivy.

. . .

I still laugh thinking about the tangled mess of limbs we were below what the camera couldn’t capture. It was arguably the furthest extent of contortionist work I wanted to do in my lifetime, and henceforth exceedingly uncomfortable, and yet, I’d never felt more at home than when I was in his arms.

That night he would tear off the top three photos to keep for himself while I kept the bottom three photos.

To this day, I have never seen the pictures that he kept, and I’m left to wonder if he had them at all.

Because I still have mine. And they were virtually the only thing keeping me sane throughout his trial and subsequent imprisonment.

Six Months Ago ...

My eyes were locked on the loose thread of my cardigan that I was rolling between my fingers anxiously.

“Would you stop that?” Penelope swatted my hand away from my sweater. “You’re making me nervous just looking at you.” She grumbled.

“Sorry,” I apologized bleakly.

A few seconds later she groaned again, making me think I was still doing something bothersome, but it turned out to be just the opposite. “Ugh, I know that sounded mean, and I hate when I sound mean, but I can feel my forehead creasing from the stress, and watching you fidget is going to give me an ulcer.”

“I wish I could help it. I’m just really worried about him.”

“Well I am, too, but that’s not gonna do us any good right now. All we can do is hope for the best.”

Sometimes Penelope’s overly optimistic view on life was futile and unwelcome, and truthfully, this was one of those times.

“Penny?”

As she turned her head, I caught a glimpse of my reflection in the lenses of her dark green glasses. I could see my own mournful expression as I asked, “What if he’s found guilty?”

She started to say something but stopped herself. “Right now, all we need to focus on is his bail. We can worry about a verdict later.” She put her hand on top of mine and shook it briefly to remind me that we were in this together.

Moments later recess was over and the team came trudging back into the courtroom.

The sound of the judge clearing her throat and our footsteps on the floor made this feel all too normal.

How could Spencer’s life be hanging in the balance in such a place as non-intimate as this?

It frustrated me how casual things felt today and how everyone was acting normally. Prentiss had yet to bat an eye, Rossi’s stoic expression never changed, and Penelope was telling me not to worry. Everyone was acting so aloof.

My eyes darted to Spencer, who was looking back at us woefully. I couldn’t bear to see him like that any longer, so I kept my head down and stared at my feet after I took my seat.

Even when I closed my eyes, I was haunted by the vision of him in a suit, just like one he’d wear to work. But instead, he was wearing it for this - this vastly different situation.

I don’t know if I’ll ever be able to look at him the same in one anymore. I’ll probably just remember this particular look on his face, in this god awful courtroom, during this horribly nauseating circumstance.

If one thing was for certain, it was that this would all come back to me if I ever laid eyes on him in a suit, and that thought fucking terrified me.

Because that one thought spiraled into the next: Everything was bound to change after this. Every little thing would change in every little way.

Spencer’s lawyer, the judge, and the prosecutor were going back and forth for a while, but I tuned it all out because I knew if I had tuned in, I wouldn’t have been able to hold back my arguments. Eventually, though, I heard something I could no longer ignore.

“If past behavior is the best indicator of future conduct, and I do believe it is, then your client presents a flight risk.”

I stood up immediately, getting a head rush from the speed. I knew what was to follow, so I needed to be on my feet the second I heard it. Maybe so I could run and escape before I had to.

“Bail is denied. The defendant will remain in federal custody pending trial.”

“Spencer!” I shouted, losing all the composure I’d been trying to maintain. I reached for him as if he was at any capacity to reach back and hold me. God, I needed him to hold me. Hold me like how he did at the carnival.

Hold me.

Luke held me back as I fought to be near him.

“Let me go!” I screamed, trying to break free of his tight grip. Spencer could only stand and stare, mirroring my own wistful glance. He mouthed something to me that I couldn’t quite make out, but if I knew him at all, he probably said something about not wanting me to worry about him.

“(Y/n), (y/n) it’s gonna be alright.” JJ reasoned, pulling me into a hug.

“How long before this case goes to trial?” I heard Prentiss whisper to Spencer’s lawyer.

“It’s a complicated case. I’d say three months maybe?”

Immediately, I worked myself out of JJ’s arms and pushed my way through the team, running up to the barrier between us.

“Spence!” I cried out in anguish.

To the sound of my voice, he glanced over his shoulder sadly. He wasn’t even shocked I’d been able to get so close to him - he seemed to expect it, and for that, he was sad. Because he knew if I was going to be as stubborn as to fight to get to him at this hearing, then I was going to be stubborn enough to reach him in prison, too. And should he find himself behind bars, he knew that I’d get to him one way or another.

That is if he’d let me.

“Be strong,” He weakly smiled. ‘For me’ his sad eyes begged in addition. He held my gaze for as long as he possibly could before disappearing into another room.

As I watched him walk away, I could feel my heart shattering and crumbling into the pit of my stomach. Perhaps that was a premonition, a true gut feeling, telling me something I at the time couldn’t have known and wouldn’t have accepted.

That was the last time I would see Spencer.

People always say when something unbelievable happens, it doesn’t feel real, but this? Nothing felt more real and more intense than this.

There was no other way for me to see this situation but as the first defeat in an endless line of them.

If Spencer was denied bail, what else could happen to him? Could he be found guilty too? Because prior to this, the denial of his bail seemed impossible. He posed no flight risk, but according to the judge, he did. So if what I once thought to be impossible happened, then it could and would happen again.

I knew Spencer was going to be found guilty.

What I didn’t know, though, was how I was going to live with myself from then on.

I didn’t go that day.

I knew myself too well. So did the others, which is why they didn’t object to my decision not to come to Spencer’s trial. They knew I was better off staying home. Especially, if there was the chance that I might react hysterically again.

I didn’t stay home, though. That part the team never found out about.

I went to visit Diana instead. A much wiser choice, in my opinion.

“You know, we’ve been talking so much about Spencer today, but we haven’t talked about you yet,” said Diana.

“Yeah, I guess that’s true.” I feigned a polite smile.

“You thought I wouldn’t notice?” She tilted her chin downward and gave me that sly grin of hers.

“No, no, of course not. I know better than to underestimate the Diana Reid.” I quipped, making her smile widen. “I just figured you’d wanna spend your time talking about someone much more interesting.”

“Oh please, Spencer and I talk about you all the time.”

I perked up from the checker piece I was fiddling with. “You do?”

“Mhm,” She nodded over and over again. “I always knew there was something between you two because you could always talk about each other to me, but for some reason, you could never actually talk to each other.”

For the first time in months, I genuinely laughed and I couldn’t help it. “He makes me nervous! I always feel like he might correct something I say, or tell me that there’s food in my teeth.”

“You know, now that you mention it, I do remember him saying something about seeing a really big piece of lettuce in your teeth one time.”

“Diana!” I squealed, pushing the checkerboard at her, pretending to take offense.

“I really don’t know what you’re so nervous about! I think it would be good if you just talked to him.”

“It’s, um, it’s not that simple. Not right now, at least.”

My energy quickly nose-dived and I tried to do my best to hide it from Diana, but it permeated through the rest of the visit. I couldn’t fully enjoy myself after it.

The team and I all agreed not to let Diana know, especially not with the uncertainty of the case. There was no point riling her up if there was nothing to be worried about. And I could only imagine how I reacted - Diana would be reacting 10 times more hysterically.

But as much as I hated to say it, I almost would’ve rather been in her position.

I would give anything to un-know Spencer’s circumstance.

Present Time ...

In this car, there was nowhere for him to run or hide, not like before.

Anytime I so much as entered his gravity by being in the same room, he’d flee the space in the next breath. Granted, he couldn’t really avoid me entirely. We did have to be on the same flight for an extended period of time, but he made that work by letting me choose my spot first, then choosing a spot directly on the opposite side of the jet.

What a gentleman, huh?

“Kudos to you, by the way. For managing to avoid me for this long. I imagine it’s been as not-easy as it has been incredibly-cowardly.” My words stung as they flowed from my lips as badly as I imagine they seared his already cracked skin. I couldn’t believe that now that I finally had the opportunity to talk to him, I was using it to be petty and passively aggressive. But then again, I could.

Because after what he put me through, he deserved to feel the full severity of my indignation.

My only wish was that he knew exactly how I had felt when I found out.

. . .

Icarus.

He died tragically while using artificial wings, invented by his father, to escape from the Labyrinth. When Icarus flew too close to the sun, it melted the wax that held the wings together, and he fell into the sea.

‘Don’t fly too close to the sun.’ That’s the moral of the story. That’s what Reid was trying to tell me. But I didn’t listen.

I flew too close.

I had approached the window with more zeal than this predicament warranted.

“I’m (y/n) (y/l/n). I’m here to see Spencer Reid, R-E-I-D,” I eagerly spelt his last name with ease as though it were my own last name.

She’d flipped back and forth between pages, running her index finger up and down the sheet for far too long that it made me worry. Turns out, I had every right to be worried.

“I don’t see you on the list, ma’am.”

I was so mindnumbingly dumb that I couldn’t even see how dumb I was being. “Oh no no no, I’m with the FBI. I called earlier and left a message, remember?”

“Yeah, I remember you,” She smiled politely, giving me the tiniest fragment of hope. “But you’re not on his list.” Only for it to be shattered in an instant.

I had yet to process or accept this information. “So what does that mean?”

“It means he doesn't wanna see you right now. And frankly, neither do I. Next!”

“Wait, could you just please check with him? My name is (y/n) -”

“Ma’am, you are holding up a whole line of people that wanna see their loved ones too, so I suggest you see yourself out before I call security to help see you out.”

I knew by her tone of the word ‘help’ that meant a prison guard would most likely forcibly remove me from the premises, and the last thing I needed was to feel even more humiliated.

I got plenty of that when I had to come back to the BAU.

“You’re not on the list?” Luke seemed genuinely shocked. More so than I was. Above all, I just felt really stupid.

“I’m sure it was just a mistake.” Stephen reasoned. He was so good at being level-headed. Which normally, I would’ve loved. But right now, it only fueled the fire burning in my chest.

“That’s what I thought at first, too. But later on, she asked him herself, and he said - and I quote, ‘I don’t want to see her. Not now. Not ever.’”

. . .

Those were the words that seared my skin, and he hadn’t even spoken them directly to me to do it.

The words that did just enough to heal me back to health were, of course, Penelope’s.

“Since you haven’t seen him yet, the rest of us will just wait until you have. It’s only fair that you have your first turn before the rest of us go back for a second time.”

Back then, it was easy to hold out hope, but the more and more time passed, the more he kept denying my visits. Therefore, the more my hope began to fade.

It had been weeks since anyone else had seen him before I finally surrendered. Although I had newly-brewing sourness towards Reid, it didn’t feel fair to deny him everyone else’s presence until mine was permitted.

Luke was the one who volunteered to visit first. And to my dismay, Spencer didn’t fight against it.

The proof was finally there. Now I could say with absolute certainty: Spencer just didn’t want to see me.

It was both ironic and utterly frustrating to think about how I’d never gone more than two weeks without seeing him. Even when the BAU got time off after big cases, we’d always spend that time together. The longest we’d spent apart was 12 days. And right when he came back to D.C, we were attached at the hip for the next week, trying to compensate for all that time we were apart.

Now, look at us. I haven’t said one word to him in half a year.

If tragedy and comedy could coexist, this would be it.

“How is he?” I asked Luke as soon as he got back.

“He’s holding on,” Luke affirmed with confidence. What he said next lacked any of that. “He told me to tell you not to worry about him.”

Something in me knew it was a lie. “Did he actually say that?”

His lack of an answer was one itself.

“Did he say anything at all about me?”

“I tried telling him how much you wanted to see him, but he just brushed it off. I’m sorry, (y/n).”

This became my routine for the months to follow. Every time someone would come back from the prison, I’d ask them if they talked about me, but the answer was always no. After a while, it had gotten to the point where I purposefully started leaving myself out of the loop. At least in that case, it was by my own volition that I was being excluded, not by a predicament being forced on me.

Not by Spencer.

“We’re not doing this right now,” Spencer declaration brought me back to the present, where I found him removing himself from both the conversation and the vehicle. When I heard the latch click to open, my hand reflexively flew to my auto-lock to prevent him from leaving. Naturally, he still managed to escape using his door’s button.

If I couldn’t stop him, then I could follow him.

“Then when will we do this? Huh, Spencer? When? Because anytime I try to talk to you, you run away.” The mere fact that I was speed-walking after him was proof. While he casually strolled down the sidewalk paying me no mind, I tried to be clever and walk down the street so we’d be somewhat side to side. I was tired of staring at his back every time he walked away. I needed to see his face.

For his every stride, I had to take at least three steps. He was gliding through the world so effortlessly as I was trekking my uphill battle. It was quite fitting, though. Further exemplification that, between us, I was fighting harder to preserve the people we used to be, the relationship we used to have. Meanwhile, he couldn’t care less. A stone cold, inconvincible slab of steel. Just like he always was.

As I began to speak, I had to also be conscious of the parked cars along the curb, being careful to weave in and out.

“For months, you have blatantly ignored me. The entire time you were in prison, you denied my visits. And it’s not like it was a one time thing. I tried to visit you over 100 times while you were in jail! 100 times I got rejected. 100 times I got turned away. 100 times my heart shattered.”

By now, I was speaking so loudly that I could see household lights within neighboring homes turning on. I hadn’t even realized how far we’d walked down the street and away from our car, but it was the last thing on my mind.

“Then after you were released, it’s like I never even existed. I had to find out that you were out of there a week later than everyone else because they all assumed you came to me yourself to tell me the good news,” I laughed wryly at my own stupidity. “Do you know how hard it was for me?”

“Do you know how hard it was for me?”

It took me a second to register that he was actually engaging with me in this conversation now. But when I looked at his expression, I could see that something within him had snapped. A little piece of me was glad, though. Now I knew for sure that there was some effect I had on him.

“Hard for you?”

“I know you came to visit me 100 times! Want to know how I know? Because I was there, too! I was there every time a guard came to ask if I wanted to see you. I was there every time I turned you away. And while you got to walk out of those doors every time I did, I was stuck in there, rotting in that cell, thinking about how badly I wanted to see you. How badly I wanted to touch ...” His voice faltered. “To touch you. But I had to protect you!”

“You do realize in protecting me, you were hurting me in the process.”

“Because you just don’t know when to leave well enough alone!” His hands tugged at the root of his unruly hair like evidence of the frustration that my stubbornness caused. “You’re such a pain in the ass because you can never cooperate! It’s gotta be your way or no one else’s! ‘Spencer, it has to be this way because I said so. Spencer, you have to let me see you because I said so. Spencer, you have to talk to me because I said so. Spencer, you have to ride this stupid roller coaster because I said so,’” His imitation of my nagging voice would’ve made me laugh before. Now, it was bringing me onto the verge of tears. “Since clearly no one’s told you this before - not everything is about you! You just want it to be because you’re a whiny, little brat! You’re so spoiled rotten that you can’t even see how far down it goes. If you did, you’d know that you’re rotten to the core and that nothing will ever satisfy you. Especially me.”

His words had done more than sear me. They pierced me. They ripped me. They destroyed me. When he called me Brat, I thought it was endearing. Now, looking back, I realize - no, that’s just how little he thought of me.

As I came to the conclusion, I stopped dead in my tracks on the pavement.

I was done chasing Spencer.

His face had fallen from its anger, indicating he was apologetic, but I was beyond accepting his sorry excuses anymore. I couldn’t stand to look at him so I looked behind me to find our car at least a football field away. I guess in many ways, I’d gone the whole nine yards.

“This is what you wanted right?” I turned back to him momentarily. My voice scared me how calm it was because, inside, I was boiling with rage. “Well, here you go, Spence. Have all the fucking space you want.”

It was usually me watching his back while he walked away, and now, he was watching mine.

“(Y/n), wait!”

And for the briefest second, it actually felt good to be the first one to leave.

I was free.

_ _ _

To my dismay and relief, when I walked into work the next morning, he wasn’t there. I would’ve looked for him with more than a cursory glance except I was stuck on looking at something strange in the bullpen that I couldn’t quite put my finger on. But as I walked further in, a blaring siren went off in my head.

Spencer’s desk is completely empty.

I instantly sorted through my purse for my phone to reach Prentiss when I noticed something more.

I had been desperate to cling onto any notion that he still loved me, and there it was, just sitting on his desk. Proof that the man I loved was still in there somewhere.

The top three pictures from the carnival photo booth.

I laughed, as I always did, thinking about how much we had to exert ourselves to be positioned in a semi-adequate way. In the next wave, I felt profoundly empty. He had kept the pictures all these years, and now that I finally get to see them, he’s left me.

As I brought my hand to my face to clear the tears pooling at my lower lashes, I saw that my finger had an ink smear on the pad of it. There was nowhere else I could’ve obtained it except for if there was writing on the back of the photos.

What I read when I turned it over was as follows.

I want to be this guy for you again, (y/n). I just don’t know how.

I just don’t know if I can.

No matter how much I’ve changed, one thing’s still the same.

I love you.

I should’ve focused on the message, but all that I could focus on was that if I managed to smear the ink, that meant it was fresh, written just now.

He was still here.

I pocketed the photos and abandoned my purse, only carrying with me the phone that I forgot to use to dial Prentiss. After a moment’s indecision, I figured that taking the stairs would be faster than the elevator, and I bounded down the steps without hesitation.

“Spencer!” I yelled into the parking structure when I reached the ground floor. The sound of me bursting through the door caught the attention of Anderson, who was getting out of his car.

“I just saw him leave.” Anderson threw his thumb over his shoulder in the direction of the exit. I knew, even in my state of mind, there was no feasible reality where I could reach him on foot. I had to call him.

I pleaded to myself for him to pick up with every ring of my phone.

“(Y/n),” He said like a statement instead of a question. Again, he’d anticipated I’d do this. He probably picked it up not even having to look at the caller ID but knowing it was me and no one else.

“I don’t need you to be the guy you were before, Spencer. I just need you to bend a little bit. I know we’re both stubborn people, but if we can just find a halfway point-”

“(Y/n), (y/n),” He was settling me and the sentences that were coming out of my mouth at 100 mph.

“I’ll bend if you bend.” I promised.

The static of the call filled my ears until his voice finally did.

“For everyone else, I bend ... for you, I break.”

✧･ﾟ: *✧･ﾟ:*

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bokettochild · 3 years

Text

All Trussed Up and Nowhere to Go

Whumptober Day 1!

Apologies if this isn't as whumpy as my other stuff. When I set out to write whump specifically it never quite comes out...

Anyways, have Twilight and Hyrule suffering together!

There were many places Twilight would rather be at the moment. Many places that a wolf belonged, or a hero even; in the forest, with his brothers, curled up in front of the fire at Lon Lon Ranch or in Legend’s house...

To be honest though, we would have taken fighting the crashing waves of Wind’s Hyrule mid-storm over the sharp pain that pierced through his fur and dug into his flesh.

He’s been chasing a stray moblin away from camp. It had been the only one to escape their battle yesterday and it had come back after the others were settled down for bed. It didn’t make sense to wake the whole camp so that they could kill it, not with it being alone, so instead he’d asked Legend, who wasn’t sleeping anyways and was busy staring up at the stars like he did on some nights, to watch the camp. For all the vet knew, he was just taking a leak, or stretching his legs. At any rate, Legend had agreed and pulled himself up onto the rock Twilight had been using as a perch so he could see out beyond the camp better, and once the vet was secure, he’d grabbed his sword and headed off into the forest.

The moblin was smart, of course it was! It was probably infected too! And somehow the trail had disappeared after a while. Not that that meant anything to a wolf.

Twilight had let the dark power wash over him, shifting him easily into his shadow form at he leapt through the woods after the scent of the filthy monster. It wasn’t hard to track the beast after that, and he’d sped through the woods at the monster's tail, snapping and snarling enough to drive his quarry mad with fear as his teeth came within inches of the monster's flying limbs.

He hadn’t even seen the fence.

The ‘blin had sprung the fence with ease, a bit of downed wire that some farmer had left un-repaired for one reason or another, likely unconcerned with it in the wake of the animals having either escaped or having been moved. Twilight wished the owner had bothered though, as sharp barbs had pierced through his paws, tangling around his legs as he whined and writhed away, only serving to further entangle himself.

No amount of snapping and pushing, pulling and struggling had done anything to free his paws, and once he’d gotten his muzzle snagged in the pointed iron, the wolf had eventually fallen still, only soft whines escaping him as the wire continued to dig into him. Moving only hurt more anyways, and he was beginning to doubt, when the others did eventually find him, that his face and wrists wouldn’t be scarred for life from this.

He was good at waiting though, bound or not, and he kept his ears pricked for the sound of boots stomping through the forest after him or the voices of his brothers and mentor calling out his name in concern. But no matter how good a person is at waiting; he had hoped it wouldn’t take so long.

The distance to camp was a long way, that was all, it was fine, the others were probably searching for him the minute Legend realized he’d been away for too long, right? The silence of the forest was his only answer, and Twilight prayed that the moblin had had the good sense to keep running away, rather than trying to sneak back to camp.

Oh Ordonia! What if the moblin had just been a scout? What if the others were under attack from monsters he had dismissed as all being dead? It wasn’t as if the shadow hadn’t brought monster to them through portals the very same day that they had killed them or otherwise destroyed his forces. What if the camp was overrun? What if they were all barely holding on, waiting for his help? Waiting for their tank of a rancher to bust through the undergrowth, or Wolfie, to destroy a monster about to get a good hit in on one of them?

“Twilight?”

The wolf breathed a deep sigh of relief, only to whimper at the wire digging further into his sides and muzzle at the movement. The sound seemed to catch the attention of the speaker, because only moments later there was the almost imperceptible sound of boots padding softly over the ground, and Hyrule’s freckled face swam into vision.

The traveler was breathing hard, brows pinched in worry as he took in their wolf friend. Barbed wires had become tangled around the wolfs paws, trailing up his legs where they’d tanged and trapped the beast. Wolfie’s muzzle was similarly trapped, and crimson blood trailed across nose and paws both into the ground as the wolf’s midnight blue eyes stared sorrowfully up at the traveler.

“Wolfie.” Hyrule choked out, kneeling down and gently running his hands through the long fur. Twilight could only whimper in response, a soft cry for help that he hoped his brother would understand. The young hero frowned, eyes darting to the forest briefly before back down to whimpering wolf beneath his fingers. “I’m supposed to find Twilight but-” The kid shook his head resolutely, eyes flashing golden in the early morning light. “The others will find him. Don’t worry Wolfie, I’ll get you free, alright?”

Had Twilight been able, he would have breathed a soft thank you to the kid. Hyrule was his best option to be honest, the kid knew the most about survival and healing, even barring the training Warriors had received or Wild’s many experiences.

That thanks didn’t last for long however when Hyrule screamed in pain.

Lupine ears flicked forwards, a hesitant sound escaping him as he stared at where Hyrule sat cradling his hand, tears springing in at the corners of his eyes as he stared at the wires bound around his friend.

“Iron, oh shit.” Hyrule huffed a deep breath, shooting him a weak smile before turning his keen eyes onto the wires wrapped around his brother. “Barbed too, oh you poor thing. Both of us poor things, Legend’s gonna have my hide when I get back.” Another wince as the kid glanced up into the woods. “But they’re all looking for Twilight still, I-”

He could very likely smell the hesitance and conflict that made Hyrule pause and bite his lip, if it weren’t for the blood already trailing across his nose and making it hard to smell anything save for the bitter tang of copper.

“I can handle it. It’s just a bit of iron, right? I’ll just drink a potion when we get back. I’ll be fine.” Wait, why would Hyrule need a potion? What happened?

Despite the barbs that dug into him, Twilight shifted to inspect Hyrule better, worry brewing inside him as his gaze traveled over dirt flecked fabric and slightly scratched hands. That would be from the barbs and likely the trees as well, but it wasn’t anything to warrant drinking a potion; probably just a salve and some bandages, the same as Twilight himself would need.

Unfortunately for all involved, probably and definitely are not the same, and as soon as Hyrule turned his attention to the fencing wrapped around his friend, there was another sharp whimper of pain.

Had he been able to see, Twilight would have stared and watched, trying to figure out what bothered the traveler so much. The kid had once been stabbed and walked it off as nothing, (Legend had been utterly furious and Sky had cried) so it couldn’t be from the pain, not when simply touching the wire was, at worst, an annoyance when you got your fingers pricked. He’d know, he’d spent ages out under the sun unrolling and binding the stuff in place with the other farmers of Ordon. It was always the best choice to keep the larger livestock in, although the smaller ones had a tendency to jump over it altogether.

But again, what should be and what is are two different things, and the longer Hyrule worked the more the kid seemed to be in pain. It was only after Hyrule’s fingers had brushed over his own nose, pulling away the barbs and freeing his face, that he’d smelled it.

Something was burning.

And it wasn’t the pleasant smell of burning wood, or the ashy one of fabric disintegrating into flames. It was the smell of meat left over the fire too long, so that it jumped and danced at the flesh of whatever animal it was until it was blackened and raw. And worse yet, it was right under his nose.

Hyrule choked back a sob as he pulled another wire loose from dark fur.

Pain stirred in his chest as he stared up into Hyrule’s face, the kid’s jaw set and brows furrowed, blinking furiously at the tears that welled up in his eyes as wire after wire was cut or pulled free from the canine-shifters flesh.

He’s in pain.

Hyrule’s blackened fingers swiped at his tears briefly, and the whole world stopped.

Black.

Hyrule’s black fingers.

Smoke sizzled off of the traveler’s hands, skin glowing softly with a hiss as Hyrule went back to work, but Twilight’s mind was already rushing, and in instants he was pulling himself away as best as he could, barking furiously and snapping when Hyrule’s hands came closer.

Why had Hyrule never said he was fae? Great Ordonia! The kid was going to destroy his hands if he kept this up! He wasn’t supposed to touch iron! He couldn’t! Why hadn’t he just called for help?

“Wolfie, I’m almost done, stop!” The traveler pleaded, panic flooding his eyes as he grabbed ahold of the wolf’s long fur. “It’s just a couple more wires. I know it hurts, trust me, I’ll get you out, okay?”

Of course, you know it hurts! It’s burning you, you freaking idiot!!!

Gentle hands reached out for him again and Twilight only snarled in response.

Don’t touch me! You’re hurting yourself! Stop! No! You’re not doing this! Not on my watch!

The traveled scowled, drawing back as glimmering golden eyes had locked onto those of the snarling work, the traveler’s voice just a bit too echoey for this part of the forest, his teeth just a bit too sharp in the dawning light, eyes a bit too bright and glinting as they glared the wolf down. “Wolfie, by- I swear if you don’t calm down, I will pin you in place! You have to stop moving or you’ll just make it worse on both of us!”

Of course, reasoning doesn’t work on over-protective heroes, so in minutes Twilight found himself pinned in place while the Traveler used his full weight to hold him down, sitting on top of him while he finished cutting the last wire before pulling it away from Twilight’s paws, letting the wolf limp away from it as he kicked it against its mother post with a hiss.

Wolfie whimpered.

“I’m sorry.” Hyrule sighed, delicately setting a hand between the canine’s ears, but Twilight saw the wince all the same, and he could only bark angrily as he shook it off, glaring up at Hyrule with all the frustration he could muster. The healer only frowned, hurt flashing across his face as he brought his blackened hand up and cradled it at his chest. “You’re welcome, I guess. What’s got you in a dither?”

“Your blasted hands.” The shadows had washed over him in instants and Hyrule stood staring up at the glaring hero as Twilight caught hold of the kid’s wrist, hands gentle and gaze softening to be even gentler as he stared down at the damage done. “Ordonia dang it, Hyrule, I tried to tell you to stop!”

“You’re okay!” Hyrule choked out, maybe in a sob and maybe in a laugh as the kid relaxed slightly. “You’re- oh gosh, we were-”

“Hyrule.” His form had no effect on his voice apparently, because it was more grown than words that met the others’ ears, and Hyrule flinched at the sound. “You can’t- I-” A million thoughts swam in his mind, worry, anger, concern, disapproval, thanks-

In the end, he just pulled the kid into his arms, mindful of both of their injuries as he sighed. “Yer a freakin’ idiot and I don’t want you ta ever do that again, ‘kay?”

Hyrule nodded into his chest.

“Good. Now let’s get back to camp an’ get something on those burns, and next time,” Blue clashed with golden green. “Go get help instead of burning yourself on iron, you stubborn fae, or I promise you- shut it, I know what promises mean to fae- that I’ll sit on you the whole time Legend yells at you for it, ya hear?”

Hyrule nodded shyly, shoulders hunching up as Twilight let himself relax, pulling his little brother to his side with a sigh and a ruffle of brown curls. “Good, now let’s git. We need to treat those burns.”

And have a talk with the old man about making things in camp, and in general, safer for a young half- blood fae.

#linkeduniverse #linked universe #idiot writes whump #whumptober 2021 #lu hyrule #lu twilight #lu wolfie

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jiminrings · 3 years

Note

why do i feel like even if tae is the one who's injured AND caught between stem koo and senior oc's tension, jungkook would STILL be the one who's crying

cold senior!y/n x stem major!koo masterlist :D

there's fINALLY some sort of peace and redemption between them

taehyung has never been indirectly involved in a palpable situation like this

the last time he was involved in anything remotely close to this, it had something to do with his field trip in second grade

whew god that was a rEALLY pressuring experience for him

it was a split vote to whether they should go to a strawberry field or a newly-opened futuristic kid-friendly interactive dinosaur museum SLASH theme park!!!!!!!

then taehyung picked the strawberry farm that was about 70% dirt

tae's put into a situation again and he doesn't know how to act lmao

"y'okay sweetheart? what's your relation to them?" the kind nurse that's obviously the maternal figure of the emergency ward asks him as she assesses him, a bit of a queue before he could get his leg patched up

he is beyond glad that she asked :D

tae's here to get his leg casted and entertain himself for the meantime!!! his fun isn't exactly correlated to that brooding fucking stem nerd's definition of it!!!

taehyung points to you directly, a cheeky grin on his face as you tilt your head in alert from your seat beside him

"she's my girlfriend!"

you chuckle at his playfulness and even the nurse does so with how proud he sounded, about to scribble it down on her clipboard when someone clearly sounds panicked about it

"she's not his girlfriend," jungkook rises from his slouched position on his seat, wide eyes fixated on the nurse as he shakes his head, trying to make her believe him

it isn't true!!!! that's misinformation!!! that's a crime!!!!

tae snaps his fingers, solemnly shaking his head

"right, my bad!! the two of us aren't in a relationship. actually, the three-..."

god oW

jungkook can't help but whack the back of taehyung's head, their boundary from being semi-strangers in your year you see like twice a day now crossing into semi-friends who aren't reserved with each other jUST because of kook's smack

that's a silent understanding, basically

tae smacks jungkook right back, only stopping on bickering when you intentionally clang your watch on the bedframe to spook them, exiting from the curtain so you could talk with the nurse

being caught in the middle of things cOULD really be fun!!! tae should get involved more often

"so tHIS is why you were outside y/n's dorm when i gave yoongi the cookies!!"

"... you know?"

kook freezes at the possibility that for some way he can't think of, taehyung somehow knows what happened between the two of you

was that why he just hAPPENED to drop by cookies when he was talking with yoongi??

yeah uhm not really

"no. i just know that yoongi hung you out to dry," he snorts because as he recalls it, jungkook looked as pale as a ghost

he didn't really plan to arrive at that time either!!! taehyung just wanted to knock on your door and hopefully drop you his treats then he'll be off his way

he didn't exactly expect to walk in on yoongi looking like he's gonna deck jungkook if only he hadn't yelled out his senior's name

see? it's like the universe just wants taehyung to be at the right places at the wrong times in order for them to eventually fall into place

okay he kinda did take a major L for having his ankle busted but that only means that you and jungkook (even if he doesn't know anything) better make up!!!

“is it bad that i wanted yoongi to punch me that time?” jungkook wonders out loud and he almost wishes he hadn’t, getting an immediate reaction of agreement

“i’ll fill in for him!!” tae half-jokes, getting yet another smack to his shoulder and at that rate, they’d be brothers by tomorrow lmao

“anyways,” he sighs as he leans back to his pillow, keeping his foot elevated. technically, this isn’t his business at all, but what could he do?? he’s sort-of-involved now and jungkook looks like he’s gonna cry out of all people, “you just want yoongi to deck you because that’d absolve you of your guilt.”

kook sighs at that, gripping his hair to keep himself from crying

“but i already know i’m guilty. not only with yoongi, but y/n especially!!”

he whistles at that, getting a mental image with your fists balled because he’s hung around enough practices to photograph all of you for the school paper, knowing that you dO pack a lot of power

“so them decking you is the only way you would feel guiltless?”

jungkook shifts at that, murmuring his answer to the question he’s got thrown

“w-well getting my apology accepted by them would be much appreciated.”

taehyung practically spoon-feeds the answer jungkook need to hear, shrugging carelessly as he watches the boy’s turmoil

god what does he dO?? this is his first interaction with you ever since the incident and he doesn’t know how to act

of all places and scenarios, it just hAD to be in the hospital because stoopid taehyung here decided to run to you while in the rain

as if on cue do you return to the curtained area with a nurse, forms between your fingers

“time to get your x-ray done, tae,” you almost sing-song to him in cheer, being relieved that things were picking up faster than you intended it to

you pat him on the head in an attempt at affection, oblivious to the curious glances that jungkook gives you while he assists the nurse in transferring taehyung to the wheelchair

it’s not until the curtain closes again and taehyung’s gone that you move, hand outstretched to give something to jungkook

.... which is just his share of taehyung’s forms that he needed to fill out so you could get on faster

the two of you are sitting beside each other, chairs close but not exactly close, clipboard in hand and taehyung’s phone at the middle edge of the hospital bed so you could copy his information

jungkook kNOWS he should be focusing on writing tae’s blood type right now, but the spur of the moment nudges him on entirely

"i'm sorry. i'm so, so sorry."

he squeaks and he has to breathe out after that

well there it goes :-)

you knew that the day wouldn’t have finished without jungkook’s input, having avoided him long enough that you didn’t know what to feel

were you expecting an apology from him??? uhm not exactly

are you commending him for apologizing??? not at all!! thanking someone for apologizing over what they’ve done to you in the first place is just a new low

“i know i can’t take back what i said now, but i truly didn’t mean it. i-i was just so confused but — b-but i’m not making excuses!! what i did was beyond shitty of me.”

oh hold on a second

that’s the first time you heard jungkook cuss

you wring your hands as you try to absorb his apology as much as possible without feeling awkward

ok you’re not as good for tHIS type of confrontation

it’s not the first time you’ve been wronged but this is perhaps the first time someone owned up to their wrong and apologize for it face-to-face

,,,,,, and not just because yoongi gave them a piece of his mind

yoongi likes fighting battles for you at times, even if you don’t necessarily ask him to

you appreciate it, but you kNOW he did not get jungkook off the hook so easily!!!!

you honestly thought that with his temper, he would’ve punched jungkook even if it was gonna make you mad

“it’s totally up to you if you don’t want to forgive me, b-but i figured i could die trying, y’know? you can reject me a couple hundred times and i’ll retry a couple thousand.”

jungkook adds and it makes the corner of your mouth raise in the tiniest most miniscule way

he knows that not only does he need to apologize with words, he also nEEDS to make it up to you with his actions!!! that’s why he plans on-

you pause your writing on the form, the act of you doing so making him freeze all the same as you try to carry on with speaking as inaudible as possible

"well you know now. i like you, that was my fault," you offer in response to his apology, coughing when you realize your mistake. "i liked you, i mean."

ok he deserved that

jungkook knows you probably figured out the hyeji situation already through yoongi, cutting his explanations down because you don’t even wanna hear her name

was it the truth? do you really not like jungkook anymore?

....

......

.........

you simmer in the own silence you’ve created, only being broken when jungkook shyly murmurs

"can't you like me some more?"

you snort at what seemed to be his playful suggestion, chuckling to yourself

jungkook was only hALF-kidding and he bows his head in embarrassment over your reaction, the pen in his hand feeling extremely light with how his hand’s trembling

you resume your writing wordlessly, not even daring to look at your right because jungkook’s trying to make himself as small as possible too

the words are just dying to fall out from his mouth, an unhinged trap he could no longer regulate when it comes to you

"you're loveable. extremely loveable."

jungkook says out of nowhere and you falter at writing taehyung’s supposed food allergies, a quiet curiosity to your words

"how would you know that?"

there’s no thought process behind it as he speaks surely this time, only taking the slightest bit of courage to look at you from the corner of his eye

"because it's you."

,,,,,

HOW are you supposed to react to that,,,

the curtains peek open and a grinning taehyung on a wheelchair estatically waves his hand

you and jungkook split from each other even if you haven’t been that close enough immediately, thankful for the welcome interruption

tae outstretches his arms for you to hoist him up the bed and you agree instantly, oblivious to the fact that he’s sticking his tongue out to jungkook who’s giving him a mean glare for his playfulness

his x-rays are all finished and he’s just waiting for the doc to come and interpret them (even if it’s beyond obvious that his ankle’s broken!!!!) so he could get on with wrapping his leg with a cast

jungkook takes this as a chance to rise up from his seat, snatching the opportunities he can within the timeframe

"what do you guys want from the cafeteria?"

tae beams at that, grateful because fINALLY someone’s asked him

"ooh!! i want-"

"what would you like, y/n?"

jungkook continues as he effectively interrupts taehyung who’s squinting and looks beyond offended ay the moment

his motive is buying <3 you <3 dinner!! not mr. ankle-breaker over here

you catch on to what he’s trying to do immediately, rolling your eyes with a hint of amusement when you plop back to your chair

“i'll have what taehyung wants.”

huh....

so he has no choice then but to ask,.,.,

jungkook clears his throat, his lips curved to a smile but his eyes looking the furthest thing from friendly

"what would you like,,,, taehyung?"

the boy pretend to be deep in thought just to waste kook’s time even more, even throwing in the humming to sell the idea

he’s been humming for half a minute now

“pasta. i want pasta. like, the most expensive pasta they have,” he nods at the amazement he has for himself, sneaking a look to a narrow-eyed jungkook

“c’mon, kook. think about y/n. she’s getting what i’m getting!!”

jungkook’s eyes instantly become brighter, realization sweeping over his features as he tries to hurry because you might be hungry at this point

“right, of course!! i’ll even get dessert :D”

well wasn’t tHAT easy hee-hee

hey maybe getting your ankle busted does lead to better things!!!

jungkook’s never been more excited to pay for overpriced pasta in cash (!!!) and carry up multiple paper bags of food and drinks on the stairs because the elevator’s taking too long

he’s only slightly confused when he walks to your spot that taehyung wasn’t there, even kinda being relieved actually

tae was whisked away for the second and final time to have his leg wrapped up, leaving you and jungkook alone once again

“that looks expensive.”

you remark the moment you see the fancy paper bags, bringing your wallet out to atleast take out a few bills that you think would cover the cost for this hospital dinner

jungkook incessantly shakes his head no, instead making you sit in place so he could turn the area to be a cozy dinner place as best as he could

"i mean it. i'm gonna make it up to you, i swear."

he speaks sometime in the middle of your silent meal, waiting for the time that it’d feel more sincere and not a little forced

ya know he didn’t want to make it seem that buying overpriced dinners correspond to him making it up to you!!!!

"i know."

you answer truthfully because you might have saw this coming, knowing in the back of your head that you wouldn’t put put it past jungkook to be sincere

you hear a noise of surprise when you reply, jungkook immediately putting his hand inside the pocket of his hoodie to fish out something

“your eyedrops, by the way. i meant to give it back to you earlier.”

your eyes skim on the dainty-looking handmade origami box on jungkook’s palm, a fond look he could atleast distinguish

you take it from him nonetheless, unaware at the multiple layers you have yet to know inside said box

“i can always buy a new one.”

he shakes his head at that, scrunching his nose as he mindlessly pokes at the chicken

he thinks back to what he put inside that might’ve been the reason why he didn’t just buy you a new stock in the first place

“i like giving back.”

giving back as in returing feelings too or whatever maybe!!!!! just maybe

he waves you off when you thank him for giving it back, his next words becoming a little weighted on your mind

"open it up when you feel like it. it's up to you."

that was that then

okay maybe not

you’re almost finished with your dinner and you know that you’re about to come home anyway, getting a text from tae that he’s done being wrapped up and is just waiting for his reminders now

why not say what you want to anyway??

"thank you for the lunchbox yesterday, by the way."

jungkook’s the one who’s caught off-guard this time, choking on his rice briefly before questioning you wITHOUT looking pathetic

"h-how did you know it was me??"

your hand only skims to the right of him, having to slightly lean against him to get what you need

it’s tae's record that jungkook had to fill up

you’ve just realized it a little while ago when jungkook was downstairs buying from the cafeteria, the distinct way of how he writes his A’s and curves his Y’s being embedded into your mind

"because it's you."

#REDEMPTION ARC BABIEEEE FEEDBACK PLS AND THANK U WHAT DO YOU WANNA SEE NEXT UPDATE #stem koo #jungkook imagine #jungkook oneshot #jungkook oneshots #jungkook au #jungkook drabble #jungkook x reader #jungkook x y/n #jungkook fic #jungkook college au #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst

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ventisehe · 3 years

Text

being in a relationship with bennett and razor / genshin impact

i main these boys and they make such a great team, i love them so much. i had a lot of fun writing this hehe. again, all characters are aged up, 21 or older unless stated otherwise. this includes chongyun and xingqiu.

requested by: pastelpeachyposts

includes: bennett, razor

warning: unedited, not proofread

You, Bennett, and Razor were an unusual trio, and many will attest to this statement. You differ in personalities and ambitions, even favoring completely contrasting delicacies, and yet there will never be a more lively and iconic dynamic than the three of you.

You and Bennett were the first one to meet when he rescued you from a group of vicious Electro Slimes. He was successful in his intent, but you had to escort him back to Mondstadt where he can be healed by the Deaconess.

You met Razor the next after you grew comfortable with your friendship with Bennett. The latter excitedly told you about another friend of his who resided in Wolvendom and was quite well acquainted with the wolves. Your first encounter with Razor was rather tense, and understandably so. He was wary of you, watching your every move as you strolled around Wolvendom with a gleeful Bennett who was oblivious to the atmosphere between the two of you. Most of his experience with humans are less than ideal but as Bennett unknowingly forced the two of you to spend time together, his walls slowly broke and he accepted you as one of his Lupicals.

As time passed and the three of you grow closer and closer together, a revelation descended upon you, and a startling one at that. You acquired feelings for both boys. It wasn't difficult for you to understand why you grew to like both of them. They were so easy to fall in love with. Bennett is an adventurous and motivated boy who, although had a streak of bad luck in him, has a positive spirit and is very generous and caring towards everyone. Razor is a strong yet gentle soul who is protective over those dear to him, and will always go out of his way to show his affection with his uncommon but innocent gifts.

Unbeknownst to you, the two share the same feelings for you. Bennett knew he liked you when you refused to leave after he saved you, even after he insisted this was a normal occurrence for him. Razor took a while to understand what was that hammering in his chest after you took the responsibility of caring for the wolf pups his Lupicals gave birth to.

It was an awkward situation for the three of you when Bennett and Razor decided to confess to you at the same. When the two of them professed their love for you and offered their gifts with bowed heads and tightly closed eyes, they slowly turned to look at each other with puzzlement, heads tilted and eyebrows furrowed. You, however, stood in front if them with redness coating your face and a thundering heartbeat.

"You like ( Your Name ) too, Razor?" Questioned Bennett, gaping at him.

Razor nodded once. "Like her, very."

Normally, when two people discover that the a close friend of theirs holds the same affection to their person of interest, a quarrel will ensue, and estrangement will follow. But Bennett and Razor were very unlike such an example and instead of compromising their close friendship, the two came to an agreement that whoever you should choose - if you indeed have feelings for one of them - they will remain friends and accept your decision.

Imagine the surprise on their faces when you leaned forward and gave each one of them a small peck on their nose, admitting shyly that you have feelings for both of them.

It took some time for the three of you to get used to your relationship. After all, none of you have ever been in a relationship before, not to mention there was the three of you in it. You carefully treaded through uncertainties and tribulations of inexperience, and it took a while but the you, Bennett, and Razor got the hang of how to make your relationship work.

Bennett is always the one dragging you and Razor to adventures. He will come knocking at your door with a wide grin, Razor lingering behind him and giving you a small smile and a shy wave.

"We're going to Windrise today! I heard some adventurers saying they spotted a weird looking Hilichurl with a briefcase! Wanna join us?" Asked Bennett excitedly, eyes shimmering.

Razor glanced at the other boy before returning his gaze at you with firmness. "I will protect you both. No worry."

You can't ever say no to them, especially when both of them look so happy and thrilled.

Razor is the protector of the relationship. With the dangerous enviroment he grew up in and the training he took under the supervision of a human, it was to be expected. He was always on the prowl, prepared to draw out his claymore and defend you and Bennett from any enemies with an evil intent.

You and Bennett are never worried of being attacked out of nowhere with Razor around you.

Razor takes his responsibility as your protector seriously. The rare times he and Bennett come over at your place, he will never allow himself to fall asleep and would sit by the window where he can oversee your residence. You and Bennett would have to drag him to your bed and convince him that you were in a safe enviroment to make him ease down and actually take a rest.

You three share the same bed, and it's always you in the middle. Bennett will cling on to your slumbering form and would snore from time to time, but when you stroke his hair or when Razor softly nudge his head against his, Bennett will quiet down for a while and continue snoring again after. Razor was quite a sight to see when sleeping. Being raised and cared for by wolves, it was to be expected he would mimic their position in sleeping. He would curl up beside you or Bennett, always nuzzling his face against the crook of your necks. You and Bennett will never say it but he looks so adorable when sleeping like that.

You and Razor know of Bennett's unluckiness. Unfortunately, because you're in a relationship, you two are more involved in his bad luck. Bennett is always guilty of putting the both of you in difficult situations and will apologize profusely, even when the two of you insist that it wasn't his fault.

"It kind of sucks that I'm also giving bad luck to the two of you. I mean, you're one of the few good things that ever happened in my life." He admitted in a gentle whisper, a pout forming on his visage as tears begin to appear at tbe corners of his eyes.

You and Razor felt like an arrow shot through your hearts at what he said and you spend your time cheering up Bennett. Although his unluckiness always seemed to hinder your attempts, Bennett appreciated and loved your efforts, which is enough to bring back his big smile.

When the rare times come when one of you are busy and cannot find time for the other two, the latter pair will frequently visit the missing member, often with gifts.

Bennett loves giving you kisses. Not just on the lips, but all over your face. When your relationship was still at the early stages, Bennett would lean forward towards your face and pull back after an awkward amount of time of hesitation. But when you told him that he is allowed to give you kisses and you would love to receive them, Bennett will take all the chances to shower you with kisses. He loves giving kisses more than receiving because he has so much love to give, but when you do the same to him, his cheeks will be painted in a rich scarlet color and his tongue will be tied, unable to anything except stammering.

"A-Ah, ( Your Name ), please, stop - " Stuttered Bennett as he covered his blushing face with his gloved hands, embarrassment palpable in his posture.

You let out a giggle as you took his hands and tried to pry them off. "Aww, don't be like that, Benny. Let me see your cute face. And I know you love my kisses."

Bennett splutteted.

Razor prefers to give you hugs over kisses. His hugs are big, warm, and welcoming. You'll always feel safe when you're in his arms. When you're in his embrace and you're both comfortable, you won't be leaving his arms for a while. Sometimes Bennett will wiggle himself into the embrace and the three of you just cuddle.

"You're so warm, Razor." You whispered as you nestled yourself on his chest.

Razor showed you a small smile. "I make you feel safe?"

You let out a laugh. "And loved."

More often than not, Bennett and Razor will convene and think of something to surprise you. These boys are filled with love for you that even if there's no occassion, they'll come together to buy you a gift they thought of together.

Bennett gives you trinkets from his solo adventures, but even if most of the time they're broken or burnt, you heartily accept them. Razor always gives you items that are found in the wild such as sweet flowers, mushrooms, pinecones, windwheel asters, sometimes wolfhooks, and if he was lucky, an abundant amount of fowls. You mentioned once how you needed ingredients to make food while you're out adventuring alone, or some things for this thing you call ascension. You love their gifts and always make good use of them or take good care of them.

Bennett had long introduced Razor to his dads (a group of adventurers who saved Bennett long ago). When he introduced you to them, you were immediately flocked and you regaled with tales of their adventures back when they were young, and Bennett was just a wee baby then. You stayed with them for hours, just listening. All the while, Bennett just enjoyed watching you get along with his family so well. Since the adventurers were old, you visit them often and help Bennett take care of them.

Some would think meeting Razor's family would be difficult. They are wolves, after all, and they were known for being vicious. But they couldn't be more wrong Anyone Razor trusted, the wolves trusted so they immeditely accepted you in their pack and treated you the way they treated Razor. They surround you whenever they sense danger, ready to pounce on whatever enemy emerges. The wolves would stay close by and let you snuggle into their fur when the weather is cold. Razor really likes it when you play with the wolf pups and help in hunting dinner for his family.

Bennett and Razor talk about you with their families. Bennett's dads approved of you the very second they saw a glimmer in his eyes when he mentions you, and even though the wolves cannot understand Razor's human speech, they can sense the love in his voice and the frequent drop of your name makes them understand it was directed to you.

" - she and Razor helped me fight an Abyss Mage earlier!" Bennett exclaimed, beaming. "If it weren't for them, I would've probably returned back here with more injuries, hehe."

"( Your Name ) made Bennett and me flower bracelets." Razor then proceeded to lift his arms to show the wolf pups the bracelet he mentioned. "Now, Razor need to take care of it, so me not moving around much."

The three of you always walk hand in hand together, you in the middle. You will swing your linked hands together and Bennett will follow your lead. You and Bennett will have to encourage Razor do the same and have to explain the process of it. Razor will be a little confused at first but then begin enjoy the hand swinging once he get used to it.

Dates are frequent, and it'll always be with the three of you. You all promised never to have a date with someone missing. There will be times where the boys will want a private date with you, but most of the time, it's always you three.

Bennett's dates are adventurous - of course - and unique. He'll find some place you haven't seen before or find an activity you three can try. You'll experience a lot of things in his dates, this includes being attacked out of nowhere and having to save Bennett from time to time. Nonetheless, his dates are always fun and will your heart palpitating.

Razor's dates are simple and peaceful. He'll find a nice and safe place with a beautiful view and the three of you have a picnic there. He's always the one preparing the food for you to eat, but you and Bennett will always bring desserts for Razor to try. Razor insisted that he wanted to learn more human dishes and he can find motivation in doing so by having you and Bennett eat them. His cookings at first were not up to standards - or consumption - but the more dates he arrange, the better he becomes. You mentioned once you liked his hash brown shaped as a puppy paw print and strived to perfect it. If you're lucky, he'll even bring a wolf pup or two.

In your dates, you always make sure you cater to your partners interests. You will do something Bennett likes to do, and then what Razor likes, and then something the three of you can bond over. With that, your dates are always chaotic (not as chaotic as Bennett's dates though) but extremely fun.

Bennett and Razor are suckers for your compliments. They always love getting them from you. Although the two have different ways of accepting them.

Bennett cannot easily accept compliments. It was rare for him to receive one with his bad luck and whenever he does get one, he malfunctions. What more if it comes from you?

Bennett will shake his head vigorously as redness painted his cheeks, waving his arms as though denying your compliment.

"( Your Name ), y-you can't mean that! I-I'm not that great!"

"But Benny," You cooed, as you leaned closer to him, smiling. "You're one of the best person I've ever met! You're kind, sweet and - "

As you continue praising him, Bennett will slowly, slowly accept your compliments, and you might not know, but your compliments are building his confidence in himself. Bennett is a happy and positive boy but his bad luck caused him so much troubles and backlash that his self esteem plummeted. Continue supporting and praising this boy, you're making him super happy.

"I guess I do have some good qualities . . . thanks ( Your Name ). You're really cool, too. And very pretty." Bennett admits as he rubbed the back of his head.

Razor's compliments to Bennett are simple and straightforward, and somehow Bennett accepts them easier than yours. Probably because it's simple and straightforward.

Unlike Bennett, Razor accepts your compliments with a smile and always returns your compliments with one of his own. He doesn't know why some people are embarrassed being complimented. It was a nice thing to do, after all.

"You're really strong, Razor!" You exclaimed after watching the Cryo Abyss Mage he was battlinng evaporate in thin air.

Razor faced you, a smile gracing his briks as he wiped a sweat from his brow. "Thank you. You strong too."

"I can fight Hilichurls, but I'll need some backup if it's Abyss Mages." You laughed. "But thanks, Razor!"

Razor and Bennett insisted that they help you train. You have seen how they fought and trained, and you were a bit reluctant because of its harshness, but after contemplating over its benefits like being able to defend yourself, helping more in adventures, and being able to finally properly protect Bennett and Razor, you accepted.

Bennett is very eager to teach you what he knows and has brought you and Razor to a nearby Hilichurl camp to showcase his abilities and give you pointers after. You and Razor end up carrying him back to the Mondstadt with his arms over your shoulders, the Hilichurl camp up in flames behind you two.

"Did I . . . defeat them?" Questioned Bennett. He couldn't lift his head from the exhaustion and pain.

"Yes, you definitely did." You answered.

Razor's training was a bit more proper but you haven't learned much because his training required claymore, and you were far from being a claymore user. Razor demonstrsted how to pick up a claymore but you couldn't even lift it off the ground.

You pouted as your hands lets go of the handle of the claymore. "I couldn't do it."

Razor approached you and patted your head. "Good effort. Maybe claymore not for you."

Bennett and Razor now always goes to you when they need patching up. Now, they could go and visit Barbara like they used to but they preferred that you tend to their wounds for two reasons. One, they love you and love spending time with you. Two, they get kisses on each wound you cover.

Bennett has a habit of running towards you and Razor at full speed and tackling you both down to the ground, hugging the two of you. You and Razor don't mind it and actually enjoy this sort of thing.

Razor named wolf pups after you and Bennett. This causes confusion when you visit him at Wolvendom.

"Bennett, sit." Ordered Razor.

Bennett and wolf pup Bennett both sat down at the same time.

"( Your Name ), stop playing with food." Razor reprimanded sternly.

You looked down at your plate of neatly cut steak strips while wolf pup ( Your Name ) who sat by your feet poking at the meat it was eating whimpered.

When a fight ensues between you three, it won't take long before you relent and make amends. You three have soft hearts and can never stay angry at each other for too long. You apologize and promise to be better and more understanding.

But if a fight arises between only a pair, the one who isn't part of the fight courts the other two to make up already. If you and Bennett have an argument, Razor will push Bennett to talk things out with you. If you and Razor are the ones in the argument, Bennett will panic and will have a hard time choosing who to approach first. You and Razor make up after the two of you try to comfort Bennett at the same time. If Bennett and Razor were the ones in an argument, you can easily talk to them individually and the two will approach the other and apologize.

Bennett and Razor never compete to be your favorite. They know you love both of them equally, and they love you just as much. You have never felt unloved when you're with them. You three are content and happy.

The most wholesome relationship ever.

"And you two got ambushed by a Geovishap - wait a minute - " Your eyelids curtained your retinas as your digits delicately massaged your temples, trying to ease the pressure in your head as Razor and Bennett averted their guilty gazes from you. Their skis were marred in cuts and bruises, their hair disheveled, and clothes torn from what you suspect were large and sharp claws from a humongous creature. " - how did you two even encounter . . . what was it again - a Geovishap? I know there isn't one in Mondstadt."

Bennett reached out to rub a his hand of his over his neck as he tried to dismiss the mystery at hand with a chuckle. "Uh, well, we kinda . . . " He trailed off, clearly not fond of the idea of continuing his sentence.

Your eye fluttered open and you lifted a brow at Bennett. "You what?"

Bennett opened his mouth to answer but right when you thought he was about to speak, he nudged Razor with his elbow and whispered, "You tell her."

Razor turned to you and looked at you with reluctant eyes, shoulders slackening. "Me and Bennett," He began, " - went to Liyue."

You let out a deep at their answer, your hands slipping from your hips. "I knew it. I heard the two of you talking about doing a commission there. I just didn't think you'd go through with it, and without mentioning it to me." You stated. "Do you know how worried I was when the two of you didn't visit me earlier? I had to learn from Katheryne you took on a commission."

Bennett and Razor casted their gazes away, guilt crowning their expression.

You heaved out a sigh. "At least you two are back safely. And alive."

You approached the two boys who have yet to return their sights on you and assessed their forms, scrutinizing each of them carefully. "You poor things. Those look painful." You murmured. "Need me to patch you up?"

Bennett's and Razor's eyes shimmered at your offer, and the two nodded eagerly in response. Any traces of shame vanquished for they know your disappointment has evaporated and they were forgiven. "Yes, please." The two answered in unison.

You permitted a small laugh to escape your lips. "Alright, alright," You tittered. "Follow me, then."

Before you can even move, Bennett interjected. "W-Will we still get kisses . . . " The white haired adventurer turned completely red as he realized how silly his words were. " . . . you know what I mean . . . "

Razor looked down, a shy expression encompassing his features, to which surprised you. "Razor wants kisses too . . . from ( Your Name )."

Your heart jumped in your chest at the sight of their hopeful and coy expressions. Even if you wanted to tease them a little for this as payback, your heart couldn't. You shook your head at them and clasped their cheeks, one hand on the other as you stared into their eyes.

"You two . . . " You whispered, breathing out. " . . . you make it so hard to be angry with you."

Their only response was a grin.

#genshin impact x reader #genshin x reader #razor x reader #bennett x reader

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goodlucktai · 3 years

Text

out past the shallow breakers

the untamed pairing: jiang cheng & wei ying, jiang cheng & lan sizhui word count: 3148 read on ao3

“He died!”

The words ring loud, sharp—in the pavilion where they’re taking their evening meal, surrounded on all sides by untroubled water, the words seem to carry for miles.

It’s unlike Lan Sizhui to raise his voice at all, much less to raise it toward a senior. His hands, resting politely on his knees under the table, have curled into fists.

“Everyone goes on and on as though baba has so much to atone for,” Lan Sizhui says, each word lurching from his throat like a line of fierce corpses shambling through brush. “What more is there for him to give? What more do you want? He died.”

Jin Ling is staring at his friend as though he’s never seen him fully before. On Lan Sizhui’s other side, Wei Wuxian’s expression is shifting rapidly from alarm to comprehension. His gray eyes are full of a painful understanding.

“Sizhui ah,” Wei Wuxian says, touching the boy’s shoulder. “Come take a walk with me.”

Jerking his head in a nod, Lan Sizhui pushes to his feet and then pauses there. His Gusu Lan whites, those extra lines and layers that denote him a member of the main family, ghost elegantly around him when he lowers himself in a bow that is every inch deep that it needs to be and not one inch deeper.

“Sect Leader Jiang, this disciple apologizes,” he says. The cheerful ‘shushu’ of earlier that morning might as well be a memory of another life. “My behavior was unworthy.”

He doesn’t grit it out, the way Jin Ling would probably have had to. It doesn’t even seem to cost him any pride.

For one, single, impossible moment, it’s as though Jiang Yanli is standing there, making her apologies to their mother for her brothers’ sake, to spare them any pain she could. It didn’t matter that the blame wasn’t hers. It didn’t cost her any pride, either.

But Jiang Yanli didn’t have a chance to be a part of her nephew’s life, as much as she would have wanted to be. This likeness isn’t hers, not truly. Wei Wuxian was always more like his sister than he or Jiang Cheng were ready to admit.

“Forget it,” Jiang Cheng says. His voice is hoarse, but in the stillness of the water and the silence of the pavilion, it carries, too. “Go on.”

Wei Wuxian shepherds his son from the table. He glances back at Jiang Cheng once, a grimace of apology on his face, but then Lan Sizhui’s hand finds the trailing black hem of Wei Wuxian’s sleeve and clutches to it, and that steals all of Wei Wuxian’s attention as easily as a slap or a shout might have.

The moment they’re gone, Jin Ling lets out a breath he must have been holding, and rounds on his other uncle with wide eyes.

“What did you say?” Jin Ling blurts. “I wasn’t really paying attention, but it didn’t sound like—I mean, it sounded normal.”

Jiang Cheng is still staring at the place Lan Sizhui had stood.

The last living remnant of a persecuted clan, so much an amalgamation of his two fathers that it didn’t make sense that one of them had been dead for most of his young life—holding a grudge and bowing his head at the same time. Lan Wangji, in Jiang Cheng’s experience, has never once let something go that he could nurse icy resentment for instead. Wei Wuxian has always choked down hurt like it was second nature, no matter that it must feel like swallowing nails every time.

It was a normal conversation, but perhaps that’s exactly why Lan Sizhui couldn’t bear another second of it.

“He died,” Lan Sizhui had said, as raw as a fresh wound, or one that kept getting torn open again before it could heal. “What more do you want?”

“Ah, Jiang Cheng,” Wei Wuxian says the next morning, meeting him in the courtyard. “Did you sleep well?”

He’s smiling with a certain nervous energy that Jiang Cheng can only pick out because he spent the formative years of his life raising and being raised by his siblings. To an outsider, there probably wouldn’t be a single visible chink in that cheerful armor.

Jiang Cheng, for all his failings, isn’t an outsider. Not quite. The door between them is closed—has been closed for years, almost decades—but Wei Wuxian isn’t the one who closed it. There almost certainly isn’t a lock or talisman keeping Jiang Cheng from forcing it open again.

It won’t come open again easily. There is so much stacked in the way. Hurt and betrayal and grief throw their weight into keeping it shut, weighing it down on either side.

But—

“What more do you want?” Lan Sizhui had asked.

“Fine,” Jiang Cheng forces out. Wei Wuxian blinks, as if he didn’t expect a forthright answer, or any answer at all. Something about his open surprise at the barest scrap of civility makes Jiang Cheng add, “If you’re awake this early, you didn’t sleep at all.”

His brother takes the opening for what it is, and bends into character. “Oh! You know me so well!”

Mo Xuanyu’s body is smaller, slighter, than the body that Wei Wuxian was born into, and his face is not quite the same, but Wei Wuxian’s mannerisms shine through so clearly that it’s easy to look past everything else. Even the way he stands still is entirely his own, his whole body vibrating with the necessary focus it takes to keep from bursting into movement again.

He is so familiar. The most familiar thing in Jiang Cheng’s entire, almost-empty life.

“I’m sorry about last night,” Wei Wuxian says. The words spill from his mouth like river pebbles, scattering around their feet. There’s that echo of their jiejie again, smiling around I’m sorry. “Don’t hold it against him, please. He’s so young, and he’s struggling to make sense of some things. He was happy that you invited him to Lotus Pier.”

The past-tense makes Jiang Cheng want to flinch, but he doesn’t. He just stands there in the peach pink morning and absorbs the beginning of a goodbye.

“So you’re leaving, then?” he mutters.

“I think we’ve definitely worn out our welcome this time,” Wei Wuxian says, easily shouldering the blame for everyone else’s bad behavior. They might as well be twelve years old again, kneeling here in the courtyard under Madam Yu’s furious eyes. “But it’s alright! Wen Ning sent word that he’s waiting for us outside of Yunmeng and Sizhui is eager to see him. We’ll go find some trouble to get into before we head back home.”

He won’t say a word about this change of plans to his husband, but Lan Wangji will still find out—whether Lan Sizhui tells him, or Wen Ning, or he just picks up something from Wei Wuxian through osmosis—and the next cultivator conference will be excruciating. And if the Jiang clan gets anything out of it, it won’t be anything good. And Jiang Cheng will feel slighted and angry for months, until the next time Wei Wuxian swings by for a visit. And having his brother nearby will soothe an ache in the pit of Jiang Cheng’s chest that he’s able to ignore all the rest of the time. And then, inevitably, Wei Wuxian will look wistfully at the water, or linger for too long by the flowers their sister liked best, or bring some other manner of ghost to the dinner table, and Jiang Cheng will lash out because it’s the only way he knows how to handle hurt. And then Wei Wuxian will extract himself and go home to Cloud Recesses early, and Lan Wangji will rightly guess why. And it just never fucking ends, does it?

The grief he carries around with him—he’s not wrong to carry it. It’s his. He was hurt, time and again, by a person he used to count on not to hurt him. He’s two times an orphan; once when his parents died, and again when his siblings did. He had to rebuild his home from the ground up, by himself, with his own two hands. Everything he has is what he was able to dig out of the dirt and ashes.

It isn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault that Lotus Pier fell. It isn’t his fault that the Wens were persecuted, that they had nowhere else to turn for protection. And it isn’t—

This one hurts; this one comes away bleeding. Jiang Cheng forces himself through it anyway.

It isn’t Wei Wuxian’s fault that Yanli died.

She died for him, but he didn’t ask her to.

Jiang Cheng feels his brother’s golden core thrumming inside his chest, hyper-aware of it now in a way he rarely was before—how it feels the way the sun looks in the morning, warm and brilliant and spilling color across the dull gray of dawn.

He didn’t ask Wei Wuxian to cut himself open for Jiang Cheng’s sake. He can’t be blamed for his brother’s choices. And if that’s true (and it has to be true or Jiang Cheng will go insane) then Wei Wuxian can’t be blamed for their sister’s choice, either. Yanli died for Wei Wuxian because she loved him, and Wei Wuxian gave Jiang Cheng his golden core because he loved him, and Jiang Cheng never moved on and never let go because he loved them, too.

They weren’t raised to love softly or quietly. Love between the three of them was always fierce, like a wild animal baring its teeth. Clinging to each other in a world that wanted to rip them apart. Even Yanli, who smiled and spoke with such sweetness, went to war because her brothers were there.

“What more do you want?” Lan Sizhui had asked.

Jiang Cheng lifts his head. Wei Wuxian is already looking at him, poised, as ever, to leave the moment Jiang Cheng gives him any indication that he should, like a bird ready to fling itself into flight. His brother, dead for thirteen years and back again, and only sometimes-welcome in the place he used to call home. Only sometimes-wanted by the person who used to be his family.

In a world full of people missing people they’ll never see again, Wei Wuxian is a miracle that Jiang Cheng is entirely unworthy of.

He’s right to carry his grief, because it’s his. But he wouldn’t be wrong—it wouldn’t be a betrayal—if he chose to set it down.

“You find trouble as easy as breathing,” he says, speaking through his heart, where it’s lodged in his throat, “so that shouldn’t be too hard.”

“Maligned!” Wei Wuxian cries with an air of great sorrow. “Blatantly maligned, by my own flesh and blood!”

Jiang Cheng can’t say what he wants to say. He can’t find the words. There’s only so much of himself he can dig up and expose like raw nerves before the pain of it becomes overwhelming, and he reacts to the hurt the way he always does, and shoves Wei Wuxian away.

“Don’t forget to say goodbye to Jin Ling, or he’ll never forgive you,” Jiang Cheng settles for. “And I’ll be the one stuck hearing about it.”

“I would never forget my favorite nephew,” Wei Wuxian says easily.

“And if you fuck up, and get yourself into a stupid mess,” Jiang Cheng adds, before he loses his nerve, “don’t let me hear about it from someone else.”

For a moment, Wei Wuxian doesn’t seem to know what to say.

“What if it’s very stupid?” he finally asks, his voice at once both faint and painfully fond.

“What else is new?” Jiang Cheng snaps. “Just send for me, and I’ll come.”

Above them, the pink and orange of fresh dawn make way for vivid blue. As Jiang Cheng stands in his childhood home with his only brother, while the market comes to life outside the walls and the breeze sweeps the smell of lotus flowers and scallion pancakes through the courtyard, the years seem to fall away. For a brief, uninterrupted moment, they’re both back where they belong.

“Aiyah, shidi,” Wei Wuxian says. “Of course you will.”

The next time Jiang Cheng sees Lan Sizhui is at the cultivation conference in Gusu, two months later.

The boy smiles politely but greets him as ‘Sect Leader Jiang’ again, and next to him, Jiang Cheng can feel Jin Ling wince. Lan Sizhui’s counterpart, the wildly opinionated and deeply un-Lan-like Lan Jingyi is giving him a frank, up-and-down appraisal.

“I mean, I’ll give it to you,” he says baldly. “You’re brave. Like, if Hanguang-jun hated me as much as he hated you, I just wouldn’t show up. You couldn’t pay me to show up.”

“Jingyi,” Lan Sizhui says at length.

“No, I know. I’m just saying. Young Mistress,” he adds, sweeping into a deep, performative bow in front of Jin Ling, “if you’ll come with me, your presence is earnestly awaited by Young Master Ouyang in the library pavilion.”

“Shut up, Jingyi, I swear,” Jin Ling snaps, but he lets himself be herded away with only a single worried glance back at his uncle.

Lan Sizhui is gazing up at Jiang Cheng with a complicated expression. Even though the explosive anger of that disastrous dinner doesn’t seem likely to make a reappearance, there is still something troubled in his eyes.

“I wanted to apologize, shushu,” the boy says slowly. “Properly, that is. For the way I spoke to you last time.”

Ah. So the stiffness isn’t born of lingering irritation, but worry. These Lans, Jiang Cheng thinks, with significantly less venom than he’s used to thinking of the Lan sect with.

He has a well of patience for his nephews that has never run dry. Jin Ling has stretched it nearly to the limit, more than once, but it will take Lan Sizhui more than one emotional outburst to come even close. Given that they’ve only been family (for given value of the word) for a short while, it makes sense that Lan Sizhui wouldn’t know that.

“It wasn’t you that I was angry with, not really,” Lan Sizhui says, explaining when Jiang Cheng has already largely guessed. “I know that you care about baba in your own way, even if a-die doesn’t think so. But—there are—”

His young face folds in frustration, less remarkably than Jin Ling’s does when he’s having a snit, but just a creased forehead speaks volumes in this repressed sect.

“There are other people. Who say similar things. And they don’t mean it the way you mean it.”

Jiang Cheng knows that. He attended those meetings, too.

“And let me guess,” he says, “my idiot brother doesn’t want you speaking up for him.”

Lan Sizhui’s mouth twists. “He says that he did horrible things, and those people are well within their rights to feel about him however they want to feel about him. But—he did good, too. He protected my clan, even though he had to do it alone. I don’t remember very much,” he goes on, slightly quieter, “but I know that he made the Burial Mounds a warm and safe place for me. I know that I never felt scared or cold or hungry when I was there with him. And I don’t think most people could have done that.”

Jiang Cheng boxes up the involuntary pain that swells into place at the poking of this half-healed wound, and gives himself a moment to organize a reply. Talking to the mind-healer his chief physician recommended to him has helped a lot, not that he’ll give that smug witch the satisfaction of admitting it.

“Wei Wuxian hurt a lot of people, but so did everyone else,” he says when he’s certain he can say it without losing his composure. “We were at war. None of us are blameless. He was just the most convenient scapegoat. He still is.”

Lan Sizhui’s eyes are bright with vindication. He was born a Wen and raised a Lan, but there’s a streak of Jiang in there, too, Jiang Cheng thinks with pride. It’s that love that Jiang Cheng recognizes, the same kind of love that he and jiejie and Wei Wuxian had cultivated between them since they were children—the vicious, untamed kind of love that marches to war and claws its way up from hell and clings too hard to things it rightly should let go of.

“It isn’t fair,” Lan Sizhui says.

“No,” Jiang Cheng allows. “It isn’t.”

Wei Wuxian waves animatedly at Jiang Cheng from across the room, even though it makes Lan Qiren scowl at him. It’s reminiscent of every single stuffy banquet they had to sit through as kids, making faces at one another when Madam Yu’s eyes were turned away.

Jiang Cheng rolls his eyes in return, and Wei Wuxian lights up like he’s been handed a pile of gold. Lan Wangji gazes at him with a tenderness that would be absolutely absurd if Wei Wuxian didn’t actually deserve every scant inch of it that got sent his way, and even though the entire cultivation world is waiting, he spares a moment to tuck a stray piece of hair behind Wei Wuxian’s ear.

Sect Leader Yao scoffs, a bit too loudly. “Shameless upstart.”

Lan Wangji’s eyes turn so sharp so fast that it promises violence.

Before he can say anything that starts another war, Jiang Cheng turns fully around in his seat.

“Problem?” he asks shortly.

Baffled, Sect Leader Yao’s gaze skates around the room for a moment before landing back on Jiang Cheng.

“If you have something to say about my brother,” Jiang Cheng says, his voice a snarl, zidian sparking on his arm, “say it so that I can hear you.”

“Ah, this meeting is off to such a lively start,” Wei Wuxian says into the ominous stillness of the room. “Shidi, you’re so energetic, why don’t you kick things off?”

It would be the first time in his career that he’s the first to speak at a conference. Openly disbelieving, Jiang Cheng looks from his brother to Lan Wangji. Lan Wangji’s eyes are narrowed, but not as though he’s sizing Jiang Cheng up for a coffin, which is how he usually sizes him up. All he does is tip his head incrementally, conceding the floor to him.

Gods. It’s that simple.

“You are really not a difficult person, are you?” Jiang Cheng says aloud.

“No,” Lan Wangji agrees, this force of nature who turned the world upside down and challenged every single person in it, who would do so again and again and again, just to be able to sit there and hold Wei Wuxian’s hand.

And then, in the closest the two of them have ever come to an understanding, Lan Wangji adds, “Neither are you.”

#mo dao zu shi #the untamed #yunmeng shuangjie #jiang cheng #wei ying #lan sizhui #mdzs #wangxian #my writing #mdzs fic

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